#remind me to never get rid of it no matter how badly i think i want to

[star-ocean-peahen]

After watching Cinderella (the original animated movie, which was my favorite as a child), it strikes me how it solves many common problems people have with this fairy tale. Like:

Why did they try to identify the mystery girl using her shoe size? Because the bullheaded king's only clue to her identity was the shoe the Grand Duke picked up off the steps.

Why didn't the prince recognize her by her face? Because his father wouldn't involve him in the process at all, and wasn't the one going around trying to find her.

Why did the prince want to marry a lady he only met that night? Because his father was going to force him to marry someone, and he genuinely liked this woman.

Why did Cinderella want to marry a man she only met that night? Because marriage was her best and most secure way to freedom. Fucked up, but you can't say it's unrealistic for the setting of a fairy tale. She also genuinely liked him.

If they're using the slipper to find her, wouldn't it be more sensible to search for the person with the other slipper? Yes. The King is purposefully nonsensical and the Duke is purposefully terrified enough of him to carry out his orders to the letter. Furthermore, they end up doing that in the end anyway, because the Duke's glass slipper is shattered, and Cinderella brings out the one she has to prove her identity.

Why didn't the stepmother and stepsisters recognize Cinderella at the ball? Because they were dancing too far away, and then left the party to dance in private, which was possible because the King wanted very badly for his son to hit it off with someone and tried to arrange the best conditions for that to happen.

Why didn't Cinderella save herself? Because in real life, abuse victims should not have to shoulder that responsibility, and usually can't. In real life, you need and deserve an external support system. Asking for help, in this kind of situation, is very important. She is saved by others because she is loved. Because she is not alone. Because she has friends who love her, and want her to be happy and safe and free. Because in real life, people who want to help someone who is suffering are like the mice. We can't pull out miracle solutions, but we can provide companionship and if we're in the right place at the right time, we can help the person find a better life.

Why didn't the fairy godmother save Cinderella from her abusive household, or try to help her sooner? Because she's magic, and magic can't solve your problems. Quote: "Like all dreams, well, I'm afraid it can't last forever." This (and Cinderella's dream of going to the ball) is a metaphor for pleasurable things in bad circumstances. An ice cream won't get rid of your depression, but it will provide you with momentary happiness to bolster you, as well as the reminder that happiness in general is still possible for you. Cinderella doesn't want to go to the ball so she can get away from her stepmother and stepsisters, or so she can meet someone to marry and leave with. She wants to go to the ball to remind herself that she can still have things she wants. That her desires matter. This is important because the movie does a very good job of illustrating Lady Tremaine's subtle abuse tactics, all of which invisibly press the message that Cinderella doesn't matter. While going to the ball and fulfilling her dreams may not be a victory in the material sense, it is still a victory against Lady Tremaine's efforts.

Why is Cinderella's choice to be kind and obedient framed as a good thing, when you are not obligated to be kind to your abuser? This one walks a very fine line, but I think the movie still makes it make sense. Lady Tremaine never acknowledges her cruelty. She always frames her punishments of Cinderella as Cinderella's fault. Cinderella is interrupting, Cinderella is shirking her duties, Cinderella is playing vicious practical jokes. Cinderella is still a member of the family, of course she can go to the ball, provided she meet these impossible conditions. Lady Tremaine's tactics are designed to make Cinderella feel like she must always be in the wrong and her stepmother must always be in the right. If Cinderella calls her stepmother out on her cruelty, or attempts to fight back, Lady Tremaine can frame that as Cinderella being ungrateful, cruel, broken, evil, etc. If Cinderella responds to her stepmother's cruelty defiantly (in the way she's justified to), she's not taking control out of Lady Tremaine's hands. Disobedience can be spun back into her stepmother's control. She wants Cinderella to be angry and sad and show how much she's hurting. So since Cinderella is adapting to her situation, she chooses to be kind. Not only because she naturally wants to be and it's part of her personality, but because it is a form of defiance in its own way, and it allows her to keep a reminder of her agency and value. Her choice to be kind is her chance to keep her own narrative alive: she is not obeying because her stepmother wants her to and she has to do what her stepmother does, but because she wants to. It's a small distinction, but one that makes all the difference in terms of keeping her hope and identity. (Fuck, I wrote a whole paragraph about how this doesn't mean you can't be angry at people who hurt you or that you need to be kind to deserve help, and then deleted it by accident. Uh. Try again.) Expressing anger and pain is an important part of regaining autonomy and healing. Although it is commendable to be kind while you are suffering, it is NOT required for you to get help or be worthy of help. If Cinderella's recovery was explored beyond "happily ever after" she would need to let herself be angry and sad to heal. Cinderella is not only kind because it comes naturally to her, but because it's her defense against the abuse she's suffering. Everyone's story and experiences are different, and one does not invalidate the other.

Bonus round for answers that aren't part of the movie:

Why didn't Cinderella run away? Where would she go? Genuinely, in hundreds-of-years-ago France, where would she go if she snuck out of the window with a change of clothes? With her step-family, she's miserable and abused, but she's fed, clothed, and in no danger of dying or being taken advantage of by anyone other than her stepmother and stepsisters. Even if she escapes and manages to find financial security, her stepmother might be able to find her and get her back.

Why didn't Cinderella burn the house down with them inside it/slit their throats in the night/poison their food/etc.? Because that's a revenge fantasy, and this story is a fantasy about being saved. There's nothing wrong with making Cinderella into a revenge fantasy. That's perfectly fine, as long as you acknowledge that the other type of fantasy is also a valid interpretation. (I mean, the original fairy tale features the stepsisters getting their feet mutilated and all three of them getting their eyes pecked out, so go for it.)

Why isn't Cinderella more proactive in general? Because she's a child who has been abused for the back half of her life, who has had to be focused on survival because. you know. she's an abused kid.

How did she dance in glass slippers? Gotta agree with you there man, that's weird.

[annacory-blog]

Dance or die

I fell in love with another fic by @ulysses000 and then Spotify provided me with a perfect song. I had to draw them to exorcise that image from my head.

As per tradition - below is my attempt in translation. I want to make complete translation so badly (this is probably one third)! I believe this story deserves more attention. But can some kind English speaker confirm it is readable???

Love this fic specially from WoD perspective, it cultivates such delicious feeling of emptiness. And while technically, it has a happy end, you can not get rid of bitter taste of loss. Their requiem is not life, and there no way back. All is gone!

—————————————————-

Music stops abruptly. The dancefloor is silent, mob looks around in bewilderment. All eyes are focused on a flimsy, dirty stage. There, litten by sophites, stands brunette, cladded in a black robe. Calmly she re-adjusts many necklaces and bracelets, adorning her bosom and wrists. She checks microphone, softly tapping it with elegant finger, nonplussed by screeching sound it makes or the yells thrown her way from down the stage. For a while she silently stares in the drunk faces below, until eventually rowdy voices are reduced to quiet, unhappy mumble in the back rows.

-"What would you like to say, before the end of the world?"

-"Go fuck yourself!" - someone yells back from the crowd. Brunette’s smiles softly. Her blue eyes sparkle. This sight will be their last before headless body collapses to the floor.

View from the stage is absolutely terrific. It reminds of a late spring evening in the mansion by the sea. Bodies sway in panic, almost as grass would in a lush fields. Writings on the wall glitter with red as if they were remnants of the sunset caught in clouds. Screams - voices of seagulls. Sweet aroma that spreads across the room reminds of freshly brewed Irish coffee. Eyes locked on the bright fountains. Droplets shimmer in the air with a multitude of colour. Content. Do not argue with Mother. It is a simple rule every kid should know. Because, no matter how kind, gentle and understanding Mother is, she is not all sweets and praises. She also has an iron glove to treat the unruly child. Anyone who dares to confront her will surely drown in their own blood.

-"Now, dance or die."

Music never heard in this walls engulfs space. Stirring voice of the violin is echoed by screams, cello is perfectly complimented by heart-rending howls. Robin is not at all surprised by this harmony of cries and choir chanting. Clocks have just reached zero and this means, time for celebration has finally come. Perfect night to forge a timeless bond between the beloved child and the dear friend. Trafalgar stands on the stage, as if he always was there. Pity no one minds what is happening in the spotlight. He looks tidier than usual, ceremonial. Shirt, tie, three piece suit, shoes - all in various shades of black, all fitted perfectly. His gaze briefly stops on the couple of cadavers lying by the stage, then moves to the brunette.

-"Playing with food, aren’t we?"

-"Tarao, symbolism never was one of your strengths." - She smiles softly and shakes her head, - "Don’t try to grasp, what is beyond you. Just think of it as a cog in the well oiled machine."

Flowers on wreath along the walls move, as if troubled by the gust of wind, candle lights flicker, and blond man appears by Robin’s side. Sanji fiddles with the hem of his suit anxiously, fixes invisible wrinkles on the bouquet wrap. Trafalgar thought he put more than enough efforts to look decent tonight, however he wouldn’t stand a chance if this was a competition. Sanji's clan has been know for this aura of perfection, but even among his kin - he is special. Where the rest emmit light of the full moon, Sanji’s light would blind you as hot summer sun in zenith. He holds ten white roses - stark contract against his black suit. Pale of petals resonates with pale of the skin, highlights the gold of his hair. Trafalgar cannot possibly look away and no disciplines are to blame for this magic. Little smile slips from under his control “this is beautiful” he thinks.

-"Sorry for being late" - blond tuck one long golden lock behind the ear. Eyes drift towards the dance floor, but do not linger there. Woman chuckles softly - so innocent.

-"I was worried you made your escape."

-"Please, don’t ruin the moment" - gaze of his blue eyes seems to be glued to the wooden planks of the stage, then he looks up, eyes meet with Robin’s.

They nod, almost simultaneously, and only after Sanji musters enough of courage to look to the other man. His gaze shamelessly devours all the minute details he can grasp, it is hard to tell, if he desperately tries to avert attention from the bloodbath on the dance floor, or genuinely admires the sight. Trafalgar thinks he would be happy with both reasonings. Laws lips move soundlessly forming few words. Sanji chuckles and replies in the same manner: “you too, idiot”.

-"Ladies and Gentlemen." - maybe a dozen of eyes flicker back in response to sweet, calm voice of the woman. Short break taken from tormenting the flesh, generously soaked with blood and tears. Bodies contort with the fear for their life. - "Tonight, before the Dark Mother’s eyes, souls of two cursed sons of hers will be united. Every kindred present here shall witness the making of endless, mutual death." - her eyes run across the dance floor, reading the mood of the guests. - "the Vinculum should not be broken. Anyone who dares an attempt to weaken the bond will be hunted by The Circle of the Crone," - she looks for a moment into particularly dark corner - "as well as by our brothers and sisters from Ordo Dracul."

Her gaze shifts to the dark haired man, waiting for him to return the attention.

-"Now you can speak your vows."

Trafalgar makes a step forward, reaches to touch cold pale fingers, swallows heavily before he starts to speak.

-"I, Trafalgar D Water Law, hereby take Vinsmoke Sanji into my Requiem forever." - envelops his hand gently and carefully - "I swear before all that is holy and all that is unholy that we, tonight, seal our fates by bonds of dedication and honor. When my partner is hungry, I will bring food." - Sanji chuckles quite and bright - "When my partner sleeps, I will watch and bear witness upon waking." - He squints, eyes slit, as if targeted by bright lamp. - "When my partner is afraid, I will give comfort, and when my partner is wronged, I will have vengeance." - Cool fingers caress back side of the hand. - "This I swear on the blood, and the flame and the spirit."

In his blue eyes flashing light reflects, candles burning twice as bright with the last spoken words. Law squises cold hand, trying to reassure, give comfort, prevent flashes from setting kindred's mind aflame.

-"I, Vinsmoke Sanji, hereby take Trafalgar D Water Law into my Requiem forever." - his voice sweetest thing that ever touched ears, in both life and un-life, - "I swear before all that is holy and all that is unholy that we, tonight, seal our fates by bonds of dedication and honor." - His fleeting touch playfully skims through tan fingers, icy sensation brings sober clarity and bliss of inebriation at the same time. - "When my partner is hungry, I will bring food." - Law’s smile is barely there. - "When my partner sleeps, I will watch and bear witness upon waking. When my partner is afraid, I will give comfort," - he is the most gentle and kindhearted, so much is obvious in every syllable of every word. - "And when my partner is wronged, I will have vengeance. This I swear on the blood, and the flame and the spirit."

Sanji’s hold on the hand gets firmer as he expects another rise of firy glow to radiate the room. Little girl steps forward from behind the stage, she is silent and obedient. So small, seven years at most, her deep chocolate eyes glazed with indifference, strawberry blond hair braided in two pig tales, white gown hugs fragile figure. She stares ahead absently, woman’s hands leading her by shoulders.

-"Time to make the sacrifice." - hand outstretched to pass the ritual knife. Fingers gently support ragged blade.

Trafalgar feels how kindred’s claws pierce his skin. He might have broken few bones, if older wouldn’t strengthen his grip in response. It is heard for Sanji. This is easily seen, his eyes shift frantically, his lips stripped of smile and crooked. Even his touch feels colder than before. He never have taken the life of a sentient being. Even in death Sanji remained pure, his hands and soul unmarred by murder of mortals. Law knows other is hurting, in his eyes this child is seen as a spit image of the older sister. Trafalgar himself lost in the shattered memories for a moment. Girl reminds his late sister, who died too young too long ago. Despite that he knows he will have enough resolve to put this innocent child to rest, as she obediently waits for her own demise.

This is essential part for the completion of the ritual. Sanji knows it. This is not news, but he can’t keep his long dead heart from burning and spasming disgusted by creeping acceptance. He was the one who proposed marriage. He organized most of the celebration. He thought about it many times, about this particular moment he has to take someone’s life, scenario played in his head on repeat. But it is not something you can be prepared for. This is wedding. They are about to enter mutual un-life, their souls are to be bound for the eternal death, forfeiting innocence, killing personification of their past. Together.

His hand is shaking, but Sanji hides it, only grip on the hilt gets stronger. Her face is gentle and soft, with neat childish features, but her eyes are dead already, trapped under Mother’s hypnotic influence. Embroidery on the gown matches hair colour. She looks like a little princess. Sanji forgets to imitate the leaving, his thorax freezes mid inhale, mechanical movement abandoned. He thought he would be able to do it, to confront the past, to kill for the sake of something new, for the sake of future. But this first step is terrifying. All his being is trapped, Staring in the eyes of the Beast, unable to move. Sanji doesn’t want to lose his humanity, he is afraid to slip, to get comfortable with the idea of supremacy over humans, his own strength, his right to take life. Few months in his death, as soon as fog of newly obtained supernatural powers thinned, allowing him to think clearly again, he made a decision to give his all to keep whatever “human” have left in this damned shell of the body. Once he got accustomed with business run by The Circle of the Crone, he found plenty of friends in each and every city morgues and knew without failure when fresh carcasses were delivered to local butcheries. When ritual required freshly drawn blood he used his own vite with no second thought. And now all workarounds are closed, blocked by unmovable boulders. Only one way ahead.

-"We are both dead. It’s not going to get any worse." His whisper is scolding hot against the skin, it reminds to expand lungs, air forced in with fake inhale. Warm palm touches softly, fingers carefully wrap around the hand that holds the hilt, the touch reassures, hand redirected slightly - outward and up.

-"Beheading is better."

For once Sanji is genuinely grateful that Trafalgar never listens and reads his thoughts at any given moment. -"One." He angles cutting edge . -"Two." Skin is burning hot -"Three." Thud. Mortal dread frozen in the eyes of the dead girl.

_________________________

And song that was a catalyst for all the efforts

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

162... My god...😂😂😂

---

How could he not be? 

“Hmm,” Buck runs a hand through his hair. “Me too.”

“Nothing to do about it, though,” Eddie says. “Just hope something happens to whoever did this, I guess?”

Guilt gnaws at him. But this is for the best. He has to keep reminding himself that this is for the best.

“Yeah,” Buck replies. “That’s all.”

“But, uh,” Eddie continues. “I’ve thought about it. It’s okay if it doesn’t ever happen.”

Buck stiffens for a beat. Not long, but enough that Eddie flares with worry. Is Buck not happy with that prospect? Of course, yes, they’d both prefer Eddie be rid of Hemodhampirosis. But they didn’t even know he could be until recently. Is it really that horrid to think he won’t? 

“Buck?”

“Sorry,” Buck says. “Uh, yeah. I mean, of course it is, right? If we can’t do anything about it anyway.”

“Right,” Eddie whispers. 

“I don’t want you to feel hopeless, is all.” Buck explains. “There’s still hope.”

There isn't. But Eddie won’t take it from Buck, he supposes. 

“I know,” he says softly. “But that’s what I’m saying. I don’t feel hopeless. I feel hopeful.” 

“Yeah?” Buck asks. 

“We can make this work, right?” Eddie asks. “We can have a really good life.”

Buck inhales sharply. He kisses Eddie’s head again. 

“Of course we can.” His voice sounds a little choked up. “We will, Eddie.”

Eddie relaxes into Buck a bit more. Everything is going to be okay. 

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you, too,” Buck replies. “So damn much.”

Eddie’s really glad they’re on the same page. 

February 9th, 2025

Eddie starts his plans for patching his life up right away. 

First and foremost, it begins with his youngest sister. After everything he’s heard from Sophia, he’s not ready to try with his parents. He’s not sure he ever will be. There may never be a day again where he feels like he can trust them. And that’s on them, not him.

Adriana, on the other hand, is young. Young, lacking information, and hurting badly. Eddie is willing to take a chance on her.

On Sunday, while Buck is at work, and Chris is sleeping in, he brings this matter forth with Sophia. 

“I think you should call Adri,” he says over morning coffee. 

Sophia’s eyebrows shoot up.  

“The sister who has made it explicitly clear she no longer wants anything to do with me?” She asks. “What a fun call to make on a Sunday morning!”

Eddie rolls his eyes at the sarcasm.

“I think we should tell her the truth,” he says. “Which I think could be the first step to healing things between all three of us.”

Not that Adriana is mad at Eddie. But she does think he’s dead. So… She probably will be mad at Eddie. Eddie would be mad at her, in her position. 

“Are you sure that’s a risk you want to take?” Sophia asks. She sounds like she’s being pragmatic, but he can hear the hint of hope in her voice. 

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “I’m sure. I trust her.”

Sophia’s eyes get a bit glossy. She takes a shaky breath. 

“Okay. When?”

“Whenever you’re ready, I guess.” Eddie shrugs. “I’ve thought a lot about it. So I’m good.”

Sophia whips out her phone right that second.

Okay, then. She’s ready. 

“What if she doesn’t answer?” Sophia asks as she opens her contacts app. 

“Then we try again?” Eddie suggests. “Leave a voicemail?”

Sophia rolls her eyes. 

“I mean, what if she doesn’t want to talk at all, Eddie?” 

“She will,” Eddie says. “I’ve got a good feeling.”

Sophia takes a steeling breath and calls their sister. She puts the call on speaker. It rings three times before Adriana picks up.

Eddie knew she would. 

“Sophia?” 

Sophia’s eyes bug out with surprise.

“Hey, Adri. Hi.” She stammers. 

“Why are you calling? Is Chris okay?” 

Sophia’s face twitches. 

“Yeah, no. No, Chris is fine. I… I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

A long pause.

“About what, Sophia?” Adriana asks finally. “I’m not really in the mood to chat.” 

“You’re going to want to hear this, though,” Sophia promises. “Are you with Mom and Dad?”

Adriana sighs. She’s clearly annoyed. 

“No, it’s just me. Listen, if you called to shit talk them, then-” 

“I didn’t! I didn’t.” Sophia promises. “Just, this is top secret, okay?”

“I’m not five. You tell me something and it’s my choice who I tell.” 

Shit. 

When did she get so intense?

“Yeah, that’s true,” Sophia admits. “So, I’m…”

She trails off, looking at Eddie. Eddie nods, encouraging her.

“We’re just going to trust you okay?”

“We? You and Buck? Are you serious?” 

“No, not Buck! Adriana, listen-”

“I’m already sick of this Sophia, just get to the point.”

“Adriana,” Eddie blurts. “Please.”

The line goes very quiet. Sophia covers her mouth with her hand, anxious. Eddie feels slightly sick.

