#the person on the house who has always been the most cautious and terrified of this thing

[bumpscosity]

Remember how I said if December went wrong it’s be my last straw. My dad got covid.

[sacrificethemtothesquid]

It’s taken me almost a month to write this post, but here we are. Let’s see if I can get through it without dissolving.

We lost Skittish. 

Cut for animal death.

Skittish was diagnosed with inflammatory bowel disease about a year ago, but with a combo of prescription food, anti-nausea meds and steroids, she kept rallying. There was no specific prognosis, no hard timeline, but she was sixteen and I knew that at some point, it would have to end. My goal has always been to keep her comfortable, to not stress her out with invasive medical tests or treatments, and when the time came, to offer her a quick, compassionate release.

When I got up that Monday, I knew it was time. She’d been increasingly lethargic over the last few weeks, and when I went to say good morning, she didn’t chirp her usual greeting or even respond to my touch. There’s a vet in town who will come to your house, and I made an appointment for the afternoon, intending to spend our last few hours together snuggling and letting her know how deeply she was loved. 

We didn’t have those few hours. When my dad died, we were all there with him - my mom, my sister and me. The nurse explained the body’s process of dying, the way breathing and heartbeat change, the way muscles shiver in the absence of coherent signal. We held his hands and dabbed a damp sponge on his lips and counted the unsteady cadence of his pulse in the thin skin of his throat. Living things are living things, so when I laid down with Skittish, curling together in a pool of sunshine on the guest bed, I recognized the process, and knew that the afternoon was too far away.

We tried to get to the vet. We bundled her up in a towel thinking we could provide a little bit of mercy. We made it to an exam room, but she died on my lap before the doctor could come in. It was quick, quiet, and I was holding her. There’s no such thing as a great death - I just gave her the best one I could, and even though it was so incredibly hard to witness her leave, I’m so grateful she wasn’t alone. She was sixteen. 

Her name isn’t really Skittish - that’s just her internet identity, but it fits her perfectly. I got her when she was three months old. I was a sophomore in college and my mom was furious with me. “You work too much already,” she said. “You don’t need another thing to be responsible for.” But my roommate and I found her on Petfinder and love is irrational. 

I mean, look at her. 

She was an awkward kitten who grew into an awkward cat. She never quite learned to be graceful. She had weak hips which meant clawing her way up furniture rather than leaping. She was painfully shy. My roommate had a rabbit and Skittish was terrified of him.

She didn’t like new people. She hated my boyfriends. I was working my way through an unfortunate string of redheads, and after the last fling fizzled out, I promised both of us that if she didn’t like someone, he wasn’t worth my time. The next person was the future Husbandthing, and the first time she met him, she rubbed all over his shoes. She knew before I did. 

She was six when the Hellbeast came into the picture. (Again, fluffiest cat on Petfinder.) They were interested in each other for about a month, and then they decided that no, they did not like each other, and would tolerate coexistence as long as distance was maintained. 

Sometimes, they’d deign to be in the same room together, but only if there wasn’t a better sunny spot anywhere else.

When Skittish felt safe, she was bright and curious. Construction didn’t really bother her, and she was a cautious supervisor.

She was never a lap cat until she got older, and then she would immediately snuggle whenever my lap was available. She was happiest curled up next to me under the covers.

The last year of her life was hard. She couldn’t keep much food down despite being on a battery of anti-nausea meds and subsequently lost a lot of weight, but through it all, she stayed cheerful. She spent most of her time asleep on the guest bed, but whenever I came to sit and snuggle with her, she always chirped a welcome and eagerly purred. When Zoom abruptly became a daily occurrence, as soon as I sat down, she would join me and drool on my leg, blissed out as I brushed her. 

I miss her. I’m grateful she’s no longer in pain. I’m glad to not be cleaning up cat puke all the time, but the house dynamic has shifted dramatically. I feel off-balance. Muscle memory insists on checking the guest room, but there’s no one there. When I brush my teeth, there’s no one sitting on the toilet demanding skritches. When I’m on Zoom, any passing movement in my periphery brings a thrill of relief - here comes my girl! - and then I remember that there’s no one to sit on my lap anymore. In meetings, other people have cats wandering across their desks, and it fucking hurts to know that I don’t have that anymore.

I miss the click of her arthritic hips as she walks. The house is painfully silent, and it’s hard to take a nap when I don’t have the familiar weight of a cat resting on my belly. The Hellbeast is still here, of course, beloved and noisy, following me around and yelling to get my attention, but instead of four beings in this house, there are only three of us and things just feel empty.

I’ll get through it. We’ll get through it. Like my mom said, it’s hard to raise a puss from kittenhood knowing what will eventually come, but I can’t imagine not having her through the years. She was a good girl, my best girl, my Miss Mouse, my college kitty, my sweet old lady, the one that the vet always fawned over and praised for being gorgeous and well-behaved. She was never very interested in Crimes, and if she was extremely upset with something you were doing, she’d gently, almost apologetically, put her mouth on your arm, never breaking skin. If you took the time to win her over, carefully and with respect, you were richly rewarded by her presence. She kept me company when I was in a bad mental space. She played hide-and-seek when she was feeling spicy. She made our house a home.

When she was leaving, I told her it was all right, that she was safe, that it was okay to go. I’m so grateful that she existed and so grateful that she loved me as much as I loved her. I miss her so much, but I’m so grateful to have shared my life with her.

There have been five deaths in the family in the last two years, so I know how to weather the grief. I know how to acknowledge the pain. This is a long obituary, but I need to put the words down somewhere. I don’t know what to do with her ashes, since she hated the outdoors, but currently she’s in a box under the bed, one of her favorite hiding places, and for now, that feels right. 

Thanks, kitten. You were the best. 

[wizkiddx]

hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl

part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !

summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)

warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

read part 1 here!!!!

That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.

The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.

It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.

"Oh! Er Y/n?"

"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.

"Toms not-"

"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.

“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”

Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"

"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.

Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.

"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"

Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.

"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.

"Your answer to everything is tea."

Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.

"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."

The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.

"How have you been then?"

"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"

"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.

"Yeh sorry about that."

"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."

That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.

"He say that?"

"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."

"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.

"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."

This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.

He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.

"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."

Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.

"What'd he say?"

"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."

"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"

Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?

Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."

Hmmm.

You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.

And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.

And yet, Tom was a grown man.

"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"

"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "

Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.

"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.

"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"

"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.

It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.

"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.

For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.

"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"

"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."

"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."

"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."

"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.

Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.

"So."

"So."

"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.

"You never called."

"Didn't think you'd want me to."

You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.

"I wanted you to say something."

"Say what?"

"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.

"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"

You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.

"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"

The bloody cheek of it.

"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.

"You want to talk about this now?"

"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.

He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.

"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.

"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."

Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."

This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.

"I love you too."

"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.

The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.

"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.

It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.

"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."

You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.

"But why don't you want to move in then?"

There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.

You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.

?give tom a final chance w one last part?

feedback is always v v appreciated <3

tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08

people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes

[crysalita]

Brahms the Boy

Brahms Heelshire x reader

Word Count: 3097

Warnings: Violence, Death, Cole

When I was asked to accompany Greta with her new babysitting job, the last thing I expected was to find a doll that we would be looking after.

I didn’t dare question why we had to look after a porcelain doll because I felt it would be rude to ask, and besides, this just makes everything easier for us.

The house was lovely, slightly creepy, but lovely none of the less. It was a big house for an elderly couple and sometimes I felt so alone, minus the constant feeling of someone watching me.

Every now and then I would here creaks in the walls, but I would brush them off being the fact that the house was quite old.

We were given a set of rules that we were to follow, most of them were okay. I didn’t know how I felt about rule number 4 and rule number 10, never cover Brahms’ face and kiss goodnight.

After finding out that Brahms was capable of moving on his own, I was beginning to be more cautious on the things I did, always keeping an eye out.

*

“Tell Greta to think about us getting back together.” Cole pleads. I was pulled aside so Cole could convince me to talk to Greta about their, long gone, relationship. “I love her, I really do.”

“She doesn’t want to be with you. She’s moved on.” I reply calmly. I noticed that the more I denied his pleas, the more he was getting angry.

I wince as he grabs a hold of my arm and pulls me close. “You better hope that she wants to get back with me, because if not, she’ll be saying good-bye to you too.” He threatens.

He lets go of my arm and allows me to walk away.

Greta was standing outside of the room, holding onto Brahms. “He wants to talk with you.” I mumbled. I covered my arm behind my back before reaching for Brahms.

I hold onto Brahms tightly as I wait for Greta and Cole to finish their conversation. “Why can’t he just leave her alone.” I whisper to Brahms. “I just wish he would leave.”

Cole was never a personal favourite, for obvious reasons, but I never had the heart to tell Greta all the horrible things he would say to me. She always seemed so in love, and I didn’t want to ruin that for her.

I walk up the stairs and into Brahms room where I lay him down on his bed. I do the usual routine where I tuck Brahms into his bed and left with a goodnight kiss before I walked back to my own room and went to bed.

*

I was awoken when I heard calls from downstairs, I instantly shot out of bed and ran down. “Greta!” Greta was ahead of me as she entered the room that Cole was staying in. “Get in here.” Cole grabs Greta by the arm and pulls her into the room, me following behind her. “What is this?” We were met with the words ‘get out’ written in, what I could only assume, was blood. “Was this you?”

“I didn’t do that.” My eyes land on Brahms sitting in a chair, directly underneath the message.

“Brahms.” I mutter. I rush over to Brahms where I pick him up and keep him close to me, making sure Cole can’t get to him.

“The doll wrote this? How do we know it wasn’t your psycho bitch friend?” Cole points a finger at me as he scowls. This doesn’t work in his favour as Greta comes over to me and stands beside me. “Ok, fine. It wasn’t either of you. It was the doll.”

With each word, Cole takes a step forward until he’s directly in front of us. “Give me the doll.” I shake my head at his demand and the second he takes another step, I take off running out of the room, tugging Greta to follow along.

“It was me; I swear. Just don’t touch Brahms.”

My lack of direction caused me to end up cornering us in a room as Cole blocked the door. “Give me the doll!” He launches himself forward and grabs Brahms by the legs, shoving me backwards to I hit Greta.

I fall to the ground from the shove, and Malcolm comes running in. “Hey! Get your things and get out of here!” He shouts at Cole.

With the help of Greta, I am able to get back onto my feet and my eyes lock onto Brahms who was being swung around carelessly by Cole. “You know, everyone just seems to be in a big hurry for me to leave. Maybe-” He turns to Malcolm. “Maybe you left that message for me. Huh? Or are you gonna say it was the doll too?”

“Just put Brahms down and we can talk about this.” I attempt to get Cole to leave Brahms alone, but it’s no use.

“Cole, you don’t understand-”

“No, I think I understand exactly what’s going on here. What’s so special about this doll?”

As I go to take a step towards Cole and reach for Brahms, Cole raises Brahms up and swings him back down, causing the doll to hit the edge of a chair and shatter into pieces. The ashes from the doll fly up and I am left in shock. “Brahms.” I mumble.

Suddenly, from inside the walls, we could hear the sound of movement. There were creaks and bangs as well as the lights beginning to flicker. “We need to leave.”

It was as if someone was walking through the walls as everything stopped when it reached a mirror. Cole approaches the mirror and puts his ear to it, in order to hear what’s inside. “We should really go.” Malcolm places a hand on both Greta and me.

“There’s something-” The glass smashes in Cole’s face as he is sent flying back, hitting the ground right in front of us, but that wasn’t what I was focused on.

I was focused on the figure that stood behind the mirror. “Y/n?” My eyes widen as I hear my name being called. “Y/n? Are you okay?” A hand comes out from the mirror followed by the person behind it.

The man hidden behind a mask comes out from the mirror and stands to his full height, towering over Cole who was on the floor in front of him. “Is that-” I begin, but I am cut off by Malcolm.

“It’s Brahms.”

“It can’t be.”

Malcolm runs forward to block Brahms from getting to Cole, but he shoved a way and instead takes a hit to the side of the head with a broken stick of wood.

The man then turns his attention back to Cole and gets on top of him. “Brahms!” I try to stop Brahms from hitting Cole, but once again I find myself on the floor. “Brahms, stop it!” I cry.

Brahms then proceeds to pick up a broken piece from the doll and stabs it straight into Cole’s neck. Blood spills out from the wound and my ears are filled with a chocking sound from Cole.

I stare in shock at the sight in front of me. “Y/n!” My head snaps towards where Greta was standing as she calls me over. This gains Brahms’ attention as he wraps his arms around me and holds me back.

“No!’ I hear his childlike voice whimper. A bit of me broke when I heard him say that, but he also just killed a man right in front of me. "Please, no.”

“Brahms, let her go!” Brahms’ arms tighten around me as he pulls me close.

Brahms’ turn us around and walks us towards the open spot in the wall.

I hear the sound of someone getting hit and then Brahms’ arms loosen around me, and I yanked out of his grip.

Greta holds on as we run up the stairs and into her room that she was staying in. By now I was breathing heavily, whether it was from the amount of running I have done today, or because of how terrified I am, I wasn’t too sure.

Malcolm frantically runs around the room as he looks for a way of escaping. “Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt us.” The door handle then begins to rattle as Brahms tries to get in.

“Maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he just killed Cole.” Greta replies. The rattling stops and we start hearing the creaking from inside the wall. “The closet!” Greta runs over to the door and slams it shut. I assist Greta in holding the door shut as Malcolm looks around the room.

A plank from the door is smashed in and Brahms’ arm comes through, grabbing a hold of me again. My hand reaches up to release myself from the hold, and as my hand connects with Brahms, I feel him go tense.

The door opens and Brahms is met with a hit in the face, or mask, from Malcolm who was holding a telephone.

We are, once again, running out of the room and heading into another. “Look.” I point over to the hole in the wall. “We can go through there.” I take the lead as we run through the inside of the wall.

We dodge past pipes and chunks in of the wall that is sticking out.

We find ourselves in a whole new room that looks to be where Brahms has been staying. It was messy and the room smelt foul.

I recognise some things in the room that were once mine, for example, bits of jewellery, notes, and even some clothes. “Y/n, over here.” Greta was standing by a bed, and it was then that I saw the makeshift doll that was wearing a dress of mine that I had lost. The had been decorated with all things that I had lost over the time that I was staying here, and I didn’t miss the magazines and tissues that were scrunched up around the doll.

Beside the bed, and on the nightstand, was a piece of paper. On the paper had the words 'I love you Y/n.’ I didn’t know how to feel about that. Whether I should be flattered, or absolutely mortified at how creepy this all was.

“We will not be back, the girl is yours now, to love and keep.” Greta was reading another piece of paper that she had found. “They were never coming back. He’s been living in the walls this whole time, watching us, or more Y/n. They knew.” Malcolm comes down and guides us to the exit.

I take one last look back at the room before I leave.

We climb down the ladder and quietly make our way out, the only source of light being from the gaps between the wooden planks.

We are stopped when the wall comes caving in and Brahms falls down on top of Malcolm. Brahms is kicked in the face causing him to fall backwards, this way we could drag Malcolm up to his feet.

I feel an ounce of excitement when we end up finding a door that would take us outside, but I also felt sad. I didn’t want to leave this house; I grew attached in such little amount of time.

“It’s locked.” Greta shoves herself into the door in order to open it, but I am too distracted by what is about to come.

Malcolm shoves past me and is tackled to the ground by Brahms.

Fists are swung left to right, but in the end Brahms is the one that comes out on top as he smashes Malcolm’s head into the ground.

“Y/n!” The child voice breaks through. “Y/n!” Brahms’ head turns towards me as I watch his eyes behind the mask. They light up when we make eye contact, something that made me melt inside. “I’ll be good, I promise.” He peers through the pipes.

I look back at Greta who was still desperately trying to make an escape. “Please, Y/n. Don’t leave me.” Brahms begs. Greta shakes her head at me, and I send her a small smile.

“Go, I’ll stay.”

“What? Y/n, no!” I keep my eyes locked with her, but I don’t bother saying anything. “Okay but be safe.” Greta gets the door unlocked and runs out.

I turn back to Brahms who held his hand out towards me. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” He says innocently. I hesitantly place my hand in his and he gently helps me out.

My eyes stray everywhere else but Brahms and Malcolm, who I wasn’t even sure if he was alive at this point. “Thank you, Y/n. You’re the only person that wouldn’t leave me.” Brahms speaks.

I didn’t know if he’s child voice made the situation better or worse, when he spoke, I felt as if he wouldn’t hurt me, or anyone for that matter, but by the two bodies lying on the ground, I knew that I was far from right.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave you.” I remember all the times where I had whispered to the doll Brahms, that I would never leave him alone. “But it’s bedtime, and you know the rules.” His shoulders drop as he nods his head.

Brahms guides me through the confined space in the walls and even helps me step over bits that are sticking out of the floor. “I love you, Y/n. You will never leave me.” Brahms whispers. I silently nod along in agreement and then we are finally out of the small gap and are in Brahms’ room.

I walk over to the bed and lift the covers. “Lay down.” I order. He follows along with what I say and keeps his arms tucked underneath the blanket. Behind the mask, his eyes follow my every movement. “Good boy Brahms, now go to sleep.”

“Kiss?” He mumbles.

I debate on whether I should actually do what he says, but since he was following the rules, the most I could do was follow them too, even if he didn’t necessarily deserve it.

I slowly lean down until I am right above Brahms’, his eyes were piercing through me. I place a gentle kiss right beside the lips of his mask before I pull away, only to be stopped when Brahms’ sits up.

He doesn’t say anything, but instead releases his arms out from underneath the covers and pulls me back down to him in an awkward kiss.

The porcelain lips were cold against my own, and I was unsure of what to do.

I place my hands on Brahms’ shoulders and push him down. “Go to sleep Brahms.” I smile. I watch as his eyes close and then I walk out of the room, flicking the light off along the way.

I walk back downstairs to see Greta walking back in. “Y/n!” She runs towards me and pulls me in for a hug. “You’re okay.” She checks over my body.

“I’m fine but listen. I’m gonna stay.” I tell Greta. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at me with confusion.

“No, Y/n. You’ll-”

“Get Malcolm and leave. I’ll be okay, I promise.” Her eyes held a sense of sadness in them as they glossed over with tears. “He won’t hurt me; he just wants someone to stay with him. I’ll call you often, don’t worry about me, and don’t go to the police about this, please.” I explain.

It took Greta some time, but she eventually ended up giving in. “Okay, I won’t go to the police, but as soon as I feel that something has happened, I will be storming up that footpath, with murder on my mind, you hear me?” I nod my head at her threat.

“Let’s go get Malcolm, and check if he’s fine, I’m not even sure if he’s alive.” I lead Greta up to the room that I knew would lead us down to Malcolm, the only problem is that that was the same room that Brahms was in. I peak my head in the room to see that he was now sitting up right, staring over at us.

