#anyway if you haven't seen this yet then let this be a sign. you're missing out

[wait-this-isnt-itunes]

Louis de Pointe Du Lac - a playlist

Features: DAUGHTER - Beyoncé // Bloodsport '15 - Raleigh Ritchie // NFWMB - Hozier // Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood - Nina Simone // A Dangerous Thing - AURORA // Time Is On My Side - Irma Thomas // Hard Out Here. - RAYE // Hell Is Near - St. Vincent // Crude Drawing Of An Angel - Caroline Polachek // Never Be Mine - Kate Bush // Breezeblocks - alt-J // What Kind Of Man - Florence + The Machine // Deadly Valentine - Charlotte Gainsbourg // + more

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Devout

Guardian Angel alternative POV, or Jason Todd is the Arkham Knight, and he can't stop himself from watching you, from clawing his way into the cracks of your life in a twisted, mangled mirror of what he used to be ~3.5k words

CW: Jason commits a few murders, some gore, stalking, some religious imagery for fun

Jason Todd shouldn't be watching you. He knows it's wrong, knows he shouldn't be perched on the shadowy rooftop across from your apartment building, staring intently into your windows.

He knows. He knows. But he's doing it anyway– been doing it for weeks.

You haven't noticed once, so wrapped up in your own life, your peace of mind that no one would break the sanctity of your own home that you don't even consider closing your blinds.

He thinks you should know better. Gotham is tainted– he is tainted– yet you never spare a glance over your shoulder when he follows you down the street, never linger on that sixth sense that screams that you're being watched.

You pick up on his presence on the rare occasion, he thinks. The days you walk home quicker or the nights you actually slam your blinds shut makes him wonder if you do know you're being watched. But then you go back to normal, brush off every sign and every lingering feeling that something isn't right.

It almost makes him angry, sometimes, that you'd be so careless with your safety. But everything makes him angry now. It's a constant, tight grasp in his chest, the righteous fury he has against the world, against the city and its filth, against Batman.

The anger makes him reckless, or maybe he's just cocky. Maybe he wants you to know he's there. Jason doesn't let himself wonder why he does it. He might just be a masochist. He might just miss you. But he opens the faulty window to your living room that he knows squeaks and never quite locks right.

The first time he breaks into– visits your apartment while you're asleep, he doesn't touch a thing. He just takes in everything that's you, cleanses his fractured soul in the space he used to know like the back of his hand. The trinkets that sit on your counters. The paintings on the wall. The color of the blankets thrown over your couch.

He doesn't touch anything the second time, either. Or the third. The fourth time, though, he picks over the photos you keep on your shelves, the books you leave lying around. He moves them, just slightly. Just to see if you'll notice.

You don't. Not really. Not until the eighth time. He doesn't know why he does this either. He just does. He picks up your keys from where you usually keep them and moves them. It's something you can't deny. Something tangible and real and clear, an unyielding truth. He was here. He exists, and he can affect your life, change it with his hands.

(It's the first time he feels like he's truly alive since the asylum, the first time there's more than just revenge and watching you from afar, even if he feels like he's corrupting something that's only meant to be seen and not touched by impure, broken hands)

If your keys being displaced affects you, well, you don't show it for more than a few moments. And that bothers him. You might not know he's here– alive– and maybe he's not ready for you to, but he's still a part of your life, isn't he?

So he gets bolder. He doesn't want to scare you, not really. But he can't help but dig his nails into the parts of your life he can change. It starts simple, innocent. You were annoyed when you left your kitchen, out of sugar, just another thing on top of everything else you have to deal with.

And he wanted to help. Like he used to. It was easy to get a bag of sugar, even easier to sneak into your kitchen. He leaves just enough for a few days, just enough to get you through the week, enough that you'll think you misremembered how much was left.

And he should have left it at that. But he's never been good at doing things halfway, especially when it comes to you. So he fixes your apartment up while you're at work. Makes sure your window doesn't squeak, your shower doesn't rattle, your oven actually heats up. All things he's heard you try to get your landlord to fix.

He makes a note to give your landlord a visit as he's looping the footage in your cameras over, effectively erasing any evidence of who he is.

Honestly, he's proud of you for finally doing something about him, it's just a shame he has the skills to outmatch your attempts to figure out his identity. Not that any pictures of him would do any good. He's still nameless in Gotham as the Arkham Knight, and if he's not wearing a mask while he's easily picking the new lock on your apartment window, his hood and ballcap do the job of hiding his face just as well.

He thinks he could let it go on like this forever, just doing things for you in the shadows, never revealing himself. At least until he's routinely following you home from work one night, and he sees you get tugged into a dark, lonely alley. He recognizes the man that hauls you off the faux safety of the streets, the one that's lifting a shaky hand and a gun to wave it, demanding your possessions.

Murphy is a nobody in Gotham, just another gambling addicted alcoholic that takes work from whatever rouge is paying the most that week. Jason more or less only recognizes him because he lives on the third floor of your apartment building, but it's clear you don't know who the man snatching your things is.

The Arkham Knight resigns himself to stealing your wallet and phone back after you've gotten home, to keep himself out of your sights for as long as he can. That was the plan.

But there's a flicker in Murphy's eyes, a consideration– a passing thought that Jason can't ignore, one he's seen a million times. Maybe it's the idea that he could get more from you, or maybe he's realizing you've seen his face and wants to get rid of any witnesses, whatever it is, Jason isn't going to let it happen.

The Arkham Knight doesn't hesitate to drop himself between you and the gun. He breaks Murphy's arm without even thinking about it, effectively disarming him as he kicks the gun away from him. The sound of his bones breaking is loud, but Jason doesn't register it as something to be sickened by until he turns and sees the nausea and horror written plainly on your face.

Honestly, maybe he should be more disgusted with himself. He's just sent a man into shock, revealed himself to you in a way that's not at all comforting. But he doesn't care. No one was going to save you. No one but him. He protected you, and it's not like Bruce Batman– it's not like broken bones are uncommon in Gotham.

You take a step back. He steps towards you, drawn to you. He can't help it. He shouldn't. But his head is spinning, and he hasn't been this close to you since before the asylum. You look tired, older, but no less beautiful than he remembers.

"Who are you? What do you want," You snap at him.

Jason wants to praise you for your bravery, as fake as it is. It's a good tactic, to try and get him talking. He doesn't understand why you look so uneasy of him, though. He got you out of a bad situation, even if he's wearing military-grade armor and a mask that glows in the darkness of the alley, shouldn't you feel grateful? Safe? Happy?

He tilts his head, trying to read you. Would you feel better if he offered to walk you home? "I saved you," he tries, the modulator making his voice sound flatter than he intends to. The Arkham Knight silently curses himself. He should just leave. Should have shot your attacker from the roof without you ever seeing him. He's being emotional now, irrational under your gaze.

"You've been following me. You're the one who's been in my apartment," you accuse, eyes darting like you're trying to find an escape in the dead end alley.

He stiffens. Huh. Clever thing. You've always been too smart for your own good. A part of him wants to deny it, pretend he's just some passing good doer in a mask, pretend that he's some kind of knight, an angel here to shield you from harm.

The notion almost makes him laugh, "Have I," he prompts instead with all the air nonchalance. He wonders if you'll drop it then, actually thank him for stepping in and helping you. You don't.

"Yes," You say instead, voice low like it's a secret– a confession, "You have."

Jason finds himself impressed at your stubbornness, if not a little unnerved by your recklessness in confronting the supposed stranger you believe is breaking into your home alone. He has to give you credit for piecing it together, but who else, if not a freak in body armor, would be letting themselves into your apartment without a word just to fix what's broken?

He nods, unsure of what to do. You weren't supposed to figure it out, but you have. And now there's consequences.

The Arkham Knight turns his back to you, making a show of gathering your phone and wallet before standing and facing you again. He walks closer to you, each step measured and calculated. He holds your belongings out to you, a twisted, mirrored version of some kind of sacred offering.

He studies you as you grab at them, trying to tug them from his unyielding grip. There's bags under your eyes. He can practically see your pulse jumping under your skin.

You're less than a foot away, and Jason basks in that distance, how light he feels now that you're only an arm's reach away. He could brush his knuckles over your cheek, dip his head to take in the scent of your hair, kiss the hollow of your throat the same way he used to.

He does none of those things. Because you don't see Jason Todd. You only see a threat, a monster, some kind of demon that clawed their way out of the shadows and cracks that litter Gothams hallowed corners.

He cocks his head, letting go of your wallet and phone while greedily drinking down the color of your eyes in the dim light of the alley, "And if I have?"

"I'll go to the police," You tell him, defensive, and he wants to laugh as you shove your wallet and phone back into your pocket.

"They can't help you," he grits out, and it's the truth. No one knows who he is yet, what his plans are. Even if you told someone, whatever description you give won't be enough to find him.

"They can contact Batman," you bite out, and that does earn you a laugh. You really think Bruce can do anything? That Batman has any chance of standing between him and you? Batman couldn't even find– couldn't even save–

"He can't help you either," The Arkham Knight tells you. He gives into his desire to touch you then, partly in anger that you still believe in Batman and partly because he just misses you. He pats your cheek, but doesn't let himself linger. "Get home," is all he says before he grapples into the night.

He follows you back to your apartment from the rooftops and notes how you avoid getting too close to any more alleys. But, it's not until you're safe in your bed that he goes looking for Murphy– that he goes to finish the job.

The creep's nursing his broken arm in his dingy apartment when The Arkham Knight gets to him. He doesn't make it quick, but it is quiet. (It's difficult to scream when you're choking on your own severed tongue, after all) He brings down fire and fury and vengeance for daring to lay a hand on you and leaves nothing behind but a corpse.

Murphy's brutal death is swept under the rug by the GCPD, which Jason shouldn't be surprised by. Just another mob death, the tiny obituary in the paper reports. You don't even register the death in your apartment building. He doesn't blame you for that. Not when he knows he's scaring you.

He's getting careless, sloppy. He wants you to catch glimpses of him now, he wants you to know he's watching. It's sick. He knows that, knows it so well that it claws in the back of his throat when he breaks into your apartment to fix your fan.

He's guilty about it, sometimes. It's a pressing weight on his shoulder even when he's trying to help. So, he redoubles his efforts.

He sneaks into your room and stuffs six hundred dollars into the emergency fund you keep under your bed. He sends you flowers, fills your gas tank, finally visits your landlord, and pays off your rent for the next six months. (He's already bought you a better, newer apartment, he just hasn't figured out how to tell you that)

He knows it's all wrong, but sometimes, he doesn't feel guilty at all. He wants to do things for you, that's not a lie. He wants to do everything and anything you could ever want or ask for.

He starts letting you catch flashes of him outside your window, moves your things around just out of the sheer curiosity of what you'll do. He can't justify that, because it does nothing to protect you. But he does it anyway. The Arkham Knight needs you to know he holds a spot in your life, even if it's not as Jason Todd anymore.

He's getting bolder, much too comfortable. There's times you almost walk into your apartment as he's leaving gifts on your counter, times when you wake up and walk into your kitchen just seconds after he forces himself out your window.

He's going to get caught if it keeps going on like this. But he can't bring himself to worry or care. His plans are coming together, and while he doesn't exactly know where you fit into them yet, he knows he doesn't trust anything or anyone enough to leave you to your own devices once he unleashes his legions upon Gotham and her failure of a saviour.

He never seems to do the right thing when it comes to you, at least not since he came back. But saving you– guarding you against the vile filth of the world– that can't be wrong. He'd do anything to keep you as you are, untouched by all the cruelties Gotham has to offer. It's an unwavering, righteous mission he has commanded unto himself.

It's why he reacts the way he does when three men break into your apartment.

He was late. He always seems to be late when you're involved. He had just finished overseeing the arrival of tanks and men into Miagani Tunnel, just dragged himself halfway across the city for the slightest chance to catch a glimpse of you in your apartment, when he catches sight of it.

Your window– open. You never keep it open. Dread washes down his spine, and when he gets close enough to see the man pointing a gun towards the floor– towards you– he just reacts.

He shuts down, becomes nothing but instinct, and he brings hell on to Earth in your name.

He's clinical. He doesn't hesitate to shoot the man aiming a gun to your head through his temple. If the man were alone, he would have shot the gun out of his hand, but there's two other targets, and he needs to eliminate any threats to your life first.

