#consciously stop myself from laughing because the only thought in my brain was

[pink-angel]

.

[legiblyloathed]

Ain’t He Darling? (Chapter 3)

Yandere! Wally Darling x Reader

TW: brief gaslighting in this chapter

A/N: And now, back by unpopular demand, me! It took me a bit longer than usual to brain out this chapter, mainly because I’ve been replaying Breath of the Wild to prepare for Tears of the Kingdom. Fun fact, for one innocuous paragraph in this chapter, I had to google very basic knowledge just to get by. Extra credit if you can guess which one it was. /j And now, without further ado, I present: chapter 3.

Tag list: @tikosan @itsyellow @twerkingnutella18 @azoart @elegantkidfansoul @cutsieskull @delvira-only-baby @anaki-kuroshi @jellyfish-fish

Prev

The first thought in my mind when I wake up in a heap on the floor of my foyer is something along the lines of “My bones feel like rusty springs.” Who would have thought falling asleep against a door after a long, stressful day would cause every bone in your body to creak in protest with every bend and stretch? Not even a minute of consciousness and it’s apparent that leaving the house is gonna be a pain in more ways than one today.

The second thought is “Whoever just knocked on my door is dead to me.” Which, I will admit, is a bit harsh, but the headache that rears up from the sound compounded by the burn of every joint in my body would make anyone just a tad grouchy.

Against my body’s wishes, I force myself up off the ground, the sound of joints popping ringing in my ears. Some of the pain subsides with the release of pressure, but it’s clear that a good long soak in a hot bath will be necessary later. I allow myself a good, long stretch to wring out any remaining bubbles before relaxing with a heaving breath and opening the door.

The large stranger is smiling with an air of patience, as if he already knew of my predicament. He’s dressed rather simply: a button up shirt, a multicolored tie, and plain slacks. The emblem on his hat and bag signifies that he’s the mailman, which in hindsight should have been obvious considering the two letters clutched in his hands.

“Well, hey there, neighbor!” His voice holds the heavy twang of a southern accent that’s imbedded itself deep into his soul. “Don’t reckon we’ve met yet, have we?” His empty hand extends itself towards me as he proclaims, “Name’s Eddie.”

You’d think I’d be more accustomed to the sheer friendliness of the people around here, and yet I still have to take a moment to register the greeting and introduce myself. After a firm handshake, he offers me the mail in his other hand. “Got a couple letters for ya. You sure made friends fast!”

I let out a chuckle as I take the envelopes. “Guess I did, huh?” I respond as I take a quick glance at the two letters. One is a bright shade of pink, the other a cool blue. I look back up at the friendly man. “I’m kind of embarrassed to admit I didn’t know there was a post office here,” I say sheepishly.

To my relief, Eddie laughs. “Guess we are a pretty small neighborhood, but every town needs a mailman.” He pats his mailbag for emphasis, and I hear the light crinkling of paper rustling around inside. “Letters ain’t gonna deliver themselves, you know.” He spares a glance at his watch to check the time. “Speaking of, I still got a few more stops on the route, so I’d best be leaving.”

“Oh, alright!” I say with a smile. “Wouldn’t want to keep you. Have a nice day!”

“I will, you have a nice day, too, neighbor!” With a grin and a wave, Eddie sets off while whistling a tune. I watch him walk away for a moment before ducking back into my house and shutting the door. I debate reading the letters right there in the foyer, but my decision to skip dinner the night prior seems to have upset my weary body, which lets out a growl of hunger. The sudden realization of just how starving I was propelled me into my kitchen, where I haphazardly tossed the letters onto the table. Breakfast first, then social life.

As I start to prepare a simple meal, I happen to catch of whiff of myself.

…a bath. Breakfast, a bath, then social life.

—————————

It’s a little past midday when I finally wander back into my dining room, the worst of the muscle pain having dissolved in hot, soapy water. The feeling left me sleepy, and I only came back to grab a quick snack from the fridge before taking a nap. However, the garish colors of the envelopes lying askew on the table are a reminder that I forgot to get around to reading them.

With a vague feeling of guilt for having functionally ignored my neighbors, I grab the envelope on top first, which happens to be the pink one. A scan of the address reveals the sender to be none other than Julie. I huff out a laugh. I should’ve guessed. After a trip to the junk drawer to locate my letter opener, I unfold the paper (Why does it smell like flowers? Does she put perfume on her parchment?) and lean against the table as I read.

Dear Neighbor,

Hope you’ve been feeling better! You seemed a little anxious at the picnic and I’ve been rather worried. I talked to Frank and he said you just weren’t adjusted to the neighborhood yet. So, I had an idea! I’d like you to come over to my house today to play with me and Frank! We still have plenty of treats leftover and a ton of games we didn’t get to play. I think we’ll all be the best of friends!

Lots of Love,

Julie Joyful <3

The whole paper is covered in doodles of hearts and smiley faces and it brings a smile to my face. I smooth the letter out as best I can. When the wrinkles are all gone, I grab a few magnets and hang it up on my fridge. My first letter! I really do make friends fast. As I beam at the page, picking up the other letter, a sense of calm washes over me. A fun day with two of my lovely neighbors. Just what I need to take my mind off-

I don’t move for a second. My eyes stay glued down to the deep blue envelope held in my hands. I know it’s a bit silly to be so scared of a simple name neatly printed on a piece of paper, but that acknowledgment does little to comfort me. All I can do is stare at the letter.

The letter from Wally.

I breathe in. I breathe out. In. Out. In. Out. I let my hand drift back down, setting the envelope and whatever it might hold within back onto the table. It almost feels dangerous to let my eyes linger on it. I walk away, leaving the kitchen without the snacks I once intended to grab.

I’m not hungry anymore.

—————————

Julie’s house is every bit as bright and cheery as the woman who lives there. The colors border on overwhelming, both the exterior and interior being so vibrant you could make out all the furniture in the dead of night. The smell of grass, flowers, and a hint of sugar waft through the air. It’s the kind of place you can enter and know deep down you’re gonna be safe. But the single most stunning feature of her home has to be the flower garden.

I enter under a beautiful picket fence arch which has long been overtaken by interwoven pink roses. Those same roses line the garden, weaving around each other and the white stakes in the ground. Bushes of multicolored hydrangeas line the back of the house, and stepping stones made of pebbles and small glass stones forge paths through the flowerbeds. In the middle of it all is a clearing in which a yellow blanket lies covered with tea cakes and sandwiches.

I’m so wrapped up in the scenery that I bump into Frank as he carries a small tea set to the blanket. The two of us both jump in surprise, and the cups wobble on the tray for a moment before they level it out to keep them balanced. I put a hand on my chest to calm myself. “I’m so sorry!” I exclaim. “I got distracted, are you alright?”

Frank huffs a bit as he continues to make his way toward the blanket. “I’m fine, neighbor. No harm, no foul.” They lower the set to the ground, careful to keep it steady. Once he seems sure of its integrity, he looks up at me, a hint of exasperation on his face. “Just, please pay a bit more attention to where you’re going.”

With a wave of anxiety, my hands move to tuck near to my chest and tug at each other, eyes averted to a patch of daffodils. “Yeah, I’ll try. It’s just…” My sentence trails off as I admire the intricacies of the garden around us. I manage to turn back to him. “This place is incredible, isn’t it?”

Frank stands up and takes a look around too, an air of peace overtaking his grumpy exterior for a moment. “It really is. Julie works hard to keep it like this, and it really pays off.” I murmur an agreement, and we both take in our surroundings in silence for a minute or two.

The sound of the back door swinging open appears in my periphery, and a familiar, chipper voice follows it shortly. “Oh, you’re early!” Julie steps out and joins us, the small plate of warm sugar cookies in her grasp sending steam into the air. “I didn’t think you’d show up for another half hour. I’m so happy to see you!” She moves the plate to her left hand, wrapping her right arm around me in a half hug. I’m ushered back towards the blanket, and the three of us all settle down in the middle of the garden. I don’t waste a moment before picking up a sandwich and taking a bite.

We don’t chat much while we eat, though Frank does have to remind Julie not to talk with her mouth full a time or two. She seems eager for us to finish eating so we can get to the games, the buzzing energy around her so infectious that I find myself rushing to finish my lunch so I can find out what she has planned. She’s done within minutes, and it doesn’t take long before I’m also licking the errant sugar sprinkles from my fingers. We chatter about everything and nothing as Frank works their way through their meal, seeming immune to Julie’s impatience.

After a good long while, Frank finally wipes his mouth and begins to pile up our dirty dishes onto the tea tray. It doesn’t even take a second for Julie to already be on her feet, bouncing in excitement. “Are we ready? Can we play now? What should we do first?”

“First, we should clean up.” Frank seems to be struggling to balance everything as he stands up, and I hurry to my feet to take the tray from him. They murmur out a brief thank you as they push themself off the blanket. “It’s not a good idea to start running around with glass on the ground. We don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Once he regains his bearings, he kneels down to pick up the remaining few plates and a few scattered pieces of trash. “We should probably take the blanket in, too, so we don’t trip over it.”

Taking the cue, Julie bends down to pull the yellow blanket from the grass, folding it into a messy pile in her arms. “Good idea, Frank! Come on!” Not seeming concerned with waiting for Frank and me, she disappears in a flash of pink into her house. The two of us glance at each other, chuckling as we follow behind, the clinking of china marking our footsteps.

The dishes have only just touched the kitchen counter when Julie darts back into the room. She notices my looking towards the sink and rushes to say “Don’t worry about it, I’ll clean all of them later. Let’s just go!” I match her smile as I follow her back outside with Frank tailing behind.

The next couple of hours seem to soar by, the boundless energy given off by the pastel woman so contagious that I don’t even realize how exhausted I am until I stumble and fall during a game of shadow tag and find that I don’t feel like getting up. I instead stay flopped over panting in the grass, arms outstretched, staring at the sky as the shades of blue begin to fade to soft arrays of green, orange, and pink. A grey face pops into my view, peering at me from the side with their eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Are you alright? That was a pretty rough fall.” Still trying to catch my breath, I offer a thumbs up in lieu of a verbal response. Frank seems satisfied with that, and lowers himself to the ground far more gently than I had.

He’s at once nearly bowled over by Julie, who if I didn’t know better almost seems a little winded herself. With residual giggles, she says, “Wow, I haven’t gotten to play for so long in ages! I knew we were gonna get along great!”

It’s a tad awkward being the only person fully lying on the ground. I funnel all my self discipline into propping myself up, opting to lean back on my hands to continue taking in the scenery above my head. My eyes sweep over it all, noting telltale specks of stars as the sun slips away to reveal them from behind the blue. I don’t think I’ve ever such a beautiful view of the sky before.

“I agree, it’s incredible.” Frank’s voice nearly makes me jump out of my skin. It takes a second to register that I must’ve let that last sentence stray from my mind to my tongue. I keep my focus upwards, hoping no one noticed my embarrassment. It appears to have worked as he continues, “It almost looks like a painting.”

A painting. A simple, commonplace thing that shouldn’t churn my stomach, but I still feel my heart drop at the words. In my periphery, Julie leans in with a giddy look on her face. “Speaking of, you and Wally seemed to have fun yesterday. Why, you two were out by the woods so long, Poppy almost sent out a search party!” She laughs, and I deem myself lucky that she didn’t notice the blood drain away from my head.

A pale imitation of a laugh comes out with the words, “Yeah, I guess we did…” The silence in the air grows thick, for me if not for the others. The rational and empathetic sides of my brain are waging war once more, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Does… does he ever make you guys feel…” I trail off, struggling to find the words with two sets of eyes now focused on me. “…nervous?”

Frank’s head tilts, and he appears puzzled. “What do you mean? Why would he?”

My head begins to sink into my neck, like a turtle hiding from danger. “It’s just, I always feel like he’s staring at me, and some of the things he says while he does it come across a bit… off. Y’know?”

“Oh, that’s just how Wally is!” Julie bats at the air as if to dismiss the notion. “You’re worrying over nothing.”

As I begin to stutter out my disagreement, Frank asserts, “She’s right. He doesn’t mean any harm. You just haven’t gotten used to him yet.”

“I mean, I guess.” I push myself off my hands, the need to articulate my emotions taking over in my flustered state. “But, I got used to you guys and Poppy and Eddie within minutes. Wally just makes me feel uncomfortable.” The words are tumbling out now, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them.

When I force my eyes upward, Julie’s are already meeting them, and my gut wrenches at the uncharacteristic dour edge to her appearance. “It’s rude to talk about people like that behind their back, neighbor. He’s been nothing but lovely to you since you got here, and it’s not nice for you to treat him like some kind of threat.” A glance at Frank reveals a similar sentiment in his appraisal of me, and shame builds up within my heart. Against my will, tears begin to burn my eyes and mist my vision.

Unable to take it any longer, I push myself up. “I think I should go.” Neither of them tries to stop me. I pass through the magnificent greenery, knowing that the memory of it is going to have a permanent black mark tied to it. My hand settles on the garden gate, and I hesitate for a brief moment before deciding on “Thank you for the lunch, and for the games.” A mutter akin to that of ‘you’re welcome’ is heard behind me, and with that, I set off for my home.

The sky continues its transition to the night, and I solemnly await for the colors to fade so I can no longer see the brushstrokes in the heavens.

[madfantasy]

Dear blogging

Wish you peace, always. Considering all, it been extra rough. My guardians were sick, and my fragile of a stability was about to break— but it okay now, and the pendulum of consciousness returned swaying in my head.

Somehow in the middle of everything, I was starting to feel okay and accept that this is the best it can get for this non verbal Mani. I honestly I stopped living as if there was tomorrow maybe the majority of 2023, zero drive or hopefulness, and lately started to accept that there's no denying that I'm not made to survive this life, and dropped all pretence that I'm able, set a 5 years counter. Because if mere looking at people's faces distress me so much that I blank out &/or go mute, since childhood, no amount of me forcing myself to watch videos/ pictures over and over can fix that. That's simply how I'm made and I know that now, and in a way it's bringing me peace.

