#but the DRAMA OF IT ALL - the ANGST THE REPRESSION

[thesokovianaccords]

#steggyweek23 - day three - aus and crossovers

"i'm not the queen, you know. you're allowed to touch me."

or...a steggy bodyguard au

[hollowdeath]

Oh hello, I just wanted to tell you that what you wrote is amazing! I read it over and over and couldn't stop reading. You are soooo amazing! *((Ugly crying😭❤️))*

And umm.. I would like to share about the imagination in my head about Dark Harry Potter. He joins the Lord Voldemort and betrayed all his friends. When the war ended, the Lord's side Voldemort wins. Everything is in chaos but Harry ignores it all because he only cares about the reader, his old girlfriend. (Harry still loves the reader even though the reader hates Harry.) He might have requested that the Lord Voldemort gave the reader as a reward to him after the war. Something like that, and ummm, a drama that is both bitter and sad and angry at the same time full of longing for each other? A rough and sad lovemaking? 🥺

hi! thank you so much for requesting! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: dark!harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: harry's all-consuming anger successfully tempts him to join voldemort in the war, sending you, his girlfriend, away in an attempt to keep you safe. years later he asks for your return, and is met with bitterness and rage as you struggle to navigate your feelings for each other in a post-war world.

c/w: smut!!! angst!! slow burn! mentions/threats of weapons, violence, abuse, and death/murder. smut is all the way at the end (grinding, oral, penetration, submissive!harry & dominant!reader) lightly edited, not book/movie/canon accurate

word count: 12.6k

a/n: this is giving me manacled x star wars and i love it lol, so so so much fun to write. i tried to make the reader more angst-y and dominant than normal, so if you like this please let me know! sorry if the plot doesn't make much sense. i also started school this week so please be patient with me! going to try and start posting shorter blurbs/headcanons between requests <3

harry was standing at a window in the lord's manor, watching the street below him as people sulked aimlessly by. it was a typical, gloomy day, the clouds gathering heavily above. it had been raining for weeks, maybe even months at this point, and it was beginning to cast a permanent gray shadow across the city. not even the weather could escape the tragedies of the war.

though harry chose to not dwell on the war, he felt its lingering effects. even from his lofty spot in the comfort of the lord's castle, which he barely left anymore. its walls had become harry's second skin. so long as he had everything delivered to him whenever he desired, it was disgusting to him to even think of stepping outside.

yet still, harry could see the abandoned and damaged shops just outside the lord's gates lining the courtyard along the cobblestone streets. the burnt remains of what once was. the sunken-in faces of the remaining people in the city. the lack of light, the lack of life, the lack of magic.

there's a part of harry, a weak cry from deep inside his repressed past, that feels bad. he was once a young wizard with bright eyes walking the streets of these same shops. he once enjoyed the sounds of shared happiness, and found solace in the fact that despite his lack of, there would always be joy in the world around him.

however, as harry grew older, and the circumstances around him shifted, he found himself getting angrier more often. not just on a weekly basis over small interactions or mistakes, but all the time, from the moment he was awoken by his nightmares to the moment he fell back into them. harry simply had no room inside of him left for anything else. it was just anger. pure, unbridled anger that only caused annoyance at first, then small outbursts of irritation after a while, and, eventually, he couldn't look at anyone or anything without wanting to physically destroy it for no reason other than he was just angry.

harry was angry at the world for having magic in it in the first place. he hated the divide it caused between muggles and non-muggles, pure bloods and half bloods. he was angry that divide is what took his parents from him before he could even properly know them. he was angry he had to grow up in abuse and neglect under the guise of 'safety'. he was angry he never received an apology, an admittance of guilt, not even a hint of closure for the past that was still controlling his present.

the boy who used to risk his life to save hogwarts and the students inside of it would eventually be the same one to let them fall.

when voldemort came back, and harry's anger was at its worst, he knew there was a connection. he didn't know about horcruxes yet and he certainly didn't know he was one. and yet he knew, somewhere deep inside him again, that it wasn't a coincidence. there was a reason his anger was consuming him, and the reason was voldemort.

after cedric's death, harry had begun to spiral. the nightmares were worse than before, he felt deathly paranoid constantly, and couldn't escape the intruding memories of the graveyard. though harry had managed well enough afterwards, still suppressing his rage, he couldn't hide the change in his personality from those closest to him. ron and hermione were the first to bring it up, but, of course, harry had snapped and told them to mind the business that pays them. despite his resistance, they tried until the very end to help their best friend see through his anger, to remember what was right and wrong.

however, once sirius was dead, it was all over.

harry had simply lost any hope that was left within him. watching sirius fall through the veil, his eyes lifeless and cold, was like watching harry himself die. he didn't think he could get any lower, and then he watched the only family he had left be cursed just within his reach.

harry was never the same after that. when he sat in bed late at night staring at the marauders map in his lap, he thought about how much he hated this life that's been made for him. the boy who lived, the scape goat, the hero, our only hope. it was crushing. harry was just a boy. he wanted to live a normal life.

but he knew he never could. not after tom riddle, not after cedric, not after sirius. even if everything went away tomorrow and harry could just attend his classes and be with his friends, nothing would change. he would still be alone, he would still be angry, and he would still suffer from his traumas. what was the point in fighting for good or living to see the end when you would always end up alone?

except, harry wasn't alone, really. he had you.

if there was one thing in this lifetime, one thing throughout this entire war that could have saved harry, it was you.

you and harry had been classmates for a year or so before really getting to know each other, and started dating not long after. when you were around, harry knew there was something worth fighting for. though he may feel angry and everything and everyone and everything everyone said, harry could never truly be mad with you. it's like when you looked at him the anger was muted, numb, deep inside him, and as soon as someone would interrupt it was bubbling at the surface again.

you were worried about harry, of course, and saw the effects his anger had on his relationships with everyone else around him. besides you.

he remembers you clearly, still to this day, and just how upset you were anytime he lashed out. if he'd felt anything other than anger at that time, it would've been guilt. guilt for hurting you, for scaring you. guilt, but not guilty enough to stop.

the anger was stronger.

even when you asked him, begged him, please, harry, please stop letting your anger win, and even when he promised, swore on his own grave, that he would try harder to stop for you, he never did.

harry was beyond angry. he was spiteful. all he had ever been was kind, a pushover who gave everyone the respect he was never graced with. he's saved strangers who wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire. he's lost his family in their sacrifice for the greater good that now rested upon harry's 16 year old shoulders.

he was beginning to think the fight wasn't worth it.

not only did the fight for good no longer seem worthy to harry, the fight against it only seemed to become more enticing. why should harry continue to risk his life and sanity when there would always be fights of blood purity? why should he be the hero everyone else has always wanted him to be?

for a long time, the answer was you. you were reason enough for harry to keep fighting, to keep his anger under control. when he looked at you things made sense for just a moment, his suffering was worth it to see you alive and well. until it wasn't.

everyone has a breaking point, and harry felt like he had finally reached his. as the war had geared up to a point of no return, harry had to make a decision. he had always assumed his decision was already made for him since birth, but he soon realized he never actually had to follow this path set for him in the first place. he was free to do as he pleased. he wasn't dumbledore, he wasn't his parents, he wasn't even the hero everyone thought he was. he was angry. he was spiteful.

worse than that, harry was vengeful.

so, when he met voldemort in the woods during the battle of hogwarts to accept his death, harry instead offered him a proposal the dark lord simply couldn't refuse. harry potter, his living horcrux, would become his successor upon his death. harry would fight with and for voldemort, training to become the most powerful dark wizard in history, and to finally let tom riddle rest well knowing the world was in just as dark, evil hands as his own.

though voldemort was skeptical at first, naturally, as harry expected him to be, he could eventually see the darkness within harry nearly consuming him whole. he was as serious as death itself. he no longer had the desire within him to continue fighting for, what he saw as, a lost cause. voldemort was rather pleased with this news, though never expected harry to come around like he did. he hadn't even considered it, really. but who was he to deny his own successor?

upon harry's return to hogwarts with voldemort and his death eaters in tow, every single person who watched was stunned into silence. even mcgonagall, who had been instructing and encouraging the students all night in their fight, had become speechless and teary eyed at the sight. ron had to catch hermione, who nearly fell to the floor.

but nobody was as upset as you were.

you had already been sobbing watching harry walk off into the woods towards his own death thinking you would never see him alive again. only to watch him emerge from the same treeline with the enemy by his side. it's like you got kicked in the gut. you would've almost rather never seen harry again.

"harry!" you had screamed in a broken voice as he crossed the bridge, voldemort's snake slithering at his feet. you were running to him, breaking through the multiple arms that tried to hold you back.

voldemort tried to raise his wand to you, but harry had stopped him, telling him to let him handle it. he was suspicious at first, still not fully trusting harry's intentions just yet, but was reassured by the sinister look in his eyes.

harry looked at you. he remembers feeling a twinge of that same guilt from before, the tiniest spark of hope deep within his rage. he really did love you, at least at some point he did. you would've made all of this worth it, you would've been the reason to keep going. but not even you were reason enough anymore. for so long he had been ready to take his revenge on the world that failed him.

"harry, what are you doing?" you had asked him, voice shaking. you were almost whispering, your eyes nervously glancing towards voldemort every other second in fear for your safety. harry grabbed your hands but you pulled them back, a look of disgust coming across your face.

"come with me." harry had told you. your look of disgusted transformed into shock, anger, confusion, and guilt. there were mumblings coming from the crowd of students behind you. "what?" you had asked, nearly breathless at this point, your eyes searching him for answers.

"come with me, [y/n]. i want you by my side as i become the most powerful dark lord in the world." harry explained, taking steps towards you with an excited grin on his face, his eyes still dark with corruption. you were still in shock when he grabbed for your hands. he kissed your knuckles softly with a quiet, "i love you,"

he had meant it, but not like he used to.

it took a few moments of silence and some tense eye contact before you pulled your hands away, letting the tears fall again as you attempted to gather your words. "you can't do this, harry. i will never join the dark lord. you know this isn't right, why are you doing this? why? why?" you're practically begging for an answer as harry looked away, an irritated expression on his face, clenching his jaw together. your hands reached for his shirt and jacket, trying to shake some sense into him as you grasped them tightly and pulled him closer.

"don't you love me?" you had asked him in the most heartbreaking, soul crushing voice. your words were weak, but your sentiment was palpable. you were bloody, dirty, covered in scars from fighting, holding harry close to you as you begged him with wide eyes. not too much earlier in the year he would've folded immediately looking at you, so innocent and desperate, his last bit of hope in the world.

but it was already far too late.

"take her to azkaban," harry had announced, angling his head back to the deatheaters behind him, keeping his eyes locked with yours. your grip on his clothes loosened and shocked gasps came from the crowd. harry looked at voldemort, who was a bit puzzled by the situation, but backed up harry's real nonetheless. "you heard the boy," he snapped towards the men behind him.

the deatheaters walked towards you as you stepped away from harry. "no, no, no, stop!" you were screaming, trying to back away from them, but they had grabbed your arms aggressively and began dragging you towards the bridge. "[y/n]!" a few students had shouted, running towards you before their attempts were blocked by a wave of voldemort's wand. the students fell to the ground, watching helplessly as you continued to fight your way out of the deatheaters' grasps. harry stood still, emotionless, completely stoic as he heard your desperate wails and calls for his name disappear into the woods behind him.

the rest of that night or day or whatever it was has since been completely blocked out of harry's mind, forever. his rage had reached a level he didn't know was possible. all he could recall anymore is the blood, the screaming, the running, and the light of his wand in his hand. many students and professors died during that battle at his hand, along with voldemort's and the deatheaters'. the castle was then burned to the ground, signifying the end of the battle. hogwarts had never stood a chance.

and, now, harry stands in the dark lord's manor, staring at the abandoned buildings lining his street, and he's thinking of you.

he often wondered how life would have been if you had joined him that day. though his years since have been packed with death, fights, destruction, and chaos, there were moments alone or in peril where you crossed his mind like a gentle breeze. a simpler part of his past, a light in his darkness. your soft, kind eyes, wide with shock as you back away from him, fixated on the deatheaters coming to collect you. your sweet, melodic voice screaming and breaking as you were dragged away, fighting for your freedom. harry could remember the moment perfectly despite everything else in his life being a blur.

he wonders how you would have filled the role as his partner in crime after choosing him. two dark lords unstoppable against the forces of the wizarding world, fighting 'good' and spreading evil just as he had been this whole time. would you have succumbed easily to the temptation? would you be as dark as harry was? could you maybe even be darker?

but harry knew it was a fruitless endeavor from the beginning. he had wanted to ask you anyways, to at least give you a chance to make the decision to be with him, even if he already knew what your response would be. harry was a bit let down at first, hoping maybe there was enough love between you to push morals aside, but he knew he would never be that lucky. part of why he fell in love with you way before his anger began was your commitment and dedication to what you believed was right. that same trait would be the driving force behind his decision to lock you away.

harry knew you. and he knew you wouldn't stop fighting until your body gave out, and maybe even after that. he may have lost you by sending you to azkaban for the foreseeable future of the war, but he'd rather know you were safe somewhere solitary than spend his years wondering where your dead body had been rotting into the dirt all this time. though azkaban was desolate, dark, isolated, and torturous, it allowed harry to sleep at night thinking of your still-beating heart resting safely behind those impenetrable walls.

lately his nights had become more restless, though, as the thought of you still residing in azkaban began to sit with him. he didn't feel guilt, really, he knew it was what was ultimately best for you. but he did miss you.

after the war had died down and voldemort took his place as the rightful dark lord of the world, harry's anger began to subside for the first time in years. rather than rage fueling his insatiable desire to destroy, he felt incredibly numb and disengaged with everything around him. the desolate streets and grim sky and abandoned city outside the windows began to fit his mental state more and more. for the first time since he was a teenager, harry could see past the anger.

and all he wanted was you.

so, harry had reached out to the dark lord, who spent most of his time at his new ministry castle across the country from the old manor he let harry watch over. they communicated every so often, checking in on business and social matters, but otherwise never had to meet in person. 

harry sent him a letter asking for your release and direct delivery to his household, barring from reason. he felt after the war he had lead with and for voldemort, he owed harry a singular favor all these years later.

it only took 2 days for a confirmation letter to be sent back to harry, signed by voldemort himself, dating your arrival for the next day.

harry had his house elf, jinx, make up your room, asking her to be sure it was comfortable and clean before your delivery tomorrow afternoon, and to also provide plenty of options for dinner.

harry spent all night thinking about you, wondering what you'd look like after all this time. how similar or different you would be from what he remembers. how you'd react to seeing him. he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't react well, likely needing an extended period of alone time to adjust being here before he'd ever get a civil moment with you. but he was up for the challenge, otherwise he'd never ask for your return in the first place. he was releasing his anger, and instead building his patience, if not just to hold you one more time.

there was a delicious smell filling the mansion as the clock drew nearer to your arrival. harry was dressed better than he had been in years, and had jinx make the usually desolate looking building feel warm and inviting. fireplaces roaring, warm lamps flooding the hallways, and the grand dining table set to perfection for 2 particular guests.

harry didn't want to make it too obvious, but it was hard for him to hide how excited he was to see you again. even if you were different, even if you hated him, all he wanted was to see you in person, his eyes locking with yours for the first time since the day you were dragged away at his command.

once the hour was upon him, harry could hear footsteps and voices on the second floor. his heart leaped, setting down his glass of wine before heading for the stairs.

"let go of me, let go of me," a strained voice was crying down the hall, the sounds of a struggle coming from harry's left. he saw two house elves, rather squat and bulky, holding onto the arms of a frail body covered in a simple striped prison dress.

one elf turned to harry and gave him a devilish grin, "ah, there's the man himself!" he growled, his partner turning as well. "sorry we were late, mr. potter, someone here wasn't too keen on leaving azkaban, for some reason," he apologizes, pulling at the arm he's holding.

you slowly turn your head and stop struggling, your eyes wide with fear and mouth dropped open. "harry?" you whispered to yourself, your knees nearly giving out beneath you before the elves aggressively pulled you back up.

the first elf groans, rolling his eyes at you. "where can we put her, huh?" he asks, his tone impatient. harry pulls a few gold coins out of his pocket and hands them over to both of the elves. "right here is just fine. thank you, boys," he tells them.

the elves happily accept the tips and drop you to the ground, quickly disappearing in a flash.

you're left heavily breathing on the floor of the hall, sniffling and groaning in pain before diverting your attention to harry. your eyes were still wide, your eyebrows creased in confusion as you tried to move yourself further away from him on your hands and knees.

harry gave you your space, but watched intently as you nervously increased the distance between both of you. your hair was long, tangled, greasy, and falling around you like a curtain. you were smaller than he remembered, your eyes sunken in and cheeks more hollowed than before. you were pale, and visibly dirty. the soles of your feet were nearly black.

harry felt a pain in his stomach, his blood pressure rising imagining how you lived inside the walls of the prison. he couldn't identify the feeling. it was different from anger, but it wasn't far off.

as you continued to back up, your eyes shifted to a widow on your right. you slowly gained the energy to lift yourself and reach for the window, throwing it open before attempting to stick your hand out.

your hand hit the open window like you had never moved the glass barrier. you continued trying to stick your hand and head out, hitting at the invisible barrier with all your strength, making frustrated sounds.

"there's a spell on the house, love. you can't leave, just for now, until we can work things out," harry tried to explain gently as you continued trying to escape. he took a step towards you and you stepped away, leaning on the wall for support as you began to cry harder.

"get away from me, get away, what the fuck, what the fuck is happening," you tried to shout at him, your faced turned away and other arm putting distance between you and harry. you were gasping for air, your voice stressed and broken, shaking your head as you tried to continue backing up into the wall.

harry still attempted to give you your space. he hated to see you like this. you were so defensive and scared of everything going on around you. he wanted to give you time to calm down, but felt you needed to know what was going on.

"[y/n]," harry said, causing your head to snap towards him with curious eyes. your arm lowered slightly, your knees still weak beneath you. "listen to me, okay? just for a second," harry tried to ask kindly. he hadn't realized just how long it had been since he talked to someone this gently.

you continued to stand defensively, your eyes scanning harry up and down nervously as your breathing slowly started to still.

harry sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before turning his attention to you again. "i know this is a lot, and i know it's confusing," he starts, his voice unexpectedly shaky. "but i asked voldemort, and i had you released from azkaban. i figured you may like a warm place to stay, so i had you brought here,"

you still looked confused for a moment before you narrowed your eyes, your arm coming up once again to defend yourself. "what are you talking about? where are we?" you asked harry suspiciously, still scanning him from head to toe.

"my manor. well, the lord's manor, but, essentially mine," harry says a bit awkwardly. you gave him a look of disgust, leaning further into the wall for support. "why would i want to be here? with you?" you practically spat at him with hatred in your eyes. harry was unaffected.

"i know you don't. but there's nowhere else to go. i promise." harry tells you solemnly. your eyes widen a bit again, a flash of fear coming across your face, but the anger quickly returns.

"i'd rather live in rubble than prop my feet up in the dark lord's manor," you say sharply, taking a step towards him in attempt to intimidate him. though you weren't much shorter than harry, you were weak, and tired, and he wasn't necessarily afraid of your threats.

he took a step back anyways, giving you more space. "look," he says, his eyes turning to the floor before he can steady his breathing and reply. "it's just for now. if you really don't want to stay, i won't make you." he says softly before returning his eyes to yours. they're not as bright as he remembers them in his dreams about you.

"but," he says, causing your jaw to clench. "you will stay until you're well again. and it's not up for debate." harry tells you firmly, his tone not as gentle as before.

you swallow harshly, your stomach growling audibly as the smell of the food downstairs begins to settle into your senses.

harry notices this and smirks to himself before quickly returning to a neutral state. "now," he announces, straightening out his blazer. "until the food is ready, there's a room made up for you just down this hall and to your left. it has a bathroom, and clothes. take all the time you need." he says before promptly turning on his heels and heading downstairs, his heart still racing from his encounter with you.

sitting in the living room watching the fireplace in front of him, harry eventually hears the door of your new bedroom click open and swiftly close. not long after he can hear the plumbing rumble as you take your first shower. he smiles at the fact that you're finally in his life once more, even if the circumstances were completely unusual.

harry's nearly concerned and wanting to send jinx to check on you after 2 hours of running water before it stops, the sound of the bathroom fan taking its place. harry's relieved.

"jinx, could tell our guest the foods ready," harry tells the elf as she brings the last tray from the kitchen to the dining room. she nods to herself, shuffling up the stairs sluggishly.

harry's pouring another glass of wine in the kitchen and decides to pour you one as well. on his way into the dining room, he sees you standing in the entryway. you're dressed in a large jumper, oversized pajamas bottoms, and your hair is still rather wet plopped into a bun on top of your head. your skin is rubbed raw, your cheeks still flushed pink as you analyze the table full of food in front of you.

harry smiles at your shocked gaze, your stomach growling again as he tries to hand you your glass of wine. you turn your nose at him, taking a step back. he smiles curtly and heads to his seat, setting your glass with his.

"figured you might be hungry," harry says as he sits down, his plate made for him already. he looks at you, arms still crossed, nose turned away, but eyes peeking at the endless food at your disposal. he can tell you're trying to keep your guard up, but your stomach hasn't stopped rumbling since you came downstairs.

he gestures to your chair just across from him, a plate made for you as well. you look at him, your eyes curious but expression still tight. you carefully take a step closer to the table, but you're still weary.

harry gives you a sympathetic smile. "after tonight you can have any meal you want in your solitude. i just thought i'd be nice and host my guest for the first night," he tells you, catching your gaze.

your curious look quickly turns to one of anger. "i'm not your guest. i'm practically a prisoner again." you hiss, your eyes boring into his with contempt. harry can sense the rage building inside of you. he's familiar with the feeling.

though you were different in so many ways, your dull eyes and lifeless voice, you were also similar in your determined attitude. you had always been the type to stand up and take charge, which harry completely admired and was impressed by. he found your beauty to be most potent in your strong will and cunning mind.

he admired you for just a moment, looking down at him with enough hatred to send shivers over his body. you looked so young, your skin supple and smooth under the light of the candles and fireplace, your hair falling loosely to frame your furrowed brow. you were just as pretty as he remembered, even if your expression always contained a hint of sadness and fear around him.

harry simply smiles softly, sitting back in his chair. "i prefer guest," he says teasingly. you suddenly snap at him, grabbing for his steak knife and pushing your arm to his neck against the back of the chair, holding the point of the knife to the side of his neck.

if looks could kill, the knife would've been unnecessary. your eyes were nearly black as you shakily push against harry's throat. "let me out of here now or i swear, harry," your voice cracks saying his name. "i swear i'll fucking kill you," you spit, leaning further into your grasp him on, your jaw clenched tightly.

harry, to your surprise, just chuckles to himself, not even struggling to breathe as he looks up at you deviously. your eyes widen just before you feel your arms start to move for you, as well as your legs. your neck is strained as well, an invisible force pushing you away from harry as the knife drops from your hand.

you're suddenly released from the mysterious grasp, and you choke out a breath, looking back at harry. he's smirking, but trying not to let you see as his pointed hand lowers from you. he fixes his shirt and chair, gesturing again to your seat across from him. "as thrilling as that was, love, not yet. i'd like you to stay here for at least a month before i consider placing you elsewhere." harry states, picking his knife back up to place on the table.

you stare at harry incredulously. "a month?" you ask, your face turning red again. you take another step towards him but you falter in fear of him using the same force as before to stop you. you stumble as your mind races to gather your thoughts. "how…you…i'm not staying here for a month! this is insanity! how could you send me away like that and just bring me back like it was nothing? a shower and a plate of food and suddenly those 5 years in azkaban never happened?"

you're now shouting at harry with a broken voice, your emotions on high as the tears threaten to fall again. harry watches you, just watches, and simply gestures to your chair again. "just join me," he insists.

you go to yell again, but harry sternly interrupts. "we can discuss this another time. please. sit down." he commands from you.

your mask drops for a moment, a look of fear crossing your face before diverting your eyes away completely to your chair. your stomach growls again, your hand covering it to hide the sound.

it takes a few moments until you slowly make your way to sit down, glancing at harry before taking your seat. harry begins eating silently, and, not long after, you're digging into your first real plate of food in years.

harry can't help but smile to himself subtly watching you indulge yourself for a moment, the mask slipping again as you gratefully shovel spoonfuls of food into your mouth with a sigh of relief. he was glad you were eating, even if he had to put up a bit of a fight to convince you.

as harry finishes up, you're still making your way through your second plate. he stands, grabbing your attention and making you curl back into your seat. "jinx," he calls out before sipping the last of his wine. jinx comes to the table and grabs harry's glass and plate, turning to take them to the kitchen. 

"[y/n], this is jinx," harry motions to the elf, who gives you a warm smile. you return the smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "if you ever need anything, anything at all, don't be afraid to ask her. she lives to serve," harry tells you proudly, earning a slight look of disgust from you before returning a smile at jinx.