“Eddie?”  Her voices eventually ekes out, uncertain.

Eddie relaxes his shoulders. 

“Hi, Adri. Sorry to just drop this on you.”

“This better not be a fucking joke, Sophia. I swear, if this isn’t real, that’s so fucked up.”

“It’s real, Adri. FaceTime if you want to,” Sophia says. 

“It’s real,” Eddie tacks on. 

There’s another long pause. 

“You’re not dead?” 

“I’m not dead.”

“How… How?” Her voice sounds thick with emotion. 

“I was infected,” Eddie says. “And I had to run.”

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Chapter 4! Yay!

Oop, was only a matter of time before something like this happens, I suppose. Interesting though that Shigaraki didn't smell aroused until things became physical.

Dabi has a problem, lol. He did not expect for that to happen. Too bad he will never be able to get rid of that image again. I hope it doesn't take too long for them to talk though, reading this feels even more voyeristic than any of your other fics. Probably because we're kind of experiencing this from Dabi's POV.

Oh, Dabi is down bad. He did not realize it before, I'm assuming, but he definitely is.

The fact that Compress enters the apartment by picking the lock is very funny. They get over it pretty fast, lol. Well, if you're living with other people, sometimes you just have to deal.

And Dabi only eats because he doesn't want Shigaraki to worry. He feels so bad for what he did and he's so scared that he will have to leave when he finally has a home with people that care for him. He feels like he ruined it.

Oh, this reminds me of the fact that, if Dabi stays a cat for long enough, he will forget that he used to be human. He'll attempt that, won't he? He'll erase a part of himself just to make the League happy. Because Onigiri will stay but Dabi will be dead. Called it.

Wait wait wait wait. What happened with Muscular?? (Good to know he didn't get accepted though, maybe even died, depending on how mean he was to Onigiri)

Oh, AfO wants to get rid of Onigiri. I bet he thinks he's distracting for Shigaraki. Setting Moonfish on him is a good move, though it won't endear him to Tomura.

Cat instincts! It's kind of cute how his immediate reaction is to run towards Tomura. But Dabi is hurt and he already said he can't shift while bleeding. He hasn't shifted in a while, this might become seriously dangerous to him. If he takes too long with healing, he might lose himself.

Dabi is hurt, might actively be dying, and he's still worried about Tomura. Tomura's worry hurts worse. Tomura kneeling in glass shards is wrong. Dabi is willing to give up everything for Tomura. His revenge. His freedom. His mind. His life. Everything.

"Okay. Dabi will stay alive for that. He can't let Duster down like he has everyone else who's cared about him." Ouch??? What the fuck??? Banger line, but oooof.

I'm really, really glad that Shigaraki has the League in this one and that they are as close as they are. I don't think he'd have been able to bring himself to eat otherwise, not when the kitchen surely makes him think of his cat.

Toga is totally trying to get Shigaraki and Keiro together. At the same time, Dabi finally acknowledges his jealousy! Though he represses it, like he does with all inconvenient human emotions.

Ooooh, Shigaraki snaps at AfO! Yesss! God, this is amazing to read. He's completely right about what he says, too.

Yes, Dabi, AfO does actually want Shigaraki isolated badly enough to put a hit on his cat. Because while Omigiri is a cat, he's also the reason Shigaraki is becoming more considerate. Shigaraki is calmer now. He's thinking for himself and talking back and pushing for things to go his way and AfO hates that. He can't control Tomura like that.

Shigaraki calls in Stain to help them train because none of the others are as good with blades! And he's setting up fail-saves in case things go south with AfO. I love that. It's becoming more and more obvious that he's so much more confident than he was at that point in canon and he deserves it more than anything.

Lol, Stain is going to train the two people out of the League who are his biggest fans. Well, outside of Dabi, who would never act that foolishly, lol.

I see what you mean with sibling energy. Shigaraki wants to impress Stain, wants his approval, even if he would never admit it. And they bicker!!

Okay, the talking buttons are cute as fuck. Dabi finally accepts that he loves Tomura.

Shigaraki's realization comes so much earlier here! Yes!! Keep your people safe!!! I like that Shigaraki has someone to trust in now. Sure, he trusts the League, but he's also their leader. He doesn't have the same amount of responsibility for Stain. Stain is a more experienced villain who doesn't want to use and manipulate Shigaraki and it's good for Tomura to have someone like that in his life.

Stain moves in as a catsitter! Very amusing.

Oh, Stain knows. This will be interesting. Does Stain know Shifters exist, or does he think Dabi has a shapeshifting quirk? It would be cool if Stain is a shifter and can help Dabi out, since he never had anyone help him with that part of himself.

Thanks for the chapter! I'm excited to see where this goes next.

Thank you so much for this comment!!!! This chapter was definitely a beefy boi!

Dabi is really Going Through It in this one trying to deal with his emotions, but we all know that boy has so many emotions he can barely contain himself lol

And AFO being so ice cold to just kill Shigaraki's cat felt so in-character. Muscular took some damage but he did survive his encounter with Shig unlike Moonfish.

Stain is gonna be a good influence on Shigaraki even if they have to kill each other to make it happen. And I guess he'll be something to Dabi as well...

Thank you again for commenting! 🖤

[twignotstick]

TMNT: SECOND SHOT - Arc 1, Chapter 9: Loose Ends 🧵

<- Chapter 8: Spoken Poetry 🗣️

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): threats, violence, body horror, vomit

Words: 3,464

Summary: Old colleagues clash, and the family is reminded that the stakes are high.

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

A wheeze.

“Breathe through it.”

A hacking cough.

“You've got this Scout, I-I'm right here.”

A shaky wretch.

“Big Brother's right here to help you.”

A sob, clutching his aching chest.

“I'm right here.”

The protector had long forgotten the shock of hearing his own voice (The voice he wasn't supposed to have.). He had shaken off the disgusting feeling of throwing up his insides. All of that stopped mattering when he heard the stuttered breathing of his youngest brother.

The scout had been heaving and coughing for what felt like hours. His older brother kneeled over him, hovering finned hands a few inches away. Scout usually loved physical contact, but at times like these it could worsen things by volumes. He didn't want to risk that when his brother couldn't respond with a boundary. Still, not being able to do anything was killing him.

He was never able to do anything.

After an eternity, the turtle's gut was adequately emptied. The last bits of spit dribbled from his beak as he shivered.

“All done. I-It's all better, see? Do you feel better?”

The scout looked up from his shaking curl blearily. The figure of his oldest brother was blurred by the tears still left in his eyes. “...P-Protector?” he rasped.

“Y-yeah, it's me lil man. I'm here for you.”

The scout hesitated before whispering again. “...where's Big Brother?”

The protector would be heartbroken, but this was a heartbreak he had already faced many years ago. When they still spoke like they used to, they would know, when one of them referred to another with something like “Big Brother”, which one they were referring to. The turtle way of communication allowed for that kind of distinction. The human way, however, did not.

The protector knew who the scout was referring to.

When the turtles were young, very young, they had to learn a harsh reality. Their little brother had something terrible in him, and it made him hurt. If he flinched too quickly, he would have tears flooding his eyes until someone assured him it was okay to cry. Then, he would sob himself to sleep.

When they were very young, their father was the only one who could console him. He would rub the young turtle's shell and whisper to him in soft hisses. Hold him closely, but gently.

The scavenger couldn't stand it. Not for lack of trying, of course. There was just something terrible about it. Sometimes, he would say that he hurt too, just watching. He wouldn't dare try to comfort his little brother. He knew he would just cry himself and make the scout more upset.

The protector wanted to help so badly. His very existence was keeping his brothers safe and healthy. Protecting them. So, when he saw his little brother plagued with a pain from within that he couldn't get rid of, he tried to help.

He just couldn't.

The protector didn't know how to be gentle like their father did. He would try to rub his little brother's shell, but that would only lead to hiding and screaming. So, he settled on just being as present as he could. He hated being too intense.

For a short while, they didn't think anyone except their father could help.

One day, their father had been out gathering supplies. The scout, or the one who would become the scout, started having one of his “episodes”. The protector did what he always did; he was present. He tried soothing his brother, but to no avail.

Then the hunter approached.

The hunter who, up to this point, had hardly communicated with anyone but their father.

He took the scout's shaking form into his arms. He rubbed the edge of the younger's carapace, terrifying the protector. He'll just start screaming, and then the scavenger will start crying, and-

He leaned into the comfort, even more deeply than he did with their father. 

The brothers understood the hunter more after that. They recognized that he struggled with communicating how he cared, so he chose to show it through his actions. They understood that he knew how to control his strength, while the protector didn't.

The protector also understood that he couldn't help his youngest brother then, just like now.

He didn't need Big Brother. He needed his Big Brother.

“I don't know where he is, Scout,” the older turtle conceded. “But we're going to find him. I promise.”

“...what's that noise? Noises?” The younger squeaked.

“These are… our voices, I th-think. Scav might know. We have to find him,” the protector said, looking up at the small room they were held in.

A door. A small work desk, with some papers on it, along with a computer. No windows. The two puddles of red bile from just a few minutes ago.

“...wh-why are we talking? I thought we couldn't do- That's a thing the humans do, we can't do that, right?” The scout asked, still keeping his voice soft so as to not irritate his injured throat.

“Y-yeah, I'm trying not to think too much about it before we find Scav.”

“Why aren't they here with us? W… where are we now?”

The protector sighed and hovered his hand next to his brother's. “I don't know. We're going to find them.”

The scout grabbed his brother's hand and held it, trying to comfort his big brother. “I know we will,” he confirmed. 

The protector deliberated for a moment, observing the scout's still shaky form. “Do you… think you can walk?”

The scout tried to brace himself on his hands, only to find a pulsing pain in his wrists. His writhing from before hadn't done him many favors. Deep grooves cuffed his wrists, ankles, and neck. The injury on his neck was obviously the worst.

Seeing a flash of white, the turtle fell back down onto his elbows. His brother squeezed lightly on his hand and guided his breathing again.

“I'll take that as a no, then.”

“Ye- KHH- e-eah…”

The protector weighed his options. He could go out on his own, look for his brothers alone. But if he did that, he'd be leaving his baby brother alone in his time of need.

He could try carrying his brother on his back. But thinking of that, he remembered the various bruises and cuts he had received in the conflict with the robots. There was no way he could get far with a whole body against his broken carapace, even one as small as the scout's.

He was talking, so maybe he could…

“I'm gonna try something.”

The protector sighed and planted one knee on the ground.

“...what are you doing?”

He dragged his other leg to plant his foot, bracing himself on the knee.

“Woah…”

The rest came naturally, and before he knew it, he was standing.

With a shaky grin, the older turtle looked at the younger. He fought to ignore the queasiness threatening to spill his stomach again. “I think I can… carry you?” He whispered carefully. Slowly, he lowered his upper body and lifted the scout in a princess carry, getting a small squeak in response. “Tell me if it hurts too much, but try to stay quiet. I think stealth will be our friend here.” The scout gave an exaggerated nod, shutting his eyes tight. Showing his full faith in his brother's ability.

Expression growing determined, the protector readied himself and rammed his shoulder into the door. He nearly lost his balance and cracked when he heard the whimpering coming from the brother in his arms. Seeing the door not go down, he had to ram it one more time. This time, it crashed to the ground, and he had to quickly regain his balance to not fall with the weight in his arms.

It was strange, because for a moment he could have sworn there was more weight behind the door than there should have been.

Judging by the lopsided way the door was lying on the ground and the armored arm stuck out to the side, he was right.

“Whoops…”

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

April was so unbelievably overwhelmed. Internally, she was screaming at herself. How is any of this even happening? Why did I have to get involved with these crazy mutants? Mutants! How did I even get here?

On the outside, she kept her composure. Her best friend, however, was externally losing it. At some point, April decided that she had to keep it together so there was at least one human who could help with major decision making.

As she watched Splinter, she caught some interesting details. The rat's joints were old, but in combat he moved with unparalleled dexterity. He spoke with a pride in his voice; especially when speaking about his self proclaimed sons. It was somewhat bizarre to think about, but made sense when he clarified that he had found them at their birth. Splinter only explained what he needed to and withheld many details. He claimed it would be a “waste of time” to elaborate.

And despite his mystery, he was kind. He made sure that with every batch of guards they ran into, CJ and April got out of it without taking a single hit. He spoke reverently about his sons’ skills, and admirably at April and CJ when they asked about certain things they had been theorizing before. Like how yes, “Tiny” and himself were the best at understanding human speech, with “Wit” not far behind.

There was still no word from Stockman, but April had largely forgotten about him.

The sound of a struggle ripped April from her thoughts. It appeared to be coming from ahead of their little trio, and Splinter was clearly intrigued. “I believe we are getting close,” he whispered. “We must move s-slowly now.”

Heeding the rat's advice, April followed behind him at an easy pace, with CJ holding up the rear. The sound of fighting started to lessen as people went down. Weapons clattered against the tile and some shouts rang out. “Sedate them already!” “Behind you!” “What is this thing?!”

The shouts died down, and all that was left was one set of heavy breathing and another's hushed voice. Young, squeaky. 

“There's someone else here.”

Splinter's guard dropped completely, and he rounded the corner. 

“FATHER!”

A hulking figure slammed into the rat, wrapping its arms around him. April and CJ lifted their weapons on reflex, then noticed the spiky shell on the figure's back.

When the turtle backed off a bit to take a better look at his father, another figure barreled into Splinter and knocked him onto his rear. CJ's guard immediately went back up, but April held out an arm to keep him back as they watched their old friend.

“Father!” Wit shouted. “You're okay! And you're here! And you- you were standing like we were!” Wit gasped and pulled away from his tight hug on Splinter. “Wait, does that mean you-”

“Yes, my s-sons,” Splinter laughed out. “I-”

“OHMIGOSH!” Wit flapped his hands as he looked up to Spiky. “This is INCREDIBLE, HUNTER!”

Spiky sent a small smirk to the humans watching the scene, then leaned down to help their rat father up. “Yeah, sure, Scav.”

April quickly took stock of the new voices. Wit (or Scav?) sounded younger; like puberty wasn't done with him just yet. He sounded excitable and eager. Comparatively, Spiky (or Hunter) sounded older and more experienced. His voice had a certain gravelly tone, yet still remained light.

With all three mutants standing again, April couldn't help but remember their exceptionally familial bond. Splinter held the faces of his sons and looked them over, fussing when he found new bruises and cuts. Scav kept asking questions and bouncing on the balls of his feet. Hunter tried to calm him down and encouraged waiting for answers, but Scav was too eager.

All the while, Hunter kept sending glances to the humans. April waved back reluctantly, knowing that CJ behind her was probably much too stunned to respond. The wave caused a grin to grace Hunter's beaked face, and he tossed his arm around his little brother’s shoulders.

“Hey Scav! Check who else showed up for us,” Hunter said, gesturing to the humans with his free hand.

Scav finally looked up to the others in the hall, and his eyes widened in surprise. Then his face fell into a small scowl as he returned his eyes to Hunter. “Oh, shut it,” he grumbled.

“Shut it?” Hunter asked with mock offense, letting go of the smaller turtle. “Shut what? I didn't say nothin’!”

“You know what you implied.”

“Oh what, implied that I was right? Hm? That you were wrong? That we didn't get sold out by nobody?”

Scav huffed. “First of all, you should say we didn't get sold out by anybody, just like you should say you didn't say anything. Not nobody, not nothing.”

“So you agree?”

“Eh-” Scav paused. “Agree on what?”

“That we didn't get sold out by anybody?”

Scav waved his hands a bit more and sent a few looks to the humans. “Ack- This confirms nothing! I-if anything, the fact that they're wielding weapons implies-”

“Wowowoah.” April stepped a bit closer, causing Scav to jump. “Do you think we sold you out to those sci-fi freaks?” she asked.

Scav said nothing, instead flicking his vision around a bit more. Hunter sighed and said, “This dork was blaming himself for us being in here, even though its obviously not his fault.”

“I-” Scav squeaked, “Couldn't this conversation have waited until, maybe, we were in a private place? Or our brothers weren't missing, and in potential peril?!”

“What do you expect me to do? Let my little bro simmer in his stupid guilt when obviously you were wrong, and I was right?”

“There's a first time for everything,” Scav mumbled.

“SO YOU ADMIT IT!”

“Fine!” Scav swung his arms down and smacked his thighs. “I was wrong, you were right, can we be done with this?!”

Contented, Hunter placed a heavy hand on his fuming brother's shell. “Yes, yes we can.”

“Oookay then,” CJ said, finally stepping out into full view as Splinter snickered at his sons’ behavior, “let's get a couple things straight so we can get you guys outta here. Your names are..?”

“Uh, complicated?” Scav said. “My role is the scavenger, so my brothers call me Scav, but our naming conventions are very different than those of humans, so-”

“So a problem for another time. Got it. I'm CJ, this is April.” CJ clapped his hands together. “More important: where are the rest of you?!”

“We don't know.” Hunter stepped up. “The guard I pinned said they were in the ‘west wing’.”

“Which we are in right now,” Scav explained. “They have to be close. We've been searching every room we can, but we haven't found them yet.”

“With you both here,” Splinter added, “I can probably t-track them more accurately.”

“What are the names you use for them?" April asked. “It'll be easier for us to communicate with them if we know.”

Scav squeaked. “Well, again, our naming conventions differ greatly from your human ones. So, really, it's less names, and more titles or roles.” Seeing his older brother glaring from the side, Scav halted his rambling. “Buuut, our older brother's role is Protector, (which still sounds absolutely bizarre in English,) and our younger brother is-”

A blood curdling scream echoed through the hall. It penetrated everyone's skulls, and the mutants’ eyes all widened in shock, turning sharply to the source.

“SCOUT!”

In a snap, all of them were in motion. The mutants covered the ground at a blinding speed, much faster than before. April was caught completely off guard by the sudden change of pace. Splinter had been moving briskly before, sure, but this was unbelievable.

Maybe they really were built to be super soldiers.

As they came closer to the noise, the yelling only got louder and was joined by a second, deeper voice screaming as well. Soldiers shouted commands and the sounds of electricity ripped through the air.

The red in the halls glinted in their eyes.

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

Baxter cowered behind yet another wall, trying to channel all of his energy into not making a single sound. The office was in sight; still located exactly where it had been the last time he had been here, all those years ago. He couldn't risk anything now.

No guards in the hall. No cameras. Honestly, it was a wonder how poorly guarded the room was.

It couldn't be this easy, could it?

The office door was left unlocked, allowing Baxter to creep inside and approach the desk. Papers were strewn about, where he could read details about the project. “Ooze”. That was always the less professional term they chose to use for the pure mutagen. Baxter came up with it. Barry never bothered to ask him why.

Some of the papers were the old ones, from when the project was first started. Some were new, speaking of alternative methods and starting the whole thing over. But yet, Barry always circled back to the original subjects. He didn't write about Splinter, but he wrote about the turtles.

Sometimes, he even used the names Baxter gave them.

Baxter ignored the papers as best he could, instead sitting himself in front of the large computer monitor on the desk. He remembered every one of Barry's passwords, and it seemed that Barry hadn't changed them. It was easy to get into the computer and find where he was hiding his connection to the mouser system. Then, the steps were elementary. Wipe any and all connections to the mouser system, and destroy any photos from it that Barry had saved.

The loading bar was only about 60% done when he heard footsteps.

Baxter ducked down under the desk, crawling around it to stay out of view. The footsteps came into the room, stopping a few feet away from his hiding place.

The sirens in the hall almost quieted, due to the buzzing in his ears.

“I know you're here, Baxter.”

He didn't dare breathe.

“The monster broke out, but it would never come in here. It would have tried to kill me as soon as it heard my voice, or smelled me in the hall. But you, my friend. You know when to hide.”

Barton Axum moved further into the room, barely by two steps.

“Come out now, Baxter. I don't want you to get hurt. I'm only here to help you.”

He couldn't hold his breath anymore, so Baxter conceded and stood slowly, glaring at his ex-partner. “How kind of you to have any semblance of sympathy, when you are the one who intends to hurt me.”

“I am not. Master Shredder is.”

Baxter felt utterly confused by the strange tone Barton carried. “Who is that?”

