#anyways will never recover it’s a gorgeous show

[bajablastflavoredsaxreed]

i cannot stop thinking about the bluecoats 2014 tilt

[aureatchi]

⋆ ✦ ˚｡⋆ THIS SUMMER NIGHT WE FIND SCATTERED DREAMS, I ONCE AGAIN RUN IN THE STARLIGHT ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, sigma.

— what it’s like to stargaze with them. (& more)

a/n. sadly, i have yet to see the aurora borealis and in general, seldom get to see the stars. (light pollution my no.1 enemy !!) but a girl can dream :) (& distract herself from the latest bsd chapters..)

info. fem!reader. fluff. soft everyone lol. some of them are nerds & ramble abt stars. :) + a little poetic. mentions of greek mythology. kissing. buildup to actual topic. profanities in chuuya’s & he may or may not use sskk to help. bsd manga/ability spoilers in fyodor’s.

DAZAI : so in this instance, i’d be perseus, and you’d be andromeda. — he listens to everything you have to say.

Your palm in his, the brunette’s pretty fingers wrapped around yours. He softly massaged your hand as you began telling him, your starstruck lover a story under the show of constellations. It had formed into a little routine since the first time you stargazed with him as a date.

“There was this princess,” you started. “Princess Andromeda. She was a very beautiful woma-”

“You’re more beautiful, though,” Dazai interrupted. You didn’t even get in two complete sentences without his commentary. You sat a bit awestruck while he delivered a kiss to your hand.

“Continue, bella,” big brown eyes teased you.

You hastily recovered. “…She was beautiful. And her mother—Queen Cassiopeia—who was very prideful, decided to brag to Poseidon, the Greek god of the seas, that she was prettier than his daughters.”

“I mean, that’s understandable. I brag about you all the time! Why shouldn’t the pretty girl be shown off?”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, reminiscing over the times the detective had shown you off. Whenever you decided to visit the Armed Detective Agency’s office with Dazai, Kunikida would never hear the end of it. When you two went out to eat, he would flatter your name away. “This gorgeous girl would like to order…” “May I please get a table for the angelic lady and I?”

He never failed to fluster you.

“Anyway, Poseidon got angry and decided to send a sea monster to destroy their kingdom. The only way the monster could be pacified was if it could devour Andromeda.”

“A damsel in distress,” Dazai nodded and then dramatically pretended like he was the helpless princess on the ocean. He completely pulled over the blanket the two of you were sharing, using it as a cape—“Someone save me! I’m going to be eaten by a sea monster!”

“‘Samu! I’m cold!”

“Ah, sorry. Perhaps you are the princess, and you need saving from this icy night!” He rewrapped the blanket over your shoulder.

“Stop interrupting me; I’m trying to tell you something!” It was nowhere near icy, but your lover proved his dramaticism even further when a tuft of brown hair grazed your shoulder. He had rested his head on you.

“Oka-ay—sorry, continue!”

“Meanwhile, Perseus—I told you last time, the man who killed Medusa—found Andromeda while flying over with his horse, Pegasus. He immediately fell in love with her, so he slayed the sea monster and rescued her from the rock she was chained to.”

“What a hero,” Dazai said. “So they lived happily ever after?”

“Not yet. Perseus asked Andromeda’s father for permission to marry her but discovered she was already set to marry someone else. And the man she was engaged to got angry that Perseus wanted to marry her.”

“Of course,” he sighed, which puzzled you a bit, but you’d return to his comment later. “I’m rooting for Perseus, though.”

“Well, good for you because the two fought, and Perseus won by showing the other guy Medusa’s head.”

Dazai chuckled. “Nice move! He turned his enemy into his trophy. Imagine if we did that to all our enemies!”

“I think then we’d have a whole army of statues,” you laughed. “But now, he and Andromeda married, and they were able to live happily ever after.

“The gods placed them in the sky so their story would be remembered eternally.” Finished with your recount, you gazed up at the stars.

“The North Star,” you pointed, and when you saw the brunette’s bronze eyes squint, trying to see what you were talking about, you moved closer until you were halfway on his lap.

You took his palm in yours and guided it to a single star.

“That one. All the characters’ constellations I mentioned in the story revolve around that star. Perseus with his sword, Andromeda flying on Pegasus...”

“Huh? That’s the North Star? Isn’t it supposed to be the brightest in the sky or something?” It didn’t stand out from the rest as much as he thought.

You giggled. “That’s a myth, ‘samu. It’s funny you didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I never really had time to appreciate and learn about something so peaceful like nature until now.” He turned to you.

“Until you.”

You weren’t sure how, but it was almost as if the moonlight had carved out his pretty face. Ethereal, you had called the moon, and it reflected in your lover’s features. His eyes took in the charm of the millions of lights in the night and synthesized the feeling to bring it back to you.

“If I were one of the gods, I would’ve created a whole galaxy reflecting your soul.”

In the midst of terror and chaos, the detective’s eyes revolved around humans and their violence rather than around the sun and the planets. Eyes and soul—how else could he focus on anything else when that’s all life showed him?

“Because I see the constellations in you—Andromeda, Pegasus, Carina, Orion…” it had been a few months, and throughout you had shown and told him all the stories behind the stars in the sky.

“And now I can stop to smell the flowers, love. I can watch the Ursa Minor, even if I still find it hard to sleep.” You were the bridge to his bronze gaze and iron marrow—you showed him that you were human, but that a heart could really exist without violence or malice.

I see a reason why the nebulas are placed as they are, even if stories are just stories. I see a reason I’m here. With you.

He sealed the thought with a kiss to your lips, under the celestial moon and the heavens’ watch.

You always wondered why Dazai paid such close attention whenever you started rambling—initially, you didn’t think he’d care that much about tales of space. But you understood him a bit better now, his complex heart. You held onto him a bit tighter to him as you kissed him back.

…

“Oh yeah. What did you mean when you said ‘of course,’ when I started talking about Perseus having to fight over another guy for Andromeda?”

And Dazai was his lighthearted self once again.

“We’re definitely Andromeda and Perseus in another universe,” Dazai winked. “You’ve always deserved to be treated like a princess! I would totally save you from a sea monster. And I’d be an equestrian if I could too—even better, a flying one!”

“Sure…”

“C’mon, bella, you see me at those horse-racing events all the time! Anyway, most important of all, I had to fight for you. Such a tough world when every other man is also at your feet.” He crossed his arms. “Having Medusa’s head would’ve made things so much easier! I really would’ve had a whole army of stone statues if I did.”

“No, you really didn’t need it at all,” you replied, laughing at Dazai, who was now pouting.

“Osamu the demigod: slayer of monsters or not, I only have eyes for you.” You kissed him on the cheek.

“Unlike Andromeda, I wouldn’t let two men fight over me and marry the one who wins.

“I would just choose you right away.”

CHUUYA : babydoll, you’re worth more than all those stars combined. — he only gives you the best.

“Ah, that’s unfortunate. Thank you for informing me, though,” you said before hanging up the phone.

You didn’t sue them on the line, albeit irritated. Tonight, you were supposed to have a date with Chuuya at one of the fancy restaurants he somehow discovered more of in the city when you thought you finally visited them all, but your reservations were cancelled last minute.

“Hey, princess,” the handsome ginger said when you phoned him next. You could sense a smile through his words on the other end.

“What’s up?”

“Weird-ass restaurant cancelled our plans,” you said. “Not even a refund.”

Chuuya quickly picked up on the disappointment in your voice, and he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t get his money back. Money was nothing—he was a Port Mafia executive. Stacks of bills piled into his hands every day, and he quietly flexed on it through his collection of wine in the cellar, his clothes, and gifts to you.

What he wasn’t wealthy in was time. It had been almost a month since Chuuya had any free time—the boss had been overworking him amidst never-ending Yokohama mayhem. His large penthouse actually proved to be a disadvantage when you were the only one staying in it. It was too empty; it was too quiet for a home, there was an awkward gap in the bed you slept in.

“It’s okay, baby,” came Chuuya’s voice reassuringly. “Don’t worry ‘bout some shitty-ass restaurant.

“Meet me home at the rooftop at the time we originally planned.”

“…Alright,” you replied, unsure of what he was going to do, but you were grateful anyway that you’d get to spend time with him.

“And get ready too, like we originally planned,” he added, and this time, you could imagine the smugness in his smile. “See ya soon.”

…

The bell chimed as the elevator approached the top of Chuuya’s apartment, signaling that you reached the rooftop.

“Chuu?” you called out as the doors opened. He was nowhere to be found—instead a pathway of candles and a trail of rose petals leading to the other side.

Your heels clicked on the ground as you slowly followed the course. It was dark towards the back of the rooftop, but the front overlooked the entire city of Yokohama.

Another quiet flex.

“Hey, beautiful.” You noticed him before the lively city behind him, before the romantic scene he had set up—the path of petals expanded into scattering around the table Chuuya was sitting at. He was dressed up too—looking as attractive as ever.

“The Nakahara Restaurant,” you hummed, taking a seat in front of him. “Not bad.”

Chuuya smirked. “Not bad? We get Michelin stars, baby. Trust me.”

You giggled. “I don’t know about that, Chuu. You’ll have to prove it to me.” It was like you had turned the tables on him. Usually, he only deemed a restaurant good if you were pleased with the food.

“Alright.” Now, you were going to rate his. You could tell he was going to enjoy this.

“You hungry?”

You nodded.

With a snap of Chuuya’s fingers, you immediately heard footsteps scurrying toward the two of you.

Two young men, one with raven hair until silver tips and the other with an entirely silver head—you realized they were waiters from who knows where—approached you with a dish.

“Appetizers by Executive Nakahara,” the first one said.

“Wait—did you cook everything too?”

“Duuh, you take this for a fraud or something?” Chuuya failed to hide the pride on his face.

…

The appetizer, entrée, and dessert proved delicious, and you were forced to eat your previous words.

He was talented in just about everything.

Chuuya kicked the two ‘waiters’ out of his house after dessert was served, leaving the two of you finally alone. The candlelight amid the dark sky enveloped your figures in an intimate glow.

“I would’ve been fine with even just takeout,” you laughed after taking a sip out of your wine glass.

He smiled. “As if. It’s a special night, doll, we finally have time to see each other again.”

“Exactly! Seeing you is what matters most,” you said.

“Anyway, thank you, Chuu. I appreciate this so much. And I guess you’re right—you earn a Michelin Star from me.”

Chuuya looked towards the city below you and back. “Didn’t doubt it one bit. But that’s not the only stars we’re getting tonight.”

You looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get shocked.”

Your lover snapped again—you picked up a slight difference in it this time compared to the previous times he signaled—and suddenly, Yokohama went dark.

You didn’t know how, but the city’s electricity had completely cut off at the mafia executive’s command.

“Chuu—?”

“You’re not looking the right way.”

You had been staring at the pitch-black buildings below in fazed awe, but it seemed to have switched places with the skies as now, small scattered lights began to fade in when you looked up, your eyes adjusting to the dark.

“Chuu!” You stood up in excitement. “We can see stars! In Yokohama!”

The ginger chuckled before pulling out a folded comforter from under the table. “Here, it’s better this way. Now this is what the wine was really for.”

…

Chuuya had fixed the comforter on the rooftop and pulled out a few pillows so that you were able to lie down and watch above more comfortably.

“I did this a lot when I stayed in Paris for a bit,” he said, explaining how he got the idea. “But the lights stayed on 24/7 there, too, so I had to use a telescope.”

You looked at him thoughtfully. “We could’ve done that too. You really startled everyone just for this.”

As if on cue, you suddenly heard someone shout in the distance, going “Hey! Who the hell turned off all the lights?!” You and Chuuya both snorted.

“Just for you,” he corrected. “I think this is better anyway. They can handle one night without power. And I made sure the hospitals and other important establishments stayed untouched.”

It was crazy how much power the man had. “Not entirely evil then,” you said.

“Yeah, plus I was also really aiming at that restaurant that tried ruining our plans,” Chuuya smirked.

You looked back at the stars and then Chuuya again, who hadn’t taken his cerulean eyes off your face.

You lay together to gaze at the stars. But instead of those, he was looking at you.

You couldn’t stop the flurry of coyness you got. He looked absolutely stunning under the heavens—it was almost unfair. It would be if you weren’t the one who got to see him in such a state. He looked mesmerized—mesmerized with you?

“Hey, you’re going to miss it if you keep staring at me,” you said.

“I’m seeing you and those galaxies for the first time in a while,” Chuuya replied. “I think I’d rather watch you.”

He kissed you while you were still smiling, causing him to grin, too. You felt light and safe around him and the blankets, and he felt the same. All aggression and stress ceased from his head, healed by you and the moonlight.

“Y’can name stars after people too, right?” he asked when you pulled back. “I swear, I’m going to make the next scientist who discovers one name it after you. It’d be way better than those random shitty names they give nowadays.”

FYODOR : i have the cosmos mapped out, likewise your soul. — you alone, he adores.

There was not a word said as you got into the passenger seat of the car that Fyodor was driving. He had left a note earlier that day—Zolotse, you’re coming with me on a mission tonight. Prepare what you need and bring the sleeping bags, and you had done so with little hesitation.

The sun had already gone down, but you were used to this. Initially, you had thought his job the opposite of himself—the demon was called to bizarre places sporadically and had to adapt to their settings in a short amount of time. You only realized after being with him for a while that he planned these things beforehand, and he planned them long ago.

The job was made for him—his little game of fate and chess.

He drove for around four hours straight. In that time, you had put on your favorite music, and talked with him about the usual—your latest philosophical obsession, anything interesting about his latest endeavors—you hadn’t realized you had gotten so far away from civilization.

Fyodor must’ve become nocturnal from all the time he’d spent in the dark, because it was pitch-black in all directions when he finally parked the car and you stepped out.

And only then you finally asked him. “Fedya, where are we?”

He didn’t respond, instead going to the back of the car and opening the trunk, handing you your sleeping bag and a flashlight.

You flipped the switch on, trying to scan the surroundings for any hint of where this journey took you.

“Darling, you’re quite naïve,” Fyodor said as you looked down at rocks and twigs below your shoes. “I’m concerned about how easily you agreed to let someone drive you hours out into the wilderness.”

“I’d do it only for you,” you replied, giggling. “I trust you.” Alas, he had answered your question, though you still didn’t know what he was here for.

“Follow me. We have a bit of hiking to do.”

…

A secret hideout? Meeting spot? Something valuable hidden here? Your mind came up with countless reasons why your lover’s current mission took place on a mountain and how he could even navigate without a map. The entire thing was strange—you hadn’t even seen him take any valuables of some kind besides a tent and his own sleeping bag.

The walk-up was a bit tedious. Thankfully, you wore the right shoes and had eaten well beforehand, but you still didn’t expect you would be partaking in exercise so late at night. It was also hard to see, the flashlights scarcely making a difference.

You came across a very steep hill; it was almost like you had to climb rather than hike up.

“Apologies for the inconvenience,” you heard Fyodor from above as he went first to ensure each step was safe. “It’ll be worth it later.”

“Ah-” You hardly had time to ponder his statement when you misstepped on a loose twig, causing you to slip. However, a hand reached to tightly grab you before you slid down.

“Careful, milaya.”

Fyodor kept your hand clasped in his throughout the rest of the trek. You finally reached a large clearing by the edge of a cliff—devoid of trees and hard bedrock.

“We’re here.”

He began setting up the tent while you looked around. There was nothing at all out of the ordinary—nothing suspicious for the demon to use. Were you really here just to camp?

“The goal: your eyes to adjust.”

Fyodor had finished and had been looking at you for some time—smiling, at the way your brows furrowed and how you were still lost with this entire night.

“What-?” you asked as he walked over to take your sleeping bag. You followed him as he set it right next to his.

“Sit next to me, lyubov,” he said, guiding you down. “I’ll tell you the secret to getting directions up here.”

He tilted his head up, and for the first time, you noticed an entire galaxy before you.

…

Drenched under the vastness of the dark skies and lights of the stars, Fyodor began to speak.

“We’ve used star navigation for thousands of years,” he said. “Fifty-eight stars and thirty-eight constellations that we’re able to use, but you only need to locate the Ursa Major to find north and Orion to find west.”

You nodded. Perhaps this is what he had come here to do—find directions to something that no GPS or technology recorded. He had probably taken you along just because he thought you’d admire the view and how you did. Fyodor was right—the walk-up was worth this view.

It was like you were in a trance. You had seen stars, but nothing like this before. The entire Milky Way galaxy was visible to your eyes, countless little suns that seemed barely out of your grasp, even though they were millions of miles away.

“Fedya, how many of them do you recognize by name?”

“By now, I have them all memorized because I’ve found it helpful. If an apocalypse surged the earth, they would still be there. If the world ended, they would still be there. The cosmos remain untouched by us—they watch humanity dance from afar. The nomads knew this the best—when we traveled, we relied on nothing but nature.”

You wondered how many body transfers it took for him to retain them all. There were so many little lights in the sky, it seemed near impossible to be able to gather even half in a mind’s jar. You guessed tens of years at the least, and even with that time, you knew only he could do it.

“You commend them too, don’t you?” you spoke, taking a risk in guessing his views.

“Elaborate for me.” You made eye contact with him, and amethyst eyes fawned over by the night almost enticed you even more than the entire view of the universe afore you.

“You appreciate them, and everything else that lays on the earth after the sun sets because they hold no flaw. They aren’t blemished by the foolishness of people.

“You can be at peace with them because they are perfect, unlike us.”

“You’re right. The perfect mankind would be as pure as the sun and the stars—untainted by something as unnatural as abilities. That’s how I see it, but why group yourself in such faults?”

“Hm?” was the only sound you were able to get out, when he grazed his fingers along your face, cupping your cheek.

“Printsessa, you are perfect.” He spoke smoothly, rich accent making his words sound like a lullaby.

“Your soul dances with the kosmos. Something so divine—you are the harmony of something as beautiful as what we see tonight.

“You are the only one who matches the heavens; my love, you surpass the heavens.”

He captured your lips in a kiss, and you only registered then that it was you two alone. It felt like you two were the only ones in the world with the witnesses to your love being the ends of the horizons, and that the universe who put on a show in the sky instead turned to watch you.

…

“Fedya…what was the mission?” you asked softly as you cuddled with him, your hands reaching for his silky hair as you lay on his chest.

You felt his smile. “You’re still so naïve, darling; you didn’t have to think so much. The mission was to bring you here. It’s been a while since we’ve gone out, has it not?”

SIGMA : i’ve never seen it before! (the aurora borealis) — he learns what love is through you.

“Sigma, baby, let’s go!”

The man had a slightly puzzled face as he let you eagerly lead him outside, past your home’s backyard—into the hills beyond. Other than the Sky Casino, it was your favorite spot, especially when you wanted some peace away from the rest of humanity and its industry.

Your lover was utterly confused why you made sure he did not fall asleep this evening. He always went to bed far earlier than you and rose while you were still lost in dream—perhaps snoring—but tonight you insisted.

And Sigma followed, even though he was at the verge of passing out from exhaustion—managing a casino was hard. He let you take his hand and direct him, even without a clue of where you were going.

Maybe that was what love was—blindly following another.

