#and thankfully came out of the Deep Depression like a month or two ago

[your-jellyfish-senpai]

Nothing like chugging some alcohol on a fine Monday night to cope with unpleasant though not entirely unexpected conversations

[mayhem-neverending]

The Big Bad Wolf

Summary: Obito survives the fourth shinobi war, and with Kakashi's help, is sent to live in the forest surrounding Konoha. He's a prisoner in his home, the property warded so that no one can enter or exit without the Hokage's explicit permission.

After two years, Kakashi can't ignore the fact that his old friend is wasting away in his home. Thankfully, though, he finds someone (reluctantly) willing to help bring him back to health.

Also, I know that his hair turns white, but I'm keeping it black here. Annnd there are cell phones in this au. I'm pretty sure those are the only major changes I'm making.

Obito Uchiha x Fem!Reader

Warnings: single mother reader, slowburn, angst, canon violence, depression, Uchiha bullshittery, mentions of abuse, alcohol usage, sexual themes

Part I

Word count: 1266

Note: New WIP because my brain can't focus. This is incredibly self-indulgent, because I am a slut for Obito. I will be back on my other WIP soon, I promise. This came to me after I read a fic on AO3, although I can't remember the name.

The Hokage’s tower was intimidating. It was your first time stepping foot anywhere near it in years, and you wondered if it had somehow risen in height. You adjusted your button up and slacks, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.

You navigated the busy hallways swiftly, muscle memory kicking in when your brain wanted to give up. You found yourself in front of the door to the Hokage’s office in a flash, and knocked before you could psych yourself out.

“Come in,”

You opened the door and stepped through, eyes wandering around the room. It looked much the same as it had a few years ago and the familiarity eased some of your nerves. The man in front of you wasn’t necessarily an unfamiliar face, either, and his smile further calmed you.

“Y/n L/n, it’s been quite some time since I’ve seen you,”

You smiled politely at him from your spot near the door. “It has,”

He gestured you forward. “Come, sit,”

You settled yourself down in the chair across from him, and he folded his hands on the desk.

“Thank you for coming in today,”

“Thank you for having me, Lord Sixth,”

“Call me Kakashi,” He waved his hand.

You just managed to keep your disapproving look from fully forming on your face. “Yes, sir,”

He rolled his eyes playfully. It made you shift a bit uncomfortably. You had never been close to the man, and when you had known him, he had been much more serious. He seemed to sense your discomfort, and switched back to a more professional tone.

“So, you’re here for the personal assistant position, correct?”

You nodded.

“Before we continue, I would like to make you aware that this position is not as an assistant to me,”

You frowned, confused. Who would be so important that the Hokage himself would interview for them? Surely he was incredibly busy. It was clearly evident that the aftermath of the war was still weighing heavily on Konoha’s government, even two years later.

He continued, “A close friend of mine has been struggling, and I believe hiring him some help is the least I can do,”

You nodded, curiosity replacing the nerves that had lingered. He drummed his fingers on the desk, eyes cast aside in contemplation. After a moment of silence, he started again, “I suppose I should re-title the position,” His eyes slid to yours. “It’s more of a caretaker job,”

Now you were really confused. “What exactly would I be doing?”

“Cooking, housework, grocery shopping, etc,”

Your lips quirked up and you nodded. You would call yourself an expert in those things after the last two years you had had. “And what would the hours look like?”

“Monday through Friday, starting at 8:30am and ending when you finish your tasks. The position is salary,”

He was ticking off each of your boxes the more he spoke. But, after struggling to find a job that fit all your needs for the past six months, you were quick to hold back your excitement. You were tired of being disappointed when you either didn’t get it, or something just wouldn’t work.

“That sounds like a good deal to me,”

His eyes crinkled into his little half-moon smile. “I’m glad to hear it. I have to ask, what brings you here today?”

“My current job just isn’t a good fit, and I want something that feels more rewarding - like I’m making a difference… I wouldn’t be upset about a pay raise, either.” You half-shrugged.

Kakashi chuckled. “I hear you. What do you think qualifies you for this position? I know it’s a bit different than what I advertised, so don’t worry about taking a second to answer,”

You shook your head, a little smile on your lips. “I’m more qualified for this type of work than what you advertised, so I can answer easily.”

You straightened up in the chair. “Before the last six months, I was a stay at home mom. I handled every piece of housework, managed our finances, did the shopping for the three of us, and took care of my son. It’s almost second nature to me to manage a household now,”

Kakashi nodded. “I was wondering about the gap in your resume,”

You quirked a brow. “Are you telling me you didn’t do a thorough background check before bringing me in here?”

He smiled widely, a sparkle in his eye. “Now there’s the little chunin I remember,”

You smiled bashfully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“No, I have extensive investigations performed for each person before they enter this office for an interview. I like to see who is honest with me when I ask questions, though,”

You ignored the urge to roll your eyes. “Well, based on mine, how much of a chance do you think I have to get this job?”

He hummed. “Pretty high, I’d say,”

You perked up.

He tapped a tinger to his chin. “Actually, since you caught me, I think it’s only fair to offer it to you, if you want it,”

You blinked in surprise. “Really?”

He nodded, his face sobering quite suddenly. “Although I can’t divulge why at the moment, you are my first choice out of all of the applicants.”

You looked at him in bewilderment, but held your questions in. His eyes flickered around the room. He scratched the back of his head, and brought the smile back to his face.

“Starting pay is seventy-five thousand a year, would that be sufficient?”

It took you a moment to respond. Your head was spinning with the possibilities that would open up to you with that kind of money. The foremost thought in your mind, though, was: I won’t have to struggle anymore.

You finally managed a nod. “More than,”

“Perfect, how soon can you start?”

“Uhh, Monday, probably,”

He started to say something else, but you accidentally interrupted him with your next question. “Who am I supposed to be taking care of?”

Kakashi met your gaze with intensity. He searched your eyes for a long moment, and you tried so very hard not to shrink into yourself. After an eternity, he let loose a heavy sigh. His reaction was making your nerves rise back up at full force.

“Your.. ward, for lack of a better term, is.. Obito Uchiha,”

Your jaw dropped and you stopped breathing, your mind going completely blank. When your thoughts finally filtered in again, your first coherent thought was: So that’s the catch?

Why would you be his first choice for a war criminal’s babysitter? Kami, what would your family say if they found out just who you were working with? Despite your negative internal dialogue, you couldn’t help but think about the money. It would do you so much good, even if you only worked the job for a year or two.

You scrubbed a hand over your face in a jerky movement. It wasn’t much of a debate. You would benefit far more by taking the job than denying it. A sudden thought popped up - something that you should have thought of right off the bat.

“What if he tries to hurt me?”

Kakashi frowned, but his eyes were understanding. “He won’t. I wouldn’t have created the position if I thought he would try something.”

You nodded slowly. It tracked. He didn’t fight at the frontlines during the Fourth Shinobu War to put his people in danger. You knew he was a good man.

“Okay,” you said quietly.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” It was hardly more confident than the first.

“Alright, let’s go over the details then,”

Part II

[peterparkouryo]

captivated habits ii | 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

prompt; Your unrequited love for Peter turns unhinged.

warnings: mentions of violence, blood, angst, stalking, bpd, self-harm (both mentioned and done), mentions of kidnapping (doesn't actually happen lol), manipulation done by reader

word count: 3.8k

part one part three

The way your mind worked, it scared you to some extend. You really had no idea why or how you thought the way you did. It wasn't like your parents were bad people, they were decent at their parenting skills. Unfortunately for them, you were raised in a different world, where whatever they told you not to do, you'd do the exact opposite of that.

In grade school, they'd have assemblies about mental health, how to not do drugs, really stressing those lessons you have to learn almost every year. It was a sickening thing you went through. You never paid any attention anyhow.

When it came to your mental stability, before you met Peter, you had a suspicion that something was wrong with you, but it wasn't well prominent until you met Peter.

He changed your life for the good, even if it was a one sided appreciation. That's when you knew, as soon as you started paying just a little more attention to detail, you were a goner. It didn't quite click with you why Peter made you obsessively insane. Were you even insane for loving someone such as him? 

Now, things were different. Not drastically different, but he knew of your stalking habits. Thankfully, he had no idea of your other activities, which would scare him away forever. You didn't want that.

You had a plan, a completely, diabolical, and potential jail time plan. 

If Peter could ever forgive and forget about you stalking him, he had to learn to understand that the only way for you two to be together is to have friends who wouldn't get in the way of your love.

Michelle Jones was your everest. She was the reason why you and Peter had a delayed relationship development. Her and her observing personality ruined any potential friendship, soon to be lovers with him. You wanted her to understand just how upset you were with her big ass mouth. She's the quiet type, but when it comes to her friends and people watching, you knew if it was important, the girl would voice things she'd learn to her friends. You knew that's exactly what she did with Peter.

After your abrupt dismissal from lunch, you avoided Peter and his friends until your plan was well thought out. You had to make yourself the victim if it meant getting rid of Michelle.

Even if the trio didn't know you knew they were aware of you being a stalker, or as you like to tell yourself, making sure Peter is okay, you had made it your life's mission to weasel your way into the friendship. It may be an awkward, and probably not the smartest approach, but you were ruining out of options and you desperately needed Peter to see you as the good guy.

Your mother isn't the brightest of people, you had learned that a few years ago when you were going through this deep depression that had you addicted to self-harm. It took maybe a few weeks for her to learn about your dependency and she took you to rehab, even hid the knives or anything sharp after your time spent in the centre.

Obviously, you had relapsed, and found a loophole to continue with your addiction, but after many insufferable months of harming yourself, you had once again found yourself back in rehab, and this time you did not relapse. It was a miracle for your parents, but for extra precaution, they made sure to hide sharp objects from you very well, and kept an eye on you 24/7.

It had been awhile since you self-harmed, you were healing from your depression, slowly but surely. This time around though, it had nothing to do with you being depressed. Maybe it did, but you summed it up to being about your plan, not your mental health.

The knife you had in your hand was for cutting vegetables, and with how big it was, you were sure the sharpness would make a very large scar, something you didn't really want, but you had no choice.

Thankfully, your parents were on an annual date they had every Friday night, and it gave you the opportunity to do exactly what you needed to do without them worrying for your health. It was this annoyingly clingy thing they did whenever you had something sharp in your hold, and god forbids you "accidentally" cut yourself.

You examine the knife carefully in your hold, analyzing the blade, silently asking yourself if you dare to do this, would you fall back into your old habits you fought so desperately to stop yourself from doing.

It wasn't like you had planned to cascade into the pleasure of self-harm, not like before. You had to remind yourself this was strictly for your masterminded plan, a plan that took heedful thinking and you'd be damned if your mental state got in the way of that.

With one swift motion, you slit the blade across your wrist, hissing at the unbearable pain, something you were accustomed to, but given the fact it has indeed been awhile, you watch the moderate amount of blood trickle down your arm in awe.

You grimace, the pain stinging in the worst way. The cut had been bigger than you imagined.

Examining it one last time, you settle for the results and make your way to your bathroom to clean up the blood.

Flickering the light switch on, you close the bathroom door, holding your arm, red bleeding through your fingertips, and you hurriedly hover it over the washroom sink, grabbing a nearby washcloth. You reach down into the cabinet below the sink, pawing for the alcohol you knew your mother kept for reasons, such as this. 

After another few seconds, you feel the familiar bottle, pulling it from its hiding spot and placing it on the counter as you turn the water on. 

Letting go of your bloody wrist, your hand covered in the red liquid, you dab a few drops of alcohol onto the washcloth, slowly cleaning the blood of your wrist, winching at the agony.

You remove the washcloth when you finish cleaning your wound, running warm water over it, watching the blood mix with the water, running down the drain.

Turning off the water, you throw the washcloth into the sink, forcing your gaze away from the cut on your wrist and into the mirror in front of you.

It was a really fucked up thing you were doing. You knew that whatever happened moving forward would ruin your future, not just with Peter, but for yourself.

You were under the impression that no matter what, this was for you and Peter. It was the right thing to do, and it didn't matter what happened to you, as long as you found your way back to the boy you loved. 

-

"You can't be serious." Michelle groaned, her eyes narrowing at the boy in-front of her.

"I'm so serious." Peter argued.

"Peter, you barely know anything about her," Michelle points out, to which Peter only rolls his eyes at her.

It was hard to understand that Peter, her somewhat best friend, if he's lucky enough to even have her call him that, had a crush on you, of all people.

You were quiet, and barely talked to anyone unless it was Cindy Moon, or unless you were spoken to. The girl couldn't recall a time where you willingly talked to anyone. 

When Peter had told Michelle about his harbouring feelings for you, of course the girl was skeptical, not knowing anything about you, only that you were quiet and very watchful of Peter. That alone sparked an interesting suspicion for Michelle. 

Naturally, the girl is a very observant person, a people watcher to most. And with Peter being one of her only friends, she wanted to make sure any girl he ever had a crush on didn't end up with another villainous parent, or were secretly a villain themselves. Ultimately, you were not a villain, and it was safe to say you had no parents who were planning world domination.

What Michelle did manage to find out was that you were a stalker. A very scary stalker, something she accidentally found out when her dad picked up from school one day. It was when she saw Peter meters ahead of you, and you were doing something she's seen in enough movies and TV shows to know that you were either following the boy home or, well, there was nothing else she could really think of.

At first, she didn't want to believe it, considering her friend had a deep affection for you, but with more observation she found out something very disturbing about you. It was almost a miracle that you two were on the Decathlon team and when Michelle forced herself to human interaction, she learned from Cindy that you had a "small" crush on Peter, and that the girl also knew your locker combination because apparently Cindy was the only person you trusted with that valuable information.

Michelle had to think strategically when she had asked the girl for it, hoping she would give in and tell her, and thankfully Cindy is a very kind and albeit, accommodating person, granting the girl with the important detail.

When school was over and Michelle was sure you were no where near your locker, she waited a few good minutes, cautiously approaching it when the coast was clear.

What she discovered was frightening,

 You had maybe a few normal school objects cluttered inside your locker, which wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but when she clambered around the textbooks and notebooks, a few photos inside one of the notebooks scattered to the ground. Michelle was quick to pick up the pictures, and when she further examined, it certainly didn't take a rocket scientist to know who the photos were of.

It only proved that if anything, you were not only a stalker, but obsessed.

She was in shock, too stunned to wrap her head around the information she had found out. Michelle knew that she needed to tell Peter of her discovery.

But the boy would probably not even listen to her pleads. Most likely tell her off for the invasion of privacy, which she did understand, but this was urgent, and she didn't know what you were capable of. She didn't know if you had a plan to kidnap the poor boy, never letting him be able to see the light of day again because of how obsessed over him you were. Even if that wasn't your exact plan, she wouldn't put it past you to not do.

After her discovery, Michelle decides to keep it to herself, opting to watch you like a hawk, and she figures its better to not stand in the way of you or Peter, hoping the boy came to his senses and realize just how unnatural your personality was.

Weeks went by and nothing out of the ordinary had happened, until one day Peter tells both Ned and Michelle of his delirious plan to ask you to sit with them at lunch so the boy could get to know you more, and the girl rolls her eyes at his extend.

In the end, it did work out for him, and what made things really weird for Michelle was when you came up to her in math one day, which made her heart skip a beat, fearing you had found out about her invading your privacy.

Thankfully, you had no idea about it, and instead you tried to strike up conversation, telling Michelle about how Peter invited you to sit with them at lunch, and the girl tried to ignore the gleaming sparkle in your eyes when you mentioned his name. 

She did entertain you, and it made her a bit happy to know you were very paranoid of anyone finding out about your stalking habits.

When lunch had rolled around, the girl decides to keep her distance for a short amount of time, letting Peter do what it was he needed to do, and when she approached the table, something in the air shifted.

Michelle had not known what it was, but she watched as you quickly gathered everything you had and leave the table in complete fear.

The girl chalked it up to the idea of Peter saying something out of character, which he declined, and it was still a wonder to Michelle to what exactly made you hurriedly leave the lunch table.

"I think she's intimated by MJ." Ned speaks up from next to his best friend, only cowering when the girl shoots him daggers.

"What makes you say that?" Peter wonders.

"Well, maybe she thinks MJ likes you." Ned shrugs, the sentence making both of his friends snort.

"That's funny." 

"As if."

Michelle fought hard to make sure anything like that wasn't thought upon or entertained by anyone.

It wasn't like Peter was ugly, but they differ a lot on the personality scale. Some people were mildly confused on how the three of them managed to be friends, but ultimately they did complete each-other in a way that was comforting. 

Peter sighs, "I just don't understand what happened.." 

Ned frowns, giving his friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and Michelle watches the boy carefully, almost feeling bad for his failure of a love life. It was no secret the boy had bad luck when it came to girls.

"I mean, from what I know Y/N does like to be alone, so maybe it scared her being around people for more than two minutes." Michelle tries to reason, though she couldn't figure if that was a half true or a complete lie.

"But she was laughing at our jokes, and engaging in conversation, so I just-" Peter cuts himself mid sentence, his eyes turning a shade brighter when something catches his attention behind Michelle.

She turns arounds, her gaze meeting your figure and you looked tired, she noticed that you were wearing a long sleeve shirt, ditching your usual jacket that you normally would wear with everything.

The girl turns back around, seeing Peter's face itch into a smile.

You had purposely made yourself late to the decathlon meeting, staying up until your eyes were visibly red and the under bags were certainly noticeable from far away.

As if on instinct, you scan the room for the boy who stole your heart, immediately finding his face and witness how he quickly looks away from your gaze, and your heart drops to your stomach at the action.

You had no one to blame but the girl sitting across from him, blazing your eyes into the back of her head.

A hand grips your injured wrist and you wince, breaking your gaze away from Michelle onto a frantic Cindy Moon.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're okay, thought you weren't gonna show up." She countered, letting go of your wrist, unaware of the pain shooting through your arm.

You show the girl a small smile, flickering your eyes behind her, noticing three eyes on you, which doesn't help with your anxiety.

You had to quickly put your plan in motion.

Taking a hold of Cindy's arm, you drag her a bit closer to the three of them, where you knew you two would be in earshot with what you were about to say.

"Hey, Cid, can I tell you something really quick?" You ask in faux nervousness, and the girl quickly nods, squeezing your hand in reassurance.

"Of course."

You smile, taking a deep breath, closing your eyes in preparation of what you were about to say.

Cindy instinctively takes ahold of both your wrists, and you wince in pain at the unplanned action, but you figured it could only be in your favour.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She asks, letting go of your wrists to examine your state.

You nod hesitantly, rubbing your arm as you watch Cindy's worried expression, having to fight back a smile at the girl.

"I just, I'm having a hard time." You mumble, your eyes meeting the floor.

Since you could consider Cindy one of your only friends, you told the girl about your past depression, including the well known fact of your addiction to self-harm, and like your parents, the girl made sure you wouldn't relapse into that state again.

She was excited to know that you had sobered up, and made it your goal to fight away the thoughts of ever thinking of doing anything like it again, she was with you every step of the way.

If you weren't so fucked up, you'd be thankful for the girl.

"Did you-" Cindy stutters out, trying to piece together your vague words.

"Did you, um, relapse," The question was uncertain, and you steal another glance at the table behind the girl, noticing Peter's curious stare, and you nod as you look back at the girl, holding yourself to sell your act.

Cindy's eyes are wide and she scans your entire body, probably trying to figure out where exactly had you harmed yourself, and its when she does notice your red eyes and under bags.

"My goodness, you look exhausted. Do you want to go to the nurse?" She places a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you quickly shake your head, feeling the tears well up in your eyes.

You unwrap your hands from yourself, using one of your hands to pull up the long sleeve you wore, showing the girl the very large scar on your wrist, and Cindy gasps in disbelief, her audible action catching the attention of the table behind you.

You shyly look up at the girl, watching her intently gape at the wound, the tears now falling down your face in fear of what would happen next.

"I'm sorry, I know this is bad, but I-, it just got too much for me." You choke, pouting when Cindy shows you a pitiful look.

"No, no, I'm glad you had the courage to not only tell me, but show me. I know it's hard for you to do this sort of thing." You wanted to laugh and roll your eyes at her words, but your breath is caught in your throat when you see Peter, and his no good friends come up behind Cindy.

"Hey, um, is everything okay?" Peter questions cautiously, no doubt seeing your sad state, worry as clear as day in his eyes.

Cindy shoves your sleeve back down your arm, turning to a worried Peter, and you wonder if this had something to do with being in your presence, or if the boy was genuinely worried. Had it be the latter, you'd thank him by either kissing every square inch of his charming face, or offered to fall on your knees for him.

You wipe the tears from your face, avoiding eye contact with the boy and his friends, and you suspect Michelle's gaze remained on you.

"It's-," Cindy looks back to you, a silent question etched on her face.

You nod, meeting Peter's gaze.

Peter watches you with fear, not because he was scared of you, but it was a terrifying speculation that ran laps inside his head that you were in some sort of danger. Granted, he knew little about you, but it was safe to admit that he did like you, a lot. 

The rational thing to do was make sure that no one was willingly hurting you mentally or physically, and had that been the case, Peter would do everything he could to make you feel better.

"I slit my wrist." You blurt out, your gaze drift to Michelle's, and for the first time in forever, you weren't focused on Peter's reaction.

From the corner of your eye, you can clearly see Peter's face fall in disbelief, and though Michelle doesn't show any sort of shocked expression (much to your disappointment), you can see that her eyes held a sorrowful meaning.

The silence was loud, and thank god not everyone paid attention to your confession, only the people you wanted to know had heard you.

Peter's mouth open and close, completely at a lost for words for your brave confession.

Ned sort of just gapes at you, his mouth hung wide open, and if you weren't acting, you'd laugh at his expression.

Michelle on the other hand, holds her gaze deeply, not knowing what to say or think really. She felt this oncoming guilt that she knew she shouldn't have considering you aren't necessarily a good person, but this confession ate her alive.

No matter what though, it was a sad thing, and probably very hard to come clean to. It was probably one of the reasons why you so eagerly left the table that day, and now she had this urge to help you, despite knowing you weren't mentally stable, but now she was well aware of this issue.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry I-" Peter starts, his frowns and the look alone makes your heart ache. His empathy certainly wasn't needed, and you know that deep down you're doing this for him.

You wanted to let him see that all that you were doing, or planning to do was all for him. 

What good does it do if trying to prove your love for him only brings misery for the boy?

The only way you can be one hundred percent sure Peter would ever fully devote to you the way you already devoted yourself to him, was to kill for his love.

Kill those who dare step in your way of accomplishing that. Starting with the one who made sure  you wouldn't.

"Hey, Michelle?" You sniffle, shying your gaze away from the girl.

"Yeah?"

"I know that you're in a mental health awareness program," You start, meeting her gaze as she nods for you to continue. "Was just wondering if you could help me with that?" You question.

Michelle shares a look with her friends, Cindy only steps closer to you.

There's a long, dreadful silence, and you grow mildly impatience, but you try not to let that trait show and you watch Peter glance your way before Michelle shrugs with a shaky sigh.

"Yeah, sure." She forces a fake smile.

You reciprocate it.

"Thank you."

Michelle nods and forces her gaze away from Peter who thanks her silently with a smile. She knew she would never hear the end of this from him, the boy telling her how much it meant to him that she was willing to help you out with your mental health.

She wondered if Peter would now ever find the confidence to talk to you, hoping in some way if he ever wanted to be with you, he'd at least try to help you out without Michelle having to do all the work.

Of course Peter plans to talk to you about this newly found information, but he doesn't know how to go about it. He wants to let you know he's here for you even if you wouldn't fully understand how much he means it.

You on the other hand, all you could think about is just how good it would feel to finally have Peter just to yourself.

You couldn't wait until Michelle's blood was on your hands. That alone brings a real smile to your face.

tags

@clairebearfr @tomhollandsslut @betzabobababi

[itsgirlcraft]

God, HOW did you know, Tumblr? How did you know I just got my meds refilled?!

Forgive me if this is more of a vent than informative, but this is probably the best place for this...

I...God, the past week was INSANE and it's all because of this. Because I'm diagnosed with ADHD and have a therapist and my pharmacy just. They didn't even have it. My mom was too stressed 2 weeks ago, so I had to call the pharmacy myself. But I didn't know what to do with that information. I don't even have my doctor's number.

I was already knee-deep in college work and couldn't take days off from my medication. I've managed to scrape together 3 pills over the past several months, just in case. And I had to use every last one last week. I barely got a week's worth of work done in two days. And then I used my last pill to try to enjoy Halloween. And I did! I did have fun! I did enjoy it! But I went to bed at midnight...and I had quite possibly the worst possible mental health episode I've ever had the next day.

