#I’m stressing so hard that I’m making backwards progress in where I wanted to be this year

[theiceandbones]

Thank god for evenings that let you slip into bed early

[ruminate88]

Letting yourself rest and take a break ❤️‍🩹

In this bizarre “healing journey” that I never planned for, thought existed or wanted it to be like this but I’ve sorta had to roll with it. Cognitive dissonance and ruminating have tried to hold me hostage within my mind. Keeping me ping-ponging between thoughts of my past and my ex, Andrew. Is he or isn’t he toxic? Was the whole relationship a lie or not? Did he like me at all or was it truly superficial and about my nudes???

There has been moments I feel crazy sad over him, moments where it’s painful and I almost wanna hide in a hole alone somewhere and then moments where I feel absolutely nothing!! Everywhere I read, it says forgiveness is a process and that so is this “healing journey”. That it all takes time and sometimes you have to take a break and direct your focus on other things… Something I’ve struggled to do because I feel this is all taking too long and I feel so guilty for not just magically getting over the past and letting it all go. Ugh

Remember the tortuous and the hair? The rabbit rushed to win the race, while the turtle was slow and steady…. Ultimately, the rabbit ran out of gas faster and the turtle crossed the finish line with flying colors!! Which one do I want to end up being? Yeah, I feel like life is so short and I don’t wanna waste another second questioning Andrew and dissecting him. Tired of feeling like I go in circles from: sad, angry, numb, etc…. I just want it all to end but what if I’m making more progress than I think?

These past couple months my energy level as plummeted and I beat myself up so bad. Stressing about how little work I’m getting done, how I’m letting things pile up and how I’m just wanting to be left alone. Dreading having places to go but yet when I actually get to these places and see family members, it actually perks me up but soon as I come back home, I wanna do nothing …. 😝❤️‍🩹 This past week I told myself “You have to rest if you went to get better.” And I mean it but I can’t put all this pressure on myself because my stomach can’t handle more stress 💀

In taking time to myself, I’ve felt selfish and guilty. I’ve ALWAYS put other’s needs before mine most of my life. I’ve always cared about everyone else but neglected me because it’s painful. I went from taking care of my grandma who had dementia, to raising my bro’s kids (also babysat for a lot of other families over the years) AND during that time I’m texting all these emotionally abusive men who spun their web of lies in text messages to me. Critical of me in every area of my life. Downplaying my mental health and treating me as if I’m just a beautiful shell with no soul or feelings. Talking dirty to me and abusing my nudes.

Then after that, I jump into marriage with a nice guy who wants to provide for me financially and so I’m stuck in the same old pattern. I bend over backwards to take care of my husband… cook for him, clean for him, make sure he’s happy but I’m still ignoring my own needs as putting myself down. My exes put me down so long that I have believed I’m not worth much. I see this all now.

Idk how hard it is going to be to “take a break” but I think it would be healthy if I could write about other things for a while and even be a little selfish. After all, I have to get a tooth pulled soon and I’m not gonna feel like doing much anyway but there’s gonna be so much going on the next few weekends, I’m already beating myself up like “you have to do A, B & C”…. Plus the consistent thoughts of Andrew that have never went away since the day I met him. I almost think my brain is just been trying to make sense of him but it’s exhausting. Either that, or my brain needs closure or there’s something deeper going on I’ve yet to figure out.

I’ve been able to open up a little bit to my mom-in-law and that’s been both helpful and terrifying. I don’t believe she judges me but I was worried she was gonna misunderstand me “ruminating” and think I don’t love her son… 🥴😩 I didn’t have the guts to tell her that I want to fully embrace and trust her son cuz I mean all these years and he seems genuine but the problem is me. Struggling to get over the past and letting go of guilt and self blame. Thinking I have this failed past. In actuality, my past is teaching me and making me stronger but it’s incredibly painful. Who knew it would all suck this much but what if one day I wake up and I’m a better person and have a deeper understanding of life and love? That would be so cool ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

However, nothing changes over night 🤡 One…….. DAY…… At a TIME 💀❤️‍🩹🔥 Don’t quit and keep going. I’m not the only one who has been through this. Some people have it worse than me I’m sure but not to downplay my experience but to toughen up yet 👍🏻 Resting and no longer putting my own needs off. I can’t keep showing up for people if I lose myself because I refused to heal or get better. ❤️‍🩹 😓 so freakin painful but beauty is pain!!!

[saltyruinshideout]

So, I achieved one hundred posts finally…yeehah! Quite a terrific thing to have gotten. This blogging thing is still kinda new in some ways. On my other platforms I just put on pictures I’ve taken over the span of my week, here is more or less like my older, extinct form from Xanga. If anyone seemingly remembers that site, it was a hot site to get noticed on and got a lotta likes and commentary on from people from all over the world. It was my favourite one to write on. I got such a high rating from my entries that I got noted by a tech site who were reading every nuance every week. It was a lotta hard work every other day to relate stuff going on but I kept it up. Eventually though, a bad apple took over the commentary and set things backwards to the point I got extremely discouraged to write altogether. In short order I had to shut my site down altogether due to the stress it was causing me. The tech guys were not happy and wrote up how they were truly going to miss my weekly titles. Xanga eventually crashed and burned entirely and the technology format birthed new sites in its wake. I tried other sites but they were not entirely successful as Xanga was. Time flies though and I got hooked on this site which seems to be a nice touch. I see the odd compliment from readers who like me, so that’s a plus. If you really want to encourage me to keep going, drop me a written letter in the mail. I know a lotta folks have other forms of correspondence in this day and age, but I’m an old fashion type who appreciates peoples pensmenship. My grandmother used to give me sets of, what’s that stuff called?. Oh yeah, now I recall, stationary!! Pretty papers with envelopes included. Where I live, things have changed so much. There used to be a convenience store downtown that sold magazines. Retirement killed that business. You can’t find any magazines anywhere now. Lots of changes but really, in a village of only a thousand souls, nothing has progressed far. You gotta do your own thing or make it up as you go along and hope nobody Killy your momentum. So I’d best stop for now. If you want to correspond with me, drop me a hint and I’ll forward my address to you individually. Be good to each other, and hug your elders. They carry infinite wisdoms in their souls. Till next time…🏜

[gaysimpsstuff]

Addidentally Injuring Their S/o

Part Two Here

YT Video Here (thanks @vanillaicedlatte-yt)

Genre: a n g s t

Type: Drabble/ Headcannons

Summary: in the heat of an arguement, after a battle, etc., they activate their quirk and Y/n somewhat permanently.

Warnings: gore, blood, fighting/ cursing, crying, burns, toxic relationships, 290 spoilers, endeavor

Other: This was meant to come out yesterday, but shitty mental health got in the way, so yeet. Also, I’m sorry these get worse and worse as they progress, that’s usually how things go for me. This was also inspired by a Tik Tok that I can’t find where Shigaraki accidentally dusts y/n who’s trying to comfort him. It was a Cosplay, if anyone can find it please let me know so I can link it and credit the creator.

Characters: Shigaraki, Dabi, Bakugou, Todoroki

Angst Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy (let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the taglist)

Tomura Shigaraki

It had started as a great day, a perfect day even. Everyone was listening to him, the league was getting news coverage, people were afraid.

Everything was too perfect.

Something was going to go wrong, he was sure of it.

He hated the way everyone was laughing and joking together, Toga helping Magne do her nails, Spinner playing video games with Twice backstage, and you were chatting with Dabi and Compress about the league’s next moves.

Kuroguri was off doing something or other, and he’d mentioned another ‘follower of All For One.’

But something felt off.

And of course you would notice him.

You were hiding at an abandoned theatre, and he was sitting on the edge of the stage, staring out at the empty audience.

You were with Dabi and Compress in the wings, and glanced away from them towards your boyfriend.

He seemed stressed, scratching at his neck vigorously. You sighed, standing up and heading over to him, sitting beside him.

You placed your hand on top of his spare hand, offering him a soft smile.’

“Hey, baby~” you cooed. “How’s my boyfriend doing?”

He grumbled, yanking his hand away from you. Your theory was correct, he was stressed about something.

He didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially not you. You always tried to comfort him and convince him everything was ‘okay’ even when it wasn’t.

“Go away.” He growled. “I’m trying to think.”

“Thinking about what?” You asked, scooching closer to him.

“None of your fucking business!” He snapped at you, and you flinched away from him.

“Tomura, I was just trying to help-“ you frowned at him. He could be immature and bratty at times he’s, but he usually made sure not to get that way with you.

“I don’t give a shit! I don’t need your damn help!” He stood up, marching over to the wings to head backstage. You followed suit.

Compress and Dabi quickly rushed off the stage when they saw Shigaraki heading towards them. Dabi stopped for a moment next to you, looking at you.

“Good luck with him.” He said, jerking his head towards Shigaraki. You shrugged at him.

Shigaraki overheard Dabi’s notion, anger and distress intensifying. Good luck? Good luck?! What the hell was wrong with him?

Dabi and Compres joined Toga and Magne in the red velvet chairs, Compress requesting that he gets his nails done in orange and black when she finished with Magne’s.

Shigaraki pushed aside the large heavy curtains blocking his way backstage, finding Spinner and Twice huddled near a small TV, an old PvP game loading onscreen

They both looked over their shoulders, staring up at their boss. You quickly darted backstage, crouching next to the ‘gamer boiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis’ as they had nicknamed themselves.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered to them. “He’s in a bit of a mood. I’ll take care of it, okay?”

Did he hear you correctly?

A mood?

You’ll ‘take care of it?’

Of it?

What.

The.

Fuck.

“Say that again, to my fuckung face!” Shigaraki screamed at you. “Tell me I’m just ‘iN a MoOd’ again!!”

You turned to him, eyes wide and scared.

“I’m sorry, Tomura, I didn’t mean it like that- I just didn’t want our friends to worry!”

“They aren’t our fucking friends! They just work for us- they work for me!” He corrected himself.

You stood up, flicking your wrist to motion for Twice and Spinner to leave. They quickly turned off their game and rushed away.

“You might not consider them our friends, but they’re certainly my friends. And I won’t let you scare my friends.” You stood your ground, taking a step towards him.

He scoffed, turning around and marching back onstage. You sighed, following after him, again.

“Please, Tomura talk to me. I’m your partner I want to help you!” You exclaimed. “You’re worrying me, please!”

“Well I don’t want to fucking talk!” He shouted, “and I don’t have to!”

“Please, Tenko!”

“THAT’S NOT MY NAME!”

Red.

He saw red.

His hand flew away from him before he could stop himself, a target missile. It’s destination? Your face.

You lifted your hands instinctively, and he grabbed your wrist, fingers curling around your skin.

In that moment, all he felt was relief. Thank fucking god you’d lifted your arms. It was the one thing that has saved you from him.

You screamed, pain shooting up through you from your arm. Your skin peeled, falling away in tiny fragments of dust.

The dust fell around his fingers, your hand and wrist were completely gone now.

You felt someone pull you backwards, and you saw a glint of silver as Toga quickly severed your arm, blood spilling onto the floor of the stage where the pile of dust that used to be your arm lay.

You fell to your knees, screaming, reaching up and clutching at your elbow- the point of separation- desperately, trying to will your arm back into existence.

“TOMURA!” You shrieked, tears falling down your cheeks. “TOMURA! FIX IT!!”

It was hopeless, you knew there was no way for him to un-dust you. You fell forward, forehead pressed against the floor.

Shigaraki took a step back, glancing at his hand. There were a few speckles of dust resting on his palm. His breath quickened, eyes widening as he cupped his other hand over his mouth.

He stared down at you, Blood staining your shirt as you screamed and cried.

It must have hurt.

He remembered the promise he’d made after you’d started dating, when he’d protected you from some assholes trying to mug you.

“I promise you, I’m going to protect you. Nothing, no one, will lay a hand on you ever again.”

It was a promised meant against anyone who posed a threat to you.

He never meant to become a threat himself.

Touya Todoroki/ Dabi

Some days were always going to be better than others, that’s simply how it works when you’re recovering from trauma.

Today was one of the bad days.

He’d woken up with a thick, heavy, dark feeling in his chest.

He wasn’t even comforted by the warmth your body produced next to him.

Most days he’d roll over and wrap his arm around your body, pulling you close to his body to cuddle you.

This morning however, Dabi rolled away from you and climbed out of bed. You looked over your shoulder at him, confused and slightly hurt. Did you do something to make him upset last night?

You followed after your angsty boyfriend, walking out of the bedroom and down the hall into the kitchen.

He crashed at your apartment a lot, being a villain it was hard to get his own home. You didn’t know where he stayed when he wasn’t at your place.

He grabbed a box of cereal out of the cupboards, pouring himself a bowl. You pulled the milk out of the fridge, handing it to him with a smile.

He scrunched up his nose at your kindness, snatching the carton from your hand and angrily pulling the cap off.

You sighed, nervously pouring yourself a bowl as Dabi started to eat. He didn’t even bother to sit at the table.

“Hey, babe? You okay? You seem kind of... off today.”

Your boyfriend glanced down at you, cerulean eyes seemingly staring right through you.

“M’fine.” He grunted. Your frown tightened.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t believe that.” You shook your head at him.

Dabi glared down at you in annoyance. His scowl deepening. You took a step back, concerned and scared.

“Dabi, please talk to me.” You pleaded with him.

“Uzéndayo.” He grumbled angrily. “Fuck off.”

“Please, you’ll hurt my feelings.” You scoffed sarcastically. “You can talk to me, y’know.”

“Don’t fuckin need to. Leave me alone.”

“Dabi, this is my place. I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Then I’ll leave!” He snapped, brushing past you and leaving his cereal on the counter to sog.

He snatched his jacket off the back of the couch, shrugging it onto his shoulders.

“Seriously, Dabi! What the hell’s going on! Did I do something wrong?”

It pissed him off further to hear you blame yourself. You always thought it was your fault, but it never was.

“Oh shut the fuck up for once! Quit thinking it’s all about you! It’s not always about you!”

“Dabi just fucking talk to me! I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what’s wrong!”

You stepped in front of the door, flinging your arms open to block ilhis exit. He looked you in the eyes, seething.

“Nothing happened!” He shouted “Sometimes I’m just angry for no reason! Get out of my way and I’ll take my anger out on some rando and not on you. Then I’ll come back and we can pretend this never happened.”

“Dabi I won’t let you just kill some innocent person because you’re upset! Just sit with me and we can talk it out and-“

“That’s always your solution! Quit being a wimpy pacifist and move!”

“I’m not a pacifist, I just don’t think you should kill without reason!”

“Well I have a fucking reason!”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to!”

“That’s not a reason!”

“Just get out of my fucking way or I’ll make you!”

“Dabi, just talk to me!”

It was the last thing you said before he grabbed your arm and pulled your body forward to meet his. Your chest pressed against his, his face right in front of yours.

It’d be hot if you weren’t so scared.

“Listen here you little shit,” he growled, low and angry “I’m stronger than you in every fucking way.”

“Dabi?”

“I could kill you in an instant if I so desired.”

“Dabi-“

“Incinerate your filthy annoying ass any day I want, so be fucking grateful for once and watch your damn mouth!”

“Dabi!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN! I am superior to you in every way, you should be grateful I even share oxygen with you!”

“DABI YOU’RE HURTING ME!”

“I DON’T CARE IF IT HURTS, LISTEN TO ME YOU DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER!” He screamed in your face, eyes wild with unchecked rage.

Tears flowed down your face as you sobbed, indescribable pain was shooting up through your arms.

Dabi’s eyes finally drifted downwards, and he froze, mouth falling slack.

Smoke was billowing off his hands, and his knuckles were white with how hard he was gripping you.

He snapped his hands away from you, curling them into his body as his eyes widened. He took a few steps back.

There were black scorch marks on your body in the shape of his hands. They looked real bad.

“Get out.” You whispered, so soft he couldn’t hear.

“W-what?”

“GET OUT!” You screamed, pointing at the door despite the intense pain in your arms. “GET OUT OR I’M CALLING THE POLICE!”

“B-baby I’m sorry!” He shouted “I didn’t mean to, I promise!”

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOME BEFORE I TURN YOU IN!”

Dabi stumbled past you, quickly rushing out of your apartment and shutting the door behind him.

His back was pressed against the wood as he slid down, covering his face as he listened to your sobs on the other side, hearing your footsteps fade into the bathroom, probably to run cold water on your skin.

For a moment, all the could think about was the cereal on the counter, getting soggy.

“Fuck.” He muttered, eyes burning as they tried to produce tears without his tear ducts.

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

Shoto Todoroki

Shit wrong emo scar boy with daddy issues, fire powers, and an evil older sibling with blue fire

There we go

It was a shitty day. 

Well, most days were shitty days, but today was shittier than usual. 

A home visit, Endeavor trying to act like he was ‘upset about everything that happened,’ and pretending he was the victim in the situation.

It would be enough to set anyone on edge, especially Shouto. 

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he returned to the dorms with a deep frown on his face.

Even when Midoriya, Iida, and Uraraka tried to talk to him, he still seemed angry the whole time. There was really only one thing that should be able to cheer him up. Let’s hope you do your job well.

“Knock knock~ Shouto it’s me!” you stood on the outside of Shouto’s dorm. You knew Shouto must be stressed, so you’d gotten him some brownies from the sweets cupboard, Sato’s locks were easy to pick.

“I don’t want to fucking talk.” his response was blunt, clearly annoyed that you’d bothered his brooding. “Go away.”

You sighed, he could act like such a child sometimes!

“Shouto, I just want to cheer you up! Let me in, babe.” a moment later, he swung the door open, am annoyed glare on his face. You smiled sweetly at him, handing him the plate of brownies. His hands remained in his pockets, glancing down at the brownies then back up at you.

“Um... can I come in?” you asked quietly. He shrugged, stepping aside to let you in. You stepped past him, sitting on the edge of the platform bed, setting the brownies on the nightstand. 

Shouto closed the door behind him, turning to face you.

“Do... do you want to talk about it?” Shouto huffed, shaking his head and looking away from you.

“Do I look like I want to talk?” he snapped. You flinched, his tone was harsh.

“Shouto I just want to help, you don’t need to be rude.”

“I don’t give a shit if I’m being ‘rude.’“ He growled, arms crossed. 

His eyes stared coldly at you. Yeah, he was definetly upset.

“That’s okay, we can chat about something else. Oh, Sato probably needs to change the lock on the sweets cupboard, I kinda broke it getting you these brownies!” you looked up at him, smile faltering as he looked down his nose at you. “Are... are you mad at me?”

“Wow, you just noticed that.” he rolled his eyes. “I told you to go away but you didn’t.”

“I-I’m sorry, I was just really worried about you. You’re my boyfriend and I love you, I don’t like seeing you upset.”

“Then maybe you should try fucking listening to me for once. If I don’t want to talk, then you can’t make me talk.” You nodded, apologizing again.

“Oh my god shut the fuck up!” he shouted. “You’re always talking, always apologizing, you’re getting on my fucking nerves!”

“Okay!” you stood up quickly, lifting your hands defensively. “I’ll just leave!”

You brushed past him on your way to the door, hesitating on the handle. You glanced over your shoulder at him.

“Would you fucking stop with the pity?” you looked at the ground, not saying anything.

You heard the slap before you felt it.

The sting shot through your face, and you could hear Shouto shouting at you, but it was muffled. You didn’t know what he was saying. 

You lifted your hand to your cheek, hissing in pain. He didn’t just slap you,

He used his fire.

You choked on your words, turning to look at your boyfriend with tear-filled eyes.

Shouto was looking at you with a look of sheer horror on his face.

“I’m sorry...” you whimpered. “I’m going-” you slipped out the door, ignoring Shouto’s shout for you to turn back and talk to him

That it was an accident.

That he didn’t mean it.

That didn’t matter.

Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight

Fuck Icy-Hot. 

Fuck. Him.

He said he’d gotten stronger since the Summer Camp, but he hadn’t at all.

He was still loosing to Todoroki, and no matter how hard he was working, he still kept loosing to him.

His hand was buried in his hair, tugging harshly every so often as he listened to you ramble about something that happened during your work study.

Even you were getting ahead of him, his own partner was getting stronger than him. He’d promised he’d protect you, but that would be useless if you kept improving faster than him.

“Then afterwords, FatGum took me, Kirishima, and Amajiki to this resturaunt, and the owner turned out to be a huge fan of FatGum, she gave us free desert! Oh my gosh the cake was so good!” you exclaimed, laughing a little.

Bakugou grumbled under his breath a little, keeping his eyes away from your estatic face. 

“Great.” you glanced back to your boyfriend from where you sat at your desk, eyebrows furroring. Usually, Katsuki would give you one of those proud smirks all like ‘that’s my partner,’ but today he seemed upset.

“You alright, Katsuki? Was your provisional licence class stressful today?” you asked sympathetically, moving your hand towards him to comfort him. 

He yanked his hand away from you, shooting you a pissed off look.

“Fuck no.” he growled. “Even if it was, I can handle it. I don’t need your damn help.” you rested your hand on your lap.

“I know, Katsuki. My boyfriend’s so strong!” you smiled brightly at him. Usually complimenting him would make him feel better, but today it seemed to only piss him off more.

“Shut up.” he hunched over, curling into himself more. He pulled one leg up to his chest, holding it under his knee. 

“Uh.. are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, cocking your head to the side gently.

“I’m fucking fine!” He snapped, keeping his eyes anywhere but on you. “I don’t need your pity!”

“Pity? Katsuki I’m not pitying you, I’m worried for you. You’re my boyfriend and I want you to be happy so-”

“Didn’t I say to shut up?” he stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t give me your worry, fight me instead!”

“Why the hell would I fight you, Katsuki? I already know you’re stronger than me!”

“Fucking how? You got that new work study you’re constantntly talking about! How haven’t you gotten stronger than me?”

“Is that what this is about? I’ve only been at my work study for a few days, how in the world could I have leaped leagues in that amount of time to reach your level?”

“Then why even join that stupid work study if you’re not getting stronger?”

“I am getting stronger, just not fast enough to be at your level that quickly!” you explained. “Sorry?”

“Ugh just shut the fuck up!” he shouted, storming out of your dorm and down the hall to the common room. There were a only a few people in there,

Yao-Momo and Jirou in the kitchen, Kirishima and Kaminari on the couches, and Sero was leaning over the back of the couch. They all looked up when Bakugou stormed in with you on his tail.

“Katsuki, you’re confusing me! What’s going on? How can I help? Is it something I did?” 

“Just leave me alone, okay? Go away!” he shouted over his shoulder. Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero, Jirou, and Yaoyorazu all snapped their heads towards you and Bakugou.

“Katsuki, please! You’re scaring me!” you glanced over at your friends, Jirou and Yao-Momo glancing between each other and muttering. 

“Yo, Kachan, the hell’s going on between you and Y/n?” Kaminari asked, standing up. Sero hissed at him to sit down if he wanted to keep his head.

“I’m sorry, Kaminari, Bakugou’s upset and I don’t know why-”

“Don’t know why? Quit it with the lies! I hate liars!”

“I-I’m not lying! I really don’t know!” you reached forward, latching your hand onto his wrist. “Please just talk to me!”

“BULLSHIT!” he snapped his hand away from yours. “You’re a fucking liar!”

“Bakubro, calm down!” Kirishima stood up, briskly walking over to the two of you. 

“STAY OUT OF THIS!” Bakugou slammed his palm against Kirishima’s face, setting off a small explosion.

“KIRISHIMA!” You ran to his side as the smoke cleared, finding his face hardened.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” he assured you. He offered you a small smile, suddenly, he yelped and ducked, avoiding another hit from Bakugou.

“LET GO OF THEM!” he shouted, and his hand sparked twice before setting off again. This time right next to your face.

You hit the ground first, then felt stinging pain across your face and shoulder.

You didn’t even hear your own screaming because of the fact that he blew up your ears.

You didn’t register Kirishima picking you up, or Bakugou staring after you in fear, or the others in the room scolding Bakugou or worrying about you.

All you knew in that moment was pain.

Pure, white hot, agonizing pain.