“I have a surprise.” You slightly turned your head back to look at him, and he swore he would remember this scene forever. His hand still clasped around yours, the warm glow of the back porch’s bistro lights cast upon your face, and your sweet smile—though it was dark outside, he felt that your smile lit up his world more than all the stars combined in the night sky.

The cosmos were a new thing for him. You had introduced watching the stars to him, in this special place beyond your backyard.

Immediately after his first time learning what the Big Dipper was, and that the little lights in the sky were actually much farther than they seemed, he called for a viewing deck to be created for the Sky Casino.

That way, even on nights away from you and home, he could still gaze at the same stars, and for you as well if you wanted to visit.

“Are we stargazing?” Sigma asked as you ran up one of the hills with him. He held a chuckle to himself. You didn’t bother to change out of your pajamas. You were so cute.

“It’s a little different this time,” you giggled, setting down a blanket for the two of you to sit. Before, you would bring foldable chairs, but you realized that they made it a bit difficult for you to cling onto Sigma when you wanted to cuddle with him.

“We should start to see it in just a few minutes,” you said, looking up.

“Okay…”

The stars were there as usual. Sigma had never thought that something as pretty as your heart could exist in something physical, but that was how he saw those small lights in the sky.

If only you knew that whenever you decided to talk about how beautiful the skies were at night, he wanted to say they were literally just a reflection of you.

As soon as the clock on your watch hit the next hour, you immediately grabbed Sigma’s arm in enthusiasm.

Now he was really starting to wonder what got you so jumpy.

“Hey! Do you see it?!”

Sigma caught himself so distracted by you that he was watching your face instead of where your eyes were looking at.

He blushed when you looked at him, but thankfully you remained oblivious to his embarrassment.

“The green light! Do you see it?”

Sigma looked up, and he saw what looked like sliver of green contrast the dusky sky.

“That’s natural,” you began to explain. “It works through the earth’s magnetic field colliding with the atmosphere.

“Watch how it dances.”

A show started to unfold before the two of you. Sigma watched as the small touch of light became even brighter, transforming into a ribbon. He watched as the ribbon began to travel across the sky, overtaking the darkness. He watched in awe as it was joined by another green stream, traversing the horizons together.

“Wow,” you both said in awe.

“It’s called the aurora borealis,” you spoke.

“You can see it regularly if you travel way up north, but it’s a rare event here.

“I wanted to experience it with you.”

Sigma turned to look back at you, butterflies in his tummy and a surge of warmth overflowing his heart when he met your face—cheeks glowing from the reflection of the chasma and your eyes full of adoration.

“With me?” Sigma asked.

“Of course,” you replied, pulling him up. “Look Sigma—a new color joined.”

He glanced up, seeing that a new hue had appeared, aligning itself with the green. A pinkish light had mixed itself in, creating a swirl of paints on the sky’s pallete.

It really seemed like the lights were dancing. And Sigma thought to himself—like me and her.

You seemed to have the same idea because you had taken his hands in yours and started to whirl him around. It was messy—a bit chaotic, but he let himself be dragged along for a bit until he got dizzy, because maybe love was blindly following someone.

Eventually, Sigma started laughing, and couldn’t be thrown around any longer. “Calm down, love!” He took control of the dance, guiding your steps so that it turned into a more organized waltz.

He became captivated when he twirled you around—even though you were in your pajamas, you couldn’t look any less beautiful. He had danced with you in ballrooms, in gardens, but this unrehearsed night was the most enchanting of all.

…

You two danced until your feet started to hurt and Sigma’s exhaustion finally got the best of him. Now, you lay together, watching the rest of the night’s act play out.

“Whenever I look at the nebulas, I only think of you now, you know,” you confessed. “Because even if you’re up there, and I’m down on earth, we’re still looking at the same stars together.”

“I think the same,” Sigma replied. “It’s like we’re always connected in some way.”

You nodded with a smile, but you realized Sigma wasn’t finished yet.

“Actually, it’s more than that. I can only think of you when I see those things because all beauty leads back to you. I see your kindness in the sun and your energy in these colorful lights. I see your perseverance in the moon and most importantly, how many hearts you’ve made shine in the stars.

“And whatever ends up the brightest at night is mine, because you’ve warmed my heart the most.”

Your own heart was beating fast, by how your lover had spoken so tenderly to you and by the way he had rolled over towards you so that he was so close now—his lips just shy of yours.

“Sigma,” you whispered, and then you pulled him into a kiss.

It was then he finally understood: love wasn’t about blindly following another, he followed you because you were a blessing of trust, carrying the stars of devotion on your hands.

i heard if you rb, u’ll be able to watch the stars w/ ur fav tn !! reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most. <3

this fic wouldn’t have ever seen the light, weren’t for @cheriiyaya (hi); thank u bby for encouraging me start to finish. <3 a lil prompt inspo for dazai & fyodor from her. ^_^

p.s. did i imply a past!love triangle in dazai’s scenario? yes. was i referring to the fyozai ‘til death we do art love triangle? maybe..! actually, for some rzn, i included many things here that foreshadow other fics coming soon. stay tuned :)

© AUREATCHI 2024. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner by cafekitsune.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Megumi losing his will to carry on until (y/n) shows up

Pairing: Megumi x reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Synopsis: Megumi can't take it anymore. All the death, the grief, the misery he caused. He'll never forgive himself for losing you...But are you really dead?

Warnings: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS! but more in a really decent way, like I actually think if you have no idea of the manga you don't get that these are spoilers lol, HEAVY angst but also comfort, poor Megumi is at his lowest so TW if that offends you

I know I promised you a Sukuna fic it technically is and I will serve, but this basically wrote itself so I hope you like this as well hehe

Take a deep breath in and out, calm your tingling nerves, allow your feet to walk at normal pace. You waited so long for this moment, recovered from your endless injuries Sukuna conflicted on your body and soul. It took Shoko forever to stitch you up again, to make you look like a human being again. But there you go, walking on your very own legs, to finally see the true love of your life again.

When was the last time you spoke to him? Oh, you remember it exactly.

“I’m scared. Scared of what will happen, scared about the things we’ll lost…”

“Hey, you’ll never lose me, okay? I will always stay by your side.”

Little did both of you know he’ll break that promise a few weeks later and that he won’t return to your side for over a year. How hard you fought, how desperately you tried to stand a chance against Sukuna – only to get thrown out of life yourself.

“Are you sure you can handle this, that you are fit enough?”, Yuji questioned with his hand resting on your shoulder.

“You know you don’t have to-“

“This might be the only chance to get him back, right?”

Yuji smiled at you with that pained expression on his face you saw countless times these last months.

“Yuta and I think it might work. After all, everyone knows how much you mean to him.”

You clench your hands into fists. There is no doubt in the fact that Megumi Fushiguro is still in there, that he is still the boy you know and adore with all your heart. Even if it means you’ll get attacked again, even if it might end your life, you’ll have to try.

-Megumi-

Megumi’s body doesn’t move an inch, lifeless eyes staring into nothing but darkness. What time is it? He couldn’t care less. No, time doesn’t make any sense right now. Not when he lost everyone he loved. His family, his friends, his self-control. You.

His heart stings immediately. Oh, your gorgeous face hunts him down like nothing else. The way you talked, the way you laughed. The way you looked at him with widened eyes when your lifeless body fell to the ground, the way your blood pooled around his brown shoes.

Why? Why didn’t you listen to him when he told you earlier to stay away from Sukuna? Why did you decide to show up anyway, without Yuji or Yuta by your side? There was absolutely nothing he could do to save you.

Just like his sister.

Just like Gojo-sensei.

Just like everyone else.

It seems unreal to him. Unreal that he’s the one still alive, that all these people lost their lives through his very own hands. Oh, he’ll never forget the way you cared for his sister, your dumb inside jokes with Gojo. He’ll never forget the way you held his hand that one night, how your soft smile outshone the heavy moonlight.

“Don’t worry Megumi, everything will turn out alright eventually!”

Oh, how wrong you were. How awful these words make his guts turn, how desperately he wants to close his eyes forever.

No, you didn’t deserve your fate. Everyone didn’t deserve their fates. But he? He deserves nothing but death.

Nothing but emptiness.

Nothing but darkness.

“Megumi.”

Is he hallucinating again? Is your voice hunting him down like it always does? It sounds so clear, near to reach. As if he could open his eyes, stretch out his hands and-

“Megumi.”

Again.

His skin suddenly starts to feel warm, as if someone touches his arm. Impossible, no one should be here, it’s just him in this prison that never ends-

“Hey, I’m here. It’s me, (y/n).”

“(y/n)?”

That name. That gorgeous name he adores to the moon and back, that last name that saved him from giving up until you died in front of his eyes.

“Hey, it’s been a while.”

“You’re dead.”

That voice sounds so unknown, so far away that you flinch for a second. Is this really Megumi and not just a cheap copy of him? You swallow hard, desperately try to contain your emotions. Oh, how much you longed for this moment, to finally hold the love of your life again. But on the other hand, you can’t take the sight in front of you. Him laying curled up on the cold floor, face showing absolutely no emotion.

You shake your head. No, you have to be strong right now. If not for yourself, then for him.

“Open your eyes, silly. I’m right here”, you reply.

Gently, you cup his cheek with your hand the way he always secretly adored. This just has to work, you need to get him back.

He hesitates for a moment, breath stuck in his throat. Is this really you or just his own sorrow reminding him of the things he’s done? But what…

He opens his eyes.

His gaze finds yours.

Time stands still.

“I missed you, cutie patootie.”

Reality hits him with full force. This might be a cruel trick, a hallucination. But that nickname was always a little secret between both of you, how you called him in private. No one except you knows about it. No one except you looks at him with so much love gleaming in their eyes. No one except…

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

“I know you think I’m dead but…I made it, Megumi. I never gave up hope to see you again.”

You can’t hold back the waterfall of tears that now streams down your cheeks, eyes holding onto his gorgeous face for dear life, afraid to lose him all over again.

“(y/n).”

And for the first time since you know him, his eyes get watery to the point where they overflow with tears, the salty stream getting caught in your hands.

“(y/n)”, he whimpers again.

“Don’t feel sorry for what happened. It wasn’t you but him. I don’t blame you”, you blurt out immediately.

“(y/n)!”

Faster than you’re able to comprehend what’s happening, he wraps his longing arms around you, presses you so close that your lungs refuse their service for a second.

“I thought you’re dead. I thought…I killed you.”

The sheer agony in his voice forms a painful lump in your throat. Oh poor Megumi…He doesn’t deserve to feel this way, doesn’t deserve to hold all these horrible memories. How much you’d wish you could simply take his pain away, could make him forget what happened.

But all you’re able to do is holding him tightly.

“You would never harm a single hair on my body-“

“But I did!”, he screams.

“I hurt you! I almost killed you! Just like Gojo-sensei, just like Tsumiki!”

His voice breaks, a dry whimper escapes his lips.

“I…I can’t do this anymore. I can’t hurt another soul. I don’t wanna li-“

“Stop right there.”

Desperately, you force him to look into your reddened eyes.

“This wasn’t you, Megumi. Did you hear me? No one ever thought it was you. We loved you, we missed you, we want you back. When Shoko stitched me up, all I was able to think about was you. Fuck that shitty jujutsu world we’re living in, fuck all the curses and monsters and humans. Think about us, Megumi. Think about what you told me back then, that you’ll always stay by my side. Because that’s were I need you, this is why I love you more than anything else. In my eyes, you’ll never be anything apart from Megumi Fushiguro!”

Without thinking twice, you press your despairing lips against his, taste the salty tears of him and you that mixed on each other’s faces. His arms wrap themselves around your back and waist, hold you into place while you get lost against the lips you know so well but yet not at all. Megumi just needs to come back to you, needs to find his willpower again.

“I need you”, you mutter against his mouth.

“I love you.”

The agony radiating from his voice becomes almost unbearable, lets you hold onto his neck even tighter. No, Megumi didn’t deserve what happened to him. He didn’t deserve to see his loved ones die right before his eyes. He didn’t deserve all the things he’s been through. But this right here, this is just right.

This is a reason to hold on, right?

“Promise me you won’t give up”, you urge.

“Promise me you’ll give yourself the chance to heal, that you’ll stand with me and Yuji and the others. Just promise that you’ll come back.”

“I swore to myself not to be a burden to this world anymore, that I’m done with my pathetic life, that I deserve to die. But you’re alive, you’re lying in my arms…And now I’m too selfish to do that.”

Again, he caresses your lips with his in the gentlest way while his arms hold you in place.

“If I’m not able to look at myself in the mirror, I’m able to look at you.”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz@darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva@kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

[minus-plus-zer0]

Catching Him in His Celebrity Disguise

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up

There were only a handful of people walking around the park, even though it was such a lovely day outside. You had a small lunch packed in your bag and you headed over to your favorite bench to eat when you realized a certain man was already occupying the space.

He wore a baseball cap that couldn't fully flatten his blonde spikes that poked out from all sides. His face mask obscured his expression and his tight black shirt showed off his fit body quite well. He briefly whipped off his sunglasses to see his phone better. You approached him and sat down, and when you caught his red eyes, that's when you knew you were in the presence of the Pro Hero, Dynamight.

He caught the flicker of realization on your face. He silently panicked for two reasons. One, you recognized him. Two, you were the most gorgeous person he'd ever seen.

"...Dynamight?" You must've looked like a deer in the headlights.

"...Hi?" You could tell he was shocked too.

"Oh, you're much more awkward in person! Haha! That's so cute! I'm such a big fan!"

"Lower your voice!" Dynamight said through gritted teeth, pulling off his mask to reveal his slightly pink face. "I just wanted some peace and quiet out here, don't announce my presence to the world!"

"Sorry!" Your hands flew up to your mouth. "Is it okay if I sit here? I really love how secluded this spot is. Though, I don't really mind if you're here."

"You're already sitting," he said, furrowing his brows. "Keep sitting if you want, I ain't gonna stop ya..." He glanced at you, nervously. "Do ya come here all the time?"

"Yes! But I have never seen you here before." You dug out your small lunch box from your bag. Most of your food was homecooked, sweet to the taste, and pink. Bakugou wrinkled his nose at the sight. "I didn't think you liked this city. You're always complaining about it on the news, which makes me kinda sad since it's my hometown."

"I didn't mean that shit!" Bakugou cried, putting his phone away. "I say bad things about everyone, everywhere. Don't take it personally."

"Well it's very nice of you to clarify that!" You started munching on one of your pink macaroons.

"Do you like it here?" he asked. "You think I do a good job of protecting your hometown?"

"Yeah, obviously! You saved my favorite bakery last week!"

Bakugou looked thoughtfully into the distance of the park, recalling the scene. "I remember that shit. The owner gave me such a big hassle for not defeating the villain before they wrecked the front entrance."

"Well they were able to recover anyways. I swear their food is really good, you should really go sometime!"

"You wanna go with me?" he asked, his head turning a little too quickly.

You gulped down your macaroon. "...As a date?"

"No! I--I don't fucking know! You wanna go or not?"

"Calm down. I'm only teasing you, hero. I'll go with you, okay?"

"You could've just said that from the start!"

A few nearby civilians peeked at your increasingly loud conversation and Bakugou shut up immediately, keeping his head down. You giggled.

Bakugou didn't speak until they fully passed by. "Can't believe you're laughing at me. I'm one of the top Pro Heroes of the damn country, and you're laughing at me!"

"You're not a top Pro Hero right now, are you?" You poked his cheek. "You're just an ordinary, aggressive guy hiding in plain sight."

"I am anything but ordinary."

Bakugou's stomach growled loudly. He grasped the offending thing like he could hide the noise.

"Poor hero! You must be so hungry. Here, I have some grapes you can eat!" You took out a grape from your lunch box, offering it to him. He popped it into his mouth.

"Thanks," he said between chews. "You sure you don't mind sharing?"

"I would never mind sharing with you," you said, handing him another grape. He gratefully accepted it. "You're the hero this country needs. Your face is all over our TVs when you come here to save us. And... well... you're even prettier in-person to boot."

You hid your face a little when saying that, but you wanted to take a chance to say it to his face while he was still here. He averted his eyes too. You hoped you didn't make him uncomfortable, or maybe just the right kind of uncomfortable in a good way.

You took out another grape. "Besides, you can make it up to me on our next date, alright?" You held out the grape for him.

Instead of taking it with his hands, Bakugou took the grape with his teeth from your fingers. You almost gasped.

"Tasty," he said, chewing with a smug grin. Your mouth was still agape. "Do you hand-feed all the other Pro Heroes you meet?"

You couldn't believe he just did that. He was so bold. But you wanted to be bolder.

"...No, just you," you said, your heart racing. You took out another grape. "Want some more?"

Despite his smugness, his voice was a little wobbly when he said, "Keep 'em coming."

On that day, Bakugou got to meet his belated first love.

Years later, you and Bakugou happened to pass by the same park bench in the same lonely park. You clung to Bakugou's arm, holding his hand as he strut around in public like he was on top of the world. He always felt like that when he had you around.

You pointed at the bench and elbowed Bakugou. "Look! This is where we met, right?"

"That's why I fucking brought ya here," he said, kissing your temple. "Was wondering if you'd recognize the damn old thing.

"You're such a romantic," you said.

Bakugou led you over to the bench and sat down, with you cuddling up beside him.

"You never visit this park even though we live close enough," you murmured.

"That's 'cause I wanted to take you back here with me," Bakugou said. "I've always made sure the city kept this place nice though. After all, this is our spot."

"Yeah, our spot."

[voxsmistress]

Mama Didn't Raise No Bimbo - Part Sixteen!

Hello my gorgeous little demons - I am so sorry this took so long to post! These past few weeks have been hell at work! But never fear, I will always get to writing when I can!

Now ... we've had Voxie's turn, it's Valentino's now ;)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve / Part Thirteen / Part Fourteen / Part Fifteen / Part Sixteen Trigger Warnings: Sexual themes, no under 18's allowed, sexual shenanigans, second time writing smut (be kind), Val being his usual sarcastic self!

A few days had passed since your little tryst with Vox, and you were slightly embarrassed that the next day after you basically had to spend it all in bed to recover after your late evening with the Overlord. Even more embarrassed when Velvette came to check up on you and ended up laughing her head off when she realised what was going on. Valentino was a little nicer – and by a little you meant he didn’t laugh … straight away.

Anyway, after that one day of recovering you were then back to work, focusing on your social media and the upcoming catwalk for Velvette. Your songs were chosen, outfits being made and all that was left was practicing where and when you were going to sing, prance and walk. And by practice you meant again, and again and again until you had to tell Velvette if she kept making you sing over and over your voice would be in tatters for the show. Did you think she was going to give you a break after that? Your voice, yes. Your body, nope. You were made to walk up and down that catwalk, pose in various (idiotic) poses and dance your way back down the catwalk. Safe to say you were absolutely shattered.

Which is why you were currently lying down on the pink chaise lounge in Velvette’s studio; going over paperwork, the last few outfit designs for the other demons and whether any song choices would work better than the ones you had. Velvette was sat beside you, one hand tapping away on her phone and the other one running her fingers through your hair, tugging on the few tangles that were there making sure you were paying attention and not falling asleep which you were apt to do. What could you say, you loved people playing with your hair.

A grumble and a huff from her stopped you from adjusting the one outfit design and instead to look up at her to see a pissed off look on her face. What has happened now?

