#I need. something. to change. I hate this. I feel selfish and cowardly and I hate feeling selfish and cowardly

[brown-little-robin]

my last week, a visual demonstration

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Don’t Call Me Again

Chaeyoung x Reader

CW: very light fluff, angst

Word count: 900

Synopsis: I regret from the very core of my heart for hurting you this bad, I am sorry.  

AN: Yes I know this is the wrong day for it😭but I feel it’s relevant right now and also because I need a bit more for the other one. I’ll post it tomorrow instead.

You watched as the car door opened and Chaeyoung got out, you couldn’t help but smile, her cute little jump to avoid the puddle, the way she smiled uncontrollably when she spotted you, everything about her was so cute, so perfect. She walked up to you still smiling sheepishly, looking at you for a moment before quickly grabbing you and embracing you in a tight hug. At this point, admittedly you were beginning to feel a bit emotional, but you managed to fight those emotions off, for now at least.

Still holding on to you, she pulled her head back and looked at you, still smiling happily, “It’s been so long”, she said before slumping her head against your shoulder, her tone changing to a more serious one. That stung a little, you knew it had been, usually her tours make you miss her a lot, but you never really considered that she might miss you just as much if not more. After all, she does become quite loving and needy when she’s stressed. Nevertheless, you both finally pull back and Chaeyoung slips her hands into yours and that’s something you can never get tired of.

The two of you walked a little, going towards the spot where you both kissed for the first time. As you both approached it, you began to brace yourself to tell Chaeyoung but before you could, she suddenly let go of your hand and turned. She was walking backwards, unable to stop smiling at you, her cheeks rosy. You were about to tell it her when she suddenly spoke, “Oh! Pretty!”, she exclaimed, plucking a flower off the ground, smelling it, and smiling at you. She then takes a step closer and tiptoes, tucking it behind your ear and kissing your cheek and smiling lovingly at you, her hand lingering on the spot she kissed. She is making this so much more difficult than it needs to be. Is this a mistake? How were you going to tell her that you wanted to break up…

“Chaeyoung…”, you said quietly, beginning to feel tears build up in your eyes, “This is-this isn’t going to work.”

“Huh”, She said, confused by your suddenness, “What are you talking about?”

Why, why is she making you repeat, you already felt like a monster for doing this to her. She didn’t deserve it, she doesn’t deserve this. But you just can’t keep going on like this, having her go off to the other side of the world for months. You know it’s selfish, you know it’s stupid, but you just can’t keep doing this. You want her all the time and it’s clear you won’t get that from her anytime soon. So its best that you end it now before you lose your nerve, before she makes you change your mind, before she makes promises you she wont be able to keep.

“I think we should break up.”, you said in a shaky voice as you felt tears beginning to fall. You didn’t deserve to shed tears, not after what you are doing. “We-we don’t spend enough time together, we can’t go out half the time or places, it’s just too much. I can’t handle it all. I’m done”, you say the last part more harshly than you intended. “I-I am sorry, but I can’t, I love you, I really do but I think it’s better for us”, you blurt out, regretting each word but you had come too far to back out now.

Chaeyoung looked back at you confused, panicked, hurt, betrayed, she tried to reach out for your hand, but you step back, hating yourself more than ever. She didn’t say anything, but you could hear her breath heavily in panic, she looked like she wanted to say so many things to you right now but couldn’t find the words. You see tears building up in her eyes and it’s too much for you. You turn around and speed off, not looking back once because you are a monster, because you are cowardly, because you are weak. You know if you look back, you’ll cry, you’ll beg her to forgive you, to take you back. And Chaeyoung will. She will take you back without any hesitation, she will cry her heart out, she will ask you what she did wrong, what she can do to change, what she can do to stop you from feeling this way. And the truth is nothing. Because she doesn’t need to change. She was, is perfect. It’s you who’s full of fault, full of insecurities, full of weakness. As you sit in your car, you begin to sob, looking at your phone, at your and Chaeyoung’s messages, knowing you need to block her before she texts you. But it’s too late, before you can gather her strength to do that, you receive a text from her, ‘Please don’t go.’. And you close your eyes in pain, what have you done, you hate yourself, you look at the block button and feel your heart pound knowing its now or never, you take a deep breath and make your choice…  

[goodolddumbbanana]

Tw: hate Puppet.

Okay, I will say something that makes Puppet and Eclipse show fans hate me.

The Puppet and Eclipse show has become really bland since Stichwarth arc over.

And I hate how they handle the Eclipse redemption arc now.

Let's talk about Puppet first. I used to love her, but now, all the feelings I have for her are annoying. She just has to touch everything, and force her way on anyone. She is like a Mary Sue, with her backstory and the way people have to do anything she wants, which it really ironically because she is some kinda God.

She said Eclipse is not the same person as he was before (Eclipse v1), but still when Solar died, she yelled and demanded him to find some way to fix or revive Solar.

She crashed in Eclipse's house, and pressed him into pressure to make him help her fix the thing with KC and Evil Puppet.

She stops him from doing what he wanted (getting the heck out of this dimension's craps) and scams him to sign some contracts, making him forcefully stay with her just because Monty and Foxy didn't want to do the show anymore.

I would like Eclipse's redemption arc more, but with the way Puppet literally forced her into making Eclipse redemption, really leave a bad taste in my mouth.

Because it is not by choice, because you have to be forced to redemption. Because you get everything that makes you, hold you dear, what builds you who you are shred off from you all due because people don't like what you are, so they turn and make you into something more easily to work with. You are not learning anything, you are just changing and you just keep this feeling of hopelessness through all this process, because you have never had a choice on the first place. They never like you. They only like the idea of you and what potentially who you can become...

And with Sun... Yeah, I know what you will say. Just another Sun fan who hates the world. So annoying~~~

But truthfully, Sun has been a butt joke of the show since day 1. He has been belittled, talked down, insulted, tortured or worse, ignored. He likes a trashcan that people keep throwing at because it is funny (which it is not)

PUPPET is All Seeing, but she keeps asking Sun to make a choice about... 'Oh well, let's kill your brother Sun, or you can choose not to, but it will make you a horrible person because that man will destroy everything on his road and everyone will get hurt, all because you don't want to do anything about him.'

She created an illusion of choice for Sun and has Foxy and Monty like lab dogs to do her bidding. What is the point of making Sun choose, when it ended up just for Puppet to do whatever hell she liked?

(Sun pointed that out too on the show, and ironically, people hated Sun for that because it makes him a coward.)

And then, she literally abandoned her son (Freddy) without saying goodbye to raise another son (FC) the one who seemingly she cares more than the one she abandoned.

And even in the newest dimension, I am not talking about Foxy, he just feels like blending with the background now.

Now they have to poke on the biggest hive, Sun and Moon.

I understand what Eclipse comes from, because well, he is always a piece of crap with Sun, but Puppet and Francis and literally anyone else? With the way Sunrise does not want to help and cooperate with Moondrop?

Even with the people outside the universe?

They all think Sun is a problem, or this Sunrise is a problem. Because guess what?

Sure Eclipse can be a misunderstood piss boy. Sure whatever horrible original Moon did can be taken as it is because of his Killcode, and Moon is just a baby who didn't do anything wrong.

But Sun... Sun... Sun needs to do everything right, or else he will be a selfish, cowardly, annoying, idiot...

Because you are just freshly born and you have this thing which is always making you in pain and you have no control or way to stop it. Because all the staff are assholes and these are freshly new friends (Puppet, Eclipse and Francis) keeps asking about the thing that causes you pain since day one and forces you and criticizes you about why you don't cooperate with it, why you don't be nicer with it like it is really easy for them to say. Because you can't control anything even your body, and now they want you to do it, for something that supposedly making your life a torture everyday, leading you even afraid of darkness or wanting to walk outside?

Fat chance. They don't understand, and you don't need them too. Because guess what, it is you the one who deals with consequences of that thing, not them.

I admit this Sunrise is selfish, because like I said before, it is not everyone this easily to forgive like our Sun.

But the way people belittled him (Puppet, Francis,...), forced him to change into Moon model, and express the disappointment when Sunrise doesn't like Moondrop?

Really reminds me of Eclipse v1.

They can sympathise with Eclipse, Eclipse can even sympathise and help Moondrop, but come to Sunrise? No...

Sunrise to Eclipse is just a dense parasite, Sunrise to Puppet and Francis are just a selfish brat.

And it is so sad, because I know where Eclipse comes from, he is just bitter and shit even though he is the one who is wrong but Puppet and Francis? I expect better from them.

And outside the show, this really makes people think it is what Sun, our Sun is like from day 1.

Which it didn't. Sun never knows about Moon's appearance, when Moon comes out, Moon is so angry that he literally tortured and made Sun's life into a living hell for a year. And Sun always wants a brother, Sun asks for a share and guess what Moon says: haha no.

It took Moon a long time to learn that Sun does not deserve to be tortured into his thick head. And When eclipse makes friends with Earth, I'm kinda uncomfortable but agree because this is not Eclipse v1.

But then he hopped into the new dimension and immediately inflected his trauma on Sun like Eclipse v1 used too? And with Puppet helps like she is Lunar v2? Haha, I hate that show now so much.

And this time, Eclipse is not even that hot. And Sun, has no one to rely on, which leaves the situation with a really bad taste.

Hope they do not make this Sunrise and antagonist, or puss over, else I would be very mad.

[another-blog-about-miis]

New Home (WDY AU Fic)

Will is slouching on the couch looking up at the ceiling, thinking about many things. It's been a month since he first moved in,a month since his mother decided to kick him out because of her selfish reasons. He's been having a hard time adjusting to his new life in this new house, Will was lucky enough that his father, Mike, and Mike's husband, Jonathan let him move in. Will doesn't really know his dad well, all he know from his mother is that he's a cowardly man but he's now knows that not the case. Will is finding it hard to relate to his step-brother Kyle, they don't really like each other because of their different viewpoints and other reasons.

Kyle is trans and bisexual and Will was taught that being part of the LGBTQ+ community wasn't okay. He is slowly unlearning these things because he learned his father was gay and he doesn't wanna disappoint him. All he knows about his new family so far is that Kyle hates him and Mike loves him but is disappointment by Will's actions but there's just one person he doesn't know yet, Jonathan. He sure seems nice to everyone in the household, even Will which surprises him, he doesn't know why someone would bother being nice to him or care about him. He notices Jonathan is quite a goofy person, having weird energy bursts at random moments, he's very loving towards Mike and Kyle, John even takes time out of his day to see if Will's alright. It just doesn't make sense to him.

Will groans and covers his eyes with his hands. he crouches down and sighs.

"You okay bud?"

Will uncovers his eyes and looks to the right to see Jonathan. He just stares, uncertain what to say.

Jonathan sits next to Will on the couch and softly smiles.

"You look like you have a lot on your mind and I just wanted to check up on you."

Will quietly groans.

"You'd be right about that..."

"You wanna talk about it?"

Will looks at him confused then scoffs.

"Isn't that something you rather do with your own kid?"

Jonathan smiles lows slowly but he tries to keep it up.

"Well you are one of my kids, so why wouldn't I?"

"You're not my dad... Mike is my dad! Stop pretending that you care about me, I know you don't, no one does!"

Jonathan frowns hearing the last part and starts to feel concerned.

"Hey! Hey... Now why do you think that? You know that's not true! Mike and I care about you very very much!"

Will starts to get pissed off.

"Stop with the act John! You don't know me, You only met me a year ago!"

"I've know you since you were a little baby Will! Me and you dad were friends before we started dating, since before he even met you're mother!"

Jonathan crosses his arms.

"I do care about you! I know how much you mean to Mike, you're his son which makes you my step-son. And it's fine if you don't see me as your other dad. You can just see me as Jonathan!"

John takes a deep breath. Will thinks for a moment and slouches on the couch again.

"I'm sorry. Mike told me to control my anger, but I don't know how... No one ever taught me."

Jonathan looks at Will.

"It's fine, It can be hard to deal with those emotions, especially if your a teenager! I'd know, I was a teen once..."

Jonathan laughs slightly at his comment. Will's frown lowers.

"I think some of my anger comes from dad not being there when I was younger..."

Silence fills the room, things feel awkward. Will starts regretting saying that.

Then Will feels a hand on his shoulder.

"That's understandable. Mike tried really hard to get you back from your mother but he wasn't able to do anything after she moved away with you to Canada. I mean she won full custody of you some how!that was a really hard time for you father..."

"He could've called..."

"She changed her number, Will."

"Oh..."

Silence fills the room again. Will turns his face as he tears up, trying to hide that he's crying but his sniffles gave it away.

"You don't need to hide how you feel to me, William You can always talk to me or you dad! we'll always be there for you, we promise."

Tears start to steam down Will's face. He can't hide it anymore.

"Just like Kyle, you're our son and we love you very much and that's never going to change."

Will covers his eyes and starts to sob, Jonathan leans close to him and rubs his back.

"It's okay, let it out..."

He continues rubbing Will's back as he tries to comfort him.

Mike walks into the living room.

"Hey what's going on I heard crying?"

"We were talking about the contact thing..."

"Oh..."

Mike walks over and sits next to Will, putting his arm around Will's shoulder. Jonathan takes his hands off of Will's back.

"Hey William, you okay buddy?"

Will takes a sec to catch his breath.

"No! W-Why would I be okay!? I'm ob-bviously crying!"

"I can see that... Sorry for asking. But hey, it's okay now! We could do something together if you want? Would that make you feel better?"

Jonathan gets up from the couch.

"Yeah why don't you to spend some time together, do some father son bonding! I'll just-"

Will grabs on to Jonathan's hand.

"No.. please stay... I want both of you here...."

Hearing those words surprises Jonathan and Mike.

"Really? Aww! That's really sweet of you Will!"

Will wipes his tears with his jacket sleeve.

"Yeah, yeah whatever...."

Jonathan sits back now and is smiling wide. Will lays his head on Mike, he feels embarrassed. He's not use to this.

"So what do you wanna do kiddo?"

"I-I don't know what to do... I just don't wanna be without my...."

Will takes a deep breath.

"Dads....?"

Mike and Jonathan can see the discomfort on his face after saying that.

"You don't have to call me dad if you don't want too, I'm fine with you calling me by Jonathan or even John!"

"But not Johnny! That's my nickname for him~"

Jonathan laughs.

"Okay......? You guys are weird....."

Both Mike and Jonathan laugh from this. Will smiles for the first time in a long while.

He's starting to like his new home.

(This was just experimental, if you like it please do reblog it :D)

[howaboutcastiel-personal]

I’m writing the note as like an exercise. I don’t really know. I just know I can’t sleep and my body is still in pain, even though it’s on a dip right now so it isn’t unbearable.

But yeah this is the note. I don’t know who it would even be for because at this point do I want them to understand? Would writing it help or would they laugh at me posthumously too? Like they would read it and go ha. Stupid girl. Silly girl. You’re so wrong and stupid and selfish. Haha. Jokes on you.

I honestly don’t remember how much pain I used to be in. But I know the pain right now is distracting at best. When it’s at its worst I just want to lay down and moan. I can’t read or write or even watch tv. Not to mention I’m not fucking interested in watching it anyway, and streaming services have made it so it’s going to take years just to get to see anything I’m excited about again.

The world really just feels like a trap. Right? It’s not supposed to be this hard to be alive right? Like who the fuck made it a challenge to live? I should be able to just garden and then sleep all day. It’s so stupid how we have to work a lot to just basically meet our survival needs.

And I’m barely surviving either way. I swear to God no one cares. I get that no one is supposed to care, but why do I have to hurt every day? My stomach hurts too much for me to be happy sometimes. And I’m on so many fucking drugs that I think what’s the point? I’m still so miserable and I’m on all of the drugs for what? What if I just stopped taking every single one of them? What if I was just rawdogging life one hundred percent? Would I feel better?

It’s so frustrating because I’m never going to love myself. When I was in school I was doing so well. I had a job. I had a full schedule. I had an internship and I was living independently for the most part. And I could clean and cook and feed myself and it was okay. And I was writing. I was meeting my goals but then I couldn’t drive and I was socially scared so of course nothing else matters and I am a complete and utter failure that doesn’t deserve to live.

And now of course I still feel like that but I don’t have a job anymore. And I’m doing all of the households laundry and about ninety percent of the dishes. I’m cooking dinner ninety percent of the time and I’m meal planning and I don’t know what else but the house is a fucking mess and if I wasn’t here it would be even more unlivable.

The best thing would be for me to leave and forget this place and just do things for myself. And I want to do that but I’m scared and they’re familiar even though they hate me. They don’t say no to everything and they can’t. Because they think that they’re good people. And they do everything for Ethan. And they helped chuck and reshon. And Nevaeh. And mom buys all those gifts for people’s wedding and baby showers. So like yeah i should ask them for things and not feel bad but how am I supposed to??

It’s not my fault that she feels obligated to do all these things. I should make her feel obligated to do more things for me. I should yell back when she yells at me. Why does she get to believe she’s a good mother? Why does she get to believe that she’s a good person? A smart person???? She’s a fucking narcissistic moron. She’s bipolar or borderline or something and refuses to get help and it’s everyone else’s problem and I’m fucking dependent on her like the idiot I am.

