#man i just know i've forgotten something or over looked a huge point. oh well.

[hersweetrevenge]

corey cunningham x roger allen: relationship headcanons

i've become unreasonably invested in this pairing, and feel the need to explain myself lol. i think a relationship between corey and mr allen is fundamentally very complex and problematic, while also being an all american story of infidelity and youth.

WARNING for corey cunningham x mr allen, age gap relationship, smut, unprotected sex, infidelity/cheating, implied sex work, mildly implied child abuse (corey and his mom), murder, violence and child death. 3.8k word count.

pre-accident

their relationship is sort of like a subversion of the "lonely wife has an affair with the pool boy", but instead it's the "white collar husband has an affair with the boy who mows their lawn".

no matter how many times roger tells corey to call him roger, corey pretty much always says mr allen.

when corey first starts doing yard work, he put flyers (printed at the library) in the letterboxes through the nicer neighbourhoods in haddonfield.

joan is not happy about it. she wants corey at home, with her, always. but he's been getting a lot of big idead lately about college and independence and she is not happy. not one bit.

he meets the allens when they call the number he left and ask if he can come by at the weekend to talk about what he can help with.

corey got a crush first, almost as soon as he first met the allens, but roger was the one to instigate the affair, after a couple of months.

to begin with, roger thinks corey is a well-meaning but awkward kid, clearly not used to speaking to people that much. there's a sort of boyish confidence that comes through now and then, when he's talking about something he knows well. as time goes by roger starts to wonder -- when corey takes his shirt off in the heat, he must know what he's doing, right?

both of them are bisexual. roger experimented in college and was comfortable in his identity, but isn't really open about it since he got married. corey is still figuring himself out when the affair starts, but he's had a lot of crushes on both men, especially older men, and women.

[contrary to my original fic] i actually think corey was 20 when he starts working for the allens, while roger is in his mid 40s.

roger starts an affair for the classic, all american reason: his marriage has gotten boring. he wants an affair with someone younger and more exciting who will let him play out his fantasy of still being in his prime.

i don't think he has sinister or malicious intentions when he "seduces" corey. maybe he's just defending his own actions, but corey is an adult, if he didn't want to do anything then he wouldn't, right? corey clearly has a crush, right?

corey really, genuinely respects the allens' marriage.

not only does corey respect the allens as a couple (the ideal american marriage when compared with his mom and ronald), but he also really respects roger. i don't think (at that point) corey would "whore himself out" for a man he didn't respect.

deep down, corey is aware of how this all looks. he knows he's being a homewrecker.

but another part of him feels like he's doing something good. if roger was going to cheat, surely it's better that he does it with corey, than with someone else who doesn't care about his marriage.

another motivation for why corey gives in so easily is that his life is so controlled and there is so much pressure on him, he just wants an outlet to forget about everything. think gifted kid to dumbification kink pipeline.

he doesn't want to think about anything at all, and roger makes it so he doesn't have to. makes it so that his mind is empty and all he has to do is lie there and let himself feel good. it's an offer he won't can't pass up.

roger used to watch corey do yard work from the kitchen window, when he was at home. the sight made him stay home on the weekend a lot more.

even though a lot of their affair is based on convenience, roger can very much see how handsome corey is.

roger loves making corey laugh, because his laugh loud and childish. and he means it to, roger can tell he isn't faking.

mrs allen is rarely mentioned, beyond whether she is home or not, and where she is if she isn't home. both of them have a guilty conscience about her.

roger starts to wonder, is corey like this with everyone he works for? does he put on an elaborate act of "awkward, blushing virgin" -- is he actually sleeping with all the people he does yard work for? and he acts all innocent because he knows it gets people going?

corey understands he's being used. he knows this isn't a "relationship" and roger definitely isn't going to leave his family for him or anything like that, they're not going to be together, so he tells himself that he's just going to enjoy it while it lasts.

but in saying that, corey definitely fell in love a little bit.

corey's isn't your "classic" attention whore, but he is one all the same. he never had a dad and now this older man is showing him a lot of (special) attention? he'll do anything to keep it.

what can he say, he has some intense daddy issues. being wanted by an older man satiates that for a while.

plus it makes him feel like he has some control in his life. and makes him feel like an adult where he doesn't at home. it feels so grown up to have an affair.

roger doesn't know everything about corey's home life, but he thinks he understands, from what corey tells him when he's feeling vulnerable. he knows corey is lonely and stressed; a resentful momma's boy.

corey tells him about his college plans; he wants to be an engineer, wants to go to a school in chicago. if anything, roger feels an affection for him. he wants corey to find a better life for himself.

in all honesty, corey doesn't really know much about roger either. he sees him as this ideal family man, father figure and partner. he's so caught up in that, and so validated by his attention, that he forget he doesn't really know him. he knows one side of him.

roger still pays corey money for doing "yard work". corey does still do that, to keep up appearances, but he's less thorough than he used to be. they both know what the money is really for.

corey tells himself he doesn't care about the money. he needs it, but that's not what he's having this affair for.

he's selling himself (or letting himself be bought) for affection more than money.

subconsciously, it does mess him up a little bit though.

roger's thoughts about corey possibly putting on an act lose all their credit after the first few times they do anything. there's no way corey is faking this sort of earnest inexperience.

because corey is very nervous and shy at first. he's so inexperienced and he doesn't want to embarrass himself. mostly he just let's roger do whatever he wants to him.

they always have their trysts at the allen house.

at first it's at the weekend when corey is there to do the yard and mrs allen and jeremy aren't at home, but then roger starts inviting corey around more, still when mrs allen and jeremy are out (lucky for them, his wife and child have busy social lives).

roger starts finding more time to be at home when corey can be there, working from home when he can. think blow jobs while on a zoom meeting.

roger drinks heineken, pretty much all of their hook ups begin with them having a drink, even before corey hits 21.

corey's about to get a pavlov response to the sound of beer bottles clinking together.

the first few times, they only kiss. then it gets more hot and heavy, dry humping and grinding, a hand job here and there. roger teaches corey how to give head. he fingers him to get him used to the feeling because he's never done this before. they stay in the kitchen or on the couch.

the first time corey ever sucked dick, it took him a while to take it down all the way, even with roger guiding him through it.

his eyes water and roger wipes away the tears that spill over, his other hand always in his hair.

he gets good though, very good, even though he's nervous every time. roger secretly likes that nervous look, it's such a contrast to how he actually takes it like a champ. call him the king of sloppy toppy. and he always swallows.

the first time corey got a blow job he cried. just like he did with all of his other firsts. it's actually kind of rare that roger gives corey head. corey'd rather give than receive with oral, he thinks, but really roger is just kind of selfish.

roger took corey's virginity. sometimes he even feels guilty about it.

corey cried. he tried not to, he really did, but he couldn't help it. the stretch was more than he expected, even with a lot of prep and he'd never felt so full before.

("just the tip," roger had promised, to see if he could take it. it felt okay, corey had nodded to keep going but didn't realise how overwhelming it'd be)

roger pets his hair, kisses his temple, strokes his dick to try and and calm him down. it starts feeling good, really good and too much all at once.

condoms? never heard if them. it's not like roger can knock him up and they're both clean so roger never even suggests it.

corey loses his virginity in the allens' bed. after that, they pretty much always do it in the bedroom.

missionary is their usual position, though sometimes corey rides cowgirl because roger likes seeing him do all the work to get himself there.

roger doesn't really do dirty talk, corey seems too innocent for that sort of thing (in the beginning anyway). he does dole out the praise though.

"good boy" "you're so good for me" "you're taking me so well, look at you" "it's okay, i've got you"

their sex life is pretty vanilla to be honest. roger isn't into anything particularly kinky, and corey hasn't figured himself out that far yet.

the thrill of "we shouldn't be doing this" is enough.

while praise is the main thing corey likes, he's also into overstimulation (once he deals with the actually overwhelming aspect of the first few time), something like dumbification (without the more objectifying aspects), and he is more than willing to do a little bit of begging. roger tries a little bit of teasing degradation on occasion, but corey doesn't like it that much; he doesn't want to feel like he's doing something wrong or he isn't good enough.

the riskiest thing they ever did was have a quickie while jeremy was at home. corey was there to do the yard (and more), but jeremy is unexpectedly at home because his playdate got cancelled. jeremy is playing upstairs in his room and when corey comes back inside from the garden, mr allen corners him in the kitchen.

he nudges corey up onto the counter, a hand going down the front of his shorts.

corey whimpers and shakes his head, "jeremy's --"

"upstairs," mr allen finishes his sentence for him, "he won't be down for a while - kids and their computers- don't worry about it."

slowly corey starts to get more comfortable and confident during their escapades, he leans into what he knows roger wants. someone young and playful who can give him a run for his money, but who will always give in, in the end.

he starts having fun, like he's playing the role of someone more confident and sexy and teasing.

roger sometimes sends him upstairs to get ready while he grabs them some beers and locks the front door. corey does as he's told, stripping off and laying in mr allen's bed and when he walks in, corey smiles at the older man, legs spread wantonly, "see anything you like?"

roger is initially surprised at how malleable and easy corey is to manhandle when he wants to be. roger is taller by a few inches, but corey had broad shoulders and broad hips, he isn't waifish by any means. roger likes how boyishly masculine corey is.

corey is very, very good at keeping secrets. he's so used to his mom's snooping and meddling that he's perfected the art of hiding things from her. and really, who else is he going to tell?

the hardest part is hiding any marks on his skin. corey is carefully not to leave any on roger, but roger doesn't always extend the same courtesy.

joan has an annoying habit of just walking into corey's room, or even the bathroom while he's in the shower, without knocking to collect his washing or talk to him or interrogate him, so he has to be careful she doesn't see anything like a hickey ln his neck or bruises on his hips or else he'll never, ever hear the end of it.

corey is a stickler for punctuality. he is always home in time for dinner. there have been a few close calls where they lost track of time and corey needed to bike hard as hell to get home on time.

a random thing corey was unnecessarily embarrassed about was that he only wears tighty-whiteys, and not even a good brand, they are classic fruit of the loom. roger literally doesn't care, it's even kind of endearing. and the darker part of him gets a thrill out of it, knowing corey's mom still buys and probably washes his underwear while corey is here getting his brains fucked out.

speaking of that darker side of roger. he knows corey is an adult, capable of making his own decisions, but there's something about him being so dependent that does something to him.

[i'm not sure if i really believe they'd go this far, but i don't think it's out of the realm of possibility] roger takes corey out of town for a dirty weekend. corey lies to his mom, roger lies to theresa.

this dirty weekend is a turning point for their sex life.

with no time constraints, they go so many rounds they start losing count.

still nothing particularly wild, but things mrs allen wouldn't do.

corey already fulfilled one of those things for him, of course. theresa would never let him do anal.

the rest are more mundane things, like doggy style and wake up blow jobs and shower sex. even just the sense of free use that means they keep going and going and going.

corey isn't delusional (he swears he isn't), but he turns off his brain for the weekend and imagines this is his real life. with roger spending money like it was nothing, on a fancy as fuck hotel room and hundreds of dollars of room service, and having all the time in the world to laze around in bed watching movies and having zero expectations placed on him.

the boldest and hottest thing corey did on that trip was pull roger's wedding ring off with his teeth when he put his fingers in his mouth to get wet. even corey doesn't know what possessed him to do that, but the way roger practically fold him in half to fuck him afterwards, he's glad for the divine inspiration.

that is also the first time they literally sleep together after having sex, and they end up getting, perhaps dangerously, sentimental. corey just wants to be held and roger is much too gentle with him for someone who claims this is just a casual fling.

in corey's fantasies when he's alone in bed, he gets off on the forbidden nature of the affair, but it never really translates to their actual encounters.

he thinks about how he does things for mr allen that mrs allen wouldn't, thinks about saying it one day because he knows it'd drive roger crazy.

"i bet your wife doesn't feel this good, does she?" "she doesn't moan like i do" "she doesn't let you ruin her".

he'd never say any of that out loud, and it leads to some of his meaner and more delusional daydreams.

selfish. corey knows deep down that he's selfish. He doesn't want to think about mrs allen or jeremy, and he wants to be mr allen's one and only. he'd let mr allen do anything to him and he knows he'd love him so well if he got the chance.

but that is never going to happen, of course. corey knows that.

corey swings between those selfish daydreams and feeling guilty. mrs allen is really nice, he doesn't want to wreck her marriage. but is it really hurting anyone, if no one ever finds out?

the final time they fuck before the accident was on the weekend before halloween.

neither of them showed any indication of wanting to stop anytime soon. if it weren't for the accident, the affair could have gone on for months more, maybe even a year -- until corey went to college.

everything that weekend was normal, their usual routine. corey raked some leaves and then got railed.

if only they knew that would be their last time, maybe they could have savoured it.

roger is the one who suggests calling corey on halloween when their babysitter cancels on them. theresa is sceptical -- she doesn't know corey that well -- but roger makes a convincing case.

he knows corey is a good, responsible kid, and it's only for a few hours. he trusts corey.

post-accident

after the accident, they never speak. roger barely even says anything while they wait for the ambulance and the cops.

the trial is long and roger watches corey but they never interact beyond being in the same courtroom.

theresa had yelled at him outside the courthouse and roger had just held her, watching as ronald acted as a buffer between corey and anyone who tried to get close, mostly the press. he bundles him in the back of their car before they start the long drive back to warren county.

a horrible, selfish part of roger is relieved that corey never told anyone about the affair. no one who mattered anyway. he might of told his therapist, but nothing could would come of it now, he thinks.

as it happens, corey never did tell anyone. not his therapist, not the cops, certainly not his mother.

he doesn't think anyone would believe him, even if he did.

roger sees corey around town. a lot. sometimes he thinks about talking to him, but he holds steady. corey killed his son, he tells himself.

(jeremy's death is the penance he has to pay for his infidelity, he thinks)

corey takes the "break up" really hard. not only is he wracked with guilt over jeremy's death, but in a single moment, his relationship with roger is over. all that attention and affection and comfort, even just having someone to alleviate the physical need of getting off, is gone.

when mrs allen rips into him at the bar, corey's stomach drops thinking she might of found out about the affair in the years since. but no, she just hasn't forgiven him for killing her baby.

the first time they speak in four years is when roger picks corey up the morning after he meets michael.

corey isn't thinking clearly. something happened to him, something that changed everything.

roger hasn't spoken to him in years, but corey knows what he wants. it's the only thing he ever wanted from him.

he's resentful that roger tries to act like he doesn't want sex, then still feels resentful when it turns out he does.

where once corey had been shy and virginal, now he doesn't care. he's not been with anyone for a long time, something is happening to him that he doesn't understand and he wants, just for a while, to have something familiar. so he just lets himself let go.

part of him is trying to process his sudden and dangerous attraction to michael, by going back to his "first love", safe and familiar mr allen.

roger is meaner now. if corey can be -- bringing up theresa in the way he does -- then so can he. he's been through a lot. he deserves to take it out on corey, especially when corey is offering himself up.

it's rough and roger knows it must hurt, at least a little bit, but corey doesn't slow down.

when corey sleeps with allyson, he thinks about how different it is this way around. wonders if this is how it felt for mr allen when he fucked him.

post-michael

corey has absolutely nothing left to lose. a combination of stress and past trauma and an untreated concussion causes him to snap.

after killing those kids -- those fucking kids -- and that dj and his momma, and with michael in tow, he finds mr allen one more time.

(he begs michael to stay outside, he wants to do this one all on his own)

he knocks on the door, "can i talk to you?", roger lets him in, because what's the harm.

corey says everything he wishes he'd said before, that morning when mr allen picked him up and they fucked in that empty lot.

he screams and yells and blames everything on roger. getting more and more nonsensical as he goes on. working himself up to just do it --

"-- it's all your fault, everything that happened is because of you. you only asked me to babysit because you'd been fucking me behind your wife's back and you knew i'd drop everything to help you, you knew i'd do it and - and i did and then everything went wrong and - and it's your fault and you never fucking loved me, you never --"

roger thinks corey is having a mental breakdown (which in a way, he very much is)

so he just stands there and takes it, letting corey get out whatever he needs to before he can take him home to his mom or call the cops or whatever.

corey takes a deep breath and leans forward. pulls roger to him and kisses him. it's messy and desperate. corey's hands twisted in roger's shirt.

then, so much like that first kill, corey stabs him. the blood gushes over his hand and roger gasps like he's been winded.

corey doesn't break the kiss, though roger isn't even an active participant anymore. he pulls his hand back and stabs him again. and again. and again.

he only pulls away when roger crumples, unable to hold his own weight. blood pools around corey's feet on the cream carpet.

corey wipes the tears from his face that he didn't even notice had fallen and goes back outside to find michael.

[every-dayiwakeup]

The One Where Eddie Doesn't Die

TW: unedited, THAT scene rewritten, mentions of abuse and N*il ofc is his own 🚩🚩

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Munson?" Billy Hargrove bellows over the thumping and screeching of the bats. "Are you a fucking moron?"

Eddie, with the look of a scolded child on his narrow, paled face, tries to fight out of Billy's killer grip, punching weakly at his stupidly broad chest. "Not... a... moron."

"You were gonna cut that sheet." Billy's voice is quieter now, albeit a bit hoarse from all the yelling. "You were gonna die-"

"What do you care? Dude, you don't even know me!" Eddie snaps, and Billy doesn't loosen his hold on him, but Eddie doesn't feel restrained. He's still pissed, though. Who wouldn't be?

Hargrove had done nothing but send him death stares and chew gum with his mouth open since Eddie had met him.

"Oh? I think I do. I was a coward, too. My whole life. I was never a hero. A hero saves people. I couldn't save my mom, I couldn't make her stay."

Eddie stops struggling, and Billy's grip weakens to match his shaky tone. "My dad, he was a... mean son of a bitch. Like, really mean."

Eddie nods, tight lipped. He was never good at conversation that wasn't about Ozzy or Metallica.

"He started hitting me when I was seven. When I broke his mother's clay pot. Knocked it over by accident, of course. I told him I didn't mean it." Billy subconsciously covers his left eye, and Eddie looks, truly looks at Billy Hargrove, for the first time.

And he sees everything, even the sharp yet beautiful edges, because ugliness and Billy Hargrove could not ever exist in the same sentence.

A scared little boy, so hated by a world that did nothing but watch as he suffered. A dutiful son. A brother who would kill to protect his sister. A child who hadn't felt a loving touch in so long, he'd forgotten the very existence of such. Love? Hope? Foreign to him. And how could someone who was treated so horribly ever know that there was any other way, if it had never been shown to him?

He gulps, willing himself not to cry.

These were not his tears to shed, and he wasn't a bitch, but he couldn't deny it; he felt sorry for Billy Hargrove. Still, he had a burning question, and his lips were not meant to be zipped this long.

"Your dad was a dick, and I'm sorry. But what does that have to do with me? You literally just met me, man."

"And I clearly have more of a respect for your life than you do," Billy says, a dangerous edge starting to return to his voice.

Ouch. He took it back, Hargrove was a huge dick. Was he right about his pointed assessment? Spot fucking on. Didn't mean it didn't sting. "Fuck you, man. Fuck you!"

"I'll pass. You're not my type."

Eddie growls, shoving at Hargrove, who apparently consumes a steady diet of concrete and human suffering, because he doesn't move an inch. Bastard. "Why did you bother, then?"

"That didn't sound like a thank you."

"Well, I didn't ask for you to!"

Billy rolls his eyes, and turns to Henderson, the fire in his eyes smoldering into something akin to concern. "Dusty, kid, are you alright?"

Henderson nods, wiping his eyes. "I think I just shit myself, but I'm alright."

"Kid's a trooper," Billy says fondly, ruffling Henderson's mop of curls. "I hope Robin, Nancy, and... Steve are alright."

Eddie narrows his eyes in suspicion and a tad bit of... jealousy? No, annoyance. Definitely annoyance. He has finally met his match, and not in rock n' roll hell."You call them by their first names."

"Yeah. I respect them."

"Wow. You're a fucking dick."

"So I've been told."

"Answer my question, Hargrove, or I swear to God, I'm gonna go out there and-"

"What? Sacrifice yourself for a town that doesn't give a shit about you?"

Again, right on the money. Hargrove wasn't as stupid as Mike said he was. "You don't understand. I left C...Ch...Chrissy there. I saw her and I-I ran."

"Seems like a normal, appropriate reaction."

"Too normal for me," Eddie grumbles.

Billy frowns, and lets him sink into the mattress. "That instinct kept you alive. You made it this far."

"But that-that thing killed her! You didn't know, you didn't see-"

"The same fucker that killed your girl, he made me his bitch. Gave me these." Hargrove pulls up his shirt, revealing gnarly purple scars littering his upper torso. "Ugly, I know. They're the only scars that can never go away." Billy shakes his head like a wet dog, the same thing Eddie does when he wants to ward off pesky thoughts. "I thought I was ready... to you know... kick the bucket. Bleeding out, and all I thought was how... disappointed my mother would be. If she was there, waiting. The doctors said my heart stopped twice. That I wouldn't have made it... if it weren't for Steve and his band of Rugrats."

"Are you two just gonna sit on your asses or are you gonna help me?" Dustin huffs as he closes the last possible entry.

"Your screeching is gonna aggravate them, Henderson." Billy snickers as he ducks a soda can, and Dustin flips him off. Yet there's a clear connection between them, almost parental. Albeit, an unconventional father who definitely needed someone to reel him in at times.

Not that Eddie would know much about that.

"I didn't think I was worth fighting for. I didn't think I had anything to live for. Truthfully, I'd felt dead inside since my mom left. But it does get better. Granted, it takes time-"

"You're talking in circles, buddy."

Billy rolls his eyes, muttering, "Jesus fuckin' Christ" as he ties his matted curls into a sloppy bun. "You don't have to be the hero right now. This? This is a battle. Losing your life won't avenge Chrissy." His blue pupils switch from Henderson to a yellow sweater on the floor, dilating slightly. Harrington's sweater. "Your death won't help anyone. This is a war. So..." Billy holds out Eddie's makeshift trash lid shield, staring at him intensely, "are you gonna fight?"

Eddie takes the shield with a surprisingly steady hand, gripping the metal. His jaw sets in newfound determination. " 'Till the final countdown," he replies, and Billy half laughs, half groans.

"Good. Then don't pull that sacrificial bullshit, this isn't your time."

He smirks; he's starting to figure out the land mine that is Billy Hargrove. He'd even go as far as to say he'd like h-

Like annoying him, that is.

He gives Billy a mock salute, winking, and underneath the muck, he swears he sees a hint of redness on the blonde's freckled cheeks.

Oh, he's going to stay alive for a little longer. There are so many more people left to annoy.

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

31. Would you come back to me?

Prompt used- doing a pinky promise. This post have been inspired by one of @drarry-is-my-therapy recent reblog and one of @fqirycircle drawing, which is absolutely amazing. TW- ANGST | HURT/COMFORT | Harry's heart had always belonged to the boy by the lake.

" dad" Albus said as he watched his father cleaning off the used utensils

" yea " harry replied looking over his shoulder to his son sitting behind the kitchen table.

" I- I was talking with mom the other day and she told me something " Albus nervously said

" oh yeah, what'd she tell ?" Harry chuckled

" why you guy's really separated " Albus replied. Harry stopped dead for a moment looking blankly at the utensils until he resumed washing, not replying anything yet.

Once done, harry wiped off his hands over his apron, handing Albus the cold coffee he had just brewed, taking one for himself, he sat down in front of Albus with a curious smile.

" so what'd she tell you ?"

" well- she doesn't want me talking to you about these things but I- think I'm big enough to know these things now, don't you think ?" He nervously asked once again.

