#i gotta kill you now though ash

[doctorbitchcrxft]

All Hell Breaks Loose | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, dean's lowk suicidal, dealing with trauma from a sexual assault please please please take care of yourselves!!!

Word Count: 4442

A/N: I combined episodes pt. 1 and 2! Enjoy!!!

As a result of things going on in my personal life, the start of my season 3 release has been delayed for a month from now. I just want to give myself some extra time to make sure the season is perfect for y'all! i hope you understand. see ya real soon. <3

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After the Djinn captured you, your relationship with Dean was beginning to heal. You still couldn’t bring yourself to have sex with him despite knowing he would never treat you the way the guard had. Slowly, you became more comfortable with him initiating touch, in contrast to the way you’d previously been tensing under it for the past several weeks. 

You reclined in the backseat humming along to the radio as the Impala rolled to a stop in front of a small diner.

“Hey, don’t forget the extra onions this time, huh?” Dean told his brother while he handed him some money. 

“Dude, we’re the ones who’re gonna have to ride in the car with your extra onions,” Sam sighed, getting out of the car.

Dean grinned and leaned to look at Sam. “Hey, see if they’ve got any pie.”

Sam glared at him and shut the door.

“Bring me some pie!” Dean begged. “I love me some pie,” he murmured to himself.

You giggled at your best friend and closed your eyes, leaning against the back of the seat. Your solace was broken soon after by the car’s radio going static. When you sat up, the café was seemingly empty. 

Without needing to look at Dean, you grabbed your gun from under the seat and ran into the building. Upon entering, you discovered a customer in a booth, dead, lying face down in a puddle of his own blood.

“Sam?” Dean called.

You moved around the counter to find the employees also dead behind it, their throats slit. Dean opened the door behind the counter and looked around outside. “Sam?!”

You noticed something on the door. “Dean, sulfur.”

Dean’s eyes widened in panic, and he raced back out to the car. “Sam? Sammy!”

“Dean, he’s not here—” you lamented.

He cut you off by bellowing, “Sam!”

“Dean, passenger’s seat,” you ordered. 

“Wh—”

“You’re in no condition to drive. Do as I say,” you commanded.

He looked like he wanted to argue, but his shaken nerves wouldn’t let him. Expertly, you quickly got out of the parking lot and back out onto the road. 

“Call Bobby,” you instructed Dean, and he did so.

“Bobby,” Dean said. “It’s got Sam. I don’t— We need help killin’ this son of a bitch, man. And I’m gonna kill ‘im myself. Damn it!” He slammed his hand on the dashboard, and you shot him a concerned glance out of the corner of your eye.

You motioned for Dean to give you the phone. “Hey, it’s (Y/N).”

“Hey, kid. What’s goin’ on?” Bobby asked through the phone.

“I have no clue,” you replied honestly. “We literally just stopped at a diner, the radio went static, and everyone in the place wound up dead. No trace of Sam. Sulfur on the door, though.”

“Damn it,” Bobby muttered. “I’ll meet ya halfway. Where are you?” 

“Uh, somewhere in Iowa,” you replied. 

“Alright. Just drive like you’re headin’ to my place. Take US-20 and I-29 and I’ll call you about two hours from now.”

“Got it,” you replied. “Thanks, Bobby.”

“Dean, you’ve gotta keep your head, man,” you urged him.

“I am,” he grunted.

You shot him a questioning, deadpan look. “Really.” 

He said nothing in response.

“Call Ash for me.” You handed him your phone from your back pocket, so you didn’t have to look while you drove.

“Hey, pretty lady,” Ash said once you’d gotten ahold of him.

You laughed. “Hey, Ash. Listen, would love to catch up, but we’re in deep shit right now.”

“How deep? Like, trash compactor deep or Sarlac pit deep?”

“Sarlac,” you responded.

“Damn,” he muttered. “What’s happenin’?”

***

“This is it. All demonic signs and omens over the past month,” Bobby told you and Dean. You’d met each other just off the highway and laid out a map on the hood of the Impala.

“Are you joking? There’s nothing here,” Dean scoffed.

“Exactly.”

“Well, come on, there’s gotta be something. What about the, the, the normal, low-level stuff? You know, exorcisms, that kind of thing,” Dean pressed.

“Dean, I think that would’ve been the first thing he looked for,” you gently reminded him. Bobby nodded.

“Well, how are we supposed to look for Sam? What, do we just close our eyes and point?” Dean gruffly snarked.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. 

“Ash, what do you got?” you asked, picking up your phone.

“Okay, listen, it’s a big negatory on Sam,” Ash said quietly.

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair.

“I did find something, though,” he whispered.

“Ash? You okay?” you asked.

“I can’t talk over this line, (Y/N).”

“Oh,” you said. “Okay. We’ll come to you, then.”

“What? No!” Dean grabbed the phone from you. “Come on, Ash, I don’t have time for this!” A moment later, Dean pulled your phone away from his ear. Ash had apparently hung up on him. “I guess we’re going to the Roadhouse. Come on.”

***

Bobby drove a little ahead of you and Dean in the Impala. You were still driving due to the fact that you didn’t want Dean’s reckless driving to get the both of you killed before you could help Sam.

When you arrived at the Roadhouse, though, all you found was a pile of charred wood and ash.

“What the hell?” you breathed out. 

You got out of the car and headed toward where the bar had once stood. You stepped over debris looking around for any sign of Ash, Ellen, or Jo. You were pretty sure Jo was still working at that bar Meg had found her at, but you knew that somewhere in the rubble would be the bodies of Ash and Ellen.

“Oh, my god,” Bobby muttered. He stepped up behind you.

“You see Ellen?” Dean asked you and Bobby. 

“No. No Ash, either,” Bobby replied.

You pulled in a sharp breath upon noticing Ash’s watch in a pile of rubble. “Oh, fucking hell,” you breathed out. 

“Oh, Ash, damn it!” Dean grunted.

You couldn’t take standing in the debris anymore. You moved back to the Impala and leaned against it, facing away from where the Roadhouse once stood. 

Bobby walked up behind you a moment later. “This is…” he trailed off.

“What the hell did Ash know? We’ve got no way of knowing where Ellen is. Or if she’s even alive. We’ve got no clue what Ash was gonna tell us. Now, how the hell are we gonna find Sam?” Dean questioned, pacing between you and Bobby. 

“I don’t know, Dean, but we’re gonna, okay?” you said.

Suddenly, Dean clutched his head in pain. 

“Dean?” you asked.

He groaned and doubled over. You rushed to catch him before he collapsed to the ground. Dean suddenly stood back up, still furrowing his brow and clutching his head.

“What was that?” Bobby asked.

“I don’t know. A headache?” Dean guessed.

Bobby scoffed. “You get headaches like that a lot?”

“No. Must be the stress,” he chuckled. “I could have sworn I saw something.”

“What do you mean? Like a vision? Like what Sam gets?” Bobby asked, interest piqued.

“What? No!”

“Dean, what’d you see?” you asked.

Suddenly, he doubled over again. 

“Dean!”

The older Winchester fell against you in pain.

“Dean! Hey!” you said, grabbing the side of his face.

“I saw Sam,” Dean panted, suddenly coming to. “I saw him, (Y/N).”

“It was a vision,” Bobby said.

“Yeah. I don’t know how, but yeah. Whew. That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels,” Dean chuckled.

“What else did you see?” you asked.

“Uh,” he thought for a moment, “there was a bell.”

“What kind of bell?” you asked.

“Like a big bell with some kind of engraving on it, I don’t know,” Dean shook his head.

“Wait, engraving?” you questioned. “Was it a tree? Like, an oak tree?”

Dean seemed surprised and confused. “Yeah, exactly.”

“I know where Sam is,” you said. “Cold Oak, South Dakota. It’s the most, like, notoriously demonic town ever. All the inhabitants fled. It’s surrounded by miles of woods.”

“Okay, well, let’s go,” Dean urged, immediately moving to the driver’s side of the Impala.

“Wait, Dean—” you tried.

“No, (Y/N), I’m driving.” Dean left no room for protesting.

You slipped into the driver’s seat wordlessly, shooting a concerned look at Bobby. He returned it, but nodded to reassure you. 

The drive to Cold Oak was completed mostly in silence, clutching the door handle as Dean sped well over the speed limit. 

“Dean,” you tried about two hours into the drive. 

“Hm.”

You reached out for his hand to wordlessly support him. He returned your gesture and squeezed your hand, offering a stiff, tight-lipped smile. You knew he appreciated your support, even though he couldn’t verbally express it.

***

Night had fallen by the time you reached the town of Cold Oak. With guns shouldered, you trudged through miles of woods. Suddenly, you came to the edge of the town. You saw Sam fighting with a man in an army uniform, who he knocked on the ground. 

“Sam!” Dean called as the three of you hurried toward him.

Sam smiled, “Dean!”

Suddenly, you saw the man on the ground behind him get up and grab a knife from the ground next to him. “Sam, look out!” you cried, running toward him.

The man drove the knife through Sam’s back.

“No!” Dean screamed, and your concern for Sam was quickly replaced by anger and hatred toward the man who’d twisted the knife in the younger brother’s back. 

You sprinted after him, running as fast as your legs could possibly carry you. Just before the man reached the tree line, you stopped and raised your shotgun. You barely had time to aim before you needed to take your shot, otherwise he would disappear into the trees and become impossible to find. You fired once, then reloaded, then fired again. Your heart dropped when you realized you missed him.

“Fuck!” you cursed.

“(Y/N)! Get your ass back here!” Bobby called.

You ran back to where Bobby stood over a crying Dean on his knees holding a slumped over Sam. 

“Oh, Jesus, his back’s bleedin’ really bad,” you said. “Dean, hold on, I’ll just go back to the car ‘n—”

“He’s gone, (Y/N),” Bobby said gently. “Sam’s gone.”

“Oh, my god,” you cried. Tears began to stream down your face as you fell to your knees next to the boys. Dean refused to let go of his brother, and you put your head against Sam’s shoulder, crying silently. You hugged Dean with your left arm to try and support him and brushed a hand over Sam’s hair with the other. “Oh, god,” you murmured into the back of Sam’s shoulder. You sniffled and suddenly remembered you needed to be strong for Dean. You rose from the floor and wiped your eyes. “Um, let’s get him into that inn. Gotta be a mattress in there. We can, uh, lay him down till we figure out what to do with him.”

“We’re not doin’ anything with him, (Y/N),” Dean warned firmly. 

“Still, c’mon,” you said, beginning to help Dean get his brother’s body up the stairs of the building. You laid him on a mattress in the corner of a room on the second floor. 

You sat wordlessly on the bed, resting your hand below Sam’s knee, and Dean sat in a chair he’d pulled up to the side of the mattress.

Neither of you said anything for hours until Bobby returned.

“Dean? Brought this back for you and (Y/N),” Bobby said hesitantly, holding up a bucket of fried chicken.

“No, thanks. I'm fine,” Dean replied.

“You should eat something,” you urged, taking the bucket from Bobby. “Thanks, by the—”

Dean cut you off harshly. “I said I’m fine.” He took a swig from the bottle of whiskey in his hand. 

“Dean…” Bobby trailed off. “I hate to bring this up, I really do. But don't you think maybe it's time... we bury Sam?”

“No,” Dean nearly growled.

You tried your best to speak gently. “Dean, I think we should. I get it if you don’t wanna do a hunter’s funeral, but—”

“Hell no, (Y/N). Stop.”

“I want you to come with me,” Bobby said.

“I'm not going anywhere,” Dean replied.

“Dean, please,” you begged.

“Would you cut me some slack?” He stood from his chair.

“I just don't think you should be alone, that's all. I gotta admit, I could use your help,” Bobby explained.

Dean snorted coldly.

“Something big is going down— end-of-the-world big,” Bobby continued.

Dean yelled, turning to Bobby, “Then let it end!”

You shook your head. “You don’t mean that.”

“You don't think so? Huh?” Dean was suddenly in your face.

You held your ground. “Back up, Dean.”

Dean didn’t listen, continuing to chastise you. “You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough? I'm done with it. All of it. And if you know what's good for you, you'd turn around, and get the hell out of here.”

Bobby stepped closer to the two of you. “Dean, she’s just trying to—”

Dean suddenly shoved Bobby. “Go!” he roared.

You shoved Dean back before he could do anything else he’d regret. “Hey! When you’re ready to get in control of yourself, you fucking let us know. Let’s go, Bobby.”

You turned on your heel, Dean muttering shocked apologies that grew more distant as you left the inn.

*** You and Bobby sat in silence in his living room, each nursing a beer. 

“It’s a little early for drinking, but hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere,” you’d said when you retrieved a beer from Bobby’s fridge, trying to raise your own spirits.

“Bobby, I know Dean,” you started, staring at the ground. “I’m scared he’s gonna do somethin’ stupid.”

“Don’t worry, kid, I’ll send him straight to hell if he does,” Bobby responded.

You tried to laugh, but even your laugh sounded sad. Silence fell between the two of you for a moment.

“This really isn’t good, Bobby,” you murmured. “Not even just for Dean. Sam’s my best friend. He reminds me of my little brother so much sometimes it’s scary. I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do without him. I don’t even wanna talk to Dean right now after the way he treated both of us—”

Bobby tried to cut you off. “(Y/N), he’s grievin’—”

“I don’t care! You don’t treat people like that,” you replied. “I’m pissed at him. But he’s all I got left aside from you. It’s like everyone I ever care about ends up dead. My parents, my brother, now Sam.”

“Kid, I think that’s every hunter,” Bobby coaxed. “How much family do I got? How much does Dean have? This line of work, nobody gets out without losin’ someone.”

You nodded, staring at the ground thoughtfully still. “It just sucks, man. I want Dean to be happy. I want you to be happy. I wanna be happy. I mean, that Djinn gave me a taste of what my life would be like without hunting, and I still wasn’t satisfied. Maybe I’m just not meant to be happy.”

“It’s all in what you make of it. It’s not fun by any means, but I’d take this life over normal any day.”

You nodded. “Me, too.” *** Later, you were shooting beer cans off the top of a fence to blow off some steam. Nothing was seeming to work, though. You noticed some sandbags Bobby had piled against the side of the garage and hurled your gun at it. Chest heaving, you picked up one of the bags and threw it to the ground. You got down on top of it and punched over and over and over again until your knuckles bled and bruised. Your hands shook as you looked down at them, tears streaming down your face. You let yourself scream out in frustration with everything that had been happening these last few weeks. First, the prison guard. Then, the Djinn, and now, you’d lost your best friend. And you were surely about to lose another one. Whichever direction this was going to send Dean, it wasn’t going to end up being good.

You sat in the yard behind Bobby’s house for hours until stars started to appear in the sky. Numbly, you moved back into Bobby’s house. Bobby was nowhere around, and you settled for sleeping on his surprisingly comfortable couch with a crocheted blanket wrapped around your body. You curled into yourself and eventually settled into a dreamless sleep. 

***

A knock on the door pulled your attention away from your journal. Your socked feet padded across the floor to your shoes, and then to the door. You opened it and nearly gasped in surprise at the sight of Sam standing in front of you with Dean.

“Hey, (Y/N),” Dean said.

You turned in an attempt to wordlessly communicate with the older brother, but he looked away almost immediately. 

“Sam,” you breathed out.

“Hey, (Y/N/N).” Sam wrapped you in a hug, stepping into Bobby’s kitchen. You tried to relax into your friend’s embrace, but you couldn’t at the horrible thought of what Dean may have done to himself to get Sam back.

