#but adding this here would have ruined the flow and message of the post so I put it in foot note

[system-of-a-feather]

Dear Problematic Siblings; An Open Letter to Older Siblings Survivors from a Youngest Sibling Survivor

(TW: Some levels of emotional abuse, neglect and psychological abuse mentioned. Not sure what level of detail to warn since its that whole Trauma Thing where you don't know what is and isn't 'that bad' so just be careful if any of those are particularly touchy topics)

Don't think too formal of this writing despite the formal sounding title, this is a bit of an open free form letter I wanted to put out to those who have siblings you aren't in contact with or don't have a relationship with following an abusive childhood environment may that be due to having to cut contact for safety or bad blood from how you hurt each other growing up.

I am / We are the youngest of two sisters - one older by 6~ years, the other older by 4~ years and our household was unsafe since before I was born. In theory, my oldest sister might have seen the abuse arise, maybe my middle sister had a bit of time before plunged into hell, but I was born condemned. First and foremost, its important to acknowledge how even these few years have likely developed how we perceive our lives and our situation greatly; far more than either of us can probably have the conscious awareness of as - regardless of how old we were when we first faced it, we were still learning and forgetting a lot of things that would innately frame the way we see the others and the world.

To the sister that made my life miserable, to the one that actively attacks and bullied me, actively tried to silence me and turn my parents against me, actively made the already bad neglect worse and actively took away all of the very few to no resources I had; to the sister that told me I couldn't complain because I was "too young" to remember the worst of the trauma; to the sister that I threw out of my life for four years and refused to so much as be in the same room as or see for two years, to the sister I gave up on after she disappointed me by repeating the same harmful behaviors over and over again over the six to eight years I had made an attempt to come to an understanding and make things work with; to the sister who - after time apart and given independent healing - came to the realization that our lives and childhood sucked, that we both were put through, that over time realized that the there was a lot more to life than the petty stressors we had built a habit of fighting over; to the sister that still from time to time, when prompted with specific triggers, will still revert back to those survival mechanisms and begin behaving in ways that are similar to how she did when we were younger; to that sister, I understand and I forgive you.

It took a while to get around here - a lot of work of healing and a lot of time apart to work through, process, recover and grow from the damage I had sustained in childhood both at your hands and not, but I understand. We were both children and we were both trying to survive. Children being forced to survive like we did will almost always look ugly, will almost always make a mess, and thats not your fault nor mine. Neither of us should have been put into that situation, and I understand why we were that way before, I forgive you and I hope you forgive me for whatever slights I likely did while trying to survive myself. I also understand that just acknowledging and being aware of this doesn't stop the trauma and immediately cure the pain and wounds that were inflicted upon us, and while we might relapse into old dynamics, I understand and forgive you already so as long as you do the same back. Healing isn't easy and more than anything, the thing that I value and cherish most is that we both have reflected on our pasts and how they affect our present and have made active genuine effort to handle it. The past is in the past, and the future is what we make of it. I'll be patient with you if you are patient with me.

To my oldest sister; to the sister that saw my pain when I was seven and came to help me; to the sister that took responsibility for making my life good and making sure I succeed; to the sister that saw the danger I was in and became dedicated, obsessed even, with making sure I did better than she did; to the sister that sat me down when I was not even in middle school to plan out all my classes up until graduate school and planned to help me enroll in the military at age 14 to pay for my tuition; to the sister that wanted to see me happy all the time to the point of recognizing a complex dissociative disorder and intentionally triggering one part out regularly to make herself feel better; to the sister that trained me in the brutal world of capitalism and taught me how to live on nothing because she knew, for a certain, that no one would be there for me and made sure I knew that I was entirely on my own; to the sister that gave me freedom and protection from my parents in exchanged for the knowledge that no one would help me should I fail; to the sister that got me a bird when she knew she was going to leave me alone and unprotected; to the sister that taught me to dominate everyone and everything to maintain peace, safety, and control; to the sister who was extensively traumatized and scared who used me as a subject to project her anxieties upon with good yet selfish and inconsiderate intent; to the sister who both saved me from my parents, but also made the effects of the 10x times worse and more dramatic; to the sister who I defended for 21 years of my life and kept from being disowned 6 times when no one else in the family would stand up for her; to the sister who - upon the slightest push back and watered down critique to acknowledge the damage done - threw me to the side as a party not trying in the relationship; to the sister who doubles down and refuses to reflect and grow, I appreciate what you have done for me and understand, but I do not forgive you - nor do I see myself forgiving you in the near future.

The most I can hope for is that you, much like my other sister, when given time apart, will come to realize the damage that you have done. That you will come to realize the true shittiness of our lives and understand that by constantly running, by constantly living in the ways that we originally learned to cope with our lives, by perpetuating the trauma that we were born and raised in, by never looking back to move forward, we will never truly escape and live the life that we deserve but were denied. As much as I wish I could sit here with you and help you through this process, that would cost me my own ability to heal, to move forward, to grow. I understand that you were doing the best for yourself, and I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt that you did what you thought was best for me - growing up how we did was hard and you more than any of us three had to deal with a lot of it on your own and without warning. You were of an older generation - mental health information was not as accessible and far more stigmatized - people were more conservative and less progressive. I completely understand how and why it is that your pain had been redirected onto me; however, I can't see that you see that. You seem unable to see your own fault and folly along with the consequences I was forced to bare. I can not forgive you, if you can not acknowledge your part in this show.

To that sister, all I can say is I hope you heal. I hope you get better and I hope you see that life doesn't have to be a constant game of run away from the past and trauma. I hope that one day you will realize why it is that conflicts follow and case you around. I hope that one day you reflect on the past and realize how your pain had caused others pain and I hope you can still love and accept yourself anyways. I hope then that we can talk again and start anew, but until then, I can not forgive you.

To both my older sisters, I don't know what our childhood was like for you - I lived it, I watched it, I saw it, but I could never truly fullly understand or begin to fathom what it was like on your side of the table, so I won't act like I do any more than I need to understand that I don't need to hate you for the rest of my life. Our childhood was hard, harder than any of us can properly remember by the sheer nature of it. I don't wish to hold bad blood over things happened in the past that will only get further and further in the past until they disappear to irrelevancy. I don't wish any ill upon either of you (excluding the acute moments when you really piss me off and/or we trigger one another****). I truthfully hope we all can heal, move on, and live our lifes regardless of how bad our first two or so decades of our individual lives have been. We are all survivors and thats something to be respected of.

Sincerely,

The Youngest Sibling

[romaritimeharbor]

MORAL INJURY — a non-romance genshin impact series. ♫

       act i, chapter iii        "the crow, the mouse, and the doll."

➤ CHAPTER SYNOPSIS :: the mouse bites and gets bitten.

➤ CONTENT WARNINGS :: trauma and recollections of trauma, references to self-harm (briefly mentioned, and not done intentionally—moreso done in the panic of a stressful moment), crying, reader acts like dottore in scaramouche's eyes, choking, burns, bruises, implied broken bones, dissection, general gore/graphic warning, dehumanization/non-sexual objectification (both the reader and scaramouche), reader is fucking MEAN and feels guilty about it later, blood, prescription pills. generally, tread carefully when reading this chapter.

➤ WORD COUNT :: 4.0k.

➤ AUTHOR'S THOUGHTS :: HELLO MORAL INJURY NATION!!! CHAPTER 3 IS FINALLY HERE and it is horrible and terrible. because i love angst <3 a little note, be sure to click around on the words and symbols that are underlined at the top of this post! the word MORAL INJURY will take you to the series masterlist/navigation post, and the music note will take you to the spotify playlist.

➤ TAGLIST :: @zeldadou, @umgatochamadopercyval, @starryshinyskies, @www-songbird, @pookiebearcave, @lesanyanyas, @francisnyx. contact me through messages/asks/etc non-anonymously to be added.

       After speaking to Collei—poor thing, they absently mused to themselves—they made haste in leaving Haeresys and returning to the main lab. Had they lingered even slightly too long, they were certain they’d run into its ruling segment, and they simply did not have the time to entertain his… antics.

       (‘Antics’ meaning anything from standing next to him and listening to him explain the intricacies of his work with ancient Khaenri’ahn technology and entertaining him with the occasional question to being thrown into an active battle with a Ruin Guard. He insisted that it was to keep their skills with their delusion sharp, but they personally thought he just wanted to see them bleed a little bit. Though they always emerged victoriously, they did not always emerge unscathed. They’re certain their suffering brings him some kind of satisfaction.)

       Thankfully, by the time they returned, the Sixth Harbinger was already waiting impatiently.

       "Good afternoon, Lord Sixth."

       "Hurry up," he scoffed, shooting them a wicked glare. Of course, they reacted naught. Being looked at like some kind of lab rat by Dottore was significantly worse than whatever glare Scaramouche sent their way. "I don't have all day."

       "I understand," they reassured, gently setting down their bag on the very same counter that they cleaned of blood a few hours prior. "If you would, please remove your shirt, and describe the issues you are encountering to me."

       His eyes followed their motions precisely. They wondered if it was some kind of trauma response. Nonetheless, he—shockingly—obliged their request, nimble fingers working to shed his upper layers as they snapped a pair of disposable gloves on.

       "...The issues, sir?" they gently reminded, gloved thumbs gingerly pressing into his ribs to check briefly for any wounds or areas of tenderness they'd need to be mindful of. It wouldn't be unexpected for him, a Harbinger, to be injured, so they figured it would be best to check beforehand. "Would you mind telling me—"

       A vague stinging sensation ran vertically across their lips, and they stopped. 

       "Reflexes." He smirked at the way their hand slowly raised to their now-bloodied lip. The pain didn't hit them for a few seconds, but even once it did, their expression remained boringly the same. The only indication they gave of having felt anything at all was a slight twitch of their lip. "My reflexes have been poor lately."

       A surge of rage flowed through their veins. They did their best to suppress it.

       "Lord Sixth, please take this seriously."

       "Are you implying that I'm not?"

       Agitation bubbled in their throat, but they again did their best to swallow it down and ignore it.

       "I am not..." Their jaw clenched slightly as they let out a shallow breath. They had hoped their irritance would leave with it; unfortunately, their emotions did not dissipate even a little bit. If anything, the Balladeer's smug look just made them feel worse. "I am not implying anything, Lord Sixth, but I'm sure we both have better things to be doing rather than bickering like children over your necessary bodily maintenance. Would you rather Lord Dottore do this? If so, I will gladly take my leave for the day. I will tell you this once only—I am immeasurably kinder than he is."

       "Are you threatening me?"

       "I don't know. Do you want it to be a threat?"

       His hands were wrapped around their throat in an instant. Within just those few brief seconds, they could already feel bruises beginning to bloom and burns beginning to boil their skin from his electro alignment.

       They gathered all the strength they could manage in their legs and kicked him off, forcing all of the air—not that he really needed to breathe—out of his lungs. He remained relatively unfazed, but didn't lurch at them again. Their chest heaved as they shot him a dirty look from beneath their Fatui mask, which had been knocked slightly out of position.

       (It wasn't often that they wore it. Honestly, around any of the Harbingers, they would usually just take it off. Both their name and face were well-known by now. Yet, they had diligently put it on before coming to see the Sixth.

       They could not be certain as to why. It was only inconveniencing their work.

       ...Maybe they were trying to hide, as fruitless as that endeavor was and would always be.)

       A deep, tired sigh left their aching throat. They turned away from him and laid their face against the icy wall, the bite of the cold much welcomed against the heat that had built under their skin from both anger and the recent struggle.

       "Hah, what? Are you going to cry?"

       "Do you want me to be honest, Lord Sixth?"

       The monotone exasperation in their voice surprised him a bit. Nonetheless, an amused look settled on his face.

       "Oh? If you so dare, you may speak freely, then."

       "I wasn't asking for your permission," they scoffed, standing up straight again and removing their mask mandated by the Fatui. They turned back to him, meeting his eyes with such immovable nonchalance, such tiredness that only someone who worked with Dottore for years could possibly display. "I was asking whether you wanted to hear the truth or not. You want to? Fine. First of all, you wouldn't be the first to try and strangle me, so don't fucking do it again. Try something else if you really want to kill me. You think I haven't been nearly choked to death by Lord Beta or Lord Delta? Do you honestly believe that? Secondly, you are acting like a goddamn brat. Either let me do your maintenance, or be Lord Second's science experiment again. Your choice. I have not met a single person who would rather be at Lord Dottore's mercy rather than mine, so choose, and do it fast. I don't have all day either."

       Silence. Then, a response came:

       "...Hah. You've got some guts, talking to a Harbinger like that."

       Static tingled along their flesh and danced in the air, waiting for the right moment to strike, waiting for them to say something wrong, waiting for them to cross that invisible thin line from being firm to committing insubordination.

       ...As if they already hadn't. They couldn't be bothered to care. He was acting like a child. How were they supposed to be patient with him when they'd already been spread so thinly? Either way, it was a lose-lose scenario, because surely the Balladeer would accuse them of pitying him or infantilizing him if they did continue to be patient. Being frank was simply the better option.

       Unbothered, they rolled their eyes. "I have no respect for anyone who makes my job more difficult than it already is. You aren't the only one with a hard job. You think I've got it easy? You wouldn't last a day in this position. Make up your mind, Scaramouche. Now."

       "Tch."

       "You want to be a test subject again? Fine by me. Have a good day, Lord Sixth."

       But of course, that was not the end of the Sixth Harbinger's bite. No. It never was, for as they reached for their bag, his sneer reached their ears and made their fingers twitch with rage.

       "What, like you were?"

       The tattoo on their wrist throbbed with the ache of distant, blotted out memories.

       All the nights they spent crying, wailing, hyperventilating, scratching at that foul tattoo on their wrist until their own blood coated their nails and oozed out of their raw flesh to blend with the scorching tears sliding down their cheeks and landing elsewhere...

       All of that for a useless little brat to comment on the situation like it was nothing?

       No. His Harbinger status be damned—no-one would disrespect them like that and get away with it.

       "Don't you ever"—in a swift movement that even the Sixth Harbinger did not expect nor predict, they whirled around and pressed their foot into his chest further and further until they felt something crack under the pressure—"speak of my experiences in such a foul way ever again. It was one time. You have been here, in this very same position, for five hundred years. I was in that position one time. Do not speak in such a manner ever again. I will break you beyond fucking repair."

       The Balladeer's porcelain skin burned. It was now his turn to be at the receiving end of elemental fury.

       "Fuck you," he rasped. They put their foot flat on the floor again, shooting him a harsh glare.

       "Fuck you too. Get back on the table or I'm leaving. How many times to I have to tell you? What are you, five? Are your listening ears off?"

       "...Fine."

       He begrudgingly stood up, hoisting himself up onto the examination table.

