#╰ (✪∀<) ~ *:･ﾟ✧ So that you’ll suffer forever in the afterlife and the next. ◜★◞ ANON.

[theircurse]

╰ ☆ ✧ — Anonymous asked: Yumeno~ which side of your hair is dyed a different colour? Do you have white hair or dark hair naturally?

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted. ) ☆ :-

˗ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤIt's NATURAL ! I don't think the Mafia would give me hair dye even if I asked for it !ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤBut I'm kinda glad because if I had ALL WHITE hair, I'd look too much like that weird tiger which is gross ! And if I had ALL DARK hair, I'd look too much like Dazai - san which is even more GROSS !ㅤ❜

[theircurse-archive4]

╰ ☆ ✧ — Anonymous asked: uwo

╰ ☆ ✧ — Anonymous asked: ⬤w⬤

╰ ☆ ✧ — Anonymous asked: UWO

╰ ☆ ✧ — Anonymous asked: ( ʘ ྌ ʘ )

╰ ☆ ✧ — Anonymous asked: ( ⍟ ྌ ⦿ )

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted ) ☆ :-

[theircurse-archive3]

✧ * º • –– Anonymous asked: Your interpretation is so f*cking good omg. I come to your blog whenever I either want cuteness overload or to have my heart ripped out and stomped on.

↳ -: ✧ ( Unprompted ! ) ✧ :-

YELLS ANON I APPRECIATE THAT SO MUCH ! I've put so much work into Yumeno these past few years and it's so wonderful to know that people appreciate my interpretation ! I'm so glad I'm serving and either giving you cuteness overload or giving you soul crushing agony and pain. Thank you so much, anon ! I hope you have a lovely night because you're amazing ♡

[cillspropertea]

Flipped

Chapter 6: Sybill

The reader is Aberama Gold’s eldest daughter, Esmeralda Gold in this fic.

Warnings: alcohol, hallucinations, mentions of pain and suffering

This fic might have dark themes which may irritate or offend some readers. But if you've seen Peaky Blinders and are familiar with Thomas Shelby, you'll be okay.   The story, plot, character histories and back stories might not be relevant to the original "Peaky Blinders" . Warnings will change per chapter. This is my first fic. Hope you all like it. English is not my first language.

 Do not hesitate to comment, reblog and engage. It works as fuel for my writing. 😉💙💙

Synopsis: Your father’s one mistake shall alter your life’s direction forever.

  Word count: 2210 words

Thomas Shelby

    Thomas was sitting outside, on the stairs of the hospital, smoking a cigarette with shaky hands. Not thinking or contemplating anything. For the first time after so long, his mind was blank. Esmeralda’s face was the only picture stuck before his eyes. He couldn’t stop comparing her face from when he’d first seen her, that night, on the bed. And then today as she’d taken her last breath in front of him. Some of her blood was still on his hands. ‘And it always will be’ Just like so many lives he’d destroyed, so much innocent blood he’d shed, her blood shall remain on his hands too. Abruptly he got up and went to his car. After stealing one last look at the hospital, he started it and drove off.

----

    It had been a month now, since that day at the hospital. A month, since he’d rode off on a carriage with booze, opium and his gun. A month since he’d seen anyone’s face but his own in the forever unsettling waters of the lake, near which he’d decided to camp. He didn’t really understand what he was doing there or why he had come there in the first place. He just wanted to stay there without doing anything. He wanted to forget the names of his foes, the trouble he was in, everything. There had been times in those thirty one days when he’d gotten pretty close to putting that loaded gun into his mouth and pulling the trigger. Pretty close to him granting Grace’s wish for him to join her in the afterlife. She never came to him when he wanted her to, but always at the nights where he wanted to forget her. Sometimes giving him words of love and affection, caresses and promises of a ‘forever’ they could get, only if he pulled the trigger. And then there were nights where she would blame him, curse him and call him his murderer.

    He was lying on the grass, near a small fire after having his dinner of a small fish he’d managed to catch from the lake, just before the sunset. A bottle of whiskey in hand, as he stared up at the stars. Grace lightly stroked his hair with one hand as she looked at him, her head propped on the other, laying right next to him. “I like you here…” she said, “All to myself, no distractions, no torments… Just you and me…” Tommy smiled and closed his eyes feeling her fingers run through his hair, just like old times. He was high and drunk.

    Both of which were helping him sleep at night and get up in the morning. Whenever he tried to sleep without the liquor, Esmeralda’s blood drenched form came to his mind. “Say you’ll never leave… swear it…” Grace’s words made him sigh. He opened his mouth to say something but suddenly felt movement behind the carriage. He shot up on instinct and reached for his loaded gun nearby. Pointing it towards where the sound was coming from, he slowly made his way to it. ‘Could it be the Changrettas… or Father Hugh’s men perhaps…’  Sitting he observed through the bushes, there were two men on a carriage, the soft light from his fire had helped him see that much. He knew he’d been spotted thanks to his fire as they were coming towards him. Gradually shifting, he crawled and hid behind his carriage and waited for the men. He would attack them the moment they stepped near the carriage. Just when one of them came close, he grabbed him and put his gun on the side of his temple, holding him close. “Ahhh… sorry Tommy it’s me, it’s me and Johnny Doggs!” Curly screamed. Sure enough, Johnny Doggs came from behind the bushes with his hands held high in the air. “For fucks sake!” Tommy shook his head and released Curly who was breathing heavily. “Sorry Tommy, we didn’t mean to scare ya!” Johnny said. “Why are you here?” Tommy questioned. “Polly sent us, to look for you…” Johnny looked down “… there has been an attack Tom” Tommy’s eyes went wide, “Who?” Johnny hesitated, “Who Johnny?” Tommy asked again, louder this time.“… the Changrettas shot … Arthur!” Tommy’s mouth opened but he could not say anything. “He’s okay though. The bullet passed the heart by a mere inch Tom! It is a bloody miracle that he’s still alive!” Tommy felt relief as he breathed loudly. “Fucking hell Johnny! Couldn’t you have said the last part first eh?” He went near the fire to light up a cigarette. “Polly said to tell you to … Ahem” Tommy raised his right brow at a stuttering Johnny. “She um asked us to quote that…” Curly cut him off, “She said ‘Tell Tommy to get his cowardly ass down there to clean up the mess we are in… then he can go on his stupid sulking trip all he wants… yeah! That’s what she said Tom… That’s what she said!” Curly laughed. Thomas scoffed and looked down. “Where is Arthur now?” he asked. “He’s still healing Tom, but because of the vendetta, they’ve all shifted to Arrow house…” Johnny said. “hmm…”  Tommy nodded. “Most of the equipment was already there at the house so it wasn’t really that difficult you know…” Tommy looked up, “What do you mean?” Curly sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, “Because of the girl Tommy, Aberama’s daughter!?” Tommy stared dumbstruck, inhaling a sharp breath.

 Arrow house

    When Aunt Polly saw Tommy’s carriage pull up she ran outside to see him. “Where the fuck were you? Do you have any idea what we went through when you were gone sulking like a baby, huh? They shot Arthur Tommy! And some unknown men tried to kidnap Ada…”

    “Good to see you too Pol. I see you’ve missed me and were worried for my well-being too.” Tommy grumbled. “Of course I was, why do you think I sent people to look for you?” Polly raised her eyebrows. He looked into her eyes, “The fact that you sent Johnny and Curly says so much about you being worried for me that it fucking hurts!” he smirked making his Aunt roll her eyes. “Take me to Arthur, I need to see him”

     When he was just about to enter Linda hurriedly stood before the door and blocked it. “Who the fuck do you think you are eh?” She said, anger making her body shiver. “And what do you think he is? Some danm slave whom you can just use when you feel like? Or a danm shield to protect yourself from the world whenever you’ve fucked it up enough that it reacts back?” Linda seethed. “Hello Linda, it’s nice to see you too…” Tommy loosed a breath, rolling his eyes acting as if Linda’s words were just falling on deaf ears. But in truth they hurt, they always hurt because he always listened. He knew he’d fucked up and that abandoning his family like that, in the middle of a vendetta was danm selfish of him. But at that time, he just couldn’t think about doing anything else. He had to get away, had to run. Away from the pain, away from everyone who expected him to have a magic wand and fix everything in a flash. Yup, he had been a coward.

    “He is a father now!” Linda screamed at his face, cradling her swollen belly protectively and continued, “He can’t be a part of this anymore. We cannot be a part of this anymore!” she finished, tears flowing down her face. “Are you done?” Tommy cocked his head. “Can I see my brother now?” Linda clutched her fists hard, and groaned angrily, trying not to physically attack her stubborn, ass-hole of a brother-in-law. Polly stepped in between them and opened the door to let Tommy pass.

   Arthur laid on his bed with a bandage around his chest, looking weak and frail. “Hello brotha!” He yelled, trying to get up and winced with pain. Tommy put his hand on his chest making him stop and lie down again. “I’m good Tommy. Those bastards aint got shit on me!” Tommy nodded, “I know brother, I know, I’m just glad that you’re okay.” And he genuinely was. His family was everything to him. Yes, he did use them and their strengths as it suited him, that was his selfish and opportunist side, he was well aware of. But regardless of that he did love them and cared for their well-being. Plus his trauma from the war had broken him so much that he’d forgotten how to express that love to them too.

    Both brothers chatted a bit and then Tommy asked Frances to tell everyone about a family meeting in half an hour in Arthur’s room. After she left Tom got up and asked Polly about Charlie. “He’s with Esmeralda.” Her name made Tommy’s heart skip a beat and swell at the same time. The girl did not mean anything to him. Not yet anyway, but the way her death had affected him, he wasn’t quite that sure anymore.

     Polly explained to him how after the Doctors took her in, they revived her heart and how blood loss was the cause of her stopped breathing. “It was bad Thomas. The first week, they had to keep her asleep to let her body heal. There was too much internal bleeding. The doctors weren’t that hopeful either. But then she woke up, delirious she was. She didn’t know any of us. But when I told her about who I was she calmed down a bit.” Tommy gulped and tried to cover it by clearing his throat loudly, “So… how is she now?” Polly looked down standing against the wall, resting her head to it, “Okay I guess, doesn’t talk to anyone, doesn’t acknowledge either of our presence here. Conversations between me and her are very limited too. Except Charlie though, and Charlie is crazy about her too…” Polly smiled. “One day we just couldn’t find Charles anywhere. Every one of us was looking for him. Even the children. We thought maybe someone…” she shook her head, “But then Frances found him in Esmeralda’s room. He was sleeping in her arms, without Grace’s blanket, can you believe?” Charlie had been inseparable from that blanket ever since his mother had died. Everyone thought maybe it was because he could still smell his mother’s scent on it. Sleeping without it was impossible for him. “Her bruises have been healing nicely. The medication is helping. The doctors have given her some pain killers and suggested opium too, because they said the pain would get worse, but she doesn’t take them. She cries in agony but doesn’t take the danm medicines.” Polly frowns absently, “It’s as if she’s punishing herself for something. The pain and suffering she has endured at the hands of her loved ones…” a tear dropped from her eye which she quickly wiped away, “She’ll never be the same again.”    

-----

Esmeralda Gold

    You were playing with Charlie on the bed when Polly entered your room after a light knock on the door. “Good morning Esmeralda. May I come in?” You nodded, assuming she was here to take Charlie with her but frowned when she sat on the bed next to him instead. “I’m here to take Charlie dear. I see you haven’t taken your pain medicines again…” You frowned, “There’s no need.” It was a lie and Polly knew. In truth you were constantly in pain. Either from your bruises or your head. But the idea of taking something for it just didn’t settle well for you. There was this bundle of emotions inside of you. You didn’t know what it was though, regret, disappointment, hurt… But you felt it every time you took a breath. The way your father had put all the blame on you, the way everyone had turned against you, had shaken you to the core. ‘Is that how little I meant to him? How unimportant I was to him, that he didn’t even think for a single moment about me? My feelings?  My existence?’ You had been alone all of your life, you’d released it now.

    Every relationship, every connection you had ever had with anyone was always for their benefit. When Ma had died you’d had to take over for her, being the eldest in the family. Your life revolved around cooking, household chores and taking care of your younger siblings as best as you could. Da never loved you, he changed his attitude with you because he needed you after Ma’s death, to hold the reigns of the house. There was never love, you had mistook it as love because the truth was you’d never known what it felt like. Your mother did love you, you were sure about it, until you had had that conversation with Polly after coming to Arrow house. She’d given you the answer of why Malaiah was so against you. Your Ma wasn’t your birth mother at all in fact you were born to a woman called Sybill, who was from the Lee family.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS BLOODY BOUQUET Vol.11 Mukami Azusa [Track 4]

Original title: 幸せの定義

Source: DIABOLIK LOVERS BLOODY BOUQUET Vol.11 Mukami Azusa [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Kishio Daisuke

Translator’s note: FEELS FEELS FEELS. I had to pause the translation midway through because Azusa’s distressed crying voice kept on making me tear up as well. I’m so proud of him for actually realizing that he was doing the wrong thing and that choosing death together would not make them happy. ;w; Huge props to the VA as well because he voiced Azusa perfectly in this track. There’s so much raw emotion in his voice I just can’tーAll of you Azusa stans better grab your box of Kleenex before attempting to listen to this one. 

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 4: The Meaning of Happiness

*Rustle rustle*

“Zzー...Zz...Nnh...Nn...”

*Rustle*

“Nn...Where...am I...?”

Azusa slowly gets up.

“Right...I lost consciousness...while sucking her blood...Eve...? ...Where are you...?”

He looks around as you place your hand on his.

“Ah...This hand...I see...You stayed by my side...this whole time, didn’t you...? I’m sorry...My vision’s a little blurry for a reason...so I can’t see your face...very well...”

You voice your concern.

“Don’t worry...As long as I can feel your touch...I don’t mind if I can’t see...”

You tell him that he should stop this. 

“Nnh...Why...? I’ll break the curse! For sure! I mean...If I don’t...I just don’t know...How I should go on...?”

*Rustle*

Haah, haah...Come on...Can you see this? My wounds. They’ve increased by so much...You don’t want me to hurt myself any more, do you...? In that case, don’t say such things...!”

You tell him he shouldn’t regardless.

“Why...? Do you hate me now...?”

You shake your head.

“Then why...!? I’m begging you...Let me suck your blood. Don’t fight it...”

You admit that you’d rather die yourself than seeing Azusa suffer.

“...’Die’...? Are you serious? But then we’ll truly become separated. Are you okay with that?”

You nod.

“...Okay. In that case...I’ll choose to come with you.”

Your eyes widen in shock.

“Let’s die together, Eve. Let’s become happy together...in the afterlife. After all, I can’t possibly survive...without you. In that case, we can just put an end to it together. We can once again find happiness, in whatever place lies ahead once you’ve been freed from the curse. I don’t mind, wherever that may be.”

You tell him he’ll have to leave many things behind.

“It’s fine. After all...I no longer need anyone but you after all.”

*Rustle*

“Please still be mine...even if I can no longer lie next to you like this...I’ll be only yours forever as well...”

You nod.

“...Say, Eve? There’s one last place I want to visit. If we’re putting an end to everything, it has to be there. ...You’ll come with me, right?”

You agree.

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle rustle*

“Nnh...Nn...Haah, haah...Haah~ Thank you...for taking me all the way here...I thought that...if possible...I’d like to take my final breath...under the blue skies, with you by my side...”

The wind blows in the background.

“Ah...Haah...The wind feels nice, don’t you think...? I’m sure the sky is a beautiful blue hue right now as well...”