“Sam,” Bobby suddenly sid from behind you. “It's good to... see you up and around.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. He looked back down at you when he pulled away from your hug. “Thanks for patching me up.”

“Don’t mention it,” you replied; the words feeling more reflexive to you than having any true weight to them. You tried to resist staring Dean down, but he seemed to be getting the message nonetheless. 

“Well Sam's better. And we're back in it now, so... what do you know?” Dean chuckled.

“Dean,” you spat. “Outside. Now.”

Sam seemed confused, but you marched out the front door with no explanation.

As soon as you made it far enough away from the house that Sam couldn’t see you through the window, you wheeled around to face Dean. “What the fuck did you do?!” you yelled, gripping the edges of his jacket resting against his chest.

“(Y/N)—”

Hot, angry tears streamed down your face. “What did you do, you fucking idiot? You made a deal? Huh?”

“I couldn’t just let him die, (Y/N),” Dean uttered.

“That’s exactly what you were supposed to do! How do you think Sam’s gonna feel when he finds out, huh?! Because I know you didn’t tell him,” you argued. “I cannot believe you!” You turned away from him and ran a hand through your hair. “How long did they give you?”

“(Y/N)—”

“How long, Dean?”

“One year.”

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut. 

“Which is why we gotta find this yellow-eyed son of a bitch. That's why I'm gonna kill him myself. I mean, I got nothing to lose now, right?” the man continued.

You wheeled back around to him, eyes blazing. “Nothing to lose?”

“I'm not even supposed to be here, (Y/N)!” Dean protested. “My dad died for me. At least this way, something good could come out of it, you know? I-I— It's like my life could mean something.”

“What, and it didn’t before?! You seriously think that little of yourself?” you questioned angrily. “Fuck you, Dean!”

“(Y/N), please—”

You cut Dean off. “No! Don’t tell me to understand. Because I can’t. I fucking knew you’d do something like this.”

“Why does it bother you so much?!” Dean roared, stepping closer to you.

“Because I love you, goddammit!” You stumbled back from him when you realized what you’d just admitted. Stunned, you brushed past him to go grab your bag from inside Bobby’s house. 

“(Y/N)!” Dean called after you, but you wouldn’t turn back. You continued to the house, wordlessly grabbed your bag from next to the couch, and headed out to Bobby’s garage.

“(Y/N), where are you—” Bobby started.

You cut him off. “I’ll call you later.”

You grabbed one of the sets of keys off the wall of Bobby’s garage, hoping the car worked, and marched out to it. Thankfully, the sedan started, and you pulled away from the junkyard. 

Angry tears streamed from your eyes as you white-knuckled the steering wheel. You were unbelievably angry with Dean, and the fact that he would be gone in a year was too much for you to bear. 

You drove for hours and ignored calls from both brothers and Bobby. As evening fell, you found a remote crossroad in southern Wyoming. You dug forcefully into the gravel and shoved an Altoid tin filled with everything needed to summon a crossroads demon into the dirt below. You covered it with the displaced gravel and stood back up. 

“Funny seeing you here,” a sultry voice purred from behind you.

You turned to see a beautiful woman in a sleek black dress with glowing red eyes staring you up and down. 

“How do I get Dean out of his deal?” you asked firmly. 

She laughed coldly. “Ooh, cutting straight to the chase.” She sucked in a breath through her teeth and tsked, circling you. “You can’t, hon.”

“And why not?” you hissed.

“That’s way above my paygrade, dollface.”

“Please, c’mon,” you begged. “You could drag me straight to Hell right now if that’s what it takes.”

The demon hummed. “As much as I’d love that, no can do.”

“Why?” Your voice broke as you asked.

“I can’t break a deal to make another,” she replied simply. “Besides, I don’t hold the contract.”

“Well, who does?” you questioned.

“Why would I tell you,” she smirked. “Goodbye, (Y/N).”

“Wait!” Before you could even get the word out, she was gone. 

You knew the brothers would be going after the yellow-eyed demon and the guy who’d killed Sam, so you finally decided to listen to the singular voicemail Sam had left. Maybe the demon was the key to breaking Dean's deal.

“Hey, (Y/N), uh, Dean won’t talk about why you took off,” his voice began. “I’m hopin’ you’re coming back, so, meet us at Fossil Butte Cemetery in Wyoming. We’re thinkin’ that’s where the demon’s gonna be. Anyways, so… see ya later, I guess.” And then the line went dead.

Fury burning in your eyes, you sped to where Sam said your group would be. It was abandoned for miles around, and you had to drive over about a mile and a half of grass to get anywhere close to the cemetery. When you got out of the car, black smoke suddenly began filling the sky coming from the cemetery you were headed toward. With a gun and knife in hand, you ran to the cemetery and stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of the spiraling smoke pouring out of a crypt facing away from you. You noticed Bobby and Ellen hiding behind a tombstone and felt momentarily relief at the fact that Ellen was still alive. However, your relief was short lived when you saw Dean being thrown through the air by an invisible force and down against a tombstone. 

‘The demon,’ you thought, creeping around the right side of the crypt. You saw the demon saying something to Dean while Sam stood pinned against a tree. The demon’s back was to you, and you could hear what he was saying more clearly as you moved toward him.

You couldn’t pay any mind to it, though, and you took the demon’s distraction as an opportunity to jump on its back and wrestle the Colt away from him. The demon yelped in surprise as you grabbed the gun and held on for dear life; throwing yourself over the demon’s shoulder to try and yank it out of his hand. 

You succeeded in getting it away from him much to your surprise, and you pushed yourself up to see the ghost of John Winchester wrestling with a cloud of black smoke shaped like a man. The body the yellow-eyed demon had been possessing had fallen to the ground, dead, and the cloud of smoke pushed John to the ground. 

It rejoined its body and stood, turning its venomous gaze toward you. A smile spread across your face, and you shot the demon square between its eyes. The yellow-eyed demon fell to the ground, dead. 

You rushed over to where you noticed Bobby and Ellen trying to close the gate the demons and ghosts were pouring out of, completely ignoring John and his boys. You helped Ellen shove the door closed with one final push and leaned back against it, panting. You turned around just in time to see John disappear into a haze of white light. 

The brothers stood over the demon’s body, and you turned to Ellen. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” you told her. “And I’m sorry about the Roadhouse.”

She nodded and smiled half-heartedly at you. “Jo wasn’t there, so, uh, that’s all that matters, I guess.”

You nodded, unsure of what else to say. 

“Kid,” Bobby started, and you turned to him. “What happened with Dean that made you leave?”

“Bobby—”

“Look, ya don’t have to tell me. But at least say ‘goodbye’ next time,” he softly scolded you. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t,” you replied.

He paused for a moment. “Are you gonna leave again?”

You stared at the ground. “I’m not gonna watch Dean die.”

He nodded. “Will you call every once in a while?”

You grinned sadly. “Of course.” You wrapped Bobby in a hug, and Sam and Dean walked up behind you. 

“Good shootin’ back there, sweetheart.”

Your heart almost broke at the nickname, but you steeled yourself and turned to face the brothers. “Thanks,” you told Dean shortly. “I’ll see you around, guys.”

“Whoa, where you goin’?” Sam questioned.

You gave him a hug and cupped his cheek. “I’ll call you when I figure it out.” You lightly patted his cheek and turned away without saying another word to Dean. You could practically feel his eyes staring you down as you walked out of the cemetery and back to your car.

*** The Colt cast a heavy air over your— well, Bobby’s— sedan as it peeked out of your duffel bag. Even though it had no bullets left, its mere presence was putting a target on your back that you were well aware of.

You knew that simply killing the yellow-eyed demon wasn’t going to be enough to break Dean’s contract. You weren’t sure how, but come hell or high water, you would figure it out. 

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[highdefhoetry]

Just for the night.

cw: nsfw!! female reader, lots of sexual tension and buildup, casual sex/hookup, premature ejaculation, oral sex (vaginal), blowjobs, penetration (brief vaginal fingering & penis in vagina), spanking, biting, light breast play/nipple sucking, cumming in mouth, missionary and doggy style, creampie, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, no use of (y/n)

summary: a wayfaring group of pirates come into your tavern while you're on the clock, and a certain swordsman catches your eye.

author's note: i JUST started watching one piece and i've only made it to the reverse mountain arc, this fic takes place sometime in between arlong park and loungetown!

It had been an interesting night at work. The town was throwing some kind of festival, quite common during this time of the year, and the bar had been nonstop busy ever since your boss had opened the doors. You lost count long ago of how many beers you’d poured, how many wooden kegs you’d refilled, how many plates of piping hot food you’d served, and how many times you’d avoided unwanted groping from eager hands. You’d earned some good money, though, which almost made it worthwhile. 

The most interesting part of the night, however, were the new faces who’d shown up earlier that evening. A ragtag group who claimed to be pirates had come into the tavern for a drink and a good time after getting wind of the local festivities, joining the celebration that had begun a couple hours ago. The self-proclaimed captain of the weirdos, a rubber man donning a straw hat and flip flops, had joined some of the patron in a meat eating contest and was currently on his way to beat the reigning champ. His navigator, a young redhead with a charming smile and big, bright eyes, was schmoozing some poor bastard who was too drunk to notice her slipping his wallet out of his pocket. Then there was the blonde Frenchman, a casanova type who was hitting on a few of your giggling coworkers. A cigarette dangles from his lips, which he ashes on the floor. 

Truly, they were the definition of a motley crew.

It’s now halfway through your shift, and orders have died down considerably. Most of the patrons are passed out at their tables while others are being carried home by their companions. The tavern is still pretty lively, but you manage to sneak away for a moment and catch a breather. You pour yourself a cup of water and take a sip as you watch the chaos unfold. 

As you continue looking around, silently observing the chaotic scene, the sight of sea green catches your eye. You notice a stern-looking man mulling in the far corner, sipping on a giant mug with a frown. He looks a bit out of place, but you remember seeing him come in with those straw hat freaks earlier. You hear the rubber man call out to him, something about a dance-off or whatever, and the green-haired man barks out a loud “No!” before crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall again with a scowl.

Very interesting, indeed. 

Who could this man be?

“Are you serious?! That’s the Roronoa Zoro?”

“I’m not lying!! Look at his waist, don’t you see those swords he’s carrying? Only Roronoa Zoro uses the three sword technique! It has to be him!”

The annoying, high pitched voices of your coworkers garners your attention. You turn to look at the three frightened waitresses, who are currently huddled behind the bar in an attempt to avoid the scowling man’s gaze. 

“Someone’s gotta bring him his sake. He ordered it like an hour ago.”

“No way. I’m not going near him! He’ll probably kill me just for looking at him!”

“Well I’m not going over there! I’m not risking my life for a few dollars.”

It was the perfect excuse to approach him. You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance as you grab the tray from their hands.

“Fine. I’ll go. You damn scaredy cats.”

Your comment earns a few glares, but you pay them no mind. You fill the giant mug with sake and waltz over to the sullen swordsman. Someone starts playing the accordion; someone else grabs a fiddle. The tavern turns into a dance floor, and its drunk patrons cry out in excitement while they fall over one another trying to get there.

You approach this so-called Roronoa Zoro, but before you can get a word out, he says,

“I’m not going to dance, if that’s what you came to ask me.”

You raise a brow in confusion. “What?”

“You came all the way over here to talk to me, didn’t you? I can tell you got somethin’ you wanna ask. Get it over with already and stop wasting my time.”

Was this guy for real? You scoff and slam the tray down on the table in front of him.

“You ordered sake, didn’t you?”

He narrows his eyes. “How’d you know that?”

“I work here?”

You give him a perplexed look, and he responds with a wide-eyed stare before mentally facepalming himself. He grabs the mug from the tray and mutters a “took you long enough” before taking a huge gulp. 

Up close, you can see more of his features. He was tall, handsome, and quite muscular. His skin was tan, kissed by the sun after many days spent traveling the seas. He donned three gold dangling earrings in his left ear and had a black cloth tied around his forearm. His muscled arms bulged in his thin white shirt, and you could see a thin sheet of sweat on his exposed chest. Then, of course, there was that odd seagreen colored hair, which, as far as you could tell, was completely natural. You’d never seen anyone who looked like him before, and it intrigued you deeply. You couldn’t stop staring, even when he caught you looking from the corner of his eye.

“I take it you’re not a fan of dancing?” you ask in a weak attempt to make conversation.

He grunts in response. With arms crossed again, he lets out a sigh and gazes at the crowd on the dance floor, his expression cold and unfriendly.

He must not have been a fan of talking, either. You’re about to leave when suddenly your eyes meet, and his gaze captures your attention. Those eyes… something about them made it impossible to look away. They were deep chesnut brown, and held both a fiery passion and a deep sadness that tugged at your heartstrings…

“What’s the matter? Is there somethin’ on my face?”

The gruff voice snaps you out of it. You shake your head vigorously.

“No! It’s just… you’re not from around here, are you?”

He scoffs, shifting in place.

“No. I’m not.”

“You must be with that weird pirate crew who came in earlier.”

“Yup. That’s my idiot captain over there,” he juts his chin in the same direction as the straw hat man, who was laughing and jumping around like a little kid. You stifle a laugh, wondering how the hell these two ended up on the same crew together. 

“And you are?”

“Roronoa Zoro. His right hand man.”

So your coworkers were right, after all. You’d never heard of him, but apparently he was well-known. You didn’t see why they were so scared of him, though. He seemed like a regular guy, apart from the three swords and grumpiness.

“Well? Are you gonna tell me your name or what?”

“Oh!” You snap yourself out of it and tell him your name. He grunts again.

“Huh. That’s fitting.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothin’. Nevermind.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face. Subtle, but noticeable. That must’ve been his strange way of teasing you. You decide to let it go for now.

“Why are you sulking around back here? Don’t you wanna join in on the fun?” you ask, keeping your tone light and playful.

Zoro raises an eyebrow and takes another sip of his sake, his eyes fixated on the lively crowd.

“Too loud in there… Luffy’s laugh gives me a headache.”

“Yeah, it has gotten a bit rowdy. Tends to happen at this time of night.”

He nods in agreement. “So… don’t you need to get back to work or somethin’?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No,” he murmurs. “Just wouldn’t want you to get caught slacking off.”

You give him a cheeky little smile. “I’m hiding. It’s been crazy busy all night and I need a breather.”

He grunts again, leaning back against the wall.

“I don’t blame you… I hide from Luffy quite often.”

He says it with a smirk, but chuckles when he looks over at Luffy and the others. He was acting like he was irritated, yet he spoke of his captain with fondness and admiration. You could tell he cared about him deeply, despite his grievances. It gave you a warm fuzzy feeling that made you smile again.

“My shift’s almost over, anyway. And most of the other waitresses are caught up with that French guy over there,” You point at the blonde guy on the other side of the room, who’s still surrounded by your swooning coworkers. 

“Tch. Typical.”

The conversation lulls again, but it feels less awkward this time. You lean back against the wall, mirroring his body language, and go back to being a silent observer. He appears to do the same. He seems a bit more relaxed, though. He’s not as closed off as he was before you started speaking.

“Soooo… how’s the sake?”

He glances over at you, sets the mug on the table.

“Actually, it’s very good. I’m liking it a lot. Been awhile since I’ve had the good stuff.”

Your eyes dart to his drink. “I’ve never had that kind before.”

“You want some…?”

“Don’t mind if I do!”

You grab the mug before he can say another word and take a huge swig. It goes down smoother than you thought it would. The taste is light and refreshing, the perfect drink to end a long night of work.

“Damn, that’s good sake! I can’t believe I haven’t tried it until now!”