" well- albus I think you are " harry gave albus a friendly frown and with that Albus immediately loosened up, giving harry a genuine smile.

" so what did she tell you ?" He asked once again pointing Albus to drink his cold coffee.

" well- she told me- that you guys didn't love each other " Albus said

" I do love your mom Albus-"

" just not the same way, right ?" Albus asked. Biting the inside of his cheek harry deliberated whether he should actually let Albus know or not, until he did, knowing if he were where Albus was, he'd want to know too.

Harry nodded hesitantly.

" but you guys seemed to love each other so much? Like all the things you did, I mean i don't get it how could you just fall out of love you know ?" Albus asked a little irritated by the fact that his parents had actually fallen out of love. Harry is suddenly strongly reminded of a very Vivid situation, the situation he'd been so familiar with.

" Albus- I think what you're trying to say is that we Always cared for each other. We often confuse love with care. At much later part of our marriage, before separation we had almost forgotten what was it like to love each other and simply cared for one another" harry explained.

Albus clenched looking at his father, " so you're saying one day we eventually fall out of love ?"

" what- no- Albus, no that's not what happened- hell " harry immediately responded.

" then what happened ?" Albus aggressively asked

" it's- it's just more complicated than it seems Albus but I want you to know that love is real, alright. Just because your parents didn't work out doesn't mean love cannot exists, look at your uncle Ron and aunt Hermione, I've rarely ever seen love like that and hell I can't even tell you how much time they had spent crushing desperately over each other for years. We're sorry- really for setting such a bad example but we're not perfect, nobody is. It's simply is we couldn't make it work and we regret it " harry sighed pushing his hair back from falling over his face.

Albus shoulder slumped down a bits, staring at the water ring on his coaster absent mindedly.

" just say it albus. Don't keep it in " harry encouraged knowing his son was deliberating about saying something.

Albus looked up at harry strangely, a look he had never looked at him with ever before, " she said- that you- you've never truly loved her. She said even though you loved her but a part of your heart Always belonged to someone else "

And everything stopped. Harry's breath caught in his throat, his hand stilled in the air, even his hair on his forehead became still. He was shook Ginny had told him something like that. It wasn't as if harry wasn't ever prepared for such conversations but the way it had twisted into something, it was unpredictable and he found it hard to focus on one thing.

" is it true dad ? That you loved someone else too ?" Albus contemplated nervously.

Harry looked up at albus, not realising when had he ever leant down and cleared his throat to gain his voice back.

" I never cheated alb-"

" I know. She knows that but she says she knew that you Always have loved Someone else too " Albus bit his lip nervously hoping he hadn't offended harry by saying something so personal.

" i- I never thought she'd actually tell you this" harry eyes widened in surprise as he cleared his throat once again.

" w- I shouldn't have bought this up- this is just-"

" hey hey, it's fine- you said you're big enough to know these things now- well then " harry interjected nervously " she's right. I- my heart as she put it, one part of it has always belonged to someone else " harry sighed closing his eyes, glimpsing back in his memories of that one Particular person.

" oh- who ?" He asked curiously

Harry raised his eyebrows, chuckling nervously, not believing it even for a second that he is infact about have this conversation.

" someone" he finally replied.

And with that harry is brought back into his memories from years ago, that one person's laughter resonating in his head, that one smile which was only reserved for him, that voice which echoed in his head every night, as if it was calling harry to it but just as he reached the bottom, there would be another bottom and he would be stuck. Everyday. And as harry started to finally tell Albus about his first love, he flows into his memory of the last day of 5th year after harry had recently lost Sirius and was extremely vulnerable, around the black lake away from everyone, in just his own little bubble with him.

The lake reflected with the red and yellow light of the dropping sun from across the mountain and a faint breeze drying Harry's face covered with tears. He has someone's arms around his shoulder, cooing him, reminding him one day everything would finally be fine but he didn't had it in him to even understand what he was saying. He was crying, heavily breathing because of the heart clenching pain, the void in his heart which had finally filled had now grown bigger, how was anything ever supposed to be fine..

" we need to end this " harry abruptly said

" what ?" He asked confused by Harry's sudden outrage with something complete nuisance.

" we can't- I can't keep doing this " harry replied numbly

" wha- why not ?" He asked furrowing his eyebrows, feeling slightly hurt by such abysmal suggestion.

" don't you see, I lose everyone one day and I- I can't- I don't want to deliberately lose you " harry replied looking at him.

He frowned " you're not losing me harry-"

" then will I not ?" They had never talked about future, only because it remained so uncertain that they hated the idea of future

" no- you will not " he replied

" and you are absolutely 100 percent sure ? Isn't there a possibility someone would find out about us and it'll spread like a wildfire and everyone would desperately try to separate us !" Harry exclaimed

" okay harry- first calm down. Nobody have found out about us in the last one year, it seems highly unlikely someone would-"

" voldemort knows " and suddenly both of their breaths came to a halt. One word and everything they owned collapsed onto the ground as if it was the fragile chandelier hanging on the top of a broken roof.

" how-"

" he can see in my head. We can't keep doing this-"

" then we fight-"

" I'll fight- can you ?"

And there was silence. He wanted to respond that he would but he didn't trust the world, even if he trusted himself. He hated the world. He was weak, fragile and in a fight against the world, he knew he'd always lose, over and over.

" we are on opposite sides of war. Voldemort's came out. He'll be rebuilding his army. Everything is going to change. Even us" harry tried to explain without wanting to break down. This was the first time harry after sirius had sensibly talked but it was self preservation speaking for him, he couldn't afford to lose someone he really loves, once again. For once he wanted to protect his heart, he couldn't roll it over his sleeves when his sleeves were covered with thorns. It would be a death call and he couldn't give in, just yet.

" you and I- people like us don't belong together. The world will never understand us and this is the first fight we'd lose. I want this but it's going to be difficult. We can't be together as Long as we are on opposite sides-"

"Then I'll be on your side- "

" you are " harry responded giving a weak smile

" but I belong on the other side" he replied looking far ahead over the lake as if the realisation had finally dawned upon him. Something he had always known but had now slapped him right in the face.

"yes " harry replied looking at him, Saving in his memories the last time what he really looked like, his smile, his long lashes, his crooked nose, his pale skin, his tinted cheeks, his soft ears, his soft hair, his storm filled eyes, his pink plumped lips he had kissed so often. Saving it away for one day what it would look like in a pensieve.

" we knew what we were getting into but we took the risk nevertheless. It was a deranged path and we knew it from the beginning " harry softly said clutching other man's fingers with his own.

He didn't reply, he just longingly stared at the waters, as if he was remembering them not harry.

" so we give up ?" He finally asked turning to harry with unseen part of his face wet with tears. Harry reached forward wiping away his tear but they didn't stop, they only flooded more with Harry's touch.

" no, we- we promise to come back once again after all this is over" harry smiled softly.

" and you believe there will be coming back after all ? What if one of us- dies " he hesitated In fear of only imagining it.

Harry started at him knowing it was one of the possibilities but wasn't ready for such thing. It was a huge possibility that one day harry might lose " I have hope for us " harry suddenly spoke out loud. The thoughts In his mind had unknowningly reached his lips and there wasn't a going back from that.

The other man stared at harry long enough, he too concealing this part of him for that one day they'd meet again.

" promise me then if we make it through, we'll come back to each other " he asked, his voice sounding not more than a quivering sound.

" I promise that If I make it through one day, we'll meet again and come back to each other" harry replied

" pinky promise ?" He smiled.

Harry chuckled, then nodded

" do you promise ?"

" I promise "

" what happened then ? How'd you wind up with mom ?" Albus asked curiously, a faint yellow light from the evening bouncing over his brunette head.

" did he- die ?" Albus asked almost heart broken

" what- no " harry chuckled

" then what happened ?" Albus asked again

" he- broke the promise. We belonged to someone else much before we could've even belonged to each other. When I met him after the war and his probation, he had changed completely " harry replied reminiscing about the specific day

" then didn't you ever ask him again ?" Albus asked almost jumping off his chair.

Harry gave a small smile " I couldn't "

" but why- what if he had still loved you ?" Albus asked

" as I said he was completely changed. He wasn't the man I fell in love with. He never asked either. It died out over time. Besides I'm pretty sure he had already forgotten about it. Also I think he was engaged by the time we met again, it didn't make sense" harry replied

" then didn't you ever like try to stop his wedding like In those romantic comedies mum watches ?" Albus asked excitedly

Harry laughed picking up their glasses and going over to the sink " she's always loved them. You've got to stop watching them if that's what you're cooking in your head Albus. Real love Is different than what they show, it's not just one fight and making it up. Its so much efforts, fights, pain, drama and so many other things"

" but If it's the right person, it'd never feel like that would it ? If you really love someone then those fights wouldn't be so bad or there wouldn't be pain or drama. It'd be a happy relationship, wouldn't it ?" And in that small sentence albus has unknowningly managed to define true love.

Harry looked at his now grown up son, crossing his arms smiling impressively. And nodded.

Albus sighed in relief, slumping down in his chair. Harry quizzically analysed Albus until his expressions changed to sometimes brief.

" who is it?" Harry asked knowingly

" what?" Albus blushed

" who's this person you're suddenly relating everything to ?" Harry teased poking Albus Playfully.

" there is no one dad" Albus blushed embarassed, jumping off the chair, taking a few steps back.

" come on- I told you my story. I atleast deserve to know who it is " harry smirked crossing his arms in front of him

Albus sighed rolling his eyes" he's from school"

" ooh, someone from school. Like father like son" harry teased

" dadd " Albus whined blushing

" okay- fine, fine. Who is it then ?" Harry asked giving up with the teasing.

" it doesn't matter, he doesn't like me " Albus sighed crossing his arms in front of him in disappointment.

Harry carefully analysed Albus's face again, remembering exactly the same way he felt "it's the Malfoy kid, isn't it ?"

Albus's eyes suddenly shot up in surprise.

" how did you-"

" you're my son. Of course I'd know" harry sighed uncrossing his arms and stepping forward and placing them in the kitchen table, leaning forward.

" don't make the same mistakes I did. Ask him out. Write to him maybe. I'm sure he'd agree " harry suggested.

" mistake ? What mistake did you make ?" Albus asked curiously.

Harry gave him a firm smile before he putting his hands away from the table to his sides " it's a story for some other day, your mom is gonna be here to pick you up in an hour. Do your stuff and we'll talk about it next week? What say ?"

Albus frowned before letting go and nodding.

" one last question dad "

" shoot" harry said as he started washing those used cups again

" did you ever love mom as much as you loved that someone ?"

Harry smiled this time not stopping " I- love like that happened only once. I loved your mom a different way. I loved him a different way "

" but who'd you love more then?"

Harry turned around to see Albus standing there leaning over the kitchen table curiously " I will not answer that. Now enough with my love life. Go do your homework " harry said a little sternly in his father like adamant voice.

Sighing Albus gave up.

" okay, just one question, I promise " Albus plead again. Harry sighed before nodding.

" if now he came back in your life and asks you for a second chance, would you go back to him ?"

Harry smiled Shaking his head" yes- yes I would "

The next week when Albus came back for the stay, he seemed far excited than anything else. As soon as Ginny had left, Albus squealed.

" whoa there squirrel, what's got your knickers in a twist ?" Harry chuckled

" I've got an invitation. Can we please go to scropius's place. He offered for a while. I'll promise we can come back and do homework, he really wants me to see his collections. Can we please dad, please ?" Albus gave harry his puppy eyes in desperation..

Harry sighed before nodding.

" for an hour.. "

And with that after an hour, they flooed to scropius's place. The Malfoy manor.

They were recieved with a rather very pleasant place. It was no longer a dark, submerged place, it had been refurbished with mostly white and brown. It seemed like an entirely new place. Not one part of Malfoy manor looked like what it did ages ago ,and yet harry liked it better. It was welcoming. And just then he walked in, with scropius.

" potter "

" Malfoy" harry sternly nodded at Draco, losing himself again in that brief reminiscents of the past. He hadn't changed even a little bit as he remembered him from the day by the lake, yet everything had changed. Everything.

" we're gonna go " Albus didn't even wait and ran off with scropius, leaving harry and draco alone, both staring at each other thinking how the other had forgotten of the promise..

( I've really been writing shit lately. Anyways hope you liked this one, I'd been very excited for this one but It haven't turned out as good as I wanted to, so .. )

Requests open

Part 2 & 3

Day 30- scared, potter | Day 32- reasons not to be in love with Draco malfoy by Harry

[onlymexsarah]

Jealousy || Jesper Fahey

Request: "hey i saw your requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something with jesper? maybe with him being jealous of everyone that flirts with the reader or something like that lol, i just want jealous jesper. you are amazing btw i love your kaz’s stories!! <3"

Pairing: Jesper Fahey x reader

Warning: just flirt and my english :)

A/N: Thank you sweety! I'm so happy you liked it, and I hope you are gonna like this too! I'm sorry if it's short, but I have to admit I've never written something about Jepser nor I've never thought about him in that way, and it was a funny challenge, hope you'll appreciated what I've written❤

Working for Kaz Brekker meant that your life was in danger six days on seven when the luck was on your side, but that didn't stop you from having fun.

Not only you were part of the dregs, but you also were Nina's best friend, and that meant that no woman and no man had any chance to say no to you, not when you flirted with them.

It wasn't a secret that you loved fun, and just like Nina and Jesper you loved having people's eyes on you. Kaz knew that the three of you could easily flirt your way out from any trouble if needed to.

"Green or red?" you asked Nina with two dress in your hands.

"Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Definitely green." she answered without looking, she was too focus tailoring her makeup in the mirror.

From the high of his ruthlessly, Kaz Brekker had given to all of you the free night, and you had decided to go out with your friends and have fun.

"Still try to make Jesper admitting his feelings?" asked Nina while you brushed your hair.

"Jesper is Jesper, he flirts with everyone. If he doesn't a move, then there is an entire city that is waiting to do it." you said with more confident than you felt. Jesper Fahey was the boy who had fucked up your mind since the beginning, with his witty remarks and his flirty personality, you had fell for him as a kruge fell in Kaz's pocket.

You didn't want to have to go and console yourself with strangers, but at the same time you couldn't wait Jesper forever.

Nina chuckled helping you with your hair and then walking with you downstairs. "Let see if we can find a worthy partner for you, Y/n."

They reached Matthias and Jesper outside the Slat; you had the suspect that Inej would have stayed sat on Kaz's window all night keeping him company.

Matthias had to shut Jesper's mouth when you girls arrived. He was devouring you with his eyes and the Fjerdan couldn't hold a smirk.

Damn it. Did you plan to seduce all Ketterdam that night? Because he would easily surrender at you.

When you approached he composed himself. "I can't decide if you look amazing in that dress or if you'd look better without it."

He winked and saw a little blush on your cheek, but if you were shy you hid it very well with a sly smirk. "I guess you're gonna have to see yourself."

"It's a primise then." he said before the four of you started walking around the streets of Ketterdam.

Your relationship had always been like that. Jesper couldn't deny that his comments had become more true and spontaneous, he couldn't help it, and it was hilarious for the people around you, because it was oblivious how you both felt toward each other for everyone but you.

"Love, I don't think we can afford a table here." Matthias said to Nina once they stopped in front of one of the most fancy pub in Ketterdam.

"Leave me and Y/n deal with that." she winked taking your arm with hers and bringing you at the counter where the owner, a beautiful Kaelish woman, stood.

Jesper stayed at the door with Matthias looking you and Nina flirting with the woman. He saw how her eyes were on you while you giggled and smiled at her. He couldn't hear what you were saying, but it seemed that it was working because now the woman had her arms rested on the counter, her face close to yours.

"Hard, isn't it?" asked knowingly Matthias beside him. "See the girl you like flirting with someone else and obliviously being reciprocated."

"They are Nina and Y/N, they always do...that" Jepser said waving his hands in the air to point you girls. "You are the one who find it strange."

"Maybe you are right, but it's one of the things I love about her. But still, it's not a shame admitting you are jealous...I am too."

He didn't have time to answer that you and Nina arrived with two huge smiles on. I am not jealous. "Guess who has a table as a gift of the house?"

"We do, don't we?" asked Jesper excited.

"Yes! Come." you said taking his arm and bringing him at the table with Nina and Matthias behind you.

"You have to thanks Y/n, she did all the work. The owner couldn't take off her eyes from her as she talked." said Nina smirking as Jesper shifted on his seat.

"I was lucky she liked my accent." you waved your hand in the hand as it was nothing.

Nina chuckled. "More like she wanted to hear you moaning with your accent in her bedroom."

Jesper and Matthias choked themself with their drinks while you started laughing. "At least my beautiful accent gave us a table and free drinks."

You enjoyed the night, drinking and dancing. Jesper knew that people flirted with you everyday, but he thought that someone was pranking him that night. Every time he turned around someone was talking with you, making you giggle or blush. He was getting crazy.

Couldn't they just...walk away?

He moved closer to you at some point and took you into a conversation everytime he saw someone approaching.

You noticed that something annoyed Jesper, but you couldn't figure out what. You all were having fun, even if with your disbelief he hadn't danced with anyone but you. Was he ill?

"I'll go and take two drinks, stay here dove." he said in your ear walking away and disappearing behind the crowd.

You stayed there for while when a young man of few years older than you approached smiling. "You must be the star of the night because no one is shining like you."

You tried your best to not laugh. "And you must be in the wrong place, the circus in on the other side of the city."

"Ouch, pretty and quick-witten. A letal combination." he said amused.

You shrugged. "What can I say, Ketterdam made me."

You two kept talking about silly things keeping the flirt in the air. He was the one more eager, you were just waiting Jesper but the company of a pretty man wasn't bad at all.

You were laughing at one of his joke when an arm took your waist and squeezed you. "Piss off dude, she is with me."

You watched Jesper with widened eyes as he burned the man with his eyes.

"She didn't seem so to me." said the man annoyed.

"Well sorry to disappoint you. Now go away if you don't want trouble."

"Jesper!" you didn't know what was happening. You had been talking with people all night and he hadn't said a word, so why now was different?

"It's fine, I'll go." you and Jesper remained alone and he looked like nothing happened.

"Drink?" he said offering you one glass.

You shoke your head astonished and walked away toward the door. You needed fresh air and stay as far away as possible from him.

"Y/n!" you heard his voice behind you but you didn't care. What was wrong with him? He had never had such behaviour in none of your nights out. "Y/n wait!" He followed you outside, the drinks forgotten somewhere inside. "Tell me what's wrong."

"What was that?" you asked crossing your arm in front of your chest.

"What was what?" he said confused making you rolling your eyes.

"You were...rude. You had no reason to threat him like you did."

You could see in his eyes that he didn't know what to say. He looked for an good lie but it was hard under your inquisitors eyes. "Y-you were suppose to be with me!"

"So? That never stopped you from finding other partners." you raised an eyebrow obliviously.

He gave a quick look around, as if something could help him, but when his eyes fell on you again he knew he had to tell the true otherwise he could loose you.

"I was annoyed, alright? All those people flirting with you, saints I couldn't even turn around a moment that someone had already approached you." he agitated his hands in the air while you widened your eyes.

"Why should it bother you anyway?" you asked defensive.

He looked at you astonished, as if you were asking why the water was wet. "Because I like you! Hadn't been oblivious enough these past months?!" Now your mouth was a bit hopen, speechlees. He seemed to notice what he had said after few seconds. "Oh...it would be too late saying that it's not true, wouldn't it?"

You nodded quickly. "Yes, definitely too late."

"Well, you weren't suppose to find out like this. I had planned something like a date, maybe with some candles and a good view, but I guess that in front of a pub in the Barrel sounds fine too." he tried to joke shrugging while you were still processing his words.

"You are still in time, the night is not over for that date." you sounded casual but you couldn't hold your smile while you said it.

He looked at you surprised before smiling like a child. "Let's tell Nina and Matthias we are leaving then."

You walked inside the pub, both smiling like idiots, before you felt a hand on you wrist that turned you around and a pair of soft lips on yours. Jesper was kissing you while he kept you close with his right hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, and you didn't think twice about putting your hands behind his neck.

"I have to make sure no one will flirt with you again tonight." he said seductively with a smirk a few inches from your mouth making you blush.

[pixie-cocaine]

ATEEZ Reaction To: Catching them off-guard by being naked

Hii, I've noticed your requests are open. And i've been seeing your Ateez reactions recently, which are amazing. :D I just wondered, do you think you could do an Ateez reaction where their S.O. walks into the room naked while they are playing a game, working on music etc? (Kind of like that new Tik tok trend going around atm) x

Guuurl, sorry I waited so long to actually do something about this ask lol, but hopefully this will make you happy :)

Songs Listened To: X by CODE KUNST + LEE HI, FXXK It by BIGBANG, Dante’s Creek by THEY + DEAN, Baby Don’t Stop by NCT, Love Talk - Wayv, A Little Death by The Neighborhood

Hongjoong ♡:

• This man was straight vibing and your sneaky ass just HAD to do something

• “Joong.”

• “Yeah?” he didn’t look up from the small journal, with which he was jotting down lyrics for a future song he was to produce for

• He kept his eyes trained on the pages

• And uh-uh, that wouldn’t do 😤

• You rolled your eyes and waltzed over to the boy, putting a hand on the shoulder of the chair so you could swing him around to face you, an eyebrow raised

• “Look at me.”

• And he sure as hell did dafdsaffwq

• Face said :O

• Doesn’t matter how many times he sees your nude body, still looks like a kid in a candy store lol

• To say he was completely distracted would be a huge understatement

• Hanky panky in his mini studio? Yessir

Seonghwa ♡:

• Looking at this gif and listening to a slowed sexy song is gonna kill me istg

• Also, who let him act like a little hoe in their comeback? Keep your shirt down, mister, it’s not safe

• Gorl has nothing to do in his sparetime because he’s not too big of a gAMeR, but he does like to play phone games when he’s especially bored

• Would probably be playing like fuckin uhhhh candy crush or something when you said “lemme do sum a lil crazy 😌💅“

• You were kinda just curious to see what his reaction would be if you showed up witcha tiddies out

• So you got out the shower and half-assedly threw on a silk robe that Hwa got you for your birthday, not tying it or anything, but rather letting it slip off your damp shoulders while the front sat open and displayed your body for all to see

• His reaction when you leant against the doorframe and fake pouted?

• Immediate 📉

• Everday and night he’s gon chase you frfr

• “C’mere...,” He’d mumble, tossing his phone to the side 

• Level thirty-seven could wait ;)

Yunho ♡:

• Playing pc games at home is one of his favorite things to do (He’s even said so)

• PC games are his go-to when he gets bored of console

• So he’s constantly in his lil gaming room so that if you’re ever sleeping, he doesn’t wake you up

• He was on a multiuplayer session of Valorant when you decided to ruin his gaymer grind

• F in the chat boys

• “Yunho?”

• “Yes?” He stops his hastily typed directions to his game buddies in favor of giving you a quick glance from his chair, and has to look over again to make sure he's seeing things right

• Yeah, he was definitely seeing the pretty rise of your breasts and smoothness of your thighs, revealed from the towel now on the floor, right. Especially the way both of those lovely attributes were becoming larger as you approached him

• "W-woah!" He rushes to shield his eyes, though you only giggle and swivel his chair around in order to straddle him, removing his hands from his face

• "What? Am I too repulsive to?"

• "No! No it's just...," Yunho trails off, letting out a shaky breath and trying his best to not stare so obviously. Literally just paying attention at anything but what you wanted him to

• You only grin, tilting his chin to you face you head-on, "It's ok to look, baby. Don't be so shy"

• a forgotten game and heated chair sex is what would lead to your surprise

• kiss kiss for baby 😘

Yeosang ♡:

• We need more Yeosang gifs, this is ridiculous y'all ;(. Also, we're just... Not gonna talk about San on the side 💀

• Oh oh! And Yeosang getting bolder on stage is my favorite thing

• soooo snowboarding

• Yeosang said he likes to do that in his free time

• He'd just got a new custom board, which the front had lovely baby blue dripping forest face and the meaning of his name painted in black for the back, "Sound Resonating From A High Point."