"this was a lovely dinner, ms. jinx, thank you so much, truly," you thank her honestly. she bows to you slightly before continuing her way through the doors to the kitchen.

you shoot harry a glare. "the harry i knew would've never kept a house elf," you say, your words dripping with disdain. harry ignores your statement, turning to the stairs before ascending them.

he leaves you alone at the dining table, closing himself off in the master bedroom for the night. just as he's finishing up brushing his teeth, he hears your door click shut. that night he fell asleep feeling more reassured than he had in years knowing the pretty girl he couldn't keep his mind off of was asleep just down the hall from him.

it had been a few weeks since harry moved you in, and he rarely ended up seeing you in the mansion. you were often locked away in your room, or taking showers, and harry only ever saw you when you were finishing up a meal with jinx.

you had become quite close with her, it seems, which harry found sweet. he was worried at first that you may be using jinx as a way to find an escape from the house, but after a while without incident, harry realized how silly the idea was. you truly could connect with anyone.

one of the only other times he saw you, though, was when he passed by the open library one night. harry had been restless, thinking about his past in depth, feeling emotions he couldn't place, and decided to watch the sunrise to clear his head. he took a quick glance through the doors before spotting you curled up on one of the couches, a book in hand, fast asleep beside a warm lamp.

harry stopped, taking a moment to admire you from afar. you had gained some weight back being here, which harry loved to see. your cheeks were full and rounded, your hands not as frail, and the color was coming back to your skin. your hair looked impossibly soft under the light, sprawled everywhere around your angelic, sleeping face. harry couldn't help the cheesy smile that overcame his face. he was just happy that you were okay.

outside of that, harry spent most of his time alone, thinking about you. you hadn't reached out to him yet, which he expected, but was surprised when a month came and went and you still didn't confront him. he hadn't made his decision just yet, so he didn't have an answer for you even if you had asked him. he saw you were doing better, but still wasn't confident in letting you go. not just for selfish reasons, of course, but he wanted to be sure you were equipped enough to live on your own.

but, harry had to admit, his heart raced when he heard your soft footsteps pass his door to the stairs. his mind went blank seeing your figure standing in the dining room with jinx, chatting over a plate of snacks together. his blood ran cold when he heard your soft giggle from somewhere in the mansion. like a beautiful ghost haunting his past.

harry knew even before he sent his letter to voldemort that his feelings for you had never truly gone away. deep under his rage, his unforgiving heart, his cold blooded nature, his love for you had always remained. but he was learning to accept your departure if you chose to do so. a final goodbye to the most beautiful part of his unsightly life. harry wasn't sure he could handle the idea.

he was struggling with his thoughts, the constant back and forth he was feeling about you. at first harry was sleeping better with you there knowing you were safe, but now he stayed up late worrying himself sick over the decisions he had to make now that you were actually there.

sitting in bed, staring at the rising sun through his window, harry's mind was exhausting him. he hadn't slept all night and could feel the effects setting in. slowly, he stood from the bed and slipped on his house shoes along with his robe. he quietly leaves his room to not disturb you so early just down the hall.

he walks to the opposite end of the hall towards the balcony, and takes his usual seat facing the sunrise.

harry contemplates here most mornings, but never comes to any radical conclusions. he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what's best for you anymore. he knows he selfishly wants you all to himself still, but also knows you deserve to live the life you want no matter what his opinion is. it's the same conversation with himself every time, and it leaves him confused and upset for keeping you here like he is. even if his heart is in the right place.

his thoughts are interrupted by jinx, who offers harry a cup of tea. he thanks her, but quickly calls her back to ask a question. "jinx, um…[y/n], how is she doing?" he asks.

jinx, a quiet house elf, gives harry a smile, and pats his shoulder. her smile is warm and reassuring, as well as her hand. as she walks off, harry smiles to himself a bit. he's not completely satisfied with the answer, but he takes what he can get.

finishing his cup of tea with the sun shining over the horizon, harry turns to head inside before being met with the sight of you standing at the open doorway of the balcony. 

you're dressed in a simple long sleeve pajama shirt along with comfortable pants, your arms crossed as the morning chill sets into the air. harry's a bit startled at first, but gives you a polite smile, diverting his eyes and walking around you to leave you be.

"harry," you said softly, turning to him.

harry's heart dropped, but turned to you promptly with eager eyes. the way you said his name, your soft voice, he was already so captivated by you.

"can we talk?"

now harry was worried. this is what he's been afraid of since you got here. he's not ready to answer you. he doesn't know what he's going to say when you desperately ask him to leave and never come back.

"of course," he says calmly, gesturing to the balcony so you could sit together.

once you've joined him in watching the sun, you two fall into a somewhat comfortable silence as the soft wind whistles past.

"i never thanked you," you said quietly after a while, almost a whisper in the wind. harry looked at you, looking at the sunrise. your face was radiant. you were brilliant in the light of the sun, your hair still impossibly soft and beautiful, falling around you, following the flow of the air. harry was overwhelmed with the beauty your presence held in this moment. "you never had to."

you glanced at harry, studying his expression, before turning back to the sun. "it's also been a month." you state coldly. harry's gaze drops, sighing. "57 days, technically," he mumbles.

a few moments of silence pass again, leaving harry an anxious mess in his seat. he tried to think of a gentle way to let you know he still needed time to decide what to do. a way to tell you without putting his life at risk to your anger.

"well, as much as i hate to say this, you were right," you say, still watching the sunrise in deep thought. harry was shocked by your words, immediately sitting up in his seat to get a better look at your face.

you were stoic, your eyes fixated on the scene out beyond your reach. "what?" harry asked, not believing his own ears. a small smile crept to your lips, the first one he's managed to see himself since you've been here. his heart aches at just the hint of seeing it again.

"don't make me say it again, potter," you try to say threateningly with that small smile, your eyes falling to your lap.

harry is stunned into silence, watching you with careful eyes. "but, you were right. i needed time to be healthy again." you said to him, your back still turned. harry stayed quiet, allowing you to continue. "i was angry with you. i still am. i don't think it'll ever stop," you inform him, the coldness returning to your voice. "but," he was preparing himself for the rejection, the questions, the begging.

"i'd like to stay, if you'll have me," you offer in a slightly embarrassed tone, your face turned the other way.

to say harry was shocked at your request is an understatement. he was expecting you to have a plan to take him out if he had rejected your request to leave yet. he never considered the idea that you might actually want to stay with him.

"i'll have you forever, if you let me," harry responds, a small smile on his face as well. you shoot him a warning look. "not forever. just until i feel well again." you tell him, your voice cold once more. you turn back to the sun, now completely over the horizon. "figured you owe me that much," you say in an accusatory voice.

harry just smirks to himself. you could never be soft for long when he was around. but he appreciated that you felt you could ask him to stay, though you never had to in the first place. harry really would have had you forever, if you'd let him.

"stay as long as you need to." he says.

you glance back at him again, your eyes softer this time. you're analyzing him for a moment before turning to him a bit. "it took me a long time to understand why you sent me to azkaban," you tell him, your voice steady and emotionless. harry just watches you, admiring the light surrounding you.

"you would've never stood a chance in destroying the world had i been free," you state, your eyes still examining him. harry offers you another small smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes the same way. "you knew you were weak," you say.

harry's now analyzing your expression, your words swimming around in his mind. "i did," he admitted to you. "it was just easier if i knew where you were all this time," he says breathlessly.

your eyes narrow at him once more, the anger returning to your body language. "easier for you. i would've never done the same if the roles were reversed." you snapped at him harshly. harry believed you. he thought about it a lot in his nightly battles with his own mind.

"you're right," harry stated, still admiring you in your anger. you were upset, but gave harry a questioning look. your eyes softened only a bit. "i think about it all the time," he admits to you gently.

you're a bit puzzled by his admittance of guilt, but don't let it stop you. "i hope it haunts you at night the way it haunts me," you say sharply, your eyes dark.

"always has," harry says to himself, only making you more angry. "you poor thing. must've been so tough relaxing in this mansion knowing i was rotting away in solitary confinement." your voice is strong, powerful, a contrast to the broken words you gave harry your first day here.

"it was," harry says simply, sensing your rising impatience with him. you stood from your seat, towering over him as he continued watching you in wonder. "you evil little rat. you're just lucky my magic is restricted by this spell. i would've killed you in your sleep that first night." you threaten him, gesturing to the protection spell around the castle and balcony.

harry wants to stop himself, but can't keep the smirk off his face. this only angers you more, pulling your arm back and slapping harry square across his face.

he doesn't react, instead allowing himself to stay facing away from you. "i hate you," you state weakly, your hands balled at your side. harry looks at you, the smirk still playing on his lips. "i know," he says softly.

you frustratedly sit back down, turning to look back at the sunrise once more.

a long silence settles over you two, listening to the sounds of the city as it awakens around you. eventually, you stand, turning to leave harry alone on the balcony. you pause before you leave.

"i still never thanked you, harry." you speak softly, your back turned to him. he looks over at you, your curves glowing in the morning light. "you never had to," he replies, and you're off down the dark hallway.

for the next few months, you and harry live together amicably. he sees you around more often as you start to leave the confines of your room. of course the library was a place of solace for you, but he started to see you more in the living room, on the balcony, or in the dining room enjoying jinx's company. for a while you two exchanged polite greetings, simple glances and acknowledgements, before asking about each other's days, or commenting on the weather. it was agonizingly slow for harry, but he was breaking through your walls one way or another.

one day not long after you'd slapped him on the balcony, you sat in the living room with harry, across from his seat on the couch. he was surprised by your presence, but gave you a small smile over his book anyway. "jinx tells me you've been acting different," you'd stated bluntly, watching his face for a reaction.

harry put down the book he was reading, giving you his attention. "have i?" he asks. you were always examining him, your eyes critical but curious at the same time. "she says your anger used to be terrible. even worse than i remember." you lead him on.

harry bit his lip thinking about the years where his rage was at its worst. he tried not to dwell on them, and instead tried to focus on the newfound emotions consuming his life. but he couldn't deny the path of destruction he'd left while seeing red.

harry eventually nodded, his eyes distant. "it was," he admits, his voice just as lost in thought. you shifted in your seat. "you let it ruin everything, harry." you said softly, leaving him looking at the floor in disappointment. "i know," he admitted.

the silence between you was palpable. harry felt the weight of it on his shoulders before you spoke again. "i would hear about the things you did while in azkaban. the guard would tell me even after i asked him to stop." you inform him. harry can still feel your eyes shooting daggers at him.

"for so long i fantasized about being the one to kill you, to finally put an end to voldemort." you said wistfully. harry glanced at you, seeing a longing look on your face. "how brave of [y/n] to put her love aside to kill the dark lord's apprentice." you said in a mocking tone, leaning back in your seat.

harry watched you, imagining you in azkaban, dreaming of putting an end to his life, while he dreamed of freeing you. it was a fair trade, he thought, and not one he would argue against at this point. and it didn't go unnoticed that you mentioned your love for him, either.

"you still can," harry says, causing you to snap your eyes back at him. "excuse me?" you ask with a sneer. harry puts his book to the side and sits up, his feet planted on the ground. "kill me, that is. it's not impossible." he tells you with intrigue.

you're staring at him incredulously, your eyes always searching him. "you're…you're kidding, right? i mean, you took my magic while yours seems to be highly skilled. you really think i'd stand a chance?" you ask with a sarcastic laugh.

harry stands from his seat, taking achingly slow steps around the coffee table towards you. "yes, while your magic is weak, you are not, [y/n]. i've gone out of my way to keep the knives, fire pokers, swords, and hundreds of books on potions and charms out for your use, at any time, have i not?" harry questions you, getting closer now. though you would normally pull back from him, you stay seated, trying to process his words.

standing just before you, harry admires the curves of your face against the light of the fire. "with your nimble step and cunning wit," harry lifts his hand to gently put his fingers to your chin. the first physical contact he's had with you. unless you count the time you held that knife to his throat. "you could gut me like a pig before i even have the chance to squeal," harry's voice is soft but dark, your breathing caught in your throat at the contact.

as he backed away, harry could see the physical effect he had on you. your nervous blinking, your jaw tightening, hands trembling; he found it sweet he could still do that to you, even if you claimed to hate him.

after that day, harry felt less tension between you two. maybe being vulnerable around you made you realize he was never a threat to begin with. he didn't want anything from you, and he didn't care if you never wanted anything from him. as long as you were safe, that was all he cared about. he hoped you were starting to understand that.

though conversations between you were still tense and cryptic, there was a sense of unspoken comradery that felt nostalgic to you both. your serious, brooding angst matched with harry's calm, collected coldness made for an interesting match. it was never the same as before, you were both fairly aware it wasn't ever going to be, but there was an undoubted chemistry that still lingered from your teenage years together.

however, something else that always lingered during your interactions is your distaste for harry's actions. at any chance you can, you poke and prod at his past, partly to understand, he assumes, but also to test his limits. you were always cautious and suspicious of his submissive behavior when it came to this kind of confrontation; how could someone who was, at least at one point, so evil, so cruel and heartless, become so nonchalant about their past? who wipes out entire cities just to 'not dwell on it'?

this was always a point of contention between you, even if everything else until that point had been somewhat playful. it never so much upset harry as it riled you up, bringing strong emotions to the forefront, causing you to lash out at him. though he always stayed calm, he also always seemed to listen. he never disagreed with your feelings or sentiments, if anything he agreed with your hatred for himself. it's like that day in the living room when he tempted you with his death, and yet you never took the bait.

harry rather enjoyed watching you work yourself up, and admired how quick you were to defend yourself. he never wanted to upset you, of course, but sometimes he couldn't help his cheeky responses knowing it would get a look out of you that made his heart jump. it might not be the most gentlemanly thing he does, but something about your anger excited him. it was nothing like his vengeful rage from the past, but it had its own potency that ran a chill down his spine. harry was so used to everyone cowering away from him in fear of his power that he relished your open aggression towards him. it was thrilling, and it was exactly what he needed.

harry tried to remain respectful of his guest, but having such a beautiful mind and body occupy his space with him was hard to ignore sometimes. his eyes would wander, as well as his thoughts, and he had caught himself fantasizing about you a few too many times to admit. you were stunning, of course, you always had been, but there was something about you now that elevated your beauty in harry's eyes. maybe it was the dark, unforgiving coldness of your eyes, or the strong scowl that your expression rested in, or the underlying anger that was ready to bubble over at any point, but harry was completely infatuated with who you had become.

he knew how hypocritical it was for him to admire the parts of you that were forced out in your desperation to survive the decision he made for you all those years ago. though you seldom mentioned your years in azkaban, harry could see and feel the effects it continued to have on you. they weighed on him heavily, and though harry wasn't one to regret what's happened in the past, he wished he could've figured out another way to protect you at the time. a way that didn't dim the light inside of you the way that it has been.

but still, that light was there. when you smiled to yourself at your own quips, when you admired the food jinx prepares you, when you lost yourself in your books, harry could physically feel the light radiating within you. it was familiar, like an old hug from a friend, and was unmistakably beautiful.

sometimes he felt like a teenager again, discovering the parts of you that made him fall in love in the first place. your natural charm, your captivating eyes, the innate draw he felt to you simply by being in your presence. it was unlike anything he's felt for another person, before or since meeting you. but rather than two teenagers flirting over study dates, you were now two closed off adults with a complicated history and 'break up', if you could even call it that. it was nothing like the past, yet it was entirely too similar.

you and harry had been sitting in silence together in the living room, reading your respective books, enjoying each other's company. it was one of harry's favorite things to do with you now, and one of the only ways you two could be together without it ending in tension. neither of you talked, neither of you made noise outside of the occasional chuckle or gasp at your readings; it was a peaceful excuse for harry to be near you, and sometimes admire you from over the pages.

this night, however, you broke the traditional silence by asking harry a question you'd been keeping to yourself. "harry," you started. he loved the sound of his name in your voice, it was invigorating to listen to.

harry turned his head to you, his book still in his lap, noticing you've long since placed yours on the table beside you. "[y/n]," he responded with his typical smirk, returning his eyes to his book.

you cleared your throat a bit, your ankles crossing in front of you. "how often did you think of me," it was more of a statement than a question, your tone not as cold and questioning as it typically was.

harry knew what you meant, of course, and waited a moment before answering you. "i'd never stopped," he said simply. it was true, and it still is.

you turned to look at the fireplace, your knees bouncing out of the corner of harry's eye as he pretends to continue reading. "but you never came back for me," you stated. harry's eyebrows furrowed, glancing at you again before looking away to leave you with your words. "you left me there to die," you said, that familiar coldness returning to your tone.

harry let out a sharp breath. "that was never my intention, and you know that." he says without a reaction. you become visibly irritated, your jaw clenching with your fists. "you never thought about me," you insisted, your words heavy with contempt.

harry shut his book and threw it beside him, leaning towards you. you turned to glare at him, your nostrils flared. "i was lucky to sleep one full night in the last 5 years without a singular dream of you." he tells you, his voice as steady as his eye contact. "you haunt me like a ghost, [y/n]. you always will."

you're looking at him questionably as you stand from your seat across from him, now making your way towards him. "good. i hope you never forget about what you did to me. i won't." you hiss at him, your cheeks turning red. harry's mind races with you towering over him, leaning back in his seat to fully enjoy the view.

"how could i forget about you?" he quips, that same damn smirk making you grit your teeth. you take another, heavier step towards him, your fists trembling at your sides. "stop fucking doing that," you spit threateningly.

harry cocks his head to the side, looking you up and down. he likes seeing you like this, even if it scares him a bit. "what?" he asks, pushing you even further.

you step between his legs and lean into his face, only leaving a few inches between you. "that, you fucking creep. is this funny to you?" your voice is raised now, the anger finally starting to boil over again. "not at all," harry says, still smirking at your reaction.

"then wipe the smirk off your face and stop doing this to me, harry." you instruct him, leaning back to cross your arms in front of you. harry's biting his lip, not able to resist the lustful thoughts he's having of you in this situation. "doing what, exactly?" he asks, curious what you mean.

"this, all of this, harry. you look at me like a starving animal. you watch me around the house like a stalker. you say you think of me all the time and yet you've only so much as touched my chin." you rattle off, clearly frustrated with these thoughts you've kept inside. "you bring me back here and have me live like a princess when there's people outside who live like animals because of you and what you've done," you continue to raise your voice at him, now getting yourself completely worked up.

harry just watches you, like always, not disagreeing with any of your sentiments. as he normally doesn't, he knows you're a smart girl.

"and you're still fucking looking at me like that," you growl, your arm coming across his neck once more, like the first night you were here, holding him against the cushions of the couch.

harry doesn't stop you, as he never does, and instead enjoys the feeling of you kneeling between his legs in an attempt to further choke him. "i swear on my own life i'll still kill you, potter. what the fuck do you want from me?" you interrogate him, your dark eyes searching him for answers.

the smirk on harry's face only grows, causing you to push further into his throat. it's ironic how much he wants from you right now that would only further put his life at risk in your hands.

"i…never wanted…anything…" harry chokes out. he knows he's stronger than you and could easily escape your grasp, but he enjoys the feeling of letting you have control over the moment, and over him.

"that's a fucking lie," you say through gritted teeth, getting nose to nose with harry. "tell me what you want." you insist.

harry's heart is racing, his mind going blank from the lack of oxygen, and an inconvenient erection growing through his trousers. he could tell you so many things he wants, how many nights he's spent imagining you on top of him like this once again. he knows it would only anger you more, and he was almost tempted by that thought alone.

after a few moments of harry struggling to keep his eyes focused on you, you could feel something against your thigh that caught your attention. glancing down, your weight on harry's throat lessened enough for him to breathe slightly. you looked back up at his eyes with a look of confusion and shock before quickly returning to anger.

"seriously? are you fucking turned on right now as i'm threatening your life?" you ask him with disgust, slightly pulling away. harry's cheeks flush as he tries to catch his breath, your arm still resting across this collarbone. he stays quiet, his eyes glancing between you and his lap.

you scoff at him. "you're so pathetic, potter. how you were ever a leader of anything is a mystery to me." you ridicule him, an amused smirk coming across your own face.

your condescending attitude only fuels harry's excitement more, trying not to let his expression expose how much he's enjoying this.

"it's almost like you want me to kill you," your voice is quiet but dangerously cold, giving harry goosebumps as your breath falls across his blushing face. he tries to stop it but his body can't resist a low whine being forced from his throat.

your eyes fall to his lips for just a moment before you lean into them, surprising harry with a hungry kiss as you relax your weight onto his body. more moans escape harry's mouth as you roughly force your tongue past his lips. his hand naturally finds your waist, but you slap it away harshly with your free hand. "no touching." you warn him, your lips brushing against his.

"yes ma'am," harry responds.

you give him a look, your other leg kneeling beside his as you straddle his thigh, your skirt falling perfectly over his knee. "i still hate you," you growl, choking him against the couch once more. "i know," harry says breathlessly, staring at you like a helpless puppy.

forcing him into a suffocating kiss, you eventually let harry breathe as your lips find his neck, your teeth sinking into his skin and hands grasping his shoulders tightly. he groans at the pain, earning a slight roll of your hips on his leg. harry wants nothing more than to touch you right now, guiding your hips into his body, pleasuring you like he's wanted to for so long. but for now, he's just glad you're kissing him, and enjoys the feeling of your breath against his bruised skin.

"shirt off." you command, sitting back to observe the puddle harry's become in your grasp. he wastes no time taking off his sweater, throwing it behind him as your eyes trace over his scarred torso. your cold gaze softens at the sight, your fingers tracing the healed wounds carefully.

for a moment, when you glance at harry through your eyelashes, he feels that same love you shared as kids. the soft, innocent admiration that came with inexperience. for just one moment, nothing was complicated, and there was no history. you were discovering harry all over again, like he had been with you.

the moment didn't last for long as your gaze hardened once more looking at him. you stood from your straddling position, much to his disappointment. he was ready for you to end the moment and leave, but you didn't.

"on your knees." you instructed him. again, harry wasted no time as he sunk to his knees in front of the couch, eye level with the hem of your skirt. he looked up at you eagerly, hardly believing the privilege he had to see you above him like this.

harry's heart was racing as you lifted your skirt to expose your panties to him. his eyes never left yours, his breathing hitching at the beauty just in front of his face. his hands were patiently folded in his lap, aching to grab every part of you.

you slowly lifted one thigh onto harry's shoulder, reaching down to take the glasses off his face for him, setting them to the side. "now," you told him, your voice seductive as you lean your weight into him once more. harry holds his shoulders steady, his mouth close enough to your soaked pantines to nearly taste you already.

"let me ride your face," you coo, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as he continues staring at you with hungry eyes. "it's the least you can do for me," you smirk, your voice still chillingly cold and cryptic.

harry lets out a sigh of relief and desperation, eyes glancing at your panties before returning to your gaze. you slowly push his open mouth onto you, not able to hold back a sound of relief yourself.

harry's eyes flutter shut as your hips roll onto his face, losing himself in your smell and taste. your fingers tangle into his hair to keep him in place, soft, breathy gasps falling from your lips as you watch from above.

after a minute you become too desperate and pull your panties aside, instructing harry to hold them as you force his mouth onto your dripping pussy. harry listens like a good boy and holds the fabric, his hand also taking the chance to grip your inner thigh. a deep moan escapes your throat at the feeling.

harry's tongue quickly works its way across your arousal, enjoying every part of you as he pushes himself further into your pussy. your hands try to pull his hair back to relieve some of the overwhelming feeling, but harry doesn't let you control him for once. he's desperate to please you, his hunger growing the more of you he's allowed to have.

harry's other hand grabs for your skirt to hold it above his head, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. your face is twisted in pleasure, lips bitten, eyes glazed over as you watch harry disappear between your legs.

harry moans at the sight of you, sending shivers across your skin. you moan, biting your lips closed, your hips stuttering against his mouth. "fuck," you mumble, earning another moan from harry as his tongue circles your sensitive clit.

a hand rushed to your mouth as you attempt to hide your filthy noises, the feeling making your eyes roll back. you're trying to mask your pleasure, but harry can see right through you.

you finally successfully pull his mouth off of you, lips swollen and wet as his head rests in your grip. "good," you say breathlessly. your voice falters a bit. you take your thigh off harry's shoulder, again, much to his disappointment.

"sit," you tell him, gesturing to the couch once more. harry complies, returning to his spot on the couch behind him. you reach forward and unbutton his pants, pulling them down a bit with his assistance. you can see his erection through his briefs, causing you to smirk a bit before returning to your neutral expression.

"no touching," you remind harry as you position yourself to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. harry's sure you can hear his heartbeat racing under your control.

you start grinding your soaking wet panties against harry's clothed cock, your mouth falling open with his at the sensation. the light of the fire behind you leaves harry with the beautiful sight of you glowing in his lap, your warm skin pressed against his as your breathy moans fall into his neck.

harry can hardly take the teasing any longer, his moans becoming needier the harder he gets under you. "fuck, [y/n]," his voice is deep with desire, his head rolling back once your roll your hips into him harshly. you moan at the sound of your own name, your hands returning to his shoulders as your nails dig deep into his skin.

"that's right, say my name," you smirk, grinding into harry at a faster pace. "so pathetic," you remind him.

harry continuously lets your name fall from his lips as you watch him, a helpless, desperate mess beneath you. he loves the feeling of letting you use him any way you want to.

soon you can't wait much longer, and you pull out harry's cock from his briefs. the feeling of your hand grasping his shift makes harry's hips buck up involuntarily, silently asking for more.

you can't help but chuckle at just how eager he is. you're more than enjoying the control and effect you have over him.

"now," you say again, causing harry to look back at you with needy eyes. "you're gonna let me use you until i cum," you tell him, teasing yourself with the feeling of him against your wet pussy. harry's eyes nearly roll back again as he nods for you, his lips parted with uneven breaths.

you slide harry inside of you, adjusting to the feeling as harry's head falls back once again in pleasure. "so fucking wet," harry sighs softly, nearly whining. once your hips lower completely onto his length, you start to ride harry slowly, still adjusting to him. he's a full blown whining mess beneath you, his chest flushed and heaving as your pussy tightens around him.

you take in the sight of him, your eyes exploring every sweaty part of his body as you continue riding at a slow pace. you unwrap your arms from his shoulders, leaning back into your hips. "take my shirt off," you tell harry.

his eyes open again, looking at you eagerly. his hands nervously begin lifting your shirt, holding the fabric carefully between his fingers, and savors the sight and feeling of pulling it off of you, his eyes glancing at your chest before locking with yours again.

"so beautiful," he tells you, your skin looking deliciously soft in the warm lowlight. "i know, now be quiet," you shut him up, picking up the pace of your hips.

harry's eyes narrow at you, the intoxicating feeling of you wrapped around his cock only making him hungrier for your pleasure. the sight of you bouncing in his lap, your breasts just in front of his face as you lean your hands next to his head on the back of the couch.

