#''avoid secrecy and lies'' where do i even fucking begin with this one

[waitineedaname]

i was reading up on bpd and favorite person stuff for bingqiu reasons and wow it is wild how well their relationship fits into a bpd + fp relationship, and it's also wild that they are doing literally everything wrong about it <3

[mister-eames]

1/? I was thinking about the whole dreamshare business & how interesting it is cos while you have the likes of Arthur & Cobb who would consider themselves “gentlemen thieves” & believe in things like “honor amongst thieves” etc, obvs not everyone in the industry is gonna be like that. They’re criminals, after all, so you’re gonna have people with a complete lack of morals, people who are power hungry, or jealous of competition or who are simply willing to screw others over for the right price...

2/? So I was like: how do you even navigate an industry like that? ESP when you’re starting off. It's gotta be a whole lot of trial & error when it comes to finding out who's trustworthy, who you’d be willing to work with again & who you’re gonna avoid like the plague. & then I was like how fun would it be if when you didn't know your other teammates well you literally just went by your role. Noone would know the others' names; you'd literally just be The Extractor, The Chemist, The Architect 3/? And then i was thinking the dreamshare business is DEFINITELY a gossipy lot. Because there's gotta be so much secrecy, rumours have gotta run abound (especially if you start making a name for yourself...whether in a good capacity or a bad one.) And then I was like how do I make this about Arthur and Eames? Imagine before you met your Pointman for the first time all you know about them are these rumours you've heard: "A buzzkill," "part ninja", "quiet", "he's like medusa, one look and you're 5/5 walls the other has built around them and form their own opinions... Idk, i just love the idea of them being constantly surprised by one another. And also! Yes! I stan the idea of Arthur as having a great sense of humour too!

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Nonnie, my darling, it appears that tumblr ate the 4th part of your ask :( :( im so sorry about that, and just as I was getting so SO into it too, damn you tumblr!!! I think I can extrapolate a little where you were going with it though <3 --- I am OBSESSED with the idea of dreamsharers being a gossipy, busybody bunch - personal knowledge must be worth a lot, anything from someones real name down to their favourite colour or preferred detergent. And the rumours that must get born and mutated through the proverbial phone tree. Not just from other dreamsharers, but little white lies Arthur and Eames must have told about themselves a) to muddy the waters on any truth about them and b) to weed out who can and who can't be trusted with 'sensitive' information. And the idea that their love story is obtaining pieces and putting each other together like a jigsaw puzzle is beautiful, never having the most complete picture, but delighted by every piece they find.

Also "like Medusa" lmaoooo oh my god I want a fic of Arthurian tall tales

Arthurs having a great sense of humour, no matter how it's written, is my favourite thing. I mean, in canon we only ever get to see him 'at work', right, where it's his job to sort of curate the fun and dose out the reality checks, but even then we sort of see a couple of cracks - the most notable being 'worth a shot' aha. And outside of work? Arthur is a fucking hoot. Under that serious facade is a playful man with a face made for smiling, for silliness. It's what makes him balanced, as a character and I cannot be paid any sum to be convinced otherwise. I think one of my fave illustrations of this, of many, is HGTV verse where Eames legitimately finds Arthur breathtakingly hilarious and no one else in their work life 'gets' why. That's how I think of Arthur and Eames in canon - as having a language of inside jokes and wry, odd, weirdo sense of humour that you have to untangle and decode to begin to 'get', as with any good relationship and/or friendship. "Merry chase" is an old joke, the words so specific I can't help but believe they're born of history and hilarity, recycled between them so often throughout the years it still makes them grin.

[lilliagradiewrites]

surprise? (jj maybank)

Summary: You’re John B’s sister, and you’ve been dating JJ in secret for months. What happens when John B sees a hickey on your neck, and realizes his best friend has been making on his little sister?

WC: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Hickey/ mentions of sexy time, cursing, mentions of violence

A/N: Another JJ one shot! This one has been sitting half-finished in my collection for a while now, so tonight I decided to complete it! I’m such a sucker for a brother’s best friend moment, so I knew I had to write a JJ x Routledge! reader fic. i hope you all like it!

PS: Thank you so much for all the love on evermore, my last fic!! It was so well received, and has gotten more recognition than anything else I've ever uploaded. I’m so thankful!!

I love you all so so much, and I hope you enjoy!!

LET’S DO IT!

~~~~~~

Neither you nor JJ could pinpoint the exact moment it began.

Being John B’s younger sister, you had known the blonde boy for basically your entire life. In seventh grade, you had developed a slight crush on JJ. He was the older, popular boy that cracked funny jokes; how could you not like him? You had always thought he was cute, but you started seeing him in a different light around the age of twelve.

The crush quickly faded away, and you found yourself with many boyfriends and flings over the years. Looking back on it now, you don’t think your feelings JJ ever truly went away… you had just forced yourself to forget them.

For JJ, the feelings developed around his sophomore year, when you were a freshman. For the vast majority of his life, he’d seen you every day when he inevitably made his way to the chateau. He’d cared about you, of course, but no more than a ‘I care about her because she’s my best friends little sister’ kind of way.

He has a vivid memory of you, the morning after he’d had a sleepover with your brother. He was sitting on the couch with John B, having a conversation about some stupid guy thing he couldn’t even recall now. He remembers seeing you walk out of your room, having just woken up, wearing an oversized t-shirt. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you didn’t have on any makeup.

He couldn’t explain why, but you looked so damn beautiful to him that day. You never noticed him staring at you, but John B did. JJ remembers his friend’s brows furrowing.

“What the hell are you staring at?” After following JJ’s gaze, his eyes widened. “Are you looking at my sister, man? Cut that shit out.”

“No, of course I wasn’t. I was looking out the window. Chill, bro.” JJ had quickly denied the claims of his friend, who didn’t entirely believe him but chose not to say anything else on the topic. After that day, JJ tried his best to avoid staring at you, but it was always hard for him.

Within a month after that incident, you began hanging out with the Pogues more and more. They quickly became your best friends, and you loved them all more than anything. They all helped you and John B through the disappearance of your father, and you were eternally grateful.

Naturally, you found yourself growing the closest with Kie. Being the only two girls, it made the most sense for the two of you to be very close. Kiara was like a sister and a best friend all in one, and you loved her very much.

Pope was always great. He kept you and the rest of the pogues in check, making sure you remained safe and made smart decisions. John B, of course, was your older brother, and you were very close with him. You had your frustrations with the brunette, however. One thing that always pissed you off about John B was how insanely protective he was. He would threaten any guy whose eyes lingered too long on you at a party, and it took years of convincing to allow him to let you go on a date. You loved him, of course, and knew he was always trying to keep you safe, but you couldn’t help but be frustrated with him sometimes.

And then there was JJ. You didn’t even know what to think when it comes to the blonde boy. You had always noticed something special about him, and felt slightly different towards JJ then all the other boys. For some reason, the both of you kept your distance from each other. Maybe, you both knew in the back of your mind that if you got too close, there’d be no pulling you apart.

One night at a party, you had gotten absolutely wasted. Kiara had gone home with some girl, Pope’s dad didn’t let him come, and John B was nowhere in sight, meaning it was up to JJ to take care of you. He brought you home, cleaned you up, and put you into bed. In your intoxicated state, you let your walls fall down. You told Jj how you felt about him, too drunk to worry about the consequences.

Fortunately for you, the feelings were reciprocated. JJ said that he felt the same way, and he’d been keeping his distance from you because of strict commands from John B. “Anytime I’d get close to you, or even be ‘too friendly’ towards you, I’d get the whole ‘my sister is off limits’ lecture, I was tired of hearing it, and I didn’t think you felt the same anyways.”

That night was the beginning of a long journey. He kissed you, and you were happier than you’d ever been. He ask you to be his girlfriend, and you happily said yes. There was only one issue with the whole situation.

Your stupid, overdramatic, overprotective brother.

“Maybe we shouldn’t tell him for a while?” Jj suggested after much contemplation on both of your parts. “See where this goes. If it gets super serious, we’ll obviously tell him, but it’s probably best to keep it on the down low for now.”

Though hesitant, you eventually agreed, deciding it was the best decision for now. You hated lying to your brother, but it’s not like you had any other choice.

Six months passed after that night. You and JJ’s relationship grew stronger and more serious with each passing day, but neither of you had the guts to tell your brother. So, you kept dating in secret, the relationship only between the two of you.

Oh, right. And Kie.

JJ had gotten into a habit of sneaking into your bedroom window late at night. He rarely got any time with just the two of you, and even when you hung out with your friends, he wasn’t able to be as affectionate as he wished he could be. One morning, Kiara arrived at the chateau earlier than usual, bursting into your room to find you asleep, wrapped in your boyfriend's arms.

The brunette woke the two of you up with a loud exclamation of “What the fuck?”

JJ kissed you goodbye and scrambled out the window before John B heard anything, and you sat Kie down and explained the whole situation, making her promise not to tell anyone.

Especially not John B.

Kiara, being the amazing person she is, swore secrecy and squealed about how happy she was for the two of you.

Kie’s knowledge of the relationship is part of the reason she insists on waking you up one morning at the chateau. She and Pope had stayed the night, as well as JJ. JJ was nowhere to be found, but the group just assumed that he had run home to grab spare clothes or something.

Well, the boys assumed that.

Kie knew better.

Her suspicions were completely confirmed when she entered your room to find you and JJ cuddled together, just like all those months ago when she had first found out.

“Wake up, guys! JB and Pope are awake. JJ, hop out the window and pretend you went to get clothes from your house. You don’t have a lot of time.”

Immediately, you and your boyfriend were launching up out of the bed. He followed his usual routine of kissing you goodbye and then jumping out of the window. You thanked Kie before beginning to search for your swimsuit.

“You’re welcome, babes. And by the way, I’d make sure to cover up that fatass hickey on your neck before walking out of this room.”

Kie gives you a wink before walking out of the room and closing the door, leaving you there with red cheeks and wide eyes.

You moved immediately to your mirror, and examined the left side of your neck. Sure enough, there it was: a large bruise that JJ had taken his sweet time on the night before. You huffed, recalling when he was giving it to you.

“JJ, don’t.” You breathed, lightly pushing him off you. “You can’t leave marks, everyone will see.”

“Let them see.” He lifted his lips off your neck to look you in the eyes. “I’m tired of hiding that you’re mine. I want everyone to know that you’re taken, by me. Let them see, babe, I don’t care.”

For a moment, he had you agreeing with him. Who cares if everyone finds out? They’d just find out eventually anyways. What’s the difference if they find out sooner rather than later?

But, you eventually cam to your senses. “I’m tired of hiding too, J. We’ll tell them soon, but I don’t want my brother to find out I’m with his best friend by seeing the hickey his best friend gave me.”

JJ paused his movements for the second time, breathing and thinking for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you're right.” He bites your earlobe, then leans in to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll make it small. I still want my mark on you.”

Clearly, JJ had lied. The bruise on your neck was absolutely massive, and you’d have your work cut out for you when it came to covering it up. Sighing, you reached for your makeup bag, pulling out some color corrector and concealer.

A good thirty minutes later, the bruise was covered enough to go unnoticed, and you were outside on the dock, dressed in a pink swimsuit and a pair of shorts. John B and Pope were on the boat, preparing it for you day on the water. Kie was inside shoving snacks, water bottles, and beer into a small cooler. JJ, who had just finished rolling a few blunts, came walking out of the house. You heard him approaching behind you, and whipped around to face him.

“I have a bone to pick with you, Maybank.” You glared, crossing your arms over your chest. Your boyfriend looked nervous, his smiling face immediately shifting to a concerned one.

“What’s wrong, babe?” He said quietly, making sure that the other pogues were out of earshot before using the nickname. JJ knew you well, and any term of endearment made you melt for him. He always used them, but was particularly heavy on the nicknames when you were upset with him.

“Last night, I told you not to leave marks. But you insisted, and you told me you’d leave a small one.”

“Yes, that happened. So why are you upset with me?”

“Because the hickey I woke up to this morning was anything but small. It took me twenty minutes and half my concealer to cover that shit up! Are you fucking crazy? Are you trying to get us caught?”

JJ moved towards you, probably to take you in his arms, but caught himself just before he did it, glancing up at the boys on the boat.

“I’m sorry, love. I couldn’t help myself. You look so fucking hot with my marks on your neck. It’s too hard to resist. Believe me, I tried.”

“Then try fucking harder, Maybank! Do I need to remind you that your ass is on the line here, way more than mine? Birdie’s not gonna beat my ass if he finds a hickey on my neck, he’s gonna beat yours! And then I get to have a screaming match with my brother after patching you up in the bathroom. I don’t know about you, but that is not the way I want anybody to find out about our relationship.”

JJ opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again with a sigh. He knew you were right.

“You’re right, baby. I’m sorry. I need to gain better self control. It won’t happen again, I’ll listen to you next time. I’m sorry angel, really. Forgive me?”

He was giving you those puppy dog eyes that he knew you couldn’t resist. After a moment of staring into them, you finally gave in. “yes, bebs, I forgive you. But don’t do that shit again, or so help me God…”

Your boyfriend broke out in an ear to ear grin. You could tell that he wanted nothing more than to kiss you and take you in his arms, but he obviously couldn’t. “Thank you! I love you, angel.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, allowing a smile to creep onto your face. “You’re lucky I love you, too. Now come on, I think they have the boat ready to go.”

------

A few hours later, everyone is lounging on the boat. You’d been out on the marsh for a good four hours, and the whole group was beginning to grow tired. The late afternoon sun bared down relentlessly on you, warming your skin and causing your body to overheat, despite the fact that you’d been swimming in the cool water for the past hour.

“God, it’s so damn hot out here. Can the sun chill the hell out for a second?” You complained, taking a swig of your beer.

The rest of the group murmured their agreement from various places on the boat. Absentmindedly, you gather your wet hair in your hand, holding it up on the back of your head to try and relieve the heat on your neck.

Big, big mistake.

Unknowingly, you’d exposed the massive hickey on the side of your neck for the entire boat to see.

The makeup you’d piled on that morning had apparently faded while you swam. Your hair covering it was the only thing keeping you from exposing yourself, and now it was revealed.

“What the HELL is that, Y/N?” Your brother was speaking, pointing at your now exposed hickey.

You looked immediately at JJ, whose eyes had gone wide and cheeks were pink.

“Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Birdie.” You replied quickly, not knowing what else to do.

“Is that a fucking hickey?” John B was walking towards you now, and your eyes were wide. You backed away from him, but you could only go so far on the small boat. He reached you eventually, pushing the hair from the side of your neck to reveal the bruise once again.

For a moment, your brother was silent. Strangely, this made you even more nervous then if he was screaming and shouting. You knew your brother well enough to know he was composing himself.

So that he wouldn’t strangle somebody.

“Who did it?” he said quietly. His voice was shaking with anger.

“Did what?” Your voice was shaking as well, but with fear for your boyfriend’s life instead.

“Who gave you the fucking hickey, Y/N! Stop playing dumb! Who did that to your neck.”

Panicking, you glanced over at JJ.

Yet another big, big mistake.

This glance was enough for John B to realize what the answer to his question was. You watched the pieces slowly connect in his mind, and then he was speaking again.

“It was YOU?” He rounded on the blonde boy near the edge of the boat. “You’re messing with my baby sister? Are you fucking kidding me, JJ?”

“Calm down, bird! It’s not what you think.” You were immediately at your brother’s side, trying to calm him down before your boyfriend’s body ended up at the bottom of marsh.

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Y/N! I think this is exactly what it looks like! It looks like this dickhead has a screwing around with my sister when I specifically told him not to!”

“We’re not just screwing around, John B!” JJ said in defense.

“Really? What the fuck else are you doing that would end with my baby sister having a hickey on her neck?”

“We’re dating!” You burst out. “We’ve been dating. For six months now.”

John B turned towards you immediately after your statement. He looked completely dumbfounded, as if he couldn’t possibly process the information he had just been given.

“Six months?” he echoed, and you nodded.

John B turned back to JJ.

“Surprise?” The blonde boy, hoping to lighten the mood.

Obviously, he was unsuccessful.

“You’ve been messing with my sister for SIX MONTHS, and I’m JUST NOW finding out? What the hell is wrong with you? I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

Before anyone could do anything to stop him, John B was lunging at JJ.

As if he’d been preparing to do so, JJ jumped off the side of the boat, landing cleanly in the water.

John B stood over the side of the boat screaming at him.

You mad eye contact with Kie,who was giggling slightly at the whole situation. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

This was going to be a long night.