Because I thought I'm bratting when I wore my headphones to cancel out noise that were literally going to drive me insane, or when I couldn't respond to messages knowing that I can articulate deeply in writing but ignoring all the endless times when I simply couldn't, and have forced myself to eat many things that set me days in nausea and abdominal pain while I only enjoy liquids more and get high off of fruits, I love them so much half my OCs are named after some.. and drew.. drew even before I spoke because it was my only outlit to express because how much I'm told I'm like a robot, I'm so expressionless and non reactive and disgustingly literal, even when they actively beat me black Nd blue to stop drawing, I couldn't.. where do you free those emotions when U can, i needed emotion displays and heartfelt trimmers, thrilling or killing, I needed to do them as if my life depended on it, and I haven't realised it back then, but my life was dependent on them, even when I had 'no talent ' , as I have always been told.

(commissioned by precious Julia ♥️🖤)

And besides drawing my needs, I actually, physically, started to feel better when I didn't do what my body said it literally can't do, all my life:

-Walked away from my guardians arguments, my chest stabbing pains became less frequent.

Stopped "practicing" my voice &/or facial expressions, I talk for 2 minutes, immediately my whole face muscles hurt, voice is cracking and gone, I don't feel like my eyebrows hurt as much. I'm okay being the monotone no expresso train c:

-stopped eating what I "don't like" (I mean it's not like I have much choice, but stopped feeling guilty over refusing it cuz food be tight) Nd now I can actually drink more water, and my tummy aches are on lower levels now

-i stopped dealing with Discord, or group chats in general cuz I don't expect accommodation over things I can't deal with. Stopped stressing over doing engaging material that no body seems to care about, cuz I'm not a good judge of demand, or stressing over either I should be thanking everyone who spams me with likes or not, (while I appreciate it to the moon) 90% of the time they don't respond Nd Im forced to think like I've done something wrong. I'm now at more ease with posting — (literally I have to fight the urges to delete my socials daily) just with interacting with who addresses me (I lov U guys sm) and I've been more relaxed from it.

I returned to "speaking in riddles" cuz if I don't use the words my brain spews no matter how weird they R, a tire will pop somewhere on the other side of an AU- idk lo'

-i rock, hum and laugh OUT my maniacal laugh, hard and strong, continued loving and talking to my plushies as I used to do, the easiest thing I could do to feel calmer again. As everyone should do

.. I stopped saying the word sorry. It's a naughty Mani era.

Accepting these facts and many, even with having no will to live had me saner than I ever been, at least I hope so.

I just know that I have a few to be grateful of: that I'm still here somehow, even with my dwindling income, Nd my internet not worth costing 120$± I'm always grateful for the sudden one or two commissions that keeps me here and buys me coffee and pumpkins seeds..

I still struggle horrindously with sleep. But I'm grateful at least I'm at pure ease playing games. Games been my go to media for knowing basically all based on books they were made about, like Severus and Tintin, I still play their ps1 games! Tho I got stuck on this game & their sleep has given me so much ease lo

I'm at my happy place rn, heh.

Bonus panel: ye they R hungry for that SHI- lo 🙈

And an honorary appearance of my OC with Tintin hehe

Stay safe, don't feed the overconsumption machine, don't give up on your heartstrings's stringers, don't worry— there are people who think and feel like you always between the crowds, and I'm thankful that I share the same timeline with you♥️🖤

Sweet dreams 🌃 19.2.2024

[beautifulenemychild]

KotLC one shot

*deep inhale* I’m back people! I actually wrote part of this fic as an assessment for my English class lol. I added a lot more flourishes (and I mean a lot, this used to be one sheet of A4) and actually ended it properly! I’ll put it on ao3 at some point but I do not have an account! Once my request goes thorough, i’ll put it on there :). It’s a mix of Sophie ANGST (we love our angsty girl tho!) and some sokeefe fluff :3 (he is soo protective of her, it’s adorable). It’s also Sophie’s POV (first person) fyi :) Anyway, enjoy!!

We were in flames. Again. I could almost hear fintans cruel laugh as he leaped away. The never seen Crystal he and Ruy used was still here somewhere but it would have to wait. I turned to the flames again. And that’s when they hit. Flashbacks of Oblivimyre, San Diego, Verdi and I in the Everblaze and pain. So, so much pain. Old burns reawakened and I screamed, unable to stop myself from returning to that place. Black obscured my vision and my panic flared higher. The tiny coherent part of my brain was thankful that I refused to let Dex come with us. The harsh memory of burns climbing my arms felt like new even though Mr Forkle had done so much to repair them. For all I knew, they could be real and I could have been engulfed by the roaring orange fire. Another scream fell from my lips and I thrashed, trying to rid myself of bonds that hadn’t touched me for months.

A soft, blue breeze streaked across my consciousness but it wasn’t enough. The shade of blue was almost exactly the same as Fintan’s trademark, balefire and it only racked by body with more panic, pain and fear. More blue breezes ran across my mind, this time tempered with green and building to a gale pulling me together. It wasn’t a destructive hurricane, but a mending one, pulling me together and finally clearing my vision from the blackness. My frantic screams eased as did my trashing although I still trembled fiercely, fighting to keep the monster inside at bay. I cursed myself for letting Flori stay at home before remembering that Grady and Edaline would be left unprotected should she have left.

Tears ran through my eyelashes, coming thick and fast as the monster replayed more terrifying scenes from my past. Eternalia falling, Oblivimyre again but this time when we found Kenric missing, Oralie, Forkle’s death and Keefe running away. That’s what hurt most. 

‘He left you’ the voice in my head whispered ‘He left you and didn’t care that you nearly shattered. He only pretends to care to take advantage of you.’

More sobs shuddered through me and the teal breezes could only do so much. Everything was a blur, but why could I not feel rough, painful asphalt beneath me? Now I was a little more focussed, my head began to clear and I could hear something. A name. My name. 

‘Foster. Foster. FOSTER. FOSTER. FOSTER PLEASE. PLEASE SOPHIE. Sophie snap out of it, please. SOPHIE! FOSTER! LADY FOS-BOSS! Foster come on, wake up!’

I could feel shaking hands now, holding me. One on my back, one clutching my ungloved hand. At last, my eyes cleared properly and I could see. Keefe leaned over me, worry and fear distorting his features as he cradled me. He somehow still managed to look amazing, even while terrified and panicked. 

‘Keefe?’ I whispered hoarsely. 

‘Sophie. Thank the stars. I thought-‘ his voice broke. ‘I thought I lost you again.’ He sounded so scared and almost heartbroken. ‘Never mind. I knew it was a mistake letting you come here with- with him. Come on, I’m taking you back to Havenfield.’ Keefe sounded angry now. Protective. He started to pull me properly into his arms, as if he knew I was too weak to support myself. 

‘No. Keefe, stop. I’m not going back home yet. I have to help. There could be humans here, I have to save them. The never seen don’t get to kill people just because I can’t handle a bit of fire like a weak little girl.’ I protested weakly but the determination in my words was there. 

Keefe’s jaw locked. ‘You are in no shape to go rushing around saving people. Now, I don’t know what just happened but I do know that it was their fault. I didn’t know whether you would snap out of it, Sophie! You were thrashing around with your eyes wide open and screaming. It was all I could do to keep you from falling and hurting yourself more. And don’t say that you’re fine. I’m an empath, remember. I can feel everything you’re feeling right now and there were a few minutes where I didn’t know whether the panic and guilt would consume you. Let me help you for once. I’m trying to keep you safe and NOT SHATTERED’ he shouted the last words and I could see the regret in his eyes as I flinched. 

‘They don’t get to control me, Keefe. I can take care of my own sanity. I know my limits.’ I was stronger now, the breezes he was still sending me helped too. He was right though, I was still shaking badly and I likely needed medical attention based on the pain I could feel blossoming in my arm and head. Either way, pain or no pain, I was still conscious so I was still able to help in some way. 

‘Foster, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You’ve been working yourself to the ground these past few weeks and I can tell you haven’t been sleeping either.’ He was right, of course. The nightmares had been unbearable and anytime I tried to sleep they always woke me within the hour. My dark circles definitely were in a league of their own despite the makeup I had been applying to cover them and not worry anybody. Keefe could always tell. 

‘And the way you just looked away from me confirms it. Sophie, please, you need to rest. You need Elwin. I’m guessing you’ve been avoiding him so that he wouldn’t notice how little you’ve been sleeping? I know it’s hard but please, you have to take care of yourself before you can save everyone else. And before you say anything, Marella is trying to contain the flames now and Fitz hailed Alden. He should be here any second with quicksnuff (?) and frissyn. The humans will be safe. You need Elwin’ he repeated. I hadn’t noticed before but fear was laced through his words. Keefe was scared. But for what? And then it clicked. He was scared of losing me. That made me feel even worse, I hated people worrying because of me. 

I hid behind my hair, embarrassed. 

‘No. I have to stay, make sure that we didn’t miss anything. I’m not letting innocent humans  be in danger because of me. And I thought you would understand, Keefe, I can’t let them control me like this! I can’t be just a defenceless little moonlark who collapses every time she sees fire.’ I replied, aware of how insufferably stubborn I was being. 

Keefe sighed mixed with an annoyed growl in the back of his throat. He did know, though. So he helped me back up to my feet and held me close, tenderly kissing my forehead. ‘I’m taking you straight to the healing centre after this, my stubborn Lady Fos-Boss.’

This time, I sighed ‘Fine, Lord Hunkyhair.’

Keefe cracked a smile at that. It was small, but enough. Strength suddenly coursed through me and my knees buckled slightly. Keefe curled his arm around my waist and looked around to see who was responsible. 

‘Don’t worry, it’s just Fitz. He’s sending me a bit of energy.’ I said to calm him. 

Keefe nodded. 

I heard running footfalls behind me and I turned, throwing stars already in hand, half expecting to find another member of the never seen or a rouge ogre. 

Fitz smirked as he slowed to stand by us. 

‘Did I miss the Sokeefe snuggle fest?’ He teased. 

It relaxed me to see him joke about me and Keefe. 

‘Aww, do you feel left out Fitzy? Come here, I’ll give you a cuddle,’ Keefe replied, leaning towards him but not letting go of my hand. 

Fitz laughed and took a step back ‘Noo way loverboy! Dad will be here in a minute, he’s trying to find a crystal where we are. Sophie, I’m guessing you have quicksnuf?’

I handed him the cube that I’d forced Dex to make me after our last disastrous training session. Thank goodness for Sandor’s quick thinking. 

Fitz’s smile faded as he noticed something on my arm. ‘Uhh, what happened?’ He said, gesturing to my right arm. 

‘What do you mea-‘ I glanced over at my arm and saw a bruise the size of my face covering my forearm. ‘Whoa. Keefe, I think I get why you were freaking out now.’ 

Fitz scrunched his brow ‘Why was Keefe freaking out? He never freaks out?’ 

Keefe raised his eyebrows and glanced quickly at me. 

‘Oh. I’ll ask later.’ Fitz mumbled. ‘Anyway, Marella is trying her best but the fire won’t obey her and she doesn’t know why.’

I cursed. ‘Of COURSE he thought of everything. Ughh! Fitz, throw the cube, would you?’

He nodded and hurled the box right into the middle of the inferno. 

Powder exploded everywhere and a disgruntled screech sounded from the flames. 

All three of us winced as Marella shouted ‘YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME IDIOTS!’ 

‘Sorry!’ I called back. It wasn’t all bad though, the raging flames were finally calming. 

‘Thank god the quicksnuff worked’ I whispered, leaning against Keefe. 

‘And now, we are going to Elwin.’ He said, gently pulling me closer and planting a kiss on my forehead. 

‘Ughh fiiiiiine’ I groaned, but I didn’t move this time. 

[poetesmorts]

Letter for the dead

Warning/s: a little bit of angst, slight mentions of grief, homophobia, death.

Word count: 849

A/N: happy one year for this account!! i finally had the motivation to write something. requests are open! enjoy :)

December 15th

Dear Neil,

I didn’t even get to say goodbye. I regret not having the chance to hold you for the first time and describe to you the things I was nervous about. My consciousness bears millions of regrets with me, this one will haunt me evermore.

I used to overhear people say they want to repeat the day before an incident, over again. Their feelings were unknown to me. I was vain, indifferent. Now, destiny showed me what they went through. The Universe would bless me if a genie would come to me one day to grant me a wish. I'd say I’d love to have one more day with you, only the two of us. We deserved one.

I should’ve asked before. The guilt I express currently would be more tolerable. You think you have the whole time on your hands. Then something shifts in the wind. It alters the timeline. How cruel can the minutes be? They pass, even though we implore them to stop, so we can linger the moments we experience. I did want to spend more time with you. I promise you that. My words couldn’t aid me.

I fear I will forget your gentle voice, your radiant face. The picture of the way you used to laugh and light the room more than candles will wither. A lack will be that of how you used to recite poems to me every night before bed. All the memories owned with you will fade. It’s my worst thought when I lay in bed. I rather stay awake, reliving my moments with you than going to sleep. Even there you appear in my dreams. It's the only way I can still hear you call my name. Remember when I had nightmares. You welcomed me in your bed and made me feel safe. I live my nightmare, and you are nowhere to calm my restlessness. Do you recognize the times when I cried in the middle of the night and you were there to wipe the tears on my face? My handkerchief dries them off instead, because your hands are somewhere unreachable. I will not be able to recall the images, yet my brain will deep-bury the evidence that you existed. My biggest concern will show itself. I will grow old. The things we did will burn out. None of us will tell the story we had to write. I wish I could at least have a piece of your something to help me see that, even if you aren’t here, your soul lives. I’m sorry if I do forget you.