"open," you tell harry.

he doesn't have to be told twice before his lips part, his tongue eagerly waiting for you. you guide your nipple into his mouth, your hips rolling onto harry's cock in circles. his teeth and tongue tease the sensitive skin, your pussy gripping harry even more and earning a low growl from his chest. his hands remained at his sides, but he wanted nothing more than to feel you everywhere on top of him.

you start riding harry once more, his teeth still gripping your nipple making you whine at the feeling. "fuck," you let the word slip out, your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip. harry's more than aroused at your reaction to him, his cock aching inside of you to release.

you pull harry's head back by his hair, forcing him to look up at you. you reach for his glasses that you sat down earlier, returning them to his face delicately. harry appreciates the gesture and can better see the pleasure in your eyes, a soft smile falling across his lips.

"so pretty," he whispers. he can see the blush you try to hide, looking away from his eyes and down at your hips.

you start groaning in frustration, your grip on his hair tightening, causing harry to wince. "you're gonna make me cum," you tell him through broken moans, your thrusts becoming uneven. harry can feel you tightening around him again. he groans at the feeling, your name slipping from his mouth again and again. this only makes you fall apart more, high pitched whimpers coming from you as you chase your high.

you soon sink into harry's neck, your cries of pain and pleasure falling across his skin as your legs start to shake. you can't even form words as your body feels the waves of intense pleasure from each thrust onto harry's cock. your hands move to his shoulders again, holding onto him for stability as you continue to ride out your climax.

harry grows impatient at the feeling of your orgasm and watching you break down into him. he finally grabs for you, moving your hips to the couch beside him, staying inside you while you gasp at his movement. he kicks off his pants and adjusts himself between your legs.

"harry," you try to protest, your voice weak and shaky. "just let me do this, darling," he growls, his hips becoming flush against yours as he pushes his cock completely inside of you. you let out a gasp, your hand slapping over your lips once more.

harry hungrily digs his cock deeper inside of you with each slow thrust, his hands holding himself up above you as he watches his cock easily slide in and out of your soaking wet pussy. he folds your legs back as he sinks even deeper into you.

"holy fuck," he groans, his breathing heavy, hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep himself steady. "so beautiful, [y/n]," harry tells you again, his droopy eyes focused on your face twisted in pleasure.

you look at him, your eyes full of lust, but still cold as ice. "i…hate you," you remind him through strained breaths, struggling to take his entire length, still glaring at him.

this pushes harry over the edge, his hips quickening until he feels himself start to unravel. he pulls out of your warm pussy and cums on your stomach, groaning at the sight of you below him.

you gasp at the feeling, looking at harry with shock. "did you just cum from me saying i hate you?" you ask, your tone mocking his desperation. harry nods, still stroking his cock slowly, his other hand remaining on your thigh as his moans quiet down.

"you're disgusting," you tell him coldly, but harry can see the smirk on your face and the lust in your eyes. he watches you below him, smirking in return.

"and you love it."

[linskywords]

Hockey RPF Recs from 2023

I realized recently that I haven't done a great job keeping up with hockey fic beyond the authors I was already subscribed to, so I did some reading in the tag for the past year (and of course fell in a hole and neglected other parts of my life, you know the drill). Mattdrai is even bigger than I thought?? (She said, having been living under a rock.) Also, wow, *amazing* writers out there I had no idea about! Here are my favorites of the stories I've read so far:

so is the longing by dogjuice (mattdrai): This one might win as my favorite fic of the year. You know how sometimes you read something that's not quite as well written as you want it to be but it's doing the thing you want so you read it anyway? This is NOT that fic. It hits such good juicy trope buttons and also is clever and hilariously written. Top marks.

i'll tell you when to stop by dogjuice (mcmattdrai): Sadly this is the only other fic dogjuice has posted, but it is also excellent. The premise could be ridiculous in someone else's hands but rings so true. I was on tenterhooks for it all to work out.

In From the Cold by makeit_takeit (TK/Patty): FERAL. OVER. THIS. All three stories in this (loosely related) series are impeccable, but this one gave me the most feels. I am weak for a repressed closeted character gradually discovering happiness, and the depth of characterization is breathtaking.

Baby, I'm a Wildcard by wearemany (mattdrai): The writing!! This fic is mostly developing/established relationship, which is not usually my fave, but somehow I loved the entire thing?? Just really compelling character-focused writing that had me completely absorbed without needing to rely on angst or drama (much as I love those in other stories).

Edmonton 10 by Helenish (mattdrai): Helenish is incomparable. I cannot express how happy I am that they've (she's?) gotten into hockey lately. Read everything; I don't even know if this is the best one because I *am* subscribed to them so I read the stories as they came out and didn't rank them or anything, but this one is excellent and also you can't go wrong.

this must be the place by rafting (Jamie/Trevor): Love me some sexuality exploration. The USNTDP ensemble was so vividly and delightfully present in this one. Also, Trevor is so dumb. How can you not love it.

let me look at you by isozyme (mattdrai, mcmattdrai): This one is emotionally ROUGH but so well done. Heed the warnings, but there's plenty of emotional satisfaction as well. I read it several weeks ago and it's still living in my head.

roughed up in the afterglow by notthequiettype (mattdrai): This one is pretty short but gets a lot done in not too many words. Really excellent character interactions and dialogue.

linger by bropunzeling (mattdrai): Top-notch A/B/O content. Sometimes you just want Matthew to have heat sex with Leon and pretend not to have feelings until he can't anymore.

in the honey by donderwalk (Jamie/Trevor): Okay it's been a while since I read this one but I remember it as the highlight of my Jamie/Trevor tag search at the time, so I'm gonna say it's probably great. 😄

Serenity in Those Deep Waters by angry_geno_is_score (larsdunn): This mashes the D/s buttons sooooo good. Has it inspired me to write more D/s? Oh yes. Check it out; You Will Have Feels.

how lovely are thy branches by quadratics (mattdrai, Brady/Tim): Hilarious premise, charming execution. This isn't even about characters getting together and yet I loved it.

Hourglass Theory by puckedup (mattdrai): So short, and totally managed to punch me in the chest (in the best way).

[thelightsandtheroses]

five: we'd only die of lonely secrets

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.

Chapter Summary: Your relationship with Joel hits some challenges when something happens with Ellie. Meanwhile, Gabe has some questions for Sean. Word Count - 3466 Chapter Warnings - mentions of self-harm (Ellie burns herself to cover her bite as in canon and the reader discovers her afterwards), mentions of secrets, disagreements, discussion of a child’s parentage, reader is a single mum of a teenager, possibly warnings for implied cults, 18+ blog MDNI Notes: I’m sorry for the delay in updating  - this chapter marks a little change in the fic and some drama and angst is coming but it’s been planned for a very long time. I really hope you will stick with it! Chapter title is from the National song the System Only Dreams In Total Darkness

Previous | Series | Next

Being with Joel feels like second nature.  It doesn’t move too fast or slow, your relationship feels like a natural progression. It’s inevitable and undeniable and it feels good. Really good.

In the weeks that have passed since you and Joel officially first got together, since you turned up at his house that night, you’ve grown stronger. Gabriel and Ellie know about you both now, people around Jackson have stopped gossiping as much about the two of you.

You’re taking things slowly; spending no more than one or two nights at each other’s a week, telling yourselves that it’s okay to slow down a bit now, that you have time. It doesn’t feel like you have time when you’re alone though; then it’s still desperate hands and lips and barely repressed moans.

You thought you knew what life in Jackson was for you now. Joel’s changed things.

The leaves in Wyoming are changing too; the foliage has become bright orange and  yellow. It’s a sign of their incoming death and decay but it’s beautiful. You can’t help but be taken in by the colours and vivid beauty of the state you now live in. In Kansas, the city was built up and you hardly saw surroundings like this. Even when the leaves are dying, they’re still more beautiful than barricades and blockades.

You carefully check your reflection in the hallway mirror as you zip up your jacket.

After several artfully rearranged dates, Joel and you have been instructed to have dinner with Maria and Tommy. It shouldn’t be stressful; they’re your friends after all, but they’re Joel’s family and this feels like a test of your emerging relationship.

“Really mum?” Gabriel asks, leaning on the banister and smirking at you. His hair is getting long and in his favourite hoodie he looks younger for a moment, more like the little boy you remember. Not that you can say that to his face.

“Whatever do you mean?” you ask in mock ignorance.

“You nervous?”

”Of course not.”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at you. “Uh-huh.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve done the dinner with the family thing. It’s always been the other way around.”

“It’s Maria and Tommy,” he replies indignantly, shaking his head. “They were like, your friends before Joel even came here. Surely you’ve got the dibs here.”

“They’re his family.”

“They’re your friends.”

“I know. I’m relaxed, honest.” you reply, trying to hide your nerves as best as you can. You’re used to this being the other way around; to the dinners being with your family and this feels unfamiliar and daunting.

“So why are you wearing your best clothes?”

“Maybe, I just wanted to?”

“Uh-huh.” Your son shakes his head. “Well, hope you have fun anyway.”

“Thanks, sweetie.”

You hear a knock at the door and Gabe raises his eyebrows at you, not moving from his position on the stairs and instead sitting down on a stair with a sly smirk.

You open the door and smile widely at Joel. He’s wearing a deep blue chambray shirt and jean. You can’t help but notice how suspiciously clean his boots are too.

“Well look at you,” you say as he steps into the hallway.

“Hi,” he replies, nodding his head at Gabe as well. “Hey, Gabe.”

“Hey,” Gabe replies as he observes Joel, carefully looking him over as well. “Not you as well,” he mumbles which cause you burst out laughing as Joel looks at you in confusion.

“Don’t ask,” you say, grateful for a sudden distraction as Beau steps out from the kitchen, nodding at Joel in greeting.

“You on patrol tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah, Tommy and I got roped into an extra shift. Well, Tommy did and he signed me up.”

“Gotta love family for that,” Beau says with a laugh.

“Tell me about it,” Joel replies, shaking his head and raising his hands in the universal ‘what can do you do’ pose.

“Why are there extra shifts?” your son asks.

“Signs of infected, or … signs we ought to be a little more vigilant with our patrols for a couple of days,” Beau says and looking at your son’s face, quickly adds, “We’re not adding extra patrols for people in school, not right now. It’s just a precaution.” Joel looks at your face briefly and then back at Beau.

“Oh, okay.” You wish your son didn’t sound disappointed at the prospect of not being needed on additional patrols. He’s growing too quickly; in your mind he’s still this tiny baby you could hold with one hand and now he’s a man, creeping ever closer to adulthood by the minute.

“Right, we should head out.” You make your way over to Gabriel, briefly hugging him despite his falsified reluctance. “Love you,” you say in a quiet voice so the others can’t hear and squeezing him one last time before stepping away.

When you step outside your house, Joel clasps your hand, pulling you close to him on the porch.

He kisses you tenderly, wrapping one arm around you before you both head towards Tommy and Maria’s.

“You look real pretty today,” he says, emphasising the southern drawl that lingers in his voice. There’s mischief and desire and something else in his eyes. You’ve taken in the details on his face and committed them to your heart now. Each freckle, sunspot or scar has been logged over nights and mornings and stolen moments.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you reply, leaning into his touch. “We could change our mind -”

“Head to the bench?”

“Or yours. Either works for me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I’m just saying that we have an evening to ourselves and maybe we could do something else.”

“It sounds like an option. Probably for the best, Tommy’s really only good with a barbecue. Lived off our leftovers or takeout back in the day.”

“So you were the cook?”

Joel flushes. “I wouldn’t go that far. I - Sarah cooked too. I worked a lot.“

“Oh yeah?” you ask casually. You only learnt about Sarah recently under similar circumstances, a quick slip of the tongue, a panicked expression and then a brief confession. Joel’s experienced a loss you never want to truly understand, but one you need to try and empathise with.  “You were a contractor, right?”

Joel raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Ellie told you that?”

“Oh, yeah. Ellie was extremely proud to tell me about you being a contractor Before. She seems to think it was a real popular job back then.”

Joel looks down, stifling a laugh. “I mean - you can’t argue it’s not better than being a politician, right?”

You smirk. ”Only just.”

Joel squeezes your shoulder tighter as you approach Tommy and Maria’s. “I’ll remember that,” he teases. “For that, we’re definitely not skipping dinner.”

“Did I ever tell you how much I respect the art of carpentry, and spirit levels and building stuff? Fixing stuff?”

Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Uh huh. Spirit levels, really?”

“I didn’t hang around a lot of construction sites.”

“Good thing too. Right, let’s get this thing over with so I can get you back to mine.”

“Why Mr Miller, anyone would think you have plans for me.”

Joel smirks wickedly. “You’ll have to find out,” he whispers, kissing you briefly on the lips before knocking on Tommy’s door.

The sun is still rising as you approach the back porch of your home the following morning. The town is lit in a rosy glow; everything is softer, more mellow.

“I’m sick of feeling like she’s keeping secrets from me is all,” Gabe says, kicking the edge of the porch half-heartedly.

“She’s your mum, that’s just - that’s just being a parent. I don’t - I don’t think there’s any big secrets.” You steel yourself for a blow that never comes, for Sean to add something.

“But she never talks about him. I don’t know anything. You don’t say anything either, neither does Uncle Beau. No one talks about it.”

“I know. It’s - it was a difficult time, Gabe, none of us want to go back to then.”

“It’s not like when it had just happened - you know, you can’t just say that, Uncle Sean. I only want to know something - I want to feel like there’s not just this question mark over who my dad was. I know what happened to him and I know loads of kids who had the same thing happen but their parents tell them about the other one, they have photos or memories they talk about,” Gabe pauses and adds, “I want to feel like I had a dad. I’ve never ever seen a photograph of him. Do I even look like him? I know it upsets mum to talk about it. That’s why I’ve come to you.”

You can feel the tears building in your eyes, the stabbing ache in your stomach at your son’s words, at his plaintive desperate voice. What have you done? What are you continuing to do?

There’s a silence as you try and work out if you should intervene, if you should say something and join this conversation or if you’d only make things worse.

“I was there when you were born,” Sean says in a low voice that you can hardly hear.

“What?”

“I helped deliver you,” he says and you watch the way he puts a hand on Gabe’s back as your son sits next to him. 

“I did not need to know that. I get it, okay. I know you and Uncle Beau - but that’s not the point.”

“I know it’s not, but I’ve been there for every milestone of your life. So’s your Uncle Beau. You have never been without love for a second. Your mum would do anything for you. She’s our family, you are our family. It might not feel enough, but it’s the best I can give you. I’m sorry you didn’t get to have a dad with you growing up, but you got me and Uncle Beau and that’s like double what most kids get.”

“Really? That’s your argument here?”

“It worked when you were seven.”

You hear the snort of laughter.

”Mum seems happier,” he says, ”She really likes Joel, I can tell.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“It’s a good thing. She’s - she deserves to be happy too. That’s why we all came here, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Joel seems decent enough and I like him better than her ex already.”

“What an endorsement,” Sean says with a laugh.

“Whatever, I’m heading inside.”

“Okay.”

You watch your son head back inside and after a moment dare to step forward. A twig snaps under your feet and Sean instantly looks alert, his hands poised by his jeans pocket. 

“It’s you,” he says as you approach. “Shit, how much did you hear?” Sean asks.

“Enough.” You lean your head back and sigh. “Thank you.”

“He’s not stopping, sweetie, he’s a clever kid. He knows we’re keeping something back.”

”I don’t get it.”

“I do. If I was keeping something from you, would you keep asking or let it go?”

“That’s-”

“He’s your kid for sure.”

“So, what it’s my fault for not talking about him enough?”

“I think we didn’t mean to, but we’ve made him realise there’s more to the story and so of course, he won’t let that go.”

“So what do I do?”

“We could -”

“That’s not an option,” you say firmly, arms folded. “We swore we’d never tell him about The Junction.”

“Well, that was when he was five and still fucking believed in the tooth fairy. I just think - maybe, I get it, I so get it, but maybe we’ve made it worse by not talking about it. About any of it.” Sean looks sad for a moment. “We put those years in a box, but they still happened.”

“We’ll figure something out, won’t we?” You feel so small all of a sudden; every moment of confidence, of happiness in the dinner at Tommy and Maria’s, your night with Joel has evaporated. You hug your arms around yourself and look up at the stars.

“Of course we will,” Sean says. ”So, uh, tell me about the dinner.“

You sit next to him and lean your head on his shoulder before you start to talk to your best friend.

You can’t remember if Joel’s due back from his day’s work yet. Him and Tommy were out on that extra patrol because there had been reports of potential infected or raiders nearby. You thought it might be good to

You hear a faint cry and muffled scream from somewhere in the house.

Ellie.

It’s automatic and primal, your instincts kick in as you open the door and run up towards the commotion in the kitchen.

You have no idea what you will find in the house - you prepare for an infected, an intruder, anything.

Somehow you didn’t even consider this though.

Ellie is standing over the sink and her arm - you think it’s cut. Then you realise.

It’s a burn.

Her arm is burning.

There’s a turned over bottle of kitchen chemicals next to the sink and you notice how your legs feel unsteady beneath you. You try and remember the basic first aid, the things you are supposed to and not do.

She needs you.

”Oh shit,“ she says, seeing your face. “I - I uh, spilt it. I didn’t - shit. It really fuckin’ hurts.” She looks so young, so scared and vulnerable at this moment.

“Okay, we’ve got this, Ellie. It’s all going to be okay.”

You exhale and then move.

You’re waiting for Joel. Ellie’s okay, her arm is clean and you’ve bandaged it as best as you can. There are hundreds of small alarms going off in your head. Something feels off about this incident; Ellie’s evasive, hiding something.

“Ellie - I -”

“I’m fine.”

“Did you - is everything okay, Ellie?”

“I just burnt my fucking arm so -” Ellie pauses. “Sorry - I’m okay, I’m fine. It’s uh, a good thing you were passing by.”

“When’s Joel due back?”

“Hey Ellie?” You ask, nervously twisting the edge of your shirt around your fingers. “Is - everything okay at home? Or school?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Why?”

You look at Ellie carefully, trying to sculpt your features into a clear message of ‘you can talk to me’. “I’m worried about you.”

“It was an accident,” Ellie says, looking at you with a piercing stare. “I was trying to clean the sink and -”

“Since when do you clean the sink?”

“Well, now we know why I don’t.” She reaches to touch the bandage and you shake your head.

“Try not to touch it. I don’t want it to get infected.”

“Okay.”

“You - you’re sure everything’s okay?”

“Yes!

Perhaps it’s foolish to think children can just be children these days, you’ve tried to shield Gabriel from so much. Maybe Ellie ….maybe she couldn’t be? You know enough about Ellie to know she’s an orphan, that her and Joel teamed up in Boston and that she’s become his family since then, his daughter.

Before you say anything else, Joel walks in. His face lights up when he sees you and Ellie only to very quickly fall when he sees her arm. He moves over to her quickly, his face wan and wrought with worry as he gets on his knees to examine her bandaged arm. “What the hell happened?”

“Ellie was cleaning the sink; she spilt the chemical on herself.”

“What?” Joel looks like he wants to be sick. He keeps looking at her arm and then at Ellie’s face.

“It was an accident,” Ellie says before looking over at you,  “Luckily you were stopping by and you turned out to be pretty good with first aid.”

Joel raises an eyebrow at you. “I’m hardly a doctor.”

“Thank you,” he says with relief, sitting back on his knees.

“She looked after me. She was really nice,” she adds in a quiet voice. “She uh - washed it and then dressed it and - I’m, I’m going to head upstairs to do some homework.”

“Ellie -”

There’s a moment of silence after Ellie leaves the room. The only sound is Joel’s bones creaking as he gets up from the floor and sits on the sofa.

You move to the armchair next to him, your heart racing as you know you need to say the words you’ve been thinking since you walked into his home today.

“I’m worried she hurt herself on purpose,” you whisper, hands clasped soberly in your lap.

Joel freezes. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“I know you think that -”

“I’ll talk to her, okay?” There’s something in his eyes, some small sense of recognition or something that you can tell he’s keeping from you.

“What aren’t you tellin’ me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I can tell there’s something, Joel, give me some credit. I’ve survived long enough to read faces.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you’re reading me wrong.”

“Joel, I - what are you keeping from me?”

“Don’t.” You understand where Gabe gets it from now. You can tell there’s more to this story and you want to push at it, poke the scab until it bleeds, know the truth because you only imagined a hundred terrible stories until you know this.

You’re both standing now, both looking at each other with equal parts desperation and concern. “Talk to me, Joel. I thought you trusted me -”

“You think you get to know everything right away? I have been honest with you, sweetheart, and I like you a lot. I didn’t think I’d find someone so - but that doesn’t mean you’ve got the right to ask that?”

“Joel -”

“I have never pushed you about your past, about your secrets. I have trusted you; I’ve let you into my home, my - Ellie’s home too.”

You feel your face heat with shame. “I just - I was worried about Ellie.”

“You don’t need to worry about her,” Joel snaps, “That’s my job.”

“Oh, fuck you, Joel.”

Joel swallows and exhales slowly. “I don’t wanna fight with you, please leave this. I swear I will tell you what you need to know.”

“I don’t want you to decide what I need to know.” There are moments, memories that rise to the surface like bile. You can’t fall into that trap again.

“Then what do you want? Total honesty, because that goes both ways, sweetheart.”

The conversation you overheard between Sean and Gabe flashes in your head, the many secrets you have kept from so many people, including Joel, over the years.

 Sometimes you wonder if you’ve told so many half-truths, you’ve forgotten what actually happened in the past now. If all that’s left are lightly edited ghosts of a life half-lived.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here,” you whisper.

“I can - I promise you that I would never hurt Ellie, or you, or Gabriel.” He swallows. “Not ever consciously at least. I can promise you that right here and right now. Is that enough? Can that be enough?”

“I - okay.”

“Okay.”

You reach out and meet Joel in the middle, letting him wrap his arms around you. “I’ll talk to Ellie, okay? I promise.”

“Thanks.”

You shrug your bag to your other shoulder around you as you lock the library door behind you. It’s still light outside but there’s a chill starting that shows that twilight is on its way. 

You turn around, ready to go home, when you notice there are two people standing ahead of you.

Sean and Beau are looking at you with grave expressions.

You take in Sean’s appearance first. His hands are fiercely dug into his hoodie pockets, he’s looking down and the way his leg is nervously shaking rings all too many alarm bells.

“Where’s Gabe?” you ask automatically, looking frantically around. Where is your son? What has happened to him?

 “It’s not about him,” Sean says with a devastated voice and somewhere you know you’re starting to piece this together. For Sean and Beau to look at you like this, for your best friend to be acting this way, there’s only a few things it could be. This isn’t normal - something is terribly wrong.

“Beau, just tell me. Please!”

Beau doesn’t say anything immediately, he looks at Sean and then sighs. After a second, he produces a small piece of paper out of his jeans pocket, unfolding it carefully.

It’s such a small piece of paper; you wonder what on Earth is on this, what could possibly cause such distress to both Sean and Beau.

There’s a sick feeling rising in your stomach, the sense of someone pulling a thread tightly around your organs.

“We need to talk about the Junction,” Beau says flatly, showing you the simple design on the paper that instantly sends your heart lurching to your stomach.

Oh.

Oh.

You knew things were going too well.

Tag List

YHIM: @orcasoul @pedropascalsbbg @yoursoulsunbreakable @iamskyereads @genetics4life @everyth1ngfan @frickatives @perennialdoll247 @joelsgreys @pedrobaby @missladym1981 @noisynightmarepoetry @picketniffler @titlee78

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

[catindabag]

Besties, my friends, my drinking buddies, the Snowjanus angst train got me good yesterday because of a really unique fanfic!😭

And now I can’t stop thinking about a very depressed and repressed prisoner!Coryo Snow.

Yes, you heard me! Prisoner. Coryo. Snow.

Also, Sejanus Plinth became a freaking D13 rebel (leader?) in this fic, and with his help, District 13 won the 2nd war, killed President Ravinstill, arrested a lot of people, and took control of the country (earlier than in canon).

And now, rebel leader!Sejanus has all the power, influence, and money (again) in the country!

Meanwhile, sad cabbage boy Coryo Snow is now rich boy Plinth’s official wife prisoner.

Yes, I’m not kidding. Coryo is now the official wife prisoner of Sejanus Plinth whether D13 likes it or not.

Think about it. Think about it! The Capitol drama! The angst! The confusion! The power imbalance!

The rebels are confused AF! The Districts are confused AF!

To sum it up, local rich rebel boy started the 2nd rebellion (earlier than in canon) so that he could imprison, date, and marry the craziest prettiest platinum blonde Head Gamemaker in the history of Panem. That’s it. That’s the story.

They be like:

Rebel: Commander Plinth, I have a question.

Sejanus: Question denied.

Rebel: Why can’t we execute the pretty blonde Head Gamemaker again?

Sejanus: Because he’s my wife.

Rebel: Your what?

Sejanus: Coryo is my wife!

Rebel: But-

Sejanus: Go away! Coryo’s mine! He’s mine! We’re married!

Rebel: Sir!

Sejanus: He’s my prisoner! He’s my wife!

Coryo: *enters the scene wearing an expensive “kiss the cook” apron* So. . . Who wants tea?😀

Sejanus: My love!😍

Rebel: F*ck this. I’m going home.

Lol. Prisoner!Coryo and rebel!Sejanus will be living in my head rent free from now on.🥲

Here’s the fic:

turning a new shade of red by BlueFrogs

Let’s just hope that the author will continue this story. It’s quite excellent in my opinion.🥺

[97keanu]

"ˣ'ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈˢ

ʷᵃˢʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᵗʰʳᵒᵒᵐ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃⁿᵈˢ"

Dave Lizewski x demonic!Reader

Premise: In this chapter, Dave takes Katie to Melody Lane Tavern, along with You and the rest of the group because somehow, he isn't really sure why, this has turned into a group outing. When you see Dave and Katie chatting it up, you decide to get a little revenge by dancing with Todd on the dance floor before the real concert starts. Unfortunately, Dave seems inspired and begins dancing with Katie. You find out how far your heartless mean girl soul is willing to go to get revenge for the jealousy you feel.

