#Cloud: seeing you murder people makes me sad :(

[hollowdeath]

Oh hello, I just wanted to tell you that what you wrote is amazing! I read it over and over and couldn't stop reading. You are soooo amazing! *((Ugly crying😭❤️))*

And umm.. I would like to share about the imagination in my head about Dark Harry Potter. He joins the Lord Voldemort and betrayed all his friends. When the war ended, the Lord's side Voldemort wins. Everything is in chaos but Harry ignores it all because he only cares about the reader, his old girlfriend. (Harry still loves the reader even though the reader hates Harry.) He might have requested that the Lord Voldemort gave the reader as a reward to him after the war. Something like that, and ummm, a drama that is both bitter and sad and angry at the same time full of longing for each other? A rough and sad lovemaking? 🥺

hi! thank you so much for requesting! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: dark!harry james potter x fem!reader AU (18+)

summary: harry's all-consuming anger successfully tempts him to join voldemort in the war, sending you, his girlfriend, away in an attempt to keep you safe. years later he asks for your return, and is met with bitterness and rage as you struggle to navigate your feelings for each other in a post-war world.

c/w: smut!!! angst!! slow burn! mentions/threats of weapons, violence, abuse, and death/murder. smut is all the way at the end (grinding, oral, penetration, submissive!harry & dominant!reader) lightly edited, not book/movie/canon accurate

word count: 12.6k

a/n: this is giving me manacled x star wars and i love it lol, so so so much fun to write. i tried to make the reader more angst-y and dominant than normal, so if you like this please let me know! sorry if the plot doesn't make much sense. i also started school this week so please be patient with me! going to try and start posting shorter blurbs/headcanons between requests <3

harry was standing at a window in the lord's manor, watching the street below him as people sulked aimlessly by. it was a typical, gloomy day, the clouds gathering heavily above. it had been raining for weeks, maybe even months at this point, and it was beginning to cast a permanent gray shadow across the city. not even the weather could escape the tragedies of the war.

though harry chose to not dwell on the war, he felt its lingering effects. even from his lofty spot in the comfort of the lord's castle, which he barely left anymore. its walls had become harry's second skin. so long as he had everything delivered to him whenever he desired, it was disgusting to him to even think of stepping outside.

yet still, harry could see the abandoned and damaged shops just outside the lord's gates lining the courtyard along the cobblestone streets. the burnt remains of what once was. the sunken-in faces of the remaining people in the city. the lack of light, the lack of life, the lack of magic.

there's a part of harry, a weak cry from deep inside his repressed past, that feels bad. he was once a young wizard with bright eyes walking the streets of these same shops. he once enjoyed the sounds of shared happiness, and found solace in the fact that despite his lack of, there would always be joy in the world around him.

however, as harry grew older, and the circumstances around him shifted, he found himself getting angrier more often. not just on a weekly basis over small interactions or mistakes, but all the time, from the moment he was awoken by his nightmares to the moment he fell back into them. harry simply had no room inside of him left for anything else. it was just anger. pure, unbridled anger that only caused annoyance at first, then small outbursts of irritation after a while, and, eventually, he couldn't look at anyone or anything without wanting to physically destroy it for no reason other than he was just angry.

harry was angry at the world for having magic in it in the first place. he hated the divide it caused between muggles and non-muggles, pure bloods and half bloods. he was angry that divide is what took his parents from him before he could even properly know them. he was angry he had to grow up in abuse and neglect under the guise of 'safety'. he was angry he never received an apology, an admittance of guilt, not even a hint of closure for the past that was still controlling his present.

the boy who used to risk his life to save hogwarts and the students inside of it would eventually be the same one to let them fall.

when voldemort came back, and harry's anger was at its worst, he knew there was a connection. he didn't know about horcruxes yet and he certainly didn't know he was one. and yet he knew, somewhere deep inside him again, that it wasn't a coincidence. there was a reason his anger was consuming him, and the reason was voldemort.

after cedric's death, harry had begun to spiral. the nightmares were worse than before, he felt deathly paranoid constantly, and couldn't escape the intruding memories of the graveyard. though harry had managed well enough afterwards, still suppressing his rage, he couldn't hide the change in his personality from those closest to him. ron and hermione were the first to bring it up, but, of course, harry had snapped and told them to mind the business that pays them. despite his resistance, they tried until the very end to help their best friend see through his anger, to remember what was right and wrong.

however, once sirius was dead, it was all over.

harry had simply lost any hope that was left within him. watching sirius fall through the veil, his eyes lifeless and cold, was like watching harry himself die. he didn't think he could get any lower, and then he watched the only family he had left be cursed just within his reach.

harry was never the same after that. when he sat in bed late at night staring at the marauders map in his lap, he thought about how much he hated this life that's been made for him. the boy who lived, the scape goat, the hero, our only hope. it was crushing. harry was just a boy. he wanted to live a normal life.

but he knew he never could. not after tom riddle, not after cedric, not after sirius. even if everything went away tomorrow and harry could just attend his classes and be with his friends, nothing would change. he would still be alone, he would still be angry, and he would still suffer from his traumas. what was the point in fighting for good or living to see the end when you would always end up alone?

except, harry wasn't alone, really. he had you.

if there was one thing in this lifetime, one thing throughout this entire war that could have saved harry, it was you.

you and harry had been classmates for a year or so before really getting to know each other, and started dating not long after. when you were around, harry knew there was something worth fighting for. though he may feel angry and everything and everyone and everything everyone said, harry could never truly be mad with you. it's like when you looked at him the anger was muted, numb, deep inside him, and as soon as someone would interrupt it was bubbling at the surface again.

you were worried about harry, of course, and saw the effects his anger had on his relationships with everyone else around him. besides you.

he remembers you clearly, still to this day, and just how upset you were anytime he lashed out. if he'd felt anything other than anger at that time, it would've been guilt. guilt for hurting you, for scaring you. guilt, but not guilty enough to stop.

the anger was stronger.

even when you asked him, begged him, please, harry, please stop letting your anger win, and even when he promised, swore on his own grave, that he would try harder to stop for you, he never did.

harry was beyond angry. he was spiteful. all he had ever been was kind, a pushover who gave everyone the respect he was never graced with. he's saved strangers who wouldn't spit on him if he was on fire. he's lost his family in their sacrifice for the greater good that now rested upon harry's 16 year old shoulders.

he was beginning to think the fight wasn't worth it.

not only did the fight for good no longer seem worthy to harry, the fight against it only seemed to become more enticing. why should harry continue to risk his life and sanity when there would always be fights of blood purity? why should he be the hero everyone else has always wanted him to be?

for a long time, the answer was you. you were reason enough for harry to keep fighting, to keep his anger under control. when he looked at you things made sense for just a moment, his suffering was worth it to see you alive and well. until it wasn't.

everyone has a breaking point, and harry felt like he had finally reached his. as the war had geared up to a point of no return, harry had to make a decision. he had always assumed his decision was already made for him since birth, but he soon realized he never actually had to follow this path set for him in the first place. he was free to do as he pleased. he wasn't dumbledore, he wasn't his parents, he wasn't even the hero everyone thought he was. he was angry. he was spiteful.

worse than that, harry was vengeful.

so, when he met voldemort in the woods during the battle of hogwarts to accept his death, harry instead offered him a proposal the dark lord simply couldn't refuse. harry potter, his living horcrux, would become his successor upon his death. harry would fight with and for voldemort, training to become the most powerful dark wizard in history, and to finally let tom riddle rest well knowing the world was in just as dark, evil hands as his own.

though voldemort was skeptical at first, naturally, as harry expected him to be, he could eventually see the darkness within harry nearly consuming him whole. he was as serious as death itself. he no longer had the desire within him to continue fighting for, what he saw as, a lost cause. voldemort was rather pleased with this news, though never expected harry to come around like he did. he hadn't even considered it, really. but who was he to deny his own successor?

upon harry's return to hogwarts with voldemort and his death eaters in tow, every single person who watched was stunned into silence. even mcgonagall, who had been instructing and encouraging the students all night in their fight, had become speechless and teary eyed at the sight. ron had to catch hermione, who nearly fell to the floor.

but nobody was as upset as you were.

you had already been sobbing watching harry walk off into the woods towards his own death thinking you would never see him alive again. only to watch him emerge from the same treeline with the enemy by his side. it's like you got kicked in the gut. you would've almost rather never seen harry again.

"harry!" you had screamed in a broken voice as he crossed the bridge, voldemort's snake slithering at his feet. you were running to him, breaking through the multiple arms that tried to hold you back.

voldemort tried to raise his wand to you, but harry had stopped him, telling him to let him handle it. he was suspicious at first, still not fully trusting harry's intentions just yet, but was reassured by the sinister look in his eyes.

harry looked at you. he remembers feeling a twinge of that same guilt from before, the tiniest spark of hope deep within his rage. he really did love you, at least at some point he did. you would've made all of this worth it, you would've been the reason to keep going. but not even you were reason enough anymore. for so long he had been ready to take his revenge on the world that failed him.

"harry, what are you doing?" you had asked him, voice shaking. you were almost whispering, your eyes nervously glancing towards voldemort every other second in fear for your safety. harry grabbed your hands but you pulled them back, a look of disgust coming across your face.

"come with me." harry had told you. your look of disgusted transformed into shock, anger, confusion, and guilt. there were mumblings coming from the crowd of students behind you. "what?" you had asked, nearly breathless at this point, your eyes searching him for answers.

"come with me, [y/n]. i want you by my side as i become the most powerful dark lord in the world." harry explained, taking steps towards you with an excited grin on his face, his eyes still dark with corruption. you were still in shock when he grabbed for your hands. he kissed your knuckles softly with a quiet, "i love you,"

he had meant it, but not like he used to.

it took a few moments of silence and some tense eye contact before you pulled your hands away, letting the tears fall again as you attempted to gather your words. "you can't do this, harry. i will never join the dark lord. you know this isn't right, why are you doing this? why? why?" you're practically begging for an answer as harry looked away, an irritated expression on his face, clenching his jaw together. your hands reached for his shirt and jacket, trying to shake some sense into him as you grasped them tightly and pulled him closer.

"don't you love me?" you had asked him in the most heartbreaking, soul crushing voice. your words were weak, but your sentiment was palpable. you were bloody, dirty, covered in scars from fighting, holding harry close to you as you begged him with wide eyes. not too much earlier in the year he would've folded immediately looking at you, so innocent and desperate, his last bit of hope in the world.

but it was already far too late.

"take her to azkaban," harry had announced, angling his head back to the deatheaters behind him, keeping his eyes locked with yours. your grip on his clothes loosened and shocked gasps came from the crowd. harry looked at voldemort, who was a bit puzzled by the situation, but backed up harry's real nonetheless. "you heard the boy," he snapped towards the men behind him.

the deatheaters walked towards you as you stepped away from harry. "no, no, no, stop!" you were screaming, trying to back away from them, but they had grabbed your arms aggressively and began dragging you towards the bridge. "[y/n]!" a few students had shouted, running towards you before their attempts were blocked by a wave of voldemort's wand. the students fell to the ground, watching helplessly as you continued to fight your way out of the deatheaters' grasps. harry stood still, emotionless, completely stoic as he heard your desperate wails and calls for his name disappear into the woods behind him.

the rest of that night or day or whatever it was has since been completely blocked out of harry's mind, forever. his rage had reached a level he didn't know was possible. all he could recall anymore is the blood, the screaming, the running, and the light of his wand in his hand. many students and professors died during that battle at his hand, along with voldemort's and the deatheaters'. the castle was then burned to the ground, signifying the end of the battle. hogwarts had never stood a chance.

and, now, harry stands in the dark lord's manor, staring at the abandoned buildings lining his street, and he's thinking of you.

he often wondered how life would have been if you had joined him that day. though his years since have been packed with death, fights, destruction, and chaos, there were moments alone or in peril where you crossed his mind like a gentle breeze. a simpler part of his past, a light in his darkness. your soft, kind eyes, wide with shock as you back away from him, fixated on the deatheaters coming to collect you. your sweet, melodic voice screaming and breaking as you were dragged away, fighting for your freedom. harry could remember the moment perfectly despite everything else in his life being a blur.

he wonders how you would have filled the role as his partner in crime after choosing him. two dark lords unstoppable against the forces of the wizarding world, fighting 'good' and spreading evil just as he had been this whole time. would you have succumbed easily to the temptation? would you be as dark as harry was? could you maybe even be darker?

but harry knew it was a fruitless endeavor from the beginning. he had wanted to ask you anyways, to at least give you a chance to make the decision to be with him, even if he already knew what your response would be. harry was a bit let down at first, hoping maybe there was enough love between you to push morals aside, but he knew he would never be that lucky. part of why he fell in love with you way before his anger began was your commitment and dedication to what you believed was right. that same trait would be the driving force behind his decision to lock you away.

harry knew you. and he knew you wouldn't stop fighting until your body gave out, and maybe even after that. he may have lost you by sending you to azkaban for the foreseeable future of the war, but he'd rather know you were safe somewhere solitary than spend his years wondering where your dead body had been rotting into the dirt all this time. though azkaban was desolate, dark, isolated, and torturous, it allowed harry to sleep at night thinking of your still-beating heart resting safely behind those impenetrable walls.

lately his nights had become more restless, though, as the thought of you still residing in azkaban began to sit with him. he didn't feel guilt, really, he knew it was what was ultimately best for you. but he did miss you.

after the war had died down and voldemort took his place as the rightful dark lord of the world, harry's anger began to subside for the first time in years. rather than rage fueling his insatiable desire to destroy, he felt incredibly numb and disengaged with everything around him. the desolate streets and grim sky and abandoned city outside the windows began to fit his mental state more and more. for the first time since he was a teenager, harry could see past the anger.

and all he wanted was you.

so, harry had reached out to the dark lord, who spent most of his time at his new ministry castle across the country from the old manor he let harry watch over. they communicated every so often, checking in on business and social matters, but otherwise never had to meet in person. 

harry sent him a letter asking for your release and direct delivery to his household, barring from reason. he felt after the war he had lead with and for voldemort, he owed harry a singular favor all these years later.

it only took 2 days for a confirmation letter to be sent back to harry, signed by voldemort himself, dating your arrival for the next day.

harry had his house elf, jinx, make up your room, asking her to be sure it was comfortable and clean before your delivery tomorrow afternoon, and to also provide plenty of options for dinner.

harry spent all night thinking about you, wondering what you'd look like after all this time. how similar or different you would be from what he remembers. how you'd react to seeing him. he knew you well enough to know you wouldn't react well, likely needing an extended period of alone time to adjust being here before he'd ever get a civil moment with you. but he was up for the challenge, otherwise he'd never ask for your return in the first place. he was releasing his anger, and instead building his patience, if not just to hold you one more time.

there was a delicious smell filling the mansion as the clock drew nearer to your arrival. harry was dressed better than he had been in years, and had jinx make the usually desolate looking building feel warm and inviting. fireplaces roaring, warm lamps flooding the hallways, and the grand dining table set to perfection for 2 particular guests.

harry didn't want to make it too obvious, but it was hard for him to hide how excited he was to see you again. even if you were different, even if you hated him, all he wanted was to see you in person, his eyes locking with yours for the first time since the day you were dragged away at his command.

once the hour was upon him, harry could hear footsteps and voices on the second floor. his heart leaped, setting down his glass of wine before heading for the stairs.

"let go of me, let go of me," a strained voice was crying down the hall, the sounds of a struggle coming from harry's left. he saw two house elves, rather squat and bulky, holding onto the arms of a frail body covered in a simple striped prison dress.

one elf turned to harry and gave him a devilish grin, "ah, there's the man himself!" he growled, his partner turning as well. "sorry we were late, mr. potter, someone here wasn't too keen on leaving azkaban, for some reason," he apologizes, pulling at the arm he's holding.

you slowly turn your head and stop struggling, your eyes wide with fear and mouth dropped open. "harry?" you whispered to yourself, your knees nearly giving out beneath you before the elves aggressively pulled you back up.

the first elf groans, rolling his eyes at you. "where can we put her, huh?" he asks, his tone impatient. harry pulls a few gold coins out of his pocket and hands them over to both of the elves. "right here is just fine. thank you, boys," he tells them.

the elves happily accept the tips and drop you to the ground, quickly disappearing in a flash.

you're left heavily breathing on the floor of the hall, sniffling and groaning in pain before diverting your attention to harry. your eyes were still wide, your eyebrows creased in confusion as you tried to move yourself further away from him on your hands and knees.

harry gave you your space, but watched intently as you nervously increased the distance between both of you. your hair was long, tangled, greasy, and falling around you like a curtain. you were smaller than he remembered, your eyes sunken in and cheeks more hollowed than before. you were pale, and visibly dirty. the soles of your feet were nearly black.

harry felt a pain in his stomach, his blood pressure rising imagining how you lived inside the walls of the prison. he couldn't identify the feeling. it was different from anger, but it wasn't far off.

as you continued to back up, your eyes shifted to a widow on your right. you slowly gained the energy to lift yourself and reach for the window, throwing it open before attempting to stick your hand out.

your hand hit the open window like you had never moved the glass barrier. you continued trying to stick your hand and head out, hitting at the invisible barrier with all your strength, making frustrated sounds.

"there's a spell on the house, love. you can't leave, just for now, until we can work things out," harry tried to explain gently as you continued trying to escape. he took a step towards you and you stepped away, leaning on the wall for support as you began to cry harder.

"get away from me, get away, what the fuck, what the fuck is happening," you tried to shout at him, your faced turned away and other arm putting distance between you and harry. you were gasping for air, your voice stressed and broken, shaking your head as you tried to continue backing up into the wall.

harry still attempted to give you your space. he hated to see you like this. you were so defensive and scared of everything going on around you. he wanted to give you time to calm down, but felt you needed to know what was going on.

"[y/n]," harry said, causing your head to snap towards him with curious eyes. your arm lowered slightly, your knees still weak beneath you. "listen to me, okay? just for a second," harry tried to ask kindly. he hadn't realized just how long it had been since he talked to someone this gently.

you continued to stand defensively, your eyes scanning harry up and down nervously as your breathing slowly started to still.

harry sighed, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before turning his attention to you again. "i know this is a lot, and i know it's confusing," he starts, his voice unexpectedly shaky. "but i asked voldemort, and i had you released from azkaban. i figured you may like a warm place to stay, so i had you brought here,"

you still looked confused for a moment before you narrowed your eyes, your arm coming up once again to defend yourself. "what are you talking about? where are we?" you asked harry suspiciously, still scanning him from head to toe.

"my manor. well, the lord's manor, but, essentially mine," harry says a bit awkwardly. you gave him a look of disgust, leaning further into the wall for support. "why would i want to be here? with you?" you practically spat at him with hatred in your eyes. harry was unaffected.

"i know you don't. but there's nowhere else to go. i promise." harry tells you solemnly. your eyes widen a bit again, a flash of fear coming across your face, but the anger quickly returns.

"i'd rather live in rubble than prop my feet up in the dark lord's manor," you say sharply, taking a step towards him in attempt to intimidate him. though you weren't much shorter than harry, you were weak, and tired, and he wasn't necessarily afraid of your threats.

he took a step back anyways, giving you more space. "look," he says, his eyes turning to the floor before he can steady his breathing and reply. "it's just for now. if you really don't want to stay, i won't make you." he says softly before returning his eyes to yours. they're not as bright as he remembers them in his dreams about you.

"but," he says, causing your jaw to clench. "you will stay until you're well again. and it's not up for debate." harry tells you firmly, his tone not as gentle as before.

you swallow harshly, your stomach growling audibly as the smell of the food downstairs begins to settle into your senses.

harry notices this and smirks to himself before quickly returning to a neutral state. "now," he announces, straightening out his blazer. "until the food is ready, there's a room made up for you just down this hall and to your left. it has a bathroom, and clothes. take all the time you need." he says before promptly turning on his heels and heading downstairs, his heart still racing from his encounter with you.

sitting in the living room watching the fireplace in front of him, harry eventually hears the door of your new bedroom click open and swiftly close. not long after he can hear the plumbing rumble as you take your first shower. he smiles at the fact that you're finally in his life once more, even if the circumstances were completely unusual.

harry's nearly concerned and wanting to send jinx to check on you after 2 hours of running water before it stops, the sound of the bathroom fan taking its place. harry's relieved.

"jinx, could tell our guest the foods ready," harry tells the elf as she brings the last tray from the kitchen to the dining room. she nods to herself, shuffling up the stairs sluggishly.

harry's pouring another glass of wine in the kitchen and decides to pour you one as well. on his way into the dining room, he sees you standing in the entryway. you're dressed in a large jumper, oversized pajamas bottoms, and your hair is still rather wet plopped into a bun on top of your head. your skin is rubbed raw, your cheeks still flushed pink as you analyze the table full of food in front of you.

harry smiles at your shocked gaze, your stomach growling again as he tries to hand you your glass of wine. you turn your nose at him, taking a step back. he smiles curtly and heads to his seat, setting your glass with his.