As soon as he sees Greta he stands up and reaches for a weapon. “Wait, Brahms!” I run forward and stop him from grabbing something. “She’s going to get Malcolm and then she’s going to leave.” Brahms eyes Greta with a look of anger. “They won’t bother us any longer.” His eyes snap down to mine and then he nods his head, pointing over at the trap door that leads us to the wall. “I will stay, I promise.” Brahms gets back into his bed, and I take Greta with me through the walls.

When we stumble across Malcolm, he was just waking up as he rubs the back of his head. “Malcolm!” Greta greets Malcolm with a hug as she checks his wounds.

“Are you girls alright? Where’s Brahms?”

“We’re fine, but Y/n, she’s going to stay here, with Brahms.” Greta tells Malcolm. He looks over at me like I was some crazy girl, which I couldn’t blame him for.

“Are you out of your mind? He’ll hurt you.”

“Then I’ll be the only one to blame. Look, I don’t want to leave him alone again, he doesn’t have his parents anymore. He needs someone.”

“That’s not your job to keep him company, he is a sick person who needs help-” I interrupt Malcolm before he can continue with his insults.

“I want to stay, Malcolm, and that’s that. Leave while you still have a chance.” The door to the outside was still left wide open from when Greta had run through, leaving them with the perfect opportunity to make their escape. “I’ll call you tomorrow, Greta.”

“Yeah, if you’re still alive.” Malcolm mumbles. He crawls out the door leaving myself and Greta alone.

“Be safe Y/n, please.” We exchange a hug before she takes off behind Malcolm and I shut the door, letting out a sigh as I do so.

I take my time walking back and when I finally reach Brahms’ room, he was standing up and waiting. “You took too long, I got scared.” He whimpers.

Brahms’ fiddles with his hands as he stands across the room from me. “How about you sleep in my bed tonight?” I’m not sure why I decided to say that, but the look in Brahms’ eyes was enough to make me not regret the offer.

He was happy, so, so was I.

[animeomegas]

What do you think about iruka’s alpha coming into the picture after he’s adopted naruto already?

@queenondeezmatatas : Omg monarch I was just thinking, let’s say that iruka adopted naruto when naruto was around 3 or 4, and then when his alpha comes around when naruto is around 12 like in the anime, and they start getting together etc. I can imagine iruka getting worried about letting this person into his family and everything that comes with that, so when naruto expresses his approval of this alpha that iruka really likes he’s just like🥺🥺 and imagine some time later, the first time naruto calls you his parent as well🥺🥺ugh I’m soft🥰🥰🥰

(Hmm, well let’s say Naruto was adopted when he was 8, because that’s when Iruka would have turned 18 and been able to adopt him legally, and now he’s just turned 12, but yes, this is a very interesting idea! Iruka absolutely gets worried about everything to do with this and it's so cute! Let’s see!)

The main difference is that Iruka is a lot more cautious when dating or courting any alphas if he already has custody of Naruto because he knows how the general population feel about him. No one is meeting Naruto for months at least, they aren’t allowed anywhere near Iruka’s house, and Iruka will put up with no disparaging remarks about Naruto, none at all.

But let’s say that everything has been going amazingly between Iruka and a new alpha. This alpha is perfect for Iruka is every way, and, from their discussions at least, they seem to have no problem with Naruto.

But Iruka is still terrified of introducing them. Because it’s one thing to not say anything bad about Naruto to Iruka's face and it’s another thing to help raise him. Iruka is so in love, and he doesn’t want to lose this alpha… But he will if they can’t handle Naruto. Naruto is his first priority, always.

Much sooner than he’d like, the fateful meeting day is upon him.

He’s inviting his alpha over to his house for dinner for the first time (to eat takeaway Ichiraku ramen because Iruka’s cooking sadly leaves much to be desired), and Naruto is joining you both after he’s finished his D ranks for the day.

…

You watch as Iruka nervously plates up the takeaway ramen into fancier dishes and tries to set the table for three. He’s already dropped the cutlery multiple times and smashed a glass in the sink.

“Iruka, here,” you say, taking the next batch of cutlery out of his hands and moving to carefully start setting the table. “Don’t be nervous, everything will be fine.”

Iruka gives you a shaky breath and a smile.

“I know, I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “That. It’s just that Naruto wasn’t happy when I told him I was courting someone, and I don’t want him to be upset or feel replaced or anything. He hasn’t said it in a long time, but I know he’s often worried that one day I’ll get tired of him and abandon him.”

You finish setting the table before you step forward and pull Iruka into an embrace.

“He sounds like a good kid,” you say firmly, rubbing your thumbs on Iruka’s hips. “And I’m sure we’ll get along just fine. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how nervous you are about how I’ll react to Naruto, too.”

Iruka jumps, blushing somewhat at being called out so directly, but before he can defend himself you hold up a hand to stop him.

“I don’t blame you for being nervous, ‘Ruka, I think it’s admirable, and not to mention sexy, how protective you are” you reassure and Iruka hits you lightly on the arm for the sexy comment. “I’m just trying to let you know that you have nothing to worry about, I’m not so closed minded as to blame a child for events that happened when he was a baby.”

“I know, I know, I’m just…”

“Nervous?”

“Shut up.”

…

Dinner had gone better than expected. Iruka’s idea of distracting Naruto with ramen had worked like a charm at lowering his defences and allowing for Iruka’s son and the person who he hoped would one day be his mate to start bonding.

Things weren’t perfect, Iruka could tell that Naruto was nervous about being replaced by this new person, and he’d never been the best at sharing Iruka’s attention (it had made the teaching Naruto’s class at the academy something of a challenge at times.)

But Iruka was now sure of his choice in alpha. They truly were perfect!

They had spoken to Naruto with only the kindest and most patient of voices, they had understood his boundaries and never pushed them, they didn’t hold the Kyuubi against him, and they appeared to be both dedicated to helping raise Naruto and also respectful of Iruka’s final say as Naruto’s father. They had taken every one of his concerns about them and obliterated them from his mind.

Iruka felt giddy.

He just had to make sure Naruto was feeling okay after everything this evening. He had been pretty enthusiastic in the middle, eager to have the attention and affection from someone new, but when he’d walked in on Iruka and his soon-to-be alpha kissing goodbye in the doorway, some of the enthusiasm and left him and Iruka couldn’t figure out what was going on in his head.

…

“Hey, you ready for bed?” Iruka asks softly, stepping into Naruto’s bright orange room without so much of a wince (practice after many years.)

“Mhmm,” Naruto hums affirmatively. He’s laying on his bed in his pyjamas, half-heartedly packing up his weaponry ready for training tomorrow.

“I know that must have been a lot,” Iruka tries to bring up this evening carefully as he perches on the bed next to Naruto. “How are you feeling?”

Naruto shrugs but Iruka can see that he has something to say.

“What is it, Naruto? You can tell me, this is your home too, you always have a say,” Iruka says, hoping beyond hope that Naruto hasn’t decided he hates Iruka’s partner.

“Will you get mated?”

“I-“ Iruka hesitates but tries to answer honestly. “Probably, if you’re okay with it and everything goes well.”

Naruto considers that answer for a moment before continuing.

“And then you’ll have pups, right? That’s what people do when they get mated, Sakura-chan said so.”

“It’s what some people do,” Iruka gently corrects. “And… I’m not sure yet, maybe, maybe not. Is that something you would want? A sibling?”

“They’d be my sibling?” Naruto asks, surprised. “But I’m…”

“You’re my pup, Naruto, that’s what you are,” Iruka says firmly and with no room for argument. He pulls Naruto in for a hug and Naruto immediately accepts the affection. He had always been a tactile person, and hugs were a good method for calming him down. “Any other children I may or may not have will be equally as important as you, and I will love them just as much as I love you, no more and no less.”

“Do you promise?” Naruto asks, voice muffled by Iruka’s shoulder. Naruto grips the back of Iruka’s shirt tightly in an effort to elongate the embrace.

“I promise,” Iruka says fiercely.

Iruka holds to embrace, wanting to let Naruto decide when to break it. And he doesn’t for several minutes, so Iruka just rocks him slightly, stroking his hair and placing kisses on the top of his head. Naruto’s insecurities are not unexpected, but they still break Iruka’s heart every time he’s confronted with them.

“Okay,” Naruto says eventually, pulling away from the hug a little. “Then I approve.”

“What?”

“I approve,” Naruto says again, firmly and with a determined glint in his eyes. “They’re nice and they like ramen and they… they make you smile and I’m going to be going on long and dangerous missions soon to protect princesses, so I won’t be able to make you smile all the time. They can do it for me.”

“Oh, Naruto,” Iruka can’t stop his eyes filling up with tears as he pulls Naruto back in for another embrace. His pup was so selfless and caring, how did he get so lucky?

“It’s okay, dad, don’t cry,” Naruto rushes to reassure, but apparently it’s the wrong thing to say because the second Iruka hears Naruto say ‘dad’, the tears double.

“I love you so much, Naruto,” Iruka says tearfully. “More than anything else in this world, you know that?”

Naruto laughs tearfully.

“Me too, dad, I love you more than anything.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

Curse-breaker (Chapter 2/4)

- ao3 -

“If you can’t find him, that means it’s not meant to be,” the Nie sect leader said, and perhaps looked a little relieved somewhere beneath the grim scowl that had replaced the easygoing smile he had once had. “Let it be, then. Only…”

“Yes, Sect Leader?”

“I want our borders shut,” he said, his gaze distant, his hands tucked behind his back in stiffest formality. “Let no cultivator pass through; no scion or servant of any other sect, large or small.”

“Sect Leader…?”

“I don’t care what it does to our reputation,” he said, voice flat. “I don’t care if it hurts our commerce, makes everyone laugh at us as cowards – I don’t care about anything like that. That he’s well enough to evade us does not mean he is out of danger. If anyone else should find out…”

He shook his head.

“I have failed him enough already. I will not do so again.” He turned his head to stare at his subordinates. “Shut it down. All of it!”

They saluted, and went to enact his will.

-

Lan Wangji hadn’t been especially impressed with the Nie sect at first.

They were loud and constantly moving yet also guarded and standoffish, as if they couldn’t decide if they wanted people to pay attention to them or to leave them alone. He initially had thought it was arrogance the same way as the Jin sect, wanting to be looked at without wanting to admit it, but after some observation he’d realized that it really wasn’t like that at all. It was a little more, he thought, that they were naturally outgoing and extroverted, innately social in nature, and had to keep reminding themselves that they actually didn’t like any other people.

Certainly that was the impression the Nie sect heir gave off.

Nie Huaisang was Lan Wangji’s age, but he was much less accomplished – he talked a lot, smiled a lot, was a lot, and yet Lan Wangji didn’t think he’d ever actually said a single thing that really mattered. Lan Wangji hadn’t thought much about Nie Huaisang at all other than gritting his teeth and acting as his escort on the Nie sect’s first visit to another sect in years and years, thinking that if Nie Huaisang was any example, the Nie sect’s fearsome reputation for being as straight and unsubtle as their sabers was all a bunch of nonsense. Maybe he would have gone on thinking that, too, except that on the fourth day of their visit he discovered that Nie Huaisang listened as well as talked.

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang said at one point, smiling. “Could you repeat that?”

Lan Wangji hadn’t really been paying attention, and he certainly hadn’t been speaking – he looked at Nie Huaisang in askance, wondering if he’d accidentally said something he wasn’t aware of.

“Your father,” Nie Huaisang clarified, and Lan Wangji tensed. “How often is he in seclusion?”

Lan Wangji frowned, cautious – that was a secret, of course, one of the family secrets. Everything behind what happened with his parents was secret. “Quite often,” he temporized. “He’s trying to focus on his cultivation –”

“That wasn’t what I asked,” Nie Huaisang said, cheerfully cutting him off without making it seem like he was doing that. “My da-ge says that he heard from – from somewhere, anyway, that he wasn’t just in seclusion often but always. He says that your father hasn’t used his sword in years, leaving it to rust on the wall, betraying all his old principles of swordsmanship.”

Lan Wangji bristled, thinking that it was an insult, but Nie Huaisang was looking at him, face open and sincere and, for once, serious, and looking over his words Lan Wangji had to admit there was more truth to it than lies. And wasn’t his uncle always saying do not tell lies?

“It’s not his choice,” he said, trying to defend it even as he wondered who was the da-ge that Nie Huaisang was referring to, since he was supposed to be the only heir of Qinghe Nie. “He has to be there, because of –”

He stopped.

“Because of what?” Nie Huaisang asked. His eyes were too sharp, too knowing, and suddenly Lan Wangji was sure he already knew. “Because of the broken sword buried under his house?”

“…my mother’s,” Lan Wangji said, and knew that he had admitted too much.

Except maybe keeping secrets the way he was supposed to wasn’t actually what he was supposed to do, because Nie Huaisang nodded and said, “My da-ge wouldn’t like that.”

Then he went back to his father and said something about how his da-ge wouldn’t approve of what was going on and the next thing Lan Wangji knew, Sect Leader Nie was striding through the Cloud Recesses with a terrifying scowl, going straight up to the house where Lan Wangji’s father was in seclusion and tearing the door right off the hinges.

“She’s dead already,” he bellowed, voice echoing right down the bones. “You should save your care for the living, or else you’ll blink and next thing they’ll be gone. Gone right along with the dead you’ve already lost. Don’t you dare throw away your chance the way I did!”

After that, all of a sudden, Lan Wangji had a father again.

-

“There are rumors, you know,” Lan Xichen said.

He was having tea in the garden in the small teahouse just outside of the Nie sect lands in Qinghe, the place where the Nie sect usually received its visitors now that the Unclean Realm and most of its surrounding environs were shut off from the world by fiercely patrolling guards. He was with Nie Huaisang, who barely stopped talking, and Lan Wangji, who almost never started; ever since the day old Sect Leader Nie had forced Qingheng-jun out of seclusion and back into the world, they had been the most unlikely pair of best friends he could have ever imagined. Whenever they were together, they fit together like two improbable puzzle pieces that should never have been separated.

When he was with them, Lan Xichen always felt a little lost, a little alone – like there was someone else that should have been there, too, someone who fit with him just right the way they fit together.

Perhaps, he thought, reflecting on what he had heard, there really should have been.

“About what?” Nie Huaisang inquired politely.

“The Unclean Realm,” Lan Xichen said, even though that was obvious there’d be rumors about that – there’d been people trying to sneak into there ever since it had been locked down, even though the Nie sect had announced that they’d imposed orders permitting any trespassers to be killed on sight, no excuses allowed. It hadn’t made that much of a difference; everyone wanted to know what they were hiding. “The – inheritance thereof.”

“Oh?” Nie Huaisang fanned himself lightly. “How interesting. What do the rumors say?”

“That you have an older brother,” Lan Xichen said, and noted with interest that neither Nie Huaisang nor Lan Wangji seemed surprised. “That he’s the real heir of Qinghe Nie. And that he’s…”

“That he’s what?”

“Subject to a curse,” Lan Xichen said, feeling bashful for even saying such a thing. It sounded like a children’s story told in the nighttime, not like anything a cultivator ought to be speaking of.

Except Nie Huaisang smiled a little, his eyes curving into crescents in a grim sort of humor, and he said, “Well, they’re not wrong.”

-

“I trust that this is an illustration of the reason we have rules against spreading rumors,” Lan Qiren said mildly, and noted that Nie Huaisang looked thoroughly abashed for once.

It didn’t happen very often: Nie Huaisang was in many ways utterly shameless, as shameless as his father had always been. As shameless as his mother, who Lan Qiren had met only twice, had been when in search of a snack, and given that woman’s force of personality (and, for that matter, appetite), that was saying something.

“I wasn’t expecting them to start talking about breaking the curse,” Nie Huaisang said bitterly. “I didn’t mean a curse like – like a kid’s story, or something! I just meant, you know…”

The qi deviations, he did not say.

“It could be seen as a curse, if you look at it in the right light,” Lao Nie agreed. He didn’t seem especially perturbed by the fact that his son’s conversation with Lan Xichen had been overheard and then spread out everywhere, nor that the secret of his eldest son’s improbable survival was being gossiped about all over the cultivation world. “It’s quite a reasonable way to describe it, really.”

Lan Qiren shot his old friend a frown. “I trust you’ve heard the rest of it, too?” he asked tartly. “They’re saying that you’d let the entirety of the Qinghe Nie go to whoever succeeded in breaking the ‘curse’.”

“Who says I won’t?” Lao Nie asked, and Lan Qiren turned to him fully to stare: he couldn’t be serious.

Lao Nie caught his glance and shook his head, and in the light he didn’t look grim and angry, the way he always was these days; he looked tired, and sad, and broken. “Oh, I’m quite serious, my friend,” he said. “If someone could bring me back my son, I would give them my head off my shoulders in a heartbeat.”

He was speaking hypothetically, Lan Qiren knew, and yet – with a sinking sensation in his heart – he knew, too, that they weren’t sitting somewhere as secret as he would have liked for a conversation like this. He knew that others had probably heard what Lao Nie had said, and instead of understanding that he was expressing regret for what had happened to his son, they would think…

Well.

They’d think a lot of things.

“Think of your health, instead of your death,” Lan Qiren finally said, shaking his head. He’d been helping Lao Nie for years now, fighting a rearguard action against Lao Nie’s own inevitable qi deviation, trying to win enough time for Nie Huaisang to grow up old enough to take over properly, but it was getting harder each visit, the treatment less effective, the healing slower.

It would not be too long now.

“They’re the same thing,” Lao Nie said, shaking his head. “I should have lost my life years ago, instead of losing him his…it’s been so long, Qiren. Every day I wake up is a day I live for him, not for me – living the way he would want me to, doing what he’d approve of. It’s the least I could do. If someone could bring him back to me…someone, anyone, anyone at all…”

His gaze was distant, and sad. Terribly sad.

“What Qinghe Nie? What Unclean Realm? What inheritance?” he finally said.  “There’s nothing I wouldn’t give for that. Nothing at all.”

-

Wen Ruohan was the first.

For some reason, Lao Nie hadn’t been expecting that, though perhaps he should have – the reason he’d first started liking Wen Ruohan so much all those years ago was purely because of how shameless the man was, arrogant and careless of the world in the way only the truly dangerous could be. He’d liked that aspect of his back then, and when he wasn’t lying to himself, he knew he liked it still.

But this?

This was too far.

“How dare you?” he roared, and there was a red haze over his vision of the sort that he knew boded extremely ill for his long-term health. “My Unclean Realm is closed – do you think that you would be welcome? You, of all people?”

Wen Ruohan had forced his way right up to their gate, bringing with him a small retinue rather than the invasion force Lao Nie’s elders were always a little concerned about. As a result, he was now surrounded, surrounded and outnumbered, but he did not seem afraid.

Detestable man.

Lao Nie hated him now. He hated him as much as he’d once liked him.

He hated that he couldn’t hate him more.

“I’m here about the curse,” Wen Ruohan said, and Lao Nie stared at him, utterly speechless. “You did say ‘anyone at all’.”

