#and reading this so soon after 'helen'

[fictionadventurer]

In Which I Write a Sensible Victorian Novel

Once upon a time, a woman made some mistakes in a regrettable romantic entanglement. She married a rich, respectable man and didn't want her past shame to destroy the love they shared. She immediately told her husband about her past, and her husband, being a reasonable man, understood and forgave her. No one blackmailed her, she never needed to construct an elaborate web of deception and intrigue, and she never had to worry about her husband finding out her secret from other sources. And they all lived happily ever after.

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 2

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: Thank you so much for your lovely responses on Part 1! Last week's angst was very physical. Now let's get into emotional...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 6.4K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, PSTD, hurt/comfort, medical trauma and injuries…and a bit of Nurse Benjamin? lol

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 2: “All in Your Eyes”

At first, it was all shapeless color.

It felt like a small eternity before your vision cleared, and you dimly became aware of being in a hospital room. Your steady heartbeat clipped away on the monitor.

You had an IV in your hand and wires suction-cupped to your chest. Your raggedy clothes had been replaced with a blue paper gown, hidden under the blankets keeping you warm.

It was a slow process, and it hurt, but you managed to turn your head. You saw a man sitting in the corner with a laptop balanced on his lap. He typed with two fingers at a time, which reminded you of your grandfather. His brown hair fell over his furrowed brows, but his beard was well-trimmed.

His head soon rose, possibly feeling the weight of your gaze. His eyes widened a fraction, and he hastily closed the laptop and set it down on his seat before he went to you. You frowned when he came to sit at your bedside, and even touched your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth. “How’re you feeling?”

You didn’t have the energy to lean away from his hand, but you did give him a look of weary confusion.

“I…I don’t…who are you?” you asked.

His green eyes went blank for a moment. His hand fell from your cheek. 

Then he chuckled in disbelief.

“Eyes are barely open, and already you’re fucking around,” he said.

That confused you even more. You were saved from answering, however, when there came a knock at the door. A blonde young woman peeked in. She brightened with a shocked, but happy smile when she saw you were awake.

“Hey! Oh my God, you’re awake,” she whispered in excitement. She went to your bed on the other side and picked up your hand. It took you a moment to remember her name, but you did recognize her.

“A-Annie? What…what happened?” you asked. You didn’t recognize the roughness in your own voice.

Annie shared a sobered look with the man sitting beside you, and she looked down at you again.

“Oh, hun. What do you remember?” she said.

You tried hard to think…but you couldn’t. It was all blurry and muddled in your mind.

Then, it was incredibly painful. A sharp, piercing pain that permeated through your skull and rattled down your spine, waking up the rest of your body in the worst of ways.

You whimpered, and the monitor began to beep more incessantly as your heart rate began to climb. You uttered a cry of pain while you held your aching head. You felt the gauze wrapped across your temples, forehead, and under your chin, half-covering your face.

The man turned to Annie with an angry frown.

“Get the goddamn doctor!” he snapped. But he reached for your closest hand and held it gently. He met your tearful eyes. Part of him didn’t know quite how to comfort you though. His eyes flit over your pained face, the way you were gripping your head with one hand.

He brushed his thumb over the one he held.

“…It’s okay, I got you,” he said eventually. “Just breathe.”

You couldn’t respond. There was too much pain, too much confusion. The last thing you saw was the worry in his eyes, before your head fell back against your pillow.

Your world faded away once again.

Dr. Helen Jeong, the neurologist Grace hired specifically to attend you, had been with you for a while. When she came out, Ben, Annie, your mother Marie, your sister Louisa, and the rest of the team (except for Butcher) were in the waiting room. All of them wanted to hear how you were doing, as well as the doctor’s prognosis.

Ben stood with his arms crossed, and Marie and Louisa followed suit. Technically, Marie was your next of kin, considering you and Ben weren’t married. She was close to tears again, but Louisa was supporting her.

“She’ll need a few more tests to confirm, but it looks like dissociative amnesia,” said Dr. Jeong. “It could be selective. Meaning, she remembers parts of her life, but not others, specifically tied to the past few days and the past year.”

“And me,” said Ben. He was frowning angrily. “Why doesn’t she remember me?”

She gave him a patient look.

“Her skull is fractured, but she’s also gone through an emotional trauma, as well as a physical one," she said. "The memories she’s lost are likely linked to that trauma, and so, her brain is trying to block out anything related to that painful time. It’s the body’s way of coping.”

Somehow, that explanation didn’t make it any better. Something dark and unfamiliar had been churning in Ben’s gut for days, but now he was forced to reckon with it.

It was guilt, and it was eating at his insides, clawing up to his throat. He covered it up with a hot layer of anger.

“Aside from time to heal from her injuries, it’s important that she be taken care of in a familiar, low-stress environment,” said Dr. Jeong. She aimed that last bit at Ben.

“How long until she’s better?” Louisa asked. “Will her memories come back at all?”

Ben shot her a dark look for even asking that question, but the doctor bobbed her head.

“It may take a while. Weeks, or even months, but have patience with her. As she heals, and with therapy, her memories should come back eventually,” she said. She gave Ben in particular a more reassuring glance.

He wasn’t interested in being reassured. He wanted results.

The doctor moved on so she could schedule an MRI for you, among other tests. Annie went over and laid a tentative hand on Ben’s arm. He glared at her touch and slid his gaze over to her.

“Look, we’re here for her…and for you,” she said. Even though she withdrew her hand, she looked sincere. “Whatever she needs, just let us know.”

Hughie was just behind her with a sympathetic look of agreement. M.M., Kimiko, and Frenchie were quietly supportive, if somber. You’d recognized Annie and Hughie earlier, but the others were strangers to you as well—likely because you’d met the other two at Supe Affairs, before you took on one fateful mission that would lead you to Ben. And him to you.

He let out a breath and gave Annie a minimal nod.

She smiled a little, and she and Hughie went back into your room to say goodbye for now. They promised to come back and visit, along with the others.

Meanwhile, Marie and Louisa were talking quietly. Ben’s ears perked up to it.

“I think she should come stay with you, Mom, until she’s better,” Louisa said.

When Ben heard that, he approached them. His darker frown was back in place.

“She’s coming home with me,” he said, in a tone that boded no argument. He should have remembered that your sister was too much like you sometimes. Fucking stubborn.

“If she doesn’t know you, she’s not going to be comfortable with you,” Louisa pointed out.

Marie gave her daughter a look, one that said she could’ve had a little more tact there.

“The best way for her to get her memories back is for her to stay with me, in a familiar place. In her home,” Ben said, his voice terse and shoulders tense.

“But trying to remember is hurting her,” Louisa said. “She needs to heal from her injuries first. And oh, how about this? No one will even tell us how the hell this happened in the first place!”

Ben’s frown deepened. Your younger sister had been warming up to him a bit more since the Christmas holiday you all spent together last month, but it seemed she was just as protective of you as you were of her.

Fine. Ben understood it, but Louisa was just a college student, not even old enough to order a fucking beer. He wouldn’t have this little girl telling him what was best for you.

However, as he glanced at your mother, he also couldn’t bring himself to answer Louisa’s non-question. At least, not with the whole truth.

“It was retaliation,” he replied, “for a supe we put away a while back.”

Louisa sighed heavily. Her lower lip trembled as tears welled up in her eyes, and she bit her lip and shared a look with her mother.

“Why did they want her though?” Louisa asked Ben, sniffling.

He held the tremor of unease deep inside, and he thought fast.

“He had connections in the CIA. She was the only part of the team here at the base, so he singled her out,” he said. The lie rolled off his tongue without much effort, even though part of it did add to the dark churning in his gut. His gaze fell beyond them.

“All of this is a moot fucking point,” he said. “All she needs is my blood, and she’ll be just fine.”

Louisa wiped under her wet eyes and scoffed.

“You think she’s going to accept a blood transfusion from a supe? Look, I’m sorry, but she’s not the person you know right now—”

“All the more reason to fix this sack of bullshit,” Ben snapped.

He turned on his heel and headed for your room. By now, Annie, Hughie, and the rest of them had cleared out. You were dozing, it seemed, but your eyes opened when Ben thundered in, followed closely by Marie and Louisa.

“Ben,” Louisa warned.

“What’s going on?” you asked weakly.

Ben shook his head and went to your bedside. He took up your hand and didn’t notice (or ignored) the apprehension in your eyes.

“Look, I know you think you don’t know me. You’ve been through…a lot,” he said. He paused when he considered the hell you’d probably endured the past few days. His gut began to roil again, but he pushed forward.

“Last year, you got hurt. Bad enough that you were going to need surgery,” he explained. “But I gave you some of my blood, and you healed right up. I’m gonna do the same for you now.”

You saw that he was serious, that he probably believed he was telling the truth. You just didn’t know this man—this supe that they’d told you was actually Soldier Boy. Instinctively you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp.

“No thanks,” you said, trying to hide your nerves. “I think I’m good healing on my own.”

Ben frowned. He held your hand a fraction tighter.

“Look—”

“No, you look,” you said in frustration, and a frisson of wariness. “I know you think I’m your…girlfriend or life partner or whatever the fuck, but I don’t know you.”

Just as the words left your lips, something sharp and painful flashed in your skull.

You can’t. You can’t. You can’t.

“But you do. You fucking know me!” Ben insisted. His grip on your hand tightened enough to make you flinch, a whimper sounding in your throat.

“Hey!” Louisa snapped at him.

“Ben,” Marie said, more gently, but not without urgency.

He realized what he was doing, and he forced himself to relax his grip. He watched you take your hand back and look at him like he was some kind of animal. He also realized then that you were scared. Scared of him.

Fuck me…

By degrees, he relented. Heaving a sigh, he carded a hand through his hair and gave a short nod.

“All right,” he said, and he met your eyes. “I’m, uh…I’m sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

He held your wary gaze until you nodded in acceptance. He took in your face, bruised, and still stained from the blood that had been cleaned away with antiseptic wipes. Your neck, arms, and chest were the same; your other wounds were stitched up and bandaged.

According to the first doctor who evaluated you after you came out of emergency surgery (Ben had already forgotten the broad’s name), you’d also sustained broken ribs and a fractured cheekbone, aside from your other injuries.

“And…what about the rest of it?” Ben had asked. He spoke alone with the doctor, just outside your room. Marie and Louisa were in there with you now in the ICU.

The doctor shook her head, offering a look of professional reassurance.

“No. There’s no evidence of sexual trauma,” she said.

Ben took that information in with a nod. Inside his chest, however, the clenching around his heart eased a great deal.

But even with that relief, just your battered face, and the way you were looking at him now…it was all too much.

Ben ignored the voice deep inside that said this was what he deserved.

He stood up, and he left you with your family.

While Louisa had to go back to her dorm for school tomorrow, Marie stayed with you that night. You zoned in and out while New Girl played on the little TV on the wall.

Marie caressed your hair gently, though she was mindful of the way most of your head was wrapped after surgery to fix your skull. If only they could fix your mind too.

“That man…” you trailed. “Um, Soldier Boy. All that crazy shit he was saying…was it true?”

Marie gave you a look for your use of language, but she nodded gravely, and with sadness.

“Yes, Ben was telling the truth,” she said. “He’s the one who saved you. Believe me, he’s very upset that you’re hurt like this.”

You tried to process that as you frowned in contemplation. He’d certainly been…pushy. And determined, like he could actually heal you.

It didn’t matter though. You weren’t about to let a supe feed you his blood like a damn vampire, or whatever Compound V-tainted shit he tried to give you. You weren’t Bella Swan, and this wasn’t fucking Twilight.

“Ben” was rough, and demanding, and gave off a real assholish exterior. Just before he left, though, you also saw his upset. He had taken in your injuries like he was angry, just at the state of you. Like he was mad that he hadn’t been able to prevent it.

“I guess he went home,” you said. Marie shook her head.

“No, he’s still here.”

Your brows knitted together. “What?”

“He’s in the waiting room downstairs,” she explained. “Grace made sure he had a special pass so he could stay with us in the hospital, just in case…”

“In case of what?” you asked. Marie smiled and continued to brush your hair back.

“In case we need him,” she said. “For protection, he said.”

Her eyes shone with sadness again, like she knew something you didn’t. It made you suspicious, but you were surprised that he was still here, despite what you’d said to him.

…Huh, you thought.

Thanks to the (fucking awesome) power of morphine, you fell asleep shortly after.

A week later, you were still recovering in the hospital. The shitty fact of it was, between the medication for your injuries and the risk of pulling your stitches, you could barely move. Dr. Burke was pleased that you at least had feeling in your extremities. One of her main concerns for you had been mobility issues.

Well, you still had to use a bedpan, and sometimes you missed your mouth when you ate pudding, but at least you could feel your feet.

Marie took the whole work week off from her job in order to stay with you. Louisa visited you every day she could after her classes, but she had a recital coming up, and you didn’t want her to lose focus. You encouraged her to only come if and when she finished getting in all the practice she needed.

And Ben…well, he came often. Mostly when you were sleeping. And every time you woke up, you saw something new from him: a beautiful bouquet of flowers, imported chocolates, a snack from the deli down the street from the hospital, a good breakfast from your favorite café in the city, or even several orders of takeout for you, him, and Marie.

You also noticed how your mother doted on him almost as much as she did on you, offering to grab him cups of coffee, or laying her blanket over him while he napped in the big lounge chair close to your bedside.

The guy just refused to leave. So you didn’t say anything about it. You just watched him whenever you were lucid enough to notice he was there.

As it became easier for you to stay awake, and to observe his quiet, but solid presence, the more your wariness of Ben bled away.

You soon began to realize that you were curious about him. If you really had been with him before, how had you two met? And what had made you get with a supe, let alone the original supe Vought ever introduced to America?

You considered him now while he dozed in that uncomfortable looking chair. His brown locks had once again swept over his brows, almost obscuring his eyes. Part of you itched to lean over and brush it all away from his face. If only you were close enough.

You could admit, if just within the safety of your mind, that he was a damn fine specimen of a man. Between the cut of that bearded jaw, the broadness of his arms and chest, the length of those widespread legs…

“Keep staring at me and you’ll wear a damn hole in my face,” he muttered.

You inhaled sharply, and his eyes cracked open. A small smirk raised his lips in amusement. You smiled as well, more in embarrassment at being caught.

Ben let out a long breath and rolled the cracks out of his neck, confirming your assumption that the chair was even more uncomfortable than it looked. You felt a bit bad for him, that he was putting himself through all that for your sake…for someone who didn’t remember him.

He turned to you in askance. “How’re you holding up?”

You shrugged.

“Okay. Pain meds are finally kicking in, at least for the hour.”

He nodded, dragging a hand over his beard. He knew that you’d eaten lunch with your second dose of the day not too long ago.

“You still hungry?” he asked. “I don’t know how they could give you that shit. What was that, some poor fucking excuse for baby food?”

“Whatever it was, it wasn’t pleasant,” you agreed, but the doctor had requested something you could easily digest, with all the medication you were on.

Ben shook his head and rocked onto his feet. He’d get you a candy bar or something. He knew Twix was your favorite.

“Um…Ben,” you said, halting his steps. He turned to you with a raise of his brows. You pointed over to the folded quilt at the foot of your bed. Your mom had brought it from home.

“Would you give me that blanket over there?” you asked. “I’m a little cold.”

You’d get it yourself, but it pained you to fold yourself over. Ben was gracious enough to go over and get the blanket for you. He even opened it up and covered your body up to your chest. His face was stoic, more or less, but there was care in his hands. You found yourself staring up at his face. He leaned against the guardrail of your bed and met your eyes.

“Thank you,” you said, in a near whisper. “And, um…my water?”

You pointed to the plastic cup and jug on the rolling tray to his left. He shot you a look, but he did as you asked, pouring some fresh water into the cup and handing it to you. His fingers brushed with yours on the pass, but you tried not to focus on the warmth of his hand. Instead, you took a few sips from the cup and handed it back to him. He set it back on the tray for you.