[shingia]

hey babe!! i saw ur “dating suna hcs” and was wondering if you could write an oikawa version?? u dh to if u dw to btw :)) love ur writing!!

✗ DATING OIKAWA ✗

OMG THIS IS LONG OVERDUE IM SO SORRY <\33 tysmmm and another thank u for you patience hahaha

-> cw : one mention of food

-> reblogs help a lot <3

— EARLY RELATIONSHIP

• it was a gut feeling. being « just friends » with you was never an option for oikawa, and he let you know very quickly

• he never hid the fact that he was absolutely smitten, which is why you knew right from the start that his advances came from a place of pure honesty

• and he definitely lived up to your expectations once you started officially dating : his many promises about making you the happiest person on earth weren’t just empty words

• obviously his friends teased him for constantly bending over backwards for you, but he was never ashamed of it

• in other words, there wasn’t an « awkward » stage at the beginning of your relationship, because loving you was nothing new to him

• some people like to consider themselves someone’s soulmates, but oikawa would rather work hard to obtain someone’s love, which is why he’s glad that your relationship started with him pining for you

• and even though you were never left indifferent by his flirty behavior, it’s nice to have him think that you slowly fell for him because of his fierce game of seduction

— LOVE LANGUAGE

->| words of affirmation

• and i’m not just talking about his daily “i love you”s, whether it’s right after he wakes up or at the end of a phone call

• i’m talking about the way he is constantly rooting for you, even for the smallest things. sometimes you don’t even feel like you need to be encouraged for something, but he still does it

• your self esteem has never been so high because he celebrates each and every one of your achievements for several days (literally)

• but it never feels forced, because he’s not sugarcoating it at all : he’s genuinely super proud of you, and in fact he fears that you might not know how much

• however, his daily « i love you »s that i talked about before are also a big part of his love language

• of course it’s not always those three words. sometimes it’s a quick « i’m so lucky to have you » sent right before his practice starts, or a cheesy « i missed you » when you meet him in the kitchen after getting out of bed, where he’s already started making breakfast

— DATES

• you guys did everything on the cliché dates bucket list because he wanted to get these “out of the way” before surprising you with more unique ones

• candelit dinner in a fancy restaurant, flower field picnic, even the classic move of pretending to stretch at the movies in order to “subtly” wrap his arm around your shoulders : he’s done it all

• then, after a few months, he started to put a lot more reflexion into the preparation of his dates to make them as personalized as he could

• most of the time, he brings you a gift that he remember you briefly mentioning in a conversation a while ago

• during his morning runs, he likes to scout out future places to take you to. and he writes them down on his phone to make sure he won’t forget it by the time he gets home

• sometimes, if he’s not sure whether or not you’ll like it, he’ll send you a picture and wait for your approval

• but don’t worry, he keeps it a surprise 95% of the time. and yes he covers your eyes with his hands on your way there (like i said, he’s all about kinda cliché moves)

— CUDDLES

• some people are more fond of either hugs or kisses. oikawa loves both equally

• he thinks there’s something very intimate about kissing someone while hugging them - bonus point if you’re laying down on top of him, because he knows you don’t mind spending hours in this position

• and don’t even get me started on the amount of kisses he peppers on top of your head, always while holding you close with his arms around your shoulders

• he’s also a huge fan of eyelids and cheekbones kisses because he loves how it makes you giggle every time

• but, to him, cuddles are more than just displays of his love and affection for you : it’s the fastest and most effective way to calm his nerves after a stressful day

• and you can physically feel him relax under your touch because he progressively stops being all fidgety until he’s completely still in your embrace (and that’s usually when he falls asleep, for either a nap or the whole night)

• his spooning position really depends on the day, it’s about 50/50... but he enjoys being the little spoon a liiiittle bit more

— PDA

• he’ll adapt to your needs of course...

• ...but let’s just say that he wouldn’t mind walking down the streets while literally bear-hugging you

• also, he’s got hand kisses mastered to perfection

• because since he’s holding your hand 99% of the time, he needs something different for when he gets extra affectionate

• so that’s why he often brings your hand to his lips to kiss it’s back, or sometimes even your knuckles

• although he’s never really admitted it, he always does it when he thinks someone is getting a little too.. comfortable with you... (yes, he tends to forget that constantly holding your hand might give people a clue on the status of your relationship)

• he loves it when you mindlessly play with his hair on public, because you do it very naturally and it always warms his heart

• oh and- the kisses he gives you in public? OVER THE TOP. EVERY TIME. but he does it so well...

• yes, he will put an arm around your waist and kiss you with so much passion that you’ll have no choice but to lean back

• and then, just like he hasn’t given you a kiss worthy of the greatest romantic movies, he places a quick peck on your nose with a satisfied grin

— RANDOM HCS THAT GIVE ME LIFE

• you’re his custom navigation voice on his gps <3

• he sends you a lot of personality tests and he loves to compare your results with his

• when you’re at the grocery store, you push the cart together and try to lead the other to the aisles of your favorite snacks

• you both give takeru advice on love and relationships in general, and even though he doesn’t seem very convinced, he has to admit that you two are a pretty darn good example of what love must look like

• he put a picture of you inside his locker’s door, and he takes a few seconds to look at it before practice for a little energy and motivation boost

• he bought you a super fluffy blanket and, on days when he’s home without you, he carries it everywhere with him to make sure it’ll smell like him when you come back

• he bought you a puppy that he decided to call tooru; that way it’s like he’s still by your side when he has to travel for his games

TAGLIST : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @ughgojo @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @cubbluv @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @noir-blanches-blog @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac @ijustwantfreenetflix @miw0 @maitenight @xomiya @shoyotime @borealis-tristesse @succulentmom @akkeyomi @koifish69

[kpop-zone]

True North | Chuu

High School AU | exes | “I let you mooch off of my Netflix and this is how you repay me?” | “It’s just so hard not to fall in love with you.”

Genre: angsty

Wordcount: 1,870

As soon as you stepped foot into the classroom, you instantly felt like turning around and running away again. Of course, she was there. Laughing with people that she probably didn’t even know. But as the social butterfly that she was, she could charm every person on this planet in less than a second. Just like she had charmed you. You hated yourself for hating to see her this happy. You didn’t want to be that ex. But somehow you couldn’t bear to know that she was absolutely unfazed by your breakup while you were still looking through your pictures every night. Just when you were contemplating whether this was enough reason for you to drop this class, you could suddenly feel someone tapping your shoulder, so you turned around in confusion.

“Are you already tired of my class before the school year has even really started?”

Mr.Kim, your math teacher, asked with an amused expression on his face, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

“N-no of course not!”

You stuttered, feeling like he had just caught you redhanded. Embarrassed, you lowered your head and quickly entered the room to search for a vacant seat. What a great way to leave a good impression on the first day of school... Not wanting to make an even worse impression, you quickly rummaged through your backpack to fish out your calculator and your pencil case when you suddenly felt someone tapping your shoulder once more. Stressed out, you turned around, just to be met with the wide (and highly adorable) grin of your ex-girlfriend who waved excitedly at you from the seat right behind you. In an instant, your already bad mood got even worse, and you rolled your eyes before turning to the front again. You already knew that this would be your least favorite class throughout the whole school year. The rest of the week confirmed your suspicion as you were able to avoid your girlfriend wherever else you were going. You attended no other classes together and in the cafeteria you always made sure to pick a table at the opposite side from where she was sitting. It made it easier not to think about her all of the time which was why you had a stomachache right before your next math class on Monday. You knew that seeing her would demolish all progress in getting over her in the blink of an eye.

But to your surprise Jiwoo wasn’t entertaining the whole class yet when you entered the room later than usual after having given yourself a pep talk in front of the school for almost ten minutes. Her seat was still empty, making you hope that she had dropped the class for some inexplicable reason. Nervously, you wriggled about on your chair while staring at the clock on the wall incessantly. There were only a few more seconds left till the class would start. If she wasn’t here yet it had to mean that she would not show up anymore, relieving you of the burden to see her every week, right? To your dismay, however, your ex-girlfriend breathlessly stumbled into the classroom with two iced beverages in her hand right when the bell rang to indicate the start of the first period. Like the needle of compass always found north, her eyes immediately found yours, causing her face to light up in an instant.

With big steps she headed directly for you like she was on some sort of mission, making you get smaller and smaller in your seat. You couldn’t even stand seeing her without having the urge to fling your arms around her neck to beg her to take you back, you definitely weren’t strong enough to talk with her. For a split-second you thought about running away, but before you could make a decision, a high-pitched squeal catapulted you back to reality again. Jiwoo’s wide grin had suddenly turned into a horrified grimace, and you felt a cold shudder spreading from your chest to the rest of your body. Confused, you looked down on yourself, making you realize that one of the beverages that Jiwoo had proudly paraded around, had found its way onto your shirt.

“I’m so sorry!! I didn’t mean to. I stumbled over your backpack and somehow the cup slipped out of my hand.”

Jiwoo gasped, still frozen to the spot. Your initial shock quickly died down as the ice-cold liquid seeped through your clothes, managing to wake you up better than any warm coffee.

“Are you serious?? I let you mooch off of my Netflix and this is how you repay me?!”

You growled angrily, 100% certain that Jiwoo had dropped the beverage on you on purpose.

“No!!! It’s not like that! This was not on purpose.”

Your ex-girlfriend yelled in despair, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes that had always been able to make you forgive her for everything.

“I can fix this!”

From one second to the other, Jiwoo’s annoyingly contagious positivity was back and before you knew what was happening, you already felt yourself being pulled off your chair towards the door. Without granting you a voice, Jiwoo dragged you through the almost empty hallways of your school to -as you assumed- the restrooms. Instead of protesting against Jiwoo’s unsolicited decision, however, you were busy staring at her hand that was tightly gripping your wrist. As much as you fought it, you couldn’t suppress the tingling feeling in your stomach that the much longed for feeling of Jiwoo’s touch on your skin caused. While the two of you had been dating, there had barely been a moment when you hadn’t held hands. And after you had broken up, you sometimes felt like you were going through some sort of phantom pain because your hands felt so empty without hers to hold. Now everything finally felt in place again and you couldn’t help but to wish that Jiwoo would never let go. Unfortunately, however, everything had to come to an end eventually. And your daydreaming of a time when everything was still alright came to an abrupt halt when someone suddenly called your name.

“Y/N?”

With a jolt you snapped you out of your trance and realized that Jiwoo neither was holding your wrist anymore nor dragging you through the hallways. The two of you had already reached one of the restrooms of your school and she was staring at you expectantly like she was waiting for you to say something.

“W-what?”

You asked confused, only faintly being aware that Jiwoo had asked you a question.

“I asked whether it’s ok that I clean your shirt?”

She repeated herself although this was the first time that you actually understood what she had been saying. Still feeling like you weren’t able to form a coherent verbal response because your brain had run too hot, you simply nodded and Jiwoo softly started dabbing a wet paper towel on the giant brown stain on your shirt.

“Oh no, this is your favorite shirt even, isn’t it?”

Jiwoo whined when the stain didn’t vanish as she had hoped, but you couldn’t even care less about it anymore. She remembered what your favorite shirt was? You knew that you shouldn’t feel so flattered by this unimportant fact, but your heart didn’t seem to care about what your brain had to say and fluttered in your chest by its own accord. This would be the perfect opportunity to make her feel bad and finally wipe that annoying grin off her face at least for a while, but once more you remained silent. Jiwoo didn’t seem to be bothered by your silence though. Instead, she started babbling about random things like always when she was nervous, and you simply listened to her sweet voice that you had missed so much. You didn’t know how long you stood there, allowing yourself to get completely entranced by her charms. Once more only an unexpected sound could rip you out of your daydreaming although this time the wake-up call was more unpleasant than the last one. It was the sound of your own voice that abruptly ripped you out of your trance. The most surprising thing about hearing your own voice was that you hadn’t even intended to speak. But it seemed like after the betrayal of your heart, now also your brain had plotted against you.

“It’s just so hard not to fall in love with you.”

It took you some time to process what your mouth had let slip without your permission, but as soon as the message arrived in your brain, your eyes widened in shock and your body tensed up. Jiwoo mirrored your reaction and stopped dabbing your shirt before slowly looking up from your shirt and into your eyes. It was hard to pinpoint what emotions flashed over your ex-girlfriend’s face as your own emotions seemed to ride a rollercoaster in your brain. A little part of yourself was relieved to be freed of this secret. But you were also angry at yourself for letting the truth slip. After letting Jiwoo break your heart, you had sworn yourself to never let her know that she still had a grip on you despite everything that she had done to you. You told yourself that she would never be allowed to know that she still managed to make you fall in love with her over and over again. Every day. Every time that you had to see her.

But now she knew.

And you couldn’t help but to feel ashamed. Although you had known that Jiwoo obviously did not suffer from the breakup like you did, you gave her the gratification of revealing the power that she still had over you. Not being able to bear this shame any longer, you quickly shoved Jiwoo away, causing her to stumble backwards dumbfounded. Without losing another word, you brushed past her and fled the restroom. The tears that pooled in your eyes and stained the floor, made it hard to see where you were going but you trusted your instincts to get you as far away from Jiwoo as you possibly could. Once again, however, her omnipresent grasp reached out for you as her name rolled off her tongue and automatically made you slow your steps.

“Y/N, wait!”

Her voice bounced off the walls in the empty hallway and seemed to follow you until you reached the front exit, but this time, you didn’t give in to Jiwoo’s grasp. You kept running until you had long left the school building and couldn’t even see it anymore. You only stopped running once your lungs burned and you felt too lost to keep going although you knew this part of town like the back of your hand. It was no help to know the names of the streets by heart when none of these places could make the compass needle in your heart stop spinning. No matter where you would run, the needle would always keep on pointing in the same direction. Your feet would always want to carry you back to the same place.

To your true north that you had just left behind.

[with-paint]

Breaking the Glass

Part 2 of 2 of Whatever the Outcome Series

Rating: Teen and up

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,204

Summary: The hearing of Lip Gallagher and Professor Helene Runyon is today. You watch it all unfold, it seems, with your hands clasped tightly over your eyes.

Warnings: swearing everywhere, some violence, smoking and drinking of course, slut shaming

A/N: this is the best fucking thing I have ever written and I just want to say ahhhhh. I used the word “fuck” 64 times in this. Set in 6x06. Part 1

It was the day of the hearing and to say Lip was freaking out, was an understatement.

You watched in both horror and amazement as he tore open his third pack of cigarettes. It was a thing you noticed he did when he completely lost it. He chained smoked like a motherfucker. The ashtray you slid his way a couple hours ago was completely filled with stubs and you were pretty sure you could hold the thick smoke in your hands.

You hauled him into your dorm room after his classes were done, wanting him to have company that wasn’t destructive before the board meeting. He sat on your coffee table, and you on the edge of your bed. No one was talking. You let him wallow in his anger and his grief, and you offered him anything you thought could help him. A safe space to freak out and a friend that wouldn’t judge him as he spiraled. He didn’t have to pretend to be strong. Not to you.

You cleared your throat and ran a hand over your mouth as you stared at him. He hadn’t spoken in hours. Hadn’t done anything in hours. Just stared at the floor and smoked.

“Alright champ, I think that’s enough. No need to get lung cancer any faster.” You attempted to tease as you nudged his leg with your foot. You knew your voice gave away your panic, and you felt your face burn as you looked away from him. He leaned back on the table and puffed out more smoke. With a sigh, he threw the barley smoked cigarette onto the giant pile and looked out the window in your dorm room.

You’d always liked that your room faced the giant quad most people walked through. You liked that you could witness everyone just living their lives. It seemed that’s what you did best. Watch as people lived their lives. Make their mistakes. Get back up again.

You tugged a cigarette from one of the packs and lit it quickly. Taking a drag, you felt some of the nerves leave your body.

“We are so fucked.” He swore, staring out at the expanse of the campus. You glanced at him, wondering if he thought this was the last time he would see the campus as a student. You didn’t get along with a lot of people. You were one of a few that didn’t grow up with a silver spoon stuck in your mouth. Your bad temper and lack of manners didn’t help you much. Sure, you liked Joaquin fine, but he was always trying to get into your pants.

Lip was different. You two met a few weeks into Freshman year. You were taking a smoke break when he raged into the alleyway and beat the shit out of a dumpster. You’d been attached to the hip ever since.

You stayed with him over the summer and helped him deal with his little brother and his family anyway you could. Lip was like family to you now, and he might go away. You were terrified he would be expelled. You didn’t know what you would do if he walked out and went to his dorm to pack his bags. Just the thought alone made your blood freeze in your veins. “She’s never going to want to see me again.”

You blinked a few times.

Oh right.

Helene.

He wasn’t scared that he would leave the school. Leave all this hard work and the money he’d been given, especially by that man who paid for this all making Lip fucking owe that man to at least finish. Or his own room which he deserved after sharing a space with three other boys back at home, not that you’d think he minded at the time, but once you get a taste of freedom it’s so hard to go back. Or a place where he actually belonged, a place he could let his mind grow and you’ve seen him teaching, he had a gift, a talent, and he was going to waste it all.

You tried to rack your brain for more reasons, but the one true reason was screaming at you. He couldn’t leave. Leave, fuck, you couldn’t do this, leave you. Your chest heaved as you admitted that to yourself. You were afraid he was going to leave you. Fuck. You couldn’t do this right now. You stared at him and let out a bitter laugh.

No, he was worried that Professor Runyon would be fired because she was sleeping with a student when she knew damn well the risks of doing so. Worried that her fourty year old cougar ass wouldn’t want to see him anymore. That’s what he was so stressed about.

You pushed off your bed and crossed over to the window, taking another deep drag of your cigarette.

“Maybe. You sure know how to pick ‘em.” You said bitterly. Wanting to cause a sting in return for the way his comment hurt you. Lip turned to you and raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, what first was Karen? I don’t even need to explain that one. Then Mandy. I actually really liked her. That one was your fault. Then Amanda, fucking bitch. And now Professor Runyon. Face it Lip, you have bad taste in women.” You took another drag. “And also a thing for blondes.”

Lip flicked his cigarette out as his jaw dropped. “I thought you were supposed to make me feel better.”

“Why the fuck should I have to?!” You snapped, all that anger finally bubbling over and exploding. You threw your cigarette onto the floor and stomped it out. “What ‘cause I’m the only one left? Only one you haven’t fucked so that means I haven’t gotten screwed over by the bullshit logic you use, all orchestrated by your dick?! Are you fucking kidding me Lip? Are you actually this dense? You think she would want to see you after all of this? You ruined her career her fucking livelihood. She has a family she wouldn’t choose you over them you fucking moron!” You laughed again and turned around. The sudden urge to slap him welled up inside you, but you choked it down. You were not going to be another jealous girl. Not you. Fucking no way.

Lip’s nostrils flared as he got progressively angrier at your words.

“You don’t know how she feels about me! She loves me, I-I love her!” He got in your face and you set your jaw as you stared at him.

You leaned into him and jabbed a finger into his chest. Your noses inches apart.

“Lip you love getting your dick wet. You don’t know shit about real feelings you fucking manwhore. All you’ve ever done is fuck girls over for your own agenda. And that’s all you’ll ever do. You’ll die alone because all you know is how to fuck people over and push the ones who care away.” You shoved him out of your face and stormed over to your door.

“Out.” Your voice was steady and calm, but the murderous look on your face betrayed you. Lip let out a sarcastic laugh and picked up his bag from your floor.

“Thank you for fucking nothing then!” He called as he walked out the door. You slammed it before he could start talking again. Grabbing the ashtray off your table, you opened your window, and threw it at the ground. The amber glass shattered as the cigarette stubs scattered along with it. You let out a shaky breath as you fell backwards onto your bed.

Taking a glance at the clock, you groaned. It was an hour until the hearing. You had an hour to decide what the fuck to do.

Alright fuck, let’s go over the facts. Lip is a fucking asshole who was in a relationship with a professor when both knew their relationship would end in either expulsion or loss of a job. Alright so maybe they both got off on the secrecy of it all. You ran a hand over your face and sighed. Who were you to limit who he was with? You were just a friend. And yeah you could have a say in the sense that you could pipe up at a party, make sure he doesn’t sleep with an STD riddled sorority girl. But to say he wasn’t allowed to be with the woman he was in love with? Nah. You couldn’t be the one getting in his way. You stared up at the ceiling and felt the stress physically taking a role on the space between your shoulder blades and at the bottom of your neck.

Okay so you couldn’t be mad at him for being with Professor Runyon.

You could be mad at another thing though. The most obvious things. You couldn’t be mad at him for who he loved. But you could, you could be mad at him for who he didn’t. You pressed the palms of your hands into your eyes and let out a pitiful laugh.

You could be mad that he wasn’t in love with you.

Fuck you were in love with Lip.

“What a fucking cliché.” You spat into the static air of your dorm room. The stupid girl being head over heels for the oblivious best friend. Your mouth raised in a sneer as you thought it over.

You were in love with Lip. Lip. Love. You love Lip. Your conscious was screaming these words. Over and over.

With a shake of your head as though to clear the thoughts you flung your arms out. Okay. You loved Lip, fine. But you didn’t love how he was acting.

You didn’t love this fuckboy persona he was constantly adopting. This “big dick” player Lip. The one Helene and even Amanda fell over. No, you loved the shit talking Lip, the one that takes the L train every weekend to see and help his family. The big protective Lip that holds his baby brother at three in the morning, Liam’s small body shaking from nightmares as Lip continues to annotate his paper for English. No, you were the only person who really loved Lip Gallagher, because you were the only one that really saw him. And he needed someone who truly sees him at this hearing.

You ran a hand over your face and glanced at the clock again. You still had time to make it to this fucking hearing.

In a haste you grabbed your bag, yanked on your lanyard, and booked it out the door, sprinting to the disciplinary sector of the school. You skidded to a stop as you saw Lip pacing in front of a door on the other end of the hall.

With a deep breath, you strode over to him. He looked up in surprise upon hearing you and stopped his frantic pacing. He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair.

“Hey you made it. Didn’t think you’d come.” Lip admitted shoving his hands into his pockets. You still wanted to slap him, but you sighed and set your bag on the metal chair sitting across from the door.

“Wouldn’t miss it. Is Youens inside?” You asked, quietly, fiddling with the lanyard around your neck. Your school ID and keys jingled softly and Lip stared at you. His expression unreadable.

You weren’t one to be shy, weren’t one to show a nervous tick so blatantly. You broke Amanda’s nose without even blinking, yelled at him not even an hour ago, and now you were being shy. Lip blinked a few times trying in vain to understand what that meant for you, what that meant for him.

He cleared his throat and kicked the ground without any real heat behind it.

“Yeah. Just nervous s’all.”

You nodded and rolled your shoulders. Lip watched as you shed away your shyness and became the fearless, trash talking, scrappy girl he knew. Watched as you shed your emotions to be what he needed from you. His heart thudded and he didn’t fucking know why.

“Fuck that. It’ll be easy.” You stepped closer to him and smiled brightly. “It’ll be fine. Professor Youens will be there with you. Just tell them whatever they want to hear. Do not loose your fucking temper. Make sure to blame it on Amanda.” You rambled smoothing the soft blue of Lip’s collar. He let out a huff of a laugh and grabbed your hands that were fidgeting all over him.

“You goin to wait out here?” He mumbled rubbing at his forehead. You sucked your teeth at him and reached up to fix the hairs he tugged down.

“Of course. You’ll get through this. We can get shit faced after, maybe I can break Amanda’s legs. It’ll be a good rest of the day.” You were grasping at straws. All you wanted was to reassure him, calm him down. Every time you spoke it seemed like you were threatening or bad mouthing Amanda, and you saw the sadness in his eyes. He was secretly hurt that she would betray him like that.

Lip nodded and with one last look at you, he walked through the door to his doom. You bit your lip and slowly sunk down on the awful metal folding chair across the hall.

All you could do now was wait.

- - -

Your leg bounced as you took a deep drag of your cigarette. You knew there was no smoking indoors, but you’d be damned if someone tried to take this one comfort away from you. It was all you fucking had left. You let the smoke fill your lungs as you exhaled and blew the white vapor into the static air of the hallway.

