#they wrote down their fears/concerns about their relationship going forward and burned them

[decisions-at-3am]

Writing down all my fears, Transferring their permanence. Containing them in paper. Folding it carefully. It's partly my delusion, Hoping they'll leave me be. Take a match, and let it catch. Watch those tongues of fire, Slowly devouring. Eventually it's all gone, As if it were never here. I'll collect the ashes, Use it to feed my garden.

[the-somewhat-rambling-reviewer]

Episode 3 Cherry Magic (Thailand)

Slightly edited.

One difference I like is how, in the Japanese version, Rokkaku was most attached to Kurosawa, and he started to admire Adachi once Kurosawa and Adachi started spending actual time together. Here, Rock has adopted Achi as his mentor right away.

However, there are times a show can have an episode (take Buckle Up from Scandal) or way aspects of a character are handled (like certain things involving Tara Graeme from Teen Wolf) or just a despisable character (Marc Antony from Rome, as one example) that I just can’t get over. I will be ranting about them years later on the internet.

Unfortunately, I think Rock running away at the suggestion Achi and Karan might be lovers last episode will be one of those things for this show. Someone pointed out it was likely him being heartbroken over his own failed relationship, and this does make sense, but I do think the show should have been clearer if this is what it was going for.

Maybe, the show will show something I really like about Rock that will ease this. For Rokkaku, I was relatively neutral about him until he was all, homophobe hurt my friend? Homophobe will regret it.

It was kind of funny how Rock was, hey, there a reason Achi is getting juice when everyone else is getting water?, but then, I remembered the running away, and I’m not sure Rock won’t show actual homophobia in later episodes.

Moving on, I’ve never experienced what Karan has, but I do feel sympathy for him. I can imagine that would suck, you find something, you like it, but then, everyone makes a big deal about how something that you’re just doing for fun should be something you should devote serious time and effort to. If you give it up, you give up something that was once fun, and people could express disapproval and/or disappointment over you depriving others of your talent, but if you don’t give it up, what was once joyful could cause resentment and, possibly, burn-out.

It’s always cool when Papang Phromphiriya Thongputtaruk pops up. He and Jan Ployshompoo Supasap both did awesome during their scene together.

Seeing Pai tell off her emotionally, borderline verbally, abusive ex off was awesome, and I’m glad she got to enjoy her bacon. Her offering to share with his new girlfriend was really sweet, but as someone who doesn’t like bacon, I’m just saying it might not have been fear of being scolded that had the new girlfriend decline. Emotionally abusive people target different parts of different people. It could have just been the new girlfriend doesn’t like bacon.

I loved the look on Achi’s face when he realised Karan was all, okay, semi-naked in a tub next to my crush, I will think religious thoughts now. And keep my eyes closed as much as possible. Religious thoughts.

It was sweet of the boss, Dujdao, to be concerned about Pai and to get a trustworthy male coworker to go with her.

There’s absolutely no indication of this, but I kind of imagine Karan sobering up a bit (originally, I wrote finding out, but upon rewatching the scene, he was there :headsmack:) and being all, ‘With all due respect, ma’am: What the f*ck. Yeah, I’m tracking them down before one or both of them get hurt.’

Not because he thinks either of them is weak, but because, as shown, they are vulnerable to physical attacks, and Achi, at least, has a tendency to inadvertently find himself in situations.

Are we sure Karan is actually a bad singer, or did he just decide to pretend to be one?

I could have missed something, but did Jinta’s place turn from an apartment to a house? Did he relocate from an apartment to a house?

I’m still not feeling the Jinta/Min subplot, but I didn’t particularly care for the Tsuge/Minato one either. At least, so far, Jinta hasn’t been as stalkerish as Tsuge was.

I’m looking forward to next episode.

[thekisforkeats]

Ooh jm + shy kiss for the prompts?

Ohhh good one! I had to think about this a little and actually wrote up a bunch that didn't quite work at first. But! Here it is!

Set somewhere in the first few minutes of 160, in those weeks between arriving at the safehouse and Hazel Rutter. Featuring autistic Martin trying to navigate social situations because that is evidently what I write now.

(Incidentally the term "weak ties" was coined by a Stanford researcher in 1973. Link to the relevant paper. Credit where due, and all.)

(No beta no edits we die like archive assistants.)

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It takes Martin a week to convince Jon to come down into the village with him.

If he's being honest with himself--and he's trying very hard to be honest with himself these days, so he can identify any Lonely-type thoughts--he really just wants to show off his boyfriend to the nice lady at the little shop in the village where he's been picking up essentials.

Martin is a naturally friendly person, or maybe a naturally personable person. This was not always the case; he had to practice a great deal to memorize all the scripts to smooth social interactions that other people seem to navigate without thinking about it at all. It can be horribly exhausting, just going to the shops. It's one of the reasons the Lonely appealed to him; how much easier to just move through life without having to recite all those canned lines?

Now that he's out of its grip, he's come to realize how much those interactions matter. He's been reading a lot on the internet about depression and social interaction, about social circles, and one thing that caught his eye is the idea of "weak ties," those people we're not exactly friends with, but who we see on a regular basis and who help us feel connected to a larger community. People who don't really know us and yet know something about us that helps us feel seen. The bus driver who gives you a familiar nod every morning. the barista who's prepping your order as soon as he notices you in line, the shop lady who tries to keep your favorite tea in stock.

So Martin is trying to cultivate those relationships, to feel part of a wider community, rather than just relying on Jon. He thinks that maybe if he'd had more of that, before, if he'd tried harder to go through the world being seen, he might have handled Jon's coma and his mother's death in some kind of healthier manner.

Maybe not, of course, but he's going to use any tool he can to keep the Lonely at bay.

At any rate, even beyond being very good at social scripts, Martin does genuinely like people, he's a good listener, for an autistic guy he's practically a social butterfly. And Elspeth is a nice lady, maybe mid-40's, the kind of person who runs a shop because she actually likes interacting with a stream of customers on a regular basis. So she's just the sort of person for Martin to practice his "weak tie" skills.

Because, naturally, one of the key benefits of "weak ties" is that they are the sort of people you get to be public about your relationship with when none of your closer friends are around.

Yeah, no, all of the above is just flimsy justification, if Martin's being really honest with himself. He's just madly in love and wants literally everyone within a 500-mile radius to know.

That morning, Martin makes a big show of how badly he wants to spend time with Jon, no really, but he really does have to go down into the village.

"We're out of tea!"

"I don't think we have anything for dinner!"

"But I really want to keep listening to you talk about Scottish history!"

And so on.

Jon gives him a tolerantly amused look, and Martin flushes. Is he that transparent, or is Jon just that good at reading him?

"I suppose I can go into the village with you, Martin," he says, eyes glittering. "Since you're so terribly interested in the House of Stuart. I'd hate to leave you wondering what happened to James II."

Martin would feel guilty, but he can tell Jon is pleased to be "indulging" him, and it's not like Martin hasn't been listening to Jon infodump about whatever random facts Beholding's been given him all week.

They hold hands all the way down into the village, and it's nice, to walk through the place and be seen, together. It's comfortable. They'd held hands on walks before, long ago in London, before the Unknowing, but back then they hadn't been sure what they were, hadn't managed to broach the delicate barrier between "friends" and "something else." Now, they're "boyfriends," and Martin keeps finding himself wanting to go up to each person he sees on the street and shout, "This is my boyfriend, Jonathan Sims!!"

By the time they reach Elspeth's shop, he's feeling a little giddy.

He pushes open the door and the little bell rings, and Elspeth looks up from behind the counter and smiles. "Martin!" she says, and Martin's whole body warms in a very pleasant manner, that this woman he's only known a week remembers him. "Oh, and this must be the elusive Jon." She gives them one of those teasing smiles people give to new couples, glittering eyes and amusement at the silly things people do when they're in limerence.

"Yes," Martin says, and suddenly the words stick in his throat. "Yes, this is... is... umm..." Oh, why has he suddenly frozen like a deer in headlights? Why can't he remember the right words?

"Jonathan Sims," Jon says smoothly, stepping forward to offer the woman his hand. "And yes, I'm Martin's boyfriend."

It occurs to Martin, all at once, that neither of them have said that out loud to anyone else. No wonder he's frozen up.

Elspeth glances at the burn scars on Jon's hand only briefly, then smiles--and it's a genuine smile, not one of those pitying ones people sometimes put on when they see scars like that--and shakes said hand. "Pleased to meet you," she replies. "Elspeth Douglas." She has the Highland accent, but softened; she spent her 20's and 30's in London, she's said, and came back to take over the family store when her father fell ill. The similarity might be part of why Martin likes her--that and the fact that it seems that helping her sickened parent improved her life.

"Ahh, yes. The not-so-elusive Elspeth." Jon actually flashes a grin, which Martin finds remarkable. Since when is Jon... friendly? Well, maybe he's trying for Martin's sake. If so, Martin very much appreciates the effort.

The woman behind the counter laughs, and says, "How can I help you?"

"Oh," Martin manages, his brain catching up and letting his mouth work again, "we're just here for tea and things."

"Of course," Elspeth says. "I'll be here when you're ready."

They turn away, to go deeper into the aisles.

"She seems nice," Jon says almost absently. "Shame about her fa--" He pauses, and frowns. Shakes his head, looking irritated. "You didn't tell me about that," he grumbles.

"No, I didn't. But thank you for trying to keep it in," Martin says.

Jon sighs, lowering his voice. "It's becoming harder and harder to separate what I've learned on my own from what Beholding gives me. How much of my thoughts are mine anymore? Did I actually memorize all those facts about the House of Stuart, or am I getting the... mental Wikipedia page, as it were?"

"Seems like a thing you'd know," Martin comments offhandedly. He's focused on figuring out what kind of rice to buy. He wants to try his hand at sticky rice, which really should have calrose, but Jon likes jasmine rice. Do they get both?

He doesn't want to think about Beholding, and how much of it is Jon anymore. He prefers just thinking about it as something like a smartphone app Jon can use without having to actually have a phone in front of him. He does not want to think about how much of his boyfriend has been potentially consumed by some kind of eldritch thing that feeds on fear.

He really doesn't want to think about the idea that maybe soon, Jon won't even need rice anymore, and will just live off statements, no matter how much he jokes about his partner's "eating habits."

Jon has been talking as Martin's been staring at the rice, but Martin hasn't heard any of it. He's brought back to himself by a squeeze of Jon's hand in his.

"Hey," Jon says softly. "You okay?"

In Jon's voice, Martin hears all the concern that Martin himself has been feeling. He forces himself to look at Jon, and sees bright green eyes staring out of a deep brown face. He realizes he's gotten used to the color of Jon's eyes; before the coma, Jon's eyes were brown, like a deep carnelian, and so large and dark sometimes Martin thought he could fall right into them and be happy drowning there. Now they're green, bright and disarming, and Martin's pretty sure this is why Jon still wears glasses he no longer needs, to hide those strange eyes behind plastic lenses.

Those eyes are looking up at him intensely now, and Jon's brow is furrowed, and his mouth is pulled into a frown in a way that highlights one of the worm scars near his lip, and all of it is adorable, but it's also disconcerting for the contrast between the softness of his voice and the intensity of his expression.

Is Jon as afraid of losing Martin to Forsaken as Martin is of losing Jon to Beholding?

Martin frowns at him for a moment, then sighs. "I just..." He has to look away, back to the bags of rice. "I just... don't like thinking about that. Beholding, and... all of it. I just... I just wish..."

"You wish we could be normal." Jon's tone is still soft, and filled only with love and no sort of guilt or self-recrimination.

"Yeah," Martin says, still staring at the rice.

There's a hesitation, and then Jon says, softly and slowly, "You know... normal people deal with these sort of difficult things, too. There's so much out there that can hurt people... the things we deal with, they're weirder than most of the rest of it, but..."

"Yeah, I know, Jon, I just..." Martin hunches his shoulders. "Don't want to lose you again," he finally mumbles.

Jon hesitates a moment, and then he leans in to give Martin a soft kiss on the cheek.

Martin flushes bright red--Elspeth's right there!--and turns to stare at Jon. "W-what... what was... that for?!"

Jon, too, is blushing. "I just... ah... I just... wanted you to know that... that I'm... here. You haven't... lost me. Or anything."

"Oh," Martin says. "Well. Thank you."

There's a moment where they just look at each other, and then Jon blurts, "...Can I kiss you again? It's just, I haven't all morning, and I really sort of wanted to spend the morning cuddling, but you wanted to come down to the shops..."

"Here?!" Martin stares at him.

"We can go behind the shelves if you like," Jon says, blushing furiously.

For some reason, this makes Martin giggle, and then he leans down to brush his lips to Jon's. Softly, shyly, as if they haven't been kissing each other all week, because he really is terribly aware of the fact that there are other people around.

"Tell you what," Martin says as he pulls back, surprisingly breathless despite how short the contact of their lips was, "let's finish up the shopping and then we can cuddle all afternoon."

Jon smiles up at him. "Promise?" The smile widens. "You're not going to drag me around to introduce me to every villager individually?"

"I was not--!" Martin glares at him, but now Jon's smile has become one of those shit-eating grins he gets sometimes, and Martin can't stay mad at him at all.

"You knew," he accuses, but there's no heat in it.

"I had a hunch," Jon says, humming. "I didn't want to spoil your fun, though."

Martin rolls his eyes, and then reaches out to take Jon's hand again. "Well, then, we'd better get to it. Jasmine or calrose? Rice, I mean."

"Both, I think," Jon says. "I find myself very much desiring normality of late, and rice is a terribly normal sort of thing."

[troublesometrollhunters]

Zouxie (Zoe X Douxie)

Merry Christmas and Happy Secret Santa to a fellow T.O.A fan! For you @dreamsarelikedragonflies!!! You asked for any Wizards content particularly Zouxie or Jlaire so I wrote a little Zouxie Snow fluff thing and made a fun asesthtic for our favourite punk wizards! :D

~~~

 Douxies breathing was heavy as he rushed through the woods cutting through them to get to the park. Leaves brushed past him smacking his face as roots snagged at his shoes tripping him as he ran forward. His breathing came out in deep huffs as he raced to where he was heading.

  Archie who'd been on his shoulder had hoped off after the ravenette hadn't been careful and he'd gotten a faceful of leaves. The familiar was now flying next to his charge, avoiding difficult obstacles the forest provided as he weaved around the trees and low hanging branches. Douxie cursed at his own impulsiveness speeding up. She was gonna lose her cool one of these days and it was going to cost him his relationship. Archie seemed to always be warning him about how if he kept diving headfirst into danger especially on date night it was gonna bite him. Sadly the dragon was right as always.

   After closing down the café something had caught his eye and he had to investigate. Well together, Archie and him had found a growing nest of shadow mephits. They'd blasted the poor creatures apart, sending the whole nest back to the netherworld but it took way longer than expected. And now, now Douxie feared something far scarier. 

 He was late. He was late. He was late. He was late again and Zoe was going to kill him. Bursting out of the woods stumbling through a bush he catches himself. Dirt and leaves covered his hoodie making him hiss. Archie landed on his shoulder licking his hair grooming him and Douxie had no doubt that twigs were stuck in his ponytail. Sighing as Archie tried to clean him up he didn't care about appearances. It's not like Zoe did either, at the moment he was way more concerned with the time than his disheveled looks. Still heaving out air trying to catch his breath he paused to look around the clearing. Unable to speak full sentences yet he snaps his fingers pointing up.

 "Archie..." Douxie begs his friend and the dragon nods launching himself off the wizards shoulder. Looking around frantically for his pink haired girlfriend Archie soars above the trees searching for her as well. Distracted with finding her he didn't hear the footsteps sneaking up behind him. Stiffening as he feels a hard smack and muttering an owww, he turns quickly and sees her. It was Zoe.

  Relief crosses his features as he does his best to catch his breath so he can muster an apology. Opening his mouth she holds out a hand as she frowns at him. Her fingers are warm and looking at Zoe a spark of electricity zapped over his lips making him blush. He smiles but she's not in the mood. 

 "You're late." She states putting a hand on her hip and glaring up at him. Douxie chuckles nervously before swallowing at the intense look. He was happy Zoe hadn't gone home even if she was mad at him. If she'd left before he got to explain she'd be pissed for days. If he could get a word in hopefully she'd rage but then probably forgive him by tomorrow. The second option was more appealing but from the look on her face explaining could make the situation so much worse. Trying to think of what to say Douxie scratches the back of his head fishing out a stick from his ponytail. He tosses it aside and meeting Zoes burning blue eyes he blushes. 

 "I'm here now?" He asks with a playful laugh trying to lighten the mood but Zoe looks unamused. She flicks a leaf out of his hair and raises a brow scanning his messy form. "I can explain." He states defensively as he holds up his hands smiling at her.

 She rolls her eyes uninterested and begins walking away arms crossed.

 "Wait! Wait!" Douxie begs following closely behind as Zoe starts stalking away. 

 "Your burger was getting cold and I got hungry so I ate it." Zoe says pausing to vent her frustration. He notices a crumpled up bag sticking out of the nearby bin and sighs. He had a feeling she had waited way longer than usual if she dug into his food. Or maybe him being late made her spiteful so she tore into the burger trying to calm down. They weren't always the best at talking things out but they were working on it and honestly anything from her was a relief at the moment. As she huffed at him facing away from him arms crossed he signs. 

 "Zoe... Snow?" Douxies about to explain himself. Plead his case that a hoard of shadow mephits had jumped out at him after his shift and distracted him from coming but he noticed white flakes falling from the sky. As they landed the stark white against Zoes pink hair couldn't be ignored. What was snow doing in California? It was chilly sure but it wasn't even cold enough for his breath to show. How was there snow? 

 "What are you blubbering on about?" Zoe demands turning to yell at him some more. Her blue eyes flash pink as she glares at him about to give Douxie an earful but his own green brown eyes are soft as he steps closer. Zoes breath catches in her throat as Douxie stops in front of her. She looks up at him flustered before he reaches out. He brushes something out of Zoe's hair, his brows furrowed. Her flustered expression changes to shock, her eyes widening as she sees white flakes on his fingers before they melt away. 

 "... Snow?" She mumbles. Looking up the wizards noticed the night sky had become much darker as gray clouds rolled in. They'd been so distracted talking to each other they hadn't even noticed. It seemed someone had been messing around with weather spells, this couldn't be a natural snow storm. Not in the climate or this time of year.  

 "Well love we can argue later I think we have more pressing issues to deal with." Douxie states seeing that the flakes were getting thicker as the snowfall became heavier. The storm was fast approaching and there was a dark presence in the air. Hands glowing Douxie nudges Zoe behind him worried as Archie flies down. 

 per the dragon had perched on a nearby tree to give them some privacy but the snow brought him back. 

 "Yeah that's a no brainer fuzzbuckets. Now why the heck is there about to be a freak blizzard in California?" Zoe questions nose crinkling as she turns towards the storm clouds. She never really liked cold weather.

   The snow becomes heavier and soon the wind follows blowing endless white their way. Zoe shivers not dressed for this but Douxies attention shifts from her as Archie hisses lowly. His familiar had never liked snow either but seeing it was magically summoned and probably deadly put the dragon more on edge. 

 "What is it Arch?" Douxie asks softly. Archies claws dig into Douxies jacket as he tenses. He takes a deep sniff of the air before beginning to morph into a much bigger form, clinging tightly to Douxie. His hackles raise as he begins to hiss lowly tail swinging back and forth in aggression as his eyes narrow.

 "Ice giants." He growls.

 "Ice giants? Here?" Zoe questions unsure. Maybe it was just a freak snow spell?

 Suddenly a blue foot comes crashing down from behind a building rattling shop windows and making cars shake before their alarms go off. A creature of ice and snow it stood thirteen feet tall with a tattered kilt to cover it's blue tinted legs and a long icicle club.

 "Here." Archie responds hissing low in his throat. Everyone pauses watching as the ice giants begin to multiple as they walk towards them. At least the creatures were mostly away from people and in an open clearing, if they made a plan together they could take them down without causing too much damage.

 "Okay Zoe we need-" Douxie starts but she's not listening. 

 "Well let's do this!" Charging excited for a fight, electricity explodes from Zoe's hands as she shoots an ice giant in its chest. The pink lightning that explodes from her fingertips gives the park a bright glow before it zaps the giant making it crumble harmlessly into snow. Douxie shakes his head forcing himself to stop watching his girlfriend as another monster attacks and he follows Zoes lead.

 "Be careful love!" He calls worried but Zoe was doing just fine melting and exploding the giants. Snow rained down around her bouncing pink light off her face as she shot her magic. The beasts crumpled before her and Douxie was starstruck by her power and brute determination.  

 As he stares at Zoe enamoured Archie swipes at his face.

 "Pay attention to the battle Hisirdoux!" He scolds and Douxie nods. As Archie spits a fireball Douxie amplifies the spells power, melting several of the giants. Standing back to back with Zoe her hands glow pink as his burn blue. He looks at the frost creatures that were slowly surrounding them. 

 "Who could've sent them?" Archie asks as Douxie blasts one of them back. Zoe shrugs, zapping another giant that got too close. Icy wind blew back her hair and she hissed sniffling at the cold. 

 "Maybe they're lost?" Zoe asks before she gives Douxie a sharp shove and dodges a giant club. Douxie smiles at her happy for the save but Zoe ignores him. She shoots electricity at the ice monster that had tried to squish her and it becomes a flurry of snow as she breathes in. Taking that as a hint to find out what's happening and keep fighting rather than apologizing Douxoe noticed the creatures looked similar to golems which might explain why they collapsed into snow once struck. They didn't seem like snow spirits but rather controlled creatures. 

 "Maybe but it's more likely they were summoned!" Douxie responds. He taps his bracelet searching for another powerful fire rune hoping to burn them all down and be done with it. "Besides Ice giants don't like leaving their territory! Someone must of brought them here!" Well that's what he assumed at least. Last time he fought Ice Giants he was in Sweden a couple hundred years ago looking for some ancient texts. As far as he knew Ice giants never came out this far and they didn't just dissolve away like this.

 "DUCK!" Snapping back to attention Douxie huffs as he sees the crater that was almost him. Looking at Zoe wanting to apologize first for missing their date and now this mess she's already on the other side of the battle field trying to lead the ice creatures into the forest away from all the easily damaged park and innocent street shops. 

 "Zoe I-" He calls but she's only focused in the fight. 

 "Hisirdoux!" Archie calls and Douxie turns eyes wide. Bringing up his arms to defend himself unable to cast a shield in time, the hairs on his arms stand up. 

 "HEY! ONLY I GET TO HURT HIM!" 

A pink blast of 1000 volts of electricity were shot over Douxies head directly at the ice giants heart. The magic made contact and it exploded into a million pieces sending ice and snow everywhere. 

 "Thanks Zoe-" Douxie says smiling but Zoe isn't having it as she cuts him off. 

 "DON'T BE A DUMMY FOCUS ON THE FIGHT!" She orders before turning and facing the Giants that were slowly cornering her. Douxie nods. He turns towards his own foes and the fight goes on. 

~~~

About an hour later and they had won. The last few flakes of snow fluttered around them as the ice giants began to melt away. They didn't know who sent these creatures but they were taking care of themselves and nothing seemed to be amiss. Panting heavily Douxie smiled at Zoe who'd saved his ass during that fight more than once. 

 "I'd just like-" He starts wanting to apologize for all of this but Zoe wasn't having it. He guess he deserved the cold shoulder all things considered.

 "Hey dork?" Turning to face Zoe she grabbed his hoodie before pulling him into a kiss. Melting into it, like the snow was doing around them he leaned in cupping Zoes face. She smiles eyes tinged pink like her cheeks from the overuse of magic. Closing his eyes humming happily as he continues Zoe pulls away breathless. Laughing softly she leans into his chest hugging him tight and Douxie tucks her head under his chin as they take a moment to breathe.

  Pulling away far too quickly for Douxie's taste she smiles walking back towards the town. He blinks as he realizes the kiss was a distraction and she'd snagged his hoodie. "You're buying the burgers this time! I'm starving thanks to that little squable." She states taking out his wallet from his jacket pocket. Douxie shakes his head following after his mischievous girlfriend who'd seemed to forgiven him.

   Archie purrs looking up at Zoe and Zoe smiles scooping the familiar into her arms and cooing. "And your getting a treat for Archie too." She adds nuzzling the cat. Archie makes pleased sounds and curls up in her arms adoringly. Douxie chuckles smiling at Zoe as he follows her.

 "Deal. Oh and Zoe?" Zoe hums in response and Douxie steals a quick kiss on her cheek. "Love ya." He states before running off to where the burger shack was. 

 "WHY YOU LITTLE!" Chuckling as he keeps running he smiles, frostbitten but happy. He loved her more than she'd ever know. 

[bubblesuga]

Leave Me Lonely

A/N: I’m mad so here’s some angst that turned into smut :)

Prompt: The reader broke up with Yoongi six months ago. Just as she feels like she’s able to move on, he pops up on her doorstep with watery eyes and whiskey laced breath.

Warnings: alcohol, angsty yoongi, cussing, crying, squirting, unprotected sex (don’t do this), mentions of Plan B, oral (F receiving), riding, yoongi and the reader are a mess and don’t know what to do 

Yoongi didn’t know what he was doing here, or how he ended up here. He just knew that he drank a little too much, and his feet carried him from the bar to here. 

Your apartment. 

He could navigate his way here with his eyes closed, which he practically did because he had no idea how he got here. The alcohol running through his veins was thanks in part to the lovely members in his band, insisting on celebrating their comeback with a lot of drinks and food. Unfortunately for him, that also meant that the alcohol was breaking down a barrier that he built up months ago when the two of you broke up. 

It burned. He already had frustrated tears in his eyes just staring up at your balcony, debating whether or not it was actually worth it to walk up the stairs and knock on your door. 

Sober Yoongi would stop him. Sober him would rationalize the break up, saying that there was no reason to bother you and that you more than likely had already moved on with your life especially with how quickly you managed to cut him off. 

Drunk Yoongi is a different story though. Drunk Yoongi is mad that you left him so easily, seemingly unscathed by putting him through one of the worst things he had ever experienced. Drunk Yoongi is upset that you left when he needed you most, when you were the one thing holding him up from barreling into a whirlwind of depression and anxiety. Drunk Yoongi is sad, because sober him loves you still. 