I would like to live… not alone. But with people I love and who love me. And who don’t yell at me and who actually like me and who understand that if I go too long being home alone I’ll get scared and want to die. Maybe like a polycule or just a commune or not even a commune but just roommates that I get along with. I’m just so stupid and cowardly and I don’t believe that I can do it. And change is going to happen regardless and I’m terrified.

It’s not that I’m even suicidal right now. I’m just in so much goddamn pain and I have no idea how to move forward or where I would even want to move forward. I’m not interested in things anymore!! I don’t want to cook as much as I used to and I don’t want to play house as much as I used to and I’m so scared of resenting everything but I already do resent everything. And I know I’m going to miss it when it’s gone too.

I don’t know what I want and I don’t remember what it’s like to have ambition that isn’t obsessive and compulsive. I miss having joy and thinking about my interests. I can’t even daydream about Cobb or Din because I can’t think at all, and I can’t stand watching them on television anymore. And there’s nothing new coming out to help. There’s radio silence because Hollywood is so fucking slow now and everything sucks and Joel’s gonna fucking die anyway. And who fucking even cares about Din anymore because Favreau sure doesn’t.

And I guess Raylan is gone which is fine. And Joel Hammond is gone which is fine. And the alien show is probably not going to be for me and fuck it, Timothy Olyphant isn’t even good at acting. We all know that. Cobb is probably gone, or they’ll fuck up his story on the one-in-a-million chance he ever comes back. Deadwood is fine, but I can only love it so hard. And I don’t know what else Tim would be doing. Oscar is going places I guess. There’s the fantastic four which I also don’t care so much about, but I’ll see it for Pedro. Moon Knight is still on that season two rumor but I don’t remember what it’s like to miss those boys.

And it’s not rewarding to self insert in the fanfiction anymore. I keep doing bad things to Din. Putting him in circumstances I’ve never even been in. I don’t know what else to do. It doesn’t matter if he was abused. It doesn’t matter that Cobb’s parents hate him. And the happy ending I have to write just makes me feel nothing, but I can’t write a bad ending either because I’ll be devastated.

I’m just nauseated. I’m sick to my stomach and I have this headache that keeps coming back and I can’t stop grinding my teeth. And after being so tired for my entire life I finally have energy thanks to the steroids and I feel like it’s a total waste. They aren’t making me feel better they’re just keeping me awake. I would get a job somewhere. I could work for Kamala’s campaign. But I’m just. In pain. And I’m scared. And stupiddd.

If I was going to say the things I wanted to dad. It would be that he’s a fucking loser. The things I hate about myself are the same things I hate about him but he knows how to drive. He can’t hold a job and he can’t learn new things without being too angry that he isn’t good at it yet. And he hates authority and he’s pathetic. He’s racist and sexist and homophobic and transphobic and he’s entitled. He’s entitled to lunch every day. He’s entitled to never having to do the fucking housework. I do more than he does to contribute to the household but mom still waits on him hand and foot.

And she’s barely any better. She’s more productive and she does things for other people, but her soul is so gross. She’s selfish and she thinks that she’s amazing. She thinks she’s the best person ever and oh so smart and so caring and everything she does is right and her way is the right way and she will laugh at you. I want to kill things when she laughs. It’s like she makes my ears bleed just from her fucking stupid witchy laugh. Why does she get to be happy??? She’s not funny. And not smart. Her interests are stupid and her habits are stupid. She has no real compassion and I swear every Good thing she does is manipulative and she does it for the sake of appearance.

And she wastes money. On stupid shit. And then makes me feel guilty for needing food and shelter and healthcare. She hates me and im never going to not be mad at her for hating me and I swear to god I hate her right back. Even though she helps sometimes. It’s like she helps so I can owe her. It’s like she gave birth to me so that I could owe her and I will owe her until we’re both deep in the ground. If I died it would be about her too. It would be something I did to her. And another chance for her to be a fucking. Victim. Of course.

I don’t know what justice would even be. It’s not like I want to inflict pain on them both. I just think they shouldn’t be allowed to be happy like this. It would be so simple for them to just turn on their fucking brains and learn how to be compassionate. Mom could learn how to actually love her children unconditionally. She could learn how to plan for the future and spend money on things that matter and be pragmatic about how she fixes problems. And want me to get better because she loves me and not just because I’m her burden and the disappointment she never fucking wanted.

Dad could change everything about himself. Stop being so selfish, and entitled. Get a real job, since they think I’m horrible for not having one and yet he’s a fucking failure. Go to the doctor for the things that are wrong. Stop being racist and hating queer people and learn how to respect women. And do chores without being asked and without bailing out and asking for help even though it’s simple fucking chores you never do anything for anyone you fucking evil moron. He could pack his fucking lunch. I swear to god just pack your fucking lunch and stop drinking coke.

They failed with the other one but I’m the failure ???? He’s racist !!! He’s crazy. He’s insane and he’s violent and sexist and one day he’s going to kill someone. Maybe Julia. And he’s an asshole and he stood me up on my birthday and why the fuck does he get to appear to be the successful one I fucking hate him. I want to hurt him. I do want him to suffer because there’s no hope for him and he’s dangerous. And just for the record fuck Julia too. But she doesn’t deserve to die and I hope he doesn’t kill her.

I want to stop hurting. Fucking listen to me !!! Somethings in there. Something is wrong and it’s hurting all the fucking time and STOP IT PLEASE. I can’t even sleep in peace. I’m fat and I can’t even be skinny like the good sick people are and fucking I hate it. I hate living like this why can’t I stop the fucking pain? I’m gonna get addicted to drugs because I can’t stop the fucking pain. I just want it to stop I want to fucking fix it why can’t it JUST GO AWAY?

The doctors don’t care and it’s all the way in Charlotte and they don’t answer my calls or messages and the next appointment is three months out and oh it’s probably anxiety or oh we’re not worried or oh the test looks abnormal but we’re not gonna do anything about it like can you at least fucking shoot me??? You’d at least put a fucking dog out of its misery can you please just listen to me??

I have to do the dishes. I have to do the laundry. It hurts. I have to eat. I have to lose weight. And fuck you it hurts. What am I supposed to do? You can’t work for the government and do drugs. You can’t work anywhere and do drugs. You can’t just not work. Nobody is going to love me. I don’t even remember what my personality is.

I don’t remember what the fuck I am? They don’t call me the name I like. I can’t tell them. And it’s stupid because I don’t even know anymore. The body is not even mine. I just live in it. And it kills me and I don’t want to even look at it. I keep dreaming about people who don’t love me anymore and I don’t know how to go back outside but I’ll die in here and that is worse and what the fuck am I supposed to even do

[ladyloveroll]

♣️

lately the hate has been coming back. probably over the past few months. maybe its the holidays. maybe its my growing impatience.

but i had to do something to distract me back in october. and to see that it only got me three months is hard to take. i start my grad program next month and i am HANGING onto the hope that itll distract me long enough to stop feeling so much rage.

i hate it here. i truly fucking do. every quarter, this goddamn state government does something that pisses me off so bad that it validates my decision to move. except that— i also won’t go through the struggle again. im not going to move to chicago and feel the squeeze of not being able to afford to live there. coming from such a “low cost of living” state is hard for me to imagine i could have enough to even survive in chicago (and i have a good job!).

i push it all down. i increase the dosage of my antidepressants. i bury my mind in fandom. i stop looking at TWT because i cannot stand to see dead Palestinian children or their people be lined up in front of a firing squad. i can’t deal with it. i feel so much guilt for being able to block it. i feel like “well I SHOULD witness these atrocities and DO SOMETHING about them” and then fucking lankford puts out a letter with deep deep sympathies for israel. and i feel so hopeless and angry and one time i got the courage to call his desk even though his aid was probably just going to roll their eyes and then that same day i ran over something in the road because THERE IS ALWAYS SOMETHING ON I-40! and then lost the drive. (i did email all the offices, but i know emails are weaker than phone calls)

i try to look to luffy. it sounds so idiotic but i do. the whole point of OP is doing something that seems impossible and despite the haters and the obstacles /you still try/. you try so very fucking hard with all your heart.

but i am so tired of trying and i haven’t even called the fucking representatives. it feels cowardly. i know it is hopeless.

i apply it to getting myself through grad school and moving the fuck away from this place instead. selfish, i know, but the other route just is. not. working. so perhaps i need to change gears.

i hope i dont fall back into drinking heavily again. instead I just take edibles ALL DAY LONG to numb. To numb. how is that any better other than the obvious health consequences. shouldn’t I be in misery too alongside the people who cannot just “turn twitter off”? survivors guilt is STRONG. hopefully my distractions are stronger.

[alakirist]

I know this is not how this ask is supposed to work but I couldn’t help but go ahead and answer all of those, it was really helpful with character development. Those ones are for my Sith Warrior, Casd’elaos’Oattashu/Dealoso(Given Chiss name), and later Cassian Narok(chosen name).

70% dark side, 30% light side, overall ruthless but pragmatic

Empire

He wasn’t born into it, but he fits quite well with the Sith order as it allowed him to study the force freely and without the prejudices of the Chiss Ascendancy

Copero

Dromund Kaas before KOTFE, Odessen after KOTFE, Alderaan after leaving the Alliance

Chiss

Yes, but without fanaticism

Doesn’t hate them but learned to see them as their enemies, sees Jedi as weak and dogmatic 

He is interested by the force and everything it can bring to the table, he’s proud to call himself a Sith

Sith Juggernaut(Warrior backstory), just something that fits his combat style

Usually uses red

A few

Don’t have many screenshots, sorry haha

Vette, she was his first close friend since Cassian left Copero and this bond never weakened 

He has a good relationship with all of his class companions as he got to spend a lot of time and bond with all of them. However, if he had to choose one, it would be Malavai Quinn because of the betrayal 

Reading texts related to the force and dark side specifically, sparring, traveling to different planets 

His parents were from a wealthy Chiss family and he has a broken relationship with them. His father despised the fact that Cassian was force sensitive and didn’t want to hide his talent, while his mother sided with the father as she believed that hiding the force would be the only way for Cassian to integrate into Chiss society.

Vette, who also had a crush on him but he turned her down, nevertheless, they still remained friends.

Jacques Elias, my Jedi knight character

During vanilla, Darth Lachris, a romance with a tragic end, post Echoes of Oblivion Vaylin(only in my fics so far, but one day it will happen in canon when they bring back Syl mark my words)

Didn’t think much about children during his fighting days, but ended up adopting two after retirement 

Heterosexual 

He idolized the Sith for a long time, but eventually began to see flaws in their ideology

He could be a knight of Zakuul or horizon guard if not the carbonate freezing 

He never really got over his parents’ mistreatment of him and all of his actions were in part driven subconsciously by his desire to surpass his father who believed him to be a failure and prove him wrong at every turn.

Wrath and sometimes selfishness 

Not being there with Lachris when she had her last stand and using Vaylin’s conditioning 

Does grieving over Vaylin’s death more than that of any alliance member at the end of battle of Odessen count xD?

He likes a lot of the Chiss cuisine, though he sometimes feels the need to ‘dunk’ on it in public along with other aspects of Chiss culture.

Knows how to dance, but doesn’t do it in front of large groups of people 

He is quite confident and sometimes arrogant, but he has skills in both force and lightsaber dueling to back that up. Cassian is very brave and never shies away from the fight, disapproving of cowardly tactics used by the Sith. A good leader when he tries, but usually doesn’t care enough. Doesn’t have many friends, but he’s very protective of them and will sooner die before allowing any of them get killed.

Exceptional lightsaber dueling 

Lord Scourge, the two Wraths will have a lot to talk about

He’s more susceptible to emotions and sentiment than he’ll ever admit

Absolutely despises Valkorion for what he did on Ziost and his manipulations, resists him at every turn 

No, Cassian refused in the most spiteful way possible 

Told them to flee, wanted them to be safe

Ram Marr’s ship, no hesitation 

Let it blow, wasn’t in the mood to help people who imprisoned him, besides, it was far too risky

In disbelief and very anxious about how much has changed, specifically in regards to his friends, but holds himself together

Not applicable, but it’s fun to imagine how Lachris would’ve reacted had she lived this long. She’d definitely be by Lana’s side when she rescued Cassian.

Cassian believes he’s in control of his own destiny

Not thrilled at all, he couldn’t care less about ruling the galaxy, revenge against Valkorion is all he cares about 

Balance and sacrifice 

See 41

Not in KOTFE, no. Kaliyo and Jorgan weren’t perfect but both of them are skilled and loyal, Cassian would consider it wasteful to kill them. Koth betrayed him due to browning the spire, and he was dead set on killing him at first but Jacques convinced him to spare Koth’s life when it came to it. Cassian settled for cutting some of Koth’s fingers and permanently exiling him from Odessen.

No…

“Why did we trust that scheming thing in the first place, again?”

Shot them down, he doesn’t take kindly to betrayal, especially when it concerned such a dangerous enemy.

(A lot of swearing)

Not in game but in headcanon various other companions and characters did the Star Fortresses, everyone had a planet they were responsible for.

Choose to kill Arcann but not because of any loyalty to Valkorion. Cassian wanted to remove the threat while the opportunity presented itself and he trusted neither Senya’s words nor shady Voss magic.

He was suspicious, but they ended up becoming allies

“And that’s exactly what you deserve”

Cassian knew Valk was a horrible father and was quick to call him out on this conditioning, but during chapter 6, Cassian was too focused on defeating Vaylin to consider or doubt the use of conditioning. After visiting Nathema and seeing what Vaylin has gone through, however, this became one of the biggest regrets of his life

Something more elegant would be preferable 

No, he never even considered allowing the killer machine to escape 

After he defeated Arcann, Cassian was willing to imprison him, but Arcann chose death and got executed. Cassian doesn’t regret this choice, but he accepted since that there were more similarities between him and Arcann than he liked to admit

This was one of the most horrible experiences of his life, the void got him on a very deep level. Seeing what Vaylin has gone through and some of those experiments reminding him of what his own father did to snuff out the force from him made him sympathize and desperately want to help Vaylin. His behavior during the battle of Odessen made Lana and Theron raise eyebrows, to say the least.

Yes, only due to how Nathema affected him, he didn’t think logically or pragmatically at this moment and simp,y wished to grant him peace.

Vette, an incredibly easy choice. He finds Torian respectable but compared to Vette, he’s nobody to Cassian.

Well, the future love interest was present…I have an alternative version of the final fight with Vaylin in my headcanon. First of all, Theron wasn’t present cause let’s be real, he would get annihilated. Instead it’s Cassian, Jacques the JK and Lana. Cassian is very reluctant to strike Vaylin down and wants to reach out to her, and it’s Jac that deals the final blow(her spirit still gets absorbed by Valkorion and therefore Cassian).

Yes, and the fact that the game implies the Outlander didn’t makes them seem really stupid. Of course Valkorion would try something like this. I guess Cassian hoped the Holocron would pacify him.

Emperor, because he was done with people’s shit, though he soon realized he didn’t care to actually rule.

Swtor OC ask meme - pick a number, any number!

What is their alignment?

Empire or Republic?

Do they fit in with their faction or were they sort of born into it?

What is their homeworld?

What planet do they now call home? Either where their stronghold is or where you headcanon they live at.

What race are they?

Are they loyal to their faction? 

How do they feel about the opposite faction?

How do they feel about the Force and the orders that use it?

What is their specialization class? Was there a reason they picked that discipline?

Do they have a favorite color crystal they like to use? What color?

Be honest, how many outfit tabs do they have?

Let’s see those outfits!

Who is/are their favorite companion(s)?

Who is/are their least favorite companion(s)?

What do they do in their spare time?

Do they have family? Silbings, parents, children?

Who is their BFF? 

Who is their rival? 

Do they have a love interest? Who?

Would they continue their legacy by having children? Adopt? Get an apprentice?

What is their sexual orientation?

Do they like their role in their current situation? ei: if they are a Sith do they like being in the Sith order?

If they could be part of another group, what would it be? You can choice from Old Republic, Expanded Universe, or Cinematic Universe.

Do they have any deep dark secrets?

Do they have any vices?

Do they have any regrets?

Have they done anything embarrassing?

What’s their favorite food? 

Do they like to boogie? Do they dance to that good old cantina band?

Describe their personality. Are they snarky, noble, insane, etc?

Do they have any special skills?

In KotFE which companion(s) from another class are you most looking forward to them recruiting?

Any major flaws?

In KotFE what is their relationship with Valkorion?

[theoncomingdoo-dah]

The River(Song) Rambling thing, i.e

"Two-Toned Carnations"

copied from a message I sent to my partner so it's disjointed. This is rambling and brainstorming, kinda like the 11/Rose thing I posted (I think I posted it? Either way. I'll post it if I didn't. Warning: cheesy as ALL HELL.)

So remember when I mentioned fixing River and the Doctors (non-romantic) relationship would be easy? Just change the context of the whole thing and stop trying to make someone who is obsessed with someone else to such an unhealthy degree that her life is NOTHING without him a good thing.