*Rustle*

“It feels like it’s been so long since we came here together...Back then, I never fathomed...any of this would happen so...I was really happy...you made a flower crown for me. ...Come to think of it, enjoying your homemade packed lunch...we’ve held a picnic here before as well, haven’t we...? Every single memory I have of us together is a good one...so at some point, I started taking that lifestyle for granted...But that ends today...Haah...Uu...”

*Cling*

“If we stab each other...with this knife...We can be freed from everything...The two of us will bid farewell to this world here...”

He guides your hand.

“My heart...is right here...Remember it well, okay? You can’t...get it wrong...You should stab me through the heart first...Vampires don’t die so easily...So I’ll use the extra time to pull the knife back out...and...pierce your...heart...Uu...Okay...? I wonder if we’ll be able to become happy this way...? Will we be able to stay together in death...? Like now, forever...”

You tell him you’re not sure.

“Right...It’s obvious you don’t know what happens after death...But if we believe, I’m sure...we’ll find happiness together, right? Right?”

He drops the knife.

*Cling*

“Kuhーー! ...No...This is wrong...It’s not right...Finding happiness in death is nothing but a wish...I’ve been harboring the wrong idea this whole time...I thought all I wanted was to be together with you, no matter what shape or form...I thought this was happiness to me...but that was a mistake...There’s no way...we can be happy when we’re no longer alive...

Right now...I can’t see you nor the blue skies...but still...Even so...I can feel you at least...I can tell you’re here by my side...My beloved, precious person...is right here...”

He embraces you.

*Rustle*

“Say, Eve...? I’ll become stronger...Strong enough to protect you, to make you happy...So let’s live together after all...I don’t want to give up until the bitter end. I’ll keep struggling, standing strong...and I’m sure one day, I’ll find a way to break the curse. I want to live alongside you like that...I want to find true happiness...”

You return the hug.

*Rustle*

“Haah...Thank you...What gives me a reason to exist...and brings me happiness...is living together with you. So even if something happens...I won’t give up. I’ll vow that I’ll never run away.”

*Rustle*

“Let’s be together, always. I’ll love only you, forever. Mmh...”

*Smooch*

*Ping*

“...!! Ah...”

*WOOSH*

“...? Did something just...? Ah! ...Huh? I can...see your face. ...Oh. Is this a dream...? I can see you clearly...Also, my body feels lighter as well...”

He grabs your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Eve. Let me have just a little of your blood, okay?”

Azusa bites you.

“Mmh...Nn...”

*Gulp*

“...Oh...You’re right! It no longer hurts! Also...It’s back to its usual delicious taste. ...I’m so glad...This means we can keep on living together forever, right?”

You tear up, nodding.

“I must have put you through a lot of distress, right...? I’m sorry, Eve...”

 You note how he’s crying.

“...Eh? You’re right...The tears must have started flowing at some point...I just felt so happy the moment I could see you again, so...Hic...I couldn’t help myself…Come on, let’s smile! We were able to overcome the curse after all!”

You smile.

*Rustle rustle*

“Nn...It tickles, Eve. ...What’s wrong? You seem a little different from usual?”

You explain.

“I see. ...I’m glad we can be together as well. ...I love you.”

*Rustle*

“I don’t know why that bouquet of black roses was delivered to us...but we managed to lift the curse. If you’re safe, that’s all what matters.”

He holds you close.

“I’m happy. ...This turned out to be the true happiness I’ve been longing for.”

You agree.

“Fufu~ I’m overjoyed...knowing that we both feel the same way...”

*Rustle*

“Say, Eve...Let’s get married. I need you. So I want you to be my bride.”

You say yes.

“Thank you...I’ll never let you go again...”

*Smooch*

“Never…No matter what happens...From here on out, you’ll officially be mine and mine only. ...Mmh.”

*Smooch*

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[mari-beau]

PARTNERS - A Rogue One Fanfiction

Written for Cassian Appreciation Week 2021 Day 4: Alliance Intelligence

(I know I missed Cassian Appreciation Week entirely with this one, but it got a little more out of hand than the quick scene tags and etc. Actually, tumblr posting etiquette question: At what point is a fanfic considered too long to post directly and should be hosted elsewhere and linked to? Or is inserting a ‘keep reading’ break enough?)

Title: Partners

Characters: Cassian Andor POV; Jyn Erso, Draven

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn

Words: 2633

Setting: Post-Rogue One, Canon-divergent (in that Cassian & Jyn live)

Summary: Cassian receives his first assignment for Alliance Intelligence after recovering from his Scarif injuries, but something is amiss with Jyn Erso. And something is gnawing at him as well...

Spoilers: Rogue One

Warnings: Our heroes have a little bit of PTSD/Separation Anxiety; Also it’s in a layered/nonlinear narrative format, which hopefully is clear/works.

“Where?” she asked. Was there a desperate edge to Jyn’s voice? Or did he just want there to be?

“You know I can’t tell you where.”

Cassian thought she would at least roll her eyes, if not spout sardonic criticism of Alliance Intelligence not even trusting their own people, not trusting those rebels who’d sacrificed everything for the Cause. But she surprisingly remained silent, pursing her lips and giving a little shake of her head.

“Are you allowed to tell me how long you’ll-” She swallowed, uncharacteristically vulnerable. “You’ll be gone?”

“I’m not sure.” Cassian wanted to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but he’d never seen her look so fragile, and he was afraid a single touch might shatter her.

“Okay.” Her response was clipped, even for her, and she just nodded her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’ll be back, Jyn,” he said. And maybe he’d never actually said it outright, but maybe she needed to hear it. “I’ll never leave you behind.”

Again, she only nodded her head, repeating “Okay.”

He gave into the urge, placed a hand on her biceps and stroked her arm through the layers of her thick thermal jumpsuit.

“Are you-” he tried to ask her whether she was feeling okay, but she shrugged his hand off and bolted, leaving him to watch her fleeing back as she disappeared down an icy corridor, blinking in surprise.

…

Earlier…

“Medical informs me you’re cleared for active duty, Captain Andor.” Draven managed to make it both a statement and a question. Of course he was the head of Intelligence, a spy to his very core, working in vagaries. Except when he issued orders. Those were always clear.

“Yes, sir.” Cassian tried to stand at full attention, but the stance honestly put a little too much pressure on his bad leg. If it was just the artificial hip, he’d probably be sprier than he’d been before. But the deep tissue damage was going to take awhile, if he ever did regain the full musculature in his leg, the tendons and ligaments would never be the same. The fractures in his vertebrae and ribs had thankfully knitted back up and neither bothered him too badly. Even with the unrelenting cold of Hoth.

“I have your next assignment.”

Cassian nodded, accepting the datapad with mission specifics. He gave it a cursory glance.

Deep cover.

“Is this a solo mission?” he asked, but pretended to continue to study the information rather than risk revealing his insecurities to his commanding officer. “Or am I going to need a team?”

Maybe just a partner?

“It has to be you,” Draven said. “And only you. They’re your connections. Well, one of your alias’ connections.”

The older man hesitated, not dismissing Cassian, not continuing with the briefing, just standing, waiting. Cassian mustered the best impassive face he could before meeting his commanding officer’s gaze.

“You’re still one of the best agents we have, Andor.”

Cassian nodded his head in silent acceptance of the reassurance.

“When do you need me to leave?” he asked.

“Whenever you’re comfortable enough with the mission brief. But the sooner, the better.” Draven was still studying him intently, with more scrutiny than Cassian had even faced as an undercover spy. “You know where to find me if you have any follow up questions.”

“Yes, sir,” Cassian said, recognizing his dismissal.

Something twisted deep in his chest as he walked away.

He needed to find Jyn and tell her he’d be leaving.

…

That Day on the Beach of Scarif…

“Look.”

It sounded like Jyn’s voice. Was there an afterlife, then? And could Cassian have somehow been lucky enough to be with her there?

No. No, that couldn’t be the case. There was too much pain. If he no longer had a body, then why did it hurt in the way physical flesh only could?

“Cassian!” Jyn’s voice was more urgent and she was squirming in his arms, her hands tugging on the sleeves of his shirt. “What is that?”

He forced his eyes open. It was bright. So bright. Why was she confused? It was Death.

No. No, it wasn’t?

He squinted, blinking his eyes as he looked off toward the ocean, well, where the ocean had been, where the wall of destruction had… stopped?

Jyn looked at him in wide-eyed amazement. “Is that a-”

“Shield,” Cassian gasped, in utter shock himself. “The Empire must have installed an emergency shield to protect the facility.”

“How long?” Jyn was breathing hard, already scrambling to her feet.

“Against that blastwave? Not long,” Cassian said. “Maybe it has dispersed some of the explosive force already but…”

“Come on.” Jyn was standing, leaning down to tug at his arms. He felt like he was ten times the weight he’d ever been on any planet.

“There’s not a lot of time,” he said, hoping she’d understand.

“Which is why you need to move your ass.” Jyn squatted in front of him instead, shoving her arms under his armpits and basically hugging him, she tried hauling him to his feet, but he was dead weight. He hissed with overwhelming pain that was practically blinding, his legs refusing to function. They collapsed back to the sand in a heap.

Jyn got back up, wincing and holding her injured shoulder before she renewed her attempts to get Cassian onto his feet.

It was a herculean effort for his weary body, but he managed to grab her arm.

“Listen to me, Jyn.” She locked eyes with him, and the desperation and pain he found there stabbed him in the chest, hurting worse than his aching ribs. “You have to go. You have to leave me behind. There’s got to be others still alive out there. Find them, get off Scarif. Leave me here. It’s okay. I want you to leave me. Do you understand?”

“No,” she said. There was a ferocious passion in the depths of her eyes, the green gone all steel grey. Any argument he could possibly make, any plea for her to save herself would not be tolerated.

“You listen to me, Cassian Andor.” Her hands captured his face. Her fierceness took away what little breath he had. “We live together. Or we die together.”

This time when she grabbed him, somehow her small body managed to haul him up, maybe she’d somehow given him some of her strength, some of her unrelenting determination, because his legs held... mostly.

…

Present

Cassian found Jyn hiding in a storage room, sitting on a crate with her hands on her knees, doubled over, breathing in big, sobbing gulps of air. He could only stand there and stare in complete shock. Not even on the beach that day had he ever seen Jyn Erso so… such an emotional mess. Angry. Passionate. Vulnerable. Yes. All those things he had seen in her eyes. But this sort of tangible, physical reaction? It was jarring to witness.

And he hesitated. Never hesitate. It could cost lives, the lives of others, your own.

Rushing to her side, he dropped to his knees beside her, the hard ice floor’s impact mitigated by his thick thermal pants.

“Jyn, what is it? What’s wrong? Should I find a medic?”

He placed a hand on her leg, tried to get her to look at him, but she turned away, her breathing still disturbingly uneven, like she wasn’t getting enough oxygen.

“N-no,” she choked out. “Just- Just give me a m-minute.”

“Okay,” he said. “But I’m right here. If you need anything, I’m here.”

A sob escaped her, and then she gasped, continuing to struggle to breath, hyperventilating. Cassian just remained there, kneeling beside her, a previously unfamiliar agony tearing at him, watching Jyn suffer whatever it was she was enduring and unable to help her. But he’d stay there, by her side, forever, if she needed him to.

Her breathing gradually grew placid until she was taking deep, regulated draughts of air. And then those determined breaths evened out as well until she was finally breathing normally. And still he waited.

Jyn swore, wiping at her face before she turned to him, and oh, force, her cheeks were raw-looking with tear tracks staining her skin. There were dark circles under her eyes. She looked exhausted. As if she’d been awake, hunted, for a week. How did that happen in just half an hour or so?

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Cassian asked. He wanted to know, needed to know, so, “Maybe I can help.”

She nodded but her eyes were bright, welling up with tears. This was Jyn Erso. It took a lot to make the woman cry.

“What is responsible for this? Did someone hurt you?” Cassian could hear his own accent thickening but didn’t care, becoming too agitated to focus on proper Basic pronunciations.

Jyn shook her head but said, “No. Yes… I… fuck. This is so embarrassing.”

“What is it, querida?” He took her hand and when she didn’t pull away, squeezed it, caressed her bare palm with his thumb, noting that her skin was getting cold and he should get her back closer to the core of the base where the temperature was more bearable. “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”

She nodded. And again, Cassian was struck by how vulnerable the woman was. She always had a deeply hurt portion of her soul, but she seemed incapable of letting it show, even to him. It wasn’t deluding himself, or an over-exaggeration. Cassian knew that her friendship with him was different than any other she’d had in her life. It was the same for him. They finally had someone they could trust wholeheartedly.

But he still held his breath, waiting for her to bestow that trust once again.

She looked down at her hands in his, then to his face, her weary eyes holding his gaze, searching for something.

“You haven’t realized it, yet, have you?” she asked. Cassian’s heart beat faster. Realized what? “Until your Intelligence briefing this morning, we hadn’t been more than an arm’s length apart since Scarif. And force, I’m having a fucking panic attack just at the thought of being separated from you. How ridiculous is that?”

Cassian’s mouth had gone dry. He swallowed and wet his lips before he could even contemplate speaking.

“It’s not ridiculous, Jyn.” Maybe he hadn’t realized why, but that uneasy feeling had been twisting his insides since he’d first left for his briefing. And now, now he couldn’t deny its cause.

Because Jyn was right. She’d basically dragged him bodily out of that massacre, off that cursed planet, held him as he drifted in and out of consciousness until he’d blacked out entirely, to wake up in the infirmary on Yavin 4 with Jyn sitting at his bedside, arms folded on the edge of his cot, supporting her head as she slept. And from there, she had been with him his entire recovery. She refused to leave the room when medical staff or droids checked on him, only turning her back to give him privacy. He hadn’t complained. He hadn’t objected. Even when she set up a bedroll in the corner of his quarters when he’d been released from the infirmary. Even when she wordlessly climbed into his bed to soothe his fitful, painful sleep, even when she helped him dress. And shower. And limp down the corridors to exercise his injured leg. And after he was basically as recovered as he was going to get, she stayed. Always by his side.

The memory that would always forever be seared into his existence slapped him in the face.

“We live together. Or we die together,” he whispered.

Jyn’s pupils dilated, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on his.

“I meant it,” she said quietly. “But I didn’t think…”

Her hand reflexively clutched at the front of her thermal jumpsuit, seeking the only possession she cared about, the only thing she had left of her mother, her father, the only thing she had that was her own, special. But hadn’t she realized?

She had him.

Cassian took a risk, slid his fingertips over her cheek, which was soft and smooth and warm against his doubtless chilled fingers. But she didn’t flinch from his cool touch. Rather, she leaned into his palm as he cupped her face.

“I know,” he said. And he did know, could see the knowledge of it in her eyes, as well. He didn’t much believe in the Force, and despite the kyber crystal perpetually around Jyn’s neck, she had had a hard life, was a survivor, with a practicality that ran so deep it had taken him, a heartless assassin to make her believe in hope again.

Sometimes, though… Okay, often, he felt like that blastwave had swept them away, disintegrated them on the submolecular level. And then somehow they’d reformed. But their atoms had been mixed up, and he was as much composed of her stardust as his own, and she of his.

It was fanciful. And completely unlike Cassian. The Before Cassian. But now, it was absolutely the way he felt. It was foolish to deny it. And from the way Jyn was looking at him...

He leaned in, his nose brushing hers, his lips feathering over hers as he hesitated, waited for any signal from her, acceptance, invitation, or rejection.

It was an exquisite, agonizing eternity.

But then Jyn sucked in a sharp breath, one of her small yet strong hands grabbing the front of his coat, the other the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. She pulled him into her, her mouth crashing against, hard and hot, and needy. Aggressive and tender at the same time. An inextricable mess. It was how they were. It was who they were.

It was perfect.

…

A little bit later...

“You have concerns regarding the mission, Captain Andor?”