He chuckles quietly, a small smile creeping up his face. It was kinda cute. Made him look even more handsome. Although his grumpy scowl was cute in its own way, too.

“You have good taste.”

“Mind if I have another?”

He gestures his hands towards the mug. “Be my guest.”

The two of you hit it off, chatting about this and that for some time while the party raged on around you. The sound of lively chatter fell to the background as you inched closer to one another, until it felt like you were the only ones in the room. As the night went on, more and more people started to head home, except for a few of the regulars and the straw hats who lingered in the main room. By the time your coworkers started closing up, you were already pretty buzzed from the egregious amount of sake you’d had. You reach for the bottle again but realize it’s empty.

“...Ah, sorry, I drank a lot of your sake…” you frown, feeling a little guilty for drinking most of his order. “Want me to grab you another one? It’ll be on the house.”

“Eh, it’s fine. But thanks,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he turns towards you, towering over your head with one arm braced on the wall beside your head. “I’m sure.”

He’s so close. You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating. The smell of sea salt and sweaty man wafts in the air. His eyes bore into you, analyzing your face and body, as if he’s waiting for your next move.

“So…” you start, rubbing your lips together. “Did you all get rooms here for the night?”

“We did. Why?”

You shrug, trying to force back a smile.

“Just wondering.”

He raises an eyebrow, looks you up and down.

“If you wanna see me so bad, you don’t need to be coy about asking.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure ya don’t.”

Pause. Something crashes down on the floor; you both look just in time to see Luffy falling down with a large meat bone sticking out of his mouth. You splutter out a laugh, but are silenced when a strong hand takes your chin and pulls it back towards Zoro, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“You’re not being very honest,” he growls, and your heart skips a beat.

“That’s rich, coming from a pirate,” you bite back, hiding how flustered you are behind a bratty facade.

“...Hah, touché.”

He lets go of your chin, but keeps his eyes on you. There seems to be an impasse. The two of you dance around your subtle attempts to flirt, as if waiting to see which one will misstep first. The tension was so thick you felt like you could reach out and touch it with your hand. Those beautiful brown eyes of his gaze deeply into your own, never faltering for even a second.

“It’s getting late,” he says.

“It sure is,” you respond, breath hitching in your chest. “Do you need an escort to your room?”

His eyes grow wide for a moment, then he lets out a chuckle and shakes his head. 

“Now you decide to be bold.”

He gets off the wall and nods his head toward the staircase leading up to the guest rooms. You move to follow him, but stand up a little too quickly and feel a rush of blood go to your head, stumbling as you take a step forward. He catches you, grabbing your waist with his strong hands before you can fall.

“Jeez, are you really that drunk?” he grumbles, placing your arm across his shoulders and steadying you with an arm wrapped around the small of your back. You’re really not that drunk, but there’s nothing wrong with a little white lie and some bad acting to get close to someone, right?

“Shut up…” you mumble. “I just drank it too fast, that’s all.”

His firm hand, his strong arms carrying you, his low baritone voice growling in your ear… he really was handsome… or maybe it was the sake getting to your head. Either way, you feel your cheeks flush as he leads you upstairs, taking cautious steps to ensure you don’t trip and fall.

For some reason, it takes longer than it should have to get there. He stumbles around, checking each door and dragging you down every single damn hallway with you leaning against his body for balance. You start to get the sense that he doesn't know where the hell he's going. That is, until you finally stop at the last door on the left.

"Are you sure this is the right room?" you ask, suddenly feeling uncertain.

“Tch... shut up you damn lightweight…” he mumbles while fishing out his key. Once he turns the lock, you both go inside and shut the door behind you.

It’s a small, simple room, but one that serves its purpose. The bed takes up most of the space, and fortunately it’s just large enough to fit two. You plop down on the bed, still feeling a bit dizzy, and pat the empty space beside you. 

He lets out a small sigh before sitting down.

“Just so you know, it’s… been a while,” he grumbles sheepishly in a low voice, scratching the back of his head. You smile and put your hand on his thigh, slowly caressing it as you climb further and further. Your palm brushes against his crotch, where you feel his hardened cock poking through his pants.

“That’s alright. Same for me.”

You lock your gaze with his, falling silent as you both drink in the moment. Then, in tandem, the two of you lean forward. You feel his lips press against you, and the taste of sake greets your tongue. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You respond by putting a hand on the back of his neck, gently scratching at the buzzed hair on his scalp. He moans deeply, kissing you harder. Your tongue dances with his, your teeth gently bite his bottom lip. 

Your clumsy hands fumble as you try to undo his belt buckle and zipper. Eventually he lends a hand, yanking his pants down his legs before tossing them across the room along with his heavy boots. You hear a small crash; he cringes with furrowed brows while you giggle. But your laughter dies down when you look at his newly exposed cock and see what he’s been hiding under those clothes.

He’s huge. You’re not sure how big he is, but his dick is the biggest you’ve ever seen up close. It’s not that girthy, but makes up for that in length alone. If you had to guess it was at least 8 inches. It’s slightly paler than the rest of his body, a faint shade of tan lighter than his arms and legs. And it’s almost perfectly straight, with no curves or crookedness. You watch in awe as it throbs and pulses.

Without a word, you lean forward and take him into your mouth. You start off slow, simply sucking and licking the tip, and as soon as your lips wrap around his cock he lets out a long, deep, groan of pleasure. His dick tastes salty, but clean, as if he showered recently. Hygienic, for a pirate. After teasing him for a bit, you take his member into your mouth and slowly drag your lips and tongue down his shaft…

But suddenly, he lets out a strained cry, and you feel an explosion of warmth in your mouth. His dick pulses rapidly as he lets loose his load, filling your mouth with a salty, warm taste that you swallow instinctively. It goes limp after a few seconds. He pants heavily as he pulls it from your mouth.

“...Gahhh… Sorry…” he mutters, his face turning beet red. He won’t look at you, won’t even lift his head. It was cute seeing him all embarrassed. You couldn’t be mad that he came so quickly; after all, he’d warned you ahead of time, and the fast cum gave you something of a power rush. You wanted to tease him playfully, but figured he didn’t need another bruise to his pride right now.

Instead, you grab his chin and force him to look at you. You say nothing, leaning forward to kiss him so he could taste himself on your lips. At first he’s tense and uncertain, but soon he relaxes when he realizes you’re not going to kick him while he’s down. 

The kiss gets more intense, more demanding; he grabs the back of your head and gently pulls your hair at the base of your scalp, eliciting fluttered, airy moans from your lips. He kisses across your cheek, down your jaw and neck, lips fluttering against sensitive skin. Your moans grow louder when he tears your shirt, pulling the sleeves down your shoulders to expose your breasts. A shiver runs through you as your nipples are exposed to the cool air. He takes them in his mouth, sucking and licking your areolas while his hands grope and play with your soft tits. His fingers tease the skin, stroking the undersides of your chest, playing around to see what kind of reactions he can get from you. You alternate between cries of pleasure and fits of giggles, feeling a bit overstimulated. 

He pulls away for a moment, only to bark out an order.

“Lay down.”

You comply, letting him pull your shirt and skirt down over your hips and legs so he can admire your nude body. He pauses for a second to relish the sight of your nakedness before grabbing your thighs and holding them apart. Then, he buries his handsome face in your mound, right where it belongs. You moan loudly while he kisses your folds, presses his tongue against your clit, licks the entrance to your hole. It feels so fucking good, you find yourself clawing at his scalp in attempt to grab fistfuls of his short buzzed hair. He chuckles, confidence restored now that he’s brought you to the edge. He stays there, committed to your pleasure, until he’s certain you’re ready to take him. You feel his stick one of his thick fingers inside you for a moment, gasping as he tests your wetness. He smirks down at you once he feels how slippery you are.

Your eyes glance down quickly. His dick is fully erect once more. This man got hard just from eating you out; it makes you want him even more. He leans forward, bracing himself with both arms beside your head, kissing you while guiding his cock into your pussy. You gasp again when the tip pushes inside and cry out when he shoves the rest in without warning. He quietly grunts out a raspy "fuck", and you get the sense that he’s restraining himself. He lets out short, jagged breaths as he pumps himself inside you. In and out, in and out, steadily increasing in intensity and speed. The smack of your skin against his in rhythm with your moans.

He slows down after some time, panting heavily while he pulls out. His cock still throbs as he holds it, and from his expression you can tell it’s taking everything in him not to explode. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and gives you another command.

“Turn around.”

You flip onto your stomach, then raise your ass in the air for more. His lips trail a path of kisses on each cheek, biting down now and then to keep you on edge. He chuckles every time he hears your little cries, bites a little harder to see how far he can go. Then suddenly, he takes his spanks you hard with his huge hand, causing you to shriek in both pleasure and pain.

“Ouch! God damn it, warn me next time!” you turn back to glare at him, getting a cheeky grin in response. He grips your cheeks, giving you another hard smack. 

“Here’s your warning.”

You don’t bother complaining this time. It feels too fucking good. The way he’s grabbing your hips, pushing his tip inside before ramming his dick into your hole while you cry out over and over, spanking you again and again until your cheeks are reddened and sore. From this angle he’s hitting all the right spots. You feel mindless pleasure, like your brain’s gone blank and all you can think of is his deep thrusts and sexy, guttural groans. He’s quiet, yet intense, focusing entirely on fucking you as hard and deep as possible. An orgasm rips through your body, sending electrifying shocks rippling every single nerve ending, but he doesn’t stop there. He’s close, you can sense it. A few moments later he comes again, releasing another heavy load inside you. His cock throbs as his cum fills you up, and he doesn’t pull out until he’s damn finished. And when he is, he collapses on the bed next to you, with a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his bronze skin.

You roll onto your back, taking a minute to catch your breath. You listen to your own unsteady breathing along with his, enjoying the quiet moment and the leftover waves of pleasure washing over your body. After a few minutes, you turn over and start to say something before realizing he’s fast asleep. He snores quietly, arms resting behind his head as he peacefully drifts into slumber.

He looks even cuter when he’s asleep. You laugh softly and nestle yourself in a cozy spot next to him before falling asleep yourself.

—-

The next morning, you carefully unwrap yourself from him and grab your clothes lying haphazardly on the floor. You start to dress yourself, but realize your shirt’s completely wrecked thanks to Zoro’s dumbass ripping it off your shoulders last night. You mutter in irritation and grab his shirt instead. He owed you that much.

As you make your way out of the room, you take one last look at the handsome swordsman and blow him a kiss goodbye before carefully shutting the door behind you. 

You had a lot of fun, even if it was just for the night. You’ll always remember him for that. Alas, he was a pirate, and soon he’d be gone, heading back to the sea in search of adventure.

But he would always know where to find you. 

[chvoswxtch]

hi! could i request a fic where frank is helping reader with urges to relapse in s3lf h@rm? or maybe they already relapsed? if this is not something you’re comfortable writing please feel free to just ignore this :) i’m struggling w/ this lately so it’s just self indulgent for me lmao and your writing is ADDICTIVE. you have such a talent and i hope you’re doing well!! x

my sweet sweet sweet nonnie. I am sending you all the love I possibly can. I am so sorry that you are struggling. I know what it's like to struggle with this, and I promise you it does get better. I know everyone says that and sometimes those words can sound so hollow, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart. it can't rain all the time darling 🖤

I hope you are doing well today, and I hope this brings you the comfort that you need. thank you for trusting me with this, and know that I love you and am so proud of you

just a quick psa to everyone on my frank taglist, because this is such a sensitive topic, i'm not tagging anyone in this one. if you are not comfortable with this topic or if it could be triggering for you, please sit this one out. you will not hurt my feelings, I promise.

warning: mentions of depression & self harm word count: 775

let it out.

Frank noticed everything. He was trained to look for subtle clues of threats everywhere, to anticipate them and quickly conjure a counterattack, or eliminate them before they even got a chance to strike. After that tragic day in Central Park, his sense of hypervigilance only became even more extreme. 

Which is why he knew that things were getting bad for you again.

He could see it. That bright sparkle in your eyes that could put the stars to shame grew more and more dim until it was nothing more than achromatic ash. The heaviness weighing down on your chest that turned the subconscious act of breathing into a relentless struggle and made your movements lethargic was like an astral presence only his eyes could detect. He could hear it in your voice, the melodic warmth replaced by an echoing numbness. It seemed as though each day another of your vibrant petals withered and fell until you were rendered a bare and hollow stem.

It killed Frank to see you like this. He wanted so badly to help, he just didn’t know how. You wouldn’t talk to him about it, wouldn’t tell him what you needed. But he didn’t get upset with you, because he figured you might not even know what you needed. He was growing increasingly worried because nothing he was doing seemed to help at all. Fear was an emotion Frank very rarely experienced, but he was terrified that he’d lose you to your own cruel mind. 

Things were bad right now, but it would pass. You’d fallen from the clouds of progression, backsliding until the cold hard impact of relapse bruised and rattled your bones, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t find your way back up again. It didn’t erase all the breakthroughs in your recovery. And if you couldn’t make it back up on your own, Frank would carry you himself.

Frank sat with you in the bath, enveloping you in the comfort of his body and the hot water, hoping it would soothe you. Taking care of yourself had become as hard as getting out of bed, but it was okay. He could help you with that. He’d washed your hair, taking his time to massage your scalp before gently rinsing the shampoo out completely. His large and calloused hands slowly and tenderly lathered your skin in the suds of your body wash, not missing a single inch of you. 

Your face was as blank as a pure canvas, but there was raw sorrow in your eyes and agony building up along your lash line. Frank held onto you tightly, tracing your self-inflicted scars with the pad of his thumb, applying pressure with each stroke while he spoke quietly in your ear.

“I know it hurts, baby. But you ain’t gotta let it out that way. You can get the hurt out without hurtin’ yourself. You gotta feel it, sweetheart. I know you don’t wanna, I know it feels like it’s too much, but you can’t distract yourself with a different kinda pain. It ain’t gonna make this one go away.”

Frank knew you were listening. He could see the saltwater slipping down your cheeks, your expressionless face slowly morphing into a portrait of unrefined grief. He pressed his lips softly to each of your scars, holding you even tighter in a protective embrace.

“It’s gotta heal from the inside, baby. I know it’s hard, but you ain’t gotta do this alone. I’m right here, sweetheart. Just let go, I got you.”

He could tell that you were fighting it. That you were scared once you opened that door, a tidal wave of misery would devour you entirely and trap you beneath the current until you drowned, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. His deep voice was laced with sincerity and promise as he spoke into your ear again.

“I got you.”

The choked sob that caught in your throat broke his heart. The wail that tore from the depth of your soul was the worst sound he’d ever heard. Your shoulders shook from the impact of your overwhelming emotions, but when you shattered into a thousand jagged pieces, Frank was there to collect them all. He’d patiently help you put them all back together, no matter how long it took. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, gently rocking you as he soothingly ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a reverent kiss to the crown of your head.

“There ya go, that’s it. Let it all out, sweetheart. Take as long as ya need, I’m right here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere. Just let it all out.”

[justmystyles]

Now You're In My Life - Part 5

catch up here

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: a chance meeting at a diner turns your world upside-down.

warnings: some curse words, but other than that it's tame.

a/n: hey gang, remember how fluffy this has been? well, we took a bit of a turn at the end here. sorry about that. i promise, i'm going to fix it though!