“You okay there, babe?” Checking on her, you sit up properly as she shakes her phone annoyed.

“That stupid piss baby is blowing up all our phones having a tantrum, like we have time to deal with his dramatics. Vox is busy which means I am going to have to deal with him and I have a hundred different things to do and I just- “ Turning her phone while she ranted so you can see the masses of messages from Valentino you hold back a sigh. He’d been so good recently it was easy to forget that he was the most dramatic out of the three of them (which if you considered how dramatic they all are is an achievement in itself!)

“Sweets don’t worry, I’ll go and chat with him you keep working on what you need to do” you stand from your seat stretching your back which was aching from being laid funny for so long. Vel argued for a few moments before relenting and passing you your phone from the table, popping a quick kiss on her cheek as you walk round her you wiggle your fingers in a goodbye gesture. Entering the elevator you pressed the button for Valentino’s floor. A quick scroll on your phone you see the various messages from Valentino progressively getting more pissed off when no one was replying. Oops. Piss baby indeed.

A sharp ping distracted you from the messages, shoving your phone into your pocket you enter Valentino’s studio. Up till now you had only made a few trips to his studio, preferring the calmness of Vox’s office, or focusing on the clothes in Velvette’s – Val’s had a completely different vibe which sometimes put you on edge. A few steps into the room you could feel the energy was chaotic already. A Valentino shouting at the two pornstars on the stage was the reason why. Sighing under your breath you could easily see he wasn’t exactly as calm as you would have hoped. Well. Here goes nothing.

Walking towards the Overlord, you nod to a few of the demons who recognised you from around the tower and glared at the ones who give you a bit of attitude who obviously don’t realise who you were. They soon would. Coming to a stop at a ranting Val’s side you watch him snap a few directions at the actors with comments on how they could (should) improve. Before he could yell action, you link an arm through his while whispering up into his ear: “is that how you are going to direct me in bed?” His head twists round so fast his glasses nearly fly off, catching them you grin up at the shocked Overlord. Shocked is definitely better than shouting.

“My amorcito (little love), what are you doing here?” Slipping his glasses properly back on his face, you can’t help but chuckle at his question.

“You ask as if you weren’t blowing up all of our phones continuously for the past hour – I’ve come to check up on you”, as you explain one of his arms wraps around your waist to drag you around the side of his chair, so now you were in front of him.

“You came to check on little ol’ me? I am touched!” His other hand was cupping your face, fingers squeezing your cheeks a little harder than normal reminding you of his festering anger. Your own hand came up to rest on his wrist as you nod, his hand controlling how much movement you had which sent a small tingle up your spine. Okay you had definitely been spending way too much time with the Vee’s because when did you get that sort of kink?

He must have seen something in your expression as his own darkened with a sinister grin, his gold tooth flashing at you. Bringing another hand to your waist he hoisted you onto his lap like you weighed nothing, squeaking at the sudden movement you placed your hands on his arms to steady yourself. He had made sure to place you with your back against his chest and two of his arms stayed wrapped around your waist pressing you closer to him.

“If you want to keep me calm little one, I suggest you stay there and stay quiet, yes?” Agreeing you rested against his chest as he shouted at the actors to start again. Sitting there you kept quiet, but with how Valentino was sat you had the full show of what the actors were doing on the stage. Adverting your gaze, a flush started to raise up your neck to your cheeks more so when you couldn’t help but take a cheeky glance. How on hell do they stay in those positions without breaking a sweat? After a few minutes of that position, Val shouted for them to change. His hands rubbing up and down your waist as well as the scene in front of you was making the jeans you were wearing mighty uncomfortable.

Doing your best to ignore the urge the relieve the pressure, you hesitated before shifting on Valentino’s lap to try and stop the seam of your jeans pressing against your clit. Moving a bit too quick, a gasp escaped your lips as small burst of pleasure flashed through your body. A chuckle against your ear made the blush grow even more. Busted.

“Comfortable Princessa?” His hushed words into your ear made a shiver run down your spine. Another chuckle from him caused you to roll your eyes. Of course he was loving this. Ready to shove his arms away from your waist and storm out, a pair of red wings encasing your body stopped you in your tracks. You hadn’t seen his wings before.

“Now sit still and keep that pretty mouth of yours shut while daddy finishes his work”, you are ready to give him some sarcastic and harsh words, but a quick hand sneaked down the front of your jeans and underwear. Slipping a finger in between your wet lips gathering the wetness up and pressing harshly against your clit made any words you wanted to say to stay stuck in your throat. Gulping back the moan that wanted to escape, you clench your thighs together to try stop him from moving his fingers.

Tutting quietly into your ear, two hands easily push your thighs apart and hold them open while the hand that was down your jeans was alternating between circling your clit and dipping into your tight hole. “Now mi carño, that bratty attitude might work with Voxie, but not with me you understand?” Your concentration was gone with the fingers that were pushing you closer and closer to the edge making you whine under your breath when they came to a stop. Blinking up at him, his free hand wrapped around your neck harshly before giving you a small shake. “Are you that starved for attention little one that you have become dumb as soon as I touch you? I asked you a question!” He snarls down at you, swallowing a groan you try to rack your brains at what he asked you before. It was so hard to think while his fingers were working you so well and that hand around your neck was just helping push you closer to that edge. Bratty. Bratty attitude that was what he asked you.

“I understand Papi” you whisper, hiding your smirk at the dark expression he gave you. A finger driving deeper into you was your retribution for the snarky comment. Worth it. He yanked your body closer to his chest by the hand on your throat, keeping you plastered against him as his other hands kept your legs open and driving you higher and higher.

“Does it turn you on that we are doing this where anyone could see us Y/n? All it takes is for me to move my wings and anyone can see you unravel on my fingers” licking up your neck making a small moan escapes your lips.

“It does, but do you really want others to see me in that position? To see me fall apart at your hands when my reactions should only be reserved for you three Vee’s?” You turn your head to stare into his lensed glare. You knew you were playing with fire. Valentino was the most jealous and possessive of the three, but he was also the most unpredictable. A thrill ran through your body as he growled into your shoulder, biting down on it hard making you groan. Shit that hurt! Removing his teeth, you see his possessive bite mark on your shoulder. The sound he let out was almost a purr as he ran his tongue over the mark, his fingers moving quicker on your clit causing you to slam your head back into his chest and hold back the moans so only a few whimpers fell from your lips.

He laughed at you, shouting a few more orders and commands at the actors being completely at ease while you were falling apart at the seams. So close to the edge you dug your fingers into his arms, whimpers and moans escaping you more often now but you had stopped caring if the other demons could hear. You were so focused on the feeling coursing through your veins you couldn’t give a fuck if the rest of the room heard you scream.

Val did some sort of voodoo move with his fingers that had you cuming without even realising that you had not just hit the edge but had flown off it. The hand that was around your throat was now across your mouth muffling all the moans and shouts as Valentino shouted cut and for everyone to fuck off out of the room.

Twitching and twisting away from his fingers that continued moving, you shook your head at Val. It was too much. Too much. You tried to get your hands down your jeans to stop him, but they were caught by his own.

“My little chulito, you didn’t think I was finished with you yet, did you?”

Fuck!

Taglist:

@tasha-1994 @azullynxx @reath-solia @leathesimp @klorinda

@the-maladaptivedaydreamer @songbrita @midge7838 @joumi13 @wonderlandangelsposts @th3rizzler

@ace-spades-1 @iamferalfordilfs

@justgiulia @kittycatkrissa @qu1cks1lversb1tch @martinys-world @superwholatacohunters @mysticvoide

@rosiethevoxobesser

@skullhorn59 @sarcastic-sourwolf

@samanthastarss @hazbinz-vixxie

@shinynewboots

[simphornies]

@matrixbearer2024's request ☺️

This is a shorter one. I haven't written in a while and the first time I come back with is a Vox smut 💀 Anyways—enjoy simps!

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: this is literally just smut man, bondage? idk he ties u up, mentions of choking, consent is mentioned

Tied up [ Vox x Reader ] 18+

NSFW UNDER CUT - MDNI

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

You flinched at the familiar voice that came from behind you. Your breath got caught in your throat, you were frozen. You heard his footsteps grow louder behind you, the sound of electricity crackling getting closer.

“You’re not supposed to be here, doll.” Cables snaked around your wrists and ankles, holding you in place with no chance of running. With a swift move, your body turned to face the overlord in front of you. A menacingly seductive grin plastered his face. “Well well…What’s a gorgeous doll faced demon like you doing in my security room?” He held your chin up, his face too close to yours.

Your breathing returned, albeit ragged. The power play had you weak in your knees and if it weren’t for the cables, you’d be on the floor; merciless at his feet.

“What’s wrong?” His hand snaked down from your chin to your neck, his claws lightly tracing your skin. The coldness of claws sent shivers down your spine.

“Something got your tongue?” He lightly applied pressure on your check. He felt you gulp underneath his palms. He let out a low chuckle. “Fine. Let’s see if you can stay quiet.”

He trailed his claws down from your neck to your waist with a different look on his face: a questioning one. He tugged at the hem of your shirt, “Do you want me to stop?” You quickly shook your head. He chuckled at your eager answer. “Use your words, doll.” His voice was low with a teasing tone.

“P-Please don’t stop, sir.” Your voice was just as shaky as your legs. “Oh, darling finally spoke to me.” Without a second to spare his claws snagged on your shirt and ripped it off to shreds. Just like that you felt how cold his security room really was. He pulled your pants down, showing those mercy compared to your top.

Your arousal dripped down your thighs, fueling Vox’s ego.

He pulled your underwear down and teased your cunt, earning him a whine from you. He handled you gently but roughly, his eyes never left you. He watched the way you arched your body and struggled against the restraints for more friction, a way to beg for him to satiate this new hunger.

Your eyes were shut tight, breathing ragged as you whined for more. When you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, you peeked up at him through half lidded eyes. He stood in front of you with a seductively hungry look on his face. His suit and vest were gone, he stood in front of you with his unbuttoned white top. His pants were tossed over to the side with no care. Your eyes wandered down to his leaking cock. You gulped and shyed your eyes away, suddenly nervous.

He lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Shy?” Your face turned a bright red. His question rendered you unable to respond. He chuckles in response, “I’ll be hearing that sweet little voice soon enough.”

You felt the restraints on your wrists move you so your back was facing him. Instead of the usual dark walkway towards his office, you were met with your own reflection in a mirror. Vox grabbed your face and kept you staring at the sight of yourself restrained and at his mercy. “I need a full view of you being a good girl.”

He enters you slowly, on purpose, to tease you. He was halfway in and you felt so full. He chuckles in your ear, making you shiver underneath his hold. In contrast to his slow entrance, he slammed down into you. A pleasure-filled scream erupted from you, “Vox!”

He started to thrust in and out of you, giving you no time to recover from him slamming into you. The hand he had your face trailed down to your neck. He gripped it tight enough for you to find pleasure. The slightest squeeze made you immediately clench your walls around him. He let out a low growl in response, this riled him up more. He used his free hand grabbed onto your hip, his claw lightly digging into your skin. You couldn’t keep quiet, moans and screams of his name escaped your lips every time his hips slammed into yours.

The cables around your wrist lowered as he let go of your neck. He used both hands to keep your ass up and sped up. If it weren’t for the cables and him holding you up, you’d be limp on the floor from the pleasure. “You’re taking it so well, doll.” He praised you, his voice slightly glitching out of pure pleasure. “You’re such a good girl.”

You melted at his words. You begged and pleaded for more.

He swiftly pulled out to flip you over before slamming back into you again. You bit your lip, stifling your scream. He grabbed your face, looking you in the eyes with his own. As his left eye spiraled, he spoke to you with his warbling voice, “I said I wanted to hear you. Be good, now.” You could barely respond.

Your mind was getting foggy and your vision getting blurry. You were losing yourself in the pleasure. All that came out of you was his name accompanied by a symphony of moans. That building tightness in your stomach grew tighter with every thrust.

It was clear to you, even in your euphoric state, that he was close from the way he glitched and stuttered. His breathing was ragged as he thrusted into you with reckless abandon. He grabbed your throat, squeezing it, “I want to hear you say my name as you cum around me, darling.” His voice was raspy.

The lights that lit the room up started to flicker along with his own. “V-Vox—” You tried to warn him but the knot in your stomach snapped. You shut your eyes tight as you came on him but that didn’t stop him from abusing your cunt to push him to the edge. It didn’t take long for him to completely fill you up, your name spilling out his lips like his cum spilled out of you.

Your body convulsed as he held your body tightly against him. It felt like forever for the pleasure to die down. You felt yourself lowering down on the ground along with him. He was still inside you as he held you on the cold ground. Once he was done, he slowly pulled out and watched the mixture of his and yours lovemaking pour out of you. When you finally came to your senses, you opened your eyes to the dark room. The only light that filled the room was the blue screen that replaced his face.

The cables that were around your wrists were now hanging loosely from the ceiling, giving you freedom to place your hands on his chest. “Vox?” You softly said, your own voice raspy from screaming. His screen eventually went back to his own face after buffering. The lights turned back on in his room as he looked into your eyes with a smile on his face, red liquid dripping from his mouth.

“Amazing as always, doll.” He said, “I should listen to your ideas more.” You giggled in response, peppering kisses all over his screen. He lazily threw his own pants on before carrying you, taking the cables off of your wrists in response. He carried you back into his room to take care of and clean you up. Once you were both situated, he sets you down in his bed. You nuzzled into his chest, his arms wrapping around your figure gently. You soon fell asleep with him.

The next day, Vox’s phone was filled with angry texts from Velvette, something relating to her “ruined show” thanks to the blackout the two of you caused.

[moutainrusing]

over 30

782 words, @wolfstarmicrofic

When Sirius was carted off to the hospital at eighty, he knew he was on his deathbed. That was okay. He’d lived a good life. He’d loved the people of his dreams.

James, Harry, Lily. And Sirius. They were a family.

James was his brother, his favourite person in the whole world, his go-to, the person made for him and vice-versa. They spent all their time together. Roommates since they were eleven in boarding school, eighteen in their flat, thirty in their house. Even when James began dating Lily, the condition was that she move into their house, that Sirius would also live with them.

If she refused, then James would drop her.

She didn’t. She became Sirius’s sister, best friend, partner-in-crime as they ganged up on James with teasing mockery and calculated pranks.

James and Lily had a son. Harry was Sirius’s godson, the light who brightened his life, and Sirius would take him to the park while James and Lily had their dates, take Harry to the pub when he was sixteen, take Harry to expensive football matches as they roared unabashedly at players.

Sirius’s heart was so full. He’d never needed anyone else. At first, he’d been sure he was aromantic.

Then he thought he was on the aro ace-spectrum.

There had been one time. He’d taken Harry to a concert. A small charity affair. A group of friends were covering songs to raise money for a hospital, the family’s old one from before they’d moved cities, the hospital where Harry had been born, so of course Sirius had to go. This hospital helped bring the most brilliant child into the world. It was his duty to give something back.

Although it felt like the band was giving even more to him, because the bass player was fucking gorgeous. Sirius proceeded to have a dilemma over this being the first time he’d ever found someone attractive, and Harry was there patting his back while Sirius hyperventilated over how large and calloused and fast the musician’s hands were, how comfy he seemed, with his warm skin tone and crooked smile and dimpled cheeks, and he was wearing a knitted sweater, Sirius was going to die—

By the time Sirius had recovered, the show was over, and the only person Sirius was attracted to had left. Never to be seen again.

He’d decided he was greysexual. Because he certainly wasn’t friends with this sexy man, so he couldn’t be demisexual. He was probably also greyromantic because if he saw the beautiful person ever again, he wouldn’t hesitate asking him out.

Now Sirius was eighty. He had no regrets. Just one wish. That he could’ve found romance.

But he’d never needed it. Not when he’d had James, Harry and Lily. He was composed of fond memories and soft smiles, group hugs and family nights.

So it came as a surprise when his hospital bed was placed right next to an aged version of hot bass guy. Sirius’s greysexuality hit him full-force. It was the grey hair that did it.

“Holy shit,” he murmured, blatantly staring. The patient was Remus Lupin, as said by his name card, and Remus turned to raise an eyebrow at him, smiling in bemusement. Crooked smile. The dimples.

“Hi?” Remus returned.

“I love you,” Sirius blurted.

Remus blinked. “So… what are you in for?”

Sirius waved a hand, “Old age, you know the stuff.” Then he let his eyes glint as he gushed, “Anyway, you were the cause of my midlife sexuality crisis. You played bass for Godric’s Hospital charity function, right?”

“Yes,” Remus stated, as if his mind was reeling. Then suddenly, he cried, “I KNOW YOU!”

It was Sirius’s turn to blink in confusion.

Remus continued, “At first I thought you were choking, maybe you swallowed down the wrong pipe, but then I saw you staring at my hands.” Remus began smirking, “So I might’ve purposely played a little more… provocatively than I usually did.”

Sirius burst out laughing, “You arsehole!”

Remus nodded solemnly, placing a hand on his chest. “Yes.”

Sirius shook his head in wonder, “You know. I think I do actually love you.”

“Isn’t that a little too soon?”

“I’m eighty,” Sirius deadpanned. “This is far too late.”

Remus bit back a grin. But then he released it. “You’re right.” And then as if they were releasing themselves, the words, “I love you too.”

Sirius sighed wistfully, still smiling. “We could’ve had such a good love story, Remus. I only hope I see you in the next life.”

Remus smiled fondly, something in it that made Sirius’s breath hitch because it felt like they’d known each other for years. “I’m counting on it.”

[jaelaxies]

𝟕:𝟎𝟕 𝐚𝐦

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

fluff; wc.: 476.

Kim Jiwoong x fem reader!; fluff fluff; established relationship and skinship; tw: none.

Song recommendation: You’re Beautiful — The Rose (Dual)

Nobody expected this. It was, indeed, a sight to see.

Kim Jiwoong, the tall gorgeous “mysterious” man who every girl in this faculty would drop everything for, was standing like a giant puppy with an enormous lovesick grin while you buttoned his coat, which he had unbuttoned on purpose on the way here, just to see your focused expression: the way you pursued your lips together and bit your tongue a little bit, the soft lines on your forehead and the lovely smile you gifted him when you were done. Your height difference made everything just so much funnier and cuter at the same time, because to thank you with a soft kiss on the forehead, he had to lean down a bit but that gave him the perfect excuse to whisper something only the two of you could hear; making your cheeks go dusty rose and his eyes crinkle with pure joy, his ears matching your colored cheeks.

—I really won the lottery in my past life, babe — As you recovered yourself from the cheesy remark, your hand immediately pinched his cheek, even though softly, he laughed at your weak attempt to get revenge.

—You did, indeed. — Carefully you draped your own scarf around his neck, finishing it in a bow. Red really suited Jiwoong but it was your soft strawberry scent emanating from the fabric and the sweet but firm tone of your words what made his heart race a mile per minute. — But I must admit I am a pretty lucky girl too… I have the cutest boyfriend ever. 

You tiptoed and pecked him on the lips, rushing him to enter the classroom for his final; but Jiwoong stood there smiling like an idiot and wondering what on earth did he do to deserve your pure and honest love; to him, you were too much of a woman and sometimes he just seemed like an idiot beside you; but it was never the case for you, who carefully grabbed his hand, brought it to your lips and kissed it softly; proudly showing him his new “good luck charm” the stain from your lipstick, which was one of his favorites. — Whatever the result is, I’m already proud of you, ok? No worries, you’ll do great. I believe in you!

