#i will never recover from being like a teenage girl and my brain was like so fucking true bestie

[valewritessss]

I saw someone on TikTok say that Percabeth is one sided and all I could say is that it looks like someone didn’t read Mark of Athena. Then I did some research and I found out they’re a Pereyna shipper(I had no idea that existed).

Personally, I don't get it, Reyna literally just tried to make a move on Percy but he rejected her and neither of them thought about it again so I don’t really see it. Either way, that's not the issue because I don't really care what people ship as long as it's not weird or creepy (I'm looking at any Artemis x Percy, Luke x Percy, Annabeth x Luke, or Percy x Nico shippers).

But back to the Percabeth is one sided thing, I’m a little bit confused. Because, did they miss the Annabeth pining silently but obviously for Percy for YEARS, Annabeth being jealous of Rachel partly because she liked Percy, Annabeth telling Athena that Percy is everything to her, Annabeth driving herself crazy those months Percy was gone and searching for him without giving up. So “Percabeth is one sided” where???

Then upon further research I found that of course, turns out they are an Annabeth hater(they don’t admit it but it’s obvious for apparent reasons). Some of their reasons: Annabeth's nickname for Percy, “seaweed brain” is degrading and implies he is stupid, Annabeth is mean to Rachel, and Annabeth is scared of Percy which made him feel like he deserves to die.

1. Annabeths nickname for Percy started out as teasing but became endearing for the both of them, just like the nickname “wise girl”. Percy even gets mad at Thalia for using this nickname because he considers it something solely Annabeth can use. In no way has Percy ever said or even mentioned that he feels put down because of the nickname. Also, Percy never hesitates to call anyone, even gods, out on their shit, so if it was really bothering him, he would most likely say something.

2. Honestly, the whole deal with Rachel was never that deep. Like, it did have a deeper meaning for Annabeth than many could comprehend but the whole catty part was never that big. A few snide remarks, sure, but it's not like she was bullying Rachel. If anyone thinks otherwise, that's okay, but in my opinion it was meant to be funny and it came off as such, and even Rachel and Annabeth themselves moved on and became fiends. Moving forward, considering the context of Annabeth's jealousy, it makes total sense for her to feel resentment towards Rachel. I'm not saying it's justified, but if a boy she'd been crushing on for years and is destined to die soon spends his last summer with another girl who is closer to normal than Annabeth could ever be, in what world would she not be mad? In fact, some of it was just teenage pettiness. And that's fine, she wasn't hurting anyone. Being a teenager with a crush is hard, and it's harder when you're a demigod with a huge prophecy hanging over you and your best friends heads. So is her anger justified? Maybe. But is she valid? Absolutely.

3. This is the most ridiculous reason yet. First of all, has Percy ever told Annabeth he feels like he deserves to die? I don't think so. Especially not before he almost let himself die with Jason there. I don't know if that person was just expecting Annabeth to guess, or what. Secondly, they were in Tartarus, and Percy did something scary. So of course, Annabeth is going to be scared. If Percy feels like Annabeth being scared makes him want to die, that's not really Annabeth's fault. And to expect Annabeth to make him feel better about something she is still recovering from herself doesn't make much sense, does it. At this point it just felt like they were going to hate Annabeth regardless, and these weren't actual issues they had with her they just saw a reason to hate her and went for it.

Hey, ship whatever you want and hate whoever you want, but don't come with false interpretations(that I know was easy to comprehend) as evidence for why you are right, please.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Healthcare Quotes!

(dark humor)

Four: My patient really needs a liver transplant. I want tonight to be the night he gets it. Legend: What’s your blood type? Four, rolling his eyes: Not my liver. I want to see him recover and all! Sky: That would be the fastest way to procure it, though. The ultimate sacrifice for your patient. Truly being a patient advocate. Legend: Let us know when you off yourself and we’ll give it like six minutes so you can be properly brain dead and all. Four, huffing: How about Warriors? He’s strong, healthy— Sky: Nah, he drinks too much, you don’t want his liver. Wars: >:O I DO NOT Legend: *wheezing*

…

Mo: *coughing* Hyrule: You good? Mo: I’m dying Aurora: None of that crap until the shift is over, we’ve had enough call outs tonight! Mo, sadly: Aw man

…

Warriors: *exiting a patient’s room laughing* Legend: What’s so funny? Wars: This dude has the absolute best insults ever. Legend: Who was he insulting? Wars: Me, because he didn’t get his water fast enough, but man was it amazing. Legend, interested now: So what did he call you?? Warriors, smirking evilly: You’ll never know. Legend: Wha—YOU CANT LEAD ME ON AND THEN LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THAT

…

Twilight, staring into the void: Ilia: What’s wrong? Twi: The girl in 15 said I couldn’t play with her ponies because I wasn’t cool enough. Ilia, biting back laughter: That’s rough, buddy

…

Wild: This one teenager I was transporting to MRI said I was so bad at directions I couldn't find my way out of a paper bag. Twilight: She ain’t wrong. Wind: Did you say anything back? Wild: I said “Actually I can, animal control tried to use a bag to catch me and I found my way out of it just fine.” Twi, sighing: I can believe it

…

Time, stopping a surgical resident from doing something: That is what we call an artery. When I said don’t kill the patient, I meant don’t kill the patient. Since you were about to cut the artery, I think we need a lesson really quickly on what does and does not kill a patient. Time: For example. Bleeding to death leads to dying. I know this might be hard for you to understand but— Malon: *narrows eyes, raises eyebrow* Time:…But I understand you’re still learning.

…

Fable: Yeah, so she was supposed to get a mini-MVR, they perfed her LV, then they fixed that and her papillary muscles tore, then they tried to fix that and she got a VSD, so they just put her on ECMO and balloon pump and shipped her to us. Wild: What does—what?? Time: Her heart woke up and chose violence. Or her surgeon did, I’m not sure which.

[vechter]

for the “top 5” ask game! -> top 5 characters/relationships, top 5 books or quotes, top 5 songs, and top 5 smells :)

omg this is gonna be soooo difficult ily for asking me soooo many <3

characters:

1) dick grayson my absolute fav boy ever. his brand of mental illness and neurotic control-freakism captured my heart n soul unfortunately and i have been unable to be normal about him since (in that, i, too, am like bruce wayne). he learned to walk on sawdust, his first word was rube! he was never going to be a normal, well-adjusted, white picket fence guy. he's a performer, and even those closest to him fall prey to his act. he had the worst imaginable thing happen to him as a kid and one man saved him from that grief eating him alive (could u be normal about ur pseudo-father/brother/mentor figure if he did that for u?) and he will spend the rest of his life making sure the same doesn't happen to anyone else. 2) roy harper my fav dad ever. his daughter saved him from the worst of his impulses. when ollie was dead, he liked to pretend ollie was off on another road trip and then just got mad that ollie left him behind. as usual. his aim is true and so is his heart. he doesn't miss. everything is a weapon in his hand. he loves lian more than anything in the world. he will do right by her. he can't help but love the mother of his child bc where would he be without her? 3) dick grayson and bruce wayne you've seen my web weaves i am not normal about their relationship. they're both changed irretrievably for knowing each other. it isn't always for the better. sometimes, nightwing is the only thing i think i did right. you make a vow to a man like a god when you're a grieving, orphaned kid and you devote yourself to it to a degree it's debilitating. you will never recover from that kind of devotion. dick used to make him laugh. after the fight. you look at your robin, forever your boy, your son and you miss the times when you were the dynamic duo. it's hard to be around each other for that. your father has never let go of anything without leaving claw marks. i could go on and on sadly 4) dick grayson and donna troy you've loved each other your whole lives. you think you were born knowing each other. no one can hurt you or love you the way they seem to. losing donna broke something fundamental in dick. he walked her down the aisle on her wedding day. he loves her in each and every universe because she's donna. platonic, co-dependent, insane. truly the dynamic of all time. 5) cassandra cain. you are your father's daughter. but you are also your mother's daughter. you would choose being perfect for a year over a life-time of being mediocre. you killed a man when you were a child and you will never forgive yourself for it. you will save anyone, even if they don't deserve to be saved. especially, then. some people can't tell where it hurts. they can't stop howling. character of all time truly i stuck to dc for this but honourable mentions to those in other fandoms: shiv roy, succession- she is her father's daughter and it's the worst and best thing to happen to her. her entire world of a father.

clarke griffin, the 100- sometimes there are no bad guys, just good people making bad choices. you save your people, over and over. it's a thankless job. but you do it anyway. you are a doctor and a killer. you know which one you don't want to be.

elena gilbert, the vampire diaries. what price are you willing to pay for those you love? is there a price that is too high? would you even know it? you are a girl monster doppelgänger. your story was always going to end this way.

percy jackson. i imprinted on him as a teenager and he will always have a soft spot in my heart. angry boy with a heart of gold. the sea takes.

sally draper and betty draper, mad men. when sally said "i am so many people" i fear she changed my brain chemistry irrevocably. i will never be normal about her or her dynamic with either of her parents. i'm going to do quotes bc i truly don't think i could pick 5 books. i wouldn't even know where to start but here are some quotes in no particular order:

"Sometimes I see the real God, in a wide-hemmed butcher’s apron, wiping his hands and trembling. It’s your cut, he says. Fry it, eat it raw. I don’t care. My line is too long for these kinds of games. Look behind you. All of those people know what they want.”

— mike young, none of it grace

Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.

— richard siken

the worst thing about love is i remember it. i walk around all day thinking: i’m going to die in the universe you loved me in. i get so jealous of euthanized dogs.

— june gehringer, i love you, it looks like rain

I am always moving toward you. On my bad days, I say to myself: “then you.” Sure, this now. But then you.

— trista mateer, “laugh lines” in the dogs i have kissed 

So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

— robert frost, nothing gold can stay

phew. that was way more difficult than i anticipated. there are so many that I think about way too often. top 5 songs is unfortunately impossible for me to do. i avg 150,000 min listening to music on spotify for my wrapped. i spend way too much time listening to music, and even if you asked me to pick based on specific categories like top 5 rap songs, top 5 songs that give you immense nostalgia, top 5 songs with phenomenal lyrics, etc, i would be stunned into immediate mental paralysis i just can't sorry ily

top 5 smells, in no particular order:

the smell of petrol (i knooow but something about how sharp and overpowering it is. it just hits right somewhere), clean sheets (u know when u can smell how crisp and fresh they are? even without a strong-smelling detergent), emblem by mont blanc, daisy by marc jacobs (i am forever lamenting they changed the scent slightly) and the smell of the first rain (i live in a mostly desert-y, arid city now so the way the ground feels and smells after the relief of rain, it's amazing, show-stopping even)

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

Addendum to the chapter 1 post that I thought of later:

“Not this afternoon—haven’t got time. I must mosey up to the North End to see a man who has got a lovely throat. Nobody can find out what is the matter. He has puzzled all the doctors. He has puzzled me, but I’ll find out what is wrong with him if he’ll only live long enough.” This is Eric's best friend, a well known doctor, cosplaying as, like, 1900s Dr. House. No concern for the patient's well being, just a Mystery that must be solved. No wonder Eric has such a low opinion of doctors!

(Sidenote: those of you who Anne, what is Gilbert like as a doctor? Because TBC didn't have a great opinion of them, and this book is not shaping up to be too complimentary either. Did LMM just have a fairly poor opinion of doctors in general that colors her work?)

On to chapter two, and we meet an actually sympathetic character! Larry West seems like a lovely young man, and I hope he recovers fully and that he and Agnes Campion are blissfully happy together. Unlike either Eric or David, Larry actually seems to care about the people under his charge, i.e. his students. I already want him to be our protagonist instead.

"The former looked more like a benevolent old clergyman or philanthropist than the keen, shrewd, somewhat hard, although just and honest, man of business that he really was." Kilmeny of the Orchard, sponsored by the Better Business Bureau! There is absolutely an interesting thread to tease out across LMM's life and work that connects Eric Marshall to Barney Snaith, but I want to read more of this book before I make further commentary on that. But it does appear that Maud's opinions on rags-to-riches businessmen, uh, Evolved over the years.

Actually never mind, I'm gonna girl who's only ever read The Blue Castle this book a tiny bit more. Compare:

"And then those girls were as pretty as pinks, now weren’t they? Agnes was the finest-looking of the lot in my opinion. I hope it’s true that you’re courting her, Eric?”

and

“Prettiest girl in Montreal,” said Dr. Redfern. “Oh, she was a looker, all right. Eh? Gold hair—shiny as silk—great, big, soft, black eyes—skin like milk and roses. Don’t wonder Bernie fell for her. And brains as well. She wasn’t a bit of fluff. B. A. from McGill. A thoroughbred, too. One of the best families."

Women aren't really people, they are trophies and objects to be collected and revered. Barney grows out of this mentality through his travels. Eric... well it remains to be seen about Eric, doesn't it?

"Perhaps I am. When a man has had a mother like mine his standard of womanly sweetness is apt to be pitched pretty high." So we're getting the standards by which Eric judges a future wife and the role she will be expected to play. He wants a society hostess, a woman who can step seamlessly into his mother's shoes. He wants her to be sweet and serene and, presumably, beautiful and delicate like his mother in her portrait. David and Mr. Marshall both basically want him to marry Ethel Taverse -- beautiful, well brought up, good lineage, of the Right Sort. Eric... honestly Eric has such fantasy standards for a woman that in a different book the resolution would be that he realizes that he's gay. He's doing that doesn't-realize-they're-queer-yet thing of, "it's not that I don't like [expected other gender], it's just that I haven't found anyone yet with [vague laundry list of impossible qualities]." I know that doesn't always translate into queerness, but it's an experience that definitely rings true to my baby ace teenage years before I had the words or knowledge to accurately describe my experiences.

"In all likelihood the worst thing that will happen to you over there will be that some misguided woman will put you to sleep in a spare room bed. And if that does happen may the Lord have mercy on your soul!” Go to PEI, but don't consort with the locals! The Wrong Kind of Woman might tempt you! This book is a great primer on how classism and eugenics go hand in hand, isn't it?

So our plot has been set up for us. Eric, a young man in possession of a good fortune, is off to Prince Edward Island, where he will soon find himself in want of a woman to be his wife. She will either be a commoner, whom his family and friends think isn't good enough for him but whom he loves and will stand up for, or she will be a secret aristocrat, whom he will pluck out of her shabby surroundings and return to her birthright in high society. I want this book to go with option a, because it's more interesting, but from what I know of it it veers closer to option b instead.

(What he needs is an Anne Shirley to whack him upside the head with a slate and tell him to stop being such a jerk, but I'm not holding out hope.)

[stitching-in-time]

Voyager rewatch s4 ep5: Revulsion

This one is quite the hodge-podge of totally disjointed stories. There's a horror story about a murdery hologram, an awkward comedy about Harry getting a crush on Seven, and little subplots about the Doctor wanting to go on more away missions, Tom having to fill in in sickbay, and Tom and B'Elanna deciding to get serious with their relationship. It's a lot, and tonally, none of them really fit together well.

From the first shot of the teaser, which is of a dead body being dragged across a ship by a hologram who's clearly just murdered the guy, it doesn't set a good tone. While it takes our crew the rest of the episode to figure out that the hologram who supposedly lost his crew to disease and requests their help is actually a psycho who murdered them all, the audience knows it from the beginning, which makes the whole episode feel slow, and makes the characters look kinda stupid for not being able to see it right away too. Especially since the actor who plays the hologram is so creepy and unpleasant to watch, and all the scenes on his ship are shot like a horror movie, with him looming ominously behind people in the shadows, while ominous music plays, it just feels way too obvious and heavy handed. (And I never like to see my girl B'Elanna getting put through crap- everyone needs to leave her alone, she puts up with so much!!) Knowing the whole episode that this creepy hologram is going to try to kill her at some point just feels so schlocky exploitation film-ish, it's not fun or interesting to watch in any capacity. I also don't buy that a hologram that's meant to do menial ship maintenance would have a sophistocated enough program that it could pass through some matter, and not others, at the same time, at will. That was just too convenient to be realistic given what we've already established about holographic technology. But luckily B'Elanna is such a badass that even with her injuries, she still managed to destruct his program like a boss. Queen shit, as always. I love her so much!!