“What’d I do to get the hot nurse?” you couldn’t help but tease.

Ben’s brows rose again, somewhat incredulous this time. Then, he was unable to restrain a cocky smile.

“Hmm, I’m a let that one go, since you’re laid up,” he said. 

His gaze roamed your face. He noted that your purplish bruises were easing up somewhat, to green and yellow. Your lacerations were beginning to heal. And before, where there had been wariness, he now saw curiosity in your eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” you drew enough courage to ask.

His lips twitching to one corner, he lowered the guardrail and sat down on the edge of your bed. He gave you an expectant look. You sucked in a breath to steel yourself.

“How long have we been a…a thing?” you asked, pointing between the both of you.

Ben quirked a brow. “About a year now.”

You nodded, though your eyes were wide in surprise. You actually began to blush.

Ben smirked. He reached for the phone in his pocket and handed it over to you, after scrolling to find his photo album.

“Does that look like we don’t know each other?” he asked.

You shot him a wry glance, but you took the phone and started looking through the album. Many of the pictures that featured both of you looked like ones you’d taken, just from the angle. One picture was rather innocuous of him sitting on a couch, presumably watching TV, while you rested on his shoulder and smiled at the camera. His arm was wrapped around your waist.

Another was of you glaring at him in surprise, mid-bite on a large chili hot dog. He wore a Cheshire grin while leaning in close to your cheek.

There were several more than you flipped through, but each one made you sting with the unfamiliarity of it all. You couldn’t remember any of this, but it was undeniable what you and Ben were to each other.

Then you happened on a picture of just you, fresh out of the shower with a towel barely wrapped around you. You looked annoyed, but by the evidence of your smile, also amused that he’d surprised you with the picture.

Your blush intensified as you scrolled past that one. Then you encountered more pictures of you and him, each position filled with more bare flesh—and even more compromising than the next. You refused to press play on any of the videos.

“Oookay,” you said with a full flush heating your face and neck, and the tips of your ears. You minimized the album and all but tossed the phone back at him.

Ben’s smirk had deepened the longer he watched you peruse through the pictures. Now he chuckled and pocketed his phone.

“Like what you see, huh, sweetheart?” he couldn’t help but tease.

Frankly, you were adorable, getting all embarrassed, crossing your arms and pulling the blanket up to your neck. You shot him a look of warning.

What, you could eye him like a honey-glazed ham, flirt with him even, but you couldn’t take a little on the return side?

Ben chuckled some more and reached for your hand, to uncross your arms. You allowed it with a thinly veiled wariness. You weren’t afraid of him…anymore. But that didn’t mean there was no reason to keep your guard up around this guy.

Meanwhile, Ben actually struggled to figure out what he wanted to say to you. Something that wouldn’t put you off, or come off too strong. This was just too fucking strange…

He met your gaze with a heavy exhale.

“You’re going to be let out of here soon enough,” he said. “You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m not gonna hurt you. Matter of fact, I saved you.”

I’ve saved you more times than I can fucking count at this point, he thought wryly.

You stared back at him in contemplation. He sensed you were listening, really trying to hear him.

“You do care about me, don’t you?” you asked, almost in wonder.

Ben didn’t answer you right away. Your question took him off guard a bit, but he also found himself meeting your gaze.

“I think that’s pretty fucking obvious,” he said. You frowned at him then.

“Not entirely," you said. "Not if you don’t say it, Romeo.”

Ben stilled. Against his will, he remembered the last real words he’d said to you before this nightmare began.

“I love you,” you’d said. He could hear your pretty smile through the phone. “Just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Mhmm,” Ben replied, smiling himself. “I’ll see you soon, baby doll.”

He could also hear your disappointment, there in your brief silence.

“Come on, say it,” you implored.

Ben restrained a sigh. He cast a subtle look from the corner of his eye, watching Butcher, M.M., and Kimiko loading the car with their weapons, along with the supe they’d captured. They were all too close for comfort.

“Say what?” Ben asked, feigning ignorance. Your sigh reached him, stinging him.

“You know exactly what,” you replied.

He knew what you wanted, but he still didn’t give it to you.

He didn’t allow himself.

Now, he brushed a thumb over the back of your hand, and he sighed. Sometimes, regret weighed just as bad as guilt, even if you couldn’t admit to either one.

His gaze now slid up to yours.

“Well, I do… I care about you,” Ben said.

You’re fucking mine, his selfish heart added. He just didn’t think you’d react well to that admission.

“What do you say about coming home with me?” he asked. “I think being around all your stuff will help you…get better.”

You debated his proposition, and you realized his idea made sense. If this man was really your boyfriend, and you’d been living with him for a year…then maybe you could trust him.

Just not entirely.

“I want my mom to come too,” you said.

Ben smiled. It was a small, but true smile, and it took you by surprise. But you only felt your face getting warm again when he pressed his lips to the back of your hand. 

“Yeah, she can come help me take care of you, ‘til you’re feeling better,” he said.

You regarded him for a moment, still wondering if you could trust him. The longer you stared into his eyes, the more you found yourself relenting.  

“Okay,” you agreed. “I’ll go with you.”

After you were finally discharged from the hospital, Ben drove you and Marie out of the city to his apartment in Scarsdale. Technically, it was your apartment too.

He promised that it had been fitted with a much better security system, now with motion cameras around the apartment, and sensors on the roof. (You didn’t know that Hughie would have to explain to Ben how all that shit worked on his phone.)

The apartment itself was familiar to you, but it felt fuzzy in your mind. Like you had a dream of being here, living a life that wasn’t yours.

Thanks to the stairs, Ben left your bags at the foot of them, before he carefully maneuvered you into his arms without pressing on any of your stitches. You sucked in a shaky breath and held onto his shoulders, squeezing your eyes tight for a moment as the movement jostled your sense of equilibrium.

“You okay?” he asked. You blinked your eyes open and met his. His brows were furrowed in concern, but it was the intensity of his eyes that stole your breath. Part of you wanted to smile, half out of nerves, but you tempered it.

“Peachy,” you replied.

His lips twitched. He then moved carefully up the stairs.

He set you back down on your feet once he reached the top, at your insistence. Marie came in from behind with her suitcase and your forearm crutch, but Ben still kept a supporting arm around your waist.

“I’ve got it,” you told him, a bit nervous and hasty to escape his hold.

He released you, and reluctantly watched you head further into the apartment on your own two feet (and crutch). You wandered into each room like you were looking for a damn portal into Narnia.

It was hard for Ben to watch you like this. With a sigh, he went back downstairs to grab the rest of your things. He set them down in the living room while you ambled off into the guest room. Marie touched his arm in comfort.

“It’ll be okay, honey,” she said.

She’d developed a soft spot for Ben not too long after meeting him. And though he’d never admitted it, the sentiment was reciprocated.

He didn’t answer her, but after a moment, he nodded. She rubbed his arm with a faint smile and went to check on you.

Marie soon found you in the office you and Ben shared. It didn’t look like he used this room often, while your desk was covered in papers and files. It did, however, smell like his cologne in here.

Or, well, the scent was masculine and woodsy—like sandalwood and spice (and a hint of weed, as evidenced from the ashtray on his desk). You had to assume the scent belonged to him, even though you didn’t think he’d worn cologne at all in the hospital. Or maybe you just inherently recognized it as his.

Huh. Smell is the strongest sense, you mused to yourself.

The thought of you remembering anything at all from what you’d lost had you the slightest bit excited, and nervous. Dr. Jeong said you’d been through a terrible trauma. The evidence of it now littered your body and had nearly broken you. So you were fairly certain that there were things you didn’t want to remember.

The touch of your mother’s hand on your shoulder had you jolting. You breathed in relief when you saw her. Her eyes widened and she held up placating hands.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” she said. “You okay?”

You nodded, though you continued to take in your surroundings with a small frown. She helped you sit in one of the office chairs, as your strength was already waning.

“It seems like everything he said was true. It’s just…it’s a lot,” you said.

“Of course it is,” said Marie. “But if it helps, you seemed very happy here. You were just glowing all night with him at the Christmas party.”

Great, yet another event that was entirely blank in your mind. If you couldn’t remember celebrating your favorite holiday, then what was the point? You huffed.

“I just find it hard to believe that I’d end up with a supe,” you admitted. You worked at Supe Affairs for God’s sake.

Marie only laughed and rubbed your back. 

“Well, you found a good one,” she said. 

A good one, huh? you shook your head in true wonder.

Now that was food for thought.

When you first arrived, Ben had led you to the master bedroom and said it was your room. So why the fuck was he climbing into bed with you?

“Excuse me,” you frowned at him, drawing the blankets closer over your body. You only had on a large shirt over your underwear. It was how you preferred to dress for bed, and it was easier than pulling a pair of shorts over the healing scars on your legs.

Ben had on a gray shirt and some plaid pajama pants. He’d shucked off his old man loafers before making the right side of the bed dip with his weight. He raised a brow at you.

“What?” he asked.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“Going to bed, sweetheart. Been a long fucking week,” he retorted.

“I thought this was my bed,” you said.

“It’s our bed,” he corrected. He grabbed the edge of the blanket to pull some of it towards him, but you pulled it tighter against you.

“Look,” you said flatly. “I agreed to come here and stay with you, but I didn’t agree to this kind of close quarters.”

Ben stared back at you in annoyance and willed his temper not to snap. So fucking what if he shared the bed with you? It was a California king. The odds of your bodies even touching were slim to none.

However, he saw that stubborn look in your eyes. It was all too familiar.

Christ on a cross. He forgot how goddamn difficult you were in the beginning.

And really, you two were at the beginning, all over again. He’d gotten you to trust him, slightly, but he knew the rest would take time.

Is this really fucking worth it? came an insidious thought deep inside. The selfish part that had ruled for most of his life.

Then, he spied the silver Rolex on his nightstand—the one you’d gifted him for Christmas, along with the photo album that you’d put together for him. It included the only pictures he kept of his mother, and new ones you’d made with him. They were pictures you’d collected and captured of your life together so far.

With a deep sigh, Ben wordlessly got out of bed. He grabbed up his pillow and a throw blanket that had slid to the floor, and he made his way to the living room. Marie was taking up the only guest bedroom, so he supposed he was relegated to the couch in his own home. How the fuck did that happen?

He sat down heavily in the middle of the couch and had to take some deep breaths. His head slowly fell into his hands, elbows resting on his knees. With both hands, he tried to rub the exhaustion and frustration from his face.

There were words he couldn’t say. However, within the safety of his mind, he was forced to reckon with it.

This was his fault. He knew it, down to his bones.

It was all really his fucking fault.

He should’ve gotten you a protective security detail from the beginning. He just didn’t think anyone would have the balls to…

Ben breathed past the tightness in his chest that was once again clawing at his throat. 

Well, this fucking blows like a cheap whore, he thought.

And as you might expect, he slept fitfully that night.

The next morning, you winced at the ache in your head that was now customary for you. You had practically drowned in this giant-ass bed, but the reality was, you’d barely slept. You just couldn’t get comfortable enough to stay asleep.

You didn’t know if it was because it was an unfamiliar place, or because you now had a lower dose of pain meds than you’d been given in the hospital, or if it was because there was just something missing here.

You sighed and hauled yourself out of bed to freshen up. Really, you should’ve waited for your mother or Ben to help you out of bed, but you weren’t used to being incapacitated like this. And even when you were down, it had been ingrained in you (through your father’s special brand of “parenting”) to play through the pain.

So you grabbed your crutch from beside the bed, and somehow you managed to make it to the bathroom by yourself.

After dressing in sweatpants, a bra, and a tank top, you padded out into the hall. Your mom was still sleeping, but you found Ben in the living room.

He was sprawled out across the couch. Half the covers had slipped off his body and pooled on the floor. Again, you tried not to admire the length and broadness of his form, and the way that shirt stretched across his chest and arms.

His arm was curled across his closed eyes, but he lowered it when he heard you approaching.

His eyes were a bit red and bleary. It didn’t look like he’d slept very well either. You felt bad for that, as you leaned on the back of the couch to greet him.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” you teased him a little. “You slept like shit out here, didn’t you?”

“What was your first damn clue?” he groused. You had a feeling he was grumpy in the morning, regardless of how well he slept.

“Okay, I’m sorry about that,” you said. Even though you had every right to sleep alone, you still felt bad for making him sleep out here. “How about I make us some coffee?”

He nodded with a grunt. You smiled and teetered only slightly on your way to the kitchen. Ben frowned as he realized it.

“You shouldn’t be walking around like that yet,” he called after you.

He forced himself to get off the couch, rolling to his feet. You shot him a stubborn look.

“I’m fine,” you said.

Ben’s frown deepened with annoyance.

…Right. Okay, you weren’t exactly fine.

You were still exhausted. Still felt like utter crap, as stiffness pulled at your muscles and pain at your stitches and broken ribs. And, oh yes, your head was still broken.

But, this was the most mobile you’d been in a few weeks. You were determined to do at least one normal, productive thing today. Even if it was just making coffee, then you were going to count that as a win.

By the time Ben joined you, the coffee was done percolating and you handed him a mug. He took a sip before he remembered to tell you…no cream.

He looked into the mug in wonder. You’d actually made his coffee with sugar, no cream. Just like he liked it.

Noticing the look on his face, you paused.

“Oh, sorry. I forgot to ask how you take it.”

“No,” he said, sitting across from you at the breakfast bar. “It’s just right.”

You blinked in surprise, but then you shrugged and sipped at your own cup of coffee, which had both cream and sugar. While you were preoccupied with brainstorming where to order in for breakfast, Ben allowed himself to smile a little.

You were in there, somewhere.

He just needed to help you come out.

AN: See? I promise, there's hope. 💚

(But there's also still drama ahead...)

Next Time:

“We’re not gonna have this discussion again. You need to fucking eat,” he said. “I could feed you, though I promise you’re not gonna like it.”

His surly, frowning face was annoying you. His deep voice was annoying you. His tall, ridiculous wall-of-man body in your line of vision was annoying you, clothed in a rumpled shirt and the sweatpants he’d slept in.  

Everything about him annoyed you right now.

But that could also have something to do with the pounding ache in the back of your skull, radiating forward and between your eyes.

“Bro, I’m on like, three kinds of medication,” you replied in weary irritation. “With what appetite do you expect me to eat?”

Bro? His eyebrow twitched.

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[daenerysmacfarlane]

Wonderful Christmastime - Rupert Campbell-Black

Rupert Campbell-Black x fem Reader 18+

Authors Note: You know the brainrot is real when you write smutty fanfic for the first time in fucking forever. Annyywayyyy... enjoy. Smut warning, Helen Macaulay warning. Spoilers for Jilly Cooper's Riders and Rivals. I don't own Marcus, Tabitha, Rupert, Helen or Malise. Characters belong to Jilly Cooper. First time publishing my writing on Tumblr so please be kind :)

One couldn't really say that not a creature was stirring on the night before Christmas at Penscombe Court. Rupert's horses were frolicking in the snow earlier and probably still are. The pups are running around like crazy having just been washed except for Beaver, the black Labrador, who is sniffing the presents under the tree to see if there's any treats wrapped up for him.

I hum along to Frank Sinatra on the radio as I place the final touches of the Christmas decorations in Penscombe's massive foyer. I hear Rupert chuckle as I struggle to reach the last shelf and place a piece of holly and ribbon.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Help me, I'm short." I smile looking back at him.

Lo and behold, Rupert is standing there in a Santa suit but bare chested with a very wolfish grin on his face. He sighs and helps me put the decoration on the shelf. He pulls me into his arms.

"It looks incredible my love. Very well done."

I hum and look around. "Yes the back pain tomorrow will be very much worth it"

The foyer sparkled, especially after all the new renovations. It had been a banner year for Rupert and for Venturer. Not only had we married but Venturer had retained its franchise license and signed a new multi-year contract, the first in its kind unless you're the BBC.