When he was finally about to enter, he rushed to your position and softly cupped your cheeks pecking your lips so quickly, you barely felt the contact; before disappearing again through the door with a wide grin showing his pearly white teeth. You reached for your lips and smiled too, some way and somehow, he always needed to kiss you last, but it didn’t matter too much, because right now, the lavender haze that was your head was filled with thoughts of your boyfriend and how happy you were to have him by your side.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა finally i can write about my bias!! The way i blush everytime i think about this man... take me to delulu station right now.

tmi: If you're a fellow zerose, who is your bias? im very curious, also i like to know more friends in this fandom because it's a blast ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Because it's also my first time writing for him i thought something sweet and fluffy was perfect for the ocassion i think i managed to do it, but still feedback is always appreciated ♡

Btw, I'm currently working on a project involving fantasy... it's for a member of enhypen... can you guess who?

Anyways, thank you all so much for all the love and support!

I promise to put even more effort in creating joyful projects for you guys to read, love yall ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

With all the love in the world,

ੈ✩‧˚✧˖°࿐Stella!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

[welcometomypersonalhell098]

Stitch’s Tropical Turbulence—A Storybook Adventure

Yao and his friends are carted off to a mysterious island with a curious little creature named Stitch! They try to find a way back home while still making time to have fun!

this card is an sr! (vignette 1) (vignette 2)

summon: I mean if we are truly stuck here…might as well make the most of it, right?

groovification: If only we got vacations like this more often…

set to homescreen: The beach is gorgeous at sunset! Would you like to come with me? I’ll take your picture of you’d like.

home transition 1: Floyd really can be amazing, huh? I got this picture of him cooking earlier…wait please don’t tell him!!

home transition 2: Riddle with his magic, Jack with his pure muscle, and Lilia with his experience? Looks like worrying for our survival is moot.

home transition 3: Stitch here seems to like me. I dunno if I can be as spontaneous as Floyd or Lilia, but it’s comforting that he clings onto me anyway.

home after login: I never really used to enjoy the beach before…but I guess Twisted Wonderland has a habit of surprising me!

home transition (groovy): Our bungalow is marvelous! Seriously, NRC doesn’t disappoint when it comes to building stuff.

tap home 1: I ended up making Azul a smoothie to help him, uh, recover. He seemed to perk right up! Thank goodness.

tap home 2: Haha, I’m not very good at surfing as it seems. I’m happy to watch everyone have fun anyway.

tap home 3: Oh! Do you think we could make sandcastles here? I’m sure with the right spell and direction it could work—we’ll make it a competition to rope in the guys.

tap home 4: This dress shows a bit more skin than I’m used to…I don’t dislike it however. Maybe whatever power that led us here would be gracious enough to let me keep it?

tap home 5: I couldn’t sleep last night so I stayed up on the beach to watch the waves. Turns out they lulled me to sleep! Floyd ended up finding me propped up against a tree, haha…

tap home (groovy): Despite Stitch’s supposed danger, I find it somewhat doubtful. Regardless, he’s definitely a friend. And I don’t leave friends behind.

duo magic: Ace! Figure you can make a better sandcastle, do you? || There’s no “figuring” about it!

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Chapter 2: Step 2: Don't Panic

Summary: Working at the weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-worked. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came it Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

the silly bitch is back this time with teenage shenanigans. 🦐

Chapter 1

Cross Posted to AO3 Here

HTWAHP Masterlist

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

“You can do this, it’s just a building. A very beautiful goth as fuck building that happens to be housing the woman you’re head over heels for. The very woman whose coffee you’re holding…” you mumble to yourself, staring up at the impressive building of Nevermore Academy.

It really was a beautiful building, in a goth macabre sort of way. When you were younger you probably would’ve killed to go to a school that looked like this. You could’ve been dark and edgy on epic balconies, every depressed teen’s dream.  However, you’re currently more concerned with arguing with yourself about the stupidity of your offer. You can’t help but think maybe Larissa was simply being polite and didn’t want you to show up at her workplace. Maybe she actually can’t stand you and your painfully obvious crush on her and didn’t have the heart to tell you to buzz off. Maybe this-

Your spiralling is abruptly cut off but a monotone voice, “Are you just going to stand there or are you actually going to come in?”

“JESUS FUCK-“ you yell, jumping at the voice, nearly dropping your precious cargo. You look away from the window you had been staring out to see a dark-haired girl standing in the doorway, glaring up at you. She’s obviously a student, judging by the uniform she’s wearing despite it completely lacking its usual colour.

“How long have you been standing there?” you ask, trying to recover from your near heart attack.

“Long enough to question your intentions here.” She replies.

“Wednesday! There you are!” a bright voice exclaims from behind your interrogator.

You look behind the girl, Wednesday, to see a sweet-looking blonde girl skipping over to you two. She stops next to Wednesday with a bright smile. She looks like the embodiment of sunshine honestly. The two standing next to each other is quite the juxtaposition.

“Oh! Hi, I’m Enid.” She introduces herself, sticking her hand out for you to shake.

You tell her your name and she smiles before turning to Wednesday.

“We have botany soon, I was just coming to get you but you weren’t in our room. Thing told me you were trying to escape again.” She grins.

“Thing will pay for his treachery soon enough.” Wednesday mumbles. “And as you can see, I’m still here.”

“Escape?” You mumble, glancing back at Wednesday “I thought this was a school, not a prison.”

“May as well be one.” Wednesday huffs, followed by Enid smacking her arm lightly.

“It’s not that bad! You’re just dramatic. Anyway, we’re going to be late, so let’s go.” She says, all but dragging a scowling Wednesday behind her.

“Oh uh, wait! Could you tell me how to get to Laris- I mean Principal Weems’s office? I have something for her.” You ask.

You swear you have never seen someone move faster in your life. One moment Enid was dragging her grumpy goth friend away and the next she was right in front of you, staring up at you with gleaming eyes.

“You’re here to see Principal Weems?? Are you two friends? Are you more than friends? What did you bring her?” She gushes.

“Don’t uh…don’t you have to get to botany?” You ask, taking a step back.

You’re not all that sure what you and Larissa are really. Or why she said yes ti you bringing her coffee every morning. For all intents and purposes, you’re just a very dedicated barista to her. Which makes your heart ache in a very pathetic way. But you’re fairly certain she wouldn’t want whatever relationship you have going on to be known by any of her students. She strikes you as the type to value her privacy.

“It’s fine. We’ll take you to Principal Weems’s office. We won’t get in any trouble. And we’d be happy to help, right Wednesday?”

“I’d rather willingly poison myself with Miss Thornhill’s plants thanks.” She grumbles.

“See! It’s settled. Let’s go!” Enid exclaims, setting off further into the school.

“Is she always like this?” You ask Wednesday.

“Every hour of every day so far.”

“Wow”

The two of you catch up to Enid who then continues to try and grill you for information on what you’re delivering to her principal and what your relationship to her is. You answer relatively honestly, telling her you’re just there to deliver coffee and you’ll probably be back, but it’s nothing more than that. She seems to not believe you, which is doubled when Wednesday makes a comment about a trip to Nevermore to deliver coffee not being typical service from the Weathervane.

“You’re totally in love with her!” Enid squealed, practically bouncing on the spot.

“I-that’s. First of all, that’s none of your business, and second you’re jumping to conclusions! I just- laris- I mean Principal Weems is a wonderful busy woman who needs coffee. There’s nothing weird about me bringing one to her in the morning! And- and it doesn’t even have to mean anything! Can’t it just be me being nice?”

“You know, they say those who become defensive when confronted are usually guilty.” Wednesday chirps with a smirk.

Dear god having two teenagers gang up on you about your crush on their principal was not what you imagined your morning to include.

“Do you two enjoy bullying a kind-hearted adult?”

“Yes.” Wednesday deadpans eliciting a snort from you.

“And we’re here!!” Enid exclaims, stopping in front of a pair of double doors.

You stare at the golden plaque on the door. The nerves from outside have returned tenfold now. And you can’t help but wonder if you should just turn and leave. You have a habit of taking things a step too far, you’re worried this is one of those times. What if she’s busy and doesn’t want you bothering her? What if-

“Well, we should get going!” Enid smiles, and then -to your horror- knocks on the door before quickly dragging Wednesday away.

“Come in” you hear an angelic voice answer from the other side.

Well you can’t just turn around now, and you did come all this way. So with that thought you take a deep breath and open the door.

And Jesus fucking Christ it should be illegal how lovely Larissa Weems looks seated at her desk, glasses perched on her nose, light beaming in from the window behind her. She looks like an angel, truly. She looks breathtaking you genuinely nearly forget to breathe.

And when she glances up from her laptop screen to look at you? If you were meltable you’d be nothing but a puddle right this second. Christ on a stick it’s a good day to love women, especially the very gorgeous woman in front of you.

“Darling? What are you doing here?” She asks, standing up and rounding her desk.

Your heart drops a little bit, thinking the worst.

Obviously, she didn’t want you to come. How could you be so stupid?

“I uhm. I brought you coffee! I’m sorry it’s- god I- this is silly I shouldn’t have come, you were obviously joking and I’m disturbing you I should- I’ll just go,“ you ramble, looking at anything but her.

You jump when you feel her hand wrap around your wrist. When the fuck had she gotten close? Was she a ninja? Your eyes dart to her face to see her…wait is she blushing?

You blink up at her, trying to figure out why she’s standing there, holding your wrist with a bashful smile on her face and a blush on her cheeks.

“Larissa? Are.. is everything okay?”

“You really are too sweet to me darling” she murmurs, squeezing your wrist. “I had thought you were just joking yesterday. I’m not used to people going out of their way for me like this.”

“Well, people are fucking stupid then.” You retort, “People should go to the ends of the earth just to talk to you. I know I would.”

“If you keep talking like that you’ll never get rid of me.” She mumbles, looking away.

“The day I want to be rid of you is the day I’ve been body snatched and replaced by an evil alien.”

She snorts at that, her nose scrunching in the most adorable way. And wow she really is close. You can see the slight crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes, the laugh lines around her mouth. Christ her mouth looks far too kissable right now. You look back at her eyes and, oh gods she is not allowed to look at you like that you really might just kiss her. Would she kiss you back? The way she’s looking at you has you thinking maybe she would. All it would take is for you to lean in just-

A loud thud breaks you both from your reverie. You turn to face where the noise came from and just manage to catch a glimpse of blonde hair darting around the corner. You really should’ve suspected your kind escorts were going to eavesdrop. While you feel a little mortified you can’t find it in yourself to be mad at them.

“I don’t suppose you found my office on your own?” Larissa asks.

“I was very kindly escorted by two of your students, they found me panicking at the front door.”

“I don’t suppose they were a moody goth and a bright bubbly girl?” She hums.

“Yep. That was them.”

She sighs, bringing a hand up to rub her temples while muttering something about walking trouble. You giggle, much to your utter mortification, before lifting up the bag you brought.

“Coffee?” You ask.

“God yes.” She sighs.

You reach into the bag and bring out the thermos you’d brought handing it to her with the dorkiest grin on your face. She thanks you before taking a sip and borderline moaning at the taste (yeah your face could give a furnace a run for its money right now).

“Anyway I uh,” you clear your throat. “I best be off. Wouldn’t want to keep you from your work.”

“Do you need to head back to the cafe?”

“Oh no I’m not working today, I just thought-“

“It seems a waste coming all this way to leave so soon no?” She asks. “Let me give you a tour.”

“Oh no it’s okay! I’m sure you have more important things to do-“

“Well, I think it’s rather important you let me show you around. Please?” She asks.

And goddamn you couldn’t say no to her if you were being held at gunpoint. And the idea of her wanting to spend time with you is making you swoon. So you agree, ducking your head in a nod so she won’t see how flustered you are by her simple gesture.

She presses her laptop shut and grabs the takeaway bag from your hand, placing it down on her desk, before gesturing to the door.

“After you sweetheart.”

[stars-n-spice]

TBB S3 TRAILER

Holy FUCK I was not prepared for this.

As soon as I saw the trailer posted on Instagram, I grabbed my laptop and casted the trailer on the TV and stood in front of the TV like an old asian man; hands behind the back, spine bent, feet planted shoulder width apart.

Cannot believe it's finally here and I've got a lot of thoughts that I'm going to put under the cut because holy shit, this trailer hit me like a brick.

Idk if they will be comprehensive honestly but I'm writing them down as I rewatch the trailer.

In summary though? This season is going to absolutely wreck me and I will never recover from it emotionally and probably financially too if we get a new wave of merch and shit with it too.

Anyways, thoughts and reactions under the cut-

What the fuck are they doing with that transport? They stealing something? Retrieving something? Is it a tank? Hello, where is Echo??? IS THAT FUCKING CROSSHAIR?! IN S1 ARMOR???

PHEE GENOA!! so fucking great to see her again, I'm going to be absolutely devastated if they show us her reaction to Tech's supposed death.

CAPTAIN REX MY LOVE YOU'VE COME HOME!! "I thought the end of the war would mean the end to losing more of our brothers" <- that better be about Tech and not about Cody, so help me god-

OMEGA'S NEW HAIRCUT :( she looks so much older now :((

STOP CROSSHAIR LOOKS SO FUCKING SAD. I feel terrible actually... this is like,, this is a shell of a man,, like,, this is a man who's got like,, nothing. He looks awful and I swear if he doesn't get some peace of mind I'm going to lose my mind.

"Omega's been waiting for us a long time." NO NO NO DON'T FUCKING DO THIS TO ME. I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD IF YOU DO A TIMESKIP, ANY MEASURE OF TIME THAT OMEGA HAD TO BE WITHOUT HER BROTHERS AND WONDERING WHEN THEY WERE GOING TO COME AND GET HER IT'S GOING TO BREAK ME. I fucking hate timeskips so much, I swear if she's been by herself for more than a year, or even just a year, I'm going to be PISSED. If she doesn't get the chance to be a kid like she deserves I'm going to fucking lose it.

PALPATINE?! "There is nothing of greater importance to secure the purpose of this Empire" <- y'all talking about cloning? About cloning Palpatine because you have to explain why "somehow Palpatine returned"???

HEY WHO THE FUCK IS THIS?!

Holy shit the animation is really good. Like that whole fighting montage?? The fucking scene on the bridge looks like,, fucking live action to me. Idk how to describe it but the animation is fuckng beautiful and I wish Star Wars did more animation because this is gorgeous.

FENNEC SHAND MY LOVE!! MY WIFE RETURNS!!! PLEASE BE IN MORE THAN ONE EPISODE MY QUEEN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!! and Cad Bane is there too ig-

"They are coming, for all of you." <- who is this. do not come for me but I cannot for the life of me figure out who this is. It's not Cody, I don't see the scar. Someone help me out here-

WOLFFE IS BACK BABY!!! FUCK I CANNOT WAIT TO SEE HIM IN TBB ART STYLE

HUNTER ON PABU! Thinking they probably went back after everything and I want to see how they've adjusted and settled in, please, I am begging.

My baby, my angel, myivida, the light of my life. Fuck it's so good to see and hear you again. If anything happens to you I swear to god-

LMAOO DID HUNTER JUST GET YOINKED BY A SPACE CROC?!?! WAIT THEY'RE ON THE BOAT WITH FENNEC!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA

There are two clips that allude to the fact that they get Crosshair out of there before they get Omega and I'm going feral over it. If this means we get them reuniting with Crosshair sooner than later I'm fucking ecstatic. Like because,, that's Crosshair's rifle and they clearly cropped the screen for the sake of the trailer, right? Right??

Hey where is the zillo beast?

ASAJJ VENTRESS??!?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?! You're telling me,, I get a season,, with Wrecker, Wolffe, Fennec, AND Asajj? Oh be still my beating heart. Anyone hear something meowing?

Also I know in the trailer it seems like she's facing off with TBB but the backgrounds don't really seem to line up so I'm hoping they don't actually face off with each other.

Tech literally only being indirectly mentioned and showing his death scene again but recolored and shit makes me feel all kinds of things.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

3 EPISODE PREMIERE?!?!?!?!?!?! fuck me.

Echo wasn't in this trailer enough and where the FUCK was Cody?!?!?!?!

Fuck.

[oatmilk-vampire]

Off My Mind || Eddie Munson x Reader

Eddie Munson x gn!ex!Reader

(Read part 2 here)

Summary: Eddie and his ex agree to meet up to talk over their relationship, but instead of getting back together as they originally intended, things get worse. Mostly Eddie POV.

Inspired by one of my favorite songs Off My Mind by Joe P. Give it a listen!

Word count: 1.2k of angst. Just angst.

TW: suicidal thoughts/ideation. Please DO NOT READ if this could be triggering for you.