Last Friday was the closest to depression I've ever been in months, years, even. Between being unmedicated, sleep-deprived, menstruating, and the anxiety of college constantly on my peripheral, I was in the worst state I've ever been in. I can't shower while unmedicated due to overstimulation, and I was already 4 or 5 days overdue for one.

I'm used to being more tired and anxious when unmedicated, but this was something worse. I was too tense to lay down, too tired to stand, and too anxious to be alone with my thoughts. The only coherent thoughts I had were my anxiety. Periodically I would break down crying as I realized how helpless I was to the passage of time, knowing I'd need to do college work soon again. I didn't know if my medication would ever come, and if I may have to drop out.

Two weeks ago, I'd had a severe anxiety attack that came back repeatedly, related to college. I was scared I wouldn't be able to do the reading for both classes, and I'd have to drop out of (ironically) my psychology class. Running out of medication following that was the worst possible scenario for my mental health. That anxiety came back throughout the week I was unmedicated and crescendoed horrifically on Friday.

Like stormcloud, my life's improved with medication and diagnosis, but monthly prescriptions still creep up on me. I thankfully can handle offbrand medication just fine, but my pharmacy has a tendency to be incredibly unreliable. Even if I stay on top of it, despite everything, it's still likely that they somehow forget or are late again. I haven't been able to transfer to a different one nor get an actual doctor. I've been stuck with pediatrician despite being 20.

anyways can we start recognizing adhd as an actual and serious disorder that

can affect on functioning in every day life so badly that it interferes with taking care of very basic human needs

is not 10 yrs old white boy exclusive disorder

is not a fake disorder created to benefit medicine companies

definitely should not be reduced to “kid who cant sit still and wont stop screaming” stereotypes because adhd has a whole fuckton of symptoms ranging from serious memory issues to fine motor control difficulties

[manndo]

not today, but someday [oberyn martell x reader]

gif credit

pairing[s]: oberyn martell x female!reader

warning[s]: 18+ due to heavily implied sexual content (no actually smut), sexual references/situations, mentions of breeding (in reference to conceiving a child), swearing; talks of pregnancy & the inability to conceive; fluff; angst; oberyn being oberyn (is that a warning??); no mention of ellaria; possible inaccuracies about got (see notes)

word count: 5.4k (ummmm, whoops?)

prompt[s]: none.

summary: all you had ever wanted was a little one, a child to call your own. and yet, months later, you were still without child. still barren, and your dream of becoming a mother seemed to be slipping away. 

author’s notes: okay, so, let me start off saying this -- oberyn martell has taken over my life and i have spent much time yearning over him. and, in doing so, i got this idea one day because, as we know, oberyn had eight daughters. so, i thought, what if he had a s/o who could not seem to conceive? hence, this fic. but, i have never watched an episode of got in my life. i have seen his scenes (besides, you know, that scene because in my head, oberyn is alive and well and having all the berries and orgies he wants & i just can’t handle that much violence) and i have read some articles about the show, seen the gifs/posts on tumblr, and talked to people who have watched it in the past eight+ years. but that the extent of my knowledge of got. so, i apologize in advance for any inaccuracies that this fic holds. and i hope that my characterization of oberyn is good. also, no ellaria -- i just did not feel like she fit in this in anyway possible, and i did not want to force her into the story, so to speak. well, i think that is it! so, on with the show! all mistakes are my own. comments/reblogs/likes are much appreciated. thank you! ❤️

“I am sorry, m’lady.”

You did not know what else you were expecting. You knew, deep down, that nothing had changed. You did not need the maester to tell you that you were still without child — you knew. But, Oberyn had instead you call up on them, and you were too tired to argue. You also hoped you were wrong, and Gods did you want to be wrong. But, you were not.

You plastered on a polite smile for the maester. “It’s quite alright,” you said, your voice tight as you forced your emotions down. You weren’t going to shed any tears in front of the maester; you would never give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you cry, save for your husband. You nodded your head toward the door. “That’ll be all. Good day.” The maester bowed lowly before turning on their heel and exiting, the large wooden door shutting with a resounding, empty thud. 

The sound echoed in your head and heart; it seeped into your veins, and began to settle in your bones. The sound felt like a finality of sorts. An ending before anything could even begin.

A short, broken sob escaped your lips, and you quickly slapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sound from breaking free. However, it did not matter — the dam had broken, the heartache released. Another sob escaped, muffled by your palm as you squeezed your eyes closed, and laid down on your bed. Your body curling into itself as tears easily flowed down your cheeks, staining them. You felt as if your body was turning on you, tearing you apart at the seams as you shook violently with your cries.

For eight months now, the two of you had been actively trying for a babe, an heir for Oberyn. Not that he himself required an heir — he had eight beautiful daughters, his Sand Snakes, whom he loved dearly no matter their status. But, when the two of you had been wed over a year ago, there had been an unspoken expectation placed upon you both. Oberyn paid no mind, and told you to do the same, but that was easier said than done.

You had always wanted to be a mother, wanting to have babe upon babe running around, mucking up your home and tugging at your skirts. To watch them grow and prosper, becoming handsome young lads and beautiful young ladies, all whom would be intelligent and strong, but caring and kind. To have your legacy, no matter how small or large it would be, live on thorough them. Perhaps there was a small sense of duty, as a woman, that made you yearn to have children. But, you knew that was not the whole picture. Children were beautiful, wonderful, and loving. They were gifts, and you want to have those gifts, to cherish and love them till you were dead and buried. You wanted it, with all your heart, and yet, it seemed like fate was delivering you a cruel hand.

There had been, one fleeting moment in the very beginning of your wedded bliss, where you were positively sure you were with child. You had been so sure, so eager to see the maester; however, you had quickly been proven wrong by your own body betraying you. You’d spent the day in your chambers, unwilling to leave for any reason. Oberyn had found you curled deep in your silken sheets that evening, and try as he might with his quiet, reassuring words, he was unable to pull you from your depressive state. So, he had held you — silently, but tightly, pressing soft kisses across your shoulders, your neck, your jaw. He let his fingertips brush against your skin, tracing nonsensical patterns across your hips, your stomach, your chest, anywhere he could reach. His touches were light, and his movements were sluggish. He comforted you silently, the best way he knew how, and you allowed him to do so. It hadn’t eased the pain completely, but it had been enough.

But, slowly, the days had turned to weeks, and the weeks turned into months, and nothing changed. It did not matter that the two of you had stopped bringing others into your bed to focus solely on each other, for Oberyn to focus solely on you. Nor, did it matter how many times he filled you with his seed, or how willing and open you were to taking what he offered. It did not matter day, afternoon, or night. Nothing mattered. Because here you were, still without child. Barren.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed as the tears flowed and the sobs continued to wrack your body as you laid curled in your marriage bed. Your hand maiden had knocked on the door at one point, but you had been quick to dismiss her before she could enter and find you in your current state. She had not come back and you were grateful. 

But then, finally, everything came to a standstill; the tears you had been crying seemed to dry up, and your body had stopped trembling. You took a deep, shuddering breath and unfurled yourself, allowing your limbs to stretch out across the sheets. The tears were still clinging to the corners of your eyes, but most of them had already dried and stained your cheeks and neck. You pushed yourself to sit on the side of your bed, and roughly wiped away at your face, brushing away the outward sings of your heartache. You silently wished you could easily wipe away the heartache in your chest, too. The one that had buried itself so deeply in there. 

You hadn’t even noticed the door to your chambers opening, didn’t even hear a voice calling out to you. It was only when the door shut — that hollow, empty thud — that you were brought back, your head whipping toward the sound. “Oberyn,” you said, your voice soft, a breathless whisper. He wasn’t supposed to be here; from what you recalled, he was supposed to be kept busy with mundane princely duties (his words, not yours). You weren’t supposed to see him till this evening — and from the way the sun was peeking through the curtains, it could only be mid afternoon — which would have given you plenty of time to steel yourself. To gather yourself together, lock your heartache and pain away before delivering the news. To pretend that it didn’t cut into your soul, didn’t rip you apart from the inside out. “What are you—”

“I had a free moment,” he said, making his way toward you, his golden robes flowing effortless around him. There was a smile playing at his lips, which told you that he actually did not have a moment — he made a moment to come and see you. 

You felt the heartache clawing at your throat, fighting to be released.

Quickly, you pushed yourself to stand, and turned away from him in a futile attempt to hide your face. He would come closer; he would see your pain, your sorrow. Because, though you had wiped away the tears and the stains they had left behind on your cheeks, your eyes were still red and puffy. The pain and heartache still lingering behind your eyes.

God, you had hoped to have more time, more time before you had to tell him. Before you had to watch the sadness and disappointment appear, filling his rich, beautiful brown eyes. You wanted more time. 

A pragmatic pause. “Love,” he said, his voice sounding strained, painful. Your actions had spoken louder than words, it seemed.

You could feel a fresh set of tears springing to your eyes, your hand grasping at the dress clinging loosely to your side. You fisted the fabric tightly and closed your eyes, willing yours tears to stay put, to not fall. You heard Oberyn call out for you again, this time your birth name falling from his lips just before you felt him come closer. He hadn’t touched you, not yet, but you could feel his presence only mere inches behind you. 

“Love,” Oberyn whispered once more, this time as you felt his hand wrap gently around the fist at your side, the other coming to wrap around your waist. “I am—”

“Don’t,” you breathed out, the word sounding more like a broken sob than anything coherent. You broke away from Oberyn, and thankfully, he let you go. “I cannot bare another I am sorry, especially from you, husband,” you said, your voice harsher than you had intended, angrier. Not at him, no, you could never be angry with Oberyn. No, you were angry at yourself. This was your fault; you were defective, broken, unable to provide him and yourself with the one thing you had so desperately wished for. “I have heard enough apologies to last me a lifetime.”

You felt his fingertips brush gently against your arm, the lightest of touches, barely there. A soft gesture to tell you he was there, and that he would not leave. You took a shaky breath, and loosened the grip on the fabric in your hand, letting the dress fall back against you. “There is no rush, my love,” he said, his voice soft and tentative, as if he knew he was treading rough water. And, he was.

A choked chuckle escaped your lips, and you turned to face your husband. “For you, perhaps,” you said, letting your eyes take in his appearance. He looked as handsome as ever, but he was growing older, as was the consequences of living. Over time, more grey had appeared in his hair and his beard, and a few more lines and wrinkles adorned his regal face. Even his stomach had gone a little soft (not enough for anyone besides you to notice). But, he was still the man you had met many moons ago. Still the Red Viper. Sill the man could make any woman or man fall to their knees and beg for his cock. “You, my stallion, can breed until you’re dead. The same cannot be said for myself.”

“I do not think I would call myself a stallion, my dove. Not anymore.”

You snorted, and turned away from him, letting your eyes look down at your marriage bed. You ran a hand across the silk sheets. “With the way we’ve been fucking these past few months, I’d disagree.”

You heard an amused chuckle escape his lips. “I may be able to still mount you like a stallion, but perhaps, I can no longer bred you like one.”

You looked over your shoulder at Oberyn, and raised your eyebrow. “Don’t tell me the father of eight daughters doubts his ability to breed?”

His shoulders gave a small shrug before he reached out to you, wrapping his callused hand around your wrist. Oberyn brushed the rough pad of his thumb over your pulse point. “I am not in my prime anymore, my dove. Perhaps, the fault does not lie on you.”

You looked away from him and back toward your marriage bed. You felt him take a step closer before you felt the press of his lips against your shoulder in the briefest of kisses. The hand holding your wrist slide down, his fingers intertwining with yours. “You’re taking pity on me, husband,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I would never,” he said, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. He pressed another kiss to your shoulder before his chin came to rest there, his beard tickling your skin ever so slightly. “I am merely stating a possibility,” he mumbled, the hand holding yours moving, arm shifting to wrap around your waist, hands still tangled with one another. “A truth, perhaps.”

You scoffed. “You cannot be serious, my prince.”

Oberyn hummed, and placed a soft kiss on your neck. “I am,” he mumbled into your skin. “I could deny reality, if I wished, but denying the inevitable does not change the outcome.”

“So,” you swallowed and looked down at your tangled hands that were resting on your stomach. You took a deep breath. “You do not think of me as a failure?”

Before you could blink, Oberyn had spun you around to face him. His rich, dark eyes were narrowed, but there was no anger behind his eyes. “You are not a failure, my love,” he said, his voice filled conviction. He reached out, cupping your cheek gently, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “Please, do not think of yourself as one.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “There are not many things women are afforded in this life, Oberyn. Many of us are not giving the promise of kingdoms, riches or lands when we are but babes,” you stated, your voice hard, irritation lacing your words. “But this, the gift to bare children, we are born with that. That is ours,” you said, your voice softening as your throat tightened and tears welled at the corner of your eyes. You closed your eyes, and feel another swipe of his callused thumb across your cheek. “I know I am worth more than my anatomy. I know that my anatomy does not define me. That this, this failure,” you said, your voice catching in your throat, “this inability to conceive, does not define me.” You swallowed, and opened your eyes, looking into Oberyn’s deep, chocolate orbs. “I know these things, Oberyn. I know them. But, it cuts me deeply, so deeply that I feel as if I am bleeding out with no way to close the wound.”

“My dove,” he said softly, his other hand coming to rest on your other cheek. He held your face gently between his hands, his features soften, and you could see a pain in his decadent eyes. A pain that was reflected in your own. “Your pain is my pain, know that. And know, there is nothing I would not give up in this world in order to give you the gift of a child,” he said, and you could tell that he meant what he said. He wanted this as much as you did, you both wished for this, silently prayed for this. And yet, barren. 

You watched as he removed one of his hands from your cheek, sliding it down your neck, shoulder, down the middle of your chest, between your breasts and coming to rest on your stomach. Oberyn looked down at his hand, as did you, and spread his fingers across your stomach. “What I wouldn’t give to see you swell with our babe,” he said, and if you listened close enough, you could hear the slight hitch in his breath. You placed your hand over his on your stomach, fingers resting between his. “To see them suckle at your breast, to tug at your skirts, to wreak havoc in the halls.” He gazed back to you, and you felt a lump forming in your throat, a fresh set of tears prickling at the back of your eyes. “The sound of their cries and laughter filling the rooms. To see them as they grow and blossom.” He paused, and you could see he was choosing his words carefully. You felt a knot grow in your stomach. “But, I am starting to think—”

“Please, Oberyn,” you interrupted, your voice cracking as you closed your eyes, your fingers tightening their grip on his. “Do not say—”

“We need to take a step back, my love.”

Your eyes snapped opened. That was not exactly what you expected. You had expected him to say that you two should give up, forget the notion of ever having your own babe. Perhaps, he would even suggest an orphan child; you were not opposed to the idea, you loved children and would gladly be a mother to a child in need of one. But, you were not ready to give up the idea of having your own yet. 

“A step back?” you asked, your eyes filled with confusion as you released your grasp on his hand. You were not entirely sure where your husband was going with this statement. You could not imagine that he was implying to stop fucking. Though Oberyn had aged, he still enjoyed the pleasures of sex (as did you) and the idea that he would give that up? Preposterous. “Are you suggesting we stop fucking, dear husband?”

Oberyn looked aghast at your suggestion, and it made the corner of your mouth tick up. “What a ridiculous notion, dear wife,” he said, mimicking your words back to you, his voice sounding almost betrayed that you would think such a thing. Even suggest such a thing. “Besides,” he started, voice dropping an octave in tone and pitch as he moved both hands, the one on your stomach and the one on your cheek, to come and rest on your hips once more. Oberyn’s callused fingers dipped into your hipbone and held tightly, almost too tightly. It barely phased you. “The idea that I could keep my hands, mouth and cock to myself around you is absurd,” he muttered, a wicked grin spread across his face, his dark eyes flashing with lust. It lasted only a moment before the smirk fell, and a serious look appeared upon his face. “However, if you wish to cease—”

You shook your head. “No, no,” you muttered. “I could not do that to you.”

“My love—”

“I’ve already asked too much of you by ceasing our activities with others.”

“Which,” he started softly, “I had no issue forgoing for you, my dove.” He paused and removed on have from your hip. He placed a finger under your chin and pushed up, lifting your head to make sure that your eyes caught his rich, dark orbs. “You have my body, my heart, and my soul. I love you. Whatever you need, I will comply.”

Your heart swelled in your chest. Oberyn partook in every pleasure imaginable, had never denied himself and tried almost every sexual act under the sun. And yet, here he was, willing to forgo sex for you. You knew he loved you, but this? This proved how far he would go for you, the lengths he would go to make sure you were well, that you were content. Whatever you needed, it seemed, he would gladly give it to you. 

“No, Oberyn,” you started and he opened his mouth once more, but you stopped him as you placed a hand on his cheek. “I am — I have no problem continuing our sexual activities.”  

You watched as Oberyn studied you, his dark eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might be hiding the truth from him. After a moment, he seemed content with what he found. He nodded and removed his finger from your chin. “Then, that is settled. But, I think, my dove we may have put too much pressure on ourselves,” he murmured, turning his head into your palm, and pressing a soft kiss to the center of it. “Not that our lovemaking is not pleasurable, it most certainly is, always,” Oberyn said, turning his gaze back to you, slipping on another mischievous smirk his let his free hand come to rest just below your breast. “But, perhaps, we’ve forgotten what it is like to be us,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your neck as you let your hand fall from his cheek and back to your side. “Without pressures.” Another kiss, lips moving down. “Without worries.” And, another, lower. “Only us.” His final kiss landed on your shoulder. “Return to an earlier time, when we had first laid eyes upon each other. Do you remember those days, my love?”

You nodded. You remembered those days vividly; the hours spent walking through the water gardens, talking about everything and nothing. The nights spent together, tangled in each other, exploring each other with hands, lips and teeth. Back then, all you had wanted to do was learn about the man you shared your bed — and soon, your life — with, and he had wanted the same. Oberyn still attended to his duties, as required, but every moment when he was not busy, he was with you and you were with him. 

Then, when you had married, more of your time had become consumed with your own requirements and duties as well as his own. Much of your time together was spent was in the evenings, in your bed in hopes of conceiving a child. 

“Perhaps, my love,” Oberyn started again, “we need to allow ourselves to enjoy each others company, get lost in each other.” A brief pause. “In and out of our bed.” You caught Oberyn’s dark orbs, and him yours. The hand on your ribs was removed, and placed instead upon your cheek. You leaned into his touch. “What do you say, my dove? We do not forgo our dream of one day having a babe of our own. We just,” he paused, for a moment, a thoughtful look in his eye, “allow ourselves not to be pressured or burdened by the notion? Return to simpler times, so to speak?” 

You let your husband’s suggestion mull in your head for a moment. Perhaps, he was right; perhaps the two of you had been too focused on conceiving a child that you had, unintentionally, made sex a burden. Oberyn was not wrong; your times with him were always pleasurable and the two of you never fucked if either of you was in no mood to engage in sex. But when you did, perhaps, the burden was there, always lingering in the back of your mind. That the burden had become an unknown weight upon you, upon Oberyn. It would be nice to silence that burden for a while. 

“My love?”

You blinked and focused your gaze back on Oberyn. His deep brown eyes were studying you, patiently waiting for your response. You smiled softly at him. “You are right, my prince,” you agreed, and you watched as a triumphant look filled his eyes, the corner of his lip ticking up. You narrowed your gaze slightly. “Watch that ego of yours, husband.” Oberyn chuckled lowly and moved to grasp your hips. He pulled you tight against him, a wicked smile on his face.

“Or what, dove? Hm?”

“Or,” you started, lifting arms and wrapping the loosing around his neck and shoulders, “it will get you killed one day.”

Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “Will it now? By whom?”

You held your chin up. “Me.” Oberyn laughed, the sound filling your shared chambers, and now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “You doubt me, my prince?”

“I do not doubt, your strength, my love,” he said through the laughter, which slowly began to die down as the milliseconds passed. “Or your cunning wit. However, I do know that you love me too much to even harm a hair on my head.” He paused and titled his head. “Well, unless in the throes of passion, of course,” he added, another mischievous grin pulling at his lips. “Then well?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It cannot be helped.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but you knew the smile pulling at your lips betrayed you. “Whatever you say, my prince,” you muttered.

Oberyn hummed thoughtfully. You had thought to say something else, but before you could even open your mouth to speak, Oberyn’s lips were on yours, his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. And, you willing granted him entry. His tongue slid harshly against yours, warm, wet and unyielding. A small moan escaped your lips as your arms tightened around his neck, fingers tangling into the curls at the nap of his neck. You used your hold to pull yourself even closer to him, pressing your chest against his as you slipped your thigh between his legs, pressing it against his swelling cock. A low growl escaped his throat, one that was eagerly swallowed by your lips as his grip on your hips tightened.

There was a loud knock at your chamber door.

Oberyn barely pulled away, mumbling, “ignore it,” against your lips before sliding his lips against yours again. And, you had planned to, already lost in the taste of him. However, the moment his tongue had slipped back in to your moth, there was another knock. This time, much louder.

“M’lord?” It was one of the man servants. “Are you in there?”

Oberyn groaned and pulled his lips away from yours reluctantly. “Yes,” he responded, his voice stern, but somewhat out of breath. You smiled. “But.” One of his hands travelled from you hip, up to your side, coming to rest on your breast. He kneaded the flesh, and you let out a soft mewl, heading falling back, eyes closing. “I am very, very busy. So, if you’ll ex—”

“Your presence is requested, m’lord.”

Oberyn rolled his eyes. “By whom?” he asked, but he did not bother to move toward the door to let the servant in, only lowered his head to your neck. He gave the skin at the base of your neck a quick, hard nip. You let out a small yelp of surprise mixed with pleasure as you tugged on Oberyn’s dark locks once more.

You were sure the man servant now knew exactly why Oberyn was busy — or, more accurately, whom he was busy with.

“Your brother, m’lord,” he answered, his voice tight and proper.

Oberyn growled against your skin in irritation before he nipped the skin again, this time worrying the skin for a brief moment. “Oberyn,” you whined, the sound a little louder than a whisper. Another nip in the same area. You were sure you’d have a bruise within the hour. You straightened your neck and opened your eyes. “Oberyn,” you said again, trying to quell the ever growing arousal pooling between your legs. However, his name sounded too breathless and needy on your lips. You glanced down at him the best you could, and saw his dark orbs shining with lust. Oberyn gave a sly smirk.

“M’lord?”

You knew he didn’t want to go, that he would rather lose himself in your body and pleasure. However, you knew that if he did not go now, it would only mean more time away from each other later.

“M’lord? He wishes to speak with you as soon as possible. If you could please open this door, and—”

“Go,” you whispered, ignoring the man servant’s plea, scratching at the back of Oberyn’s neck and giving him a soft smile. “The sooner you meet with him, the sooner you are back in our bed.”

Oberyn raised his head, his eyes watching you closely. The hand resting on your breast slide up and over your shoulder. His callused fingers began to play with the strap on your gown. “And you will be waiting for me?”

“Of course,” you answered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Unless, you’d like to visit the brothel tonight?” Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “It’s been a while, my prince, and that is my fault. I know I asked you, and you willingly followed my request. But, I do not wish to hold you back anymore. If you would like to share a bed again, I am more than willing to share tonight.”

Oberyn leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, but before it could go farther, he was pulling away. He grinned down at you. “Perhaps another night, my dove. Tonight, I plan to keep you.” The hand on your hip slide off and over, his hand cupping your clothed and aching center. A small whimper escaped your lips, and Oberyn’s own lips twisted into a wicked smile. “And, this pretty cunt all to myself tonight.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell, making you shiver. “Make you come undone upon my tongue for hours,” he whispered, the word sending a fresh flood of arousal between your legs.

“Oberyn—” your voice sounded choked, hoarse, needy.

“Before I finally sink into that tight little cunt.” He pulled your earlobe between his teeth, and worried the skin. You groaned, eyes falling closed as you grasped at his upper arm for support. His teeth released your lobe. “And fuck you until the sun rises.”

You bite down on your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape your throat. Oberyn pulled back, hand sliding from your aching center to your hip, and looked at you, that wicked grin still pulling at his lips. “Perhaps—”

“M’lord?” The man servant sounded terse, clearly annoyed that he was still standing outside the door. You glanced at Oberyn to see him roll his eyes, irritation clearly written on his face. “I am sorry, but, I believe—”

“Tell him I will be there in a moment,” Oberyn all but growled through the door at the man servant. You gently swatted at his chest, and gave him a look that silently told him to be nice. Oberyn sighed. “If you would be so kind,” he added, his voice much less demanding as he glanced over his shoulder toward the door.

“Um, I would,” the man started, “but he — he requested that I personally accompany you, Prince Oberyn.”

Oberyn rolled his eyes once more. “Of course he did,” he muttered.

You bite your lip once more, this time trying to stifle a giggle that threatened to erupt. However, it escaped — a meager sound, but a giggle nonetheless. “He knows you all too well, my prince.”