Annoyed, Yoongi reaches up and wipes the tear that slipped from his eye. Namjoon was probably already looking for him, and he knew that he should get back before the cops were called, but with ever step backward he was taking two steps forward until he eventually found himself gripping the railing of the stairs. 

“Fuck.” He mutters to himself, taking one last glance downward before he began his ascent up the stairs. 

The third floor seemed to take way longer to get to than before. Maybe it was the way his feet collided with the edge of every step or his hand having to constantly catch himself from stumbling backward. Through the perseverance of his stubborn mind, he made his way up the stairs and with out thinking about it twice, he knocked on your door. 

Well, pounded. He pounded on your door. 

“(Y/N),” he whined, his voice husky, “please open up.” 

The pounding turned to gentle taps when he felt his eyes grow heavy, leaning his face against the door while his finger nails tapped against the door. 

Just as he was about to give up, to stumble his way back down the stairs and forget that this whole thing happened by morning, he felt the weight of the door shift and before he knew it, he was on the ground in the doorway of your apartment. 

“Yoongi?!” You yell, stepping backward when you heard the thud of his body hitting the ground. 

Yoongi groans loudly, picking himself up off the ground, “Your apartment is cold.” 

You roll your eyes, “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

Yoongi could already tell that this was a mistake. Okay, maybe he knew that it was a mistake before but his internalized fight with himself was much too loud for him for him to comprehend anything that was actually happening. 

“I-” he groans as he grabs his head, “I wanted to see you.” His eyes traveled up from the floor to your face. You still looked the same, but now you had lighter hair and it was longer than before. Your face was still the same though, the concerned curve of your brow still rested above your eyes whenever Yoongi did something stupid. God damn, though, you were still just as beautiful. 

“Why? Why on Earth would you think that coming here was okay, Yoongi?” 

Even your voice was the same. The way your lips pursed and the curve of your tongue while you scolded him was still the same. It hit him, the familiarity of you was the reason he was here. He spent so much of his 20s traveling the world that the concept of having a ‘home’ was indescribable. His home was you, because everywhere he went he had you to lean back on, the scent of your Strawberry conditioner in his nostrils and your laughter filling his ears. 

“Because I miss you.” Yoongi shrugged, plopping onto the couch. Your jaw dropped, throwing your hands up in the air as you kicked the door closed. It was close to midnight, you had work in the morning, and you had your ex-boyfriend sat on your couch with red-rimmed eyes. 

“We’re broken up.” You whisper, sitting opposite of him and allowing your face to fall into your hands. 

“Why?” He questions. 

“Why what?” 

“Why are we broken up?” Yoongi’s eyebrow raised in question, his hands clasped together in front of him. His mouth was dry while looking at you, the feeling of having you close yet again was somewhat overwhelming. 

“I told you,” you clench your jaw, “your life was too hectic for me. I couldn’t keep up, I just wanted a sense of normalcy.” 

“Normalcy?” Yoongi scoffs, his earlier anger returning, “You want fucking normal? You think I asked for all this shit to be thrown at me? That’s fucking laughable, that you think I wanted this.” 

“Yoongi, I-” 

“No, let me talk for once,” he stands, throwing his hands around wildly, “you walked out on me because you wanted to be normal? How fucking boring.” 

You swallowed, the sting of his words setting in while you stared at the floor.

“What happened to the woman I fell in love with when we were 20 years old? Where did she go? She was willing to go on every adventure with me, she was there for me when I spent hours upon hours recording and re-recording songs that I wrote, about her might I add, and came home exhausted. She was the one who helped me navigate fame!” Yoongi was yelling now. Although it had been six months without you, his anger was just as futile. He hadn’t allowed himself to feel anything in so long. 

“And what about me?” You spoke quietly, your eyes not leaving the floor. 

“What do you mean, what about you?” Yoongi’s fists clenched and the stench of whiskey was far stronger than you realized before. 

“Well, you sat there saying all the things I did for you. How I was your rock, and I helped you with everything. What about me, Yoongi? You were so caught up in your own feelings that you never stopped to think about how it was affecting me. To be entirely honest,” your nails dug into the palms of your hands while you were trying to prevent yourself from getting in his face, “it was exhausting to try and help you through it while never having any help myself. A relationship is a two way street, and you seem to forget that part.” 

Yoongi was quiet again, sitting back down slowly on the couch while an emotion you couldn’t read was on his face. Immediately, he brought his nails up to his teeth, gnawing anxiously at them. Fuck, he thought, I’m an idiot. 

“Well?” You gesture to him, your eyebrows raised.

He didn’t respond. 

“I don’t even now why I’m entertaining this conversation. I’ll let you crash on my couch tonight but I want you out once your sober enough to get home. I’m going to sleep.” You speak, standing up from the ottoman. You went to your closet and grabbed a pillow and blanket, taking it out to Yoongi who still sat in the same position you left him in a few moments ago. 

Placing the pillow at the edge of the couch, you couldn’t help but feel your heart hurt for the man beside you. You knew that navigating the world of the suddenly famous was difficult, you watched it happen for years, and it took a toll on you as well. You were mentally exhausted, and you never felt like you could talk to Yoongi about your problems because his seemed to be so much more. You felt foolish if anything to try and compare your co-worker yelling at you to Yoongi’s legs giving out from practicing for 12 hours straight. 

Wordlessly, you pat the pillow to soften it, giving him one last glance and turning away while you heard the crack of his teeth biting into a nail. Old habits die hard. 

~*~*~

Yoongi tried his hardest to sleep, but when six in the morning rolled around, he realized there was no use. 

Leaning over to the notebook on the table beside the couch, he flipped to an open page and began writing. If there was anything he was good at, it was putting his words to paper. 

It felt like he was writing for hours, his mind clouding over with thoughts of you as he wrote. Sober now, he had the ability to properly reflect on the words that you were saying last night. It was difficult to discern last night. He was listening, and he heard every word, but he couldn’t get passed the tone that you were using. It was so mature, like you had aged mentally in the six months more than you had in the entirety of your relationship. He feared that he was the one holding you back from your full potential. 

After what seemed like ages, he placed the pen on top of the open notebook on your coffee table, and stood. His feet took a moment to carry him out the door, but he made sure to lock it as he left, hoping you wouldn’t just throw away the note without reading it. 

It didn’t take long for you to wake up after that, stretching your limbs before remembering the events of last night. Quickly, you hopped out of bed and rushed to the living room, scanning the area of the slept in empty couch. 

You sighed, but you weren’t sure if it was in relief or disappointment. Despite everything that happened last night, you still thought it was nice to see him. You had yet to admit it to anyone but yourself, but you missed him. 

You walked towards the coffee table, grabbing the notebook curiously and beginning to read. 

I’m sorry. 

It’s probably better for me to start it off like that than with anything else. I’m an idiot, and I’m so sorry for that. I was so caught up in everything happening that I never stopped to take the time to see how it may be affecting you. Sure, I wasn’t the only one experiencing this at the time so I wasn’t alone, but I felt so alone when I wasn’t with you. 

I used you as a shoulder to cry on, and you didn’t use me. I had no idea you were so hurt, and that’s my fault. You were my partner, you are the love of my life. I should have pulled my head out of my ass long enough to see that you needed me just as much as I needed you. 

I’m in no way trying to excuse my behavior. I’m just trying to explain my side of things. I’m in a better place now, as far as coping with fame goes. I don’t find it to be such a disaster anymore, I’m more comfortable with what fate has laid out for me. Well, everything but being away from you. I’m still working on trying to handle that.  

Thank you for letting me stay here. It warms my heart a little bit to know that you still care about me in some way and didn’t just throw me out on the street.

Although I know I was in the wrong here, I do hope you can forgive me. Even if you never talk to me again, I just want me to be one less thing that had you scorned. 

I still love you Yoongi.

You dropped your head once you were done reading, pinching the bridge of your nose. The sight of his handwriting alone made you emotional. You remembered seeing his scribbles on post it notes strewn across your apartment and his studio of random topics to write songs about. You always found his handwriting endearing. 

Taking in the words on the page, you re-read his sign off more times than you’d like to admit, your chest aching more and more with each time. 

“Fucking Yoongi,” you groan out into the empty room, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, then standing abruptly to get ready for work. 

As you showered, your mind was racing with thoughts of Yoongi. Of course you still loved him as well, but after careful consideration all those months ago, you realized it was better for you to take a bit of time for yourself and your mental health. 

Last night you were angry, and you said some things that weren’t entirely true. Yes, Yoongi did help you out when you were down from time to time. It just felt like your entire existence was spent helping Yoongi that it overshadowed the times he helped you. 

Admittedly you did leave him abruptly. The break up was filled with ‘I’m sorry’s and ‘It’s not you, it’s me’s. You told yourself that you had to get out then otherwise you knew you wouldn’t be able to do it. 

Being without him was so hard for so long, now that you felt like you were in a place where he wasn’t on your mind constantly, he pops up on your doorstep. He looked so damn good, too. Black hair (a stark contrast to the reddish brown you saw him in the day you broke up), black shirt and white jeans. He looked thinner, something that you always worried about with him, but he was still the same Yoongi that you love. 

His face didn’t leave your mind the entire day. The red-rimmed dark brown irises staring up at you in shock as you spewed on about your bullshit reasoning for leaving him. The way he just sat there and took it. The way he looked so defeated when you turned off the light and left him on your couch in the dark. 

After you got off of work, you sat in your car, staring at your phone. 

The contact name was changed from “Yoongles <3″ to just “MinY” a few months ago, something that it took you far too long to do. You couldn’t bring yourself to delete the contact, just in case. 

Sighing, you opened your messaging app and began typing. 

You: are you at genius lab right now? 

MinY: Yes. Please don’t come visit out of pity. 

You rolled your eyes, gnawing at your lip.

You: just let me come see you, dumbass. 

It took him a moment to reply, but when he did you unlocked your phone faster than you ever had before. 

MinY: ok. the passcode is the same.

The drive went by a lot quicker than you had anticipated. When you pulled into the parking lot of BigHit studios, anxiety filled you to the brim. Why were you doing this? What encouraged you to suddenly come here? How was staff going to react to you prancing back in there like you had so many times before? 

Clenching your keys tightly in your hand, you stared at the doors and continued to debate whether or not this was worth it. 

You had no clue what you were going to say, but you had to see him. 

Walking inside, you made it to the elevator successfully with no questions asked. Pressing the top floor button, the elevator stopped midway through and in walked Jimin. 

He didn’t seem to notice it was you at first, walking in while staring at his phone and noticing that the button was already pushed. He glanced your direction to see who needed to go to the top floor, his eyes going wide and his jaw dropping. 

“Wh- what are you doing here?” Jimin stuttered, shock washing over him in rolls. 

“I’m here to talk to Yoongi.” You say simply, clearing your throat and trying to avoid his eyes. You couldn’t help but feel like he must be mad at you for hurting his friend. 

Jimin didn’t speak again, only allowing you to walk out of the elevator and down the hall. Your eyes stayed on the floor, your arms crossed over your stomach in the process. You knew that people recognized you, but you just couldn’t face them before you talked to Yoongi. 

Yoongi was never one to be vocal about stuff, and you knew your break up never hit the media, but you couldn’t help but feel like everyone within the company was well aware of what happened. 

Stepping up to the door, muscle memory kicked in and before you could hesitate any longer, you were punching in the pass code and listening to the door unlock. 

You had walked into this scene many times before. Yoongi was sat in front of his piano, headphones on his head, his eyes closed as his fingers played silently across the keys. He was always so focused. 

Seeing this room again had images of you bringing in take out many times and massaging his shoulders while you told him to relax playing through your head. You glanced carefully at the black leather couch in the corner, unable to count how many times you and Yoongi had made love on there.

He still didn’t notice you, opening his eyes and scratching notes across the music sheets. You walked behind his chair silently, putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling away quickly once you felt him jump. 

“Jesus fucking-” he turned and met your eyes, his facial expression softening immediately, “-sorry I thought you were Jungkook.” 

“It’s okay.” It was quiet. Both of you were just puddles of anxiety, and Yoongi’s eyes searched yours for any ounce of pity, but there was none. He couldn’t figure out why you wanted to come here, and it took every piece of him not to begin panicking when he initially saw your text. 

He knew if he looked directly into the eyes of his bandmates, he would tell them everything in a panic and they would try to talk him out of saying you could come here. 

“Still looks the same.” You say suddenly, looking around the studio. The shelves of plushies from fans made you smile, he always tried to keep everything that was given to him. You noticed that the mannequin holding the Chicago Bulls jersey now had a BT21 hat sat on top of it, with various chains dangling from it’s neck. Whether Yoongi liked to admit it or not, he took pride in the way his studio looked. 

“Yeah,” he inhales, “I like the aesthetic. Makes it feel like home.” 

Making conversation with Yoongi had always come to easily before. Now that you hadn’t seen him in half a year, it felt tense. Not necessarily awkward, you knew if the circumstances were different you two could talk for hours whether it be about songs he’s writing or projects you’re working on. He just kept looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something. 

When your eyes trailed along his desk, you saw the photographs lining along the side. They were mostly Polaroids of him and his bandmates, except for one framed picture of the two of you when you first began dating. 

The picture was taken on one of your many visits to the dorm, Yoongi’s arms wrapped tightly around you while he looked down at your sleeping figure. You knew Namjoon took the picture, and later teased Yoongi immensely for the amount of love and adoration in his eyes while you slept soundly with him so close to you. 

You haven’t slept that well since you broke up. 

Yoongi spotted where your eyes were staring, reaching over and putting the picture face down. Silently, he saw the pained look in your eyes as he did so, swallowing and slowly placing it back up. 

“W- why?” You asked softly, his expression unreadable while he stared down at the floor. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I still love you.” He didn’t look at you when he spoke, so your eyes went back to the photograph. 

Even in your sleep, your fingers clutched his arm around you, never wanting him to let go. Despite always feeling like he wasn’t there for you the way that you were there for him, you realized in that moment that his love language was different than yours. He silently supported you, loved you, cherished you. It was different from past relationships so you weren’t sure how you could see the signs. 

All this time, he was there for you in his own way, and you were too blind to see that.

You didn’t break your gaze away from the photograph until you felt a single tear slip from your eye. You moved quickly to wipe it away, but Yoongi had already seen. 

Normally he’d rush to comfort you, to pull you in his arms and allow you to cry it out on his shoulder, but he couldn’t right now. You weren’t his to comfort. 

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper softly, meeting his burning gaze. 

Again, he was unreadable. He only soaked in your words silently, before tossing his head back, “Why are you sorry?” 

“Because I didn’t see that you were there for me, just in your own way.” Another tear fell from your eyes. Yoongi had seen you cry before, but rarely. Every time, it was silent. He’d never seen sobs rack your body like you had seen him, but even this was enough to be jarring. 

“So I guess we were both a bit stuck in our own worlds, huh?” Yoongi spoke up after a moment, allowing you to silently soak in his words. 

It’s true. You were both so caught up in trying to navigate your own feelings that helping each other almost felt like a chore. Although you wanted to help each other, when your anxieties get overbearing it just makes it that much more difficult. 

“Past tense?” Your eyes were still on the picture. 

“Past tense for me. As I mentioned before, I’m in a better place than I was before, again besides the not having you around part.” He explains, suddenly feeling a little more relaxed than before. His nails weren’t being gnawed at constantly, instead his hands rested in his lap, clutched together. 

“I-” you begin, swallowing a choked sob, “I thought I was doing better without you.”

You could read Yoongi’s expression again. Sympathy crossed his brows, his eyes beginning to shine over with unshed tears while he watched you cover your mouth in an attempt to quiet your cries. It took everything in him not to reach forward and pull you into his arms. 

Then he couldn’t stop himself. 

Sliding his chair closer to yours, he hesitates for a moment before pulling you forward and into his arms. 

You fell into them so easily, your head falling onto his shoulder while your legs moved to straddle his thighs. He held you tightly, inhaling your scent while silent sobs racked your body.

“I’m so sorry,” you cry into his neck, “I’m so stupid.” 

All of your thoughts were a jumbled mess. You wanted to tell him that you didn’t properly think through leaving him, you wanted to tell him that you were so caught up in your own mind that you were being selfish. You wanted to shout it from the rooftops that you were the idiot who broke Min Yoongi’s heart, but your tongue wouldn’t form the words you so desperately wanted to say. 

“No you’re not, baby,” he strokes your back, “I did the same thing, remember? Our early 20s were a weird time for the both of us. We couldn’t expect perfection when we both had a lot of growing up to do still.” 

“You’re always so good with your words.” You pull away from his neck, noticing your tears on his shirt. Yoongi reached up and wiped away the wetness on your face with his thumbs. A sad, somber smile rested on his lips. It was the same one he had when you left him.

The memory makes more tears begin to fall. 

“P- please forgive me.” You whisper softly. 

“Oh baby,” Yoongi pulls you back in for another hug, “there’s no need to forgive each other because there’s nothing to forgive. We’re grown more as people, and we can both admit our mistakes.”

“I love you.” You breathe. 

Though it was something you said routinely when you were with him, it felt foreign on your lips to say again. 

“I love you too.” Yoongi responds, his hands stroking the back of your head. 

Then he pulls you down to him. You feel excitement rush through your body at the thought of his lips on yours again, but instead he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

“What does this all mean?” You ask. 

“I don’t know yet,” Yoongi right now was such a contrast to last night. He was much more composed than before, and you no longer smelled whiskey on him, “I feel like we shouldn’t try to define what’s happening to us right now. If we hop into something too quickly, it won’t end well. I just know I want you in my life in some way.” 

You nod, wiping your nose. You took this as his way of saying that you were too close right now, so as you went to crawl off of his lap, his hands flew to your thighs and for the first time since you entered the room, his eyes seemed pleading. 

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you on me right now,” his fingers dug into your hips, “this is the first time I’ve touched you in so long. Please let me savor it.” 

Wordlessly, you move your hands to his wrists, guiding them up the sides of your body until they reached your cheeks. You embellish the feeling of his hands on your face, closing your eyes for a moment. 

His fingers were so long. You couldn’t help the images of his fingers knuckle deep in your heat flashing through your head. You opened your eyes to meet his, silently hoping he would begin to touch you again. You didn’t realize how starved for touch you were, but only his touch. 

Yoongi’s hands slipped off your face, trailing down your chest softly until he palmed both of your breasts in his large hands. You tossed your head back at the feeling, your tears long forgotten as you silently thanked yourself for wearing a thin bra today. 

“Do you want this?” He questions, his hands still kneading you. You looked down at him, unable to form words as you nodded. 

Yoongi moved his his hands underneath your shirt, slipping it over your head to expose your bra-clad chest. The minute your shirt was over your head, you couldn’t take it anymore. You gripped his face in your hands and slammed your lips onto his. 

The kiss was filled with so much need, but was also a silent apology. Yoongi was just as greedy as you were, his tongue darting out and into your mouth the moment you gasped at the feeling of him tugging at your nipples. 

The chair was too small for the two of you, so you tugged softly on the collar of his shirt to follow you to the couch. His lips didn’t leave yours as you moved, his hands unhooking your bra in the process and tossing it haphazardly. 

Yoongi fell on top of you when the back of your knees hit the couch, careful to catch his weight but unable to ignore how hard the sight of you shirtless in front of him was making him. Instinctively, he ground his hips into your spread legs, allowing you to feel him through the thick material of his jeans. 

“Please.” 

Yoongi took your plead as permission to slip your skirt and panties off of your hips. The sweet smell of your arousal immediately filled his nostrils. He thought he would burst through his zipper at the sight of you. Though your eyes were still rimmed with red from your earlier tears, the sadness was replaced with lust, need, and love. 

Yoongi slipped off the couch and pulled you towards the edge, moving your feet to each of his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” the word fell so effortlessly from his lips, “you’re so fucking wet.” 

“All for you.” You say, tutting your hips closer to his breath. 

Then Yoongi dove in. His tongue delved into your soft, pink flesh. You spread your lips for him, allowing him better access as his tongue wrapped around your swollen clit and sucked harshly. Your body convulsed at the feeling, finally feeling his fingers press into your entrance. 

Animalistic moans fell from your lips, your free hand flying to his hair and tugging harshly at the roots. This caused a groan to leave Yoongi’s throat, the vibration heating your core. 

“You’re still so loud,” he peaks up from you, his face half covered by your pelvic bone, “give me more, baby. Tell me how much you like it.” 

His fingers moved so much quicker now, his tongue lapping at you like it was his last meal. His words were enough to encourage you to scream his name as he curled fingers in just the right place, your orgasm rushing through your body in heated rolls. You didn’t even realize you were squirting until you unscrew your eyes open, glancing down to see Yoongi’s shirt and face soaked as he drank in your orgasm with blown out eyes. 

Something about the way his tongue kept finding itself on your clit as you rocked through your release made you come undone again seconds after the first. 

“Oh my god,” his hands shook at the sight in front of him, “I- I almost came in my pants. You’ve never squirt like that with me before.” 

You hid your face shyly, your chest heaving. You had never squirt before in your life, and both you and Yoongi had knew that. 

“Can you keep going?” his eyes were still wide, “are you- that was so hot.” 

“Fuck me, Yoongi.” You say as you lean forward, unbuckling his belt quickly. His hands beat you to unzipping his fly, pulling his jeans and boxers down in one go. 

You didn’t hadn’t had anyone inside of you since the last time you and Yoongi had sex, and the feeling as he pushed the head of his cock into you again was one of absolute euphoria. A harmonized moan fell between the two of you and he didn’t move for a moment, just drinking in your fucked out expression as your jaw dropped when bottomed out. 

His teeth grit together, “So tight and wet.” 

“Please move.” You ask, grinding your hips down onto him for any sort of friction. 

“I-” he couldn’t form a sentence. Yoongi was always the one in charge in the bedroom before, but having you around him again was breaking him. He didn’t know how to think, how to move. All he knew was your clenching walls milking his cock for everything that it was worth. 

You sensed his hesitation and flipped the two of you, straddling his thighs and beginning to ride him to your hearts content. His fingers dug into your hips as you did so, and all he could do was watch you. 

You leaned down to him, pressing your lips to his. He reached a new spot inside of you, his hips beginning to tut into you to meet yours. 

“I love you.” You breathe, Yoongi swallowing your gasp in the process. He didn’t respond, only allowing his hands to roam your body. 

“I’m gonna- oh fuck- where do you want me to cum?” Yoongi managed out, and you felt him twitch inside you. 

You had completely forgotten he wasn’t wearing a condom, and that your birth control ran out months ago. You just wanted to feel him cum inside you, the thought pushing your orgasm closer to the edge. 

“Baby-” Yoongi struggled to contain his moan, “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna cum inside you.” 

You nipped at his neck, “Then cum inside me, Oppa.” 

The use of the honorific was enough to send him over the edge, his hands stilling on your thighs as hot, thick strings of cum shoot inside of you. You moan his name as you come around him, milking his orgasm out of him in one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had in your entire life. 

Sweat drenched the both of you, your chest shining as Yoongi took your nipple in his mouth in a last ditch effort to please you just a little more. You couldn’t move, knowing that his cum was slowly leaking out of you and covering his own cock. 

Yoongi moved you to sit beside him, most of his cum spilling out in the process and covering the couch. He was too spent to care, only being able to look over at you while you cuddled into his side. 

“We’re going to have to get Plan B.” You whispered suddenly, your thoughts unclouding in the after math of your release. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi said, his thumb stroking your thigh, “you’re not on birth control anymore?” 

You shook your head, “Didn’t need it.” 

This made Yoongi’s heart flutter, knowing that you hadn’t had sex or wanted it anytime soon if it wasn’t with him. For a moment he forgot the last six months had happened, and that you were back for good, ready to softly stroke his head to sleep again. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, moving so you laid on top of him, “Shall we take a nap?” 

“But-” 

“We’ll talk about everything when we wake up. We’ll make decisions once we aren’t recovering from mind-blowing sex. Just, hold me right now. Then whatever we decide later will move our lives in the direction that it needs to go.” Yoongi said, silently begging you not to leave him high and dry.

You only nod, laying your head on his chest. 

In your sleepy state, you try not to over think his words too much, only trying to inhale his scent and the memory of his arms around you because there’s a chance that this is the last time that this happens. Even if that’s not what you want at all. 

So you two fall asleep, the soft breathing shared between the two of you lulling you into a deep sleep, your dreams filled with thoughts of a black haired boy with a gummy smile. The love of your life. 

[xpao-bearx]

《This story series is also on my AO3 acc @ Paoloca》

SUMMARY: The bachelors of Selphia conjure up a plan to decide who truly deserves the beautiful princess' heart...if Frey can only choose one of them, that is.

PAIRINGS: Frey x Vishnal, Frey x Kiel, Frey x Doug, Frey x Arthur, Frey x Dylas, Frey x Leon (Polyamorous Ships)

RATING: Mature/18+/Romance & Smut. Please bear these in mind if you are uncomfortable and do NOT report!

NOTE: I have been an avid fan and lover of the Rune Factory series for a looong fooken time now and with RF 5 coming up (who else can't wait?!?!) along with my bursting inspiration, I decided to do something a lil special~ 💖

This story is actually one I wrote--or at least TRIED to write as I didn't finish it--many years ago on my old Wattpad acc (I have a new one now). As such, I'm taking the basic plotline from the original idea I had and simply making it a bit better especially now that I'm older + more mature (pfft yeah sure "mAtUrE" xD).

I sincerely and deeply love ALL of the amazing bachelors on RF 4 and as someone who absolutely ✨A D O R E S✨ reverse harems, I really *personally* don't think that Frey has to choose! And so, here's a naughty + sweet story that'll kinda just delve into my--and I'm sure others'--fantasy ;)

I hope ya lovelies will enjoy this story series and your wonderful support is always very much appreciated! 🥺💕💕 Also, feel free to fangirl/fanboy with me anytime~

P.S. Please forgive mah pathetic ass in advance if I ever portray any of the characters wrong, I promise to do my best!!