~~~~~ A/N: Anddddd there’s the end! I really hope you guys liked this!

All notes and reblogs are highly appreciated!

ALSO: SEND REQUESTS!!

I love you guys so much,and Happy Holidays!!!!!

[amintyworld]

Sixteen - Dream SMP Drabble

A/N: Based off of @tittybitch’s headcannon on why both Tommy and Tubbo were child soldiers, with the new info Wilbur dropped a while ago on Tubbo and Tommy’s ages when he wrote about them for the Dream SMP - twenty. What if Tommy and Tubbo lied about their ages to Wilbur in order to become soldiers in the First Independence War?

TW: Major Character Death, murder, lying/breaking laws, drug mention, child soldiers, cursing. (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

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

When Tommy had fallen into the water, staining it crimson red with a large arrow in his chest, Tubbo had screamed, rushing over. The soldier fell to his knees as Tommy’s items simply began to float towards the surface.  Wilbur’s head bowed in respect at his right-hand man, his gaze lingering toward the floor a bit longer than normal. Tommy was a good man, he’d made his choice, this choice, in order to save their nation and he stood by it. That was something even the L’manburg General could admit was admirable. Dream walked up to him.

“So you will disband L’manburg, and Tommy’s discs will be given to me?”

“That was the deal.” Wilbur breathed, putting a comforting hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, who hadn’t moved from his place on the ground, just staring at the mass of items and bloody water. “Alright men, let’s head out with our dignity and honor.”

“No…” Tubbo whispered to himself, his hands gripping the floor as he shook with pure emotion. “No! You don’t get to just brush past this! Dream killed Tommy, he killed him- and… and you’re just gonna give up?!”

“Tubbo, this duel was not our decision or our plan, you know that.”

“Our decision?!” Tubbo snapped, sitting up and getting in the face of his commanding officer. “Our DECISION?! He was sixteen, Wilbur! Sixteen!”

Wilbur’s eyes focused solely on Tubbo’s as he began to calm down, beginning to process what exactly his soldier had said. Sixteen. Tommy Innit, his right-hand man, a fellow soldier who amounted more than his fair share of injuries thus far, someone who just died for their country in a duel… was sixteen years old. A teenager. A kid. Anger boiled within his chest and stomach. “What?”

Tubbo’s eyes tried to avoid the General’s increasingly intense stare. “Oh, you… uh… I’m sorry, Wilbur - I didn’t mean to just go off like that, you know sometimes I just say stuff that just comes off the top of my head, it’s… it’s uh… crazy-!”

“Tubbo, I’m going to ask this once and only once, so listen to me very closely…” Wilbur rested his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, using the other to tilt his chin up to look at him. Tubbo gulped as he could feel his heart drop looking at how angry Wilbur was becoming. “How old is Tommy Innit?”

Tommy swore Tubbo to secrecy, he made him promise to never, ever, ever tell a soul how old they really were, not even through torture or death. Tommy told him that they’d be ruined if they told anyone their real ages, never taken seriously, and constantly looked down upon. Dream already thought of them as less than him, being children… teenagers, would only make it worse. They were so much more than just teenagers, and they were both so determined to prove how capable they were, how much they could do.

But now Tommy was dead, he saw his best friend die before his eyes and it all became too real. There was so much more they both wanted to do...they were only sixteen, he was only sixteen. This stupid lie that Tommy convinced him was better to tell than the truth could end up costing them their lives. Though it was selfish and cowardly, Tubbo didn’t want to die, he didn’t want Tommy to die. Not yet. Not now.

“Soldier, answer me.”

Tubbo’s throat turned dry as he took a deep breath, the words ‘Not yet’ echoing in his head. “Sixteen.”

Wilbur kneeled down to be more level with the fellow soldier, moving to gently grab both of his arms, his face looking more sympathetic, pitiful. “Yeah? And… and what about you, soldier?”

“I’m sixteen years old, sir.”

Wilbur nodded to himself, still trying to wrap his head around this fact when Fundy piped up from the corner. “Dad, Tommy’s respawned.” Anger and sadness fought in a tangled mess in Wilbur’s stomach as he stood once more. 

“Right, men. Let’s go pay a visit to our fallen brother in arms. I have a feeling he’ll need it. Move out.” Fundy walked off quickly with Tubbo trailing behind him, his gaze focused on the ground, both of them silent. Dream and his posse were mostly gone already, not bothering to witness the fallout except for Sapnap and Eret. 

Eret’s crown weighed heavy on his head - he betrayed two teenagers, as well as a son and a father to earn this, to earn his crown and his place on the throne. They were kids, they were a family. “Look, Wilbur I-”

“Tommy’s dead, Eret. It’s over, you won. Congrats.” Wilbur crossed his arms over his chest as he stared at Eret intensely. “Look, no matter what happened today, no matter who won what - if I see you within five feet of Fundy, Tubbo, or Tommy, you’ll fucking regret it. I think they’ve suffered enough because of you.” 

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

When Tommy opened his eyes and the soreness and tiredness took over him, a feeling that he remembered vividly, all he wanted was to curl in on himself and cry. He was ashamed of himself, of that stupid stupid duel - now L’manburg would never get their freedom, and it was all his fault. All because he couldn’t land one arrow. Trying to distract himself from the guilt that weighed on his heart, he moved, wincing at the small pricks of pain spread throughout his body, and opened up the chest near his bed, grabbing some bandages and health potions to help heal him and numb some of the pain. 

With a heavy heart, he hesitated for a moment, taking off his L’manburg coat, knowing it would probably be the last time he’d do so. He ran his hands over the stitching to try and commit it all to memory, in some weird effort to not let L’manburg die. He fought so hard to protect it, yet he killed it with his own hands. He let out a defeated sigh, piling the coat and his hat on top of his chest, moving to take care of the nasty scarring around his chest where Dream had shot him.

He didn’t expect anyone to visit him, let alone Wilbur. The General entered with his hands behind his back, deep in thought, thinking behind his eyes. Tubbo rushed over, nearly crashing into him. “Tommy!”

“Woah, Woah, Woah big man.” Tommy smiled at the sight of his friend, wrapping an arm around him a bit of an embrace. “Thanks for the worry, but I’m still sore-”

“Oh, right, right - sorry.” Tubbo sheepishly added, pulling away from the tight hug he had around his best friend’s middle, moving to sit beside him. 

“I...uhm… didn’t expect all of you to be here.”

Fundy walked over, a cloth and a gleaming bottle in his hand. “Here, I just brewed from regen if you need it, it’ll be a lot better than those health pots. A hit like that’ll need lots of healing, that’s for sure.” Tommy’s eyes furrowed at the weird sadness Fundy’s face held, how he seemed like he was forcing a smile. It was weird to see someone act tense around him, and Wilbur’s silence definitely was NOT helping.

“Uh… thanks, Fundy.”

“I’m just glad you’re alright - With your injuries, we weren’t sure you were going to respawn.”

Tommy smirked, moving to take the potion and cloth from the fox hybrid, popping the cork off. “Please, nothing that green bastard could do could ever keep me down.” He took a sip of the potion, the dull and numb sensation traveling throughout his body and slowly melting away any lingering pricks of pain. Laughter echoed from both Tubbo and Fundy, enjoying the slight sense of normalcy. 

“Tommy?” Wilbur walked toward the three who sat around or on the bed, his eyes flicking back and forth, looking like he wanted to say something but he didn’t know what to say.

“Sir?” Tommy looked up at the General, sitting up straight almost on instinct at this point. Tommy had never seen Wilbur like this in his entire life, never seen his General this conflicted, this unsure of something. “...Wilbur?”

“I…” Wilbur swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath. “I know, Tommy.” Tommy’s eyes narrowed. “I know what you and Tubbo hid from me, I know you’re not twenty.” Tommy’s eyes flicked over toward Tubbo, who wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“You don’t know shit.” Tommy spat. 

“Tommy, I told him.” Tubbo spilled out, clinging on to his best friend’s arm like it was a lifeline.

“Tubbo you promised, you looked me in the eyes and you promised me, you swore to me, not even with death-!”

“I thought...I don’t want you to die, Tommy!” Tubbo finally looked up toward his friend, and Tommy finally saw the distress in his eyes. “You have one life left. ONE. You’re my best friend, I…” Tubbo could see the hurt in Tommy’s eyes, and his gaze fell back on the bedsheets in shame. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Tommy took a deep breath, looking at his best friend, then turned toward Wilbur. “So, I guess all those ‘child’ jokes were true, innit?” He glared at the other two in the room. “Come on, out with it then. Tell me how reckless and immature I am. Tell me I never took any of this seriously, how I doomed and destroyed everything because I’m just a ‘stupid child’.” Tommy’s hands gripped into fists, getting up from the bed, angry at the silence. “Come on, just DO IT ALREADY!”

“You’re not a stupid child, Tommy.”