Well that's where this comes in.

In this AU, because it's very much canon divergent. Rose finds her way to 11.

(Who up until seeing her again had tried to block her out completely. And this is also 'Timelocked/I outlived my husband' Rose)

And also the same events took place when Rose wasn't there, with Amy and Clara and his "marriage" to River.

But, context is important here. These things that he did are seen as BAD things. Manipulative things.

Things that his 12th self regrets eminently.

And while he and Rose are out and about on a planet somewhere, he runs into his past.

Rose doesn't know who River is. River doesn't know who Rose is.

And 12 does introduce River as "his wife". Acknowledging his mistake from the past.

River makes a comment about The Doctor still favoring the young associates which make Rose a bit miffed, about to comment that she's *definitely* not young anymore.

They are about to spat at each other, understandably considering the mixed signals they're both getting.

12 tells them both to shut up, loudly.

But still apologizes, and with a heavy sigh, the Doctor states that they need to have a long talk.

Rose sits beside him while he and River talk.

At first, she isn't taking any of this seriously. Just keeping her snarky and sassy persona on lock and it's obviously annoying the Doctor since *nothing* he's saying seems to be hitting.

He brings up all the selfish things he did in his past. To Amy and her. She barely responds.

"Well love requires sacrifices."

He's at his breaking point. "It wasn't LOVE, River. It never was."

She blinks, and for a moment she seems to register what he's saying, but yet again, shrugs it off.

"You won't admit it, but I know you."

"Why didn't you know who Rose was?"

River blinks again, pauses. Her mouth hangs open a bit.

"You know everything about me. Why didn't you know who Rose was?"

"Well, I--"

"Because I never mentioned her."

He leans forward, giving her a stern expression. "If I trusted you and loved you, I would have told you everything. I didn't talk about her."

He places a hand over Rose's, just in case the words he's about to speak sting a bit.

"Back then, I was doing everything I could possibly do, to forget her. And I hurt so many people to do it. I was selfish. I was cruel. I was cowardly. And I wanted to be adored. And you gave me that adoration...at the expense of everything."

He places a hand on her cheek. She obviously leans into it. "Your life has only been about me. And I am so sorry."

"I took your weakness and manipulated you for it."

River shifts in her seat, her bravado over the whole situation starting to crack.

As painful as it is for the Doctor to see, it's also a relief that he *finally* got to her.

"You need to live your life in spite of me, not because of me. Please. I do care about you. And I want the best for you."

Shes shaking. Her metaphorical world is tumbling around her.

"There's a life outside of me. And you can hate me for that. I understand. Just...say something, please."

"I...I'm scared."

He's almost shocked to hear her say that.

"Why?"

"What else is there...if it's not you?"

"You'll have to find it on your own, I'm sorry."

There's a moment of quiet between them before Rose pipes up.

"You can smack him if it makes you feel better."

They laugh and River's normal tone returns when she replies "It wouldn't be the first time!"

(There's more, and there's more talking. Basically, I wanted this to be a story where the Doctor and River actually talk about things. What they are, what they aren't. But I didn't want it to come off bitter, like I was trying to hurt River. He's doing this because he cares, and he can't just keep running away from the mistakes of the past and the people he hurt when he was grieving.)

(River's story is tragic. Not because she's doomed to die or can't be with the one she loves but because what she feels isn't love. It's obsession, an obsession that was essentially IMPLANTED in her and 11 ABUSED that.)

(at least in my interpretation. I kinda make him a spiteful asshole in this AU. Because he is one. Don't worry, he gets better.)

(She believes that she's in love because what else could it be? So a more mature, level-headed Doctor tries to help her through these feelings.)

(I just weep for all the missed potential Moffats characters in DW had...)

(Also, the title. Gifting someone a two toned carnation is seen as a parting message. Or "I can't be with you." Felt like that was fitting.)

(This will be a complete one shot eventually, with lots of emotions and TwelveRose! But the main reason, is just to write River out of the narrative that she's in. Chasing after someone who doesn't love her, but she's convinced herself that he does. But gently and kindly. She deserves that.)

[heartcal]

rejected ; c.h. (part vii - preview)

i need a calendar because i cannot keep track of the days that pass. oopsie. ANYWAY here's the preview for part seven! :^) i think there are a couple parts left before this series ends :^) btw this part is subject to be changed lol the war in ukraine is still happening, so here's the reddit post with links to trusted charities to help those in need! if there are any mistakes or questions, feel free to ask!

summary:  he was just a silly little crush that you had in high school, and you were sure that after graduating, you would be over it. so why is your heart beating fast as he sits next to you in your first class on your first day of college? pairing: calum hood x reader (gender-neutral) genre: fluff, angst, classmates to friends to loves au, college au warning(s): mentions of past toxic relationship (full part will have more warnings regarding this topic) preview word count: 449 words to be posted: ~october 8, 2022 series masterlist! | main masterlist!

Calum finds it hard to explain himself. Looking in from the outside, Calum could see himself as a cowardly selfish person; acting without a second thought, inconsiderate of how it would make others feel, all just to make themselves feel better. He took your concern and kindness, stomped on it repeatedly, and threw it in the trash. And to make it worse, you still had the guts to tell him you liked him. That was something he was not brave to do.

“You can’t be short with me, Cal,” Ashton scolds, observing Calum’s body language.

Calum moves his hands down his face, revealing his eyes—which were glossy and a slightly darker red than before—as he stares at the ceiling. He avoids Ashton’s stare because he knows it would have him spilling more than what he wants to let out, and he’s not quite ready for that. Not yet, at least.

“Sheila still has a hold on me,” Calum states, swallowing the bile rising in his throat, “she has a hold on me and I can’t let go.”

“Cal,” exasperation flows out of Ashton as he sits next to Calum, mirroring his position to stare at the ceiling, “Sheila was—is—a bad person. She had no regard for how she made people feel, always wanting to be the center of attention, and when she doesn’t get what she wants she becomes someone completely different. Worse.”

Ashton watches Calum shut his eyes, a tear slipping out before his eyes open again.

“Toxic and abusive relationships,” Ashton sighs, continuing, “it’s—they are hard to move on from. I get that. But I know you, Cal. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

Ashton knows that it’s a weak attempt to soothe Calum, but he recalls how well Calum kept it together throughout the last year of high school. Anyone who wasn’t privy to the relationship’s ups and downs would’ve thought that Calum never went through something like that. Those who knew, though, couldn’t understand how Calum can keep his head up, but at the same time were proud of him.

Calum’s eyes flutter shut again, nose flaring as a few more tears slip out.

“Throwing the box out from under your bed is a great start.”

Calum knows it is. He hates that he’s right (and he does not know how Ashton knew about that box), but it would be best to throw it out.

“I will,” he whispers, using the sleeves of his sweatshirt to wipe at the tears.

“Now,” Ashton readjusts in his seat, “tell me exactly what happened.”

Calum heaves out a sigh, letting a few beats of silence pass before starting from the very beginning.

[helloalycia]

girl next door [three] // wanda maximoff

summary: the time has come where you realise your boyfriend just isn’t worth it, and your neighbour may or may not be an Avenger

warning/s: none i don’t think??

author’s note: part 3 is here! I kinda got carried away and wrote two more parts so my bad, but i hope you like it!

part one | part two | part four | part five | masterlist | wattpad

I couldn't be bothered with today. I just wasn't in the mood to go to work, so of course, I procrastinated as much as I could in the morning until it was finally time for me to get out of bed without being late.

Teddy had fallen asleep here last night after we watched a film, but he left earlier for work, so it was just me. I knew I had to break it off with him, it was time. But I didn't know how to tell him without hurting him. So, I was cowardly in that sense, which was only worse because I was leading him on. I'll find a way to say something soon, I promised myself as I took my clothes off and wrapped a towel around myself.

When I headed to the bathroom, I immediately slipped on the wet floor that only one person could have left behind. But, unlike the many times I had done so, I wasn't able to catch myself and instead fell on my leg, hearing a deadly crack noise, forcing a scream from my lips.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," I got out through gritted teeth, tears slipping from my eyes. The pain was unbearable and as I looked to my leg, I knew something was wrong because it instantly began to swell up and change colour.

Taking deep breaths to get through the pain, I tried not to imagine the several ways I was going to skin Teddy alive. He was so ignorant! How many times did I have to explain to him how dangerous it was to leave the floor wet?!

"It's okay, Y/N, you're okay," I told myself, before stretching and grabbing my phone from the side.

A striking pain shot up my leg and I suddenly felt nauseous, unable to deal with it. Swallowing hard, I called Teddy to give him a piece of my mind but also ask for his help since I couldn't move. Unfortunately for me, it went to fucking voicemail making me scream with frustration. I clenched my jaw as I tried to stand up myself, but more tears rolled down my cheeks as I accepted I was stuck.

The next person who came to mind was Wanda. If I was lucky and she wasn't at work, she'd be able to help me up and get me to a hospital.

I called her next and thankfully, unlike the arsehole that was my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, she answered.

"Hey, Y/N!"

I breathed out as calmly as I could. "Hi, Wanda. I, er, I need your help."

"Everything okay?" she asked with concern.

I nodded, though I felt really sick as I tried to avoid looking at my leg. "Yeah, well– no. This is really embarrassing, but I slipped on the bathroom floor and I think my leg is broken. Please can you come 'round and help me up?"

"Shit, Y/N, of course!" she exclaimed.

"Thanks," I got out breathily. "Spare key is taped under the plant pot outside my door."

"Just hold on," she insisted, before hanging up.

I dropped my phone to the side and glanced down at myself, definitely embarrassed that I was sat here in my underwear and bra, but also glad that I wasn't completely naked.

As promised, Wanda came as soon as possible and I heard her approaching the bathroom before she squeaked and covered her eyes.

"S-sorry!" she said, flustered. "I didn't mean to look. I just–"

"Wanda, you need to see if you're to help me up," I said as nicely as I could without snapping from the pent up anger reserved for Teddy.

She removed her hand, though her eyes wouldn't meet mine. "Right, yeah, duh. Okay, er..."

Successfully, she managed to lift me up and let me use her for support as we limped to my bed and I took a seat.

"Can you pass me my–"

"Clothes, right," she caught on, still not meeting my eyes, before moving around the room to grab a shirt and shorts.

I put my shirt on with ease, but she had to help me with my shorts as I tried my very hardest not to cry from the pain. My leg, or rather my knee, was turning a yellow-purple colour pretty quickly, making me flinch.

"How did this happen?" she asked with worry, gaze falling to my leg.

I clenched my jaw. "My stupid fucking boyfriend. I've told him so many fucking times to mop the damn floor! And he always says okay, but he never does! Oh, boy, when I get my hands on him, he's gonna wish he'd never been born!"

"Y/N–"

"And can you believe he has the audacity to have his damn phone switched off?! I could be dying and he wouldn't even know! That selfish, ignorant son of a–"

"Y/N!" she called, snapping me out of my rant. "Hospital."

"Right, hospital," I agreed. "No ambulances because they're way too expensive. Maybe you can get me down to a taxi and I'll take it from there?"

She raised her eyebrows with disbelief. "You're kidding, right?"

I mirrored her expression. "Er, no? Ambulances are like $700, and even with my insurance that's like $400. Taxis are, what, twenty bucks?"

She wasn't convinced as she crossed her arms and stared at me with uncertainty. I sighed and tried to stand up, but I pulled a face at the pain. She was quick to help me stand, giving me support on my right side.

"This is gonna take a while," I mumbled, biting back annoyance.

"Don't hate me," she said suddenly.

I looked to her, furrowing my brows. "What are you talking about?"

She avoided my gaze and instead swept me off my feet quite literally, taking me by surprise. I wrapped my arms around her neck on instinct, eyes widening as she held me close, bridal-style.

"Wanda, you can't just carry me like this," I said, though I was surprised at how strong she was.

She ignored me and walked out the bedroom before stopping at the fire escape. I gripped her tightly, wondering what the heck was going on. There was a hint of red in her eyes, startling me, before I noticed the two of us rising into the air. Levitation, to be exact.

"Woah!" I shouted, holding her as tightly as I could. "What the hell?! How–?! What–?!"

As she flew us away from our building, there was a red hue floating all around us, like an energy I'd never seen before. Except it seemed familiar... and that's when I put it together.

"You're that Avenger!" I blurted out. "The witch, the one with all the magical powers! You're– you're– Oh my God."

She frowned, eyes darting to mine apologetically. "I know. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

I swallowed hard, fearfully glancing over her shoulder at the clouds interwoven with the tall buildings of New York. Never in a million years did I think I'd be flying amongst them, with an Avenger nonetheless. She'd fought at the battle of New York, I remembered seeing her on the TV. She was dubbed an official Avenger not long after, but then coverage of her went quiet... because she'd moved away. It made so much sense now!

"I knew I recognised you," I said with disbelief, studying her face closely as I now knew who she was.

Her eyes still had a red hue surrounding her irises, matching the energy surrounding us as she flew us to, presumably, the hospital.

"I didn't intend to hide it," she explained guiltily. "I thought you'd figure it out. But then you didn't and it... it just never felt right to bring it up."

I thought back to the random hours she worked, the spontaneity of being called in for her shifts, her whole backstory for crying out loud... how stupid could I be?

"This... this is a conversation we should have," I said, nodding slowly, "but maybe not right now."

"Right, yeah." She nodded in agreement, jaw tensed as she stared ahead. "Just hang on."

–

After getting an x-ray at the hospital, the doctor told me I'd need to go into surgery so they could realign my knee – it wasn't anything concerning, but I wasn't exactly over the moon about it.

I returned to the hospital room to find Wanda had been waiting for me. I'd say I was surprised, but I was more grateful that she stayed. We hadn't had a moment to speak about her whole Avenger situation, and she was oddly quiet about the whole thing, so I decided to ease it into conversation whilst waiting for the doctors to return to prep me for surgery.

"You know, you didn't have to stay," I said to her, watching as she distracted herself with the stuff on the bedside table. "It's only a broken leg."

She stopped whatever she was doing and gave me a knowing look. "It's not only a broken leg. And I just thought you might like the company. Who else is going to make sure you're okay?"

I offered her a small smile. "Thank you. But the surgery is gonna take a while. I'll head home after and catch up with you then."

She seemed against the idea, but said nothing, before resuming whatever she was messing around with. The tissue box, I think.

"So... magic, huh?"

She swallowed visibly. "It's, er, not magic... at least, not exactly."

I hummed in acknowledgement, still adjusting to the fact that she had actual powers. It was amazing and unusual all at once.

"It's okay that you didn't tell me you know," I said gently, making her glance at me. "You apologised earlier. Back when we were–" I breathed out, still in mild disbelief, "–well, flying. You didn't need to. You don't have to be sorry about anything, Wanda."

She frowned. "But I lied to you."

Her Sokovian accent was more noticeable when she was upset, I noted. I wondered if she realised.

"You didn't lie, per say... more like bent the truth," I tried to make her feel better, stifling a laugh. "Either way, it's alright. Well, for me anyway. I don't know if you wanted to tell me or–"

"I did," she cut in with nod, eyes focused on me. "I wanted to."

I hoped she couldn't hear the way my heart rate picked up a little. "Okay, then I don't see a problem. You're still the same Wanda, just with a little something extra, right?"

Her shoulders relaxed and a small smile tugged at her lips. "Right."

I mirrored her expression, holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary, before tearing away when I heard the doctor enter the room. After prepping me for surgery, I headed off into the operating room and made sure Wanda knew she didn't have to be there when I came back.

They put me under, so I wasn't awake until several hours later when I woke up to horribly bright, fluorescent hospital lighting and the accompanying nasty disinfectant smell filling the room. The first thing I noticed was the giant cast on my leg, followed by the sleeping brunette in the corner of the room that was Wanda. I would have questioned why she was there as my first thought, but I couldn't help but take notice of the lovely room I was in – for starters, it wasn't shared with other patients like I expected.

"Wanda," I called, my voice rough-sounding, but she didn't stir in the slightest.

I chewed on my lip as I found the remote that controlled my bed, using it so I could sit up. I was able to grab the water on my bedside table and take a few sips before calling for her again, sounding a lot better. To my relief, she began to wake up, eyes blinking open and looking around with confusion before realisation crossed her face and she settled on me.

"You're up!" she exclaimed, before a yawn escaped her lips.

"And you're here," I returned, hinting my confusion.

"I told you I was staying," she reminded me, before standing up and approaching my bedside. "Had to make sure you were okay. And obviously to help you home. By taxi, not flying, don't worry."

I smiled at her caring nature, expression softening at how cute she was.

"Also, before you ask," she added, "your hospital bills are taken care of. Hence the room."

I lost my smile, eyebrows raising. "Come again?"

She sat at the edge of my bed, getting comfortable as she looked out the window opposite us. "I didn't want you worrying about it, especially when none of this was your fault, so I called in a favour at the Avenger's compound. Tony owed me."

I almost forgot how to breathe as my eyes widened. "Tony Stark? The Tony Stark? He's paying for my hospital bills?"