He climbs through your window with the ease of a man who's done it hundreds– thousands of times. You haven't moved to get up. It concerns him, but he's angry right now, so, so angry he doesn't even consider ending this quickly.

Everyone tries to take something from him. He keeps losing. If he didn't come to watch– see you tonight, he would have lost you too. The very thought makes his vision blur red, his ears ring.

It's not a fight, what happens next. It's a death penalty. The Arkham Knight is a weapon, and he proves it with each hit. He's efficient, brutal, and purposeful with each movement. He doesn't flinch at the blood that splatters on his armor, doesn't stop even when fluids and flesh start to stick to the knuckles of his gloves.

He doesn't stop, doesn't slow, until the only hearts left beating in your desecrated apartment are his and yours.

Then, and only then, does the blood pounding through his veins start to cool. It's only then, does he turn to look at you. He expects to meet your terrified gaze, but you haven't moved, still laying on the floor. It makes his heart clench. What's wrong with him? He just– while you–

He shakes his head, slowly tugging his gloves off and stuffing them into his belt. He walks over to you, kneels carefully to your side, and watches you breathe. He matches the slow rhythm of your shoulders rising and falling, and then he helps you sit up.

You're responsive to that, at least. The Arkham Knight presses his hands to your face, waiting for something. He doesn't know what, just anything. Some kind of sign. A message of what he's supposed to do. How he can make this all better.

When you finally open your eyes, they're hazy, not quite reactive. It makes him angry all over again. You got hurt. He wasn't here.

"Saved me again," you murmur, and his throat tightens. He failed you. Yet here you are, spouting words that make it sound like he's done something good.

He runs his thumb over your cheek, savoring the feel of your skin, soothing himself and you as he reassures himself that you're still here– still alive. But you aren't safe.

It's all he can think about. He saved you, but how long until you're in danger again? What if he's not quick enough this time? What if he's not there? What if– what if– haunts him. It weighs heavier than the nightmares that plague him when he finally has to succumb to sleep.

He makes the decision then and there to take you away from here, away from the rot and the fester to some place where it can never touch you again.

He picks you up, cradles you to his chest like you're made of shattered, stained glass and tarnishing silver, but nonetheless precious. You're talking, and he's answering, but he hardly registers what either of you are saying. His mind is working over plans, where he's going to take you, the guards he'll need to recruit to watch over you when he can't, which ones he trusts the most.

Jason only tunes back in when you point out that he could hurt you. It's funny, in a way. After everything he used to be to you, after everything he's done for you, he could still hurt you. He tips his head down to really look at you, the cloudy, exhausted look on your face, the heaviness of your eyes as you struggle to keep watching him.

He can't find it in himself to lie, so, he tells you, maybe he could hurt you. He tells you that he wouldn't like it. (And it's the truth)

Maybe you recognize that, because you drop your head to his shoulder and let your eyes fall shut. The Arkham Knight never wavers in his steps, mapping the path to the apartment he'd purchased in your name in his head. It's not perfect, not filled with everything you deserve quite yet, but it'll do the job for now.

Something in him simultaneously softens and hardens when your breathing goes even and slow against him, and he curls his fingers tighter into your skin. You're weak. Weaker than him. Too naive and too soft for what's going to come.

There's no other fate for you than this now. He'll have to take care of you, protect you from it all, from all the evil that festers in Gotham, even if that includes him.

He lets the mission engrave itself into his heart– into the fabric of his very soul and right next to his revenge. You're going to be safe. He is going to keep you safe, and he'll throw himself into fire to see it done.

[starchaserwrites]

@jegulus-microfic / march 15: use / word count: 456

"Regulus? Please don't hang up!,” the person on the other end of the line says as soon as he picks up the call. “I know you told me you never wanted to hear from me again, but I really need to hear your voice," It's three in the morning and the incoming call dragged him out of the peaceful sleep he was having.

A moment passes and the man continues with an abnormal speech rhythm. "Well, if you don't want to say anything just listen. I miss you incredibly much… and I know I need to move on, but how could I look away now that I've seen you?" there is the faint sound of clinking glasses and laughter. "I think I'm starting to forget things about you that I never thought I'd have to forget. I can't remember which of the bookshops near your flat you like best, or what brand of pencils you prefer to use," a hint of anguish and despair creeps in at the end of the sentence.

"Oh, by the way your favorite black hoodie is still here, I didn’t forget about it! It still smells vaguely of you and sometimes I wake up thinking that you'll be on the other side of the bed and that this will all have been a bad dream. Please come get it whenever you want, it would be more than nice to see you.

“Anyway, I'm surprised you're so quiet and haven't insulted me yet, I hope it's a sign that you're not so angry anymore. It hurts me every moment we are apart, and if you forgive me I promise I won't fail you ever again… I'm so sorry and I love you." the sound of sobs fills the line.

"Hey, do yourself a favour and never call this number again or you will regret it." James Potter answers in a steady voice.

The caller audibly gasps. “Wha— who are you? Where is Reggie?”

“I’m his boyfriend, that’s all you need to know,” the arm around his waist pulls him closer. “If you ever call again, I won’t be this calm, be warmed.”

"James, who is it?" asks a sleepy Regulus as he snuggles closer to his chest.

James is more than fed up with the pathetic speech, but he ends the call with a pleased smirk when Regulus' ex starts to protest after hearing his voice.

"Wrong number." 

It's the fourth time this month that the ex-boyfriend who cheated on Regulus has called. James and Regulus are not together (at least not yet), but after seeing him torn to pieces after the break-up, James refuses to let the bastard hurt him anymore.

Wrapping Regulus in his arms they go back to sleep.

[oceansarepink]

yikes at that anon lecturing you, but especially at this part

Paying attention to Stolas language in Murder Family, fucked up context aside, he don't bring up consequences if Blitz didn't accept the trade neither mentioned his power to threat him to accept it either, he offered and even asked if it's fair, someone as powerful as Stolas could control Blitz easily, yet he doesn't and it shows a lot about his character, but of fucking course you all don't care about that, Stolas is a big meanie.

what is it with Stolas fans and acting like what he says is the only thing that matters in that scene? saying 'fucked up context aside' is just trying to sweep away the entire problem people have with that scene

the context is what makes it unfair. the context is the threat to make Blitzo accept the deal - Stolas knew Blitzo was in danger and couldn't think straight and kept the call going anyway. there was a literal threat to Blitzo's life that Stolas was leveraging to get him to agree. the context is also where the control comes in - Blitzo needs access to the book therefore Stolas has control over him, because Blitzo has significant reason to agree regardless of whether he wants to or not to be able to keep being able to eat and house both himself and Loona. this isn't that hard to understand; it's no different than a power difference between a tenant and a landlord. except Stolas is worse because he's literal royalty and Blitzo is part of a species considered less than dirt

and Blitzo especially has reason to think there will be consequences for saying no because Stolas is showing him through ignoring all the signs he's in danger on that phone call that he does not care for his wellbeing - he called when Blitzo's life was in danger and he knew that full well. there's no 'yeah but'-ing to get out of that one. saying 'well Stolas could have been way more overt with his control!' is not a defense. Stolas is such a malicious abuser because he's the one person in the cast who isn't a mustache-twirling silent movie villain about it, because he'll do things like say 'sound fair?' when everything about the situation is weighted in his favor. this part is basically saying 'he could have been super obvious about how he was going to force Blitzo into sex but because he tried to pretend like he was being fair (even when he blatantly wasn't) that shows what a good person he is!'

also this:

This misconception you all have that Stolitz fans think all this needs to happen is Blitz to confess, and that Stolas has nothing more to improve is just wrong. Just plain wrong. I love both of these characters and I hate seeing an enormous mischaracterization of both.

I personally haven't seen the (remaining) Stolitz shippers saying this for one simple reason: I avoid their spaces. I don't like seeing posts similar to anon's where anything Stolas does wrong is the result of a misunderstanding or just Blitzo taking it badly because he's insecure or something, or worse where the very obvious signifiers of abuse on Stolas' part are handwaved away. I know that stuff will bug me so I avoid it

but anon clearly doesn't abide by the same rules. they're so bothered by a 'mischaracterization' of their faves that they're marching into people's inboxes to write long screeds about how antis are just missing the point or whatever else.

if there's only one anon or several my advice is the same: stay out of anti spaces. you clearly can't handle it and you need to stop making it everyone else's problem. if this ramping up of pestering people is some strange attempt to shut down criticism of the next ep before it even drops, you're wasting your time. the view counts on helluva show it's turned off a lot of people and you can't debate someone back into loving something that's let them down too many times

just go enjoy the show in your own spaces and block tags/people whose takes you don't want to see. trying to police people's critiques on helluva is both a losing battle and a waste of time

“Stolas is great if you just pay attention to his sad backstory and try not to think about the bad stuff he did. And attribute all the bad stuff to Blitz being a mentally ill tsundere”

Any time I am exposed to a owlizard shipper it’s always against my will despite my best efforts, because they are absolutely everywhere. The creator of the show is one of them, the entire show was thrown out to instead be catered to them and their headcanons. They make up almost the entire fan space and in fact shippers write and animate the very show itself.

But it’s still not good enough? They still have to rant about people that aren’t on their team?

[hemi-demi]

I have a lot of feelings about TMAGP 23, and I gotta let them out. As much as I would love to talk about the amazing statement and the other lovely moments between the cast, I am unfortunately very stuck on one specific part, and not in a good way.

Spoilers below cut:

I'm gonna be perfectly honest, this one hurt me way more than I thought, and I'm worried about my enjoyment of the series.

I truly want to enjoy Protocol for what it is. I've been an Alice defender since day 1, I love her moment with Gwen this episode, I love that Lena seems to be showing a bit more care for her employees. But even with all that, I can't keep doing this with the TMA references.

Look, I've never in my entire 32 goddamn years of living felt like a character in media represented me. Ever. And now I have two. Jon and Martin's relationship feels like seeing parts of myself love each other despite their problems. It's a relationship that resembles the one I have with my partner, and I see a lot of him in Martin especially. Listening to TMA was a wonderful experience because, yes, I knew it was a tragedy and I wish they could have a happy ending, but it was the ending they earned, and they got to go together, and the ambiguity was good enough for me.

I want to enjoy the new writers, the new characters, the focus on alchemy and try to piece together what's happening in the story with everyone else because I missed out on that with having binged TMA after the fact. I cannot do that if they keep taking the corpses of characters I love and dangle them in front of me with the vague hope that they might spring back to life.

But they teased that maybe Jon and Martin can be okay in one reality. I've seen people say they haven't, but between the "Hey, this sounds like them in therapy!" bit, and the Gerry and Gertrude scene, I genuinely believe they did to a degree, even if unintentionally.

Maybe we could have something nice, just one little scrap of "they're happy somewhere else" with the TMAGP versions as a nice cameo. I got my hopes up, hopes I didn't ask for, only to be told "Oh, they never knew each other, and they're dead. If they're happy together in any reality, it sure isn't fuck in this one. The characters you relate to more than anything can never be happy, and you're stupid for thinking that they can ☺️."

This hurts. I feel like I've been stabbed. We were told explicitly this could be enjoyed separately, and that Jon and Martin's ending would be left ambiguous. Unless they pull the rug out from under us and say "Oh, Fr3ddi isn't Jon and Martin at all" (which I've been saying since the beginning. I'm of the "stolen voices" camp and I hope that's what it is, or something else.) then I'm now listening to a show where my favorite characters are suffering, again. And even if they do, the versions in TMAGP are presumably dead anyway.

It's like in fanfiction how you always tag stuff like "Bad endings" or "Major character death". You do that because people have grown attached to these characters and don't always want to watch them suffer again (or do, then you filter by it). The new characters I signed up for hearing their pain and torment, I don't know them yet, and I want to see how their stories play out even if it's painful. But I feel like I'm reading an untagged fanfic right now that is cutting into the original story I did want to listen to.

I want this to be its own thing. I want to care about Alice and Gwen and Sam so when they inevitably die I can feel like I did with TMA again, in a sort of reverent peace with things.

And then chasing that with "Oh, also, Basira and Helen-" just felt like extra salt.

I don't want people to take this as being cruel to the writers, or that I'm being entitled. I genuinely didn't want them to have to dive too deep back into TMA, I'm here for the new stuff. And I'm sure I'll get a bit of "this isn't the genre for you, then, horror is-" I know. I've been engaged with horror since I was much too young. It's my favorite genre. I'm fine with character death. I thought TMA handled it very well.