After getting rid of Helen's godawful decor, the Georgian Penscombe looks as it should. Classic and regal. Mahogany wood and forest green walls accompanies the Cotswold stone floors, the Christmas tree lights gleaming off them, with a red runner carpet just to give a little bit of grip. I couldn't wait to see the look on Haughty Helly's face, as Rupert and I call her. She's pompous and spoilt with the most ridiculous taste.

Rupert's hands pull me out of my thoughts, roaming my body before slipping under the waistband of my pants. I gently place mine over his and he immediately stops. Rupert's lovely face begins to pout.

"As lovely as that would be, Tab and Marcus are going to be here soon." I chide. As per the new rules in the divorce agreement, Rupert and Helen alternate years for Christmas and this year they would be spending it with us. The last thing my stepchildren need is the sight of their father getting naughty and naked, under the Christmas tree.

He nuzzles my neck and presses gentle kisses. My resolve slowly crumbles and I turn in his arms. My hands run down his sculptured chest and I kiss him, passionately. He looks up and I follow his eyes to the mistletoe I hung up two hours ago. He begins to back me up against the wall next to it and slowly makes his way down my body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake until he is eye line with the zip of my pants. Undoing the button, he slowly unzips me and pulls them and my underwear down. He groans at how wet I am, the wetness betraying my noble thoughts to be good in case we're caught. Hooking my leg over his shoulder, he begins to eat me out like a man starved. It feels like he's been there for ages and I gasp and moan as his incredibly talented tongue makes patterns on the little bundle of nerves. Just the feeling of that brings me close to the sweet release and Rupert smirks as he reads my body and reaction.

I thread my fingers in his dark hair and growl, "Pull away and you'll be having a very blue Christmas."

He moans in response and the vibrations tip me over the edge, body shaking out my release. He makes his way up my body taking my shirt off in the process. His face lights up when he doesn't see a bra.

"Oh Mrs Campbell-Black! How naughty..."

"That's not what you said last night, Rupe." I unbutton the Santa pants and push them down, finding him sans boxer briefs, intimidatingly large and standing at attention.

He picks me up by my thighs and instantly slides into me. We both moan as he sinks into me and I feel that oh, so familiar stretch, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Christ I'll never get over the feel of you, my love." He mutters earnestly and begins to roll his hips in the most delicious way possible.

I grip on to the back of his coat as his lips come crashing down on mine, hips still rolling as if he was cantering across the field. My fingers grip harder and harder as the familiar pressure builds and my muscles clench around him.

"Fuck, do that again and I'm not going to last." His hips stutter for a moment before falling back into rhythm.

Moans and the sound of skin on skin ricochet around the foyer. He slips a hand between my legs and rubs my little nerve while increasing his pace, fucking me senseless. The pressure builds and builds until I tumble over into bliss. With a great thrust, Rupert follows suit. We hold each other and catch our breath. He kisses me deeply and gently bites my bottom lip.

"Merry Christmas Mrs Campbell-Black." He smirks.

"Merry Christmas Mr Campbell-Black. Thank you for that wonderful gift." I smile.

"I always try to give you exactly what you want."

"This year I want a corgi."

Just as he's about to respond, the sound of tires on the gravel outside filters in. We look at each other.

Rupert scoffs, "Talk about timing. Oh fuck and she's early too."

We both rush to make ourselves presentable for Helen and the kids and make it just in time, Tabitha barreling in. She looks around with her mouth agape.

"Wow who did the tree?" She asks.

I smile at my dear stepdaughter. "I did, do you approve Ms Tab?"

"Yeah looks way better than Mummy and Malise's." She nods and giggles.

"Looks like she got her fine tastes from me. I always knew she was well and truly mine." Rupert snorts.

We hear a familiar shake of an asthma puffer and Marcus joins his sister in admiring the tree and decorations. Rupert's ex-wife, Helen and her new husband, Malise Gordon, who was Rupert's chef d'equipe when he rode for Team Great Britain, follow closely behind. Helen looks around at the changes we've made, replacing everything trace of her and the lands on our disheveled appearance. Her face sets hard, looking like she's almost popping a blood vessel.

"The renovations look lovely. So do the decorations." Malise smiles.

"Thank you, Malise." I return the smile.

"Looks a bit dark and gothic, quite primitive actually if you ask me." Helen sneers.

"All wifey's wonderful choices. Sets the tone perfectly for a nasty, hard and hot fuck not that Penscombe's last decorator knew what that was." Rupert retorts and his hand slides from my back to rest on my behind. He gives a gentle squeeze.

Helen is seething and Malise takes her arm to lead her outside, saying goodbye to the children at the same time to not ruin their Christmas with Rupert. Tabitha sighs at the sight of her mother.

"Poor Malise. Mummy's going to lose her shit in the car."

Marcus takes his puffer. "Bad words, Tab."

"Oh shush, now which one of these gifts has my pony in it?" She says as she picks up the gift neatly labeled Tabitha.

[1d1195]

Toothpaste III

Read Toothpaste here | ~2.6k words

From me: Been way longer than it was supposed to since I last chatted about these two.

Warnings: a couple sweet fluffy puns and pining.

Summary: Harry realizes there's a bit of nepotism in hiring her to work for him while she finds a new job. But Harry would call it flat out favoritism. Also, he really likes the way she says Dr. Styles when she answers the phone.

“Good morning, Dr. Styles office.”

Harry was used to hearing his name said by women all the time. He worked with all women—they all reminded him of his mum which is why he hired them. Unfortunately, he found that many of the newly graduated dental hygienists were there for him...and not the job. He started his practice fresh out of school. Wanting to make good on his degree (and start pecking away at the loan debt from dental school) and help those with toothaches as soon as humanly possible. He was kind to each of them, but he wasn’t oblivious to the flirting that attempted to reel him in during the interview process. They would make small remarks about how they saw themselves fitting right in at his practice—and life. They batted their eyelashes and smiled just a hair too hard.

Now, he was no better than those he turned down in favor of the woman flitting about his office and eyeing the same sweet girl on desk duty. Hiring her because she was pretty, funny, intelligent.

And very much unemployed thanks to him.

Not even dinner first?

It rang in his head. The promise to take her to dinner still only remained just that: a promise. He had given her space as she was excited about the time to herself for the first time in two years. But then when she called again about a month after, claiming she was getting bored and antsy, Harry had to hire her. There had been paperwork to get hired. Training in what her tasks would be as she made the desk her home-away-from-home.

It seemed wrong to hire her and desperately want to go on a date with her, so he separated the two. Let her get her feet under her and whatnot. So, he never got to find out if ‘open’ would be the last of their flirting.

Unfortunately, Harry was ready to let all of his sanity fly out the window. The way Styles sounded in her mouth was a sin and a virtue. Completely and totally the cause for him struggling to maintain a semblance of control over his emotions.

“I know we say drooling is good thing in this office, Dr. Styles, but that’s a bit much,” Mary chided as she walked past him in the small hallway between rooms. Harry cleared his throat. Once more thankful for the mask covering the majority of his face to hide the blush that rose to his cheeks. She was none the wiser, fiddling with a pen as she listened intently. The little headset on her head while she scribbled on a notepad.

“Let me check and I’ll call you right back, yeah? If not, I’ll find someone to recommend,” her voice was so soothing, oozing with kindness and understanding that Harry didn’t know was necessary for someone scheduling appointments for him, but it was the moment he heard her voice. There was an exchange of goodbyes and then she clicked the headset off. “Dr. Styles,” she sang analyzing her notes while clicking and tapping away at her keyboard.

Now Harry had to pretend like he wasn’t just waiting for her to call for his attention. He turned immediately into a patient room where Helen was tending to a teen boy. Helen glanced up; her eyes danced with a smile unseen by her own mask as she continued to pick at the buildup between her patient’s teeth. “Toby isn’t due for an exam, Dr. Styles,” Helen teased.

He glared at her briefly and turned to call out of the room. “Jus’ a second, love.”

“Did you hear that, Toby?” Helen whispered. “Dr. Styles is a bit smitten with his secretary. He’s trying to act casual.”

Toby smiled around the instruments in his mouth and peered back toward where Harry stood. “She pre-ee,” he murmured.

“She is pretty,” Helen agreed. “But he’s pretending like he isn’t in love with her.” Toby chuckled around the tool once more and Harry glared at him.

“There’s a joke ‘bout me being a sadistic dentist, Toby. Make sure y’floss before y’next exam,” he warned lowly. “Helen,” he nodded.

“Dr. Styles,” she nodded in response, the smile never leaving her eyes.

*

She was scribbling on the calendar in front of her inputting as many random national dates as possible. It started shortly after her arrival. The other women in the office usually multitasked their dental duties as well as the front desk. They were excited to have her. As motherly as they were, they knew immediately why Dr. Styles hired the pretty girl and were hopeful the otherwise quiet, shy man would open himself up for her and let love in rather than spend all his waking hours thinking about his practice.

The day of her follow up appointment, she informed him it was National Chocolate Ice Cream Day and she wanted to be sure she would be allowed to celebrate.

“National what?” He chuckled.

It was the kind of thing that made life a little more enjoyable, she explained. After he hired her to be secretary, it was a whirlwind filling the calendar with as many silly days to recognize as possible. Many days had multiple things to be celebrated, so she chose carefully. National Dimples Day was a must—given that Harry had pretty dimples hiding behind his mask. It was followed by National Pina Colada Day, and she told him it was one of her favorite summer drinks.

“Did y’need something?” His voice was warm. Like always. The way it made her feel safe when she was scared that first time she met him, worried a root canal was in her very immediate future. “What’s that say?”

“National Retainer Day!” She nearly cheered. She looked up at him with a bright smile and he couldn’t help but fall harder for her. Each topic of the day was curated with someone in mind. Even the other ladies in the office got their moment to celebrate something they loved as she would randomly call out factoids about the coming month. “Anyone like rosé?” She had called.

“Who doesn’t?!” Melissa shouted back. Of course, the entire time she worked was spent mainly doing tasks, waiting in between calls and tasks to continue filling in the calendar with her funny days of recognition.

Harry was still chuckling about Retainer Day. “Something y’needed t’ask from y’phone call?” He repeated gently to jog her memory.

“Oh yes,” she dropped her pen midway through writing National “Ba” and he felt a little bad for interrupting her thought. Also, he desperately wanted to know the end of the word, and what they would be celebrating in a few weeks. She opened a different window back up and held her notebook poised professionally in front of her. “It’s a little boy,” she explained. “His teeth sound a lot like mine, so I’m probably being too nice,” she frowned. “I know you’re not a pediatric dentist, but the mom sounded exhausted so I told her I would ask and if not recommend someone you know personally from dental school who would take care of him.”

The kindness in her heart was way too sweet. No wonder she was filled with cavities.

“S’fine, set it up, I’ll look.”

“Like today?”

“S’it that serious?” Harry asked curiously.

“Mom sounds exhausted.”

“Like she’s going t’pull her son’s teeth out at a hardware store?”

“Exactly,” her smile was so beautiful. Harry knew smiles.

“S’this m’next patient?” He asked pointing at the tablet waiting beside her. She handed it to him and watched him read.

The way Harry leaned against the counter surrounding her desk put his forearms on full display making her stomach flip. Due to the mask, she couldn’t see his mouth—which was probably for the best. If she saw his lips, his nice teeth, perfect smile, or that dimple in his left cheek she would do something crazy, like kiss him in the middle of his waiting room. Even though no one was there in the waiting room, it seemed like a precedent she couldn’t let happen. Especially when her coworkers were down the hall with patients as well.

His eyes were so focused on the tablet, he didn’t even notice she was staring at him. His concentration was adorable. It was obvious Harry cared about all his patients. He was so intelligent (obviously) and just overall lovely.

“Are we ever going to go on our date?” She whispered quietly so not even Mary, Helen, or Melissa could hear.

Harry nearly dropped the tablet. His mask saved him once more by hiding his surprise. “Oh...um...” It spooked him that she was so confident and easy going about their flirting. It was only a few moments of flirtation and yet, it was enough to make him flustered. Tongue-tied. His brain misfired, no words could get out of his mouth.

Which was not great for her.

“I’m sorry,” she looked away and her hair fell in front of her face so he couldn’t see her embarrassment. “That was rude, I was...” she shook her head. “Forget I said it.”

Her heart was threatening to beat out of her chest, and she thought she might die of mortification. How could she say that in the middle of the workday? That was so inappropriate. Maybe more inappropriate since he was a hand deep in her mouth and she asked to open for him. At least then she was a patient and could leave. Instead, he was going to have to go be a hand deep in someone else’s mouth thinking about how she cornered him and flirted with him when she shouldn’t have.

Her stupid mouth was going to get her fired again. She finished the word “Bagel” on her calendar and looked for the information to call that poor mother back. She dialed the phone number and listened on her headset at the other end rang.

A note was dropped on her desk, a prescription paper from Harry’s notepad. Fluttered and settled directly in front of her as the phone continued ringing. She turned to see Harry’s retreating figure before she picked it up and read it.

Tomorrow? Tooth-irty is too early. How about six?

*

The bell to her apartment rang at quarter to six. She was doing some finishing touches to her hair and makeup, and it seemed they would remain unfinished. She wasn’t mad that he was early because it was making her anxious to wait for so long (hence the extra primping). “Just a second!” She called scrambling to put the last bobby pin in place and swiped mascara over her lashes quickly.

She hurried to the door and pulled it out of the way. Harry held three red roses in his hand. “Sorry m’early. I was... nervous and excited.”

“Nervous?” She questioned.

He nodded but didn’t say anything else. Harry wasn’t a man of many words. He was quiet overall. But when he did speak, every word was warm, important. Nerves must not have been important. “Those are beautiful,” she reached out to touch the mini bouquet. The petals were like velvet, and she imagined that he paid a pretty penny for just three little roses.

“S’not too much?” He asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “They’re perfect.”

He released a relieved sigh and smiled. “Good.”

*

At dinner, Harry pulled her chair out and his knee bumped hers beneath the table. She tried to memorize every detail of the moment. It was a feeling that started all the way in her toes and worked up to the roots of her hair. This was a big day. A big moment.

Three months ago, she was in a different world. Now she was at a new job, a new apartment, and on a date with her unbelievably handsome dentist and boss. It was unreal and perfect and something that didn’t happen every day. Something that had never happened to her.

So, she was memorizing every little detail so that when she thought about it for the rest of her life she could talk about the wrinkle near the corner of his mouth when he smiled. How his eyebrow quirked up when he read something he liked on the menu. The way his fingers wrapped around the stem of his wine glass like he was a connoisseur. Was he? She wanted to ask.

“S’it alright?” He asked quietly.

In all her memorizing, she forgot how quiet she must have gotten. Even a man as few words as Harry, it was probably unnerving to sit in silence while sipping at wine, listening to the quiet jazz quartet in the corner of the space while the girl across from him nibbled at the bread on her plate and stared at him for what must have been an embarrassing number of minutes. “Yes,” she said quickly, her knee bumping against his and the table causing the glasses to wiggle. He smiled. That gorgeous, beautiful smile that should have been on pamphlets and billboards for his practice. “Sorry,” she cleared her throat.

She wondered if he would ask her back to his place. Was it too much to do that? Maybe they could just hang out. Her entire work week was spent with Harry and yet she just wanted more time with him. Like something had changed in her that this was...this was something more. More than a toothache. More than toothpaste.

“Are you alright, love? You’re awfully quiet...”

“Can I say something...insane? You obviously don’t mind my ranting thus far between my intake form and my appointments. But this one might... really make you regret asking me out... I don’t know... I just think I have spent a lot of my young adulthood being unhappy. I watched rom-coms and read romance novels and envisioned this all-encompassing love that would put Nicholas Sparks to shame. Then I started my job fresh out of college and I hadn’t thought about love in three years? Four years. Four years of not thinking about love, reading about love, watching love and it was my favorite thing in the world...and then I got a toothache and wanted to yank it out myself and you were just there. You don’t say a lot but you... you helped me quit a job I wasn’t happy in, a job I wasn’t in love with a job that was killing me from the inside out,” she took a breath and Harry was stoically watching her. “I am trying to focus on everything that is happening. For the last three months I’ve been trying to figure all of this out and remember every little detail about you. The way that your knee feels next to mine and how your ring clinks on your wine glass and how I have imagined falling in love so many times in my life and I never thought it would happen in a dentist office—arguably, my least favorite place in the world.”