       "By the seven," they cursed under their breath. "Finally... You want painkillers or not?" They somehow still found it in them to offer some kind of pain management, though they already knew he would deny it, claiming he 'didn't need it.' "There is no shame in saying yes, Lord Sixth."

       "Don't you dare presume to patronize me. You really believe I'm so weak and—"

       As expected.

       As always.

       "Whatever. I offered, so don't go around telling people I didn't give you options."

       With that, they adjusted their grip on their sterilized scalpel and made the first of many cuts. If he wouldn't tell them what was really wrong, then they would just have to figure it out themselves—it would take longer, and likely be more painful and uncomfortable, but really...

       He did this to himself.

       The Balladeer was always a fascinating being to work on. If they were any less bitter, they would earnestly admit to being honored to have an opportunity to peer inside of him and poke around at his artificial systems, satiating whatever curiosity they might have had about him and how he functioned and—because of his creation being the work of an Archon—how one of the Seven's minds worked. As much as they may have disliked him, disliked his uncooperative nature, he was fascinating in his own right.

       (It was like they viewed him as less of a person, less of a coworker, and more of a subject to be studied. As more of a thing, a creature. Hm.)

       Scaramouche didn't bleed much. He bled, but never enough to inconvenience them. They were always able to simply pat away any blood with a tissue or a cotton pad when it began interfering with their work. He bled, but not like a human. Never like a human.

       He wasn't one, so...

       A soft whimper, a hitch of breath unnoticeable to the untrained ear drew them out of their thoughts. Their gaze briefly flickered to the Balladeer's face, fingers halting all motion. All the muscles in their abdomen tightened with an overwhelming sense of guilt and frustration.

       A stray tear rolled down his cheek. If he noticed, he didn't acknowledge it. They chose to pay it as little mind as possible, if not for anyone's sake but theirs. His eyes were hazy and vacant, as if he were recalling some other event such as this one—as if, above him, he saw someone else.

       They shook that thought off before it could spiral into something worse.

       Whatever he was recalling was not their fault, and certainly not their business. It had nothing to do with them. It was no concern of theirs. It wasn't their fault. It was absolutely not their fault... right?

       Were they being rougher than usual? Surely not, they thought, but upon shifting their eyes back to what they were actively working on... it became clear that they were.

       He was bleeding more than usual. Their incisions were deeper than usual. Either way, they would have to peel him open eventually to get better access to his systems, but... generally, they were very gentle about it. As gentle as one could be about something so grotesque, anyway. Even so, for some reason they couldn't really place, he was bleeding more than usual. Their incisions were deeper than usual.

       Oh.

       As much as they wanted to apologize, the words only stuck to the sides of their dry throat. Their hands trembled a little at the realization of what they had done to him, of how cruel they had been to him the entire time. How could their cruelty outmatch a Harbinger's? How could their cruelty outmatch the Sixth's, of all people's?

       Of course, in a job such as theirs, dissociation was a hell of a skill.

       There was nothing they could do except grit their teeth, continue, and—ideally—wrap it up as soon as possible. 

             — flower of the universe !! 🌸

       "Are you done yet?"

       He sounded so vacant, voice lacking any of the bite, enmity, or sarcasm it should have held towards them. He should've sounded different, not... like this.

       He sounded so broken.

       ...Did they really hurt him that bad? They'd hardly done anything different at all. It was always the same, they swore it was. It was the same as any other maintenance day in the lab.

       Deep down, they knew that wasn't true, that they were only lying to make themselves feel better, but there was nothing to be done about it now. They wordlessly cut the last stitch, patting away the little bit of blood that remained.

       "...I am, sir. If you don't heal properly, please come see me or Lord Dottore."

       He didn't reply.

       They reached up wordlessly, shutting the overhead surgical lighting off, hoping that the motion might snap him out of whatever daze he was trapped in. He hardly flinched.

       Wordlessly, they pulled back from him, snapping their surgical gloves off. They absentmindedly found themselves a bit thankful that there wasn't much to clean up when it came to him.

       "...Um. You can leave." They cleared their throat. "If— if you want to. I don't know when Lord Second will be back, so I would... leave. If I were you. I also need to sterilize the table, so... if you would..?"

       He didn't respond. 

       "Right. Um... I suppose I'll leave it for one of the segments, then... I'm heading out for the day, Lord Sixth."

       Guilt nagged at their conscience, and they wanted to apologize, but somehow the words got stuck in their throat and, no matter how hard they tried, could not be dislodged. So, they nodded in polite acknowledgement before quietly grabbing their things and heading out.

       A weight settled in their gut as they swallowed thickly, stumbling out of the lab and closing the door behind them. A chill immediately settled into their bones; however, they paid it no mind, keeping their head tilted down as they walked down the halls and giving no response other than a hum to any other Fatui agents that nodded their way respectfully.

       In their daze, they did not notice the looming presence they were about to run head-first into.

       Run head-first into him, they certainly did.

       A sharp gasp was inhaled through their nose, and their instinctive response was to snap at whoever it was they bumped into; before they could, however, they caught a glimpse of the person's footwear.

       Il Dottore. One of his older segments, if they had to guess based on shoes alone. They did not get the chance to apologize. In fact, they barely even had the chance to process who they were looking at and how they should go about their apology; should it have been short and to the point accompanied only by a polite nod, or should they have gone as far as to bow at the waist level? The answer would slightly vary depending on what segment it was (there was surprisingly little variance overall, but they did need to express a bit more guilt with some segments for their apology to be accepted without punishment), but they had no time to even think about how to apologize before he began to speak.

       "My, [Surname]"—they could hear the entertained smile in his voice, and in an instant, the gears in their head clicked together in recognition of what segment in particular they had run into—"terribly distracted, aren't you?"

       "I'm..." They did not raise their head. Instead, they simply stepped back, hands fidgeting somewhat with the handle of the bag they held. "I'm sorry, Lord Psi. I wasn't watching where I was going."

       Psi, twenty-third of Il Dottore's twenty-four segments, and—fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who one asked—the one who seemed to like them the most. A polite, straightforward apology without any excessive expressions of fear and respect would do.

       He was no different than any of the other segments in that he was an oddity and an enigma, someone who was not easily understood, but he was more personable than most. Oftentimes, it was him who attended publicity events in the place of the man himself. The original Il Dottore was generally not known for patience or grace. Therefore, the most logical action would be to send someone more… agreeable to such events. Psi was the only candidate for that kind of responsibility. He was no less of a threat than the others—he was simply harder to anger and easier to get along with.

       They supposed it was preferable to run into him instead of someone else.

       "Well, that much, I can certainly see."

       "Ah. Yes..." It was then that they finally straightened up and dared to peer at his face. "I should be going, sir. If you'll excuse me—"

       "Wait just a moment, mouse."

       Mouse. Mouse. He always called them that, if not their first or last name, and it made their stomach twist sickly every single time (they faintly recalled the first time he addressed them in such a way, but with that memory, they also recalled scalpels and cold metal digging into their skin that made their throat close up anxiously). It was demeaning and cruel and belittling. They expected no less from him.

       ...Yet somehow, he also made it sound fond, but not... fond. Fond, as one would speak to a pet—not fond in the way one might speak to a loved one.

       And really, they supposed that to him, they were a pet. They were most certainly not a loved one; they were simply a favored little mouse. Small, docile, and fragile in a way that was endearingly cute—a thing that could be grabbed by the tail and dragged around against its will with nothing to say in opposition for fear of angering its captor. It was disgustingly fitting.

       If they were a mouse—the prey—then they supposed that would make him a crow, the opportunistic predator who may not normally eat mice such as them, but could and undoubtedly would if he was given the chance to.

       A mouse trapped in a cage, constantly circled by crows threatening to finally kill them at any given point without warning…

       …Yes, that was accurate indeed.

       The leather of his gloves brushed against their neck, tilting their chin up to get a better look at their throat. They tried not to swallow too harshly—he'd know if they did, and then he would know that they were nervous. Then again, he would know regardless, since their pulse was ringing loud in their ears and his thumb pressed into their neck dangerously near to where he would be able to feel their heartbeat.

       He knew, and they were sure he was thriving on it.

       "...Sir?"

       "That is quite the nasty wound you've attained," he mused, withdrawing his hands from their neck, much to their relief. "I assume that the doll gave it to you?"

       "Yes. Lord Sixth and I got into an... altercation."

       "An altercation," he echoed, the very same amused tone seeping back into his voice. "I see. In that case, before you go, shall we treat this wound of yours? You would hate to worry your dear parents by returning in such a poor state, I'm sure."

       It was clear that he was not asking. They had no choice but to wordlessly nod and follow him back to the lab. 

       Upon entering, gently shutting the door behind themselves, they were relieved to find that Scaramouche had left. They really weren’t sure if they were relieved for him or themselves. Were they relieved knowing he would not have to face one of the segments in such a vulnerable state of being (though, somehow they were sure that he had done so multiple times in the past), or were they relieved knowing they did not have to face him again? It was truly anyone’s guess.

       Psi turned away from them, shedding his leather gloves and replacing them with disposable ones. They did not need to be told where to go nor what to do.

       They hoisted themselves up onto the cold, metal table (they could not manage to fully ignore the pounding of their heart against their ribcage—being on the one on the table for any reason was exceedingly uncomfortable) effortlessly, though not before leaving their bag by the door to grab on their way out.

       “Are you wounded elsewhere?”

       Their heart leapt somewhat in surprise of the voice cutting through the silence, and they chided themselves for being so tense. “No, sir. Only around my neck.”

       He hummed in a wordless acknowledgement.

       As he turned back towards them, the click of his shoes echoing eerily as he got closer and only ceasing once he stood directly in front of them, they straightened their spine somewhat. When his hands reached out to them, they tilted their chin upwards.

       They were not particularly interested in knowing what exactly he was doing; they only wanted it to be over as soon as possible so that they could leave for the day and return to the one place they dared to feel perfectly safe.

       “I hear that Beta was quite upset upon learning that you’d been to Haeresys today, yet left without seeing him.”

       They did not doubt it. Beta, the second of Il Dottore’s twenty-four segments… no, they did not doubt it whatsoever. He was very easily amused but equally volatile, and they knew he particularly liked the agents that were intelligent enough to understand even a little bit of his research; they were very possibly the first agent that would come to mind when thinking of someone who fit that criterion, unfortunately. They also knew that he was far more prone to anger than some of the others.

       They very much hoped that he was only mildly upset. If he was extremely bothered, however, he might just decide to hold them hostage the next time they visit—it was certainly not above him to do so.

       “Is that so?” they murmured, flinching somewhat upon feeling a gel’s cold bite against their wounded skin. “...I’ll make it up to him. Since I had to perform routine maintenance on the Sixth, I could not have stayed for long. Perhaps I’ll return to Haeresys on one of the lab’s less busy days.”

       “Well, he will most definitely hold you to it. Don’t make promises you cannot keep.”

       Somehow, they just knew that was a threat… a threat on Beta’s behalf, no doubt. They had long assumed that all the segments were connected mentally, though they had no real proof of that claim. They never cared to ask; it was simply always implied, a silent fact that they had been consciously aware of for quite a long time now. Moments such as these made them certain that it was true.

       They did not reply, opting for a simple hum instead.

       Moments passed in silence. Then, Psi spoke up once again after withdrawing from their body a final time:

       “You are dismissed, mouse. Take these”—he placed a small pill bottle at their side—”for the next week. One pill twice a day, in the morning and at night. We cannot afford to let your wounds get infected.’

       “Yes, sir.” They nodded. Only when he turned away from them did they get off of the table, taking the pills with them. Fear, more or less irrational in its nature yet nonetheless deeply ingrained into their instincts, still coursed through their veins. The racing of their heart had yet to settle down, and their hands trembled somewhat.

       It was with quick footsteps that they darted towards the door, snatching up their bag, before making a quick departure.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot! written by aphelion & banner by @www-songbird. do not plagiarize, copy, ai train, or otherwise use my work -☆

[goddesswritings]

“Can I slap her for you?” -  Corpse Husband | Part Two

Title: “Can I slap her for you?” – Part Two

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Reader

Summary: Being stuck living with the queen of YouTube drama and partying during the pandemic has seriously worn down your patience. Meeting Pokimane has changed your life for the better, making Among Us a pivotal part of your life.

Word Count: 5.2k

Unedited for now. I was eager to post. I will edit it later.

Corpse Masterlist

********

<< PART ONE

After you left the apartment, you sat in the parking lot of some random store, trying to decide what to do now. Sighing, you opened your phone and went to Instagram. Corpse was probably wondering if it went okay.

Corpse: She left the stream, thank you!

Corpse: What exactly did you do?

Corpse: She’s sending Sean angry DM’s now.

Corpse: Hey, are you okay?

Y/n: Hey sorry, I had to pack. I’m fine, happy to help get her out of the stream. I switched off the power to her office.

Honestly, you wished you could have stood up against her more often than you did. She was four years younger, so you should have been able to have the say in things. But no, Olivia was a control freak and a spoiled brat too. She would no doubt tell your parents you started a fight with her, and she felt unsafe.

Corpse: Wow, you’re badass. Packing for what?

Y/n: Um, she may have kicked me out of the apartment, and I may have left without a fight because I’m tired of her shit. 🤷‍♀️

Corpse: Do you have a place to stay?

Of course you didn’t and you really should have thought about that before just leaving the way you did.

Y/n: Not really but I will find somewhere.

Well you hoped you could. There weren’t many people who were keen in taking in a friend during a pandemic.

Corpse: Poki’s going to call you.

At that message, your phone started to wring and sure enough, it was Poki.

“Hello?” You asked hesitantly.

“So someone let it slip that your sister kicked you out?” Poki said calmly.

“Is that someone, Corpse?”

“Yes, he said it out of shock but I’m glad he did. Knowing you, you would have kept it a secret from me.” She was right. You hated inconveniencing your friends.

“Damn you, Corpse.” You muttered making her laugh. “Yeah so I ruined Olivia’s stream and she started screaming at me before kicking me out. I didn’t fight it because I am tired of her.”

“Understandable. Well do you need somewhere to stay?”

“Yes but I will find some place.”

“Nope, you’re staying with me. Come over now or I am coming out to drag you back to my place.” Her protectiveness made you smile.

“Sure, I’ll be there in a few.” You hung up.

Y/n: Thank you for looking out for my stubborn ass, Corpse. I would have never told her.

Corpse: Stubborn is one word to describe you. Cute is another.

That comment made your face heat up from the sheer adorableness of it. Corpse seriously just called you cute.

Y/n: Can I say you have a genuinely nice hand. It’s marvelous.

Corpse: Hey, don’t make fun of my hand. It takes all the heat for me. That hand is very anxious every time I post him.

Y/n: Awe I bet. Give him hugs from me. Also tell him I’m a big fan!

The easy flow of conversation between the two of you was nice. You got along extremely well and talking outside of the game was nice, since you could focus on what you really wanted to say to him.