The world is a beast. A survival of such an act would be a scandal and you would have hurt yourself more. It wouldn’t have allowed you to heal from the wounds, nor would it have let me speak. I accept the fact you’re gone, I can’t do anything about it, but here, on paper, I can confess and pretend you’re reading it. I love you, Neil. I always have. After the play, I planned on showing you who my heart beats for. I wanted to bring you to the cave, read you the poem I wrote for you. Your father was an obstacle. He took you away. I ensured myself to do it the next day. It was the worst idea I have ever had. So much love in my veins only for it to evaporate. Where we live, my darling, they would have executed our love. I couldn't care less. I would have risked my life for you to squeeze me in your arms. My life would have not been worthy if you didn't kiss the rivers my eyes drained. We would have run away, far, far away, where you wanted. I didn't believe the myth of first sight love. My unbelief cursed me. The things we had together sank me in forever longing. It's not the time to love a ghost, nor the remains. You're a photograph. You are the wind hitting my window. You're the snow I bury myself into. You're the missing piece I need. You're the flock of clouds hugging my street. I regret not telling you sooner... I fall in love every day with the objects of reality that embrace you. They also stab me as I remind myself I can't tell you the three holy words. You left for a place where you can be the actor you desire to be. I am surrounded by the sorrow of your passing, but at least I am happy you can have what you merit - peace.

Though you will not write back, wait for me instead! The day where we will hold each other without shame will come! We will enjoy our home there... I hope you rest well until then. When I become ashes, stand by the nearest pond. You will see me have a bouquet of forget-me-nots in my hands. It will be for you. I meant every word in this letter. I love you.

Yours,

Todd

[song-for-the-seasons]

TW: death, Mother’s Day, parent death, abuse, hospital, medicine,

Mother’s Day was Sunday. It kind of snuck up on me. I was actually okay all of the day. Put flowers on her grave. Looked at pictures of her. Read her letters to me. I thought maybe it was getting easier until yesterday I was so wiped out I slept all day. And then I had dreams about her last night. Not bad ones. Just dreams where I was young and she was just being my mom.

As I move through adulthood I begin to understand her perspective and wish we could have had the parent-child relationship into adulthood. I wish I could’ve been out of the reach of her abuse and sat with it and forgiven her while she was alive. She had narcissistic personality disorder and probably some level of sociopathy, something that my therapist has only realized now that she’s gone. She was unable to show empathy and it must have frustrated her that she couldn’t. She must’ve been running herself in circles trying to figure out how to love and support me when she just didn’t know how. She didn’t know how. I wish we could’ve sat down and I could’ve said “stop pushing yourself so hard, we’ll figure out how to communicate our love in another way. I know it’s there. We’ll figure it out.” But she was taken right on the cusp of that understanding. I thought she hated me. She was just loving me the only way she knew how and it never got through. I’m not sure my love ever got through to her either. I pushed myself through school and wrung myself inside out graduating summa cum laude to show her I loved her. I don’t think it ever got through that I pushed myself so hard for her because I loved her. She said I stressed her out and that the stress of me existing would kill her. And then a month later she died. I *know* logically I didn’t kill her, but it’s the thought that she might have believed it that haunts me at night. I think that even though I gave up my life to follow the path she chose for me, gave up my friends and hobbies and interests and identity and sexuality to please her and show her how devoted I was, I think she thinks I killed her. I think she thinks as she laid there dying the fact I knew enough about medicine but couldn’t save her meant I wanted her to die. I tried to save her, I did everything I could. I stayed up 3 days straight and didn’t eat and held her right hand and comforted her. The nurses almost admitted me to the ER because I lost the ability to stand from being weak. They couldn’t pull me away from her. My body was so wracked with stress. All I could do was watch her monitor while she slept and watch her stats slowly drop. She was in so much pain she’d cry out randomly and I’d call for a nurse and they’d administer a cocktail of pain meds at once until her whimpers stopped. She told me years prior that if this ever happened, to never give her all those pain meds that knock her out. But she screamed and cried and even though she was barely lucid when I’d look in her eyes and ask her if she wanted pain meds she’d nod and whimper and I couldn’t tell her no. She started having brain damage and I watched her consciousness slip away. She was gasping for air and making a gurgling sound which I only found out was a death rattle weeks later. Did I kill her by administering the pain meds? Did she die still holding animosity towards me? After she passed I quit the career she chose for me, shaved my hair, pierced my ears and nose and nipples and did everything she said not for me to do, out of the sheer anger that she went and died on me. I was 24. It was a month before my wedding day. I needed my mom. I still need my mom. Does she hate me in the afterlife? Does she see how much better I’m doing without constant fear of abuse and hate me for it? Sometimes the guilt outweighs the joy of my freedom. I’m doing my dream job, I have bodily autonomy, I’m out, and I can make my own choices without her approval. Does she see that and hate that for me? Does she see me laugh and smile with my friends in a way I haven’t in my entire life and resent me? Does she see me have a stable relationship with my dad and sister now that she’s gone (something she worked very hard to negate) and get enraged? Is there an afterlife? Does it matter?

I put flowers on her grave and said hi. I wish I could’ve done more. I wish I could fix it. It kills me I can’t.

[confrontthefamiliar]

full moon in cancer 1.6.23

How funny now

To cry and remember

How this wasn’t supposed to mean that much

How it was all supposed to be about getting out of credit card debt

And then maybe becoming a Buddhist nun

How funny now

To see everyones’ faces and hate them

And know it’s only because I’m sad

Like that time in Chicago when my brain was so broken that I thought everyone was my enemy

How funny that I can give so much love and warmth to strangers

When inside me a river is running over carcasses

There’s so much carnage

But it feels so hollow

How funny to wander among the diseased

Noticing my own sicknesses

At the restaurant where I serve I see miserable workers

In the rich people I drive around the mountains I see misery

A new level of hopelessness I’ve found

Like picking up only broken pieces of glass

But I can see outside myself from this cracked window pane

I still wonder at the consciousness

At the things that are happening now

“B-rad, never sad!”

Is what a coworker at my driving job says to his passengers

When I first heard him I was creeped out but why not let some people never be sad?

I know my propensity towards the sadder emotions is just a disposition anyways.

I’d really like to break that pattern and quit romanticizing my sadness anyways.

I’d really like to stop seeking love and instead give it to others without expecting anything back.

How funny that

I’ve been learning the same lesson for the past two years like it wasn’t loud enough the first time

That just weeks before falling, I told my friend that one shouldn't fall in love but build it

How funny that

I thought I could grow while still putting all my energy into romance like I could tiptoe out of my shadow

How funny that

I’ve gone through all these explanations

On why this heartbreak had to happen

On why this pain is good for me

How funny that

I can laugh at myself when I’m so sad

[pockcock]

No thoughts. Pussy dwelling on Erwin's fingers edging you until you're a begging mess though. (Because let's face it, we all know the calluses on his hands feel like heaven when his tongue eases the feeling soon after-)

"whore mouth" // erwin smith x f!reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

word count: 2.4k

a/n: Oh god I'M SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG I'M SORRY I'M SORRYYYY :( This was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away... Anyways. ENJOY <3

tw// porn with very little plot. impact play. slapping. jealous!erwin. sugardaddy!erwin. dom!erwin. sadist!erwin. edging. cunnilingus. breath play. dumbification. spitting. forced orgasm. slight blood. squirting. clit slapping. slight consensual non-con (reader and erwin have a dom/sub relationship). prey-predator if you squint. usage of "whore, slut, bitch". aftercare.

Erwin isn't the jealous type in your eye. He is a confident man, he is fierce. He is the CEO of the Corps Ltd. after all. He isn't jealous, people are jealous of him.

But the look he gave you at the party made you lose your ability to breathe.

He bought this black silk dress for you a couple of weeks ago. It arrived at your door by his assistant, Armin, a pretty young boy. He reminded you of Erwin, only young and naive. You felt incredible in the fabric, it felt as if the dress was made for you and you only. Everything was right about the dress. But you didn't have any opportunity to wear it. Until tonight.

"Here we are, madam," Armin spoke, his eyes met yours from the rearview mirror. It was obvious that he was having a hard time keeping his eyes away from your beautifully exposed chest and perky nipples showing through the dress. "Mr. Smith is waiting for you inside."

You thanked him and carefully got out of the car not letting your dress go even higher. As you entered the hotel where the party was being hosted, your eyes found your pretty CEO. Surrounded by his close friends Miche and Levi, he was laughing. He was wearing his brand new black Hermes set with a gold detailed Versace tie. Then he saw you, his whole expression changed. The bright, playful eyes turned into loving ones.

"My sunshine," he greeted you with open arms, calling you in. "She is finally here!"

You walked towards him. "Traffic hold me hostage!"

A little laugh escaped his lips as he hugged you. But his words were far far away from his laugh. "Why the fuck are you wearing that?"

You hugged him, hiding your surprised and sad face in his neck. "I-I thought you'd enjoy it..."

He let you go, fixed your hair a bit. Cupping your cheeks, he said: "We'll talk about it when we go home, okay? Now let's enjoy our party." And, uh, what a bastard he is, to put the smile back into your face, he added. "You're looking like a swan."

And the rest of the night was almost perfect. Erwin introduced you as "My cup of sunshine!" to his friends, co-workers, business partners. He complimented you, let others compliment you and he even let Miche steal you for the dance and touch your bareback with his enormous hands. He let Zeke kiss your hand which was decorated by the ring Erwin gave. Everything went smoothly.

And yet, here you were, in front of him. Couldn't even look at his face because of the humiliation and mockery he possessed in his eyes.

"Tell me, princess. Why did you wear that?" he asked, emphasizing the word 'that'.

"I'm sorry-"

Your head went to your right with the impact. Your left cheek was burning and you were in shock. Did he slap you?

"I'm not asking for your apology. I'm asking for the reason."

You lifted your head, eyes filled with fear. "I-"

Another slap. This one hurt more than the other. "Stop this fucking nonsense and answer me." His voice was calm, steady. It contained no anger or fury.

"I thought..." A tear left your eye, you wiped it with the back of your hand. "I thought y-you'd like it."

Another slap. "Did you get the note I sent with the dress? I remember putting it into the box myself. I even attached it to the dress with an anklet. Remember?"

"Yes."

Another slap, you fell onto the ground. "What did it say?"

A sob left your lips. "I-I don't..."

"You don't what, princess?" He kneeled down. He grabbed your chin, lifting it up and looking directly into your teary eyes. "Tell me."

" I don't remember!" You screamed it out. Humiliation now took over your body, making you ache in pain. It was also creating a pool between your legs. "I don't remember, Erwin! I'm so-"

Another slap. "You don't get to say my name tonight." He took his jacket off, then his tie, he threw both across the room. He talked as he rolled his sleeves up. “You don’t deserve to say my name with that whore mouth.”

He yanked your hair making you scream in pain, he slammed you into the wall. The photos fell down, shattered. His rough hands ripped the dress’ straps, making it fall onto the floor, pooling around your feet. “I bought this for my eyes. My pleasure.” He slapped your right breast harshly. “You are mine.” He pinched your cheeks together, making you open your mouth. “That’s what I wrote, stupid whore.” He spitted onto your tongue, it tasted like whiskey and cigar. Then he covered your mouth and your nose, not letting you breathe. “Swallow.”

You did as he said. How couldn’t you?

“Open your mouth, tongue out.” He let go of your mouth, wanted to see your mouth empty. You inhaled in relief, brain too hazy to understand anything. He slapped you again. “Open your fucking mouth.”

“Erwin!” You screamed with pain again.

He laughed and let your hair go, you fell down with the sudden movement. “Your stupid brain can’t understand a word I say, right?” He grabbed you by the neck, lifting your fragile body up. “What are you good for? Oh, right! Being a whore, now I remember.”

You grabbed his forearm, nails digging into his skin. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything. You tried to push him away but he didn’t budge. The worst part wasn’t him being harsh with you. It was him being calm as usual, never shouting, never talking with clenched teeth. Even his damn expression was calm. His damn eyebrows weren’t furrowed. That scared you.

“Stop,” he said, pushing your hands away with a harsh move. You made his arms bleed a little. He looked at you unimpressed. “You never understand, do you?”

He took you to your shared bedroom, threw you onto the bed. You tried to get away, silly you, where could you go. Your makeup was a mess, mascara running down onto your cheeks as your tears left your eyes, painting your face black. Crying loudly, you screamed once more. “Please! Please don’t!” You tried to stop him. “Daddy please!”

He choked you, again, harsher this time. You held onto his arms, wishing he would let you breathe just once. Slammed your weak body into the mattress, he ripped your panties. “You’re begging me not to do anything, yet you’re soaking like a fucking slut.” Without warning, he pushed his thick middle and ring finger inside you. “See? You take my fingers like a slut too!” Amusement coated his tone. “You either want my fingers or my dick. You just want to be my pocket pussy, right, slut?” He was pounding into you like there was no tomorrow, wet noises filled the room. “Stupid whore.”

Your eyes rolled back. Everything was too much. Too much pleasure, too much pain, too little air. Your brain was shutting down slowly, you couldn’t think straight. You wanted to kiss him, wanted to beg him to fuck you with his huge cock. Wanted him to take you then and there, without preparation. Yet, the only thing you could do was to moan, like a stupid whore. His voice echoed in your brain. You got closer, his fingers curled inside you, finding that pretty spot. It was too much?

“You’re cumming already?” He mocked, his pace quickened. “You won’t. Hold it.”

Your fingernails once again found the little cuts they made previously, digging even harder as the pleasure built up. You were losing consciousness due to the lack of oxygen in your body. You couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hold your orgasm, couldn’t stop him.

Erwin felt your orgasm before you. He pulled his hands away from you. “Open your legs. Ruin it. Don’t cum.”

You couldn’t.

The pleasure hit you, hit your body like a truck. With the sudden feeling of air coming into your lungs, your legs started trembling. Your whole body clenched, shaking like your vibrator Erwin bought you for your birthday. Your eyes snapped open and you felt something coming out of your cunt, wetting your legs, the bed and Erwin in front of you. You squirted.

“Fuck…” You heard Erwin cursing under his breath. His pants were soaking wet.