“Don’t you dare fucking pity me-”

“Pity you?! PITY YOU?!” Wilbur exclaimed. “Do you honestly think I would do that? Do you think after everything you’ve done, I pity you?”

“What?”

“Tommy, you’ve dedicated yourself to L’manburg, you put your life on the line for it and were willing to risk your discs for its freedom. That’s earned my respect, however old you are.” Wilbur looked between Tommy and Tubbo. “I wish you would’ve told me, I could’ve been able to protect you from all of this. You wouldn’t have had to fight this war, it’s not yours to fight. Not yet.”

“You know without me or Tubbo you wouldn’t have fared as well with Dream’s army. You needed help, we wanted to fight.” Tommy’s voice was no longer angry but tired. “I don’t regret it, Wilbur.”

“But you’re… you’re both kids, you’re...fuck, what have I done?!” Wilbur cursed under his breath. 

“What you had to.” Tubbo’s voice was soft in its reply. Silence passed through the room as Wilbur moved toward both of the teens, shaking his head.

“No, no no no, there was another way, you shouldn’t have- you both should have never had to go through any of this, never been on the battlefield or running for your life. You shouldn’t have had to make those calls, you should’ve just enjoyed being kids instead of getting dragged into my mess...my war. I put you through that - if it wasn’t torture enough to put my own son in that position…”

“If you know me at all, Wil, you know I wouldn’t just sit by and watch. L’manburg… this place… it’s so much more than just a place. You and I started our first drug trades here, you made me feel important, you made me feel a part of something, instead of some kind of prick that everyone just wants to go away. You’ve all had my back, you’re all my friends… this is my home.”

Tubbo sat up to stand beside Tommy with a small hopeful smile. “Our home.”

“Our home.” Tommy echoed. “We needed… no, we wanted to protect it, no matter what. So I don’t regret this at all, Wilbur. Even if we lost. I don’t regret a damn thing.” 

At that moment, no truer words had ever been spoken.

[belit0]

Okay hear me out something really really and really dark with indra 🤭 Like you “cheating on him” ( Reader didn’t probally just some weirdo mailman arriving at theyre mountain home asking for stuff and the reader lets him and somehow they make it into the bedroom?? 😭) and indra comes in and it just becomes really dark

"something really really and really dark with Indra..." 

My brain didn't need much more to create something completely bizarre and sickening.

TW: Non-con, kidnapping, blood, s3x with a dead man lmao.

The night was short, too short for your liking. You always get this feeling when Indra is absent when his presence is so far away he is not even perceptible in the scope of your reach.

If your man is with you, you know when the sun goes down the torture begins. Upon meeting him, you never expected such a handsome countenance could carry so much evil inside. And although he claims to want you, at this point you understand all he wants is absolute possession over you, he is not interested in pursuing your love or seeking your adoration.

But of course, whoever fell into the clutches of such a beast, and to make matters worse, voluntarily as you had done, had no way to escape. Who would dare to face the mighty Otsutsuki? He who would make people run in dismay at the mere sound of his name.

Trapped in the depths of an isolated forest, you had given up any hope of ever walking the earth freely years ago. There was no way to evade the surveillance of your partner, who was everywhere with the secrecy of a feline.

If you had the courage to try to run, to scream for help, what awaited on feeling his hands around your neck was even worse than death. He always got what he desired, and the only thing he had craved was you.

It took several frustrating attempts to free yourself that led you to be brutally clamored by him on the forest floor, while his grip left bruises on any part that had contact with your skin. The scene ended grotesquely, as he carried you back home as if nothing had happened. Your bloody form, with clothes torn off and a few bones, were broken by Indra's violence, lay fainting on his arms, time after time.

Eventually, you understood that there would be no point with such an approach when in your last try it all got too much and he decided to break both of your wrists to make you stop resisting. The recovery was long, and when you were back to normal, you decided to succumb to being used every night rather than savaged that way.

But now, as you sat looking out the window, you thought to yourself. Indra had left on a trip weeks ago, and as usual, it was unclear where he was heading. Escaping would be imprudent, for perhaps it was all a test, a made-up situation to see how you would react to such a prolonged absence.

Forgetting the matter, you got up to the kitchen when a loud noise on the outside caught your attention. Resuming your previous position, you watched as a man with long black hair fell to his knees a few feet from the door, dropping to the ground and barely holding himself up with his hands.

There it is, Indra's damned testing.

Rushing away from the window and leaning your back against the wall, you gasped for breath, trying to calm yourself. As sorry as you were for that human being, you knew that your partner would appear at any second and cruelly end his life. He was simply trying to make you take a false step, tempting your big heart and your ample generosity.

Minutes that felt like an eternity passed, as the pleas for help grew lighter and lighter and the volume diminished.

No one was attacking.

The man continued to kneel, trying to reach the house.

Unable to endure, you decided to betray your preemptive alarms and ran out of the house. This person was severely wounded, unable to move or walk on his own. 

A sense of security assaulted you as you helped him in and laid him down on your bed, while you analyzed the wounds and the origin of the blood.

No one was attacking!

It was a tough job to put the man's battered body to rights, but after extensive treatment of his wounds, he was no longer in danger and regained his breath, still lying on Indra's pillow.

And with that, the man grabbed you by the nape of your neck and leaned you over him, causing the lips of the two of you to gently meet. It wasn't like Indra's touches, it wasn't possessive or unwanted, it was romantic, gentle, warm, and beautiful.

"You saved my life and I don't even know your name..."

"No need to exaggerate, gentleman. Had I left you there, you probably would have woken up after a good few minutes, I simply relieved the pain. As for my name... I regret to say that I cannot reveal it."

"A beautiful mystery... in that case, there's no need to know mine either."

The temperature rose, not taking long to exchange tongues, and avoiding to climb on top of him because of the state of his poor body, you lay down on your side of the bed, where Indra had taken you countless times.

Not wanting to let go, you simply let him handle the moment.

After a slight hesitation, he pulled away and looked into your eyes, asking permission to do it again. Licking your lips, it was you who initiated the action this time.

Hands danced everywhere, and clothes were lost with speed. He had you mount him, making it clear he could not exert himself too much due to lack of strength. Not wanting to argue against that logic, you sank on his erect length with a moan, while your eyes closed tightly.

You only opened them when you began to feel your orgasm approach, seeking eye contact for more pleasure. But you were disconcerted to see that his gaze was fixed on a corner of the room, to which your back was turned.

A pleased smile graced his features, not even paying attention to you.

"This way is fine, boss?"

Your blood froze in understanding.

Indra's test.

But what you didn't expect was for the man beneath you to suddenly become completely paralyzed, as a muffled THUD rang through the room and the hot liquid splashed your face and chest, as well as your arms.

Your eyes squeezed shut as a kunai was thrust into his forehead, killing him on the spot. A quick instinct assaulted your muscles as you tried to pull the slain man's limb out of you and run, getting away from your partner and trying to save yourself.

Now, this was the worst situation in the world.

There was no way you were going to pull through this.

But a huge, strong hand grabbed your hair as he noticed your intentions, pulling you down on the man's body and extracting the murder weapon with the other hand.

Tears began to stream down your cheeks as your hands closed over his wrist, futilely trying to make him let go of your hair.

"Unsightly..."

"Disgusting..."

"It only took you a second of my absence to jump on a bastard's cock. I knew you were an insufferable fucker from the way you cry and beg for my touches, but now I see it's your natural way of acting...you're just a whore, aren't you?"

It has been a long time since you realized how your rejections towards his actions were perceived and qualified as wanting, where Indra's reality was completely distorted.

"I...N-N-N..."

You can't get your tongue to move properly to outline his name, trying to defend yourself somehow. Ironic, for that heated muscle had danced shamelessly seconds ago across the man's lips lying beneath you.

"Shut your ungrateful mouth you rotten filthy bitch."

Your face is pressing against the man's neck, being held still by Indra. The blood dripping from the mortal wound on that person's forehead oozed down your features, mingling with your tears.

"Is this what you wanted? It takes a worm-like him to make you realize who you belong to? A damn misfortune that cute little cunt of yours has been desecrated in such a manner."

And as your breathing continued to heave and your body was convulsing in revulsion because the murdered man's limb continued inside you, you didn't notice Indra's weight on your back until it was too late.

"I allowed this hole to remain virgin waiting to be taken when my first son was inside you... The notion of fucking you along with my offspring was wonderful, but as you won't outlive this, I'll give myself the treat I've been depriving of."

You can feel the tip of his cock exert pressure on your ass, and even as a dead man lies beneath you both, filling your pussy, Indra has no trouble getting fully hard and forcing his way into you.

Holding your neck with both hands, his chest is pressed against your back as his waist slams viciously over your form, making you cry out in pain and getting halting pleas for mercy from your lips.

Everything is a nightmare.

Indra is a nightmare.

And even with the dark picture in that room, with your face smeared in The Otsutsuki's latest victim's blood, you hear his breathing pick up pace, grunts coming from deep in his throat as his dick mercilessly works your tight channel.

The man's length beneath your body lost its rigidity, uselessly stuffing you.  

You have no idea how much time elapsed in that assault, for your consciousness shut down a few times and you were forcibly awakened by his slapping.

Eventually, his seed mixes with the blood coming from your not-so-virgin opening. Beastly sounds are heard from behind you as your eyes close in defeat, tears continue to fall unchecked.

And suddenly the last sensation you experience in your life is that of such abuse. 

Accompanied by the sharp cold metal teeth of the kunai that slits your throat and robs you of your last breath.

[charmed-henry]

Consequences | The Order

The Order responds to Henry and Rose’s attempt at a mission

Date: Mid July

TW: Light references to death, violence, physical abuse (nothing graphic)

@prince--thomas @knightley--phillip @captain--john​ @thehuntress-rose​

HENRY

It made more sense not to have this conversation at the hospital, and yet Henry was grateful for that small mercy. He knew it was because talking about the Order in public was confusing at best and dangerous at worst, but Henry was personally very embarrassed about this whole thing and he really, really didn’t want Eric (or anyone else) to see him have to grovel. The fact that Rose was here was bad enough.

He sat down on the couch and looked around the room, from Rose to Tom to John to Phil, then sighed. Everyone stayed in stony silence. Henry had to say something. He sighed.

“Erm… right then,” Henry started, a little anxiously. “I reckon you will all want to say something about what my punishment will be and before we get into that, I just want to say that this really isn’t any of Rose’s fault. I know you will probably think that because of the way our last conversation went, but I didn’t tell her anything about Eric until last night, and this whole thing has been my idea. I… thought I could get Eric to come back to the Order on his own and I took some very stupid risks to do that, and… I’m very sorry that Rose got caught up in all of it.”

He glanced at Rose again, then back at the others. “Anyway, I wanted to get that out of the way. But… go ahead, let’s get on with it.”

THOMAS: Tom was fuming. He rarely got properly mad. This wasn’t just pissed off with annoyance, like he was at his mates every now and then. No, this was hands curled into fists, blood pounding, he wanted to hit something (preferably Henry’s face) mad.

He had been silent when he’d left the hospital with Rose and Henry in tow with a promise to see Grim and Eric in the morning. Now, he leaned against a wall of the living room, his arms crossed, expression stormy. He knew that he should keep control of his temper. They were young and stupid and he’d been young and stupid once. But, in their line of work, young and stupid meant you got people hurt or killed. Tom had already seen his fair share of death. So much of it. Even with Eric still alive, it hardly tipped the scales back. He was sick of it and he was angry.

So, Henry’s words only stirred a fire in him.

“Rose is responsible for her own actions,” Tom bit out. There that was civil enough…except that he kept going.

“If she didn’t want to be involved she would have called us or tried to stop you. So, she is just as at fault as you for your stupid, reckless behavior. You almost got someone killed! Probably more than one! You’re lucky you escaped alive. This isn’t a game! It’s not a training simulation. It’s fucking real and people’s lives! You two are playing with them as if none of that matters to you. It was irresponsible and dangerous and you should both be ashamed of yourselves. Not to mention all the lying and the secrecy. Does the code mean nothing to you? Does honor mean nothing? Eric is my family!” Tom’s voice boomed across the living room, and then cracked, like thunder. “I should’ve known he was alive!”

PHILLIP: Phillip reached a hand to Tom’s shoulder. He knew it was very likely that Tom would brush him off, but hell, if Tom was getting mad it was definitely a situation. He felt his own annoyance wrinkle in his chest, slowly tugging towards anger. He wasn’t as outraged as Thomas was (and that was justified — because, bloody hell Eric was alive), but he felt… well, betrayed really.

Disappointed.

That felt weird. Honestly, at this point, he’d rather be angry, rather curl his lip and rage.

But he glanced from Tom to Henry now and all he could think was that he was so damn happy they were alive.