• He was waxing it in the kitchen with it sat atop the island for easier space when he felt your arms slide around his waist, to which he smiled at, still continuing his work

• "Hello there," he mused

• "Baby, what would you do if I told you I was naked?"

• bitch hUH??

• He really did not waste time with turning in your hold and IMMEDIATELY looking down to see what you're wearing

• He chuckles upon , giving a cat whistle before bending down to set you on top of the counter

• "What's this for?"

• "Bored," you purse your lips, allowing yourself to lean back on your forearms as you spread your legs, "And you seemed like a good time-passer"

• Yeosang hums, falling to his knees easily enough and pulling you towards the edge of the island, then presses an affectionate kiss to your inner thigh

• "Fair enough"

San ♡:

• San likes to spiffy up on his English, which is still pretty hard for him even if you assure him that he's doing just fine when he speaks it around your family

• That being said, you'll sometimes catch him at the table with a textbook in front of him and a language journal by the side that he uses to write small romanizations

• You were particularly bored today. And damn, was San looking good with his messy black hair and shirtless torso. He never really did wear shirts around the house.

• "Sannie," You sang from the doorframe, fresh out of the shower and a bit sexually frustrated considering San hadn't touched you for a couple weeks due to your busy schedule

• He hummed in acknowledgement, jotting something down in the journal as he alternated between both the book and notebook

• You knew he was busy but his English really wasn't bad, so it didn't need to be now. It could wait a bit longer

• Sighing, you drop the towel from your body and fling it at San, which makes him jump and pull it from off of his head, looking towards you immediately and gasping

• You put a hand on your hip, giggling at how he tries to calm himself down

• lol goofy boy

• "C'mon, I know you're tired, I can help you relax," you gesture with a finger in a beckoning motion, and like he was already planning on it, he hops up from his seat and follows you back to the bedroom

• sorry if this was kinda boring lol, let's just San could have literally any reaction and frankly, this is probably the most tame he would be

Mingi ♡:

• Like Yunho in a lot of ways

• He does like to play games (probably PC, too), so you already know he'd be mashing that controller in the living room lol

• "Aww man, are you kidding me!?"

• Mingi gets shy, especially when it comes to you, so when you decided it'd be a good idea to step in front of the screen while he was playing Zelda with the towel around your body held open, he was a visual representation of keyboard mashing

• "Woah—Ohmygod-" [insert Minnie baby accidentally throwing his controller in his haste to cover his eyes]

• "You don't want me?" You ask, pouting and tilting your head

• His response is spreading two of the fingers across his eyes to peek, nodding his head frantically but trying to find the right words so he doesn't make you sad, "You just scared me is all! I don't wanna be rude by looking when you don't want me to or anything..."

• He takes his fingers away to hold them out instead, making grabby hands until you smile and crawl into them, in turn, climbing on top of his lap and letting him press his face into the valley between your breasts so he could kiss the skin there while looking at you

• "I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea," he mumbles, nuzzling his head farther down

• "No baby, you're fine," You reassure him with a hand ruffling the strands of his hair

• sweet hanky panky alert 🚨 sweet hanky panky alert 🚨

Wooyoung ♡:

• it's the large ass gif of Woo and his ponytail for me

• Oh and yeah, I know this doesn't quite fit theme of YOU walking in on them to flash your boobies but you're gonna keep your mouth shut and pretend it does 😏

• Another gamer.. damn this is getting repetitive

• hmmm

• Dance practice it is! 😃

• Woo doesn't like repeatedly practicing the same moves over and over again, but he did like the progress he made with each re-do, so he supposes he'll bear with the exhaustion

• Well.. obviously not now, because he's just walking through the bedroom door when he finally registers that you're sitting on the bed, lying on your stomach and scrolling through your phone with a leg raising your body go the side

• You snap your head to look at him, "Ah, there you are," you grin, pushing yourself up to a sitting position, "Thought you were gonna come home late again"

• Wooyoung let's out a snort as he closes the door behind him and drops his dance bag to the side, already taking his inky black hair out of the ponytail it was previously in and shaking it loose

• "What a nice surprise"

Jongho ♡:

• No thoughts, only buff babie

• And how he sung "sex in the morning baby" with a scary amount of aggression

• lol it makes sense that sweetie likes to play racing games on his computer

• LITerally so precious ;(

• Same trope (yes I'm a disappointment); Jongie plopped onto his lil chair with a fluffy blanket around his shoulders and headphones on that cute little head of his

• He said "I love playing car games, vroom vroom y'all 😤"

• And you said "I love playing surprise games, yes yes 😈"

• Gorl, when I tell you he squeaked out of surprise at how you turned his chair around to face you ;(

• "Uhh... Am I- Am I supposed to be looking?" He stammers, eyebrows raised and eyes locked on your bare front

• "By all means, baby," you purr, shaking your head with a familiar fondness at the boy in awe before you

• Just like Joong, he never tires of seeing you naked. He loves looking at you when you're nude, because it's when he can appreciate all aspects of you

• "Hang on, let me pause the game, I'll meet you in the bedroom"

• Getting intimate with Jongho is quite easy. He'll pretty much always say yes to sex, and it's pretty casual when you hint at it

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

coming home.

DIN DJARIN.

STAR WARS. ┃ USEFUL LINKS.

❝ summary: AU where din took the throne to rule mandalore. after a hunting, he comes back home.

❝ words: about 1k.

❝ a / n: as always, don’t forget to comment and reblog if you liked it!

“Crux, use your strength. Don't be afraid of hurting me”.

“But moth—”.

“If you want to wear beskar one day, you have to fight for it”.

The training room is empty, exclusively hosting you and your eight-year-old little warrior. Your words are concise and firm, echoing around the huge large words of the place. People say you’re too exigent with your son, but he’s the future. On his hands is Mandalore’s future. Spinning both wooden clubs between your fingers, you cross them at the height of your abdomen to block his attack when he thinks you’re off guard, grunting exasperatedly for your defense. The two of you have lost track of time, having started the session when the sun hadn’t risen yet and now is shining above the planet.

Barely breathing, you take an instant to study his next move. You know him better than anyone. If his left leg goes forward, you’re conscious your son will try to attack your ribs. If it’s his right leg, he will hit your ankles to make you stumble to the floor. But finally, he understands that he has two hands to use in different ways, directions and times. And that takes you by surprise as his left stick slides between your abdomen and your wooden clubs, pushing it to the front, breaking your fort whilst giving you his back. The strength your son uses to place the right stick against your back and pull you over his, making you twist over his body and throw you to the floor is what really amazes you though. Before you can react, Crux is pointing at you with his weapons. Although you would have yours close in a battlefield, you’d be already dead.

It’s the first time he beats you in two years of training and, even if he has won, your son is still on guard in case you try to attack him again. Until you break in a triumphant laugh sitting up on your forearms, closing your eyes for a second. The pride you feel swelling up your chest and wrapping your heart is indescribable. He begins to chuckle too, holding both wooden clubs in a hand to help you to get up. You can’t help but hug him tightly, pressing your lips on top of his head as he surrounds you with his free arm.

“You are like your fa—”.

“Father!”

You can’t finish your compliment. Your son throws away the sticks, loosening the grip, to run as fast as he can towards the man standing close to the door. Crux practically jumps onto his arms and the Mandalorian doesn’t doubt holding him against his armor, stretching it tenderly.

“You have done it well, son”.

“Have you seen it?” He questions enthused, leaning back to look at the visor of his father’s helmet.

“Keep working hard and the galaxy will be yours”. Din nods his head prior to resting his brow against his son’s. A connection with him your husband loves. “Now, leave to take a bath. I will join you later”.

Crux accepts without refusing, putting himself down and abandoning the place. As the huge doors are closed, you lead your steps to your husband, still trying to recover your breath with a sweet grin decorating your lips. It's been almost two weeks since he left to continue with the recruitment for the Mandalorian's ranks. You raise your hands to his helmet, where his cheeks are, with the clear intention of removing it but Din stops you. Not everyone is allowed to see his face and the training room is a public place, more or less.

“No one comes in when I'm here. And the guardians are watching the entry. It's okay”. You whisper using a honeyed tone of voice.

He slides his fingers down your wrists in a soft caress —you can't perceive the gesture on him yet, but he's showing you how much he has missed you. Your warm skin, your presence, your voice. Lifting the helmet as your smile broadens when your orbs can finally look at his darkest ones, you study the already closed and somewhat old wounds on the bridge of his nose and his right cheek. Seems like he has had to fight, although now he tries to avoid close-combat.

“You look surprised, my riduur”. Din scoffs, grabbing the protection to leave it on the floor, standing up to face you again.

“I was expecting something worse”. You simply affirm.

A titter scapes your lips when he approaches with his puckered, embracing your back with his arms covered by the rough fabric of his clothes. The mix of his strong scent with the smell of smoke and leather dizzies you at the moment you sink your nose in his neck. Oh, you have missed him too. More than you can express with words. Closing your eyes just like he does, the whole galaxy feels emptied for you, as if the two of you are the only living creatures in it. Everything was easier when you used to travel with him. Now, every time Din leaves your planet, your heart goes with him. You can barely sleep, spending your time on the balcony of your bedchamber waiting for his ship to appear from nowhere. During the daytime, you keep your mind off —training and ruling.

“I've thought of you, cyar'ika. Have you thought of me?”

For a second, your husband sounds worried if you have forgotten him. That's his main concern when he has to leave your side, that one day you can get tired of waiting for him, that one day you can find someone who loves you more and better. But that only would happen when all the stars fade, symbolizing your last breath.

You reply with gestures instead of your vocal, holding his face onto your arms to lean on your tiptoes and put your lips on his. A silky and delicate kiss that causes him goosebumps under the armor, racing his pulse and stealing him a soft pleased purr. Din closes his arms around you, tauten the grip to not let a single inch distance the two of you again. The kiss becomes wilder and needed for a brief second when your tongues find each other outside your lips, earning the battle by pushing yours into your mouth. Heavily breathing through your nostrils, you entangle your fingers in his dark brown hair, scared of him disappearing one more time for the-constellations-know how long.

“Any time I see a shooting star, I wish for you to still love me”. You speak shameless, always remaining the truth among both, not keeping a secret from him.

Din can't help but click his tongue, brushing your lips, without opening his eyes yet. “When I follow my heart, it leads me to you. This is my way”.

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @katsav17 @skits90s @wildsould1221 @littlekittymeow @tenderclio

STAR WARS: @purrrrfect @nikkixostan @lozaa94 @arana-alpha @lucillewinchester @mariska0610 @fanofalltheficsx @cjbtw @goldielocks2004 @spideysimpossiblegirl @im-an-adult-ish @nocturnalherb16 @smollpinkgirl

din djarin: @agirllovespancakes

[heresathreebee]

Brackish and Briny Waters (five)

[Ralph Lamont x Female Reader]

Summary: Ralph apologizes and you've got baby brains, but sometimes life does nothing but kick you down. Previous Masterlist Next

Tag(s): 16+ | 1.7k words | more angst, baby fever, alcoholism, ghostly vibes

AN: GODDAMN Part 5 took me a lifetime to finish. As always no beta readers just poorly side eyeing this by myself and hoping it makes sense

THE NEXT MORNING

You barely stir when you hear the door open. You've all but forgotten last night, and yet you flinch when Ralphie tries to cuddle with you. He sighs somewhere near your ear and hugs you from behind anyways, lips brushing the nape of your neck and breath fanning over your back as he simply lies there, quiet as the grave. 

There's no bruise but you can still feel his hand gripping your arm from last night. "You're being a huge dick…" 

"... I know." 

That is not good enough. You roll over to face him and watch his face twist when he notices the tract marks of dry tears on your face. He swallows and almost unconsciously takes your hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of your palm in a way that was meant to comfort him rather than you. 

"I'm sorry." He opens his mouth again but he flounders for words. After a deep breath he continues. "We can't call Reagan. Because he won't do anything for us…" 

You wait impatiently for him to explain. 

"Sweetheart, if we called Reagan last night, he would have fucking laughed at us. It is step one down that slippery slope to the couple who cried wolf." He put a hand on your shoulder and looked you in the eye, "do you really think he would have done something?" 

You think about it. If Ralph hadn't stopped you from calling him, what would you have said to Reagan? 

I smelled exhaust fumes. Not an emergency, he would say. 

I think he found us. What do you want me to do about it, too late now, he would ask.  

We're in danger. I'll send a squad upstate, they should be there in 4 hours, he would joke. 

"It was real," you insist. "I smelled fumes." 

"I know. I believe you." 

You squint at him threateningly and he doesn't give an inch. He doesn't seem like he's mocking you. 

Ralph could be an asshole, but Reagan was infinitely worse. At least one of them gave a shit about your safety. The realization Ralph was right scared you more than anything. You were alone in this… 

Well, alone together. 

You sigh and bury your face in his neck. Your hair is tangled as shit and probably tickling his face, but your husband simply wraps you up in a tight embrace and holds you against him. It's all the apology you need. 

END OF THE FIRST MONTH

Adjusting to your new life hit you like a sack of bricks early on a Monday morning. You woke up from a dream where you still lived in your tiny little apartment two minutes walk from everything. In a reality which felt more like a fever dream, Ralph was late for work, donning a tie and tweed jacket and kissing you goodbye for the day. 

You never realized how much space there was in the new master bedroom. In the apartment, a queen sized bed nearly touched the walls and barely left room to creep around two night stands and a dresser, but in the new house you had room to lay on the floor and stretch, maybe put another piece of furniture in here like a bookshelf or something. 

And the whole damn house was like that. You had an entire second floor to claim as your own! There is almost too much space… too much space for just the two of you. 

God there's that thought again drifting into your mind unbidden, unfurling like a fern at the first droplet of sunshine. How many people does it take to turn a house into a home? Three should be plenty, your mind offers. 

You busy yourself with measurements, regrouting the loose tiles in the kitchen floor, and scrubbing the blackened hell out of that downstairs bathroom. It seems to come to life beneath your hands and you can feel yourself getting excited to show guests the improvement. 

The thoughts of turning your little twosome family into three persist over and over until you can't stand it any longer. Maybe it's finally time… 

Ralph's late getting home by 5 minutes instead of 5 hours but he still looks tired. No mud tracks on his pants or hard set eyes. He's halfway up the stairs before you realize he's probably going to bed early. 

"Hey!" 

Ralph stops like it pains him. His head sags and his hold on the railing is tight like he'll fall if he lets go. The way he's wobbling he might. He is barely able to meet your eyes as he glances over his shoulder and when he does he simply grunts. 

"I made dinner," you squeeze your hands together behind your back, "angel hair pasta and that sauce you love." 

Ralph's eyes flicker in thought. "Be down in a second." 

You wait nervously to see if he does come down. What if this is a bad idea? What if he doesn't take you seriously? Oh god what if he hates it, what if he calls you an idiot for even considering it? 

Ralph does come back downstairs, hair wild from running his fingers through it. He seems to gain a small amount of energy while eating, not wanting to talk himself but asking how your day has been going. 

You're definitely rambling right now. Ralph listens and listens, chuckling along but at some point he grows concerned and envelopes your hand with a worried expression on his face. "Jesus, I've never heard so many words come out of your mouth at once, it's like you're writing a dissertation over there. Are you OK, baby?" 

You snap your mouth shut. God, you hadn't even come close to talk about kids for all your rambling. And then there was that weird smell… 

Your blood runs cold as you recognize it. You lean a little closer to Ralph and he almost instinctively flinches away. If there's one thing you are sure of, one thing you could swear on god– Ralph Lamont has never flinched away from a kiss before. So he has something to hide. And that something has a sharp scent and explains his slow reactions and tired eyes better than anything else could. 

"Have you… have you been drinking?" 

It's the way he can't meet your eyes when you ask him. You know. It's beyond out of character, so much so that it's confusing and a little frightening for you. 

A little drink here and there is, to you, to be expected especially considering the wealth of your new company. So why hide it? Is there something else he's not telling you?

You suddenly feel sick and too hot, ripping your hand away from his and getting up to leave the table. 

He knows you get in your head sometimes and practically yells your name to stop you. "I'm… I don't know why I…" 

Ralph sighs and buries his face into his hands, ashamed. All this suspense is twisting knots in your stomach. You sit back down gingerly, taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. 

"Ralph," you warn, "you had better start explaining yourself right now before I lose it." 

Ralph stares a hole into the table and worries his lip. The truth is he doesn't know what to say because he doesn't know why he did it. The students are easy, you are easy. Even in the toughest of times, at his lowest, he didn't drink so… what the fuck was coming over him?, he asked himself. 

Something clicked. It rolled like fire in his belly given dry wood, smoking curling to the top of his throat and out of his ears. "They hate me." 

"Who? Who hates you?" 

"Everyone." 

You looked him in the eye for the first time tonight and saw something dark looking in there. It makes you uneasy. "What makes you think they hate you, baby?" 

Ralph's grip on his fork tightens until his knuckles are white before he gingerly sets the dishware down and deflates. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a sardonic grin. 

"You wouldn't understand… and how could you? You never leave the house." He looks at you and there's a growing instability rising in his movements. "You… you don't see it. It started out as little nothings that I could ignore because it didn't matter that they didn't like me: I was new.  

"Then it became lots of these little nothings. Staring and whispering and hushed silences. Tip toeing language and poking and prodding and testing me and my limits and it just… it just… it never got better…" 

Rumors. It dawned on you that his frustration seemed intimately familiar to you as you had had to change schools once or twice due to a few terrible rumors that snowballed and got way out of hand. And you can imagine the sort of rumors that accompany a man with little interest in making friends who has a wife nobody knows anything about. 

If you wanted to stay here long, you would need to change a few minds. You set aside your fear for a moment and make him look at you. You can see the unshed tears in his eyes and feel pity for him. 

"I want to do that dinner party," you announce. "With all that's gone on, you probably didn't have the grand introduction you deserve. Let me show them how much you mean to me." 

Ralph's shaking his head but he already knows you'll win this fight. For him it feels like begging for something he doesn't even want. He agrees because he already promised you could when you were ready and you needed to find new friends asap. 

His sleep that night is fitful and the room's shadows seem to reach out like claws seeking his immortal soul. When the haze of whiskey finally dies down in his system he sleeps dreamless and wakes to feel somehow more hollow with despair than before. 

Ralph Lamont has the distinct feeling things are going to get a hell of a lot worse before anything gets better…

@werwulfy @fundamentally-lazy @escape-your-grape @mimiscappinisideblog @go-commander-kim

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, recreational drinking

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 2

Part 1

"It's a cruel, cruel world to face on your own,

A heavy cross to carry along..."

Heavy Cross - The Gossip

He's not coming. I took a deep breath in. I knew this would happen. Why did I believe for a second that he was going to show up? He was only 5 mins late, and he could just be parking his car. I was sure he said he was getting an Uber.

No, he was late, it's the first date, and he seemed like the kind of guy who is 10 minutes early for everything. His watch could be slow, and he thinks he is on time. Except everybody has a smartphone, so everyone knows the correct time.

Why wouldn't he message to say he was late? He had messaged me to say he would call late last week. If you're the type of guy who messages someone when you're going to call them 10 minutes late, surely you'd message if you were late to actually meet them.

Damn him. He's the one who pushed for a date. After nearly three months of chatting online, texting, calling, he finally wore me down. Then he doesn't show up? Dick move.

I looked around the pub again, hoping to see him come in. The pub was dark but not unpleasant. It wasn't very crowded for a Friday night. It was the kind of place you dropped into, have a few quiet ones, and head out somewhere else.

I was the only person sitting at the bar. The bar runners smelled faintly of stale beer, earthy and sweet. I breathed the smell in, letting it soothe my nerves.

Three 20-something women were sitting at a table. A group of four guys were sitting at another not far away. Each group kept eying the other off, the girls exploding into giggles when the guys looked at them. I rolled my eyes, willing the guys to get off their arses and talk to them.

I looked over to two guys in their 40s drinking wine. They seemed so in love sitting there playing with each other's hands. I could see them playing footsie with each other under the table. One of them caught my eye. Sprung. I smiled briefly and looked away.

I jumped as the shrill ring of the pokie machines spilled out of the gaming room. I needed to calm down. I took a drink from my vodka. I wanted a cigarette.

I rechecked my outfit. I shouldn't have worn a white skirt. I don't know what I was thinking. Looking down, I noticed a bit of my bra was visible. I pulled my baby blue singlet up. I should have worn jeans and a t-shirt. Wasn't dressing like this false advertising?

The shirt felt tight. I sat up straight and checked for fat rolls. Then I slouched and checked again. Nope, not a good look. I ran my hand over my hair, checking to make sure it's still neat. It didn't feel frizzy. I put a stray curl behind my ear.

I looked at my phone again. No messages. Maybe...

"Hello, excuse me," a voice from the stool next to me said. I flinched. That was Will's silvery voice. I smiled, relief easing over me.

Turning around, my smile faltered. That's not Will.

The man sitting next to me was living proof God had favourites. He had dark curly hair, a bit long on the top but short on the sides. He had blue, almost green eyes framed by thick, dark eyelashes. Coarse stubble covered but didn't hide his strong jaw and dimpled chin. He was an Adonis. A Hellenic God brought to life.

I wanted to run a finger along his jaw, feeling his skin and prickly hair. I shivered.

"Sorry, I just saw your phone cover, and I wondered if you could help me? I'm sure I've seen that symbol before. What's it's from?"

Simultaneously, my jaw dropped, and I tried to swallow. I made a strangled noise from my throat and started to cough. I grabbed at my drink and took a huge gulp, regretting it instantly as the vodka and bitter soda caught me off guard. I managed not to spit it out, barely.

The Adonis patted me on the back as I choked. "Are you ok?" he asked.

He wasn't from around here, English like Will. But Will doesn't look like this guy. The Adonis was looking at me, his eyebrows coming together. Oh yeah, he asked me something.

"Uh," I cleared my throat. "Ah, it's the Allomantic table of elements from Mistborn," I explained.

He smiled. I giggled. I. Fucking. Giggled. I felt the heat in my cheeks.

Still smiling, Adonis raised an eyebrow. "That's where I know it from. They are great books. Have you read other Brandon Sanderson?"

He was built like a rugby player. His shoulders were broad, and he had thick thighs. I could see the definition of his muscles through his dark denim jeans. He was wearing a light grey knitted jumper. It was so light and thin that it clung to his chest and tufts of dark hair poked out the top. He had pushed his sleeves up, exposing his forearms which were, like every part of him it seemed, toned and defined. Everything about this guy screamed masculinity.

He was very likely out of my league. Although he looked around his late 30s, guys who look like him are after 22-year-olds, not girls who were 30 last birthday. Yeah, that was it. He isn't hitting on you; he was actually curious. This realisation was what I needed to stop being a dribbling mess and return to a normal state of being.

"Yeah, I have a bit. I'm really enjoying The Way of the Kings." I felt my shoulders relax. I hadn't realised I was clenched up.

"Yeah, I've read that too. It's great. My name is Liam, by the way."

"Lana," I replied and stuck out my hand. He took my hand and shook it firmly. His hand swallowed mine.

"Pleased to meet you, Lana," Liam said in an almost formal way. He was still holding my hand. I felt the return of the Dribbling Mess. His hand was so warm. My stomach reminded me of a book I  read as a kid, 'there was an old lady who swallowed a spider, that wiggled and jiggled and tickled inside her.'

