#and you have to be able to step away for a bit when you need to because there's never going to be an Ultimate End

[girl-lostconnection]

A little addition to this. Shout out to @sundaescreamcheese because they’ve guessed right.

Warnings: Banished knight!Ghost x Witch!Reader x Bloodhound knight Soap, Elden Ring AU, Johnny is a bit of a dog, possessive behaviour, suggestive themes, smut at the end, biting

“Hail, witch”, gruff low voice would have startled you if your wards didn’t tense the moment he stepped onto your territory.

You don’t know what he’s doing here, this deep in the woods, this far from his usual duties and this far from Stormveil Castle.

But you aren’t going to be rude to the man in full armour, with a sword taller than you.

If whatever he seeks can be found without much hassle and he could get off your territory that would be great.

“Hail, knight”, you muse back, careful distance from him. Your wards won’t let him step much closer to the cottage, not unless you specifically grant him entrance and for now…for now you aren’t sure you should.

The man looks at you — someone’s skull now adoring the front of his helmet, his horse a menacing thing that huffs out cold air in agitation. Yeah, it’s no easy journey to get here.

That’s why you live here.

The man in front of you is tall and absolutely huge, more monster than a knight. Makes you wonder what happened for someone like him to become Banished.

What brought him to your doorstep.

You sigh, a little grateful that Johnny is too busy fussing over chickens in the backyard because gods know he can’t stand strangers. Even more than you so.

“You seek refuge or favour?”, you tilt your head to the side, eager to get rid of him faster. Johnny may not be able to run like he did before but he’s still one very good Bloodhound. You don’t have much time until he will stalk outside to see what’s going on in front of your house.

(The previous visitor that had a gall to grab your hand before leaving was hunted down by Johnny. Hunted down and brought back, the hand that gripped you resting on the first step of your porch)

Banished knight looks at you for a few very long moments but if sensing your agitation, gets off his horse — landing on his feet with grace, that sends shivers down your spine.

He’s not just big.

He’s in a very good control of his body and he’s very aware of his size.

He’s dangerous.

Your wards tense up, not letting him through when he steps forward and he freezes as if he forgot about them. Though who knows, maybe he did forget.

Knights did have tendency to feel like they are owed entrance wherever they go, perhaps this one is no different.

“I need to find another knight. Bloodhound”, his voice is low, muffled by the helmet he doesn’t take off — dark eyes boring into you, staring you down from the high of his height.

Your brows furrow at the strange request, heart thumping faster. There’s only one knight who has been around these parts of the woods.

And he’s no longer Bloodhound. You are not giving him back. You are not going to let anyone take him away and rip him off everything you and time out here have been slowly restoring.

“I can’t help you”, you voice sharp, unusually so and Banished knight tilts his whole body forward as if trying to press himself through the wards, his fingers curling and uncurling — leather of his glove creaking.

“I don’t need much, witch. Just tell me where he went. And I will leave”, Banished presses further, shoulders tense and voice curling around your throat like a grip.

He takes a breathe before stepping back, raising his hands in half-hearted placating gesture.

“I mean no harm. I can pay if you need. Just tell me if you saw him”, he sounds almost gentle, head tilting down so he can look in your eyes without you having to crane your neck at him. “I’m…a friend”, he adds reluctantly, like he needs to physically tear the words out of himself.

Your brows furrow further and coincidentally Johnny couldn’t find a moment to show up better than now, sound of his walking uneven — still a limp to his step.

He rolls out of the house, picture of faux nonchalance, despite the sharp edge to his eyes.

“Hen, you alright? I heard-“, words die on his tongue when he sees the Banished knight, eyes widening. There is a strange kind of hunger in his gaze.

You don’t like it.

Because Banished knight sees Johnny and almost lunges himself in his direction, the only thing stopping him are the tethers of your wards, curling around his throat, forcing him back, forcing him out.

Air smells like ozone, air cracks with pressure, your fingers quickly warming up with a spell because you were right.

This man is dangerous. He saw Johnny.

You can’t let him leave now. He will need to disappear.

But Johnny grips your shoulders and shakes his head, eyes mad and desperate, an anguish to his face that you don’t quite understand.

“Nae, hen. It’s Simon. Don’t”, he breathes out, fingers digging into your skin, eyes boring into yours.

You glance back at Banished knight and he’s sitting on his knees now, tethers forcing him down, still tightly wrapped around his throat.

He’s dangerous. You don’t know him.

But Johnny’s nose presses to your cheek, breathing shuddering and he doesn’t let go of you. He doesn’t pull away until you give him a slow tentative nod.

Your fingers flick, soft popping of tethers letting go audible in the air and Johnny actually lunges himself at the Banished knight, sending them both tumbling in the snow.

Knight holds onto him with such hunger something in you churns uncomfortably. What if he will take Johnny away?

Your fingers warm up with the subconscious desire to push the strange man (Simon, his name is Simon) out. Out of your territory, out of your woods, out of your life.

But Johnny looks genuinely happy to see him so you let it go, just sitting yourself down nearby. You’ll be damned if he gets injured just because you looked away for a second.

But Simon grips Johnny like he’s the lifeline and answer to his prayers. Simon’s palms slide all over Johnny’s body, stroking sides, checking for wounds or tethers (your lips practically curl in snarl when you notice. Who the fuck does he think you are?).

He pauses at Johnny’s bad knee, touch getting more careful, eyes expectant and suddenly on you.

“Old injury”, you tell him for some reason. Not like you actually have to. You don’t owe this man anything, he’s unwelcome guest in your home. “I did what I could. If I found him later, he’d probably be without leg by now. Infection practically ate him alive”

Banished knight holds your eyes for a very long moment and then melts back into Johnny, murmuring something under his breath — too far for you to hear.

Doesn’t matter. The man isn’t staying in your home. He’s dangerous.

You tell that yourself and finally go back into the house to put kettle on. It’s too cold to stay mad out in the open. He’s not staying here anyway, so there’s no need to get too riled up.

He’s not staying but Johnny still shifts his weight from one leg to another in the doorway, Simon looming over his shoulder. They both look like a pair of big, wet from snow dogs.

You look at Johnny unimpressed but he tilts his head to the side, grown out strands of hair falling over his forehead. It should be illegal to be that bloody handsome.

You sigh and gesture for them to get in.

Okay, tea never harmed anyone. You’ll let this man warm up and he’ll be on his way before the sundown.

With or without Johnny.

The thought makes bile rise in your throat but you force it down focusing on the task at hand.

You can’t keep him if he’d want to go and you won’t humiliate yourself with begging him to stay.

But Johnny, so attuned to your moods by now, so used to having you chat for both of you steps closer — hands wrapping around your waist, part of his weight leaning on you to give a break his healthy leg.

“Yer not happy”, he notes, nose pressing to your ear, huffing out air and you can’t help but relax, letting him lean on you. He’s warm, heat rolling off him in waves, seeping through the sweater you made for him. Your head tilts back on his shoulder and he presses a kiss to your neck.

“He’s dangerous”, you muse quietly and ignore the chuckle Simon lets out. Banished knight is now sitting in front of your fireplace, cloak taken off and hanged on the chair to dry out.

Johnny just nods, calloused fingers rubbing idle circles on your solar plexus. It’s a long moment before he speaks again.

“I’m dangerous”, it’s said almost causally, his breath ghosting over your neck and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

“It’s different”, you snap back immediately.

Simon huffs behind your back and if Johnny wasn’t leaning on you, you’d have probably thrown something in the man. He’s not going to laugh at you in your own bloody house.

“Simon’s not bad, hen”, Johnny breathes out, tone softer, teeth grazing over sweet spot behind your ear, heat dripping down to your abdomen. Bastard. He knows what he’s doing.

“And Simon is not staying here”, you grumble, pouring herbal blend in three mugs, suppressing the urge to shiver when Johnny bites your neck.

“Hen”, he starts and you already know where it leads, you head shaking quickly.

“No”, you cut him off and nudge him with a shoulder to step back so you can move. “Move, I need to give this Banished his bloody tea”

Johnny grumbles but peels himself off you, less than happy to lose the comfort and warmth your body provides. Less than happy to let you slip out of his grasp.

“He can stay in the barn”, Johnny offers and just grins when you send him a glare. His teeth itch to sink into the nape of your neck, press you into the bed, lick the fight and agitation out of you, make you soft and pliant.

“I said no”

“Hen”

“He’s dangerous”

“Hen, have mercy”

Simon watches the way you two bicker, enjoying that none of you even noticed he took the helmet off to drink the tea you placed on the table with more force than necessary, some of it trickling down the rims of the mug.

Simon huffs out a dry chuckle when Johnny tries to pull you back into his hands and you sidestep, smacking his hands away. Leaving Bloodhound almost pouting.

“Cruel”, he complains to Simon, hands crossing over his chest. But despite everything…Johnny looks good. Better than Simon remembers him.

He’s wider now, there is bulk to him that Bloodhound Knight Johnny didn’t have. His eyes are brighter.

He is talking.

Simon didn’t even know Johnny could fucking talk, thought all Bloodhounds are mute. Courtesy of the profession.

“I understand you want to sleep with your Banished in the barn today?”, the witch arches their brow at Johnny and groans when his eyes light up.

Like a bloody dog catching the whiff of blood on the hunt. Old habits die hard, evidently.

“You can stay”, Johnny announces to Simon like it’s his personal victory, like he brought his master a good game after the hunt and is waiting to get his ear scratched.

His grin so wide it’s a miracle his face doesn’t crack. Witch rolls their eyes but Simon sees the way their lips twitch.

Seems not only he has a soft spot for Johnny.

Maybe it should’ve made him feel uneasy but if anything he feels satisfied, like something finally clicked in place. Puzzle finally unlocking in his hands, showing him the reward.

Simon tilts his head to the side, scar crossing his lips stretching when he smiles down at you.

Yeah, he’s staying.

A day turns into a couple days and then into two whole weeks because of the blizzard, Simon pushing further and further.

Eyes heavy and dark when he’d catch a glimpse of your throat or Johnny’s bites — purple bruises on your neck, soft creaking of the bed upstairs whenever it happened.

Simon doesn’t tell you that he moved from barn to the cot in the kitchen and you pretend that you don’t know he’s been sleeping there for the last week.

Simon pretends in return that he doesn’t strain his ears, catching the smallest sounds Johnny tears out of you. That he doesn’t lean on the cold wall of the kitchen, thighs spread wide, his eyes closed. That his hand doesn’t find its way to touch himself, stroking at almost lazy pace.

After all, Johnny is not starving Simon of little love here and there, eyes electric blue, mouth slick on the inner side of Simon’s thighs — your taste still on his lips.

Simon worms himself into your life and starts moving bloody furniture so he can position himself more comfortably, clicking his tongue when you hiss at him — tilting his head at you the same way a heavyweight horse would at the farm’s cat.

His fingers catch your jaw when you grumble that he rearranges your kitchen again, his lips pressing to yours.

You take a step back just to feel Johnny’s warm chest pressing into you, breathing heavier than usually, hands wrapping around you.

Simon angles your face so he can slip his tongue in your mouth, groaning appreciatively when you let him in. When you tilt your head up, allowing his fingers to curl over your neck.

Here we go. Finally.

Simon licks your lower lip, finally pulling away and reaches for Johnny just to give him a kiss just as wet, now grinning like a well-fed creature. Satisfaction dripping out his every pore.

Johnny nuzzles into your hair, breathing out a low “think Simon can sleep with us now, hen?” and you just nod. Your legs jelly that don’t hold you properly, head stuffed with cotton, skin tingling from the heat of their stares.

That’s…an unexpected turn. You were ready for Simon to leave. You were ready for Johnny to leave with him.

But this…this is a surprise.

Simon presses a short kiss to your forehead and walks away to feed the livestock. There’s a new spring to his step, as if something just depressurised his spine, letting him grow a few inches up.

The issue arises only when it’s time to actually sleep because Johnny is insatiable and he refuses to move anywhere from between your thighs, not reacting to anything.

Especially not to Simon walking in.

You feel hot, Johnny’s tongue sending white hot sparkles down your spine, your eyes meeting Simon’s whose pupils blow wide and god, he’s more monster than a knight.

He’s the solide presence when he crawl in bed to pull you into his lap, big palms holding you open for Johnny, fingers sinking in the meat of your thighs.

“Eager today, aren’t we, sweet’eart?”, Simon sucks his own mark in your skin, teeth grazing your throat, his grip on your thighs getting stronger when you make the prettiest needy sound.

Music for his ears.

“It’s okay. Gonna take good care of ya. Gonna take care of both of you”, he practically purrs, sliding his fingers down your body to find the fluttering hole, dipping in it just to marvel at your body swallowing his first knuckle.

Johnny whines, his tongue circling lower, curling around Simon’s fingers, making you choke on your own breathing because too much-too hot-too wet.

Simon presses a kiss to your jaw, grin wicked and dark, stubble on his cheek scratching your skin.

“Be good, luv”, he murmurs, eyes heavy and hungry when Johnny sucks his fingers in, practically gagging on thick digits. “Open up for us”

Johnny bites on the fingers in his mouth before pulling away, dropping back down between your legs, sinking his teeth in the meat of your thigh.

Marking.

Simon smiles wider and adds a second finger, pushing in deeper, cooing in your neck when your hips buckle.

There’s no rush, love. They aren’t going anywhere.

After all, you already let them in. They might as well make themselves at home.

Johnny‘s tongue traces the bite mark on your thigh, his eyes fixed on another one he left on Simon’s knuckles that are currently sinking inside of you. Wet squelching sound sending a heatwave through Johnny’s whole body.

So welcoming to them. So sweet, hen. It would be their pleasure.

[racke7]

Hmm. Tweaking the setting a little bit.

Danny might've "defeated" Pariah Dark, but (despite popular fanon) calling it "in single-combat" of any sort would be a massive overstatement.

(He was piloting a mecha-suit his parents made, and fighting alongside a lot of other ghosts, including Vlad.)

As such, Pariah Dark is unquestionably still the Ghost King. However, due to some misunderstandings from the side of the Justice League, they end up assuming that Danny did win in single-combat (which would make him the new Ghost King).

Pariah Dark hears about this right as he's about to go for a proper rematch with Danny, and decides (through the deranged logic of an unaging tyrannical ruler) that this is kind of funny.

Obviously Danny can't actually win against him in a duel, because obviously he hasn't miraculously gained any incredible powers since last time when he needed lots of outside help in order to win (he has, and he maybe could).

So, for the sake of making a mockery of the JL who dared to presume that he's lost his crown to the little ghost-brat? He's now the ghost-brat's dad.

He allowed his son to "defeat" him with all of his friends, because it was good enrichment for the kid, and he didn't want Danny's relationship with him to scare away those friends (because they're justifiably terrified of him). Letting him "win" basically means that they don't have to be scared of him (because Danny will protect his friends, and he has the power to win).

Danny agrees to faking this relationship on behalf of:

He won't have to fight Pariah Dark again (he nearly died the first time).

Amity Park doesn't get sucked into the Infinite Realms again (not a fun time).

Pariah Dark promises to keep his "eternal and endless conquest of all realms" on hold (very important).

Trolling (but not hurting) the Justice League (who Danny has complicated feelings about).

The look on Vlad's face would be fucking priceless.

Pariah Dark is a competitive bastard, so he obviously tries to be a "good parent" purely as a fuck you to anyone else who might be wanting to step up.

Danny isn't really sure how to feel about Pariah Dark deciding to be a parent with such gusto, but he's learned to roll with most things in his life (growing up in the Fenton-household doesn't allow for inflexibility because everyone there is some level of insane).

Danny's rogues are obviously more than a little bit creeped out by Pariah Dark buddying up with their fight-buddy, but once they start to realize that this is less about parenting Danny and more about scaring the shit out of some annoying mortals? They kind of shrug and roll with it too (being a dick to mortals is why most of them went through the Portal in the first place, it's great fun).

Of course, then Pariah Dark starts to actually get good at being a parent, and Danny starts being actually able to turn to him for parental advice. Which freaks out both of them, but at this point they're committed to the bit and can't just stop being parent-and-child (they have a PTA-meeting coming up next week).

(Clockwork is cackling to himself in his tower. It's unclear if he's laughing because he knew that this would happen, or because this completely blind-sided him and he's having a fucking blast with it.)

The Justice League have a lot of complicated feelings about all of this, because Pariah Dark is obviously evil (historically), and Danny doesn't have a fantastic reputation (Amity Park will praise him and spit on him in equal parts, and a government-organization is claiming that "all ghosts are evil") despite how he seems to be trying to do hero-things.

This is likely to make him slot into a similar position as Raven in their eyes. He can't be trusted (because of his relationship with Pariah Dark, and because of his nature as a ghost), but outright condemning him as evil seems... unwise (because Pariah Dark is at least biding his time, pretending at this, instead of actively trying to conquer them with his undead armies).

(And if Raven only arrives at the JL to ask for help after this whole shebang gets started? I'm guessing that Danny can pretty easily make a deal with Pariah Dark to go stomp on Triton together.)

Since I noticed a couple Ghost Prince Danny things I decided to make my own, even if I don't know much about the series.

Vlad being the ever stupid fruitloop he is decided to try and steal Pariah's things again and woke him up again. Wanting a rematch he immediately stormed back to Amity Park, but before he dragged it back into the Infinite Realms for round 2 he overheard Danny talking to his friends about how he got summoned by the Justice League and through some hilarious misunderstandings on their part now think that Phantom is Pariah Dark's son and in turn the Ghost Prince.