"The Princess' Harem"

Part 1: The Game

☆ALL CREDIT GOES TO THE TALENTED ARTIST☆

Summer 1, the dawn of a sweltering season. But most of all...

Beach Day!

Ah, yes, a most wonderful holiday to take a dip in the refreshing water and don the most attractive swimsuits that perfectly hugged one's form! And while it was understandable for the gentlemen to gawk and admire the lovely ladies, it seemed that all the bachelors of Selphia were completely ensnared by one warrior princess in particular...

Frey's tinkly laughter carried in the air as she happily swam around in the lake with the other girls. It was certainly a gorgeous day, yet none could quite rival the turquoise haired beauty's radiant smile.

"Haa... The princess is SO beautiful~" Vishnal sighed dreamily, his violet eyes turning into hearts.

"A goddess among mere mortals!" Kiel piped up cutely.

"You guys are so lame! But, uh... Y-Yeah, I agree, I guess." Doug conceded, face flushing as scarlet as his hair.

"I am a man, after all. Therefore, I must say I agree as well." Arthur cleared his throat, propping his glasses.

"You are all perverts..." Dylas grumbled, though he couldn't help but shyly sneak a peek at Frey.

"My, my~ You're such a bad liar, horsie. Calling us perverts when you, yourself, are one~" Leon chuckled, smirking.

"Who're ya calling horsie?!" Dylas snapped, but couldn't start an argument when all of them heard a splash and saw Frey emerge onto shore.

"Princess!" Vishnal beamed, not wasting a single second as he dashed towards her with a towel much like an excited puppy. "Are you done swimming?"

Frey gratefully took the towel, wiping her drenching body with it. "Yes, I am! And once I change into my clothes, I'm going to be checking the requests."

"You're ever so diligent, Frey. I truly admire that about you." Arthur smiled as he and the rest of the boys approached their beloved girlfriend. Arthur's glasses then flashed as the sun reflected on them, and he quickly grabbed that splendid opportunity for his gaze to drop and hyperfocus on Frey's nearly naked body. He barely managed to suppress it as he almost shamelessly licked his lips, fully taking in and very much appreciating her wet and fit physique.

"Oh, it's nothing! I'm only doing my duties." Frey giggled, embarrassed as her cheeks tinted pink. "But other than that, how come you guys aren't in your swimsuits? It's boiling!" She frowned worriedly.

"Why, is milady that eager to see me in all my glory?" Leon purred, standing in front of her in a flash. His teal eyes sparkled mischievously, as one of his hands reached forward to run his fingers through her long hair. "If you want to see me that badly, I'd rather 'perform' a private show for you tonight~"

Frey became as red as a ruby, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly like a fish out of water. She tried to speak, but no words came out as she could only stare up with eyes as wide as dinner plates at an amused Leon who was enjoying this situation far too much.

"Oi, knock it off!" Dylas growled, wrapping a protective arm around Frey as he glared sharply at Leon. "She's gonna go fishing with me after she's done, anyways!"

"WHAT?! No fair, you can't hog her all to yourself! If you guys are going fishing then I'm going, too!" Doug huffed, snatching Frey away from Dylas.

"No way, you dumbass dwarf! You're not invited!"

"Well, I am now, you fucking nag!"

As the two handsome idiots bickered like an old married couple and fought over Frey, she could only release an exasperated sigh. Honestly, she loved them both, but there was really no use trying to talk any sense into them. The best anyone could do was just wait it out until they inevitably get tired.

But as Doug and Dylas were yanking Frey from one side to another like a ragdoll, they suddenly stopped. It seems that everyone else halted, too, and the air blew bitter cold. Frey, oblivious, could only raise a brow before she finally realized--or more like felt--what all the boys were staring at.

She looked down, Doug and Dylas' hands accidentally cupping each one of Frey's breasts. All of the boys were a thousand shades of crimson, and Vishnal even started to have a nosebleed.

"ACK! S-Sorry..!" Doug and Dylas exclaimed in unison, abruptly pulling their hands away as if they were burned.

"O-Oh, uh, it's f-fine..!" Frey stuttered, not being able to meet anyone's gaze. "I-It was just an accident, after all!"

"Are you sure you're alright, Frey?" Kiel asked, holding her hands into his gently as he studied her face in concern. "These lowlifes didn't hurt you, did they?" It was rare for Kiel to be angry let alone badmouthing anyone, but it was clear from his tone how upset he was. Honestly, Doug and Dylas were a little scared...

"Y-Yes, I'm alright!" Frey nodded vigorously, smiling brightly. "Seriously, guys, don't worry about me! I'll see you all later, okay?" She hurriedly gave each one of them a chaste peck on the cheek before making her way back to the castle.

"So..." Leon began, a fake smile plastered on his lips as his eyes held no emotion. "I wonder who the true perverts are now?"

"H-Hey, it was an accident! Besides, it's all this moron's fault!" Dylas retorted, pointing an accusatory finger at Doug.

"MY fault?! If you just invited me in the first place, none of this would've happened!" Doug shouted furiously.

"You guys...touched...the princess' b-b-breasts..." Vishnal muttered, totally lost in his own world as he was slowly deteriorating from existence.

"Oh, my..." Arthur let out a heavy exhale. "I'm sure you two already know this, but as soon as Frey is done with her tasks then you both must apologize to her again. Accident or not, it is completely unacceptable for a man to touch a woman without her consent."

"Hey, y'know, I've been wondering..." Kiel cut in. "Do you guys ever think if Frey is just being strung along by us?"

"What do you mean?" Doug frowned.

"Like, didn't we confess to Frey at different times? And at every confession, she rejected all of us. And later on, it was only then we found out that we all shared the same feelings for her."

"So, what's your point?" Dylas pressed.

Kiel sighed, staring pointedly at the taller man. "Don't you find it a bit weird that now, we're all in a relationship with her? I know that being in a polyamorous relationship with Frey was something we all consented on from the very beginning, but why the sudden change of heart?"

"Isn't it obvious? Being in a polyamorous relationship means that Frey likes all of us at the same time, which is fine. Maybe she was just too shy at first to admit it." Leon shrugged.

"That may be true, or...what if she's only with us out of pity?" A wave of realization washed through everyone, and a certain pang of sadness settled in their hearts. "Frey is such a nice person, it's possible she only agreed to be with us since she felt bad for rejecting us. And now, she doesn't know how to break up with us for fear of hurting us even more."

"There's also one other possibility..." Arthur spoke up. "What if she actually likes one of us, but can't exclusively date that person?"

Dead silence. Only the faint sounds of the lake thrashing and birds chirping, before Vishnal was the one who first woke up back to reality.

"So... What are we supposed to do?" He questioned softly. "I feel so terrible... If what you're saying is true, then I don't want to continue on like this. I love Frey, but I can't ever bear the thought of hurting her!"

"How about a game?" Leon suggested.

"Now's really not the time, foxy." Doug rolled his eyes.

"No, no. You've misunderstood." Leon shook his head. "I'm talking about a game to see who Frey truly likes or doesn't like. And that way, we won't have to be hurting her and suffering like this anymore."

"Hmm... An interesting proposition." Arthur hummed thoughtfully. "I don't quite like referring to this as a 'game', but colour me intrigued. What's your idea, then?"

"Alright. So, we each get one whole day to spend with Frey. Completely alone, and no one is allowed to bother anyone else. As long as Frey is okay with it, then we can do whatever we want with her. Going on dates, exploring...you get the idea. Finally, by the end of the week, we'll all ask her how she feels and who she had the most fun with. Her answer will then determine what will happen afterwards."

"Hmph. Okay, that sounds good." Dylas nodded, agreeing for once. "How can we settle who goes first and last, though?"

"I think it would only be fair if we go in the order that Frey met us. So it's Vishnal, me, Doug, Arthur, Dylas, and then Leon." Kiel offered.

"All in favour?" Arthur asked, and everyone collectively voiced out their approval. "Good. It's settled, then. May the best man win!"

"Speaking of, I forgot that the castle is undergoing construction! So please excuse me, I'll have to get going now!" Vishnal grinned, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

"Wait... I just visited Ventuswill earlier with Granny Blossom." Doug furrowed his brows before gasping. "That bastard..! He went to go have a headstart with Frey!" He immediately chased after the conniving butler, but not before his shoulder got bumped hard by Dylas.

"If anyone's gonna get a headstart, it's me!"

"Oh, shut the hell up, HORSIE!"

Arthur sighed deeply, rubbing his temples stressfully as Kiel only chuckled sheepishly. Leon simply watched the scene, his fan hiding his smirk.

'There is a saying: Save the best for last~' Leon thought satisfyingly to himself.

[cas-huggybear]

God’s most beloved

A/N: this is just a random story I wrote. It’s about Lucier and his fall, his time in the cage and his relationship with his family. And why he tortured Sam Winchester.

He was God’s favorite.

He loved him and siblings deeply.

It hadn't been his fault. The mark, his father had given him, it poisoned his mind.

God had acted irresponsible and foolish, putting such a burden on his most beloved child. He should have known that an object of such power would be too much, even for an archangel.

Then God created men.

Of course Lucifer became jealous of mankind because he loved his father more than anything, and he believed so did his father.

But he was wrong.

God showed more concern fore those creatures than him.

He could not comprehend how such weak and foolish beings even deserved to exist.

So he wanted to set humanity free; to show them that there is more than blind obedience and that free will exists. He would free their minds of the illusion his father created, show them how wrong their beloved God was.

So he seduced her, Eve, the woman. Not because she was weaker than Adam, it had been the contrary. He found more pride in seducing the stronger one, to humiliate his father even more.

He laughed when he saw Adam eating the apple out of Eve's hand, greedily biting and chewing, the sweet juices dripping down his chin.      

And he laughed when he twisted Lilith's human soul, creating the first of the demons.

But then his family turned against him, coldly banishing him from heaven.

And he should have known the angel's blind devotion to their father wasn't something to be quickly overruled.

But the devotion in those who followed him burned hot and the war that came was terrible.

Heaven was shattered, and the descendants of Adam and Eve were terrified, cowering on earth below every time a deafening rumble from above rang in their fragile ears.

When he remembers the war, which divided heaven forever, all he can see is his brothers and sisters.

Angels, slain. Their wings ripped out on the base, terrible, gaping holes where beautiful, divine feathers should be.

Angels, broken and battered.

And he knew, what burns hot, fades even faster. By the time it wasn't utter love and admiration he saw in their eyes. Instead, he saw doubt and grief, slowly turning to anger and hatred. Towards him.

And in his terrible wrath he smote those who doubted him, smote his own people.

After that there were whispers in his own garrison. Whispers, that he had become insane, driven to madness by having to kill his own siblings.

And if he would have been honest to himself, he secretly knew those voices were right. But he was known for his pride and so he refused to believe so.

Perhaps he was insane, but for a different reason. The Mark. The Mark to seal away his father's sister, the Mark that held too much power for him to bear. He had to lose it. And he found a way. The foolish human Cain, tricked and deceived by the Morningstar now bore the Mark, making it widely known. Making him the first human to commit the most terrible crime: murder. He slaughtered his own brother Abel with the jawbone of a mere cow. Lucifer laughed as he saw the despair in father's eyes as it happened.

But he was afraid, afraid because he knew there was still no going back now.

Then it happened.

His father gave the orders. Lucifer followed out of pride, his beloved brother Michael followed as always out of obedience.

There was a time when he secretly used to be jealous of his brother. What a perfect soldier he was. He knew he could never be like him, and the doubt wormed its way up to his heart. But father's strong, soothing hand on his shoulder and gentle words of assurance had simply made the doubt vanish.

The first thing the oldest archangel had noticed while entering the imposing throne room, was Michael's place, – at father's right. The place where he used to stand, assisting father, deliberating with him.

Tall, proud and in golden armor, sword in his mighty hand, Michael did not look at Lucifer when he entered. His piercing blue gaze was fixated right above his brother's head, not acknowledging him. Lucifer couldn't help but grin at his brother's stubbornness.

A choir of whispers surrounded him, hundreds of angel's bearing witness in the throne room.

There was a time those whispers were full of worship and adoration – adoration for him, the Morningstar. But instead of soft, quiet whispers, words of fondness and devotion, those whispers were now cruel and harsh, piercing like the ice-cold wind of earth below.

Insane... evil... traitor... unholy... MONSTER!

He growled and turned around, facing the brutal voices. How could they. They were his family. How dared they insult him that way. After all he was the first and most powerful archangel, Lucifer Morningstar, the bringer of dawn and (he used to be) God's most beloved.

And who were they? Low, meaningless angels, talking about him like he was insane, when in truth they were the blind, little sheep.

He smiled. Pathetic, he thought, as he looked into their faces, expressions full of terror. He snapped his fingers, a dozen angels disintegrating. The unharmed angels cried out in horror, cowering under his fiery blue stare and he delighted in their fear.

“LUCIFER!”

There he was. His brother finally looked him in the eye. Lucifer grinned at him too.

“You will pay for this.”, Michael's voice sounded, threateningly low, but his older brother was not impressed.

They met in the middle of the white throne room, surrounded by angels and marble-pillars.

It happened fast. Michael raised his sword. The proud, strong archangel Michael, but most of all his dear brother, was fighting him.

They had fought before, before all of it happened. They had fought about every mild inconvenience, driving father and his siblings mad. But back then, there was always some sort of playfulness, even cheer in their eyes. And if he hurt Michael in a serious manner, or the other way around, the brothers would always apologize, hug and laugh it off, not seeing the content smile on their father's face afterwards.

But not now.

Now, it was Michael's intent to end him. His hits showed no mercy, relentlessly battling him, channeling all his strength. His mighty sword coming down on his and the look on his face, grim and cold, showing no emotion.

Lucifer knew his brothers and sisters were watching them, they cried out in horror every time one of them was hit.

The two beautiful brothers were fighting hard and relentlessly, divine swords crashing together in loud, metallic rings.

But Lucifer knew he was still a better fighter, more powerful. He was the first archangel, angel, older than his brother and he would win.

Or so he thought. He had underestimated his brother's grim determination, underestimated Michael's will to turn against him.

At first he thought there was a chance of talking to his stubborn brother, but every time he attempted to speak, his brother's eyes would glow, bright and blue, and his celestial energy would force Lucifer back.

Still the Morningstar believed he would win that terrible battle.

And Lucifer was furious. How could his brother do that to him? How could father do this to him? He loved them, he loved all of his family.

They were both bleeding now, grace shining bright through their bodies.

Father's voice rumbled through heaven's throne room, commanding them to halt in their action. They both stopped, Michael out of obedience, Lucifer out of old habit.

Father's accusations numbed him but at the same time...

There it was.

The flame inside of him, burning bright and red through his eyes and Michael's look of utter disturbance when he saw his brother's blue eyes turn red for the first time fueled his unstoppable rage even more.

With proud strides the Morningstar made his way over to father's throne.

The angels screamed as they saw him raise his sword at father, and then he screamed when  Michael roughly yanked him backwards.

By his wings.

The most sensitive and most holy part of an angel's body. The most intimate. He could feel feathers ripping out, blood spilling, the small bones crushed under Michael's merciless grip.

With a roar he turned around with the intention of causing Michael as much pain as he experienced.

But then it happened. For a split second he could see Michael's facade crumble when he heard father's command. He could see the real Michael, not the cold soldier but his little brother, staring up at him in dread. Even for Michael father's choice of punishment sounded cruel.

Lucifer stared at his brother, awaiting his reaction.

A choir of terrified angel voices followed them again and when he saw the clouds dividing, the distant green of earth so contrary to the white marble of the throne room, he knew it was the end.

Michael's expression shifted back to grim and determined.

For the last time Lucifer allowed himself to look at his brothers.

Gabriel. Tears were streaming down his little brothers face, arms around a little fledgling who had buried his face in Gabriel's side.

Raphael stared at him without emotion, looking at him as if watching the clouds in heaven.

But Lucifer couldn't look at father. Not after this. He despised him.

And in this moment he swore his revenge would be terrible.

With gleaming red eyes he turned his face to look at Michael. The cold breeze from the opening rustled his and Michael's feathers.

He grinned at his brother, his face a mocking grimace.

“What are you waiting for, brother?”, he spat.

With another violent pull Michael yanked him forward once again and he could hear his bones break. The pain emerging from his wing was almost unbearable.

Lucifer wanted to stop his brother from dragging him, tried hitting him with his bare hands, kicking him, clawing at him, anything to protect his wings, but his hands did not affect Michael and he knew, it was father who protected his brother against his attacks.

He stumbled after his little brother, cursing him, cursing father and the entirety of heaven.

When his other wing broke, the angels started crying but he simply laughed.

“You are a monster, Lucifer.”, his brother's cold voice hurting him more than his grip on his wings.

With those words Michael let his white, bloodstained wings go and violently kicked him, hard, in the back, right between his destroyed wings.

Then he fell, accompanied by his sibling's cries.

What he mostly remembers from the fall is pain and the smell of his burning wings. Once he reached a certain speed, he was nothing but a ball of fire.

His broken wings were flapping useless above him, burning.

He tried to do anything to slow himself, tried to lift his once strong wings, but the broken bones did not allow him to.

It is said the scream that erupted from Lucifer's throat that moment shook not only heaven, but hell and earth as well.

And mankind was terrified once they caught sight of the archangel, falling in a fiery mess, and heard his terrible cry.  

The moment he collided with earth's rough surface, he wished he had lost consciousness.

Instead, he hit the surface with a shattering thud.

Only then, everything went black.

When he woke up again, he found himself behind strong, warded metal bars., His father's print clear on them.

He knew father had meant to bind him, to not release him upon the earth, threatening his oh so beloved creation.

The millennia he spent imprisoned in the cage had their fair share on him. Healing was hard, all alone in the darkness with no help.

His wings...

His beautiful wings were destroyed. The once alabaster white feathers, with sprinkles of pure gold at the feather's ends were now black and stunted – burned.

And he wept for them, wept alone in the darkness of the sickening cage, wept for his despair and repudiation.

Once he used to laugh at his father's poor creativity, locking him up just like he did to his sister.

Once he used to laugh at the screams of the doomed souls, suffering.

After a while he stopped. He became... considerate, quiet.

Over hundreds of years he took the time of the solitude to heal himself.

And finally his wings were restored to their former glory, as well as the rest of his body.

But not his mind. It was broken and no grace, no divine power could repair it. There was nothing but a storm of dark clouds, full of hatred, disdain and rage.

So he was left with himself. Thinking, planning, listening.

And how he learned to loathe his father and all his creation.

The once beautiful archangel Lucifer Morningstar, God's most beloved child, was now the Devil.

Twisted, sick and evil, he waited.

A whisper. Promises from Azazel, one of his princes. Promises for him. He hoped Azazel wouldn't fail – otherwise not even the bars of the damned cage would save the demon from his wrath.

Then, he felt a low rumble, vibrating through the cage.

Then another. And another.

He could sense her coming. His first creation. Lilith. After all she was bound to him.

Her words were the sweetest music in his ears.

Music, of the 66 seals being broken, music of heaven's armies failing.

And finally he laughed again and all of hell heard him and cheered.

Lucifer would walk the earth and be their salvation.

With the last seal breaking, the fire in him burned again, after a long time.

He was free again.

Finally he was going to get his revenge.

And it would be so sweet.

He smiled. He would destroy the one thing that brought him his doom – humanity.

And he would find such pleasure in destroying his father’s most beloved creation.

Lucifer would destroy mankind the same way his father had destroyed him.

He was surprised at how easy it was to possess his first vessel. How easily manipulated humans still were.

Thousands of years after their creation and they were just as weak and pathetic as the day they first opened their eyes.

The suffering they would endure once he had raised hell would be terrible, and he hoped that father, wherever he was, would see the mistake he made.

He knew his brother's garrison was after him, but he had other, more important concerns.

For example convincing Sam Winchester to be his vessel – it was his destiny after all. The same way it was Sam's idiotic brother's destiny to be Michael's vessel.

But the brothers were... stronger and more resistant than usual, their brotherly love painfully reminding him of what he and Michael once used to have.

He did not worry though, they were just humans after all and he was, well, the Devil.

Then, the one thing he always tried to avoid happened.

His little brother, Gabriel got in his way, and he couldn't understand why he would care for those pagans. Lesser beings, not half as worth as his little brother himself, far beneath him.

So he left his little Gabriel the choice – him or Michael, to evaluate whether he was worthy of being a part of his new kingdom.

And oh how he wished his little brother would have picked him, how his foolish little brother would see that he was the right choice.

But Gabriel was blind and so he had to end him.

He simply couldn't show any more weakness. Now it was about his main goal, and to reach it. He would turn against his family for it, like they once turned on him. He had tried but his brother had left him no choice.

And so he had turned around, piercing his brother's own blade right through his heart, watching the life leave his eyes, shining bright and blue through them.

He cried and wept for his little brother but it had to be. There was no way he could allow any form of resistance in his kingdom.

The world would be his, only his.

But of course his other brother couldn’t let that happen.

Lucifer still loved Michael. Even now, after what Michael had done to him. Even after his last words to him had stung terribly.

So he tried talking to him, get him to understand that he wasn’t evil. (Just) simply misunderstood.

But his stupid, prideful, stubborn brother wouldn’t listen to him. He was just as blind as Gabriel was.

So they had to fight and he knew he would win. He was the Morningstar after all.

And his kingdom would rise.

But then, this miserable human and his imbecile brother damaged his plans.

When Sam Winchester accepted to be his vessel, he knew he should have locked him far away in his mind before, but it was so much fun watching the younger Winchester suffer.

Watching it tear him apart that he wasn’t strong enough to overpower him, to watch innocent people die at his own hands.

And how he enjoyed beating up the pitiful other one, Dean, making him suffer at his Sammy’s hand.

But he underestimated them, and he cursed himself for it.

His stupid vessel took control, and it grabbed Michael, dragging both of them with him.

And then he was there again.

The one place he wished to never be again, the one place he feared.

He had wished to never having to look at the iron bars, how they seemingly got closer with every breath he took.

But this time he wasn’t alone.

And even if he couldn’t get his revenge on father, he knew ways nobody else knew of, to make the person suffer who brought him back to the hell hole.

A smile crept up his face.

He would break Sam Winchester.

[danganronpa-21]

Naegiri Week Day 5 - Touch

Here’s Day 5 - Touch! It’s my yearly obligatory “involves pregnancy in some way” fic. I would categorize this as a mild hurt/comfort, so thankfully, I think there are no warnings to issue. I hope you like it, and please let me know what you think! 

Fun fact: I wrote this entire one-shot in Comic Sans.

___________________________

Two minutes.

 Makoto just had to wait two minutes.

 When did two minutes get to be so long?!

 Heartbeat resting rather uncomfortably in this throat, he glanced longingly over at Kyoko. He’d hoped that she might be able to grant him some semblance of comfort, but even she looked as nervous as he was. Her whole torso stiffened; her eyes fixed intently on her own hands. One finger traced patterns along the bare skin, for once not seeming to mind the texture. Hands that looked like overcooked hamburger meat, Makoto thought. Hands that belonged to the woman he loved. Hands that belonged to the mother of his child. Children, his mind corrected. They weren’t sure which it would be yet. That’s what they were waiting on, after all. Quietly, they prayed for a positive pregnancy test.

 He uncrossed his legs, leaning forward slightly to stare at the floor. Off-white bathroom tile, he remarked to himself, as if it were anything extraordinary. It’s something he and Kyoko picked out together when their house was first being built. He remembered how much time they’d spent thinking over simple things like that, wondering what would be best. Times like that seemed miles away now, but he guessed that some parts never changed. After all, they were still sitting there, thinking too hard about what was to come next for them. He hoped Kyoko wouldn’t be too upset this time if they got another negative. The last time she’d been sorely disappointed, but the time before that, she held onto her determined attitude. The time before that… well, there had been so many times that they all blended together.

 It was funny. They had such an easy time having their first. Their little angel, a baby girl they’d called Hope, had been a complete accident. He could have laughed at how reckless they’d been; they were only a few years into being intimate with one another. Neither of them expected to get pregnant out of nowhere like that, and they were nervous about being good parents… but Hope was the best thing that ever happened to them (no joke intended). In fact, she was the catalyst for the decision to have another. Back when they first got engaged, Kyoko told him that she only wanted one child, for the sake of giving an heir to the Kirigiri family. If they enjoyed having the one, she said she might consider having another, but it seemed so outside of the realm of possibility then. When she told him that, Makoto expected to only have one child.

 What a funny turn of events it was for Kyoko to curl up in bed with him so many months ago, her head leaning on his shoulder. One look at her face and he could tell that she wanted something. Not just anything, either. It was something she wanted rather desperately. The batting of her eyelashes at him was proof enough.

 “Can I help you, Kyoko?” He remembered giggling, nudging her head with his own. In his lap was a self-help book he’d been reading as of late, meant to teach the meeker population how to put their foot down. It had been a birthday gift from Toko, as well as a bit of a jab. Perhaps a bit of unknown foreshadowing, even. “You’ve been sitting there giving me sweet eyes for the last few minutes.”

 If she had any remorse about being found out, she didn’t show it. She simply kept on enticing him with her fluttering lashes and soft smile. “I guess I was just thinking about how far we’ve come, and how lucky we are.”

 Makoto nodded. “We are really lucky.”

 “Yes, we are. After all of those years of pain, we finally get to experience a healing world. We have well-paying and engaging careers, the most considerate friends anyone could ask for, a cozy home, the best kind of love from each other, and the most flawless little girl this world has ever seen…” Makoto couldn’t help but recall how silvery her tone was. When it was all rich and saccharine like that, it felt like listening to liquid caramel. He could listen to her talk like that all day.

 “It’s comforting to see how much has fallen into place for us, isn’t it?”

 She took her turn to nod, wearing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. If he hadn’t noticed her reluctance before, he certainly would have then. “Yes, it is. Even with all of this happiness, though, I find there is something more I long for.”

 The most he could think to do in that situation was blink in surprise, turning his head to look at her. As much as he trusted her, he would have to confess that a seed of worry buried itself in the pit of his stomach at the sound of those words. For all he knew then, she could have been asking to get a new pet, to open up their relationship, to start following a new religion, anything! The anxiety of it all made him start to nibble his lip a bit, but he tried to maintain his composure for her sake. “And what is that?”