She looked to me, a hint of panic in her eyes. "I hope that's okay. I mean, I knew you would say no, but I feel like I should've done something. You've done so much for me and it was only fair."

"I can't believe..." I trailed off, losing track of what I was going to say, still shocked. It made sense with her being an Avenger, but it was still hard to believe.

"You still with me?" she joked, her hand resting on mine.

I cleared my throat, ignoring the warmth from her skin touching mine. "Yeah, sorry. I just– wow. Still digesting is all."

"Don't worry too much about it," she said gently.

I nodded weakly, swallowing hard and avoiding her gaze.

"I should go get the doctor and let her know you're awake," she said, letting go of my hand. "You okay on your own for a minute?"

"Yeah, of course. Thanks."

After a chat with the doctor and an explanation of how everything would play out from here, I was getting ready to leave for home. I got changed out of the annoying hospital gown in the bathroom attached to my hospital room (another perk of Tony Stark paying for my bills – no shared toilet) and was in the middle of adjusting to my crutches in my room when there was a knock on the door.

Wanda and I paused as we looked up, and I was about to say for whoever it was to come in, but the person came in quickly and without waiting. To my bitterness, it was Teddy of all people.

"Oh my god, Y/N, there you are!" he exclaimed upon seeing me. "I got your message, both of them. I was so worried!"

In addition to the message I'd left him when breaking my leg, I also left him another before the surgery to see if he actually cared enough to check in. Clearly not.

I gripped my crutches to get out my frustration. "It took you long enough. I went into surgery five hours ago."

He scratched his head awkwardly. "I was at work."

I rolled my eyes, promising myself I wouldn't snap, but the annoyance of everything happening was building up and I couldn't help but blurt out, "I told you to mop up when you freakin' showered, Teddy!"

"I did!"

"No, you didn't!" I shouted, raising my voice. "If you did, I wouldn't be in this fucking cast!"'

He winced. "Are you, er, sure that it was the water that you slipped on?"

I clenched my jaw, knuckles turning white from how hard I was gripping my crutches. I didn't care that I was temporarily crippled, all I could see was red.

"Am I sure?" I repeated his question, tone laced with anger. "Am I sure?!"

I attempted to lunge forward, but Wanda seemed to know what I was thinking before I did it, holding me back suddenly.

"Y/N, just leave it," she mumbled, eyes meeting mine.

Something about the way she looked at me made my anger temporarily melt away, and I almost forgot why I was mad, until...

"Who are you?" Teddy asked with confusion.

Wanda and I looked to him, figuring he was just being his usual rude self, but he genuinely had no idea who she was as he studied her curiously.

She blinked with disbelief. "Wanda....?"

He waved his hand, motioning for her to say more.

Wanda raised a brow with offence. "Y/N's neighbour...?"

He pursed his lips, eyes squinted with thought.

Wanda almost scoffed. "Really? You got nothing?"

He chewed on his lip, genuinely stumped, and I couldn't help but groan with frustration, earning his attention.

"Of course you don't know who she is!" I glared at him. "You don't listen to a word I say! Not about this, not about mopping the floor–!"

"Y/N, just calm down!" he cut me off, only adding fuel to the fire.

"No," I said sternly, before nodding to the door behind him. "You can leave. You have no need to be here since we're not together anymore."

He raised his eyebrows with shock. "Seriously? You're breaking up with me? For what?"

I breathed out through my nose, genuinely stunned at how I managed to stay with him this long without either losing my mind or killing him. I could swear he wasn't this stupid when I met him.

His eyes fell to Wanda with distaste. "Is it because of her?"

"Did you actually manage to get stupider since this morning?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"Because I totally accepted when you said you were bisexual," he continued, "but I didn't think you'd actually leave me for a woman."

I pressed my lips together, looking to my shoes as I tried to talk myself out of not killing him there and then. The fact that he was blaming the breakup on anyone but himself was disappointing but not surprising.

"Can you leave now?" I finally spoke, looking up to him with expressionless eyes.

His smile of disbelief turned into a scoff as he headed for the door. "Whatever. Your roast lamb is shit anyway."

I scrunched my face together with annoyance, unable to stop myself from yelling, "No it isn't!" as he walked out the door.

Unexpectedly, I saw the familiar red wisps of energy by the door before it suddenly slammed shut, smacking Teddy in the butt and propelling him forward with a start. He turned around to look through the glass, expecting to blame someone, but Wanda and I were nowhere near the door, so he glared our way before storming off.

"Sorry," Wanda said, referring to the door, lowering her hand and red eyes returning to normal. "He's just a real dickhead."

I tried not to laugh as I nodded in agreement, already feeling better. "You're not wrong there..." I sighed, losing my smile as I gave her an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry for everything he said. Again."

Wanda rolled her eyes dismissively, shrugging her shoulders. "You should really stop apologising on his behalf. Especially since he's not your boyfriend anymore."

I relaxed my shoulders, leaning against the bed and looking to the floor. "Yeah, you're right... I just can't believe I put up with him this long."

Wanda didn't respond, but I heard her make a weird noise before she fake-coughed terribly, making me look up. Trying ever-so-hard to suppress a smile, she shook her head apologetically when she realised I noticed.

"Sorry, I– it's not funny," she attempted.

I smiled with amusement. "What?"

She licked her lips, before giving into her smile. "I just– I can't believe it either sometimes."

I breathed out with defeat, my smile turning into laughter alongside her. Eventually, she continued to help me with my crutches before I got the hang of it and the two of us began to leave the hospital. On the way out though, a random thought dawned on me and I stopped walking suddenly.

"What is it?" she asked worriedly.

I looked to her with curiosity. "That guy who stopped by your place a while ago. Your friend. Are you telling me that was–"

"Captain America?" she filled in with an amused smile. "Yeah."

"Woah." I was amazed, eyebrows raised as I let that sink in. I spoke to the Captain America and even implied he was a stalker. Woah.

"Come on, idiot," she laughed before leading me out the hospital, finally.

–

Breaking up with Teddy was long overdue, and whereas I thought I would feel bad for doing so, it was quite the opposite. I felt better, freer, unrestrained by the stupidity that was my ex. It was a few days after leaving the hospital when I found myself sitting on the couch with Wanda. She'd been helping me during my recovery, even though I insisted I was fine alone. She, of course, didn't listen though, and I was secretly glad because it meant I could spend more time with her.

"What about that fork? Can you move that?"

Wanda gave me a knowing look from the other end of the couch, amusement knitted in her smile. "Yes, Y/N."

To prove her point, her eyes glowed red and she flicked her hand, raising the fork on the dining table up in the air before setting it down.

I was amazed. "What about that cushion?"

She stifled a laugh before levitating the cushion between us and setting it down.

"And that book?"

"I have other powers, too, y'know," she pointed out, but levitated the book nonetheless.

I grinned. "Yeah, like flying."

She nodded in agreement. "Yeah, like that..."

And this.

"Woah!" I said with a start, eyebrows raised with surprise. "Did you just– what?!"

She laughed, the sound sending a swirl of butterflies in my stomach. Her eyes sparkled as she met my gaze, amused by my amazement.

"You can speak in my mind?" I asked in bewilderment.

"I can read minds, too," she continued.

"Wow." I breathed out, still not used to her having powers. Suddenly a thought came to mind and I glanced at her. "Have you, er, read my mind?"

"Never," she assured me, before adding with a head tilt, "at least not on purpose. Sometimes, if somebody's thoughts are too loud, I can't help but hear it."

I felt my face heating up as I avoided her eyes. "But my thoughts are quiet... right?"

Every potentially-embarrassing thought I'd ever had, including those I'd had of Wanda, came to mind and I suddenly grew nervous to her answer.

"Er, well, I mean..."

I looked to her when I heard her forming an answer, but the look on her face told me she had heard my thoughts at times and I ran a hand down my face with embarrassment.

"I promise it's never anything embarrassing or anything," she tried to make me feel better.

I groaned quietly, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Hey, I promise," she said with reassurance, before I felt her rest a hand on mine and squeeze it gently.

"What was the last thing you heard?" I asked, trying to veil my curiosity with a shrug.

I felt her gaze on me and looked her way to see green eyes sparkling with amusement. "Mostly you cursing at your ex."

Cracking a smile, I nodded. "Okay, maybe that's fine then..."

Her laughter surrounded us again and she let go of my hand before pulling her legs up on the couch to get comfortable and face me. She watched me with an endearing smile, making me unusually nervous.

"So, what other things can you do with your powers?" I asked, partially curious and partially trying to distract from my nerves.

She studied her right hand, red energy wisps at the tip of her fingers. "I can... I can throw energy balls," she remembered, looking to me before smiling, "but I won't demonstrate that since I'm sure you love your curtains."

"That I do," I said in agreement, leaning on the back cushion with my elbow as I faced her better.

"I can also manipulate thoughts, but once again, I'm sure you won't want a demonstration." She chuckled as she saw my change of expression.

"Yeah, no thank you," I said jokingly.

She pressed her lips together, thinking of what else she could do, but her smile faded into a thin line as a dark thought seemed to cross her mind.

"My brother had powers, too," she said quietly. "Super speed."

Since finding out who she was, I tried to piece together Wanda's background without bringing it up to her for fear it would upset her. It made a lot more sense why she'd moved next door now that I knew who she was, but she hadn't once brought up her family again until, well, until now.

"Pietro," I said, hoping I'd got his name correct. "Right?"

She nodded, lowering her hand and looking to me. "Yeah, that's him... he also had powers. It was actually what got him killed." She barely flinched as she spoke. "He saved someone's life in the battle against Ultron."

I sensed her sadness when her gaze softened as she finished speaking, and my heart ached now that I knew the truth.

"You don't have to tell me, Wanda," I said gently, hoping she didn't feel obligated to.

"No, no...," she shook her head, "it's nice to finally be able to tell you the truth. The whole truth. Not some rendition of it."

I nodded, relaxing under her stare. I was glad, too, to know she trusted me with such sensitive information about her life. It made me feel important, kind of like confirmation that I meant as much to her as she did to me.

"Do you think you're gonna go back to the Avengers tower anytime soon?" I asked. "I know you mentioned living here was temporary, so..."

It was selfish of me to think, but I hoped the answer was no. She hadn't said, but I gathered she hadn't been fulfilling her role as an Avenger as much as she should have been, as she was still on a break from there since grieving for her brother. But she seemed better than she did when she first got here, and if that meant she was going to go back there... I hoped it didn't, selfishly enough. I know the world needed another hero, but, I mean, did they?

"Trying to get rid of me already?" she teased, quirking a brow, making me smile with embarrassment. She noticed and added, "I'm kidding, Y/N. But to answer your question, no, not yet. Maybe not ever. I thought I would be here to get away from them whilst I grieved, but I've come to like it here. It's become my new home. I can still help them and not stay there."

I tried to resist the urge to smile like a weirdo. "Oh, cool. Yeah, I get you."

Calm on the outside, but over the moon on the inside.

"Though I may have to reconsider if my neighbour keeps using me like a carnival attraction," she added playfully.

I laughed, putting my hair behind my ear as I shrugged. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. It's just so cool that you have powers!" She laughed quietly, making my smile widen. I continued without thinking, "Plus, your eyes go this pretty red colour whenever you use them and I just think that's pretty neat."

She rolled her eyes playfully, but I was surprised to see her cheeks turn the colour of said powers. God, she was stunning. I was sure I'd always known that, but maybe I'd never acknowledged the thought. Now though... she was adorable when she bit back a smile and her hazel eyes sparkled with distraction.

Suddenly remembering the beautiful girl before me had the ability to read minds, I cleared my throat and tried to debate whether or not that would be classed as a 'loud' thought. I'd liked to think it wasn't, but now I wasn't so sure... what if this was a loud thought? And she could actually hear everything I was saying about her in my head? Oh, no... I was definitely overthinking this. It was nothing to worry about.

"You okay over there? I can practically read your mind."

I looked up and saw she was teasing again, though now that I knew she had powers, those words carried a double meaning.

"Yeah, yeah, sure you can," I played along dismissively. "Nice try, Wanda."

She shrugged, laughter slipping from her lips. "Okay, whatever you say."

Nah, she was definitely playing me... right?

[aerick-cosmic-cauldron]

I can't go on just like that, I can move along with sadness, regret, and shame... But the anger and rage are burning me from inside out

I hate my fucking sister for being a selfish delusional piece of shit, I was the only one who talked to the nurses in a shitty-weak attempt to convince the medical team to save my mom's life. My sister didn't even move, she didn't say anything... She's so sure about the "afterlife" about some kind of reincarnation... My sister was constantly saying to my mom that she needed to "rest" and to "let go" fuck her spiritual beliefs, fuck all those belief systems which assumes we as human are capable of understanding the entirety of the universe and consciousness....fuck all the entitled delusional fuckers who can't stand the uncertainty of the existence and get away from the pain of it using those crappy beliefs... I hate my sister I fucking hate her for being so imbecile and pathetically hypocrite...she claims to be strong and resilient but the dumb fuck can't even stand up for the person who loved her the most and the one she loved the most... She cowardly hid behind those shitty spiritual takes instead of doing something for my mom. Fuck all of that

Fuck the incompetent parasites that call themselves doctor and nurses... First they left a piece of her vesicle inside of her, it started to rot, so they performed another operation on her and then they performed an unnecessary laparoscopic surgery (unnecessary according to another doctor of the same shitty hospital) also these dumb shits already told me she was going to die a few weeks ago but then she got better and called it a "miracle" bitch everything is a miracle to y'all dumbasses incompetent ass, yo never know what is going of course you see miracles and shit everywhere... How a person resist 12+ hours without even injecting her noraadrenaline or something... Maybe that's pure ignorance talk but something had to be done and they didn't do shit... And I didn't insist hard enough....

Fuck my entitled ass father who feels betrayed by me for not telling him about my mom's death... This disgusting pesudo-man was present from the beginning of my mom's problems and only made it worse... The earliest memories I have of him, is beating the shit out of my mom and make her fall on the floor... And he expects me to care about his bitch ass... No I don't.....also he says "I'm gonna kms" while insulting me... You dumb bitch I don't give a damn what you do with your life... I won't let this fucker cuss me like that never again... I hate this useless bastard who got my mom into the hardest position and only make her feel worse to the point she erased herself with alcohol.

I even have resentment towards my mom, why couldn't she help herself why couldn't she just care about her health more.... Why did she had to destroy herself like that, she didn't even gave me time to get better from the shit that I went through so I could help her... And she didn't even accept the friendship and help others tried to gave her... I can't hate her but I don't what to do with this anger and hate and profound sense of injustice that I get from looking at her life

I hate the world for the profound cruelty and coldness it had in my mom's early years. It was so cruel and dumb. Fuck the shitty men she encountered and ruined her, fuck the individualistic, hyper-competitive mindset imposed by capitalism that isolated my mom until she just couldn't receive help... So many disgusting ideas that are still getting praised by imbeciles...

And finally I hate myself so much for being a weak pathetic piece of shit who couldn't even insist further to save the person I love the most...I didn't fight for her like she would have done and had done in the past for me and my sister... I hate myself for always being too young, too sick or too weak to help myself or others...fuck this refusal to change and to do hard uncomfortable stuff, fuck all of this self indulgent ass tendencies and emotional survival strategies that I developed... Only to become a worse piece of shit than anyone who hurted me before... And fuck this numbness and coldness that makes me feel ok about the most disgusting, wicked and malicious shit... It makes me not even care about changing this shit... Fuck the entirety of me I'm so done with everything.....

I don't even know what to do with this rage.... Most of the shit that I talked is incomplete information and therefore pure garbage... But still an accurate representation of what I feel. Ugh god help me ... In the end all of this shit that wrote is a very ugly and childish screech saying "I miss my mom"

I miss her, I hate that she's not here I want her to live a happy life, I want her to achieve her dreams but she's dead... All of this shit is barely about her and more about my underdeveloped ass trying to accept reality...

I can't stop thinking about my mom's death, we, her son and daughter, and the hospital's medical team let her die so easily. Instead of doing something I was just crying besides her with my sister... We were so useless. If we we're in each other's places my mom would've never let us die like that, she would have screamed at every medic until they move and do something. But my sister and I we just drowned in our emotions and didn't even insist the nurses to do something and save her...

My version of this story is that I let her to die, I barely tried to insist the nurses, in such a weak way. My lack of strength, ignorance and my obsession with introspection that defines me let her die...

Before I started writing this I had no idea how furious and angry I am... I can't feel that emotion properly yet...I'm so mad at myself but I'm so mad at the hospital medical team for being so useless, I'm so mad, but as always, I have no right to be. I was just as useless as them and my sister.

My sister and I mastered the art of obsessing with our ourselves to survive and to escape loneliness. My sister does it In a extroverted way, I do it the quiet way. But to me it feels like we both have been surviving shit for so long, we never learnt to love properly, to risk ourselves to give everything for the ones who love us, unconditionally.

I'm dragging my sister into this but maybe I'm wrong about her, maybe not, I can't really be sure, but me... I need to stop exploring these feelings and memories and do whatever the shit I need to do to change as much as I can. I can't be this thing that absorbs love like a black hole and gives nothing in return, I need to learn how to give something back. But first things first... I must find a way to force myself out of my mind, build a solid sense of identity and then try and love someone unconditionally...