Pariah, who surprisingly is ALSO a little shit at times (and is pretty much being called a little baby ghost's dad), immediately jumps at the idea of actually doing this hilarious prank and steals the group for sometime and manage to strike a deal that as long as he doesn't do anything horrible he won't be stuffed back into his coffin and they can do the bit. This ends up leading to Pariah Dark acting like Phantom's less than good of a person dad who actually starts to reform because he's too committed to the bit. This ends up leading to him, and everyone else, discovering he has surprisingly good parental instincts, having caused everyone to stop and look at him in confusion the first few (hundred) times he instinctively did a good parent thing.

Eventually though, something happens where Danny needs help but can't go to his friends or family, he can't go to the JL for help since he doesn't trust them and he's made it instinct to never go to Vlad, so he goes to the one ghost he does trust with this, Pariah Dark. It's at this point that Pariah realizes that it's no longer a bit and that he's become the closest thing Danny has to an actual parent, because let's be honest here, even if Jack and Maddie are good here they're still severely neglective of Danny and there's only so much Jazz can do while being 2-3 years older than him, and all the other ghosts who help him are more like mentors than actual parental figures.

Usually a ghost would have their parents to teach them if they're there as well, but Danny doesn't have good human parents and he died before they did, pretty much leaving him an orphaned baby, and no Justice League, JL Dark, or GIW will stop Pariah Dark from being the parent Danny desperately needs.

[cupidkenji]

Gnaw

Now Playing: Gnaw - Alex G everything I knew was looking just as it should Pairing: Nam gyu (player 124) x AFAB!reader CW: smut, oral (r receiving), choking but not in a freaky way he literally chokes reader to get them unconscious (no somno), kidnapping kind of (he takes them back to their house), knifeplay 💀, restraints being used (reader's wrists are tied), noncon technically but again mentally reader is into it, toxic ex bf, he's really whipped tho, minor bloodplay, undertones of sadism, lokey father figure vibes from Nam gyu (i'm so sorry), probably kind of OOC, university AU Summary: After that night, you ran. You should know by now you can never get far from him. Disclaimer: Reader is always thought of to be chubby/bigger when writing but I do my best to not physically describe reader at all with stuff like skin tone or body type. Anyone can read this as reader is not depicted but if there's a slip up please let me know. <3 WC: 3.7k (again) this is a part 2! read part 1 here.

the worms are eating away at my brain i am going crazy. please for this story just imagine you have one of those bed frames that are individual bars w space in between them instead of like one solid thing. also i really need to start writing these earlier in the day so i have the energy to proof read them. i'm sorry for my sins have mercy on me.

The sunlight seared through a pair of shitty motel curtains, attempting to penetrate your shut eyelids. It was the sixth day you were waking up in a scratchy bed on the run down side of your already dirty town. It was the sixth day you would spend missing him. 

You knew it was wrong, immoral to even think of returning to the man who had done such a thing. Who was clearly at a place in his life where he could do such a thing. Even through all the intellectualizing of his actions, the pleading you did with yourself to be disgusted, you weren’t. You knew it the second he cleaned you up and went to sleep, and it was terrifying, so you ran. As soon as you were sober, you ran to the only sanctuary you could afford as a college student who was also renting an apartment and a vehicle. You had already overstayed your welcome, knowing that the six days would cost you more than you wanted to shell out. You didn’t know how long you planned to be gone, originally fleeing the scene to be able to think. It was only proving more difficult as the days ticked on. You’d come all the way out here to talk yourself into hating him, only to carve out an even bigger space within yourself that he was to occupy. You missed him. The more you thought about it, the more apparent it became, and that just pushed you to stay longer. To wait out the bruising feeling eating at you the more you forced yourself away. 

You skipped class, not daring to step foot on campus lest he be waiting for her. The thought made your head fizz, a horrified and excited feeling mingling as they wrapped around the nerves in your stomach. Just the possibility of seeing him overwhelmed you, but you were simultaneously sick from the distance. You were sick of your surroundings, too. The walls were gray and stained, and you feared the hygiene status of the bed you were sleeping in. You hadn’t had much time to pack when you’d left, grabbing miscellaneous clothing that had yet to be put away and shoving it in a backpack. You hadn’t brought a blanket or a pillow, something you regretted. The suffocating nature of the beige room prompted the nightly walks you’d been taking. It was a bearable temperature, and the full perimeter of the building provided a decent amount of ground to cover. You hadn’t grabbed a charger, leaving your phone dead and you bored. Without any artificial stimulation to occupy your head, you took notice of the normally unnoticeable aspects of such a place. There were bits of a wired fence on the right side of the parking lot, the few lamps that lit the outside up had security cameras on them that didn’t work. You couldn't sleep one night, so you’d gone to look at them, finding that when the cords reached the end of the pole, they’d been haphazardly cut. It looked rushed and frayed, like a child had done it with safety scissors. It was deceiving, truly. There was no safety in an already dim parking lot. 

On tonight’s walk, you mulled over the date you’d return by. You still needed to graduate, and realistically, you couldn’t avoid your life forever. You were getting progressively more tired, sleeping less each night you stayed, missing the comfort of your own bed. The ground was uneven and cracked under your shoes, reminding you of the gray, crumbling building you were supposed to retrieve your roommate from. Reminding you of him, how stupid all of this was. There was a familiar smell in the air as you rounded a corner, nearly back to your room. It was distinct, heady and musky, as if you were back on that street and looking up at the flowing smoke again. You did your usual observation of the desolate asphalt full of empty parking spots.

And what the fuck were the odds?

He was already looking at you, the end of his cigarette glowing orange as he took a drag, like a sniper taking aim. He was a mere silhouette being poorly lit up by a streetlight that barely worked, but you knew. It was this feeling of magnetism, the same way he knew exactly who he was looking at, you felt the world around you melt, the air around you became irrelevant as your eyes locked on him. There was another man there, leaning against the hood of his car with Nam gyu right next to him, taking no notice of you as he spoke. You couldn’t make out his words with how far away you were. The man you’d been avoiding making little sounds of acknowledgement while being completely trained on you, posture relaxed and comfortable. He found you.

His friend nudged him, mumbling something and standing up. The both of them walked back into what was presumably the man’s room after snuffing out what they were smoking. You didn’t even register your legs beelining for your room. You threw whatever you had into the backpack you’d brought. You needed to get the fuck out of here. It was an unfathomable cruel move from whatever higher power was in charge of this situation. The two of you were being forced together like sand and water. He was everywhere, no matter where you were he would inevitably catch up. Maybe it took him three months the first time, but clearly he was done waiting. You rushed the check out process, not knowing how long his friend would keep him occupied now that he knew you were here. Maybe he wouldn’t even care. The thought made your stomach twist, but still, you needed to go. Your car seemed like an endless walk from the front doors, parked in the corner closest to your room, dark and unsuspecting. In such an empty place, you didn’t want your car to sit illuminated, as if advertised. This motel had a reputation, and you wanted to keep your means of travel safe. 

Your hands shook slightly as you hit the unlock button on your keys, yanking the handle to the backseat and throwing your bag somewhere in the back. It was just clothes, you didn’t care if it rolled around or hit the floor during the commute to wherever you were going, you just cared about getting out. The slam of the back door shutting seemed louder than what was appropriate for such a bone-deep silence for this time of night. Opening the driver’s side, you barely had enough room to squeeze through before it was being shoved closed from behind you. On impulse, you tried to turn around, startled and drowning in adrenaline; but before you could, the crook of his right arm encompassed your neck, tightening like a snake who was readying the prey for consumption. Your hands shot up, grasping his forearm with a futile grip, as if you could will his arm away from you. The pressure on your windpipe was bleeding black into the edges of your sight, static mingling with your hearing as your head got lighter. You could hear quiet shushes and reassurances coming from the man behind you, as though talking a child back into sleep after a nightmare. You dug your nails into the fabric of his sweatshirt as a weak sob barreled out of your mouth. He only pushed a little harder, pulling you into him. The proximity comforted you despite his actions, and you used the last little bit of energy you had to condemn yourself, body going limp against him after the last internal inquiry of what the fuck was wrong with you. He had also noticed the camera situation, knowing that his actions would go undocumented in the empty little place. He walked you over the passenger seat, hauling you in and buckling you up like a kid in a car seat. He started the route to your house, it was a Friday, your roommate would surely be out. He knew she was barely ever at the house, after staying there on and off for two years, he thinks he could probably count how many times he saw her sleep there on one hand. It wasn’t a long drive, twenty minutes or so, and you’d be home.

–

The normally disarming lamplight of your bedroom reeled in your consciousness from the void it had been thrown to. It didn’t feel particularly calming - not now. Your head was on your pillow, a focused Nam gyu diligently knotting a rope around your wrists, bundling them together and lacing the restraint through your headboard. Your neck felt bruised, sore and pulsing with a light pain as the blood rushed to your head. Your legs tensed on instinct, noticing the motion was not detained. He hadn’t tied your legs. You tugged once at the rope, testing the endurance just as much as you were testing your own strength. Your muscles felt nearly atrophied, the action making an ache ricochet through the oxygen-depleted muscles. Your whole body felt tired, heavy. Your exhale was shaky, slowly deflating from your lungs as if your body was made of stone. 

“Oh, good.” He double checked the knot, tugging once to solidify it’s hold on you before standing up to look down on you. “I didn’t know how long you’d be out.” He sounded so casual, as if instead of choking you unconscious and dragging you home, he’d simply carried you in from the car after you’d fallen asleep in it. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Your voice was quiet and gravelly, like your throat was coated in sand. Your lip trembled at the feeling of being so close to him. God, you were like a fucking puppy; can’t even be away from him for a week without turning into a weird sentimental puddle upon seeing him again. “Please untie me.” Your eyes watered as you spoke. You’d barely been awake five minutes and you were on the brink of tears. Pathetic. 

His eyes flicked over your face at the sight of your eyes welling up, a little glint of something familiar sparking in them for just a moment. “I can’t.” He shrugged, imitating disappointment at the notion. “You keep running from me. How are we supposed to resolve this if you can’t even keep still?”

Resolve this. Your eyes closed at the words, attempting to stop the tears from spilling at the thought. You’d left him for a reason. It was repeated over and over in your head like a mantra. You had to stick to it even if you couldn’t remember what the desire to be away from him felt like. Even as your chest heaved slightly with panic, you hoped he wouldn’t move. You hoped he would keep talking just so you could hear his voice, be near him. It wasn’t a rational wish by any means, but you could feel the intensity of it in your fucking bones with how consuming it was. 

“I’m not a patient man, honey. I waited for so fucking long.” He leaned over your dormant frame, putting one knee on the bed and moving his other to mirror the motion, effectively pinning your hips down under his weight. “You know, it wasn’t even your roommate who wanted you there. She just left her phone unlocked, and I knew you’d show up if she asked.”

“What-” Your words halted in your throat as he drew a pocket knife from the pocket of his sweatshirt. Jesus.  “Please - you don’t understand-” 

“Relax.” The word was chuckled slightly as he cut you off, like the panic that shot through your eyes at the sight of the blade in his hands was unjustified, like you were being irrational. “I think I was too selfish that night, hm?” The look he was giving you felt like it could kill you if he really wanted it to. Intense and suffocating, full of excitement and devotion. “You clearly hadn’t been touched in months and I got ahead of myself.” He shook his head slightly as his eyes looked over you, your chest was moving quick and shallow as you breathed, stomach tensing as he lifted your shirt up just an inch, caressing the skin above the waistband with his thumb. It barely even seemed intentional, as if his hands subconsciously drew themselves to you, needed to be touching you. 

Any urge you had to respond kept dying before it could be expelled. What do you even say to a situation like this? He was so at ease, explaining himself like a truly remorseful lover would. To anyone who didn’t know his inflection, that’s where it would end;  but you were so in tune with him, you could hear the edge of entertainment that his words carried. Maybe he was sorry, maybe he just liked seeing you unsure.

“I’m gonna make it up to you.” Your breath stumbled as he said it, your wrists grating unconsciously against the confines. “But it hurt my feelings when you ran like that.” He put a hand to his heart as he spoke, emphasizing his words. “So I’m gonna hurt you a little, too.” You felt the point of the blade make contact with the skin that his thumb had been smoothing over minutes before. It was enough to make the first tear fall from the corner of your eye. There was no pressure, just the threat of his words ringing true. Even in this scenario out of most peoples’ nightmares, you still didn’t think he’d truly hurt you, not irreparably. He’d always had sadistic tendencies, you even sometimes - shamefully - thought about the potential that was undoubtedly lurking beneath the surface of his presentability. He could get mean sometimes, especially when he was high, but never like this. He was sober, you could see it in his eyes and the way he moved. He just wanted to do this, wanted to be in control. 

He could practically feel the mesh of emotion seeping from your veins, taking longer than necessary to talk just to watch you soak in it. “Just enough to teach you some manners, honey.” His thumb trailed a line of pure heat along your jaw. “Don’t worry. You’ll probably even like it, knowing you.” 

A weird feeling jolted through the active nerves in your stomach. It was such a direct callout, based in certainty that he carried in his voice. You felt caught, recalling all the times he most likely knew exactly what you were thinking. Another tear streamed down the side of your face. 

The steel in his hand glistened in the low light of your bedroom, the sharpness of it being dragged down the fabric of your shirt, severing the only semblance of modesty you had left; the material draping open and bearing your skin to him. You’d been practically ready for bed by the time you took your walk, foregoing any additional coverage underneath the shirt, leaving all of you vulnerable to the exploration of his eyes. He pushed the sagging cloth to hang more off your shoulders, grazing his hands over the naked parts of you. It was gentle, restrained, like he couldn’t bear the time it would take to touch all of you because he needed it that badly. 

You felt the sting of an opening wound a second later, a whimper barely fleeing your throat. It wasn’t deep, he didn’t push hard. His lips parted as the blood rose to the surface of the small cut, pooling within it and releasing a single drop to pour down the side of your stomach. Before it could gain traction, he smeared the runny crimson, letting the liquid coat the print of his thumb. His pupils dilated at the sight, his breath coming out shakier than he’d like as his blood seemed to thrum in his veins. 

Your face twisted at the feeling, molten lava pooling in your stomach and burning you from the inside out. You felt hot, immune responses and arousal both running rampant in your body. You’d never felt more awake. He lowered his head to your exposed collarbone, brutally reminiscent of the night that predated this one. “See? Not so bad.” He led his hand up to your mouth, palm skimming your side as he hovered his thumb above your sealed lips, muttering out a request to open your mouth for me and you did because he was inexplicably intoxicating. Your tongue was coated in bitter metal combining with the discreet and slight flavor of his skin. You felt dizzy. 

He mouthed down the expanse of your upper body, leaving patches of your skin shiny with his saliva and stinging from the occasional love bite he would leave. He marked his places of affection with small cuts, each one sending a wave of warmth lower and lower, fanning the flames down to where he would ultimately end up. He would kiss over each future scar he left on you, a bloody comparison to your relationship as a whole, his actions making your heart ache and your back arch. You had been trying your hardest to stay quiet, trembling exhales being the only thing you couldn’t suppress; but he had a way of wearing you down in the most pleasurable ways imaginable, gradually building you up to the whimpers that were slipping past your crumbling resolve. 

With caring hands, he pulled at the waistband of your pants, folding them out from under your hips and bending each of your legs forward to get them fully off of your legs, laying them back down once he had. The room felt colder than it ever had. He stared with pride at the state of your perpetually clenched thighs, groping at the tense muscles. “What’d I tell you, huh?” He tucked the blade of the knife under the seam of your underwear, pulling up and slicing clean through them. “I don’t know why you want out when you like it so much.” Cutting the other seam, he let the fabric slide off of you, discarding the shreds of useless hindrance and taking in the full sight of you. 

You didn’t know why you ran either. You did like it. You liked it so fucking much that it scared you. Maybe it was a fear of feeling good, or a fear of what this kind of connection would inevitably do to you, what kind of a man he was. You’d tried to leave him and ended up panting, wet skin glistening and covered in gashes; and the worst part was you liked it. How the fuck could you like something like this?

He left various other claims of territory on your thighs. Teeth marks, nicks from the knife, worshipping kisses of a man in love. Everything action committed against your wanting flesh had so much emotion laced in it that you could barely take it. You were overwhelmed, your brain half shut down, only stopping itself from going dark because then you wouldn’t be able to feel him, to accept what he was giving you. 

He pushed your thighs out of their locked state, soothing over the irritation littered on them with his thumbs and his lips, dulling the sting with an even greater ache that was bleeding directly into the center of you. You felt like he’d lit you on fire. 

The tip of his index finger scorched a line up the place you’d been anticipating, shamelessly gliding in copious arousal that had been pooling since you saw him leaning on the hood of that car. It was a touch that seemed to pump life back into you, invigorating and familiar. Something you missed so much that you were sure you’d never be able to fathom the depth of it. He cursed, quiet and breathy; and you groaned at the feeling of friction, even if it was just a little. 

His mouth on you was sudden, but not rushed; the spontaneity of it forcing a gasp from you. His actions were calculated, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you open, malleable and pinned. His hands were tense on your legs, fingers digging in tight as if he was struggling with his own internal grievances. You weren’t sure if it was restraint, or desperation, or something uncharted between the two of you. It was scary to think that something could be undefined right now, that maybe he was lost too. 