A/n at end.

~~~

You and Eddie “went on a break” six months ago.

It was just supposed to be a few days, but soon one weekend turned into a week, and that week into a month, and now here you both are. You had finally reached out, asked him to meet you at the Hideaway to discuss your relationship.

This was meant to happen months ago, but it hadn’t and Eddie knew why. He knew you were going to end things for good instead of keeping him in relationship limbo. Not dating, not yet broken up. But he knew better. He knew it was over the day you walked out. You were just coming to clear your conscience, to smash his already broken heart.

You were just as gorgeous as the day you left. He used to call you his Angel, but now he knew better. Still, you were no devil; but he now had confirmation as to what you really were: an angel of death.

You had been there long before him if the empty glass on the table was any indication.

Instinctively he almost ran to you, wrapping you up in his arms, but then he remembered the nature of this visit and kept his hands to himself sitting across from you when in the past he had only ever sat on the same side.

“Eddie,” your voice wobbles but is still sweet as honey. “Thank you for meeting me. How are you?”

How is he? How is he, really? Well let’s start. He never went back to Hawkins after he recovered and you left. What was the point? If his lack of a high school diploma was really holding him back that much he would just get a GED, but he hadn’t done that yet and he knows he never will.

You fiddle with your damp napkin, ripping the corner off before setting it down.

“I’m going to go get another drink. You want anything?”

You didn’t even wait for his response to your first question, why would he think you’d bother waiting to hear his response to your second one?

But to his surprise you did. You stood there, staring at him, small smile on your lips only to be kind.

“Vodka soda.”

“Okay, be right back.”

While you go get another drink he thinks of ways to tell you he’s fine.

He would never tell you, but he pregamed before coming here. That’s why he’s so late. He drank more than he should have considering he drove himself. What’s one more vodka soda? Maybe then you’ll never even know that he’s lying.

He’s thinking about how you never said goodbye. You hadn’t, neither of you did. Goodbye meant you weren’t seeing each other again.

“Sorry about the wait.”

“‘T’s fine.” You don’t miss the way he slurs before he’s even taken a sip of the drink you’ve just bought him.

“How are you, Eddie? I’ve missed talking to you.”

“Got myself another lover.” He blurts out without considering how it’ll hurt you, or maybe he does. It's a lie anyway. He hadn't even wanted to touch his own body after you left, why would he let some random person?

“Oh. You do? That’s nice, I’m happy for you.” You on the other hand are not lying. You are happy for him. But that doesn’t stop your heart only being held together by a small thing called hope just irreplaceably shattered.

“God, I love her, I’ll never stop.”

“I’m happy for you.” You repeat, a tight smile on your face as you blink back the tears.

“Take her out and drive around and show her all of our favorite spots.”

“Eddie,” you begin but he cuts you off.

“I used to sit and cry. I felt like I could die.” His voice is so cold it sends a shiver down your spine. You don’t want your drink anymore, even if it was just a coke.

His eyes find yours over the rim of his glass just before he gulps it down.

“But now you’re off my mind.”

You left him pretty soon after that and despite his slowed movements and long-gone inhibitions he realized he fucked up. He just let you walk away from him for the second time.

You were supposed to be better by the summer, at least. You began having your problems in spring. The two of you chalked it up to the horrible strain fighting Vecna put on you, but you had every intention to have your relationship repaired by summertime. But summertime came and you were long gone.

Eddie doesn’t even blame you anymore, not that he ever really did before. He knows you deserve better. After all, you’re an angel and angels need to spread their wings.

Despite the hole he found himself growing darker the longer you two were apart, tonight’s the first time he’s actually considered it. It seems like a cliche, an outdated option, and yet he has every intention of drawing himself a bath when he gets home and making toast in the tub while still wearing all of his clothes. It’ll be the last outfit you ever see him in. Unless you come to his funeral, but he’s pretty sure Uncle Wayne will put him in some stupid suit, or have a closed casket depending on how fried out his hair looks. He doubts you’ll even come.

But the thought of tears pricking your eyes as you sob over his coffin makes him second think his plan. Despite his swirling mix of emotions he has never wanted to hurt you, he still doesn’t.

He drives home, knowing Uncle Wayne isn’t home tonight. Eddie had told him he planned on meeting with you so he cleared out, fully anticipating you’d be joining Eddie back home. Eddie didn’t have the heart to tell his uncle he hadn’t worked out that way, that he really lost you for good now and it was all his fault. Uncle Wayne would learn soon enough when he found his remains the next day, though.

He doesn’t even remember making it into the Munson trailer, let alone remembering if he had locked it back up after he’d entered. He wasn’t worried about it, though. What would anyone steal? Everything of any value was already gone.

He makes his bath, trying to decide if he deserves to burn in as much scorching water as the shitty plumbing allows or if he should freeze. In the end he decided on the cold side of the faucet, it would take less time.

The small tub is just about filled by the time he returns with their toaster. He only feels guilty when he realizes Uncle Wayne won’t be able to make toast in the morning anymore.

He plugs it in, thankful their bathroom is so small that the outlet really is placed haphazardly close to the tub. There wouldn’t be any issue with him reaching over and knocking it in.

He settles into the freezing tub, his wet clothes clinging to his body make him feel so much colder and weighed down. He watches as water sloshes over the side thanks to his bodyweight.

Usually he’d consider smoking before to take the edge off but he was already feeling much more relaxed.

Because now you’re off his mind.

~~~

Author note: I had a different, slightly less angsty more whump/happier ending in mind and luckily it'll still work if you guys want this to become a two-shot? (:

This isn't much but it was on my mind (ha) and I needed to get it out in order to focus on my other WIPs. I wrote this in one sitting.

I have never written a Y/N or Reader fic before, but currently have 4 more gender-neutral ones in the works with much happier endings.

Thank you for reading <3

[kindofsortofmaybe]

maybe gustho stargazing for the prompts <3

(also hiiiiii)

HIIII ESME!!!! thank you for the prompt!!! i'll be honest, this is super sappy and self-indulgent, but... oh well. it's also unedited so read at your own risk

Constellations

“Did you know that constellations are different in the human realm?” Gus said, breaking the comfortable silence between him and Matt.

“No, I didn’t, cause I’m not a nerd,” Matt shot back, never one to pass up an opportunity to tease his friend. He leaned back onto the blanket they had laid out in the looking glass graveyard, shifting from sitting to laying down for a better view of the stars through the trees. He glanced sideways at Gus. “Tell me about them, though. So I can use your facts to impress everyone, obviously.” An absolute lie. He wanted Gus to tell him about human realm constellations because he could listen to Gus talk for hours. Gus shot Matt a crooked grin as he laid down beside him. 

“Whatever you say, Matty. For starters, their sky isn’t as purple as ours at night. It’s more like a navy blue. And it’s absolutely bright blue during the day, which is weird. And you can’t really see the stars from most places anymore, because of all the lights in their cities.”

Matt frowned. “But we have lights in our cities, and I can see the stars just fine.”

“Yeah, but their lights work different than ours. It’s a whole thing. But that’s not the point! Anyway, we went camping while we were there, and out in the woods, you can see a crazy amount of stars. Luz taught me some of the constellations.

“The famous ones are the big dipper and the little dipper, which are called that cause they both look like spoons. And they’re also both part of bigger bear constellations, I think. And a lot of their constellations have stories, like this one called Gemini. It’s also called the twins, because it’s of two brothers that were put in the sky because one died and the other one was so sad that he asked their—well, this guy who was kind of like their Titan—anyway, he asked him to make him and his brother immortal, so the Titan made them a constellation. There’s lots of interesting stories like that, and I think I want to go back sometime so I can find a book at the human library about them. I want to know every story of every star.”

Matt soaked in every word of Gus’s rambling. He had long ago stopped gazing at the stars, opting instead to gaze at the boy beside him as he spoke animatedly. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that he must look stupidly lovestruck, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was true, anyway. Suddenly, Gus turned to look at him, and Matt felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“You should come with me.”

“What?” 

“Back to the human realm,” Gus clarified. “You should come with me sometime. I can show you the constellations.”

“Oh,” Matt said dumbly. He could feel heat rushing to his cheeks. “Alright, loser, it’s a plan. Me and you. The human realm will never recover.” 

Gus laughed, turning his eyes back towards the sky. “Yeah. Me and you. It’s a plan.”

Matt continued to watch him, unable to look away. He couldn’t help it; Augustus was magnetic, electrifying in an addictive way, and to be honest, he was downright gorgeous. Matt couldn’t get enough of him.

But what if Gus could get enough of Matt? Matt wasn’t stupid; he knew the chances of Gus feeling the same way about him were slim. What if Gus got tired of him, or found something—or someone—better in the human realm? Was Matt worth coming back to?

Matt chewed the inside of his cheek nervously, struggling to ask what he wanted to ask. Eventually, he bit the bullet, and softly said, “Will you come back?”

“What do you mean?” Gus replied. He again met Matt’s eyes, his brow furrowed. Matt cleared his throat.

“From the human realm. I know it’s full of all your favorite nerd stuff and you have friends there now, and their constellations are probably way cooler than ours, but… When you go to the human realm, are you gonna come back?” Will you come back to me? 

“Oh.” Gus’s face softened. “Well…” He took Matt’s hand, and the older boy felt his heart beat wildly against his ribcage at the feeling of Gus’s palm pressed flush against his own. “There’s kinda this guy on the Boiling Isles… He’s annoying and rude and waaaaay dramatic, but I kinda…” Gus hesitated. “I kinda like him. So, y’know, even if I found everything I ever wanted in the human realm, I’d at least come back to see him.”

Matt didn’t know what to say. He was rendered speechless, his face bright red. Finally, he cleared his throat and looked back up at the purple sky, breaking their prolonged eye contact.

“Well, that’s super embarrassing.” His voice was too loud. “But… I bet he likes you too. And I bet he’d be glad to see you, if you did decide to visit.” Matt gave Gus’s hand a gentle squeeze. Gus squeezed back.

“Good. Cause I think I’d always come back for him.” He paused. “But I wouldn’t have to, if he came with me.”

“I think he’d go anywhere with you,” Matt said, almost too quickly. He didn’t mean to; it was just true, and the words practically fell out of his mouth. 

“I’ll hold him to that.”

[kadavernagh]

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Outside Regan's old cabin PARTIES: Regan and Jade SUMMARY: Regan and Jade reunite. CONTENT: Unsanitary tw, some intense injury descriptions

It’s not as bad as it looks.

The trees all had their leaves now, and even with the barrier of the canopy, sunlight still reached the ground, letting in more life than any of the thick windows in Saol Eile, and any of the matching ones lining the cabin. When the once-familiar place came into view, Regan’s legs grew unsteady, and she had to stop. Exhausted. She was exhausted. That was all. Where else was she going to go? Not Elias. Wynne, too, would need to recover, even if it was in a different sense than her butchered presumably former-friend. The ham child was in mourning. Jade was not in her apartment. Van was in Regan’s old apartment, and would be terrified by the intrusion. Regan considered walking into the morgue or Sly Slice, but she hadn’t showered in days, her clothes had brown bloodstains (how kind the airport security did not care), and her hair looked like she’d run her latex gloves through it for an hour. The morgue might think she was dead. Actually, perhaps that wasn’t a bad outcome. She would get a bath. 

Regan strained up the simple staircase – a few planks of wood, if they could be called stairs – and stood there, staring at the door like it was something she’d never seen in her life (do you know what a door is, Siobhan had asked, and maybe she didn’t). Once again, she shook the exhaustion away. What had stopped her? Right, she did not have a key. All this way, looking like the walking dead (but unfortunately not feeling like it), and she forgot that she no longer had a key. Maybe that was for the best, because the tremor that had run through her legs now reached her arms and her chin. With a quiet whuff, Regan placed her bag on the ground, sat herself on the stairs, and closed her eyes. She wouldn’t fall asleep here. She knew what was out there (or at least knew enough to know that she did not know what was out there), and without her screams rattling these woods for a month, wildlife probably surged back into the area. She’d wait for an hour, she decided. And then she would leave, try something else. Regan nearly choked, thinking about the words, the promises she and Jade had exchanged, rings in their hands and lemmings by their side. Jade had the nerve to compare what they had to Fate, and Regan had the nerve to agree. So this would put it to the test. If Jade was meant to show up here, if this was Regan’s future, not the one she had just left behind across the sea, Jade would come. And if not, Regan had enough life left in her to make it back into town and figure something else out (probably).

What Regan did not have, however, was a phone, or any other way to tell time.

And what she did have, was an overestimation of her ability to not fall asleep after everything that happened over the last few days, with a full day of travel on top of it. The woods were not the bottom of a lake, they were not an old banshee jail with iron bars, and they were not next to the bedroom of a woman who told her she breathed too much. The woods, even if they did not deliver her Jade to her, would offer the best sleep she’d had all month.

———

Maybe it was the fact that she’d made this very trek about a dozen times already, but Jade was finally starting to reach a level of ‘unbothered’ when it came to her cabin in the woods. Especially now, with the sun setting, letting life take on different colors around her as she went along the path. Like a cute little postcard. (One that she would have sent… If…) And like, sure, the forest sucked for multiple reasons, but she wasn’t gonna pretend it couldn’t be a gorgeous gorgeous girl when the light hit just right, okay?

Her visit was meant to be short anyway, only two things to check off her list once she reached her destination: First, to feed Snickers some ramen, and catch up a little bit. (Maybe bribe another excerpt of Regan’s journals out of the pixie), and second, to grab another knife (or two) for a night of hunting. She was getting a little sloppy, leaving too many of those behind. (Cause… that was the worst she’d done these past few weeks).  

But nope! Jade was not pondering on those horrors, even if some bruises still refused to go. Cause she was back to living in the present and all, so instead of making herself sad for no reason, she hummed a little tune under her breath as she marched on. (Funky town, to be precise). And when the cabin came into view, she was totally relieved, cause it meant she was like, even closer to getting back in town and fulfilling her duty. 

There was… a different vibe about tonight, though. And by vibe she meant, something was obstructing the door. Ugh. Was this another banshee trying to chop her in tiny parts just for being super lovable? Or maybe it was someone close to… any of the undead she’d been messing with, tracking her for revenge. Yikes, somehow the latter was the worst of the two scenarios. Jade had to get closer to decipher what exactly she was looking at. (Ooooh! A package? Except… no way Amazon delivered out here) (And she didn’t order anything anyway). 

She stared a little longer at the silhouette by her doorstep. And the bag. There was a bag on the side, but who cared about that? All Jade could focus on was the adorable lump, with streaks of white hair sticking out. (Not unlike her old broom). She’d recognize that lump anywhere. She… That was— Her heart seemed to get it before her eyes and her head connected the dots, cause it pounded wild against her chest, almost as if one muscle alone could propel her forward from the sheer strength it pounded with. 

Not a banshee, then. Her banshee. Regan. 

Regan.

She jogged, nope, she sprinted the final stretch, cause… were they even a decent love story if there was no dramatic running? Taking it slow would’ve suited her muscles better, but slow meant one more second Jade didn’t have Regan in her arms. And that just… didn’t work for her. The times when she tried to be chill about her love were gone the moment Regan put a ring on her finger. All in, or bust.

Jade reached the steps a beat later, kneeling down to Regan’s height. It was an awkward angle, the plank was stabbing her shin, and she couldn’t fully wrap her arms around Regan the way she desperately needed to, but what was a little bit of discomfort when Regan was here again? She kept herself upright, a palm flat on the top step, and her left hand reached up, shaky fingertips rediscovering Regan’s face. All jokes aside, Jade had no illusions that she’d ever get to do this again, brush her hair, cup her cheek. The rock solidifying in her throat was a reminder of that. She thought she’d lost this. Forever. 

But it was hardly a fairytale reunion. Shockingly no tears came, but Jade’s gaze soon hardened, the more it traveled across Regan’s face. She had seen more liveliness in the undead she hunted. What hell did those… nope, play nice. What horrors did Regan witness? How much did she punish her body? Did Regan even have a second to close her eyes in Ireland? She doubted those old farts believed in sleep. And, how many hours had Regan been out here waiting all uncomfy sitting on narrow steps?  

“Regan” Jade choked, and someone would’ve definitely made fun of how quiet she sounded. If said someone had been awake, of course. And okay, maybe not. Cause there was a brokenness to her voice that would’ve had Regan panicking. “Baby,” Jade’s fingertips danced across her love’s pale skin, face still buried between her knees, and lifted it just enough to press warm lips against a cold forehead. It didn’t stir Regan awake either. And as much as Jade was vibrating for Regan to be here with her, she didn’t have the heart to disturb her sleep. 

(Regan was here, by the way. She was going with the vibes right now, but she’d fully have to process that later).

Jade considered picking her up and carrying her inside (as if they needed more marriage imagery), and just waiting it out. But could Jade fully trust her body yet? Not really, not when it felt like she was still recovering from… oh, that was irrelevant. (A nightmare month to put it mildly). But then, heavy eyelids fluttered slowly, revealing a disoriented gaze, and Jade waited (she always did, always would), until recognition dawned behind her favorite blue eyes. Her belly swooped, nay, somersaulted when their eyes met.

Funny. Funny cause it was Regan who had opened her eyes, but it was Jade’s body that felt awakened, her lungs thawed, finally taking on crisp air, her heart racing to that beat only reserved for Regan, her skin buzzing for connection. Regan woke up, but it was Jade who felt like she was seeing the world again. “Hi,” she tried again, cut off immediately by arms wrapping over her shoulders and Jade could only melt forward, angle be damned. She buried her face in the crook of Regan’s neck, a shiver running down her spine, responding to Regan’s fingers tangling in her hair. Her hand trailed down to Regan’s shoulder, to her arm, squeezing. Real. She was real. Wearing her jacket too, apparently. Her chest swelled with love, shuddering to let some of it out.

“Oh, you’re here” she whispered, trailing up to Regan’s face again. She stroked her cheek, her jaw, recalling her favorite path. “You’re here… you’re…” The arm keeping her from laying all her weight on Regan trembled and Jade pulled away, there were equally important things to do, anyway. Like losing herself (or finding herself, really) in Regan’s eyes. In her head, they still sparkled the way they did when she last saw her, even if there were more pronounced eye bags around them. Ireland hadn’t taken that away from her. Regan hadn’t reverted or been rebooted to ‘instrument’ mode. And oh, right… she was gonna do something about them kneeling. Begrudgingly, Jade moved away, helping Regan get on her feet too. There was so much she needed to say and do, that she wasn’t sure how to proceed. (Nobody ever prepared you for your big love to come back after all hope was lost, actually) (Maybe she’d be the one to write that book). So she found herself quiet instead, letting gravity do its thing. When everything else failed, their bodies still knew what to do. She tipped forward until their foreheads touched, her hands itching did another round of exploration. She caressed Regan’s face longer this time, without a rush, traveling down shoulders and arms, until she grasped her hands, looking down at them. 

She noticed the ring. She felt it, as their fingers tangled, but her heart pounded with dread at the thought of turning Regan’s palms up, searching for new scars. Later. Cause Regan was here (did she mention that?), with her. And it was perfect the way it was, even…

“You need a shower” she huffed out a laugh. A real one, not the ‘see I’m totally fine’ giggle she’d been using lately. And look, personally she didn’t give a flying f…udge how long Regan had been marinating, but she knew from experience how crappy it felt to go around with dry blood on you. (Should she be worried?) (Um. Whose…blood was it, actually?) 

And like, maybe the cabin wasn’t anyone’s ideal place for some R&R (certainly not hers), but it had enough. Ever since she and Van got rudely attacked for being adorable, she’d try making the place more lively. In case of an emergency sort of way. “Can I take care of you?” She asked, softly. There was a huge problem with her request though, which was, that Jade didn’t wanna let go yet. Her hands had settled in her favorite spot, wrapped around Regan’s lower back. She would have to be pushed away, plain and simple. “I have… more than an over ripe banana inside. And like, there’s water… and um, your Baxter State Park shirt,” she pointed out, nuzzling Regan’s cheek. 

Jade didn’t wanna speed up any of this. They had so much to talk about, she knew that. Part of it scared her. Part of her wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle it (she, the toughest girl in the world, terrified of the pain Regan had endured). But it could wait. They had… nope, not forever, obviously. But time. So much of it, actually. And she needed all of it.  

———

The first thing Regan registered was warmth – warmth pressed against her body, brushing against her forehead. She hadn’t been dreaming. There was only a long dark tunnel that she was emerging from, the world shifting into focus. She could smell (hear? no) Jade and… pine? Regan’s nose wrinkled. She blinked a couple times, bleary, seeing dark clouds of death wafting on the breeze, streaming like ribbons. Her mind supplied possibilities. Rabbit. Raccoon. Skunk. Porcupine… okay, she was there. Awake. Outside. Cabin, right. Regan blinked one more time, actually waking up, that cloud dissipating as her eyes filled blue. And she stared into huge, shiny hazel ones, color shifting by the second, and almost screamed. Her heart burst into her throat instead. “Jade!”

Regan lunged before either of them could breathe, ignoring her body’s complaints and hooking her arms around Jade’s (it was her it was Jade) neck and pulling her close, selfishly into what looked like a rather uncomfortable position. Jade didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she was… palpating Regan’s shoulder and arm like a first year medical school student? A little weird. Well, weird for Jade to do it. Regan would palpate freely, expertly, and without judgement. “You’re real, right? Checking. Based on experience–” The hot breath against her neck answered that question. Dream Jades were nice – when she wasn’t busy resenting them and they weren’t found at the bottom of a lake – but they never behaved like this; they never wanted her so much. Regan’s brain stuttered at everything. None of it felt real but there was every indication that it was. Shouldn’t she follow the evidence?