*i say it's a plus size reader, while i don't focus a lot on that aspect (because your size should not define you), it will come up, so i just wanted to be upfront about it.

tags (thank you forever, from the bottom of my icy cold heart to anyone who has asked to be tagged, or interacted/read this story at all. it means the absolute world to me.): @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @brightlightsinlife @cute-as-ducks420 @gem1712 @golden-hoax @groovychaosavenue @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @n0vaj3an @stylesfever @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

Your eyes flutter open as you stretch the sleep out of your body. You reach the king sized bed, pulling your phone off the nightstand to check the time. Instead, you are distracted by a text notification. It’s from Harry. You rub the sleep from your eyes so that you can read the message carefully and unlock the phone. 

I know you said you were just tired, but it felt like more than that. I want to be your safe space, but understand if you are hesitant. I won’t bring it up again, just know that I’m here for you. I’ll see you in a few hours. 

He sent that text at four in the morning. You had Harry so worried about you that instead of resting for his show, he was thinking about you. You needed to find a balance, you didn’t want to get any more attached to him than you already were, but you also didn’t want to be a distraction from his tour. 

You got out of bed and started getting ready, the whole time coming up with a plan for the best way to get through the day. You decided that you had to just go back to how things were this time yesterday. It was your last day with Harry anyway, if this was going to be your last memory of him, it might as well be a good one. 

You hadn’t been told what time to get to the venue today, so you figured you were supposed to get there around the same time as yesterday. Since you had some time to kill, you relaxed on the bed in your leggings and a tank top, watching television until you had to get dressed and head out. 

You were startled by a knock on the door, you weren’t expecting anyone and you definitely had your do not disturb sign up. You approached the entrance and leaned up, looking through the peephole. It was Harry, his hands were behind his back, and he seemed nervous. 

You took a deep breath before opening the door. He looked at you with a questioning expression, and you smiled softly at him, signaling that you were better. He sighed in relief and removed his hands from behind his back, unveiling two Starbucks cups. 

“Trick or treat!” He says, his dimples on full display. 

“Aww Harry, that was really sweet but I don’t–”

“Drink coffee,” he interrupted you. “You told me. It's hot chocolate, the only hot drink you like.” He extended one of the drinks in your direction. 

Fuck, this was going to be a hard day. 

“Thanks,” you took it with a smile. 

As you turned to walk back in the room, Harry cleared his throat, you turned to see he hadn’t entered yet. “What, are you some kind of vampire or something? I’ve gotta invite you in?” 

“Nope, just waiting for my delivery fee.” He arched a brow and tapped his lips with his index finger. 

You chuckle and step up to him, placing your lips to his. “Good morning, Harry.” 

“Good morning, princess.” He smiled before pulling you in again, kissing you deeper this time. “Now, let’s see this room, shall we?”

You guide Harry inside, he lets out a low whistle as he take a look around. “Nice digs.” 

“It’s fine, I’m sure it’s not half as nice as the hotel you’re staying in.” You take a quick glance around the room in case there’s anything you might not want Harry to see.

“Oh, I’m not in a hotel. I have an apartment here.” His eyes catch it before you do, there’s a panic in your face as you rush to the bed, but he gets there first. “Who do we have here?” He pulls a stuffed fox off the bed and looks it over.

You snatch it out of his hands, your face going bright red. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Hey, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, princess.” He brushes a stray hair behind your ear. 

Your gaze drops to the floor, but he puts his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him. “I uh… ugh, this is going to sound so lame and needy.”

“Try me,” he encouraged. 

“When I sleep, I need to have my arms around something. I’m a hug sleeper, so I sleep with that every night.” You look back down at the floor. 

“I knew you were a snuggler,” he smiled, pulling the fox from your hands and dropping it  on the bed before pulling you in close. “I’m going to get you a body pillow with my picture on it. It seems like the only logical solution.” You laugh into his chest and he holds on tighter. “I love making you laugh.” He placed a kiss on the crown of your head. 

“So did you come by just to deliver me a hot chocolate?” You change the subject. 

“Nah, we don’t have to be at the venue until later, so I thought we could go out. Maybe grab a quick lunch, sightseeing, something like that?” 

“That sounds fun. Should I bring my costume for tonight?” You move to your closed while you talk, pulling a long sleeved tee out and over your head. 

“Sure, we can drop it off there on the way. One less thing to worry about later.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, smiling when he looks at the screen. “Goddamned paparazzi.” He laughed. 

“Is everything okay?” You ask, taking a seat at the desk to slide your shoes on. 

“Great actually. Did you know we were being filmed last night?” He holds up his phone, showing you the pictures that Jeff took in Harry’s dressing room. “How cute are we?” 

“The cutest,” you reply, feeling yourself get emotional at the pictures. That moment meant everything to you, and there was photographic evidence of it. 

Harry sends you the pictures and the two of you go on your way. He once again insists on carrying your backpack for you. After dropping it off at MSG, you head to Central Park. Harry’s hand seems glued to yours the whole time. Though you heard a few ‘is that Harry Styles?’ mumbles and some gasps as you travel the streets, people were respectful for the most part, giving you both your space. 

“Y/N?” A voice calls as you stroll through the park.

You and Harry both freeze. “How is it that I’m the celebrity, and you’re the one people are calling for in the streets?” He whispers to you as you turn around. 

Your eyes go wide, and you break into a grin when you see your good friend Andy approaching you. “It is you! You didn’t tell me you were going to be in town!” He wraps you in a bear hug and lifts you off the ground. 

“It was a last minute thing,” you respond as he places your feet back on the ground. 

“Are you here for a concert or a show?” 

“I… uh,” you know if you say concert, he’s going to ask you who, and you’re not sure how to even begin to tackle that. “Uh… a boy actually.” You shrug with a blush. 

Harry takes that as his cue. “Hello, I’m Harry.” 

The men shake hands and Andy looks at you curiously, you know what he’s asking and nod your head. You fall into a bit of small talk, and Harry excuses himself to use the bathroom, allowing you and Andy to catch up for a bit. 

“Y/N, are you dating Harry Styles?” Andy asks once Harry is out of earshot. 

“I honestly have no fucking idea,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. 

“It sure seems like you are, he’s kind of all over you.”

You blush, loving the idea that other people see Harry being affectionate with you. If other people see it, maybe it is something more. You redirect the conversation, afraid to dig too deep into your feelings for Harry, and speculations on his feelings for you. 

Before long Harry returns, stepping up behind you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Princess,” Andy shoots you a knowing look at Harry’s nickname, you shrug him off. “But I think we should be going.” He nods to a few people standing around who have started to pull out their phones, undoubtedly to take pictures and videos of him. 

He knew he was being filmed, but he was still openly affectionate with you. That’s not nothing. 

You said your goodbyes to Andy and went on your way, stopping for a quick slice of pizza before moving on to the Garden. They didn’t have a full sound check like they had the previous day, but there were a couple of songs they wanted to run through before the show. 

Much like the previous day, Harry made sure you weren’t too far from his side the entire time; watching rehearsals from the stage, hanging out with the band and crew at craft services, and even a little makeout session in Harry’s dressing room, until you kicked him out so that you could start getting in your costume. 

He begged to stay at least while you did your hair and makeup, but you insisted it would give everything away. When he pouted and complained, you reminded him that it was his idea to surprise each other with your costumes. You laughed when he stomped out of the room like a child having a temper tantrum. 

You were pretty nervous about this costume, it was a bit of a departure from your princess costume the night before. It was either going to be a huge hit or a fantastic bomb. You gave yourself one final look in the mirror, hitting your hair with a little more texturizer before texting Harry that you were ready. Before he could get to you, you went into the bathroom and shut the door, allowing yourself the opportunity for a proper reveal. 

“Let’s have a look,” Harry said as he entered the room. His face dropped when you were nowhere to be found. He saw that the bathroom door was closed and ran over tapping on it softly. “Princess? C’mon out. Let’s see what you’ve got.” 

You take a deep breath, turning the knob and stepping out into the dressing room. Running your hands through your hair and flopping it to your right side. You stand frozen in place, waiting for Harry’s reaction. 

He studied you carefully, starting with your messy hair and running down to the white t-shirt with rolled sleeves, and tight black skinny jeans down to your brown Chelsea boots. “Are you…”

“I’m you,” you said tentatively. “Well, I mean like old you. Young you? One Direction you.” The words spill out of your mouth so quickly you don’t even know what you’re saying. 

Harry remained silent as he stepped up to you to get a closer look. He walked around you, wanting to see the costume from all angles. He stopped when he got to your left arm, lifting it and examining it closely. “You even have the tattoos.” He marveled. 

“I uh… yeah. I cut up a pair of tights to draw them on.” You answer nervously. “Is it… are you…”

“This may be the greatest costume I’ve ever seen.” He says. You look over and see his wide, dimpled grin. “You look… I mean wow.” He ran his fingers through his hair. 

“Really?”

“Absolutely. There is one problem though.” Your brows round in question. “It’s a little alarming how much this is turning me on.” You burst out laughing, swatting at his chest, he grabs your wrist and pulls you close, cupping your cheek with his free hand. “I’m not joking.” He says just before pulling you into a heated kiss. 

Harry practically dragged you down the hall, eager to show everyone your costume. You felt a huge relief knowing Harry liked your costume, it was just icing on the cake that everyone else went wild for it as well. They were all taking pictures of you while Harry tried to instruct you on how to pose and what face to make to be the most authentic. 

Once the excitement of your reveal died down, everyone went their separate ways to get ready for the show. You sat on the couch in Harry’s dressing room, scrolling through your phone as he changed in the bathroom.

The sound of the door opening pulled your attention, you looked up and smiled as he moved towards you in a sea of ruffles. 

“Well?” He held his arms out and did a quick spin to show off the costume. 

You chuckled as you jumped up and ran over to him, playing with the ruffles around his neck. “Very bouncy. This is going to look amazing on stage. Especially with the way you move around.”   

“Ah, so you’ve noticed my moves?” He says slyly.

“Well you drag me to these shows to watch you perform, I kind of can’t help it.” You say sarcastically, making him laugh and pull you close, smothering you with kisses. 

“I’m going to make you a fan whether you like it or not,” he joked. 

You’re interrupted by a knock at the door, notifying Harry that he needs to start making his way to the stage. He gives you one last lingering kiss before taking your hand and leading you out of the room.

Walking a few steps behind him, you finally catch a glimpse of the back of his costume. “This part kind of looks like a diaper though,” you chuckle. 

He turns around, eyeing you curiously, you tap your hand against his rear and he arches a brow at you. “Does it? Or were you just looking for an excuse to touch my bum?” 

“I have moves too,” you shrug. 

Harry smirks, shaking his head at you. “I’ve noticed.” 

You're led to the same area you were in the night before, waiting for the show to begin. A lot of people seemed to notice you, you had people calling out to you telling you how much they loved your costume, a few even snapped some pictures. It was sweet, but you hate having attention on you, so you were a bit uncomfortable. 

Jeff noticed and stepped a little closer to you. “I know it’s weird, but you’ll get used to it.” 

You smiled and nodded politely, but you knew there was nothing to get used to. After tonight, you’d go home and the past week will all just be some crazy memory. Harry would just be a memory. 

The show was electric, the crowd was rowdier than you had seen at the other shows, and you could tell Harry was absolutely feeding off their energy. He would glance your way often, offering a wink or a smile which you would happily return. When his eyes traveled in your direction during What Makes You Beautiful, he could barely contain his laughter, looking at you, dressed like him during that period of his life. 

When the opening notes of Sign of the Times started, you were hit with the realization that your time with Harry was coming to an end. You had done a good job of keeping your feelings at bay, but the truth of the matter is that you had fallen in love over the last seven days, and when you woke up in the morning it was all going to be over. 

You hadn’t even noticed that you started crying until you saw Harry’s face drop when he looked at you. He immediately pulled the microphone from the stand and moved to your side of the stage. You brought your hand up and wiped away the tears, he held up a tentative thumbs up, asking if you were alright. You nodded in response, but he didn’t move. You took a deep breath, wiping away some more tears before returning the thumbs up. He smiled softly at you before moving on. He would continue to shoot you worried glances for the remainder of the show. 

When you got back to Harry’s dressing room the door was already shut, you assumed it was because Harry was in there. You knocked gently, Harry immediately called for you to come in. 

He was pulling his hoodie on as you entered. When his head popped out, your eyes immediately locked and he gave you a sad smile, “Was I really that bad?” He said, trying to keep the mood light.

You shook your head with a humorless chuckle. “No, I think that was the best of the three.” You say, referencing the three shows you had been to. 

“All the shows you’ve been to have been the best ones,” you eye him curiously. “You being there makes me better, I want to impress you.” 

“Mission accomplished.” You say quietly, you were barely able to hear yourself over the sound of your heart breaking. 

“Excellent, I’ll announce my retirement immediately.” He joked. When you didn’t laugh, his face fell and he stepped up to you, placing his hands on your hips. “Hey,” you keep your eyes trained on the floor, afraid you’ll fall apart if you look at him. He lifts your gaze, kissing away the stray tear that had broken loose. “Talk to me, princess. What’s wrong?” 

You shrug, taking a shuddered breath to try to compose yourself. “I’m sorry.” 

“Shh,” he coos softly. “You don’t ever have to apologize to me for expressing your feelings. I just want to know what’s wrong so I can help.” 

“I… I just…” Your breath hitching with each word. 

Harry guides you to the couch, sitting you down before sitting beside you and wrapping you in his arms. “Take your time, I’m right here.” He holds you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

“It’s so stupid, I’m not this girl, I don’t do this.” You mumble between sobs. “I just, it hit me that I’ve gotta go home tomorrow, and you’re going to fly off and keep touring, and I’m just really going to miss you.”

“Oh honey,” he squeezed you tighter. “I’m going to miss you too.” 

“Really?” 

Harry pulls back, taking your face in his hands. His heart sinks when he sees your red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks. “So. Much.” He punctuates each word with a kiss on your lips. “But just because we aren’t going to be in the same place doesn’t mean you’re getting rid of me. I’m still going to blow up your phone every day, and FaceTime you after every show. Though I’m heading to the west coast, so the calls will be a little later.” 

He gives you a wink, making you laugh. “There’s that beautiful laugh.” He rubs his thumbs over your cheeks to wipe your tears and pulls you close to kiss your forehead. “We still have a little time. We can spend it crying and already missing each other, or I can take you back to your hotel and we can watch a silly movie, or just talk, whatever your sweet little heart wants.”

You nod, surging forward and crashing your lips against his, pouring all your feelings into the kiss. He returns it with just as much fervor. You pull away breathlessly, sighing at the sight of Harry’s wide grin. You can tell he’s about to say something stupid. 

“Except for that you little minx,” he chuckles. “There’s not nearly enough time for us to do that properly.”

You laugh, ignoring the butterflies that stirred at the thought of taking things further with Harry. He was right, this wasn’t the time for that. Besides, leaving him was already going to be hard enough. 

You changed out of your costume and went with Harry back to your hotel. You put on the television, but it was mostly just there for background noise, you two stayed up until sunrise talking. Whenever Harry would see your mood start to shift, he would hit you with one of his corny jokes, doing whatever he could to make you smile. 

When it was finally time for your goodbyes, they were tearful and much more emotional than you had planned. You had hoped that you had gotten it all out of your system after the show, but as soon as he stood from the bed, your emotional dam burst once again. 

It was a long goodbye, Harry doing everything he could to make sure you were alright. There were plenty of hugs, whispered ‘I’ll miss you’s and promises of seeing each other soon. Then, with one final kiss, Harry was gone. You watched him as he walked down the hallway, before he turned the corner, he looked back once more blowing you a kiss which you pretended to catch and place on your cheek. He shook his head and pointed at his lips before blowing another kiss, this time when you caught it, you placed it on your lips. He gave you that signature smile once more, paired with a thumbs up, and just like that, he was gone. It was a perfectly Harry way to say goodbye, and it left you perfectly heartbroken. 