The warmth of his mouth on you after already having your body thoroughly overworked nearly knocked you unconscious for the second time that night. Your head was as thrown back as it could be given the state of your arms, chest reaching for the ceiling. Your poor wrists burned in the grit of the rope, but it only seemed to add to the peak you were being pushed to. He brought his index finger to sweep through the bountiful wetness in between your legs, this time pushing in and curling up, his second finger joining soon after. 

“Gyu - please -” The nickname was so domestic, something that hadn’t left your lips in months but seemed to feel as natural as breathing in this moment. The loving tone hit him like a wave, drawing a reflexive groan from his mouth. His eyes were practically black from how much his pupils encompassed the iris, his own eyes looking a little watery as a less extreme mimic of yours.

“Missed the way you taste.” The auditory affirmation paired with his fingers and his mouth sent you toppling. His fingers never let up, his mouth detaching to plant light kisses on the bone of your hip, looking up at your breathtaking form with an awestruck gaze that you couldn’t see through your closed eyes and tilted back head. 

You panted, thinking it was over. Maybe he’d fuck you, or maybe he would make you tea and the two of you would finally talk about things. He just moved his soaking fingers up to your clit, your body jumping slightly at the sensitivity. 

“Wait-” 

“Shh, just take it.” He spoke low and moved back to where he was, starting again when you had barely started coming down. His declaration of making it up to you rung in your ears. How long was long enough to be considered even? You writhed with overstimulation as you thought about it. Ten minutes? Thirty minutes? An hour? Your second orgasm hit you hard in the middle of your useless inquiries, and you realize it didn’t really matter.

You were in for a long fucking night regardless.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃❮𓁿❯𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

tags: @mitsxuri @citarnosis @namgyunation (tagging you lovely folks because you all mentioned wanting more content. please let me know if you want your @ removed and i will do it ASAP <3)

[littlxpxtal]

The Beach

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 3k

If I told you that I loved you

Tell me, what would you say?

If I told you that I hated you

Would you go away?

Now I need your help with everything that I do

I don't want to lie, I've been relying on you

Fallin' again

I need a pick-me-up

I've been callin' you "friend,"

I might need to give it up

April

Fuck you

I hover my thumb over the send button for a long breath. When I exhale, I press send, click my phone off and toss it onto my bed. It lands face down.

I walk over to my bathroom, shutting the door behind me and striping down.

The pogues went back to the cut, sending JJ off into the swamp lands with a backpack full of food and camping gear. We are hoping in the next few days we can figure something out to make sure he can come back home safely.

While I shower, I think of all the new information I learned about the mission, and how getting the rest of the gold out was the next goal, but they would have to do it very strategically.

My mind wanders to rafe for a second, and I wonder if he’s back from his trip. Then I remember I hate him, and don’t want to hear back from him. I think about how after my shower, i'm going to block him. I should’ve done that after sending the message anyways.

I’m not entirely sure why it took me so long to send it. I drafted that text the same night JJ and I talked about rafe. I think it just took me a bit of time to finally be able to let go, and let him know I refuse to be treated like this.

There was a small part of me that hoped he already blocked me, so he wouldn’t even see the message from me.

Tomorrow is the last day of spring break, and my family will be back on the outbreaks by nightfall. I think about how I’ll try my best to be asleep by the time they get back tomorrow so I can avoid any questions.

The pogues helped me clean everything, washed bed sheets and dishes, took out the trash and wiped everything down. There was no trace of life in the house, not even from me.

I make mental to do lists of what I still need to do before graduation, what i should wear to school this week, and what color to polish my nails. My mind wanders and runs a million miles a minute as I step out of the shower, ringing my hair into the towel, and plopping it on top of my head. I lotion my body and face up, then wrap myself in a robe.

When I walk out of my bathroom, a shriek spaces my lips.

Rafe is sitting on the edge of my bed, and he’s playing with one of the trinkets from my book shelf.

“What’re you-“ I hold on tightly to the doorknob, ready to run back into the bathroom if needed. I couldn’t read his expression at all.

“You shouldn’t leave the door that leads from the outside, directly into your bedroom, unlocked. Especially when you’re home alone.” He says coyly.

“I think we are privileged enough to know that we don’t really have to worry about those kinds of things here on figure 8, now do we?” I tilt my head, and take in his presence. He’s wearing a hoodie with the hood up. His eyes are on my body, wrapped up in a silk sobe.

“Why are you texting me all crazy like that for, hm?” His eyes finally flicker up to meet mine. They are cold and hard. I glance over to scan my room, find anything to pique my interest enough to not give into the urge to look back at him. My heartbeat raced and I felt my mouth get drier by the second.

“I had been wanting to say it for days, but I figured it would be best if I waited until you were done with your trip so I didnt bother you.’ he scoffs and stands up, taking a step towards me. I responded with a small step backwards, my breath hitching in my throat.

“You think some text behind a screen would’ve ruined my trip? You think saying “fuck you” to me, is something I would get worked up about?”

my lips trembles, my body is reacting in a way as if im getting scolded, or reprimanded for speaking back to an adult.

I don’t speak, my body freezes and he takes another step towards me, his head dipping down.

“You think I care about the fact that you helped hide maybank here at your house?” I hyelped, and my hands trembled. I looked down at the ground, and he’s finally close enough where I can smell his cologne.

He hooks his finger under my chin, and I flinch. My back is pressed against the doorframe, and he leans forward, pushing my chin up, and y eyes meet his,

“Cat got your tongue?” He coos, his eyes look manic, and there’s a slight tremor in his hand.

“I think you do care. And it would’ve ruined your trip.” I finally croak out, letting out the breath I had been holding.

“And I mean it. Fuck you rafe. Fuck you and the mind games you play with me. Your not even my boyfriend and you like to control everything, and if i'm not doing something you Like, you use move onto another one of your girls. Like im disposable, like i dont matter. And I know i Fucking matter to you.”

I dont really mean to say the last part, but it came out anyways. I was just being honest.

He doesn’t respond for a while so we stand in silence, and he stares down at me, his finger still holding under my chin.

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips. I dont object, but I dont open my mouth for more.

“You dont mean it” his whispers, his lips brushing against mine.

“Yes i do” I mumble, my brain getting light from the feeling he brought in my mind.

his other hands reach up and trailing down the valley of my chest against the robe. His fingers make it down to where the rob is tied, and he glances up with a smirk.

“Tell me, y/n, did you finally sleep with him? Did you get back at me?” He hot breath fans against my chest, and he lowers on his knees, slowly pulling open the tied pieces of my robe.

”What Don't you get about the fact that JJ and I don't do that. Never have and never will.” I try my best to pretend I am unaffected by the way his fingers trail up my inner thigh, right to the line of my robe, barely hanging open. His lips press right below my naval, and a whimper escapes my lips.

“It would’ve ruined my trip” he whispers, using his hands to open my legs, I press harder against the wall, the towel on my head finally dropping to the ground, I pull my wet hair to one side, looking down at rafe. His pupils are blown, his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting for my response.

“I know it would’ve” I say with a smirk.

”you give me a constant headache” he grumbles, pressing another kiss to the inside of my thigh.

”You Make this whole thing so hard. Would be easier if you just stopped overreacting” I retaliate, bending my knees slightly, opening up my thighs more. He grips my hips and Iicks a strip up my slit.

“Wheres the fun in that?” He says with a chuckle before diving in, suckling on my clit, his fingers burned deep into my hips. I moaned out in pleasure, my hands entangling themselves in his hair.

He hums with pleasure against my heat, and I find myself panting, my head hung low, bottom lip between my teeth.

“So did you fuck her again?” I ask, hissing as he sucks hard on my clit in response.

“Nah” he responds quickly, before his mouth attaches back to my folds, his tongue lapping up and down rhythmically.

I whimper a few times, and he looks up to my eye contact with me.

“You’re easy to piss off” he says against my pussy.

”sounds like you do it on purpose” I groan and bcuck my hips against his face. He releases his mouth, its covered in my slick, and his eyes are still blown out. His right hand trails down, and he runs two fingers between my folds, pushing into my hole, just teasing it slightly. I breath out heavily and he smirks.

“You’re fun to play with” he drawls out, his eyes focuses on the way his fingers are sliding into and out, deeper with each pump. My legs start to shake as he curls his fingers inside. Once they are fully inside , he quickens his pace, the silence in the room filled with the wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of me.

“‘M not a fucking toy” I grit out, pulling his hard harder, squeezing my eyes shut as I feel myself reaching my peak. He doesn’t respond, and instead brings his mouth back up to my clit, flicking it with his tongue, swirling around in circles, clockwise then counterclockwise.

“Fuckkkkk” I groan out, seeing white behind my closed lids. I cum all over rafes face. I dont get to ride it very long, before he’s dragging me over to the bed, and pushing my face down, ass up. He pulls the robe full off my body, and presses my face down into the pillows, I feel himself line his cock up with my entrance, and he pushes in.

”Rafe” I groan, holding out the sheets with all my might. I finish riding out my high as he pounds into me from behind, his hands gripped on both sides of my hips.

Profanities slip from his mouth, accompanied with a few whimpers of my name.

I gain enough strength to push my self up, so im in tabletop position, while he still pumps in and out of me. I turn my head and look back to see the hoods of his eyes are hanging low, his jaw is slack, his tongue peaking out the side, and drips of sweat are beading on his forehead. A whimper erupts from his mouth, and he grunts after, his eyes snapping open to meet mine, as if he sensed me looking at him.

“This what you wanted? Huh?” I bat my lashes innocently and bit my bottom lip.

”Wanted to piss me off so much I just had to come over and fuck you just to get you to shut the fuck up? Huh pretty girl?” My eyes roll back and my head hangs down. He’s tsks his tongue, leaning forward, one hand gripped tightly on my hips, the other gathers my hair in his fist, and he yanks me back, my shoulders pressing up against his chest. He cocks his fist down to the right, angling my head up and back to look up at him. His pace hasn’t faltered once, and the continuing sound of my pussy squelching against his throbbing cock is only getting louder, I can no longer contain my moans, and I squeeze my eyes shut as they spill out of my mouth. He takes this opportunity of my open my mouth to spit in it. My eyes shoot open, and we hold eye contact for a second before I swallow and he smiles.

“All you have to do is ask nicely you know?” His grip on my hair still tight, and his dick is ramming into my harder than before.

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.” I whisper, looking deep into his eyes. His smile never faulters, and he leans down and kisses me.

“Don’t ever say that shit to me again” he says, breathing into my mouth, his eyes shut, still pounding relentless into me.

“What? Oh, Fuck you” I whimper out. Everything happens so quickly.

His eyes snap open and they darken, he lets go of my hair, pushing me down by my shoulder too the bed.

”Don’t.” He gives my ass a hard slap, making me yelp out.

”Ever” he pulls his dick out, and grabs my hips, flipping me onto my back.

”fucking” he pushing my legs open, and wraps them around his hips.

”say that” his right hand reaches up and wraps around my throat, putting just enough pressure.

”again” he growls the last word before ramming himself into me.

I lift my head up and attach my mouth on his shoulder, sucking harshly to cover the moans I wanted to scream out. His head rests against mine, and he grunts.

“You gonna be a good girl for me now?” He breathes out heavily, and looks down at me. We make eye contact and I pout, refusing to give in. His hand is still on my throat, and he gives it a squeeze. I groan in response, shutting my eyes.

“Look at me” he commands. My eyes flutter open and he has a smirk on his face.

“I’ll only be a good girl if you promise to stop fucking other girls”

His hips stutter a second before he completely stops. The grip on my throat is released,and he pushes himself up on both hands, hovering over me, my legs still tightly wrapped around his hips.

“Is that what you really want?” He asks sincerely.

I wiggle my hips to try and get him to keep going, but he doesn’t budge.

“I dunno. Can we just keep fucking?” I please, grabbing onto his bicep and reaching up to kiss his neck.

“Sure” he whispers before thrusting again.

We dont say anything the rest of the time, until Rafe is about to cum.

”’m close”

”Not inside me” I protest.

”Fucking duh” he grumbles into my neck before pulling out and finishing on my stomach. He immediately stands up, grabs a tissue and starts cleaning me off.

Once he’s done, he passes me my robe, and he puts his clothes back on.

“Well, are we like good now?” He asks, checking his pockets for his wallet and keys.

”Yea, we always were”

”Right” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Im just gonna” he points towards the door he snuck through. I nod my head in understanding, and watch him leave. I turned off my bedside lamp, and laid in silence.

My moment of self loathing was interrupting by my phone ringing.

Sabrina

I answer immediately

“Sab?” I say into the phone, sitting up.

”Y/N, you need to get down to the beach right now. Like NOW”

I furrow my brow, take my phone from my ear to check the time. I was 9:27pm

”I dont know Sab I was about to go to bed honestly.”

”Bitch, it’s the last night of spring break. And mostly everyone is back, and we’re partying on the beach. Get here NOW” she yells the last part into the phone before hanging up. I hurriedly pack a bag with miscellaneous illegal items, slip on a hoodie and shorts then run out the door. I check Sabrina’s location to see where on the beach she was, and it was decently close for me to make it on foot.

When I arrive, I see a mix of faces, those I get along with, and those who I simply pretend dont exist on a regular basis. Before Sabrina sees me, I catch a glimpse of rafe. He’s taking a drag of a cig while Kelce talks to him and Topper. Topper looks semi interested, while rafe looks like he couldn’t care less. His face looks angry and hard. And hot. Like. Really fucking hot.

Before I could analyze his face more, Sabrina yells out my name, and his head whips in my direction. I look away before our eyes meet, and smile when they land on Sabrina.

“Hi baby, I missed you” she cried out, standing up to greet me with a hug. She’s sitting on a towel that topper brought. I smile down at them and look around to see where I can set up. Conveniently, there’s a spot next to rafe in between him and some random kook.

“Why dont you go sit by rafe and cheer him up a bit. He’s in one of his moods.” Topper jokes, nudging his head over. I give a fake smile and trudge over, laying my towel down without acknowledging him.

When I sit down, he gives me a Look.

“What? We’re you saving this for someone?” I say with a smirk. He gives me a fake smile, and laugh then rolls his eyes.

I pul out the bottle of wine I stole from my parents bar and take a big gulp. I hand it out to him, and he takes it, drinking a small mouthful before passing it back.

We get along cordially, mainly because we dot actually talk to each other. We just silently pass the bottle back and forth between each other, while people chatter among us.

When the night gets late, and everyone starts slowly leaving the beach, it ends up just me and rafe, my head laying on his lap, staring at the stars as he stroked my hair and looked out into the ocean.

”This is nice” he mumbles. I nod my head in agreement and he looks down.

His face is sad, and his eyes are brimmed with tears.

“Y/N, I dont think I can be the person you need.” He whispers, and a tear slips down from his face and lands on my cheek. He wipes it away then looks back out into the ocean.

“Could you try?” I as. My face is hot and flushed from the alcohol, and I was probably going to say something I would later regret. But i don't care. I wanted him to want to try for me.

“You might have to teach me”

“Okay” I whisper. “Rafe?”

”Yes, Y/N?”

”Can you take me home? And will you stay with me?” He smiles.

“Of course”

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: @ltristessedureratoujours @davinashifts333 @tomholland792

[amnmesias]

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞

word count: 6.5k

summary: On September 1st, 1971 you were sorted into Slytherin, putting you on the map as the first Potter to do so, and the first time James Potter turned his back on someone he claimed he loved dearly. You’re slowly drifting away, turning the Potter twins into a sad tale, but after one deadly incident close to Christmas break, James decides to put an end to the distance he unknowingly created. 

How can you say that you love someone you can’t tell is dying? 

cw: suicidal ideation, but hinted. scars and blood mention, nosebleed. angst, very heavy on the angst. potter!reader, fem!reader. platonic marauders and rosier twins. background jily.

a/n: sorry if this too much… just had this idea for a while and i needed an outlet. likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. enjoy! xx 

···

You sighed, the bandage around your shoulder suffocating you to the point of tears. As much as you tried, you wanted to keep your compartment warm and toasty with the blanket over your seat and legs, but your efforts were in vain at the mere lack of human heat. The fogged window seemed an acceptable distraction as you dragged your window around, drawing meaningless doodles as the train passed by beautiful landscapes you barely registered. 

Something shifted on your other side, and you turned to find people walking past your compartment, pointing and whispering about you and your sad state. None of them dared to open the door, making the lump in your throat grow with each breath you took. You looked down at the cassette player in your lap, hands too shaky to change the cassette into something more cheerful.

In time, you looked up to find a pair of brown eyes staring at you with both curiosity and pity, you frowned, desperately wishing your brother’s friends would stop pestering you. Their mere presence was a bitter reminder of your brother's abandonment, the pain you suffered seeing them fill your place, share laughter together like you both did many years ago. You looked away, luckily for you, Remus got the signal and made to move past the compartment; but to Remus’ ill luck, James followed his gaze and opened the door.

“Mum said Dad won’t be able to come, but will be waiting for us at the Manor.” He murmured, his eyes pointedly trying to not stare too hard at the bandages peeking through your jumper. You nodded. “She will meet us at the station.”

“Okay,” You said, not moving to take your headphones off, nor to look at him to meet his gaze. You feared you would cry if you looked at him, a reminder of the despair in his eyes when they brought you into the infirmary. “I knew that, you know we still write to each other, right?”