But I can't pretend that this doesn't hurt, either. I'm sure they have more planned, that this could just be a red herring, but that doesn't stop this from hurting right now when I have no idea what comes next.

I had a glimmer of hope that I was perfectly fine with watching from afar, that they made into a beacon too impossibly bright to ignore. Then, when I steer my boat towards it, I'm lured onto the jagged rocks. Just because they throw me a life preserver a few weeks later doesn't remove the water from my lungs.

Idk. I know some people are excited about this, and I hope they get everything they're looking for out of the story, but I worry that at this rate, I might not. At least not until the wound heals some more.

Okay, I'm gonna go back to writing fanfiction where they get to be happy. Pretty sure that's as close as I'm going to get.

[dcviated]

@seawrought sent: ‘ Malkuth? Can I, um… talk to you for a moment? ’ Highmore motions for the Kuranta to join her, before presenting her with a small, simple box. Inside is a collection of chocolates moulded into the shape of seashells, some in lighter shades, some of a darker variety. ‘ This, um… I was trying out a lot of different chocolate recipes earlier, because of—a-anyway. I ended up making a lot of them… Would you want some? I’ve heard it’s fine to give them to friends, too, as a sign of appreciation. And I am grateful for your company, so… ’ On second thought, maybe Malkuth doesn’t want this at all. Maybe she’d mistrust something Highmore made, and who could blame her?

‘ Anyway, I’d understand if you don’t want them. ’

The sound of her name being called out usually elicits from the woman a jump for joy. More literal than not. Jubilations would be abound as someone wishes for her company, companionship, camaraderie, etc. This isn't the usual, however. This holiday had found itself (and Malkuth) in The Kitchen at one point or another. And while she hadn't been crafting something as unholy and illegal as marmaloni there had still been fallout from-

...experiments...

So it is then, that Highmore is first met with a look of panic, Elafia in the headlights, before the standard faire Malkuth takes hold. Relief. It's not one of the kitchen staff asking why there had been carrots in the fondue pot!

"Oh- oh! Highmore oh my gosh hi!! I haven't seen you in forever don't you know how much I miss you??? Yes lets talk!" But over here where they aren't in the hallway and attracting extra attention. She's more or less hiding after all. But the surprises go beyond chocolate covered vegetables today.

Sure, the chocolates are tasty looking and better than the 'homemade' attempts the Kuranta had tried. But. Highmore? What was that you said to Malkuth? Where once she was ready to shed tears in apology, the glimmering beads in her eyes now step forward from another sentiment.

"You're finally admitting it? That we're friends? Eeeeehehehe!" Chocolates are accepted but before that private space is invaded as the excitable Kuranta embraces the Aegir and wobbles them side to side with the momentum of excitement. "That's better than any candy! You're making so much progress! I mean we've been friends for ages now but you know what I mean! You're agreeing! What do you mean you understand if I don't want it- Himo I'll eat so much chocolate I'll get sick! Which was the plan already for this week but now you're included too!"

"....oh, I was going to give you some chocolate too! Definitely! But I'm uh... lets just say that they're... not... ready yet? Yeah. I'm still working out the kinks in my recipe. Current doesn't like candy so I thought maybe if I combined vegetables with chocolate that'd work to counter their anti-sweet tooth? But... um...."

Word by word you can see her expression faltering.

"Well if you want to try a chocolate potato let me know okay??"

[mememan93]

you're like the ONLY person ive seen so far who doesnt like totk and ooooh my god that was so refreshing to see. it was such a HUGE let down and so empty and the story was so weak. i miss real dungeons and puzzles and if botw/totk becomes the new 3d zelda norm im gonna scream

<3 glad to be a hater in these times

But im so with you, how do they add 2 new overworlds and they're so emptyyyy. like. especially the main overworld. you have your shrines, and your koroks, and your sign guy, but it's been canon years after botw, and they haven't started making any new towns? hateno was the most changed place and its bcs it had mushrooms and an interesting quest

The story really just suffers from the memory format, which like i say abt botw, made sense for that game, bcs its an amnesia story. But in this case, why? why couldn't it have been Link helping ppl in the present with those stories, while learning abt the imprisoning war, and stumbling across a chance to go back himself and meet the characters too and play a role. There are ways to tell a compelling (or at least sensible and strong) story in an open world game. I could talk abt oblivion's storylines for hours.

And the puzzles... man what the hell. They showed parts of the fire temple in a trailer and i was so hyped for a complex dungeon that builds on itself and it was once again... turn on the four terminals/fans/batteries/whatever. I can't with these puzzles, I really hope in the next game they stop with shrines and give at least good dungeons, and maybe more items than just what's given at the start of the game...

If you have an NSO subscription, i highly recommend the oracles games. I've been playing ages and oh my god the puzzles are spectacular. I haven't been this stumped in a while. Haven't played seasons yet, and ppl say ages is more puzzle based and seasons is more combat based so play whichever one sounds more fun. (and if you don't have an NSO subscription i may know a website where you can play them in your browser)

Anyway, thanks for sending this ask and letting me ramble. I so feel you. if i ever get too negative for you (or anyone) i always tag the posts "[what im talking abt] neg" (like this will be tagged "Totk neg" so feel free to blacklist it

[demented-tours]

The project is simple: Dear World Rage Emotion Box. One photo, one text dump. Raw thoughts. Minimum editing. Fuck typos. Fuck perfection. No masking/curbing/appeasing. No apologies. I don't care how this sounds. Not sure why it needs to be public. I do know why this needs to be public, but maybe it always won't. Maybe I delete these ten seconds after I post them. Maybe I print them out and make fucking wallpaper. Not creating yet another account for this, either. I've officially forgotten too many versions of myself to add another.

///

Dear World 3,

He said, I made you something.

I didn't say anything. I looked at the artwork and cried for two hours because somebody saw something I didn't think I showed anyone. But he'd seen it all along. He still does. I believe he always will.

She said, Write me a sentence, Dee.

And I did. Many. Still am. It's magic every time.

They said, You're the best writer I know.

I said nothing. But I'm determined to be the best Keeper of Stories. I won't let you down.

She said, Happy birthday!

I stared at the art on the page of what previously only lived in my head and wondered, not for the first time, which reality actually matters. I'm pretty sure it's not the one we think.

She said, Just remember: you're smarter than they are.

I laughed. I thought of peppermint wrappers.

She said, You'll never know how much what you said did for me.

I didn't know what to say. I still don't. I just hope the right things keep coming when I need them. For her, for others, for me, for anyone.

She said, I just thought, 'I want to be her friend.'

I hope she still is one. And if not, a reason, a season, a lifetime.

She said, I brought you chicken and rice, balloons, brownies, and the homework you missed.

I said nothing. I sat in her wake and cried and swore I'd never forget. I haven't.

She asked, Why did you keep one of the angels?

I said, Because it felt right. I didn't say: Because dark doesn't scare me, and if I need to hold on to a piece of yours, I can.

He said, Do you want to get out of here while they work?

I nodded. We left. I sat behind the wheel and wondered at the sensation of someone seeing what I needed and letting me make the choices to have it.

He said, People will either get over it or they won't.

I allowed that to settle into my bones and let it be something I remember when I need it.

He said, Your smile is so gorgeous.

I smiled. And for the first time, I thought maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought.

She said, You remind me of a character in a book I once read. It was this woman who lived in a tiny apartment that the detective would go see when they were stuck. The detective said, 'She knows nothing, but understands everything."

I said, Thank you. Because of the million words that gathered in my throat, those were the only two that made it out of my mouth.

He wrote, As it is with all things, it's the trying that counts. Very proud of you.

I pinned it to my wall. I thought about how we think we know the words we want to hear. But we don't.

She showed me over and over again that who I am is a strength.

I said, You'll never know how much you changed my life.

He said, She was the best Sherlock Holmes I've ever seen.

I ran to the stage, knowing he'd done this just for me. And when another said, What's her deal? She said, Be quiet. She's happy. Who cares? And to this day I'm not sure I knew what I had when I had it. But I'm still grateful.

He said, Don't hide who you really are. "Words and meaning, that's your trade. Your a wordsmith." - Sling Blade.

I said, I don't think that's quite how it goes but thank you anyway.

She said, This saved my life.

I realized my job was to believe her.

I said, I need a damn sign!

I got three.

They said, this changed me. This helped me. This made me see.

I promised to keep going.

And I will.

/D

Photo: Like a duck in water. He-she-they believe in me. So I can, too. Felt like whatever comes next.

[lizzybeth1986]

Sloane Washington: Character Playlist

For most of my Appreciation Weeks so far, I've been giving the character a playlist that touches on their characterization or things important to them. I've just realised I haven't done something like that for Sloane yet! So for Day 1 of SWAW '23, I'm going to put together this little list of songs that remind me of her and that I keep in the background when I'm writing about her.

You can find the playlist here on Spotify!

In the Still of the Night - Fred Parriss and the Satins

I remember

that night in May

The stars were bright above

I'll hope and I'll pray

to keep

your precious love

well before the light

Hold me again

with all of your might

in the still of the night

Sky Full of Stars - Coldplay

I don't care, go on and tear me apart

I don't care if you do, ooh-ooh, ooh

'Cause in a sky, 'cause in a sky full of stars

I think I saw you

Anxiety - Julia Michaels ft Selena Gomez

Oh, I try my best just to be social

I make all these plans with friends and hope they call and cancel

Then I overthink about the things I'm missing

Now I'm wishing I was with 'em

Iri Di - Late Night Buna

Let's taste some coffee

[...]

Yergacheffe's can be sweet floral toffee

Reminding us of the sweet taste of tangerine

Harrere's fruit dried out on the bean

Gives it a dark chocolaty feel

Hey

New Horizons - Brian May

New horizons to explore

New horizons no one's ever seen before

Limitless wonders in a neverending sky

We may never, never reach them

That's why we have to try

Love Letters - Ketty Lester

I memorize every line

and I kiss the name that you sign

And, darling, then I read again right from the start

Love letters straight from your heart

Penguins - Ed Sheeran

Well, she said we are penguins on the ice

We're not meant to fly, but God knows we can try

And I see a hope that's in her eyes

Oh, can you see the love in mine?

Can you see the love in mine?

Loner - Theory of A Deadman

No, I'm not afraid to stand up and say

I'm a loner, could be cooler, but that's okay

Don't need lots of friends who think I'm funny when

the ones I have think I'm God and don't have to pretend

None of it matters anyways

I'm a loner and that's okay

The Elements Song - Tom Lehrer

Ha! That's just the periodic table set to music.

Firework - Katy Perry

Baby, you're a firework

Come on, let your colors burst

Make 'em go, "Oh, oh, oh"

You're gonna leave 'em all in awe, awe, awe

Stuck to You - Josh Ritter

Oh there's one more thing Mama, I think that you'll find

It is not love that makes the stars shine

But the spontaneous combustion of super-heated and super-condensed gasses in the process known as fusion that creates new elements when the time is right

Since you're gone, stars don't shine so bright

[lollypopsx]

Hi love! What if Charleigh (Age 17) breaks a leg or something and has it in a cast, Harry carries her around being the over protective dad he is, and signs in her cast saying no matter how grown up she is he'll always be the first one to write on it, and he'll write something like 'get well soon my little Cherry' on it. Then they're both walking on the streets, meets some fans, one of them being mean to Charleigh and tries to push her down. She's already hurt and Harry isn't taking any of it!

Masterlist's

I haven't proof read this yet, please forgive me!

---

"Dad! That's not fair! You can't write anything on the bottom of my foot! I can't read it!" She whines, pouting and groaning softly.

Harry let out a chuckle as he sat with a sharpie in hand, Charleigh's broken foot was propped up on the coffee table with a cushion, Harry sat on floor at the end of her foot.

"What are you putting on there anyway?! I swear Dad, if it's a penis I will never forgive you!" She laughs.

"Shush! I'm a classy man!" He grins, his tongue stuck out in concentration as he drew a photo of a cherry.

"Yeah right! You wrote a song about a female or-"

"Hush child!" He furrows his brows, then writing on the front of the cast.

"Oh god here we go" She sighs.

'Get well soon my little Cherry - Dad x'

"Is it still sore?" He frowns softly.

