#My first thought would be 'which ocean is being drained for this right now'

[hippo-pot]

Btw, re: my opinion that computers are not gonna be able to translate sign languages in our lifetime, it's not that sign languages are necessarily More complicated than spoken/written languages (I truly don't know how you'd measure that but I'd assume they're equally complicated). But video is, in terms of sheer data, much bigger and presumably harder to process than audio. I cannot imagine this happening without *astounding* computational resources which would take far more energy, water, and money than a human interpreter (and, more importantly, wouldn't work as well, at least for the foreseeable future). I assume the computation would happen off site in most cases if it did work, meaning the Internet connection is gonna need to be phenomenal (there is already widespread dissatisfaction with VRS human interpreters used in medical settings because half the time the connection drops). Speech to text, with all the issues it still has, seems like a breeze in comparison to 'understanding' a video.

I also cannot wrap my mind around how a machine would handle depictions. Like, with some practice behind me, my human mind is now able to understand (some) depictions I've never seen before (thank goodness, because there will ALWAYS be new depictions I haven't seen before, bc Deaf people are resourceful and creative), but I don't see how a machine would. That's pure sci fi to me. I also wouldn't expect a machine to do a good job translating stuff it's never heard before in a spoken language (e.g. wordplay, or the way you can sometimes tell the meaning of a new slang word from context, or an uncommon name even), but the thing is I think depiction is a much bigger part of daily life than wordplay is?

[sanjisluvbot]

Isekai Yandere Strawhats x Reader

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[ Check Masterlist for ch 9-19 ]

Sequel just uploaded 1

Life began to feel so boring. The days blended into one another and suddenly we’re in march. Staying up late catching up on your favorite show because there is nothing better to do right now. One piece was such a breathe of fresh air, full of adventure and characters that seem amazing to be around and explore the world with. You wished to be in the world where u can freely be who you wanted, the world where you weren’t shackled by the burdens of reality.

You’ve been around all the corners of the internet so you know of shifting and astral projection which is exactly what seems to be going on right now. Rewatching episodes leading up to the time skip around 4 in the morning till your eyes flutter shut. Suddenly the wafting scent of the ocean filled your nose. “ Is she a stowaway?” “ How have we just found her we haven’t been on land for over a week now”. You opened your eyes to the snout of a reindeer and other very familiar faces.

You sat up so fast knocking into the poor doctor. Panic set through you because the first assumption anyone would have is that they’re in a dream or— congrats you’ve finally lost your damn mind. “ Who are you people”.

“ We’ve got the same question for you”

“ well I asked first”

The blunt part of a sword was thrust into your face by a very angry green swordsman. Fear etched across your face you give him a once over. Zoro. To your left was Robin and chopper holding his snout on her lap. There should be absolutely no reason that you’re in this world with these wacky 15th century pirates from your goofy anime show. Your voice shakes as you try to convince the green haired man to stop threatening your life.

“ Listen this is surely a misunderstanding, I really don’t understand how I have gotten here and I’m not really too sure who you people are.”

Maybe if they think that I don’t know who they are I can figure out a way to get out of this mess without ruining the story.

“ What is your last memory before you woke up on our ship” a voice from behind spoke. Turning to the left at the top of the stairs was Nami with Sanji following behind her.

“ I was laying in my bed falling asleep and then I woke up here”

After that you were bombarded with questions, what’s your name, your age, if an 8ft skeleton can see your underwear and it nearly drained the life out of you. The sun was now beginning to set after such a long day of being interrogated by the crew you used to watch through a screen. The captain was sitting on the head of the Sunny watching the day fade away when he stretched his arm to you pulling you to sit with him.

It was quiet for a while and nerves began to set in. Does he see through me? I know a lot of people don’t give luffy the credit but he’s way more intelligent than you’d think. “ What is it like where you’re from y/n” he spoke as he turned to face you.

“ Very different.”

“ Tell me about it please”

The sun completely faded into night and the stars littered the sky while you told luffy about “ where you’re from” and he was absolutely entranced by the world he’s never been. You ended up telling Luffy the truth about your origins, somewhat about himself, there was just something so compelling and trusting about him you didn’t think nothing of it. You slept in the girls room next to Nami that night, thinking about the next step and getting home.

Was this really a dream or did your desire to escape mundane life make you shift into this world of unknown.

The next day you went to eat breakfast with the crew and luffy starts spouting all the things you told him the night before. With seemingly no thought behind his words as he swallowed everything on his plate, though his crew members all stopped to stare at you in confusion.

“ I thought you said you weren’t from here?”

“ You said you didn’t know how you got here”

“ Well I wasn’t exactly lying, I really don’t know how or why I’ve been transported into your world. I just didn’t want to scare you or make you think I’m crazy with all of this.”

Over the next few days you were beginning to settle with the crew, you spent hours getting to know everyone and having the most fun you’ve had in years. Nami and Robin were curious about your world and you were more than elated to tell them all the things you enjoyed. The boys liked when you played their silly games, Sanji was obsessed with everything about you and loved having you perched on the counter when he was cooking so you can serve as his taste tester.

Zoro only just began to acknowledge you after finding out you also had a love for drinking, it became really easy to bond with the man. You knew you had to go back but what’s the harm in spending time with such a loving group of people, it’s not everyday someone is given your experience don’t waste it being worried.

You were able to convince Nami to give you a blank sheet of paper where you wrote all the things you knew about shifting and astral projection. You’ve been with the crew over a week now spending every night trying to shift back to your world. Sometimes you feel close others are strangely disturbed by Robin and Nami whether they are sparking up a conversation with you or knocking things over which disturbs your concentration.

The next few days you began to see birds meaning you were finally reaching land, the sabody archipelago. You know the way this arch ends and you need to go home now before you spend two years on an unknown island doing who knows what because YOU aren’t a straw hat and you have no place where you can learn to polish your skills.

The bubbly island became visible and you’d be reaching it by midday, while you were sitting on the head of the Sunny with Luffy again he asked you his million dollar question.

“ Y/n join my crew” he smiled. Your cheeks burned and you had to turn away from the boy whose smile brightened all your days.

“ Luffy I would love to but—”

“ Great- EVERYONE Y/N” you clasped your hand over his mouth.

“ Luffy l can’t join your crew. I have to go home I don’t even belong in this world”

“ Why do you want to leave” sadness dripped from his voice.

“ Yeah, we’ve been having so much fun” the small doctor announced from the deck.

“ It has been very fun I’ll admit but I don’t belong here with you guys. I’ve got a whole life in my world— and a family and just so much to do.” You reasoned.

The rest of the day the crew seemed angry and distant, you simply couldn’t understand why. When they all found out where you really came from they said they would help you get home. During dinner that night you were seated between luffy and Zoro who barley uttered a word while hushed conversations were surrounding the rest of the table. It was insufferable and reminded you of elementary school when someone didn’t want to be your friend anymore and told everyone about it.

“ Luffy are you upset with me? I haven’t done anything wrong”

“ Why do you want to leave? You just joined the crew and were on a new island”

“ I never said I was joining your crew luffy”

“ you know the captain doesn’t take no for an answer y/n” Zoro chuckled.

With a huff you stood up everyone’s eyes landing on you. “ Are you all acting this way because you don’t want me to leave?”

“ Why would we want a crew member to leave us?” Nami’s voice wobbled as tears formed in her eyes. Are they serious? When did u ever agree or tell these people that you were a part of their crew.

“ Listen closely all of you. You have to understand I am not from here, I never joined the straw hats, and I don’t even have any powers I can’t protect myself.”

“ That’s why you have me Y/n-chwaaan”

“ ignore that idiot cook but you have Luffy and I, we wouldn’t let anything happen to you”

“ Who is an idiot you damn moss ball !”

A fight between the cook and the swordsman broke out and you would usually find everything hilarious but…

These people have convinced themselves you are one of them and they don’t want you to leave. You decided tonight will be the night where you will go home with or without their help especially because you already know what’s in store the next day. Laying next to Nami that night waiting for her breathing to even out so you can concentrate with no interruptions you hear soft sobbing.

“ Are you alright Nami..”

“ Y/n I know you want to go back but can you stay a little longer we all care about you and enjoy having you around. We really feel like you’re one of our crew mates”

“ Sure, I’m not missing anything important right now” lying is better than letting this girl cry all night. When her breathing finally evened out you were able to try again.

Eyes fluttering open you were finally in your own bedroom. It was just as you left it, your iPad paused on the intro to one piece and the sun was showing through your curtains.

I really did it.

Life began as usual but you had a newfound appreciation for all the little things that made life worth it. Friends and family found your new outlook pleasant and you finally felt like you turned on a new leaf. While you were getting ready for bed applying all of your creams and oils the Tv in the living room turned on.

Wealth, Fame, Power.

A chill ran through your spine, you haven’t watched the show in over a month in fear of being brought back into that world by some odd chance. Getting up to turn off the tv something in the hallway made a noise. The fear of someone or something being in your house had you clenching on the door knob for dear life.

Just open the door nothing is there you’re only scaring yourself.

Opening the door and walking down the dark hallway into the softly illuminated living room the episode of the strawhats finally meeting up after two years was playing.

“ My favorite arch I should rewatch soon”

“ Why don’t you live it instead?” A voice from behind hissed.

You felt your heart thumping in your ears as you slowly turned to be met with a very angry Captain.

——

Not proofread ! 🫶🏽

I was inspired by a similar stories I’ve seen down the tl hope you enjoyed. Pt 2 coming soon maybe

[snippychicke]

Legend of the Selkie and the Pirate --Two--

Fandom: One Piece (LA mainly)

Rating: Teen/mature (we have non-graphic nudity stated)

Pairing: Buggy/Selkie!Reader

Warnings: None except heartbreak?

Summary: Even in a world of monsters, devil fruits, pirates, and fishmen, selkies were considered a myth. Especially in the East Blue where the waters were too warm for seals to live anyways. 

Except that myths were always seeded with truths, and stories always had a habit of coming to life. 

Tagging: @tfamidoingwithmylife; @yellowbbear ; @skullr0se; @chiyo-juice

Masterlist|Ao3

(psst, if you're a long time reader of mine and noticed that I had posted part one without dramatic use of italicized words... that was because tumblr ate my formatting. It is fixed now along with a few spelling/grammar corrections.)

Prompt:  Something/Someone missing

The joy of a large trove of treasure disappeared as Buggy watched the seal slip beneath the railing and over the edge. Without thinking, he called out your name as he raced to the edge, just to watch you gracefully disappear beneath the choppy waves. He was somewhat aware of the rest of the crew torn from the treasure, but was frozen as he watched the water. Hoping--Praying-- that you'd break the surface. That you would reappear--either human or seal-- and he could pluck you up once more despite the earlier ocean spray on his hands had already made them painful and weak. 

He'd do it again. And again and again. 

If you would just reappear. 

"Not even a goodbye," Mohji whined eventually. "Richie is going to be so heartbroken." 

Who the fuck cared about the lion? He was heartbroken. The necklace he had in his fist--the one he was about to insist you try when he had first turned around-- cut into his hand as he clenched his fist. 

Why? What did your family or kind or whatever have that he couldn't provide you? Were any them as flashy as he was? Making you constantly smile and laugh? Did any of them take you and accept you as easily as his crew had? 

Did any of them love you like he did? 

Or was it his one flaw? His one weakness? That he couldn't swim. That the ocean hated him for fucking accidentally eating that damn fruit. 

That damn Shanks. If he ever saw him again, he would rip his throat out. 

(Don't let it be his nose. It couldn't be his nose, right? You said it was fine, and he didn't think you were lying.) 

"Cap'n?" Mohji asked, breaking Buggy from his thoughts.

The crew was looking towards him, which he usually didn't mind. Except there was pity in their eyes. As if they could tell--as if they knew--how he felt. 

"What are you freaks looking at?!" He shouted with a manic grin. "We just hit the jackpot! It's time to celebrate!" 

The cheers were less than heartfelt, but Buggy let it slide. This once. 

--

Granted, later that night, while the crew was sleeping off draining half the beer they had on board, Buggy made his way to the small room you had claimed. 

You had been with them for just a few short months, and yet you had made the tiny room your own. Hammock full of blankets and pillows stolen from who knew where. A chest brimming with clothes donated by the crew. A vanity with a cracked mirror, yet you.hadn't seemed to mind. You had placed shiny rocks and shells in the canister meant to hold makeup and brushes.  

He took the necklace he had kept in his pocket and put itt in the main drawer, next to the hairbrush (your hair mixed with a few of his since it had been a spare he had found in his own room). He knew he was being foolish, but he held on to the sliver of hope you'd be back. That you would look at his gift with delight and grin happily at him. That the sparkling gems would look as beautiful as he imagined against your skin. 

And, well, if he happened to fall into your hammock, pulling your pillow close to his chest, it was merely because he drank too much. But in the moment, he knew the truth as the sway of the ship rocked him into an uneasy sleep. 

He missed you. 

Prompt: Forgetfulness 

You had forgotten how lonely the sea was. 

As the sun set and everything became dark, you pulled yourself up to an outcropping of rocks before shifting and looking to the stars. Except the sky was clouded, obscuring everything. 

The night would have been silent if not for the sound of water splashing against the rock and your legs. It was impossible to tell where the sea and sky separated--all that you could see was inky blackness. As if you had somehow appeared into an abyss. 

You shivered, but you weren't cold. You still pulled your fur tighter as you continued to shake, chest becoming painfully tight. 

You wanted to be on the pirate ship right now. You wanted to hear the rumble of snores of the crew. The soft boot steps of those taking watch. The soft glow of the lamps and candles. 

Buggy finding you and ending the lonely night often brought alongside insomnia. It had become a little routine, making you wonder what made it so hard for him to sleep at night. 

You never asked. 

Finally the tightness erupted into a scream, hot tears stinging your eyes. 

You had forgotten what true loneliness was like.

You forgot the heartache of missing those dear to you.

Your heart wasn't sure it even knew where 'home' was. The arctic where your pod was. Where your parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, were.

Or a ship where you were surrounded by people so unlike but had wormed their way into your heart nonetheless. 

(Or maybe where a blue haired pirate grinned at you with bright eyes and a red nose. Like you were the most amazing thing he had ever seen.)

Prompt: Unexpected 

"We're going to the Grand Line!" 

The crew of freaks stared at their captain in confusion. When he had called them together, this was not what they expected his announcement to be. In fact, no one had cared to even place bets considering they all believed it to be the same. 

To go after you. 

"The… Grand Line, Captain?" Mohji was brave enough to ask, clearly as confused as everyone else despite the fact he was technically Buggy's second in command. 

Thankfully, Buggy grinned at the white curly-haired man. Though there was a hint of mania yet again to his blue eyes. "You heard me. We've pittered about the East Blue for long enough, it's time to go after the grand prize--the One Piece!"

"Don't we need a map for the Grand Line?"

"Does the One piece actually exist?

"Well, rumor has it Buggy was on Rogers ship. So if he thinks it does, then it must, right?" 

Buggy wasn't too concerned about the talk amongst the crew, that was to be expected. After all, it was a big change. 

But then…

"What about our selkie that jumped shipped?" Mohji asked, and everyone quickly grew silent, looking towards the captain expectedly. 

Buggy felt his eye twitch as he gritted teeth behind his smile. 

Waking up in your hammock had made the truth hit him like a sledgehammer. You were gone. You chose to leave, without so much as a goodbye.

 Escaping to the one place he couldn't follow. 

"Our little seal made her choice," he said, turning to his first mate with murder in his eyes. "And I don't want to hear another word about it." 

Because his heart was bruised enough as it was. 

He wasn't going to chase after someone who didn't want him. (Just like everyone else in his life he had cared for. He had opened his heart to you, only for you to devour what little had remained before jumping overboard.)

Prompt: Undone

"Well, she's rather special. I mean, can you blame him?"

"Hmph. Captain Buggy has made it a point to build a crew of people that don't fit in. We're his band of freaks. But at least we're human. Or fishperson. The bitch is as useful as a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest. I mean, she had to be taught how to wash dishes." 

"Either she sharpens up, or the Captain will realize how useless she is and send her overboard too."  

The words still echoed in your head despite it being weeks since they were spoken. The conversation you weren't meant to hear but did. The one that made you realize you didn't belong among the land-kind. 

That you weren't meant to be one of Buggy's crew. That the chore girl position you had been given was just to keep you entertained and out from under others feet.

Oh sure, many of the crew acted like they enjoyed you being there-- especially Buggy himself-- but not all of them were such great actors. The scoffs. the sneers. 

Some things were universal no matter what. 

The cry of a seagull roused you from the half-sleep. You groaned when you realized the sun had moved, meaning you were no longer in the shade of the towering cliffs but in the hot sun. 

You grabbed your fur and moved into the new shaded area. Hoping to get a little more sleep before the sunset and you could resume your attempt at finding home.

Goddamn tropics being so hot. It was way too warm to try and swim during the day, so you resorted to trying to sleep while the sun bore down. Yet always alert for any land-kind, so sleep was a relative term.

But at least there were plentiful fish in the waters. 

Yet… your time on the pirate ship had spoiled you. All that different food.

Baked.

Roasted.

Toasted.

Fried. 

And the fruit. The cool and sweet juices from biting into one busting into your mouth. Sometimes too much and escaping the corners of your lips. 

Buggy laughed as you tried hard to catch the juice with your hands. He eventually reached over and wiped some you didn't notice from your chin and made a show of licking it from his glove. "Juicy little thing, aren't you?" 

"I-it was," you agreed, trying to reign in your impulses that you didn't realize what he truly said.

How were you supposed to enjoy going back to eating merely to survive after that? (Were you ever going to get him out of your head?) 

You continued to try and sleep, ignoring the pain any dreams brought once you woke. 

Prompt: Eyes 

For being stuck in a sack, bodiless, and more or less prisoner of Arlong, everything had been going fine. Listening to Luffy's antics was always entertaining. The boy was so clueless and full of optimism that it was almost unbelievable at times. As well as rather annoying, considering how the rubber-cursed teen and his tiny crew had beaten him 

What was wrong with this kid? 

Maybe the Gum-Gum fruit had done something to his brain too. 

Okay, things were massively sucking for Buggy right now, but he held out hope. He had escaped worse situations. Yes his body was too far away for him to literally pull himself together. But after they tracked down the Straw hat, Arlong said he'd let him go. 

Granted, Arlong was the kind of pirate to lie straight to your face, but all Buggy had at this point was hope. 

And then he heard you. He knew wherever his body was it jerked, instinct to whip around to look for you before he remembered his ear was miles away at the Baratie restaurant hidden in Luffy's cap. 

What the fuck were you doing there. 

He wiggled his ear slightly in hopes things weren't so muffled. As angry and hurt as he still was, there was no denying that he was desperate to hear your voice clearly. 

He wanted to see you. Touch you. Talk to you. (Demand to know why you had left him the way you did. Hadn't any of the time you spent with them, with him, meant enough for at least a goodbye?)

"--I'm lost," you admitted slowly, sounding as cautious as when you first boarded his ship. Back when you didn't know who to trust and expected someone to do something. "I'm trying to head north, but--"

He silently groaned, rolling his eyes, the Baratie was south of the Deadman Stacks. No wonder you ended up in the East Blue. You were absolutely clueless when it came to directions, weren't you?

(He could have helped. If you had just asked. If you had just waited another minute.) 

"Where's home?" Luffy asked, full of innocent optimism that set Buggy's teeth on edge. 

You wouldn't. You wouldn't dare accept help from the brat after leaving him. Right? There was nothing that kid had that he didn't. (Except a normal nose-- no. You didn't care about his nose.)

"North?" You answered awkwardly, and Buggy wasn't sure if you were avoiding the question, or if you really didn't know. 

"Like, Shells town? Syrup Village?"

"Um… further… north?"

You… didn't know. At least, none of their names for places. And you didn't trust them enough to divulge that truth. His innocent little lamb lost at sea for how many months now? He didn't think his heart could stand another knife in it. 

"I mean, Cozia is the northernmost isle of the East Blue I know," A new voice peeped in. One of the waitstaff if he recalled right. Sangria? Sojo? Something like that. It didn't matter, not really. 

"That sounds… kinda familiar?" You answered, though your voice was tinged with obvious doubt. You were such a horrible liar. (Which only confused him more, because he had thought you at least liked him. Yet you ran away. Why?)

"Don't worry, my cherie, you rest and eat your fill. We'll find a way to get a beautiful woman such as yourself home." The waitstaff flirted, making Buggy grit his teeth as he tried to keep his snarl silent, well aware that Along's crew was probably listening. 

Hell no. No suave fucking waiter was going to try and steal you from him. (Completely ignoring the fact you obviously weren't his to be stolen.) 

Wait. 

Shit. Fuck. 

Arlong was heading for the Baratie. Where you were. 

And as happy as he was to find you, for the chance to just see you again, there was no mistaking the fear rolling in his gut even if he wasn't attached to his body. 

What if you got caught up in the inevitable fight? You could defend yourself, but against Arlong's crew? One Selkie against three fishman that were stronger than himself? 

What if Arlong decided he wanted you as a trophy? What if he took your fur from you again? Unlike Buggy, Arlong was known to hold people captive for long periods of time, doing as he pleased. (Buggy held on to the fact he wasn't that bad since he only gave the towns and villages a mandatory free show for a few nights and before he'd leave and allow them to rebuild their boring little lives.) 

And all Buggy could do was watch. A bodiless head, unable to do anything but watch. Listen. Maybe beg but he already knew any pleading would fall on deaf ears. 

Prompt: Crowds

You had impulsively followed the smell of food, sick of fish, and ended up giving a few humans--Luffy and Sanji-- heart attacks when you pulled yourself halfway onto the deck asking for food. 

And well, you had gotten what you had asked for that ruined your usual diet even more because it tasted divine. But as you ate, the two had been full of questions and one thing led to another and… 

They wanted to help you. Apparently their navigator might know more about where you were heading. 

Except chaos erupted before you could even meet their navigator. Maybe it was because you were surrounded by too many humans, but you felt exposed. Overstimulated. The constant chatter of the patrons. The clinks of silverware against plates. 

The animalistic part of your brain finally won out, and you ran yet again. There was a storm on the horizon and you didn't want to be caught in the middle of it. 

You didn't care which way you were going, you jumped into the water and dived deep and fast, allowing your body to follow the urge to run and hide. 

~*~

You weren't at Baratie. 

Hours later as Buggy helped the Straw Hat idiots navigate.to Arlong Park, the mantra repeated itself in his head. You weren't there. You hadn't been amongst the crowd of diners that Arlong threatened. You weren't part of Lyffy's little crew. 

Buggy was relieved. Angry. Devastated. Thankful. 

Oh, you had been there. Your voice hadn't been a figment of his deranged imagination. But apparently between Mihawk's attack and Arlong’s arrival, you had slipped off into the night without so much as a word. (Which did help a little. Especially as Sanji mourned the fact two 'lovely ladies' had disappeared on him without so much as a goodbye.)

"Wait, you knew her?" Luffy asked after Buggy not-so-subtly asked if they had seen a curvy gal in a seal-skin coat. 

Buggy grinned, though he felt an eye twitch. "You could say that.  But I mean, what man really knows a woman, am I right?" 

"She's running away from you, isn't she?" Zoro guessed-- making Buggy grit his teeth. 

God, if he had his body right now he would have decked the grass-haired man. Right in the swordsman's chest wounds. (See how he liked a knife in the heart.)

"That would imply I actually gave a shit about what she's up to." Okay. He couldn't lie to himself. He did. Hearing you were still so lost had taken the edge off his anger. He was still mad, but it was tempered with worry now. "She's merely an old acquaintance and I was surprised to hear her voice is all. She doesn't like hanging around crowds." 

"She was a jumpy little rabbit," Sanji agreed with a dreamy hint to his voice. Okay, forget the dramatic samurai-wanna be, Buggy was going to slaughter the chef. "I should have offered to protect her. To keep her safe from whatever frightened her." 

That madeBuggy laugh. "That is a riot. Friend, buddy, pal, let me tell you a little secret. Those sharp teeth aren't for decoration. I've seen her kill half a dozen men in just a few minutes with those chompers of hers alone. She'll bite your hand off if it wanders a bit too much-- and I do mean literally." 