James nodded quickly, swallowing hard at your voice devoid of emotion. “Yeah, just… Just wanted to make sure,” He paused, quickly stepping in to fully enter and close the door behind him. You finally turned your head to him with surprise. “You alright?”

You scoffed, finally taking your headphones off your ears, “What do you think, James?” This time, he has no qualms about studying you completely, eyes skimming over your poor posture as a result of the accident. You couldn’t help rolling your eyes, your blood boiled as you spat. “Yes, I’m fine. Will that be all, or…?”

James closed his mouth and schooled his face, something desperately needing to be said. You bit your lip, your insides filling with regret but having no intention of backing away from the incoming disagreement. Something in you stirred with hope, hope that he would finally give you your place and sit with you. However, the bespectacled boy simply nodded and left the compartment. 

You let out a breath, disbelief and disappointment in your heart as you placed the headphones back in your head. A tear slowly rolled down your cheek and you quickly cleaned it, your shaky hand almost poking your eye as you desperately tried to swallow the possible panic attack you felt looming over you. The countless letters addressed to you from your mother heavy on your satchel, most of them asking you to fix your relationship with James, the other begging you to take care of yourself, you weren’t sure which ones hurt the most. 

The moment the word Sectumsempra left Snape’s mouth, a curse filled with magic so dark not even the boy could understand it, you almost felt bad for the relief you felt in your chest at the pain that took over your body. That morning still felt like a far away memory, a dream that shook you up so much you still recalled after you woke up; McGonagall’s surprised gasp and the students that were unfortunate enough to witness the moment your fellow housemate almost made you cut into pieces. You were brought up in a rush to the infirmary where your brother and his friends recovered from a rather violent full moon, James had almost passed out at the pure rage he felt when he was informed of the situation. You weren’t proud to admit that your brother being angry on your behalf was a nice memory to die with, a redemption that came almost too late. 

You weren’t even prouder to admit to the sinking feeling in your chest when you woke up to find nothing had changed, the only remains that someone still cared about you in the form of Madam Pomfrey’s gentle touches. James hadn’t stayed back to check on you, and you couldn’t blame him. To that day, you couldn’t fully stare at your reflection in the mirror without your eyes filling with tears, had it not been for Pandora, promoted to friend as of lately, you wouldn’t have been able to even put the healing potions in your scars. 

Just in time, three knocks came at the door, you turned, ready to yell at your brother or his friends to fuck off, but Pandora’s gentle smile made you pause. She pointed at the seat across from you, cold and empty, and you nodded dumbly. She stepped in, arms filled with sweets from the trolley and smiled at you as she made herself comfortable in the seat. 

“Hi, how are you feeling?”

Why is everyone asking me that?, you thought bitterly. Immediately feeling regretful when Pandora presented you with a Chocolate Frog. 

“I’m okay,” you murmured, shyly taking the sweet from her hand. She had a different color in each of her nails, you noted. “Thank you.”

Her platinum white locks fell to her shoulder as she sat back, her own Chocolate Frog in her hand. She smiled at you and picked her book, and you wanted to cry tears of happiness. Comfortable silences were Pandora’s main form of love language, you quickly learned, and you were eternally grateful for the company. You weren’t sure if you had it in you to put up with your self hatred for another moment, let alone the rest of the train ride.

You looked up from your cassette case, eyes lingering a beat too long on the compartment door. 

“He’s two compartments over,” She said breezily, noticing the hesitance in your movements. “I passed them on my way here, he seems gutted.”

“Oh, please,” You made a scoffing sound, your shaky hand struggling to take a new cassette off its box. “He just feels bad for me, but he’s going to do absolutely nothing about it.” You poked your cheek with your tongue, satisfied when you finally got the cassette out. 

“Have you thought that maybe,” Pandora started to say, fully closing her book now that she had your undivided attention, “maybe… he thinks it’s too late? You have been a bit too cold to him…”

“It’s the least he deserves,” You spat, then cleared your throat. If Pandora felt offended at your anger, she didn’t show, she never did. You looked back to the window, feeling the train had noticeably slowed down. “I just… I’m so tired of waiting for him, I don’t… I don’t know how to feel, I so badly wanted him to get close but now that he’s trying I don’t…” To your utter horror, you felt tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “I’m so confused.”

Pandora’s lips curled in an empathetic smile, she reached and held your shaky hand, gently sweeping her thumb across your knuckles, you took a deep breath, trying to collect yourself as students began to empty the train. 

“I’m sorry,” You dared to meet her heterochromic eyes. 

She shook her head, chuckling quietly. “No need to be sorry, keeping those feelings bottled up must be so tiring, I’m sure.” You laughed weakly, and used your free hand to discretely clean your cheeks. “You might’ve accepted your loneliness a long time ago, but that doesn’t mean it has to be permanent, sweet girl. Evan would agree, though he’s more shy to actually say it. You got more people in your corner than you realize, only if you let them…” She turned to the door, and you followed her gaze where you found James and Sirius walking past with a troubling look in their eyes. Pandora stood up, “You need help with your trunk?”

You opened your mouth, but were interrupted by the door opening. “Ready to go?” Sirius asked, and you frowned.

“I can carry it, thank you.” You smiled at Pandora, pointedly ignoring his question. She nodded, and reached to give you a quick hug, gentle and careful to not hurt you. “I’ll see you next term.”

“Write me?” She smiled, passing you a small box and you nodded, eyes in a daze as you tried to read the note. She walked to the door, and smiled at both boys. “Happy christmas.” 

You watched her go, shaky hand still holding the box. James frowned, and studied you for a few more seconds before Sirius, who wanted to leave the station immediately before his parents would show up to drag him and Regulus away, cleared his throat rather loudly. 

“Are you ready to go?” He repeated, making a move to take your trunk but you swiftly picked it up. Your features a mix of anger and, if he had more time to look at you, he would also find pain. “Don’t be stubborn, I can take that.”

“I can take my own trunk, Sirius. But thank you.” You spat, then turned away from both boys. “I’ll meet you in the platform in a moment, let me just put everything away.” You pointed to your little cocoon, the blanket and cassette player tossed aside in your previous vacated seat. “Just remember to—”

“To not tell Mum anything,” Finished James for you, an edge to his voice. “We know.”

You nodded, fear settling in your chest at the prospect of your brother picking up the argument you had nights before. Him begging you to tell your parents about what happened with Snape, to prepare them for your almost deadly state, but you met him head on, not willing to back down until he dropped the matter. He had walked away mid argument, his friends staring at you both with something akin to sadness, watching the distance grow impossibly longer despite James’ recent efforts to fix it. You had cried that night in Pandora’s arms as she and her brother watched you with both sadness and regret, you, for your part, seemed blind to the fact that they had been the reason James had breached that subject with you.

The bespectacled boy nodded, and stepped out of the compartment with Sirius close behind. You took the cassette player and put the headphones back on, Billy Joel’s Piano Man a fitting soundtrack to the way you felt. You took your satchel and hurriedly put the messily folded blanket inside, made an assesment of the compartment to not leave anything behind and silently walked out of the compartment towards the platform.

You watched with a sinking feeling as your mother enthusiastically greeted James, grabbing him by his cheeks and showering him with kisses, Sirius and the rest of his friends in line to receive the same treatment. He says, Bill, I believe this is killing me, Billy Joel sang in your ears and you readily agreed, walking towards the bunch with a tiny smile and your insides filled with dread. 

Euphemia Potter’s bright smile dimmed when she met your eyes, and noted the sadness that, evident to everyone but you, radiated off your body as you placed your headphones around your neck. She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out, your brother and his friends watching the exchange nervously, as she practically balanced herself over you in a tight hug.

“My lovely girl,” You were horrified to almost hear her voice breaking, the least you wanted was your mother to worry for you. “How I missed you, oh, look at you.”

“Hi, mum…” You muttered, bitting your lip as she accidentally squeezed precisely around your middle, where your most painful scar was located. “Missed you too, Dad too, of course.” You patted her back awkwardly and she pulled back.

“You’re so small, oh, my girl, please be honest with me,” She grabbed your cheeks the same way she did to James, and you successfully swallowed the lump in your throat. “Have you been eating properly? I knew that veganism nonsense simply  wouldn’t do.”

Her eyes studied you much like James did earlier, and you bit your lip nervously. You knew what was coming, and you wanted to take off and disappear from her searching eyes.

“I’m actually quite hungry…” You said quietly, hoping it would be enough to distract her. 

Your mother, however, couldn’t be deterred. “What happened here?”

Unconsciously, you met James’ eyes. “Quiddtich accident.” You replied quickly, the lie easily slipping past your lips. “Fell off my broom, doesn’t hurt, though. I’m okay.”

“Quidditch!” She exclaimed, chuckling as she turned to James who smiled in return to avoid giving you away. “Honestly, what is it with my children and Quidditch? Can’t wait to see your dad’s face— Speaking of! He must be driving himself mad waiting for us! Come, come! Dear, you need help with your trunk?”

“I’m okay—” You replied and she quickly turned to shepherd everyone out of the plaform. 

“Here,” Remus walked to you, taking the handle from your shaky hand, hard to notice to the blind eye, but he knew better, he was familiar. You frowned, and he made his voice extra quiet as he spoke, “I know you can manage but you’re going to make them worse, and by the time we get to the manor everyone will notice. It’s no problem, really.”

You stared at him, then at James who pretended to listen as Sirius and your mother fussed over Regulus, who would join you for the first time for the holidays. He gave you a tight-lipped smile and you forced yourself to look back at Remus, he smiled kindly as you nodded mutely and trailed behind the group. A comfortable silence falling between you both.

—

Potter manor seemed to stay stuck in time, with its beautiful pillars and big stained glass windows letting in colorful rays of sunshine when the english countryside allowed it. You looked through the window at your mother’s lovely garden she devoted herself to during springtime, surely to kill time when your dad was busy at work and her children away at school, her caring nature evident in the way all the flowers grew beautifully, despite the current cold weather. You sighed, and walked away ready to face your hideous fate, your secret stash of healing potions and your scars ready to be tended to.

You stopped short in front of your bed, Pandora’s present small in contrast to your belongings sprawled all over your bedding. It had her touch all over the decoration, even if the card claimed it was from both Rosier twins, the silver bow and colorful wrapping paper showing her peculiar taste. Your shaky hand hovered over the ribbon and gently tugged it to open the box, where you found a pretty aquamarine necklace along with a soft pair of green knitted mittens sitting neatly enveloped by tissue paper. You smiled and wasted no time to try and put the necklace around your neck, ignoring the fact that your shaky hands would make the task nearly impossible. 

You were about to throw the necklace across the room in desperation when you heard a light knock on the door. 

“Yes?” You managed to speak out, a sob begging to leave your lips. There was silence on the other side and you briefly wondered if you imagined the whole thing. “What?”

“Can I come in?” Sirius said quietly, and you frowned, but replied a quiet yes before turning your back to the door. “Hi,” He said as he stepped in, careful in his movements.

“Hi,” You echoed quietly, looking around the room to avoid meeting his eyes. 

Sirius stared at the necklace in your hand and the discarded box in the other, “Need help with that?”

“I’m okay,” You followed his gaze and shook your head, knowing well it was a losing battle with the piece of jewelry. “I was just untangling it,” You said, barely believing it, and by his face, Sirius didn’t seem to believe you, either.

He stepped closer to you, his movements more confident. “Let me help you,” You opened your mouth to protest, but ended up handing him the necklace, knowing it was a losting battle arguing with him, too. “Stubborn thing you are, trying to put on this tiny necklace when your hands are shaking like a leaf.” He pointed as he stood behind you.

A silence followed, and you stared down at your hands, suddenly insecure in the way they trembled, another souvenir from your fellow housemate’s attack. 

“I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

“They’re not very noticeable,” He allowed, gently tugging your shoulders to make you face him. “But sadly, love, I am very familiar with these kinds of things.” His grey eyes pointedly looked at the blood dots peeking through your bandages from your jumper. “I would change those before supper if I were you.”

You swallowed and nodded, “Thank you. Is this why you came here? Is the food ready?”

He opened his mouth, but seemed to think better of it, and nodded his head. “Yes, um… Mum told me she made you some of your vegan requests.”

“Oh,” You frowned, and he chuckled quietly at the surprise in your face. “I’ll be down in a moment… I have to…”

“I know,” He nodded, then made to walk out the door but paused on the threshold, turning to face you once again. “You know… James, he’s really trying, it’s just… He doesn’t know how to reach out.”

A beat. 

“Was it hard for you? To reach out to Regulus? After everything?”

He seemed to be taken aback with your question, frowning and very clearly about to tell you to mind your sodding business, but then his eyes got a very sad look that you despised. You both dreaded and hoped for his answer.

“It was difficult, yes, but because of the way we were raised, not because there wasn’t love, it was just very tangled with other things, confusion, anger and resentment… But the love persevered. I think… I think that’s what made it bearable, that at the end of the day we loved each other despite everything.”

You nodded, visibly not satisfied with his answer. “I get that, but… you said it yourself, it was hard because of the way you were raised so… what is stopping James?”

Sirius seemed pretty close to tears himself, feeling for you and frustrated at the way James acted. Honestly not even himself could explain the way James handled everything since you both were sorted, admittedly he hadn’t known him long enough back then to be confused by the evident indifference towards you, but as he grew to know you both, that confusion grew in significance. It couldn’t have been the same James that offered him his home without thinking twice when he learned the hell that was Grimmauld Place, it was hard for Sirius to think that James held some resentment towards his sister for being sorted into Slytherin when he himself despised Sirius’ parents for disowning him for being a Gryffindor. You didn’t seem to be particularly fond of the pureblood supremacy ideologies your house held, either; keeping to yourself and to your friends, the Rosier twins and occasionally Regulus as of lately, and the gentle way you carried yourself through the hallways. He often wondered if the Sorting Hat had made a mistake. 

“I… I don’t know, sweetheart,” He sighed. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, I don’t think this is a conversation for me to participate in.” 

“It’s alright,” You nodded, once again swallowing the lump in your throat. “I’ll be down in a minute.” You said before marching towards your bathroom, pointedly closing the door behind you. 

Sirius sighed, feeling very angry at himself for the way he managed to mess it all up in a matter of seconds. A hand squeezed his shoulder and he turned his face to meet both Remus and his brother’s sad eyes, he shrugged sadly and closed the door to your room quietly. A few seconds later, Lily walked out of her own room, immediately taking notice of the three boys sadly staring at your door and ushered them all to the dinning room, a sad look in her own eyes as she pointedly tried to ignore the knot in her stomach. 

—

You stared blankly at a spot next to your father‘s face as you pretended to listen to his very heated debate with James about where should the next Quidditch Cup be. The food long gone and conversations passed in a daze as you ate supper and managed to participate here and there and answer the questions directed to you. You unconsciously thumbed the precious gemstone resting in your chest, the repetitive action helped you make the shakiness in your hands less evident. 

You sat in a wingback chair, making a cocoon of yourself as you watched your brother and his friends happily chatting away to different topics, you watched as he occasionally grabbed Lily’s hand and kissed it, or the way he reached over his girlfriend to shove Sirius’ shoulder, mischief glistening behind his glasses. You knew you were being a killjoy, your pain almost an imposition in their delightful conversation had they noticed, if they ever did, or let them notice, you bitterly thought. 

“Oh, darling,” Suddenly you had a handkerchief shoved to your nose. You frowned, but let your mother’s hand cradle your face back. “You almost stained your jumper,” Horrified, you noticed that your nose was bleeding, a common occurrence since the incident. 

“Sorry,” You mumbled, trying to look away from her eyes, slowly filling with worry. “Don’t know what happened there, strange.”

“Good thing your mum has good reflexes,” your dad pointed, chuckling and blissfully unaware of the sudden tension in the room. “Growing up with you lot gave her reflexes of steel, she would’ve been a killer Seeker.”

“Let that go, honey,” Your mum added distractly, looking into your eyes, searching for… what? You were not sure, but her scrutiny made you nervous. “Are you okay?”

You inhaled deeply, suddenly feeling very warm. “Yes, I can take it, mum–” You made to raise your hand to take the handkerchief from her, her eyes falling on your hands.

“Are you cold?”

“What? No. I’m fine.”

“But you’re shaking.” She argued, and you found yourself slowly losing your patience at her questioning. “Are you sure you’re—”

“Can everyone stop asking me that? I said I’m fine.” You spat, shocking everyone into silence, even yourself. “Sorry, I… I’m sorry. That was uncalled for, I…Yes, I’m alright.”

Somewhere from the floor came a scoff and you felt dread recoiling around your ribcage. You lowered the handkerchief from your face to see James dryly chuckling at you, his hazel eyes holding a fire that was only reserved for… Horrified, you realized he was about to tell your parents everything. 

“James,” You whispered, pleading with your eyes to force him to take a step back. But your brother seemed done covering for you. “Please don’t.”

“James?” Your mother turned to him, who in return stood up from his spot on the floor, Lily reached out to pull him down again. “Is anyone going to fill me in as to what’s gotten into you both?”

He stared hard at you, then, “She was attacked.” 

And just as the words slipped past his lips, chaos ensued with your parents, neither of them expecting those words to leave James’ lips. The air was sucked out of your lungs, and you reached to press the heel of your hand to your sternum, as if that would help your lungs accept the air you desperately seeked. You were not sure where you got the strength, but you marched towards him, betrayal in your eyes. 