Speechless. Completely totally speechless.

Harry held his hand up for the waiter. “Could we get our food t’go?” He asked.

Part of her hoped the ground would open up and swallow her. The anxiety and mortification she felt was so intense her voice was dead in her throat. All emotion stopped existing. Part of her thought she did combust as he asked to leave. “Is everything alright?” The waiter asked.

“Yes,” Harry nodded assuredly. “S’jus’... I’ve got a bit of a toothache,” he explained and glanced at her finally. The left dimple making itself visible. The relief swam through her. “Need t’head home t’take care of it. S’that okay, love?” He asked quietly.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “It’s that sweet tooth of yours.”

“Well, y’know me, love,” he winked and handed his credit card to the waiter. “I crave sweet things.”

--

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[child0feden]

FUNNEL OF LOVE

nico rosberg x wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter

♡ general headcanons for a valentine’s day with nico!

୨୧ my man my man my man! love him so much… i know valentine’s day has very much passed but just let me live <3 this takes place before little ladybug is born

♡ related smau available here, related hc available here and here | view my formula 1 masterlist here

reading music recommendations: funnel of love by wanda jackson - i wanna be loved by you by helen kane

♡ you and nico send rosie to her grandparents house the night before valentine’s day!

୨୧ as much as you both absolutely adore your little rabbit, rosie has been with you guys every valentine’s day since she was born…

♡ so for this one, you decided to spend it with just the two of you at home <3

୨୧ luckily you didn’t even have to try and convince her to go to her grandparents house for two days, she absolutely loves them and spending nights at their house

♡ it was honestly harder for nico to stop asking her if she has everything she needs, say bye and get back in the car after dropping her off… he hates saying bye to his little rabbit, even if he’s literally picking her up in the morning of the day after valentine’s day…

୨୧ you don’t think you guys have any plans, you’re probably just going to let your life flow with the day! oh boy, you’re wrong!

♡ when the morning of valentine’s day rolls around, you wake up ( much later than usual ) to the absence of nico’s arms holding you like they usually are…

୨୧ slightly peeved, you slide out of bed and make the short journey downstairs, looking for your husband

♡ you find him in the kitchen, cooking pancakes for you and they smell amazing

୨୧ when he notices you in the doorway, he gives you a beaming smile and comes over to give you a peck on the lips before telling you to go relax in the living room

“ good morning, miene liebe! you look beautiful this morning, as always, go watch some tv hm? breakfast, or i suppose brunch, will be done soon ” ( you’ll never understand how he’s such a morning person )

♡ while sitting in the living room, you can faintly hear him humming to himself and mumbling though you can’t make out what he’s saying

୨୧ when the pancakes are done, nico comes sauntering in to the living room, bending down to give you another kiss before giving you your plate and sitting down next to you with his, gesturing for you to lean into his side as you always do

♡ while eating, you notice nico is suspiciously smiley and giddy… but alas, you don’t say anything, figuring he’s just enjoying the peace of the morning without your crazy little rabbit running around and making a mess ( you should’ve known that wasn’t the reason, seeing his girl run around and make a mess does make nico happy because she’s happy )

୨୧ eventually after breakfast, nico asks you if you’d like to go into the local village with him, telling you he has to pick something up

♡ you’re even more confused now… pick something up? he hasn’t told you about him ordering anything and he doesn’t explain

୨୧ your curiosity is too strong and you agree, both of you heading upstairs to change into some day clothes

♡ nico could never get tired of watching you get ready, he thinks you’re the most beautiful person he’d ever seen and after giving him a child his love only grew stronger

୨୧ on the drive, his free hand rests on your leg, holding your hand under his, gently squeezing it every now and then… eventually, you ask what it is he’s picking up

“ it’s a surprise, meine liebe, you’ll know soon enough… ”

♡ when you drive into the village, the car pulls up outside of the cutest little flower store and nico asks you to wait in the car, giving you a kiss on the cheek before getting out

୨୧ you watch him enter the shop through the car windows, wondering what exactly he has planned…

♡ less than five minutes of him entering the shop, you see the door open and out he walks wearing a big grin and holding a gorgeous bouquet of assorted pink flowers in his right hand

୨୧ when he gets back in the car, you’re immediately leaning over the console and smothering him in kisses, thanking him as he goes to hand you the bouquet

“ you’re welcome, miene liebe, only the best for my beauty ”

♡ you’re beaming for the whole drive home, admiring the flowers as nico’s eyes drift over to you every once and a while, looking at you with a certain gleam in his eyes… oh, he’s not done

୨୧ when you arrive home, he’s helping you get out of the car ( opening the door for you and offering his hand, treating you like a princess getting out of a horse pulled carriage ) whilst you chuckle

♡ as you’re putting the flowers away in a vase, marvelling at them as they sit on the kitchen table, nico tells you to relax as he’s going to run a bath for the two of you

୨୧ and you do, by the time he calls you upstairs and you wander into the bathroom, the bath is full with a small layer of bubbles and petals on top… lit candles scattered throughout the bathroom which causes a smell of roses to enter your nose <3

♡ as you get in, you sit back against his chest, one of his hands stroking the side of your cheek whilst the other rests on your hip under the warm water

୨୧ the steam rising from the water makes you sigh, leaning your head back against his neck and gently kissing it as he looks down at you with nothing but love swirling around in his eyes

“ you’re so beautiful, miene liebe, i feel like i don’t tell you that enough, you know? ” ( he absolutely does, he tells you at least ten times a day )

♡ you guys must spend an hour in the bath, just giggling between yourselves as you place bubbles on each other’s face

୨୧ eventually, you both get out, the water having gone extremely lukewarm and nico tells you to get dressed up however you’d like as he has a reservation booked for dinner ( yet another thing you had no idea about but were very pleasantly surprised by )

♡ it’s quite a drive into the city where the restaurant is so it makes sense, by the time you get there it’ll be around dinner time

୨୧ when you’re getting ready, nico is again admiring you all whilst getting himself dressed up at the same time, buttoning up his shirt wrong as he was too hypnotised by you…

♡ you giggle as you point it out to him, reaching over to fix them for him as he chuckles

“ well, can you blame me? i was just too focused on the living art piece that stands before me ” ( god, he’s such a sap… but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it )

୨୧ you two look amazing as you prepare to leave, making sure your hair is fine and spraying on some perfume before you take nico’s awaiting arm and walk out the door

♡ on the lengthy drive to the restaurant, nico hums to whatever is playing on the radio as you admire him from the side… he notices and sends you a wink before beginning to talk about his little rabbit

“ i really am so proud of our little rabbit, miene liebe… she’s getting so big, so smart, so beautiful… just like her mother ” ( he has that proud dad smile on his face as he thinks about his little rabbit )

୨୧ when you reach the restaurant, nico again helps you exit the car, holding your bag for you and taking your hand

♡ the restaurant is beautiful, of course it is! nico wouldn’t settle for anything less for his beauty

୨୧ as you’re seated, nico takes your hand over the table, gently stroking over your fingers whilst you browse the menu

♡ dinner is unsurprisingly amazing, you and nico having giving each other taste tests of your food, jokingly trying to decide who has the best taste in food

୨୧ as you pay the bill and leave, both of you have the most lovesick smiles on your face, anyone passing you two would be able to tell how much you adore each other just by the look on your faces

♡ by the time you get home, nico is covered in lipstick kiss prints due to how many times you kissed him thank you for the amazing day on the way home ( i mean, really, you attacked him with kisses at every red light )

୨୧ as you enter the house, nico suddenly gasps and shouts at you to stay put in the living room, absolutely do NOT come to the bedroom!

♡ you’re laughing as he speed walks away and up the stairs, wondering what his final surprise of the day is…

୨୧ after a couple of minutes, he calls you up though when you reach the bedroom door it’s closed and nico is standing against it

♡ he takes your hand in his and suddenly goes on a huge ramble about how much he loves you, how happy you and your little rabbit make him, how he wishes he could give you the world… and how he hopes today brought you some happiness

୨୧ by the time it’s over, he’s almost out of breath and you’re nearly in tears, softly smacking him on the shoulder and telling him of course today made you happy, every day with him makes you happy, you could sit and watching paint dry with him but you’d still be so over the moon because you’re with him

♡ you’re both softly making out in the hallway after your shared confessions of love towards each other and he quietly gasps into your mouth, realising oh my god, you’re making out in the hallway like teenagers whilst the bedroom is right behind you!

୨୧ you share a laugh at his realisation before finally opening the bedroom door and you’re greeted by a dimly lit room, some lit candles spread around and flower petals laying atop your bed… so that’s what he was doing up here!

♡ you immediately turn to look at him and he gives a soft smile

“ wanted to give you one last surprise, you deserve so many, miene liebe… ”

୨୧ you smash your mouth against his, pushing him over to the bed as his hands wander your body, stripping each other of your clothes, the following two hours ( yes, two hours! listen, it’s been a while since you’ve really been able to get down and dirty since you’re had rosie ) are filled with sounds of pleasure filling the room, open mouth kisses being shared between you both as you make love on rose scented sheets

♡ oh yeah, this is the best valentine’s day you’ve had in a long time…

ynln: happy valentine’s day, i had the pleasure of begin treated like a princess by my own prince! ladies, don’t settle for anyone less than nico 🌸 🫧 🦢

nicoynforever: when will i find someone that treats me how nico treats yn? 💔

nicorosberg ✔️: only the best for you, miene liebe ❤️

loveyounico: where’s little rabbit?

> nicoynforever: in all of their past valentine’s day posts she’s been there so this must be their first without her 🥹

oldf1lover: that 6th picture… god, they look so good

[see-arcane]

It's a special day in Dracula!

Jonathan experiences a flashback to the Horrors, Mina experiences bisexuality in the wild, and the poor nameless Pretty Girl in Piccadilly rides out of the story, parcel in hand and chic cartwheel hat on, oblivious to the Count stalking after her. In honor of the anonymous young lady who proves for a third time that Dracula and Mina have literally the exact same taste—Jonathan, Lucy, random beauties on the street—I wanted to take a crack at giving her an identity.

But I am also indecisive as hell, so she can be one of a number of pretty persons of note. For example…

Miss Piccadilly #1: Clarimonde

My original favorite choice, if only because I love the idea of Clarimonde still cruising around after the heartbreak she left behind in her own story, “La Morte Amoureuse” (The Dead Woman in Love), aka “Clarimonde.” She is now and always the undead Parisian party queen of my heart, but I could see her traveling around to dabble in hedonism in other corners of the world. Naturally she has to go and catch the attention of the local aristos. Human or otherwise.

But, of course, she is psychic and can read Dracula like a bloodstained book. Keep walking, bat bastard. Her vampiric voluptuousness is reserved for VIPs. (Maybe that fetching mourning couple she saw gawking in the park…)

Miss Piccadilly #2: Helen Vaughan

Oh, Helen Vaughan, elegant hostess and demigoddess horror supreme. I don’t care what Arthur Machen says, your story did not end with the conclusion of The Great God Pan. You were life and death and human and beast and all the hideous realities in-between and a mortal end could never keep you down. Especially not when you have so many paramours left to entertain! So many secrets profane and maddening to share! One of these days you’ll catch one who won’t dissolve into madness and self-destruction after a little innocent eldritch chit-chat.

Like this charming Count here! Count? Count, where are you going? Count, she just wants you to meet her dad—why are you running? Why are you running?

Miss Piccadilly #3: Luna Blue

What’s this? An OC?

Well, of course. No one’s actually naming their child Luna Blue in the late 1800s; that’s just her professional pseudonym. It’s amazing how well the spiritualist movement can work out for a girl with a knack for shuffling painted cards or chatting with the night sky and the occasional planchette. She can even boast something more than showmanship behind her skill. The sort of ‘something’ that worried Transylvanians might whisper about in fear on a certain haunted date while a likewise worried solicitor breaks out the polyglot dictionary.

She recognizes Dracula for what he is as surely as he recognizes her. No, she is not interested, voivode. Even if she was, she’d be out a benefactor within—a hard look at him here; cold and far—oh dear. Scarcely more than a month. At least by her guess. But oh, there is good news in his future too! He shall cross paths with an old friend soon! How lovely. She’s certain these things are not connected. Don’t even worry about it.

Miss Piccadilly #4: Cosette Marchand

The fourth and final young lady in the roster is one more original character and she deserves absolutely none of the horror coming her way. This is Miss Cosette Marchand, an artist by hobby and profession. The parcel received from the jeweler’s was a commissioned necklace and earrings she designed herself. A glittering birthday gift for her mother who will chide her for such an extravagance, Cosy, she has no place to wear such things! But they are lovely…

She’s so lost in her daydreaming that she doesn’t realize the hansom behind her has been following the victoria since leaving Piccadilly Square. All the way home. Home, where there are no bloodletting suitors, no wise professors, no divine or diabolic powers to forestall the natural progression of things between predator and prey. There is only a nightmare waiting for her, unobstructed.

…By anything other than my own bleeding heart. I’m too attached. She has to make it.

So.

How does Miss Marchand’s story go?

Turns out, her mother has some experience in these matters. Her mother being one Laura Marchand, who left a thirsty terror of her own behind twenty years ago. One she has mourned as much as feared in the time between the love of a husband eaten by war and the sharper kisses of a girl far more than a friend or living being. She recognizes the sour reflection of Carmilla’s eagerness in the Thing pretending to be a nobleman at the door. She still has General Spielsdorf’s axe. She has kept the steel sharp. Tonight she will whet it sharper still, from dusk until dawn.

You see all that yellow in her dress. It’s recently become one of her favorite colors, owing to a most diverting play she happened to read. Such lush storytelling! What decadent inspiration! She simply had to design something fine in honor of it. She does hope her mother will appreciate the artful way the gold was wrought, twisting in echo of the Sign. A mother who has gone so strangely still since she happened to glance at the second act of the play. Still and cold. Perhaps she will be cheered by her gift and their guests. There is a nobleman at the door, Mother! And there, see, leaking from the yellow damask wall is His Tattered Majesty—oh. Where has their visitor gone? He shall miss the masquerade! Ah, well. His loss.

Scheherazade…2! In which Miss Marchand pulls a Jonathan by stalling via playing to charm and utility. She wears many hats beside the cartwheel when it comes to the arts. Portraiture, fashion in fabric and ornaments. Surely the Count can savor the spider-and-fly game a little longer for that and some pretty panicked smiles. Look how much patience and frustration he burned on Lucy! Yes, yes, a little while longer to draw things out, play at flirtation between artist and patron, isn’t this nice? Ha ha. (Please don’t drink me please don’t drink me please don’t drink me.)

Well. She got drinked. And maybe succumbed to death before the Count could get slain. But the bat bastard does get put down eventually and she still gets to pop back up! Good news: She’s not under the Count’s thrall! She can think and act for herself! Nice! Bad news: Vampire. At least she can drink her problems* away. (*Problems with names like Atherton, Wotton, Gray…)

Her neighbors are the other three Piccadilly girls. Dracula makes his way downtown, walking fast, walking faster— 

Werewolf free space.

[cryptocism]

Since I think about clones like I’m getting paid for it, I've been rotating those alternate universe "what if Bart and Thad were actually raised together" scenarios in my brain, with Thad either post-redemption-arc or pre-villainy. Because adjusting Thad's character to fit an ally role while still keeping true to his core motives and personality is so so fascinating to me.

Like I think there's an immediate first instinct to slot Thad into a "bad" twin category: ie rebellious and prickly, doesn't get along with people, mean lil shit. And obviously it's not wrong bc we're outside the realm of canon, but the reading still feels a little left of center.