And then there's poor Harry, who gets basically a teenage crush storyline over Seven of Nine. It's supposed to be funny, but mostly it's just a heap of secondhand embarrassment. Idk why they have Harry acting like a dumb kid whenever they try to give him a romantic subplot now- he's in his mid-twenties, he's not a kid, and he used to have a hot girlfriend back home, who he used to go to concerts with in his slutty mesh top, which nobody who was shy and awkward would ever wear. He couldn't be that clueless and inept about dating. (Also, I guess he finally gave up on Libby for good at this point! Sorry girl, you're no match for the hottest lady of all- the USS Voyager!) The worst part is that Harry and Seven are actually kind of cute together, and it would have been nice to see them form a normal friendship, but that possibilty was stifled by giving him the stupid crush plot. Tom at least tries to talk him out of going for a romance with someone who's only been human for basically a few weeks, but Harry doesn't listen, and it just gets more awkward. Ugh. why.

Why on earth they expect us to believe that Tom is the most qualified person to fill in as a medic, I have no idea- there's gotta be some science officer who has more medical training than a pilot, but at least they were giving one of the regular characters more screentime, I guess. And I do love to see Tom taking care of people, it's a nice counter to the weird mean version of him from Day of Honor that I still need brain bleach to recover from. (Why would they do that to my sunshine boy??)

One of my favorite scenes in the episode is Tuvok's absolutely lovely and sweet banquet celebrating his promotion. I love when the crew have sit down meals together, it's always the most heartwarming, adorable stuff. Tom and Harry telling a story about a time they pranked him, Janeway presenting him with his pip, and Tuvok's thank you speech are just so perfectly lovely. Everyone is so happy and having so much fun, including Tuvok, and I love to see it. Whenever I see gifs or screenshots of this scene, it's always of Tuvok saying 'in three years I've grown to respect many of you, others, I've learned to tolerate' like he's being bitchy or throwing shade, but in context, he's actually being affectionate- there's a lightness in his voice and a twinkle in his eye, and Tom and Harry smile at him when he says it. This is Tuvok being happy, and expressing his love for his crewmates with his dry Vulcan humor. It's so good!!! Tim Russ does so much with so little- he always manages to convey the full range of Tuvok's thoughts and feelings in the extremely narrow confines of acceptable Vulcan behavior. With the subtlest of intonations and expressions, he shows us his whole personality and his whole heart, it's really exceptional acting. Tuvok has been and will always be my favorite Vulcan character in Star Trek.

Tom and B'Elanna get a small scene at the end of the banquet, where we finally get to see them talk about what happened in Day of Honor. Once again, Tom is the one to break the silence after three days and say they have to talk about it- they give each other a chance to wriggle out of the whole 'I love you' thing, but B'Elanna admits that she really did mean what she said. Tom responds by kissing her, which is adorable, but still missing the crucial words- all they had to do was tack an 'I love you too' on the end of that 'shut up and kiss me'- would that have been so hard??? Tom is always the one who wants to actually talk about stuff, he would not be reluctant to say it! Certainly not more than she was! What gives??? Idk, but they agree to meet up in her quarters at the end of the episode, so I guess we just get to infer that they talked about it later. (But judging from their earlier kiss, they probably just made out the whole time and never came up for air lol)

Tl;dr: The main plots in this one were both pretty poorly executed, but the little character moments sprinkled in were wonderful and made it worth watching.

[arainmorn-art]

Ooooooh gosh. Watching Enola Holmes now. I'm only on the first hour, ugh. Right after THIS SCENE. It was so cringy and laughable I can't. This scene is a pure mindless power fantasy. I'm trying to tell myself that it's just a movie for teenage girls, I shouldn't be nitpicky, the tone of the movie is not serious... but I'm reading the Youtube comments under this video praising the scene and I want to talk about it. I'm a girl, I've been doing martial arts (mixed aikido) for three years and let me tell you this scene was bad. You know... I hoped this movie would be about outwitting your opponents, using your brains as your biggest strengths as a girl in a Victorian era. But whom I was kidding, we have a Netflix girl power movie, so let's get rid of any common sense.

First of all, that man was clearly not trying to kill Enola with those gently tossing and barely punching the air around her he did. One of the first things my sensei and his sensei told me is that no matter are you a man or a woman you have not many chances against a person who really, really wants to kill you. Not just frighten and rob you, kill you. Even very well-trained people now that. And they want to tell us, that a 16 year old girl having just lightly sparring with her suffragette terrorist mom in the garden could stand against an adult hitman? For how long Hollywood and Netflix will tell teenage girls and young women this type of lie? Oh boy. Let's take a look at the Enola's fight. This stunt on 1:30 might look impressive, but it's a garbage. It reminds me of throw from aikido for competions, which is not for real street fights, it's for show, so it makes a good base for stunts.

Yes, the uke (attacker) clearly knows when and how to jump to minimize the pain when the force is applied to his wrist and elbow joints, but the thing is the seme (defending) applies the force to unbalance the opponent and then throw him (my English is horrendous now, I know). Seme also never gets on his opponent's line of fall, he needs to stay in the control of situation (at least in aikido). But I keep rewatching that moment in the movie and I can't fucking see the moment where Enola would succesfully unbalance her opponent to do this throw. She kicked him with an elbow in his lower ribs, which is not a bad move, but not enough to desorient him with pain or to get him to bend over, it was not a solar plexis. And then SHE FUCKINGS JUMPS. She does a fucking flip with her 40 kilo ass to not only fakely throw him off balance, but to make him jump up and then land neatly past her, not on her, because she literally dives under his falling body with that move. Props to the actor to fall so carefully and not hurting Millie. Ugh.

Second, a man can crush woman's airpipe and skull with his bare hands, and usually easily outrun her. Men generally are stronger and faster. It's just a man design, they are built differently. That's why female and male sport competions are separated. Buuuuuut "Enola Holmes"'s executeves want to tell us, that a half-drowned girl in a dress and a corset was SO fast, that an adult fit man without a dress and a corset had to JUMP to hook her leg with a cane and stop her. Alright, she dodges his next strikes, though honestly I hardly find it believable, but then he takes her and throws against the wall. In such situation an air quickly leaves your lungs and you 're not likely to recover quickly, you also might have a concussion. Besides the drowning that's another point where our heroine could be done. By the way, the drowning was a bit more convincing, but then they pulled that eye-rolling gotcha moment with tricking and winking. It still was possible not because the heroine is smart, but because the attacker was stupid and indecisive. And he keeps being like that. As soon as she was on a ground everything could be finished very fast like in these brutal first seconds from Lucy's video:

He could kick her in the stomach, in the face, crack her skull with his boot, break her ribs, broken ribs would pop her lungs, there'd be internal bleeding, noone is here to save her - it would be over. And since he also has a knife, oh geeeeeee. Why. Why the killer must be so confused about finding out she wears a corset, when HE IS IN THE RIGHT REACH TO PULL OUT THE KNIFE FROM THE CORSET AND SLIT HER FUCKING THROAT. The adrenaline must be pumping, even a semi-realistic burglar would not wait for Enola to unbotten her dress to show him a corset, for fuck sake. Ah, yeah, if he would be still stupid enough to not slit her throat right away he would say "Thanks for letting me know!" and stabbed her holding the blade vertically, not across.

This scene is not only child-friendly, it is very girl-friendly. Very clean (with a tiny bit of dirt to add some grittiness), very careful so main heroine wouldn't get any hits in the face as the face must stay pretty, very naive as if her fight mistakes, which were praised for making the fight more realistic and the character not Mary Sue, would not be deadly to her and also if the killer was not hardly dumbed and slowed down, oooh, with a little bit of pain on the actress face so you could worry for her and all this jazz. And gooooooooooooooooooosh how cocky Enola is here it's infuriating. At the end of this scene she was not outsmarting her attacker, it was a very dumb luck that he threw her in the barn with explosives. Honestly, to make this scene both more realistic and smart they should have create a thriller Alien-like scene where the protagonist must use her wit and knowledge (which are so often mentioned in this movie) to actually outsmart the hitman. What about her knowledge in chemistry? Or for Netflix writers it is only "Ha-ha, nerds do boom-boom with chemicals!"? Fine, do something more with explosives. Do something with her knowledge in physics. Do something other than using brute force! Because you clearly can't do it too!

Ugh, I'm tired and frustrated now. And I can't imagine why would they call her Sherlock's sister aside from marketing reasons. Marketing worked, I'm watching it. I hoped to look at Henry Cavill's Sherlock having Henry's charm and beauty and Holmes's intelligance, but this is not a Sherlock but a random quite dense dude from any other story and there's a microscopic amount of Henry's performance. And nothing of it is smart. A character's intellectual ability is directly related to the intelligence of the writer. And I can firmly say this whole mess is a popcorn pew-pew show in Victorian costumes, and not anyhow a Sherlock Holmes story.

Let's move on.

[ssreeder]

ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod it’s HAPPENING this is NOT a DRILL

anyways I’m in bed hacking up a lung and delirious on cough medicine, so this leekie reaction episode is brought to you by Rikodien, our sponser for this evening :D

saw the chapter title and instantly began mentally rubbing my hands together like a greedy little gremlin I’m so EXCITED

oh shit not the suicidal sokka era… man pls just *kachow* back together like an overstretched elastic band bc codependency is wayyyy better than this shit come on dude

okay but like… sokka taking on zuko characteristics due to zuko being out of commission was Not what I expected, and yet I cannot say it’s entirely surprising

“I’m fine” GIRL YOU ARE LITERALLY IN THE MIDST OF A MENTAL BREAKDOWN

“Sokka wouldn’t do anything to hurt anyone” AANG. AANG. PLS I KNOW YOU WANT TO SEE THE GOOD IN OTHERS AND THAT YOURE A PACIFIST BUT. A A N G.

toph my bestie, the loml, an actual angel, yes INDEED why DOES sokka want to murder quon surely there’s a REASON

uh-oh.

not the zuko situation… rasu baby pls hold strong I Cannot have you being captured

aang. it’s times like these where I have to take deep breaths and remember you are 12 years old bc otherwise I will SCREAM

actually side note, but I would be really interested to hear 1. your feelings on iroh 2. your feelings on iroh IN THIS FIC, bc I personally am not a huge iroh fan for a multitude of reasons (sorry not sorry) so I wanna know how I’m supposed to read him in this universe (also just love hearing your thoughts and opinions but also no I don’t we’re divorced shut up)

thank GOD general how has some brain cells fr

suki is the real mvp of this chapter, she has the patience of the saint I honestly could never. FINALLY THE TRUTH YAYYYYY IM OH SO HAPPY TO HEAR SOKKA FINALLY TELL THE TRUTH

goddammit. why are they teenagers the emotions are just always so HIGH ugh I hate hormones. suki was doing so well ;-; (I don’t blame her or anything but DUDE COME ON)

aang and sokka friendship >>>>>

FUCKINF FINALY SOLKA IS GOONG TO ZUKEO OMGBG

ykw I’m just gonna leave those typos. I think they accurately convey my excitement.

sreedie. istg if pt 1 of the zukka reunion is sokka just WATCHING THROUGH A WINDOW IM GOING TO MURDER YOU

oh thank fuck he’s through the window. love you sreedie <3

not iroh just observing sokka go feral as a picture of absolute passivity lmao

okay I know this is a serious moment but I’m really enjoying the liab trivia night that sokka is hosting rn

I am actually,, extraordinarily pleased with how this chapter went. so uh.. no notes (ignore the several hundred words of notes above)

my heart was POUNDING and now I need to rest and recover. love ya sreeds <3

LEEKIE YOURE SICK?!?! (It’s been like almost two weeks so I hope you’re better) the audacity.

I think it’s hilarious how much of a reaction that title got heheeeee I’m funny.

Sokka spent 90% of RIA trying to get Zuko to stop doing what Sokka is spending 100% of ITF doing lol. It’s called progression damn it

Oh gosh my thoughts on Iroh? I don’t know where to start. I kind of want you to read Iroh how you want in this fic & see if you can figure out my feelings about the man from that? Hmmm? Call it… playing hard to get ;) ((just because we’re divorced doesn’t mean we can’t still play games))

Some people were mad at Suki for leaving after Sokka told her everything but seriously she is like what? 16??? Lied to & manipulated by someone she cared about & then told pfft there’s someone else. Nahhh girls allowed to have hurt feelings & she is allowed to want to bitch slap Sokka for that. (Just because Sokka is hurting doesn’t mean he gets to hurt others sorry buddddddyyy)

Hahaha Sokka did a really good job being there for Zuko but a terrible job keeping their closeness a secret haha: <3

LEEEEEKKKKKIIIEEEEE ok I don’t love you because you’re a lightbulb smashing ex wife but I do hope you’re feeling better & if now I’ll toss some soup through your window <3 (ok I still love you byyeeee)

[torterrachampion]

Top 5 or 10 characters? 👀

We'll do 10 I think because that seems fun to me. Man, I didn't think I'd find these questions so hard when I reblogged that post lmao. But I'll do my best!

I'm going with my "favourite" characters rather than most well-written/best characters because honestly that would be a different list. So here are my current blorbos. Characters that just seeing them makes me happy.

Chloé d'Apchier. Surprise, surprise woman with "Chloé d'Apchier enthusiast" in her bio really likes Chloé. I probably spend more time thinking about her than any other character at the moment and it's been like that for... at least a couple years now. So due to terminal brainrot she's ranked number 1 at this current point in time. Perhaps not the most mind blowing character in general or even the most influential to me personally but I connected to her hard and I think she's generally a lot of fun. Her position within the Gévaudan arc was a really interesting one and that arc is my favourite in vnc so far.

The 11th Doctor. Doctor Who is a weird show for me since in a way I've been a fan before I even watched it. My Dad has been into it since he was a kid and I'd been exposed to it at least mildly through my entire childhood. But my first Doctor was Matt Smith and I couldn't have asked for better. His take on the Doctor was joyful and funny and dark and he really brought his all to the character. 11's got some of my favourite episodes and there's really nothing quite like watching him bounce around time and space with Amy and Rory.

Grovyle. Man... Grovyle pmd is an insane character. I was not prepared for his storyline at the ripe age of 7 years old. Everything about him is so cool in concept and even cooler in execution. His connection with you, the player, really makes the game and along with your partner he's really the heart of pmd2.

Elliot Nightray. I adore Elliot so much. Even if a lot of the best parts of ph come after his death I can't help loving him the most. He has my favourite death scene in anything ever, I think he's incredible. His nobility contrasted with his teenage boy brashness is just very endearing. And his words to Oz about self-sacrifice have always stuck with me. Learnt a lot about myself through Elliot as a teenager and he's a lot of fun besides.

Gilbert Nightray. Two Nightrays in a row! Ah, Gil, truly a guy of all time. He greatly influenced my taste in fictional men (pathetic) and I don't think I've ever recovered. Gil has the edgelord aesthetic that I was drawn to at the time while also being the most pitiable man I've ever seen. Truly rewrote my brain. He grows a lot throughout ph and regularly gets some of the coolest moments.

The 12th Doctor. Same character as earlier just portrayed by a different actor and god, Peter Capaldi understands the Doctor. His storyline is pretty consistent throughout his seasons and his character arc is super rewarding even in episodes that leave something to be desired elsewhere. He also boasts the single best episode in all of Doctor Who, Heaven Sent.

Yuu Koito. I have never in my life related to a romance protagonist the way I related to Yuu. Bloom into You as a series made me feel very seen with her character and even ignoring that she's incredibly funny and one of if not the most enjoyable character in the manga/show.

Alice Baskerville. One of my main gripes with ph is just that I wish there was more Alice! I love Alice, she's always a delight. Her relationship to Oz is one of my favourites in all of ph and her strength of character is really nice. I also like to see a girl get to be a dumb shounen protag sometimes. I need more female characters who are idiots (affectionate).

Portia. The spider from Children of Time. Really there are a number of Portias that are followed throughout the book but I love all of them. I don't know how to convey what's great about her but trust me when I say I've never cared so much about a spider.