“You have no right, James.” You sneered, meeting his stormy gaze, he looked down at you, both your bodies pulsating with unresolved anger. “You promised!”

“I did not promise a damn thing to you. You’re my sister, and I cannot simply sit back and watch you fade away from us, can I?”

You scoffed. “It didn’t stop you before, hasn’t it?” He stepped back, as if your words alone had slapped him across his face. Your parents watched the scene with horror. “You’re my sister, you’re a liar. You made it very clear I am very much not your sister, James. In fact, I think you made it very clear to everyone that anyone can be accepted into your fucking marauders club except me.” 

“Wait, so this is why you’re so miffed with me? Because I didn’t let you in the Marauders?” James had the nerve to laugh, and you stared at him in shock. “You have officially lost the plot, grow up, I beg you.”

“James!”

“No, James,” You met him head on, stom in your eyes as you tried to find your words. “Contrary to what your ego-driven mind might think, not everyone wants to be part of your glorified freak show.” You said, not at all regretting the venom in your voice. “You left me. You… you don’t even try, you think that just because you fought for my honor breaking Snape’s nose everything would be forgiven?”

“Look at what he did to you!” He pointed, squirming a finger inside the neckline of your jumper, pulling down to show everyone the bandage in your shoulder. You slapped his hand away with anger, but he grabbed your hand and raised it for everyone to see. “You can barely function with these shakes, look, you can barely put on a necklace!”

“James, stop,” Came Remus’ stern voice from somewhere in the room. 

At this, your glossy eyes turned to Sirius, who, until that moment, had managed to sit back calmly and not let the whole ordeal get to him. He looked away as your betrayal was evident in your eyes.

“That wasn’t for you to tell, Sirius.” You said to him quietly, anger barely contained.

“Well, I, for one, am glad he told me. You could’ve gone the entire break hiding it from us had it not been for Sirius.”

“Like hiding it is such a hard task.” You snapped. “You barely notice my presence let alone a silly shake in my hands. I could’ve died that day and you wouldn’t have noticed at all, James.”

“You damn right could’ve bloody died! Go on, show them,” He stepped closer, and you barely registered his intention until it was too late. 

With the help of his reflexes, you were a beat too late to stop him from lifting the hem of your jumper, exposing some of the fully healed scars in your stomach, the biggest one cutting through your navel in a nasty gash. Your mother gasped and her eyes filled with tears immediately, your father stared in shock, despair evident in his eyes. You pushed James away with all the strength you could muster, accidentally pushing your mother in the process, and pulled your jumper back down. 

“You’re a complete, utter, dickhead, James.” You stared at him in shock, so did everyone in the room. “Fuck you, seriously, fuck you.”

“Darling,” Your mother stepped to you, but you were too mortified to even accept her hug. “How long… How did this…” She seemed desperately finding the right words to go, but a sob left her lips instead. You finally allowed the tears in your eyes to trail down your cheeks. “Why didn’t you say?”

“What would I even say?” You said desperately in between shallow breaths, your usually calm demeanor breaking. “That I was so depressed I riled him up so he could hurt me? That I didn’t even fight back? How was I supposed to explain that, mum? Tell me,” Before you could even process it, the feelings you had bottled up for months seemed to be done being held back in your chest. You chuckled humorlessly, “How would that conversation even go? That I’m so miserable, though I have no reason to be, that I walked towards the one person who would surely hurt me and enjoy it? This, exactly, is why I didn’t say. But here comes bloody James Potter who has to be everyone’s fucking hero! Are you happy now, James? Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to thank you in front of everyone that you saved my honor by hurting Snape? Well, here you go! Now, leave me the fuck alone.”

Had you been less blinded by your anger, you probably would’ve waited for anyone to speak, or at last apologize for the amount of curse words you managed to say in a span of 20 seconds, but you simply exhaled deeply and stormed off towards your room, where you surely would spend the rest of your days crying away in embarrassment at the situation. Your tears fell hot and fast as you slammed the door behind you and sat on your bed, ignoring the stinging sensation in your shoulder by your harsh movements. Your hands shook impossibly harder to the point of actual pain in your joints, and pressed your face to your hands as you cried hard. Your sobs loud enough to drown the chaos from downstairs, your own doing, you thought angrily. 

The door to your room opened, your brain too shaken up and confused, you opened your mouth to speak but a pained sob left your lips instead. Remus’ brows pinched with sadness as he walked to you, your disheveled hair, tear streaken cheeks and the dried trail of blood down your nose an exact mirror of your inner turmoil. He stepped closer and stretched his arms out, an open invitation in case you didn’t want to be touched, but you desperately needed something or someone to ground you before you could definitely reach a full blown breakdown. A breakdown days in the making.

“You’re okay,” He said as you stepped into his arms. He carefully caged you in, keeping you secure as you felt your chest shreding to pieces as you let out sob after sob. “No one is mad at you, we’re not, I promise you, not your mum, not your dad, no one. You’re okay.” He whispered, close to tears himself. 

Soon, you felt a hand rubbing your back carefully, then, Lily’s gentle voice spoke, “Take deep breaths, honey,” 

“I… I can’t,” You scraped out, voice raspy and worn out. “I…”

“Do it with me,” She instructed, and you pulled away from your hideaway to meet her gaze. Lily smiled sadly as she gently grabbed your hand and raised it to her own chest, where you felt her own heart beating, “Follow me, okay? You can.”

You inhaled and exhaled deeply, and she did it with you. As she busied you with breathing exercises, Remus walked to your bathroom to grab a cloth and damp it with warm water, when he walked back to your room, you seemed visibly calmer. He silently passed the cloth to Lily and sat beside you on the bed, she looked into your eyes and gently pressed it to your lips and under your nose, no-doubtedly cleaning the blood and snot off your face. None of you dared to speak, the only sound in the room the occasional hiccup leaving your lips, the fight leaving you tired and numb.

“I don’t know what crossed his mind to do that,” Began Lily, pointedly keeping her voice monotone to not spark another collapse from you. “That was very…”

“Barbaric?” Remus supplied, him not trying to keep his anger away from his tone. Lily frowned at him. 

“Unlike him.” She said, then turned to you. “What he said, what he did… That was very cruel.”

“Yeah, well… I seem to always bring out the cruelest parts of him.” You finally spoke, and she hushed you to not strain your voice more. 

“I think he’s very angry at himself, and he stupidly managed to show it in the worst way possible.” Remus pointed, the fight leaving his body as he gingerly placed a loose hair behind your ear. “It was very obvious to everyone that you were struggling but it passed right above him…”

“He didn’t need to make such a spectacle of himself though, and me. We could’ve talked it, if he had asked.”

Both Remus and Lily gave you a deadpan look. 

“Okay, maybe not at first but why is it always me the one that has to reach out? I’m tired of embarrassing myself seeking for his attention.” 

“You’re right,” The three of you looked up to find James standing at the threshold of your bedroom, a mix of feelings displayed in his face, regret being the most evident. “And I’m sorry.”

Lily looked at you, and you met her green eyes. She frowned, are you sure? Her eyes asked, and you nodded, grabbing the cloth from her hand. Both stood up and walked to leave, Lily ignoring the pleading look from her boyfriend as she closed the door behind her. The room fell eerily quiet as you stared at each other, assessing your stances. 

“I’m sorry.”

“So you’ve said,” You mumbled, looking down at the cloth in your hands. 

“I’m sorry,” He repeated, as he walked closer, you tensed immediately and something inside his chest cracked. “I shouldn’t have… I… It wasn’t my place.”

You closed your eyes, succumbing to the tears forming in your eyes and brought the cloth to clean your cheeks. 

“I told you to not say anything, James. Why didn’t you listen? I… I don’t want mum or dad to get in between our mess.”

“Our mess,” He echoed, sitting next to you on the bed when you showed no signs of backing away again. “I did make a mess of everything, didn’t I?”

“It has always been, I was just the only one willing to see it as that.”

James frowned. “That’s not true.” He exhaled deeply, searching for your eyes. “I… I know I haven’t been the best brother to you but, but I wouldn’t say it reached a point where you feel like you can’t tell me anything.” 

“James,” You chuckled dryly, not even trying to argue again but to get him to see where you were coming from. “You don’t even acknowledge me back at school, you practically pretend I don’t exist.”

“I’m sorry.”

“See, you keep saying that, but I don’t hear reasons why I should forgive you.” 

“You shouldn’t forgive me, angel. In fact, what happened downstairs is the least punishment imaginable you could throw at me.” His chest filled with hope when you chuckled wetly. “I just… When I saw you in that cot, bleeding out and barely conscious, I felt like a part of me was being torn away… I had never felt so helpless in my life, knowing you would be taken away from me that easily and that I never tried to reach out? It’s been eating me alive, especially when you have been so calm about it, now I know why,“

You looked away, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to say that, I don’t know why I said it.”

“See, I think you did mean it. And it’s okay,” James scooted closer, his hand reached to yours in question, you placed it over his. He squeezed it four times, and you smiled despite the sadness in your heart. The mighty Potter duo, your own way of consoling each other when you were children. “Just, let me try again? Be a brother?”

“You never stopped being my brother, James, not to me.”

“To me neither, I’m still your brother, even if I haven’t shown it how you deserve it. But,” He paused, searching for your eyes, “Promise me that you’ll stop drifting away, that you’ll be in a distance where I can reach you.”

You swallowed, but nodded. “I’m sorry, too. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to have it get this bad, I just, I just wanted you to notice me.” Something inside you broke, and so did your voice. Thankfully, you were close enough for James to reach over and hug you gently. “I didn’t realize you wanted to talk to me, or… or get closer. I’m sorry, I’ll stay close. I promise.” You whispered, and reached out to squeeze his hand, four times. 

“I hope you can forgive me for what happened downstairs, too… I don’t… I just got so angry at myself, and… and you, but I shouldn’t have aired your pain like that.” He spoke after a long silence, voice barely contained as he fought back his own sob, not because he didn’t want to cry, but to get his feelings known. “It’s okay if it takes a while, too, I just want you to know that I’m sorry, and I regret it… I do.” I regret everything I did, it’s the bit he didn’t say, but you heard it clear in the pain in his voice.

You nodded, feeling satisfied with the heart to heart, “It might take a while, but thank you.” You dropped your head on his shoulder, and closed your eyes, finally letting your body relax against your brother. 

Your brother, who was there, willingly, hugging you. It was a nice feeling to fall asleep to, you thought as you drifted off. James looked down as your head got heavier, and noticed in your parted lips that you had fallen asleep at some point of your shared silence. He smiled, and helped you get fully into the bed, carefully placing your belongings away. 

He made to leave, but you pulled him back, your voice heavy with sleep, “Stay?”

And James, even in his drowsy state, couldn’t fight back the happiness he felt in his heart. He nodded, though you couldn’t see him, and laid next to you, your hands clasped together as you both drifted away holding onto each other, very much like you did once upon a time when you were little. 

In your desk, messily thrown along with your things by James, was Pandora’s gift, and a note in neat handwriting that said: 

Happy christmas sweet girl. Aquamarine, your birthstone, is said to possess healing properties known to cure even the most devastating of heartbreaks and tame the most powerful oceans into tranquility and peace. It also gives the bearer hope and clarity.  Love, Evan and Pandora Rosier. 

[sugarcubeindulgent]

I desire josh x male reader so bad I love how you’ve characterized Bill and Pete so far

it's only sex | josh levy x m!reader

synopsis. another explosive fight between josh and bill leaves the club picking sides. you go with the side you always do and what results has never happened before.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ contents. established relationship. internalized homophobia. swearing. angst if you squint. comfort. suggestive content. homophobic language.

a/n: i need that fat man, thank you and thank you for the request anon! ^^

Rain patters against everything its salty-wetness can touch. You grimace a bit at the sensation of the water soaking through your sneakers and licking up the hems of your pant legs. A deep frown is etched into your face as you walk down the pathway to the small and cozy home, a near replica of the rest along the block. Beneath the safety of the porch, you close the black umbrella and shove off the hood of the ridiculous big jacket your mom made you wear before you left the house. Ringing the doorbell once so you aren’t cussed out the moment the door opens, you wait a bit impatiently as the winds blowing droplets nip at any exposed skin.

When the door does open, you look up with a smile at the heavyset woman who seems relieved when she recognizes you, a smile spreading on her round and flawless face. But then she frowns and you already know what she’s going to say as she moves aside and ushers for you to come inside.

“It’s colder than the Arctic out there! What’re you doing walking in this rain? Are you trying to catch your death!”,Mrs.Levy scolds, already rubbing her manicured hands along your face with a deep frown. You scrunch up your face under her attempts to warm up your icy face with her cold hands that smell like artificial cucumbers. “Puh-lease, sweetheart, if you catch your death, who’s gonna calm down my Joshie? Love him to death but when he gets like this–” And she finally pulls her hands away with a heavy scoff and toss up of her french-manicured hands.

Smiling at her, always happy beneath her overbearing attitude, you nod and laugh lightly. “Right, sorry, Mrs.Levy. My mom’s working and my dad’s at his poker game.”,you apologize as you tug off your jacket and straighten up your hoodie and shirt beneath it when she takes the puffy jacket from you. You wipe at your face when she hangs it up to try and get rid of that feminine, artificial cucumber scent. Quickly, you drop your hands when she looks back at you. “Where is he anyway?”

“Oh, you know.” She rolls her eyes and steps forward in the entryway. “In his room playing one ‘a his Mario Bandicoot’s or something. Good luck! I’ll make you boys something to eat – I mean you might blow away in the wind if I don’t!,she exclaims with a swat to your shoulder. And she gives you a nasally laugh you can’t help but find infectious.

Giving her a word of gratitude as she walks off to make a meal that’ll no doubt be able to feed an entire family, you make your way down the corridor you’re familiar enough with.

When you reach Josh’s door, you knock three times before his voice comes through. “Ma I don’t want any food!”,he shouts angrily amidst the noises of lasers and video game grunts. You bite back the fat joke on the tip of your tongue and simply decide to enter while silently snickering to yourself. You’d rather not have whatever controller is in his hands thrown like a fastball at your face.

“It’s not your mom. Though I probably smell like her now.”,you greet Josh, shutting the door. Both your voice and the click of the door makes him pause the game. Josh looks over his shoulder, sitting in front of the television in his clean and organized room cluttered with memorabilia, collectables, comics, and various other things that simply show off his interests. Immediately, his angry expression softens beneath his glasses but he angrily turns away with a sharp exhale. You roll your eyes and walk over. “I just walked a mile in the rain, you can give me a greeting, jackass.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”,replies Josh in a snappy way but he doesn’t protest or move away when you sit down next to him. You look at him, his ponytail a bit wet and his clothes the same from what you assume to be him storming into his mom’s car and off when he left Bill’s house. But his glasses are clean, low on his big nose wrinkling a bit in his deep scowl. “I’m not apologizing to that bastard. Or “compromising” like you and Jerry try to push constantly.” He mocks a girly voice in the word “compromising”.

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head and expel a sigh. “I’m not gonna say any of that.”,you say with annoyance at his anger. Though you’re unsure what you expected after the explosive fight he and Bill had. Josh seems relieved when you say this at least, you shake your head and shrug. “For once I think it’s not both of your faults. Bill was being a complete dickhead about the campaign.” Josh’s eyes snap to you and he fixes his frames on his nose with a sharp scoff.

“Exactly! What the fuck kind of person thinks the Winter season is better than a firey hellscape?”,shouts Josh so loudly you scoot away from him a bit. You swear you may go deaf the longer you stay friends with everyone in this damn club. Josh then drops his hands onto his heavy thighs that strain abit in his khaki pants with his legs criss-crossed. Breathing a bit unevenly at the shouting, he then tosses a hand away. “But you assholes wanted to compromise instead of telling Bill to kill himself! Ridiculous! Everyone’s always against me!”,he shouts again slamming his fists into his knees.

Simply letting him punch himself out in his anger for a moment, you hesitate before you look at him. “I’m not.” His eyebrows furrow tightly, his brown eyes sliding to you as you smile a bit in amusement. “Not this time at least.” Josh’s eyes flicker between your eyes then down to you smile, despite his slightly heavy breathing he smiles a bit and you continue. “Fuck Bill and fuck everything. Tomorrow during our meeting I’ll side with you and I’m sure Jerry will too.” You speak while you lean forward and grab a second controller from beneath the television unit.

When you sit back down and hold the main controller while handing the second one to Josh, he tilts his head and furrows his eyebrows at you with doubtful eyes. “Really? You know that jackass is just gonna start another fight.”,reasons Josh with an immediate dark scowl as he takes the remote from you.

You wet your lips before you grin. “Then we can tell him to go kill himself.” Immediately Josh laughs and smacks your shoulder.

“Yes! We can!” You laugh and you turn to the game he had been playing against the algorithm. Exiting out to the main menu, you hear Josh clear his throat and you turn to look at him while criss-crossing your legs. He’s looking at the T.V but he’s wearing a bit of an annoyed expression with some red dusting his cheeks. That familiar fluttering in your stomach you’ve been ignoring for the past few months returns. “Thanks. For taking my side. And for coming here.”,he says sincerely even if it sounds like he’s pulling teeth.

Smiling, you shove his knee with yours. “Don’t be such a fag.”,you laugh a bit more tense than you mean to,”Now let me wipe the floor with you.”