Cassian had managed to catch General Draven in the rare moment where the man was actually in his office, sitting at his desk, reviewing… who knew what… intelligence, battle plans… food reserves…

“I do, sir.”

Draven looked up. Cassian had never questioned an assignment before. He’d always been such a good little soldier-spy. Even though it had been costing him his very soul.

Still, even with the feeling of Jyn’s kisses freshly on his lips, the presence of her burned into his entire being, questioning orders made him nervous. Almost as nervous as allowing himself to have wants, a sense of self beyond what the Alliance had given him.

“Well, what is it, captain?”

“I need a partner.”

Draven frowned in thought. “If I recall… the assignment is best suited for a single operative.”

Cassian swallowed but looked his commanding officer straight in the eye. “Then I won’t be taking this assignment. Or any others for Alliance Intelligence. Not unless I can work with a partner.”

Draven stood, did a quick pace behind his desk before he fixed Cassian with a hard stare. “You would desert the Alliance over Jyn Erso?”

Cassian wet his lips. Revealing such personal, emotional aspects to himself was… entirely against his nature. Jyn did not count. She was simply an extension of himself.

“I would choose her.” Cassian held the man’s war-weary, hardened gaze that still somehow seemed to have an iota of softness about the edges. “I have chosen her.”

We live together. Or we die together.

“She’s my partner.”

Draven sighed, but inclined his head.

“I’ll update the rosters. Make whatever alterations to the mission outline you view fit.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I don’t know if you should be thanking me, Andor,” Draven said, but an elusive smirk flitted across his face.

Cassian did not hide his smile as he left, to find Jyn, and to tell her she was the newest member of the Alliance Intelligence unit.

[imnotasuperhero]

I would lie and say you’re not in my mind.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

Type: Angst.

Summary: Reader finds herself alone, with no explanation as to where Wanda went. And life without her was a true nightmare she could only scape with not-so-nice coping mechanisms.

Wordcount: 2644

Warnings: Drug abuse, one suicidal thought and depression.

A/N: This is my submission for @jbbarnesnnoble writing challenge! I’m so sorry for the delay. Life and work got in the middle, leaving me drained to get some actual writing done. You can search this and other works with the tag #JBBNNMHAMChallenge which deals with different types of mental healt, as to raise awarenes about it.

A/N 2: Since it’s inspired in real events, I decided to twist this and give it a happy ending. People need to know there is hope. No matter how hard life becomes, you’ve got this and you shouldn’t suffer alone. Fight your fear and seek for help. I promise, life is worth living.

A huge than you to @marvelfansince08love for enduring her patience with my rants and mini meltdown about this monster. I could never thank you enough for puting up with my dumb ass, boo. I owe you a lot! <3

If you guys want more, I might have a plot for some kind of spin-off for this story. Just let me know. Also, criticism is welcomed.

"Miss Stark," one of the executives called your attention. "Your nose is bleeding."

Automatically, your fingers found your nose and yup, it was happening. Fucking hell.

Excusing yourself, you left the conference room with rapid steps to the closest bathroom, dismissing whoever you crossed on your way. You weren't new to this, after all.

Once you got the bleeding under control, you inspected yourself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was nothing like your old self. The circles under the eyes needed much more concealing and your smiles were forced. But at least you picked a black blouse today, which it'll do until you got a chance to go back home and change.

"Are you sure you don't want to go home?" Julia asked sheepishly.

"No. I'm capable of handling the rest of the day," you mumbled as you finished the last touches to your make-up.

"Mr. Stark could find-"

"Mr. Stark will find out shit," you cut your assistant. "This is just a sneeze that caused a vein to pop. Understood?" You could see how the woman in front of you shivered slightly and you almost laugh at it. You've become so pity.

"Y-yes, Miss. Is there anything else I can do?"

"No." You inspected yourself in the mirror once again before walking out. "Go over the rest of my day and make sure you send the informs to Stewart."

Fortunately, the day progressed smoothly with very few bumps. And none of them were about you, so you took it as a victory.

Kicking your high heels after closing the door behind you, you started to strip while walking towards the bathroom. The weekend was finally here, which meant you could wind out and enjoy your own company. After the latest events on Beto's, you made sure to lay low for a while. You didn't need another clingy bitch hanging from you all the time. You were just a gal wanting to have some release. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the middle of your calming bath, the sharp razor you kept for emergencies caught your eyes. 'God, it'd be so easy.' You thought to yourself. Just a little line in the right place would do it. The consuming pain would disappear and you'd be free. Hell, maybe you'd find her again in the afterlife.

Before you could continue the line of thoughts, your phone rang with your dad's personalized ringtone. Something you made sure of for when you were doing not-so-nice activities.

"Hey, dad." You absentmindedly sank deeper in the tub. The bubbly water covering up to under your jaw.

"Hi, Peanut." Tony's voice soothed your damaged soul the littlest bit. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"I'm fine," you answered nonchalantly. Lying has become second nature by now. "Living the life. How are you guys?"

"That's what I called you about. Pepper and I want you to come to spend the weekend here. We barely see you outside work so we thought it'd be nice to take advantage of the long weekend. Pleeeeaaase? With a cherry on top?" He finished in a child's voice and you felt your heart squeeze itself.

Truth was, you were tired of lying all the time. You were tired of faking and saying you were okay when you weren't.

"Okay," you sighed. 

"Yay!" Yup, he was a child. "We'll get your room ready. We'll have your favorite."

You didn't know the exact moment you started crying, your dad going a mile a minute talking about his latest invention and how he'd love for you to help him figure out the last touches.

Hanging up, you finally let out the awaiting sobs. Memories of an easier -and happier- time plaguing your mind, making it harder and harder to breathe. Life without her sucked balls.

After drying yourself and throwing on a fresh pair of pajamas, you quickly fixed your bag for the weekend, knowing fully well you'll wake up with just the right spare time before you had to leave for your dad's.

The next morning, you woke up before your alarm went off, which would be fine if it weren't for Wanda appearing in your dreams. Promises of a better life and reaching milestones together, fanning the painful fire in your heart.

Walking to your stash, you retrieved the white powder, forming three consecutive lines on your nightstand. A small straw between your fingers ready to be used. You wouldn't be able to consume when you were at your dad's, so you better took your chance before it was too late. Odin knew you needed the boost.

Stopping at a random café a few blocks from your home, you quickly got yourself a black coffee and a muffin before hitting the pedal once again, changing the playlist to something more upbeat. 

Soon enough, your mind drifted to the impromptu road trips you'd do with Wanda. Sometimes even a week-long trip. Just the two of you apart from the chaos of your lives. 

Out on the road, it was only laughs, music, and fast food with the occasional make-out sessions. God, if you could, you'd live in the past forever. 

Stepping out of your car, you couldn't help the smile that broke your face. Working in the same place as your dad didn't mean you've got to see him every day. And being honest, you were happy he offered you scape from her curse.

"Hi, dad." You answered once you reached him, returning his hug. And boy, didn't you felt safe in those strong arms. They never failed to soothe you.

After what seemed like hours of walking around your dad's property, you and Pepper came back to the house ready for a refreshing iced tea. But any trace of a nice calming bath dissipated away when you say your dad standing in the middle of the living room, his face stoic.

"What's this?" The quietness of his voice freezing your blood.

"I'm waiting, Y/N." 

You cringed at your dad's voice. The disappointment showing in his eyes made you regret not checking before you grabbed a random bag for this trip.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me this is not what I think it is," he begged, showing you and Pepper the almost empty baggy between his fingers. And you ignored him. He already knew the truth, after all. "Say it," he growled.

"So the bleeding nose-"

"Screw you," you muttered, cutting Pepper mid-sentence.

"Hey! That's no way to talk to her,"

"You know what?" You walked to your dad, looking up to his eyes. "Yes, I'm an addict. Good job, Sherlock. Now you can get rid of me as you did with my mom. After all, you never wanted me in the first place, so why should it matter." You snapped with burning tears in your eyes. "There's no need to keep faking it anymore." You walked away, leaving them mouth agape, trying to process your words.

Plopping down on your bed, you couldn't help the feeling of failure igniting inside you. The tears in your eyes burning your eyes as they appeared, flowing down your cheeks as the sadness and emptiness became just too much to handle.

You didn't remember when was the last time you were genuinely happy. And it sucked that it depended on someone. It sucked and you despised it more than anything. But then again, Wanda was everything you'd need to live in this world. Always positive, with a smile so bright that could light up the darkest room. Her eyes? God, you loved losing yourself in those green orbs of hers in the afterglow. And now you had to live without all these little things that made you happy. All the little moments of joy were gone, tuning you into this sack of bones and flesh, with no expectations for life.

It wasn't till much later that night that you left your room, after ignoring your dad's callings.

Padding your way to the bar, you served yourself a whiskey. The burning on your troat a welcomed feeling. Your mind going back to her, as it was the normalcy since she dusted away, leaving you with thousands of questions and a hole in your heart that you knew well you could never fill again. How could you, when you knew she was it? how could you even try to patch it up, when you knew there was no one else like her?

One whiskey turned into 5 and you didn't know when you started to cry, considering you thought there were no tears left after all these years. But the strong hand on your shoulder made you snap from your pity party, hurriedly drying your tears. Crying was for the weak, and boy were you weak.

"I'm sorry," you drowned the last of your drink before looking up, mustering the best stoic face you could.

"You don't need to fake around me, Peanut. We're family," your dad poured you another drink as he got one himself. 

"Look, what happened with your mother has nothing to do with you." He continued once he sat beside you. "And I would never leave you alone, Y/N. No matter how many headaches you give me." He joked but composed himself when you didn't react to it. "I- Pepper is pregnant. And we really want you in the baby's life. But.. Look, if there was a way to bring her back, I would. In a heartbeat. But Y/N, you have to understand, she wouldn't like this version of you. If not for yourself, do it for us,"

You wanted to speak, you wanted to answer him. But the lump in your throat was too big to swallow and the knife in your heart twisted when you saw your dad's eyes tearing up. And fuck did it hurt. To see him cry -for the first time- pained you like hell. And knowing you were the cause of those tears made you feel like you were the worst person alive. 

"I-," you paused to gather your bearings, but your dad beat you to it.

"I know, Peanut," his arms surrounded you in that way that only him could.

"I promise you," he continued once you broke away. "One day, it will get easier. Those feelings will never fully go away, but it will get easier." He dried your tear-stained cheeks softly. "You are not alone. And she'll always be with you,"

 And despite the grief eating you from the inside, you knew you had to live. For them. For her.

The next few months had been a true rollercoaster. You didn't know the abstinence would affect you so badly. And while others would have it much worse, you couldn't help the change of moods and the few tears you caused to those around you. Not to mention, the significant drop in your moods. But you also knew better. You've kept your word, and you hadn't touched it again. 

Under Natasha's supervision, you got rid of every secret stash you had at both, your apartment and your office, and you deleted the number of your dealer. And even if sometimes it seemed like hell would manifest itself as Nat was your watcher, you couldn't be more glad because, admittedly, the woman had balls and she did knew how to bribe you, to the point that you'd even quit drinking even if it was more of a social addiction, in your case. That, mixed with Natasha's friendship and support -as well as those around you- and the birth of Morgan, your little sister had you believing once more, even if you knew you'd never get to be the same person you once were. 

The little bundle of joy had come to this world with a few rays of sunshine for you, finally opening your eyes and making you realize that there was hope. Even if you never saw her again, life was worth living and you'd live it for her at your best capacity. 

So when Pepper asked you to babysit Morgan for a few days, considering she couldn't bring a 2 months old baby with her, you accepted in a heartbeat.

But as you were awoken by a fussing Morgan, after an eventful night in which you barely slept, you realized this might've not been your brightest idea.

Inhaling deeply, you got up and walked to her room, picking her up from her crib and rocking her as you made your way to the kitchen. Babies were a fucking clock. Which only served to add to your decision of never having kids. 

If you were on the verge of tears most of the time, wishing deeply for her parents to come back so you could have time for yourself, you knew you'd be mental if you had to live through this for the rest of your life.

Your ears catching the front door opening made you stop mid singing, turning around as you walked to the hushed words as you feed a calmed down Morgan just to stop dead in your tracks when you saw her. The only reason you stood still, was the baby in your arms. 

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for a sign that this was just a dream. That the image of your girlfriend was just a projection of your mind, like so many other times before during these 5 years since she disappeared from your arms. But the silence surrounding you all and 8 pairs of eyes inspecting you made you realize that this wasn't a dream.

The cries of Morgan took you all from your reverie and soon, Pepper was by your side, taking the baby from your arms before kissing the top of your head, something she always did whenever you felt unsettled.

"Peanut-"

"Is she real?" You questioned as you scrutinized a fidgety Wanda, who stood by the door, ready to run away if needed.

Natasha could sense your turmoil growing with every single second that passed and soon enough you felt a strong pair of arms supporting you, ready to catch you if you fell.

"She's here, Maliska. We brought her back," she spoke quietly, making sure you understood her words.

The wild thoughts on your mind got you walking towards her. The need to touch her and prove yourself that she was back, got your fingers itching. You could feel the blood running in your ears and you shaking steps as you got closer to who you thought was gone forever, leaving you empty and moving through life like a zombie.

The choke that broke through you when your hand cupped her cheek got you smiling as tears rolled down with every erratic thump of your heart.

"You're here," you whispered, afraid of breaking the spell you've found yourself into. 

But you couldn't stay in that thought for long because an intimately familiar pair of arms surrounded you as Wanda threw yourself at you, hiding her face on the crook of your neck.

Feeling her hot breath against your skin was all you needed to finally give in and hold her with all you had, knowing that she was here; with you.

You didn't know how long you both stood there, holding each other and basking in the calmness that surrounded you. All your previous tormenting thoughts dissipated in that exact moment. Wanda was back and you found the hole in your heart start to fill itself.

"Hi, Printsessa," Wanda murmured against your neck, kissing her way up to your jaw, peppering your face with kisses before she finally kissed your lips. And boy, did your knees trembled.

After 5 long years, the lips you've got used to kissing whenever you pleased were once against yours, igniting all the love and hope and good things you got to feel once upon a time.

You can find the continuation, here (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr @wannabe-fic-reader @natasha-danvers @jumbojamba47 @rooskaya-yelena @sananabdliw @aaron-despair @username23345 @nate-the-dreamer @higherfurther-romanova

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

This chapter is a monster so I’m splitting it up into two parts. If y’all wouldn’t mind letting me know if you’re still reading this, I would appreciate it forever.

Small Time Witch (21) part 1

Most of the time when Loki remembered his dreams they were of you or his mother. Sometimes he dreamt of his coronation as king of Asgard with you by his side. The last several nights he would wake up frantic having dreamt of Asgard in ruin. Ragnarok was imminent. He tried several times to reach Thor to no avail. He would go to Asgard in the morning.

You rolled over half asleep reaching out to the warm body that wasn’t there. This is the third time this week Loki had a nightmare. “Lok?”

“In here” he called from the den.

“Another nightmare?” You hugged him from behind. He kissed your hands.

“I don’t think they are nightmares. I think they are warnings. I can’t get in touch with Thor. I’ll have to go to Asgard in the morning.”

“Can I come?”

“I’m afraid not. I don’t know what’s happening and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can help.” You let a little spark jump between your fingers.

“I know you can, Pet. At worst something terrible is happening and I’ll have to help. Which means I will be too distracted worrying about your safety to fight. At best I’m just having nightmares, I’ll see the healers and I’ll be home by the next day. I promise.”

You pouted but didn’t argue. You hated seeing him this worried. You made him a cup of tea and sat with him until he was ready to go back to bed. When you yawned for the third time he tried to get you to go on without him.

“That’s it. Off with you” he said over his book.