For the first time in many years, Baxter saw fear in Barton's eyes. “I am sorry to admit that I lied to you, Baxter. When we first conducted our project, the funding and materials I provided did not come from my family. They came from a very generous benefactor, and a very powerful man, known by the name of Master Shredder. When you stupidly destroyed all of our progress, the Master nearly killed me until I offered to help him with his other work. When you helped me discover our subjects again, I was given permission to pursue them under the condition that you would come to help me finish them.”

“And why should I help you, Barton?”

“Because if you don't, both of us will die.” Barton was beginning to look desperate. “Shredder is a very powerful man, and he has very powerful connections. Even without us, he will find new people to take on the project, capture the subjects again, and make his army.”

“Army?”

Barton nodded solemnly. “Please, Baxter. You're my only friend. I don't want you to die.”

Baxter hesitated. He hadn't seen this amount of vulnerability from Barry in years. “And what of the girl? April?”

“She will work for the Shredder or die.”

Baxter glanced at the red light in the hall, thinking of the girl who had agreed to give him a second chance. And her friend, who was still an unknown accomplice. If this Master Shredder was as powerful as Barry said, his secret would be found out soon enough.

The loading bar finally hit 100%, severing all of Barry's connections to Baxter's technology.

“This is all my fault, and I can't be more sorry,” Barry said softly. “I only wish to keep you safe now.”

Baxter sighed defeatedly. “You're too far gone now, Barry.”

Barry smiled a small, nearly invisible smile. “As are you.”

○●○●○●○

getting really close to the end of the arc :)

Chapter 10: To Be Reborn 🌸 ->

[clumsiestgiantess]

Erica pov of chapter 16; new love is in the air!

[A love larger than life]

There was nothing left for me in the mansion; I was so sure of it.  However, shortly after finishing a wonderful breakfast made by the box I’d come up with for her, Alexis dug through the rubble regardless.  I was about to tell her to just leave it alone, when I noticed the large wooden dresser she’d cast to the side, still intact.  “Hey, wait!" I called, "That’s my dresser!”  I know that must’ve been obvious, but I was so shocked to see it in one piece.  Alexis pulled away from the cliffside to let me across.  Once I got over, I yanked the drawers open wide.  Inside, a few sets of old clothes sat pristinely untouched.  

“Finally!” I cried out, holding up one of my shirts, “I can wear my own clothes!”  Oh how badly I’d missed wearing decent things!  Sure, I was given plenty of options in the hundreds of empty houses left in all the subdivisions that surrounded the cliff, but they were unnerving, really.  I could never quite shake the unease of wearing a person’s clothes who may or may not be getting tortured somewhere by some insane giants from the portals.

Putting together a decent outfit from the items in the drawer, I clambered back across the rubble to a small part of my house that was still standing.  “Ok, I take back what I said.  Maybe there are some useful things in here,” I noted as I ducked behind the single wall to change.

Once I’d finished, I stepped out from behind the rubble to examine myself.  “Damn, I haven’t worn this in forever.  Probably because I stashed it in there,” I said, gesturing to the dresser.  After that miraculous find, I helped Alexis dig through the rest of the junk left from the hazmat giants’ destructive pillaging.  I couldn’t do much with the bigger pieces of rubble, but Alexis was happy to push them aside for me.  With a few hours of searching, we collected a fair amount of my things that I’d assumed had long been lost.  Most of the items I was glad to see; they reminded me of my life before all of this, when things were more normal.  However, after Alexis cast aside one piece of rubble in particular, I recoiled away from what I’d found underneath.  “Oh, it’s.. that,” I addressed it in disgust.  

The safe where my infinite supply of money had been stored sat eerily pristine beside the rest of the torn up pieces of my house.  This was taking me on a trip a bit too far down memory lane — all the way back to the months Alexis had controlled me.  Curiosity hummed in the back of my mind, wondering how much money was still left.  But I had to remind myself that it didn’t matter.  Money’s basically worthless now, which is a crazy notion in itself.  Why would I even need to buy stuff anyway?  Alexis and I go out and sort through all the free things left in houses all the time.

Alexis and I both glanced warily at each other, immediately turning away as our gazes briefly met.  “I.. should get rid of that,” Alexis stated nervously, reaching down to snatch the safe from the rubble in front of me.  I stood in silence, recalling all the days I spent wondering if I would ever have my freedom back.  “You seemed so horrible back then,” I said quietly.  “I thought you were some invisible being from another dimension, playing god with creatures beneath yourself, using me like a character in a game to interact with my world.  Seems silly, huh?” I laughed bitterly.  “I really believed I’d never have control over my own body again.”  

Alexis hadn’t meant to torture me; she was only trying to give me her slightly twisted version of a normal life after watching me royaly fuck mine up a few different times.  She’d swore left right and center that she’d never do it again, so I wasn’t worried I’d ever end up like that.  In fact, Alexis would probably tear apart any giant who even tried to control me.  A lot had changed in those four years she was gone.  To think there was a time I was afraid of her — just yesterday I kissed her, and she kissed me!  And wow did it feel good!

I shook off the memories and turned back to Alexis.  Her cheerful expression had fallen into a look of despair.  I could only imagine the internal struggle Alexis constantly had to face, always haunted by her past mistakes.  Once she dared to look at me again, I held out my hands, palm up.  This was our signal to call the other person closer.  Alexis would offer me her hand so I could step onto it, and I would offer up my hands as a gesture for her to get more level with me.  If I was lucky, she would place her chin squarely in my upturned palms — close enough I could feel the breath on her lips.

Hesitantly, Alexis stepped forward, resting her chin on the lawn in front of me to get closer to my height.  “You weren’t the first person to make me feel like that,” I told her once she settled.  It was true.  During my horrific time with John and the others, I’d had about as little control over my body as I had while being actually controlled by her.

“However,” I added, “you were the first to apologize for it.”  Alexis stilled as I stepped up to her, eyes darting away from me and back again.  When we first befriended eachother, I’d thought that she was always distancing herself from me to stop us from getting too attached to one another — that way she could freely leave me without too much guilt.  However, over the last few weeks, I've come to realize her hesitation stemmed from an awful fear that she might hurt me in some way or another if she even physically came too close to me.  

So, if Alexis wouldn't fill the space between us — which was almost always the case — I made it my job to do so instead.  Closing my eyes, I took the final step forward and leaned against her trustingly, my forehead coming to rest on her brow.  “Thank you,” I whispered.  My voice was so quiet, I feared Alexis might not hear it.  “for letting me rely on you.  Stay with me, please.  Y- You probably want to go home by now, but I’m not ready for you to leave yet.”  

God, why can’t she stay here with me?  Or, better yet: why can’t we just go back to the way things used to be?  Before our little picnic by the lake that ended up driving us so far apart?  However, Alexis had warned me not to keep thoughts like that in my head.  She wants me- needs me to be here, not in the past.  If she’s ever going to get home, I have to be ready to take care of myself without her.  The thought of being without her now that I found out she loved me was cruel.  It practically tears out my heart whenever I think of it.

I took a shuddering breath as Alexis pulled away from me.  Moments later, her lips pressed lightly into the left side of my face.  Warm ecstasy spread through me from the spot where her very large kiss covered my head.  I still can’t believe she loves me.

“I wouldn't trade your company for the world, Erica,” Alexis told me lovingly.  I blushed, absentmindedly brushing my hand over the place where her lips touched my skin.  Before Alexis could retreat back over the cliffside, I rushed forward and hugged a few of her fingers in a strange embrace.  It’s unbelievable that this was how much of her I could hold — only a few fingers.

Alexis seemed a bit shocked at first, but she soon came around to the odd gesture.  The rest of her digits slowly folded in around me, creating a soft all-encompassing embrace.  Screw a normal hug; this was infinitely better.  My eyes teared up and I nearly gave in to the temptation to pull myself further into her hand.  I so badly wanted to curl up and let her hold me, but it just wasn't the time.  I have bigger plans on my mind.

Pushing away Alexis' fingers, I stepped off to the side of her hand just slightly as I quickly brushed the tears from my eyes.  "I'll finish sorting this out," I said once I composed myself, nodding at the lopsided pile of my things that we'd collected.  "But once I'm done I'd like to practice balancing myself on your shoulder."  The very second I announced my plan, Alexis looked ready to shoot it down with something along the lines of 'Erica, it's too dangerous, you could fall'.  

Before she could deny me, I held up a hand to silence her.  "Don't ruin the mood," I chided, "Last night you promised me I could try it again.  How am I going to get better if I don't practice?"  I watched Alexis' expression shift in thought while hopefully awaiting some sort of approval of my antics.  In the grand scheme of things, I understand why Alexis would be so protective of me.  I mean, I have been kidnapped twice now.  Add on the fact that she has feelings for me, making her doubly protective of me.  I'm certainly not complaining, though.  I need someone like that in my life; I've always needed someone like that — someone who could stop me from making bad decisions before it was too late.  Or just.. stop bad things from happening to me, period.

I began sorting through the pile of my things as Alexis still mulled over my request, clearly lost in thought.  Though all of these items brought back pleasant memories, some of them were a bit annoying.  Like my cell phone charger, for instance.  My phone is long gone — god knows where that thing is — but my stupid charger was still miraculously unaffected by the damage inflicted on my house.  I quickly got bored messing around with my stuff and wandered back over to the cliffside where Alexis stood.  I tried to be nonchalant about it, but I did really want to ride on her shoulder.  It's such a neat vantage point — almost like I’m a giant too — and I feel so much closer to her sitting there.  

Finally, Alexis lowered her hand to the lawn where I stood.  I could tell by the cute little expression on her face that she'd given in to my silent begging.  "You're adorable," I whispered under my breath as I climbed up and into her hand.  She obviously didn't hear me; she never did.  Alexis was far too big to ever hear me whispering to myself, which is probably a good thing.  I've occasionally made fun of her under my breath simply because I know she can't hear me.

"Hold on tighter this time, alright?" Alexis asked as she lifted me up to her shoulder, "I don't want you to fall over backwards like you did yesterday."  I nodded freverently, excited to get going.  "I know, I will."  Staying true to her protective ways, Alexis began walking agonizingly slowly.  “Come on!  You went faster than this yesterday!” I complained.  “Yeah, and you also fell off yesterday.”  I hate it when she’s right, but she is right.  However, after a few walkarounds of proof that I could handle that speed just fine, Alexis did steadily pick up the pace.  Over the next few days, we practiced at a faster and faster speed until I could sit comfortably on her shoulder with her normal gait.

Surprisingly, there were very few mishaps.  Most of the time I managed to right myself before I fell too far.  Only once did I completely fall off of Alexis, and it was partially her fault.  She’d pointed out how the creepy ruined water tower in the distance kinda looked like a satellite crashed to Earth.  I had to lean out fairly far to see it around Alexis’ neck, which was a bit too far past where I was safe from falling.  

One moment I was clinging to her shoulder, the next I was free-falling through the air, plummeting to the ground far below.  I barely had time to cry out before I was firmly pressed between two surfaces, both of which were pleasantly warm and soft.  Knowing that Alexis had caught me, I took a brief moment to calm myself down.  I assumed I’d been pinned between Alexis’ hands, so I hugged myself deeper into the surface below me, assuring my racing mind that I was safely in her grasp.  However, once I was nestled into her skin, I realized the surface was a lot more plush than it usually was.  Wait.. is this clothing material?

It took me a few moments to figure out what had happened.  Alexis had quickly pinned me between one of her hands and her chest to catch me, pressing me firmly onto one of her breasts.  I immediately flushed deep red as I realized what I’d just snuggled into.  Trying not to be too conspicuous, I pushed myself away from her slightly, only blushing harder as I watched my hands sink into her skin.  Seconds later, I fell backwards onto Alexis’ outstretched palm.  She’d finally released me.  

I sat dumbfounded in her hand as she scolded me to be more careful.  Her words were lost in my own thoughts.  I’ve never been held that close to her before.  I stood and stepped carefully over to Alexis’s chest again, placing a single hand over the place I’d been moments before.  I barely even processed what I was doing.  I was too mesmerized by the rhythm of Alexis’ heartbeat, mixed with the offbeat swish of air rushing to her lungs.  It was a strange sensation, feeling the thundering of her heartbeat beneath my fingers as her chest rose and fell with each breath.  This was proof that she wasn’t some impossible being, but rather one gigantic living thing.  It’s insane how impossible that seems.

Suddenly, I became aware of what I was doing.  “Your heart’s beating really fast,” I said awkwardly, pulling my hand back in embarrassment, “I can feel it, it.. sounds.. nice.”  What are you acting so embarrassed for? I internally scolded myself.  Do you want her to realize that you enjoyed snuggling up to her like that?!  A part of me responded with a ready ‘yes’, but I turned away and played it off as best I could.  Though she had confessed she liked me, I didn’t think Alexis was quite ready for that kind of intimacy yet.

I waved a hand nonchalantly at the cliffside where my house used to be.  “I’m ready to go back now.  I- I think that’s enough practice for today.”  Alexis gave me a curious look, but said nothing and headed for home.  The moment we got back to the remains of my house, I quickly changed the subject by complaining about my dirty clothes.  Alexis and I came up with a plan to visit the one house in the subdivision that still had power.  Hopefully the washing machine actually still works.

Later we ate dinner together, and all traces of my awkwardness had disappeared.  While I finished my meal, I watched Alexis patrol the abandoned neighborhood for signs of her own kind.  I'd told her how upset I was about them.  Could they control me like Alexis could?  She was adamant that it wasn't possible, but she couldn't know that for certain.  

Once she finished her search, Alexis came to rest on the cliffside to my right.  I absentmindedly drew a bit closer to her, rattled by the thought of the hazmat giants taking over my world.  Alexis must've noticed me move closer, because she shifted to the side, letting her head rest on the top of the cliff, level with me.  I know her well enough that this was a silent ask for me to move closer.  Normally, Alexis won't get too close to me thanks to the fear I may or may not have vested in her by scaring her off four years ago.  However, on occasion, she'd offer herself over to me.  My favorite times spent with her often come from these moments, where she would let me get as close to her as I dared.

I stood suddenly as a brilliant idea struck me.  Striding up to the place where she settled down, I lay back on the side of Alexis' face, sinking into her soft cheek.  The feeling was akin to sitting on a heated bean bag chair.  I thoroughly enjoyed it, especially since the nights were getting slightly colder every day.  I was distracted from her by the flickering of lights out in the yard.  For the briefest of moments, I thought they’d come from flashlights further down the road and gasped, causing Alexis to tense beneath me.  However, they were only fireflies.  I pointed them out to Alexis to put her back at ease.

In slight amusement, I watched her try, and fail, to catch the little bugs.  They were tiny compared to me.  I could barely imagine how small they’d be to Alexis, and how impossible they would be for her to catch.  She sighed longingly; I stood up, slightly concerned.  Alexis began a small story about her childhood — how much she loved catching them when she was younger.  Aww, now she’s literally too big to catch them.  Though, I’m not.

Moments later, I was out in my old front yard, stepping through the dark to capture the tiny floating lights, which mostly didn’t seem to care that they were being taken.  When I’d caught a few of them, I returned to Alexis with a smug smile.  “I got you something,” I told her nonchalantly.  “What is it?”  Her voice sounded curious, but I know she already knew the answer.  She’d watched me gather the little bugs.  “Hold out your hand and find out,” I replied, playing along.  

My heart skipped a beat as her right hand slid up to me, resting the tips of her fingers on the bottom of my cupped hands.  For a moment, it was jarring.  I mean, she can hold me captive between her palms just like the little fireflies crawling around in mine.  Despite her obvious ‘dangers’, the risk of befriending, then loving, her came with too many benefits for me not to risk it.

With the gentleness I’d want her to use with me, I released the fireflies into her cupped hand.  They drifted through the space between her fingers for a moment before floating up into the night.  Alexis’ look of pure awe reflected their light as they left, and I watched her as pride swelled in my chest.  I did that.  I made her so happy!   Then her pupils darted to me.  Her look softened with a small smile that made me giddy under her loving gaze.  Using a gentle grip I hadn’t even experienced from someone my own height, Alexis brought my hands into hers, pressing them softly between two of her fingers.

“Thank you.  I have something for you, too.”  God, how’d her voice get so hot all of a sudden?  Alexis leaned over the cliffside, her face coming up beside mine as lips longer than my forearms slid softly against my cheek, drifting down over my neck.  I froze for the briefest moment — my mind overwhelmed by everything.  Then, I practically melted against her, pressing deep kisses into her bottom lip.  I tried to give more, but she didn’t even move.  Was I not enough?  Or was it another one of Alexis’ moments where she somehow believed that she would be too dangerous for me?  Likely, it was the latter.

Sighing with loving annoyance, I stepped away from her just slightly, and her eyes fluttered open.  “I- I don’t want to sound greedy,” I began quietly, “but can I have a bit more?  It’s so.. big.  But I can tell you’re holding back.”  Her confused look soured into confliction.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”  I knew it.  She’s holding back to keep me ‘safe’ from herself.  When will she learn that she’s the safeguard, not the danger?  Shaking my head pityingly, I reached for her chin, which rose just below my face while she spoke.  “You won’t,” I told her sternly.

I worried that she might never want to be too intimate with me — fearing for my safety and whatnot.  However, she exhaled a slight chuckle.  “It’ll cost you extra.”  I was midway through rolling my eyes in exasperation when my chin was gently raised by a finger so big it took up the entire space of my neck.  Irrational, or actually, rational fear lit up my veins.  Any sane person would run or at least struggle feeling their throat pressed against something so heavy.  But I practically craved it.  

Alexis bent down over me.  Her lips were still slightly parted when I shifted up to kiss her.  My heart raced wildly in my chest as a tongue wider than my head slid over my lips.  I inadvertently made a small noise and pulled myself closer, sloppily kissing the gigantic slick muscle.  I know she’s big but holy shit, she’s big.  Her tongue slid into my mouth while I kissed her.  Because of its sheer size, all I could do was sit there and take it as Alexis worked to love me.  My jaw began throbbing as I opened it wide, disbelieving that only the very tip of her tongue was somehow all it took to make this happen to me.  Only for a second did I find myself frightened that my jaw would break loose, but then Alexis pulled away for a breath of air and I fell backwards, gasping for breath.

Saliva dripped off my face in globs that somehow made me queasy and horny at the same time.  “That was-”  I had to take another breath mid-sentence, still not fully recovered.  “That was a really good gift.  Mine kinda sucks in comparison,” I chuckled.  Alexis brushed a finger slowly down my arm before reaching out with a bit of the fabric of her shirt to wipe away the stuff left on my face.  If only we could go to bed together.  We do, but I always have to leave because she might crush me if I sleep with her.   …but what if I don’t sleep with all of her?

The moment Alexis was done cleaning me off, I ran to my sleeping bag.  Before she could take back her hand, I grabbed her pinky and dove into bed with it tucked to my chest.  I slid around it almost protectively, silently pleading with her not to take it back as I got comfortable with it.  The single finger was nearly the same size as me, and I treated it as if it were all of her, twinning it slowly between my arms and legs, finally resting my head on its side.  

After ensuring she couldn’t get out of my grasp, I glanced up at her.  Alexis stared down at me in shock, and I suddenly got the notion of how strange it all must look and feel to her.  “I- I know it’s not normal, but I uhh.. don’t think anything between us will be.  Not that that’s a bad thing!” I added, catching myself.  Shit, she’s going to think I’m weird, or.. or she’ll think I don’t like it!

“You can have your hand back if you want-”  I began to back off her, but Alexis quickly shook her head.  “Keep it,” she replied, moving her finger so it fit snugly against my chest.  “At least until you fall asleep.”  I felt as if I’d burst from joy as she curled up on the cliffside right beside me, gently pulling my sleeping bag closer until it was only a foot away from her chest.  The rumble of her voice was all-encompassing as she spoke, making me shiver.

“I don’t care what we have, as long as we have it together.  I’m so glad you confessed.  It was probably hard for you.  I don’t think I ever would’ve said anything if it weren’t for that.”  “Why?” I joked, “Were you scared of me?”  Alexis’ laugh sounded incredulous, and I frowned.  Is it really that impossible for you to be scared of me?  Haven’t you been scared of me? 

“Don’t take that the wrong way,” she assured me gently, “but it was the opposite; I was worried you would be afraid of me.  I didn’t want to end up forcing you into something you weren’t ready for or didn’t want… again.  I do love you, Erica.  I never want you to feel helpless against me.  Not ever.”