So much work to do but If I don't, these painfully memories will end up destroying me completely... I can't let that happen no matter how fair that sounds considering what I've done... True justice needs compassion... I'll be compassionate to myself and change myself by loving me unconditionally and I'll do the same for others... I just need time and energy...

Right now I'm thinking in doing some back workouts, that will push me out of my mind and is a specific exercise, some other day I'll learn the restnof the set, is something small and specific. A perfect first step...

[deliriumandmelancholia]

And then, when what I perceive is needed to keep them entertained or turned on (which likely has no basis in reality) is something I am uncomfortable or incapable of doing, I start to push them away instead; don’t look at me, don’t think highly of me, I don’t deserve it because I failed at Pleasing You In My HeadTM. I hate it and I don’t know how to change it.

So when I seem weird and/or distant, it’s because I don’t think I deserve your love and I don’t know how to behave. Or I feel misunderstood and/or unseen the way I feel or see myself, and so I feel invisible and like you’re perceiving me wrong and I don’t know how to correct that, how to communicate successfully and so I try to push back instead. I know all these things, but am still so helpless in how to change or even address them properly.

These things unfortunately cement my belief that I am unworthy of being loved and I am too much of a disaster to have any interpersonal relationships to begin with. I feel selfish and unkind asking people in my life to bear with me; I sure as hell wouldn’t if I had a choice. I feel as though I’m drowning and I’m clinging to others, eventually pulling everyone down with me so I try to make them let go, but I do it as I do everything; cowardly and selfishly.

I try to hide so you won’t perceive me wrongly, while simultaneously screaming how I want to be seen and desperately trying to make myself heard.

[weelittleweasley]

masquerade (part four) (d.m.)

prompt: draco malfoy was your rival in slytherin house. both of you ambitious, bold, and daring. as one of the few pureblood slytherin families left, you promised yourself that you would continue your lineage, but not with scum like malfoy. instead, you would meet a suitor at the annual masquerade ball hosted by the malfoys each year. but what if your prospective suitor is someone you didn’t expect…

warnings: language, mentions of sex, anxiety, tension, nausea, injury (snapping bones)

pairing: draco malfoy x fem! pureblood reader

word count: 7.4k

author note: thank you so much for all the love and support on this series! this is the final part! i hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! i love you!

Things were over between you and Malfoy. Whatever it was that happened between you two was done with. The ordeal of trying to pretend like there wasn’t chemistry between you two while also hating the other’s guts all while maintaining excellent grades and completing your prefect duties was exhausting. Not to mention the confession that had slipped from your glossed lips that day in the library and Draco not reciprocating feelings was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

That day in the library haunted you. Whenever you closed your eyes you saw the scene unfold. Lips pressed to sensitive skin, muffled moans ringing in your ears, the sensation of his cold, calloused hands running up your thighs as your nails dug into his shoulders. And then it came crashing down. The uncertainty and guilt that clouded his voice and his cold grey eyes empty as they stared at yours, warm and ripe and full of hope. The feeling of bile rising in your throat as he admitted his intentions as hot tears pricked up behind your eyes. For a moment, he looked sorry. But then it was washed away with a shake of his head as you ran away as fast as your legs could take you.

You felt foolish, letting yourself get so carried away with a childish fantasy that someone as evil and cruel as him would soften for someone else. You were destined to be rivals with Draco. It was foolish of you to try and derail that course. Foolish of you to surrender and admit what you were feeling. It told him that he was your weakness and now he could exploit that. Draco Malfoy was your Achilles Heel. 

Your friends immediately took note of your change in behavior after that day in the library. How you quietly sulked around the room for an hour, reading and writing in your small leather journal that your mother had gifted you. It was times like this where you needed her guidance most, but you were still scared to tell her what really happened at the ball that night. Instead, you plunged yourself in work to distract you from thinking about him and your feelings. Daphne encouraged you to talk out your feelings; that it wasn’t healthy to keep it all bottled in. You thanked her, but insisted that you rather write your feelings down for now rather than talk about them. In an odd way, seeing your thoughts laid out on a sheet of parchment was more satisfying than talking about it. The way the quill glided over the paper as you wrote down the inner workings of your mind. It was satisfying. 

The days trudged by and more time passed, but it was still so difficult to even look at Draco. Even if you had snuck a glance, your heart would sting and your stomach would feel queasy. Your mouth ran dry, your face flushed, and your palms were sweating. And somehow, each time you looked at him, Draco was always looking back. His eyes were cold and dry and empty. He had gone back to the way things normally were between you; hateful and bored with the other. You would instantly look away and shake your head, pushing the intrusive thoughts of him out of your head. 

Being in class with him was hard, but completing prefect duties was harder. Soon enough, you couldn’t take it anymore. Being on the same prefect schedule with him was torture, completing your rounds side by side, not a word spoken as you busied yourself with walking ahead of him or walking behind him. His presence made you too self-aware and too nervous to say anything. Eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore. You walked up to Pansy, another Slytherin prefect, and asked if you could switch shifts with her. She happily obliged, “Who’s your partner?”

Swallowing hard and sighing, you responded, “Malfoy” his name like poison in your mouth again. A familiar sensation. You once again hated his guts. It was a familiar, welcoming feeling. 

Pansy twisted her brows together, “Oh. Well, I don’t think so anymore. Draco got promoted to Head Boy. Professor Snape came in here weeks ago and gave him the position. I’m filling in for Draco’s position as prefect now. So it looks like we’ll be together regardless doing prefect duties.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. “Wait, wait, hold on. Snape promoted Malfoy to Head Boy?” you spoke in disbelief. First of all, Draco was a horrific prefect, he wasn’t good with the first years like you were, he often used his position to take points away from houses and give points to Slytherin, and not to mention, doled out detentions if he was looked at the wrong way. “There were so many other choices for Head Boy and they chose him? What about Ernie Macmillan? Merlin’s sake, Ron Weasley is a better choice than that! If Granger is Head Girl, you think Malfoy is going to pay attention?” you ranted on and on, completely enraged that Draco had won at something yet again. You understood why Granger got Head Girl instead of you. She was the top student in the class as well as the favorite of Professor McGonagall. But Draco? That made no sense. It was like the universe knew you needed yet another reason to despise him.

Pansy observed your fuming nature as you paced back and forth around the Slytherin common room, biting at your nails as you groaned in frustration. Gently, she reached out and touched your arm. You stopped in your tracks and looked at her concerned eyes for you. You sighed and spoke, “I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

She gave you a sad half smile. “I may not be as bright as you, (Y/N), but I know when something is bothering my best friend. You’ve been in this mood for weeks. Spending more hours in the library, keeping yourself up with studies, writing in that journal so often, stealing looks at Malfoy when you can, the way you tense up when his name is mentioned...” she speaks as you surrender, giving her hand a squeeze. “I don’t know all the details and I don’t have to, (Y/N). But just know that whatever he did or is doing...he’s a fool. A selfish, cowardly fool. You are so much better than him and you deserve much better than him.”

Her words make your heart warm as small tears form in your eyes. You had been so absent in your friend’s lives recently and yet they were so warm and loving and welcoming when you needed them most. Without saying a word, you pull Pansy into a warm hug as she hugs you tight. “I love you, Pans. Thank you.”

Pansy smiled into your neck as you hugged. “No need to thank me. I love you more.”

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

The days continued on and you were feeling better. Seeing Draco in the halls became easier, you no longer tightened your shoulders at the sight of him or held your breath when his name was mentioned in passing conversations. Instead, you made like he wasn’t there. It was much easier that way. 

What wasn’t easy was seeing Tracy Davis follow Draco around in the halls like a lovesick puppy. She would link her arm through his, giggling loudly at something he had spoken, dramatically throwing her head back. Part of you knew she was doing this for show, but part of you wondered if she was really happy, if Draco was really happy. Or was this just an alliance they had made against you in order to keep you down and make you feel worse about yourself.

You suppressed those feelings down and jotted in all into your notebook. However, a part of you still felt guilty doing this, especially when your mother asked you in her letters to you how you were, you lied and said you were great and enjoying your seventh year just fine. Lying to your mother felt like you were keeping the dirtiest secret from her. It was eating away at you. 

You hovered over your desk in your dormitory as Daphne and Pansy both sat on their beds, doing homework or reading. Daphne noticed you nervously bouncing your leg and playing with the quill in your hand as you stared at the parchment in front of you.

Daphne sat up and spoke, “Is it to your mum?” Without even turning to face her, you shake your head and bite your lip, trying to figure out where to start and how to tell her. “You don’t have to tell her everything, (Y/N). Tell her what you are comfortable sharing.”

Spinning around in the chair you say, “That’s the thing, Daph. I don’t even know what I’m comfortable sharing.” She gives you a sad look as Pansy closes her book and focuses her attention onto the conversation. “My family hates the Malfoy's. If I tell her that I was secretly seeing him here and there sporadically, I don’t know how she’ll react, nevertheless how my father will react...” you trail off. It wasn’t that your parents would loathe you or do anything rash to you. It was the threat of scandal amongst the other pureblood families that scared you. How would other families react to news of a (Y/L/N) having relations with a Malfoy? The threat was enough to keep your silence. You sigh, “I told Draco that day in the library that I was falling in love with him...” Your friends’ eyes widen. “I know, it’s a lot, but it was happening all so quickly and I blurted it out. But it was honest. There’s something about Malfoy that makes me tell him the truth. He’s like a magnet and he pulls it all out of me in one go. I think that’s one of the reasons I can’t stand to look at him. I’m afraid it’ll happen again,” you huff at Daphne and Pansy watch you sadly. “But back on the topic of my parents, I don’t know where to start. There’s so much to tell them.”

And that’s when it hits you. Your leather journal. You had been cataloging everything since the ball in there. There was no need to write a letter to your mother when you could just send her the pages of your journal. You spring to your feet and run to your bedside table, opening your drawer, and ripping out the pages that spoke of you and Draco. Pansy’s eyes widen in shock, “Woah, what’s that for?”

You run back to your desk and grab an envelope and seal it with wax and the stamp of your family’s crest. “No need to write it all down,” you walk to the window where your family’s owl, Athena, is perched, “when it’s already written down, is there?” You flash a smile to Pansy and Daphne, reassuring them that this was exactly what you needed. “Right to Mother, Athena. No time to waste,” you pet her head before she flaps her wings and takes off. 

Daphne and Pansy look at you quizzically as you smile. “It’s all written on those pages. Every thought. Every feeling. I want her to know. I need her guidance,” you tell them as they nod. Your mother always gave you the best advice and guidance whenever you needed it most. It always came from a place of fierce love and protection. Her rationale always made you feel better. And right now, you needed that more than ever.

It didn’t take long for your mother to receive your notebook pages and immediately write back to you. In fact, it took less than a day for Athena to be right back on your window sill, perched there with a content look on her face. Hopefully a good omen.

You sat on Daphne’s bed with her and Pansy, all chatting and eating sweets from Daphne’s mum’s care package from a while back. You all turned your heads to Athena and your stomach dropped. Her letter was here.

Springing from the bed, you walk to Athena and gently pluck the note from her beak. “Thank you, Athena,” you stroke her head as she gently coos at you. You walk back to Daphne’s bed and plop down, peeling the wax from the envelope as your heart thumps in your chest.

What could your mother have written? Was she cross about the fact that it was Draco? Was she surprise? Was she scared? Did your father have something to say about this?

Slowly, you unfolded the note and took a deep breath as Pansy placed a reassuring hand on your knee. “Dearest, (Y/N),” you start as you read out...

I knew the instant we got back from the ball that the situation was one that had hurt you deeply. I couldn’t imagine what it could have been; you looked like you were having such fun on the dance floor and with the suitor that you had been talking to. And then it dawned on your father and I that the only reason you would be upset was the suitor was not who you thought it was. It would have been someone you dreaded and there is only one person in the world you feel that way towards.

I didn’t want to say anything to upset you or press you into telling me the details of a conversation you didn’t want to have or were uncomfortable sharing. But I do want you to know that your father and I are not angry at you in any way shape or form. It’s alright that your suitor was Draco and that you felt some connection with him at the ball. 

Instantly, you let out a breath and relaxed. She wasn’t cross. You let out a light laugh and continue to read the letter out loud.

What I am surprised over is the fact that you continued to pursue something with him whether you realized it or not. But I should have know. Similar to your father, when you have your eyes on something, you do not give up easily. You fight for what you want until you know you can’t have it. And even then, you don’t back down. You always loved a challenge, something I have always admired about you.

The one thing that scares me, however, about this trait of yours is your liability to get hurt. Like you have. When you do see something you want, my dear child, you put everything on the line. Your feelings, your thoughts, and your heart. It’s such a beautiful thing, to be vulnerable about your feelings, and open to the suggestion of sharing your thoughts and feelings. But someone can take advantage of that as it seems Mr. Malfoy may have. 

Here’s what you need to know, my darling. Even though you have laid your thoughts and feelings and heart on the line to Mr. Malfoy, you don’t have to keep them on the line. He doesn’t not control you or your thoughts or your feelings or your heart. You are in control of those things. He cannot tell you how to think or feel or live. You are the one to make those decisions for yourself. Take back your control, darling. I know you can because I have seen you do it time and time again.

I’ve told you this many times and I will say it more and more times until your heart beats to the rhythm of the sentence. You have divine feminine energy within you. Use this to your ability. You have the energy of a thousand suns blazing in your eyes. Use this to your ability. Don’t melt yourself. Melt others with it. I know you can because I taught you how. 

(Y/N), I know you are brilliant in every way brilliance can take form. This is a mere set back in the grand life that you have ahead of yourself. I know you will push through this, it is just a matter of are you going to allow yourself to push through it?

As for your relationship with Mr. Malfoy, that is up to you. I can’t tell you how to think, feel, or live, just like he can’t tell you. But if you still find yourself longing for him after more time, then I think you have unsettled business. If he finds himself wanting the same thing...well, darling, I think you have your answer.

And for the record, may I just say, I have never seen you talk or write with such passion about someone like Draco Malfoy regardless of your standing with him at the time. You notice things about him, (Y/N). Just read your own journal. You notice the smallest details about him, the colors in his eyes, the way he talks, the sounds of his footsteps, the canter of his laugh. It’s all written down in those pages. The only time I have experienced passion like that is when your father wrote love letters to me when we were engaged. 

Now, my child, I leave you with this. What do you want to do?

If you need me, I am an owl away.

I love you most,

Mum

You close the note before you and just sigh, closing your eyes. Your mother has given you guidance, alright, but somehow you ended up more confused than before. You pull the note again and scan over her words as Pansy and Daphne wait for you to break the silence. Instead of speaking, you throw your head back and groan, flopping onto Daphne’s bed. 

The two girls both lightly laugh before Daphne says, “I’ve always loved your mum.”

You playfully slap her with the letter. “Not funny.”

Pansy starts in, “But hear her out, (Y/N). She has a point. About the way you talk about Draco...” She holds up the pages from your journal that your mum sent back as she flips through them. “May I?” she asks, seeing if she can read them out to you and Daphne as you nod your head. “His eyes are ones I can’t forget. To most they are blue. But they’re not just blue. Around his pupils are silver shards that dance around, like ice caps in the ocean. His eyes are cold, but hold so much potential. They melt when he looks into mine. But they don’t just melt for anyone, they melt for me; he melts for me.” 

Your two best friends look at you knowingly as you stare at them clueless with a shrug. “That’s poetic as all hell,” Daphne laughs, looking at the journal entries. “Look here! When he speaks to me, the words fall from his parted pink lips either the sweetest nectar or the most bitter poison. Either way, I still listen to him, hanging on every last word to ensure that I absorb it all before I can spit back a response just as witty and charming as his.” Daphne shakes her head. “And you mean to tell me that the two of aren’t smitten?”

You pull yourself up from laying down. “Okay, sure, I write about him nicely, but regardless. He told me he didn’t know what his feelings were towards me weeks ago. I haven’t spoken to him since. And it’s beside the point. He’s moved on with Tracy Davis now. The window of opportunity has slammed shut,” you inform them.

Daphne lets out a wild laugh as you furrow your brows in complete confusion. “Tracy Davis?” she cackles. “Are you daft? He can’t stand Tracy Davis!” she exclaims as you remain confused. “Sure, he and Davis danced with each other at that party and she’s around him, but that doesn’t mean he likes it. He’s been telling her to piss off since she tried spreading a rumor that he kissed her in the library!” she tells you as your eyes widen. This was news to you. “You’re forgetting that I’m also best friends with the dumb blonde bloke,” Daphne smirks. “I have intel.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me!” you smack her arm.

She holds up her hands in defense. “Hey, hey!” she exclaims, “Not anything revolutionary. Draco doesn’t talk about his feelings like that, so I don’t know exactly what he’s feeling,” she says as you groan and Pansy hits her over the head with a pillow. “Ouch! Merlin’s sake! You guys are bitches, you know that?” she rubs her head. “All I know is that he was hoping to find a certain someone in the stands of the quidditch match tomorrow...” she trails off and looks away with a smile on her face.