“D-Daddy...” You reached out for him, eyes barely functioning after the intense orgasm. “I-I’m sorry, I co-uldn’t hold it… I couldn't ruin it!”

He tsked. “Princess, what have you done?”

Your eyes filled with tears once again. You were slowly regaining your ability to think. “Daddy... I’m sorry…”

He sat next to you, pushed the hair from your face. “Shh, don’t talk…” He cupped your cheeks. “Maybe I was a bit too harsh for you.” He leaned down to kiss your puffy lips. “But you still need to be punished baby.”

Before you could protest, he spanked your clit.

“You were being a whore today.” Spank. “And you were also being a bad girl.” Spank. “You didn’t listen to me.” Spank. “But now,” Spank. “You’ll be cumming from this.”

You did. You didn’t know you could. But you did. And he didn’t stop.

“Daddy! S-Stop! I’ve come already” You tried to close your legs, the pleasure was turning into pain with each slap. “Can’t take it! Daddy I’m cumming!”

“Yes, babygirl,” He whispered. His eyes were locked into your, his pupils had expanded. “You’re cumming again. And you’ll be cumming again. And again. Until I’m done with you.”

“Daddy!”

His spanks became even faster and harder, hitting that sensitive bud throbbing in a mixture of pain and pleasure. When you opened your mouth to moan, he spitted onto your tongue once again. “Don’t swallow. Stick your tongue out, slut,” he said as his other hand caressed your hair. “Let yourself drool like a stupid whore.” His words, his actions… Everything was so complicated. Making you feel even more stupid.

After cumming another four times you were a drooling, dripping mess. You were lost your sight. Everything was spinning, the ceiling, Erwin in front of you, and you. Your breaths were unsteady, you couldn’t even hear your heartbeat because of its speed.

Erwin patted your cheek. “Don’t faint on me now, bitch.”

“D-Daddy…”

He smiled. “Shh, princess. I know.” His hands came down on your face to wipe your tears away. “I’m proud of you.” He kissed your forehead. “Now, I’m going to eat you out, ‘kay? I wanna taste my pretty pocket pussy.”

You squinted your eyes to see him. Your eyes filled with tears once again. Your makeup was already ruined and smudged into the sheets. “Please daddy! I can’t take-”

“Shut up, baby.” He stood up, got between your legs and pulled you towards his face. Erwin loved your pussy so much, he could live in there forever. He inhaled the heavenly scent and licked your slit, drinking everything you offered. “It’s my pussy and I chose to do whatever I want.”

You tried to push him, kick him away. Nothing worked. Erwin Smith, ate your pussy like it was his last day on earth. He ate your cum, drank your juices, sucked on your clit and fucked you with his tongue. His face was sweaty, his perfect hair stuck onto his forehead. His naked chin was now coated with your nectar. He made you cum again, leaving you breathless, sucking your soul out of your body. He made you cum, made you squirt onto his face. He was pussy drunk, couldn’t let you go. Couldn’t stop sucking your clit. He loved the way your legs trembled after each orgasm. He loved the way you screamed “Daddy!” first and when he didn’t stop you screamed “Erwin!”. He loved the way you babble nonsense trying to apologize from him. Stupid slut, he thought. And ate you out until your whole body went numb.

When he was finally done, both of you were panting. You were barely awake, holding onto nothing but trying your best not to lose consciousness. Erwin was tired, tired from eating you out, fingering you and taking your soul away from you. He got up, laid right next to you. He adored this sight; you, completely fucked up and ruined. He did this without putting his cock in you. He was proud.

“Are you with me princess?” He whispered into the night. He was being cautious.

You nodded weakly.

“Good girl,” he said. Kissed your forehead slowly he cupped your cheeks. “Can you give me a color baby?” You were using a color system alongside your safeword. It was for your safety.

“Y-Yellow…” Your voice was hoarse after all the screaming.

He furrowed his brows. He was too harsh on you. “I’m sorry, kitten.” He carefully flipped you onto your side, hugging your back tightly, he kissed your shoulder. “I was too harsh on you. I’m so sorry baby.”

A sob escaped your lips. “But you didn’t cum…”

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay. You’ve done so well. I got pleasure from your pleasure. I'm not important. You are. Your pleasure is. You did so well. So well baby. That’s what is important. I got you now, okay? I’ll never let you go. You’re my everything. I got you. I’ll never leave you.”

You stayed there, tangled together for a long time. Erwin kissed your shoulders, back and hair, his calloused hands caressed your arms. When the extreme pleasure made you clench again, he hugged you tighter, whispering. “Calm down, baby. I got you.” He made sure you were fully okay after your intense session.

“D-Daddy?”

His heart shattered into thousand pieces after hearing that tone in your voice. “You can say my name baby, it’s over now.”

“Erwin,” you said almost hesitantly. “C-Can I go to the bathroom? I need to pee.”

His eyes snapped open. Right, you had to. “Yes baby, let me take you there.” He took you into his arms bridal style. “And we’ll take a bath, I really want to try that lavender bath bomb you bought. Is that okay baby?”

You snuggled into his shirt, it was still wet after your countless orgasms.

After you were done with everything, you were in your marble bathtub with Erwin. A purple color was prominent in the water, making you feel safe. You leaned into his chest filled with little patches of thin gold hair even more. He was your home.

“Erwin?” you asked, melting into his touches.

“Yes, princess?”

“How many times did I cum?” You asked, lifted your head to look at him. You loved that expression. You could see surprise, confusion, calculation and answer in seconds.

“Thirty..” he furrowed his thick brows, he was counting. “Thirty-nine.” Then he realized what he said. His eyes opened up with amazement. “Oh.”

“Yeah..” you said, a chuckle left your chest.

“We broke our record!”

taggings: @maries-gallery @st-arlert (you have to read this baby, no escapes) @azazelles

[serendipitous-magic]

What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

-_-_-_-

1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

_-_

2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

_-_

3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

_-_

4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

_-_

5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

_-_

6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

_-_

7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

_-_

8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

_-_

9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

_-_

10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

_-_

11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery. 

_-_

12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

_-_

13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

_-_

14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

_-_

15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

_-_

16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story. 

It also informs character behavior and personality. 

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

[hotwings0203]

Bully!Dabi pt. 3

Tags: @shikamaruscumrag @pinkiy13l @an-ambivalent @luno614 @sukunasleftkneecap

Tw:dubcon, noncon, bullying, manipulation, Russian roulette

“Doll? Come on out and I won’t hurt you too bad.”

You wait with bated breath as he walks right past your hiding place behind some crates, blue fire licking up the sides of his body and held in the palms of his scarred hands.

He’s mad, you know he is. He’s teasing you, of course he is, why else wouldn’t he just turn on the lights and pounce?

No, this is another punishment of sorts. A punishment for escaping your previous punishment from being locked in your room.

Another lash of burning cobalt strikes against a wall about 10 feet away from you, and you curse yourself internally. If only you had just stayed in bed a couple days more, if only you hadn’t snuck out when he left, if only, if only…

“Baaaabbyyyyy”

It sounds so wrong and uncharacteristic coming out from his gravely voice.

You huddle your limbs even closer to yourself, paying no mind to the cramping in your knees from being squished for so long.

It’s been about 25 minutes or so from what you can remember. It’s hard to remember anything that happened this bland morning anyways when the climax of your life was seemingly taking place here, after you entered the wrong room.

You had honestly just wanted a peek outside of Dabi’s room and maybe a drink of water, nothing more.

Or so you tell yourself.

But can you really be blamed? Who else wouldn’t have run out the moment they got a chance after spending almost two weeks in the same shitty room, being used as fuckmeat and only given bread scraps and salty cum as meals.

It didn’t matter how close he held you at night, how his strokes seemed to brush up against all the right places, how he tried catching your eye every time he wanted to talk about anything (which you would never really indulge in, only giving him a soft grunt or a nod). He was a monster, a demon in disguise that was keeping you against your will in his clutches.

A loud crash closer than before hits your ears, and you stifle an impending whimper. You can tell he’s roamed closer than before, finding nothing from his earlier place in the front of the storage room.

“I’m getting pretty fucking tired of repeating myself doll. You must be even more of a masochist than I thought since it’s like you want me to fuck you up even worse than I did before.”

His words are quiet but they do enough to cause a loud beating in your already-pacing heart, so loud in fact that you fear he can hear it racing a mile a minute.

You wonder if anyone is nearby, if they even remember you’ve been missing for a while now.

“Y/N”

“Come out, pretty girl. You know I miss you”

But you don’t miss him.

What you do miss, however, is not being chased into an empty storage room and hounded like a fucking dog. You miss joking with Twice, painting your nails with Toga, making Shigaraki chuckle.

All of a sudden, the crate next to you is covered with hellfire. The flames that are thrust from Dabi’s hands are so wild that they seat through your shirt and prick your skin.

You scream and scrabble backwards, the light of his fire illuminating his face leering up above you in the dark like a ghoul from a children’s book.

You clap your hands over your mouth, ignoring your bubbling skin as fear overrides premonition, but the damage has already been done.

It’s eerily quiet for a minute. Then, he whispers,

“Found you”

Even in the pitch black room you can practically see him lunging towards you, and you scuttle backwards on your hands and feet in terror. His hands miss your bare feet by a few inches, and he snarls before making another swipe.

“Fucking bitch, this is the thanks I get for taking care of you, bathing you, feeding and fucking you?”

You yelp as he lights up the floor on both sides of your trembling body, and you see his figure once more as the blue fire shows the sick grin twisted up on his face.

“Leave me alone,” you sob, clambering up on your feet and running backwards as he advances on you. The smoke from his quirk is filling the room, and you erupt in hoarse coughs as it’s filtered through your aching lungs.

Everything about him is toxic.

“Nah. That’s not how this works sweetheart. You see, I take care of you, and in return, you do whatever the fuck I say when I say it.”

He raises his palms to you and you flinch, covering your head and colliding with the wall behind you. You’re too scared and tired to evade him again as you feel his body cover you and brush against yours as you shake in place, your arms still above your face.

He cooes at you. “There there, my stupid little bitch. You were scared daddy was gonna hurt you, right?”

His stitched palm caresses your bitten bottom lip and trails up to your tear-stained cheek.

After a moment of you saying nothing, he slaps the side of your face, hard, and you gasp in pain. Now it wasn’t just your stomach that felt on fire.

“I asked you a question, you brain dead whore. Are you scared daddy’s gonna burn you? ‘You scared he’s gonna beat you black you blue? ‘Scared he’s gonna cut a gaping hole in your burnt tummy and fuck the gash?” He leans in and lets his raspy words settle over your ears as he tenderly brushes your hair away from it. He softly kisses the shell of you ear, and when you sob quietly he wraps his arms around your middle and hugs you close, paying no heed to how you uncomfortably squirm when your raw torso burns from the contact.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try not to inhale too much, lest the smoke embedded all over his body gets too close for comfort in your system.

“Y-yes daddy. Please don’t hurt me, I was…a bad girl.” You cringe when the words are wobbled out, but you know it’s what he wants.

To humiliate you, to hurt you. Who was he kidding when he said he loved you?

Dabi, however, feels butterflies in his own stomach.

See, this is what you need. To answer to Daddy, to submit to him so that he can take care of you. That’s why you stayed so long in his room, right? It’s cause you knew it would make him happy if you listened to him. You let him make love to you, and treat you like his little girl because deep down, you know this is where you belong.

So why are you fighting him? You never raised a complaint for a week and a half, you only stayed quiet and kept your eyes shut when he asked if you were okay. That means you liked it, right? No real opposition, after all.

Except for now.

Dani is honestly disappointed in you right now, you were doing so well…so why’d you have to go and ruin it?

He might’ve softened from the way your body shakes and your sobs are muffled by his smoke-scorched jacket as you press against him for comfort, but the image of you turning around and running away when you saw him earlier hurts him too much.

It angers him.

Why the fuck were you so scared? Hasnt he shown you enough that he loved you? What, does he need to fucking spell it out for you?

Why were your eyes filled with such terror when he caught you? Did you turn away from him and run because you thought he was going to make you look like him, all burnt up and hideous?

Honestly, he would never, but if you’re so hellbent on making him the bad guy, then fine, he’ll play the bad guy.

Anything for his precious little girl.

And so he tightens his arms around you and chuckles cruelly when you whine at the lack of air.

“Well, you were right. I am pretty pissed, I mean I told you to come out and you didn’t listen right?”

“S-sorry,” you weakly choke out.

He laughs even more crazed now, crushing your ribs so tight he could actually hear your breath wheezing out of you, could feel your weak little punches against his back.

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. No no, I want you to beg for your fucking life now.”

Your eyes widen as his arms begin to warm up and become unbearably hot.

“Dabi, no, no please!”

You writhe in pain as he cackles above you, savoring the choked breaths that emit from your wetted lips.

As soon as you begin to see spots, he releases you, and flings you against the corner of the room.

You go flying and bang your head against the concrete wall, his voice muted and swimming around in your ears as you fight for consciousness.

He saunters towards you in all his flaming glory, hands in his pockets as if he were walking out for some fresh air. He crouches in front of you and lifts your head with the pads of his fingers.

“Awww, my poor little girl. That had to have hurt, huh? You’re bleeding,” he cooes and blows a strand of hair away from your eyes.

He’s not lying, you can feel hot blood trickle down the side of your head as your vision sways.

“Stop this,” you pant. “I get it, I’m sorry- you were right and I was wrong, I shouldn’t have ran. I’ll listen to you from now on-“

“-But you said that last time, didn’t you?” He cocks his head and with the light of his turquoise fire against the shadows of the room, he looks like a being from hell itself.

“Remember? When you sucked me off like the dirty whore you are? Remember that you stupid cunt?” His grin becomes more reminiscent of a wolf baring its fangs, and you’re rendered silent in complete terror.

He takes your silence as an encouraging factor to continue his fun.

“You ever played Russian Roulette, Y/N?”

You have enough sense to quickly shake your head, a sinking feeling in your stomach forming at his implication.