Thomas Senlin/Tom Mudd. The Books of Babel series is so fun and Senlin really makes it. He's cowardly and naive at the beginning but he grows a lot while still remaining bookish and weak. He meets all the challenges of the Tower admirably and manages to hang on to his humanity even when it would be easier to discard it like many of the other Tower inhabitants. A recent addition to my blorbo collection and I'm not all caught up on his books but nonetheless he has been rotating in my brain.

[this-doesnt-endd]

Not passing the vibe check at the moment

[horolojium]

Having (briefly) been a middle school teacher, I'm obsessed with the idea that at certain moments in the long winters of kaer morhen, the witchers just...devolve into twelve year old boys in the bodies of near indestructible men with way too much time on their hands.

Can you imagine the chaos. Imagine the complicated, wildly dangerous (for normal people) and enormously pointless games they would come up with. It would be called game and have 84 thousand rules and the only real way to win is to out-stupid your friends so hard they never recover.

Every year Vesemir prays it will have gone away. Every year it just mutates into something Worse.

He thought that Ciri would use the brain cell and stay away from it, but look. Vesemir. Ciri is many things, one of which is a teenage girl who probably didn't get many opportunities to do formatively dumb things and probably won't later on in life.

So of course she's a fucking terror at it, only toning it down when Geralt sits her down and is like, "Ciri. On one hand I am so proud of you for being a beast at Game but on the other hand you cannot die by playing Game, Destiny will kick my ass if Yennefer doesn't murder me first."

[kurosukii]

𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

summary: your best friend has been dying to know the guy you’ve been fooling around with since your twenty-first birthday; you wish you could tell her, but the mystery man is no other than her father.

genre: smut, age gap, best friend’s dad au

warnings: 18+. DILF KUROO. dubcon, manipulation, slight somnophilia, spanking, pussyjob, alcohol consumption, dumbification, hair pulling, virginity loss (...social construct), oral (f receiving), overstimulation, size kink, corruption kink, daddy kink, daddy issues, dirty talk, degradation, praise, unprotected sex, nipple play, creampie, cumplay, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, choking, spitting, mating press, clit spanks, begging, fingering, slight exhibitionism, finger sucking, tie kink(?? he makes you wear his tie so...)

word count: 5.2k

author’s note: for @sugawara-sweetheart’s decadence collab! thank you so much for letting me join! shoutout to @stopisa for that ✨lovely✨ dilf convo. (dilf kuroo AAAAAAAAAAAAAA) (let me know if i missed any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

º thank you @meiansmistress and @ssrated1volleyballplayer for editing and beta reading <33

[12:24 PM]

“come on! you have to tell me who he is!”

you grip the handle of your spoon harder than normal, hoping your best friend doesn’t see your reaction.

you open your mouth to say something, but she cuts you off with a comment that makes shame and embarrassment burn through your body.

“you guys were really loud last night! well, you were. i didn’t hear so much as a peep from your man—well aside from the occasional murmurs, which i’m pretty sure was dirty talk…” she trails off, looking lost in thought.

you squirm and wince at the wet pool between your legs. the wet pool being cum that he told you to keep warm just before he left.

she sees your discomfort and laughs at your predicament, clearly thinking it was the aftermath of a hard night of fucking—it was, but she didn’t need to know about the sticky cum that was still inside your pussy.

“he clearly fucked your brains out! at least one of us is getting dick!” she exclaims, her lips forming into a pout as she takes her finished bowl of ramen to the sink and rinses it with water.

yeah, you are getting dick—not just anyone’s dick, however, because it’s her father’s.

your stomach churns at the thought, not from disgust, but from guilt and shame. you are way past getting disgusted with what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with.

not when her father never fails to make you cum at least three times in one night, not when he calls you his good girl and cockslut, and certainly not when you called him over last night because you were so pent up and you needed your daddy’s cock.

last night…

“you’re such a cockslut,” kuroo growled, his balls slapping against your ass as he delivered a hard thrust that had you creaming and moaning all over his cock. you bunched the sheets in your hands, wincing with slight discomfort when he folded your body in half while he pounded relentlessly inside you.

“you should see how dumb you look with your eyes all crossed and teary while your tits are bouncing everywhere.”

you squealed when he roughly flipped you on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips as he entered you once more. he lifted one hand and slapped your ass in sync with his thrusts.

“so drunk on my cock now, huh? can’t live without it, hm?” kuroo taunted you, one hand squeezing your hip while the other spanked your ass until it was burning with pain. you moaned words incoherently, tongue lolling out as drool seeped from the corners of your mouth.

“daddy! more, please!” you moaned loudly, toes curling from the pleasure.

“you’re brave for calling me over, knowing that only a thin wall is separating you from my daughter’s room,” he hissed, pounding your pussy from behind.

“but i guess that doesn’t matter to you anymore as long as i fill this dirty pussy with my. hot. cum—fuck!” he ended each word with a hard thrust, cursing when your tight cunt clamped down on him.

“faster, daddy! your cock’s filling up my pussy so well—oh my god!” you screamed, partly aware that you shouldn’t scream his name, for fear that your debauchery with your best friend’s father would be revealed too soon.

kuroo indulged you, teeth bared as he pushed your back into a deeper arch, making his cock reach places he hadn’t before. you winced when his large cock teased the entrance of your cervix. it was always a trip taking him—no matter how many times he fucked you, his cock always stretched your pussy wide open.

“w-wait, it h-hurts daddy!” you whined, moving forward to escape the brutal thrusts of his hips so you could adjust your position. he growled in disapproval, tightening his grip on your hips as he roughly pulled you back on his dick.

“take my cock. i know you can do it, whore.” he hissed, moving your body back and forth on his cock like you were a fuckdoll. you moaned from both pain and pleasure as kuroo guided your hips, fingers leaving bruises on your skin.

you cried out when kuroo tugged your hair from its roots, pulling your body upright until your back met his sweaty chest. “yeah that’s a good fucking pussy. come on slut, squeeze daddy’s cock,” he whispered in your ear, teeth biting your earlobe.

“d-daddy i can’t—i’m going to cum!” you squealed, voice cracking as your body started shaking from your fast approaching orgasm.

“i’m going to cum too, baby—and don’t you fucking dare waste my cum,” he growled, wrapping his arms around your body.

you fell forward on your shaking arms, sheets bunched tightly in your fingers as moans and whimpers freely fell from your lips.

“i want it to stay inside your dirty cunt until tomorrow,” he ordered you, reaching for your arms and holding your wrists in one hand, the other slapping your already swollen ass.

you cried out when your face was smothered by the sheets, drool staining the pillow as the headboard continuously thumped against the wall. your body shook with his thrusts, breasts swaying with the movement.

“i want you to look my daughter in the eye and have a normal conversation with her—just like you always do—while you’re thinking about how slutty you are with her father’s cum inside your pussy.”

that was last night. a couple hours ago, if you were to be specific, since kuroo fucked you until you passed out on your bed. you only woke up when your best friend practically broke the door down—bed empty of him, thank god—saying that she made lunch. she looked pretty disheveled herself and she blamed it on your headboard hitting the wall all throughout the night.

you buried your face into the pillow to cover your guilty expression, groaning at the movement because your body was aching all over. she laughed and left you to your own devices, still recovering from him.

he has a crazy appetite for a man his age, to be honest. he may be an older man but he fucks like a teenage boy who recently discovered sex and became hypnotized by the pleasure of it. you lost count of how many times your best friend—his daughter—almost caught you and him fucking around in the apartment, their house, and even his car.

it wasn’t always like this though. there was a time when you only saw him as a fatherly figure and not someone who regularly uses you as a cocksleeve.

maybe it was the way he looked so good with a five-o-clock shadow, or how even with salt and pepper hair, he still acted youthfully. perhaps it was his signature cocky grin that lured your younger and more impressionable self towards him.

in truth, it was your daddy issues that led you to him.

you met your best friend the summer after high school. you bonded quickly over your common interests and quickly learned that it was just her and her dad. she confided in you and told you how lonely he was and she hoped that he would meet a nice and loving woman to take care of him. you comforted her and reassured her that he would meet that woman. if you only knew.

you couldn’t help but admit to yourself how envious you were of her and her father’s relationship, seeing as the one with your own was non-existent. you couldn’t wait to meet him, hoping that he would treat you as his second daughter since your best friend was basically your sister.

she failed to tell you—because why would she?—that her father is an attractive and charming specimen of a man his age. his eyes would crinkle at the sides when he laughed and his feline eyes would always look at you with warmth and tenderness.

you sigh as you put your chin on your fist, the sounds of dishwashing and humming filling your ears as you play the events that eventually led to your risky love affair with her dad.

you really feel ashamed, but it wasn’t your fault that her dad is so good to you. from the moment you met him, he made you feel so loved and appreciated. it was obviously innocent and familial at first, until it turned to something darker, more carnal.

his glances gradually became lingering and he started giving you sly winks that left you burning with desire. you tried so hard to fight it too, but you were too weak against his sweet talk and honey voice.

it was a year or two later that he finally made a move on you.

you figured that with a job that caused him to be in constant public eye, he would avoid fooling around with girls that were decades younger than him, but even with the heavy implications of a scandal, it still didn’t stop him from devouring you.

it all started one night when he invited you guys over, claiming that he missed the both of you. your best friend told you to go first because she was going to be out for her tutoring session. you internally shivered at the thought of being alone with him, not knowing what was going to happen once you were confined in a small space.

the sexual tension was so thick when you arrived and next thing you knew, you had your back on the dining table, legs spread in the air, with his mouth sucking and slurping on your pussy. you came with a scream of his name, cumming so hard for the first time in your life that your body ended up convulsing.

he had laughed at how blissed out you looked. “you taste even better than what i imagined, baby. thanks for the meal,” he purred, winking at you and leaving you to process what happened, hand wiping off the juices from his face as he went back to cooking dinner.

his daughter finally showed up and your face burned the entire time, unable to look her in the eye because not only did her father make you cum minutes prior, but he also was a tease and had his fingers inside your panties while talking to her, fingers slowly tracing circles on your clit.

the topic of conversation was your living situation. he was never happy about how the two of you wanted to live alone together because he insisted that it was better if you guys lived with him. at first you thought it was him being overprotective, but you came to understand it was because he wanted easy access to you.

he ended up fucking your throat that night out of sheer frustration, punishing you for being a bad girl and wanting to be away from your daddy.

you partly hoped it was a one time thing, but you were proven wrong when you had a movie night and your best friend dozed off on the long couch housing the three of you.

kuroo was under your blanket and between your legs in an instant. your shorts hung off of one ankle while he pushed your panties to the side.

“daddy! we shouldn’t be doing this—fuck!” you moaned as his lips sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue lapping up your slick.

“guess you just have to be quiet then, kitten,” he teased you. you arched your back and bit your lip to muffle your scream when he inserted a finger in your dripping cunt while his lips played with your clit.

you had no idea how your best friend didn’t wake up to the sounds of your muffled moans and whimpers, but that thought went away when you started riding her father’s face and cumming all over his mouth.

you became needier after that, eventually losing the hesitancy of being pleasured by him. instead, you anticipated the times when he would make you cum.

the deal was sealed on the night of your twenty-first birthday.

night of your birthday…

“hey girl, the postman came and said this was for you!” your friend slurred, clearly having had too much to drink for just a small and intimate celebration for your twenty-first.

you’d been buzzing the whole day, both from the alcohol and anticipation of what was going to happen later. you woke up to numerous happy birthday texts until you came across the one you’ve been so excited to see. your cunt gushed when you saw your daddy’s text, letting out a little moan at what he said.

happy twenty-first, kitten. you better be wearing my gift when i come over because i’m going to fuck your little pussy tonight.

you sucked in a breath as your face flushed. you held the smooth black nondescript box that was elegantly wrapped with a crimson satin ribbon. you had a pretty solid guess of what was inside and your best friend had as well, because she wiggled her eyebrows and teased you. you sighed, like father, like daughter.

how you were still able to look her in the eye after everything you’ve done and what you’re going to do with her dad is beyond you. his mouth, tongue, fingers—soon to be his cock—truly hypnotized and consumed your conscience and only left neediness in its wake.

you ducked your head to hide the embarrassment on your face while the rest of your friends that came over jeered and whistled as you walked towards your room to leave the box on your bed for safekeeping.

you left it sitting in the center of the bed and went back to the living room to enjoy, skin tingling the whole time in anticipation for your daddy...

you closed the door after saying goodbye to the last group of people and turned to your best friend. “thank you for the lovely little get together,” you thanked her shyly.

“you’re welcome, darling, but i’m sure the main event is just about to happen. tone it down a little, yeah?” she smirked at you, eyes glinting with mischief as she giggled on the way to her room.

you sighed, the guilt that was momentarily forgotten reared its head once more when you were finally alone in your room. it went away again when you studied the gift kuroo gave, nimble fingers leaving light touches on the box settled on your lap as you untied the ribbon.

you rummaged through the white crepe paper until you saw pieces of red lace that were as red as the ribbon that tied the box. he always loved the color, so it wasn’t a surprise that the lingerie he gifted you was of the same shade. your fingers shook when you took them out in front of you. these can barely cover anything, you gulped.

you caught a tinge of gold in the corner of your eye and saw that there was a white card peeking out amongst the paper. the card was lined with gold embellishments and there was a short message printed in red.

kitten, wear these for me. - k.t.

and who are you to not follow daddy’s orders?

you placed the garments at your side and set the box on the floor. you began to undress, removing your cotton bra and panties which you threw on the floor, somehow landing inside the open box.

your naked body was exposed to the cool air and you shivered, head buzzing and eyes slightly drooping from the alcohol you consumed. you took the lace with delicate fingers and gasped upon inspection of the panties.

you were taken aback by the design because not only did it lack enough cloth to cover your entire lower region, but they were crotchless. your mouth dried at the obscenity, hazy mind playing images of kuroo rutting into you without having to remove anything.

that was most likely his intention after all. you slowly stood up from the bed and softly moaned at the slickness between your thighs, pussy clearly excited and aching for his dick. you slipped your legs through them and grabbed the matching bra. you moaned when you clipped it on, nipples hardening when the lacy pattern rubbed against them.

you might as well be wearing nothing with the way you barely felt the fabric against your sensitive skin. you yawned as you laid on your back, the numerous glasses of wine you drank finally caught up with you.

you tried to fight it, you really did. but you were fighting a losing battle with your eyes and besides, you were only going to close them for a bit. you’d wake up before your daddy comes over, right?

you ended up dozing off. you woke up with a moan, alcohol already flushed out of your body. you slightly squirmed as you felt something wet on your tits and a moving pressure in your pussy. you slowly opened your eyes and found a large body looming over you.

“do you know how long i’ve been waiting to fuck you?” kuroo asked, lips pulling away from your clothed nipple with a pop when he realized that you were finally awake.

“three fucking years. yet you had the audacity to be asleep when i arrived? i’m going to wreck your slutty pussy, whore,” he growled as he scissored his long fingers inside your pussy faster. you cried out in pleasure, hands reaching for his wrist as you tried to slow his movements.

“d-daddy, i’m sorry!” you cried as you arched your back. he just grunted and removed his wet fingers from your cunt. you whimpered at the loss because his fingers always felt so good when they moved inside of you. he stared you down instead, large hands loosening his red tie—you noticed that it matched the lingerie you were wearing—and promptly removed it.

he bit his lip as he reached down and made you wear it instead, cock twitching in his pants as he reveled at the sight of you wearing his gift, and in his favorite color no less. he unbuttoned his white dress shirt, muscles rippling from the movement.

even though he didn’t play volleyball all that much anymore, he still maintained his toned body. if it weren’t for his salt and pepper hair, you wouldn’t think he was decades older than you. not that it mattered, anyway.

“you look so sexy in red, kitten,” he whispered, the sound of his belt unbuckling mixing with your heavy breathing. you gulped when you saw that he wasn’t wearing any underwear, eyes widening at the sheer size of him. he stepped out of his pants and smirked when he saw your reaction.

“fuck, your pussy is so pretty. can’t believe i waited this long to fuck it,” he hissed as he spread your legs, your crotchless panties baring your pussy to his eyes, making them twitch under his scrutiny.

he groaned as he rubbed his hard cock on your slit between your folds. you moaned at the stimulation, thankful that he didn’t thrust inside immediately because that would’ve been more painful than pleasurable.