“You want Qinghe Nie?” Lao Nie asked blankly, though of course he would – Wen Ruohan’s ambitions to take over the entire cultivation world were hardly secret. No, even if that was the first thing that came to his lips, Wen Ruohan’s blatant overreaching wasn’t actually what surprised him.

No, what surprised him was –

“You know it’s not a curse,” he said.

“I do,” Wen Ruohan said, and when he lifted his eyes to meet Lao Nie’s, Lao Nie was surprised to find them bloodshot. Not the familiar sort, the qi deviations of rage the way all Nie sect leaders went eventually, but rather a sort that was even more common than that.

Grief. Sorrow. Guilt.

Regret.

That last one was a word Lao Nie would previously have put money on Wen Ruohan not knowing.

“You said ‘anyone at all’,” Wen Ruohan said again, and it occurred to Lao Nie that that was the part that Wen Ruohan had quoted, the part he was stressing: not the inheritance, not There’s nothing I wouldn’t give, but just that. Anyone at all, Lao Nie had said, and he’d meant it, too. Anyone at all meant anyone.

Even Wen Ruohan.

“Since when do you care?” Lao Nie asked. “You were the one who did it.”

“I did it,” Wen Ruohan admitted. “I was angry at you. I’ve been angry at you for years. I thought I’d cleansed myself of all feeling before you dug the heart out of me, and yet you treated me lightly, giving me only as much of yourself as you wished. I thought that if I could only get rid of you, I could seal my heart up again and be none the worse for it.”

“You would’ve gone mad,” Lao Nie said, feeling irritable. “I told you time and time again, the path of clarity is a dead end. No man can live without feeling emotions. Sorrow may try to trick you into thinking it’s preferable, but in the end...”

Wen Ruohan smiled, humorless. “Sorrow can be very convincing. But that’s not what you asked – you wanted to know why I was here.”

Lao Nie crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, then?”

“You’re still here,” Wen Ruohan said. “My heart is not dead. And I – I nearly murdered a child.”

That brother of his, Lao Nie thought, and he understood.

But what good would his understanding do?

“I have to try to fix it,” Wen Ruohan said. No, not said – he was nearly begging. “Lao Nie, you said anyone. I did it, I acknowledge it. I was wrong. I regret. Let me have a chance to try to fix it.”

“There’s no fixing it,” Lao Nie said, and turned away. “You ran a fool’s errand, Hanhan. He’s not even here.”

[stray-kids-react]

Thier s/o being a vampire

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

° You were bitten seven years ago, later being forced to join a cult of vampires. The youngest of them all, and also the most sensitive and kind.

° You didn't want to live a vampire lifestyle, and wanted to just live normally. You honestly didn't even enjoy the taste of blood, even animal blood.

° Your master took your sensitivity to his advantages, granting you access to go back to school while they followed behind and bit new victims during their breaks.

° As they formed an army of vampires, you grew connections to new people. Including your desk mate Chan, who seemed to take an interest in you.

° As the university semester went along, you sadly grew attached to Chan. Regretting it since he isn't immortal and has no idea that you are, and your cult could hunt him.

° Just as you walked to class the next day to tell Chan the truth, you realized the seat next to yours was empty. Your heart sank, knowing Chan wouldn't miss a class ever.

° You ran back to the cult mansion, noticing Chan's unconscious body being dragged into the building. Not hesitating, you ran up to your master and grabbed Chan from him.

"I WON'T LET YOU HURT HIM!"

"... Has y/n grown attached? To this... Mortal?" he laughed lowly.

° You dashed into the forest with Chan in your arms, cold tears running down your cheeks. Feeling immense guilt for involving Chan in this, it was your fault.

"Y-y/n?...." He groaned, a raspy voice as he just woke up.

"You're okay, oh thank heavens." You sighed, smiling sweetly. Not realizing your fangs were in plain sight.

° You only caught on that your fangs were showing by his widened eyes, soon covering your mouth in terror. But he didn't seem scared, just...surprised.

° He sat up in your lap, wiping your tear stained cheeks. Chan rested his head against yours as he smiled gently, before interlocking his lips with yours.

"You're not creeped out?"

"No, if you wanted to bite me you would've done it by now." He reassured, booping your nose.

Lee Know

° You and Minho were the newest members of your opposing cults, neither of you ever met. All that was shown was a photo of him to you, telling you to hunt him down.

° When you walked through those university doors, you had no idea that he was on the same mission but to find you instead. You thought he was just a normal human.

° He say next to you in every class you had together, listening to your responses to questions and noting your small habits. As you tried to do the same for him.

° It only took the next day for you to finally say a word to each other, noticing how attractive he truly was. Especially when he showed off his bright smile.

° It was his job to attract you to him, but you seemed different from the other three people he's had to this on. Minho actually felt a connection towards you.

° Minho didn't want to grow attached to you, but he had. So he decided to bite you instead of killing you, that way he couldn't lose you or let someone else kill you.

° But as his fangs protruded and he moved your tshirt down on your sleeping form. Minho noticed two scar marks from another vampire bite, you were already a vampire.

"Shit..." He sighed, realizing the situation he was in.

"Minho? Stop hogging the blankets." You whined, pulling the blankets back.

° Minho stayed silent, staring at the ceiling. Knowing he can't kill you, so he'd have to fake your death or his. He just couldn't betray you like that, you're too nice.

"You should've told me you were like me y/n." He replied, glancing towards your widened eyes.

"... You're the one who was suppose to hunt weren't you?" You asked, knowing the answer isn't a pleasant one.

° He nodded cautiously, flopping back down next to you. Wrapping his arms around your waist as you snuggled into him, his cold touch comforting you completely.

° The silence ate at both of your thoughts, both wondering what to do. Neither one of you cared about why your masters hated each other, instead how to escape.

"Let's runaway together." He suggested, burrowing his face into my neck.

"I'll follow wherever you take me." I replied, hoping our plan to runaway succeeds.

Changbin

° When you went into your vampire form, you almost completely blacked out. Only waking up to the dead body you murdered right next to you, terrifying you immensely.

° Your boyfriend Changbin was curious about the recent murder mysteries, wondering how they haven't found the culprit yet or even any suspects.

° You luckily caught on when you would turn into your form, it was when you ran low on animal blood to satisfy you. And it happened at midnight everytime.

° You kept your blood bags in your basement, locked away in the cooler. If your boyfriend found the bags of blood, you didn't even want to picture his reactions to it.

° But when you went grocery shopping, he visited thinking you'd be home. He made himself comfortable due to the many times he's been to your house.

° The usually closed basement door was opened just a crack, the unknown darkness peeking his interest. Even if he felt his own anxiety fill his brain when he got closer.

° When you go home, you noticed the basement light on. Realizing Changbin must've been visited, and is now in the basement you don't want him to see.

"Y/n... Are you. Are you the killer?" He asked cautiously, gulping loudly.

"Sort of... But I can't control it. I-I'm a vampire and black out when it happens." You sigh, knowing he won't believe you.

° Changbin turned around slowly, holding you close as you began to break down in front of him. He knew you wouldn't do this, so he had to believe you.

"I believe you y/n." He reassured, kissing your head.

"Thank you. You are truly an angel." You whimpered, regaining composure.

° Changbin felt bad for seeing how scared you were of yourself, not being able for your worst fear to be yourself. All he could was supply you with blood and comfort you.

° If it were anyone else to discover your secret, you'd be in prison or dead. But Changbin knew who you were deep down and loved you for who you were.

"I'll help you hide the bodies." He reassured, wiping your tears.

"I love you Binnie." You replied, kissing his knuckles.

Hyunjin

° Hyunjin was bitten years ago, but refused to go near any human. He only used his inhuman abilities to protect you from other vampires who craved your untouched blood.

° You were one of the only humans left in town, most being unnatural creatures from nightmares in disguise. But Hyunjin always made sure Non of them effected you.

° The only people he trusted you with were his best friends, Han, Seungmin, and Felix. But they seemed to be weaker when it comes to the temptation of blood.

° So during a game night at their apartment, Felix followed you into the kitchen. You didn't think much of it since he was your best friend who you trusted quite a bit.

° But the sharp sting of two fangs sinking into your flesh froze your body from fear alone, Hyunjin was the one suppose to be the to bite you. Not Felix.

° You tried to keep the secret from Hyunjin, knowing he'd feel an overwhelming amount of guilt for not being there. Plus you felt guilty for not being more cautious.

° After you and Hyunjin would marry, he would bite you. It was a plan that both of you were excited for, but now you just ruined that important moment for the both of you.

"Y/n... Felix told me what he did." Hyunjin commented, leaning on the door frame.

"I'm so sorry Hyunjin, is should've been more careful." You sighed, guilt building up.

° Hyunjin walked up behind you, resting his chin on top of your head. He swayed you both back and forth, comforting all the sadness and guilt away.

"He apologized over 100 times." He chuckled softly, rubbing your knuckles.

"I think will 1000 times." You replied, leaning into his body.

° Hyunjin didn't hold a grudge against either of you, relieved Felix wasn't so effected by temptation that he killed you. But it still hurt him a bit, wishing he could've been the one.

° You let him bite the marks Felix made, making it his own. Even if it hurt more, you felt more relieved and comfortable with Hyunjin's bite. Feeling at home with him.

"Now you're mine. Forever." He teased, kissing the bleeding marks.

"Just like I've always wanted." You replied, cupping his face.

Han

° You were a killer vampire who didn't really care about your victims ever, only focusing on making sure you got your blood and no one would try to stop you.

° That is until you fell into someone's trap, being trapped in a net as the man revealed himself from the shadows. That prey that you tried to get, was simply a dummy.

° He trapped you in a jail like cell, feeding you nice meals along with dessert. Even going as far to get animal blood for drinks to go along with the meals.

° He couldn't let someone as dangerous as you go back into society, but he didn't want to be rude or anger you either. So it usually consisted of awkward encounters.

° As days went by, you went over all of the things you achieved in life. Realizing you hadn't even lived your life to the full potential it could be with your abilities.

° As your heart grew larger and your mind opened up to humans, you became attached to the man who caught you. It was more like a chance back to reality then a jail.

° He seemed to care about your comfort and safety, as if he knew that there was still a person inside of you. He didn't intend to hurt you, more healing you instead.

"How are you feeling today doll?" He asked, bringing the dinner you requested for.

"Thank you mortal." You huffed, looking sincere for once.

° The smile that embraced his features caused a flutter to your heart, you now know that this one human was impacting you more than the temptation of blood.

"Why did you treat me so well?" You asked, stuffing your cheeks with a bread bun.

"Everyone has a heart with feelings at the end of the day, you are no different." He explained, brushing the hair from your eyes.

° Han let you make yourself at home, even letting you cuddle with him in his bed. You never felt such a joyful feeling when he laughs at one of your lame jokes.

° You were free to go and live your vampire lifestyle once again, but you enjoyed his company far too much to leave. You fell for him hard, and felt happy about it.

"I think I fell for you Han Jisung." You admitted, avoiding his gaze.

"I'm glad I am not the only one who fell for someone." He replied, placing a kiss on your nose.

Felix

° You worked at the movie theatre with a whole bunch of girls who hated you for no reason, and guys who called you weird for not showing skin like the other girls.

° It was hard to act like nothing was wrong when you fight the urge to suck the blood from anyone pissed you off, and to gain confidence in the new form you hate.

° The only person you could rely on was your close co worker Felix, he made it his mission to stick up for you and make your days just a bit brighter than usual.

° Felix liked your quirky habits and differences from other people, he had a crush on you since you first started to work the same shifts as him.

° When your cravings were becoming insane, elf like ears would appear and your energy would decrease immensely. You usually blacked out during those times.

° Felix noticed your unconscious body next to your car, immediately rushing over in a panicked manner. He didn't even question your ears, he just need you to wake up.

° He heard your small unconscious murmurs about blood, licking your lips dryly everytime. Felix had suspicions that you drank blood, due to a lunchbox mix up.

"Oh thank God you're awake." He sighed, crawling off of you.

"I can't remember how I got here, but thank you. How'd you wake me?" You asked, noticing the cut on his palm.

° Felix revealed the lunch box mix up that happened earlier that day, explaining that he cut his palm and dripped some blood into your mouth assuming you had cravings.

"Do you think I'm creepy now?" You asked, leaning against your car door.

"Not really to be honest, you're still y/n. And I like you for who you are." He answered, running a hand through his hair.

° Felix suggested to drive you home since you still seemed a bit dizzy, holding you until you reached the bedroom safely. You flopped onto the bed, sighing comfortably.

° He was about to leave when you gripped his wrist, leaving a small kiss onto his cut palm. Insisting he stayed with you for the night, knowing he must be tired from the day.

"I have a spare mattress if you don't feel comfortable sharing." You reassured, grabbing your pajamas.

"I think I'll like sharing with you." He whispered, leaning onto you as he hugged you softly.

Seungmin

° You were bitten a week ago while going for a walk, you couldn't catch a glimpse at who had bit you. But you were more worried on how you would explain this to Seungmin.

° You were becoming weak, boney, palmy, and tired. All because you would be in the sun for too long, Seungmin noticed this and was scared that something was very wrong.

° He took you to the doctor, but nothing was apparently wrong even if you looked like death. Seungmin's mind raced with possibilities, not wanting to lose you.

° It was only til you fell asleep on the drive home that he noticed the bite marks, his heart sinking realizing what had happened. He bit you while in his vampire form.

° It wasn't common for him to not remember anything after a form switch, unless he was desperate for blood. Seungmin felt terrible for putting this illness upon you.

° It would take one more week of suffering until your body got use to the bite. And he would have to deal with the guilt all throughout those seven days.

° It didn't take a mind reader to realize Seungmin was feeling upset, and you could even tell while still feeling terrible. You assumed he must be apart of your bite.

"Be honest baby, did you bite me?" You asked in a gentle tone.

"I'm so sorry y/n. I feel terrible." He whimpered, nearly tearing up.

° Your limp arms wrapped around his figure, comforting him during those harsh thoughts that must've raced in his mind. You weren't mad with him, and never could be.

"It's okay Seungmin, I'm not mad." You reassured, kissing his shoulder.

"I would be if I were you." He sighed, glancing at your tired eyes.

° His guilt began to clear up as you became healthier again, helping you as much as he could with anything you needed. Even if ti were just simple cuddle sessions.

° When the week passed and your body fused with your new form, he never felt such excitement when you flew around the room squealing in pure joy.

"Baby I'm flying!" you squealed.

"I know baby, you're doing great." He replied, falling deeper in love.

Jeongin

° Jeongin saw you get murdered with his very own eyes, yet there you were sitting on top of your grave stone as he mourned your death. He couldn't believe his eyes.

° He was convinced that he was just going crazy and you were a hallucination to torment him. But all of your touches towards him felt so real, just like when you were alive.

° You had to physically push him to the ground for him to believe you were back from the dead, and wake him up when he passed out from shock alone.

° He couldn't tell anyone that you were alive and kicking, knowing they'd hunt for you or think he's going insane. So he kept it to himself and met you in private.

° Jeongin noticed two bite marks on the side of your neck when he pecked across it lightly, he assumed that you were either bitten or cursed back to life.

° Your confession to being a vampire wasn't surprising to him, the whole scenario seeming so unrealistic. But he was so happy to have you back, that he didn't care one bit.

° Jeongin would let you bite him in an instant, never wanting to lose you again. You are his everything and seeing your lifeless body was too much for him to experience.

"I hope you don't mind keeping me secret." You commented, holding his hand.

"No, I understand why you'd want to stay secret." He replied, pulling you closer to his body.

° As months went by, the craving to be bitten by you crossed his mind more and more often. Jeongin was ready and wanted to be with you forever.

"Can you please bite me?" he asked gently, leaving his neck back for your fangs.

"Are you sure, this isn't exactly something you can take back Jeongin." You explained, holding his face in your hands.

° Jeongin kissed your lips softly and slowly, pulling your hands down from his face. Soon nodding sincerely as he leaned back once more, preparing for the slight sting.

° The sting wasn't as terrible as he assumed it to be, maybe you just went gentle on him. Either way the excitement of becoming like you overpowered the sting in his neck.

"There, now you're like me!" you chuckled, clapping happily.

"Nothing could beat this moment." He replied, kissing your lips once more.

[pastel-odette]

Revenge- A Banana Fish Fanfiction

This is a fic written for @emi-joanna. Sorry it took so long, I started work and college this past month. I hope it's as angsty as you requested!

(tws are properly tagged as tw _____)

“Eiji! Hurry up! We’re gonna be late!”

Eiji came rushing out of the house, locking up before making his way to the car. “What took you so long?” Aslan asked. Eiji opened up his satchel to reveal various snacks and sweets. “I had to grab the essentials,” he said with a smile. Aslan chuckled. “You really think we’re gonna need them?” “Yes!! During last year’s shrine visit you whined and whined about being hungry, so this time I thought I’d come prepared.” “How do you even remember that?” “Magic, my love. Now enough questions! Let’s go already!” It had been seven years since the couple had moved to Izumo. The first year had been the toughest. Despite being months out of the hospital, Aslan had still been reeling from the attack from Lao. The realization that even after Dino was dead, even after he thought he was finally free, someone still wanted to kill him had hit him extremely hard. He had felt foolish for thinking he would ever be anything other than what Dino made him. To hunt and be hunted, was that really all there was left for him? He had almost wished he hadn’t survived. He didn’t even understand why he survived in the first place.

The decision to move to Japan with Eiji did not come easy. Almost every part of him was screaming at him to abandon that hope that he could ever have a normal life. The physical distance made it seem more unattainable, too. However, Eiji was persistent. He would text every day, and call as much as he could. He was determined to make sure Aslan saw their original plan to move to Japan through.

Eventually, Aslan caved in. He said goodbye to New York, and started a new life with his soulmate. It wasn’t until he laid in bed that night, Eiji sleeping peacefully next to him, that what he did hit him all at once. An entirely new country with nothing to protect himself with.

For a while, they stayed at the Okumura family house. Eiji’s father was still in the hospital as he learned, so it was just the two of them, Eiji’s mother, and his sister. He felt surprisingly welcomed, like he was truly part of the family. It was strange to him to meet people so truly kind and hospitable upon first meeting. It wasn’t long until it started to feel like home.

But it still didn’t feel safe. He would lay awake at night, Eiji beside him, terrified of every little noise he heard. On the rare occasions where he did sleep, he would have terrible nightmares, and when he would jolt awake he would reach for a gun that wasn’t there.

The Okumuras noticed how fidgety and cautious he was. So, they installed a security system in their house. They did everything, big and small, to help him adjust to this new life. When Aslan and Eiji moved out into their own house, they took a lot of these things with them. The security system, the protective charms, the little statues of gods that could protect them. It stunned Aslan how… good he felt to be living this life.

Izumo is where Aslan had found peace and happiness. “We’re here,” Aslan said.