Corpse: He’s flattered!

This was great and took your mind off Olivia and the fact she just kicked you to the curb with nowhere to go. But Poki was there for you. You appreciated her more than she knew.

You pulled up in front of her apartment building, parking the car, you got out and grabbed your stuff. Typing in the code Poki had given you a while ago, you were let into the building. Entering the elevator, you made your way to her apartment.

Barely knocking, the door flew open to reveal Poki. She looked mad but also worried. She pulled you into the apartment and hugged you tightly.

“Can I slap her for you?” She asked calmly.

This made you giggle. “I mean I would like to slap her as well.”

“We should make a plan. Hey, the group is still on, come say hi.” She started to lead you to her office.

“Are they still streaming?” You didn’t want to reveal your face to the world, not like this.

“Oh no. We ended our streams when Olivia started talking about you. She completely wasn’t respecting your privacy and we weren’t about to let her spill it to our viewers.” That was so sweet of them to do.

You had left your bags in the other room while you followed her. An idle conversation was going on when you entered.

“Hey guys, I’m back.” Poki took a seat in front of the computer, she pulled up a second chair. “I have someone special here.”

Sitting down, you saw her nod for you to say something. “Hey, did you miss me?”

They went wild.

“Y/n! Oh we missed you!”

“Don’t leave us again.”

“I’m sorry I invited your sister to stream.”

“Hey Y/n.”

The mix of voices was overwhelming in a good way. Sykkuno, Rae, Sean, and Corpse pretty much spoke over each other which made you laugh.

“One at a time, guys. You can’t overload her.” Leslie told them.

“Sorry Y/n. We just really missed having you here. You’ve become one of our favorite friends to play with.” Sykkuno said sounding as sweet as ever. That man was just the best.

“Yes, I can say we agree.” Rae added.

It was nice to hear they missed you. It really helped to lift your mood as well.

“Did your sister really kick you out?” Toast asked

“Yes she did. But it’s not surprising at this point. She’s probably been gunning to kick me out as soon as she could.” Sad truth

“Well she’s the worst player ever. She can’t keep a secret at all. I really should have never agreed to get her into the group.” Sean said sounding sad.

“Hey Sean, please don’t worry about it. She’s always weaseling her way into things. It’s completely not your fault.” One of the things she loved to do was incessantly DM other youtubers for collabs or for free stuff. She really had no morals.

“Well thank you, Y/n. You’re literally the sweetest.” Sean said earning a bunch of ‘I Agrees’ from everyone else. That really was helping make the night better.

“Who’s up for some more Among Us to relax after that shitshow?” Lud asked making everyone laugh hard. It was agreed the group would do it. Luckily, you had your laptop and joined the call and game and stayed in Poki’s living room to play. Honestly, it was so good for you.

**

At the end if gaming, you said goodbye to the group. Then Poki showed you to the extra room that used to be her roommates before she moved out last month.

“Hey, are you looking for a roommate?” You asked as you put the bags on the bed.

Poki sent you a smile. “I am. Are you interested?”

This was good. “Yes, I mean I still have to find another job since my main is still furloughing me until this pandemic gets better but I have some money saved up.”

“Hey, please don’t sweat it. Besides, I know a friend who’s in need of an editor, I may have mentioned your name and she really wants to talk to you about it. Is that okay?”

“Wow, that’s perfect. Thank you, Poki. You’re such a great friend.” It felt good to have someone there for you.

She pulled you into a hug. “Always. I am so glad I met you. You’re one of my best friends.”

This was an honor. “Don’t make me cry.”

“I can’t promise anything. Anyway, I will leave you to rest. It’s been a long night. Tomorrow I will give you my friends details.”

“Sounds good, night Poki.”

“Goodnight, Y/n.” She waved goodbye and closed the door behind herself.

Smiling, you sat on the bed. It was such a good thing that she was here got you. But also Corpse was the catalyst that got you to actually tell Poki was what happening. He was sweet and it seemed he was looking out for you.

After changing into comfy pj’s, you brushed your teeth before climbing into the freshly made bed. Opening Instagram, you saw that Corpse has messaged you.

Corpse: I don’t like being too forward but hey here we go. Can I please have your number so we can talk more easily?

A smile made its way to your face. For a tough man, he surely had a sweet way of getting to you

Y/n: Yes you can. xxx-xxx-xxxx.

The nerves jumped when you sent that message. Less than a minute later, you received a text from an unknown number.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

Hey Y/n, it’s Corpse. Would you mind if I called you so we could talk for a little?

You liked this idea truthfully. It only helped to show how genuine Corpse was being.

Y/n

Not at all. Please go ahead and call me.

Your phone rang, displaying Corpse’s name.

“Hello?” You answered the phone while pushing away the anxiety.

A soft deep laugh filled your ear. “Hey sweet girl. How are you feeling?”

His words made you want to sigh in the most lovesick way. That never happened these days.

“I’m good. Poki had an extra room I could crash in and well I might just be her new roommate.”

“I love that. She’s so much better than your sister I assume.”

“She is. Here I won’t have to deal with the incessant pandemic partying Olivia likes to do.” That selfish bitch.

“Shit, is she stupid? She does know she’s risking a lot of lives, right?” You loved that Corpse had the logic you craved.

“So she is stupid, and her response was always that it’s not her problem and that the vulnerable people should stay home.”

“She sounds like the typical beauty youtuber these days.”

“Yes, she is. She has no morals.”

“Well that’s not good. I guess that’s why her name keeps popping up all over social media. She really needs to be careful, before she becomes the next Tana.” He was right but you personally thought she was past that point already.

“It’s too late. She’s already passed the point of return with all of this.”

“Yikes. It’s good you got out of there when you did.” A soft but deep laugh was heard through the phone. The sound made you giggle. Hearing such a tough guy laugh the way Corpse laughs, made you feel giddy. “So about what I said earlier, I meant it.”

“Huh, what are you talking about?” You truly were a little lost by this.

Corpse laughed again. “When I called you cute earlier. I meant it.”

Heat filled your face and a small smile made its way to your lips. “Thank you, Corpse. That’s really sweet of you. I don’t like to show many people who I am because they will immediately connect me to Olivia, and I don’t want that.”

“I get that. I don’t show my face for fear they won’t like me when I do. All my fans have built up this expectation of what they want me to look like and now I just don’t want to let them down. Plus it’s nice being able to stay anonymous if I go into public, but of course people will hear my voice and know. Shit, it’s hard.”

“Awe, I’m sorry. I saw what the attention has done to some people, but I think not everyone goes into that headspace. Also, I think you should stay faceless if it makes you feel better. There is no rule that says you ever have to show your face. People who push you to do it have no boundaries.”

Corpse was quiet for a while and you thought you had offended him. “I’m sorry if I said the wrong thing, Corpse.” You squeaked.

“No, you said the right thing. I was just thinking. You’re right. A lot of people have been on me to reveal my face, but I never intend to. I want to be able to live my life without being swarmed by fans, or god forbid, them judging me by my appearance.”

“Which is really fucked. When I first appeared in my sister video, the comments were awful. They couldn’t understand how she was related to me, but I never thought I looked bad. But I guess they expected Olivia to be surrounded by people in her genre. It was so hard to see those comments.” Thinking back to it, Olivia had even added to it. Telling you that you should have tried to look more like her for the video. You should have worn something more colorful and put-on way more make up then you liked. But you hated that. That wasn’t you.

“I can’t imagine the things they said. Is that why you deactivated your twitter?” How did he know about that?

“Oh, yeah. How did you know about it?”

“I remembered seeing a story about it on YouTube last year. They didn’t show your face, so of course I didn’t know it was you. But I figured it out when Olivia joined the game tonight and she blabbered on about being your sister. I’m sorry you received that hate. No one deserves that ever.” His voice was calming you now.

“Thank you. Olivia seemed to add to it, as well. Fuck, she’s just the worst person.” Family definitely had the ability to be shitty. “Meeting Poki last year really was the best thing. But also joining this Among Us group has been so good for me. Thank you for accepting me.”

“Of course. You’re a natural in the game but you also fit very well with the group.” Corpse really hoped you believed him because this was true. The group had a whole conversation about it when Olivia finally left

“I’m flattered. The Corpse Husband is telling me I fit in with him and his streamer friends. Wake me up, I must be dreaming.” You knew his words were genuine because it was just easy to tell.

“You better believe it, baby, because it’s true.”

You stopped short when you heard him call you baby. Of course Corpse had used that word before but right now it felt more intimate.

Letting out a yawn you realized it was nearing 4 am. “I appreciate it.” You mumbled, feeling the events from the day seep in.

“You’re tired, aren’t you?” His deep voice was lulling you closer to sleep.

“No.” Another yawn broke through.

“You can’t lie to me, Y/n. Get some sleep and we will talk tomorrow.”

The words made you smile. “That sounds good, Corpsie. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweet girl.” Despite wanting to stay on the phone, you hung up. Sleep was quickly coming in to claim you. You can happily say you fell asleep with a huge smile on your face.

**

Waking up was easier than it had been in a long time. Normally you woke up to Olivia screaming at you or someone else. So it was nice to wake up to silence. It allowed you to relax and wake up properly.

Your phone buzzed from beside you. A text from Corpse is what you first saw, so you opened it.

Corpse

Good morning, sweet girl. I hope the night treated you well.

Sweet and to the point. His messages made you think he had a thing for you. Well you hoped he did but he also could just be treating you the way he treats friends.

Y/n

Yes, I slept well and for once I wasn’t awoken by my obnoxious sister.

It would he good not to live with her.

Corpse

I bet. Hey I hate to be the one to show you this, but your sister posted this on her instagram.

He then sent a link to the post. It made your blood boil.

::::

There was a picture of her, she was holding up a ripped picture of you. A huge frown was on her face.

oliviaxoxo It’s a shame when family starts to treat you like you weren’t the one to give them money when they needed it. This is my sister and she’s a bitch. For the last few years, she’s been the one editing my videos. Well I found out she was trying to sabotage me, so I had to fire her and kick her out. What a shame it is when family stabs you in the back. 🙃🙃

1,454,787 people like this

oliviafan23 Is this true? Damn, f*ck fake people.

queenolivia Sueeee herrrrr!

lovinliv Family ain’t shit. Spill her info so we can drag her.

sykkuwu Whoa, why are you spreading lies about your own family?

   |

queenolivia Why would you defend someone like that?

valkyrea You’re such a sad human for doing this. Stop lying.

pokimanelol Let’s see, none of this is true. Your sister has done so much for you and you’ve never appreciated it. Get some help for this.

corpse_husband This is sick. No wonder your name is always blasted everywhere. Do your sister a favor and stop talking about her.

    |

oliviaxoxo I don’t know why you’re defending my stupid sister, but that totally makes you not hot to me anymore. Ugh.

   |

valkyrea Uh, that’s what you got from this. Wow, you’re not worth this.

    |

corpse_husband What can you expect? The covid must have gone to her brain.    |

corpseandlivfan Whyyyyyyy Corpse, why would you stand up for her. Do you not realize how horrible Y/n is? Please tell me this is a joke!?!?

   |

 corpse_husband Well, she’s a good friend of mine and I won’t let people make up lies. So it’s not a joke.

::::::::

You were mad that she’d even say this shit publicly, but you should have known she would. She was nothing without her group of misguided followers.

Y/n

Can’t say I’m not surprised. This is so on brand for her. Thank you for sticking up for me. It means a lot.

Corpse

I would do it any day. She shouldn’t be able to get away with doing that to you.

Sadly, growing up, she did get away with doing the absolute worst shit and you always received the brunt of it.

Y/n

With any luck, she draws negative attention.

You clicked the link to view it again but instead were lead to a page that said the content was unavailable.

Y/n

I believe she just deleted the post.

Corpse

Oh, she did. That’s awesome.

It was. Olivia was never one to swallow her pride and admit any wrongdoings. That means she would never delete a problematic post, but she finally did

Y/n

I didn’t really read any other comments besides you and your friends and the top comments. I can’t imagine what her fans are really saying.

Olivia was completely okay with letting her fans attack people. It was seriously a huge mess. She fell into the category of YouTuber with the worst most entitled attitude.

Corpse

It’s good you didn’t read them, because they were horrible. I can’t believe she would let her fans do that.

Y/n

She’s done a lot of shady stuff. This is even before she blew up on YouTube. There is a lot of issues between us.

There was a lot that could be said about your relationship with Olivia and none of them were good. Forever it seemed, you had tried to make it work and hoped your sister would grow up and change but it never happened.

Corpse

I think she’s a vile human. From what I have seen and her complete lack of human decency, I just can’t help but feel she’s just not a good person and she never will be.

He was right. She would never change.

Y/n

You’re right. Hey, I have to go thank Poki for letting me stay but I also need to go back to that apartment to get the rest of my stuff. Can I call you when I get back?

Corpse

Yes, of course. Good luck heading over there.

Talking to him was pretty natural feeling. It was clear now that you were getting a massive crush on him. You had a crush on a man who’s face you’ve never seen. You couldn’t help it though, his personality just meshed so well with yours. He’d made you feel safe and wanted.

After getting dressed, you found Poki in the kitchen making breakfast. She sent you a sweet smile when you entered the room.

“Thank you for standing up for me against my sister on Instagram.” You were truly honored this group of friends liked you enough to do something like this.

“You’re welcome. I couldn’t just let her say that and get away with it. She’s done a lot to you, that you don’t deserve. Corpse messaged all of us the minute he found it and we all jumped into action. Sean and Felix were getting ready to comment when she deleted it.” She explained as she set a plate in front of you.

“I’m so honored. Thank you!”

“Of course, you’re one of us now and we will never let her get away with this stuff anymore.”

You could just cry with how loved they were making you feel. This is what had been missing in your life. Friends who genuinely cared about you and wanted to protect you from the nasty stuff Olivia was capable of doing.

“Would you come with me to the apartment to get the rest of my stuff?” You asked once the two of you finished eating.

Poki nodded. “Of course I will. You shouldn’t have to go alone.”

**

An hour later, you exited the elevator on the floor where you once resided. Your sister wasn’t home, which would be good but there was a chance she could return while you were packing. But you would deal with that when it came down to it. The two of you quickly got to work, packing your life up into the boxes you’d brought with you. Luckily, you weren’t one to collect a ton of stuff. You mainly just had to make sure your clothes and makeup were packed up.          

You and Poki would fill boxes and pile them by there door, then you would take them down to the car when you acquired a good amount. In the end, you figured you would fill maybe 10 boxes which is actually not too many considering you’ve lived in that apartment for five years.

Poki had left to go take two more boxes to the car while you finished up packing up your last few items. The front door closed, and you assumed it was Poki, but it wasn’t.

“Oh look who’s here? My lovely sister.” Olivia’s voice was flat and emotionless.