Later, you find out what happens to bad girls who decide to double down and get interested in the lead singer.

Tags/CW: Dark Fic, Dark Themes, Morally wrong choices, Nerdy!Dave, Jealous!reader, Jealous!Dave, DRAMA, a lot of miscommunications, semi-sex crazed!reader, reader who is a mean girl who likes to fuck her feelings away, wrong person wrong time, right person is just out of reach, refusal to admit crushes, mutual pining, revenge sex, aggressive, doggy, blowjobs, soul connection, red string of fate, soul connection sex, public orgasm, hidden orgasm, dubious consent on that one, semi-mentions of drugging, blood, gore, canon typical gore, reader is taken advantage of via demonic spell, reader is kidnapped, cliff hanger but there are a lot of dark themes in this one so needed a little break where we stop.

A/N: This chapter is packing a LOT. We are going to start out pretty fun and I'm throwing the Todd Haynes girlies a bone (if you forgot who he is in Kick Ass, he's Evan Peters <3). Later in the chapter we meet the creep, Nikolai, and unfortunately there is horror and angst once again. Our two lovers are in for a long night.

Read part one here, and read this part on ao3 here read part three here

words: 7.2k

Likes/reblogs/comments inspire me to keep going!

Early spring has a chill in the air that makes Dave's bones shiver. Winter still hasn't unleashed her grasp on the small town of Devil's Kettle, and Dave is pulling his jacket closer to his body for warmth as his breath trails in front of him. He has a strange feeling that the chill isn't just from the cold. No, there's something off about tonight, he just has no idea what.  Besides that, he had horrible dreams all last night. He can't remember much of them, but what he does remember involves blood running down stone, the rushing sound of water, and for some reason, your voice screaming out for him. Speaking of you, Dave is currently following your puffy jacket silhouette in the dark as the two of you walk up to Melody Lane Tavern. He sees you shoot him an interesting look over your shoulder, he wishes he could ever get a real read on what you are feeling. Even though he finds himself knowing you so deeply, anticipating your needs most of the time before you even voice them, he never knows how you truly feel. Which is to say that right now, you're shooting him a look that he can only describe as repressed anger, but he has no idea why you would be so angry with him. He hates when he thinks you’re angry at him the most, he can’t help but feel like everyone else who thought you two made an odd pair might just end up being right about it not working. That's another thing, he has no idea why you of all people would ever give him, world-class nerd, the time of day. Yes, you two have been friends ever since you plucked him off the playground and proclaimed best friends forever in front of all the other five-year-olds there, but this fairytale should have ended a long time ago for him. He was so sure that by the time you two reached middle school, you would see the truth, hear all the mean things the other kids would say about him, and walk away like his mom did his dad.  But no, you actually stayed, and on top of that, you never even made him feel like a loser. You never said anything about him liking comics or being obsessed with superhero movies. Even when Dave told you that he wishes he could be a superhero, like a real-life superhero, you just listened and told him that you 'found him pretty super'. It was one of your rare tender moments with him. Not to say that you two aren't extremely close, but it does feel like half the time he never really knows what you actually think of him, beyond being a best friend and someone you can depend on. 

For a while, especially when puberty hit and his hormones went crazy, he wondered if he could ever actually be with you, in more than a friend way. But Dave also knew that every other boy in school was hounding for you, and you confided in him that you hated how it made you feel like an object. Your adamant denial of boy after boy really made Dave believe he had zero chance with you. In fact, he tried so hard not to see you as a romantic interest so as not to ruin the lifeline friendship he had with you, since at the time you were his only friend. 

No, Dave learned years ago to keep his feelings for you hidden deep, and by now it's as easy as breathing not to act on them. Even if sometimes you drift through his mind while he gets some much-needed release at night, he feels guilty after, knowing to his core that you would never love a guy like him more than a friend. And he was content with that just to be near you, but he also knows if that's the case, then he needs to move on to someone actually in his league. 

That's where Katie Deauxma comes in. Todd and Marty have been hounding Dave for years to find some girl, any girl to talk about with them. While they have been lusting after anything feminine and that walks, he's never chimed in. In fact, they're not as close friends as he wishes he could be because of that. It makes it so awkward. Not to say Dave isn't a man with needs, but he is not a total horn dog the way they are. 

This was a point of contention between the three boys. At first, they actually tried to get Dave to admit to secretly fucking you all these years, or at least being some sort of cuckold to your obviously promiscuous ways. You're one of the most popular girls in school, of course, you're a whore, right? Well, Dave knows for a fact that you've never had sex. You would have told him that, he's your best friend. Even though that information would have hurt him, despite his constant refusal to accept or admit what's under the surface for you, he believes he would know if you had had sex. That's what best friends do, tell each other stuff like that. 

After Dave finally had a break and stopped talking to Todd and Marty for a week, they didn't bring up their suspicions that something had to have transpired sometime between the two of you. Instead, they moved on to trying to get interested in any girl at school that wasn't you. 

That's when Dave finally noticed Katie. She sat next to him in Biology III and for the whole semester, Dave never gave her a second glance. When she and him were partnered on a project last week though, he learned she was actually really nice, and he kind of liked her laugh. She wasn't as beautiful as you, not by far, but she wasn't not pretty. No, she had her own charms, and in fact, she was much more in Dave's league than you would ever be, and that was a more pressing fact. Along with the other fact that Dave was a Certified Virgin, who had never had even a kiss before, Katie seemed like a safe bet. Obtainable. 

And now here he is going with you to see her at this concert tonight, which he still can't quite believe was an accident on your part for turning it into a group outing. He just doesn't get why you would do that to argue anyways. So now the two of you are meeting Todd and Marty here, while Katie brings along her friend Erika. 

Dave feels you grab his hand and pull him into the bar as Marty and Todd have a senseless game of pool in the corner. He allows you to pull him to towards them, and he catches a glimpse of you two in the mirrored backsplash of the bar. For a moment, it almost looks as if you are the one bringing Dave to a date, the way you’re pulling on his hand and biting your glossy, juicy lips with a smile. He can’t help it, his heart flutters around his ribcage, and he has to close his eyes for a moment to make it stop. He knows he can’t think like that, especially when he’s trying to have a date with Katie right now. 

Todd and Marty stop their goofing around to welcome Dave and you, and you can see a twinkle in Todd’s eye as he looks you up and down. That’s something else, Dave knows for a fact that his friends, Todd more so than Marty, are totally obsessed with you. They think it’s awesome they get to actually hang out with a popular girl when it once in a blue moon happens that all of you are put together in an outing such as this. And Todd isn’t even subtle about how badly he wants you, he gets hard just seeing you enter with a low-cut top and mini skirt. Oh yes, Todd is going to have the most wicked thoughts about you tonight when he’s in his bed alone, Dave can practically see the scenes play out in his mind right now. Dave isn’t sure why the idea of Todd having such a hard-on for you angers him so, but it does. If Dave were a different man, he would knock Todd out just for looking at you the way he does. But he doesn’t have that kind of authority, Dave isn’t entitled to worry about who drools over you are not. 

“Dave! You finally made it, are you ready to totally woo Katie tonight?” Dave could audibly groan from how loud Todd is saying it, and as Todd does, Dave notices your eyebrow twitch out of the corner of his eye. 

“Yeah, sure dude, hopefully it goes over well as a group thing…” Dave says half-heartedly, honestly feeling a bit lost right now in the decades-old bar, not really sure why he is here in the first place.

He knows why, of course, but something about tonight just feels totally off. Honestly, his muscles feel so tense, like he needs to run, get out of here. He also has this deep feeling to take you with him, something tells him you’re not safe here tonight, none of you are. He wonders if this is what the unknowing teens of a B-list horror movie feel at the start of the night, this heavy cloud over their heads that they keep denying is going to surely drown them if they don’t take action. Just like those teens, Dave chooses to ignore the feeling and sit down at a table with the group. 

As he does, Katie and her friend Erika come through the doors of the bar, Katie getting up onto her tippy toes to look around for Dave. He immediately jumps up from the table, knocking his knees against it like the dork he is, and trying to not acknowledge the pain, instead waving Katie over the best he can through gritted teeth. God, he hopes he doesn’t look like a complete loser right now. He feels terribly insecure at the moment. 

“Katie! Over here!” Dave calls out, and Katie finally spots him, pulling Erika over with her. 

They fit into the booth with ease, Katie sitting next to Dave, who is sandwiched between her and you. Dave can't see you seething while he chats up Katie. 

No, instead he leaves you next to Todd and Marty who are arguing over which girl in whatever video game of the week is the hottest. You cannot believe how head over heels nerdy Dave is for Katie. Your heart sinks, and the burn it leaves is practically radiating off of you, even Todd notices your reaction. 

"Hey, you alright?" His geeky voice asks nervously. Even though he and Dave were good friends, he hardly ever got to talk to you. You really didn't give him the time of day either, but he couldn't help that he thought you were one of the hottest girls in school. He often wishes that Dave would give up the details between you two, there's no way there's nothing going on between you two, right?

You ignore Todd for a moment, focusing on how Katie just made Dave laugh instead, and that's when a wicked plan began unfolding in your pretty little head. You turn to Todd. 

"Yeah, I'm just peachy, Todd." You put on a fake smile and bat your long lashes at him. "Actually, would you like, totally come dance with me?"

Todd's face goes red, his words unable to come to the surface for a moment, then he nods, excitedly. 

"Y-Yeah, I'd, I'd love to!" He looks back over at Marty who seems in disbelief that Todd is getting to dance with you. 

You turn to Dave who is blushing and asking Katie all about her day, and scooch. 

"Hey, Dave, can you let us out of the booth? Me and Todd are going to go dance." You say it so sweetly, so innocently, and yet Dave's blue eyes go bigger than usual, confused. You continue to move towards him so he and Katie have to get up. 

When you and Todd are out, Dave says something he can't help himself from. 

"Why? Why would you do that?" He knows you don't like Todd, not even really as a friend, why would you ever go dance with him? Todd's face looks at Dave angrily for his comment. 

"Because why not?" You say with a smile and take Todd's arm, leading him more towards the dance floor. Dave is speechless. He sits back down with Katie. 

He has the hardest time keeping his eyes off you and Todd. Katie begins to pick up the conversation from before, but Dave's interest is split. He sees as you rub your body into Todd, Todd at first looking like he might faint, then gripping into your hips and actually helping you! How could he do this to Dave? 

Katie tries to grab Dave's interest again, she was actually having a pretty good time before this. She glances at Erika, who is next to Marty as if to say 'What the hell?' to Dave's reaction. Erika shrugs and now Marty is trying to invest her in a conversation about Star Wars that she's surprisingly not uninterested in. 

"Dave? Do you want to go dance too?" Katie finally asks him, and he has to blink and rethink what she just said to take his attention off of you, where you're grinding your ass into Todd's crotch. 

"What? I mean…" He glances back to where Todd looks like he might just cum in his pants right there and then, and his own anger starts to drift somewhere inside him. He knows he has no right to be angry with you, you're not his girlfriend, and you're way too good for him. But if that's the case then why the fuck are you dancing with Todd? 

Dave looks back into Katie's eyes and nods, his brow furrowed. 

"Actually, I'd love to dance, Katie. Let's go." It's the most confident thing he's spoken all night, and for a moment Katie is wooed by how bad he seems to want to dance with her. 

Dave leaves the booth with Katie and begins to take to the crowd where you and Todd are dancing. He hopes you see him as he puts his hands on Katie's waist, not quite bold enough to dance as provocatively as you are, or sure of if Katie would enough that. 

You're still dancing to the pre-concert music, your eyes closed and feeling weirdly excited that Todd's cock is hard against your ass. You never really wanted to talk to him since he's such a geek and way too much of a loser, but he isn't ugly. No, you always thought it was strange how Todd was actually pretty good-looking, but his personality was never really your cup of tea. It doesn't matter much anyways, you're doing this to make Dave jealous. Speaking of, where was he?

You open up your eyes and spot the seated Erika and Marty with no Dave insight. You scan the crowd immediately, and your eyes land on Dave and Katie dancing, your jaw tightening. Did he really wanna play this game with you? For some reason, tonight you're feeling like you'd risk it all to make a point. You watch Dave until his eyes catch back to you, and you hold his gaze while you bend all the way down and show Todd your ass. You're surprised that some of the crowd goers are even watching, a few cheering when you do your filthiest moves. You can see as Dave's mouth falls open for a moment, and you can't help but smirk. You wonder if that's what set him off because suddenly he's leaning in towards Katie, and it looks like he's going to kiss her. 

You could scream, the only blessing being that if he did kiss her, you missed it as the crowd gets more encircled where you and Todd still dance. You can't see Dave, but you hope he can see you. You flip around and face Todd, where he's totally head over heels for the whole experience. He has a totally goofy grin on his face, and he looks you in the eyes and does something you're surprised by. He brings you in and crushes his lips against yours. 

Now, you know you could have done it to him, as revenge for Dave kissing Katie, but something had stopped you. You're not sure if it's because the switch that made you attracted to Todd hadn't flipped or something else, but when he kisses you, you can't seem to find it unpleasant. In fact, you close your eyes and lean into the kiss. 

You've kissed a few of the few boys at school you every so often found some fun in, but Todd is actually a pretty good kisser in comparison to anyone else you've kissed. You feel like your lips are tingling when they're pressed to his, and somehow your hands are up and twisted in his messy mousy curls. You can almost hear Todd moan if it wasn't for how loud the music was. As you pull away, Todd only becomes more eager for you, kissing down your neck, somehow hitting all the spots that turn you on. You can't help the heat that spreads down your back and between your legs. Maybe you can do something to really get back at Dave, but would it be too much? 

You have no idea if Dave can even see you anymore, but you feel so compelled to drag Todd to the restroom right now. He wouldn't be your first, and your sex drive has never been low. Besides, maybe a good fuck would make this night easier, and make your heart less tender. You know somehow you will regret this later, but here you are, whispering your plan into Todd's ear. He looks at you like he's dreaming, totally into it and dazed by the fact that you actually want to fuck him. It's more of him who's dragging you to the restroom instead of the other way around. 

You quickly find a single-stall bathroom, opening it, and closing it behind you two. Todd already has his hands on you, he wants you so bad. He doesn't even know if he should tell you he has never had sex before, but god he is so lucky that he gets to do it with one of the most popular, sexy girls in school. He is halfway through getting your skirt down when he stops to look you in the eyes, none of this makes sense.

"Are you sure you really want me to…?" He starts, his breath heavy from how much he's been kissing you. You grab him and pull him in. 

"Yes, I know, it's weird for me too how badly I want to fuck your nerdy cock, but can you do me a favor and just bend me over already?" You don't know what's gotten into you, tonight has been so strange, but you oddly feel like it's meant to happen this way. You can't deny how horny you are either. 

Todd doesn't even need to hear anything else, he's ready to take all of your commands. You bend over the sink and look into the mirror with a slightly bitchy smile, and Todd needs to fuck that smug look off your face right now. He drops his jeans and grabs your ass, wrenching your panties down, the moment making him bold. 

His cock is so hard against your ass, and you can't believe he has the audacity to tease it between your ass cheeks. You almost gasp when he does though, surprised at how big he is. You never took him for having that big of a cock, but it's moderately girthy and long. The feeling of it against your bare skin excites you, and you feel his precum painting your ass. You look into the mirror and give him a look that lets him know you're done being played with, you need his cock right now. He obliges happily, spreading your legs and lining himself up, wetting the tip of his cock with your own wetness. 

You jump from how quickly he slams into you, not expecting this energy from such a dork. You gasp from the feeling of being so full so quickly and look at Todd, seeing how satisfied he is with your reaction. God, is this nerd really going to fuck you like this? You were used to being more dominant, but you bite your lip and cry out as Todd continues to move inside of you, his cock is just so hard. 

You hope Dave can tell how much you're enjoying this. Something tells you he can feel it, you don't know why, but it's as if you can almost feel your energy centered on sending itself to him. 

Todd lifts your leg up with ease, again surprising you with his strength. He leans that leg onto the sink countertop, and you cannot believe how deep he's getting in your pussy, the feeling making you forget about Dave for the moment. Todd pushes your body until your face is practically against the mirror's glace, your breath making condensation against it. Todd is totally lost in the feeling of your tight pussy, his breath husky and his muscles tight. 

"Fuck….you like this you little whore?" He says, almost to himself, quietly like it's a kink he's not sure he can have with you. For some reason, the fact that this loser had you so vulnerable and was fucking you so hard was turning you on. When he called you a 'little whore' you couldn't help but feel your pussy tremble. 

"Oh yeah?" You say, breathy and looking back at him. "Why don't you tell me how you like fucking this slutty cunt?" 

Todd seems emboldened once again and picks up the pace, his thrusts almost hurting but you find the sensation to be amazing. 

"I can't believe you're such a filthy girl that you'd let a loser like me fuck you without a condom." He almost growls out, and you remember that you in fact did forget to use protection. The thought sends a mixture of fear and pleasure through your body. The idea of how dangerous this is somehow makes it better. God, what is with you tonight, you never thought of yourself as someone who would do something like this.

Todd continues you fuck you, and you can clearly feel him getting closer. You decide you do something before he fills you up with his cum. You pull back from him, and he looks confused for a moment before you turn around and drop to your knees. He down at you with a lazy, lust-filled grin like he's won the lottery. 

"Oh my god…" He whispers out, looking down as you look back up at him and take hold of his cock. 

You stroke him gently, placing your perfect lips around it and tasting yourself. You reach down to your own clit between your legs, your knees on the dirty bathroom floor. You can't believe what such a slut you were being, but it didn't matter. What mattered was getting Todd's cock down your throat in a way that turns you on. 

You feel Todd placing a hand on the back of your head as you get into the rhythm of it. You glance up and see how much he's enjoying it, as well as a look on his face that tells you you're never going to live down letting him fuck you. You can also tell by how he starts fucking your face like he's been waiting for this, likely dreaming about the chance to get in your pants. And now he's a bit smug about it, sending his hips thrusting deeply til you're practically choking on it. Something about that makes your pussy clench as you rub tight and fast little circles on your clit. You can taste his precum seeping out onto your tongue. He's getting so close. You close your eyes and enjoy him face fucking you, getting lost in how dirty you feel for doing this. 

"Keep those eyes open for me…" He breathes out, half commanding, the other half letting you know that he needs it to cum. He needs to be able to see those pretty eyes while he drains his cock into your mouth. 

You look back up at him, your eyes almost watering from how he's fucking your throat, your breath so hard to keep. Holding it turns you on more, the asphyxiation of it making your brain and pussy go crazy for it. This nerds cock really has you completely dumb for it right now, you feel like such a whore. You keep eye contact with Todd and feel that as you do, you are getting closer yourself. 

You actually have to back off stimulating your clit, so close to the edge that the littlest movements keep bringing you almost there. You can feel your eyebrows worry and as you look up at Todd he is throwing his head back and slamming his cock down your throat, cum drenching the inside of your throat, it's so hot. You let yourself join him as he does, and you cum, your legs tightening so hard you shake. Your moan is muffled and gurgled by his cock in your throat, and you can feel your own eyes close as you get lost in the sensation. You force yourself to swallow even though it's difficult, and Todd slowly comes out of it. 

He looks down at you, his breathing heavy and his eyelids tired. He slowly pulls his cock from your mouth, and it's like a switch flipped. He's leaning down to help you up, even though he feels like a total king for being able to do what he just did. Todd also feels like he needs to take care of you after something like that, he had no idea he would end up being so aggressive. He gently pulls you up and helps you bring your skirt and panties up to cover your dripping pussy.

“I-I, I can’t believe you let me do that…” Todd is trying to keep his hands on you where ever he can, and it’s already irritating you how clingy this nerdy no longer virgin is. You move your hands to keep him off you. 

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal Todd.” You say snarkily, and turn from him when you think you’re finally ready to leave the tiny bathroom. At the very least, your heart feels better. You feel centered, and ready to enact anymore revenge tactics you need to if it will get to Dave. 

“We, we probably should’t tell Dave about this…” Todd mumbles, messing with his curls with anxiety. You turn back for a moment, and smile widely. 

“No! You should tell him, let him know what he’s missing out on.” You can’t help how energized you feel right now, you give Todd a wink and leave the restroom. As you do you think he mumbles something else about Dave actually having feelings for you, as if. If that were true, he wouldn’t have brought Katie fucking Deaxuma here tonight. He would have already confessed his real feelings…right? 

✧✧✧

Dave stopped dancing with Katie when he noticed you and Todd had gone from the crowd. He tried to keep it up with Katie, but his focus was just totally elsewhere. What really surprised him was when Katie actually stood up for how Dave was treating her. She took Dave’s face right in her hands, and looked him in the eye and asked if he was here with you or her tonight. Dave knew the answer in his heart, but his mouth confirmed that he was here for Katie. She seemed satisfied, and took him deeper into the crowd, her body moving against Dave’s in no way a girl ever has. Maybe Dave can get his mind off you and actually enjoy this if he tries. And he does. He really does try to lean into her soft skin, holding onto her hips as they sway to the music. But as time goes on, and you’re out of sight he suddenly feels so strange.

It’s almost as if he can sense you, but he can’t see you. And what he sense right now really doesn’t make any sense to him, but it is making his cock hard right now. Fuck, and now Katie thinks it’s because of her grinding her ass into Dave, not this weird feeling Dave has about you. It’s almost like he can sense your pleasure, like he can feel how good it feels for you. He has no idea that you and Todd are having an excellent time in the restroom right now, but he can feel it so clearly, it’s almost driving him insane mixed with Katie’s grinding. 

Dave can’t help himself, the feeling of pleasure is washing over him in waves. He is already a horny man, it doesn’t help that he has all the friction of his dance partner and this strange connection with you. The weirdest part is he has felt this before, late at night, when he was alone in his bed. He still doesn’t know that the reason he gets so horny at night for you is because you’re likely touching yourself thinking of him in your own bed. The connection is something he has felt for you for so long it is as easy as breathing, he doesn’t even question why he knows where you are, what you’re feeling, and when you touch yourself at night. It actually makes Dave’s brain melt a bit if he thinks too hard about it, he doesn’t really want to admit to how much he feels for you in all these different ways. 

The other pressing matter right now that he feels is Katie’s ass, which he is getting so excited for he could almost ruin his jeans. He prays that he won’t, he couldn’t handle the embarrassment, but as the feeling builds he starts sweating, breathing heavier and heavier, and trying to come up with a game plan for what he’s going to do if he blows his load right here and now. He can hardly think though, it’s so hard when he can feel you coming closer to climax yourself. He can almost see you as he closes his eyes. 

He imagines you right now, on your knees touching yourself, he can see it, I mean really see it. He has no idea who you are with, or if this is even real, but God does it feel real. It feels so real he can imagine you sucking on his own cock, taking it down your pretty little throat and moaning into it from how much you love the feeling. Dave has completely forgotten about Katie, who is oblivious to the fact that her date is caught up in another woman’s pleasure. Dave grips Katie’s hips and imagines it’s your hair, pulling you deeper into his cock, until he can barely fit anymore. He can sense you coming closer and closer now, and his cock is raging against his jeans, ready to explode at any moment. 

That’s when he feels it, so suddenly, you falling over the edge, and his own cock is twitching, leaking out the longest orgasm he has ever had. Dave tries everything in him to not cum right now, but he can’t stop it, it’s happening and now Katie is getting thrust into his cock. He has to hold his breath to not moan out, but here he is cumming in his pants while you have some kind of spell over him here. Katie turns around when she notices how weird Dave is acting, and Dave’s eyes fly open when she yells his name over the music. 

“Dave?” She looks at him confused, the dim lights in the bar are helping the fact that a wet spot is forming on his jeans, and Dave can hardly speak, his mind still stuck with you, in the afterglow. 

“I…I’m sorry Katie, I have to run to the bathroom real quick.” Dave blurts out, and doesn’t really wait for Katie to respond. Katie is left there feeling totally confused, but has no idea what just happened. 

Dave is working his way through the waves of the crowd, which keeps seeming to get thicker and thicker as everyone waits for tonights band, which Dave has zero interest in really, but he knows you are some what obsessed with the boy band. Right now, he isn’t really worried about that however, right now he needs to clean himself up in the bathroom. 

When he reaches one of the single stalls, he is surprised to bump into you, his voice leaving himself, his eyes looking at how your hair is tousseled and your clothes are dishevled. A sinking feeling starts pouring itself right into Dave’s very soul. You look at him with a smirk and leave to go see the band, not even saying a word to Dave. In fact, he can almost feel you roll your eyes at him when your back is turned to him, which hurts more. 

He goes to open the door and finds Todd in the bathroom, trying to fix his own clothes and hair, extremely surprised to see Dave right now. 

“Dave! Hey…hey man, uh, how–” Todd tries to come up with any words that will make this situation less awkward for him right. Dave cuts him off before he can even continue. 

“Please don’t tell me what I think just happened, happened Todd.” Dave’s possessiveness of you can’t help it, he knows you’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, but he needs to know you did not just fuck Todd fucking Haynes. 

“Um…No man, no, she just asked me for some help with something, it’s not…” Todd is struggling to come up with a lie, it’s almost insanely clear, but Dave’s heart can’t take it. He just nods and leaves the restroom, deciding the let his jacket cover up any spot on his jeans by wrapping it around his waist. 

He leaves and begins walking with no real direction when he spots you again. This time you look like some sort of nymph, or succubus, sitting on the edge of the stage, watching the band set up. Dave can see you chatting with the singer, that raccoon looking fuck. The singer looks up and actually locks eyes with Dave as he parts through the crowd towards the two of you, and Dave immediately feels a cold chill run down his spine. This man is bad news, he has to get you away from him, it’s almost instinctual how badly he knows that this man wants to hurt you. Even if you potentially just fucked one of his buddies, the feeling Dave has right now is more urgent than that. 