They made their way through the rows of trees together, surrounded by other people also dressed for the chilly weather. Some wore their traditional kimonos, some wore more casual winter clothes. As they approached the torii gates they saw a familiar person standing there. “Mari!” Eiji shouted as he waved to his sister. She waved back as she walked up and gave them both a tight hug. “How are your studies going?” Aslan asked with a soft smile. “Well, just as tough as last year. But I’m glad to finally be visiting again!” She beamed.

When Aslan moved to Japan, Mari was right there alongside Eiji to greet him. She was thrilled to meet him, and sympathetic when she realized Aslan had lived a much different life than her and her brother. It wasn’t long until she felt like his own sister. When she moved to Tokyo for college, he nearly cried with how proud he was.

“You’re not wearing mom’s kimono this year,” Eiji pointed out.

Usually, Mari would wear a deep blue kimono with a stunningly complex design depicting a soaring phoenix and a gold-colored obi. It was passed down through many generations until it was owned by their mother, and now her. Now she was wearing a pale yellow kimono with a much simpler chrysanthemum pattern and pink obi with a chrysanthemum obidome to match. Mari gave a sad smile. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I just didn’t want something so… connected to her anymore. So my friends took me shopping and I found this. Don’t worry though, I didn’t throw away the other one or anything. It’s still in my closet.” “I think it looks good. Suits you,” said Aslan. Eiji nodded his head. This time, Mari beamed.

Being the very first day of the New Year, the temple was crowded with all sorts of people. The chozuya was completely packed, and it took them a few minutes before they were able to purify their hands. Ash always wondered if his hands could ever be truly pure, but he tried not to think about that as he poured the water. It was supposed to be a day of celebration and good luck. He didn’t want his thoughts to ruin that.

Every year, Aslan wished to the gods for protection. Protection from violence, from grief, from assault, from everything that made his life miserable for so long. This year was no different. However, there was something else this year he needed extra luck for. He prayed for that too.

Next, they went to exchange their omamori. Aslan chose the protection charm, as he did every year, and Mari chose the education charm. Usually, Eiji would get the protection charm just as Aslan did. This time he chose the success charm. “What goal do you want to be successful?” Mari asked.

“This year, I’m determined to have my own photo gallery.” It was a goal he had for a while, but this year he was going to have the luck of the gods on his side.

Finally, they needed to pull their o-mikuji.

“I’m a little nervous,” Mari jokes. Most of the time she had negative fortunes. However, this year, she would apparently have a future blessing (and small luck in her romantic relationships). Aslan was given half-blessing with lots of luck in travel. Then it was Eiji’s turn.

“Curse…”

“Well, it could be worse,” Aslan said, “at least you’re not super-mega-cursed.”

Eiji just sighed and folded up the paper.

“You’re not gonna read the rest of it?” “Nah. Not really a point.”

As they left the shrine, Eiji trailed behind and sulked.

Aslan gave Mari a nudge.

“You talk to him, you're the psychology major. I’m no good at this stuff.”

Mari nodded and went to walk beside Eiji.

“Listen, if it’s just a regular curse, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. It’s mostly just little everyday inconveniences. The worst I’ve experienced with just a regular curse is that really bad breakup I had with Yui.” “With who??” “Hush, Aslan, this isn’t about you. Anyways, I don’t think you have anything to really worry about.”

When they get to the parking lot, they have to part ways. Mari made plans to go visit some of her old friends, and Aslan and Eiji had to return home, as they were going to host dinner that night.

When Aslan and Eiji arrived home, they were greeted by a very excitable golden retriever. They had gotten him about a year ago, when he was just a year old, from a local shelter. Even then, he still acted a little bit like a puppy.

“Hey, Bud,” Aslan said as he knelt down to pet Buddy. The dog jumped up to lick his face.

“Should we start dinner now?” Eiji asked as he put down his stuff and made his way to the kitchen.

“You can. Might as well. Just in case someone comes early or something.”

“You can’t just spend all afternoon petting Buddy, you know.” “I know, I know! I’ll help you in a minute.”

Buddy didn’t seem to mind all the extra attention he was getting, though. But eventually, Aslan had to go help his partner.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” asked Aslan as he put on his apron. He didn’t always help in the kitchen, his skill level was limited to basic survival foods, but over the years he got better and better at it. It felt very domestic, to cook alongside someone.

“How about you start on the datemaki? I’ll make the ramen.”

Aslan nodded, and they both started getting their ingredients. The kitchen was large enough that they could work around each other comfortably, and it wasn’t long until the kitchen started to smell delicious. Buddy noticed this, and trotted over to beg for treats.

“I have nothing for you,” Aslan said. Still, Buddy sat beside him, wagging his tail and giving him an expectant look. Aslan tried to ignore him as he started to whine, focusing on mixing the ingredients together.

“Here, Buddy!” Eiji called the dog, waving a large bone. Buddy instantly jumped up and ran over, wagging his tail furiously. Eiji then gave him the bone, which Buddy took to the living room happily.

“There we go, that’ll keep him occupied,” Eiji smiled. Aslan couldn’t help but smile back.

They continued cooking nonstop into the evening. As time went on, the more dishes they completed, and the more it started to look like a full meal. However, they were still pretty far from done.

Aslan sighed as he stretched. There was enough time to just take a tiny little break, he thought. He leaned against the counter and looked over at Eiji. His partner seemed distracted by something as he stared off into space.

“Hey.”

“Ah!” Eiji jumped, fumbling the bag of flour he was holding before dropping it on the counter.

“Ohhh no!” he exclaimed. Aslan chuckled slightly before helping his partner clean up the mess.

“Looks like your bad luck has officially begun.”

“Don’t even joke about that!” Eiji said as he smacked the other with a floured towel. Ash looked down at his arm then back up at Eiji with a smile.

“Really? You wanna start this?” He dipped his thumb in the flour before smudging it across Eiji’s cheek.

“You’re on!”

And that’s how it started, a full-blown flour war.

Nothing was spared. Flour was thrown, smudged, and flew everywhere. The counters, the floor, their clothes, their skin, their hair and skin, all of it was covered in at least a thin layer of flour.

It was stupid, it was childish, they had wasted an entire bag just making everything dirty. But they didn’t care. It was fun. They were having fun and messing around together. At that moment, they weren’t thinking about having to clean up and get back to cooking, they just thought about each other.

The couple just laid on the floor together as Buddy sniffed around them before licking Aslan in the face.

“No, Buddy!” Aslan squealed, pushing Buddy’s face away. The dog just wagged his tail as his owners helped each other up.

“You’re a mess,” Eiji laughed.

“Speak for yourself! You’re even dirtier than me! Go take a shower, I’ll clean this all up.”

Eiji kissed Aslan’s floured cheek before going to wash himself and his clothes.

Once everything was all clean, both of them included, they had to work faster in order to get everything done by the time their guests would arrive. Occasionally, though, they would look over at each other, and laugh silently before getting back to work.

Eventually, they had a complete New Year’s Day dinner. Eiji set the table while Aslan arranged the food into the boxes.

“Well, I’d say it looks pretty good,” Aslan said.

“We make a pretty good team!” Eiji shouted from the dining room.

When everything was all set for their guests to arrive, they high-fived to celebrate their hard work. It was the first time they cooked for New Year’s all on their own, and it was the first time they would be hosting.

The first to arrive were Ibe and his wife, Namiko. They met shortly after he returned to Japan, and she was a very kind woman, the kind that got along with all her neighbors and would check in on them from time to time. The couple greeted their hosts warmly with hugs and a bottle of sake.

Buddy was thrilled to have guests, and quickly ran over to receive pets from two of his many favorite humans.

It wasn’t much longer after that when Mari arrived, and the party officially started. Chatter filled the house as they ate. They talked about everything that had happened during the past year, everything they accomplished, and everything they hoped to accomplish this year.

“Well, I have no complaints,” Ibe said, “We traveled a lot this year for work.”

“It was great! So many fun new places we visited,” Namiko said.

“Mine was just another normal year of classes. I made a new group of friends, and they’re really great," Mari said through a mouthful of food.

“We adopted our dog,” Eiji beamed. Buddy was resting in the living room. After a while of whining for food, he had finally given up, and they knew if they mentioned him by name he would come over and start begging again.

The party went on late into the night as they continued to chat and drink. Everyone’s spirits couldn’t be higher as they celebrated the past and welcomed in the future, giving a toast for good luck. Eventually, though, the night had to end. They said their goodbyes to each other, and the guests went home, leaving Aslan and Eiji to clean up.

Aslan felt content as he washed the dishes. It was a great night, surrounded by people he loved. Seven years in Japan. He hadn’t felt like Ash Lynx in so long. He felt like he had control over his life.

A partner, a house, a dog, a legal job, friends, a little sister. The old ladies on his street fawned over him as if he was free from sin. The local coffee shop knew his face and order by heart. Nobody feared him, they were all friendly towards him, and treated him as if he really was normal.

Oftentimes it felt unreal. But as he sat on the couch, Eiji nestled into his side, he knew it was.

“Thank you,” Eiji murmured.

“For what?”

“For helping out today. For everything you do. You’re so good to me.”

Aslan smiled softly.

“I should be the one saying that to you.”

“How about we’re both good to each other?”

“Yeah,” Aslan whispered, “I can agree with that.”

The next few days of the New Year were spent with Mari. The plan was for her to go back to Tokyo on the fourth, when the holiday was over, so they wanted as much time with her as they could.

During the Japanese New Year, businesses are closed for the next three days. They couldn't go to restaurants, shops, or the market. So mostly, they just spent time at Aslan and Eiji’s house. Watching TV, playing board games, and video games on the SNES they got a few years back. They could also go to the beach.

Izumo was a coastal town, with cliff sides to the north, and a long, thin strip of beach to the west. When the three of them stepped out of the car, they were glad they brought thick coats, as there was a cold breeze.

“Come on Buddy!” Eiji said as he opened the car door. The dog jumped out of the car, wagging his tail happily.

The beach was an important place in Izumo, something Aslan had learned shortly after he moved. On the northern shore of the beach, there was a very large rock with a small shrine on top, too high for humans to reach. Every October, the gods would come to Izumo, and convene at the beach and its shrine.

Aside from it being a spiritual place, the beach was also just beautiful. It reminded Aslan of when he was younger, when he and Griffin would run across the sand and splash in the waves. Sometimes, when he and Eiji would take a walk along the beach, they would see children or a family, and he would feel a bit of nostalgia.

Now, he walked this beach with his new family.

It was late in the afternoon, and the sun was low in the sky. They were only planning for it to be a relatively short walk, and would return to the car not long after the sun fully set. It was just nice to get some fresh air.

The trio walked in silence, aside from Buddy’s pants, until Aslan broke it.

“You know, Mari, you got a pretty interesting fortune this year,” he said.

Eiji caught on to what he meant. “Yeah! Are you excited for it?”

“For the future fortune? I guess so. It’s better than I get most years,” she said.

“No no, I mean about your romance fortune,” Aslan smiled.

Mari became slightly flustered, glaring at the couple. They just laughed in response.

“You should really get back out there again,” Eiji teased, “You’re not still heartbroken over Yui are you?”

Mari lightly punched her brother in the side.

“Of course not! That was the beginning of high school! Butt out of my love life!”

“But you, dear sister, are the one that butted into my love life when I went to America.”

“I shall have you know, dear brother, that I have matured since then. Besides, the charm I gave you worked, didn’t it?”

Eiji looked over at Aslan with a smile and squeezed his hand.

“Yeah. It did.”

The sun had begun to set at this point, halfway across the horizon. It was a beautiful sight, soft pinks and reds across the sky. The three stopped to admire it, Buddy sitting beside them.

“I think this is a moment worth capturing,” Eiji said. He got the polaroid camera from around his neck. They all posed close together, Aslan picking up Buddy so he could be in the shot, with the sunset in the background.

“Smile!”

Click.

The photo printed slowly, and Eiji shook it so it could develop faster.

It showed the four of them, happy in smiling, in the place they loved so much. They waited for the sun to set fully before returning home.

Instantly, the photo went up on their wall.

Unfortunately, the fourth eventually came, and Mari had to leave. At the train station, they said their goodbyes.

“Be sure to write!” Eiji said as she waved.

“I always do!”

With that, the train doors closed, and she left Izumo. Since it was the first day of the new year that businesses were open, Aslan decided he might as well go run some errands.

“See you at home,” he said as he pecked Eiji on the cheek.

“Mhm, see you.” Eiji waved goodbye to him.

The first stop was the coffee shop. Why not, right? It was a very cozy little shop and the majority of the patrons were locals and regulars. When the barista noticed him, he smiled.

“The usual?”

Aslan nodded, and the barista got to work. The coffee shop was relatively small compared to those in America, and it was warmly lit. As Aslan sat at the counter watching the barista he felt the chill of the mid-winter weather.

“Here’s your coffee,” the barista said as he placed the mug in front of Aslan. Most people see Aslan as the type of person to drink straight black coffee. And for a while, he was. As soon as he was “old enough” to drink coffee, he would drink it without sugar or creamer. It fit the persona he had and made him seem more mature to those around him. Now he didn’t care about any of that. He made his coffee super sweet. Tons of sugar, tons of creamer, because that was the way he actually liked it.

Usually, he would take the time to stay and chat with the barista for a bit. He was a funny and friendly guy, most of the reason Aslan liked this coffee shop in particular. However, today he had the odd urge to get home as much as possible. Maybe it was just because of the chill, he thought.

The next stop was the grocery store. They only really needed things to replace what they had used to cook dinner on New Years, including the flour that they had wasted.

He absentmindedly went through the small store until a voice called out to him from behind.

“My dear Aslan!”

He turned around to see his neighbor, Mrs. Tanaka. She was an old woman, kind as can be like almost everyone else in the neighborhood, who loved to garden in her front lawn and chat him up whenever she saw him. Aslan greeted her back and smiled.

“How have you been? How’s Eiji? Did you have a good new year?”

“Everything is good. How was your trip?”

The two chatted for a bit, catching up on things that happened since the last time they talked. Most of his neighbors he could strike up a conversation with just like this. It was the kind of neighborhood he could see himself and Eiji growing old in. It was a weird thought, to grow old with someone in a small town, but it was right.

They said their goodbyes, and Aslan continued shopping as normal.

When Aslan came home, the front door was unlocked. Huh. Maybe Eiji just forgot. However, when he opened the door, he was met with a horrible sight.

There lay Buddy, unmoving, in a pool of blood.

Aslan dropped his bags and rushed to his dear pet. He picked him up gently as tears began to fall.

How did this even happen? When? Why wasn’t he here to stop it?

That’s when he saw it. The wound on Buddy’s neck. A bullet wound. Someone… shot Buddy. There was no way. He was supposed to be safe in Japan. He was supposed to be safe with Eiji. Eiji... “Eiji!” he shouted. No response. He shouted again. The house was silent. Aslan gently placed down Buddy’s body. He had to make sure Eiji was okay. Eiji had to be okay, right?

Aslan crept through the house silently, listening for any sounds that might lead him towards Eiji or the intruder. As he approached the kitchen, he saw a pot on the stove bubbling over, so he turned off the stove. This whole thing must have happened fairly recently. A knife was also missing from the drawer.

Finally, he made his way to the bedroom.

What he saw terrified him.

Eiji. Sprawled across the floor, next to the open closet doors as if he had been pulled out, a knife in his hand. A bullet in his forehead. His eyes were wide open, and his cheeks were stained with tears.

Ash fell to his knees. This couldn’t be happening. Eiji couldn’t be dead. He was dreaming, he was hallucinating, this was some kind of joke. What separated him from his old life now? What stopped him from being Ash Lynx again?

Ash sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. His love had been murdered. The bastard shot his dog, too. Why? He didn’t do anything. Neither of them did anything. It wasn’t fair.

He reached into the closet and pulled out a small box. Inside was a silver engagement ring. He picked up Eiji’s greying, cold hand and slipped the ring onto his finger.

“I know that we could never get married legally. But I still wanted to think of you as my husband. After all we had been through, didn’t we deserve that much?”

Eiji didn’t respond. His glossed-over eyes stared at nothing. Ash closed them.

“My soul will always be with you.”

--------

This might turn into a chaptered fic

Thank you to @syanara for betaing!

Tag list: @mycatshuman

[erosofthepen]

Gimlelul

Haha, i have a habit of disappearing because i want to finish a story but feel bad about coming back when it’s not finished. This is something I had an idea for at work, i hope you all enjoy it. It’s kinda dumb but cute too i guess.

Pairing: Kili x Reader

Words: 1700 (an exact number!??)

Warnings: None. Unless cheesy Kili is a warning.

The journey, however repetitive and boring it could be, did offer some enjoyment for you. Most of this enjoyment sourced from the young Prince Kili.

In the three months since the journey had begun, you and the Prince had developed a habit of stargazing each night, just after dinner, but before first watch. It never failed to brighten even the most dull of times. You would both make up new patterns and constellations in the sky, and your favorite so far was ‘Thorin’s Stompy Boot’, which had a base in the Lyre and built into… well the name is pretty self explanatory.

However, the dullness of the journey vanished in the span of one night, and it was rather difficult to fit in the time to stargaze. Between the three trolls who almost ate the whole company, the strange brown wizard who appeared to be on an overconsumption of… magic mushrooms, the incredibly tiring and terrifying chase by wargs and orcs, and arriving in the valley of the elves, it had been next to impossible to spend time with Kili to look at the stars.

Today was the third night in Rivendell, and while you thought it to be the most peaceful and safe place in all of Middle Earth, Thorin thought otherwise, and warned against falling into a state of security. On this particular night, Balin, Bilbo, Gandalf, and the King himself had gone off somewhere, and Thorin had left strict orders for the company to stick together and not stray away. These orders, of course, were ignored.

Bombur had left for the kitchens quite some time ago, ‘for provisions’, and it did not appear that he would be back anytime soon. Ori (with the help of Nori), had snuck off into one of the elven libraries, and you expected him to be there for quite some time. Bifur had left almost the second after Thorin, and there was no sign of him anywhere. Not that you were worried. Fili and Kili had disappeared as well, and there wasn’t a clue of where they had gone off too. Dwalin, ever the loyal warrior, stood watch over camp, on the lookout for spying elves.

You were by the fire, fiddling with the straps on your boot. The blasted buckle kept coming loose, and you were determined to fix it before departing from this beautiful valley. Unfortunately, several grueling minutes later, you had sighed and resolved to ask Bifur for help when he returned from wherever he was.

“Having trouble, my lady?” You looked up to see that Fili and Kili had returned, and the younger of the two had apparently been watching you fight a losing battle with your boot straps.

“Aye, my prince. But I reckon Bifur can aid me when he returns.”

“And why Bifur?” He asked, “Am I not handy enough to aid you in your time of need?”

“Ha. I think not, as you struggle with even buckling your own boots in the morning.”

Kili laughed and came to sit down beside you, taking the boot from your hand and eyeing the trouble.