“i was e-eighteen when we first met, y-you could’ve fucked me—oh that feels good—any t-time you wanted to, why didn’t you?” you stuttered as you shivered from the pleasure his slick cock was giving you.

you planted your feet flat on the bed as you took hold of his cock and humped it with fervor, moaning at the slick sounds it made with your lower lips.

kuroo hissed at the increase in stimulation, warm hands grabbing the back of your thighs and folding your legs toward your chest as he thrusted faster between your folds. you moaned louder as you let go of his throbbing cock to bunch the sheets in your fingers.

“you know what they say, good things come to those who wait,” he grunted, hips thrusting faster, making your pussy wetter and slicker.

“besides, you were still a shy and innocent girl back then—until i corrupted you, obviously,” he teased you as he moved one hand to your mouth, inserting his fingers between your lips. you moaned as you sucked, slightly tasting yourself on his fingers.

“i don’t think you could’ve handled this big...fat...cock,” he grunted as he clenched his jaw from the pleasure.

“but now? now you’re my little whore who’s about to know what it feels like to get fucked by a man,” he growled, separating himself from your body. you whimpered, arms reaching out for him but he held your wrists in one hand and placed them above your head.

“you’re already dumb when i fuck you with my mouth and fingers...they’re nothing compared to my dick,” he said frankly, fingertips lightly teasing your puffy clit, aching from the lack of release from the continuous stimulation of his cock. he let go of your wrists and moved his hand to your thigh, fingers circling your skin.

“i-i don’t think your cock will f-fit daddy,” you said in a small voice, staring at his twitching cock.

“nonsense baby, i trained you to deepthroat me, remember?” he reminded you, memories of all the times you sucked his cock filling both your minds.

“i’m going to train this pussy as well. you’ll be begging me to never leave your cunt after i’m done with you,” he declared, positioning himself between your legs again.

“now hump my cock again, kitten. faster this time,” he ordered you, fitting his cock between your lower lips once more.

“yeah just like that—fuck,” he groaned when you ground your clit with more force on his shaft. you cried out at the movement, pussy gushing out more of your juices.

“you like that, hm? like how you’re making my cock wet with your slick?” he taunted you, fingers squeezing the skin of your thigh as he rutted his hips faster.

“can’t wait for me to—shit—bottom out in that tight cunt?” he growled, basking in the heat emanating from your pussy.

you moaned loudly, hips rolling as the knot in your lower stomach threatened to burst. your breasts were freely swaying with each movement your hips made. you threw your head back as your mouth fell open, uncaring of the volume of your cries and whimpers.

“i’m cumming, daddy!” you screamed, pussy clenching around nothing as you drenched your daddy’s cock with your cum. kuroo followed suit, groaning loudly when he released his cum all over your stomach, staining the front of your barely-there panties.

“such a dumb cockslut, you came by just humping my cock?” he teased you. your face warmed in embarrassment, hiding your face in the pillows. kuroo chuckled, honey eyes glinting in mischief. well, he came by just humping your pussy, so he was one to talk.

he spread your lower lips, puffy clit exposed to the air. you shivered at the chill but quickly yelped when he spanked your clit a few times.

“d-daddy!” you exclaimed but he just laughed at you. “just wanted to slap your clit, baby,” he chuckled, hand slapping it once more.

you tried to squirm away from his spanks but he held you in place. he held his throbbing cock with one hand and guided it back to your clenching hole. he rubbed the tip against your sensitive clit before inserting his cock in your pussy.

“t-too big daddy!” you cried out, tears forming in your eyes as his cockhead went past your tight muscle.

“shh baby, i know you can do it. you can take my cock, yeah that’s a good girl,” he cooed, palm flat against your stomach with his thumb rubbing the skin. you sucked in a breath as he slowly slipped his cock inside your virgin pussy inch by inch.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good with my fat cock that you won’t even care if my daughter catches us,” he growled when he bottomed out. you whimpered at the force of his sudden thrust and the implication of what he said. he only let you adjust to his large cock for a few moments before he started thrusting lazily.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he taunted you as his thrusts increased in speed and strength. you moaned louder, body shaking with the thrusting of his hips.

“n-no s-stop! she’s going to hear you!” you begged, voice cracking when he folded your body in half. he began pounding ruthlessly into your pussy, the slick sounds of skin meeting skin filling the air and making you lightheaded from the pleasure.

“so? i dare you to scream my name, slut. watch her bust that door down,” he mocked you, hands pushing your knees further up your chest. you whimpered at the stretch, the sounds of the headboard thumping against the shared wall only served to make you clench around your daddy’s cock.

“fuck—how do you think her face would look when she sees you taking my cock like a good little bitch?” he growled when he felt you squeeze his cock. he grunted as he thrusted faster, balls slapping against your ass.

“yeah just like that, you want me to cum inside you? fill this slutty pussy to the brim? fuck my cum so deep into your pussy that you’ll get pregnant?” kuroo groaned, throwing his head back as he felt his abdomen tighten, the signal that his orgasm was fast approaching.

you held your bouncing tits in your hands, his silk tie only adding to your pleasure as it rubbed against your sensitive skin. “n-no please!” you pleaded, tears falling from your eyes.

“you’re on the pill, aren’t you?” he asked, jaw clenching because he was stopping himself from cumming immediately. he wanted to spill all of his load in one go, after all.

“y-yes daddy b-but—!” you squealed, stinging pain blooming in your chest when kuroo pinched your nipple.

“then take my fucking cum, whore,” he demanded, cock throbbing because he was so ready to spill all of his hot cum.

“n-no daddy! please don’t cum inside me!” you screamed, eyes rolling to the back of your head and tongue lolling out as his cock hit your g-spot.

“shut up and take it,” he growled, hands squeezing your waist as his thrusts grew erratic.

he groaned loudly when he saw your fucked out face, thrusting so deep that his cock teased the entrance of your cervix. his hot cum spurting out of his cock as he filled your pussy.

“daddy you’re cumming so much—oh my god!” you screamed as you came with him, legs shaking from the intense fucking.

“your cum’s filling up my pussy, fuck and it feels so hot too!” you cried out, throat raw from the sounds that came out of your mouth ever since he came inside your room.

kuroo removed his hands from your waist—one hand snaking around your neck, applying slight pressure to the sides as he rode your pussy to prolong his orgasm.

his other hand moved to straighten your leg, rubbing your outer thigh while he cooed at you. “you like my cum, baby?” he asked softly, hips slowly rocking back and forth. you whimpered, your overstimulated pussy aching from his never-ending thrusts.

his movements caused his cum to overflow and seep out the sides of his cock. the mixed fluids fell out of your pussy, sliding down your ass and drenching the sheets beneath you.

“don’t be shy, baby. you can tell daddy if you like his cum,” he encouraged you, leaning down to kiss you languidly on the lips.

“i-i love your cum daddy,” you tell him in between kisses.

“that’s my good girl. happy birthday, my sweet kitten.”

you open your eyes when your best friend throws the damp towel to your face. “quit daydreaming about him! you were moaning ‘daddy! daddy!’ like he was actually fucking you!” she yells while crossing her arms across her chest.

you duck your head in shame. great, now i’m even messier and wetter down there, you grumble. you wince when you hear the squelching sound—dear god i hope she didn’t hear it—as you shift to face her properly while she walks over to you.

“so! tell me more about him, what’s his name?” she asks animatedly, chin resting on her fists as she sits beside you on the island. you swallow thickly, a lump suddenly weighing down in your throat. you inhale a deep breath before coming up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“he’s a shy and private guy...i’m not telling you his name yet because...i really want you to meet him in person, you know...?” you already know him—you’re related to him! you scream in your head.

your palms feel sweaty as your nerves are on the verge of frying themselves. you bite your lip while you rub your thighs together, wincing immediately as you feel her dad’s cum drench your panties and shorts further.

“well, judging by your reaction right now and the sounds last night, he’s not really the shy type when it comes to bedroom activities,” your best friend pouts at your secrecy and then smirks, eyebrows wiggling.

your face burns in embarrassment and guilt, if only she knew she was talking about her dad.

“anyway, i’m going to the library right now, i’m so done with this paper,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“take care and have fun laz—dad! what’s up? what brings you here?” she squeals in delight when she sees him and jumps into her father’s arms while he kisses the top of her head.

your pussy quivers at the sight of your daddy, and when his eyes land on you, he winks deviously then places his daughter back on the floor.

“can’t i visit my favorite girls on my day off?” he says to her while looking at you. your best friend is clearly oblivious to the desire that was swimming in her father’s sharp eyes.

“well, i’m going to the library to finish my paper. you guys can hang out in the meantime, but don’t watch our show without me!” she says as she walks out the door and ends her sentence with a click.

kuroo locks the door and turns to you, eyes glinting like a predator. he picks your body up and sits on the chair, settling you on his lap and wrapping his long arms around your middle. his large hand cups your cheek and he kisses you, earning a moan from your mouth when his tongue massages yours.

you kiss for a while and then he pulls away from your lips. he grabs your chin firmly, fingers squeezing your cheek open as he spits inside your mouth. you moan while swallowing his spit, hands reaching for his stubbled face before kissing each other sloppily once more.

“you keeping my cum warm for me, kitten?” he asks, lips separating from yours to leave kisses and nips on your jaw. you moan and squirm on his lap as his other hand sneaks inside the waistband of your shorts and inserts two thick fingers in your messy and dripping cunt.

“such a good girl for daddy. you kept his promise,” he growls lowly, biting the skin of your neck and leaving a mark which he soothes with his warm tongue.

“i think my kitten deserves a reward, hm? would you like that?” he asks you, fingers curling inside your tight walls.

“y-yes daddy!” you whimper, grinding your hips on his lap. he smirks and removes his fingers from your cunt and stands up from the chair. you whine at the loss of stimulation and he shushes you with his finger—the one he had inside of you seconds ago.

“let’s go to your room, shall we? daddy missed his favorite girl.”

[1:14 PM]

[bubblegumbeech]

My first Phic Phight fic!

For @ecto-american’s prompt

His name was Danny.

That was the first thing he knew for sure was true, when he had first woken up it was what everyone called him, and it fit just fine, wasn’t something off or uncomfortable so he let it settle over him before he tried to speak.

His voice didn’t come at first, and it hurt to try so the nurses made him promise to take it easy for now, to sit back and listen. So he did.

He listened as the people around him spoke at length about how much they missed him, about how they couldn’t wait to get him home again, about how glad they were he’d survived.

The loudest and most talkative of the people that visited him and called him Danny, was a large man in an orange jumpsuit that went on long enthusiastic tangents that Danny had long stopped paying attention to. He was almost always with a smaller, authoritative woman named Maddie, who insisted He call her Mom. They told him they were his parents.

They told him they loved him.

And then they told him everything else.

The first time Danny remembered something it was with excitement, he was still in the hospital room and between the visits from the men in the starched white suits, his parents, and the doctor, he had been wrestling with the feeling that something was missing.

It had only been when Maddie had finally taken off the hood and goggles of her jumpsuit had Danny gotten a flash of familiar red hair and asked, “where’s Jazz?”

His heart buzzed at the question, sure, so sure that it would get answered, that he had remembered something.

But both Jack and Maddie had just looked at him, disappointed, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask again.

Eventually, once the doctor declared him competent and unlikely to slip back into his coma, his parents had taken him home.

There were streamers all over the house and a giant party banner that read “Welcome Back” in thick black lettering and Danny forced out a small smile as he looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings. Maddie walked up behind him and he flinched, his body acting before his brain could catch up.

She had frowned at his reaction, and when Danny, stuttering, tried to apologize she said it was okay, and with a tightlipped smile, she pulled him into a hug.

He forced himself to relax, frustrated with himself. This was his mother, there was no reason for his instincts to be so afraid. Jack had joined the hug and eventually Danny found himself relaxing for real, sure maybe getting his memories back was a slow uphill climb, but at least he wouldn’t do it alone.

Eventually his parents let him go and told him he was free to walk around the house and reacquaint himself with it. His room was the first door on the left upstairs, the bathroom was down the hall and the basement, apparently, was off limits.

So Danny went upstairs into his room. It looked something like a teenager’s room he supposed. There were the posters hung haphazardly on the walls and they were torn at the corners as if someone had ripped them all off the walls before hastily taping them back up. The bed was made too, and there was a lot less dust than he was expecting after being gone for a whole month.

In fact, it looked like he’d cleaned and organized the whole room before he’d fallen into his coma and Danny didn’t know why, but that thought set him on edge. Maybe he was just an organized person?

It was just… he didn’t feel very organized.

He kept looking around. There was that feeling that something was missing, something important to him, and he walked over to the nightstand by his bed. Placing a hand on the polished wood Danny fought the flash of a model spaceship that appeared in his memories. It wasn’t here though and Danny frowned. Was that something else he’d thrown away and simply forgotten?

Shaking his head Danny headed back downstairs, maybe he should just ask Jack, er, his dad? He should really get used to calling them mom and dad. But before he headed down he went to the room across from his and knocked.

Maybe he was being foolish, but he had expected someone to answer, had a name even come to mind. When no answer came he opened the door himself only to find a storage room, nothing but shelves and boxes and Danny scolded himself for the painful ache he felt in his heart.

It was another week before Danny had another memory, and just like the last two, it didn’t fit quite right. Like a piece from another puzzle jammed where it shouldn’t fit. So he’d asked Maddie.

“Sam?” she’d said, a carefully blank look on her face, “Oh! I remember Sam, she was an old friend of yours you used to talk about her all the time. Shame she moved away.”

And just like that, he’d had his answer as ill fitting as it was. Sam was a girl he knew that moved away, the memory he’d had, of her crying face screaming at him to stay awake just stay awake damnit, was probably from a long time ago. The pain he felt in his chest -just to the right of his heart- at the thought of her not being near and that he’d probably never see her again? That was nothing important.

It was another couple of weeks of sleeping in that house, waking up and going downstairs to eat with his parents, to chat about memories he didn’t have and tell stories he never resonated with, before he woke up screaming for the first time.

Maddie had instantly run into his room, Jack not far behind and Danny scrambled away from them both. His mind filled with images of painful green light and the ominous glint of red goggles twisting his reflection in their lenses as they looked down on him.

His parents had pushed past the barrier of pillows and blankets he’d made and pulled him into their arms, rocking him and shushing him until eventually he’d tired himself out from crying and fallen asleep again. The nightmares returned.

Eventually Danny stopped asking questions about his memories.

Either they were incomplete, fragments of something real that had been twisted in time, or they were wrong entirely, figments of his own active imagination. He’d never had a sister, they insisted. It was his mother, Maddie that had stayed up late some nights to help him with his homework and bake him safe, edible cookies as a reward. Tucker was a kid he knew at school, yes, but he’d moved away years ago and they hadn’t spoken in person since.

He had blue eyes, when he looked in the mirror, not green.

It was frustrating, being unable to trust himself- his own memories. If it was anything more than broken, incomplete fragments he’d have argued, insisted they were real.

But then again, he also had memories of Maddie leaning over him, scalpel in hand to cut away at his flesh. And he knew that couldn’t be true; the woman that smiled every time he came downstairs, called him sweetie and kissed him on his forehead every night, wasn’t the monster in his dreams. She couldn’t be.

So he ignored them.

He ignored the moments of instinct when Maddie or Jack went for a hug or a kiss and he flinched, ready for an attack. He ignored how he never seemed able to give a straight answer when they asked about his day, even if he hadn’t done anything interesting at all. And he ignored his nightmares, stuffing towels under his doorframe to muffle the sounds of his screams. There was no reason to keep waking up his parents like that.

But no matter how much he ignored, he compartmentalized, or he forced himself to smile, to hug back, and to spend time bonding with his parents, he never felt safe. Maddie insisted that he was, of course she did, this was his home. But even as he smiled and agreed and let her hug him again, he wanted to leave.

This time his dream wasn’t a nightmare. No scary, well lit labs with beakers and glowing buttons, or disgusting, painful flowers shoved into his mouth. Instead there was the ticking of clocks, rhythmic and constant. A gloved hand gently soothed his hair back, and Danny’s fear seemed so far away.