And yet… you were still an innocent little lamb he felt compelled to protect as well.

Or maybe just stand back and watch you protect yourself, clapping and cheering the same way you did during one of his performances. 

But the fact.remained, you had left him. You did not want him or his crew. 

 He was in the midst of his body being kidnapped and sailing into the territory of one of the most vicious pirates of the East Blue with a ragtag bunch of idiots. That should be what took precedence in his mind. 

Not you. (Yet it was.)

[noro-noro-noro]

had a mess of weird dreams. 1. weird terraria update 2. going to a distant wedding with my dad's side of the family 3. interlude: murder mystery? 4. thee paint shop

Terraria update. i remember there was some tunnel in the basement that took us to a dark and fucked up and scary cave. you could only play as octopath characters. there was a late game miniboss we managed to killed early next to a specific rune in the ground on accident so t made an enchantment platform, which helped us get etter. there were new fish and new bugs in this area so I put them in my net. the fish were aggro tho but dropped a lot of resources, so I was mad wheb nh sister drained the lake. there was also a new thing where the right side of the map would always be auto converted to a fungus wasteland until you did a miniquest. there was a character called Beast Master that could also spawn in the wasteland and be converted to fungus. but he was modtlu fine. abyeay we bad to uncovert the area to access the ocean normally. it was really annoying.

at some point that for my dad's side of the family we had to go to a wedding. & then they eanted my help with a shirt design, so we went to an art store in the middle of a latge shopping center - they revealed the shirt to me. also we couldn't go through the back door bc there was this WHOLE other thing going on too actually.

some kind of convoluted murder mystery.

1. this guy was accused of some crime recently after he got out of jail, but he wasn't in the area at the time - his overbearing family was freaking him out, so he went to a nice vacation rental to hide out.

2. this other guy who was either a professional clown or some kind of clown hobbyist played a stupid orank on him that actually got him in trouble le in the first place, and he dirst wanted to run away from the situation but then felt really vad and wanted to go make it up and then apologize. . but he did so in his clown costume bc he was shy.

3. the family was feeding off the drama and also indirctly shifting blame to the first guy since I think he was rich from a false accusation settlement?

4. the cops first accused the first guy based on e everything, but that guy was creeped out by the clown showing up at the place & he thought the clown was yhere to kill him. he was confused on why the clown was cooking for him & hanging out & veing someone to play Mario kart 8 against, but it wasjust creeping him out more & more & he did what he did best becore the clown could apologize (it was implied hed done this before) and jumped out the winfow into the ocean. the ocean was warm, and the waves were high. anyway then these weird red string like fairy things upholders of justice showed up to the vacation place with the clown inside. they probably would have obliterated (???) everything maybe? but the cops put them to sleep for the time being.

anyway we couldn't go through the back door kf the store bc it was likely the things would wake up.

back to the store. the shirt was was a [my workplace] branded shirt with xia ji on it that was like WANTED [mugshot] 2027 except he was innocebt now so they wanted to add a color to the print hat was "wanted" crossed out & they wanted to use paint, but I thought wed need one of tbose paint pens instead to really get the scannable hand drawn vibe they wanted, so I was interacting with the workers very friendly & they eere bringing me stuff & also the store was full of anime loving losers & also my friend A from college. everyone left after sundown & the people were chilling while my sister & dad were standing there & I was still doing swatches. it seemed like the employees were never allowed to go home based on the conversations I overheard, (they could go to other places in the shopping center to get food & etc) but they seemed fine with it - at least until the parking lot lights stopped turning off 2 years ago.

[irrevocablyxrs]

Now that i've made love to at least one of each Zodiac I will say:

Capricorn: Exciting, like exploring a shutdown bus station once everyone's gone and hightailing it straight to waffle house once you hear someone else inside.

Aquarius: Fun, like riding grocery store carts up and down the aisles and bicycling through downtown before getting nachos from a cute little ma and pa spot in the heart of the city.

Pisces: Exhilarating, like doing all the drugs we promised smoky we wouldn't do, making love inside the car and jhene aiko's trip album. We would go everywhere together and you are completion, like family.

Aries: Romantic like late night and some times early morning drives to nowhere at all and you making time for me. You were nostalgic but brief so there's no album for you.

Taurus: unforgettable like frank ocean's Blonde album. My white Ferrari. My walking around a small country town at 3am going to a diner for hotdogs and milkshakes because i'm carrying our first child together and though I never told you you meant the most and i loved you first and i was sad when it ended but it needed to happen.

Gemini: My 2nd introduction to motherhood and the most memorable let down and disappointment. No song, no album. You ruined me in ways I would never speak on in the future and i thought i had known true abandonment but you came and maxxed that out.

Cancer: My LSD trip and intro to the Weekend's Starboy era. You were filled with melodies and beauty continually. You opened my body and my mind to how fun some d_ugs can be and were also too breif. Our trip last longer than you but you flew me out and we had a blast. My dance on the nightbar as i shared my hot cheetos with a room of strangers and danced to usher's "yeah"

Leo:

Virgo: HIGHLY EMOTIONAL rollercoaster of confusion. For you no album but a summer walker song here and there depending on which one i choose to remember you in. Southern like exploring louisiana's most dangerous neighborhoods at night on foot. Dancing in a room alone. arguing like crazy then fucking so sensually as etta james played in the back. A crazy passionate 1950s styled romance.

Libra: my greatest stereotype. My breaker. my curse and my blessing wrapped into one very hurt and archetypal disappointment. You left me drained and bereaved. After loving you and being abused there was really nothing there. I gave so much of me to you. Intrroduced you to crystals and Lo-fi you assumed my personality then spat me out and for you i have no words, no album, no true song that makes me think of you. My shea butter baby. i lied, i often think of what could have been but i know that wasn't you every time that song comes on i am instantly taken back to the summer we met when boxing was your life. oh well.

Scorpio: high school by nicki minaj and little wayne. Right thru me by nicki minaj. Complicated, romantic lie. it wasn't real for you but i was enjoying what you presented you to be. thrilling like a night under the stars at the fernbank museum. putting you into my mouth for the first time and riding you the next time we saw each other on your living room floor. We were wild and young.

Sagittarius: Naked by Sabrina Claudio..All of me was all for you and you didn't value that. Foolish eternally, i was for you but it is over and I could not be happier ignoring your existence and pretending you don't matter.

[raggaraddy]

hello if you want you can ignore this of course but I was wondering what would vampire Hoseok do if he found out someone turned oc? Your fics are amazing by the way!

Bitten to death

A/N: Thank you for your request :) It was fun to write. However I took it less as a reaction, and more of a story prompt. So it's not exactly a conclusive answer to your question. I hope you still like it, though ^-^ 💜💜💜

Summary: You thought you knew everything about Vampires but when you wake up one you learn there are some important things you did not know. And it's only going to let worse once you learn why you were turned.

Trigger Warnings: Blood, death, maiming, choking, violence, mind control, abduction, yandere themes.

Vampire! Hoseok

It was like a horror story within your already horrific story. Some man you've never met before broke into Hoseok's house when only you were there. While you screamed and fought and instinctively called for Hoseok, he covered you in bites unlike any other you had felt before. Ones that made you suffer as if fire was coursing through your veins. You wish that you could say you were strong enough that your fight had some kind of impact. But in truth, it was over after only a few seconds. And it was in those few seconds that you felt your chest burning and your breath fill your lungs for the last time.

Waking you're met by the stranger hovering above you. Your head aching and your body throbbing in ways you had never experienced before. With a quick glance, you can see everything around you, and that does mean everything. Every single little detail. And the information is overwhelming.

Your mind feels as if it's breaking from everything you're taking in. For as far as you can see there are pallets and long isles of shelves lined up, the contents on every rack crystal clear. You can hear the sound of his shoes on the concrete and the dirt gritting underneath, and how each peak of sound travels and bounces off the farthest point in the warehouse. Even the smells, there are hundreds of them all hitting you at once. A few you know like the fragrance of the treated wood or the oils stain, but others you couldn't guess at. It's as if all of your senses are on high and you have no way to focus them.

Despite your panic, no matter how much you want to run, you can't. Laying on your back with your arms spread out to either side of you and your legs held together, you're being bound by the thinnest most delicate length of silver chain. Though, it's not tied. It's only draped over you, but still holding you as if it were stronger than any steel. Burning you as if it were touched by the sun.

You may have only seen a few newly made vampires before, but you have still been around them enough and know enough about their existence to recognize how and why your body feels wrong. And absurdly you can't help but feel betrayed. This was not supposed to happen to you. It was the only safety you got from belonging to someone who was called The Immortal King, and The Origin of Cruelty. No one was supposed to be foolish enough to steal from him, and most importantly, no one was supposed to be able to hurt you. But now because Hobi didn't keep you safe, he's now lost his blood supply and you've lost your humanity.

The stranger snaps his fingers, the sound bursting in your eardrums making you groan and wince as he repeats it. "Focus your attention on just this one sound. On just the sight of my hand. Feel the air around it." He coaxes you, snapping again. The noise echos dozens of times, ricocheting off every wall. The dull thud of his fingertips hitting his palm only sounding the once though.

Opening your eyes your concentration goes to the hand held above your face as he said, the space around it blurring. On the back of his pointer finger on an otherwise porcelain complexion, you notice a small patch of dry skin just below his knuckle. Clear blue-black defined veins wrapping the back of his palm. He clicks his fingers again and you catch the sound of friction from the way his finger rubs down his thumb, feeling the most minuscule shift in the air created by his motion.

The pinpointed attention helps for a moment, but then you shift your eyes to his face and the explosion of information overpowers you again. His hold comes around your neck keeping your head from turning. The tight pressure on your throat while stifling your movement, nearly makes you smile. There's no airflow to restrict. Your chest isn't heating, your body isn't convulsing trying to breathe. Even in this tense moment, you can't help but find it humorous, thinking how many times over the years had you wished for this exact thing when Hobi had squeezed the air from you.

"Watch my eyes," on his words your vision becomes immersed in them. They're piercing blue. Made up of streaks of white interlacing with a clear sapphire shade, like thousands of threads made out of the purest tropical ocean. A transparent irregular line encircling his pupil, and beyond that every distinct strand blurs together with the others until it reaches the shadowed grey edge that holds the circular shape. Slowly his jet black pupils dilate, stretching and filling his entire iris till every trace of colour is removed. As if transfixed, you're unable to close your own eyes, a flooding of bright light filling your field of view. The strength of it is so intense that the tendons in your sockets ache and your eyes begin to water. Tears rolling down the sides of your face, cresting in your ears.

"Apologies, you are only my second." He confuses you with a vague explanation you did not ask for. The black finally receding into its natural size. Your own eyes scrunching as you try to blink away the soreness. The bizarre occurrence leaving you feeling drained of strength, filling you with anxiety caused by the uncertainty, which is only worsened by the glimmer of triumph in his gaze.

Searching past him to the ceiling your brain is again processing the whole image instead of the sum of its parts. The strain in your head slowly fading, your tight held muscles releasing as everything begins to normalize. You don't know what he did, but it seemed to help.

He doesn't back away, continuing to invade your personal space. Although, the way his fingers are trailing along your skin while you're restrained on the floor is still not the worst thing he has done to you. Seeing as he killed you.

"I had almost given up hope that Jung Hoseok would love." His hand daintily caresses along your neck and up your jaw. Your eyes shutting as his fingertips run over your lips. "I began to fear it might not be something possible for him." He divulges, his touch still aimlessly wandering.

The way he speaks you can feel his vailed anger. Despite his soft words, this is not someone who cares about Hoseok's wellbeing, this is someone who hates him deeply.

"However, you restored my lost faith. And for that, I would like to thank you, Inamorata."

He thinks Hoseok loves you? Is he crazy?. He's possessive of you, that is all. Even in moments of deception or weakness when you had told him that you loved him, he's never said it back with any sincerity. And he has never said it of his own accord.

"Sir," your eyes reopen. "I think you've misunderstood. These," you weakly gesture to the silver, each slight movement searing the links deeper into your flesh. "aren't necessary. We are on the same side. I hate Hobi, more than anyone."

"Truly?" He asks tilting his head to the side. His white hair messily hanging across his forehead.

"Yes," you nod trying to insist your point. "He's kept me locked up for years." you chuckle dryly. Finding it nearly risible that all of this is because this man believes in a fantasy.

"Well then, you are free to rise," he nods resolutely. Plucking the chains out of your melted skin as you grit your teeth. The sound of the sizzle on his own skin baffling you as to how he can even lift them.

Sitting up you gently pull your limbs in, inspecting the blistered and bloody marks. The skin on your wrists already starting to intricately knit itself back together.

"Come here." The stranger calls from a rested place on one of the pallets to your right.

Standing, it is a bit hard to walk with your ankles still cut up but you make it to him decently. Looking around you, you can see the sun streaming in from the high windows that line the whole length of the warehouse. It's enough to light up the otherwise dark space, but with the sheer size of this place, the beams of sunlight do not get close to the two of you in the centre. Still in the middle of the day, it means Hobi can't get to you. Not easily at least. So you're on your own for now.

"Kneel." He instructs plainly. And you follow, lowering onto your knees in front of him. Your only thoughts are of escape. You may be in your first minutes as a vampire, but it should be simple to move quickly. It always seemed like something that came easily to them. "Inamorata, you will call me Master." he declares abruptly.

"Yes, Master." You smile confusedly. Inamorata? Why does he keep calling you that? You're unsure if it's a name or a title, but it's weirding you out.

Your face drops, your heart thumping, realizing what you said. The words you just spoke replaying in your head. You hadn't meant to say that.

Why did you say that?

In fact, why had you knelt? Why were you doing what he said at all?

With a gaped mouth you climb back to your feet. "Look, I think-um." You start not knowing what you want to say.

"Kneel." He orders again more forcefully yet with a knowing, jovial smirk. You shake your head hard, staying upright. You're not going to let him order you around. He has to be kidding.

Your brows furrow, your mouth drops open, and your forehead tightens as your knees bend against your wishes. You drop back into your knelt position. Grunting as your jaw clenches, your fingers digging into your legs, doing your best to resist without success.

Your eyes go wide in shock.

"Good. Now stay there," his voice makes your stomach drop. But your muscles relax, your shoulders dropping and your bottom lowering on your calves. Your body resting in this position.

This is nothing you have ever seen before. It's nothing that you knew was possible. It shouldn't be possible. On top of all the horrible advantages they already have, you're sure you would have known if mind control was one of them!

"How?" You gape, shaking your head in disbelief. "Why?"

"Why?" a smile fills his face, "What you have told me is far different than what I had heard." He stands and turns, tapping his foot against the top pallet sending it and its boxed contents flying. He grabs at the bottom slats of wood underneath and drags them closer to you with a horrid screeching on the concrete. Sitting back down he is now much lower and much nearer to you. So much so that his legs spread straight out on either side of you. "See, I had heard stories of the self-proclaimed King of Vampires, who had fallen in love with his human pet. That he kept her close, kept her safe, and drank from her exclusively."

"That's not love." you interrupt with a scoff, "That's imprisonment."

"Well, let us see what the truth is. Tell me honestly, Jung Hoseok's little Inamorata, do you love him?"

"Yes." You're mouth answers before your mind has time to think. "No!" you instantly correct.

The smile grows larger on his face "And what do you feel about him?"

"I'm scared of him. But I care for him." The words are pouring out of you uncontrollably, your face placifying as you speak. "and I miss him when he isn't home."

"And does he love you?"

"I think so, yes." You wish you could make yourself shut up! Your calm tone drops and you bite your jaw trying to take back your own body, growling as you do. "No! He doesn't." you snarl in a rapid shift.

"You think so? Then my last question; Do you want him to love you?" He asks satirically.

"Yes," The word slips out. Being accepted joyously from him. "You can't just make me say anything you want!" you shout. Your body is rigid and stiff as you think to stand with nothing happening.

"I did not," he chuckles, "I made you say what you believe is true."

"No, you didn't! Tha-" his finger raises to his lips shushing you, cutting you off like your voice had disappeared.

That is not how you feel! Hobi may have gotten better as time has gone on, but he is still cruel and malicious and heartless. The only thing this man is doing is speaking to your primal brain. The part of you that gave into its survival instinct and it's the part that you fight every day to repress so that you stay in control. You can't love him, it's not possible.

"Ha, you are far more amenable than my last. I can hardly feel any resistance." He mocks, tapping his temple. "And I recall Jung Hoseok trying to move heaven and earth to break free. Even Mansueto struggled to contain him. But you," he reaches down holding out his hand and you follow his gesture, your body moving independently to accept it. "You are a broken little thing."

You don't understand his ridicule. You're not moving consciously. Your own mind isn't connected to your actions. So you can't fathom how your body is even reacting, let alone how you should be able to fight it.

"Stop." You complain, your voice coming out with far less strength than you had intended. "Look, Hoseok doesn't have my blood anymore, okay. So just leave me out of whatever fucked up feud you have you have going with him."

"No, that is not enough." his tone becomes suddenly harsh. He lifts his hand and you stand as he raises it. "He stole someone precious to me and he must feel the same agony of loss."

"You're wrong." you swallow, working to overcome your nerves, "I'm sorry, but you just are. He doesn't love me. I'm not precious." You try to reason, seeing your pleas falling on an unreceptive man.

"We will see."

The sun has barely set before you hear commotion beyond the metal walls.

You had tried over and over to pry information from this man, to convince him to let you leave. But you were unable to gather so much as a name from him, and clearly, you failed to be let go. After a certain point of ignoring you, he stopped you from speaking altogether. Not allowing you to say a word until he permits it. More than that though, he filled your head with many instructions. Telling you how to behave in anticipation of Hoseok's arrival.

100 meters in front of you the locked doors are ripped off their hinges, a dozen men and women pouring into the warehouse with inhuman speed. But as if time slows down your eyes adjust and you can see them, see their movements with full clarity. Hoseok comes in last and straight down the middle into the open square that you all occupy. And you must admit, you are genuinely happy to see him. Now you just want him to hurry up and get you out of here.

The man steps forward to meet them while you are sat on the stack of pallets behind him. Your only instruction at this time is to sit quietly and wait for him to call you. Hating the feeling of being restrained by your own body.

Watching them all lineup versus a single man, you find it comical how outmatched he is.

Hobi always said that when he got tired of playing with your human body, he was going to turn you. And he was furious if anyone robbed him of even your smallest reactions, so clearly, he was going to be beyond pissed that someone sped up his plan, and took your death away from him.

"That's mine," Hoseok puffs up his chest, looking past the man's shoulder to you. 

The only thing that's confusing you, though, is if this man knows who The Vampire King is, why he didn't expect to be met with hell on earth, and why he didn't prepare better.

"Jung Hoseok, always so impolite. Do you not think you should greet an old friend after so many years?"

"We can talk all you like, Kol," Hoseok snarls, finally giving a name to your killer. "Once I get my property back."

"I think you'll find this is my belonging now." he chuckles in a brief pause. Hoseok's expression darkens, his eyes becoming murderous. The fury around him actually making you shiver. "Do you like the modifications I made? She is much more durable now."

Supposedly, Hobi's already noticed your change, because he doesn't look at you again. Instead, the two men have an intense staredown. All of the vampires on his side looking ready to kill on a word.

"And far more obedient. Come here," Kol calls you, holding his hand out at shoulder height for you to take. Moving automatically, you jump down from the stack of wooden pallets placing your fingers on his palm.

Unable to stand the rage on Hoseok's face you look down, just missing the exact moment he charges. But you see an instant later as he is thrown back like a paper doll into four stories of shelves, his weight bringing the metal, the shelves, and the products down on top of him as the whole structure collapses. His men looking as startled as you to see Hoseok so easily discarded.

Before the toppling construction settles, Kol breaks from your side and an incredible, horrible scene breaks out. His speed is something you can't follow, even now. You only see the trail of destruction when he stops. One after the other, he made his way through half of the vampires, ripping them apart. Literally tearing some in two halves. Decorating the square with blood and innards.

The others are as belated and overwhelmed as you, only just having the sense to react as his blurred image stops. When he advances again, this time he doesn't use his quickness for an advantage and simply ploughs through them. They attack all at once, and still as they grab and strike at him, their forces barely move him. And his response is terrifying.

You can only bear to watch the first one. Kol's fist driving through a woman's chest, the horrid cracking of her ribs as he tears it back out making you want to scream. But his orders have you completely silent. Instead, you close your eyes, sealing your hands over your ears. Trying to block out the violent sickening sounds of his destructive rampage.

There's a last thud before it falls quiet again. Your eyes springing open to see as horrific of a sight as you had imagined. He's dripping in blood. Drenched in it. And Hoseok's people are strewn in every which way. Not a single one having survived.

Sauntering through the sea of dead bodies, he makes his way to the side where Hoseok is unmoved, tossing away the beams and panels as if they were nothing. Grabbing him by the ankle, he drags him from the rubble into the clear space in front of you. The man you once thought of as the most powerful in existence, and his troupe of vampires, was completely demolished in mere seconds of work. And you can only watch on with your body shaking. Your hopes of rescue decimated. Your chest aching with worry, even for Hobi's sake.

"Now that it's a more intimate number of us, should we talk?" Kol releases him, brushing past you as he sits where you had before. His action triggering an instruction he provided earlier, forcing you to follow him and kneel at his feet.

Sitting up, Hoseok rubs the back of his hand against a large gash under his eye. The ferocity not having left his mannerisms. "You disappear for 90 years, and you show up to what, gimmie a blood bath." His laugh falls into a grimace as he stands himself back up.

"I was created in the 13th century and you brought infants to a fight with me. What did you think would happen?" Kol asks scornfully.

"I was hoping they would do a little better," He smirks, shrugging off their deaths. "Okay, that's my bad. But still, that doesn't tell me what you want. Or did you just want to remind me that you're still alive?" He taunts, his sardonic nature returning, "Remind me that you're still pissed and you can kick my ass. Good job. You put on quite a show." he smiles, his tongue running over his fangs as he gestures around at the gruesome display. "But she," he points to you with two fingers, bitterness lacing his next words, "is worth nothing to you."

"Oh, she is worth everything to me," Kol slides forward, his hand brushing down the back of your neck, "because she is worth everything to you."

On those words, you get the most heart-wrenching sight. A pang of insecurity shows up in Hoseok's eyes. Uncertainty and something so close to fear. The smile fading as he looks him up and down.

"I am curious, though, Vampire King, do you think she will detest the Sire bond as greatly as you did?" he punctuates the question, tugging your head back by your hair. "If I treat her as Mansueto treated you, how long do think until she breaks?"

With immense speed, Hoseok splinters one of the wooden crates near him, lunging at Kol, aiming to drive the shard into his heart with a roar. But he's caught before his hand ever plunges forward. Instead, Kol takes the sharp wood and spikes it into Hoseok's stomach. Continuing to dominate him with a solid blow, knocking him off his feet, smacking him into the concrete in front of you. Stepping down, he swings his foot punting Hoseok in the chest hurling him back among the remains of his fallen creations.

You had thought if you ever saw Hobi being handled as roughly as he treated you, that you would enjoy the Karma of it. But seeing him so easily immobilized is making you sick with fear and mostly sadness.

With Kol having stood, you're no longer bound on your knees and you scramble to your feet. You want to run to Hoseok's side but before you have the chance Kol drags you into him, his hand wrapped around your waist, his other crudely brushing the hair from off the side of your face.

"Call out to him. Tell him your every feeling." He hushes the order in your ear.

"Hobi!" you yell, not sure you would have even needed to be compelled to want to shout for him. "Get up, please. I'm scared. I wanna go home!"

"Go to him," Kol releases you and you sprint to his side, hardly able to slow your sudden frantic speed.

Doubled over Hoseok is bleeding profusely. He needs your blood- but you can't do that anymore. And you have no idea what to do. You don't know how to help him or how to get out of here. He's the one that is supposed to keep you safe.