“I’m not tired. I want to stay up with you. Hey, Loki, I can put you to sleep like you used to do when I had nightmares.” You slid your hand into the waistband of his pajamas and started stroking his cock. It was only a matter of seconds before it was hard and throbbing in your hand. He always responded so well to your touch.

You didn’t even make it into the bedroom. He bent you over the arm of the sofa and pounded you silly. He made you cum three times before he was able to meet his release. After all that you were a half dead mess. He was still wide awake.

“Shall I carry you, my queen? I’m quite strong you know?” He pulled you from the couch and all but dragged you to bed.

“How are you still so awake?” He shushed you as you climbed under the covers. “Don’t leave me. Get in bed.” You rested your head on his chest and fell asleep before he could turn off the light. Sleep never came for him.

In the morning he made you breakfast and woke you with his tongue diving into your snatch. Your all time favorite wake up. You sat on his lap throughout breakfast. He insisted. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you. Since you returned from Alfheim you hadn’t been apart for more than a few hours. Not knowing when he’s return was making you both a little antsy.

“How will I know you’re there?” you asked impatiently.

“You’ll know. The pull will not be as strong.” His voice was low and somber. You both hated that thought.

“How will I know if you’re hurt or worse?” He grabbed your chin and looked into your eyes.

“If I die, you will too. Remember? The rings keep us bound. They’re still Yggdrasil. My soul is still there.”

“How comforting. What if I take it off to wash my hands and that’s the moment you die. Will I still die?”

He rolled his eyes, “Yes. The moment you return the ring to your finger. You’ll be bound to a dead soul.”

Your stomach was in knots. “Good. Because if you die I’ll find you and drag you out of Hel myself. I’m not feeling good about this, Lok. Let me come with you. Or don’t go. We’ll try Thor again.”

Loki sighed deeply. My my, you were peevish this morning. “Y/N. I have to go. I will be back. I love you more than anything. Much more than Asgard. I promise if anything happens I’ll get out of there and come right home. I promise.” He kissed you deeply. He didn’t want to let go. He looked worried. “I love you, Y/N. Not even death can change that.”

“Please don’t say it like that. I love you too, Lok.” He called for Heimdall and he was off.

You tried to occupy yourself but your mind kept going back to him. After your third cup of tea you decided to go relax in the yard. You grabbed a book and a blanket. You read the same sentence a few times and finally gave up. It was no use. That was it. You had been coupled for so long that you forgot how to be with yourself.

It was really no surprise how broken up you were about Loki being away. You were the same way when you and Andrew broke up. This was different. You and Loki weren’t breaking up. You were blissfully happy. You still had a nagging feeling in your chest that something wasn’t right.

That night you dreamt of a world burning down around you. You tried to get to Loki but you couldn’t in time. Every time you closed your eyes you saw his lifeless face looking back at you purple bruised and bleeding. It made you physically ill.

You did everything in your power to reach Loki. Nothing worked. You searched through his books to try to find a way to access the Bifrost. That was either magic Loki couldn’t do or he didn’t have it in his books. You stumbled across one book titled The Joy of Interstellar Space Travel. When you opened it the pages looked a little off. You place your hand in the center and it went right through the book into a little hole. This must be where Loki kept the tasseract and now it’s gone. Your brain flew into a panic and you started shouting for Heimdall.

You had to stop Loki from doing whatever stupid thing he was about to do. Heimdall never answered. Maybe Strange could get you there. You ran into the kitchen to grab your keys when you heard Loki’s voice.

He looked like he had taken a beating. Exhaustion wracked his body. You tried to touch his face but your hand went right through. He was too weak to make his double corporeal.

“Oh, Loki.”

You could see the tears streaming down his face. “Y/N, I’m not going to make it home. I know I promised and I am so sorry...”

“No” you shook your head furiously, “you promised! Come home. Please!”

He shushed you and cursed himself for not being able to touch you. “I don’t have much time. I need you to warn Wanda and Strange. Tell them Thanos is coming for the stones. You have to hurry. He already has two.”

“What do you mean? If you go I go. I won’t be here to tell them..”

“Yes you will. You have to take off your ring.”

“No! Loki! No! I’m coming with you. I’ll find you in Hel.” You were trembling violently and sobbing. Nothing he could say would calm you.

“You have to. Please. This wouldn’t be happening if I hadn’t taken the tasseract. It’s my fault. Half of our people are gone. I need you to do this.”

“Fuck everyone else. We’re supposed to spend eternity wandering around the afterlife together. We said vows. If you didn’t mean it then....”

He could see logic had escaped you at this point so he got more forceful. “Stop being such a fucking brat and do as I say! Take off the damned ring! NOW. You need to live. You just have to. I’m sorry that this is happening but you shouldn’t be made to suffer because of me.”

He may as well have slapped you. Both of you were prostrate with grief. With every ounce of strength he had he forced his double to solidify so that he may feel you one more time. He placed his hands on the side of your face and made you to see him.

“I love you. Please say you love me. My little queen. Tell me.”

“I love you, Loki. Please don’t leave me. What am I supposed to do without you?”

He took a deep strained breath. Blood was trickling out of his nose and his eyes were rimmed red, “Live.” He snatched the ring off your finger and fizzled out.

You screamed his name like a wild banshee and summoned a wind that knocked everything off the walls. You couldn’t feel your body tumbling to the floor. You couldn’t breathe. You were certain for a split second your heart stopped. The blood rushing through your ears was so loud you couldn’t hear your phone ringing. You held out your hand to bring it over. On the other end was Wanda’s panicked voice.

“Y/N! What happened? Y/N!”

Your voice was very calm and monotone, “Thanos is coming for the stone. You have to get Vision out of there. Loki’s dead. Thanos has the tasseract. I have to call Strange.”

You hung up and dialed Strange’s number. No answer. Your television clicked on. You hadn’t turned it on. The news story flashed on the screen saying that New York was attacked. Thanos was already on his way.

You stayed on the kitchen floor clutching your ring and you cried. There was nothing else you had strength for.

🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆🔆

STEVE

The Quinjet could not carry Steve to New York fast enough. He paced the entire time they were in the air. He kept trying your phone but it was going right to voicemail.

“Pick up, damn it.”

Wanda assured him you were still alive. She couldn’t concentrate long enough to feel you. He called Ororo.

“Captain Rogers. Good to hear from you. What are we looking at?”

“A mad titan coming to earth to collect stones that will help him wipe out half the population.”

“Must be a Tuesday,” she said in jest. “How can we help?”

Steve let out a deep sigh, “We stopped some of his followers in Belfast. I’m sure you saw they captured Tony Stark in New York. Truthfully I have no idea. Ororo, is Y/N alone?”

“She is. She won’t let anyone in the house. Agatha can’t get through the magic she put up. She’s umm...” her voice faltered, “she’s in so much pain. Jean can’t get through to her. Logan has stationed himself outside. When we first got there all we could hear was her screaming. She won’t let us help her.”

“Ok. We’ll be in New York in a few hours. Let me know if anything changes.” He hung up and braced himself against the wall. Bucky put his hand on Steve’s shoulder to comfort him. “Buck, when we land I want you to go straight to Y/N.” Bucky nodded and paced the floor with him.

As soon as they got back to the compound Steve tried calling you again. This time you answered but didn’t say anything. He could hear you sniffling on the other end. “Y/N, Bucky is coming to get you ok? You need to let him in.” You didn’t answer him at first. His heart was breaking for you. He squeezed his eyes his eyes shut, “Come on, Princess, I know you can hear me. Say something.”

“Ok” Click. At least that was something. Bucky grabbed some keys and found the car they belonged to. He raced to you as fast as he could. When he pulled up Logan greeted him.

🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅🔅

“She won’t let anyone in” Logan huffed.

Bucky advanced towards the house. He was scared to death that you were going to kill him. “She knew I was on the way. What’s stopping you from getting in? Will it kill me if I try?”

“Not exactly. It’s just that when you get close you can’t move. Like your body won’t advance or doesn’t want to. I can’t explain it accurately.” Logan was flustered. He had been trying to get to you for hours with no luck.

“Can she hear us talking or should I call her phone?”

“She can hear.”

The front door and windows were open. You were sitting on the couch staring at the wall. You looked so lost and pissed. Really pissed. The most scary thing is that you looked like you were scheming. Murderously scheming. Bucky hoped that none of Loki’s stupid tendencies rubbed off on you.

He got as close as you would allow and he spoke softly. “Hey, doll. Steve sent me to get you. We don’t want you to be alone. But if you don’t want to go I will sit here and wait as long as you want. But, I haven’t watched this season of Drag Race. If you want to let me in I can watch with you. I brought the essentials.”

Agatha perked up, “Keep going, Bucky. It’s working” she whispered.

“I have Funions from the gas station. I know you like road trip snacks. I also have peanut butter M&M’s and Oreos. If you have some ice cream we can make milkshakes. I have bourbon if you want to make it interesting. Not the fancy kind. That rot got Irish shit that burns when you swallow....”

“I hope you brought enough for everyone” you finally said. Bucky stood up and gingerly stepped into the doorway.

“I have plenty. Didn’t know how long I’d be here. Can we come in?”

“Door’s open, Buck.” He walked in quietly and sat on the couch.

“Everyone calm down. I’m not going to flip out. Sit down. Eat. I have leftovers in the fridge. Wolfie have you ever seen Drag Race?”

After a few drinks and lots of snacks everyone was ready to get some sleep. Ororo, Jean and Agatha headed back to the school. It wasn’t a long drive. You promised to call in the morning. No way Logan was leaving you. He set himself up in Thor’s room. Wade found the other bedroom. Bucky offered to take the couch but you asked him to sleep in bed with you.

He shot Steve a text. Instead of texting back he called.

“Hey. How’s it going over there?” Steve was very anxious. He didn’t know how to talk to you.

“Fine. I’m going to see if she’ll get some sleep. Agatha made her some tea. Said it had a mild sedative. I’m going to sit up with her.”

“Is she around? Can I talk to her?”

“You’re on speaker.”

It was quiet for a moment. “Hey, Steve. I’m ok. Well I’m not ok. I’m fucking gutted. I’m ok for now. I’ll go back with Bucky in the morning.”

“Take your time, sweetheart. We do kind of need all hands on deck though. I know the girls are dying to see you too. Get some sleep ok?”

“Ok.” and you clicked off the phone. “Has he always sounded like a worried mother or is that new?”

“Be nice” Bucky scolded. “He’s just worried. We all are. I’m going to shut off the light ok? Sleep.”

You held on to Bucky the whole night. You fought against the sedative for as long as you could but it finally won. As soon as you closed your eyes, there he was. Loki’s face was purple bruised and bloodied. His neck looked broken. His eyes were open and just stared unfocused. You tentatively reached out a hand to touch him but you pulled back.

You wanted to hit him, to scream in his face. You couldn’t bring yourself to move. Finally, you crawled towards him and situated yourself where you were laying against his chest. You used to fall asleep listening to his heart beating. There was only silence. You pulled his arm over you and tried to will him to wake up. When you squeezed him harder he turned to dust in your arms. You screamed and, judging by the look on the three men’s faces, you were screaming for real.

“Sorry, guys. Bad dream.” You settled back down and kept having the same dream. You didn’t scream anymore. You just held him as long as you could.

🟠🔴🔵🟣🟢🟡

The next morning you sent Logan and Wade home. You promised them you would be ok and that you wouldn’t murder a Titan without calling them first. You and Bucky chatted on the car ride back. The conversation was light and took your mind off of things.

When you got closer to the compound you got quiet. Seeing everyone again was making you feel anxious. Bucky held your hand. It felt like the first time you visited the compound with Wanda. Loki made you feel so safe.

You were trying to keep your emotions in check but when you saw Wanda, all of that went out of the window. She wrapped you in her arms and you melted down. “We were really happy.” Was all you could say. She and Nat took you upstairs so they could help you take a bath.

Bucky plopped in the chair. Steve looked at him like he wanted to ask a question but he was reluctant.

“How did she sleep?” he finally asked.

“She screamed in her sleep all night. Every time I thought she settled down it would happen again. The three of us took turns keeping watch. She electrocuted Wade once when he tried to shake her awake. It was pretty funny. She’s not ok, Steve.”

Steve signed and rubbed his face, “Shit. Why don’t you go take a nap and we’ll meet downstairs in a couple of hours?”

Already nodding off, Bucky didn’t have to be told twice. Steve paced outside of your door wanting to see you so badly. Finally Nat came out to get you some water.

“Does she want to eat? Can I see her?” He followed Nat down the hall bombarding her with questions.

She put her hand on his shoulder, “I know there are probably still feelings in there but you have to reign them in. She just lost her husband. Let her grieve before you swoop in.”

“I’m not swooping. Who is swooping? Wait! Husband?! They’re married?”

“Yes. Apparently he figured out a way to share his immortality with her. In doing so some elf priest split their souls and intertwined them together. If she puts back on her wedding ring she dies. It’s complicated.”

Steve’s head was spinning. He was still trying to understand the very simple fact that you and Loki were husband and wife.

“Does she want to see me?” His voice was small and timid.

Nat rolled her eyes, “Just go, Steve.”

He opened the door slowly and peered around the corner. You were sitting on the bed with your head in your hands. Wanda was rubbing your back.

He had never presumed that his relationship with you was on the same level as what you had with Loki. He did not share your twin abilities to know what the other is feeling. But this time, he could feel the despair drifting off of you like a fog.

He knelt beside the bed to try to see your face. You didn’t acknowledge him but you didn’t pull away. He had no words of comfort to give you. He could not take your pain away. He could only offer support.

“How can I help?” he whispered. You sat up and took his hands in hours. Your face was haggard and your body somehow looked frail.

“You can’t. I know it’s your nature to try to fix things but you can’t. Just be my friend.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do. Wanda, why don’t you go check on Vision? See how the plans are coming. I’ll stay here.”

Wanda was reluctant to leave. She promised not to go far. As soon as the door clicked closed Steve got into bed with you and scooped you into his lap. You buried your face in his shirt and screamed until you passed out. He held on to you as tight as he could to absorb as much as you would give.

The whole team hovered outside of your door until Steve came out. “She’s asleep. Let’s go hash this out. Let her get some rest.”

[unholymarvel]

New Story (Maybe)

So if I turned this into an actual book, would any of you read it?

There was this thing in the afterlife, on your birthday if you could get the person you love most to believe that you are truly there with them, then you can become a soul. A soul can only be felt and heard by one person, the person that you love more than anything. And to you, that was Bucky.

You constantly watched Bucky go through pain and suffering and it was tearing you apart. So this was your chance to help him.

You stepped through the gates and felt life flourish through your body, then you appeared in the compound. You felt alive. You could feel and hear your feet on the floor as you walked. And you noticed that everyone else could too. They all looked up from their work and looked around in confusion. Tears welled in all of their eyes.

You always had a distinct walk when you were happy, you skipped a step and landed lightly on your toes. They all heard it. And they knew it was yours. But they brushed it off as hearing things since they all thought of you on your birthday.

You made your way to Bucky’s room and opened the door. He looked up as you slid in but to him it was just a shadow and something creepy opening and shutting his door. But then he heard the step.

“Y/n?! Baby?! A-are you there?”

He seen your figure slowly appear. You wore a tight white dress and a huge smile.

“Hey Buck”

His face lit up and he jumped out of bed to hug you, but he couldn’t feel you. You could see him break all over again and you started to disappear.

“Wait Bucky! I’m here it’s okay! Please! You can’t feel me until you completely believe that I am here, but if you stop believing then I’ll be gone forever...”

A tear fell from your cheek and hit the floor. Bucky heard it and he lit up again. You slowly began to reappear and he started to tear up.