“That he does,” he muttered, and let out another heavy sigh before turning his head and attention back on you. “You’ll be fine, my dove?”

And, you knew what he was asking. He was not just asking if you would be fine while he was away, or if you would be fine for the rest of the day. No, he was asking that and more, much more. Oberyn was asking if you’d be fine from here on out with what you two had agreed upon. Would you really and truly be fine with forgoing your want for a babe? Forgoing the need you had created to conceive a child for the foreseeable future. Were you, for now, fine with only having him in your life? No children, only him, only your prince. Only your husband. Only Oberyn. 

You smiled sweetly, and reached out, placing a hand upon his cheek. “Yes, my love. As long as you promise to stay by my side until one of us takes our dying breath.”

Oberyn smiled, his dark orbs shining brightly with love and adoration for you. He reached out and covered your hand on his cheek with his, squeezing your fingers gently. “Promise.”

You nodded. “Now,” you started, letting your hand slide from his cheek, his fingers still grasping at yours, “go on. Before your brother comes and hunts you down himself.”

Oberyn scoffed, and looked toward the door. “That’ll be the day,” he muttered, and you chuckled softly, shaking your head.

“Go,” you said, voice a little stern as you gently pushed at his shoulder in an attempt to move him toward the door.

Oberyn laughed softly and untangled his fingers from yours. “Fine, my dove, I am going,” he muttered, leaning down to press a soft, quick kiss to your lips. “I will see you in a few hours.” Oberyn took a step back from you, his eyes never leaving yours. He grinned and took another step back. “Make sure you’re ready for me.”

You smirked. “Do not worry about me, my prince. I will be,” you said and he grinned, all teeth and wicked before turning on his heel, and leaving your shared chambers.

The door shut behind him with a resounding thud, but this time, it did not cause you heartache. There was no finality or dread that sank into your bones. It was just the sound of a door opening and closing, as they always do.

Perhaps, you had closed the door on your dreams of having little ones. But, it wasn’t locked; you could open that door once more, when the time was right. Or, perhaps, you’d find another door, another way. However, right now, you would enjoy the idea of a closed door.

taglist (for pedro characters):

@over300books​

[alreadyblondenow]

You make my wishes come true | Kim Doyoung

Kim Doyoung x reader 

▸Fluff, Angst?, Smut ▸ Part of Walking in a Winter Wonderland collab, hosted by @neocitybynight​ and @suh-insane​

Summary: Love moves in mysterious ways but unfortunately for you and Doyoung, an accident has to happen first in order for your hearts to beat for each other. Doyoung lost his best friend, you lost your fiancé. After Taeyong’s passing you and Doyoung fell in love with each other but somehow felt that what you’re doing is wrong. 

Word count: 4,314k

Warnings: Mentions of accident, no decriptions of it. Dead fiancé!taeyong and if you’re not comfortable with it please click away, mentions of depression, mentions of grieve, visit in the cemetery, a lot of kisses, mentions of making out, mentions of sex, crying (tears of joy and sadness), mentions of Ruby, unprotected sex, slight nipple play, overstimulation, soft dom Doyoung?hes so soft that it almost didn’t exist in the smut part haha, mentions of pregnancy and wanting to have a baby. Mentions of the accident after the cut, no descriptions of the accident.

A/N: The gift giving part is very sweet, and fluffy, also the holiday timestamps are fluffy. I know my teaser told you that this will be an angst but I’m just not in the mood to do an angst right now sorry. I think this is my first time writing a long fic for Doyoung? 

For: @notnctu​ From: B 💌

Three years ago you lost your fiancé from an accident. 

You remember that it hurt, you were like a stone when you heard the news. You remember that the room is spinning, you feel very weak and the next thing you know your knees hit the floor and the pain didn’t matter because every bit of your being is focused on the heartache. 

“You okay?” your boyfriend reaches for your hand as he drives you to the cemetery to visit Taeyong. He kisses your knuckles and asked you again the same question. 

“Yes. Sorry, I was spacing out. Last time I’ve been to the cemetery is the day we uhm… buried him. And I just remembered how I got the news that night when, you know…” 

“Yes, I know. I was there” he kisses your knuckles again and again until he earns a giggle from you, hoping that you’re not feeling sad. It’s his idea after all to visit his best friend and he is sorry that he had to drag you into this. Everyone knows that you still miss Taeyong so much, that even if you and Doyoung are together now you still ache for your late fiancé. 

Doyoung loves you to the core and he is the one who helped you all throughout the years. He is the reason you’re smiling again, he is the reason why you can love again. It was never easy for Doyoung to win you like this, even though he’s always busy with building his career, you on the other hand somewhat expect him to be like Taeyong. Which is wrong.  

It has been a series of ups and downs with Doyoung, a never ending try to make the relationship work, and thankfully you two never fight. It’s just disappointment is always present in your relationship and at the end of the day, you two fix it as always. You didn’t mean to disappoint each other, and that is very clear in your relationship.  

Two years without Taeyong, One year with Doyoung

After a month out of the country, Doyoung is very much excited to see you and spend some time with you for the holidays. He didn’t tell you that he was going to your apartment and that he is going to be back for a few weeks because he wanted to surprise you. He made his way inside your apartment quietly with your favorite take out, hoping that you could have dinner together. Even though he is very much sleepy and tired, he would rather not waste his time and spend it with you gladly. 

When he opened the door slowly, as expected you were sleeping and you forgot to turn the TV off. He placed the food on your study table and looked for the remote to turn the TV off before he wakes you up with loving kisses that he is very excited to do. Who would have thought that just looking at the TV can make him feel heartbroken, sad, and disappointed? You weren’t watching a movie, or the news of the day… you were watching old videos of you and your dead fiance, Taeyong. 

“You told me you were fine” he murmurs and proceeds to turn the TV off. 

Not only you were watching the old videos, but you were also looking at some old pictures. The ones you promised never to touch to help yourself heal. And the worst part is... you were wearing Taeyong’s old sweater and the engagement ring again. 

Doyoung wanted to shout and be mad but he is tired, he misses his best friend too, but most importantly he is heartbroken knowing that you’ve been lying to him about missing Taeyong. With a heavy heart, he removed the engagement ring that Taeyong gave you and placed it on the tableside. He remembers how Taeyong was so nervous and happy when they were out buying this ring, too many memories Doyoung thought. That’s why he can’t blame you if you’re still hurting. 

Dinner is long forgotten, he slides under the cover and embraced you like how much he misses you.  

“I’m sorry” you whispered to Doyoung. 

“You’re awake?” he asked happily, and just like that his anger is gone and everything feels fine again. 

“Just now. Felt your embrace- Welcome home Do, I’m sorry for disappointing you again” 

“I’m sorry for disappointing you first. For not being here when you needed me the most” he kissed your forehead and tighten his embrace, “oh look at us, we're snuggled up together like two birds of a feather would be” you both giggled and turned the sad moment into a happy reunion. “What do you want to do for the holidays? I’m yours, I promise” he added.  

“I do have a few things in mind that I want to do with you” you reached for his lips and kiss him with want. You and Doyoung still haven’t had sex since you two started dating, mainly because it feels wrong at the moment and you both feel like Taeyong is watching so you both decided to wait. Until then, it’s always soft and lustful kisses with Doyoung. No more, no less, and you’re both contented with this idea. 

Every time Doyoung is with you everything feels fine and you feel alive again. Doyoung feels the same way, of course, if he could stay with you always he could. He believes that it’s his fault that you’re still hurting and his presence in your life is still not enough that’s why you still miss Taeyong. He tried so many times to quit his job for you, but you always stop him because he worked hard building his career.  

“Okay I need to breathe,” he says, trying to get away from your sweet and hungry kisses. No wonder Taeyong told him that you’re amazing in everything you do. He shook his head and told you, “I have your favorite take out, are you hungry?” 

“Very hungry,” 

The night became sweeter as you two spend some time in the kitchen preparing the dining table together. He tells you about his work, you tell him about yours. The moment is all about you and Doyoung, no mentions of your late fiancé and that’s why you want Doyoung to be always by your side. He makes every pain go away. But lately, you realized that you’re depending too much on Doyoung and he’s doing all the heavy work for you. You’re not helping yourself and that can hurt Doyoung in the future. 

“Listen,” you gulp and ready yourself to tell him what’s on your mind, “I love you” 

But those three words were the only ones that came out of your mouth and not the things that you really want to say. “I know and I get it, I love you too” he kissed your forehead and made you finish your meal. Good thing Doyoung knows you so well and that’s all he needed, to know what you’re truly feeling.  

Thanks to Doyoung, the spirit of Christmas is very much alive in your apartment. This is your first Christmas together as a couple so he decided to stay in your apartment and abandon his own just so he couldn’t waste time being with you. Before Christmas Eve, you and Doyoung made some late Christmas decorating and made some Christmas shopping for your friends and families. 

Two Christmas ago, you can’t even make yourself to force a smile and enjoy the festivities. But now, you’re wrapping gifts on the floor with Doyoung and teaching him how to make a perfect bow tie for the gifts. You watch him hold the red and green ribbon delicately and slowly come closer to him to plant a kiss on his cheek. “What was that for?” obviously he liked it and asked for another one which you gladly gave. 

On Christmas Eve, you and Doyoung enjoyed the Christmas cookies that you baked and the hot chocolate that he made. It was a special moment just for the two of you, cuddling on the couch waiting for the clock to strike twelve while he sings for you. You’re in between his legs, feeling the vibrations against your back while he’s singing, arms wrapped around you, and fingers intertwined. 

When it’s finally time to exchange gifts, you were both nervous about your gifts because truth be told you don’t know each other that deep yet. However, great efforts are done for a perfect first Christmas together. 

“I will completely understand if these are not enough-“ 

“These? How many did you get me?” you giggle as you cut him off.

“Merry Christmas, I love you” he kissed you sweetly on your lips as he hands you his gifts. “Open mine later” he added.

“Okay, my turn then” you grab a small leather box under the tree and hand it to him. “This is so not you, but I figured, you’re always away so if you use this every day, you’ll remember home. I love you, Merry Christmas” 

He opened the leather box and smiled so sweetly at the gift that you gave him, “Here I’ll help you put it” you remove the Rolex watch from the box and showed him the back of it, “From home, I love you” he reads it with teary eyes and in a short span of time, he’s crying and kissing you one too many times. A lot is running in his mind, thinking about how much he loves you and thinking about Taeyong because again, he feels like he stole you from him. 

“I’m sorry, I’m dramatic. Here open this first” he gets one of his gifts and handed it to you. 

As you open the gift with glee, you don’t know if he wrapped the wrong gift or-

“It’s not new. It’s what you think it is” your favorite sweater that he owns. “You love wearing it, wear this instead of wearing Taeyong’s” he helps you wear it quietly as you process what he just said. It’s like a wakeup call that he is the one here beside you now, it’s time to heal. “A-about the ring, let just uhm… wait for the right time for that,” he kissed you again on the lips and reached for the two other gifts that aren’t wrapped. 

“These two are, like, things you can use to cheer yourself up whenever I’m away and whenever you miss me” it’s a video of him singing several songs for you to watch, and a plane ticket to where his work is taking him next. 

“Doyoung, these are perfect” you were completely speechless, in tears, and happy because he was right, he understands you and he knows you miss him whenever he’s away. 

“I told you, I get it” he smirked to cheer you up, “now enough crying. Let’s call your parents and my parents, let’s greet them together” 

And so your first Christmas with Doyoung was peaceful and full of love, meaningful and unforgettable. You wish to have more Christmas with this man holding your hand while he dials his mother’s phone number with one hand. For the first time, you don’t feel like Taeyong is going to be mad about seeing you and Doyoung, you feel like he is the one who brought you together so you could take care of each other. 

Present time, Two years with Doyoung

After visiting your late fiance, you left Doyoung alone with Taeyong to respect their friendship and to give Doyoung some privacy. He can be very sincere and private with these things and especially when it comes to Taeyong. While waiting for your boyfriend inside the car, you were looking for a bottle of water and looked inside the console only to be surprised with a small velvet box with a diamond ring inside it. 

The night Taeyong asked you to marry him flashes back in your mind like a movie. You didn’t want to be engaged again, it’s too soon you have to say no. But Doyoung doesn’t deserve that so you silently wish that he won’t propose soon. 

Hey, how are you up there? I’m sure you and Ruby are having a great time. Ruby, please take care of our Taeyong up there, hmm? And…I will take care of Y/n, down here. We’ve been together for more than a year now. I know you won’t let me apologize but hyung, I’m sorry. Love is unexpected and I’ve been taking care of her since you’ve been away and it just happened. 

I love her, hyung. I know you’re happy for us. I wish I could be you hyung, I wish I could make her happy too, I wish I could ask her to marry me someday too. But I always disappoint her hyung, and that’s holding me back.

Doyoung says goodbye to Taeyong after saying his honest feelings to his best friend, and as you see your boyfriend walking towards the car, you quickly put the velvet box inside the console and pretend that you didn’t see anything or something that will change your life. “So… where do you want to eat? Home? I can cook” you quickly lightened up the mood for him because it’s obvious that he cried. 

“Sounds perfect,” he says and started the engine to drive back home. It was silent the whole drive, as expected, but it’s a comfortable silence. 

A lot has happened in your two-year relationship already, although it was always on a slow pace, no one actually cared as long you still have each other. As part of moving on from Taeyong’s death together, you and Doyoung decided to live together and so he moved in with you. Soon, sex is present in your relationship even though sometimes you can’t help but remember the nights you have with Taeyong. Nonetheless, living together both gave you a fresh start and an opportunity to build your own story. 

You made dinner while Doyoung makes a few calls and finish some paperwork in the living room. He didn’t notice you were spacing out but he noticed you were quiet. You waited for him to pop the question, expect him to get on one knee any minute but he shows no sign of it. 

“You saw something, didn’t you?” he finally blurted out. It was just a wild guess, he wasn’t sure that you saw the ring from the console but he had a hunch. 

“Yes” you nod awkwardly with a sly smile, “and it’s beautiful, not to mention big” 

So he guessed right. He stopped eating and smiled at you before reaching your hand, “I’m desperate to make you happy that’s why. I bought it because I missed you and I saw how you were so happy that night when Taeyong proposed to you. I wish to make you happy like that-“ 

“But you do make me happy,” you said sternly. 

“Not enough. We will get there” he kissed you on your forehead and told you, “Eat up and don’t be anxious. I’m not mad you saw it and I most certainly not going to ask you to marry me when I know you’re not yet ready” he winked and continue eating.

“But you will someday, right?” you have to ask him that so he knows you love him so much that you wanted forever with him. 

“Of course, now eat your food its getting cold” 

After that much needed conversation with Doyoung, you started slowly with building your life back and bring the old you back. It’s not easy to bring your established like back after abandoning it for almost two years, but slowly and with Doyoung by your side you believe that it's possible. Progress may be slow when it comes to healing but at least you try and continue to live.

You started with self love and the little things that speak change. You got a haircut which Doyoung really loved, you bought new clothes and donated the old ones, and with every courage you have, you store every little thing that Taeyong gave you in a special box and kept it safely in the storage room. You now understand that he can live forever in your heart and you don’t need to see the things that he gave to you just so you can feel his presence again.  

Whenever Doyoung is away for work, you didn’t succumb to sadness and shut yourself out from the outside world. This time, you focus on the things that are in front of you and cherish them. Having an outlet for support and comfort is important, and whenever Doyoung is away, that role would be perfect for your family. You visit them every week and spend time with them as much as you can. But when Doyoung is home, you shower him with love and attention that he deserves and never waste a minute you can have with him.  

Even if it’s hard to move on from your established relationship with Taeyong, slowly you accept that Taeyong is gone and Doyoung is the one loving you now.  

Three years with Doyoung 

That’s what Christmas memories are made from. They’re not planned, they’re not scheduled, nobody puts them in their Blackberry. They just happen. - Deck the Halls, 2006 

It’s Christmas season again and Doyoung will be home in a few hours and you make sure to busy yourself and welcome him home warmly with lots of food and an apartment full of Christmas decorations. It’s challenging to level to with Doyoung’s sweetness but you really really want to try and welcome him properly. 

While you were waiting for Doyoung, you accidentally dozed off while you were watching Netflix and completely missed his grand entrance. He was happy that the place looks good and you managed to put the decorations all by yourself and waited for him to get home to put the Christmas tree together. Not to mention the place smells good and it made him hungry. 

He woke you up with kisses until you realize that you’re not having a dream and welcome him with a tight embrace. “I was supposed to welcome you, but I dozed off. Sorry” you cup his face and kissed him lovingly. He smells like fresh breeze and car air freshener at the same time, that’s the smell of home for you now. You smile in between the kiss and tug his coat and pants, telling him to take them off because you need him and in a few minutes you’re both in bed naked and grinding on each other. 

“It’s good that you’re in the mood” he groans as he kisses your neck, touching your body like how you want him to, kneading your boobs and brushing his fingers softly on your nipples to make it hard. He feels you spreading your legs and rolling your hips under him and feel his hard cock, he gets the message of course and lines his cock in your entrance. He kissed you on the lips, nipping your lower lip and sucking your tongue as he pushes inside, making you whine and hold onto him as he continues to put his whole cock inside you. “tight- you’re so tight” he took his time feeling your tight walls as you clench and unclench with heavy breaths and sharp gasps as he rolls his hips oh so slowly. The motion of his thrust just makes you grip his shoulders tightly because it feels so fucking good. 

During the slow thrust, he kissed you down from your lips, neck, chest, and suck your boobs to help you put on edge. You let out an airy moan and you feel Doyoung smile in between sucking. Your hand rakes his soft locks as you enjoy and every bit of what he’s doing to you but he reaches for your hand and puts it above your head. He pulls away from your body, pinned your arms on top of you, and said, “keep your legs open” in a very low and sex tone, before he kisses you hungrily and double his pace. You hear skin slapping surrounds the room and your eyebrows starting to furrow because you’re getting near. Doyoung slams his cock inside you and put his right thumb on your clit without any warning which made you close your legs, he removes it in an instant and pinched your nipples making you sensitive, and let out a whine. 

“Come on I miss you, don’t close your legs” he kissed you again before he returns his thumb to your clit and overstimulates you, putting more pressure on his thumb as he continues to fuck you. Your legs were giving up and you feel so fucking weak but it feels great to have Doyoung do this to you. 

You smiled through your orgasm and Doyoung stopped overstimulating you but touched your body oh so softly with his cold fingers, as you shiver on sensitivity. 

“Ride me? Hmm?” he requests he continues to touch you and feel your legs shake. You can only nod in approval because you’re still high from your orgasm and you’re really tired, but this is your chance to return the favor to him. He switched your bodies and lie comfortably underneath you, caressing your arms and thighs until you’re ready to move.

To get the ball running, you licked his nipples like what he did to you which caught him off guard because that is the first time you did it to him. He smiles and whispered near your ear that he liked it so you continue to do a great job and made his nipples swollen until you have the strength to ride him. 

You removed his cock from your pussy and kissed him for a few minutes, annoying him because it’s obvious that he’s needy tonight. “Since when did you learn how to tease? That’s my job” he reached for your hands and put them on his chest so he can caress your arm while you ride him. You sink on his cock slowly like how he put his cock earlier and he was smirking the whole time because he finally realized that you’re doing everything he did to you. “You’re in trouble,” he says but he was breathing heavily now because you started rolling your hips slowly. 

“I just missed you baby that’s all” you smiled at him so sweetly and it made him flustered. 

You rolled your hips slowly until he’s losing his mind underneath you. Swearing and closing his eyes, parting his lips and letting out beautiful moans. “You sound good Kim Doyoung, as always” you reached for his lips and double your pace, putting him on edge in an instant and moaning so loud until his toes curled and his hands are on your hips and he’s thrusting upwards, shooting his cum inside you, every bit of it. 

He became instantly weak and sensitive but you didn’t take advantage of that. Instead, you surprise him with your Christmas wish. You came closer to him and lay comfortably on top of him while his cock is still inside you, you feel his hand swing behind you and caress your back like he’s telling you to give him a few minutes. 

“I want a baby” 

You blurted out and shock your boyfriend completely, he looked directly into your eyes and let out a small laugh. “Okay stop taking pills from now on- or you already did?” his eyes went big when you gave him a devious smile. 

“Y-you…” he was speechless but he looks happy, “Okay. Let’s have a baby, if you get pregnant then- wow, just wow.”

“How about you, what’s your Christmas wish?” you waited for his answer with a smile, hoping that he’ll ask you to marry him now. 

“I’m not going to ask you to marry me while my cock is still inside you, if that’s what you’re thinking” You both burst into laughter and you remove his cock inside you and lay beside him, cum dripping on your folds and your body is still sensitive. 

“Still no. But yes, asking you to marry me is my Christmas wish. And I think it already came true, because clearly you will say ‘yes’” he kissed your hand and you told him, you love him and asked if he’s hungry. That night, you and Doyoung ate a lot of good food, attempted Netflix and chill but soon turned out to making out and having sex again. 

The next day, you spent the entire day finding the perfect tree from the stores and spent the whole night decorating the Christmas tree. It has been your tradition to put up a Christmas tree together ever since you two happened and it was always a great time. When you’re all done and you’re both relaxed on the couch with two mugs of hot chocolate on the table, Doyoung thought that this may be a perfect time because it’s quiet and it’s just the two of you. 

You felt him caress your hand and you notice he’s been looking at it, “your hand looks better with a diamond ring on it” he says, and without any warning, he put the ring on your finger and just looked at you. It was nothing extra like how Taeyong did it, but while he was slipping the ring on your finger, you remember every situation you faced together, all the tough times, all the crying, and all the disappointment but you stayed together. 

And that’s what makes this proposal special. 

“Yes” you said quietly, your heart is full of happiness and joy that you’re speechless, and all you can do it cry tears of joy. 

“I know” he kept you close and kissed you, “wish came true” he smiled and kissed the ring on your finger.  

[havenoffandoms]

Just Fine (Aiden/Lambert)

Based on Kashimalin’s 50 Types of Kisses Prompt List

Read on Ao3

Prompt:  “Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips.”

Summary: 

Today is the day. Lambert knows he should feel more excited at the thought of his boyfriend returning home, to the safety of Lambert’s embrace, but he can’t help the anxiety building inside him and twisting his stomach in a way he doesn’t care for in the least.

Lambert knows that he should be excited, but the sentiment is tarnished by his crippling anxiety, and he feels like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Warnings: mention of amputation, modern AU

“So, today’s the day, huh?” Eskel smirks as he watches Lambert positively vibrating with excitement where he’s sat on a chair opposite Eskel. The coffee shop is mostly empty, save for another couple in the corner exchanging kisses and giggling carelessly as they rejoice in their puppy love. Lambert chose this place because it’s closest to the airport, but admittedly the place isn’t half-bad and the coffee doesn’t taste like piss.

“Stop that, it’s creepy,” Lambert grouses as he stuffs another forkful of chocolate cake into his mouth. When he notices Eskel’s confused frown, Lambert rolls his eyes and adds pointedly, “you, being all excited on my behalf. That’s unnatural. Stop it.”

“Whatever.” Eskel takes a sip of his tea - because Eskel is the kind of person who likes to drink tea for fun - before levelling Lambert with a look that the latter knows all too well. “You’re allowed to be excited about his return, you know? It’s been a year since he-”

“I know,” Lambert quickly interrupts before Eskel has a chance to finish his sentence, “I am excited.”

“Tell your face, then.”

“Shut up, prick.”

“It’s gonna be fine, Lambert.” Eskel reaches across the table to squeeze Lambert’s clammy hand. “I know you’re worried because of his injury, but you’ll both figure it out together. You don’t love him any less for it, right?”

“Of course not,” Lambert snaps in response as he snatches his hand away, angry at the mere suggestion that his feelings for Aiden would disappear for something as superficial as a physical injury, “of course I don’t love him any less for it. It’s just…”

Eskel doesn’t press him, and Lambert is grateful for that. Truth be told, he’s not entirely sure why he feels so anxious at the thought of seeing Aiden again. It’s been a long year without his boyfriend there to warm his bed and his life. Aiden is the life of Lambert’s entire life, and a year without him felt like the longest time. A whole year went by since Aiden was deployed and has been fighting overseas, taking part in a war that has lost all meaning. He missed birthdays, holidays spent with family around a hearty meal, milestone anniversaries... A year of Lambert staying up late at night, calling Aiden whenever his connection permitted it or writing letters to send his boyfriend when speaking to him proved too difficult. A year of Lambert switching the TV or radio on every morning before heading to work, listening for the announcements and hoping he wouldn’t hear Aiden’s name listed among the soldiers that perished as part of this senseless war.