Coming from behind you, Kol bends down shoving you out of the way to lift Hoseok by the throat. "Stop!" you follow their movement, hanging on Kol's arm. "Stop! Please." But you have no effect. Instead, he jerks the wood dagger out making Hobi yell in pain.

"Do you recall what you said as you killed our Sire?" Kol whispers maliciously. "You told me that 'I will get over it'." Releasing him, he lets Hoseok plummet to the floor and you drop with him trying to catch his weight. "In 100 years from now, I'll let you see her again and you can tell me if you were able to take your own advice." he smiles spitefully.

"Hobi," you whine lowly. Brushing his hair from his sweat and blood wet forehead. "I don't want to go with him. Rather the devil you know, right," you softly chuckle, trying to pull his energy back.

Even though you know the both of you have no chance at the moment, you guess you're just looking for an affirmation that he isn't going to let you go and let this other man keep you for the next century.

"Please," you whisper, your waterline filling with tears.

Reaching towards you, Hoseok's hand constricts around your throat, pulling you into him like he has countless times before.

"You're mine," he growls through pained grunts. His anger lessened, distress replacing it. But he gives you the answer he could see you searching for.

"Yes," you nod subtly. Closing your eyes as you lean further into his hold.

"Get up," Kol orders, interrupting you.

Despite his tightening grip, you pull away from Hobi, standing as you were told. The elder vampire taking your arm leads you away through the bodies to the open doorway.

"Say goodbye Jung Hoseok," Kol calls back, leaving him injured and alone, making you wish more than ever that you could pull back. "And do not worry, I'll take very good care of her for you."

[twdsunshine]

Broken: Pt. 12

Summary:  Mechanic!Daryl AU.  Tabitha Dean has returned to her hometown for the first time in years, fleeing a life that isn’t quite what she thought it would be.  When her car breaks down, the mechanic who comes to her rescue is none other than Daryl Dixon, the shy, strange boy that she remembers from her school days.  But a lot has changed since then, and, when Tabby’s life catches up with her, she finds herself in need of someone to fix her broken parts.  Is Daryl up to the job?

Pairing:  Daryl Dixon x OFC

Warnings:  Language, mentions of domestic violence

Word Count:  7,068

Check out my bio for a link to my Masterlist!

Author’s Note:  This is it.  The end.  I’m not sure I’m ready.  I have loved writing this series so so much, which you can probably tell by the way each chapter got a little longer!  This one’s a beast!  Thank you to all of those that have stuck with reading Tabby and Daryl’s story, and I really hope you like how it all wraps up.  For the last time, here we go...

*****

“I’m not gonna lie, Daryl.  It’s not looking good for you.”  The sheriff took a sip of his coffee, sitting back in his chair as he ran an appraising eye over the man that was slumped, cuffed, on the other side of the table.  “We’ve got a witness that saw you loitering at the motel, we’ve got a body missing a fair chunk of brains, and we’ve got your prints all over the murder weapon.  Not to put too fine a point on it but you are currently swimming in a vast ocean of shit, and, if you don’t start talking, you might just drown in it.”  When Daryl stayed silent, narrowed eyes glaring at the tabletop, he leaned forward, rapping his knuckles against the surface to get his attention.  “C’mon now.  It’d be easy for me to assume that this was all just some kinda off-the-chart stupidity, some grade-A, butt-steak idiocy, but that’s not what I’m about.  So, why don’t you tell me what in the holy hell happened back there and let me help you?”

Daryl fidgeted in his seat, blinking dazedly as if he wasn’t quite sure where he was, and it wasn’t a million miles from the truth.  He felt as if he was outside of himself somehow.  He’d seen the cops come storming into the motel room with their weapons raised, heard the metal cuffs being snapped into place around his wrists, felt the thrum of the police car’s engine as he was transported back to the station, but, emotionally, he was numb, mentally drained, unable to react.  It seemed as if he’d destroyed a part of himself when he’d pulled the trigger, a part that was absolutely vital to his ability to function, and now it was gone, and the man opposite him was watching him expectantly, and he didn’t have a clue what to say.  He supposed, when he really concentrated and managed to form a coherent thought, that it would have made sense for him to have come up with some sort of story, a lie that would get him out of this mess, but he just didn’t have it in him right then, so he sucked in a deep breath, forced himself to focus on the sheriff, with his thick red hair and wrinkled brow, and told the truth.

“S’fer Tabby.”

“Tabby?  I’ve got the ID found in the wallet of the victim, and it says he is a Mr Shane Walsh from Atlanta.  I assume you knew him.”

“He’s Tabby’s fiancé.  Ex-fiancé.”

“So, what?  This some kinda love triangle turned bloody?  You been pouring the Bisquick into another man’s skillet?”

“Nah.”  Daryl swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and tried to force his brain to function so that he could properly explain.  “He… She left him, but he found her.  Tracked her down.  An’ he… He hurt her, beat her bloody.”

“I see.  Well, I am sorry to hear that, I really am.  There are some real assholes in the world and it just makes my ass itch, it truly does.  But that’s why we’re here, Daryl, to deal with those assholes.  I can’t condone this kinda… vigilante justice, not on my watch.”

“Ya don’t get it,” Daryl growled before clearing his throat, attempting to rein in his frustration.  “Tab… Her old man used to be the sheriff here when we were kids.  I knew she wouldn’t wanna come here.  She’s still hurtin’ over it, blames the job for takin’ him.  Wouldn’a been able to get her through that door, let alone talkin’ to one of ya, not in that uniform.  An’ I… I couldn’t let him touch her again.  I swore I’d keep her safe.”  It wasn’t something they’d ever talked about, the fact that she wouldn’t want to step foot in her father’s old workplace, that just the thought of it made her feel sick, but Daryl knew anyway.  He knew her better than he knew himself these days, he thought.  “‘Sides, all ya’d do is lock his ass up, then she spends the rest of her life waitin’ for him to get out an’ come after her again.”

“Mother dick.”  The sheriff let out a quiet huff of disbelief, and Daryl frowned at the man as he shook his head.  “Tabby… You’re talking about Tabitha Dean, aren’t you?  Sheriff Dean’s little girl?”

“S’right.  Ain’t so little no more, but yeah.  She came back to town when her mom died.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.  I trained under Sheriff Dean when I was just a pup.  I heard his old lady went off the rails; guess I never gave much thought to what happened to his kid.”

“Shane happened,” Daryl stated bluntly.  “Made her life a livin’ hell, an’ he weren’t just gonna let her go.  I know guys like him.  He would’a killed her, sooner or later.”

“So, you grabbed the bull by the nutsack and killed him first.  Looks like ya took one hell of a lickin’ for it too.”

Daryl ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he realised that he’d just confessed to murder, and his first thought wasn’t for him but for Tabby, who seemed to need him around for reasons that he still didn’t really understand.  It wasn’t that he regretted his actions, nowhere close.  He was damn sure now that he loved her fiercely, that there was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, and, if he’d kill for her, which he evidently would, spending the rest of his life behind bars was really nothing he couldn’t handle.  He only hoped that she could go on and find some sort of peace without him because he wanted her to have that, after all she’d been through.

“Do you have a licence for the firearm?”  The sheriff’s question cut into his thoughts, and he shook his head, knowing that he might as well just own up to all of his offences now that the big one was in the bag.  “Alright, son, I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do.”  Draining his coffee, the officer clasped his hands together, watching Daryl’s reactions carefully as he laid out his plan.  “Shane was clearly an unhappy man, some might say mentally unwell.  His long-term partner had left him, and he couldn’t let go of the relationship.  I’m sure there are friends or colleagues back in the city that can vouch for that, going on what you’ve told me.  It wouldn’t be out of the question for someone in that state to hit rock bottom, search for a way out, don’t you think?”

“I… I don’t get it.”  Daryl was confused, his muddled mind working overtime to try to understand where the sheriff was going with his rambling.

“I’m just saying, somebody gets into that kinda thinking, that dangerous headspace, it’s not totally out of the question that they’d find themselves an exit ramp, y’know?  ‘Stop the ride, I wanna get off.’”

“B- but my prints…” Daryl stammered.

“Prints can be wiped.  It’s an unregistered weapon.”  It took a few moments for the sheriff’s proposal to sink in, and then Daryl was shaking his head, his eyes wide as he finally realised just what this might mean for him.  

“Ya’d really do that?”

“For the daughter of the man who damn near made me who I am, I’d do that and a whole lot more.”  He pulled a set of keys from his pocket, standing and making his way around the table to stoop and undo Daryl’s cuffs.  “Sheriff Dean meant a whole lot to me, and to a lot of the people at this station, and that makes his family our family.  Now, I can make this go away, but that means you don’t breathe a word of it to anybody.  Do we have an understanding, son?”

“I… Yeah, ya got it.  I ain’t gonna say nothin’.”

“Well, alright then, leave it with me.  Looks like you’re free to go.”  Walking Daryl to the door, the sheriff shot him a conspiratorial wink, reaching out to take his hand and give it a firm shake.  “Best keep your head down, Dixon, and send Tabby my best.  Tell her Sheriff Ford said hello.”

*****

Rick stirred at the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door, lifting his head from where it rested on the arm of the couch to blink blearily at Daryl as he stepped inside.  Casting a glance towards the window he noted that dawn was breaking, the sky streaked with shades of pink and orange, and he let out a tired groan as he pushed himself to his feet, moving to meet his friend.  He huffed a sigh at the sight of Daryl’s face - the split over the bridge of his nose, the blackened eye that was puffy and swollen, the bruising over his jawbone - frowning at his stiff movements as he shrugged off his vest.  

“You look like hell.”

“Feel like it,” Daryl confirmed, dragging himself over to take a seat, dropping heavily onto the sagging cushions with a grunt.  “Where’s Tab?  She alright?”

“She’s fine,” Rick told him, leaning back against the wall and watching as the other man bent forward to unlace his boots.  “Finally convinced her to turn in a few hours ago.  She was set on waitin’ up for you.”  He cleared his throat, dipping his head as he admitted, “She knows you didn’t go see your brother.”

“Whaddya tell her?”

“I didn’t.  She asked if that’s really where you’d gone, and I told her no.  I didn’t know any more than that.”

Daryl nodded.  “S’fair.  Should’a known she’d figure it out.  She ain’t stupid.”

“No, she’s not,” Rick agreed, and he found himself smiling as he thought of her panicked pacing, the naked worry on her face as she considered Daryl’s whereabouts.  It wasn’t that he’d enjoyed her agitation - far from it - but it had been nice to see that she cared so deeply about the man that most people didn’t put any effort into getting to know, unnerved by his dark scowl and the walls he built around himself to shut out the rest of the world.  Tabby, it seemed, had broken through those walls with alarming ease, and she obviously liked what she’d seen behind his defences.  He only hoped that they might be able to move forward together now, find some way to be happy.  He knew they both deserved it.  “So, did you find him?”

“Mmhmm.”  Daryl was gnawing on his lip, intentionally avoiding meeting Rick’s gaze, and he frowned, needing to know more.

“Well, what happened?”

There was a long pause, and then Daryl shook his head, letting it fall back against the couch with a rough sigh.  “S’better ya dunno.”

“Daryl-”

“Trust me, brother.”  His body was wrung out, his mind still foggy with exhaustion, but he’d made a promise to the sheriff, who was going out of his way to ensure that Daryl didn’t end up behind bars, and he couldn’t break that, no matter how much he might want to offload.

“Fine then.”  Rick moved closer, dropping into a couch in front of Daryl’s knees so he could study him intently.  “Just tell me, is it over?”

“Yeah, s'over.  She’s safe now.”

*****

Tabby was dreaming.  In her dream, Daryl was home, and he was holding her, cradling her against his chest as he pressed soft kisses to the top of her head, and she nestled into his warmth, reaching around him to smooth her hands over his back, the thin t-shirt he wore wrinkling under her fingers.  She let her touch drift south, seeking the hem so she could creep beneath it and trace patterns over his bare skin, carefully skimming over the scars that she knew he preferred to keep hidden.  They’d never spoken about them, though she’d been unable to hold in her horrified gasp the first time he’d forgotten himself and tugged off his shirt, covered with oil from his bike, to replace it with a new one, revealing to her every bad memory, every mark inflicted by his father’s drunken fury.  His cheeks had blazed with heat, and she’d gone to him, pushing herself up on tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his cheek and holding him tight, as tight as she could with her ribs still aching.  She had her own scars, but nothing so ragged, so raw, and she felt his suffering so keenly that it mixed with her own.  If she’d thought she’d loved him before, now she was completely in awe of him, lost in him, this man that had come through so much and still ended up so innately good.  She’d decided then that she wanted nothing more than to spend every day that she had left making him happy, if he'd have her.

As her thoughts wandered, her hands still stroking down the length of his spine, feeling each ridge and the surrounding muscles move and shift as he pulled her closer, she became vaguely aware that she was awake, slipping back to consciousness so smoothly that her dream had melted into reality, and Daryl was there, his hair damp from the shower, his body solid and firm against hers.  Her eyes sprang open, locking onto piercing crystal blue.

“Daryl?  You’re back?”

“Yeah, m’here,” he told her, his voice low and gravelly with lack of sleep.  “M’sorry.  Rick said ya were worried.”

“Your face…”

“M’fine.”  His large hand cupped her cheek, wiping away the solitary tear that had escaped her, unnoticed, borne of relief and continued worry at the state of him, and she shook her head, trying to fight away the fog that was clouding her brain before she sat up, watching as he did the same.  He looked almost as broken as her, she realised, his rugged features marred by cuts and bruises, and she reached out to ghost her fingertips over the darkened skin, pulling back when he grimaced.  

“Daryl, what happened?  Where have you been?”

“Yer safe now,” was all he said, his eyes drifting closed, but that wasn’t enough, and she grasped at his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake.

“Daryl, please…”  She sucked in a deep breath, trying to read his reactions.  “You went to find him, didn’t you?  I know you weren’t with Merle.  Rick ratted you out.”

“Mmm, he does that.”

“Daryl…”

“Tab-”

“No, please - you’ve got to tell me, okay?  I need to know.  Yesterday was…  It was hell.  Not knowing where you were, when you’d be back, if you were even coming back-”

“Course I was comin’ back,” he interrupted, cutting her off as he fixed her with a sharp look.  “Ya really think I’d do that?  Think I’d just up an’ leave ya, after everythin’?”

“I thought you might not have had a choice,” she whispered, and she sounded so distressed that he couldn’t fight the urge to wrap an arm around her, pulling her in close, relieved when she curled into him willingly.  “He’s dangerous, and I was… I was scared that he’d hurt you.”

“Nah.”  He shrugged off her concerns, despite his aching back, stiff neck and sore throat, and the multitude of abrasions that Shane’s onslaught had left him with. 

“Really?”

“S’nothin’,” he assured her.  “Ya should’a seen the other guy.”

“Please.”  She couldn’t stand his joking, needed to hear some sort of truth, and, when he closed his eyes again, she could practically see the cogs whirring in his head.  She wished she could burrow her way in there and see exactly what he was thinking, but, when he finally looked up, his expression was one that she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen on him before, and it was almost the next best thing.  It was so open, so real, unmasked, and she could see affection and pain and sadness and fear and anger and so many other things, that she didn’t even know how he could contain that many emotions inside of him at one time without exploding from the pressure.  

“I took care of it, Tab, like I said I would.  Told ya I’d keep ya safe an’ yer safe now.  He ain’t never gonna hurt ya again.”

“But… how?”

“D’ya trust me?”

“You know I do.”  His lips quirked up in a crooked smile, and he used his hold on her to tilt her face up to his so he could brush a soft kiss against her mouth.  It was the first time, she thought, that he’d been the one to instigate anything like that, the first kiss they’d shared since he’d patched up Shane’s handiwork painted over her skin, and, despite the situation, she couldn’t fight the thrill that ran through her.

“Then trust that it’s over.  He’s gone.  He can’t hurt ya no more.”

“What if he comes back?”

“He won’t.”  He spoke the words with such certainty that Tabby knew then, without him having to say any more.  She knew what had happened, knew that she was safe because Shane was dead, and that Daryl had played a part in making that happen.  And he was right not to tell her explicitly or in detail, because she didn’t want to know any more than that, she found, couldn’t hear more in case she should drive herself mad with what-ifs and all of the things that could have gone wrong, so she just nodded and buried her face in his chest, taking deep, calming breaths to steady herself.  They sat like that for a long while, silence settling over them as they each battled their own whirling minds, and Tabby thought he might even have fallen asleep sitting up when she sneaked a peek at him, his face almost boyish in his peacefulness were it not for the permanent furrow in his brow.  It deepened as he fidgeted before clearing his throat. “Hey, when yer old man was the sheriff, d’ya remember a kid that worked down at the station with him?  Ford?”

She racked her brain for a moment, searching through her memories without lingering too long on any one, because she couldn’t deal with her grief flaring up right now on top of everything else.  “Erm, yeah, I think so.  Adam or Abel or… No, Abraham, I think it was.  He was a deputy there, fresh out of the academy.  Why?”

Daryl shrugged.  “No reason.  Heard he’s the sheriff now, s’all.”

“Is that right?”  She narrowed her eyes, watching as his cheeks flushed pink, and he ducked his head, hiding behind his hair to avoid her gaze.

“Mmhmm.  Might be nice if ya swung by some time.  Might do ya some good.  Closure or somethin’.”

“Daryl, I- I don’t know…”

“M’sure there are some people down there that’d like to see ya.  Think about it, s’all I’m sayin’.”

“Alright, I will.”

*****

When Tabby woke for the second time, Daryl was still sleeping soundly beside her, and she watched him for a moment: the patchy scruff that coated his cheeks and chin; his mouth relaxed, lips less thin, less tightly drawn in his slumber.  The flesh over the angle of his cheekbone was red and swollen, and it softened his appearance, made him look younger somehow, and she found her mind flashing back to the quiet, shy boy that had sat next to her in class all those years ago, mumbling his words at the desk whenever they were required to speak, barely glancing her way if he could help it, so locked up in his own misery.  Who would’ve thought back then, she mused, that it would be that same boy that she would turn to in her darkest hours, that would patch up her broken parts, both literally and figuratively, and who would kill for her, to keep her safe, to protect her and ensure that she was never in that kind of danger again.  It was too much for her to wrap her head around, and she slipped carefully from the bed, letting him sleep on whilst she stepped out to face the day.

She padded into the kitchen, making a pot of coffee on autopilot and pouring herself a mug, cupping it in her hands as she wandered across the hall and dropped down onto the couch.  It was mid-morning, and the sun was beaming in through the windows, painting the warped wooden floorboards in a rich honey gold and making the spartan room feel more cosy.  She hadn’t really questioned why Daryl seemed to have so little in the way of belongings; it had just seemed to make sense with who she knew him to be, so she’d accepted it, just as she’d accepted everything else about him.  Now, though, she flashed back to what he’d said to her a couple of days before.  ‘Feels like a damn home when yer around.’  Was that, she wondered, a hint?  An invitation?  He’d said she could move in for all he cared, but it had been such a casual, throwaway remark that she’d let it go.  Now, she let herself consider it, assessing her feelings, probing them with more confidence than she’d allowed herself in a long time.  

She could see it, she realised; could picture a life with Daryl, far more easily than she could picture one without him, but, at the same time, it felt like an easy way out.  Moving in there would feel like running, like she was giving up and casting off her past completely rather than facing it head on, and she couldn’t allow herself to do that.  Daryl had mentioned closure when they’d been talking in the early hours, and she knew it was something largely lacking in her life.  So, perhaps he’d been right.  And perhaps giving up the cabin that had been her haven away from the world, that had meant so much to her father and held so many memories of the time before her family had fallen apart, would be just another missed opportunity to gain exactly that.

She sighed as she settled herself more comfortably against the cushions, curling her legs up and taking a sip of her drink.  In truth, she knew she could now do whatever she wanted, and, although the freedom was exhilarating, it was also a little scary.  For so long, every decision she made had been dictated by Shane’s mood, taking careful steps so as not to antagonise him and risk unleashing the wrath of his temper.  And, even when she’d come back to town, she’d known he would turn up again, kept her head down so she wouldn’t be too easy to find, though that hadn’t really worked out.  Now, her choices were endless and it was overwhelming in both the best and worst way, so that she wasn't really sure how she was supposed to feel about any of it, if she was honest.

The one thing that she did feel, easily identifiable in the muddle of emotions that vied for prevalence in her head, was relief, and that had a lump forming in her throat, because what did it say about her that another person’s death could make her feel so light, so thankful?  Nothing good, she was sure, yet she couldn’t pretend to grieve, to feel any sort of sorrow when she was reminded of the pain that Shane had put her through each time she looked in the mirror.  Maybe at some point some sort of sadness or remorse would come, for the good times they’d had before it had all gone wrong, but, in that moment, she was more grateful to Daryl than she could put into words, and her heart swelled in her chest as she thought about what he’d done for her, what he’d been prepared to sacrifice.  She wasn’t sure that anybody else in her life had ever cared that much, and that was a relief too, because maybe it wasn’t her if someone like him could think she was worthy of protecting, of risking everything for.  Maybe...

As the sun climbed higher in the sky and midday loomed, Daryl shuffled into the living room, running a hand through his rumpled hair and shooting her a bashful smile.  “Woke up without ya.  Din’t feel right.”

“Welcome to my world,” she teased, and he scoffed, shaking his head as he slumped down beside her.  “Waking up without you yesterday was the worst thing.  Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?”

“I won’t, I swear.”  Something passed between them then, a mutual acknowledgement, she thought, that, wherever they ended up, whatever happened next, they would be starting their days together, in the same place, the same room, the same bed.  Or perhaps she was reading too much into it, looking for some sign to cling onto, and Tabby wondered whether now was the time to bring up that conversation, the one they’d been putting off about what they were and where this was going, but Daryl was already moving past it, cocking his head to one side as he regarded her with concern.  “So, ya feel up to leavin’ the house today?”

“Erm, yeah.  I mean, I think so.  No reason not to now, I guess.  Why?”

“I called Carol after… When ya needed some time, just let her know.  But she’d probably like to see ya, check in or whatever.”

“God, Carol…”  Tabby hadn’t even thought, didn’t even really remember that she’d had a job just a week ago, with colleagues and a boss who relied on her.  It was as if everything, except for the man who had hurt her and the one who had saved her, had slipped away, leaving her running in pure survival mode, her world shrinking right down to the size of Daryl's house, her life completely contained within its walls.  Now, she felt guilty for her lack of consideration, and she covered her face with her hands in an attempt to hide her dismay.  “She must be so mad at me.  I totally left her in the lurch.”

Daryl’s fingers wrapped around her wrists, tugging them down so she could see the earnestness of his expression.  “S’alright.  She gets it.  She’s been there.”  At Tabby’s look of surprise, he smirked.  “S’a reason she keeps a rifle under the counter.”

Tabby processed that for a moment before nodding.  “Yeah, okay.  We should head over there.  Are you sure though?  You still look kinda tired and… well, like me.”  She gestured at her face, and saw pain flash across his eyes.

“M’sure.  Rather be busy, y’know?”

“Alright then.”  She forced a smile.  “I’ll treat you to lunch.”

“Ya sure?”

“It’s the least I can do,” she told him honestly, because it was.  In fact, she owed him so much more.

*****

Carol’s was quiet when they walked in, having missed the worst of the lunch rush.  Daryl had taken the long way round, heading out of town in the wrong direction so that they could double back along the scenic route, whizzing along winding, narrow back roads, lined with overhanging trees and lush vegetation.  He told himself that he was doing it for Tabby, reminding her what the great outdoors looked like after several long days shut inside, doing nothing but worrying and licking her wounds, but, if he was honest, he needed the ride to clear his own head.  In some ways, he’d expected to feel worse than he did now that the shock had worn off, thought the weight of taking a life would sit ever heavy in his gut, but, in reality, it wasn’t quite like that.  For the most part, he felt perfectly fine, except for the aches and pains of the fight, and he’d almost manage to forget, and then it would creep up on him and hit him like an arrow through the chest, and he’d find himself unable to breathe for several endless seconds, because he’d done it; he’d killed a man, and he could almost feel the blood staining his soul.  It came and went every hour or so, and he knew that escaping for a while on the bike wouldn’t hurt.  Nor would the sensation of Tabby’s arms locked tight around his waist, tighter than necessary, holding him together. 