“You know,” He said, “all you have to do is straighten out the metal here, and it would be fine. Also might be a good idea to get the rust gone.”

“I know that much,” You replied, reaching for your boot back. But Kili pulled away, now grasping the buckle in his hand.

“I could fix it now, if you’d like.” he offered, eyes still glued to the boot strap.

“It’s alright Kili--”

But the prince had already started working the metal with his bare hands, twisting the iron back into place by dwarven strength alone. Once he was satisfied, he fiddled with it, making sure it worked properly.

“There you go (Y/N), should be good as new, except the rust. We’ll get that cleaned up on the ‘morrow.” He said, handing you back your boot.

“Thanks, I owe you.”

“Nonsense, it was nothing,” he replied, “But how about we take it for a test walk? Just to make sure it’s back to normal?” without waiting for a reply, he stood and offered his hand. You grinned and quickly got your boots on before taking his hand and getting up.

“Oi, where are you two going?” Dwalin called.

“Not far, we’ll be back shortly!” Kili said, quickly grasping your hand and hurrying along before Dwalin could object.

The two of you walked for quite some time, much farther than Dwalin would approve of, but it was nice to finally spend some time with Kili. You talked of the chaotic ventures of the past few days, and Kili joked that it had been the only exciting thing to happen so far.

“I mean, we’re going to a mountain with a dragon. You’d think there would be more of a thrill, wouldn’t you?

“You speak too much Kili. Getting shoved into sacks by trolls was enough excitement to last a lifetime. The orc pack was just terrifying. I’m perfectly content with the journey to continue on as normal from here on out, without any more surprises happening.”

“Oh, come now (Y/N), where’s the fun in that? As I recall, you were saying that the routine of the journey was incredibly boring just last week.”

“That was before the trolls, Kili. And you best be cautious, a dragon, however far off, is not something to treat as a mere adventure. It’s going to be very dangerous.”

Kili sighed and reluctantly nodded.

“I know, but still--” The young prince stopped quite suddenly and looked around.

“Kili?” you asked.

“There’s a place Fili and I found, I’m just trying to remember if we already passed it or not…” He looked around again, before backtracking a few steps. Then he seemed to remember, and looked up for a moment.

“Alright, follow me, it’s a bit off the path, but it’s worth it. Promise.”

Despite the warnings in your mind, you followed Kili up a rocky slope, occasionally needing his assistance with some of the trickier parts. You climbed a good fifteen minutes before he stopped and turned sideways. Before setting off, he looked back at you and grabbed your hand.

“It can be a bit slippery from here on, so be careful.”

Now you could see what you supposed his destination was. A rocky ledge stood a few meters away, high above the rest of the valley. The Prince led you along the entire way.

Eventually, you reached the ledge and were able to gaze around. It was stunning, to say the least. Rivendell looked even more beautiful at night than it did during the day, with lanterns and candles glowing about the houses and courtyards. Moonlight reflected off of fountains and roofs, and filtered through leaves to create patterns on the ground below. The faint sound of elven flutes and harps rang throughout the air, blending beautifully with waterfalls around the valley, and you soon realized that the waterfalls were instruments in the song too.

You also realized that Kili had not released his hold on your hand, but you weren’t going to bring that up in fear that he might stop.

“Nice view, is it not?” he asked.

“That’s a bit of an understatement.”

He flashed you a smile before taking a seat on the stone, pulling you down to sit beside him.

“I figured this would be a lovely place for stargazing, Gimlelul.”

You felt like you should know what that word meant, but it had been long since you had had to converse in dwarvish beyond simple phrases. But the young prince continued on before you could give it much thought.

“The stars seem so much brighter here, don’t they? And much more numerous.”

You nodded in agreement. “They do indeed. It’s almost impossible to pick out a single star with how many there are.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” Kili replied, a smirk spreading across his face.

“I don’t think so. Too many stars to find a constellation.”

“Well, how about something easy then. What about the brightest star? Find that.”

You turned your gaze upwards, searching in vain for the North Star. The longer you looked up, the brighter all the stars seemed. After a few minutes of  straining your eyes, you groaned and turned to Kili.

“It’s impossible. My eyes hurt from staring at the stars.”

Kili grinned.

“You admit defeat?”

“If only to save my poor eyes.”

“Well, you really are bad at this aren’t you? The brightest star is the easiest thing to find, see?”

Frustrated, you turned your gaze back to the heavens and searched again.

“You can’t possibly pick out the North Star from here, Kili. There’s just far too many of them.”

“Who said anything about the North Star? I asked for the brightest star.”

“The North Star is the brightest Star, you idiot! That’s the most basic knowledge anyone can have!”

“Ah, but you’re wrong. While the North Star is the brightest star in the sky, the brightest star in existence is sitting right in front of me.”

You blinked at him for a moment, before groaning.

“Oh come on Kili,”

“No, I'm serious! You are the brightest star in the whole of Middle Earth.”

You gave him a look, but smiled all the same.

“That’s… ridiculous.”

“You don’t like it? It seemed fitting for you. You know, I can see starlight in your eyes all the time? Doesn’t matter what time of day, there’s always stars that glitter in your eyes. It’s incredibly distracting.”

At this point, what could a person do but get flustered, as a prince said all these lovely things to them.

“Kili, what are you saying, exactly?”

“Is it not obvious, Gimlelul?”

There was that word again. The meaning seemed to be right on the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t place it. Suddenly, Kili drew much nearer, and placed a kiss on your temple.

“Men Iananubukhs me,” He whispered. “My brightest star.”

‘Oh’, you thought. ‘Right. That’s what it means.’

The two of you spent much of the night up on the ledge, Only coming down when the stars started disappearing to make way for the sun.

Gimlelul: My brightest/glittering star

Men Iananubukhs me: I love you

[hxseok-honee]

atlas heart || jeon jungkook

requested by @deepseavibez​ , asking who jungkook is when he’s not the person he makes himself out to be </3 this little moment takes place right after part 6 of the au, when jimin first brings up jungkook to y/n.

>> because when jungkook is finally alone, he’s terrified of being alone <<

______________________________

“Jeon Jungkook, you son of bitch!” Jungkook cracks a mischievous smile, taking the rough pat to his back with ease. He’d just been handed yet another detention for causing trouble in the castle, but even with all the house points he’d lost over the years, Gryffindor had always welcomed him home like a hero. It’s not hard to fathom, really -- with the weight this war’s had on the world, everyone could use a laugh. 

Nodding once at the 7th year that had greeted him when he’d walked into the common room, he tucks the detention slip into the pocket of his robes, the ink still fresh from his most recent run-in with authority. He gives the room one last glance-over as he heads for his room, his grin falling just slightly when he makes eye contact with James Potter, the older boy sitting with the rest of his friends by the fireplace. Their gazes remained locked while Jungkook crosses to the stairs, and it’s only when Potter sends him a playful wink that he turns away, setting foot on the first step as a sigh builds up in his chest. 

Nudging the door to the 6th year boys’ dorm open with his shoulder, Jungkook stops short at the sight before him. Kim Taehyung lounges on his bed, next to Jungkook’s own, but that’s not what brings Jungkook pause. Sitting at the foot of Taehyung’s bed, books spread around him like some kind of nerd halo, is Park Jimin. The Ravenclaw doesn’t even notice Jungkook’s entrance, but Taehyung certainly does. 

“Jungkook… hey, what’s up?” Jungkook’s eyebrow quirks just a fraction of an inch at the tone in Taehyung’s voice and even more at the way Jimin’s head is whipping up to look at him, eyes wide. Jungkook’s phone sits in his pocket, a text from Y/n from not even 24 hours ago sitting in the spotlight of Jungkook’s memories.

Park Jimin asked about you today… I think he knows something.

But it’s not like Jimin would know that Jungkook knows anything, so he hums a greeting in Taehyung’s direction and shoots Jimin an easy smile. 

“Jimin… right?” Jimin’s nod is cautious, almost like he’s uncomfortable with the fact that Jungkook knows his name. Jungkook crosses to his bed, pointing lamely at it as he looks at his roommate. “You guys mind if I take a nap? I gotta serve detention tonight, so…” Taehyung jumps up, practically kicking Jimin in the back as he searches for his shoes.

“Go for it, man -- we’re heading down to dinner anyway--”

“Wait, what? I thought we were studyi--” Taehyung shushes his best friend, bending down to pack Jimin’s books into his bag for him and sending Jungkook a curious glance, almost as if to check if he could hear them. Jungkook pretends he’s not standing less than five feet away and pulls back the blankets on his bed, taking a seat on the mattress with a suppressed sigh. He barely registers when the room empties out, too busy tugging the knot of his tie loose and flopping back onto his pillow with a groan.

--

When he sits up in bed, it’s several hours later and he’s incredibly frazzled. The state of him, heart racing and hair stuck to a forehead slick with sweat, is only worsened by the darkness he finds himself in. Glancing at the clock on his bedside table, he swears under his breath, realizing he’s almost three hours late for detention. Instead of jumping to his feet and running to explain himself, however, he’s patting his pants frantically for his phone. When he finds it, he’s yanking it from his pocket and searching for a contact almost out of desperation. 

Shoving the phone to his ear, he pins the device to his shoulder and holds it there as he searches blindly for his shoes. The line clicks, and he doesn’t even give her the chance to greet him.

“Are you alright? Tell me you’re alright. I had a drea--”

“Woah, woah, slow it down there. I’m totally fine… what happened?” Jungkook sighs loudly into the receiver, slipping his sneakers on and practically barreling out of his bedroom door. 

“Just… are you busy?” There’s a laugh on the other end, soft and breathless.

“I’m always busy, Jungko--”

“Don’t… don’t say my name.”

“But I’m alone…” He doesn’t hear one of his housemates call out a pleasant greeting to him -- he doesn’t even see that he basically runs Remus Lupin down on his way out of the common room. He has a reputation around the castle for being reckless and chaotic, but only two people in this school know what causes his tunnel vision : fear.

“Just don’t say it, Y/n!” He swears under his breath again, looking around to make sure no one’s heard him, and then he’s on the move again.

“Okay, I won’t, I promise… Where are you?” Her voice is calm, almost soothing, and Jungkook knows that’s on purpose. He responds as he’s racing up the closest staircase, taking the steps two at a time.

“I’m just… I’m on my way to--” Rounding the corner, he’s met with the sight of Y/n standing at the end of the corridor, leaning against the wall nearest the stairs to Ravenclaw tower. She’s gazing at him expectantly -- of course she is. She’s seen this enough times to know exactly what’s on his mind when he calls her in the middle of the night. 

Jungkook pockets his phone, ending the call without another word. Almost as if all his energy’s been drained from his body now that he has her in front of him, he trudges down the length of the corridor slowly, memories resurfacing as he goes. Memories of a happy home, a happy life. Memories of a mother who dotes on two children, of a father who reads two children to bed every night. Memories of late nights spent hiding away from the rest of the castle, just the two of them -- a childhood predicated on secrecy, in the hopes of one day being able to walk the streets of the wizarding world with no more fear. Because for now, fear is all he knows. 

When he reaches the end of the corridor, he doesn’t stop or even slow down, all but crashing right into Y/n as he takes her into his arms. He can’t tell her what he dreams about -- he can never tell her. He can never say that he lives every day in fear, fear for more than just his life. Fear for hers. Fear that one day he’ll wake up and she won’t be there. Fear that every moment of his life, he’s somehow coming closer to losing the only person that keeps him going. 

But he doesn’t need to tell her. He doesn’t need to say that he’s scared for himself, for his family. Because she is his family, she’s more than that. So if anyone knows what’s happening in his mind, it’s her. And, while he usually revels in the fact that she knows every thought that crosses his mind at any given moment, he hates that she will always know what plagues his nightmares. If he’d ever had any doubt of that fact, all he’d have to do is exactly what he’s doing right now -- falling apart in her arms. 

“You’re okay. Y/n, you’re okay… I…”

“Of course I’m okay, Jungkook. How could I not be? I’ve got you.”

[hockeyboysiguess]

peace | t. seguin

a/n: had this idea for a hot minute. finally felt like writing it out!

wine pairing: a port wine, pretty much as sweet as wine gets. 

warnings: cavity causing sweetness. some swearing. 

word count: 2.8K

Tyler Seguin had taken a while to grow up, longer than some people wanted, longer than even Tyler himself had wanted at some points. Some people had lost faith he ever would, even some of the people closest to him. It made him cautious and caused him to retreat further into his comfortable shell of youth and false innocence. It prevented him from becoming the person he was always meant to be. Youth and the mistakes that come along with it weren’t forever and he had always know that. But it was easy. Continuing down a straight, defined path was easier than taking one that branched off into the surrounding mist with no idea what the end would look like, even if the path he was on would end in a brick wall he’d seen coming since he’d started on it. 

Until you. 

Meeting you for the first time was one of Tyler’s foggiest memories. He had been absolutely trashed, falling all over himself at a bar. You had been there with a few friends, celebrating something that good that had happened at work, a good presentation, a new client, a promotion, Tyler couldn’t remember for the life of him. Tyler had tried to be smooth and offered to buy you a drink, but the interaction instead ended up with you flagging down a bartender to get him a glass of water and slyly confiscating the whiskey sour from him when he was too lost in the effort of trying to impress you to notice. You got two cups of water in him before he had even noticed. To be fair, Tyler hadn’t noticed much of anything that night, just that you were beautiful and that he had liked your smile from across the bar. 

Somehow, someway, you had given him your number before he left under the guise of letting you know when he got home safely. It wasn’t a guise on your part, but Tyler had used it as an opportunity to ask you out to brunch, the most innocent sounding of dates, as a way to say thank you for taking care of him. By some grace from something Tyler wasn’t even sure he fully believed in, you had agreed to brunch. He was all but convinced you were going to stand him up, realizing that he was just the mess you’d seen that one night, and that you could definitely do better than him. But you were there when he arrived, put together and so good, so much better than him. You were still there really, since Tyler had shown up fifteen minutes late. 

He didn’t know why, considering you were probably the most beautiful person he had ever been allowed in twenty feet of, but you laughed, you smiled, you enjoyed his company. You told him you did. You were blunt, strong in your beliefs in the face of any test. In all the time Tyler had known you, beginning with your choice to show up on the date even though he was certain everyone in your life who looked out for you told you not to go, you never wavered from your convictions, not even for a second. Your feet were firmly planted in your viewpoints, roots wrapping around each one to hold you in place, strong enough to weather any storm. 

You showed up for a second date, then the third, then Jamie’s birthday party, then to dinner with his mom and sisters. You kept showing up, even as Tyler held his breath, waiting for you to realize that he was so flawed compared to you. You were a future masterpiece and Tyler was at best a work in progress, but it was already so obvious that while you deserved to be hung in a prominent spot in the Louvre when you were finished, Tyler’s top showing might be an abstract college art gallery in a hidden New York alley. But god, did he love getting to be the person who got to stand next to you, seeing each brush stroke of the life you were building in motion. You were the most impressive person he had ever met and you continued to be, every layer of paint containing something else that astounded him and made him feel inferior, like he was tarnishing, borderline ruining, the masterpiece that was you by putting his hands in the wet paint of your life. You swore to him he was only making you better. 

He didn’t know how that was possible, but he trusted your words. Your integrity ran too deep in the foundations of who you were to lie to him. With every addition to your life, your integrity ran through it. You knew exactly the person you wanted to be and you would drag yourself there kicking and screaming if that’s what it took. The depth of your integrity was the thing that made Tyler most terrified, because he barely had any idea of who he was before he met you. He felt like he was standing in the middle of a hurricane that made up his life and he was a sapling among the winds, green and flexible, but with swallow roots, barely sunk in, constantly in danger of being lifted from the soil at the words of shitty friends and strangers on the internet. You were solid, firm, sunk deep into the soil next to him and thank god for that. Tyler wasn’t great at a lot of things when he met you, but he knew he had to hold onto you. If holding onto you was the only thing he ever did right, it would be more than enough. 

Except Tyler felt guilty for doing it, because while Tyler matured with you, his roots growing deeper along with his convictions, he still felt small standing next to you. Sometimes when he got to do his childhood dream of a job, a grown man playing a little kid’s sport, talking shit on the ice, in interviews, in the locker room, he felt like he was wasting the good person you were, like he was wasting your integrity and honor with his own actions. He could give you adventures, fulfill your wildest dreams. He could give you the family you always wanted. He could hold your hand through the worst storms, help you fight off the potential robbers of your happiness. But the storm would always come and the robbers would always be on your doorstep because Tyler was the one pulling them in. His job brought attention, resulting in a chaotic version of your life that you never envisioned for yourself. He could never stop it, only stand next to you as you stood tall in the storm. 

Standing there, with the sun slowly setting behind him, barring down on his neck, his suit felt heavy on his shoulders, but not as heavy as the velvet box in his hands. He’d had it for over a month now. Designing the contents had been easy, arguably fun even for Tyler who had thought it would be like a root canal, but the second the jeweler had handed him the finished product, the doubt started forming, dragging his mind down. Before he held the ring, he felt like he had been floating on the best memories of your relationship, giving him confidence that you would say yes. Those cherished memories kept his mind afloat, far enough away from potential pitfalls to move forward with creating this symbol of your relationship in his hands. But without warning, he was in mental quicksand made up of past fights, the negative outside opinions he has always pushed aside and hoped you did to, and past versions of himself he didn’t like as much, and he felt like he couldn’t get his head above water long enough to find any possible reason you might say yes instead of no. 

But here he was, unable to handle the doubt anymore, velvet box in hand, ready to ask you to marry him because the only way he couldn’t doubt your answer was if he knew it. Tyler bounced on his heels, his new dress shoes creasing with his movements. Why had he gotten new shoes for this? Didn’t he have enough dress shoes? That’s what you asked him when he’d brought them home a week ago, after he finally realized he was going to feel like he was drowning until he asked you. He had waved you off, saying he didn’t have a pair this particular shade, which was a lie. They were black. Shades were a little irrelevant in the realm of black dress shoes. He didn’t know exactly why he had bought them, or why they helped bring him to this point, the park where you’d walked together after your second date, but they had and because of that, he didn’t regret buying yet another pair of black dress shoes. 

He checked his watch again for easily the twentieth time in a tenth of those minutes. You would be walking down the path any moment and this would be real. This was the last moment that Tyler could live in limbo, the last moment of carrying the doubt that was hanging so heavy on his mind, but also the last moment he wouldn’t know if your answer was no. God, what would he do if you said no? He didn’t have a plan for that, for what it would feel like to watch his entire future go blank in one moment, for what it would feel like for his heart to come out of his chest through his throat only to have it tossed aside like yesterday’s newspaper. Tyler shook his head softly and turned the box over in his hands again.