"figured you might be hungry," harry says as he sits down, his plate made for him already. he looks at you, arms still crossed, nose turned away, but eyes peeking at the endless food at your disposal. he can tell you're trying to keep your guard up, but your stomach hasn't stopped rumbling since you came downstairs.

he gestures to your chair just across from him, a plate made for you as well. you look at him, your eyes curious but expression still tight. you carefully take a step closer to the table, but you're still weary.

harry gives you a sympathetic smile. "after tonight you can have any meal you want in your solitude. i just thought i'd be nice and host my guest for the first night," he tells you, catching your gaze.

your curious look quickly turns to one of anger. "i'm not your guest. i'm practically a prisoner again." you hiss, your eyes boring into his with contempt. harry can sense the rage building inside of you. he's familiar with the feeling.

though you were different in so many ways, your dull eyes and lifeless voice, you were also similar in your determined attitude. you had always been the type to stand up and take charge, which harry completely admired and was impressed by. he found your beauty to be most potent in your strong will and cunning mind.

he admired you for just a moment, looking down at him with enough hatred to send shivers over his body. you looked so young, your skin supple and smooth under the light of the candles and fireplace, your hair falling loosely to frame your furrowed brow. you were just as pretty as he remembered, even if your expression always contained a hint of sadness and fear around him.

harry simply smiles softly, sitting back in his chair. "i prefer guest," he says teasingly. you suddenly snap at him, grabbing for his steak knife and pushing your arm to his neck against the back of the chair, holding the point of the knife to the side of his neck.

if looks could kill, the knife would've been unnecessary. your eyes were nearly black as you shakily push against harry's throat. "let me out of here now or i swear, harry," your voice cracks saying his name. "i swear i'll fucking kill you," you spit, leaning further into your grasp him on, your jaw clenched tightly.

harry, to your surprise, just chuckles to himself, not even struggling to breathe as he looks up at you deviously. your eyes widen just before you feel your arms start to move for you, as well as your legs. your neck is strained as well, an invisible force pushing you away from harry as the knife drops from your hand.

you're suddenly released from the mysterious grasp, and you choke out a breath, looking back at harry. he's smirking, but trying not to let you see as his pointed hand lowers from you. he fixes his shirt and chair, gesturing again to your seat across from him. "as thrilling as that was, love, not yet. i'd like you to stay here for at least a month before i consider placing you elsewhere." harry states, picking his knife back up to place on the table.

you stare at harry incredulously. "a month?" you ask, your face turning red again. you take another step towards him but you falter in fear of him using the same force as before to stop you. you stumble as your mind races to gather your thoughts. "how…you…i'm not staying here for a month! this is insanity! how could you send me away like that and just bring me back like it was nothing? a shower and a plate of food and suddenly those 5 years in azkaban never happened?"

you're now shouting at harry with a broken voice, your emotions on high as the tears threaten to fall again. harry watches you, just watches, and simply gestures to your chair again. "just join me," he insists.

you go to yell again, but harry sternly interrupts. "we can discuss this another time. please. sit down." he commands from you.

your mask drops for a moment, a look of fear crossing your face before diverting your eyes away completely to your chair. your stomach growls again, your hand covering it to hide the sound.

it takes a few moments until you slowly make your way to sit down, glancing at harry before taking your seat. harry begins eating silently, and, not long after, you're digging into your first real plate of food in years.

harry can't help but smile to himself subtly watching you indulge yourself for a moment, the mask slipping again as you gratefully shovel spoonfuls of food into your mouth with a sigh of relief. he was glad you were eating, even if he had to put up a bit of a fight to convince you.

as harry finishes up, you're still making your way through your second plate. he stands, grabbing your attention and making you curl back into your seat. "jinx," he calls out before sipping the last of his wine. jinx comes to the table and grabs harry's glass and plate, turning to take them to the kitchen. 

"[y/n], this is jinx," harry motions to the elf, who gives you a warm smile. you return the smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "if you ever need anything, anything at all, don't be afraid to ask her. she lives to serve," harry tells you proudly, earning a slight look of disgust from you before returning a smile at jinx.

"this was a lovely dinner, ms. jinx, thank you so much, truly," you thank her honestly. she bows to you slightly before continuing her way through the doors to the kitchen.

you shoot harry a glare. "the harry i knew would've never kept a house elf," you say, your words dripping with disdain. harry ignores your statement, turning to the stairs before ascending them.

he leaves you alone at the dining table, closing himself off in the master bedroom for the night. just as he's finishing up brushing his teeth, he hears your door click shut. that night he fell asleep feeling more reassured than he had in years knowing the pretty girl he couldn't keep his mind off of was asleep just down the hall from him.

it had been a few weeks since harry moved you in, and he rarely ended up seeing you in the mansion. you were often locked away in your room, or taking showers, and harry only ever saw you when you were finishing up a meal with jinx.

you had become quite close with her, it seems, which harry found sweet. he was worried at first that you may be using jinx as a way to find an escape from the house, but after a while without incident, harry realized how silly the idea was. you truly could connect with anyone.

one of the only other times he saw you, though, was when he passed by the open library one night. harry had been restless, thinking about his past in depth, feeling emotions he couldn't place, and decided to watch the sunrise to clear his head. he took a quick glance through the doors before spotting you curled up on one of the couches, a book in hand, fast asleep beside a warm lamp.

harry stopped, taking a moment to admire you from afar. you had gained some weight back being here, which harry loved to see. your cheeks were full and rounded, your hands not as frail, and the color was coming back to your skin. your hair looked impossibly soft under the light, sprawled everywhere around your angelic, sleeping face. harry couldn't help the cheesy smile that overcame his face. he was just happy that you were okay.

outside of that, harry spent most of his time alone, thinking about you. you hadn't reached out to him yet, which he expected, but was surprised when a month came and went and you still didn't confront him. he hadn't made his decision just yet, so he didn't have an answer for you even if you had asked him. he saw you were doing better, but still wasn't confident in letting you go. not just for selfish reasons, of course, but he wanted to be sure you were equipped enough to live on your own.

but, harry had to admit, his heart raced when he heard your soft footsteps pass his door to the stairs. his mind went blank seeing your figure standing in the dining room with jinx, chatting over a plate of snacks together. his blood ran cold when he heard your soft giggle from somewhere in the mansion. like a beautiful ghost haunting his past.

harry knew even before he sent his letter to voldemort that his feelings for you had never truly gone away. deep under his rage, his unforgiving heart, his cold blooded nature, his love for you had always remained. but he was learning to accept your departure if you chose to do so. a final goodbye to the most beautiful part of his unsightly life. harry wasn't sure he could handle the idea.

he was struggling with his thoughts, the constant back and forth he was feeling about you. at first harry was sleeping better with you there knowing you were safe, but now he stayed up late worrying himself sick over the decisions he had to make now that you were actually there.

sitting in bed, staring at the rising sun through his window, harry's mind was exhausting him. he hadn't slept all night and could feel the effects setting in. slowly, he stood from the bed and slipped on his house shoes along with his robe. he quietly leaves his room to not disturb you so early just down the hall.

he walks to the opposite end of the hall towards the balcony, and takes his usual seat facing the sunrise.

harry contemplates here most mornings, but never comes to any radical conclusions. he doesn't know what to do, he doesn't know what's best for you anymore. he knows he selfishly wants you all to himself still, but also knows you deserve to live the life you want no matter what his opinion is. it's the same conversation with himself every time, and it leaves him confused and upset for keeping you here like he is. even if his heart is in the right place.

his thoughts are interrupted by jinx, who offers harry a cup of tea. he thanks her, but quickly calls her back to ask a question. "jinx, um…[y/n], how is she doing?" he asks.

jinx, a quiet house elf, gives harry a smile, and pats his shoulder. her smile is warm and reassuring, as well as her hand. as she walks off, harry smiles to himself a bit. he's not completely satisfied with the answer, but he takes what he can get.

finishing his cup of tea with the sun shining over the horizon, harry turns to head inside before being met with the sight of you standing at the open doorway of the balcony. 

you're dressed in a simple long sleeve pajama shirt along with comfortable pants, your arms crossed as the morning chill sets into the air. harry's a bit startled at first, but gives you a polite smile, diverting his eyes and walking around you to leave you be.

"harry," you said softly, turning to him.

harry's heart dropped, but turned to you promptly with eager eyes. the way you said his name, your soft voice, he was already so captivated by you.

"can we talk?"

now harry was worried. this is what he's been afraid of since you got here. he's not ready to answer you. he doesn't know what he's going to say when you desperately ask him to leave and never come back.

"of course," he says calmly, gesturing to the balcony so you could sit together.

once you've joined him in watching the sun, you two fall into a somewhat comfortable silence as the soft wind whistles past.

"i never thanked you," you said quietly after a while, almost a whisper in the wind. harry looked at you, looking at the sunrise. your face was radiant. you were brilliant in the light of the sun, your hair still impossibly soft and beautiful, falling around you, following the flow of the air. harry was overwhelmed with the beauty your presence held in this moment. "you never had to."

you glanced at harry, studying his expression, before turning back to the sun. "it's also been a month." you state coldly. harry's gaze drops, sighing. "57 days, technically," he mumbles.

a few moments of silence pass again, leaving harry an anxious mess in his seat. he tried to think of a gentle way to let you know he still needed time to decide what to do. a way to tell you without putting his life at risk to your anger.

"well, as much as i hate to say this, you were right," you say, still watching the sunrise in deep thought. harry was shocked by your words, immediately sitting up in his seat to get a better look at your face.

you were stoic, your eyes fixated on the scene out beyond your reach. "what?" harry asked, not believing his own ears. a small smile crept to your lips, the first one he's managed to see himself since you've been here. his heart aches at just the hint of seeing it again.

"don't make me say it again, potter," you try to say threateningly with that small smile, your eyes falling to your lap.

harry is stunned into silence, watching you with careful eyes. "but, you were right. i needed time to be healthy again." you said to him, your back still turned. harry stayed quiet, allowing you to continue. "i was angry with you. i still am. i don't think it'll ever stop," you inform him, the coldness returning to your voice. "but," he was preparing himself for the rejection, the questions, the begging.

"i'd like to stay, if you'll have me," you offer in a slightly embarrassed tone, your face turned the other way.

to say harry was shocked at your request is an understatement. he was expecting you to have a plan to take him out if he had rejected your request to leave yet. he never considered the idea that you might actually want to stay with him.

"i'll have you forever, if you let me," harry responds, a small smile on his face as well. you shoot him a warning look. "not forever. just until i feel well again." you tell him, your voice cold once more. you turn back to the sun, now completely over the horizon. "figured you owe me that much," you say in an accusatory voice.

harry just smirks to himself. you could never be soft for long when he was around. but he appreciated that you felt you could ask him to stay, though you never had to in the first place. harry really would have had you forever, if you'd let him.

"stay as long as you need to." he says.

you glance back at him again, your eyes softer this time. you're analyzing him for a moment before turning to him a bit. "it took me a long time to understand why you sent me to azkaban," you tell him, your voice steady and emotionless. harry just watches you, admiring the light surrounding you.

"you would've never stood a chance in destroying the world had i been free," you state, your eyes still examining him. harry offers you another small smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes the same way. "you knew you were weak," you say.

harry's now analyzing your expression, your words swimming around in his mind. "i did," he admitted to you. "it was just easier if i knew where you were all this time," he says breathlessly.

your eyes narrow at him once more, the anger returning to your body language. "easier for you. i would've never done the same if the roles were reversed." you snapped at him harshly. harry believed you. he thought about it a lot in his nightly battles with his own mind.

"you're right," harry stated, still admiring you in your anger. you were upset, but gave harry a questioning look. your eyes softened only a bit. "i think about it all the time," he admits to you gently.

you're a bit puzzled by his admittance of guilt, but don't let it stop you. "i hope it haunts you at night the way it haunts me," you say sharply, your eyes dark.

"always has," harry says to himself, only making you more angry. "you poor thing. must've been so tough relaxing in this mansion knowing i was rotting away in solitary confinement." your voice is strong, powerful, a contrast to the broken words you gave harry your first day here.

"it was," harry says simply, sensing your rising impatience with him. you stood from your seat, towering over him as he continued watching you in wonder. "you evil little rat. you're just lucky my magic is restricted by this spell. i would've killed you in your sleep that first night." you threaten him, gesturing to the protection spell around the castle and balcony.

harry wants to stop himself, but can't keep the smirk off his face. this only angers you more, pulling your arm back and slapping harry square across his face.

he doesn't react, instead allowing himself to stay facing away from you. "i hate you," you state weakly, your hands balled at your side. harry looks at you, the smirk still playing on his lips. "i know," he says softly.

you frustratedly sit back down, turning to look back at the sunrise once more.

a long silence settles over you two, listening to the sounds of the city as it awakens around you. eventually, you stand, turning to leave harry alone on the balcony. you pause before you leave.

"i still never thanked you, harry." you speak softly, your back turned to him. he looks over at you, your curves glowing in the morning light. "you never had to," he replies, and you're off down the dark hallway.

for the next few months, you and harry live together amicably. he sees you around more often as you start to leave the confines of your room. of course the library was a place of solace for you, but he started to see you more in the living room, on the balcony, or in the dining room enjoying jinx's company. for a while you two exchanged polite greetings, simple glances and acknowledgements, before asking about each other's days, or commenting on the weather. it was agonizingly slow for harry, but he was breaking through your walls one way or another.

one day not long after you'd slapped him on the balcony, you sat in the living room with harry, across from his seat on the couch. he was surprised by your presence, but gave you a small smile over his book anyway. "jinx tells me you've been acting different," you'd stated bluntly, watching his face for a reaction.

harry put down the book he was reading, giving you his attention. "have i?" he asks. you were always examining him, your eyes critical but curious at the same time. "she says your anger used to be terrible. even worse than i remember." you lead him on.

harry bit his lip thinking about the years where his rage was at its worst. he tried not to dwell on them, and instead tried to focus on the newfound emotions consuming his life. but he couldn't deny the path of destruction he'd left while seeing red.

harry eventually nodded, his eyes distant. "it was," he admits, his voice just as lost in thought. you shifted in your seat. "you let it ruin everything, harry." you said softly, leaving him looking at the floor in disappointment. "i know," he admitted.

the silence between you was palpable. harry felt the weight of it on his shoulders before you spoke again. "i would hear about the things you did while in azkaban. the guard would tell me even after i asked him to stop." you inform him. harry can still feel your eyes shooting daggers at him.

"for so long i fantasized about being the one to kill you, to finally put an end to voldemort." you said wistfully. harry glanced at you, seeing a longing look on your face. "how brave of [y/n] to put her love aside to kill the dark lord's apprentice." you said in a mocking tone, leaning back in your seat.

harry watched you, imagining you in azkaban, dreaming of putting an end to his life, while he dreamed of freeing you. it was a fair trade, he thought, and not one he would argue against at this point. and it didn't go unnoticed that you mentioned your love for him, either.

"you still can," harry says, causing you to snap your eyes back at him. "excuse me?" you ask with a sneer. harry puts his book to the side and sits up, his feet planted on the ground. "kill me, that is. it's not impossible." he tells you with intrigue.

you're staring at him incredulously, your eyes always searching him. "you're…you're kidding, right? i mean, you took my magic while yours seems to be highly skilled. you really think i'd stand a chance?" you ask with a sarcastic laugh.

harry stands from his seat, taking achingly slow steps around the coffee table towards you. "yes, while your magic is weak, you are not, [y/n]. i've gone out of my way to keep the knives, fire pokers, swords, and hundreds of books on potions and charms out for your use, at any time, have i not?" harry questions you, getting closer now. though you would normally pull back from him, you stay seated, trying to process his words.

standing just before you, harry admires the curves of your face against the light of the fire. "with your nimble step and cunning wit," harry lifts his hand to gently put his fingers to your chin. the first physical contact he's had with you. unless you count the time you held that knife to his throat. "you could gut me like a pig before i even have the chance to squeal," harry's voice is soft but dark, your breathing caught in your throat at the contact.

as he backed away, harry could see the physical effect he had on you. your nervous blinking, your jaw tightening, hands trembling; he found it sweet he could still do that to you, even if you claimed to hate him.

after that day, harry felt less tension between you two. maybe being vulnerable around you made you realize he was never a threat to begin with. he didn't want anything from you, and he didn't care if you never wanted anything from him. as long as you were safe, that was all he cared about. he hoped you were starting to understand that.

though conversations between you were still tense and cryptic, there was a sense of unspoken comradery that felt nostalgic to you both. your serious, brooding angst matched with harry's calm, collected coldness made for an interesting match. it was never the same as before, you were both fairly aware it wasn't ever going to be, but there was an undoubted chemistry that still lingered from your teenage years together.

however, something else that always lingered during your interactions is your distaste for harry's actions. at any chance you can, you poke and prod at his past, partly to understand, he assumes, but also to test his limits. you were always cautious and suspicious of his submissive behavior when it came to this kind of confrontation; how could someone who was, at least at one point, so evil, so cruel and heartless, become so nonchalant about their past? who wipes out entire cities just to 'not dwell on it'?

this was always a point of contention between you, even if everything else until that point had been somewhat playful. it never so much upset harry as it riled you up, bringing strong emotions to the forefront, causing you to lash out at him. though he always stayed calm, he also always seemed to listen. he never disagreed with your feelings or sentiments, if anything he agreed with your hatred for himself. it's like that day in the living room when he tempted you with his death, and yet you never took the bait.

harry rather enjoyed watching you work yourself up, and admired how quick you were to defend yourself. he never wanted to upset you, of course, but sometimes he couldn't help his cheeky responses knowing it would get a look out of you that made his heart jump. it might not be the most gentlemanly thing he does, but something about your anger excited him. it was nothing like his vengeful rage from the past, but it had its own potency that ran a chill down his spine. harry was so used to everyone cowering away from him in fear of his power that he relished your open aggression towards him. it was thrilling, and it was exactly what he needed.

harry tried to remain respectful of his guest, but having such a beautiful mind and body occupy his space with him was hard to ignore sometimes. his eyes would wander, as well as his thoughts, and he had caught himself fantasizing about you a few too many times to admit. you were stunning, of course, you always had been, but there was something about you now that elevated your beauty in harry's eyes. maybe it was the dark, unforgiving coldness of your eyes, or the strong scowl that your expression rested in, or the underlying anger that was ready to bubble over at any point, but harry was completely infatuated with who you had become.

he knew how hypocritical it was for him to admire the parts of you that were forced out in your desperation to survive the decision he made for you all those years ago. though you seldom mentioned your years in azkaban, harry could see and feel the effects it continued to have on you. they weighed on him heavily, and though harry wasn't one to regret what's happened in the past, he wished he could've figured out another way to protect you at the time. a way that didn't dim the light inside of you the way that it has been.

but still, that light was there. when you smiled to yourself at your own quips, when you admired the food jinx prepares you, when you lost yourself in your books, harry could physically feel the light radiating within you. it was familiar, like an old hug from a friend, and was unmistakably beautiful.

sometimes he felt like a teenager again, discovering the parts of you that made him fall in love in the first place. your natural charm, your captivating eyes, the innate draw he felt to you simply by being in your presence. it was unlike anything he's felt for another person, before or since meeting you. but rather than two teenagers flirting over study dates, you were now two closed off adults with a complicated history and 'break up', if you could even call it that. it was nothing like the past, yet it was entirely too similar.

you and harry had been sitting in silence together in the living room, reading your respective books, enjoying each other's company. it was one of harry's favorite things to do with you now, and one of the only ways you two could be together without it ending in tension. neither of you talked, neither of you made noise outside of the occasional chuckle or gasp at your readings; it was a peaceful excuse for harry to be near you, and sometimes admire you from over the pages.

this night, however, you broke the traditional silence by asking harry a question you'd been keeping to yourself. "harry," you started. he loved the sound of his name in your voice, it was invigorating to listen to.

harry turned his head to you, his book still in his lap, noticing you've long since placed yours on the table beside you. "[y/n]," he responded with his typical smirk, returning his eyes to his book.

you cleared your throat a bit, your ankles crossing in front of you. "how often did you think of me," it was more of a statement than a question, your tone not as cold and questioning as it typically was.

harry knew what you meant, of course, and waited a moment before answering you. "i'd never stopped," he said simply. it was true, and it still is.

you turned to look at the fireplace, your knees bouncing out of the corner of harry's eye as he pretends to continue reading. "but you never came back for me," you stated. harry's eyebrows furrowed, glancing at you again before looking away to leave you with your words. "you left me there to die," you said, that familiar coldness returning to your tone.

harry let out a sharp breath. "that was never my intention, and you know that." he says without a reaction. you become visibly irritated, your jaw clenching with your fists. "you never thought about me," you insisted, your words heavy with contempt.

harry shut his book and threw it beside him, leaning towards you. you turned to glare at him, your nostrils flared. "i was lucky to sleep one full night in the last 5 years without a singular dream of you." he tells you, his voice as steady as his eye contact. "you haunt me like a ghost, [y/n]. you always will."

you're looking at him questionably as you stand from your seat across from him, now making your way towards him. "good. i hope you never forget about what you did to me. i won't." you hiss at him, your cheeks turning red. harry's mind races with you towering over him, leaning back in his seat to fully enjoy the view.