“This was incredibly stupid and risky of you,” said Phillip, instead. He stood up, letting his hand drop from Thomas’s shoulder. “Especially after we told you all the risks — you could’ve put more civilians in danger. Did that ever occur to you? Did you even account for that, carrying on this plan in such a public place? What would have happened if it had been someone else who got injured and not Eric? If someone else died because of you lot.”

For all intents and purposes, his voice was rather calm, but he grit his teeth, some of that annoyance now mutating into bitter frustration.

“And,” he said, and this was the thing he did have the most issue with, and now his voice was cold. “You should’ve told Tom that his bloody cousin was alive.”

ROSE:

Rose was no stranger to scolding. The Huntsclan was a lot more barbaric in their tactics of taking a hunter down a peg. She went to the place in her mind that she usually did when she shut down. A place where she didn’t feel scared of whoever was in front of her. A place where her emotions didn’t control her. Rose heard the yelling, the anger in Tom’s voice, and felt Phil’s coldness.

He reminded her of her father.

Avoiding their eyes, she spoke up, “I didn’t know he was your cousin. I’m sorry, Tom.” Looking up to catch those ocean blues, “but you don’t have to grieve him anymore. You’re lucky.” Rose could only hope the people that had died in her time were secretly alive somewhere. She could see her mother walking down picturesque cobblestone roads with her hair down and not a care in the world. It was only a fantasy though, Rose had seen the open casket. There was proof of the impossibility of her return.

“Henry, you don’t have to defend me. We were in over our heads. I just didn’t want to admit I was,” she sighed. Eating crow wasn’t something Rose enjoyed, but to appease the men that had the power to further her fall from grace… she had to do something. If anyone in New York heard about this Rose would never gain back her good reputation.

JOHN

John was silent. His eyes spoke for him, the icy cold expression of contempt and disappointment aimed itself directly at the two responsible for this mess. “You deliberately disobeyed everything that you were told at the meeting when you first brought this business up. You lied directly to Thomas and Phillip.” He hadn’t been at the meeting, too busy with Office Hours he couldn’t leave from to go discuss a possible threat. He didn’t want to seem suspicious by lying to Jane once again to get out of it so he got updates from Tom and Phil throughout.

This was all a huge mess. A mess that weighed on his shoulders. Because although he was not appointed as some kind of higher position, the Order had always viewed him as the point of contact, the ring leader for all of this, he communicated with them and now he would have to either cover this up, or report to them what was going on. It put him in a position he very much didn’t want to be in.

“How is it that you two could be so impossibly daft?” His voice was cold, biting. Honestly, it was as if he was doing the most spot on impression of his father which frightened him a bit if he was being honest. “You’ve betrayed our trust. You’ve most certainly betrayed Tom’s and kept vital information from him. I cannot believe you lot, honestly. I’m in utter fucking disbelief. And now we’ve got a situation that we have to explain ourselves out of which draws further suspicion and more eyes towards us, jeopardizing everything we’ve bloody been working for.”

He would show some sort of reassurance or affection towards Thomas in his moment of crisis, but all he could do was lock his arms up, crossed over himself because he worried what he might do otherwise with them. No object not bolted down was safe. So he stood there, rigid, staring down the two that were the source of his ire.  

HENRY

Henry had braced himself for this. He knew it was coming. For all the ways Henry had messed up during training, not fast enough or strong enough or focused enough, he had never landed himself in this kind of trouble before. There was a difference between a failure of strength and a moral failure. For someone who had always prided himself on his convictions, the latter hurt more.

He wanted to curl up in a ball, to crawl out of his skin, to completely disappear, but Henry knew that would only make him look weaker than he already did. So he gritted his teeth and listened, making eye contact with Tom, then Phil, then John, each one’s speech feeling like another punch to the gut. And by the time John was done, Henry could feel something rising in his throat, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

They were all right. Henry had lied. He had been cocky and selfish, believing he could bring Eric back to the Order all by himself and that everyone would be so bloody thankful they would overlook the way Henry had lied to them. He had betrayed the men who had trusted him and treated him kindly despite his family’s reputation, and he had dragged Rose into it, who should never have even been involved to begin with. Henry’s honor and his morals had always been so important to him, and now he didn’t even have that.

“I understand,” Henry said through gritted teeth, determined not to show any emotion. He didn’t want to risk saying too much more and looking like even more of the pathetic fool he felt like. “You’re all right. There’s no excuse. I thought I was doing right by Eric, but in reality…” Henry cut himself off and swallowed hard. “That’s all I’ve really got to say. I’m sorry. I… don’t deserve to call myself a Prince right now.”

That hurt even more to admit out loud. Henry needed to get out of here before he really let that sink in. He looked between the others, waiting for someone to speak. “...So what’s going to happen to us?”

THOMAS: Nothing Rose or Henry said made him feel any better about this. Their apologies meant little to him and Rose’s argument also meant little. Of course Tom was relieved to have Eric back. He had lost more people than he could count at this point. To have any of them back was a bloody miracle. But, that did not fix the damage that had been done. Not only to Tom’s heart, but to his trust in either of them. (Though, he did not know how much or for how long Rose had known.) Henry, though, knew better. He knew better and he had done it anyway.

Had lied to them as a Prince. Going off behind their backs to put himself and others in danger, trying to play the hero. Tom understood the urge, but you had to be smart about these things. You couldn’t just throw yourself into a mess without a plan. By lying, he knew that he shouldn’t have done it in the first place.

And he had lied to Tom as a friend, as family. Sure, Henry and Tom did not share blood, but they shared family nonetheless. His sister was Tom’s sister’s in-law. They shared an aunt.

His jaw grit as he listened to Henry’s speech and still felt nothing but burning anger. If it was the two of them, and just the two of them, Tom would’ve already punched him and been done with it. But, he had a feeling that it needed more than a fight to get the bad blood out from between them.

Still, he just glanced towards John, knowing he knew the severity of this crime--and the severity of the punishment that must follow. Tom had a feeling if he was the one who doled it out, it would not be taken as seriously, considering the vengeance that it would be.

PHILLIP:

“You’ll be put on probation,” said Phillip, before John could speak. He knew that John would be harsher with his words than he probably intended (or maybe, he’d intend them to be that harsh — either way, harsher than was necessary for the situation). Phillip could deliver the punishment without going overboard, he felt, because while he certainly was pissed off, he didn’t have as much personal stake in the matter (and also, well, he’d felt a little annoyed at the concept of the Order lately, if only because of his forced engagement).

“Well, Henry will anyway. Rose, I’m sure it’ll be up to your superiors, but I reckon the fate will be similar: you’ll still be stationed in Swynlake, but you won’t be assigned on any missions. We can call on your assistance if we need, but it’ll likely be menial work: helping John with the paperwork, cleaning weapons, all that jazz. The probationary period usually lasts for a few months, after which, your status will be evaluated.” He sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. “Should you break your probation, then you’ll be stripped of your Prince status and if you ever want to take it back, you’ll need to undergo the required training and examinations once again.”

He flicked his gaze from Henry to Rose.

“Once again, not sure what the protocol will be for you, Rose, should you violate that probation.” He folded his hands together. “Got all that?”

ROSE: (tw: abuse mention) Great.

John was yelling, which she hadn’t seen before, but she’d never seen him happy with her either. Tom was just stoically standing there, brooding. Rose had seen this more than enough times. Phil, however, was the one speaking calmly, rationally. Well, he was pretty calm most times. But it seemed as if he had stepped up to dole out reprimands.

Rose supposed she should appreciate it. Considering that hearing it from anyone else would most likely be a lot harsher. John probably thought she was the worst person to transfer over from the Huntsclan, but Tom knew exactly why. She wasn’t ‘stationed’ here, she was exiled. The Huntress chose to come here, yes, but it was never really her own choice. Her punishment was being here, she was never going to be sent back to New York for bad behavior.

She sighed, really absorbing the mess she’d gotten herself into. It was bad for her, but worse for Henry. If he stepped out of line, they said he’d lose his position? He wouldn’t handle that well at all. Rose knew the Order was all about, well, order… but she’d much rather just take a quick slap or a bloody nose over a demotion. The hellion huntress had already worked her way down the ladder of punishments so there was not much further to fall.

“Fine,” she muttered under her breath, but still loud enough to hear. Rose looked up from her feet, to acknowledge only Phil, “Can we go now?”

THOMAS: In Tom’s opinion, Henry deserved to have his title stripped. Here and now. Of course, it was not that easy. The Golden Trio they might be, but it was the kings of the Order who decided such things. He would absolutely recommend it. John and Phil had already managed to talk him down from that, but it didn’t change his mind.

It had been so bloody reckless. It had been so bloody deceitful. Tom couldn’t decide what he was more pissed about: the fact they had gone against their direct orders and almost gotten someone killed or that Henry had been lying to his face for…a year? More?

Tom’s heart felt like it was tearing itself apart and he resented it. He resented all of it. The Order and all it’s stupid rules. The Order and how it put them in these positions. Made them make these decisions—about life and death. He resented how it made him lose his family and then lose them again. All of the sudden, it was as if the clouds had parted onto a calm sea after days and nights of a storm raging. Years of a storm raging.

And he could see clearly how all these things came back to one thing: the Order. It had taken his father and his brother in law, his cousins. How miserable it was. But, as soon as he tried to navigate a path away, all he saw was his sisters. Was Phil and John. And he couldn’t—would never—leave them behind.

“Yes, go,” Tom bit out. “And I hope in the future you take the lives of those you care about much more seriously. Life is not guaranteed, death is.”

[letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked]

Words On My Skin (Part 24)

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

A/n: Well, we know what happened at the cabin… but the reader doesn’t. Yikes. How does she deal with it? What does her dad know about what happened? Keep reading and find out!

Warnings: Y/n being a goddamn (drunk) mess…

Main Masterlist // WOMS Masterlist

 If your father’s wavering voice wasn’t cause enough to be nervous, his shaking hands sure were. His trembling hand reached out to grab the drink your mother had just poured him – handing you yours, as well – and he threw it back quickly, leaning forward to grab the bottle your mother left on the coffee table to pour himself another.

“I… I was hunting in my deer stand.” He began, leaning back to get comfy on the couch and staring into his glass as you and your mother leaned in to listen. “It was… one of the weekends that we let you come up, and I let you fish by the river.”

“Alone.” Your mother muttered to you, tone laced with disapproving bitterness. “That’s why I never wanted you back there, again. You were unsupervised.”

“Well, Adira, it fucking bit me in the ass, didn’t it?” He snapped at her, throwing back the second drink and setting the glass on the table. “Can I fucking finish my story, or do you not want to know?”

“Carry on.” You mother waved him off, dismissively, crossing her legs properly in front of her.

“Anyways,” He continued, after a small pause, “Jimmy Stahl… Jimmy heard some screaming echoing through the woods. He was panicking, because he recognized the screams to be yours, and sent George – you knew him as Mr. Chomilo – to come get Frank and I… while he set out to find you.” He closed his eyes, and your mother quickly poured him a third drink, placing it in his feeble looking hands. The man looked twice his age, in just a matter of moments. “Stahl found you first. You were… you were covered in dirt and blood. Your jacket was missing, your shoe was missing… You looked… you looked like you’d been through hell.”

He took a small sip, before staring into his glass – as if reliving a nightmare – as he continued, “As I got closer to you, I could hear you screaming... You sounded so terrified.” He gulped, lip wobbling slightly, “I can still hear that scream in my head, nearly twenty years later…”

“What… happened?” You asked, voice thick as you tried your father’s tactic of calming down and took a gulp of the bitter, burning liquid – trying not to gag on it. The liquid warmed your belly, but also threatened your gag reflex. “What happened in the woods?”

“I heard a gunshot.” He whispered, still loud in the dead silence of the apartment. “The gunshot was… loud. I almost didn’t believe it was a gunshot at first… but then I heard you. You sounded… so broken. That scream nearly stopped my heart.”

“Oh, god.” Your mother’s face was pale, her hand covering her mouth in horror as tears sprang to her eyes. “Oh god.”

“When I found you… You were standing there… with a gun in your hand.”

“I… I…” You gulped, chest painfully squeezing as you tried to process what your father was telling you. “I shot someone?”

“Yes.”

No…

God, why couldn’t it have been your father that was the murderer. Why did it have to be you? That person probably had a family. That person probably had friends. That person… Oh god. Who was it?! Did you even want to know?

“I’m… Oh my god.” You shook your head, standing up and nearly dropping your glass as your palms became slick. Your heart was racing just as fast as your mind, the both of them nearly competing to send you into a panic attack. “I’m a murderer.”