Your heart starts to flutter and your stomach does a flip as you swallow hard. He wanted you to come to the quidditch game tomorrow. Was he planning on telling you something? An apology of sorts? That was to be suspected after the way he acted weeks ago. “How do I know that he’s not going to be cruel to me again?” you speak wearily look to Pansy and Daphne for support. “I can’t just forget that he quite literally left me high and dry after the incident in the restricted section of the library.”

Pansy furrows her eyebrows in confusion and then her eyes widen. “You didn’t tell me that!”

Daphne hits Pansy in the arm, earning a sharp Ow! from her. “Oh, can it, Parkinson,” she huffs. “I’m not saying you should forgive him right away, (Y/N). He’d be asking for too much. But I’m saying this as both of your friends and for both of your sake’s...hear him out. Listen to what he has to say. And you can move from there. How does that sound?” she asks. You gulp and slowly nod. She was right. You didn’t need to forgive Draco for what he had done, but you did want to hear what he had to say for himself. 

“Brilliant,” Pansy smiled. “Now can you please tell me the tiny detail of the two of you banging in the library!” she yells as you laugh.

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

You stood in the mirror and looked at yourself, nibbling on your bottom lip, nervous to leave your dormitory and head out to the quidditch stands. The Slytherin scarf draped across your neck felt tight as you loosened it to breathe freely. You flopped your hair to one shoulder as you thought about what was going on happen at the game. But you couldn’t think anymore or else you’d get sick. 

“It’s just a quidditch match,” you speak out loud so Daphne and Pansy can hear your thoughts. “It’s just a regular quidditch match.”

Daphne and Pansy look at you with a smile on their face. “Exactly. We’re gonna watch Slytherin kick some major Gryffindor ass and after we will, we’re going to celebrate with loads of fire whiskey and good music. Plus, Jamie sent me a care package with lots of Daisyroot Draught that we can part take in,” Pansy tells you, walking over to the mirror that you stare at, resting her chin on your shoulder. “You look adorable,” she tells you. “Come on,” she giggles. “We wanna get good seats.”

The three of you walk through the castle, chatting about the game, making your predictions of what will happen, who’s going to score first, and making bets on plays. “If the Gryffindor stands chant Weasley at any point in the game, you owe me ten galleons and a chocolate frog,” Daphne tells Pansy.

You laugh, “Yeah, right. In his dreams. If they start chanting his name, I’ll give you fifteen galleons and three chocolate frogs.”

Daphne smiles and extends her hand, “Deal.”

The three of you are too distracted to realize that you are passing the Slytherin locker room before you halt in your tracks when someone crossed your path. The three of you stop in your tracks as your fiery eyes meet his icy ones. You look at his eyes, expecting them to stay still like they have for weeks. But contrary to what you thought, they crack under your heat and gently start to puddle and melt under yours. 

Daphne breaks the silence first, “Good luck out there, Malfoy. Don’t let us down.” She smiles at him as Draco meets her gaze and he reciprocates.

“No need to worry, we’ve got a game plan for victory,” Draco tells her as Daphne high fives him. Draco slowly looks back at you as you watch him intently for his next move. “I’m glad you guys came,” he speaks, but his eyes don’t leave yours. They remain on you the whole time monitoring your reaction as you inhale quietly at his words. A small smile plays on his lips before he speaks, “I should get out there. Game is starting soon.”

With a small wave goodbye, he scurries off, catching up to the rest of his teammates as you three continue to walk to the stands. Pansy hits your shoulder teasingly. “Someone looked happy to see you.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” you laugh at her.

You and your friends make it to the Slytherin section of the quidditch stands, students of all years gathering to watch the game, hooting and hollering for their house. The excitement in the air was palpable and you couldn’t help but smile. Quidditch matches were always great fun.

Surveying the stands, you try to find other faces that you recognized. That’s when you stumble upon Tracy Davis with #03 drawn in green make up on her cheek. That was Draco’s number. You tap Daphne on the shoulder and nod in her direction. “What the fuck is that?” you ask, genuinely curious. Daph said there was nothing between Tracy and Draco, but this could prove otherwise.

Daphne groans, “You’re bloody kidding me.”

Daphne, with no sense of control, stands up on the the bench and yells out over the crowd. “Oi! Davis!” she screams, drawing everyone’s eyes to Daphne and then to Tracy. “Get Malfoy’s number off your cheek, eh?! He’s got his eyes on someone else and he’s told you he’s not interested! Need I remind you of the little conversation we had three days ago, yeah?” she threatens as Tracy’s eyes go wide before wiping the number off of her cheek with her scarf. “That’s more like it.”

She hops down from the bench as the crowd around her laughs and you blush wildly. “What was that for? And what conversation did you have with Davis that gave her that reaction?”

Daphne smirks, “Let’s just say that if I catch David flirting with Malfoy, she’ll have bigger problems to worry about then me calling her out in front of the student body.” Madam Hooch’s whistle blows. “Alright, now, pay attention, the game is starting.”

Within seconds, the Slytherin quidditch team and Gryffindor quidditch team fly out on their brooms onto the field as everyone begins to cheer. You could feel the adrenaline in the stands. As you clapped, you watched as Draco flew out smoothly on his broom, running his fingers through his platinum hair as you saw his eyes search the stands for someone. His blue eyes scanned the stands quickly before they found yours as you looked back at him. Sighing, you let a small smile creep up onto your lips before a smile appeared on Draco’s. A rosy blush appeared on his cheeks before he looked away quickly and refocusing on the game. Slowly, the same rosy hue appeared on yours and you smiled to yourself. 

“Did I just see that right?” Pansy teases as you roll your eyes.

“Oh, would you focus on the game, Parkinson!” you laugh, pushing her arm jokingly as she laughs.

And soon enough, they are off. Draco immediately off to catch the snitch against Harry, the rest of the teams on the field, zooming past on their brooms. Draco flies around the arena on his broom and you can’t help but watch in awe. As much as you hated to admit it, the boy was good. He knew exactly how to maneuver himself in a manner that would get him just ahead of Harry, flying just underneath him before dying upwards to abruptly cut him off. He was a skilled seeker.

The game was going on for quite sometime now and people were biting their nails. There were so many close calls of where the snitch had almost been caught but was just out of reach for Draco or Potter. 

You watched intently as green uniforms zipped past maroon ones as the crowd cheered as their beloved quidditch team zoomed by them. “Come on, Malfoy,” you whisper to yourself, watching him as he and Harry bump into each other and push past to catch the snitch.

That was the thing that you noticed about Draco whenever he was doing something that required patience. He would get frustrated. You could see it now as he contorted his face and scrunched up his nose as his eyes darted between the snitch and Potter. The grip on his broom was iron as he continued to soar through the the arena, desperately reaching for the snitch before it zipped another way. 

As the game kept on, you nervously danced in your stance. “I don’t know if I can watch,” Pansy nibbled on her painted black nails. “It’s driving me nuts.”

You would agree with Pansy, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the field as Draco continued to zoom back and forth and back and forth, your head growing dizzy by how intently you watched him.

Draco was growing more irritable by the second, you could tell by his body language. His mind was elsewhere as he looked around the field, losing track of the snitch. He wasn’t in the game. 

His eyes darted around, but before he could realize, the bludger was hurling towards him at lightning speed. With a hit to the gut, Draco fell off his broom and right onto the grassy ground as the crowd gasped. Your heart sunk and your mind instantly yelled for you to go to him. “Oh, shit,” you whisper as you look at the ground worriedly as Draco held onto his side, writhing in pain, eyes sealed shut. “I have to go to him,” you say without much thought.

Before anyone can protest, you are running down from the stands and to the field as you can hear Madam Hooch blow the whistle and pause the game due to an injury. Draco is immediately taken to the infirmary as you watch him be carried off the field. 

You follow the group of mediwitches as they bring Draco to Madam Pomfrey, a few of his teammates alongside him, trying to ease his mind. You could hear Draco speak about how they should put the alternate Seeker in and finish the game. He spoke about how they needed the win, but Zabini kept saying that the game would still be paused until Madam Pomfrey knew he was alright and didn’t break any bones. Draco groaned, insisting that he was fine and that he even thought he could finish the game, but it just earned him laughs.

As they put Draco in a hospital bed, you waited to go in, instead standing outside, biting your nails nervously. He would be just fine, but that didn’t stop you from worrying. 

You intently listen in on the conversation happening inside with Madam Pomfrey, Draco, Zabini, and Goyle. You hear Draco groan in pain and Madam Pomfrey state, “Two broken ribs. Nothing too serious, but enough to keep you out for the rest of the game.” Draco tries to convince Pomfrey to let him play, but she just shakes her head and speaks, “Absolutely not, my dear. Can’t risk it. Anyway, boys, hold down, Mr. Malfoy’s arms. This may cause him a bit of pain...Ferula!” she chants as you hear bones snap back into place and Draco cry out in pain which makes you wince at his voice. “There we go. You can let him go, boys, thank you,” she tells him. “Drink this. It’ll help you feel better,” she instructs. “Now, rest. You boys tell Madam Hooch that Mr. Malfoy will be just fine. The game can go on if you see fit.”

Draco sighs and starts devising, “Put Harper in. He’ll be just fine. Keep doing what we’re doing and tell Harper no matter what Potter does to throw him off balance, push through. At the end of the day, Potter doesn’t know his ass from his elbow.” You hear Goyle and Zabini exchange a few words with Draco, making chatter.

Taking a deep breathe, you decide that now was the time to make your presence know. Slowly, you walk into the entrance of the hospital wing and watch as Draco is laid in his hospital bed, Goyle and Zabini at the edge of the bed. Other students are in other hospital beds, either resting or chatting to their visitors. You softly smile as your eyes land on Draco as you see him sitting up, wincing in pain. He tells his friends that he’s fine, but he clutches onto his side and winces. Poor boy.

Slowly, Draco scans the room and his eyes fall on you as they widen. He’s shocked to see you are there to say the least. “Um,” Draco stutters. “You guys should get back onto the field. Remember, play the offensive. Defense will fall back if we need to,” he directs before Goyle and Zabini walk away.

Zabini looks at Goyle knowingly before he looks at you, “(Y/L/N).” He smirks.

You nod, “Goyle, Zabini.”

Goyle smiles, “Have fun.”

You gulp a little before making your way to Draco’s bed and stand by him. “You took a pretty nasty blow, yeah?” you chuckle.

Draco sighs with a small smile, “Nothing I can’t handle.” You just look at him for a moment, the two of you just looking at each other, typical. You look around and spot the chair next to his bed as you point to it, questioning if you can sit with your eyes. “Please,” he tells you.

You sit in the chair beside his bed and clear your throat awkwardly. 

It’s silent for a while, neither of you knowing how to start this conversation. 

Draco is the first to speak, “I’m glad you came to the game. Even though you left now to come see me, I’m still glad you came.”

“Of course,” you nod your head. “I love watching you play quidditch. W-Well, I mean, everyone I suppose,” you stutter over your words as Draco smiles gently at you. 

It’s silent again. This was painful.

Draco sighs, “I obviously wanted to do this in a different setting, but I’m still going to say it.” You swallow hard as you bite down on your lip, waiting to hear what Draco has to say. “I’m a coward, (Y/N). I am. You’ve always been braver than me and I admit it. In everything. You’ve always been bolder, more confident, and more unapologetic than I have been and I’ve always envied you for it in more ways than one,” he speaks. “I’m a coward to not saying anything to you after the ball. I’m a coward for not giving you an explanation for my behaviors. And most of all I’m a coward and a dick for treating you the way I did in the library weeks ago.”

“Draco, I-”

“Please,” he begs you. “Don’t make excuses for me. I know we’ve had it out for each other for years and I guess the night we shared at the ball made me question everything I’ve ever known about our relationship at that scared the hell out of me,” he confesses. He felt that same way that you did, but it was comforting to know that you were both in the same boat. “You were trying to be upfront with me about things and I only played games with you and I’m sorry. The thought of being with someone that I was supposed to hate with every cell inside my body was something that made me sick. I tried to avoid you at all costs, but at the end of the day...I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart beats hard against your ribs and your stomach is doing flips. Your mouth is dry and your mind is mush. Was this real? Draco was confessing his feelings?

“I know our families have vendettas against each other, but I can’t live that that when I know how I feel about you,” he confesses.

A shaky smile appears on your face as you deeply inhale. “And...how is it you feel about me?” you lean in closer, resting your elbows on your knees, propping your head up with your hands teasingly.

This makes Draco chuckle. “Well,” he clears his throat. “I hate the way that you always seem to show up at the most inconvenient times,” he jokes as you giggle. “I hate the way that we get along like a house on fire when we least want to, I hate the way that you know exactly how to push my buttons, but I know exactly how to push them back, I hate the way you can just give me a look and you can have me thinking about that look for weeks,” he breathes as you blush. “I hate the way that I didn’t recognize your beautiful eyes the moment I looked at them in that bloody ballroom,” he tells you. “I hate the way that I didn’t kiss you that night,” he speaks as your heart starts beating faster and harder, you can hear it in your ears. “I hate the way that I didn’t tell you how I felt about you that day in the library.”

You sit up straight and speak with all sincerity in your voice. “Tell me now, Draco,” you speak just above a whisper. “Please.”

He sighs, “I’m not falling in love with you, (Y/N).” 

Your heart stops. It sinks into your stomach. The room starts to spin. What?

“Because I’m already in love with you.”

You let out a shaky breath as you chuckle. “Merlin, Malfoy,” you breathe out and shake your head. “I’ll break your ribs again, don’t tempt me.”

Draco laughs, “I’m sure you would, princess.” Your heart flutters at his nickname for you that he had given you weeks ago in the library. “But I do. I’m in love with you. I just didn’t realize it at the time, but it’s true. And I don’t expect you to complete forgive and forget everything that went down between us. But I just want to know that we still have a chance together.” You smile and hold his hand in yours giving it a squeeze, letting him know that this was quite alright. “I don’t believe in fate or destiny,” he tells you, referring back to that first conversation that you had in the gardens at the ball, “But I do believe that night happened for a reason. And you and I are supposed to be here. Together. Now.”

Without saying another word, you lean in and kiss him. Your lips are gentle on his, not nearly as rough or desperate as your other kisses have been. It’s sweet and it’s soft and it’s just as passionate as your others have been. His other hand cups your face and draws you closer to him as he inhales deeply, savoring this moment between the two of you. Slowly, you draw away from each other and press your foreheads against each other, resting there for a moment.

You slowly smile and let out a breathy laugh, “You really drive me mad.”

Draco smiles, “Get used to it. Because I’m not stopping anytime soon, my love.”

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

Months have passed. Graduation was complete, you graduated second in the class right behind Granger and Draco not too far behind you. It was something you would hold over his head for the rest of his life and something he would grow to hate (but secretly love how competitive you still were).

It was the summer now, the grass was lush and green in the countryside and white and yellow flowers erupted all over the gardens of the Malfoy Manor. You admired each one as you went for your morning stroll, book in hand as you quietly read to yourself, flipping the pages every so often.

You let the fresh summer air fill your lungs as you smiled to yourself happily. The gentle breeze made the skirt of your sundress dance as you walked through the gardens, letting your finger tips brush the lush brush underneath you. The manor was beautiful in the early afternoon.

As you continued to stroll, you heard, “Love?”

“By the roses, darling!” you called out with a smile in your voice as you heard Draco call out for you.

Soon enough, there he was, dressed in fresh pressed tan trousers and a crisp white shirt. His platinum blonde hair was swept back perfectly as he ran his hands through it. “Hello, gorgeous,” he smirks as he walks up to you, arms wrapping around your waist and ducking his head down to place a sweet kiss to your lips as you smile. 

Draco lips danced with a smirk as you furrowed your brows, knowing he was up to something. “What did you do?” you giggle.

He scoffs, “What? I can’t look at you and smile?” He teasingly pokes at your side as you knock his bicep with your book. Draco looks next to him as the erupting rose bush and with a snap of his fingers, a white rose finds its way his hands. “For you, my dear.” Just like he did months ago at the ball. Your heart flutters.

You smile and accept the rose with a kiss on his lips swiftly. “Thank you,” you laugh. Draco links his arm with yours, continuing to stroll through the gardens with you.

“You know the drill,” he sighs. “Rose, bud, thorn. Hit me with it.” Smiling, you think, “Rose. It’s really a perfect day outside. I’m delighted to spend the day out here. Bud. I’m looking forward to my parents’ arrival at the manor today. And I don’t think there is a thorn today. So far, so good.” Draco smiles at you and kisses your temple. “Your turn.”

He thinks. “No thorn for me either. Rose is spending the day with your parents. Bud is only two more weeks until I get to call you Mrs. Draco Malfoy,” he pulls you closer to his side. He holds your left hand up so he can see the ring that he had placed on your ring finger just three months before. The ring glimmered in the sunshine as he inspected it. “I did quite a bloody good job, didn’t I?” he praises himself as you roll your eyes.