"how could i forget about you?" he quips, that same damn smirk making you grit your teeth. you take another, heavier step towards him, your fists trembling at your sides. "stop fucking doing that," you spit threateningly.

harry cocks his head to the side, looking you up and down. he likes seeing you like this, even if it scares him a bit. "what?" he asks, pushing you even further.

you step between his legs and lean into his face, only leaving a few inches between you. "that, you fucking creep. is this funny to you?" your voice is raised now, the anger finally starting to boil over again. "not at all," harry says, still smirking at your reaction.

"then wipe the smirk off your face and stop doing this to me, harry." you instruct him, leaning back to cross your arms in front of you. harry's biting his lip, not able to resist the lustful thoughts he's having of you in this situation. "doing what, exactly?" he asks, curious what you mean.

"this, all of this, harry. you look at me like a starving animal. you watch me around the house like a stalker. you say you think of me all the time and yet you've only so much as touched my chin." you rattle off, clearly frustrated with these thoughts you've kept inside. "you bring me back here and have me live like a princess when there's people outside who live like animals because of you and what you've done," you continue to raise your voice at him, now getting yourself completely worked up.

harry just watches you, like always, not disagreeing with any of your sentiments. as he normally doesn't, he knows you're a smart girl.

"and you're still fucking looking at me like that," you growl, your arm coming across his neck once more, like the first night you were here, holding him against the cushions of the couch.

harry doesn't stop you, as he never does, and instead enjoys the feeling of you kneeling between his legs in an attempt to further choke him. "i swear on my own life i'll still kill you, potter. what the fuck do you want from me?" you interrogate him, your dark eyes searching him for answers.

the smirk on harry's face only grows, causing you to push further into his throat. it's ironic how much he wants from you right now that would only further put his life at risk in your hands.

"i…never wanted…anything…" harry chokes out. he knows he's stronger than you and could easily escape your grasp, but he enjoys the feeling of letting you have control over the moment, and over him.

"that's a fucking lie," you say through gritted teeth, getting nose to nose with harry. "tell me what you want." you insist.

harry's heart is racing, his mind going blank from the lack of oxygen, and an inconvenient erection growing through his trousers. he could tell you so many things he wants, how many nights he's spent imagining you on top of him like this once again. he knows it would only anger you more, and he was almost tempted by that thought alone.

after a few moments of harry struggling to keep his eyes focused on you, you could feel something against your thigh that caught your attention. glancing down, your weight on harry's throat lessened enough for him to breathe slightly. you looked back up at his eyes with a look of confusion and shock before quickly returning to anger.

"seriously? are you fucking turned on right now as i'm threatening your life?" you ask him with disgust, slightly pulling away. harry's cheeks flush as he tries to catch his breath, your arm still resting across this collarbone. he stays quiet, his eyes glancing between you and his lap.

you scoff at him. "you're so pathetic, potter. how you were ever a leader of anything is a mystery to me." you ridicule him, an amused smirk coming across your own face.

your condescending attitude only fuels harry's excitement more, trying not to let his expression expose how much he's enjoying this.

"it's almost like you want me to kill you," your voice is quiet but dangerously cold, giving harry goosebumps as your breath falls across his blushing face. he tries to stop it but his body can't resist a low whine being forced from his throat.

your eyes fall to his lips for just a moment before you lean into them, surprising harry with a hungry kiss as you relax your weight onto his body. more moans escape harry's mouth as you roughly force your tongue past his lips. his hand naturally finds your waist, but you slap it away harshly with your free hand. "no touching." you warn him, your lips brushing against his.

"yes ma'am," harry responds.

you give him a look, your other leg kneeling beside his as you straddle his thigh, your skirt falling perfectly over his knee. "i still hate you," you growl, choking him against the couch once more. "i know," harry says breathlessly, staring at you like a helpless puppy.

forcing him into a suffocating kiss, you eventually let harry breathe as your lips find his neck, your teeth sinking into his skin and hands grasping his shoulders tightly. he groans at the pain, earning a slight roll of your hips on his leg. harry wants nothing more than to touch you right now, guiding your hips into his body, pleasuring you like he's wanted to for so long. but for now, he's just glad you're kissing him, and enjoys the feeling of your breath against his bruised skin.

"shirt off." you command, sitting back to observe the puddle harry's become in your grasp. he wastes no time taking off his sweater, throwing it behind him as your eyes trace over his scarred torso. your cold gaze softens at the sight, your fingers tracing the healed wounds carefully.

for a moment, when you glance at harry through your eyelashes, he feels that same love you shared as kids. the soft, innocent admiration that came with inexperience. for just one moment, nothing was complicated, and there was no history. you were discovering harry all over again, like he had been with you.

the moment didn't last for long as your gaze hardened once more looking at him. you stood from your straddling position, much to his disappointment. he was ready for you to end the moment and leave, but you didn't.

"on your knees." you instructed him. again, harry wasted no time as he sunk to his knees in front of the couch, eye level with the hem of your skirt. he looked up at you eagerly, hardly believing the privilege he had to see you above him like this.

harry's heart was racing as you lifted your skirt to expose your panties to him. his eyes never left yours, his breathing hitching at the beauty just in front of his face. his hands were patiently folded in his lap, aching to grab every part of you.

you slowly lifted one thigh onto harry's shoulder, reaching down to take the glasses off his face for him, setting them to the side. "now," you told him, your voice seductive as you lean your weight into him once more. harry holds his shoulders steady, his mouth close enough to your soaked pantines to nearly taste you already.

"let me ride your face," you coo, your hands finding their way to his cheeks as he continues staring at you with hungry eyes. "it's the least you can do for me," you smirk, your voice still chillingly cold and cryptic.

harry lets out a sigh of relief and desperation, eyes glancing at your panties before returning to your gaze. you slowly push his open mouth onto you, not able to hold back a sound of relief yourself.

harry's eyes flutter shut as your hips roll onto his face, losing himself in your smell and taste. your fingers tangle into his hair to keep him in place, soft, breathy gasps falling from your lips as you watch from above.

after a minute you become too desperate and pull your panties aside, instructing harry to hold them as you force his mouth onto your dripping pussy. harry listens like a good boy and holds the fabric, his hand also taking the chance to grip your inner thigh. a deep moan escapes your throat at the feeling.

harry's tongue quickly works its way across your arousal, enjoying every part of you as he pushes himself further into your pussy. your hands try to pull his hair back to relieve some of the overwhelming feeling, but harry doesn't let you control him for once. he's desperate to please you, his hunger growing the more of you he's allowed to have.

harry's other hand grabs for your skirt to hold it above his head, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. your face is twisted in pleasure, lips bitten, eyes glazed over as you watch harry disappear between your legs.

harry moans at the sight of you, sending shivers across your skin. you moan, biting your lips closed, your hips stuttering against his mouth. "fuck," you mumble, earning another moan from harry as his tongue circles your sensitive clit.

a hand rushed to your mouth as you attempt to hide your filthy noises, the feeling making your eyes roll back. you're trying to mask your pleasure, but harry can see right through you.

you finally successfully pull his mouth off of you, lips swollen and wet as his head rests in your grip. "good," you say breathlessly. your voice falters a bit. you take your thigh off harry's shoulder, again, much to his disappointment.

"sit," you tell him, gesturing to the couch once more. harry complies, returning to his spot on the couch behind him. you reach forward and unbutton his pants, pulling them down a bit with his assistance. you can see his erection through his briefs, causing you to smirk a bit before returning to your neutral expression.

"no touching," you remind harry as you position yourself to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. harry's sure you can hear his heartbeat racing under your control.

you start grinding your soaking wet panties against harry's clothed cock, your mouth falling open with his at the sensation. the light of the fire behind you leaves harry with the beautiful sight of you glowing in his lap, your warm skin pressed against his as your breathy moans fall into his neck.

harry can hardly take the teasing any longer, his moans becoming needier the harder he gets under you. "fuck, [y/n]," his voice is deep with desire, his head rolling back once your roll your hips into him harshly. you moan at the sound of your own name, your hands returning to his shoulders as your nails dig deep into his skin.

"that's right, say my name," you smirk, grinding into harry at a faster pace. "so pathetic," you remind him.

harry continuously lets your name fall from his lips as you watch him, a helpless, desperate mess beneath you. he loves the feeling of letting you use him any way you want to.

soon you can't wait much longer, and you pull out harry's cock from his briefs. the feeling of your hand grasping his shift makes harry's hips buck up involuntarily, silently asking for more.

you can't help but chuckle at just how eager he is. you're more than enjoying the control and effect you have over him.

"now," you say again, causing harry to look back at you with needy eyes. "you're gonna let me use you until i cum," you tell him, teasing yourself with the feeling of him against your wet pussy. harry's eyes nearly roll back again as he nods for you, his lips parted with uneven breaths.

you slide harry inside of you, adjusting to the feeling as harry's head falls back once again in pleasure. "so fucking wet," harry sighs softly, nearly whining. once your hips lower completely onto his length, you start to ride harry slowly, still adjusting to him. he's a full blown whining mess beneath you, his chest flushed and heaving as your pussy tightens around him.

you take in the sight of him, your eyes exploring every sweaty part of his body as you continue riding at a slow pace. you unwrap your arms from his shoulders, leaning back into your hips. "take my shirt off," you tell harry.

his eyes open again, looking at you eagerly. his hands nervously begin lifting your shirt, holding the fabric carefully between his fingers, and savors the sight and feeling of pulling it off of you, his eyes glancing at your chest before locking with yours again.

"so beautiful," he tells you, your skin looking deliciously soft in the warm lowlight. "i know, now be quiet," you shut him up, picking up the pace of your hips.

harry's eyes narrow at you, the intoxicating feeling of you wrapped around his cock only making him hungrier for your pleasure. the sight of you bouncing in his lap, your breasts just in front of his face as you lean your hands next to his head on the back of the couch.

"open," you tell harry.

he doesn't have to be told twice before his lips part, his tongue eagerly waiting for you. you guide your nipple into his mouth, your hips rolling onto harry's cock in circles. his teeth and tongue tease the sensitive skin, your pussy gripping harry even more and earning a low growl from his chest. his hands remained at his sides, but he wanted nothing more than to feel you everywhere on top of him.

you start riding harry once more, his teeth still gripping your nipple making you whine at the feeling. "fuck," you let the word slip out, your own teeth sinking into your bottom lip. harry's more than aroused at your reaction to him, his cock aching inside of you to release.

you pull harry's head back by his hair, forcing him to look up at you. you reach for his glasses that you sat down earlier, returning them to his face delicately. harry appreciates the gesture and can better see the pleasure in your eyes, a soft smile falling across his lips.

"so pretty," he whispers. he can see the blush you try to hide, looking away from his eyes and down at your hips.

you start groaning in frustration, your grip on his hair tightening, causing harry to wince. "you're gonna make me cum," you tell him through broken moans, your thrusts becoming uneven. harry can feel you tightening around him again. he groans at the feeling, your name slipping from his mouth again and again. this only makes you fall apart more, high pitched whimpers coming from you as you chase your high.

you soon sink into harry's neck, your cries of pain and pleasure falling across his skin as your legs start to shake. you can't even form words as your body feels the waves of intense pleasure from each thrust onto harry's cock. your hands move to his shoulders again, holding onto him for stability as you continue to ride out your climax.

harry grows impatient at the feeling of your orgasm and watching you break down into him. he finally grabs for you, moving your hips to the couch beside him, staying inside you while you gasp at his movement. he kicks off his pants and adjusts himself between your legs.

"harry," you try to protest, your voice weak and shaky. "just let me do this, darling," he growls, his hips becoming flush against yours as he pushes his cock completely inside of you. you let out a gasp, your hand slapping over your lips once more.

harry hungrily digs his cock deeper inside of you with each slow thrust, his hands holding himself up above you as he watches his cock easily slide in and out of your soaking wet pussy. he folds your legs back as he sinks even deeper into you.

"holy fuck," he groans, his breathing heavy, hands gripping the back of your thighs to keep himself steady. "so beautiful, [y/n]," harry tells you again, his droopy eyes focused on your face twisted in pleasure.

you look at him, your eyes full of lust, but still cold as ice. "i…hate you," you remind him through strained breaths, struggling to take his entire length, still glaring at him.

this pushes harry over the edge, his hips quickening until he feels himself start to unravel. he pulls out of your warm pussy and cums on your stomach, groaning at the sight of you below him.

you gasp at the feeling, looking at harry with shock. "did you just cum from me saying i hate you?" you ask, your tone mocking his desperation. harry nods, still stroking his cock slowly, his other hand remaining on your thigh as his moans quiet down.

"you're disgusting," you tell him coldly, but harry can see the smirk on your face and the lust in your eyes. he watches you below him, smirking in return.

"and you love it."

[vitzi9]

Headcanon: Yandere!Ethan Landry

Reader is gn, enjoy.

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

Content warning: uhhhh gore description? Sex allusions; obsessive and shit. I mean, that's yandere you have to be used to it by now. OOC Ethan ? Manipulative, stalking blah blah blah nothing too crazy for a yandere.

~2000 words (8/05/2023)

💠Yan!Ethan Landry who 'accidentally' run into you at school. He's been following you in the hallways since you arrived to be honest but there is so much students here, you can't notice him in the crowd.

➛"I'm so sorry ! I wasn't looking !" He was, he was staring right at your face when he practically jumped on you. "It's okay, don't worry. I wasn't looking either." And when you two leave each other, what a crazy coincidence that you seem to have forgotten your book ! Wait, you didn't have it in your bag ? Of course silly ! Why would Ethan have it either way ? You're so clumsy ! He'll have to come give it back to you.

➛And suddenly, you see him everywhere. In the library at the same time as you and, oh no ! There is no seat for him ! Wait, is that a free seat ext to you? Maybe you won't mind if he seats here, he gave you back your book after all. He's so nice. Suddenly, he's at the same parties as you. Laughing with you and rating the costumes of people around you. He's in your building to 'drop someone off' and so on. What a coincidence, right ?

💠Yan!Ethan Landry who, to keep you all to himself, always say things like 'No, i'm mostly alone in my free time' to make you pity him into staying by his side. If it don't work, at least you got the idea that he's single and available for you.

➛ Pretty simple things, really. He'll tell you that his last partner left him without warning, that they were manipulating him. That he has difficulty in giving his trust to someone because of them. And now he's scared to love. That it hurt him really bad and of course you're sad for him ! So you're trying to be as nice as possible. You don't need to know that he never had any partner ! He'll eventually tell you that later.

➛Like "You're going to the party tomorrow ?" "I was planning on just staying at home" He didn't. Chad harassed him to come, and he would have if he didn't have the better option of staying with you. "I never really catch people's attention anyway..." He didn't care, it was yours that he wanted. But right now, his goal was to make you sad. For you to have pity of him so you'd stay with him.

So most of the time you try to make him smile by asking him to come to the party with you. Happy, he'll be stuck to your side all night, chasing everyone who'd dare approach. He's tall, he'll stand behind you and glare blankly at everyone without you noticing. He doesn't even need to try to be scary, he's a serial killer, his simple being emits a threatening energy.

➛Or when you ask him what's his plan for the week end and he just goes "Nothing, I don't really have much friends. I'll probably watch movies." with a small, almost ashamed voice. And you don't want to leave your new friend alone. And you think that he's too nice to be left alone so you offer to stay with him and he's on cloud nine !

➛Like "Don't you want a boyfriend sometimes ?" he'd ask. And you're a little surprised but you answer as honestly as possible. And he answer just after you, ignoring a little your answer. He just wanted to say what he needed to. "I'd like a partner. I've never had anyone loving me, that look so nice." He sighs. And while you look somewhere else, he'd give you a longing look. He probably already told Chad you two were together to be honest.

💠Yan!Ethan Landry who plays innocent when he litteraly jump on you when you two are watching a scary movie. He's a fucking liar, don't trust him. He litteraly kills people babe... This guy absolutly LOVE horror movie and even the gorest of them all couldn't make him twitch. But with you, he plays the innocent and easily scared nerd.

➛When the murderer suddenly appear on the screen in a loud scream, the boy plunge his head in your neck, putting his hands before his eyes to hide the TV from him. You laugh. "It wasn't that scary, you know ?" He laughs nervously, moving away from you but still sticking to your side. The side of his thigh flat against yours and your arms touching each other's. His cheeks are red and you probably think it's because of his embarassment in jumping of fear but he's just happy to be near you. "If you're so scared we can change." But he dismisses you. Saying that it's okay. After that, he'll hide himself in your body at each loud noises. Smiling when you can't see him, happy with his trickery.

And that little monster takes advantage of the situation until the end. He'll call/text you when you're at home. He'll keep you awake all night, pretending to be scared to sleep, needing to talk to you even if you're in two differents places just to be reassured.

💠Yan!Ethan Landry who guilt trap you by crying if you dare be angry at him or accuse him of something. It can be anything but he'll try and gaslight you. He'll cry harder, like a kid, to prevent you to continue talking.

➛After he came to your flat one day, one of your shirt disappeared. You had lend one to him since he got stained. (even if you're not the same size at him, i'm sure you have oversized clothes so it fit him) Without thinking much of it, you asked him about it when you saw him in class. And suddenly, he's looking at you with his big and shiny doe eyes, as if you had insulted him. Because in his head, you did ! "I gave it back to you litteraly two days ago..?" And he seems so sure of himself that you start to question yourself. "Are you sure ?" you ask, though. And Ethan laugh lightly. You doubt, trying to remember the past few days and thinking that, yeah, maybe he gave it back and it just didnt really stuck to you. "Yeah, I'm sure. Why would I steal your shirt anyway ?" But you swear you haven't seen your clothes in a while now.

➛Like, Ethan, your new friend, comes to your flat one day. You're used to it by now. He's sad, terribly sad. Or at least that's what he shows. "You know that person I was talking to ?" Another lie, he never talked to anyone beside you. And he plans on staying like that. But he told you he was slowly trying to forget about 'his ex', that he was trying to come out of his shell. And also he wanted to make you jealous by telling you he was talking to someone. (it didnt work, he was devastated) "They kind of called me a creep" and he laughs nervously, like he's ashamed to tell you that. (he's not) "They didn't like that I was clingy." And you try to be objective. "You know, people except different things in a relation. Maybe you were indeed too much for them but..." And then his eyes water and you feel bad. "Shit. I'm... Are you okay ? I wasn't insulting..." He doesn't want you to finish that. Because he doesn't want to hear you contradict him. So, thinking you said something stupid, you try to comfort him but now that he got you feeling guilty, he'll lock himself in the bathroom while this time, you're the one following him. He'll act like he's embarrassed to cry before you while in reality that shit is his most powerful technique. He'll cry before you every fucking day if he needed to.

💠Yan!Ethan Landry who calls you when he's ghostface, playing with you to see your reactions. He's the type to talk about himself (Ethan) to you to see what do you think about him. Yeah, he's fucked up.

➛"Do you like scary movies ?" ask a changed voice. You frown your brow, taking the phone away from your ear to look at it. As if the face of the caller would appear. "Who are you ?" "Answer the question, pretty." "Don't call me that." A silence pass. Ethan didnt know how to contain his feelings. He was so happy to talk to you ! And in his costume, he was so much more confident ! He was able to tell you things he never did ! "I like scary movie. And you ?" you finally respond in a sigh. Ethan decides to skip this part, rushing to what's interest him. "Do you have a boyfriend ?" "Will my answer change the way you act with me ?" "Maybe" "I don't have a boyfriend, or any kind of partner for that matter." The boy on the other side of the phone was trembling in joy. His cheeks were crimson red. "Good".

➛For the umpteenth time this week, the phone ring. "Please leave me alone." you said, still scared by the call; you answered the phone, again, because he once threatened to come get you if you didn't. You wouldn't have been so terrified if he hadn't told you your exact adress, proving you that he was indeed watching. No way you were going to try him. "I was thinking about your little boyfriend recently. Ethan, right ?" "He's not my boyfriend, leave him alone. He did nothing." As much as he despised the way you dismissed your relation with him, Ethan was euphoric to think you were trying to protect him. "He's not, hm ?" He was shaking from joy thanks to this call. "How would you react seeing his dismembered head in your mailbox, hm ? You'd cry ? I bet you'd cry all your pretty tears for him. I'd like that." "Stop..." "Do you think he'd cry seeing your cute little head in his mailbox ?" And he couldn't stop himself. "I'm sure he'd be devastated. He's so fucking pitiful. I'm sure he wants to fuck you but he's too much of a coward to do so, huh ? Would you like being fucked by him ? To fuck that whore ? Tell me, pretty. Should I send you his head ?"