She was hanging back now, wringing her hands, her windswept hair hanging wild around her face, blue eyes wide with uncertainty.  He reached for her, lacing his fingers through hers and tugging her forwards, releasing her to rest his palm against the small of her back.  “S’gonna be fine, Tab, I promise.”

At that moment, the door to the kitchen swung open, and Carol bustled out, wiping her hands on her apron before she noticed she had customers waiting.  Her face lit up at the sight of them.  “Tabby!  Daryl!  Oh, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”  She rounded the counter and held out her arms, pulling first Tabby, then Daryl, into a tight hug.  “C’mon, let’s get you sat down.  You both look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

She led them along the corridor of tables, pausing to say hi to a regular that had come in whilst she’d been out back, and gestured towards the same booth they’d occupied on Tabby’s first visit.  Tabby slid onto the cracked leather seat, surprised when Daryl dropped down beside her instead of taking a seat on the bench opposite, and then he took her hand beneath the table, giving it a gentle squeeze, and she understood.  She shot him a grateful smile.

“Carol, I’m so sorry I flaked out on you,” she began as the older lady sat down, but found herself silenced by a stern look.

“None of that.  Daryl told me what happened, why you needed some time.  As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.”

“I am.  But I still feel bad.  I didn’t even call you myself and-”

“Tabby, what you went through…”  Carol sighed, her usually bright expression darkening slightly as she leaned across the table, keeping her voice low.  “It happens to the best of us.  I know what it takes to drag yourself back from that.  So, you have nothing to apologise for, okay?”  Tabby nodded.  “Besides, any friend of Pookie’s is family, and family looks out for each other, right?  Now, how are you doing, really?  Both of you?”

“A little sore still, but mostly better.  It feels good to be out of the house.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed.  “Thought she was gonna melt into the couch for a while there.”

“Shut up.”  Tabby dug an elbow into his ribs, and he winked at her, lips curving in a smirk.

“And your fiancé, is he…?”

“Gone,” Daryl told her in a decisive tone that didn’t invite any further questions, and Carol’s face settled into a knowing look as she reached over to pat the back of his hand where it rested on the tabletop.

“Well, sounds like it’s for the best.”  The door to the diner swung open and she pushed herself to her feet, ready to get back to work.  “I’m just glad you’re both okay.  And when you’re ready to pick your hours back up, Tabby, you just let me know.”

“Oh, I...”  Tabby knew that she needed to go back, that it would do her some good, but she still felt unsettled, unsure of what she was doing.  She didn’t feel like she could just jump back into the new life she was building when she was still hiding out at Daryl’s, not even knowing where she wanted to be or what they were to each other.  She needed to get things straight in her head before she could focus her energy on anything else, and Carol seemed to get it because she cut her off with a smile.

“No rush.  I just want you to know that your job is waiting for you, that’s all.  We miss you round here.”

*****

Tabby didn’t notice that Daryl missed the turning that would take them back to his place on the way home, cruising through town and past the auto shop, all the time waiting for her to object.  She was too busy clinging to him tightly, revelling in the sturdy strength of him, the leather of his vest smooth against her cheek, the rush of air as exhilarating as it had been the first time she’d ridden with him.  She loved her car, the Cougar, with all her heart, and she knew she would never want to drive anything else whilst she could keep the old girl running, but she felt a rush being on the back of Daryl’s bike that was unlike anything else she’d experienced.  Perhaps it was the loss of control that gave it that edge, because all she could do was hang on tight as he sped along, but it wasn’t scary; she knew that he would keep her safe.  Or perhaps it was just his close proximity and the excuse to drag herself as close to him as she possibly could, without worrying that he might pull away because they really did need to talk at some point soon.  

When the motorcycle finally slowed to a stop, the engine shuddering into silence, it took her a moment to realise where they were, but she could feel the tension threading through Daryl’s muscles, his whole body rigid beneath her hands as he prepared for her reaction.  The cabin was a sorry sight.  It looked lonely somehow, with the Cougar still parked haphazardly across the front of the porch steps, abandoned and coated in a fine layer of dust that the breeze had stirred up from the forest floor.  She swallowed hard, swinging herself off of the bike and slipping off her helmet, so she could run her fingers through her hair.

“You brought me home.”

“Thought it was time.”  He was studying her face, waiting to see if she’d crumble or yell, but she only nodded, taking a cautious step forward.  “He ain’t here, Tab.  He ain’t gonna hurt ya.  This is yer place, an’ yer dad’s.  Ya can’t let him take it.”

She knew he was right, and she rounded the car and climbed the steps one at a time, her heart pounding as she neared the front door.  Daryl was close behind her, tugging her keys from his pocket and handing them over so she could slide one into the lock.  The door swung soundlessly open, and, together, they stepped into the chaos.  The contents of the mantle had been swept to the floor, crushed beneath heavy boots.  The chairs on one side of the table were upended and scattered across the wooden boards, and the table itself was at an angle, where it had skidded under the force of her slamming into it.  The TV was lying screen-down on the rug, and there were patches of blood here and there, amongst the debris and shattered glass from the frames that had fallen from the wall.  She huffed a shaky sigh, feeling Daryl’s hands come to rest on her shoulders, as if he was trying to lend her some of his strength.

“Y’alright?”

“I- I think so.”  She closed her eyes, waiting for the panic and fear to take hold, but, to her surprise, those feelings never came, because it wasn’t Shane she saw, looming over her, his fists clenched.  Instead, it was Daryl, in the moment when she’d opened the door to him, the relief that flashed over his features, closely followed by shock and concern and sadness, and she remembered the sense of belonging she’d felt as she fell into his arms, as if it was okay for her to fall apart because she was finally home.  She’d been wrong, she realised.  It wasn’t the cabin that was her safe haven.  It was him.  It had been all along.  “Yeah, I’m actually okay.  I feel good.”

“Ya do?”

“Yeah, I do.”  She span on her heels, his touch falling away as she faced him, reaching up to cup his cheeks and smooth over his worry lines with the pads of her thumbs.  “Daryl, I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

“I already told ya, m'here as long as ya need me.”

“No, I don’t mean… It’s not that I’m afraid or that I’m lonely.  It’s not that I need you here.  I just…”  She paused, sucking in a deep breath as she watched his eyes search her face.  “The other day, you said that your place felt like a home with me there, do you remember that?”

He shrugged, the tips of his ears burning red.  “Mmhmm, course.”

“Well, that’s how I feel about you.  Like, whenever I’m with you, I’m home, and I belong somewhere, and that’s… I haven’t felt like that in a really long time.”  She heard Rick’s voice in her head, urging her on.  ‘When he comes back, you should tell him.’  “What you’ve done for me… And not just with Shane, but before that.  You went out of your way to give me rides so I wouldn’t be stuck out here, and you made time to hang out with me when you knew I was feeling alone, and you paid off the work on my car, and you gave me the best birthday I could have, under the circumstances.  And you have never once expected anything of me that I couldn’t give or asked me to be anyone but who I am.  You’ve never… never judged me for what I’m feeling or acted like it was some sort of personal slight if I was sad, and I- I didn’t know it was supposed to be like that.  I didn’t realise this was how it was supposed to feel... before you.”

He was watching her with a frown, unsure where this was going, and, when she paused to draw breath, he murmured her name.  Just her name.  “Tab.”

“I love you.”  The words burst forth from her, unable to be contained anymore, and she watched as a kaleidoscope of emotions passed over his face: surprise, disbelief, amusement, as if he thought she might be joking, and then, finally, a small smile tugged at his lips, and she couldn’t help but push herself up on to the tips of her toes to kiss him, sinking into him as she felt him relax against her.  When she pulled back, he was gazing at her, as if she was the sun or an angel or something just as momentous, and then he was ducking his head to hide his flushing cheeks, staring down at her hands where they rested against his chest.  “Say something, please.  I know I lied to you, and I know I hurt you, but it was… It was only because I didn’t want to lose you, because, I swear, Daryl, you’re the best thing in my life; the only thing, really.  And, I promise, I won’t ever, ever hurt you again.  I would never want to hurt you.  I’m so sorry.”

“I ain’t the only thing,” he pointed out, and she felt her heartbeat falter until he glanced up, arching a playful brow at her.  “Ya got Carol an’ Maggie.  Hell, Rick sat up half the night with ya, so I’d say ya’ve won him over.”

“Daryl!”

He smirked, but it soon disappeared, slipping into something more serious, and he nodded, dipping down to press his forehead to hers, bringing them almost nose to nose.  “Ya don’t got nothin’ to be sorry for, Tab.  I lost my temper, an’ I ain't never gonna forgive myself for that.  If I hadn’t… If I’d just heard ya out, then Shane might not’a… Ya might not’a got hurt.  S’my fault, an’ I ain’t never gonna stop tryn’a make it up to ya.”

“No, Daryl, you... You’re the reason I’m still here; the reason I feel safe enough to leave the house.  Not one part of it was your fault, and you still… You risked everything to fix it, to make it better.  I still can’t believe what you did for me.”

“I’d do anythin’ for ya.”  

She kissed him again then, couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d wanted to, but she knew now that it was okay, that they'd untangled themselves from the web of guilt that they’d both been caught up in, their apparently needless apologies setting them free.  As if to reassure her further, Daryl wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her so tight against him that her ribs ached and she felt breathless, but she didn’t even try to pull away.  She wasn’t sure that she’d ever felt so wanted, so needed, so loved in all her life, and it was dizzying, so that she had to cling to him to stop the room from spinning, and, when they finally broke apart, she buried her face in the crook of his neck, letting the familiar scent of him wash over her and calm her racing pulse. 

“Tab…”  His voice was a rough rasp, and it seemed to vibrate right through her, making her knees weak.  “Me too, y’know?”

“What?”  She pulled back to frown at him, confused.

“What ya said… Me too.”  He shrugged, avoiding her gaze for a moment and, when he looked back to her, his cheeks had darkened to a deep pink.  “Never thought I’d have somethin’ like this, but ya make it easy.”

“So, you’ll stay then?” she asked, her heart just about ready to burst because she couldn't even imagine being at peace now anywhere but where he was. But she also knew that she needed to honour her father and make the cabin a home again, to find the closure that she now knew she needed, and she was sure that Daryl recognised that too.

“I’ll stay,” he agreed, reaching up to tuck her hair back behind her ear, “help ya fix what’s broken.”

“Does that include me? Because I'm pretty sure I'm still kinda broken; just a little.”

“Might as well.”  His eyes were sparkling, and she knew her grin must match his own, enjoying the light-heartedness after the weight of their confessions, because, it seemed, he made it easy too.  “S’a big job though.  Could take years.”

“Could take a lifetime,” she teased, but, deep down, it was what she hoped for, what she knew she wanted more than anything else.

“Well then, guess I better get to work.”

*****

Drop me an ask if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists!  Tags will be on the first reblog.

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs get my motor runnin’! 🖤 Thank you for reading this series, and I really hope you enjoyed it x

[pompompurin1028]

In Everything

Summary: After using corruption and nearly killing a subordinate in the process, Chuuya once again finds himself questioning his humanity

A/N: Chuuya deserves so much :’) This fic was inspired by this fanart I saw on Instagram, so please also go show the amazing artist some support <3 

Pairing: Chuuya x reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol, blood, spoilers for season 3, minor ln spoilers? (it should be fine since I hadn't read it either but just in case)

My Masterlist

Chuuya could still vividly feel the effects of corruption against his skin. 

He recognized the familiar sensation of it clung onto him, even tighter than the clothes that adorned his body. It felt almost stifling, like it was still squeezing the breath out of his lungs, dragging him to the bottoms of the ocean, as it slowly stole his breath away... Little by little... As if it were digging into his skin with every breath, still trying to drain the life out of him, even after a day has passed since he allowed the true potentials of his ability to be unleashed.

Tracing his gloved hand against the bottom of the wine glass, for a second, Chuuya attempted to admire the way the deep ruby red drink glistened against the shimmering pale moonlight in the darkness of his home, to calm the racing yet uneven beats of his own heart. Yet part of him wished not to do so, for the clear thumps of it that sounded throughout his body were like a calming and reassuring sign that he too was a living, mortal, sentient being. He recalls fondly how you enjoy laying against his chest, voicing out that you enjoying listening to his heart beat, with his arms circled around you form in a warm embrace.

Feeling a sense of serenity slip into his racing mind at the thought of you, Chuuya finally allowed himself to raise his glass towards his lips, to drown away the sorrowful thoughts, along with the sickening sensations on his skin in a single gulp. Which he hoped would bring him at least pause from the thoughts that swirled his mind from last night’s events. Yet as he found his gaze once again meeting the almost scarlet-coloured liquid, Chuuya could feel the bile rising up onto his throat at the recognition of how similar the colour was to the blood that stained his bare hands the night before. 

Though Chuuya was by no means foreign to this sensation, nor the sight of it due to his position in the mafia. With the image of his subordinate badly injured right before his eyes, the sticky sensation of his blood on his hands as the first thing he could recall feeling after grasping the corners of sanity and consciousness that his ability had robbed him of. The same sensation he recalled trying to rub out of his skin constantly in the shower until his skin felt raw. But at the knowledge that his own ability had nearly taken the life of one of his own, the immense sense of fear and the almost ear shattering scream echoing across the battle field, at least for Chuuya’s ears at that current state, how could it not have him feeling sick to the stomach? Till now, it was as if he could still hear the sound ringing in his ear...

“Chuuya?” Though your tried your best to speak softly, already knowing that he would be deep in thought about the incident. Yet, the sudden voice that broke him from his thoughts was still enough to cause a rise of panic within him.

His grip slipping from the glass he was holding in his hand earlier, the two of you couldn’t help but wince as the sharp sound of shattering glass rang through the room, spilling the ruby red wine onto the ground whilst Chuuya mutters a curse under his breath at his actions and inability to save the glass in time.

“Y/N? Shit. Don’t come out of nowhere like that...” You could hear him mumble, his voice laced with a sigh of exhaustion. Though you had long been sitting at the corner of the room observing his state, you could not bring the heart to correct him knowing that it was the least important thing at the moment.

You watched with an aching heart as Chuuya barely allowed himself to meet your eyes, clouded with emotions as he set his gaze downcast instead, just watching the wine as it continued to spill across the carpet. But distracted as he is with his piling thoughts, Chuuya could only stare at his arm resting against his side. Trying to stuff out the memory of Arahabaki’s maniacal laughter overtaking his body and his mind as he slowly relented himself of control of the reins controlling his mind. And each time, Chuuya could only swallow down the surge of panic that arises from the deepest part of himself, urging a scream to rip out of his throat, yet being unable to as he consciously feels himself being stuffed to the back of his own mind, in the dark... slowly but surely losing control of his own self, his own thoughts, fading into inhumanity... 

Letting out a sarcastic laugh, you could feel your own concern bubble up inside you as you continued to look at your significant other. “It seems I am not that different from Q after all... What a hypocrite I am....”

“Chuuya, no-” you attempted to reassure him.

“Losing control, killing people on our own side! How different are we really?.” Chuuya brought his hand up to look at it. “And I had the audacity to...” he slowly trailed off.

“Chuuya, listen to me!” Grabbing his hand in the hopes of getting his attention to focus on your words rather than his own spilling thoughts.

“Don’t-” The panic was clear in his voice as he took a step back from you in the moment of fear. “Please...” his voice softened, allowing an unusual amount of vulnerability to shine through.

“Shit. Y/N, I’m so sorry.” Chuuya cursed with a shaky breath, finally meeting your eyes with a weak and apologetic expression. It was not the first time that you have seen him in such a state, having been with Chuuya for a couple years, it was inevitable that he revealed at least some of his thoughts about his own insecurities with his identity and humanity, albeit rarely. Yet it was the first time you’ve seen him so... broken and lost.

“Hey,” you took a step closer towards him to close the small distance he created. Though it seemed as if he wished to move away from you, a flash of worry across his eyes as you did so, he remained still. “It’s alright, it’s all over now, you don’t have to worry anymore.” Raising a hand, you brought it towards his cheek, your thumb brushing against it gently to calm him.

Reaching out to grasp his right hand gently in yours, and passing him a smile, you rolled up his black glove a little to place a chaste kiss on the scar upon his wrist. Seeing him flush red at the small act, you let out a soft laugh, which only brought you to a sight of Chuuya watching you fondly.

As you proceeded with your actions of taking off his glove, you could hear Chuuya once again protesting. "Wait-"

"It's fine Chuuya, I'm not scared." Gently sliding the familiar black gloves off his hands, you took it into your own, placing it against your cheek, and yours on top of his.

"If it wasn't for that... shitty Dazai, with these hands, I would've killed him, I could hurt others, even you," his voice slowly faded as he continued. "I rely on others to prove my humanity, to give me an identity, their interactions with me ground me with the belief that, maybe I am not a vessle carrying a dangerous ability, that I am safe to interact with. That, maybe, just maybe, I am human and can't just lose control with the utterance a damn phrase." Finally allowing himself to indulge in your tenderness, you could feel him wrapping his arms around you, holding you close as he buries his head near the crook of your neck.

"And once everyone is gone, I'll be left with nothing but the corruption inside of me. Isn't that pathetic?" You could feel his breath tickling against your ear, his voice almost seemed to break. You couldn't help but wonder if he was actually doing so to prevent you from seeing his current expression.

"What are you talking about, Chuuya?" You held him close to you. "Your humanity is scattered everywhere, in everything that you put your heart into. Like in the cooking that you make me when you're not busy, in the meaning behind all the things you have gifted me with. In the ways you care and help your subordinates, in how they grow with your words kept in mind."

"Even if they're gone, these things will stay. In memories, in their meaning, in other's character. You have left your mark of humanity on this world, trust me. And as your significant other, of course I would know." You continued, grasping his hand tight in yours to reassure him that you're there with him.

"But don't worry I'll be here with you, I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you Y/N, for everything..." He held you even closer into his arms. Perhaps a few things were still a mess, but that was alright. At least for now, with you, he'll be fine, even just for tonight.

Tag list @requiem626k @shadyteacup @alittlesimp @greenshirtimagines @jadegreenimmortality​ @sakikoshi  @kenmasbbygrl @dazaisusedbandages  @jessbeinme15 @mikasa-stan-account @missrown ​ @ginswife @tender-rosiey @bsdparadise @internetkilledtheroxstar @n1kolaiz @whorefordazai @shamelesspastawobblerland​ @rirk-ke if you would like to be tagged with I post comment on my tag list or send an ask!

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Veritaserum Prompt Fic (Part 9)

(It has been a minute since I've posted anything on this fic. Sorry friends-thanks for your patience! If you'd like you can start at the beginning, Part 1 on Tumblr and click through or head over to AO3 to read the whole thing.) ============

One week.

It took one week for Draco to make all of the arrangements; to brew the potion and to get in touch with Granger to make a plan without Harry knowing.

None of it was easy, of course. Harry spent so much time with him that it was hard to have secrets, but Draco couldn't ever find it in himself to complain. If he was a better man maybe it would have gone faster but in the grand scheme of things what was one week against the balance of the rest of his life?

But, as he stirred the potion seven times counter-clockwise and it changed to a dark purple, he knew that his time was up. This was the last piece. He already had the portkey from Granger that would deliver him to her house, she'd drawn up the contract that he would sign when he got there granting Harry immunity, and now the sleeping draught was complete. A few drops in the tea that he was going to make for Harry right before bed and he'd be able to leave.

His heart clenched traitorously and his brain continuously searched for ways to weasel its way out of spending his life in prison. But this was the only way. The only that Harry would have a chance at the life that he deserved after all he'd been through. It wasn't fair for him not to get to enjoy the world he'd saved.

It was time for Draco to do the right thing. For once. He had to, Harry was his now and he had to protect him, he had to do what was best for him. The only way to give Harry his freedom was to give up his own.

"Hey," Harry said, voice warmer than the sunshine on the beach as he wrapped his arms around Draco's waist and buried his face in the side of Draco's neck, interrupting Draco from his thoughts. And Draco's entire soul ached.

(Read more below the cut)

"Hi yourself," he managed, keeping his voice light and cheerful.

He felt Harry grin against his neck, "How are you?" he asked as through they hadn't seen each other a mere hour ago.

"Good," he whispered, pressing back into Harry's arms, because how could he be anything else when Harry was holding him. "Did you finish that table you were building?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, kissing the spot just behind Draco's ear that made him feel a bit weak in the knees. "I thought maybe we could eat dinner outside."

He nodded, "Let me just tidy up out here first."

"Kay," Harry replied, pressing one more smacking kiss to his neck and making Draco laugh. "I'm going to start grilling the salmon we picked up yesterday, okay?"

He nodded. "I'll be out in a minute."

Harry gave him a wave and then disappeared out of the work room, traipsing through the green house.

Draco took a steadying breath and pulled out a small phial that he filled with the sleeping draught.

Only a few more hours.

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

And the hours passed far too quickly, eating dinner, then sitting close to the ocean where the waves could wash over their feet as they drank beer and laughed up at the stars.

"Harry?" he said.

"Mmh?" the other man asked, pressing his shoulder against Draco's.

He gave him a little smile, "This is the happiest I've ever been."

Harry turned his head to look at him and smiled back, "Yeah?"

Draco nodded.

"Me too," he replied, leaning in to kiss him softly.

His heart twisted uncomfortably in his chest, squeezing and wrenching like a wet towel being wrung out. "Love you," he whispered.

He felt Harry's smile as he kissed him, mouth stretched too wide, "I love you, too," he replied.

They sat staring out over the ocean for long moments and Draco knew he had to do it now. If he let the other man take him to bed, if he let Harry tell him how happy he was and how much he loved him, he wouldn't be able to do it.

"Do you want another?" he asked, pointing to Harry's beer. "I'm going to use the loo, I can grab you one while I'm up," he offered.

Harry tilted his head back to look up at him, curls spilling across his face and catching in the breeze. "Maybe a glass of water?"

"Alright," he replied, trying to figure out what he was going to hide the sleeping potion in as he brushed a few curly strands of hair out of Harry's eyes. "Be right back, then."

Harry caught his hand and tipped his head up so he could press a kiss to the inside of Draco's wrist and he felt his eyes well up. It shouldn't be possible to feel this much, shouldn't be possible for a heart to soar and clench at the same time.

He gave Harry's hand a squeeze before releasing him and heading toward the house, taking gasping breaths as he tried to calm down, tried to force the tears and the panic away. Once inside he looked around in the kitchen, water wouldn't mask the taste of the sleeping draught, he needed to find something else.

After a moment, he pulled down the biscuits that they'd baked together the day before, setting a few out on a plate, then pouring a glass of milk that he slipped several drops of the sleeping draught into.

It took him several minutes to work up the nerve, Merlin knew that he'd never been good at being brave; it's what had landed him in the situation in the first place. Squaring his shoulders, he levitated the plate and the glasses of milk, being sure to keep track of which one he'd put the potion into, outside to the beach.

Harry laughed when he saw him, reaching out to pluck the glass of milk closest to him from the air, "You're going to make me fat," Harry said. "And then you won't love me anymore."

Draco shook his head as he sat down next to Harry, leaning over to him to kiss him, "Impossible," he murmured. He cupped Harry's cheek, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone, "There is no possible version of us where I do not fall in love with you."

A pleased grin stretched Harry's mouth wide, "I wouldn't have pegged you as a romantic," he said.

"No?" Draco asked as he picked up one of the cookies.

Harry shook his head, "I would have imagined you having sharp edges still, with practical ways to show your love, not all-" he broke off and gestured to Draco, "soft."

He shrugged one shoulder, "We've had enough sharp, haven't we?" he asked.

"Definitely," Harry agreed, taking a cookie off the plate and dunking it into the milk.

Draco swallowed against the guilt and the desire to just make it all stop.

"These turned out really well," Harry said through a mouthful of cookie. "I can't believe you'd never baked cookies before yesterday."

He smiled, "Lots of firsts here."