“H-how are you here?” His voice cracked through his tears

“I don’t have time to explain I just need you to believe I’m really here”

“I do! I believe your here!”

You gave him a weak smile. You knew deep down that he didn’t believe because if he did then you wouldn’t feel like you could float.

“Bucky, how can I prove that I’m really here?”

He looked around frantically and tried to find something- anything that could help him.

“Sing” he whispered

“What?”

“You used to sing to me when I had nightmares. Sing and I’ll know it’s you”

It took you a second to think of a song but you knew Bucky’s favorite.

🎵Heart beats fast

Colors and promises

How to be brave

How can I love when I'm afraid to fall

But watching you stand alone

All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow

One step closer

I have died every day waiting for you

Darling, don't be afraid

I have loved you for a thousand years

I'll love you for a thousand more🎵

Tears fell freely from his eyes and you began to feel heavier.

“You know I’m here”

You jumped into his arms and hugged him tighter than you ever had in your life. He hugged you back gently, feeling every part of your body to make sure you weren’t leaving.

“C-can you tell me what’s happing now?” He asked as he looked into your eyes like you were literally the only thing that ever mattered.

“Well when you die, if you saved multiple people or were known as a hero, you get a chance to come back as a spirit- well more of a soul. But you can only stay a soul completely if the person you love more than anything can believe your there”

You couldn’t read the expression on his face. He looked blank.

“S-so you’ll never leave me again?” His voice was shaky like he was going to break down again

“No- well yes but no. I have to go back tonight at midnight and come back 24 hours later. All I need to do is make sure you don’t stop believing when I’m gone”

He hugged you again tighter and tighter. He didn’t want to let you go. Never again. He couldn’t loose you.

“Bucky careful! I might be dead but you can still stop my breathing!” You laughed

“Sorry, sorry I just don’t wanna wake up and have this be some amazing dream o-or find out that I’m crazy and your not really here”

You put your hand on his cheek and he leaned into it just to feel you in every way possible.

“Bucky I’m here and I’m not leaving”

—The next morning—

You and Bucky spent the entire night cuddling in his bed until you slowly disappeared. You told him you’d be back and he believed you but he had to bite back tears when you left again.

Now he was up. Walking around the compound. Eating, drinking, and Steve saw him dancing in the hallway.

“Buck? You having a Seizure?!” Steve half shouted half laughed but he was still slightly worried.

“I saw y/n!”

Instant regret

Steve told him he was crazy. Multiple times. He made JARVIS scan him for brain tumors.

—that night—

When you appeared in Bucky’s room again you felt different. You were only half there. Bucky was loosing hope. And it hurt like hell. Not mentally but physically you were in a world of pain.

“Bucky?”

He noticed the pain in your voice and looked up from his spot in the corner.

“I’m crazy. Your not real I’m just crazy”

Then a sharp pain came shooting through you and you collapsed on the floor shouting in pain.

Bucky stood up and ran to you.

“Y/n?! What’s wrong?!”

He pulled you up to him and held your face in his hands. Tears formed in your eyes as you looked at him.

“Bucky you don’t believe I’m here.” You winced in pain midway through your sentence but you tried to stay strong.

“If you don’t believe it then I have to go forever and I don’t wanna leave you and- and it hurts to go” your voice was cracking as you faded

The tears flowed freely down your cheeks and onto his hands. But in that moment the pain stopped. He was believing again

“I’m so so so sorry babydoll I didn’t want to put you in pain this is all my fault”

You clung to him like a scared squirrel about to fall from a tree. You needed him just as much as he needed you. And he would be your everything from now until he dies.

—4 hours later—

Bucky sat on the couch in the compound with you on his lap. One of his arms clung to you at all times and never ever let you go.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice was like hearing your favorite song after being deaf for 10 years. You missed him so much and you couldn’t even talk to him.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

Steve couldn’t see you so to him it looked like Bucky was holding his hand in the air super uncomfortably.

“I’m watching a movie with y/n”

Steve’s face softened as he sat next to Bucky.

“Bucky... y/n is dead she’s been dead. I know it’s hard at this time but you need to hold on”

“Steve I’m not crazy she’s here I know she’s here!”

Bucky was getting a bit angry but you carefully drug your fingers up his thigh and he calmed down.

“JARVIS scan James Barnes for injury or medical issues” Steve ordered the AI

“I’m sorry sir I cannot do that. There seems to be paranormal activity around James that is blocking my censors. Would you like me to check the paranormal activity?”

Steve’s face dropped as he looked at Bucky

“She’s here?”

“She’s here.”

“Can you see her?”

“Yes”

“W-what does she look like?”

“As beautiful as ever. She hasn’t changed at all”

Steve’s voice was breaking now as he slumped back into the couch. You couldn’t help but reach out and carefully hold his hand. And he grabbed yours.

“Bucky?! I-is that her?”

“Yeah she’s holding your hand”

Steve would never be able to see or hear you but at least he could feel you. Bucky smiled up at you and kissed your cheek softly.

—months later—

Steve and Bucky got used to having you around. Bucky had to spend time with you in his room and Steve had to wait until he felt your small hand take his. But something you learned was that only the people that loved you A LOT could feel you. That would be Steve, Tony, Peter, Wanda, and Pietro.

You knew the others loved you but not a lot. And only Steve could fully feel you. And you loved to mess with him. You would occasionally step in front of him in the hall and he would bump into you and scream every time.

You had to learn not to do your ‘little skip walk’ as Bucky called it so nobody would hear it and figure anything out.

Right now, Bucky was laying in bed just cuddling you. Nothing else. The only thing in the world was you...

[homogrimoire-archive]

Lu Vresha Eend Howyethnsch

[Excerpt] Long after the lives of the lovers had past, the kingdom fell to ruin, stuck by a great disaster out of anyone's control. Another kingdom would rise, and fall, in its place, just as others had in the past. It would face problems like its predecessors once did, and would be given hope by the few glorious souls that rallied the masses and dared to fight for their values. Yes, the kingdom they fought for would fall too. Yes their hardship would essentially equate to nothing in the ultimate infinity of the universe. But, in their short existences, they tried and did their best to make a difference in their time. They made a difference to those around them. They made a difference in the course of history They made a difference in each other’s lives. And in their end, they had love. What other end could be more joyous than to die in love?

[Ana and Jack rejoin Overwatch. Jack finds himself becoming closer and closer to Reinhardt, who had been pining for years.]

AO3 Link

Long ago, there existed a kingdom in a forest. It was breathing the breaths of life in it's newfound status and growth. It was prosperous, stable. At some point in its history, it began a cruel conquest, fueled by the memories of it's suffering from a recent war. It feared that suffering, and sought to ensure that it would never suffer again.

-

Reinhard stood at the resting place of his master. He remembers his sacrifice. An honorable death. A death that perhaps could have been avoided if he wasn't so cocky and such a honor hungry glutton. That bit of guilt always resided in him. This is part of the reason he fulfilled his master's last duty. It was the least he could do.

It is bittersweet, but his master's unfortunate death allowed him to become a better person. It was this passed down, sacred duty given to him from his felled master that led to him experiencing and learning so much. It allowed him to meet many great people who he would never forget. It was for the gift of those memories that he would always honor his duty and answer the call. He would keep the memory of his master alive. He would not let it be forgotten.

The scans were completed a while ago, so all that was left to do was pay his respects. He left the medallion entrusted to him all those years ago on the armrest. A piece of those memories for his old friend to hold onto, memories that perhaps could have been his.

-

Long ago, there existed a forest kingdom. It was ruled by a king favored by many. He brought forth a new era. He was spurred by the memories of old stories he heard in his youth, among them, stories of a grand and prosperous kingdom. He desired to bring those stories to life as much as he could, and he did.

-

Jack stared at the photo, an old thing that managed to withstand the passage of time and preserve distant memories. So many memories, all filled with so many emotions, many of them never to be felt again, forever just a memory. Yet, it was the memories incited by that photo that spurned him in a seemingly distant past. Even in the present, they still provoked him to fight on.

Ana understood this well, perhaps even more so. Her husband, her daughter, available to her only in memories. Yet, they compelled her to continue the fight more than anything. She never needed to ask why he stared at it in silence for so long, caressing the worn edges. She knew that despite wanting more, they were still content enough with their current lives. He had kept tabs on Vincent, and learned that moved on, and was living a good happy life. She had kept tabs on Fareeha and Sam, and saw that they had come to do just fine.

All was well in the end. The ghosts who were kept alive by memories were accepting of their afterlife in the physical realm. That was, until their shared ghost had come back to life to haunt them. A recall was issued for Overwatch, and suddenly, there was an opportunity to face the present and future, to no longer be bound by the past. At least, that’s how Ana saw it. She wanted to see her daughter, even if she was doing what she had never hoped the girl would do. But, what child always listens to their parents?

She expressed her desire to Jack, just to learn that the stubborn fool desired differently. She honestly expected as much. Their time as ghosts were over. The Shrike and Soldier: 76 had to cease their existence, even if just for a moment, so that Ana Amari and Jack Morrison could face the present: the reality where their dreams were long gone, replaced by the truth, cold and hard it may be at first. Cold and hard it may even always be, but it is the truth.

She decided that she would leave, with or without him. She wanted to face reality so that she could have a decent future, what would remain of it, at least. She wasn’t getting any younger, and she knew it. Still, she tried to convince him one last time. She was his friend, and only wanted the best for him, be it a whack to the back of his head, or a hug.

“Overwatch was our home, Jack. It still is. It is our family. Are you really going to abandon it now that you have this second chance?” she questioned.

“You know as well as I do it was a lot more than just that.” he replied. There was Blackwatch, for starters. And Overwatch was an international organization with the power to help and hinder many, for better or worse. Eventually, it toppled under the weight it carried. When it fell, it was evident it was something the world no longer needed. Talon and its adversaries had bested the organization as well, proving to Jack that it could not be dealt with in the light. Yet…

“Even so, we have a chance to live, to help others learn from the mistakes we made. Will you even abandon that duty just so you can mope all day and beat someone up now and then? The dead can only affect the living so much, Jack. There will come a day when you will truly die. Will you be content to die as someone forgotten, content to die a miserable, delusional old man? You know when I’ll be leaving. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, and know that you’ll be missed, again.”

With that, she left him to think. He had been alone for so long, it hardly seemed to matter anymore. But, she had a point. Was he really alright with dying alone. In the crisis, he had his fellow soldiers to live and die with. He was fortunate enough to be among the survivors. In Overwatch, he did not enter the battlefield much anymore. It was indeed lonely at the top, being pulled away from his friends, family, and love. For what? He wasn’t sure anymore. Even so, he was never truly alone. Gabe and Ana were still with him, more often for work related reasons than not, but still. Vincent, the understanding man he was, still loved him despite how often he was away. Jack loved him too, still did, in a way different than before, but it was love all the same.

He considered that she was perhaps right, calling him miserable and delusional. His time as a ghost among mortals was miserable. Even as Strike Commander, working seemingly endless hours, he was able to find moments of repose. A calm night with Vincent, a huge dinner with Ana and Gabe and their families, a simple thank-you letter handed to him from a promising trainee. There was none of that as a ghost.

He missed that, more than he wanted to admit. Did he really think this was how he wanted to live? Even if he wouldn't have any of that if he returned to the living, there were other things life had to offer. He feared he could lose even that too. But, he had to try, didn’t he?  That was what he had always done. There was no reason to stop now, especially not in the name of fear. What kind of soldier would he be otherwise? A dead one, that’s what.

-

The kingdom went across the lands, conquering and destroying any who opposed it. Soon, their conquest had ended. They gained a vast amount of land, inhabited by an array of peoples. These people were now people of the kingdom, and the people of the kingdom did not suffer. The people of the forest forgot this.

-

Reinhardt and Brigitte were the first, aside from Lena, to respond to the call. After their short flight, they were at their new base, the base of the new Overwatch. Reinhardt had been there at Gibraltar before, though not often. He remembered it as mostly uneventful, but great for his tan. There, he and Brigitte met up with Winston and Lena. By all definitions, this was the gorilla’s home, and a second home to Lena. It was great to see some familiar faces. Being the only ones to have currently “officially” rejoined Overwatch, Winston and Lena were excited to give them a tour of the new base of operations. It was a work in progress, one knight and his squire would be happy to help complete.

That night, over dinner, they discussed who they thought would answer the call and show up. Winston noted that Angela and Genji were likely candidates, and Mei was en route after a trek through the Antarctic and traveling across the world. They also imagined Torbjorn would be joining, and Ana’s daughter if she caught wind of the revival. Aside from them, it was anyone’s bet as to who would answer the call. It may not be a lot of people, but it was a start, and that was all they would need. Their first mission was already set for a few months time, leaving plenty of time for people to answer, and to work on the base.

Torbjorn was the next to arrive, to the great joy of Brig and Rein. His engineering expertise was invaluable. After that, came Mei. Only Torbjorn and Winston knew her beforehand. Tracer, Brig, and Rein had found her very agreeable, very clearly a wonderful woman who would fit right in. She became incorporated into their friend group in no time. After her, to everyone’s surprise, was Echo, renowned creation of Mina Liao and overall a great companion.

Before they knew it, their first mission came and went, a stunning success. It was no surprise that Fareeha showed up at their doorstep soon after. Rein remembered her very well. She was an adorable little one who loved heroism, and grew into a fine,strong woman. He would play with her with Mcree every now and then.

While he was glad she was among them, fulfilling her lifelong dream, he could not help but feel that he was a bit alone. Among brilliant minds and an advanced AI, he stood out. Fareeha was similar to him, just a simple soldier, but much younger than him, so not as relatable. He was very close to Torbjorn and Brig as well, but he still could not help but feel that something was missing. He realized what it was when Torbjorn had bought it up one night, when it was just them sharing a few drinks. Or rather, Torb had directly said what it was.

Ana, Gabriel, Jack. Things were just not the same without them. Even as things got rough towards the end, they were still family. As Torb had put it, they were as core to Overwatch as “a nano-thermal heat sink was to a intra-dynamic processor module.” Reinhardt could only assume the man was correct. His knowledge of technology and such was minimal, just enough to keep up his armor and hammer by himself. Even then, he trusted Brig to take care of it better than himself. He was just a soldier after all. A Crusader, yes, but a simple soldier all the same. He was only taught what was necessary for battle, same as his long dead companions.

Yet, they still stood out among even the best. Rein supposed he was much the same though. By all means, he was an accomplished man. He could have retired and lived the rest of his life as a distinguished soldier during the Omnic Crisis and honorably discharged member of Overwatch. No. He decided to continue fighting on, to eventually die a warrior’s death, as Balderich had, as Jack, Ana, and Gabriel had. He imagined they would have done the same, except for maybe Ana. In all fairness, she did not have super soldier juice in her, and had a family. Rein certainly wouldn't have blamed her.

That night, as he lay in his bed, he remembered back to the days and nights they all shared together. The revelry of a victory, the woe of loss, the small moments that are difficult to remember, but the feelings they contain never forgotten. Eventually, his mind wandered to the first time he met them, there in Gibraltar.

It was a great honor to be working with them to aid in the creation of a better world for all. They all responded accordingly, in their own way of course. It was when Jack greeted him did Reinhardt swear he fell in love. He did not realize it at first, but he would realize it soon enough. He knew it was a bad idea to fall for your superior, but he did nonetheless. There was something about his smile and the way he spoke.

Hearing that the man had a boyfriend both gave him hope, and crushed him a little. On one hand, he wouldn't be pining after a straight guy, on the other, Jack was taken. Rein might wield a smashing hammer, but he was no homewrecker. Over the years, he would only fall for the Strike Commander more and more.