The clicking of heels snapped you out of your numb staring and you looked up to see Professor Runyon making her way over to you. You regarded her as you took another drag. Her expression was blank, but you could see in the set of her jaw that she was stressed. You almost smiled as she looked down at you.

“Professor,” you nodded and rested your head on the wall behind you. “I hope it all ends well. Please talk to him if you can.”

She raised an eyebrow at you and looked around nervously.

“Take care of him.” She said quietly, and with that she pushed open the door and walked inside. You blinked up at the empty space she occupied. Well what else have you been doing for the past two years? You huffed out a sarcastic laugh and adjusted your shoulders. You were in deep now weren’t you?

It felt like maybe an hour passed before your thoughts were disturbed by the door opening.

You stood up, wanting to immediately grill Lip on how it went, when instead Professor Runyon briskly walked out. Still composed and professional, but clearly running. You opened your mouth to say something, but she breezed past you, pulling on a beige coat and a scarf.

You blinked a few times and slowly sunk back into the chair before the door banged open again and Lip and Professor Youens walked out. You shot up and looked at them with wide eyes, trying to determine the verdict in their faces. Youens gave you a slight smile, but Lip was hastily tugging on his own coat and looking down the hall at the retreating Professor.

“Helene! Wait!” Lip called jogging after her, completely ignoring you as they both quickly left the building. The big glass door they walked through shining as it slammed close. You blinked a few times and looked down at your bag.

No he fucking didn’t.

You raised your eyebrows and swore openly. Cussing out that fucking bastards name. How dare he. You were the only one who gave a shit about him beside Youens and he couldn’t even look to you.

You yanked your bag and made to storm out of the hall, before Professor Youens put a hand on your shoulder. You snapped your glare to him before dimming it. Your eyes wide, staring into his soft brown ones, you felt more grounded then you did all week. Already visibly calmer he gave you a little smile.

“That boy is probably the biggest idiot I know.” He said, his calming voice washing over you. You closed your eyes for a moment and let out a huff of air.

“I kno-” you began, your anger swelling back up again for that whore you apparently loved.

“But then again so are we.” And with that he turned and left, walking the opposite way and rounding a corner. You stared after him. We’re idiots? What? You blinked a few times, staring at the empty space he used to occupy, and sat back in your pathetic little folding chair.

Youens was a college professor, granted he was a drunk who made Lip do most of his work, but he was a professor and smarter than Lip gave him credit for. And you weren’t exactly a genius, but you worked your ass off and did well, you wouldn’t be here if you couldn’t keep up. Neither of you were idiots. But if you’re going off academic genius, then neither was Lip. You scrunched your nose and glanced at the glass door.

Lip was an idiot because he fucking fucked everyone who looked at him and had no class, and was angry and naïve. Didn’t understand the working world and expected rewards for everything he did. Demanded credit and fell in love with the wrong people, cared too little about people’s feelings and instead what they could do for him.

And you and Youens?

You were idiots for loving him regardless.

You sucked your teeth and crossed your arms. Fuck Youens for making you feel bad, Lip was just a hurt kid in love and he really needed someone right now. You of all people could fucking relate. You let out a sigh and glanced at the glass door again.

Guess it’s time to get this asshole and lick his fucking wounds or something. You threw your bag onto your shoulder and made your way outside.

You spotted him quickly. His tan coat and blonde hair are a pretty big tell. But the biggest, was that he was the only person standing still. Just frozen in the middle of the quad, staring off into the middle distance. You sighed again and slowly made your way to him, making as much noise as possible to not scare him. You were practically stomping before you stopped right behind him.

“Lip?” You mumbled, slowly reaching out a hand. You placed it gently on his shoulder, but he started and spun around quickly, eyes wide.

He looked, uh, you cocked your head at him slightly. He looked like his heart was ripped out of his chest and his smile was thrown away and his happiness was blended up and discarded all right in front of him. He looked absolutely devastated. You pulled your hand off his shoulder and cleared your throat. Gripping and ungripping your bag’s strap, you sighed.

“C’mon. Today’s been rough. Let’s get fuckin wasted.” You said trying to conjure up a smile. It was like Lip was a vacuum and any sense of ease and lightness was destroyed in his presence. You dropped your smile and gripped your bag again. Lip looked only marginally less miserable at the suggestion of booze.

He nodded slightly and you felt yourself returning it. It was going to be fine. You and Lip again, just getting wasted in your dorm rooms like a couple of reckless kids.

As the two of you made the trip back to Lip’s dorm, his shell shocked expression loosened. He wasn’t sad anymore, but fucking angry.

“A year! I met her husband and kid, I was over there all the time. I went on trips with her and kept her drunk ass company! I took care of her! And the only time she looked me in the eye was to tell me to fuck off! She said she was terminating all contact to them! Can you believe this shit?!” He turned to you, hands palm up in front of him, eyes wide and mouth snarled. You could only shake your head as you pushed open the door to his dorm building. You didn’t trust yourself in the slightest to get onto the anti Professor Runyon train. Your dislike for her ran deeper than the offense to the man next to you. Better to keep your mouth shut and not give anything away.

Lip kept cussing and ranting as you climbed the stairs in the cold stairwell. You just kept shaking your head and occasionally mumbling out an, “I know” or “What a bitch”. You weren’t listening. How could you, you were hurt and mad and stressed, worried, and happy all at the same time. You just wanted to get to his dorm so you could drink so much that your brain deteriorated. That’s all you wanted.

You pushed open the doors to his floor and he followed you, still throwing an impressive tantrum. You shook your head for good measure as the door slammed shut behind you.

You blinked back into focus when Lip turned suddenly. You stared at him with wide eyes and he made a lunge to open the just closed door.

“Lip! What the fuck?!” You yelled grabbing him by his sleeves and hauling him back. It doesn’t matter that you could break his arm with ease, he was fueled by pure anger and heartbreak. You didn’t stand a chance. His back was to you, his hand splayed large over the door. It creaked open slowly.

“I need her to fucking understand!” He spat and you couldn’t help the eyeroll that escaped from you. You planted your feet and tugged him harder. He inched backwards and the door slammed shut again.

“She doesn’t want to fucking talk to you!” You spat. You huffed out a frustrated breath and moved your entire body so you were next to him. Still pulling on him you looked at him with a harsh glare. His blue eyes; bright and wild, met yours and you sighed again. With a glance upwards in a silent prayer to whatever god, real or not, that resided above, you punched him swiftly in the dick.

He crumpled to the floor in an instant. His groans of pain and the crash his limp body made, echoed in the small hallway and you fucking sighed again.

You stood over him and glared at him.

“Now you’re going to fucking listen to me!” You spat watching him with a slight snear and his eyes squeezed shut in misery. “Helene cannot talk to you or she will lose her fucking job. This isn’t about you. This is about her money, her passions, her life. You will stay the fuck away from her or you will get her into even more trouble. I know you loved her, but you can get the fuck over it because it’s over. It’s done. The end!”

You finished your rant with a wave of your hands.

You took a few seconds to feel sick satisfaction at watching him in pain. For all the emotional misery he put you through in the last couple hours, it felt nice to return it ten-fold. You cocked your head to the side and finally, kneeled down next to him. He moaned in pain and coughed out pitifully.

“Alright come on. There's ice in your freezer. Let’s go.” Lip only coughed in response. You took that as the gracious “thank you” that it was and helped him hobble to his dorm room. You fumbled with his pockets, trying to find the keys.

“Left one.” He coughed out and you nodded in thanks at him. Swinging the door open you unceremoniously dumped him on his bed, opened the mini fridge, and threw a bag of ice next to him.

He sucked in a shaky breath and gingerly pressed the ice to himself. You smirked slightly and rooted around in his fridge for any alcohol you could find. You pulled out a bottle of vodka that was definitely stolen. You brought it to your mouth and bit the cap off. You spit it at him and he flipped you off in turn.

This was nice. This was normal. Just you and Lip, drinking and lounging around in your rooms. You could do this.

You pulled out another bottle and took that with you. Kicking the fridge closed, you handed him the second bottle.

He seemed to be doing better. His face no longer an alarming shade of red. His breathing evened out and he stared at the ceiling blankly. Better than in pure agony. You shrugged and leaned on his desk, staring at him.

“Are you going to tell me what the verdict was or do I have to punch you again?” You teased making him laugh.

“Yeah. Was uh, was that she terminate all contact. And I lose my job as a RA. Lose this room.” He shuffled back a little so he could prop himself up on his pillows and look at you. You nodded, your eyebrows furrowed.

“Well shit. I’ll drink to that.” You said and took a long, long drink. Lip followed you and you let the horrible taste wash over you.

You didn’t talk for a while after that. Just kept taking long swigs of your drinks and taking turns staring at the floor, or staring at the ceiling.

You let out a little laugh and Lip looked at you quickly. Looking almost scandalized that you would find this funny. You couldn’t help it, the fact that her nudes got leaked was funny as hell for some reason. You clutched your drink tightly and doubled over laughing. Lip stared at you for a few seconds before his own laugh of disbelief joined you. Your twin loud laughs was the only sound in the silent room as you felt tears gathering in your eyes. Lip wasn’t far behind as his face returned to that red color.

“Oh man that’s fucking delightful!” You spit out, still laughing in pure joy. Lip shook his head and let his head fall back in laughter.

“I’m fucked.” He said as he let his own laughter die down into giggles.

You nodded with a grin and you took another sip. Absolutely fucked. The silence settled over your two again. This time it was more awkward than comfortable. You cleared your throat and moved off his desk. Lip raised an eyebrow at you and you stuck your tongue out at him.

You sat on his bed as you took another swig of the cheap vodka. It tasted like rubbing alcohol and fire, but you sucked it down the same. Lip threw his own, now empty bottle at the cushions and it bounced slightly. You smiled slightly at it. Lost in your own thoughts of the events of today. You let out a sigh before you felt the hairs on your arm prick up and you turned to Lip.

He was already staring at you, blue eyes slightly bloodshot, but looking as beautiful as ever. You felt yourself smiling at him. In awe at how much of a beautiful mess he looked. The pair of your breathings was the only thing heard as slowly, so fucking slowly he leaned into you. You sucked in a breath, eyes fluttering close, as his lips covered yours.

You were kissing Lip. You were kissing Phillip fucking Gallagher. The guy you had been trailing over, loving for so fucking long. You moved your hand up to cradle his face. His slight stubble scratching your palm. You were kissing Lip Gallagher. You pressed more into him as your mind wondered like it always did.

You were kissing him immediately right after he got fucking dumped by the woman he loves.

Your mouth turned into a snarl and you jerked back. “I’m not a fucking rebound.” You hissed pushing him off you. You heart thudded in your chest and you prayed he couldn’t hear it.

“I know, I’m just really fucked up right now.” He confessed, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. You narrowed your eyes, yeah fucked up emotionally you bastard. He moved his hands and let out a puff of air. You watched him as his eyes got watery and he quickly rubbed that away too.

God he was fucking wasted.

You blinked a few times as an idea came over you. Lip was fucking wasted.

Your head pounded and you stared at him. He was trashed beyond belief. His eyes closing every few seconds and the dopey smile on his face was all you needed. He was crying a second ago and now he looked like it was his birthday. This was it. Now or never. He would never remember this in the morning.

“I’ve been in love with you for years now.” You stuttered, heart thudding as you twisted the blanket through your hands nervously. Lip bobbed his head in a clumsy nod.

“I know.” He slurred. It felt like a huge weight lifted off your shoulders, as well as an even bigger one clamped down on you and suffocated you. You sucked in a breath and fell back onto Lip’s bed. Fuck he knew. This entire time. And he had the audacity to treat you like this. Fuck him. Fuck this fucking asshole. You were bubbling up to boil over, before Lip’s arm buckled and he fell half on top of you. His mouth open and soft snores emitting. You blinked a few times up at his ceiling in shock. Body stiff as you just laid there with his unconscious body cuddling up to you.

This was the moment then. You could choose to walk out forever and no one could even blame you for doing it. Or you could stay. You could pick up the pieces and help him heal from afar. After all you’ve done that up until this point. What’s a few more years. Hell, what’s the rest of his miserable life. Your nose twitched as you traced the ceiling fan with your eyes.

You had always been the one staring out the window. Even with him. You watched him date these women and fall apart. In your own fucking life you just watched the events unfold. Never did you actually make a decision for you. You thought back to the breaking of Amanda’s nose and couldn’t help but smirk. Well every decision you did make was a violent one.

But.

Where was the getting what you wanted? Where was the heart pounding moments? Where was your own dates with the people you loved?

You made your decision.

You closed your eyes and slowly let yourself relax into the queen size bed. Whatever the outcome of this all, you were breaking the glass and stepping to the otherside. You were fucking staying. You were making your own decisions and finally living. You wanted this. So you were taking it.

[7demonhoes]

The devildom and hell are not the same

I haven’t posted in forever because I was busy dying at school but I’ve finally finished a fic I’ve been working on forever. I decided to break it up into two parts because this is super long, so expect a Part 2!! I am begging you to let me know if you like it 

MC is tired of the demon brothers being secretive and decides to take it into their own hands to figure out just what they’re hiding. 

Word Count: 5016

Warnings: Angst, body horror, gore mentions. The demons act like actual demons. 

All things considered, living in hell has been easier than I expected. 

Sure, I've been threatened and actually murdered by a demon, but in the end, I've come out unscathed. And over the past couple of months, I find myself enjoying the time I spend with the demon brothers more and more. 

I can't complain; it's not like I should be worried about my demon friends not being very… well, demonic, but sometimes I'll bring it up to them and be left with vague answers and quick changes of the subject. I once asked Satan where all of human history got their ideas of Hell and demons in general, but he immediately gave some half-baked excuse of forgetting to do a book report and left me alone before I could finish the sentence. 

Even Beelzebub, who will tell me literally anything as long as I promise him some food, will turn down the opportunity for a snack to answer my questions. 

It's not like I'm surprised. I know that there has to be some parts of their lives that I'm not given privy of, but sometimes it makes me feel almost lonely to know that they have become such a large part of my life while I remain to be a lowly, undistinguished human who doesn't deserve to know whatever they're hiding. 

I could always use my pact with one of them to coax the information out, but I'm afraid of the consequences. Of course I want to know why they won't tell me anything, but my desire to not break their trust is much stronger. 

So I've decided to drop it. But lately, the brothers have been acting strangely. And after what happened yesterday, the desire to know what's going on behind my back is becoming too strong to ignore. 

Lucifer has been in a progressively worse mood for a few days now, snapping at me or his brothers every time we manage to annoy him, no matter how slightly. Yesterday, when Mammon asked if he could use some salt to put on the food Lucifer had prepared, Lucifer's horns practically jumped out of his skull as he stood up and clutched at the back of his chair, glaring at Mammon with glowing, dark eyes. 

Belphie slowly stood up, his usually heavy eyes wide awake as he cautiously made his way over to Lucifer. Careful not to touch him, he stood at Lucifer's side until the enraged demon turned to rest his steely glare on Belphie. Mammon visibly slumped with relief as Belphie stood his ground. 

"Lucifer," Belphie's voice was calm and almost pleading. "This isn't you. You have to go. When do you have time?" 

Lucifer clenched his hands even more tightly on the chair, his grip so strong that the metal underneath his palms groaned as it twisted. "If I had time," Lucifer forced his words out through gritted teeth, "I would have gone by now." 

Belphie narrowed his eyes. Lucifer growled in response. "Come on, Luci. We all promised. Not in front of the human." 

My heart dropped. Was this what they were hiding from me?

Before I could think any longer about the subject, Lucifer's voice drew me back to the conversation. "I can smell their curiosity from here." He grinned, fangs poking at his bottom lip. His smile sent shivers down my spine. "Don't you think they have the right to know?" 

Beside me, Beel stood up and positioned himself so that he was in between me and Lucifer. I looked around the table; Mammon's eyes were glowing just like Lucifer's, his entire body tense. Even Asmo looked ready to pounce, his eyes sliding from Lucifer to me. Levi stood still, his mouth open, hands clenched tightly around the table cloth.

Satan's voice was a warning. "I think you should go cool off in your room, brother." 

Lucifer curled his lip into a snarl. "And I think you should know your place." 

Despite his threatening words, Lucifer slowly let go of the destroyed chair and turned around, striding out of the dining hall and towards his room. 

Even after all of that, the rest of the brothers refused to say anything to me. 

And now, as I sit alone in the common room and play some silly puzzle game on my DDD, I'm startled by the sudden feeling that someone is watching me. 

I take a quick look around the room, which appears to be empty. I look back down at my phone with a shrug and try to ignore the hair raising on the back of my neck. 

It's normal for the brothers to become irritable. Occasionally, and especially when one of the brothers had a very busy week, they become easily angered and will usually burst into their demon form. They'll eventually be calmed down by the rest of the brothers. Somehow, the demons have a way of knowing when to pick a fight with an irritated brother.  

Before, I thought they would sometimes leave the house after one of their episodes to get away from their brothers and be by themselves for a while, but after what Belphie said yesterday… 

Where does Lucifer need to go? And why can't I know about it? 

Not in front of the human. 

Despite the warm fire crackling beside me, I still have to suppress a shiver. 

I want to know where they go and what they do. But the memory of Lucifer's anger keeps popping into my head, coupled with warning bells. If I try to pursue this, it could put me in danger. 

But hey, I live every day surrounded by demons, so what else is new? 

I look up from my DDD with resolve to see Lucifer standing only three feet away from me. I jump, scrambling into a sitting position on the couch. 

Lucifer doesn't move; he stands still like a statue, his eyes trained on me like those of a predator. 

I stare into the pools of black and find nothing but hunger within. 

"Lucifer?" My voice is timid and trembles as it leaves my tongue. The demon stiffens, and for a second I think I'm watching his skin ripple against his flesh. 

But then I blink, and it's still. "Lucifer?" I ask again, my voice slightly steadier this time. 

"Human," his voice is even deeper than usual, "Lately, you have not been as frightened to be in the Devildom. But surely you still possess fear when you look at me, yes?" 

I stare at him, hoping he can't hear the rapid beating of my heart. Lucifer has never acted this way. Is this a joke? Did I do something wrong? 

"I'm not afraid of you," I say. 

"No?" He takes a step forward and I try to push myself deeper into the folds of the couch. "Then we shall make amends to that." 

He smiles at me, his lips stretching far wider than what should be possible. His mouth is full of smooth, pointed fangs, his incisors stretching over his lips. His gums are black and shiny. 

His eyes are fully black. I can see my reflection in them; a tiny human huddled into the couch, shivering like wounded prey. 

Horns slowly break skin and inch out of his skull. Feathers wilt from his back, unfurling with an unhurried pace. Lucifer's flesh crawls, giving way to something else. I don't want to see what it is. I don't want to know what he's changing into; whatever this is, this is not just his demon form. 

He moves to take a step towards me, and before I can register what I'm doing, I open my mouth and scream. 

Lucifer's face contorts into a look of blind rage and he tenses, hands outstretched towards me, legs bending so that he can jump-

A blur vaults over the couch and slams into Lucifer with a hiss. A second later, Mammon sprints into the room and pulls Lucifer backwards as Levi, who ran into the room so quickly that I couldn't see him, holds him down. Lucifer lunges towards me, teeth biting down so hard that the fangs puncture his own skin. Blood splatters onto his shirt, and it makes him roar. 

My vision blurs, and I can't tell if it's because I'm crying or blacking out. 

Warm, welcoming arms wrap around me and I turn to sob into Asmo's chest as three more pairs of footsteps echo across the common room floor. Asmo shushes me gently, his hands wrapping tightly over my ears. "Don't look, okay?"

Satan's muffled voice carries over Asmo's palms. "Stay here! We'll get Lucifer out of here!" 

I stay still until the sounds of scuffling and Lucifer's roars finally fade. Asmo releases his grip, instead moving his hands so that he can wrap one of his arms around my back and the other on the back of my legs. He effortlessly picks me up, his lips pressed tightly against my forehead. 

"It's okay," he whispers. "You're safe. Let's get you in your room, love." 

The tears won't stop. I open my mouth to speak, but can only manage a tiny squeak. 

These demons have tried to kill me multiple times. Hell, Belphie literally murdered me. And yet… and yet I have never been as afraid as I was just now.

I suddenly grow very cold. Lucifer didn't want to kill me. He wanted to hurt me. And I think he wanted to make it last. 

Asmo carries me to my room, resting me on my bed. He sits near my feet, a hand resting gently on my leg. I curl up into a ball, my body still shaking uncontrollably. 

I wait until I feel as if I can speak. "Why?" 

Asmo sighs, running a hand through his hair. It sweeps perfectly back into place. "He's been really stressed lately. Maybe after some alone time-" 

I sit up with a start, cutting him off. "I'm not an idiot. That was not normal. I've seen Lucifer stressed! And that was not--  that wasn't him. He was changing." I try to push the image away, try to forget that terrible mouth or the way his skin lept and moved as if insects scuttled underneath. "He was changing into something I've never seen." I glare at Asmo. His face is a perfect blank slate, free of emotion. 

It only makes me angrier. "You can't lie to me about this anymore. Tell me what's going on." 

He shakes his head. "I can't. I promised Diavolo. We all did." He tries to reach for my hand, but I pull it away from him. Hurt flashes in his red eyes. "Look, honey, there are some…. things about being a demon that I can't tell you. Please believe me when I say that not knowing is for your own good." 

I lie down, turning my back so that I'm no longer facing him. "You can't make that decision for me." 

"It was made long before you got here."

"I don't care!" I shout. Asmodeus gasps quietly; I don't think I've ever yelled at him before. "Leave," I mutter, digging my head into my pillow, "I don't want to see any of you right now." 

I don't want to see his face. I don't want to imagine the hurt. But I'm done with the lies, with the constant avoidance. I'm going to find out what's happening. 

When I lift my head from my pillow, the only sign of Asmo is the lingering scent of his perfume. 

The remainder of the week is… strange. The air in the house is tense, and everyone seems like they're stepping around broken glass. Asmo must have told everyone my reaction, because all the brothers give me space and are careful to never get close enough to touch me. 

It feels nice at first, knowing that they care about me enough to let me go to them. But no one mentions what happened; they all just stare at me with expectant, worried eyes. 

I haven't even seen Lucifer. I know he's in the house. His study constantly smells of fresh coffee, and I can occasionally hear soft piano music drifting throughout the halls, but he somehow manages to avoid seeing me. 

It pisses me off. Is he waiting for me to approach him? Because I'm not the one who attacked him, and I refuse to crawl back to him and ask if everything is okay between us. I deserve better.

We're not eating together anymore. I don't know where the brothers eat; I've found a plate with plastic wrap with my name scribbled on it for the past four mornings and nights. 

So I've stayed in my room for the most part, only leaving for food or to attend RAD. I've considered asking Solomon or one of the angels for advice, but I don't want to bring them into this. Simeon would just ask the demons directly, Solomon would suggest magic, and Luke would… 

Well, he probably wouldn't do much besides grumble about his hatred for demons. But maybe spending some time with the adorable angel would help keep my mind off things. 

I'm about to reach across my bed for my phone and ask if he's up for some cupcake decorating when I hear the sound of two knuckles rapping at my door. 

I put my phone down and take a deep breath. "It's open." 

Beel's hulking figure emerges from behind the door. He leaves it slightly open as he takes a couple steps forward, coming to an awkward stop  in front of my dresser, hands in his pockets. A part of me twinges; usually, he just sits right beside me. 

"Hey," his smooth voice is soft, his hair covering his eyes. 

"Hi," I reply, curling my arms around my knees. It's not like I enjoy having this sort of awkward tension between the brothers, but I'm far too stubborn and annoyed to do anything about it. 

"I uh," he shifts his feet. "I'm not sure why everyone is still avoiding you. They said to wait until you told us you wanted everything to go back to normal, but I miss you." 

Beel turns to the side to show a stuffed backpack on his back. "I want to eat with you. Is it okay?" 

I smile, tapping the spot on my bed next to me. "Thank you." 

"Of course," he nods, already reaching into the backpack to pull out a handful of snacks. He sits down, his back leaning against my pillows. He puts the bag in between us before taking a bag of chips and pouring it into his mouth. He swallows, turning to me. "Do you want to talk about it?" 