It was the first full night of sleep he’d had since he’d gotten “home”.

That morning he’d asked for an analogue clock. His parents had been confused, but they acquiesced easily and took him to the store to pick one out. The one he’d ended up choosing was a large ornate antique with little clockwork gears and a loud tick. He was excited to put it up in his room, right above his bed.

He slept better after that, and some of the tension that had been building in the house eased.

His dreams were still mostly nightmares, attacks by inhuman ghostly figures were the most prominent. But they didn’t leave the same bitter aftertaste, fear and uncertainty as the ones with the table, the scalpel, and the round, red goggles.

But now they were interspersed with better ones, fuzzy hugs and fields of blinding white, sitting in a garden pruning flowers as a soft, familiar voice gave him instructions, playing video games as the player character, confident and excited with a familiar presence at his back. And his favorite ones, the ones in the clock tower with the hooded figure and his soft smiles. The ones where he felt safest.

The ones that couldn’t be real, not if what his parents told him was true.

The next time they went out as a family after that Danny had wanted to go to a garden, and while at first Maddie was hesitant, Jack had insisted the great outdoors were perfect for helping him recover properly. Danny had been thrilled and hugged both of them in thanks, their answering smiles were soft and Danny had the thought that it had been some time since he’d seen those smiles reach their eyes.

Danny had a video game he apparently liked to play called Doom, and he was pretty good at it, judging by the level of his character. When he tried to message either of the two friends he had on his contact list though, the game glitched and his info got deleted. Frustrated he tried to reboot the system but the game itself had somehow gotten corrupted and there was no hope in recovery.

Just another thing that was apparently important to him that he’d destroyed or couldn’t find.

The worst was the time he woke with Maddie sitting next to him in his bed, she had a troubled look on her face and he didn’t know what it was he’d done wrong. Had he screamed in his sleep without knowing it?

“Danny honey,” she had said, looking over to him but not meeting his eyes, “do you remember what you dreamed about?”

He’d answered no, he hadn’t, which was mostly true. The only thing he really remembered about his dream was the feeling of safety and the ticking of a clock.

It took a month for Danny’s parents to feel comfortable leaving him alone in the house in order to go to work. He watched them walk out the door, fending off forehead kisses and muttered reassurances that they’d be home soon to check on him and that he should call if he needed anything, anything at all.

Once the door clicked shut however, the smile dropped off of Danny’s face and he set his eyes on the one thing he’d wanted… no, needed to do since he had that first nightmare.

He went to the basement.

The feeling of going down the stairs stumbled over a vague, blurry memory and Danny felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. This was just to be sure, just to prove to himself that all those dreams, all those nightmares he’d been having since his parents brought him home, were just that, nightmares.

He opened the door at the bottom of the stairs, confused when there was no lock, no resistance at all. Hadn’t they said he was banned from being down here? Why wouldn’t they lock it? Even Bluebeard locked the door his wife wasn’t supposed to enter.

The basement was…

A basement.

There were no spooky ominous beakers of strange and unrecognizable fluids, no haphazard lab equipment lying around without safety devices, nothing sterile or blinking and there was certainly no large metal table to strap someone down on.

It was just a normal basement with boxes and a desk, some chairs, a couple of old pieces of random furniture and Danny let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. This meant that Maddie was right, they really were just nightmares, probably some subconscious latent fear of going home with strangers that he couldn’t remember. That was all.

So why did he feel disappointed?

The next week was full of Danny waiting for his parents to leave before exploring the house more thoroughly. More than once he’d gotten caught in a half remembered routine that didn’t actually fit with his surroundings. Like bracing for a fight every time he opened the fridge, or expecting another flight of stairs after the second floor. Once he’d even risked going outside for a walk, trying to find his school based on half remembered directions that only served to get him lost.

It was a new routine that Danny found himself thankful for.

Not that he didn’t love his parents, he did! But for some reason, when they were gone, and it was just him with his space posters and his ornate ticking clock, and the piles of modified schoolwork that was supposed to help him when it was time to reintegrate into school, he felt a lot more relaxed. More carefree.

That was why, when he’d found the picture, it had felt like his world had crashed around him.

His parents had come home to find him sitting in the middle of the basement, tears long dried, and with the picture clutched tight in his hands, crumpled now with how long it had been.

“You lied to me.” he accused once they were within earshot. He didn’t have the energy to speak much louder than a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silence nonetheless.

“Danny-boy we can explain-”

“No!” Danny shouted, getting to his feet, “You lied to me .”

Jack flinched back and Maddie stepped in front of him, protective, as if somehow, out of the three of them Danny might be the threat. He growled.

“I trusted you to tell me the truth, I trusted you with my memories, memories that were lost to me . I had a sister! You had a daughter . She existed, she was real, she’s in this photo! Smiling! ” Danny couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, it was all too much. To know that the girl in his shattered memories, the one with the soft hugs and the floral scents, that baked him cookies and held him when he cried at night, was real. And that she was gone, erased by the people he was supposed to be able to trust.

He moved to storm past them, to go upstairs or maybe even outside and look up at the sky and try to make something of the twisting, knotted mess that was his emotions, his mind, his everything right now. But Maddie grabbed his arm before he could, tears spilling from her eyes.

“We didn’t want to hurt you Danny.” she said, voice soft and broken, “we didn’t want to give and then take away.”

She pulled him into a hug and Danny didn’t bother to struggle or try and break out of it, just let her cry into his shoulder as he stood there, waiting for his own tears to dry.

The next day Jack and Maddie left for work with more reluctance, neither one willing to leave Danny on his own again. But worry didn’t pay the bills and whatever it was they were doing at their job, it was clearly important. That was something Danny was starting to remember, all the things that were more important than him.

Danny went to the library this time, determined to start figuring things out on his own. His parents had said that his sister, Jazz, had died in the accident that had put him in a coma. They said they didn’t want to hurt him, or risk him not wanting to recover his memories if they were painful and that grief was difficult to deal with even without the head trauma and emotional conflict.

His parents said a lot of things, Danny was starting to realize. And almost none of it could be trusted to be true.

The first thing he did was look for a death certificate for his sister, Jazz Fenton. After hours of searching, reading every single name that existed in every obituary for this town in the entire month when his parents claimed the accident had happened.

But there was nothing. Nothing at all.

So next he looked up phone records. Any Tuckers or Samanthas he could find, but he couldn’t remember their last names at all, just what they looked like.

How they had been crying over him.

He didn’t know if he believed that they’d just moved away. Then again, it was becoming increasingly clear that he didn’t know what to believe, if he believed anything at all. By the time he’d gotten home it was late, and his parents were already there.

At first they didn’t believe he was just at the library “trying to catch up on stuff” but they calmed back down once he’d shown them his library card and snapped that if he couldn’t even do that much why did they bother bringing him back from the hospital at all.

Dinner had been a quiet affair.

It took another week of library visits and recurring nightmares of dissection tables and glowing ghostly figures that attacked him before Danny gave up on finding out anything about Sam or Tucker. But he still didn’t stop searching for Jazz.

There was something almost obsessive about his search for her, he just couldn’t let it go. He had to know where she was, and if his parents, against all odds, hadn’t lied to him about that ... Well that was something he’d have to come to terms with when he came to it, not before.

He started scouring the Internet for her name desperate to find something, anything on her. And eventually he did.

There was an old article, from at least half a decade ago, that had her picture under the title “Four Teens go Missing in wake of Fenton Investigation”.

Next to her were two equally familiar pictures. Sam and Tucker… and then Danny himself.

Scrolling, desperate to find something, anything to add up the memories he was getting into a clear picture, he began to read the article.

In wake of the Investigation into the Fenton‘s possible abuse, Danny Fenton (15), his sister Jazz Fenton (17), and two friends Sam Manson and Tucker Foley (15), have seemingly disappeared.

The discovery came shortly after Jack and Madeline Fenton were released on parol and allowed to return home to spend time with their children since no physical proof could be found of any alleged wrongdoings.

What could have caused their disappearances remains a mystery. The prevailing theory is that they were involved in a cult that may have demonized the Fenton parents due to their controversial occupation as “ghost hunters”. Another popular theory is that the children fled the results of the case, afraid of the alleged illegal experimentation. Other theories include kidnapping, witness protection, the possibility of murder, and tying up loose ends.

Will we ever discover the truth? It remains to be seen.

Ghost hunters …

Danny felt his stomach drop, a wave of nausea rolled through him and he had to fight off the urge to relive his lunch.

Experimentation?

Nightmares and half remembered memories started clicking into place, finally , and Danny couldn’t stand it. Why were the only answers that made sense the ones that hurt the worst?

Would it have been better if he’d just let it go? If his memories never returned at all? If he just kept living, eating homemade cookies and flinching from hugs until eventually the itch underneath his skin dulled and he could just be happy as he was.

He closed the tab.

There was no one home when he got there, and it gave him the chance to pack what little belongings he had that held any meaning to him at all. The motions were familiar and he had the faintest feeling he had done exactly this before.

Maybe he had.

He’d made it out the front door by the time his parents pulled into the drive.

There was the urge to run, to go back inside and hide and pretend he hadn’t been doing exactly what they caught him doing. But he was tired. He was so tired of feeling wrong and scared and uncertain and never knowing why.

So he held his head up as they got into the car and approached them with their hands raised, cautiously, like he was a wild animal they were afraid of spooking.

Was that what they thought he was?

“Danny, we can talk about this,” Maddie said, beseeching.

He met her eyes with his own. “Will you promise not to lie anymore? I don’t even know how old I am-”

“You’re fifteen son-” Jack interrupted, lying again.

“I was fifteen five years ago!” Danny yelled, his hand tightening into a fist, “I found the article! I read about the case! Five years ago.”

“Danno…”

Oh, he was crying. It was novel almost, Danny had thought he was too tired to cry, that there wasn’t anything more that could hurt him enough to create such a response and he didn’t quite know how to react to it.

He raised his hands awkwardly to scrub the tears away and stepped back, frightened, when Maddie tried to move closer to comfort him.

“Stay back! Stay back…” he looked at his hands, they were young hands, his reflection too, hadn’t changed from the picture in the article at all. Experiments. “What did you do to me?”

“It was an accident.” Jack said, before Maddie stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“We didn’t know Danny. How could we have?” She said, keeping her distance, cautious. “We tried to fix it-”

“Fix what? ” He hissed, “you haven’t told me what happened! You haven’t told me anything!”

“You!” Maddie finally snapped, tears falling heavy down her cheeks. “We were trying to fix you… but it wasn’t working and you just kept getting sicker… weaker… we had to stop.”

It was too much for her, and she turned away, leaning into Jack’s large frame as he comforted her. “We didn’t want to lose you, Danny.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You already did.”

Danny left his parents there, crying on the driveway of a house that could never have been a home. He had a clock tower to find.

[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || 14

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime is easy. your feelings aren’t ignored, either. after finally telling him the truth, there’s a lot of tension in the air.

warnings: f!reader

wc: 2k

m.list | ch. 13 ↞ ch. 14 ↠ ch. 15

Try as you might, you just couldn’t pay attention to your lecture.

The lecturer droned on in the archetypal slow drawl, slowly clicking through their powerpoint for each new point. Thank God they had the decency to upload the PDF after the lecture – you’d just take all the important notes from that.

Getting back to some sense of normalcy, back to the thrum of everyday life, was supposed to take your mind off things. But it didn’t. Tooru, Hajime, the whole damn mess – it still wavered in the back of your mind, flickering in and out of conscious thought.

It was almost impossible to ignore.

“Give him time,” Iwaizumi had said, exhausted. “It’s up to him now.”

He was right. You knew that. But it didn’t make you feel any better.

Your phone buzzed in your lap. Frowning, you looked down and turned the screen upwards.

Everything stopped. Your eyes shot wide, your heart beating erratically to the tempo of the ringing.

You gathered your things up in an instant and fled from the lecture hall as unobtrusively as possible, hands trembling as you jabbed at the ‘answer call’ icon.

The girls’ bathroom seemed to be empty as you rushed through the doors and sought out the closest cubicle. You held the phone up to your ear as you sat down on the toilet lid, breathless.

“Hello?”

A silence answered you. Had you been too late? Just missed it? Would it be amiss to call back immed—

“Hey.” Tooru’s voice was tight, sharp, unfamiliar.

“Hey,” you echoed, a queasy uneasiness settling in your stomach. Why was he calling you now? Why hadn’t he warned you?

You hadn’t been given any time to prepare.

Maybe he’d done that on purpose. Maybe he was trying to catch you off-guard.

“Did you… did you want to talk?” You asked.

Some part of you still wanted to fight, to get all scrappy and shout again. You didn’t want to grovel, to beg him for forgiveness, to rebuke anything you’d said prior.

But you didn’t want to throw this all away, either. He’s still your brother; even if he’s a brat, even if he’s selfish, even if he’s inconsiderate.

“Yeah,” he swallowed.

You bit the inside of your cheek, totally at a loss of what to say next.

God, this was so awkward. You’d never had this much trouble talking to your brother before. Well, trouble, maybe, but discomfort… It’s almost worse than the anger. At least there’s something to say during the fire. There’s just ash in the aftermath.

“I just…” Tooru sighed. You could visualise him gripping his hair with frustration, or touching his forehead with the tips of his fingers. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Ah.

That was the question, wasn’t it?

If you’d just said something all those years ago, maybe you could’ve avoided this entire debacle. But how were you supposed to know? You didn’t know anything when you were in high school.

You hadn’t known that you’d be sitting in your university’s bathroom, halfway across the world from home, feeling like you were about to spew your guts out because the thought of talking to your brother terrified you so damn much.

The only time you’d ever been scared of Tooru was when Hajime was involved. But scared of what?  

“I… I thought you’d be mad,” you mumbled.

It sounded silly now. Scared of Tooru? Scared of your own damn brother? Pathetic.

But you weren’t the only one.

“And Iwaizumi, he…” It was all a blur, but you could remember one thing. The fear of disapproval.

Iwaizumi had been terrified that Tooru would disapprove. Worst of all, he’d been afraid that Tooru would misunderstand it all.

“He told me that one of the other guys on the team asked about me,” you said quietly, “and that you got really mad.”

Tooru laughed. “What, he thought I’d disapprove of him just because I didn’t want Yahaba getting anywhere near my sister?”

“I heard you got pretty mad,” you mumbled. In truth, you were still kind of pissed about that. Tooru had no say in who you did and didn’t date – much less who had a right to a relationship with you.

Although, you felt you’d made that much clear the last time you’d spoken to him.

“And let me guess,” Tooru sighed after a long moment, “Iwaizumi didn’t want to create a big mess and pit us against each other and break a bunch of hearts.”

“Mhm,” you nodded slowly.

“Sounds about right…” Tooru grumbled.

“He also was worried that you’d think…” You swallowed roughly, the words sticking to your throat. “That you’d think he was messing around with me.”

It was the worst thing he’d said. The implication that he wasn’t serious, that it was all a game to him; of everything he’d said that awful day, that’d hurt the most.

“Messing around with you?” Tooru scoffed. “Like he’s the type of guy to do that…”

There was comfort in hearing those words. But they have a different pallor from the last time you’d spoken with him; had Hajime’s words moved him so much? What had been said between them? You hadn’t asked out of fear, but maybe you should’ve…

“You sounded pretty angry the other day,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, but…”

There was still a terseness in his voice, an edge that he couldn’t soften.

He was trying. Hard. He wasn’t hiding how he felt, but he was… containing it. Was he coddling you?

No. No, he was trying to be reasonable. You couldn’t fault him for that, at least.

“Look… I’m not going to sit here and pretend I’m not mad,” Tooru sighed.

Your gut twisted, your instincts screaming at you to hang up, to avoid Tooru for the rest of time, to do anything you could to avoid that anger. You’d faced it once; you never wanted to face it again.

But Tooru didn’t raise his voice. If he really was still mad, he was stymieing it gently, keeping it contained.

“I just…” His words were quiet, barely audible. “I just want to understand what went wrong.”

Your thoughts skidded to a halt. “What went wrong?”

That’s… a big question. A really big question. One with all sorts of caveats, countless nooks and crannies to fall into and get lost in. Hell, you weren’t even sure if the two of you had the same interpretation of that question.