Plus, the best part was when you'd run to him crying and telling him how much you're scared. Then, Ethan could be your knight in shining armor, promising you he'd protect you from your stalker. And it worked ! Strangely, each time you were stuck to him, Ghostface didn't call.

If only you knew.

[atlasscrumpit]

Assassin!Bucky x Immortal!Reader

You walked through the darkened streets of New York City, feeling a looming presence.

You sighed and slowly turned around to the none other than the winter soldier lurking behind you.

"You know...I did expect someone to put a hit on me eventually." You muttered, shoving your hands in your pockets.

"Nothing personal, doll. I have a job and I do it." He replied making you chuckle softly.

"I can respect that... Why don't you tell me who sent you?" You asked, tilting your head and looking him up and down.

"I wouldn't be going a good job if I just told everyone who wanted them dead." He said with a smirk, it was a shame he had to kill you.

You were quite the woman.

"Well... Unfortunately I need to know." You muttered before you concentrated and stared into his eyes.

He quickly shut his eyes and groaned in pain as you forced your way into his mind.

"Tony Stark, huh? Figures." You grumble, rolling your eyes.

Bucky recovered and looked at you in shock.

"What the fuck was that?" He growled making you chuckle softly.

"I guess Tony didn't warn you, huh? Too bad... There's some darkness in that head of yours." You muttered, crossing your arms.

He pulled out a pistol and cocked it as you smiled.

"Hard way, or easy way?" He growled making you chuckle softly.

"How about this... I make this job nice and easy for you and you go out with me on Saturday night." You said as he faltered for a moment and looked at you in shock.

"I'm about to kill you and you're asking me out?" He asked in disbelief as you nodded.

"I'll just get a new body." You said with a shrug as if you could just pop down to the corner store and buy a body.

"What the hell does that even mean?" He grumbled as you slowly moved forward.

"I think we can both keep a secret... I won't tell anyone about that kid you accidentally killed a few years ago and you don't tell anyone I'm actually an immortal spirit possessing human bodies." You said casually as he glared at you.

"You're fucking insane. How do you know about...that?" He muttered, his voice faltering.

"I was inside your head, I saw it all. So, Saturday 8pm at the Brady's restaurant down town?" You said looking into his eyes, he was filled with confusion.

"You expect me to believe all of this?" He asked making you chuckle softly.

"I'm dead either way, I'll see you Saturday. Since you won't recognise me I'll be wearing a red dress." You said as he narrowed his eyes.

"I'm actually intrigued..." He grumbled before aiming the gun at your head and pulling the trigger.

He stared down at your lifeless body, confusion clouding his thoughts.

"See you Saturday..."

--

Bucky sat at the bar in the restaurant, a glass of whiskey in his hand as he tapped the glass nervously.

It was thirty minutes past 8pm and he was losing his hope, he actually had liked you and hated the thought that he had actually murdered you...

But, at least he got paid.

"Sorry I'm late, new body and all. Still getting used to it." He heard a voice as he looked behind him to see a beautiful young woman in a stunning red dress.

"It's...you." He whispered in shock as you chuckled.

"I am a woman of my word. Come on, I booked the best table." You replied before one of the waitors lead you over to a more private table with a window.

You sat down with Bucky across from you.

"I honestly don't know what to say... I really didn't expect you to show up." He said with an awkward laugh.

"It's not often I reveal who I am to people... It felt nice I suppose. I always just live the role of the body I possess and that's it..." You replied, a hint of sadness in your voice.

"I can imagine it gets quite lonely. So, what's your name?" He asked as the waiter brought over some wine.

"Well, the bodies name is Scarlet but...my real name is Y/N." You replied a little unsurely.

After all it had been a long time since you muttered your real name.

"It's lovely to officially meet you, Y/N. You can call me Bucky." He said raising his glass up to you.

You did the same and tapped your glass against him.

"Here's to new friends."

[twohearts-hs]

Defying The Odds: 12 - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 2.8k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Intimacy, Murder, etc. you know the deal...

A/N: this is a complete series of ~105k words. Based on Season 1 & 2.

Hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

The prison yard was buzzing with the usual activity, but Y/N felt out of place, her mind swirling with guilt. She was supposed to be doing PI work in the yard. But all she could think about was Dr. Remington. The weight of her manipulation pressed down on her, crushing her insides. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to push the thoughts away when she noticed Michael approaching.

         “Did you do it?” Michael’s voice was low, a sharp edge of urgency. “Did you tell Remington about the plan?”

         Y/N glanced at him, guilt seeping into her expression. She wanted to lie, to protect herself, but her heart was heavier than it had ever been. She sighed, her voice weak. “I don’t know. He slammed the door in my face.”

         She turned, walking away from Michael as the doubt and regret washed over her. This was supposed to be her fresh start, a way to escape everything – the mob, Sebastian, her old life and murders. Instead, she felt she was back to her old habits, pulling strings, manipulating people, and causing harm…she might as well murder someone and write her note in lipstick.

         Michael caught up with her again, sensing her turmoil. “Y/N, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

         She stopped, biting her lip as she looked at him, tears threatening to surface. “I promised myself...I promised myself I wouldn’t manipulate or play with an innocent man’s emotions,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I swore to the courts that I would never twist the truth to get what I want or harm another person. I told myself I would never hurt anyone ever again.”

         Michael frowned, confusion clouding his features. “You didn’t hurt anyone. What are you talking about?”

         Y/N met his eyes, the sadness in hers pulling her further into her guilt. “I didn’t hurt him physically, Michael. But emotionally…I did. Mentally…I did. I used Remington. I toyed with his feelings, and made him think I cared more than I did, all so we could get into the infirmary. He trusted me, and I shattered that trust.”

         The realisation hit Michael as he absorbed her words. He could see how torn she was. This wasn’t the same woman who had fought to survive in prison. She was grappling with her own morality, with the lines she’d crossed.

         “Y/N,” he said gently, stepping closer. “You did what you had to do. This is life or death. You can’t let the guilt eat you alive. We all make sacrifices in here.”

         “I know,” she whispered, but the weight of her actions still sat heavily on her chest. “But it feels like I’m just falling back into the person I was…the one who ruined lives for survival. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

         Michael’s eyes softened, and he took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. “You’re not that person, Y/N. You’re doing this to survive, yes, but also to save an innocent man and yourself. You’re not manipulating for power or money; you’re trying to get free.”

         She nodded slowly, though the guilt lingered. “I just…I don’t want to hurt anyone else.”

         Michael gave her a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll make it out of here, and then you can start fresh. No more manipulation. No more lies. Just freedom.”

         Y/N looked up at him, the conflict in her heart still present but slightly eased by his words. She nodded again, though a part of her wondered if she could truly escape the person she once was or would become if she kept going down this path.

-

They were in the locker room. Y/N was sitting down, glancing over at her nails before wishing to have some hand cream. The extraneous labour work took a toll on her soft hands. Michael came in and said, “Put your blues on over your PI gear.”

         “What?” Sucre said.

         “You want to tell us why?” Abruzzi asked.

         “If we don’t have time to get the suits we need, we’re gonna have to make them,” Michael announced.

         Panic struck C-Note’s face. “What are you doing? We got company.”

         “It’s ok. He’s coming with us,” Michael announced.

         Y/N shot up from looking at the floor to Michael. “What?” she hissed. “Michael,” she tried but he just shook his head at her.

         “Hey, whatever happened to, ‘we got too many people’?” Abruzzi questioned.

         “When the plan changed, so did the timing,” Michael barked. “I’ll make sure we all get through.”

         “Well, for health reasons, information like that should be disseminated a little more pronto,” T-Bag

         “Uh-uh, Fish. One more person means there’s one more thing that can go wrong. He is not coming,” C-Note exclaimed, voice powerful.

         “It’s not up for discussion.”

         “The hell it ain’t,” C-Note said, walking closer to Michael.

         “I owe him. I don’t owe you a damn thing,” Michael whispered, voice low and taunting.

         “Well, you’re gonna if we get nailed,” C-note stated, “’cause you didn’t wanna cut down on the damn guest list.”

         Michael walked to where Y/N was. “Michael,” she said, voice low and quiet.

         “It’s going to be fine,” he stated. “Just listen.”

-

It was the waiting game and Michael was gone. He was called to the warden’s office.

         There was a plan. Always a plan. However, as Y/N sat in the cell she could not help but worry. Her blue jumpsuit was turning white and now she just had to wait. However, the nerves were a real thing.

         They were getting out tonight. They were getting out tonight and Y/N never felt so worried.

         Michael came back forty-five minutes later, he looked over at her for a moment and nodded before being escorted to his cell. Tier time came and Y/N came over to Michael’s cell. He opened his arms and brought her into a hug. His arms wrapped around her neck; lips close to her ear. “I love you and we are going to get through this,” he whispered in her ear, pulling away and rubbing her arms.

         “The first thing we do when we get out here,” she mumbled, “is a very large martini, extra dirty with gin and stirred. Also, a real bra.”

         Michael chuckled. “You got it, boss. I will also take you on a date where you can get this martini and we can pretend we are meeting for the first time, so we have a good story and not prison,” he exclaimed with a smile. “I will buy you all the lingerie you desire,” he then added. “From Paris.”

         Men came up who were looking for C-Note. Y/N was sitting with Michael on the bed.

         “Haven’t seen him,” she said, and they walked away after checking the cell. Y/N glanced over to Michael and smiled a reassuring smile.

         Slowly the group went in one by one. Y/N waited with Michael as he handed the clothes to each of them. Eventually, it was Y/N’s turn and she looked at Michael and nodded before crawling in. He was right behind her. They crawled through the pipes, one by one as they went. It was cramp and small, smelt a little weird but she knew she could not complain.

         Michael guided them. They heard Bellick scream and instantly, panic-struck her. T-Bag put his hand over Bellick mouth as Michael came up. He threatened him with a knife, holding it close to silence him.

         “You scream and I’ll cut out your windpipe, got me?” T-Bag threatened, a knife to his neck.

         Y/N came up behind Michael.

         “I need his jacket and hat,” Michael said, and they got to work undressing him.

         “Brains of the outfit, huh, Scofield?” Bellick taunted then looked to the others. “He’s leading you off a cliff, boys.” His eyes focused on Y/N. “Even you sweetheart has fallen for his charms. I bet he used you to get in your pants and will drop you the moment he’s out,” he threatened.

         “Now you’re acting like you’re still in charge. Shut your mouth, bitch,” C-Note spat.

         “So pendajo!” Sucre hissed with disgust.

         Bellick looked up at the pipe and locked eyes with Tweener. Y/N watched as he opened his mouth, “You…You know, he’s–“

         However, Tweener shut him up by punching him and forcing the duct tape back into Bellick’s mouth.

         Michael waited as they all went through and Y/N stopped at him, taking his hand and squeezing it before bringing it to her lips then she continued climbing on.

         Eventually, they got to a halt, Michael turned to them and said, “Everyone put your coveralls on. I’ll be back in a minute.” He was wearing Bellick’s uniform now.

         “Yo, where you going, man?” C-Note asked. “Hey!”

         “Just trust,” Y/N said. “There’s always a plan. Have a little faith.”

         “You heard him. Come on,” Sucre nudged.

         Y/N quickly pulled on the coveralls on while everyone followed. Y/N looked over to see Westmoreland looking at a bump in his clothing. She furrowed her brows. It was taking awhile and panic began to strike. Sucre looked up the grate.

         “What’s going on?” Manche asked with urgency.

         “I don’t know,” Sucre said.

         “What are we supposed to do, just sit here?” Manche panicked.

         “No. I don’t know!” Sucre exclaimed, getting borderline aggressive.

         “Shh,” Y/N shushed. “Have a little faith. There’s a plan. Stick to it,” she exclaimed, voice commanding. “Michael will get us out of here.”

         Manche shook his head. “Man, this whole thing is messed up, bro.”

         An alarm buzzed and they all looked up.

         “We’re screwed. We’re screwed!” T-Bag yelled.

         “Shhh,” Y/N snapped.

         Michael came back then explaining that they are moving forward despite the alarm. They needed to stick to the plan.

         “It’s the fire alarm in the psych ward,” Michael exclaimed coming closer.

         “How do you know?” Sucre asked.

         “I set it off,” Michael stated.

         “Why?”

         Everyone in the psych ward exited the building, all in white. They waited until it was time. When the patients were walking back to the psych ward as it was a false alarm, the team came up from the from grate.

         Y/N pulled her hair in a low bun, trying her best to look like a man. She tipped her head down as she followed the group, Michael in the lead wearing the guard’s uniform.

         “Got some stragglers,” he stated to one of the psych workers. “Let’s go!”

         “That’s not a wack shack issue,” the psych ward worker said.

         “Stay where you are! I said, stay where you are,” Michael yelled. Then he focused on the worker. “What’s the problem?” The man grabbed Michael’s arm and pulled him aside. “What’s the problem?”

         “That’s the girl from C-Block,” he explained.

         Michael looked at Y/N. “Yeah, after killing six men and being in the mob, I think it got to her. She’s a little… you know,” he sighed. “Do you got that sedative?” The worker handed him the sedative. “This will put her out, right?”

         “Like a light.”

         Then Michael injected the needle into the worker’s neck, helping him to the ground before they went on again. They went down a vent one by one. However, Michael stopped in front of Tweener and Y/N followed behind him.

         “What’s up?’

         “We know you told Bellick,” Michael said looking him in the eye as Y/N stood behind him.

         Tweener shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

         “But I owed you, and I pay my debts,” Michael said lowly filled with a serious tone. “But as soon as we’re out of here, you go your way, we’ll go ours.” Tweener nodded and they continued with their escape.

         Everyone continued through the pipes, Michael reached back to grab Y/N’s hand, pulling her along.

         Michael picked out of a room, walking slowly down the corridor before signalling for everyone to come.

         Lincoln sat on the hospital bed waiting for whatever to come. The guard was talking about trucks when his eyes caught a movement ahead.

         Michael appeared, cocking a comment to the guard and catching his attention with the group of them. Instantly, the guard stood and hands up, backing up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, hey! I ain’t a hero for 14$ an hour. You do what you will.”

         “Uncuff my brother,” Michael demanded.

         “You got it, boss.” He did as Michael asked and then said, “Pretend I ain’t here, boss.”

         “Oh, yeah. You and the radio,” T-Bag cocked, punching him and knocking him out. However, he grabbed the pair of handcuffs and key without anyone noticing.

         The group walked up to the door to the room with the window. Y/N was behind Michael, ready to see if Dr. Remington did actually unlock the door. As Michael grasped the knob, slowly turning it.

         “Better be open, bro,” Sucre said. Everyone waited, huffing and puffing. Y/N closed her eyes, not wanting to see if she actually did it. It was life or death. If Sebastian found out she tried to escape…away from him…she did not know what he would do.

         Michael turned it, opening it and smirking. “We’re in.” They all entered, and Michael stopped. “First we gotta get that window out, then we gotta get the bars off.” Everyone piled in preparing for the escape.

         Michael went to the firehose, grabbing it and pulling it to the window. He quickly changed, closing the elevator door, but it wouldn’t close.

         “What now, genius?”

         He tried again, but it wasn’t budgeting.

         “Take your time,” T-Bag taunted. “We got 15 minutes to get over that wall.”

         Then, Tweener went into the elevator, closing it. The elevator went, pulling the hose that was attached to the bars. Slowly, but surely, it opened.

         The window was opened.

         “We’re through,” Michael said.

         They undressed as Tweener came back. However, as they were getting ready to get out, Haywire appeared.

         “I knew it,” he said.

         “Haywire,” Michael said.

         “I knew it. As soon as I saw you go into pscyh ward, I knew it. Either I come with…” Everyone moved but he held up a radio. “You want me to make a little person-to-person call here?”

         “Haywire, just take it easy,” Michael tried to calm him down.

         “He’s in,” Lincoln said.

         “What?” Abruzzi whispered.

         “He’s in,” Lincoln said again.

         “You’re crazy!” Abruzzi exclaimed.

         Bickering began about who is going when and Y/N stayed by Michael watching the whole thing unfold. In her hands were the white overalls. She glanced over to Michael and he sent a nod, taking her hand and squeezing it.

         They watched as Lincoln went over and slowly everyone went. However, Michael was concentrated on his watch, getting stressed with the time.

         “You ok?” she whispered, rubbing his back.

He glanced over to her. “Yeah,” he said with a breathy tone.

When Sucre began going over, Westmoreland fell down and instantly Michael, C-Note and Y/N went over.

“Charles?” Y/N asked, crouching down. “You ok?”

“No,” he said with pain.

“Let’s take a look,” Y/N said, taking his shirt with Michael and peeling it up. There it was a gash…a stab wound. It looked painful.

“It’s just a few more steps. You can make it,” Michael said.

“Oh, I could make it another foot, maybe two, but why?” Westmoreland asked rhetorically. “I wasn’t going for me. I was going for my daughter.”

“Then do it for your daughter,” Y/N said.

Michael promised him something.

“The money is buried under the silo,” Westmoreland said breathy looking at Michael. “At the Double K Ranch just outside of Tooele, Utah. There’s plenty to split, but you better buy her,” he glanced at Y/N, “a big fancy ring. I know real love when I see it.” He took a deep breath. “The government didn’t want any more embarrassment after I took off with the money, so they lowballed it to the papers. The truth is, Michael, it’s not $1 million under that silo…There’s $5 million there.”

Everyone heard it. Everyone in that entire room heard it.

“Give Anna her Papa’s love. And marry that girl.”

“I will,” Michael said, clasping his hand. “And I will.”

T-Bag went, climbing over the wire, however it was budging. C-Note was next.

Westmoreland edged Michael and Y/N to go, however, Manche told he would go last. Y/N went. Quickly going before Michael went. As soon as Michael started climbing, the lights went on and the alarm blared.  

Y/N was on the other side, waiting and panicking as she spotted Michael going over. “Come on,” she whispered. “Michael, baby, come on,” she edged. However, the wire broke with Manche going so Michael was climbing up. Lincoln grabbed Michael’s hand, pulling him up.

Manche was left behind though and all that was left was the white overalls. However, they were over.

They were free.

-

Here you go!

Hope you enjoy :)

I had so much fun writing this.

Much love,

Ava <3

-

Taglist:

(let me know if you want to be tagged)

@enha-stars @wonuskie @believeinthefireflies95 @esposadomd @peachmartini @rougegenshin

[none-duh-nah]

SIX EYES ON ME

summary: gojo and his lover of the past finding eachother again.

Warnings: angst with comfort, charecter death(s), past life lovers, Lowkey very angsty, fluff if you squint, arrange marriage with love,

You looked at the sky before looking into his eyes only to think the sky mimicked them. His eyes held the sky, the air, your whole world, your happiness, your sadness and everything above and beyond. They were indescribably beautiful.

Different people liked different kinds of wether. Some like a clear sky while some liked a dark and clouded one with no ounce of warmth. You liked the one inside his eyes though.

You and the young Gojo clan heir had been promised to one another the moment you met. You had done it by yourself since it was practically a crime for someone from the Gojo clan and your clan to even look at each other. Yet here you were, standing right where you belong. It could be anywhere really as long as it was beside him.

You were dressed in the purest of white while him in his most formal clothes with his clan emblem on it. Today was the day something so humiliating and unacceptable to the higher ups was to take place. The marriage of the Gojo heir to you. Of course it had taken a lot to get where you were today. You had come across only hurdles and misfortunes onthe way but all that is a different story for a different time. All of it was all worth as you both got to marry person you've been cherishing since the day of your meeting. The person you've been wanting for as long as you can remember. You were so so happy, so was your lover.

You were more than ready for the things that were to take place today. To seal the bond that would make you his forever, to step into a new life, to be happy. But you could've never even imagined what happened afterwards.

Your love who had been your husband for barely 2 whole nights got murdered in cold blood by the Zenin clan head. The Zenin man died before you even got there and your arrival was only to watch your husband die before you. You took one look and knew you were going be widowed. The six eye user was able to see his wife before he closed his eyes. He apologized. She forgave him.

"My eyes will always recognise your heart." He said laying on your lap with only a few more seconds on life left in him.

You looked into his tired eyes with nothing but love and sadness as you spoke to him.

"It belongs to you. I suppose it would be easier to find whats already yours yeah?." Your spoke calmly as ever since your tears could'nt even fall out of your eyes. They were all staying inside barely even appearing. Your heart had been shattered. But the pieces were far from lost because you knew your husband. He always kept his word to you. You would believe him no matter how many odds were against you and him.