"Not sore, but it aches and it feels weird" She frowns. Charleigh had never been in a cast in her life. "I hate this already, how am I going to go to the kitchen for food or go for a wee or go upstairs to bed?! I can't get a pedicure for 6 weeks!"

"You do have crutches darling, you're not chained to the sofa" He chuckles.

"Have you seen our stairs?! They're a death trap in heels, let alone crutches!"

"Well I'll just have to carry you up the stairs. You can bum shuffle down" He teases.

"Yeah right old man! You're not that strong!"

"Wow, a broken bone sure makes you more crabby! It's going to be a long six weeks" Harry chuckles, heading into the kitchen to get the ice cream.

Six Weeks Later

"How does it feel now it's off?!" Harry smiles as Charleigh emerged from the bathroom.

“Weird! But so much better now I’ve had a shower, the skin is really dry though” She frowns.

“Well, why don’t we go for a slow walk around the park and then after, we can go and get you into the nail shop, you can have your long-awaited pedicure” He chuckles.

She smiles and nods happily. “I missed going for walks with you”

She gently put her shoe on and wrapped herself up in her coat, and sunglasses. Charleigh linked her arm to her Dad’s as they headed out down the street, towards the heath.

The walk was calm and quiet, they walked slow and luckily there weren’t many people around, apart from the local elderly people who always said hello, mentioning Charleigh finally being out of her cast.

The view from the heath was beautiful and fresh. It was a clear day and the beautiful scene of London graced the skyline.

“So, tours coming up soon...still okay about going?” Harry asks softly as they sat on the bench at the top of the hill.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” She asks curiously, looking up at him.

“Well, you’re getting a bit older now and, you’ll be 18 soon. I realise that we’ve been touring your whole life, and I just wonder...well look I can’t help but to realise that you probably won’t want to come on many tours now you’re a bit older.” Harry sighs softly, feeling a slight prang in his chest at the thought of Charleigh not wanting to join him on tour one day.

“Dad, I love going on tour with you!” She frowns softly. “I know I whinge sometimes but, I really love doing it. Yeah, it sucks sometimes not seeing my friends and a load of travelling, but I...it wouldn’t feel right not being on tour with you” She rests her head gently on Harry’s shoulder as his lips curled into a smile.

“It’s good to have you with me, Cherry” He wraps his arm around her shoulder tightly as she grins.

“It’s good to have you with me, Dad” She nods.

After a short while of chatting, the pair left the heath and wandered to the nail salon, round the corner from their house. Charleigh and Harry were regulars here, so they were always greeted by a warm welcome.

They sat for an hour, getting spa pedicures and their nails tended to. The shop was quiet and relaxed, exactly what they needed. As they said goodbye and paid for their treatments, Charleigh began to feel the tiredness overtake her body.

“Ready for home now darling? You look tired lovie” He wraps his arm around Charleigh as they slowly head home.

“I haven’t walked this much is weeks” She yawns softly, rubbing her eyes slowly. They had done well to avoid being spotted by fans until now.

“Oh my god it’s Harry and Charleigh!” A group of girls were heard squealing as they rushed around the road. Charleigh’s shoulders tensed up, realising she couldn’t walk as quick as usual. Harry’s grip tightened gently. “It’s okay” He whispers, reassuring her quietly and greeting the fans politely.

They crowded quickly, clearly very over-excited.

“Can we have a photo?”

“Please take a photo with us!”

“Can you sign this for me?”

“Harry take a photo!”

“OMG I can’t believe it’s Harry!”

The crowd squealed as Charleigh took a step back, he signed, smiled, and took photos with everyone before excusing himself, as he walked back to Charleigh.

She was tired and her foot was really hurting, aching from the amount of movement and slight swelling. Charleigh felt nudge against her shoulder, causing her to stumble slightly.

“My eyes were closed! Can we re-take the photo?!” One obnoxious girl grins.

“Excuse me. I’m really sorry but I need to get my daughter home and I don’t appreciate her being pushed, especially when she’s just come out of a cast” He furrows his brow, keeping the annoyance at bay, but Charleigh could sense it. He held onto Charleigh closely, keeping her close to his side until they get into their security gate and muttering under his breath.

“I’m thankful for the fans but some of them have no respect” He mutters, getting the key in the door to let them in. “No spacial awareness” He frowns. “Are you okay?! You didn’t fall did you?”

She shook her head slowly but with tears in her eyes. “I’m fine, my foot just hurts a bit” She sniffles, as Harry instantly engulfs her into his arms.

“I’m sorry Cherry” He frowns, pressing a gentle kiss to her head. “I’ll run you a bath and then we can watch a film while you rest your foot okay?”

She wipes her eyes and nods softly. “Sure, thanks Dad” She whispers.

——————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @stylessupremacy - @damnasstyles - @awesomebooklover17 - @hazgoldenstyles - @evanjh - @harrysbracelet - @nerdypartytrashpsychic - @harryssweatcreaturee - @hibaiqbal12 - @ayeshathestyles - @michellekstyles - @rach2602 - @randomwriter1021 - @elizabethrosecresswell - @izziestyles - @florencepughily - @finelinevogue - @justalostgirl - @handsomerry - @watermelonlovershigh - @harrys-cherrry - @crustyblackvans - @kaitieskidmore1 - @vanteguccir - @vodka-popsicles - @emlovesharrystyles - @ffinelinerry - @candystar288 - @somanyfandomsbruh

[lyon-amore]

Stand by me 1

How many meetings between Jake and the MC am I going to write until the next game comes out? 😂

Well, this time I put the name of my MC, to take away the embarrassment of writing it, I just hope you like reading it

Enjoy it!!

⚠️ ATTENTION: Mention of blood and wounds. If you're new to the fandom and haven't finished the game yet, don't read it to avoid endgame spoilers.⚠️​

The time I had spent in Duskwood was over.

I was tired after so many interrogations, both from the police and the FBI. 

One by one, they had been asking us, they hadn't even let us be together so we could make up a story together.

But none of us told the truth. At least, that's what I thought.

In two days I had to go back to work, so the only day I had been able to be with a Duskwood friend was with Jessy, who she most needed to be with someone right now. After that, it was all questions and more questions. My head ached. 

I start to pack, when I receive a message. Rather, a location.

And nothing less than the Nymos chat.

My heart races, not believing it to be true.

I hadn't heard from Jake since that last text, telling me 'I love you'. I didn't hear from him after that. I didn't want to talk to anyone.

I expected some message from him, a word, an enigma, something. I also couldn't focus on work for every notification I received.

I always ended up going to the bathroom to cry again. My co-workers kept asking me what was wrong with me. Until I finally traveled to Duskwood to clarify what happened. Just to make it worse.

I keep looking at the message. The cartel was one of the exits from Duskwood, was Jake there waiting for me?

He had promised me that they would no longer separate him from me. Was it possible? Had he survived the mine?

I finish packing. I was going to be prepared just in case it was a false alarm, that maybe this stupid program had stopped working because it had crashed anyway.

Yes, I was quite angry, I hadn't slept for a long time. No sleep. Just cry. It was all I did since I hadn't heard from Jake.I had to check it out.

   I look on the map on my phone at the nearby exit where it indicated me.As I was leaving in the car, I was surprised that there was suddenly more surveillance and even some officers stopped me.

   "Can I see her car, Miss Connors?"

    "Yes of course."

     I get out of the car opening the back door and then the trunk.

They observe everything meticulously, without leaving any corner without looking. It bothers me that they even opened my suitcase. Did they really think I had Jake in there?

    "Is it necessary?" I ask, closing it hurriedly.

    "We have been informed that the hacker had been seen nearby," the agent replies.

    "Really?" I show my impassive face. Giving no sign of surprise. Or maybe I didn't even believe it myself. I had received nothing from him.

    "Yes, that's why we have more surveillance posts around Duskwood."

    "But they won't register me again at the Duskwood exit, right?"

    "No, don't worry, the perimeter of where they've been seen doesn't go that far," he answers, gesturing with his cap, "besides, they think they've shot him, if it was just an animal what they saw. so he won't get very far."

    "Thank goodness." I tried to stay calm. I hope it's not him. "Good luck catching him.” I put on my best smile, despite not wanting to. Better get along with them.

    "Have a good day miss and sorry for everything that happened." he smiles at me, charmingly "It must have been horrible to be manipulated."

    "Yes… Thank you. You too."

     I got back in the car and I looked in the rearview mirror at the agents joking with the guy, saying a couple of things like "what a hunk you are" or "flirting during work hours?". Luckily I was leaving there.

I drove and as promised, there was no one near the Duskwood exit sign.

I park off the road and looked everywhere.

Forest on one side, forest on the other. But no trace of Jake.

 I lean against the car, looking at Nymos's message. Then the Duskwood sign.

I place the phone at a perfect distance to see what the same place was. I strain my eyes to get a good look at every little detail. It was the same place.

    "Great, there's no one here." I put the cell phone in my jacket pocket, trying not to get more upset. "I knew it was a waste of time… Or he would have already contacted me…” My voice sounds broken, about to cry. No again…

I hear a bang on the car and the movement of how it had been hit and I turn around scared.

There, leaning with his head bowed, was a person. Despite the dirt on his clothes, it could be seen that it was black, wearing a hood.

    "Hey... Are you okay?" I ask, concerned.

    "Uh…" a man's voice. And it seems that he can hardly speak.One of his hands is resting on the car and the other on his body.

He looks up and meets my eyes.

    "I guess... I must be already dead, right?" he asks, under his mask. I can't believe it, I can't even move "An angel came looking for me..."

    "You..."

The man tries to straighten up, but falls to the ground.

    "Jake!" I yell as I approach him. I knew it instantly.

     I bent down putting his head in my lap and I noticed the blood on his sweatshirt. He had a hole. Yes, they had shot him.

    "No, no, no…" I get nervous when I see him and decide to pat his face to wake him up "Jake, come on, don't do this to me now. Stay with me, come on."

    He open his eyes a little. Tired. I'd even say his skin is paler for someone he's been hiding for a long time. It was because of the shot.

    "Cal-Calm..." He lowers his mask as best he can. It's hard for him to speak, but I need him to speak, for his sake "I already… I already told you that they weren't going to separate me from you…"

   "Come on, we have to go to a hospital," I sit him up slowly, trying to open the back door to lay him down in the car.

    "No... they'll ask a lot of questions and that's not good." he tells me, putting a hand to the wound.

    "You don't think I'll heal you, do you?" I ask, accommodating him.

    "If possible..."

    "For God's sake…"

     I slam the door, bringing a hand to my head, massaging my forehead.

I grab his suitcase and backpack and put it in the trunk. Had he carried all of this wounded up here? Why didn't he call me earlier?

I walk to my seat as fast as I can. I look in the rearview mirror at Jake, looking pained and about to fall asleep.

    “Jake, hey,” he looks up at me in the mirror “I need you to stay awake.

    "Yes... Done... I'm good at that."

    Well, at least he's in the mood to joke around, but not me.

Dammit.

    "The FBI has asked us all about you," I try to maintain a conversation, keeping him informed, "luckily, that you have deleted all the messages after disappearing has been useful."

    “I couldn't trust them to look at your cell phones."

    "I know."

    “I suppose that… You must have felt bad that I deleted my last message."

    “No, don't worry."

    “I'm sorry…" he moans under his breath until he speaks again "I tried to save Richy, but-"

    "That doesn't matter now," I replied, swallowing hard.

    "But he was your friend-"

    "Jake…" I pause, wondering if it was a good thing to tell him now. But I didn't know what to talk to him about at that moment, there was a lot of information to give "It was Richy, he kidnapped Hannah."

I thought I heard some insult, a little anger, but no. He laughs. As if he amused him.

    "Seriously? Do you find it funny?"

    "Why do you think I warned you from the start not to trust anyone?"

    "You had already suspected something, right?"

    "I didn't watch the three days after she disappeared for nothing," he complains again and I squeeze my hands. Shit, he's in pain. "But when you told me about he being attacked, I completely ruled it out."

    "Well then... Unfortunately, I don't."

    "What?"

    "I'll tell you."

    "Macie… did you know that?"

    I avoid saying yes, because I don't want to argue now.

    "I was never wrong about you," he lets out another laugh. If it wasn't for him being badly injured, I would have found it sexy in being deep. Instead, I was concerned about him. It sounded like the laugh of someone who knew they were going to die. "You really are fascinating."

    "Do you think it's time to flirt?" I ask seriously.