He heard your laugh before you came around the bend and it made him smile. It made him remember exactly why he had started this horrible journey to this moment in the first place; he couldn’t imagine his life without that laugh, without your hair ties scattered across his house, without you standing at the front door every single time he came home from a road trip, no matter the time. Tyler’s breath caught in his throat when you came into view. You looked beautiful every day, but that was his favorite dress, the one from your fourth date, and you were wearing the heels he had bought you for the first birthday of yours he spent with you. As you came closer, he saw the earrings from Christmas this past year and the necklace that matched them that he followed up with for your anniversary a few months ago. There were touches of how he touched your life all over you and it made him feel, for a second, like maybe you might just say yes. 

“Tyler,” you smiled at him softly and he had to let out a long, strained breath to try to get his head on straight, “what is all of this? Jamie didn’t tell me anything.” 

“Yeah, I told him not to,” Tyler laughed a little, trying to expel some of his nerves in his laughter.

“What’s going on, Ty?” you pressed again, taking in the flowers, the candles, and Tyler’s suit, which at least made you feel less like the only person overdressed for a walk in the park.

Tyler didn’t answer with his words. He let his eyes find yours and he thought about how central the woman behind them had become to his entire life. He didn’t have a speech planned. He knew he would have forgotten it anyway. He slowly dropped down onto his right knee and just let the words tumble out of his mouth, just trying to keep the pace somewhere near where you could possibly understand. 

“When I met you, I was someone else. I was a guy who never showed up anywhere on time. I hated mornings and responsibility. I didn’t know who I really wanted to be, let alone how to get there. I didn’t really believe in much of anything, least of all myself,” Tyler started, “but you changed all of that, just by being there. You showed up in my life and didn’t try and change a single thing about me. You showed up and I realized I wanted to be better. You were the catalyst. You started this chain reaction of change that made me realize the person I wanted to be was the person who deserved someone like you.” 

Your hands were covering your mouth as the tears welled up in your eyes. You couldn’t speak so thank god you didn’t have to. You just needed to listen, so you did. 

“I’m still not some perfect guy. I’m a work in progress and I know that. I’m not a hundred percent sure of who I’m going to be, but I know I’m ready to be the best husband to you. You’re the person that I tell everything to, my wildest dreams, my fears, my ups, my downs, my lefts, my rights, but you’re also the only person I can sit in silence with and feel comfortable doing it because I don’t feel alone in silence if you’re sitting next to me in it too,” Tyler continued. 

“I see your brother as my brother, your family as my family. God, I want to create a new family with you so badly, give you that child I know you’ve wanted your entire life. I want to keep you warm during the cold nights. I want to make sure your head stays above water when the blues come in waves. I want to love you in a way that’s only meant for the two of us to ever understand. I want to be your husband. I want to be your husband more than I’ve ever wanted anything.” 

Tyler cleared his throat. The tears falling down your face were mirrored in his eyes now, threatening to spill over. He couldn’t talk if he cried, so he looked up toward the sky, willing the tears to let him finish first. 

“But baby, I can’t ever give you peace. I can give you all of me, my absolute best foot forward every single day, but I can’t give you peace. I can’t give you the quiet, calm life that you deserve.” His voice was cracking and breaking every other word, the pain he felt behind the words hanging onto each syllable unyieldingly. “There’s always going to be people talking shit, saying terrible things about you, about us. We’re always going to have to live behind high walls with narrow gates. The storm is always going to come for you if you’re standing with me and that kills me, because you deserve to feel safe and secure and at peace in your life.”

Tyler wiped his eyes with the back of his hand slowly, letting out a deep, shaky breath as he tried to pull himself back to a place where he could actually ask you what he came here to ask you. He didn’t think it would be this damn hard. He might have tried to practice otherwise.  

“Is it enough?” Tyler asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Would I be enough, even if I can never give you peace? Is my love good enough to overcome that for the rest of your life? I hope so, because I’m asking if it’s enough. I’m asking you, if everything I can offer you is enough to overcome all of that. If it can, let me be your coparent. Let me be your partner. Let me be your husband.”

Tyler opened the velvet box he swore weighed a ton right now and you gasped behind your closed mouth. His mind was too foggy and too anxious to try to figure out if your reaction was positive or negative at this point.

“Will you marry me?”

The words, the four words that had felt like a shackle on his mind for months now, finally came out of his mouth. The doubt was gone. There was no reason for it anymore. Your answer would be what it was and there was nothing Tyler could do or say to change your mind now. Nothing he said in this moment would. If you wanted to marry him, you would’ve decided you did long before you showed up here today. Your answer was fixed long before Tyler’s speech and he knew that now.

Tyler watched you with anxious eyes, taking in the tears sliding down your face, your hands shaking over your mouth. He watched as you slowly took your hands away from your mouth. Your lower lip was quivering not unlike your hands as you slowly fanned your face in an effort to calm your reddened checks and put a dam on the tears that were still flowing. Even if he hadn’t said a word other than those last four tonight, you already knew your answer. 

“Yes, Tyler. Yes.” 

You offered your hand out, watching as his shaking hands clumsily collided with your to slide the ring onto your left hand. Tyler’s arms around you and his mouth on yours happened in a blurb and you melted into his strong chest. Your fiancé. Your future husband.

Tyler was wrong though. He thought he would create endless noise in the background and foreground of your life, robbing you of the ability to live a good, quiet life. But Tyler gave you all of the peace you could ever want in moments like this, where the entire rest of the world drowned out by his warmth and his love, when you were pressed against his chest.

This was peace and it was more than good enough. It was everything you had ever hoped for.

[holdmyowos]

(Mature) A Taste of the Night Switch Eren Yeager x reader TW: oral (reader receiving), unprotected sex, fingering, foul languageSwitch deprived virgin Eren x gender neutral reader (Mature Content) Guys I found this playlist it is very underrated. If you like Eren, check it out. https://youtu.be/zZ-LmC5_OjI Eren Yeager. Your hero. It wasn’t his fault he was a titan, but everyone treated him as a monster, even though he had shown his loyalty time and time again, serving the scouts. They kept him in a dungeon. It looked normal enough, but perhaps it was slightly titan proof. They feared him, but trapping him wasn’t going to make him more likely to help their cause. No doubt if he wanted to, he would easily have destroyed the place by turning into a titan. “You can’t be too careful,” people said, whenever talking about him. Some, the religious, crossed themselves in his presence or when talking about him. This imprisonment isn’t careful, it's stupidity. You always thought that. Eren was treated like an animal, only let out of his cage when they needed him for something, which, most of the time, was for fighting, and the other part was interrogation. He never had any leisure time, only staring at the walls of his cell, thinking of who knows what. You were often the person sent down to give him his meals, or supervise during baths, though you didn’t look at him. There were always one or two guards, too, staring him down as if he would do something any minute. He could, but you knew he wouldn’t. Just because a king has the power to kill innocent people, if they are a good ruler, they’ll try not to. When you gave him his food, which you were often told to do, since you were one of the few people not terrified by his existence. You always slipped notes in from his friends with the napkins, sometimes writing on the undersides yourself, telling him to bear it, keep up the good effort, what a great person he was. If he ever actually got to read any of it, you didn’t know, considering how the guards always watched. He always slipped them under his pillow case before the sentries could see the writing. Perhaps he pretended to sleep while actually reading them. After working for the scouts, being kind, everyone trusted you. This was his one night of release, where he could leave the cell and do anything he wanted. As a ‘gift’, they let him out for 8 hours. Something others would take for granted, thinking nothing of it. Night, not day. It made people much less likely to notice him. You were told to secretly guard him, report back if he did anything suspicious. You wouldn’t tell on him, no way, no matter what he did, but if they were giving you permission to go follow him on his one day to keep secrets, you were going to see what he was up to. The sun was down, and the sky was dark. You gave the signal. The guard unlocked the gate, and Eren stretched, and slowly walked out of the door, as if a house cat, seeing the door open for the first time, the possibility of the outdoors calling. From there, cautious, he set a fast pace of walking away. You followed him out of the barracks, and he seemed to have a place in mind of where he was going. You almost lost him a couple times, a combination of his fast walking and you trying to be stealthy. You had borrowed a plain scout cape with a hood on it, concealing you. You saw him duck into a bar, and you stopped your feet, disappointed, but not entirely surprised. Wasn’t he 19? Could he even drink? You shook your head. If you were in his situation, wouldn’t the first thing you’d do is go and get drunk? You walked in cautiously, if they hadn’t stopped him, they wouldn’t stop you. Everyone stopped to stare at you, and you looked around. Eren wasn’t there. How did he give you the slip? You turned back around, headed out, and bumped into someone. They were so close, they must have been an inch or two behind you as you were walking in. “Boo.” He said. You looked up, and it was Eren. He flipped your hood, revealing who you were. He pressed you against the gray stone wall as a couple walked into the

bar, their faces in shadows. He took his hand off your mouth, instead grabbed your hand, and pulled you with him. He started walking, slower this time, allowing you to easily keep up. “I knew they’d send someone after me. Pointless to try to hide. ” Instead of being angry, he replied, “I suppose I can’t put it past you for following orders. Well then, be my guest. Follow me all night. I’d much rather have you than another guard. Who knows, maybe we can do something fun.” He put an earbud in the ear opposite from you. Where did he possibly get that? What was it attached to? Was he communicating with someone? You realized that you had stopped walking, and he was looking back at you, gently pulling on your arm. “Come on, I don’t have all day,” he complained. You apologized, and kept up. You heard some loud music, the beat dropping hard, it was blaring, but quiet to you. You looked around, and saw nothing. It sounded far off. You realized that it must have been coming from his earbud. “You’re going to lose your hearing, like that,” you muttered quietly. “Maybe,” he hummed. “But I heal so quickly, I doubt it.” You walked a bit, and he stopped in front of a house. He opened it, and stepped aside for you to enter. Was this his? It was small, and looked like it had been recently cleaned, but no one lived here, since the place wasn’t decorated at all, and the only furniture was a dresser, a lamp, and a bed. There wasn’t even a fridge or television. He shut the door and locked it. Should that be a red flag? He pulls open the dresser, and you try and peer in, but he pushes you away. He takes a bottle of something, probably wine, out, and lays it on the top of the dresser. “You can have some, if you want. It doesn’t work on me, as much as I wish it did. You take the bottle in your hands, turning it over. Maybe later. “Come on, hurry up. We don’t have very much time. I only have a night off.” He pauses, his shirt halfway off. What is he doing? You can see his nipples. You look away, blush flooding your cheeks. You had just wanted to talk, but if he wanted to do this instead, could you say no? You had never thought of him in a sexual way, but now that you looked, probably the only thing he could do in that cell was exercise, push ups and sit-ups. It showed on his body. His dark hair was messy and long, no one had bothered to help him with it. It wasn’t too bad, though. Under his eyes, lines showing that he had recently been in titan form. Every second, they faded a little bit more. In a couple hours, they’d be gone. His eyes were halfway closed, and you could tell he was thinking bad thoughts. He sighed, a breathy, needy sound. The noise made its way down to your core, and you were sure your cheeks were flaming. He sat you down on the bed. “You were the only one that was kind to me, this whole time I'd been there. Even my friends can't visit me. Please, let me return the favor. If not, I’ll just take matters into my own hands.” His hand traveled up your leg, but you flinched away from him. His eyes hardened, disappointed. “Fine, be like that. But if you don’t want me, then have the decency to act like it. Yes or no, I’m still having a good time tonight.” You looked down at his crotch, if he was this horny, then, how long had he been planning this? Did he know you liked him that much? You felt your underwear was no longer dry. “No, don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself later. I just want to taste you. Eat you. Please, let me. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to resist grabbing your wrist and keeping you in the cell with me. But I couldn't do that. It’d put you in danger, since you would be with me. It has to be a secret. You are my candle in the darkness.” On his knees, he has fully taken off his shirt, and you can’t help but stare. He grabs your hips. “Please, I need you.” You cracked. “Of course, I’d do anything for you. I’m just surprised you’d want to please me instead of yourself.” The words slipped out of your mouth. “Don’t think so lowly of me.” He growled. “I recently. Turned 19. A whole year being

legal, and I wasn’t able to do anything that whole damn time. I was so desperate for someone.” He slid down your bottoms and gently took off your underwear. He thrust a finger in your hole and you cried out. "S-sorry. I… haven't done this before." You guided his fingers, and he had you feeling good in no time. He seemed so desperate to learn, to make you feel better. You could feel that you were close. He must have seen something on your face that gave it away, or perhaps it was the way you squeezed around his fingers when they slid out. He placed his mouth between your thighs, and you felt his hot breath hit you. He was staring, a starved man waiting for the prayer to be over, to finally be allowed a meal. You held the back of his head and pushed him towards you. He didn't hesitate, he stuck out his tongue and went at it like a pro. You couldn't help the noises that came out of your mouth. Even better, he really seemed to be genuinely enjoying it too. When you came, he gulped it down. He stayed there, at your knees, staring up at you, as if wanting more. "Want to… actually… do it?" You put the offer out there. "If you really want. Are you sure? I might not be able to help myself-“ you cut him off. “Yes, please, I want you. You’re my idol, Eren. You don't know how much you mean to me.” He pushed you into the bed and suffocated you with his kisses. You had never dreamed you’d end up like this with such an amazing person. He let out a couple of loud huffs as you sat on his lap, slowly taking him in. “Damn, I’m already- fuck, I don’t think we should do this. I might spend my whole night like this uhf.” His words were stopped as you rocked gently on him. “I’m warning you, if you don’t get off right now, I’m going to do something that’s your fault.” You just kept doing it, enjoying him underneath you. He was probably a virgin, never having the chance of doing stuff before. However, he was obviously well educated. “Go ahead, I don’t mind.” He brought his face up to your ear, and you felt his body rubbing against you. He huffed in your ear, and slowly fell still under you, and let out a shameless moan in your ear as he released, trembling. He clutched you tight, knocking your breath out, and gently lessening his pressure on you until he was hugging you gently. “That was so fast. I wasn’t expecting that. I have all night. I wonder how many times you can make me do that. I've never felt like that before, never done that, but you felt so good. I need more, baby.” Your hands were all over each other, grabbing, needy. Knowing you might not be allowed again, perhaps ever. Every second you were together, you got wetter, everything he did, sexy. He would never have a supervised bath that you weren’t staring at ever again. He spent most of the night shoving you into the mattress, fucking you from all the positions you wanted to try. In total, he made you cum four times, and he did at least twice that many. You were drained, but happy, when the sun rose, and he walked back into the barracks. You followed about five minutes later. “So, how was he?” Your supervisor whispered to you later in the day, after allowing you time to rest. “He didn’t do anything I wouldn’t approve of, sir.” You answered truthfully. “Well, I’ll be damned. Who knew? Perhaps we should give him more free time after all.” #erenxreader

legal, and I wasn’t able to do anything that whole damn time. I was so desperate for someone.” He slid down your bottoms and gently took off your underwear. He thrust a finger in your hole and you cried out. "S-sorry. I… haven't done this before." You guided his fingers, and he had you feeling good in no time. He seemed so desperate to learn, to make you feel better. You could feel that you were close. He must have seen something on your face that gave it away, or perhaps it was the way you squeezed around his fingers when they slid out. He placed his mouth between your thighs, and you felt his hot breath hit you. He was staring, a starved man waiting for the prayer to be over, to finally be allowed a meal. You held the back of his head and pushed him towards you. He didn't hesitate, he stuck out his tongue and went at it like a pro. You couldn't help the noises that came out of your mouth. Even better, he really seemed to be genuinely enjoying it too. When you came, he gulped it down. He stayed there, at your knees, staring up at you, as if wanting more. "Want to… actually… do it?" You put the offer out there. "If you really want. Are you sure? I might not be able to help myself-“ you cut him off. “Yes, please, I want you. You’re my idol, Eren. You don't know how much you mean to me.” He pushed you into the bed and suffocated you with his kisses. You had never dreamed you’d end up like this with such an amazing person. He let out a couple of loud huffs as you sat on his lap, slowly taking him in. “Damn, I’m already- fuck, I don’t think we should do this. I might spend my whole night like this uhf.” His words were stopped as you rocked gently on him. “I’m warning you, if you don’t get off right now, I’m going to do something that’s your fault.” You just kept doing it, enjoying him underneath you. He was probably a virgin, never having the chance of doing stuff before. However, he was obviously well educated. “Go ahead, I don’t mind.” He brought his face up to your ear, and you felt his body rubbing against you. He huffed in your ear, and slowly fell still under you, and let out a shameless moan in your ear as he released, trembling. He clutched you tight, knocking your breath out, and gently lessening his pressure on you until he was hugging you gently. “That was so fast. I wasn’t expecting that. I have all night. I wonder how many times you can make me do that. I've never felt like that before, never done that, but you felt so good. I need more, baby.” Your hands were all over each other, grabbing, needy. Knowing you might not be allowed again, perhaps ever. Every second you were together, you got wetter, everything he did, sexy. He would never have a supervised bath that you weren’t staring at ever again. He spent most of the night shoving you into the mattress, fucking you from all the positions you wanted to try. In total, he made you cum four times, and he did at least twice that many. You were drained, but happy, when the sun rose, and he walked back into the barracks. You followed about five minutes later. “So, how was he?” Your supervisor whispered to you later in the day, after allowing you time to rest. “He didn’t do anything I wouldn’t approve of, sir.” You answered truthfully. “Well, I’ll be damned. Who knew? Perhaps we should give him more free time after all.” #erenxreader#erenyeager

#erenjaeger

#aot

#smut

#erenyaeger

#erenyeager

#aotsmut

#anime

#aotxreader

#erenxreader

[asinnersalibi]

You know what my deepest fear is? The thought that my child won't hear "I'm proud of you" or "I love you" enough and subsequently feel like I don't love them. I recently learned that my love language is acts of service, so I will show you that I love you before I tell you, and I fear that, at some point, my child will feel like I don't love them, and you know what that's terrifying. A little backstory, I like writing, so my brain is constantly going, and I started thinking of a story idea in the dark of my room at the restless 5 am hour, and it went a little like this:

"What is your deepest fear?"

"Heights."

"Incorrect." and it just took me aback, like what the fuck do you mean incorrect? You're a figment of my imagination. Fuck off. But it made me think, what is my deepest fear? And it occurred to me that sometimes, I don't think my caregiver thinks I love them, and it reflected on current, then future relationships. Saying "I love you" on its own is a privilege because it's something people have to earn from me, but I can say I love you and it feel like a lie. I want to mean it, so I'll show it. Whether it is indulging in your favorite show because I know how much you love to talk about it and come up with your own headcanons but never having anyone to come up with headcanons with because talking to new people is hard and social anxiety is a bitch to making the ever-standing promise to buy you a car; I mean these things wholeheartedly. This probably developed from an environment of hypocrisy and emotional manipulation, and that's a post for another day. It took me this long to be able to trust people again and the last thing I ever want is for the few people I have let into my life and do hold very dear to my heart to think I don't love them.

Now that I've left my heart out in the godless lands of Tumblr, we're going over some ways to show you love someone.