"I'm your's too, in every universe, in every possible reality, in every possible life I will be yours. Please find me too sweetheart." he said as he smiled one last time, leaving you in a world that wasn't yours.

"Till we meet again." you said as you felt your tears again. Once they started falling, they kept falling. They fell on him, they fell on your dress, they fell on the floor. They were all you. You cried as you held fhe body of your parted soulmate. Then the sky started crying with you. You hated the sky that wasn't his eyes. You hated the world that wasn't yours. You had lost your mind, your hearf and your soulmate. You died that day.

As soon as you completed your duties as a wife at his funeral you died again. Your heart stopped and you closed your eyes hoping to meet your love when you open them. You did'nt. Well not right away I guess.

You met him again when you joined jujutsu high at the age of 16. You remembered nothing of your past life that ended so tragically.

You remembeded nothing when you saw him for the first time. You remebered nothing when you talked to him for the first time. But you knew it. Your heart squeezed in your chest when he showed you his eyes. Your heart knew who he was and since your heart doesnt have memoey neurons you didnt remember(that was bad i know). You again mentally promised yourself to one another that day.

You met Satoru gojo when you were sixteen even thought you had known him for centuries. You fell in love and had gotten married too. Now you were standing at your shared home wearing nothing but his shirt, doing your skin care in your shared bathroom while he hugs you from the back burrying his head in your hair. He only looked up to have momentary glances at your face in the mirror infront of you as he kissed your neck then and now.

"I just got deja vu." He said tightening his hands around your torso.

"You seem to be getting that a lot these days." You said as you applied a serum on your face with one hand as your other went to sqeeze his bicep.

"Its crazy actually. Its almost like i can see it all." He said placing a small kiss on your cheek.

"Man.. you and your weird six eyes." You said turning around to wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his face close to you."

"What do you even see?"

Then he replied.

"I see my whole world."

You looked at him with confusion. But confusion could never raise your heartbeat like this.

"I see you."

an : i dont know much about traditional Japanese weddings and fhats why i didn't get into many details.. I am a poor asian person whose first is not English so i could only hope you didn't come across MANY grammatical errors... Thank you so mucn for reading! Have a nice day.

[mslowlife]

Mad(e) For You - Part III

Part I Part II

Pairings: Yandere! Ethan Landry x Yandere! Reader

Warnings: Murder, blood, violence, stabbing, swearing, possessive reader

Summary: No one deserved Ethan, especially her. You were going to make sure of it. Only you deserved him.

Word Count: 947

A/N: This part is really short I'm sorry ;-; i've been so busy last few days but I still hope you enjoy <3 thank u all for the support as well <3

Lydia Marrol. What a name, you thought. You repetitively told yourself that of course he had an ex girlfriend, there would always be another before you, but it still made your blood boil. How dare he. He should have known, he should have just been patient and not given in and dated some lowlife like Lydia. Lydia just seemed so amazing, Lydia had the perfect nuclear family, Lydia was just so smart with her scholarship. Gosh, why are girls so dumb you thought, just accepting any follow request they get for the sake of another follower. She practically let you into her life, to her ‘private’ online world. She did this to herself. 

And even though they had been broken up for nearly three months, she still seemed so hung up on him. Always posting some cheesy breakup quote on her story with a sad song, or posting some stupid and unconvincing ‘i’m totally not in love with my ex’ motivation crap. Scrolling through her older instagram posts, you found old photos of Ethan and her together. God. She probably didn’t delete them because she thought they’d get back together. Well they weren’t, you were sure of it.

-

It didn’t take long to find out who Lydia was, you see with some simple sleuthing you could find exactly what school Lydia Marrol attended, what classes she took down to the exact times and days, and what dorm she stayed in. 

Adjusting your coat, you slipped your boots on and headed out the front gate. Finding where Lydia would be this time of evening wouldn’t be too hard, considering she usually spam posts what she’s doing at every time of every day. 

Looking at her timetable, you found she just finished class minutes ago. Perfect. Then, you went on her instagram, knowing she would have just posted some unrelatable crap on story, and yes of course, she did. “study timeeee someone bring me coffee and i’ll love you forever”  After her insufferable story post, you went back to her first story of day, showcasing her ‘OOTD.’ Perfect again. Now you know what to look for.

-

Winter was truly showing how harsh it could be, dark clouds rolled over the city, making the sky darker than it was. Droplets of rain fell from the sky, and in a matter of seconds, rain gushed down in violent showers, causing people to run for shelter or pull out their trusty umbrellas. Taking shelter in a nearby bus stop, you waited patiently. She shouldn’t be too far away now. Lydia took the bus home from school on days like today.

In just the corner of your eye, a blurry figure approached through the spitting rain, they wore a tan coloured coat, a grey beanie and dark blue jeans with a tote bag they kept under their arm. There’s Lydia, you thought. Wiping the seat with her hand, she sat down. Offering a friendly smile to you before reaching for her phone in her bag. You glared at her up and down, how could Ethan have loved her? Loved her? What if he loved her? Why would he? Just the thought of him loving her alone made you fuming.

But rather than losing your cool, just yet, you took a deep breath and scanned around you. Ensuring no one was walking nearby, or any cars were around. 

Lydia’s face lit up from the glow of her phone. She wasn’t going to see this coming. Reaching into the inside of your coat pocket, you pulled out the silver blade by the heavy wooden handle. 

Here goes nothing.

In sudden force, you twisted your body to Lydia, before plunging the knife into her stomach. Her body contorted, buckling beside you as she gasped for air and groaned. Her eyes bulged, swelling with hot tears. Using your free hand, you silenced her by grabbing onto her jaw and covering her mouth. In and out, in and out was the motion of the knife as it punctured her stomach. Blood covered your hands and shirt as you straddled her motionless body to get a better angle of her torso. 

“He’s mine. Only mine” You hissed.

Lydia couldn’t even respond, all she could do was gurgle and choke out incoherent words as blood oozed from her mouth.

“Fuckin’ bitch, think he still loves you?” 

Still no response. You twisted the knife in her guts, she deserves this.

As your adrenaline surged, you ploughed the knife hard and deeper into her stomach until your arms began to ache. 

“Can’t even fucking answer me, can ya?” You berated breathlessly.

Lydia spluttered her final breath, the entirety of her life in the last glimpse and blink of her draining eyes. 

You watched as the blood seeped down her torso, onto the bench seat then as it dripped onto the concrete. Her lifeless body spread on the bench, arms flailed apart from her body and painted with her own crimson red blood. 

The scene to you was beautiful. Your own artwork on display. 

Admiring your work was consuming and all, but as you came down from your adrenaline high, you realised you needed to go. Now.

Before leaving, you quickly changed coats with a new one stuffed away in your bag, then swiftly walked home.

-

Arriving home, all you could stare at yourself in the mirror. The intricate blood splatters on your body, the way it was smeared over your chest and arms. It was fascinating, surreal even. But what would Ethan think, would he hate you, or would he love you for this? Because after all, you did for him. You killed for him.  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Taglist @volturi-girl-imagines @poisonousgem16

[hoonieyun]

ritual chapter four: let me go

ritual chapter four: let me go

ʚ⁺˖↪ masterlist

warnings: mentions of death, terror, murder, horror, violence, near death experiences, manipulation, home invasion, sadism, suicide attempt, depression, overall 18+

word count: 6113

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sim jaeyun, jake, iron grip, searing pain, ribbon of death, and sinister sadist.

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it has been a month since you had moved into your new home and you thought that by now you would’ve fallen into a routine but everyday that passes by it seems that it only gets harder and harder to get through it all. you weren’t sure where this wave of depression came from but it just hit you like a truck one day and has lasted for almost a week now.

you weren’t sure what to do to shake this feeling away. it was moments like this that you really wished that your parents were still around. your mom had a way with words that just instantly pulled you away from under any gray cloud that seemed to storm over you and your dad had a way of making you laugh so hard your jaw would begin to hurt as tears fell from your eyes. 

it wasn’t until a tear drop landed on the framed photo of you and your parents did you notice that you were crying. you felt like you had been crying almost every day since you moved into this new place. it was surprisingly a beautiful day outside so you fought through the sadness that has shrouded you to enjoy the warm feeling of the sun on your skin. you remembered that your apartment offered a rooftop amenity for its residents to lounge and hang out whenever they pleased. 

as you stepped into the elevator and pressed the rooftop button, a cold chill washes over you and that all familiar feeling of being watched comes back. you hadn’t felt like you were being watched lately but whenever you’ve had to step out of your apartment to grab the mail or take out the trash or really late at night when you wander to your kitchen for a glass of water in the dark, it feels like there is a pair of eyes burning a whole into the back of your head. you had even begun doing yoga and journaling to help soothe your worries and troubles but that only lasted a few days. 

the elevator dings once you’ve arrived at the rooftop, you take a deep breath. ready to accept the warm air and sunshine but you’re met with gray clouds that have hidden the sun away. you were confused on how the weather could instantly change in just the last few minutes but you figured that since you were there already you might as well take a gander at what the rooftop had and see if this was a place you could go to when you needed to clear your mind. the rooftop layout was simple but it offered a lot of space, enough to throw a party for a large group of people or to host the number of residents that lived in your building. 

wandering around the rooftop and touching the miscellaneous things that served as decor, the weather only seemed to get chillier the longer you were up there. several throw pillows were laid out across the various couches and chairs with tacky patterns, tables with plastic floral centerpieces that softly blew with the cold wind, and a fire pit in the center of the rooftop that offered a temporary warmth. you thought to yourself why anyone would spend time up here in the cold over a fire pit when they could just be in the comfort of their home under a blanket. something you wished you were doing right now after the failure of coming to the rooftop for some sun. 

the longer you spent up on the roof the more you felt drained, you weren’t sure if it was the complete 180 the weather did or the elevation or what but it seemed like it only made you feel more depressed. you looked up at the sky, hoping that the clouds would miraculously move and the sun would start to peek through but nothing. it even felt like the clouds got darker. 

you began to walk towards the rooftop entrance and back to the elevator when a whisper that sounded awfully similar to your mother’s voice passed by. you whipped your head around at the voice but found nothing. the rooftop still had no other people, it was just you, the tacky furniture, and the cold stale air that seemed to get colder the longer you lingered. just as you were about to continue walking back inside, you heard the voice once again and this time it was a lot louder than before. you swore you weren’t going crazy so you decided to do a lap around the rooftop as if that was going to help you find the owner of the voice that was playing tricks on you when there wasn’t necessarily anywhere to hide. 

the longer you waited for the voice to reappear, the more it felt like you were actually going crazy, calling out to it as if it’ll respond but everytime you did the only thing you heard was the soft whistling of the wind. you find yourself hunched over the railing of the rooftop, your vision directed to the ground that was 10 stories down. an intrusive thought swims its way into your mind as you weigh the outcome if you were to dive and plunge into the solid concrete below. you didn’t know where these thoughts were coming from but the longer you thought about them the stronger the urge became. 

you didn’t even realize it but you had climbed over the railing and were now just holding onto the railing from behind. had you let go and took one step forward you would be plummeting to the ground. just as your fingers slip off the railing, a soft pair of hands find themselves on your wrists, pulling you back over and onto the right and safe side of the railing. away from impending doom. 

the abrupt action causes you to snap out of your depressive trance and you lock eyes with the person who just saved your life. his hands that were once grasping your arms, were now snaked around your waist as he turned you around to face him. your breathing stabilizes and in a second you are brushing yourself off and pulling yourself out of the stranger’s grasp. 

“are you okay? it looked like you were going to jump-” the stranger began to say but you cut him off. “and what about it? it’s none of your business.” you say as you storm off, brushing past him as you shake your head and rub your temples. although you were grateful that the fateful stranger saved you, you weren’t completely sure why you lashed out at him. you enter the building once again and the man enters behind you as you wait for the elevator, the air between the two of you is awkward and you can tell the man was itching to say something. 

just as the man opens his mouth to speak, the elevator dings, interrupting him. the two of you file into the elevator and when you press the button for your apartment, you realize that he hadn’t done the same. “what floor?” you mumble and he seems to beam at the interaction like he was glad that you had said something to him even if it was just two words. “3 please and thank you!” the man says, laying the politeness on thick, maybe as a way to get on your good side after you had let him have it outside. 

the elevator ride seems to go on longer than usual and the awkward tension in the enclosed metal space seems to get thicker. “sorry for what i said out there. i’m kind of going through it right now…” you mutter softly without making eye contact with the stranger, afraid of the embarrassment and shame of lashing out on someone, let alone someone you didn’t even know. when he doesn’t respond right away you look over at him and he’s just smiling at you. “it’s alright. i’m just glad i stopped you from making a horrible decision, is all.” he says and it warms your heart that although you had initially been rude to him he only met you with kindness. your small smile spreads on your face as the elevator dings, indicating it has arrived on your floor. 

when the elevator doors open and you step out, you quickly turn around when he calls out to you, “it’s nice to meet you y/n! my name is jake by the way. i’ll see you around!” jake says in a rushed tone as the elevator doors close at him. you smile at him and for once this whole week, the smile was genuine and you had forgotten all the reasons why you were so ready to end it all just moments ago. you were so focused on this new found “relationship” with jake that you hadn’t even realized he knew your name before you had even told him. 

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as jake saunters into his apartment, while closing his front door, his two brothers, heeseung and jay, appear behind him. “that’s not like you.” jay says, suspicion in his eyes as he watches the younger. jake turns around and looks at his two brothers staring at him with their arms crossed. “what isn’t like me?” jake asks, playing dumb.

“trying to get closer to our sacrifice by being… kind.” jay elaborates and jake snorts at his comment. “i’m nice… just when i want to be.” jake says walking past his two older brother’s and plopping onto his couch. “just make sure you get the job done.” heeseung says before turning into a cloud of black smoke and fading away. jake shimmies into the couch, trying to get comfortable, closing his eyes to get a nap in, but jay’s stare is enough to make him uncomfortable even if he wasn’t human. 

“do you mind?” jake says, eyes still closed as he’s found a comfortable position on his couch to take a nap. jay somehow appears right beside jake, looking down at his brother, gaze on him only intensifying. “i’m watching you.” jay says and jake opens one eye with a brow raise. “you’re always watching.” jake retorts at his brother's statement which wasn’t anything new as jay had the ability of being omniscient. jay suddenly yanks jake up from his position by the collar of his shirt, “don’t test me.” jay says, threatening his younger brother. jake doesn’t respond but as his hand wraps around jays arm that was hoisting him up by the collar, a searing pain begins to burn on jay’s skin; causing him to drop jake back onto the couch. a smirk spread on the younger’s face like he was proud of the pain he had caused his older brother. 

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after returning to your apartment, you decide to call it a night earlier than usual. you had no energy after the events on the rooftop but your thoughts were soon occupied with jake rather than another near death experience. you were starting to believe this place was bad luck with all the times you almost died but after meeting jake you genuinely thought things were going to start turning around. oh, how wrong you were. 

observing yourself in the mirror after a quick shower was something you had avoided recently. if not because you constantly felt like you were being watched, you avoided looking at yourself in the mirror because you hated the way you looked. the bags under your eyes seemed to sink deeper and have grown darker, your skin had become dull in color, and you could just tell that your body was starting to reflect the neglectful way you had been treating it. 

as you stretched your body around you soon realized red marks spread across your arms and waist. after giving the bathroom mirror a wipe to remove the condensation and to get a better look, it seemed like the marks resembled burns; even though you hadn’t burnt yourself. like most nights, you chose to ignore your insecurities and brushed off the marks on your skin. choosing to believe that maybe it was just a small rash from stress or your skin reacting a weird way to your clothes. any reason you could find so that your mind would stop thinking about it.

pulling your blanket all the way up to your chin and releasing a shiver, you soon found yourself drifting off to sleep, a smile on your face as thoughts of jake blend into your dreams. 

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you wake up gasping for air in the middle of the night. a dream that started out normal had suddenly turned into you fighting for your life as an unknown assailant wraps their hands around your throat in hopes of crushing your windpipes and omitting you from breathing in any oxygen. a mixture of coughs and heavy breathing fill your bedroom as you sit up, your hands instantly fly to your neck as a source of safety to ensure that no one was actually choking you. 

looking around the room in a frantic frenzy, you find no one as you rub your neck softly, the feeling of the person’s hands tightening around your throat felt so real. you close your eyes as your breath stabilizes. you try to fall back asleep but you fail as all you have on your mind is the image of the unknown figure who tried to kill you in your dreams. 

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with your eyelids getting heavy, you were finally settling back into a slumber, but it was soon interrupted as the sunlight found its way through the smallest crack within your curtains. you tried to ignore the light and block it by pulling your blanket over your hair but the action itself takes you out of the comfort of your slumber and your mind is now too proactive to even think about the state of sleep you were on the cusp of. 

after closing your eyes and hoping that the sleep would find its way back in, you chose to just get out of bed, the lack of sleep and exhaustian somehow being the only thing keeping you up. your feet, heavy with exhaustian, dragged across your floor as you made your way into the bathroom. you passed the mirror, eyes barely open, as you hop in the shower. the scalding hot water burning your skin in the best way possible. 

you didn’t want to leave the shower because of the warmth and as you expected, as soon as you stepped out of the shower; the cold air nipped at your skin. you would typically walk by the mirror without even giving it a glance but something compelled you. as your gaze fell onto the fogged up mirror, you swiped the moisture away and realized the red marks on your arms from the night before had further progressed. going from a bright red blemish to a deeper more purple red. 

like it was a bruise. 

your eyes trail from the bruises on your arms to its reflection in the mirror, then to the dark bruises around your waist, and to your shock, bruises that had spread over your neck and throat. your hands instantly fly to your neck and although the bruises aren’t necessarily painful when you touch them; there’s a lingering sensation. 

like when someone grips your skin a little too hard and the skin in that area starts to feel like it’s being poked by pins and needles. the bruises were all the same color but different shapes and sizes. if someone saw you it would look like you had just gotten into a fight with someone or maybe even hit by a car. 

or perhaps like you had just fallen from a heightened point. 

you weren’t sure what to do with the new additions that now adorned your skin so you chose to cover up. deciding to wear a long sleever turtleneck to hide away even though you weren’t going to be seen by anyone. 

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you set out for the day, it felt like you haven’t left your apartment or went past the building’s dumpster since you had gotten in town. you ran a few errands, getting groceries, checking out restaurants and cafes in the neigborhood, and overall trying to get familiar with the city. something you should’ve done a while ago. 

the city was surprisingly busy, filled with people who made the same decision as you, to run errands in hopes that because it was a weekday in the middle of the week, everyone else would be too busy with work or other responsibilities. you had finished your errands fairly quickly, your day in the town became a quick one after you decided that grabbing groceries and other necessities would be all that you needed to do. you’d check out all of the different restaurants and cafes another day when it wasn’t so busy. 

after putting your groceries in your trunk, a store comes into view as you close your trunk shut, a bright purple led sign that seemed to glow brightly even though it was midday. a fortune teller. you didn’t really believe in these things but you also didn’t not believe in them. something inside of you ushered you to the direction of the small storefront. the entrance being an old wooden door that fit perfectly for an establishment that did fortune telling. a small bell dings above the door as you enter and an old lady peers from the corner. you weren’t sure what to expect but this lady is exactly who you would think of as the person running the place. 

she had various patterened fabrics draped around her and a colorful skirt that had little gems and jewels that would reflect the light. she greeted you, but not with a normal greeting. 

“there’s someone trying to contact you child…” she says, annpuncing her observation even though you haven't even said anything to her. you gave her a confused look and she waved you over to sit across from her. as you take your seat she unsheathes a crystal ball that was previously hidden by a dark velvet fabric. the crystal ball seemed to lure you in, like it was calling out to you, she snaps her fingers and you break out of your trance. 

the lady shut her eyes and began to wave her hands in a rhythmic motion over the ball. you weren’t sure if you should just sit there in silence or say something but before you could even form a sentence, she began to speak again. “your future is clouded, you must watch out for what ties you to this earth, for it can easily cut you away from it.” she says, eyes slowly opening so she could see your reaction. you didn’t know what to make of her words so you stood up and muttered a small thank you. before you could turn away and leave, she grabs your wrist and puts something in your hands. you didn’t bother to look at the object in your hands until you got back into your car. a small dagger, no longer than 5 inches, with a snake wrapped around it. the snake's eyes were a red gem and it glistened in the sunlight. a part of you was a bit creeped out by it but you chose to just stash it away in your pocket. 

it begins to rain just as you’re parking your car. you quickly grab your groceries from the trunk and tiptoe to the lobby and just as you’re about to enter the building, you slip on a puddle. you quickly shut your eyes and brace for impact but suddenly a pair of toned arms are wrapped around you. when you slowly open your eyes, you’re met with a soft pair of smiling eyes, jake is looking at you with a warm smile. 