Because Thad is mean and prickly in canon. In the Impulse comics he belittles Bart and Bart’s friends/family constantly in his appearances. He loves to goad, and monologue about his own superiority and intelligence. He’s very Not Nice, and he causes many problems, and he even does it on purpose.

But, I think it’s important to consider the context. From the jump Thad knows very little about anything except which team he’s on and who he’s playing for. He gets his orders from an unseen authority and he carries out his tasks because success means his team wins.

For all his self-aggrandizing talk, everything he does is in service of an end goal that doesn't actually center him. He's trying to get revenge for grievances he's never personally suffered, retribution for actions never committed against him. Everything he does is on someone else's behalf.

Thad sees in black and white, us or them. Up until the final few issues of Mercury Falling, Bart and co. are Thad's enemies, of course he's not going to be nice.

So Thad's motivation seems pretty simple: Thawne Supremacy™.

But it’s in Mercury Falling where this starts to fall apart, and the real core of his motivation gets revealed. Thad pretends to be Bart and suddenly Helen is nice to him. Bart’s friends think he’s funny. Bart’s teachers are impressed with his grades. Max ruffles his hair and gives him hugs and tells him he’s done a good job.

If he was actually an inherently mean and standoffish character, if Thad actually had significant personal stake in the Thawne VS Allen conflict, the weight of such tiny acts of kindness wouldn’t completely break him the way that it does in canon.

Thad thinks his goal is superiority and revenge and Thawne Supremacy™, but he's chasing validation. Thad doesn’t have a personal stake in the Thawne VS Allen conflict. He wouldn't get much satisfaction if he actually destroyed Bart and his family. Thad's personal victory would be the recognition after the fact: the praise and attention from the other Thawnes (a group of people he has literally never met) for his success.

He wants validation. That's basically it. And the fact that he gets it so easily from Bart's family and friends doesn't align with how he's told himself things are supposed to work.

Actually tangentially, Bart and Thad’s respective relationships to authority is so diametrically opposed and tbh kind of subversive in a superhero narrative. Where the hero is the one carving his own path without regard to social or societal rules, no fucks to give what anybody thinks of it. And the villain is a chronic people-pleaser.

Just based on Thad’s reaction to simple praise and affection from Max I really think Thad’s motivation has more to do with the response he gets than whatever the details are of any given task. He has no actual personal convictions beyond getting positive attention, and whatever he did have crumbled as soon as Bart’s friends laughed at his joke one time. Which of course leads into the core of his whole conflict at the end of Mercury Falling. He cares too much about Bart’s friends and family now, he doesn’t want to kill them, but worse than that, he’s faced with the sudden realization that he’s on the wrong side.

The Allens gave Thad everything he actually wanted and needed, but his conception of himself is inexorably tied to the Thawnes: who gave him jack shit. These two facts are in opposition to each other, and he can’t reconcile the reality of it.

Anyway all this to say, in an AU where Bart and Thad are raised together or Thad gets an actual redemption arc etc etc, I think my personal take on Thad’s personality whether it be pre-or-post-villainy would be one that is extremely socially conscious. He is much more of a people-person than Bart. Whether he's actually accurate in assessing people's feelings and how to respond to them can be hit or miss, but he wants to behave in a way that gets people to like him.

Pretending to be Bart isn’t remarked upon as, like, a difficult task for Thad. In his internal monologue he’s literally bragging to himself about how easy it is. But what’s especially notable to me is where his act differs from Bart's typical MO. Everyone notices, and lots of people comment, and presumably if Thad didn’t have the excuse of Max’s illness to “motivate” Bart to do better he would’ve been found out immediately. And those things are, specifically: paying attention in class, doing his chores, staying on task, and being helpful around the house. The one thing about Bart he chooses not to emulate is Bart’s rebelliousness.

Thad wants to prove himself, constantly, to whatever authority he respects (probably Max in this scenario) and will do whatever it takes to make that happen. In contrast to Bart, who only listens to authority when the shit they're saying actually makes sense to him. It’s excessively difficult to convince him to go against his own interests. (And I think a key part of that is Bart’s security in knowing that no matter how much he fucks up or doesn’t listen, the people he loves will always love him back.)

Thad’s got the people-pleaser in him that has to deserve whatever he’s given. It’s why he’s happiest when he’s given a clear goal or objective to complete, because it gives him an opening to prove himself.

All this to say that if we are quantifying Bart and Thad as a "good" or "bad" twin, in the eyes of every authority: Bart is the bad twin. Bart is the bad twin, Bart is the bad twin. Bart is the one who doesn’t care about school and whose grades vary wildly depending on his personal interest. He’s the one who goes off to do dangerous shit for fun and gets in trouble constantly and doesn’t do his chores and is thoroughly unconvinced by any authority figure trying to sell him bullshit. 

Thad is the one who needs to know all the rules just so he can experience the joy of following them. Relentlessly obedient. He'll put all his effort into doing all the right things that’ll endear him to whoever he wants to impress - meaning he’s the asshole who reminds the teacher about the assigned homework. Bart might be the most popular boy in school, but Thad is a pleasure to have in class.

Like Thad can (and should) still be high-strung and short-tempered and sarcastic and edgy and mean, because he is. But he can’t be doing all that without rhyme or reason. Colouring every interaction has to be that one-zero binary of ally or enemy. He needs to have somebody he’s proving himself to: a team he’s on and a team he’s against. He’s not an inherently rebellious character. He can go up against The Enemy, whoever he deems as such, but it has to be in service of a hypothetical future in which somebody eventually tells him he did a great job.

And in the interest of continuing to beat a dead horse, it connects to their respective upbringings. Thad and Bart were both raised in VR, but Bart’s experience had the side effect of basically hard-wiring him against insecurity. His world was a playground tailor-made for him, and he was never made to feel bad or insufficient about any aspect of himself. His first interaction with a real human person was Iris moving heaven and earth to save him, without him knowing her, without her knowing him, with no reasoning for the act needed beyond Being Her Grandson. Which is probably a significant factor in why Bart moves through the world with frankly atomic levels of autistic swag.

Thad’s VR upbringing installed self-consciousness in his psyche before any other personality trait. As in: he is immediately made conscious of himself and his relationship with everyone he will ever encounter. He’s told two things: he’s a clone of someone else (inherently derivative, lesser) and that he was made to be superior (a status to achieve). Which is such an instant clarifier for Thad’s everything. Where superiority is a condition that everyone either has, or does not. It’s the one-zero binary again: are they better than me or am I better than them. Being above others is mandatory, and if his superiority is ever challenged by hard evidence or god forbid nuance Thad’s brain physically cannot take it. He needs to be better, to be worse is unthinkable, and there is no other way to be.

And this status of better or worse is, crucially, not up to Thad to decide. He needs The Authority to validate him. Bart never tries to prove himself because he has nothing to prove. Thad’s entire identity hinges on the self-worth he gets from doing a Good Job.

It is such an inherent part of his motives in the Impulse comics canon, which is why it always feels a little off when he’s interpreted as a jackass indiscriminately.

Like I don't think he needs everyone to like him. But I do think he has either one person or a set of very particular people that he needs to like him. Everyone else is either in that circle or outside of it.

(Which is why Bart is such a great foil for Thad tbh. There is no set of words or behaviors that’ll change Bart’s opinion of Thad, because Bart is unaffected by obedience or charm. So ironically Bart is probably one of few people that Thad doesn’t bother to put on even a little bit of an act for.)

While Bart goes with his instincts, his personal beliefs and convictions at all times, Thad is hyper-conscious of big-picture goals. They balance each other out that way. Thad's keeping track of whatever expectations he has placed on him, and how his actions reflect on him and the team beyond short-sighted solutions. He's a team player. AND he's an asshole.

[himbodruid]

In celebration of the Sylus banner releasing, here’s the first part to my Sylus fic!

Sylus x named!mc | Touch her and 💀 vibes | Possessive Sylus

Intended for 18+ readers, MINORS DNI

Read on Ao3

Part 2 | Part 3 (coming soon)

A Kitten and A Crow

His irritation was nearly palpable as negotiations dragged on and on. Sylus let his crimson gaze flick around the men sitting at the table around him, trying to bargain for their safety in his territory while they do some bogus business deal. Really, the whole thing was boring, and that itself is what irritated him the most.

His phone began to buzz in his pocket, which brought a welcomed distraction. A slight smirk played at the corner of his mouth as the name ‘kitten’ flashed across the screen as the incoming call. She always seemed to know when he was bored.

“Gentlemen, I am afraid we will have to continue these negotiations another time,” was all the explanation he gave before rising and walking from the table. He reached the other room, thumbing the answer button and holding the phone to his ear. Before he could even greet her, a scuffle sounded and the call disconnected.

“Mephisto,” was all he had to say before the crow flew through the window with a croaking call in the night. He tapped her name in the call log to dial her phone, pushing down the anxiety that threatened to crack the iron hold he had on his composure.

“Kitten?” He questioned when the call connected.

“S-Sy,” came her labored breathing. A pained whine escaped from her and he growled.

“Where are you?” His query came as a sharp demand, grateful that he had already sent Mephisto to find her.

“Sylus, d-don’t-“ her words ended in a cry as the sharp crack of flesh connecting with flesh came across the line. Rage pulsed through Sylus at the sound of a struggle, the phone being kicked away, before the line went dead.

The deep crimson-streaked shadows shrouded him without a second thought, transporting him to the rooftops for some sort of vantage point. He couldn’t feel her aether core anymore, the ever present hum that had become a source of comfort, but he somehow knew she was still within the N109 Zone. Within his territory.

There. A signal from Mephisto and the copper stench of fresh blood flooded his senses as he followed the crow’s direction in his signature shadowy cloak.

He arrived in the alleyway that Mephisto hovered over, mere blocks away from his own base. A man held her limp form by the throat, gloating to her unconscious figure.

“Once we get that Onychinus bastard out here, he’s done for!” Maniacal laughter followed his statement as he tossed her haphazardly to the side.

“Ah. So, you intended for a trap, then,” Sylus said with a deadly calm, dropping into the mouth of the alleyway from the cloud of darkness.

“Hah! It’s true! The hunter is your weakness after all,” said the man as he turned his wild gaze on the newcomer. Sylus didn’t recognize him, but figured the idiot must be from an opposing faction.

“Do you know what happens when you touch what is mine,” he said with a voice full of venom, striding into the alley. But the man only grinned, lifting a pistol to aim at Sylus. A threat that Sylus pointedly ignored as he continued forward.

Mephisto landed next to Helene, giving his observation. Bruised and battered, and a deep gash in her side that was cause for concern. She was alive, but didn’t have the luxury of time.

“Lets end this quickly,” Sylus said, disappearing into that crimson darkness and reappearing right before the man.

“Your evol is useless against me, crow,” the man cackled, aiming the pistol right for Sylus’ head. “I’ve been given a glorious chance to take down the biggest threat to our company. These bullets have been specially manufactured with your evol in mind.”

The man pulled the trigger, fully trusting that his employers had told him correct information. What they didn’t tell him, however, is the ethereal speed at with Sylus could use his evol. The bullet ripped through empty air while Sylus rematerialized behind him.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” he growled into the man’s ear before an onyx blade appeared in his hand. His arm thrust forward. A strangled gurgle was the final sound the man made as Sylus plunged that blade into his heart from behind. He twisted it for good measure, lamenting that he couldn’t do what he really wanted to.

Sylus dropped to a knee by Helene’s side before the stranger’s corpse even hit the pavement. He brushed her blood-streaked hair from her frighteningly pale face before lifting her in his arms. It still amazed him how light she was, considering how much she ate at any given meal.

A vehicle pulled into the mouth of the alley, giving Sylus a brief pause before he realized it was his own car and the twins sat in the front.

Luke hopped out from the passenger seat and opened the door for him, Sylus carrying her frighteningly limp form forward. A hand reached out to help steady her as he shuffled into the back, but he felt a growl rumble in his chest and he clutched her tighter to himself. Luke backed off without a word, hands held up to placate the boss.

It had only taken minutes to find her, but each second that had ticked by since the call first disconnected felt like a lifetime.

[perfectly-m1saligned]

(Late) K!nktober day 8

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 8: gun play; dirty talk. You can find all my stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Stalker!Simon)

cw: gunplay, dubcon (?), unprotected piv, creampie

word count: 2400

a/n: I'm very sorry for this delay, but you're getting double fed tonight!!

The music was deafening, the lights painting your body in different coloured hues, making the people around you look like they were in a stop-motion movie, making you dizzy if you looked too hard. Halloween, the night of the witches, night of the dead, whatever; to you, and your friend who was walking next to you, was the night of the sluts, which meant belt-sized skirts and the tiniest tank tops ever.

Dumping Jackson a week before Halloween was like a godsend. It stung deep in your pride, seeing him fuck that blonde bimbo in the bathtub at your friend Jessica’s party. It didn’t exactly hurt because you loved him or anything, it just infuriated you how he’d had the audacity to disrespect you like this. You mourned the loss for all of two hours after coming home from the party, then the pain was gone.

“y/n, I’m going to grab us a couple of shots at the bar!” Helen said over the loud thumping music, stretching herself up on her tippy toes despite wearing those safety hazards that she called ‘shoes’. You nodded, watching her disappear in a blink of an eye in the sea of people that littered the dance floor. You took your phone out, groaning at the sight of Jackson’s messages piling, along with phone calls. Apparently, fucking that girl had been a “terrible mistake” and he was “piss drunk”, but sober enough to get his dick hard and stick it in another girl’s cunt somehow.

Since Helen was taking too much time getting your drinks, most likely due to the monstrosity of a queue that lined the bar, you decided to go wait with her since you had nothing better to do. When you finally spotted her, two hot guys dressed as jacked angel and devil were talking to her. She met your gaze, and winked, making you smirk. The guys seemed nice, and you all took shots together, until a pleasant buzz filled your head, and the cute devil had to support you by wrapping his arm around your waist.

“You girls want to go to VIP?” He said, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, his captivating green eyes peering down at you, his lips curled in a sexy little smirk. You were more than looking forward to spending the night with him, since Helen had his friend’s tongue already halfway down her throat, his hand cupping her ass from under her miniskirt. “Gotta hit the loo first.” You said, unfortunately feeling the weight of the booze aggravating on your bladder. When you turned to head to the restroom, you didn’t notice the black-clad figure on the other side of the room starting to walk as soon as you did.

Poor, silly, y/n, you thought he hadn’t followed you here? It was Halloween, after all, one of the most dangerous nights of the year, he had to look out for you. Plus, those guys totally weren’t your type, he was far better. He was the only right guy for you. You simply didn’t know yet.

The queue to the restroom was surprisingly short, since there were only two stalls, and in your alcohol-induced haze, you forgot to properly lock the door behind you. Strike three. He’d pinned you for a smart girl, but God, you could be so damn naive. Strike one: talking to that guy. Strike two: not locking the door behind you. Strike three: letting him get to you.

You were washing your hands, eyes looking down as you heard the faint sound of the creaky hinges move.

“Oi, it’s-” you froze, the water still running over your hands. He simply stood there, looking at you. The hood of his black hoodie was up, casting shadows over his face, hiding his features from you in the already dimly-lit space. Your heart started to hammer, threatening to slip out of the frail confines of your ribcage. Jackson? He wasn’t nearly as tall, or his shoulders as broad, but perhaps it was the sheer fear coursing through your veins right now that made him look bigger.

“J-Jackson? What are you doing here? I told you to leave me alone-” The man tsked, seemingly amused by your squeaky, feeble voice. “I’m no Jackson, bunny.” He replied, his baritone voice sending a chill down your bloodstream, making you shiver. “You know, y/n, I never liked him. You truly should look over your taste in men, because as of now, it’s shit.” You were utterly dumbfounded, the water still running behind you as you slowly turned around to face him. His imposing figure crowded the small space, looming over you.

“Who are you?” You asked, your voice shaky, barely above a whisper. You tried to look past him, but there was no way you could’ve escaped him, since he had most likely locked the door, like you should’ve done when you came in here. He took a step forward, some light exposing a razor-sharp jawline, covered in light stubble. “Who am I” He echoed, almost mocking. “I’m the only man who cares about you, y/n.”