Just over a week ago, Aiden called Lambert from a military hospital overseas a short two days after he was involved in an explosion that cost the lives of hundreds of civilians and soldiers alike. While Aiden survived the blast, he sustained a considerable injury to his leg. The doctors couldn’t save it, Aiden told Lambert over the phone, the leg had to come off. Lambert remembered crying on the phone that night, not because he mourned the loss of Aiden’s leg - they were tears of relief because Aiden came this close to dying in the blast that killed so many people. Lambert came this close to losing the most important person in his life. Come home, baby, Lambert remembered begging Aiden over the phone, I need you to come home. Today is the day. Lambert knows he should feel more excited at the thought of his boyfriend returning home, to the safety of Lambert’s embrace, but he can’t help the anxiety building inside him and twisting his stomach in a way he doesn’t care for in the least. As a result of the injury he suffered, Aiden had to retire from the military early. While Lambert was happy to have his boyfriend return to him, he knew that Aiden struggled with the thought of retiring at the prime of his career. Not only is he out of a job, but his job prospects are not looking too bright, either. Aiden will have to spend time in physiotherapy, physical rehabilitation courses, counselling… Lambert knows the next months will be tough on his boyfriend.

Lambert knows that he should be excited, but the sentiment is tarnished by his crippling anxiety, and he feels like the worst boyfriend in the world.

“It’s gonna be just fine, Lamb.” Eskel sounds so sure, so confident, that Lambert is almost inclined to believe him. “I promise, brother. You and Aiden will be just fine.”

“I hope you’re right, Kel.”

The drive to the airport is longer than Lambert remembers it being. The car is filled with the sound of heavy rock and heavy metal, the loud emphatic beats and distorted guitar solos washing over Lambert in calming waves. His brothers call him weird for finding this kind of music ‘soothing’, but it works for him, so his brothers can kiss his ass. The sun is beating down on the world below, forcing Lambert to crank up the A/C in the car. He drives along miles of barbed wire, “KEEP OUT” signs and parked aircraft. Lambert checks the time on his dashboard and realises that he’s a whole half an hour early. It isn’t exactly unheard of for soldiers’ families to arrive early and prepare for their loved one’s arrival - either by setting up signs, powdering their noses or getting the children to practice a welcome home song to celebrate their parents’ triumphant return. Lambert usually just waits in the shadows until Aiden comes into view, at which point he pulls his boyfriend close to him so they can get reacquainted away from prying eyes.

Lambert pulls into the airport multistorey parking complex, and thankfully he doesn’t have to spend ages looking for a parking space. As he pulls up into a tight space, Lambert’s heart sinks in his chest. Aiden will probably be travelling in a wheelchair - and he will be using one for a while, at least until he gets his prosthetic leg fitted. There’s no way in hell that Aiden will be able to comfortably step into the car if Lambert stays parked in this spot, but what other choice does he have? He doesn’t have a disabled parking permit yet, but Lambert guesses that’s something they’ll have to think about now. Until then, all he can do is park further away from the door and hope that no one will use the bay next to the passenger side so Aiden has enough space to move comfortably. So that’s precisely what he does. Shit, is Lambert overthinking this? Is he looking for problems where there are none? The last thing he wants is to tiptoe around Aiden’s disability. The last thing he wants is to make Aiden feel like things have changed because he lost his leg.

Shit. Why is he crying now? He should be excited, goddammit.

Lambert angrily wipes the tears and steps out of the car. They’ll be just fine, that’s what Eskel said. Eskel sounded so confident, so sure of himself, but hell, what if he’s wrong? What if Aiden leaves Lambert? What if Aiden pushes Lambert away? It was probably a mistake to read up all those army wives’ blogs and the nightmarish stories about husbands shutting down and falling into depression after sustaining a serious injury. Shit, what if Lambert isn’t good enough? What if Aiden thinks that Lambert is a lousy boyfriend who can’t take well enough care of him?

Deep breaths, Lambert. In, out. In, out. In-

Shit, why are there so many people in this fucking airport? Lambert stands in his usual corner, shying away from the crowds, averting everyone’s eyes as he stares at his phone. He shoots his brothers a text in their group chat - Have I ever told u guys how much I h8 crowds? - hoping that they will understand and distract him from the panic welling up in his chest. As he waits for an answer from either Geralt or Eskel, Lambert switches to his Facebook app and scrolls through his feed. He doesn’t have to wait long until the group chat pings with Geralt’s response.

G: You’ve mentioned it once or twice… or 100

Lambert snorts as he shoots a sassy comeback.

So mentioning it 1 more time won’t hurt. I fucking h8 goddamn crowds.

A quick glance at the arrivals screen tells Lambert that Aiden’s plane landed a few short minutes ago. Not long before they are reunited and able to hug it out in the middle of the airport. At this point, Lambert doesn’t give a shit anymore about what other people think of them. He almost lost Aiden, so he will go on his knees and hug him, wheelchair be damned. Lambert looks around him and sees many families and loved ones itching to welcome the soldiers back. Some of them brought flowers, or the puppy they bought last week as a welcome-home present, and even newborn babies. Lambert wonders if he should have bought Aiden a gift to commemorate the beginning of his retirement. He feels like that would be in bad taste considering Aiden’s feelings on the matter.

The first soldiers start to filter through the door, eyes scanning the room and lighting up when they land on familiar faces. Many people cry tears of joy and relief, others manage to keep a modicum of composure, and some even let out shrill cries of joy as they are finally reunited with the people they love and cherish the most. There is still no sight of Aiden and part of Lambert worries that something happened to him in the week it took the military to organise his repatriation. Feeling the panic well up in him again, Lambert pulls out his phone and opens the group chat window. L: What if he doesn’t come back?

It doesn’t take long for his phone to vibrate with Eskel’s response.

E: As if he’d pass up an opportunity to come back to his pain in the ass boyfriend.

L: Ass.

G: He’ll come back, Lamb. He’ll come back and he’s not leaving again.

Lambert takes a deep breath as he lets these words run through his mind. Aiden is coming back. He’s coming back. He’s-

“Why, hello there,” a familiar voice breaks through the storm raging in Lambert’s head, “come here often?”

Aiden looks so… so like himself. He’s sporting that familiar cocksure grin and his eyes shimmer with all the emotions he can’t bring himself to voice. His voice sounds so self-assured, even though Lambert knows he’s only a breath away from losing it and crying tears of relief. His hair is slightly longer and Lambert can make out the familiar dark curls he loves so much. Aiden looks so much like his old self that Lambert forgets, for a short minute, that he’s missing the lower half of his left leg entirely.

“Aiden. You’re here.”

“No place I’d rather be.”

Lambert doesn’t feel himself fall to his knees until they hit the solid surface of the airport floor, cracking in protest at the impact. He lunges forward and wraps his arms around Aiden’s middle, squeezing tightly and burying his face in his boyfriend’s stomach. He’s unable to bite back the tears this time, and if Aiden notices that the soft material of his t-shirt is soaked right through, he doesn’t draw attention to it. Instead, he cards his fingers through Lambert’s short hair, softly shushing him and whispering heartfelt reassurances in the air pocket between them.

“I’m here, baby,” Aiden tells him over and over, “I’m back. I’m here, sweetheart. I love you.”

“I missed you,” Lambert hears himself say, “I missed you. I was so scared, Aiden, you don’t understand-”

“I’m here, Lamb. I’m here. You don’t have to be scared, anymore.”

They’ve got so much shit to figure out, Lambert knows. They need to think about all the adjustments they need to make to their lives, all the paperwork they’ll have to fill out, therapy sessions they have to book and medical insurance they need to update. All these things that terrified Lambert a few hours earlier, all these plans that made panic well in him and want to run for the hills… all these worries weighing him down disappear the second Lambert feels Aiden’s arms around him, squeezing him, comforting him.

“I’m not scared,” Lambert assures Aiden, pulling back and straightening up so he can place a soft kiss on Aiden’s lips. They still feel the same against his own, they still taste the same, too. Nothing has changed. Aiden is still Aiden. “Not anymore.”

“Anymore?” There’s a teasing edge in Aiden’s voice, a mocking grin tugging at his lips. “Ah, kitten. You don’t have to worry about a thing. I gotcha. Now shut up and kiss me again.”

Lambert happily obliges Aiden’s request. Their lips slot against each other like they didn’t just spend a year apart. Their kiss is tender and soft at first, but Lambert is quick to deepen it by licking Aiden’s bottom lip. Neither of them cares about the potential eyes on him - nobody is likely to pay attention to them, not when they’re all lost in the joy of being reunited with their own family members. Lambert breaks the kiss briefly to whisper a soft ‘I love you’ to Aiden. His cheeks turn red as he speaks those three words which still feel too intimate to be loudly proclaimed in public, even after all these years. Aiden steals another kiss before reciprocating the sentiment, his breath ghosting over Lambert’s lips and sending a peasant shiver coursing through his body.

They have lots of shit to figure out, but Aiden is here and he’s not going anywhere. Aiden is here, and neither of them has to deal with the situation on their own. They’ll be just fine. Everything will be just fine.

[spencers-renaissance]

You Said You’d Never Smile Again

Summary: “At one point, we had a conversation about how hard Spencer was finding life after prison and he told me that he didn’t think he’d ever smile again. And so, I made it my mission to prove Dr Spencer Reid wrong for the first time in his life.”

Tags: weddings, speeches, tooth-rotting fluff, insecure luke, post-prison spencer, implied/referenced depression, crying, found family 

Pairing: Luke Alvez x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Spencer’s never looked more beautiful, Luke thinks, as they sit in the botanical hall of this ancient museum on their wedding day surrounded by everybody they love so dearly. They’d decided to have Emily officiate, neither of them desiring their relationship to have anything to do with a Church, and had read their vows to one another stood under an arch threaded with ivy and Spencer’s favourite flowers. An elegant gold band settles around his fourth finger like it was always supposed to be there, the outward expression of his utter devotion to the love of his life. Dr and Mr Alvez-Reid.

Glancing at his husband to check he’s ready, he taps his spoon against his glass as the meal draws to a close, gaining the attention of their guests as he stands up, microphone in hand, ready to deliver his wedding speech. They’d decided to exchange simple vows and then deliver longer speeches at the reception, so he pulls out the creased piece of paper he’s folded and unfolded countless times over the past few days. His hands only shake a little bit.

“Spencer,” Luke says, because it feels like a good place to start, “when I first met you, I wasn’t sure how I was going to survive at the BAU working alongside someone as breathtaking and irresistible as you, not being able to do anything about it. Well, thankfully, we both grew some balls and eventually did do something about it — obviously, since we’re stood here on our wedding day…” He’s interrupted briefly by a collective chuckle from their friends and family, and both he and Spencer can’t resist a giggle either, when they catch each other’s eye.

“But what perhaps isn’t so obvious, is just how that came about.

“As everyone here knows all too well, Spencer was falsely accused of a crime five years ago, and spent six months in prison. I won't go into it because that's not something he needs to relive on his wedding day, but thanks to the wonderful work of everyone in the BAU — who we both love so much — he was freed. When he got out, though, he, understandably, had a really hard time. At one point, we had a conversation about it and he told me that he wasn't sure he'd ever smile again.

“And so... I made it my mission to prove Dr Spencer Reid wrong for the first time in his life.”

He looks up to see the enraptured faces of his loved ones, and smiles a little at the sight of Penelope already in tears, sitting next to a fond looking Derek. Hotch and Rossi are sat next to them, looking rather appropriately like the proud father figures they are to Spencer. He’d hardly worked with Hotch before he’d had to leave for the Witness Protection Program, but when he’d met him again, this time as the boyfriend of the man he sees as another son, he’d been absolutely terrified. Thankfully, Hotch couldn’t be happier for the two of them, and Rossi had been the first to actually figure out his crush on Spencer, urging him right from the beginning to just say something.

Spencer is already teary, looking fondly up at Luke as he tells everyone just how madly in love with him he is.

He soldiers on, keeping his voice as light and steady as possible for this part of the speech. “The thing is, I'd never been very good at anything until I met Spencer. I was rubbish in school, always lagging behind, and that didn't really change when I left. I found my place in life eventually, hunting criminals — first in the Fugitive Task Force, and later in the BAU — but before then I was utterly directionless, and didn't even feel completely secure until I did join the current team.

“Spencer will confirm I can't even make toast without burning it, and I’m a completely horrible liar. As you will see when we have our first dance later, I have never in my life met a dance floor that ever did me any good. I actually can't change a flat tyre — contrary to how it might look, it's always Spencer who gets burdened with that job — and I'm useless with any sort of DIY.”

Everyone laughs again, and Luke takes it as a sign it’s going over okay so far, especially when his husband giggles wetly at the reminder of just how useless he can be at some things. It’s always amused him how incapable Luke is at making any sort of food — not that Spencer is exactly Gordon Ramsey, as he likes to point out — and the first time they’d gone out together, Spencer had enjoyed laughing fondly at his dad dance moves far more than actually dancing himself.

“Before I came to the BAU I was… insecure. I thought that I was unworthy, good for nothing, because I was absolutely terrible at so many of these general adult life skills,” he continues, a laugh in his voice as he recounts his awful thought patterns, and everyone else follows suit. “But as I said, I was determined to make Spencer smile. More than anything, I wanted the man I was slowly falling in love with to be happy again. I had no ulterior motive. I had no expectations. I had no hope for anything beyond an eventual grin.”

Penelope is officially in bits by this point, crying quietly into Derek’s shoulder, and JJ is smiling fondly as tears stream down her face too, gripping Emily’s hand tightly as both their wedding rings glint in the light flooding through the skylights in the high, beautifully decorated ceiling. They’d tied the knot the year before, a simple ceremony in a local hotel with only the team and close family in attendance. JJ had been a lifesaver during the wedding planning, knowing all the best vendors and ways to cut costs in every place possible.

He turns his attention back to his speech. “I thought long and hard about my mission. I had one last hail Mary. One boring winter morning, I woke up early enough to come in at the same time as Spencer, and I bought him a black coffee, a stack of pancakes and a croissant, and that was it. The most blindingly beautiful smile I think I've ever seen.” He can’t help but grin himself at the recollection of seeing that smile the first time, and when he looks to his left, Spencer’s expression is matching his. He directs the next line to his husband.

“And I remember exactly what I thought in that moment, the first time I made you smile: finally. Finally, something I'm good at.” Spencer’s face crumples at that, unable to contain his emotion any longer, and Luke can’t resist bending down and hooking a finger under his chin before kissing him, lips salty with tears. “I love you,” he whispers, and Spencer takes a deep breath, calming himself down enough for Luke to continue.

“Naturally, I didn't stop there and that's how we're standing here today, but if there's one thing I love about Spencer it's that since that moment, I have never felt inadequate. I have never felt not good enough, and that's because of how he makes me feel. He wakes up every day and makes me feel worth it. I don't know how I ended up with him, what brilliantly kind act I must have performed to earn this kind of karma, but he's shown me every single day that I deserve it, and if you'd asked me before that day when we ate sticky pancakes together in a virtually empty FBI building, talking about nothing and everything, I would have said I didn’t.”

He turns back to his husband, feeling his own emotion start to bubble over, as though his heart can’t hold just how much love he has for him anymore, and a tear streams down his face.

“So, Spencer, I am so grateful and still completely bewildered by how we ended up here, officially husband and husband, but I want you to know how thankful I am to you for your endless faith in me. I love you.”

And with that, Spencer’s on his feet, kissing him. “I love you so much,” Luke whispers as they pull away, bringing a thumb to Spencer’s cheek and brushing away a stray tear. “I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Well, you do,” he laughs wetly, “and I couldn’t be happier about it.”

Luke presses his forehead to Spencer’s for just a moment, looking deep into those hazel eyes he’s loved for so many years, trying as hard as he can to telepathically communicate all the love his bursting heart holds.

Spencer’s wide smile as they pull away to turn back to their guests tells him he already knows.

@strippersenseii @criminalmindsvibez @pretty-b0yy

(@ssa-lukealvez​)

[eyeofthedrgn]

A Heavy Battle Symphony Chapter 8

Catch up here >> AHBS Masterlist

TW: language, mental abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, violence, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, self harm, self-esteem issues, sexual abuse (only alluded to briefly in future chapters), drinking (comes up late in the story) just a lot of trauma, angst, smut - lots of lovely gay smut

Word count: 1739

Notes: This chapter is slightly graphic on the physical abuse. It's only like two lines, but I wanted to make it known.

Chapter 8 - Sorry for Now

After a while you may forget

But just in case the memories cross your mind

You couldn't know this when I left

Under the fire of your angry eyes

I never wanted to say goodbye

Four months, thirteen days, and ten hours, not that he was counting, since he left. Since the dark haired boy had walked away, leaving Rowan standing on the sidewalk. Since his mind spiraled out of control, and it felt like part of him died.

Rowan had been seeing a therapist for the last three months. It had helped, somewhat. At least he could function as a relatively normal human being again, when he was around people anyway. Most of the time. He almost didn't graduate. Thankfully, his mom, his friend group, and his therapist had helped him get through it.

But all in all, Rowan felt empty. Somehow his heart was broken. He hadn't realized someone could get so attached to someone so fast even though they never really talked or hung out. Maybe it was because they shared such vulnerabilities with each other that day in the park or there really was such a thing as a soulmate and his just left him. Either way, he was broken inside. Yet, he still went to parties with his friends, hung out, but he wasn't always present. Everyone noticed the vacant stares, but they usually left it alone. They all knew the general gist of what happened that day, but they could never understand the emotional gravity well that that day had caused. No one knew that Rowan had fallen for the other boy.

Except the ever observant Elide. She noticed everything. The way Rowan spoke about Lorcan, the way his eyes lit up when he saw the other boy walking down the hall, and the small looks they both shared on cast signing day.

But nobody had seen Lorcan after he had walked away. He never came back to school. No one knew what to think. Most assumed they moved again and they left it at that. Rowan assumed the worst after seeing Lorcan's bruises and him basically saying this was a usual occurrence.

Rowan was brought back to the present when a beach ball hit him in the head. He was sitting on the edge of Aelin's pool, sulking, feet dangling in the water. Aelin was throwing one of her parties, it was nearly the end of summer and soon most of them would head off to college. The noises from his friends finally filtering back into his head, it was suddenly too loud, too bright, and too hot. He ran a hand down his face.

Fenrys had been the beach ball throwing culprit, Rowan just glared at him.

"Come on, Ro. Try and have some fun?" Fen had swam over to Rowan and crossed his arms over the edge of the pool. The roguish blond just wanted him to be happy.

“I’m sorry.” He said that a lot now. Fenrys just raised an eyebrow at the boy… man.

He was eighteen now and he wasn't that scrawny, nerdy looking boy anymore. Rowan supposed that was one good thing that came out of Lorcan leaving, he got addicted to working out. There was a punching bag set up in the garage with some weights. He was fit now, muscles defined, but not bulky.

Elide walked up and mussed up his hair. "Come help me get some drinks." She didn't leave any room for argument.

In the kitchen, Elide just leaned forward on the island and looked at Rowan.

"I thought we were getting drinks."

"Yeah, we will. But-"

"But what?" He really didn't mean to say that with such an attitude, but he was hot and emotionally exhausted. Honestly, he just wanted to go home.

Elide was on her phone, waiting for him to chill. Taking a deep breath he said, "I'm sorry. What did you want to talk about?" Rowan was trying, he really was. She just slid her phone over the counter towards him. He furrowed his brows as he looked at the article on the screen.

Consultants for Erawan Enterprises arrested on counts of fraud, child abuse, human trafficking, and other illicit activities

"What's this?" He had no idea what this was about. Why would he care about Erawan Enterprises?

He picked up the phone and kept reading since Elide clearly wasn’t going to answer. It was short and there was a photo of a devastatingly beautiful woman with dark as night hair, that reminded him of Lorcan, and alabaster skin in handcuffs being pushed into a cop car and a very angry man shoved against the hood of the same car.

Maeve Valgerian and James Perrington were arrested Wednesday night. After some anonymous tips to the Morath Police.

"Who are these people?" Rowan didn't understand.

"Pretty sure she's Lorcan's aunt."

Oh.

Rowan had searched for Lorcan online after he disappeared, but there was literally nothing. Absolutely zero results. It was like he was a ghost.

They were consultants for Erawan Enterprises and moved all over the world for the very powerful man. Erawan Enterprises is under investigation for fraud, money laundering, and human trafficking.

After Valgerian and Perrington were arrested, MPD searched their residence and found incriminating evidence against them.

There was also a teenager held captive in the basement. They were taken to the nearest hospital with severely critical injuries. The name and gender of this individual will not be released for their safety.

The article was published nearly two months ago.

Human trafficking…

Held captive...

Severely critical injuries...

"Please, don't break my phone." He was squeezing the device and didn't realize it. Quickly handing it back to her, his hand went straight to his hair.

“Are you sure this is his aunt?”

“Well, not 100%, but they have physical similarities and their hair…” she trailed off. “And Lorcan had mentioned his aunt’s boyfriend living with them one day in class.”

"Fuck!" He felt like he wanted to rip his hair out.

"Ro." Elide's voice was quiet.

"FUCK!"

After a couple deep breaths, he ran his hands down his face, and then turned to face his friend. "Is he dead?" His voice cracked.

"I don't know. All of the other articles I could find are just about them and Erawan Enterprises. No mentions of Lorcan. Anywhere. It's like he doesn't exist."

Elide pulled him into a hug and he broke.

---

Lorcan had been through shit show after shit show since he left the Whitethorn house. As soon as he returned to the apartment, it was packed up into a moving van and they were gone.

They were in Fenharrow for a couple months. Maeve didn't enroll him in school. He was locked in the basement of the small house they rented, it felt like he had gone crazy. He hadn't seen the sun until they moved again. His skin turned a sickly gray. By the time they moved again, he could feel every one of his ribs, and his hips stuck out, his fingers overlapping when wrapped around his wrist.

Next move was to Morath. Lorcan didn't know if he would survive. He didn’t have a good feeling about this place. The basement became his home yet again. It was filthy. There were thick iron hooks in opposite walls and chains hanging from them. This was where he was going to die. He closed his eyes as Perrington latched the shackles around his wrists.

---

One day, Lorcan heard sirens intermittently. He kept passing out. He wasn't even sure he was hearing sirens or if it was just a ringing in his ears. They were always ringing nowadays. A punch to his face made his vision flicker. Blood and saliva leaked from his mouth as his head rolled down to his chest.

The ringing in his ears got louder. There definitely weren't sirens. No one was going to save him. He was going to die here. He knew it. It was what he deserved. The bastard born half-breed that no one cared about, left to die in his own filth in a disgusting basement. The world slowly faded to black.

---

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

He was in Hel. He had to be.

Beep.

The incessant beeping was there to drive him insane. And the smell of bleach was there to make him sick.

Beep.

---

Lorcan startled awake. How could he be awake? He was supposed to be dead. Right?

The nightmare he was having felt so real. Probably because he had lived it before. He assumed that was just what Hel was supposed to be, reliving the worst parts of your life.

But instead, he was in a bed, a hospital bed. Why did they save him? Lorcan wasn't worth saving. Yet, here he was covered in wires, tubes, a needle stuck in his hand, a device on his finger. It was dark outside and the lights were dim in the room.

Deciding he wasn’t actually dead, he took stock of his body, he was certain he had some broken ribs, but nothing else seemed to be broken which was surprising. He was definitely sore and stiff. And exhausted. So exhausted.

---

After… Lorcan didn't know how long he was discharged. He had put on some weight, though not a lot. The staff made sure he ate. They were all nice and cared for him. But now, he stood outside the main entrance of the hospital in some scrubs they gave him. Now, he had nothing. Nobody. He may as well have been lost at sea.

Why had they saved him? He still couldn’t figure that out.

Somehow, he managed to find the small house that he had been stuck in for who knows how long. There was police tape over the door. The door was open.

He pushed through the tape. The house was a mess. It seemed the cops had ransacked the place. But he finally found his things, they were strewn about the floor. Thank Hellas, his journal was still there. After changing, he packed up his books and journal, some clothes, and a few other other necessities.

He needed money or something he could sell. Maeve's jewelry would help. He could pawn it.

Lorcan asked the pawnshop owner for directions to the bus station, and then he set out to see if there was still one person who cared about him. Hopefully this wasn’t a bad idea.

____

Thanks for reading. Things will get better, I promise! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

Edit- oops! I forgot to actually put in tags... My bad. Sorry!

@thenerdandfandoms @starlightorstarfire

[lamortexiii]

The HellBilly Pulpit: The Stigma of the Stigma

Saturated

This is a painful, yet necessary entry. It envelops me and I must address the situation.

There is a real issue in this country, or even the world over, about mental health. You can't see it in someone. You can have no idea just how bad someone is suffering. Suffering because they don't have a choice. Their problems are discounted, downplayed, and even ridiculed. But make no mistake. They are very much real to those who live it.