"Yeah, you too," I managed. I tried to take as much of my Australian accent out of the reply as possible. He sounded so posh, and I sounded like a bogan.

He smiled again, or did he smirk? He let go of my hand. I was barely able to stop myself from putting my hand to my cheek to feel the warmth still there. I smiled back at him and turned back to the bar. My hand went to my cheek.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

I looked back at Liam to make sure I had heard right. Yes, he was looking at me expectantly, his finger pointed to my drink. "What are you drinking?"

"Vodka, soda and fresh lime." It was my usual drink, and I said it instinctively. I could say the order even when I'm three sheets to the wind.

Liam signalled the bartender and ordered. I took the time to calm myself. I counted to 5, breathing deeply through my nose and out through my mouth. It worked, and my muddled thoughts cleared.

I had forgotten Will. I supposed it's not a good look for a random guy to buy you a drink when you're supposed to be on a first date. But then, Will wasn't here. I checked my phone, no messages or emails. Nothing.

Liam got himself a beer, grabbed my drink and stood up. "Would you like to go to the beer garden? It's a nice night out, and I'm really enjoying this Sydney weather."

"I uh... I'm waiting for someone."

Liam sat back down. "Surely they can find you outside when they get here. It's not that big a place."

"Yeah. I guess, but..." I was interrupted by the group of women I had seen earlier. They were bouncing as they stood, eyes flashing and huge grins on their faces.

One of them asked, "sorry, excuse me, are you, Liam Cross?"

Liam looked at me. His eyes clouded for a moment, and then an awkward smile was plastered to his face. He looked back at the women. "Yes, I am. Would you like a picture?"

Excited squeals and jumping came from the women, but I zoned out. Liam Cross. What the fuck? I stared at him. How the hell did I not recognise him? I've watched nearly everything he has done since he started acting.

I never really thought much of him playing superheroes or spies. Then I saw his last movie where he played a magic enhanced warrior, and he entered my fantasies. A strong, rough, capable man of action with a heart and moral code, what wasn't to love?

My God, it really was him. Liam Fucking Cross.

Liam cleared this throat, and I snapped back to reality.

"You're really him," I said.

"Sorry?" Liam cocked his head to one side.

"You're really Liam Cross."

"Oh yeah. I am." Liam grinned.

"I'm sorry I didn't recognise you. I don't know. I guess it didn't even enter my head, even when you said your name."

"And here I was thinking you were playing it cool," Liam said.

I scoffed, and before I could stop myself, I said, "yeah, nah, nothing about me was cool from the moment I laid eyes on you." I wanted to die.

Liam laughed, a proper belly laugh, and his shoulders seemed to bounce up and down. "Well, alright then, you weren't playing it cool. But it's ok. I don't need to be recognised by everyone I meet."

"Yeah, but I should have recognised you. I've seen heaps of your work." Just stop talking, Lana!

Liam waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. Where were we before we were interrupted? Beer garden, you and me."

I nodded. I grabbed my bag, and Liam took our drinks. "After you," he said, gesturing and inclining his head.

As I walked outside, I could feel my skin heat up. It was a warm March night and only slightly humid. A cool breeze was coming in from the harbour. We were close enough to smell the salt in the air.

"Where did you want to sit?" I asked. Only one bloke was having a cigarette outside, so plenty of tables to choose from.

Liam looked around and indicated to the tables down the back. "Down there, I'm less likely to be noticed there."

"That must suck."

"Yes and no. I like that people like my work and want to tell me and meet me. It feels good. It's just that sometimes, like now, I'd like some private time."

We sat down, Liam with his back to the pub. I sat opposite him.

"If you want some private time, why go to a pub?" I said. I covered my mouth. "Sorry, it's not my business," I added.

"Direct, aren't you?" Liam's lips twitched. "I am also here to meet with someone."

"Oh shit, Will." I rechecked my phone. "30 minutes late." I sighed, "I think I got stood up."

"Really? He must be an idiot." My eyes widened. Liam's lip twitched again. Was he laughing at me? "How long have you been dating?"

"This was supposed to be our first date. We met online, been chatting for a few months." My voice was quiet.

Will isn't coming. The realisation hit me, and I felt like I'd had a brick hit my chest. I turned away from Liam. If I was going to cry, I wasn't going to cry in front of him. I'm an ugly crier.

"Oh, Sweetheart, I'm sorry." Sweetheart? It must be an English thing because Will calls me that too. "Have you called him?"

I shook my head. I didn't entirely trust myself to speak yet.

"Why don't you?" Liam asked. "If he has a flimsy excuse for not coming tonight, then at least you'll know where he stands, and you can stop worry about it."

I took a few deep breaths. "I guess you're right." I got my phone out of my bag and stood up, "Give me a minute?"

Liam nodded. Twitchy lips again. What's with that?

I walked a couple of metres away and called Will. I started to pace, glancing at the back of Liam's head every few steps. Liam's phone began to ring. After a few rings, Will picked up.

"Hello Lana, how are you?" He sounded nonchalant. Did I get the day wrong then? No, I was sure I had it right. I had checked his message so many times.

"I'm ok. I am waiting for you at the pub." I paused and looked at Liam. He was on the phone too. "Did I get the day wrong?"

"No, you didn't. I'm here." I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding.

"That's great. Did you just arrive? Can you see me?" I looked around. I couldn't see him. I looked back at Liam. He was still on the phone but had turned in his chair and was looking at me.

"I can see you. You can see me too," Will said. I turned around in a circle. I still couldn't see him.

"I'm sorry, I can't see you at all."

"I'll come to you then," Will said.

Liam got up out of his chair and walked towards me. Liam was close now, and he stopped. Liam hung up the phone, and the call with Will went dead.

My heart thundered in my chest. I could hear the blood rushing through my body with each tremendous beat. The ground seemed unstable, and I wobbled. This isn't happening. It can't be happening.

Liam bent to my ear, his breath tickling my neck. His lips brushed my skin as he whispered in a low voice, "I'm right here, Sweetheart."

Part 2

[giorno-plays-piano]

Sense of normality

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, allusion to kidnapping and nonconsensual drug use.

Words: 1588.

Summary: It wasn't safe out there for a woman like you, and it would never be.

____________

Bucky didn't get to feel like a hero often.

Of course, he had saved the world along with the Avengers and was still fighting together with Sam for the sake of humanity, but it just wasn't the same. It felt like he was repaying a debt he owed to the world.

He owed nothing to you, the girl who ran onto him on a street at night and pleaded to help. There was a man chasing you, Bucky saw him. Judging by the way he moved and the abnormal expression he wore, it was easy to guess he was under some drugs.

"Wait inside." Bucky said, pressing his intercom key to the panel and opening the door to the hallway.

You got there immediately, but looked at him with deep concern in your eyes. In your mind you were leaving some man you didn't even know to deal with an ax-crazy who was after you. You didn't know who Bucky was, what he was capable of. Were you worried about him? Maybe you were. Bucky thought it was odd.

It didn't take him long before the man was there, throwing punches at him and acting like an enraged bull. When among other things Bucky kicked him in the ass, it rang a bell - he had certainly done it before, though he couldn't remember when or where. It felt strangely satisfying.

Then he stopped, looking at the unconscious body laying on the ground near row of dirty trash bins. He was supposed to give a call to let someone know about it, and he did. 911 could handle this man from now on.

You couldn't see much from the angle the glass door could give you, but when you spotted Bucky coming back he saw relief washing over you. You were happy he returned. It was very, very odd.

"Are you okay?" You asked right away once he opened the door and stepped inside. "Did he hurt you?"

"No."

He watched how you trembled like a leaf. You probably had some nervous disease, but he didn't know much about that. Bucky didn't know much about any diseases at all since he could have none after Zola worked on him.  Did he had to call the ambulance? You didn't look good with your face puffy from tears, eyes all red.

"Thank you so, so much." You said, smiling through tears at him. "You just saved my life. Thank you. Thank you."

Although you were still crying, the way you looked at him made him feel better. There was so much appreciation written on your face. You kept saying lots of words of thanks, and Bucky suddenly felt like a savior. It wasn't like no one had thanked him before, but never like that. Never so sincere. Desperate, even.

He motioned you to come to his apartment because Bucky wanted you to keep looking at him like that. Besides, you were still trembling. Where would you go like that in the middle of the night? It wasn't wise, he thought.

"Oh no, I forgot my handbag there." You mumbled, pressing your hand to your forehead. "My phone, my wallet."

"Where?" Bucky cocked his head to the side.

"In that goddamn club where this guy and his friends were." It brought you to tears, and Bucky reached for the napkin box.

"I will call there."

There it was. That look on your face as if you saw a halo of light surrounding his figure. Bucky liked that. He liked that very much.

He took his phone out of his pocket and stared at the screen, trying to remeber what the pattern he had to use. Sam was telling him something about Google maps.

It turned out to be quite easy except the fact that his huge fingers didn't press the write buttons all the time. How did people get used to type so fast? Well, maybe he had to buy a different phone, a bigger one. His was too little.

"... yes. She think she might have forgotten it on the bar counter. There are her wallet, cellphone and set of keys."

You were lucky the security had found your belongings quickly. It seemed like nothing was stolen.

"Can she pick them up tomorrow? Yes. Thank you."

He saw the surprised look on your face. You thought you were going to go, but he didn't want you leaving his apartment just now. He wanted to feel like a hero a little bit more.

"You said his friends were still there. It's not safe to go now." He explained calmly and saw the realization hit you. Then you wiped the tears away again, saying you didn't even have the money to get a taxi to take you home. You didn't live close, and walking to the other side of the city at night seemed like a horrible option. You were hopeless.

Bucky took you to the kitchen and took out a box of tea Sam brought him a month ago - it was huge, a dozen of different tea bags inside. Going throw them, he took out a camomile one. He remembered his mother saying something about it calming people down. You seemed like you needed it.

"You can stay here for the night." He said, pushing a big white cup with hot tea closer to you. Then he filled his own, thinking you might feel odd drinking all by yourself. Having a little company was nice.

You gawked at him with your mouth open but took the cup, nonetheless. You just couldn't believe someone was so nice to you, he thought. People wasn't often nice to him either, so Bucky could understand your hesitation.

"It's not safe out there." He said, looking at the window hidden behind the curtains. "Those guys are probably looking for his friend. If they caught a glimpse of you in a taxi, they might remember its license plate and find out where you live. If you walk by yourself, it will be even worse."

It sounded logical to him. You thought so too, probably, as you started shaking again and he had to reach out to touch your hand.

"Don't worry. They don't know you're here."

You nodded, swallowing your tears and gulping down the tea.

"I'm so sorry for all the trouble. I don't want to impose, truly." You muttered, keeping your head low and staring into the cup. Bucky thought your hair looked pretty in the dim light of the room.

"It's okay. It's not your fault." He said and made a sip of his tea.

He didn't remember when was the last time someone had tea with him in the kitchen. Sometimes he went with Sam to some bars together to have a couple of beers, but it didn't feel the same. Having a woman in his apartment was just as odd. Wanda came to help him settle in for a few times, and once Natasha visited him, too, but no other woman had ever been here. No other woman looked at him like he was a hero to her.

"I will sleep on the couch." He said and pointed to the fridge. "You can have whatever is there."

"Thank you, but you're too kind." You shook your head. "I've already brought you enough trouble to make you uncomfortable in your own home."

Bucky remembered the way Sam behaved when he saw a woman he liked and curled his lips a little, his face lit up when he smiled at you. Apparently, it worked as you immediately relaxed.

"It's no trouble at all. I'm glad you asked for my help." It was true. "I don't like when something like this happens."

"I still can't believe one time I got to go to the club I was chased out by some psycho." You sighed, making one more sip of the tea you seemed to like. "Guess I'm never coming out of my apartment again."

He let out a chuckle, still thinking of the way Sam would handle this conversation. Actually, he silently agreed that you shouldn't be coming to places like that nightclub. Staying home sounded like a much better option.

For some reason an image of you living with him appeared in his mind. You were wearing a short blue robe and cooking something in the kitchen while laughing at something he said. He could feel the delicious smell of food you were making for dinner. The empty shelves in the room were filled with photos, books, porcelain figurines, and other things that you deemed important to keep there. While you were busy in the kitchen, he was setting up a new wardrobe for you because all your clothes couldn't fit in his old one. He could still hear your lovely laugh when he made another joke about Sam and his issues with women.

Bucky admitted it would be nice.

"It will get better." He said, unsure whether he was talking to you or rather himself. "You don't have to worry about anything.""I'm truly sorry for everything."

"Don't be. Sometimes stuff like that just happens. It's a shame, but that's the way things are"

You nodded at his words and finished your tea, smiling a little into your cup. Bucky felt his chest getting warm for no reason and then tried to remember where he stored anesthetics - you were so nervous you would have difficulty sleeping tonight. If he really was such a good man like you imagined him to be, he ought to help you, right?

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @void-hoechlin @abyssaint

[sicklove-stuff]

𝕸𝖞 𝕸𝖞 𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖓𝖊 - FIC.

Notice to all, this fanfic has content considered uncomfortable, sensitive and politically incorrect. If you don't like it, leave soon. - The fanfic shows content of masochism, sadism, rebellion, aggression ... It is worth mentioning that nothing here reflects on the wrestlers, it is just a drama involving their characters in the ring.

Made by Omoshi’ 

★ Undertaker “Ministry of Darkness” era | +18 | Y/N “your name”, will be “Sara”. 

My best friend, Stephanie, when we were at the mall for the past few days ... She told me about a lunatic who claimed to be the minister of darkness with some companions, he wanted to marry her at any cost, however, I already knew that she was getting involved with another guy. This seems to be more disturbing than it looks, but whenever she describes it while we are choosing shoes in stores and among expensive clothes racks, it makes me crazy and my mouth water. - However, I can never express this to Stephanie, because she never seems to be happy to tell about it. I'm starting to sound a little bit possessive about this story that keeps me going, but poor Stephanie, she's having a misfortune.

I started thinking about it while I wait outside the company where her crazy father works, this backstage has never been so full of people that she thinks she can achieve something with me, despite the golden and virgin hair that I take care of very well, this is not an invitation. I snort by the mouth and start shaking my legs while I wait for her, she told me she had a party today ... It would only take a measly minute to say hello to her boyfriend, even though I repeatedly warned her that her boyfriend already had a girlfriend, she just giggles out of my face and pushes me in tones of fun ... saying it was better to live like this, in danger. What a stupid girl! - As time goes by I feel cheated, it's been twenty minutes since this has been happening. I bite my lips while anxiety overwhelms me, we're twenty minutes late from the party ... Just today that Stephanie hadn't robbed me of one of the few boys who had looked at me. It's her habit, stealing boyfriends ... Like she said, she feels dangerous.

Suddenly, everything was so ... empty? While I was lost in my thoughts, I did not notice the hours passing and the people passing too, it seemed that finally she would appear, or had she forgotten me there? Damn it. -When she lifted me from where she sat, a huge black box, to leave. I realize that everything is already closed, and everything starts to get scarier. Scarier, scarier ... Scarier. This is repeated more and more, more and more ... My head doesn't look very well. - Did something pull me?

When I look to the side, I notice that my whole skin is sweating, another hand wraps around my wrist, I look at my forearm, arm, covered in tattoos ... Demon tattoos, flames, just like Stephanie had said, that's ... It's realy true? When I go up to see who the face is ... The ordinary person's voluntary action is to faint with fear, or shout for help, but, I feel that I'm not that common, because that was the all dangerous guy that Stephanie was scared to death? He looked hotter than the ones she dated. - I could be stupid, I know, but my voluntary action was to smile a little, malicious smile. And again my mouth was full of water, but I stayed exactly in place, there was still "ice" inside me.

"Ah, I'm sorry, I'm Sara and ... I'm sorry if I was invading your area. BUT LET ME GO!" - Said while trying to let go, I liked guys like that but, it didn't seem to be very friendly, could it be that I've been thinking nonsense all this time and in the end, Steph was right?

He then pinned me to the wall. He was against his body, his arms were driving me crazy, and his psychotic look and his silence too, I soon tried to get quiet, that's when he brought his face closer to mine, bringing his mouth closer to my ear, God I never I had felt that sensation before. That's when I let out a heavy breath that he was pressing me against the wall. He then decided to break his silence.

"You are allied with that bitch." -He said, I was not surprised his voice was heavy with melancholy and rejection. As if everything in his life had gone ... Wrong? - "Do you want to end up like her? I always watch, she likes you, and my goal is to destroy all those she loves." -I managed to notice that he was laughing quietly and discreetly, just as if he was making fun of me. - "Sara ... Despite everything, beautiful name."

I didn't know if it made me feel hot, sexually and lovingly uncomfortable, or if it scared me, very scared. The misfortune that Stephanie always told me was, at that moment, my misfortune. Mine, my misfortune. I obviously tried to be reluctant to mind my own business, I forced my hand to keep him away from me, no one came around. It seemed to be not just a joke and a joke, the darkness was with this man.

"She does not love me!" - I pushed hard in an act of control over myself, successfully, I was away from him for a few centimeters, withdrawing my arms, unintentionally I ended up touching on a subject that I never wanted to get to ... "She betrays my confidence all the time, and I can only say that it's okay, when in fact it isn't! " - I couldn't believe what I ended up doing, I was confessing all my disappointment about my supposed best friend to a guy who supposedly wanted to kill and her family.But a long time ago, I didn't care about that, I did everything she wanted, so I could not live alone, while she lived surrounded by attention, people, appearing on television every Monday ... Surrounded by fans by simply to be rich, when in fact she was unbearable and stupid ... 

I know he wanted to cut me in half that hour, but, I think his plans had not worked out, he seemed very weakened. His hands weighed on my shoulders behind his back, he could do whatever he wants with me at that moment, since everything I carried over time I realized more of what was happening in my life, a lot of unhappiness and lies, I was always smiling and leaving, so as not to feel alone, when in fact I was more heartbroken than ever, Stephanie didn’t deserve to be with that boyfriend she was stealing from another woman who also loved him, as she told me, she deserved to pay for everything she complained.

"If you want to kill me, go ahead, my self-esteem is already in the trash. I don't have much to do anymore, because my biggest purpose in life has always been to be her shadow, SHE EVEN STEALS THE GUYS I WANT!" - Okay, I had already passed the point, but I hoped that he would soon get tired of me and leave, or just break my neck soon. That’s kind of suicidal.

Contrary to what I expected, he knew how to overcome my existential crisis at that time, I could feel his hands walking around my body, this was extremely strange, it was like he wanted to take advantage of me, but if I was there , I would not fight against the current, I did not know this guy, nor did I know his name, but his dark and evil aura made me crazy to the point of wanting everything he could offer me; so he knew how to select the phrases I said ...

"Do you steal the guys you try? Certainly because they are guys." - He said. A grip on the waistband of my skirt, and I just froze, and I then felt the fabric being slowly lowered ... And I then turned to face him in a feature of pure fear but micro-expressions said I wanted more than ever before.

"I ... I don't know your name ... What's your name?" - I asked while I realized that my skirt was already lowered to almost half of my thighs, I sweated coldly as I took a few steps back against a door. I was trapped.

"I have many names, many nicknames, but you can call me Taker. They currently have me as the Ministry of Darkness." - He came back to me and put his hand on the door handle that was supported, certainly if he opened it, I would fall back with all the strength I could, the moment I reasoned it, I already noticed it opening and my dancing feet losing their stability.I swallowed hard when I felt myself falling on the floor, an all dark room, some shelves, I couldn't identify what was there, I had fallen with my hips directly on the floor, painful as the impact hurt my whole spine in that tension, that tension and that horny I felt. I rolled my eyes when I heard the door being closed, nibbled on my lower lip ... I felt extremely strange, as if there was something burning inside me, the situation didn't help much anymore, my position with my legs spread and my skirt dropped even more , with my panties showing. When I least realized it, he would lower himself, and stay between my thighs ... I again gasped in suspense. I couldn't believe that what I was idealizing so much could actually happen. I can't sing victory before the moment.

"Oh, Sara ... Your drama is really ... Sad, but I'm not as sorry as I should be." - That sentence totally entered my being, while I already felt the fabric of the skirt go through the end of my legs, being accompanied by my panties that obviously could be a little wet. My cheeks went red as blood, from pure shame.I noticed him pulling something, it sounded like a blade, a ... A pocket knife ... And my immediate action was to grunt and stay static. The cold iron coming into contact with my skin, it made me shiver, but I was ... Liking, my side that I always hid, that of a crazy lover of good pain, if I said that to anyone it would be called a crazy bitch. And that was when I felt the blood flow, I closed my eyes tightly hoping for the worst, but, it had been a cut on the thigh, thin ... And then, he licked it.He licked my blood and my thigh, making other small cuts and licking them ...

 They were all very close to "that area", my intimacy, as if they were a path where it really made me shiver more than ever, my fingers stretched, a wave of enormous pleasure ruled me, I was practically out of my mind, I was no longer the Sara I knew. As he licked more, he got deeper, I could see that he had a huge tongue, he smelled, it made me extremely crazy; the fact that I was not seeing anything in the dark left me with "hands tied", he squeezed my thighs and I felt the blood drain more, but, he no longer licked the blood, he just licked my pubis and clitoris, I scratched the floor, the pure cold concrete trying to contain me more and more.That's when he said, after countless hickeys and licks ... 

"Don't hold back" - and laughed at me as he continued.Technically obeying his order, I moved the hands that were scratched on the floor to his hair, Taker ...

 Taker ... I repeated it in my head, Undertaker, Undertaker, of course ... I forced him against me, which made it more intense .. The first time I was having a moment like that, sensual, sexual ... What a misfortune Stephanie was missing all along. That room was already almost impregnated with my smell, I pulled her long hair, I could feel her beard ... until I couldn't help it, I splashed everything on her face. Once, twice, three times.I breathed as if I had run an entire marathon. That was when I decided to change the position and hold on to him, who had been kneeling, I held his waist and then let out the sentence: 

"You don't need Stephanie ... Forget her!"

He answered me...

"I already forgot.".

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

hey! so, i've been a huge fan of your writing for a while now. you always offer me so much inspiration within your stories, i absolutely love your ability bring life to all the characters and settings you write about. and idk if you're still accepting requests for your otp mix n' match challenge, nor if you'd even consider doing this request haha, but- could i perhaps request 15 & 11? i am super interested in potentially seeing what your take on my personal otp would be! much love either way

Hi, this has been in my drafts for like.... forever. Since April or May, I think? Oh boy. My apologies, I completely forgot about it until I stumbled across it today. But hey, better now than never, I suppose. Also thank you for your kinds words! I truly appreciate it! :D

“Louis and Mitch pretend to date to make others jealous but you know what happens.”

Read on AO3

This is a joke. 

This is a joke and he’s the butt of it. 

How did the fuck did he end up here?

Mitch knows this has to be a joke because Louis did not go through this much effort for it to not be a joke.

The remaining fries on the plate have gone cold, mushy beneath the squirt of bright cheddar cheese. Walter’s Diner has the best fries in this hellhole of a town, and usually, they’re the first thing he chows down before finishing his burger or even touching his shake. 

Fuck. Fucking hell. 

It’s hard to concentrate on and enjoy his food with Louis’ arm behind his neck, hand casually resting over Mitch’s shoulder as he and Violet argue whether they should order a basket of donut holes or four slices of peach pie for dessert. 

“They’re stuffed,” Violet says, pointing at the menu, reading, “‘Our bite-sized delights are baked to perfection, stuffed with our delicious cream cheese filling, and tossed in a heavenly mixture of cinnamon and sugar.’ And you’re telling me that doesn’t sound good?”