The pixel-y Streetfighter starts up and you feel the tense and angry, buzzing atmosphere that once took the room is gone with a lighter and competitive air. You think that’s why you’ve always liked Josh the most out of the group. Aside from reasons you refuse to acknowledge, despite his explosive personality he’s never that way with you unless provoked. Pete and Bill can be jackasses and Jerry is always too impartial; it makes it difficult to be around them. Josh is always so himself and it’s not always a bad thing.

You suddenly realize you’re getting distracted in your thoughts during the fourth round of playing. The food Mrs.Levy made for you and Josh half-eaten on plates on either side of you guys.

“Oh you’re done!”,exclaims Josh. And you straighten up, looking at your lowering health bar then to Josh, an idea sparks in your head. A grin splits across your lips and you don’t tear your eyes from the screen when your hand reaches out and slaps over Josh’s glasses lens’. “Hey! What the fuck! Cheater!”,he’s shouting but laughing between words.

When his heavy hand suddenly starts shoving at the side of your head, you laugh and sit up. “Hey! Not fair, your hand is the size of the screen!”,you shout while sitting up on your knees.

Josh’s health bar is lowering with your button-smashing hits while yours begins to steadily decline again. Laughter fills the room as you both try to shove the other’s face away from the screen. Josh’s hands smell of the sandwiches you two just had and you’re sure yours smell like the chips. Before either of you die, you suddenly smack away Josh’s remote. It glides across the shag carpet and you laugh while quickly mashing your buttons. “That’s a dirty move, dick!”,Josh yells and you move your remote as he tries to snatch it.

Just as his character is killed by yours, your elbow knocks into your empty glass that once held orange soda. Looking down, you swear softly. “Oh shit.” Then you feel Josh’s hand slip past the controller and it shoves your chest hard. With a grunt, your back hits the carpet and you feel Josh’s heavy presence above you. “Fuck!”,you swear hotly when the remote hits you in the face before it falls to the side. Scowling, your eyes look to Josh who is grinning as if he’s won. You laugh and rub your stinging forehead. “Why are you laughing? I still…”

Sat up, Josh positioned between your legs, you look to the screen he points at and you immediately go slack jawed. He paused the game before his character’s death. Your eyes snap to him and you laugh, punching him in the chest. “You’re such a pussy when it comes to losing, man!”,you say without shouting yet your voice is still loud.

Laughing, Josh punches you in the front of your shoulder. “And you always try to cheat! Don’t think I haven’t seen your card slips since Jerry taught you his fucking magic bullshit.”

You grin and lean forward with a raise of your eyebrows. “Prove it, butterball. I know what your trick dice look like.”,you challenge him in return. Josh scoffs hotly and yet his smile suddenly falls as he looks along your features then down at the position you’re both in. He’s positioned between your legs while sitting on his own behind him, you’re sat up and right in his face.

That uncomfortable feeling in your stomach returns when you realize the same thing. You blink and your lips part to say something, to make some joke involving the word “fag” or some variation of it but Josh is suddenly leaning forward. Unable to even internally light the fuse in your stomach before his mouth is on yours. The fuse lights and your shock runs for as long as it burns. You can feel how hot his face is in the closed mouth kiss that feels awkward at first. But then the firework goes off and you lean in.

Cupping his cheeks that burn your palms, you lean in and kiss him back. Josh immediately sighs through his nose and you feel the edge of his glasses press into your cheek when you pull him in harder. Inexperienced, knowing damn well that Josh is, you cautiously open your mouth. His sweaty and clammy hands grab your hips, the way his thumbs unintentionally touch the band of your boxers makes your body shudder. You suddenly feel his tongue, your tongue pushing into his mouth with each smacking of lips as you both tilt your head in alternating opposite directions.

Your face must be burning as hot as his, a hard-on starting to press painfully against the inside of your jeans as you explore the inside of his warm and wet mouth. You can taste what you had both just eaten along with his rootbeer of choice and something uniquely him. Josh suddenly moans against your mouth when you whine and you feel that firework suddenly drowned in water. Ice cold water that makes you pull away from Josh, your hands falling to grip the carpet behind you for support when his hands pull from your boxers waistband.

You’re both panting, Josh’s face as red as yours feels. Licking your lips, your wide eyes dart between his wide eyes behind his glasses slowly fading the fogginess beneath the lens. Your heart is pounding in your chest, stomach a mess of butterflies and veins feeling thickened with disgust in yourself and him. But your lips are tingling with the rest of your body, your head almost dizzy.

Josh is the first to pull away entirely, he chokes out a laugh and he scowls while shaking his head. “I’m not a–”

Quickly, you force a laugh and shake your head with a wave while you pull back to sit up on your ass. “No, no I mean I’m not–not a–” You’re unable to say the word. Fag. Faggot. You’ve said it more times than you’ve said your own name and you suddenly can’t say it? You blink hard and you shrug loosely, you’re unsure what to do – what to say. “Uh – my mom’s probably expecting me back home. I-just told her I’d be here to–”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead.”,Josh quickly sputters, fixing his glasses and looking away when you stand up.

You don’t even offer him a farewell when you leave his room. Your footsteps move quickly down the corridor as you wipe your mouth and let the spit gather in your mouth. Unable to even look at Mrs.Levy you leave the house with your coat in hand. The rain falls and hits you, soaking your hoodie and shirt until it catches your scalp and rolls down your face. Spitting on the sidewalk, you begin to hyperventilate.

A kiss. You kissed Josh. You kissed a guy. Your first kiss was Josh, who’s a guy.

Whatever. It isn’t as if he’s a real guy, maybe it could’ve been practice for the real thing. Like when you use a pillow or something. Your mind tries to rationalize what happened.

You still have to shower for two hours when you get home and another hour after your most shameful jerk-off session ever.

[satureja13]

Sai and Vlad started the last installments for the droid scanner. Come tomorrow morning, they should be able to boot it, get a rough direction where Tiny Can is and finally leave Batuu's orbit. That was about time! Vlad wants to celebrate this milestone in Moogies Bar, but Sai already has other plans. Jeb asked him to try the cooling basin/hot tub! Sai is so excited. Jeb barely ever makes the first step. It even got worse after his revelation he'll probably never be able to woohoo Sai... And after Jeb shoved him even farther away by building the computer corner for him, Sai feared the worst. Finally putting Jack's plan to lure Jeb into an 'accidental woohoo' is not only going so slow because Sai's body needs to get prepared for their first woohoo, Sai was also reluctant because - in some way - he's tricking Jeb into it. At least it feels a bit like that, even though he knows how much Jeb wants it too. But Sai also had a talk with 'Big Snout' Jack earlier, and Jack told Sai how broken Jeb was when he came to their room to pour his heart out. So Jeb's offer to jump in the hot tub together came just in the nick of time to put some wood behind the arrow! This was the sign Sai was waiting for to go for it!

But when they crossed the cargo bay and approached the entrance to the engine room with the cooling basin/hot tub... ... they heard moaning... water splashing... ... and Jeb: "Gods, you're so tight..."

What the...

None of them wanted to know what's going on in there, but like being pulled by invisible strings, they moved inside. Vlad too, because there's no way he'll leave his friend alone in this. ... Just to find Ji Ho there together with Jeb! They didn't even notice them... Ji Ho let out a soft moan: "You truely have magic hands, Jeb."

This painfully reminded Vlad and Sai of the one night beyond the Veil, when Jeb's magic entered Ji Ho to find that spell... Jealousy biled up in both of them. What is going on here?! Jack: "Ah, you're finally here! What do you think? Awesome, right? We've been at it all day!" Sai is about to faint and Vlad can't even look Ji Ho's way: "You've ... been ... at it? What...?" Is this ... an orgy?

Jack: "Yes, we've installed the showers and a sitting corner - there's even a snack vending machine!" Kiyoshi: "Poor Ji Ho strained his back by setting it up - but don't you worry, Vlad. You know Jeb is an excellent healer and Ji Ho's as good as new now, after a healthy massage." So this 'you're so tight' and 'you have magic hands' was a ... massage? To heal Ji Ho's back? Skully interruped them: "Now that we're finally all here - let's get the party started!" And - of course - the goats gathered too. To not miss anything out ^^'

Jeb: "Sai, Vlad! I was just about to text you. Try the new showers and come on in! The water is just right! I added some of my relaxing herb essences. It's wonderful."

Skully started his record player:

'I'm glad you're home Now did you really miss me? I guess you did by the look in your eye (Look in your eye, look in your eye) Well lay back and relax While I put away the dishes (put away the dishes) Then you and me can rock a bell

You can ring my bell, ring my bell You can ring my bell, ring my bell You can ring my bell, ring my bell You can ring my bell, ring my bell

The night is young And full of possibilities Well, come on and let yourself be free, yeah My love for you (love for you, love for you) So long I've been savin' Tonight was made for me and you'

Anita Ward - Ring my Bell (I can't believe we've never played this masterpiece in one of the episodes before?)

Skully chuckled, he has every reason to celebrate. None of the Little Ones placed the right bet on who would be the first pairing in the cooling basin/hot tub! So all the money's on the bank. Little Goat: 'Tch.'

It wasn't all that unlikely, though. Ji Ho and Jeb often share a bathroom - and even a hot tub at the Tavern at Mount Komorebi - and the glances!

(Aouwww! Vlad and Ji Ho's Little Goats are kissing! 💞🐐)

Vlad and Sai recovered from the shock and took their showers.

Vlad went into the tub. It's so hot in here. And Ji Ho immediately moved next to him.

So Sai could sit next to Jeb. Vlad ogled Ji Ho's back. Is he still hurting? Ji Ho must have suppressed his pain so he wouldn't upset Vlad through their Bond. Surely he didn't want him to heal his back - because it's still so awkward between them... What would he give to be able to touch Ji Ho as easily and natural as Jeb could...

Even though Jack was busy with his fated mate, he noticed Vlad's glances and he knows how jealous Vlad gets when someone dares to touch Ji Ho. Jack: "Kiyoshi, as a healer - would you say Ji Ho needs a thorough aftercare even though he feels better now?" Kiyoshi played along: "Of course he does! Vlad is a healer too, he should do a full body examination later and see if there are some more tight spots that need attention and being cared of." Vlad: "Will you two put your dirty mouths on each other's again and stop talking? PLEASE?"

Jack: "Ah. If it is still such a hazzle for you, Jeb will continue caring for Ji Ho. Right, Jeb?" Jeb: "Ehm..." Sai: "Omg, Jack!" Jack: "You can thank me later ;) "

Vlad, after he stopped hissing: "Fine! I'll do it!" Jack: "That's my Boy!" Jack killing two Klatooine Paddy Frogs with one Hutt, hahaha

After that, they had a relaxing and fun evening. Ji Ho and Jack left the hot tub and raided the snack machine. And Sai was happy. Even though he didn't have his sexy time with Jeb. It's a while ago since they had such a carefree time all together. There will be other ocassions soon when he and Jeb would be able to be alone in here. And then Jeb wouldn't feel so tense because he has good memories of this place. Jack and the others did a good job making this engine room an awesome hang-out.

Jack noticed Ji Ho is a bit stiff: "Does it still hurt?" Ji Ho rubbed his back: "Not as bad as before. I'm ok." Vlad leaned forward to try to sense something through their Bond.

Ji Ho: "But I can lift my arms again higher than before Jeb's massage. See?" At some point Ji Ho stopped in his movement: "Ouch." Ji Ho really tried to whisper the 'Ouch' - but of course Vlad heard it - and stiffened too. He will care for Ji Ho - even if it's killing him... Kiyoshi: "We should mix an ointment so Vlad can rub it in ... Ji Ho's back." Ms Coombes was right, Jack does have a negative impact on Kiyoshi ^^' Jeb: "Something that relaxes his muscle and tenders his tight spot." Vlad: "..."

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter 'Goats in Space': starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Piglets in Space' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[holyguardian]

Aerith softened. Maybe it was because of her exhaustion. Maybe it was a mix of feelings, that involved an acknowledgement without Nikolaos' bravery her own brother would not be with them. But as she embraced each of his family, his parents, his siblings, aunts and uncles and cousins who all ran wild with him, she slowly choked up.

It was a moment of weakness. She didn't crumple and start to sob — her breaths were a little shaky, tears spilled, and still she hugged and looked to each and every family member, uttering what little words she could to offer any comform.

Mopping away her tears she forced a shaky kind of smile. One that gentled around the edges as his family slowly left to do their final rite. The collecting of Nikolaos' ashes. Exhaling another deep breath, she caught the movement of Somnus approaching. Her eyes must have looked a little tired with how he sweetly led her to a quiet far-off end of the temple to take a moment to rest.

She watched him lay down his blue shawl, the very same that had wrapped Roran when he was shaking harder than a leaf in the coastal winds that morning.

But then her gaze lifted again. Somnus was stoic when it came to his own sadness. He tried to hide his tears as though they were something shameful... a sad little smile tugged at her lips again, and she responded by simply taking him into her arms for a long hug.

One of Aerith's hands soothed at his back. No words needed to be said — he could cry, or he could steady himself. It didn't matter. She was there for him all the same, soothing gentle circles at his back.

Only when it felt right, and only when she felt her own head feeling a bit light did she ease from the hug and lower to sit down upon the shawl-blanketed marble steps. Her head lowered and both her hands held her face heavily. Then she rubbed at her face and pushed her own hair back with another big exhaled breath. That was a lot. Emotionally. Physically, even, she could feel her body ache for having used so much magic — then, and today. She really had pushed it.

"... no, thankyou. I couldn't have... wouldn't have..." without Somnus, this moment would not have taken place. "His family can have the peace of a farewell. They said the words that they wished they could have, and it's thanks to you. I was too scared to disappoint them."

Her legs tucked up and her arms wrapped around them. Like that, Aerith seemed much smaller, especially when the fabrics of her layers were held in close and stopped from billowing around her. "... I'm going to sleep so deep tonight. Nidhogg's roar won't even be able to stir me."

 He had promised her to take on the talk to Nikolaos’ family. But when Aerith left, only the sensation of her touch on his face lingering, Somnus felt his own bravery struggling for a moment.

But now they had begun. So, they had to see it through.

The story he told Nikolaos’ family was one of gratitude and support. One of grief and empathy. And it was not his own – it was Aerith and her proposal. The urn she had painted was brought forward.

Even knowing their culture, Somnus could have only guessed their reactions. For a moment he held his breath, when they took the offered piece of art Aerith had painted for them.

The tears on their faces ran down into lips that tried to smile.

They accepted. The urn, the proposal of Aerith’s prayer, the idea of a chance of a farewell to their beloved Nikolaos.

Every step into the temple felt heavy. The darkness so all-consuming in there. And yet no one dared to get closer to the Princess praying. Somnus watched, feeling as if each heartbeat thundering in his chest was suffocating his breath. And yet… the Lifestream answered her call finally.

What Aerith did was something that Somnus would never forget. It would accompany all his life and change core beliefs he had held onto since he had been a child. The green light, the chorus of voices, herself kneeling amid this… it touched something within his own soul and heart. Leaving an imprint to remain forever.

As did the words Nikolaos’ spirit gave to him. A jab, a joke. Like back when they had been sparring. A small challenge.

“Don’t fumble this, princeling!”

Somnus knew what Nikolaos meant with ‘this’. Them. Aerith and him. Their future together. How he treated the Princess that gave the soldier a chance to say goodbye to his family.

The shock was quite clear on Somnus’ face. He did not even dare to move, staying in the shadows of the pillars as the scene right before him concluded.

The green light seeped out of the temple and with it the border between death and life was built up once more. Leaving a family that only gave the Princess a moment to utter her last little words from Nikolaos before disbelieving chuckles and choked tears ran freely once more. And they came to her, circling her, cupping her face, kissing her hands, her hair, saying their thanks in every way possible. Calling her a blessing.

How could words ever convey what Aerith had done for them? They simply could not. Somnus felt the same, when after some time the family took their leave, with final kisses and sad smiles to Aerith, though the hope had returned to their eyes.  And urn with finely painted details held tightly to the mother’s chest. They would go and collect his ashes. And yet they now had proof that Nikolaos would forever be with them.

Somnus slowly came from the shadows, his eyes mustering Aerith. Recognizing how exhausted she was. He wanted to help her, gingerly taking her hands once more and leading her off to the end of the temple, beyond the altar, where the temple opened up again towards the lonesome coast, with steps where he urged her gently to sit down upon the shawl he loosened from his shoulders.

Though there was something even Somnus could not hide. His face had been perfectly still for all this ceremony. He knew how to act. And yet… what she had done, what she had allowed him to witness, what she had given Nikolaos and him… it made a few single tears drop from his face, that Somnus quickly hid by bowing his head.

“Thank you…”

[orchidshark]

I have an idea to write a supernatural fic (i know its 2025 fricken sue me) inspired by Epic. Some wild found family shit with def some Sabriel and Destiel thrown in there. Ofc just barely cannon compliant to make the story line and ships work.

Basic outline, Sam and Dean end up having to take in a girl (around 11) when her family dies and shes left with instructions to call John of all people. Oops tho they didnt get the message that his dead and she gets Sam and Dean instead. Already been raised by hunters and thus knowing WAY too much about the supernatural (great parenting choices made all around IM LOOKIN AT YOU JOHN), the boys take her in. We get some found family with Sam and Dean basically trying to do things better than their dad. "No, you cant come with us. NOT because you arent capable, youre plenty that, but youre a kid. So for once, be a kid." and stuff like that. I see Sam becoming more of a parental figure to her because of how he views his childhood compared to Dean. With Dean still in his "our childhood was pretty great, dad did his best" mentality, I see him slowly come to realize that giving a kid a GUN when they are scared of their closet was not a great choice.