    "I wanted to see you," he answers, smiling "at least for the first and last time..."

    "Jake, take that back or I swear it's not the shot that's going to kill you." I try not to turn to answer him, but I stare into the rearview mirror. "You don't know how glad I am that you're alive."

    "Even in such a deplorable state?"

    "Were you going to get dressed for me?"

    “Maybe."

     A laugh escapes me. God… What a lovable fool he is.

    "Okay, and how would you have managed?" I ask, keeping him awake. "In the hypothetical case that we would have gone out to dinner, for example."

    "Oh, well…" He sits up a little, and I watch as he runs his tongue thoughtfully over his lips. I bite my lip thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, but taking advantage of a badly wounded man was wrong and I have my principles. "Remember I would take you to a Chinese restaurant?"

    "Yes, how can I not forget it?"

    "It wouldn't be just any" I see how his eyes begin to shine, as if he was recovering a little "I would have looked for the most elegant restaurant that they could have had."

He laughs and I join him.

  "I… I would surely have rented a tuxedo," I see how he tightens the wound, as if he wanted to make a tourniquet with the clothes "because unfortunately, one made to measure is very expensive."

    "And you'd be the most handsome man in a rented tuxedo." I tried to stay calm, following the conversation.

    "Do you like the beard better or do you prefer me without it?"

    "Hmm...Fixed?"

    "Sorry, I didn't have time to shave with the FBI behind me," he sighs sadly.

    "Don't worry, I find the situation quite normal," I say sarcastically. All this is too new for me.

    "And you… You would be the most beautiful woman in the restaurant." I blush when I hear it, he really means it, not joking. His tone is sincere. "You would wear a beautiful dress… Favorite color? "

    "What color would you choose?"

    "Black."

    "Classic, you never go wrong with that color."

    "I'm sorry, I was just thinking that we could go combined in the clothing."

    "I like that."

    "Everyone would turn to see you." I look quickly in the rearview mirror, seeing how his gaze seems lost in those thoughts. "And I would be the most envied man of all. Because there would be no one to match your beauty."

    “Is it blood loss that makes you talk like that?" I ask, my face burning.

    "No, only my love for you."

    "Yes, the blood loss."

     He lets out a laugh, then groans.

I love being able to be with him and talk face to face like I always wanted, but circumstances mean that I don't feel better than I thought.

Surely he must be happier to see me given his state, perhaps he must think that it will be the last time he will see me and he wants to take advantage of telling me everything that he has never been able to tell me in messages, because it was something else intimate.

Well, I'm not going to let him die in my car. Neither anywhere. I will do everything possible so that this does not happen.

    "Hold on a little longer, Jake…" he muttered under his breath, revving up the car.

I don't even care about the fine I get home, I don't care at all. Jake's life comes first.

We arrived at the urbanization, at the end of the street.

I park the car and with effort, helped Jake to sit up. He make an effort to hold on to me.

    "I have you, I'm not going to let you go," I say, walking slowly.

    "I hope so..."

    "Have I given you reason to doubt me?" I ask, smiling.

    "Never."

     I'm lucky there aren't any neighbors down the street at that time, they all work.

I open the front door, leaving the keys in the cabinet next to me, closing the door with my foot.

    "We're here, I'm going to take you to the room."

    “Macie, I appreciate your effort, but this is not the time for that."

    "Jake, I appreciate your effort to make jokes so you think I can be calm, but you're not helping me calm down." I frown, avoiding looking at him. I must be red because of that joke. And I have to concentrate if I want to be able to help him.

    "Sorry, I just don't want you to be nervous about the situation..."

    "How can I not be?"

    "It'll be fine." I look at him and see that he smiles with effort.

     Damn stupid and beautiful smile. I think I already know what my weakness will be with this man every time I try to get angry with him: his way of smiling at me to calm me down.

I open the bed with one hand and sit him down slowly, helping him remove his sweatshirt along with his shirt.

Seeing the wound, I put a hand to my mouth avoiding vomiting when I saw the blood.

    "Oh my God..."

    "Hey, look at me," I listen, ignoring the gunshot wound. He suppresses the pain with a calm face, almost forcing a smile. "You're going to do well, angel."

    "And that nickname?"

    "Because you are my savior."

    "Too much faith in me."

    "And that's never going to change."

I sighed and laid him down slowly.

    "I'll go-" I try to calm down as much as I can, avoiding seeing much of the wound at the moment "I'll go get what I need."

    "Don't worry, I'm not moving from here."

    "God... Just don't die now."

I leave the room, first going to the bathroom for the first aid kit. I also need something to get the bullet out, it can't stay inside.

    "It's going to be the worst thing I've ever done in my life," I talk to myself as I look for some tweezers "but I'm doing it because I'm in love with him... I hope I don't lose him because I'm the one who kills him trying to save him."

I return to the room with everything I need and leave it on the table, then I go to the bathroom again and wash my hands, wishing myself good luck with what I was going to do.

Returning, I stand next to the bed, taking the chair from the desk.

    "It doesn't look very good." I commented, not sure how to begin.

    "It's a good thing you're a journalist, because as a nurse, you wouldn't be good at cheering up patients." I gave him a dirty look at his joke and he smiled. You have to clean first so you can get a good look at the wound."

    "Have you ever done it?" I asked, grabbing a couple of gauze pads to clean the area.

    "You want to know the answer?"

   "Is that a 'Several times, Macie, I'm used to getting shot'?" I try to mimic his voice, looking for a way to not think I have a wound in front of me.

Horrible. Horrible vision.

    "Most of them have grazed me."

    "It doesn't relax me at all."

    "Okay, you have to take the bullet out now."

     I swallowed hard, her hand where I hold the tweezer shaking.

I can't… I can't do it. It's hard. I'm going to fuck it off and I'm going to kill him.

Jake grabs my hand and I look at him. His calm eyes calm me little by little.

    “Take a deep breath, Macie, you're doing great."

    "You're going to have to reward me, too much." My hand stops shaking and slowly releases me.

    “I'm accumulating everything I want to reward you."

    "Do you have a list?"

    "But I'm not going to tell you what other things I have written down apart from dinner and a day with you."

    "Well, the day you are already giving it to me…."

    "I'd rather it wasn't this one."

I can't be mad at this man. In the end he knows how to calm me down whenever I get mad at him.

I take a deep breath, bringing the tweezers closer to the wound.

I'm going to pass out.

Jake starts to complain and I stop. But he makes me a sign for him to continue.

I get to touch something with the tweezers and I give a cry full of happiness. I try to calm down despite the joy.

    "I found it Jake," I announced. "What do I do? Did I just take it out?"

    "Well… make sure it doesn't bleed me dry."

    "What?!"

    "Press the wound so it doesn't go through."

    "It's incredible that you trust me..."

     I reached for another gauze pad, pressing down on the wound as I slowly pulled the bullet out.

I try to endure how I can’t pass out, it is difficult for me to see it.

As soon as the bullet is out, I press on the wound, breathing heavily.

    "Okay, okay, okay," I nod, turning my gaze to him. "I guess now it's time to put the bandage on."

     I can't stop shaking. My whole body doesn't react well to what I want to do.

    "Sh... Sew..." He says with difficulty.

    "Jake... If you don't die, I'm going to kill you for doing this to me. WE SHOULD HAVE GONE TO A HOSPITAL! I can't do it."

    "Macie... The police would be notified if I went."

    "True… You're right… I was just thinking about your health and that you trust me in this, it makes me nervous" he laughs and I give him an angry look. How many have I had already? I think I can also add to the lack of sleep that I’m in a bad mood.

    "Excuse me, I don't like that we met under these circumstances either," he answers me calmly "believe me when I tell you that it hurts me that you have to go through this."

    "I know Jake, I already know your habit of protecting me from anything." I smile sweetly at him and he does the same. I takes his hands and places them on the gauze. "Press, because I have to prepare the needle and the thread."

    "All right…"

    "I don't think it's as difficult as sewing one of the cushions that Henry chewed on when he was little." I lie, it was partly a reason, but I had been sewing for a long time. A story that I did not want to reveal at the moment. I’m embarrassed.

    "Where is he?"

    "At Lian's house, I left it in her care," I says, while I do the work. Well, I think it's a little different from everything I've sewn so far... My disgusted face is priceless. "I should have gone looking for him before coming here."

    "I would have... I would have liked to meet him..."

    "You will." I look at him and see that his eyes are closed. I'm starting to get scared "Jake? Jake! Now don't do this to me!"

I checked his pulse and sighed in relief. He just passed out.

I continued with his wound and cleansed the area, ridding it of his blood remnants. I finish the bandage with effort and let out a long breath, wiping the sweat from my forehead.

Knowing that he is sleeping, I start to cry, knowing that he couldn't see me like that. This shouldn't have happened to him. Not this way. 

When I'm done, I pick up everything and go to the bathroom to wash my bloody hands.

It's not my fault, right? Someone has to tell me that it's not my fault that because I'm like this. 

Yes. 

Yes it is.

I should have gone to the mine. This way, the FBI would have been prevented from knowing he was there. And who knows how they knew.

I have to change his clothes at least… I'll go get his travel bag.

Slowly and with effort, I try to put on some more comfortable pants that I had in his suitcase, also placing a towel under it, preventing it from getting stained again by the blood on the bed.

With effort, I try to get him to take a painkiller, talking to him calmly so that he doesn't get scared when I wake him up. He hardly even realizes how exhausted he is.

I lie on the opposite side of the wound, exhausted.

I took his hand and caressed it lovingly, while with the other, brushed his hair from his face. He looks very calm, as if nothing had happened. I'm happy that he’s okay. 

I finally close my eyes, letting myself be overcome by sleep.

The sound of thunder wakes me up, almost jumping out of bed.

I hear the rain. A relaxing soundBut that only lasts a few seconds when I see that Jake is not in bed.

    "No, no, no, no" I look at the floor, finding myself with the travel bag "Where is he?!" I get up and head to the living room, expecting to find him there.

Nothing. 

A stupid idea comes to my mind. And he has gone out on the street?

 I go to the entrance and go out. Fortunately, he hasn't left, he walks very slowly.

    “Jake!” I call to him but he doesn't react. I run up to him. It's going to get worse in the rain!  "Jake! Stop!"

     I grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn around. His eyes seem lost. Sleepwalker?

    "Macie…" he whispers my name, worried "I have to go get Hannah and Richy…"

    "Jake, Hannah is safe, remember?"

     It hurts me to see him this way. So weak.

    "No… She doesn't…"

    "Yes, Alan saved her, I told you." I have to remind him, because if I forced him into the house, he might be angry because I'm forbidding him to go after his sister. "We made it, remember? Let's go home" he's burning up, he's got a fever. He needs a doctor, he can't go on like this.

    "To home…"

    "Yes." Slowly, I lead him back to the house. I smiled at him so he wouldn't worry about me too. "My house is your house. It's ours. Here you are safe. "

     "Macie…. You're an angel."

I don't roll my eyes. I don't blush. If for him I am the person who has saved his life, then I will be. He has always protected me, now he has to take care of him. He deserves it. Jake deserves to be taken care of too.

As I towel him dry and put clean clothes back on him, I call on my phone, waiting for him to answer.

    “Macie…?” my cousin's voice sounds sleepy ”It's two in the morning. What happened?”

    “Who's there at this hour?” I hear Sophia, his girlfriend, on the other end of the line, also half asleep.

    “It's Macie. ”

    “God, it's so late.”

    "Stephan, I need your help." I finish getting Jake completely dry and lay him down again. I don't give a shit about the time, I have to help Jake ”Wasn't one of your band a doctor?”

    "Ashley? Why are you asking about her?" I get nervous that he's asking questions in such a hurry. "Are you okay? What happened?"

    "You just tell me a way to contact her!"

    "Okay, calm down, don't yell at me."

    "Sorry, it's a matter of life or death."

    "WHAT?!"

    "Don't yell" Sophia tells him.

    "Macie!" What's going on?! "

    "I can't tell you, I only ask you to send her to my house, now."

    "You have no intention of telling me, do you?"

    "Stephan!"

    "Yes, okay, I'll call right away to come to your house!"

    "As soon as I hang up."

    "Received. Right now. "

I hung up and looked at Jake.

I placed a hand on his forehead. He still has a fever.

I'd better dry off too or else I won't be able to take care of him if I get sick.