 His wife seemed to curl in on herself ever so slightly, and a deep shade of rose dusted itself across her cheeks and nose all of the sudden. Though he turned his face to meet her eyes, she’d just as quickly turned away to stare at her empty lap. “I… I… well, I…”

 “Yeah?” He supplied encouragingly, raising his eyebrows.

 “I… I want another baby.”

 “You… You do?” Excitement cut into him like a knife through a spongy cake. His heart began to thunder in his chest; a smile begged to form on his lips. While he anticipated having the one baby, he secretly wished that Kyoko would change her mind. More than anything, Makoto wanted to have a big, happy family with his wife. He’d have been happy with just the three of them, but he wanted his daughter to have the experience of growing up with a sibling, like he did.

 “Is that okay?” Kyoko asked in a small voice, the rouge colour in her face darkening.

 “Of course it is! I’d love to have another baby!”

 That day seemed like such a long time ago. Something like four months later, they found themselves in their current position: sitting together waiting for a positive pregnancy test, the announcement that would tell them that their dreams were going to come to life. All he could do was stare anxiously at Kyoko, who continued to trace swirled patterns on the palms of her hands. She had had to remove her gloves to take the test, fearing getting urine on them, and had yet to put them back on. Honestly, he hoped she wouldn’t. Right now, he just wanted to hold her hand.

 He uncrossed his legs and wiggled closer to her, hope that she might take the hint rising in his chest. These two minutes would be some of the most agonizing of their day, even worse than overseeing Hope’s failed attempts at potty training. It made the most sense to go through these next moments together, sitting as close as possible. Without thinking, he leaned his head on her shoulder. The corners of her mouth twitched upward at the action, but she refused to give him a full smile.

 “I suppose you can tell how nervous I am, can’t you?”

 Reaching up to brush a strand of her long hair behind her ear, he chuckled. “I think it would be more of a concern if I couldn’t tell you were nervous after all this time. You’re almost trembling.”

 She ducked her head down, as if she were ashamed. Makoto didn’t know what for. Everybody had the potential to get nervous, even world-class detectives. Especially world-class detectives! World-class detectives who were trying to be moms for a second time even more so. “God, am I? I hadn’t noticed.”

 “It’s only a little, but I’m pretty observant. You taught me how to do that.”

 Her index finger began to reverse the spiral it had just finished tracing, still holding most of her attention. Did these little finger movements give her some sense of comfort? He’d never noticed before. She’d certainly used them to soothe him before, but did she enjoy them too? It was hard to know whether he should be happy that he could still learn new things about her, or disappointed that he still had yet to become observant enough. He’d always thought her love language was less about touch, and more about words of affirmation. “I suppose I did.”

 “Kyoko, honey… are you okay?” His eyebrows lowered, and all of the sudden he realized how sweaty his palms were becoming. In the midst of all of his happy reminiscing, somewhere in the back of his mind, his nervousness caught up to him.

 His wife swallowed thickly; her fingers motions drawing to a halt. “I’m trying to be,” it didn’t have to be expelled, but he could see the sigh brewing within her, “I don’t know what I will do if this pregnancy test is negative.”

 Makoto shrugged. “What’s the big deal if it is? Most couples take a year to six months to conceive. We’re only four months in, so it’s not like we’re falling behind or anything.”

 Kyoko didn’t answer. She just kept staring at her hands, probably thinking that it was easier than looking him in the eye. Two years ago was the last time he saw her this nervous, and it was over their first baby. In some ways, he supposed he should have expected it. Anything baby-related tended to throw her for a loop. In spite of that, he still couldn’t help but feel as if this seemed a little weird. Having to watch her in such a state made him itch to take hold of her hand.

 “Is there something else bothering you?”

 “I’m just…” she swallowed, “I want it to work this time. I know that we can keep trying, but… Every time the test comes back negative, I worry that something’s wrong.”

 “Do you think Hope was a fluke, or something?”

 She sighed. “I do worry about it sometimes. You and I never expected to get pregnant so soon, and it was almost completely by accident. If I hadn’t pushed you to um… you know…”

 Makoto’s face burned the colour of a cinnamon heart. There were several points in which it might be a good idea to recall the night they’d accidentally conceived; this was not one of them. He gulped, and tried to push the thoughts of the way she looked that night out of his mind. “You think we might not have had her?”

 She groaned, shoving her head into her hands. “What bothers me is that I have no certainty of whether or not that is true. You know just as well as I do that I have been loaded up on poison expelling medications with all kinds of unusual side effects.”

 The blush in Makoto’s cheeks deepened, and he had to fight off the urge to utter the words: “Yeah, like cancelling out the effects of birth control”. At the time of Hope’s birth, that had been their magic secret to having children.

 “We don’t know for sure that that’s having any effect though, Kyoko.” His hand found its way to hers almost effortlessly, his thumb stroking the back of it. “It’s so easy to get worked up about the chances, but we don’t know anything for sure. You’ve said yourself half a million times that life is unpredictable. There’s still a good chance that we’ll pick up that pregnancy test and it’ll be positive!”

 The detective slowly lifted her head. “And if it isn’t?”

 “We’ll keep trying, then,” he flashed her the sweetest smile he could muster, “We’re both too stubborn to give up so easily. You can’t get the reward without putting in the effort, right?”

 A grin crossed her own lips. “I suppose not. Would you… truly be willing to keep trying?” Finally, she lifted her head to fully meet his gaze, her eyes sparkling with a sense of longing. “No matter how long it may take for me to become pregnant?”

 “Of course.” As weird as it may have seemed to others, he considered it to be rather special that he could be the one to comfort her in trying times. There were a scarce few souls who got the privilege of seeing the detective at her low points, and thus, many of their friends were never able to comfort Kyoko when she felt poorly. Makoto, on the other hand, got to look after her every day. Just getting to see her gradually win back that smile won him relief stronger than jumping into a chilled pool on a sweltering summer afternoon. On a list of his favourite things, he’d most certainly put Kyoko’s smile. He was honoured to get to protect it every day of his life.

 Gently, she slipped her hand out from underneath his. At first, he worried that she might try to pull away, but the sensation of her fingers wiggling to intertwine his own made that concern ebb away. “Thank you for saying that,” at last, her voice regained its usual calmness, “Now, what do you say we see if fate is on our side today? I believe two minutes have passed.”

 Makoto could have jumped for joy. His concern for his wife had him so wrapped up, he hardly noticed the drifting minutes. The test that would confirm the first sign of their second bundle of hope could be found sitting at the ready on the countertop. “You wanna look at it together? Count of three kind of thing?”

 She giggled. “Definitely. On the count of three, we can both stand up.”

 “Bet I can stand up faster than you!” He teased, poking her tongue out at her from between his lips.

 It did earn him a laugh, but also a nudge with her shoulder. The decision to not release the other’s hand seemed to be unspoken. “Oh, hush and just start counting!”

 “Alright. Here we go.” Deep breath. Another deep breath for good measure. Alright. Go time. “One…”

 Kyoko squeezed her eyes shut and took in a big gulp of air like a child bobbing under the water for the first time. Fighting off the chuckle that brewed in his chest at that image was hard. Whatever she needed to do to get through this, he would allow her. Heaven knew he would probably need his own coping strategies to deal with his excitement. “Two…”

 Makoto’s entire body tingled. His fingertips got the worst of it, yet tiny twinges of tingles danced all over him. Only his stomach received respite from it, and even then, it took on the form of a myriad of twirling maple keys all fluttering down in a storm.

 “Three.”

 An eye witness would not have been able to tell which half of the couple shot to their feet faster. It was a soccer game too close to call. Within seconds, Makoto and Kyoko sprung to their feet and were staring at the test on the counter. A black countertop, for the sake of contrasting their white tile floors. The little white pregnancy test stuck out upon it like the strawberry slice on top of a piece of shortcake.

 One pink line, the test read.

 Not pregnant.

 It didn’t take looking at or saying anything to Kyoko to sense her disappointment. The air around here simply grew more somber to match her disappointment. He half-expected to feel her hand withdraw from his own. To have them retreat back into their shell of loneliness, just as she would do once this was over. Only… they didn’t. Her fingers stayed interlaced with his own.

 “I… I’m sorry,” it was the only thing he could think to say after he’d spent so much time comforting her, “I thought that maybe, we might-”

 She cut him off. “There is no need to apologize.” The strength in her timbre caught him by surprise. Expectation led him to believe that she would have a dash of brokenness as she spoke. That not happening caused his heart to skip a beat. When he turned to look at her, the beat skipping happened again, for he realized she wore a soft grin. “We can keep trying. We could be successful next time.”

 “You’re… Y-You’re not upset?”

 She shook her head and squeezed his hand. “How could I be? I’ve got you right here.”

[fanfictionaries]

Oh So Many Years: Ch. 13 - Uh Oh

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fred Weasley

Summary:

So they’ve kissed...now what?

Warnings: Swearing, Death, Smut/18+ NSFW

Author’s Note:

I update every week before midnight on Sundays (US MST) (except that one time)!

Please feel free to like, comment, and reblog! xoxo

Masterlist

<<Chapter 12

 If I breathe I will misplace my fear I won't walk away in anger dear Or in time I will forget And I stumble toward you with hands around your neck

 She was floating – floating in deep frigid water and while her eyes were closed, she did not need to open them to know this. The weightlessness of her body and the pressure on her ears told her she was somewhere she really shouldn’t be. Her body wasn’t meant to be there, so far below the water where only creatures of the deep lurked through the thick slimy seagrass and cavernous rock.

I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be here, the voice in Hermione’s head repeated endlessly. It grew louder and louder, giving her the strength to break from the body-binding paralysis that kept her lifeless and still. Wrenching open her eyes; she was greeted with an endless black. How far beneath the water’s surface did she have to be to see so little? Turning her head blindly, she tried to find anything that showed a way out, but again there was nothing. A great expanse of nothing. With her consciousness came the overwhelming need to breathe, but Hermione knew that she couldn’t. Unless she’d suddenly sprouted gills, it would be impossible to fill her aching lungs with anything but ice-cold water. She had to get out. Kicking her feet, she stroked through the water desperately pushing herself upwards, but it was no use. Something had her caught around the ankle, holding her in place. Frantically, she reached down and felt the rough surface of rope under her wrinkled fingertips. She grasped at the rope, pulling and twisting, trying to find the knot as she held her breath. Her heart was beginning to pound violently in her chest and her lungs screamed for the sweet relief of oxygen, but still she fought. Just as she felt the material start to give, it changed from coarse cotton to slick flesh. Hermione let out a startled scream, muffled by the water, and kicked her feet wildly at whatever was holding onto her. It’s searching fingers traveled up her calf, inch by inch. With a violent kick, she broke free from its grasp, pushing herself upwards with all the strength she had. She wasn’t confident that the way she swam was right, the darkness concealing all sense of direction, but then, she saw the light. The beautiful brightness that illuminated the water above her. Kicking with all her might she pushed herself until she broke through the surface gasping and sputtering.

Too preoccupied with letting her burning lungs fill with air, she was completely caught off guard when the world shifted around her. While floating on the water’s surface moments before, she was now falling. The sensation sending her stomach up into her throat as she let out a blood curdling scream. Hermione hit the ground hard, the soft grass beneath her doing nothing to pillow the impact. Panting heavily, she pushed up onto her hands and knees and looked around her. She was on the Hogwarts grounds. It was dusk, the sun not yet set enough to give way to the moon and stars. The grounds were empty, not a soul in sight, but the muffled sounds of a crowd could be heard. Getting to her feet, she saw in the distance, a large stadium brightly lit. There were people – they could help her. Limping towards the stadium, the sounds of the crowd grew louder and louder. By the time Hermione reached the arched entrance it was almost deafening, but when she turned the corner expecting to see hundreds of people sat on the stands, she saw no one. The voices were gone, and she was alone. Alone except for someone lying in the grass just a jog away.

“Hello?” Hermione called out, her voice echoing around her.

She took a few steps forward, the person coming into focus. A flash of jet-black hair and round-rimmed glasses were all she needed to see to know who it was. Hermione sprinted to Harry, coming to his side to find him pale and lifeless. Grasping his arm, she shook his rigid body, a tightness forming in her chest and a burning behind her eyes.

“Harry? Harry!” she shouted, continuing to shake him.

The sound of something heavy hitting the ground with force broke her focus and she turned to see a second body lying nearby. Crawling to it, she saw the dead and empty eyes of Ron as his body lay twisted and crumpled on the grass. She had barely reached him when there was another thud. And another. And another. All around her she watched as bodies hit the dewy grass with a sickening squelch of flesh and bone. So many – one after another. Everyone she knew and loved falling through the air and landing dead at her feet. She turned her tear-streaked face up to the sky slowly, afraid of what she might find. With horror she saw hundreds of bodies floating through an endless sea in the sky. They looked so peaceful, almost like they were sleeping, but Hermione knew better.

“Well, well, well…what do we have here?” asked a breathy, ominous voice.

Hermione gasped, looking back down to see a group concealed by masks and long hooded robes surrounding her. Stumbling backwards, she tripped over one of the bodies, landing hard on her bottom. Looking down she saw the helpless body of Cedric Diggory – the Hufflepuff champion. Desperately Hermione searched for her wand but found it nowhere on her person.

“Hermione,” Hermione heard a distant call of her name, but it was overpowered by the ominous voice speaking once again.

“Looking for this?” asked the voice. Hermione looked up. One of the masked and hooded figures stepped forward, towering over her, and holding out her wand. She reached for it, but before she could grasp the familiar wood, the figure snatched it away.

“Hermione,” called the distant voice again – this time coming through clearer.

The figure above her laughed, a bone chilling creaking sound. “I’m sorry dear – only witches own wands.”

“Hermione!”

Hermione shook her head, looking up at her mother’s concerned face from across the kitchen table. She’d been thinking about her nightmare again.

“Sorry mum – what did you say?” she asked, inhaling deeply, and sitting forward in her chair.

“Your father asked if you wanted one or two pancakes,” said her mother, cocking her head to the side and staring worriedly at Hermione.

“Oh—” Hermione twisted in her seat to where her father stood in front of the stove “—I’ll just have one dad. Thank you.”

“I’m worried about you, dear,” said her mother sweetly. “We just got you back for the summer and yet these past two weeks you’ve been so far away.”

“I’m sorry mum. I truly am happy to be here with you both. I just have a lot on my mind, is all,” said Hermione guiltily, looking down at her orange juice.

“Did something happen at school before you left? Something with that boy you wrote to us about? The one who took you to the dance?”

“No, no. Nothing happened. In fact, I received a letter from him the other day. He made it back to Bulgaria safely, and has started quidditch practice up again for the new season,” Hermione informed them, purposefully leaving out the true end of term events. They didn’t need to know what happened. It would only worry them. So instead she focused on the contents of Krum’s recent letter and thought fondly of him and how he’d all but begged her to write to him when they parted ways at the end of year. They’d grown quite close over the second of the term.

“Is he your boyfriend now then?” asked her father cheekily.

“Dad!” Hermione cried in embarrassment.

“Dan don’t tease the poor girl. If Hermione had a boyfriend, she would tell us…you would tell us, right?” her mother asked with false casualty.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes. Of course, I would tell you. But he’s not my boyfriend so there’s nothing to tell. He and I both agreed that furthering any relationship would not be wise. He’s all the way in Bulgaria and graduated, while I still have three more years at school. It wouldn’t work,” Hermione stated diplomatically.

“Well then, that still doesn’t explain why you’ve been so absent these past few weeks. Are you sure there isn’t something bothering you dear? You can tell us. You know we’ll support you in whatever it is.”

“Stop pestering her Jean,” said Dan, placing a plate with eggs, sausage, and a single pancake on the table in front of Hermione, before grabbing her by the wrist and pulling her out of her seat. He reached over and turned up the radio that had been playing soft music in the background. A new song picked up, lilting an old jazz tune through the small kitchen. Her father spun her in place, Hermione’s sock-ladened feet sliding easily over the linoleum, before he pulled her back into his arms and began to dance with her. “She’s a teenager now, dear. She’s probably tired of spending so much time with her boring old parents!” he declared with flourish as he dipped Hermione lightly and tapped the end of her nose with his spatula.

A giggle slipped past Hermione’s lips and she scrunched her nose.

“Old and boring? You two?” Hermione laughed as her father deposited her back into her chair. Jean’s expression was lighter now as she watched her smiling daughter begin to dig into her breakfast.

“Speaking of old and boring—” began Jean, looking teasingly at her husband.

“Watch it,” interjected Dan in a mock warning.

“We were thinking we would go and visit your father’s parents in France again this summer. We’d leave in a week.”

“Oh—” Hermione stopped mid-bite, the egg on her fork slipping back onto the plate “—again? What about your practice?”

They’d spent the last three summers in France and while Hermione did enjoy the country and seeing her grandparents, she hoped to spend at least a little time at home in Britain.

“The practice will survive without us for a month or so – no one’s getting their teeth cleaned in the summer anyways. They’re all too busy sunbathing and traveling,” said Dan, flipping a pancake over.

“As much as I love Gran and Gramps, I thought I’d spend a majority of my time this summer preparing for my O.W.L.s. I hoped to be able to go into Diagon Alley for books if I needed and I’m afraid I won’t be very fun to be around,” said Hermione, putting her fork down and pushing her plate away from her. Jean frowned at Hermione’s barely touched breakfast.

“I had a feeling you might not be keen on going—” Jean pushed Hermione’s plate back in front of her “—I hadn’t told you yet, but your father and I received a letter yesterday.”

“A letter?” Hermione’s pulse quickened – she’d artfully hidden the letter Hogwarts sent out to parents about the events of the Triwizard Tournament. How on earth was she supposed to explain to them that a student had died? Better yet – how was she supposed to explain to them that the darkest and most vile wizard Britain had ever known was back once again? They’d ask questions. They’d want answers. But most importantly, they might think twice about allowing her to go back to Hogwarts and she very well couldn’t let that happen. So, when her mother mentioned a letter, Hermione worried for a moment that perhaps Hogwarts had decided to start sending out letters through the muggle post as well.

“Yes, from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose. She opened her mouth to ask why they hadn’t given her the letter, but her mother spoke again, reading her mind.

“It wasn’t for you. It was for your father and I. They wanted to ask if it was alright if you came and stayed with them this summer holiday. Apparently, your friend Ron misses you,” said Jean, giving Hermione a wry grin.

“He does?” asked Hermione in surprise.

“Yes, it seems so.”

“Did…” Hermione paused, swallowing thickly. “Did they mention anyone…else, or anything?” she asked, feeling a tightness in her chest.

Her mother cocked an eyebrow. “No. Why?”

“No reason—” Hermione let out a shaky laugh “—I was curious if Harry was there yet or not.”

Jean nodded, but the look in her eye told Hermione that she didn’t believe her for a second.

“Anyway, your father and I wanted to wait to respond until we spoke to you.”

“Oh…well—" Hermione chewed the inner corner of her bottom lip “—can I think about it?”

“Really?” asked her mother looking slightly taken aback.

“No need to put up false pretenses for our sake, Hermione. We know you’d much rather spend your summer with your friends, than in France with us and your Gran’s five cats,” said Dan, placing a plate of food down in front of his wife and taking a seat with his own.

“Crookshanks does dislike them…” commented Hermione, looking over to where her fluffy orange cat sat on top of the refrigerator. His tail twitched back and forth as he stared down at them with a bored yet scrutinizing look.

“See, exactly. Nothing to think about!” exclaimed her father.

“Only if you two are sure. I’d hate for you to think I don’t want to spend time with you,” Hermione said, feeling both guilty for leaving her parents so soon, and nervous for spending the rest of the summer at the Burrow.

“Nonsense. We know you love us, honey. Go have fun with your friends! I think it might be good for you.” Her mother’s words were light and kind, but Hermione could tell that there was a deeper meaning behind them.

“Alright, I’ll go upstairs and pen a letter now.” Hermione scooted out of her chair, placed a quick kiss to her mother and father’s cheeks, and sprinted up the stairs to her room. When she reached the solitude of her four walls, a wave of anxiety overtook her. Hesitating in front of the white-painted desk of her youth, she contemplated for a moment whether she truly did want to spend the rest of her summer with the Weasleys. Or more accurately, one Weasley in particular. Sitting down on the small wooden chair, she allowed her mind to drift back to that night. The night of the Yule Ball.

Truly a night to remember, Viktor was more of a gentleman than Hermione could have ever imagined. She felt like Cinderella on the night of the ball, arriving in a beautiful gown and spending the evening on Prince Charming’s arm as everyone stared and gawked. She relished in the dumbfounded looks on Harry and Ron’s faces as Viktor spun her around the dancefloor. And Viktor was an excellent dance partner – not quite as good as Fred due to his general lack of grace on the ground, but still fantastic, nonetheless. But his prowess as a date didn’t end at dancing. He was complimentary, considerate, good-humored, and an enthusiastic conversationalist. Needless to say, by the time the Weird Sisters were on their fourth song, she was quite taken with Viktor Krum. So, when he locked eyes with her as a ballad played on, Hermione found no reason to object or run away. She wanted Viktor to kiss her. Unfortunately, before his lips could connect with hers, a nearby couple bumped into them, breaking the moment and also Hermione’s calm demeanor.

“Shall I get us some refreshments, Her-my-oh-nee?” asked Krum. Hermione blushed, touched that he had taken the time since they’d last spoke to practice her name. He’d gotten it right nearly every time that night.

Hermione nodded, allowing Krum to lead her off of the dance floor and over to a nearby table. “I’m actually going to use the loo. Meet you back here?” she asked, feeling a rush of warmth overtake her.

Krum nodded before turning and heading in the direction of the refreshment table. Hermione turned, exiting the ballroom, and walking towards the long hallway that held the girl’s lavatory. However, she’d only made it a few meters when a tightness formed in her chest and the world began to shift on its axis. Bracing herself against the stone wall to her left, she breathed slowly trying to calm herself, but it was no use. The air around her felt stifling and her dress was suddenly two sizes too small. Spotting a terrace across the hall, Hermione ran to it, flinging the French doors open and allowing the icy air to envelope her. She leant forwards on the stone railing, already covered in a light smattering of snow, and closed her eyes.

I just almost kissed Viktor Krum, she thought in delight. I just almost kissed Viktor Krum, she thought to herself again, this time in abject horror. Her first kiss. She’d just almost had her first kiss and gave it no thought! Was she even ready for her first kiss? She was 15. Weren’t most girls having there first kiss at 15? Hermione hated to admit she wasn’t quite sure. She didn’t know the first thing about kissing and dating. In fact, she didn’t know how to kiss at all…Oh dear, what if Viktor tried to kiss her again? What if she mucked it up? The mortifying thought grew larger and larger in her mind as she continued to stand in the freezing cold, until it was the only thing she could think about. So far trapped in her own head, Hermione didn’t hear the French doors to the terrace open behind her.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” yelled a familiar voice, breaking Hermione from her thoughts and making her jump. Her heeled feet slipped on a slick spot on the terrace and she grabbed onto the railing in front of her more firmly. Bringing a hand up to her pounding heart, she turned to see Fred.

“Merlin Fred, you scared me!” she exclaimed, taking in the sight of him. He wore a dashing set of midnight black dress robes and a purple tie. A tie that matched the deep purple of his date’s dress. Of Angelina Johnson’s dress. The sting of his extended invitation to the Gryffindor chaser was still slightly fresh. It had been stupid of her to think, for even a moment, that when Fred swore she’d receive a second invitation to the ball he meant himself. Even if he did say it after detailing just how beautiful he thought she was. She should have known they were empty words meant only to make her feel better. Still, she couldn’t help but get swept up in the moment – alone in a corridor, in front of a portrait that only he knew calmed her racing mind, with him lamenting sweet words of her lioness mane and ferocity.

“What are you doing out here?” Fred asked, taking a few steps away from the doors.

“Nothing…Viktor went to get drinks and I needed a bit of fresh air,” Hermione half-lied. She really had no desire to subject Fred to another one of her trivial problems. But this was Fred, and much to her dismay he’d become the easiest person to talk to in her life. So, when he gave her that look – the look he gave her when he knew she was lying – she couldn’t help but spill every bit of her soul.

“Oh god, Fred. I don’t know what to do!” she cried, bringing a hand up to rub at her temple, hoping it would bring her some form of mental clarity. Pushing away from the railing, she began to pace back and forth. Her whole body felt on edge, like she could burst into a full sprint and it still wouldn’t be enough to burn off the anxious feeling of self-doubt.

Fred caught her by the shoulders, bringing her to a stop in front of him. “What happened? What’s the matter?” he asked in worry, his eyes tracing up and down her person. Hermione noticed he did that a lot these days – scan her as if he were searching for something. It always put her on edge, making her wish that he’d look away and also never stop.

“Nothing, well no that’s not true. It is something, but it hasn’t necessarily happened yet and I—”

“Just tell me why you’re out here trying to freeze to death, please Hermione,” said Fred firmly. Hermione was grateful for him halting her racing words.

“I…” she hesitated, unsure of how to say what was on her mind. But ultimately, she concluded that simplicity was probably in her favor. “What if he tries to kiss me?” she asked in embarrassment, eyes falling to her feet and the building snow around them.

“I mean, you kiss him back. If that’s what you want and if it’s not what you want, then kick him in the shins. You’ve got a killer kick – I can attest to that personally,” said Fred plainly.

Hermione smiled at Fred’s attempt to use humor to diffuse her worries, but still it didn’t quell her racing mind. Looking up into the depths of his hazel eyes she confessed her deepest worry, “I just…I was dancing with him and there was a moment where I thought he might kiss me and then someone interrupted us and so we didn’t. But I had the realization that he might try to kiss me again and I’ve never kissed anyone before. What if I’m bad at it, Fred?”

Fred looked back down at her, his face twisting inscrutably. “It’s a first kiss – everyone’s first kiss is a little awkward.”