Cas is there of course and Gabe comes back not long after faking his death in season 5 (I NEED MY SHIPS). The boys are able to get Sam back from Hell with the help of our fave archangel turned trickster.

The angels and demons are PISSED about their plans and figure that they need to separate this little found family. Dean and Cas are left alone at Bobby's to try and figure this all out and Gabriel is captured and taken to Asmodeus (I need his headquarters to be somewhere on earth with a connection to hell. this will make sense later). The angels take the kid and place her in a random ass town middle of no where and in the foster system, with only an Angel (im thinkin Anna cause canon does not exist here) keeping guard to make sure she cant leave and cant contact anyone.

Sam, cause hes sam and cant catch a break, goes on what he thinks is a normal salt-and-burn on his own but ends up being stopped by some supernatural being whenever he tries to go home. HE IS OUR ODYSSEUS. Lucifer is Posideon in this case, and wants him to feed into the "monster" within him so he'll say yes again and finally take over. Sam is constantly beat down, losing every person he comes into contact with on his journey, and becoming the "monster" or hunter in this case, that John was always trying to get him to be. He just wants to get home to his family.

The girl, on the other hand, is stuck with no way home and just wants to be with her family again. She wants to be just like Sam and Dean and decides so start doing research and helping out in this middle of no where town when crazy supernatural stuff does happen. She was raised by hunters and then our favorite boys after all so she has a good idea of what to do but cant actually ask anyone for help. SHE IS OUR TELEMACHUS.

They are all separated from each other for about 3 years.

She eventually finds that Anna has a bit of a soft spot left from when she used to be human and creates the opening to Asmodeus's for the kid to find. She stubbles in there and finds who? her basically step-dad, Gabriel! She steals him away and finds some of his grace to take back with her. He starts to get better but then the kid is taken. Gabriel is strong enough now to send a message to Cas. Anna thinks they all have been punished for too long.

Sam finally beats the shit outta lucifer and makes his way to bobby's just as Cas finds out that Gabriel and the kid are alive and in the same place. Our trio runs to this backwater town and heads down to Asmodeus's. The suitors are the Demons there and Sam is in a fuckin RAGE. They not only kidnapped and tortured his boyfriend for the last three years (much longer for Gabriel) but now they have his kid. Two of the people hes been fighting so hard to get back to. Sam (with help from Dean and Cas) fight off the demons and find the kid. On the way out they find Asmodeus and hes PISSED. At the last moment, Gabriel comes in full archangel and smites the bastard.

And of course we end on reunions all around (think "I cant help but wonder") and a supernatural rendition of "would you fall in love with me again" between Sam and Gabriel (cause HE IS OUR PENELOPE). Sam feels like hes changed, hes not the same person he was when he left. Hes done horrible things, killed so many creatures, allowed so many to die, just so he can go home. He wants to be with his family but knows that he might never be able to be Sam again. Gabriel has been under Asmodeus' watch for years, his grace diminished, waiting for someone to come and find him. He hoped it would be his family, his Sam. And now that he's got Sam back? Hes never letting go again. He'll fall in love with Sam over and over again because he may have changed but his soul didnt. And damn if Gabriel hadnt been waiting.

So thats my idea..........sorry this is long but anyone like?

[vampiricstoryteller]

Moonlight 🌙

Happy Friday everyone! I’m finally ready to present to y’all the first chapter of my new Richette series! Welcome to Moonlight!

Summary: Separated from the others, Richter and Annette must spend a night defending themselves from a demon that plays sinister mind games by turning dreams into nightmares.

All mistakes are my own 😊

read on A03 here

Warning: a few scary bits

Chapter one: Day Dreamer

Annette always found solace in her dreams. No matter what was happening in the real world, her dreams were an escape. She loved being able to dream.

When she’d been young, frightened and freshly taken from her mother; Annette forced herself into dreamland more often than she was awake. Even when her eyes were open, Annette’s mind was somewhere else far, far away.

Her brothers and sisters called her a Day Dreamer but Annette really wished she could pull a few of them inside of her mind and show them that to her, it was so much more than just dreaming.

It was survival.

It was paradise.

And Annette is sure it’s what’s kept her sane.

She could go anywhere and do anything in her dreams; fly across the ocean, run through never ending lavender fields, hold long conversations with tigers or fish, sit on a boulder at the very tip top of a mountain and breathe.

The possibilities were endless.

So Annette considers herself lucky that once she starts hunting vampires and night creatures, they don’t come for her dreams. Or maybe they can’t. She isn’t really sure, but every night when she lays down to sleep, after having sent dozens of the monsters back to their maker, she does her best to push all thoughts of the evilness surrounding her far out of her mind. Then she imagines walls standing themselves up around her dream world for protection.

And for a while it works.

Until she and Richter find themselves separated from the others, stranded, soaked to the bone from a fall into the river and now shivering while defending a weirdly abandoned and disarrayed cabin from a group of a low level but feral night creatures.

She is so so so tired.

Annette’s just finished barricading the front door with the boot bench she nearly tripped over upon entering. Tilted on its side and wedged underneath the door handle, she holds it steady and breathes through her nose as long heavy strips of magic she materialized secure the bench in place.

Behind her Richter stacks two chairs and a barely standing table horizontally over one of three windows. Outside eight night creatures scream and howl thunderously as they seem to chitter amongst themselves about how to get inside and attack.

She peeks at them through one of the bigger cracks in the door, watching them intently. They reminded her of Edouard, in a way. Their mannerism with each other less monster and more human though it was clear none of these ones could speak actual words.

Richter steps close behind her, “what’s happening out there?” He asks softly, one of his hands grips her bicep. “Annette?”

She shakes her head, leaning back against him and whispering. “They’re……talking with one another? I think trying to plan?”

Richter makes a face, squeezing her arm and he says, “I’ll go around back and surprise them, you stay here and cover those last two windows.”

Annette’s eyebrows drop into a hard frown but Richter shakes his head.

“We’ve got maybe thirty minutes before the sun is gone.” He tells her quickly, tugging her away from the door. “We’re going to have to sleep here. I need you to start reenforcing the foundation.”

She chews on her bottom lip, knowing he’s right and they have a better chance surviving til morning here than out in the woods trying to back track in the dark and find the others. She meets Richter’s gaze, nodding once and murmuring,

“Be careful, don’t let any of them escape.”

“I won’t.” Richter promises and squeezes her arm one last time before they part ways.

She watches him quietly sprint towards the back of the cabin, a smile gracing her lips when he remembers to pull the door shut behind him.

Annette tip toes over to the second window, picking up a dusty and dirty table cloth on her way which she uses to cover the window. Just as she begins stacking the last two chairs in they have in front of it, she hears Richter attack the night creatures outside.

She listens to his grunts of effort and the sound of his fists breaking the night creatures bones, chuckling at him clearly using the opportunity to warm up after their icy journey down however many miles the river carried them.

Placing her hands on the seats of the stacked chairs, Annette bites her lip and presses down with her magic. At her feet, the ground opens enough to grab hold of several inches of the chair legs; turning the unsteady barrier into something pillar like.

As she steps back, Annette’s arms begin to tingle with exhaustion; the palms of her hands hot like she’s unknowingly taken hold of hot coals.

She tries to ignore the feeling as a small dark fireplace off to her right catches her eye. All of the tools needed to stoke a fire, keep it going and put it out are untouched and remain neatly arranged on hooks. Upon closer inspection, Annette spots several half burnt pieces of logs in the pit and she wonders if whoever lived her was forced out much more recently than they’d realized.

A great thud shakes the cabin, nearly startling her out of her skin. Richter has sent a night creature hurtling into the wall and Annette can hear it choking on its own blood as she hurries over to the last window near the back door.

Looking around, Annette scrambles for a moment, everything is the house is either broken beyond repair or not remotely sturdy enough to bother put in the effort of securing it against the window as a guard.

She decided that a pile of bricks, strung haphazardly in a corner for whatever forgotten reason will have to do. They’re heavier than they should be in her hands and Annette wonders, as she meticulously builds them up on the ledge, whether or not she’ll end up in a exhausted dreamless pit when she’s finally able to close her eyes.

Outside there’s one final screech of shock from a night creature, followed by Richter’s deep growl of “shut the fuck up”, a sickening crunch and then silence.

Annette sways on her feet a bit, squinting at the bricks layering the window. Her attempt to root them in place is weak at best but it will have to do for now.

The tips of her fingers pulse in and out of numbness, making her flex the digits and clench her firsts several times over. She turns to face Richter when he comes through the back door, an exhausted smile on his face.

“Everything out there has been handled,” he says proudly. “I even had time to wipe our tracks all the way back to river, and!”

He shifts his body, revealing to her that he’s got two fish hanging off his thumb; he holds them up high and his grin practically splits his face in half.

“Look at you,” Annette murmurs wrapping her arms around herself. “Thinking ahead for once in your life.”

Richter’s eyes sweep over her entirely, “I figured we could use a bit of a reward for the day we’ve had.” He glances around the abandoned cabin. “Not sure how we’ll cook them though.”

Annette turns slightly and points towards the window she built the chair tower in front of. “There’s a small fireplace over there, we can make it work.”

Richter nods, his footsteps quiet as he hangs the fish on a left over meat hook that hangs in front of the chimney that may or may not be blocks. Annette can’t be bothered to worry about it right now, they’ll find out either way soon enough.

She closes her eyes for a moment, frowning at the unusual headache that has settled itself right behind her temples. Richter’s boots on the dirt floor alert her to the fact he’s returned to her side and when Annette blinks her eyes open blearily, she can see the concern radiating from him.

“Annette, are you okay?” He asks. “Did you get hurt?”

She shakes her head, “Just cold and tired, my head feels like I must of hit it on some rocks or something.”

Richter moves into her space immediately, bending his knees so he can lean close as he hovered around her head. “I don’t see any blood, do you want me to check?”

Annette chuckles and pats his shoulder, shaking her head. “I’m fine Richter, it’s just been a long day.” She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “What I do want though, is for you to start the fire and make us some fish.”

He blinks, meeting her eyes for a moment before nodding happily and clapping his hands together. “Right, fire, dinner. I can do that.”

Richter points towards the two windows she secured. “You did good, Annette. I’ll freeze the back door when I’m done with the wood.”

“Okay,” she nods, happy to have a plan. “I’ll look and see if there are any salvageable blankets or clothes.”

She can feel Richter’s eyes on her back as she turns, walking stiffly from the kitchen back into the sitting room; if the two rooms could even be seriously labeled as such. Annette ignores him but keeps her ears tuned to his footsteps while he collects tree branches in close proximity.

She takes her time rummaging through the ransacked mess thats strewn all over the place, picking through some strangers mess makes her feel overtly exposed and more than once she catches herself looking over her shoulder towards the barricaded door.

Shaking herself, Annette drapes a torn but thick blanket over her arm and even comes across a winter coat, though it’s missing the entire right sleeve. She’s also able to recover a pair of relatively clean socks and half of a bedroll.

Mumbling a quick prayer of thanks, she sets the clothing and blanket aside to focus on clearing space in front of the fire for them. She mostly just shoves everything towards the door until she’s shaking from effort and wobbly when standing straight.

She’s on the second to last pile when Richter’s rhythmic footsteps bring him inside and from the corner of her eye Annette watches him emerge with fire wood stacked in his arms to the point she almost can’t make out his face.

“This should be enough right?” He asks his boots thudding as he side steps over to the fireplace.

“More than enough Richter,” Annette chuckles. “Why did you get so much? We’ll only be here one night.”

He drops the wood at the mouth of the fireplace and crouches to be begin neatly lining it a long the wall. After the first few pieces, he turns his head towards her and says,

“You’ve been shaking since we got here. So, either you’re much colder than I am or you’re hurt and hiding it from me.” He offers her a easy smile when she bristles. “Either way we have to get you warm, so I’m going to keep the fire going all night.”

Annette shuffles her weight between her feet, letting her shoulders sag a bit. She should have known she wouldn’t be able to hide how much the days events had truly wiped her.

“I’m not hurt, not really.” She replies shrugging. “Probably be bruised up tomorrow and the day after but, I’m just tired, Richter.”

She pushes a few still damp locs out of her eyes. “I found a few things we can use to help stay warm.” Motioning to the pile she set aside, Annette tilts her head and theorizes aloud. “The blanket is big enough to share, it’s got a tear in it but it’s manable, and the coat will fit you. The bedroll will be a tight fit but the shared body heat is probably our best bet to not freeze.”

Richter nods, done stacking the wood in rows along the wall and immediately setting to work on getting the fire going. While he double checks the the opening of the chimney is clear; by tossing several chunks of ice up and cheering when they hear them rolling off the roof, Annette sets the bedroll on the flattest part of the ground that she can find, angling it so that they’ll face the fireplace and have a wall at their back for protection.

She has just settled on the ground and began unlacing her boots when the Richter claps in triumph and jumps to his feet happily. Turning to face her, he grins and motions down the pit of the fireplace, where a bright orange flame has rippled to life and grows steadily.

Annette claps for him, thoroughly amused by the way he keens under her praise.

He steps over to the bedroll, watching her tug off her boots and peel off her still soaked socks. She lays them out in front of the fire and wiggles her toes, happy to have her feet free from confinement.

“I figured we can lay our clothes out to dry while we slept.” Annette says lightly,

Richter looks down at himself the same time her eyes sweep over his figure. He discards his shirt first, both of them ignoring the blushes that break out over their faces, hanging it next to the fish he caught and shrugs on the winter coat Annette points him towards.

With his back to her, Annette wiggles out of her damp pants; begrudging the fact that her now loose shirt, sort of dry undergarments and the socks she’d salvaged would have to serve as sleeping clothes for the night.

She spreads the slightly torn blanket over her lap, pleased when it cascades out across the ground like an ocean. Richter’s boots hitting the ground with a jumbled thud brings Annette’s attention back to him.

He’s moved back over to the fireplace, poking at some of the logs to give them pockets of air. His socks and shoes are gone, his pant legs rolled up to his knees and the coat Annette found for him is draped over his shoulders like a cape.

Annette wants to be annoyed at herself for how much she’s staring at his bare chest but if she tries to have more than one or two complex thoughts the ache behind her temples starts up again.

She’ll scold herself tomorrow after she’s had a nice long visit to somewhere peaceful in her dreams.

They stay in comfortable silence while Richter guts and cleans the fish, throwing the unnecessary parts into the center of the fire; giving the cabin a strange fish like aroma and Annette huddles under the blanket, her knees drawn up to her chest as she tries to focus on warming up.

She still can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching them and her eyes dart from window to window while she rubs rhythmically at her shins. It’s not until Richter hands her a broken plate with slightly charred meat on it that Annette is able to pull her gaze back to the fire and man in front of her.

“Where’d you go?” Richter asks softly as he sits next to her on the bedroll.

Throwing him a confused look, Annette gathers a bit of fish between her fingers and scoops it into her mouth.

“I’m right here, Richter.” She says around the mouthful.

He chuckles, fingers scraping at his own food. “You’re here physically yes but there’s such a far away look in your eye.” He pauses, seeming to search for the right words. “Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

Annette shakes her head, lowering her plate into her lap.

“Today has just been…..off…” she glances at the closest window again. “Us being separated from the group, being pushed into the river, the strange night creatures and now……”

Richter reaches over, placing one of his hands on top of hers; his is massive compared to hers but Annette sighs contently at the feeling.

“I have this unsettling feeling that we are being watched, by something that we cannot see.” She whispers, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

She’s not scared, she knows she’s not; so why is her body acting this way?

Richter squeezes her hand and when they meet eyes he nods slowly.

“I feel it too.” He murmurs.

Annette’s eyes widen and she scoots closer to Richter even though there’s only inches between them to start.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He explains. “I’ve searched and looked everywhere but we’re here alone,”

“And yet……” she trails off.

“It hasn’t tried to harm us yet, maybe it’s simply curious.” Richter shrugs. “Let’s just finish eating and try to sleep, we can leave at first light.”

Annette nods, shivering when he pulls his hand away to return eating. She does the same, her fingers still dipping in and out of numbness as she tries to focus on only the food in front of her and not the feeling of dread that’s curling in her stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It doesn’t take long for them to figure out a sleeping arrangement that will keep them close, warm and comfortable. Well, it doesn’t take long but it does take a lot of shuffling, blushing and slotting their bodies together while they lay on their sides on the shredded bedroll.

Annette protests at Richter’s insistence that she have the blanket and she tries to ignore the way his ears turn red when he finally noticed that her legs are bare.

“You’re being ridiculous, Richter.” She sighs in exasperation. “The blanket is big enough for the both of us, and that coat is missing a sleeve it’s not enough to keep you warm.”

She opens the blanket to him, pleased when it seems he’s going to scoot closer and she fluffs the fabric a bit then tosses it over him. But the Belmont surprises her by shifting onto his back, putting his arm around her and tucking her practically on top of him.

“Richter!” Annette hisses, her face warming when she looks up at him and realizes their faces are closer than they’ve probably ever been.

He only grins in response, the coat draped over his shoulder thats out in the open while he curls one arm around Annette’s lower back. His hand coming to rest lightly on her hip.

“You need me to have some of the blanket, I need you to have some of my body heat.” He says casually, adjusting the blanket where he thinks it’s needed. “We both get what we want this way.”