“Me neither. But I kinda wanna try it right now. So, back against the wall. Stand up straight and spread your legs.”

You look at him incredulously. “You can’t be serious Dabi.”

He raises an eyebrow and a fire grows in the palm of his hand. “Wanna find out? Oh wait, you already are- now do what I said otherwise you’ll have one less leg.”

You don’t need more motivation to act on his orders.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly spread your legs and place your palms flat against the wall.

“Spread ‘em more. That shouldn’t be anything new to you.”

You wince at his dig but continue to widen the stance between your legs.

He smiles at your compliance.

“Good. This should be fairly easy, I mean the room is already dark enough to count as having a blindfold. Whatever you do, just don’t move.”

You wouldn’t know it, but he’s sincerely saying it for your sake. He’s glad for the safety of the dark, because he doesn’t want you to see the way he hastily wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans as he prepares himself for his next move.

The room goes dark, his fire has been put out.

You inhale softly, blood pounding in your heart as your hands shake in anticipation.

Then all of a sudden, a fireball comes barreling right towards you, in between your parted legs.

You shriek and jerk, but luckily you’re saved from being singed.

“I told you not to move, babe.” He clicks his tongue and rubs his erection absentmindedly.

A second, then third bolt of fire comes at the side of your head, singing your hair and then dangerously close to your already burnt stomach.

At each one you sob and do your best not to move, not to take in Dabi’s utterly emotionless face as you wail for mercy.

The last one comes so powerful that as it strikes the wall next to you, flecks of ash sting your cheeks and lips.

Your knees are jelly, your mouth is aching from begging for your life as he wanted.

But you know he’s done when he lets out a loud yawn and groan as he stretches his arm and flexes his fingers.

“A-are we done?” You sniffle.

He says nothing at first. You just hear him ask a couple steps towards you, his boots echoing in the room. You assume he stops in front of you because you can feel his body in front of your kneeling figure.

His hand descends and feels around until he reaches the top of your head. Stroking softly, he twirls locks through his fingers and gently shushes you until your hiccups subside, and you lean your forehead against his thigh.

“‘You happy it’s done? You did so well for me, sweetheart.”

“Yes Dabi. Thank you,” you utter softly, knowing it’s what he wants to hear.

“Yeah? How thankful are you?”

You still at that.

He starts to unbuckle his belt.

You pull your head back, and he pulls his pants down.

“Dabi-“

“Shhh, don’t ruin this. Just keep your mouth shut and let your body do the talking. Show me how grateful you are that I spared your fucking life.”

The gentle way he handled you clashed with his harsh words, and you have a moment of whiplash.

He kneels down in front of you and lets his hands wander in the dark until he meets your torso.

You hiss at the sensitive flesh, but he doesn’t stop. He just moves his hand under your shirt and higher, pushing your bra up until your tits spill from the bottom of it.

He bites his lip as you whimper from his touch, his thumbs swirling around your nipples and prodding the squishy flesh.

Dabi gets more eager when you throw your head back at one particularly rough squeeze and shuffles even closer, his pants and underwear at his knees, member bouncing out in the open air.

“Take your panties off,” he rasps, furiously stroking his cock.

You surrender and slowly pull your sweats off, and then your panties as you hear him lightly panting in eagerness.

The second he hears them drop to the floor he lunges for your feet and yanks your forward, catching you in his lap as you yelp.

It’s pitch black, but he can feel you clear as day.

The tickle of your hair hanging in his face, your sweet smell clouding his rationale, the melodious sounds of fear and pleasure mixed with pain make his prick stand painfully at attention, weeping at the slit for your pussy.

He doesn’t even bother taking your shirt off in impatience, he simply barks at you to hold the hem up so he can feel your breasts bouncing against his face when he motorboats them.

You, however, shakily hold his hand at your waist when he pulls you forward until your bare hole presses against his length, coating it with light juices.

“Oh fuck, doll, your pussy’s practically begging me to fuck it. ‘You like having your life in danger? No wonder you keep fucking up,” he groans as he moved beneath you, letting his hips rock back and forth to gain friction from under you.

“Wait, go slowly-“

“No the fuck I won’t,” he interrupts. You have enough sense to bite back any retorts from the subtle growl in his words.

He lifts you up from underneath your ass, and you raise your hips in compliance as he grabs his dick, circling it around your swollen nub and then pressing it against your entrance.

You breath shakily and run your hands through his hair, not so much in a loving gesture but tightly in futile hopes to deter him in any possible way.

He takes it either way as you wanting him equally, and without further ado he slams your hips down on his whole length.

You howl in pain as he begins bouncing you, pressing down on your shoulders and forcing your poor cunt to envelope him fully at each stroke.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of your ass clapping on his dick, the mixed fluids from both of your bodies and the harmonies of his low grunts and your high pitched whines.

You can feel his dick twitch violently inside of you as he nears his climax. He flips you over on your back and starts pounding into you, laughing cruelly in your face as you cry out from the intensity of his strokes.

“D-Dabi! Pull out, I’m not on birth control!”

“Good.”

You open your eyes to stare at him in horror, barely making out the marred features of his face.

“I’m gonna fill you up with my babies. You’re gonna be plugged with my cum from now on, ‘s the only way you’ll stop running.”

“Get the fuck off me, this isn’t funny-!”

He grabs your rising fists and pins them back against the floor, crushing your wrists in the process.

“Who said I’m laughing?” And he isn’t laughing anymore, no, on the contrary he looks the most serious that he’s ever been, and that terrifies you the most.

The upper half of his body is suspended in midair above you as his pelvis smashes against your clit in a steady rhythm.

“‘Bet you’d like that, bet you’d like having all your holes stuffed with my kids. They’re gonna grow up and know how slutty their mommy was, they’re gonna watch and learn how Daddy earned his name. You think they’ll cry when they hear you scream for me?”

You want to rip out your ears from the filth pouring from his mouth, but unfortunately your hands are trapped under his grasp.

All you can do is chant “no, no, no,” under your breath as he’s pushed over the edge.

“Or maybe I’ll tie your legs against the barstools outside and let every man out there have his way with you. You missed them, right? I’m sure they missed you too, I’m sure they missed the way you’d fuck them the second they made you laugh,” bitterness seeps into his voice as ropes of cum shoot out.

He moans loudly in your ear and collapses against your body, sweat intermingling in the cervices of your entangled limbs.

It takes around three minutes for you both to catch your breaths, and for him to shakily raise himself on his elbows to peer down into your ruddy face.

“Clean yourself up. You’re going back to my room. And this time, if you try to run we’ll repeat this entire process again, but I’ll actually let everyone have their way with you. It’ll be like an orgy version of Russian Roulette, well all place bets on whose kid it is.”

You don’t miss the rest of the League, anymore

[verus-veritas]

Legacy

Revenge, Technology, Mind Transference, with a dash of unrequited love. What’s not to love? /Verus

"Dude! P-please! I'm sorry! Whatever you think I've done, it must all be a mistake!" Andew yelled, thrashing against his confinements and eyeing the only point of exit in the room. His firm muscles were wet and taut against his clothes, and his handsome face flush red with terror and worry.

"Are you really sorry though? It didn't seem like it from the way you acted during Gavin's funeral. The sneers and laughter you made as his parents said their final words to him..." I said, hiding in the shadows. Only my feet and the contours of my body was visible for him to see.

"N-no offense. I just found it funny when the parents said they wish he'd atleast gotten a girlfriend before he passed away-" The same devious sneer returned on his perfectly handsome face, as he most likely remembered the scene in his head.

"Of course you found it funny. Because you knew he was completely gay. Gay, and had a massive crush on you for ages. He literally worshipped the ground you walked on, and spent most of his waking hours wishing he could be with you." I explained, slowly walking around him as I pulled out a flimsy latex cap with electronical nodes attached to it.

"And I let him. I did no wrong." Andrew talked back. His eyes following my figure until I stood directly behind him.

"No! You lead him on, made him believe you were actually interested in him. And then you destroyed him. You are the reason he ran out of the house crying, and you are the reason he didn't see the truck speeding towards him!" My voice was shaking as I quickly slapped the cap onto his head, accidentally pulling out a few strands of his hair.

"Ouuch! Get this thing off me!" He shook his head and began thrashing about again.

"You know. He really loved you... He said he was going to make you the happiest man on earth. Showering you with gifts and undying love, and be by your side forever and ever. That's why he trusted you so wholeheartedly and let you do whatever you wanted."

"Naive..." He quietly muttered under his breath.

"He was even fine with you staring and drooling over other girls. As long as he could stay by your side."

"What a fag..." I could hear him gritting his teeth.

"But that evening when you invited him over, only to have him find you in the bedroom hooking up with a random girl... that completely ruined him. You shattered his dream, his self-confidence, and his sensitive soul! He didn't know what to do and where to go, which is why he ran straight out into the traffic..." My voice was uncontrollably going up and down now, as I was unable to hide my emotions.

"Dude only had himself to blame. He should've known I only had him around for the free stuff he bought for me." Andrew snickered, as he looked down at the expensive shorts Gavin had bought for him a few weeks prior.

"How dare you!" I tried to punch his shoulder, but knew I was too weak to do any real damage against his hard muscles.

"Y'know... it almost sounds like you had feelings for him- Wait a minute! You're that pastry white kid that always walked around with him aren't you?! Hah! 'Ghost boy' we called you!" The tone in his voice shifted - with more confidence and arrogance. Back to the way he normally talked - a manipulative bastard at heart. "I see. So you best friend Gavin never had feelings for you, and now that he's gone you blame yourself for not having stopped him."

"......" I clenched my hands till my knuckles turned white.

"Hah! Maybe you really were a horrible friend. Have you thought about that you might be the reason he's dead?" He laughed, obviously enjoying the way he was toying with my feelings.

"...you have no idea..." I mumbled, as tears began to flow down my cheeks.

"Maybe you should be the one sitting in this chair - tied up and wearing this stupid cap on your head. Hehe."

I took a deep breath and calmed myself, before walking around him once again and turning so he could see me. See the real me... one last time. "I will. Soon."

"W-what do you mean with that? And why are you also wearing that ridiculous cap?" He asked. His tone in voice once again becoming panicked and anxious.

"You see. The reason why I'm so pale is because I spend so much time at home playing with my inventions and devices. Coding is one of my favorite things to do. And for the last few months I've relentlessly been working on creating this device we're both wearing right now. It was originally only meant to be used on you, recoding the patterns in your brain into loving Gavin as much as he loved you. While also erasing all of your bad traits and turning you into his ideal boyfriend... but there's no reason for that anymore, is there? So, I upgraded it into 2.0, which can now be used with two people."

"P-pff... yeah right... and what does this new version do then?"

"It can transfer the consciousness between two human brains. Even recoding the brain into believing the new consciousness have always been in control of its own body. All the memories, habits, and even muscle memory will be easily accessible to the new permanent owner." I explained, as I began fiddling with a machine by our side. The nodes on our caps lit up.

"Permanent?! Wait a minute. Let's say all of this freaky sci-fi stuff is actually real, what's going to happen to my consciousness?" Andrew asked, as he began to get more anxious by the beeping sound of the nodes on his head.

"All gone. Overwritten by mine. Erased out of existence with no way of restoring it." I answered nonchalantly. Flicking the last switched around, the device was now ready to be activated.

"What the fuck! Then you're basically killing me?! Get me out of here, you sick freak!" He began violently thrashing against the back of the chair, and flung his head around to get the latex cap off... but to no avail.

"Am I really though? Your memories, your body, and your relationships will all still be here, under my complete control. I'm just... discarding a small part of you that's no longer necessary."

"No...no... Help! HELP! SOMEONE!! THIS CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER IS GOING TO KILL ME!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, but the soundproofed walls would do him no good.

I flicked the final switch and walked over to him as the machine began buzzing. Standing in front of him, I suddenly sat down on his lap and grabbed hold of his face. I stared into his fearful yet piercing blue eyes and slid my hands across the cheeks and contours of his face.

"This beautiful face of yours that Gavin loved, I promise I'll take good care of it and cherish it until the day I die. It's the least I can do to honor my friend Gavin." I leaned forward and gently laid a kiss on his sweaty forehead, while holding him in place as he screamed for all he was worth.

"No! Noo! NOoO-Uoogguuughhhh" His scream turned into a gurgle as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. At the same time, my eyes went white and hazy as my pastry body slumped over and fell on the cement floor. Most likely cracked open its head or something from the sound of it.

"NgOOuoouughhgguuuhh!!!" Andrew's head flung back and forth as if to fight whatever was invading his head, but it barely took a minute before the thrashing suddenly stopped and his head slumped down.

His eyes were closed, his face flushed red from exertion, and the sweat and drool pooled down onto his expensive shorts. A further five minutes of stillness and blinking nodes passed before any activity was seen.

---

*Gasp*

I awoke to the cap on my head giving me a quick electric shock. In front of me laid my old withered body, lifeless and without a doubt stone dead. My throat felt dry and tired, and the ties on my arms hurt like hell. In fact, everything felt, looked, and smelt different. The smell oozing from my sweaty clothes that once smelt great now stunk in my nose. I could recall from Andrew's memories that he showered atleast twice a day. I showered atleast twice a day.

After some fiddling with the special knots in my back, I easily slipped the rope off. Massaging the sore parts on my wrist, I soon relished in how big and strong my new hands looked now. Hands who should've been holding Gavin's...

I explored further up till I reached my new bulging biceps. Squeezing them I felt how firm and taut they were. I never in a million years would have managed to get myself this big, but here I was, standing in the body of a perfect specimen. The body of the man who my friend loved, but who didn't truly love him back. If only I could've done this before Gavin died... Would he have loved me instead, or would he have hated me for what I had done? Well, atleast he would've been alive.

My focus went to my Andrew face, as I caressed the blemish-free skin and the small stubble forming on it. The face of the man I had hated for a while, the face of the man whose identity I would have to take over, and the face I would see in the mirror for as long as I breathed. It was one of the most handsome faces I've ever laid my eyes on no doubt, so I'm perfectly fine with that decision.