Yet, for all his bravery, he never told another soul. It is the simple things that time takes away: small yet warm memories, the first time he ever kissed another some time while a soldier, the voice of a friend from his youth. However, his love for Jack was not simple. Thus, it persisted.

-

The king, fueled by the memories of stories, forgot he resided in the present, in reality. His enemies knew where they resided. By the time he realized he could not attain the greatness he desired, he was fine. He had learned how to deal with reality, and did his best to bring what he could of those stories into reality. It was not easy, but with the memories of his people, he did what he could, and created new memories in the process.

-

When Jack and Ana had arrived at the Watchpoint, it was well on its way to sliding into the ocean. Smoke bellowed in places as agents, many of them familiar faces, fought off what were obviously Talon forces. Ana rolled her eye, always sure the organization would have collapsed without her. It did fall after she was “killed,” so she might have been onto something.

Without hesitation, they joined the fray as unknown, masked combatants, proving who they sided with very quickly. They eventually found themselves split from each other, nothing concerning in the slightest. Ana found herself working alongside her daughter, the memorable cowboy, and an omnic she recognized as reminiscent of an OR-15 model. She made sure to keep her children healthy in between getting acquainted with the omnic and sleeping any fools who dared get close.

Meanwhile, Jack found himself fighting alongside the Crusader, an ancient bastion unit, and  one very talented, very short, engineer. The giant crusader tried to make small talk with him, but Jack repeatedly responded with a noncommittal grunt or with something basic and unrevealing. Despite this, the German remained as friendly as ever, just as Jack had remembered. He had found the man to be loud, but never really minded so long as he wasn’t having a bad day. If it was one of those days, which were frequent towards the end, he would kindly lower his voice, which honestly wasn’t particularly quiet. Regardless, it was a greatly appreciated gesture when he felt so underappreciated himself.

Eventually, the battle reached its conclusion. Talon robots lay defeated, their remains would later reveal useful information. A few enemy ships were making their escape, Tracer chasing after them in hopes of being able to land a tracker on at least one of them. And to top it all off, Widowmaker had been captured. However, the one known as the Reaper had escaped, as they would learn in a hastily thrown together meeting with some refreshments. It was then that The Shrike and Soldier: 76 spoke up.

“The Reaper is a strong foe, though a dumb one.” the Shrike spoke. “Dumb fool…”

“We also know him as Gabriel Reyes, former head of Blackwatch.” 76 revealed. He was immediately bombarded with questions of how he could say such a thing without any evidence. Not only that, Gabriel had been long dead after all.

“You’d be surprised at how hard it is to kill an old soldier.” she responded, taking off her mask to reveal her face. Of course, her daughter was the first to recognize her.

“… Mom?” Fareeha asked. “You’re… alive.” Her mother nodded her head. A wide variety of emotions covered Fareeha’s face as she stormed out the room. Ana sighed.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to deal with this. I’m sure you all understand.” she said with the nonchalant wave of a hand as she went after her daughter. A moment of silence followed, all eyes eventually shifting to the masked man who arrived with her.

“You… I know who you are then! You’re Jack!” Reinhardt shouted, pointing a large finger at the man.

“…”

“Ahh! Your silence isn’t hiding anything old friend!” he bellowed, moving a few steps to give him a heavy pat on the back, making the smaller man slightly off balanced for a moment. “It is great to have you back.” he said more softly with a warm smile. Somehow, it made Jack soften up a little.

“It…” he began, taking off his mask before continuing. “It’s nice to see you too Reinhardt.”

-

It was not until they saw their memories played out by the people they conquered, who were now people of the kingdom, that they remembered this. The conquered lands were given an option, they could receive reparations and sever their ties to the kingdom, or receive one half of the reparations and join the forest kingdom in a coalition. They would form a single kingdom, each land in the kingdom equal in power. Many refused. They survived just fine. Those that joined experienced the mixing and melding of their memories that, as a result, birthed new memories reminiscent of their old ones

-

In the following months, things began to return to normal. The base was quickly rebuilt thanks to the help of friends around the world. More recruits, of faces old and new, had joined as well. Sojourn, Genji and the cyborg's brother were now a part of Overwatch. Other new faces included a friend of Winston’s from the moon, a freedom fighter who utilized the power of music and sonic technology, and a combat medic who was once a part of Talon. Meanwhile, Angela was making progress towards reverse engineering the brainwashing process so she could help Amile.

Ana had slowly been warming up to Fareeha, who was rightfully angry at her mother for deciding to leave. It saddened Ana, but was sure things would be alright in time. In the meantime, Overwatch provided her with a decent amount of work, be it missions, training, or catching up. It was decidedly better than being a ghost, but Hawai'i seemed much more tempting at times. However, she did find much joy in sharing what she had learned over the years to the younger ones, and had definitely missed gossiping at a base over tea. Vishkar representative Satya and former yakuza prince Hanzo proved to be good company in such a pastime.

Jack, on the other hand, was well in his element. He was no longer the Strike Commander, back to being a regular old soldier. Though, his insight from his past experience proved valuable of course. He soon found himself being happier with a smile on his face more often than not. He had Reinhardt to frequently thank for that. They seemed to bond over being two stubborn old soldiers. It was something Jack wished he had the time for back then, but, he had the present to do that now.

Rein was funnier than he remembered. There was also something about him that made Jack want to spend more time with the Crusader. Perhaps it was his hearty laughs that captured the attention of all, or the frequent nights they would spend together sharing a friendly drink, talking about the good and bad of their pasts, ultimately finding comfort in each other through the virtue that they weren’t so alone anymore. Perhaps it was because the man was an inspiration, a glorious sight to those who wished for hope. Jack had been one such person for a long time.

-

It was during these times did the great king reign. During all this, he was aided by many people who cared for him dearly. His mission of dreams and reality left little room for love in his life, even refusing beneficial marriages as he did not want to be an absent husband. Yet, after many years, he came to realize that there was in fact someone he loved: a knight of great renown who hailed from a conquered kingdom that joined the coalition. However, the king did not confess his love. It was only when the knight lay near death did he reveal his feelings. Perhaps it was that admission that spurned the knight to fight off death. Perhaps he would have lived regardless. What is known is that they kept their taboo love a secret.

-

This mission was supposed to be an easy one. Both soldiers should have known better than to expect things to be easy, but they were so confident in their teammates, and each other. They had been separated from the group, fighting their way to the drop point to escape. Comms went down after the order was issued to retreat and the coordinates were given. Hacked. Hopefully, the ship they were using to escape wouldn't be hacked.

The Talon machines were typically weak things, but plentiful. The sheer volume of them was what made things difficult. Jack could shoot all day, Reinhardt would hold his shield for as long as it could, and turn machines to scrap when it came to it. It was when his shield was down did his friend get hurt. A bullet to the chest, another to the leg with lots of blood flowing from it. He immediately rushed to the man, scooping him up, holding him close as he ignored the enemies and charged for the escape point. Rein didn’t know if he himself would make it.

“You know… you’re a good man, Rein.”

“Save your breath. I’ll get you to the doctors soon.” he assured.

“Heh. I think… this is fate. A warrior’s death… Honorable, and all that.”

Reinhardt remained silent. A warrior’s death was indeed honorable, but also sad, so very sad. But, at least Jack’s would not be lonely. No. There was no room for such thoughts. He steeled his resolve.

“No. You won’t be dying today! I love you too much to let you die like this!” he announced. I don’t want to lose you!

Just then, the machines froze, as if by command, their glows shifting from red to purple. Rein did not care why. If they were down, they were down. That’s all that mattered. He eventually arrived at the ship, Baptiste and Angela already there. Quickly, they shifted their attention to Jack. Fareeha was already patched up, leaving her to check Rein for any major wounds, thankfully none. His armor had served its purpose. Winston had suffered only minor injuries, and could patch himself up.

Rein could only pray and watch as the two doctors worked their gruesome yet incredible magic. Hearing that he would need a blood transfusion was concerning, but he had faith in the doctors, and hope. He could not bear the alternatives. He did not want to have to actually bury his friend again so soon like this.

It was fortunate that he and Jack shared the same blood type. He did not hesitate to offer his blood. He would never hesitate to sacrifice his blood for those he loved and wished to protect. All he could do was somberly wait, his eyes fixated on the man pale as a ghost.

They arrived back at the base where he was given more thorough treatment. Rein hated that he had to be pulled away from his fellow soldier, but he needed to be examined too, and they couldn’t risk his blood levels getting too low. They had all they needed at the base. All he could do was wait once more.

When he returned to Jack, he was still asleep on the bed in the medical ward. That night, he stood by Jack’s side, falling asleep in a chair was just barely a bit too small. He had the oddest dream that night, one of an ancient king and his lover, a knight.

When he awoke, Jack was still asleep, machines methodically beeping and droning quietly. But, Jack was still alive, and some color had returned to his face. Throughout the day, many came to visit, Brigitte and Torbjorn bringing breakfast, Ana, Winston and Lena drinking lunch, and Fareeha and Mcree bringing dinner. They all recalled old memories and stories, wishing for the best when they left.

It was a few hours after Fareeha and Mcree had left when Rein noticed that he began to stir. He shouted for one of the medics as he quickly returned to focus on Jack. Baptiste was the one to show up.

“What…”, Jack groaned, “Where... am I?”

“Safe and sound, that’s where. You took some pretty nasty hits back there. Let’s see…” the combat medic said as he pulled up the patient notes. “Major blood loss, damage to a major artery, punctured lung. Yup. Pretty nasty. Thanks to our friend here, you’ll live. Hmm, and thanks to some super soldier serum, apparently.” he noted. “Well, you should be good as new by the morning. Rest until then, and take it easy after. We’ll go over it tomorrow.”

“Right. Thanks doc.” he said as Bap began to walk away.

“Finally!” he gasped. “Someone thanked me! You’re welcome. Oh, and maybe get some actual food in you. Holler if you need anything, One of us will answer.” he finished with a wave goodbye.

Once the doctor left the vicinity, Rein practically jumped to pull Jack into a killer hug.

“Ah, thank goodness you will be well!” he rejoiced.

“Ack! They just fixed me!” he shouted.

“Right, sorry.” he sheepishly apologized. Jack let out a light huff.

“It’s alright. It’s nice to see you though.” he said with a friendly slap to the tank’s back. “So, uh, thanks. For helping me out back there.”

“Bah. Think nothing of it. It is what comrades do for one another. But, you are welcome.”

When he left Jack to get him some food, which ended up being warmed up leftover burgers and fries from the night before, Rein got to thinking. He wondered how much Jack remembered. Did he remember getting wounded? The declarations of love? The robots being hacked? How he held him tightly in his arms? Or even what happened in the ship? Rein hoped that he at least remembered the declaration of love. He didn’t think he'd ever get the courage to do it again, even after knowing Jack had moved on from Vincent.

When he came back, he noticed that Jack seemed lost in thought. But, he seemed to snap out of it once he noticed Reinhardt, thanking him for the food.

“It seemed as if there was something on your mind.” he said.

“Yeah… I need your opinion on something.” Jack requested. Rein was eager to give it. “I’ve been thinking, maybe I am getting a bit too old for this.”

“You know, I had been thinking of retirement as well.”

“You have?” Jack asked, shocked. Rein gave a lighthearted laugh.

“Yes, I have. A warrior’s death is honorable, but it would be missing something I want.” he replied.

“It’s love, isn’t it?” Jack questioned. So he did remember. Rein sheepishly turned away.

“Yes. It is love.”

“I think… I love you too, Reinhardt. Sorry, if I read things wrong, I─”

“No! You didn’t!” Rein quickly responded. Jack laughed, his bright smile the apple of Reinhardt’s eye.

“I’m glad then. I’d be honored to spend the rest of my life with you, if… that’s alright with you.”

“There would be no greater honor, than to spend the rest of my life with the man I love.” he said, placing his hand gently on top of Jack’s. They softly smiled at each other, gazing warmly at the man they loved.

-

Long after the lives of the lovers had passed, the kingdom fell to ruin, stuck by a great disaster out of anyone's control. Another kingdom would rise, and fall, in its place, just as others had in the past. It would face problems like its predecessors once did, and would be given hope by the few glorious souls that rallied the masses and dared to fight for their values. Yes, the kingdom they fought for would fall too. Yes their hardship would essentially equate to nothing in the ultimate infinity of the universe. But, in their short existences, they tried and did their best to make a difference in their time. They made a difference to those around them. They made a difference in the course of history. They made a difference in each other’s lives. And in their end, they had love. What other end could be more joyous than to die in love?

-

The honorable beings, who time and time again would arise to help their world, were fueled by the memories of others. And in turn, they fueled the memories of others as well. In a never ending cycle of despair. But, this is where hope and love are reborn, time, and time, again.

[theircurse]

╰ ☆ ✧ — Anonymous asked: Yokohoma is now raining bananas

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted. ) ☆ :-

ˏˋ *ㅤ★ㅤ‿︵ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕ㅤ—ㅤ𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒔 𝒖𝒑 𝒂 𝒃𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒔 and gives it a good, long stareㅤ—ㅤand then finallyㅤ—ㅤ

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ❛ㅤLooks like things are going BANANAS !ㅤ❜

⊱ ★ ⊰ㅤ˗ˏˋㅤ—ㅤAnd the award for the WORLD'S MOST CRINGE HUMAN BEING ALIVE goes toㅤ—ㅤ

[theircurse-archive4]

╰ ☆ ✧ — Anonymous asked: rumor has it that if you hug yumeno a squeaky toy noise comes out, is this true?

↳ -: ☆ ( Unprompted ) ☆ :-

Oh, ABSOLUTELY anon. They do squeak like the squeakiest of toys.

[theircurse-archive3]

✧ * º • –– Anonymous asked:   HEY YUMENO WHY ARE YOU SO SMALL

                            ⮩      【      𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃.    】  

' HEY ! I'm a big kid ! I'm TALL ! I'm really tall ! '

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (45)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

That feeling... you thought it would be gone forever. But it’s still there. And it’s much heavier than before. The question is: why? Why is this feeling of insecurity, this feeling that something dangerous is going to happen to you, still there? You know everything. You know that Danny won't do anything to you, that he will always make sure that the police don't know anything. But you have a hunch that the thing that wants to hurt you... is foreign to the city. to the country itself. You've been hearing for a few days something... unusual. Like voices.

But these voices are inaudible from others. Only you seem to hear them. At least that's what you think. They are strange, impossible to distinguish whether it is men or women who talk to you. or maybe both? Just as it is impossible to know what they are telling you. These are whispers. The only words you managed to understand once were: "Sorrow" and "Suffering". But nothing more. Could it be ghosts? spirits wandering aimlessly and trying to get in touch with you? From memory, you don't remember having a gift for communicating with spirits. But you've always believed in it. And you have always respected the dead, whether they were people you knew or complete strangers. Perhaps this respect has earned you a gift from the gods, allowing you to contact the afterlife? Maybe.

“Have you seen the latest news? In the end Hoggins was not McKellan's murderer. It was Ghostface!” said one the customer.  

“Yeah, I saw. But hey, is it surprising? No. Does this change anything? neither. And I want to tell you: so much the better. At least we are sure of who we should thank.” said his friend.  

“Excuse me? You wanna thank that freaking psycho for killing people? He’s a twisted man! Not a hero!” Replied the first one.

“Yeah, and he killed two others monsters, who stole money from the poorest and even the richest for their personal accounts! Moreover, it seems that Hoggins was involved in a more horrific scandal in Florida. They only got what they deserved.” Responds the second one.  

“I have heard of this story. What a bastard, to let sick people die when they could be saved. You have to be inhuman to do that. Fortunately, we have journalists like Jed Olsen to shed light on this kind of horror. Imagine how much longer Hoggins could have remained free if guys like Olsen didn't risk their lives and careers for it.” said another man before drink his coffee. “We need a guy like him to rule this damn country.”  