I snort bitterly. "You apparently can't tell me anything I actually want to know." 

Beel looks at me like a lost puppy. "I'm really sorry. I wish I could, but Diavolo told us we couldn't. And I don't want a repeat of what happened to Belphie. I don't want to see my brothers get hurt again." 

I shake my head. It really is impossible to stay angry at this man, isn't it? "Why is Lucifer avoiding me?" 

Beel sighs. "He's really mad at himself for doing that to you. I think he's afraid that you hate him now. You were so close to-" He cuts off, filling his mouth with food. 

"Close to what?" 

He swallows. "Close to seeing something we never want you to see." He laughs, but there's no humor in the sound. "I don't think you'd like us very much if you knew, and that would make me sad." He reaches into his backpack and pulls out a candy bar. "Here, I know it's your favorite." 

I take it, tearing open the wrapper. Suddenly, my door creaks and I look up to see Mammon shyly sliding into the room. "Do ya got room for one more demon?" 

I reach into the bag and offer him a snack. He gingerly takes it from my fingers, careful not to touch me. He plops down on the floor, his head facing away from me. 

"Did you miss them, too?" Beel asks. 

"What?" Mammon scoffs, shaking his head wildly. "Why would I miss a human? I just thought I should've paid 'em a visit since I knew they'd be missing me!" 

I share a knowing glance with Beel. "It's okay," I say, ruffling Mammon's hair. "I missed you, too." 

"Hashahsaza?" Mammon squeaks as more incomprehensible sounds come out of his mouth. 

I smile, leaning casually against Beel's shoulder. Maybe this house is finally returning back to normal. 

The next day at RAD, I find my way into an empty student council room for my meeting with the rest of the members. I take my seat, pulling out some homework out of my bag to get it done before any of the brothers start pestering me to spend time with them.  

I’m just about to start a reading about the history of the Celestial Realm when I hear a small, polite cough from the other side of the room. I look up to see Lucifer standing stiffly in front of the doorway. 

“Hello,” Lucifer takes a few steps forward and stops, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. “I was hoping I’d find you here.”

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms expectantly. Lucifer takes another curt step forward so that I’m finally able to see his face clearly. 

His eyes are guarded. “Erm,” he starts, showing a flash of discomfort before immediately hiding it, “I came here to apologize. The way I acted the other day was… unforgivable.” His eyes widen as if hearing the weight of his words. “Despite that, I would encourage you to forgive me.”

“Why?” I ask, just to see him squirm. 

He opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. “If our relationship has changed negatively, I believe that it would make your time as an exchange student here more difficult for you.”

I frown. “Is that your only reason?”

He furrows his eyebrows, the shadow of a smile hinting at his lips. “Ah,” he chuckles. “Fine, I will humor you. I don’t want our relationship to change. I enjoy your company and would be… displeased if you no longer felt comfortable enough to spend time with me.”

I shake my head. “Why do you always have to be so formal?” I sigh, grinning at the demon. “I also like spending time with you. But what you did scared me.” Annoyance bubbles in the back of my mind. “And despite what I saw, everyone is still refusing to tell me what happened, or why it happened.” 

“It’s for your own good.”

“I still have the right to know.”

Lucifer narrows his eyes, and the air around him darkens. “It is your privilege to be here, in the Devildom. You are the first human without the possession of magic to step foot in this realm. We are entitled to keep things from you in order to protect your feeble body and mind.”

Feeble? “Fine. Whatever. I’ll just try to forget everything I saw and pretend that everything is fine in Hell.”

Lucifer takes a step forward. I swallow, my anxiety building as he gets closer. “You know nothing of Hell." He has to force the following words out of his mouth. "Pray that you never do."

I don't bother to continue with the conversation, instead taking out my phone to busy myself with something other than Lucifer. He takes his seat. 

The other demon brothers start filtering into the room, eyes drifting worriedly from me to Lucifer. Asmo, Satan, and Levi are still staying clear of me. When Belphie walks into the room, he rolls his eyes and mutters something about grudges under his breath. 

We all sit in awkward silence until Diavolo rushes into the room, arms full of papers. He sits down across from us, smiling widely. If he notices the tense air, he doesn't say anything about it. 

The meeting is the same as usual; we discuss future school events, budgets, and anything else that needs to be addressed. I don't say much throughout the meeting. People don't mess around as much as they usually do. 

After about an hour or so, Diavolo stands and faces me. "I'm sorry to do this, but I need to have a meeting between just me and your demon housemates. Please return to the House of Lamentation. Solomon is waiting for you outside the school." 

I open my mouth to object, but Diavolo cuts me off before I can do so. "This is a private matter among high demons." 

I'm not going to win this fight. I nod, gather my things, and leave. Solomon waves at me from the front gate, and I suddenly get an idea. 

"What's up, nerd?" He greets. 

I rush over to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Wanna help me spy on the demon brothers?" 

He raises an eyebrow. "I'm interested." He clicks his tongue, an annoyed look on his face. "But I promised Simeon and Luke I'd go out shopping with them, so I can't go with you." 

"That's fine," I say, "I only need a way to track 'em." 

He winks and begins walking towards the direction of Purgatory Hall. "I have the stuff for a tracking potion in my room. I can whip it up real quick." 

I grin at him. "You're the best, Solomon." 

"I know." He laughs as I push him playfully. "What do you need the potion for, anyway?" 

I shrug. "They're keeping things from me." Solomon stares at me, waiting for me to continue. I sigh heavily. "Lucifer tried to attack me the other day. I need to figure out why." 

He nods, suddenly serious. "I don't have to tell you to be careful, right?" 

"I'll be careful." 

He's quiet for the rest of the way to Purgatory Hall. Once we arrive, he sneaks into his room. It's full of well-organized clutter; each shelve is filled with spell books, potions, empty bottles, and ingredients. Solomon picks up a spell book from his bedside table and begins ruffling through it. Once he finds the page he was looking for, he wanders around his room and picks up various items around the room. 

He grinds a few herbs before mixing them together. "Which of the brothers do you want to track?" 

I frown, thinking. "Is there any way for them to know that I'm using magic to track them?" 

Solomon clicks his tongue thoughtfully. "It's rare, but possible if they're on guard." 

"In that case, Beel." 

I almost feel bad for choosing him, but I know he's far too hungry all the time to focus on any other feeling he may get. Also, he's the most trusting of the brothers. 

Solomon reaches into a desk drawer and pulls out a vial. There's a few different items within it, but I can clearly make out a few strands of Beel's orange hair. 

"Solomon," I start, "Do you have DNA from all the brothers?" 

"Yeah," he says indifferently. 

I feel uneasy. "Solomon," I swallow, "Do you have my DNA?" 

He snorts, giving me a quick glance. I suddenly feel very worried. "Why?" 

"You know, just in case." 

I gape at him for a while as he adds the herb and DNA mixture to a vial that's filled with an opaque liquid. Once he begins to mix the potion, it turns into a shimmery gray color. Solomon holds it out to me. "Drink it, and you'll know exactly where to find Beel." 

I take a deep breath, swallowing down the growing trepidation in my throat. I have to know what's going on. I need to understand why Lucifer acted that way, and why the demons are hiding it from me. 

I ignore the voice in the back of my head screaming at me to stop and down the potion in one gulp. Almost immediately, I feel a warmth in my chest. It pulls forward towards a particular direction. 

"Here I go," I say, encouraging myself to move forward. I motion towards Solomon's door. 

He catches my wrist. I turn to look at him. "If it turns out bad, come here. I have a trap in my room so that if anyone besides me comes in without me taking it down, I'll immediately lock them in an invisible forcefield. You won't be able to leave until I get back here, but that also means that no one will be able to touch you." 

I nod gratefully. A few days ago, I would have just thought that getting caught would mean having to deal with one of Lucifer's lectures. Now, I'm not so sure. 

Solomon walks me out of the house, giving my shoulder an encouraging squeeze before closing the door behind me. I concentrate on the tugging feeling in my chest and turn towards the direction it’s pulling me. I get further away from RAD and the House of Lamentation with every step I take.

After about half an hour of walking, I realize that I’ve never been this far away from the center of the Devildom. I’ve always been in the same little bubble since coming to the demon realm, and the realization that I’m walking out of that safe space to investigate the demons causes an icy chill to slice into my back. 

My surroundings change from that of a city to what appears to be a barren wasteland. Houses and shops become more sparse, giving way to fields of black, scorched earth. The moon barely sheds any light on my path, and my pace slows down to an unbearable crawl without the help of streetlights. I can only squint and hope I don’t trip over anything as I follow the warm pull in my chest. 

My calves begin to burn; I narrow my eyes in front of me, realizing with a start that I’m walking uphill. My path becomes more and more steep, rocks tumbling down the earth behind me as the soil is shaken up by my trembling feet. It gets so bad that I have to crawl in order to move forward without falling down. 

The feeling in my chest grows hotter. The air blurs in front of me, swirling gently. I blink at the strange sight. I’ve seen this before, during magic lessons at Solomon’s house. It’s some kind of forcefield, but not the kind that keeps people out. Maybe it’s to keep something hidden?

I push down the rising, primal panic in my gut and crawl forward, instinctively closing my eyes as I pass through the almost imperceivable wall. 

My ears immediately begin to ring with the painful sound of screams. 

I’m kneeling over a cavernous pit that seems to stretch out for eternity. Once I understand what I’m looking at, I immediately lean to the side and empty my stomach onto the scorched earth. I have to cover my mouth to keep myself from wailing. I’m too afraid that the… things in the pit will hear me. 

The pit is set up like a maze, the walls built out of jagged, black rock. Cages are scattered around the cavern, and if I squint hard enough I see small, bony limbs stretched out in a hopeless plea. Dark figures roam the hallways, occasionally letting people out of their confinement and shoving them away from the metal bars. 

The large, dark figures take their hostages and lead them towards pain. I’m lucky that I’m too far away to see exactly what happens to those poor souls, but I can see their bodies contort in pain as they’re tortured. One is pushed into a pool of molten lava, forced to swim to the other side to continue traversing through the maze. When they finally meet the end, their skin sends smoke into the air. 

They all live, no matter what happens to them. Each corner of the maze brings a horrible new punishment, but the broken figures continue to march on. They continue to walk, even if they are dragging their entrails in their wake. And the dark figures not only lead them, but they cause the punishments as well. If I concentrate hard enough, I can hear laughter drift through the pained cries. 

I’m looking into the pits of Hell. 

I cannot move. I must be crying because my vision is blurry, but I can’t feel the tears. The brothers were right. I shouldn’t have asked. I shouldn’t have meddled in business that wasn’t mine. I would have been better off not knowing what they did to resist the temptations of their own sins. 

Time doesn’t exist on this side of the forcefield. I can’t tell how long I kneel at the edge of Hell, biting on my lip until I taste blood so I don’t scream. It feels like days. My body is frozen. All I can do is watch as souls are tortured, put into cages, healed, and then tortured again. 

I am in Hell. And the demon brothers that I once thought were mine are down there, taking delight in the pain of human souls. 

I hear footsteps. They are close, the sound of shifting grass making its way into my thrumming ears. The voices I hear are familiar. They are no longer welcoming. 

Seven figures make their way towards me. Once they see me, they stop. A mixture of surprise, horror, and regret flash upon their contorted faces. I am only able to recognize them by their eyes; the rest of their bodies are far too different, far too monstrous to be recognizable.

I stare at the seven brothers that I’ve lived with for months. I have loved them with all my heart, have felt more at home in their arms than I have in my whole life. And yet, I feel none of that warmth anymore. 

I look at the True Forms of the men I grew to love and can no longer recognize. 

And finally, I allow myself to scream. 

Part 2

[bakubabes-tatakae]

Request: “Looks like I just found my new kink”, Could you do this with Itachi? Because Love that man

Experimentation || {NSFW} Itachi x Reader

Event Masterlist | Tip Jar 📫

Warnings: smut, 18+ content, bondage, dirty talk, teasing

Word Count: 1k

Itachi had been away for weeks. The need to see the man that you loved was always growing. His presence had always left a warm and comfortable feeling in the hideout. He had been the person that had always made you feel safe. When he wasn’t here it was like there was a piece of you that was missing.

So when you heard the door to the hideout opening you dropped the dish that you had been holding into the sink and turned around. You could see the figures of the Akatsuki members making their way back into the hideout and you waited to sense him. But as everyone came through and you couldn’t sense Itachi’s chakra your heart sank. You ran to Kisame and grabbed his arm. “Where’s Itachi?”

Kisame stopped in his tracks and smiled at you. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Y/n. Itachi is fine. He’ll be along. He just had something to do before he could come back.”

Your heart calmed some, but you didn’t release Kisame’s arm. “Does it have to do with what I think it does?” Pictures of Itachi and his brother flashed through your mind as your piercing eyes threatened to dig a hole through Kisame.

You felt the man place his hand on your head. “It does, but don’t stress yourself. He’s not going after him. He’s just watching from a distance for a little while. He wants to see how he’s progressing.”

Relief washed over you as you finally took your grip from his arm. “Thank you.” Kisame nodded slightly and walked away, leaving you in the kitchen by yourself to go back to the dishes.

But as you finished them you felt a presence behind you. You hadn’t even heard them enter the hideout, but the chakra felt different. Your heart pounded as you tried to get yourself to turn around and face them. Before you could muster the courage you felt arms wrap around your waist and the long, raven-colored hair of Itachi Uchiha hung over your shoulder.

Your eyes grew wide as you turned and nearly threw yourself at the man. He stumbled backward a little as he caught you and his angelic laugh rang out in the area. “Itachi!”

He placed a hand on your cheek and smiled. “My darling, I missed you.”

You placed your lips to his in desperation. You had been so scared that Kisame had been wrong. You had been so scared that Itachi had made a bad decision and gone after Sasuke without backup. Scared that something had happened to him. “I missed you, too.”

Itachi’s strong arms wrapped around your legs and you felt your body be lifted from the ground. As you sat in Itachi’s arms you couldn’t help but let your head rest on his chest. Just happy to take in his familiar scent again. You felt him moving, knowing that he was probably headed for the bedroom.

He placed you gently onto the bed and you could feel his figure hovering over yours. “My love, there’s something that I’d like to try with you.”

You swallowed hard at the thought of what he could be talking about. It wasn’t like Itachi to be experimental in bed. It wasn’t like him at all…

Itachi slowly stood back up and walked to the dresser, reaching into the top drawer and grabbing a small piece of rope. Your curious eyes met his as he sauntered back toward you. “Give me your hands darling.” You reached out to him and let him place the rope around your wrists.

Itachi gently tied the rope around you and a smirk spread across his face. “Now let’s have a little fun, shall we?” You felt your hands lifting over your head as you stared into his lustful eyes. “No using your hands darling.”

Itachi wrapped his fingers into the waistband of your pants and slowly pulled them down your legs. As they left your body he tossed them without caution to the side and his hand slowly rubbed over your panties. “You’re dripping for me already darling.” He leaned over you and placed his lips against your ear. “Your pussy is so ready for me.”

You whined as you felt him remove his hand, but when you heard the sound of his belt the yearning in your loins starts to grow. As Itachi hovered back over you you felt his erection against your leg. But as you tried to beg for more you felt him line his length up with your entrance. With each thrust you could feel the coil in your abdomen tightening. It had been weeks since Itachi and you had had time to be intimate. It was a long time overdue.

Itachi grabbed the rope around your hands and pinned them down to the bed, holding them down so that you couldn’t attempt to grab him. You fought against him, desperate to wrap yourself around him, desperate to touch him. He smirked as he listened to every little sound that escaped your lips. “Do you like that, my love?”

You couldn’t muster words, but the small whine that came from you gave him the answer that he had been looking for. “You’re so tight, darling. You’re so perfect for me.”

As your walls closed around his cock he was finding it harder and harder to hold himself back. His release threatened to happen as your cunt clenched around him. “I’m so close, my darling. Come for me.”

Your walls closed around him as you cried out his name. “F-fuck, Itachi.” As his name rolled off your tongue he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. With a strangled sound coming from him he unloaded himself inside of you.

As he collapsed on the bed beside you he looked over. “Looks like I’ve found my new kink.” He rolled over and placed a hand on your face. “If you’ll let me tie you up more often, I’m always happy to do so.”

You lifted your arms from behind your head and reached your hands out toward him. “If you get to tie me up, then I get to tie you up Itachi.” A sly grin spread across your face. “Fair is fair. Now let me have my fun.”

Itachi slowly untied your hands and held the rope out to you. “Show me what you’ve got darling.”

[marshmallow-phd]

Scarlet Moon

Genre: Scarlet Heart Ryeo!AU, Time Travel!AU, Alternate History, Royalty!AU

Pairing: OC x EXO OT9

Summary:  This isn’t Gwen’s time. She was from the modern era, with technology and electricity. But during a solar eclipse, she’s transported back into a previous life in a time and place she does not know. Now, as the foreign daughter of a merchant living in a prince’s household, she must tread carefully, watch her back, and guard her heart. But with the princes locked in a battle over the throne, the chances of her making it out alive might disappear.

Part: 1 I 2 I 3

                                            ********

The paper sliced across the skin before any action could be taken to avoid it. A high pitched hiss followed by a short whine. The flap of skin that had been separated was being dyed red. 

Gwen stuck her index finger in her mouth to sooth the stinging. It helped a little bit. Still sucking on the appendage, Gwen stumbled over to the supply closet and opened the thin metal doors with the other hand. She kept this feat up as she opened the first aid kit and pushed around the different types of bandages, trying to decide which one to use. The cut was right on the tip, right where you never want it to be. It was hard to get a band aid on that kind of cut. Eventually, she found a smaller version of a standard design and ripped the paper covering opening. She wrapped the band aid around her index finger before heading for her desk. It was back to the files that had injured her in the first place. 

The pile was tall; by her standards, at least. Gwen had been dealing with it for the past hour. The dates on the files needed sorting, separating the ones could be sent to long-term storage. She almost gave out another whine, but she didn’t want the others to hear and start the relentless teasing. Her coworkers were quick and very witty. 

It was a friendly floor. Everyone joked and played around without the fear of feelings being hurt. If Gwen didn’t have to do the actual work that came with the office space, she wouldn’t mind staying here forever. But dealing with these files and demanding customers and meeting quotas was not what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Not that Gwen knew exactly what it was that she did want to do. She’d tried a lot of things over the last few years in her slow going college years. Marketing, history, education - hell, she even took several makeup courses and skincare lessons that focused on natural resources. None of it stuck, none of it held her interest, though the information could be recalled if needed. 

“You alright there, Gwen?”

Drudging up from the bowels of her thoughts, Gwen looked up at Kimberly, who had stopped at her desk on the way back from the printer. 

“Yeah,” Gwen nodded with a sigh. “Just… ready for the week to be over.”

“Ain’t that the consensus,” Kimberly laughed. 

“How are the dogs?” Gwen was seizing the opportunity to distract herself from work. Kimberly owned two dogs with opposite personalities. One was the well-mannered older brother, the other was the skittish, hyper younger brother. She loved to talk about them and there was never a shortage of entertaining stories. 

Kimberly rolled her eyes. “Kurt is back to back to demanding his breakfast at five a.m. Oh, but Kent now does this thing where he walks backwards. Whenever he starts doing that, we’ll beep at him. You know, like the garbage trucks? Then he gets all shy and hides his head.”

Gwen couldn’t stop giggling at the thought. “Oh, the poor thing!”

“You’ll have to see it next time you come over.”

“I can’t wait.”

As Kimberly walked away, Gwen sighed. She didn’t get out too much and the humor that most of her socializing outside of work was with one of her coworkers wasn’t lost on her. Just another dart to throw at the board that was Gwen Sinclair. 

It wasn’t like her life was a complete disaster. Really, it could have been worse. She could imagine a thousand different scenarios that she could be living right now that were worse off then her current situation. Truthfully, if glanced at from the outside, Gwen’s life was simply... mediocre. She was blessed with tolerable roommates, an okay job that provided a nice paycheck for a twenty-three-year-old who had yet to finish college. But… the loneliness was killing her and overall, she was craving for something more. 

She was exhausted from obligation and responsibility. She wished to go back to the days where she read about adventure and intrigue and imagined some day living that out herself. After having those words in her hands, she felt empty in her reality. Somehow, each day felt even more draining. 

With the end of another workday, Gwen packed up the files that still needed to be sorted, locked up her cabinets and tugged on her coat as she waved goodbye to Kimberly and the others. A few other coworkers were chatting excitedly about the solar eclipse happening in a few minutes. Gwen, however, was annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that all anyone - online or in person - could talk about was the solar eclipse, as if it was the only one that had ever been seen in this generation. When one person mentioned the eclipse, it was fine. When it was every post and every comment and every conversation, it felt a little ridiculous. Gwen couldn’t care less about the event. Getting home was her current priority. But escaping wasn’t that easy. 

For the millionth time, Gwen rolled her eyes as she scrolled through the newsfeed, waiting for her car to warm up in the parking garage. The weather was cold and dreary, slowing down her progress on getting home. Puffs of steam escaped her lips in the below freezing temperature. Other employees hurried past the back of her car to get to their own tiny sanctuaries. An alert for a new email popped up at the top of the phone screen. From the quick scan of the notification, she saw that it was from her eastern history professor. He wanted to go over the latest paper from class. Oh, no. That was never a good sign. 

Gwen huffed, threw her car into reverse, and pulled out of the parking space. First the papercut, now this. 

Since all her classes were online, Gwen had the minor luxury to not be forced to talk to her professor face to face, which surely would have been humiliating. But it couldn’t be avoided completely. She’d email him back once she arrived home. Or maybe she’d put it off until tomorrow. Dealing with this was the last thing she wanted to do. Stress was already causing her skin to revert back to puberty, she didn’t need this as well. 

Her phone rang and she struggled to answer it while carefully winding down the levels of the garage. It was Jaynie, the favorite of the roommates.

“Hey, Janie, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just wondering if you were coming straight home today.”

Gwen smirked, knowing exactly where this was going. 

Over the past several months, a bit of an obsession had developed with Korean dramas. The shows the two of them consumed were different from the same old, boring American television and there were years worth of stories to choose from. Currently, they were in the middle of another romantic comedy. While Gwen loved the storyline and was in a constant state of swoon, as soon as the credits started rolling, she was reminded how pathetically uninteresting her life was. But those sixty plus minutes of pure escapism made it all worth the crash that came afterwards. 

Gwen tried to wait patiently in the line to leave the parking garage, but her frustration was getting the better of her. It was stop and go, stop and go, stop and go.

“I’m planning on it. That is, if people decide any day now to not drive idiotically.”

“Ugh, I had the same problem on my way home.” 

Curious. Both of them worked in the downtown area. “How did you get home so fast?” Gwen asked.

“I got off a little early today.”

“Lucky.” Her accounting job often led to flexible hours. Gwen was jealous of that level of freedom. 

The road was slick from the freezing rain. Weather like this brought out all the stupid drivers as if this wasn’t a yearly occurrence. She was careful to look both ways before exiting the garage and inching into the street. What she didn’t account for was the other emptying lot across the street. A large black SUV pulled out right at the same time, but went too fast, hitting the water that was slowly turning to ice on the asphalt. 

With no time to react, the SUV slammed into the side of Gwen’s compact car. Glass from the driver’s side window shattered and sprayed her face. Her phone flew out of her hand. The crunch of metal hit her ears before she could fully process what had happened. With the force of the collision, her forehead slammed against the steering wheel before the airbag deployed. The sound of screams echoed around her, but the words were unintelligible. Slumped over in her seat, a shadow creeped over the scene. Through the slits of her barely open eyes, Gwen watched as the sun disappeared behind the moon. Then all went black. 

                                           ********

The water was what brought her back. It filled her lungs and surrounded her on all sides. She flailed her limbs, desperate for traction that couldn’t be found. Her clothing weighed her down, the hems being pulled as if hands had gripped tight on them. She needed a miracle. And a miracle she got. Two hands held onto one of her wrists and pulled her to the surface. 