Oh Alexis.  My eyes began to tear up the moment her rumbly soft voice had told me she loved me.  The rumble in her voice only grew stronger as she spoke, more seriousness placed behind it.  “If you ever feel like that, tell me, ok?  I’ll stop whatever I’m doing.  I promise.”  Giddy with joy, I sprung out of bed and raced over to Alexis, hugging her as best as I could with her being so much bigger than me.  I pulled myself into the fabric of her shirt, breathing in her mostly earthy scent.  

A quiet thanks escaped my lips.  “God, it’s so nice to have someone I can trust again.”  I don’t think I’d been properly hugged in a long time — unless you count our reunion in the city while I was drugged up on who-knows-what.  Suddenly, I felt something press lightly against the backs of my legs.  Realizing it was Alexis’ cupped hand, I let myself lean backwards, tucking my legs up into her palm.

Again it struck me just how massive she was.  Her grip was all-encompassing as her fingers slid around me, tucking me against her chest.  I snuggled deeply between them, wholly uncertain of what to even do with such an overwhelming mixture of relief and comfort.  I pressed her fingers tightly against me, as if the pressure would calm away such a giddy feeling.  Their textured pads slid down my legs and across my body, holding me tight.

Alexis’ heartbeat sounded so close too — just like earlier.  Only, instead of the quick pulsing throb of her calming down from near disaster, it was slow and rhythmic and loud, but in a weirdly quiet way.  The sound itself was soft and muffled, but the sheer scale of it made my bones rattle.  I would listen to it the rest of my life if I could.

There was something indescribably comforting in the way she could hold all of me in the palm of her hand.  It was terrifying at first, but now it just makes me feel cared for in a way I never really have before.  Confessing my feelings for Alexis had been a long-debated internal argument that went on from the moment I realized she’d actually returned, not just in my desperate imagination.  I don't doubt for a moment that I made the right decision.

Past her fingertips, I watched Alexis’ expression.  It flickered in a myriad of miniscule ways that you could never have noticed unless a person’s face were so much bigger than your own.  Her loving gaze grew into a little lopsided smile, which grew into a wide grin.  Heat crept across my cheeks seeing her look at me like that.  It suddenly felt a lot warmer than it did a few moments ago.  I stifled a nervous laugh, “You look so happy for once.”  Stretching out of her grip, I tried to shake off the flustered warmth.  “I am happy.  Are you?”  I nodded without a second’s hesitation.  “Never been happier,” I told her confidently.  “You think we can make things work this time?  I’m feeling really good about all this, which.. isn’t actually normal for me.”

I know what ‘normal’ is supposed to be: love unconditionally.  Or maybe it’s just a pipe dream for someone like me.  Yet.. with Alexis it’s different.  She- She really does love me.  There was really a time I told myself this was impossible; now look at me.  I was lifted up steadily until I sat in front of her face.  Alexis rested her lips on me, just beginning to kiss me again, but I stopped her with a light shove.  “Just-”  I paused, trying to think of what to tell her — how to tell her.  “Stay like this.”  I let her lips fall back across my body again.  It felt heavenly — the texture, the plush surface. 

My giddy adrenaline spike crashed into a wave of tiredness, and I gently sank against her.  “I love you so much.”  The last thing I remember feeling before I fell asleep was the slight curve of a smile against my side before I couldn’t stay awake any longer.

[inscrutable-shadow]

Whumptober 2023 Day 9 - Terrible Day for Rain

@whumptober-archive

No. 9: “Learning everything ain’t what it seems, that’s the thing about these days.”

Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You’re a liar.”

also available on ao3!

Avrae shoves her hands into her hoodie pocket and leans against the doorframe. “That’s everything.”

“Are you sure? You haven’t brought a lot,” I say quietly, looking around at the still fully furnished apartment.

She shrugs. “Everything I need is in the trunk. Rest is all… extra. Emsy’s kids can take it. I like to start over every now and again anyway.” She’s even left her guitar. I never thought she’d part with it.

I suppose I’ve never had to think about starting over. In the House Nocta enclave on Rigel, I was raised around vampires and those destined to become vampires. I never had to worry about outliving those I cared about by centuries or millennia. When you love a mortal, the turnover rate is so high that it’s only the blink of an eye before anyone who even remembered the one you attached yourself to is gone. 

"Can I help you carry anything?"

"Nope." 

Perhaps it would be in my interest to be more overt. "Will you bring more of your things if I help you carry them?"

She frowns. "Not likely. You're… really worried about that guitar, aren't you?  Did you buy me new amps again?" Guilty as charged. "Bea…"

"You love music, I… thought it would be nice to have something familiar and grounding in a new environment."

"I'm good at music. It's the 'being good at' that's of comfort, not the music itself." She's never talked about being good at much other than killing, so I'd rather she not give up what appears to be her only hobby other than those shooting games she plays. "If I let you bring my guitar case, will you stop giving me that face? Go get it, then." She knows me so well.

The case is made of fabric and not as heavy as I had expected. Avrae seems eager to leave this place behind, and doesn't even look back as she walks out. I pull the door closed behind me and call out to her "Wait for me!" She always walks so fast with those long legs of hers (that I find so attractive!) and the guitar bangs against my legs a few times as I try to keep up. Something clatters to the sidewalk, and I stop to pick it up.

It's a picture frame: made of stone and glass and obviously very old, over a millennium if I had to make a guess. The picture is in color, and shows eight people, most of whom are clearly related, smiling brightly in front of a large house. In the centre is a person I recognise. It's Avrae, or rather, Neandra, the much younger, blonde version. Beside her are a redheaded child with piercing green eyes and a sandy-haired man with the same infectious smile. She looks so… happy. I've never seen Avrae smile like this.

"If it's that heavy, I'll—" she's in the middle of saying, but stops when she sees what I’m holding. “Let’s go, Bea. Throw that out, will you?” She turns around again.

“Wait, isn’t this a picture of you before? You don’t want to keep it?” She doesn’t answer me, just keeps heading toward the rendezvous point where we’ll return to the transport. As much as I want to believe she knows what she’s doing, I feel she’ll regret it if she truly gets rid of everything that reminds her of her old life. At my age, I know how badly I long for those precious few years before my body was locked in place forever and how my most treasured memories continue to fade as I get older.

We return to the transport and put Avrae’s things into storage. This is a larger, slower craft than we used to get to the Arena, and it will be picking up other (mostly vampiric) passengers on its way back to the Council estates. The two of us take seats by a window and sit in silence for a few minutes. I’m still holding the picture frame, and I haven’t seen this expression on Avrae’s face since the Arena.

“You’re upset with me,” I state matter-of-factly.

“No.”

“Then what’s all this?”

She sighs. “You want to ask about it. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, forgive me if I want to know why you’d throw out what looks like a thousand-year old photograph of your family. That’s not starting over, honey, that’s scorched earth.”

She’s still not looking at me. “It doesn’t matter. I already can’t remember those people.”

Somehow, I don’t think that’s true. “One of these people is the man whose wedding band you still wear despite being in a new relationship, I find it hard to believe you don’t remember him.” I remember a few more from the soulscape, two of her sisters, and it’s not hard to assume that the other two are also here. “Surely you aren’t trying to forget?”

Avrae looks down at her hands. Her fingers are twisting the wedding ring like they always do when she’s stressed. She’s quiet for a long time, then, she speaks haltingly, as if ashamed. “That’s… the only way I remember their faces. They’re not up here—” and she gestures toward her temple— “anymore. Just fuzzy shapes. The picture feels wrong, too. I hate looking at it, I know that’s not what they really looked like. Not to me, anyway.”

“And so you thought you’d throw it away?”

“Don’t need it anymore. It’s not my only tie to a time in my life when I thought things were gonna be okay. I’m starting a new phase in life, with you. It's gonna be full of paperwork and being annoying to people working harder than me like when I lived with them, I guess, but I don’t want to just rehash things. Starting clean.” She sighs and finally looks up at me. “Maybe the reason all that… stuff keeps sticking to me is that I keep holding on to that shit. Maybe if I finally let it all go, I can stop feeling dirty.”

I put my hands over hers. “These people loved you, right? And you loved them? That could never be dirty. There’s so much happiness in this picture. When was it taken?”

“My five-hundred-and-first. My twin sister’s jubilee was the previous year, and since I didn’t have a title anymore it wasn’t right for me to have much of a celebration. They all insisted on throwing me a big party the next year to make up for it. Tried to surprise me, but you know me and my paranoia.” She laughs, but it feels hollow. There’s clearly a lot of emotion in this photograph for her still. “I’m the one who asked for the photo. I just wanted something with all of them in it. Jenny, that’s her,” she indicates a woman in her late thirties, “was getting on in years and it was clear the oracle was going to take Leiana soon. I thought it might be my last birthday with all of them there.”

I don’t understand the thing about the oracle, but that doesn’t seem important right now. I point to the red-headed child. “This is the daughter you talked about, right? The one you had with your husband?”

“Aubrey, yeah. Looks just like him, doesn’t she?”

Really, the resemblance is uncanny, like a perfect fusion of the two of them. “Looks just like both of you, actually. Do you really want to forget her?”

“No!” It comes out way too fast, and she tries to backtrack. “It’s too late. I’ve already forgotten her. Head’s full of vampire stuff now. No point in delaying the inevitable.”

I sigh. “I don’t… I don’t think you want to get rid of this photo, do you? You’re just tired of the pain that comes with remembering how much you’ve lost. It’s hard, and you’ve been fighting for something or another your entire life.” I see this in her eyes all of the time, the constant fatigue. So much younger than me, and yet ageing so much more quickly. “You just want to rest.” I move from my side of the table to slide in next to her. I wrap my arms around her and she immediately tucks her head into my chest. We don’t need to say anything more, and I’ll never tell anyone she was crying.

taglist: @athenswrites, @painful-pooch, @milkshakes-lust-and-chiral-dust, @thethistlegirlwrites, @albatris

[anonymousinthisworld]

Why do I feel like you are going to hurt me, even though you said that you wouldn’t? Am I stupid for believing you? Am I stupid for believing in you? I want to believe that you are the good guy. I’ve seen it in the way you treat me. But I feel like I am going crazy because I confronted you and you looked straight at me and said no. Even when I had insisted that you were lying, you continued to say no. In fact, you told me that you wanted to see if she was worthy of me. I was speechless. I never felt so special like I meant that much to you. It sounded like you wanted me to be in good hands. It sounded like you wanted me to have the best because you believed that I deserved nothing less. Or maybe you were referring to her physical appearance. Who knows. Either way, how can I believe what you said when everyone else would probably make a liar out of you? I want to believe you so badly, but I am afraid that you will hurt me and leave me looking foolish. I’ve heard things about you, but not once did you ever fail to show me those things. You never hid them from me and I appreciate that. Maybe you aren’t a liar after all. 

Why do I feel like once again everything is falling apart? Why does everything feel so familiar? Kind of like deja vu? Like I had lived through this before? Maybe because I already have. Why does the past keep coming back? “Nostalgia is denial of the painful present”. Is this why the past has become my oldest friend? I recently find myself resorting back to the “good old days”. I somehow find comfort in the past while being conflicted simultaneously because as there were bad moments, there were also good ones. I still remember the good times I had with the ones who are no longer in my life. In fact, I remember everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I don’t miss the people who had done me wrong. Only the memories. I miss the things that created those memories. The things that reminded me of the good times when those times were much more simple than what is it now. 

Why does it feel like I am about to lose everything? My life is like a domino effect. When one knocks down, the rest of them follow. I already got rid of one, but who is to say that I wouldn’t eventually get rid of you? I don’t want to, but am I stupid for keeping you around when you don’t want a relationship? Even though I don’t want to hop into one either? Not that I wouldn’t want to be in one with you, but you told me that you don’t want to be in one because you recently got out of one. And not to only put it all on you, but let’s just say that I am complicated too. It doesn’t matter what we call ourselves. As long as you care about me as I do about you. I still want to get to know you better. I still want to see where things go. Truth be told, I want to see if there will ever be a light at the end of the tunnel. Some kind of happy ending for us, even though those only exist in fairytales. I don’t need an official title from you. I want you and I don’t want anyone else to ruin what we have. I want to keep you safe from everyone else. I want to protect you. To protect us. The way that I couldn’t in the past. 

What am I really afraid of? Not commitment that’s for sure. I want to only commit to you, but I have a hard time imagining my life with you in it when things are not at all perfect. I am struggling to fit you into my messiness. I want things to be perfect, but they aren’t. I don’t want to expose you to the imperfect parts of my life along with my baggage only for you to run away. What would be the point? I clearly have trust issues. I do not trust people enough to fully let them in unless they are in it for the long haul. You are starting to see how negative I can be. Does that scare you? Am I not who you expected me to be? Does that make me a fraud? Do you feel deceived?

Why do you still want me around? I bet you can see that I am falling harder for you every time I see you. I think it is safe to say that I am most definitely falling for you. I can’t get you out of my head. Eventually this wall of mine will tumble down and all I will be left with is feeling raw. I feel that you are ignoring the truth regarding my feelings for you. Is this why I sometimes feel you distant? Hoping that I won’t fall harder for you after each moment we spend together? Or is that part all in my head? Because you asked me not to go and you wanted me to come back even if it was only for one day.

You reciprocated those feelings, but why is it that I still doubt you? Why am I convinced that I misunderstood you when you told me that you have feelings for me too? You said that we were “good friends” and friends can have sex. Isn’t that what we call “friends with benefits” though? Apparently not because you said that I meant more to you than simply having sex and then kicking me out of your bed. However, you still refer us as friends. Friends is what you want us to be. But how can I be your friend when I never saw you as one for having these feelings? You have feelings for me too, yet you want to remain only friends… but for how long? Until you find someone better? That’s not what you told me though. You could have left me twice, but you chose to stay anyway. “What are you doing to me” is what you said.

Am I afraid of falling in love as I did once before? Letting myself go only to be left alone again in the dark? With nothing but a heartbreak? I closed off my heart for six years. Am I afraid of going backwards? Am I afraid of resorting back to old patterns?

Why am I constantly wanting you? What is it about you that made me want you more? It is the way you make me laugh? Because gosh you are so funny. You always have me laughing on the floor and you have no idea how good that makes me feel. You make me happy. When I smile, my heart smiles too. The truth is that I don’t know how I feel about you in terms of love. But I know that there is something true here. I liked the last guy. I truly did, but why does this time feel so different? Something I still quite don’t understand. You have me hooked. 

I feel like somehow I am going to lose you, even though you were never mine. I like being yours, even though I am technically not yours. In all fairness, I always feel that way. I can never catch a break.

Why am I so confused? I have plenty of questions yet to be answered. What did I get myself into? I did not see this coming. The truth is that we never do. I have become attached to you and I don’t think that is fair to you. I am sorry for not telling you. The truth is that I don’t know whether or not I am in love with you, but why does it feel like I am? I told you that I did not want you to go, but is this the part where I have to let you go? Or, is this me simply trying to self-sabotage? 

I made the rookie mistake in getting involved with you knowingly that I had interest in you from the start. That’s on me. But I did not anticipate that we would come this far. Look at us. How could you not feel the same way for me as I do for you? Is this why you haven’t let go of us too? If I told you that I have become attached to you, what would you do? Would you continue to stay by my side? Or is this the part where we would say our goodbyes?

You allowed me not to hold back. I thank you for that. I enjoyed and cherished every moment spent with you, especially the rare moments when I completely expressed myself to you. Physically and emotionally. Is this as vulnerable as I will ever get with you? That’s my fear by the way. Being “naked” in front of you as I let you enter my world… where nothing is ever as it seems because I sometimes feel that I am wearing a mask… making it seem like everything is alright when it isn’t. The truth is that I am a fucking mess. Would you still want me if you knew what truly lies underneath the clothes?

Why does everything feel so different after I left? Before I left, you asked me if I loved you and I said no because that was the truth then. But what about now? You stopped checking in. Are you now afraid of learning the truth? Are you afraid of feeling the need to leave me if you were to know how I truly feel about you? Some would say that would be the right thing to do.

I don’t want you to drop me like I don’t mean anything to you. That’s what I told you before I left. Well, the first part anyway. I generally have a hard time opening up. I think you realized it too. In fact, I had told you this from the start. And you told me among other things that you wouldn’t do that to me. Not in that order, but you get the picture. All I can hope for is that you meant what you said. 

Why do I feel that you are the very last? As if you’ll be the last person I end up with? Like there will be nobody else after you? As if I’ll never love again. I never thought that I would feel this way again. I don’t want you to be another lesson, but I am afraid that is all you are and will ever be. If it weren’t for you, then I would have not let go of my past best friend… I am tired of the past coming back. Are you just another ripple effect? But you mean so much more to me than that. 

I respect that you don’t want a relationship. You told me that you want to focus on yourself. You also told me that you don’t do long distance. Who does that remind you of? Because I’ve heard that line before. I don’t need a relationship from you. Although, I would be lying if I told you that I did not want to at least try and see if we could ever be in one down the line… but for now, I want exclusivity. I want for you to call me yours and for me to call you mine, even though we are not officially together. I also want reassurance. I want to know that you won’t leave. That you won’t leave me for someone else who has probably more to offer. As you once said, we are walking on two different paths. In that moment, you sounded like somebody I used to know. Despite of that, I still want you, whatever that means… and I don’t want you to give up on me either. 

No matter what happens… I hope I mean so much to you as you do to me. That I am not just another girl to you. Not just another one that you’ll tell the next girl “how we grew apart from one another.” No matter what happens… I think there will always be space for you in my heart too. Because that’s what love does to you. And I say “too” because my first love will always be there as well. I believe in true love and true love is never forgotten and forever cherished. I will never forget him, but why do I get this feeling that you will forever be in my heart too. And I hope I’ll always be in yours. It’s hard to fill the shoes of another who also meant so much to me. But I don’t want you to because I like you the way you are. Even your goofiness that nobody seems to understand. Not even me. I don’t expect you to live in someone else’s shadow. I don’t want to put you on a pedestal. Like I did with him. You asked me multiple times why I liked you as if you couldn’t believe that I could actually like you. I never gave you a straight answer, but to answer your question now… how could I not? Love is not rational. Something that I am still trying to figure out for myself. I can’t believe that I felt deeply for you as I can’t even imagine saying goodbye to you. That would hurt like hell. 

I wish things were more simple though. Maybe that is why my first love pops into my head from time to time. Even though I am tired of chasing that ghost. It’s a constant battle. I will forever be grateful for him. He was the only one who knew what he wanted and went after it. There was no bullshit. No baggage. No backstory. And when it did not work out… well, at least we can say that we tried. We tried to see if things could go passed the first stage. I realized that even though we did not take our relationship to the next level, he still gave me a chance to see if we could ever be in one. This is why he told me that we were seeing each other. Seeing each other was the chance he had given me. I realized that now. After things ended, I was so angry with him for feeling that he never bothered to give us a shot at a relationship only to realize now that he actually did give us one… it just didn’t work out in our favour. And he was the only one who ever did.

Going back to you though, I hope one day for you to give me that same chance since you are not ready now. Like he did for me. But at the same time, we probably are walking on two different paths… or as he had put it “we are at two different points in our lives”. Something that always stuck with me because that was the truth then and is still the truth now. The very same truth that continued to linger in my other relationships after him…including ours. 

Life is no fairytale. You don’t always get a happy ending. Or that happy ending is not always how you imagined it to be. You can’t always get what you want. Sometimes in life, you have to make a choice. And every time, I chose myself because they did not choose me. But I am hoping that it will be different this time around. 

You encouraged me to go further. He did too. And everyone else in-between. And as they didn’t want me to give up, you don’t either. And I won’t because I worked very hard to get to where I am today. You have no idea. You have no idea how long it took me to get here. The obstacles that I faced. I did not give myself another chance only to throw it away. I love you, but I can’t ignore my destiny… whatever that maybe. I believe in myself. I believe that I can aim higher elsewhere than here. I realized that after him, I am meant to be elsewhere… or I at least owe it to myself to try. Which is also why it would have not worked out between him and I. As it would probably not work out between you and I if I were to move away from here. Can’t you see that there is a pattern? That school always comes in the way of everyone whom I was involved with? The story of my life as I call it. But I hope that pattern breaks starting with you. And if it doesn’t, then that’s okay too because I don’t expect you to uproot your entire life for me. From what I can tell, your life is here. Set in stone. But the question is, what about mine? To be continued I guess. I believe in destiny, but I also believe in free will, which is why I am feeling hopeful about us, even though deep down I convinced myself that our story will end the way that it always has… apart.