[thataromanticbisexual]

i have a btsv idea (bear with me while i yap)

to make a long story short if you don't wanna read this:

Gwen finds Miles, they make up, it goes south, plot devices, Miles.G lore yk, yk- they fight spot, split up, Gwen gets injured and Miles doesn't know until the end of the battle, he finds her in the rubble and its an emotional moment, a gut wrenching scene and they kiss

cliché i know SHUT UP

so imagine if when Gwen finds Miles again, they make up but it kinda leads to madness, like Miles shares his plan with Gwen (say hypothetically him and Miles.G have a plan and includes so many dangerou what if's) and Gwen is almost fully against it, saying 'it's too dangerous, you'll get yourself killed!' and he'd reply with some shit like 'better me than them (referring to his parents), at least i won't be sitting around while they die!' But someway and somehow Gwen manages to agree and they fight the spot, and it's a perfect battle sequence. But they get separated, Miles is set on saving his parents and Gwen gets badly injured- and Miles has no idea. It only occurs to him when the battle is over. I’d imagine the scene/conversation to be something like this:

──────────

Miles: We’re done, we did it... We did it! Gwen we-

Miles takes a second to look around the rubble and ash, Pav and Hobie in the background, both injured in some way helping out the others. And he realises. . Gwen’s not there.

Miles: -did it..? Gwen?

He looks around again, his eyes landed on Hobie who has his arm around Pav, keeping him upright. He had a concerned expression on his face, and Miles heart instantly drops.

──────────

Then I’d imagine the same type of scene where Gwen is searching for Miles in the rubble in Mumbattan, you know the scene. Except now it’s Miles looking for Gwen, desperately trying to find her. He was in full blown panic. At this point Margo or Peter would find her in the rubble, and she’s like sprawled out on the ground, I’d imagine she’s impaled or bashed really good:

──────────

Miles rushes over to Gwen on the ground, falling to his knees i front of her. His hands hesitantly hover over her, gently sitting her upright. She grunts, her eyes half lidded, looking up at him.

Miles: Oh shoot, shoot, shoot, SHOOT!

Peter: Miles, you gotta calm down-

Miles: No! No you do NOT get to tell me when to calm down!!

Miles full focus was on Gwen, one of his hands was planted gently against her face, wiping away some dirt and blood from her cheek.

Miles: Gwen you gotta stay with us, you can’t leave! I can’t loose you to- I can’t…

──────────

this is also unfinished, i may or may not come back to this but if you have ideas- make it angsty, make it fluff make it GUT WRENCHING AND EVERYTHING THE WHOLE FUCKING PACKAGE

someone give me feedback or your own opinion on this, i'd LOVE TO HEAR IT!! (credit me though please i'd love to read em)

thank you for listening to my absolute nonsense 🫶

[anisohtropy]

Kavetham constellation brainrot

we, collectively, don't talk about Kaveh and Alhaitham's constellations enough.

Looking at Alhaitham's first, Vultur Volans was the roman term for the constellation Aquila (the eagle). But why are we referencing its symbolism as a vulture instead of an eagle? That feels deliberate even though everyone assumes Alhaitham's meant to be an eagle. I contend that it's meant to be three things, an eagle, a vulture, and a falcon (just like the interpretations of the real constellation.) The eagle is obviously the well-trodden path of the divine symbol of Zeus/Jupiter. But what we kind of ignore is that the eagle was said to hold onto Zeus's lightning bolts, y'know his method of smiting people. Vultures and falcons have similarly death-related divinity. In an ancient desert environment, vultures are very useful as scavengers for getting rid of bodies to prevent the spread of disease and the general unpleasantness of rotting flesh. Falcons are very clearly associated with Egyptian gods, but particularly Horus, who was famously born/created from the dismembered body parts of his father. Interesting.

Now let's look at Kaveh. Paradisaeidae refers to birds of paradise, which are a real kind of bird, but the name is based on a kind of bird from Persian myth called the Huma bird. These things are wild. They're supposedly always flying and never lands on the ground. Some myths depict them like phoenixes, burning up every few hundred years to be reborn from the ashes. It's supposed to bring good fortune to people it flies over or who touch it. In some traditions it cannot be caught alive and whoever kills it will die within 40 days. It overall symbolizes unreachable highness and divinity. Obviously, it's a fake bird, but it's theorized that it's based on bearded vultures (meaning if we interpret it as a real bird that's gained divine properties, it would've probably done so via literally starving itself out of an unwillingness to bring or benefit from harming another creature).

They're the same kind of bird, fundamentally, but associated with opposing kinds of divinity. One brings destruction and the other brings fortune. One is self-sustaining, comfortable as the right hand of the true divine, but it is outcast due to its nature to survive using tragedy that befalls other creatures. The other cannot ever come down to be a normal bird, it sacrifices itself on an altar of being able to continue to bring joy to people it will never be close to. Change, decay, and cold rationality vs burning compassion and altruism and perfection. The burning bird can never be a meal for the vulture, as its death means only ash, and it is thus the only kind of misfortune of another creature the vulture can truly understand and care about. The Huma can never understand why the eagle is content as a messenger for the gods, why the vulture feels no guilt for the death it scavenges, why the falcon is content with a normal life when it was born with the potential for unimaginable greatness. The eagle, vulture, and falcon cannot understand the Huma's lack of pride or its willingness to damage itself for the sake of humans who would catch and kill it in their ignorance.

Also relevant is the fact that Deshret is clearly meant to be an analog of Horus or Ra. Both are associated with falcons and the sun, and their eyes are both significant in mythology (Deshret is symbolized by an eye in a sun in the lore). Nabu Malikata also has a massive pattern of sacrifice and she famously made a daughter-bird that was destined to die in the cataclysm.

There's a lot to unpack here but by god someone's gotta do it. The reincarnation, entangled souls, two sides of a coin vibes are SO STRONG with them. They're soulmates and the constellations only reinforce this when you pull back the hood on them. AAAAAA

[coff-in]

on the topic of calling boys mommy i sometimes think of an older milf-styled femboy who gives his "daughter" (forcibly feminized boytoy) an abundant supply of "milk" (cum) straight from the source (his fucking dick) and it occurs to me that sex maniac andrew would/could probably be that femboy

notes from coff-in: HEHEHEHE YEAH!!!

hella yapping down here (not a fic, just a ramble), NSFW, incest, forced feminization (watch out if you're uncomfortable with that)

i just, i wanna, hehehe!! >:3c ah, ah, ah, okay... i gotta calm down :')

milf andrew taking care of his daughter is just... paints such a wonderful image to me. i think i gotta let this though marinate in my brain more but i can see it. it's kinda blurry but i can see it. (no longer) repressed sex manic andrew would probably feel so free to be that milfy femboy, no longer concerned with the pressure or expectations of society. (in the original post at least) people thought that he was just constantly horny cause his dick was big but he wasn't!! he's just PACKING!!

he had to push himself so much to show that he wasn't (just) a cumbrained freak but a person who was smart and intelligent and had his own feelings and struggles and desires outside of sex! but since the quarantine and everything else, he can let go and stop fighting. yeah he's a sex fiend now but because it's he likes it, not because it's expected from him (and i doubt he's horny all the time, he's still a person afterall)

and once she becomes a milf, teehee :3c i can't help it, i like the thought a lot. she would be (AND IS) such a good mom... not the best but better than renee. i'm imagining her nursing forcedfem [reader] on her cock and telling her "watch the teeth, baby" and i just AAAUUGH i know this is a horny thing but my brain is jist conjuring up soft moments too

milf andrew in bed with her daughter resting her head on her chest as she reads a book, maybe aloud. doing her daughter's hair (ashley would help too, happy to help her mommy take care of her new sister). i can also see milf andrew doing clothes or lingerie shopping with her daughter/s and using the opportunity to have semi-public sex in the changing rooms

i feel so sad that i have like NO life experience to build off since i'm just an introverted homebody but trust me, TRUST ME there are hot incest moments between them all the time.

"if only we were blood related..." I'LL MAKE IT HAPPEN FOR YOU!!! PLEASE PLEASE!!! them being blood related makes it all the more better, i mean... no yeah, it makes this scenario way better in my head. andrew and [reader] (his brother) after burial canon or something and andrew is just becoming more fem and growing into herself and she takes [reader] down with her. ESPECIALLY after killing renee, she's like "i'm going to take care of you, okay?" and i just GRRRR I WANT HER IN ME PLEASE!!!

sorry

and if [reader] tries to fight back andrew would just, like... talk down to him, i guess? whispering in her confused daughter's ear "don't you trust mommy to help you? i'm just doing what's best for us, like i've always done for you and ashley. mommy knows best, after all." and [reader] is like... "fine" it would be fucking perfect if [reader] was originally against it but then after the power imbalance from andrew and the encouragement from ashely, [reader] just... gives in. she likes it when her mommy lets her suck her cock for milk and enjoys wearing matching lingerie sets with her sister ashley and does some housewife work because it helps her calm down or relax and... eheh ♡

sorry for the rant, i couldn't let this sit in my inbox :p

----

coff-in

[kenny-the-ken]

Alone at Last Pt 2

ALL AGED UP CHARACTERS!! You can find the first chapter here!! WARNINGS!!: guns, gore, violence, angst, character death, drugs, gangs, strong language, MINORS DO NOT READ!!!!

It had been four months from you and Kenny had ran off together, ditching South Park and forging a new life with each other.

You were now in California, the weather a stark difference to that of Colorado, especially in the mountains. The weather was hot, the people were hot, and everyone had one shared love.

Drugs. And by god was Kenny in business. He knew a few people feom California that used to ship his supplies to South Park, but now he was on their home soil, he became a personal dealer for their gang. And boy was he slinging drugs.

He had sold that much that you were both able to rent a luxury apartment, feed yourselves and Kenny still had enough money left at the end of the month to hand you his bank card, telling you to treat yourself.

Kenny loved having money, he wasn't used to it, and he spoiled you endlessly, all the things he'd have loved to have done when you both lived in South Park. He'd bring you bouquets, just because, order you food when he was out working, just in case you were hungry, random packages would be delivered, all addressed to you, and Kenny would've ordered you clothes you'd shown him, shoes, luxury handbags and expensive jewellery, he had you spoilt rotten.

There were a few problems though, drug money isn't safe money, in fact it's entirely illegal. And people who are higher up the food chain of a gang than you are can offer you bigger, better jobs, better reward, higher jail time.

Kenny and you ended up on the road quite a lot as the months went on, constantly travelling the world, seeing all these amazing place, and occasionally smuggling some illegal substances in the process, and had thankfully never been caught.

It was only when a major gang war had erupted did shit get real, and it got real fast. Molotov cocktails becoming an average thing to hear about in the news, people being shot, police officers being targeted by multiple gangs, the streets became a scarier place, and you were becoming more and more worried for Kenny's safety, not that he cared.

"Babe, I die all the time! You know this! You've seen me die before! If someone kills me, I don't think I'm gonna even worry about it at this point." Kenny rambled, a blunt hanging from his lips, taking a few long drags before passing it to you, exhaling the smoke out the window of his car. You accepted, taking a long drag yourself, and exhaling with a long sigh. You were on a road trip together, a chance to get away from everything for a while. You were going to a nice place in California, where rich people normally stayed, it would be nice to pretend, if even for a little while.

"Ken, I mean it. This feud is getting out of control! Someone got shot through the head last week!" You exclaimed, taking another drag of the blunt before passing it back to your boyfriend who ashes it out the window before placing it back between his lips.

"Pussies. I've been shot in the head more times than I can count." Kenny snickered, and you pushed his arm, a stern look on your face.

"Well what else am I supposed to do, baby? Slinging drugs doesn't take skill, you've just gotta make sure you don't get caught, it's quick, easy money, babe." Kenny spoke, and you let out a defeated sigh, both of you knew you'd be fucked without Kenny dealing, the only good thing was that if he was killed, at least he'd come back.

And that was when it happened, pulling up at the set of traffic lights, a car pulling up beside you, the window rolling down, and before either of you could react, shots were being fired at both of you, one hitting Kenny right on the temple, and back out the other side.

Your screams could curdle blood, loud shrieks escaping your mouth, staring at your partner, now lifeless, head drooping and eyes dull.

You were covered in what you could only assume was Kenny's brains, your once beautiful clothes covered in blood and pieces of flesh, and you took of your seatbelt, moving to your partner, tears streaming down your cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands.

"K-Ken, Kenny, please god no, Ken?" You spoke, but of course he didn't reply. Even though you knew he would be back, seeing your boyfriend getting his brains blown out was not something you had ever wanted to see, and you were certain you'd be scarred for the rest of your life.

Police were everywhere, taking Kenny's limp, blood stained body from the car, placing him on a stretcher and pulling a clean, white sheet over his body and face, putting him into the ambulance.

You were in a complete trance, as an medic pulled a few shards of broken glass out of your skin, you didn't even realise that you'd been hurt, so focused on what had just unfolded mere minutes ago.

The police brought you home once you'd been patched up, and you entered your empty apartment, the vibe of the place completely shifted. A place that was warm and homey was now cold and dull, you could see Kenny everywhere, his half smoked joint sat in the ashtray, the bowl he'd used for his breakfast still sitting in the sink, his shoes still laying messily beside the front door, and as you entered your bedroom, you barely blinked. The bed lay still unmade, and you stripped from your blood splattered clothes, dumping them outside the bathroom door, and getting into the en-suite shower in your room.

Even the bathroom reminded you of Kenny, his shampoo and conditioner, his body wash, shaving foam and razor, even his toothbrush brought tears to your eyes, as you turned on the scalding water, leaning your head back and sobbing as the water soaked you, a steady stream of red water trickling down the drain.

And you stood there for what felt like forever, until the water ran clear, getting out and wrapping a towel around your body and hair, and once your skin and hair were dry, you opened the wardrobe, pulling out one of Kenny's orange hoodies, and you quickly put it on, breathing in the scent of your dead boyfriend, tears still welling in your bloodshot eyes.

Your head pounded, body ached and wounds stinging as you crawled into bed, wrapping the duvet tightly around you, putting the hood of Kenny's hoodie up over your long h/c hair, and slowly sobbing yourself to sleep, your whole body shaking.

You awoke to the sound of your bedroom door closing, making you sit up in your bed, rubbing your eyes that were nearly glued shut, the tears having dried into your face as you slept.

"Hello? Is someone there?" You spoke, before hearing the soft plop of clothes hitting the carpeted floor. You brought your knees to your chest, too scared to make another sound, until you moved to turn on your bedside lamp, your body jolting quickly from the bed, lunging yourself at the figure you were scared of a few minutes ago.

"Kenny! Oh my god, Kenny. You have no idea how glad I am to see you!" You exclaimed, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck, pressing kisses all over his face, and he returned your hug, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to his bare chest, standing in nothing but his boxers, his clothes laying in a pile.

"I missed you, baby. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You shook your head no, and Kenny quirked his brow.

"Not even a few cuts and bruises?" He pressed further and you finally spoke, tears running down your already tear stained cheeks.

"A few pieces of glass got stuck in my arm but... I- I was more concerned with your blood and flesh that was all over me, and the fact you were dead." You whispered against his chest, and Kenny ran his fingers through your hair, shushing you as you cried.