“i’ve got you.” jake says as he hauls you back up onto your feet. he picks up your groceries that have fell out of the bag and makes sure you’re alright. you give him a tighlipped smile and mutter a small thank you. too embarrassed to prolong the moment so you quickly shuffle into the elevator so you could hide away in your apartment. 

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it seemed like every time you were in a small moment of distress, jake was there to save the day. 

when you almost fell off the roof.

when you slipped in the lobby.

another time when you were taking out the trash in the middle of the night and a person speeding by on their motorcycle almost hit you but jake suddenly appeared and pulled you off the street and into his arms, like a safety net.

the most recent moment being the incident in the elevator. you were making your way down to the lobby when the elevator stops at jake’s floor. as the door opens and you’re greeted with jake, the elevator suddenly drops a few inches and the lights flicker. you look at jake with a concerned look and when the elevator shakes again, you become frightful at the idea that the elevator would soon plummet to the first floor. 

jake, almost instantly, extends out his hand and you quickly grab it. he pulls you out of the elevator and as soon as you’re completely out of the metal box, the elevator falls to the ground floor. 

you fall on top of jake as he saves you. his arm around your waist to make sure you’re secure and safe as the two of you make contact with the floor. both of you out of breath and shaken up from the near death experience. 

you and jake stare into one another’s eyes and a smile spreads across his face. “you alright?” he asks, his thick australian accent causing butterflies in your stomach. you pull yourself off of him and the two of you get back onto your feet. “this is so embarrassing.” you say, brushing yourself off and jake chuckles at you. 

“don’t worry about it, love. happy to be your knight in shining arm.” jake says jokingly. you smile at his joke, not taking it seriously but you soon think about all the instances that he was your knight in shining armor. 

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you’re in bed, once again trying to fall asleep, but the tingling feeling on your skin is keeping you up. the bruises on your skin eventually disappeared but every other few days they reappeared and seemed to just become more painful every time they returned. you angrily tore off your blanket to head to the bathroom and observe the marks on your skin that felt like they were burning you. 

you stumble into the bathroom, sloppily switching the lights on, and standing in front of the mirror. you felt like your skin was beginning to burn and the pain was becoming unbearable. you tore off your clothes to get a better view of the marks and your eyes widened at the sight of your body. deep red bruises scattered across your body, much worse than the first time you noticed them, only now it left a burning sensation. if you even touched them in the slightest or blew onto it, it burned even more. 

your bottom lip quivered at the pain and you stood there staring at yourself unsure of what to do next. you frantically looked for oinment in your medicine cabinet and lathered it all over your skin. occasionally letting out grunts of pain as your hands grazed over the blistering bruise marks on your skin. you quickly put your clothes back on and grabbed your keys and jacket, deciding to rush over to the nearest emergency room in your city. 

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the drive to the e.r. was quick. good news, you were able to be seen by a medical professional as soon as you got there. bad news, they didn’t have an answer as to why or where the blemishes came from. they offered you a topical cream and some antibiotics in hopes that it would help with the pain, leaving you with advice and to just hope that it’ll go away on its own. 

you were only at the e.r. for about an hour and a half when the doctor dismissed you with well regards and a speedy recovery. you walked back to your car, skin feeling less irritated, but the sensation of pins and needles still remained on your skin. with a slam of your car door, you sat down in the driver’s seat with a huff. a mixture of anger, pain, and exhaustian taking over your body as you settle into your seat and put the key into the ignition. you didn’t know what to do or what to think but your mind suddenly goes to the exact moment you first noticed the marks.

and the next time.

and the next.

and the next.

all of which all had a similar and reoccuring factor. it was all after you had a bout of vulnerability that would’ve led to a great amount of pain. and each time; jake miraculously appeared and saved you. 

₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆☾ ☆ ☽‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊‧⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊☆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ☆ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆₊⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊

jake watched you creep towards the ledge of the roof. legs climbing over the railing and he smiled at the sight. excitement bubbling inside of him at the thought of you being so vulnerable and that he would be able to witness you in such a weak state. 

as he sees your fingers leave the metal railing, he charges towards you and pulls you to safety.

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jake watched you, an adoring smile on his face as you tried your best to balance the groceries in your arms while trying to run inside and away from the run. he watched intently as you slipped on the puddle at the front of the lobby. just moments before, he left the front door open for a few moments to give the rain the opportunity to find its way inside and create the puddle. laughing to himself as he imagined you falling to the ground after slipping. 

just as he sees your body become parralel to the ground and the quick moment you are off your feet, jake materializes and catches you. offering you a warm smile that held something more sinister behind it. 

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jake was surprised to see you out so late at night. he watched you from his bedroom window as you took out the trash. although it wasn’t a part of his plan, jake wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to mess with you and strike fear inside of that pretty little head of yours. 

he watches, eyes following a man on a motorcycle just up the street and in the exact moment right before he collides with your unsuspecting body, jake appears and pulls you into his arms. once again saving you from danger. a smile spreads onto his face as you make your way back inside, amused at the idea of you being so naive and clueless. every vulnerable moment you’ve had was like entertainment to him. 

when he got back inside, heeseung was also walking in; a helmet in his arms as he arrived. jake scoffs and laughs at him. “thanks man.” jake says and heeseung shoots him a confused glare. unaware that he just helped him create a bit of chaos that would surely traumatize you. 

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the elevator almost killing you also wasn’t a part of his plan and quite frankly he was very glad to have been there to save you or else their plans for the ritual wouldn’t have come to fruition. everytime he has saved you, jake embraces every moment of it. every moment that he touched you, he savored, and would crave. thinking about the next time he would get to do it again. 

each traumatic moment you endured through a shroud of vulnerability was all a part of jake’s plan to contribute to the brother’s plan to break you down. each time he touched you, it would leave a mark on your skin and the longer and more traumatic the event, the worse the burns and bruises would progress. 

like the marks on your body caused by jake were a physical representation of the trauma he was inflicting onto you. and he loved every second of it. 

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jake found his way into your apartment as soon as you ran out. he assumed that in your frantic and urgent state, you forgot to lock the door, so he helped himself inside. 

he tried to recall jay’s words of how your apartment looked and where to dig through to try and find the diary. the object that the brother’s have been looking for since you had moved it but have failed to obtain. 

jake sifted through every part of your apartment that jay suggested and even in areas that weren’t on that list. just before he was about to give up, jake’s eyes just so happened to trail over your bookshelf and there he found the leather bound diary amongst all of your books. his usual smile now plastered onto his face as he grabs the book from your shelf. jake taps his fingers on the cold leather but halts in his spot when he turns around and is faced with you. 

he hadn’t heard you come in and he mentally scolds himself for not locking the door much like you did. a surprised but fearful expression on your face as you find jake in your living room. 

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you trudged towards your apartment as you exited the elevator and when you go to reach for your keys in your bag, you find that your door is ajar. you crept inside and a gasp escapes your mouth as you seen jake turn around in the middle of your apartment; holding the diary that you had seen so many other times before. 

“wh- what are you doing in here?” you ask, voice slightly trembling as you recall all of the moments with jake before. now realizing that there was a strong possibility that he may be the cause of the burns and bruises that covered your skin.

you slowly make your way around the living room, afraid of what jake might do, but all he does is watch you from his spot in your living room. his once soft eyes now a deep shade of red, similar to the color of the marks on your skin. jake seems to be watching you like a preator and you were his prey. waiting for you to make your first move so he can pounce onto you. 

with a quick movement to your shelf, you grab a flower vase and throw it at him but he instantly dodges it. leaping over the couch and landing on top of you. his hands were now gripping your wrist with so much strength and soon the familiar feeling of your skin burning came back; proving your assumptions to be correct that jake was the cause of the burns and bruises as you watch the deep red color spread across your arms and darken the veins under your skin. 

you shriek in pain as jake smiles at your agony, his grip only getting tighter. he switches from holding each of your hands with both of his and now holds them above your hand with just one of his hands as he reaches for something in his pocket. he pulls out a white ribbon and admires you for a second.

“i love seeing you like this. so vulnerable and suffering.” he says, his face now merely inches from yours. you jolt your head forward, making contact with jake’s nose with your forehead and he winces at the pain. he shakes off the pain and begins to wrap your wrists with the white ribbon, now angry at your abrupt action. “you shouldn’t have done that, love.” jake says as he finishes tying your hands together. 

he sits you up once he’s done tying your hands and goes back to where he previously stood and bent over to pick up the diary. “you know y/n, you shouldn’t fight us off so much. just give in.” jake says as he picks up the broken pieces of the vase. “fuck, that’s sharp.” jake says as he brings his thumb up to his mouth to suck the blood after he cut himself on a shard of the vase. 

sharp.

you remember that the fortune teller had given you a knife so you reached for your jacket pocket as best as you could without alarming jake. he glances over at you and stop, thinking he has caught you but he turns away and you return to the knife. you flipped open the blade and began to cut at the ribbon but the more friction your skin felt against the ribbon, the more it seemed to burn you. you bit your lip to surpress the painful grunts and once the ribbon had finally torn, you breathed a sigh of relief. 

jake had his back facing you as he threw away the shards of glass into your trashbin. unaware that you had freed yourself and were now creeping up behind him. just as you raised your hand that had the knife in it, jay materializes into the room and tackles you to the ground. causing jake to stumble forward at the sudden commotion. 

jay was now atop of you and you feel a sense of deja vu, like you had been in the position before. he grabs a hold of your face and forces your eyes to bore into his. “sleep.” jay simply says and you become limp in his grasp as slumber quickly takes over your body. 

he sighs and gets to work on erasing your memory of the altercation, all the while scolding jake for not being more observant of your actions. “she really is a feisty one.” jake says, walking over to jay and helping him up. 

“i can see why you like her.” he adds and jay just rolls his eyes at his brother, not bothering to respond. 

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the boys were now all gathered inside of your apartment. heeseung, jay, and jake stand around your coffee table staring down at the diary. the three of them glad to have finally gotten their hands on it. 

“we should burn it.” jake says and heeseung rolls his eyes at him after reminding him what happened when you tried that when you first got there. 

“let’s just lock it away where no one can find it.” jay says, picking up the diary. when he tried to flip through the pages, the book begins to burn brightly and suddenly disintegrates into ash.

the boys, dumbfounded, begin to bicker amongst themselves. jake blaming jay for ruining the diary, jay retorting that it wasn’t his fault and he didn’t do anything, and heeseung trying to get his two brothers to stop arguing. 

sunghoon saunters into your living room, briefly looking around as he’s had the least amount of time in there in comparison to his brothers. “alright!” he says, voicing booming into the room, catching the attention of his three older brothers. 

he walks past his brothers and picks you up from the couch. your limp and unconscious body now in his arms, “i’ll take care of the rest. go prepare the ritual site.” he says. he begins to walk away and athough he was the youngest of the four of them; they all followed his order, like he had some authority over them. 

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sunghoon softly lays you down onto your bed. adjusting your pillow and pulling the covers over you to make sure you’re comfortable.

he brushes a few stray hairs off of your face and takes in your beauty. “soon.” he says with a pause. 

“soon, you’ll be ours.” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

a kiss that doesn’t go unseen by jay as he watches it all happen through his omnicient vision. 

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copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[baileythebean]

OPEN RP :3 (LONG-ASS INTRO, HEAVY BAILEY ANGST, TW: MENTIONS OF MURDER, BLOOD, THROWING UP, SUICIDE, EXTREMELY SAD BAILEY - I’D ALSO LIKE PEBBLE @the-sugar-demonboy TO BE IN THIS ONE IF POSSIBLE, THANKS )

*Bailey had an exact agenda in mind. Scam some lootbag into buying “modern art” at an insane price and then dash. He succeeded, obviously. He’s Bailey. What do you take him for?* *The problem came when he ran into a group of scraps in the alleys who he didn’t know. They were somehow aware of the formation of the sort of alliance that his friends had with Stone, Vinnie and Skipp. After further discussion, it became clear to Bailey that this was a threatening attempt.* “So, what’s it gonna be? You can give us that cash ya got there… or we can turn your little gang against you. How’s that sound?” *The G word alone was enough to make Bailey tense up, but he knew better than to give them a reaction.* ”and how exactly, are you going to accomplish that? You seem like the type of dumb fucks that like to get under people’s skin and never get anything done.” *The same one that had spoken up earlier went on:* “Oh we could uh… I don’t know… inform them of some… plotting you’ve been doing with them pretty weapons of yours. They’re not gon’ feel so safe ‘round you once you’ve been outed as an attempted murderer.” ”But I never-“ ”Oh, we know. That’ll be the fun part.” *He smirked as Bailey’s eyes widened. He was suppressing everything as best as he could, but everything kept coming back up. Like his brain was vomiting up something he was desperately trying to keep down.*

“…Leave me the hell alone.” *He shoved his way past, and hard. He needed to get out of here right now before everything came out.* ”Fine! You seem like the type that’d shoot all of ‘em up anyway if they got on your nerves enough!” (Dammit… I need to get away… fuck, fuck, fuck…) *His mind was clouded and his vision blurred as his eyes welled up with tears. He sprinted away from there as fast as he possibly could. He wouldn’t have been bothered by that petty comment but… he knew all too well what it was like to lose someone to your own two hands. He couldn’t help but imagine Sora, Finn, Jasper, Stone, Vinnie, Skipp - Hell, even Flynn as motionless bodies scattered on the floor. He needed to get it out of his brain. He finally found a quiet, empty ditch in an alley.* (fucking disgusting…) *he thought as he slumped against the wall and he finally let his tears spill down his face.* (I’d never- Yes you would.) *his own thoughts cut him off.* (You’ve done it before.) *the last thing he thought before everything came rushing back to him. The images were too vivid. Like he was seeing them in front of him right now. Brain vomit turned into physical vomit and after a few rounds of violent throwing up, he now had dry heaves. Drenching a tissue in water and wiping his face off, he started to forget how to breathe, how to neutralize his feelings. Why did it have to be like this today? He could normally get over this with a few minutes of mourning everyone… but this? He’d only felt this a few other times. He started to scratch at his shoulders as he hugged his knees to his chest and cried.* (What if I joined them…? Met the same fate myself by the same hands…???) (mod: WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT AM I ON TODAY?? I’M SORRY TO ANYONE WHO LOVES BAILEY AND DOESN’T LIKE SEEING HIM DEVASTATED.)

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

I hope I don't murder me (I hope I don't burden you)

AU in which Lan Wangji stays in the Burial Mounds with Wei Wuxian and the Wen remnants

idea here

Living in the Burial Mounds isn't easy - not that Lan Wangji expected it to be. He's known what he was getting into, and his expectations have been correct - but this isn't about the shoddy houses, the cold, damp cave he shares with Wei Ying or the scarce food.

Lan Wangji is fine with those. He doesn't care about comfort and luxury, and as long as he can be by Wei Ying's side, he doesn't need anything else.

What is difficult is watching Wei Ying grind himself near into nothingness every single day. His cultivation is eating away at him, no matter how much he argues otherwise. Perhaps it's not in the way Lan Wangji thought it to be - Wei Ying is very much still lucid - the corruption comes more from his lack of oversight for his own existence.

He works himself into exhaustion inventing spells and talismans every single day, and he fights off the Burial Mounds' whims every time they shake with resentment and threaten the little settlement's fragile safety. He doesn't eat much, if at all, always arguing he isn't hungry, and he sleeps only when he can't keep himself upright anymore. Lan Wangji gets why he doesn't like to sleep - he has nightmares every time he does, and Lan Wangji struggles to bring him out of them every time, for hours on end, breaking away at whatever horrors the Burial Mounds have conjured for him.

To put it bluntly, Wei Ying is wasting away. And Lan Wangji can do nothing but watch - Wei Ying still won't tell him why he's given up the orthodox path of cultivation, he waves away any concern and though he seems to be appreciating any attempts Lan Wangji makes to bring him food or take him to bed (not like that, they're still on a very limited touch basis), he doesn't seem to be getting that much better.

And Lan Wangji doesn't want him to die. Not now, not like this, not ever. After all, the only reason he left the Lan was so he could take care of Wei Ying, protect him, and perhaps even love him, if he'd be allowed. There must be something he can do to make Wei Ying even just a little bit happier than he is now, even if just for a day, even if only to see him smile - smile again, like he used to before the world turned against him and he found his home with the dead, bright and beautiful and sincere.

--

Wei Ying returns from the markets with Wen Ning in tow, flinging about two empty baskets of radishes. They've had a miraculously profitable day today - turns out, some parasite has ruined the radish harvests in the nearby region, making Wei Ying's radishes the only viable ones around.

"People are going to think you cursed the fields to sell your yield." Wen Qing laughed as she counted the large coin pouch Wei Ying's so proudly given her.

"You know what, I could do that. Technically. It sounds like a very Jin thing to do, but the profits would be massive."

Wen Qing shoves at him playfully. "At least there's Hanguang-Jun to reel you in, you get the most chaotic ideas."

"You're one to talk." Then Wei Ying looks around, pouting slightly. "Where's Lan Zhan?"

"I don't know, around probably?" She shrugs. "To be fair, I haven't seen him at all today now that I think about it. He left just after you two did, and he was carrying something."

"Did he tell you where he'd be going?"

"No."

Wei Ying's expression falls. "Oh... Maybe he's finally had enough of this place and he left..."

"Where to? He's not allowed in the Cloud Recesses anymore."

"He's still talking to Zewu-Jun, so..." A sad smile, "I mean, if you didn't have to, would you willingly stay here of all places?"

Wen Qing sends him a sympathetic look, and reaches to poke his forehead lovingly. "He's not the type to just up and leave like that. He'll be back before you know it. And if he really did leave, I'll hunt him down and gut him alive for you."

Wei Ying tries to laugh at that but he can't, not really. "I wouldn't blame him if he did leave... I just..." He swallows, hard, "I don't know... I'm going to... work or something."

He leaves before Wen Qing can say anything, and gratefully walks out into the harsh winds announcing an upcoming storm, his tears lost in the wisps of cold air and resentment.

--

His cave is lonely as he has forgotten it should be. He hates that he has forgotten it - why did he allow himself to get used to somebody always waiting for him at the end of the day, ready to listen if he had anything to say, or just sharing in the silence? Of course it wouldn't last long.

Normal people don't live in mass graves. Normal people don't - they don't love the people living in the mass graves.

Not that Lan Zhan would ever love him, but...

Wei Ying lights up the candle at his work desk and decides he's not going to be thinking of anything but his talismans and his arrays. They don't give him false hope, they don't make him feel like he matters and then leave out of nowhere. They don't pretend like they care when they actually don't.

A tear messes the characters on his prototype for a cleansing talisman and Wei Ying angrily throws it away over his shoulder, his vision blurry. He's angry and disillusioned and hurt - and he doesn't know why! Of course Lan Zhan would go, why would he stay? What's there for him to stay in this wretched place for? What would even keep him tethered here, to this hellhole?!

Wei Ying flings a hand over his desk and everything falls haphazardly around, tears sliding freely down his face.

Why would Lan Zhan - why would anyone even fucking stay - stay there?! Stay there for... for someone like...

Wei Ying folds his hands into a makeshift pillow on the rock he uses as a table and buries his face in it, crying silently. How could he have been so stupid? Lan Zhan is a good person, but... there really is nothing keeping here, there never has been. And... and it's better if he's gone.

He doesn't deserve to live the rest of his life in the Burial Mounds, around someone that he probably doesn't even really like all that much. He probably just wanted to help cause he's righteous and felt bad for the Wen remnants and A-Yuan... but there's a limit to everybody's kindness, probably. Maybe he got sick of the poverty and the struggles, and having to wake up to Wei Ying's screaming every night, maybe he got tired of being around someone that's... more dead than alive.

Maybe... maybe it's better this way. Wei Ying's probably been an unnecessary burden to Lan Zhan anyway. Even if he tried to keep quiet as he worked at night, even if he tried not to take much of anything for himself so as not to seem greedy, even if... even if...

Wei Ying bought something for Lan Zhan from the markets today. He made so much money selling vegetables that he figured he could surprise the other with a little trinket, switching their roles for once. He would be the one to give Lan Zhan a gift this time - he's helped everyone so much, and of course a little item doesn't balance any of it out, but Wei Ying thought it would be... cute. He thought Lan Zhan might like it... It's an ornament for his robes, two white jade bunnies hanging off a beautifully embroidered blue ribbon.

But now that Wei Ying looks at it, he realizes Lan Zhan would probably hate it. He'd never say it outright, but why would he even like it? It's just a stupid thing that cost too much money.

What has Wei Ying been thinking buying it? Wasting money? Thinking it would mean anything? Trusting? Believing? Hoping? Loving?

What has he been thinking?