Also, it was… dark, or getting there. She figured it had been morning when she came out here – close to noon, maybe, but how long had she been sleeping? (How long had Jade been here?) The sun was gathering close to the horizon, well past the point of any magnificent, romantic sunset colors. And… it was hard to tell in the dwindling light, but Jade’s lip seemed swollen. No, it definitely was. Regan was an expert on the subject matter (not the swelling, but actually that, too).

Feeling Jade’s touch, hearing her voice again, made Regan’s heart swell like she had cardiac edema. Upon autopsy she probably would have realized it was love and gratitude, but she wasn’t a Medical Examiner at the moment. She wasn’t sure what she was. She thought Jade had been lost to her, that everything had been lost to her. (No, it was just almost everything, none of which mattered this very second.) Regan allowed Jade to guide her to her feet; she was still sluggish and exhausted, and apparently not the only one. Why was Jade moving so stiffly right now? She had been careful, right? Shouldn’t– Jade’s hands found their familiar places, and as their foreheads met, the half-thought became only a long sigh. Peace unlike any she’d felt in weeks settled over her. This was real. This was home. She made it.

Regan couldn’t recall the last time she helped someone to their feet, but she was decently sure it didn’t involve running your hands down their body afterward. She had been gone a month. Maybe things changed, though certainly not between the two of them. It wasn’t like she was about to let go of Jade any time soon – they had to make up for a lot of days without this. Regan’s bones felt malleable and marrowless but she could definitely lean, and as Jade’s hands so easily reminded her what she’d been missing, she rolled her head against Jade’s, riding her heartbeat. Somewhere in the ballpark of 120 bpm. “Your heart is racing,” she was insultingly quiet, and more pleased than concerned. Jade’s well-intended hands circled around healing wounds, and Regan’s muscles tightened for a flickering second. She hadn’t decided how she was going to address that yet. Hadn’t decided anything in the last 5 minutes (600 heartbeats). So she swallowed the throb and let Jade’s gentle hands skim over her bicep, by pure chance (or at least her eyes being elsewhere entirely) missing the hole in the jacket. Her hands found Regan’s ring instead, and Regan couldn’t quite decipher Jade’s expression. Maybe the fact Regan braced herself for the need to pull her hands away had something to do with that. It wasn’t necessary though. And as Regan’s fingertips brushed over the other set of hands and heart she had given Jade, the kind around her finger, she lingered there. “Soggy of you. You didn’t even know I was coming back.” And she still wore it. Regan poked at the ring. Jade made the old thing shine. 

She stared into Jade’s eyes for a long time – how long, she couldn’t say, but who cared? – and wondered if anyone else saw them so bright. Not… not in the same context, necessarily. Anyone. Anyone at all. But was there someone? Right, the drowned– no, drenched ring. Regan could only imagine what the last month had been like for her. And now wasn’t the time to ask, but… slowly, she slid her hand out from Jade’s, raising it to give that swollen lip a light touch. “You’re off the hook for now, but tell me later, okay?” There was a later now. It struck her as she said it.

Regan took an unsteady breath, but her throat was a little less dry now (et al). “I– I went to your apartment first. You didn’t come. One of your roommates – blue hair – told me to leave – can you believe that? A human telling me to – and that she didn’t know where you went. So I came here, because I thought you might – I wasn’t sure if you were using this place.” A shiver scurried across her back, making it tighten in pain. She wasn’t sure if it was the way Jade’s hands probed at tired muscles, or the thought of the cabin itself. Either way, she would bury it in the folds of her brain like a cemetery plot in favor of at least 69 other things. There was even a list to organize those for her (the list needed organizing first).

Regan didn’t have very much right now. Not only in terms of what she was carrying in her bag stuffed with airport purchases, but in general. She did have Jade, though. She still did. She reached for and into the bag, inching past some dried fruit, trail mix (no m&ms left), and the bandages, until she fished out exactly what she had been looking for. The paper was wrinkled and not exactly free of bloodstains or water damage, but she had it. What more did she need? 

“I got your letter.” She looked up, the bags under her eyes dark enough to be orbital ecchymosis, breath hitching enough to be a sob, pathetic enough to be a human, but with hope in her eyes. The letter couldn’t have been more clear. Jade wanted her back and wanted Regan to know that. But would that change if she knew what happened to Elias? Or Wynne? The ham child? Her breathing picked up too much too fast at the thought and she sputtered, very un-banshee-like (which was fine, because she was not a banshee, was she?). “I made so many mistakes. I don’t know where to…” Elias had been all but silent on the flight back. The ham child grieved. It was only Wynne who saw Regan’s uncertainty and was able to meet it with their own judgement, the kind that healed. And now Jade took all of her remaining uncertainty and filled the cracks. Take care of… so much for all of that self-sufficiency that had been drilled into her. Regan swallowed back the rest of what was climbing her throat, and pointed at the door. “I should start with that shower, right?”

Because Jade was right about that; she smelled, and not in the tasteful, decomposition sort of way. (I’m always right sounded off in her head.) Except… when Regan stared at the door of the cabin, it still put scalpels in her belly. Couldn’t she just– come on. Leanbh, come– she looked to Jade at the right moment, cutting herself off, offering an alternative. She’d go in if Jade was there. And she was there. So she would go. She was tired enough that her body didn’t fight her any more.

What greeted her was both familiar and not. Inside, there were weapons. Rows and rows. Swords and axes gleaming as they lined the walls, a crossbow on the table, wooden stakes piled in an open trunk. Regan froze like her leg had been caught in a bear trap. Her daggers were buried underground in a casket miles away, or across the sea, depending on their use. She never wanted to see them again; that was one of the other few things she was certain of right now. These weren’t those daggers, she reminded herself, but they… she could only think of Jade using them. Of the things she went after that demanded such heavy artillery. Of her hands knowing how to use each and every one of these to lethal effect. Of how dangerous all of it was and how sharp these blades would be against human flesh. Regan tried to hide the instinct to slink back out, because some things were too complicated to explain or even understand for herself. When she turned toward the bathroom, they were out of sight, but the image of the axes burned behind her eyes like harsh sunlight beamed off of them. Add that to the list. Not the list in the letter. A new list of things that Regan needed to know about. She had a churning feeling in her stomach that she would keep discovering more.

Regan wasn’t sure if Jade would know to give her privacy or not. Regan wasn’t even sure if she wanted it. She knew she didn’t want to split off again. In fact, she couldn’t right now. It dredged up the lake, the way her hand knew better than she did, because it was familiar with both the sharpest failures and most unconditional affection. Regan looked at Jade with a new kind of weariness in her voice. “First aid kit. Where is it? It’s not – my shirt isn’t my blood. I mean, most of it. The front– but I need the kit, for after.” She looked sideways at Jade’s purple, puffy lip again. “Were you careful enough to not need it yourself?” Her eyebrow managed a small rise. Regan released a shaky breath, “I’m going to shower and–” Clean these up. “I’ll be with you soon?” She offered Jade the best reassurance she could: the smallest, tightest smile (she did remember how), and she kept the door open a crack, because the thought of closing it with Jade on the other side made her heart seize… and, fine, hearts couldn’t do that, technically, but this had to be a close approximation.

———

Another laugh tumbled from her lips. The kind that totally would’ve hurt her ribs a few days ago. Cause, right…nope, um, forget about the blunders, the oversights, the boo-boos. Forget about that second accident (the wrong kind of blonde accident) tipping her closer to a full-blown breakdown. Anywhoosies, Jade had no reason to care about the past, when her focus could fully return to her present. To Regan. Who sounded the perfect mix of smug and dazzled to realize her heart was wilding. Oh, how Jade loved her. Why did she ever let her go? (It was rhetorical, thank you). “You’re not supposed to call me out on it,” she rolled her eyes, playfulness twinkling in them. “Whose fault is it, huh?” She gave Regan’s hips a light squeeze. The way her body seemed to tighten every now and then wasn’t lost on Jade, and she wasn’t insecure to believe this was a reaction to her touch. (Puh-lease). But she tried not to dwell on the why yet. Later.

And Regan was full of callouts, apparently. Except this was totally hypocritical, cause she was wearing her ring too so? Pot meet kettle! (She was calling dibs on the kettle, even though sonically, the opposite felt more accurate). Her face fell momentarily, cause Regan was messing with her, obviously, but she was right. There was a time when Jade didn’t know she was coming back. There was a time, post cryptic message, that she thought she’d received the wrong kind of goodbye message. That something had gone so south there was no coming back from it. It was fueled by Elias’ online disappearance and Wynne’s growing hopelessness in every update. Could anyone blame her? 

She exhaled a puff through her nose, intended to be a laugh. She could get back in the mood, again! No dwelling allowed until Regan said so. “You like me soggy…” she licked her lips (ouch), which Regan seemed to be focused on too. When did she not, really. But this time concern was etched across her face. Later, Jade pleaded in her head, or maybe it shone in her eyes too, cause Regan’s fingertips were healing against her mouth, putting a pin in another convo. “Yes ma’am,” she agreed, even if she knew Regan might get mad later. She’d rather have her mad here, where she could protect her than away where… nope. LATER.

There were a few things they could talk about, even if Jade would rather hold onto Regan for the rest of the night. And the following day, and… She scoffed at the mention of her roommate, Kelsey, as Regan went on to explain the little journey after landing in Wicked’s Rest soil. “I’ll have to update you on my living situation, it’s been a little… different while you were away,” but that part went to the later category. Cause she’d have to go into Elias (how was he, by the way?), and then the banshees, and then Van. Nope. 

Reluctantly, Jade let Regan’s hands go, cause she needed them or whatever, to reach for her bag. Was she craving that banana? Really? Did she not see how brown— Oh… Jade watched her pull out a familiar paper sheet. But like, weren’t all paper sheets familiar? Duh, she knew what this one was about: Her emergency letter. Except it looked just as rough, if not more than Regan did. Why was it so stained? Jade shook her question away, her eyes bright with confidence. “I meant every word. You and me, if you want it.” This didn’t need a later. This wouldn’t change even if Regan told her she killed her granny with her bare hands. (In fact, she might even cheer a little bit for that). 

Something about the letter in her hands was giving Regan some nasty flashbacks though, and Jade wondered how the letter was attached to negative memories. (What was the emergency that led to her opening it, actually?) Jade felt Regan’s sobs in her own lungs, in her ribcage, rattling her. So much for her heart slowing down. This had to be studied, surely. How much Regan affected her. She couldn’t see Regan like this, but it was unavoidable. Ireland had been hell on earth, that was pretty obvious. Her hand was steady, her thumb caressing Regan’s face. She would love to crack a joke and find excuses for every single thing that Regan claimed to be a mistake. Turning it into some sort of girlboss moment. She was a pro at twisting situations and absolving herself from fault. She’d do it for Regan too. Except… She figured Regan would wanna atone. (She was honorable, unlike her). So instead, she spoke gently. “You can tell me about them… when you’re ready.”

But first, a shower, Jade nodded in agreement. Without letting Regan’s left hand go, she pulled out the keys inside her pocket and opened the door. She guided her inside slowly, stopping when Regan froze behind her. Jade turned, picking on the apprehension swimming in her eyes, as she observed her old cabin repurposed as an armory. Something stirred inside her. Jade didn’t like that look. Was the amount of weapons wrong? Was it the variety? The organization? And why did one uncertain look from Regan have Jade wishing she could throw every single weapon into the bottom of a lake? (She wouldn’t) (Couldn’t. Geez, she had to get a grip). She gave Regan’s hand an encouraging squeeze, waiting. 

Eventually, Regan let go of whatever was holding her back at least enough for them to make it to the bathroom. And… not that Jade would ever entertain living in the cabin but one of the things she loved most was having a bathroom all to herself at all times, if it was her wish. Since that banshee attack, she’d brought some of her own stuff into the bathroom as well. It ended up being super useful actually, for those nights when she was extra bloody or covered in zombie sludge and felt bad about going back to Elias’ place. So Regan might find some hair products and fancy soaps if she were to want that. She didn’t know when the last time Regan had felt soap bubbles on her skin was, but by her estimation, it had to be days. Maybe more, she wouldn’t put past those weirdos in Ireland to bathe in some questionable stuff. 

She was gonna suggest using her products actually, but oh, Regan looked at her like she wanted her to leave and… Jade didn’t understand. Wasn’t a month of agony enough? She pointed at the small cabinet, quietly answering Regan’s question about the first aid kit. What was going on? Jade really tried not to look like a kicked puppy but it wasn’t her fault she had giant wet eyes. And, UGH. Alright, unfortunately not everything was about her all the time. This definitely had nothing to do with her. Regan didn’t wanna be watched, not now at least, not the way she’d learned to enjoy Jade’s attention. 

And that was fine, (wrong, but fine), but leaving? “Nuh-uh, nope,” she blurted out, reeling from what felt like rejection. She waited, gaze fixed on Regan’s. Hoping she'd understand how much she needed this. That there was no playfulness behind her words, no teasing smirk, no quirked eyebrow. “I’m not going anywhere,” I don’t think I could, was what she meant.

Jade could definitely chill by the toilet, right? She wasn’t even gonna suggest getting in with her, which would’ve been what the Jade from 2023 would’ve done. The staring continued, her eyes shifting from hurt to confusion. But Regan seemed to go back on her words, not kicking her out yet. Okay… tentative, Jade approached. The thing about approaching Regan, it was always magnetic, her body shifted to fit what first demanded her attention. For now? Removing the jacket, Jade’s gift. She reached for the lapels slowly peeling them away, finally noticing the hole in the fabric. Her brows furrowed. Later. More things to add to the list. (Not the letter, the list of things they had to discuss). Regan was resisting now, standing in the middle of the bathroom, only her shirt keeping her injuries a secret. And Jade had a rock lodged in her throat. What was Regan scared of showing her?

She grabbed the hem, but let Regan dictate how much help was needed. Jade pinched the fabric at the arms, gingerly making space for Regan to slide her arms, one after the other. Until all that was left was the neck, which Jade helped pull over her head, revealing Regan’s naked torso.

Oh. 

Jade took in the injuries with the eye of a slayer, quiet and observant (a bloody bandage on her upper arm, a dirty one on her stomach). Injuries were nothing she hadn’t seen before. But these she felt like they were her own. Her heartbeat raised even higher, her throat burned, fingertips zapped with the need to do something. Bring justice to this. But there was no one to pay for it in front of her. Only Regan. Instinctually she tried turning Regan around, checking her back for other potential injuries, but the recoil was instant. Crap. Jade beat herself up for it and retreated, bowing for a second and then looking up at Regan. She hoped the anger boiling in her chest, no doubt showing in her eyes at whoever caused those injuries wasn’t misinterpreted. She wouldn’t ask for answers. Not until Regan was ready. 

An apology bubbled in her throat. Not that it could get out with the giant knot obstructing it. What was she sorry for, exactly? She could've stopped this before it even happened. That was it. She let Regan go away in the name of what, exactly? Respecting her decisions? Duty? Screw that, actually. She should've been more toxic. She should’ve fought her, leaving things in the worst place if it meant Regan knew where she stood about going back to Ireland. She didn’t apologize, nope. But she let the tears fall in silence, realizing they were the first real ones since they reunited (she lasted a lot longer than she’d thought!) 

It did feel like the oxygen was getting sucked out of the room exponentially the more she stared at Regan’s bandages, though. It was hypocritical of her, in a way that was strange. Cause it was like, weirdly self-aware. She had been battered, shot, and stabbed in a matter of days. Regan getting hurt? That was as wrong as people who put cereal before milk.  

But even with the vestiges of violence peppered across Regan's body, Jade still marveled at the sight. Cause it was Regan in front of her. Real. Back in her life. And…how was she real, actually? How did she exist for Jade to look at, for her touch, for her to love? She did, for whatever reason. And Jade’s mission here, to love her, was the simplest thing in the world. Easy peasy. She would not fail at it. It was hard to fail when something came to her as natural as breathing. (She didn't want to question why hunting had never felt as breezy, if that was what she was born to do). 

“I'm gonna give you a kiss,” Jade whispered, rubbing Regan’s ring finger invoking the tacit promise they’d made to each other. Her lips ghosted over Regan’s, faint, just a brush, cause it was all her bruises could take. She so needed more than this, but the small action seemed to bring a small sense of relief in both of them. “I love you,” she kept thinking of what Regan was hiding under those bandages, of what she was hiding on her back, of what she was carrying in her heart. But a shower first. A shower would do her good. She could help with that. “Hands on my shoulders,” she instructed, with a smile a millimeter shy of becoming suggestive. Incorrigible. She reached to unbutton her pants, hunched to slide them down (ignoring both the weight of Regan’s hand on her injured shoulder, and the resistance from what was likely a broken rib on the mend), and finished helping Regan out of her dirty clothes and into the tub. 

She itched to get inside help further but she had done enough, Regan needed some me time. “I’ll be here, on the toilet. I can hum for you, I can tell you about Lu and Mel. I’d offer my silence, of course… but you had 30 plus days of that, I have to make up for lost time,” she turned around when she heard the first splash of water, giving Regan her privacy, and busying herself with something else. What…oh! Right. She grabbed both first aid kits. They hadn’t been used much until the week before. So Regan would have enough to work with. And… um, she could give her space for that. She could leave if that was needed, look from the door like a needy cat, eyes on the ground as Regan patched herself up again. She could do that. And then later… Later. 

———

The bathroom door was half-closed for only a fraction of a second before Regan heard it push open behind her, Jade trailing in, her eyes so shiny and wet they reflected every bit of light this place had to offer. If Regan was supposed to be annoyed… she just wasn’t. Relief pooled in her sinuses instead. Maybe this complicated things, what Jade would see, but Regan suddenly didn’t like doors very much. Disliked them, actually, even worse than a certain someone’s prickly white beard hairs that ended up everywhere. What were they good for, anyway, doors? Privacy? Who needed– okay, privacy was one of Regan’s favorite things. A hobby, even, along with yogurt and looking for dead fish that washed up on the beach. Yes, those were the three. But when Jade was on the other side of the door, all bets were off. She’d dislike yogurt if it stood between them. Add the Atlantic Ocean to the list, too. Besides, Jade looked… wounded. And it wasn’t the same as the stiffness she’d been walking around with (or the purple of her lip, more obvious than ever under the bathroom lighting). I’m not going anywhere. Regan gave her a sideways look, then a nod of understanding. “You and me,” she confirmed. She found herself drifting closer to Jade, because that’s where her body always tugged her. Even death was just a whine in her ear in comparison. 

Regan didn’t fight Jade’s fingers on her jacket – or… well, their jacket? – and her arm felt decent enough that she didn’t flinch as the leather bunched off. But standing there in her shirt, the one that might as well have been Elias’s shirt for all the blood he left on it, made her skin rise with chills that seemed to poke up from beneath. This was why Jade was initially left on the other side of the door. But Jade knew. She saw it without seeing it. She probably collected more injuries than Regan had on a daily basis given the teeth and claws on those spawn (actually, she couldn’t think about that right now – and the weapons). And what else was Regan going to do, keep Jade’s hands off of her? Never again. Even Putrecia’s haggish hands on her cheek had made her long for Jade’s touch. And that was only a single day since she’d last had it. So… Regan’s hand hooked onto Jade’s hip as Jade reached for her shirt. It wasn’t that kind of touch (soon, though?) and she was under no illusion as to why her shirt was about to come off, but she pulled Jade a little closer, for the simple reason that she could.