If only you knew sir what we know about "Jed Olsen". If only you knew... you would quickly change your point of view. But he and the second man in the trio were right, if Danny hadn't put his life and career on the line, Hoggins would still be free with impunity. And so does McKellan. They deserved to die it's true, and Danny made sure of it. He is both a completely twisted murderer, but also a hero to the inhabitants of this city. A murderous hero... you would have a hard time knowing how he would have reacted, if he ever heard it.

He would be both flattered and annoyed perhaps. Because that's not how he wants to be remembered, he doesn't want to be remembered that way. But simply as the greatest murderer in history who has never been arrested, and whose identity will forever remain a mystery. Like Jack the Ripper in itself. You wonder inwardly if Danny was inspired by it. It’s quite possible.  

“I find it hard to believe what I just heard. Ghostface who goes from murderer to hero of the little people. It looks like the end of the movie "Joker".” said suddenly a woman voice. When you turned your head, you could see Melina, smiling at you like always, coming to the table next to the counter. “Same as usual Amy!”  

“Alright! Right away!” responds Amy with a smile.  

“Hey... you look like you have your head in the clouds. Everything's fine? Jed made you live another wild night? Be careful, you will end up with a little baby at home very quickly if it continues.” replied Melina laughing by looking at you.  

“Really funny Melina.” you start before laughing too. “Even though Jed is... wild, he knows how to be careful. We are not yet ready to have a baby. But let's say that for a few days... I have trouble sleeping well.”

“Oh. Tell me maybe I can give you two or three advices.”

You tell Melina about your bad nights. If at first, she listened attentively and without expressing emotion, once your story was finished, the young woman looked at you with big eyes, as if you had just told her your most shameful secret of your life.

“Shit, so they're after you too...” she said worried.

“What do you mean?” you ask worried.  

“Jed told me the same thing the other day. He said he heard the same whispers and even had nightmares about them. Nightmares where you were there. I thought it was just a fear not to be able to take care of you but... I have to believe that my mystical side was right.”

Hold on. Danny went through the same things you did and he didn't tell you anything? It's not very friendly. But in a sense... you can't really blame him. He certainly had good reasons not to tell you about it. Surely, he didn't want to worry you, or that you would think he was crazy. Even if he is a little bit crazy in a sense. And again, the word is weak.

“You and Jed are related. And I feel like you've attracted... negative entities. Spirits, ghosts who want to hurt you. They may be trying to reach you through dreams first, but who knows how this can evolve. And who can be these spirits.” said Melina worried.  

“You starting to scare me. Why us? Jed and I didn't do anything except ... live our lives and do our work.” you said scared.

“Evil spirits have no particular criteria for attacking someone. If they find a target they like, or someone provokes them, then they go after that person. In your case, I think it's related to Jed. Because I think the mcKellan and Hoggins' souls are not... Left. They are surely stuck here because of their hatred and anger. And since you're in a relationship with Jed, they're attacking you too. Or, it's a much more powerful entity than those two. But in any case, it wants to hurt you. You're going to have to be very careful.”

“There's no way to get them to leave?”

“I could use the objects my grandmother used to purify a house but... I'm not sure I'm as good as she was. It's really very meticulous as a practice.” replied Melina.  

“I'll talk about it with Jed tonight. Thank you very much Melina.” you respond.  

You went back to work and the rest of your day was all about anxiety. If Melina is telling the truth, then you are in danger. Maybe that's why you have this strange feeling of not being safe when, all those who could have hurt you are dead, under Danny's sharp blade. And he, too, had the same experience. There is not much you can do about evil spirits except to drive them out. And you will deeply hope that Melina will be your salvation. Otherwise... you will have to think about leaving the city. Or start praying to God.

The last customers of the day ended up leaving your café, greeting you warmly. Then it was Amy and Corey’s turn who for a few days, got very close to each other. They were so lovely together. You clean the last tables before you take care of the back shop. Danny shouldn't be long in coming, so you'll both be able to discuss these nightmares you're both experiencing. Hoping he isn't too tired or in a hurry to kill someone tonight.

While you were cleaning your kitchen tools, you suddenly hear a noise coming from the room. You put down your equipment and take a weapon in case it’s a thief. You move carefully through the room until you reach the switch to turn on the light. But nothing. not the shadow of a thief, or an object that fell to the ground. You may have dreamed... Then suddenly, whispers. The same whispers you've been hearing for days and days. But this time it looks like it's coming from the back shop you just left.  

When you return to the back shop, you find that the door leading to the outside is... strange. A dark aura emanated from it and mist escaped from the lock and the bottom of the door. The whispers became clearer as you approached.

“(Y/N) …(Y/N) ...It’s time. Come with us. Join us. Feed my hunger. Give us all your suffering and sorrow. For all eternity.” said the voices.

“Who are you? And what do you want from me?” you ask.

“Who we are doesn’t matter. The most important is that you’ll feed us. With your screams, your pain, your sorrow, your blood. Now come with us. It’s time for you to meet your fate.”

Suddenly the door opened on a thick black mist. Giant spider legs came out and tried to catch you. You step back several steps but visibly, they are much longer than you hoped. As it was about to take you away, you feel something pulling you back. Under the effect of fear, you try to struggle when a familiar voice was heard.

“Hey! Hey Honey It’s me! Calm down!” said Danny by blocking yourself by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “It’s me...stay calm.”

“Danny...” you start as you feel tears in the corner of your eyes.  

The voices were heard again, and the paws moved towards the two of you. Danny pushed you, one of the spider legs injuring his arm in the process. He took a weapon in his hands and pushed it back to the door before getting against it and locking it. The door began to move, as if we wanted to open it from the outside and then after a few minutes... a silence set in. Everything had stopped. Danny stepped back before looking at you making sure you were still there. Then he joins you, taking you in his arms.

“What the f**k was that thing?? And what did it want??” you said crying.

“I don’t know. But for now...we’re safe.” said Danny.  

“You’re...you’re hurt. I have a first care kit. I will take care of your injury.”

You take the first care kit and ask Danny to come and sit next to you so you can treat him. He winced when you applied the disinfectant but remained motionless until you applied the bandages to him. You then put away the equipment and both of you leave the café to go home. Once at the apartment, you both sit on the sofa sighing, still in shock from what had just happened.

“Melina was right. We have attracted evil spirits. And they're not going to let us go now.” You said.  

“Honey please... Don't tell me you believe in this bullshit...” responds Danny, passing a hand on his face.  

“Danny, you saw what I saw! And you were hurt! How can you not believe in these things?? You suffered the same thing as me! Melina told me everything.”

“Okay, okay, stay calm. If they're really hitting spirits, there's not much we can do but chase them away, hoping it works.”

“Melina proposed it to me... it doesn't cost anything to try. But if it doesn't work... either we will have to leave the city, or we will have to pray to God.” you replied.

“Leaving the city would not be of much use and I have not believed in God for years. So don't count on me to pray to him. Anyway, knowing that I am a murderer I am not sure that he does much for me.” Responds Danny before getting up.  

You watch Danny walk to his office and walk out a few minutes later with his bag. He's not going to go out and kill someone tonight, is he? And even less leave you alone?? This thing, whatever it is, could come back! As he was about to leave, you take his hand before sticking yourself against him.

“Don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Please...” you said sadly.

“We no longer risk anything. I don't think this thing is attacking the two of us again.” Danny responds.  

“How do you know? If it happens, maybe it will only go after you and I will never see you again! Danny please... Stay with me.”

“...Fine Honey. I’ll stay. Tomorrow I'll call Melina. If her magic shits works...we’ll be safe again. Let’s eat something and go to sleep.”  

Despite his words, you do not let him go. On the contrary, you will tighten more and more against him. And he gave it back to you. Whatever that thing is, it will surely come back. Danny is maybe a murderer, but he is the one you love. And if this thing has to take Danny, it will have to take you too.

And that's what it intends to do. One way or another.

***

(My second dose of vaccine is finally done! but the effects were quick to manifest, I think my body wanted to do a speed run X) Don't worry it was nothing very bad, arm pain after the injection and the next day, headache in the morning and some dizziness in the evening. But now I'm feeling better! and above all, I will finally be able to enjoy the simple pleasures of life! And go see Dune at the cinema! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the other ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all!  See ya! )

[atutakesatohra]

Yesterday, when I woke up from an afternoon nap, a highschool friend forwarded a link and asked me to verify if it's true. It was about Miura Haruma. At first, the link sent to me was an error, it doesn't lead to the article. I was thinking, I hope it's fake news, because there's no article in the link. So I tried searching his name, and there it is. It's true. Miura is dead.

In high school, when everyone's into kpop and kdramas, I was into jpop and jdramas. I love Miura ever since I saw him on Gokusen. He was a huge part of my high school life. A high school friend's relative who went to Japan even bought a magazine with him as a feature in it and sold the pages with him in it to me. Internet's a luxury back then so I rent computer shops to watch videos of him on youtube.

Now, I'm into kdramas and kpop, but I still think of him, sometimes. I check up on him through social media and search his drama list and what's hes been up to. I read that he has a drama this August-September, and a movie next year. Death sometimes really comes in a flash, giving no regards to anyone.

You'll never really realize if someone's suffering or not, noh? Looking back, from all the youtube videos and fan videos of him that I watched, I never thought he was suffering. I never thought that that he was sad and depressed. I never thought that he'll be thirty when he takes his own life. He's a decorated actor, with a lot of award winning dramas and musicals under his belt, but we was actually suffering. Somehow, I feel guilty even though I'm a hundred miles away and he doesn't know I exist. I wished, somebody knew and helped him. But it was too late.

What happened really hit home. I am a big fan. Always will be. It really hurts. I'm really sorry.

Miura, you will always be in my heart. I will remember you forever. I'm sorry. I hope, wherever you are, you don't feel pain anymore. I hope you are already crossing the bridge to the afterlife and in the process of crossing that bridge, you'll forget all the bad memories you had in this life. I'm sorry we failed. I failed. I'm sorry. I love you. Please know that. I love you. Rest well. Good bye.

I wish the world was a little kinder.

[maybankiara]

NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN (I’LL CRAWL HOME TO HIM)

pairing: JJ Maybank x Pope Heyward

summary: JJ realises he’s immortal when he wakes up buried in a coffin. He’s got to make his way back to his friends - more than anyone else, back to Pope, whom he hasn’t admitted his feelings to. (Not like he admitted them to himself either, anyway).

w/c: 4.3k

a/n: gay angst with some immortality!! also, there’ll be no mention of claustrophobia, just jj trying to figure out how to get out. i have another mayward fic planned with immortal!jj but basically everything else is different. 

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JJ wakes up in a coffin. He comes to the realisation when he makes an attempt to turn around, thinking he’s in the bed of the spare room at the Chateau he’d long ago claimed his own, only for his shoulder to bump into something hard.

 ‘Ow!’

 The sound of him hitting the wood and it feeling oddly…contained, for the lack of a better word, summons a series of flashing images.

 A gun in his hands. Topper Thornton dangling by his ankle from a tree, screaming bloody murder. John B shouting JJ’s name. Pope crying it out in pain, Kelce’s hands on his neck.

 A gun in Rafe’s hands. White thunder.

 ‘Fuck,’ he whispers. And then— ‘Holy shit, I’m immortal!’

 Laughter that falls from his lips is maniacal. He thinks of all the pranks he could do now – if there’s no death to fear, there is nothing to fear. Even if he doesn’t know the limits, JJ can only think of the endless possibilities of what he could do – what do you do when you aren’t afraid of anything?

 JJ’s hand slams against the top of the coffin and he does it again, on the verge of crying from excitement. His breathing is rapid and so is his heartbeat.

 ‘Take that, Rafe! Whoo!’

 He wants to tell the pogues. He wants to see the look on their faces—all the questions they’ll have—and he wants to see who’s missed him out of others, if anyone has. He has to ask Pope about the implications of his immortality and how it works – if his memory hadn’t suffered up when Rafe blew his head up and it still serves him right, Rafe did blow his head up. It was probably a closed casket.

 Huh.

 JJ’s fingers hesitate for a long second before touching his chin, half-expecting to find nothing but a mesh of whatever his body was made of. But they’re met with a firm, hard jawline, skin connecting it to his neck, and his lips, and keeping his blood and whatever—Pope would know better—where it’s supposed to be, inside.

 The blond lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. It comes out in the form of a chuckle, airy and free.

 Pope would find this the most interesting. Does JJ have scars? He’d know how his body managed to heal, how his brain preserved.

 He begins to wonder about what effect this has on the rest of his life—afterlife?—when he hears a small voice, just like Pope’s.

 ‘Being buried alive is one of the worst ways to die,’ he told the pogues months ago, solving a past paper that someone who wants to be a coronary would take. ‘You’ve got five and a half hours’ worth of air, tops. You’ll suffocate before someone finds you, if they ever do, anyway. It’s not all bad, because the carbon dioxide you produce breathing eventually overtakes most of the air inside the coffin, and you fall into a coma. You die and you feel lightheaded, like you’re falling asleep.’

 You die like you’re falling asleep.

 JJ wonders if he’d wake up again. Probably. Does he have nine lives or an infinite number?

 He’d like to test that.

 But for now, if Pope’s right—and JJ is kind of hoping he isn’t—then he’s got about five hours to get to the surface. Even if he wakes up again, there’ll be no air for him to breathe, which essentially keeps him dead, until possibly thousands of years pass and someone accidentally opens his grave and he storms out like a zombie from another time like in that movie with—

 Focus.

 ‘Focus. Yeah, I gotta focus.’

 JJ nods to himself. He calms his breathing and starts to think about every possible way to get out of his situation. He’s not claustrophobic, which is surprising, but that might be because the fact that he vividly (kind of) remembers being shot in the head is kind of more dramatic than waking up in a casket six feet under.

 Four feet, he remembers – the earth on the Cut where they made the graveyard isn’t good for digging, or anything, really, so the graves are usually shallower than the standard six feet.

 He should be able to push through it – right?

 Right?

 JJ’s died and come back to life. If he can do that, then he can make his way out of here.

 For the next however long, JJ tries to remember every piece of information that would help. He knows from John B and when they worked at a construction site for some quick cash that when he opens the casket, all the dirt will fall into the hole he just made and fill it out.

 He knows from surfing that aerodynamic works best the flatter the object is, so if it applies to water, it probably applies to earth, too. When he opens the casket, he needs to shoot upright as straight as possible—doing something straight will be the biggest challenge, really—and let the dirt fall over him.

 It’s a game of seconds. He’s really got one shot at this.

 ‘If there’s a massive fuckin’ hole in the middle of a graveyard, someone will notice, right,’ he mutters to himself.

 It’s fine. It’s something.

 JJ presses his palms flat against the massive wood over him. The material is hard and stiff, but when he bangs against it, it moves a little. Enough for a few bits of the earth to fall in, on his chest.

 (Or so he thinks. It’s not like he can see.)

 He figures that his best bet is pushing it open like a door, then squeezing immediately as he keeps pushing it. The gravity of the earth falling should hurt him—he knows this isn’t going to be easy, or nice, or pleasant—but he should push through if he does the Superman pose, with his hand in the air.

 The thought makes him chuckle, and as his lips stretch, he tastes sweat in the corners. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and it leaves a wet mark, so he wipes that on his shorts.

 JJ sighs. ‘They buried me with the fuckin’ cargo shorts.’

 He hadn’t given much thought to how he’d be buried, but now he reckons his hair is a mess, his shirt is a basketball-style, holes big enough so that the sweat from his armpits soaks into whatever carpet they put at the bottom of the coffin.