When he removed his hood, your heart dropped to your ass. Simon. Simon Riley. He lived right across your apartment, on the other side of the corridor. Suddenly, although your cognitive processes were currently running a little slower than usual, the pieces started to come together. How he was coincidentally going downstairs to throw out the trash when you came up with groceries, and you always accepted his kind offer to help you unload them. Why sometimes you felt like someone was watching you, waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, and you thought you heard your front door close, but always thought it was a dream.

“S-Simon?” You stuttered, bewildered. You took a step back, but the cold sink pressed into your lower back, faint splashes of water hitting your bare skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, bunny,” he murmured, taking another step towards you, the sole of his combat boots making a squelching noise on the sticky floor. “I always had to see you with that son a bitch Jackson, I knew he wasn’t a good guy. He didn’t deserve you. I wasn’t surprised to learn he cheated on you.” How did he know? You had only talked about it on the phone, at home, alone- “Yes, y/n, I have cameras installed in your house,” he scoffed, reading your thoughts. He said it as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. “How else am I supposed to protect you, hm? Make sure you’re safe?”

Your chest was heaving, the sheer panic you were feeling not allowing you to move from your spot, slightly shaking. “Plus, I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world,” he began, taking another step forward. He stood inches away from you now, raising a gloved finger to your finger, running it over your jaw before hooking it under your chin, forcing you to tilt your chin, your eyes meeting his chocolate brown ones. “When you’ve drunk a couple glasses of wine, and you sit on the couch, your pretty little hand travelling between your thighs-” he scoffed. “Because, let’s face it, that guy couldn’t even give you a proper orgasm, y/n. What a sad excuse of a man he was, unable to please his woman?”

His finger wandered south, making you gasp as he stopped right between your heaving breasts. “Are you…going to hurt me?” You asked, gazing up at him through thick, black lashes. He cooed. “I would never, my sweet little bunny,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling the fold of your ear, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin. “No one could treat you as good as I would, but it seems like you need a little bit more convincing.” You suddenly felt something cold tracing the inside of your thighs, making you whimper as it trailed up your flushed flesh. “Because apparently, you prefer to go with some fucking jerks who only want to use you for your body, y/n. And it makes me so. Fucking. Mad.” You stilled, realising he had a gun.

“S-Simon, no…please…” you cried out softly, already feeling the hot tears brimming your eyes. “Shh, shh,” he shushed you quietly, pressing a few butterfly kisses on your jawline. “I’d never hurt you, didn’t I just tell you that? Although…” his voice took on a menacing tone. “I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through that guy’s skull if you so let him put a hand on you again.” The top of the barrel made contact with your clothed core, feeling the steel barrel slide right between your folds. You shouldn’t have liked it, but the friction combined with your intoxicated state elicited a soft moan to slip past your lips.

“That’s it, such a good little slut,” Simon chuckled, biting into the rosy flesh of your neck. He immediately chased away the sting, running his flat tongue over the red mark left by his teeth. “You’re a twisted little thing, aren’t you? Getting wet on my gun, tch.” He mocked, a wolfish grin on his lips. “N-No, I…” He cut you off. “I know how much you had to hold yourself back with Jackson, he fucked you with no passion, and you let him treat you like a sex doll, bunny. He couldn’t give you what you really needed, but I can.” Another gasp ripped from your chest, feeling him move the flimsy fabric of your panties on one side with the gun, the cold steel collecting some of your arousal from your weeping cunt.

His other hand crept under your top, cupping one of your breasts, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, coaxing another sweet moan out of your lips. He finally closed the distance between you, bewitching you with a feverish kiss, his tongue immediately seeking out yours, tangling with it in a dizzying dance. He kneaded the plump flesh of your breast in his hand, the other guiding the barrel between your slick folds, teasing your entrance, and a growl rumbled in his throat as he felt his cock pulsating painfully in his jeans. You were responding so well to him, perhaps not in the right state of mind to actually understand what was going on.

He had started to become obsessed with you from the moment he saw you, when he moved into your building. Your sweet laugh, that cute smile that you should’ve reserved for him, and him only. You were perfect, yet you failed to see it, selling yourself short for pathetic boys like Jackson and that guy out there, who was probably wondering where you had gone. You were exactly where you belonged, with him. He could treat you better than anyone else; besides, he knew you so well, he knew everything about you. No one would love you like he did.

You had started to grind your hips over the barrel of the gun, chasing the heat that was coiling up in your stomach, the delicious friction against your clit bringing you closer to my release. Then you suddenly felt empty, and you groaned, frustrated, shooting him a glare. “W-Why did you…?” You gasped, feeling him trace the cold steel up your body, pushing it between your lips. “Take off my pants, y/n, I need to feel that sweet pussy around my cock.” You could taste yourself on the weapon, the tangy hint of your juices mixing with the feeling of the metal.

Inhaling a shaky breath through your nose, you started to fumble with the buckle of his belt, unable to see what you were doing, with your mouth full. “Faster.” Simon ordered, pushing the gun down your mouth, your throat clenching and making you gag slightly. You finally managed to get his jeans open, and pulled them down along with his boxer briefs, feeling his fat cock springing free, hitting your stomach. Simon’s hand left your chest, spitting down on his palm and then stroking his dick with it to avoid any discomfort. “Turn around, bunny.” He said, taking the gun out of your mouth.

You did as he said, meeting your reflection in the fogged mirror, his imposing frame looming behind you, and you shivered when you felt him pull his weapon to your head, the rush making your arousal leak down your legs. “You’re such a filthy whore, y/n. Say it,” He growled, lining the head of his cock with your weeping entrance, keeping the string of your thong to the side with his thumb. “Say you’re a filthy whore.” In one long thrust, he bottomed out inside of you, making you cry out, your gummy walls enveloping his shaft as he speared you open.

“I…I’m a- ah…f-filthy whore!” You whimpered, your hands curling around the cool ceramic of the sink, feeling it press onto your lower abdomen as Simon used the gun to bend you over. “Yes you are,” he cooed. “Fucking hell, bunny, you’re so soaked you’re going to drown me, baby.” His hips started to thrust into you at a punishing pace, your forehead pressing against the mirror, your hand slipping, closing the tap as you were pushed forward. “See, bunny, no one can fuck you like I do. Can you feel me inside of you? Fuck, look how bad your little pussy needs me, such a greedy little thing, needing to be filled.”

Your moans filled the grubby stall, the obscene sounds of his dick slamming into your cunt mixing with the noises of skin against skin. The heat was coiling back up quickly in your belly, Simon’s cock throbbing against your walls, meaning he was close as well. “I’m going to fill you up, and then you’re going to walk back with my cum leaking from this filthy cunt, yeah? You’re gonna go back to your friend Helen, saying that you got the best dick of your life.”

His words were muffled nonsense in your head now, your orgasm mounting quickly, until it crashed onto you like a truck. You clenched tight around him as you came, your squirt splashing on his lower abdomen. An animalistic grunt rumbled in Simon’s chest, thick white ropes of cum shooting inside you, filling you to the brim. You were left breathless, dazed and confused, feeling Simon’s seed flowing down your legs.

“I’ll see you at home, bunny. You’re mine now.” Simon whispered, leaving a chaste kiss against your temple, before he disappeared into thin air.

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 16

Part 15

The next day, Steve was probably the clingiest he'd ever been. He thought his heat had ended but the new pack bonds brought on a new crest of lust. For the first time since he had arrived, he ate breakfast with everyone in the kitchen. After the meal, Steve made himself comfortable in Eddie's lap.

Eddie and Jeff were talking about concepts for the next album. Gareth was nursing his coffee, still waking up. Grant got up to refill his own mug and Steve's eyes followed him like a hawk. Eddie was pretty attuned to Steve's wants and needs. And when he felt Steve's fingers brush against his lips while staring at the unaware beta across the room, he had a pretty good idea of what his baby wanted.

"Remember sweetness, you gotta use your words. The boys don't know all your tells yet."

Steve whimpered and whined at first, but not longer after he was purring as Grant ate him out on the counter.

Soon enough though, it was time for Corroded Coffin to return to the public eye. And almost just as quickly, the fans with a keen eye noticed a certain omega showing up much more. Not just on Eddie's arm but the rest of the band's as well.

The more it was seen, the more permanent Steve's position appeared. It was February when the competing hashtags #ccomega and #notouromega showed up. Of course, the overwhelming majority of the fans were in the camp of 'neither one is gonna fuck you, so stop wasting your time arguing about it'.

Eddie was reading through a couple of argument threads, snickering to himself when Steve stepped out of the dressing room.

"What about this one?"

The outfit consisted of tight leather pants, a blazer, and a mesh shirt under that. Eddie's hands fell to the magnetic force that was Steve's nipples and started playing with them through the shirt. He let that be his answer and the online comment wars were forgotten for a moment. The new outfit was for an award show the band was attending and throughout the whole thing, Steve ignored his own reserved seat and stayed planted in Eddie's lap.

Given that it was an award show, many eyes were on it, even those not typically concerned with celebrity gossip. When it started spreading to such a degree, even THEY couldn't ignore it. Helen Harrington should have known something was up the moment Irene got that nasty look in her eyes, taking a sip of her champagne flute before speaking.

"Of course, we can't all have such famous children. Steve has been in so many magazines these days. I think the last one actually caught him with his pants down", Irene laughed haughtily.

Helen's face was tight with control. "You're such a charmer Irene. Not most people would admit to reading such tabloid trash."

It was reaching their circle of colleagues, which meant something must be done about their son. She and her husband Richard discussed as much. Steve couldn't be allowed to drag their name through the mud like this anymore.

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

Steve had basically taken up residence in the band's house. He slept in Eddie's room, which was now functionally his as well. Every morning he woke up with their scents mingled and it made his omega purr with satisfaction. He liked whenever the rest of his pack's scents lingered on his body too. Every time he went out, people knew who he belonged to, even without a bite.

But the thought of getting a mating bite did intrigue him.

He wasn't sure how to bring it up though. They'd already taken a major step in their relationship. Asking to be mated forever seemed like asking too much too soon. But relaxing in the living room, warming his alpha's cock with his mouth while daytime television played on sounded perfect.

And everyday with Steve was perfect in Eddie's opinion. Valentine's Day needed to be more perfect. He had a hunch why Steve was spending February 13th with Jeff and Gareth. It didn't make him any less crabby about it though and unfortunately Grant was left to deal with his crabby ass. He was even crabbier when he realized Steve had awakened much earlier the next day and that Eddie wouldn't be seeing him until evening.

CC had a radio interview and Steve was off doing who knew what. Eddie had half a mind to send him relentless thirst texts but instead just made sure he remembered they had reservations at a private restaurant. Eddie sent a car to get Steve and by 8 they had both arrived. Eddie was practically drooling at the silk shirt Steve was wearing.

And the thrill of later events got to him as he put a hand to Steve's back and felt something lacy underneath the shirt.

"You got a surprise for me, baby?"

Steve's smile was coy. "Maybe. Maybe I did a little shopping and I needed a couple of extra eyes to make sure it looked right."

Well that explained why the other two tagged along. And Eddie was only a little jealous that they got to see his present early. Only a little. Steve was pressed to his side for the entire dinner, feeding each other and feeling his surprise just under the silk.

"Baby, I don't think I can wait any longer", Eddie murmured against his ear.

"I can't either", Steve whispered back, legs rubbing together.

There was no way they were making it back home. Steve needed Eddie inside him now and he let him know that by letting out quiet whimpers directly into his ear. Eddie bit his lip, getting a naughty thought in his head.

"I've got an idea...if you're into it."

Steve was definitely into any ideas he had and soon the bill was paid and they were rushing back to the car Eddie had driven here. Eddie started driving with one hand, then other cupped Steve between the legs. It didn't take long for Eddie to find what they needed.

A 24 hour car wash.

They both climbed into the backseat as soon as the car was set on the track. Steve sunk down on Eddie's cock and rode him without an ounce of shame, letting his voice ring out among the noises of the brushes and soap and water. Eddie knew he must have hearts in his eyes, watching this beautiful creature, shirt falling open to reveal the dark green lingerie underneath.

When they came, they only had a few moments to make themselves decent as the car started to exit the wash. Steve didn't even try, just lying in the backseat with his pants off while Eddie scrambled back to the front. With very little regard for much else, Eddie peeled out of the parking area to preserve Steve's modesty.

Meanwhile, Steve had few qualms about having his cunt out in the backseat. This time of night, it was dark besides a few streetlamps. he reached down to feel his own wetness mingling with Eddie's cum. Eddie wasn't playing any music, so the sound of Steve's pussy sounded like it was echoing in the car. This man would be the death of him.

The rest of the night was spent in romantic bliss, just the two of them. But Steve had already given the rest of his pack chocolates.

The next morning, Steve's dream of a domestic life with Eddie was interrupted by his phone ringing. Eddie groaned at the intrusion and Steve reached out to grab it and see who was calling him. The number had no name attached, but he knew it by heart. He'd known the number since he was young but it had been years since he'd called it. Or since it had called him.

He ignored the call to stop the ringing and cuddled back up to his alpha. Eddie was all who mattered right now. Not them. He ignored the call that came a couple of hours later, and the few that came the next day as well. He didn't even listen to the voicemails left for him. Whatever they had to say, couldn't be anything good.

It was two weeks later when he got his first piece of mail since he started living here and who else could it be from but his parents. He leaned against the fridge as he opened it, finally curious enough to find out what they wanted.

"So what'd they send you?", Eddie asked before spooning some cereal into his mouth.

For a moment, Steve simply stood there, mouth agape as he read the envelope's contents.

"Sweetheart?"

"My parents.... sent me a cease and desist letter."

Part 17 (final)

Tag Team CLOSED

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[literallyjustforlurking]

The Princesses of Sparta

In the Odessy Penelope is the princess of Sparta and has two sisters, Clytemnestra and Helen. We've all heard of Helen of Troy/Helen of Sparta from the Trojan war, most beatiful woman alive, the face that launched a thousand ships who married Menelaus and Clytemnestra married Agamemnon, who insulted Artemis and then killed their daughter in order to get good winds.

Now where am I going with this? While I feel like P!Percy deserves their sisters back.

Now who should be the sisters?

Helen compilcates things, becuase at first I wanted to say Piper but (even though I am a Valgrace shipper, espically with what we have going on with Epic!Calypso) it feels weird to have Jason dating his aunt. Which means while I think it would be cool for Reyna to be a princess (and I don't think that he and Reyna were dating before the Lost Hero?) I can't do that. (Did make another post on who Reyna and Hylla are, here.)

So who would make good princess

Rachel is Helen and Thalia is Clytemnestra.

Thalia is dealing with the fact that her little brother is her little sister's and her cousins son. Also her little sister used to be a man. And her little sister is her brother-in-law. And her cousin is her sister. And her little brother is her nephew. Thalia has given up on ever understanding her family tree now if children can just pop out nowhere with parents a year older than them.

This would complicate relationships even more but at least Jason's not kissing his aunt.

And that way Penelope's sister (Thalia) gets together with one of Penelope's spartan handmaidens (Reyna).

And since Rachel is the oracle she can't be controlled by Aphrodite's magic the same way Helen was with Paris (I always read her story as a forced abduction or at least Aphrodite using some sort of love magic on her) and that's how Apollo finds out about the reicarnations.

Also it's my personal headcannon that when Rachel gets visions of the future she also gets a vision of the persons past if they've been reincarnated.

And since Thalia joined the hunt she can't be forced into a marriage with a horrible man who will kill her daughter.

This also complicates the relationships between H!Rachel, C!Thalia and P!Percy all of whom are now siblings.

I also personally think the because he dissapeared for twenty years and left Penelope alone to fend off suitors and run a kingdom Helen and Clytemnestra don't really like Odysseus which would add even more layers to Thalia and Annabeth's relationship.