Hermione knew he was right, but she had opened the flood gates and the silly intrusive thoughts left her mouth without giving any time for her brain to process them, “Yes, but what if I’m so bad that he never wants to kiss me again? I just…I don’t know what to expect or what to do and I—”

Soft lips pressed against her own, stopping her blabbering and also her brain. The reality that she was being kissed by Fred Weasley was completely lost on her in that moment. Instead the only thing she could comprehend was the firm warmth of lips against her own. The hands that had gripped her shoulders moments before made their way in opposite directions – one sliding up to cup her face while the other wrapped around her back and gripped her waist tightly. Hermione melted into the touch, feeling a fire ignite all across her body as Fred’s lips parted, taking her lower lip between his own. She moved in tandem with him, allowing him to take the lead. Truly she did not know why she’d been so worried about kissing Viktor. This was easy, Hermione thought as she parted her lips in a gentle sigh. Then she felt the wet warmth of Fred’s tongue swipe between her open lips and something in her broke. Reaching up she wrapped her arms around his neck, lifting onto her toes to meet his kisses stroke for stroke in enthusiasm. Fred seemed to enjoy that, for he held her body tighter to his, allowing her to feel every hard plane of him through their clothes. He slid his tongue past her lips entirely then, meeting her own tongue tentatively. Hermione welcomed the invasion, a small whimper escaping the back of her throat. She wanted more, needed more.

But she didn’t get more. Instead, Fred broke the kiss, pulling away from her harshly. Hermione released her hold on his neck as he stepped back, putting her at arm’s length. Her breaths came in harsh pants as she stared up at Fred. She knew for a fact she must look like an absolute mess. She could feel the blush on her face and chest, and the swell in her lips. But Fred. Fred looked completely fine. Unbothered almost. The only evidence of their kiss, the slight pink tinge to his lips.

Fred cleared his throat, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head. “There. Now you know what to expect.”

“What?” asked Hermione dumbly, unable to process his words after what had just happened.

“You were worried about messing up your first kiss and not knowing what to expect. Now you know,” explained Fred casually.

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Thank you,” she mumbled, unsure of what else to say. “Well, I should be getting back inside. Viktor’s probably waiting for me.”

She didn’t wait for Fred to reply. Instead Hermione stepped around him and headed back into the castle, feeling the icy sting of her cold flesh as the warmth of the stone walls surrounded her once again.

A tapping on her window broke Hermione from her memory. Looking to her right she saw the familiar sight of Errol standing on her window ledge, a letter in his beak. Hermione opened the window, allowing the bird to enter. She gave him a treat in exchange for the letter and paused when she saw that it wasn’t one letter, but two. Opening the first she saw Ron’s familiar messy scrawl.

Dear Hermione,

Mum says she sent a letter to your parents three days ago through the muggle post. Have you gotten it yet? If not, it says that you’re invited to come and spend some of the summer holiday with us. If you have, please respond to this letter via Errol. You won’t believe what’s going on! I can’t say much through by letter, but I’ll explain everything once you get here.

Sincerely,

Ron

Hermione scrunched her brow in confusion. What was going on at the Burrow that made Ron so insistent she visit this summer? She didn’t usually spend summers with the Weasleys. That was more Harry’s thing. Setting Ron’s letter down and picking up the second, she stared at it with trepidation. Was it from Fred? Delicately she tore open the envelope and read:

Dear Miss Hermione Brunhilda Granger (Fred and I didn’t know your middle name, so we took a wild guess),

Ron’s told us that our mum and dad have invited you to spend the summer with us, but that you haven’t written back. What’s keeping your response and why is it the fact that you’re hopelessly in love with me (George) and you don’t know how to tell me?

No, but seriously. Please come stay with us this summer. I don’t think you’ll want to miss out on what’s going on here. Considering you’re the busy, nosy sort.

Yours truly,

Fred and George

George and Fred

P.S. – We’ve been doing a lot of inventing and we really would like your help and input.

P.P.S. – Fred’s been a mopey git lately and I need you to come and help me put him in a better mood.

Hermione stared down at the two letters in front of her for a very long time. So long in fact that Errol grew impatient and nipped harshly at her hand.

“Ouch! Errol,” she scolded the bird, picking up her quill and two spare pieces of parchment.

Dear Ron,

Tell your mum and dad that I’ve spoken with my parents and would be happy to join you and your family for the remainder of the summer holiday. My parents are to leave for France in a week’s time. Would Saturday, the 17th work?

Best,

Hermione

She finished the letter quickly, signing her name and placing it into an envelope addressed to Ron. Then picking up the next piece of parchment, she took a moment longer to stare hard at the blank page before putting ink to parchment. She could do this. All she had to do is pretend like nothing was wrong.

Dear George and Fred,

I’m afraid you’ve figured me out. I’m hopelessly in love with you George and have decided that I can’t take the distance between us any longer. Therefore, I will be spending the rest of the summer with you and your family. I hope we can use this time to explore our undying love for one another. Please, refrain from breaking my heart.

On a more serious note – I should have known that you two only wanted me for my brain. You realize at some point you’ll be responsible for your own inventions without my help. Yes?

Either way, I guess it won’t hurt for me to take a look at these new products of yours. You know, to make sure you haven’t mucked them up entirely.

Best,

Hermione

P.S. – Have you considered Fred’s only mopey because he’s jealous of our timeless love?

P.P.S – My middle name is Jean.

She finished, hoping the short letter held enough joking and light-heartedness to match George’s and seem normal. The last thing she needed was for anyone to find out that she was helplessly in love with not George, but Frederick Weasley.

***

“See, I told you she was in love with me, Freddie,” remarked George, placing Hermione’s letter down on the old wooden desk. A puff of dust floated up into the air as soon as the parchment hit the surface. Despite their mother’s best efforts, every surface of the ancient Black home still leeched grime and dirt. They’d spent the last two weeks, ever since they got back from school really, deep cleaning and attempting to bring the childhood home of Sirius Black back to life. However, Fred was beginning to feel as though it was a futile effort. Every surface cleaned, revealed a new layer of grit and dust just for them to clean again. It was beginning to weight heavily on Fred’s nerves. What was the point of having all those galleons Harry gave them from the tournament and more ideas than they knew what to do with, if they didn’t have any time to actually work on anything?

He almost wondered if his mum was doing it on purpose. Heaven forbid they spend a single moment not dedicated to clearing out pixie infestations and polishing furniture. Who knows what they’d do if left up to their own devices – why they very well might invent something that made them incredibly rich and successful? Well, their dear mum couldn’t have that, no. Not when the means of their success came from less than reputable avenues like jokes and pranks.

“She’s not in with love you, you smarmy git. If anything, she’s humoring you,” said Fred, taking advantage of their free morning to do some research for their new line of products. George, on the other hand was more preoccupied with testing out some of the few items they’d been able to successfully create. Absentmindedly, he picked up the pair of Extendable Ears and began to untangle the line between the two ends.

“Someone’s still in a right fowl mood. You know, we can’t all be lucky enough to have girlfriends. Some of us still have to play the field,” said George casually, successfully untangling the Extendable Ears and leaning against the desk, crossing his arms.

“For the last time, I’m not in a fowl mood or mopey. I’m busy.”

“Ah yes, busy. Too busy inventing and writing your girlfriend to have a bit of fun. You know, if I knew that this business idea would turn you into Percy, I never would have suggested it. What’s the use of inventing prank items for a living, if you don’t know how to have fun anymore?”

Fred looked up at his twin brother in offense. “Compare me to Percy again and I’ll show you just how wrong you are, Georgie,” Fred warned, throwing his book down onto the messy bed and rolling over to lie on his back.

George crossed the room, standing next to the foot of the four-post bed and leaning against the ornately carved wood. He stared down at Fred, giving him a look that Fred was trying very hard to ignore. Times like this he very much disliked having a twin – it wasn’t always great having someone know every sordid detail of your life and your feelings.

“Still haven’t heard back from Angelina then?” asked George, although it came out as more of a statement, really. Fred shot him a look that clearly stated that they both already knew the answer. “Well, I mean – she is at that quidditch camp thing…right? Maybe she’s not getting your letters?”

It was a suggestion George had made after Angelina neglected to respond to his second and third letter. After the fourth, Fred had decided to just give up. If Angelina cared any at all about his summer, she would write back. He sighed, bringing a hand up to run through his newly cropped hair. The first thing they’d done with the money Harry gave them was go and get proper haircuts. Harry Potter – what a saint. The mad boy didn’t have to go and give them all of his Triwizard Tournament winnings, and they genuinely tried to turn him down. It was much too much money. But he had insisted, saying he already had all the money he needed, and he didn’t feel right keeping it. He and George didn’t hold the same qualms.

“Look on the bright side, Freddie. Hermione’ll be here in a week and then we can use that big brain of hers to finish off some of these inventions,” said George, sitting down on the bed next to Fred and pulling out a piece of taffy from his pocket. Fred watched him unwrap the colorful candy before popping it into his mouth. “And she’ll have all the time in the world to do it, since her little Bulgarian boyfriend won’t be taking up all her time. Relationships really do muck up everything…” George lamented, rolling his eyes, and chewing thoughtfully.

It was true. After the Yule Ball, Hermione had been distinctly absent from the little forgotten classroom they used to house all their work. It had started small – her reasons for not hanging around. At first, she was busy with the upstart of classes again. Then, she needed to help Harry with the second task. Eventually, it was Viktor wanting to study in the library with her or accompany her to Hogsmeade weekends. One reason after another for her not to see them, to help with their inventions or to just hang out. A small part of him wondered if that was his fault. Maybe his kiss at the Yule Ball had offended her so much that she was purposefully avoiding him. But he knew Hermione, if she had considered the kiss to be any kind of insult or affront, she would have made it known. But instead, she thanked him and hadn’t brought it up since. Most likely for the best, he thought. Still, despite his nagging guilty conscience, there was the possibility that Hermione was just truly busy. Merlin knows he had been busy too.

The Yule Ball had solidified his and Angelina’s relationship. They walked the halls hand in hand. He carried her books between classes. They spent afternoons walking the grounds, talking, and kissing. Every Hogsmeade weekend was spent together. It was…nice. Angelina was a great girl, and the relationship was easy. Sure, it took quite a bit of time away from his other endeavors like pulling pranks with George and concocting products, but he supposed the sex that came with it more than made up for it.

“Yes, I’m sure having Hermione here will be much more convenient. So long as she hasn’t replaced Viktor Krum for our little brother,” spat Fred bitterly, surprising even himself with his harsh tone.

“What makes you think she’ll even give him the time of day now?” asked George, raising an eyebrow.

Fred scoffed. “Please, why do you think she broke up with Krum at the end of the school year?”

“You don’t think someone other than our baby brother could have been the cause of that?”

“Who else could it have been?” questioned Fred, giving his twin an exasperated look.

George stared at him hard for a moment before shaking his head with a small smile and answering, “No one. You’re probably right. I mean, who else could break up the happy couple but an obnoxious Weasley git?”

Fred tried not to focus on the double-meaning laced within George’s words. He couldn’t know. There was no way he could know that he had kissed Hermione. Mainly because he hadn’t told him. He hadn’t told anyone. It wasn’t like him to keep things from George. In fact, it was an entirely foreign concept to him. He’d shared everything with his twin since before he could even comprehend the concept of privacy or boundaries. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of hope at George’s speculative statement. Did he know something that Fred did not? Shaking his head at the foolish thoughts, he picked up his book again and stared at the printed words. There was no reason to feel hopeful about anything. He was dating Angelina. Hermione had a crush on Ron. Their kiss had been nothing – inconsequential really. Was he physically attracted to Hermione? Sure, but that didn’t mean anything. He was physically attracted to a lot of people. He was human after all. Therefore, it shouldn’t bother him if she were to stare googly-eyed at his baby brother while she was there for the rest of the summer. And even if it did, it would only be because it took time away from her helping them with their products.

Roughly slamming his book closed once again, he looked to George who was currently picking at a loose thread on the bed’s duvet cover. “Wanna’ go see if we can levitate Ron’s shoes to make him float upside-down?” he asked.

George let out a large breath of relief, jumping from the bed with overt enthusiasm. “Thank Merlin. I thought you’d never ask.”

Chapter 14>>>

Taglist:

@theworldisugly-22

@aoonai

@sjh-07-10

@is-it-madness

@i-d-e-g-a-f

[amazingdriverfics]

Hey sweetie, can I ask for a Kylo Ren imagine where the reader is dating him? He’s overprotective of her, and tries to keep her to where he could see her. When they were looking for someone to take a mission assignment, she volunteered. Kylo protests about it and it leads to them having a argument and says some hurtful words to her before she left. When the time came for her return, she never did. Kylo grew worried and decided to look for her. He spots the ship she took, now a wreckage site. He

Hey sweetie, can I ask for a Kylo Ren imagine where the reader is dating him? He’s overprotective of her, and tries to keep her to where he could see her. When they were looking for someone to take a mission assignment, she volunteered. Kylo protests about it and it leads to them having a argument and says some hurtful words to her before she left. When the time came for her return, she never did. Kylo grew worried and decided to look for her. He spots the ship she took, now a wreckage site. He saw it was on fire, he rushed towards it, seeing if she was trapped. But when he noticed that she was a few feet away, he rushed to her and saw she had been injured badly. Once the recovery starts, he’s there to take care of her.

A/N: I hope you enjoy this, I wrote it while listening to The Reason. Sending you tons of love, thank u for the request.

warnings: angst with happy ending, fluff, injury, implied sex. 

The Reason

Walking through the grey halls of the Finalizer rushing to the Intelligence room, you started to think of how much your life had changed since you got to know Kylo, at first the mere sight of him made you shiver, his imposing figure demanding respect and spreading fear into the bodies of everyone standing near him. That was until he noticed you. You were the best at Intelligence Department, you brought in a great amount of resistance members to the First Order and countless informations that guaranteed the success of this organization.

It was the end of your shift, you were walking as fast as you could to the mess hall dying to eat something, you had been hearing your stomach complaints for about two hours now, but you had decided to ignore em’ in order to finish what you were working on. It was a terrible decision, you were starving. And then, you crashed with a huge black figure, falling to the ground.

“Stars, what the fuck are you? A mountain?” you said trying to get back on your feet, cursing the giant in front of you of every bad name you could possibly think. When you managed to stand up and look to the man you crashed into, you frooze, your blood stopped pumping and your face lost all it’s color. “S-Supreme Leader, I’m so-so sorry, I didn’t see it was yo-you”, you whispered facing his terrifying mask.  

Great so this is how I’m going to die, starving after a work day at a corridor in this stupid ship 

“You clearly did not” the mechanic voice reverberated inside of your brain making you even more scared “Or you might have a death wish, I think you need to be taught a lesson”. 

Much to your surprise the night ended at his quarters, he taught you a lesson, but it was the most pleasurable lesson of your life.

That was the start of a series of encounters between you and the Supreme Leader, he would often take you to deserted meeting rooms, computer rooms and his own private quarters. He was an incredible and absolutely gorgeous man, but it was hard for him to open up, so it took about five months for your relationship with Ren to be more than just sexual, you fell for him fast and hard. 

Now everyone in the Finalizer knew you were Kylo’s girl. It was annoying sometimes, you weren’t able to make any new friends, they all feared your lover, and you were constantly being followed by some troopers, Kylo was very protective of you, that’s why you haven’t been outside the ship since you and him started to date. It’s not like you didn’t appreciate his concern, but you missed feeling the breeze making your hair move, the sensation of sun against your skin, the adrenaline of a mission, the high after being successful. However, every time you brought the topic on a conversation with him he quickly said no.  

You got to the  Intelligence Room still in your head, but it wasn’t long before your eyes met a red haired man, taking your thoughts elsewhere.

“General Hux, a pleasure to see you, sir” you said stopping at the door waiting for his command. 

“Thank you, L/N, I was just starting to tell you colleagues about a mission that will take place in Bespin, we need someone to infiltrate among locals and check an information about a Resistance recruiter working in the area” he said, with a monotonous voice and a certain mischief on his eyes. “I was hoping that you could take the job, you are the best at this after all and you haven’t been active in field for almost a year now”. 

“It’s a honor, sir. You can count on me”, excitement started to pump in your veins, you were thrilled, you loved to act as an undercover for the First Order the only problem would be to tell Kylo about it, you weren’t so sure he would understand, but this time you would stand your ground.

“I’m happy to hear that, L/N, we will be leaving at 0800 hours in the next cycle, see you at the hangar” he said making his way out of the room. “Yes, sir”, you answered doing your best to hide the excitement in your voice, but you were certain that you had failed.

Your anxiety increased with the passage of time, you barely touched your lunch and by the time you finished your shift you felt like you were going to die. You took the longest path to Kylo’s quarters, you knew he would feel your anxiety the moment you got closer to it, and you weren’t exactly looking forward to the conversation you were about to have. After a ten minute walk to his place you were finally standing outside the door, you typed the passcode with shaking hands.

“What’s wrong?” he said, the minute you walked in, getting out of the living room couch and making his way to you “Someone hurt you?”. You shook your head, tears of anxiety falling slowly down your face. “I w-was assigned on a field mission by Hux” you whispered cleaning your face with your hands. 

“I’ll tell him that it is not a option, don’t worry, I won’t let anyone put you at risk, love” he wrapped his arms around you “I missed you” he said into your hair. You shook your head once again, leaving his embrace “You don’t understand, Kylo. I want to go. Don’t get me wrong, I love every single moment I spend with you, but I really love what I do, I miss being undercover, I like the thrill of it, it makes me feel alive”

“That’s not up to discussion, you. are. not. going. End of story” he said with anger dripping from every word. “You are right, Kylo, this is not up to discussion, I am going, I was just letting you know, not asking for permission”, you knew it wasn’t going to be easy but you needed to be firm, to make him understand. 

“You are not going, Y/N, you are weak, you are not capable of it, you are going to fail and then you are going to get hurt. It’s that what you want?” he barked at your face, eyes filled with rage. Every single word was like a punch to your stomach. “You don’t mean this, Kylo, stop being a dick. You’re just scared”.

“Scared? You should be the one terrified, you’re a nobody in this Order, if anything happens to you, no one will remember you.” now the tears were streaming down your face, you couldn’t believe he said that, it seemed that you were back to the day that you bumped into his chest, he was a stranger to you once again.

“Well, if I’m a nobody to this Order, than I’m nothing to you, Supreme Leader” you didn’t wait for a reply, before he could hurt you again you were going back to your quarters, leaving him and his anger behind. As you turned around the hallway you could hear the sound of his lightsaber going through his furniture. 

Kylo overreacted, he knew it, but the thought of losing you killed him on the inside, you were the only good thing in his life, the reason that he got out of bed every morning, why he tried to be a decent person, and he blew his chance, his rage got the best of him. So he made a plan to win you back, Ren was standing at the hangar maskless with a basket full of your favorite things in one hand and with a speech in his head.

 A ship landed there, but it wasn’t the ship you went to Bespin with. He started to panic and make his way to the vehicle. The ramp lowered and there were a great amount of troopers with injuries and covered in dirt. The basket was quickly forgotten on the ground.

You were nowhere to be found, that’s when his eyes met Hux, he quickly made his way to the red haired man, now with dirty clothes and a purple eye. He caught the man by the throat. “Where is she?” Kylo gritted through his teeth. “The ship exploded, and she was nowhere to be found, Supreme Leader” he whispered, having trouble breathing. “Prepare my ship” Ren barked to his subordinates letting Hux fall to the ground “If she is dead, your head will be standing in my quarters walls by the next cycle”. 

His trip to Bespin was quick, his anxiety consumed every single atom of his body, he couldn’t lose you, you couldn’t die knowing that his last words to you were so cruel, he didn’t mean it, he knew you were very much capable of anything but he was so scared, he felt like the little boy he left in the past. When he got to the crash he almost emptied his stomach on the ground, the ship was destroyed, everything was on fire. Fighting against every feeling running through his body he tried to concentrate on finding your signature through the force, when he felt you he almost cried, relief coursed through him.

Your signature was there, it was a week one, which meant you were seriously injured. Without thinking Kylo made his way through the fire, and he saw you, lying on the ground with burns all over your small body, a few feet away from the crash. The following hours were a blur. He saved you and soon you two were back on the Finalizers hangar. He stayed with you in the med bay and threatened every single doctor encouraging them to save you.

 You had had serious burns and broken bones caused by the impact when you were thrown away by the explosion. When you woke up you were in so much pain that all you could do was scream, he held your hand and let you squeeze it as hard as you needed. The treatment was long and hard, Kylo wished that he could take away all of your pain, but even his force healing abilities weren’t developed enough to do that. So he stayed there, by your side, helping you eat, helping you shower, helping you take your medication, talking to you until you slept, holding you tenderly through your nightmares. After two months in the medical bay, you got permission to get back to his quarters, you still had daily appointments to check on your burns and physical therapy to attend.

Walking was still a challenge for you since you broke your pelvis so he carried you there, and covered you with love. Your fight was now long forgotten, he apologised when you were still in the med bay, and it didn’t take you long to forgive him, you could see in his eyes how much he loved you, and his actions didn’t fail to prove that you were right. Ever since the crash Kylo whispered how much he needed you and adored you every single night before you slept. A year after he saved your life Ren asked you to marry him and you didn’t think twice before saying yes.

@originalposter-96

[visual-explorxtion]

The One That Got Away [Leon S Kennedy x Reader] - One Shot (NSFW)

Synopsis: You caught your boyfriend cheating and you're looking for an emotional getaway in a bar. Until you met Leon and you both instantly hit it off. But not everything is what you hoped it would be.

A/N: This one took way too long. I've started writing this prior to everything I've posted and it was on and off in between. Imagine this as older Leon (RE Damnation and up). I had a basic outline of the plot but kinda got derailed further I wrote and now it's a smutty, angsty and depressing fic (Three for the price of one). I thought I wrote too much and also not enough but it turned into a 5 page fic. And I also didn't realise I was writing in first person until halfway through. So, bone apple tea.

Word count: 3,842

The low murmurs and whispers of conversation surround the dimly lit bar, just two blocks away from my own apartment. I thought I could catch a break from my reality and sit silently with a drink in my hand. Hoping that I would get drunk enough to let my thoughts shut down, even just for a little while. But my mind circles back to him. My so-called boyfriend. Even though we are dating, our relationship just seems so...platonic.

I shake my head and took another sip of my drink. The ice cubes are slowly diluting the burning sensation of whiskey down my throat. Soon, this wouldn't be enough to forget all my problems. Irritated by my drink, I set it back down on the bar table, hoping that the aftertaste of alcohol would take my conscious away. I place the glass gently back down on the coaster and nudging it back and forth until it is exactly in-line with the circumference.

I leaned forward, pressing my forearms against the chilly, oak bar table. The sharp sensation ran up my arm, sending goosebumps along with it, awaking my drunken state. That was the last thing that I want. Reality setting back in.

The place was illuminated by the strip lights underneath the bar table and several backlights coming from the shelves of liquid. My bleary eyes tried to focus as I lift up my hand to signal one of the bartenders. But, to no avail, they do not seem to notice my presence. "Goddamnit..." I muttered under my breath. At this point, I could just slip out of this place and they won't even know it. I thought about it for a second but decided that it was a bad idea.

"Bad night, huh?" A low, raspy voice called out. I looked towards my left, where the voice came from. A man sat two seats away from me. His fringe covered most of his face so I couldn't tell what he looks like, but his chin was in view, chiselled and full of stubbles that could be seen even in a place with poor luminosity. "You wouldn't even know it," I answer, surprised that someone notices my existence. I've seen this man before. He's always here when I come to this bar, sitting in the exact same seating. I assume he's one of the staffs here, but he could just be a regular. Either way, it isn't any of my concern.

He chuckled, "I've had a handful of those before. I understand how you feel." His head angled slightly towards my direction. His face is now just peeking out from behind his golden hair. His eyes are piercing blue, like a vast ocean full of mysteries. He's handsome, beautiful even, but full of pain and hurt beneath it all. How could a man be so beautiful, and yet, so fragile?

I scoffed at his response, taking another sip of my now watered-down beverage, eyes returning to his gaze. "I'm sure you do," I spoke, resting my chin on my palm, giving him a smug grin. Maybe this is what I need, talking to a stranger, surely this will take my mind off a lot of things. He shook his head and smiled. "Hey, I'm Leon. You come here often?"

My brows furrowed and a little smirk came out of my lips. "If you're looking for someone to warm up your bed, then I can assure you, you've got the wrong girl," I paused, "I'm already seeing someone." Those words made my stomach wrench. I know full well that I'm the one that's seeing them, but they don't see me. No, not in the same way. Not anymore.

A breath escaped through his nose as he replied, "Well, I guess that makes the two of us...kinda." He takes a final sip of his bourbon and signals. "Another round...and make that a double." The bartender nodded and pulls out two glasses from under the bar table, now half-filled with alcohol, the bartender place one glass in from of me and slid the other one in from of Leon. I raise the glass up with my thumb and index finger by the rim, inspecting its content. The backlight is shown through the transparent liquid and dispersed in all direction, it's pretty and hypnotic. Though, the effect of the drink itself isn't as pretty as you'd think.

"Glass half full or empty?" My question sounded more like a statement. Leon gave a little laugh to my expression. My cheeks slowly burned up into a pink hue as I relived those words inside my mind. How stupidly naive I must have sounded.

Leon took the hint of my embarrassment and also raised his glass. "I'm neither an optimist nor a pessimist. All I know is that this is a good bourbon. And sometimes, that's all that matters." He reached out with the drink in his hand. I stared at it for a good while, "I think we could both agree on that." I smiled to myself as I return the gesture. Our glasses emitted a small clink to our small celebration. Bottom of the glass now upturned and down goes the alcohol, the scorching feeling made my face scrunch up. The bourbon slowly making its way into my bloodstream as the room that surrounds me spin like a carousel.

Hours go by, the muttering of conversation comes and goes, I have no recollection of our exchange, yet some faint pieces of memories spark up in my head. Knowing that you were a stranger, I spilt all my secrets, my fears and weaknesses, but you just listened and nodded along. An emotion blooms inside me, a warmth, telling me that we are the same type of people, the way we understood each other. We are lonely and just wanna belong somewhere.