Long-Distance Relationships

Indulge in their interests. Show them you're interested in what makes them happy, find your own joy in it. Don't force yourself to like something just because your partner does, find common interests, let them find you.

Respect boundaries, some people are camera shy, hate their voice, don't like talking. Telling them their beautiful, their voice is lovely, and soothing doesn't change the personal boundaries that have been set, it pushes them. You may not like texting 24/7, calling after 19:00 (7 pm), or turning your camera on, and it is the responsibility of your loved one to respect those boundaries as well.

Compromise. Instead of your 19:00, especially for different time zones, try their 19:00, which perhaps is an hour after yours. If you live 13 hours apart, set overlapping times where you can talk and you're both comfortable, even if it's not the times you specifically set for yourself.

Buy them food. Technology has advanced so far that you can order your loved one's favorite meal and have it delivered even if you're all the way across the world.

Make exceptions (that are to be reciprocated!!). Sometimes, your loved one is having a really shitty day and they just want to talk to you at midnight, it doesn't happen often and it's not an obligation but making exceptions is not the end of the world (when they are reciprocated!!) Reciprocated does not mean making your loved one uncomfortable by forcing them out of their comfort zone because you made an exception for them. You can say no, you can compromise. Love is a learning process and you must learn to love each other or learn to make peace on your own.

Family Dynamics

Paternal Figures

Now some of these may be some of your chores, but just for consideration.

Make dinner. As breadwinners, they work to (hopefully) put food on the table. Coming home stressed out and hungry because they got caught up in work because Justin decided to clock out at noon leaving them to cover and not having the time to properly eat lunch results in an often unhappy environment. You'd be surprised how relaxing it is to come home and dinner is already on the table. (Or ready to be consumed because if you're anything like my family, we don't eat at the table.)

Clean after yourself. Parents are a pain in the ass sometimes and they will bitch about anything dirty, misplaced, or miskept, so try to, at the very least keep yourself and your spaces clean. Then, if you can, fold the laundry, clean the fridge, make them lunch.

Compromise! Look, sometimes parents were raised in environments where the adults were adults and could do whatever they wanted while children had to just deal with it. Screaming at them for outdated parenting is unnecessary stress on the entirety of the situation. Talk to them. Tell them this is overwhelming, or you're having a hard time doing this and this, and maybe you could do this and that? Don't tell them they're wrong, you don't want to be told your wrong, don't yell at them. They're trying too. Compromise.

Remind them of things. Remind them of things they were supposed to remember, remember this sibling has orchersta practice on Thursday, buy lightbulbs, the check engine light came on a couple of days ago, don't forget to check that. You know your parents best and know what they have a hard time remembering, it is helpful.

Give them breaks, too. That doesn't always have to be doing anything but just leaving them alone. Keeping your siblings (if you have any) occupied while they take a nap, get some work done, or just relax. Parenting is hard and they might not be the best parents, but they are still your parents.

Siblings aren't much different, tell them you love them, do little things for them whether it be folding their laundry, completing a chore they forgot to do or helping them with homework. Most are appreciative, others will think you've mapped out their murder. Both are good.

Cordials (Neighbors, coworkers, workers)

Watching their house, child, or pet while they run to the store. This isn't for every neighbor but for the ones who you run into every day and you've built that trust.

"Can I borrow a cup of sugar", if you are in a well enough position to provide for yourself, try to provide for others.

Cover your coworkers, within reason. If that one coworker just always takes the busiest week off, don't feel obligated to torture yourself because someone asked. If a coworker's kid just threw up and they need to pick them up from school, that's different. It's all in perspective, to me, family takes priority, to you, it may be different. Know your boundaries, know when you push them, don't let people step all over them.

Let things slide. People make mistakes, waiters mess up orders, all yelling does is make people feel worthless. Reassure them that it's okay, mistakes happen, and they can be fixed.

Children are going to play in streets, oblivious to their surroundings, if you know they're there try to be cautious. That's love to a community.

Call your family members, tell them you love them. Remind them that you know they are there. Especially as you get older.

Tip your waiters, babysitters, and nurses.

Be honest.

Know how to love people. Learn.

Show kindness, don't wonder why your life is so shitty when you treat everyone like shit. Karma's a bitch.

Learn how to smile. You don't have to love yourself, but know when it's best to love yourself by loving others.

Love. Don't hate. There's enough hate.

Remember, people love in different ways, if you, like myself, love with acts of services and your partner is a verbal lover, coexist. Your words mean the world to them and acting upon them means the world for you. That's okay, love comes in many shapes, sizes, colors, and concepts, it's finding your love, and growing with it.

That is not to say love is one-sided, loving someone is a two-way street, and you, as a lover must understand when someone is figuring out how to love you, and when they don't love you at all. The rose-tinted glasses become so comfortable to wear you forget to see the red flags and that is a distinction that takes time, patience, and experience. Don't be taken advantage of, don't let people walk all over you or cross boundaries under the concept of love, that's not love, it's manipulation. Stay safe, people, stay humble and love each other.

[marmolady]

Homecoming: Part One

Read PART TWO here!

Main Pairings: Estela x (f)MC, Graleister

Summary: Endless Ending. Estela and Taylor spend one last night in San Trobida before returning to La Huerta and facing their future. This was going to be a two-parter, but I got all long-winded, so four-parter is more like it.

Word Count: 3342

Chronology: After 'The New Taylor' and 'A Ride to Remember', sort of midway through 'Inheritance'.

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove @mauvecatfic​

Thanks for reading!

Parrying the blows of her brother’s sword with the easy grace of a well-honed professional-- she had been doing this since her early teens-- Estela seemed to dance across the basement floor, totally in her element. Then Aleister lurched forward, and she jumped back, effortlessly dodging his attack. But in the landing, she found herself, finally, unstuck. Under the sudden weight of her whole body, her wounded leg gave way, and she stumbled. In a split second, Aleister’s cautious approach fell away and he pushed his advantage before Estela could recover. With a final flick of his blade, she was disarmed.

Estela laughed at the look of plain shock on Aleister’s face at his own victory. “Not half bad,” she commented, impressed that he hadn’t fumbled around taking advantage of her weakness. Her healing leg injury had been a source of great frustration-- despite regular massages of the Vaanti-made ointment concocted using the leaves from The Celestial’s roof, improvement had plateaued. The last thing she wanted was to be babied. “You’re still wasting too much energy with flamboyant gestures. This isn’t ballet-- it doesn’t have to look pretty.”

“Well, it certainly doesn’t appear that ‘pretty’ has hindered my performance,” Aleister panted, recovering just enough to be rather pleased with himself.

Offering a hand to take Aleister’s sword, Estela grinned. “Like I said, not half bad. Come on, hermano. We’d better give Tio a hand in the kitchen; it sounded like he had a big spread planned.”

Brother. That was still new. Only in the lead-up to his hand-fasting to Grace a few months prior had Estela gone so far as to utter that word in relation to Aleister. He reacted as he always did, a double-take, then his cheeks going immediately pink. It had been so long he’d craved that acceptance… now that it was there, it seemed it would take him some getting used to.

All attempts at helping Nicolas out with the farewell dinner were met with strong resistance. Some butting of heads later, Estela realised it really wasn’t a hill worth dying on; if her tio wanted to do something special for them all, she’d just have to step back and let him. After all, it could well be some time before he’d have this opportunity again. Come the next day, she, Taylor, and their friends, would all be on their way, and Nicolas would once more be left to an empty house.

As much as she tried to join in the energetic conversations over dinner, Estela found herself distracted. With her return to La Huerta, she’d be taking steps to move on with her life; to come to terms with the grief she’d suffered and get some closure. And then… she was faced with working out what the hell kind of life she’d forge for herself; something that had been made all the more complicated since Aleister had seen fit to bestow upon her half of everything he’d been left after Rourke’s demise. She’d made good progress on coming to peace with that connection, but she was not fool enough to be under any illusions… she still had a long way to go.

The subject of conversation turned to the case against Lundgren-- and the subsequent clearing of Jake’s name-- and Estela shook herself back to the present.

“The evidence is fairly damning,” Aleister was saying as he loaded his fork with beef, egg and plantain. “Certainly, the prosecutors were pleased. That we have access to every file my father ever touched, and a wealth of video and audio recordings, it would be difficult indeed to look at what’s presented and not come back with a guilty verdict.”

Jake smiled wryly, the grin failing to make his eyes. “I’ll give ya one thing, Malfoy, your old lady ain’t a dame I’d want to get on the wrong side of. I guess… we’ll see. Worst case, settlin’ down out here wouldn’t be half bad.”

“We won’t rest until you’re home,” Grace declared resolutely, her dark eyes shining. “That awful man isn’t going to be remembered as anything other than a power-hungry conniving brute. I’ll stand up and make a witness statement in court myself!”

She had, Jake knew, her own haunting personal experiences of seeing that exact brutality at close quarters. It made him sick. “Hey-- I won’t have you dredging up all that. Not for me--”

Grace spoke across him, calmly but firmly. “It’s my stand to take. I had quite enough of being helpless as Rourke’s prisoner; I need to take my power back.”

Jake’s mouth snapped shut. He wasn’t about to argue with that. “The poor defense won’t know what hit it.” The words rang hollow as exchanged a subtle dark look with Estela. The optimism was nice and all, but experience had told the both of them that the world was a corrupt place and ‘fair’ barely counted for squat.

“I know you think I’m naive,” Grace said, “and maybe I am, but the fact remains that we’re not giving in.”

Taylor grinned, confident because she had to be. “I didn’t offer my life force to some crystal alien only for you to not get back to your family. This is a matter of ‘how’ and ‘when’, not ‘if’.”

Beside her, Estela nodded. “Look, we’d be crazy if we just go in assuming this is gonna be a cakewalk. But Pollyanna here is right; we’ll make it happen. We’re not the kind of people who just roll over to injustice, and anyone who thinks they can force us is in for a painful lesson.”

“Dang, Princess… I think you broke Eeyore. She’ll be a motivational speaker at this rate….”

“It’s Katniss, cabron. Y vete a la mierda.”

Jake sniggered into his beer. So, motivational speaker was a little stretch.

With dinner over, the group started disperse. As Estela made to make a start on clean-up, Taylor gently turned her around.

“I’m pretty sure me and Al can handle this. Make the most of tonight.”

Estela looked out through the window to the front porch, where Nicolas had settled with his flask of rum. She took a deep breath. Taylor was right; she couldn’t just let this time pass her by.

Cold beer in hand, she pushed open the front door and stepped out. “It seems like Aleister and Grace’s first bandeja paisa was a hit.”

Nicolas beamed at the sight of her, and clinked her bottle as she sat down in the other chair. “Of course. Either that or they are exceptional actors.”

“No chance,” Estela laughed. “You’ve seen the looks he gives poor Taylor’s cooking. Her confidence has been shot since they’ve been here. At least Grace is polite about it.”

“You must be excited. I’ve said for so long that your potential was being wasted, and now… the world is your oyster. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Estela shifted in her chair and took a long drink.

“What’s that look for, mija?”

“Well, yeah, I’m excited. Terrified, but…. If I finish this degree, I really should think of what I want to do with it. And, well, all that money Aleister’s pushing on me.”

“That gilipollas. You poor thing.”

“Actually, I’m almost getting used to the idea. As much as it freaks me out, Mom would have been so happy to know I’ve got a leg up.” A small smile crept to Estela’s face. “I keep seeing so many things I could help with. Like the schools and universities-- how much could recovery be accelerated if people had better opportunities to learn? Or physically rebuilding so much that had been destroyed, or actually protecting the wilderness of this beautiful place?” She blushed as she caught herself getting passionate. “Rourke International has the capacity to do so much; we could actually have tourists coming here. That hasn’t happened in my lifetime!”

Nicolas chuckled, looking at his niece with clear affection. But he saw the cloud of doubt across her face.

“I…,” she continued, “I just don’t know that I have the right. We just got rid of one dictator, and Mom was collateral damage to a would-be dictator.” A would-be dictator who’s inescapably part of who I am. “Money comes with a lot of power. Even if I’m using it for what I think is good… I could cause a lot of harm.” By the time she finished, her voice was but a murmur.

“True. Alternatively, you could be one of those misers who sit upon their millions while the people around them starve and suffer, buildings crumble, and forests burn.”

“So, you’re saying I can’t win?” Estela demanded.

“I’m saying, the enemy here is ignorance. Ignorance of what greater impacts of your generosity might be, and ignorance of what suffering might go on if that generosity is withheld. The fact that you are even having these doubts tells me that you are not ignorant to the consequences of your actions.”

Estela huffed thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose,” she grumbled after a little while, “that you’d let me be, even for a second.”

“Of course not! I might be getting on a bit, but I am by no means past letting you know when you ought to unstick your head from your own backside.”

Again, Estela fell quiet. She was not going to be existing in an echo chamber. She’d surrounded herself with people that she trusted, with strong opinions and varied perspectives; people who would not balk from challenging her when necessary. If she tried, she couldn’t become a tyrant, regardless of what blood coursed her veins. At any rate, she’d simply be-- for the most part, at least-- channeling funds to others better placed to make the change she wanted to see in her world. She could be as anonymous as she wanted. Perhaps… perhaps it would not hurt to put some faith in herself.

“I take it from your silence,” Nicolas said, “that you’ve realised that once again I’m right. Now, go back to happily daydreaming about all the good you will do.”

Estela sighed dramatically, but smiled at her uncle. “I’m really gonna miss you….”

“I can’t pretend I’ve been looking forward to waking to an empty house again. But the missing you will be temporary; that’s more than I could have dared to hope for not so long ago.”

The same was true for her. And there was no way in hell she’d let goodbye be forever, not now. “Yeah. You’ve got a good point.”

“Again?”

She snorted. “Shut up, Tio.”

_________________________

The night wore steadily on, and Taylor eventually had to retreat from socialising with Nicolas’ other guests to start making headway on her night-time routine. ‘Self-care’ was something she now had down to an art; she even made a point of noting down the steps taken each night so she could easily track what was most effective. By this point, she had a fairly solid schedule. Yoga was followed by a calming cup of mint or chamomile tea, sometimes accompanied by a hot bath-- though tonight it was too late for the nice long soak she’d prefer--, and then she’d wind down even further with a half-hour’s guided meditation. Jake teased her mercilessly, but she really didn’t give a damn. If she could de-stress just enough to keep the seemingly never-ending stream of horrifying nightmares at bay, he could laugh all he wanted.

Slowly, Taylor wiggled her fingers and toes, bringing herself back to the land of the living with a long exhale. Fifteen nights without being woken up by visions of her loved ones’ deaths was the best run she’d ever had, but if those nightmares were triggered by stress, then the imminent return to La Huerta might just be the trigger that would throw a spanner in the works.

The little dog, Fenix, stretched forward and licked Taylor’s toes.

“Okay, okay, I’m back! Was I ignoring you for too long? Thanks for not interrupting my meditation, I guess,” Taylor chuckled. Having the pet had done wonders for grounding her during her regular existential crises. Fenix had come a long way from the mangy worm-ridden creature they’d taken in; still scruffy even with a full coat of hair, she was now bright as a button, and with a tail that never seemed to stop wagging.

“You’d better enjoy having me to yourself while you still can, Nixie-- this time tomorrow, we’ll probably have Furball sleeping on the end of the bed as well.”

Happily oblivious Fenix rolled and tumbled in her human’s lap. Foxes with ice powers were far beyond her frame of reference, but she could sense that whatever Taylor was talking about made her happy, so naturally there was every reason to be in a good mood.

The door creaked, and a just-showered Estela entered the room, clad only in a towel.

“Hey. I heard you talking to Nix-- figured you’d finished your meditation.”

“Hey,” Taylor cooed, feeling herself practically melt as her wife reached down to stroke her hair. “I just finished; went pretty heavy on the self-care tonight, just to be safe. You ready for bed?” She let herself be helped to her feet, and wrapped an arm around Estela’s waist. “Last cuddle in your little single bed for a while.”

Estela smiled. “Last cuddle in our little single bed.”

Taylor changed into her pyjamas and nestled under the covers, waiting and watching in quiet contentment as Estela slipped into a singlet and a light pair of shorts.

“You are so, so beautiful, you know that?”

“Taylor, you tell me that ten times a day.”

“Just making sure you’re aware, lover.” Taylor pressed herself against the wall, making room on the tiny mattress.

“You ordered a cuddle, yes?” Estela kissed and nibbled along Taylor’s jaw, feeling a tremor of an exhale, then sat back to look into the sapphire gaze of her adoring wife. Beautiful just wasn’t big enough.

“So… how are you feeling about tomorrow?” Taylor ventured.

“A lot of things,” Estela admitted. “Getting on that plane to La Huerta is going to bring back a lot of stuff. And saying goodbye to Tio… well, let’s just say, we’d better have a lot of tissues packed.”

Taylor squeezed her tight. “It’s not forever this time. And I think he knows that-- otherwise you’d be leaving again over his dead body.”

That made Estela give a little snort of laughter, but then she shook her head, sighing. “I know the guilt I’m feeling is irrational. Tio is just so happy to see how much things have changed for me. He wants me to go out and live my best life. But that doesn’t mean I can stop myself feeling it, just like that.”

Taylor didn’t have a lot of life experience, but guilt? That, she knew all about. “We’re just going to have to keep talking to that irrational part of your brain, then. Honey, your tio thought you were dead for so long-- you coming back every now and then, smiling, on your way to healing… that’s just the most amazing gift you could give him. And maybe… it’s going to help him move on too.”

“Yes.” Man, I hope so. Estela knew that her uncle had closed himself off to the world. That he’d seen that he’d done his part in life, and then retreated from it. He joked around, but for so long he’d been broken inside. Now, they could make strides towards something better, together-- even if there was a distance between them. Now, Estela had hope for them both.

Taylor snuggled close, spooning her wife from behind, and leaving  lingering kisses upon her neck and shoulders.

“What about you?” Estela asked softly, turning in the warm embrace so she could meet Taylor’s eye. “I guess this will feel like going home.”

“Yeah, I guess it will be. Something like that. It’s a very… it’s a very weird feeling, you know?”

“I can imagine. It’s going to be strange to be back on La Huerta without everyone. The village is gonna be like a ghost town.”

A small smile tugged at Taylor’s lips; in spite of her own worries. Estela sure was perceptive. “It’s kind of freaking me out.” Of course, Estela already knew that, but it had never hurt to actually put the words out there. It was quite clear that they both had to look forward to a crash course in moving on. But that they were alive, and together, and free to do so… it was everything they’d fought for. “I’m bursting to see Diego again, though. It must have been so much weirder for him these past months.”

There was a grumbling, grunting sound as Fenix settled herself into a nest made out of the clothes Taylor had left on the floor. Both women chortled. Nothing like a funny little dog to keep the mood light.

Estela tenderly stroked Taylor’s hair, loving her. “You’ll have a lot to catch up on. It’s gonna mean a lot to him to have you there.” She blushed. “It… means a lot to me to have you here.”

“Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”

“Taylor, we all are. And you’re stuck with us. There’s nothing that can change that.”

As she looked into Estela’s soft gaze, Taylor’s heart swelled. If she knew anything at all, she knew that much. All she had to do was trust in that sweet certainty.

[bittydragon]

Bucket

Warnings: Imprisonment mention

Notes: Well, I finally did it. I wrote a gt piece for MCYT. I just started with the two I'm most obsessed with, but I watch a lot of them. And I managed to write it faster than I thought seeing as I suddenly had a ton of positive feedback when I mentioned it. That was major motivation. So I really do hope you all enjoy this! I don't think this will be the last MCYT gt fic either, I'm thinking Dream Team? Or who else should I do? We'll see!

“Now what is going to ‘poof’ today, as the bean says it? I wonder what will annoy them the most?” Skeppy mumbled to himself while leaning over the edge of the bookshelf to survey the room. This was a fairly normal circumstance for the borrower. He had always been more on the risky side. Though that could be the main reason for lack of friends. Riskiness is not a good trait to most borrowers.

Skeppy however, thrived off of it, especially through the confusion he could create. It also became the reason he had been in so many houses. But while Skeppy would take the constant risks in his everyday life, he was still scared of actually being caught. He still made it a game to see how risky he could make it without being seen, so he’s very obviously been seen before. And caught once.

That was a memory that he liked to forget. It was terrifying to actually be held and thrown in a cage. He was just glad he kept different tools hidden in his clothes, so he was able to escape that night despite the bean taking the rest of his stuff. That was the fastest he ever left a house after being seen. He was not willing to repeat that situation again, so he became slightly more cautious.

But then he found the house he currently lived in. The bean lived here alone, which was unusual for most homes. When Skeppy first arrived, he thought he would have to move out quickly because of the human’s constant movement within the house and the sporadic schedule of leaving and coming back. But while the bean was obviously everywhere at once, they were the most oblivious human had ever lived with.

That wasn’t the biggest reason that Skeppy decided this was his favorite house though. No, it was how easily frustrated the human got. Skeppy realized very early on that this bean was very easily confused and agitated at everything, especially Skeppy’s antics. The human thoroughly believed there was a ghost haunting his house after Skeppy had been living there for a week. And Skeppy lived for it.

His most common, and most entertaining, trick was stealing different items from the human. He always chose a different room at random so the human wouldn’t notice, but he always took something that would inconvenience the human in some way, even for a couple minutes. The human never failed to get extremely worked up about anything. The borrower found it entertaining, so he kept doing it over and over.

So here he was, on top of a bookshelf in the human’s room deciding what he was going to steal today. Eventually his eyes landed on a small coil of wires on the human’s desk. The human would occasionally take those and stick one end into his device and the other two parts into his ears. He wasn’t sure what they were, but he knew that even if the bean didn’t look today, he was sure to miss them eventually.

Skeppy nodded to himself and prepared for his descent off the bookshelf to steal the strange mess of wires. He tossed his wire off the bookshelf and stuck the attached paperclip into the shelf for a sturdy climb down. Once he was sure the wire was secure, he began climbing down. 

He was about halfway down when the wire suddenly jerked and he fell a couple inches. He looked up in alarm to see the paperclip had shifted and was now barely holding his weight. He quickly tried to lower himself before it gave out, knowing he wouldn’t be able to make it back up in time. But the paperclip slipped only a couple seconds later, leaving the borrower tumbling down and tangled in his wire with his struggles. 

He grunted as he landed on a cold and hard surface. Skeppy groaned as he tried to flip over and sit up. He could barely move with the wire wrapped around him. As he sat up however, he realized he was not in a good spot at all. Tall walls surrounded him completely, all made of the same material as the floor. Skeppy was very suddenly alarmed.

He fell in that empty bucket the human kept in his room.

He tried to stand to make attempts at knocking over the bucket, but he kept falling back down, the wire constricting him too much. With a defeated sigh, he laid back down on the floor. He was going to be caught again. He closed his eyes and fell asleep right there. There was nothing to do but wait for the human to find him, so this was one way to waste time.

“Alrighty! Finally done with my work! Time to go to bed!” Bad smiled as he looked through his newly organized chest. With a proud nod he closed the lid and walked to his room, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he reached his bed however, he stopped. Bad wasn’t sure why he did, but he felt that he needed to check up on Mr. Squeegee’s old bucket. It had been a month now, so Bad was unsure on why he wanted to. He gave in anyways and walked over to the bucket.

“I miss you so much, Mr. Squeegee. Maybe that’s why I wanted too…”

Bad stopped and his eyes widened. There seemed to be a small person laying on the bottom of the bucket and tangled in some wire, seemingly passed out. Bad barely thought in his panic as he reached in and scooped the tiny life into his hands. He quickly lifted the tiny being up to his face. He let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding when he saw the tiny human’s chest moving up and down steadily.

He quickly walked over to his desk and sat down, panic clear in his every movement. That didn’t look comfortable at all. Bad began untangling the small man as carefully as he could. He grabbed a small pair of scissors and carefully snipped parts of the wire to allow it to untangle more easily.

It took about ten minutes, but Bad eventually removed all of the wire from the tiny person’s frame. He did a quick once over and was also relieved that there was only minimal bruising and it didn’t seem to be Bad’s fault. The poor muffin must’ve fallen from the bookshelf into the bucket.

Bad began to lean back in his chair to wait for the tiny human to wake up when he suddenly felt the tiny life shift in his hands. Bad froze and stared at him in awe, finally completely realizing that this muffin was actually alive and Bad wasn’t going crazy from sleep. Again.

His amazement vanished quickly as soon as the tiny human saw Bad. He quickly tried to back up off of Bad’s hands. He quickly curled his fingers up so he couldn’t fall. The poor muffin looked terrified! Bad knew he needed to do something, and now.

Skeppy knew that when he woke up he would find himself in captivity. He didn’t think that he would still be in the human’s hands though. And as his back hit the human’s fingers he realized he was in almost the same situation as before. He curled into a ball to make himself smaller and awaited whatever atrocity that was sure to come next.

“Awe, you little muffin. No need to be scared. How are you feeling though? You were rather tangled up, though at least there was no bruising from the fall you must’ve taken. So there’s at least one positive here!”

Skeppy peeked up at the human before coming to the startling realization that he was no longer tangled in the wire. He unfolded himself a little more and was surprised to find no more injuries beyond the bruises from his fall. He looked up at the human astonished.

A couple moments passed of the two just staring at each other in silence, both with baited breath. 

“You’re- you’re not going to hurt me. Are you?” Skeppy asked in realization. He had been living in this house for long enough to realize that the human didn’t have it in him to hurt him. He was the safest he has ever been, especially being with a human. It couldn’t possibly turn out like last time. Not with this bean.

The bean’s eyes widened at Skeppy’s statement.

“Of course I’m not going to hurt you, you numpty muffin! Why would I do that?”

Skeppy let a small giggle leave his mouth as he reached up to cover his mouth. “Numpty muffin? What is that even supposed to mean?” The human just stared at him, completely astonished.

“What does it mean? Really? You could ask anything and you ask that? You really are a numpty muffin!” Skeppy couldn’t hold in his giggles as the human continued calling him a numpty muffin and ranting on about how he could’ve asked literally anything else.

Eventually the human trailed off and looked at Skeppy softly. “Do you have a name? Or something I can call you? I’m Bad, if that helps.” Skeppy tilted his head.

“That’s a weird name.” All his fear seemed to have dissipated, which was nice actually. The human, now Bad, sighed.

“It’s short for BadBoyHalo. It’s less of a mouthful. And please,” he quickly cut Skeppy off as he saw the borrower open his mouth, “don’t ask me why that’s my name. It’s a long story.”

“So you’ll explain later?”

“Wait no-”

“Cool! You can call me Skeppy then!”

Bad stared at Skeppy for a moment before speaking. “And you said my name was weird. What does that even mean?”

“Hey! You said I couldn’t ask about your name. No being a hypocrite, you hear me, Baldy?”

“I’m not bald!”

“Suuuuuuuure.”

“I’m not- ugh, whatever.” It was silent for a moment before Bad smiled at Skeppy again. “Good to formally meet you Skeppy. I just got one more question, are you the ghost who has been stealing my stuff?”

“Good to meet you too!” Bad raised an eyebrow at Skeppy and Skeppy let out a nervous chuckle. “No hard feelings about that though, right? I returned them all eventually.”

Bad sighed and smiled again. “I guess you did, but no more stealing.”

“No promises!”

“Skeppy!”

Skeppy laughed as Bad started getting worked up again. He knew this was different and wrong to most borrowers. But good thing he wasn’t most borrowers. And this wasn’t last time. Things could finally be different. Bad was different.

And surprisingly, or not, Skeppy was okay with this.

It was going to be alright.

[hybrid-in-progress]

9:15pm

Warnings: anxiety; worrying; paranoia; vivid imagination; descriptions of a horror story; frightened character; comfort; one kiss at the end (if there’s any warnings I forgot please let me know and I’ll add them)

A/N: I was feeling particularly low this evening and felt like I needed to write something. 9:15pm is when I felt low and my brain is too tired at the moment to come up with a better title. 

What happens to the main character, Alexandria, is something that has happened to me many times. My imagination, as proud of it as I am at times, can sometimes be my own personal hell. I’ve never read anything that deals with this, which has left me feeling really lonely and embarrassed because as people always say, “It’s just in your head”. I did not write this to upset anyone, it was just my way of getting something out that’s been digging a hole in my brain and heart for years now. I am so sorry if this has upset you and I hope you have a good rest of your day. Take care of yourself. 

I hope you don’t mind the tags, if you want to be removed let me know: @jarpad24, @natasha-romxnoff, @phoenixhalliwell, @whatafuckingdumbass 

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

***

I could faintly hear the music playing from my iPod next to me. I remember turning the volume up higher than usual, since I was the only one in the house and a particular song I liked was playing. What was the song called, again? God, c’mon Andy, it’s one of your favourites!

Madness by Ruelle, that’s it. 

As if tuning back into a radio, the music hits harder and louder on my ears and I feel my head swaying with the beat as a ribbon dancer comes to mind. Why is it always a ribbon dancer I imagine when listening to this song? 

I look down at the sketchbook in front of me, my hand lying limp on the paper with a pencil between my fingers. What to draw. what to draw, what to draw? My mind comes up with nothing interesting or concrete, only blurred things that I can’t really identify. How am I supposed to draw a blur, huh?

The blurs continue to dance in my head, slowly dragging me back into myself until I don't know where I am anymore. I can feel the bedsheets underneath my crossed legs and I can still hear the music, but it’s all very distant. Too distant. 

The blurs have a hold on me now, their shapeless forms gripping at all sides of my brain like dried glue. The view of my bedroom from my seat on the bed has blurred, too, though it’s staying back as if it’s scared of what’s in my head. 

My chest tightens and my breathing picks up, and I can feel a very small (barely there) lump beginning to form in my throat. It doesn’t do anything as usual. The lump doesn’t grow or stretch or rise, it just sits there at the hollow of my throat taunting me, tugging my heart gently but with enough pull to notice and irritate. 

The sudden urge to cry and ball my eyes out takes over, but no sting comes to my eyes to warrant tears. The lump in my throat doesn’t grow either, but I can feel my chest preparing itself for a sobbing fest. It’s like a pool is overflowing in my ribcage, spilling out over the bones and coursing over my muscles, trying to find a way out. 

My mouth is dry. My shoulders are slumped more than usual. I want to cry, I most likely need to. The blurs are still there in my head, floating amongst nothingness and contemplating what form to take. When they finally do decide my heart tightens and my throat goes raw. 

‘This is why you should always check under your bed for monsters-’

“-No.” The word comes out in a whisper as I clench my eyes shut. That horrifying story has been in my head for days; I’ve lost sleep over thinking about it!

I suddenly open my eyes again, terrified and half expecting a man with a knife like the one from the story to be peeking his head out from under my bed frame. I squirm at the thought, my wide eyes staring at the edge of the mattress expecting a jump scare like in the movies or video games. 

‘It’s there. It’s there. It’s there.’

I shake my head slightly to get rid of the thoughts, bringing my hands up to my chest and cradling them for comfort. 

‘It’s under the bed. It’s under the bed. It’s under the bed.’

“There’s nothing there.” I tell myself, my toes curling and tucking underneath my knees, “There’s nothing there.”

The lump in my throat has tripled in size now and I can feel it trying to push its way into my mouth. I let out a high pitched whine instead, my eyes narrowing to slits and never leaving the edge of the bed. My spine has gone cold and the back of my neck feels unbelievably exposed, making my bring my hands there to cover the skin. I turn my head to look over my shoulder and see if the man under my bed is behind me, waiting for me. 

He’s not there. I whip my head back around to see if he’s taken his chance to reveal himself in front of me, but he’s not there either. He’s nowhere. 

“Nothing is under your bed, Andy.” I tell myself, subconsciously rocking myself back and forth, “You’ve been in the house all day, there’s no way a fully grown man could break in and hide under your bed without you knowing. There’s nothing there.”

‘Are you sure?’

Another squeal leaves my lips and I curl in on myself even more, falling back against the pillows. I bring my shoulders up to my jaw to protect my neck, which feels like it’s about to collapse. My chest is heaving and forcing huffs and gasps out of my mouth, the occasional squirm and whine escaping with them. 

“You’re ok. You’re ok. You’re ok. You’re fine. You’re ok. You’re fine.”

My attempt at self comfort does nothing but swell the lump in my throat, forcing out another choked whimper. I’m pushing myself against the hard wooden headboard, trying to distance myself from the imaginary man under the bed. 

“Andy?” says a voice. 

I’m snapped out of my stare towards the edge of the bed and I look towards the bedroom door, where Desmond stands with his hand on the door handle. He looks worried, but not surprised. 

“Dez...” I say, the word coming out choked. 

Without hesitation he’s making his way over to me. He’s not coming at lightening speed, which I’m grateful for, but he’s not slow either. He approaches the bed at the same speed you’d approach an animal that was greatly hurt; cautious but determined and steady. 

My eyes flicker down to the edge of the bed, waiting for a hand to lurch out from underneath and grasp Desmond’s ankle. But it doesn’t happen. Instead, Desmond slowly and carefully crawls onto the bed and over to me, reaching out one of his hands as a silent question,

Can I touch you?

As an answer, I reach out both my arms like a child and instantly Desmond is falling into them, wrapping his own around my shoulders as he takes his place against the headboard next to me. I bury the side of my face into his shirt, clenching my eyes shut and letting tears fall. My cheeks are already a little wet but I don't care. 

A sob wracks my body and I cling to Desmond for dear life, trying my hardest to ground myself with the feeling of his arms around me, of the feel of his shirt in my fists, of the smell of him. He smells like his car, of the rain outside, and of something else which I’ve never been able to place but has always only come from him. 

We lay there like that for what feels like hours. My knees tucked up to my chest, my entire body shaking with sobs, and Desmond just sitting next to me, holding me as steady as a rock but still feeling as soft as a pillow. His heartbeat thrums against my ear from under his clothes, reaching out to me like a little guardian inside a hero. 

‘My hero. My guardian.’ 

Finally, the sobs turn into small gasps of breath, hiccups almost, and I feel my own heart calm down inside my ribcage, the overflowing pool being reined under control again. I let out a long sigh, feeling my entire body relax against Desmond’s. 

We sit in silence for a few minutes more, Desmond kissing my head and rubbing my back soothingly. The gesture almost restarts the tears. 

“Do you want a drink?” Desmond asks. 

My immediate thought is yes, but that would mean leaving the bed and the position that we’re in. I don’t want to leave this, just yet. So, I shake my head no. 

“In a bit.” I whisper, my voice not having the strength to speak any louder. 

“Okay... Do you want to talk about it?”

‘It’s so stupid.’

The lump in my throat, which has gradually been going down, decides to jump, threatening to rise again. I swallow harshly in an attempt to bury it. 

“It’s so stupid.” I rasp out, leaning my head into Desmond's chest even more, if that’s even possible. 

“It can't be stupid if it’s got you like this.” Desmond says, “Did you see another idiot on the internet again? Because those stupid shit-heads can make anyone cry at how hopeless they are.”

That gets a chuckle out of me, one that has my bones feeling like jelly with how tired I am. 

“Seriously, though, what is it Alexandria?”

“... I heard a stupid story a couple days ago... it was in an art tik tok I think... about how you should always look under your bed for monsters. It was about a woman who dropped her phone, then when she picked it up she saw a man under her bed, but he didn’t see her. She said to the person on the phone she was gonna take a shower, then hung up and went to the bathroom. She turned the shower on and then climbed out the window, then she called the police. When the cops arrived and arrested the guy inside her house, one of them came over to her and said that the guy was standing outside her bathroom door with a knife, waiting for her...”

I take a shuddering breath, a silent tear gliding down my cheek. Desmond doesn’t say anything, just waits silently for me to continue while holding me tight, his thumb rubbing up and down on my arm. 

“... That story’s been stuck in my head the past couple days since I saw it. Every time I’ve gone to the bathroom, whether you’re here or not, I’ve been terrified of seeing someone just standing outside the door waiting for me, or even around the corner. I’ve barely been able to sleep, always wondering or even expecting something to come out from under the bed to grab me. It’s so scary and it’s so stupid because it’s just a story but...”

I can’t continue to talk because the lump in my throat has returned. Sensing my discomfort, Desmond tightens his hold around me and pulls me into his chest, his lips pressing into the top of my head. Releasing his shirt, I grab one his hands in mine and bring it up to my chest, feeling comforted by the feeling of his fingers in mine and against the skin where my chest and neck meet. 

A few moments of silence pass before Desmond speaks, 

“You’re alright, Darling, I’ve got you. I’m here. You’re alright. Nothing can hurt you while I’m here. Besides, if any idiot did decide to break into our house you’d send them flying out the window like the spiders we find in summer.”

Once again I chuckle, my body jostling with Desmond’s. It’s true that every spider we find in this house, especially in the summer, either goes flying out the window or gets sucked up the vacuum cleaner if I see it. And those are only the lucky ones. 

“And nothing can even fit under our bed in the first place.” Desmond adds, earning yet another chuckle, a louder one this time. 

There truly is no room under the bed for anything, given with how many boxes there are filled with either family pictures, family nick-naks from holidays, a few Christmas decorations and some other stuff that can just be labelled ‘junk we refuse to throw out’. 

“Nothing is going to hurt you, my Darling.” Desmond says, planting another kiss atop my head, “Nothing is strong enough to.” 

“Thank you, Desmond.” I say, tilting my head up to to meet his beautiful eyes, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He cranes his head down to kiss the spot between my eyes, before looking at me with a smile and a determined knowledge gleaming in his eyes. 

“You’d survive.” He says, before finally leaning down and connecting our lips in a soft kiss.