The corner of Harry's mouth tipped up and he leaned over to kiss Draco again, soft and sweet. "What should our next first be?" he asked when he pulled back.

"I don't know," Draco replied, watching him dunk his cookie again, the milk soaking it and making a chunk break off and sink to the bottom.

"Drat," Harry said before taking a bite out of the remainder of it. "I've always wanted to take a trip to the states," he said. "And we all know that the Ministry doesn't work well with the one in the states. We probably wouldn't even have to hide."

He hummed, watching as Harry stifled a yawn.

"I want to go to that muggle amusement park," he added.

"Alright," Draco agreed. "We'll go, then."

Harry gave him one of those guileless grins of his before starting to lift the glass of milk to his lips.

"Kiss me," Draco blurted, needing just one more kiss before the end.

The other man obliged him, "Twist my arm," he said with a wink, leaning over and drawing Draco closer, so he could kiss him.

"Sorry," Draco said when they broke apart, "Finish your milk and biscuit."

"Don't be sorry," Harry said, "I will kiss you any time, love. Literally anytime." He drained his glass of milk, making a pleased little hum when he caught the piece of the biscuit he'd lost earlier.

The effects of the potion were immediate, as they always were, Draco watched as Harry's eyes started to droop.

"Merlin," he said through a yawn, "Draco I'm exhausted all of the sudden."

He nodded, "Let's go to bed," he offered, standing up and reaching for Harry's hands.

Harry allowed himself to be tugged to his feet and he stumbled into Draco, his body sinking into him like they'd been made to fit together.

"I've got you," Draco whispered, wrapping his arm around him and holding him for a minute, memorizing the curves of his body and the way they felt pressed together. "Come on," he said after a minute.

"Don't wanna," Harry mumbled against his collarbone. "M'comfortable."

"Bed will be more comfortable," Draco assured him, nudging him toward the house.

"You'll be there, too?"

"Yeah," he whispered, knowing that his heart would live here with the other man, tucked between his ribs next to his own for safe keeping.

He managed to navigate Harry inside and they crawled into bed, Harry curled around him, drawing Harry's back against his chest and holding him.

"Love you," Harry mumbled sleepily.

"I love you too," he managed, throat tight and raw as he clutched Harry tighter and held him impossibly closer. He stayed there for longer than was strictly necessary, Harry's body was lax in his arms, he let out a soft huff snore ever few exhalations, and there wasn't a doubt in Draco's mind that the other man was in a deep sleep.

"Okay," he whispered to himself. "Okay, you've got to get up." He pressed a kiss to the soft skin on the back of Harry's neck and slid out from under him, drawing away. "Don't think about it," he muttered as he made his way out of his room, quietly closing the door.

He went to the island in the kitchen and left a note, the closest thing to a love letter he'd ever written, and laid his wand on top of it.

"Don't think about it," he repeated, opening the cupboard under the sink and digging out the old scrub brush that Granger had sent him. He took a breath and closed his eyes, not giving himself even one more moment to think and talk himself out of it, and activated the portkey.

He was sucked through time and space, and the next thing he knew his feet hit the floor in an unfamiliar living room. The door opened and Granger and Weasley came in a moment later.

"Sorry," Granger said, "We weren't sure when you were coming."

"It's fine," he said, breathing through his nose and trying to fight the tears prickling the back of his eyes.

Granger held out a parchment, "You're sure you know what you're doing?"

He nodded and reached out for the quill set out on the desk.

"Malfoy," she said, pulling the contract back, "Draco," she added, voice soft in a way that made Draco want to cry and scream. "If you sign this you can never appeal the decision the court reached. You will be in prison for the rest of your life."

"I know."

Weasley cleared his throat, "Does Harry know you're here?"

"No," he said, looking up at them. "No, I gave him a sleeping draught. He can't know until it's finalized," he added. "You saw what happened at the trial. He's so-" he shook his head, he couldn't say it, couldn't make himself voice the words. Not to them, not to anyone; they were his, all he had left, and he buried them in his chest where his heart used to be. "He can't know."

"Are you certain?" Granger asked again.

"Give it to me," he snapped. "Just give me the damn contract. I can only be tested so many fucking times and if you think leaving Harry wasn't hard enough, if you think-" He broke off, realizing that he was gasping in ragged breaths and that tears had spilled down his face. He wiped his eyes furiously. "We all know that I am not the pinnacle of valor. Doing what is right when it is difficult has never been my strong suit. So please," he said, "please stop asking me."

"You love him, too," Weasley breathed as though it was some sort of revelation.

He snatched the contract from Granger's hand and signed it before either of them could say anything else. "You said you'd have someone from the ministry ready to take me?" he said, thrusting his chin up in the air and refusing to give in to the urge to break down.

"I'm taking you," she said softly.

He nodded, "let's go, then."

"Is there anything-" Weasley started.

He shook his head and ignored the way a tear slipped down his cheek, "There is only one thing I want and we all know I can't have him."

"Come on, then," Granger said, holding out her elbow.

Just as they apparated Weasley called out, "You're a good person, Draco Malfoy."

"He's right, you know," she said when their feet hit the ground.

Draco shook his head, "I'm not, obviously," he said gesturing to the prison doors they were about to walk through. "Will you do something for me?" he asked.

She nodded, "What do you need?"

"Don't let him do anything stupid," he said.

She laughed, "I've spent my whole life failing at that."

"Tell him it's okay," he pleaded, "It's fine to move on, to live a happy life. Tell him I want that for him." He swallowed around the tears. "Tell him he deserves to be happy more than anyone, that he deserves the best life," he said, an ugly sob escaping.

Before he knew what was happening, Granger wrapped him in her arms and pulled him into an uncomfortably tight hug. "We'll figure this out," she said fiercely.

He pulled back, shaking his head and wiping his face. "Don't. And please don't say that to him."

She searched his face for a long moment and Draco tried to pull himself together. "Right," she said, nodding once and squaring her shoulders, "This way."

He closed his eyes and let the memory of the sound of the waves crashing to shore, of Harry's hand in his, and the warm sun on his face, fill him up one more time before the darkness ahead.

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

Part 8 | Part 10

[alldagayships]

Like Dewdrops - Kit/Ty

Short fanfic inspired by a comic by @toka-sketch

(I was basically bullied into writing this by @kieran-lovebot and @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped, so you have them to thank)

(By the way it’s not very good)

(Read at your own risk)

(I’m really bad at self-promo, if you couldn’t tell.)

If I could gather all the tears I spilled for you, they would cluster like dewdrops and form an ocean.

"Kit!"

As soon as his name left Ty's lips--it seemed as if Ty's lips were made to speak his name--Kit turned. His golden hair was damp, weighed down by the moisture that accumulated between its fine strands. Yet still it gleamed like the sun, bright against the dark background of the night. His eyes were half-hidden by the heavy locks that fell in front of them, their blue light as piercing as a sharpened sapphire.

If only your eyes could carry my ocean; but they are too alive to carry the burden of something so hopeless.

"Ty?"

Somehow, Ty was in Kit's arms. His hands clutched at Ty's shirt, and Ty buried his own into the soft fabric on Kit's back. He could feel the warmth of his skin, the solid shape of his shoulders, the slight tremble of his body. He clung on to Kit, the way he'd never thought to before. He should have held him at every chance he got, held him closer than he'd ever held anyone.

If I'd known we couldn't have infinity, I would have kept you with me and never let you leave.

They were on the ground: Ty had knocked Kit over in his haste. But who wouldn't be hasty when the thing they had wanted and had and needed and lost was right back in front of them, found again? Who wouldn't rush to snatch it up and make sure it was real, to claim it for their own?

Ty had been so quick to run to Kit that he hadn't noticed the flush on his cheekbones, the tangles in his hair, the ash and charcoal smudged on his bare skin. Ty wanted to say something, to do something, to tell Kit all the thoughts he'd had, all the times he lay thinking about him. The regrets and the realizations that had hit him like a crushing gravity since Kit had gone lay on the tip of his tongue. Ty longed to let them spill out, but for the first time, he was afraid that he would say the wrong thing to Kit.

If you would hold me as tightly as I hold on to you, you would understand everything without me saying it.

"What's wrong?"

Kit drew back from Ty as he spoke, and reached his hand up to Ty's head. He threaded his fingers into Ty's hair. Warmth spread through Ty. He closed his eyes and relaxed into Kit's hand, snuggling closer as Kit's fingers wove the dark strands away from Ty's forehead. The corners of Ty's mouth lifted into a soft smile. Affection beat through his body like blood through his veins. He could only think of how gentle Kit's hand was, how comforting his presence was, how he wanted to stay like this for as long as he could. What would happen if he curled up right here, with Kit beside him, and they stayed there, and he didn't have to worry about anything, and he would be happy with Kit and Kit with him? He opened his eyes a crack and gazed fondly up at Kit.

If I could make you understand how you make me feel, if you could see the stars in your own eyes as I stare into them, when would you get bored and leave?

"It's nothing."

Kit drew his hand back suddenly. The absence of it was enough to snap Ty out of his stupor and open his eyes fully. Kit was crouching on the wet cement, his head bent over and his face stuffed into his arms. Was he okay? Was he injured, or cold? What did he need? The bit of Kit's face that Ty could see was pale, and his eyes, peeking out from under his arm, seemed distant and as sharp as the tip of a needle. Ty wanted to comfort him, to reach a hand out and make the tension in his muscles ease with a touch. The look in Kit's eyes stopped him when his hand was halfway there. Confusion stirred in Ty's stomach.

"Kit?"

If happiness was not so easy to lose and not so difficult to gain, we would have it all and I would never worry about you.

"Hey, Kit."

Ty let his arm drape over his knees and hugged them to his chest. He grinned dopily and pressed his face to the crack between his knees. A giddy feeling ran through him, like when he watched small puppies chase each other around with a carefree joy. The only time Ty felt like that was around Kit. With a small sound, Kit lifted his head and looked up. His whole face was red, and Ty could feel his cheeks burning, too, as he drank in the sight of Kit. Energy seemed to be rolling off of him in waves, making the blue of his eyes jump out, the movement of his throat as he swallowed, the breath escaping his nose. Ty's smile and that giddy feeling turned into something deeper, an emotion so intense, compelling him, and he couldn't stop himself when he reached out again.

If I could control myself around you, how much pain would we have evaded, how many blades could have been turned away from us?

"Christopher."

It was barely a whisper, a rush of air, as light as Ty's hand on Kit's face, cradling his cheek, his chin, pressing against his chapped lips. Kit's eyes were fixed on Ty's face, round and blue, magnified by unspilled tears. His brow was drawn in, his features forming an almost worried expression. But why would he be worried? There was nothing wrong, nothing to fear. Just him and Ty.

If we could run away, how soon would it be before I drove you back?

"I'm so happy to have you."

Ty leaned closer to Kit until their foreheads brushed together. A sense of surety and calm settled over Ty. This was right, this was how things were supposed to be, this was how things would always be. Kit's face in Ty's hand, his palm on Ty's sleeve, his lips so close that Ty could feel where the air was stirred between them. Ty's heart was beating so fast in his chest that he knew Kit could feel it.

If you have this effect on me now, how will it feel when you split me apart like a fallen branch?

"Really?"

The word barely registered in Ty's mind. He was too focused on Kit, on everything about him. He shifted his head infinitesimally closer, closer, closer, until there was barely a centimeter between their faces.

If I can finally know you like this, maybe I will be able to think straight.

And then suddenly Ty was being thrown back against a wall, and Kit's hands were on his shoulders. The force with which Ty's head hit the brick reverberated through his body. Kit's fists, far from gentle, as they had been before, were digging into Ty's shoulders, his arms, as stiff and straight as arrows, pinning Ty against the wall. Kit's back was curved, as if his body was bending over itself to get as far away from Ty as possible. There was a ferocity in him that Ty had never seen before, never imagined would be directed at him.

"Then tell me why, Ty?"

If you love me, if we can get through it together, why did you leave me?

"Why didn't you listen to me?"

If I could know every word you'd ever said, I would memorize it all.

"How could you do this?"

If you leave, how could we get through it together?

"To Livvy..."

If my sister could see this happen, what would she say?

"To me..."

If you'd refused at the start, where would we be?

"It's your fault."

If it's my fault, why do I not feel guilty?

"Ty. . . My Sherlock. . ."

If I'm yours, why can't you be mine?

"I loved you so much..."

If you could fill me up with all your love, how much empty space would there be?

"But now I-I..."

As Kit spoke--words that filled Ty's eyes with tears and chest with lead and head with throbbing thoughts that swirled and sank like oil in water--he'd loosened his grip on Ty's shoulders and moved his hands to Ty's jaw. They lay there, deceptively tender as he brushed his fingers over Ty's face. Ty was numb everywhere; he could barely feel the pressure of Kit's hands, or the hard brick behind him, or the cold of the chains that hung around his neck. Yet it was like the rest of the world was magnified, stretching out towards him, strangling his breath and tugging on his limbs and stretching out his skin.

And Kit's hands were still there, even though Ty couldn't feel them. In the back of his mind, the thought occurred to Ty that he could move away. That tantalizing ghost of a sensation on his face would be gone, and he wouldn't have to hear the rest of Kit's sentence. But another part of Ty that couldn't understand what was happening wanted to move forwards. Wanted to react to Kit's hands, to sink into his touch as he had just moments earlier, let himself be comforted.

If you blame me so much, why are yours the hands that bring me ease, yours the voice that mitigates the sting of reality?

Silence was the only thing Ty was truly aware of. The absence of Kit's voice, the sound of it as it had faded away. But now I... What? Now he what?

Ty swallowed--with as much difficulty as it would take to swallow a blade--and forced out, in a scratchy voice barely above a whisper, "Kit?"

It was like the second the words slipped past Ty's lips, a flip was switched in Kit. He flinched and yanked his hands back, anguish filling his face, tears welling from his eyes, falling--falling and landing perfectly on the ground like dewdrops. A sob choked its way up his throat, then words, words that had echoed in Ty's head and seemed to drain his energy and bleed the colour from his surroundings--

"I wish I'd never known you!"

If I knew how you would burn more than the wounds of consciousness, would I have welcomed the strain?

"Kit!!!"

He was gone. Cold air replaced the heat that had radiated from Kit's body. Stiff blankets twisted around Ty where the soft cloth of Kit's shirt had been. Ty's hand clutched the pillow beneath his head rather than the spun gold that was Kit's hair, moist from the dew in the air. The only constants were the tears that blurred his vision and the loops of metal around his neck. Despair filled Ty--at what, he didn't know. At what Kit had said in his dream? At what he had said in the past? At the image of Kit, in front of him? At losing him again? At having him again?

If I could have you back, would I take you without hesitation or would the fear of my nightmares hold me away?

A forced breath flew past Ty's lips as he felt his eyes tingle with another round of tears. He clenched his teeth, gripped his arms tightly, bit his lip, to keep any sound from following the sporadic inhales and exhales that shuddered through him. He squeezed his eyes shut and water seeped past his eyelids, catching on his eyelashes and tracing a path down the side of his head. His hand, covered in blood like the sheets tangled around him, flew to his mouth and smothered the sob that rose up against his will.

Kit.

Tears like rain.

I'm so sorry.

Like a river.

Please forgive me.

Like a current.

I miss you, Watson.

Like an ocean.

I love you.

Like dewdrops.

[nickyhemmick]

A Very Stressed American Jew here again,

Hi! Thank you for taking the time to respond to my ask and yes, I’m someone who loves hearing as many perspectives as possible so I’d love some sources from you. I also very much appreciate the fact you are being very careful to only reblog posts that are anti Israel, not antisemetic (which is frankly a breath of fresh air, the internet has been a bit exhaustingly full of both antisemitic & Islamaphobic content these past feel days as I bet you’ve seen)

I’ve also been to Israel on a Birthright trip. We met people who ( both Palestinian and Israeli) on various sides of the conflict and learned a ton about it, from both perspectives which I was lucky to have the opportunity to do. We even went a little into the Gaza Strip to talk to these people running a pro Palestine peace movement and it was so important to me hearing those stories.

I never said they were on equal footing militarily, they definitely are not, Israel definitely has that advantage. But you are incorrect about Israel always being the aggressor since 1948,they’ve defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Isreal is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack.

I 100% agree that there are too many people who are compliant with the mistreatment of many Palestinians! I’m not anti #freepalestine at all! I get why that is a thing. But I also stand with Israel( but that does not mean I condone every action they take. ) Overall I think the situation is extremely complicated and some sort of compromise should be reached.

It’s just been very frustrating to see so many people reblog things on a situation just bashing Israel because so many others are doing it. Especially when then don’t know what they are talking about or using big buzz words that they don’t know what they mean, or spreading misinformation. It’s been on both sides and has been very very draining. I just want peace and some sort of solution. It makes me extremely happy you know what you are talking about and can debate politely yet happily about it. The internet has been so ‘ either agree with me 100% or you a bad person’ about this so it’s refreshing to see you are not like that.

I’ve done a lot of research into it from as many perspectives as I can get my hands on.

Some extremest Israelis are hurting Palestinians

Some extremest Palestinians are hurting Israelis

Both sides are throwing rockets at each other and it’s terrifying.

Both sides claim the other side is brainwashed

There is so much biased propaganda out there on both ends it’s hard to know what is truly happening.

I know people living in Israel who have sent me videos they’ve taken of rockets flying over there heads and I’m so scared for them. I’m so scared for all the innocent people caught in the crossfire on both sides.

Thank you for a more nuanced response and I’d love some of your sources,

A Very Stressed American Jew

Hi anon, 

I wasn’t going to respond to this until after my math final tomorrow but I’ve spent the past two days thinking of your ask and the things I wish to articulate in my answer. 

I am going to start here: how can you say you support Israel but say you are also pro-free Palestine (as in, you said you are not anti free Palestine). In my opinion, these two ideas cannot coexist. Simply because, the entire establishment of Israel has been on violent, racist, colonial grounds. 

(Super long post under here guys)

You said you don’t support all Israel’s actions, and definitely, just because you support something doesn’t mean you can’t criticize it. However, in my opinion, if you do not support Israel’s actions against Palestinians there’s not much left to support? I admit this is a very biased view as I am Palestinian, but many things that people support about Israel have existed before its creation: as in, these are things and qualities that have existed in Judaism and are not due to “Israeli culture.” There is no Israeli culture. There’s Jewish culture--100%. But there is no Israeli culture, because Israel does not only steal Palestinian land, but Palestinian culture, too. Such as claiming Levant food is Israeli; hummus, ful, falafel, shawarma. I mentioned food from this article I know is culturally and traditionally of the Levant, and has been for centuries, it is not something that has come to culinary creation in the past 73 years. 

I do not think this is a complicated issue. I said that in the previous ask and I’ll say that again. Saying it is a complicated issue is trivializing the deaths of innocent Palestinians, the violent dispossession our ancestors endured, and the apartheid they live under. I hope if anything comes from this discussion it is you removing the “it’s a complicated issue” phrase from your vernacular. 

This is not complicated. A journalist reporting the death of martyrs only to discover that of them include two of his brothers is not complicated. The asymmetry of Israel vs Palestinian armed forces is not complicated, nor is the asymmetry in Israeli vs Palestinian suffering (which I will get to later). It is not complicated.  Destroying the graves of martyred Palestinians (or just in general, the graves of the dead) is not complicated. Little children being pulled from the rubble, children being forced to comfort one another as they are covered in the ashes of their decimated homes, attacking unarmed citizens in peaceful demonstrations (you can find videos before this attack where they were playing with kites and balloons), destroying an international media office and refusing to allow journalists to retrieve the work they are spending every waking hour documenting but claiming it was because it was a hide out for a “Hamas base,” fathers who are trying to cheer their frightened children up only to end up dead the next day, while many Israeli have the privilege and the option to go to hotel-like bomb shelters is not complicated. 

This brings me to my next point: the suffering of Palestinians cannot be compared to the inconvenience of Israeli’s. On one side, you have children who are happy to have saved their fish in the face of their homes and lives being decimated behind them to Israeli’s in Tel Aviv having to cut their beach day short to get to bomb shelters. You have mothers and fathers ready to set their lives down for their children to save them from bombs to Israeli’s enjoying their brunch only after making sure there are bomb shelters there. You have Palestinian children being murdered to blocking out the sound of sirens in the safety of your bomb shelters. (The first picture of the Palestinian child is not from footage of the recent problems). You have the baby lone survivor of a whole family recovered from rubble. His whole family, gone, before he ever had the chance to realize that he even exists, while Israeli’s decide to flee out of the country,(Translate the caption from Twitter, it checks out), or have to leave the shower due to sirens. Who is really suffering? 

I won’t sit here and pretend like the thought of rockets flying over my head, no matter which side I am on, is not terrifying. It is. It’s scary to just think about. But Israeli’s have protection beyond Palestinian’s, they have sirens to warn them (Israel does not always warn Palestinian building members that it is about to be bombed), they have the Iron Dome, they have simply the threat of nuclear power (which I am not saying Israel would use, but the simple fact they have it would make me feel a lot better if I were an Israeli citizen) and they have bomb shelters. What do Palestinians have? Hamas? That smuggles its weapons through the ocean? That only ever reacts to the action Israel instigates? And yet Gazans are branded terrorists and that it is their fault that they “elected” a terrorist organization that only was ever created due to no protection from any armed country? (There are so many links I want to add in this paragraph but it is simply impossible for me to add everything I want, a lot of what I’m referring to can either be found through a Google search, or you can stalk my Twitter account, all that I am posting now is about Palestine, and will include sources of things I cannot add in just this one post.) 

Look, I see myself in the genocide happening in Palestine right now. I see myself in this ten year-old girl. In this three year old girl. I see me and my family in videos of cars being attacked in Ramallah and Sheikh Jarrah (I cannot find the Ramallah video, should be somewhere on my Twitter), I see my father in the countless videos of fathers crying out for their children, of kissing the corpse of their loved ones (again, translate the Tweet, the man holding the body is saying “just one kiss”). I see my grandfather in videos like this (old footage). I see my younger brother, I see my grandmother, my mother, my aunts and uncles and cousins. I see myself and my life and my family were my father not lucky enough to get a scholarship to the UK and out of Palestine, were my maternal grandfather not been lucky enough to make it to a refugee camp and build a life in Jordan. I have an unbelievable amount of privilege to be born into the life I was born in to, in terms of I do not have the threat of bombs and violent dispossession around me, and I do not even live in the US. I have privilege and sheer luck that my parents were able to go to the US so that me and my brothers can be born, because now I have both the protection of the most powerful country in the world while at the same time being part of a people to have suffered so generously the past seventy-three years. 

On the other hand, you saying that Israel has “defended themselves about as often as they’ve attacked. Israel is a small country comparatively to the ones surrounding it, so it makes sense it defends itself heavily in case of an attack,” I offer you this question: why are they using military grade guns and stun grenades in mosques to “defend” themselves from rocks? And before you mention that Hamas hit Tel Aviv, I remind you that Hamas did that due to the violence in the Al-Aqsa mosque square and the attempted ethnic cleansing in Sheikh Jarrah. The violence didn’t begin with us; the violence was brought out of Palestinians in resistance to the generations of oppression we have endured and the attack on Palestinian Muslims during the holiest night of Ramadan. Hamas has since asked for a ceasefire multiple times and Israel is refusing. New reports say there is a possibility of a ceasefire in the coming days, but Israel could have decided this a long time ago and spared many lives. (Remember, no matter what resistance we make, Israel is the one in power).

Israel has been the aggressor since 1948. Just read up about the Nakba! 700k Palestinian families were dispossessed violently. The only reason Israel was established at all was because it simply declared it was now a country and the US and many other countries recognized it as such. (Of course, there are many other historical details here, like the British Mandate of Palestine, the Balfour Declaration, the Oslo Accords and many others. I am aware of them but these are for a different post all together). My paternal grandfather was a little younger than me when Israel as a state was created. The hostility that followed was due to this independent declaration being listened to over Palestinian voices. 