 “And you’re telling me that a slice of Walter’s famous peach pie doesn’t make your mouth water?” Louis sighs. “I’m salivating just thinking about it.”

Violet wrinkles her nose. 

“Peach pie sucks.”

“You suck.” 

“You suck.”

“C’mon guys,” Aasim butts in, eyes rolling in that exasperated way he gets whenever Louis and Violet do this. “Donuts suck, pie sucks, and you both suck. Let’s order ice cream.”

With a hand pressed against his chest, Louis lets out his fakest, most dramatic gasp. Next comes the obnoxious- and probably offensive- British accent.

“Why, my dear Mitch, Violet, did you hear what this lickspittle just said to us?”

Violet’s last tater tot goes flying as a response, bouncing off Aasim’s nose. 

“Are you serious?” Aasim snatches the tater tot back up, throwing it at Louis. 

“Hey! Rude!” Louis laughs, his arm slipping out from behind Mitch to try and catch the tot. “What did I do?”

Without a thought, Mitch grabs the offending tot and tosses it back at Aasim, who catches it and lets it drop onto his plate. 

“Knock it off, guys,” he says. “It shouldn’t take this long to decide on a dessert. I vote pie.” 

That makes Louis smile.

“Ah, a man after my own heart,” he sighs, shifting closer against Mitch’s side- Jesus Christ almighty- and pressing quick kiss against his cheek. 

Fuck everything. Fuck, fuck-

This causes Mitch to suck in a breath, only to cover it up by coughing into his sleeve. God, his face is going to melt off, especially if Louis keeps looking at him like that. 

“That’s not a surprise,” Violet rolls her eyes, ignoring the kiss and Mitch’s coughing fit. “He sucks, too.” 

“Can’t we just agree that we all suck?” Louis says. 

“Can’t you ever shut your pie hole?” 

“Can’t we all just order different desserts?” Aasim pleads, finger jabbing at the menu on the table to emphasize his point. 

Louis and Violet look at one another, puzzled as if that idea never occurred to them. At this point, Mitch didn’t even care about dessert, didn’t really even want any. 

Louis shifts and there’s the warm, distracting press of his knee against his and Mitch has never been so tense in his entire life. 

He's too fucking close. Too close. Too close. And he kissed him. On the cheek, sure, but fucking hell-

Never has he felt such tension in his body, even when something obnoxiously embarrassing passes his father’s mouth, or when Willy’s fingers slip from the branches of whatever tree he’s climbing and he almost plummets to the ground. 

He doesn’t know what’s worse: the fact that Aasim won’t stop gawking at them every time they do anything, or that Louis is fucking comfortable doing the things that make Aasim gawk in the first place. 

This whole thing is nothing but a cruel joke that Mitch was stupid enough to take the bait for.

And for what? A promise of Louis buying him lunch every day for a month? Was a free meal every day worth this level of anxiety and... gross feelings? 

“Fine,” says Violet. “I’ll eat a whole basket myself, but don’t any of you dare eyeball them. You had your chance.”

“I won’t eyeball your donuts if you don’t eyeball my pie.” 

“I won’t because pie sucks.”

“You suck!” 

“Oh my god,” Aasim abruptly twists around, desperately tapping on the shoulder of a now startled waitress. “Two slices of peach pie, a basket of donuts holes, and an ice cream cone to go. Please. I want to go home.” 

The waitress stares at him, baffled, before nodding and getting away from their table as quickly as possible. 

Louis chuckles, arm slipping back behind Mitch as he says, “I think she likes you.”

“Shut up!” Aasim frowns. “I swear to god...”

Louis continues to laugh, but he steals a glance at Mitch. Something softens and it’s... Mitch doesn’t know what the fuck it is. Ever since they started this, sometimes Louis will look at him like that.

From what he can tell, Louis doesn’t even look at the girl like that, and she’s the entire reason they’re doing this. 

That girl- what the fuck’s her name? He couldn’t have possibly tuned Louis out every time he mentions her- the redhead from his art class or whatever. She’s the one who started this bullshit.

About a month ago, Louis wrote him a note detailing, “I need your help. Meet me by the school entrance during lunch? It’s important,” while they’re in the middle of a pop quiz. As if Mitch didn’t have enough to worry about with all the damn fractions scattering the quiz, but then he was left worry about what the hell Louis needed his help with. 

Also, he did this without Mr. Garcia noticing. How the fuck that’s possible is beyond him. If they were caught, both of their quizzes would’ve been ripped to shreds. Mitch didn’t need that shit right now.

Then, the entrance was barely in sight by the time Louis snuck up on him, grabbed his arm, and proceeded to drag him outside and across the parking lot so they could hop into the safety of Mitch’s hand-me-down truck despite Mitch’s protests. He hadn’t cleaned his truck of its fast-food wrappers or loose sheets of forgotten homework in weeks, and that left him worried that the air freshener didn’t work. 

Finally, Louis managed to explain this so-called plan of his to Mitch with a straight face, not cracking once. He actually sounds serious enough that Mitch might’ve believed him if this bullshit wasn’t so... so bullshit.

“I really like her,” Louis had said, “and Violet said this kind of thing could get her attention.” 

Of course, Mitch didn’t agree so easily because the plan was- nd still is- stupid.

“You think pretending to date me is gonna get her attention?” he scoffed. “I’m not fucking doing this. Ask Vi.”

“I can’t ask Vi. She doesn’t date dudes and I’m pretty sure Brody would, like, break me in half or something.”

“Fine, Aasim then.” 

“C’mon, you know Aasim would never.” 

“Well,” Mitch threw his hands up. “I would never! Find someone else because I’m not gonna be your fake boyfriend so that you can make what’s-her-nut jealous!”

Jokes on him- Mitch’s been Louis’ fake boyfriend for weeks now because he hasn’t wooed what’s-her-nut yet. Which wasn’t that the whole point? They just pretend while she’s around? Not when they’re alone or when hanging out with Violet and Aasim? 

Louis said it was to make it as real as possible, just in case what’s-her-nut found out. That doesn’t explain why Louis is the way he is when it’s just the two of them. Doesn’t explain the kiss on the cheek. 

Mitch eats a cold fry, cringing at the taste. He can feel Violet looking at him while Louis goes on about something that happened in choir. When Mitch meets her eye, she smirks, raising a knowing brow. Mitch gives her a light kick under the table. 

When the waitress finally brings them their dessert in separate bags, she doesn’t stick around long and avoids eye contact with Aasim. 

“Hey, Vi,” Louis leans over her shoulder as they’re leaving the diner, “Can I have a donut hole?”

“I will stab you, your boyfriend, and your pie.”

“Hey, not my pie!” Louis grabs Mitch’s hand, knocking his shoulder into his. “Or my Mitch!” 

Fucking hell. 

Mitch doesn’t know how much longer he can handle this. 

[useless12sstuff]

Short stories #3

. 3 Above and Beyond

Trudging through the woods, I try to place the majority of my weight on my makeshift cane. Squinting my eyes, I try to keep sight of my path. The moon is of barely any help. If I had known it would be dark I would've snuck out a torch. Pulling my coat tighter around myself and wishing, not for the first time, that I should've worn something warmer above my hospital gown. I buried my nose in my scarf and yet, the crisp air still burned down my lungs. If my cigarettes don't kill me first, the cold certainly will. 'You shouldn't be here', the guilty part of my brain whispered. I squashed that thought down just like the leaves under my feet. Silly Linda, I scoff. She thought she could keep me in the ward by locking the door. Well look now, I jumped out the window. Well the pangs in my leg are almost making me regret. Almost. Oh whatever. To hell with Linda and her false pretenses. She can act sweet and coy all she likes but I know she wants me dead. Not more than I do but it is a mutual sentiment that is reciprocated. She's far too young anyway. A bit naive and very gullible. Very overconfident too but she is under the assumption that she's being 'smart' and 'sharp' and that an old, miserable midget like me won't be able to see right through her. An absolute fool. I despise it here.

I hobble my way to my usual spot, a clearing somewhere in the middle of the woods. The crescent moon stares down at me, as if judging. Sitting down on a tree stump while catching my breath, I pull out a pack of cigarettes that Linda missed and a lighter from my coat pocket. A cold draft rushed and rustled the trees and I held my coat tighter, shivering badly. With numb hands I light a cigarette and hold the lighter close, the tiny flame giving me a semblance of warmth. Sigh. I wouldn't want the fluid to run out. I pocketed it, closed my eyes and enjoyed my cigarette. Deep inhale and then exhale. Inhale and exhale. Finally, some peace and quiet….

…. Which did not last longer than twenty minutes. A sharp, whip like crack sobered me up and I opened my eyes to a terrifying sight. A creature with four faces, more than a hundred wings, taller than the trees, so huge that I can't distinguish the sky from its body. The moon is nowhere in sight. His whole body consists of uncountable eyes and tongues. What on God's green earth is this!? I can't move. Why am I not moving? Its hellish eyes stared me down. The cigarette I was holding had long fallen. I am a stone, glued to one place. I can't tear my eyes off this- this creature. All too soon, it descends and shifts into a shape more recognizable. A man. Dressed in a pure white robe, inky hair curled in every direction, skin the color of rich soil and piercing charcoal eyes, this man would stand out among any crowd. I must be hallucinating. Are cigarettes supposed to make you hallucinate?

"What kind of alien are you?" I asked in a quivering voice.

The man blinked. Then blinked again. Then stared at me long enough to make me wish I hadn't spoken.

"What kind do you think I am?" he smoothly replies, evading my question.

"A shape-shifting one."

He folds his hands neatly behind his back and doesn't reply.

"And who would you introduce yourself as?" he asks. I have a distinct feeling that he's humouring me. Like a cat who caught a canary.

"I, well, I-uhm-I fancy myself a student." I stuttered out. He doesn't need to know where I am from.

"A student of?"

"Life."

The alien smirked. An uncomfortable silence surrounds us, uncomfortable for me atleast. I feel weaker. Sweat beads at my eyebrows. This alien's presence has a weight that is taking a toll on me.

With nothing to do, I whip out another cigarette. I finished smoking it. Then I pull out a second, then a third, then a fourth.

"How long have you been smoking?" the alien asks suddenly.

"A few decades." I say, lighting another cigarette. A hush falls again.

"How do you speak our language?" I inquired, anything to keep the oppressive silence at bay.

"I've been here before."

"Oh?" I ask, hoping for an elaboration.

"Yes."

None came.

"What is it like?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Your planet. What is it like?"

"It is a human's dream come true. You can have whatever your heart desires. Food, clothing, land, companions. It is eternal peace-"

"Sounds like heaven." I interrupted.

The alien's lips quirked.

"Something of that sort. It can be very beautiful or very terrible depending on the person."

"Why so?"

"Would you wish for good things to happen to evil people?"

"No. Not at all."

"My point exactly."

"What is evil anyway? Is evil caused by a difficult life?You know, I've always wondered."

The alien calmly looks back at me.

"Have you had a sorrowful life?" he asks, a curious gleam in his eyes.

"Sorrowful?" I scoff. "I can barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore. A saying goes 'Let a man walk the halls of sorrow. Whatever comes out, can it be called a man anymore?' " I asked.

"Sorrow is either growth or wasted potential if you have not learned. Power on the other hand, man cannot be trusted with power. It is too corrupting." the alien argues.

"I'll have to politely disagree. Power in itself is not corrupt. Power attracts those who are corruptible. Those who took the wrong lessons from their sorrows."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You have become a cynic only because you felt your life was difficult. Your cigarette is proof enough. It kills you, yet, you stick to it. Doesn't that make you just like them?"

"You are not a human. You don't, and maybe, will never, understand the delicate intricacy of addiction. I am not defending myself. I am ashamed but leaving it is no easy task."

The alien hummed," If you believe so. You are quite a melancholic person." he says, matter of fact.

"So I've been told." I smiled self deprecatingly, "Look at me, debating about ideologies with an alien."

The alien smirked, as if he was in on a joke I wasn't. Strange.

I cleared my throat. It felt itchy. Must've been the cigarettes.

"Anyway,how does your planet deal with 'evil' people."

"You need not worry your head over it. Our, ah, justice system is very fair."

"Oh. Where is it located? Your planet that is."

"Not here. It is somewhere above all the galaxies."

That most certainly piqued my interest. I have wished for death on my worst days but on my best days, I've always been a curious bug, too curious for my own good. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Why are you here?" I finally cave in to my curiosity.

The alien side eyes me and replies, "I'm here to take one person home with me. Forever."

A thrill raced up my spine and anticipation settled in my bones. I licked my frozen, chapped lips. Perhaps I am being selfish. I spent my entire life looking for an escape, an escape from everything, my depression, my poverty, my disease, that hospital and its disinfectant smelling wards, Linda, this wretched world. That is an artist's curse. Escapism, they say, is an art too and I am anything but unacquainted to art. I always wondered about what was beyond, a place where no man had stepped. The golden threads of time, weaved into the fine fabric of the universe, permitted this opportunity to occur in front of me. I will take it even if my hands bleed.

I have no family that left, nobody who loves me. I'm bitter and alone. I deserve to be selfish for once in my life. To take a big leap, a risk. Yes, I will.

"Take me with you." I begged. "Please."

"Why should I?" the alien replied, staring right in my soul.

"You came for me. I know. If you didn't you wouldn't have landed here." I say, hopefully.

"And if I say that is false? What else would you offer?“

"I can offer you beauty and art. I can create for you."

"We have many of those."

"There will ever only be one like me. Just like there is only one artist like them. Themselves only."

Silence enveloped us again while rejection stung my chest again.

"Allow me to prove myself." I plead.

The alien looked at me, questioning.

"Look in my mind, see all that there is." I say determinedly. And I let him in my mind, let him see the world through my eyes and feel what I felt. I let him see my arts, my music, my poetry, my paintings that I crafted lovingly with my aged hands. I let him see what a human sees, something I know that he had never witnessed. Then I revealed my sorrows. Hopefully humanity would appeal to it.

With a pull he left my head. My eyes burned and I felt a blood vessel burst. I dry heaved on the dead ground but the nausea still lingered. I am glad I was seated or my knees would've buckled and I would've been an undignified heap on the floor. All the while the alien just stared and stared. I am getting sick of his staring too.

Once again, I broke the silence.

"I will paint your skies," I continue, hesitantly, "and your buildings and walls. I will write for the children and even for the old. Just please, take me. I'm exhausted ."

My eyes burned again, unshed tears waiting for release. I avert my eyes and let out a sigh. I feel heavy and my shoulders slump. Unexplainable exhaustion overcomes me and my temperature keeps rising, beads of sweat rolling down my face.

"If," he began,then stopped. It was the first time in our entire conversation that I saw him hesitate.

"If," he continued, "if I were to ask you to scream your wish at me, what would you fear more; your echo or my answer? “

"My echo", I reply instantaneously.

"Why?"

"Because it would mean you have declined."

"Hmm. Recite a poem for me."

I gave a shaky, hopeful smiled and offered him my words:

My river by the oak tree

has turned molten gold again,

as the glowing orb of light and life surrenders to the sapphire sky.

The cotton clouds float in shy, pink circles

While the rush of the river awakens a memory I had long forgotten,

When this same tree once bore luscious flowers,

Their scent wafting lazily into the cool breeze,

While I sat and reminisced about the possibility of other lives in the universe,

Under the wrinkled, silver moon.

Silence hugged us again while the impact of my weakened voice lingered in the air.

"Do you believe in other lives? Aliens and such?" he questioned.

"Yes I do, I mean you are here so that confirms it too."

"You are a funny one. No one has ever mistaken me for an alien." it grinned, crooked, as if a gesture it wasn't familiar with.

My body went cold and tremors shook it to its feeble core, my breath coming out in shallow pants. My eyes shut down of their own accord. The entity then spoke with a voice that might have held the weight of a thousand suns,

"Beyond the stars we go."

[etlunainmorte]

✒ P.S. I Love You ✒

***

Thank you! (Y/N) mouthed her gratitude as she pointed at V's pocket.

And then, as V felt for the thing in his pocket, the thing she put a few hours earlier, the lovers finally vanished into the night,... into sweet delight.

He smiled as he took a deep sigh of relief. It's finally over. He succeeded!

"Okay, folks! Show's over!" Avery clapped her hands like a bossy head chef and brought them back to reality from their own scattered thoughts. "We have a wedding to settle, and I'm inviting you!"

"W - " Nico muttered, at a loss for words at what Avery just announced. "But, we're done here! We finished the mission for ya. Isn't it a bother for both you and Roman to still have us around?"

Avery raised her eyebrows and rolled her eyes. "Well, duh. We're friends already, aren't we? Isn't that right, Roman?"

"You can say that again!" Roman happily answered as Griffon landed on his shoulder.

"I insist!" Avery looked at V and smiled at him. "And wear something decent for once, V! We'll help you and Nico with your outfit. In fact," She looked up, seemingly in deep thought, and brought her fingers to her chin, tapping it with them. She looked at V once more and pointed at him, a mischievous grin on her lips. " ... I think we should also invite that lazy Devil Hunter from Devil May Cry! Who was that again?"

V chuckled at the title she gave his twin brother. "Dante is his name."

"Oh! Can we invite Nero, too? And Kyrie?" Nico excitedly asked.

"Who's Nero and Kyrie?"

"Nero's the one with the God awful singing voice!" The Artisan proudly declared. "And Kyrie is his lady love!"

Avery couldn't help but knit her brows in confusion and disbelief. "I see. Well, sure! Poor girlfriend, though, having to listen each day to that!"

Nico, Roman, and Avery all laughed at the mere thought of this, until everyone noticed the Hispanic guy being comfortable with the demonic bird on his shoulder.

"Sweetheart, aren't you afraid of that bird?" His fiancée questioned him with mirth in her eyes.

To this, Roman only bashfully puffed his chest out and proudly brought his hands to his hips like a superhero. "I've grown much stronger and braver! And it was all thanks to V!" He, then, turned sideways to Griffon, who was looking at him like he has some evil intention towards him. "And to this amazing bird, too! Isn't that right, buddy?"

Griffon took this as a cue and widely opened his beak. "Ohohoho! Aww! So ye're brave now, huh?!" The bird told him in a clear voice that surprised Avery, made Nico burst out laughing, and made V smirk in amusement.

And Roman? The poor guy was simply at a loss for words.

And this only made Griffon more mischievous. He raised his beak and swayed his head from left to right like what he did the first time he met Roman, speaking in a hilariously loud tone. "FFFUUUCCCKKK YYYEEEAAAHHH! IT'S BARBEQUE TTTIIIMMMEEE!"

Roman lost it and fainted.

***

***

Three days later,...

"I pronounce you man and wife." The minister announced. "You may now kiss the bride."

Everyone cheered as Avery grabbed Roman by the waist, bent him, and gave him a passionate kiss.

V and Nico, who were both looking smart and gorgeous with the outfit the couple chose for them, applauded and chuckled at how Avery handled her blushing husband, Roman. 

Nico glanced at V and nudged him on the arm with an elbow. "Lookin' really smokin' hot right there, V!" She said with a wide smile as she looked at his ensemble of crisp, jet - black coat, tie, and pants, matched with a snow white - colored shirt and a pair of leather vintage shoes. His neatly slicked back jet - black hair, the perfectly polished metal cane on his hand, and the perfume he bought for the special occasion with the money he just earned from the mission gave him a truly and magnificently virile aura that made all the guests look at him, either in curiosity or something entirely different altogether.

The poet smiled as he nodded at her and her bright yellow bodycon dress matched with a ridiculously huge sunflower on her hair. "And I could say the same for you."

"Hehe, thanks!"

V smiled and took something out from the pocket of his coat, the thing that (Y/N) gave her three days ago that was, apparently, the source of the tremendous power that enabled him to beat the evil doctor.

It was her own locket which she kept close to her heart until her reunion with Victor. And she gave it to him that day.

With a gentle smile on his face and a soft look in his eyes, he carefully opened the locket, revealing a photo of her that was taken during that day when she first met Victor.

"Everything is alright now, (Y/N)." V whispered as the guests went on cheering for the newly wed. "Your great grand niece is safe and happily married.”

As Nico observed how V looked at the precious locket, her eyes widened, suddenly remembering something really important.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Nico blabbered, making V look at her in curiosity. "I have somethin' for ya."

"And what would that be?" V asked with a smirk as he hid the locket back to his pocket.

With a ginger smile, Nico produced something from her huge handbag and handed it to V, who looked at it with utter confusion.

"And this is?"

"The latest model of Somesang Universe. But I tweaked it for ya."

"Tweaked? How so?" V asked as he looked at the sleek and fragile black cellphone on his hand.

"I put some special programs of mine in it that could still let ya record all kinds of noises produced by all types of creatures. Ghosts, Demons, Mermaids, ya name it! And you can also play games in it, if ya want. Oh! I definitely didn't put Nero's singing in its music album, trust me!"

"What is it, Nico?!" Nero, who heard his name being mentioned by the Artisan, turned and gave her a suspicious look.

"Nothin', psycho!"

"Whatever."

"This looked,... really expensive." V told her as he humbly tried to give the phone back to her. "I do not know if I'm worthy of having a thing such as this."

Nico smiled as she pushed the phone back to V. "I insist! It's a way of sayin' thanks for letting me tag along on the mission."

"I see. Well, I appreciate this gift. Thank you so much. I will take care of it."

"Nah, don't mention it." Nico said as she lightly punched V's arm. "Actually, I put somethin' else in it. I found somethin' truly groundbreaking the other day when I went to visit grandma Adelaide."

"Who's Adelaide?"

"That's Victor and (Y/N)'s grandchild!"

"Oh, my!" Shame on me, I have actually forgotten to ask her name.

"Anyway, if you open the contacts list, you'll find her - "

"Hey, man!" Dante, who was looking really uncomfortable with his formal wear, interrupted the conversation as he hid behind V. "I'm not really good at this!" His twin whispered as he cautiously looked around like he was being stalked by Demons.

"What brings you here?"

"It's that crazy woman! She - "

"THERE YOU ARE!" All of them heard Avery's voice as she and Roman walked towards Dante. She totally ignored V and grabbed the legendary Devil Hunter's arm. "You're not escaping me this time! You'll join the game!"

"W - what did I do to deserve this, señorita?!" Dante complained as Avery dragged him forcefully towards the center where a lot of people were already waiting. 

"Oh, nothing! I just wanted revenge for denying me a week ago!" She declared with a mischievous wink.

"I'm not being paid for this!"

"V, Nico, you should join! And Mr. Nero and Ms. Kyrie, too!" Roman invited them as he gestured towards the crowd. "And Avery's cousin just arrived from Paris!"

A few moments later, V found himself next to Dante, Nero, and the rest of the male guests as they waited for Roman to remove a garter from Avery's thigh using only his teeth. The man waved it happily, making the men cheer wildly.

"What is wrong with this people?" Nero asked, disgusted at the display of unbridled male fantasy before him.

Dante sighed in disbelief. "It's a traditional wedding game wherein males try to catch the bride's garter thrown by the groom. Same thing goes for the bride who tosses her bouquet for the females. The couple who catches the garter and the bouquet is said to be destined to be together. But, that is just an old wives' tale."

"What?! I don't wanna be with anybody else other than Kyrie!" Nero, who took the game way too seriously, blurted out as he drew back in fear. 

Dante patted the youth on the shoulder. "I feel you, kid. Don't wanna catch it! Unless there's a hot babe in there somewhere, then,..."

"Hey, V!" Griffon, who was wearing a smart bow tie around his neck, landed on the poet's shoulder and whispered to him. "So, uh, me and the housecat surveyed the females, and we found yer perfect match! It's the one who just arrived from, ahh, Yourip! Yeah, that's it. Wait, what's Yourip?"