 JJ stinks – like, badly. He remembers Pope said that corpses shit and pee themselves and fart and whatnot, but has no clue if he acted like a real corpse. Was he dead dead, or just kind-of comatose without a heartbeat?

 Shit, what if he’s been dead for a while? If his dead had been blown off then it must’ve taken ages to reconstruct.

 What if he comes back and the pogues have moved on, they have families and kids, and Pope’s gone off to university and—

 ‘Shut up,’ JJ whispers to himself. This pitch-black darkness is making him see things, and feel things he doesn’t want to.

 He’ll deal with that later. The only thing that matters right now is getting the fuck out of here.

 JJ doesn’t let his hand shake when he applies pressure to the wooden board above him. He does it slowly, and when it doesn’t budge, he knows slowly isn’t the way to do it.

 So JJ just thinks of Pope, John B, and Kie, and their faces on the HMS Pogue, and slams through the coffin. He slithers through the whole immediately, eyes and mouth closed and the same hand that opened the coffin is outstretched, high above his head, and he’s pushing with his legs instead of his back.

 He was right – the earth is heavy. He feels it crumbling around his chest, around his feet, around every inch of space he’s just created, but he keeps pushing.

 If he doesn’t push, he’ll stay like this—half buried—forever.

 The tip of his finger touches the air – then another, then all five. The fact that he’s so close gives him a surge of adrenaline, coursing through his veins, and he pushes through the weight of the earth even further, until his entire hand is above the ground.

 fuck yeah.

 Then an elbow. Then he slides his other hand across his torso, feeling the weight tug at the bones until the pain is so intense he thinks he might’ve broken it. His chest tightens—it’s been almost a minute—but he manages to get the other hand out, too.

 Just a little more.

 One more push.

 that’s what she said, he thinks.

 And pushes.

 Being out of the coffin after spending it in about an hour or so is like jumping from a tall cliff – thrilling, chill-inducing, and very much like breaking the water tension with your back instead of the head.

 He gasps like a fish out of water, still trapped from shoulders and below, but he breathes.

 JJ laughs, and then realises he’s also being soaked because it’s raining harder then he can remember, and figures it’s okay to open his eyes. It hurts, at first glance – the sky is shrouded in dark grey clouds and rain is absolutely pouring, but he sees that it’s day, not night, and he sees that the trees still look like late summer.

 ‘FUCK YEAH!’

 Thrilled to be alive, JJ lets himself have a moment to breathe. He sees he’s buried in one of the cheapest parts of the graveyard—which says much considering his dad must’ve been the one who paid for the funeral—and most of the other graves look terrible. He turns his head to the side, just enough to look at his own.

 J. MAYBANK. 2003 – 2020. BELOVED SON AND FRIEND.

 ‘Sons of bitches,’ he mutters. ‘It’s like it would’ve killed them to be fuckin’ creative for once.’

 His arms ache and his legs feel like they’re about to give in, but he’s got to get out. With a deep breath, he buries—ha!—his fingers as firmly into the ground as far as he can, and then tugs.

 He’s out a minute later, but he’s damn glad no one was around to hear him grunting like a little pussy.

 JJ shakes his limbs, getting some blood through them. He looks disgusting – dirt mixed with sweat means that it’s all sticking to him, and he doesn’t even want to know what his face must look like – even if it isn’t absolutely mangled. His hair is terrible probably, too, because the strands that aren’t sticking to his face seem mucky when he tries running his finger through it.

 i thought they made dead men look pretty.

 Then he tells himself not even dying and crawling out of a grave could make him look any less pretty, so he’s okay.

 ‘Ha,’ he muses to himself, ‘my pretty goes beyond the grave.’

 About ten minutes later, when his muscles feel as alive as he does, he begins his twenty-minute trek to the Chateau. He figures it’s his best bet – it’s next to the marsh, which isn’t too far from the graveyard, and JJ’s not going to get anywhere near the road if he’s taking the fastest route.

 So, looking like a dead man walking, he sets off for the Chateau.

 By the time he’s arrived, some of the dirt has washed off—he conveniently stood under a tree that was basically leaking water—and he guessed he didn’t look a lot different than anyone walking around under this kind of weather. There were no puddles for him to look at himself at, which was quite a shame, but he figured he’d just check himself out at a mirror in the Chateau.

 Now, JJ is just… He’s just standing in front of the backdoor to the place. The marsh is behind him and the house in the front, and this should be simple, except he’s got no clue what’s about to happen. Lights are on in the living room, that much he could see from the outside, but there was no guarantee it would be his friends.

 Panic started to eat him inside out – what if he walks in, unannounced, and it turns out he’s been dead for years and some completely random people live here, instead?

 Before he manages to chicken out, he opens the door. The door creaks—that’s a good sing, thinks JJ, John B was going to have it fixed by the end of the year—and promptly closes behind him. Old reggae coming from the living room is the only sound aside from water dripping off of JJ.

 fuck it.

 JJ makes his way to the living room. A lightning strikes somewhere nearby and, just as he rounds the corner, thunder follows.

 His friends are sitting on the floor, in the middle of the room.

 JJ grins. ‘Tell me, do I make Freddy Krueger look pretty?’

 In that very moment, three things happen. John B screams. Kiara knocks over the speaker. Pope faints.

 And as for thing four, that happens a moment later, JJ just sighs. ‘That bad, huh?’

—

‘…and that’s how I ended up here.’

 About two hours later, JJ’s finally finished his story. It took them quarter of an hour just to stop freaking out—Pope had been convinced he’d seen a ghost until Kiara and John B managed to explain to him he hadn’t—and even then, they weren’t ready to hear the story.

 They made him take a shower, first. Fair enough.

 John B went with him to get some towels and clean clothes, and Kiara stayed in the living room, getting Pope some water. Nobody spoke for a very, very long time.

 When JJ looked at himself in the mirror, he was both distraught and amazed. There was a scar running from cheek to cheek, over his nose, and well underneath his jaw, with skin inside this circle looking like it had been slightly burned years ago, with colour different to the rest of his face. JJ ran a finger over it – the texture was rough in some places, smoother in others.

 Somehow, he was convinced the scars would persist, but his skin would heal. He felt it in his bones – it rang as true as the fact that his heart was about to burst through his ribcage the moment he’d locked eyes with Pope.

 JJ took a shower, cleaned himself up. The clothes John B had brought him were his own, and he smelt them for a second – it felt like coming home.

 The Chateau had always been his home.

 When he returned to the living room, Pope looked a little better – they all did. JJ reassured them that he had, in fact, died and been buried. Pope went on to state in graphic detail how mangled his body—head more so than other parts—had been when they’d last seen him.

 JJ forgot Rafe had killed him in front of them.

 ‘Y’all must be scarred for life,’ he said as he took a seat on the floor of John B’s living room, and then grinned. ‘But not on the outside, like me.’

 They didn’t find it as funny as he did.

 So, with the aid of some water and pizza they had leftover from earlier, JJ told his story. There were a lot of interruptions—not as many from Pope as he would’ve thought, considering dead people are his expertise—but he managed to get it done.

 And now, he grins at them, arms spread over the couch behind him. ‘So, y’all impressed already?’

 The silence is pregnant. Kiara’s hands are folded in her lap as she leans her back against the couch, and John B mirrors her position, only on the wall. Pope, unlike the other three, is standing with his side against the doorway, biting his nails. (JJ is pretty convinced that’s a habit he picked up from him.)

 Kiara clears her throat. ‘JJ, you were gone for two months.’

 ‘What? No way, that’s— That’s impossible, Kie. It was just yesterday—’

 ‘We buried you,’ says John B, voice hoarse. ‘Mourned you. Had to learn how to live without you.’

  ‘But I’m back now! That’s great news, right?’

 ‘JJ, we’re fuckin’ happy you’re back.’ John B leans forward and pats him on the back, squeezing his shoulder. His smile is grim, but it’s there. ‘It’s just a little unbelievable. We watched you die. It’ll— It’ll take us some… time.’

 At the doorway, Pope is still staring at JJ as if he’ll disappear at any given moment.

 JJ’s neck stiffens, and he’s sure John B feels it, because his hand falls limp to the side. The blond mumbles something, incoherently enough that not even he knows what he said, then shakes his head. ‘I should probably get some rest.’ His eyes fall to his lap. ‘Apparently two months wasn’t enough.’

 His words seem to cut through the atmosphere in a way that alienates him from the rest of them – the uninterruptedly living.

 Nobody says anything, but JJ still rises to his feet. His hands pat his shirt and his shorts, as if they could do anything to smooth the creases. He glances at John B, whose eyes are fixed on him. ‘My room still empty?’

 ‘Nobody’s touched it since you…’ The brunet shakes his head, as if a thought needed to get out. ‘Might be a little dusty.’

 ‘You want me to fetch you anything?’ asks Kiara, voice wavering. ‘I can go to the Wreck—’

 ‘I’m good. Thanks.’

 JJ doesn’t linger around to see their reactions – if there are any, anyway. Last thing he sees is Pope, still leaning against that door frame, unmoving and stoic as ever.

 Like John B said, the bed needed to be dusted. JJ was done with that in a couple of minutes, and then he stripped into his underwear (what a waste of fresh clothing) and slipped under the covers.

 The weight of these past few hours crushed on him like a raging storm. It doesn’t matter that he crawled out of his grave to join them – they had two months to figure out a way to live without him. Two months is more than enough to move on, to accept the new reality.

 He knows because he’s been through it.

 Outside, the storm rages on, too. JJ thinks of John B, a little calmer and quieter now; Kiara, distant like she seemed at the beginning of her kook year; and Pope.

 Pope, who wouldn’t look him in the eye for longer than a second. Pope, who always had a smartass comment to chime in with, now pushing himself to the side and not participating.

 JJ sighs. His chest is heavy and his face is stinging a little, but the realisation is heavier than any physical pain – his friends managed to move on from him. Couple of hours for JJ meant a couple of months for the pogues. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe he gets to leave, now, when everybody thinks he’s dead.

 Some time later, JJ lies awake, still. The storm has dwindled to mere tapping on the window, but his mood hasn’t changed.

 Another kind of tapping him reaches him – full, against the wooden door separating him from the rest of his life.

 JJ gets out of his bed with a tired sway to his hips, legs dragging along the floor. He rubs his eyes before he opens the door and when he does, he leans against the door frame, blinking against the sudden light.

 ‘Hey,’ greets Pope.

 ‘Hey.’

 There’s hesitation reeking off the boy in front of him. His shoulders are slumped and JJ feels like he’s his height, even though Pope has always been taller.

 The blond scratched the itch underneath the left side of his jaw. ‘You want to come in?’

 Pope nods. JJ moves to the side and closes the door once they’re both in.

 Out of habit, JJ plops down onto the bed, face-first. He doesn’t even notice Pope hasn’t done the same until he shifts a little and realises there’s a silhouette positioned against the window, blocking the moonlight from entering the room.

 JJ drags himself to the edge of the bed, feet bare on the floor. His elbows are draped over his knees and he sees Pope a little better now – hands in his pockets and a frown on his face, lower lip with a quiver to it.

 ‘What’s up?’

 ‘You’re really here, right?’ Pope doesn’t miss a beat. ‘Alive?’

 JJ chuckles, but there isn’t much humour to it. ‘As far as I can tell.’

 ‘But we watched you die.’

 ‘I know. I can remember all of that.’

 ‘You shouldn’t be here. Alive.’

 ‘I know,’ JJ says. ‘But I am. What are you going to do about it?’

 The hesitation that comes off of Pope is different this time. It’s fleeting—ephemeral—and JJ only gets a moment’s worth of looking into his eyes when there’s hands on his cheeks, and warm lips smashing against his own.

 All he hears is the rain tapping on the window, or the beating of his own heart. The warmth of Pope’s lips on his, or the cold of the storm.

 The touch disappears, and JJ thinks he’s about to wake up in hell, and this was just a way to torture him – to give him something he’s yearned for and take it away like it was nothing.

 open your eyes, boy. we ain’t finished.

 His dad’s voice is like electricity and JJ opens his eyes, terrified.

 Except it’s just Pope staring at him, looking just as distraught as he feels. JJ isn’t in hell. He’s in John B’s room, and while it might stink like hell, it isn’t it.

 The storm is still quiet and gentle, but JJ doesn’t even notice it so much. Not after—

 ‘I thought I’d missed my chance,’ Pope says, weakly. ‘I just needed— I couldn’t—’

 JJ shifts the weight to his feet and his hands find Pope’s neck like they belong there (because they do). He holds him—gentle, cautious, fragile—and shakes his head, at loss for words.

 He wants to say ‘me too, Pope,’ except it’s not good enough. Except it doesn’t encapsulate what it feels like to die thinking the man you love never loves you back, or at least you’ll never find out, only to wake up, alive, and find out that your feelings have been reciprocated all along.

 To crawl out of a grave for him.

 JJ kisses him with the very same ferocity, with more hunger to it. JJ’s felt death—he’s felt the unknowable—and he won’t let another moment pass without doing the things he’d been afraid to do.

 By the time they part, both boys are catching their breath, not even an inch apart. JJ’s hands are firm on Pope’s neck, thumbs tracing the lines of his jaw, while Pope’s hands grip the blond’s shirt at his sides.

 JJ wants to say something, anything.

 Pope is faster. ‘I thought I’d never get to do this.’

 All JJ can do is nod; no words could ever be enough.

 The shaky breath that falls from Pope’s lips only moments later is different from the boy who was leaning against the door frame earlier – more like the Pope JJ knew.

 fell in love with.

 It’s a little bit cynical, and a little bit guarded, but nevertheless free and innocent like JJ always knew him to be. But he takes creates some distance between the two, and JJ’s hands drop to his sides.

 Pope’s smile isn’t what JJ thought it would be. It doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘You’re leaving.’

 He should’ve known Pope would realise it. He just wondered what gave him away. ‘I don’t know.’

 ‘Don’t lie to me, JJ. Not after we just—’ Pope cuts himself off. He clears his throat, resting the back of his head against the window.

 Breathless, JJ sits down on the bed, same position as earlier – as if his entire life hadn’t just been rocked from one side to the other. ‘I’m dead, Pope. You buried me. That’s what John B said. I get to— I get to do whatever I want. Go whatever I want. I’m… I’m free, Pope.’

 The moon peeks through the clouds, bright enough to bask Pope’s silhouette in silver. JJ thinks of how much the boy resembles an angel – how he felt like one when he’d kissed him, granting him a wish he’d never dared to voice.

 ‘You could stay,’ suggests a small voice. ‘Be our own little ghost.’

 JJ lets out a full laugh. ‘Is that what I am now?’

 Pope’s smile becomes a little clearer as the moon gets back behind the clouds, and JJ wishes he could see his eyes clearly, too. ‘I can’t lose you again.’

 He knows he should leave. They both know, Pope more so than anyone. JJ’s dead—legally—meaning that he can’t be seen around town without raising more than a couple of eyebrows. He can’t live on his own. He can’t—

 He’s free from his dad, from obligations, but if he stays, he becomes enslaved to his own death.

 But if he stays…

 i lost you once already, pope. i can’t do it again, either.

 He sighs and, unaware JJ’s already made his choice, Pope drops on the bed next to him, hand holding the blond’s. ‘Just for a year. Not even that long. Then I’ll be off to university, where no one knows any of us, and— And we can get a fresh start. Together.’

 Careful, JJ cups the boy’s cheek. He can see his eyes now, as the moon shines on them like no other person has been worthy of its light – they’re not sad, or hopeful, but they are fretting.

 JJ kisses his cheek, before turning his head slightly to place a chaste kiss on his lips.

 He could never think of giving up on this. Not when he’d died to get it.

 So he echoes, ‘Together.’

  ★

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