She gasped for air as her rescuer struggled to bring her to shore. The cloth that covered her felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, making it nearly impossible to move. Water made its way up her throat, spilling over her lips. Her lungs were finally clear. They took in as much oxygen as they were allowed, burning with each brath. 

“Lady Gwen! Lady Gwen!”

A young girl blocked out the bright sun. She shook Gwen’s shoulders desperately. 

Gwen’s brain processed that the girl was not speaking English, but… she could understand her. The girl’s damp, dark hair was pulled into halves on either side of her face held in place by wide red straps. She looked at Gwen with deep concern, like a lifelong friend. But Gwen was sure she had never seen this girl before in her life. 

“My Lady, can you hear me?” she asked frantically.

“Who are you?” Gwen finally choked out. 

That made the girl pause in her panic. “What?”

Slowly regaining her strength, Gwen pushed herself up to her knees. As her eyesight cleared, she took in her surroundings. Gone were the tall metal and glass buildings, traffic lights, and speeding cars of her modern home. Now all that surrounded her were trees and a sandy beach of a large, calm lake. In the distance, wooden houses with curved rooftops, painted in bright reds and greens dotted the horizon. The heaviness that weighed her down was a dress made of too many layers and of no western fashion that she’d ever experienced before. 

Whispers bounced around the rocky shore. All the faces that were looking on with concern around were unfamiliar. Gwen grabbed the hair cascading down her back, but it was still the red she knew, darker from the dampness of being pulled out of the water but still her hair. 

“Where am I?” she asked in a quiet, gasping voice.

“My Lady, don’t you remember?” The girl panicked. “You’re in Songak. Goryeo.”

“Goryeo?” Gwen screeched. All the minor details she could summon up of the country came rushing to the forefront of her mind. It was information overload and her brain couldn’t handle it. Her lungs tried desperately to keep up, breathing in as much air as they could, but her throat was closing up from the panic. The landscape blurred and she fell to the ground.

                                          ********

She was in a bed this time when she regained consciousness. The room was cold and dimly lit with soft, orange candlelight. A man, Caucasian unlike the others, sat beside the bed on a stool, worry etched into every facet of his face.

“Gwen, sweet, are you all right?”

English. He was speaking English. But that was a footnote of comfort to the bigger problem. She still didn’t know what had happened to her or how she got here or who these people were that seemed to know her. The man, who was about in his mid-forties with salt and pepper hair, smiled down at her, though his eyes were confused. “Gwen, does it hurt anywhere? Can you tell me if you hit your head?”

Gwen took a moment, to calm down and to evaluate what she was feeling physically. Her head didn’t hurt, nor did any other part of her body. Wordlessly, she shook her head. The man seemed relieved. 

“Are you all right?” He asked again, a different meaning under the question this time. “Chae Ryung said you couldn’t remember her or that we were in Goryeo? Do you at least remember your papa?”

Gwen weighed the choices in her mind. There wasn’t a mirror around, but she started to wonder if she had taken the place of someone else. Someone who knew these strangers. She could say that she didn’t know any of them - the truth - but would they think her mad if she spilled too much? Perhaps she could say she remembered a few things. Like him, if he is this poor girl’s father. Why am I here? In this time? 

Choosing to comprise with herself, she gave the smallest of nods. “Papa.” Sitting up, she pulled him into a hug and there was something comforting about his embrace. This body remembered him, at least. 

“What happened?” she asked after she let go. 

“Chae Ryung said that you’d wandered off again and she found you, you’d been the water a long time.” The man, Papa, sucked in a breath, his eyes beginning to water. His genuine concern over her wellbeing made Gwen choke up as well. “The doctor said you stopped breathing. That could explain your lost memories.”

Good. The excuse was already in her hands. That should make it easy enough to play along while being forgiven for any missteps. But they shouldn’t be in Goryeo. That didn’t make any sense, historically. If anything, they might have been in Joseon – late Joseon. Was this some sort of alternate timeline? Or maybe she hit her head really hard in the car crash and this is really all a dream from the stress of her paper and too much K-drama. 

Yes. Too much K-drama.

That had to be the explanation. This was all a strange dream. Which meant, she could play along and not be afraid. She could ask questions and live out the day until she woke back up in her own time, most likely in a hospital with a bandage on her head and her mother fretting over her. 

She glanced around the room, taking in the architecture that she had only ever seen in pictures. In person, it was even more stunning and intricate. This wasn’t an ordinary citizen’s home. Interesting. What else could her brain come up with? “Why are we in Goryeo?”

“Your father’s a merchant, remember?” He spoke slowly. Each word was deliberate, giving Gwen time to process. Good filler for her mind. “I made a large fortune here and planned on taking you back home, but… your mother is buried here. We couldn’t leave her behind.”

A wave of emotion hit out of nowhere. Though her mother was alive and well, it didn’t stop a tear from escaping. “Mama.”

Papa wiped it away with a coarse finger. Gwen gasped back, surprised by the realness of the touch. Her dreams were never this intricate. The blanket strone across her lap scrunched in her fingers. It was cold and soft… and very real. 

She wasn't dreaming, was she?

Confused by her reaction, Papa paused for a moment before continuing his explanation. “The eighth prince is graciously letting us stay with him while we wait on the construction of our home to be complete.”

The eighth prince?

Panic grew tenfold. If this wasn’t a dream, then she was in very big trouble. If history told her one thing, it was that proximity to royalty was the most dangerous place to be. Gwen might possibly have been able to skate by if they were simply staying in some unknown village far from the capital, but they were in a prince’s home. Which meant they were in… Songak, the capital city, just like that girl – Chae Ryung – had said. Right under the King’s nose. Breathing became difficult again. Each one was shallow, barely letting in any oxygen. Gwen could feel her chest tighten and her vision blurred. 

“Gwen!” Papa jumped up and tried to keep her straight to give her lungs as much room as possible. He switched to Korean as he called out over his shoulder, “Someone, get the doctor! Now!” Shuffling sounds echoed off the floor on the other side of the sliding door and then faded away.

A minute later, breathing no better, two men and a woman rushed inside along with Chae Ryung. The older man stepped in front of Papa and took his place. He pushed Gwen’s shoulders gently until she was lying down. Two cold fingers against her wrist checked her pulse. The other, much younger man stepped up to Papa.

“What happened?”

Papa frowned. “It seems she’s lost some of her memories. I was explaining why we were here when suddenly she had trouble breathing.” He stopped, struggling with his own breath. “I’m sorry we’ve become a burden to you, Your Highness.” 

Gwen’s breathing was regaining strength and she was able to concentrate on the conversation. So that was the eighth prince. He was younger than she would have guessed, handsome even, if she had to focus on something other than her lack of breath. 

“Do not think such a thing,” the Eighth Prince replied. “Your presence has greatly improved the household. Lady Gwen will get better with time.”

Papa bowed, obviously grateful at the response. He turned to the woman. “Lady Hae, may I enquire after your own health?”

“Today is a better day,” she smiled, though her pale, drained complexion said otherwise. “Please, don’t worry about me. Keep your thoughts for your daughter.”

The doctor released Gwen’s wrist, satisfied with the improvement of her pulse and breathing. He stood up.

“It was a mild panic attack,” the doctor said calmly to Papa. “If it happens again, she should lie down and focus on her breathing. The incident at the lake seems to have taken a toll on her body. She simply needs rest. In time, her memories and her body will recover.”

Gwen didn’t agree with that statement fully. This body might get better in time, but there was no way memories that didn’t exist would ever return. One by one, the occupants left the room until it was only Gwen and Papa remaining behind. Silence hung in the air. After a moment, Papa sat down on the stool and took Gwen’s hand. 

“I was worried I had lost you,” he whispered. 

Gwen’s eyes fell down to the blanket covering her legs. Things were becoming clearer to her now. This was not a dream and she was no longer Gwen Sinclair from the twenty-first century. Something must have happened. She didn’t know what exactly had occurred or what would happen now, but she was here. And little did this man – known only to her as “Papa” – know that he had indeed lost his daughter. The face may be the same, but the Gwen inside was different. She would try her best to be good to him, at least until she found a way to get back to her own family. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

                                          ********

The next morning, the doctor, along with the Eighth Prince, came back to check on Gwen. The doctor commented that her pulse was stronger and that she seemed well on the road to full health. However, he still insisted on keeping her on bedrest.

Bored with these same walls and too curious about her temporary home, Gwen sat up. If she was going to be here for a while, she might as well get to know it. “I’m fine. Please, don’t make me stay in here all day. The sun and air is good for you, isn’t it?”

The sudden rebelliousness against the doctor’s suggestion did not seem to sit well with any of them. Gwen gave Papa a pleading look. A father couldn’t resist those eyes. He sighed, turning to the doctor. “Perhaps, a little exercise in walking around the grounds would be all right?”

The doctor looked reluctant, but he agreed. “But she shouldn’t overexert herself.”

“Chae Ryung will stay with her,” the Eighth prince ordered. “If you’ll please excuse me, I must meet with my brothers.” He bowed and left, followed by the doctor.

Having heard her name from the hallway, Chae Ryung shuffled quickly inside and over to Gwen, holding out her arms for the latter to balance on as she slid off of the bed. “Are you sure you want to go outside?”

Gwen nodded. “Yes. Perhaps seeing more of this place will help jog my memory.”

Chae Ryung tilted her head. “How can your memory jog?”

Gwen snorted, both at Chae Ryung’s confusion and at herself for the slip of the modern phrase. “Sorry, I just meant, maybe my memories will come back.”

“Oh.” The look on her face was enough to make Gwen laugh again. 

Gwen scolded herself internally. She had to be more careful with her words. Every step was one on thin ice. She couldn’t change who she was, not completely, but she would have to pull back. Chae Ryung, however, felt safe, like a shelter from the rain. With her, Gwen could find answers that might be dangerous to seek elsewhere. Straightening her shoulders, Gwen smiled broadly and took her newest friend’s hand. Chase Ryung grinned brightly at her and guided her out of the room.

[morgana-ren]

My Little Omega

This piece was a birthday commission for the lovely @aizawascumslut​ ! Thank you so much and I really hope you enjoy it! I’m so so sorry it was a little bit late, life has b l o w n lately, but I did make it almost 3,000 words for you!

It is NSFT with A/B/O dynamics, and this is my first time taking a crack at any of that (just kidding NSFT is my specialty) but really, I’ve never done A/B/O before so hopefully I didn’t fuck that up too badly.

Shigaraki really wants to make your birthday as memorable as he can and give you a very special gift that only he can give you.

Shigaraki was never good with birthdays.

Growing up, a fuss was never made about his own, and he had very few people in his life he considered important enough to care. He would get the occasional ‘Happy birthday, young Tomura’ from Master, but even that waned as his age progressed. It was just another day to track his progress; how far he’d come and how much further he needed to go.

He knew that people on the outside had a very different idea. It was a day of celebration, where the person of honor had well wishes and last minute presents thrust into their lap, celebrating that they were born and every subsequent year they’ve been alive. The entire thing seemed asinine to him; what’s the point of cheering for your own existence for doing something as basic as simply being alive?

He didn’t understand it. It made no sense, and frankly, he didn’t care about it in the slightest.

At least until he met you.

You were the one person who he was happy was actually born, one of the few he didn’t hate or ignore entirely, and suddenly he began to grasp why others would throw parties and give gifts to the ones they appreciated and loved. Birthdays had meant nothing because the people around him meant nothing, but that wasn’t the case anymore.

Still, lifelong ignorance of the tradition had led him into a rather awkward situation.

He had no idea what to get you for yours.

It was coming up rapidly, and days fell off the calendar with his constant mental mantra of ‘I’ll deal with it later’, despite the fact that he could never come up with anything that he found to be worthy. Naturally, he had thought of the old standbys like flowers, or chocolate or some generic bullshit that the rest of the waking world uses when they’ve run out of original ideas, but it never felt right. His relationship to you was special. It deserved more than some half-assed and unimaginative throwaway token of love. If he was going to go to the trouble of gifting you something, he wanted it to mean something; both to him and to you.

Time drew on and he got precariously close to the deadline before something finally jumped out at him. It wasn’t until the morning of your birthday that he found the perfect gift to celebrate you and your presence in his life. It dawned on him as he was roused from his sleep earlier than normal by your clawing, needy fingers grasping at him, sweat beading slightly on your forehead. You were whimpering, still passed out but clearly in a state of discomfort. If your body language didn’t clue him in, the overwhelming scent that coats both your body and sheets and stirs his cock certainly did.

Your heat.

It was upon you.

Your sleepless eyes open and focus on him with blown out pupils, face crinkling in pain and realization as he drags himself off the bed. He looks at your cutely pathetic expression and hates how much it rouses him. The desire building at the base of his spine is already conflicting with his daily responsibilities. There was so much he had to tend to today, important things he needed to manage, but his every instinct screams at him to curl over you on the bed, press your legs deep into your chest and knot his little Omega until-

Oh.

And just like that, he knew. He knew exactly what he would give you.

Forcing his primal brain to ignore the irresistible scent you’re producing that’s cloying down his nostrils, he gives you a reluctant goodbye, poorly masked with irritation and stress. His tone is harsh and stern as he tells you to quit being so needy and he needs to go, he has stuff to do. He knows you can’t help it, but seeing you in this state is making it even harder for him to leave and focus on anything but breeding you. He needs to be able to focus and maintain his responsibilities and army, but hard doesn’t even begin to describe it when you slip from beneath the bed sheets, slick already coating the inside of your thighs and dampening the front of your sleep shorts. Fuck, he can smell you, perfect and ripe for breeding and remarking.

Still, he can’t let lust cloud his judgment right now, even though as your alpha, it’s deeply wired into his brain to mate and protect you. He knows he’s leaving you alone and vulnerable, possibly open to attack from another alpha despite his mark deeply etched into your neck. Anyone would be stupid to try, knowing he’d rip them apart with his bare hands, but he still hates the fact he has to leave you. It goes against his every instinct, each painful step of his body echoed by a desperate call of his name or the breathless sigh of ‘alpha’, your own submissive and primal needs overtaking your rational brain.

He’ll finish his business, and quickly. He needed to be here with his omega. It was her birthday, after all.

But as the day dragged on, minutes turn into hours and his own skin begins to itch and crawl. His head screaming and demanding that he return to you, muscles twitching in his legs as he almost pushes himself from the chair against his own will. Needless conversations and endless procession of things he could care less for are occupying his attention; attention that should be nowhere but you. He can practically smell you from across the base. Your scent mixed with his, palpable and tangy in the air. It’s distracting. His cock twitches and he can feel his rut coming.

He needs to get out. Now.

He needs to get to you.

Meeting be damned, he leaves mid sentence. No one is foolish enough to question.

Everyone knows the scent of an Alpha yearning for his mate, and even if they didn’t, they certainly knew the smell of an Omega in a fresh heat.

He practically kicks open the door to his apartments, finding you restlessly curled into a newly made nest of his blankets and sheets, burrowing deep into his scent. You’re whimpering and desperate, hunched over from the pain and head swimming with nothing but thoughts of his knot and his pups. Hypersensitive to his pungent smell already, your attentions are turned toward the door even before he manages to enter. Your slick still visible between your quivering thighs, clutching and trembling as you waste no time pleading for him, his name slurred and urgent on your lips.

“Please- Please… Shigaraki- Alpha!”

You crane your neck for him, already branded and scarred where his jagged teeth initially made contact with the muscle. You reek of his own scent entwined with yours, equally familiar and intoxicating. The way you weakly beg for him, hurting in a way that he and he alone can soothe drives him into a frenzy, every muscle twitching, eager to pounce on his pretty little Omega.

“You want me to take you, don’t you?  Needy little bitch in heat.”

He shrugs his coat off onto the floor, overtaken with lust and moving on pure instinct towards you. You can feel it, the raw, dominating scent practically radiating from him. Quickly, you gather onto your hands and knees and push your ass in the air, prostrating yourself before him. Your hips wiggle desperately, and he chuckles at your lack of shame, too blinded by need for him to find any sense of composure.

He likes it when you present yourself for him, all wet and urgent and craving his touch, and right now, there’s nothing you want more. You want him to fill you and make you whole, cum inside you again and again and give you what you need the most.

“You want my knot? Want me to fill you up with my cum and give you my pups?”

An incoherent cry escapes your throat as you practically fall to the floor, limbs scraping along the ground as you try to quell the pain in your body that’s spreading like fire throughout your limbs and becoming more and more unbearable. Tears bead in your eyes and he can tell it’s hurting you even more than he can truly perceive. His rut began less than an hour ago but already it’s building to unimaginable levels.

You’ve been such a good girl; So strong all day. You need him now, and he needs you, and he’s done waiting. All For One himself couldn’t claw him away from you. He’d rather die.

He inhales a deep breath, taking in your overwhelming scent and holding it in his lungs. Had he not marked you, every alpha within miles would be trekking here, crusading to claim you. You had always been so sweet, so overpowering in the saccharine smell that permeated off of you and onto everything around you.  

But you’re his.

His.

And he’ll kill anyone who even fucking dares to get near you. He’ll rip them to shreds and there will be nothing left but a puddle of gruel.

His own animalistic instincts take over, growling from the low of his throat as he threads his fingers through your hair and yanks you backwards.

“Mine. You’re mine.” He nibbles on your exposed throat, teasing you on top of the mark he’s already gifted you. His thick cock prods on your backside and the needy whine that emanates from your throat doesn’t escape him.

“For your birthday, I’m going to fill you with my cum and knot you, make your belly all swollen and perfect. I’m going to fill you with my pups. You want that, don’t you?”

You nod feverishly, unable to muster anything but an incoherent babble as your neck strains in his grip, your clumsy fingers fumbling with the waist of your sodden shorts. They stick to your soiled legs, refusing to slide down with anything but a frustrated yank. He chuckles at your desperation despite the last semblance of self-control he has being discarded with your ruined clothing.

“On your back. Now.”

You whimper at his authoritative voice, unable to disobey the commanding voice of your alpha. He releases your hair long enough for you to quickly flip yourself over and fall to the floor, spreading your legs open for him. Lithe fingers make quick work of the buttons on his pants and before long, he’s crawling half of the way on top of you with his boxers pulled down over the thick of his thighs.

“Good girl,” His palm crawls up your legs, stopping just short of where you need it most. Your body twitches and you wail, trying to wiggle into his touch. Slick pools on his hand as he drags the pads along the inside of your thigh, lips slacking slightly as he watches your thigh muscles twitch hungrily at his ministrations. He’s barely even touched you but you’re practically sobbing, tears running down your cheeks as you stammer out his name over and over. 

His cock jumps watching you worm around, body glistening with sweat and need, looking up at him through watery lashes and glazed eyes as if he’s the only thing in the world you’ll ever need. It’s enough to send him over the edge, pushing forward on his knees so he looms over you entirely. 

“You’re going to be a good little omega and take my cock now, right?” He taps your core with his hot, thick length. “You’re going to let me re-mark you and fill your belly with my pups?” “Yes, please-“ You nod enthusiastically, shimmying your lower body to try and entice him. “Please mate me, alpha!”

He aligns with your entrance, using the last bit of his strength to hold off ramming into you before he makes you beg. “My cute little bitch in heat. You want me to breed you? Knot you over and over and make your body take my seed?” “Yes!” He anchors his elbows beneath your knees, pressing your legs up into your chest, finally letting himself sink into you. The slick sound that echoes into your ears is just flat out embarrassing but you can’t bring yourself to care. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as he fills you up to the hilt. Finally, his chest comes flush with the back of your legs, bottoming out inside you. His lips brush against yours as he pecks you softly at first, but then more and more ravenous and greedy. He hisses between sloppy, open mouthed kisses, muttering and cursing into your own mouth.

“My omega! Mine, mine!” 

He pulls out only to thrust all the way back in, burying himself inside you once more before he begins his brutal rhythm, betraying just how needy he is for you as well. Your body bounces helplessly on his cock as you keen and cling to him for purchase, steadying yourself on his shoulders. 

You think he’s coming to devour you again but his lips find your marked neck, digging his teeth into the brand over and over again as he rocks powerfully into you until you’re certain that you have no scent left of your own. You don’t mind, you don’t care, you’ll stay in this home forever and raise his pups.

“Yours! Only yours!” 

He groans against your neck and withdraws, bringing his head up to you again. Beckoning him closer, you throw your arms around him and tighten your grip around his neck until he’s forehead to forehead with you. He’s drooling slightly, face turning red with exertion as he repeatedly cants his hips against your dripping pussy over and over again. He finds the wherewithal to kiss you, tongue slipping past your lips and exploring your mouth frantically. You can feel him try to say something but between the molding of your mouths and the pleasure sparking and coiling in your abdomen, you can’t make it out. 

Panting and heaving chests collide between the joining of slippery, sweaty bodies and the punishing pistoning of his hips bruises you as he practically fucks you into the floor. The loud wailing of your wanton moans and his animalistic growls echo off the bedroom walls. The slapping of flesh on flesh joins the cacophony and it all comes together to heighten your pleasure and stimulate you even further. Your beloved alpha, he’s going to fill you soon. He’s going to knot you and breed you over and over until you’re mothering his pups. 

“My good- ah- good little omega. You’re going to be such a great mother-“ His staccato thrusts become slightly more erratic, losing their rhythm ever so slightly, and if you could focus between the twitching of your cunt and the blinding orgasm growing in your gut, you could tell he’s getting close. “I-I can’t wait to watch your belly swell. Your tits will grow nice and fat with milk and- fuck!” 

His moans become breathier and higher pitched, heaving them into your ear. Your own release is nearing soon, every nudge of his pelvic bone against your clit taking you higher and higher to the top. Your pussy pulses with his filthy words, toes flexing and your fingers tensing in his hair, urging him forward. 

“Shigaraki, please-!” 

Your eyes meet for a brief second, his heavy scarlet ones staring glassy and blown out into yours. Your back arches off the floor and his teeth clamp down on the rounds of your neck where your mark is once more, sinking deep into the pliant flesh and claiming you a final time before you feel his cock twitch and with a drawn out and uneven howl, he empties himself inside you. 

With the warm sensation of his white, sticky cum filling your womb and his broken and breathless admissions of pleasure, you find yourself pushed over the edge as well. Your walls flutter and contract around him, squeezing and milking him as he scratches at the floor beneath you in a blinding and borderline overstimulated euphoria. Your entire body convulses and shakes beneath him, face contorting and uncontrolled sobs of bliss exhaling from your chest, slowly turning into fractured little wails and gasping.

When you finally come to, he’s releasing your legs from his hold and gently lowering them to the floor, still laying atop you as his knot plugs you and prevents the loads of cum from escaping. His tender finger brushes your cheek, kissing you softly with a few gentle pecks. You can feel your heat subside, if only temporarily, but you know it’s likely not going away. Heats are never so kind, and it’s only a matter of time until he has to leave again. The thought fills you with panic and your heart begins to race.

You look to him as if to say something, but he just presses his lips to yours once more.

“I know, little omega.” One of his large hands comes down to stroke your belly, feeling the pressure from the seed currently plugged deep into your womb while the other keeps stroking your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s my omega’s birthday, after all, and I want it to be special. I don’t care how long it takes.”

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

Kiss the Girl (Part 5)

~Series Master~

Word Count: 1.5K

~Master~

A/N: I’m not gonna hide it, I’m so glad this series is over 😂 As it progressed I kept feeling stressed and like it will flop, so please let me know what you think and leave feedback!

Previously...

“I’m really sorry for everything, Y/N.” George said as you pulled away, wiping the tears off your face and taking a deep breath.

“Me too, George.” You breathed out, letting yourself calm down. “Wow, I can’t believe-“

“-that we’re both stupid?” George finished for you, wiping some tears from his own eyes.

“The stupidest.” You laughed, looking at him with a smile.

“So, what now?” To answer George’s question, you didn’t know. What was next?

You stayed quiet, looking at George before letting your eyes glance down to your hands and the memory of that feeling from earlier resurfaced. “I don’t know.”