You rolled your eyes and turned to find her standing in the doorway, glaring at you. “Hello, Olivia. I’m just packing my stuff and then I’m leaving.”

“Who said you were allowed to come back here?” She grumbled, eyeing the boxes.

“Well, this is my stuff and I have every right to come pick it up.”

“If it’s in my apartment, it clearly belongs to me.” She snarled.

You snapped. “Cut it out, Olivia. This was my apartment too, until you kicked me out last night. You can’t just claim my stuff as your because you’re salty about me having friends.” She was a spoiled brat, and you were done letting her get away with it.

“I’m not the salty one. Everyone can see it’s you.” God she was so annoying. You taped up the last box and turned to her. She held her phone in her hand. “Everyone say hi to my sister. You know, the one I posted about earlier before someone reported my post.”

“Are you live?” You asked, keeping your face expressionless. Olivia would do this.

“I bet some of you remember the few videos I did with her. Well of course that was before she turned against me and decided she was going to try and ruin me. Say hi, Y/n.” A sick smile played on her face.

“I never consented to being in your live, Olivia. Please stop.” You tried to keep your voice calm so that she wouldn’t have any way to make you look like the bad person. But regardless, she was already doing it.

Olivia cackled. “Well I think I’m free to do as I please in my apartment.” You could only imagine what her fans were saying. “You’re right, Andrea, she is an idiot, and I should have her arrested.” She spoke aloud making your blood boil.

“You’re so immature, Olivia.” You grumbled before grabbing the last couple boxes and moving towards the door. Olivia decided to swat the boxes out of your hand, and they fell tumbling to the ground. “What the hell, Olivia. I could have fragile stuff in there.” You growled at her.

Olivia was just laughing. “This is funny. What else should I do, guys?” She asked as she panned the phone around the room.

Her immaturity was giving you a headache. Poki walked in and saw Olivia.

“Oh hey guys, look who’s here. Pokimane.” She panned the camera to Poki who frowned. Olivia just laughed and started talking shit until she was cut off by the stream just ending. “What the hell.”

You gathered the last few boxes, and Poki came to help while Olivia attempted to start another live.

“What the fuck, it won’t let me go live.” She growled while stomping her foot like a child.

“That’s what happens when an influx of people report your live.” Poki spoke as you both had gathered the boxes.

Olivia was frowning. “What did you do, Y/n.” She wanted to pounce at her, but Y/n and Poki were already at the door.

“Y/n did nothing, but I got word of your little livestream and contacted some friends for help. It will be at least 24 hours before you can have another live. But with the amount of people who reported you, well you may be banned for a while.” With that, you and Poki left Olivia standing there is absolute shock.

You and Poki put the last boxes in the car. “Thank you, Poki. How did you get so many people to report it?”

“Well it was actually Corpse. He texted me and informed me that she was doing a live and bothering you. He had his fans go report it, but apparently Sykkuno and Rae also sent their fans. I was going to send mine, but they had it handled. So this was all Corpse.” She explained.

Hearing this made you feel so soft for Corpse. “Awe wow. That’s so sweet of him.”

The two of you entered the car. “Y/n, can I tell you something without you telling him I told you?”

You looked over at her. “Yes, sure.” Your heart rate kind of picked up.

“Well the other day, Corpse admitted he has feelings for you, but he wasn’t completely sure if you felt the same way for him. But I mean I can clearly see you do. Your whole face just lit up when I mentioned him. So do you?”

Heat filled your face and you suddenly felt shy. “I do, yes. Which is ridiculous because I just met the guy, and I don’t even know what he looks like. But gosh, I like him so much. When I talk to him, I feel happy. He’s been so good to me through this crap with Olivia.” You admitted, knowing she already knew.

Poki smiled and squealed in complete happiness. “You two are just the most adorable people! It’s not ridiculous. We pretty much knew from the first time you joined us, that Corpse was into you. But oh my god, you’re into him. You need to tell him!!!!”

You agreed, Corpse deserved to know. “I do. But how? It’s been a really long time since I’ve told someone I liked them. Shit, I feel like I’m in high school again!”

This made Poki giggle. “Calm down, Y/n. I have a plan. Let’s get back to the apartment and we will talk about this. Rae also wants to be involved in this.”

Back at her apartment, you had jumped onto a call with Rae and the three of you talked about what your plan was for you to tell Corpse what you felt for him. Rae and Poki decided to organize an Among Us game strictly for fun and no one would stream, they would also use Proximity chat.

“So we will get him to follow you around until one of us is imposter, then we will lock you into wherever you end up. Do it then” Rae explained sounding so excited.

“Okay, that can work. Let’s do this!” You were nervous but also excited to finally do something good for yourself.

You and Poki set up for the gane and Corpse sent you a text.

Corpse

Are you joining the game tonight?

Seeing a text from him, made you feel giddy.

Y/n

Yep I am. So I will see you in game?

Corpse

Yes you will, angel.

Cue the insane butterflies.

**

The lobby loaded and it was you, Corpse, Poki, Rae, Sykkuno, Karl, Tina, Sean, Toast, and Leslie. All streamers you had grown to like a lot in the time you have been playing with them.

“Y/n, I am so happy you’re playing with us!” Tina gushed as her little character ran around yours.

“I’m happy to be here.” You really were.

“You’re sister is a piece of work, Y/n.” Sykkuno said.

You giggled. “Don’t I know it.”

“What did she do this time?” Sean asked.

“Decided to film a live when we went to get Y/n’s stuff from the apartment.” Poki explained.

“Oh, that’s gross.” Karl commented.

“I have to thank Corpse for helping.” You stated to the group.

“Yeah Corpse was quick to text us.” Sykkuno added.

“You’re welcome, Y/n. I wasn’t going to let her get away with what she was doing. Truth is, I got a bunch of fan DMs that were telling me what Olivia was doing. So a lot of my fans were already reporting it, but the tweet helped.” Corpse’s deep voice soothed you.

“I appreciate it so much. She was just being an immature brat as always.”

The group laughed before deciding to start the game. Poki and Rae agreed to text you when either of them were imposter. Now it was a matter of getting Corpse to follow you.

The group was on the Polus map, which seemed to be a favorite for everyone.

Rae

We should lock them in weapons.

Rae had texted you and Poki through the group text.

Poki

That’s the best place for them.

Y/n

Okay but I still have to get him to follow me.

Rae

He will. Just wait, I have a plan.

You trusted Rae and Poki to help you. Now it was time to admit it all to Corpse and hope he genuinely liked you back.

Y/n

Let’s do this!

PART THREE  >>                                         

[barbwritesstuff]

Hello everyone.

This post is going to talk about a particular issue with the sex scenes in Blood Moon, in particular trans inclusive choices. I’m going to use explicit language to talk about these scenes. If you’re a player that isn’t interested in sexually explicit content (and I know some of you aren’t), feel free to skip this post.

As many of you probably know, Chapter Six of Blood Moon contains the first three sex scenes of the game. I was very nervous writing these, and I really tried hard to make them dynamic, inclusive, and respectful. This is a big part of the reason why it took two months to write Chapter Six, instead of just one.

I’ve gotten a lot of feedback regarding these sex scenes. The vast majority of that feedback has been positive, which is a tremendous relief. However, shortly after posting the update, it quickly became clear that some choices were confusing some people.

In particular, the ‘condom choice’.

To specify, as a way to try to be trans inclusive in my sex scenes, and not break the narrative flow of the story, I asked players if their character needed a condom.

So, for example, when a player is having sex with Shawnie they will be given this choice:

If, and only if, they select the bottom of these three options, they will (after some text) be presented with this choice:

This was presented to all players, regardless of the gender they selected at the start of the game. It was my way of trying to be trans inclusive, without asking the ‘do you have a penis?’ question, which I thought would be awkward and ruin the mood.

A similar choice appears in Vicky’s sex scene. Marco’s sex scene doesn’t have a choice like this, because the sexual activity performed in that scene works no matter the player’s sex organs.

Unfortunately, a small number of people playing female characters reported the ‘condom choice’ as a bug.

I explained that it wasn’t a bug, and most people were accepting of this, though some said they’d rather that choice be elsewhere. I considered this but rejected the idea. I didn’t want to put this choice elsewhere, as I don’t want to ask players about their character’s sex organs until after they’ve consented to an explicit sex scene.

However, because enough people were initially confused, I spoke with some readers I trust, as well as a couple of people on discord, and tried and figure out a clearer way to present the question so people wouldn’t get confused (and I don’t want to judge anyone for being confused by this question, it was deliberately vague in order to maintain the mood, and comprehensive trans inclusive sex education is a rarity around the world).

In the end, what I decided to do was change the question to be really frank and obvious, to make it clear what exactly I was asking.

And so, the question became:

I thought this was frank, obvious, a little awkward, but it would be over quickly, and it’s still only presented to the people who explicitly choose certain sexual activities. Not ideal, but perhaps better than what I had originally. I even added some variables with the intension of programming the game so the player only ever had to answer this question once.

However, I missed an obvious thing which some of you may have already realised.

That is... in replacing the old choice with this one, it creates a situation in which choosing ‘yes’ (in Shawnie’s sex scene) immediately links the player up to the penetrative scene (which a condom would infer, but a penis wouldn’t). This honestly didn’t occur to me until an anon sent me this message:

And... anon. You’re totally right. I fucked up. It was never my intension for the scene to read that way, and I’m really sorry that it did. I hope I haven’t hurt you, and thank you so so much for taking the time to reach out to me. This sort of feedback is invaluable.

So, in light of all this, I have reverted Shawnie’s scene back to the ‘condom choice’ (Vicky’s scene still has the penis choice for now because it doesn’t have the same issues).

Personally, I don’t think the condom choice is a bad choice. Yes, it will confuse some cis people, but frankly they aren’t, and shouldn’t be the priority here. And them being momentarily confused is far better than ruining the scene for someone else.

However, I want more opinions on this. Do you think the ‘condom choice’ works? Should I do something else? Is there any other ways I could make these scenes better and more trans inclusive?

For obvious reasons, I’ve very interested in trans perspectives on this.

Thank you to everyone who has reached out and helped make this game better. I hope you’ll bare with me as I sort through these issues. Also, just to let you know, I do get some anxiety about interacting with people online, so sometimes it takes a while for me to respond to things. I hope that’s okay.

[laketaj24]

Needy: William, Lovecraft Fanfiction

Author’s Note: Hello again! I hope you all have been well. Conjured this up last night and had to post it! It’s smuttier than the last, sorry, but not for real lmao. Happy reading! Let me know what you think! Taglist/ Requests are open! To be added or removed hit my asks! Thank you! (SN: He doesn’t have a last name on the show, as far as I can remember, so I made one up. Thanks)

Pairings: William x Reader, Lovecraft Fanfiction

Warnings: Smut. Language.

William Bradford owned the law firm at the edge of downtown, perched on a corner, and lit by the streetlight, where he called the area a prime spot. There was no denying that there was a surplus of business flowing from the place; he was well known for having the legal talents to handle almost any case; it was irksome, sometimes. You stood at the frosted door, wondering if you should turn around; it had been a few days since you last saw William, and the last conversation had not ended on good terms. He had tried to call four times that you knew of, and you only knew because he left a message with your roommate. It was a risk to even leave a message with her; she already had doubts that your relationship with him was platonic.

The walk from uptown had given you time to think of why you were here in the first place; you were no longer content with the status of your relationship. No, there was not too much that could change, but you had a proposal that William would find interesting.

It took a few minutes, but you decided to enter the office; you did miss him after all, and walking the distance you did deserve at least a small reward, even if that was just seeing his face. The phone’s trill ring occurred every five seconds, and the curvy secretary did not seem to have enough hands or ears to get to them all.

“Bradford Law Firm?” She said with a deep sigh. “No, apologize; he is busy for the afternoon.” A moment of silence passes, and then she shakes her head as if the person on the other line could see her. “Yes, William has 3pm tomorrow available.”

You say nothing stepping away from her desk while slipping the gloves from your hands. The chill of the fall had started to take over outside. You loved the change in weather; you’d discovered it to be sexier for William to have more to take off when he had the chance. The walls of the office were basically bare; only the photo of his beloved car and his law degree had the privilege to be on them. He loved things simples, in decor but not so much in relationships. The relationship between the two of you was everything but simple.

“Ms. YN.” She looked up from her desk with a warm smile, but her eyes bared the truth. The secretary was not fond of the two of you; you didn’t care, though.

“Hi, Caroline.” You waved. “Mr. Bradford and I are having lunch.”

“I do not see you here on the schedule.”

 The door opened in front of you, and he appeared. The navy tailored suit fit him, well, accentuating the slender cut of his waist all while flaunting that he indeed was from old money. “Ms. Y/L/N, how can I be of service?” William’s hands were shoved into his pocket as he leaned against the wooden doorjamb. “Legal troubles?”

“Now you know damn well,” Your throat was dry all of a sudden; you cleared it subtly and exhaled. “Our lunch date,” You laughed, hoping that he would not embarrass you in front of this woman you barely even like.

“I was just informing Y/N she was not on the schedule.”

“Of course, she is not on it; she does not need to make an appointment for lunch or for anything for that matter.” William moves from the door with the slight swagger in his walk that you’d grown accustomed to walking from afar, and one thing was sure it looked better up close. His eyes carefully examine you from head to toe, pausing at the cream pencil skirt that halted just above your knee. He swiped his hand over his mouth and then smiled at you. “How are you?”

“Tired, I walked from across town for our lunch date, and you aren’t going to offer me a seat.” The harmless flirting in person was the closest thing to foreplay you’d manage to display. You return the lustful look, dragging your eyes over his body, stopping to meet his eyes.

“Forgive my manners or lack of any.” He sucked his teeth, turning to Caroline. “It appears you have earned yourself a long lunch. You can return at two.”

“That’s two hours.” She scoffed in protest.

“I know.” His lips were pursed in a fine line, displaying his dismay in her questions. “I stated it would be a long lunch.” William took her jacket and purse from the hook behind her and handed it to her.

“Will you need me to bring you anything to eat?”

“I plan to eat in.” He stated with a smirk. The words instantly making you clench your legs together. “Have a good lunch Caroline.”

The dismal did not last long, for as soon as she took her belongings, he was in front of you. His arms cornering you against the wall and nose gently rubbing down the line of your face. “I called you yesterday.”

“I was studying.”

“And that’s a good reason to not answer?”

“You lived, didn’t you?”

“Barely.” He answered.

The door closes, and your fingers wrap around his tie, tugging him closer to you. “I missed you.” you smile, hoping it would ease the sting of ignoring him for a day. William needed to be told no sometimes, you spoiled him. Always answer his beck and call; no was a good thing.

Then perhaps you should act as if you did.” William stepped back, taking your hands from his tie and cocking his brow. “Did you pass those tests?”

“Yes.” You beam at him. “Glad you care.”

“I always care.”