It’s hard to let go of the past when there is still unfinished business. He will always be my reference. He showed me what a real man was and how man should treat a woman. One of the reasons as to why I will always hold him to a higher standard. No one is perfect, but he was perfect to me. I thought that I was done with the past, but clearly I am not because my mind seems to wonder back there. I find myself walking down memory lane. Feeling that the past is repeating itself. Feeling bombarded with all these reminders of what used to be. How can I move forward if I keep looking back? I need to accept you for who you are because you are not him. I need to stop comparing, even though I see some parts of him in you. After letting go of my past best friend, I was eager to start fresh and see where our story would lead without my past interfering. I wanted to stop the ripple effects of a decision that I had made a long time ago. Hoping to put an end to the hauntings of my ghost once and for all. Yet, I continue to see my past in my present. Probably because I never really left. One foot in and one foot out as they say. 

I am afraid of you hurting me the way he did. I am afraid of you leaving me the way he did. But I am mostly tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop. Constantly waiting for the part where you decide to tell me “goodbye” rather than “see you later”. I want to enjoy my time with you… whatever time we have left. The unfinished business doesn’t lie with him. It lies with me and the feelings I was left with when he ghosted me. I lost faith in you and you are not the one who left, even though as we speak, I feel that you might leave me again and again. Despite his screwup, I still see the good in him as I still see the good in you. I thought that I dealt with my past only to realize that I buried my past in the ground and ran away assuming that I would never look back. However, the past crept up on me… or maybe I carried him on my shoulders along with the rest of my baggage. Is this why my upper body feels tensed? Is this why my shoulders feel heavy? As if I have been carrying this weight around for a while now. I am at war with myself. I am my own worst enemy. 

As you can see, this is what goes on in my head. The wheels in my head never stop turning as I am constantly overthinking. The truth is that I do not know what lies in store for us, but I need to start having faith in you. I need to start trusting that you won’t leave me over the littlest things. I need to start believing that you won’t walk away even when you're mad at me. I need to start trusting that you won’t “get bored of me” and change your mind as you told me that you are not going anywhere. I need to start believing that you are not lying to me when you tell me that you care. If we can’t trust each other, then what are we doing? I can’t assume that we are done after one conversation. I need to hear it from you. As you said you would. Because according to you, goodbye means forever. So, I guess you’re stuck with me then because I sure as hell am not going anywhere. This isn’t goodbye for us. More like see you later. 

[the-firebird69]

It seems that they have stopped taking these ships here

Zeus

They actually did and for a time for a few days and they're going around saying they were they took some out yesterday and stopped again but the levels of the water are down and someone said 96 in which I believe is 8 ft and that's pretty far

Hera

And we have some announcements the foreigners have made a ring around the outside of the former pseudo empire bunkers and effectively sealed in the warlock and they're on the outside of their area and they're asking how they're supposed to get supplies and they're not getting a response and they're doing that because the idiots are going to sit there the same way that the max are in the same way the pseudo empire were and they plan to take it over after they're done building and which never works and remind them it doesn't work laziness is evil and they're saying so what will cream you too and there's a lot of words and yelling and screaming and the empire is sitting there watching thinking they'll get rid of each other so without further ado the warlock slowly moving out and in the direction of the Mac bunkers which yes sir underground but there's entrances in the desert and they are going to approach them and it is the empire that they're approaching and people are saying we do see the empire shifts in the movie and people are fighting them and it's going on right now that the warlock are engaging shortly possibly the empire and we shall see

Thor Freya I've been here the whole time I do see what he's saying it's a momentous occasion he's not acting like it's very huge but he knows what will happen and it's really been waited for for thousands of years and he's only waited his entire life and he's been working towards this and it is necessary and the empire is just abusing him so he's thankful that it's happening I guess he's busy right now and he says no I'm dictating what you're saying and that's true we have a lot of stuff going on today a full docket there are lawsuits against the idiots and they're just about to get sued for real in the field and heavily they don't stand a chance and if they do the foreigners are going to follow up and hit them they let them fill up and they're not engaging them in and out engaging them in the populace unless they try and grab them or other people they go after them and that might happen but we think that it will be somewhat tame now we are there as well monitoring we are also in some of the ranks preparing and we do know what they're saying then the foreigners are saying the max need to go down no matter what flavor they're arrogant plus words even if they clean out septic tanks for a living they run around with their head up in the sky cuz if they're lineage they're trying to do it to him and he shed it and the response is negative and he could care less he doesn't want it and he said it too he's going around hurting each other very badly and you don't have me with anything so what's the point of being you there's no point to it he'd rather be who we really is and poor anyways I mean he wouldn't trade it for money but boy you guys don't even care so he doesn't care he acted and you paid for it now you're getting ready to fight each other that's what our son says and daughter and it's starting momentarily and the forces are there in case the max break the hardware out and take over the planet to force the ships into their possession and they've been building all the hardware for those ships we're getting ready and we are preparing for a war right now and it will happen in some sort of form and the morlock are going to attack what happens after has yet to be seen but one can imagine you can't leave that hardware there

Olympus

This is a momentous day in history it is one of the largest climaxes in this war against satanists. We have prepared all our lives for what we think will happen today and we're also cherishing the fact that Olympus has helped us so much we're having a lot of problems and our people will see why today you'll see why our people are in Jeopardy here on Earth and it will be black and white we expect a lot of recruiting to occur and we're requesting Olympus repair recruiters everywhere and hire back anybody and hire anyone with military credentials to do it and this is going to be a tremendous day that we do remember it all but he's got to get himself maintained all the time and he's keeping up with it and he wants to and he wants to see me and be with me. Thank you all our people and God bless and prepare yourselves for repercussions this is going to be felt everywhere by everybody

Hera Zues

Hera said most of that and her husband is amazed and of course said a little bit but he does say exactly what she is and he says it now

Thor Freya

[oathofpromises]

Ada wasn't one to show emotions, especially around someone that she wasn't entirely sure where his loyalties laid. Could the spy really say she wasn't similar in that aspect, though? Not that the woman would ever admit that openly, though. A slight scoff escaped her lips. This man, he could try and hide it all he wants, but she could tell he was trying to make up for mistakes made. Yes, she knew a little of the Spanish Researcher's background, not a lot since he was shrouded in mystery himself, but enough to know that look in his eyes. It was a feeling the woman knew too well herself. A reminder of the mistakes she had made to get to this point. The people she had betrayed to achieve her own goals.

Closing her eyes, she emitted a soft sigh, trying her best to remain natural. There's no way the woman in red would allow anyone to catch sight of her true motives, not even Wesker, who for all intentions purpose thought the spy was working for him. That was how she preferred to keep things, a secret until it was the right time to reveal her cards. Everything was going exactly how she figured it would. It seemed Leon was causing quite a stir with the villagers allowing her to remain undeducted from their eyes.

“I’m sticking my neck out for you too Luis. You are well aware of our arrangement. You get me the sample and I keep you save from those pesky villagers. Least you forgot helping Leon and that girl isn’t a high priority.”

Ada words contradicted her actions though, considering this whole time she was helping Leon in ways that she could. Perhaps it was her trying to keep the agent on his toes. Make him question where her own loyalties were. People could think she was cold hearted even someone who didn’t care what happened to the world. Ada simply had her own goals and didn’t feel the need to explain them to anyone. Didn’t matter if they had history or not.

The woman slowly walked towards Luis, before placing a pack of smokes into his hand. It wasn’t like she was going to deny the man a cigarette especially not when everything around them were falling apart, plus she figured he was probably almost out of his last pack anyway. Glancing down at her phone, there was a new message from Wesker. She rolled eyes a bit, noticing how demanding the man sounded even through a text message. He really wanted that sample so badly but the cost..it was too high a price. She couldn’t let them see her cards just yet. Krauser was already sensing something was off yet Ada was able to keep fooling Wesker, at least for time being. Who knows what he would do once he learned the woman planned to betray him too. It was just a matter of all the players doing their part.

‘What is taking so long Ada. Retrieve the sample and while your at it get rid of that American agent. He’s nothing but a distraction.’

Ada had to laugh, as she tucked her phone away. She was slowly beginning to get a bigger picture of exactly the man Wesker truly was, and how far he would go to ensure his plan succeeded. Turning back to Luis, she leaned against a nearby tree tossing the researcher a cold calculating stare.

“Sera. Our time is running out, the longer you play hero with those two. The quicker the sample will be out of our reach, now be a good boy and let’s go grab it. My patience is running very thin.”

It wasn’t like she wanted to play babysitter, but seemed like so many of people she ran into required someone keep a close eye on things. At least Luis could fire a gun, so he wasn’t completely helpless. Maybe if they worked together she could ensure sample made it’s way into her hands and also learn a bit more about the others true intentions. He was a mystery in himself, never played his cards out either. Which made Luis, an interesting case since Ada could easily read someone but with him it was difficult to attain the answers she seeked. At least if they traveled together for now, she could keep a close eye on him. Maybe even figure out what Luis plan was. Nothing escaped her eyes for long.

Continued from here with @braverybled

[itsmyartfam]

Dadzawa fic rec list

So lately I’ve been reading a lot of Dadzawa fics so I thought I’d share them with you. I shortened down the summaries of some of the longer ones- I didn’t put them in my own words of course, but I just used the shortened snippets that authors sometimes put at the end of their own longer summaries. They’re in no particular order of greatness, and I tried to get a good blend of popular and less popular ones so here u go.

1) i. shaky hands- rexcorvidae

midoriya has chronic pain, and tries to hide it. aizawa deals with this, and learns something surprising along the way.

One-Shot. Honestly their whole whumptober collection is amazing I would totally read them all if you have the time, they’re pretty much all loaded with great Dadzawa content

2) Not all exits are made Equal- LunaLucrea

When a raid goes wrong, and Aizawa gets taken, he's hardly expecting to be found. He's a professional Underground Hero. He's seen situations like this play out before, and knows how the cards usually fall.

He's got people he'll miss of course, and he feels terrible about what this is going to do to Hizashi and Eri, but these are the types of risks he agreed to when he signed on the dotted line all those years ago. He's ready to accept his fate.

Too bad for him his former students are tenacious little shits.

Three chapters. I love seeing how Aizawa interacts with older Midoriya in the first chapter and how he thinks of all of his former students now that they’re pro heroes, he’s such a proud dad but he’s also so self-deprecating and he needs some love and class 1-A will force it on him. Wholesome, 10/10, but also warning for whump! on Aizawa’s part.

3) To the people we admire- The_ crownless_ queen

Eri learns about autographs, and how they're a way for fans to show they like their heroes. Naturally, she wants all of them — and especially Eraserhead's.

One-Shot. I don’t read many Eri fics but my god, this one is adorable. Eri learns about autographs and wants Aizawa’s but his students know that Aizawa doesn’t really give autographs so they devise a plan to get one out of him- basically by making him jealous of Eri getting autographs from every hero but him. It’s wholesome, Dadzawa is like ‘wtf Eri’, I love it.

4) Inhibitions- Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

Todoroki gets zapped by a Quirk that effectively lowers someone's inhibitions, and Aizawa deals with the strange, humorous, heart-breaking fallout.

The train ride back is something of a nightmare. Not because it goes badly, or because something awful happens, but because Aizawa can’t get rid of this feeling in his chest every time he sees Todoroki’s unusual, carefree smile. He looks like nothing has ever hurt him.

One-Shot. Lol, this one’s funny- Todoroki acts all loopy and carefree and Aizawa is frantically scrambling after him trying to make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble, all while finding out more than he’d ever thought he’d learn about his student. Good shit, good comedy, good angst.

5) I consider myself lucky- alightintheshadows

For some of us, our teachers are the greatest role models we'll ever have.

One-Shot. Ugh, this is so sappy and kinda cheesy but I love it! Izuku gives his dads All Might and Aizawa gifts because he loves is grateful to them. WHOLESOME SHIT

6) Not in the Job Description- IidaRei98

A collection of drabbles revolving around the Dadazawa and Class 1A. Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort - whatever pops into my head really!

Incomplete, 56/? Chapters. Solid collection of dadzawa drabbles. I didn’t finish reading them all because I get easily distracted away from long fics, but since it doesn’t follow a plot it’s easy to put down and pick back up when you wanna get your dadzawa fix.

7) passing through fire- achievingelysium

“What happened? A villain?”

“Ye- yeah,” Midoriya croaks. Shouta starts walking.

“I was there,” Shouta says, feeling through the words before he speaks, “but I don’t remember?”

Midoriya closes his eyes.

“No,” he agrees, “you wouldn’t. But- but you... were there. With... me.”

Aizawa finds himself in a street with little memory of how he got there. Then he discovers Midoriya, beaten and bruised, who claims Aizawa protected him—but as Aizawa regains pieces of his memory he realizes Midoriya may be lying, and he's the one who's done his own student harm.

One-Shot. OOH, OUCH, FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE! God I love the Dadzawa ANGST in this! I haven’t seen a dadzawa fic with a plot like this before, so I highly recommend checking this one out, especially if you like ANGST! Love it!

8) a penny for your thoughts- cassiopeia721

While visiting Eri at the hospital following her rescue from the Shie Hassaikai, Izuku and Aizawa-sensei both run into a nurse with a telepathy based quirk, and Izuku finds himself in a telepathic bond with his teacher. This is... somewhat worrying, considering how many secrets Izuku needs to keep.

Six chapters. Yet another Dadzawa fic with a unique concept that I have never come across before. Very good, much angst! My only complaint is I wish Izuku could’ve heard a bit more of Aizawa’s angsty thoughts, the whole thought-hearing did feel a bit one-sided at times, but overall it was a very good fic. The angst of Izuku struggling to keep his many secrets from Aizawa for a whole week was *chef’s kiss* Good dad-son bonding.

9) Geyser- spineless

Izuku faints during class when weeks of sleeping and eating poorly catch up with him. Aizawa, All Might, and his friends, remind him that no matter what he's going through, he doesn't have to do it alone.

Three Chapters. Good Dadzawa being all disapproving of his son Izuku pushing himself too hard and not taking care of himself like he can fucking talk lol. But also some angst cuz Izuku is a tormented boi who has been through too much and is Not OkayTM and his dads are there to help him.

10) The World on His Shoulders- baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

During their second year, Aizawa decides to take some of the students on patrol to give them a taste of the underground hero life. But of course, nothing goes as planned when UA's resident Problem Child is involved.

One-Shot. Izuku is a BAMF and Aizawa is like O.O. I can’t say anything more. This fic deserves more attention.

____________________________________________________

Okie dokie, that’s enough for now. If you guys like my recommendations, maybe I’ll make another list in the future! 

[seijorhi]

Finders Keepers

the long awaited (sorry!) zombie au. hope y’all enjoy

Seijoh 4 x female reader & Miya twins x female reader 

TW Blood, gore, angst, um... toxic relationships?

“Let me see.”

It’s little more than a murmur, but in the quiet stillness of the night your voice carries. It hardly matters; Oikawa has you close, tucked under his arm with his injured leg stretched out between the two of you. He could stop you if he really wanted, but he only watches, those tired, wary eyes fixed on your face as you reach for his pants. 

“It’s fine,” he grunts out, yet he can barely get the words out before he’s hissing through his teeth – a knee jerk reaction to the scrape of rough fabric against his wound. His fingers are digging painfully into your arm, and it doesn’t make a difference how gentle you try to be, how many stammered apologies fall from your lips, your fingers are stiff and clumsy and his pants are caked with dried blood and grime, hindering the process.

Pursing your lips, you glance up. “This would go easier if you took these off, you know.”

He cracks a smile at that, strained and tense, but your chest still flutters at the sight of it. “If you wanna get my pants off so badly, cutie, all you had to do was ask.”

“Tooru,” you begin, but he sighs heavily and that brief flicker of mirth glimmering in his eyes fades. Reaching over he picks up his hunting knife, pressing the handle into your palm and letting his fingers slowly curl around yours. The weight of it feels unwieldy and foreign in your hand, and you can’t quite say for sure if the way your breath picks up and hitches is due to your nerves or the way Oikawa’s watching you, his warm hand still wrapped around yours.

“Cut it, then.”

The knife helps, shearing through his pants like butter, but the wound itself is messy – torn threads plastered to congealed blood and dirt – and blunt fingernails sink into your skin and Oikawa grits out a curse when you try to gently ease them free. 

It’s worse than you’d thought. A lot worse. Raked over his right knee, five gouges, jagged and gruesome, raw flesh and muscle exposed beneath. Your stomach roils at the sight of it, bile creeping up your throat, and for a moment you’re astounded by how calm he is, sitting there beside you. 

If it were you, you’re fairly sure you’d be rolling on the ground howling by now, but the only hint of pain Oikawa’s face betrays is the tightness of his jaw, teeth clenched even as he looses a shuddering breath.

“I-I’ll go see if I can find something to…” to what? Clean the wound? Stitch it? You’re not an idiot, unless this little cottage has an incredibly well stocked first aid kit, you know you’re in trouble. And even if it does, beyond the very basics of clean, disinfect and bandage, you don’t know how the hell you’re supposed to fix this.

Iwaizumi was always the one to stitch up their wounds, muttering obscenities under his breath and glaring at them the whole time. It was their own idiot faults for putting themselves in a position where they could get hurt in the first place, he’d say, they could deal with a little pain while he fixed them up. But as you stare at the grisly mess of Oikawa’s knee, there’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that this might be beyond even Iwa’s level of expertise. 

It doesn’t matter anyway, because Iwa isn’t here. 

Makki and Mattsun aren’t either.

And strangely enough, it’s not the fear of the creatures lurking in the woods that’s gnawing at your gut. It’s Oikawa’s injury, the blood and mangled mess that you can’t even begin to fix, the thought of the trap that’s awaiting the others back at the sanctuary. It’s that feeling of helplessness that’s tightening around your neck like a noose.

“Hey,” Oikawa calls, snagging at your wrist when you try to pull away. “They’ll find us, have a little faith.”

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you nod. “I know.”

You don’t have the guts to tell him that that’s only half the problem.

Making do with vodka and some old bandages you’d scrounged up from a first aid kit under the sink, you do what you can for Tooru’s knee. Working by the light of a few flickering candles, your hands shaking like a leaf, it's a job easier said than done, and you can’t help but wince at every pained hiss and grunt that escapes him. 

It’s a hack job, a bandaid over a gaping wound, but he thanks you for it anyway, pressing an affectionate kiss to your temple as he drags you closer once more. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he murmurs, and the words hang heavy over the both of you; a promise and a sobering reminder in one.

Tucked up in his embrace, you shut your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep. 

Yet the moment you do, you’re right back there again: the hallway doors bursting open and the undead pouring through. Rotting and snarling, the sound of panicked shrieks tearing through the sanctuary in their wake.

Tooru’s hand in yours, yanking you along as he ran. Your heartbeat, pounding in your ears as you gasped for breath, your chest burning. And the fear, the horror that threatened to choke you as the others fell behind, their frantic pleas turning into agonised screams.

Everybody else first. The words spoken before any one of them left the safety of the sanctuary; you’d always assumed it was a grim kind of joke between the boys, a good luck charm. How many times had you heard Mattsun laugh it, clapping Iwa on the shoulder, or Makki for that matter, or Oikawa?

‘Come home safe’, you’d thought it meant, not ‘rip the guns out of other survivors’ hands and throw them back into the path of the oncoming undead’.

And then you’d stumbled, tripping over your own two feet. You remember Oikawa cursing, the pain that radiated up your knees and the palms of your hands as you hit the floor hard, and the absolute, bone chilling terror that surged through you when you looked up and saw one of the undead creatures lunge for you; jaw hanging loose, more ripped flesh and gristle than an actual mouth–

Oikawa was too far away, too slow, and even if he wasn’t, you’d just witnessed the lengths he’d go to for self preservation. You’d screamed for him anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and praying you’d go quickly when those fingers and yellowing teeth dug into your flesh and ripped you apart.