This is a personal account of just this sort of thing.

There was a certain movie that came out in 2019 that had a line that sums up the truth. “The worst part about having a mental illness is that people expect you to act as if you don’t.”

I can not agree with this more.

I am currently going through a situation where this exact scenario is taking place. I know that I am not alone in my struggles. I feel that there are probably many of you out there with a similar story.

This pandemic over the last two years has completely laid to waste many of the daily rituals and habits that I had spent my entire life building just to be able to function as a (semi) normal person on any given day.

I suffer from OCD- Anxiety- Depression- and ADHD. That is one heck of a ride as it is, but toss on the pandemic and it’s a real rollercoaster that is out of my control. My job is not very critical. It’s deemed “essential” because of the relation to the finance market it has. Honestly, that’s just a super vague excuse to keep us going to work at the boss’s wishes. Some of us have been working from our dwellings for two years. The problem with this is that now is the time when the bosses want to start pulling people back into the office a couple of days a week despite the current spike of COVID cases. In doing this they have said, “all safety measures will be implemented”. What a crock.

I expressed my concerns about coming back not only because of this new surge of the newest variant but also because the situation really hasn’t changed any in the last few months from what it was in 2020. My coworkers and my boss know that I have OCD (extreme contamination fears) already with the workplace, but now, as I’m sure some are aware, it’s been kicked up a bunch of notches. My concerns were met with deaf ears. It was like this friend (who happened to be my boss) completely disregarded my concerns in dealing with trying to resume “normal” life. My life never was normal and now it’s even a different version than it was two years ago.

The sum- “get over it, you’re needed here… get here”

It didn’t matter what I said about the situation. Now, in this nightmare cocktail of disorders, I have developed a huge amount of empathy for others, especially if they are having any of the mental struggles that I am having. I spoke up that this is not just for me that I am bringing these things to attention, but for others that don’t have the same platform or comfortability to say for themselves.

The sum- “stop being a baby”.

Long story short… Thankfully I have a great therapist and doctor who knows how deep in the weeds I am with all of this and they have helped me sort out the situation, much to the annoyance of my bosses, so that I can continue to remain a cave dweller for the time being.

My point is this… it’s been said but it’s true and bears repeating. There is a stigma about mental health.

A person can be burning inside with the torment of depression and anxiety and any or all of the little variations or caravan of side issues that accompany any one of them. BUT.. since it is not a physical ailment, it’s perceived that it does not exist. Why? Why is it that to be taken even a little bit seriously, there has to be a physical manifestation of an ailment?

To add to the fact that I am a middle-aged male does nothing but amp up the opinions of others who don’t understand, nor do they want to understand what we go through inside.

For some of us, just the simple act of getting out of bed and putting that first foot on the floor takes ALL of our willpower, and we often sit right back down to attempt to regain it all over again. Or we drag ourselves to the shower only to stand in there and let the water try to distract us and wash away our pain. Knowing that in about an hour, we are going to have to put on our “normal” face and walk into the world carrying that weight on our backs that nobody sees.

There was a joke that I heard a few days ago- The doctor asks the patient if they have had any issues with depression or anxiety recently. The patient says, “doesn’t everybody?” and the doctor said... “No.”. That hit. That was an eye-opening moment. Not everyone knows what that is like. I can’t fathom that.

I have this group of bosses that have known me for years, as I said earlier, and they know that this is me. They know that I’ve been in therapy and medicated for years. And like any other millions of bosses out there in the world, they didn’t care.

It’s a mission of mine to bring as much attention as I can to the stigma surrounding mental health. That I can express how important focus on mental health is.

If you were to break a leg, you'd wear your cast and take your painkillers. Well, when dealing with your mental health, what's broken is your brain, your spirit, your ambition, and your will - the invisible things that people can’t see.

Seek out the help that you need - be it from a professional, family, your best friend, or someone you know who just “gets” you.

Reach out in your prayers, spells, cards, or whatever you use to help guide you. Your spirituality may be a surprising comfort in new ways that you hadn't thought of. I’ve found that I can rest my anxiety with a cleansing shower, letting the water run, cool not cold, over me as I focus my intent and purpose of removing the negativity that has attached itself to me.

I also use meditation to refocus and empty my mind by sitting in a dark room with my favorite ambient music to rest and let my mind float and take me wherever it wants to go. Falling asleep this way is ok as well, I’ve found that’s a great formula for a relaxing nap.

Tarot. This is new to me. I’ve started with a simple shuffle and letting my thoughts go into my cards. Not necessarily asking for a definitive answer, maybe just some insight that I may be missing myself that the cards can lead me to.

I’ve always been interested in the cards, but always as a spectator. I’ve recently met a few people who have some good experience with giving readings to people. I asked one of them a few weeks ago to give me a reading. He lives over in Europe and there’s a good bit of time difference but he is the first to inspire me to get a deck of my own. He did a reading for me, simple pull, nothing fancy and he came up with a certain card in a certain position and it corresponded with my current station in life. That was an eye-opening experience. To have someone do a reading with their cards for ME after all this time of being curious.

My second friend that I’ve turned to for guidance in the cards also did a reading for me. This was maybe 3 or 4 days after the first. This person is stateside and not far from me. I feel this is an important detail. She pulled my cards and one of the cards jumped out of the deck as she started to shuffle. This was the same card that my friend overseas pulled for me as well.

That was it. I’m in.

I bought my first deck. The one in the picture for this blog and I’m ready to start down that path of self-discovery that I’m learning is possible to achieve.

Tarot. Always curious. Never studied. Now I’m ready for the insight that is possible through the cards.

Opening my mind and spirit to the universe, I have found that this has been one of the most refreshing feelings in the world.

I try to live by the idea that the energy that you put out into the universe, will come back to you. Don’t be afraid to look within yourself and use the tools you feel compelled to use and are comfortable with. You’ll be much for the better than allowing the demons to hang out in your mind 24/7.

Always remember that you are not alone.

I promise you.

We are here and we reach out with open arms to be the support that you didn't know you needed.

Take care of yourselves everyone.  

Be cool

I leave you again this month with another poesy. This was inspired by the cards themselves.

Fnip.. fnip.. fnip... Sitting and shuffling Brooding and clenching The flutter of the cards calming my senses What will they show? Maybe they haven’t determined yet Guide me on my path, lead the way Give me insight, security Calm my thoughts Show me what you want to say Ava Satanis HBVV

The HellBilly Pulpit Blog by @hellbillyvvitch @thehellbillypulpit

[harryhandstan]

you bring me home

tw: death

word count: 2,356

This is a piece that was something more personal to me and I'm thankful to Olivia (@bfharry​) for allowing me to include it in her bf!harry fic-a-thon. My aunt died in early December of 2019 very suddenly. She and my uncle had been together for almost 20 years, but since common law marriage is not recognized in my state, her sister was in charge of all arrangements. Her sister lived in another state and basically just called and set up everything for her cremation over the phone. My uncle was too devastated to really speak up and say anything, so my family and I never truly got a chance to have the experience of a funeral for her. I never felt like I got that closure I needed, so for the past 8 months since her death, my brain has cycled through this vicious cycle of denial and depression, never fully reaching acceptance. This piece is basically just the experience I wish I had and Harry helping me through the grief process.

It's also the very first Harry thing I've ever written and posted here so any and all feedback is welcome!

also lots of hugs to @geoffwittek​ for reading over everything for me and being such an angel in general 

"Linds? We're gonna be late, love. Your family's still meeting at 3, right?"

His voice sounds distant, despite you both being in the same room. Your brain registers the noise but is unable to form a response.

He stands near the end of the bed, hands in his pockets, head down, "We don't have to go if it's too much for you. I'm sure your family would understand."

The black dress Harry helped you shop for 2 days ago lays, taunting you, at the end of the bed. You remember mindlessly wandering around before you had a breakdown in the middle of the department store. Harry had to sit with you on the bench outside of the store until you pulled yourself together enough to go back in.

Nearly a week ago, you had answered a call from home only to find your world turned upside down. Your Nanna cried on the other end, she couldn't believe the news was true either. It was so sudden and so unbelievably unexpected.

Your Aunt Linda was dead.

Thankfully, Harry had invited you over for dinner and a movie that night. You still don't remember how you stopped crying long enough to tell him the news. He held you on top of his chest, letting you sob until exhaustion took over and you fell asleep.

Currently, you were sitting on the side of the bed. Something in your brain had prompted you to gather enough strength to take a shower a couple of hours ago, but you hadn't had the energy to move since then. Harry's warm hand squeezing your shoulder brings you back to reality long enough to look at the clock and see you only had 10 minutes to get ready and be out the door.

"You coming back to me there, angel? Anything I can do to help you get ready for this?" he kneels in front of you, one hand on your thigh, the other cupping your face, wiping one of the many tears that were starting to form and fall.

"No, no, I can do this. I still wanna go. Just give me 5 minutes to get ready?"

"I'll go warm up the car." he leans up slightly and kisses your cheek before grabbing a set of keys off the dresser and disappearing down the stairs.

You throw the dress over your head quickly. Dread builds in your stomach but you push through, selecting a pair of pantyhose and taking longer to put them on than you have to spare, making sure you don't rip the delicate fabric. Shoes waited on the floor at the foot of the bed, a simple pair of black flats with a small silver buckle.

The bathroom lighting does you no justice as you try your best to do something to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You know there's no point in makeup, it'll all end up washed away by tears most likely before you even arrive at the funeral home. You apply a quick layer of moisturizer, hoping your skin will have a chance to recover before it's all washed away too. Your hair gets swept back into a low bun and at the last minute you grab a pair of earrings to loop through your ears on the way down the stairs and out the door.

The cold, winter air of December surrounds you as you make your way to the car. Harry was true to his word and had the car warm and waiting for you.

You take a shaky deep breath once you're settled in the passenger seat. Harry rests a hand on your knee, "You sure you're ready, peach?" you smile faintly at his nickname for you.

You'll never forget meeting him for the first time and comparing accents; your Georgia drawl versus his British one. Some nights when you were both delirious with sleepiness but unable to drift off, you would just exchange single words back and forth, trying to mimic one another. The nickname tended to roll off his tongue easier when you were in your hometown.  

You shake your head no. How could you ever be ready for a day like this? Despite she and your uncle never getting married, she always supported and loved you and your siblings as her own nieces and nephew from day one. How were you supposed to live without a woman who always had an encouraging or motivational word to offer when you were sad or frustrated? A woman whose light was so bright in your life that her absence surrounded you with a darkness you could never imagine pulling yourself through? ______________________________________________________________

"You're making your lip bleed, lovie. Here." He swipes a thumb softly over your bottom lip. He pulls a tube of lip balm out of his coat pocket and you gratefully take it and use it.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this, H." You look down at your hands, a few frayed tissues lay on your lap, messy and still wet with tears. Your gaze meets his, eyes pleading for some sort of escape.

His arm wraps behind your back and a hand rests on your side, pulling you closer to him. He kisses your temple, "Do you want to leave?" His voice is a low, comforting rumble in your ear.

You look around at the small funeral home chapel. Only two of the twelve long wooden pews were filled. Most of your aunt's family still lived in Virginia, where she was originally from, and none of them could be bothered to pay their respects here in small town, Georgia. You couldn't leave now.

He reads your face, a brief glance over your features, feels your body relax into his, "Just say the word if you change your mind, alright?"

You rest your head on Harry's shoulder for the remainder of the sermon. The preacher is nice enough, but the speech he prepared is all wrong. Your aunt would have appreciated this, but it just wasn't her. Wasn't an accurate representation of who she was and the impact she had on your universe.

The preacher finally wraps up with a prayer, asking all to stand and bow their heads. You've never known Harry to be a particularly religious sort, but he grabs your hand and squeezes as he bows his head. A quick and thoughtful reminder that he's still there. He's not leaving your side.

The small gathering of guests parades past the casket now, all expressing their final goodbyes as they pass. Harry stands back, quiet and respectful, letting your family through first before he rejoins you. His hand lands on the small of your back and wanders around to rest on your hip as you walk back into the lobby together.

You accept a few hugs and expressions of condolences from the few friends that came. Your hand stays loosely tied to Harry's the whole time, and he uses his free hand to greet everyone you introduce him to. Your family offers you a spot in the family car to the graveside, but you decline. Harry assures them he'll drive you to the cemetery safely.

The graveside service is thankfully quick. Another gathering of guests and more kind words from the preacher. A small prayer. Emotional exhaustion is settling into your body, and Harry easily supports your weight back to the car when the service is over.

"Your Nanna cornered me in lobby before we left the funeral home while you were talking to your cousin," he starts the car and fiddles with the controls, adjusting the heat, "she wants us to come to her house for a bit. Are you up for that?"

You nod your head yes, still not sure if your voice is strong enough to not break when you answer him. You know it will only be your family there. 8 people, including Harry. You could handle that.

"Should we grab a bite to eat before we go? You haven't eaten much today, honey."

You chuckle. The first genuine laugh in a week bubbling up through your chest. You stop when you notice Harry's adorably confused expression, his brow furrowing together with slight concern.

"Oh, no. You don't eat before you go to Nanna's house, trust me." ______________________________________________________________

Harry is a warm addition to the small house on the hill.

His eyes go wide when he sees the amount of food spread across your grandmother's small round kitchen table. His gaze follows everyone already seated around the table and then back to you. All you can manage is an "I told you so" shrug.

"Is all this just to impress me or..?" his voice is a whisper in your ear, but the kitchen is so small it echoes around to the whole table.

"No, babe. This is how it always is at Nanna's."

Your Nanna and Aunt Donna, who you're sure spent all day making everything, insist that it's not THAT much food, but you know you'll all be guilted into at least finishing a full plate AND taking leftovers home for later. You're thankful to see even your uncle has a plate in front of him, knowing his appetite hasn't been the same since he lost your aunt.

When dinner is finished, a pot of coffee is made and passed aroud to accompany dessert. The aroma fills the house, the strong scent a comforting reminder of your Aunt Linda. She always said she hated the taste, but loved the smell. You inhale, the essence surrounding you and bringing back warm and lovely memories. You catch Harry's eye, a small smile crossing your face.

He makes his way around the living room, refilling a few mugs along the way. The open entryway between the two rooms allows you to watch the path he takes. He stops where your momma sits in a green plaid armchair, her lips are moving but you can't make out what they're saying. They both look at you and he turns back to her, a charming smile lighting up his face.

By the time he makes it back to the kitchen, you've slipped into your Nanna's bedroom. You know it's normally rude to disappear, but this place is home. Had been your second home all your life and you knew no one would care that you were slipping your shoes off and crawling under the covers of the freshly made bed.

You hear a lull of voices outside the door, and you're thankful for the noise, for the small comfort of gentle chaos. If you listen closely, you could pinpoint individual noises throughout the house; your dad and Nanna talking politics, your momma and sister flipping through channels on the living room tv, your Aunt Donna and your uncle questioning Harry about his favorite British television shows. You hear water running and picture Harry, his tall frame towering over the tiny kitchen sink, helping with the dishes. You feel a slight bit of guilt for leaving him alone, but by the sound of his laughter, he's making himself right at home too.

You drift to sleep, and when you wake, Harry is next to you. His long fingers smoothing comfortingly up and down your arm, "You disappeared, love. Thought you might like some company. Hope you don't mind me joining you."

You shift your body closer to him, your head on his chest, his arm resting behind your head, "Is everyone still here?"

He brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face, tucks it neatly behind your ear, "Your uncle just left a minute ago, but everyone else is still around. Your brother called, said he was sorry he couldn't make it. I came to find you, make sure you were okay."

Your little brother was in his last semester of college. It was finals week and you know he would've been here if he could.

"I'm okay...I mean as okay as you can be after a day like today, you know?"

"Yeah, I know."

You slip off the bed and Harry follows you, hands on your waist to steady your balance while you slip your shoes back on. He helps you remake the bed, and the two of you make your way back towards the kitchen, now quiet that everyone moved to the living room.

"Harry?" You turn back at the last second before you leave the room. He's following so closely behind you you end up pressed against him.

"Hmm?" He catches you, pulling you even closer, the light from the kitchen shining on his face.

"I haven't had a moment to thank you today. For all of it..dropping everything and flying out here with me, spending the whole day with my family, driving me everywhere, just being here with me. You've kept me sane and I could never repay you for something like that."

"You don't have to thank me. I wouldn't have dreamed of being anywhere else than right here. You needed me and that was all that mattered, everything else can wait."

______________________________________________________________

“Ha! Look at baby peach! How old were you here?”

Your lap was covered in pictures, the few favorites you had brought with you from home. Harry was plopped next to you on the couch. The picture in question is a baby picture of you, chocolate icing all over your chubby cheeks.

“That’s my first birthday party.” You giggle at his smile, the way he can’t stop staring at the photo.

You shuffle through a few more, Harry being curious about each one and questioning you about every detail.

“Who’s this?” The picture he hands you takes your breath away for a second. You forgot it was mixed in and he instantly knows by the tears filling up your eyes.

“It’s your Aunt Linda, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I didn’t know..”

“No, it’s okay. This is a good picture of her. She had such an amazing smile.” He rests his head on your shoulder. 

“She loved you so much, babe. She would be so proud of you.”

“Yeah, she would’ve thought you were pretty great too, H.”

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 6

Day 6 - When your soulmate is injured you will experience pain in that area

Pairing(s): Analoceitmus [ambiguous, can be read romantic or platonic, or a mix], QPR Royality 

TWs: Injury mention, swearing, Remus being Remus near the end 

–

“I’m going to sue him.”, Logan hissed, attempting to sit up in his hospital bed, “Soulmate or not, how can one man possibly be so irresponsible?! I’m definitely going to sue him.”

He winced as he tried to get comfy, but the tough mattress and uncomfortable bunching of the sheets said suffer. 

And boy, was he. 

Logan Sanders was an immaculate, careful man. Had been since he was a child. A neat and tidy lad who - upon learning of the rules of fate - made it his utmost mission to spare his soulmate any pain or anguish for as long as he could manage. 

His soulmate, however, didn’t seem to share that sentiment.

From childhood, Logan found himself with sudden knee pains from scrapes he never fell for, abrasions he had caused no friction to gain, and the occasional shoulder or back pain as if he’d been pushed over when he was standing perfectly upright. At least the universe had decided to spare humanity the anguish of leaving soulmates with the physical injuries that came with the pain, but it was only a minor comfort.

Logan couldn’t say he hadn’t expected a lot of rough and tumble from his soulmate after his elementary school years, but really; a broken leg, facial burns, and a splintered forearm? “This is absolute bullshit.”, he bitterly muttered, “Barely hours apart! How is that even possible?!”

His ranting went ignored by the nurse who came to administer his medication; thankfully science had worked out a wonderful little clear pill that could banish the pain from particularly debilitating soulmate pains. The little bastards were expensive - the true pain is always capitalism within the medical world -  but Logan’s job paid handsomely. Say what you will about computer nerds and whatnot, but programming for the right people lets you make some seriously high end bread. None of that homemade farmer’s market shit.

Unfortunately, he’d have to wait about a week for his pains to ebb gently into nothingness until the klutz of a man fate paired him with got into MORE trouble. Thus Logan couldn’t get back to his work. His leg was, for all intents and purposes, broken so the staff couldn’t let him go home. He couldn’t simply drive home himself either, his splintered forearm saw to that. And Logan couldn’t even ask his roommate Emile to bring him his work laptop to try and keep his workload at bay, his left eye was too cloudy and painful to concentrate on a screen. 

Yes; his soulmate BETTER be paying his hospital bills.

Realisation struck Logan; his soulmate is obviously just as injured, ergo it’s a high probability that he could be somewhere within the hospital too. Using his good hand to reach for a pen, and absolutely dreading adding to his pain, Logan poked the tip into his good arm, wincing as he first attempted to contact them with simple morse code, “My/ Name/ Is/ Logan. Who/ Are/ You?”

He waited for a response, fearing he would have to start scratching his name onto his arm when he felt the little jabs in response,  “Janus.” Great. He FINALLY had a name to put on the lawsuit. Logan, already wincing at the bee-sting pain from the pen, he jabbed out another message,

“Are/ You/ Currently/ Staying/ At/ Stokes/ General/ Hospital?”

The reply came cryptically,

“Yes / I / -”

Logan wasn’t sure why his soulmate had suddenly stopped replying. Had a nurse confiscated whatever his soulmate was using to poke himself? Either way, Logan would have to be content with the knowledge his soulmate was at least close by. He truly had no idea how close until two very disgruntled voices were within earshot of his room door,

“Brilliant, I just adore being ousted from my comfortable bed so I could spend even longer looking at your delightful face.”

“Oh, like you’re the victim here, asshole! You’re the one stabbing yourself and fucking up my unbroken arm!”

Logan watched them both argue outside of his room door. Both men were sporting similar injuries to his own; the first one that had spoken, refined looking gentleman with sharp features and neat blonde hair, had the left side of his face bandaged heavily. Meanwhile the other man, sporting raven hair and eye bags that could carry a month’s worth of groceries, was fitted with a cast on his left forearm. Both of them were on crutches, though Logan couldn’t see if either had a genuine cast.

“Ahem. Gentlemen?”

Logan called to them, watching as both turned to meet his gaze. He lifted the pen in his hand and asked, “I take it one of you is Janus?”

The man with the bandages over his eye, Janus, nodded, “That would be me.”

The man with the broken arm looked confused, “Wait, so, you’re the one who was ramming a pen into their arm? Damn.”, he turned, begrudgingly to the first man, “I guess I owe you an apology then.”

“Really you needn’t-”

“Then I shan’t.”

Janus glared at the other man’s snark, but Logan found it rather delightful. Clearing his throat once more, he breached the topic, “I take it that means we three are soulmates?”

“Four.”

Logan and Janus looked to the third man as he explained, “Your leg doesn’t have a proper cast on it, this asshole doesn’t have one either,”, Janus gifted the man a half glare and a middle finger before he continued, “And since I don’t have one, it’s pretty obvious there’s a fourth musketeer.”

Fair to say, Logan was impressed, even Janus was hiding the tiniest hint of admiration as he retorted, “And are we to call you Sherlock or D’artagnan?”

The man rolled his eyes, “Ha ha, fuck you. My name’s-”

“VIRGIL!!”

The man, Virgil, nearly lept out of his skin, jerking his arm and giving the three of them a jolt of pain. Logan felt relieved he’d only have to put up with it for a few more days once the medicine took effect. 

In the doorway stood a man who could only be described as unnecessarily handsome, clad in a burgundy bomber jacket and a Nightmare Before Christmas shirt that seemed out of place on someone who stood poised like the protagonist of a romance anime. Logan noted he and Janus both checked to see if his leg was broken; good to know they had similar tastes even if the man’s lack of a cast dashed their hopes. Said handsome man made a beeline for Virgil, only to receive a swat and a motion to back off, 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Princey, you nearly gave me a heart attack!!!”, Virgil hissed and took a deep breath. ‘Princey’ let out a fond huff, “You should be so lucky, Bring Me The Depression, do you know how worried Pat and I were when we couldn’t find you!? This, dearest Emo Nightmare, is karma at its finest-!”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, Roman. Where’s Pat? He’s gonna wanna meet my soulmates.”

Roman blinked, finally registering Logan and Janus just watching the two of them reunite. Clearing his throat, Logan made the introductions, “I’m Logan Sanders, this gentleman is-”

“Janus Delgado. Charmed I’m sure.”, Janus butt in, “Really, Logan, I can introduce myself. Unlike some people.”

Virgil flipped him off just in time for Roman to frown in confusion, “And…. you’re all sure you’re soulmates? I mean, no offense but you don’t...”, he picked his words carefully, his face contorting at the effort, “....act like soulmates?”

The three of them looked between one another and shrugged, “To be perfectly fair - Roman, yes? - we have all literally just met today under…. Less than optimal circumstances. I doubt you and your soulmate, assuming you’ve found them, hit it off instantly.”

Roman blinked, “Kind of, we didn’t have any problems like this, quite honestly...”, he almost sounded guilty at that notion, “The worst we have to deal with is his cat allergies-”

Out in the hallway, a couple of nurses hurriedly walked past and allowed another man into the room who immediately lit up at the sight of Roman and Virgil, “There you both are!!! I got held up at the vending machine, but when I came back you were both gone!”

“Patton! How glad I am to see you once more!”, Roman beamed, pulling the taller man into a hug and planting a dramatic kiss upon his cheek, to which Logan, Janus, and Virgil simultaneously met with an ‘ugh’. Perhaps they were more alike than they first assumed. 

Patton turned to meet Janus and Logan’s gaze, looking back to Virgil who explained, “They’re two of my soulmates, Pat.”