Her hand had to drop only a moment later (more painful than the gash on her stomach) but it had been worth it. She didn’t particularly need help here… she thought, until her shirt rode up along her back and she tamped down on her lip to keep from making a sound. Jade seemed to sense it anyway and slowed, helping with the final stretch. Something started crumbling in her stomach, some pit forming, deep as a grave, at this kind of help.

It only grew as Jade looked over her. No surprise seemed to register, which was a relief, at least. Jade had anticipated something like this, surveying it with the kind of look she’d expect from a professional, and– Regan whuffed out a breath and was about to reach for Jade’s hip again, reassure her that it was fine, not as bad as it looked, but then Jade tried to turn her by the shoulder and Regan jumped back, wide-eyed, like she’d just dodged a swipe from one of the swords now lined up in the cabin like a row of soldiers. “What are you doing? That isn’t– you can’t. Not that.” Jade’s response was as quick as Regan’s and she dropped away accordingly like she’d been whipped. Regan looked in her eyes and, sure, there wasn’t shock, but the green of her irises brightened while the browns grew darker than Regan had ever seen them. 

Who hurt you, Jade had asked when they met – a joke, a quick reply online. Now Regan saw the same question howling across Jade’s face, fury where there had previously been amusement, in an utterly different context. Regan was not as confused this time. She couldn’t say no one.

For a second, Regan wasn’t sure what was happening. They fell into silence. Guilt dribbled through her like the worst fondue, or like blood guzzling from an arterial wound, chased by the urge to apologize. Like she said, she had made so many mistakes. And now Jade was looking at some of them, probably feeling something parallel (not guilt, though, Regan figured, since there would be no rationale for that – rage was more likely). “It’s not as bad as it looks.” She said it out loud now. And it was true, wasn’t it? A little? Her arm was fine; her stomach was getting there, slowed only by the material of the blade. It was her back that throbbed with an unfamiliar pain and filled her with humiliation. 

The kiss Jade announced immediately became one of Regan’s favorites, putting all concern to rest. It was barely there, Jade’s lips probably hurting (so maybe not all concern), but Jade was so soft, everything about this so wonderfully familiar and taken away from her for so long (by herself…), and Jade’s breath filled her with happier memories. Everything hurt just a little bit less. Regan reached out with a tired hand, searching for Jade’s. She cupped her other hand over Jade’s, ring over ring, and took a moment to appreciate the warmth of her favorite person against her skin. “I love you. Is fiú níos mó ná gach cnámh ar domhan tú.” She mustered a small, tight smile again. “Not a single bone is better, that means. Except for the ones your skeleton consists of, perhaps, but those will be mine, hm? You’re not rescinding that now that I’m back, are you?” She knew the answer because she felt it in her bones. Also… back. She was back. That hadn’t completely sunk in yet. Had it hit Jade yet? 

Regan would have been satisfied standing in the middle of the bathroom, covered in dirt and blood for years so long as she was able to keep holding Jade’s hand. But Jade had more sense (odd; Regan’s brain was just unusually sluggish right now though) and could see what Regan couldn’t: the exhaustion, her wobbling legs, the fact there was blood on her jeans, too. So Regan trusted her… Jade (associate didn’t seem right – perhaps not collaborator either). The jacket and shirt were one thing. The assistance with her pants was another. She didn’t like it, though Jade’s smile nearly smoothed out any offense she took. Nearly. Leanbh, her mind supplied. She didn’t need help with her pants. She was an adult, a doctor! She knew what a body was and was not capable of. This was– as Regan bent down to race Jade’s hands, a vicious, searing bolt jumped down her spine like a current on a wire. Regan spat out a sharp breath and relented (feeling rather stupid for not listening in the first place), placing her hand on Jade’s shoulder instead. She sighed because, despite how foolish she had just been, it was still nice to be touching her even if… well, Jade didn’t seem the most steady, either. Regan caught the grimace. She was hurt. They both knew it. Jade had to know she knew. Where was she hurt? Why was she hurt? When Regan opened that first aid kit, how much would be missing compared to when she had left it here? And for a moment, her fingers gripping hard on Jade’s shoulder for support, she felt the tinge of something dead. If she looked, really looked with her eyes, would there be more? She considered it. But she was also about to fall over right now, if Jade didn’t first.

Regan glanced at Jade – too long for it to be categorized as a glance – and, judging the intensity in Jade’s eyes and obvious need to do something, allowed herself to be helped with the tub, because Jade needed it even if Regan wouldn’t admit she herself did. From inside the shower, she stared at the frosted sliding door that would cut them off from each other again. Then she stared past it, at Jade. Her thoughts were forming much more slowly than she was accustomed to, and she stood for a moment before reluctantly dragging her eyes off Jade and looked toward the drain. “I’ll do a bath. The bath has more… it’s more… uh, water. It’s better. Better for cadavers, too. Yes.” And easier to keep the door open. Did she make any sense at all? Whatever. Except, then she remembered that a bath would be ill-advised right now, medically speaking, and it’d be agony on her back. She didn’t want to soften anything that was just starting to close up. Back to the shower plan. Her eyes went up to the handle. “I was wrong. The shower is– also water. Very water. Cleaner. I’m not a cadaver. I’m going to shower.” Right. She got the water running with a squeak of the pipes. Her old adversary, the door, was an obstacle between them once again, though. Regan just left it open. It wasn’t like steam was going to escape; Regan’s showers were lukewarm at best, anyway (they felt hot enough to her).

“Can you, um…” Before Jade did anything else, Regan needed her to assure her she wouldn’t look, because that door was not going to budge an inch so long as Regan was in the tub. “I have to take these bandages off. Do not promise me anything, but…” Ever again, she almost added. “Don’t look. Even if there’s some noise.” Which maybe the running water would help conceal (though Jade had pretty exceptional hearing, didn’t she? And Regan’s voice could really carry). At Jade’s offer to just talk, Regan’s eyes nearly leaked (that was all just shower water though… every last drop. Obviously. Except she hadn’t even gone under the water yet.) Jade talking… yes, please, her heart beat. Her response was immediate and eager, more lively than she’d felt in days. “Tell me about your children. The cats, the ones from your program, either, all. Tell me about anything. Hum. Sing. Read the instructions insert that came with the first aid kit.” Her pulse hadn’t calmed from the offer yet. “Can you just talk to me? I miss your voice. Irish accents don’t compete, in case you wondered.” Actually, it might be nice to never hear one again– she’d ignore that her own subtle accent was a little more lilty right now. Regan hesitated, because this was not something she could have ever admitted overseas, but… Jade would like hearing it, wouldn’t she? “I thought about it every day, your voice. And you. The whole Jade. Your smile, fingers, kidneys…”

As she listed her favorite parts of her… Jade (again), sharing her love for each, Regan had the privacy she needed so tried to be quick about it, peeling off bandages and discarding them on the other side of the shower into a pile on the floor. Her stomach was healing nicely, the yellow plasma-filled cut finally scabbing. Her palms were in need of no further care. Her bicep, too, was in decent shape, especially given how recent that injury had been. The difference between iron and gold, she supposed. Her back was another story. Siobhan had been the one to bandage her up, and Siobhan was terrible at following instructions, only more useful than the band-aid dispenser, and full of far more insults. Somehow Regan felt seven wads of square gauze (how were there seven? There were four wings) stuffed under criss-crossing bandages that were tight and loose in places that made no sense. She wadded up each piece of gauze and tossed it angrily on the floor, a couple of them flying across the bathroom. Her body’s attempts to heal stuck to a couple of the squares and released fresh blood when she separated them. Still better than they were yesterday.

So far, so good. “...lips, even when they’re purple. And the way your hair curls on your temples when wet, and…”

Regan stepped under the showerhead, eyes closed, knowing that in just a moment, there would be pain, and not the controlled kind she had grown used to. She stopped listing Jade parts. The water burned as it hit her back. It felt like it was seeping under her skin, trickling deep into her wounds and pounding against her nerves. She hissed, and it shot a crack through the mirror Jade had brought in here at some point. Right. That was something she needed to concern herself with again. Some banshee she– even a child could have–

Around her feet, dark water swirled – a mixture of grime that coated her skin and blood seeping from beneath the clots that had formed. The smell of her own rank sweat made her stop breathing through her nose. Between the altercation with her grandmother (and seeing– and–) the jail, the trial, the airport, and sleeping outside, she had built up quite a collection of dirt, and possibly an accompanying ecosystem that would have rivaled Emilio’s old couch. It was all washing away, but Regan felt about the same.

She scrubbed and then scrubbed some more, finally noticing several bottles of unfamiliar product. If she were to open them, would they smell like Jade? She’d be more tempted if she didn’t have the actual Jade waiting for her. And a bed. Even if it was in a cabin she itched to get away from. It took a few rounds of lathering to actually get her hair clean, shampoo and soap seeping where it shouldn’t and causing a burn all over again, and she decided that was enough, even if it probably never would be. “That’s better.” Regan announced as she shut the water off. She wasn’t actually sure, but it sounded a little reassuring to herself, didn’t it? Nothing really felt better. But maybe she could get Jade to agree and be less shaken up. (As much as Regan loved hearing her voice, even if it was shaky, like Jade was trying to compress it, and it overflowed.)

She wasn’t going to call Jade over to help her get out of the tub. She had more pride than that (leanbh). And Jade would see– well, Regan didn’t care about her arm, but her stomach was hard to look at, knowing that it had been her own doing. And her back, she wasn’t sure how she could explain. Or perhaps it was one of those things that wouldn’t need explaining now, but she was having a difficult time approximating Jade’s reaction. So Regan cautiously held the edge of the shower and stepped out, her back complaining with sharp throbs, but it was still better than how she’d gotten through the plane ride with such wounds (poorly and with enough ibuprofen to make her stomach bleed). “Stay there and do not look,” Regan reminded Jade gently, not so much an order, knowing she’d consider otherwise hearing her feet hit the floor.

The first aid kit – two of them actually, one that she didn’t recognize (formal introductions would have to come later)– had been set out for her by the sink. Both were missing some supplies. She took care of her stomach without Jade seeing, because that was the easiest, and she had access to both of her hands to bandage it. Her back ached with the effort. Most people did not realize how impossible it is to not move your back when using your arms in any way. Her latissimus dorsi responded to each effort she made to pull the bandage taut, or to reach; her trapezius when she pulled back; Regan’s rhomboids felt as though they bled internally when her arms moved at all, and even her deltoids extended to her scapulae, flexing on the edge of a razor. Her arm came next, though. Trickier, and it brought more stabbing reminders to her upper back, but she could do it. That one had already formed a fine scab. 

Now she reached the problem she had been anticipating, she didn’t know what to do about it now any more than she had when she tried to close Jade out of here. Her back was nearly impossible to bandage by herself, and the sliced venation in her wings were incredibly sensitive, sending every sensation across her shoulders and spine. It would heal. And at some point, if she was lucky (luck, what a concept – better or worse than Fate?), the veins would branch back out and new membranes would form between them. She didn’t… how could she let Jade see them before they had a chance to grow back? How could she let Jade see them like this first? Regan appraised herself quickly in the cracked mirror, seeing a tired ghost, but one that had adequate enough bandaging on her stomach and arm. Regan frowned, spying new lines on her face that she would have normally celebrated. She didn’t need to decide at this very second. She could… she could always have Jade turn around again. 

So carefully, Regan wrapped a towel around her body, wincing at the way it brushed against such rawness as it looped around her back. But Jade could look now, (more importantly, Regan could look back) and that always made things better. She reminded herself of that. Jade’s eyes always healed, like some new antibiotic with no bacterial resistance (and her eyes were Regan’s music, too, with all their changes in tempo). So… “You can look now.” Regan swallowed. Her skin did at least feel much cleaner. “I still haven’t… my back isn’t bandaged. I wasn’t sure. I…” And just as expected, Jade’s eyes told her she was there, unconditionally. A soft orchestra came to a swell (maybe dirt got in her ears, too; did she need an antibiotic?). “Okay,” Regan gulped. They were on the same page. In the same place and on the same page. She was not going to turn Jade away. She never would again.

Clinging on to the towel wrapped around her, she gathered gauze and bandages from the kit, and looked at Jade, checking in with her. Now it was her turn to give Jade a kiss, and one simply wasn’t enough. She didn’t know how sore her lip was (whoever did that, she’d– not now), so she aimed for the most tender cheek instead, lingering, sighing against Jade’s skin. “I love you,” she said again, because once wasn’t enough for that, either. This wasn’t how Regan imagined this going. Not shortly before she had left, anyway, when the fear of a poor reaction had been overridden by Jade’s endless, freely-given love. It would have been okay then. Now it would not be. And not because Jade would be fearful or disgusted, but because the rage Regan had seen in her eyes would boil across her entire body, angling her toward whatever the closest proxy was. And Regan didn’t trust Jade to not act on it in some way, to take it out on a spawn that resembled Siobhan, or something (though Regan would have liked to take a photo of such a spawn and pointed out the resemblance to that hag).

“I am going to show you. This isn’t how I…” Wanted? She found herself dancing around that word again. “...saw this happening. But I am tired. And it hurts. And I can’t reach. And you ameliorate it all so well. A subject for future research… I’ll be the next Alexander Fleming.” Which made no sense to anyone else. Regan backed away, but not far. How naked she felt. It was probably all those layers of dirt that slipped through the drain. “Tomorrow. If you have… I’ll answer anything then.” Slowly, Regan rotated around, the breath she took growing huge in her lungs, stretching out the tissue, bursting through her ribs. Before she could form second thoughts, she let the towel drop to her waist, giving Jade a view of her back, and what Siobhan had (and had not) done to it. “Okay.”

Her breathing picked up, tears welling in her eyes (tears, they were tears, fine). In some way, she was relieved to not be looking at Jade’s face right now, into her eyes that were incapable of hiding anything. Regan heard nothing but breathing behind her (also some of Regan’s favorite music). Should she say something? How fast were Jade’s thoughts turning, and were they turning so quickly she’d get nauseous enough to run to the toilet? That thought left just enough of a gap for uncertainty to slither into it. Still no words. She spoke, slowly and tentatively, because the silence was killing her. “Are you… is it okay? Jade?” When had her voice grown so wet? “I only need help taping the gauze. Forget the bandage. I can do that part.” Another pause. Was she afraid? Something thick grew in Regan’s throat; that was exactly what she had feared most about this, months ago. “I’m not going to move them. I’m a better patient than most I saw during my residency. Not my decedents, though. They don’t move at all.” Not that there was much to move; she just kept what was there flat against her back, easy to lay gauze and bandage over. Also, that was a lie, and she now felt it in her stomach. She was a dreadful patient, doctors always were. “I won’t scream, either.” She had already done plenty of that.

———

It’s not as bad as it looks. Jade latched onto those words like a lifeline, keeping them on heavy rotation in her head. She replayed them, as she lifted Regan’s shirt. And again, when anger went up her throat and down her lungs like lava, burning everything in its path, squeezing every drop of Regan’s premium oxygen out of her, making her chin quiver with the one emotion she hated feeling. It’s not as bad as it looks, she thought, when Regan read her reaction, when her lips pressed against a bruised cheek, when the ‘I love you’ filled a room that had been nothing but her trembling breath for minutes now. (There was love, so how bad could anything be?). It’s not as bad as it looks looped again, calming her enough to inject some humor in her humming, in a way that said, of course, my bones still belong to you (what doesn’t?). She kept reminding herself that it would not be as bad as it looked, her obsessive thought only interrupted by Regan’s use of the phrase ‘very water’, which had Jade’s heart waterlogged with feelings in a similar fashion. Oh. If that didn’t ease the pain coiling in her chest. Regan’s charm still managed to keep her anchored, even when Jade felt everything was gonna get flipped one-eighty. 

It’s not as bad as it looks, kept thundering in her head when she heard the spray of water, and when she sensed Regan moving, dressings discarded with a heavy thud, wet against the tub. Even as chunks of gauze ended up on the floor by her boots, filthy like nothing in recent memory. Yup. It would not be as bad as it looked, Jade hoped, gaze cast obediently elsewhere, her back to the shower and the sink. It won’t be as bad as it looked, she convinced herself, manufacturing hope, and went on to listen to Regan list all of the things she had missed about her. She was so focused on keeping the reassurance in the forefront, that she was too late to make a quip on the fact that Regan listed her fingers second. She was definitely off her game. She wasn’t sure she’d even entered the game, unable to find any joy in the compliments and the praise, too busy reading between the lines. Regan was distracting her, pandering in a way that would’ve worked any other time, if it weren’t for the fact that she was downplaying her injuries, which meant it had to be bad. (Math). Maybe as bad as it looked. Regan also knew Jade well enough to figure out she’d do something stupid once she saw her wounds. She was buying herself some time. Regan knew her. But Jade knew her back. 

And then the sudsy sounds of soap and shampoo felt like some kind of ASMR. The horror kind, cause Regan kept trying to muffle the pain. And Jade squeezed her knee until it hurt, stubborn enough to honor the promise she’d made (even if it wasn't a real one) (she would not look… she would not). The mirror (her mirror) broke, but it was the hiss straining past Regan’s lips that stung Jade like that banshee’s knife being plunged into her abdomen. Like Monty pulling the trigger, like Mack saving one last punch for her. Like Ariadne making her a failure again. Her chest heaved, head bowed cause… Regan’s wishes. Jade trusted her to concede when she’d reached her limit. Nope, she didn’t. She knew Regan would push till the end. Correction, she trusted her to know Jade would wanna help if things got too difficult. She’d ask, cause Jade needed it. But she wasn’t asking yet, so…

So Jade had to speak up, do what she could from her position, help disguise Regan’s pain better, for her. She spoke up, more tears than breath in her voice. “My…um, my sims are doing great, you know, I’m thinking of…of getting a second puppy for Tango to have a friend!” Could she talk about that without mentioning the Grim Reaper? Would that be a sore subject for Regan? Actually, yup, only one banshee allowed in this cabin. Only one banshee allowed in her life, ever again. Changing subjects. “But, um…forget about The Sims. Oh! Things are heating up at Sly Slice, there’s like… an online petition demanding garlic bread and…” Could she talk about Sly Slice without mentioning Van, that was her sore subject. “Never mind, that’s… that’s boring, they’ll never allow garlic bread, Rocky’s dumb, everybody knows. Lemme tell you something more fun,” but what had been fun lately? Nothing. Even bringing up Mel and Lu would get sad, cause she couldn’t be with them as much anymore, and then she’d think about Elias, whose apartment she’d been staying at and…  

She resorted to playing a game of I see, with the items they had in the bathroom. (The game lasted about 5 seconds, so she improvised… mentioning the walls, the floors, the wood, the air, herself and Regan, (who she didn’t technically see anyway)). Then she hummed (Funky Town, again. Start to finish) about ten times before she heard the water shut off. 