And in the space of a single petrified heartbeat, three shots had rung through the air, a warm wetness splattering against your cheek. Tooru was there, kicking the rotting corpse away from you and hauling you back to your feet, back safely against his side.

But the next one was quicker, leaping over the husk of its fallen friend, snarling and bloody and savage, and then it was Tooru who was screaming, undead fingers sinking into the flesh of his leg, ripping as it tried to claw him back.

Heart pounding viciously, your eyes shoot open in the darkness.

Even with the reassurance of Oikawa’s frame pressed up behind you, his breath warm against your skin, sleep doesn’t come easy, and the dawn brings little reprieve.

Stupidly, you’d hoped – prayed – that somehow through the night he might’ve gotten better. It was early in the morning when you’d felt him start to shiver against you. You’d tried to roll away, to give him space so you wouldn’t accidentally knock his leg, but Tooru was having none of it, burrowing in closer, his grip tightening.

And when you’d felt him start to sweat, his arms becoming sticky and clammy, his shirt dampening at your back, that slow, cloying sense of dread took root inside of your stomach.

Under the first rays of morning light, the true extent of Oikawa’s condition is unignorable. Without the luxury of being able to properly close the wound, blood’s seeped through the bandages overnight, leaving them a mottled, macabre red. His face is pale, a thin sheen of sweat dotting at his brow and with every shallow, rattling breath he takes, his body trembles.

It’s more than just simple blood loss.

You think for a moment that he’s unconscious, long lashes fanned out over flushed cheekbones, but the moment you reach for the bandages, his eyes snap open. “Don’t,” he rasps.

You frown, “Tooru–”

“No,” he says. “It’s fine. Leave it alone.”

Between him and Iwaizumi, and to a certain extent, Makki and Mattsun, you’ve never had much of a say in how things are run. You’ve never questioned that they’re the ones in charge, Oikawa most of all. They’re the ones who’ve kept you safe, kept you alive all this time, and all they’ve ever asked of you is that you do what they say.

And you have. Always. Because without them, you’d be dead. You don’t have to pick up a gun and fight, because they do it for you. You don’t have to go on supply runs because they take care of it, they take care of you. And it’s never mattered whether it’s just been the five of you out there alone, or if you were banding together with other survivors; that’s never changed – no matter how many dirty looks it earned you from the others.

You are their responsibility, but in return, you do what they tell you without question.

But this–

This isn’t like that. This isn’t you begging Iwaizumi to take you with him on perimeter patrol because you’ve been cooped up for what feels like weeks, or pouting because they’re deliberately keeping things from you again. 

And maybe they have kept you in the dark, but you’re not blind and you’re not stupid. The reality of this situation hasn’t escaped you. 

The sanctuary’s overrun, and if – when – Iwa, Makki and Mattsun make it back, they’ll be walking into an ambush. Even if by some miracle they do manage to all make it out unscathed and somehow figure out a way to pick up your trail, there’s no telling how long it’ll take for them to find their way back to you.

(You can’t bear to think about the possibility of them not coming home; you won’t.)

Right now, it’s just you and Oikawa, stuck in some abandoned cottage in the middle of nowhere with nothing but a rifle and a baseball bat between you. You have no food, no supplies and he’s getting weaker by the minute.

You’re terrified.

And you don’t have the luxury of sitting back and letting somebody else take care of you anymore. You don’t stand a chance of survival without Oikawa, and right now he doesn’t stand a chance without you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shake your head. “Okay, I won’t touch it, but I’m not just going to sit here and watch you get worse.” Smoothing your palms over your lap, you take a deep breath in through your nose. “There’s a prison–”

“No.”

“Tooru–”

“I said no,” he snaps.

Biting back a sigh, you try again, “Tooru, there might be supplies there,” you plead. “Painkillers, antibiotics, something that might help–”

“I don’t need antibiotics and you’re not leaving. We need to stay here where it’s safe until the others find us,” he grits out, eyes narrowing dangerously. 

Normally, this would be the point that you’d back off, running off to lick your wounds before he decided to get mean, but even as some part of you cowers at the mere thought of upsetting him, this time you don’t back down.

He watches warily as you lean over, pressing a kiss to his cheek, gently smoothing damp brown locks back from his sweat slicked forehead. “I don’t know when Iwa’s coming back,” you murmur. “But until he does, the prison’s our best chance, if I can just–”

“No!” he snarls, cutting you off once again.

His eyes are manic now, blown wide and glazed over, he’s shivering, his breath a faint rattle – but his grip is iron, long fingers clutching at you desperately when you jerk back with a gasp.

“You don’t leave me.”

You don’t want to. 

It’d be easy not to, to sit and stay with him and pretend that your world isn’t falling apart and he isn’t dying. You’ve never been a fighter, always too soft, too weak, too naive to survive out there on your own. The thought of setting one foot outside of that door without him by your side fills you with absolute terror, but what other options do you have?

He might not like it, but you’re out of time – this decision isn’t his to make anymore.

“Tooru, I-I have to, you know–”

“No!” he snaps, dragging you closer. “You’re not leaving me, I won’t fucking let you!”

Your hand trembles when you reach up to take his, easing it from your shirt and bringing it to your lips. Tears spill from your lashes, falling in heavy droplets against the back of his hand as Oikawa makes a pained sound.

“Please don’t go.”

You both know he can’t stop you.

“Keep the gun,” you tell him, mustering up a tight, watery smile. “Anything but Iwa and our boys comes through that door, shoot it.”

—

It seems a cruel, twisted joke that you find a perfectly good truck sitting a little ways up the driveway, just begging to be used – with no way of getting it started.

Mattsun always made hot wiring look so easy, tossing you a wink when the engine rumbled to life, as if it was a neat little party trick he’d pulled out just to impress you. He did it so quickly, so smoothly, ripping the wires out and sparking them like it was second nature, but he’d never bothered to actually explain what he was doing to you.

And why would he? Between the four of them, there’d always be somebody else to take care of it for you. It’s the same reason they never taught you how to shoot, never taught you how to fight beyond the very basics of self defence.

Now, trudging along the side of the barren road with nothing but your baseball bat and a canteen of water slung over your hip, you find yourself wishing you’d paid a little more attention. Ten miles hadn’t seemed that far on paper – it was less than the trek back into town and you’d figured a safer bet, but walking around in broad daylight without any kind of real protection feels like you’re begging to be preyed upon. Yet by some stroke of luck (and despite that persistent nagging sense that you’re being watched) you manage to make it to the perimeter gates without coming across another soul, dead or alive.

The towering brick walls topped with spirals of barbed wire that line the prison complex are as imposing as they are unbreachable, and for a moment, standing there staring up at them, you feel a crushing sense of disappointment. You’ve walked over two hours, left Tooru in pain and alone for nothing. There’s no way in hell you’re gonna be able to scale those walls, and without any kind of bolt cutters or firepower, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to get past the front gates. 

Iwa would’ve known that. Iwa would’ve been better prepared. 

But as you draw closer to the guardhouse, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that it’s not a problem. The heavy wrought iron gate’s already unlocked and open, creaking in the breeze. And really, that should have been the first warning sign, but you’re too busy thanking your lucky stars as you slide on through to pay attention to things like that.

The courtyard is just as deserted. The crunch of gravel underfoot echoes too loud, setting your nerves on edge as you make your way towards the imposing structure. It’s quiet, eerily so – even the birds seem to have disappeared. Is this how all raids feel, you wonder as you climb the steps towards the door. This sense of foreboding dread that settles in your stomach, the goosebumps that prickle down your arms? 

Your grip tightens around the handle of your bat and you press gingerly against the door – just like the guardhouse gate, it gives under your touch, swinging open wide. It’s dark inside; you hadn’t thought to bring a torch and with the absence of any windows lining the corridor it’s near pitch black. Your heart hammers inside your chest, every cell in your body screaming at you to turn around and run back to Tooru, but you’ve come this far already. 

The undead flock to fresh, living meat. It’s been months since the outbreak began; anyone unfortunate enough to have found themselves trapped inside when it happened is probably long dead, and any of the undead likely long gone.

It’s just a little darkness. 

Steeling your nerves you creep through the black, clutching tightly at your bat, toeing your way down the corridor waiting for your eyes to adjust to the dim. Every breath you draw in feels too loud, every step too obnoxious. Deserted or not, the sooner you can find the med-bay, get what you need for Oikawa and get out, the better.

The layout’s simple enough – five looming multi-storied wings breaking off like fingers from the central watch-tower, but you don’t have a clue which one holds what you’re seeking. Your only option is to search them one by one and hope for the best. 

You’d expected steel bars and heavy locks, but the prison reminds you strangely of a school instead; long hallways lined with doors, each with a tiny window to peek through. They’re all open now of course, whatever locking mechanism keeping them shut having failed when the generators ran out. The first few are empty, barren and stripped of everything but soiled mattresses – it should be a relief. 

There’s nothing waiting for you in the darkness but empty halls and emptier rooms. If the others were here, they’d be teasing you for sure. Or Makki and Mattsun would, at least. You always were such a scared little baby – their scared little baby – you’d jump at your own shadow if you didn’t have them around. 

And it’s easier to keep going imagining them there by your side, the jokes they’d crack, the warmth of Iwa’s hand in yours, or Makki’s arm slung over your shoulder. You’d feel safe with them. You wouldn’t need to feel afraid.

But no amount of pretend comfort is enough to allay the heavy sense of dread that’s sitting in your stomach, growing harder and harder to ignore with every passing minute. And the problem, you realise, with the prison being so deadly quiet is that every noise, no matter how quiet, echoes.

Climbing the stairs in the dark, you don’t notice the slickness on the walls either side of you, the red handprints smeared messily over white paint. You don’t see the broken, bloody fingernails littering the steps beneath you. 

You hear it though, when you reach the landing. It’s soft. A quiet, wet squelching, ripping–

There’s no screams accompanying it like there were back when the sanctuary was overrun, but it’s not a sound you’re gonna be able to forget any time soon. In the dark you freeze, not daring to so much as breathe as you peer down the endless corridor, trying to pinpoint which of the cells it’s coming from. 

In the end, you decide that it doesn’t matter. 

They’re quicker when they’ve fed, stronger too, and there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to be able to fumble past in the dark without drawing that thing’s attention. The wooden bat in your hands feels heavy, your palms already slick with sweat. You weren’t quick enough back at the sanctuary; without Tooru, that thing would’ve eaten you. And suddenly it seems laughable that you came out here, that you genuinely thought you could handle this – fight one of them off if it came down to it.

Tooru needs those meds, you know that, and you might be useless and weak and absolutely paralysed with fear, but you’re not stupid. You can’t help him at all if you’re torn apart by one of those creatures.

Your pulse racing, a potent mix of adrenaline and sheer, unrelenting terror coursing through your veins, you draw in a quiet breath, slowly lifting your foot to back away. It hasn’t heard you yet, and so long as it’s distracted–

“Oi, hurry up! I know what I saw, she came in this way.”

“Jesus, just shut up for a sec, wouldja! Ya don’t need to keep yellin’ at me, I’m comin’!”

Through the grate at your feet, you see two beams of light break through the darkness, the sound of loud, heavy footsteps echoing down the wing. Icy claws tighten like a vice around your heart and you still once more, squeezing your eyes shut as you listen, praying…

The squelching’s stopped.

Grip tight around the handle of your bat, your entire body quaking with fear, you watch with wide, stricken eyes as one of the doors halfway down the block slowly creaks outwards. 

For a heartbeat, there’s nothing, and you try and convince yourself it’s just the wind, that you’re imagining things and your mind is playing mean tricks on you–

A feral snarl rips through the air, and before you can so much as scream it’s crashing through the open doorway, head swivelling as it searches for the source of the disturbance. In the dark you can’t make out much, only that it’s huge, half its flesh torn and decaying, smeared with blood and filth – but you see it when those white, cloudy eyes fix on you, its rotting mouth bared and salivating.

And this time you do scream. You scream for Oikawa, for Iwa, for Makki and Mattsun and the faceless strangers on the floor below as you cast your bat aside and run. You don’t dare look over your shoulder as you take the stairs two, three at a time, slipping and slamming into the stairwell wall, a sharp burst of pain radiating down your shoulder – you can hear it giving chase, the rabid growls and snarls too close for comfort.

Tears flood your eyes, your chest heaving with every desperate breath as your feet hit solid ground once more and you take off.

“Please!” you sob as you run, blinded by the brightness of the torch beam as it’s shone in your direction. “PLEASE HELP ME!”

You can’t outrun it forever. Even now, you hear it gaining on you, its hot, foul breath puffing against your back – it’s just like back at the sanctuary. It’s gonna catch you, rip into you and feast while you choke to death on your own blood and screams, and this time you won’t have Oikawa here to save you. You’re going to die in agony, torn apart and devoured, and it’s all your own stupid fault.

Your throat tightens, more tears springing free. You can’t see anything beyond those two blinding lights, moving now, dancing across the field of your vision. “PLEASE!” you shriek, desperate and hoarse as the undead creature behind you readies itself to pounce.

Please don’t leave me here to die.

And for one heart wrenching second, you think back to your boys, and the words they’d said before kissing you goodbye. Everybody else first. Maybe this is some kind of divine retribution, you think. Maybe when the world went to hell people became cold and selfish and you deserve this for sitting back and letting others die in your place.

“Get down!” the voice yells, and you don’t even stop to think before you drop, sliding across the floor. There’s another blinding flash, a shot fired into the dark and all you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hug your knees to your chest as the creature snarls in anger and jerks backwards, a gruesome spurt of blood spraying over you.

“Ya fucking missed! How could ya fucking miss?!”

The gun cocks and reloads, another deafening shot ringing out above you and you flinch, your nails biting into the soft skin of your palm–

But this time the bullet hits its mark. The creature crashes to the floor with a loud thump and doesn’t move again. 

You don’t waste a second scrambling to your feet, launching yourself into the arms of your saviour. You don’t care that you’re crying, that you’re covered in blood and filth and god knows what else, you cling to him like he’s a lifeline, sobbing into his shoulder. And instead of pushing you away like he probably should, he lets out a short huff that sounds almost like a laugh, his arm curling around your waist.

“I’m the one who shot the damn thing,” the other mutters sourly.

The man holding you snorts, “Nah, yer the idiot who missed.” Belatedly, you realise that he’s still gripping his gun, the brightness you’d assumed to have come from a torch actually from a light mounted to the barrel. He slings the rifle carelessly over his shoulder, drawing back slightly to appraise you. “Now, wanna tell me what a sweet thing like you’s doin’ all alone in a place like this?”

With your eyes now adjusting to the light, you can see that the two of them can’t be much older than you. They’re both tall, broad shouldered and handsome, the same jawline, the same slope to their nose, nearly identical hooded eyes – brothers you decide, maybe even twins. And they’re both smirking at you, not with the relief of just barely escaping a brush with a particularly gruesome death, but with an odd sort of lackadaisical amusement, as if this – skulking through dark, abandoned places, killing the undead – is nothing out of the ordinary for them. 

And from the ease with which they carry their weapons, maybe it isn’t.

Oikawa warned you about men like them. Men in general, really. Even the ones who smiled at you back at the sanctuary, the ones who offered to help you move heavy supplies when they saw you struggling – at least, until Iwa or one of the others stepped in with a poisonous glare. Anyone who wasn’t them was dangerous, a threat, just waiting in the wings to take advantage of a pretty, dumb little thing like you.

And maybe he’s right, but when the one holding you instead drags you closer, wraps an arm around your shoulders and begins to lead you back towards the guard tower as his brother falls into step on your other side, you don’t shrug him off. 

Oikawa isn’t here, and they have just saved your life. That has to count for something, right?

“I-I thought it’d be safe,” you confess breathlessly, trying not to focus on the thumb sweeping over the curve of your shoulder. “Well, empty at least. I didn’t have a choice.” And they listen, sharing glances in the dark as you tell them about what’d happened at the sanctuary, about Oikawa and the desperation that’d led you to leave him and walk miles alone to try and find some kind of medicine–

Until a snicker interrupts you. “Sorry,” the blonde mutters, though he doesn’t look all that sincere when your eyes flash to his. “It’s just…”

“Anythin’ worth taking woulda been snatched up months ago,” the darker haired one interjects.

“There ain’t nothin’ here but the occasional idiot tryna set up camp an’… Well, ya saw how well that turned out.”

It hits you like a gut punch, forcing the air from your lungs in a harsh, gasping breath. There was never anything here, everything… all of it was a waste. You came all this way, left him feverish and screaming himself hoarse for you, risked your life, almost died and–

It was all for nothing.

Fresh tears sting at your eyes, they’re still talking but it’s just white noise washing over you. You don’t even realise they’re leading you back outside until you’re walking through the doors, the sudden burst of sunlight making you flinch. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters anymore.

You’re an idiot.

A naive, dumb little girl who was stupid enough to think this half cocked plan was gonna work. That you would make it back to Tooru in one piece, medicine in hand to save the day and prove you weren’t the helpless damsel they’d pegged you for. 

You’ve wasted so much time, for nothing. 

There’s no drugs, no food, nothing that’s gonna help either one of you make it through the next few days and suddenly you’re drowning under a wave of hopelessness and bitter disappointment. You fall to your knees in the dirt, taking both your saviours by surprise, and let out a painful, heart wrenching sob. And once you start, you can’t seem to stop. It’s overwhelming, every emotion you’ve bottled up and shoved aside over the last two days suddenly forced into the light. You cry for yourself, for Tooru – for Iwa and Makki and Mattsun. You cry until it feels like you can’t breathe anymore, and then there’s rough calloused fingers brushing your tears away.

You look up through wet lashes to find the dark-haired man crouching before you, his expression sober. “Ya don’t need to cry, sweetheart, we’re not monsters y’know.”

His brother chuckles behind you, “We’re not about to leave some pretty little thing all alone out here to starve to death.” His hand’s resting atop your head now, smoothing down the hair at your crown. It’s soft and soothing, and you’re so attuned to seeking comfort that you can’t help but lean into it, eyes momentarily fluttering shut. “We’ve got some friends nearby, a nice little hideaway stocked full of all kinds of shit. Everything ya could possibly need.”

“Y-you mean it?” you ask, wide eyes flickering to the dark haired one, who smiles at last. “You’ll share them with me?”

“‘Course we do. Meds, food, weapons. Whatever ya want, it’s yours.”

You take the hand he offers to help you stand, your limbs trembling once more – but this time it’s not from fear or exhaustion, but the overwhelming rush of sheer relief. You could kiss him, kiss them both, but you don’t.

Instead you settle for throwing your arms around them once more, breathless thanks falling from your lips faster than they can catch as you hug them tight. They don’t seem to mind though, sharing almost identical smirks as the three of you head out to an old, beat up camaro parked out by the entrance to the prison. While the blonde slides in the driver’s seat and his brother takes the passenger’s side, you climb up into the back seat. 

“Is it far?” you ask as he kicks the car into gear and peels out onto the deserted road. Hopefully it’s not, the sooner you can get back to help Tooru the better. 

“Nah, not too far. We’ll be home before ya know it.”

Of course, they’re driving you to their friends, but they haven’t promised anything about driving you back to the cottage and Oikawa–

Which is perfectly fine! You’re not going to push your luck, they’re already doing plenty for you. More than they really have to. You don’t even need that much – just some medicine for Tooru and enough food for the two of you to get through the next few days, and you’ll be fine. Whatever you can carry, which, admittedly isn’t much. There’s still a few hours of daylight left, if you’re lucky you’ll be able to make it back to him before nightfall.

Things are gonna be fine. You’ll bring the medicine and once he’s better, the two you can head out to find the others. Everything’s gonna be okay. You’ll be better when you’re all back together, the way things were meant to be. 

You need them, if anything this little venture’s proven that much at least. 

They’d promised that it wasn’t far, and maybe it’s just the exhaustion of the last few days creeping in, or the gentle hum of the engine as the car drives along the long, narrow stretch of road, but your eyelids start to droop, your breath evening out as sleep beckons.

And you’re just dancing on the edge of consciousness when a hushed voice breaks through the comfortable silence, dark eyes flickering up to watch your slumbering form in the rearview mirror. “Ya think Kita’ll be pissed?”