After you and George worked things out yesterday, you never felt better. It was a relief knowing that you had a grasp on your feelings, even if you still trying to figure them out. It did make you nervous however, knowing that before George and you had spoken, you felt something a certain feeling, only you felt it with Fred. Fred who you went to whenever you needed advice, help, a distraction. Fred who had seen every good thing and every bad thing about you and still chooses to stay by your side. You felt dumb, all these years Fred had been right there and you were so focused on his brother that you didn’t pay him any mind.

How oblivious could you be?

“Y/N!” you were walking aimlessly through the halls, your books tucked against your chest as you lost yourself in your thoughts. “Y/N?” An arm fell around your shoulder as you jumped and looked up to see the man in question right next to you, brows furrowed as he looked confused. “You didn’t hear me?”

You swallow and shook your head. “Must have been thinking to hard.” You smiled at him, seeing his face relax as he realized you weren’t ignoring him.

He walked by your side, glancing around before taking your hand and leading you to an empty classroom. Taking your books out your hands, he put both of yours on the table before focused on you. “So, how’d it go?” He asked as you quirked a brow. “Yesterday? With George?” You made an ‘o’ with your mouth as you glanced down, breaking eye contact briefly to realize he was still holding your hand, fingers wrapped around yours gently.

You cleared your throat. “It was good.” You told him as a small smile crossed your lips, pulling the corners up as Fred and you looked at each other.

He waited, assuming you were going to say more but you stayed silent. “That’s it?” He asked. “Just good?”

You put your free hand on his shoulder, raising your brows at his reaction. “Yes, Freddie. Just good.” Taking a deep breath, you let your hand fall off his shoulder, brushing his arm on the way down as he looked at it quickly before looking away to you again. “He told me he loved me.”

Fred’s heart plummeted, but he smiled through it. “Finally, I was wondering when that bloke would do it.” He laughed but you didn’t join him, instead looking at him. Fred’s laughs died out, leaving you both in silence as you squeezed his hand. He cleared his hand, waiting for the release of your hand, the moment he knows you’re George’s, the moment he knows he no longer had a chance. Not that he had much of one to begin with.

“I’m not going to date George.” You whispered, scared of breaking the small silence you’ve built. Fred didn’t know what to say. Could this of been his chance? His mouth opened and closed, words forming on the brink of his tongue but breaking before he could say them. “George and I don’t love each other.” You went on.

“I thought-“ Fred cut himself off, blinking and shaking his head to think.

“We did too. We thought we did too, but we were wrong.” You licked your lips. Fred was beginning to understand. Slowly, but he was understanding. “Do you know how strong crushes are, Freddie?” Fred hesitated, but shook his head. To be honest, he’s never really had a crush, only been utterly and completely in love with someone who wouldn’t love him back. “I had a crush on George for years. I thought he was the one that I wanted to spend my life with.” Again, Fred hid his frown with a smile, one that made his eyes droop and you noticed, rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand, sending goosebumps through both of you. “It hurt me seeing George with Angelina, I’m not going to pretend, but it made me realize something.”

“What’s that?” Fred’s voice was rather quiet, internally trying to figure out why you were telling him this.

“I had someone else who managed to make me feel special and worth being happy with. I already had someone I was spending my life with.” You shrugged. You shrugged as if it was the simplest thing ever. Fred just stood there, his frown etched on his face and he didn’t bother to hide it. “I spend it with you.” Your voice cracked as Fred’s eyes met yours, his body stilling and you doubted yourself. You shouldn’t have been saying anything, Fred might not have felt what you had when you were talking, he might not have felt anything-

Your thoughts were caught off as Fred’s arms went around your waist, pulling you against his body faster than any spell could’ve. You gasped, melting into his embrace quickly as your arms fell around his neck, pulling his head closer to yours. Your noses bumped gently together and when your foreheads touched you closed your eyes. “What are you saying, love?” Fred mumbled and you sighed, pulling away just far enough to see into his eyes and cup his cheek.

“I think…” You trailed off, too afraid of saying those words again. Fred’s heart ached, he wanted you to say it. He needed you to say it.

But he wasn’t going to push you. “It’s okay, Y/N. I think I know what you were going to say.” In truth, he had no clue. You could’ve said anything. You think you needed new friends. You think you needed space. You think you actually were in love with George.

Yet, you didn’t say any of that. Instead, you said, “I think I’m in love with you.” The air between you was tense and you weren’t even sure you said it loud enough for Fred to hear. It wasn’t until Fred smiled, wide enough you to watch his eyes crinkle as he leant in, resuming the close position you were in earlier.

“If it helps Y/N,” He spoke softly and you gasped, feeling his arms hug you closer, “I know I’m in love with you. I have been for years.” And with those words, your lips met.

There was a feeling you had as you and Fred kissed, you both were in sync, the only way you could’ve described it was that it was meant to happen. The two of you were meant to happen.

When your lips separated, your bodies hadn’t and instead of pushing away, you wrapped your arms around his neck again, burying your head between the crook of his neck and shoulder as his hands moved to hug you tightly, his own head dipping to rest in the crook of your own neck and the two of you stay there in each other’s embraces for so long.

“Y/N! There you are! We’re going to be late and I’ve been looking for you- oh.” Your head snapped to the door, seeing Angelina walk in and freeze as she looks at you and Fred. “Am I interrupting something?” She asked, taking a step back towards the door.

You laughed at her, slowly feeling Fred’s hands fall off your back as he chuckled as well. “It’s okay, Angie.” You looked between her and Fred. “Um, I’ll be there in a minute.” She nodded, waving to Fred before sending you a look of excitement and rushing out of the room. You shook your head at your best friend’s actions before looking back at Fred. “I have class.” You said, sticking out your lip to pout.

Fred mocked you, letting his head fall onto your shoulder dramatically before he picked it up and kissed your cheek. “Meet in the common room after?” He asked and you nodded, both of you letting go of each other rather slowly.

“It’s a date.” You agreed and started walking backwards out of the room and looking at Fred.

“Uh, Y/N?” Fred asked as you stopped. “Your books?” He pointed to the table where your stack of books still sat. You rolled your eyes and grabbed them, hugging them tight and you pecked Fred’s lips when he didn’t expect it. Rushing faster out of the door, you heard Fred call out to you. “Excuse you! I need a longer one!” He chuckled, throwing his arms out and wanting you to run back into them.

You paused, throwing him a smile and a wink. “Common Room, after class. Then we’ll see what happens.” He watched you disappear, standing still with a smirk on his face as he gathered his own books and started walking the school with no destination in mind, just wanting to live in bliss for a little while more. He ended outside, feeling the sun hit his skin as he sighed.

Fred smiled to himself momentarily, breathing in the crisp air as he leaned against the wall beside him. After years of pining watching your love towards his twin brother go unrequited, Fred Weasley did it. Fred Weasley was finally able to kiss the girl of his dreams.

TAGS ARE CLOSED!!

SORRY IF I MISSED ANYONE!

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[official-weasley]

The Extraordinary Dragon (Part 6/6)

A fluffy story about Charlie training a dragon with a sad and mysterious past.

A/N: I am so happy with this story and since it's a story of a dragon, I never thought you guys would like to so much but I am glad that you enjoyed reading it. Thank you so much for everyone who liked it and comment on it! And thank you again to @am-i-space @madelineorionswan & @the-al-chemist for naming the dragons for me 💙

Warnings: Nothing but the cute conclusion to this story 💙 Word Count: 2,264

“Asterin, what did we talk about? You have teeth, you can chew.” I shook my head, sitting on the ground a few meters away from the Hebridean Black.

It’s been 3 months since I came back from Scotland.

When I read that letter, I needed to sit down and just breathe for a minute. Every second I spent with Asterin to that point rolled in front of my eyes and everything started to make sense.

The fact that she didn’t want to eat anything but chicken blood and brandy. That MacFusty’s were curious why she acted as if she didn’t have any teeth. Why she was so afraid and needed such a long time to get used to the new environment. The fact that she hurt me when I levitated a rock.

She was merely 5 months old when they found her. A dragon that young is supposed to be with its mother – barely even starting the blood and brandy diet. Their teeth are usually ready for solid food around 6-7 months and there is a law to never transport a dragon younger than 10 months if it can be avoided. They are either still too attached to their mother or they are with the other dragonlings.

A dragon that thinks it's 5 months old would still cuddle with its mother at night, eat the food she would provide, and play with its siblings. Being transported to the other side of Europe, meeting so many new people, and staying alone in a habitat suited for a 1-year-old dragon is not the right way to approach the situation.

Being in such a big enclosure with no one she knew around her was very stressful for Asterin. That’s why she ran into the forest the first night – she tried to hide.

And when we thought she attacked me, it was her trying to play. Since her mindset is stuck at 5-months-old she isn’t aware that she is 3 times the size she was back then and that trying to jump on me can be fatal and not being cute and playful.

The second I came back, we started to change her habitat. We made it dragonling friendly by putting in lots of things to chew on, some toys we use to play and train with the younger dragons, a big tire in which she can sleep and Matthew and Jim helped me made a wooden house that can house an adult Hebridean Black because baby dragons like to feel safe and have a feeling their mother is by their side, so having a house in which she can hide and feel snug seemed like the best idea.

We asked Marcus and John to come and stay with us for a week so that Asterin could be around as many people she knows to make her as comfortable as we possibly can.

After two days of sniffing around and starting to play with her toys, we could already see progress bigger than I’ve made in 2 months before we found out what happened to her. She became less fearful, she didn’t dig her claws in the ground anymore and she became playful.

She might be over a year old and is halfway to her adult size but she acts like Hephaestus – the Hebridean Black I got the chance to meet while I was staying with the MacFusty’s in Scotland. She jumps around, awkwardly tries to fly, and is fun to be around.

When I got back, I sat down with the healers that examined her. They told me that due to the damage the hit caused her, her brain will never properly develop. In her mind, Asterin will always be a 5-month-old dragon. They told me everything that is suited for a dragon her mind age and I spent the next 3 days coming up with a plan – how to train her, how to feed her, how to try and tame her, and what to do with her habitat.

We needed about a week to finish everything with the help of other dragonologists and both Marcus and John MacFusty. I asked two researchers to observe her from afar as she gets used to her newly decorated home and to see how she responds to things so they could report back to me to see if we would need to make any changes.

They were over the roof working with her because none of them ever had a case like this. None of us had, truth be told. Matthew still couldn’t believe that that can happen. Marcus and John felt bad that they missed such an important piece of evidence and on the last day of their stay went to Asterin and apologized for mistreating her.

I told them that it’s not their fault and that it was more than evident that they wanted to help her and put her in the right hands.

I have been with her every day since I came back and I can’t express how proud I am of her. She hasn’t hurt me, she hasn’t even roared in my face once since I started treating her like a dragonling. I couldn’t be happier that she was assigned to me and that I have a chance not only to work with a Hebridean Black but to work with such a special one.

She might have a sad past but since she is growing every day, is as healthy as a dragon her age can be and she is showing progress every day, I dare to say she is going to be just fine with us.

After the researchers recorded her behavior and saw that she is doing okay and as the healers gave the green light that everything else is fine, I started working with her. Of course, I am taking a completely different approach than I did before and right now I am trying to teach her how to eat anything other than the liquids we have been giving her so far.

It’s not that we can’t provide that much chicken blood and brandy for her but even though her brain doesn’t see how big she is getting, her body needs solid food to grow into a big healthy dragon. Every day after work, I go to the infirmary where I work with a healer and a researcher and we are trying our best to come up with a plan on how we could trick someone who thinks it's 5 months old to eat a steak.

14 days ago we tried mincing the meat and putting it in her liquids. Asterin was hesitant because of the smell at first but the second day she swallowed it. We did that for a week slowly adding more meat and less blood and brandy. Last week, we started giving her pieces of deer meat that are small enough for her to swallow whole since a 5-month-old dragon isn’t supposed to know how to use its teeth fully yet.

Today is the first day that I tried and gave her a proper steak. The researchers thought it would be good if she gets used to the taste and texture of the food she is supposed to eat. I have been trying for two hours and the best I got was her playing with the steak.

“Asterin, don’t play with your food. It’s not a toy. You’re supposed to eat it.” I put my hands in front of my face, expecting a steak thrown my way any second now.

She looked up at me as I spoke, the steak that was half in her mouth now fell to the ground. I couldn’t help but chuckle, she was adorable.

“What’s it going to be? Are you going to eat it or should I?” I smirked.

Saying that gave me an idea.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes, Asterin.” I got up and waved at her as I did every time I left her enclosure to let her know we will see each other again.

I went to the Sanctuary kitchen and asked one of the cooks to make me a steak. Perhaps if she would see me eat it and chew on it, she might copy my behavior. That is how she learned how to roll over and jump in the air. The latter wasn’t such a good idea because now she likes to jump all the time and sometimes shakes the ground so much that I fall backward.

I thanked the cook that made the steak for me and hurried back to Asterin’s habitat.

“I’m back. Did you miss me?” I smiled.

Asterin was sitting on the ground, her tail playfully moving around, her head tilted in curiosity about what I brought her.

“This isn’t for you. It’s lunch for me. Now let me show you how to eat a steak.” I sat back down to where I was before I left and took the steak from the plate with my hand. “And remember, Asterin, you have teeth, you can chew just like I can.”

I bit into the steak as hard as I could and tore away a piece.

“See…not…that…hard,” I said while chewing. “Now you try.” I pointed at her raw piece of meat with my steak.

Asterin stared at me for a few seconds more before looking down at her steak. She looked back up at me as I took another bite and back down. She lowered her head and sniffed the steak then did the whole routine 2 more times.

“It’s delicious, Asterin. Come on, eat with me.” I encouraged her.

If she could narrow her eyes, she would. I could see her brain being hard at work trying to figure out what she is supposed to do but I understood that she needed time because nobody sane would give a 5-month-old dragon a steak of that size.

Much to my surprise, Asterin picked the steak up with her front teeth and lifted her head abruptly. I thought the steak was going to fly out of the enclosure but she held on to it.

“That’s it. Good girl, Asterin! Now put it in your mouth and chew.” I took another bite of my meal and slowly and exaggeratedly chewed to show her how it’s done.

Asterin slowly put the entire steak inside her mouth and tried chewing on it. She shook her head as if she got confused about what was going on and let the meat fall from her mouth to the ground.

“Okay, that wasn’t bad. You did great! Now repeat the gesture. Pick it up again, Asterin.” I put my plate down and clapped a few times to let her know she is making progress.

Asterin listened to me and picked up the steak again. She threw it on the ground a few more times but every time she chewed a little longer.

After 5 tries she didn’t stop chewing on the steak and suddenly I heard a swallowing sound.

“Did you…did you just eat the steak?” I asked astonished. It’s not like I didn’t believe that she could do it but I didn’t dare to think that she was going to progress so quickly.

“You did it, Asterin!” I stood up carefully not to startle her too much even though I wanted to burst from excitement and jump around.

“I don’t even know where to begin to tell you how proud I am of you!” I walked toward her not even caring if she does something to me. I wanted to show her that what she just accomplished is a big deal and that the behavior is very much desired and encouraged.

“If you continue to eat like this, you will be able to fully transition to deer meat and admit it, it was more delicious than chicken blood and brandy.” I laughed and with a bowed head approached her.

I was now so close that if I would extend my hand I would be able to pat her. Without thinking twice about it, I offered her my hand so she could sniff it and let her know that I mean no harm. She did so immediately and huffed.

“I know. My hand smells like cooked meat which doesn’t smell as delicious to you as to me.” I giggled.

I took a deep breath knowing that Matthew would kill me if he saw me stand so close to Asterin – making progress or not – and touched her rough skin and rubbed a few circles on it.

“You ate your first steak, Asterin. I am so proud. The progress we have made in the past few weeks is admirable.” I whispered to her.

She lowered her head and what I think she wanted to do was rub her head against my side but because she is so big and so much heavier than me she pushed me to the ground.

I started laughing when I saw her confused expression. I know she didn’t expect me to fall to the ground and probably thinks that I am the weakest human not being able to handle her friendly gesture.

I got up, dusted myself, and approached her again.

“The next thing we work on is to make you realize how big you are.” I chuckled.

Asterin replied with a jump in the air and hurried to get one of her balls, indicating she wants to play.

“You want to catch the ball? You got it!” I clapped my hands together and ran after her, feeling like the luckiest dragonologist in the world.

[ilguna]

Anteric - Chapter Nine (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing. MURDER PLOT, MURDER, SUICIDE MENTION SEVERAL TIMES.

wc; 9.3k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

The next four days follow the same nightmarish pattern of facing your fears early in the morning, and then wielding a gun or a knife in the evening. You think that Caspian and Laurel are really testing fate by allowing a group of unstable teenagers near anything dangerous. 

Sure, all of you have to be prepared to be able to wield a gun and defend yourselves in hard situations. But you wouldn’t say that it’s the brightest idea ever, too. You’re not entirely convinced that some of your fears correspond to shooting directly after. The only exception in this case, would be the one where you’ve watched Finnick die.

Despite all of this, you think that you’re beginning to get a hang of the fear-facing, to the point where you’ve managed to increase your time to five minutes. While everyone else works hard to make their time smaller and smaller, you’ve been trying to go against the current to make yourself look less suspicious.

You’ve figured that it’s easier to calm yourself down once you realize which fear you’re in. It’s only the four that repeat themselves, being buried alive, watching someone bleed out and die, and being trapped in an enclosed space with spiders. The easiest of them being buried alive, mainly because it’s not as hands-on.

You’re not forced to save someone, drowning in their blood as you try to cover wounds that will only become insignificant in the end. As more and more appear on the other’s body, screwing your focus and making you forget that you’re in a simulation. And you aren’t aware of the fact that you have to keep moving around for as long as you can without being covered in the spiders.

With the coffin, there’s no imminent danger, no real threat is hanging above you, besides the sure. Sure, you’re being buried alive, the dirt will eventually end up suffocating you. Yet, it’s not chaotic. You’re not fighting anything, you’re just forced to sit in darkness, feign some fright for a while, and then you’re free. If you were being buried without the coffin, that might be a different story. But that isn’t your fear, the coffin is a detail for a reason.

The others don’t seem to be as lucky as you are. They’re stuck in the same loop of facing their fears, and not knowing what to do after. At least you can say that your nightmares aren’t making your skin crawl anymore. For them, they shake when someone asks what they’ve gone through, and wake up screaming at night.

However, there are a few of you who are outshining the others. And it seems to be the people who hadn’t done too well during the first stage of initiation that’re getting the hang of this one. Which is a shame, because their progress isn’t really going to pay off until the final stage, when they beat the rest.

The few that you’ve noticed are Sydney, Nestor and Cass. They act a little differently than the others do. Sydney and Nestor have always been laid back. You can’t really say the same for Cass, since you don’t know her as well. But they definitely have a different attitude when they go into the room, compared to someone like Thyme.

Then there are the people who are naturally good or bad at the simulations, and it’s typically hard to tell which is which. Like Laurel told you, your friends are close to the twenty minute range, and as far as you know, you’re the only outlier. You can always time people on your watch, but it’s not the same, not really.

Anyway, it’s been about four days since you’ve so much as glanced at Finnick in front of Thyme. It was a smart move to make, because she might have started off stiff, but she’s officially cooled down. She’ll still glare at you occasionally, then again she was doing that before the party, so it’s not a surprise or a change of routine.

Because of that, the only times you’ve gotten to talk to Finnick was in bits and pieces when Thyme wasn’t around. Which was practically never, considering that she attached to him like a parasite and doesn’t let go. You’d hardly be able to get a full sentence in before she came around again. Laurel wasn’t much help either, she didn’t give you any accidental golden chances either.

The more time passed, the more anxious you got over the fact that Finnick might have been thinking that you were backtracking. You were making no real effort to get alone time, not to mention you felt like your grasp was slipping. You said so yourself, you had Finnick in your hold. And leaving him with Thyme for four days all alone might change things.

In order to finally ease the stress that’s been eating away at you, you went ahead and sealed the leap of faith. It’s taken you four days to finally come to terms with the fact that you have to tell Finnick that you’re Divergent, whether you like it or not. You can tell yourself that it’s an unnecessary risk, and that he might already have some biased ideas somehow. But the truth is, you won’t know until you try.

A slight problem is you didn’t get to invite Finnick to the chasm before Laurel called you into the fear room. So, you had to ask Laurel for a favor, which was to call Finnick in next and send him through the second door in the room that will bring him to the dark hallway. It’ll be completely out of the way of Thyme, you won’t have to worry about accidentally running into her on the way to the chasm.

Fortunately for you, today you had to be locked in a coffin underground, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. You hope that the same goes for Finnick, because you really would like him to be in the right headspace before you go ahead and dump your biggest secret onto his shoulders. You don’t want it to end up being the last straw that does it.

You twist your wrist towards your face, making the watch light up in the hallway. If you’ve been tracking the time correctly, it’s coming in fifteen minutes. You should have another five to go, and even that might be an overestimation. 

You yawn, cracking your knuckles before getting to your feet. The last time you jumped out at Finnick from the wall, you scared him pretty bad, so you’re not entirely sure if there’s a way to get around it this time. There’s no lantern for you to steal from the wall, not that you’re sure if you’ll be able to do that, anyway.

About a minute or so later, the door finally opens. You emerge from the wall, standing off to the side of the hallway with your arms crossed. There’s just enough light from the room to light you up, so Finnick spots you easily. 

He has one hand reached up and placed over the spot where Laurel injects the serums. For a second, his eyebrows draw in like he’s confused, but then a smile slowly comes onto his face. You lean around Finnick to thank Laurel, she’s already holding a hand up, and then shoos you.

You hold out your hand for Finnick to take, and you watch as he takes it. You pull him along, he lets the door slip shut behind him with a gentle click. The hallway falls back into a pitch black, and you’re left to guide Finnick. You remember when it was the other way around, with you relying on him to warn you of where you step.

“What are we doing today?” he asks, “Another secret party?”

At the thought of your confession, an ache starts in your chest. If only it were something fun, “No, I think I’m going to tell you everything today.” With the exception of one thing, one little thing that doesn’t exactly have any connection to the blackmailing problem.

“Oh.” he says, you’re not sure you’d have anything to say in response to that, either.

The hallway finally splits into two, you head off to the right. It’s only a hundred or so more feet when you begin to hear the rushing water. You have to swallow to ease the growing tension in your throat. Finnick should be fine, you’ve known him a long time. He’ll give you a chance to explain yourself before judgement.

At least, you hope he will.

You let go of his hand in the doorway, continuing to your spot on your own. To the same place you stood last time you spoke to him. This time, you don’t lean against the railing. Knowing you, you’ll get caught up in the conversation and end up falling off backward.

Finnick resumes his spot across from you on the wall.

You have to remind yourself to take deep breaths, “I need you to listen all the way before you make any judgement calls, okay?”

You don’t want to look at him, this will be so much easier if you don’t look.

“Okay,” he agrees.

You know where to start, you’ve rehearsed this exact moment several times, thought up every single possibility. You found the best way to explain why, all you have to do is start speaking.

You swallow.

“It starts with the aptitude test,” you begin, eyes focused on the toe of your shoes. Is this too far back? No, it’s where the root lies, “Normally people get a straightforward result, but I got inconclusive.” you have to look at his face, it’s neutral besides his eyebrows, “Which means that I didn’t place for just one faction, I placed for three. Abnegation, Erudite and Dauntless.”

You pause for a moment, letting him process this. You feel like you’re speaking too slowly, he isn’t a baby. But this is new to him, right?

“How?” he asks, the confusion is setting in.

“Um,” you're hyper aware of your shaking hands, “Well, the choices in the aptitude test are supposed to eliminate a faction each stage. The cheese was for Amity, and the knife was for Dauntless. I chose the knife, so that’s a Dauntless oriented response. But I was vulnerable to the dog, which is Erudite thinking. Then I threw myself in front of the dog, bringing out Abnegation.

“Candor was ruled out when I didn’t tell the truth, and Erudite and Dauntless were brought up again when I posed some stupid question and stood up for myself. And technically it wasn’t a conditioned Abnegation response, either.” You lace your fingers together, “I hold equal aptitude for Abnegation, Dauntless and Erudite. The term for it is Divergent.”