My hands continued to explore what was now mine; running fingers through my lush but wet hair, following the outline of my cobblestone abs, and shaking my strong and muscular legs awake from sitting too long.

Not long after I finally slipped the drool and sweat-soaked shorts off myself and watched as the tool between my legs arose to its new owner. It might not have been as long as my former one, but the very girth of it made up for it. As I enveloped it between my palms, I realized that no one had ever been as intimate with Andrew's tool as I was now, and no one would ever be. Not even Gavin would if he was somehow resurrected. Only I, Andrew would ever know how this throbbing member would feel in my own hands, the endorphins and pleasure its touch would send throughout my amazing body, and the ultimate earth-shattering orgasms I would experience as I edge myself to climax every day from now on.

The very thought of it immediately brought me to the brink of orgasm, so I quickly spread my legs apart and thrust the member fully through my grasp. It was all that was needed as I suddenly began shaking with pleasure and exploded shot after shot of Andrew seed all over the floor, myself and my former lifeless body."Ugh! Uuuugh! UUUuOOGggHH!!"

“.... Holy shit.....” I moaned, slightly shocked by the unfamiliarity of the new voice coming from my throat.

Reeling from my first ever orgasm in my new body and life, I sat back down on the chair and took a breather. I was sweaty, my crotch sticky, and my armpits stunk. Yet, I know I still looked glorious. How couldn't I? After all, I am Andrew. The man who Gavin loved, and who loved him back just as much, if not even more...

I will dedicate this new life of mine to worship and care for this body just as much as Gavin would have. His legacy, Andrew's body and life, and my consciousness have finally become one... and I promise I will carry them with pride and confidence to the grave... even if it is the only thing I will accomplish in this short insignificant life of mine.

[pure-kirarin]

Silvers Rayleigh x f! insecure reader (tw)

A/N: Please someone make gifs with young Rayleigh from today’s episode. I beg you. So okay, this is a young rayleigh x reader because the ep made me thirst for him... Enjoy :B LOVE YOURSELF everyone. Have some Rayleigh wisdom your way~ 

Warning: body dysmorphia / VERY sweet Rayleigh 

-------------------------

« I am sorry. I don't feel like it tonight. »

You say as you push Rayleigh gently away from you. You were sitting on his lap and things were taking a rather interesting turn. However, when his hand slid gently under your sweatshirt, you begun to feel self consciousness crawl into your head. The damn dark thoughts erupted in your brain like dark fog, stopping you from thinking straight.

Don't think. Don't think. Don't think.

You try to suppress the thoughts, of how unworthy you are to be with such a good-looking man. Of how disgusting and sorry you feel. Guilty for your own existence, sorry that he has to be with someone like you, as if he haven’t chose you, as if he didn't see the beauty within you.

All logic has left your destructive mind. A strong desire to run away and hide under the sheets stroke you. You refused opening up about this, you didn't want to seem like an annoyance or an unconfident little girl in front of him.

He was much older than you, much more experienced. He must have known all types of women. He could have any of them at the snap of his fingers. Why were you the one for him ? What was it that he saw in you ?

« -(Y/N), are you okay ?  he frowns, taking off his hand immediately.

-I am sorry, I-I don't feel my best. »

You look away, you didn't want to see his handsome face, it only made you feel worse. You felt self-conscious, as if he had never touched you before. You instinctively wrapped your arms around your upper-body, muscles clenching. When you try to jerk away from his lap, his arm held you firmly, pulling you closer to him.

Irises in irises, your face was just a breath away from his. You were frightened that he might see the distress in your eyes and feel your insecurity. You weren't comfortable yet sharing that vulnerable side of you. He was good, too good, and you didn't want to show him that weakness. Your eyes sway back and forth, unsure where to look while his narrowed. His voice came, assertive.

-Anything you need to tell me ?

It wasn't really a question but rather an order. He knew something was wrong, you felt naked under his piercing gaze. There is no way to hide anything from a man like him. Your lips parted, trying to say something. You hesitated then just said ;

-Nothing. I'm just not in the mood. 

-Don't lie to me, (Y/N). You can tell me anything. His voice was now nothing but a whisper. Trust me.

He puts a strand of hair behind your ear and says ;

-What's bothering my princess ?

That nickname out of his lips sounded like a magical spell, making you relax instantly, trust him more. You were the one he chose. Even in this moment, he considered you as his princess. You drown your head in his neck, unable to face him. Your hands start to play nervously with the fabric of his shirt.

Rayleigh started stroking your back gently, as if he was inviting you to open up and to drop the defenses. His steady breathing, delicate feel and distinct fragrance were soothing and pacifying your soul. You burried your nose in his blond locks, inhaling the fern and incense mix with every breath.

-You're too good for me...Rayleigh...I feel ugly and...Unworthy of you...I hate the way my body looks and feels...I feel so sorry that you have to be with me...

You couldn't help but feel some tears start pearling in the corner of your eyes, leaving wet areolas on flowery-printed shirt. You sighed and mumbled in an almost inaudible voice, full of shame ;

-These last days I just feel so terrible about myself. I feel trapped in this body. I don't like looking at it. I feel ashamed. I feel disgusted. I feel like I don't deserve to be loved, let alone loved by someone like you. You are strong...You say as you tug on the fabric of his shirt -You are handsome and you are popular around girls...What are you doing with someone like me, Rayleigh ?

As an answer to your soft sobs, Rayleigh can't help but laugh. No, it wasn't a mocking laugh at all. It was one of disbelief, an endearing one. He laughed like he was faced with a kid saying nonsense. Or more like he knew too well what you were feeling. Your cheeks were now flushed out of embarrassment. You didn't understand his reaction at first. Was he...Laughing at you ? You straighten out your neck now looking into his ebony orb.

He wipes out a tear off your cheek with his thumb and spoke ;

« -Sometimes I forget the age difference between us. But here you remind me of it. There is no need for you to feel this way, little fawn, you are stunning. Here. »

To your surprise, he gets up from the chair you were both sitting on. You hold on to him pretty tight so you don't fall, unsure about what he is about to do. He goes in front of the big mirror that was in the corner of his cabine. You reach out for the floor.

«-Take a good look. You are gorgeous. »

He positions himself behind you and envelops you in his arms. His lips start laying silky kisses on your skin, making you embarrassed. The sight made you feel embarrassed and uncomfortable.

« -This is the girl I am in love with. Every part of you just drives me insane. You are a young woman, still blind to your own charm. So I need to show it to you. »

His reaction was unexpected and turned you into a blushing mess. He puts his hands on your shoulders ;

« I want you to look at yourself everyday and remember that you are in one hand, and that all the other women in the world are in another. 

-Wow...Rayleigh... »

Your eyes widened and you felt your heart drop as he said these word in a voice so suave that it felt indecent. You didn't know that the man was so good with words. He caught you offgard.

«-Don't say such thiings. » You whine, hiding your face in embarrasment, turning around and hiding your face on his chest.  « It's embarrassing. »

« Well, since you don't know your worth, I will have to remind you everyday till you never forget about it. »

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Birthday Cake

A/N: Suprise folks!!! *me laughing maniacally* The whole scenery for this fic somehow appeared in my head and I just COULDN’T let it slip away, so... My biggest inspo for that was @drawlfoy!! Remember her posting the fic where Draco and Reader work at McDonald’s and are total suckers in their job (arguing with the customers; preparing wrong orders; etc.)? Dee unfortunately, deleted this precious, but it’s stuck to my head ever since (lol lol, it’s the moment where Dee wants to get rid of something, but I kindly remind everyone it existed). Therefore I present to you the next Draco x Reader fic related to our fav fast-food rest. This time, however, they’re not working at the same workplace but... I'm going to stop here cuz I don't want to spoiler :P

**The second thing that triggered me to write this fic is the YouTube video I recently saw with a lady who orders the 'specials' appearing to be out of the menu list of McDonald’s, through the Drive-Through. She asked for a birthday cake, was laughed at a few times, but eventually got what she wanted. Applause for the attitude!!

About the fic (context, my bitches): ofc it’s the modern AU, non-magical world. Draco’s the worst boyfriend ever but always manages to turn things into their righteous place. 

Summary: The birthday is upcoming, and Draco is in a rush to think up an idea for a perfect gift. His ingenuity fails, however, and leaves Y/N very unsatisfied with a disaster that has been forged. 

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: my brain playing a total psycho, language, alcohol, sexual undertones/allusions to sex, Pansy being too much of her self... deal...

Tags: @drawlfoy @eltanin-malfoy

Such an unrestrained desire to strangle somebody you hadn't felt in a long time.

Really.

Today was your birthday, which you had been widely announcing for almost a whole month to people you might have accidentally forgotten about it. Having your boyfriend, Draco, on your mind in particular.

You doubted he would have the guts to omit your big day, though as repeatedly as he had done for a few years back. But something between foresight and the second sense of prevention told you to keep reminding him every day of the upcoming event, with a heap of birthday-themed emojis and uppercases in the messages.

Everything was planned out in your head: him picking you up from your house with the sharp-red cabriolet that he used only for special occasions; him driving the two of you to the fanciest restaurant he could find in town; him bestowing you with a nice-looking, golden necklace or a different piece of jewelry you had been suggestively pointing out in the store's exhibition; him booking up a hotel room for you two to celebrate.

Either way, that was much beyond your expectations, as it turned out. And now you were sitting in the front yard of your house, waiting for him to show up.

'If he was going to at all.' This thought invaded your mind for the last hour, try as might to subdue it. An hour you had been sitting tight, hoping it was only a delay caused by a traffic jam or other irrational explanation he could come up with. But you were deceiving yourself, you eventually presumed -- you had been checking up your phone every one minute, only to see if any message notification popped up on the screen, other than birthday wishes from friends who actually cared for you.

2.02pm: Nothing.

2.03pm: Susan 'Happy birthday bitch!'

2.04pm: Instagram notif. (Someone liked your photo, which you had posted before leaving your room, posing in front of the mirror in the best cocktail dress you could find in the wardrobe.)

2.05pm: Nothing yet again.

2.06pm: Still... Peace and quiet.

"Fuck it...Enough," you muttered under your breath, an annoying disillusionment falling like a heavy mile stone on your chest. Tears suddenly started sprinkling in your eyes at the regret, and you were very reluctant to admit that your friends were right -- Draco Malfoy was an egoistic, negligent, self-absorbed pri--

"Hi." You heard the raspy, panting voice says. "Sorry for the delay."

You blinked slowly, stupidly. You raised your head to assure yourself it was him. That his expression actually corresponded to his words and showed some kind of remorse for standing you up. But no... There he was: standing in front of you, plainly confident and unashamed, with his cocky smirk provoking you to slap him.

Oh, how much you craved to slap him right now. "Where to the fuck have you been?"

"I've tried to pick this up," he explained, simultaneously lifting up the paper bag he'd been carrying in his hand. The big, exclaiming letters 'McDonald's' with the brand's logo were printed on its exterior, and it was fully stuffed with something inside.

Not quite comprehending, you furrowed. You attempted to hide the venom in your voice, but somehow it found its way to leak out. "Couldn't you do that in advance?"

"Nope..." It was his turn to furrow, looking almost shocked with the question. And thanks to all those years of your relationship, you knew it was his piss-poor estimation of time taking over. "It was a last-minute surprise."

"Sounds like it," you commented irritably. "What's that?"

"Your birthday present, sunshine," he drawled happily, ignoring your remark. He sounded positively delighted and satisfied with himself at surprising you with that because he saw a slight crease of shock painting on your forehead. "Here you go."

You took his deposit out of his grasp, still quite unsure. What if his gift would only make a situation worse? Can it get any worse with Draco's total lack of tact? Yes. But it was only one way to find out.

Without even stealing a second glance at him, you ripped off all of the packaging that had been folded around, protecting the contents. You tried to do it carefully and without any impact of emotions revealing the way you felt inside, but your hands were shaking with rage, and you couldn't quite contain yourself. You had been highly aware you shouldn't have expected much from him, but still...

You wondered if the universe was playing against you.

There was a moment of tense silence as you struggled to deal with all the wrappings. Rather unfortunately, you wished you hadn't put so much effort in opening your so-called 'gift' because as you finally did, it only angered you more, seeing as the disappointment laughs at your face. And yes, as a matter of fact, the universe was against you today...

"Are you kidding me?" you asked in disbelief, fury reappearing in your eyes. "A birthday cake?! From McDonald's?" Ugly, little cake with the creepiest smiley face of a clown. It wasn't even fresh, you realized, when you smelled it and felt a musty reek of a freezer, it probably had been kept in. A confusing sense of sadness in your chest couldn't reach any higher at this point.

"Don't you like it?" he asked, detecting the wrath in your eyes. At that, you felt the dumbest urge to laugh and never stop. "I thought it'd be something original."

"Oh, I love it," you said sarcastically, a faint voice of hope telling you it was only a very bad joke was still lingering in your head. But it wasn't a joke.

"It's not just--" He struggled to form a coherent sentence. "I've been asking Blaise and Theo about any ideas. I told them, what you had said to me -- 'you didn't want anything fancy.' So we decided it's... something."

"Of course I didn't tell you I want anything, you dolt!" Your voice raised up almost two octaves, and the pulse sped up so fast it entailed a headache along. A neighbor from the opposite garden who was watering the flowers looked at you, startled, and eyes widened your exasperated tone. You didn’t care. "It's how it works: you don't tell other people you expect them to buy something!"

"But I'm your boyfriend. You shouldn't -- er-- feel uncomfortable to tell..."

"Exactly! As my boyfriend, you should have known!"

"Well... I didn't. If that's what's bothering you, we can...we can..."