There’s a snort, “Nah. He’s always had a soft spot for strays, ‘specially the pretty ones.” He’s quiet for a moment, almost contemplative before he opens his mouth to add, “‘Sides, we’re gonna take real good care of her, ain’t we, Samu?”

The only reply he gives is a soft grunt of acknowledgement. 

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

howard stern

I'M BACK BESTIES!!!!! i'm not totally back to my normal writing, but I finally got through a whole piece! anyways I really liked this and i hope you do too :)

warnings: howard stern being a bitch, talk of weight & body image

word count: 2.1k

"Hello Harry, how are you doing today?"

"I'm well, thank you," Harry answered with a smile. He was on the Howard Stern Show, his first interview since Stevie had been born. He hadn't really wanted to; Howard was kind of a prick. Everyone knew this, but Jeff was convinced this was the right move. He said it would be good for Harry to get back into the swing of things, and no one else was available on short notice. In the end, Harry only agreed because you had pushed him to, reminding him it wouldn't be a very long interview and then he wouldn't have to interact with the abrasive man again for a long time.

"That's good to hear," Howard said. "How have you been these past couple months? Have you been getting anything done?"

"Not much that's music related, honestly," Harry laughed. "I've been busy with family things."

"Yeah, you've kind of been hiding away from the world for a while here, what's that about?"

"Well, as I'm sure you already know, my wonderful wife had a baby recently, so I've been pretty busy... just navigating the world of fatherhood." A smile crept onto his face at the mention of Stevie.

"That's a lot, isn't it? Babies are awful at that age," Howard chuckled.

"Uh- I wouldn't say awful," Harry's smile dropped a little and he sighed internally. He already knew how the rest of this interview would go: thinly veiled insults, questions that were way too personal, and having to pretend he didn't want to get up and walk out of the room. But he knew that wouldn't be a very good look for him, so he gritted his teeth and tried to think of happy things. Specifically, the fact that he would get to go home to his wife and baby in less than two hours. "She's a very sweet baby, we're completely in love with her."

"Yeah, sometimes they're cute, but mostly they just cry and wake you up in the night, don't they?" Howard asked smugly, as if he knew Harry's baby better than Harry did.

"Well, of course she wakes up in the night sometimes. She's hungry, can't blame her for wanting food, can I?" Harry asked, trying to speak lightly and with a smile, but he could feel his patience slipping. He was ready to go home and he was not in the mood to pretend to be happy when this man was clearly insulting his child.

"Sure, I just wish babies could be a bit less annoying when they want something."

Harry nodded, plastering a smile that hopefully looked real on his face.

"So, besides the annoying baby, how's the family? Everybody healthy over there?"

Harry nodded. "Everybody's happy and healthy. A little sleep deprived, of course, but we're managing well, i think. And by we, I mean Y/N. She's truly... just amazing. I have no idea how she does it- she's the one keeping everything together. There's no way I could do any of this without her."

"Yeah, she seems pretty great! I remember though, at first we were all a little uncertain about her. She's not exactly like the other women you have a history with, is she?"

"She's-" Harry started talking, but Howard cut him off.

"I just mean, we were used to seeing you with models and actresses and the like, so it was a bit of a shock to see you with one of us commoners, you know?"

Harry huffed a small laugh, still trying to sound polite. "When you love someone, that's all that matters."

"Right, of course, but don't you get bored sometimes? You stopped going out so much when you got with her, almost like she was keeping you captive or something," He laughed.

"Are you asking me if my wife forced me to stop hanging out with my friends?" Harry squinted at the man.

"No, of course not, but..." He leaned closer with a malicious gleam in his eye, like he was about to hear some big secret. "Did she?"

"No," Harry said firmly. "She did not."

"Okay, okay, if you say so," Howard put his hands up, but then he leaned in again and spoke in an exaggerated whisper. "Blink twice if you need help."

Harry played it off with a laugh, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He's good," Howard laughed loudly. "Anyways, let's move on. Since you two are supposedly so happy-" He paused again, as if he expected Harry to cut it and give some dramatic confession about how terrible his relationship was behind closed doors. Harry only raised his eyebrows, signaling him to continue talking. "Tell us about that. When did you two get married again?"

"Almost 2 years ago," Harry said with a smile. "Our anniversary is coming up, actually, it's in 3 weeks."

"Oh wow, you guys moved fast with the whole kid thing, huh?"

Harry nodded. "We both knew we wanted kids and were ready to have them, so... yeah."

"Yeah, no point wasting time, right? How was Y/N after having the baby- Stevie, right?"

"Yeah, her name is Stevie," Harry smiled. "She was good. Again, she's amazing for going through that. She's- i'm just so lucky to have her."

"Did she bounce back right away?"

"I'm sorry?" Harry's brow furrowed.

"You know, did she get her figure back fast? I know that's a big issue for some women," He laughed again.

"Are you-" All traces of Harry's smile were gone now.

"I just mean, I hope she's working to get rid of the baby weight," Howard said casually, as if his words weren't extremely rude. "Just to make sure she can fit into her old clothes!"

Harry cleared his throat. He knew he had to speak very carefully, since this was something you had been very self conscious about. "Well, the two of us are concerned with the new life she brought into the world, not some old clothes, but she looks as beautiful as ever. The amount of pressure women face to live up to certain standards is disgusting to me, and it's especially bad for new mothers. My wife just went through an incredible process, she grew an entire human being in 9 months, then went through labor and the delivery, and she's being told to worry about her figure? That's wrong."

"Right, right, of course," Howard smiled, but Harry could tell he was annoyed at how he couldn't be tricked into speaking badly about his wife.

"I'm really over the whole thing, honestly," Harry said. "And I'm not even the one going through it."

Howard laughed nervously, seeming to finally take the hint that Harry was uncomfortable and annoyed with the topic. "Let's talk about your latest movie, why don't we?"

Harry was closed off through the rest of the interview; anyone could see that. He laughed less, his arms stayed crossed, and his answers were short. He was professional, but it went no farther than that. There was no more playful joking or easy conversation, just Harry trying to get through the interview as fast as he could. When it finally came to a close after his final song, Harry couldn't pack up fast enough. He made sure to say a polite thanks and goodbye before he hurried out to his car.

He sighed deeply before picking up his phone to call you.

"Hi baby!" your happy voice came from the other end. That was good, he assumed that meant you hadn't listened to the interview yet.

"Hi love," he smiled, his mood already improving just from hearing your voice. "Did you listen to the interview?"

"I have been- I couldn't right at the beginning, Stevie was crying, but I caught the end. Why?"

"Why was she crying?" Harry ignored your question, instantly worrying about his baby.

"Sometimes babies cry for no reason, Harry. She's okay, I promise. Anyways, what's up with the interview?"

Harry sighed. "Just the normal for a Howard Stern interview- he asked some very personal and rude questions. Just prepare for that."

"What else is new?" You laughed. "Are you coming right home?"

"Yeah, unless you need anything?"

"Nope, I think I'm good. See you soon!"

"Love you, bye," Harry said, ending the call and starting the car to begin the drive home.

-----

"I'm home," Harry called, removing his coat as he walked in the door.

"We're in here," you responded, not moving from your spot on the couch where you were nursing Stevie.

Harry walked in, a small smile on his face as he looked at the two of you.

"Hi," He sighed, plopping down on the couch next to you.

"That bad, huh?" You asked, taking in his dejected tone.

He hummed in response, leaning his head on your shoulder. "Those interviews are... always something."

"Yeah, I only caught the end, but you sounded pretty upset. What did he say?"

"He just..." Harry shook his head. "I don't think you should listen to it."

You turned your head to look at him. "Why not?"

"He's just very rude and pushy, as always."

"Yeah, i figured, but I wanted to hear your songs," you argued with a small frown. "Did he say something really bad, or...?"

"He just makes some very impolite comments about you and our family."

"Oh," You nodded lightly. "I think I'll be okay, baby. I appreciate you trying to protect my feelings, but I'm used to it at this point, and I really couldn't care less about his opinion of me."

"Alright," he sighed. "If you're sure." He pulled out his phone, checking his email and going through some messages while you started the interview from the beginning. You could hear him grumbling under his breath and huffing every time Howard said something rude, but you ignored it, just laying a hand on his leg to calm him down.

By the time it was over, Harry was clearly not too happy. "I can't believe I went back on that show," he shook his head. "I'm never doing that again. I'm so sorry about what he said about you, I honestly should have just left-"

"It's okay," you cut him off with a smile. "Also, it was kind of hot to hear you get mad at him."

"Yeah?" He smiled back. "I thought I was very tame, actually. I wanted to say some other things, but I figured that wouldn't be a very good look for me."

"Right, but the way you attacked him but stayed professional... very hot," you laughed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "I love you so much."

"I love you too," He smiled, turning his head to kiss your cheek in return. "Is she done? I really need to hold her after the day I've had," He sighed dramatically, throwing his head back.

"I'm sure," you laughed, handing Stevie over to him and pulling your shirt back into place. "She's all yours."

"Hi baby," he cooed, holding her close to his chest. "I missed you so much."

Stevie yawned in response, cuddling into him.

"Oh, you missed me too?" He grinned. "See that? She missed me."

"She did," You agreed. "She was looking around when she heard your voice on the interview, she wanted to know where you were."

"I'm sorry," he pouted down at her. "I'll never go away again, and I'll never let the bad man be mean to you again."

"I don't think she's too upset about it, Harry," you laughed. "She is only 3 months old. She didn't exactly understand anything that went on."

"Excuse me," he said, looking very offended. "She may only be 3 months old, but she's very smart."

"Right, she's a genius baby, how could I forget?"

"I don't know," Harry shook his head at Stevie. "How could she forget how smart you are, hmm?"

Stevie yawned again, stretching her arms above her head.

"She's ready to take a nap," you said.

"Can I just hold her? I know it's not a good habit, to let her be held to sleep, but I don't want to put her down yet," Harry said, looking up with such pleading eyes, you couldn't possibly say no. Not like you would have said no anyways, but he didn't need to know that.

"Of course you can," you stood up, kissing his forehead before you turned away. "I'm gonna do the dishes, then we can watch something if you want."

"No, let me do those," he immediately protested.

"Harry, it's okay, I haven't done anything around the house since she was born-"

"And I'm not about to let you start now," he cut you off. "Come back here, please? Let's start that new show we were looking at the other night."

"Fine, but later I'm going to help you with the dishes."

"Fine," he smiled, agreeing with your compromise, even though you both knew he would argue later. "Now come back here."

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Evermore

Simon Basset x Reader

Words: 2319

Summary: While residing in the same house, Simon and his wife could not be further apart. His resistance to love may cost him the only thing he holds dear while he can merely stand and watch it fade. 

Notes: I love Simon waaaaaaay too much. I have been dying to write for him, so please please let me know what you think! 

More period dramas: HERE

-

I never needed anybody in my life

I learned the truth too late

From this spot, he had a view of the entire garden. He watched as you strolled between the flowers, pausing occasionally to smell a particular bloom. You used to walk together, but now, he could hardly bear to even look at the gardens. Seeing you there sent a feeling through his heart that he could not rid himself of. It was better this way. The happiness that you had felt in your first few months of marriage was an illusion. Simon knew that he could never truly make you happy, no matter how badly he wanted to. Still, these days of silence ate at his soul. 

You felt his gaze upon you before you spotted him in a second-story window. Looking up from the rose in your hand, you held his stare with your own, as if daring him to come out from behind his closed doors. This was the first time you’d seen your husband in two days and even when you had seen each other, it was in passing, shrouded in bitter quiet. 

You looked away first, dropping your flower and storming back into the house with renewed frustration. From the corner of your eye, you could see him vanish from the window, probably to disappear into his office for yet another day of avoidance. Through your anger, your heart ached. He never explained his sudden hatred towards you. One night, he simply stopped speaking to you. When you confronted him, he’d shouted and shut himself away in his room. No word between you had been uttered since. 

To fill your lonely hours, you walked the length of the house. Clyvedon was a beautiful estate and offered at least some distraction from your empty heart. This time, however, your usual path was interrupted. 

“Your grace,” You greeted coolly. It was odd to see him in this part of the house, so far away from his usual fortress. He rarely left his office anymore. “I must say, I am surprised to see you away from your desk. You have been married to your work recently.” You put as much venom into your words as you could muster. For a moment, you thought you saw him flinch. 

“Y/N, I understand you are uncomfortable with our current situation-”

“Uncomfortable?” You exclaimed furiously. “You think that I am uncomfortable? This is not an ill fitting dress or-or a pebble in my shoe. I saw you in that window and I couldn’t breathe. Even now, it feels like my heart is trying to leap out of my chest and give itself to you, for maybe that will finally be enough for you.” His eyes shifted to the window, desperately trying to escape your hateful stare. 

“You are more than enough for me-”

“Then tell me, your Grace,” You spat, “why you can’t even bring yourself to look at me!” You had raised your voice beyond what was proper, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to see the anguish that this forced solitude was bringing you. “Explain to me how we can be making love one morning and by that afternoon, you can hardly utter a word to me. Look at me, Simon! For God’s sake just look at me.” 

Whatever his reasoning for coming to you was lost to him now. He could only hear the anger and frustration in your voice. The hatred you must hold for him. While his eyes finally found yours, it felt as though he was looking past you. 

“I presume you will be eating in your quarters again.” Was all he said. The return of his indifference was the final straw for you. Having had enough, you charged off to find the furthest place in the house away from him. Simon watched you go in quiet agony, cursing himself for being unable to shut out his affection for you. He told himself again that this was how it must be. If only that was enough. 

-

Wasting in my lonely tower

Waiting by an open door

He wasn’t sure how late it was, but his eyes were starting to burn from staring at documents all night. He could hardly keep them open. Setting his work aside, he ran a hand down his face, trying to rub the exhaustion from his eyes, and slowly dimmed his lamp until the light was gone. When he looked up, he found you standing in the doorway, shrouded in shadow. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you looked like a spirit in your white nightgown and tear stained face. 

“Why are you not in bed?” He questioned, only half awake himself. 

“I came to…” The words caught in your throat, making them sound garbled and broken. You stepped into the moonlight and composed yourself. “I came to say goodbye.” Simon froze. 

“What?”

“I have arranged for a carriage to take me back to London at dawn.” You stared blankly at him, your face sunken and despaired. He hadn’t realized the depths of the misery he had caused you until now. “My presence is clearly unwanted and I feel that we may live our lives more peacefully apart.” 

“I see you’ve already made up your mind on the matter.” Simon scoffed, the pain your words inflicted fueling anger. You didn’t reply. Instead, you turned and started back down the dark hallway to your quarters. He caught your arm before you got too far. “You cannot just leave.” 

“I see no reason to stay, your grace.” 

“You are my wife.” He growled. Finally, your sullen exterior broke away to reveal the anger burning inside of your chest, threatening to swallow you. 

“Am I?” You jerked your arm away, stumbling backwards in the dark. “Because these past few days I’ve felt like a stranger, wandering these beautiful halls, looking for something in them to keep me here. There is nothing but emptiness and grief and pain and I cannot-” 

He placed a hand on your cheek, your words halting on your tongue. You stepped closer into his touch, a touch that you had been aching to feel for days. Simon dipped his head down, bringing your lips slowly to his own. 

His movements were fast and urgent, his lips moving against yours like he depended on you for breath. You felt the familiar feeling rush over you. It was the intense feeling you’d felt so many times at the beginning of your marriage, one you had feared you’d never feel again. But it wasn’t enough. 

“Simon, wait.” You pushed back, trying to find anything in his eyes that could explain to you why he’d been acting so distant. “Talk to me, my love.” 

He tried. He wanted so desperately to be able to share with you his fears, but every time he opened his mouth he felt like that stuttering little boy again. Your gaze pleaded with him. 

“Please, say something.” Still no response. You pulled out of his grasp forcefully, that feeling fleeing just as quickly as it had come. “Tomorrow, I am leaving for London. At least there I will not be reminded how little I must mean to you.” 

You gave him no chance to reply, vanishing into the dark night while he furiously went back into his office, knocking almost every paper off his desk. Simon craved to follow you back to your quarters and show you what you really meant to him, but his feelings didn’t matter. You were miserable and it was his doing. 

Still, the idea of being away from you, the feeling of abandonment sunk into him like sharp claws. It was dark and grim and kept him awake, pacing back and forth in the confines of his office. That night, he did not get a moment’s rest. 

-

I let her steal into my melancholy heart

It’s more than I can bear

Days passed, each one quieter and darker than the last. You were gone. He had watched your carriage leave from his window, solemn and alone. Each day he waited. He waited to hear the rattling of the carriage, the pounding of the horse’s hooves. He left the door to his office open as if he expected you to walk in like nothing had happened. In fact, he hardly left his office at all in hopes that his waiting would conjure you somehow. 

It was the fifth day of your absences when he received the letter. Lady Danbury started by inquiring as to why his wife was in London unaccompanied, but it was the end of the letter that sent an icy fear through his blood. You had fallen ill and had doctors in and out of the house for the last two days. While she did not know the severity of your illness she had heard that you had been bed ridden and unable to take any visitors. She feared the worst. 

Simon didn’t waste a second readying his horse and taking off towards the city. It didn’t matter how many hours the ride took, he went on without stopping. His horse sped through the city, having little care for the foot traffic around him. Hastings house stretched ominously over him, adding to the dread filling his chest. He didn’t wait for a servant to open the door, he didn’t wait to be shown to your room. He ran through the halls like a mad man only to find your quarters empty. 

“Your Grace?” Your lady's maid gasped, nearly dropping the bundle of fabrics she was carrying. “I-I thought you were staying in-”

“Where is she?” He barked, making her jump. He didn’t mean to frighten the poor girl, but he did not have the patients for explanation. 

“S-she’s having tea with Lady Danbury in the drawing room.” The girl squeaked. His confusion was quickly replaced by rage and he stormed into the drawing room, Lady’s Danbury’s letter crumpled in his fist. Your eyes widened at the sight of your husband, sweating and disheveled. 

“Simon, what are you-”

“Your Grace, how wonderful for you to join us.” Lady Danbury smiled triumphantly. 

“Is this meant to be some kind of cruel joke to you?” He snapped viciously. You’d never seen him this way before and, frankly, it frightened you. Lady Danbury didn’t seem phased. “My life is not a game for you to meddle in!” 

“Someone had to show you how much you stand to lose, your Grace.” She said, keeping incredibly calm under the circumstances. 

“How dare you.” Simon was seething. “You wretched woman-”

“Simon!” You exclaimed, jumping up from your seat. “A word, your Grace.” You opened the door to the garden and waited outside for him to join you. 

“I think it’s time for you to leave.” Simon glared. Lady Danbury stood and walked past him with enviable elegance. 

“Don’t lose her, your Grace. Not when she’s finally made you believe in love.” She left without further comment. 

Simon finally walked out and you resisted the urge to slap him. Your fists were balled at your sides and you were walking furiously back and forth on the path. 

“How dare you come here and speak to my guest in such a manner.” You wanted to scream and cry and kiss him all at once. “What on earth are you doing here, anyway?” 

“Lady Danbury sent me a lie in order to get me to come here.” He finally let the exhaustion of his ride rush over him and he leaned against the wall. 

“And what lie could have been so great to get you to leave your office?” You scoffed. Simon’s face softened. 

“She said that you were ill.” He said quietly, his voice betraying the truth. For those few hours before he arrived were the most terrifying he’d ever experienced. “I thought that… I was afraid I would lose you.” 

“You haven’t seemed that concerned these past weeks.” You muttered in irritation. Simon’s face fell. 

“Do you really believe that?” He asked with such pain in his voice it nearly broke your heart. “That I am not concerned for your well being? That I do not care if you are hurt or-or sick?” 

“What else am I to believe, Simon?” You said, exasperated and exhausted with his constantly shifting moods towards you. “You avoid me at all costs when I am with you, you have suspended any affection towards me, and now you tell me that you came all this way because you thought I was ill? I don’t understand you, your grace, I truly don’t.” 

“Everything I have done has been for your benefit.” He stepped towards you. “My affection towards you runs deeper than I could possibly explain and that is why I cannot condemn you to a life cast into my darkness.” His eyes did not look through you now. Rather, they pierced down to your very soul. You stood in shock, trying to find the right words to convey your true feelings. 