“You weren’t allowing me time to study, keeping me up all hours of the night.” The first step into his office is calming. This place was where you first met; he’d taken up being your lawyer for a small civil suit. There hadn’t been a need to come here multiple times a day other than for him to fuck you. You were addicted to the feel of him, the charming cadence of his words, and the magic of those fingers no matter the circumstances.

“Why walk across town?” William took a seat at his desk, adjusting his tie and then peering up at you. “I could have easily come to you.”

“I felt bad about not seeing you this past week.” The softness of your voice is unexpected, but the small truths come out when you are vulnerable; you knew this.

“Then you should have come over when I asked.” He adjusted the papers on the table and clears his throat. It was not in his character to not embrace any vulnerability in you, even when he was mad at you. He was that gentleman.  “Is this an apology, Y/N?” William waited for your response.

“I don’t think I owe you an apology, William. I wanted to talk to you about some things that have been heavy on me, though, if you have the time.” You take one step towards the desk, and he holds his hand, halting you. “What?” The tension lay thick in the air.

“I just know that if you walk over here, we won’t get to talk, and you claim that is why you’re here anyhow.”

“I want,” you paused. What did you want?

“What?” He folded his arms over his chest.

“You.” The weighty word floated from your lips precariously.

William motioned you over to him, and when you were in reach, he had his hands on you. Wet kisses trailed up your neck to the rose petal-soft lips that graced your face. If it was possible to be worshipped through touch, William had perfected it. His fingers lagged soft lines up your legs, pushing the pencil skirt to allow easier access. The talented lips sung rushed kisses that turned into slow lulls, mixed with nips from his teeth and tastes from his tongue. He was everywhere, and you loved it; you wanted more. He breathed heavily once he pulled you over him; your legs dangled on each side of him. William loved the feeling of you on top of him. The weight of you was overwhelming; the sound of your moans when his hands traveled up your exposed thighs to the line of your underwear than to your soaked middle. Two hours seemed like a long time, but in truth, it was nothing two the two of you. You pushed your skirt up higher, allowing you to feel his cock through his pants.

“I’m going to ruin this dress.”

“I have to walk back uptown.”

“No, you don’t.” William pushed the curls from your face and looked up at you. “I will take you back to your place.”

“You sure about that white boy?” Your teeth graze over his earlobe, only feeling more intoxicated by him while continuing the playful banter. “Not your side of town?”

“Wherever you are, is my side of town.” He pushes his two fingers in your mouth. “Suck.” You opened your mouth, taking them in your mouth, sucking for a moment, and they were gone, back in between your legs and pushing into you expertly, causing you to bow from him. You exhaled, locking eyes with him as he started his pursuit. William pumped his fingers into you, massaging your clit with his thumb each time they entered you. Your pussy enveloped them, welcoming them in like old friends and that they were. There was no room for a coherent thought, your head fell back, and eyes rolled as he started to fuck you with his fingers. He had barely even touched your clit, and somehow you were drenched for him. “You’re so needy.” He laughed.

There was no patience in your next movements; you reached between the two of you and unbuttoned his pants. His dick pressed against his boxers. Usually, there was a rhythm to these things. He liked to get undressed at his own pace and fuck you slow. This was not today. William stood, throwing you onto the scattered papers on his desk and spread your legs wide for him to admire you.

“You’re not allowed to run today.” He gave a small smile before he unsheathed himself, pumping up and down himself a few times. William hovered over you; his dick flinched warm over the entrance of your pussy. “Understand?”

“Yes.” You shook your head, you never really intended to run, but there was only many so many times you could cum.

William places his thumb on your clit and then slams into you, hilt deep, your body quakes taking all of him and reveling in pleasure. “Sweet Y/N.” He groans, his teeth clenched as he starts to fuck you. His hips snap onto your body, knocking your body up the desk. The tips of his fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh, pulling you to meet him at each thrust, and your hips naturally wind. Grinding on him, allowing that extra tease of pleasure to your swollen nub. The deeper he sunk into you, the more intense the pleasure grew. He pulls out of you, swiping his heavy cock down your slit and then tapping playfully only to flip you over. Your ass is sat up just for him; you didn’t want him to stop.

Impatiently you rub yourself against him, feeling him jump against your skin, and then chuckle. “Calm down, sweetheart.” The charming lull of his voice is followed by his hand, pressing the arch of your back and him slamming into you. Sweet delicious sting flooded through your entire body, setting each nerve afire with a tingling sensation you could not stop. Your body shook against, and he continued to fuck you, guiding your hips to meet his thrust. Your feet hovered over the ground, and you were more than grateful for the desk holding your body because had it not been there, you might have floated away. He made you feel weightless. Your toes curled as the high pitch mewls exclaimed your ecstasy. How the fuck had you gone a week, better yet a day without him?

The flowers on the corner of the desk crashed to the floor, the glass shattering and water spattering. William didn’t care; you gripped the table as he growled, and he snapped his hips on your ass. William was chasing his high, and it was inside of you. He fucked you deeper, leaning his body over yours fully and then spreading your legs wider for better access. You imagined what you looked like spread out on the desk beneath him, unable to stop yourself from coming over and over, and one thing was sure, you were needy. How in the fuck could you not be? He slammed into you once more, and this time he grew harder, releasing himself once he was deep enough in you, and then he continued to fuck into you. He wanted to savor the moment just as much as you.

There was a mess made of the office, his clothes, and yours; there was no redemption from it. William didn’t seem to mind; he fixed himself to the best of his capabilities and then turned his attentions to you, adjusting the mess of curls atop your head and then straightening your skirt. “What are your plans for the evening?”

“Cleaning, maybe reading.”

“No studying?” William wiped the remnants of the lipstick from the side of your face and cupped your face making sure your eyes were on him.

“I hadn’t planned it.”

“Good, then come home with me.” When you said nothing, he rolled his eyes, “You are not the only one that is needy.”

“I can do that.” The smile on your face was not able to be erased at the moment.

William draped you in his coat and placed the fedora atop his head. He opened the door, not expecting to Caroline there; the permanent scowl on her face did not phase him or you for that matter. “Caroline, glad to have you back. Cancel my meetings and clean the office.” Her mouth dropped, staring at you. “After that, you are free for the afternoon. Good day to you.”

Taglist: @richonne4life​​ @readsalot73​​ @taytayize123​​ @iammrsrogers​​ @therandomthoughtsofmsparker​​ @blackcoffeeisthetea​​ @bookcrazybby​​ @ritual-unions-gotme​​ @isthat-tyra98​  @whenimaunicorn​ @blackmissfrizzle​ @supernaturalvikingwhore​ @youwishiwasyobabymama​ @ceridwenofwales​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​ @artemiseamoon​ @iammrsrogers​  @peonylie @gearhead66​ 

[dukeofonions]

“Because I was one of them.”

“Oh, okay cool.”

Or alternatively: Why Virgil’s confession has lost it’s impact.

Exploring the Dark Sides (Part One)

Something I realized the other day is that a lot of my current issues with this series wouldn’t exist if there was a consistent uploading schedule. 

You see when there’s a steady stream of new content flowing I’m more inclined to just go with the flow and not spend so much time looking back analyzing things I’ve already floated past because why should I when there’s so much new stuff ahead? 

But say that stream suddenly comes to an abrupt stop and I’m left sitting with nowhere else to go. At that point I start looking back, noticing little things that I hadn’t noticed during my initial trip down this metaphorical river. I now notice all the jagged rocks, how shallow the water actually is, etc. 

And while this doesn’t necessarily ruin my experience over all, I’m left scratching my head wondering whose idea it was to come to this place anyway. Sure it’s not the worst place to go floating, but surely there’s a better place with deeper water and less hazards. Just an easier way to float along where one doesn’t have to worry about the stream suddenly ending. 

I don’t know where this metaphor came from but to sum it up: since there are such long waits (years now) between actual Sanders Sides episodes and there’s a lack of new content to take in, I’m left looking back over what we have now and during my little look backs I’ve begun to notice some things that cause issues with the latest additions to the series. 

Some of the more interesting things I’ve noticed revolve around the three resident “Dark Sides” and how they’re written in the series. While a lot of it is really good and I think they’ve got some of the best moments in the series, there’s also a lot of little things that pop up that, when looking at the series as a whole, don’t make a lot of sense. 

Which is why I’ve begun this little series where I do a little deep dive into some of these things I’ve noticed and break them down to see if I can try and make sense of it, and this post is going to focus on Virgil.

More specifically, Virgil’s confession to being a former “Dark Side” and how it’s kinda lost it’s thunder.

As per usual, this is all my own opinion and you’re free to agree or disagree as you see fit. Of course I get pretty salty but I try to avoid getting too negative because where’s the fun in that? 

Anywho, on with the show! 

I’ll admit, despite my problems with the concept of “Dark Sides” as a whole, I genuinely loved the subplot of Virgil hiding that he used to be one of them from Thomas.

From a story telling standpoint they do a good job with the foreshadowing, leaving plenty of clues for the audience to find and it all pays off at the end. It’s also unclear at first whether Roman, Logan, and Patton know (Spoiler alert they do) and there’s some close calls via Janus and Remus dropping hints in front of Thomas which cause Virgil to freak out and adds some tension to the series. 

It also provides a bit of a mystery around Virgil, Janus, and Remus as while it’s clear that the three have some kind of history together we’re never told or shown explicitly how their relationship was. Of course, we’re given plenty of hints, but we have yet to know what life was like when Virgil was “one of them” and it gives the audience more to look forward to and theorize about. 

And of course, the actual reveal itself is amazing. The acting, the music, the complete silence after Virgil confesses and him looking like he’s about to cry as he sinks out is just *cheff’s kiss* perfect.

So what exactly is the problem here? 

The foreshadowing? There’s just enough to get people theorizing but still plenty of room for people to speculate without spelling everything out. 

The reveal? What can I say, I don’t have any complaints here. It’s definitely one of my favorite scenes from the series and I can’t find a single thing wrong with it from a technical stand point.

But as mentioned before, I started thinking about it more, and after taking everything we know about Virgil and "the dark sides" into account, this question suddenly came to mind:

Why is Thomas so shocked by this?

Think about it, when Virgil first appeared he was a little bitch. He was kind of the first antagonist of the series. Not evil per say, but compared to the other Sides he was a little shit who enjoyed bringing Thomas down. He was very much what one might consider a "dark side."

He wasn't ever trying to act like a "good guy" in order to earn Thomas's trust or anything, he was very open about what his role was and how it’s just who he is. So really, Thomas's reaction should have been something along the lines of, "Oh, okay. Makes sense."

Of course, we do see Virgil change over time and we learn that he isn't as bad as he seems (even though that seems questionable now) but that should have made his "past" even more obvious.

Like, Thomas, the guy had a whole acceptance arc because he was a bitch and no one liked him. You were literally there throughout his entire journey, it shouldn't surprise you that he was once part of a group you consider to be "evil."

Well okay, maybe Virgil just wanted to be honest regardless of whether or not the "dark sides" are actually evil or not. Who knows? Maybe he chose to confess when he did because he saw how horribly Remus had been affecting Thomas and seeing as he felt as though he'd failed to protect Thomas from Remus and Janus, figured he might as well try to protect Thomas from himself as well.

Which, okay, if that were the case then that could explain Thomas's reaction. He'd just met Remus, saw him at what could he his worst (we've only had one actual episode with Remus so who knows how bad he can get?) and while he learned that he's actually pretty easy to deal with and isn't as scary as he thought, who's to say the reverse couldn't happen with Virgil?

He saw that he wasn't as bad as he thought, but when you look at how nasty Virgil's been lately, who's to say that couldn't happen? It's been said that Virgil, as Thomas's anxiety, is manageable and isn't as bad as others. But we've literally seen Thomas say that he's afraid of what Virgil could do and so he just kind of has to let him do his thing in order to avoid all the "bad stuff" he could do.

According to Thomas: "There's a lot that Virgil could do that I don't want him to do. He knows exactly how to push my buttons. But he is who he is. All we can do is try to listen to him as best as we can and adapt to his needs."

(For anyone who wants to watch the clip here's the time stamp Embarrassing Phases 20:31)

Uh, yeah, that sounds super healthy there. But I'll get into my issues with that little message in another post.

Just before this though, Roman had asked Thomas if "He's (Virgil) going back to being scary can I go back to calling him names?"

Thomas responds by telling him as he's leaving that he still has to be nice to him, before Logan expresses that he's glad (or relieved) that Virgil didn't go into Thomas's "girl phase" which just hearing it being mentioned seems to stress Thomas out. Then finally after Logan leaves Patton explains that while he's trying to respect Virgil's wants and still be a good friend, he feels like he just makes things worse which is where Thomas attempts to reassure him.

Except his advice is to just, let Virgil do what he wants so he doesn't hurt them? And while he says they need to work with Virgil it doesn't seem like he's requiring Virgil to work with him as well in order to not make his life miserable?

Hm, is it possible that my answer as to why Thomas reacts so strongly to Virgil being "one of them" lies within my least favorite episode in the series?

Perhaps Thomas was already starting to be afraid of Virgil before the whole confession in DWIT, and has gotten to a point where he's forcing himself (shown by him telling the others to keep "being nice to Virgil" despite how he treats them) to just take whatever Virgil throws at him in order to spare himself from whatever worse things Virgil could do to him?

That, added with everything that happens in Dealing With Intrusive Thoughts, where Thomas witnesses a Side of himself that appears to be worse than Virgil, could have set him on edge. And if Remus, who he considers a dark side, who he openly admits to hating and is so afraid of him that he loses sleep, then just how bad could Virgil be if he was ever at his worst?

With all that in mind, yeah. It does make sense why Thomas would react the way he did and why he'd be cautious of trusting Virgil in the future.

Except, none of this has actually been confirmed within the series and is purely speculation and since we still don't have the season two finale, we really have no idea what Thomas actually feels towards the situation since he kinda brushes it off at the end of DWIT by doing the outro.

But wait... we actually do know how Thomas feels. In fact, we already know how the issue is resolved!

Looks like it's time for-

How Asides Ruins Everything!

You all remember when Asides was first announced, right? These were meant to be shorter, lighter videos that took place outside of the current series and were meant to give us content in between the long breaks for regular Sanders Sides episodes that also wouldn't get in the way of filming said episodes.

Well we all know how that little idea turned out seeing as it's now been a year since Putting Others First and they decided that we needed to have two Asides episodes before the finale that were apparently essential to the "plot" even though the current plot in Sanders Sides has nothing to do with Thomas getting a boyfriend but I digress.

But you know, I wouldn't be as upset about the Asides causing us having to wait longer for the actual story to pick up again, if the Asides episodes didn't ruin the actual series!

How did it manage this? Well, let's just look at Virgil here and the entire point of this post which is, as the title states, why his confession has lost its impact.