V chuckled at what his familiar just said. "It's Europe. And I' am not interested in this game."

"Aww, come on, Shakespeare! Don't ya wanna have a girlfriend?!"

"Yeah, give it a chance, V!" Dante teased as he patted the poet's shoulder.

V only shook his head, chuckling at the mere thought of him having a girlfriend. Who would love him, anyway, when he's not as strong as Dante, or as witty as Nero - ?

"ALRIGHT THEN, FUCK YEAH!" Griffon shrieked as he let out a small amount of electricity that went directly to V's right arm, startling him and making him raise it in response. The cane on his right hand, which was raised high above his head, then, caught the garter in perfect timing, making Nero and Dante cheer and applaud!

"Nice one right there, V!" Nero cheered as he clapped his hands. "And Little Chicken!"

V brought his cane down and looked at the lacy thing on his cane, and before he could say something else or even react, the females cheered as Avery tossed her bouquet. There was a strange noise as some females screamed, Black Panther! and drew back. Apparently, Shadow, who was wearing a huge pink lace bow around her neck, pushed someone from the crowd, making her stumble forward and catch the bouquet in the process.

"Mission accomplished!" Griffon laughed menacingly as he flew away from V before the poet could say anything and landed on the table where the huge vanilla - flavored eight layered cake was, starting to nibble on Roman's part on the treat. Shadow arrived there a few seconds later and started eating Avery's part.

"Come here, V!" Roman said with a huge smile ( still unaware of what's happening to the wedding cake ) as he took the poet's arm and dragged him towards the center. V arrived just in time to see Avery dragging the lucky girl who caught the bouquet towards the center to where he was. Avery looked up at V, smiled at him, and moved to the side, revealing to him the girl who was now holding her bouquet.

And as he looked at the girl, he couldn't help but get mesmerized and emotional at the same time. The girl, who laid her (E/C) - colored eyes on his green ones, felt the same as some kind of unknown emotion started to form in her chest.

She brushed a wayward (H/C) lock away from her face and placed it behind her ear. She, then, gave him that smile that V was longing to see once more.

And with an achingly familiar voice that he thought he would never hear ever again, she spoke to him.

"Haven't we met?" She asked him.

"My,... Evening Star,..." V whispered as he smiled at her,...

***

TO BE CONTINUED

***

✒ @la-vita , @micaelagua , @v-vic , @birdgirl69 , @beyond-the-mirror , and @cantcopewithlosingv . ✒

***

✒✒✒

***

[courtorderedcake]

Hallow : ch XIII - CSSNS 2019

“The Goblin King was prepared to host the Darkness, stealing Fae women away to their corrupted lands underneath the ground as concubines. The Darkness chose another in his stead, but not before this selected vessel enacted a devastating attack in its vengeance, revealing its hatred & rage. The battle was a lesson the old kings had forgotten; never underestimate an opponent.

Many more lives were lost as they razed over any who dared defy The Goblin King’s will. Only the pure love of our rulers united in matrimony, breaking the Vorpal Dagger, sealed the darkness and the Goblin menace away. The light flourished under their fair rule, and the queen bore a child as pure as moon beams, swan feathers, and starlight. They lived happily ever after, and shall be written in history as Heroes for All Time.”

This is the history Princess Emma memorizes from the day she is born, paraded about and presented only with the highest protection. The palace is a cage she wishes to escape, desperately. Not careful what wishes she made, Emma discovers history is written by the victors - The Dark One has an entirely different version of the events that took place.

Read on AO3 here.

Rated E for explicit themes, Mature situations, and Fae fuckery.

Written for @cssns

Ch 8 / ?? - In which a true apology is given

*** ARCHIVE WARNINGS VERY MUCH APPLY FOR THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE READ WITH DISCRETION.

The Darkness was roiling mad, a furious mass of thorns that exploded in his rib cage and up through his spine. It ripped threw his head, his shoulders tightening as it dug in like a macabre torture device of old. He kept trying to explain, trying to make it understand his reasoning, but it only howled like a wolf outside the sheep pen - 

YOU HAVE NO REASONING FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, YOU STUPID MAN! 

She had to be well in order to fight long enough to survive for Nil; to not just hang herself while the Dagger melted silver down her clavicle. 

DO YOU NOT REMEMBER OUR JOINING, OUR PACT? HOW TO ACT WITH FINESSE, TO BREAK SOMEONE WITHOUT EXERTING PRESSURE, OR HOW TO PUSH THEM OVER THE EDGE? 

Calling for Alice and asking her to go to Emma's aid was a good thing strategically, and her actually appearing like some sort of fogged looking glass apparition he summoned was a blessing

YOU COULD HAVE FOLLOWED MY SIMPLE PLAN FOR YOU TO PUSH HER WHILE SHE WAS BREAKING! 

The voice changed in timbre and tone as it sometimes did, easily digging its points home. Killian could practically see his father, drunk and dismissive, shouting at Liam and beating them both bloody under one of the massive pines. The memory of watching Liam with a broken jaw as he went into his first year in the junior naval recruits was the one it dug its claws into, the Darkness fueling old anger and shame. 

YOU SAW HER HIDE FROM YOU, YOU COULD HAVE EASILY WORKED YOUR WAY UNDER HER SKIN AND GOTTEN HER FOLLOWING YOU TO NIL. YOU COULD HAVE EVEN PRESSED FOR THE SHARD, IF SHE WAS TRULY AT HER WIT'S END - INSTEAD YOU TRIP OVER YOUR TONGUE LIKE A BOY! AN IMBECILE! 

It pressed him, but he was not weak. He could crush his father ten times over now if the bastard wasn't dead, and no one could get under his skin again. Certainly not some crying woman, especially the daughter of an enemy, and such a valuable card to hold in play if he wanted to be free. Maybe he had told Alice too much about his worries over Emma, while Robyn watched with bewildered dismay. Maybe he blurted how she was acting, and they thought that he was showing weakness or worry. Imagined of course, there was nothing - 

SHE BEWITCHES YOU INTO SYMPATHETIC STUPOR, SHE FILLS YOU WITH IDEAS OF REDEMPTION YOU DO NOT DESERVE, YOU ARE SO CLOSE TO YOUR REVENGE, OUR REVENGE, AND YOU FAIL ME. I MUST PUNISH YOU, I MUST HURT YOU. 

He braced himself; the pain of broken bones as he folded into himself was enough to make him wish for true death. 

I WISH YOU WERE DEAD, FREEING MYSELF FROM YOUR INEPTITUDE WOULD BE A BLESSING WELL MET WITH YOUR DEATH. 

They both knew it was fruitless, the idea impossible while the dagger was still broken. He would survive the pain, and the Darkness would greet him in its vengeance without fail. With eyes closed tightly, he braced himself for what was to come. 

Instead of pain, though, it cackled, and Killian felt more fear than before. 

Oh yes, feel that fear, Dearie. No more physical pain for today. You mentioned strategy - I have a strategic plan for you, regarding a fitting punishment; the sort worthy of this sort of betrayal. You've been misbehaving without consequences too long now, your leash forgotten. Do you remember when you failed to stop Snow Margueryte and her Charming? Do you remember how I tormented you for your failure? 

Killian shook his head in horror. Not that. 

Oh yes, that. It's time for your nightmare. I'll provide you mercy and heal you first… Be patient, for when I'm done we'll begin my favorite game with you. We haven't played in such a long time… 

His bones began to knit back together, cracking into place noisily and sloppily. Emma's voice suddenly echoed into his chamber, breaking through the Darkness' cackling. 

"Dark One!" She was blazing with rage and light magic, Killian barely able to stand upright at her advance. The Darkness felt licks of her fury strike, its yowls of pain as it hid itself away a bitter requiem of relief. 

Killian gritted his teeth as he adjusted his frame to lean against the wall, his body still healing slowly even as the Darkness exited. "Princess?" he rasped. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she shrieked; he thought she might move to strike him, to hear the venom with which she spat the question out. "You went through Ariel? Through Alice and Robyn? Through Eric and Marta? Did you think that I would not find out immediately or that they would not tell me of your attempt at deceit? What information did you hope you could squeeze from them while I was dealing with the consequences of my failures? You already know all of them, what could you possibly use against me now?"

He winced, and not all from pain. A vague guilt that had a name - remorse perhaps? 

“That wasn't the reason, I didn't - I wanted to -"

"I don't want anything to do with you. How many times do I have to -" Emma's magic hit him again, his corroded mind practically melting as her magic burnt the Darkness where it attempted to remain stuck to his bones. His knees wobbled. 

"Emma, I just need you to know -" 

Emma interrupted as he tried to take a breath, sweat beading on his forehead. "No. No, you don't need me to, you want me to. Big difference, buddy, and I have a choice in whether or not I listen. I don't want to listen."

His voice sounded small to his own ears. "I just want to know that you're okay."

Emma laughed, her eyes wild and teeth bared. "You know that I'm okay, that I am just dealing with a war, deaths, betrayals, figuring out who to trust and who isn't a monster. You've known I was alright since I left you, since I didn't come back - it's you who isn't alright. You’re scared. I don't blame you for it either; I can't imagine how it must feel to be unable to make your own choices, but I am not and cannot be your crutch. Find someone else."

Nodding, he scrubbed his face, and then carded his hand through his hair. "I thought - Never mind. Please just - You'll have to take care of yourself to survive. Keep yourself safe, and the shard; talk to Ursula and Ariel, alright? I was - I thought they might be concerned for you, and I am sorry for bothering them. And you. That's all. Nothing else."

Marta poked her head in, clearing her throat. "Uh, Killian. Ursula has a ship ready for you, and she's requested that you leave immediately. I've offered to go with you part of the way to make sure you don't do anything else untoward."

Emma snorted, spitefully. "Thanks Marta. Sorry you got the short straw."

Marta sighed. "Princess, do you need me to -" 

"I'm fine," Emma snapped. "Just about done here." Marta gave a nod, taking her leave. 

"I'm going to leave then," Killian said.

"Good. If we never meet again it will be too soon."

"If it means anything, I'm glad you are safe. I'm glad the shard is safe. I am glad you are with people who can help you, and who are… good at protecting you. I don't - you don't have to worry if they are trustworthy, and they won't fail you. Goodbye, Princess."

"Farewell, Dark One." 

He walked in a daze to the place where his ship waited, uncaring and unaware of the Selkies booing him, the food and trash thrown at him, of Ursula, Eric, Ariel, Alice, and Robyn watching his trek out of the caves with Emma. He stared, Eric and Ariel openly glaring, Robyn giving him the same squinted look of confusion that she had previously, and Alice too busy talking to Emma. 

To distract her from him. A dull heaviness pushed down on his shoulders, weight settling in his stomach. 

Marta was already waiting for him on the ship, a look of pity for him on her face. "Ready?" she inquired softly. He nodded, and they drew anchor. The ship moved through the calm water, everything quiet as they departed, including the voices that made up the Darkness. 

The portal out was a one way exit, the ship's wheel in his hands a steadying comfort. They caught the breeze, leaving the tranquility of the underwater oasis and sailing off the proverbial edge of Ursula's world to land in stormy waters. 

He had to blink a few times as a bright green bolt of blinding lightning cracked in the heavens. The storm was massive, and he followed its course along the horizon, seeing an armada skirting a hurricane before it hit something unseen, the clouds breaking apart. Killian ran to the stern, Marta joining him with a hand over her mouth. 

Ursula's caves flickered into view, appearing like a great bubble from the sea floor by some otherworldly force. As the caves crested the surface, the protective forces that had been shielding the caves broke with a resounding force, the huge crash as they struck the surface to sink again sending a shockwave through the water. Their ship pitched back and forth as they held steady to her moorings; the water had become a roiling mess of waves from the magic radiating off of the fleet in the distance. Green lightning struck the water all around it, and even from their distance Killian could see floating carcasses and the mass of birds seeking carrion, the water a sickly olive color. The storm began again, and Killian brought the spyglass in his pocket to his eye to examine the strangest fleet of mismatched ships Killian had ever seen, and tethered at its front was the cause of this destruction - King of the Merfolk, the previous King of the Sea: Ursula's brother, Triton. 

Shuddering in disbelief of the King's fate, even if deserved, Killian tried to map and count the plan of attack from their positions. Frigates, sloops, and even a few galleons were interspersed with metal rusting boats in styles Killian had never seen. The largest was something Elsa had called a barge, and it led the ships as the storm beat around them, the towering man with a large, dirty, grey beard at the lead. Focusing with a twist, he surveyed Triton further. The partial God was bruised and emaciated, held by a golden collar around his neck that linked to the barge with its towering blocks of rectangular metal boxes. Following the chain from the man’s collar to a raised dais that lay on a deck, Neal lounged nearby in a windowed observation level, looking bemused. Triton was under the control of the prince, his powers controlled by Nil's desire to possess Emma. 

But they would never, never get through to Ursula - 

Triton waved a large trident around, and the storm sparked with green and purple electricity. Ursula's secret realm lurched into view again as he spun the weapon with skill, before it sunk below in another huge crash. Their ship creaked ominously as the waves sent them flying. Triton bellowed loudly, making Marta whimper next to Killian. 

"We have to go back," Marta whispered, watching Killian close the spyglass. 

"Go back? For what, the pleasure of being ripped apart by Goblins and a demi-god? She doesn't want me there, what good -" 

Marta slapped him hard, changing from a highborn prim matron to the visage of a livid sorceress. 

"Stop thinking about yourself for one damned minute, you narcissistic clam! Even if that is the Darkness in you, recognize that this is bigger than you or your princess - my friend and my people are about to be slaughtered. I know what you did. I know how you exploded over that fleet like some sort of comet, and how you screamed the entire time begging for forgiveness. I was there in the water, before and after. I watched you kill those men, I saw them die; it took days to get the blood out of my pelt. Are you really going to let that happen again? Even if they aren't your people?"

Remembering the Darkness and its threat of reliving his worst nightmares, Killian paused. A spark lit his chest into a blaze. 

"If you wanted to die so badly, you could not have chosen a more reckless bastard willing to assist." He turned the ship, heading straight towards Triton and the Goblin fleet. 

What are you doing?! 

Killian felt the Darkness wake again, still weakened. Reading his thoughts, it quieted at the promise of a battle, the idea of any sort of confrontation too delicious to push back against. It acquiesced to his intended course, lending strength that made Killian grin ferally. 

They had just passed where the portal had spit them out when he heard the noise of another ship close by, only slightly behind. It caught up with them in an instant, and he had to blink; the silhouette was so familiar, the way it glided through the water as if it flew, almost like the Jewel but not quite - 

The thought was obliterated as Emma came into view on the deck, her hair whipping around her scowling face. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  "Get her out of here. This place is about to be a war zone if they manage to pit Ursula against Triton," Marta yelled at Emma's vessel, pointing to where Triton moved the water in huge eddies, the sea opening up and closing. 

Ariel yelled back, obviously frustrated and pointing at Emma. "We told her that, she -" 

"This is what Emma wants to do! We need to help Ursula, and we need to help your father, so why are you so oblivious you twit?" Alice marched toward Ariel, pointing, no longer soft spoken. 

"Of course I want to save my father, but how the hell is she going to help when she isn't even in her right mind!" Ariel spat, before regret played across her features. "Emma, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that in the way -" 

Alice and Robin cut off Ariel, though their words were lost to a forceful gust of wind. Alice looked livid, gesturing at Ariel to the point that Eric had stepped in and tried to separate them. Emma looked frozen in place, opening her mouth to say something, but thought better of it and retreated. Killian caught her eye, but she just looked through him, and instead jumped when thunder boomed over their heads.

Wind ripped at their own sails, Marta running to the front of the ship as Killian raced toward the back, glancing over to see Emma's sleeker vessel roll in the waves. The storm itself seemed concentrated around them suddenly, growing in ferocity. Massive waves, fueled by Triton’s powers, drew up shipwrecks that crashed into their vessels, jostling the princess and sending Eric to the wheel to frantically steer. Ariel was red with rage, screaming at Alice and Eric, while Emma tried to get their attention. 

Killian yelled at them to stop, but they only pointed their shouts at him, rain now pouring down on them like the sky had opened. 

Emma let out a scream of frustration, and Killian could see it before it happened, moving with a rope in his hand as he threw back the last of the vial in his pocket, jumping into the water only moments after Emma lost her balance and flew over the side. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  "Stop fighting, it's making the storm - " Emma shouted, but it was drowned out over the roar of waves, the downpour, and the brawl. A wave tore at her, and she was thrown roughly to the deck, her hand catching a rope for support. The wind whipped the rigging skyward, her cuff falling away as she flew off the planks and into the ocean. 

The water hit her full on, taking her breath away. She scrambled for the cuff, realizing too late it was lost in the sea. The dark water was freezing, crushing her in the indeterminate up and down. In a panicked moment she tried to summon the cuff, and when her magic simply sputtered, she tried to conjure air. No bubbles formed around her, her magic strained or weakened by Nil's influence on the sea. Fighting against the current left the air in her lungs burning, but she could not give in. A life of no more sky was how all of her nightmares seemed to end: here in the silence of drowning, in a life with Nil, or surrounded by darkness that was too alive. What would her mother say? Her father? With their fiercest faces on, speaking of honor and hard won peace - 

"We never give up in this family, Emma. We always find another. Good always wins."

Now she wanted desperately to ask at what cost? At what cost did good win, when this was good? Good should not be having to struggle, banished from a realm for no more reason than hatred, locked away forever or until you could be of use, punishments that were cruel and unusual - that wasn't good winning. 

That cost didn't need to be paid when there were so many other paths available. If only they had sought wisdom, if they had reached out and tried to see what might be good for all… Emma wished that she could have helped them do better, that maybe if she wasn't drowning, if they weren't imprisoned, if the weight of what they built hadn't come crashing down, they all could have changed things. 

Her eyes blurred and bright spots burst in her vision. Blackness closed in, her magic dampened, embracing the beginning of the end, until a hand grabbed her own. It pulled hard, tearing through the water. A blue light came from somewhere in the dark, but when she reached for it Emma felt her legs touch a tail, hand tingling from shock. There was no way it was him; Ariel was right that she had lost her mind, this was just some strange vision before she would wake in her bed. Arms wrapped tightly around her, pulling her upwards, trying to beat the water that leaked into her mouth and nose, and there were his eyes, like he actually - 

Landing on hard wood with a thud, she could dimly hear voices of concern, but mostly she could see a soaking wet Killian looking down at her in fear. Emma coughed, choking on water as he watched her, breathing in harshly himself and falling back to his elbows. Too weak to move away from him and much weaker still to try to ask why, she stared at him in angry confusion. 

"You really need to stop drowning around me," he said in explanation, wiping wet hair away from his face, as if it meant nothing. "It's a terrible way to go, and I have made it abundantly clear that I will not let you."

Emma couldn't help the laughter that bubbled out of her at the absolute absurdity of everything, the hurt in her chest from the lack of oxygen, and how much hatred she wanted to feel even though she could not summon it. 

"I'll try and keep that in mind. Thank you," Emma whispered with as much annoyance as she could muster. Killian cracked a cheeky grin, and Emma felt the urge to punch him rise. 

"Emma, I'm so sorry. We realized that you were gone after he was jumping off the other side after you - " Alice rapidly began, before crushing Emma in a hug. The rest of her friends gathered, the storm calming around them on both ships. 

There was a loud splintering crack as more of Ursula's realm was pulled from hiding. Goblins threw ropes at the caves, climbing like spiders into the network of tunnels as Selkies launched their own bare defenses until they were dragged out in nets. 

A massive tentacle broke from the water, smacking hard against Triton as Ursula pushed free into the onslaught. Ariel gasped, and Marta began frantically pacing the deck. 

"What do we do?" Marta asked. Everyone turned towards Killian, who looked at his feet. 

"Don't look at me," he snapped, pointing to Emma. "The princess here does a far better job at improvisation methods. Ask her, she's your leader."

Emma blinked, staring at Killian with a suspicious glare. She thought for a moment, pushing past everything that had happened, her fears evaporating as she moved into planning. 

"We help Ursula, and we help the Selkies. Eric will pilot to Ursula, while some of us take the other ship and destroy what we can of Nil’s armada." She spoke calmly, delegating tasks quickly and methodically cycling through what they would need. "Ursula needs more time to try and get her denizens all out, so we need to make any sort of distraction we can. We can draw them away or at least split their forces if he knows I'm here."

"That is a terrible - " Ariel began, but Emma stopped her with a harsh tone. 

"If you have nothing better to offer, Ariel, I don't want to hear it."

Ariel managed to look shocked, before swallowing with a nod. "Let's free my father."

They split as a group, Emma giving Marta a solemn nod when they turned away to head towards Nil, Eric steering their ship straight into the formation. Killian forced his way between two ships in the rear, blending in easily, using their mix of styles to his advantage. It wasn't until the the first ship lay silent and burning that any attack looked like it was taking place. At least he could do this; maybe they could do this and for once take a victory. 

Marta steered hard into a barely held together wooden sloop. Alice and Robyn wreaked chaos with strange smoke bombs detonated by arrows while Killian lit sails on fire, the Goblins seemingly not understanding why liberally leaving petrol around could be a problem. The armada's wooden ships burned hot in the water, making the storm even eerier, green lightning mixed with the bright reds of the flames creating barriers for any course direction. It was clear that the Goblins were not familiar with any Naval strategy, and Emma felt a small surge of hope. Eric had a steady hand as he watched Ariel create portals, shutting them around longer vessels when they were halfway through with screeching crunches. 

The Goblin fleet took notice, but Nil made no move for Emma as their ship took fire. Eric and Ariel disappeared onto a steel boat with a claw like contraption while Emma tried to magic herself onto another ship’s deck without success. Her hands trembled, sparks finally lighting and sending her sprawling on a shiny silver floor surrounded by huge containers stacked on each other. A Goblin stared at her in confusion before she lunged, plunging her sword into its chest out of instinct. The Goblin fell with a thud, and Emma began to run. These ships were long and easy to cross. Her mind was made up to get to Nil before he could get to the Selkies. 

Killian appeared in the middle of the last surviving holdout of metal barges, pursued as he jumped across a row of metal containers above Emma while she herded a group into the space below. The Goblins above carelessly knocked containers down in a tumble, burying her pursuers. Emma met his eyes briefly, giving him a nod.

They continued through the maze of metal on opposite sides of each other, flowing into an easy strategy together that made her angrier still at Nil - angry that she could possibly consider working again with the Dark One. It was too simple to fall back into their unfriendly truce. The thought had barely crossed her mind when the wood under her feet splintered and bowed, her feet slipping as the barge tipped forward, barreling towards the sea floor. The impact of the hull against the rocky ground sent her flying, the noise alone reverberating through her teeth like she was shattering as the rocks came towards her at frightening speed. 

The same black blur as before pushed her into swirling water. The force of the whirlpool crushed them both, but her hand crushed his even harder while he pulled upward. Water resettled again as they gasped for air together at the surface, Killian’s hair sticking flat against his face. The water was full of debris and flame, smoke making it impossible to see much of anything. Ships ground together all around them as he helped her cling to a chunk of wood. It was in both of their best interests for her to be alive and uninjured, but here he was playing some sort of savior that went far beyond the bounds of their truce. He was behind her, at her side, or in sync with her step, both of them working together with an ease as if they were partners, and yet that’s not what they were. It made her angry, furious even, even in the midst of battle. 

"Killian, what - " But before she could finish, she was forced to push him frantically out of the way as a huge chunk of a rock formation fell, the resulting force smacking them together. "Look out, go!" 