(Plus Rachel has red hair and Helen in most documents also has red or copper hair, I know that the physical stuff doesn't really matter for reincarnation but I still thought it was cool!)

Not entirely sure how the reveals are gonna happen for C!Thalia and H!Rachel, but I think Rachel's will happen pretty soon after Percy meets her, while Thalia's will happen either directly after O!Annabeth falls off the cliff or during their quest after Bianca dies and it reminds C!Thalia to much of the death of her daughter. Another inoccent woman sacrificed to soothe the wrath of a god.

Just realized Clytemnestra and Helen are half sisters and Penelope is their cousin but whatever it still counts

[irreplaceable-ecstasyy]

Act 2

WELCOME TO PART 2!!!! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PART 1, YOU CAN FIND IT RIGHT HERE!

LETTERS

- Opening instrumental! Letters start falling from the ceiling! One landed right next to me so I actually have a letter?!?!

- It was like an open mic karaoke. There is a mic at centre stage. For the soloists, Natasha, Pierre, Mary & Anatole, they would go up to the mic & sing during their bit.

- I didn't realize how individual & staggered the 'ha ha has' were for backing vocals. The ensemble's voice is so powerful, and like it just pushed the intensity of the song, and I was just so captivated by the sound of the backing.

- Such a side note but the backing vocals of Letters is my favorite out of the entirety of Comet because of its complex simplicity.

- "Dolokhov is recovering." This man flashes us with his fishnets and we were like YEAHHH WERKKKK!!!!!

- Each character is holding a copy of the letter throughout, like they're inspecting the content then holding it out in some little letter choreo. & the majority of them are stood on the balcony watching the main trio below singing their bit in the first half of the song.

- But they're all down by the time the trio finish their trio harmony bit & Anatole steals the spotlight!

- "NATALIE, NATALIE, NATALIE!!!" Natasha is gushing & squealing so much throughout this whole section, she's so cute honestly!!!

- And Jamie's vocals. Need I say more??

- "I write the answer to Princess Mary/ I've been unable to write all morning." Mary is walking across the balcony, opening the letter, and she starts off smiling. Knowing what was coming next, I was absolutely shattered.

- As Natasha sings the contents of the letter, we can see Mary reacting to it. Her face falls and everything, then she runs off clutching the letter.

- Love that the cast pick up the letters to clean the stage as the scene is going on, but they're fixed on the task, like nothing will deter them until they've collected every damn letter.

~

SONYA & NATASHA

- Sonya looks more angry than saddened by this whole ordeal as she reads the letter.

- "Would you think so badly of me?" SASS SASS and SASS. Natasha turns away from Sonya and flips her hair at her, then bats her eyelashes while looking over her shoulder at her.

- Natasha is just kinda done with Sonya here since she's got Anatole which was really sad :( I can't believe you Natasha.

~

- Beautiful, heartbreaking, soul-crushing, awe inspiring. Need I say more????

SONYA ALONE

- I cried as soon as the opening chords played.

- Maimuna, the singer that you are, you gorgeous beautiful performer. I have not heard a voice like hers. The sheer power of it? You have to hear it live.

- The tears, the raw emotion!!! She was shedding tears!!!!! I done cried. I couldn't hold it in.

~

PREPARATIONS

- Give me some time to cry after Sonya Alone gEEZ.

- Opening instrumental, Anatole is sat on a box, Dolokhov and Helene are wheeling him in. I love this trio. They're so dramatic.

- Pierre is drinking. Are we surprised?

- "Ah, Anatole, where are you off to?" Dolokhov and Hélène duck behind the box, spooning almost, to hide from Pierre's eyeshot. They're sort of giggling, trying not to roll about and move too much.

- Dolokhov is out here doing all the work. Like, good for you, sir. What a king.

- I heard a sniff and turned. Why the fuck is Hélène doing coke? And then offers some to Dolokhov while Anatole is off singing about how this will all be a good ol' successful plan!! (Spoiler: It won't)

- Hélène looks so tired in this song, like she's long been done but also happy for Anatole since she's also helped with the plan. Girl had a big stack of cash to give Anatole but like, she was so done.

~

BALAGA

- "BALAGA IS HEREEEE." OH MY HOT DAMN. Balaga comes strutting down the aisle on our left in the most exquisite leather fit, and coat and oh my god - HE WAS JUST WOW- POWER WALK, POWER STRUT WERK IT

- This was like a lil Burlesque number with the feathered fans and the dancers. They're out here being dragged around on the box with Balaga while the ensemble is just going ham with these feathered fans.

- Holy shit. Full belt?!?!?!?!?!? Possibly the most incredible number in the show.

- Balaga?!?!?! HOLY FUCKING SHIT. MR TENOR SIR WHAT.

- HE HAS HAS THIS LITTLE BIT DURING "Jumped my troika right into the air!" TO RIFF HIS HEART OUT. INCREDIBLE. AND THE BAND GIVE HIM HiS MOMENT!!!!!!

- OFC HE TAKES THE MOMENT FOR THE APPLAUSE BEFORE GOING BACK WITH, "And I never ask for rubles!"

- Anatole's "WOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH." gave me goosebumps down to my soul.

~

THE ABDUCTION

- Before I begin, they did the off bway version of this. And i actually didn't realize it until i was on my way back, listening to the Abduction on Spotify, remembering every detail until it got to Pierre's "here's to happiness, freedom & life."

- My bestie & I could not stop bopping our heads to it. How could you not? It's the best song in the show. (I say that for like every song.)

- "Goodbye, Matryoshka. Kiss me one last time." HE EXTENDS HIS CHEEK TO SOMEONE IN THE AUDIENCE, ASSIGNING HER MATROYSHKA. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU REFUSED TO GIVE ANATOLE A KISS ON THE CHEEK????

- The audience went "aawwwwhhhhhhh :(((" when Anatole was rejected, and he pouted at the lady who just laughed.

"Remember me to, Stelshka." Dolokhov goes up to the guy beside 'Matryoshka' and pours him a shot, making him wait for a cue.

- They continue to sing as an ensemble and when they would sing of Matryoshka and Stelshka, they would point at them and cheer! SO CUTE.

- "NOW DRINK." The cast drink then look at Stelshka, pointing at him and he drinks it to which they all cheer!!!

- "WAAAAAIIIIIIiit. First we have to sit down." All of them just sit where they are, and Anatole takes the big box centre stage. Balaga sat on this old guy in the corner, and everyone just kept giggling.

- Anatole waiting til the giggling stopped. It did not continue literally until the giggling stopped and it was fully quiet.

- "WHEN THEY REACH THE GATE, DOLOKHOV WHISTLES." HE FUCKING WHISTLES SO LOUDLY, INSANE.

- Anatole climbs up the pole in an attempt to get up to the balcony but of course, the most iconic part.

- "You will not enter my house, scoundrel!!" WHY THE FUCK DOES MARYA HAVE A FUCKING DOUBLE-BARREL SHOTGUN????

- Have I mentioned that I love Marya D.????

- "BETRAYED. BETRAYED." Dolokhov and Anatole are scrambling for their lives. I would too if Marya pulled a shotgun on me. I have no doubts that woman will shoot.

- My memory is failing me but I believe that this is during the transition between this and In My House but the Soldier & the Bride appear again, just walking from the left aisle and through Natasha. The symBOLISM!!

- Natasha literally splits them in the middle as they walk past her, showing her that it is her own fault that the union has been broken, and she looks so hurt when she realizes the severity of the situation.

~

IN MY HOUSE

- Natasha is literally screaming as Sonya holds her back, but Natasha is trying so hard to reach for Anatole who's running away.

- Annette's Marya is so much more patient that Grace's Marya. It was "I'm not angry, just disappointed." But lawd, she is a momma on a mission.

- Sonya, stop making me cry gurl :,,((((((( She really trying her best to help Natasha here and save her so so desperately.

- Sonya literally tucks Natasha in when she shuts everyone out, but Natasha won't speak to anyone at all. :((

~

A CALL TO PIERRE

- The audience member next to me mouthing each "whaaaattt?" was the funniest thing ever.

- Truly, the only bit there is to tell is the "whaaaaaat?" they were so well delivered. so deadpan, so tired, but equally becoming more and more invested.

~

FIND ANATOLE

- This man is on a mission. He's hustling around Moscow, and I love that they use lighting to show us where he's at.

- He goes upstage right for the club, and only that corner is lit up in the colors of the club which were purple and green from the Duel.

- God, I love tech.

- "NATASHA, nATASHA." I have never seen Anatole more frenzied in my life. He looks a mess as he's clambering around stage for Natasha before Hélène comes swooping in to comfort him.

- I needa say, Hélène's robe in this was the most exquisite thing I've ever seen." It's the flowy sort, transparent, fluffy at the ends. I love it.

- "Be quiet, I will not greet you.." At this, Hélène laughs and she leaves the scene. She can't even defend Anatole from him anymore so she gives up on this fight, let's Pierre have at Anatole which is so sad honestly.

~

PIERRE & ANATOLE

- Right off the bat, so much fear in Anatole. This is probably the most self-aware he's ever been.

- I wonder why they didn't brawl at "seize you by the collar with my big big hands." They only did at "When I tell you I must talk to you" -

- Anatole squeaking and squealing as he's being flung around, poor guy but also like, man, don't do what you do.

- "hAVE YOU ANY LETTERS OF HERS??" Anatole whips out a stack of pink letters that look so glittery, all written by Natasha. Girlie got some style with those letters.

- When Natasha takes the arsenic, it's very quietly. You kinda needa catch it since it's in the corner of the stage, and your eyeline would kinda be like "should i look at pierre & anatole, or natasha?"

- the bride & soldier are holding the arsenic and water for her. which is crazy. (edit!!!)

- "And if you require money for your journey." It's presented to Anatole like it's a choice. To stay here for Natasha or leave for Petersburg.

- during this, natasha is lowered to the floor slowly with the big teddy bear, where she just rests throughout the rest of the song.

- There's a pause as he evaluates. He literally glances at Natasha who is asleep on the floor with the big teddy then at Pierre holding the money before smiling as he takes the money.

- "FOR PETERSBUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRGGGGGGGGG"

- After the most delicious note of 1812, Anatole literally drops the 'flower' (which was just a bracelet) that he'd taken from Natasha during 'Natasha & Anatole', by her unconscious body on the floor before strutting off.

- I kinda wish there was that bit from the Bway version where we see Hélène mourning Anatole's absence. But she doesn't even get to say goodbye to Anatole

~

NATASHA VERY ILL

- This was so haunting. Sonya appears on the balcony and sings to the audience. There's no life in her eyes as she delivers this, just so much pain and grief.

- "And Andrey is to return..." Andrey walks onto stage, and he's waiting.

~

PIERRE & ANDREY

- Pierre eventually arrives at the scene to meet Andrey.

- They stare at each other for a good while, like in disbelief, as they poke fun at each other. Then they have the sweetest embrace.

- "Here are her letters.." When Andrey gives his letters to Pierre from Natasha, they're also very pink and very glittery, all tied up with a ribbon.

- This song never used to stick out to me (tho, I'd still never skip) but seeing this live, it was so raw. The emotion and the depth in it. Andrey literally came back to the war to find out that he isn't betrothed anymore, like - You can see the exhaustion in his eyes.

- Pierre equally looking so torn because this is his best friend, and he's acquainted with the Rostovs, so he doesn't know where to stand.

- "Then he smiled like his father/ Coldly, maliciously." It didn't feel like he'd smiled our of cruelty, but more in the way he didn't know how to react properly, that all he can do is just smile it off in disbelief and anger. THE LAYERS.

- "If you wish to be my friend, never speak of that again." Andrey waits for a response, and Pierre gives the smallest nod. And Andrey just bids him goodbye.

- There was nothing bitter in his farewell, but just heartbreak that is so well portrayed. Like, the way Pierre & Andrey portray this old friendship, trying to rekindle but equally stepping on all these eggshells, the actors play it so well, I'm just in awe.

- This is why I love Dave Malloy's musicals. There's so much written into them, you just have to find it as a performer, and as an audience.

~

PIERRE & NATASHA

- During the opening lines, Pierre made eye contact with me and just sang the whole verse at me while I'm just staring at him like :0 I've never held eye-contact with a person that long in my life. I'm glad it was with Declan Bennett.

- The simplicity of this song!!!! The broken chord of the piano!!!! SO MUCH RAWNESS, PURE THEATRE.

- Natasha was wearing the fluffiest bathrobe and the fuzziest shoes. I loved that for her so much.

- You can imagine how this scene goes. But they're just dancing around each other. They don't go near to each other, not until Pierre gives Natasha the letters.

- Then they sit by one another at "she began to cry..." He watches her go first before joining by her side very awkwardly.

- Then there were the only spoken words in Comet... "If I were not myself.."

- He speaks these words beside Natasha, not quite looking at her, and her back is facing him. It's such a vulnerable moment for the both of them.

- Pierre doesn't break the intensity of it as these words just come straight from his soul. Not a second thought, just truth. Even he looks surprised by his own words.

- Then Natasha finally looks at him, and she's smiling as she sings, "I weep tears of gratitude/ tears of thanks.."

- "And glancing at Pierre... Oh, Pierre." She stands and just gazes at Pierre with such admiration. The tenderness in this moment was enough to make me cry.

- "Outside, my great broad chest/ breathes in deep the air." As soon as we got to this line, I was crying my eyes out because I knew the show was about to end & it is going into the most beautiful song known to mankind.

~

THE GREAT COMET OF 1812

- As Pierre sings his solo bit, the rest of the cast walk onto stage from the aisles slowly, joining him as they gaze at the sky for the comet.

- Hélène walks by us & she looks at me with this firm gaze but there's something almost mournful about it. Like, I held my breath as she maintains that eye contact before looking away.

- And also, it's Hélène Kuragin, I love her.

- There really is nothing much to describe about the scene other than how much of a pleasure & a joy it was to listen to this live. The fullness of the harmonies, the simple staging of it and just the impact of gratitude I felt getting to see this show live.

- All I can say about this this song is that you just have to listen to it live.

~

BONUS: AFTER THE SHOW

- I was still crying so hard after bows, the guitarist noticed and was having a little giggle. when the play off finished, the guitarist had to ask if I was okay by giving me a thumbs up.

- Because it was New Year's Eve, we only got to meet an ensemble member (Andrew Berlin), Natasha (Chumisa Donford-May) and Mary (Chloe Saracco)! They were all so lovely!!

- We met Chumisa first. She came up to my bestie & I and asked if we were waiting, but we didn't want to hold her back so we asked her for a quick autograph.

- I kid you not, I whipped out my War & Peace (it's got comets on it), and she gasped. She said it was a lot of pressure signing it because she didn't want to ruin it!! What a sweetheart :,,)))

- I also told her that I was going to see her in Here We Are at the National Theatre in April, and she was so touched by it; she thanked me for going to see it. Bless her.

- Then next was Chloe!! (Who we later found out was a friend of a friend!) She was in a rush so we were speedy. We asked if she was okay to sign to which she accepted. Again, very surprised by my bigass copy of War & Peace. Loved it.

- Then we met Andrew!! He stuck around for quite a while to talk to us about the show!! He mentioned having seen the Bway production in NY and LOVED it, but was like "I thought to myself, I don't think I'd ever be in Comet. :(" And here he is!!!!!

- We saw Sonya (Maimuna) on the other side of the entrance but she was going a different direction and we didn't want to hold her back. Andrew started gushing about her and it became massive Sonya appreciation hours.

- I asked him to sign my War & Peace, obviously, and he was so impressed. Apparently I'm the only person who's ever done that. Gotta thank my bestie for encouraging my antics.

- He loved the cover so much, he said he was going to treat himself to a copy to which I referred him to the exact bookshop I got it from.

- After so much chat, he let us go because he thought he was the one holding us back. We could've just kept yapping. So so so incredible.

And that's it for my Comet adventures. I'll def be coming off and on to edit this as I start to remember more for sure.