"Don't cry baby. I'm here, you're safe baby. We need to get out of California for a while, I don't want anyone trying to target you, I'd never be able to live with myself." Kenny spoke, his voice breaking as the tears began to fall from his own eyes, and you both stayed still, in each others warm embrace for a few moments, before Kenny picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, as he placed you on your side of the bed, climbing in himself.

Kenny pulled you down to cuddle close to his chest, pressing gentle kisses along your face, a small smile on his face.

"Let's get some rest, baby. And then tomorrow we're getting a flight to New York, the gangs moving me, I'm their best asset at the moment, and the fact I'm immortal certainly helped. There's no feuds happening there, so we'll be safe baby. I promise." Kenny spoke and you nodded, leaning up to press a deep kiss on your lovers lips.

"I love you, Kenny. I'm so glad you're back." You whispered, and Kenny smiled, turning the bed side lamp off before he broke the silence.

"I love you too baby, I'm not going away again, I promise."

[iamjucie]

Astarion the Musical

Today, I spent several hours creating a playlist that tells Astarion's story (a version of it) through songs. I want to share the playlist with you, along with this post as a companion to describe the context.

In my mind it plays out like a musical would- context and dialogue happening between musical numbers. I hope you enjoy.

Song explanations:

The Code: Post game Astarion introducing his story to the audience. A synopsis of his story from the POV of the person who lived through it. 

"I, I went to Hell and back To find myself on track I broke the code, whoa-oh-oh Like ammonites I just gave it some time Now I found paradise I broke the code, whoa-oh-oh"

The story starts when he is attacked by the Gur and is approached by Cazador.

The Killing Moon: Cazador turns him into his spawn.

"Under blue moon I saw you So soon you'll take me Up in your arms, too late to beg you Or cancel it, though I know it must be The killing time Unwillingly mine Fate Up against your will Through the thick and thin He will wait until You give yourself to him"

Dead Arms & Dead Legs: After he has turned, coming to terms with his new undead self. 

"I have been out walking with these Dead Arms & Dead Legs And the mysteries of the universe are patterned in my head The terrain becomes unbearable - too steep to stick your heel I imagine myself here again in 50 million years I run to the left... I run to the right And all my fears become a life And what is left... and who are you in the end?"

Queer: He is seducing victims and luring them to Cazador using his body and charm.

"Hey boy, take a look at me Let me dirty up your mind I'll strip away your hard veneer And see what I can find The queerest of the queer The strangest of the strange The coldest of the cool The lamest of the lame The numbest of the dumb I hate to see you here You choke behind a smile A fake behind the fear The queerest of the queer"

The Dead Come Talking: Feeling guilt about the victims he led to death. He can't seem to forget them.

"Feel the worms eating holes through my mind Like regrets that'll kill me in time Walking backwards is always a guess Distant faces burn holes in my chest, mm-mm, mm-mm Shadows floating, they're out in the hall They still haunt you long after they're gone Buried in the basement, cold cement Dead come talking, can't put them to rest"

rises the moon: Montage of his life as a slave under Cazador, time passes and his hope for an escape becomes less and less. 

"Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end Sun digs its heels to taunt you But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same Rises the moon Days fade into a watercolour blur Memories swim and haunt you But look into the lake, shimmering like smoke Rises the moon"

Abbey: He is out in the city hunting, daydreaming of freedom. 

"There is a light, I feel it in me But only, it seems, when the dark surrounds me There is a dream and it sleeps in me Keeps me awake in the night Crying, "Set me free" And I wake every night Crying, "Set me free" "

Kidnapped by the Nautiloid.  Nautiloid crashes. 

Hand Me My Shovel, I’m Going In!: He wakes up at the crash site and is freaking out. He is in the sun, and not burnt to ash.

"This is not enough, this is not enough to prove it yet No, I need to hit the bottom This is not enough, this is not enough to prove it yet No, I need to hit the bottom Gotta get to the bottom of this Gotta get to the bottom of this Gotta get to the bottom of this"

Meet Tav.

Survival: He realizes he has an actual chance at freedom now that he met Tav.

"You won't pull ahead I'll keep up the pace And I'll reveal my strength To the whole human race Yes, I am prepared To stay alive I won't forgive, the vengeance is mine And I won't give in Because I choose to thrive Yeah, I'm gonna win!"

Biting Down: Drinks Tav’s blood for the first time. His first time drinking blood from a thinking creature and he realizes why it was kept from him. He feels alive. He feels powerful.

"Skip a hit, don't make a sound (It feels better biting down) Breathed so deep I thought I'd drown (It feels better biting down) Listen to the beats resound (It feels better biting down) It feels better biting down (It feels better biting down)"

Little White Lies: Gaining Tav’s trust, making her fall in love with him for protection.

"Would you leave me for dead, or would you come to my aid? If I don't tell you some pretty words Should it keep you coming my way I never meant to lie, but there are things we do and say to get by Little white lies, a small surprise, how big they grow in size It all starts simple enough Your present is dark because your childhood was rough So you shed your skin and you change your name in the hopes of Putting air in between you and the pain, so grab a mask Fill up a flask, slither like a snake into the mascaraed"

Terrible Thing: Seduces Tav enough for her to sleep with him.

"I know what you're doin' here Made your intentions clear Oh you, you terrible thing, you Terrible thing, you Terrible thing, you Beautiful thing Honey, you're so cold You left me on patrol Lose my self-control with you (when I'm with you) Do things I don't want to do, ooh"

Laplace’s Angel (Hurt People? Hurt People!): Feelings for Tav are growing, and the guilt of manipulating her is starting to get to him so he tries to justify his actions.

"It doesn't take a killer to murder It only takes a reason to kill We've all got evidence of innocence, it's "everything's coincidence" The difference twixt fate and free will is whether you're singing Ooh, could you take a look at me? Am I bad, am I bad, am I bad, am I really that bad? And now we're singing, ooh Whatever you think of me If you were in my shoes (yes, it's only natural!) You'd walk the same damn miles I do Oh, oh, right!"

Gilded Lily: After Tav does not force him to drink Araj’s blood. He is processing his trauma. He realizes that Tav cares for him more than anyone ever has.

"Haven't I given enough, given enough? Always the fool with the slowest heart But I know you'll take me with you We'll live in spaces between walls Every city's got a graveyard The service bought and paid for Now I'm sleeping in the backyard Passing out as night turns into day"

Against the Kitchen Floor: He confesses to Tav that he was originally manipulating her but now has genuine feelings for her. He has never known the feeling of somebody wanting him for more than his body and he doesn't know how to handle it well.

"I don't owe you my heart And I don't owe you my body But you should know that I'm sorry For being careless with you Lord knows I owe you more Than I'm pretty sure I ever could give anybody But I can't pin down what normal people want from foreign objects Bottom shelf erotic products like me So, I could hold your hand but keep you at arm's length Or hang me from a branch too high to climb and shake Less rare than scarce, less diamond than rough Unlikely to be more than just the coal you fail to crush, and I swear, I'm really trying It just don't come natural to me to think that you'd want me for me I swear, I'm really trying Oh, I'm sorry, I promise, I'm doing my best I just haven't learned how to be human as you are yet"

you should see me in a crown: They find out from Raphael what his scars on his back mean, and about the Ritual of Profane Ascension. He is fantasizing about what he would do if he managed to overtake it in private. He wants the power it would grant him.

"You should see me in a crown I'm gonna run this nothing town Watch me make 'em bow One by, one by one, one by, one by You should see me in a crown Your silence is my favorite sound Watch me make 'em bow One by, one by one, one by, one by one"

Perhaps Vampire is a Bit Strong But... : Astarion fights and confronts Cazador for the centuries of abuse he put him through. 

"'Cause all you people are vampires And all your stories are stale And though you pretend to stand by us I know you're certain we'll fail I've seen your eyes as they fix on me, full of confusion Your snarl is just so condescending Try to explain that we're onto a win If the fee we are in near recoups what we're spending"

He can choose to complete the ritual in Cazador’s place, or kill him. Tav convinces him to not go through with the ritual, he kills Cazador:

What Was I Made For?: He kills Cazador and doesn’t complete the ritual expecting a sense of relief and gratification but feels nothing. He thought he would feel free without a master to rule over him, but he feels lost.

"What was I made for? Hm 'Cause I, I I don't know how to feel But I wanna try I don't know how to feel But someday I might Someday I might"

Two Coffins: He is coming to terms with Tav’s mortality. He is mourning the loss of the opportunity to have her forever by not going through with the ritual.

"Two coffins for sleep One for you one for me We'll get there eventually In the dark of our graves our bodies will decay I wish you'd never change How lucky I ever was to see The way that you smile at me Your little moon face shining bright at me One day soon there'll be nothing left of you and me Two coffins for sleep Two coffins for sleep All the things that I have yet to lose Will someday be gone soon Back into annihilation All things will fade Maybe it's better off that way I wish you'd stay with me"

Rain: For a moment, he regrets not going through with the ritual and feels a slight disdain for Tav for stopping him. This song is when he comes to realize it was the correct choice and is thanking her. He knows that he would have just become just like Cazador, and thanks to her he is breaking the cycle of abuse.

"For so long, I have waited So long that I almost became Just a stoic statue, fit for nobody And I don't wanna get in your way But I finally think I can say That the vicious cycle was over The moment you smiled at me"

My Instincts Are The Enemy: He is confiding in Tav that he wants to be with her forever, but explaining what that means for her. He is tied to the night, and she is tied to him. Is she ok with that?

"I'm paralyzed, engaged in civil war What can I do? Either way, I lose You lose, too Days are nights, and nights are unbearable What can I do? Chained to this mood You're chained to me Keep asking different questions The same answer I receive I need you more than ever To tell me what you've seen"

Sunlight: The Netherbrain is defeated and the tadpoles are gone from their minds. Without the tadpole he is now unable to withstand the sun. He is coping with the lack of sun by replacing it with Tav. From now on she is his sunlight.

"I had been lost to you, sunlight And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight Oh, your love is sunlight But it is sunlight All the tales the same Told before and told again A soul that's born in cold and rain Knows sunlight, sunlight, sunlight And at last can grant a name To a buried and a burning flame As love and its decisive pain Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight"

Fin.

[scuttling]

Devil You Know

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries Pairings: Damon Salvatore/female reader (future) Word Count: 2,107 Tags: Just canon typical violence/blood so far, Episode related 2x14 Crying Wolf Summary: Damon's in love with Elena, would do anything to keep her safe—including forming an alliance with a mysterious newcomer who just might change everything. A/N: I consider this a teaser I guess, as plan to write the rest of season 2's storyline! I hope you like it :)

Keep reading below!

Damon goes to the historical society tea party because he needs to confront Elijah. 

It’s absolutely the last thing he wants to do, after blowing off Jenna’s friend Andie, who will almost certainly be in attendance; the last thing he wants to do, knowing that Elena and Stefan are on some romantic getaway to her family’s cabin by the lake. But he needs to protect her, which means finding out more about Elijah and the deal he’s made with her, which means he gets dressed and goes to the party, puts on a smile, charms the pants off everyone like he always does.

It’s not easy, but someone’s gotta do it.

Damon is just walking away from Alaric, heading into the study on Elijah’s heels, when a pretty young woman grabs him by the elbow of his jacket. She fits in at the tea party, in a white sweater, long, tan skirt, and heels, but he can’t remember ever seeing her around town.

“Whatever you’re about to do, don’t,” she says in a low voice. A human wouldn’t have heard it, her lips barely move, but he can and she must know that. 

“And who are you?” he asks, cocking a brow. He doesn’t take advice from people he does know, and definitely not from people he doesn’t; all the same, something about her intrigues him, though he can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Someone who’s not about to let you make the biggest mistake of your life — or afterlife, whatever you call it.” She lets go of the fabric of his jacket, then smooths it out where she’s wrinkled it. “Trying to kill an Original is suicide, so don’t.” 

She says it with an air of finality, almost authoritative, then turns away from him like she’s going to leave. 

He can’t let this girl leave, but he can’t let Elijah go either. He’s torn, feels two warring senses of urgency, looks briefly toward the study and then back to her retreating frame.

“Wait—who are you? How do you know–what you know?” She turns back, hair falling over her shoulder, and shakes her head like she’s frustrated that he’s even bothering to ask.

“I know, and that’s all that matters right now. Look, I have to go; I shouldn't have come as it is.” 

Damon grabs her arm to stop her from turning again, to stop her from leaving, but she frees herself with one firm, no nonsense tug and walks out the door without ever looking back. 

A mystery for another time. Elijah’s in the study, and Damon’s going to do what he came for in the first place.

-

He gets stabbed in the neck by Elijah because of course he does; he never claimed to be rational or sensible, to think things through or weigh the consequences like his brother. He acts on instinct, with more emotion than most people probably imagine him capable of, and then deals with the aftermath as it comes. 

The aftermath of this situation is a very sore throat, and a growing headache, as he mulls over what little they know, over and over and over in his mind. 

“Today was a bust,” he punctuates with a sip of bourbon. He says it to himself, to the room at large, but Ric answers anyway.

“Yeah, that Elijah’s one scary dude. I’d think twice before I trust that dagger and some ashes to do the job. You’re gonna need more info.” Damon frowns.

“But I’m out of sources.” Ric stands to pour another drink, grabs Damon’s glass and does the same. When he hands it back, Damon has a flash of memory from earlier in the day—the tea party, the mystery girl who knew more than she should—and he smiles a little to himself, pleased. “Actually, you know what. There might be one person who can help us out.”

“I’ll take anything we can get,” Ric says, drinking down the remainder of his bourbon in one sip. Damon stands and does the same, grabs his jacket from the back of his chair. 

As they head for the front door he starts brainstorming, deciding where they are most likely to find her. Strangers always seem to gravitate toward the Grill, so they should probably start there, ask around, find out if anyone who’d been at the event remembered her.

Those plans are cut short by werewolves. Goddamn werewolves.

“You know what the great thing about buckshot is? It scatters through the body. Maximum damage,” the one he knows to be Jules says, the one he hates with every fiber of his being. 

They’ve got him chained to a chair—an antique that’s going to be a bitch to restore after this—with some kind of inverted spike collar on him, and he is leaking blood from a hole in his neck for the second time today. It’s a new method of torture for him, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little terrified of the potential outcome.

This is how he knows he loves Elena, really, truly loves her, he thinks. For anyone else, he’d have given up a long, long time ago, out of both boredom and self-preservation. Damon would kill for almost anyone—he kills mainly for himself, anyway—but she’s the only one he’d die for now that Katherine has fucked them all for the last time. 

“Where is the moonstone?” Jules yells, pulling him out of his thoughts with a cock of her gun. One of the wolves pulls on the collar, which hurts like hell, but Damon just shrugs, smarmy as shit. Jules rolls her eyes. “Vampires.”

“At least vampires have the decency not to enter someone’s home without permission,” someone calls from the foyer. Damon can see that it’s his mystery guest, still dressed for the party, as she strolls casually down the hallway and into the parlor, toward the werewolves. Jules takes a good look at the girl, brows tight, as if she’s trying to place her, but the other wolves growl—actually growl—at her, nostrils flaring. It’s clear they know who she is… and that they actually fear her. “If I were you, I’d go. Now. Before another one of you gets hurt.”

Whether she’s referring to Mason or someone else he doesn’t know about, it doesn’t make a difference; the male wolves run out of the house in a blur, and Jules must trust her pack enough to know to follow, because she speeds past the girl and out the front door with the rest of them. 

Damon is impressed. Very impressed.

A minute later, when the house is quiet and the girl seems satisfied the wolves are gone, she steps toward Damon; her heels click across the wood floor, and in that delicate skirt, that pristine white sweater, she yanks at the chains that have him bound to the wooden chair. They nearly crumble in her hands, breaking apart and freeing him from captivity.