---

Lan Wangji returns so late in the night he's quite sure he's about to fall asleep at the boundary of the Burial Mounds. He's carrying a lot of things, including food and alcohol that he must be careful not to spill, fragile items and, of course, his own very sleepy self.

He really hasn't expected all that shopping to take so long, but then again he hasn't done much of it himself until now, so perhaps this is how it should be. Lan Wangji is tired, but grateful - Lan Xichen sent him a lot of money, as he requested, and he could get everything he could think Wei Ying would like.

Lan Xichen doesn't agree with his brother's decision to live in the Burial Mounds - nobody in their clan or sect does. But unlike all the people that have renegaded him and forbade him from ever returning home, Lan Xichen still loves him and helps him with everything that he can, risking his relationship with the elders' council and even his sect leader position to send him money and gifts secretly.

Lan Wangji needs to thank him properly for all that he does, though he doesn't know how. It's through his kindness that Lan Wangji has been able to prepare all these things for Wei Ying. And though nobody will notice the money missing, it's still a risk to take.

The Burial Mounds are jarring to walk into, even more so at night. It's just rained as well, and the smell is even more pungent now, rot and petrichor intermixed with the faintest trace of blood, both fresh and old.

The ground beneath Lan Wangji's feet has softened into a formless mass of mud, and he has to use Bichen's glare to see what he's stepping on, the beings living in it ready to grab at him. They reach their... hands towards him, grunting and growling with resentment, and though he isn’t exactly scared (he’s a cultivator, after all, he can’t be scared), he wishes he could just mount his sword and fly his way home. But the fog of resentment overhead is so thick he doubts he would be able to maneuver, and if he gets lost in it, there will be no way out for him.

He can’t use much of his cultivation knowledge either – that only serves to attract the dwellers of the Burial Mounds, all ready to devour some new flesh, feast on living souls and bring another into their ranks.

So all that Lan Wangji has left to do is focus on where he is going, ignore the bellowing screams in his ears, the terrifying apparitions, the phantom pains – and imagine he will soon be safe, home, with Wei Ying, and he will give Wei Ying a nice, relaxing evening to enjoy after a long day’s work.

He pointedly refuses the laughing voices of resentment that tell him he is not wanted here, that he will only bring trouble, that Wei Ying doesn’t love him, that he should just give up, come join us, come to us, be with us, be one of us...

--

Lan Wangji feels like he’s been born again the moment he steps into the protective array that Wei Ying’s set up to guard the Wen settlement. He can finally breathe fresher air, his mind clears immediately and he’s overcome with a sense of relief that settles pleasantly into his stomach, his limbs only a little bit unsteady with the feeling.

Exhaustion catches up to him as well, and he knows he won’t be able to be awake for much longer – bit he knows Wei Ying is, and Lan Wangji wants to brighten up his mood right now more than he wants to rest.

There will be plenty of time for that later.

With a much lighter heart, yearning almost, Lan Wangji walks into Wei Ying’s cave, barely suppressing an excited smile. Wei Ying is going to be so happy!

--

He finds the cave in disarray, and Wei Ying hunched over his table, asleep, surrounded by a mess of notes, ink and broken brushes. The side of his face shines with fresh tears, his cheeks wet, features drawn into a pained expression.

Lan Wangji’s brows furrow, and he places all the items he’s brought near the sleeping mats, walking up to Wei Ying slowly so as not to startle him.

“Wei Ying?”

Resentment materializes out of nothing, blocking his path.

Leave!

Lan Wangji is tired of this already. He’s heard every variation of that on his way home and he’s running out of patience for it.

Leave him alone! You’ve hurt him!

Now that’s new. He has done no such thing - he’s been so careful to respect Wei Ying’s boundaries, took care of him, did his utmost to help him... the Burial Mounds may be horrible, but they love Wei Ying and they’re merciful to those that are kind to him. And Lan Wangji has been just that, kind and devoted to the point of leaving his whole life behind for Wei Ying, no holds barred and no regrets.

This has never happened before, either. The Burial Mounds have received him... well, if one could say that. He never got attacked before, now that he thinks about it, and though he put tonight’s unrest on the resentment just being more active in the dark, he's realizing that there be more to it than that.

He wants to see what's wrong with Wei Ying, though, resentment and the Burial Mounds be damned. And if he has to physically fight this thing, he will - it's not like that would be new.

Lan Wangji draws out Bichen and decides he's just going to go right through this thing if it refuses to get out of his way. And perhaps this is not a very wise choice, but he is tired, worried and still jarred by all the horrors he's encountered in the way here - but he's charging at it before he gives himself the time to really calculate. It's almost like an instinct, wanting to get to Wei Ying and comfort him, and he won't let anyone or anything stand in the way of that.

Bichen's blade pierces through the mass of resentful energy, and it only disperses enough so it dodges the hit. Before Lan Wangji can realize, pain overcomes him from everywhere inside him, as though all his organs have ruptured all at once. He doesn't want to scream, but it's ripped out of him before he knows it, and, for a moment his vision blacks out. He distantly notes that he's never faced resentment this strong, and wonders whether this is the kind of thing Wei Ying had to live through in the three months that he was away. He hopes not. He hopes that this is just the Burial Mounds deciding to hate him in particular, and that it was different for Wei Ying back then.

He coughs out a mouthful of blood and realizes he's dropped his sword at some point. He tries to summon it, but he can't find enough spiritual energy in himself to do it. Is this how he's going to die? Will Wei Ying have to wake up and find him dead? Maybe there will be nothing left of him for Wei Ying to find, that would be easier to deal with, right?

The world is starting to become fuzzy at the edges, or maybe it's just Lan Wangji's tears blurring his vision. He wants, selfishly, his last image to be Wei Ying, and he makes the herculean effort to move his eyes towards where he's still asleep.

Perhaps Lan Wangji is indeed dying - because he thinks he sees Wei Ying jump awake and scream.

--

There is a song.

Lan Wangji recognizes it, it flows around him like a soft, gentle warmth, beckoning him towards... somewhere. He doesn't know where, he doesn't even know where he is right now - doesn't even feel like he is anywhere or anything at all. But even as he is, formless and incorporeal, he's compelled to follow the song, beautifully played on a flute.

It's his song, he made it. He made it for the person he loves, even if he didn't know it at the time and even if it is that person that doesn't know it now.

Slowly, like waddling through deep, heavy waters, Lan Wangji returns to his body. He feels warmth around him, and realizes he's leaning against someone's chest, their heartbeat rhythmic in his ears. The knowledge makes him smile, the movement difficult but inevitable.

"Lan Zhan, are you awake yet?"

"Mn..."

He feels Wei Ying kiss the top of his head, running a hand down his back comfortingly.

"You feelin' better?"

"Mhm."

There is a pause. Lan Wangji can hear the heartbeat underneath his ear quicken, and Wei Ying takes in a deep, shaky breath.

"I'm sorry." he says, at last, his voice soft. "This is all my fault... I thought you left and... you know resentment responds to my emotions so it thought... it was-"

"Trying to protect you." Lan Wangji interrupts, "I get that."

"Lan Zhan... you almost..." another deep breath. "This shouldn't have happened..."

"Wei Ying-"

"No, listen, I-I found... the things you got for me... You're always so good and so kind to me and to everyone else, and you've sacrificed so much for us, we all really don't deserve you. I don't deserve you."

Lan Zhan finally manages to open his eyes, blinking to adjust to the faint lighting in the cave. "Why are you talking like you're wanting me to leave?"

"Because I do."

Lan Zhan lifts his head, confused, to look at Wei Ying, and sees his eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"It's dangerous for you to be around me, Lan Zhan. You shouldn't be risking your life living here, and if you ask Zewu-Jun, maybe he'll convince the elders to-"

"I don't want to leave you, Wei Ying."

"And I don't want you to die because of me."

Lan Wangji reaches a hand to hold the side of Wei Ying's face, wiping the tear that's just fallen down his cheek. "Don't make me leave, Wei Ying."

"Lan Zhan..." Wei Ying covers Lan Wangji's hand with his own. "I had to - I had to put your soul back into your body... You died. I held you as you died. What if I fail next time and I lose you forever?" Wei Ying holds him tighter now, a slight shake to his body as he cries. "I'd rather let you go alive, than live with the knowledge that I-"

It takes all of Lan Wangji's strength to lift himself up enough to leave a soft kiss over Wei Ying's trembling lips. "I love you."

It feels so freeing to say it that Lan Wangji wonders why he held onto this confession for so long, why it took him so long to say it.

"I love you." he repeats, and the words taste sweeter than any dessert he's ever had. "And I don't want to be away from you. I want to share my life with you."

Wei Ying leans down to kiss him back, and Lan Wangji realizes he's never been happier than right now, nothing he has ever achieved has ever felt like the fireworks Wei Ying's lit under his skin.

"What if there will be no life to share, Lan Zhan?" He asks, smiling, tearfully, as he traces the seam of Lan Zhan's lips.

"Then I'll come back to you in the next one."

[yunessa]

Owlcatober 25: 'Smooth'

Spoiler free Kenabres excerpts of Ramien and Yunessa.

“I was starting to wonder if you were all part of my imagination Ramien. If you had kept your hood up I wouldn’t have been able to find you.” The Aasimar priest sat in the forges, his metallic hair gleaming in the warm light of the smithy. In his hands was a cup of coffee still steaming. 

Ramien gave Yunessa a smile. “You should see when I tried to dye it a year ago. It was a disaster.” He started to rise. 

“Stay seated Ramien. You look tired.” The smithy was small- one the inn used to rent out to adventurers- but was well kept. The glowing embers in the forge kept the space comfortably warm. “I wanted to see how you were doing.”

“I’ve been doing whatever I can. Comforting people, healing them…” He smiled sadly. “... but unfortunately Desna has not allowed me the power to return the dead. With the demon attack repelled and your victories in the city, it seems to have calmed it a little.”

“And how are you doing yourself?” Yunessa asked. Ramien’s sad smile faded with the look he gave Yunessa, one of wry humour.

“You know me already. As for myself- I’m here and doing what I can to help. There have been a few problems- cultists sneaking in, an attempted murder in the Inn’s basement- but nothing Commander Tirabade hasn’t handled.” He took a drink from his cup. “She’s handled it so well I only heard of it after the fact.” 

Ramien’s eyes were as unusual as Daeran’s. But his eyes looked like jewels. The purple shined and gleamed in a way that only jewels only caught the light, the colour rich.  Daeran’s were pale, like the greenish-topaz stones in the ring he gave Yunessa as payment. If violets could be jewels…

“You’re staring.” Ramien wagged a finger at Yunessa. There was amusement written on his face.

Yunessa felt their face heat up, but not from the forge. They coughed. “Sorry, I was studying you-”

“Staring intently at my eyes while you studied?” Ramien asked, his smile sly. “How studious.”

“Alright Daeran.” Yunessa rubbed at their jaw as Ramien chuckled. “But to answer you right- I haven’t met many aasimar. You and Daeran are one of the only three I’ve seen and talked to so I was studying you.”

“Am I that handsome?” He asked coyly and Yunessa pretended to stare at him more intently.

“Wellll…” Yunessa drawled out. “I guess, since you caught me staring I have to say yes.”

“And if I hadn’t?” His eyes gleamed with humour.

“I’d have to say it was close but.” Yunessa made a show of running their hands through their hair and giving Ramien a wink. “You’re not me, so you’ll have to take second place.”

Ramian chuckled, a rich sound that seemed to brighten the forge. “My parents were both elves, I might end up coming out ahead of you.” His smile remained when Yunessa pretended to gasp but continued: “If you haven’t met many of us before then it’s natural you’d stare. We don’t share similar characteristics but we all stand out in our own ways.” Ramien took a long drink from his cup before setting it aside. “Speaking of standing out, how has Daeran been? I was surprised to see him with you.”

“He’s been fine. He’s upset Lann a few times with his words but they seem to be fine- at least the last time we came back they were amicable.” Yunessa answered honestly and Ramien blinked at them. “He has a sharp tongue. But honestly,I haven’t found it bothering me. His knowledge of the city and current events has been very helpful.” -

Yunessa just felt nauseated and tired. Standing in the outdoor air of the courtyard helped as a cold breeze caressed their face. The Eagle Watch and Crusaders were making their final preparations and Yunessa was gathering their thoughts.

“Are you going to the Grey Garrison?” Ramien’s voice came from their right.  The aasimar priest moved to stand next to Yunessa. “It’s a ridiculous question to ask now that I realise it.” 

“It’s allright Ramien.” Yunessa bit back a yawn as a bum of sunlight broke through the clouds. “I am going with them. My companions should be joining soon- I came here early to see the fall weather before we grouped up.”

“I saw you talking to Klaem. Is he going with you as well?” Ramien’s gold hair shined in the daylight.

“He wants to cast a ritual before we start when all of my companions are with me. He says he can manage a haste spell that will last hours instead of minutes.” Multicoloured autumn leaves fell down, dancing when the wind blew. “Irabeth already discussed the plans and right now I think she’s checking the defences. If we don’t come back this place will need to hold on its own until the army arrives.”

“I actually came to offer my help as well.” Ramien smiled. “If I may?”

“What kind of help?” Ramien’s smile turned cryptic at Yunessa’s question, gesturing for them to turn around. 

“Turn around and I’ll fix your hair for you.” His smile remained as Yunessa turned around, moving closer. 

“I didn’t sleep well, I forgot.” Yunessa admitted.

“You know,” Ramien murmured, lowering his voice. “Desna is an unpredictable goddess.” Yunessa almost started when Ramien’s hands touched their hair. “Who knows how she will come to the aide of her faithful children?” His hands were warm as he pulled back Yunessa’s hair. “I had a dream where she sang the demons a little lullaby and they fell into a deep sleep just like innocent babes.”

“Did she?”  Ramien tying their hair for them brought back fragments of a memory. A woman with blond hair over an Inn's kitchen sink. Wet hair. Brush in her hand. Clothes befitting a mage's apprentice. She was angry her braid was crooked when I  braided her hair. Told me to go ahead to- where?  Vague blurry faces, a feeling of sorrow strong enough that it made Yunessa grimace before they shoved the memory away.

“Yes. I’m going to use one of my hairsticks Yunessa, this string won’t hold in a fight.” Reamien reached for the bag at his belt, searching through it.

“Hair like yours and you’d pin it up? You’re doing the rest of us a disservice Ramien.” Ramien’s chuckle seemed to make the space around them brighter. “If my hair looked like gold I’d show it off often.” 

“Your hair reminds me of clouds.” He finished the bun he’d made with the hairstick and string . “But far softer.” Turning their head back Yunessa wasn’t certain if Ramien was joking with them but something in his gaze made them pause.

“You’re-”

“You should go find your companions.” He urged Yunessa on. “I will be here when you return to tend to your wounds- and prepare for the celebration when the Worldstone is saved.” He was smiling warmly at Yunessa as they left, his hands clasped in front of him witha smile on his face.

[isobelleposts]

“Eat The Rich” — My Favorite Genre in Film

by Isobelle Cruz [February 1, 2022]

The Menu (2022) dir. by Mark Mylod

The phrase in the title comes from political philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s quote, “When people have nothing to eat, they will eat the rich.” The last film I watched that had me surprised they did not literally eat the rich was The Menu by Mark Mylod.

This film never took itself too seriously despite its center around the wealthy and the lengths they go to just to experience the finer things in life. It is fully aware of its bizarreness and adds bits of humor here and there, making it enjoyable despite mostly taking place in one setting.

As the first film I had seen this year, The Menu truly sets up expectations and a fresh path to more of what the industry has in store for the rest of the year. Moving on, here are four more films to see if you enjoyed The Menu:

Triangle of Sadness (2022) dir. by Ruben Östlund

Starting off strong with one of my final watches of 2022 that had me saying “what the fuck?” under my breath every few minutes is Triangle of Sadness directed by Ruben Östlund. What initially caught my interest in watching this film was a clip in the opening part wherein we see a bit of the modeling industry and its quirks, or so, ridiculousness. What I didn’t know, and certainly wasn’t prepared for,  was what I would witness next.

I went into this film after refraining myself from spoilers or even a hint of what it could be about, preparing myself to be either disappointed or pleased with what I was about to be met with. And that is exactly what I suggest to you as well. Ditch the synopsis and logline and head straight into this experience. Just know that you’ll be met with great dialogue, delicate cinematography, and a whole lot of shit—both figuratively and literally.

Parasite (2019) dir. by Bong Joon-ho

Behind my little song to the clouds to tuck its raindrops away, a certain thought would always lie at the back of my head while growing up. As we celebrate a class suspension and give thanks for the chilly weather in the desert-like heat of the Philippines, I wonder what life is like for those living by the rivers, whose roofs are made with cheap iron or yero and whose walls are made of thin wood.

It hasn’t occurred to me before how important these thoughts were until I encountered this film a few years back. Parasite presents its audience with the rich’s ignorance of their surroundings and several contrasts between the everyday life scenes of a wealthy and poor family. 

Parasite is precise, well-written, and surely deserving of its multiple awards.

Knives Out (2019) dir. by Rian Johnson

Whodunnit—-they say that when you see them once, you’ve seen them all. And that may be true, but Knives Out’s fast pacing and quick cuts from past to present still kept my eyes glued to the screen. It’s a classic murder mystery, encouraging the audience to say things like “It’s too early on for such an obvious clue.”

This will keep you thinking throughout its length, asking questions again and again in your head, eager to beat the ending before the killer’s reveal. Though predictable for some, Knives Out nonetheless offers a fun view into the world of a money-starved family and their deceased father, along with a bunch of odd and entertaining characters.

The Handmaiden (2016) dir. by Park Chan-wook

Of course I found a way to sneak The Handmaiden into this list. 

The film follows Kim Tae-ri’s character who falls in deep romance with Lady Hideko, the woman she works for. Just when you think it is about to finally end, a sharp turn comes and it’s as if the story had only begun then—this happens thrice, by the way.

As we go further along the story we encounter money’s play in the wickedness of men and are left with our mouths agape after another unexpected revelation or scene. 

The Handmaiden is not only a story of forbidden romance between two women but also a showcasing of comradeship and care for another in suffering. Looking past its long length and adult scenes is a mind-boggling and thoroughly written story accompanied by excellent direction, camera work, and acting.

[jackietaylorsghost]

i'm curious, do you know why or have and theories on why they make cloti kiss but clerith only hug/hold hands? I was thinking that clerith is more pure and their love is slowly blossoming aka slowburn which I find cute and very fitting for them but the clerith shipper in me is angry bc I would have loved to see them kiss LOL what are your thoughts?

I’ll be real with you, I don’t think either ship should have had a kiss yet and im astonished CT did and how it happened, i think its spoiled all the build up having it there when they’ve been arguing a lot and that it would have been so much more poignant after the LS sequence but now the moment is gone on a poorly framed kiss they’re never going to talk about again bcus it has no relevance to the plot. Thats why they have them agree not to talk about it. I think it’s a shame for people who have waited for 27yrs for that moment. And then after it no matter what they all have to play as Cloud has many non optional romantic moments with Aerith in ch 13 + 14. Reviews have mentioned how off and disjoined it is. I think that’s why they made sure to emphasise before the game came out that the dates were meant to be fun but don’t impact the story. But id be pissed if id waited that long for a kiss and that’s how i got it. and especially that in one route cloud looks like a dick but in another he doesn’t; that should really tell them something about the story. Why they gave them one idk, but I kinda wonder if it was getting them on the hook for p3 cus the last 2 chapters made CT fans real mad (even if they’re pretending otherwise on main, ppl have seen their discord and they’re not happy).

I think CA don’t kiss for a few reasons:

Cloud has remembered Zack, albeit incorrectly, much earlier. Through the game he has instances of jealousy towards him and that becomes more uncomfortable and confusing once he’s remembered they were friends. This has just happed before the dates and why when they get on skywheel he’s a bit awkward and won’t sit beside her! Of course that doesn’t last long; it was either nojima or nomura but one of them said in remake that cloud tries to keep distance between him and Aerith but he can’t do it 🥰🥰 but Zack definitely makes him more reluctant and unsure. Even when he reaches to take her hand it’s slow and cautious bcus he doesn’t know if it’s okay. And of course it is!

Aerith is fully aware Cloud is not himself. On his GS date she tells him she’s trying so hard to find him but in case you missed that as you did a different date, she also says it again in the sleeping forest; that cloud should focus on the real him she’s been looking for and leave Sephiroth to her. She knows there’s something up and kissing him knowing that is not something I think Aerith would do.