Every day, I look forward to the moment when the sun hangs low and the moon comes up to dance, almost every night, I wander back into the bar with a light flutter in my heart. Knowing full well that Leon would be there, in the exact same seating, a glass of bourbon to accompany him. I found my life with meaning once again, understanding that I am not alone. Our conversations found their way of chatting about my life, to his. The story of his life and the things he had done shaped the person he is now. Though I know he speaks truthfully, I can't help but notice the gaps in his biography that he decided not to fill in. Whether to think after everything he revealed would make me scared of him, or I would look at him in a pitiful way, but that did not matter. The Leon I met, he's nothing like how he described himself. In my eyes, he's a soft and gentle soul, who got a few humorous tricks up his sleeve.

Sometimes, I think I'm somewhat emotionally detached, even if the sky topples, my mental state will remain calm as the world crumbles around me. I wouldn't scream, nor would I cry, I'll just quietly accept this as my fate.

And fate's plan came crashing down on me in one swift motion. Not even a second too early or too late. My most traumatic and emotional experience, all happened in a small time frame of one sunny morning. When you live through a memorable moment in life, good or bad, they become forever etched into our brain. Just like a movie. But, that same scene plays over and over again, until you can't handle it anymore. The sight of your ex-boyfriend in bed with a woman that's not you. Her hair and eyes resemble your appearance, eyes gleaming in a dark hue with their soul still intact. But, you're not her. And she's not you. He didn't choose you.

The lookalike gripping her hands around his toned arm, trembling in fear of what might happen next. What I would do next. My vision holds not her, but the so-called of a man, whom I just realise is nothing but a coward. The air around the room is thick and heavy, no words were spoken, not even an explanation or an apology. Under the hint of light, silence can be heard, from his blank expression, I knew the answer. I left not because of a broken heart, but because I don't belong there anymore. And I'd be lying to myself if I say I wasn't sad. Deep down, you knew this was bound to happen. You knew this from the very beginning, the spark wasn't there. You just weren't ready to admit the facts because you are afraid. Afraid of being alone again.

Waves of emotions hit one after another. Exchanging between grief and relief, this emotional loop cycles on. The crystal glass in my hand mirrors my mental suffering. Once empty, then full again and empty once more. Now drowning in a pool of liquor, until I can no longer distinguish between night and day, I hope this cycle never ends.

"Isn't it a little too early to hit the bottle?" A familiar voice came into my earshot, "Well, if it isn't my new-found buddy, Leon! Come, drinks are on me!" The laughter in my throat refusing to cease, everything is now on autopilot. The room sways back and forth to the beat of the music, every bassline played made my head blurrier each time, the lights in the bar almost seem like someone crank the exposure to the highest level. He sighed and took a seat, seeing there's no other option. "Jesus...how many have you had?" His concert did not reach me as I just skimmed over his question. "Hmm...4? 5? I lost count...but who cares?! I'm here to have a good time!" I exclaimed, both fists pumped up in the air and chuckling idiotically to myself.

Leon's brows scrunch, a finger rubbing at his temple, the crease on his forehead gets deeper by the minute. His drink arrived but his focus was elsewhere, he would take one sip, then looks back at me, contemplating. "H-hey, aren't you supposed to...protect the city or s-something, Mr detective-man-or-whatever?" I hiccuped, with half my speech slurred. "I'm not a cop. I don't...can't protect people." He took another sip. "Isn't that...hic...what you've told me?" I pressed on, this isn't what I've intended to do. He exhaled, "It's complicated." A drunken smirk left my nose, the alcohol had intoxicated my system and left my mouth defenceless. "Is it really that complicated? Or do you just not want to tell me the truth?" Jesus! Shut up, me! I can see the rage boiled behind his darken eyes, his fists gripped and nails digging deep into his flesh. "You. Need to stop drinking."

The clock strikes midnight, but neither one of us had any intentions to sober up or face whatever reality has prepared for us. We laughed, argued and make flirtatious jokes to one another. The air between us shifted, hot but still intoxicated. Even so, my mind still lingers on the images that shattered my heart into a million pieces. I don't want this anymore. "Hey...what if I kiss you right n-now? How would you react?" I giggled. "Sure. I'd be glad to," he said, facetiously. "Pfff, come on! I'm serious!" another hiccup. "You're drunk and trying to take the piss out of me." I locked eyes with him, setting my next words in a serious manner. "Am I? Why don't you come and find out?" I slid my hand from his forearm down to the back of his hand, drawing circles with my index finger, tempting and testing his borderline. A small grunt caught in between his lips, gaze running up my skin and idly to my mouth, his fixed stare lingered what feels like an eternity until we meet eye to eye.

What happens next came to me like a blur. I took his hand and led him away from the bar. The place was too packed for anyone to know if we were gone by the next second. We stumble away through the crowds of drunks living on cloud nine, but our hands kept a grip tight on one another. I pushed on; wanting to feel something, anything, even just for tonight. The burning desire inside has reached its limit, but so was Leon's. He twirled me around and constrained my backside up against the bathroom door. His body leaned in close to mine, our faces just an inch apart. The feverish breath touched my neck, turning me on even more so. I can feel his hesitation as his lips close within range, just hovering close to yours. "Would it really kill you if we kiss?" my words were hushed, giving him the final push. And those were the few words to make him let go of his rationality. Before I could acknowledge my next thought, his hand slip under the back of my neck with a firm grip and our mouths collided in the heat of the moment. His kiss was strong and passionate, everything that I imagined it would be, my hips feeling every inch of his, teeth gently grazing my bottom lip as I parted them to deepen his taste. Heat radiates off his chest as our tongues now intertwined with the taste of bourbon and sweetness, Leon showed no signs of backing down as his hand squeeze my hip tighter. But we had to break our physical contact when the chatter grew louder from inside the bathroom. Our hearts still racing, panting breathlessly and aching to be together again, though both of us would rather avoid being caught in an awkward situation.

My body mindlessly took us further down the deserted corridor to a backdoor that leads to an alleyway, the door itself could easily be missed if not observed carefully. I extended a hand to push open the door but was abruptly interrupted by Leon's demanding kiss. Eager to be whole again, he hoisted me off the ground effortlessly, binding my leg around his slender waist. The faint sound of music could be heard from the interior of the building, imitating the beat of our hearts. My back is up against the rugged wall once more. His nails dug into my thigh as I whimpered at the pain but Leon's kiss grew more hungry and impatient, urging for something more. The heat between my legs burning white-hot for this man with absolute longing. As if he could read my thoughts out loud, his hand travelled up to the waistband of my jeans, a finger hooked underneath and running it across my waistline and stopping just before where the buttons clasp. His tease sends chills along my lower abdomen, I'm struggling to keep up my composure.

Leon's icy blue gaze pierced through me, signifying his needs. "Do it." With the sign of my approval, he ripped the jeans clean off my sweat-covered legs without a hitch. My bare limbs glistening in the moonlight, reflecting off the moisture with the gentle breeze caressing them. The heat on my face grew, knowing that my lower parts are only concealed with a thin layer of fabric that's half opaque. Leon smugly grinned at the sight presented to him, licking off the residue from our kiss, he lets me down delicately as my feet touch the sturdy ground. He shifted and on both his knees, positioning himself in between my legs, feeling nervous being fully exposed to him. I stifled a gasp as Leon steady my balance with hands on either side of my hips, his kisses trail down the torso, leaving marks all over my stomach, down to my v-line. His soft fingertips skim the hem of pants then he dipped his head low, the black, lacy underwear caught between his teeth, removing them until I'm left bare and vulnerable.

I can feel his eyes exploring every inch of uncovered skin, like a wolf with his hunting instinct. His mouth found its way to your folds. The next thing you know, a foreign feeling spreads open your lower organ, heat escaping from your core and drip down to your inner thigh. You squirm and twitch with every movement of his tongue, chest rapidly rising and falling with each breath taken, you know you are close to the edge. Your hands clench his hair gently as he continuous drive over your sweet spot, humming, until you unravel your senses upon him. Knees giving out as everything tingles from head to toe, Leon catches you in his arms as you recover your strength.

Cleaning you off with the tip of his tongue, he reclaims his posture to tower over you and returns lips onto yours. The passionate kiss filled with desire, you can taste your own thirst mixed with his own saliva. Sultry and sweet. Chest to chest, every curvature and dips of his toned muscles embrace my own, our heartbeats synchronised. His scent of cologne mixed with sweat gives me a sense of comfort. I can feel the outline of his bulge through the thick fabric. One hand placed on the small of my back, the other desperately uncuffs his belt and down to his pants, revealing his length. My eyes widen in awe at the size of his...thing. It's pressed up against my abdomen, from shaft to the tip, Leon seems to be satisfied with my reaction as his egotistic smirk painted across his face. I swallow, mentally preparing myself before any attempt on riding him. Holding the base of his cock, now positioned near your entrance, you draw a hand near it and gently massage it. As if it's fragile, my hand gave it a few pumps then guide his tip inside. All that foreplay made it much easier for him to enter.

His tip without any difficulty. "Breathe" his deep, husky voice whispers in my ear, then inch by inch, until he fills up all my crevices inside. He took a pause, letting me adjust to his size for a minute, then slid back out again. Without a word of warning, he thrusts his cock back in all the way to the hilt as I let out a lusty yelp. The electric shock sends my pelvic muscles twitching and tensing around his cock, the repetitive motion causes me to ache for him even more. My hips sway and grind along to the beat of his movement, harder and faster, making him let out a soft cuss. The twinge at the back of my mind resurfaced again, flashbacks of this morning's event, haunting my thoughts again. Standing in the same doorway, looking at him and her on the same bed, same stiffness in the air. But, I'm looking at me through her eyes now, situated in this dark alley. The fear crept in. I can't love him. I know better than this.

"Hey. Just focus on me." Leon's hands cupped my cheeks, radiating the warmth I know, calling me back to the light. His tongue has taken up my mouth once more, diverting my focus from my own broken mind to the love he's providing. But you shouldn't. Hips picking up the pace, every bump and vein hitting my sensitive spot as I cry out, calling his name out in ecstasy. Leon's breathing is getting heavier with every beat he thrusts, bringing me and him closer to coming undone. Hot liquid spilling out, filling you up to the bream, overflowing like my emotions. The feeling he provided which shifted something inside, a beacon of light into my own soul. He pulled out, the inner content spilling out slightly as we redress ourselves again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. The pang of guilt hit him. Just like everyone else. My feet stumbled a few steps back, almost tripping myself up in shock. The tears behind my eyes threaten to fall out. I have to get out of here. I spin on my heels and made a run for it. This isn't how it is supposed to turn out. I know better. Knew. "Wait! At least let me take you home-" "No!" My feet kept on pushing me, yelling at me to keep going. Hot tears pour out inevitably, unlike tonight. It's all my fault. I naively believed that we were the same- wanting the same thing, am the same type of people. I was wrong. All I ever wanted was to stop being alone, but you chose this. You wanted to be alone. And I've made a mistake. "Wait, goddamnit." I stopped in my tracks, tears falling nonchalantly. I turned, leaving him with only a few words. "I'm sorry...but I fell in love with you tonight." But we both knew the answer.

---

[nightglider124]

Simulation

So, like most people... I was not impressed with the newest and last in the series DCAMU movie; JLD: Apokolips War. 

It was honestly like some kind of awfully written fanfic. I hated it and my otp were literally tormented, so not a fan lmao. 

So, I did what most writers do in these scenarios. I wrote a bit of a fix it fic. It’s cliche and similar to ‘it was all a dream’ but it felt like a bit more of a believable route. They did it in YJ so I thought why not. 

Anyway, I hope this helps as some kind of comfort after watching that atrocious piece of garbage. ^.^

____________________________________________________

The light filled the entirety of the sky, stroking licks of gold and blinding white all across the planes of existence, swelling and growing until it was suffocating everything and everyone that was within its path.

It was enveloping them by the second, growing stronger and stronger and despite how hard Damian narrowed his eyes to try and catch one last fleeting glimpse of Flash sprinting across the ocean, in an attempt to reset their fractured timeline, the struggle was becoming one he could not control.

His chest felt tight, like all the air was slowly being released from his lungs and his heart was hammering, right against his ribcage. 

Casting a glance over his shoulder, he watched as Clark and Diana shielded their eyes from the onslaught of light that was swallowing them up. When he turned his head towards his father, however, he found Batman staring straight back at him, as if he knew something the others did not; something that he wanted Damian to piece together himself. 

His head was filled with so many things; memories, information… emotions.

No matter how much he tried to push it away, there was a weight in his heart. He had survived this ordeal with Darkseid, as well as those who currently surrounded him, even though the numbers were a little less than he had hoped for when they began the secondary crusade at redemption for those they had lost to the Apokoliptic tyrant two years prior. 

And yet, he didn’t feel like it was a victory. It felt bittersweet. They had finally won but at what cost? 

Half of humanity had been eradicated from existence or molded into some kind of slave herd to do Darkseid’s bidding for him. His friends, his team, his family; all of it had been ripped away from him and there was no coming back from it. There was no way to salvage what had happened, no matter what Kent was trying to spew as a pep talk.

The morale was empty and at that moment, waiting for the effects of the flashpoint to seize control of their world and rectify the magnitude of problems felt like an eternity but they had to wait; to simply sit and wait for their absolution and for the world to restart, not that any of them would remember.

That would probably be for the best. He didn’t want to remember living in this kind of dystopian future where everywhere he looked, there was destruction and roaring flames accompanied by an unsettling silence where in its stead should have been the reverberation of crowds and people, living their lives on a day to day basis.

Damian sighed and from where he sat, he glanced at Raven, dressed in her white uniform and cloak. He wasn’t sure how they’d gotten to this point in their relationship and it felt… unusual to him, like something wasn’t right, including where his feelings were concerned in accordance to the girl beside him.

He cared for her deeply; she was a teammate, his friend but anything more? He couldn’t be certain.

Shaking his head, Damian decided not to dwell, knowing whatever he was feeling would soon be erased and he would wind up with a completely different mindset in just a few minutes.

He scanned his surroundings from beneath his mask and his eyes fell upon his former team leader and his… brother. 

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Damian couldn’t stop how the weight became heavier, pulling his heart down towards his stomach like a wrecking ball was attached.

Raven was right. He had promised not to use the Lazarus Pit to revive Dick but, when everything was said and done and the dust had settled on the Titans joint demise, having tried their damndest to ensure Darkseid wouldn’t break their defenses and claim Earth, he felt cheated.

He had finally found a family who accepted him, flaws and all and he was supposed to just accept having them brutally torn away from him?

He couldn’t leave his brother there. He couldn’t just leave Dick lying there in a pool of his own blood, still trickling out from the wound in his chest. 

Damian had wanted to save all of them but he knew time had been of the essence. The quicker someone can be taken to the pit, the more likely it is that they will return as themselves. Or at least, that was what his grandfather had told him once as a boy. 

He hadn’t known how true it was or even if it was true at all but he had gotten Dick to the temple as quickly as he could.

Not that it had mattered in the end.

He’d gotten there too late. His heart had held hope that he would return to the living, just as he was but it wasn’t to be.

Damian exhaled through his nose and allowed the memory of that day to fade. He didn’t need to relive that as well. The straight jacket Dick constantly wore was reminder enough as to why he had immediately regretted using the pit. 

There are some things worse than death. He knew that now. Too bad it was about two years too late.

His eyes wandered across Kory’s face and his brows furrowed, aghast at what Darkseid had done to her. After he had returned ‘home’ to the League of Assassins, or what was left of it at least, he hadn’t looked back; didn’t have any knowledge of what had become of his dead teammates.

Some of them remained dead whilst others had purposes that did not expire when their lives had. Darkseid had ensured the strongest were put to work amongst his ranks, whether they wanted to or not. 

Kory had become one of his guards, with most of her body replaced with parts and machinery, perfecting her into a loyal, brainwashed slave; something Kory had once told him that she never wanted to be again.

Damian watched as Kory gently stroked some of Dick’s hair out of his face. His head rested on her lap whilst twitching and mumbling every now and then, his mind a warped version of what it had once been before any of this. It ticked overtime for different reasons now. 

He saw the hesitation, recognised the look of someone who now viewed themself as some kind of monster. She was careful of her hands, her fingers now replaced with metal daggers that looked sharp enough to cut steel if given the chance.

Kory lowered her hand and stared down at Dick, who was yet to wake from his tormented slumber. Damian took solace in the fact he had seemed to recognize Kory, somewhat.

When he had brought him to Titans tower where, what was left of their backup plan party, decided to rendezvous, he had been manic and animalistic, hissing and trying to attack those around him who he had once called friends.

Damian hadn’t been sure if it was a good idea but his father had suggested it, to start on resolving the problems caused from this apocalyptic fallout. 

When Kory had stepped forth, her lime eyes lingering on her love, Damian had seen tears; uncommon when it came to Kory considering her warrior upbringing. It caused her pain, of that he knew, if only from the way her footing faltered and she stayed back, in fear; something she had never ever felt around Dick in the life they’d shared before.

But, Dick had surprised them all, staring at her for a long moment and it gave him a strange flicker of hope that possibly, a piece of the real Dick was still in there somewhere, lost amongst all the mess in his mind. 

He had still been hesitant as she offered a hand to him. He jerked back but then stepped forward until he let her lead him to where they sat now. Damian was certain that things may change when he woke up but for now, it seemed to be enough for Kory just to spend these last few minutes with him, unaware of what awaited them in the new timeline Barry was creating. 

Just a few minutes of peace, sitting there with one another. 

Damian looked away, suddenly feeling like he was intruding on something private to the couple, if he could even call them that anymore. 

His eyes shifted to the ocean, stretching wide and untouched in front of them, mother nature clearly protecting her own. The waves were gentle, flowing and ebbing and repeating. It seeped forward, water rushing over the bed of sand at the edge of the island before it retreated back from where it came.

Suddenly, there was a resounding pulse that rocked the air around them and a ringing in his ears started growing louder with each passing moment. The sound was becoming piercing and unbearable, so much so he had to lift a hand to one of his ears and grind his teeth in an effort to make it stop. 

The ground beneath their feet shook wildly as existence prepared to repair what had been damaged. That light that had been burning in the distance shone brighter, stretching over their heads now and soaring in from behind them as well, fully encompassing the last of the world’s greatest heroes and everything in the area, sentient or not. 

Damian gulped again, his mind confirming that Barry had done it and reality was resetting itself.

His skin felt sharp and he felt lightheaded, unable to make out any shapes or sounds around him anymore. His arms felt like they were being pulled away from his body, like something was expanding in his chest.

Damian willingly allowed what he assumed was the erasure of his being. He let a sigh of relief slip from between his lips as he finally felt himself disappearing into nothingness, along with all the other heroes around him.

Squeezing his eyes tightly closed, he waited for their finality to come.

He was ready for it to change; go back to how it was before… before any of this.

No one deserved a fate such as this one. _______ Damian’s eyes snapped open and he gasped a haggard breath, his heart beating a mile a minute as all he could see was the blurred lights from the ceiling above his head. 

His fingers dug into what felt like sheets beneath him as he struggled to control his rapid breaths.

“Damian.” 

He recognized the steel tone of his father and he shot upward, moving fast enough to make his head spin.

Remembering his training since the age of two years old, he took a deep breath and exhaled through his nostrils, taking charge of his body once again.

He narrowed his eyes and pressed a hand to his temple, tiling his chin upward to see his father, wearing the cowl, sat just on the end of the little makeshift bed he appeared to be in.

“It’s alright, Damian… you’re back now. Everything is fine.” Bruce explained, nodding and giving no emotion away under the bat guise he had grown so comfortable in.

“Back?” Damian paused, “Back where?” 

“In the real world. The simulation is over. The others are starting to wake up.” Batman informed him before he stood up and looked down upon his son,

Damian only just now was noticing exactly where he was. 

High tech lined against the walls, the view of the solar system outside the huge glass windows and the metal paneling along the computer systems was enough to drag him straight back to reality. The watchtower wasn’t a place that a person could easily forget. 

Turning his body, he watched as his friends; the Titans started to come to from their unconscious states as well.

“Ugh… Bruce, when you said… you wanted us to go through training simulation… that was a lot different than what I thought you had in mind.” Dick groaned from his place several beds over from where Damian sat,

Nightwing sat up, rubbing his forehead and shaking his head as if getting over the remnants of a bad dream. He rolled his shoulders back before checking on each and every member of their team, all of them in a similar position to how he was sat. 

Donna was sitting with her legs crossed, Raven too and on the other side of them, Gar was still lying down but with an arm thrown across his face, moaning with nausea symptoms.

Kon, Jaime and Wally were already quietly murmuring between themselves over what they had just gone through and witnessed.

Dick turned his head to the left, his heart racing at some sounds he just knew belonged to Kory. He smiled softly as he watched her rub her head, fingers sliding through her long auburn hair that pooled beautifully down her back. 

“Ow… that was... much more brutal than I had anticipated…” Kory grunted, stretching her arms above her head in an attempt to make her mind less muzzy. 

“How are you all feeling?” Diana asked, addressing them all as she stood at the panel, clicking a few buttons to ensure the simulation had ended properly as well as making sure no one was still unconscious. 

“Like I just got smacked in the head with a shovel…” Gar voiced, whining as he forced himself into a sitting position,

“That will pass in a few minutes. It took Vic a long time to figure out how to make this program without it having a lasting effect on us.” Superman told them, offering them one of his gentle smiles.

“Clark… what was this?” Dick asked, his brows furrowed as he stared at the man of steel, “I mean… now that I’m awake… I have it coming back to me that this was part of a… training exercise but after seeing… everything we just saw in there… I’d say it’s a little overboard just for mandatory training.” 

Superman sighed, losing the smile and he stared up at the images now lit upon the hologram screen behind him. There were photos of Darkseid and his homeworld, with some recent footage of said tyrant moving across planets in the furthest parts of the galaxy.

“Recently, there has been movement on Apokolips and footage was retrieved of Darkseid… taking control of three planets in his own dimension. They were small and lacked much life.” 

“But there was some life on those planets, right? Kory murmured, her brows knitted together in concern,

Clark nodded solemnly, “There was, Kory. To us, right now… Darkseid is not a threat. To the best of our knowledge, he isn’t considering Earth as a target to take control of. But, that could change, very quickly.”

“We don’t take his recent movements lightly and we’ve begun preparing different strategies and plans for when the time is right.” Bruce continued, his dark cape curling around his feet as he moved, “The simulations that just played out… they were completely in your mind, programmed by Vic for you to witness, as if you were there and what the possible outcomes could be, should we take the route that was created in this scenario.”

“Isn’t that…  a bit overkill? To design a program simply to test possibilities that might just be… hypothetical?” Jaime queried, dragging his knee to his chin as he stared at the three Justice League members. 

Superman made a small noise of apprehension before he looked back up, his eyes glossing over each and every member of the Titans, “None of you have ever had to face Darkseid… thankfully. He is… an interdimensional despot who holds immense power. He is not a criminal to be taken lightly. All the things you saw in this simulation are things he has been known to do to those planets he has already desecrated. Brutality and violence are his weapons and we need to be prepared for any situation involving him.” 

“These simulations are only being tested on the Justice League and Titans when we feel we may have mapped a possibly victorious battle plan. They will be few but this was one that had been considered, early on in our knowledge of what Darkseid has been doing.” Wonder Woman elaborated,

“But that plan clearly didn’t work… so why would you show it to us?” Raven asked, her dark eyes brushing across Clark who had apparently become her travelling companion when the world went down the drain in the simulation,

“We wanted to show you so that you can help us to rectify where… we may have gone wrong in the plan.” Clark told them,

Damian folded his arms over his chest, “It was probably taking the war to Darkseid without realizing how dangerous it would be which in the simulation, you already seemed to realize once it was too late.” He paused and thought back on something from the simulation, “Oh and… there was the fact Darkseid knew the whole plan from hacking Cyborg’s cybernetic eye.” 

Superman nodded his head, “Yes, we’re… talking to Victor about preventing this. It would have probably ended differently in the simulation, had Darkseid not learned everything before the plan was executed.” 

“You can’t plan for what you don’t know yet.” Raven reminded them,

Clark gave her a smile, “No, but we can try in order to keep our future as far away from the possibility of what you just lived through.” 

The Titans nodded amongst themselves, understanding their efforts and all secretly hoping they wouldn’t have to face anything like what they’d seen for a long time or ever, if the universe deemed them lucky.

“I can’t believe I died right at the start!” Gar complained, his playful nature reinserting some lightheartedness where it was desperately needed, “I mean… a guy plays all the video games in the world and I can’t even make it?”

Raven smirked and glanced at him, “I don’t think video games and Darkseid are exactly the same, Gar.”

He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest, “Yeah, well. I’m not happy about it! I want a redo!”

Damian rolled his eyes before raising a brow at him, “You want to live through that all again?”

Gar paused and blinked several times before grinning sheepishly, “Uh… on second thought… I’m good. Sad I went out that early but y’know what… I’m good!”

“If you’re all feeling a little more with us now, come into the hall. We want your feedback.” Batman told them, leading the way into the hall, followed by Diana and then the Titans, with Superman politely showing them the way through the watchtower.

“Feedback on this training? Hm… that would be a solid 0/10, Bruce.” Dick muttered as he helped Kory hop down from the medical bed she had been perched upon, earning a quiet giggle from her,

Clark smiled at the two as they continued after the other Titans, right on Batman’s heels to give their input into what the Justice League were planning, in case of an emergency.

_______________

Gar’s mouth stretched wide as he lifted his arms over his head and yawned loudly, earning an elbow in the stomach from Donna as she passed him,

“Ow! Hey! What’d I do?” He grumbled, rubbing the spot she had hit,

“Do you really have to be that loud, Gar?” She laughed, shaking her head, “Just yawn like a normal person, would you?” 

He smirked, flashing a fang in her direction, “Nah, there’s no fun in that.”

Kory cleared her throat before they could all escape in opposite directions to their respective bedrooms, “Titans. I need to speak with you all for a moment, please.” 

The group exchanged glances between one another, curiosity washing over each of them before they shuffled towards the couch, situated just in front of the large window panes where the moonlight was already beginning to filter through. 