"Stop." Listening to him and his pathetic excuses was the last thing you were going to do now. "What – why would you even – " You sputtered out, unable to process or express exactly what you were feeling. There was definitely anger and indignation. Curiosity, for another, as to why Draco would even fall for such foolish and ill-considered idea, and -- to the top of it -- hope it would make a good fit. And possibly, the last and most satisfying part, was the wicked impulse to throw the cake directly into his arrogant face, letting him taste his own medicine he had been serving you for years on each failed birthday.

"You know, for once, you could pay more effort and try doing something nice for me," you told him firmly, deflating to calm down your buzzing nerves.

"I've been tr--"

"Do you realize how much it costs me to pretend to be happy when you forget about me? Last year, I organized a big-ass party for your birthday, inviting over all of your friends and buying the best booze I could find to celebrate it properly," you said harshly and pretentiously, as you intended. "The best part is, you didn't even thank me." You stared at him, wringing your hands and expecting to perceive any trope of shame in his eyes. For the first time, you actually did.  

"Listen, about that--" he calmly attempted to cut off your monologue.

"No, you listen..." Did you really want what was upcoming next? Maybe it was about time. "Today, I decided I'm standing up for myself. So, for the last time, get out from my porch."

He bristled, the thunderstruck air hanging around him. "Because of the stupid cake?"

"What?! No! It's just... I feel like you don't give a damn about me anymore." Gulp formed in your throat, and the tears finally left your eyes at the consciousness of what was happening. "I think we both deserve some time."

Your eyes moved to his, and you almost wished you hadn't looked. He was watching you, with pursed lips and a pure mixture of every emotion: anger, sadness, resentment, pretension, dejection. The faintest of his flustered blushes appeared on his cheeks, and you suddenly wished you could hug him. "So you are putting us..." His finger pointed at him and you as if expecting clarification. "...on a break? Is that what it is?"

You were truly torn, to be honest. Becoming single on your birthday was the last wish you had for this day, but you felt a strong sense of adequacy and pride for building up the boundaries of tolerance. Besides, seeing as it was heading nowhere, it was only a matter of time that your relationship came to an end.  

Although, it hurt. A lot. "Yes."

You darted your eyes from him, not wanting to study his reaction in case it caused you to meltdown and jump to his embrace, apologizing endlessly for your words. You loved him. But you didn't regret what you had just said.

Something like a dry chuckle of disbelief escaped out of his mouth. "Is that what you really want?"

'No,' your thoughts prompted you instantly before you could even contemplate. 'I want you to say so many things you're never willing to say. But you don't know.'

So instead, you lied: "Yes."

All expressed, you spun around without peeking back and rushed into your room, already knowing there was no more sense in strives to make this day any better; all of it would bring only bad associations. It would be depressing, even more than it already was.

God, was it how the break-up pained? Because if so, you wanted to be deceased. The world spun suddenly, and you sank to your knees, shaking madly and doing your best to find your way back to your bed, located a few mere meters from you. Part of you felt numb, but your head was wide awake and alarming you that something in terms of a disaster had just happened. Because it did. The clutching in your chest was unbearable, and tears were dashing out of your eyes like a living waterfall, which made you bury your face in your hands. Never have you ever wanted to be so drunk before.

And so many questions rung up in your head at once.

Did you make a good decision? What if you are going to miss him, yet knowing you could never call? What about college -- are things about to get awkward?

No answers.

But you knew someone who would be able to reply to them.

With the blurred by tears vision, you struggled but managed to find your phone in the purse, and then clumsily scrolled through and tapped in your list of contacts before holding the phone to your ear.

Please answer, you begged. Please, please…

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Pansy's voice roared from the other side of a line, as always, enthusiastic.

"Pansy." You tried to sound less brokenly than you were, feeling marginally worse at the reminder of your birthday. "Is Daphne around?"

"Ouch, you're a really nasty bitch sometimes, you know. I'm not goin' to point out today, but since you didn't let me end my wishes, I'll note that for the future reference." You were sure she was grinning at the teasing, seeing as much as she liked that. Normally, you wouldn't mind, but... "How--"

"Pansy, please..." you sobbed out, almost desperate to have someone to consult and share emotions with. Daphne -- contrary to Pansy, who could be very judgy sometimes -- was someone you had especially on mind now. "I need to talk to her."

You heard her sigh; the kind of sigh she used to either prove her resignation or concern. But, as much as it surprised you, she suppressed her curiosity and, without a second word, obediently handed the phone over to Daphne. At least, that's what you assumed because you heard a pause and subdued mutters in the background.

"Y/N?" the milder tone spoke up, and you felt suddenly very strange as if submerged in water of relief; relief to hear the familiar voice. That released you from keeping a distant attitude, and yet again, a sadness washed over you, triggering a loud wail to come out of your mouth. "Y/N, is everything alright?"

"No..." you sniveled, unable to collect yourself together. "I-I... We br-brok-e up."

"You and Draco?" Daphne asked, astonishment evident.

You nodded but then remembered she couldn't see you nor read your expression. So instead, you forced your vocal cords to work again. "Mhm..."

"What happened?"

Restoring the story in your brain again, you told her everything, still tearfully but much more coherently this time. You avoided the details, briefly skipping from one utterance to another, as your conversations had gone, and you were very much thankful she didn't press for more information about the prospect of the situation. If it hadn't been her sporadic gasps or loud inhales of breath, you would have almost presumed she wasn't listening. However, she was, and as soon turned out, Pansy was as well.

"That's bananas!" Pansy shouted somewhere from the back as you had ended, and despite your gloom, you giggled quietly at her comment.

"Shush," Daphne tried to silence her, covering up the fact she had put you on the speaker. You didn't mind because you knew Pansy, who would definitely expect Daphne to cite the whole conversation if needed. But knowing Daphne as well, you could bet she flushed more than she would want to at that point. "So it all started because of the cake?"

"And the delay," you added. "But it's not just about that, obviously. It feels like... he completely stopped caring. And I don't want to be stuck in a relationship where everything is about sex and having fun only. Draco wasn't looking for a commitment, which..."

"Sucks,"ended this time Pansy unhesitatingly, who wasn't now screaming from the other part of a room but openly participating in the discussion.

"Yeah," you agreed.

"As for me, I think he might love you more than you know, Y/N." It was Daphne talking again, and she sounded positively convinced about her view as for someone who had hardly exchanged any word with Draco for the past few years. As if reading your thoughts, she continued. "I've observed you a lot. I know he might seem unemotional, but it's you who discovered him. That must require a lot of trust, you know."

You contemplated, and some of the memories and images from your first encounter run across your brain, try as might to suppress it: spotting each other at the party; binging some whisky shots together; flirty teasing; the very masculine scent of cologne; and then... more spicy recollections -- eager lips pressing against each other; against each others' necks; against other parts of the body; stripping off the clothes in the passionate haste...

Receiving a long moment of silence, Daphne took a second chance and asked. "And what's with you? Do you want to end it?"

It felt like standing before the oracle of truth. Therefore, you couldn't deny it in front of yourself. "No."

"So what're you still doing there?" commented Pansy impatiently, and you could imagine her rolling the eyes. "Get out and find him!"

She was right. You will.

XOXOXOXO

"I thought I'd find you here..."

No. Actually, you didn't. 

You had tracked Draco's phone with your own one with some help of an app that, as the two of you had established still in the relationship, would be a good idea in case of an emergency. That in itself proved to be more than helpful, believing that your argument may be pinned as something in terms of an emergency, right?

So having access to his location, you had found out he was in the park where he had taken you on the first date, shortly after dinner, to watch the sunset that, as he had described, 'was a typical cliche from every romantic movie.'

But you had fallen for that. So much.

You hadn't been aware the place had actually some meaning for him until now, and that... God, that he had even remembered it. Time showed, however, that it indeed did, to which your heart reacted with a happy jolting. But also with a nasty sting of nostalgia following shortly after.

Yet, that only had encouraged you to make up your mind and go looking for him, which hadn't been such a difficult task per se. He was sitting on the bench, in the shade of a tree, and hiding his a little too delicate skin from the sun rays. As soon as he had heard your voice, his gray eyes flew up to see you standing a few meters away.

"What are you doing here?" was the immediate question that tumbled out of his mouth. He arched his eyebrow, and to your surprise, he didn't even look angry or sad with you. Nothing near the edge; actually, almost something like the amusement was painting on his face.

"Aren't you mad with me?" you asked intrigued, completely forgetting about his question.

He frowned. "Why would I be?" His tone was so mild that you weren't sure if he was referring to the double meaning; but then he smirked playfully and said, "Besides, I knew you were coming."

"Wha-- How?" you asked, eyes dilating a fraction, in shock.

He smirked, pointing at his phone in an explanatory manner. After a moment, you finally figured out what he meant: the app must have registered he had been tracked and that your phone was trying to find his. At this notice, you reacted with a wave of flush, suddenly regretting your previous lie. His smile only widened at your expression. "Wanna sit? It's plenty of room here."

"Mhm..." You nodded, pleased to accept his offer, and walked over to the bench, doing your best to hide the evident embarrassment on your face. You felt strange he had taken you with such ease, seeing as merely two or three hours ago, you had burst at him like a cram-full volcano of unspoken emotions.

Draco shifted a package from his side, making more space for you to sit, and it took you a moment to realize it was a McDonald's cake from earlier. Everything started from that -- a stupid, little piece of cake which stood up between...

You shook the thought away, taking a seat next to him, close enough to smell his sandalwood cologne. "You didn't answer my question," Draco reminded you. "What's so important to make you track my phone?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" You rounded your face to him, flustrated, leaning at the backrest of a bench. "That's why I came. I wanted to apologize."

"Oh... Couldn't you call?"

You sighed. "I figured you wouldn't want to talk to me after...you know... our quarrel," you said half-despondent, half-desperate, watching your feet as if it were the most interesting thing to peer at now. "I didn't mean what I said earlier."

"I know," he said. Out of nowhere, he was gently grasping your palms which forced you to look up directly into his intense gaze. His eyes were swirling like molten silver at you. "But I should be apologizing, love. I made a mistake, okay?" His hands traveled all across to your tense shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "I know I should be more... affectionate with you. And this was...dumb. A dumb mistake. With that cake. But I'll try to be better if you give it another shot."

He looked so serious that you instantly believed him. You wanted to actually, with all force of longing, which grew up too rapidly in you when he wasn't around. Draco was a fool, you could easily say. But he was your fool, which was a thing you couldn't be more proud of.

Peeking slowly in the other direction, you asked, out of the topic, "You remembered the place?"

"Of course," he puffed jokingly, smiling. "Our first date. Officially our place from then on."

"Right..." You smiled back.

Honestly, the mere fact that he had called this spot 'yours' warmed up your heart, and you felt yourself grinning at his never-before-discovered emotionality. To assure yourself you weren't the only one caring, it was all you needed to hear.

The whole moment was intense, and now, you realized, is when you should have hugged him. Kissed him. Said something back at his sincere endearment.

But instead, spotting plastic cutlery next to your 'gift', you asked, "So what's the taste of the birthday cake?"  

And you knew he had caught the subtext of your playful inquiry. And you knew that soon you would work things out again. But, as for now...

"I thought you would never ask."

XOXOXOXO

A/N: Looooooool. Such a drama-comedy, right? And I could easily say It feels like 50% Draco-x-Reader / 50% Draco-x-BirthdayCake... But whatever (2am is working like a drunken bud, folks). Happy beginning of August :)

[getyouasenju]

Dragging It In.

Part 3/3 to the “Dragging” series

Part 1 “Dragging Along”

Part 2 “Dragging Away”

Warnings: some small spoilers, curse words, some suggestive themes, angst, (maybe some spelling errors I’m sorry!).

Word Count: 3.7k

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹

“(Y/N)”

I could hear my name being called from my slumber. I felt sore all over, my head was throbbing and my throat was entirely too dry to function. Being a shinobi I was no stranger to the scratchy unbelievably tightly tucked sheets and the sterile smell. I was in a hospital for what ever reason. I hear my name being softly called again. Forcing my sore eyes open I see my pink haired friend peering over my bed. Scrunching my eyes in reaction the sudden change of lighting caused a searing pain in my head. Crossing her arms and glaring at me, Sakura spoke sarcastically, “It hurts doesn’t it? That’s what happens when you leave a head injury untreated after a mission”. My eyes widen and I stared at her cheekily. She smiled sweetly back at me... too sweet for the friend I know. I didn’t even get a chance to brace myself before she struck me.

“CHA!”

I hiss and grab my now stinging shoulder. “God damn it Sakura, I’m in a hospital bed for fucks sake! Do you strike all your patients?” She crossed her arms and smiled at me, “Only the ones I’m best friends with that promise to see me in the morning to get checked out and then never show up! I mean come on (Y/N), how hard of a hit did you take on that mission to have to put you out of commission like this?” I thought back to the rainy mission and sighed, rubbing my shoulder I looked at my friend “Not that hard... only hard enough to lose consciousness..” grinning I laughed nervously as she started balling her fist again.

“Hey! you can’t hit me again, I have a head injury Sakura- god!” I cried out bracing myself this time. “That shoulder looks pretty fine to me!” Sakura replies brushing some of her hair out of her face. “Not-uh it’s pretty bruised now if you ask me.” I whined back, praying she doesn’t strike again. Can I get a new nurse that isn’t my worried friend? “That’s why you have two shoulders!” I paled as my eyes widened. “Sakura, please!” She quickly put one hand on her hip, the other pointing at me “Don’t Sakura me! You could’ve done some real damage (Y/N)! and don’t think I don’t see that your ring is missing!” So all of our friends are just gonna get dragged into this mess huh? .... Maybe I should just simply pass out again.

Between our bickering the door croaked open and in walks the shadow man. Sakura whips around placing her hands on her hips. “Excuse me Shikamaru, It’s not visitors hours yet, you just can’t waltz in here anytime you like, fiancé’s included!” I scoffed laying back and tugging the blankets further up my body. Didn’t just mention she noticed the missing ring? I already told him I didn’t want to speak with him... and he still smelled like cigarettes! This was a hospital, he’s gonna give someone an asthma attack. I turned my head to fully examine the Nara. He looked as bad as I felt, dark circles an unbuttoned vest and a loosened ponytail. As he should!