But he was right. The ring was beautiful (and large). A beautiful diamond set in the middle of two emeralds. Draco had gotten the ring custom made for you. He had taken the mask that you had worn to the masquerade ball and had the ring made from the jewels on the mask. The sentiment was enough to have you a crying, babbling mess when he told you after he had proposed. 

Draco had proposed right after you graduated. He wanted to get married and start your lives together as soon as possible. He had proposed in a very subtle way, but you couldn’t ask for anything more. Draco had taken you to a beautiful flat in the heart of London. It overlooked the city and had copious amounts of space. That’s when he told you that he had bought it for the two of you. It was close enough to Healer School and St. Mungo’s so you could both study and then work couldn’t be too far. It had a large master bedroom, a guest room, an office, and another smaller bedroom that Draco suggested could be a nursery. And that’s when he got on one knee and asked you to be his forever.

You smiled at your fiancé. “You did a lovely job, darling,” you smiled up at him, running your fingers through his hair. “Good Godric, I love you so much.”

“I love you so much more than that,” he challenged as you rolled your eyes. “Forever and always, my love.”

Your heart fluttered at the thought. Forever and always with Draco Malfoy. If you had told yourself at the beginning of the year that you would be engaged to your sworn rival, you would have laughed in your own face. But the now, you couldn’t imagine doing life without him.

If this wasn’t proof that destiny or fate existed, you didn’t know what did.

------

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[eclipsebythedawn]

Smothered Flames & Shadows (Part 1)

Hi guys! So this is my first fanfiction ever, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even good but I thought I wanted to share some Gwynriel with you all :) I have a sort of story planned out and this will likely have more parts. I’m pretty sure I will continue this story since I have more stuff planned out (hence the part 1) but right now it’s just some Gwynriel crumbs. Hope you guys will enjoy it and stay safe wherever you are. 

(How are we gonna wait like ten years for the Gwynriel book because I believe in you SJM you MUST MUST give us Gwynriel ??!) 

Ps. This is the updated version, I added a new chunk for Azriel’s reaction. (Updated on 26 April 2021)

Azriel's wings flapped as he patrolled the skies. The dense cloud cover as well as the fading sunlight disguised his presence and he needed minimal effort to remain hidden. His shadows could taste the looming chaos and flitted around him warningly.

Be careful, be careful.

He could hear through their thoughts and saw through their lingering words. All was quiet here, it seemed. He would much rather preferred to be stationed at the ethereally beautiful Dawn Court, their High Lord serene but with an inner strength that was unflappable, instead of... here.

The Autumn Court held no such delights. Yes, the scenery was more than picturesque -- its flora suspended in eternal autumn, the golden-brown leaves swirling leisurely through the air, their russet color so much like a certain male that was mated to a certain girl he could never have.

Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.

Unbidden, his brother's fury-driven words cut into his muddled thoughts. Azriel knew that he was old and cranky and Rhys didn't deserve his anger and resentment after what he went through for all of them, but he was... gods, he was so damn tired.

The first female outside of Mor who had caught his eyes -- of course she had to be denied from him. Cauldron knew that the Mother had never shone its light on him, not that he even deserved to be embraced by Her warmth.

His mind finally allowed him to remember the beautiful brunette always on the back of his mind. Her doe-like eyes, sweet smile and that alluring scent, so pure and innocent and arousing and --

Fuck.

Azriel adjusted himself, his pants stifling and uncomfortable. Shit. He was in deep shit. But he couldn't stop himself from fantasizing about how she would taste, how she would look when he made her come.

Rhys's words from the other day, during solstice so many months ago, hadn't helped. Azriel's desperate lust had only grown even more to the point that he was actively avoiding the second Archeron sister so she wouldn't scent his arousal.

For that matter, so his two brothers wouldn't catch him lusting after her especially after the warning he was given.

And she seemed to be avoiding him too.

Azriel made one more round in the skies, the night as chilly and familiar as his own shadows that seemed strangely subdued now. His thoughts continued to stray towards...

Elain.

Beautiful, clean, pure, worthy Elain. He was none of those things, he knew that. Had resigned himself to it after five centuries of futile pining for a female that never returned his desires. He did not blame Mor. Could not blame Mor. He was tainted and she deserved someone better than him.

But when he saw Elain... Their unlikely friendship had gradually turned into something more. It had only continued to develop after Elain was Made High Fae and he became even more attuned to her, constantly sharing the same space. And for the first time since Mor, he wanted. He wanted to have what his two brothers had. It was wrong and it was selfish, but he saw Rhys and Cassian and he wondered --

Maybe the Cauldron had made a mistake. Three sisters of blood and three brothers of choice. Two thirds fulfilled, and somewhere deep down inside, he had been uselessly, worthlessly holding onto hope.

He had not dared to whisper it out loud until Rhys caught him just before their kiss. And Rhys reaction had only served to remind him why he was wrong for her. Why Elain deserved someone else.

But for the first time in his life, he wanted to throw caution to the wind.

Deciding that all was well and not wanting to remain a second longer, Azriel gathered his shadows and prepared to winnow back to home. He frowned when his shadows flittered over him... disapprovingly?

Yes, that was disapproval. His lips tightened as they swirled around him angrily.

What the hell was wrong with them tonight?

Azriel yanked on his petulant shadows. They continued to ignore him, some even going as far as to ignore him.

He scowled. His shadows were stepping out of line more and more frequently as thought something was bothering him.

Or someone.

He shoved aside the image of tendrils dancing and singing around a certain redhead, her bright teal eyes laughing and --

Azriel forcibly winnowed and dragged his disobeying shadows after him, leaping across the miles between the Autumn Court and home within a single step, resigning himself to a lonely night -- as always.

~~~

The night was alive.

It was a comforting blanket draped over her, Gwyn mused silently.

But she felt dead.

It was going to be one of those nights, then. Those nights when she woke up screaming, drenched in sweat only to realize it was just another nightmare. That reality was like a noose tied around her neck, dragging her further down into the pits of Hell where she belonged.

She would never meet Catrin even in death. Because her lovely, beautiful sister who had shone like the brightest star was amongst the stars in the heavens. That single thought was the only thing pushing her forward on the worst of nights.

On nights where flinging herself out of a high balcony on the impossible chance that she would see Catrin again seemed possible. Gwyn had thought that that was before.

Before Nesta, before Emerie, before meeting her Valkyrie sisters whom she knew would and had walked with her through pain and darkness and led her back.

But even after so much training, nothing had changed. She was still the cowardly, timid, broken doll she thought she had left behind.

Gwyn sighed even as sadness and pain, always so much pain, swelled inside her. Logically she knew she wasn't thinking straight. If Nesta or Emerie were here, they would be chiding her for her thoughts, the former sharp but mindful, and the latter firm but gentle. A small smile came onto her faces at all the memories they shared.

The cutting of the ribbon. Winning the obstacle course that served as the Blood Rite Qualifier. And then winning the actual Blood Rite itself while Nesta -- unyielding, unflinching -- held the lines for Gwyn and Emerie to be crowned as Carynthians.

And now, Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony. Despite everything she was feeling, Gwyn was happy for her friend.

Her sister by choice.

She knew Nesta deserved Cassian as he did her, and she felt genuine happiness for the pair. It was obvious during the long months of initial, grueling training that there was a spark between the two. An attraction that could not be denied.

She longed to find that love though in truth Gwyn knew she might never be ready for it.

Her point was further proven yesterday when Nesta had invited them during a break in training to her mating ceremony, held in a week's time. Gwyn knew that preparations were already underway and she was as honored and grateful as Emerie to be invited, but still she had hesitated, especially at the list of invited and accepted guests.

It wasn't mortifyingly long since Nesta only wanted close friends and family and Cassian only wanted the High Lord, Rhysand and Azriel, but the guest was filled with important names that made Gwyn nervous just to hear them.

The High Lord and High Lady were enough to make her dizzy. And then there was the High Lord's Second and Third, both formidable females in their own right. Gwyn thought wryly though that Emerie had seemed flustered and even blushed a little when her ears caught on a certain someone's name in the list Nesta had shared.

She was happy for her friend too. Emerie deserved friendship -- and love, if that relationship could blossom. But she knew better than interfere when her own relationships were so precarious.

The Prince of Adriata was coming, along with Mother above, the High Lord of the Day Court, Helion. Nesta's younger sister Elain was on the list as well though Nesta's face had clouded a bit when she read her name out loud. And then there was her mate -- Lucien Vanserra.

The supposedly exiled son of the High Lord of Autumn, who had ties to numerous Courts and was a valuable ally.

It was silly and stupid but amidst this sea of important names, Gwyn had wondered on more than one occasion what she could even do there. She had immediately scolded herself mentally, that she would be attending the ceremony for Nesta and even Cassian, who had become a bit of an older brother figure to her, and she would have Emerie with her.

She knew Emerie would fight anyone who dared to even look at her the wrong way.

But the larger part of Gwyn was scared. So many people would be attending, especially the males. It wasn't as if Helion or Lucien would randomly pounce on her, and that her fear was irrational, but she couldn't stop thinking about them. Couldn't stop thinking about that day where so many males surrounded her, where that hateful Hybern commander had ordered her held down, had pummeled into her as silent tears fell down her face, had laughed in her face and --

Gwyn counted the stars in the sky in time to her quickened breathing. Deep breaths, she told herself. When she couldn't sleep on nights like these she would train until nearly the breaking of dawn. She should get up from her position on the ground.

Probably.

But lying on the cold floor of the training area atop the House of Wind was a refreshing change. After having been coped up in the library for two years, she had finally decided to join Nesta in her morning training sessions with Cassian.

It was quite possibly the best decision she had ever made.

But still... But still, the doubt lingered. It festered. It thrived on her pain and self-hatred, quietly growing on nights like these.

It thrived at the fact that Emerie had accepted the invitation immediately, but Gwyn, worthless, selfish Gwyn had not. Was she so pathetic that she couldn't even congratulate her friend on her special day?

She should really get up. Perhaps train a bit more, instead of lying here wallowing in her dark thoughts.

Then a tiny tendril of shadow-kissed power gently prodded her arm. She startled, turning around and half-getting up.

She already knew who would be standing before her with his usual contemplative silence.

Azriel.

He was before her and she froze for one second. A twinge of fear crept in at his closeness, at the nearness of another male, so suddenly and unpredicted --

Azriel took a step back, saying softly, "I'm sorry if I surprised you."

Gwyn blinked. The shadowsinger was nothing but the epitome of manners and he had likely scented her fear.

"It's fine." And that was true. Her fear had instantly washed away as abruptly as it had arrived upon realizing who was here.

Azriel would never hurt her, Gwyn was sure of that.

She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the awkward silence that had descended.

"Are you here for something?" She winced slightly at her choice of words. This was his home. She had no right to even utter such a question when she was the outsider.

Before Azriel could reply, another shadow darted out and wrapped itself around her arm before rushing back to its master. Gwyn felt the corners of her lips twitched up as the shadowsinger blinked once, twice in... shock.

"Did you forget your favorite dagger again?" She teased and was rewarded with a faint blush on his cheeks. His lovely and if she dared say, adorable shadows had given her the courage she needed.

To her surprise, he played along. "Have you seen an eighteen-inch dagger anywhere?"

Gwyn burst out laughing at the ridiculous statement.

"May I remind you that it's a dagger you have misplaced -- not a sword?"

"Forgive me if my memory fails sometimes." Was she seeing things or was there a twinkle in his eyes?

"Well, you do seem to forget things rather easily." Oh, she was certain! Amusement ran deep inside his hazel eyes and Gwyn felt breathless for a second, mesmerized by the beautiful male.

Staring into his eyes... She smiled at him, a genuine crinkling of her eyes. He had lifted her mood within seconds of his arrival.

Azriel seemed to freeze for a second, his usual stillness somehow magnifying. Intensifying. His shadows writhed around and she had the odd feeling that he was struggling to control them.

She blinked, and the moment passed.

"Were you training?" Azriel motioned towards her sweaty body. She nodded mutely, still caught up in what had occurred. Was it just her imagination? Looking at the stoic Illyrian standing before her, Gwyn decided she was just too tired, and her mind was playing tricks on her.

"...My help?"

Gwyn snapped out of her thoughts, head jerking up. "What?"

Azriel cocked an eyebrow at her obvious inattentiveness and she felt herself blushing. She chided herself mentally.

"Do you require my help?" He repeated the question, that faint amusement still dancing in his eyes.

"Wait. Are you asking to train me?" Another eyebrow raise.

"Were you expecting me to teach you the benefits of lying on the cold floor in the middle of the night?" He replied dryly.

Gwyn scowled and immediately stood up.

"Uh-huh. I was expecting you to fling your arms about and start serenading me."

"Is that a demand?" Azriel chuckled quietly. Gwyn thought that might be the most heavenly sound she had ever heard.

"Is that a challenge?" Gwyn shot back, not missing a beat.

The corners of his lips twitched up. Gwyn wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, her competitive streak setting in. She was also excited for this match because truth be told, she had been training everyday in anticipation of wiping the floor with the shadowsinger. It was her secret fantasy.

Not that it would happen anytime still but... Still.

"You can help me with my training. But on one condition."

Azriel contemplated her more seriously before he nodded his head.

"We fight now. Hand-to-hand."

~~~

The night was alive.

And Gwyneth Berdara was the full moon that accompanied it, shining brightly even amidst the darkness. She was so lovely, yet he sensed something pure and burning thriving inside her. His shadows yearned to flit around her, touch her, dance and sing for her. He had to keep them on a tight leash, and they were unhappy.

Little tendrils of darkness swirled around him petulantly. They wanted to go to Gwyn. Would have gone to her without his intervention. One stray thread snuck out and nearly coiled around Gwyn's wrist before he snatched it back in time. He could have sworn his own shadows growled at him. But he had bigger things to focus on.

Like the fact that Gwyn had just challenged Azriel to a duel.

Once again, his shadows had failed to mention that she was here. There was no quick escape that didn't end in awkwardness so he had stayed -- and so far he was... contented. Being around her seemed to have that effect on himself.

She was humming to herself as she stretched, preparing her body before their fight. His shadows buzzed around excitedly, seeming to forget about their earlier disagreement. He supposed there was no question who they were rooting for.

"Ready?" He asked Gwyn. She nodded, then held up a hand.

"Wait." She retied her ponytail, not letting even a single strand of her coppery chestnut obstructing her vision. He admired her competitiveness, her courage and strength in always fighting for the best.

Meeting her by chance here again reminded him of solstice, and his mind wandered to Elain before he slammed down his thoughts.

Focus. He had watched and trained Gwyn enough to know that she was a threat: an emerging dark horse that proved unpredictable and cunning. He also knew she had silently studied his fighting style enough to know more than just a few of his preferred tricks.

They circled each other, neither one of them making the first move.

He had drilled into her what signs to look out for, what feints and what blockings would be an unexpected yet effective counterattack that he was more than a little wary.

Still, he decided to make the first move, which was so out of his usual style that he hoped she would be unprepared. He had the feeling that she already knew he was going to attack first though as she sidestepped him and threw a punch.

Like he was expecting. He grabbed it and pulled her towards him to jilt her balance, but she was already expecting that and swept out her leg, forcing him to move unless he wanted to end up on the ground. The next move he had perfected to mastery.

He pretended to feint left when he was actually aiming for the left. A cheap shot, but he had also taught her that no real fights were clean and honest. She twisted her body but they both knew she wouldn't dodged in time.

At the last moment, his shadows decided to move and --

Capture his fucking hand. They wrapped themselves around him and his eyes widened as he was stopped mid-throw by his own shadows. The scenario would have been laughable if he wasn't in so much disbelief. They had never outright hindered him in any battles before.

He cursed, barely dodging the next kick Gwyn sent his way. They broke apart again and Gwyn asked, "Something wrong?" She glanced towards his wayward shadows and he had a strong feeling she knew.  

He shook his head, glaring at his swirling shadows. They just blinked up at him innocently.

Don't hurt her. Don't hurt her. Lovely mistress lovely mistress lovely mistress.

He gritted his teeth. Their fancy for Gwyn had reached the point of obsession but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she squinted and then broke into a grin.

"Aha. I thought I saw your little friends earlier." At her words, his shadows flew towards her joyfully, happy to be recognized. Azriel rubbed his neck as his shadows neared Gwyn, knowing that she had to secretly hate them for being so ugly and tainted and unworthy --

Gwyn bent down. What she did next would stay in his memories forever. Holding out an arm, she let his shadows coiled around the entire length, wisps of midnight trailing her as she walked towards Azriel.

His shadows were happier than he had ever known them to be. He could feel their joy with every step she took, sense the way they were telling him to look look look look.

Then Gwyn smiled at him, her teal eyes so clear and large.