“It was self-defense.” Your father shook his head, standing as well and placing his glass on the coffee table. “Honey, it looked like… he attacked you… because… he was HYDRA.”

No…

“He was HYDRA?!” You shouted, throwing your hands up, before dragging them over your hair in frustration. “All this time, you knew that my tattoo had to do with HYDRA, and you didn’t say anything? I- I had to find out by getting nearly kidnapped out of my apartment!”

“I didn’t know that at the time!” He defended, crossing his arms over his chest. “Back then, no one knew about HYDRA except what was in the history books! We all thought that Captain America defeated HYDRA in the forties! I didn’t know that your fucking soulmate would be HYDRA’s fucking assassin!”

“You mean HYDRA’s prisoner?!” You shouted, your immediate reaction to defend your soulmate. “Anyways, how the fuck didn’t you know that it had to do with my tattoo?! What did you think, all these years?!”

“I didn’t want to think about it, Y/n!” He yelled, voice cracking at the end. “I thought… God, I thought that he was trying to… I thought that he was trying to hurt you! You were so scared, and your clothes were torn… I don’t know! I assumed that he… Fuck! I assumed that he’d tried to take advantage of my baby girl!”

The silence was so thick, you could nearly choke on it.

“You… spent the last… twenty years… thinking that a man… Oh my god, dad.” Tears pricked at your eyes, as the thoughts of your father pushing himself away because of the guilt. Jesus Christ, your family needed therapy. Lots and lots of therapy. “What happened to the… body?”

“We took care of it.” He sat back down on the sofa, next to your mother – who had silent tears streaming down her face – and placed his head in his hands. “Stahl called his contact. We… we took care of it.”

“Fuck, dad. Jesus.”

Your entire body felt heavy. It was if someone just kept adding a weight on your shoulders with every word your father admitted. The grief and pain laced in his voice left a heavy hole in your heart. Your father had spent the last twenty odd years thinking that a man had tried to rape you. Fuck. No wonder he avoided you. Knowing your father… he blamed himself for trusting the man that had attacked you.

“I was worried about your safety.” He looked up at you, tired eyes barely meeting yours and lined with guilt. “I was worried that HYDRA was going to come after my baby girl, because an agent had died. He... had to have seen your tattoo. He must have known the translation, and what it meant.” He took a breath to steady himself, before continuing, “I swore my friends to secrecy. The contact gave us a story to tell, and… it was never spoken of, again.”

“What about me?!” You cried, tears flowing down your face as you lashed out – unable to help the feeling that you’d been betrayed by him keeping this secret from you. “What the hell did you tell me?! Why don’t I remember this?!”

“You didn’t remember what happened.” Your dad admitted, shaking his head and brushing his hands over his balding head, before sniffling. “We… The story was that you’d fallen into the river, and nearly drowned. The psychologist claimed that your mind blocked out the memory, to protect itself… so… we let you believe that.”

“But… I don’t even remember that.” A small, cynical laugh burst through you, as you wiped under your nose. “I don’t even… I don’t even remember that summer.”

“You don’t need to remember.” He snapped, jaw tensing in frustration. “Do you really want to remember that?! You were happy again! You weren’t plagued with the horror that we stumbled on! Let the past stay in the fucking past!”

Staring at your feet, you didn’t even know how the fuck to process any of this. What… what were you supposed to say to all this? How were you supposed to feel?

“I’m sorry, baby.” His voice cracked, breaking the palpable silence. You glanced up to see a lone tear slide down your father’s cheek. Your father, the toughest, bravest, scariest man you knew… was crying. “I’m so sorry.”

“Oh my god.” A sob escaped your throat, as your knees nearly buckled under you. The weight was too much. You… fuck. You killed someone. How were you supposed to live with that?! “Dad, oh my god.”

“Bo…” Your mother cleared her throat, sliding off the couch and kneeling in front of your crying father. “Oh my god, Bo.”

“I lied to you, Adira.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around her and sobbing into her neck. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

What the hell?!

You’re a fucking murderer.

You murdered someone!

“I can’t… I can’t… I can’t…” You breathed, unable to catch your breath as your mind raced a million miles a minute. “I can’t…”

Backing up slowly, you grabbed your purse and coat in a daze, feeling like you were floating above your body – staring down at your hunched, broken form as you pressed the button for the elevator. You didn’t understand what was happening. What were you thinking? What were you feeling? Were you even feeling? What were you going to do?

There were so many questions, and you didn’t even know where to begin to answer them.

The ding of the elevator barely made it to your ears before you were shot back into your body, standing in the back corner of the elevator and hearing your parents calling out your name.

It felt as if someone had shot a dozen flaming arrows into your chest, watching as your skin bubbled and peeled away from the muscle and filled the cavity with acid. Your chest was burning, your breath was caught in your throat, and fucking hell did your fucking head hurt.

Sobs wracked your whole body as you slid down the wall of the elevator, feeling the slight vibration as it slowly descended back towards the lobby, and you landed on your knees – a sharp pain radiating from your sprained wrist. As your breaths increased in frequency, it felt as if your throat was beginning to close – the sensation similar to breathing through a coffee straw. You were light headed, watching as the floor blurred between every blink as you were unable to control the tears that streamed down your face.

Murderer. Murderer. Murderer. Murderer…

It was as if there was a recording, playing on repeat over and over and over in your head.

How were you supposed to live with yourself knowing that you murdered someone, but not know who it was or why it happened?

“Y/n?!” Caleb? Was that Caleb? “Y/n, what happened?”

“…I need…” Glancing up, you stared into his worried brown eyes, and shook your head. “I need to go home.”

“Okay, sweetheart, let’s get you up.” He leaned forward, his arms looping around your middle, under your armpits. “Up you go. Let’s get you to the car. Security’s dealing with the paparazzi.”

“I… Can’t go out there like this.” You stopped, leaning against the wall just outside the elevator. “Just… hold on.”

“Y/n, what happened up there?” He asked, running a hand through his disheveled, brown hair. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” You sniffled, a small, breathy chuckle escaping before you – unattractively – wiped your nose on your jacket sleeve. “Jerk.”

“I say it with love, buttercup.” He grinned, in an attempt to get you to feel better and focus on something other than what was bothering you. “You owe me an apology for your diva moment, by the way. I’m waiting for red roses and a trip to Disney World.”

“I can give you a shit apology and a hug?” You gave him a watery smile, holding out your arms. You felt out of it, like you were in the back of your own head, watching someone else have this conversation. “I’m sorry for being a grade-A dickwad.”

“Apology accepted.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, your purse in his other hand, and led you towards the door – where you could already see a security team attempting to keep the paps at bay. “Ready?”

With a nod, you closed your eyes, letting him guide you out the door and into the thunderous noise, even though you really weren’t ready.

“HEY!” You heard Caleb yell out, as a hand suddenly wrapped around your watch-covered wrist. You heard the beeping of the panic button being activated but continued to keep your head down and eyes closed. “BACK UP!”

Caleb’s arm was suddenly ripped from your shoulders, and you tripped over your own feet – eyes flying open as the ground suddenly flew up towards your face, and hands braced for immediate impact. Luckily, someone caught you, straightening you up. A small sob escaped you, breaking down the damn as you tried to cover your face from the public view. Another arm was wrapped around your shoulders, and forced you forward into the car, slamming the door behind you.

Caleb’s voice faded in and out as you tried to settle yourself down, but the task felt nearly impossible. You felt like a toddler who couldn’t get a handle on her own emotions, resorting to just… hysterics.

“Shhh… it’s okay, Y/n, we’re almost home.” You heard Caleb’s fake cheery voice that he reserved for bad situations, as he tried to console your sobbing form curled up in the passenger’s seat of your own vehicle. “We’re almost there, and we’ll get you back to your room.”

In a hushed tone, he spoke into his comms, low enough that you couldn’t hear what he was saying.

You weren’t really sure why you were so hysterical. It’s not like you remembered what your father was talking about. You didn’t have any memories of the cabin, nor of… shooting someone. To be honest, you were more confused about everything, and wished that you’d never opened the can of worms. You wished you never asked your father what happened… but… you were sort of relieved that you did.

It was a fucking mess.

Maybe you were hysterical because of the day you’d had?

It felt like everything was just… catching up with you. All the feelings that you’d tried to compartmentalize were beginning to surface, but you had no idea where to even begin to make sense of the mess. You could go at it like you would your paperwork: most important to least important. You could work your way from there? But… what was most important? What was least important? It all felt pretty fucking important!

Bad approach.

Maybe you should wait to make sense of it all until you could talk to Dr. Burson.

That would be a great idea.

Funny that someone who got a fucking bachelor’s in counseling doesn’t even know how to fix her own problems… you picked the wrong field, dumbass.

Well, helping people with their problems was a lot easier than dealing with your own.

When you opened your eyes, you were stunned to realize that you weren’t even in the car, anymore. You were in your own bedroom. The place that you’d been trying to avoid for days. You were seated on the end of the bed, your purse and jacket were placed neatly next to you, and someone had removed your shoes.

When in the hell did all this happen?

Shaking your head, you tried to clear out the sob-fog that was clouding your mind. Caleb must have brought you here.

Testing the water, you tried to stand, pleasantly surprised when your shaking legs were able to hold up your body weight. The room was warmer than you remembered it feeling the last few days, and you were glad that the bedroom felt safe, again.

Though, you still wished it was Bucky’s room.

You scanned the room, eyes landing on a bottle of wine you’d opened days ago but forgot to drink.

Do it.

With a shrug, you slowly grabbed the heavy bottle, before pulling a small throw-blanket off the bed and sitting on the ledge next to your window.

It must have snowed more since your hurried visit to your parents’ apartment, because the place was back to looking like a winter wonderland – versus a slushy mess. A fresh blanket of snow covered the entire grounds, and the cold radiated from the glass of the window, contrasting with the heat of the bedroom. It felt nice.

Pressing your temple against the chilled pane of glass, you quickly uncorked the bottle of sweet wine that had been a birthday gift from Wanda, a few months prior, and drank the tepid liquid straight from the bottle. Gulping down the wine wasn’t the best decision after the day you’d had, but… whatever.

It wasn’t like this brand of wine had that much alcohol in it.

It was like Arbor Mist.

It was basically juice.

When the bottle was nearly gone, a knock sounded at the door, pulling you from your thoughts – and the bottle – before you leaned your head back against the window. “FRIDAY? Who’s at the door?”

“Sergeant Barnes is at the door, Ms. L/N.”

“Fuck… Alright. Fuck it. Let him in.” You sighed, pulling another drink from the bottle as you heard the lock slide with a click. Wrapping the blanket more firmly around you, you ignored his presence, sure that you’d start crying again if you looked at his stupid… cute… face. “Long time no see, Barnes.”

Well… that was a little bitter.

He was silent for a moment, as you downed the rest of the contents of the bottle, dropping the bottle onto the floor loudly before closing your eyes and focusing on the cold glass to keep you grounded.

“What happened at your mom and dad’s?” His smooth voice cut through the silence, sending a pang of sadness through you, but also making your brain fuzzy. Unless that was the wine… the delicious wine. You should really buy more of that wine. What was it called, again? “Oh, Jesus. Did you drink that whole bottle of wine?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You whispered, opening your eyes but staring out the slightly fogged window. You lifted a finger, swirling your warm fingertip through the fog to make a small swirl. “Why are you here? Thought you were ignoring me?” A small pang of hurt strummed through the bond, and you huffed in annoyance. “You don’t get to be hurt by that, after you ignored me.”

“I wasn’t-” He cut himself off, breathing in through his nose and forcing his breath out through his mouth to calm himself down. “I wasn’t ignoring you or trying to hurt you.”

“Bullshit!” You swung around, equilibrium slightly off as your head continued to grow fuzzy and tongue thick. “Not ignoring me? Really? You were just too busy thinking that you were some sorta’ monster, or something? Right? Even though I’ve told you countless, multiples of times th-that I don’t ever think that of you?”

“Sweetheart, you’re drunk. Can we have this conversation in the morning, please?” He sighed, taking a step closer to you, picking up the bottle and setting it on the dresser – next to the rose he’d gotten you for your first date. “Come on, let’s just lay down.”

“I’m not even drunk.”

“Come on, sweetheart. You need to lay down.”

“I’m not gunna’ lay down, yet!” You pointed your finger at him, arm feeling like a million pounds. “Because you’re not the only monster, Bucky.”

His eyebrows pulled together, looking taken aback, and he crouched in front of you as you stared at a spot in the wall behind him, watching as the walls began to get blurry. “Sweetheart, what are you talking about?”

You shook your head, the blur going away for a moment as you reached forward and brushed your fingers against his scruffy beard, loving the way that it felt prickly against your fingers. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, darlin’.” He smiled softly, eyes crinkling cutely in the corners, “More than you’ll ever know.”