“Are… we in trouble? Whatever it is… I didn’t do it.” Kon rebuffed, immediately holding his hands up in defense as he took a seat on the edge of the sofa,

“Me either!” Gar and Jaime added simultaneously,

Kory smiled softly and shook her head at them, walking around until she stood before them, “No. You’re not in trouble; any of you.”

“So… what do you want to talk to us about, Kory?” Raven queried, giving her leader a small smile,

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened today.” 

Gar’s brows knitted together, “You mean the training over at the watchtower?” 

The Princess nodded her head, her long red locks falling over her shoulder.

Damian narrowed his eyes, equally perplexed and confused as his teammates, “What about it?”

Kory took a deep breath and folded her arms over her chest, “Well… the things in the simulation that happened, that you saw… it was…” She paused and tried to grapple for the correct word,

“Pretty traumatic.” Dick interjected, aiding her and coming to stand by her side, having a feeling he knew what Kory was aiming for with this little chat, “And, it’s okay if it affected you guys. God knows… it was a lot for a training session based on possibility.”

Instead of doing what the adult Titans thought they would, the younger roster of heroes remained silent, all of them contemplating and reflecting on what they had been witness to whilst under the spell of the simulation. 

Kory frowned and her brows wrinkled before she looked to Dick, who only matched her facial expression. 

“I mean… I joked about being murdered by those parademon things so early on in it but… it was pretty scary. The simulation was designed differently so we didn’t wake up as soon as we died inside of it. I had to watch it all unfold… like some kind of horror movie… not so cool when it’s your friends being killed instead of fictional characters.” Gar mumbled, his jade eyes focused on the coffee table before them with his hands pressed firmly to his thighs. 

Jaime nodded, “It was… espantoso. It just… went south so quickly.”

Donna made a noise of agreement and shuddered, as if gripped by a memory from the simulated battle. Wally looked off to the side, unable to speak about what he felt, just yet anyway.

Kon lifted his chin and his usual boisterous and cheeky demeanour had slipped, “I don't know if it was worse or not… living longer in that world wasn’t much fun either.” He gently reached a gloved hand to his neck and he closed his eyes, “I can still remember how… my neck…”

He coughed and shook his head, clamming up from talking through the experience of it all.

Kory looked towards Raven and tilted her head, as if encouraging her to speak about how she had felt, “Raven?”

She lifted her head and lowered the hood of her cloak from her head, “I… It was… I’ve seen terrible things before. Being the daughter of an interdimensional demon will do that but this… it was barbaric and I hope it never actually comes to pass.”

Dick nodded, “Well… this is why the league is trying to come up with a more solid plan, a way to be ready should Darkseid be a problem we need to worry about.” He paused and shrugged, “Safe to say… Clark’s plan of going head on into a war with Darkseid on his home world is no longer the plan on the table.”

“There were too many inconsistencies and problems with his plan. But, it would have been intriguing to see if it worked, had Darkseid not found out through Cyborg’s cybernetics.” Damian pointed out, looking mildly indifferent,

Nodding, Dick eyed his adoptive younger brother for a long moment, “And what about you, Damian?”

Damian looked up, his arms folded over his chest and a scowl on his face. For a moment, he did nothing more than stare at Dick before his features softened ever so slightly and he frowned, “It isn’t something that I ever wish to see again.”

Knowing that was all Damian was willing to give them, at least for tonight, Dick exhaled and nodded once, signalling that he didn’t expect more. 

He glanced towards his girlfriend whose concern was almost tangible, just from the way her face was contorted. She chewed on her lip for a long time before she sighed and her shoulders fell, 

“We will revisit this tomorrow. I do not want anyone to feel like this was something small. If anything, I wish the league had given us more of a warning of what we were going into.” Kory commenting, briefly locking her gaze with Dick’s who looked equally as unhappy that they had been left out of the loop,

“Yeah, I think I’ll be giving Bruce a call tomorrow.” He paused and addressed the younger Titans once more, “And… Kory and I will be arranging some therapy sessions with a league member to deal with the things you saw.”

“I don’t think we need-” 

Dick cut Damian off with a raised hand, “We’re not going to force you guys into them but they will be made available to you all, should you need to talk to someone.”

Damian pressed his lips into a thin line and gave Dick one sharp nod. 

“Do you guys mind if we… go to bed now? I kinda just wanna sleep it off…” Gar muttered, tapping his fingertips together,

Kory smiled and nodded, “Of course, Gar. Dick and I are going to make sure the Tower is all locked up before we go home but we will be back in the morning…” She paused and let her eyes wander across them, “And I believe morning training can be cancelled tomorrow.”

Gar suddenly perked up at that news, “Yes! I get to sleep in!” 

She giggled whilst Dick smirked and rolled his eyes, “But… remember, if one of you needs us… just call us. Okay?”

They all nodded their heads in confirmation before they began trudging off towards their rooms, muttering their farewells and goodnights before they left.

Once the main room had practically emptied of Titans, only Damian remained and as he passed by the couple, he stopped and looked up at his brother,

“Apologies for… using the Lazarus Pit on you, Grayson.” He stated, something in his face telling Dick that he had hoped for a better outcome of his decision made within the simulation.

His older brother gave him a brief smile and gripped one of his shoulders with his hand, “It’s alright, Damian. Let’s just hope it never has to come to it where you have to make that kind of choice for real.” 

Damian considered that and wished them goodnight before he left for his room as well. 

Dick watched him go but his attention was drawn back to the woman standing beside him as she sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

“How’re you feeling, Kor?” He checked, lacing his fingers with hers,

She turned and smiled at him, exhaustion slipping into the creases of her face, “Tired… and wanting to go to bed.” 

He matched her smile and lifted her hand to his mouth, dropping a kiss to the back of it, “Don’t have to tell me twice. Let’s go home.”

_______________

Dick took a deep breath as he observed himself in the bathroom mirror, his hair still damp and water dribbling down his face after hopping out of the shower. He was trying his best to remain unaffected by the scenes that had plagued him in the simulation earlier that day but it was proving to be a challenge to just push all of it to the back of his mind. 

He couldn’t pinpoint what was the worst part; knowing the world had gone up in flames, knowing his friends and family had mostly perished or been altered into husks of their true selves at the hands of Darkseid or knowing that he had potentially faced a lifetime of insanity due to a botched resurrection, unable to remember himself or those he loved.

It may not have been real but it was difficult, trying to remind himself of that. It was hard to accept that truth when it had felt so very real. Images continued to flash in his mind; memories of what had occurred in that world they had had to endure. 

He gritted his teeth and tried to quell the anger bubbling in his chest at the comprehension that Bruce, as well as Diana and Clark, hadn’t felt it necessary to even run their little project by him or Kory first; instead throwing them in blind, along with the younger members of the team. 

The rational part of his mind told him it was so they would become immersed within the situation handed to them so that they could act upon instinct whereas knowing ahead, would have compromised how they acted within the simulation.

Still, it was something he would be bringing up to Bruce in the morning. 

Taking another deep inhale through his nose, Dick focused on his reflection again, repeating words over and over in his head as a reminder that it wasn’t real. It felt real, but it wasn’t and he had to hold onto that, whatever it took.

He shook his head and reached for the hairdryer, flicking the switch and allowing the hot air from it to fill the bathroom.

As he wandered down the hallway, from the bedroom he shared with Kory, he couldn’t help but wonder where she had disappeared to. Their apartment was only so big, meaning if she wasn’t in their room already then she had to be out in the main room.

“Kory?” He called as he stepped over the threshold between the corridor and the main living area. 

Dick reached over and flicked one of the light switches, allowing the glow of the bulbs to illuminate the room; a much more welcomed atmosphere than being swallowed up by the night time darkness.

He blinked in surprise to see her standing by the far wall where the floor to ceiling window overlooked the bustling street below the building. It was still painted with bright lights and the buzz of people hanging out with friends, despite it being well past midnight.

She turned to him, as if not having heard him the first time around.

“Babe, what’re you doing all in the dark?” Dick asked, walking around the side of the couch, towards her. 

Kory shook her head, as if lost in a world of her own but he knew her better than that. He knew what was haunting her mind since it was the only thing that could be the culprit. 

“Hey… c’mere…” He murmured, offering her a hand to take.

She stepped closer and accepted, tangling her fingers with his until Dick gently pulled her down onto the sofa with him. He tugged her closer, using his free arm to wrap around her shoulders.

“I am sorry… I just…” She whispered, her usually bouncy personality seemingly absent for the time being,

“It’s okay… it scared me too.” He admitted,

Finally, she lifted her chin, her solid green gaze fixed on his cerulean orbs. She gave into a trembling breath before she spoke, “I have seen many merciless things, Dick. Growing up on a hostile planet such as my own, it was not uncommon to see bloodshed but… this… it was different.” 

He nodded as he listened to her, gently stroking her upper arm as she talked.

“Having to watch those I love being slaughtered… to then die myself and be brought back as a… mindless slave to such a dictator…” She shook her head minutely, unsure what to make of it,

“I know it was only a simulation to test out the league’s contingency plan for if Darkseid does become a more imminent threat but… it feels as real as anything we’ve faced before.” Dick told her,

She felt tears prick her eyes for a brief moment as she thought back on the end of their virtual reality and she snuggled closer to him, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath her slender fingers. 

“The worst part was that I no longer had you.” She confessed quietly.

He inclined his head to look at her and furrowed his brows, “You… sorta still had me.”

She pulled a face at him and glanced down to where her hand rested on his chest, “But I didn’t. It wasn’t you, anymore. Living on as… what that thing turned me into and having a shell of who you are… it is not a life I would ever wish upon myself. It would have been a fate worse than death.”

Dick swallowed the lump in his throat and pressed his cheek to hers, trying to remind her that he was here with her and they were together.

“Apparently not even being insane can take me away from you.” He mentioned, attempting to inject some kind of humor into the situation, if just to uplift the mood in some way.

She blinked at him before she laughed, just a small sound under her breath but he was happy with it nonetheless. 

“You know… I wouldn’t want it either, Kory.” He paused, “In the training… after the pit… I was watching myself and living it… I couldn’t remember anything. I didn’t recognize any of my friends or family… and I don’t ever want that to happen. I never want to be brought back.”

Kory opened her mouth, as if going to question it but he cut her off,

“Ever. Even if… I die before you and you’re stricken with uncontrollable grief… please don’t ever let it happen.”

She gazed at him for a long time but soon nodded her head, vowing not to bring him back, no matter what.

After a long stretch of comfortable silence, Dick sighed and kissed her temple, murmuring, “I have a feeling sleep isn’t coming easily to either of us tonight… why don’t we watch a movie and I’ll make some popcorn?”

Kory smiled softly and nodded, brushing her fingers across his cheek, “That sounds like a good idea.”

“Glad you approve.” He grinned, gently using his free hand to cup her jaw and lead her into a kiss. 

It started as something slow and easy, acting as a reaffirmation of being safe and sound with one another. But, Kory tilted her head, pressing her lips to his more firmly, enjoying the warmth that sparked wherever they met. 

Dick slid his hand along her jawline, his fingers becoming knotted in her gorgeous red tresses. He ran his tongue along her lower lip, nipping and suckling the skin there.

Kory made a muffled sound and lifted both hands to place against either side of her love’s face. 

When she pulled away, she smiled gently and brushed her nose against his until he rested his forehead against hers.

“I know we’ve had a hell of a day… with the training and everything but… it wasn’t real. I’m still here and so are you. We’ve got each other and I don’t plan on giving you up anytime soon, Kory.” Dick whispered, stroking his thumb against her skin.

“I know… I love you.” She breathed, nuzzling his cheek with her own,

“Love you too, babe.” He flashed her one of his boyish grins and tilted his head, “Gotta make every day count together.”

Kory nodded and smiled back at him, “Together.”

[hearthandhomemagick]

Cottage Witch Journal Entry

I have a longing for Tennessee. 

I have a pure, unadulterated and wild attraction to the Tennessee Mountains. This is a dream I’ve had, and a yearning I’ve felt, for years. A need to be hidden deep in the mountains in a tiny cottage/cabin of sorts. I’m sure this is an affinity very popular in mainstream culture today, and all I can think of when I hear people say they want a cottage or cabin in the mountains is, “How the Hell does everyone expect to FIT on these mountains?!” But, this is my Shadow Self, the over realistic and overthinking side of myself. And I easily get discouraged from my own wants thinking of others wants. 

This is a side of me to notice in myself. I need to be able to move past thoughts of, “If everyone wants it, I’ll never have it.” and move forward with thoughts of, “This is something I want for myself, and I deserve to work hard for it.” And that’s a goal I have with myself. 

You see, this post isn’t just about my want to be in Tennessee in the woods, it’s much deeper than that I feel. It’s about improvement and wanting to grow. 

I bring up Tennessee because that is not a goal I can easily obtain within a couple of weeks or even a month. But, it is something I want to build up to obtaining. Something I want to do right so that everything is exactly as it needs to be. And I can’t fully accomplish this until I accomplish other goals that take precedent first. For Example, my physical health.

As a witch, I truly believe in loving every part of yourself, the good and the bad. The exciting and the terrifying. The understood and the neglected. Part of this acceptance process is learning what is and is not acceptable for my body. Now, I have struggled with my weight and how I see myself since I was a child. I remember a little boy seeing my tummy in a bathing suit in 1st grade and him telling me I was fat and that his dad said fat girls were ugly. Comments like this, stares and whispers were constant when in regards to my weight. It felt like an overwhelming amount of attention was directed at the way I looked, even if no one was looking at me I felt as though everyone was thinking about it. Over the years, this mental state took a tole on a lot more than I expected, even affecting me today with my Significant Other. The consistent attention to my own weight pulled me into depression, our of depression, into anxiety and out of anxiety. What I mean is I had an up and down relationship with my tummy. 

I felt abandoned most days. I would get this idea that I was too much and not enough all at once. A gentle and cooing tone from my toxic thoughts led to a lot of issues and concerns for me and my health. Some days, I would read something that made me feel as though I was a Queen. A bad bitch lurking in this cruel world and taking it by the throat to stare it in the eyes and say, “I love my body fat.” 

The sad part is your heart, mind and body know when you are lying to it. I didn’t love my body. Not in those confident moments and not in those depressed moments. I was locked away in a cage in my mind that gave me two illusions to choose from, while hiding my third option under the rug. I neglected my feelings because I didn’t want to experience them. I neglected my health because I didn’t want to deal with it. And I neglected my body because I hated it. 

Reality here is that this is the only fucking body I have. Do you understand that? Let me repeat this so maybe you can understand how harsh of a reality this was to me. 

I am on this Earth for goodness knows how long. 50 years, 20 years, 72 days. I don’t know, and no one does. I was literally forced into owning this body, whether I like it or not, it is mine. I can move houses, I can get a new car, I can get a new job. I cannot get a new body. 

I heard this in High School and started what I called my weight loss journey. I lost maybe 20 pounds while attending a workout-boot camp of sorts and trying to maintain a healthy diet. That sentence resonated so much with me that I repeated it every day to myself. My motivation was on point. Then, I stopped going. There are multiple reasons why I stopped, but none of them are rightful excuses.

I just stopped. 

Now, during those days I had lost weight, I was starting to gain confidence in myself and was attempting to genuinely look out for my health. I had more energy and felt amazing! But like I said, I had stopped for terrible reasons. 

Fast-forward to college and you will find a very anxiety filled, sleep deprived and mentally exhausted Carly. Some nights I wouldn’t sleep but for 4-5 hours. Other nights I didn’t sleep at all. I believe my stay up streak was 3, going on 4 nights. All due to homework. My coping technique has always been eating food, too. So when you have a sleep deprived student settled next to a 24/7 pizza joint with half baked cookies, you gain 30-40 pounds. 

At 245 Pounds, I was at my heaviest. This weight gain came on as my roommates were saying I was fat, stupid and were making me question myself frequently. Self hate festers among others who don’t value your worth, remember that. So, through those years of college I weighed an uncomfortable amount of weight that made my body start shutting down physically. 

Mental Health had a lot to do with my physical health, here as well. When I was in a really bad place, I would stop moving completely and just sit still. If I had a terrible feeling, I’d cook something to make myself feel better or would just grab a processed, quick snack. It was a pattern of mine. I’d get just enough motivation to do one or two things, and then I’d stop all together and feel as though that was enough for a few weeks. 

Eventually, when I was done with college, I started back on that rollercoaster of healthy and unhealthy. I’d lose 5 pounds, then gain 7 pounds right back. I started detail critiquing myself and stressing myself out. My weight never could get under control, and I couldn’t break the 200 mark to save my life. I would see pictures and videos of myself and feel as though I had eaten an entire buffet. Not too long after getting with my S/O and starting my job as a Sexual Violence Outreach Advocate, I got sick.

It started as a birthday dinner at a Korean Barbecue in 2019. I was with my two best friends at the time and having a blast. We all ate the same food, but when I woke up the following morning I was throwing up everything in my tummy. 

The throwing up went on for 4 days before I was taken to the hospital, only for them to release me saying it was virus. My personal doctor couldn’t figure out what was wrong and it eventually became an everyday thing. I would wake up between 3-6 in the morning, go to the bathroom and be sick for hours before pulling myself together to make it to work. 

Weeks turned into months, and months turned into a year. 

I lost 50 pounds from this thing that no doctor could seem to figure out. I got x-rays and everything, but nothing and no one could tell me exactly what was going on with me. I couldn’t eat anything friend, only raw fruits and veggies, or broth. I only drank water and ginger based drinks, and could not for the life of me stop what was going on with my body. Many doctors tried to pass it as a virus, stomach ulcers, GURD, or even Heart Burn (?). None of them were right. 

After a long time, my mom finally confessed that every woman in our family has Endometriosis. If you don’t know what this is, it is the build up of scar tissue on the outside of your uterus. This leads to nausea, ovarian cysts (which they found on me in x-rays) and sub or infertility. No doctor can diagnose it, either, unless you have a surgery to see if there is scarring. So for many, suffering on your own is easier than seeing a doctor. 

I discussed this with my doctor, and it was as if a light flashed in her brain. This is a disease she cannot say I have, but can say it sounds very much like that. It is hereditary and once you have it, you have it for good.

After this information entered my line of though, I decided the stress from my job was too much for too little pay, and chose to leave. Leading up to my leaving the job, I was sick almost every second of every day. The moment I left, I felt better.

I still feel pain in my ovary area, but because I don’t have the money to see a doctor, and can control my pains with eating habits and physical influence, I choose to work through it alone. 

I said ALL THAT BACKGROUND BULLSHIT JUST TO SAY THIS!!!!!

This is the part that marks my new journey. It is the Journey to Strength and Well Being. The Journey to Feeling Good. The Journey the Choosing my happiness over anything else. And the Journey to choosing the health of my body over my insecurities.

I wrote this because a couple of days ago I had a very graphic and vivid dream about my boyfriend falling in love with the woman I wanted to be. In other words, I seen him with a woman who literally presented all of my insecurities to me. Small, lithe and dainty, gentle and calming, and everything I wasn’t. She was beautiful. And he seen this, and did things for her that he never did for me. I woke up almost in tears, because my emotions were raw, but I had no idea that my insecurities were still very deeply rooted. 

I pondered over the last few days of this dream. What it could mean, what I should do, how I should feel and I have finally come to a conclusion.

This dream is a depiction of my fears. My brain was saying, “You need to address this shit right now.” and did it in the most face slap kind of way I could think. 

I still, even after learning to love myself genuinely, have image issues that need to be nurtured and tended to before I can move forward in my life.

So, I’m making 1-3 goals every month that are attainable and reachable. This will be a brick road to my obtaining that cottage/cabin in the Tennessee Mountains. 

This months Goals start today! 

GOAL 1 -  Learn to do a split, find a healthy yoga sequence, be able to do 15 pushups, & 30 Squats by the end of December. 

GOAL 2 - Make a conscious effort to what you eat/making a new dish once a week to try.

GOAL 3 - Save $100.

This is a process, and I am only human. I don’t want to fall back into the habits of toxic mentality. I don’t want to neglect myself or how I feel and I don’t want to lose myself in to the world in the process of searching for freedom from myself. 

I expect myself to exude self control, self love, and empowerment. I expect to expect better from and for myself, and I expect to accomplish my goals.

I manifest it here, I can do a split. I have a healthy maintainable yoga sequence that I have committed to growing expanding and changing. I can do 15 push ups and 30 squats. I have 100 dollars saved up already and make concious decisions that better my health rather than hurt it. This is part of my lifstyle now! 

And it is for the better!

Thank you to anyone who read this through. These entries are more for my benefit and thought process, but appreciate anyone who recognizes it or even relates and wants to talk about it. It’s personal to me and means a lot. I intend on being on here more often to update my challenges and express how I use my witchcraft in the process of this Journey.

I love you all! Stay safe, warm and full to the brim! Later Witches! xx

[have-each-others-six]

time will tell, she’ll see us through (part five)

***

part one

part two

part three

part four

*** a cliffhanger? who is she?

enjoy!

***

Cathy knocks on Katherine’s bedroom door probably harder than she should, feeling like she’s in the thick of a howling storm of thoughts.

“Katherine?” she asks, her voice feeling choked- no ‘Kit’, not now- and the door slowly opens. “Hi, Cathy…” the girl replies, standing in the doorway, looking concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Cathy squeezes her hands into fists, trying to release some of the tension in her posture before she speaks. “No. No, everything is not okay, Katherine, and I think you know why.” “Is your manuscript still missing?” Katherine asks, sort of casually but not quite, and Cathy can hear Jane’s sort-of gasp as she realizes why Cathy was acting so strangely earlier and what Katherine may have done. “Yes, it is,” Cathy says in a quick, clipped voice, and Katherine looks wary at her tone. “Have you stolen it?”

“She would never-” Jane starts, defending her girl, but Cathy holds out her hand to quiet her argument, seeing the skittishness in Katherine’s eyes, and evidently Jane sees it too. “You… you wouldn’t, right, love?” “I didn’t take it,” Katherine mumbles, but she is a horrible liar, and Cathy’s jaw tenses. 

“Where have you hidden it?” she questions her again, voice low.

“I didn’t-” “I asked, where have you hidden it?!” Cathy near-shouts, cutting off whatever protest Katherine was going to give, and the raised volume of her voice ignites something in the pink-haired girl. “I ripped it up!” Katherine yells. “I destroyed it and hid the pieces where you’ll never find them!” She expects Cathy to shriek back, to continue the screaming match they’ve got going, but the woman’s voice is so soft when she speaks again that Katherine has to strain to hear it.

“You destroyed it?” “You heard me,” Katherine snaps, trying to maintain her anger. “It’s gone. All torn up in little bits, and I’ve hid them away. You won’t find it again.” “But why?” Aragon asks, aghast, because Cathy looks like she can’t hold herself up from shock, let alone speak. “Why would you ever do something like this?” Katherine opens her mouth, but Cathy speaks before she has the chance to, her grief shifting into something sharper and harder, tearing apart any sympathy she might have.“She’s still angry about what happened with Henry,” Cathy says bitterly, answering Aragon’s question. “Even after all this time, she’s angry that I replaced her in Henry’s life.” “That’s not what- no!” Katherine protests, her tone becoming filled with desperation rather than the vitriol of only a few minutes ago. “No, Cathy, I promise, that’s not-” “I thought we moved past that!” Cathy exclaims, her voice cracking, and Katherine can see tears in her eyes. “I thought all of us had! I thought that we were more than just Henry’s wives, I thought that we had forgiven each other because we understood that we were more than our relationship with him- Christ, that was what my whole book was about! Is that why you destroyed it? Because you couldn’t stand the idea of us moving beyond him, couldn’t stand forgiving me?” Katherine is trembling, and if this were a normal circumstance Cathy would understand that this is too much for her and step back, letting her find a safe mental space like she would do in Katherine’s interview before they continued the discussion.  But this is not a discussion, this is no normal circumstance, and Cathy is beyond calming- her chest feels like it’s filled with fire. She feels like all of her pressure and fear and anger is detonating within her, not just from the all-consuming anxiety of today but from the years she spent in court, the grief of losing her daughter, the trauma of her relationship with Thomas- Katherine destroyed her manuscript, she destroyed a part of Cathy’s history, and because of that all of the emotions of her past are crashing to the forefront. She doesn’t think she could calm down if she wanted to. “When I met Henry, he called you an uncaring witch,” Cathy says lowly. “He said that you destroyed lives and only thought of your own needs, ‘like her cousin before her.’” She looks at the ground before meeting Katherine’s tear-filled eyes. Her own eyes are burning- she can’t tell if she’s crying or not. “I always thought he was wrong, and when I met you after our reincarnation, I was sure of it. You were intelligent and sweet and loving and I dismissed Henry’s contempt for you. I wanted to honor the you that I had come to know when I wrote my story. I wanted to prove Henry and all of those men at court wrong, even if it was posthumously.”  When she speaks again, she doesn’t look away. She holds Katherine’s gaze, unable to process the girl’s trembling because of the feeling of loss pressing on her chest. “I tried my very best to prove him wrong. It looks like you proved him right.” It’s silent then, but the kind of silence that is so heavy that it’s hard to breathe. No one talks. Cathy turns around because she can’t look at Katherine anymore and sees Jane’s face, pale and shocked, and then Aragon, who’s watching her with trepidation, like she’s scared of what her goddaughter’ll do next. The harshness of what she had said begins to sink in as the haze of angry grief begins to lift, and Cathy begins to turn to face Katherine, opening her mouth to apologize, but the crying girl pushes past her and runs to the front door. Cathy just swallows hard and stands there for a moment, dread building up in her chest as she realizes the full weight of her words and what they had meant to Katherine. “I… I couldn’t…” she starts, but she doesn’t know how to defend herself, doesn’t know how to articulate the roaring in her head that made her say those things to the wife that had preceded her in Henry’s quest for a woman. “Henry drives us apart yet again,” she mutters, gritting her teeth, but Aragon surprises her by shaking her head. “This wasn’t Henry, darling,” her godmother says softly. “At least, not all of that was him.” Aragon’s eyes are soft, but her words send pain shooting through Cathy’s chest because she knows the woman is right. The difficulties in her relationship with Henry have left scars that were definitely showing rather obviously in that fight, but she can’t blame all of what she said on him. That was her who registered Katherine’s vulnerability and continued anyway, that was her who let her rage take control, that was her who targeted the girl’s insecurities with a white-hot vengeance and wanted it to hurt. She’s still angry, but now her anger is coupled with shame, and she feels like the ground beneath her is pitching and reeling like the waves at sea- but there’s no railing to grab onto, there’s no horizon to focus on- she’s here, with the aftermath of her choices, and there is nowhere to go but forward. So that’s where she goes. Without a word, she slips between Jane and Catherine, goes down the stairs, and runs out the front door into the night, having just enough time to process that Katherine didn’t take her phone. She doesn’t know where Katherine would have gone, because the sun is brushing the edge of the horizon and while the fifth queen has learned to enjoy going out at night in the twenty-first century, she never goes alone, so there are no real places that she likes to go by herself that Cathy knows about. The only lead Cathy really has is that Katherine didn’t take the car, so Cathy doesn’t either, walking down the sidewalk briskly and wishing she had brought a coat as the chill begins to settle around her. She’s moved through so many different emotions in the past hour that she feels dizzy, spiraling and stumbling her way from one feeling to the next, but her need to find Katherine overrides that dizziness and settles in her bones with a cold efficiency. As she walks quickly, she thinks about what she had written in that last page of the story she’d read aloud to Aragon. Placing us in a miniscule box of marriage and labeling us with words from a rhyme does not allow us our humanity- to have feeling, to have depth, to be complex and mutlilayered like every person on this earth deserves to be. She’d written that with the intent of expressing that she and the others didn’t just want to be known as Henry the Eighth’s wives, but as she scans the sidewalk and shop windows for a familiar head of pink hair, a different perspective comes into her mind. Cathy has been saying over and over again that the manuscript is everything to her. She has put so much into this, enough so that the loss of the book is synonymous with the loss of her memory in her mind. She’s been defining herself by this manuscript, putting herself in a box of her own by placing the pressure of telling every part of this story perfectly on her shoulders. She has denied herself the very depth and complexity and multilayered nature of life that she had written that everyone deserved. She doesn’t want the manuscript to be all she has. Katherine hurt Cathy, that’s true- she destroyed something very close to her heart- but Cathy still loves her, just like she loves all of the other queens. The manuscript had been straining that love, more than she thinks she had realized. All of this time, she’s been thinking that if she doesn’t preserve the memories she has of the other queens or her siblings or her daughter or Henry’s children or any of the other people she wanted to honor, the bonds she has with them will be tarnished, but maybe the obsession she had with making the story perfect was actually the thing that was separating her from her memories in the first place, removing them as something she experienced and shoving her back in as an author, a detached observer. The wind picks up, but Cathy no longer feels the chill, the shock of the revelation making her feel like she’s been underwater and someone’s just yanked her head up to the surface. She wasn’t doing the honorable thing by losing herself in her manuscript. In fact, she was so consumed with not forgetting and making every detail correct that she was doing a worse job at actually telling the story, at staying true to the emotions and the messages that she had wanted to get across when she had started all of this. Of course she still wants history to be represented truthfully, she’s still going to make sure people are not reduced to two-dimensional versions of themselves- she still believes history should chronicle humanity, not gods and demons, and she’ll fight for that until she dies (dies again, she supposes). But she’s done wasting her second chance at life living through her first one all over again. “Katherine!” she calls out, her voice a little strangled with emotion, and she stops walking and starts running, looking all around for the youngest queen. “Katherine, where are you?” As the sun sinks lower in the sky and the world seems to dim, the streets lit by the sparse halos of streetlamps, Cathy becomes more and more desperate.