Here is a very, very simplified analogy, one that can also answer some people’s questions as to why Palestinians (not Arabs, we are Palestinian before we are Arab) did not like what happened in 1948 and why they refused a two-state solution (that Israel was never going to go through with anyway). (I am also aware other Arab nations got involved, and that is perhaps what you mean when you said they had to defend themselves, but my response to that would still be we didn't start it, that we only responded to it).

Let’s say you are a farmer. You have many fields of trees, ones you have taken shelter under from the sun since you were a child, or hid behind when you wanted to avoid your parents when you misbehaved. You have seen your trees grow from a seed, to a sprout, to a flower, to a large, beautiful tree with fruits the size of a fist. You pluck the fruits from one tree, and make a jam from it. I don’t know how to make jam but I know it takes a lot of energy. So, you make this jam and from it, produce a lovely, mouth-watering pie. Once it has cooled from the oven, you take it with you outside your balcony just so that you can admire the years, months, weeks and hours this one pie has taken to be created. Suddenly, a stranger walks past and yells to you, “That pie looks delicious, I want it!” And you, shocked at their boldness but ready to share, say, “I will give you a bite.” But the stranger says, “No! I do not want a bite or a slice or whatever you want to offer me, I want the pie!” And they grab it from you. You and the stranger start screaming at one another about who the pie is for, who is allowed to decide what happens to it, and who you can share it with. Then, another stranger comes by and says, “Why all the problems? Let’s cut the pie in half and the both of you can share it!” But why should you, who has spent years cultivating the fruit and grain inside this pie, share it? Why should you give up half of the 100% that you already owned? Of what you already had? So you disagree, and now a crowd has formed around you. “What’s the problem?” someone in the crowd calls. “They don’t want to share their pie!” another voice says. Then you become branded a selfish, mean bastard. Again, this is a super simplified analogy, so don’t take it too seriously, but I am trying to show you why Israel is the aggressor.

In addition, I do not know too much about the Birthright program, just that American Jewish people are sent to Israel, all expenses paid. I tried my best to find the Twitter thread but I read it so long ago, about an American Jewish person who went on their trip and they talked about the propaganda that they were exposed to on that trip. I can’t say for sure that it is true, because I haven’t been on it and never will, but that is the first thing I thought of when you mentioned your Birthright trip. Either way, I think it is still great you went and saw the country. However, I must ask you this: are the people you met ones you, yourself, sought out, or ones you were organized to meet?

Now, I haven’t been to Gaza, so I don’t know what you really saw or didn’t, but did you speak to Palestinians who lost their homes to airstrikes? Did you speak to siblings, parents or children of loved ones who had been lost beneath the rubble of buildings and towers? Outside of Gaza, did you speak to Palestinians that live in poor quarters? Ones who have been victims of an IDF soldier shooting them, or who have family members who have died from such attacks? Did they take you guys to Ramallah, to Nablus, to Beit-Imreen, to Jenin, to small villages in the West Bank, far away from Jerusalem and Tel Aviv? Did you speak to people there? Ask them their stories? Because if you did I have a very hard time believing you still think Israel is “defending” itself.

I’ve been to Jerusalem, many times, even Tel Aviv and Jaffa and Haifa. All the times I visited Dome of the Rock there were IDF soldiers with huge guns strapped to their person, standing menacingly outside the courtyard. For what? Genuinely, genuinely for what? It is nothing but an intimidation tactic. The same way we are not allowed in through the airport. If you could see the struggle some Palestinians actually go through just to get into Palestine, through the land border, you would be disgusted. I love Palestine, it is my ancestry land, it is my culture and tradition. But I always hated going to visit because I knew the way to getting there would be hell.

My father worked in Tel Aviv through the first Intifada. My maternal grandfather was forced out of his home in the Nakba and was forced to leave behind his belongings and the orange trees that have been in his family for generations. Hell, the town they lived in was destroyed! It doesn’t exist anymore except in the memories of my aunts and uncles, who never even saw it, but just heard of it from their father!

I’m not saying there aren’t Palestinians who are racist and anti-Semitic (though, tbh, I will direct you here for that) and who support Hamas in killing Israeli’s, but talking about how there are many “extremist” Palestinians who are hurting Israeli’s and in the next line say there are extremist Israeli’s who are hurting Palestinians is not correct. There are extremist Israeli’s killing, lynching, stealing the houses of Palestinians, and there are Palestinians who are fed up and fighting back. (I am not talking about Hamas vs the IDF here, I am talking about the citizens). I have not seen one reported death of an Israeli due to Palestinian violence (if you have, from a trusted source, send it to me), but I have seen countless of the other way around. I have seen images of charred little bodies, of a baby being dug out of the rubble, of a child’s body that had been so mutilated that you can literally see the insides of their body coming out. (I don’t know if it’s on my Twitter, I didn’t want to save that shit). If this was my country I would be absolutely ashamed of myself and my people and what they are doing in the name of my protection. So you have to forgive me, and forgive other Palestinians, who don’t give a fuck about Israeli’s having anxiety over rockets flying over their heads when we see these images. Where is the protection of our kids? Why does no one seem to mention them except when mentioning the poor, innocent ones in Israel? At least more than the majority of them have their parents to comfort and rock them. At least many of them will probably be saved of ever having to be beneath the rubble of a destroyed building, or digging in it, to hope to find the parts of their parents or siblings just so that they can bury them. Just the links from the start of my answer is enough to support what I am saying.

I have soooo much more I can say, like how Israel uses religion to distort the image of what’s going on (tbh, just check my Twitter for that: language is EVERYTHING), but you didn’t mention religion in any of this and so I won’t either. The only reason I decided to respond to you in such length was because you have been one of the few respectful anons in my inbox in the past few years of me being on here talking about Israel, so I appreciate that from you. 

As promised, some more sources: decolonizepalestine is a good place to start if you haven’t used it already, it has reading materials, myth busting, and more. Here is a map list of destroyed localities from pre-1948 until 2017, run by two anti-Zionist Israelis. Here and here are the articles I promised of a former IDF soldier-turned Palestinian activist, I read these two last year in June and remember coming out much more informed than before I read them. I suggest looking into the writer and his organization, which, if I remember correctly, collects accounts from previous IDF soldiers. I would suggest not to follow Israel and the IDF accounts on any platform, or any Israel times newspaper, simply because they will not tell you the truth. In fairness, you do not have to follow any Palestinian Authority accounts (which I am not even sure there are), but to follow on-ground Palestinians like Mohammed El-Kurd, who has been speaking out since he was 12 (he is now 22) and he is part of the families in Sheikh Jarrah. I have noticed that this and this account have been translating Arabic headlines and tweets for non-Arabic speakers, I have just started following this person but their bio says they are a Palestinian Jewish person so I am interested in their view of things. You can also follow Israeli’s on-ground and see their perspective on things, but I would also advise to compare the Palestinian and Israeli side of things from the people, and critically analyze the language used in each case. Also, this article references Jewish scholars opposed to the occupation (I have not looked into them myself but I plan to after my exams), and Norman Finklestein is another great Jewish scholar to look into if you haven’t. Twitter is better than Instagram and Facebook, so I would stick to getting live-info from there, Twitter does not censor Palestinian content as much as Insta and Facebook so you’re more likely to see things there.

I will end this by saying I personally do not see any other option for peace than to give Palestinians our land back. Whether we may be Muslim, Jewish or Christian, it has always been and will always be our land. I only hope to see it free in my lifetime. 

Free Palestine. 

[somerabbitholes]

Indian Non-Fiction

A list of books on India, almost all of which are by Indian writers; most of them are about history in one way or other but they also involve politics, culture, and religion. (Doesn’t include writing in Indian languages because most of my non-English reading has been limited to fiction). I’ve also added links to online editions for ones I found.

History

Pre-, Postcolonial India (+ other assorted history)

Land of Seven Rivers by Sanjeev Sanyal - looks at Indian history through its geography; great if you want an introduction. it’s a small book but has very interesting insights; definitely would recommend. Also check his Ocean of Churn, which looks at Indian history in terms of the Indian Ocean

The Lost River: On the Trail of the Sarasvati by Michel Danino - looks into the research and evidence on the existence of the Sarasvati river and makes a case for its existence

Hooghly: The Global History of a River by Robert Ivermee - about Hooghly as a centre of a trans-Asiatic and trans-oceanic commercial network

Indians: A Brief History of a Civilization by Namit Arora - what it says, it’s new and was well-received; it paints a holistic picture to start you off

Modern South India by Rajmohan Gandhi - this one’s new, and I’ve only barely read it. It’s the history of south India from the coming of the Portuguese to modern times and it’s really important because we don’t study about this or even talk about this in mainstream conversations

India Moving by Chinmay Tumbe - on migration within India and how migrants and migrations has shaped history, politics, and policy

The Courtesan, the Mahatma, and the Italian Brahmin by Manu Pillai - a selection of stories (real ones) from Indian history; very engagingly written and very, very interesting stories. Also check other works by Pillai - The Ivory Throne and Rebel Sultans. He also writes a regular column for the Mint

Panipat by Vishwas Patil - (a translation from Marathi) a history of the Battle at Panipat in 1761, which basically created a vacuum for the East India Company to step in and grab power; really expansive and highly detailed

Rama and Ayodhya by Meenakshi Jain - on the Ramayana and its cultural spread across Indian since the ancient times; also about the Ayodhya movement

Decolonizing the Hindu Mind by Koenraad Elst - lays down the ideological and intellectual development of the broad umbrella Hindu revivalist movement; really good starting point to understand the rise and development of a significant chunk of Indian politics in post-independence years; really straightforward work, very clear in its objectives

1962: the War that Wasn’t by Shiv Kunal Verma - on the Sino-Indian conflict in 1962; haven’t read it yet, but it’s supposed to be one of the best ones on the conflict

1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh by Srinath Raghavan - on the creation of Bangladesh; places the history in a Cold War context and includes all stakeholders like the US, China and Russia; has multiple layers to its narrative.The Most Dangerous Place by Srinath Raghavan - on American foreign policy in South Asia right from the earliest times.

Cricket Country by Prashant Kidambi - about how cricket took hold in colonial India and the making of the first all-India cricket team; super excited about this book, I added it to my list too

A Corner of a Foreign Field by Ramchandra Guha - on the growth of cricket in India; takes into account race, caste, and religion in pre- and postcolonial times; looks at how the sport was adapted in local cultures and how it became an expression of resistance

Himalaya: A Human History by Ed Douglas - basically what it says; very thorough and very fresh; about more than India because it takes Himalaya as a unit and so it’s really transnational in its approach

Colonial India

Plassey by Sudeep Chakravarti - a very detailed study of the Battle of Plassey which kicked off the colonial project in India

India’s War: World War II and the Making of Modern South Asia by Srinath Raghavan - on India’s involvement and contribution in World War II

An Era of Darkness by Shashi Tharoor - about the economic impact of the British Empire in India; highly elaborate and detailed work on the economic drain in India during colonisation

Goa Inquisition by A. K. Priolkar - about the Portuguese colonisation of Goa and the subsequent evangelical campaign by the Portuguese crown and the Roman church; very, very, thorough and great if you (like me) know nothing about the whole thing

Hicky’s Bengal Gazette by James Otis - on the development and running of India’s first English newspaper; a fun read because honestly the story of the paper is very dramatic and full of political/colonial gossip; also tells you a lot about the early ideas of free press in colonial India

Sati: Evangelicals, Baptist Missionaries, and the Changing Colonial Discourse by Meenakshi Jain - about the discourse on sati and the need for reform; reviews the idea of the abolition of sati being a progressive act

Castes of Mind by Nicholas Dirks - about the intersection of caste, race, and colonial knowledge and policy

Politics, Sociology, Commentaries

The Indian Trilogy by V. S. Naipaul - a semi-autobiographical work on the kind of civilisation Naipaul sees India to be; very, very honest; paints a picture of postcolonial India over the years. the trilogy includes An Area of Darkness, India: A Wounded Civilization, and India: A Million Mutinies Now. I’ve only read the first one; but I’ve heard and read great things about them all

Republic of Caste by Anand Teltumbde - about caste in post-Independence India; looks at political and policy-related developments and their impact on caste dynamics; sort of subaltern history; it is a little difficult to understand if you don’t already have some amount of knowledge on Indian politics; also a very academic work so not exactly easy to read - I’ve only read parts of it myself

Annihilation of Caste by Dr. B. R. Ambedkar - technically a speech that was never delivered because it was thought to be too explosive; argues that caste is rooted in oppression and for the complete destruction of the caste system; an excellent work, although you do need to know about caste in its religious and political terms. Really just read all of his writing (it’s an entire 14 volume set), they’re excellent and far ahead of their time

The Idea of India by Sunil Khilnani - an analysis of sorts of what pre-colonial and colonial society and the freedom struggle mean for the republic and the kind of nation-building that has happened.

A New India of India: Individual Rights in a Civilisational State by Harsh Madhusudan, Rajeev Mantri - rethinks the “idea of India”; traces cultural and historical legacy in making of modern politics, and explores how individual rights are reconciled with the state’s goals; great thing is that it takes a fresh look at things; perfect to be read after The Idea of India 

10 Judgements that Changed India by Zia Mody - recounts ten most important legal cases and court rulings in India; good starting point at understanding how the law works and its development

Republic of Religion by Abhinav Chandrachud - about secularism and religion in India in light of colonial rule, and its implications in postcolonial India

India Unbound by Gurcharan Das - it’s a history from the Independence to 2000 that focuses largely on the political economy and unpacks the kind of growth we’ve seen; it mixes the personal with the political/economic progress and it’s really easy to get into; best when read with his India Grows at Night

People

Kanshiram by Badri Narayan - a biography of Kanshi Ram, who pretty much laid the foundation of modern Dalit political movement in post-independence India; looks into how the movement developed under Kanshi Ram; a useful insight into both the man as well as early Dalit politics in India

Savarkar by Vikram Sampath - first part of a two-part biography (second part isn’t out yet) on V. D. Savarkar, one of India’s first revolutionary freedom fighter; looks at an insane variety of sources and highly detailed; a must read.

History Men by T. C. A. Raghavan - about the friendship of three of colonial India’s first native historians (Sir Jadunath Sarkar, G. S. Sardesai, Raghubir Sinh) and how they collaborated and supported each other in writing Indian history using scientific methods; also looks at their contributions to Indian history in general

Rammohun Roy by Amiya P. Sen - a biography of colonial India’s first social and religious reformers who reinterpreted Hinduism for modern times; very well-written, great for understanding how early reform worked out

Daughters of the Sun by Ira Mukhoty - about women in the Mughal dynasty. note that it only looks at women connected to and part of the royal household, but an interesting read nonetheless. Her other work, Heroines: Powerful Indian Women in Myth and History is a wonderful book on women in history right from the ancient times; also analyses and explains the changing perceptions of women

R. N. Kao: Gentleman Spymaster by Nitin Gokhale - really, really, really interesting book on R. N. Kao and the development of India’s espionage machinery

Art

Indian Art by Partha Mitter - a history, he’s one of the best on Indian art, very useful

The Dance of Shiva by Ananda Coomaraswamy - a collection of essays on Indian artistic tradition in aesthetic and philosophical terms

The Spirit of Indian Painting by B. N. Goswamy - specifically about painting; explores different themes in different regionals tyles; also check other books by Goswamy, he’s kind of a big deal in art history

Indian Painting: the Lesser Known Traditions by Anna Dallapiccola - pretty much what it says; takes into account a ton of styles and traditions that are lumped together ‘folk art’

Cities, Travel etc

The Great Indian Railway Bazaar by Paul Theroux - four-month journey from London to India by trains only; explores themes like colonialism, American imperialism, poverty. One of my favourites

The Epic City by Kushanava Chaudhary - memoir on Kolkata as the author explores and re-discovers the city when he comes back to it after staying in the US for most of his life; a lovely book, delves in the history of Kolkata a little in relation to how the city still feels it, how its people are still negotiating with it, and the kind of future the author sees for Kolkata

Bombay, Meri Jaan by Jerry Pinto & Naresh Fernandes - a collection of essays on Mumbai by a wide collection of people from Naipaul to Khushwant Singh to Manto and Salman Rushdie, compiled by Jerry Pinto; one of my favourites on the city

No Full Stops in India by Mark Tully - writings from when Tully was a journalist in India; commentaries on things he witnesses, also includes a fair amount of personal involvement; explores poverty, postcolonial development, religion and culture in post-independence India

Mumbai Fables by Gyan Prakash - a history of Mumbai city; looks at colonisation, industrial development, the regional politics, architecture and art, as well as the underworld/mafia

Banaras by Diana L. Eck - on Varanasi (Banaras), probably India’s holiest city; tells its history from its conception to now; blends religion, mythology, politics, and history. Also check Eck’s India: A Sacred Geography

The City of Djinns by William Dalrymple - semi-autobiography about living in Delhi; looks at the legacies of independence and partition while thinking about its past

The Book of Indian Journeys by Dom Moraes - it’s an anthology of essays and excerpts from works of a bunch of writers on travelling in India, it’s a favourite when I’m travelling

This is not exhaustive and I will keep updating when I find the time. I’ve tried to keep it diverse (and organised) in its content; hope you find something you like :)

[joestarwhore]

NSFW Yandere Josuke (18+) x Female reader

his little darling managed to escape her obsessive and derange boyfriend house while he was gone.

She trys to get help and does but the good samaritan is Jotaro who leads her back to Josuke thinking she was over reacting.

Josuke angry she escape he takes her back home and has idea to keep her safe and home by finally putting a ring on her

Like The Ocean Finds The Shore (NSFW 18+)

Authors Note: 18+ ONLY. if you’re a minor please find another blog, this writings and scripts are not written for your audience. thank you bb!

You didn’t know what made it worse. The tears in your eyes? Or maybe it was the pouring rain in the pitch black night; never the less, you were barely able to make out where you were, much less which direction you were going. The muscles in your body screamed for relief, the gashes angrily stinging against the rain, pushing you to run far, far away from the house that became your personal Hell.

Anywhere was better than being with him.

Your legs burned as you pushed yourself down the hill, gaining as much distance as you could away from Josuke. You couldn’t help to think of the events that led to this; gaining a stand from Keijo, meeting Koichi in odd circumstances, all the tiny little interactions that led to you accidentally tripping over a brick. Right into Josuke’s unmoving backside.

The thunder was incredibly deafening, lighting up the city of Morioh below you. You didn’t know if Josuke had discovered your absence yet, but you knew you had to be far away from him when he did. You knew it was just a matter of time.

Suddenly the grass became concrete, and concrete became asphalt. Relief flooded through you as you realized that you had finally made it into city limits. You looked around for any sign of safety you could take, your sights finally landing on the Grand Morioh Hotel.

‘Oh my god, Jotaro!’ You started sprinting towards the doors, bypassing any on looker or someone saying any comment to you, all you cared about was finding the receptionist and finding Jotaro. You ran down the hall to the Plaza, seeing the nice attendant lady who always seemed to be the one working for the desk. As soon as she saw you approach, her smile went from one of welcome to a grimace of worry. “Oh my word sweetie, are you okay?? Do you need any help??”

You leaned on the desk for a second to catch your breath. “Actually.. yes there is something.. you could do..”, you took a deep breath, “can you tell me what room Jotaro Kujo is in? We’re related & we have a family member in the hospital and it’s imperative that I fill him in on what’s going on.” Not the best lie you’ve ever told but at this point, you couldn’t afford to be precise. The desk attendant nodded with assured hums, “Yes honey of course, give me just one second.”

You breathed in relief. Thank God. Josuke definitely knew by now that you were gone, & would absolutely be searching for you. Finding Jotaro gave you a little hope for safety but even still; Josuke was relentless.

“Okay darlin, 8th floor, 6th suite, it’ll be the one at the very end!!” Relief swept over you as you quickly expressed your thanks, sprinting up the stairs towards your destination. ‘This is utterly insane’ you thought to yourself; you were running from your deranged boyfriend to his nephew that’s a decade older than he is. Your clothes were torn, wet, your skin was bruised and bleeding out, a state of being you weren’t familiar with.

The raw emotion you felt as you reach Jotaro’s door can only be described as a broken hallelujah. You banged on his door as hard as you can, not stopping until Jotaros towering frame swung the door open.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” His stone cold expression seemed to always be unwavering, but at the sight of you his eyes betrayed him. “What the hell happened to you?” You tried to speak, but no words came out, simply emotion ridden gasps between sobs. Jotaro took your arm and led you in, showing you to a seat by the fireplace & brought you a hot mug of coffee. You gave him a grateful look as you took the cup, Jotaro taking the seat in front of you with a first aid kit. “What happened to you?? Is this from an enemy stand user?”

You couldn’t help but give a lifeless giggle. Certainly felt like it, didn’t it?

Jotaro let you sit in silence for a second while he cleaned the wounds gracing your arms & face, carefully watching your facial expression for any sign of emotion, anything to hint at what might be going on. You didn’t even know where to start in explaining it, or even a way to explain how this happened.

Jotaro took your chin in his hand and turned your face towards his. “(Y/N), who did this to you?” The concern in his eyes made you feel the most cared about you’ve been in months. If you could tell anyone, it’d be Jotaro.. right?”

“It.. it’s Josuke.. When we started dating he was so good to me, he was charming & caring, he’d take time out of his day to spend time with me & would make sure i felt his love; but his actions just.. escalated. He was everywhere. He would text me throughout the day about what i was doing, saying certain comments about my outfits or what stores i was in, he ALWAYS knew.” Jotaro listened intently as he wrapped your forearm in gauze, giving you a nod it was okay to keep proceeding with what you were saying. “All of a sudden one day my land lord calls me to let me know that I was being evicted out of nowhere and i had 24 hours to leave. The same day, Josuke signed the deed to his Mom’s house & told me I could live with him. I just thought it was a crazy coincidence, I didn’t think Josuke would actually ever get me evicted. Then i found my land lords phone number in his pocket book. When I asked him about it he pretended like he didn’t know, and when i kept asking he..” The memory of him holding you against the wall, his knee putting pressure onto your slit, made you visibly cringe. The way he touched you.. it was so possessive, so needy, his eyes portraying one visible message. ‘I own you.’

Jotaro closed the first aid kit & put it under the seat he was at, a pack of pills in his hand. Jotaro silently put the two pills in your hand & got you a glass of water. “I’m sorry you’re going through this & I’m sorry you’ve been hurt so badly. The pills are a sleeping pill & a pain relief supplement, take those and you can sleep in my bed. I’ll handle everything in the morning.” You looked at the two white pills in your hand & threw them to the back of your throat, quickly chasing them with the glass of water he gave you. Jotaro gave you a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt, and helped you lay in the bed. “Goodnight, (Y/N). I’ll see you in the morning.”

You don’t remember anything past that.

__________________________________

When you woke in the morning, you were blinded by direct sunlight. You squinted your eyes as tight as you could, noticing that you were being held up my two arms that were walking at a brisk pace. Gently adjusting your eyes to open, you looked up to see Jotaro, a determined glare in his eyes.

“J..Jotaro where are we?” you whispered the best you could manage. Jotaro gave you a glance down before returning his eyes to the path.

“I called Josuke.”, Your heart drops into your stomach. He wouldn’t.. he couldn’t.. “He says you lost your apartment because your anti psychotics put you out of a job, & he had your landlords number to pay your moving out fees for you.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “No, no no no Jotaro that’s a lie, i’m not on anti-psychotics, I don’t have any sort of med like that, he’s fucking lying to you!!”

Jotaro gave you an expectant look. “That’s the other thing Josuke said. You’ve been flushing them down the drain instead of taking them like you’re supposed to. Josuke only wants to take care of you, (Y/N). There’s nothing to fear of him.”

“JOTARO, I HAVE NEVER TAKEN THOSE PILLS IN MY LIFE AND YOU FUCKING KNOW”- You saw a giant purple hand come over your face and cover your mouth, restraining you from saying anymore. “I’m sorry (Y/N), but this is what’s best for you.”

You heard a door in the distance open, and Jotaro looking up and locking eyes with someone. The voice you heard next made your spine freeze, and dread pierce your soul.

“Jotaro!! Thank you SO much for bringing (Y/N) back!!”

No.. Not again..