"Your shadows are beautiful."

~~~

"Your shadows are beautiful."

Azriel stood still. His entire body was frozen, and even his heart seemed to cease its beating.

Gwyn took a step back at whatever expression was on his face. What she said... Did she understand that what she said -- no one had ever deigned to voice before?

Did she look at his hideous soul and scarred hands?

Did she see how truly stained he was?

He wanted to believe she did. He had never wanted something more than Gwyn seeing him, truly seeing him be true. But if it were true...

How could his shadows be beautiful?

"I'm -- I'm sorry for stepping out of line." She stuttered out, her eyes wide.

Azriel glanced up sharply, snapped out of his trance. She looked horrified and was stammering out another apology, her pitch high and wobbly.

Shit.

Before he could process what he was saying, words tumbled out of his mouth, aided by the push of an impatient shadow desperate to right all things wrong.

"It is I who should be apologizing." His voice was a soft whisper in the night breeze. Gwyn paused halfway through her long speech and she stood there gaping at him.

"I am sorry, Gwyn." Azriel truly was. He could feel the shame gnawing at him. Yet another mistake. Yet another disappointment. He was a lowly half-breed bastard. His "little friends" curled around his tightening fists anxiously. He could not quite meet her eyes as chagrin dragged him down and whispered,"I should not have reacted the way I did."

He did not know what to expect. The infamous spymaster that was Azriel could never anticipate any of Gwyn's actions. She was an enigma, a mystery that constantly evaded him, the light at the end of the tunnel that shied away from him at every twist and turn.

He saw Gwyn take a deep breath from his peripheral vision and steeled himself. He gathered the remnants of his scattered mask, ready to return to just the High Lord's spymaster.

And then Gwyn spoke.

"I... I do not know your story. I do not know the dark tales that define your past. But I know you. And I know that whatever it is... It does not define you. It does not define the male I see standing before me. It cannot define the male who saved my very life, who --" Here her voice caught and she had to stop for a moment.

Azriel's heart clenched painfully. He did not know why but... He wanted to hug her and show her that her past had never defined her. Not for him, not for Nesta or Emerie and he wanted her to know that it shouldn't for herself.

"Who placed that cloak upon me with such gentle hands." She continued softly, gazing down at his scarred palms. And for the first time in a sea of forever, Azriel did not feel the urge to hide his shadow-kissed hands. Those same shadows began to swirl towards Gwyn and she did not flinch.

She only continued staring at him with those eyes that could see through everything. Did he want them to see through him? Yes.

She sees. And she is not afraid. Azriel's shadows basked them in a cocoon of living darkness.

"I refuse to let your past define you. I do not accept that. So fight. Your story... even if it never comes to me, there is nothing it can tell me that I don't already know. You are brave, thoughtful and so, so kind. You and Cassian trusted me to survive and conquer the Rite as you two had trusted Nesta and Emerie. If not then both of you would have stormed in immediately, and no law could have overruled you. So please... Please believe in me like you did. Just this once, if nothing else." Gwyn finished a little breathlessly and he knew she had rushed through the last part because she was nervous.

But somehow the bit that stuck out to him was her thinking he used to believe in her. He did, but used to? He still did. And he wanted her to know that, more than anything. He wanted Gwyn to know that he had never stop believing in her.

And seeing Gwyn's crestfallen face as each second passed and he still remained silently, he knew she was thinking the worst.

He wanted her smile back. His shadows wanted that too.

But more than anything, they both wanted her to sing again. And looking at her dispirited expression, at that moment even his shadows were unsure whether she would find her voice again.

She had spilled her thoughts to him, and he was standing there like an idiot.

Your words, Azriel. Use your words.

His shadows were begging him to say something. Anything, please please please.

As she turned to leave, he finally found his voice. The voice she unknowingly helped him find.

"Gwyn, I'm sorry -- please wait." She paused, hesitating as her eyes met his. Azriel did not know what to say. He was incapable of saying anything but "sorry", that word so pathetic and useless. Sorry was not enough when Rhys was captured by Amarantha. Sorry was not enough when Feyre was forced to sacrifice herself for their -- for his sake. Sorry was not enough when Elain was taken away by the Cauldron in the middle of the night.

Sorry had never been enough and never would be. Azriel was a stupid, foolish idiot.

"Azriel." Gwyn spoke his name softly. He tore himself away from his useless thoughts and looked at her.

She... did not look upset. She did not look angry, nor sad, nor frustrated. Instead, understanding lay in those warm teal eyes.

"I'm not pushing you to share about yourself. You are not obliged to just because I rambled on about my thoughts." Gwyn's eyes were indeed filled with apology and remorse though she had a small smile.

"You will always be my friend. And I will wait for you, even if the day you want to share about yourself never comes. Because I know you will do the same for me."

Somehow, in that moment when even time seemed to have held its breath, when even the Mother seemed to be watching, Azriel felt something in him shifted. In the distant, he could have sworn a phoenix's song filled his veins, a song of smothered flames and shadows.

"Besides, I think the silent, brooding type fits you better than Cassian's I-wrecked-one-tiny-unimportant-useless-building hotheadedness." Gwyn teased.

The distant calling seemed to grow louder, and Azriel could have sworn --

He could have sworn that a faraway glow beckoned him. And his shadows were more restless than ever, nearly tearing away from their master in their excitement.

So when Gwyn grinned at him, he smiled back.

The stars twinkling overhead seemed to beam back too. For the first time in a long while, Azriel felt contented. It was a feeling he had not experienced since... Since solstice. And back then he was with Gwyn, too, he realized abruptly. It was this female before him who had brought him not once, but twice such longed-for peace and quiet.

Gwyn was wrong. It was not his shadows who were beautiful.

It was her.

It was the Valkyrie who had walked beside Death -- and never cowered.

Never feared, never faltered.

Gwyneth Berdara was a secret, lovely beauty.

Sorry for any grammatical errors (or just errors in general) since I’m writing on my own right now. Thanks for reading and stay tune for part 2 <3

Updated comment: Hi guys, so I added a new bit about Azriel’s reaction. I was planning out the whole story so it’s taking a while and I’m sorry about the wait. I’m nearly done with planning things out chapter-by-chapter so part 2 is on its way. Thank you for staying with me 

xoxo

Dawn ~

[pagingevilspawn]

Hey my request is about Alex who returns to Seatle and finds out about Jo and Jackson's relationship

i had all and then most of you (some and now none of you)

wc: 1.4k

pairing: Jo Wilson/Alex Karev (past), Meredith Grey & Alex Karev (gen), and mentions of Jo Wilson/Jackson Avery.

summary: during a late night phone call, alex learns that jo is well and truly no longer his.

rating: general audiences.

category: angst.

warnings: angst, no happy ending.

AN: again, this is pretty short, but i wrote it in two hours, so.... it's not quite what you asked for anon, but i tried to keep it relatively canon compliant, since here (as you can tell) Meredith didn't get covid.

_____

The silence in the house seemed alarming to him, not used to the lack of commotion that usually echoed throughout the halls. Izzie was finishing up on a shift and wouldn’t be home for a while, and the twins were tucked into bed, leaving the only sound in the home to be the low, steady humming of a sitcom rerun on the TV.

The appeal drained after a while, and he eventually grew tired of laughter from the audience after nearly every line spoken. Mindless chatter was all it was and all it seemed to be.

Alex sighed, leaning into the couch’s cushions and pulling out his phone, dialing Meredith’s number once he saw that he had missed her call only minutes before. He waits a few seconds, the droning of the beeps making him anxious for a reason he couldn’t place. Eventually, Meredith picks up, her voice slightly out of breath, which he only assumes could come from finishing a long day of work.

“Alex! How are you?”

He gets up from his place on the couch, taking his conversation onto the front porch, settling onto the swing that hung in the corner. “I’m good Mer, I’m good,” he says, directing his gaze to the end of the road, where a car went by, headlights being one of the only forms of light besides the dim street lamps.

“How are the kids?” he asks, feeling a sense of nostalgia at the fact that he hadn’t seen his niece or nephews in months. He missed them, more than he would admit. He had been there for everything, everything graduation, every dance, every school play, he had been there.

But he had his own kids to tend to now, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

(not trade, but make some changes. he lost that opportunity a long time ago though)

“They’re good. Zola is driving Bailey crazy with how much she’s correcting his homework, when all he wants to do is go play on his XBox. Ellis is hating distance learning, complaining that all she wants to do is see her friends, but what else is new. Zola loves it, not surprisingly. She thinks school is even easier than it was before, the only part she misses is talking to her friends, but she calls them and everything, so she doesn't see too much harm. She’s started staying after class to help other kids with her teachers. Amelia and I have been teasing her non-stop about being a kiss-up, but she loves it. If she decides to switch careers I wouldn't doubt that she would be a teacher,” she says, and he can hear the car door slam shut and the rumble of the car's engine coming to life.

He laughs softly, “We both know that that’s not gonna happen. Zo would rather get into a bear fight before giving up on being a surgeon.”

Meredith hums, “That’s true. The thought of being anything else almost is offensive to her,” she laughs. “The other day I made an offhand comment about a lawyer being a fun career for her because of how much she loves to argue, and she went into a five minute lecture on why she was going to be a neurosurgeon.”

Alex smiles, practically able to see the image of Zola telling her mom off for suggesting she be anything other than a surgeon. “That sounds about right. I learned that lesson a long time ago.”

There are a couple of beats of silence, the only thing he can hear is the crickets chirping in the distance and the faint sounds of cars racing around in the background.

“They miss you, you know,” Meredith finally speaks, her tone dropping slightly to let him know how sincere her words were.

He lets out a heavy breath, “I miss them too Mer,” the crickets continue their noise, and images of what his life used to be seem to filter through his mind. An endless loop, dancing in his head of a life he once used to live, but could no longer say he knew.

“Well,” she breaks him away from his thoughts, “When all this is over, you’re due for a visit, okay?”

He nods, even though she can’t see him. “Long overdue,” he agrees. “So, what’s been going on over at Seattle Grace Mercy Death?”

She fills him in on the latest events of the hospital, how everyone was adjusting to their new realities, the newest batch of interns, and patients that had stuck out more than others.

It was a funny thing that he didn’t realize until a while ago, somehow patients at Grey-Sloan had stuck with him more than the ones where he currently was.

“And Jo—” she starts, but cuts herself off, piquing his interest. Jo hadn’t come up in any other of their conversations, for reasons that didn’t really need to be said aloud.

He bites the inside of his cheek, releasing and giving himself the courage to finally ask about her. She never left his mind, so he couldn’t see the harm in asking about her —an opportunity to clear the part of his brain that was on a constant track of her if he was able to know how she was.

“It’s fine Mer, you can talk about her,” he says, running a hand through his hair.

He can hear her sigh, and can practically imagine the head shake she is giving him right then “Not about this, Alex.”

He perks up immediately, “Is she okay? I need you to tell me if she’s not okay Mer,” he demanded, his voice firm, only a trace of worry present if anyone were to listen closely.

(he felt like Elsa, conceal don’t feel)

“What? No,” she scoffs. “Jo’s fine, though I don’t really think you have the right to care about how she is anymore Alex, considering you’re the one that left her,” she scolds him, and he can hear the disappointment in her voice, no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

He lets out a heavy breath, trying to fight back the urge to explain himself to her, which would end up in a loud argument of why he shouldn’t have done what he had. He’d had it before, and each time it sent him to bed with all the what if’s playing out in the forefront of his mind.

Except he didn’t live a life of what if’s, he was living a life of right now.

“I know Mer,” he can hear the heaviness in his words, and she must too, since she relents her lecture on him, and he knows that it’ll just come up at another time.

“She’s sleeping with Jackson,” she says it so casually that he almost thinks that she’s joking, but realizes that she’s not when she stays silent.

“...Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He can feel the tenseness of the air, even though they are thousands of miles apart. He clears his throat after a few minutes have passed. “Are they together, or…?” he trails off, unsure of how he’s supposed to feel.

He left her. He left her. He left her. He wants to say that he’s upset that she’s already moved on, but there he was, sleeping in the same bed as his ex-wife and raising their children together, all while they were still married. He couldn’t really have an opinion, because he was the one who ended their relationship in the most cowardly way possible, through a letter sent in the mail, not even giving her the courtesy to tell her the truth to her face.

“No, they’re doing a friends with benefits sort of thing.”

He nods, trying to think of something to say. “Is she happy?” he settles on.

“Not like she once was, but I think she’s getting back there.”

The ache in his heart grows a bit more, because some selfish part of him wants her to only be able to be happy with him, as unfair and cruel as it is. But he smiles bitterly, and the larger part of him is happy for her, happy that she is finally able to have someone make her laugh and smile again.

The sight of headlights coming up the driveway breaks him away from his own mind, and he knows this conversation will have to be finished at another time.

“You did this to yourself Alex,” she says, as if she knows exactly what he’s thinking.

“I know.”

They both hang up, and he greets Izzie with a smile and a kiss on the cheek, wishing that the woman he was curled up on the couch with was someone else.

But it wasn’t, because he made his choice, and now he had to face the reality of a life he chose to live.

[1528-miles-away]

It's been like seven years since I even looked at this feed. It's crazy how time flies and how people change. Or, more accurately, how your perceptions of people change. We were nineteen when we got married, and even then I knew that it was a mistake, but I thought that I could change how I felt. I thought that loving you hard enough would make up for all the faults. But time went on, and you showed your true self. You were lazy, selfish, manipulative, and a relentless gossip. You refused to take care of yourself, so I had to pick up the slack. I bent over backwards for you for years. I drove you to and from work every day, sacrificing sleep and social time to do so. I made every meal, cleaned up every mess, took care of every animal that you adopted despite my continued protestation. I listened to every bit of drivel and gossip about your co-workers, friends, and Facebook groups. I took you to the hospital and stayed with you for hours every time you landed yourself there through your complete and unending negligence of your own health.

And yet I was the bad guy? Because I had a short temper from constantly holding back what I really wanted to say? Because I was stoned all the time to hide from my feelings? Because I dove deeper and deeper into my role-playing group because it was the only escape I had from my hellish reality? I will be the first to admit that none of those were healthy coping mechanisms, but I saw no other way out. I had no home to return to, no support systems, no idea how to live life without you. So I carried on, despite your complete lack of Independence, despite you planning out our whole lives, children and all, without actually giving a shit what I thought.

And don't even get me started on kids. The fact that you kept your pregnancy and miscarriage a secret from me for nearly a year was cowardly and wrong. You robbed me of the chance to grieve, and you shattered my trust, though I wouldn't realize that until much later. How was I supposed to feel? I was fucking 19 years old. I didn't want a kid, and you knew that. But rather than tell me when it happened and giving me the chance to understand the situation and feel my emotions as they came, you dropped a bomb on me. When you told me you lost Jamie, my first reaction wasn't sadness, it was relief. But how could I possibly say that to you when you were so devastated? So what did I do? I swallowed that and gave you the support I thought you needed. And boy fucking howdy did you milk that for every single drop it was worth. I get that you wanted kids, and a miscarriage is a trauma that I will never understand as a man. But maybe you could have dealt with it better if you had any sort of ambition or goal in your life than pumping out a baby that you would have inevitably neglected and foisted responsibility onto me, just like all your pets.

And how did it all end? Did we find a way to see that we had lost where we started and didn't have the love for each other that we thought we had? Was there anything in those last months that wasn't a fucking travesty? No. You fucked my best friend -on Christmas Eve - and didn't tell me until we'd spent all of Christmas Day with your family, playing the happy couple we always were. Then, even better, you say you want an open relationship! Oh, wait, no, you opened with that! You fucked him, pretended like nothing happened, and came to ask my permission for something you already fucking did?? Fuck you. You absolute fucking coward. And then after everything crumbled and I asked you why you did it, you told me it was a "cry for help." Bullshit. A cry for help would have been talking to me. Sacking up and telling me that you don't want to be with me anymore. And I would have said the same. We hated each other for so long. We could have ended this in a way that traumatized neither of us. But that's not how it happened. And on the off chance that you see this one day, I am sorry for what I did that night. I have no excuse and I still regret it. Regardless of everything that happened, you didn't deserve that.

But I'll tell you what. Despite all the pain, despite all the resentment, despite all the lost friendships and the lost family, I'm glad things happened the way they did. I learned a lot about myself through all of this. I learned what I want and don't want, what I will and will not tolerate; I learned how to be happy with being alone, and how to recognize my codependent tendencies; I rediscovered my love for music, and I've found a life that Phil in 2019 could only have dreamt of. I have friends who see me and love me for who I am. I have a girlfriend who treats me like an actual person and not a slave. I have a band that I'm going to take over the damn world with. And I have a self image that I've lacked my whole life. I know myself, and I have to thank you for that. I only hope that you have grown as much as I have. I may never know if you have, and I'm fine with that. Seeing your face makes me nauseous, as I'm sure mine does to you. So please, live your best life. Have those kids you've always wanted. Raise them well. You deserve to live a better life than you had with me. I don't resent you anymore. I just want you to be as happy as I am.

And I know that last paragraph seems pretty phony after the novel I just wrote, but that was just the story from my point of view, with the feelings I had at the time. Like I said, I don't hate you. I just don't think about you much. And I'm much better for it.

Anyways, this has gone on far too long. I'm sorry to anybody who actually read through this shit. It's pretty rambly. I just had a lot of things come up when I found this blog again. This will probably be the last thing that ever shows up on this blog anyway, so yeah. Bye I guess.