“Well… neither of you told me, right? But from the sounds of it, you got pretty hurt.”

That felt like an understatement. But what would Tooru know? What could Tooru know?

“I… I don’t know, Tooru,” you sighed. You were no longer the kid you were back then. “Hajime made the decisions but I… I just went along with it. I didn’t… advocate for myself, I guess.”

You couldn’t blame yourself for that. There you were, infatuated with your older brother’s friend, and terrified of making a mess.

And that’d been considerate of you. There was no reason to be upset with yourself for thinking about others.

But you’d forgotten yourself, letting your own feelings get shoved aside for a ‘maybe’. ‘Maybe’ you’d break up. ‘Maybe’ Tooru would be mad. ‘Maybe’ it’d cause a mess. How were you supposed to live your life protecting other people from possibilities, from problems that hadn’t even taken root?

A ‘maybe’ meant you could prepare. Meant you could make promises, make vows, make sure that the outcome wouldn’t be as bad as any of you feared. As much as you could.

“I think Iwaizumi was more scared than I was,” you admitted.

Perhaps it’s not your secret to tell; frankly, you don’t really know if it’s true. But you knew Iwaizumi, and you knew his heart.

You hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but it felt like the truth. Maybe he’d had more to lose than you. Maybe he was worried that his relationship with Tooru would never recover. You had the safety net of being a family member; someone he’d have to forgive one day, even if the mere act of dating his friend seemed like an insurmountable transgression to him.

Iwaizumi didn’t have that security.

Tooru was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “What, did he feel like he was betraying me or something?”

Your stomach twisted at his choice of words.

“Not… not that I ‘own’ you,” he mumbled, as though tripping over what he just said. “But, you know… teenage brains and all that. They’re not exactly reasonable.”

You bit your lip, frowning. “I mean, I can’t be sure… You’d have to ask him about that.”

“Right…” Tooru sighed for what felt like the thousandth time this conversation. Well, at least he wasn’t shouting.

“Can I ask you a question?” Tooru asked, surprisingly apprehensive.

“Sure.”

“Did you ever hate me for it?’

The question shot through you with a jolt.

The unfortunate truth was yes. In a way, you had. It was hard not to feel some kind of bitterness towards him – for being so bright, for being so ambitious. And of course, for what happened with Iwaizumi. It felt like you’d lived half your life in a shadow, unable to distinguish yourself as anything other than ‘Tooru’s younger sister.’

But there was no way to say that. Not when it’s complicated. Not when it’s your brother.

“Nevermind,” Tooru said, clearing his throat. “Look, just… keep me in the loop from now on, okay?”

You grimaced. “You want to know all the details?”

“Of course not!” He damn near shrieked. “Just… you know. If you break up, or if you get engaged… stuff like that.”

Your face flushed hot. “Tooru—”

“Okay, that’s all!” He hummed. “See you later!”

“Wait, Toor—”

The phone buzzed against your ear, a sure sign that Tooru had taken his leave. You sighed, letting all the tension that’d gathered in your chest dissipate in your breath.

That was… weird.

But not unwelcome. Not unwelcome at all. Everything was uncertain; maybe Tooru would change his mind. Maybe he’d decide that, actually, he hated the idea of this and he’d disown you if you kept dating Iwaizumi.

But right then, sitting in your tiny university cubicle, you realised something.

It was all in your hands, now. You could choose the way forward.

✧ ✧ ✧

“Hajime!” You called as you rushed through your front door, bag in tow.

“Yeah?” He was standing in the kitchen, clad only in a pair of grey sweatpants as he unpacked the dishwasher.

You didn’t even take the time to marvel at the sight. The only thing on your mind was rushing towards him and throwing your arms around his neck.

“Everything okay?” He chuckled, placing a firm hand on your back.

“Mhm,” you hummed into his neck, revelling in his warmth. He was always so warm; your own man-sized furnace. Did his sheer amount of muscle mass have something to do with that?

“You’re back early,” he said after a moment.

“Oh, yeah,” you grinned, tilting your head back to look at him. “I left my lecture early.”

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at you.

“It’s fine,” you giggled, “I’ll just watch it later.”

Iwaizumi sighed, tutting under his breath as he leant in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. You knew he didn’t have the heart to actually scold you; not when your arms were wrapped around him.

You hummed into the kiss, slipping one of your hands into his hair.

It was nice, being with him like this. There was nothing to worry about anymore; you didn’t need to hide this. You didn’t need to push your feelings to the side and hope you’d just get over them. Finally, finally, it was okay to feel this way. To bare your heart without any shame.

It was one thing to stand up for yourself, to assert your right to do what you wanted.

But knowing that the one thing that’d always been holding you back, that’d taken your feelings hostage for God knew how long…

Everything just felt lighter.

[wattpadscapcons]

Memories of Her (Postgame!Yuki x Reader)

tw: Major spoilers, PTSD-like emotional breakdowns, anxiety attack, "guilt-tripping" if you can call it that, Syobai, Iroha, Shinji, Tsurugi, Utsuro, Yoruko, Rei, Akane, Hibiki, and Kanade mentioned, Seemingly unrequited love, ANGST to sorta fluff (implied happy ending?), almost co-dependency, borderline to full-blown toxic-obsession, constant switching of pronouns due to a shared body dynamic, stressful situations with a mediator, cliffhanger?, ect...

Word Count: 3367 oh wow look I beat my record

=

The vanity in front of him didn't serve the girl in question any justice, not at all. She was very pretty, and as Yuki had explained to you, a very caring intellectual. You loved playing with their hair, as it always seemed to get the calming effect for the both of you.

=

"It's...No. This body, it's not mine.... It's hers.... It's hers! I'm not..."

Today, unfortunately, it did nothing to aid in the attempt of calming down your despair-induced boyfriend, who was in the middle of a full-blown anxiety attack. Curled up in front of the mirror, a tangent leaving his brain through her voice, only causing him to further himself into their shared body's attempts of self-suffocation.

"I can't even look at myself.... herself.....her in the mirror without.... This isn't... my body, but she's... She can't... I can't...I..."

Yuki was once again forgetting how to breathe. You rushed to his side, gently prying their hands from her neck. He was scratching at her skin in some desperate attempt of forcing air back into his lungs, marks he'd regret and mourn over later.

"Yuki! Yuki, it's ok. Remember to breathe. I'm here... Ok? Remember what I taught you. Squeeze my hand, and focus on your senses only. Tell me five things you can sense."

=

It took a moment for him to even understand what you said, but he's trying his best for the both of you. Choking out what he could sense around them. The sight of them in such a state always has you on the brink of your own attack, and you do your best to stay strong for him. Breaking down would only scare the two of you, and cause him to black out, only to wake in pain. You couldn't let it happen again.

"Vanilla.... I can smell vanilla...."

"Good....That's good....What else can you sense?"

The carpet, the birds outside, the bedroom door, the vanilla oils from the aromatherapy machine you bought him, and your hand. All things he could sense through her. He was able to recover after a while curled up on the floor, just listing off things he could see, hear, and feel. When he told you he tasted something metallic, you quickly made note to check that he didn't bite through Sora's tongue after he could breathe and move freely again. A puncture being another thing he was upset at himself for.

=

You were his best support system, and one of the best people he could have ever have the pleasure to be in love with. Bringing him back to earth every time he felt he couldn't do it himself. He was dependent on you for comfort, a traumatized teenager still. Your gentle hands making him blissfully naïve once more, even if it was only for a little while.

You and Yoruko were the only ones to really stay near him. Yoruko often being saddened when she swings by, the delusion of Sora still being there opening fresh wounds every time she lays eyes on them. She'd never admit it out loud to either of you, but you can see it. She's still stuck on Sora, but is strong enough to move on, with the promise of Sora being recreated by Rei fueling her hope.

After saving Syobai and Iroha, the bridge collapsing.... He hasn't hear from either of them very often. He's seen them sure, but Syobai is always one to leave quickly, with Iroha following suit at the fear of being left behind again. Iroha sympathizes with Yuki, but is too unaware to the effects of them leaving really has on him. He's tried inviting her over before, and she's complied a few times. Meeting her gave you a better understanding on the voids, and insight into the mind of a child.

=

He'd been standing in front of that mirror for an hour before you found them slumped on the floor folded in on themselves. While this isn't the first time this has happened, this was the first time that he's overwhelmed his,,,er Sora's body to this extent. It was rather unlike him, seeing as how much this was tearing them apart both metaphorically and physically.

He's put in an immense amount of work into maintaining Sora's body in the best condition possible over the years. Just because he was still falling apart didn't mean she had to fall along with him. This was to honor her, but he had admitted to you that being in her body was the most unnatural thing for him to have to deal with in his life. He both loved and hated how he was to be forever reminded of her for the rest of his life, their shared life.

=

He loved the memory of her, as a dearly beloved friend, her voice, her face, and yet he still felt sick every time he looked her face in mirror. He had to face those flashbacks again and again almost dying by the hands of an AI. He'd remember her, and feel as he could never fill the void that was lost. You never wanted to replace her, he never could replace her, but he couldn't help but be glued to you. You were nothing like her, and yet he felt as if you were. A fantasy of his friends playing in his head as Sora and him daydream in unison. Rushing to you whenever for comfort when they became a living nightmare as the memories flooded back in again.

Memories of Shinji and Sora.

"She's gone... She gave me everything she had left... and yet I still feel greedy.... Does it make me a terrible person to say I feel like I don't deserve this...after everything that happened?"

"Not at all. While I know I wasn't there, I'm sure she didn't have any better options. You didn't either. You need to stop blaming yourself..."

"She didn't have any other options at all, and yet, she left the power in my hands. She saved me. They...they both saved me. I'm reminded of that everyday when I face her in the morning."

=

You felt as if he was losing it every morning. He'd always go and stare at the reflection of her in that mirror.

"Good moring...Sora...."

You hadn't have the heart to stop him though, as this one of his only methods of coping. He'd stare at her reflection for a while, running her hands through her hair, then turn to "wake you up" and attempt to start the day. It...was a struggle for him mentally, as much he didn't want to admit that he did everything right. He took care of the two of them at the same time, choking down food on the days when he had to fight to get the two out of bed.

=

He had met you after the incident and his escape, the memory as of how and why were still a giant blur to you thanks to his divine luck. He wasn't stable, and you tried your best to help him. Slowly he'd been getting better, and today was his relapse.

=

The first time he told you the whole story, you thought that he losing it. When you were able to reached out to the Kisaragi Foundation to confirm such suspicions, you were terrified to be told that it all happened for real. You were transferred to a line with Rei, the forcefulness of her interrogation was colder than you expected, with Tsurugi barking out orders in the background to "find them all now!".

Of course, that also meant that you and your darling partner had to move around a lot to avoid Tsurugi and his corrupted "police force" as Yuki had described it. He swore not to forgive Tsurugi for almost leaving him behind completely instead of saving him and the others as he was supposed to from the very beginning.

=

"I know, but-"

"Y/N do you even know how it feels to lose a great friend? Someone who made you feel better about just being yourself?"

"Not at the same extent as you have, no."

"She....forfeited her body for me to have a second chance... I really wish you could've met her..."

"The only "version" of her I've met is you sweetheart... I can say that I love the both of you rather easily."

=

The visions of him as himself would sometimes overlay on top of her body, not that you didn't love her too. You would give anything to be able to see Yuki smile as him, and not her, but her smile was just as precious and shared the same feel as him. You had no choice as to fall for her as well as for Yuki, as the power of her divine luck had deemed it to be your broken-hearted fate. You really shouldn't have searched up who he was online, so many things you never wanted to hear or know now buzz around in your head.

Those fuzzy, soft memories of a happy Yuki Sora flood your imagination senses once again. He has no idea just how much pain it causes you, but you'll never abandon him.

You feel as if you know them all, all fifteen of them. He paints them in a light that makes them all sound like angels despite their horns. Excluding Kanade, who he refuses to mention outside of just being a twin to Hibiki. He tried to draw them for you many times, gather articles about them, anything to get you to understand just what wonderful people he had around him before the game started.

"These...these were my friends...."

He smiles at their images despite the pain. You return it.

"I'm sure that they'd be proud of how far you've come. Especially-"

"Please don't say his name..."

=

You sometimes felt like you were taking the role of Akane, caring for someone who was similarly broken as Utsuro was. The very thought made you sick, knowing from the stories of pain that Yuki disclosed that their very existences should never be even thought of so mundanely, in such a.... humanizing manner.

As sick as the tune you sing is, divine luck keeps you bound to this cycle, to him and her. Sora and Yuki. You grieve for them almost every day, as Yuki tears himself,,,, themselves apart, only to restore that hope in him. In that sense you felt the fire Shinji had, a fond name to Yuki and you, and yet so painful to hear out loud.

=

"I could never do Sora justice, I can tell you that much. She was...so different than any other friend I had ever made."

"You, you really loved her. Didn't you?"

The way you said it made Yuki flinch a little, Sora's features contorting in a wincing motion, as if they had been hit. That was really the worst thing to ask him after just calming down. That question sends him right back onto a rollercoaster of stabbing emotions, causing their waterworks to start up once again.

"Yuki?"

"Please don't leave..."

He latches onto you, despair setting in at the thought of you vanishing from his life. It's almost being guilt-tripped, even if it was simply just a misunderstanding. The unintentional trigger being struck is enough to break him all over again, leaving you in your own personal hell. Being in love was more than you can take sometimes, furious with yourself for constant jealously over the person currently clinging to your side. Her, her, her, he never talks about you like he does her. The very person you face in the morning, forcing out hollow "I love you" 's in an attempt to reduce the pain it causes.

Your declarations never go unanswered, but you feel as if they were meant for her. Sora, who he stares at in the mirror and grieves for. You envy her for that, that power to always be in the back of his mind regardless of not really being real anymore.

Similar to dreaming of the perfect life with a happy family of your own, only to mourn for them as soon as you awake, you are stuck in your own cycle of self-torture. Doubting his love for you is your self-destruct switch, which only gets flipped when things take a turn for the worse, leaving you reeling for some kind of change.

=

You finally break under the pressure. The pressure building up the past year pretending to be strong finally throw under the bus. Your eyes turn to running facets, and unbearably pitiful sounds rip from your vocal cords against your will.

You can't hear him desperately calling out to you, trying to get you to calm you down. Finally he sees just how much pain he's unintentionally subjected you to over the years. He's panicking again, this time it's over you. You've toppled over, dragging him down to the floor with you.

".......! .....Y/N.......you're......!"

You can't make out anything that spewing from him right now. The familiar crimson eyes he'd seen before appear before him again and he's left staring once more with a look of pure terror. High pitched squeaks leave him in the place of words and it hurts to try to listen and decipher what he's actually saying.

".........! No! .........! ........ void!"

=

He knows what he's done at this point. He wants to blame his luck, but he knows it's his fault this time. With the roles reversed, he tries his best to get you to calm down or at least just look him in the eyes. He ended up having to call Yoruko, who ends up scolding him for being so blind to you and your feelings.

You didn't even know she was in the room until she placed a hand at your side. She was your friend by this point too, so her presence was comforting enough.

".........? .........hear me?"

She's gently pulling you up against her chest. Lightly waving her hand in front of your face to get your attention.

"Y/N? Hey, it's ok... Look at me."

Yuki is to your right grabbing ahold of your hand and rubbing small circles into your palm. By the time you calmed down you were left with a throbbing headache and him buried into your side, apologizing profusely as always.

=

After a little while, Yoruko had separated the two of you to talk. Yuki didn't want to cooperate with her, so she had to pry him off, take your hand, and escort you out of their earshot.

"It's only going to be for a few minutes, you can wait that long Yuki."

"But Y/N needs-!"

"No buts! I need to talk with them so that I can figure out why they broke down. If I'm correct, it has to do a lot with you, so it's best that you two are in different rooms for this."

"Yoruko-!"

"Let go of them Yuki."

=

"Well, this was not something I was expecting to experience. Being frantically begged over the phone by Yuki, hearing you break down in the background. I have no idea what's going on with you two."

"I just, snapped."

"What do you mean snapped?"