“Not a problem Josuke, i’d rather have assurance of (Y/N)‘s safety myself then just send her back here on a bus.”

You slowly looked over, finally catching sight of your boyfriend. His tall, muscular form loomed dangerously in the door way of his house, his pompadour reminding you of so many events, so many violations of your body..

God its sick that it was making you wet.

Jotaro set you on your feet in front of josuke, letting Star Platinums hand uncover your mouth.

You couldn’t look at him.

Josukes hand ran through your hair, “(Y/N) is all okay now that she’s here with me.” He put his other hand under your chin, lifting to meet you eye to eye. It was everything you remembered. Lust, anger, relief, and above all else: obsession.

Jotaro and Josuke bid their farewells. Hands on your hips steered you into the living room, Josuke gently closing the door behind you. You could feel his eyes bore into the back of your skull, your mind erratic with anxiety. God, what’s he gonna do??

“Y’know, you didnt have to run away. You didn’t have to leave me. You didn’t have to be SO FUCKING UNGRATEFUL.” Josuke threw a chair at the wall in front of you, the force of it making you fall backwards onto your back. You gasped as your back collided with the floor, seeing Josukes towering frame turning towards you. He kneels down straddling you, the obsession of his eyes terrifying as he wrapped his long fingers around your throat. Adrenaline went straight between your legs.

“I do everything for you, (Y/N). I house you. I feed you. I FUCKING TAKE CARE OF YOU.” Josuke ripped apart your shirt, shoving his knee on your hot slit, making you gasp in surprise. Josukes delicate features possess a hunger that you remember all too well. “I also make you feel good don’t i??” He removed one of his hands from your throat to attack your nipple with, making you arch your back & moan. Josuke bit his lip in ecstasy as he shoved his middle finger down your slit, swirling it around in your hot heat. Josukes mouth rested against your temple as you gasped in pleasure, sickly wanting him to just take you then & there.

Josuke slowed down his finger, gently massaging your clit at a comfortable pace. “I’m sorry if it was because you felt unloved. If that’s the case, I really promise to be better. Because you can’t leave me, (Y/N). You’re mine, my little princess, my sweet baby girl,” His fingers started to assault you again. You heard a zipper get tugged town, and Josukes hips sweetly grind against yours. “My little fucking slut.”

You started to panic as you felt the tip of his rock hard cock press against your heat, your adrenaline skyrocketing. He’s delirious. “JoJo honey please, d-dont make me do this i’m so fucking sc-“

Josukes hand slapped your cheek, making you yelp in pain, quickly resulting in your moth being covered once again. “No, you don’t get a say. You were a bad girl, baby. And bad girls-“

Your scream was strained as he bottomed out his 8 inch cock inside you. “-they get punished.”

Josuke rammed inside of you, yourself being pummeled into the floor as he chanted “Mine, mine, mine, -FUCK-, MINE!!” His dick assaults your G-Spot as you felt an orgasm start to build in your stomach.

“Are you gonna cum baby? Does my little fuckinf slut want to cum??” Josuke slapped your clit. “TELL ME WHO OWNS YOU.”

Pleasure overruled the mine on this one. “It’s you baby! It’s always been you and it always will, I promise I’ll never leave you again just-“ you squealed as you felt your build up about to break. “PLEASE LET ME CUM JOSUKE PLEASE!!”

“Uggh FUCK, cum on my fucking cock (Y/N) show me who OWNS you.” Josukes duet of lust and rage amplified as you exploded all over him, your moans and screams sounding like siren calls to himself. Josuke rutted into you, filling you to the brim with himself. He laid himself by you, wrapping his arms around your overstimulated frame. You laid there for a couple of minutes trying to catch your breath, your heart rate soaring. You could hear Josukes soft giggles beside you as you felt a hand caress your cheek. You looked him into his eyes, seeing the unconditional love and obsession. The never ending love and obsession.

Josuke sweetly kisses your cheek, holding you in his arms as he gently picks up your left hand. You felt a cold circle of metal grace your ring finger, slipping on perfectly. Fear gripped your heart as you realized what it was.

“My pretty baby.. my gorgeous doll,” Josuke rolled ontop of you and held your face in his hands. “This will make sure we’re always together. You & me, husband and wife!! My perfect, beautiful, fuckable wife..”

Tears started to slide down your face.

So, this was defeat.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you be my wife?”

You looked at the alabaster ceiling. This wasn’t possible for you. This couldn’t be happening. But you knew it was.

“Yes.. Josuke. I’ll marry you.”

Josuke gleamed as he smothered you with kisses and sweet nothings, giving you gentle touches as his lips grazed over your ears to say the only thing that comes out of his mouth: poison.

“I’ll always find you, baby doll.”

“Like the ocean meets the shore- I will always find you.”

——————————-

I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT & KEEP REQUESTING ALL YALL WANT!! TYSM!! 🤍🌿✨🌸👄🍌🌩

[shotofire]

A Life Saver

•LEVI ACKERMAN x READER

•Overview: Levi saves you, someone he barely knew, from certain death

•Warnings: mentions of death, gore description, cursing, near death experience, bit of angst, very brief mention of sex

•Season: season one range with a few altercations

-

At first, you didn’t want to become a scout. The thought of putting your life on the line wasn’t appealing, and it really just scared the hell out of you. Serving in the military police was a path you chose to go down. It was what you wanted for awhile then things started to not feel right.

The scouts were putting other lives before their own and you began to admire their bravery. Even when things looked like there was no light on the other side they pushed through. They proved that even mass death can result in a small victory that gave the people hope, something to help the nation push forward.

After serving in the military police for many years you decided it was time to step down. You wanted to become a scout, you wanted to help make a change. Your comrades thought you were absolutely insane, and they begged you to not make the choice. You refused, and soon you joined the scouts.

Mission after mission you survived and killed titans. You lost friends way too often, and the hurt and loneliness that came with the job would make anyone break. You’d been broken from the inside out in ways you’d never imagined. At the end of the day, you knew it was for the greater good.

The hope for a change only became greater when a boy showed up with the abilities of a titan. You knew to have such strength on your side was promising, and you saw light at the end of the extremely dark tunnel.

You’d served many long heart wrenching years by the time hope like that had shown up, and it only pushed you to keep going. You longed to live in a world without titans. All you wanted was to run free in field and see new things.

Today was a normal day, but that’s how any bad day starts. You’d woke up early to watch the sunrise with your close, and pretty much last friend, Molly. She was the best person you’d ever met and had been by your side for years. You had never admired anyone more than her.

“You know that titan kid is only fifteen, isn’t that insane?” She says before taking a sip of the coffee you had made her.

Your eyebrows raise at her words, “Wait really?”

The women laughs a bit at your shocked reaction then nods her head. She sets her coffee on the blanket you two are sitting on then leans back onto her hands, staring up at the sky that swirls with colors of orange and pink.

“To have this kind of hope is the best feeling i’ve had in years,” she says, “this is going to unlock so many closed doors we don’t know about. I think that finally we’re going to get some answers about how the hell the world turned into this mess.”

The smile on her face was full of such joy. She truly was excited for the future, you’d never seen someone actually look forward to what is lying ahead. A few days ago everyone thought titans would rein for hundreds of more years. Then all of the sudden that perspective has changed and no one knows what is going to come next.

“Yeah, I hope the future is bright,” you whispered.

You lay down to stare up at the sky, and Molly follows your movements. The two of you lay there in silence, thinking of a peaceful world where so much fear and death does not exist. You turn your head to look at your bestfriend to find her eyes are already on you.

“Our futures are bright, (y/n),” she says with a smile, “We’re going to live in cute little houses by the ocean!”

You can’t help but smile and roll your eyes at her. She always brought up this big body of water she’d read about in an illegal book when she was a teenager. The women could go on an on about it, as if she’d seen it before herself.

“If the ocean is even real,” you say with a smirk.

She scoffs at you before rolling her eyes harder than you just had, “Of course it’s real!”

You two spend the next hour talking about what you’d do or who you’d be doing if life were different. Molly wished for a family, to fall in love. She’d talked about it many times before but she refused to bring children into a world like this. You felt similar, expect children weren’t really on your radar. You longed to fall in love and grow old with someone.

But everyday brought death and destruction. You didn’t want to fall madly in love and then watch your whole world crumble as a titan took them away from you. The pain you had from your friends screaming your name as monsters had them in their grip was already too much to bare.

Heavy footsteps came in your direction at high speed, and soon you could hear heavy breathing along with it. You and Molly sat up quickly and saw one of your comrades running at you with pure fear in their eyes.

“Wall rose has been compromised!” They scream, voice laced with panic.

Molly’s eyes widen right as yours do. The feeling of uncertainty course through your veins almost instantly. You’ll never get used to the way your stomach drops when you hear things like that. Who could ever get used to that? Knowing you’re about to watch more people die would make anyone feel this way.

Before you know it you’re running to get your uniform on and strap on your gear. No one saw this coming. Then again, how the hell would they see this coming? You scramble to find you gear and you panic as it’s no where to be found.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You yell as the panic begins to set in.

Hands grab each of your shoulders to hold you still, and that’s when you see Molly’s worried eyes. She looks at you with concern. The last mission had both of you on edge more than ever before. Both of you lost someone dear, someone who was close to you as you were to each other. Knowing that today you could lose Molly was making your mind and body think like a mad man.

“You gear is with my stuff, remember? You didn’t want to lose it so you asked me to hold onto it,” she reminds you.

The sweet women pulls you into a tight hug, and you can feel her body trembling. The two of you had no time for this, people were probably already being slaughtered. Right as you begin to think this a scream rips through the air, one that makes you two grip one another tighter.

“We’re going to fight and we’re going to survive,” she says sternly, “do you hear me? Don’t you dare die on me (y/n).”

You nod into her chest as tears begin to form in your eyes. So much could change in an instant and you wished time could freeze so you could hug your bestfriend forever. But reality was sinking in and you knew you had titans to kill and lives to save.

The hug was short lived, and soon you were faced with the destruction held within wall rose. Titans stomped around mindlessly, some with those creepy smiles that you absolutely hated.

Your blades cut through nape after nape and your head was starting to spin. Somewhere along the way you lost Molly, which had never happened before. You hated not having her around. The constant fear of not knowing what position she could possibly be in made you sick to your stomach.

You flew through the air at a high speed, trying to get leverage on the abnormal that was chasing after you. It’s mouth hung open as it’s disgusting blood drenched touched dripped into the buildings below. You’d never faced an abnormal and didn’t expect it to dodge your attack minutes ago.

Sure you were extremely skilled but it’s hard to work your way around a fast moving titan. It’s arms flew in the air behind it, the beast was an odd sight. You’d never witnessed a titan act so strangely before.

You’d been observing the monster too closely, but only for a few seconds. But as any soldier knows, a few moments can cost you your entire life. You turned your attention back infront of you but you didn’t have time to react before you slammed into a chimney. Out of all things that could’ve contributed to your death it just had to be a damn chimney.

The impact made your vision blur and you couldn’t even really feel the pain. The sun beamed down on you as your body layed limp on the rooftop. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue, and you wished you could fly up there with the birds and be free.

The abnormals hand picked you off the home as if you were nothing, only a small ant compared to it. It’s eyes were completely lifeless as it stared at you with hunger.

“Don’t you dare die on me (y/n)!”

Molly’s words rang through your mind but you couldn’t move. The injury to your head made you feel as if you were in a dream. There was no sense of reality right now, you couldn’t even comprehend that you were about to reach your end.

In a way you knew, reality wasn’t too far off. But you couldn’t find the energy to fight back. It had all been drained from you as the battle continued, and the final blow left you motionless.

You closed your eyes hoping somehow that’d stop you from feeling the coming pain. Every part of you didn’t want to die. Molly’s dreams about living by the ocean had become yours as well even if you wouldn’t admit it. The thought of leaving her with no body brought tears to your eyes.

That’s when you tried to move with the little energy left in your body, but it was no use. The tears began to stream down your face and the fear began to set in. Fear like this had never been within you, it was a brand new feeling. You guess certain death does that to you.

“No!” You say as loud as you can, “Someone please help me!”

Knowing this is what so many of the people you loved had to experience broke your heart. It was already bad enough to know they were gone and you couldn’t have saved them. But this was so much worse, they died with such fear. Fear that almost paralyzed you.

The sound of blades ripping through skin filled your ears. The titans grip on you loosened, then let go completely. You felt yourself falling, but you kept your eyes closed. Fear had already made its way to every inch of your body and you couldn’t move even more than before.

Right before you slammed to the ground below strong arms caught you. A grunt slipped past the unknown persons lips at the impact of your body. They carried you into a near by tavern that was deserted of people, then set you on one of the tables.

“Hey,” the deep voice said, “c’mon now I know you aren’t dead, don’t go out like this.”

Your eyes fluttered open to see the dangerously handsome man in your face. He was awfully close, you could feel his breath on your nose. His eyes were wide with concern.

“Captain Levi?” You asked followed by a gut wrenching cough. Blood splattered onto your lips and you groaned.

He couldn’t have been the one who saved you, right? You’d only talked to Levi a handful of times, and all were him giving you orders. You’d never had a desire to talk to him even if you found him incredibly attractive.

You’d admired the man for years as well. He has lost as many people as you, maybe more. He had already been on the scouts for many years before you joined. The man had watched the passion you held as you killed titans at alarming speed. He knew exactly who you were and what you had to offer, that’s why he saved you.

He smiled softly at you, not even enough for you to notice. For a second he thought you wouldn’t wake up and he’d be carrying a lifeless body back to medical. You cough a bit more before sitting up. A gasp slips past your lips and pain shoots through your body.

“Holy shit that fucking hurts,” you curse.

You see the fresh blood on your hands and wonder if it’s yours. The pounding in your head only increases as you move. The room felt like it was spinning and you may vomit any second.

“Do I need to take you to medical?” He asks with concern in his voice.

Your vision looks at the raven haired man and your memory starts to come back. One second you were flying through the air and then stupidly slammed into a chimney. And that damned titan was about to feast on you, what a bitch. Then you realized Levi was the one who stopped you from your near death.

“Why did you save me?” You ask without answering him first.

He sighs at your question. He had only moved that fast to save someone a handful of times. It just felt right to save you. He was there, you were there, he couldn’t just let you die. It wasn’t too far out of reach, he had already been headed in your direction.

“Because you’re strong and the scouts need you,” he answers, “now tell me if I need to take you to medical.”

His features were stern and it made your stomach flip a bit. If there weren’t titans outside and pain wasn’t consuming your body you may have thrown out a stupid flirtatious remark due to your bubbly personality. But this wasn’t the time and place no matter how good the captain looked right now.

“I just need a minute,” you said softly as you pushed your weight off the table.

You hissed in pain before stretching your body. The bones in your body crack loudly and you let out a low grunt at the feeling. The pounding in your head began to simmer and you took deep breaths.

“Thank you captain Levi,” you said, “my friend would’ve personally brought me back to just kill me herself.”

He chuckled a bit at your remark and you couldn’t even recall captain Levi smiling let alone chuckling. This whole situation was weird and unrealistic to you. Maybe you were already dead and this was your afterlife. A hot guy saves you and later you two will go to bone town, sounds pretty fun.

“I literally ran into a chimney,” you grumbled.

Levi’s eyes squinted at your words in confusion, “You what?”

“I didn’t get caught by a titan while trying to kill it heroically. I wasn’t paying attention for like three seconds and slammed into a damn chimney, not too sure the scouts really need me,” you say.

He shakes his head at your words and was becoming annoyed by your self doubt.

“I know, I saw,” he says and your cheek almost immediately turn red, “and I still saved you cause I thought you were worth it.”

You couldn’t get words out after what he said. You only stared at him in shock. He saw you make a foul out of yourself but yet still risked his life to save you. Levi truly was an interesting man.

“Well then, thank you again,” you say, “maybe I should thank you in a different way.” You wiggle your eyebrows then let out a laugh into your palm as his face falls at your words.

“Holy shit i’m kidding, please don’t make me do laps for that. Jokes make me feel better,” you still were holding back laughter at the face Levi made. You never thought you’d make the captain flustered like that.

“Uh,” his cheeks redden, “We need to get back out there. It’s starting to get worse, are you sure you’re okay (y/n).”

You take a deep breath before nodding your head. The two of you immediately begin to speed walk towards the open door of the tavern.

“I’m going to need you to follow me. The titans are huddled in the west and help is needed there,” he orders you and you respond with a yes captain, which always makes you cringe.

“Oh and by the way,” he says with a smirk, “that other way of thanking me is always welcome.”

This time he leaves you flustered. He heads west and you stand there for a few seconds before you remember you’re supposed to be following him. His remark might have you slamming into another chimney.

After fighting for hours many people had been successfully moved to wall sina. Some titans still mindlessly walked around within the walls of rose, but atleast many people were saved. There was still a great heartfelt loss that day.

When you got back to base your heart was pounding in your ears. All you could think about was Molly and if she was okay. You hadn’t seen her since you two got separated during the hell bent events. Your eyes scanned frantically through the base, searching for her everywhere.

Your mind went to the worst place possible and you begin to panic. She had to be okay, she was all you had. You needed her more than anyone else. If she’s gone you might as well let a titan eat you during your next mission. Molly kept you alive, and kept you fighting.

“(y/n)?” You hear a familiar deep voice ask.

You spin on your heals and are met with the same deep brown eyes that saved you earlier today. Levi looked upset, face a bit fallen. That’s when your heart sank to your stomach. Did he know where Molly was? Or if she had even made it back?

“Follow me,” he says without any other detail.

He starts walking and you immediately follow as your heart races. At this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. Your eyes scan to a sign that says medical as Levi opens the door below it.

You’re led to a the back of the room and you gasp at the sight. On the bed layed Molly with bandages covering many parts of her body. Your eyes fill with tears at the safe shes in, this was too much.

“She’s going to be okay, and the nurse told me she should be up soon,” he says.

You nod your head at his words before reaching to hold Molly’s hand, it was cold as ice.

“Can you please get her a blanket,” you state, it wasn’t even a question. It was more like you weren’t letting go of her hand, more like you couldn’t.

Levi nods and fetches her a couple blankets. He covers her for you and you thank him. The tears still run down your face, but you had already stopped wiping them away. It was no use because they just kept coming harder and harder as you looked at your bestfriend.

“Thank you Levi, I would’ve gone crazy looking for her back there,” you smile through the hurt.

He only hums in response to your words, letting silence fill the air. His hand comes to rest on your shoulder and his fingers move slightly to give you some comfort. It truly was a nice feeling to have someone with you right now, you might think too hard if he wasn’t here.

“I’ll give you some space-“ “no,” You cut him off, “please don’t go.”

Levi sees the hurt in your eyes. He could tell you needed someone right now even if he wasn’t much of a comforting person.

“okay,” he whispers.

He then pulls up a chair next to yours and sits with you for the next few hours in silence. It was somewhat nice, for both of you. Molly begins to stir in her sleep and your perk up. Her eyes flutter open and the first thing she sees is you and she smiles.

“We’ll look at that,” she smiles, “you’re just obsessed with me aren’t you (y/n).”

You laugh through happy tears forming in your eyes. She takes a deep breath and tries to stretch her body but the pain to still too much. She feels your grip on her hand and she squeezes at yours.

“You didn’t think i’d go out that easily did you,” she asks with a smirk on her chapped lips.

“Not for a second,” you said back almost immediately.

She lets out a small laugh at your words. For a second she did think she was going to die as a titan smacked her body mid-air, but that’s all she can remember. It was that, and then she wakes up in medical confused as hell. But seeing you made her know she definitely was okay. Her eyes scan to the figure next to you to see captain Levi. You’d told her before that you’d totally jump his bones if he let you.

“Did you screw the captain while I was out?” she asks playfully.

You and Levi’s breath hitch at her words and she can’t help but let out a laugh. It hurt her chest to laugh that hard but it also in a way made her feel better.

“Really Molly? You were just half dead a few minutes ago and that’s what you wanted to say?” You couldn’t help but laugh along with her. You’d rather her make you and the captain flustered than her be dead.

Levi couldn’t help but smile widely, but he put his head down to hide it. That day you and Levi developed a liking for each other, and both of you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this way.

The lives you each led was going to make it hard, but feelings are strong.

After an hour or so of talking to Molly she fell back asleep for some well needed rest. Levi walked with you down the hall back to your room, making small talk that was hard to even keep going.

“Thank you again Levi,” you look at him with sparkling eyes, “I’m pretty sure anyone else besides Molly would’ve let me be titan desert.”

“Of course, I would never let you be titan desert,” he mumbles the last part. He’d never heard someone refer to themselves as titan desert before, it almost made him laugh.

You stop at your door and look at his with an adoring gaze. He truly was nice looking, and incredibly brave. You wanted to be just like him, you wanted to be even stronger than him one day.

Before you could think you were leaning in to kiss his cheek. His eyes widen and his face heats up. The action rendered him speechess and he watched as your reached for the handle and opened the door before slipping in your room without another word.

He stayed in the hallway for a few seconds staring at where you just stood.

“Shit,” he whispered.

That only sparked his feelings for you further, and he knew this was the beginning of something he’d been avoiding his whole life.

Love.

[thatharringrovehoe]

So I've been playing Dishonored which is my favorite game and this popped into my head so now you all have to suffer with me. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

He's so fucking cold. Like he’s been plunged into a lake mid winter and can’t find his way to the surface. Hands shaking, Billy sifts clumsily through the box of his mother’s things he keeps hidden in the back of his closet. He's found that if he thinks about the good times, picnics at the beach under the California sun, the thing oozing it's way though his brain losses just a bit of it's grip. Leaves Billy with enough motor function to stumble around his bedroom, trying to find the right pieces. And fucking hell it’s been so long since he's done this. He can remember helping his Ma when he was little, chubby fingers clenched tight in her cotton sundress as she arranged the items on the table just right. Pricked her finger to draw sigils in a language long forgotten, her voice a soft cadence through the bedroom as she hummed Billy’s favorite lullaby. No words, just a beautiful mournful thing. Humming a song of grieving loss. Billy doesn't know why he likes it so much.

“Remember baby. When you offer your gifts they have to be special. Well loved. Something that brings you joy every time you use it.”

His mother kept a pair of earrings on the cloth covered table. She never wore them when his father was home. Took them out and put them back on the little rickety stand in the back of her closet every day before he came back from work. Dangling silver daggers with the onyx beads. Billy shoved one straight through his left earlobe when he turned fifteen and has barely taken it out since.

His Ma told him that everything he built his shrine with had to mean something. Had to be something he treasured. From the fabric to the stand itself. So Billy tried his best. Draped his best leather jacket over the milk crate that held all of his favorite hair products. Placed his Ma's Fleetwood Mac album next to one of his mother's silver earrings (the one he always wears), arranged as neatly as he can manage. He’d had to prick his thumb seven times because to his dawning horror it kept healing over. Just another tally mark towards something being really fucking wrong. And he remembers the warehouse. Can still feel the slimy caustic sludge being pumped down his throat by a fucking tentacle. But he’d hoped it had been a dream, a nightmare from reading to many Lovecraft novels. Billy curses as he slices open his thumb for what feels like the millionth time.

Apparently not.

He's drawn the characters just how he remembers. His mother had made him practice every day, showing him each and every shape and line, drawn in colorful crayon. She gave him a cookie every time he got them right. Never hung them up on the fridge though. Didn't want his father to see.

He can feel the shadow creeping through his blood, dragging it’s claws against his veins. It might not know exactly what he’s doing yet, but it must be able to feel the intention. Billy thinks of ocean waves and a soft hand running through his curls. Fights the pull at the back of his mind to just give in. To sleep. His hands shake harder.

Fuck, where is it?! Billy combs through records and trinkets, a bottle of her perfume. He’s desperately hoping it didn't get lost in the move because his mother never taught him how to make one. Hell, he's pretty certain that he wouldn't be able to find the pieces he needs in Hawkins anyway. Not like Melvalds has a supernatural voodoo isle.