Now he’s kind of terrified again. Terrified, and a little turned on, and really fucking confused. 

“Should have let them kill you,” she mutters as she unlocks the collar, her hands slick with his blood but no less precise. She pulls each wooden stake carefully away from his neck, and he sighs his relief when the device is completely off, discarded on the ground. “Do you always have such a knack for getting yourself into dangerous situations, or have I stumbled upon a no good, very bad day?” 

“Hey. They broke into my house,” he reminds her, standing, and what’s left of the chains join the collar in a heap on the floor. The girl lets out a long sigh and puts up her bloody hands in a gesture of irritation.

“Because you’re fucking with, quite literally, the most powerful, ancient beings, things you know next to nothing about, even though I told you not to.”

“No offense, but I have no idea who you are, what you are… Those guys obviously did, and I’m getting now that you’re kind of a big deal, but it takes a lot more than a mysterious girl leaving a cryptic message at a town event to get me to change my mind.”

With another sigh, she sticks out one of her hands, and after a pause he gets what she’s after, reaches out to complete the handshake. 

“Hi, I’m the new resident vampire slayer. Happy to make your acquaintance.” He tries not to show that his mind is a little blown at this, that the prim and proper, frankly beautiful girl in front of him is a killer of anything.

“Vampire slayer? Is ‘hunter’ not cool enough this year?” She drops his hand, then wipes the blood from hers against the fabric of his black henley; it’s not enough to clean them fully, but now they’re merely stained red and no longer dripping with the evidence of his prior torture. 

“Hunters are usually guys with personal vendettas, who spend too much time shopping at the army surplus store,” she says with a completely unsubtle look at Ric, who remains dead on the Persian rug. Either she doesn’t care, or she’s spotted the Gilbert ring, knows what it means. “Slayers are different; we’re born with innate power, similar to what you develop when you transition—though I guess it’s all the same when you’re on the wrong end of a wooden stake.”

She takes a step back as he takes a step toward her—toward Ric, really. She watches as Damon lifts him up and drops him onto the sofa, so he can wake up with a little more dignity, at least. “So, vampire slayer. Are you from around here?” he asks as he turns back. He grabs their glasses from earlier, and a third, and fills them all with bourbon. He offers her the drink, which she accepts, sips. 

“I get around,” she says lightly, carefully avoiding his question. She walks around the room, exploring, as he cleans up, rolls up the soiled rug so he can dump it later on. “This is my first time in Mystic Falls, though I know all about its… rich history.” She takes another drink, this one deeper, like she’s tired after such a long day. He knows he is, so he can understand the feeling. “I’m drawn to where I’m needed, and I wasn’t needed here until the moonstone came into play. Now you've got doppelgängers, werewolves… I’m just fortunate you dealt with the vampires in the tomb on your own, or we’d be in a hell of a lot more trouble.”

“Hey, I’ve changed since then; I was an idiot in love,” he explains, then he fully realizes that’s bullshit; he’s still an idiot, and still in love—or, more appropriately, in love again. 

He throws her a playful smirk, but she’s not laughing when she comes closer and locks eyes with him. It’s the first time he’s looked at her and seen what must be her darker, more dangerous side.

“Love is not an acceptable excuse for your actions, and if you ever give me reason to, I’ll put you down without hesitation. It’s important that you know that.” Her eyes flick over his, as if ensuring that he’s gotten the message, that he understands her loud and clear. “Even when I help you—if I help you—my loyalties are to the slayers who fought before me, who fight alongside me. No one else. If any of you harm an innocent person with intent, I will kill you.”

Damon contemplates that for a moment, he really does; there’s no shortage of people who want him dead, so adding one more to the list isn’t really as impactful as she may believe. He can’t help thinking, though, that if she’s on their side—if she’s willing to fight with them instead of against them—they might actually have a chance against the werewolves, the Originals. They might actually have a shot at eliminating the threat instead of outrunning it, at protecting Elena once and for all. 

It means giving up human blood, which isn’t his favorite thing to do, but he’s done it before, can do it again. Will do it for Elena, if that’s what it takes.

“You have my word, slayer,” he says, peering down seriously into her eyes. For once, he means it. “You help us keep Elena safe, and we’ll all be on our best behavior, or you get to wipe out every creature of the night that lives in Mystic Falls.”

She nods, after a moment, then drains her glass of bourbon with an exaggerated, satisfied smack of her lips. 

“Alright then. First things first: who’s Elena?”

[inkstainedheartbeats]

Eddie knew, even before all this Upside Down shit, that Robin Buckley had Changed Steve Harrington. Knew it by scent, by sight, by the way that usually sweet Mrs Buckley of the used bookstore had snarled at Jeff when he made a dismissive remark about him. He knew and judged. It wasn’t law to not change the Mundane. The Preter could change those who gave consent, which usually involves far more government than either he or Uncle Wayne cared to have around them. But it was… it was Law, social kind ya know, to leave three families the fuck alone. The Carver’s, the Hagen’s and the fucking Harrington’s. And yet, there Steve is; all big brown eyes and an ass that won’t stop wagging like he’s got his tail in human form. Robin Buckley of the very small Buckley Pack had changed him. The heir to the third dangerous Hunter clan. All it would take is the elder Harrington’s coming back for a Hunt to happen.

He thinks he understands though. Holding on to Steve in this ash laden hell scape. They haven’t left the Wheeler’s not yet. Not with Steve collapsing and seizing. Whatever the weird ass bat things called saliva clearly not meshing well with Steve’s blood. Instincts scream at Eddie to bit down on that glorious neck. To suck just a touch into his mouth and force Steve to drink some of his own. They scream and scream and scream the longer that Eddie refuses. Tales of hybrids made by bite instead of love swirl around. It’s dangerous no matter the birth, the hybrid often dying an agonizing death.

“Eddie,” Harrington gasps out.

The girls are gathering supplies. They don’t know. But he can hear the race of Buckley’s heart from where she is at the Sinclair’s. She’ll be here soon.

“You… you gotta… gotta promise me. Keep… keep ‘em safe?”

He gives in to the instincts and bites down. Drinks blood that should be disgusting and awful but is instead sweet as candy. Bites down, hopes he hasn’t doomed Harrington. Makes the weak and confused boy drink Eddie’s blood too.

And he waits to see if Buckley is going to tear his throat out for killing her best friend and Pack Mate.

Now with a part two because I can’t leave shit alone.

[hacked-by-jake]

SPOILERS

Alright I have way too many thoughts and emotions so there ain't no way I'm gonna be able to organize everything into a nice sentence but I still gotta get it out 🤣🤣

First off, my notes app with some of my thoughts I wrote down while playing (in chronological order):

Where's Jake?

No premium?

Why and where is nymos

Why are we playing candy crush instead of hacking

Again: Where's Jake, he prob sees our chats and knows whats happening (hopefully)

The characters seem like an almost identical reflection to duskwood

What happened to Richy, please don't die on me 😩

Where's the others

We're now paying to see the secret chats

Why's this game taking so much of my money

Ash really be making me cry about Jake again 🥴

Eric be throwing himself at us when I still want to stay loyal to my hacker boy 💀

The ending: I KNEW MY BABY WAS ALIVE I LOVE HIM, I DEMAND HE TALKS TO US NEOW 👹

AND ALAN I MISSED HIM TOO MWAH MWAH

Rant 1:

The money milking makes me sick and don't even get me started on the ai 🫡 I spent 17 bucks today, halfway through the first episode and already out of all the materials I bought. It's disgusting how Everbyte has completely flipped and is practically scamming their players. Based on the prices, it's almost 3 dollars to view one picture 🙄 I would be more than happy to buy a premium package like duskwood for $20 or even 30 but $17 for not even half an episode is a crime 😭😭

Rant 2:

It's crazy how long this game took and yet it's way worse than duskwood. I was expecting a few additions, not subtractions.

Rant 3:

There is no way to see previous media and calls like in duskwood and no chat history like they promised. I never would've thought it was possible, but these mini games are way worse than duskwoods. And I realized how childish it all looks, I hate how we get no explanation for anything we're doing in the game.

Conclusion:

I'm pissed but seeing the anonymous mask gave me life. I need to go replay duskwood to cleanse myself of moonvale 😮‍💨

Pahahaha you're really killing me with your thoughts, I love your humor so much. 😭

I really should also start to write down my first thoughts while playing but I fear I will write down something to every little sentence I read. xD

But it's so true, where's Nymos? Give us Nymos back! My emotional bond with this unreal little dude is huge so I seriously need him. It's literally a program but it's a he you can't change my mind because I imagine Nymos as Jake best friend who's exactly like Jarvis from Marvel. (Sorry if you don't know it but then I really recommend you to watch the Iron Man movies. (Actually all marvel movies but we're talking about Jarvis here so you best see or more like hear him in Iron Man)

Btw my headcanon is that Nymos is not just any program but also an AI. So and now I will expand the headcanon and say Nymos is an AI that is against AI art and nobody can stop me, hehe.

The Candy Crush comparison makes me laugh every time and it hurts me because it’s true. xD

The thing with the characters being identical with the Duskwood characters... It's a hard topic in my eyes.

Some people say it way too early to judge this. And it's true. We didn't saw much now. But I do think we can already judge them a bit by what we saw. And when we compare it with how the Duskwood characters were in the first episode, I do think you can see that there's not much yet, sadly.

Like, we had Thomas, the idiot in love with problems to take criticism. We had Jessy the hanger-on that were clinging to Dan but then decided to change sides. We had the funny sunny boy Richy. The pretty cold acting Cleo. We had bitchy Lilly and of course we had the grumpy and unfriendly Dan. They all acted pretty strong from second one, in my eyes.

But I somehow absolutely don't think the Moonvale characters are like the Duskwood characters. Because well, I really think they need stronger personalities.

We have Eric who's a pretty normal guy and even though he tripped twice in one episode he's not at all like Thomas.

We have Ash who's like a very, veeery light version of Jessy and Lilly, in my eyes. Somehow kind but somehow absolutely not trustworthy.

We have Violet who's just.. there sometimes. Even the drunken police chief is more expressive.

Well and Charlie is.. Somehow like Richy and in my eyes has the strongest personality so far.

Oh and not to forget Brian who wasn't even there. Lol.

So yeah, I understand both points but I might see it a bit differently.

"Why's this game taking so much of my money" had me on my knees, laughing and crying at the same time because it's almost funny what Everbyte did and it's just as sad.

During my first playthrough I was also like: Someone give me a crucifix I need to get rid of Eric as soon as possible.

But while replaying I just had to see what happens if you decide to get closer with Eric and I swear it didn't disappoint me. It was hilarious and truly, I want this with Jake. I need such a chat with Jake! Everbyte, please!

I mean, I'm not flirting with Eric because I think he's hot or anything. Sadly, his character isn't interesting to me in this sense. (I need the mysterious guys xD) But I just had to try it and I mean, who knows if it will be important later. It's manipulative, I know, but don't judge me. And also, there's still this little hope for a jealous Jake. *ahem* Sorry, I promise I still feel bad for flirting with someone else. 😩

But gosh, the side story end. It was worth all the wait, really. I said before, I don’t forget about the negative things because of it but I'm just a silly, lonely, disappointed girl in love with a fictional hacker, let me have this adrenaline boost!

And yes, I was so happy when I saw Alan's body cam. I immediately knew what that means but at first I was just so happy to "see" Alan as well. I really like this guy, I can't stop myself.

About rant 1: I love the comparison with "So expensive is a picture" it is just as true and actually shows again how incredible it all is. I’ve said my opinion many times now, and I still want to protect Everbyte and give them a little empathy. But it's sadly just true.

I had a thought about that (what you said in rant 2) before and wanted to make a post about it later. So I hope it's okay if I get to it later.

Rant 3: This is actually one of the things that botherse the most. We can't rewatch calls, videos and pictures. The chats are disappearing and are gone forever. And they told us it will be different and that's so annoying. Not being able to see it in the app is just bothering for me. And yeah, that they broke the "promise" is as well. We all were so happy about the chat thing and now...

I actually like the look of Moonvale even if I would prefer something much darker. Especially with the mini games. The background is AI, of course, so. It would look much better with a real background.

And the damn mini games... I loved the ones in Duskwood so much. I really did. It was so much fun and I was one of the people who found them very easy.

But now the Moonvale mini games. By lord. Even though they're much easier for me in my replay, the first time I was actually this close to throwing my phone against the wall. I mean, I even went to sleep at some point and finished the game the next day! Everyone who follows me since duskwood knows I would rather shave my head than that. But they're just pain. And I seriously hope Everbyte will make them a bit easier or give us moves! Because this was often the biggest issue for me. Not enough moves. But they want you to buy gems so... 😒

Your conclusion sound good. I'm definitely planning to replay Duskwood as well. If I want or not. I have to. I need the comforting atmosphere and my emotional support hacker.

So I would say, see you in Duskwood, my detective friend. 🫡

No, jokes aside. Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts with me and us. As I said, I love your humor and the way to describe the things. And I really enjoyed answering it. 💚

I hope you could calm down a bit as well. I definitely needed some days before I could see it more clearly.

And as always a huge pleasure to see you here again. 💚😌

[a-french-coconut]

Part 3 (Will Solace)

"You look like a zombie dude," his sister Kayla remarks oh so astutely.

"I'm fine, just didn't got any good sleep last night. Nothing for you to worry about."

And that's true ! During the whole night, Will dreamt of Raz leaving black grass behind her, laughing and humming as she infects his friends. But since Raz is a secret he'll take to the burning pyre, Kayla will have to do with the short version.

He gulps down his fifth cup of coffee, pointedly ignoring his sister's worried eyes.

"Will... if there's something wrong you can tell me you know."

"Everything's fine Kayla, really. Gotta head to the infirmary, see you later."

Turns out everything is not fine.

It's disastrous.

His infirmary is overcrowded with some campers complaining about headaches, others shivering even though is summer and a few are bedridden.

Will tries his best but he is alone, he won't risk Kayla and Austin getting sick, and he can hardly do anything against diseases he gave to his fellow demigods when that part of him in no lunger under his control.

He'll rather stab himself than revealing he's the reason all Camp is sick though.

Therefore, there's only one solution left : finding Raz and reclaim that part of him. Which is going an arduous task since he has no idea where she is or how she even left in the first place.

He'll cross that bridge when he gets there.

He convinces Chiron to watch over his patients while he goes into the forest looking for specifics herbs that might help him.

They'll help him reduce the stress he's feeling but his dearest mentor does not need to know that.

As he mindlessly walks in the woods, he wonders why Raz is doing all of this. Why snap after ten years of compliance ?

"You're really dense you know that ?"

She is perched on a tree, looking down on him with a bored expression.

It angers Will, how can she be bored after all the disease she spread ?

"The first girl was an accident... her hair was just so pretty and I wanted to feel it..."

Raz looks remorseful about making sick Miranda but Will doesn't buy it.

"Why didn't you stop then ?"

She looks unsure of what to say and its worsens his already sour mood. Being so close and yet so far of his missing part is infuriating. He can feel her presence but not the control he normally has over her.

"Hard for you to reclaim something you don't want in the first place," she mumbles.

"What ? Why would I not want my-"

"You hate me remember ?"

Her tone is bitter, her eyes won't meet his. He's running out of patience.

"That's why you've been spreading illness to my friends ?"

"It was an accident !"

"Right ! Just like giving fucking pneumonia to my uncle I suppose then !"