All Jade wanted was to turn around (cause, could Regan even get out of the tub by herself?), but like the mind reader she was, Regan was quick to remind her to stay put. So she would, despite her apprehensions. It’s not as bad as it looks, twisted again inside her mind, the reminder probably going on a roller coaster ride around the folds in her pretty brain. Regan had this, she was the doctor. The problem was, Jade wasn’t great at dealing with the silence. So hearing nothing but the sound of Regan going through the first aid kit, picking up gauze and bandages, backed by her small expressions of pain was pushing her to insanity. She couldn’t even hum anymore cause, a) distracting, b) there was nothing funky anymore. (Not even Regan). A silence lapsed and Jade wondered if she’d missed the instruction to turn around, but nope. She was pretty sure her body would’ve reacted instantly. 

At last, Regan gave the okay and Jade shot up, her legs were wobbly as she moved toward Regan, by the sink. She couldn’t wait any longer to wrap her arms around… oh. There was more. Regan was gonna show Jade her back, yup. Alright. Cause she needed help with the bandages, of course. That was fine in a, Regan said it wasn’t as bad as it looked sorta way. She meant all of it, right? (Why would she lie? She couldn’t lie) And Jade? She'd seen ugly things (just about any of Amber’s boyfriends). She’d dealt with gorey things, which was a given considering her line of work. She'd seen her siblings beat up and bloody and covered in all different sorts of undead sludge. She'd watched her father come home, more blood than human, arm dangling, only attached to his body cause all Bloodworths were stubborn like that. (Which was in a way, the trigger for the chain of events that led her to this town, to this bathroom, to this Regan) (She could never say Baba did nothing for her again).  

All of this to say, Jade had this, whatever this was. She was equipped and she was prepared and… Whatever weapon had gone into Regan’s back, she had probably seen equal damage before. It’s not as bad as it looks. Right? And wait a second, Regan saying she’d answer questions about it later did not bode well, but before Jade could ask for clarification on that, the towel dropped to Regan’s waist, in a move that would’ve been tantalizing any other time. But Jade couldn’t feel a thing. Or maybe she felt all of the things at once, cause the little colorful blobs inside her mind went into override. 

Regan was right, it wasn’t as bad as it looked. It was horrifyingly worse.

It was one of those things that felt surreal. The cameras were probably all angled toward her, the lighting had never been better, the audience held their breaths, itching for her reaction, hungry for her horror or her rage or… What was she looking at, exactly? There was… a membrane (?) of sorts, protruding from… where her shoulder blade should— and…blood, duh, and…but…

Regan said she had no third leg. 

Jade had trailed kisses down Regan’s back, her fingers had dug into her shoulder blades (especially to elicit that stuttered breath she loved so much in response), and she’d remember… Regan was her favorite thing to look at. It did not compute. What was she looking at? She had to reach far within the archives for one snippet of a conversation with Cass. Magic necklace. Which… could’ve helped conceal… They should’ve been wings, shouldn’t they? (She was no insect expert but, what else could it be?) Did Regan keep these from her?

Did Regan have… Why didn’t she say something?

But something much worse barreled down as she dislodged what was supposed to be a useful memory. Like a bad Jenga move. It crashed against her conscience, destabilizing the small amount of composure keeping her upright (which was actually, just confusion).

Jade remembered Parker, in the forest, with his sleeping darts and his utility belt, and how willfully she had come along for the removal of a fae’s wings. Some fae. (She couldn’t even recall her name). Cause what she remembered of that day, was how proud she was of becoming his assistant, following his orders without questioning a thing. She remembered how flippant she’d been about the whole thing. Using her allure to bring the fae into Parker’s trap, while treating it like a sidequest, cause of course she would.  And she never looked back on that day, never reflected on what the experience must’ve been once the entomid woke up. She moved on with her life, unchanged. Cause like, she didn’t even do a thing! Jade hadn’t held the knife or the darts then. (Was it any less violent? Wasn’t her charm, her words, her lies not as dangerous of a weapon if she wanted them to? 

Regan had wings. Had. (How…) And someone took them from her. Mutilated her. And as she stared down at the bloody mess on Regan’s back, her heart aching for the woman she loved, Jade understood this was pain she’d helped to inflict on others before. Not too long ago. It could’ve been Regan the target of her mindless shenanigans. It could’ve been her on the end of Parker’s scalpel, while Jade watched like it was the best spectacle in the world. 

She didn’t vomit, cause her body couldn’t move. Not even her involuntary muscles wanted to work with her. 

“I can’t… I can’t…” breathe she wanted to say. But Regan might think she meant she couldn’t help. She could, she had to, if only at this point to clear her conscience. (Stop it. Get it together. For Regan. Inhale…1,2,3,4. Hold…1,2,3,4. Exhale…1,2,3,4. Hold. Repeat). She sensed Regan shifting, probably worried about the time she was taking, worried about Jade of all things, but Jade’s hand was soft (how? under the circumstances, she didn’t know) against her waist, asking for time. She couldn’t spiral now, when Regan needed her. But the weight of every choice she’d chucked away as a quirk or used as the punchline of a joke was starting to press down on her like… you guessed it, those compression machines all over TikTok. 

She used to say that a lot… I can’t. After I don’t wanna was banned from her vocabulary (not by choice, mind you). There used to be a time for I can’t, for breathing issues, for belly aches. A time for mistakes, and hesitation and for her steady hand to shake. But she was past that, and it was so inconvenient that all seemed to rush back to her since arriving in this town. I can’t didn’t matter. It didn’t matter then, it didn’t matter now. She kept on going. She could, so she would anyway. It wasn’t the time to unpack previous transgressions. “I got it,” she grumbled low, reaching for the gauze, not trusting the natural register where her voice sat. Okay. Done with the trip down memory lane. She was good at speedrunning through her emotions. Locking the bad ones in, exchanging them for more positive ones. Just one second and she was back in the game. She could. She would. Regan needed her.

She picked up the gauze one by one, except… she had to pause immediately. Her lips tasted salty, and Jade could not cry while doing this. Her vision had to be sharp to get the dressing in the right places, guide her fingers without grazing the wounds. She waited until she stopped sniffling, and then continued with the task at hand. She had some experience with it, after all. (Not as much with wings) (Regan had wings, by the way). “I love you,” she cried, pressing the last bit of tape against gauze and skin. It sounded like an apology. (It was) (And she actually hated herself for how soon she had to use it like that. It had to be a new record). She brushed the wet strands of hair sticking to Regan’s back and placed a kiss on the base of her neck, stepping away. She didn’t deserve to be close to Regan. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.” That went for the gauze. And for Ireland too. For making everything more difficult over there, for gifting her the ring, for falling in love with her, but especially for hurting others the way Regan had been hurt. Could she ever tell her? And geez, not even about the wings, but about Monty? And Mack, and Ariadne? 

Maybe actually, Jade did need to get away from Regan for a second. Not Regan, specifically, but shame and guilt and…it was all wrapped up messily, unlike the way she’d just finished patching Regan’s wings up. (Regan had wings. She had.) “I’ll… I’ll be in the bedroom, actually. Feels… the steam, you know. It’s… hard to breathe in here. But, call me, and don’t close the door. I’ll… I can help with the bandages too, if you need.”

———

I can’t. 

Regan’s heart plummeted into the lake back in Ireland. Jade couldn’t do it, couldn’t look at it. Was it because Regan hadn’t told her? Was it because of the blood, or the shape they were in (the shape of ‘mostly gone’)? Or was it because of what they had been? None of those seemed right. She had to have seen worse, and weirder, and… maybe the first thought that had come to Regan’s mind, but… but what did she mean, I can’t? Couldn’t she? Regan thought she could. She had thought she could before she’d left for Ireland. She had been so sure, nearly positive, that Jade could, and it was almost impressive how easily those two small words, I can’t, were capable of slicing into her like… well…

I can’t.

Jade hadn’t expected to see Regan again to begin with – and then the injuries, and now the – that was all, she was overwhelmed. And her being overwhelmed came out as I can’t. Had she asked too much of Jade? If not the gauze then the wings themselves? She had, right? The shock of– of everything. But… but Regan loved Jade down to her go hálainn kidneys, she stanned them in a fanbase (which, to be fair, Regan expected Jade would have kidneys). Couldn’t she, couldn’t Jade also– Regan swallowed down that tibia as best she could, but some (at least an epiphysis) came up as a choke. No, that wasn’t it. That would not be it. No. She knew it wasn’t. (Right?)

Which meant… was Jade unwell? Regan took a half-step forward, away, but Jade’s hand brushed against her waist, then stuck there. Regan stopped drifting. It meant something, even if she wasn’t sure what. She would stay, wait until that became appar– oh, that was probably what it meant. Stay. Or Jade had been about to collapse and needed to hold onto something. That wasn’t it, right? She didn’t think she could do a session of simultaneous holding right now. Regan almost turned to check on her but Jade said she had this. She didn’t sound like herself. But she reached for the gauze. This all seemed like it had been… Regan shouldn’t have asked. What she’d give to shimmy that towel back up to her shoulders no matter how red it became. She’d give a whole bone. Two.

She tried not to read too far into Jade’s voice – the panic, the way disgust seemed as though it was being held back by only a thin dam. Jade’s actions didn’t align with that. Regan felt gauze dabbing gently against her skin by dutiful hands, only making contact with the margins when necessary (and Regan did not scream; she was a good patient in that regard). Except Jade was cr… having an allergy attack. One of her signature ones. Regan was afraid to say anything. She’d been quiet this whole time, first because of confusion, then because she couldn’t distract Jade, and now because… she was afraid of asking and getting an answer. So Regan continued being quiet, and hardly noticed anything until she heard the words I love you followed by a light, warm dap on her neck, a kiss. I love you was not I can’t. So what was the I can’t? And there was disgust, still. Perhaps confirmation bias was in play to an extent but she heard something. And if not directed at Regan, then… herself? Regan had deferred any questions and it seemed right to allow Jade the same courtesy, especially when a single question mark between them might unspool more than either of what they could handle right now. 

She took a deep breath, expecting a bandage to be wrapped around her, but it didn’t come. Instead there was an apology. Had Jade seen the cracks, the doubt? Or was it about the injury? Or– right, more questions she wasn’t getting an answer to. (Her thoughts turned to Siobhan and she flipped them over just as fast.) It didn’t really matter. Regan hated the kind of wet coming from Jade’s voice right now. 

Jade verbally interrupted Regan’s ability to turn around before she could rally her body to move. Jade’s sharp breaths had carried a tiny voice on them, one she’d never heard from Jade’s mouth before. How often was it that Jade seemed to be having trouble finding words? She had so many words. She was one of the most talkative people Regan knew (excusing that the majority of people Regan knew were cadavers). There was something about talking to Jade while not facing her that felt like concrete skidding across her wounds. But… maybe it was a good thing. 

Wait, the bedroom? Why did she say that like she was leaving? Where was she going? The bedroom, but without Regan? Did she mean they’d both go, you and me? Or… no, because she was saying…

Regan’s jaw felt as defective as the rest of her body. The bedroom. Away. Jade needed to get away from her. Her heart did an anatomically impossible scrunch inside of her. “Okay.” The first word Regan had said in at least ten minutes, and it cracked her voice like that mirror. She heard Jade shuffle out behind her, footsteps slow and effortful. She couldn’t peel herself away from where she was rooted. It was like pins had been jabbed through her wings instead of them getting lopped off.

Because what had Jade meant by the bedroom? And that she would be in there? And that Regan could call for her? 

Had Jade meant she would be in the bedroom, and Regan should stay out? Or had she meant she’d be in the bedroom and Regan should come in? No, because then she wouldn’t have said to call. Because you don’t call for someone right next to you. Also, Regan was not a child. She wasn’t going to call for Jade. Her throat felt like it was narrowing as she wondered about disgust again. Was that why Jade needed to get away? It didn’t– it seemed like something else was going on, but either Regan was too tired for the obvious to be obvious, or it wasn’t obvious at all. She could only think about the sound of Jade’s breath getting caught in her throat, the way she seemed to stop breathing at all behind Regan’s back. 

Her jaw worked again but it trembled. A new mandible would have been ten times more useful than that pubic defender had been. Regan stared down at the balled up gauze, the soaked bandages, the pile of dirty clothes. She sniffed the air. They smelled. Normally she’d be appalled at the thought of leaving them there, but her back already complained at the prospect of bending over to clean. And she was so tired. That was why her eyes were wet. She didn’t know what to do and there was no giant wheel to dictate. There was no doctrine in her head guiding her. 

Either way, Jade would have at least a few minutes. Regan had half a tube of toothpaste her teeth and breath were demanding. Even more demanding was the bottle of ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet, one of its only inhabitants. Regan swallowed down more little red pills than she ever would have recommended a live patient take, and got to work on the bandages. Her concession that she could do it on her own had been made in a moment of doubt that… well, had been needed after all, hadn’t it? She did still manage to do a far better job than Siobhan, though her back tightened against her nerves every time she reached for and looped the bandage around. Jade also did better than Siobhan with the gauze. Jade, who was in the bedroom. And Regan could call for her. But Regan wasn’t going to do that.

Regan nearly called out to ask for clothes but then it hit her that it would be calling out to Jade (who was in the bedroom, not here), and she couldn’t do that, either. What if Jade needed more time? What if she needed a lot more time? Was Regan supposed to stay here? She looked at the door again, but all she could see through the crack were the living room and kitchen, where all the weapons were. It looked the same as it had five minutes ago, because no one had gone through it since Jade went into the bedroom. Without Regan. Frustration and uncertainty ate through her, gnawing at her back. Anger was not something she was capable of right now. And even if she were, it wouldn’t be at Jade. But she wanted a bed. And sleep. Sleeping the last few nights in a jail cell and then on a plane had pushed her to some edge. 

Every once in a while, she turned toward the door to check if was still open, for all the good it did. She couldn’t see or hear Jade. When she moved her head too quickly she saw a trail of squirming worms on the floor or a crowd of banshees staring at her. The room would telescope, and fear grabbed for her with Cliodhna’s long fingers. 

“I can’t…” Had she said that? Or had Jade been put on replay in her head? So many things seemed to be.

She wasn’t some child. She was not going to call for Jade. Jade, of bedroom infamy. Except, actually, I can’t. 

Regan called for Jade.

They had a lot to talk about.

[toomuchracket]

ross and reader on separate dates but both end up getting stood up and then end up spending their “dates” together and the rest is history🥹🥹🥹

WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND IS STANDING UP ROSS MACDONALD PLEEEEEASE but yes this is cute. you're meant to be meeting a guy you vaguely know and think is decent but aren't really fussed about, and you sit at this bar for ages waiting for him to show up, but he never does. ross has been sitting next to you in the exact same situation, which you find out after your 39393rd time of making eye contact and smiling shyly - he's like "don't tell me you've been stood up too", and your eyes go really wide because TOO???? this is the most gorgeous man you've maybe ever seen. and he's being stood up? anyway, you recover and say "yeah, unfortunately. i mean it's not like i was totally into him, but i've wasted a great outfit lol". and ross laughs (you swoon) and then he smiles at you again and says "well, it doesn't have to be wasted - we could have a drink, if you'd like? i'm ross". and you're like holy shit i am so glad i was stood up and introduce yourself like "that sounds lovely, thank you", and that's the start of it; you talk and you drink and you laugh more than you have in a while, and you can just feel yourself falling for him more with every passing second. you sit there for hours, but it feels like minutes, swapping numbers and sharing a cig at the taxi rank when the bar finally closes. ross kisses your cheek as he helps you into the cab with an "i'm so glad we both got stood up lol", and when you text him to tell him you're home he replies "good. i know this might be forward, but do you want to go for dinner tomorrow?" - and that's how he and you begin <3

[raytorosaurus]

Hello I hope you enjoy some ray questions :) what is your favorite ray solo, the most beautiful to you, and the one that in your opinion is his most technically and musically impressive. love and light and ray toro to u

oh my godddd i DO enjoy ray questions thank you thank you <33333

okay so honestly this tour has blown everything out of the water so if we're including the recent live stuff then. kids from yesterday is his most beautiful AND technically impressive. the thing about fast shreddy solos is that sure they're very difficult to play but they're also forgiving. skip a note? under/overdo a bend? hit a couple of wrong frets? no big deal, it'll barely be noticeable as long as you're able to recover quick. slow solos that focus more on emotion and musicality are often so much more difficult because every single note matters and the mood depends on you not only hitting every one but hitting it well, bending in tune, sustaining it, really putting feeling into it etc. like for example the summertime solo is super simple and easy to play, but ray pours his heart into it every night so it sounds beautiful, and if he hits just one note wrong it's obvious as hell lol. anyway ray's a master at both of those types of soloing (which is insane, and as much as everyone knows he's an incredible player i feel like his emotionality as a musician doesn't get enough recognition compared to his technical prowess and ability to shred). and kids from yesterday this tour like. combines both of those things at once. it's jawdropping every single night - and the fact that it's, like, semi-improvised some nights too. genuinely astounding like all else aside mcr getting back together is the greatest gift in the world just because we get to witness that. it's like the perfect showcase of how ray's grown as a musician over the hiatus because even though remember the laughter is relatively light on guitar, you can really hear how those solos and exploring that style influenced this new kids one...but it's still so my chemical romance, because ray's never played to show off or posture, he knows exactly what every single song needs to be as emotionally resonant as possible.

anyway. lol spiel on kids from yesterday over (genuinely the way it ROCKETED up my ranking of mcr songs from close to the bottom to close to the top after this tour....lol). if we're talking studio versions only......

favourite solo: this is genuinely such a fucking hard question so i'm going to have to go with my gut response. which is venom. it's probably not my favourite solo anymore, but it was originally - it was one of the things that really hooked me on mcr in the first place, and when my show got cancelled in 2020 i couldn't listen to it for like two solid months bc it was the one i most vividly daydreamed about seeing live LOL so i have a huge soft spot for it. and it's catchy. it's clean. it's classic. it's just fucking FUN like it catches my attention and gets a smile out of me every time lol. close runners-up are vampire money, flw, and the live version of destroya.

most beautiful: augh. fuck. fuck. easy answer is summertime and as much as i agree i think i have to say scarecrow....again, it's nothing overstated. the way it like. weaves around and reinforces the vocals on "love won't stop this bomb" too like...it has brought many a tear to my eye. jesus. side note frank's parts in both of these songs are fucking heart-wrenchingly gorgeous too. for an album that sounds less like a ~guitar album~ than all of mcr's others, danger days has some of the best guitar work of their whole discography man...

most technically/musically impressive: genuinely this one is impossible to answer...like i could make an argument for sooo many of them in different ways...but i think i'm going to have to say. i don't love you. she is criminally underrated and so deceptively simple-sounding but so technically complex AND so fucking emotive. like okay another thing ray should probably get more credit for is not only that he's able to play all these solos flawlessly and beautifully but that he's able to write them - it's truly like he speaks another language, every solo he's ever written is so perfect for the song right key, right chord progression, right scale, right energy. and he's comfortable playing in so many different styles too....his blues-ed up teenagers live playing my fucking BELOVED, his practically baroque metally to the end solo, classic rock or polka or fucking borderline-edm...we are so lucky to have him oh my god.

also if we're counting non-mcr solos. take the world and remember the laughter...oouguhghghhhughhhh SHIT. they tick ALL of these boxes (and you can see what i mean about the new kids from yesterday part growing out of them).

oh my god i'm SO sorry you asked a straightforward question and i rambled for like several hundred words adjkaljgdlksajgd. what's ur favourite <333