For a moment, the tall excitable ball of sunshine looked like he was about to pop with joy when Roman held up a hand to interject, “Pardon me, but ‘two of’?”, and cast his confusion towards Virgil who explained, “Our last soulmate has a broken leg, it’s the only injury we can’t account for.”

Patton and Roman shared a momentary look, drawing Logan’s attention, “Roman? Patton? Are you both alright?”. The two seemed to play eye contact rock-paper-scissors to decide who would answer, with Roman losing apparently.

“When exactly did you feel the pain in your leg?”

“Couple hours ago” “Around three?” “Precisely 3:27 pm.”

Came the chorus of answers. Janus and Virgil both shot Logan a look, to which he quietly murmured, “It never hurts to provide a little extra clarity.”

“Apparently so,”, Janus began, before shifting his partial gaze to the couple, “So, are you lovebirds-”

“Qpp’s.”, Patton corrected quietly, to which, Janus did apologise, “Pardon me. So, are you queer platonic saps going to clue us in to why exactly you asked us such a specific question?”

Roman sighed, “I ask because my brother, Remus, broke his leg at that exact same time today. Pat and I were going to visit him right after we’d checked in with Virgil.”

The three soulmates shared a collective look, but the first one to pipe up was Virgil, “You have a brother?! Why am I only finding this out now, I’ve known you for 12 fucking years, Roman! What the fuck!?”

Logan exasperatedly ran a hand down his face as he tried to maneuver himself out of his bed and into one of the hospital’s wheelchairs, Janus offering a hand to him, “Virgil, as much as I would love to listen to you and Roman bicker back and forth, could we possibly save such trivialities for after we meet our fourth soulmate?”

This time Patton piped up, “Oh, um, you may not want to do that just yet-”

As if on cue, roughly six or seven medical staff rushed by, causing Patton and Roman to quickly look around the doorway, only to turn back to the others, “Well, no time like the present. Patton, if you help Virgil, I’ll help Janus once Logan can shimmy into that wheelchair.”, Roman assigned as he offered an arm for Logan to hold onto while he got himself in the chair. Noting the context clues, Logan was rightfully worried, especially as he felt a new pain in his hand, only to note that while Roman and Patton helped them move, Virgil and Janus seemed to be experiencing more pain in their legs than before. In the moment, Logan did feel a little bad that the pill he’d taken hours earlier was saving him from too much additional pain. Approaching the hospital room the medical staff had gathered within, the group were greeted with a wild scene.

A scruffy man strikingly similar in looks to Roman - albeit sporting a thin moustache and silver hair streak - wearing a leg cast was holding a crutch in one hand and an honest to god butterfly knife in the other, standing atop his hospital bed, raving like a lunatic and gesturing frantically to an empty space in the room,

“NOW WILL SOMEBODY FINALLY LET ME OUT OF HERE?! ME AND THIS BEAR WANNA GO CATCH HORNY FISH AND SHIT IN THE WOODS!!” 

Charming. 

Logan glanced over at Patton and Roman, the question clear on his face just like their answer. That was Remus alright. He watched Roman talk with a nurse trying to calm Remus, “We gave him some painkillers to ease his leg pains, but it shouldn’t be affecting him this much!”

“Oh, Remus has always been like this with medication, I should’ve warned the nursing staff.”, he groaned, “But that doesn’t explain-”

“He must’ve pushed the blue button behind his bed,”, Logan sighed, already anticipating Roman’s question, “The medical staff likely assumed Remus was coding and thus went into action. That’s why they’re here right now.”

Roman’s expression confirmed that was indeed going to be his question. As Roman went to help the nurses tranquilise Remus’ wild flailing, and while his other two soulmates stood by to watch the chaos - in varying degrees of worry and strange admiration bordering on attraction for his disregard for social norms - Logan tried to come to terms with the facts.

He had three very different soulmates, and by the looks of it? He’d have to get used to frequent hospital stays….

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

This one’s probably on the weirder side, but uh, yeah, I hope it’s still a good read! [Also sorry these have been a little late lately TTvTT] @tsshipmonth2020 Taglist: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses

[all1e23]

Between the Stars [Prologue]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x  Reader

Summary:  Struggling with the death of your husband, you find comfort in someone unexpected.

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. 

A/N:  It’s a military AU which I forgot to mention because I’m an ass. Starting you out with some seriously sad shit right out of the gate. I am sorta sorry. Sorta not. @teamcap4bucky​ Read a preview and responded with “fucking, fuck you” so that should give you an idea of what you’re going into. There is a lot of angst but it’s not gratuitous. It’s purposeful and shows the ups and downs of grief and moving on. I think I grabbed everyone’s tags if not shoot me a message. If you like it write a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me. 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

“I’m serious, Y/n.”

“Okay,” You mocked teasingly. “You’re serious.”

Steve growled, teasing smile curling up the edge of his lips despite the frustration in his eyes. He gripped your waist and pulled you away from his duffle, ignoring your yelp of protest and settling you on his lap. His pants scratched the back of your bar legs. You hated those stupid pants, they were stiff and uncomfortable. They made him look like someone you didn’t know. Or, at least someone you didn’t want to know. 

Your fingers find the soft, worn fabric of the ugly tan shirt he had to wear — Army regulation or not, it was still ugly. The fabric twisted around your fingers, pulling it from his pants, ruining his pristine appearance. Maybe if his shirt was wrinkled, he would get in trouble and not have to go. It was unlikely. He had a unit to command, but a frightened wife could dream, couldn’t she? 

This was the fourth deployment the two of you have gone through together. The stupid support groups were all liars. It didn’t get easier after the first, it got harder. You knew the risks before, but now you understood, really understood what they meant. Things became second nature that shouldn’t be second nature for anyone. Like turning your television on in the morning, to see if there would be a notification officer and chaplain knocking on your door within the next eight hours. Every night that passes without a call leaves you wondering if the last time you spoke would truly be the last. 

It leaves you panicked. Did you say I love you enough? Did he say it to you? Will you ever be lucky enough to hear it one more time? 

But then the call comes, and everything is right for the twenty minutes you get to hear his voice. 

The sparks are gone just as fast as he is. 

“Hey,” Steve’s voice had lost the hard, playful edge. It was soft. The softness he used when he tried to coax you awake in the morning, or when Steve spilled the secrets hidden within that generous heart of his — the same gentleness Steve used whenever he told you he loved you.

A roughened index finger tapped under your chin and tilted your head up from where it was hiding in his neck. 

“I meant what I said. This is the last one. I’m done after this.” 

It was that time again. Re-enlisting. You knew Fury had attempting to convince Steve to stay and true to his word Steve would shake his head and end the conversation before they ever got far. The Army could be persuasive, though. 

“You really think they will let you go?” 

Steve cupped your cheek and tightened his hold on your hip, tugging you securely onto his lap, so your legs hung off one side. “They won’t have much choice. I’ve given them all I can give them.” 

“B-But--” 

Steve leaned in and swallowed your broken protests in a gentle kiss. You didn’t have time for more, so it was nothing salacious, but his lips lingered far longer than they should if you were in public. Thankfully, you were still home and could savor the feel of his lips. The cool air hit your barely swollen lips, and you shuddered, immediately wishing he would kiss you again. You wanted to keep that warmth for just a little longer. 

“No buts. Do you trust me, Y/n?” 

You searched his eyes, bright, full of hope and vulnerable like they always were when he looked at you. 

“With my life. You know, I do.” 

Steve grinned, and if you weren’t already in love with him, you would be falling fast. 

“I promise you, Y/n. This is it. My last tour and then I’m all yours. We can do everything we said we would and finally start a family.” 

You could feel your eyes burning from tears; you refused to let fall. Steve brushed a kiss under your right eye, letting you know it was okay to let them fall if you wanted. 

“Do you really promise? This is the last time?” You finally whispered. 

“I do. There’s nothing that could keep me from coming to you. Fifteen months, baby. I just need you to hang on for fifteen months.” 

You huffed a watery laugh and wiped those insolent tears away. “I can wait fifteen months for you. I’d wait forever, Steve.” 

—

“—Steven Grant Rogers. A man who was devoted to his country and his lovely wife—” 

You blinked several times, your eyes focused on the dark wood five feet in front of you, and the words all ran together in your ears. You didn’t need to hear the kind of man your husband is. You knew. You knew how kind and selfless and courageous he is—he was. 

A cool breeze ruffled up the edges of your black dress and left you with a chill buried deep in your bones, one that would never leave you. At least the weather had behaved. There was no rain, the sun was glowing through what little clouds were nearby. It was the kind of day Steve would have called perfect. There was nothing perfect about today, no matter how brightly the damn sun insisted on shining. You had briefly thought of having the service inside some church somewhere, but neither of you attended enough while he was living to make that an option. Sarah had argued with you, they wouldn’t care about that. No one would judge you or ask you to leave, sweetheart. Deep down, you knew that. It simply didn’t feel like Steve, and you wanted his last moments with you to be him. 

Finally, you settled on the park where you met all those years ago, where he proposed, and under the tree where you vowed to love him forever seemed like the only right place to say goodbye. You don’t know how but between Sam and Nat, they found a way to make it happen. You assumed some strings were pulled, favors called in that you could never repay. 

At least Steve came home to you. 

Even if it wasn’t the way, he promised to come home to you.  

You can’t help but glance to your left, Sam was standing there in his dress uniform, shoulders squared and face blank. If you didn’t know him so well, you would think he was simply another soldier paying respects to Captain Rogers. You knew his tells. That clenched jaw, the tightened fists, and the slow, deep breaths he took every few minutes as if he has scheduled them out. Sam’s hand startled you when it reached yours, his fingers threading with your own. He wasn’t supposed to do that, and as if he could read your mind, his shoulder shrugged, and the faintest smirk appeared. 

It was nice, but you couldn’t help but feel like something— someone was missing. 

“Why didn’t Bucky come?” 

You should be quiet, but your silence wouldn’t change who you were burying today or the fact that you were going home alone tonight and every night from here on out. Keeping quiet wouldn’t change that you will never get to kiss or hold your husband again. Everyone in attendance will go back home to their spouses tonight, they get to leave and breathe a sigh of relief because it wasn’t them. They will go home to hold their loved ones and whisper how they won’t ever leave them the way Steve left you and make promises for more because they still have a future where promises and more exist. 

So, if anyone had a problem with your whispers, they could go to hell. 

“He needed to stay with the rest of the unit,” Sam whispered, tightening his hold on your hand for some reason you weren’t sure of. You’ve already heard the worst. You doubt anything Sam said at this point could hurt you. “Someone had to stay behind, and he thought it would be better for guys and… for you.” 

Turned out you were wrong. 

You ignored the pinching in your chest and turned back to face the preacher, your concession to Sarah though it still felt a little off. Part of you had hoped Bucky would be there to help with everything, so when the plane landed a few days before, you had been surprised to see Sam had escorted Steve back home instead of Bucky. Not because they weren’t close or because Steve didn’t love Sam like a brother. He absolutely did, but it’s always been Steve and Bucky for as long as anyone could remember. You found it hard to believe Bucky wouldn’t put up a fight to be here for goodbye.

The casket flag was slowly pulled from atop the casket, and dizziness hit you. It was nearly over. You felt your eyes fall closed, and the voices around you faded away. Everything blurred. You didn’t want this. None of this was fair. You were supposed to have forever, and now you had nothing. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. He promised. Steve promised, and he didn’t break promises! 

Especially ones made to you.

“Sam?” You whispered.

You took a deep breath and opened your eyes. They were on the 8th fold. Each fold took another piece of you, just another chip of whatever was left of the person you were. Whoever that girl was, the moment that flag was in your hands, you knew you would never be that girl again. 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t think I can do this.” You whimpered as a few tears began to fall. 

“I’ll go with you—” 

“No, I can’t do this… go on alone. Without him. I can’t—I just can’t.” 

“You’re not alone, Y/n. We are all here for you for as long as you need.” 

Everyone but Bucky.

A man you didn’t recognize, a nameless face approached you, thirteen folds between his hands, a tiny crooked hat made out of stars and stripes. Strange how something only a little bigger than your purse, could destroy the rest of your life. The man stood stoically and met your eyes as he repeated what you were sure was a well-rehearsed line he practiced many times. 

“On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Army, and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.”

You wished it could do something to ease to the ache. They were hollow words that meant nothing. Through the haze that had fallen over you, taking away the sun and the clouds, you must have reached out with shaking hands because Sam stepped forward to help support the newly added weight, guiding it into your arms. You clutched the flag against your chest, holding on to all you had left of your husband. You squeezed your eyes shut and prayed to whoever would listen, Please let me wake up now. Please, please let this be a nightmare.

No savior was coming; it wasn’t a dream, and Steve was never coming home. 

Masterlist // Next 

[hanniiesuckle17]

Little Stars

A/n: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 1.5K!!! THISMEANS SO MUCH TO ME SO HERES A LITTLE IMAGINES I WROTE OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD THAN K YUO GUYS AGain

(this is way longer than I thought it would be! also not edited lol sorry)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: maybe like one or two curse words, sexual tension??

Summary: Y/n is an up and coming artist. The problem is her collection deadline is one past up and coming. Lacking motivation since the job was assigned she is stuck the day before her deadline with no paintings or photos and thoroughly depressed. That is until shes see inspiration outside her window. Inspiration by the name of Lee Felix.

Genre: Fluff, strangers to ��lovers’, 

✧

Empty. My brain was empty. I had two months. Two months to come up with a small exhibit for a local gallery I was signed to. Two months. For five paintings. Or photos. Or both. TOO MANY DECISIONS. Decisions...granted I should have made...two months ago. 

I sat near the biggest window in my apartment. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a natural glow on the stark white canvas. I just needed a theme. A subject. I know! I could do a five-part exhibition on tea kettles!

“Oh for pete’s sake, I’m going crazy,” I said head in my hands. 

I can’t paint teapots. Flowers are overdone. What the hell am I supposed to paint? This exhibition was a huge deal. I had nothing and my deadline was tomorrow night.

That’s it. I’m done. My short career is finished. I should just throw away all my paints and pencils and chalk and coal and trash all the canvases that littered my apartment. I glanced at my phone which sat a few feet away from me on a small wooden table littered with tubes of paint and jars filled with brushes and blades covered in paint. 

An hour had passed and I still had yet to touch my brush to the canvas. Groaning, I rested my forehead against the linen canvas. “Come on, Y/n. Search your artsy soul for inspiration.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I tried to imagine the canvas being filled by something beautiful. Something worthy of love and legacy. Something that could burn a hole in my life and set it on fire. Something to ignite my passion again.

When I opened them, of course, the canvas was still empty and my brain was too.

With the thousandth aggravated sigh of the hour, I sat up and looked out the huge window near me. My eyes caught on a flash of blonde hair. Down on the street, a boy with light hair and bright eyes was bouncing along with two other boys. They were joking around and laughing, as people who’s entire job wasn’t on the line would do. For some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

All of a sudden I could see the brush strokes of his hair on my canvas. The delicate lines of his eyes. I needed to paint him.

I launched myself out of the chair and rushed to the door. My feet took the stairs two at a time and I jumped the last three before sprinting out onto the street. My head turned in all directions trying to find the boy I saw from my window. Once again, I found his blonde mop bouncing and laughing down the street, away from my apartment.

“Hey!” I called out, running to catch up.

Good grief boys walk fast. “Hey! You! With the blonde hair!” At my words, the three boys turned around, astonished someone was running at them. After a few words, the boys started running away. “No! Wait! I need to talk to the Blonde Guy!” I yelled out of breath. Desperate, I ran after them. Thankfully they turned down an alley only a few feet away that I knew was a dead end.

I put my hands on my knees catching my breath. The three boys stared at me a little fearful. “Look, I just need to talk to Goldilocks. I saw him from my window and there was just something about you. It inspired me.”

“Well... yeah. We’re kind of famous. We get that a lot.” The boy with doe-like eyes and dark, almost black hair said like it was obvious. The boy with blonde hair elbowed him in the stomach making the other laugh.

“You’re famous?” I asked, finally standing upright. They looked between each other surprised.

“You don’t know who we are?” The youngest looking asked. He reminded me of a fox I painted once. “Sorry. We thought you were a crazy fan.” To be honest I hadn’t really been keeping up with the news or popular things lately. I had been holed up in my apartment trying to paint. “We’re from a group called Stray Kids. I’m Jeongin. The rude guy is Jisung, and that’s Felix.”

My eye immediately darted to the boy now known to me as Felix. “Felix...” I said looking him over. He was even more entrancing up close. He had soft sun spots dancing across his cheeks and nose that brightened up his face. Freckles. How cute. How different.

“Yeah...what’s your name?”

“Uh- I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n.” 

Jeongin’s eyes widened. “Hyung! Isn’t she that painter that Hyunijn likes? He dragged us to that gallery last year to see her stuff.” Jisung nodded and looked from me back to Felix. “Our friend loves your stuff. He made us take a bunch of pictures of him in front of it.”

“Oh, that’s awesome.” I couldn’t take my eyes off Felix, and he noticed. 

“Do you think we could like buy a painting off you? That would shut him up for like a solid six months.” Jisung said pulling out his wallet. “How much are we talking?”

“For something I have with me? Not in a gallery? Probably like....Fifteen.” I said, still quite distracted. My imagination was spiraling out of control with how I wanted to paint the boy in front of me. How I wanted to capture his image. Photograph him. 

“Fifteen bucks? Great! That’s awes-”

“Fifteen hundred.” 

Felix burst into laughter as the look on Jisung’s face fell. His hand was frozen, extended out in front of him, already prepared to give me fifteen dollars. My heart skipped a beat watching Felix’s bright grin. He practically glowed.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you choose any painting you want from my apartment and I’ll sign it for...Hyunjin, was it?” The boys nodded. “I’ll give it to you if Felix will help me finish my new exhibition. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll even-”

“Sure.” 

Felix shrugged with a small smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked me over with a soft and happy gaze. It seemed I intrigued him as much as he intrigued me.

“My apartment is just around the corner.”

“Cool. Just a heads up, I’ve never modeled except for like album jackets and stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The closer he got, the harder it was not to smile. Jisung and Jeongin were joking behind us, something about Felix finally getting into a pretty girl’s apartment, but it all kind of faded away as I walked back with Felix. I felt the passion to paint again burning in my stomach.

✧

Felix patiently waited as I opened the door to my apartment. When we entered I hastily cleaned up some random junk cluttering the counters as he looked around. There was nothing I could do about the multiple canvases lying in stacks all around the living room. 

“Wow. You are really good.” He said looking at a large canvas painted with bright and happy colors near my kitchen. Why did the compliment feel different coming from him?

“Thank you very much. I’ve had a bit of a dry spell recently.”

“For how long?” 

“Give or take three months.”

Felix chuckled and looked at the other paintings near him. While he explored my art-filled apartment, I set up my camera on a tripod near the window and adjusted the position of my easel. “So, how is this gonna work?”

“Um...I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never been inspired like this before. I really have no idea what medium I’ll end up using...so I’m sort of using...all of them.” Felix laughed again watching me frantically prepping everything I could possibly need. I didn’t miss the lingering stares he cast my way. 

“We’re doing photos? Should I like put on a base or something?”

“NO!” He was a little shocked at my outburst. He probably wasn’t used to being photographed without makeup. “Sorry. I just- I don’t want you covered up. I want to paint everything. Everything about you.” I looked to see a shy blush on Felix’s face as he came to stand near me by the window.

“So, I sit here?” He motioned to the windowsill, overlooking the street on which I discovered him. The light hit him perfectly, bouncing of his cheekbones and practically giving him a halo.

I nodded quietly and adjusted a few settings on my camera before returning to my easel. Felix looked at me with a smile. I laughed seeing he was trying to pose and stay very still. 

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll ask you to be still if I need to.” 

The sound of the camera clicking filled the apartment as Felix watched me paint him. The lines came easy to me as if I had painted him many times before. He watched as I painted the lines of his face and his eyes quickly appeared on the canvas, staring back at me just like he was. 

“Do you want some music? This will take a while. I’ve got five pieces to do.” Felix chuckled, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down and his eyes crinkling into crescent moons. 

“Music would be wonderful.” With a smile, I shoved my wet paintbrush behind my ear, streaking my cheek and possibly my hair, and shuffled over to turn on my stereo. Felix let a curious grin slip onto his lips. “Classical?” 

“Do you like it? It helps me focus.” He nodded and looked out the window. His eyes closed as the sound of soft violins floated through the apartment. “So, Felix, what’s your favorite book.” He was a little shocked at the random question, but that happy smile returned.

“Ummm...let’s see,” While he thought I continued painting, the basics of his face and form already done. I quickly painted the window and background so I could go back to focusing on the shadows and details of Felix’s face. My hands worked quickly, shading in the dark patches behind the cushions and curtains. 

“Peter Rabbit.”

“Like the kid’s book?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing! It’s just different. I knew there was something special about you.” I said with a laugh, grabbing a smaller brush and looking at the shadows behind Felix. He tilted his head, resting it on the window. 

“Why did you pick me?” 

The movement of my brush stopped. My eyes met the dark brown stare Felix held. He smirked noticing the heat rushing to my cheeks. “I thought you looked like a shooting star.” His eyebrows rose and he tried not to laugh.

“That’s quite the artist's answer.”

“Well, I am an artist.”

He chuckled and started playing with the edge of his sleeve. “So, a shooting star?” Again, I blushed. The painting was almost finished I just needed to finish the details of his eyes and cheeks. “Yeah. I don’t know. You just seemed so full of life. Something fleeting. Something...ephemeral.”

“Ephemeral? As in not lasting? What am I supposed to turn into dust after you’ve finished with me?” He laughed, his eyes crinkling. My eyes trailed down his cheeks to look at the stars dancing across his skin. The freckles scattered about his cheeks. Delicately, I began placing each and every spot as Felix told me about his life.

“It’s finished.” 

“Can I see?” He said jumping up from the window sill. I shook my head and grabbed the still wet canvas. “Come on, Y/n! Let me see!” He chased me around the living room trying to carefully grab the painting. I laughed when his arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled me to him. 

“You can see it when the collection is complete! We have more art to make!” He laughed and let me place the painting away to dry. Together we walked over back to the window and he sat back down, watching me expectantly. 

I scanned through the photos the camera captured. They were fantastic. They were the perfect candids. I could edit these into black and white and it would be gorgeous. Felix came to look over my shoulder. He gasped at the pictures. 

“How the hell did you do that?” Felix gently took the camera and scrolled through the pictures. “Seriously. You were busy painting. How did you do this?” I shrugged and cleaned some of my brushes while he looked through the photos. 

“Sometimes it is not about the angle or the position. It’s just what the subject is doing or feeling.” I took the camera and scrolled to a certain picture. “Like this one.” Felix looked at the picture. It was him leaning against the window, his eyes crescents and aimed somewhere off frame. “Do you know when this was?” He shook his head and looked to me.

“When I called you a shooting star.” Felix looked at the photo again, seeing it in a new light. 

“So, what’s next?”

I felt so close to Felix. Like I had known him for years. Had it really only been a few hours? My eyes traced the lines of his shoulders and back. The perfect canvas.

“Can I...paint on you?”

His eyes widened for a millisecond and he let out a breathy laugh. “Have you done it before?” I shrugged and wiped my paint stained hands on my jeans. When I looked up he had moved a little closer.

“I’ve never really wanted to. Like I said, I don’t want to capture your image...covered up. It should be seen naturally.”

Felix smiled. “So, where are we doing this?” He said softly. My heart thumped against my chest. I pointed to an open space on the wood floor and he nodded. I grabbed some body paints I had lying around in a cabinet and brought them over to Felix. 

“Let me know if anything gets uncomfortable and I’ll stop.” He nodded and slipped his shirt over his head. I motioned for him to lie on his stomach and he followed my instruction. Felix shivered when his tan skin touched the cool wood floor. 

“What got you into painting?” Felix asked, resting his head on his arms. I picked out the brush I wanted to start with. My palm rested on his shoulder as the brush hovered over his back. 

“I’m not really sure. You see...I really sucked at math.”

Felix let out the largest laugh, one that shook his whole chest. I took the opportunity to start painting. Soon his lower back was filled with swirling colors of blues and purples. “Is everything okay?” Felix asked, interrupting his own story.

“Yeah, just an awkward angle.” 

“You can adjust if you want to. I don’t mind.” My skin started to crawl when  Felix turned to me in the eye. Like he was inviting me to come even closer to him. He smiled at the blush on my cheeks before turning his head away. Hesitantly, I situated myself above Felix, slowly resting some of my weight on the lowest part of his back possible. I saw him smile when he felt my knees on either side of his hips. 

Felix continued his story about something one of his friends named Chan did the other night. The sound of his low voice mixed with the music still playing guided my brush like it had a mind of its own. When I looked at my work, a nebula with hundreds of little stars was born onto his skin.