“Improbably.” You stumbled over your words, before shaking your fuzzy head and correcting yourself, “Shit… that’s not what I meant to say.”

He reached up, warm fingers slowly coming to rest over your hand that was touching his beautiful scruffy face. “Why did you drink all the wine, sweetheart?”

You frowned, not wanting to talk about all the dark and twisty stuff. “To forget.”

“What do you need to forget?”

Pulling your hands away from him, you covered your face, worried that the tears were going to start again. If they did… they might not stop. “No.”

“Hey,” He leaned forward, wrapping his warm arms around your cold body and pulling you into his chest, “That’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it, right now.”

“We still have’ta talk.” You mumbled into the softness of his tee shirt, turning your head so your ear was pressed against his solid chest, “You left me.”

“I know.” He whispered, arms tightening around you and nuzzling his face into the top of your head, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I woke up in the- in the hospital bed without you.” There was a slight crack in your voice, as the tears began to form again, and your head began to pound from your impending tears. “I thought you… I...” You pulled back, framing his face with your hands, thumbs brushing against the roughness of his face as you tried to maintain contact with his sad, blue eyes, “I don’t like that you… you hate you… because I could never hate you. I love you.”

He remained silent, eyes cast down to the side as he swallowed thickly, and you wished that you weren’t so… so drunk. That way you could feel what he was feeling, instead of the impending vomit that was sloshing around in your wine-filled belly.

Wait… vomit?

Ohhhhh, shit...

“Oh no…” You mumbled to yourself, as the vomit in question began to rise up into your throat. “Nope. Nope. Nope.”

Wrenching yourself from your spot, you lunged for the bathroom, nearly sprinting before you threw yourself onto the floor in front of the toilet – wine and bile spewing from your lips. The puke made it on the toilet… not so much in it, though. The stupid toilet cover was down from putting on socks, earlier that day.

That was going to be a bitch to clean up.

“Woah… okay.” You heard from behind you, as you grabbed the trash can and continued to puke in it, so there wasn’t any more mess on the floor. You felt a warm hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles along the thin fabric of your tee shirt. “Maybe next time you shouldn’t chug the entire bottle, yeah?”

“Fuck-” puke. “-Off.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” He chuckled from behind you, quickly wetting a rag in the sink and handing it to you to clean yourself up. “Do you need a shower, or do you want to go to bed?”

“I dunno’.” You mumbled, the spins beginning to make you feel like you were riding the tilt o whirl from the county fair you’d gone to as a kid. “I think… I puked on myself, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Shower…” You mumbled, grabbing the bottom of your messy shirt, before pausing, “But… you haven’t seen me naked, yet… I don’t wanna’…”

“You can shower in your underwear, sweetheart.” He scoffed, quickly pulling your shirt over your head with a dramatic roll of his eyes, “I’ve seen you in a swimsuit, it’s basically the same thing.”

No… but… fine. Okay.

Whatever, right?

You leaned your back against the bathtub as he reached into your shower and turned on the spray, getting droplets of water on his shirt before turning back to you and crouching down next to you, “Pants off.”

“They’re leggings. Not pants.” You laughed, as he grabbed the hem and pulled them down your legs swiftly – discarding them, as well as your socks. “Leggings aren’t pants. My mom would freak out.”

“Up you go.” He hauled you up, not struggling in the slightest, even though you were practically dead weight. “Do you need help?”

“Mmmm.” You closed your eyes as you sat on the floor in the steamy shower, the cold tiles holding you against the ground as you leaned against the wall. “I’m glad my bra matches.”

He sighed, and you heard him shuffling around with your shower stuff, as you basically fell asleep against the wall for a moment.

Before you knew it, a warm towel being wrapped around you slightly woke you up, as you felt yourself being lifted from the shower. “Bucky?”

“I’m right here.” He replied softly, warm breath washing over your face, as you tried to open your eyes against the harsh lighting of your bedroom. “Do you think you can get dressed for bed?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, eyes squinting against the light as he set you on your feet in your closet, handing you a large tee shirt that you’d stolen from him. “Can… you get me water?”

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart. Sit down if you get too dizzy, okay?” He commanded, voice getting further and further away. “I’ll be right back.”

When you heard your door click shut, you tried to hurriedly take off the soaking wet sports bra, getting frustrated as the stupid material clung to your skin and rolled. It took you four tries before the stupid thing rolled off your skin, and you threw it in the hamper in a huff – tossing your underwear in, just as angry.

Stupid fucking thing.

Thankfully, the tee shirt slid on easily and smelled like Bucky, calming you down slightly as you pulled on a clean pair of underwear, discarding your pajama shorts onto the floor.

Fuck pants. No. Not wearing them.

The dizzy came back, so you sat down on the floor, leaning your back against the frame of the closet and placed your head in your hands.

Oh god. You just puked in front of Bucky… and he had to shower you.

Why the fuck did you do that?

What was WRONG with you?!

You were a fucking hot mess.

…you needed help.

A small sob bubbled over, as the guilt and embarrassment came crashing down on top of you like the whole building was falling. Hot tears fell against your hands, burning your eyes, and your body tensed up. Your skin burst into goosebumps, as the cold air – versus the steam of the shower – seemed to seep into your bones.

Unsure why you were crying so hard, the intensity of the sobs just kept building and building.

“Woah, hey, hey, hey…” You heard Bucky’s panicked voice, as he rushed over to your hysterical state on the floor, scooping you up into his lap and pulling you against his chest. “Shhh. You’re okay, sweetheart.”

“No, I’m not.” You sobbed, voice hoarse and thick, as you stained his new shirt with tears. “I’m a fucking mess.”

“Then be a mess.” He whispered against your clean, wet hair, hand brushing along your spine soothingly – up and down – trying to get you to calm down. “I’m right here with you.”

That opened up a can of worms you weren’t sure Bucky was prepared for…

Full-on breakdown mode was initiated.

Ha. Like it wasn’t, already.

You weren’t sure how long you were both on the floor, but you were glad he was there. You both had a lot to talk about, and – though you were drunk and hysterical – you were finally able to let yourself feel it. You’d been compartmentalizing for so long, that you felt like a 2 liter of pop that had been repeatedly shook up, on the verge of popping off the cap and exploding everywhere.

Well, your cap had finally popped off.

Fuck, this was gunna suck in the morning.

Part 25

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I know a lot of you haven’t been getting notifications for WOMS, among other fics...

Let’s see if this “Roblogging my taglist” thing works this time LOL

If not, I’ll try something different! 

[smoochcal]

numb without you (part eleven)

a/n: hello again! I definitely did not want to be creative and give the roommate a name so just know that RM/N is calum’s roommate smh. please give me feedback in any way shape or form you have it in my inbox :) suggestions are always welcome with all my writing but especially with this series!! I hope you guys are enjoying it so far and as always thank you to miss el for being my main inspiration for this entire writing work. if we could get this update to 20 notes that would be rad!! (part ten here)

pairing: readerxluke

word count: 1.7k

playlist: numb without you by the maine, piece of your heart by mayday parade

summary: Luke is fed up with the secrets and lies that Calum is giving him, the three of you have dinner together

rating: PG-13

warnings: swearing, secrecy

Y/N’s POV:

The three of you made your way back to your apartment after the appointment was finished. You swear you couldn’t stop smiling after you found out the news, and it’s true you have not stopped smiling for the past hour. You were so incredibly happy right now and you could not think of a single thing that could change your mood. You and the baby are both incredibly healthy and everything is going the way it should.

Once you all get back to the apartment, Luke and Calum decide the three of you need dinner. They both offer to go pick up some pizza. You make sure they get your favorite kind, cheese with extra cheese. Luke mentioned that any other kind of pizza would be gross, a jab at Calum for ordering something other than what the two of you were planning to eat. You mess with the necklace carefully placed around your neck as the two of them bicker about who knows what at this point. Luke got you this necklace for the first birthday you celebrated with him. It has a little butterfly charm on it and it has to be one of your favorite things that you own.

Before you know it the two of them are walking out of your front door and getting in the car to go pick up the pizza, they both insisted on having for dinner.  

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Luke’s POV:

You cannot believe the bullshit Calum is pulling right now. The two of you have been fighting practically since he showed up late to Y/N’s doctor’s appointment. After finding out about his whole roommate lover whatever situation, you really could not put up with his bullshit anymore. How can he even begin to care about Y/N and his own child if he’s too busy trying to fuck his roommate? Why did he even have a roommate? You definitely know he does not need someone else to help him pay rent, so this whole having a female roommate thing has to be something he has up his sleeve.

You did not get to say much to him last night when you found out about his roommate, mainly because he forced you out of his house the minute he realized you had met her. It’s not necessarily your fault that you found out about RM/N. You just stopped by to talk to Calum considering the two of you haven’t really talked much without Y/N being there. You have so many questions regarding this rather odd situation, and it was honestly hard to figure out a place to start. He was driving to the pizza place which was about a 25-minute drive from Y/N’s place. You had the time now, so you decided to ask him a couple questions about the whole situation as calmly as you could.

“So…what’s the deal with the whole roommate thing?” you ask Calum in the most nonchalant way possible.

Calum sighs with his eyes still glued to the road in front of him which you don’t know if he is doing this because he is driving or because he truly just does not want to look at you right now. He takes his time with answering your question. You know that there had to be some reason why he was keeping her from everybody. As far as you knew, literally no one knew about RM/N until you happened to stop by his house the one time he wasn’t home and she happened to answer the door. You feel kind of intrusive for being so blunt about the situation, but you did not have the time nor the energy to dance around this any longer. You were truly trying to understand where Calum was coming from with all of this and you wanted to make sure that Y/N and their kid would not be hurt in the process. Some song by Mayday Parade which you vaguely recognize was filling the empty space in the car and the silence made before Calum finally opens his mouth in order to talk to you about what exactly is going on.

“…I didn’t mean for her to get in the way of anything. I know it was probably wrong of me to keep RM/N away from you and the guys and Y/N and basically everyone in my life I just didn’t know what to do about the situation quite yet and I was hoping if I waited a little bit longer I would give myself some time to figure it out. You want me to start from the beginning?” Calum asks, glancing over at you for a nod of approval, which you give him.

“Basically, I was deep into the darkness that is the internet and I came across an ad for this girl looking for a place to live. Normally I would just scroll past something like that considering I definitely don’t need someone to help me with rent or anything like that…but then I read more of the description of her and saw her picture and got to thinking that I would need someone to watch Duke whenever we do promo and eventually go back on tour and why would I hire a stranger to come and watch my house while I was gone for months at a time when I could just have a roommate who would do that for me anyway because it was also their house and Duke already knew them…” he eventually trails off long enough for you to question exactly what he was trying to get at.

“So, you’re telling me that you found RM/N on a random Craig’s list ad and decided based off her picture and short description that she wrote about herself ALONE was the reason you decided you needed a roommate AND decided it needed to be her?” you conclude, looking at Calum skeptically.

“Dude, I know where you are going with this…and please just give me a break I know it’s weird, can we just get over that part? She lives with me now and I need to know what the fuck to do about it before you go blabbing to Y/N all about my home life that she doesn’t know about…” Calum responds, obviously concerned with what you are going to do with this information now that you have it.

You shake your head before ultimately responding in a somewhat decent way that would please Calum for the time being, “Fine, but don’t think that you are going to get off the hook that easily with all of this…especially that bullshit you pulled earlier with being almost twenty minutes late to the most important doctor’s appointment so far…like you are so incredibly lucky that the doctor herself was running behind with her appointments for the day because if everything was on time you would’ve missed the whole thing. What were you even doing that caused you to be so late?”

“I…uh…was writing a song…” Calum mumbles as he continues to stare ahead at the road in front of him, obviously avoid any and all eye contact with you to show what you had already confirmed.

“Well that’s a lie if I’ve ever heard one…what were you fucking your roommate or something?” you question, raising an eyebrow at your friend.

“No…never…why would you think…” Calum replies but doesn’t completely finish what he was saying as you could see a small blush appear on his cheeks. He was still avoiding eye contact with you, but this time for an entirely different reason.

Before you could interrogate him further on his romantic endeavors with RM/N, the two of you have finally arrived at Y/N’s favorite pizza place. His timing could not have been better as you were forced to hop out of the car to pick up the handful of pizzas you ordered for dinner for the three of you to share back at Y/N’s place. He may have gotten some time to collect his thoughts, but you would definitely be grilling him more about the situation and what exactly the two of you were going to tell Y/N after she finished her dinner. She deserved to know what’s going on with Calum, not only because he is the father of her unborn child but also because if anything comes of this roommate thing then there is another person that will soon join your group that is planning on raising this baby.