And the answer? Well, at some point the writer's decided that the best way to resolve the new conflict between Thomas and Virgil was to have them indirectly make amends by using some random character that is clearly just a stand in for Virgil and use this character's "confession of a past they weren't proud of" as a way to discuss the situation and Thomas's feelings on the matter just to have Thomas indirectly assure Virgil that they're still "okay" and it doesn't bother him.

So according to Asides, Thomas is just fine with Virgil despite his confession. And as we see in the following Asides episode, they're still cool with each other!

So what was the point of that dramatic confession, which was being built up towards throughout pretty much all of season two, just to have the characters indirectly discuss it and make amends like it was nothing???

Why should the audience care when it all just gets brushed aside (ha) like it's no big deal?

Everything was in place for Virgil's reveal before the Asides came into the picture. You had the build up, you had the pay off, there was the suspense when Virgil was completely absent from POF, and then you would have had him confronting Thomas and the two having to directly come to terms with this new information.

But nope! Let's just have them sit awkwardly by each other on the couch while they watch Frozen in onesies while everyone keeps talking about some random character whom the audience has never heard of before that we're supposed to figure out is meant to represent Virgil and Thomas is all "Nah we're still cool bro."

What's supposed to happen now? Janus is supposedly a "good guy" now so why would he bring up Virgil's past to get under his skin? And if he still does why would it bother Thomas since he's already come to terms with it?

Look, even though I've got my problems with the concept of "dark sides" as a whole, it wouldn't have mattered to me if they'd at least committed to telling a good story here with Virgil's past because I was genuinely interested in that.

I freaked out when he told Thomas, and initially I thought we weren't going to see those two interact again until the finale where Virgil would finally have to face Thomas and we'd get to watch how he comes to terms with it. And if Asides hadn't been a thing and we had gone straight from DWIT to POF it looks like this was the direction they were headed.

But instead we're basically told (not shown) by Thomas that he's fine with Virgil. And the reason as to why Virgil's not in POF despite being on good terms with Thomas?

"There was just no reason for him to be there."

Really? There was no reason for Virgil, who was directly part of the discussion that led to POF in the first place, to be present during the aftermath of the decision they all had helped Thomas make?

There was more reason for him to be there than Logan and he still showed up! They had the perfect explanation set up for them in DWIT: Virgil had just revealed his past to Thomas and due to being afraid of how he'd respond (or just wanting to give Thomas space and not stress him out more) chose to remain absent from the conversation.

That actually makes sense and lines up with the story but nope.

The "Dark Sides" and Virgil's past with them was one of my favorite things about the series. The mystery surrounding it all and Virgil trying to protect Thomas from them while keeping his own history with them a secret was a brilliant concept thats just kinda fallen flat on its face.

The long waits between episodes don't help, and how they're rushing through certain aspects within the series itself along with Asides coming in and muddling things up, I don't really care to be invested anymore.

Why should I when there's a chance anything interesting they come up with will just be glossed over like it's no big deal?

It's hard to make a final judgment here in regards to Virgil's current arc when we still have no conclusion in sight. But from what we've seen from Asides, which is now integral to the plot of Sanders Sides, we kinda already have our answer.

Thomas and Virgil are just fine with each other. We learned that Flirting With Social Anxiety takes place right after POF and that Virgil already knows about Janus getting on Thomas's good side so there's no suspension with him finding out about that either.

All that's really left with him is his troubling relationship with Patton but I don't even care about that anymore. They've hardly addressed it at all and given what we've been seeing I doubt the conclusion to their strained relationship won't be satisfying either.

I don't know what the finale, or the rest of the series, will hold concerning Virgil. While I hope that things will turn around and get better, at this current rate it doesn't seem likely.

Episodes are still taking years to make, and the ones we're getting are just distracting from the main plot or taking things away.

Virgil isn't the only character suffering from this, but at least he's not as worse off as others.

Which is why in the next installment of this series, we'll be taking a look at a little, yellow snake and how one of the characters with the most potential ended up being the most underwhelming parts of the series.

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Happiness Continues

Prologue

Summary: Jensen and Y/n take the plunge into their forever.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 5.3K+

Warnings: Language, 

Author’s Note: Well, without further adieu, here she is! I’ve been so nervous to post this series because I wanted to make sure it lives up to all your expectations. Your feedback is gold, so please let me know what you think! xoxo Alex (Bold texts are Jensen, italicized are reader)

Catch up with the series masterlist and then check out Alexandra’s Library for more by yours truly!

The sunlight from the grand windows on the west wall of the hall was quickly being replaced by the soft glow of the lights above and the candles flickering on the table. Indistinct chatter filled the small space that the couple had reserved for their rehearsal dinner. The group’s bellies were full and the drinks were still flowing. 

“You’re looking a bit tired there,” Jensen’s hand landed on his fiancée’s thigh, squeezing gently to get her to look at him. 

“Mmm, I am, but I’m not ready to go,” she hummed, her eyes heavy with the events of the day. 

“Why’s that?” 

“It’s gonna be weird, you know, sleeping away from you. I just got used to you being home lately,” the woman shrugged, placing her hand on top of his. She traced a pattern with her finger over his knuckles, her gaze concentrated on her task. Their friends and family continued to chat excitedly around them as the two slipped away into their own world without ever leaving the table. 

“I know. I’m not used to having a whole bed to myself, or someone not stealing my covers in the night,” Y/n gasped low, looking up at Jensen to find him smirking at her, her favorite dimples on display on the corners of his lips. The woman scowled at him and his ability to be so freaking cute as a grown man. 

“You know,” a mischievous smile grew on her face as she turned his hand over and linked their fingers together. “We aren’t married yet, there is absolutely nothing stopping me from, I don’t know, just not showing up tomorrow.” 

Jensen hummed, “Happy wife, happy life.” receiving the exact reaction out his fiancée that he had hoped for; a sharp smack to his shoulder. 

“Ugh, you know how much I hate that saying.” Jensen couldn’t help but laugh at the way she rolled her eyes. His fiancée joined in on the laughter, only for it to be broken by a wide yawn. 

“Alright, that’s enough for you, honey. You need to sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” Y/n frowned at his declaration but she knew there was no use in fighting him. She wasn’t lying when she said it would be weird to not have him in bed with her tonight. Her one hope was exhausting her body to the point of passing out the minute her head hit the pillow. So far, it was working, seeing as she wasn’t even sure that she could stand from her chair and make it up to her room. 

Y/n blinked slowly as Jensen stood from his chair, reaching out to help her to her feet. “Alright, I think it’s time I put this one to bed if I want her to get out of up tomorrow.” 

“Ah, such a kidder,” Y/n mocked as the crowd laughed and bid the couple goodnight. Jensen slipped his arm around her shoulders, bringing her close to his side as he took her to the elevator. The entrepreneur leaned into him as they rode up to her floor, her eyes fluttering closed as she basked in his scent while she still could. The steady drum of his heart lulled her into a place she so desperately wanted to be, but the shudder of the cart had her eyes flashing open too soon. 

“Alright, here we go,” Y/n handed over her keycard to Jensen and he pushed open the door. He let go of his grip on her and urged her in. 

“You coming in?” She turned once through the threshold, looking back at him still in the hall. 

“Nice try,” He smiled, the action softening his features. “One night, babe. We can make it through, then it’s you and me forever.” 

Her tongue rolled out over her lips as she leaned against the door. “Aw, that was an adorable thing to say, you know that?” 

“As long as you don’t tell Jared, then we are safe.” 

“Ahhh, I’ve heard the things he’s said to Gen so he really has no place to talk,” Y/n quirked an eyebrow, eliciting a similar response from the man standing outside her door. 

“Wait—”

“Goodnight Ackles,” her voice trailed off in a soft melody as she closed the door, his muttered ‘son of a bitch’ the last thing she heard before he was gone. 

She made quick work of her nightly routine before settling into the plush comforter of her hotel bed. Her body sank into the cool sheets, the exhaustion winning over her body easily. 

The only thing was it didn’t last for her. Y/n soon found herself tossing and turning under the plush covers. The bed was too large by herself, and every time her hand landed on an empty bed instead of her fiancé, she was jolted awake. She let out a huff as she stared up at the dark ceiling. A small sliver of light appeared suddenly and she turned over to grab her phone.

Hey baby, I hope you aren’t awake like I am, but I just wanted to tell you that I love you and I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow. 

Y/n smiled at the screen. Even after being together for almost two years, she kept finding more and more ways they were alike. What were the odds that both of them were lying awake in the middle of the night thinking of each other at the same time? 

You’re out of luck. This bed is too big without you.

She shot him back a quick text before locking her phone and holding it against her chest. His reply took no time at all. 

I know how you feel, believe me. Get some sleep, I’ll see you at the altar. 

Y/n had to chuckle to herself.

The only thing coming to my mind now is stupidly cheesy, but I’m gonna say it anyway. I’ll be the one in white. 

Hahaha, you’re right, that is cheesy. But I still love you.

You better.

Y/n put her phone back on the bedside table. Somehow, just talking to him and knowing he was up too made her feel better about sleeping alone. Maybe she should feel bad about smiling at him tossing and turning along without her, but right now she couldn’t care less because all it did was show her that she was making the right choice. 

Y/n was out again within minutes.

****

When they say your wedding day goes by in a flash, they truly aren’t kidding. Y/n woke up more refreshed than she expected when her alarm went off in the morning. She was also far less anxious than she expected as she went about her usual morning routine. Coffee and yogurt were sent up to her room with a note from Jensen telling her he knew she would forget to eat unless he got her something, which had made her chuckle because he was right. 

Her mother was there to pick her up and take her to the venue at noon. The older woman was quiet on the relatively short drive to the manor just outside Austin. Y/n knew it was only a matter of time until her mother was sobbing, so she was thankful for this time to relax and enjoy the sunshine. 

When they finally arrived at The Grand Lady, there were few cars in the parking lot, most of them belong to her bridal party. The guys lucked out with being able to go out for lunch seeing as they didn’t need hours in a hair and makeup chair, a fact which she and Jensen disagreed on. She had insisted that she could do her own makeup and save some money, but he would not hear of her quote, working, unquote on her wedding day, so she went along with him and hired people to make her shine.

Genevieve, Mackenzie, and her high school friends Stella, Delilah, and Grace were already in the bridal suite when Y/n and her mother arrived. The champagne bottle from the mimosa bar was popped before she even had a chance to set her bag down. The young entrepreneur had to remind herself to take the drinks slowly, seeing as she was getting married later that evening, not that her bridesmaids held that same regard. 

Before she knew it, it was nearing time to get into her dress. The photographer had already taken it from the bag earlier to photograph. Y/n stood staring up at the delicate material that glinted in the sunlight coming in the window. This was truly it. It was her wedding day, the day that she had given up on seeing a long time ago. If she thought about it too much, she was sure to ruin all the work that her crew had done on her face. 

“Y/n/n,” Gen called her from across the room. Y/n spun back to look at the ladies enjoying themselves. “I’ve been tasked with handing over something special to the bride.” 

Cheers came from the other women in the room, all eager to find out what exactly Jensen had decided to gift her with. Y/n watched as Gen pulled a decent-sized package out of the closet. It was wrapped in shining silver wrapping paper with a white bow wrapped around it. Her curiosity was piqued, seeing as the pair had not discussed a gift exchange, not that it had stopped her from purchasing a bespoke watch from a little shop in Detroit and having a message stitched into the leather strap. It was an easy choice seeing as her soon-to-be husband was obsessed with watches. The hard part was finding one he didn’t already own.

“This thing is huge,” she noted before quickly adding, “No one comment.” 

All the girls stifled their laughs, watching her as she tore into the paper without care. She tossed the paper to the side, taking in the black and white sound waves embossed on the white background. There was black script in the lower-left corner that read ‘in a world we could call our own’. 

“What’s the song?” Y/n didn’t recognize the lyric, but that didn’t mean that she hadn’t heard the song before. 

“On the back,” Stella called from her seat across the room. Y/n flipped the frame over in her hands, noticing the small square taped to the back. Setting the frame on the chair next to her, she broke the seal on the paper envelope. Inside was a simple CD, but on the front was a short message in Jensen’s familiar script that read ‘and it all came down to you, can’t wait to see you at the altar - Jensen.’

“But I don’t—” Her words were hushed as Gen handed over a portable CD player with headphones attached. Y/n turned the gray plastic over in her hand, knowing it had to be Jensen’s idea for her to listen to the disk in this way. Frankly, she was shocked that he didn’t find a way to put in on an eight-track and have Gen hand over a Walkman. 

Y/n placed the disk in the player and put the headphones on before pressing play. The soft melody caught her attention immediately, her head bobbing gently along until Jensen’s voice filled her ears. 

Listened to yesterday

Long before the way it has become

And it all came down to you

I don't really know the way

Played out stranger than it seemed

But what went down came true

Like an all day dream

It seemed saving her makeup was now just a pipe dream. She could feel the tears spilling out of the corners of her eyes. Gen was quick to bring her a tissue and Y/n tried her best to blot up the wetness without ruining everything. 

Everybody was looking at her as the song came to an end and she pulled the headphones off her head. “He uh, he wrote me a song,”  Y/n explained to her waiting friends. The room fell into collective awe. 

“Okay, okay! Enough with my cheesy brother. You need to get in your dress like now and fix your makeup.” Mackenzie was laughing as she spoke, but Y/n caught the hint of water in her eyes as well. She was right, her brother was more than cheesy. It was something that she used to turn her nose up at, but somehow, he found a way to make it work that never seemed to fail. 

“Right,” Y/n agreed, standing up from her seat and heading behind the partition to get into her dress. Her mother and Gen helped her into the heavy material and worked up the buttons along her back. She noticed her mother was tearing up again, much as she had on the day Y/n had said ‘yes to the dress.’

“Mom, come on now, Dad is gonna be in here any minute and I can’t have both of you in tears. I’ve already cried enough as it is.” Truth be told, she had been barely keeping it together since she received Jensen’s gift, and her family was not helping. She just had to keep it together until she was at the altar. Just half an hour longer. 

****

Jensen finished fastening the watch around his wrist before turning it over and inspecting it once again. His bride had chosen well. It was unlike any other he had in his collection, but it suited him well, and of course, it matched his suit to a ‘T.’ He double-checked that the hands on the face were where they needed to be, the realization of the time hitting him in the gut. 

“Hey, man. You good?” Jared’s voice broke him from his reverie. He tugged down the sleeves of his suit, fidgeting inside the snug outfit. 

“Uh, I’m not sure how to answer that.” A nervous chuckle forced its way up his throat. Jared nodded at his friend. 

“Been there, buddy.” Jared clapped his large hand on Jensen’s shoulder, squeezing his fingertips into the navy material. “But before I give you wise words of encouragement, I have to do my brotherly duty.” 

“Duty?” Jensen murmured to himself as Jared cleared his throat.