“I think it’s done.”

Carefully, I got off of Felix and helped him up. I set the camera up again and it started taking pictures. Taking Felix’s hand I pulled him in front of the lens and positioned him with his back towards the camera. He watched me as I positioned his body, my hands unintentionally lingering on his shoulders.

Felix turned to me as I began to pull away. “I didn’t know art could be so intimate.” I looked down to see his hand on my arm, his body was slightly turned at the waist towards me and his eyes bore into mine. Never had I felt this passionate about something other than art. I liked Felix. A lot. More than I should admit after just meeting the man. “Is it supposed to be like this?”

I shook my head, hoping he wouldn't notice I stepped closer. “No,” His hand slid around the base of my back. “Maybe you are a shooting star. I couldn’t have wished for something this incredible.” He smiled and looked down at me.

“Can I kiss you? Sorry...I just-”

“You really didn’t have to ask.” Felix, let out a small laugh, almost a giggle, making me smile. My fingers traveled up his neck and into the edge of his blonde hair. “Well, are you gonna do it or are you gonna chicken out, Felix?”

“Oh shh.”

His lips tasted like strawberries. He was gentle and slow, like he was savoring every moment. When he pulled away I rested my forehead against his. “I do not regret putting off my work until the last minute.” He laughed, his eyes brightening and lighting up the whole room. 

✧

Standing in the gallery felt like a second home. My exhibition hung on the wall .It was one of my greatest yet. The gallery had given me an extension after seeing the semi-finished product. A group of rowdy boys walked towards me, a familiar and handsome face leading them.

“Y/n!” He called, running up and greeting me with a kiss. The other seven boys followed after him. One of the taller ones hung towards the back clearly nervous.

“You must be Hyunjin?” I asked reaching for his hand. His eyes widened and he shook my hand vigorously. His sharp features lifted into a grin and he laughed. “You might want to let go of my hand eventually.” 

“Oh. Sorry. I’m just such a big fan.”

“I know. Felix has told me all about you. I’ve got a painting signed for you in my car.” Hyunjin’s jaw dropped and I swear he almost fell backwards had Jisung not been there to catch him.

“So, what is your collection called?” The boy Felix pointed out to me as Chan asked. Felix proudly wrapped an arm around my waist as I guided the group to the first piece.

“It’s called Little Stars.” Felix, blushed when I lightly pinched his cheek. The boys marveled at the first painting. It was one of Felix sitting in my window. It was the only piece in color. We moved on to the second piece. The photo I had shown Felix of him smiling. 

The next photo was a frame I had cropped to show just his eyes. Even in black and white Felix still managed to bring color and life with just a single look. “Wow, Felix! I had no idea you were this cool looking!” Minho said, marveling at the photograph. Felix kicked him as we moved forward. 

The second to last photo showed the painting I did on Felix’s back. He was completely turned away from the camera, but you could see my hands on his shoulder and waist. I had edited the photo so just my hands and arms were seen. Felix smiled and kissed the top of my head before the both of us led the group to the exhibit finale.

“DAMN FELIX!” Jisung yelled.

“Jisung. We are in an art gallery. Don’t yell.” Chan scolded.

“Sorry, but Felix got game.”

I laughed and looked at the photo; it was my favorite. Felix was half turned towards me but you could still see the nebula and stars on his back, his hand was gripping my waist tightly and he smiled down at me, our foreheads pressed together. You could see my fingers pulling away from the base of his hair, giving movement to the photo.

“This is incredible, Y/n.” 

“Well, it’s all you so I should say so.” He kissed my cheek with that bright smile of his. “You really are my shooting star. I’m getting everything I could ever wish for.”

✧

Requests are open, my lovelies!

Masterlist

[ask-jokeboi]

The Party

Hope everyone's having a great holiday season so far! This time of year isn't always easy but thankfully friends and a good distraction can make things easier. 

I drew these pic’s to pair with a moderately long fic I wrote to follow up the aforementioned party from earlier, it’s below the the cut! Read it if you want! Either way, Happy Holidays! 💜💚💛

Words: 4,142    Relationships: Harlivy /Harley & Joker friendship / Batjokes (mentioned)     Universe: Mine / Lego Batman

A/N: sorry for any typos or weird grammatical stuff, I'm good at art, not writing

Summary: Joker’s felt a little down since Batman’s been out of town, will his best friend Harley be able to cheer him up?

Warnings: Alcohol use, implied depression

_____________________

"C'mon Jay it'll be be fun!" Cheered Harley, mustering all the enthusiasm she could in an attempt to persuade Gotham's former clown prince of crime to pull himself together 

"I don't care!…. Go bother your girlfriend or something. Leave me alone…" He was currently piled under several layers of blankets, sunk deep into the ball pit he called a bed

"Nuh uh, I'm not haulin' my butt outta this room 'till you haul yours. You can stay in that pit and cry all ya like, but it won't fix nothin', you gott-"

"I don't GOTTA do anything!" Jay snapped. Throwing his blanket aside and revealing his less than kempt appearance, his face twisted into a frustrated glare

Harley, already familiar with Jay's usual harmless outbursts only sighed as she looked her long time friend up and down, taking in his surroundings with a curious eye

It'd been a month or two since Batman left the scene and his absence was definitely beginning to take a toll on the poor clown.

She could tell it'd been a while since he'd done anything to care for himself…. His hair, which was usually swept back into a flawless green pomp, lazily draped his face. The dull forest black of his roots beginning to seep back into the rest of it. Same could be said for the state his room which, due to his erratic nature, was always a bit untidy  but had recently fallen into a state of near disrepair. Bags of half eaten junk food and empty bottles of all sorts of things lay strewn across the floor, particularly around his half deflated bed.

Despite the mess, he still seemed a little...thin… more so than usual to be honest… his ribs visible beneath the loose shirt he wore, arms comparable to sticks despite the muscle.

most of all though, he just seemed... tired. Jay always looked tired out of makeup. It was one of the first things she'd managed to take note of when he'd first entered her office years ago…. But right now the purple rings beneath his eyes that never seemed to go away were deepened to a point that made it clear he wasn't getting much sleep or doing much for himself in general...

Seeing her best friend in a state like this was hard to witness… and although her partner, Ivy, didn't have much but mild disdain for Jay, Harley couldn't find it in herself to leave him like this… which is why she thought a party might lift his spirits a little 

"C'mooon! You love parties!! It'll just be a small one anyway!" It was actually much bigger than she was implying but Jay liked big and she didn't wanna scare him off too soon… 

"Yeah, like that'll make things any better… who did you even invite?? A good half of the rogues don't even like me…"

"Sure they do!"

Jay only looked at her, bereft and unimpressed. 

"I mean ok you and Riddler don't always get along and it took a lot a beggin' ta get ya un-banned from the iceberg lounge but still!!"

"Uhg whatever! It doesn't matter! I don't need those bozos seein' me like this anyway..."

"Like what?" 

"I don't know!  I'm just…... I'm not in the right… mood for something like that right now.... You know how this works… they'd see right through me. "

Back when Jay was still her patient they'd end up talking a lot about masks…Batman's would come up more often than not but every now and then he'd end up discussing his own…. Or more specifically, the metaphorical one he'd put on every time he picked up a brush and painted himself a new face…..

"Jay, sweetie…  you don't have to pretend to be okay… they won't think you're weak or nothin', you know that right?..."

Jay gave her an incredibly tired look before turning away.

"What happened to the Jay that wasn't afraid to let people know how he's feelin' huh? The one that turned every emotion into a show….?"

He kept his head down, shoulders stiff, before speaking...

"....Cause I'm not just sad this time…. " As he looked up slowly an emotion that was rarely seen on the mans face showed itself, flooding his eyes. 

"W- when I'd talked to Robin and Batgirl that last time and asked about Batman they gave each other this look and…. Something's wrong… he's in trouble or something I… I can feel it…..  W-what if he doesn't come back and he leaves me here all alone an-" 

Harley put a polished nail up to Jay's lips and smiled warmly.

"Shhhh…. You're worryin' too much puds… ur big dumb brain is just an overdramatic liar… don't listen to it okay?" 

Jay sniffled, giving her an understanding nod.

"You still got me an' your crew an' Bud and all the other little silly things that make ya days good doncha?"

He smiles halfheartedly. "Y-yeah…. But still… he was..."

"I know… he's special….but do you seriously think anything out there could actually kill Batman? THE Batman? C'mon now….  He's luckier than any bastard out there and you know it…"

"Yeah…. Yeah I guess ur right"

"Of COURSE I'm right!… now come on…" she offers her hand and helps her friend stand up. "Let's get that hair done and those nails shined up  so you're brain can take a break from making all those nasty thoughts" 

Jay smiled a little wider this time, forever grateful he had a friend as great as Harley around… he really didn't know what he'd do without her sometimes...

"Right…. Also… uh…. Harley?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for….uh…. Bein'... around… I guess…" Jay practically mumbled...

Harley smiled knowingly, amused with his poor attempt of gratitude

"No problem, Pud's….." she gave him a peck on the forehead leaving a black smudge behind 

"now enough mush...Let's clean this mess and get ya fabbed up"

________________

A few hours later, Jay stood outside the titular iceberg lounge in his best winter fit, a long boa around his shoulders and a pair of unnecessary sunglasses obscuring the mascara he'd only half ruined on the way there…. 

He truly, honestly, did not feel like socializing with anyone at the moment, but who was he to refuse a doctor's orders?....

Taking a deep breath of the cold winter air, Jay stiffened up, smoothed the wrinkles from his vintage memphis style sweater and entered the lounge, heels high and head high as he could manage 

____________

When the doors swung open with a swirl of winter snow, Jay was greeted by a surprisingly full and stunningly silent room. Christmas music cut through the tension like a knife as everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to Joker's fashionably late arrival.

He didn't know if it was because of his natural ability to demand attention or the fact that he hadn't been seen in nearly 3 weeks, but for some reason the room seemed slightly on edge. worried he'd come with another Joker brand surprise perhaps. Thankfully, Harley, who'd left his place a little earlier to get everything ready, noticed who'd finally arrived.

"JJ!! YOU MADE IT!!" she leaped off her stool and came running to grab him, The rest of the room taking it as a cue to un-tense and to go back to their festivities, the lounge lighting up  with warm greetings and laughter.

" Hey…" said Jay as Harley put an arm around his shoulder and escorted him to the booth she was sitting at….  

"So… is all of this for me or…?"

"No, did she tell you that?" Ivy who was sitting at the booth with his other less than fond acquaintance, Catwoman and someone else he didn't seem to recognize, gave a snide smile, Jay suddenly felt he should probably sit someplace else

"IVY!! SHHH" Harley shushed

"What? He was gonna find out out eventually…. It was supposed to be Penguin's annual winter ball" 

"Uh,It still is tho…?" said Kat, mouth full of shrimp 

"Well, yah…. Difference is we had to 'finesse' Penguin into letting HIM in" Ivy explained, disdain in her voice

"And you... helped with that?..." asked Jay, surprised. Ivy sighed

"for Harley's sake, yes. not yours" 

Jay smiled, amused. "well how charitable of you, here's to hoping you won't regret it"

Ivy rolled her eyes. "As if I don't already" she said, taking a short sip from her drink, Harley sitting down next to her give her thank u peck on the cheek.

"Hey, why'd you get banned from this dump anyway?" Asked Kat, eyes squinting curiously 

"I have no idea…." Jay shrugged 

"He put a coke and mento bomb in the fountain!" Harley interrupted 

"Oh yeah…." He'd totally forgot

"Ha! Awesome…" 

"Right uh, anyway, who the hell are you?" Jays attention suddenly turned to the woman sitting opposite of kat. She had light blue skin, bright white eyes and hair that made her look like a human lighting rod.

"Name's Livewire." She said, voice sharp as her appearance 

"She's from Metropolis" explained Ivy. Jay rose a brow.

"Metropolis huh?? How'dya like dealin' with boy scout full time over there?" He quizzed 

"Sweet!…" she exclaimed enthusiastically "Big blue aint got a thing on me! 'sides, dweeb's been outta town for months now! metropolis might as well be my personal playground"

The mentioning of Superman's absence made something in Jay's chest twist. He'd known their neighbor hero had been MIA for even longer than Batman, Supergirl taking over the workload just like Batgirl had in Gotham. but still… the reminder was enough to worry him. I mean… if superman was taking so much time up there, what chance did Batman have against whatever it was they were so busy with??

Trying his best to shake off the uneasiness building in his stomach Jay took a breath and snapped back to reality, offering Livewire his hand

"Well, uh... Livewire, i'm this city's head honcho while the bat's gone so welcome to Gotham and try not to wear it out" 

Harley and Ivy exchanged looks as Jay smiled slyly and took Livewires hand…

...Only for his usual gesture of hospitality to be met with an equally shocking grip that sent blue sparks flying in every direction.

"DAMN, what the- !! " Jay yanked his hand back and held it in pain, hot needles running up his arm.The new addition to Harley's crew laughed crudely and smiled

 "why do you think they call me 'LIVEWIRE' genius?" 

Jay stayed silent with defeat as the table went up in hysterics "Yeah fine, okay, I shoulda saw that one coming" he sighed and smoothed out his hair which had sprung up to stand on end, his face ever so slightly red "anyway, you ladies have a nice time… i'll set up shop somewhere else and let you guys… idk… flirt with each other or whatever..." without much fanfare he slunk off to sit someplace else.

After the table had settled down completely though, Harley noticed Jay making his way to the bar looking somewhat dejected.

"Aw Jay…." 

The rest curiously turned their attention to the direction of Harley's gaze.

"You're not going after him are you?" Asked Ivy after a beat.

"Well… yeah…?" Harley shrugged.

"Uhm, why?" Asked kat, dipping more shrimp into her cocktail "like if he's not in the mood for a joke that's kinda his problem…?"

"Yeah, but still…. I've never seen 'im like this for so long…. He's usually so funny and animated, it's like somethin' drained all the life out of 'im…." The concern on Harley's face was very apparent. Ivy brushed back a few strands of her hair and tried her best to reassure her.

"Look i'm sure he'll get his second wind when Batman comes back at some point… but ‘til then it's not your job to take care of him…" 

Harley sighed silently. "I know but… he's still my best friend… and if I hadn't met him, I wouldn'ta met you!" She squished close to her spouse with a smile, Ivy suddenly unable to hold back a small one herself.

"He helped me outta my slump all those years ago, least I can do is help 'im outta his..."

Ivy gave her a soft look before reluctantly caving "Kindness has always been your best and worst trait, silly bee…" she said with a smirk "fine, go ahead and do your thing, I've got plenty of company over here in the meantime…"

Harley smiled happily and gave her one last kiss before running off to join Jay at the bar.

____________

Jay sat alone at the bar in silence until he was suddenly startled by Harley's arrival.

 "What's shakin' grumpy gills?" She asked pulling up a stool.

Jay didn't answer as the bartender slid over a funfetti martini topped with the works, Jay lazily catching it and drinking deeply.

"Those guys didn't get ta ya did they? I know they seem mean bu- "

"Ah… I don't care about them…" said Jay dismissively  "we're all villains here right? I'm sure they got their reasons… sides, Livewire's pretty fun even if she did fry my Joy buzzer" He said regretfully…

"So what's up then…?" Asked Harley, head tilted 

Jay looked down at the table with a frown, fingers anxiously scraping the side of the glass in his hand….

"What she'd said about metropolis…. And… superman…."

"Oh…"  Harley nodded "well…. I'm sure they're together wherever they are…. Right? Him and Batman? And I mean, with Superman around, he's bound to be okay….." 

Jay had a hard time matching her enthusiasm but that logic did comfort him some. "Yeah… yeah I guess so"

"C'mon Jay, you gotta get that stuff off your mind for a minute! Go mingle! Go dance!… look at everyone who came this time! Turn-out's never been so big!"

As Jay's looked around the room, Harley did have a point, usually these get-togethers only managed to scrounge up about half the gang, but it looked like almost all the rogues in town had come this time. Even D-listers like Polkadot man, Killer Moth, Crazy Quilt ect. Had managed to show up, plus people he didn't seem to recognize…

For example at the bar sat Scarecrow and a… Oddly scruffy looking man he looked to be sharing a drink with. He'd heard from Riddler over the phone some time ago that crow had found himself a friend and that the two were "in cahoots".  whatever that was supposed to mean. He supposed that must've been the "friend" in question…

A few tables down sat another unfamiliar  in a polkadot shirt and a pair of cracked thick lensed glasses. He had a peculiar looking puppet sitting on his lap which made J raise a brow, but he didn't judge. Looking at his woefully nervous face he guessed it must it must've been a security thing anyway… 

Despite the big crowd though, Jay did notice one person missing of whom he hadn't seen in quite a while...

"Yeah I guess everyone is here...  except uh, Lex I guess…?" Jay considered himself friends with metropolises king of corruption, even if the feeling wasn't always mutual. Seeing so many crooks he knew in one place made him realize how rare it was to see the mal hearted mogul at these things.

Unfortunately, Harley could only shrug with defeat. "Ah I tried to get Lex but you know how he is… nobody's seen that shut in for ages".

Jay's eyes narrowed at that "How long is ages…. ?" He pressed

"I dunno… a few months guess???  Livewire said he's been quiet lately, probably off in one of his labs making some over convoluted instrument of destruction I guess"

The growing list of missing big shots was beginning to piece something together in Jay's head… what on earth was Lex up to? Where was superman?? Why did the league need Batman's help? How did it all connect?? After a moment Harley noticed Jay slipping into his thoughts again and shook his shoulder lightly to pull him out of it.

"Hey, don't worry about that egghead. he'd only kill the mood if he were here anyway" 

Jay couldn't disagree, the billionaire was kind of notorious for being a giant stick in the mud.

"If you're really worried about what's goin' on with those guys, you can come up with a plan Tomorrow…. right now we got a' open dance floor, unlimited drinks and a Karaoke competition that's about ta kick off in ten"

The word 'Karaoke' was enough to snap Jay back to reality. "Did you say Karaoke?" 

"Yes, I did."

"Do they hav-"

"Yes, they have Queen" 

Jay nearly looked as if someone had told him the best news of his life. "Oh thank god" maybe Harley was right. Worrying would have to wait. 

_____________

The rest of the night went on with few hang ups. Drinks poured, music played and poorly screeched lyrics kept the mood upbeat.

The Karaoke stage hosted performance after performance, some more enthusiastic than others. Some painful, others surprisingly pleasant. Jay's teetered off the edge of both categories, but when "somebody to love" burst through those speakers, he'd sung it with his whole chest. The best performance by a long shot though had to be Ivy's who's affinity for 50's ballads lent to her beautifully rich voice and her's was closely followed by the Dent's who'd decided to attempt a duet with no chorus which everyone found somewhat impressive.

Emotions did flare up once or twice though, as they tend to do when it comes to villain gatherings. Ed and Jay got into a fight about something stupid and unimportant, both obviously enjoying themselves, Bane and Croc engaged in an arm wrestle that woefully ended in a tie, and Jay inevitably got worked up about Batman again, this time with a crowd of eager listeners somewhat entertained by his rambling, giving questionable advice here and there.

At the get-together's height, the dance floor had filled to the point where Penguin was just about ready to call the whole event off until Riddler dragged him on to the floor himself.

After another hour or so the party wound down some more and the night devolved into quiet discussions between friends, everyone either ready to leave or half asleep. Eventually Jay and Two-face of all people were left alone. Once Ed, Crow, Hatter and the rest had gone home.

Jay always liked Harv, for someone known for his temper he seemed to have a lot of patience and Jay found both of his selves uniquely interesting in their own ways. Harvey the "handsome" one was always very nice, easily flustered, and had a sadness in his eyes that was hard to ignore. "Dent", the one famous for all those 2 themed crimes, was a bold individual and one of the most brutally honest people he knew. That night though, even he seemed a little sad. He admitted later that it was because it'd been a while since he'd gotten to talk to his old pal Bruce, someone Jay was mildly familiar with of course, and they spent the rest of the night discussing Batman and wayne and how they seemed so similar until it really was time to head home. 

 sometime after midnight, long after everyone had either left or found someplace to pass out, Harley broke up with her girl gang again to come get Jay who'd fallen asleep in an empty booth.

"Wake up clown" she said loudly, nudging him a bit. Jay giggled quietly in response, turning over after a moment and opening his eyes.

"Oohh what's up??"

"Time to go." 

"Aw…" Jay huffed disappointedly, then did his best to sit up straight, his head slowly spinning as he did so "ah jeeze…"

"Don't worry I called one of your guys, he's waiting outside." She explained "I dragged you here, might as well drag you home" 

"You did that for me?" Jay smiled "That's so nice…."

"Mhm" carefully, she took his hand got him to his feet, doing her best to keep him up straight. As they headed out they met up with Ivy at the door

"Taking pennywise home?" She asked 

"It'll only take a minute" Harley assured 

"Alright… don't take too long…" she turned to leave but before she could, Jay suddenly spoke up.

"H-hey, Wait!" 

Ivy turned around, brow raised "You have something to say to me?"

"Uh… yeah? I mean… sort of? I just, uh… wanted to say i'm sorry for…  messing up your garden all those times…." 

Ivy blinked "Why are you telling me this now?"

"I just thought you shud kno….  And that um…. Maybe you'd hate me…. A little less... if I said sorry for once..." the frown on Jays face was absolutely pitiful, Ivy could only roll her eyes.

"I don't hate you… Joker"

"Oh?"

"I just think you're annoying…."

"Oh…." Jay couldn't really tell if that was any better but at the moment he was too drunk to care. "Okay…"

With that ivy turned around to join Kat and Livewire

"Thanks for the apology though I suppose…Take care of yourself…. And, Harley don't take too long… it's only 1:00am we still have plans."

"Don't worry Ive's  i'll catch up." 

after one last look, Ivy went back on her way and Harley continued walking J to his car.

As they went Jay hummed to himself, swaying slightly, until a certain thought made him go quiet again.

"....Harley….?" He asked suddenly.

"Yeah, J?"

"Am I a bad friend?" The question just as out of the blue as his apology to Ivy…. 

Harley looked at him, concerned "Why do ya ask?"

"I just…. Please?" He pleaded. Harley hesitated for a long moment but decided being honest was probably best.

" not exactly but… maybe sometimes"

"Hm…" Jay decided he'd have to work on that

"But I also know ya don't really wanna hurt anybody…. That you try your best everyday ta make people happy and that you've been through just as much any of us….  A few mean comments an' dumb pranks ain't gonna make anybody think you're the devil or somethin'….not me or any of the other guys... "

Jay had to smile at that, Harley always had something smart or nice to say no matter what. still, her answer only made him feel worse about how he'd been earlier when she was just trying to help… he really, honestly, didn't deserve her…. But the least he could do was let her know he was glad to have her...

"Harley…?"

"Yeah, J…"

"Thanks for being really, really great all the time… and… y'know… around… " Harley smiled as she secured his arm around her shoulders. 

"Thanks J..." 

"also sorry for sucking sometimes..."

She sighed. "It's fine Jay…."

carefully, she hauled his ragdolling body a few more feet and shoved him into the back seat of his car. J grunting as his head hit the leather seat.

"Now go home an' try not to get lost on your way to the door" She said sternly. Jay gave her a lazy wink and a pair of wobbly finger guns.

"Gotcha." 

with that,Harley slammed the door shut and the J-Mobile's engine roared to life. One his lackeys sitting in the driver's seat.

"Where to boss? HQ?"

"Yup… ah, sorry t' call ya out so late…"

"S'alright boss…. Don't worry about it"

As the car lurched forward, street lights shining in through the windows as snow fell ever so lightly over Gotham like a dusting of fresh powdered sugar, Jay did inevitably start thinking about Batman again, wondering when he'd come back, desperately wishing he knew anything about where he was right now….

The thoughts were hard to ignore and when he got home he knew he'd be surrounded by the same walls he'd spent the last month trapped with them in….  even so, the world felt a little less washed out than it had before he left, and it wasn't just because of the alcohol swirling in his blood. 

He may not have had Batman... But today reminded him he wasn't alone.

He had friends… real friends… In a way he'd always considered them such… but deep down there was always doubt. I mean sure he got along better with some than others, but after knowing people so long he shouldn't have been so dumb to think they hated him as much as he thought they did. 

When you're a villain in Gotham sometimes all you have are other weirdos in the same boat as you to help keep you and everyone else afloat. People need people in more ways than one…  and as Jay drifted off to sleep in the back of his gaudy getaway vehicle, laying in a position that was just barely comfortable, he pushed his worries aside and made sure that was something he'd never let himself forget.