Her eyes glow a bright green, her fingers clenches the branch she's sitting on. He doesn't see the black lines on the bark.

He does see the tears glazing her eyes but he's too furious to care.

"And then you wonder why I hate you ! Since I created you, you've been nothing but trouble !"

More cracks spread through the bark.

"You almost killed my uncle and you won't tell me why !"

They reach the ground.

"Now you attack my friends !"

Grass starts wilting around the tree's base.

"So yes Raz I hate you ! I hate what you represent, that disgusting part of me I wish never existed ! I wish you never existed."

The tree crumbles to ashes.

His tirade left him panting, eyes blown wide with rage and now horror as he sees the damage she caused.

They are surrounded by a giant circle of wilted grass and rotting cadavers of small rodents and trees.

In the centre sits Raz, still as a statue.

He can see her trembling, rocking head and forth.

Maybe he went too far.

"Raz I-"

"He was going to hit you."

What ? Who was she talking about ?

"That night, your uncle was going to hit you. You had just took conscience of your powers and I didn't know which illness was fatal or not. I just gave him the first one that came when you reached out to me."

He is frozen.

Her voice is small and shaky. She looks at him with wet eyes and whispers, "I just wanted to protect you.".

He falls on his knees.

"That night, you looked at me with such horror... like I was a monster."

"You're not a-"

"Don't lie Will, it just hurts more. I know what you think about me, I'm you remember ? "

All the times he thought about his plague powers, all the times he felt disgusted... she sensed it all.

"All I ever wanted was to protect you, to be your friend just like you imagined me to be. But you never call me to help, never accepted my help either."

She just wanted to protect him and he rejected her over and over.

"It hurts Will. It hurts so much to finally know that you'll never love me, that you'll never love yourself.", her voice is hoarse and Will realises she's been crying the whole time.

"My powers... your powers are not evil. You can use them to cure the diseases if you don't want to use them on monsters. All the patients too injured to save that died a slow painful death ? I could have prevented their suffering ! Given them the mercy of a quick death !"

She's screaming at him, he does not stop her.

It's all he deserves.

"BUT YOU HAVE ALWAYS AND WILL ALWAYS HATE ME !"

He's the one crying now, tears falling on the withered ground.

"You wish I never existed. Let me grant you at least this."

His head snaps to look at her. She's gotten up and closed her eyes, concentrating on something.

He feels the pull of power flowing under her skin.

Ten years of restraint.

Ten years of plagues and illnesses pushed down in Raz that now have tasted freedom.

Ten years of resentment and now their captors is setting them free. Their first victim is obvious.

Tendrils of black smoke swirls around Raz, the little girl searching every finer of sickness she has in her to unleash them on herself.

She causes illness in everyone she touches.

Her own creator despises her.

Not even her Lord Apollo likes this domain.

The world will better off without her.

Will will finally be happy, not burdened anymore. That's all she ever wanted.

She takes a moment to enjoy one last time the sun on her skin before releasing the plagues.

A warm body embraces her, stopping dead on her tracks.

She opens her eyes only to see golden curls.

Will Solace is hugging her.

He hates you.

"I love you Raz."

You are the bane of his existence.

"I can't live without you so please don't leave me."

You're a monster.

"You keep me balanced. I need you, I need that part of myself to live."

He...

He needs me ?

"I'm sorry I didn't realise this sooner."

"I can't hold them anymore Will. I'm sorry."

She gave too much liberty already. They won't go back now.

She expects the familiar bitterness when Will thinks about her.

She only senses love.

Will is looking at her with a smile as bright as the sun, despite all the mistakes she made, despite the plagues she's about to unleash on the world.

"You can't but we do. Together as one."

She feels him inviting her back to him. Never once has he been happy to have her in his mind again.

She smiles and lets go of her physical form.

It's invigorating to be whole again.

Especially know that he welcomes Raz as a part of himself.

It's really hypocritical of him to have taken so much time in understanding that Raz is not evil. After giving dozens of speeches to Nico about his powers on this exact topic, he feels he's going to hear about this for the rest of eternity.

But right now he has to stop this whirlwind of diseases ready to plague the world.

Will closes his eyes and try to force them under his command.

He can feel thousands of spirits, the bubonic plague, pneumonia, hay fever and so much more. Not of one them wants to yield.

Will is not one to force himself on others but in this case he'll make an exception.

Combining his healing and plague powers, he coerces the spirits under his control. It takes him a while to secure each of them, he's trembling, his skin is burning from the amount divine energy he's using. His mortal skin is not made to uphold such divinity on one instant and he can feel it burning and blistering.

Eventually he manages to get them all.

Now the difficult part.

Thousands of deadly illnesses and he's going to use it against them.

He wills with all his might the spirits to attack each other and to his great relief, they're too bloodthirsty to resist.

The process drains him completely. His two arms are covered in second degree burns and some of his curls are now white.

He can't pass out in the forest, he'll die.

He doesn't have any energy left to get up and walk.

That's how he dies then, devoured by some monster in the middle of ashes.

(We're not dying here Will.)

Oh hi Raz.

(Come on we need to think ! How can we alert our siblings ?)

I could try a supersonic whistle but I doubt they'll hear it.

(It's worth a try.)

Will takes a large inspiration.

A sharp, shrilling noise echoes in the woods.

His vision gets dark.

(Really ? An attack of hyperglycaemia ! When was the last time you ate something !?)

And whose fault was it !

(Yours !)

He passes out.

part 4 posted !

[crazylittlejester]

Daily brainrot delivery. :)

I had to go to town and that gave me a solid hour to think about the brainrot.

LU EAH AU: I'm considering the problem of Time/Mask, and I think I've largely come to the conclusion that I'm going to write him as Mask. Partly because I don't think I can do a longfic with Time (yet), and partly because the main story is going to be taking place either prior to or during when Warriors' story was supposed to happen. (Technically, all the stories are somewhat going off the rails because that's half the point of EAH, but that's beside the point.)

Switching topics, I've been thinking about the whole blood curse thing with Hyrule again. I've looked, but I can't find any canon material that says he has a blood curse, even though that's what's in the fics I've read. It's still a cool idea and I like it, but I'm baffled because what I've found sounds like it's basically just... a recipe? Like an evil cookbook or something. The most instructions I can find say to kill him and then mix Ganon's ashes with Link's blood, so I'm assuming that the killing part is important to the process somehow.

I am now going to be haunted by the image of bokoblins baking Ganon-bread in a kitchen, using Ganon's ashes as flour and Link's blood in place of water. This is why I can't have nice things.

I really need to get around to writing that piece of Hyrule angst I've been mulling over on and off because the sheer vagueness of the whole resurrecting Ganon ritual thing is just too much to resist. Like, dude, can you imagine knowing that monsters want you and your blood to resurrect the guy you just murdered, except you have no idea how it works so you have no idea what exactly you're trying to avoid other than the general dying and being used as an ingredient part? That would keep me up at night. Because it could be just the blood and ashes that does it, but what if he has to be 100% dead first? That's a huge difference. Hence, the angst stick.

i told myself i was gonna take a break from tumblr for at least 48 hours cos I’m not doing too good but I caved for a second just to check my notifs and see if I missed something super important, and I WAS RIGHT ON TIME TO SEE THE DAILY BRAINROT AND I GOT SO FUCKING EXCITED. The daily brainrot actually cures me, istg

OOOOOOH i love Mask so much, and I cannot wait to see what you do with him. LU EAH AU my BELOVED, grabbing it like a rubber chicken but also holding it so gently

Yeah I don’t know where the curse thing came from either, but it is now canon to me that the bokoblins gotta bake their Ganon bread, that’s fucking hilarious

YEAAAAAAAAH SMACK HIM WITH THE ANGST STICK, there is not nearly enough Hyrule angst in this world 😔💔

anyways THANK AGAIN FOR THE DAILY BRAINROT, I SERIOUSLY LOOK FORWARD TO IT EVERY SINGLE DAY :)

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

OKAY. OKAY. WINTERS FAMILY TORMENT NEXUS. as i've said before this is all REALLY vague rough outlines bc i wanted to bounce it all back n forth with u. but. what i have:

>winters family (mark & ashe & fridged mom/wife) live in a location hit by the simurgh

>mark is at work when she arrives. something horrific happens at home. maybe his wife is injured or hurt, but not killed. ashe (7/8/9) triggers. whatever his powers are, they. do Not help heal his mom. in fact the opposite.

>mark tears back home asap instead of leaving as soon as he hears her song, actively choosing to stay in her effect zone for his family. finds newly triggered baby ashe & the rest of that scene.

>theyve spent too long in the affected zone to be allowed to go free, especially since ashe triggered from it. mark nukes his whole past life & ashe's to escape without undergoing all the protocols. he spends ages doing shit work to support him & ashe bc theyre both legally dead, ends up working for overlord, manages to get enough of a fake past to get through cauldron background checks & get powers? it'll pay so much better than the grunt work he's doing now & he has to support ashe (powered)(legally dead)(would probably be executed if anyone Found Out)....

anyway to me the trickster is like. the endgame of this specific simurgh rube goldberg. somehow it doesn't end horrifically, for once! but it gets. bad. the fact that they're simurgh survivors is always looming over their heads. its why mark fucking freaks out when ashe joins the wards. literally have nothing more specific than this though u gotta help me put meat on these bones!!!!! STOP "being responsible" and "doing work" and stuff START thinking incessantly abt nhw ashe!!!!! i don't even know his powers bc i have no clue how he triggered!!!! augh. god. them..... mods torture that blonde man in the most narratively satisfying and fucked up way possible!!!!

QUIT YOUR JOB JOIN MY EMO WARDS !!!!!!!!!!!!! god dude god dude I'm gonna be thinking about this all fucking DAY . who needs to be responsible and have a job. not me!!!! FUCK !!!!!!!! dude im just. thinking abt mark being at work getting the notice to evacuate and starting to hear the song and. bc it's important to me that he's a little bit of a coward. it takes him longer than he will ever admit to decide to go back to his family. he definitely hesitates and hates himself for it because. what if he had gotten there 10 minutes earlier! who fucking knows! he never will!!

god man I'm just thinking about. that scene where they're in the hospital waiting to hear back about noelle and the person (ai?) at the desk is giving them the rundown of all the containment procedures and handing them paperwork and asking them if they can pay for the medical care. how fucked up would that be to hear after you're in the midst of losing everything. mark winters the universes most hated man. I looooooove the satisfaction in thinking about that snap decision where he goes from "relatively normal if a little emotionally repressed but otherwise does his best suburban dad" to "my wife is dead and my son is fucked up and there's this fucking sound in my head that won't go away I'm about to erase everything and break several laws in order to get us out of here" and how that eventually leads into. supervillain. it's just soooooooo. sickos haha yessss the downfall of this fucking miserable blonde guy. when do you think he consciously made that choice. he heard "you're never going to get out of here and live a normal life again" do you think he just . sat with that for a while. ashe unresponsive either due to shock or fear or the trauma of triggering/whatever his powers are and mark just has to sit there. by himself. like what the fuck am I gonna do now. auaghghghghhhh I need 2 make him so miserable forever. fuck that guy i hate his ass (<< me when I lie)

I THINK . I NEED TO SIT FOR A WHILE AND FINISH THESE NEXT COUPLE CHAPTERS AND PROCESS A LITTLE MORE BEFORE I MAKE A SOLID DECISION ON ASHES POWERS. but you knowwwww it's gonna be some fucked up horror shit. it has to be. it has to be something fucked up enough that mark forbids him from using his powers and keeps him . at home isolated for his own good. but not TOO fucked that he wouldn't be able to join the wards.

actually speaking of. HOW THE FUCK DOES HE JOIN THE WARDS. I know mark basically fucking erased their whole identity and everything but. there's noooo way the prt would let this kid join them. right?????? right????. how the hell would that even be a possibility with all the precautions in place for simurgh survivors. THEY EXPLODED THAT ONE CAPE GUYS HEAD BECAUSE HE STAYED IN PROXIMITY FOR A LITTLE BIT TOO LONG. maybe it's unofficial. maybe he never Officially joins them but he sneaks out while mark is gone and meets the boys somewhere and they become friends out of costume first. and then they learn about his powers and ashe is like "I can help!" and helps them like. as a rogue or something. but hes never registered as an official cape. is this anything. im thinking about him so much what the fuuuuuck have we done. what have we done !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[f0llowyourheart]

Please write more bonesaw mountain

I did a drabble for sebastian earlier this week but ill post it here too!! Thank you for supporting our AU :)

🗻🐎🔗⛓read under the cut⛓🔗🐎🗻

“Sometimes I miss you so much I just can’t stand it.”

Adam avoided eye contact, consumed by emotions that pulled him like a riptide towards the shore. Lawrence looked out of the corner of his green, pained eyes. Adam resembled a guilty dog, unable to hold steady under the weight of his feelings. Meanwhile, Lawrence observed with keen attention, absorbing Adam's words like pellets from a bb gun, each one piercing and settling into his vital organs.

“You hear me? I miss you so damn much, Lawrence.”

Lawrence habitually clicked back his zippo lighter, savoring the metallic snap against the flare of the flame that lit his cigarette. As he took in the smoke, he adjusted his tan hat casting a shadow over his face.

Chain smoking had become a habit at this point; one pack a day became two, two became three, then he lost count. Anything to dull the emotions. Any price to stop the feeling, even if it meant suffocating them in the blackened depths of his ash-coated lungs.

Lawrence exhaled a cloud of smoke and reclined in the white folding chair. “I hear you,” he responded, casting a glance at Adam's hollow expression. The doctor leaned in, urging the cowboy nearer. With a shove of the chair, Adam folded into him, almost swallowing him as he buried his face in Lawrence's dark blue dress shirt. “I hear you, Adam. I really, really do.”

“Amanda knows,” Adam muffled into Lawrence’s flannel shirt, the sound reverbing into the fabrics. “She’s gotta know. She ain’t tried to sleep with me in a few months now, always out with her girlfriends. I bet Kramer would pay me just to get outta there.”

Lawrence ran his hand through the other man’s dark hair, pressing his lips against his head in a tender display of affection that sent a chill down Adam’s spine. These small gestures felt profoundly intimate, grounding them in their secluded hillside sanctuary, the forest around them hushed and the campfire casting a comforting, warm glow.

“You know that isn’t possible right now, Adam.”

The stars twinkled with a specific brilliance on these nights, a stark contrast to the scars etched on Adam’s face and the occasional shaving nicks on Lawrence’s. Their very own constellations on Brokeback Mountain, the personal stars they took home everytime they parted. 

“I wish it was Lawrence. I wish it goddamn was.”

Lawrence held onto the other man tightly, cradling his head in his hands and drawing him closer. Fighting back a tear, he breathed into the other man’s hair, kissing him deeply, as though he were the most cherished treasure imaginable.

“I know. We just gotta stand it.”

The doctor felt the other man fading off to sleep as he held him, and whispered a confession under his breath, the other man was the only one in his world, and he had no idea.

“I love you. I love you. I’m so sorry.”

Adam wasn’t asleep; far from it. He lifted his head, meeting Lawrence's embarrassed and shocked gaze. He looked as though he had been struck, like a beloved dog taken out to the back and shot, but with love - killed in the most tender way. There was no retracting those words now. Adam looked like a kid on christmas, small tears forming in his eyelids..

“Lawrence. I love you.”

As they dashed forward, their lips met, and Lawrence’s guilty demeanor melted away. In that fleeting moment, all his fears dissolved. No one could hurt them here, no threatening glances, no hateful words—just the two of them, alone on Brokeback Mountain. Completely alone. Just the two of them.