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Y/N’s POV:

The boys were back after about an hour of leaving you on your own to do whatever you needed to do. While they were gone, you tidied up the place since you had kind of dropped the ball on keeping your apartment clean over the past couple weeks. You also spent some time browsing a couple maternity clothes websites before getting frustrated with it all and deciding that you would hit the mall sometime next week to get some new clothes that would actually fit you and your ever-growing baby bump. Your mom called about thirty minutes after Luke and Calum left to pick up dinner and you got to tell her the exciting news that she is going to have a granddaughter in about five months.

The three of you ate your pizza in almost complete silence. You did not know what was going on between Luke and Calum, but you were honestly getting sick of the secrecy. You finished the last slice that you could stomach and start to put away the leftovers while you waited for the boys to finish their food. Once everyone was done eating, you sat down on the couch and demanded for both of them to spill the beans on whatever they were so blatantly hiding from you.

“Do you want the short version or the long version?” Calum inquires with a sigh.

“The short version,” you say, being pretty short tempered yourself.

“Calum has a female roommate that he has been hiding from us for the past four months,” Luke states with a slight smirk in his tone.

~To be continued…~

[canyousevmyheavydirtysoul]

You’re My Bodyguard, Not My Owner. (Chapter 25)

A light crinkle formed on your forehead as your brows furrowed a minuscule amount and you took deliberate steps toward the armoured glass encasing The Asset. You had heard so much about this man and the horribly heinous things he’d done – some of those things directly impacting and changing your life forever – but as you stood less than a few feet away from him, staring absorbedly at his rugged appearance and edgy demeanour, you didn’t feel repulsed or vengeful – you felt curious. Curious to know more about him, about Hydra, about everything. The vague smirk dancing on his chapped lips told you that he knew exactly what you were feeling, and he was more than prepared to enlighten you.

You eyed him for a few more seconds before swallowing and fixing your gaze with his dense brown eyes.

“From what I’ve heard about you,” you spoke, slowly and devoid of any kind of emotion, “I expected you to be a lot more intimidating. You just look like a action figure who was left at the bottom of the toy box for too long.” Your gaze briefly flickered over his worn out exterior.

The assassin let his head tilt back slightly and he let out a short, hoarse laugh before narrowing his eyes and smirking at you. “Funny. I like you.”

“Wish I could say the same. But considering that you murdered by parents in cold blood, I think I’ll refrain from that.”

He sucked on his teeth and winced, letting out a low whistle. “Oooo. There it is. I was wondering how long it would take before you brought that up. Two and a half minutes. Not too bad,” he mocked, and you felt your calmness start to falter.

Recognizing that he was just trying to push your buttons, you breathed in deeply and avoided tearing into him, as much as you wanted to. He, on the other hand, took this opportunity to speak again.

“For what it’s worth, I didn’t want to kill your parents. Not really. But it was a necessary evil. If I hadn’t have done it, SHIELD wouldn’t have taken you in, and you and I wouldn’t be having this wonderful conversation right now,” he spoke with a smile, as if his words were nothing more than just that. Words.

You swiped your palms downward on your jeans and ran your tongue over your lips, taking another small step forward.

“Right. And would you mind letting me in on why exactly it is that this conversation of ours is so necessary to have? It better be fucking worth it, because I only broke about – oh, seven – rules to get in here and I reckon we have five minutes before a bunch of agents come bursting through that door. And that’s being generous. So I suggest you start talking,” you hissed, making him widen his eyes and grin, clearly impressed by your assertiveness.

“Hmph. You really are somethin’, snowflake,” he murmured before raising his brows and opening his hands, “Alright then. Guess I’ll just cut right to the chase.”

“Please do,” you encouraged, shifting your weight from one foot to the other and folding your arms over your chest, your face portraying expectance.

“Basically, everything that SHIELD has ever told you is a lie. You think that they’re keeping you under surveillance and not allowing you to communicate with everyone to ensure your safety? No. They’re trying to keep you from finding out the truth. That’s why they wouldn’t let you come and see me, ‘cause they knew that I’d tell you everything.”

“So what are they keeping from me?”

He answered without a moment’s hesitation, the words spilling from his lips with such ease that it became evident that he had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“You’re a demi-god.”

You leaned forward with a frown, not sure you had heard him correctly. “I’m a what?”

“A demi-god,” he repeated, enunciating each syllable slowly and clearly.

There was no room for mistakes; you’d definitely heard him correctly that time.

“Well, if we’re being technical, you’re a demi-goddess. They’re these… well, gods that live in the Nine Realms. They have tons of supernatural abilities. The most powerful ones live on Asgard,” he rattled off, darting his eyes and tilting his head side to side in a clear display of almost boredom, “They’re practically immortal, have unique powers-“

“I know what a demi-god is,” you interjected, closing your eyes for a second and shaking your head, “But… how could I be one? It’s impossible. I’m a mortal.”

“Are you, though?” he questioned, and the surety in his voice made your stomach twist, “(Y/N), how much do you really know about how and why you came into this world?”

“What kind of question is that?” you scoffed.

“A very important one, in this case,” he said. Noticing your utterly perplexed expression, he sighed. “Oh, come on, gorgeous. You know how unusual your life has been. All the secrecy, all the lies, the constant moving around… you couldn’t possibly have thought that was all just part of the job.”

“It is part of the job,” you argued, forehead creasing as you spoke.

“To an extent, yes,” he nodded, arching his boys to indicate that he agreed, “But the level you were on… that shit was way more intense than regular spy stuff. Your family had to take extra precautions, go through additional protocol – all to warrant the insurmountable protection and seclusion you had to endure.”

“Are you going to make a point, here?” you huffed, taking a step closer to the glass and frowning at the Hydra assailant on the other side, “Because I have way better things to do than to listen to you run your mouth about how isolated I was while growing up.”

His lips twitched into a slight smirk before he continued. “You’re special, (Y/N). More so than you could ever imagine. I’m sure that you’ve picked up on that, and I’m willing to bet everything I have that you’ve been wracking your brain trying to figure out why it is that everyone seems to be so obsessed with you.”

Your gaze flickered away momentarily as his words filtered through your ears. He was absolutely right; from the very first second that you stepped foot on SHIELD property, you had been made top priority – in every sense of the word. Everything anyone said, or did, seemed to be connected to you somehow, and not knowing why had been driving you crazy.

“Look,” The Asset’s voice snapped you out of your trance, “like you said, we don’t have much time before the reinforcements show up, so I’m going to try and make this quick.”

He cleared his throat for dramatic effect, making you roll your eyes and groan softly.

“I’ve already told you what you are, (Y/N). Your real name is Skadi, Goddess of Winter and of the Hunt. You’re a demi-god, and a damn powerful one at that. But your father…” he chuckled, “he was even stronger. Vili, God of Motivation, brother to Odin and Vè, Defender of Asgard, and Protector of the Tesseract – his power was unmatched here on Earth.”

The assassin let out a long breath.

“Now, this entire thing’s quite complicated, but I assume you know about Snowflake, correct?” You nodded, and he continued. “Its real name is the Tesseract and we don’t have the time to go into detail about it, but all you need to know is that a few hundred years ago, during a rather intense battle, it fell from Asgard to Earth. Obviously, as the protector of the cube, Vili descended to Earth, where he then chose to stay. Somewhere along the line, he met your mother, and thus began the slew of lies known as your life here on Earth.”

Your mind was racing at this point, your heart was hammering so hard you were afraid it would break out of your chest, and your breathing was fast and shallow. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, you just couldn’t. None of it seemed at all possible, and you were struggling to even begin to fathom what the implications would be if everything did prove true.

You remember reading about Vili – and the Tesseract – in your father’s journal, but to think that the Norse god in question was your father? The mere thought of it made your head spin.

“You’re lying,” you said, voice sounding incredibly small and weak.

“Oh, but I’m not,” he insisted, leaning forward as much as he could, “and you know it, (Y/N). C’mon. There’s a part of you that knows everything I’m saying is true. Just think about it. Demi-gods have special abilities.”

You frowned again, and when he started rattling off all the abilities, you were struck with tiny flashbacks.

“Superhuman strength…”

Having an argument with your parents as a teenager and slamming the armoured SUV car door so hard it came clean off of the hinges. Knocking your rock hard bodyguard to the ground with a single kick. Taking out a group of qualified SHIELD agents all on your own.

“Resistance to physical injury…”

Falling to the floor after a particularly hard hit to the ribs and not feeling anything more than discomfort. Not even having a bruise the next day.

“And of course, the big Kahuna – and an ability unique to you, Goddess of Winter – an incredible resistance to cold.”

Twice in your life you had been in situations where you should’ve died from hypothermia. Once when you were little and once only a few days ago. Both times you survived. And you hadn’t felt the least bit cold.

A wave of nausea radiated through your body, as you became light headed. Grabbing onto the edge of the glass cage, you had to press your free hand to the glass to steady yourself and not fall over.

“I can’t believe it…” you mumbled, not at all knowing what to think or feel.

“(Y/N), you’re exceptionally powerful. You have abilities that people would kill for. And they have.”

“They lied to me,” you said, although you were speaking more to yourself than to the assassin, “About everything. They told me that they were protecting me but they were just… lying to me. Over and over again.”

“They’re trying to keep you from realising your potential. You have no idea how strong you could become. Hell, you could take over the world if you wanted to. But they’re trying to keep you locked up, away from everyone and everything, and trying to figure out a way to make sure that you never get a taste of that power inside of you. But you can change that. Challenge them. Refuse to be held in here any longer.”

The anger you were trying so desperately to keep at bay was erupting, and you felt yourself being filled with more rage than you’d ever experienced before. Rage at everyone. At your father, at The Director, SHIELD, Hydra, the assassin in front of you, Brendon…

With an animalistic growl, you struck the glass, creating a resounding bang that echoed throughout the room before turning around and stalking off to The Director’s office, anger practically radiating off of you.

The Asset watched you rush off with a triumphant smile on his lips. His mission was complete.

_______________________________

Thank you for reading x

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[kayhasablogproblem]

You forget how lonely it was. When you cried, nobody heard. When you laughed, nobody cared. Every time kids younger than you fantasised about life outside, or talked about their new adoptive parents, their words cut into you. That would never be you. You weren’t wanted.

Even when against the odds, you were adopted, it wasn’t like what you imagined. You weren’t bought brand new toys of your own. They didn’t fuss and dote over you every minute of the day. You’d grown out of that. Or, at least, you were supposed to. But it’s not time that wears these desires away – it’s experience. And nobody had truly loved you before.

But you kept your head high. Just because it wasn’t perfect, it didn’t mean that you had to resign yourself to a lifetime of misery. 11 years had been enough. You know you loved your parents more than anything in the world – back then. You thought that they felt the same, until you were overshadowed. Cast aside. Forgotten.

Your sister was everything that your father had always wanted – his own child, flesh and blood. You weren’t good enough anymore. You wondered if you ever had been in the first place. He’d never treated you the way your mom treated you. You wouldn’t quite realise how little he loved you until a few years later.

You got your fresh start. A family, and a new school. People told you that you would be putting the past behind you, and forgetting all about it. You smiled and nodded to their faces, but laughed behind their backs. There was no way you could forget it. It was a part of who you are.

You admit, at this point in time you had little optimism left. You’d become used to disappointments. And while it was rough, you knew that almost everyone around you was going through the same shit you were. For once, you weren’t being left behind. And somehow, you found friends. You fit in. You found a little bit of happiness.

Marie Stanton. What a mess she was in your life, and when you first met her, you had no idea. She was smart, she was beautiful, she was popular. She lingered on the edge of your social circle, where it intersected hers. Because of course, it revolved around her. Everyone loved her, including you, you thought. And in a sea of lovers, it was you she chose. You wonder now how much better things would have been if she chose someone else. Anyone else.

Back then, her love felt like a blessing. You thought that this was how it should be. It didn’t quite feel how people said it should, but you’d learned that nothing in life was like people said it would be. You didn’t notice what was missing. For the very first time in your life, you had too little love to give, and you were receiving far too much in return.

Your wake-up call came from an unexpected place. A friend, is how you thought of him. He was a bit of an outcast, like you’d been, before you knew him. Your friends told you to be wary, to stay away from him. “He’s gay.” They always said, that word like poison in their mouths. You knew what it meant – you weren’t stupid. But you didn’t really understand why it was such a bad thing. You still don’t, but that’s a different story.

It’s not like you could avoid him – you shared the field as part of the baseball team. It’s part of what got you to your high social status, but evidently that trick didn’t work for everyone. But you could have avoided becoming so close. You didn’t have to share those looks, and feel that spark that you couldn’t identify. You didn’t have to laugh with him with the happiness that made you both feel so warm inside. But because you did those things, there was nothing you could do to stop you falling head-first in love with him.