More rocks fell around them and cut through the smoke, Ursula's lair appearing again to all as its protective shields flickered to a shuddering halt, the walls looming over them as it hurtled downwards again towards the sea floor. One of the main chambers swallowed them as the lair descended, pushing water aside as it split around them, crystals raining down in sparkling pieces. Caught in the push back of the water, they were pulled with the mass of rock as it fell away and began settling into the bottom of the sea. The force of the ensuing wave, however, pushed them back up and over the surface, Emma's back smacking against what was once the cave floor. The two pieces were still crumbling, but now sat horizontally in the water to create an invisible shoreline made of stone. Emma had little time to acknowledge where she landed, the wind escaping her lungs when she tried to shriek and shield her body from another round of the boulders. Killian pulled her into a roll, ending up above her breathing heavily. 

"G'off - " Emma let out a panted breath from under him, weakly protesting at his weight. "Catch your breath, and g'off!"

Killian rolled off of her onto his back, letting out puffs of air as he did. 

"Sorry," he rasped, and finally pushed his hair out of his face with a wet slap. Emma let out a laugh, regretting it instantly as she coughed. 

"S'alright." Propping herself upright on her elbows, she quickly glanced around the cave fragment where they had washed up, now its own small island in the turmoiled sea. Standing and peering around the cracked rock, her breath caught again. 

Ursula's realm was broken into pieces around the remaining ships, cracked and jagged mountains of what was once the cave jutting out of the water. The piece they were sequestered on was at the outer edge, so obscured by smoke that they could not see Ursula at all until Triton's first blow landed and swept the billowing clouds away. 

The brother and sister stood in the water in front of Nil's barge, both of them colossal and struggling against each other’s strength as Ursula's tentacles wrapped around the trident. Nets were thrown towards what was left of the caves, dragging selkies into a cargo hold, the water carrying sounds of distress to her ears. Emma slipped through the crack, running towards the water, but there he was in her peripheral, because of course he was. Of course he would stalk her even in the middle of a battle - 

"Don't you dare tell me not to do this, not to do something - " Emma hissed, putting more distance between them. He stood slightly in front of her, but made no move to stop her. 

"I wasn't going to," Killian replied with a sideways glance, following slightly behind when she pushed past. "Do you have a plan?" he asked when they got closer, nets hauling in screaming women and seals. 

"Get the Selkies out and turn Nil's focus fully on me so that Ursula can free Triton. Nil doesn't care about his people or how many die; he will only notice if a new plaything is put in front of him. I don't know how much time Ursula needs, but that's my last resort plan."

"I have a plan, and it should buy you time if you - " 

"Trust you again?" She whirled on her heel back towards him. "That's below even my last resort plan. I will never - " 

"I've betrayed you, and I understand that you owe me nothing, Em - Princess, but I swear to you now that I give you my fealty. I swear on Milah, Liam, and Elsa that I will be your ally, and help you in this war. Take a leap of faith here, please, I promise you that - " She turned away. Killian tried to follow, but she held up a hand. 

"Shut the hell up, Killian. Just stop. Please." Her voice wavered slightly, and he halted behind her. Seeing him look actually admonished, actually concerned as he pushed wet hair away from his face, Emma lowered herself into the water. 

"Fair enough." He whispered.

"By the way," her shoulders tightened, though she didn’t bother to glance at him, "if you're really sorry, truly apologetic even in some part of you that can still muster that emotion, a true apology would be changed behavior. Which is why if I am faced with you and Nil as my options, I will take this dagger shard to the bottom of the sea. I’d rather die than pick either of you."

"I am - " 

"I don't care, Killian. Thank you for your help here, and thank you for saving my life. It does not change anything."

Emma propelled herself forward into one of the nets, leaving him behind again. It dragged her and several frightened Selkies up over a deck, depositing them into some sort of holding cage. Emma moved quickly, cutting through the ropes with a knife that Ursula had given her. Handing it off to a nymph, Emma lifted herself from the floor with discarded netting, looking around to see what all was taking place.

Emma spotted Ariel in a corner, waving for her attention and pointing to a wall with a circling finger. She could make a portal; good - a quiet and easy way to get the Selkies to safety. Emma motioned to the groups of Selkies netted on deck, prioritizing those who were held down by Goblins or in view of the archers taking aim near the King's raised area. The first two attempts were straightforward, no Goblins milling around to stop them. The third was more harrowing, almost cut short by a Goblin's shrieking. Killian snapped its neck from behind as Emma braced herself for discovery, her eyes widening further when he ducked down and helped her cut through a heavy cord that bound the Selkies. They split apart again, the last groups too close to the front and at risk of being directly under a rain of archers. There was a shadowy section of boxes that she could dip behind for cover, but without the archers’ eyes distracted, it would be impossible to get to. Killian signaled from a corner, ducking behind a tarp when a patrol went by. 

Emma stayed still in the hold, pleading with her eyes, trying to tell him that she needed only a little time. He gave her a slight downcast smile, almost a grimace but not quite, and sprung from hiding. Slashing and hacking at a set of Goblins to provide a distraction as she ran to cut the last nets, he made his way toward the front of the huge metal ship until Nil bellowed. Nil pointed one of his gnarled fingers at Killian, eyes widening in recognition as his face turned from anger, to a smile. He laughed, opening his hands and spreading his arms as if presented with an old friend. 

Watching with a sick feeling churning in her gut, she saw Killian bow lowly. To her great horror, his wide, crooked, grin was once again back. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  The bow he gave was met by several Goblins overtaking him, beating him as they placed shackles on his arms and legs. They weighed heavily, burning against his skin. Iron. Of course it was iron; it was earth, after all. Goblins were right behind Dwarves with their affinity for earth magic, able to bend iron with ease. 

Nil walked towards him wearing a fur cape draped over his shoulders that sparkled in the dim light. Killian could see that it was a poorly crafted blend of Merscale, Selkie pelts, and varying Ansapi skins. Even despite Nil’s garish and disgusting costuming, Killian saw the faintest glimpse of Milah in the man's unsure eyes. Then, the Goblin smiled broadly, and any trace of her was wiped away. 

"You made it!" Nil bellowed, seemingly overjoyed as his guard looked on in confusion, ignoring the lifeless bodies that lay around the ship and its strange cargo pillars, marking Killian’s path. 

Killian struggled slightly, testing his bonds as they seared the flesh. "Certainly did," he hissed. 

"Where is my Queen? My radiant bride-to-be and future submitting wife?" Nil practically sang. Killian could see his mouth was wet, the too long tongue in his mouth slick with salivation. 

Killian suppressed the disgust that threatened to spill over at the prince’s language. 

The Darkness caressed his bones, tickling gently under his skin. 

Tell him. Do it. End this. 

Killian set his jaw, thinking of Emma's hand on the barrier she had created in the woods, the way her brows had pinched and lips had turned down. She had trusted him briefly, even going so far to say that he had good inside of him when she first forgave him, and to say she wished him peace when she left. 

There had been a moment when she hesitated before going into the portal, thought about looking back at him, and he had hated her for almost forgiving him again. He had hated her for so much more than her slender shoulders had ever had to bear, blamed her for so much; he’d even told her in no uncertain terms that she should suffer as Milah had. And still, she was here, looking at him with those eyes that he couldn't escape. 

No no no, you listen to me, only to me. I am your master, you are my hound to beat when it fails to bring me my kills! No, NOW LISTEN, LISTEN. END THIS. 

He couldn't stop thinking of the anger and relief when she spoke his name again upon seeing him before Ursula, the way she had dismissed him instead of making him grovel like she should have, demanding her pound of flesh for what he had put her through. The way she was glancing at him now with apprehension and fear. 

She is a weakling, full of uncontrolled emotions and too much trust that has led to her ruin. Go on, stop stalling! Hurry, hurry now, we can get the shard and - 

And giving her to Nil would end with nothing more than misery for not only her, but anyone who stood in the Goblins’ way - Royals and Fae like Marta, or the numerous scattered Fae that refused a crown once before - 

“Well?” Nil asked, laughing raucously.

Well? Give him the princess, you blithering simpleton - 

Killian cleared his throat, preparing himself. "She's dead."

What!? 

"I must have misheard you, Dark One," Nil chuckled dangerously. "Say again?" 

Yes, say AGAIN? WHAT ARE YOU DOING? END THIS. 

The Darkness tried to force its words onto his tongue, but he would not let her forgiveness by dismissal be in vain. 

ENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHISENDTHIS END THIS, GIVE HER UP 

"She's dead; she ran from me weeks ago. I found her body in a ravine, the shard dissolved to ash. I will never be freed." He spoke as bitterly as he could, channeling the hatred easily. 

"What?" the Goblin Prince screamed, enraged. "She is strong willed and has a bite to match that delectable bark, so she cannot be dead. She is like my own stolen mother, and destined for her blood to strengthen the throne. No, she cannot be dead."

You won't buy her time with this, you fool! This is inevitable, she is his and will be his like your whore was his father's. You must get the shard - 

"I assure you, she is. Even in death, she made it difficult. The ravine was deep and absolutely bloody terrible to climb into. I can't imagine falling down it was anything even she could have survived."

You will suffer for this. 

"Good," Killian whispered, mostly to himself. Emma looked at him from the remains of the net, where the Selkies were now freed from their confines. She motioned for him to stop, but he shook his head, wet strands of the shaggy mess sticking to his forehead. The Goblin Prince paced, before taking deep breaths and turning again to face Killian. 

"Then why have you come here, slaughtered my fleet, and created chaos? I've heard about your glory under my father. Did you really come here empty handed to tell me you're untethered?" Nil attempted to sound amused, but the desperate edge was heavy in his tone. There was no control there, just an angry brat brashly striking out at everyone. 

Killian put on a pedantic smile, causing Nil to immediately start shifting in his place like a child. "Why wouldn't I? I only create chaos, and with no master that means I can strike against you too. Your damnable father may not be here, but I can still hurt you," he drawled, a bit of The Darkness in his voice for finesse. 

What are you doing, what ARE YOU DOING? 

"Then you're useless to me. It's lucky I don't believe you." Nil smiled with a menacing edge. "We'll just leave you here for safekeeping until I can verify this unfortunate and convenient tragedy. My betrothed is a beautiful specimen and so strong, it's hard to believe she isn't ferreted away somewhere. Her tenacity knows no bounds, yet again like my beloved Mother. I love that fighting spirit, she will make a strong future king, as it is written." Walking to a large flat piece of iron and picking it up from the floor, the sheet rolled like paper in his glowing hands until it crafted into a large curved spike.  

There was a sharp pain in his chest as the U bend of the makeshift iron anchor broke through the skin of his back, cracking ribs. Killian groaned, falling back, but Nil was there, standing on top of the iron contraption and pushing it deeper. Pushing the other side of heavy iron through his ribcage, Killian felt the air escape his lungs in a choking rasp, forcing him to double over, while Nil gave him a hard push into the sea. 

You've killed us both you fool. I hope you're happy. 

"We don't die. I'm content to lie at the bottom of the sea if that means another does not have the same fate as Milah. I meant what I said."

You will know true agony for this. Your insolence has been a problem, but this? This you will suffer for; this you will know true pain for. 

"Aye, I'm sure of it. For now, enjoy the water for the both of us."

The dark pressure seemed endless, and the pain was constant, but it cleared his thoughts. Killian of the Blackwater, left to sit in the blackest depths forevermore. The Darkness writhed and cajoled and raged, but nothing it did could disturb his peace, the idea of penance weighing heavier than the cold, deep nothingness. 

He wondered if this was what Liam felt. The thought didn't hurt him this time. 

The anchor dragged along the sand at the bottom, drawing another sound that escaped in bubbles. More pain burned through him as his lungs filled with water. Stars lit behind his eyes, bright pops of color flashing in time with the stabs of pain. Hours passed like this, his thoughts just as full with briny water as he tried not to think about how long this torture would continue. A firework lit in his mind as the anchor hit a rock, sending reverberating shocks through his body. He wished vainly for the darkness to take him instead of the bursts of brightness. 

But no, the light would not go away. It became a pinpoint, then a glow that was warmer and more comforting than anything he thought he would know, growing to spread through him. He cracked open his eyes to see what he thought was a fierce angel, or quite possibly a nymph or siren, who swam before him encased in bright sunshine shimmers of light with a halo around her head and wearing Emma’s face. 

There was no mockery, for which he thanked the heavens; she simply lifted him, felt the iron, and dropped him suddenly. Tentacles wrapped around the thickest bend of the molded metal, wood crashing around them as the strange suction cup dotted arms yanked. Then, the weight in his chest loosened and he was flying, finally free. It was too much; he flew too high and too fast, falling just as quickly, his eyes shut tightly. 

He fell on something hard, forcing him to cough up water as he raised himself on his side. Soft hands pushed hair out of his face, and something warm crashed into him against where the iron had been. He groaned as whatever it was that had settled against him. A person? When he let out a breath, the person - yes, it was definitely a person - began hitting him.

They stopped suddenly, and after no other smacks came for several moments he opened his eyes to see Emma staring back at him with worry, concern, and anger filling her own gaze. 

"You fucking idiot!" she screamed. "You -" 

"You know that I can't die, right? I'm a survivor.” 

"You still… Even if… If you had been hurt, hurt worse than this I mean, I… Why did you do that? I had a plan, and you - you bought us so much more time, I should have let you - I should have trusted - We couldn't have done this without you, I just…" Emma swiped at her eyes. "Why would you, you absolute…" 

Trying to sit up and practically toppling them both, he groused wryly at her noise of concern. "Maybe I just needed reminding that I could be on the hero's side, or maybe I knew you would never let me get off that easy and without yelling at me, you stubborn - " 

Emma hit him lightly again, her voice laced with strained amusement and lessening terror. "Don't move. Just stop, don't move, you arrogant ass."

"Princess, you deprive me of a dashing rescue, and then add insult to injury - "

"Emma. Please, I…" She straightened her shoulders and began to laugh, his grin at her not helping. Her voice cracked when she tried to start talking, and though she cleared her throat, she could not hide the tremble. "I think, Emma is just fine. Or I quite liked when you called me Swan." 

"Hey, hey now," he soothed, and when he laid a hand on her cheek she turned her face into his palm, holding her own hand against his. Emma couldn't hold back a shaky breath as a few tears escaped, and he pulled her tightly to him. "Hey. Don't cry. I'm the one who was gravely injured. It was about time you saved me from almost drowning, even though I technically cannot. We'll count it as one to three, with me in the lead. You can't steal that too, Swan." 

Her hiccupping laugh and weak wristed smack made him snort. The wound in his back closed, the Darkness ever keeping him alive, even as it still stopped short of his hand. Finally, Killian allowed himself to look around. They were on an old style ship, a light fleet frigate possibly, with no one else in sight. It felt vaguely familiar, but so did simply being at sea. Emma shuddered against him, cold and most likely exhausted as he pressed her for details. 

"What happened to Nil's armada?" 

"Your claim that I was dead caused the Goblin Prince to throw a full-on tantrum, leaving his own ship by portal. The mages he left in charge couldn't control Triton when whittled down in numbers. By the time Nil came back with his father, Triton was free, Ursula was laying waste to anything with Goblins on board, and the Selkies were free and trying to heal their wounded while regrouping. Ursula threw us on this ship after we looked for you, and the two of them destroyed Nil’s entire armada. Nil escaped through a portal at the last second, though. I watched through your telescope." Emma blushed lightly, pulling away from him. "Ursula said this ship will mean something to you, but I don't recognize it other than it being the one we used today. It's sort of a hodge-podge of Mer-craftsmanship; a frigate, speed sloop, galleon, and tall ship all crammed together. The base and bunks seem to be mostly the galleon? It's that ship Eric pulled out of the water before -"

"Liam's ship," he breathed. "My ship."

"I thought yours was The Jewel of the Realm? This one says something about being Jolly." She pointed over the edge, and he joined her to peer over. In sloppy carved graffiti, some sea dwelling mer-miscreant had replaced the clean script of the Fae Navy with 'The Jolly Roger'. 

Killian couldn't find it in himself to be angry, instead laughing as he crossed to the stern, feeling the same breeze that his brother and he had felt, the sea immediately calming him. Emma had only made this all the better, expending any magic she hadn't used drying their supplies and the ship's hold. Once waterlogged books filled with his brother's notes were crisp and clean, and a patina worn sextant looked almost like new on a pristine desk. Opening a trunk, he found naval uniforms pressed for a day's work, closing the lid after running his fingers over the brass buttons and fringed epaulets on the shoulders. 

Then there were the other ships, the pieces of other wrecks merged to what was his, that made up the crooked interior, filled with casks and casks of glorious rum. 

He created a small fire in the tiny galley, heating it with the butter they had left, still in Ingrid's strange plastic pastel container, before joining Emma on the deck with two cups as she arranged blankets. 

"How's your hand?" Emma asked, watching him settle. 

He gave a shrug, trying to mask the fire coursing through his bent fingers. "S'fine." 

He took a heavy swig, the rum doing nothing to help the pain in his hand. Emma rolled her eyes and crawled beside him, taking his cold palm in hers. "Which means 'it hurts' in High Killian. You're truly a terrible liar."

"The Goblin believed me when I told them you were dead." 

"Barely, and I mean, case and point." Emma smirked, her magic glowing softly. 

Killian barked out a laugh, and her magic spread, his hand stopping its searing throbs. He sighed in relief, and picked up a steaming mug. 

"Any idea where we're off to?" he asked. Emma sighed wearily. 

"I haven't had much more that a moment while you looked around yourself, but I believe we’re in this general vicinity." She spread out a large map that he had not noticed, unrolling it and pinning it down with a few stones she must have found in Liam's collection. Amethyst and a chunk of bismuth glittered at each corner. Emma pointed with the ends of a navigational compass to a location in the blue defined area she had made a circle around. "The stars aren't great right now, but I remember them well enough to find the cardinal points. There was a current map where I found this, and based on the stars and our speed, I think this is our trajectory if we're seeking the closest shore to land on." She tapped a small speck on the map with the compass, some unmarked island. 

Killian raised an eyebrow, remarkably impressed. "You know marine navigation?" 

Emma shrugged, with a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Even a proper noblewoman needs hobbies."

"I'm beginning to believe that you aren't the most proper of noblewomen, Swan."

"My reputation is ruined, you'll have to seek out other debutantes to fill your season."

He was caught off guard by her quip, and laughed in surprise, her giggling joining his. He brushed a finger over one of her lines on the map. "This is going to take some time, if you're right. Have you been at sea for any length of time?" 

Emma shook her head, and sighed. "No. The sea wasn't a place for a princess." Her tone was sour, and she looked at him with the glint of irritation he'd begun to notice was present when she spoke about the ridiculous notions of the royals. 

"Well, now it seems it is." He gave her a wink, and her cheeks flushed a deep red, the rum seemingly warming her further. "We'll be in close quarters, especially with what a mess of mismatched parts below deck is. Stay off my toes, and we'll be fine."

Looking at him with a cocked head and an amused expression, she gave a mock salute while imitating his accent. "Aye aye, Captain, sir."

He grimaced, and downed his rum. The Darkness had quieted again, probably due to her close proximity and how her magic seemed to target it lately. 

Emma took another large swig of rum, her skin heating with a visible flush. Killian grinned at her, taking the mug down to pour more for them. When he handed it to her, she took another swig, seeming to savor the burn in her throat and warmth in her belly. Giggling, she let herself fall back onto the blankets they had laid across the deck. 

"The last time I was this drunk was when I kissed you," she laughed, rolling onto her side clumsily to look at him. "After we escaped Pann."

"You were much more drunk then," he laughed back before realization dawned on him. "Wait, you remember that?"

"Yeah, and you lying about it." Her grin was playful, and she laid her head down to hide half her face in the blankets. Killian felt his ears heat, and tried not to choke on anymore of the rum. "Why did you, anyway?"

"I didn't - it was obvious you were out of sorts, just…"

"Knackered? Foxed? Three shades to the wind?" Emma giggled, and when he didn't return the laugh she reached for him. "I didn't mean to upset you, I definitely shouldn't have done that. I mean, I don't regret it, because it was nice and you have nice lips and a nice face, and - " She rambled, and his eyebrow raised. She let out a groan and covered her mouth. 

"A drunken mind speaks a sober - " he chuckled awkwardly, Emma reaching to push him softly before he could finish the proverb. There was a part of him that felt strange, full of pride, while all at once wistful. 

"Shut up," she whined, her blush making her eyes more green. "We will never speak of this again."

"Not a word from my nice lips about it again, I swear it." Miming zipping his lips, Emma groaned once more, falling back into the blankets again while laughing. Her laughter, being out at sea, the rum - it was heady when mixed with the thought of the way she had felt. There was no way he could admit anything more than that to himself, let alone Emma. 

Later he checked her coordinates against the constellations, both of them looking at the stars and looking over the map by candlelight. Emma fell asleep as he began to work in silence and he coaxed her to take a pillow to lay her head on, the quiet snoring lasting for a few hours. 

She tossed and turned under the blanket, briefly scaring him with the suddenness of her flailing. 

"Emma? Are you alright?" 

"Don't touch me, please don't touch - " she startled awake, throwing her body away from his own. With hazy eyes filled with tears, Emma scrunched into her frame just as he saw her do within Ursula's realm, magic leaving her in waves. "Nil, no, please don't - "

The first few bursts of magic caught him off guard, hitting him squarely in the chest. The third he tried to roll away from as it hit his hip, the movement fully pulling her from the night terror. 

Her breathing was rapid and unsteady, as she murmured an apology, fingers twisting her hair. 

She looked exhausted, and Killian wondered again when the last time she had gotten proper rest was. Approaching carefully, he wrapped her in the blanket she had thrown off, helping her to stand. 

"Go sleep in the bunk. It will be more comfortable for you," Killian whispered, and Emma let him tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear, his skin meeting the softness of her cheek. He nodded to the hatch, helping her down the ladder until she closed the latch behind her. Sitting down on the deck to look over the maps again, he attempted to rub out the twinge in his chest that had begun to ache from where her magic had dealt its blows. 

  *✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

  The dress for the evening of this ball is beautiful, and fits her like a glove as she twirls for her father. He's happier than she has seen him in a long time, eyes crinkled at the corners, watching her like she is the most important thing in the world as she shows him the intricate crystal work that glitters in the light. 

Her mother hugs her from behind, a rare warm gesture rather than the iciness that Emma is used to in their relationship, decorum and etiquette frowning on displays of affection. The green velvet of her mother's gown smells like moss, pine, sweet grass, and fresh snow as her mother rests her head on Emma's shoulder. 

Her father twirled her again, and they're at the ball. As unsure as she is what this party commemorates, the food and drink do not disappoint, nor does the selection of dance partners. A warm set of hands covers her eyes, and she can feel the press of a person against her back but it isn't unwelcome at all. Instead she feels the roughness of his palms, stubble against her neck, warm breath in her ear, and Killian’s voice. 

"I have a surprise for you, darling," he whispers, and Emma feels her stomach flip like it had once with Graham. To her surprise, she feels trust and a sense of peace that he is with her here, and grins at his gift. The music goes silent in the ballroom, along with the guests, as if a great breath has snuffed everything out. "No peeking now…" Killian’s hands fall away and she screws her eyes tightly shut. 

A finger traces her exposed spine, and she giggles, the nail sharp against her skin while feathers soften its trail. Although not completely unpleasant, it feels off the longer and further it goes, and she shivers as she leans away from the touch. The person behind her wraps their arms around her tightly, making it impossible to move while trailing their nails down her exposed skin. Emma struggles, and she feels a sickeningly familiar giggle rumble through the chest against her back. 

This wasn't Killian any longer. She keeps her eyes shut, trying to wish away the sour smelling breath against the junction of her throat. 

"Open your eyes, my beautiful wife, my queen to rival all queens. Open your eyes and behold my gift to you," Nil hisses, dragging his tongue along her shoulder blade. 