[bl00dy-pa1nt3r]

Hii!! can I get headcanons of what creepypasta characters would do if you cheated. Please and thank you, also love youuu. 💕

⊹ ࣪ ˖𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯₊ ⊹

|| Yess Ofcc!! Tysm for requesting!! I love you too wifeyy ‹𝟹 🧸ྀི I also have classes tomorrow so I’m trying to finish this before then 😭 ||

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ » 𝘓𝘪𝘶 𝘞𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘴 – 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 – 𝘛𝘪𝘤𝘤𝘪 𝘛𝘰𝘣𝘺

𝗰𝘄 » 𝘕𝘰𝘯𝘦 (?)

𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 » 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦

𝗡𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵 » 8-9

|| Reader does not know about them being Creepypasta serial killers ||

───────୨ৎ────────

Liu Woods ⪼

Normally, Liu isn’t one to freak out. But this just about made him do so. Coming home from a long day, and seeing another man in your twos bed was the LAST thing he’d expect out of you.

Headcanons ⪼

• Was in genuine shock, anger, and disappointment when he found out.

• He was really devastated about it as well.

• That night consisted of constant fighting, blaming, yelling, and honestly just bullshit excuses from you. Excuses that Liu definitely wasn’t buying.

• He had gotten you a gift that night, only for it to be thrown away. Along with your twos relationship. Sad, really.

• You two broke up that night after the argument. Liu went to Jeff’s, who surprisingly let him stay for a night or two. Jeff helped him calm down and get his mind off of it.

• A few days after the break up, Liu threw away all the pictures, gifts, etc. that were from the relationship. Wanting to forget about it as quick as possible.

• Asked you to delete any photos or posts of you two from the relationship, politely. If you declined, it probably wouldn’t end well.

• Liu hadn’t really told you about the whole Creepypasta serial killer thing, so he wouldn’t have to worry about the hassle of getting rid of you.

• Got over the breakup in about 3 months, wants to be on good terms, but doesn’t think it’ll go well anyways.

───────୨ৎ────────

Bloody Painter ⪼

Helen is not a person to take cheating lightly. In fact, he does not tolerate it by ANY means. He’s a very hard person to read, but you could tell his true emotions behind that stoic and emotionless mask of his.

Headcanons ⪼

• He was surprisingly ‘calm’ during this whole situation. Though it was clear he just wanted to scream at the you and the stranger.

• Just like any other occasion, he showed no emotion. But you could tell just how pissed and hurt he was by this.

• Managed to hold in his emotions while telling you and the stranger to get out. Pure disappointment and hurt was evident in his voice as it cracked slightly.

• Had burned all paintings he had made of you over the course of the relationship. Along with deleting photos and your number.

• Once you started to try to get in contact with him, he blocked your number. The amount of calls and texts he was getting started to annoy him.

• Demanded for his hoodies, shirts, etc. back. Immediately washing them as soon as he got them. Though, he did keep one with your scent still on it

• He bottled up his emotions for a long time. Until he just broke down in front of Puppeteer. Puppeteer let him vent for as long as he needed, he knew that Helen needed this.

• It took Helen a bit longer to get over the break up, as his trust issues built up more. But Puppeteer and Dina helped him through it.

• Got with Dina a month or so after he got over the break up, is still with her currently.

───────୨ৎ────────

Ticci Toby ⪼

Toby never thought that, that would happen, but there he was standing in the hallway. Catching you and the stranger in the bedroom. You only just noticed him when you heard him tic, pushing the stranger off you.

Headcanons ⪼

• Toby’s emotions got the best of him. He was pissed, but mostly hurt at the same time. He basically screamed at the stranger to get out.

• Once you two were alone, you two argued, you mostly said excuses.

• After the break up, Toby went killing more than usual, needed to get his mind off things and to get his anger out.

• Sally helped distract him from it by playing tea party or dress up with him. Bloody Painter drew with Toby to distract him as well.

• Despite them helping him forget about it, he still was pretty bummed out about it. But eventually, over time, he got over the break up.

• He did the same as Helen and Liu, getting rid of photos, posts, etc. from the relationship.

• Washed the bedsheets and his clothes that you had worn in the past. He felt disgusted to even lay down in his own bed after catching what you had done with another man.

• Hasn’t gotten with another person since then. He’s still working on forgetting about it.

• Other creeps had helped him a lot, giving advice, helping him forget, or just helping in general. He’s healing really well, and has mostly forgotten about it.

───────୨ৎ────────

⋆⑅˚₊ ּ ֶָ֢. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ₊⊹‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆. ⋅˚₊‧⋆.˚˖°. . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ₊

[worriedvision]

Angsty alternative to Xiao's romance route (Potion Permit)

Gender neutral reader, reader is the chemist here. Sad ending BC when I was playing through Xiao's romance I got that heart sinking feeling from the beginning where we confess to him. Obviously spoilers for Xiao's romance route.

Goes without saying, this is not genshin impact Xiao.

--

"...You're usually so rational, why did you take Helene's horoscope reading as accurate?" Xiao asks, your confession hurting you as he looks at you with judgement.

"I thought you liked me back. Why else would you invite me out? I really enjoyed our night last night." You sheepishly admit, Xiao wincing when he hears this.

"...Well I just see you as a colleague." Xiao parries, you have to look at the ground out of sheer embarrassment. "You've been here for what, a few months? I don't know much about you."

Now you're tearing up. The way he seemed to soften around you as you worked as a chemist in Moonbury made you see something he didn't. Everyone else was especially cold, and in hindsight he was likely only being nice to you because of the Mayor.

"I'm sorry." You croak out, sniffling before you speed walk out of Xiao's house.

--

The next day, he talks to you like normal but you don't even say a word, just resorting to nodding. Walking up the stairs, you decide to make the difficult decision of requesting to return to the Capital once your work is complete.

"What's brought this on, _?" Myer asks. "I was under the impression you were beginning to enjoy Moonbury, I've heard good things from many of our citizens."

"...I still feel out of place. My position as a chemist from the Capital won't leave. I understand the people's frustration over the previous Chemists, and I do want to help Moonbury, but I don't belong here."

"...Have you spoken to Xiao about this? I don't want to sound rude when saying this, but Xiao is typically who would speak to me about this."

"Yeah, about that... I confessed to him. Silly, I know, I shouldn't have tried to get romantic with the person that speaks to me about pieces of my work."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that... I can try to make adjustments so that-"

"I'd rather just get through my responsibilities and leave when I complete my work here."

--

True to your word, a few months later you fix the issues caused by the Chemists running out of time to complete their work before leaving. While you felt happy to see Moonburys citizens so relieved, you still opt to leave.

Myer, Rue and Xiao see you off. Xiao doesn't say a word, he can't even look at you, and Rue tears up as she realises you won't be coming back anytime soon. Myer does the talking, wishing you well and thanking you for your support with Moonbury.

The train honks its horn, and you give one last goodbye to Myer - after all, he gave you the chance to work here, and you had a roof over your head as well as the clinic.

Taking a seat in the train, you look out the window as your dog whines. Waving out the window, you see Rue and Myer waving, both plastering the best smile they can, but Xiao doesn't wave.

He does, however, look at you with a regretful face. Chances are, he knew he was the reason you were leaving, but you look down at your dog before petting it's head.

[whencyclopedia]

Helen (Play)

Helen is a Greek tragedy by Euripides (c. 484-407 BCE). It is usually thought to have first been performed at the Great Dionysia of 412 BCE and was part of the trilogy that included Euripides' lost Andromeda. Helen recounts an unusual version of the myth of Helen of Troy in which a phantom decoy, an eidolon, replaces Helen in Troy while the real Helen awaits the end of the Trojan War in Egypt. Ever since its first performance, Euripides' Helen has puzzled and fascinated: in his Thesmophoriazusae, performed the year after Euripides' Helen, Greek comedy playwright Aristophanes would parody the “new Helen” (line 850). To this day, scholars continue to debate many aspects of Euripides' Helen, including its jarring juxtaposition of the comic and the devastating, its contemporary relevance, and its message about the nature of truth and reality.

Euripides

Born around 484 BCE, Euripides was the youngest of the three Athenian tragedians regarded as “canonical” since antiquity (the other two are Aeschylus and Sophocles). Of the 90 or so plays he composed during his lifetime, 18 survive in full (one of the tragedies transmitted under his name, Rhesus, is almost universally regarded as spurious). There are thus more surviving plays by Euripides than by Aeschylus and Sophocles put together, demonstrating that after his death Euripides soon eclipsed his two predecessors in popularity.

Little enough is known about Euripides' life, and what little information we have is obscured by fable and fancy. He was born to a family of hereditary priests on the island of Salamis, near Athens. He was said to have married twice, though both marriages ended acrimoniously. From one of his marriages, he had three sons, one of whom became a tragedian too. Above all, Euripides was reputed to have been a recluse, famously living in a cave in Salamis (which became a shrine to him after his death). Eventually, he retired to the court of King Archelaus of Macedon, where he died in 406 BCE.

Euripides is best known to us through his plays. These were performed at various festivals, chiefly the Dionysia and Lenaia, at huge outdoor theaters. Most of Euripides' plays were performed at Athens for audiences of locals and tourists, though some of his works would have been produced elsewhere: in Macedon, where Euripides spent the last years of his life, or Sicily, where he was apparently very popular. Even during his own lifetime, Euripides was known as the most adventurous and avant-garde of the great tragedians. This did not always translate to success, however. Over a career that spanned half a century (Euripides produced his first trilogy around 455 BCE and continued to compose tragedies until his death) Euripides won the first prize just four times during his life (a fifth time posthumously). On the other hand, Aeschylus was said to have been victorious 13 times and Sophocles 18. Euripides' tragedies – full of desperation, novelty, and relentless questioning – were sometimes regarded as sensational and even impious. But Euripides' fame and popularity grew after his death while that of Aeschylus and Sophocles declined. Today there are those that think of Euripides as the greatest of the Athenian tragedians.

Continue reading...

[tomatoluvr69]

Brief check in re: Helene. TLDR I’m alive but my world has been upended and I’ll be off this website for awhile, even if I wanted to we barely have communications in our flood ravaged city. Don’t read this if you have any sort of disaster trauma I guess, I probably should’ve kept this shorter but it kind of got away from me. I may delete/edit later but I don’t really have the capacity for self censorship At the moment, i guess it was good for me to get some of it out stream of consciousness style? Lol idk guess I’m just using my blog as a blog. Anyways I lived bitch

Hi guys, thanks to the couple people who messaged me checking if I was ok, I don’t really have capacity or time to reply to them all, but I’m doing ok all things considered. Basically I live in Western North Carolina and our city has been utterly shattered by flooding after Hurricane Helene. We made it safely to Durham but we are going back tonight with a car full of mutual aid supplies like childrens medicine and chainsaw fuel and cooking oil. I don’t really have the words to describe what I’ve been going through, being cut off from all communications and information for days and have no way to reach your loved ones, to walk through a friend’s house to try to reach their water and food stash and look up at the tree in the ceiling, to stand on a railroad bridge and look down at an entire neighborhood swept away, to know that your family back home hasn’t heard from you in four days and has no way to know if you’re dead. Five people with one degree of separation to me drowned in flash floods, including two children. A college friend had his entire home swept down the river. It’s just all so uncertain. I cry at nothing. Wandering around unscathed Durham and watching people mow their lawns and go to brunch has been a surreal dream and I can’t believe I am going back. But we got some clean underwear, our first shower, and I even got my favorite taqueria order, a torta de lengua and Jesus Christ you can’t imagine how good that tasted

We’ve been without power for 10 days and the water is likely to be out for weeks, the groundwater people are using to drink and bathe may be contaminated by chemicals from manufacturing plants and you just have no way of knowing, and because the city’s water and septic systems were obliterated there is going to be untold amounts of human waste and waste-borne diseases threatening public health, we just don’t know yet. My brain and body have been wracked by it all, there are times when I am somewhere safe and feel mentally calm but note with this weird sense of detachment that my body is trembling. It’s just indescribable to have your city be unrecognizable and underwater, I’m really shaken. Before we got some texting capacity back, if your roommate just failed to come home one night, you had no way to know that she wasn’t killed out there. We will be without drinking water for weeks when all this is over but that’s peanuts compared to the cars you pass by with the search and rescue symbol for “we found a body here” painted on them.

All of which is just to say I’m alive but things are still very bad and I’ll be without reliable communication for the foreseeable future, not to mention no water, and so obviously I’ll be off here awhile. I’ll be back soon enough complaining about mundane inconveniences but frankly it’s difficult to even talk to anyone outside of Helene’s destruction, I’m going to be reeling for a long time. Don’t reblog this because I won’t have the capacity to monitor this post but I guess donate to the Asheville Survival Project if you have the inclination, that’s a way for people like me who are relatively unscathed to get direct needs like formula, insulin, underwear, and shelf stable goods directly into people’s hands who fared worse, without jumping through the impossible hoops of things like FEMA. But I’ll probably be stepping back from mutual aid stuff to support my best friend who is now responsible for arranging the burials of a family of four, including his friend/coworker and her two boys, whose upcoming wedding he was going to will now be their combined funeral date. It’s really insane out here and leaving the stability of Durham with its electricity, grocery stores, toilets, and internet is honestly a bit devastating. But weirdly it will also be a relief to be back in a place where the grimness in your heart is not at odds with your surroundings and you talk to people without preface, with dirty hair and dirty clothes and break down in tears in any given conversation with a stranger, if that makes sense? I also can’t really imagine evacuating cause that’d be incredibly jarring in a different way. It’s so hard to explain. I’m so irritable and angry and numb all the time. I’m yelling at the person who loves me most in the world, so many of the emotional issues I had before this exploded to a boiling point in shocking and unpredictable ways. I go around floating in a daze.

But I’m very, very lucky to be alive and none of my loved ones killed, I just don’t really know what the next few weeks will hold and if, like, cholera is gonna break out, or people I know will die of things like food allergies because they can’t get a new epipen. There’s absolutely no way to convey what this survivor’s guilt is like, of having survived through sheer random luck of the draw. And the things I have seen with my own eyes will never leave me, and the gruesome phone calls I sat with my friend as he received, with the trauma unfolding in waves as the family’s bodies were identified one by one, and all the graphic details we absorbed of the eyewitness account of their panicked attempts to escape the floodwaters before they were swept to TN. I did not witness it but I cannot shake it. I can’t go more than a few minutes before the phrases ring through my head again. And I work at a school and I have no way of finding out if all my students survived, because they are children without their own contact info, until the school is able to contact me with any deaths. That uncertainty is weighing tremendously on my shoulders right now and I can’t believe I’m sitting in a cafe and I still don’t know the extent of the death toll or if the kids I’ve known and worked with every day for so long we’re able to escape their homes.

I guess just keep Western NC in your thoughts, the devastation is going to take years to crawl back from, but also keep paying attention to Gaza, the trauma and devastation there is so much more unimaginable and this has given me a new perspective on what it’s like to watch from afar as people continue their lives while yours is unrecognizable. Idk how much longer I’m gonna have the capacity for mutual aid stuff here but I’m going to try. I may yet decide to evac, but you must understand this is my home and my community, and I want to be here to support my closest friend through this unimaginable loss, and the fact that he is responsible for arranging all four of their burials. Unless the city orders non essential personnel to leave then I will probably stay.

And there are of course moments of levity and fun, especially before we found out about the people, like breaking into a NC state extension agricultural experiment field and stealing some veggies off the vine, or cooking up big giant feasts of whatever we could save from the fridge.

I’ll check back in when I can and if any of you guys also live in southern Appalachia and need to be put in touch with aid I’ll check my DMs here when I can, we can get people out to you with whatever you need. But yeah just keep us in your thoughts I guess, things are still really bad. I’m going back to shop for more mutual aid stuff but then we’re leaving again but I’ll check in when the internet’s back I suppose

Eat a nice hot meal for me, don’t take ice cubes or your shower for granted, and watch something pretentious. xoxoxoxoxox ur favorite natural disaster survivor, tomato lover sixty nine