    <<I hope she arrives quickly. >>

Part 2

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

[baeklination]

Free Spirit: Yoga

Date: 211217

Warnings: SMUT 🔞, eating out, fucking

Pairing: Baekhyun x F. Reader

WC: 2,1k

Masterlist

¤¤

"Miss..?"

Patting down your sweaty neck, you turn around to see who called you. Shit. Baekhyun: yoga instructor number one (for you, at least). Or rather you had hoped he would be, until The Incident.

Two weeks ago

Going to the gym for the usual stuff - cardio and weights - throwing a few glances at Baekhyun while he held class had become more than a habit; the way he'd bow softly when greeting his students, smile congenially when someone managed a new pose, the way the bones of his foot flexed under his mandala tattoo when he walked across the wooden floor and, of course, the way his hands, light as air, would centre a waist here, tuck in a tailbone there, straighten up a hip… Everything he did was careful and gentle, yet powerful and masculine… Yes, Baekhyun was indeed number one on your list.

Deciding things had gone on in a non-going on way too long you signed up for a test class (best to start slow because if yoga wasn't as pleasant as it seemed no amount of visuals would be worth the dime for two months) and it had been quite nice - until the fateful Warrior came along. As it was similar to a forward lunge you had no problem doing it, except for when it came to the balance while lifting your hands. When Baekhyun came over to help, you laughed inwardly for feeling like you just got asked to prom. Maybe you laughed a little too much, 'cus when it was time to change to Warrior 2 you turned a little fast, making him accidentally brush your breast with his hand. If you'd been facing him you would've laughed apologetically (since the mistake was obviously at your end), but you weren't, so you stayed silent, awkward, embarrassed. The faint clearing of his throat to acknowledge what had just occurred didn't exactly help the situation either. And thus ended your yoga journey.

•

"Oh… Hi."

Reaching out with his arms, but not actually touching you, the gesture is warm but respectful.

"I didn't see you again, so I just wanted to see if it was because of, maybe apologise... I usually exchange a few pleasantries such as names before the...", he chuckles, seemingly not embarrassed about it anymore. "Baekhyun", he adds, softly placing his palm on his chest.

Good thing you're already sweating...

"Y/N. And it was my fault. And then I felt awkward coming back. But I haven't seen you either, I was afraid you might've been reprimanded or something", you smile shyly.

"Oh, that's right", he says, as if remembering. "You work out afternoons. No, I let someone have those shifts. He's just come out of school and it can be tough to find a place."

"Ah. Well, I wouldn't have seen you anyway then."

"Nah. Not unless you came down to my studio."

"You have your own place outside? Hm, I didn't know."

"I do. And I make home visits."

•

"So it really is you", Baekhyun says, eyes fluttering discreetly, when you open the door.

Bringing your smile down a notch (you don't want to be too obvious), you step aside for him to walk in.

"It really is me… How'd you know?"

"I recognized the name. But I wasn't sure since the address is a little…"

"Hoity-toity?"

"Well...yes. But it's a beautiful spot for your lesson", he says, walking up to the mat you placed beside the threshold to the terrace.

He takes a deep breath, letting the sun invigorate him before sitting down in a Lotus, putting his palm out for you to sit as well.

"Please..."

In his white v-neck and orange pants he's the poster child for Sexy Serenity, making the idea of a close and cozy lesson as intimidating as it is exhilarating, so it's with one hundred percent fake poise you sit down next to him.

"Let's breathe here for a moment", he says, carefully putting his hand on your stomach. He lets out a short laugh through his nose when his move makes you do the opposite - hold your breath.

"And the belly goes out when we inhale… Push onto my hand...there you go...perfect."

His tone is relaxed and his wording proper, but it nonetheless forces images of his hand travelling downward into your head.

Whether he's actually sensitive enough to be affected by the giant cloud of pheromones you're emanating, he's clearly affected by something. When pulling his hand away from straightening your spine his fingertips linger that extra half a second and following that, the slightest thing seems testing. As if his hand betrayed his mind he's hesitant about touching your body the way he does everyone else's; clearing his throat, an air of impatience and nerve surrounding him. Once again going over Warrior the feeling when he's standing behind you is altogether different than before. Reiterating the importance of breathing with balance, he no doubt understands why you have trouble keeping them smooth, particularly since his come out with a tremble on your shoulder.

•

"I'm not sure if I'm doing it right, I don't feel anything in my arms. Is this really it?"

Waiting for an answer but not getting one you turn towards him. His expression, lips slightly parted and a faint frown coupled with the way his palms rest on his thighs, sends different signals than his usual tranquility, so you sit up from your Child's Pose.

"What…?"

"No, nothing. I… I think maybe we'll wrap up for now and-"

"Wrap- what? It's only been fifteen minutes..?"

"Yeah, I know, but...", he says, holding out his hand before cautiously continuing. "...I'm really attracted to you and it's not appropriate. I'd be more than happy to recommend someone-"

"Don't be appropriate."

The words slip out before you can stop them - before you've even thought them; you were busy being stunned by his blunt honesty. For an eternity of three seconds you don't say anything, merely look at each other with the same mix of surprise and caution.

"I mean…", you start, but get interrupted by his light laugh.

Closing his hands, tipping his head down, you can tell he's going back and forth between principle and carnality.

"You're not my doctor or the county judge, you're the yoga guy - no offense."

"Non taken", he smiles, waving his hand. "And a judge I am not…"

•

His bulge is prominent against your body through his thin trousers, grinding with need as his plush lips finally get acquainted with yours in the same delicate way he always moves. When you push his t-shirt up, he happily pulls it over his head with a boyish smile before finding your lips again, the wooden beads of his necklace gracing your clavicle, a faint scent of incense in your nose.

"Let me please you first..?", he asks, putting his hand under your belly button. "It's important to pay attention to the Svadhishthana of women…"

"Chakra?", you ask, not really giving a damn about the answer.

"M-hm…", he nods, dragging his lips over yours before whispering "...sexuality."

His sexuality alone seems to be enough for him, you and the whole village, but of course you don't contest the methods of a yogi when he slides your pants off and pushes your legs open. His fingertips send shivers up your back as he runs them along the inside of your thighs, his calm exhale lowering his chest as he takes in the sight between your legs before bending down. Spreading your folds with his thumbs he starts with a shallow kiss - the divinely satisfying touch already drawing a faint moan from you - followed by a few precise licks before enveloping your clit with his supple mouth.

The sun warming your legs, his necklace softly bouncing against your cheeks, the sound of his lips and tongue moving on the wet surface… Only carefully do you place your fingers on his arm as he wraps it around your leg, wanting nothing to distract him, nothing to stop him. Yet he does.

Extending his breath, a soft hum in his throat giving away his eagerness, he looks at you and dips his fingers in his mouth before focusing back on your clit, sliding his fingers into you as if he already knows how you like it; push, push, pushing them in at a perfect pace to bring out your orgasm. You knew where he was taking you all along, but the sudden increase of pleasure nearly takes your breath away, leaving only short exhales filled with harsh breathing and subdued whines as you get closer.

He moans, savoring the taste of you, licking just over your entrance.

"Tell me if you don't wanna come now…"

"Don't stop… Don't stop..."

Holding his arm tighter to stop yourself from pushing his head down, his sticky fingers sliding against your walls, his tongue lays flat across your clit, rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, until the sweet electric spasms of your orgasm leaves you shaking into his mouth to his moaning pleasure.

•

Pulling your top off, as if it would help cool you down, you watch as he does the same; casually, as if you've done this a few times before, he pulls down his pants, the motion making his cock bounce. Coming doesn't mean you're done, something the image of him kneeling down, completely naked, is a reminder of.

After feeling for something in his bag he comes back with a condom and scoots you up on his lap, the muscles of his thighs flexing against your skin, his expression now devoid of all namaste, traded in for want.

This is the one time he's not fully engaged in your kisses - when his hands work to roll on the condom - but straight after, he presses you tightly against his body, sucking on your lips, palms on your breasts. A groan escapes him, sends him in a hurry to have you. Lifting his pelvis up, pushing you down, he groans again, then lies down, feathering his hands along your ribcage.

Just as one enjoys the sex leading up to the orgasm, Baekhyun takes his time savouring the unbridled need he previously tried so hard to restrain, finding satisfaction in stimulating his cock against your body with his rising hips, his breath full of excited abandon and thrill at knowing what he'll soon have.

Sliding his hand, lifting your cheek he groans in a sigh:

"This is so fucking unprofessional…", and slides his cock in you. "Ah..."

Moaning out hard with every thrust to stretch you out, his predicament washes away in an instant - a mere hazy memory while he fucks you with short, precise movements, giving the summer breeze outside a steady, wet beat to sing to.

Stretching up, arching, you let him roll his hips at his own pace, finding your own gratification in the broad chest rising under your hands, the firm push on your ass, his thick length effortlessly gliding in and out. Comfortably bewitched by him, holding his gaze comes naturally as he keeps toying with your deep sweet spot.

"Mmm… I can tell you'll do a beautiful Cobra…", he whispers cheekily in a moan, letting his hands glide over your cheeks.

Shaking your head you cover his mouth; he nibbles on your ring finger before swiping it away, trading it for rough kisses.

"Mh...ah...ahsh…" Trying to moan, kiss and talk at the same time, his burning breath flows into your mouth. "With your permission…"

"Mh, you've had it for three months…", you groan in his ear, feeling his hands on your waist.

"Oh, fuck."

His chest rises high as he teeters on the edge in his frenzied chase - collapses with his arms tightening around your back and neck as he sucks in hard, unevenly rounding his body against yours as he releases his cum.

•

"Did you honestly come here to teach..?"

"Honestly!", he laughs. "I mean, in the back of my mind I knew it wasn't the best id-"

"It was a great idea, Baekhyun…"

"Wasn't the most professional", he sighs, frowning half in jest.

"So when I pay you now, it'll be… Technically like I'm paying you for-", you start, but can't contain your laughter.

Neither can he, semi-objecting with eyes wide.

"We got at least ten minutes in. Say I have a high rate..."

"Damn high."

"It was worth it though?", he asks, slinging his bag over his head to hang across his torso.

"Hm, yeah, it was alright… Same time next week..?"

Yet again his gentle self, he kneels down behind you stroking your arms.

"Okay, sure", he agrees with a soft kiss on your neck. "But I really think you should treat your body more often than that."

[yeongwvnhi]

ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ᴬᵍᵃⁱⁿ

Pairing - Baekhyun x fem reader -> exes to lovers | Genre - Angst, fluff | warnings - none | taglist - @twancingyunhoe @trashlord-007 @tiddy-boys | synopsis - when Baekhyun and you broke things off a year ago, it felt alright, but you came to the painful realization that nobody could ever replace him or love you like he did | word count - 2.1k | thanks to @tiddy-boys for beta-reading ♡

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It's days like these, rain hitting the window in harsh taps and angry wind blowing, when the nostalgia hits the hardest. After all, you were always one to dwell on the past. It's just what you do. 

Every day felt the same after the two of you broke things off. You don't even remember why exactly you even ended it in the first place. The pain still sits deep, coming to haunt you when you least expect it. 

Rainy days like those just trigger the nostalgia, the memories and bygone feelings. 

It's 12pm when you check your phone, yet you're still laying in bed. The lack of motivation due to this sudden wave of sadness is something you're not experiencing for the first time. 

And it's killing you slowly. These feelings are eating you up from the inside out. 

Without even realizing, tears are running down your cheeks in even, salty streams. 

"Why am I even crying…" You mumble and lift your arm to cover your face, trying to make it stop. "God, I'm so pathetic" 

You try to manage to stop your tears, wrist harshly rubbing your eyes. After a minute or so, you succeed in stopping them. 

instead pick up your phone, unlocking it and opening Instagram. 

One peek won't hurt, right…? 

His name at the top of your searches seems to be mocking you as you hover your finger above it. Should you really do it? What if he found someone new and his profile is filled with couple pictures? Or what if he feels nothing and is glad to be alone? What if, what if, what if…

"Fuck it" you hiss and tap on his username, his profile popping up after a brief second of loading the page. 

He… hasn't posted anything for a few months, his last post being from October last year. 

Oh for fucks sake… is this a good sign or not? It could mean he's been seeing someone new, but it could also mean he's just been living his life like usual. 

So many possibilities, yet no resolution seems to be in sight. 