Dave finally makes it to the stage, and you turn to him, and Dave knows something is wrong. You have this look in your eyes, it’s unnerving how empty you seem. You don’t even really acknowledge Dave, you are so busy trying to get this weird, older singer’s attention. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Dave grabs your arm, trying to get your attention, but the singer steps in, dipping down to speak to Dave since he’s so much taller on the stage. 

“I don’t think it’s any of your business, besides, she was just heading out to grab us some drinks at the bar, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” The man stares at you with a viscous, disgusting grin, and Dave can feel all the anger of the night welling up inside of him. Before Dave can speak, it’s like you’ve been commanded by the man, hoping off the stage and getting ready to go grab drinks. 

“Oh yeah…” You say, your voice totally devoid of real thought, almost drunken already, though Dave is sure you haven’t really had anything to drink tonight, not to mention you’re only 18 anyways. “You just have to try one of these 9/11 tribute shooters, but you gotta drink it fast or else it turns kinda brownish!” 

You giggle as if you’ve told one of the funniest jokes, and before Dave can stop you, you’re slipping through the crowd to go get drinks. Dave is totally lost on what to do, but the band members seem to be going about on their own tangent now, and what Dave catches pisses him off even more. 

“So, Nikolai,” One of the bandmates start speaking to the singer. “Do you really think she’s a virgin? I mean she seems kind of…” 

Dave interrupts, slamming his hand onto the wooden stage, a few people besides Nikolai and the bandmates looking at his outburst. 

“Listen to me you fuck.” Dave has no idea where this spirit is coming from, but he rolls with it. “You bet she is a virgin, and a girl like her would never give it away to a loser like you, not to any kind of fucking loser, so just leave her the fuck alone!’

Dave can feel his face go hot, he knows deep down that after seeing how you were with Todd, you probably aren’t even a virgin, but he is projecting his anger onto the men infront of him. Along with the belief that he is saving you from some scummy 23 year olds who don’t deserve to prey on you at all, he feels righteous in his outburst. His shoulders drop when the bandmates almost laugh at him, then continue to ignore him. God, maybe he really is just a loser who is obsessed with you. He isn’t even supposed to be feeling this strongly about you like this, you’re his best friend, why should he care if you hook up with someone? The pit in his stomach still tells him he should protect you from these men, though. 

After a moment, you’re back with a tray of red, white, and blue drinks, totally oblivious to Dave standing right there, still in that strange state Dave doesn’t know what to do about. He feels so helpless right now it hurts. Dave watches as you climb back on stage and gawk, twirling your hair and biting your lip to talk to Nikolai. 

“I think we should go…” Dave says to you, and you look back at him with the cruelest look you’ve ever given him. 

“Don’t you have a date tonight, Dave? Why don’t you go find Katie…” You completely disregard him, and Dave is devastated. The way you speak to him hurts in a way that he didn’t think you would ever do. Dave is speechless, and Nikolai is taking you now, moving you somewhere backstage. Dave is lost in the crowd, his feet somehow moving him and he finds himself back at the table where Erika and Marty have gotten to know each other, Katie sitting totally lonesome with her cheek on her hand. 

✧✧✧

Dave stopped dancing with Katie when he noticed you and Todd had gone from the crowd. He tried to keep it up with Katie, but his focus was just totally elsewhere. What really surprised him was when Katie actually stood up for how Dave was treating her. She took Dave’s face right in her hands, and looked him in the eye and asked if he was here with you or her tonight. Dave knew the answer in his heart, but his mouth confirmed that he was here for Katie. She seemed satisfied, and took him deeper into the crowd, her body moving against Dave’s in no way a girl ever has. Maybe Dave can get his mind off you and actually enjoy this if he tries. And he does. He really does try to lean into her soft skin, holding onto her hips as they sway to the music. But as time goes on, and you’re out of sight he suddenly feels so strange.

It’s almost as if he can sense you, but he can’t see you. And what he sense right now really doesn’t make any sense to him, but it is making his cock hard right now. Fuck, and now Katie thinks it’s because of her grinding her ass into Dave, not this weird feeling Dave has about you. It’s almost like he can sense your pleasure, like he can feel how good it feels for you. He has no idea that you and Todd are having an excellent time in the restroom right now, but he can feel it so clearly, it’s almost driving him insane mixed with Katie’s grinding. 

Dave can’t help himself, the feeling of pleasure is washing over him in waves. He is already a horny man, it doesn’t help that he has all the friction of his dance partner and this strange connection with you. The weirdest part is he has felt this before, late at night, when he was alone in his bed. He still doesn’t know that the reason he gets so horny at night for you is because you’re likely touching yourself thinking of him in your own bed. The connection is something he has felt for you for so long it is as easy as breathing, he doesn’t even question why he knows where you are, what you’re feeling, and when you touch yourself at night. It actually makes Dave’s brain melt a bit if he thinks too hard about it, he doesn’t really want to admit to how much he feels for you in all these different ways. 

The other pressing matter right now that he feels is Katie’s ass, which he is getting so excited for he could almost ruin his jeans. He prays that he won’t, he couldn’t handle the embarrassment, but as the feeling builds he starts sweating, breathing heavier and heavier, and trying to come up with a game plan for what he’s going to do if he blows his load right here and now. He can hardly think though, it’s so hard when he can feel you coming closer to climax yourself. He can almost see you as he closes his eyes. 

He imagines you right now, on your knees touching yourself, he can see it, I mean really see it. He has no idea who you are with, or if this is even real, but God does it feel real. It feels so real he can imagine you sucking on his own cock, taking it down your pretty little throat and moaning into it from how much you love the feeling. Dave has completely forgotten about Katie, who is oblivious to the fact that her date is caught up in another woman’s pleasure. Dave grips Katie’s hips and imagines it’s your hair, pulling you deeper into his cock, until he can barely fit anymore. He can sense you coming closer and closer now, and his cock is raging against his jeans, ready to explode at any moment. 

That’s when he feels it, so suddenly, you falling over the edge, and his own cock is twitching, leaking out the longest orgasm he has ever had. Dave tries everything in him to not cum right now, but he can’t stop it, it’s happening and now Katie is getting thrust into his cock. He has to hold his breath to not moan out, but here he is cumming in his pants while you have some kind of spell over him here. Katie turns around when she notices how weird Dave is acting, and Dave’s eyes fly open when she yells his name over the music. 

“Dave?” She looks at him confused, the dim lights in the bar are helping the fact that a wet spot is forming on his jeans, and Dave can hardly speak, his mind still stuck with you, in the afterglow. 

“I…I’m sorry Katie, I have to run to the bathroom real quick.” Dave blurts out, and doesn’t really wait for Katie to respond. Katie is left there feeling totally confused, but has no idea what just happened. 

Dave is working his way through the waves of the crowd, which keeps seeming to get thicker and thicker as everyone waits for tonights band, which Dave has zero interest in really, but he knows you are some what obsessed with the boy band. Right now, he isn’t really worried about that however, right now he needs to clean himself up in the bathroom. 

When he reaches one of the single stalls, he is surprised to bump into you, his voice leaving himself, his eyes looking at how your hair is tousseled and your clothes are dishevled. A sinking feeling starts pouring itself right into Dave’s very soul. You look at him with a smirk and leave to go see the band, not even saying a word to Dave. In fact, he can almost feel you roll your eyes at him when your back is turned to him, which hurts more. 

He goes to open the door and finds Todd in the bathroom, trying to fix his own clothes and hair, extremely surprised to see Dave right now. 

“Dave! Hey…hey man, uh, how–” Todd tries to come up with any words that will make this situation less awkward for him right. Dave cuts him off before he can even continue. 

“Please don’t tell me what I think just happened, happened Todd.” Dave’s possessiveness of you can’t help it, he knows you’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, but he needs to know you did not just fuck Todd fucking Haynes. 

“Um…No man, no, she just asked me for some help with something, it’s not…” Todd is struggling to come up with a lie, it’s almost insanely clear, but Dave’s heart can’t take it. He just nods and leaves the restroom, deciding the let his jacket cover up any spot on his jeans by wrapping it around his waist. 

He leaves and begins walking with no real direction when he spots you again. This time you look like some sort of nymph, or succubus, sitting on the edge of the stage, watching the band set up. Dave can see you chatting with the singer, that raccoon looking fuck. The singer looks up and actually locks eyes with Dave as he parts through the crowd towards the two of you, and Dave immediately feels a cold chill run down his spine. This man is bad news, he has to get you away from him, it’s almost instinctual how badly he knows that this man wants to hurt you. Even if you potentially just fucked one of his buddies, the feeling Dave has right now is more urgent than that. 

Dave finally makes it to the stage, and you turn to him, and Dave knows something is wrong. You have this look in your eyes, it’s unnerving how empty you seem. You don’t even really acknowledge Dave, you are so busy trying to get this weird, older singer’s attention. 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Dave grabs your arm, trying to get your attention, but the singer steps in, dipping down to speak to Dave since he’s so much taller on the stage. 

“I don’t think it’s any of your business, besides, she was just heading out to grab us some drinks at the bar, isn’t that right, sweetheart?” The man stares at you with a viscous, disgusting grin, and Dave can feel all the anger of the night welling up inside of him. Before Dave can speak, it’s like you’ve been commanded by the man, hoping off the stage and getting ready to go grab drinks. 

“Oh yeah…” You say, your voice totally devoid of real thought, almost drunken already, though Dave is sure you haven’t really had anything to drink tonight, not to mention you’re only 18 anyways. “You just have to try one of these 9/11 tribute shooters, but you gotta drink it fast or else it turns kinda brownish!” 

You giggle as if you’ve told one of the funniest jokes, and before Dave can stop you, you’re slipping through the crowd to go get drinks. Dave is totally lost on what to do, but the band members seem to be going about on their own tangent now, and what Dave catches pisses him off even more. 

“So, Nikolai,” One of the bandmates start speaking to the singer. “Do you really think she’s a virgin? I mean she seems kind of…” 

Dave interrupts, slamming his hand onto the wooden stage, a few people besides Nikolai and the bandmates looking at his outburst. 

“Listen to me you fuck.” Dave has no idea where this spirit is coming from, but he rolls with it. “You bet she is a virgin, and a girl like her would never give it away to a loser like you, not to any kind of fucking loser, so just leave her the fuck alone!’

Dave can feel his face go hot, he knows deep down that after seeing how you were with Todd, you probably aren’t even a virgin, but he is projecting his anger onto the men infront of him. Along with the belief that he is saving you from some scummy 23 year olds who don’t deserve to prey on you at all, he feels righteous in his outburst. His shoulders drop when the bandmates almost laugh at him, then continue to ignore him. God, maybe he really is just a loser who is obsessed with you. He isn’t even supposed to be feeling this strongly about you like this, you’re his best friend, why should he care if you hook up with someone? The pit in his stomach still tells him he should protect you from these men, though. 

After a moment, you’re back with a tray of red, white, and blue drinks, totally oblivious to Dave standing right there, still in that strange state Dave doesn’t know what to do about. He feels so helpless right now it hurts. Dave watches as you climb back on stage and gawk, twirling your hair and biting your lip to talk to Nikolai. 

“I think we should go…” Dave says to you, and you look back at him with the cruelest look you’ve ever given him. 

“Don’t you have a date tonight, Dave? Why don’t you go find Katie…” You completely disregard him, and Dave is devastated. The way you speak to him hurts in a way that he didn’t think you would ever do. Dave is speechless, and Nikolai is taking you now, moving you somewhere backstage. Dave is lost in the crowd, his feet somehow moving him and he finds himself back at the table where Erika and Marty have gotten to know each other, Katie sitting totally lonesome with her cheek on her hand. 

✧✧✧

You have no idea how you got to the back of stage, but here you are, doing rounds of shots with Nikolai, the lead singer of Low Shoulder. The whole in the very center of your being where jealousy and Dave usually housed was fading away after each drink and giggle you had with the band. You feel totally out of it, somehow only a few drinks have you feeling drunker than ever. Everytime Nikolai catches your eyes, the way he looks so deeply into them makes it feel like he is the only man in the whole world. You feel almost proud of yourself for keeping up with these older boys, you don’t feel like they are treating you like a child for still being highschool at all, in fact you feel like they are totally into you. You feel so popular right now, it makes you ecstatic. Dave slowly keeps slipping your mind, more and more. You keep talking with the band, until they finally tell you they have to go on and perform, but you’re their special girl for the night so you can stand off to the side, backstage if you will, and watch where no one else can. The thought sends you over the moon happy, you feel so inclined to do whatever Nikolai says that you can’t do anything else even if you wanted to. 

The band leaves and begins playing, the crowd excited and ready for some real live music after all the recorded ones. You spot Dave and Katie in the crowd for a moment, Dave’s eyes on you, and you surprisingly feel nothing at the sight. Why would you when Nikolai is standing there, so completely better than anyone in this room. You can practically feel the hearts lasering out of your eyes at him, you vision feels like a vignette around him, he seems so bright, you are simply a moth to the flame that is a dirty 20 something boy. The idea that this makes no sense doesn’t even come to your mind at this point. They just continue to play on, their song singing of a lost friendship, and you are sure that Dave’s eyes are boring down on you, that’s the one thing you can feel, that grounds you. 

It isn’t enough though, you are so entranced by the band that you don’t even smell the smoke. The flames are practically licking at your back like the devil himself is trying to get a taste of your tender flesh before you notice. And when you do, you just stare at those orange flames as they begin taking up the curtain of the stage. The band is now dropping their instruments, and the next thing you feel is Nikolai grabbing your body, pulling you away. The crowd is screaming, the horror is hitting everyone who is trying to claw their way out. You don’t even think your heart is beating faster than normal, this is no normal reaction to such a thing. 

You are pulled from the building, the smoke rising and rising, a few people getting out, but you can tell there are many still stuck inside where the flames are engulfing the structure. You look dazed at it, still being taken farther away from the disaster. 

Just before you are pushed into the bands van, you see Dave, he’s sprinting towards you like his life depends on it. He is screaming your name, reaching out for you. He has soot and dirt on his face, like he had to claw his way out. Katie is trailing behind him, and the sight of her makes that pit open up inside of you again. You turn from them, and allow yourself to be pulled into the van, Dave’s hands hitting the metal side of it, his screaming continuing, he is running after the van as it pulls away. 

The last time you see Dave with your own eyes is through the back window of the van while he desperately tries to keep up.

[absolutebl]

Top 10 Cozy BLs!

Our Dating Sim made me realize we have a new sub genre of BLs happening right now: the cozy BL. 

I decided to invent/identify/name this new BL category because... I can. I crowd sourced (here in the hellhole) opinions of how to define it and what should go on it. The collective brainstormed and elected the following qualifications: 

low angst 

low stakes 

high domesticity 

a central relationship that is more cute than anything else

extra points for found family

AKA BLs that make you feel happy and comfortable. 

These BLs leave you feeling warm and safe, like a hot water bottle. I will list them in order of my personal preference when in the mood for “cozy.”

1. Our Dating Sim 

(Korea, Viki) 

Did I create this list for this show? Yes I did. It defines this category. It is a very low stakes, high domesticity, extremely warm and gentle second chance at love office romance. 

This is a fuzzy blanket of a story that perfectly suited KBL’s short-length tendencies. The pacing is... muuuuuah... chef’s kiss. 

2. Seven Days 

(Japan, grey in 2 parts Seven Days: Monday - Thursday | Seven Days - Friday - Sunday) 

 Popular first year Seiryo has a policy of going out with any girl who asks… for one week. On a lark, third year Yuzuru tests to see if that policy also applies to boys. Seiryo agrees that it does. Along the way they accidentally fall in love. Possibly my favorite BL of all time. It’s very gentle with us and its characters while still having that Japanese emo edge to it. 

A master class in quite yet riveting cinema. 

What, you doubted me? OF COURSE it’s on the list

3. My School President

(Thailand, YouTube)

GMMTV gave us a classic high school set Thai BL with tropes like messy boys singing their feelings that made this one Love Sick for the modern age with all the gentle sweetness and pining ache, but none of the dated damaging tropes or issues. Yes, we’ve seen it all before, but I still ADORED this, and that’s partly what makes it so comforting. Who let my BL be this wholesome and funny? 

4. See You After Quarantine?

(Taiwan, Viki) 

Be you never expected lockdown to be comforting? This under appreciated gem is Taiwan’s answer to Gameboys and is just as charming and adorable yet still as quintessentially Taiwanese as one might hope. It features a Japanese love interest and the cutest most confused disaster gay. Slow burn because the two have almost no actual screen time together and yet manage some truly amazing chemistry plus sweetly caring and earnest. Honestly how does Taiwan do it?

5. Ingredients 

(Thailand, YouTube) 

At the time (during lockdown) many of us referred to this as our “emotional support grocery store advertisement.” If all you want is two soft boys being domestic, cooking together, cuddling on the couch, cat sitting, and babysitting - just put this on and be comfy.

6. What Did You Eat Yesterday?

(Japan, grey) 

Basically the grown up version of Ingredients. Emotionally repressed, grumpy, salary man shows his hair dresser husband his love by cooking amazing meals. That’s it, that’s the whole show. There some queer fam drama, and blood-fam coming out drama, but mostly is husbands cooking and eating together and it’s great. Is it BL? Not really. Do we care? Not really. 

7. The New Employee

(Korea, Viki) 

This one is queer comfort, explicitly. If you aren’t queer you might not find it as warm and engaging. A near pitch perfect office BL with conflict derived from that setting. Also featuring found family and a lesbian bestie. Sweet & innocent (and out) Seung Hyun scores the office internship of his dreams. On his first day at work he gets into it with his cool reserved (and also v gay) boss. 

As you do. 

But things get romantic pretty darn quickly. 

As you gay. 

8. En of Love: Tossera & Future the series

(Thailand, YouTube) 

Tossera = Younger boy wants to court older boy and does and… that’s it. No really that’s the WHOLE STORY. There is actually no angst, drama, or, indeed plot. But are they the softest bois ever to BL as a main couple? Yes, yes they are.

Future is... exactly the same thing. 

Are we mad about it? 

Nope. 

9. Oxygen 

(Thailand, YouTube) 

Softest seme in the universe sings his affection to the older boy at the cafe. Let the slow burn courting commence. Oxygen uses every BL trope in the playbook for one of the gentlest lowest angst BLs ever made. It’s a hyung romance (younger boy courts older boy) but very very earnest about it. Am I biased? Sure. This is probably one of my biggest comfort watches. 

10. Our Dining Table 

(Japan, Gaga)

Lonely salaryman and talented cook gets accidentally adopted by a college kid and his little brother. It’s a quiet cozy little parable of found family alleviating loneliness. Possibly too slow for some but definitely high up there for me with the best of what Japan can do (like Restart After Come Back Home), it’s only flaw (if I dare say such a thing) is that it is not really “romantic.” Lovely & sweet but the romance beats are being used to build a family relationship, not just couple intimacy, it’s OK with me, but not totally BL.

For me one of the hallmarks of cozy BL is that as a chronic rewatcher I find myself starting to rewatch these ones even as they are still airing. Oxygen was an icon of this (also my first watch-along and the reason I realized I really had a passion for BL)

Shorts

Summerdaze - Singapore & Korea, YouTube

The 8.2 Second Rule - Japan, YouTube 

A First Love Story - Korea, YouTube 

Some More - Korea, Gaga 

Quite a few other Strongberry offerings.

More like this?

Top 10 Most Romantic BLs for Valentine’s Day

Top 20 Softest Couples in BL

Top 10 Cutest BLs

Fluffy Sweet Soft Thai BL

10 BLs Best Enjoyed with Hot Tea & a Roaring Fire

MOAR RECS?

From the blog comments. If I agree I gave it a description. 

Boys Lockdown (YouTube) - actually on this list because it go so many votes by everyone else, I haven’t watched it. 

My Ride (GaGa) - Thai BL grew up with this pulp - a truly lovely and special little show featuring the extremely rare pairing of sunshine/sunshine AKA a cinnamon roll couple. Mature explorations of relationships using one of the softest, sweetest and most innocent friends to lovers vehicles. Kindly, overworked doctor meets broken-hearted motorcycle taxi driver in an “other side of the tracks” slow burn romance. The support cast is excellent, making for great friendship groups and family dynamics. With honest queer rep that adds to, but doesn’t impede the story, and genuine conversation about the nature of class, wealth, and classism, not to mention communication, honesty, and respect for boundaries, you can’t go wrong with this show. In other news, I am a sucker for a single dimple. Full review.

Takara-kun to Amagi-kun (Viki & Gaga) - yes, high school angst but so sweet about it. Review here.

2 Moons 3 Ambassador (grey) - I love this odd little pulp, it’s oddly satisfying for all it’s awkward cheese-fest. Maybe that is why I like it. Review here.

21 Days Theory (YouTube) 

About Youth (Gaga) - A truly lovely little coming of age high school BL with a classic YA low drama but high angst and an earnest depth. Full review here.

Ai no Kotodama (Gaga) 

Be Loved In House: I Do (Viki) 

Cherry Blossoms After Winter (Viki warning dub con) - it’s here because a lot of people (like me) love it, but there are objections. Review here.

Cherry Magic (Japan, indie subbed) AKA Doutei dato Mahoutsukai ni narerurashii - the sweetest, fluffiest, most charming bit of adorable ever, full of found family and pastry and serious slapstick, the characters are utter spazzes, but so cute about it. Still that aspect makes me a little tense so I don’t find it as cozy as others do.  

Craving You (Viki) 

Destiny Seeker (grey) - see 2 Moons Ambassador 

DNA Says Love You (Gaga) - particularly the last few episodes. 

La Cuisine (GaGa) - sweet and kind of pure show, and like Thai desserts perhaps requires too much patience for a layperson. Because of the pacing and the focus on the bad girl character, I did dock it. But if you like stuff in the Oxygen vein, then this show is for you, and far better than most Thai BL pulps. That said, I suspect that I enjoyed it more than many would. Full review. 

Meet Me Outside (Gaga) 

Meow Ears Up (Gaga) 

Mr. Heart (Viki) 

Mr. Unlucky has no Choice but to Kiss (Viki) 

Nitiman (Thailand YouTube) - This Thai BL pulp had sympathetic characters, a solid tsundere uke redemption arc, and a fantastic pining seme who yearned without bullying, grooming, or gaslighting. Plus when they were together, they were ridiculously soft. But it also had a realistic portrayal of university life, bisexual awakening, and friendship groups. Ending is okay but a victim of lockdown.

Old Fashion Cupcake (Viki) 

Ocean Likes Me (Viki) 

Roommates of 304 (Viki) 

Wish You (Korea - Netflix or Viki, you want the movie version) AKA Wish You: Your Melody in My Heart - low stakes high pining romance about a pianist who falls in love with a busker who is on his way to being the next big idol.

There was quite a lively discussion coming up with this list, since everyone defines cozy differently but I am not alone in my top 10 choices, these mostly got the most votes. 

(source)

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Age Of Consent [part one]

Summary: Dustin’s older sister thinks Eddie Munson could be a bad influence on her younger brother due to their history. Can he change her mind?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Henderson!Reader

Word Count: 1,166

What you’ll find in this series: big angst, wholesome fluff, sexual content, and a lot of profanity.

A/N: So the first time I posted this it had the ending and the middle in the same draft, so hopefully no one actually read that... This series was titled after the song Age Of Consent by New Order; the main characters in this story are of age and consenting adults.

Read Part Two

“Don’t you think the Weird Al t-shirt is a bit- much?”

“Do I th- absolutely not!” Your little brother replied, looking down at his choice of attire. He also had on a Hawaiian print button-up and a trucker’s hat he got from Science Camp. “This is a great shirt.”

“It’s your social life hanging in the balance.” You reminded him, rolling your eyes.

“You sound just like Steve,” he replied as he began to unbuckle his seat belt. “Just like him.”

Dustin was one of those kids who had to check, and double-check, to make sure that he had everything that he needed before he got out of the car. You could hear him quietly mumbling to himself as he checked his pockets, “lunch money, batteries, number 2 pencil.”

“You got a life in there somewhere?” You asked sarcastically as he rummaged through his backpack. “Come on, you’re going to make me late for work.”

“Alright, alright!”

“All jokes aside,” you mentioned as he opened the passenger side door. “I hope you have a great first day. I’ll see you at home.”

Dustin nodded and headed towards the double doors of Hawkins High, his first day as a freshman. You had to admit that you were worried about him, you couldn’t help it. High school was a completely different experience- it wasn’t just the same middle school bullies anymore. Kids were mean, you remembered what it was like.

Your little brother usually biked to school, but you promised him that for his first day of freshman year you’d drive him. You hadn’t been back to Hawkins High since you graduated- for good reason. The sickening nostalgia of the high pony-tails and the sea of green and gold was enough to make you regret your decision to drop Dustin off. You had repressed those memories for a reason, and still, you at least waited for him to get inside before you finally decided to drive away.

When you got home from work, your mother was just finishing up with dinner and Dustin was finishing up his homework at the table.

“Hey mom,” you called to your mother who smiled at you over her shoulder as she pulled whatever it was she was cooking out of the oven. “You got something on your-” you pointed at Dustin’s shirt. He fell for it, allowing you to flick his nose when he looked down. “Nerd. How was your first day?”

You pulled your bag off of your shoulder and dropped it in an empty chair before grabbing the silverware to begin setting the table.

“I was asked to join a D&D club, so I would say today was a total success.” His words made you freeze. “They call it the Hellfire Club.” Dustin said proudly. “Look, I even got this awesome t-shirt.”

Dustin pulled the familiar t-shirt out of his backpack and unfolded it with a wide grin, yet, the sight of it made your stomach drop.

“You’re in Hellfire?” You asked him as you placed the napkins in the center of the table. “Of course you’re in Hellfire.”

He nodded his head with a toothy grin. “You know it?”