“If you ever hurt my sister again, I will not be as forgiving. You’re here today because I trust you with her life and her heart. Don’t make me regret that.” Jared again squeezed Jensen’s shoulder for emphasis. 

Jensen couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re funny, Jare.” But Jared’s expression had remained unchanged. “Oh, you’re serious… Dude, you’ve already punched me once. Trust me, I get the picture.” 

“Good, now that that’s settled, all you need to do is focus on Y/n. The rest of it will fall into place. You guys are crazy about each other, forget about all the rest.” Jared dropped his grip on his friend and straightened his boutonniere. 

“Thank you. I do love her, more than anything.” The groom smiled to himself as he watched the hands on the clock tick down. 

“Oh, and remember to take a second for just the two of you later. Go and experience things from afar.” 

Jensen nodded to himself, repeating Jared’s line back to himself. “Just the two of us.” 

“Alright, Jay. Shake it off, it’s time to go see your bride.” 

****

Gen was trying her best to keep Odette occupied as they waited to walk down the aisle. The group of bridesmaids, the bride and her father all were huddled in the corner of the wrap-around porch, waiting for the music to begin playing. 

Y/n had one arm already wrapped around her father’s, her bouquet in the other. Her lower lip was worried in her teeth as the music started from the band behind the altar. A jolt beside her had her snapping her head up to see her father smiling down at her. 

“How are you doing over there?” He asked as her bridesmaids began to disappear one by one. 

“I’ll be okay. Deep breaths, right?” 

“Deep breaths. Come on, someone is waiting for you.” Her dad tightened his grip on her as they began moving. The old wood of the manor creaked as they made their way across it and down the steps. Y/n refused to look up until her feet were on the fabric aisle put together by the wedding planners. When she did finally look up, her eyes cast over her friends and family standing to watch her, looking for the one pair of green eyes that could ground her. 

Jensen had to bite his tongue when his bride came around the corner, the lace she adorned more elegant than he had expected. Her hair fell in waves down her back and the light veil covered her face just enough to hide her blush from him, but it was when she looked up and lock eyes with him that everything else fell away. It was just like Jared had said, all that mattered at that moment was her and Jensen. Like that night back in Vancouver, when she smiled at him from her place in her father’s arms, his heart skipped a beat. It was that smile that did him in still to this day. 

Y/n watched as Jensen’s face broke out into the widest grin she’d ever seen. He clasped his hands together as he lost himself in her. His reaction had her feeling more light than she had ever felt. This was the moment people talk about twenty years down the road when they recount their wedding day. That ‘first look’ feeling was one she was going to remember for the rest of her life. 

“Gerald,” Jensen held out his hand to Y/n’s father, shaking it with a smile before Gerald turned back to his daughter and handed her over to her groom, but not before stealing a kiss to her cheek. 

Jensen slipped her arm under his and pulled her close to his side. “Wow, Y/n. Just… wow,” he whispered to her as their officiant began the ceremony. 

“You’re one to talk, handsome. That blue suit is killer,” she husked, faking a whistle below her breath. She paused for a second to glare at Jared clearing his throat when the crowd was asked if anyone objected to their marriage. She couldn’t be too mad at him though, considering the chuckles he got from the crowd. Jared was just being Jared. 

“So, in their decision to make my life a little easier, Jensen and Y/n have decided to write their own vows, which they will share with you now.” Their officiant waved her hand to them, the couple turning to now face each other. Y/n handed her bouquet off to her matron of honor, Gen, who exchanged it for her written vows, before turning back and taking Jensen’s free hand in her own. 

“Y/n, I don’t know if it’s stupid or cliche to start off with this, but I love you. I do, I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love another human being. I had all but given up on my chance to find someone and have a family, and then you came crashing into my life. It all came down to you, my all-day dream come true.”

“Y/n/n, you are a strong, beautiful, and bullheaded woman. You frustrate me, you challenge me and you make me a better man. I promise to love you forever, to carry you through the bad times and laugh with you in the good times. I promise to keep you safe in my arms no matter what life throws our way and to cherish every moment we have together. I promise forever.”

Jensen shoved his vows into his pocket as he finished, his green eyes sparkling in the sunlight as he smiled down at her. For a moment, she let herself get lost in them until their officiant cleared her throat. The crowd chuckled as Y/n mumbled to herself to get a grip. 

“I struggled a lot to put my feelings down into words. This damned piece of paper stared at me for weeks just mocking my brain for its lack of focus. But I soon realized it wasn’t because I couldn’t find the words, it was because there are no words. Jay, you are indescribable. You are everything I didn’t know that I needed before I met you. You always know how to make me laugh, what words to say when I don’t feel beautiful, and how to pick me up from the ground when I’ve fallen to my knees.” 

“I vow to you to always be there when you need to speak and to share the silence when words aren’t needed. I vow to make sure you always smile from all my smart ass comments and to make sure you know how handsome you are. Most importantly, I vow to love you more and more with every passing day.” 

Y/n was barely keeping it together as the two of them exchanged their rings and ‘I do’s’. She had fully expected the tears to be present ever since the pair had discussed writing their vows, but she never expected him to literally take her heart in his hands and squeeze it. Her heart had never been so full than at this moment.

“I think that about does it then, eh? By the power invested in me by the state of Texas and in front of God and all your loved ones, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Jensen,” The crowd laughed as their officiant tilted her head towards Y/n, raising her brow. The couple joined in as Jensen lifted her veil over her head and pulled her to his chest, her hands snaking around his waist and her fingers clutching onto his jacket. Their lips met in the middle, a grin on both their faces. After everything, they were finally here, right where they both wanted to be: with each other.

“Family and friends, I am delighted to present to you for the first time, as husband and wife, Mr. and Mrs. Jensen Ackles!” 

Jensen pulled away from his wife before pecking her nose one last time. He took her hand in his own as Gen handed her back her bouquet. The pair of them ran back down the aisle as the band played “You Make My Dreams Come True” and their families cheered. As they reached the porch around the manor once again, the event coordinator of the hall guided them back inside to the study where the boys had gotten ready for the ceremony. 

The room was mostly cleared of the groomsmen’s items when they entered. For now, it was their place to have a second alone before they needed to begin taking photographs. Y/n set her bouquet down on one of the tables, her other hand still in Jensen’s. He tugged her into his side again, smiling down at her, his lips turned up on one side. 

“Hi, wife.” 

“Hi, husband,” Y/n parroted his sentiment back to him, a chuckle on her tongue. “Are you gonna be disgustingly cheesy now?”

“It’s my wedding day, I think I’m entitled,” he nodded.

“Hmm, well good. I love it.” 

“I knew it!” Jensen bit his lip as he caressed his fingers along her jaw. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes examining the expanse of her face.

“Jay,” Jensen raised his brow at her, signaling her to continue. “I love you. Thank you for marrying me.”

“I love you too, pretty girl.” He promised, lowering his lips to her own in a quick caress. 

****

It didn’t take long for the photographs to be finished, though it was boring work. Y/n assumed she probably shouldn’t feel that way, but her face was beginning to hurt from smiling so much. In the midst of it all, they’d signed their marriage license, so she guessed that made it all worth it. 

The day was flying by quicker than either of them expected. When people told her to pause and take in everything, she’d thought she’d prepared herself, but before she knew what was happening, they were seated at the sweetheart table across from the stage as Jared took the microphone for their before dinner toasts. 

Feedback reverberated across the makeshift stage and about the yard that was set up for their reception. Jared winced before clearing his throat. 

“Good evening, everybody, I’m Jared for all of you who don’t know. That beautiful woman over there is my baby sister and the handsome troll sitting next to her just happens to be my best friend, my brother from another mother. The two of them have come a long way since their first meeting, a day not unlike today. When Gen and I got hitched, I think they exchanged a total of five words that day. They were ships passing in the night then. It wasn’t until Y/n/n came to work with us on set that a series of events was set in motion that none of us expected. I won’t lie and say I was too happy when I first found out about their relationship, sorry Jensen,” Jared paused as the room chuckled, though outside of their immediate families, no one knew what he was talking about. “I know it took me a while to come around to the idea, but now that I’ve been able to watch the two of you grow together, and laugh together, and love each other, I realize I was being selfish. Y/n, there is no other man that I would trust more with your life and with your heart. I know that he’s always gonna be there to treat you right and pick you up when you’re down. I know this because I will find him if he doesn’t.” Jared waved off more laughs before continuing. “Alright, but in all honesty, I couldn’t be happier for the two of you and I can’t wait to watch you grow old together. I love you guys. To the Ackles!” 

Jared held up the champagne flute into the air before the room took a drink. Gen followed Jared as matron of honor and Josh brought up the rear as best man. All three of them were skilled at pulling out laughs and tears. Dinner was served just after and once the plates were finally cleared, the sun was nearly fully set below the horizon. 

The manor worked on bringing out the dessert table, a wide array of miniature pies, snickerdoodles, banana bread, pumpkin and sugar donuts, scones, a coffee bar, and lastly the wedding favors for their guests, a build-your-own candy apple bar. It was the perfect fall scene for their mid-November wedding. 

Y/n and Jensen made their way through the crowd, hugging family and friends and thanking them for joining them on their special day. A good crowd had formed on the dance floor, and it seemed that everyone was enjoying themselves. 

Miriam, Y/n’s great aunt on her father’s side, had pulled her into a long-winded conversation at her table. Y/n was perched in a seat across from her aunt, trying to stay invested in the conversation. To be honest, the bride wasn’t even sure what she was talking about anymore.

“Hey, Miriam.” Jensen’s voice broke her out of the little trance she had slipped into. He had a wide smile on his face as he knelt beside her aunt. “I know you ladies are having girl talk, but I was wondering if I could steal my wife for a minute?” 

“Oh!” Miriam exclaimed, a delighted smile on her face. Y/n watched, a grin on her face as she watched her husband charm her away from that table. “Of course! Silly me. She’s yours now, to do anything with you please.”

“Okay, Aunt Miriam,” Y/n stood and went to kiss her aunt on the cheek. Jensen took her hand and began to guide her away.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Her aunt’s exclamation had a blush creeping up on her neck, and Y/n had to cover her eyes with her hand. The whole time Jensen was just laughing beside her. 

Y/n was distracted by the small cheers from the people who heard her aunt that she didn’t notice her husband sneak a champagne bottle and a glass from a waiter on their way up to the house. She simply let him guide her up on the porch and over to a dimly lit corner that gave them a view of the entirety of their reception. 

“What are we doing?” She asked him as he handed her the flute. 

“We are taking a minute to ourselves, just to step back and soak up all that’s happened today,” Jensen explained as he filled the glass. 

“Ah,” Y/n let out a breath as she took a sip from the glass. She handed it over to her husband who copied her action. “Isn’t that what our first dance was for?” 

“Eh, everyone had their eyes on us then. This way, it’s just the two of us. We get to be on the outside looking in.” Jensen moved behind her, snaking his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. His wife leaned into his embrace, enjoying the heat from his body as the night began to cool. 

The couple shared half a bottle of champagne as they watched their guests enjoy themselves. Most of the crowd was huddled on the dance floor, shaking away their worries for the time being. Those that were left were smuggling treats from the dessert table. 

It was an intriguing glimpse at a wedding from someone else’s perspective, and the couple was more than happy to just watch their loved ones enjoy themselves. After all, that’s what all a wedding was, a party, and people were supposed to have fun at parties; get rowdy and maybe a little drunk. The kids were carefree, shaking their butts to the melody that helped facilitate all the fun. 

Jensen glanced down at his watch to check the time before kissing the underside of her jaw. “We have to go get changed now,” he whispered to her. Y/n hummed in response, both of them not wanting to break the bubble that they had put themselves in on the porch, but alas, they had a plane to catch, and therefore needed to get out of their nice clothes.

The honeymoon suite that came with the rental of the manor was going to be used by Jared and Gen that night. Y/n and Jensen planned to leave her dress and his suit for them to take home. It worked best for them that they whisked away on their honeymoon right away. Overnight flights to Europe worked best when it came to kicking jet lag in the ass. 

So that was what they did. Jensen changed into jeans and a white tee and Y/n into leggings and a white tee. Out of all the stupid couple things people did on their wedding day, Y/n had opted for matching ‘going away’ outfits. 

The couple triple checked that they had everything they needed as Jared found his way to them. He helped Jensen pack the car with their belongings and before they knew it, they were being seen off by their loved ones, a whirlwind of sparklers lighting their path to the car. The couple hugged their parents goodbye before slipping into the black sedan.

As the car whizzed down the dirt path towards the airport, the crowd that was left meandered back to where the bartender was calling ‘last call.’ On the outskirts of the property, a figure stepped back into the tree line, the shadows hiding the stranger from view. The man dropped the butt of his cigarette into the pile building on the ground, crushing it into the leaves of the forest with the toe of his shoe before disappearing into the night. 

Part 1: The Conception

Forevers: @polina-93 @22sarah08 @callmekda @hobby27 @tranquility-or-chaos @dawnie1988 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sleepylunarwolf @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan  @akshi8278 @superfanficnatural @malfoysqueen14 @deanwanddamons @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @talesmaniac89 @winchest09 @katehuntington @flamencodiva @janicho88 @anathewierdo @ellewritesfix05 @mrsjenniferwinchester @jensengirl83 @lyarr24 @smol-and-grumpy

Continues: @traceyaudette @death-unbecomes-you @rebelemilu @colbyskoalas @ashleyrose0117 @zpandaqueen @stoneyggirl @parinarain @onethirstyunicorn @smoothdogsgirl @harryhook-lover @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @spnfamily-j2 

My Forever tags as well as for this series are open. Just shoot me an ask to be added. If your url is crossed out, tumblr would not let me tag you

[fallatyourfeet]

A Northern Light - Part 36

Summary: A multi-chapter Got x Reader series.

Jon arrives at Eastwatch to venture beyond the wall, in search of a wight in hopes it will create a temporary truce between the rulers of Westeros. Will (YN) arrive in time to accompany him in his dangerous mission? 

Series Warning: The series will roughly follow the TV storyline, so it’s not always going to be smooth sailing for the reader. Series Pairings: Robb Stark x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to post and sorry it’s so long. I was going to split it in 2, but it would have ruined the flow. I cut words, added word, cut some more. Hopefully, it’s worth it.

Word count: 6670 (I know... I’m sorry)

Warnings: Swearing, angst, battle scenes, death.

You can find the series masterlist of ‘A Northern Light’ linked to the masterlist in my bio.

Please feel free to drop me a message, comment or ask, your feedback would be very much appreciated.

There it was. Eastwatch. Finally. Within sight of the Nights Watch castle, (YN)’s eyes searched across the Bay of Seals, her stiff shoulders loosening, relieved to find not a single Targaryen ship docked in the icy water. Reaching down, she ran her hand along the Pip’s mane, her voice full of affection, “Where almost there, and I think you got me here just in time.” Scratching behind his ear, Pip shook his head, loving every second of it, “Why did I even contemplate not bringing you along, you’ve never failed me before, have you ‘Old Boy?’” The old horse nickered as if he was pleased with himself, and (YN) couldn’t help but smile.