"This is so annoying, oh my gooood" You groan and smack your head into your pillow, laying sprawled out like a star with an annoyed pout on your face. 

"It's been a god damn year," You grumble, "why do I still feel like this?" 

The sound of your fist hitting the mattress of your bed is dull, not the way you wanted it to sound. "I hate this, UGHH" The frustration in your voice is for sure loud and clear, accentuated well by the 'ugh'. 

This whole situation is stressing you out. "I need a shower.." You mumble, absent-minded, as you fling the covers back and swing your legs over the edge of your bed. 

—

Despite the gloomy weather, you decided to take a walk outside. The rain still hasn't let up, droplets of it occasionally hitting your face. 

"Why is it so cold today? It's already spring…" You mumble quietly to yourself, eyes strictly trained on the path in front of your feet and head held low. 

You're so lost in your thoughts, you don't see the person headed your way. 

And apparently, the person doesn't seem to notice you as well. So your shoulders collide and you stumble, umbrella falling out of your hand and fast quick steps to regain your balance. 

"I'm so sorry! Are you al-" The man rushes to apologize, but his words get stuck in his throat as he takes in who he just, quite literally, stumbled into. 

Rain has hit you mercilessly, soaking you from head to toe within seconds as you stand there, paralyzed. "Baek…Baekhyun?" 

His eyes are wide and mouth slightly open in shock as he doesn't know what to say or do. 

He hasn't seen or talked to you in at least nine or ten months for sure. What is he even supposed to say? "Yeah… it's- it's surely been a while" he dumbly answers. "Ah! Your umbrella!" Baekhyun rushes to pick it up and hold it over your figure. 

But the damage is already done. 

You're shivering, dripping with water but still you've a tiny smile on your lips at the sight of him. 

You delicately take hold of the handle, fingers gently enclosing around the man's hand. 

He doesn't move to let go, just standing there and staring into your eyes. "I-" 

You cut him off by mistake with a sneeze, the cold creeping in deep. It feels like your bones might freeze, grasp around both Baekhyun's hand and the handle of your umbrella tightening, muscles contracting to desperately stay warm. "S-Sorry for interrupting you" You say, teeth clattering and eyes averting. 

"No no don't worry about it!" He insists, "but we should get you home, your hand is cold as ice, Y/N" 

"Ah… you're right" You nod and he flashes you a warm smile. 

"Do you still live in the same apartment or did you move?" Baekhyun asks, back to being concerned about your wellbeing now. 

"I- I still live in the same place" You reply, your free hand holding onto your jacket for warmth, but in vain. 

"That's too far away, my place is way closer" He objects and gently pulls you along, "come on, let's get you freshened up before you really get sick" 

You only manage an awkward nod and let him lead you along, a surprisingly pleasant silence engulfing you two. 

—

Baekhyun unlocks the door to his apartment and firstly puts both of your umbrellas away, taking off his wet shoes in the process and you follow along. 

"Come on, I'll show you the bathroom" He says and you tag after him. 

He opens the door, turns on the light and quickly pulls out two towels for you. "You can just use my shampoo, I don't have anything suitable here for you, sor-" 

"Thank you" you break his rambling. "You wouldn't need to do this, so thank you" 

Baekhyun smiles softly, although his eyes tell a different story. "I'll bring you some clothes in a bit, okay?" 

"Mhm" you nod and give him a curt bow before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

You waste no time in stepping out of your soaked clothes and into the shower. 

You set the water to a nice warm temperature and rinse off the cold first, feeling relieved. 

Then there's a knock. "Hey Y/N, I'm putting some clothes on top of the washing machine for you now" he announces before opening the door, doing as he said and then leaving just as quickly as he came. 

"Still the considerate guy he always was…" You mumble with a sad smile, old memories coming back to haunt your mind with sweet images of the two of you. Him always knocking before he'd enter a room you would be in to announce himself. 

You loved that about him, he was always mindful of others and you're happy to see it hasn't changed at all. 

—

You finished quickly and put on the clothes he gave you. Some boxers and a way too big on you, black shirt. You dried your hair as best as you could with the towel he gave you and made sure you don't look like a lion by patting down your hair a bit. 

"Baekhyun?" You timidly call out after opening the door a bit. 

"Yeah?" He replies and you hear his footsteps approach. "What is it?" 

"Uhm- Where to put my wet clothes?" You ask. 

"Oh- Hold on, I'll put them in the washing machine" He says with big eyes and opens the machine for you to put them in. "I'll dry them after they're washed so you can change back, alright?" 

You nod quickly and thank him quietly. He opens the machine and you put your clothes inside, him doing the rest. 

"So, uh-" 

"Do you want some water?" He quickly asks, ears flaring red as he avoids your eyes. 

"Sure" you squeak back and follow him into the kitchen. He gets a glass out of a cupboard and fills it with water before handing it to you. 

You nip at the liquid as Baekhyun leans against the countertop adjacent to you, eyes taking in your figure. 

He missed seeing you in his clothes, you always looked so good in them. He just missed you in general. 

The reason why the two of you broke up a year ago? 

Baekhyun remembers it all too well. 

It was a work related thing actually. The two of you worked in different shifts and barely saw each other, yet alone had time for any couple stuff. 

Free days? Spent alone or arguing about never seeing each other. 

And at one point you had said to just break up. In that moment Baekhyun felt like he was hit by lightning, body stiff and eyes wide. He couldn't believe what he heard. Baekhyun felt anxiety cursing through his veins as his brain processed your words.

You had told him that you wouldn't hate him, but that your situation at that time just didn't allow any dating. The two of you never had hard feelings about the outcome, but it was hard to suddenly go back to being alone. 

And now you're here, in his apartment, wearing his clothes and smelling just like him. He can't believe this is happening. 

"Uhm, so" You speak up after setting the glass down on the other counter behind you. Your hands come up to grab the surface besides your waist and you avoid the man's eyes. 

"Yes?" Baekhyun can't help the hopeful hint in his voice as he urges you to continue your thoughts. 

"How has life been for you?" 

A chuckle escaped his lips at your question, shoulders jumping up and down in the process before he answered. "It's been rather boring but nice, if you get what I mean? I found a different job and work from home now" 

You nod quietly, "I've also found a new job and my shifts are less hectic" 

"Have you… found someone new?" 

You halt at his inquiry, gears in your mind temporarily stopping and he seems to take the lacking answer the wrong way. A frown pulls at his normally friendly and soft expression, making him look grumpy and bothered. "I see" 

"No, no! I- I haven't found anyone!" You quickly say, "I just… I couldn't move on" 

His expression changes to a sad smile, although he's kind of glad you're still somehow his. "Me neither" 

You scoff lightly, a cheeky smirk suddenly on your face. "No wonder, nobody could put up with your annoying ass anyway" 

"Hey!" He exclaims in shock. 

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" You insist, holding your stomach and laughing. "You're bearable most of the time" 

"That doesn't make it any better!" Baekhyun whines and you laugh out loud, hand flying up to cover your mouth. 

"Still the cocky little girl you've always been" He fires back and you snort. 

"Like you're one to talk" You roll your eyes at him and he exhales through his nose. 

His hands grab you by the collar of his shirt you're wearing and unexpectedly pull you into him. You squeal, hands shooting up to brace against his broad chest and you look up to be met by his cocky smile. "You never knew when to stop, no change at all there" he playfully nags. 

"Shut up" You weakly fight back. 

Baekhyun chuckles and you feel the rumble drumming against the palms of your hands. "How come you haven't moved on?" 

You lower your head, hands fumbling with his shirt. "Well… I came to the conclusion that just nobody could replace you. Nobody could love me like you did…" You mumble against his chest and Baekhyun feels a smile creeping up on his face. 

"I felt the same" He whispers back and his arms move to pull you into him more by your waist. 

After hearing that, you look back up at him with big eyes. "Really?" 

He nods and flashes you a bright smile. "Even though we fought a lot and barely had time for each other, I never stopped loving you" 

"Shut up" You almost whimper and move your hands to pull him closer by the back of his neck, lips meeting in the middle. 

Baekhyun's eyes almost fell out of their sockets before he came to his senses. 

One of his hands found its place on the back of your head as he moved his lips against yours with fervor. He greedily breathes you in, not wanting this to end as moves his mouth against yours. 

You shiver when his tongue meets yours and that's when you draw the line… for now. 

He chases after you for a second and you chuckle, dazed eyes meeting yours. "Slow down tiger" you say and peck the corner of his mouth. 

"Okay, okay" He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "will you let me love you again?" 

"You bet" 

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 12

the Darkling x Reader

The hour was late as the stars basked in the darkness and cold winter air. The fire roared in its hearth while your still steaming cup of sleep-aiding tea sat untouched on the small table. Your talk with Alina earlier was the cause of your unrest. You didn't know whether to feel sorry for her or be frustrated with her. She is a lovely girl, most pure and kind and quite literally the definition of sunshine, but something about her irked you and you hated it.

Maybe it was her somewhat unhealthy obsession with her friend, the tracker- Malyen Oretsev, or the sheer denial and lack of understanding of her position. Sure, Mal was the only thing that tied her to her old life, a sense of home, but he didn't belong anywhere near the Little Palace and posed a threat to Alina's true potential. She should understand that, no doubt it's been explained to her many times. She was no longer a random girl from the First Army or a Child of Keramzin, she was the Sun-Summoner and had to act the part.

But there was also a nagging feeling in you since your last words with Aleksander, the ones about the stag. From what you could gather, Alina definitely wasn't power-hungry, not yet anyway, and placing an antler anywhere on her would be against her wishes. You knew deep down that whatever he had planned would go far beyond just giving her an amplifier for her sake.

You sighed and moved around on the armchair again, trying to convince yourself those were the reasons you couldn't sleep, that Alina's position in this mess was why your mind wouldn't shut off, but who were you kidding, it was her and him. For starters, she called Aleksander by his name. The second the word left her mouth, your blood ran cold.

__

'Is he not here?' Alina looked to you from over her mug, eyes scanning the room.

'Who?'

'Aleksander, is he away at Kribirsk again?' Your smile faltered and your grip on your own mug loosened. But Alina waited for an answer.

'Oh umm, I don't know.' You did but the shock caused your mind to blank completely.

__

You had known Aleksander for years before he even told you his true name, you had to earn it. She spoke of her General with a fondness, at one point even speaking of him as if he were more than just her commanding officer.

__

'Do you miss the First Army Alina? I know you left friends behind, not just Mr.Oretsev.'

'I suppose I don't feel at home just yet, it's a lot to take in, this whole division of orders thing doesn't help either... But he assures me I am not alone, that I have an equal in the Palace.'

An equal?

__

The heat of the fire was doing nothing to calm down your rising rage. Apparently Aleksander was doing more talking with Alina than you'd thought, even sacrificing his own true name, one only spoken by you and his mother, for her to utter as if it was just another name. So what if you were in his chambers, making use of his office and sleeping in his bed, he clearly had his eyes on two prizes or maybe just one.

You felt sick now, be it from the heat or the anger, you got up and opened a window. The cold and dark night was a stark contrast to the licks of the flame. It made you feel at peace, but only momentarily. You heard voices outside, slowly growing louder. You rested your head against the wall, begging for one last moment of stillness, but alas the door was yanked open and his boots echoed throughout the room. You cursed yourself for deciding to spend another night in his quarters. You thought he'd be gone longer than just 4 days.

'I do hope you made yourself comfortable' His voice was as smooth as the kvas you had downed after Alina left. You wanted to turn around, but the anger was still there and all hell would break loose if you let your emotions run wild again.

'I did thank you. At least you have a desk'

'I'll get you one first thing in the morning'

'No need, I already requested one' Your voice was void of any emotion. Don't start a fight.

'Are you alright?'

'Just tired, being diplomatic is hard work' It sure was right now.

'Might I suggest actually getting into bed then?' His hand slowly came around your wrist and pulled you in the direction of the bedroom but ironically at the simple touch, your anger grew, when it usually has the opposite effect. You saw out of the corner of your eye that he had a genuine smile on his face, one that tended to make you melt but not now. You shrugged him off and walked in the direction of the door, leaving him utterly confused.

'Y/N what's going on.

'I'm tired, I'm going to bed' You tried so hard to act normal, not in any way pissed.

'Y/N look at me'

'Goodnight Aleksander' You couldn't help it, the mockery of his name just came out. There goes the diplomacy.