“I’ve heard of it.” You shrugged.

“Eddie, the Dungeon Master, is so cool, Y/N, you have to meet him.”

“Eddie Munson?” You asked, trying to wrap your head around it all. Dustin nodded again.

You couldn’t believe that Eddie was still even in school. You figured that he would have dropped out eventually. He had to be at least twenty years old by now, still preying on the societal outcasts of Hawkins High to join his little cult- he was always determined to make it his legacy.

Four years of drama club meant four years of sharing the same classroom with Hellfire. You had spent countless long nights building and painting sets and sewing costumes while Eddie Munson and his misfits journeyed their way through campaign after campaign. Eventually, the two of you became friends. There were nights where he’d even linger; helping you paint or just making sure that you weren’t there alone.

Among other things.

“Earth to Y/N?” Dustin was waving a hand in front of your face. “Can you please pass the potatoes?”

“Sorry,” you muttered and handed him the bowl.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” Your mother asked, concerned. Dustin was staring a hole through you, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head trying to figure you out.

“"Y-yeah,” you lied. “Totally cool.”

You shoved a bite of mashed potatoes in your mouth to try and hide your fib. Dustin shook his head and went back to talking about the teachers that he had this year and weird it was not seeing Will at school this year. You inevitably tuned him out, your mind reverting back to your memories of Eddie Munson.

Dustin didn’t know about your history with the metalhead and you couldn’t have been more thankful. You didn’t want him to make a big deal out of it, which you knew he would have. However, you did wonder if Eddie targeted him because he somehow knew that Dustin was your little brother.

It’s not like it would have been hard for him to figure it out.

“Dustin?” You were both standing at the kitchen sink now, you were washing and he was drying the dishes. You turned to him, fingertips slightly submerged in the hot water still. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be in this club.”

“Why?” He asked, clearly upset. “It’s just D&D.”

“It’s not just D&D,” you replied and dried your hands on the washcloth that he was holding. “It’s more than that. These guys are older and- well, they can be very impressionable on young minds.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dustin fought. “You’re just jealous because I’m actually making friends in high school and you never did.”

“Ouch,” you placed your hand over your heart and your brother sighed.

“That was mean, I’m sorry.” You nodded in response, but in the same breath, he continued with, “I just think you’re being a little dramatic. If you would just come to one campaign and meet Eddie, I think you would change your mind.”

You hadn’t seen Eddie Munson in two years. The last time being the day that you graduated; the day that you tried so desperately to forget about. Sometimes you thought you’d caught a glimpse of him turning a corner, or maybe saw his van parked outside the record store on the way to work.

So maybe it was possible, in the last two years, that the guy had changed. You didn’t want to rob Dustin of a chance to make some friends in high school or make things worse for him.

You knew this was a terrible idea.

“Fine,” you sighed.

Dustin almost jumped for joy and threw his arms around your middle. “I promise you’re going to love him!”

Yes, that was precisely the problem.

[anki-of-beleriand]

Dirty little secret

Summary: You were Wanda's dirty little secret.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Powers!! Feamle Reader - Wanda Mazimoff x Vision

Warnings: Cheating, mentions of sex, angst, drama, internalize homophobia, mentions, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts.

Author's note: This has been bothering me for quite some time and I just have to put it out there. This was supposed to be the prelude for a story I'm working on that it's going to be...pure angst . So hope you like it.

Please remember English is not my mother tongue so forgive the grammar, spelling and funny mistakes. Enjoy the reading!

Part of the series - A Heart Made of Glass

Dirty little secret

Your world stopped for a moment.

The people around you became blurry images of reality while their words became lousy and meaningless in your ears. You weren’t supposed to see those images, it was an accident; you had come here laughing and joking with Clint, Tony and Natasha betting over who had eaten the last of the peanut butter and jam.

Of course, what better proof that the footage Friday had of every single spot in the compound. Which led the four of you to the control room to find the culprit of such a crime.

The footage played, and you weren’t supposed to see any of it.

If things had gone according to her plan, you would have never found out about it until it was probably too late, or she finally got bored of you. Of playing with you. Of you being her dirty little secret. Your limbs were heavy at your side, and your chest was breaking slowly while the air left your lungs.

Your eyes were prickling and soon you discovered the blurry images you were seeing were in fact the result of the tears rolling down your cheeks at the moment.

Everything happened in slow motion, and you couldn’t stop seeing Wanda Maximoff having a very heated make out session with Vision until…the result was obvious. You didn’t need to see anything else, but you stayed and heard as Tony spoke of Vision and his latest adventure with one Wanda Maximoff. How the both of them had been going out and were starting a strange, if nice, relationship.

“Well, strange but I guess Wanda deserves to be happy, and she was looking kinda weird as of late. Glad she found someone to be happy with, right Y/N?” Clint asked innocently enough, you clenched your fists closed lowering your head.

“Yeah, glad to know she is finally happy.” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound the way it did.

Tony and Clint turned to you slightly surprised, but it was Natasha the one who spurred into action by standing behind you her hand tenderly placed on your shoulder.

“Y/N…” She started and you winced jerking away from her touch.

“I need to…I…I gotta go.”

You left and Tony and Clint wouldn’t understand why until it was too late.

Natasha didn’t even wait to give explanations; she followed you without a single thought. The compound was empty that day, it was a nice day without any missions or any important repressed job they needed to fulfill. Wanda had left early in the morning, her excuse had been training with Vision.

“I think it’s the mind stone, you know how my powers come from that stone, perhaps if we get to understand one another…”

Of course, they were understanding one another. They were fucking one another while you waited for her to decide when you two would stop hiding away a relationship that had been happening for more than three years.

“I’m not ready yet, I just…what if they don’t…god, Y/N they are the only family I have left, I can’t risk it them knowing and looking and me, at us differently. Just…more time, please¡ Give more time.”

Time.

That was all you had given ever since the both of you kissed for the very first time. You thought you had touched the sky that day, you and Wanda had been dancing around one another for so long that when it finally happened you couldn’t help but be excited. You should have known that very moment that something was wrong. She asked for that to be kept a secret, she wanted you and her to just wait before telling the others.

“I want us to be us for a little while before everyone decides to come and chime in and just tell us what to do or what not to do.”

And you thought it made sense, once they found out you two were in a relationship you knew Tony and Steve would come forth and set the rules so you wouldn’t be a distraction to one another. And that was okay, you wanted Wanda all for yourself for a little while; it was exciting to just play around with her.

The secret smiles, the stolen kisses, the nights filled with passion…

Everything was magical until it was not.

Until the secret extended and soon Wanda was starting to go out with Vision or pretend, she was into guys. Until she kept telling you she was not ready, that liking women was not something she was supposed to do, that she was supposed to feel…

She always needed time.

She always knew how to get that time out of you.

“Y/N, wait…”

Natasha stopped startled when you turned to her and your eyes were completely black, the shadows you had always manipulated shivering around you. You straightened up changing your whole posture, but even if you were trying to hide it away Natasha could see the pain. She could see your broken heart.

“Not now, Natasha. Of all the people…” You said and your voice sent a shiver down her back. “Just…time. Give me time.”

Natasha nodded, you turned around and left.

The compound felt heavy with regret, Natasha knew that there would be a disaster and she wasn’t sure how to stop it.

*****

It was late already.

You knew everyone was probably up in the common room watching movies, but you weren’t there. You were waiting, and waiting and waiting until, after two or three hours into the movie everyone was watching in group she came.

She was silent, like she always was.

Her lips curling into a single smile, a real one.

Her heart pounding hard against her ribcage because she hadn’t seen you all day, and she had missed you. She missed your warmth, your smile…your kisses.

The moment she crossed the door she knew something was wrong. Everything was in darkness, but she could make out your figure standing by the window thanks to the light of the moon and the lamps right outside the room.

Wanda didn’t care for darkness, usually whatever the both of you shared was done in the darkness. But that day, it was cold.

“Hey, baby.” She greeted warmly, standing closer until something wrapped around her feet and wrist stopping her from moving further into the room. “Y/N?”

You clenched your jaw turning to face her. Now, Wanda knew something was wrong, your eyes had lost all light in them, and it was quite evident you had cried. Wanda struggled against the shadows holding her back, but it was to not vail, you had her tight in your grip.

“Y/N, what is it?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me, Little Witch?” Your nickname for her was spat out with anger, Wanda winced shaking her head for a moment.

“I don’t know…what is it? What’s going on?” She asked again, this time around her mind going over all the things that might have put you in this mood.

“Three years Wanda.”

Wanda made a face, now she knew what kind of conversation the both of you would have that day. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that, the old fear and resentment usually spurred at the moment you tried to mention your relationship with her and the secret status you two had maintained during these years. Wanda enjoyed the fact you were hers in the secrecy of her room, or yours, she didn’t understand your need for everyone to know about it.

No one would understand, women weren’t supposed to fall in love with other women.

Wanda was not like that, either way.

She only liked you; she was only in love with you.

“I’ve been a secret for three years, and I have given you everything I am, everything I have.” You said softly, coldly thanking the gods your voice didn’t quiver as you spoke. “I waited patiently because I believe you will come around…that some day you would finally tell me we could stop hiding like criminals.”

“Y/N, it’s not like that…” Wanda started but soon shut up when you glared at her, she didn’t even notice your shadows had recede and she was free to move. She just stood there knowing without a single hint of a doubt, the discussion that day would be different.

“I got a  ring, and I was…” Here Wanda opened her eyes, her heart jumping with joy and pain at the same time.

“We can’t…” She started and fear gripped her heart at the thought of you proposing, of everyone finding out about the both of you.

“Of course, we can’t!” You didn’t even raise your voice, but the exclamation was enough to make her jumped.

“Of course, you don’t want.” You clenched your jaw stepping closer to Wanda. “I was ready to give you everything, Wanda. Everything you ask of me I gave you, everything you may need or want, I was so ready…you were my world.”

You hated that by then you did break in front of her, two heavy tears fell and this time around the fear Wanda felt was different. This time around she felt as if she was losing you, but that was not possible. Whenever the both of you had the same discussion, you always come back, you were always right there with her giving her more time.

“I loved you like I…” You looked away. “It’s over, Wanda.”

“What? No, baby…Y/N…” Wanda tried to approach you but you stepped back shaking your head.

“I fucking hate you.” You spat out hoping your words would hurt her half the way she hurt you.

Wanda winced at the venom in your tone, tears formed in her eyes and you smirked though it never reached your eyes. You loved Wanda, you really loved her more than life itself, and you were so ready to give her the world. Not only did you have the ring, but also the suburbs home she always wanted, and the retirement plan.

You had your life set up to make her happy.

To give her the family she always wanted.

“Y/N…”

“Friday, please play the video.” You said before moving past Wanda, the young with was about to say something when she recognized the scene.

It was her with Vision. Kissing, undressing…

She paled at the images, you chuckled darkly.

“The funny thing is, I always make sure that Friday erased the footage of you and me so no one would find out before you were ready to tell them.” You snorted shaking your head before leaving the room closing your door with a bang.

Things would have gone quite nicely if it wasn’t for the fact she followed you.

She was crying, and her perfect world was crumbling by the time she reached out to you.

“Please, hear me out…” She started holding herself back from jumping in your arms, to ask for forgiveness to explain herself to you.

“Shut up. SHUT UP!” You finally screamed as the frustration, the pain and the desperation finally caught up to you.

Wanda winced and your scream had alert everyone that was coming out from the common room.

“Guys, what’s going on?” Clint asked, you tilted your head smiling nastily at Wanda.

“Please, Y/N can we talk…” She started, you spread your arms daring her with a single glance.

“Let’s talk then.” You said your lips crooking up a bitter smile, though a glimpse of hope grew in your chest. What if she finally admitted it in front of them? What if she confessed?

“Can we talk in private…” Wanda winced when you let out a bitter laugh.

“Of course… in private, like you and Vision?”

This time around Vision came forth furrowing his brows in confusion, Wanda looked away putting her arms around herself. Whatever control she had of the situation before was slowly slipping away from her, and all because of the footage. God, why was she so stupid? Why couldn’t she say something? Anything.

“Say it in here, Wanda.” You said coldly, Wanda backed away and the rest of the Avengers were glancing from you to Wanda and back, like a tennis match.

“Y/N…”

“SAY IT!”

“Now, Y/N, let us not be…” Vision started and you couldn’t help the surge of power coming from you directed towards him.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Vision! Shut up!”

At that moment several things happened, you directed a wave of shadows towards him and Wanda spurred into action having seen you lose control at that point. Her wisp of red magic came into contact with you sending you backwards until you hit the wall, you fell down watching as she stood between you and Vision.

She had her eyes wide open shaking her head, she hadn’t mean for this to happen. It wasn’t Vision the one she wanted to protect….you…

You stood up and it wasn’t until then Wanda realized what she had done.

What she had lost.

Your face broke into a rictus of pain, your heart broke and without even looking back you disappeared in a wave of shadows. Wanda would forever kept her secret, and you would suffer in silence while trying to forget how you were nothing more than shadows in her life

_____________________________________________________________

The city was quite lousy and noisy.

You stood by the window, still getting used to the life of a freelancer.

The door opened and closed again, you didn’t need to move. You didn’t need to look back, you knew who was there, and you knew who was coming closer to you.

Natasha Romanoff stood beside you watching the city from your window, she passed you over a glass filled with bourbon that you took with a smirk.

“How did you find me?” You asked taking a sip from the glass.

“You’re not that difficult to figure out, and I found your note.” You chuckled letting her wrap her arms around you, a sob escaped your lips and she knew you were hurting still. That your heart had been broken in so many pieces that you hadn’t been able to stand up again without going back to the ground.

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” Natasha whispered hating what your relationship with Wanda had done to you.

She was tempted to tell you how Wanda had not left her room since you disappeared, that the little witch had been crying to sleep unable to do anything at all.  It wouldn’t do any good, anyway. Even after all of this, she didn’t even dare to say her pain was due to the fact she had fallen in love with you, that you meant the world to her but were too afraid to admit it.

“Tony suspects something, and he wants to meet you.” Natasha mumbled in your ear later on, after you had woken up from your mandatory nap.

“Where?”

“He has an event in Germany next week.” Natasha caressed your hair wishing there was something else she could do to ease your pain.

“Should I go?”

“It is up to you, Y/N.” Natasha would no say anything else, but she knew in a week’s time you would be there in front of Tony explaining everything.

And you did.

A week later you and Tony were looking at one another, the older man took a single glance at you before he too wrapped his arms around you. You were like the little sister he never had.

“I’m sorry you have to go through this, kiddo.”

You smirked shrugging, “I…I guess…”

You wanted to ask about her, about Vision and what had happened since you left. Tony shook his head, and you knew you were better off without knowing anything at all.

“You’re like a brother to me, Tony, and I just…I couldn’t disappear completely without letting you know I’m not going back.”

Tony furrowed his brows shaking his head, “You’re a hero, Y/N, you cannot give it up just because Wa…”

“Don’t. Please.” You warned the other man. “I won’t stop being a hero, Tony. But I won’t be an Avenger anymore.”

Tony clenched his jaw wishing, much like Natasha, that he would have intervened earlier. You put your cell phone out leaving it on his desk.

“I just can’t, not with you guys.” You finally mumbled stepping back.

“I understand. Cap is going to keep looking for you, better keep low for a time.”

“Thank you.” You mumbled but the older man shrugged.

“You will need a job, and I happen to have the perfect one for you.” Tony smiled at you; you perked up at this quite shocked that he still wanted to help you even though you were giving your back to the Avengers.

“I…Thank you.” You wrapped your arms around him, and he returned the hug whispering the instructions in your ear.

A week later you had a new mobile with his and Natasha’s phone number. Money and a couple of addresses you could use.

You were ready to disappear.

You never stopped being a hero, but you couldn’t go back to the compound. To Wanda.

Your heart and your soul had been broken that day; you had been her dirty little secret up to the very end. And she would never know how much you suffered, how many nights you spent crying for her, or how many days you thought of…ending everything.

She would never know.

And you disappeared because, at the end of the day you had been nothing more than a secret, living in the shadows.

It wouldn’t be until later, almost ten years later, that your paths would cross again, but that was another story.

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

Hot Take: Luz’s arc in S3 would have worked better if she started drawing parallels to and questioning her actions in reference to CALEB, not Belos. She left her mom because she didn’t fit in and wanted more in life, like Caleb left Philip behind, and she sees her current actions as unintentionally harming those she cares about, just as Caleb’s decision hurt Philip and his attempts at calming Pip down and preventing him from hurting Evelyn only caused Caleb’s own demise, Evelyn’s grieving, their child to have no father, and Philip’s further descent into madness. We’d have much needed insight into the backstory and internal conflict that actually makes a bit more sense? And perhaps some sympathetic insight into Belos on Luz’s end, as she’d recognize Belos’ less than ideal upbringing???

Totally with you there, anon. Luz just spent most of season 3 angsting over "helping" Belos when narratively, this does nothing for her character and her friends end up supporting her because they have done nothing but support her.

Camila acknowledged her mistakes as a parent but Luz never really owns up to hers this season. Luz's arc in the last season is to be depressed about helping the evil tyrant, have her friends try to get her out of her rut (one of whom was just possessed by his abusive uncle and he has to emotionally support her), talk to her mom and learn how it's ok to make mistakes, her palisman hatches because she wants to be "understood" even though this hasn't really been a concern of hers in a whole season, have a nightmare sequence about her friends blaming her again for helping Belos even though we just resolved this and the nightmare isn't even broken by a deep character revelation, she helps rehabilitate the Collector, dies, comes back with Titan powers, and defeats Belos.

So instead of bringing the Luz/Philip/Caleb parallels to the forefront as they were doing a whole season and for the first two episodes of season 3, the show dumps all of that and adds in unnecessary drama that has no narrative tension and is resolved with pep talk, and basically turns her into the hero of her fantasy stories.

We could have had a real character moment for Luz as she realizes her past wrongs and confronts Belos that she really isn't like him--not because he's evil and she's good but because they both had similar goals and desires but she realized that her desires were selfish and harmful and grew as a person because of it, while he clung onto his desires and beliefs and destroyed himself and nearly everyone else in the process.

We could have had more on Belos' thought process instead of "lol, he's just evil!" and how it was a perfect storm of factors that made Belos. Perhaps we could have had Belos realize all this since they seemed to suggest his repressed guilt in "For the Future."

We could have had it all.

[prfctparis]

I’d Give You My Lungs So You Could Breathe (I’ve Got You, Brother) CH4

AO3 Link / One / Prev / Next / Masterlist

summary:

Danny Fenton was adopted at age ten, with little to no memories about his former family. At age fourteen, he died yet lived and those memories began to return. He didn’t do anything about those memories – didn’t plan to, at least not yet – but then he got captured by the GIW, saved by his friends and someone who might be his sister who he only somewhat remembered, and taken to Gotham to, apparently, his biological father for safety until further notice.

Team Phantom was there, too, and they did not sign up for this family drama.

a/n:

i am so sorry for such the long wait!! but here’s ch4 finally lmao hope you guys enjoy :)

warnings for entire fic:

canon-typical violence of the DC variety; angst; memory loss/repressed memories; do i need to say major character death(s) or is that just a given for this fandom; questionable parenting tho every parent is trying to do good & care for the kids; implied/referenced past child abuse bc of the child assassin backgrounds; pls tell me if i missed something

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: Alfred tells Bruce of Danny’s injuries, but nothing in explicit detail

CHAPTER FOUR —

Tonight did not go the way Bruce thought it would.

The day started out peaceful enough. For his family, that was. Tim had stayed the night after patrol rather than heading back to his place in the city, so he and Damian, both half asleep still, had gotten into a snarky quarrel about cereal bowls, of all things. Apparently there was favorite bowl; it was the perfect size and depth. Damian woke up first, grabbed it, and Tim became grouchy when he discovered that.

Bruce had then taken the bowl away when they wouldn’t stop arguing about it, handed it to Duke who had entered the kitchen at that exact moment, and continued on to get a plate of French toast that Alfred had made and a large mug of coffee. He dutifully ignored his sons’ complaints while his other son just went along with what had just happened.

Then Alfred took Duke and Damian to school, Stephanie appeared out of nowhere to drag Tim into helping her study for college finals that were coming up, and Cass regularly sent him pictures of Hong Kong as a means to let him know every thing was going smoothly for the case that had lead her back over there. Bruce called Dick during his lunch hour at WE, tried to get out of an afternoon meeting only for Lucious and Tim (who was now only a partial shareholder instead of the majority shareholder, since that went back to Bruce) to drag him to it anyway, and told Jason that he might have found something to aid him in one of his cases through e-mail because, once again, Jason had blocked his number.

Bruce had no idea what warranted it this time, and he was hesitant to ask.

All in all, it was a normal day. He might even describe it as a good day. So, of course, he expected patrol to be hell. Maybe a breakout of some sort; an intense hostage situation; one of his children getting majorly injured again; a near death experience or two. Possibly more than one of those, or even all of them. That was what Bruce Wayne – Batman – expected.

Not this.

Not Damian having two secret, older, biological siblings.

Not a group of kids in their late teens obviously on the run, brave faced but scared.

Not a daughter finding him on a random roof on the verge of a panic attack, brave façade crumbling with the fear her brothers weren’t okay.

Not a son no older than eighteen having been vivisected by someone Bruce has yet to find out, and warranting Alfred to perform emergency surgery on him.

After Damian, Bruce swore he was done. No more kids for him; the children and pseudo-children he had were enough. The amount of love he had for them was immeasurable, and with them – because of them – Bruce had a mountain of happiness in his life among all the other shitty and dark valleys of depression and torment.

Now he’s learned Talia had lied yet again.

First, about having a miscarriage back when she had been pregnant with Damian. Second, about how before that, from their first meeting five years prior, she already had twins.

His twins.

Damian had also lied, yet he had been told to do so and promised to by his older sister herself. And he had no idea why.

It occurred to him, then, that Jason knew as well. He recognized Damian’s sister on the roof.

It hurt to know that they knew yet didn’t tell him. Everything about the current situation hurt, if he was to be honest.

“My name is Athanasia al Ghul,” Bruce’s daughter, introduced herself as he helped clean, re-bandage, and stitch her injuries. “My twin– our brother… He was born Dányál al Ghul, but he got adopted when he was ten. Legally, his name is now Daniel Fenton. He goes by Danny most of the time.”

It was surreal. Bruce had to keep himself from questioning her until he got answers – about her, Danny, why Talia never mentioned either of them, why Athanasia told Damian to keep them a secret, what and who they were running from and why, and tens of others. It wasn’t hard to do, but the urge was still there.

Making sure his daughter (he had another daughter) got some much needed medical attention took precedence over that.

For now, he would merely let her speak to him on her own terms.

“Do you have a preferred name you go by?” Bruce asked, because his eldest went by ‘Dick’ and Tim hated it when ‘Timothy’ was used and Steph only let ‘Stephanie’ slide if the person was a stranger and Cass didn’t care one way or another, but she did seem to like when the family used the shortened version of her name more. If Athanasia wanted a specific name or nickname used, he planned to use it.

“My brothers called me ‘Ana’ sometimes,” she said. “Hardly anyone else calls me that, but I won’t mind you do, too.”

Bruce nodded and smiled. He finished bandaging the newly stitched up cut on her thigh as he said, “I will be sure to remember that, then.”

“I still will if you want me to,” Damian spoke up immediately from the other cot he sat on. His foot was propped up and an ice pack laid on his ankle, curtesy of Duke who had brought it over a few minutes ago; he seemed to want to stay, but got dragged away by Jason almost immediately.

What his youngest said took Bruce by surprise. Damian wasn’t the type to use nicknames or shortened versions of names; the exceptions were probably Jon Kent and Maps Mizoguchi. And, now, apparently the twins.

And he offered to.

One corner of her mouth twitched up before she smothered it, going for a neutral expression. Bruce still saw something akin to happiness and relief in her eyes as she nodded. “I wouldn’t mind that at all,” she said, “As long as I can still call you ‘Dames’.”

Damian pressed his lips into a thin line to lessen the size of his smile that he then twisted in a faux frown of annoyance. “If you must.”

Bruce refrained from reacting to that. He knew that Tim tried to call Damian that once, and his youngest son had a very sudden, negative reaction to it. Tim went to Bruce later that day, guilty and frustrated, because he didn’t mean to upset Damian and now they were at odds again; Bruce only got the story out after a spar.

It certainly made some sense now, why he had reacted like that. And also why he was more tolerant of ‘Dami’ than everyone thought he would originally be, back when Dick first started using it.

…A lot of things about Damian made sense now.

Bruce wondered often about how Damian, an apparent only child, grew accustomed to older brothers and a sister rather seamlessly. Well, after he stopped attempting to murder Tim, of course; and after he stopped insisting that he didn’t have siblings, that he was the only blood son and therefore superior than the others.

(He still occasionally pulled the blood son card. More so now to annoy the others, than anything.)

He grew accustomed seamlessly to the others because of Athanasia and Danny. He had always been the youngest. He was used to nagging, protective, annoying older siblings already.

It made Bruce emotional in so many ways.

The next fifteen minutes or so were spent in silence as Bruce finished tending to Athanasia’s wounds. When he got done, he stepped back to give her space as he picked up everything he had used.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked her.

“No,” she said. Athanasia almost sounded confused on why he asked, and Bruce sincerely hoped he imagined it. No one of any age should be confused when asked that. “Thank you, Batman.”

“Of course.”

Footsteps, hesitant and soft, grew close, catching their attentions. The redhead, Wesley ‘Wes’ Weston as he introduced himself as earlier, stopped a few feet away. His posture and the way his hands sat in his pockets said casual, but his muscles were tense and his expression held exhaustion.

“Wesley,” Athanasia said as a greeting.

Wes half smiled. “Hey.”

Bruce frowned a little. “Is everything okay?”

The teenager nodded. “Oh, yeah. Um, the others just want to talk about something as a whole. I came to get Ana.”