Now you hold your breath, watching the gears turn in his head. You’ll be patient, let him come to conclusions on his own. Maybe he’ll suddenly solve the Thyme problem on his own, only allowing you to fill the gaps. Maybe he won’t, and he’ll demand more information.

The silence is overwhelming, “My legal result is Abnegation.”

His eyes flicker to you, “Why do you say Divergent as if it’s a bad thing?”

You think you’ll cry, “Because I can be killed for it if people find out.” 

Finnick understands, you can tell by the way he goes rigid, “You’re not kidding?”

“No.” 

Please don’t start running. Please don’t have ill intentions. Please say that you’ll keep it a secret.

“Okay, I can understand why you’ve been like this,” he slumps slightly, a frown coming over his face.

You know what he’s thinking, “Finnick, don’t think that I don’t trust you,” you move forward a little, “I don’t…” you take another deep breath, “A lot of people know right now, and my worst nightmare has already happened.”

He’s still watching you, “Like what?”

A metallic taste spreads over your tongue, “You asked if Thyme said anything to me, and I said yes,” your throat is closing, “You remember that?”

He nods.

“Well, when our families came to visit, Mox and his small family came and visited me,” Finnick raises his eyebrows, he must’ve missed them, “Just before they left, Mox told me that Caspian knows I’m Divergent, and he’ll look out for me. Then he told me that these two stages of initiation are going to be easy, because of the way my brain works so I need to be careful not to get caught, whatever.

“I went to leave the area that we talked in, and Thyme had overheard everything.” Your eyes find Finnick’s face again.

And he is bright red, eyebrows turned down, “What did she say?”

“She said that if I don’t stay away from you, she’ll tell everyone I’m Divergent.”

He doesn’t move for a long moment, jawline becoming more obvious each time he grits his teeth. His eyes cast towards the path you have to take to get away from the chasm.

You feel like crying, this is the exact reaction you were looking for. Anger because the person that’s been playing sweetheart and hanging off his arm has secretly been blackmailing you for a week.

“Is that all?”

No.

“Yes.”

There’s something else that you need to tell him.

“Does she know that they’ll kill you for it?”

You shrug slightly, “It’s Thyme we’re talking about, do you really think she’d care about that?”

“Probably not.” he mumbles.

You scuff your shoe against the rocks, pressing your lips together. You should tell him, do it real quick to get it out of the way. You’ve already spoken about so much, what’s one more?

When you open your mouth, the words lodge themselves in your throat, refusing to move. You settle for sighing instead.

He catches this, raising his eyebrows, “What’s wrong? Is there something else?” 

Tell him.

“No, I told you everything.”

Finnick doesn’t lessen his gaze. 

Just tell him you like him.

You smile, he doesn’t smile back, continuing to wait.

You’ve told him so much already, what’s one more?

“Come on, (Y/n),”

What if he doesn’t feel the same?

Silence.

It’s a chance you have to take.

You clear your throat.

No, you’re going to ruin recently established peace.

“I just wanted to apologize for the final fight, is all.”

What a lie.

Finnick doesn’t believe you, he turns his head to the side a little.

You shrug again, “I didn’t want to bring it up because I don’t want to bring up things in the past if you aren’t bothered by them.” you play with your fingers, trying to figure where to go next. Then you realize that there is a problem that you left unsaid, “Ah, right, I remember now.

“Besides the obvious reason why I was mad at you, I realized something during the fight which made it a whole lot worse,” you rub the back of your neck, trying to ease the growing tension, “You--um--you see me as an equal, right? Cause for a second, I was convinced you thought of me as lesser and that doesn’t… sit right with me…”

Finnick’s got his eyebrows screwed in, “An equal?”

“Yeah, like we’re on the same level ground and I’m not in some ditch or whatever.”

His face twists, “I’m sorry, but shouldn’t this had been in the meaningless conversation the other day?”

You open your mouth, eyebrows in. Once he starts laughing, you snap your mouth shut.

“I’m kidding, of course we’re on the same page.” he grins, showing his teeth, “I mean, if we weren’t, we wouldn’t be friends, would we?”

You purse your lips, “I guess not.”

“You guess?” he laughs again, “Anyway, I don’t care about the fight. You won fair and square, even though you were definitely hyped up on adrenaline.”

You smile.

Finnick eyes the hallway for a moment, the humor slowly fading from his face, “So what are we going to do about Thyme?”

Your heart twists when you hear the word ‘we’, “There’s no real way to get her to shut up, Finnick. Unless we somehow make her get cut during stage three.” you clench your teeth, “All my ideas have been permanent and illegal.”

He nods, “I can see why.”

“It’s a lifelong thing she can hold over me.”

“You can always tell Caspian.”

“He already knows,” you lean your head back and watch as Finnick looks at you, “You know when you caught me that morning getting ready super early?”

Finnick nods.

“Yeah, well, the leaders of Dauntless and our trainers will eat breakfast way before everyone else so that they can discuss initiation and stuff. So I got Caspian away from them and told him about Thyme, and he said he can’t help me anymore because Thyme accused him of interfering so he really needs to back off.”

You crack a smile, “Actually, he told me that I should tell you the truth about everything and have you work with me to find some solution. The problem is that he can’t know what I want to do with her, and he told me not to be too brash but it’s not like I have a choice.”

“We,” Finnick corrects, “It’s not like we have a choice.”

You give him a soft smile, “Right, we.”

Finnick stretches, arms above his head, letting out a groan, “I’m going to go ahead and guess that your plan includes murder.”

“Honestly, it was my first thought when she made me agree to it on Visiting Day.”

“And I don’t really see any other option besides beating her up and throwing her to the streets, but she’ll just tell the factionless that you’re…” he doesn’t say the word, eyebrows furrowing, “...and that would be the end of it.”

“Yup.”

He makes a face, “We should probably think it over some more.”

“That works, I guess,” you check your watch, thirty minutes have passed since the beginning of the conversation, “Alright, you go ahead and go back, I’ll follow after you in a couple.”

“Sure,” he says.

You expect him to start into the hallway immediately, but he comes towards you instead. You lift your head from the wall, face twisting in confusion. He holds a hand out for you, you go ahead and take it, not entirely sure what he wants. Is he going to bring you somewhere?

No, he pulls you into him for a hug. His arms wrap around your back, underneath your arms. Immediately, your face feels like it’s on fire, heart pounding in your ears. It takes you a moment, but you hug him back, placing your ear against his chest, closing your eyes. The last time you hugged was before the Choosing Ceremony, when you weren’t sure if you’d see him ever again.

Your thought from earlier boomerangs back, much louder and begging this time for you to tell him that you have a crush on him. That you’ve had a crush on him for years, you just couldn’t say so before because of Abnegation ideals and how taboo a relationship is.

You can’t though. You’ve said too much today, told him everything on your list. This confession, the very last one, is not as significant as the rest. You can tell him some other time.

Finnick gives you a gentle squeeze, “Thank you for trusting me.” he murmurs.

You swallow the tightness in your throat, “I’ve always trusted you more than the rest.”

He moves away first, a smile on his face, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Yeah.” Why are you dizzy all of a sudden?

He leaves now, all you can do is place your hands on your head, fingers interlaced as you turn to the railing. There’s tears in your eyes, and you don’t even realize it until they’re rolling down your cheeks. You sniff, and then huff out a laugh, bringing your hands back down to wipe them off.

You and Finnick are okay.

It’s a thought that keeps running through your head over the next hour. You’re okay, there’s no need to worry anymore. And he thinks that your problems are his again, it’s a good sign. The hug really topped it off, but it’s also the thing that broke you. He must’ve known that you needed one.

You loosely wander back to the dorm, having had enough of the chasm for one day. You’re more than sure that everyone is done facing their fears now, so it should be safe for you to come back without any suspicion. When you reach the door, you softly push against the wood and slip through the crack that’s barely big enough.

You expect to see everyone off in their usual corners, maybe a few people napping because the daytime is the only time when they can sleep anymore, maybe a few people missing. You’re pleasantly surprised to see that everyone is gathered together around the chalkboard that had given the first stage’s rankings.

Caspian is standing within the half-circle, his eyes follow you on your way in, “Now that (Y/n) has finally made it, I can show you.”

A few people glance over their shoulders, none of them dirty looks except for Thyme. You ignore her, and Finnick, going to stand on the side of Blaire that’s away from them, as if he’s some sort of shield. In classic Blaire behavior, he slings his arm over your shoulder.

“Are these the rankings for stage two?” you ask.

“Progress report,” he says, “Caspian’s showing us where we’re at so that we’re prepared for stage three and how badly we need to improve before then.”

An uneasiness grows in your stomach, heart skipping. Everyone is about to see where you’re at, and how far ahead you are. And with Thyme’s accusation of Caspian interfering, this is not going to look good.

Your teeth sink into your cheek, right into the wound you carved up earlier when you were with Finnick. The warm taste of blood crosses over your tastebuds again, the pain sharp.

Caspian doesn’t say another word as he reaches up to hang the board on the designated nail. He stands in the way for a moment, blocking the view. Then, he shoots you a look before stepping aside, a silent warning that you are not as undercover as you’re supposed to be.

And he’s so right.

Your name is the first one on the list.

Your breath hitches, body rigid, eyes glued to the board, blood running from your face. Three minutes and forty-five seconds. This must be your time from the first fear simulation, and you are so incredibly grateful that your two minute one hadn’t been put up there. It would be a lot worse, then. Suddenly, the predator would become prey.

The person in second is, unsurprisingly, Finnick. He has nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds. There is a five minute gap between you two, and it is so significant that it makes your stomach twist.

Someone looks at you, you think it’s Eytelle. Judging by the corner of your eye, she is incredibly angry, compared to Blaire, who has a tight grip on your shoulder, shaking it to bring you back to life. You think it’s praise, you think that he’s excited for you.

His name is in the third slot.

You look past Blaire, eyes finding Finnick for comfort. He’s already looking at you, his lips are pressed together. Thyme could easily mistake this as displeasure towards you, good. To you, this looks like worry. You told him you had to be careful, and this does not look like careful.

When you look at Thyme, you can see her arm loop around his, pressing her body into his side. She doesn’t speak very loud, only enough for Finnick to hear. Unfortunately for her, in Abnegation you’re all used to the silence and working around it so that you don’t disturb the others.

“She’s cheating.”

You elbow Blaire slightly, trying to get his arm off of you, “Laurel warned you about accusing me of cheating already.”

The silence in the room is overcome by the blood rushing in your ears, body heating up. You’re tired of people saying that you’re cheating, Thyme, Ameer, now Eytelle. Is it so hard to believe that you can be in first place without cheating? That you don’t need help to get there?

Thyme looks over at you, face twisting until her mouth drops and her eyes widen. She looks at Caspian, shaking her head, “I didn’t even say anything!”

“Except you did.” Cass says, she’s standing further back than the rest of you. Which means she’s got a clear view of Thyme, “You mouthed it.”

“But I didn’t say it, there’s a difference.”

“So you’re admitting to it?” Caspian asks.

This is when Thyme pales, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Come with me.” Caspian starts towards the door, “Tomorrow’s a day off, don’t waste it.”

Thyme shoots you a nasty look on the way out.

The tension in the room doesn’t have time to grow, Blaire throws his arm back over your shoulder. You have to force a smile before you look at him, “Congrats.”

“Congrats to me?” Blaire’s laughing, the circle is beginning to form. They’re probably going to want to celebrate, “You’re in first!”

“I’m pretty sure (Y/n) meant to say, ‘Congrats for beating Lennox’.” Sydney laughs too, she’s in sixth, her hand is intertwined with Nestor, who holds the same smile. He’s placed in fifth.

Lennox makes a warning face at her, it’s playful. You can tell because he can’t keep the expression for very long before smiling. Lennox is in fourth. 

Trink, who’s in eighth place, is bouncing next to him, face suddenly lighting up, “Oh! That means that Lennox owes you his twenty points!”

Lennox lets out a groan, “No, don’t remind her!”

In order of first place to last, the list goes as follows: You, Finnick, Blaire, Lennox, Nestor, Sydney, Cass, Trink, Ameer, Mirza, Thyme, Allio, Eytelle, and Horace. The rankings from the first stage have definitely flipped. Allio was first, now he’s last. Eytelle’s isn’t all that surprising either, she nearly got cut on the last stage too. She was saved by Amos and Ossie.

There are fourteen of you. If Dauntless only accepts the top ten, then that means Thyme, Allio, Eytelle and Horace will immediately be cut. Which would partially solve the Thyme problem, only she would still know you’re Divergent and would be able to tell people later on,

When you look at Finnick, you think that he’s working on the same thought process.

“Well?” Sydney says, “Hand the points over, loser.”

Lennox punches her arm, “Shut--”

“Hey, Lennox,” you nudge him with your elbow, “You can just pay me five every month so I don’t run you dry.”

He stops, raising his eyebrows, “Are you sure?”

You shrug, “How else are we supposed to get celebratory tattoos today?”

Ameer and Mirza let out a whoop, leading the way out. They placed ninth and tenth, you’re not entirely sure if you'd be celebrating if you were them, but then again, they aren’t going to get cut. If they keep this up for the final stage, they’ll be golden. 

As expected, there are a couple of people that stay back, namely Eytelle and Allio, who are giving you dirty looks like Thyme normally does. Horace trails behind Ameer and Mirza since they’re refusing to leave him behind. You have to grab onto Finnick to make sure that he doesn’t stay here, either. 

“Hey Blaire!” You call, making him turn, “Finnick was wondering who you think the hottest leader out of all the factions is. He was thinking about Haymitch.”

“(Y/n)--?” Finnick strangles out, giving you an incredulous look. You flash him a smile, pushing him forward into Blaire.

“Really? I was thinking Mags.” Blaire snorts.

--

Even though it was risky, you and Finnick went ahead and got matching tattoos like a couple of idiots. It was a long process of trying to figure out a middle ground. You’d suggest something like the Abnegation logo and Finnick would look at you disgusted. Then he would suggest something vulgar, and it would be your turn to look at him like he was doing it on purpose.

Since it took a while, by the time you two made the decision, Blaire, Sydney and Nestor were the only three that were still willingly sitting with you. Lennox and Trink had disappeared sometime during the middle, Ameer, Mirza and Horace went to play a dangerous game near the Pit drop off. And Cass got distracted when she realized that her blonde hair was perfect for dying.

You can’t take all the credit for the tattoo idea, it really stemmed from Sydney and Nestor when they showed you theirs. If they stand side by side, with Nestor on the right and Sydney on the left, and lift up their shirts, they have a flutter of butterflies across their ribs that make a whole picture.

So, you and Finnick decided to get something like that, but a lot simpler. No color or shading, just the lining of two hands holding out their pinkies to make a promise. Yours is on your left shoulder, and Finnick’s is on his right. It can’t really be seen unless you force your shirt over, so there’s not a lot of risk.

Unless Finnick walks around shirtless, and someone catches a glimpse of your tattoo and Thyme somehow finds out and puts two and two together. However, you don’t see that happening any time soon. As far as you’re concerned, she’s completely oblivious to the planning that’s going on between you two.

You tie your hair in a knot at the back of your head, desperate to get it off the back of your neck. Next to you, Trink is twirling her hair around her finger like she always is. She’s also leaning into Lennox more than she usually does, so something definitely happened between them yesterday when they left.

Lennox seems to be making an effort to stick close to her, too. This morning, they had sat next to each other at breakfast, glued to the hip and refused to let anyone sit in the middle. It makes you think that they’ve officially started dating, but they’re not acting like it. Not like Sydney and Nestor.

Your eyes drag over to Finnick and Thyme, they’re sitting on the other side of the dining hall. She sits across from him, body turned so that she isn’t facing you. Finnick, on the other hand, has made sure that he can see you from where he sits. He’s not eating his lunch anymore, his cheek is cupped in one hand.

And his other is on his shoulder, where his new tattoo is.

You sit up a little straighter, wondering how long he’s been waiting for you to see. You and him decided to make a sign for if one wants to talk to the other, so that you two don’t have to keep waiting to talk to each other after fear facing. He suggested that putting your hand over the tattoo would be it, a telltale sign to go to the chasm after whatever you’re done doing.

Finnick briefly glances over, you go ahead and place your own hand over your shoulder, giving him a gentle nod before looking back at your friends. You need a way to get out, you’ve been sitting here, done with your lunch for a while. You’re sure that they’ll understand.

You place your hands onto the table, getting ready to push yourself up. This immediately catches Trink’s attention, she slowly tears her eyes from whatever Blaire is talking about, to look at you. Her eyebrows are raised, mouth parted.

“I’m going to disappear for a while,” you say, “I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Trink pouts for a moment, “Can you be back before dinner this time? I thought we could all sit around and play some Dauntless games.”

You shrug with one shoulder, “Sure, no problem. I’ll keep track of the time on my watch.”

She smiles, “Thank you.”

You say your goodbyes to the others, punching Blaire’s shoulder on the way out. 

You’re the first to escape the dining hall, taking your time when you walk to the chasm. There’s no question that you’ll be back before dinner. Only in your dreams will you be able to hang around Finnick for longer than thirty minutes at a time, anymore. On the off-chance that you stay behind for a while, Sydney and Nestor know where to find you.

You get halfway down the long hallway that drops off at your corner, when there’s a rapid sound of footsteps behind you. You raise your eyebrows, a smile on your face when you spot Finnick running at you. He holds his hands out, making a noise that’s a mix of a snarl and a snort.

You get it, you’re supposed to run away.

You play along, running down the hallway in the dark. It’s dangerous, you could trip and fall. But then again, your whole life has been dangerous since the moment you finalized your decision of joining Dauntless. On your first day you jumped from a moving train to a rooftop! You hung from the chasm bridge by your fingers! You ziplined face first off of a building! You’re Divergent, for fuck’s sake!

At this point, you’re beginning to think that danger could really be your middle name.

Your guys’ laughter echoes off the stone walls, you can see your little dip for the chasm coming up, preparing to throw yourself against the wall to avoid Finnick. He’s much quicker than you, his hands clamping around your upper arms as he pretends to roar.

Tears appear in your eyes, you wipe them away, “Okay, get off of me.”

Finnick’s still chuckling to himself when he goes to his far wall. He doesn’t stand, though, he sits down immediately. You go ahead and follow, criss-crossing your legs and placing your hands in the gap in the middle.

“So, what’d you call me here for?” you ask.

Finnick shrugs, “I just didn’t want to be around her anymore. She kept asking me if she thought you were cheating. I think she’s a little on edge now that you keep ranking on top.”

“I can’t help it,” you murmur.

“I know,” he says, his legs extended in front of him, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

You smile, “Have any ideas on how to solve the problem?”

He shakes his head, “I mean, at this rate she’ll probably get kicked out, but that isn’t what we’re looking for, right?”

You press your lips together, “It’s not realistic.”

“I figured as much, don’t worry.” he looks off to the side, “What if we blackmail her?”

You don’t answer him right away, “We don’t really have any leverage.”

“But if we trick her into it?” Finnick asks, sitting up, “Like, I could hint at getting rid of you from number one somehow, which will keep her in the top ten so she wouldn’t get cut.”

You try to hide your horror when you remember just how alike you and Finnick are. Sometimes you forget that you’ve been around each other for so long that you ultimately have the same brain. You could be thinking something, and he’d probably be able to guess what.

“I’m… not sure…” you manage to get out, “if I still want to be the--um--center of the danger...?”

Finnick doesn’t question you, nodding, “But it’s an idea.”

“I guess? How about we put that on the back burner and try again?”

Finnick gives you a funny smile, “I’m not sure if any of my other ideas will be as perfect as that one so bare with me.”

“Sure.”

And he’s right, once the two of you try brainstorming again, you’re not really coming out with any ideas that you like. You’d really like to go for the first one, but you’re not sure how Finnick would even lead her in that direction. You have no doubt that Thyme wouldn’t have any qualms about murdering you to get ahead. To her, that would be the perfect solution to keep you away from Finnick forever.

The real problem would be to frame her for thinking it up on her own without getting Finnick mixed in there somewhere. Also, there would need to be witnesses--other than you and Finnick--because it’s already known that you three aren’t exactly the best trio when you’re around each other. You could end up getting in trouble, Thyme could figure out that you’re working with Finnick, and it could end right there.

Finnick suggests accusing her of being Divergent, giving it a little spin. You shoot him down, explaining that your results had to be entered manually. Not to mention, she could always spin it back on you, and then the two of you could be taken away together. 

He’s not very quiet when he calls you a buzzkill.

You glance at your watch.

“Is time up?” Finnick asks.

“Is it that obvious?” you joke, beginning to get up, “We can always brainstorm tomorrow, it’s not like we don’t have a week until initiation ends.”

You stretch your arms above your head. Finnick gets to his feet too, sliding his hands into his pockets, “Before I go, I actually had something I wanted to tell you.”

“Yeah, sure,” you smile, leaning against the wall.

“I know we just started being okay again...” Finnick trails off suddenly, eyes fixated on something in the dark. You open your mouth, going to ask what he’s looking at, but he takes a hand out of his pocket, palm-down as if to tell you not to speak.

“Who are you talking to?”

You can feel your blood run cold.

Finnick moves forward, “I was practicing.”

You knew that going past thirty minutes would be a mistake, but you didn’t think that Thyme would come looking. Did she follow you guys? No, she would have come out a lot sooner. Then again, she waited until you found her to say anything about you being Divergent.

And there’s only two people that know this spot is yours. Which means that Thyme might have gone asking about Finnick, she came up with some excuse, and ended up here.

You close your eyes, tilting your head up to the ceiling, holding your breath.

“No, there was another voice, I heard it. Who are you talking to?” Thyme demands, her shoes are loud against the floor.

You look over to Finnick, who’s trying to walk towards her to make her backtrack. 

“It’s (Y/n), isn’t it?” she asks, her voice is getting closer.

“Thyme, no one is there,” Finnick says.

“Then prove it, move out of the way,” she presses her hands to his chest.

You scoot to the left, moving away as you exaggerate a nod. 

You two can trap her here, and figure out where to go from there. The more you think about murder, the more your heart skips. You can’t just kill her, someone will figure out that it’s you two that did it. Thyme goes looking for you two, who are known for hanging out together now, and she doesn’t come back?

You have to convince her not to say anything about you being Divergent. 

Finnick moves aside, allowing her to look for herself. His eyes lock with yours, lips pressed together into a tight line, shaking his head. He doesn’t know what you’re going to do, but he’s sure that it isn’t going to work. You wish he’d have a little more faith.

Thyme comes around the corner, arms crossed over her chest, mouth twisted into an angry mess. You reach out, grabbing her arm and throwing her towards the railing, trading spots with her. She catches herself on the railing with her hands. You used too much momentum, she could’ve fallen.

Finnick moves around you, standing on your right side. Thyme slowly turns around, eyes landing on you first, “You’re so fucking stupid.”

You stare at her, not saying anything. She goes to walk around Finnick, but he moves when she does. He’s not going to let her through, and she doesn’t understand this at first. Only when he mirrors her movements again, does she shoot a glare at him.

“Finnick, you don’t understand what she is,” Thyme’s voice changes significantly, from anger to softness, “I don’t know what she told you, but it wasn’t the truth.”

“So it’s not true that you’re blackmailing her?” Finnick asks plainly.

Thyme gapes for a moment, clearly not expecting him to outright say it.

“You’re not a very good actress,” you say, “you should work on being less transparent.”

Her eyes flicker to you, and she’s back to being pissed, “I told you what would happen if you came near him.”

“And I warned you about what would happen if you did this to me, Thyme.”

She doesn’t get it, you can tell by the way her face scrunches up. The more the gears turn, the more her face relaxes and she pales instead. You’re glad you’ll be able to see the terror in her eyes, the same terror you felt when you realized that she had heard about your secret.

“You won’t be able to kill me.” Her voice isn’t as smooth as it was before.

“What makes you think that?” you ask, tilting your head a bit, “You think that just because Finnick’s here, he’ll save you? If that were the case, he would’ve let you go by now, don’t you think?”

No comeback.

“What’s the plan?” Finnick asks, glancing at you.