You heard him quickly walk towards you and tried to get to the door first to escape the tense atmosphere you created but he got there first, blocking your way.

'What?' You threw your hands up in exasperation not yet looking at him.

'Did something happen whilst I was away?'

'No'

'Then what is it'

'Nothing'

'Don't lie to me Y/N'

'Oh but it's okay for you to lie to me' Your eyes finally bore into his.

'Excuse me?' His expression read baffled; annoyed; pissed.

'Move away from the door Aleksander'

'No! You're going to be mature and have an actual conversation with me for once' He asked for it.

'Alright fine, Let's start with Alina''

'Y/N'

'I had a lovely little tea party with her today. Sweet thing. She loves to talk once you get her going. She told me a lot of fascinating stuff, including your name! How interesting don't you think.' Your voice was so cold it even made you shiver.

'I can explain'

'I'm not finished.' You felt that pull in you, that pull that comes before you put your fire or shadows to use but crammed it down with all your might. 'Her best friend hasn't been replying to any of her letters and I can recount there are many of them. Guess what I found in one of your drawers? They are all very poetic don't you think? I'm all for helping her adjust, but that's not help, that's manipulation Aleksander.'

'She won't let him go, It's dragging her down.' He said through gritted teeth.

'Dragging her down or away?' The double meaning in your words didn't go unnoticed by him.

'Y/N all I want to do is go to bed right now, I've had a long day, please.' His hand reached out for yours but you scoffed and moved away.

'You wanted to have this conversation, General, don't shy away when your actions are questioned.'

'Fine' He unblocked the door and crossed the room, throwing his cloak and kefta on the floor with a heavy thud. 'Is there anything else you wish to accuse me of Y/N dearest?'

'Look at you, so bitter but I haven't heard you deny any of it'

'You may go now if you like.' He picked up a decanter of whiskey and poured himself a generous glass

'Since when are you this childish Aleksander. Have I missed something in my 100-year absence?' You mocked.

'You left me with all of this' He gestured to the palace. '-That's what happened.'

'Don't turn this around on me, and I told you that wasn't a choice.'

'The Y/N I knew would have come back and not hid like a coward'

You stilled and waited for any sign of apology, but it never came. He meant it even though he knew how much such a simple statement would hurt you. You turned slowly and walked to the door.

'While I'm gone, at least have the common decency to change the sheets before you bring Alina in here' you shut it loudly behind you and heard the breaking of the glass, no doubt thrown at the door as you were leaving.

What a day.

Taglist

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @0-artemis @lostysworld @xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @patdsinner33 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl @exo-1204 @houseofdupree @oberonpascal @eireduchess

Ok so idk if people can see this but I posted this like a week ago and apparently nobody seen it so here it is!!!!

Part 13

Here's my masterlist!!

[roanniee]

SO.

Let's try this again🤸🏻

Also Idil vibes strong on this one. I can't say Gil bc Gil calls Ate Sel smth specific like she does with me.

Ship the @mythos-blogs Crew

ps. here's the server <3

@admiringlove

Baby Sam is very hard working and focused on whatever she's doing that sometimes, she forgets to take care of herself. So, I see Sugawara Koushi with her perfectly, someone caring and understanding, but knows better than to let her overwork and tells her when enough is enough. The both of you do struggle with a few things, and when you fight or have insecure moments, you sit down to talk about it instead of shouting at each other. Overall, a really good match I say.

Baby Sam also kins Oikawa and I ship Oikawa hardcore with Suga LMAO

@ninjamomo

Me. That's my wife <333

Okay but for realsies. I ship Idil with Bokuto Koutarou. Bokuto and Idil would be just... soft love. I see dancing in the rain, bathtub relaxation hours together and cuddling in bed. Idil knows that Bokuto is a busy man, and Bokuto knows he is a busy man. But that doesn't mean that they were gonna let the relationship go. Oh no. Those two will hold on like a cat with his claws on the couch. A really really soft, supportive and strong love.

@tooru-luvs

I actually had a hard time with Ms. Zizi. See, I haven't interacted with her much. But, based on the interactions of hers that I see on my tl, I can see that she is very playful but also can be serious. Hence, why I say that she'd be amazing with Kuroo Tetsurou. Kuroo is playful and an overall gremlin, but he's very caring ang knows exactly when to be serious and how serious. He'll help her with anything he can help her with, but he also knows when no to because it's something Zizi needs to do for herself. Likewise, Zizi knows when to be cheery to make Kuroo smile, but also when to sit and talk to Kuroo about a delicate matter. They'd both ground each other, while matching the same playful energy.

@rokudaddie

HEY I CAN TAG HER NOW KSKSKS

ME ME ME ME ME

anyways hehe. Gly. Lovely, sweet, Gly. She's very caring, but my god does she also enjoy chaos. Hence, I'm putting her with Hoshiumi Korai. We all know Hoshiumi is a little gremlin with a heart of gold. The way these two are together would be immaculate. They're chaos together, but even with all the chaos, they have time to look at the other to make sure they're okay. PLUSSS! Hoshiumi will always unconsciously be touching Gly, just to make sure that she's there. Gly would unconsciously make sure that Hoshiumi is in her peripheral vision too.

@moonlit-island

Ooooh Raya! Raya is so damn sweet and caring and uplifting. I love her sm. Hehehe anyway I ship her with Tsukishima Kei. The Tarot cards said so, and so did the zodiac signs. SKSKS Anyway! Yes, a really good match. Raya's got a really good head on her shoulders, but I see her watching all the chaos from the sidelines, much like Tsukishima. When they're together, they'd start the chaos and then sit back and eat popcorn as they watch the world burn.

@laineeey00

Ate Laine? Some will definitely say Kita, because it's Ate Laine, but I say Hirugami Sachiro. Hirugami would be such a good man for Ate Laine. I imagine them sitting down in the living room, books spread out on the table. Just silence while studying, but every now and then, one of them would look up to look at the other, smile and then return back to what they were doing. Ate Laine makes sure that Hirugami takes breaks and Hirugami makes sure that Ate Laine isn't stressing so much. Just so cute honestly.

@betheydocrimewrites

Ah, Adult Sam. Hmmm. Adult Sam is a whirlwind of chaos and sweet, sweet angst. I definitely see them with darling Yamaguchi Tadashi. I see them in bed, Sam on his laptop, and him just hugging them tight when something they were writing was choking them up. But, Sam is just overall an amazing person that they deserve someone so sweet and caring like Yamaguchi. Obvi, it is reciprocated, and I see such a sweet love in the works.

@melsun

Oooh. Alice.

Melian and Matsukawa Issei would make a very interesting pairing. Both independent yet still co-dependent on each other. Melian knows how to calm Matsukawa after a tough day at work, and Matsukawa knows how to keep Melian from stressing. Matsukawa would also hype Melian up so much?? Like any outfit Melian wears, Matsukawa's right there telling them how good and amazing they look and how well they matched the outfit up. Honestly, just a very functional household and I love that.

@lovemeian

oh oof Lavi. I want to say Meian but for reasons I cannot disclose, I won't say that for now. I will say though, that she will be so good with Dabi. Lavi has a few things she needs to work on, and Dabi is always there for her. Actually lbr, they both have issues to work on, but I feel like together, they'd overcome that. I feel like they'd?? Actually be so understanding of each other that it shocks and confuses others bc?? hello it's Dabi?? but yes, a really good match.

@writewithmarites

Me <3

Severus Snape. Ate Tes is chaotic. I'm sorry but her default in the server is chaos, especially with the bot around HAHAHAHA but anyway! Severus would be so good to ground Ate Tes, keep her from getting a little too chaotic BUT ALSO, he can help her when she's not taking care of herself. She also helpes him with his potions, and it makes the job easier on him. But of course, Severus is a slytherin, and most of the time he'd be the one inciting the chaos and we just don't know it. Anyway, Ate Tes is honestly so wonderful and I love her sm and she deserves someone to tame like the serious, bratty, angsty Severus Snape. <333

@saudade-mayari

ME. AGAIN LMAO. <3

ANYWAY

Nozel Silva. Nozel and Ate Sel. Oh gosh what a thought. Nozel is....arrogant, prideful, and he sees himself as someone more important than others. But, the man does know respect and he does care for people, especially Ate Sel. I have no doubts that Ate Sel can make that man kneel and follow her wishes, but I also know that Ate Sel would not let this man get away with his arrogance and pride. Nozel cares for her a lot. She's his partner, the carrier of the future of House Silva, and the only one that has caught his attention. He loves her, and that man would drop nearly everything for her.

@risumu

Eris! Eribabe and Ojiro Aran. Idek why. But the vibes would be so immaculate. I see road trips and early morning dancing in the kitchen to an indie song one of them is hyperfixated on. I also see late night walks to the convenience store, holding hands and just silence? Basking in each other's prescence. Eris definitely steals Aran's sweaters to the point that Aran buys two of his sizes so he can interchange them. One to give to Eris when the one she took doesn't smell like him anymore. Love all over the place.

@sunarent

Mel. That's it.

Okay but also, I see Iwaizumi Hajime. I was thinking about Suna but the more I think back about the things I know about Ali and our interactions, I see Iwa. I feel like they'd understand each other so much. And the love isn't seen much, not because they don't love each other, but because it's something they need to say really. It's more shown in the touches and kisses and cuddling. They know that they love each each other, and that's enough for them.

@tetsvhoe

Honestly I want to say Kuroo but.

Kozume Kenma. Gwennie works so hard and stresses so much. Her sleeping sched is unavailable lmao. Kenma would be so good for her because he knows how it is, to be stressed and not have an actual sleeping sched. I feel like they'd be good together. In all honesty, they'd probably take care of each other more than they would themselves but no one is complaining really.

@slutbench

MY BABYYYY. MY DAUGHTER. I LOVE YOU SM AND I SWEAR I'M NOT MAD.

I ship you with...

Azumane Asahi. Why? Because you remind me of Noya sometimes. Very energetic, a little bit of low moments and just a ball of sunshine in general. Asahi is perfect for you, Mija. He'd be able to just connect with her in ways others just don't understand. People would say that Asahi is too...soft? They'd say someone like Daicho or maybe Bokuto would be better for you, Mija, but really, he's perfect. Asahi and Gil. He balances her out in so many ways, even if no one else can see it.

@ushisrever

NIA!

Ushijima Wakatoshi. Really, the two of them are perfect. Stoic, quiet, can be chaotic. Very protective, even if the two deny it. Nia, you and Ushi are like...pillars? Support? Quiet, unmovable, but still, everyone knows you're both there, and you don't really leave people's minds. I see the two feeding off of each other's energy, especially when it comes to protecting others that they care about. (Looking at you, Lavi) I see hours where it's just her watching him playing in the background and he just looks at her, smiles, and then goes back to playing. It's really cute.

@sumebreaks

MAIA! HI! We haven't interacted much, I'm so sorry for that sweets. bUT BUT BUT!!!!

You're so sweet and caring and loving??? I really see you with Miya Atsumu! I see Tsumu bugging you to take a break and give him attention. BUT! I also see you?? Bugging him, telling him to get off the court or he's sleeping on the couch HAHAHA I feel like you two really just? Connect. Both playful, both caring, both are busy with their own things so there's not too much expectations that cannot be met for now. Idk I really see a love that's always there, no matter how busy they get.

@vindictivtsumu

AAAAAH DEVON HUN!

I love Devon and their writing so much??? Omg. Yknow who would be amazing with them? Akaashi Keiji. Akaashi is very articulate and just overall book smart in my opinion, and I see that him and Devon would fit so well. He is Devon's personal beta reader HAHAHAH BUT!!!!! Devon also watches Akaashi edit and points out anything that he missed. I see days when they're just sitting there, talking softly to each other that the sound of typing was louder. But that's okay bc you both are content and happy and in love.

@ricflairdrip20

I just met you not even 24 hours ago hehehe HIIII

I will not lie.

I asked for help from Ate Sel HAHAHHAHA

But!!!! She says Ukai Keishin, and honestly I see it. The nsfw-rp channel is the reason why and I'm not saying more HAHAHAHA I see nights when it's Keishin and her just? Idk having fun and being kids bc lbr that man can be a kid sometimes. I also see them taking care of each other in unconventional ways, ways that would not be okay for others, but it's her love language with him. V v v domestic.

I HOPE Y'ALL MYTHOS CREW LIKED THAT MATCHING UP BYE