Then finally, finally he finds it. Lifting up his mother’s satin scarf it comes tumbling out to land on the floor with a clatter. Bleached white and beaten smooth by the waves, it's about the size of a sand dollar. Billy picks it up, places it in the palm of his hand. He still remembers the day he found it out on the shore. Washed up between some sea glass, the leather bindings still somehow soft even soaked with salt water. Etched with symbols and shapes Billy will never understand. When Billy showed it to his mother an unreadable expression crossed her face. It was that evening she showed him her shrine.

The rune seems to hum against his skin, an otherworldly song from far away ghosting past his ears. The thing that’s trying to Shanghai Billy’s brain writhes. It's angry, but more than that it’s fucking terrified and Billy has never been more sure of anything in his life. This was a good idea. But his limbs are getting colder, heavier. Whatever this evil piece of shit is it doesn’t like what Billy’s doing. He has to fight against the deadening of his limbs, crawling towards his shitty attempt at a shrine from his place on the floor. His vision is starting to grow dark when he finally clutches on to the milk crate, placing the rune between the earring and his cassette tape. And he knows that there's no guarantee. That whatever his Ma prayed to every night never shielded her from Neil’s fists, didn’t do a damn thing as the cancer slowly drained her down to nothing. That sometimes (most times) when someone would call out to the void the only thing they heard in return was their own disappointment. But he's got no other options. This is his trump card. His last resort. If this hocus pocus bullshit doesn’t work then Billy is up shit creek without a paddle. With a frustrated shout against the nightmare pulling him in, Billy begs.

“Please! Fuck, help me! I'll do anything, c’mon just- please!”

The air in Billy’s bedroom all of a sudden seems to shudder. The shadows flicker and meld together, reaching outwards. The sound of dry fall leaves blowing in the wind, a wail of a thousand dying worlds ricochets off the walls. Then nothing. Billy scrunches his eyes shut against the sting of tears. Fuck, of course it didn’t work. Story of his life. He called for help and just like always it doesn't mean shit. No one is coming to save him.

“Well well well. Certainly been a long time since someone summoned me like that. Very old school.”

Billy’s eyes snap open, the surprise and adrenaline enough to fight the heaving weight of his limbs to raise his head. And there, perched on his shitty milk crate shrine, sits the most beautiful boy he's ever seen. He's got hair the color of soil after it rains. High cheekbones and full lips, milky white skin dotted with a constellation of beauty marks. Billy didn't know what he expected but it certainly wasn't this. The boy god is dressed in a swanky leather coat the color of charcoal with pants to match. Eyes like an oil spill, inky black and endless. With a good look at Billy, they narrow dangerously.

“I thought I fucking told you not to touch this world. You want a repeat of last time?”

Whatever deity he summoned looks pissed as hell. Did he not do it right? Maybe the items weren’t good enough. That would be just his luck. He's so confused he almost doesn’t notice it right away. The shadow slowly working it’s way through his body has stopped, retreated a little even.

“I-... I don't know what you’re talking about. Please, there's something wrong with me. Something got put inside of me and I need it out. Please, help me.”

Billy hasn’t begged since his Ma was takin her last breath in that damn hospice bed. Didn't see the point when it always got you nowhere. But now he can't make himself stop. Cuz he's never been this scared before. The things this monster inside him wants him to do. It's so strong, like he’s fighting a steam roller. He's got no hope on his own.

The boy sitting on his best leather jacket stills. Cocks his head to the side slightly, considering. Then those pretty pink lips are spreading out into a gleeful smirk. Slides off the shrine to settle on his knees in front of Billy. Reaches out his hand to cup Billy’s jaw gentle enough it makes him want to cry.

“You can't get a good enough hold of this one can you? Interesting. Tell me trouble maker, what's your name?”

That voice, deep and ethereal, seems to echo from all around him. He can feel it vibrate in his bones. He wants, no, needs to answer.

“Billy. Billy Hargrove.”

The boy smiles now, all gleaming pearly whites. If Billy looks long enough reality starts to flicker. And for just a second all he can see is teeth sharp like knives in a Cheshire grin. There for a moment and gone in a flash. The hand on his jaw tightens just the slightest fraction.

“Well Billy Hargrove. You seem to find yourself in quite the predicament. That parasite sucking on your soul is an old acquaintance of mine. He's one nasty little shit.”

If a brain washing shadow monster could feel indignant he’s pretty sure that’s what's happening now. Whatever was hijacking Billy's mind has curled up somewhere tight, sunk it’s teeth in deep. Cornered like a threatened animal.

“Please, I’ll do anything you want. I can’t… I can’t fight it. It's too much.”

There’s enough tears leakin down his face that it's soaking the front of his shirt. The boy is giving him this look, almost amused. The longer he holds Billy’s jaw the more the monster losses his grip, and Billy is ready to do anything at this point. Because that thing stuck to his brain wants him to find people. Feed it people. Wants Billy to drink all the chemicals in the supply shed at the pool. Told Billy that if he tried to fight it would take Max first and he can't let that happen.

The boy seems to come to a decision, grabs Billy’s hands to help him shakily to this feet. He doesn’t let go even when they’re both standing.

“You know there’s not many who can fight his hold for this long. I'm impressed.”

He steps forward until his chest is practically pressed up against Billy's. He smells like ozone and smoke, bottomless black eyes trained on stormy blue. Reaches up to tangle his fingers into Billy’s curls, sending tingles across his scalp. Smiles wider at the small noise that escapes Billy's throat.

“I'll help you Billy Hargrove. But in return, you have to do something for me.”

Billy's nodding before he can even really register what’s being said. Anything. He'd do whatever this pretty boy asked as long as he keeps touching Billy like this. Gentle, with a reverence no one has ever bothered to show.

“I need you to kick this little shit back into the hole he crawled out of. Can you do that for me Billy? I wanna see how your story pans out trouble maker. Wanna see what you do when someone gives you a chance.”

Billy nods again, breathless. The boy chuckles, the sound saccharine. Like warm honey dripping down his spine.

“Gunna have to use your words baby.”

Billy swallows, the click of his dry throat loud in the warm personal bubble they’ve created.

“Yes. Yeah. I’ll do it. Whatever you want pretty boy, please.”

It comes out a whisper but the boy hears it all the same. The boy smiles bright, pulls Billy forward. Soft warm lips press against his own and Billy is floating. He's never been kissed like this before. Slow and deep, the boy's tongue pressing in to curl and slide. Stuff him full. Billy's shaking for a whole other reason now. Reaches out to grip the boy's coat, cool to the touch where Billy is burning. Fire rushing through his veins, and he's already so close just from this. Whimpers brokenly into the kiss.

The boy pulls him in impossibly closer, slots his thigh between Billy’s legs, pushes up up up. And Billy is right fucking there, grinds down as he swaps spit with an old god in his shitty bedroom with the peeling yellow paint and the door that locks from the outside. Can feel the tell tale tingle spreading behind his navel.

“ ‘m gunna cum! Fuck, more please!” Billy mumbles curses into the kiss, breath hitching as his balls draw tight. The boy smiles against his mouth, yanks his curls back to bite into the meat of his neck and Billy’s gone, pulsing rope after rope of cum into his underwear.

“Oh my- .. Fuuuuuck. Yes! Uhhhnn!” He's panting like a dog as he slumps forward into the boys shoulder. Gentle fingers card through his hair as aftershocks zap up and down his body. A kiss is pressed behind his ear, a soft warmth flooding his core. He can't feel the shadow anywhere.

“So good for me sweet thing. Makes me want to keep you.”

It's said so quiet, like the boy doesn’t intend for it to be heard. Billy presses his face into his neck. There's no heartbeat under the boy's skin.

“You could. I want you to.” Whoever this is, whatever he is, he came for Billy. Answered his literal cry for help when no one else did. He doesn't know what he has to offer but he wants to give this impossible boy everything.

The boy in question hums. Brings Billy's left hand up to kiss the back of it. His skin feels hot under his lips, bordering on uncomfortable. Like stepping on sun scorched pavement. When the boy pulls back there’s a tattoo on his hand. A strange design that looks vaguely like a compass. It's the same mark as the one on the middle of the rune sitting behind them.

“I haven't given my mark to someone quite so special in a while. Try not to disappoint me Billy Hargrove.”

The boy goes to pull away but Billy still has his hand clenched tight on his coat. Panic wells up in his chest. Doesn't want to end whatever this is quite yet.

“Wait! What’s-…what's your name?” Which is a valid question he thinks. And probably one he should have asked at some point before he started grinding his dick on the guys leg. Oh well.

“I've had many names, none if which would hold any significance for you. Call me what you want trouble maker. I'll be there when you need me.”

Billy believes him. Then between one blink and the next the boy is gone, tendrils of dissipating smoke the only evidence he was ever there. A deep voice whispers from nowhere and everywhere.

“Ask your sister about the monsters in the woods.”

On the shrine the only thing that remains is the rune, both his gifts having apparently been accepted. Billy gives a hysterical bark of laughter at the thought of some higher being listening to Fleetwood Mac somewhere out in the void. It gives him an idea. He drags his lips across the fresh mark on his hand, mumbles into his skin.

“Thanks Stevie.”

[malfoys-demigod]

Turn Me or Leave Me 2/2

1/2

Summary: Elijah makes his choice to find and return you to him with the help of Marcel.

A/N: It was really nice to see that people wanted a second part. This one's shorter but I hope you still enjoy it!

Word Count: 1.8k

Tagging: @puddinmistahj-blog @moon-child-writer @wanniiieeee @agent-anna @mysticalfallsss

“All I wanted was a happy ending. A happy ending to what I have caused on our special day.” Elijah said, expressing his guilt on a sunny morning. A day after the evening of when he learned that you, the love of his life, had chosen to leave, and adding to the misery, asked that your memories were to be erased. Every last one memory he and you shared for the past five years.

Marcel and Klaus, being his only two anchors who felt responsible to hold the honorable and noble Mikaelson standing, stood behind the still-sad Elijah, listening to him sulk around the compound.

Marcel felt highly accountable for putting Elijah in greater pain, confiding in him the truth that came along with nothing but distress. He also felt sorry that he had to tell them something that made you unsure of telling Marcel in the first place, despite not telling them exactly where you were headed… yet.

The right hand of Klaus had sighed, looking at the ground, getting Elijah to turn around and look at him with focus.

“I’ll have you know Marcellus that I completely feel regret in myself for giving her the choice to leave. I shouldn’t have referred to her as a wall when it came to discussing important matters as that. I feel entirely in the wrong as she was right in making that point of no difference between now or five years for me to turn her. I vowed that I’d do anything to make her happy and I denied a simple request that I could have given in a heartbeat. I am clearly spiraling down a whole of great depression and fear, on the brink of turning my humanity off knowing that I cannot attempt to get her back. Is that what you wanted out of me?” he asked, irritated and drained.

Marcel looked at Klaus, who seemed to have shrugged, signaling that this was not his floor for him to say anything since he wasn’t the one to have gotten Elijah’s attention. He then looked back at Elijah, who was breathing heavily from what he had just told Marcel.

“I’m sorry, Elijah, you must have misunderstood me,” Marcel stated, “You see, I wanted to honor the moment Y/N and I had together that night in the airport. In order for her to tell me where she was going, I told her that there was no use in feeling hesitant to tell me since there was an assumption that you’d back off and respect her wishes of leaving, staying here instead. I shouldn’t have done that now that I’m hoping you’d sweep her off her feet again and get her back. Before you snap my neck or anything, just know that I’m on your side now, I want you to get her back.”

Elijah used his super-speed to quickly appear in front of Marcel, looking at him with serious eyes, “Then kindly tell me where she is. I’d like to get my wife back.”

Marcel patted Elijah in the back, smirking with delight, “With pleasure, but there’s someone you should know with her over there who’ll be brought back as well.”

Elijah’s face turned to stone, as his excitement was abruptly brought to a pause. “Who?” he asked with worry.

--

“I’m so glad we could end today’s shopping at this wonderful restaurant’s seating choice, Rebekah.” you thanked your newly made friend.

The two of you were currently at Duke’s La Jolla, a Hawaiian-inspired restaurant known for its beautiful outdoor seatings, overlooking the ocean views San Diego had to offer. This was near La Jolla Cove, a place Rebekah had planned on taking you to see after.

Right now, Duke’s was the place to gather energy and restore appetite after today’s massive shopping care of Rebekah at The Shops, an unparalleled experience for shopping at the city. She surprisingly took care of all the expenses, managing you to not stress about the endless rolling of receipts. She said it was another warm way of welcoming you to the city.

“Of course, dear, Y/N,” Rebekah waved off, “I’ve befriended the chef quite some time ago and got us the best seats for today. He’s remarkably a talented chef I might say as our meals are on the house.”

You gasped at the fact that meals were also taken cared of, “First the shopping, now the meals? This clearly has to be a dream, Rebekah, I’m serious, nobody could be that lucky in one day.”

“I can assure you that the chef of Duke’s has his ways of welcoming newcomers to his city and giving out free meals on your first visit is one of his many ways,” said an masculine voice, interrupting the conversation.

You looked up to see an elegant and sophisticated man, wearing a black luxurious suit, smiling at you with such captivation in his eyes. He removed one of his hands that had been hiding in his pocket, lending it out for you to shake.

“I’m Elijah, Rebekah’s brother,” the man introduced himself to you.

You took out your hand, shaking it with a small, enchanted smile on your face as you were charmed by his presence, “It’s nice to meet you, Elijah, I’m Y/N.”

Elijah felt nothing but pure attractiveness in how refreshing you looked compared to how he saw you last time. He was feeling nervous but wonderful to see you as you felt and appeared so different.

He examined how different you looked in terms of fashion. Rebekah transformed you into this fresh West Coast beach girl, successfully rocking the sundress and denim jacket as your hair was flowing down in a wavy manner. Your smile, it really showed that you were compelled. You had no thoughts of the troubling life you had in New Orleans, especially during the last time you interacted with Elijah. You seemed to have had no thought on the supernatural events happening, as there was nothing but sunshine on your mind.

Marcel seemed to have noticed that Elijah was about to start fawning over you for a much longer time than he had expected, which caused him to nudge Elijah in the shoulder, bringing him back to reality.

Elijah, animated back to reality, turned to Marcel, who was smiling warmly at you, “This is Marcel, a friend of mine.”

“He’s also my boyfriend actually,” Rebekah stated, smiling at you and Elijah. Marcel extended his hand and chuckled at you, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

You shook Marcel’s hand, gasping again at Rebekah, “Rebekah I didn’t even know about you having a brother, and now a boyfriend? You seem to be hiding lots of things from me,” you teased.

“Relax darling, I’ve only met you a few days ago, I can’t just talk you through my entire life,” Rebekah sarcastically replied, “No doubt that would take centuries,” she looked at Elijah with a smirk.

“Right, well I wouldn’t want to be rude anymore, Elijah, Marcel, would you like to join us? The view is to die for, and so is the food!” you proposed, inviting your two new friends to sit with you by the table.

Rebekah waved her hands at Elijah and Marcel who had begun nodding and gesturing to sit, “But would you look at the time? Y/N was meaning to be taken to La Jolla Cove and now seems to be the perfect time.”

You turned to Rebekah, narrowing your eyebrows in confusion. But before you had a say in it, Elijah took a step forward and pointed at his sister, “Yes well, perhaps you’ve forgotten that you and Marcel have matters to attend to by this hour, sister? Y/N shouldn’t be worried about cancelled plans on her end, I’d be delighted to take her for you, if that's alright with you, Y/N?” he asked, now looking at you.

You rapidly nodded in excitement, “Of course, I don’t see why not!”

Marcel clasped his hands together, rubbing it in successfully, “Well now that’s settled, I think it’s time to make a move now,” he offered, looking at the group with a big grin on his face. Rebekah pursed her lips in irritation, “Right, just fantastic…” she murmured, standing up and making her way beside Marcel.

Elijah took his hand out gracefully, which you took in response, standing up beside him with an elated smile on your face. “Well, thank you for lunch today, Rebekah, and of course shopping. I’ll see you at home later?”

“With good things to look forward to I hope,” Rebekah strangely replied, which somehow Elijah and Marcel knew what she meant, leaving Marcel and Rebekah to part ways after that, resulting in you and Elijah left alone again.

He looked at you with mesmerism for a quick second and then gestured his hand to the exit, “Shall we?”

--

Plans with the person taking you to La Jolla Cove may have been changed but something about Elijah taking you instead didn’t really bother you. He was nothing but a pleasure to be with at the moment. After multiple times of offering that you drive, you finally gave up when Elijah strongly insisted that he���d take the wheel and drive the two of you to your destination.

For some reason, the drive to the cove had been surprisingly quiet in a good way. Glances at each other were exchanged every so often, smiling at each other as if you two were an old and sweet married couple enjoying each other’s moments together.

While you were thinking about how kind and handsome your friend’s brother was, Elijah was feeling nothing but a breeze of happiness in his heart, seeing you smile as if nothing in the world was bothering you at the moment. He was a little sad that you weren’t aware anymore of the feud between you two, but he wanted to cherish this happy and silent moment the two of you were sharing, knowing it would come to an end later on as he intended of bringing your memories back.

Once you arrived at the cove, you quickly stepped out and breathed the fresh and sunny air in the small, picturesque cove and beach that was surrounded by cliffs. “Wow, I can see why this place is deeply loved by both tourists and locals.” you admitted, gazing at the waves and breathtaking sky.

You turned around, looking at Elijah, who seemed to have already made his way beside you, putting his hands back on his pocket. You noticed how elegantly perfect he looked in his suit, but it didn’t really suit the setting. “Can I be honest with you, Elijah?” you asked, getting his attention.

He gave a small smile and nod, gesturing for you to continue, “Of course.”

“No offense because I really like your whole get up and all but wearing a nice suit… on a beach?” you joked, laughing at what you said.

Elijah looked down at his whole look, grinning at your observation and started unbuttoning his jacket, “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I do hope though that folding up my shirt and trousers would suffice at the moment.”

“We could head back to the mall and get you some beach clothes if you want,” you offered, turning around to the car.

Elijah shook his head, and stopped you by grabbing your forearm, “That won’t be necessary, Y/N, I wouldn’t want you to miss out on spending more time in this lovely place.”

You nodded, showing a gesture of appreciation and looked back at the view of the beach, “It’s beautiful isn’t it? I’ve never seen such magnificent views like this. You see, I’m originally from New Orleans and I just moved here to the West Coast and I haven’t really had much exposure to things like this.”

Elijah, finished folding his shirt and trousers, looked at you with care, “Do you like it here so far?”

You nodded, showing eyes of hopes and dreams awaiting to be accomplished, “You bet. I don’t really see myself going back to New Orleans. I can’t explain how I’m feeling exactly but this place makes me feel free and at ease. Like nothing’s stopping me to live a carefree and happy life.”

Elijah displayed somewhat of a small smile, which to him was because he was relieved and happy that you were happy. The smile was small because he also felt unhappy that he was not able to provide you this happiness.

“What about you, Elijah?”

“Hm?” Elijah hummed in confusion.

“Are you living a carefree and happy life as well?” you prompted, asking innocently. “Perhaps there’s a special person in your life that’s giving you the additional happiness in your life?” There was something in your gut that wanted you to ask this, wanting to know if he had a significant other in his life.

Elijah chuckled to himself in a depressing way, looking down at the ground. “It’s quite a long story.”

“Ah,” you opened your mouth, happy that you understood what he was trying to say, “But do you love her?”

There seemed to be a quick and honest nod from Elijah, who seemed to be looking directly at the horizon, as if he was vividly thinking about his girl. “Words cannot express how much I love her.”

“So what happened?” you genuinely asked.

“One single yet vast mistake I made on my end. It ruined everything that we had together and I will never forget how much I regretted everything that led to her completely starting a new life without me. It broke my heart but I deserved that. She doesn’t deserve to have her heart broken because I wasn’t thinking things correctly.” he utterly confessed with grief.

You touched his shoulder out of pity, causing him to look at you with soft eyes, “Fight for her, Elijah. She has to be around here somewhere, hasn’t she? It isn’t too late to see if you have a chance to get her back and I know you will. I can help find her!” you supportingly said, trying to get his hopes up.

But it somehow failed. He sighed, shaking his head at you. His hand slowly touched yours, the one that held his shoulder. “Looking around for her won’t be necessary,” he replied, confusing you, “Because you’ve been standing alongside me today.”

You narrowed your eyes, wondering what he meant as this sounded strange to you. “I-I don’t follow, Elijah.”

Elijah placed both his hands on your shoulders firmly, looking you straight in the eye as he started compelling you.

“What we have just briefly discussed between us is considered a highlight of what I’m about to bring back to you,” he first said, “Recently, Marcel Gerard had compelled you to forget everything that happened to you in the last five years upon your request. The reason for this was because I denied you of becoming a vampire after being asked by you on our five year anniversary. With this, we had a massive quarrel, leaving you to have your memories erased and decide to start a new life here, away from New Orleans. Eventually you met again, Rebekah, but that doesn’t matter as much as what I’m about to say. I, Elijah Mikaelson, your husband, have travelled to see you, ending this compulsion to give you free will upon hearing what has been said.”

A few mere seconds had passed after Elijah’s compulsions and there you were, standing, and staring at someone who grew fondly familiar to you, bringing about tears slowly falling on your face as emotions were just attacking your body, hitting you right in the face with such clarity and impact.

Elijah only saw a tearful wife of his, narrowing her eyes with emotion as she didn’t know how to feel at the moment. He wanted to hug her and tell her everything was fine but he wanted her to make the first move, giving her the choice on how she wanted to react.

“E-Elijah,” your voice broke, causing you to just wrap your arms around his neck, breaking out to sob quietly. Elijah frowned in pity, hugging you back with such grip on his arms, wanting to not let you go. He gently rubbed your back, whispering sweet words and telling you to let it all out.

“My darling,” he whispered, “Just let it all out, it will be alright.”

Still embracing him, you shook your head, which he felt you do, “No,” you denied, “I’m so sorry, Elijah.”

This caused the heartwarming hug to stop from the two of you, as you simultaneously pulled out from each other. Elijah looked at you with slight confusion, after hearing you apologize. “Elijah,” you continued, “It was really wrong of me to lash out on you that night. I completely destroyed our anniversary night all because of one thing I kept going on about. Then I didn’t even let you know what choice I chose, leaving you to find out in a way you couldn’t imagine. I’m very, truly, sorry.”

Elijah gloomed, lowering his face with guilt, “No, Y/N,” he started with a low, sad voice, “It is I who is in the wrong, not you. You will never be in the wrong. What you asked for was something to do with what special thing we have. Of course it is my dream to live an eternal life with you, and when the situation appeared in front of me, I foolishly ignored it and words cannot express how wrong that was of me to do. I was a fool for doing so, for letting you go, and making you unhappy. It went to show how vapid I was as a husband and the guilt of that lives in me. It was I who destroyed our special day together, not you, but I. When you left without telling me, I deserved that as it gave me the time to reflect on how much of a mindless person I was that night. Knowing that you went here to start a life without me broke me. I never wanted to imagine what it was like to not have you in my life anymore and that fear arrived the moment we fought and I was trembling with such immense fear, knowing that life would crumble down without you by my side. I want you to know Y/N, that you are the love of my life always and forever. I am deeply apologetic for what I have done and I want you to know that I will do everything in my power to make things right, to make us right again, because all I want in my life is to make you happy and if you will, I would like to live an eternal life with you, for you are the light of my life.”

It didn’t take another second for you to think about it. Despite going through a lot on both your ends, he was still the love of your life. If there was one thing the Mikaelsons taught you, it was that no matter what happens, family will always come down as the number one thing in life, always and forever.

You nodded, starting to grow a smile on your face, followed along with giggles, which caused Elijah to tense down and return the smile, “Yes, Elijah,” you replied, “I will always love you with all my heart. You are after all, my husband, my lover, my favorite person in the entire world and I would never want things to end between us for you too are the light of my life.”

With that, Elijah cupped your face and connected his lips with yours, planting a passionate and heartwarming kiss to end the beautiful day in one of your favorite places with your favorite person. You returned to wrapping your arms around his neck, hoping to stay like this forever with him.

Perhaps the two of you could stay in this beautiful place for awhile, after all… It is your special week in the end.