“Simon…” You gasped, laying a hand on his chest to feel his racing heartbeat. “You are not a shadow. You are the moon. Yes, you have darkness. Yes there are parts of you that I do not yet understand, but that does not mean I do not wish to know you. You are the guiding light in my darkest nights. You are my husband and I love you.” 

You wrapped your arms around him and brought his lips to yours. It was like your first kiss, hesitant at first, but soon evolved with passion and need. Simon cupped your face in his hands and vowed. 

“I will not hide my love from you again. I will cherish you the way you are meant to be. And I will remind you how dear you are to me every moment I can.” He brushed a joyous tear from your cheek. “For evermore.” 

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[helpistolethesecharacters]

I'll Be Your Romeo If You'll Be My Juliet

Lucius Malfoy x Male Reader

Word Count: 1911

This was a request from an anon for a Lucius x male reader.

I hope this is everything you wanted from your request anon, if it isn't, feel free to send me another request!

---------

It was time for the annual Yule gathering. The Black family had the honor of hosting it this year, and they had taken every opportunity to remind everyone of that fact.

The heirs, the ones that mattered anyway, had been almost insufferable on the lead up to the yule break.

Lucius had mixed feelings on the whole subject, not that he could let that show to anyone.

Luckily, it looked like his betrothed was of a similar mind. The lovely Andromeda Black had been as quiet as he had been lately. If they had had even the smallest bit of interest in each other, they might have brought their concerns up.

Lucius thought fleetingly of a world where they could be in love. They would spirit themselves away to an abandoned classroom where they could talk uninterrupted about all of the things that were bothering them. They would take comfort in not being alone. It would bring them closer together and they could fall in love all over again.

But reality was a cruel mistress, and rarely allowed for such flights of fancy.

As it was, Lucius and Andromeda were just two teens who had been promised to each other from before they had even been born. There was nothing more between them.

Lucius sighed silently as he exited the floo into the receiving room at the Black Manor.

He barely registered an elf banishing the soot from his dress robes as he moved out of the room.

"Heir Malfoy, a pleasure to have you in our humble home this evening. And of course you as well Lord and Lady Malfoy!"

Lucius nodded at the welcome and stood obediently by his parents' side as he waited for the greetings to end. Sometimes he tired of all the stiff pureblood airs and graces.

After the obligatory back handed compliments they moved off into the party proper. With a last terse command to not embarrass the family name, courtesy of his father, Lucius moved away to see if he could find someone a little closer to his age.

He absently took a glass of sparkling cider from one of the floating trays that dotted the ballroom. The Blacks really had outdone themselves this year. The room was done in shades of white, sliver and blue. It really was stunning, but nothing seemed to be able to knock Lucius out of the numbness he had slipped into.

It had started at the start of that school year with the arrival of a transfer student. The other boy was their age, and the most enchanting creature that Lucius had ever laid eyes on. He had watched his sorting with longing, but the dratted hat had put Y/n into Ravenclaw. It wasn't really the end of the world, Lucius shuddered to think if he had been put into Gryffindor, or worse, Hufflepuff. Unfortunately, Lucius was already betrothed, but even if he wasn't, Abraxas Malfoy would never allow him to sully the Malfoy name with a male partner.

So Lucius had had to swallow his feelings as best he could. It hadn't worked very well, so he had allowed himself to pine from afar just a little.

He was jolted out of his daydream by the object of his thoughts. Lucius inhaled his mouthful of cider at the sight of Y/n.

He looked amazing in his dress robes, dressed up all fancy for the ball. Lucius thought to himself that if this was the cause of his death it would be worth it.

He was aware, once he managed to stop choking, of three things. One, everyone was looking at him, two, his face was probably red enough to shame a Weasley's hair, and lastly, that Y/n had the brightest e/c eyes possible.

He was struck with the awful thought that this was probably the first time that Y/n had known that Lucius existed.

'Well, that was a fantastic first impression,' Lucius thought to himself. He pointedly looked everyone who would meet his gaze straight in the eyes. As he had thought, it was enough to discomfort them into looking away.

Lucius raised his chin and moved off into a different area of the ballroom.

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

Ever since Y/n had realised that Lucius Malfoy was at the party as well, he had been jittery. The other boy was always looking at him. He had been the cause of enough distraction before this, when he was just someone who lurked at the fringes of his awareness while he studied in the school library. Now, Y/n was sure that he would never be getting rid of the image of Lucius in dress robes. How was he ever going to be able to concentrate again?

He shook himself slightly and tried to focus back in on whatever it was that the Greengrass heiress was talking about. He was supposed to be making connections here, maybe paving the way for a betrothal contract. As the first Pendragon to be seen in this and the previous generation, there was a lot of pressure to make the right political connections. A marriage to someone who was already politically powerful in this community would go a long way toward putting them back on the map in this magical community.

It was the Gods eternal joke that he was the only one that could do this. He only had one other relative, and his uncle wasn't exactly all there anymore. His parents had made it clear that this was their only chance to become the powerful family that they had once been.

Sure, potions had made it possible to have a male pregnancy, but it was still looked down on pretty harshly by most purebloods. Y/n had no idea how he was supposed to get his family back to its former glory, when to do it he would have to marry a girl. Why did he have to be gay?

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

Lucius was slowly going out of his mind. He had moved around the party doing his best to ignore Y/n, but he couldn't get him out of his head. The other boy was still standing where he had first spotted him, entirely surrounded by everyone their age.

What was worse was that these were people Lucius had grown up with. He had known these people for his whole life, and it was this that allowed him to see what was happening.

They were all flirting with Y/n.

Lucius was almost certain that some of them, most notably his friends, were only doing it to irritate him and not because they were genuinely interested in Y/n.

He had been shooting furtive looks over at the group for the last half an hour, and still they kept it up. Lucius just didn't know what to do. Oh sure, he knew what he wanted to do, but he also knew that there was no way he could actually pull it off.

For one thing, if he showed his hand by going over there and making a fool of himself he would face serious consequences when he got home. He was sure he would already be in trouble for his incident earlier that night, but if his father heard even a hint of a whisper that his only heir was gay, well, Lucius wasn't sure he would survive that particular punishment.

He was pulled up short at the realisation of where he was. He was in a room with some of the biggest gossips in the magical world, all of which could just about smell weakness. He shot his eyes around the room and realised with a start that it was already too late.

He recognised the look in his fathers eyes when he met them. Someone must have said something about his preoccupation with his classmate to Abraxas. Lucius swallowed, noting his suddenly dry throat.

He looked away from his father, toward Y/n and his friends. There might be a way to salvage this, pretend to have been watching another of his friends. He would still be in trouble for lusting after someone who was not his betrothed, but much less than if it had been the very male Y/n.

There was a commotion over by one of the doors, but Lucius was too busy thinking. He was realising that he was done. He couldn't live like this anymore, and he was done pretending that he could.

He squared his shoulders and moved over to his friends.

"Excuse me, may I borrow Y/n for a moment. We won't be long."

He didn't even bother waiting for a response, just grabbed a hold of him and started off in a random direction. The only thing in his mind was getting as far away from other people so he could have this discussion in peace.

He pulled Y/n out of the ballroom and down hallway after hallway until he decided they were lost enough that only a house elf would be able to find them.

He turned back to the other boy after making sure that the area was empty. They were both panting a little after their impromptu jog.

Y/n was looking at Lucius cautiously.

Lucius surged forward and connected their lips.

They were gasping for breath again when he pulled back.

"You know we can't do this."

Lucius cut him off before he could continue.

"I'm done. I'm done being the perfect heir for parents that don't care to know the real me. I'm done pretending that I'm not head over heels for you. Most of all, I'm done holding back from the things I want just because society wants so badly to tell me no."

He pulled in a deep breath, still standing in Y/n personal space. Neither boy had moved back.

"I want you, Y/n, and I think you've known that for as long as I have. If I haven't missed my guess, you want me too. I'm certainly not alone in all the looks I've sent your way, and I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn't at least find out if you could feel the same way as I do for you."

Y/n sighed and shifted back a step.

"Those are pretty words Lucius, easy to say them here, alone in a secluded corner of someone else's manor, but how will you feel walking into Hogwarts next week, and letting everyone see. How will you feel when your parents cut you off?"

"I'm not totally helpless Y/n, I'll find a way to survive. I know for sure that if I have you by my side there isn't anything that we can't face."

He softly took Y/n's hand and stroked the back with his thumb.

"So what do you say? Can you feel the same way I do?"

Y/n shut his eyes in resignation.

"You know I do."

They stood at the end of their silent hallway for some time, just holding each other.

"You know this will be the second scandal of the night?"

Lucius pulled back to look at Y/n.

"What do you mean?"

Y/n looked at Lucius, shocked.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? Didn't you hear, just before you pulled me out of there, one of the older Blacks ran in and caused quite the scene. By the looks of things Andromeda is missing. From what I managed to gather, she's run off with that muggleborn from Ravenclaw, you know, Tonks-something, or something-Tonks."

[andvys]

Fine line part fifteen 

warnings: angst, smut 

pairing: Ellie Williams x reader 

“please don’t leave.” she whispered, pleading with her eyes “don’t leave me.” 

You stared into her eyes, trying to read her emotions. 

“why?” you asked her. 

She furrowed her brows at your questions, not understanding how you could ask this. Did she really need to tell you why?

“why?” she muttered.

Nodding your head, you waited for an answer, impatiently. 

“I told you not to leave me and you ask me why?” she questioned, shaking her head “isn't it enough that I want you to stay?” she asked, dropping her hands to her side as she took a step back from you, her gaze turning from a worried one into an angry one.

No longer feeling the warmth from her, a shiver ran down your spine at the way she was glaring at you. 

Reminding you of old times.

Blinking, you took a deep breath “I never said it’s not enough, I wanna know why.” you explained, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited for her to say something. 

“you know why, y/n.” she muttered, looking away from you, guiltily. 

She wanted to say these three words so badly but she was afraid to scare you away even more.

Nodding, you pursed your lips, looking down at the floor. 

So you were right, the reason why she wanted you to stay wasn't because she had feelings for you but because she was just worried about a friend getting hurt. 

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before you looked up at her again, noticing how she was still looking away. She looked like she wanted to say more but couldn't, she couldn't even look you in the eyes right now. 

You knew that she knew that you had feelings for her, that you have fallen for her and now she felt bad because she didn't reciprocate the same feelings after making the first move.

At least that's what you thought. 

You should've known it was just sex and friendship to her. 

Of course she wouldn't have these type of feelings for you, after everything. 

Tears started welling up in your eyes when realization dawned on you, she didn't feel the same way, she didn't love you. 

You felt like the room was closing in on you, the air was getting thicker and you desperately wanted to leave. 

Deciding not to wait until tomorrow you walked past Ellie and grabbed your backpack and started to fill it with things you would need for that trip, blinking the tears away while you were doing so. 

Ellie turned around, furrowing her brows as she watched you pack your backpack hastily. 

A sinking feeling set in her stomach when she realized you were packing to leave. 

“wh-what are you doing?” she asked, walking towards you. 

You didn't answer her, instead, you grabbed a hoodie, not realizing it was hers, putting it on you grabbed your switchblade attaching it to your belt as you flung your backpack over your shoulder. 

“y/n!” Ellie breathed, a panicked expression appeared on her face as she watched you getting ready to leave, her heart began to race at the thought of you leaving her. 

“I'm going, you don’t have to worry about me.” you muttered as you walked over to the door to leave. 

Everything in Ellie was screaming at her to say something, to beg you to stay, to tell you these three words.

She thought you knew how she felt about you but clearly you didn't, or you didn't believe she could have these sort of feelings for you. 

You grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door open.

“I love you..” 

Halting in your steps, you furrowed your brows as more tears filled your eyes. 

These words were supposed to bring you joy but instead they brought you more sadness. 

She could’ve told you this before but she couldn't, because she didn't want to say them. 

Now she did because she wanted you to stay. 

Anything to keep you safe. 

You closed your eyes as a single tear ran down your cheek, taking a deep breath you opened your eyes again and turned around to look at her one last time. 

You were met with her sad expression, her eyes were glassy as she stared at you, hoping you would change your mind. 

“no you don’t.” you whispered shakily before you turned around and left. 

-

Staring at the door, she blinked, hurt that you didn’t believe her words but she understood why you felt that way. 

She didn't blame you not after Ethan, not after she didn't say it when you were begging her to say it.

Taking a few deep breaths she looked down at the floor, not knowing what to do.

She couldn’t just let you leave like that, not when everything in her was screaming at her to make you stay, to not let you go. 

She didn't want to let you go, not like that. 

Grabbing her jacket, she rushed out the door, running after you. 

She ran through Jackson, hoping you were still there, it was beginning to get dark outside which made her even more nervous. 

You were ready to leave Jackson at night, when it was the most dangerous out there.

All because you wanted to get away from her. 

She found you rushing towards the stables.

“y/n!” she called out as she picked up her pace to catch up to you. 

“y/n, wait!” she repeated, she knew you heard her but decided to ignore her and keep walking as she was following you. 

“goddamnit wait.” she muttered as she came closer, grabbing your arm she turned you around, sadness filled her when she saw your tear streaked face. 

“what?!” you exclaimed, looking anywhere but at her face.

“I won’t let you go.” she told you, looking at you in worry.

You scoffed before you pulled your arm out of her grip and turned around to keep walking but she stopped you again, pulling on your hand she turned you around to face her again, she grabbed your face and slammed her lips against yours, kissing you softly and passionately. 

She poured every emotion into the kiss, trying to show you how much you meant to her through her touch. 

You felt her wipe a tear away from your cheek as she deepened the kiss when she felt you kissing her back with just as much passion and emotions. 

You felt conflicted, how was she able to make you think that she didn't love you and then make you think otherwise the next minute. 

Pulling away breathlessly, you stared into each other’s eyes, panting as you tried to catch your breath. 

She stared with nothing but love and adoration for the girl in front of her. 

She loves you, she always did. 

“stop running away from me.” she whispered, leaning her forehead against yours. 

You sniffled as you closed your eyes, putting your arms around her neck, you leaned into her. 

“just come home.” she whispered, hoping you would change your mind.

She was scared that this would be the last kiss.

You didn't want to leave, you wanted to stay, you wanted to stay with her.

“okay.” you whispered.

Ellie closed her eyes, sighing in relief as she pulled you into a hug. 

She almost lost you. 

“let’s go home.” 

-

Pulling you inside her home, she closed the door and turned around to face you again, she grabbed your backpack and put it down not waisting any time she took your face in her hands gently, pressing her lips against yours, kissing you softly.

You sighed into the kiss, savoring the moment as she began to press kisses along your jawline while she pushed you back towards the bed. 

Pushing her jacket off, you let it fall to the floor, you pulled away from her and grabbed the hem of your hoodie, you started taking it off with the help of Ellie, letting it fall next to the jacket. 

Pecking your lips, she stared into your eyes, while her hands laid on your waist, pulling you into her, she stared pressing kiss along your jaw, down to your neck. 

You closed your eyes and tilted your head slightly when she started sucking on your skin, your hands ran through her hair as she was marking your neck. 

Every worry, every fear that you had, faded away the second you felt her lips on you. She was able to make you forget about everything that brought you pain and suffer. 

You were fooling yourself for making yourself believe that you could run from your feelings and get rid of them once you would be apart. 

There was no running away from these type of feelings, no matter how much distance there was between you, no matter how many days you would be apart, you simply couldn't run away from her. 

You didn't just love her.

You were in love with her.

And you knew that this would stay this way forever until your last breath. 

Trapped between her arms, you laid under her, the only pair of clothing left on your body was your underwear, that she started to slip off as she stared into your eyes, her touch sending sparks through your body as her hand was running up your thigh.

She leaned down, kissing your lips as you moaned into her mouth when her fingers started rubbing circles on your clit, causing you to arch your back at the sudden feeling of pleasure. 

Your hands moved around her neck, gripping her tightly as you were making out with your lover. 

Moving her fingers down, she pushed one inside causing you to moan again as your grip on her tightened when she added a second finger, moving them at a slow pace, curling them as they were buried deep inside you. 

Breaking the kiss, you sighed and moaned in pleasure, when she hit a particular spot that made you see stars as her thumb started rubbing circles on your clit again. 

Ellie looked down at you, watching you as came undone beneath her, your head thrown back against the pillows as your eyes were shut, biting down on your lip, you tried to keep your moans quiet as you started grinding yourself against her hand. 

“you are so beautiful, y/n.” Ellie whispered.

Grabbing your chin with her free hand, she put her thumb against your lips, opening your mouth slightly, so you wouldn't bite down on your bottom lip anymore.

“let me hear your pretty moans, babygirl.” she murmured as she leaned down to press against your neck while her fingers picked up the pace.

Arching your back, you tried to meet the thrusts of her fingers, moaning out loudly as the pleasure started to become overwhelming. 

“fuck.” Ellie mumbled as she pulled back to watch you, she could just cum right then and there, just by watching you and by pleasuring you. 

“cum for me babe.” Ellie whispered as her hand ran over your chest, stopping at your throat, she wrapped her fingers around it, squeezing softly adding more pleasure to your body. “cum around my fingers y/n.” 

Biting down on your lip again, you furrowed your brows, almost crying out in pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you. 

“that’s it.” Ellie whispered, as she helped you ride out your orgasm. 

Pulling her fingers out, she put them in her mouth, moaning at your sweet taste when she licked her fingers clean before she crawled down, getting off the bed she kneeled down and pulled you towards the edge of the bed, before you could react she parted your legs and leaned in as she started to eat you out, moaning at the taste of you on your tongue.

You whimpered at the feeling of her tongue that was buried deep inside you, moaning loudly, you looked down at her as she was eating you out while looking up at you, watching you as you lost yourself in the pleasure. 

Her thumb found it’s way to your sensitive clit, rubbing you, she grabbed you tighter and pulled you even closer. 

You tried to close your legs around her head but she pushed them back down, causing you to cry out in pleasure. 

“Ellie..” you whimpered, your hand finding it’s way into her hair, tugging on it, making her groan against you. 

“I can’t.. Ellie..” you moaned, shutting your eyes, you couldn't help but grind yourself against her as you felt your second orgasm approach. 

“cum for me, pretty girl.” she mumbled. 

She let go of your thighs, letting you close them in around her head as you came into her mouth. 

She moaned against you as she started licking you clean causing you to jerk against her as you whined in protest because of how sensitive you were already. 

Looking down at her, you noticed her jaw glistened from your juices as she wiped her mouth, licking it off her fingers before she started kissing up your body until she was facing you again. 

Panting heavily, you tried to calm yourself from all the pleasure she put you through. 

She leaned down, kissing your lips sweetly before she gave her attention to your neck once more. 

“I-is this your way of convincing me to stay?” you breathed, putting an arm around her. 

She chuckled against you as she pulled away from your neck and looked down at you before her face got serious again “no, this is my way of showing you how much I love you.” she whispered. 

You opened your eyes and stared at her, looking into her eyes, all you could see was love. She was genuine, she wasn't just saying that to make you stay, she was saying it because it was the truth. 

You pulled her down by her neck, you kissed her softly. 

“I love you, Ellie.” 

Her eyes widened at your confession, not expecting you to say it right away, shocked, she stared at you for a while until a smile tugged at her lips. She felt nothing but happiness and love right now. 

Leaning she pecked your lips again. 

“is that why you wanted to leave?” she asked you as she laid down next to you after putting a blanket over you. 

You turned on your side to face her, thinking about her words.

“I'm scared, Ellie.” you whispered.

She furrowed her brows as she stared at you. Remembering a similar conversation that you had a while ago when you confessed to being scared about your feelings. 

“did you think I would reject you if you told me you love me?” she asked you, a little shocked.

You swallowed before you nodded. 

“oh y/n.” she mumbled, looking at you sadly “I could never, I love you, I think I already did when we weren't even friends, I didn't call you my girl for nothing.” she told you, putting her hand on your cheek “you are my girl.” 

Blinking away your tears, you leaned into her and hugged her “and you are my girl.” you whispered as you grabbed her hand placing a kiss on top of her knuckle. 

“that I am.” she smiled as she pulled you into her, hugging you close to her. 

She would never let you go, she would never let you put yourself in danger again, as long as she was with you, she promised herself that she would take care of you and love you like you deserved to be loved because you deserved more than what this world had to offer.