She makes it to the edge of the city park, one of the more likely places for Katherine to be, and Cathy looks around worriedly for her and earns herself more than a few strange glances. It’s fully dark now, and Cathy’s near tears when she sits dejectedly on the edge of the fancy fountain that resides in the middle of the park. She looks out at the painful excuses for trees that dot the landscape of the grass, feeling hopeless, and drags her foot against the gravel that marks the path. She doesn’t know what to do.

***

taglist: @thenicestnonbinary, @soultastic

[thescatterbrainedwriter]

Crossed Wires pt.2

Flash Fanfic

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Warnings: None

Word Count: ~2,000

Pairings: Oc x Canon

***Note: Emily is my own creation, I just like sticking her in random places***

——

They popped back up in the living room of Nash’s place, Harry holding onto Emily for a moment when they touched ground again not really wanting to let her go. “You good?” she asked making sure his footing was stable. “Yup, I’m good,” Harry assured. “You sure?” She asked with a smirk lifting their still joined hands. “Mhmm,” he repeated still holding on. Her heart skipped when he smirked making her tense for a second. “Ok, good,” she said letting his hand go and moving to take her shoes off. “So, I’m assuming you may be hungry? Want anything?” She asked making her way to the kitchen. “No, I’m ok for now,” he dismissed shaking his head. After taking off his shoes and jacket he followed her to the kitchen. Her heart rate picked up as he got closer and she bit her lip trying to keep herself together. “Theeeeen what.... did you waaaaanna do?” Harry shrugged. “I dunno,” he stated casually somewhat amused at her discomfort. It was his turn to make her blush and he was going to have fun with it.

“Ok, well, I’m gonna go.... make a snack. Or something. Should probably calibrate and affix your neural scanner first though.”

“Oh right, yeah. Should probably... do that....” he said pulling out the device and handing it to her. He followed her into the kitchen and took a seat, Emily standing in front of him given he was so tall even on a chair. As she concentrated making sure everything was in order, Harry studied her with a smile that slowly got wider the longer she took. He saw her brows furrow, her eyes fixate on her task, pupils dilate, mouth pouted and even her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth a little. “Hmmkay... that should do it,” she said completing affixing the small device to his forehead. Smiling satisfied she caught him looking at her with soft eyes. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” She asked.

“Just... watching you concentrate,” Harry said with a shrug. “You know, you stick your tongue out and your pupils dilate when you zone out?” He smiled leaning forward and pointing at her. Emily smiled embarrassedly putting her hand in his face to push him away. “Pfffff— stop... staring at meeee,” she whines with a giggle. “Das rude!”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” Harry teased grabbing her hand and removing it from impeding his vision. Emily squinted before licking her other palm and planting it square in the middle of his face prompting him to release her hand in order to wipe the saliva off. She took the opportunity to retreat away all the while giggling at his sounds of disgust. “Uuuugh, why!” He complained.

“I need my hand to make snacks, how else was I supposed to get you to let go?”

“You could have asked!”

“Were you really gonna let it go?”

Harry paused. “.....yes, I would have.”

“You hesitated!” Emily accused pointing at him from across the table squinting suspiciously.

“I would have! ...... Eventually.....” Harry admitted sheepishly. “Mhmm, yeah sure,” she said with a smirk. “Anyway, I’m gonna go change into comfy pj’s and then make a snack. Technically this is your place too so go get comfortable or something. I’ll be back.” She poked her head back out of the door she had just disappeared into after a brief pause. “Don’t worry, I’ll wear pants this time,” she assured and grinned. Harry grinned with a nervous chuckle still sitting at the table and she disappeared again. He sat steeping in uncertainty, his ears beginning to burn as he debated telling her what was on his mind the entire time she was gone today. When she wandered back into the kitchen muttering her nightly to-do list he decided to blurt it out. As she said, how often would he get this opportunity again?

“Hey Emily,” he said quickly standing nearly tipping over the chair. Emily’s head snapped over to him in surprise having been jolted from her thoughts by both his voice and the noise of the chair. “Ack! Oh, you ok?”

“Yeah, ah, I’m fine,” he dismissed righting the chair and breezing over to her. “I.... have spent a lot of time thinking. Today. W-while you were.... out....”

“Ok?” she said raising an eyebrow curiously and leaned against the table. “Whaaaaat was it you thought about and conclusion did you come to? If you came to one.” Harry paused before averting his gaze and scratched his face. “Well.... as you can imagine,” he started. “Things were, well quite a lot for me to take in. Today.”

“Mhmm, though you handled it rather well from what I understand.”

“Yeah, well, I guess..... I guess a few... wires, may have been crossed. So to say.”

“I would say so, yeah,” Emily affirmed.

“No, you don’t understand, it’s more than just me being front and center. I’m talking about......” he paused, his breath seeming to catch and he felt really rather warm now. “Harry?” Emily said concerned.

“Emily I.... I think.... I think I’ve been, feeling things.” Harry stuttered trying to explain himself. “And I spent a lot, and I mean a lot, of time thinking it over because I wanted to make sure it was not just carry over from Nash or....” he looked up at her making eye contact, eyes both apprehensive and anxious. “Or me....” Emily’s heart stopped and her cheeks became rosy. “Whaaaat do you mean?” she asked trying to keep her voice level.

“Well, I— as I’ve said— I was doing quite a lot of thinking today, and going over past memories and doing a bit of.... self reflection I.... I guess. And I came to the conclusion that..... that......” Emily’s eyes grew wide in anticipation and she barely breathed waiting for him to speak. Harry relaxed his shoulders and his face softened. “I love you.” Her breath caught and all she could do was stare at him. “I know, I know,” Harry said after the awkward silence, “this is a really bad time to be bringing that up but, I just..... I was afraid and then Earth 2 was destroyed by the Anti-Monitor and..... and I really regret not telling you sooner.”

A tiny smile cracked Emily’s face and she looked down at the floor scratching her head. “And here I was thinking I scared you off....” she muttered. “Wait, you....?” Harry asked. “Yeaahhh,” she said smiling at him shyly. “But, I mean, you took your wife’s death hard and I thought at some points in time I was over stepping soooo...... I did my best to quash them. The feelings, I mean.” Harry smiled and sighed. “Mixed signals, god I hate those...”

“Eh well, I was.... admittedly, a little scared too,” Emily explained. “Being ripped away at any point and all that doesn’t exactly make for eager relationship mentality.”

“You know people go through a similar fear, called death, right?” Harry asked.

“Yeah.... I know. I’ve been told the before believe it or not,” Emily followed, “But by that logic, I’ve been through that pain, and inflicted that same pain, half a dozen times at the least. Does that indicate someone who would want to make another connection only to hurt someone like that?”

“No, not really,” Harry admitted. “So then.... why Nash?” Emily pursed her lips and shifted very wide eyes to the sides. “I..... guess I have a type? I’m sure Sherloque could relate,” she smiled a cheesy smile. “Besides, in case you didn’t notice, he had to do an awful lot of convincing.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed. “Didn’t hesitate like I did either.”

“No, no he was.... quite persistent. Took him a while to pluck up the courage though.” Emily smiled and Harry mirrored it. “Soooo, then I have a..... question. For you,” he said slowly walking over like he was embarrassed or too shy. “Can I kiss you?” He asked after a hesitated pause. Emily tensed at the question and chewed on her top lip trying to keep goosebumps from erupting all over. “Why don’t you, try and find out?” She asked smirking a little with hints of deviousness. Harry’s heart stopped, he half expected a yes but didn’t think it would come in the form of a challenge. Tentatively he leaned forward after shaking off his surprise and met her lips with his. They stayed like that for a moment letting the kiss linger between them as they absorbed the tingling feeling that came with it. “So that’s what I missed, hmm?” he commented after they parted. “You’re not half bad yourself,” Emily observed with a smile. Harry chuckled. “If Jessie saw me now. By the way, have you seen her? How is she?”

Emily’s smile dropped a bit. “I.... I uh....”

Harry’s entire face dropped noticing her change in body langue. “Jessie.....”

“I haven’t seen her since, uh, since the universes merged,” Emily admitted causing Harry to turn away, she thought he would pass out with how pale he became. “But! Buuuuut, that doesn’t meeeean she doesn’t exist anymore,” she said rubbing his shoulder, he leaned over the table and stared at the surface with a blank expression. “Cisco traveled around to study and catalog all the changes that have showed up including new metas. And we haven’t seen Wallie around in a while, it’s possible they’ve come across her.”

“Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right,” he muttered.

“Why don’t you, uhm, make a list of things you’d.... like me to ask her. When I do find her, hmm?” she asked trying to distract him.

“Yeah.... yeah I’ll.... I think I’ll do that.” Harry nodded. He slowly shuffled his way into the bedroom and sat on the bed. *Yet another thing to absorb,* he thought to himself.

“I’ll be out here if you need me. For anything,” Emily assured with a gentle smile. Harry nodded and she closed the door to give him quiet. *I think now would be an opportune time for brownies,* she thought to herself. *Not that there’s ever a wrong time for them.* She smiled to herself and headed off to raid the cupboards for ingredients.

——

Harry wasn’t sure how long he sat in the quiet room, but he knew it was an hour at the very least by the ringing now very pronounced in his ears. He had compiled a short list of things he wanted to know about Jessie, short for him anyway, mainly pertaining to how she was doing to making sure she was taking care of herself and he wished to tell her he loved her. He also wrote down a few things he wanted Emily to do for him occasionally in regard to keeping an eye on her. Rubbing his face with a hand he sighed deeply, too much thinking and digestion of information for one day had made him very tired and for once he really wanted to not think about anything. He decided to exit the room and find Emily to see what she had found to make for a snack, and what she considered a snack.

Peeking out of the door he first found a smell of chocolate wafting through the air, then heard humming coming from Emily and similar buzzing from a drone or two. Coming closer to the kitchen, he heard bare feet tapping on the floor and laughter every now and then. He stood in the doorway and leaned against the frame watching with a smile, and after a short while Emily happened to turn enough to catch him watching. “What are you doing waaay over there?” She asked with a giggle.

“Oh, you know. Watching,” he replied.

“Being a creeper, eh?” She smiled making her way over to him. “Creeper? What?” He responded in mock insult. She smiled a little wider. “Creeeeeep-errrrrr,” she said and poked his nose leaving a substance on it. Recoiling at the unknown, Harry touched it to find it was brown and smooth in texture. “Fudge?” He asked confused.

Emily grinned again making her way back over to the counter. “Fudge brownies! My favorite, and guaranteed to cheer anyone up,” she said gesturing dramatically to the still hot bake pan. Harry followed and inspected her handiwork. “Is it all done?” He asked. Emily nodded. “Yup, should be cooled enough t— hey wait, what are you doing?” she asked suddenly noticing Harry move to put his entire open hand right on top of the fudge icing she had finished spreading moments ago. Before she could stop him he firmly planted it in the middle of the pan thoroughly coating it. “Ahh! No, my brownies!!” She near screeched. “Why did y—“ her sentence was cut off by the sudden chocolatey hand plopped into the middle of her face. She froze in disbelief leaving Harry to just smile smugly. “For calling me a butthead earlier,” he explained noting her questioning look. “And the saliva handprint.” Emily’s shoulders dropped. “Fair,” she relented. “But did you really have to ruin such beautiful brownies?”

“I really had to ruin your beautiful brownies,” he confirmed. “But are they really ruined? I think they look better.”

“You know, this isn’t what is meant when the request for a hand is given,” Emily replied washing her face. “So I’ll not ask you for a hand in anything any time soon because of this.” She sighed when she turned and saw him proceed to lick all the icing off his hand. “You want a towel or something instead?”

Harry shook his head. “And waste all this fudge? Never,” he smirked. “Want some?” he asked holding his hand to her face. Emily gave him an unimpressed look fueling his smugness before gripping his wrist and licking from the base of his palm up to the end of his middle finger. Harry swore his heart stopped, he did not anticipate a reaction like that in the least. “Mmm, yum. I love fudge, so much. Good call,” she said with a wink. Harry just stared at her as she casually started cleaning her baking mess like nothing happened. “You’re dangerous,” he commented finding his voice again. “I dunno what you’re talking about,” she replied feigning innocence. He squinted at her with a pause before washing his hand, no way was he risking something like that again. *She seemed too confident doing that,* he thought. *I’ll bet Nash instigates that behavior a lot.*

“So, did you manage to make a list?” Emily asked after a brief silence. Harry paused letting the water run down his hands. “Yeah, I did.”

“Good,” Emily replied finishing wiping down the counter. Smiling she turned around. “Now, eat a feel good brownie, properly this time, and then we can go to bed. No more thinking today, sound good?” Harry nodded with a relieved smile. “Yes, very.” Emily stayed in the kitchen while Harry left to change, brownie in hand, and wandered around closing up for the night. When she made her way to the bedroom, she found him staring off into space sitting on one side of the bed. “Hey,” she said breaking his concentration. “I thought I said no more thinking?”

“Ah, right. Sorry, couldn’t help it I guess,” he said with a chuckle before settling into bed. Emily gave a sympathetic look and made her way to the other side. “Alright, tell me what’s on your mind,” she said sliding under the covers and settling in herself. He looked over making eye contact and his face softened almost immediately at her quiet concerned but attentive look. “Too much,” he says with a sigh. “But, I think mostly, I’m scared.”

“Why are you scared?” She asked scooting a bit closer to him. He sighed again turning on his side to face her. “I’m.... I’m afraid of being lost. I’m afraid to go to sleep because I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to manifest again. That never crossed my mind before today.” Emily sighed softly and gently place a hand on his cheek. “The stubborn and persistent Harry? You’re too assertive to ever disappear.” He chuckled sadly continuing to look at her, his mind calmed and he remembered how he felt the day his mind began to slip and she was there to assure him. “I’ll keep you safe,” she assured softly. “I know,” Harry replied.

“Hey, c’mere,” Emily said after a brief thoughtful pause and stretched out her arms. Harry looked at her quizzically but did as she asked. “What are....?”

“Nash sometimes has nightmares,” Emily explained pulling him close. “This never fails to keep him calm and get him back to sleep.” She wrapped her arms around him gently cradling his head close to her chest and rested her head on top his. Harry stiffened at the close proximity but soon relaxed feeling safe and wrapped his arms around her in return. It didn’t take long for him to drift off to sleep to the sound of her level heartbeat and Emily soon followed.

———

[adangerousbond]

If lighthouses could speak

Quick oneshot sometime post 7x10, and pre finale, it is a little darker than normal, not quite as full blown angst as I had first planned, but that would have been probably triple the word count and didn't have the time for that.

Definitely not what will happen in the show, not with only 3 ep's left! But was just annoying my brain until I wrote it out.

Read below, at ff.net or AO3

The fight to get Jemma back had been tough and gruelling, but ultimately successful, if success was measured simply on the fact that her, Deke, and the Zephyr all returned alive and in one piece. But Nathaniel still managed to get away, weaker and with minimal supporters, but alive, they were still stuck in the 80's and everyone was quite worse for wear.

The parting words of Enoch were starting to appear more and more likely, with the team barely hanging on, barely a team, and Coulson was fairly certain that they would all need a long break at the end of this; if they survived the end that was. The team, still a family when it counted, had gone off to their separate corners of the light house, had gone off on their separate ways to cope and prepare in their own ways for the end of the mission; however it panned out.

Simmons hadn't spoken much about what they had done to her while they kept her hostage, just that they had been after Fitz and had not been able to remove the memory device before the rescue, but even without remembering, what Daisy had told her about when she did remember had thrown her. Daisy and Coulson were the only two that remembered those screams, and they were just another something that kept them up at night, the unknown, the fear and the worry for their teammate haunting them.

Even if she didn't know anything further regarding Fitz or her missing time, Simmons was shaken from her ordeal, the longer she went without Fitz, answers, and now Enoch, the more her optimism was fading. Deke was keeping close to his Nana, watching out for her, trying to help, and trying to give her hope, where hope was desperately needed.

The two of them spent most of the time going over anything and everything on the base and on the Zephyr, in an attempt to get or send a message to Fitz, to find something that might help or just keep themselves busy enough to not have the chance to think about what the truth could be. Running off caffeine and energy bars, they would work for days straight until finally crashing, or until one of the others stepped in to force them to rest, more oftenly being May.

With Deke not leaving Jemma's side, Yo-Yo had taken over the supply runs, her powers allowing her to get in and out of the nearby town easier than anyone else and she was glad for the breath of fresh air, the chance to have a moment away from the doom and gloom type feeling that was settling across the underground base. She knew the team needed a moment, needed a bit of time to get back up and finish the fight, and made an effort on every trip to find something new or exciting to take back to them to share a little bit of happiness amongst them.

Mack and Coulson were spending any spare moment pouring over any documents, history texts and shared knowledge, trying to come up with a plan, a way to save the timeline, and finish the mission. They had turned one of the walls into what looked more like an elaborate conspiracy theory, not a S.H.I.E.L.D. assignment, and the two were also working as the central command for any information Deke and Simmons came up with in their lab, or anything Daisy had hacked for them. Yo-Yo constantly stopped in with food, making sure they took some level of care for themselves, as she helped collect them whatever files or books they didn't have.

Between training with anyone that wanted to, and going over every last bit of the Zephyr, May was bouncing back the quickest, something that surprised no one, but with her new found gift, she was struggling with the first row seat to how the team was handling it. Initially, this had her hiding in the plane under the guise of making sure it was as it had been before Nathaniel took it, but as time went on, she used it to her advantage for the teams well being; taking the extra time to make sure Daisy got some fresh air, Mack had someone to vent about how Coulson annoyed him that day, and to just check in with Simmons.

After everything that had happened, and only just coming away from Simmons' rescue mission in one piece, Daisy had gone quieter and more determined than ever, but she was still drained. She had gone from tougher mission, to tougher and now to the toughest she had had to face, and that was saying something. The others noticed but were all on similar wavelengths and for the most part, left her to herself as she readied herself for the fight.

She had taken to sparring with either May or Yo-Yo any chance she got, leaving the lighthouse with May for their daily runs whenever they got the all-clear, or just trying to stick to the other agents insane treadmill settings, and it almost felt as if she was getting simultaneously fitter and tireder as the days drew on. But she knew that for them to have any shot at succeeding at this mission, one that they had no choice but to win, then she would have to be stronger and more ready than ever.

Making sure to stay clear of anywhere near the room they were holding her sister in, while they were still undecided of her loyalties and what exactly to do with her. Daisy tried to keep herself from dwelling on the topic right now, and keep herself from the discussions involving her, she just wasn't ready to reach out to yet another member of her family who could very well let her down once more, and she wasn't ready to face the half sister who had gotten the relationship with her mother that she done anything for; but instead, Kora had thrown away so quickly to side with the same person who had tortured Daisy and killed their mother.

A part of her routine involved slipping into Sousa's bunk every night, the first time he had hesitated, as she thought he would, not wanting to take advantage of her – ever the gentleman, but he, along with the rest of the team, quickly got used to that being her bunk too, not that anyone ever questioned it. That was something she was glad of, she wasn't sure she had any answers and if she thought to much on the subject right now, she wasn't sure she could handle that.

There were times that she felt that she was the one taking advantage of him, of his kindness to her and his desire to look after her, and sometimes in the middle of the night, instead of sleep, she would be kept awake with concern that she might just push him too far away before she has a chance to decide if she could risk going all in, and she wasn't sure which scared her more. Likewise, she knew she would either be surprised or not surprised if at the end of all this, he was still there by her side; both options, although opposites, seemed like they could be the outcome.

But, for the moment, he was letting it slide and she was grateful, knowing that if he pushed to talk about what they were, or to take some space to decide, that she wouldn't be able to either, and probably just end up ruining something that could see was potentially good for her. So, instead she tried to let him be there for her, like he had told her he wanted to be in the loop, accepting his help, accepting his comfort, and trying to show him that she was thankful, that she just wasn't able to focus on much more than the mission until it was over; until they had won.

If there was one thing Sousa was sure of, it was that this team he had found himself in, had not had a second to breath in a long time. He had complained about being pulled from his time, but the rest of the team had been too, and by the sounds of it, they had been pulled right at the end of a hard mission; that was right after another hard mission and it just seemed to repeat back like that, and yet, they still seemed to be regrouping; slower, but steadily.

Early on, he had felt himself pulled more toward the one team member in particular, and as time moved forward, that pull strengthened. Sure, the team was a good one to be a part of, and he was always ready to help them, but he only felt that he fitted in, that he wanted to actually keep jumping through time, because he felt like he had found his place alongside Daisy, and the more time he spent with them all, the more he realised just how much that was something she needed.

He knew that she was struggling with it all, and a part of him was worried that she would burn out, or that it would all get too much, and she would push him away completely, because she didn't see herself, her own well being as higher than the mission. So he did what he could to show her she was worth it, to show her that he wouldn't leave her, and for the most part it seemed to be working, she seemed to be letting him be there and really that was all that he could ask of her right now.

He always made sure to find her throughout the day with an energy bar or a piece of fruit, just something simple and easy that she might actually eat and would leave a selection of snacks on her bedside table in their bunk. He made extra sure to not spook her, or judge her when she would show up every night, not pushing the subject and definitely not turning her away, letting her have her unimportant small talk or listening when she did broach something more serious, or just giving her days of silence.

Choosing instead to focus on the wins, the positive, like the way she accepted the food with a small smile, or the nights that she would curl up next to him, without initiating anything further, or the times in more public spaces, where she would lean into his brief touches, or the biggest win of all; that she continued to come back to him, to seek him out. Because as snappy as she could get, as cold as she could seem to him occasionally, she was still there, still by his side, still trying to know him, she was just also trying to mend and win a war at the same time.

The rest of the team never questioned him on it either, they all seemed to know about them and either were too caught up in their own things to say anything or didn't want to risk ruining it, but they knew. Yo-Yo always left anything she had gotten in town for Daisy in his bunk, May would tell him any changes to pass on to her training schedule with her, and Mack would sometimes give him tech stuff to give her, Simmons did once touch on the subject, in her own distracted way, but only to tell him she was glad he was there for her.

Coulson raised the topic with him once, and he thought he was about to cop an earful about taking advantage and that it wasn't proper, but instead the man that was like a father to her, thanked him for being her person, for not shying away from her. That it was something she needed, whether she would admit it or not, and that it made him happy someone was in her corner more than the missions, and that she was sometimes sidelined on that front in the team because of the strong front she puts on and the others having their own issues.

She had offhandedly made a comment once, a throwback to something that had happened in one of her loops that he didn't remember, about knowing that it all fazed him too, and that she might not be ready to talk, but she could listen, should he need it. And it in that moment, that he knew that the girl he had been following through time, he would follow anywhere she let him.