“Don’t let her think for you, Finnick,” Thyme blurts, “You told me yourself that you hate  it when she’s in your head like this!” she reaches out for him, he takes a step back, “And now that it’s happening again, you’re just going to let it go?”

“I never said that.” Finnick suddenly snaps, “I said I hated it when she’s in her head, like she can’t tell me anything.”

You ignore the wrenching feeling in your heart. You need to focus.

“Did she tell you that she has Erudite tendencies?” Thyme asks, not a hint of regard in her tone.

You straighten up, because it’s decided. She just sealed her fate by asking him that question. Had she shown a little restraint, a little bit of sympathy, then she would’ve been fine. But just saying it out in the open like that, trying to use it as leverage again…

You reach out, grabbing her wrist harshly, “Throw her over.”

Thyme’s face changes, façade dropping again. She raises her other hand up, fist formed and aimed at your face. Finnick catches her wrist, holding it above her head. She starts yanking her arms down, “No--no, let me go!”

“Give me her other wrist, you can take her feet.” Finnick says, “I can hold her up higher than you can.”

“Stop!” the scream is shrill, “No!”

Finnick holds both of her hands above her head. If he wanted to, you’re sure, he could pick her off of the ground like this. His arms aren’t even fully extended yet, that’ll come in when you have to pick her up to get her over.

“Finnick, please!” she tilts her head back, “Please don’t do this, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?” Finnick glares.

You sweep up her feet, holding her ankles together under your arm for when she starts kicking.

“(Y/n), don’t!” Thyme inhales, a sob follows after, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t say anything, please don’t do this.”

You let go of her feet when they’re over the railing, letting her scramble to find footing. Finnick doesn’t let go of her arms yet.

“I warned you,” you say again, staying on her right side. You place both hands on the railing, leaning forward so that she can see your face, “I warned you that you’d end up here if you went through with this. You’ll be lucky if they find your body this far down the river.”

“They’ll catch you,” she sobs, her eyes bloodshot, hair blowing up because of the wind from the river, “you won’t get away with this.”

You give her a smile, “No one in this faction will miss you.” you lean in a little, “They might even thank me.”

“Or think you committed suicide because there’s no way you’re surviving initiation.” Finnick says.

“Hey, being dead is better than being factionless, right?”

Thyme sucks in a deep breath through her mouth, “Help!”

You snort, “Thyme, we are so far down this hallway that you’d be lucky if someone heard you.” you look at Finnick, giving him a nod, “Any last words?”

“Finnick, I thought I was your friend!” she screams, leaning backwards, away from the river.

“I was wrong.” he says plainly, letting go of her wrists.

Thyme teeters for a moment, looking like she’s going to catch her balance. All it takes is one pat on the back to send her flying forward, “Good luck!” you shout.

Her screams are loud, and are cut off suddenly when she hits the water. You don’t move from where you stand next to the railing, Finnick comes up beside you, wrapping an arm around your back, hand squeezing your upper arm as he pulls you into his side. 

All you can think about is what your father would think, after being murdered by a factionless. How his daughter, who had suffered from this loss, went through with a half-baked plan like it was her only option. How selfish it was to save yourself.

You need a distraction.

You suck in a shaky breath, closing your eyes when your head dips, “What were you going to tell me before she came?”

Finnick’s quiet for a moment, “That I’m Divergent too.”

--

It’s late into the night when they discover Thyme’s body, and you’re already wide awake when Trink shakes you to let you know. You have to pretend to be groggy when she helps you down from the top bunk, already tugging on your arm to get you to move faster.

You couldn’t sleep, not after what you’ve done.

There are only a few people awake, you notice. Blaire is hovering over Finnick’s bed, a hand on his shoulder as he speaks quietly. When Blaire notices you staring, he nods at you. Finnick is rubbing his eyes, but his movements are far too soft for a person who just woke up. He wasn’t sleeping either.

Trink doesn’t stop to wait for them, bringing you right through the door and down a series of hallways, taking you deeper into the Dauntless headquarters than you’ve ever dared to go. There must be another place where the river shows up besides your corner, otherwise you don’t think they would have found her.

“How’d you know?” you ask her, trying to sound like you’ve just woken up.

She seems to believe it, “Lennox was trying to be cute by showing me where the river leads because I mentioned that I like it. And we followed it all the way back here, and I don’t know how he saw her body through the dark because I couldn’t see at all. But he saw, and told me to stay put while he got help.”

She looks at you, “When Lennox got back, he told me that one initiate dies every year because of their ranks.” she’s shaking her head, “But I don’t understand why she wouldn’t just choose to be factionless?”

You shrug, feigning a frown. The plan is working exactly like you hoped it would, not a single finger has been pointed toward you. Then again, it might be too early to speak, her body was just found. 

Thumping footsteps makes you and Trink turn back to see who it is. Trink gives room between you two to allow Blaire and Finnick in. Finnick comes right up your left side, his tattooed shoulder to yours. His hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.

You didn’t believe him when he told you he was Divergent. You were convinced that he was just telling you that to level out with you, to make you feel better and that you weren’t alone after all. But the more he kept talking, the details he was giving, the more you realized that he was telling the truth.

On the aptitude test day, Finnick had been stuck in the room with the Candor man. And that detail alone was enough to begin to settle the doubt because the Candor aren’t supposed to lie. An adult man in Candor shouldn’t have the urge to hide a Divergent teenager, especially if they’re supposed to be a danger to everyone else. Candor is supposed to be the law.

Finnick kept going, telling you that he took his aptitude test like normal. It was only after the test did he realize that something was wrong because of the look on the Candor man’s face. Finnick figured that the man was new, he looked confused and didn’t move from the aptitude test for a long time.

When Finnick asked what was wrong, he was told that the test accidentally gave him two results. One of them being Dauntless, the other being Abnegation. The Candor man went ahead and manually entered Dauntless, though, because the Abnegation part of him was ‘so insignificantly small’ that it couldn’t even count towards Divergence. But when Finnick caught a glimpse of the screen…

You were still confused on how Finnick didn’t know the terminology for it, then, if that’s the case. He said that the Candor man never explicitly used the word ‘Divergent’ or ‘inconclusive’, he just said that the results came out as an accident, it happened all the time, and there was nothing to worry about. That was the reason why manually entering results was possible in the first place.

And since you’re not supposed to discuss faction results, Finnick never had the reason to tell you his result or the aptitude problem in the first place. Honestly, he’s lucky he made it this far without casually telling anyone. Plus, you can’t imagine what he felt like while you were explaining your own Divergence to him, the realization of just how dangerous it is.

It explains a lot, though. Why Finnick’s time is so low when he faces his fears, but it makes you wonder why it isn’t as low as yours? Is it because he’s only Divergent in two ways instead of three? And a part of you thinks that Laurel should’ve asked him if he was Divergent, or figured that out on her own. Unless, of course, he’s still within the reasonable time range, which blocks him from being so suspicious.

So many questions, and no one to answer them

“When’s the last time you’ve seen Thyme?” Trink asks, looking over at Finnick.

“Just before I left lunch yesterday.”

Trink looks at you, her eyes lowering into a squint, “Which was a few minutes after (Y/n), right?”

You nod. She better tread carefully, because if she starts pointing fingers at you two…

“Oh my god!” She lights up, “Does that mean you two are…?”

She’s making a scissor motion with her fingers, chopping them together with a slight head tilt. You think she’s trying to ask if you two are together without realizing how odd her symbol for it is. 

“Dating?” you guess, Finnick’s grip tightens considerably, “No--”

“They’re holding hands,” Blaire grins, giving Finnick a wink.

Trink raises an eyebrow, “I bet you two are taking it slow, huh? Since you’re both Stiff’s.”

“We were Stiffs.” Finnick corrects her.

“Same difference,” she waves it off, “I’m just surprised you two can hold hands without being a mess.”

If she were standing next to you, you would’ve punched her.

“Anyway, did Thyme ever come find you?” Blaire asks.

You turn to your right to look at him again, “What?”

“Yeah, she asked us if we knew where you were, and Sydney told her that you were probably by some empty corner of the chasm. When Sydney asked why, Thyme said she wanted to apologize or something.”

You called it, you said that she probably went looking for one of you. And she did. If she had waited to eavesdrop, though, she would’ve heard you and Finnick speaking. She could’ve wreaked so much havoc, but she wasn’t patient enough for that. You’re thankful.

Your grip on Finnick’s hand is like iron.

“We never saw her,” Finnick says casually, looking at Trink, shaking his head, “(Y/n) and I were in the party room messing with the microphone for an hour before we decided to head back to the dorm.”

“Oh, it’s still in there?” Blaire asks, he sounds a little excited.

“Yeah! At least when we were in there,” you say.

“Huh,” Trink’s eyebrows are drawn in, “Do you think she was looking for you to make amends or something, and when she realized that you didn’t want to see her, she killed herself in that corner?”

“Didn’t Lennox think it was for ranks?” Finnick’s trying to steer her back to her original point.

“It could be both,” Trink shrugs, “I was just saying. It’s over here.”

She takes the lead, bringing you three around another corner before you all come to a stop. Lennox has his back to you guys, his arms crossed, but he’ll lift one every now and then when he speaks, like he’s trying to explain the situation. Off to the side, there’s a large puddle of water beneath a motionless body.

Thyme is soaked from head to toe, lying on her back. Her head is faced away, toward the ledge that has no railing. Wet hair, flattened against the ground and the sides of her face. Her clothes are like a second skin with the way they stick to her body.

A woman is holding a blue lantern up, staring down at Thyme. If it weren’t for the light, this whole area would be pitch black. And with the light, you’re able to see the ear piercing that you insisted on her getting when you and Finnick got nose piercings.

Finnick draws in a breath, and doesn’t release. Blaire stays on your other side, staring. Trink is the only one who moves forward, coming up behind Lennox to tell him that she’s brought you two. Her hand is gentle on his back, and he offers you three a half-glance, a nod, and then turns back to the man he’s talking to. Trink doesn’t leave his side.

“I’m… so sorry, Finnick,” Blaire says slowly, not being able to tear his eyes from the puddle of water.

“Don’t be, she wasn’t really my friend, anyway.” he gives your hand a squeeze.

Was she anyone's?

You try to bring out some sense of remorse, thinking that you should at least pretend to be upset, but what’s the use? Everyone in the transfer initiate group knows how much you hated each other, it would be weird for you to cry over her. In fact, it’s even weirder that Finnick isn’t crying over her.

Besides, you can’t fake an emotion that’s the complete opposite of what you’re feeling. In order to be a good actress, you have to feel what your audience would feel at that moment, and you just can’t do it. There’s something else that’s brewing, something more sickening and vile and would most definitely get you in trouble.

It’s pure gleeful laughter, the relief and satisfaction of knowing that you will never have to deal with her again. Much less worry that she could snap at any moment and get you killed. No more pressing your ears to closed doors, no more walking on eggshells...

At the rate the balloon is swelling in your chest, you’re not sure if you’ll be able to hold it in.

--

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

add yourself to the TAGLIST

@amixedwitch / @justthatfangirloverthere / @fnnshelbys / @neenieweenie / @vxntae / @liaaacantwrite / @terezasworld / @i-dumb-bitch /

[femchef]

Life Update

So I’ve been at the new place a month this week.

I love it here - but honestly five years of working with a nice boss did not prepare me for working with a stack of nice bosses.

Hmm.

If that makes sense? That said - I would absolutely not have been able to handle this level of care and concern if I’d jumped into this position five years ago. Like - I needed to work with one genuinely kind supervisor as like. Kindness coping lessons?

It’s built into my resume - over the last eight years I’ve made it a point to include a statement in my cover letter about how important it is to continuously build safe spaces in kitchens, and making a place where other people can grow and develop their skills in a place that isn’t full of anger and mismanaged stress.

At the point when I started drafting that, I made a very conscious decision that I didn’t want to be angry at work. That was after a lot of self evaluation, and it was (always is) a work in progress. Angry chef and bitchy/catty chef are stereotypes for a lot of reasons.

Anyway - the point is, I knew what I wanted to make possible, but I’d never seen it before, in real life. I just had the notion that it was something that should be doable.

And then I got painfully lucky, and got to work for someone for five years who had had the same conscious realization, and wanted to make the same thing? Who manages with compassion and kindness. It was a little frustrating having to watch her bend over backwards to ensure that everyone else stuck to that, and it didn’t always work out. There are plenty of things that weren’t great about it, but.

It was doable. Not only was it doable but it was being put into practice. I can’t. I can’t express how wonderful and eye opening and just goddamn relieving it was, to know that we could make a place like that. And that people didn’t have to go home miserable everyday.

Kitchen work is hard. It’s hard, it can be more than a bit thankless, and a lot of kitchen culture is toxic in a way that feels insurmountable - like. Burn it to the ground and start over insurmountable. But it really, truly doesn’t have to be that way.

And I talked about it over the years with friends and it was kind of but not really a joke between us that moving to Nashville and leaving Savannah was like getting out of an abusive relationship - just. Ya know. We broke up with the Sav Service Industry. Like. Honestly- we can’t lose steam with demanding better mental health support for service instrusty employees because it’s hella overdue.

Now though. I’m here in Florida. And it’s not just one boss who is a decent person. Maybe it’s telling that one of our company managers talks about his 5 years of hell at the last place he worked (I just about died when he said it was in Hilton Head the poor man is NOT WRONG) and how he doesn’t want that for anyone else. Honestly, every manager I’ve talked to here so far has a horror story like that, that made them stop and go “Fuck, I don’t want this for other people or for me anymore how do I fix this”.

Somehow I’ve found myself in a place that’s five steps further along. No one is having to bend over backwards to constantly enforce kindness. No one is shouting. No one is throwing temper tantrums. I have several bosses and co-managers who are all kind and like to touch base and make sure I’m not overworking or overextended. It’s still summer, so the kitchen is on a skeleton crew until the seasonal hires start to arrive in October, but it’s with the expectation of teaching. There is a lot of kindness and patience to go around. Instead of discouraging employees to report injuries and accidents, the staff is begging people to do it “Please, it’s ok, we aren’t mad, look this is why we have chemical flush stations oh god please just let us take you to the hospital” conversations have happened.

It’s safe here. It really is.

Now I just have to keep pushing through all the residual anxiety.

I have a weekly scheduled meeting with my direct supervisor just to touch base, check in, see how things are going. Every single meeting has been delightful and every single time the night before and up to it I’ve been getting “called to the principals office” unnecessary anxiety vibes. Literally my last meeting when I walked in the door started with him saying “Ah! I’m so happy you are here! I’m so glad to have you on staff” like excuse 404ERROR my brain does not know how to handle this yet.

I spent a month worrying about my drafts for new menus and they were due yesterday. I was a little dissatisfied with them, I felt like I hadn’t done enough, and I pointed out in the email that these weren’t comprehensive, but that I felt like they were a good start - look, I had seven banquet and catering menus to write, including planning all the holiday pick up meal menus for the next year. Imagine if someone asked you to write every single variation of your skill but also pare it down to a manageable list that isn’t overwhelmed with too many choices. It’s HARD.

And the email I got back after sending those off last night: “Wow! You’ve really outdone yourself! This is more than I could have ever asked for or expected, I can’t wait to go over it” etc etc.

Current Me is a WiP and is cautiously pleased, but yeah. I can see how 5 Years Past Me would have imploded on the spot and been completely unprepared for this level of decency.

So anyway. We will see how it goes, but overall, I’m happy.

Also I forgot how desperately I need water and sunshine and I’m pretty sure I’m actually just a damn tropical flower because I am absolutely thriving in 90F Florida humidity and full sun.

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Pursuit of Happiness (Nightmares)

SO remember how i told you guys that the next fic was gonna be angsty fluff? well i present to you the angstiest thing i have yet to write. (i had to reel myself back. i definitely went angstier but i decided not to go there this early in the game) - and yes, the title is a kid cudi song. 

Request: Okay another request… and I know you love to write angst so how about something where the reader is having a hard time sleeping bc of nightmares and has been trying her best to keep it from Spence but he obviously knows and tries to help?

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“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the life of one Spencer Reid. A brilliant young man whose life was cut short by the grips of life.” Some priest said, standing at the front of a podium. 

You were outside, standing under a tent with a group of people. You tried to look at their faces but it was like everything was in a haze. The priest continued talking but it’s like his voice slowed down, almost as if he went underwater somehow. You looked down, seeing yourself in your funeral dress. Was this real? 

“And now a few words from his fiance.” The priest motioned to you. 

It’s like your body started moving on its own. You walked to the front of the tent, in front of everyone. Slowly, their faces came into view. One by one, you recognized who you were looking at and all of them were crying. Even his mom was there, crying just as hard as everyone else. There wasn’t a dry eye in the tent area. 

“My heart is broken... “ You began, not sure where the words were coming from. Even now, you weren’t sure what was really happening but you started to piece things together. “The love of my life…” You started sobbing, the words getting caught in your throat.

“The love of my life is gone, taken by a cruel excuse for a man. If I could trade my life for his, I would in a heartbeat. His bright eyes, loving smile, he deserves the world and every good thing in it. And now… Now, I can’t give it to him…” 

You turned, looking at the coffin. He looked so peaceful, like no bad thing could touch him anymore. And that was true. He was relieved of his pain and suffering. Pressing your lips to his forehead one last time, you whispered, “I love you now and forever.” 

You woke with a start. You were drenched in sweat and sobbing, although it didn’t feel like it. Your tears were mixed with sweat. You wrapped your arms around your torso, rocking yourself as you tried to calm down. Your heart raced and there was a painful ache in your body. Something was missing, an empty hole inside of you. You tried to breathe but it felt absolutely impossible. Your chest was so tight with fear that you didn’t think you would ever calm down. 

Slowly, you began to breathe normally again. The room stopped spinning and you were able to loosen up enough to go get a glass of water. Your footsteps were quiet but your body felt so heavy. You struggled to stand up straight at the weight on your shoulders. Filling up your cup with water, you checked the time on the stove. It was only 11 PM. You must have fallen asleep early for you to wake up at this time. A few swallows later, you were ready to get back in bed. 

What the fuck was that dream… Shit Spencer. If that wasn’t a dream, if that was a memory, you were going to lose it. 

It was only 11 so you knew Spencer would still be awake, if not wrapping up at the office. When you used to sleep over at his apartment, he would stay up late because he had a cup of coffee late in the day and the effects were still hitting him. The two of you would stay up talking until one of you dropped. Sometimes, the conversations were good, all about how he was basically a superhero and you were a goddess, according to him. 

‘Hey, angel.” You melted at the sound of his voice. He was okay. 

“Hey yourself. How was work?” You asked, trying to keep things nonchalant. You just needed to hear him talk for a little bit and then you would feel better about everything going on. 

“It was tiring. I’ve been doing desk work since I hurt my leg.” He said, pretending to be annoyed. Or maybe he was annoyed, you couldn’t tell. 

You completely forgot he hurt his leg for a moment. All you could think about was that dream… 

“Do you want to come over?” He asked, disrupting your thoughts. You were glad but you were unsure about this. What if you had another nightmare? 

“I don’t know about that, Spence. I’m a little too tired to drive.” That was the only excuse you would think of to not go. “Don’t get me wrong, I would love to spend the night with you but I’m scared of falling asleep at the wheel.” 

“I like that you’re cautious. Well, I’m on my way home. Do you want me to swing by?” Spencer said, looking for a reason to stop by. 

“Only if you feel up to it.” You said, excited to have someone to help you stay awake. It would be easier to stay awake with your fiance there, right? 

20 minutes later, Spencer walked through your door. Immediately embracing you in a hug, he smelled of lavender and coffee. You weren’t sure how that worked but it did on him. 

“You’re always so cozy.” You said, face full of his sweater. It was beginning to be a long hug but you needed it. 

“Are you ready to actually let me inside?” Spence said, chuckling at the realization that it was becoming an extra long hug. 

“Inside of me or the apartment?” You laughed, finally letting go of him. 

“Your pick.” He said, smirking. 

“Get in here, you goofball.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside your apartment. 

The two of you laid on the couch, watching Doctor Who for a little while before you started to drift off to sleep. Your head in Spencer’s lap, legs up on the couch, Spencer just watched you drift to sleep, smiling at how rested you looked. 

“Spencer. Spencer, it’s me. You don’t have to do this. Please, baby. Just focus on me, okay?” You pleaded, your fiance’s back turned to you. 

“I can’t, y/n.” Spencer was crying, hard. “There’s so much darkness inside of me and I can’t navigate it. I can’t understand how to get rid of it. Some genius I am, right?” 

“Baby, no.” You took a couple tentative steps closer to him. You didn’t want him to get scared. 

“Yes. Yes. Yes. You say all these nice things about me and I can’t… I don’t understand.” He was still crying. That was a good sign. He still felt something. He wasn’t numb. 

“Spencer, listen to my voice. You’re not all dark, okay? That brilliant mind of yours isn’t going to figure it out if you give up now. Let me help you understand.” Your voice was hardly steady but it was just enough to keep him engaged. 

You kept inching towards him. Your hands were shaking still. You were almost there. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“Spencer!” You yelled, bolting upright. 

You fell asleep. Shit. But Spencer wasn’t holding you anymore. You didn’t see him. You also weren’t on the couch anymore. You were in your bed, shaking. 

“Hmm? I’m right here.” Spencer said, turning over. He pulled you into his arms and held you as you explained your dreams and how they were backward.

“Spence, I’m afraid to go to sleep. I can’t handle you being taken away from me.” You sobbed, trying to slow down. 

“Hey, you’re not going to lose me at all. We’ve got plans and things to accomplish. I wouldn’t dare leave you to your own devices.” He chuckled. 

Hearing Spencer make light of the situation helped a little bit. You knew it was his way of helping you through the situation before he turned serious again. 

“Y/n, dreams are less about the future and more about the subconscious. Your fears manifest in two second bits of information but your brain slows it down to read the information. What you’re suffering from is common under high pressure or stressful situations. I know you’ve been suffering from nightmares for a little while. You don’t ever want to tell me these things but I find out eventually.” He said, pulling you tighter to his chest. 

You could hear his heart, slow and steady. The blood pumping in your ears started to get quieter the more he spoke. 

“You’ve been sleepless for at least a week. You’ve been wearing more make-up to cover up the dark circles and exhaustion. You have had an excuse not to sleep over at my place for a little while. Your clothes are always wrinkled and you have been more forgetful lately because you’re so tired. I haven’t said anything because I wanted to give you space to figure it out since I know you’ll call me when you feel like I can help.” He paused. 

“You know I’m here for you, right?” He said, kissing the top of your head. 

“I know. But it’s so hard… I thought I had this under control.” You sighed, wrapping your arm around Spencer. 

“Baby, you have to ask for help sometimes. You have to know that some things aren’t going to happen because there’s no way in hell I would leave you. The only thing I’m sorry for right now is that I didn’t step in sooner. I didn’t think it would get this bad…” Spencer got progressively quieter the more he talked. 

“Spence, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just… I feel like you have enough to worry about. I want to be the sunshine in your life, the thing you look forward to seeing because I bring you joy.” You sighed. 

“I know. But you don’t have to do anything to give me that feeling, sunshine.” He said, smiling. “I come home to the most beautiful, smart, incredible girl in the world every day, when I’m not on trips, that is.” He chuckled. 

“Spence… You’re too sweet.” You said, burying your face into his chest. You didn’t even realize he was shirtless until you lifted your head and put it back down on his chest. 

“Sweet like sugar.” He said. He smirked in the low light of the lamp on your bedside table. 

“Spencer, that light was in my living room. Did you move it?” You asked, wondering why he would do something like that. 

“When I have nightmares, I find that it’s easier to get my bearings when I can see what’s around me. In the dark, anything can happen. In the dark, the monsters come out. But in the light, you’re able to see that you’re safe. So I moved it so you can wake up and recognize you’re safe with me.” Spencer said. 

“You’re the best, you know that?” You said, getting sleepy again. 

“And you’re mine.” He said, followed by a yawn. 

There was something different about when you fell asleep this time. You had more control, felt more peaceful and less nervous. You were able to breathe again knowing that Spencer was right there with you. For the first time in a little while, you were able to get a peaceful couple hours of sleep.