Bruce saw Damian straighten just the tiniest bit in his peripheral.

Athanasia began to get out of the cot, but Bruce held out a hand. She froze, so he kept his hand in the air rather than placing it on her shoulder like he was about to. Then, lowered it.

“You need rest. I’m sure the conversation can wait,” Bruce said to them.

Wes shook his head. “It can’t. It’s important.”

“Talking does not require extensive body movement,” Athanasia said. “And I’m sure Wesley is right about the importance. I can rest later.”

“You need rest now.”

Athanasia stared him dead in the eye and got out. She stood in front him, back straight and no sign of discomfort or pain.

She was tall for a girl, he noticed for a second time that night. Maybe a bit taller than Tim, if not the same height, but still shorter than Dick. The way she stood reminded him a lot of Talia, but that defiant look was something Damian definitely learned from her at a young age.

“I’m eighteen – an adult,” she spoke in Arabic, and that fact made his heart hurt. “I know my own limits by now. I will rest later.”

She then pivoted on her feet and walked off. As she passed Wes, she grabbed the sleeve of his shirt to drag him along. Other than a slight noise of surprise at being forcibly turned around in the opposite direction, the boy didn’t seem that fazed.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed behind the cowl at him as Wesley casually grabbed Athanasia’s hand to remove her grip. Her fingers twitched, almost holding his hand instead, before she pulled away and quickened her pace.

‘Acquaintances’ she said.

Damian huffed. “I don’t like him.”

“Hn.”

Alfred stepped halfway out of the curtained off area and requested his presence. A surge of panic washed over him and he walked over, telling Damian to stay put. Whatever Alfred needed, he hoped it was better than all the negative thoughts now plaguing his mind.

+++

Athanasia ached – for multiple reasons.

The soreness and pain was finally, truly settling in post-fight. With the adrenaline gone, and now able to relax with Danny being taken care of, she was way more aware of what hurt and what didn’t, except for the number areas where Batman had to do stitches. She probably should have asked for Tylenol or Ibuprofen. She didn’t.

Then, there was Damian. Her baby brother. She said that he was still short earlier, and he was, but he had also grown so much. Watching him from afar when she visited Gotham kept that fact from settling in until now.

He wasn’t the tiny, baby faced nine year old anymore. His hair used to be medium brown and wavy, but over the past few years it’s gotten a few shades darker and now the strands curled like her own. His limbs were lanky as he began to enter his teenage years, the baby fat was disappearing, and he was much taller than a nine year old. He stood and had the mannerisms and forming attitude of any other 13 year old.

Dányál was whole entirely different type of ache from realizing Damian had grown and the pain of her injuries. It was tangled up in anger and fear. At the GIW and Ra’s, and what they did to him.

She almost felt ten again, following the servant in the shadows to the Lazarus Pits. Except this time, there were no pools of bright green liquid to heal him to assure survival. Just the talented Penny-One, Alfred Pennyworth, the butler of Wayne Manor and doctor of the Batcave and a pseudo grandfather to many.

And her father… He was kind and gentle in a way she hadn’t expected. Yes, Jason said he was a good man, but she honestly never was able to picture it. Batman? The man who took down criminals nightly? Gentle? It was jarring, but not completely unwelcome.

It hurt knowing he was like that, and Mother kept them at the League of Assassins. It hurt that she now knew Jason spoke the truth, and Mother knew too, and even after Ra’s ran a sword through her son’s chest, she still kept them there. That she didn’t have her servant take her and Damian, too, and rather acted as if Dányál had truly died.

It hurt because she still didn’t believe it. Obviously he trained with the other members of the family, but all Athanasia was able to picture were the training tactics and punishments of the League. Batman trained with them, years ago, after all. Who’s to say he didn’t use the same ones on his kids?

And then there was Wesley. No one knew about Wesley. Not even the rest of Team Phantom. She even kept herself from thinking about it until the mission of finding and saving her brother was done.

Manson and Foley were the first members of the team she’d met – technically. Wesley Weston wasn’t a member when she first visited Amity Park and met him. They grew close; then Athanasia panicked and ran away left town, only to come back when the GIW took over. She felt bad for leaving him, truly, and she didn’t understand why he didn’t seem to be as angry as she thought he’d be.

There were so many aching emotions within her. It was almost overwhelming. Athanasia wanted to rest; she knew her father was right that she needed to. But they weren’t out of the woods yet. Gray and Wesley needed to get back to Amity Park to get Ellie, and then figure out a way to get to Jazz Fenton, or at least somehow inform her of everything that happened.

They needed to figure out what, exactly, they were going to tell Batman about Dányál and literally everything else.

Athanasia sat down where the others had gathered – far enough away so they wouldn’t be heard, but still seen – and made short eye contact with Wesley when he sat in the only free spot beside her. They both looked away at the same time.

Gray and Manson had their own share of fresh bandages, but hardly the amount Athanasia had. Foley had one. A lucky shuriken cut his bicep and an ectoblast singed the bottom hem of his shirt, but other than that he was fine yet exhausted. Wesley was the only one injury free.

A pack of water bottles sat on the edge of the table. Everyone already had one when she got to the table. Foley was the closest to the pack, and he took one out and rolled it over to her without a word. There was a bottle of migraine medicine by Manson’s elbow where she was laying her head down.

“So,” Gray began to start the conversation. “Batman. I thought you were taking us to your dad?”

“I was, but I knew he would bring us to Batman anyway, so when I spotted him I decided to cut out the middle man.”

“Are you sure we can trust him?” asked Foley.

Athanasia nodded. “As a member of the Justice League, I fully believe Batman is trustworthy.”

“Exactly,” he sighed. “He’s a JL member – a founding member. In hindsight, it’s a good thing they have never visited Amity because that would risk any of them getting possessed, but not one member has checked on our town.”

“Well, actually,” interrupted Gray, “there was that British dude in a trench coat, remember? He smoked a lot. I think he mentioned a…Justice League Dark, or something? It was two or so years ago, so I’m not really sure.”

“Oh him!” Foley started laughing. “Oh, Ancients, how did I forget? Danny scared the shit out of him!”

Manson didn’t move, but she did snort amusedly. “That was hilarious.”

“So… What are we telling Batman?” Wesley asked when the laughter died down.

“Not everything,” said Manson. She finally lifted her head, and placed her hands around her eyes to block out some of the light. “For one, we need to figure out if he knows of the Anti-Ecto Act. We need to explain what’s happening in Amity Park, too. As for everything else… Danny should be the one to explain his powers and everything. Not even Athanasia knows it all.”

It was true. It annoyed her. She knew he had to have gotten the powers somehow, but Danny’s friends were tight lipped about it. All she knew was that Danny had ghost-like abilities, could change his looks, and also had whatever an ‘ice core’ was. She shouldn’t know about that last one, but she overheard Foley and Manson talking one night.

By eavesdropping she had hoped things would begin to make sense regarding her twin’s powers. Rather, it did the exact opposite.

“Batman will dig for answers,” Athanasia warned them. “He’s a detective – a good one, possibly the best in the world.”

Manson frowned.

“Then we give him enough info to keep him happy until Danny wakes up,” Foley said. “Then, he can make the decision on telling Batman everything else.”

“What about the others?” asked Gray. She looked at Athanasia. “Batman, sure. But does that include Robin? I saw you with them both earlier.”

“Robin is as trustworthy as Batman. All of the Bats and Birds in Gotham are, including Nightwing in Blüdhaven.”

“You sound so sure for someone who doesn’t know them personally,” Manson said.

Athanasia raised an eyebrow. “I never said I didn’t.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You never said you did, either.”

“Sam has a point,” Foley said.

“About what?”

“You never said if you did or didn’t know these vigilantes personally. You said you were taking us to your dad, and we’re here instead.”

Athanasia’s brows knitted together. “I said my father would have brought us to him, anyway. Why does that matter?”

“Because you said nothing about him in the first place.”

“Why does that matter?” she repeated. “Where do you think we would end up taking Dányál? Certainly not Arkham.”

“I don’t know, but it would be nice if you told us things,” he said, tone turning frustrated. “Like, who was the old dude you wanted to avoid?”

“That isn’t important right now,” she forced out. She knew she had to tell them about Ra’s, but she planned to do that later.

Manson scoffed as Wesley hesitantly said, “Well, no. It kinda is.”

“You mood completely changed when Tucker mentioned him on comms,” Gray said.

Athanasia drew in a deep breath through her nose. “That is not,” she spoke slow and low, “important right now.”

“Like hell–” Gray began.

“Why does it matter right now?” she stressed. “Can we focus on what is happening right now?”

“Whoever the fuck the old man is who came out of the room where they kept our best friend is isn’t important?” Manson asked incredulously.

“For now, yes!”

“How?! That makes no sense!”

“It really doesn’t make sense,” Wesley agreed, with Gray nodding along in agreement.

“C’mon, Ana, just–”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped at the other boy.

Taken aback, Foley frowned. “But Wes calls you that?”

Athanasia shrugged. “I knew him before you guys,” she admitted after a beat of silence.

His eyes, along with Manson’s and Gray’s, went to Wesley.

“It’s true,” he said with a nod.

Gray leaned her forearms on the table. “So, did you know about the assassin thing?”

“No.” Wesley’s tone wasn’t exactly clipped, but it was clear that he wasn’t happy.

Athanasia held back a grimace.

Gray’s eyes flicked between them, and a spark of realization flashed in her eyes. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ and she nodded slowly. “Well,” she said, somewhat awkwardly, “have fun talking that out.”

She crossed her arms and shifted in her seat. “Can we get back on track? Please.”

“That old guy–”

“Say it one more fucking time, Manson, I swear,” she snapped.

“Or what?”

“I will make that splitting headache of yours literal.”

Someone cleared their throat behind her. Everyone looked in that direction, and Athanasia was mildly surprised to see her father’s most recent foster kid standing there with a silver tray of sandwiches. He wore a t-shirt and basketball shorts and shoes, and had on a the helmet from the Signal suit. She knew he wore a domino mask earlier, so he must have switched one for the other when everyone else was too busy to notice.

“Athanasia, right?”

She nodded. “Yes, that’s me. You’re Signal.”

Signal – or rather, Duke Thomas – nodded as well. “Yep. Hood said you guys might be hungry so he snuck off and made these real quick.” He set the tray on the table.

“Oh,” she said, still a little surprised but pleased, because honestly Jason made some of the best food. “Thank you, Signal.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“Wait, Hood?” Foley choked out. “As in, the Red Hood?”

When she and Signal both nodded, Manson sarcastically said, “Oh, so the one you do know personally is the Ancients-damned crime lord. Great.”

“Why is a crime lord working with Batman?” Gray questioned.

“He’s a Bat,” Signal told her. “And these days, he’s more an anti-hero.”

“Former crime lord, then,” she said. “That’s suspicious.”

“Not if they’re family,” Wesley said

Athanasia looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Signal just stared at him and didn’t make a sound. When he noticed, Wesley shifted in his seat, seeming a bit awkward and uncomfortable from Signal’s stare.

“How do you know that for sure?” she asked him.

Wesley shrugged. “I don’t, it’s one of my theories. I’m not sure if it’s an uncle-nephew thing, a father-son thing, or pseudo family thing, or a brother-brother thing, or what, but I believe it’s something along those lines. Otherwise, why isn’t Batman treating Red Hood like any other criminal, like Bane?”

“Hood is nothing like Bane,” Signal stated. The corners of his mouth had turned down into a frown, and Athanasia noticed the defensive and protective undertone.

Honestly, she almost said the same thing in the same way.

By the way Wesley’s eyes widened, he noticed Signal’s tone, too. He raised his hands. “Hey, man, I didn’t say he was. That’s just the first criminal who came to mind!”

Signal stared at him for another second, visibly unnerving Wesley even more, then finally looked away. “Anyway. Eat the sandwiches if you’re hungry.” Then, almost resigned, “If you need anything, please tell me. I’m stuck babysitting to make sure Robin doesn’t walk on his ankle, and that kid is borderline grumpy on good days.”

Athanasia smirked. “Good luck.”

“Ugh.”

When he walked away, Wesley spoke up again. “My family theory is growing.”

“Please don’t start trying to figure out their identities,” Foley practically begged. “I’d like to stay on their good sides.”

Silence.

Foley sighed.

“Seriously, Wes?” Gray complained.

“We can talk about Wes’ obsession with secret identities later–”

“It’s not an obse–”

Manson cut him off with a glare. “Later,” she emphasized. “Batman. GIW. The assassins. What and how much are we telling him?”

Much to Athanasia’s relief, she didn’t try to bring up Ra’s again to get her to explain. Her shoulders relaxed at that, and conversation finally got back on track.

+++

Much to Bruce’s short lived relief, all Alfred needed him for was to give him an extra set of hands to apply bandages to the teen. They were almost done. It took longer than Bruce liked, simply because he had so many injuries, old and new.

Alfred finished wrapping bandages around the boy’s torso. Gently and carefully, Bruce laid him back down, having been holding him up to make things easier.

He stared down at Danny. Even under anesthesia from surgery and with a safe amount of morphine to ease the pain, his face was still slightly pinched in a way that told them something still hurt. Bruce wished he knew what else he could do to help him. His kid.

Danny and Athanasia, he thought. Another son, another daughter. One who had one giant wound on his chest and other smaller ones littered about, one who had defensive and offensive injuries and bruises.

He almost lost another son tonight. He didn’t know Danny, didn’t even know he existed until a couple of hours ago. It still hurt. Still settled an ache in his heart – for him, Athanasia, Damian, and the other teenagers.

“Whoever did this…” Bruce began, anger seeping into his tone. “Who would vivisect a child?”

“I’m afraid, these days, that list is longer than any of us would like, Master Bruce,” Alfred said.

Bruce pushed back the cowl and rubbed his eyes with his pointer finger and thumb. “This is…” He had no words. With a sigh, he dropped his hand. “How bad is it, really?”

There weren’t many times Bruce could count on his hands where he saw Alfred look so devastated that he was near tears. To see it now, Bruce almost retracted his question.

“He had internal bleeding that I had to stop. Multiple broken ribs. Broken sternum.” Alfred hesitated. “Misplaced organs that I had to put back.”

Bruce shut his eyes, and backed up to fall into the chair behind him. He leaned back, hand over his eyes. “Jesus,” he muttered. “Anything else?”

“Master Bruce–”

“Anything else?” he repeated, firm.

Alfred sighed. “He has bruises and cuts on his wrists – signs of a struggle against cuffs of some sort. Burns from something I am unsure of. His right forearm is fractured; we will have to call Dr. Thompkins to get it properly taken care of. Until then I placed a splint on it. He has other injuries, but those are superficial and nothing to worry about. If he is anything like anyone else in this family, he will make a miraculously full recovery.”

Taking in the information, Bruce rubbed at his temple, then looked back at Danny. He was pale from blood loss, and from where Bruce sat he couldn’t see the splinted arm but he did earlier.

The heart monitor beeped slower than an average human. It set Bruce’s anxiety off, afraid that at any moment it will slow down to a complete stop.

“There is…another thing that has my concerns,” Alfred spoke as he began to clean the area.

“The Lichtenberg figures.”

“Yes.”

Bruce noticed them when he first began helping Alfred. It was hard not to see them. The ones on his back started at the base of his neck and went all the way down his spine. Most branched off into faint, small lines that followed the nervous system of the body, and quickly faded out; a few went up towards his hairline. But there was one figure that branched off, that stayed prominent like the one down his spine; it went across his shoulder blade and down his left arm, not stopping until it reached the palm.

“They are old, from what I can tell,” said Alfred. “A few or so years, perhaps.”

Bruce brows lowered. “Lichtenberg figures disappear after a few days.”

“Not these.”

Bruce sighed.

The Lichtenberg figures. The horror of what happened and who did it. The Lazarus green on both twins, and Danny’s bandages. The secrecy of the twins.

Bruce had so many questions. He needed answers.

“Might I suggest, Master Bruce, that you wait to interrogate the traumatized teenagers?”

He stilled from where he stood back up. “We need answers–”

“And we can get them once everyone is well rested,” said Alfred. “We have no idea how long any of them have been awake, or where they even came from. Ask questions now, and you will have five exhausted and frightened teenagers giving you the hardest time of your life.”

Bruce thought back to when they first got to the Batcave. Of the persistence and stubbornness, and blatant refusal to let the adults take over. He admired their loyalty and want to protect their friend, but he did not want a repeat of that tonight.

“You’re right,” he reluctantly admitted.

“I often am, Master Bruce.”

“Hey.” The curtain moved. Jason poked his head in. “It’s just me,” he announced. “Gave Duke a tray of sandwiches earlier to give the kids. They have water, too. Need me to do anything here?”

Alfred looked down at the bed Danny was on; Bruce did, too. The sheets and mattress were stained from the impromptu surgery.

“A little help cleaning up and moving Master Danny to a new bed will be much appreciated,” said Alfred.

Jason nodded, then backed out with a, “One clean medical cot. Got it.”

That left Bruce and Alfred to continue cleaning everything else. The former tossed away the old bandages, dirtied thread, and alcohol wipes; the latter picked up the medical equipment that had been used and placed them in a plastic tub to be washed and disinfected later. Jason quickly came back in rolling up a clean bed, and they carefully moved Danny from one to the other.

Silence fell as Bruce began to check that the IV was still secure after all of the moving.

“So,” Jason said, Alfred leaving to put everything away, stained bed included. “Danny, huh.”

Bruce hummed.

The quiet turned tense between them.

“Hell, old man, just go ahead and ask.”

With crossed arms, he looked at his second son. “You knew.”

“Not a question, but sure. Whatever.” Jason motioned to Danny. “I didn’t know about him. Hell, I didn’t even know about Damian until he came here.”

His eyes narrowed a little. “But you knew about Athanasia. You recognized her on the roof.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged, carelessly. Like it wasn’t a big deal.

“For how long?”

Jason didn’t immediately answer. “I don’t know, B. I guess I was sixteen?” He crossed his arms, too. “She looked, maybe, a little younger than Damian is now.”

“So you met at the League.”

“Eh, sure… It would be more accurate to say she found me, and randomly appeared like the fucking Ghost Christmas Past or some shit.”

“And you never told me.”

“Jesus. No.”

“Why?”

“No more dead Robins. No more child soldiers. No more kids dealing with your shit,” said Jason. “Take your fucking pick.”

“They aren’t Robins, Jason, and they definitely are not child soldiers because of me,” Bruce snapped. “They are my children, all of you are, and I didn’t force any of you to do what we do. I wouldn’t have forced Athanasia to become a vigilante if she didn’t want to, if she came here with Damian!”

Underneath his domino mask, Bruce knew Jason was glaring at him. “Are you going to hound Damian like this? He didn’t tell you either!”

“Because he made a promise that he wouldn’t! You didn’t! Six years, son–”

“And she’s been visiting Gotham for two!” Jason yelled.

“What do you mean?”

“She already knew you’re her dad; don’t ask me how because I don’t know. But don’t you think she would have come to you if she wanted you to know?”

Bruce faltered for only a second.

It was long enough for a small projectile to hit him in his temple before he could form an actual response to his son. He flinched from the impact but caught it – a rock from somewhere in cave – and heard Jason begin to chuckle before he also got hit in the side of the head with another rock.

Having slipped into the curtained off area while they argued, stood Athanasia. A few more rocks were in one hand and Bruce had no doubt she would throw another one if she felt like she needed (or wanted) to.

Her expression was a guarded.

Jason glared at her. “What the hell–”

“The others want to speak with Batman. In case you forgot because of your aging mind, I didn’t tell them your identity, so I suggest you put the cowl back on before you walk out.” With that, she ducked out, not waiting for either of them to speak.

There was a beat of silence.

“Insulted by a new kid in under two hours,” said Jason. “That has to be a new record.”

“No,” Bruce denied gruffly, “it still goes to you for calling me a ‘big boob’ and hitting me with a tire iron when stealing my tires.”

“I wasn’t your kid then.”

“Hn.”

Jason exasperatedly sighed. “You’re impossible.” He walked out without another word.

Bruce put on the cowl, but didn’t leave until Alfred came back, wary to leave Danny alone. When Alfred assured him that he would alert them if needed, he left and made his way to Athanasia and the other teenagers.

He wasn’t surprised to see Damian already there. Either Athanasia got him or he forced Duke to help him; whatever the case, he and Duke now sat at the table with the others, while Jason stood off to the side against a nearby cave wall. His helmet was back on, and he watched the group with crossed arms.

He pulled up a spare chair and held laced it between Athanasia and Damian. He had barely sat down for longer than a second when the girl who introduced herself as Valerie Gray spoke up.

“We need to leave.”

“No.”

She reeled back, shocked. The others stared at him with either incredulity or anger. Tucker Foley froze with a half eaten sandwich hovering in front of his mouth, and Sam Manson looked ready to argue.

“Um, yes,” Valerie corrected. “You can’t keep us here, we aren’t prisoners. We brought Danny here for medical attention, and now that that’s done, Wes and I need to head back to Amity Park ASAP.”

“I can’t in good conscience let any of you to take another trip somewhere,” Bruce told them. “I’m not keeping you as prisoners. You need rest. All of you.”

“We can rest later,” Sam argued. “We don’t have time to just- just sit around and do nothing!”

“Resting isn’t doing nothing,” he said. “It’s making sure you don’t push your body and mind too much so you can work more later.”

“We don’t have time for later.”

“With all due respect, um, Batman, sir,” Tucker began nervously, “Sam and Valerie are right. We have a lot to do. This has already gone on for long enough.”

Underneath the cowl, an eyebrow raised. “And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

The group hesitated.

“There is a secret government organization tormenting a subspecies of humans and metas,” Athanasia explained. “The organization call themselves the Ghost Investigation Ward.”

“Ghosts,” Bruce repeated.

The teens nodded.

Duke ‘huh’ed, as if he was piecing things together in his own head.

“Ghosts?” questioned Jason incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?”

Sam rolled her eyes. “There are literally aliens on this world, a dude with a magical ring, an Amazonian woman, a gene in human DNA that gives some of us powers, heroes apparently die and come back to life on the regular, a bunch of other shit, and you’re seriously questioning ghosts right now?”

“What do you mean by ‘tormenting’?” Bruce asked before Jason could properly respond. “And why?”

“Ghosts, or anything paranormal, aren’t seen as good or friendly beings by them,” Tucker said. His eyes became downcast. “They aren’t even considered beings. Or sentient.”

“The GIW are ghost hunters,” Valerie explained. “And over the past few years, they have taken an interest in our town, Amity Park, because of the extreme amount of paranormal activity and ambient ectoplasm we have. Usually our local ghost vigilante takes care of them, and it’s never been that big of a deal, even though they have always wanted to catch Phantom and do Ancients know what. He’s always been able to stop them before anything got too serious.

“Honestly, we didn’t take them that seriously when we probably should have. We call them the Guys in White, because they’re like a lame, evil, paranormal-obsessed version of the Men in Black. Even though they did have bad intentions, they’ve never been successful. But last October…”

“They aren’t so lame anymore,” Wes muttered.

As Bruce quietly took in and filed away the information he just got, Damian gave them a somewhat judgmental look. “You underestimated them. That can very well lead to a deadly mistake,” he said. He glared at them under the domino mask. “It almost did.”

“We know,” Sam responded, sounding equally frustrated and solemn. “They are a government organization that got bested by a group of fourteen year olds when they first came along. What were we supposed to think? They have been getting better over the years, but so have we. We have always taken necessary precautions and we had plans for potential bad outcomes because Danny was insistent on that. But they stopped coming around for some time. We stupidly believed they’d given up on us. Then the Guys in White finally showed their faces again, and we weren’t as prepared as we should have been.”

“It’s why we need to get back to Amity Park,” Wes said. “They put us under martial law and we need to get in touch with another friend of ours.”

Bruce took in what they said. He still had a bunch of questions alongside new ones that he wanted answers to ASAP. Alfred was right, though; questioning them right now – let alone letting any of them leave to continue on their mission – wasn’t a good idea.

This was a group of eager, stubborn teenagers whose town and best friend were in danger. He understood their urgency to keep going, and he told them as such. “But it will do no good for anyone to run yourselves to the ground. I’m even willing to help and hear the full story of what happened, but not until each of you get some much needed rest. That’s final.”

“But–”

“Batman, you don’t understand–”

“Running on fumes will get you no where,” he spoke firmly and loudly. It was the same tone he used on his kids, both in and out of suits, when they were misbehaving or did something they shouldn’t have. “It might even lead to another almost deadly mistake. You all need to rest. You can either stay in a safe house, or I can get in touch with Athanasia’s father and see if you can go there if that’s what you want.”

“What if we want a hotel?” Sam asked with a glare that hard to tell if it was from anger at him or the migraine she had.

“I won’t let you,” he bluntly admitted. “A government organization is after Danny and you guys by proxy, for reasons I don’t know. It’s either a safe house, or Athanasia’s father’s home that I have personally created a security system for.”

No one responded. A short silence fell over them.

Bruce decided to stand up. “I will let you guys choose. I need to check on my partners out in the field.”

[starbylers]

Hello!

This isnt meaning to be rude at all but i just had an interesting thought after seeing posts of people saying "Everyone would love byler if will was a girl" and yes that is a good point but would BYLER shippers ship it if will was a girl and it was straight? what if el and will's genders were swapped? would byler be loved so much if that was the case? No hate at all I love byler but it is an interesting thought and i have seen some people only care for it because its gay and not because they neccesary think the characters go well together.

Sorry for the rant just something I noticed half of what i said probably doesnt even make sense lol

Well to be honest…no? A lot of Bylers wouldn’t ship it if it was straight, or at least they wouldn’t be as invested in them becoming canon, but I’m not sure what point you’re trying to make? If Byler was straight it wouldn’t be the same story at all. It’s a childhood best friends to lovers story between two boys in the 80s. Issues like homophobia (internalised and otherwise), at least in canon, are integral to the ship dynamic and how their story unfolds. The draw for a lot of people is the conflict and angst derived from their circumstances and how that leads up to their love ultimately overcoming all the hate and forced repression that was extremely prevalent in society at the time (not that the world is perfect today or anything). But swapping Will and El’s genders is not something that can be done without turning it into an entirely different story.