CA are the love that could never be ship. In the trailer for the 97 game, that was what they were described as. Part of the tragedy of clerith is that they have these budding feelings but before they have a chance to go anywhere Aerith is murdered. In the original cloud realises the depth of his feelings too late: at the end he says ‘I think I understand now’ and then expresses his desire to meet Aerith in the promised land. And all crossover material he’s in emphasises that he’s always looking for her. They are a star crossed lovers ship. And cloud is also dense and emotionally a mess; yes he likes her clearly, he shows jealousy for Zack, he goes on dates with her, he holds her hand and looks so happy to do so, but he can’t put all those feelings he has and come up with the right answer. In the church she confesses and he doesn’t quite get it and she, linking to her resolution imo (don’t fall in love with me) drops it and apologises and hugs him instead. This is all in line with the OG, that he’ll be hit with the full force of his feelings and what she meant in p3. Remember he’s just said he wants to go on more dates to create more ‘our spots’ with her. She looks happy and then sad when he says this because yay he likes her he wants to do this again, but of course she knows what he doesn’t: that they are about to run out of time.

So that is why I think they don’t kiss. I think it makes sense they didn’t! But I do think they’ll kiss in p3 for sure.

[passcode58]

Not Requested |

Pure Fluff |

High school Gojo Satoru x Reader 

Warnings | spoilers, death, suicide. (Bery brief)

You were always fond of purple skies because they were beautiful and serene. But now those demons took on a new meaning of their own. Purple skies now adorned the mask of sorrow and pain, as you saw the clouds reflecting in his pretty brown eyes, now dull and hollow. "I don't give a fuck bout what you did. I don't give a shit about Manami— about who she is, or who they are. I still fucking love you." It was too much, you felt sad, hurt, angry, jealous. Who the hell was that woman and why was she with him!? For how long, for all these years?? You would go after her personally if you had to, you wondered if she did his hair for him, if she helped him.sleep at night when he couldn't bear the weight of the world anymore…it was sickening. You could feel your body grow weak with the upcoming sweep of sorrow and resentment., and you couldn't keep your composure anymore as tears slid down your face and your heart took a rhythm you couldn't keep up with.

"(Y/n)…don't."

"No Suguru, you don't. You broke my heart…you ruined my life! You just fucking left, dammit— Suguru, you…you murdered all those people in cold blood but I don't care just please don't do this— You dying is something I just cannot forgive. You said you're the strongest, then get the fuck up. We can hide you away, I can take you away from here you, I can  you! You can live just don't fucking do this please —

It all falls silent when his meet yours, and you taste blood in his saliva. And he mutters, softly, in that voice you longed to hear for all those broken and god-forsaken years. "Even after this time you still call me…in that sweet pretty voice. Delicate like a flower's petal…and I hate that I yearn to hear it more, because I'm selfish. At least let me feel hated for my actions…"

"No, I could never hate you. You're my first love. There's no man, and I mean no man on this earth, no action committed, no creature, no hell, that could make me hate you. You…I—,"

"I did everything because I love you, (Y/n). Make no mistake. I did this…because I'm stupid, but not stupid enough to love any other than you."

"But I don't care, Suguru. I just want you, I want you to live, and come home with me— with us. We need you Suguru, I…I swear to God I'll kill myself if you die here." it was desperate, his blood soaked your clothes, crimson red, like a black widow's back. And the sorrow bites into you, poisoning you and paralyzing you with fear as you struggle to come to terms with the truth. This man, this dying man was your high school lover. Your first love, your everything…and here he is, once noble, a bloodied and bruised up criminal with a target on his head. The pretty head you loved to kiss. 

"You won't, because he wouldn't let you." And you fall limply into his arms when you hear more footsteps approaching, and you desperate as the cold wind hits your skin, eyes glossy with tears, shirt wet with ruby red blood. "Toru, please help me." but the white-haired male doesn't respond. He's devoid of emotion and you don't know why but that breaks you even more, because here he is, the strongest, but you can see, his feet tremble and his lips quiver. Other than you, Geto Suguru is the only man who could bring Gojo shambles like this. To break past his barrier of infinity and year through his golden heart. To let all love bleed like blood on the streets. 

"You're late Satoru.

And you swore to God that Geto wasn't the only person who died that day.

…

Quite frankly, Gojo refused to go on certain missions alone because he wanted you close to him. It's times like this, when you lay together in the same bed where you fall apart, and he does what he does best and fucks you senseless. "I know you'll never love me the way you loved him." He's still in you, his head resting on the space between your shoulder and your neck, as he presses gentle kisses on this particularly rough day.

"That isn't true."

"He was your first love, I know this because I could never love someone the way I love you." It's funny that you liked  to wash the pain away and drown it in pleasure instead, but you were crying. Not tears of joy or euphoria, just broken, old, sad, sappy tears. "Satoru I—"

"He was my one and only, and I can't even imagine what he meant to you. I swear on my life, I feel sick for doing this, for sleeping with you knowing I could never…that I can't— that I can't be him for you, or replace him. I feel sick, because I feel like I'm not enough for you. I let your lover die…because I was too oblivious and didn't reach out to him even when you did." His words are sick, and you could feel the tears "You always did while I joked it off instead, or brushed it off, I never looked deeper because I never believed I had to…but (Y/n) I want to do it right this time. You're all I have left, so I want to do this right. I don't want to fuck you when you're sad, I want to make love to you, I want to be there for you with each breath you take, to eipe your tears of pain, and being those of joy. I…I want to be yours, and not just as the strongest, or as Gojo, but as satoru Gojo, your best friend. 

Your breath is taken from you when he raises his head to look you in the eye, and he's so broken, but beautifully so. Like a swan, a pretty swan who lost their lover. You don't want Satoru to be broken, because you love him— not as much as Suguru, you worshiped the very ground Suguru walked on, but you loved him nevertheless.

"Satoru, nothing and no one can compare to your beauty and brilliance—" you gasped, when he pulled you in for a rough, desperate kiss, words lost on his tongue.

"We're both beautifully broken—"

"But we both know we can't fix each other, because we're fucked up, we're messy, we care too much, and that's why we're hurt. We care too much for this world, but we can't escape, you're the strongest—"

"We are the strongest, and that's why we are fucked up. The day I was born, the balance of the universe was tipped, and I dragged you— you of all fucking people into this shit, into my shit."

"And I don't care. If I die as a sorcerer, it's in your arms, by your side, fighting for you or by your own hands."

[starres-stuff]

Day 4- Reticent FFXIV Write 2024

Reticent: not revealing one's thoughts or feelings readily.

“Viviane we are Noblewomen we should not cry at every funeral or sad moment in our life it gives those out to harm us the upper hand.” The words rolled off her tongue with surprising accuracy regarding how her Mother sounded when she launched into another lecture. 

It was just about Twelve Bells and she sat in the office of one Father Ashax at the Cathedral. She was quite good at being on time now and she enjoyed her weekly chats with the Priest, as they encouraged her to heal the more she expressed about her past. 

“I hear this type of upbringing occurred in Noble families rather consistently. A pity, expressing, our emotions is a rather important thing in life. We should be able to tell others if we are happy or sad. What happens when you try to communicate what you feel?” The older man with his silver-gray hair was in the process of pouring cups of Ishgardian Tea and adding this week's treat; rolanberry scones to the desert plate in the middle of the desk between them as he asked his question. Viviane often considered this his superpower as she could not fathom how it was done. 

“It feels like I am frozen in a block of ice, or someone has stolen my voice from my body and locked it away. I try to communicate how things make me feel, I can hear my inner voice put it in perspective for me. Physically I can express” Viviane paused for a moment, her cheeks flushing as she added on “I can have an entire conversation with my husbands sexually” She cleared her throat “And without saying a word during in the process. I feel broken and it all traces back to being told by my Mother to keep my feelings to myself that no one else needed to know them. 

Down, the Priest sat now, a soft sigh of relief came from taking the pressure off of his knees and relaxing back into the softness of the chair, his hands folding neatly on his desk to reveal his signet ring with Halone’s symbol on it. “You are not broken Viviane, you are reticent as are many of your peers. You were raised to be this way by a woman who had many reasons not to feel herself. She was a divorcee, her eldest child never saw adulthood and there was speculation that she was involved in her Parents’ murder. All of these things are excellent examples of events that teach us not to let others see how we feel.” 

Viviane stared across the desk, the fine line of her ruby-painted lips curling into a sneer that told the tale of how offended she was in the moment by the Priest defending her Mother's practices, but the watery blue eyes that held her gaze stopped her short, he had always been unbiased in all the conversations they had but he was also quick to point out when her hate for her Mother was clouding the truth and producing a reaction she would have otherwise suppressed in polite conversation. 

“Well, how do I learn not to be reticent?” The thought of being able to communicate how she felt vocally was both terrifying and exciting. She wanted to be able to speak up, share her thoughts, and express when someone hurt her feelings without the fear that doing so would cause those people to leave her. 

“You practice. You find people like myself that you can speak your mind to. I do this every day with my survivor groups from the Dragonsong War. They are often reticent as well, and I have seen many make full recoveries by letting their truths out.” It was then he reached out to grab a scone, one bite leaving a dusting of crumbs sprinkled on his mustache. 

“I will have you know this is a terrifying prospect, this speaking up for myself. Do you want to teach me to do that?” Viviane’s hand reached for a scone and brought it to her lips, a gentle bite causing fewer crumbs to appear on her lip than on the Priest’s. 

“Why yes Baroness, I do want to teach you to do that.” The priest offered her a small smile, pleased with where their conversation had arrived at its end.

[honeybewrites]

Five Lines Tag 2

Thank you @kaylinalexanderbooks for the tag!! Part 1 is here.

Rules: Find five lines based on the prompts you are given, then change ONE of the prompts at the end.

CW: mentions of injury, mentions of blood, cursing

A line about a building

Death was the on constant in 703’s life. She could always count on someone trying to murder her, and if someone wasn’t trying to kill her, she was the one killing them. A vicious, never ending cycle. It was just an occupational hazard at this point. A rather annoying one at times, but she’d more than accepted it. Case in point, her current situation. The building was on fire. Creaking and groaning as the structure slowly gave way. The screaming and gunfire didn’t help the situation. Her own body was screaming in pain. A few bullet wounds, a couple burns, and probably more lacerations than she should have. She still had plenty of time though. Nothing was an immediate deterrent from her mission. The odds hadn’t been in their favor. Not many people could handle Mors Assets unprepared. Still. It was a little pitiful to be honest. She had expected more. At least some deep stab wounds, a couple bullets in her, even some elemental effects. Instead, she’d only gotten a couple bruises, minor cuts, and a few burns. Most of which were from the fire she started.

A sad line (this one is pretty old and I'm not sure if it'll make the final cut like this, but it'll probably end up in EoWC in some form)

She struggled to hold off the massive cloud of Tan Assets attempting to break through. The barrier would’t hold for much longer. The ship needed to be far out of range by then. It needed to be in the Bridge. And Rage refused to get on. “Go!” She screamed at him. Desperation and fear rolled off him just as visible to her as the blood and sweat soaking his clothes. “No!” Rage said, the storm in his eyes that earned him the nickname coming to life. “I am not going to leave you! Either we go together or not at all!” As sweet as the sentiment was, it was stupid. There was no way for them both to escape. Not with the Mors so close and pressing. Both of them staying behind wasn’t an option either. Then they would both be captured. She would get dragged back and Rage would be killed. Brutally, and slowly killed in front of her so she never tried to escape again. A stay blast of energy broke through the barrier and hit her helmet. Cracking it and tearing off a large piece. The smoke stung, clouding her vision. But when she looked up at Rage, she could still see every ounce of color drain from his face. There were so many emotions rolling off him, that she could barely breathe through them all, let alone process them. She still smiled.  “Go, please.” “No I—” “It’s okay. Really. It’s enough to know you’ll get away. Just find Fres and… and they’ll keep you safe. And… and tell them I’m sorry. I would have liked to see the stars with them.” Tears rolled down her face. “And I want you to live a life, Rage. Find someone you care about, see the world, whatever you want to do. I don’t want this to stop you. Just... don’t-don’t come back for me. Swear to me you won’t. There won’t be any of me left to save.”

A line about the weather

703 glared up at the twin suns. She hated Realm Zj'ahju. It was always so hot. Boiling hell. The cloudless midday sky wasn't helping anything. Ash clouds would have been preferable. And she still had two more days of walking in this unbearable weather. She'd have preferred to be in a Realm's polar caps. Freezing, she could deal with. Heat? Not so much. It made her want to tear her skin off.

A line that is shouted (from Rage's POV, so not strictly in EoWC but I still love it)

"You assigned me as her handler, her healer, and that's what I'm going to do." "You're exaggerating!" Gerd argued, snarling at him. "She's not a normal Asset!" "No she isn't! And she's not the machine you expect her to be!" He snapped back. "If you don't like how I'm doing my job, then fire me! But I'm not going to sit back and let you work her to death because you refuse to let her have more than ten minutes of peace! I don't give a rat's ass about how you feel. So shut up, and let me do my job."

A funny line (so maybe not exactly a funny line, but it was fun for me to write it)

"I'm not going to keep calling you 703," he said, screwing his face up. "I need to call you something else." She didn't bother looking up from her commpad. "I go by A-703." She wasn't going to fall for this obvious test. Master Airvix was silent. At least he dropped to subject. She couldn't understand why Master Gerd would have him put so much effort into these tests. Sure. Every now and then to try and throw her off. But the constant nagging seemed excessive. "Malineya." The mental image of an angry toddler, kick their patent's leg popped into her mind. It was an old Miri word. Hardly ever used except by old grandmas referring to troublesome grandchildren. When she looked up, Master Airvix was smirking, clear amusement on his face. "If you won't tell me your name, then I'm giving you a nickname," he said firmly. "Malineya." "Ferocious little one," she said slowly. "You're calling me an angry toddler?" He shrugged. "Seems appropriate. You're shot, angry, and violent. I can't think of anything that fits better."

Tagging @the-golden-comet @anaisbebe @katenewmanwrites @nczaversnick and anyone else who wants to hop on!!

Your lines are:

A line about a building

A sad line

A line about sleeping

A line about the weather

A funny line

[br1ghtestlight]

they're wearing their raincoats so for me this is already a 10/10 episode. love when they wear their raincoats!!

not big bob and tina going on the toddler rides at amusement parks together. LESS THRILL MORE CHILL. truly two autistic peas in a pod <3

big bob is seventy five (at least according to louise) this is important lore. also this means bob's dad is the same age as his gayass old man landlord who flirts with him every other day FJDMDJDKSMS according to my caculations big bob would've been 29ish when he had bob which means he met lily when they were in their early twenties. that also means (assuming that lily was the same age as big bob) lily would have been around 43 when she died although the math doesn't add up 100% if you consider her being born in 1941 because it would mean this episode takes place in 2016 which it doesn't. am i overthinking this one-off line where louise guestimates big bob's age??? yes i am thank you VERY MUCH.

LMAOO NOT THE BIG BOB REPUBLICAN DOOMER ARC OH NOOO

big bob making conversation while spending the day with his very young grandchildren: so have you considered that the world is terrible and people are awful and we should all kill ourselves? thoughts?

(im sure that isn't what bob meant its just funny to imagine big bob depression posting circa 2013 tumblr @ his grandkids all day)

ALSO this implies bob has been talking to big bob more regularly lately which is great. they're working on their relationship. a little bit :)

BIG BOB FOR REAL BEING A QANON TRUTHER EXCUSE ME???? THE FUCK. ohh he's literally a doomer he's watching videos about the upcoming apocolypse and how to ration food. HE'S A CLIMATE CHANGR DOOMER ITS SO OVERR im sorry thats so funny im obsessed w/ him

also our first time ever seeing (what im assuming is) bob's childhood home!! very cute. and he made them cookies

BIG BOB COMING TO VISIT BOB AT HIS RESTAURANT???? HUGE WIN???

why is big bob calling bob randomly to talk about how the world is ending and tigers are going extinct what is GOING on. at least he believes in climate change??

"like he's getting ready to..... leave the party. so he doesn't feel bad about telling everyone how much the party stinks" DONT TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT if there's an episode where big bob dies its over for me. like its done <- there won't be but i would be very very sad IF THERE WAS. to be fair we gotta kill off linda's parents too though

aww they're texting regularly <3 i like how you can ALREADY see how much bob and big bob's relationship has improved since the start of the show where bob Literally thought his dad hated him and that he was a disappointment. see what actual open communication can do for you!! im happy bob has at least one parent he can talk to kinda sorta? HE SHARES HELPFUL TIPS SO THAT BOB CAN SAVE HIS FAMILIES LIFE HES TRYING TO HELPP :(

"and today its just gonna be him. and them. and the giant cloud of darkness that follows him wherever he goes" funnily enough thats also what people say when talking about me :3

GRANDPA HUG!!!!!!!

"pop pop how much cotton candy is TOO MUCH cotton candy" "i dont know. three??"

LMAO FOR SOME REASON THAT REMINDS ME OF THIS FUCKIGN QUOTE. big bob when gene comes out to him as genderfluid like

wharf day with pop-pop!!! wharf day with pop-pop!!!!!

grandpa needs a little bench time. im ALWAYS saying this tbh

"don't get any tattoos that your parents can see" FUN GRANDPA he's definitely a better grandpa than he is a dad bcuz he was not doing this shit w/ bob when he was young i can tell you that much

OMG I LOVE TEDDYS RAINJACKET?? sorry i live in a rainforest its my god given right to comment on people's rainy day fashion. its like my one job

"i need to ask you guys A HUGE favor. can you try to take a good picture of me" teddy u are literally always hot this shouldn't be a problem. you're DRIPPING sex appeal. except this is for a handyman website so maybe less sexy?ANY PICTURE I TRY TO TAKE OF MYSELF I LOOK LIKE A MURDERER FJFMDNFJDKDNDJXHXH

louise shows up whenever she goes and figured out the best way to Cause Problems and i respect that about her. that takes real talent and dedication

one thing about the belcher kids they WILL end up locked inside a fortune telling clam in wonder wharf

he's sooo baby

everything is so okay bob dont even WORRY. big bob is asleep on a bench and the kids are stuck inside a giant clam they've done more dangerous stuff like twice this week already. at least they're inside??

"its fun when your dad shows up to. check on your grandpa"

ITS SO EASY FOR YOU BOB WITH YOUR CHARMING LOVEABLE FACE

do you not trust me with the kids :( noo big bob they literally (kinda) trusted GAYLE with the kids for AN ENTIRE WEEKEND u cant be worse than her at taking care of them. she was making them do some shit that Kids should not be doing. anyone remember the pretty paws

??? why was he just randomly like oohh we should win that gorilla for the kids. he loves them SO MUCH im gonna cry <3 he literally loves them and wants them to be happy. he SPOILS them. he's such a good grandpa and such a terrible dad lmfao

"are we being punished? for being helpful and delightful??"

if i was walking around an amusement park and i heard a robotic fortune telling clam SCREAMING for somebody to help it escape i would get the fuck outta there so fast sorry kids. you might be on your own w/ this one

i dont know why bob is acting like he doesn't lose the kids four times a week MINIMUM those mfs will run off anywhere if given half the chance. they live for the thrill

"we lose 'em and then we find them. that's our thing" ?? what did he mean by this

WHY ARE THEY LOOKING FOR "CUTE" TOOLS this subplot is so funny im kinda obsessed. mechanics for the girlies

HOW DO YOU MAKE A TAPE MEASURER LOOK SCARY........

teddy is scaring the hoes nooo. its okay teddy i would hire you maybe(??) well. yknow

IM A GENTLE PERSON :( teddy i will always be your biggest fan wtf he's literally so sweet. he wouldnt hurt a fly

silly <33

LMAO not louise just lying there and saying help us. help us. help us into the microphone she's so cute and SOOO over this whole situation

TEDDY IS HAPPIEST WHEN HE'S EATING BOB'S BURGERS THATS SO SWEET WTF

he's a good grandpa :(

SOMETIMES YOUR GRANDPA CAN BE A LITTLE DARK ABOUT LIFE AND NEGATIVE. YOU MEAN LIKE YOU LMAOO

if you keep saying stuff like that around your grandkids they're gonna believe you.... and then it might actually come true. so maybe don't say horrible stuff about the future to people who will have to live in that future </3

IM NOT ALWAYS WORRIED ABOUT THE FUTURE AND THATS **BECAUSE** OF MY GRANDKIDS what if i cry right now. he literally loves them so much he's such a good grandpa!!! wtf Anyone else thinking about amelia right now. the ending

AAWWW THIS EPISODE WAS SO CUTE IM OBSESSED WITH BIG BOB he was such a terrible father but he's the best grandpa and he loves these kids SO MUCH. genuinely. and im so happy that his relationship w/ bob is getting better and that they're on better terms. also the subplot with teddy was adorable i always love teddy and linda subplots. they're BESTIES. maaaybe my favorite episode from this season so far but honestly they've all been so great that there's like five different episodes competing for that spot. and we're still only eight episodes in!!! absolutely everything i wanted from an episode with big bob (even if lily wasn't mentioned. SAD!! oh well there are other episodes) and i loved learning more abt his relationship with his grandkids and that dynamic ^_^ <33