~ End ~

[thewildomega]

Doughnut of lies ch. 3

Hearing a bunch of noise from out back you furrowed your brows and hopped down from the stool you had been standing on. Walking to the door you peeked outside to see nothing out of the ordinary. It was raining heavily per usual, maybe t was just the thunder. Going to shut the door you heard the strange noise again and swallowed hard. Looking to the bedroom door you bit your lip. Walking over you grabbed your mother's sword and struggled to hold it up. Opening the door you walked outside and saw the door to the small shed was cracked open. Looking down to the ground you noticed the footprints in the mud. Another notice made your eyes snap back up to the shed, something was in there. You didn't want to bother your mama, she was tired enough as it was, she needed rest. No you would have to be brave like she always told you to be. Taking a deep breath you walked over to the door and stuck your mother's sword into the crack before swinging it open and holding the sword up to strike whatever was inside but before you could get a good look you were being tackled to the ground. Letting out a gasp you dropped the sword and felt the mud soak into your clothes.

Feeling your fight or flight instincts kick in you lashed out at whatever was attacking you, punching and smacking at your attacker. "Gaaa!" you cried out when the other what you now guess to be a person hit your chest. Growling you swung your leg up to kick the person from you. Following after them you landed a hard punch to their cheek but felt your knuckles get cut open as they hit something sharp. Whimpering you were shoved back and rolled around on the wet and muddy ground, continuing to fight what could possibly be your life with the stranger.

"I THINK HE WENT THIS WAY!"

The sound of men yelling made the both of you stop your fight and you felt the 'he' freeze.

"FIND HIM! HE'LL FETCH A HIGH PRICE IN THE AUCTION HOUSE!"

Shoving him from you you grabbed the sword and hurried form the house. You knew who those voices belonged to, you couldn't let them get you, mama had told you what they would do, they'd sell you. But that boy, they were trying to get him to sell him too. Stopping you saw him trying to find somewhere to hide, instantly going to your shed again. He had been hiding there. "Come on get inside. Hurry up before they get you." you told him. Seeing him look towards you but not move you ran back over and grabbed the front of his shirt before dragging him back into your small house. You didn't look to him as you hurried up and put the sword back where it went and went to blow out the candle. Hearing a loud knock on the door you stiffened. Looking to the boy you swallowed hard, "Go hide." you whispered. As soon as he moved you made your way to the door, you whole body shaking. Three more loud bangs on the door and you reached for the knob to open it. Looking up at the large male you licked your lips, "h..hello..."

"Well hello there girlie... we are looking for a boy, stole somethin' in town, have ya seen him?" he asked in a raspy voice.

Shaking your head you heard him let out a deep hum.

"Ya sure are mighty dirty darlin'..."

"Boss, there's some tracks over here in the mud leading to the shed." one of the other men behind him said.

Growling he looked back to the little girl, "You wouldn't be lying would ya little one? You know lying is bad, I'd have to punish ya if ya were..." he said pulling a knife from his belt.  

"I'm not lying..."

"What's going on sweetie? Who's at the door?"

Snapping your eyes back to the bedroom door you saw your mother making her way over you. A sense of relief came over you as she moved beside you and looked to the man.

"Vernon what are you doing here so late at night?" your mother asked, trying to make her voice sound stronger.

"Well Miss Selena I was just askin' your daughter here if she had seen a young boy we are lookin' for, the lad stole somethin' from one of the shops in town and..."

"There is no boy here Vernon."

"You sure miss, my boys found some tracks out by yer shed there and..."

"It was me mama, I went out to close the shed door. I left it open earlier and the wind was blowing it so I went to go shut it but I slipped in the mud." You quickly spoke, looking up at her.

"Firefly I told you not to go outside by yourself..."

"I know, I'm sorry mama." you said, looking down.

Sighing she rubbed her dirty hair and went to speak again before she was overcome with a coughing fit.

Furrowing your brows when you mother had to hold onto the door just to keep upright you saw the man scrunch up his face and step back.

"Mmmm well I won't bother ya anymore Miss. Girly, ya see that boy and ya let me know now okay." he said, giving the girl a hard look.

Nodding you quickly shut the door and locked it. Helping your mother back to her bed you pulled the blankets over her and looked down at her pale face when her hand cupped your cheek. "I'm sorry to wake you mama."

"Oh don't you apologize. I don't want you answering that door okay." she said and saw her nod.

"I warmed up that soup you made..."

"Thank you firefly but I'm not very hungry... You eat okay. Eat and then take a bath and then go to bed. Don't you go out anymore."

"Yes mama." you whispered.

Smiling she brushed back her blonde hair and sighed. "I love you y/n."

"I love you too mama." you smiled. Seeing her heavy eyes close you leaned down to kiss her cheek before pulling the blankets up and walking out, closing the door behind you. Looking out to the empty room you sighed, "You can come out now." you said in a quiet voice. Seeing a boy who looked to be the same age as you climb out from under the table you slowly moved towards him. He kept his face down but his crimson eyes watched you closely. Coming to stand in front of him you saw he was wearing threadbare clothes and was covered in mud like you. His hair was red and tilting your head you looked closer to his mouth.

"Want to get any closer?" he snapped, lifting his face to look at the girl and giving her a good look at his teeth.

Gasping a little you looked at his sharp teeth.

Seeing the little girl smile he readied himself for some kind of joke or mean comment but instead she only looked to his eyes and gave him the sweetest smile he had ever seen.

"Cool. I wish I had teeth like that."

Staring blankly at the weird girl he blinked a few times, not use to someone saying something positive about his mouth.

"My name is y/n, what's yours?" you grinned.

"K..Katakuri."

Looking back to the pot on the stove you sighed, no use in it going to waste. "Are you hungry Katakuri?" you asked and saw him only stand there before you giggled, "Come on, I'll make us some. How old are you?"

Shaking his head he followed the strange girl to the table, "Six."

"Really? I'll be six in a few months...."

............................

"HE HIT HER?!" Brulee and Peros yelled.

"Yep." Oven hummed, sitting in the chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Bbbut... big brother has never layed a hand on her..." Brulee stuttered.

"I don't even think I have ever seen him yell at her..." Peros added.

"Well he did." Oven grunted.

"Said a bunch of hurtful things to her as well." Daifuku said, sitting beside his brother.

"No wonder she left..." Perospero sighed.

""I just don't understand, this is so unlike him. It is obvious he loves Y/n...." " Oven said with a shake of his head.

"He's been in love with her since we were kids, both of them have..." Daifuku huffed.

"Yes but they are both too stubborn and worried about their own insecurities to confess." Brulee told them then thought of something and looked to the two of three triplets sitting on the couch, "Did he call Nebula his love?" she asked with furrowed brows.

Thinking back Oven hummed and nodded. "Yea... I think he did."

"Also called her his wife." Daifuku

"Well that's strange considering he didn't even want to be in the same room as her." Peros told them.

Knitting his brows Oven lifted his hand to rub his short beard, "You know come to think of it Katakuri was acting perfectly normal until she showed up, he was even trying to shake her off when she kept trying to touch him..."

"She always seems to be clinging to him, like she is some kind of leech or something." Daifuku scoffed.

"Her parents are the same way... it's like the moment she walks into the room their all over her, catering to her every need."

Humming Oven knit his brows in thought. "There is something strange going on with her no doubt about it. I say we keep an eye on her, Katakuri as well." he said and saw them all nod.

.....................................

Letting out a long sigh you stared down into the amber liquid, trying to ignore the rowdy crowd of the pub you had chosen for the night. Docking at this small unnamed island a day ago most of your crew had set out to do their own thing while you sulked in your own depression at the pub. It was not the best place to be in so late at night, especially when you were actually an omega but trusting your necklace to keep your true status hidden and leaning your sword up against your table as a warning you had thankfully been left alone thus far. Although you couldn't help but feel like you were being watched, huffing you grabbed your glass, who the hell cares anymore. Tossing back your drink you waved down one of the waitresses for a refill. Closing your eyes you thought back for the thousandth time, trying to recall anything about your past.

................................

Dabbing at your mother's forehead you sniffled. She was getting cold, her skin clammy feeling. "Mama do you want me to make you some soup?" you asked. Remembering how when you were sick she had made you some and told you it would make you feel better. Watching her heavy, sunken eyes flutter open you licked your lips.

"N..no baby. T..thank you though." she told you and then started coughing again.

Hanging your head you grabbed the glass of water from the side table and brought it to her cracked lips. Once she had gotten her fill you placed it back on the table and moved to hold her large hand. "Mama when are you gonna be better?" you asked in a cracking voice. She just looked at you for some time her eyes filling with tears. When her other hand came up to brush back your unruly blond hair you leaned into her touch.

"You look so much like your father, hair and all but your eyes... your eyes are mine at least." she smiled weakly.

Grinning you looked to her neck, seeing the faint scar there from her claiming mark and swallowed hard. Going to speak she cut you off again.

"I want you to have this.." she said, removing her necklace and holding it out with her shaking hands.

Leaning down so she could out it on you you looked down at the stone that hung low around your neck. Feeling strange with it now on you furrowed your brows and looked to her.

"I know it feels strange but you must keep it on at all times. You remember what I told you about keeping your status a secret, about the bad people that will want to take you?" she asked and you nodded your head. "This stone is a very special stone, it will hide you, make it seem like you are a beta..." she said and covered a cough.

"Like everybody else?" you asked.

"That's right baby. You will be safe and will be able to get treated right so you keep int on okay?" she asked and you nodded again. "Promise me y/n."

"I promise mama."

"Good girl." she sighed, her eyes fluttering and her hand on your face falling but her hand holding yours tightened a little. "I love you so much y/n, you know that right?" she asked in a soft voice.

Nodding you sniffled, "I love you too mama."

"You are such a sweet girl, don't let this world ever stop you from being kind." she whispered, her eyes closing.

"Mama..."

"I'm sorry firefly... I... can't stay.... find your father... find Ed..."

"Mama?" you asked when she didn't finish his name. "Mama find who?" you asked. Looking to her you saw her eyes closed, her hand that had been holding yours now limp. "Mama?!" you called, tears filling your eyes. Crawling over to her you gently shook her but she didn't wake up. "Mama?" you cried. "Mama wake up." you sobbed. "Please mama... don't leave me!" curling up beside her on the bed you laid your head on her still chest and cried.

.............................

It had been your friend Katakuri that had found you there hours later. The boy you had befriended over the past three months. He had come to bring you food, his siblings and him having been staying in your home to hide form the slavers and wait their own mother's return. Your mother had not been too thrilled but she had opened her home to the children once you told her he was your friend. He had seemed to quickly realize your mother had passed and you were in fact laying beside her lifeless body in shock. Carrying you to your own room he and his brothers had been able to dig a grave for your mother and carry her outside to be laid to rest. He had stayed by your side all night while you wept, even helping you make a cross out of some sticks you had found. A few weeks later their mother returned to the island where she had dropped them all off at. When the notorious Big Mom had said they were leaving Katakuri had quickly told her that you would be coming with them, Perospero quickly coming to his aid and explaining everything you had done to them and that you had no one else. She had merely rolled her eyes and proclaimed that you were Katakuri's responsibility. The two of you had been inseparable since, the only time you were apart being when you had decided to go look for your father when you were sixteen.

Not surprisingly the memory had done nothing but bring you more pain. Pain remembering your mother's death and pain in realizing that for the first time since you were five you no longer had you best friend. Rubbing your face you sighed. She had never spoken of your father before her deathbed. All you knew was the words she had spoken that night. You looked like him, or at least you had. He had blond hair that you had inherited and his name started 'Ed'. Where the hell did you go from that?

"Edwin? Edgar? Edain? Eddison? E..."

"Edward actually." a casual voice said.

Snapping your eyes up to the male voice you saw a tall man standing in front of your table. He wore a yellow stripped suit with a high collared yellow shirt underneath. There was a small amount of scruff along his chin and upper lip and he had a very relaxed looking face. Furrowing your brows at the male you saw him give you a smile.

Placing his hand on the back of the other chair he smiled at the girl. "Mind if I sit with you for a moment?" he asked.

Before you even answered he had pulled out the chair and sat in it. "I'm sorry but do I know you?"

Chuckling he looked to the girl and smiled, "Ooohhh we have met before, although you were too young to remember." he told her and then sighed softly, "My name is Borsalino, most call me Kizaru..."

Stiffening at the name of the vice admiral you saw him still remained relaxed.

"...but you y/n, can call me uncle." he said with a proud smile.

...................................

Sitting at the long table with the rest of her siblings, mother and Nebula's family, Brulee narrowed her eyes. Something was going on, and looking to her other siblings she knew they saw it as well. Their brother, Katakuir was just sitting there at the table with the woman hanging on his arm, or holding his hand, always she was touching some part of him. Their mother had at one point brought up y/n's departure and the alpha male had seemed to come out of whatever state of mind he was stuck in, his eyes quickly looking over all the faces in the room and his brows tightly knit together but before he could say a word Nebula had grabbed his hand again...

"Yes it is sad she left, I thought we were going to hit it off and become friends but she was rather unkind to me. Wasn't she honey?" she asked, looking into Katakuri's eyes.

"Yes. I am glad she is gone." he had said making even his mother raise her brows.

That wasn't all either, her family was acting just as strange. Whenever one of them was asked something about their home island or family life they always looked to Nebula. The female was always the one to answer the questions as well, even when they were directed to either her mother or father.

Bouncing his knee under the table Oven looked down to the beat female and raised his chin. "So Mrs. Verxion what was Nebula like as a child?" he asked. Just as he could have guessed the woman kept up that plastered on smile and looked to her daughter for the answer any normal mother would know.

"I was a kin..."

"I actually asked your mother Nebula not you." Oven cut her off, his eyes narrowing. Looking back to the older woman he rose his brow.

"Whatever Nebula says is the truth." the woman said, her smile never faltering.

Nebula was quick to laugh it off before going into a long story of her seemingly perfect childhood. Looking to his siblings they all shared a look and knew none other them were buying it.

Walking down the hall with Oven, Daifuku and Perospero, Brulee grit her teeth. "So what are we going to do now? This is obviously some big scam. The bitch is doing something to big brother and I am pretty certain she has the rest of her so called family under her spell as well."

"We should just kill her." Oven said.

"No, we can't do that, not without showing mama that she is lying otherwise she will drain all of us for ruining her plans." Perospero told them.

"What are you all scheming about?" Cracker asked, quickly walking up to the rest of his siblings.

"Nothing that you need to worry about." Daifuku said, not wanting to involve another one of their siblings in this mess.

"Aww come on, I'm older than Brulee, I should be allowed to scheme too." he grinned.

Huffing out Oven looked to Brulee, "We need to talk about this in a safer place."

Understanding Brulee pulled them all through the nearest mirror so they could figure our their next move.

.................................

grabbing the entire bottle from the waitress as she passed by you quickly filled your glass and swallowed down the amber liquid. Looking back up at the man, your uncle, you shook your head. "So let me just see if I got this all correct... My mother was a marine..."

" A captain to be more precise but yes." Borsalino grinned, tilting his head.

"Right. Okay and my father's name is Edward Newgate... otherwise known as Whitebeard?!" you asked, looking to him with wide eyes.

"Yes, although you may want to keep it down a firefly." he said, scratching at his cheek and glancing around the shady pub.

"What did you call me?" you asked in a whisper. Hearing him hum you licked your lips, "You called me firefly.."

Smiling he looked to his niece, "Yes, your mother called you that all the time." he told her.

Swallowing hard you took a deep breath.

"I am sure you have some questions y/n and I will answer them as best I can." Reaching into his inside pocket he pulled out the contents and placed them on the table in front of her. "I also have these for you, letters that your mother and father wrote each other." he told her.

Reaching for the letters you looked down and saw your mother's hand writing and grinned.

"I also have this for you..." Placing the ring in her hand he sighed, "He gave that to her when he asked her to marry him."

Looking down at the gold ring with a large opal set in the middle of it, surrounded by little blue sapphires, you smiled and ran your thumb over the smooth stone. "They were married?" you asked.

Sighing he looked at her, "No, they never got the chance." seeing her confusion he grinned softly, "It would be easier if I started from the beginning." When she nodded he smiled. "Well I suppose it started when your mother decided she was going to go after the famous Whitebeard..." he chuckled.

Over the next hour or more you listened to your uncle tell you about your mother. He told you how she was stubborn but kind, how she refused to let her status of an omega deiced her place in life. He told you about how her and your father played a game of cat and mouse for months and somewhere along the lines they had fell in love. The relationship between them, a marine and a pirate was taboo so they kept it hidden. Sneaking away to private locations when they could they wrote letters when they were away. When he had asked her to marry him, to give up her career of a marine she had asked him for another year, just one more year and he had accepted. During that time the world government had heard about them, along with a few pirate crews that were against Whitebeard's. Being pregnant with you she had ran, faked her own death before moving from island to island in all hopes you would be safe.

"...she never told him about you. As far as I know he thought she had died when she had faked her own death."

"But why wouldn't she had just went to him, wouldn't we had been safe with him?" you asked.

"She was going to go to him after a while, she wanted to wait until it was safer, wait until everything blew over... your father has many enemies y/n and the world government would never allow a child between a notorious pirate and one of their own Captains to live." he told her and saw her look down and nod. "I had talked to her a few months before she passed, she told me she planned on leaving soon, said she was going to go back to Edward. That she was going to bring her family together..."

"But she got sick before we could go..." you whispered, knowing the ending.

Humming he took a deep breath. "Yes. It seems they were tapping into our call. They sent an agent to go take are of you, I am guessing Selena took care of them since you are still alive but..."

"They got her." you said, having to force down the knot in your throat.

"Yes."

It was your fault, she had died because of you. It was supposed to be you. Feeling your eyes fill with tears you bit your lip.

"When I couldn't get up with her I went to the island you had both been on. I was told by the villagers that your mother had passed. When I went to the home I saw the grave but you were gone..."

Sniffling you nodded. "Big Mom took me in... Kat...her children they.. they were my friends."

"Yes I heard, you ended up with one of the emperors after all." he chuckled. "I have been trying to find you to give you those and tell you what your mother what have wanted you to know, the truth."

"Thank you." you told him, seeing him give you a warm smile.

"Now that you know the truth what will you do?" he asked her.

Thinking you looked down at the ring before looking back up at him. "Go meet him I suppose. I've been looking for my father all these years and know I finally know who he is." you grinned.

Chuckling he nodded and stood. "That is what I thought you would say, here."

Taking the piece of paper you smiled, a vivre card.

"This will lead you to him. When you see him, tell him I said Helllooo." he told her with a smile. Looking down at the girl he looked into the eyes that looked exactly like his sister's and sighed. "I am sorry that it took me this long to find you firefly... I'm sorry I wasn't there when you and your mother needed me. Not a day goes by when either of you were not in my thoughts."

Seeing how sad he was you stood and hugged him around his middle.

Shocked he tensed at first but then sighed and relaxed, moving his arms to hug her back. "Stay safe... and out of trouble, I am a Vice admiral after all."

Giggling you nodded. "Thank you...Uncle." you said and saw his smile grow. With a final goodbye you were making your way back to your ship, calling for your crew on the way. Holding out the piece of paper in your hand you saw it move northwest and smiled, time to go meet your father.

........................................

"Are we sure this is going to work? Peros asked in a hushed voice.

"It has too, there is no way she doesn't have devil fruit powers." Oven said.

"Yes and I have searched through every book in the library, there is no record of her so called island anywhere." Daifuku added.

"Do you have those missing peoples posters?" Brulee asked their oldest brother and saw him nod. "Cracker do you have the cuffs?"

"Yep." he smiled, holding up the two sets of sea prism handcuffs.

"Alright then, let's do this." Brulee nodded.

Opening the door to the large throne room he saw his mother, brother, Nebula and her parent in the room. His mother snapped her eyes over to them and frowned.

"What are you all doing here? We are discussing wedding details." Big Mom said, slamming down her fist on her armrest.

"I'm sorry mama but there is something we think you really need to see." Oven told her then looked to the beta woman. "That woman is lying to you and manipulating Katakuri..."

"What?! No! Katakuri loves me, I wouldn't manipulate him, isn't that right honey?" she asked.

"Yes." Katakuri said behind his scarf.

"Yea right." Cracker huffed, walking over to the woman to retrain her.

"Get your hands off of me! Don't touch me! Katakuri, are you going to let them do this to your wife to be?" she wined, her eyes looking into his red ones and her hand trying to reach out to touch him.

Seeing their brother go to defend the woman Oven and Daifuku hurried over ot grab him, catching the cuffs when Cracker tossed them a pair and snapping them on Katakuri's wrists before he could use his powers. Holding him tightly they struggled, even with the cuffs he was still strong as hell.

"What is going on here?!" Big Mom yelled.

"Mama that woman isn't who she says she is, she isn't from some rich family, they don't own a sugar cane plantation, those aren't even her real parents!" Brulee told her mother.

"YOU ARE ALL LYING?!" Nebula yelled before Cracker covered her mouth to keep her quiet.

"It's true mama look!" Peros said, quickly defending his sister and running towards his mother to show her the missing people posters of the man and woman that were supposedly Nebua's parents. "See that is them, Becky and Cho, they went missing over a year ago, look here are their real children and it says they are from the East blue." he showed her, letting her snatch the paper form him.

"That's not all mama, that island she told you she was from, I searched through every book in the library and I can' find anything on it, it doesn't exist." Daifuku said, still holding his struggling brother.

Steaming with anger Big Mom looked to the girl and then to her son who was acting like he had gone mad. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH KATAKURI?!" she yelled.

"Easy mama, this bitch has devil fruit powers. From what I can figure she is able to manipulate people. She has had big brother under her spell since the engagement party..." Cracker said. Snapping the cuffs on her and making Katakuri, her 'mother and father' all fall to the floor.

Groaning Katakuri went to try and rub hsi face but found his arms bound behind him. Snapping his eyes up he saw his siblings and mother there along with Nebula and her parents who were also on the floor. "What is going on?" he asked. "Why..why am I..."

"Here you go brother." Oven said as he unlocked the cuffs, holding out his hand and helping his brother up.

Looking around his eyes fell to Nebula and he felt enraged, all the memories from the past week coming back to him. "You! Conniving whore!" he growled, marching over to her.

"KATAKURI STOP!" Big Mom said.

Stopping he grit his teeth and starred daggers at the woman.

"THE TRUTH NOW!"

Panting Nebula snapped her eyes to the emperor. "You want the truth fine! Your stupid children were right about all of it.. there is no sugar cane plantation, there is no money and those pathetic worms over there aren't my parents. I lied about all of it so that I could marry into your powerful family. I would have slowly wiggled my way up and then before you knew it I would have had all of you as my slaves. It was so easy! It was the perfect plan!"

"Not so perfect considering it didn't work..." Oven huffed.

"It would have if hadn't been for that little bitch!" Nebula snapped. Smirking she looked back to Cracker. "Oh and you were wrong about one thing, My devil fruit isn't manipulation. I steal affection, I steal love." Looking back to Katakuri she smiled. "How do you think I made you fall head over heels for me? How do you think I had you in the palm of my hand?!... I took the love you have for that pathetic y/n as my own! That little omega that holds your heart, I made you forget her, break her and toss her aside like the trash she..."

Wrapping his hand around the woman's throat he lifted her up from the floor and snarled behind his scarf.

"Are you that stupid woman, you can't even tell a person's status?" Perospero chuckled.

Scratching at the alpha's hand she cut her eyes at the oldest Charlotte before she took notice of Brulee's look and smirked. "You are the stupid ones, all but you there Brulee, seems you and I are the only ones that know little y/n's secret."

Hearing the woman's words he and everyone else all looked to Brulee with wide eyes.

"No way...'

"Not possible..."

"Brulee?"

"IS IT TRUE?!"

Flinching at her mother's loud voice Brulee looked down and nodded.

"Oh my.."

"Fucking hell..."

"How... how did we not know?"

"Wow she had you all fooled." Nebula laughed.

"I'm sorry, she didn't want anyone to know, she didn't want to be treated differently." Brulee said before her eyes fell to her big brother. "Big brother please I wanted to tell you, all of you, but she begged me not to...I'm sorry."

It felt like he had been punched in the gut, his mind was running so fast, thinking back to all the signs. The sound of more laughter made his eyes snap down to the woman in his hold.

"A little omega out there all on her own... I wonder what would happen if someone let it slip that there was an unclaimed omega that had just set sail from Toto Land Island?... I do hope no one finds her, I hear her kind sell for a high price..."

Squeezing harder he heard her let out a choking sound and growled. "Mother." he grit out through his sharp teeth.

"Go ahead."

Looking into her eyes he continued adding pressure slowly, watching her eyes show fear and then panic before he heard a crack, her neck snapping in his grip. Dropping her lifeless body to the floor he started walking towards the door.

"Wait? Katakuri where are you going?" Oven asked.

"To go get my bride, my real one." he growled.