"I became so overwhelmed with having to be the strong one in the relationship, having to burry how I feel to save him from getting any worse. So overwhelmed with seeing him day after day breakdown over her, being unable to do anything to help him. He's still grieving for her, like she never left in the first place. I guess after so many years I'd hoped he'd accept it, but I still am reminded of his "most special person" everyday."

"That's understandable. No one is expecting you to take that pain in silence though. Why didn't you come see me or one of my associates to help you before it got this bad?"

"I was afraid to leave Yuki by himself. The times I have, I've found him in the middle of an episode on the floor. He had another one just this morning, and honestly I don't think it could get any worse for me."

"Any worse than unleashing years worth of emotions and scaring some of you closest friends?"

"At least he knows I can still feel something other than pity. He doesn't know just how much it hurts me knowing that he loves her more than he could ever love me. I get so numb just trying to love the both of them, and yet I'm still jealous of the one person that allowed me to meet him in the first place."

"Y/N, that's not true-"

"Yoruko, please, I can see in their eyes when she talks about her. He talks about her more than anyone else, hell he won't even talk about his 'big bro' anymore because it always leads back to what they did. He was saved by Sora so many times, and following in her shadow is one of the most painful things I've had to push myself through."

"Push yourself through? You don't have to stay here with him-"

"What am I supposed to do? I can't just leave! There'd be no one here to help him through another episode. As much as I hate just being some heart-broken hypocrite, I don't feel as there are any other options for me to stay. I still love them, to the point where it's killing me, but I choose to stay because it isn't "just her" to me. I want to know who I've been sleeping next to, not Sora."

"Y/N...have you told him any of this?"

"Every time I tried I would just back out. I didn't want to see them in anymore pain than they're already in."

"It's too late for that."

=

From the corner you spot Yuki, a heartbroken expression showing through her pitiful face. Those deluded eyes only working in his favor in a way that only made them look lifeless. Step by step they inch towards you.

"Yuki! I told you to stay in the other room!"

"You really think I would choose Sora over you if I got the chance to live normally?"

Yoruko put herself in between the two of you to keep things distant, but she was otherwise unneeded at the moment.

=

"If you had lived normally we would've never met..."

He didn't have a good retort for that, as it was a highly probable possibility he didn't want to think about.

"I just don't want to be some replacement of Sora for you."

"You were never a replacement! I know I talk about her a lot, to the point where it even gets Yoruko mad, but that's just because I miss her. She was one of my best friends! You mean so much to me, why can't you see that? I've shared everything with you.... I WAS NEVER IN LOVE WITH HER! It's only ever been you."

He attempted to get around Yoruko a few times before those words really set in for you. You had been misunderstanding the platonic feelings he had for his friend. A mix of guilt and relief washed over you in a way that could only be attained through this.

"Yoruko, it's fine."

"Y/N? Are you really sure about this?"

"While I'm not feeling any better about this, I can tell that this is worth working on. I did say I wouldn't give up on him after all."

"Well, I'm going to get going then. I really need to check up on some of my clients, plus I have a feeling you two need time alone right at the moment. Keep me in mind next time something bad happens?"

"We will."

=

He snaked around you the moment Yoruko let him free. The cycle starts all over again but you have a feeling that things will be different this time, as Yuki continues to spew you quiet "I love you" 's into the crook of your neck. It feels real this time. 'Yeah', you think to yourself. This time you'll make sure it's different.

Over time, you proved yourself to be right on that.

[soulbornincoldandrain]

tag game shenanigans huh [rubs hands] thanks @catmanbowser its been a while since ive thought about my blorbos of days past

10 character/ 10 fandoms (this is actually very interesting because ive never rlly though abt them? i kinda just frantically slide them into their slots in my brain so)

1. sebastian debeste/ ace attorney : who would i be without my emotional support lawyer of choice. while i have my favourites from the games i think seb deb remains on top for like. one his relationship with his dad (hngh) two his relationship with himself as a person, his sense of self esteem and how it is affected by his entitlement, his lack of awareness etcertera and three god his Design rlly gets to me for some reason i love the owlish eyes the hair the baton that's really only there because he's icky abt touching gruesome evidence like. girl he's my best friend he's Me

2. danny rand/ ultimate spider-man : transed my gender when i was thirteen. saw him on d*sney xd and i was never the same. iron fist animated ver did so much for me as a person he was my coolguy surfer-vibe snarky but kind prettyboy crush

3. peppermint patty/ peanuts : honestly its not like peanuts is like a revolutionary piece of work but it gets me every single motherfucking time man. peppermint patty is kind of an asshole but i love her character and also gay gay holy shit i was a small queer kid once and so is peppermint patty (also marcy schrodinger charlie ily beloveds)

4. murtagh morgansson (and nasuada!!)/ eragon (the inheritance cycle) : the tragedy of murtagh morgansson effectively changed me as a pre teen i enjoyed the entire series so much (don't talk to me about eragon and arya hngh) but murtaghs arc as a person filled me with so much love like he loved his brother!! he was chained to his blood father!! he loves his dragon!! he made difficult choices for them both despite everything!! even his romantic interest was so well done i genuinely loved him as a character and i still do (and yet i like nasuada more i just think murtaghs character had more weight in the story)

5. frederick the great knight/ fire emblem awakening : cannot explain how much i would've played the entire game all over just to romance frederick instead of my girlboss crown prince chrom i had such a Massive Raging crush on him it's not even funny

6. jung heewon/ orv : yeah okay ideally it would be dokja because he's the sort of parasite that's latched onto my brain but god. god. i never recovered from jung heewon as a character i never will recover. she loves her friends so deeply (as does the entirety of kim dokja company if we're being honest) but god she is so powerful in her love and i think it's ridiculous how much i love her favourite ever jihye x hyunsung x me are so right in having a massive crush on her hngghghh

7. michelangelo/ teenage mutant ninja turtles : ive only ever watched the cartoon series and that was like a solid six years ago but i wanted to be him so bad it was fucking hilarious. i thought he was coolest shit since sliced cheese. mikey my belovedsest hngh i loved donny too but mikey just has a special place in my heart

8. boss/ underworld office : THIS GAME OH GOD. think the only time i ever spoke about it was with shiro but oh God oh god this game got me so good and im still rusty on the names and such but boss as a character was so incredible and im a sucker for a good powerful character who is the looker after of their friend group but also Every Single One of those characters were so good and i literally cannot recommend that game enough the art animatics and story is so good hngh (ticket system kinda frustrating but i can forgive them for it dammit)

9. hannibal/ nbc hannibal : ideally the title should go to freddie lounds and frederick chilton for being my favourite characters of the show but because i have a deep intimate relationship with hamball i guess he takes first spot. i talk abt him way too much anyways so i refuse to elaborate. the elaboration is that i also sniff people. that is all.

10. jiro horikoshi/ wind rises : idk if he counts as a fictional character but miyazakis version of him was- and i cannot stress this enough- so incredibly gender. also i was fascinated by aeronautical design and engineering and also the vintage male fashion rlly got to me man. one of my favourite ghibli movies till date

and that's ten!! that's not all of them but boy i really fucking love to talk huh (also a lot of these were difficult because all my favourite characters are my favourites in context of other characters so many of these should've involved more than one character but whatever) anyways thanks so much for the tag cymber i hope i didn't ramble too much :]

[rhysismydaddy]

Casual Ruin Pt. 3 (Elriel)

Elain’s part of the Damnation Series.

Part 1 | Part 2

God help yall this shit was a rollercoaster to write

________________________________________________

~Elain~

For a second, no one breathes, let alone moves.

Azriel’s hands are steady as he grips the gun, body lined with tension, eyes so cold I shiver. The barrel’s close enough that if I leaned forward an inch, it’d brush my forehead.

The man next to him holds a cigarette halfway to his mouth, looking at me like he’s never seen a woman before and has absolutely no idea what to do. 

And me? I’m frozen in place, horror rushing through my veins and mixing with the shock to create a nauseating cocktail I’m not sure I’ll survive.

It’s the brutalized man in the chair slumping over and hitting the floor with a loud thud that finally snaps us out of our momentary haze.

Azriel blinks and throws the gun to the side so hard it makes a dent in the wall, the stranger drops his cigarette and reaches for me, and I sprint like my fucking life depends on it. Because at this point, I’m pretty sure it might.

What the hell did I walk into? 

I race up the stairs toward the garage, where less than a minute ago, I’d heard Azriel’s voice and gone to surprise him. By the look on his face when he turned around, I’d at least succeeded in that.

I can practically feel the man behind me, can tell he’s reaching a hand out to grab me.

I’ve never been a violent person in my life, but with the amount of adrenaline coursing through me, I don’t even question the urge to use the wine bottle in my hands as a weapon.

It breaks over the man’s head, but unlike in the movies, he doesn’t go down immediately. However, he does lose his balance enough that with a firm shove to his chest, he goes crashing back down to the hellhole I’m running from.

I make it to the garage and slam the door to the basement closed, locking it for good measure. Then I drag the heavy workbench next to the line of pristine cars over in front of it for even better measure. 

I refuse to let myself stop and think, because I’m pretty sure if I do, I’ll break down into a pool of tears and never get up. I’m running on nothing but adrenaline, and I know I’ll crash soon, but I force myself to keep going.

For a moment, I’m tempted to steal one of the cars to get away, but the sound of angry Italian shouts behind the locked door makes me hesitant to waste any more time.

I also definitely don’t have time to call the cab driver that dropped me off and beg him to come back.

The fear and terror don’t give me time to doubt myself as I take my heels off, take off up the driveway, and pray I’m fast enough to escape the devil on my trail.

~Azriel~

“Get that goddamn door open,” I shout at Luca, who’s dripping wine all over the place and has a gash on his forehead from where little Elain Archeron shoved him down the stairs.

I almost fucking shot her in the head. Her. 

Dolcezza mia. The girl I’m stupidly obsessed with. The one who’s always quick to smile--the same one who sighs when I kiss her and lights up when I walk into the room.

I almost shot her between those beautiful brown eyes, almost snuffed them out forever.

I run a hand over my face, listening to the sound of Luca throwing himself into the door repeatedly. “I’m trying, boss, but I think she pulled something in front of the door.”

Smart.

Fucking annoying as hell, but smart.

If I wasn’t so damn pissed at myself for not locking the basement door behind me and allowing her to find us down here, I’d be mildly impressed. 

Two of the most dangerous men in Italy, trapped in the basement like idiots. 

I pull up the app to track her phone--which was originally for her safety, not because I’m a complete stalker--and see that she’s on foot, going behind the houses instead of down the road. She probably thinks I’ll drive by her while she gets away right under my nose.

“Fuck,” I mutter, sending out a text to all my neighbors to tell them not to shoot the beautiful young woman trespassing through their properties. She has no idea the people around us have security systems better than the President’s. “Luca!”

“Working on it,” he grunts back.

“If that shit isn’t open in the next twenty seconds, you’re going in the incinerator after this asshole,” I warn, nudging the dead body on the floor with a boot.

The threat must work, because a second later, there’s a loud bang and the telltale sound of the workbench from my garage toppling over. “Got it!”

I storm up the stairs and tell him, “Run interference with the neighbors and local police. Anyone talks-”

“Got it,” he interrupts, grabbing his phone to start threatening people.

Pulling up the app again, I track the path she’s on, curse when I see she’s headed to the bus station about a mile from here, and take off after her.

Technically, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if she got away. She’d probably go to the police and tell them what she saw, not knowing that Marco, the deputy on duty, has been on my payroll since the day he passed the police entrance exam.

Having done her civic duty, she’d probably try to recover from the trauma of what she saw, eventually finish her classes and move on, and leave. Forgetting all about me in the process.

Technically, for her, this option would not be the worst thing in the world.

But in my head, it feels worse than being stabbed. In my head, there isn’t a question about it. 

I’m going after her. 

There’s this weird, itchy feeling in my chest I’ve never felt before as I run and run and try not to think about the look on her face as she saw the body fall to the floor.

I realize the feeling in my chest as panic, something I haven’t felt since I was a teenager getting booked for stealing my first car.

She knows.

She knows, and the look on her face... she looked at me like I’m a monster. 

And fuck, maybe that’s true. Maybe I am beyond saving.

But having her look at me, and having her take away the easy smiles and bright eyes I’d grown strangely accustomed to... it feels like being robbed.

And it makes me panic.

So I’ll chase her, and catch her, and do whatever I have to do to get her back. 

Because I need her, and damn if I’m going at this alone. 

After a surprising amount of time, I see the thin outline of her off in the distance, sprinting like the devil himself is chasing her. 

I take a deep breath and try to stay quiet, but it’s hopeless. Like she’s the one with the tracker on me, she can tell the second I’m close. I can see it from the way her shoulders go stiff and her pace increases.

“Elain!” 

I call out again for her to stop, because I don’t want to tackle her and risk hurting her. She ignores me and keeps running, turning behind the coroner of one of my dealer’s house. 

That sticky, awful, panicky feeling in my chest grows as she disappears from sight, and without thinking, I follow.

Which, if I had been thinking, I never would’ve done, because shit like this leaves you open to attack. 

Which reminds me: I’ve now broken all three rules for this woman, because I don’t have a single weapon on me to defend us if something happens.

I hit the ground hard enough the wind rushes out of me and my stupid brain rattles around in my stupid skull. 

Blinking through the blur, I look up to find Elain standing over me with an empty metal trashcan raised like a bat, ready to strike again. 

I need to explain, need to talk to her, but all I can seem to say is her name.

“Elain,” I croak, trying to force air down my lungs.

As my vision clears, I notice she’s crying, beautiful face streaked with tears and dirt. 

She pauses and looks at me, like the sight of me knocked on my ass hurts her just as much as it does me, then shakes her head to clear it. 

She throws the trash can at me and turns to flee, but I know I can’t let her go, at least not like this. Grabbing her ankle, I yank her down to me, making sure she lands on me instead of the ground. 

She screams, the sound scraping away another layer of the trust we’d built, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so desperate in my life. Elain flails around, but I use my weight to pin her, trying not to hurt her. 

She has to let me explain. She has to.

I hate what I’m about to do, but the only other option I have is making her pass out the old fashion way, which I know I could never bring myself to do.

The second the needle goes into her neck, she goes stiff underneath me, looking at me with wide, panicked eyes. 

“You drugged me,” she sobs, the betrayal in her voice making my chest hurt.

I brush the hair off her face, press my forehead to hers, and start telling her things I haven’t told another living soul.

I’ll never hurt you.

I’m sorry.

~Elain~

Am I dead?

Why does it feel like I got hit by a bus?

Where am I? 

These three questions rattle around in my brain at the same time, all demanding answers, as soon as I open my eyes. 

And the weird part is... I don’t have any.

I have no idea if I’m alive or dead, but the headache I have that seems permanently settled behind my eyes points to the latter.

I blink the haze in my brain away and realize I’m at my house in bed, but my extend of knowledge seems to stop there. 

There’s a voice in my head whispering something, but it’s too quiet for me to understand what she’s saying. All I know is that I feel like I need to do something, need to get out of here. 

I rub my sore eyes and see there’s a note on the bedside table, written in precise, calm handwriting I recognize better than my own. 

Come downstairs. 

He’s here? I thought I went to his house, not the other way around.

The blinds are closed, but when I make my way to the window and peak out, I see a dark night sky, the moon reflecting off the water and making everything seen calm.  

What the hell happened to me?

I start to leave the room, intent on going downstairs and asking Azriel that very question. 

Except as I’m passing by my closet, I see something. 

Something small and so inconsequential, I almost don’t think anything about it.

Like I’m in a dream, I feel myself walk over to the corner of the room. I feel my knees hit the floor, see my finger extend to the floor and touch the tiny drop of liquid that caught my eye.

I pull back and look, and somehow, I’m not surprised to see that it’s blood.

The floors are dark enough I shouldn’t have been able to see it from so far away, but it’s like a part of me was looking for it. 

And that’s when it comes back to me.

Coming to surprise him, seeing the door in his garage, going downstairs... I press a hand to my mouth and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fight the tidal wave of nausea washing over me. 

I remember seeing the blood first and wondering if someone was hurt, then coming further into the room to find myself in the middle of a nightmare. If I wasn’t so strangely sure it had been real, I would think it was a horror movie.