Annette rolls her eyes fondly, “I hardly think today was anything like what either of us want.”

She rests her head on his chest slowly, her ear over his heart and the steady thump of the organ is the first real comfort she’s had all day.

Annette lets out a breath, her body relaxing against Richter as she exhales deeply and closes her eyes. Richter squeezes her hip, his voice low when he speaks,

“Annette, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

She keeps her eyes closed, forcing herself to breathe evenly.

“Yes, I know.” She whispers, her fingers press into his side and find the spaces between his ribs. “Tomorrow will be better Richter, I just need to rest.”

Annette’s not completely sure if he responds or not, because her mind is finally descending towards sleep and that’s all she has wanted since breakfast. She leans into the darkness, knowing her dreams are just on the other side of unconsciousness and that Richter is there in reality to protect her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richter keeps his grip on Annette tight as he feels her drop off into sleep. She needs it. She deserves it. And Richter finds that more and more every day, he is willing to do anything to make sure Annette gets everything good she deserves.

She’s not wrong that the entire day had been off. There’d been a change in the air, a scent that lingered under his nose all day, a shadow that followed behind them just far enough to be dismissed as a trick of the light.

Something was stalking them.

Hunting Annette.

Richter could tell she was the target by how quickly the day drained her, how far away her mind retreated when her body sensed she had become someone’s prey.

And Richter feared that whatever it was had intentionally set its sight upon Annette, purposely separated them from the others and now had something sinister planned. It wanted them isolated. It wanted Annette alone and vulnerable.

He had to figure out why, he had to figure out how to kill it because even as she sleeps in his arms hidden away by the blanket and him; Annette still shakes. She’s afraid, subconsciously, which makes it all the worse.

It’s like she knows something means to take her from him. Like she’s preparing for it.

Which is why Richter vows to himself, as he lays on the ground holding the small Haitian to his chest; and from the corner of his eye watching the dark figure that stands statue still out the window he barricaded,

‘No one is going to take you from me, Annette.’ He promises, bringing one hand up to hide her face away with the blanket. ‘I’ll kill God himself before I let you go.’

To Be Continued……..

Chapter 2 will be out tomorrow around this time 🤟🏾

[scarlette-foxx]

Crossover Danuary Week 2025 Day 1- Podcasts

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62536915

A normal day in Night Vale :)

In a world unseen, what is unseen is known. In a unknown world, what is unknown is seen.

Welcome To Nightvale.

There have been reports of a green glowing ooze peeking through the fence of The Dog Park.

“At first I thought this was one of the many visits from our friend, the schmooze,” says John Peter, the farmer, “But I soon realized that this was not the case when it burned my hand.”

After investigating the borders of The Dog Park, I, too, found that the substance burned my hand! It still kind of hurts.. The shadowy hooded figures surrounding The Dog Park didn't even bother with sending the Sheriff's Secret Police after me as they seemed to be busy taking samples of the substance and pushing it back inside the border of the park.

As a Night Vale resident since my youth, I still remember what my Boy Scouts of America handbook says about evil oozes.

“Leave these things alone. It will probably not devour all that you love, so don't bother it. Focus instead on gaining your blood pact scout certification, and you may not even miss the devoured people!”

And so, Night Vale, following the advice I returned to the station, where I found a very interesting surprise.

Khoshekh seems to have made a friend! It is a small green puppy who is also floating about four feet above the sink in the men's bathroom. I'm so glad that Khoshekh has seemed to find a companion in these tough, slime-filled times. We can all take a page from-

Oh. Oh it seems, listeners, that the puppy is not confined to the space four feet above the sink. Hello, little green dog. What are you up to?

[Barking yap noises]

Oh, that's not a toy little guy, can you drop that chord? I need it to broadcast-

[The voice goes a little quieter, as if walking away from the microphone]

Hey. You need to drop that. NO! THIS IS NOT TUG OF WAR!

[A growling is heard]

Uh.. listeners.. I seem to be in a bit of a situation. This puppy has grown in size so large that he almost doesn't even fit in the recording room anymore.

…Good doggie?

It seems while I take care of this, I'll have to take you all now, To The Weather.

[https://youtu.be/GLi1tlCOwzM?si=uKQo-H3N1AZqw3wa]

Welcome back, listeners. While you were listening to the weather, it seems the puppy's owner heard my broadcast and came to the radio station to retrieve his dog.

It was much of a relief, listeners, as the puppy was able to shrink back down to a more manageable size once the owner was in control.

The owner said something about going to the dog park, but despite my insistence that the dog park was neither for dogs, nor actually a park, he still seemed determined to travel there. Hopefully the evil ooze will distract the shadowy figures long enough for the owner to realize that the dog park is not a place he wishes to be.

Speaking of which, Intern Mike has gone out to investigate The Dog Park's mysterious evil ooze as well. He has stated that it does not taste good in a drink and it cannot help destroy the doors that keep appearing randomly despite its acidic properties. He will soon return to gather more of this bright green, glowing ooze.

It seems Intern Mike wishes to step into my dear Carlos's realm of science. Foolish Mike, we all know that scientists can only be born, not made.

And now, traffic.

In an instant your whole world is dark. The fiery burn spreads through your hand, your heart, your soul. Like liquid magma it burrows into your muscles, your bones. In an instant your whole world is bright. You scream in agony but no one hears for your vocal chords dont even exist. In an instant, you are forever changed.

This has been traffic.

An update from intern Mike, who says that the green ooze is retreating from The Dog Park. The ooze had begun to boil and rise, before surrounding all the people surrounding The Dog Park, both Night Vale citizens and hooded figures alike, before swallowing them all and disappearing, including intern Mike, leaving only the voicemail intended for me as a last whisper into the cosmos.

Ah, yes, to all the friends and family of intern Mike, we leave our solemn wishes to you and yours for your loss.

Anyways, with the glowing ooze gone now, we may never know what its true purpose was. I apologize for earlier assuming its intent to be evil. Perhaps it had been friendly. Did we scare it off?

Stay tuned for introspection of the universe and an interview with our friend the schmooze.

Goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight.

[runawaymarbles]

The thing I keep coming back to, with all the *gestures expansively* is that real life doesn't have peaceful epilogues.

Every single win has to be defended. Forever. I'm sorry. It sucks. The Nazis lost until they stopped losing. The US had abortion rights, and then 50 years later it didn't. Empires fall, and then they invade other countries again. Oppressive regimes are overthrown and replaced with other oppressive regimes. You will never finish the work etc etc etc. Which is why it's so fucking important to be able to acknowledge and celebrate progress, when it happens. The people who came before you didn't put in all that work for nothing, and you aren't, either. You can't save it all for the Ultimate Victory because there is never going to be an Ultimate Victory. There's no such thing as a time when everything is good, and ours shall not be the commune of Heaven.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The fans: Ugh Sonic was just so preachy. I mean obviously he's supposed to be the good guy, so any uncomfortableness I feel here and any way I feel like Sonic's choices are framed as being why some other people have shitty lives is just bad writing because he is obviously supposed to be right always, but this characterization makes no sense. Isn't he right for the things he did?

Ian Flynn, using Kitsunami to say the (barely even at this point) quiet part even louder: Hey it's almost like ever since the Mr. Tinker event we've been purposely running with the critique of Sonic as being more selfish than he appears. Sonic is upholding a system of Eggman v Sonic that currently benefits him and shuts down talk of how to improve the current system because he likes his own personal enjoyment and he's attached enough to Eggman that he'd rather Eggman pretend to be a good person than be stuck in prison for life. He doesn't even quite practice what he preaches. We are trying to show that the current hero v villain system and Sonic's recklessness currently affects some people poorly and that Sonic isn't a perfect hero.

[tkbrokkoli]

:O

[edwinisms]

op this is how you make a lich. what have you done

This may be too supernatural for an actually pretty down to earth show that is dbda (when it comes to magic, abilities and power scaling), but I'd have a blast seeing the plot point of Edwin's soul's capability to be used for obtaining magical power make a comeback

What would be even cooler is if it was Edwin himself who became interested in using that power

I can see him researching what devices can be used for it, do they have to always inflict pain on him to work and if yes, then how far is he willing to go in order to get it

He'd never use it for any malicious purposes or to just possess power for power's sake, he'd use it in extremely dire situations, when he really needs a certain spell to be amplified in order to rescue Charles from danger

Which brings me to the obvious angst potential of Edwin hiding the pain, lying about the source of the amazing power and then ofc Charles finding out and oh

(It'd introduce more magic and actual combat power for the boys - which is actually the opposite of what the show is about, I know, aside from a wild use of Crystal's vast abilities, they really make a good job at showing that the boys were just normal humans (and now ghosts) who predominantly use their wits and knowledge gathered throughout the many years of being on Earth, so I wouldn't even expect them to go this direction (if they actually mention Edwin's soul's power ever again), but it's just a very fun concept to me)

[mrsbarnesblog]

just us

masterlist

summary: a situation between pogues and kooks at the beach made Rafe rethink his priorities

word count: 1.8k.

warnings: season 4 spoilers, established relationship, mention of the dead turtle, that hoe Ruthie, protective Rafe

a/n: i'm obsessed with season 4, y'all. absolutely in love with everything that's going on and especially with Rafe being in a better place with a girl that he actually likes 🥹 this scene at the beach with turtles just made me sob, so I really need someone to drag that bitch by her hair. sorry not sorry.

Your heart was beating with adrenaline from the scene that just happened at the beach, with Topper’s girlfriend almost running over the pogues and being the usual insane bitch that she was. Rafe stood beside you, silent but shaking his buzzed head in disapproval.

Kie was standing on her knees on the sand, in shock, with juice still dripping down her face and hair. She brushed off the help of her friends, instead standing and picking something up from the ground, without hesitation, going towards the group of people around you. They seemed absolutely delighted by the whole situation, laughing, fist bumping each other, and making you want to punch every single one of them in the face. 

You didn’t even want to be here in the first place, not with a bunch of people with whom you shared mutual hatred towards each other. Rafe was your only connection with them, and it seemed like even for him it was a bit too much. A fun day at a beach with a little surfing competition, where even Topper and JJ seemed to have some fun together, took the wrong turn way too quickly.

“Look what you did! Is this okay?” Kie stopped in front of Ruthie, reaching out her hand to show something that you weren’t able to see, but by the look on her face it was obviously serious to her. “There was a turtle hatch, you idiots! You drove right over it!” Your stomach twisted at the realization, and you took a step closer to see it yourself. 

“Oh my God.” You whispered, catching a glimpse of a tiny dead turtle with a crushed shell laying in the palm of her hand. So little and harmless that the picture of it brought tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t look, baby.” Rafe’s deep voice mumbled near your ear, with a warm hand sprawled across your back to try to distract you, but you shook your head, unable to take your eyes off it. 

“All right, but it was only one.” Ruthie said with her usual attitude, nonchalantly pointing to the rest of the turtles that, luckily, were perfectly fine. Your mouth opened in disbelief, and you looked at Rafe to see him uncomfortably rubbing the back of his head. 

“I’m so sorry, Kie…” You whispered to her, stepping further away from the kooks, eyes drifting again to the dead animal in her hand. No matter how hard you tried to fit in with Rafe and his friends, you could never be one of them if it meant to be a bunch of pompous and cruel rich kids. You thought that, maybe it was time for you to finally admit that. 

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” She briefly looked at you, because despite not being friends, there never were any arguments between you and the rest of the pogues, always keeping cool and friendly with each other. “There’s something wrong with you, people.” Kiara looked back at the kooks with disgust written all over her face. 

“I’m leaving, Rafe.” Barely holding back your tears, you looked back at your boyfriend, before picking up your beach bag from the sand and turning around. “I’m sorry again for them, Kie.”

“No, wait, Y/N.” He pushed through the crowd, wide-eyed, quickly approaching you and grasping your wrist. “This is not—“

“I don’t want to be here. I didn’t sign up to hang out with your friends when I started dating you, okay?” You groaned in frustration, attempting to move, but Rafe stopped you. “I don’t even know why we’re here, why you are here, when you clearly don’t enjoy it anymore.” 

“Listen, this is not so easy, okay?” He rolled his eyes, but you knew it was not fully directed at you; Rafe was already struggling with trusting those around him, and the fact that you slowly but steadily made him reconsider his current surroundings did not help. 

“You are not like them, they are not your friends, don’t you understand it?” The pure desperation was speaking in you, searching for the answers in his eyes. You overheard some people laughing at you, as they were too confident that Rafe would never listen to someone like you, someone from the cut, not even realizing the war that was currently going on in his head. 

He was silent, thinking, making his already overwhelmed mind go hundred miles per hour to figure something out, because you were right. The more time had passed, the more the two of you were together, the less Rafe found himself enjoying the presence of his old friends, the less he wanted to do that childish bullshit. 

“This dumb fucking bitch almost ran over people and killed an innocent animal because her big ego got hurt, do you understand?! So I’m leaving. Alone or with you.” You almost whispered the last part to him, too scared that he'd not choose you. At the end of the day, you were a pogue, and no matter how much you tried, you would never be good enough for Rafe. 

“What did you just call me?” Ruthie arched a brow, now shooting daggers at you. 

“I called you a dumb fucking bitch, didn’t you hear me?” You spat, finally having a good enough reason to tell the truth right in her face. “Or are you too stupid to get that through your thick scull?” 

“That’s rich, coming for a pogue. It’s just a cycle of life. And if you, losers, are so offended by that, it’s not my problem.” 

“A cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck is not a cycle of life.” Kiara pushed Ruthie with her hand, and it nearly turned into a fight, with JJ standing by his girlfriend's side. You turned away from them, too frustrated and drained to bother listening to the rest of the conversation, your gaze shifting to Rafe, who still held your hand.

“I want to leave. Stay here if you want to, I don’t care. I’m done with them, Rafe.” Your teary eyes met his blue ones, and he shook his head, pulling you closer with your forearms. The mere thought of you leaving him, angry and upset, triggered a whirlwind of panic within him.

“Hey, no, I’m not staying, okay?” Rafe's hands, now much gentler and delicate, touched your cheeks, wiping away a few tears that you could not keep back. Rafe had never been too comfortable with the display of emotions, and he was pretty sure that it was the first time he had actually seen you cry. And he knew how much you had always carried for animals, how you petted every stray cat or a dog on the street, and how you hated any form of violence against them. 

The pulsating and aching feeling in his chest at the sight of your tears made him want to drop everything, or rather, eliminate everyone who had upset you, and just hold you in his arms. 

“Aw, look at you.” You heard that annoying voice behind you back again, pulling you out of the bubble in which you fell, and turning around, you saw that Kie and JJ were no longer there. Your eyes instantly rolled back as Ruthie looked at you with her usual fake sympathy, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go back to your side of the island, you’re not one of us. Don’t even know why Rafe bothers to bring you here when you’re just another dirty toy to—“

Rafe left your side before she could finish her sentence, looming over her with the most furious expression you had ever seen on his face. Everyone and everything seemed to fall silent for a moment, and you held your breath, unsure what he would do. “Wanna say some bullshit about her? Try to do it right in my face and see what happens.”

“You’re not seriously protecting the pogue. She’s not on our side.” Her smile faded, her eyes now nervously looking between Rafe and Topper, who was standing behind her back. 

“C’mon, Rafe…” He started, but quickly shut his mouth as soon as Rafe turned his head towards him with a silent threat. You felt your heartbeat quickening as the atmosphere started to get even more intense. Everyone around you also started arguing and saying God knows what, but Rafe was awfully calm, and it frightened you even more. 

You moved closer to them as you made your way through the warm sand, until you were able to place a comforting hand on your boyfriend's back. He was so tense under your touch that it amazed you how the hell he was not shaking because of it. The only times you had ever seen him behaving that way was when people whispered something about his father behind his back.

“It’s okay, Ray.” You whispered, kissing his shoulder and sliding your hand down his back to take a hold of his bicep. 

“You’re lucky that I don’t hit women. But if I hear a single word about my girlfriend again, you will regret it, I promise you." Your stomach flattered from the way he protected you, from the way his friends opened their mouths in shock at his words. Even Topper and Kelce were too stunned to speak, sending each other weird glances. “Control, your crazy bitch, Top.” 

As if nothing had happened, Rafe stepped back, throwing a protective hand over your shoulders and guiding you away from the group. He was silent for a whole walk towards his truck, only stopping near the passenger door and turning you to face him. 

His worried blue eyes were almost shining under the bright and hot sun and you saw words forming in his head and sitting at the tip of his tongue. You waited another minute, while Rafe was focused on your necklace, thinking. His hands found a place on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin, until he finally took a deep breath and looked up. 

“You’re right.” He said simply. “I’m not this person anymore. That shit with racing with pogues was fun and all, but I didn’t like what happened today.” You half smiled, nodding and encouraging him to talk. “If—if I want to be like my dad, I need to have my priorities straight. No more of this bullshit, no more fake ass people, yeah? You’re the only one who's been here for me for a long fucking time. You’re the only one who I can trust, baby.”

His hand cupped your cheek, eyes focused solemnly on you, before he lowered himself closer to you to place a kiss on your lips. 

“This is the right decision. You’ve overgrown them, you’re a better man now. And i’ll be here for you whenever you need me, I promise. I guess it’s just us now." Your body sagged against his, too wrapped in the comfort of his presence to even care about anything else. Your lips brushed against his, making Rafe groan.

“Just us, baby.”