Sighing deeply while still holding the door handle, Shikamaru looks at Sakura pleading with his eyes. Taking her hands off her hips, Sakura looks at me then back at Shikamaru, I could see the gears turning in her head. Crossing her arms and sighing, “Just this once Nara! I’ll be back later (Y/N), I’ll bring an ice pack for that shoulder!” She laughs while giving my hand a friendly squeeze. Giving me her signature smile, she departs waving at Shikamaru on the way out.

As he watches her close the door, he turns to the right and grabs the chair in the corner. The sound of the dragging was highly irritating and I rolled my eyes as I fought the urge to pull the blankets over my head and just ignore the man. He pulls the chair to my bedside and sits down trying to make eye contact with me andI was refusing to give it to him. Sighing again he leaned back in the chair. 

“You had some head injuries, you should be fine but you should’ve went to the hospital immediately after that mission, and that fall made it worse.” He sounded strained. I just nodded at him, thinking back to the mission and how outnumbered my team was. “You know, I was terrified when you went down like that.” He let out a shaky sigh putting his hands together in his lap. “Why didn’t you go in (Y/N)- god” He drags his hands down his face, “Are you doing this to spite me? Not going to be seen, then going and asking for a dangerous mission. Are you trying to get yourself killed?” I sat up straight in my bed and finally made the eye contact that he was searching for. 

“I went home first because I missed you, I hadn’t seen you in over a fucking month!” letting out a humorless laugh I continued, “I didn’t avoid being seen to spite you, I went home first instead of being seen because you’re my first priority- but apparently I wasn’t yours.” Asking for that mission though was just a tad bit spiteful though, but I’m in no position to admit to that! By the end of my rant I wanted him out, I was tempted to hit the call button. I could feel the anger in the air from both of us. He broke the silence first. “You should trust me, you know nothing would ever happen between Temari and I, I’m with you, I’ve been with you for the last four fucking years!” I was livid, trust him? I do fucking trust him!

“I trust you Shikamaru, you don’t trust me because if you trusted me, you would’ve told me why you went to see her and you wouldn’t of left without making things right with me first.” He reaches for my hand, but I snatched it away shoving it under the blankets, he looked so crestfallen. He opens and closes his mouth several times before scooting his chair closer to my bed.

“Please give me your hand, (Y/N). Please don’t make me beg.”

I was hesitant, I didn’t know if I wanted to be touched by him at the moment but, he looked determined and I was nervous. I pulled my hand from under the blanket and he quickly reached for it. Grabbing my smaller hand in his larger calloused one, he let out a content sigh slowly rubbing circles on the back of my hand, moving almost impossibly slower when grazing over the bare left ring finger. “What do I have to do to get this ring back where it belongs.”

“Shikamaru I question your IQ everyday, don’t play stupid with me.”

I slowly start to retract my hand but his grip on me tightens ever so slightly. “I already have a head injury, can you stop making my brain hurt more? Either tell me why you ran to her side or let me and my hand go. Now.” I groaned out, I was getting annoyed, and fast. When was Sakura coming back with that ice pack again? The pain in my shoulder was dull now, but boy can that girl pack a punch and Shikamaru might as well be punching me in my brain right now.

When he suddenly let go of my hand, my heart started to race. Was he going to leave again? If he left me again then I knew for sure that we just weren’t meant to be. I laid back, I just wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. More so, I want him to stop dragging this out. I opened my mouth to dismiss him when he suddenly spoke “Rasa”.

...Rasa, the fourth Kazekage. Also the father of the sand siblings, but what about him. I was just outright confused now. “Shikamaru, can you elaborate?” He straightened up looking for that eye contact again, this time I granted it to him. “It was the anniversary of Rasa’s death” grabbing for my hand again he continued. “Temari is here on the account of business between the leaf and the sand. This is the first time she wasn’t with Gaara and Kankuro during this time.” he sighed deeply. 

“He wasn’t always the best father but he was all they had, not being with her siblings for this affected her deeply. She’s the eldest and her siblings mean everything to her, they always have, she wants them to be able to depend on her. I’m the person she’s closest to in the leaf, so she called me.” he finished. Now I was even more confused. Why didn’t he just say that? “So you left me without explanation for what? You couldn’t just say this to me?”.

“I didn’t think you would understand.” I was baffled. He thought of all people that I wouldn’t understand. “You didn’t think I would understand, or is it that you didn’t want me to understand, Shikamaru.” I snatch my hand back again, this time for good. “I watched you mourn for your father after the war. You held it together on the field but I saw what it did to you after!” I rushed the words out so fast I felt like I was running out of breath but I went on, “I held Yoshino as she cried, I saw what it did to her, how it drained her, how it almost ruined her!” My head was throbbing again but I wasn’t done yet. “Tell me Shikamaru, did you run into my parents on the way here? how about someone from my clan, some siblings of mine? Please tell me they came to see me in my time of need Shikamaru!” I let out a pitiful laugh, “It’d be a miracle if you did, considering they’re all six feet under.” I let my shoulders drop as I leaned back staring straight ahead of me. There had to be more to it than this.

In a small voice I whispered to him, “You don’t think I have it in my heart to let someone who has experienced a loss have some comfort?”. I wanted to cry, more importantly I wanted him gone, at least my head did. He said nothing, but he doesn’t get to sit at my bedside in silence after this. I spoke again, still looking straight ahead, “Get out Shikamaru. You have my permission to leave this time, I won’t be mad. You’re giving me a migraine,” He still doesn’t move, so I whip my head around, I was tired. “Why are you pretending to fight so hard for us? Just admit you’re not as in love with me as you think you are”. I could hear my own heartbeat as I looked at Shikamaru. “It’s okay If you’re in love with Temari, I’ll be fine Shika. You can let me go.” If I had to let him go for his happiness, I was okay with that. He finally snaps his eyes me.

“I’m not in love with Temari, (Y/N).” How can he sit here and be so fucking vague with me? I felt not only emotionally exposed but physically as well with the tiny hospital gown. I wrap my arms around myself since I was the only comfort I’ve had these past few days. “There’s something there , I just wish you would be honest with me. If you’re not happy with me, then just let me go.” I was speaking as softly as I could, trying best to keep my voice from shaking. What kind of person did he think I was if he thought I lacked that much sympathy? I was a shinobi, but I wasn’t heartless. I at the very least expected him to know that.

“Temari will always have a spot in my heart,”

There it was, I didn’t want to hear anymore of it. when I said let me go, I didn’t mean give me a speech to verbally break my heart, he could easily just leave the room. Did he think I was going to listen to his confessions? wrong! I reach my hand out for the call button, if Sakura wasn’t coming back anytime soon, then someone else needed to come and rescue me, immediately. I felt his warm hand gently grab mine. “no more running, no more arguing, no more beating around the bush. Just you and I.” he sighed as he looked right into my eyes. He stands up and nudges me, signaling for me to scoot over giving him a spot on the bed. I felt conflicted, I really did love this man. We’ve shared our love and our lives for four years, but even before that I loved him. He could sense my hesitation and smoothes my hair down gently with his hand while gently nudging me over again. I give into the raven haired man and slowly slid to the right side of the bed making sure my IV’s were out of his way, the motion causing the back of my gown to open a bit to which I quickly pulled closed.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before” He smirked at me. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks as I ball the blanket in my hands. This isn’t the time for cheeky jokes! I was flustered and honestly feeling pretty vulnerable. His chuckle wasn’t helping the situation too much either. How dare he joke with me at a time like this! My shoulder was still throbbing but that didn’t stop me from attempting to smack the man. I winced as my hand hit something hard and glared at Shikamaru. Looking at me warily, he pulled out the pack of cigarettes and rubbed the back of his neck “You know I smoke when I’m stressed.” I remember when he picked up the nasty habit, and then I remembered why he did. I felt immediately guilty for contributing to that... but still the smell of cigarettes was just so gross. 

He leans back, slowly starting to snake his arm around my waist while watching my facial expressions for a reaction. When he saw me make no attempt to remove him, he sighed and pulled my body into his. “I missed you.” he quietly tells me... funny how he misses me, but me missing him is what got us into this entire situation. I decide to keep my thoughts to myself and train my eyes on the corner of the blanket I was currently picking at. I could feel him staring at me. 

“I remember when Asuma died.” My breath caught in my throat and I immediately dropped the blanket I was picking at. I didn’t know where this was going, but I knew it was going to be a painful ride. I felt him tilt his head as he continued, “I held it in for a long time. It took my father to pull it out of me.” I knew the story, I wasn’t too close with Shikamaru at the time, but a bond between a student and their sensei is strong. I didn’t have to know them, to know that. “Point of the story is I didn’t feel comfort in anyone... so I held it in, I felt like I had the weight of the world on my shoulders. I didn’t want anyone to coddle me, not even Temari and at that point in time, I was in love with her. I think I’ve only ever cried twice in my life in front of an audience.” He let out a sigh. By now I was fully looking up at him with curious eyes.

“When my father died in the war, I wanted to do the same. I held that pain in for my comrades, I didn’t want my fathers, nor Ino’s, deaths to be in vain.” He takes his other hand and grips my chin continuing on. “When the war was over I didn’t want to face it, but I had you. If it weren’t for you and Naruto, I don’t know how my mother would’ve made it another day.” He starts to smile a bit at me, “and suddenly I wanted to be coddled. I wanted you to hold me, to talk to me, to force me to eat when I didn’t want to, to be there when I slept and when I woke. I found comfort in you, and I still do.” He was stroking my cheek by now. “You made me realize that sometimes, It’s okay to coddle those in need. That sometimes even the strongest shinobi need a hug, need to shed some tears or just simply need some comfort. So, yes I went to comfort Temari but that was it, I finally understood how to give what you give me everyday.” 

He moved me almost impossibly closer to him “I was a fool to think the most comforting woman in the world wouldn’t understand grief when she has had a handful of it herself.” By the end of his speech my head injury was long forgotten, I had an aching heart. “I can’t believe I let the most important person in my life down. The person who gives me the most security asked for just a bit of it and I refused it to give it to her like an idiot.”

“Please hear me when I say this, there was a time in my life where I thought Temari and I were meant to be, but I know there is a lifetime where you and I belong together. You are it for me, nothing happened.” He tilted my head, searching my face for a reaction when the first tear ran down my face. Shikamaru was taken back and seemed a little panicky at the sight of me crying. I’d have to be heartless to not shed a tear for that confession, this man was everything I’ve ever wanted and I’d be lost- I’d been lost without him.

I reach arms up and around his neck as he brushes the tears from my eyes. “Shikamaru please don’t scare me like that ever again, I won’t make it to the wedding day if I die of a heart attack.” Burying my face into his shoulder, I ignore the smell of cigarettes. I could feel him release a breath of air at my proclamation, squeezing me tighter in return. Suddenly he’s pushing me off and scrambling off the bed, but I didn’t understand. I thought we were making up and there he goes running off again! “Shika, didn’t I just tell you not to scare me again? Hey! get back over here!” I told him slightly out of breath from the change in position and pouting.

I had put myself in an upright position watching as he frantically searched through his pockets with his back to me. Sighing in relief as he finally found what he was looking for, he quickly turned back to me and dropped to his knee. My ring! “(Y/N), please don’t ever make me take this ring back again, I don’t know if my heart could take it. Will you please be my fiancée again?” He was proposing to me again! I quickly nod my head shoving my bare ring finger in the cloud gazing man’s face as he returned it back to its rightful spot and we sealed it with a kiss. A knock at the door separated us.

Sakura came in pushing a cart, “Just coming by to change (Y/N)’s IV dressing!” Shikamaru takes a step back, taking a seat in the chair by my bedside as Sakura moves in close. Gently grabbing my hand, she started changing the IV dressing, of course it was the left one. I could feel her smirking at my hand. “That’s a nice ring there (Y/N), is it new!?” the medical genius teased me snickering. She knew we would make up. I couldn’t help but laugh with her. “Yeah, Shikamaru just gave it to me, isn’t it cute?” I joked back. letting out a complete and full laugh now, the pink haired woman agreed while Shikamaru face palmed. “Who knew you’d be able to get two proposals out of this lazy one!” Shikamaru was full on groaning at this point.

Another knock on the door lead to a huge bouquet with some legs poking out from under it! Ino! “I didn’t know which arrangement you’d like best so I decided to bring you all of them!” Ino was the sweetest girl and I was grateful that Shikamaru had brought us together. “Here Shikamaru, hold these!” Ino drops the bouquet into the Nara’s lap and moved to hug Sakura and then me. Another loud groan was released from the shadow man. “Was all of this really necessary Ino? (Y/N) is getting discharged tomorrow.” Shikamaru complains holding onto the heavy arrangements.

“Get used to looking at arrangements Shika! You’ll get your fair share when we’re planning our wedding.” I smirk and wink at my fiancé dearest as the two women shriek and join hands. “You’re starting the wedding planning?!” Sakura says dreamily as I nod, “Yep, want to start my lifetime with that one soon”. I reply smirking at my soon to be husband. “About time! I’m on flower duty!” Ino proclaims. I just nod my head in agreement, stuck in a staring contest with Shikamaru.

“How troublesome... you two are going to turn my girlfriend into a bridezilla.” He smirks and lets out his typical sigh.

“Not-uh, I’m not your girlfriend Shikamaru, I’m your fiancée, remember?” Using his own line on him I giggled. We smiled so hard at each other that I swore my cheeks were going to cave in.

“How about a spring wedding?!” Sakura shrieks, “With roses!” Ino excitedly adds.

I was so grateful for everyone in that room, and I couldn’t wait to drag Shikamaru back into our home where we belonged, together.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹

The Final part of the “Dragging” series guys! I’m still new and learning so Imma just apologize If you hated it lolll. Not sure if I’ll do anything else with this series, I might do a different series! feel free to message me!

Until Next Time! xxo (▰∀◕)ﾉ