The man strapped down had been so brutalized, I doubt I would’ve recognized him even if I’d known him my whole life.

I remember running without a thought more, giving into the fight or flight impulse to get the hell out of there. 

I remember hitting Azriel, seeing him fall to the ground and looking up at me with those deep, wounded eyes that will haunt me more than the torture he inflicted on that poor man. 

Eyes that told me everything and nothing at the same time.

I remember looking into those eyes and crying at the pain in them that was surely reflected in my own. 

And then nothing. 

Why don’t I remember? How did I get back here?

I’m sorry. 

I finally recall that last whispered promise, and if I hadn’t already been sitting on the floor, I would’ve fallen to my knees as I realize what happened.

He drugged me.

Azriel, the same man who slow-danced with me in an empty restaurant and drove me along the coast and held me in his sleep, drugged me.

And he’s downstairs.

I start to hyperventilate, because I don’t know what to do or what he’s planning to do. Why is he still here?

What am I going to do? Should I call the cops?

I realize I don’t have my phone, probably a countermeasure on his part. 

I also realize there’s no way for me to run. I remember how fast he’d caught me, how easy it had been for him to render me useless. 

There’s no escaping him. Not if he’s already down there waiting, evil plan cooking in his mind.

I have no other option, unless I want to stay in this room for the rest of my life.

So with confidence I don’t feel, I walk downstairs. 

I find him sitting at my breakfast table, leaning back casually and sipping a cup of coffee despite the late hour. 

The moonlight clings to him like it loves him, playing off of his sharp cheekbones and illuminating his features. His face is carefully blank, but there’s a flicker of something as he looks at me, something that seems almost like relief. 

He’s calm and collected and everything I’m not, and it pisses me off. My world’s on fire, yet he’s sitting here like nothing’s wrong? And he’s drinking my coffee?

I stomp over to grab the stolen drink, then sit across from him and cross my arms. 

And wait.

Because I sure as hell am not talking first. 

He stayed because he has something to say. I don’t have anything to say to him. 

For a long time, we just stare at each other, because he’s apparently playing by the same rules. 

Then he accepts his defeat, sighs, and asks, “Why did you come to my house last night?”

I purse my lips, narrow my eyes, and try to stop myself from throwing the coffee in his face. 

Because he said that almost like an accusation. 

Like the problem is that I came over unannounced, not that he was torturing someone. 

“I’m not justifying that with a response,” I eventually tell him.

He gives me a hard look. “Answer the question.”

Something about the entirely male way he demanded that, like he expects a response immediately, makes me tilt my head and ask so sweetly I almost choke, “Why? Are you going to torture me if I don’t?”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, showing the first sign of imperfection I’ve ever seen from him. “What you saw-”

“Was horrifying, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

He acts like I didn’t even speak. “-was something I meant to keep private from you.”

I don’t tell him that’s pretty fucking obvious at this point. 

Instead I ask, “Why?” 

I’m not sure why I want to know, but it suddenly feels important. 

He doesn’t takes his eyes off of me as he says, “Because you’re you. You shine so brightly it should be illegal, and you look at the world like it isn’t a terrible place. I didn’t want to take that from you.”

My throat feels uncomfortably tight all the sudden, but I clear it and say, “Well, you did.”

His jaw clenches, and he looks down. “I know. If I could go back and walk away, I would. Shit, I told myself I would more times than I can count. But I just... couldn’t. And I couldn’t tell you either. I wanted to, but I didn’t know how, Elain.”

The sound of my name on his lips makes my heart finally start beating again, but I still call him on his lie. “That isn’t why you never told me. You never told me because you knew I’d hate you the second you did.”

“Maybe,” he admits, looking back up at me. “But now you know, and I’m glad you do. You know everything now.”

It’s my turn to look down, because while I’d wanted to know the real him, I’d never imagined I’d find something like this. 

“No, I don’t. I don’t know anything, because you haven’t explained anything.”

He tilts his head. “What needs explaining?”

I ask the obvious question. “Who do you work for?”

“Myself.”

Once again, I don’t feel like justifying that with a response. He still isn’t saying anything that explains what I saw or why he’d do that to someone. 

If he isn’t going to say anything meaningful, I’m not having this conversation.

Eventually, he seems to realize this. Because he says, “I’m Capo of the Sicilian Outfit of the Cosa Nostra, Elain.”

I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, trying to keep my emotions in check. I don’t know how to feel, other than confused and angry.

“Any other questions?”

“Why did you drug me?”

If he just wanted to talk, he could’ve dragged me back to his place or maybe just say that. Not chase me down like a rapid animal.

“You were panicked, and I didn’t want to hurt you. I needed time to explain, needed to tell you this was never the plan.”

There’s something else there, and I narrow my eyes in a silent demand for him to continue.

Azriel sighs and admits, “My neighbors are business associates-” aka fellow criminals, “and I didn’t want them to hear you yelling and come to... investigate-” aka kill me, “or watch me get knocked unconscious by a twenty-four year old woman with a trash can.”

I give him a smug smile, more than ready to give him a repeat of that show, and try to decide what else to ask. 

But before I get the chance, he says, “I don’t see why this changes anything.”

My mouth falls open.

He doesn’t see- is he serious? “You’re joking.”

“I’m not known for my humor.”

I’m still stunned into silence, so he tilts his head and asks, “Why does it matter? Why does what I do make me a different person?”

When I don’t answer, he says, “It doesn’t. Nothing I do will ever come near you. You won’t ever have to see it again. I promise.” 

“It’s not about seeing it! It’s about knowing what you do when we’re not together. You kiss me goodbye, then go home and... there is absolutely no way I can go back to what we were doing before. You killed someone, Azriel.”

He straightens his cufflinks and shoots back, “He deserved it, Elain.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I have a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

“First off, murder is illegal. So is torture, which from the way that man looked, you’d definitely been inflicting on him. Not only is it illegal, it’s wrong! He was an innocent human being-”

“He wasn’t innocent.”

I keep going. “You aren’t judge, jury, and executioner! You-”

He’s on me before I can finish, sliding a hand over my mouth and leaning over my chair. 

God, the man is fast. Has he always been that fast, or have I just never noticed?

“Let me explain something to you, Elain. On this island, I am. I decide who’s guilty, which he confessed to being. I decide the punishment, which was a bullet to the brain. I’m the executioner, and I pull the trigger myself, because I’m not a fucking coward.”

I fight his hold, trying to push him away, but he doesn’t even budge. 

“I play by different rules, bellissima. Just because you’ve never been exposed to them, or my world, doesn’t mean it hasn’t always existed. I’m the judge, jury, executioner, and the goddamn king.”

A shiver goes down my spine at his words. 

He pushes my head back, forcing me to meet his eyes. “And it doesn’t matter.”

I shake my head, bite his finger, push at his chest. But it doesn’t do any good.

“It doesn’t matter, because like I said, we live in two different worlds. I’d never let mine impact yours.”

I want to tell him that isn’t the problem, but his hand is still on my mouth. 

“Have you even asked yourself why you’re not afraid?” he asks out of the blue, surprising me. 

I stare blankly at him, no longer fighting, waiting for whatever he’s about to say.

“You’re scared of what I do, but you aren’t scared of me. Not really. If you were, you never would’ve come down those stairs.”

That’s why he looked relieved, I realize. He was worried I’d be scared of him.

Everything he’s saying makes sense, which makes no sense at all. 

Because if he’s right, and he certainly seems to think he is, it begs the question... why aren’t I scared of him?

He seems to see my ask myself that, because he answers it a second later.

Eyes growing softer, he murmurs, “It’s because you know I’d never hurt you, nor would I let anyone else.”

I remember him whispering that right before I passed out. I’ll never hurt you. 

He comes so close I can see the individual flecks of green in his dark hazel eyes. “I may do terrible things, and I’d do terrible things for you, Elain, but I’d never do them to you.”

“So you aren’t afraid. Just angry,” he concludes. Then he looks at me like he did the other day in the sea behind his house, right before he called me his. “Do you know why you’re angry, Elain?”

Currently, it’s because he’s explaining my emotions to me, which has to be the most male, obnoxious thing that’s ever happened in all of history.

But I have a feeling that isn’t what he’s talking about.

And I have another feeling that I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.

I take another glance at the look in his eyes and realize what he means, starting to fight again. I push at his chest and hands and try to get him to not say the words I know he’s going to. 

It doesn’t work. 

“You’re upset,” he says a moment later, slow and sure like always, “because I lied to you. You feel betrayed, like you don’t know me. But that isn’t why you’re angry.”

One hand on my face, the other in my hair, he holds me perfectly still as he whispers, “You’re angry because you were falling for me.”

I press my eyes closed, trying not to hear the words he’s saying as if that’ll make them any less true. 

But it doesn’t, because they are true. 

Every easy smile, midnight whisper, and lingering kiss he’s given me in the past month has given him a permanent place in my heart, and it hurts to have that all feel like a lie.

It hurts to look at him and not know if I recognize the person holding me.

A sob escapes me, which seems to confirm what he said, and he takes his hand off my mouth to wipe away a tear. 

His brow comes to rest against mine, and I breathe him in, unable to stop myself. 

There’s a war happening inside me, and it distracts me enough I don’t stop him from pulling me closer.

My heart plays me a montage of the past month, showing me countless moments where I’d been so positive I’d found paradise, so positive I’d found someone I could trust completely. It tells me Azriel has always felt like home, like something so inexplicably right I don’t even know how to describe it.

But my brain reminds me the hands cupping my cheeks softly are covered in blood and gunsmoke and victims’ tears. It tells me I’ve never really known the man I’m currently begging myself not to have feelings for. 

The battle inside of me rages on, and I cry harder, not even knowing who I want to win.

It only gets harder to choose as he murmurs, “Ance io mi sto innamorando di te.”

I’m falling for you, too.

I don’t know what to do or feel or think, and I’m so helplessly confused it makes me want to scream. 

Yet even though I’m confused, something about this makes sense. Something about knowing what he really does for a living makes everything in my head just click.

The way he’d redirect the conversation whenever I asked about his job. The way I’d always suspected him of hiding something about himself from me. The way every movement he’s ever made with me has been lined with restraint.

He could hurt me, has had the opportunity for months, but he never has. He’s always been careful with me, has always held and looked at me like I’m something precious to him.

My brain starts shifting to his side of the argument, and I can feel my morality ripping to shreds under his hands.

Before I can think, I shove him away, getting to my feet to point at the door. “Get out. You lied to me. You’re a murderer. A monster.”

Feelings or not, I know I can’t do this. I can’t just ignore what I saw, what he’ll continue to do. So he needs to leave.

He doesn’t.

Azriel just leans against the kitchen island counter and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it as he watches me for a long moment. 

“Maybe I am,” he says eventually around a mouthful of smoke. “But just because I’m a monster, Elain, doesn’t mean I can’t give you what we both know you need. Nothing has to change.”

It already has.

“I don’t need anything from you.”

“No?”

“No.”

He prowls toward me, the intent shining so clear in his eyes I take a step back for every one he takes forward. My back hits a wall, and he traps me between it and himself, caging me in with strong arms.

The line between right and wrong, good and evil, seems to blur as he gets closer and closer, and by the time we’re sharing air, I don’t know which way is up. All I know is him.

He takes a deep inhale of his cigarette, tips my head back with his thumb, and then breathes the smoke into my mouth. 

It should be disgusting, considering I don’t smoke and make it a point to avoid cancer-causing products in general. 

It should be. But it isn’t.

It’s the opposite of disgusting. 

There’s a buzz in my veins that has nothing to do with the nicotine, and I realize too late that he’s the vice I can’t quit. 

I’m too far gone, too addicted already.

He pulls back slightly, tucking the still-burning cigarette behind his ear. His eyes burn with intensity, and his dark hair and shoulders are surrounded by the smoke clinging to his shoulders like a shadow. 

He looks like the villain of a movie I never even knew I wanted to watch, and it physically pains me to have him this close and not be touching him, so I put my hands on his chest, fingers fisting in the expensive material of his suit.

His are on the wall by my head, bracing himself as he leans in and slowly licks a line across my lower lip, like he’s tasting me. 

My want for him is a tangible thing, and I have to ask myself if he’s right. Does it matter what he does, when he makes me feel like no one else ever has? Do I care enough to stay away from him?

“You don’t need me?” he asks again, so close his lips brush against mine.

I shake my head, even though I know it isn’t the truth. I do need him, and that’s why this hurts so damn bad. Why this betrayal cuts so deep.

Even though we’re so close he’s nothing but a blur, I can feel his eyes on me, burning a hole through me. 

And then he says something that changes everything. 

“Well, I need you,” he whispers, so softly it breaks my heart.

I’m lost.

I’m so goddamn lost in him, I forget everything we were talking about, forget everything he’s done. 

My knees go weak, and I cling to him, pulling him into me as I slip down the wall.

His lips crash against mine, and I know instantly that this is him. This is all of him. I finally know exactly who he is, and he doesn’t have to hide anymore.

It’s probably our hundredth kiss, but it feels like the first, and I’m drunk on it, drunk on him.

Hands in my hair, he kisses me like he wasn’t lying--like he needs me. 

My hands pull tighter, until there’s not an inch between us, and he makes a low sound in his throat. His are on my waist, gripping me tightly and telling me he wants this just as much as I do.

The restraint from before is all but gone, and I tremble at how much power is in his grasp, how small and fragile it makes me feel in comparison. 

My willpower crumples further, like a napkin in his fist, as his tongue teases mine, making me chase him for more.

Azriel pulls my lower lip between his teeth, pulling it between us as he draws back. It’ll be bruised tomorrow, but a sick part of me likes that he’s leaving his mark on me.

“Say it,” he say roughly, voice deep and scratchy with lust.

I don’t get a change to say it, or anything else, before he’s kissing me again, running his hands up my back and into my hair.

“Say it,” he demands again.

Maybe I’m not as lost as I thought, because I know what he wants but stay silent, refusing to give it to him.

Because I can’t.

Everything he said tonight makes sense, but I just... can’t.

He kisses me again, a lingering kiss that makes my chest ache, and almost pleads, “Say it, Elain. Say it doesn’t matter. Say you need me.”

The air grows thick as I stay silent, because it’s response enough.

His eyes narrow, and even though everything inside me begs me to, I don’t stop him as he steps away. 

“Only two more months here, and you want to spend them lying to yourself?”

I hadn’t even thought about the fact that I’m leaving so soon, but I don’t let myself get distracted. “I’m not lying to anyone.”

Except it feels like I am.

A smile pulls on his lips, but it isn’t friendly. “You’re fucking lying, and you know it. You know it doesn’t matter, you just can’t admit it, because then you’d be like me.”

Heart pounding, I shake my head, but he keeps going. “Fucking a monster would be condoning the devil’s work, right?”

He takes a step in, catching my wrists as I try to push him back, pinning them above my head, and laughing. 

“You saying you don’t want me is the most pathetic lie I’ve ever heard, carro. ”

“Azriel-”

Mouth next to my ear, he growls, “You’re really telling me if I slip my hand between your pretty thighs, I won’t find you wet and ready for me?”

I push against his hands and look away, all the confirmation he needs. 

He tsks, feigning disappointment. 

I close my eyes and fight my response to him with everything I have. I try to tell myself it matters, that what he does disgusts me, but it doesn’t sound believable to even myself at this point.

“I could prove it to you, make you come right here and now, but I don’t think I will.”

I’m breathing heavily, two seconds from passing out at the intensity and violence in his voice. 

“I think the next time I fuck you, Elain, you’re going to have to tell me you need me just as much as I need you. You’re going to tell me you want me, and you’re going to beg me for more.” He licks up the side of my neck, and I press my lips together to hold in the moan that wants to escape. “You’re going to tell the goddamn truth, and you’re going to fucking apologize for lying to me in the first place.”

I glare at him, silently conveying that that will never happen. He lied to me. I’m not apologizing for shit.

He sees that and everything else in my gaze, and he shakes his head slowly. 

“I’ll get your confession, Elain,” he promises, going to the door and almost ripping it off its hinges as he opens it. “I always do.”

___________________________________________________

Part 4

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