Maybe some people like it purely because it’s gay? (Been here for a long time and I’ve never seen anyone say that but I mean if you say so). But a lot of Bylers got into the ship because they didn’t care for Mike and El’s dynamic (the teen drama, the lying, the awful communication, need I go on lol—but nothing to do with it being straight?) and found that Byler just have a stronger emotional connection, and think they’d make better romantic partners. Some people also just find it to be a way more interesting story than Mlvn. Some people even like Mlvn too, but still prefer Byler. People in the tag get excited over their scenes and break down the intricacies of their relationship on a daily basis, and have done for years atp. So I don’t really think what you’re describing is accurate to like 99.999% of the fandom lol.

[thecameronchronicles]

Him and I

TW: angst. Drug use (overdose). Language. This is more of an emotional piece than the usual smut, but soft sex IS there, I promise. so be warned for tissues…

SUMMARY: Everything changes after the night you overdose…

WORD COUNT: 2800

*Requested*

Him and I

You and Rafe were inseparable. There wasn’t a party in which you wouldn’t make come alive once connected, even if this was the extent of your own connection. The shots were endless along with the memories that stuck with you well beyond the effects of your rich lines of cocaine. But that all changed the night of the latest Kook party. 

From the minute he walked it, he should’ve known something was wrong. The usual ambiance of your punctual vivaciousness was absent and cold, making it clear he had actually arrived before you-something he planned to hold over your head once he saw you. But even through the whispers and hushed conversations of those speaking of him, he directed his focus to Topper and Kelce who wore a specific veil of uncertainty and sincerity in what was usually happy-go-lucky, if not high or buzzed. 

“Don’t give me shit, okay…not my fault she’s late…I’m gonna give her such hell when she gets here…” He explained, not even needing to say your name as Top knew who he was referring to as there wasn’t anyone else Rafe spoke of-especially with any form of affection. 

“Dude…” Topper began, Kelce standing at his side with shared worry to the reaction he’d offer once his friend continued. “You didn’t hear?”

“You know I don’t care about all that drama-”

“No…Rafe…she uh…she overdosed last night…” Rafe stilled, the words suddenly sounding foreign when replayed in his mind. His life ended the moment he’d heard those words as repressed feelings surfaced in regret along with conversations and actions not taken. The recklessness of using cocaine and its promising high no longer held any level of importance to him. Not when losing you was payment for it. After all, he was the one to introduce you to its chase and its fatal beckoning. 

“She’s in the hospital-” Kelce added. 

“What hospital?” He was quick to his feet, the recent bag of blow discarded on the table, the money, and debt, he was in just for that recent high having been forgotten in comparison to you-needing to see you. 

“What fucking hospital?!” He asked again as Topper offered the knowledge he had as Rafe barreled through the party, ignoring the comments made against him. 

This exchange of events is what led you to wake up with him at your side, his eyes swollen from tears, as he lunged to take your hand once your eyes peeled open. For a moment, you wondered if this could have been heaven, but scoffed at the idea of Rafe being allowed inside those pearly gates and knew you hadn’t succumbed to your indulgence from the day before. 

“I’m so sorry.” Your eyes narrowed at him in confusion as you shuffled to try and get comfortable, only to feel an ache in your throat and stomach from having been pumped the night before. 

“You didn’t do anything…I did…” You hesitated for a moment before the reality of your actions made you speak your thoughts aloud, “I was so scared, Rafe…Even now…after all of that…I STILL want more…” You croaked in an attempt to speak as the sound of your voice, pained and distressed drove him to bow into your side. When he lifted again, he sniffled, revealing his tears, before slowly nodding. 

“I swear to God…I’ll never touch that shit again…and if you do…I’ll kill you myself…”

“Rafe-”

“I can do it…WE can do it…I just…I almost lost you…And…Shit…I won’t let that happen again, do you understand me?” His hand moved to your cheek, this admiration that had always been a spark but never explored, having now been as clear as day to you. 

“I’m not going to leave your side…alright? You and me…” You nodded softly before you were interrupted by a nurse coming to take your vitals. The details of your overdose and how lucky you were only worsened Rafe’s angst, you learned how you’d danced with the white devil, narrowly escaping its fatal crescendo. 

It was a mistake you swore you’d never make again. And yet a promise you couldn’t keep as the need for the numbing high called to you at every second. But Rafe kept to his promise, never leaving your side until you were discharged from the hospital. 

“I can walk, Rafe…” You whined, frustrated at having been bound to wires and wheelchairs for the last week and a half, antsy to stand on your own two feet in every sense. But he was convicted to his promise, one you wouldn’t hold him to if he where to change his mind as his continuous presence was intense and intimidating, but you also couldn’t lie at the ease it brought to you. 

“Protocol.” He answered before leading you to the passenger side of his car, helping you inside, before returning the wheelchair to the nurse. But where you expected him to pull onto the road from the entrance of the ICU unit, you watched him fixate on the lights of the dash. 

“Rafe? Are you okay?” You chuckled as he looked over to you following a released tension of his jaw. 

“I…I want to be good to you-”

“You haven’t left my side in over a week, I think-”

“No, I mean…I want to be good FOR you…” His eyes focused on your own, this imminent confession coming to you in the contradicting surprise of what you always wondered if he’d ever act on. 

“But I don’t deserve it…I don’t deserve you-”

“Rafe…”

“But I want to…So…I’m-I’m-uh…I’m taking you home and then I’m going to-to uh rehab.” It seemed as if the word itself was terrifying to him. And yet, the words behind it were sincere enough to understand their truth. 

“And when I come out…I want to take you on a date…Gives me something to work towards, you know? If that…if that’s what’d want?” He was shy, the usual arrogance nowhere in sight, as he bowed his head, expecting your rejection. 

“If you’re in rehab, who is going to make sure I don’t…I don’t use?”

“What if we both went?” You hesitated, aware that this wasn’t an invitation to a dinner or a movie-this was something that would be painful and require endurance and strength you weren't sure that you possessed. It was daunting but effective as his drive to commit to it made you understand that if he, of all people, was willing to give it a shot, there wasn’t a reason you couldn’t. 

“We can talk as much as they let us-I’ll even write emails or letters, whatever would help…But please…I can’t-I can’t lose you.” His voice broke in upcoming tears as you offered him a gentle hand set softly over his. 

“Then let’s do it…”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “But I’m expecting one hell of a date then.” He bobbed his head in agreement and understanding. 

“You got it.” He set his forehead to yours, refraining from a kiss you both desperately wanted, but wanted to savor it, not in the echo of a farewell. To keep to this, you’d part in well wishes and a reiteration of the promise before crossing the threshold of the rehabilitation center. 

It was only thirty days but each and every one of them were hell. The craving never met, the pull never silenced, and the drive to complete this always faltering the second you’d feel strength. It was enough to bring you to tears with each withdrawal, emotional or from your drug of choice. But towards the end of this, you’d found a new light-an excitement of what was to come once you’d cross that threshold after being thirty days sober of all things illegal as a vice. But the true torture came in the correspendonce from Rafe, that was seldom but that breath of fresh air necessary to continue with your program. 

When the day came that you’d completed your rehabilitation,your body already feeling a sense of renewed focus and promise, he was waiting for you, just as he’d said. A single red rose set between his fingers while he advanced towards you, taking you into his arms and holding you as close as possible against him. 

“We did it…”He breathed softly into your neck as you nodded. 

“Now I believe you owe me a date, Mister Cameron-” His brows raised. 

“I could get used to you calling me that…” He teased as you pushed playfully against his chest, his eyes catching sight of your lips for a moment as you parted them in anticipation.

 Through the duration of your friendship, you’d never crossed that line, even if there always held a flirtation just beneath the surface. But ever since you overdosed, everything had changed. His words were crafted carefully and with continuous admiration, his promises were fulfilled and reliance was restored without the pull of drugs making him less than adequate on those fronts. He was everything you’d always wanted him to be, and it caused your bedroom eyes to taunt him when realizing this. 

“So where are you taking me?”

“Gotta get in to find out.” Hepulled away, releasing you with reluctance, before opening your door, and watching you slide inside. Once certain he wouldn’t strike you when the door closed, he nervously brushed his palms onto his pants before moving to the driver’s side of the car, taking you to this undisclosed location. 

“The beach?” Your brows raised as the car came to a stop. “You just wanted to see me in a bikini, didn’t you?”

“Can’t deny THAT…” He chuckled as you shook your head as he leaned into the back seat of the car to pull a bag into view. 

“BUT…I’m taking you somewhere a bit more private…” He motioned to a boat set in the near distance, leaving you excited as The My Druthers was always a favorite for you. Whenever parties were held there, they were always the best-which made you itch for that release of another hit, although you knew this wasn’t his intention. It helped, however, that when in the daylight, you could almost forget the lines you'd done off of the rear dining room table and counter of the bathroom. 

Almost…

“You alright?” He asked as he helped you aboard, a weak nod tearing your distracted gaze back to him. 

“I wanted to take you to a restaurant…but I’d have to get myself drunk to be able to get through it-”

“Get through it?”

“Withiout fucking it up…so instead…” He motioned to a member of the crew, who now brought out glasses of a pale amber liquid sparkling from the bottom up. 

“Rafe…”

“It’s cider…sparking cider-” You breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you…” He spoke to the chef, a kindness he’d never shown to anyone in a less social class than himself, proving how he’d changed following that night. 

“You’re spoiling me, Rafe…” You explained as he led you to the dining table set with the most lavish of foods; elite place settings waiting your choice of perfectly fileted fish and mouth watering desserts, aromatic vegetables and colorful fruits-everything had your mouth watering, but nothing more than the way he adored you with his eyes. 

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, doll…” Again, his eyes fell to your lips, but he’d motion for you to sit, a pout coming across your face for only a second, before fading as he sat beside you.

 You two fell into a rhythm rather quickly of laughter and acknowledgement of one another, learning just how much you had in common. Whether it was the domestic issues or feelings of inadequacy, broken hearts or people who expected too much, it was enough for you to understand that you were twin flames. Your eyes only broke apart when you were crying from tears of laughter as your locked gazes otherwise consumed one another from across the meals now finished. 

“Can you stand up for me?” You hesitated as he joined you, taking your waist softly into his hands before swaying you. 

“Rafe, there's no music…” To this, he began to hum as you smirked, shaking your head, before allowing yourself to fall into him, your head at rest to his shoulder. 

“I don’t want to ruin this by bringing it up, but I have to tell you something…” He broke his man-made music before looking at you, hands soft to your cheeks. “That night-”

“Rafe, you don’t have to-”

“Please…” You nodded. 

“I didn’t think of us beyond what we were…party fiends or if there’s another name for it…but when I heard that you…I realized you were the most important thing to me. I knew it before and denied it because of how it felt when I saw you-when I know I got to…But…what I want you to know is that you…you fixed me…You made me someone I can be proud of and I know I still don’t deserve you but I-” You silenced him with a kiss soft against his lips. His fingers tightened on your hips for only a moment before running up your spine as the other wrapped around your hips to bring you further against him. 

“I want to take care of you, sweetheart…In every way you’ll let me…I promise nothing will ever hurt you again…I won’t let it…” He vowed, pain beneath his voice as you nodded. 

“Kiss me…please…” He smiled, taking you back into him once again, the most gentle of kisses strengthened in carnality by your fingers, as you turned you against the surface of the table. 

“I’m sorry, we should take it slow, I didn’t mean to-”

“Rafe…I want you to…” His eyes darted between your own and back to your lips as if the words were in need of repetition or further validation. 

“I want you-” He spun you into the direction of the rooms below deck, the crew blushing in understanding what was about to transpire, as he closed the door by the way of your body pressing against it. In slow dishevelment, you were undressed, his lips always adorning the new skin made available to him, before you reciprocated against his own toned and sun kissed skin. 

The second he was relieved of his pants, he lifted you around him until you were set indented into the bed beneath him, bodies intertwined with mutual need. 

“I swear to God, I’ll take care of you…” He kissed your neck. 

“Protect you…” He continued lower, kissing down your stomach, and finalizing on your thighs. 

“Support you…” His eyes lifted to yours. 

“But right now, all I can think about is making you feel good…making you come for me…” Your breath hitched as he chose his words carefully, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but also desperate for you to know just how badly he wanted you. 

“Yes…yes, Rafe, please.” He smiled, pulling your panties from your hips and kissing slow kisses into your natural seam. The second his tongue made contact, your body reacting immediately. 

“Let me make you feel good, baby.” You nodded, eyes rolling silently to the back of your head as you basked in how he’d devoted himself to you; completely basking in every reaction your body made with the flicks of his tongue, insertion of his fingers, and eventual curl following each pump. 

“Rafe!” You breathed in a gasp, attempting to be silent while reaching for his erection, needing to share the pleasure, but he only set your hands softly above your head. 

“Maybe next time…I just want you to feel me…” You nodded, too eager to fight him, as he’d press a softkiss into your mouth. 

“Do you want me to…?” He motioned to his cock, throbbing and crimson with need, as you nodded, taking him into your hand and stroking him a handful of times, a curse leaving his lips. 

“Fuck…please…I need to feel you.” You obliged, taking him inside of you as you both shared a gasp of disbelief. 

“Shit, you feel…oh my God…” He began to move, shamelessly deep and thorough as your nails ate into the skin of his arms from how he’d pumped himself into you. 

Although his motions were desperate, he was still tender and sweet, not the animal you’d heard as rumors to those lucky enough to share his bed forthenight. But that was because he had never cared enough about someone to take his time, to feel the savor of an interaction like this. And with you, he wanted it all. The love. The lust. The care. The passion. Even the pain. If it meant having you, he’d endure all the pain, and even do so with a smile. 

“Rafe…” You whimpered, your release too close to keep silent as he nodded. 

“Come with me, baby…please…” He whimpered, his own release edging close as he’d hold you tighter, move faster, and take you against him in such motions that the climax was enough to leave you both in impossible tremors. The echo of each other's names wrapping around you, he’d pull you up to his chest, the satisfaction of tensions released allowing you to bask in this euphoria without even an ounce of worry in what came next. 

“I love you…” The words left his lips as you pulled up to view him, tears formed in your eyes. 

“I love you, Rafe…” He took you into a perfect kiss to end a perfect date with your perfect guy…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost

[anamelessfool]

Hello, I am A Nameless Fool.

30+. She/Her. I'm writing a massive Ghost AU because I'm insane.

They have no time to consider what the Void is. All they understand is that it is Hungry. And they are the only two previously human beings that can ensure the health of their charge. They are the single line of defense at the border of Void and Not Void.

Scenes from the Void (Eldritch Horror AU) AO3 Series Link

Feel free to read them in any order you like. I'm adding fics of each Papa, with a variety of emotional tones and subjects. They all revolve around a larger overarching plot.

Current Major Fic (Moodboard by @ghuleh-recs):

WIP Violence & Gentleness

Primo x OC Papessa, Primo & Family| Family Drama, Young Primo, Whump, Protective Older Brother, Brotherly Affection, Action Adventure, Mystery, Noir, Late 1970s, OC Nameless Ghouls

LATE OCTOBER 1979 Primo has his work cut out for him as the bodyguard of the beautiful and fearsome Mater Emerita Jocasta. As mystery after mystery unfolds, it becomes harder to remain a honest man in this den of thieves called the Ministry.

Ghouls and Lore

Blackened Feathers OC | Horror, Lore

Resurrection Reader & Papa (Any) | Ritual Magic, Ghouls, Trippy Weirdness (done for the @petrifyingpapas challenge May '23)

The Garden Nameless Ghouls, Terzo/Omega | SFW (strong language), Family Bonding, Dark Magic, Trippy, Adventure, Family Drama, Secret Relationship, Nonbinary Ghouls

Ongoing WIP Bestiary Nameless Ghouls (Canon and OC) | Ficlets 18+, Dark Magic, Alternate History, Weird Lore, Historical References, Other OC Papa Emeritus/Mater Emerita

Ongoing WIP Domestics Entire "Emeritus" Family and Church | Ficlets 16+, Domestic Fluff, Angst and Fluff, Humor, Slice of Life

Terzo x Omega

The First and The Last Terzo/Omega | Dark Romance, Ritual Magic, Trippy Weirdness

Reciprocity Terzo/Omega | Artist Model, Photography, Tender Moments, Body Worship, Oral Fixation, Cardiophilia

Ribbons & Ties Terzo/Omega | Domestic Fluff, Established relationship, Weddings Bring Out Your Fear of Commitment

Copia x Cardinal Marian (OC)

Sweeter Red Copia/OC | Fluffy Romance, bdsm, demi Copia, Bittersweet

All the Stops (Sweeter Red Sequel) Copia/OC | Fluffy Romance, bdsm, Bittersweet

Tilted Copia/OC, Terzo/Omega | Adventure, Dark Magic, Ghouls, Trippy Weirdness, Dark Past, Repressed Memories, Secret Relationships, Long-term Relationship

Wanna Bewitch You Copia/OC, Terzo/OC, Nameless Ghouls, Emeritus Family| Adventure, Dark Magic, Ghouls, Trippy Weirdness, Dark Past, Long-term Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Formalwear

Valentine's Day 1985 Young Copia & Primo | Brotherly Affection, Domestic Fluff, Valentine's Day, Hurt/Comfort, My Art

Primo x OC Papessa, Primo & Family

For One Creature's Sake Primo & Copia | Phobias, Family Drama,Young Cardinal Copia, Young Primo, Whump, Protective Older Brother, Brotherly Affection, Hurt/Comfort, Terminal Illness

WIP Violence & Gentleness Primo x OC Papessa, Primo & Family| Family Drama, Young Primo, Whump, Protective Older Brother, Brotherly Affection, Action Adventure, Mystery, Noir, Late 1970s, OC Nameless Ghouls

Interlude: In Orbit Always Primo x OC Nameless Ghoul (Edelweiss Ghoul | FWB, One Bed Trope, Psychic Ties, Dreams, Somniphilia, First Time, Friends BUT MORE

Secondo & Family

Maestro Sister Imperator & Young Secondo, Young Terzo | Ritual Magic, Sibling Rivalry (done for the @petrifyingpapas challenge May '23)

WIP Crossroads Secondo & Terzo, Secondo & Family | Ritual Magic, Horror, Trippy Weirdness, Brother Angst, Father & Son, Family Drama

Extra (Outside of The Scenes from the Void AU)

Call Me Papa IV & Reader | SFW, Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Cardiophilia, Comfy Read, Papa IV Reassures You Everything Will Be Okay

One Shot Papa IV & Reader | Silly Fic, PG-13 Fun, Overly Dramatic, Concert Experience

Tights Papa IV x Gen Reader | Fishnets, Body Worship, Massage, Sensual Play, Foot Play, Foot Job, Light D/s, Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

No Deal Papa Nihil x Fem! Reader | 1970s, Music References, Recreational Drug Use, Oral, Shotgunning, Nihil Being Father of the Decade, Surprise Ending

VIII Strength Papa IV x Gen Reader | Dom Sub Dynamic, Established Relationshop, Power Play, Body Worship, Bondage

Housekeeping Notes

I sometimes announce I'm doing fic requests. They are PG-13. I do not post NSFW works on tumblr, please read them through AO3 and keep them on AO3. I DO really love talking about writing and meeting other writers, so please don't be shy. NEMA

About Me 👇👇👇

I love: Clive Barker, John Bellairs, Mervyn Peake, Shirley Jackson, Terry Prachett, David Lynch, David Cronenberg

Other Hobbies: Larping, Sewing, BJD, witchcraft, wandering around the woods

Current Favorite Albums to Write to:

[chirp-a-chirp]

Enough

Fandom/Consort: Court of Darkness, Roy Invidia

Description: What is the driving force behind Roy’s need for princely perfection? All is not as it seems in this fairytale kingdom of roses.

Story takes place shortly before the S:Rank princes arrive at the Academy of Concordia (ie, a decade before the game’s prologue).

Tags: Angst, Feels, Family Drama, Insecurities

Word count: ~550

…

Good boy; good brother; good prince. I have heard these accolades countless times.

Today, I discovered they are worthless.

While walking in the palace, I heard raised voices coming from the throne room. Father is rarely cross, especially in any royal capacity. Curiosity got the better of me as I listened behind a crack in a nearby door.

“Do you have a plan?”

“My children are not pawns, Lord Tywin.” Father sat on the throne, his voice shaking with barely repressed rage. He took a breath before speaking in more composed tones. “They know their duty and do it well. Sherry is the people’s princess. Roy’s ancient magic is the greatest in Invidia’s history. He will lead our people to a prosperous future.”

“It is not enough!” Lord Tywin’s voice rose in pitch. “Prince Guy has magical prowess not seen since Vane. Prince Toa is close behind. Avari or Qelsum will crush our kingdom if given the chance.”

“Roy is to attend the Academy of Concordia soon. He’ll make allies with them. It’s a gift of his.”

“Avari and Qelsum value strength, not pretty words,” Lord Tywin sneered. “Prince Guy and Toa are hardened with wills of steel. Prince Roy must stand toe to toe with them, be like them, if we are to survive.”

“That is not the Invidian way. Nor Roy’s.” Father’s voice was low, rumbling with anger. His inflection then shifted, to one that was nearly pleading. “He is as tenacious as the other princes. Just in a different manner. I…will not ask him to be something he is not.” Father starred at Lord Tywin, hoping his words could make him see reason. “My son is a good man. That is enough.”

“Enough?” A bark of laughter echoed in the room. “You condemn Invidia to a future of submission and slaughter then,” spat Lord Tywin. “Unless—“

“I will hear your toxic words no more.” Father got up from the throne and began leaving. But Lord Tywin went on.

“Unless Princess Sherry were to marry.” Father stopped, his eyes flashing. “Many of the other lords agree with me. After all, there are multiple Avari princes to secure an alliance.”

“Sherry is not fully grown. Far too young for this conversation.” Father’s eyes narrowed. “I would have her follow her heart.”

“Why else have a daughter?” Lord Tywin scoffed. “Besides, you merely need to arrange a betrothal. They can consummate at a later date.”

“Enough!” Father strode quickly to the other man so that his face was inches from Lord Tywin’s. “I will not—“

“Your son or your daughter. One must make a sacrifice.”

I left my hiding spot, not wanting or needing to hear more.

Lord Tywin was right about some things. Father would not ask me to change. He is too kind to do so. That kindness is why Invidia and our people have prospered thus far.

But sacrifices must be made to ensure that prosperity continues.

I love Sherry’s smile. She is a blossom in full bloom. I will not be the cause of it wilting. If anyone should sacrifice or change, it should be me.

Good is not enough. That much is clear. Nothing less than perfection will suffice. I must be strong—To protect Sherry, father, Invidia.

To protect them all.

[cecilysass]

Fic Recommendations: DeadAlive

So I really like post-DeadAlive fics. Not because I’m a big resurrection story fan (Jesus / Osiris stans, no offense) but because I can’t get enough of angst, repressed feelings and baby daddy reveal drama. I am going to post a version of my very own later this week. Meanwhile, I read a lot of these, so I thought I would share some recs. Here are a few of my favorites.

Slow Returns - o666666  You just don’t know how often I reread this. I love it so, so much. This one puts the emphasis on Scully’s trauma, and it’s so angsty, and it’s so sweeeeeet. I tear up every time.

DeadAlive AU - @markwatneyandenesemble I always say I actually think this should probably be called Three Words Canon Divergence or something, but whatever it is, I love it. The premise is two specific changes to canon. When Mulder comes back from the dead: (1) he has memories only to 1996 and (2) Scully isn’t visibly pregnant yet.

Author Skuls seems to feel about about this subgenre like I do, because she seems to have written a lot of post-DeadAlive, and I’m not complaining. Here’s a little DeadAlive Skuls tasting trio:

the smaller odysseys - skuls (@ghostbustermelanieking)  An AU DeadAlive fic in which Doggett convinces Skinner to keep Mulder’s resurrection a secret from Scully for longer. This ends like awwwwwwwww.

ashes and dust - skuls (@ghostbustermelanieking)  A largely canon-compliant DeadAlive / Three Words deep dive.

inches between them - skuls (@ghostbustermelanieking)  Another Skuls fic on this subject, also exceptionally sweet.

Doctor, Copper, Sailer, Corpse - Scarlet Baldy This is a series of first person vignettes from Scully POV. Extremely angsty and a little painful, with a very self-destructive version of Mulder here, but ultimately a hopeful ending. 

Ray of Light - OnlyTheInevitable (@gaycrouton) Honest conversation, then hot pregnancy sex—a Three Words fic we can all get behind. Which I think is actually one of the suggested positions for pregnancy sex.

Words, Words, Words - Circe Invidiosa (@invidiosa ) I’m not much of a Doggett fan, but I love this fic about Doggett breaking things down for Mulder. This is subtly written and moving— a heartbreaking Mulder characterization, in my opinion. home run - kittenscully Another great “Doggett gets involved” fic. Also very moving. Apparently this is how I like my Doggett. The Laws of Coming and Going - Buckingham A gentle Mulder-centric fic focused on his good intentions and slow moves back towards connecting with Scully. Very in-character and sweet. Hour of Lead - DarlaBlack (@sigritandtheelves) This is an excellent read — but watch out for the bleak, tear-out-your-heart ending. It's only painful because it’s canon compliant, so warning: you have to remember what happens with Scully’s longed-for miracle baby in canon. Waaaaah. So much angst. Untitled - @wtfmulder I see you, you wildly touching little drabble. This is set between Three Words and Empedocles, and it’s meant to explain the seeming change in Mulder’s attitude, and why does this make me cry?

What have I missed? Y’all have other post-DeadAlive fics you like? Have you written any? SEND THEM MY WAY.