Despite trying to clench her eyes shut with everything in her power, they are forced open to the light of the ballroom, twinkling lights that briefly blind then illuminate the bodies on the patterned floor. Crimson puddles lay around the courtiers as they themselves laid too still, livery soaking up the blood. Emma lets out a cry, running and slipping in the pools, her skirts and slippers filling with wet warmth, the taste of copper on her tongue. 

Her parents slumped in their thrones, eyes and mouths open too wide, and Emma hears herself now as she chokes out moans, her voice too small but so loud in the silence that permeates in the absence of life. From behind her father's throne, Killian appears, his hands and face drenched in the same red that blooms from her parents necks while he wipes his sword on his waistcoat. 

His face contorts in a sinister grin that only widens when he catches her horrified gaze, his eyes flickering to the floor. His eyes that are terribly, and awfully sad. 

Emma turns back to Nil, his smile akin to Killian’s own, the dagger in his grip as Killian takes a place slightly behind him like a prostrate lap dog. Emma shakes her head, falling to her knees. 

"Do you not like my gift, my radiant queen? I wanted something that left an impression as your last sight before the Darkness of your new life begins." Nil cocks his head, moving to her to lift her chin. Emma feels tears stream down her cheeks. "You will learn to love the Darkness, just as you will learn to love me, and love what I have done for you. Come, wife. Come."

The ballroom disappears around her as the world goes black, the floor falling away to leave her tumbling into the abyss. She lands on a soft surface, hands scrambling to feel around and escape. Her arms tangle in silken sheets as pillows, down, and bedding seemed to hold her, realizing she's landed in a bed that is not her own. The bedding fabric tightens around her wrists and ankles, forcing her body into a prone position, forcing her into a vulnerable position, even as she struggles in the dark. A rustling catches her attention, her body tense as she tries to place where the noise came from. She could see nothing in the gloom, no matter how much she tried. Nil's voice slithered through the murk. 

"You're home now, my magnificent queen. Home and safely held, to get you acclimated to life here, to the absence of light." The sound of fabric falling to the ground came from her left, followed by dragging footsteps echoing across the space, Emma's breath coming in panicked gasps. 

She feels the creak of the bed near her feet, a knee against her calf as a feathered hand slid up her thigh. Emma pleads for him to stop, desperately trying to get away from his touch. 

Nil's voice is silky against her hip. "You'll get used to this too, not that I mind. Fighting makes a better future king."

Screams ripped from her throat and he pulled away, hissing at the noise. "Dark One! Hold her mouth silent!"

Killian appears through the darkness, leaning over her as she begs and pleads for this to stop. His eyes glow blue, and they are still so sad as his hand covers her mouth, muffling her voice. He looks close to tears, like he's breaking himself, his hand trembling against her lips while he tries to comfort her even as Nil returns to her thigh.

"Emma, I'm so sorry, Emma, shhhhh, please." The room grows brighter, his eyes are brighter and he is clenching his jaw in fury. Emma can feel the light coming back, but Nil's hands press on, too close to where they should never be, and her begging gets louder along with Killian’s voice right above her, "Emma, are you alright?" 

And no, she isn't, but the room is gone and he's saved her, eyes blue in her blurry vision - 

Waking up in terror after the rum had worn off, Emma had hoped for more sleep, but even the alcohol was unable to combat her nightmare on the deck. The dream continued to plague her, pieces of it making her breath catch until it fades. Killian was in her dreams more frequently since his return, both ambivalent and malicious in each turn. Killian had helped her down into those chambers, and although she still was slightly hazy, it was a welcome change. 

It was odd to be in the room of a person that had changed into a stranger inside his own skin, the remaining discarded bits of what was a life scattered in disarray. Lighting a candle, she looked at the open trunk and the uniform placed reverently over a desk chair, letting her fingers run along the buttons and brush the fringe of the epaulets. The books she had pulled earlier were still out, and she opened dog eared pages, surprised by the different sets of handwriting in the margins.

Sturdy, block text that reminded her of laws and bills that her parents had to sign underlined passages, while a flowery script poked fun at those footnotes. The flowery text seemed to enjoy more poetry and philosophy, which the block text had teased heavily. Based on what she knew, Liam and Killian respectively were the authors, Killian’s text much more chaotic and flamboyant. Another hand's script had joined later, letters beautiful and words softly pushed together. It wrote love notes in the corners, or bracketed passages, occasionally a watercolor picture left tucked neatly in the pages where they wrote paragraphs. Milah, Emma assumed. 

Killian had once painted, she discovered after finding a ribbon bound stack of his work. Pictures of Milah were his main focus, then the water, landscapes, and animals. His work was humorous and surreal on occasion too, and Emma wondered what that man had been like, before everything happened. He had been different then, and it made her feel anxious and vulnerable to wonder if that man was still buried somewhere within the tortured soul she now kept company with. 

Stripping to her shift to combat the last of summer's heat, she laid down on the bunk, surprised at the luxurious nature of the bedding. Here in the cabin, she could better hear the water, waves rocking the ship. Later, she heard his footfalls, opening her eyes briefly as he whispered that she was alright, stroking her hair gently. 

Emma could feel the remnants of the dream, the same as before and the same that had haunted her since she had found herself in Ursula's domain. He kept on with his soothing until the tension in her shoulders fell away, the traced patterns against her scalp in sync with the waves. The ghost of the old Killian still remained, she mused smiling sleepily, the one she could trust. She fell immediately back to sleep, resting for the first time in weeks and dreaming of home. 

[scifinal]

DW s12e10: It's Quite Unfortunate That This Child Keeps On Regenerating

It's only fitting that the first post on a blog called "SciFinal" should be about a season finale.

Not that fitting is the fact that in said post I'm going to begin where it all started for me.

Part One: How I Even Got into This Mess of a Show in the First Place

While I call myself a huge Doctor Who fan, even a – *gasp* – Whovian, I must admit I am not as familiar with the franchise as I would like to be; I've seen the new show, I've seen Torchwood (though, admittedly, I had to force myself to finish the fourth season – but that's a story for another day), I've listened to a handful of audio dramas (including Kaldor City, which I consider to be canon for both DW and Blake's 7) – mostly Torchwood audio dramas, but who cares, – I've read a couple of comics, I've got a novel or two somewhere on my bookshelf, I've seen the first couple of seasons of the classic show, but that's about it. I can't say I grew up with it – it wasn't on TV when I was a kid, there isn't an official Ukrainian dub, et cetera, et cetera. I first heard about it when I was about thirteen, when my classmate did a project about something they liked – and was pretty dismissive of my peers' hobbies at the time, believing myself to be somewhat above them, so I didn't pay much attention.

Then somebody finally pressured me into watching it (I believe I was fifteen or something back then) and I loved it. The first two episodes of the first season, I mean. I watched those, texted my friend something like "consider me a Whovian now!" and abandoned the show completely only to return to it maybe several years later.

I loved it. This time, for real.

Doctor Who has been with me ever since that time, it has a big soft spot reserved for each and every Doctor ever in my heart, and for each and every companion. I know full well it's cheesy, and it's stupid, and it's technobabble-y, and it's glorious in all of its cheesy technobabble-y stupidity.

And I hate this finale.

Part Two: Doctor, Why

I hate this finale – because I hate Chris Chibnall. Mind you, not the gentleman himself (I don't even know what he looks like, and I can't be bothered to Google), I hate what he did to Doctor Who.

Now, when it was revealed that the would replace Steven Moffat I felt... nothing. What did you expect? I had no idea who the man was. I know now he's made Broadchurch, and I know he wrote a bunch of stuff for Torchwood back in the day, including Cyberwoman. I had to drop Broadchurch because of how well-handled the depressing atmosphere was, and I love the flawed, dumb, sexy-cyber-bikinied, almost-fifteen-minutes-of-Ianto's-whining-including (I know because some time ago I literally cut almost every single moment of Gareth David-Lloyd whimpering, moaning, groaning, screaming, and mugging at the camera out of the episode and made those bits and pieces into a beautiful clip show called "I HATE THIS" to explain exactly why his face was and still is so punchable) mindless fun that is Cyberwoman (this is also one of the two episodes in which they actually do something fun with the pterodactyl living inside Torchwood's underground base). The latter also led to the creation of one amazing in how it develops Ianto's character audio drama entitled "Broken". I love Broken. I am now forcing you to look at its cover because of how much I love it.

Here we go. Now, back to the point of me rambling pointlessly

In his video "Sherlock Is Garbage, and Here's Why", a well-known YouTuber hbomberguy pointed out how Steven Moffat's problem is that he is more than capable of writing a good one-off episodes, but ultimately fails at managing multiple complex, overarching stories, as visible when you look at the difference between Moffat's individual episodes and his run on the show.

Now, I believe that Chris Chibnall suffers from the same affliction: he's a good screenwriter but a terrible, terrible showrunner. Sure, he's made Broadchurch, but Broadchurch, in its essence, was a complete singular story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. There were no bigger, incomplete arcs expanding at the expense of other episodes, and the show did exactly what it was originally designed to do: it told an uninterrupted story.

Here comes Chris Chibnall's run on Doctor Who.

Now, while Steven Moffat was ultimately not very good at managing overarching stories, he tried to do so nonetheless, and the fans seemed to like his attempts. And while I can't be sure as to whether it was Chris' original vision for the show or he and his co-writers were merely trying to emulate Moffat, he attempted the same. A friend of mine has even pointed out how, to her, it was painfully obvious how the writers of the finale were desperately trying to copy Moffat's style (to give you some context, she grasped it from a 30-second clip of the CyberMasters' reveal, and that clip basically consisted of me filming my laptop's screen and laughing at their design, making the video wobbly and the audio distorted). At the time of writing this post this friend hasn't seen a single episode of Chibnall's era and, as far as I know, has no wish to do so – mainly because of two reasons that both have something to do with the finale:

Somebody's already spoiled it for her, so who cares;

I ranted to her about how shit this finale is and now she hates everything about Chibnall era.

I am very sorry for the latter, since I genuinely believe there are some nice episodes in these seasons, and I especially like the "historical" ones, they really are quite a lot of fun, I like Nikola Tesla and Thomas Edison fighting badly CG-ed alien scorpions, I love Lord Byron and Mary Shelley running around a haunted house trying to escape from a Cyberman (even though it's all too similar to the Agatha Christie episode from Russel T Davies' run), I adore that episode about Rosa P–– oh, wait, no, that one was crap and ripped off Blake's 7... Anyway, I love Jodie Whittaker's Doctor, I am a big fan of Graham, I like Ryan just fine, and I can put up with Yaz, even though it's been two seasons and I've still got no idea what's her personality supposed to be, and I absolutely love the new Master (he reminds me of a cute little pug with a big Tommy gun). There is plenty of good stuff in these two seasons, they are lots of fun to watch, but this finale... Oh god, this finale.

Part Three: We Had All of Time and Space at Our Fingertips and We Ended Up with This

We are getting to the point of this whole thing. I would love to begin with the obvious, the twist, but there's so much wrong with this who-cares-how-many-parter than this one big thing.

It is inept. It is impotent. It is incompetent. It is bad at almost everything except its okay camera work, somewhat good (for a British TV show, I mean) effects, and its really solid performances.

Its editing is tone-deaf to the extreme. There is a moment in the final episode where Ko Sharmas asks who will be the first to cross the Boundary and step into the unknown, and immediately it cuts to Yaz walking towards it, all fast and silent. I would love to show you a clip of it, but I don't have one and I can't force myself to download the episode and sit through this shitshow again just to present you with a ten-second clip. Nonetheless, that part is not edited like a dramatic moment. You edit comedies this way. Bad comedies. Bad editors edit bad comedies this way.

Its plot is incoherent. There are several plot threads in this finale, and they're managed in a way that doesn't make the viewer care about all of them at the same time, rather the viewer goes "oh, I've completely forgotten this was happening" and then, before they can even begin to care, the show cuts to something else. It's all over the place and oh so annoying.

The plot armour is painfully obvious despite every attempt to disguise it. There wasn't a single, solitary second when I believed the Doctor was really going to sacrifice herself and, lo and behold, here comes the old guy ex machina to do it for her. The only questions I was asking at that moment were "How are the writers going to prevent the Doctor's death now that they've seemingly created themselves a way to go on forever?" and "How can Whittaker care so much about her performance in this scene she's literally almost crying?". I wholeheartedly related to the Master asking "So why are we still here?" and shout–– hiss–– mumbl–– whatever-ing "Come on, come on, come on!" – at that point I've suffered through at least forty-five minutes of utter nonsense, people going preachy, religious Cybermen with Dalek motivations, that absolutely ludicrous scene in the previous episode when the show was trying its worst to make me perceive autonomous flying Cyber-heads with laser eyes as a serious threat, a shit twist and... Oh.

I've got to finally touch on the shit twist, haven't I?

It doesn't make sense. No, I mean it. I guess it makes sense from the show's writers' standpoint to retcon everything in a way that would allow them to go on forever without having to come up with a way to circumvent limited regenerations, yes. And I won't be touching upon all the lore people say this twist has ruined. No. It doesn't make sense as it is.

The twist is revealed to us by a madman that claims to have hacked into a database, claims to possess control over the Doctor's mind, and gives the Doctor and the audience no actual solid proof that the Timeless Child is, indeed, the Doctor. We have Ruth, sure, and she's nice enough (damn, I want that vest), and she's a Timelord that happens to own a TARDIS that looks like a blue police telephone box, and she calls herself the Doctor. Here's Ruth:

I really like Ruth. She also makes no sense from the show's timeline standpoint, since the Doctor's Type 40 TARDIS only got stuck looking like a police box in 1963, so there's no reason for the Doctor to not remember being her.

We also know that the Judoon have identified Ruth as "the Fugitive"... except in one of their previous appearances in the show they weren't able to identify their targets exactly and thus were seeking out non-humans. There is a possibility that they were only looking for a Time Lord on Earth.

You know what? It's possible that Ruth is actually the Master messing with the Doctor. I have just as much proof of this as I have of the fact that the Doctor is some kind of an endlessly regenerating superbeing.

But this is not the most maddening thing here. I loathe it, but I don't loathe the twist itself: I loathe its lifelessness, I loathe how empty, how unemotional, almost robotic it feels. When somebody'd spoiled the finale for me, I got angry, and I started asking questions, and when later I saw the actual thing...

This gif. I can't even explain how accurate it is. I stood there, in the middle of my kitchen, episode paused, holding a cup of cold tea and desperately looking around as if in my surroundings I could somehow find that emotional reaction that this show failed to evoke. I was ready to burst into tears of how empty it felt, and how empty I felt, and how the same show that has Christopher Eccleston go from literally foaming at the mouth with pure hatred to shocked silence in a matter of second because of one sentence that you, a viewer, can't help but be astonished by failed to make me feel the tiniest speck of literally any emotion. And slowly, I felt that vast void in my chest fill with sheer, pure, flaming hatred for the person who made me feel nothing, for the story that left me not bored – but empty.

And the next moment, in its own unique way of being absolutely tone-deaf, the show introduces the CyberMasters, looking ridiculous, being asinine in concept, making me burst into laughter with their dumb design. Wow.

So.

Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who is no longer a show. Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who isn't even, as somebody on Stardust said, a fan fiction. It's a rollercoaster. A lackluster rollercoaster that lifts you from the vast caverns of frozen hell, devoid of any life whatsoever, soulless and abandoned, to the heavenly torture of being so bad, so utterly awful and ridiculous, that you can't help but laugh as you watch something you used to love be distorted and deformed to the point where you can't recognise it anymore nor really care. This is what Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who has become. And I'm going to continue my ride on that grotesque rollercoaster. I'm going to pirate that ride and get on it again. Because I'm a masochist. Because I want to feel something, even if it's hatred towards those that make me feel nothing.

Because some time ago my fifteen-year-old self watched the first season and learned a lesson that I hold dear after all these years – that I can't abandon hope, and that someday, somehow, things are going to get better. That the future is being written right now. That the future can change.

[angelofthenightposts]

Broken Heart.// Ch.6

Bill is ready for the next stage of his life after reaching the happy life he can be with the people he loves and the successful career he has always dreamed of. Marrying his fiancé, Alida. But it all takes an unexpected turn when he asks his wedding planner friend, Y/N, to help plan their wedding.

Series Masterlist || My Masterlist.

6 years later, in New York.

“Alex then ran down the slide, chasing me all over the place. You should have seen how fast I flew away from him, Uncle. Like Flash... Hey, you’re not paying attention to what I'm saying!” Bill pulls to a stop at a red light and returns his gaze to the child in the backseat in the rearview mirror. Felix's brows furrow into a deep frown, and his backpack is on the seat next to his jacket. And Bill resents himself for letting him believe he was the worst uncle ever.

His sister, Eija, needed to run some errands, so he had to drop his nephew off at kindergarten. He doesn't mind waking up early or driving in this crowded neighborhood. However, Felix can talk 30,000 thousand words every day, which is a lot for someone like Bill.

Of course, he continues to spend time with his family and hang out with his siblings, but it is well known that Bill has become more reserved, and this new persona has an effect on others around him. People criticized him at first, believing that his best days were behind him. He is happy with the fact that he does not appear on the front pages of magazines.

As he presses the gas pedal and clears his throat, he adds, "No, buddy.  Tell me about what happened after that.” 

“It's all right.”

He wants to tell Felix how tiring the last film he worked on was, but he knows his nephew won't comprehend how hard his profession can be. “I am sorry, Felix. I couldn't get a good night's sleep."

“Did the monsters frighten you, too?”

“No, buddy, I just had the worst nightmare of my life. Wait, did you mention the monsters were bothering you?" Bill is amused by his vivid imagination. The tiny child brings up the monsters the next day after they watch a science fiction film together. Bill lost count of the number of times he had to check under his bed to see if there is any monster.

"Yes, but Mommy said the tooth fairy would speak with them and they wouldn't annoy me any longer." He takes a sip from his portable coffee mug, which is already warming him up.

“Your mother is a wise lady.”

“Yes, but she also called you a fool for leaving her. Last night, I heard her saying it to my father."  Bill groans in his seat and turns on the music. He's completely aware of who Eija was referring to. It's been six years and h e's surprised that his family hasn't forgotten about it.

"Don't even think about it right now. So, do you have a girlfriend?"

For a brief moment, Bill feels like an elderly lady; every time he sees his grandmother in Sweden, she asks the same question. When are you going to get married?  He is now thirty-two years old, and the members of his family are still hopeful that he will marry one day. Bill, contrary to what his family believes, is fully justified. He has been able to advance his profession to a point where he is receiving more and more movie offers on a daily basis. He's also fine with his family. When he realized he couldn't live in LA any longer, he moved to New York. Eija and her husband, Sam, married a few months after Bill moved in, and they currently live in the same city as Bill. Other Skarsgard siblings frequently visit the city, and a weekend stay is a great way to catch up. 

"Yes. Her name is Aria. Her hair is black, and she has huge green eyes. Uncle Bill, my heart beats harder every time she looks at me." He chuckles and casts a glance behind him at his nephew. Felix's desire for green eyes is so ironic. Isn't he the one who, a few weeks earlier, despised his own green eyes and desired blue eyes like Captain America's?

"Oh, does she like you back?" Felix bounces around in his seat, a broad smile on his face.

"She gives me the half of her lunch and I give her some of my fruits.. Alex always asks for it, too but she doesn't share with him.” Bill pulls his car to the left and joins the line of people waiting to drop off the children. Teachers stand on the sidewalk, one by one assisting the kids in exiting their vehicles.  When he notices the lengthy row, he unbuckles his seatbelt and turns his body to the backseat.

"I think Alex likes Aria as well, buddy.”

Felix thinks for a moment, resting his chin in his palm and tapping his smooth cheek with his finger. “However, I don't believe Aria likes him. He's rude and mean. I am following Uncle Valter's advice. Every morning I tell her that she looks nice.  She laughs and hands me one of her sweets. Oh, and her birthday is this Sunday, and I'm invited.  Uncle Bill, do you mind if we go to the mall and buy a present together?"

How can he refuse his adorable tiny face? Plus, he doesn't have anything better to do because no one is expecting him at his home. So he gives Felix a nod and sits there watching a young teacher open the back door of a black car in front of them. The teacher takes up a young child in the backseat and assists her in exiting the vehicle. The strawberry-dressed girl waves her hand at the driver, most likely to her parent.

The little girl blows a kiss and walks away. Felix exclaims in his seat, his nose pressed against the left-hand window, pointing at her. “Look, that's her! Aria."

But before Bill can respond, Felix's teacher returns and opens the back door, greeting him, "Good morning, Mr Skarsgard.  Hello, Felix. How are you today?"

"“Good morning and Eija has a few things on her to-do list for today."Bill frowns and casts a glance at his nephew, as he can clearly see something disturbs her,   ”Is there an issue?” 

“It is nothing to worry about; she just has to sign paperwork for a class trip this Friday. But she informed me that you can sign it instead. ”

“Of course, I'll park my car and meet you in your office.”

//xxx//

Bill checks his watch as he drives his car to the address his sister gave him on a Sunday afternoon. The celebration has already begun; if Felix had not insisted so strongly, he would not have attended. But he recalls the small man pleading with him to come over for even an hour, and he believes it has something to do with him being Pennywise and his famous uncle. Bill parks his car next to other cars and looks outside when the GPS confirms that he has arrived at the destination. He expected the party to be held at the house, but Aria's parents clearly believe that being outside in the warm weather is preferable. He reaches for the gift he bought for the birthday girl in the backseat and exits his car.

He can understand why the park is a good option; it is full of children who are playing and laughing. His gaze is drawn to his sister, who is sitting and speaking with a group of people. She leaps to her feet and walks up to him, meeting in the middle. “Bill, I didn't expect you'd show up. Thank you; Felix will be thrilled to see you. Come in, and I'll introduce you to the others.”

“Actually, the birthday girl herself invited me. On her special day, I didn't want to upset her.” Bill walks with his sister to the other parents and fills himself a fresh cup of lemonade. He extends greetings to all and shakes the hands of some of the parents. He looks around and frowns when he can’t find Aria in nowhere. “Where is she?”

" Who? Aria? Poor thing lost a necklace that her mother had given her as a gift. Everyone was terrified, and I believe she is looking for it with her mother. Look, she's right there." Bill moves his head in the direction of Eija's pointing finger. 

“I'm going to say hello to her.” Eija nods, and Bill walks away from the gathering to join the birthday girl. "Aria, hello.”

She doesn't even acknowledge Bill's presence, let alone greet her back. Bill notices her tears on her face, and his heart sinks. He pulls Aria back and holds her in his arms the instant she walks into the scratchy bushes. "What are you doing? It's too risky; you could have been hurt.”

"I'm looking for my necklace," she says but her tone of voice is the clearest indication that she could cry at any moment. He stares at her as she continues to play with the fabric of his sweater. “It was a birthday gift from my mom. She told me I could have it if I behaved properly. But I've lost it now."

Bill gives her a warm smile and gently strokes her cheek with his thumb. “Don't worry about it, okay? I'll help you in finding it.”

“Bill, it's a very special necklace for me. My father had given it to my mother as a present."

“All right, if it's that important,” Bill says as he holds her and goes alongside the shrubs Aria was eyeing; he takes great care not to drop her. His eyes scan the ground, but the necklace is nowhere to be found.

“Aria!”

When he hears a voice he hasn't heard in years, he holds his breath and slowly turns his head to the left. You're standing just a few feet away from him. When your eyes contact his, they widen. The small child in his arms stares at you and makes an attempt to get away. Fortunately, Bill's stunned body let Aria's feet get on the ground effortlessly and she runs into your arms, saying, "Mommy, I can't find my necklace."