It scared you. On one hand, how drastically you’d overestimated your feelings for Marie – you didn’t really understand love until you’d felt it. And it wasn’t for her.

On the other, your own life. You knew how Kalis was treated. He was constantly mocked, teased, and had no friends outside of the team. You were scared to be treated like him. You didn’t want to lose what you had. Sure, it was selfish, but before you got to High School, you didn’t have friends. You had one. And you’d left her behind.

You didn’t know how to tell her. You didn’t know how to tell him. And maybe the sensible option at the time would have been to keep it to yourself, but feelings and love never cared about what was sensible. You were so lost and confused that you felt as if you had to tell somebody. And you knew you were screwed from the start when you were asking yourself who wouldn’t attack you for it.

But even with your careful planning and secrecy, you could never have known how it actually happened. It was just a kiss. That’s all it should have been. The problem was, it was a kiss that confirmed every single one of your suspicions and threw you right in at the deep end. There wasn’t a plan B anymore. You were in love with Kalis Lait, and Marie didn’t have a fucking clue.

She took it about as well as you expected – i.e. badly. The moment you told her, the guilt washed over you all over again, even worse than before. And then, the fear set in. Who would she tell? What would happen to you if everyone knew? Would everything you’d worked so hard for be lost?

Some of those questions took longer to be answered than you thought, because she told no-one. As much as it crushed her, shattered her heart into pieces, she spared you. She took the hit for you; when you made your break up public, she took the blame. When she was most emotionally vulnerable, she played the villain, to give you the sympathy. You didn’t deserve it. With every misguided gesture of comfort, your lies dug deeper into you. You knew it would only be a matter of time before they knew the truth.

Those months were the longest of your life. You watched her fall as you rose, and each day you fell deeper and deeper in love. You wanted to declare your love to everyone you met, but knew that those heartfelt words might be the last you ever spoke. So the two of you hid.

Whilst every covert kiss in a hiding place felt magical and exciting, it hurt to keep it to yourself. There were so many close calls. Every insult to Marie, every kiss when you thought the coast was clear, and every snide homophobic comment, particularly those aimed at your secret lover, set you on edge. You quickly learned how tiring it was to pretend to be a heterosexual.

The baseball team were the first to find out. It was inevitable recently; it was hard to miss the not-so-subtle flirting leading up to your and Kalis’ first kiss. And, thank fuck, they didn’t care. Baseball practice became your safe haven. It was like a different world to everything outside of the field. Sure, they soon tired of your stupid innuendos and gay jokes, but no more than one tires of puns. (Unbelievable, I know, but apparently it happens.)

You reached the calm before the storm. With somewhere you could both be free, you relaxed. The times when you had to hide became so much more bearable. You felt that things were finally looking up again for you. You became too careless.

It was the day of a major home game. Everyone piled into the stands. All of your friends came to watch, even those you knew would hate you if they knew the truth. All eyes were on you.

As you’d been trained, you quickly forgot that. The pressure fell away, and it was like you were just back in practice. Which was all well and good, except practice usually involved meaningful looks, winks, and sometimes a whole lot more. Just as you were walking off the field, you shared a kiss – quick, but loving. People saw.

You realised you fucked up the moment the murmurs rose up from the crowd. You should not have done that. Finn’s look of abject horror further confirmed this, as unnecessary as that was. But in that moment, your only sensible option was to pretend like it didn’t happen.

When the game finally ended, you did the only thing you could: you ran. If you made it home without seeing anyone else, you wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout until tomorrow.

Tomorrow came far too soon. So you bought every second of time you could. You avoided crowds, you kept your head down, you refused to make eye contact. And somehow, the words managed to wash over you.

But there was nothing stopping you from getting punched in the face. No really, that actually happened, the moment you left the school gates. Your fall from grace marked by your face on the tarmac. You didn’t quite realise what was happening until you were lying on the ground, the whole world spinning, and the shouts growing louder in your ringing ears.

And that was the beginning. If you had a dollar for every time you were assaulted, you might have actually had enough money to tend to your injuries properly. Instead, the two of you mopped up the blood with your kitchen towels, eyes on the clock, counting down the seconds until your safe haven would be safe no more.

But at least Marie was welcomed back into her circles with open arms. How the tables turned, her comforted, and you cast out and shunned. Maybe the reception might not have been so warm if she had revealed that she lied to protect you.

These were the worst days of your life, but at the very least Kalis stood by your side. In fact, the whole baseball team did, providing distractions and confronting your harassers, to improve the chances of the two of you having a safe journey home. Not that it ever really worked, but it gave you more strength to withstand the punches.

But the worst of them came when you had to face it alone. Your father’s palm colliding with the spot where so many others had before, deepening your near-permanent bruise. In that moment, your worst fears were confirmed. ‘At least you’re not really my son.’ It was then that you started counting the days until you left home.

Your final summer in Asterdale was a whirlwind. You hoped being away from school would give your bruises time to heal, and it did, but you had to watch out for the fists waiting in the alleyways and behind the fences of your neighbourhood. But at least you had an escape plan – on the 4th of September, you and Kalis would start your first semester at Richmond Valley college.

Stepping into your dorm room was like taking the first step into freedom. A chance to start over, where nobody knew who you were or where you came from. But it wasn’t perfect – to stay safe, you had to hide who you were, or learn who at Richmond could hit the hardest.

And while you did manage it, second year came as a painful reminder of just how careful you had to be. I started innocently enough – just your typical college party, complete with underage drinking, and skirts so short they may as well not have been there. It really wasn’t your thing, and you and Kalis left early, and were glad of it when Phillip Greenbriar from down the hall stopped by your dorm with tales of just how many shots Stacy Darlington had, and exactly who vomited in the hallway. But all of that paled in comparison with his final anecdote – making out with Jason Merriweather, aka the heartthrob of Richmond Valley.

He didn’t brag, in fact he was very careful, making sure there was nobody else around in earshot, and even then saying it under his breath. No, he wasn’t showing off at all. It was both a moment of solidarity, and a cry for help. I mean, what else do you do when you make out with the definitely heterosexual swim team captain, who is so drunk he thinks he’s kissing his definitely heterosexual female crush, and you’ve caught feelings? Of course you go and talk to the gay couple down the hallway.

And while you feel warmth in your chest knowing that you and Kalis aren’t alone at Richmond, you feel the tightness that goes along with the fear of being exposed to the world once more. So you advise Phillip to lie low, and hope everyone at that party was far too drunk to notice.

They most definitely were not.

All anyone was talking about in class the next morning was either how crippling their hangover was, or Jason Merriweather making out with a guy at that party. Nobody thought hot, popular Jason might be gay, but there was the evidence, in plain sight.

The next few weeks were like an out of body experience and a flashback rolled into one – his plummeting popularity and loss of everything he knew like a mirror image of your own, but worse. At least you were technically at fault for yours. At least you had the baseball team at your back. At least you had Kalis. Jason had nothing.

Somehow, Phillip escaped unscathed – nobody knew him well enough to have recognised his face buried in Jason’s. But the guilt was destroying him. Jason was an innocent victim to all of this – he was blackout drunk while Phillip was completely sober.

So Phillip tried to make things right – he went to the pool while Jason was training alone. He was aware that he was the last person Jason wanted to see, but he knew it was the right thing to do.

You never found out exactly what happened, but it wasn’t your place. The gist of it was that the heterosexual hottie maybe wasn’t so heterosexual. Definitely still hot though. If you weren’t taken, daaamn youd’ve tapped that.

But true love doesn’t always save the day, and there isn’t always a happy ending. Things got so bad for Phillip and Jason that they fled the college, and you never saw either of them again. You hope things worked out for them in the end, but honestly, who knows what happened to them.

The remainder of your college years were spent trying to remain inconspicuous, staying silent when anyone mentioned Jason Merriweather, or that kid from your dorm block who disappeared at the same time as him. You didn’t want to follow in their footsteps.

Then came the day that simultaneously turned your world upside down, and explained everything at the same time. A strange pink haired girl you’d never seen before, but looked too old to be a freshman, approached you. She knew your name, and where you were from, but knew surprisingly little about who you were. But she knew more about you than you did.

Her words were confusing at first – that it had taken so long to find you, that you were so different to all the others, that you didn’t really make sense. You laughed at that last one, you knew that to be true. She then said everything that you already knew – that you didn’t belong.

She said you were a glitch. A glitch in what, you asked. You learned that you were a glitch in the universe – a person lost in space and time, who belonged nowhere, but wandered aimlessly through reality. And you learned you weren’t alone – there were eight others like you. You were the ninth. The girl who was telling you this, Coral, was the fifth.

But you were unique, even among the glitches. You seemed like a normal person – nobody questions a two year old turning up out of the blue in a city of broken families and neglected children. So it had taken around 17 years for anyone to notice that you came from nowhere. Coral then said she didn’t want to overwhelm you with anything else, and left you with a phone with her name in, and a warning that many of the other glitches don’t stay in one place for long, and that your time may be coming to an end.

Her words scared you – being whisked away to another place and time almost certainly meant leaving your love behind. But everything else she said was a huge relief – you didn’t belong, and that was okay. You were a strange anomaly of the universe. And you never did end up taken from the world you called home. Not yet, at least.

Finally, your time at Richmond Valley drew to a close, but for the first time in your life, you had little hope for what lay ahead. Your knowledge of your identity wasn’t enough to overcome the reality that you lived in a world that wanted you dead.

After college, you and Kalis didn’t know where to turn. As adults now, you could no longer share a house, or be as close as you were, without raising suspicions. You had three options. Option one was to leave each other behind, and try to survive on your own. Option two was to stay together, as a giant fuck you to the world. You wanted that so badly, but knew it would most likely cost you your lives. Option three was to run.

You chose option three. It took a long time saving, and longer still trying to find a new life somewhere you’d be safe. After years of heartache, you had a deposit on a shitty ground floor apartment in a medium sized city in Aren, and your tickets out of there.

You left without looking back. No goodbyes were exchanged. None were needed. The only person you cared about was going with you. You boarded the empty train, throwing your entire lives onto the row of seats in front of you. And for the first time in a long time, you put your arms around his shoulders, buried your head in his neck, and felt tears of relief pour out of you. You would be safe at last.

You stepped onto Aren soil in the neon-lit night. You made your way through narrow streets and wide boulevards. After a while, you finally worked up the courage to put your hand in his. Nobody stared. Nobody took any real notice. A woman passed the two of you and smiled. Things would be very different here.

When you finally arrived in your new home, you collapsed, safe and warm, into each other’s arms. You awoke the next morning knowing you had lost everything, but that you were finally, truly, getting a fresh start. Once you had unpacked and settled in, and your apartment started to feel like home, the two of you did on your first day in Aren what you had been waiting almost a decade to do – you got married.

It wasn’t glamorous, there was no ceremony, and no rings, but it was perfect. Millions of miles from home, you were finally able to be joined with your love, and not only that, you got rid of the Stockwell name that had haunted you across the years. Your honeymoon was spent curled up on your sofa-bed, experiencing queer cinema, and sampling the local cuisine (pizza from the local takeaway). You couldn’t have asked for more.

But this is the life of Percy Lait, formerly Stockwell, we’re talking about, and if you’ve learned anything so far, simple pleasures don’t last long. The next morning you received a phone call from a sobbing Marie Stanton. The two of you had stayed in touch across the years, but you couldn’t even remember the last time you’d seen her in person. And yet, here she was, spilling her heart out to you, the boy who broke her heart.

She was pregnant, and her fiancé, her family, and those she had considered friends, had abandoned her in her time of greatest need. In her desperation, you were the last person she could turn to. You explained your own situation – that you were now halfway across the universe, with almost nothing to your name, but if she could make it, you had a spare room which she was more than welcome to use.

You explained everything to Kalis. He was hesitant at first, but understood that she was in great need, and that the two of you were the only ones that could help. And he said that the two of you still owed her a great debt after she protected you back in high school, even to her own downfall.

So your newfound solitude with Kalis only lasted a few months, but you couldn’t ask for a better roommate than Marie. She had come from the same outcast status that the two of you had, into a new world where she felt she finally belonged. She was smart, funny, kind, and forgiving, and in that time, you realised that although you would never love her the way she loved you, you still loved her a great deal, and she was an important part of your life.

And when her daughter, Rosie, came along, the four of you made the strangest family, but one filled with all the love, support, and acceptance you had waited your whole lives for. You learned that happiness is family, but family has nothing to do with blood, or words on a piece of paper, but those you love, and choose to surround yourself with.

And here you lie across from the most important member of your family, recounting the story of your life. You don’t know where it will go next, but wherever it does, you know you won’t be alone. Not anymore.