Breathing in, she could smell the salt on the freezing afternoon winds, taste it on her tongue, grateful she had made it there before Jon, grateful she had made it before darkness engulfed what would soon be another moonless night, making any travel impossible until the weak light of dawn. It had been a race against time, from the moment Jon’s message arrived at Winterfell. Dragonstone may have been double the distance to Eastwatch, but he had a ship, all she had was ‘Old Pip’ and a prayer. Praying to the gods, that the weather would be kind to her and her travels would go without a hitch. And for the most part, besides the pitch black nights, it had.

Angus had been dead against her going, especially alone, insisting that if she must go, then he must accompany her. (YN) tried using his reluctance to leave Sansa alone with Lord Baelish against him, knowing very well that his horse riding would slow her down, but he came back with an undeniable counter argument. Raising his brows, he laughed a little, “I’ve come to realise that like you, my ‘wife to be’ needs very little protection. And with Arya here, she’s safer than she’d be with Westeros’ best assassin by her side.”

(YN) smiled, because it was true. At first, when Arya returned the two sister’s relationship was strained... strained being a rather generous description. Both of them had changed so much and neither was sure if they could trust the other. Baelish did not help the matter either. He was busy playing the pair against each other, as if he was a some kind of wicked puppet master. Yet (YN) could see right through it, could see him try to include her in his little games too. Nevertheless, after a few tense moments and some wise insight from her, the two sisters sorted themselves out. And if Little Finger didn’t sort himself out and leave, the two sisters would sort him out themselves. With the skills Arya brought home, fighting skills so adept and brutal, anyone wishing to cause her family harm, must surely have a death wish.

All the same, (YN) knew her brother was torn. As much as he wanted to stay with Sansa, to keep her safe and simply be by her side, she could see his embedded need to protect his only sister. Resting a hand against his arm, she answered with soft amusement, “I think Arya could be the best assassin in all of Westeros.” Giving his elbow a gentle squeeze she added, with sincerity, “But it doesn’t stop you from wanting to protect either one of us... does it?” That was the moment she decided to slip out the Winterfell gates in the middle of the night and save him the anguish of deciding. Besides, she would get much further a lot faster without him. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she wanted to protect him too. He didn’t need to go in search of the army of the dead, because before long the army of the dead would bring themselves to him... to everyone, and the very thought made her shudder.

No doubt, Angus would have woken up furious, though probably not very surprised. Of course his hard headed sister chose to steal away in the middle of the night. Not wanting to put anyone in danger, or have them slow her down. Realising, that riding off after her would be a complete waste of time, come day light she would be long gone and impossible to find.

Then of course, there was Bran. He returned to Winterfell a young man, nothing like the boy she remembered. He spoke different, thought different, is eyes were different... calling himself the Three Eyed Raven. And he was almost as unsettling as the red woman. The afternoon before she left, he paid her a visit, wishing her safe travels through the night, somehow knowing her plans to slip away under the cover darkness. Yet, it was what he said as he wheeled himself from the room that really set her stomach on edge, “There is something I must tell you... something you will be ready to hear when you return...” But as Pip came to a stop before the gates of Eastwatch, it was all far from her thoughts. Yes, there had been no Targaryen ships docked in the water, but she would not feel any real relief until someone inside those walls confirmed that Jon was yet to arrive.

The confirmation (YN) needed came quickly. No sooner had the gates closed behind her did she hear the exuberant voice of Tormund. Realising Jon was unlikely to send a message to him about his plans to come and collect a wight, she decided that she would. Releasing a raven just before she left, she hoped there was someone there who could read it to him and thankfully, it seemed there was, not being at all surprised to see her. Reaching her with a grin that engulfed his face, he picked her up in his arms, squeezing her tight as he spun around, “Ugh... I’ve missed you woman.” Plonking her back to her feet, he added, “How is it that you bet that bloody man of yours... How’d you get here so fuckin’ fast?”

(YN) laughed, “Well, I didn’t have you slowing me down, did I?”

Tormund narrowed his eyes at the playful insult, but a moment later he was laughing. “Ah, your a cheeky one, aren’t ya? Come on, let’s get ya inside and warm you up with some that beautiful goat’s milk I know ya love.”

The passage leading from the Eastwatch cells was narrow and dingy, the cells themselves no better, dark freezing and probably more uncomfortable than any night Sandor had spent sleeping on the hard wet ground. And the last thing he expected to hear at this shitty fucking hole of a place was a woman’s voice travelling from the hallway’s depths, a pleasant and familiar voice he couldn’t quite place. Though did recognise the voice that accompanied her, it was the rough voice of that bloody ginger wildling.

Turning his head towards the doorway, Sandor could see a dim glow of light, watching as it grew brighter with every step he heard against the stone floor of the passage. Before long, the light made it’s way through the entrance, the mad wildling fucker himself carrying a flaming torch in his hand. Momentarily, the woman with the familiar voice trailed in behind him. Jolting in his spot, Sandor was sure his eyes were deceiving him, he had heard the rumours, the impressive stories, but not for one minute did he expect them to be true. It couldn’t possibly be her. He was there... at the Twin Towers, he saw the bloodbath that unfolded. Surely it was the dark shadows and poor light fooling his eyes, it was just a woman who resembled her. But that voice... he remembered that voice... suddenly and clearly as if he was at Winterfell only yesterday.

Sitting up, Sandor strained his eyes for a better look, but he needn't have worried. Taking a step towards the cell, the woman took the torch from the wilding, flashing it across the iron bars to see who sat on the other side, the flames now illuminating her face perfectly. The same pretty face he remembered, maybe a little older and a little less innocent from the cruelties the years had served, yet her eyes remained kind. The same kind eyes that never cowered from his, even now as she spoke, “Lord Clegane..? You’re alive? What are you doing here... and why in the name of the gods, do you want to go beyond the wall?”

Sandor didn’t know why he felt the need to stand, but he did, though his words were as surly as always, “Me..? What the fuck are you doin’ here?” Giving her attire a quick glance over he noticed she was wearing a tunic, not one of her pretty little dresses, wondering how she still managed to look like a proper lady. “When I heard ya escaped the red weddin’ I didn’t believe it... I was there... it was a fuckin’ massacre.” (YN)’s expression dropped, but only a touch, yet Sandor could see the horrors of that night flash silently across her eyes. And it made him feel awkward, denying the strange sense of guilt he felt at reminding her of the night. What was it with these bloody Stark women? First Sansa, then Arya... now this bloody Stark widow, why did he have the inexplicable urge to shelter them?

With a blink of her eyes, the silent flash of horror disappeared, her voice steady as she replied, “Yes, it was... But thank you for getting Arya out before the Frey’s realised she was there.”

Shifting on his feet, Sandor furrowed his brows, “How the hells do ya know that..? She hasn’t been seen since she left me to die at the bottom of a fuckin mountain.”

Holding his gaze she answered, before commenting, “She arrived at Winterfell several weeks ago... and I don’t think she left you to die, she left you there because your name wasn’t on her little list anymore.”

Sandor scoffed, “Little!”

(YN) pursed her lips softly, though she didn’t comment, because something told her that ‘little list’ was considerably smaller after hearing about what happened at The Twins shortly before Arya arrived at Winterfell. Instead, she looked across to the unfamiliar faces in the cell and introduced herself, before asking again, “So why is it that you all want to cross the wall? Nothing good is over there.”

Thoros of Myr, the red priest, gestured towards the third man detained in the cell, introducing him as Lord Beric Dondarrion, before introducing himself. Trying to ignore the pull of R’hllor from the flaming torch within her grip, his head filled with the indistinguishable whispers of his lord of light. Whispers that only grew louder when he stood up to take a step closer. “Mi Lady, we only know we must go. It’s what the lord of light asks.”

(YN)’s back stiffened, though it was barely noticeable, recalling the few short and rather uncomfortable moments she spent with the red woman. Taking a small breath, she took a better look at the man, noticing his faded red vest, “You’re a red priest?”

With a nod of his head, he answered, “Not a very good one... but yes.”

Thoros watched as she studied him a moment, determining whether to trust him or not, leaving him to assume this was not her first running with a red priest, her words serving to confirm his thoughts. “That’s good, because I didn’t really like the other one.”

With a silent laugh, he nodded, wishing the flask on his hip wasn’t bone dry. He needed a few mouthfuls of spirit to ignore the increasing mess of whispers in his head... to ignore urge to stare into the flames held within her very palm. He knew he was an old drunk and a terrible priest, but he knew enough to know that this lovely and seemingly important lady did not want to be bothered by the whispers of a god she knew nothing about. At least not yet, not from him, a man she knew nothing of. So for now, he decided to ignore the persistent and increasing humming in his head, but the empty flask at his side would not make it easy.

Moving her attention to Beric Dondarrion, (YN) spoke just a few words before being interrupted by horns in the distance. Horns that signalled the arrival of yet more idiots to this shit hole of a place, and Sandor almost grunted, “For fucks sake... who else would wanna fuckin come here?”

No one answered. Instead, (YN) almost threw herself towards the small window, peering out over the water, before quickly turning her attention to the ginger wildling, her whole body suddenly alert, “They’re here... Tormund, let these men out, I’ll go meet with Jon.”

The wildling reached for his keys, not even questioning her lead, but Sandor couldn’t help himself, “What? You’re lettin us out?”

(YN) turned to him, “I don’t know why you want to go north, but you may as well come with us... we could do with the help.” Then handing Tormund the torch, she added, before disappearing up the dark passage, “And only the gods know if we’ll come back, so you may as well have a decent meal, a good drink and sleep in a warm bed before we leave.”

All three men stood silent, the echo of her boots and rattle of Tormund’s keys the only sound filling the cell, unsure whether they heard what they heard, Sandor being the one to finally speak, “What... she’s goin over the wall too?”

The heavy iron door creaked loudly as Tormund pushed it open, standing in the entrance as he stared at the hound, his eyes wide and unblinking, his voice almost offended and unmistakeingly annoyed by Sandor’s question, “Aye... and you’ll be fuckin glad to have her there.”

The far north welcomed them back in the only way it could, their small party even smaller after a brutal meeting with a monstrously huge dead polar bear. It’s blue eyes the only thing they could see as it stared them down through the thickest, most unforgiving blizzard they had ever seen. The next moment the eyes were gone, before the giant decaying beast came from nowhere, dragging away one of their men, his terrified screams quickly disappearing into the moving white haze surrounding them. But thankfully the storm had cleared, giving them their sight back, and hopefully a better chance at defending themselves should they stumble across any other blue eyed creatures. But with one man gone and another not far behind, their difficult mission was only getting harder.

Looking across to Thoros laying in the snow, (YN) saw his chest laid bare and bleeding, resembling a mess of red ribbons after his running with the bear. Watching as Sandor diverted his eyes when those ribbons were seared together by the flaming sword of Beric Donarrion. The Hound, such an imposing and intimidating man, monopolized by the sight of flames, a deep seeded fear planted during childhood that left him a frozen mess when the burning giant of a bear ran at him. And now Thoros, the man who came to his aid, was left paying the price. Holding onto Pip’s reins, (YN) turned to Jon, “Those wounds need tending too, he needs to take Pip and head back to Eastwatch or he wont make it through the night.”

Taking a step towards the priest, (YN) was stopped by Jon’s hand around her elbow, “But we need Pip for when we capture a wight... He’ll carry it back to Eastwatch.”

Lifting her arm from his gentle grip, she sighed, “I know... but right now Thoros needs him more... I’m no maester, but I’ve tended to enough wounds to know that much... and there’s nothing I can do for him out here that hasn’t already been done.” Stepping forward, she knelt beside Thoros, a man she barely knew but already liked far more than the one other red servant she had met, “Thoros, you need to take Pip and go back to Eastwatch, someone needs to tend to those wounds.”

Shaking his head in the snow, he replied, struggling to stand up, “No... You need your horse and I need to be here.”

Wrapping an arm around his elbow, she helped him to stand, “No we don’t, we have him... he’s as big as a horse, he can carry the wight.” Gesturing to Sandor with a wave of her hand she heard the surly man grunt, before adding, “Besides, you’re going to be moving too slow to keep up... to fight.”

Soberly, Thoros took a step, his expressing twisting, yet he managed a small smile, “You, mi lady know how to hurt a man’s pride... but your right.”

Reaching his side came Jon and Jorah, both of them helping him up onto Pip, the movement leaving him wincing with pain. Running her hand running along Pip's mane, she said, “He will take good care of you... he’s old, but he’s a gentle and sturdy boy, aren’t you Pip?” Resting her head against the horse’s snout, he nickered, leaning into her contact and she scratched under his chin in response. Truth be told, she was glad he was heading back to Eastwatch. After her crossing with the bear, the thought of him ending up the same way, was too distressing. Looking back up to Thoros, she smiled, “Take care of him for me.”

With a great deal pain, Thoros leaned down toward her. “I will... and you take care. I know you don’t want to hear it, but the lord of light has plans for you... I know that, even if I have no idea what they are.” Wincing as he leaned down a bit further, he continued, “But I think you know that... the red woman knew it too, that’s why you didn’t like her.” Struggling to sit back up, he gave her a small nod goodbye, giving Pip a gentle nudge to get moving, leaving without another word.

The terrain was difficult, almost impossible, like nothing he had ever seen. Jorah had grown up at Bear Island, the cold harsh north, where he saw far more rain wind and snow, than sunshine, but this, this was on a whole other scale. White, as far as the eye could see, the blindness of it only broken by dark unforgiving rocks and mountains, rising from the ground like jagged glass. At their base a vast expanse of water, a lake frozen solid and lifeless, just like everything else in this godsforsaken place. Since the bear, there had been nothing, leading him to wonder if they were wasting their time. Yet, walking in the heavy snow his thoughts were soon caught elsewhere, his eyes settling upon Jon Snow and the lovely woman beside him. At Dragonstone the King in the North had mentioned very little about Lady (YN), and Jorah knew very little about her, other than she was the daughter of Lord Rohan (YLN), a man his father had very much respected. And besides knowing she was the former Queen in the North, he knew nothing else about her. Nevertheless, from the moment he arrived at Eastwatch, two things were clear. People were drawn to her, and Jon Snow adored her.

It was easy to see why. She was charming, yet humble, and at the same time strong capable and very independent. The wildlings at the watch did indeed treat her as their leader, their queen, and that young Gendry boy looked awestruck in her presence. More than willing to share all the impressive and rather fanciful stories he had heard about her in King’s Landing.

The connection between the King in the North and Lady (YN) was as blinding as the surrounding snow, even in the short time he had seen them together that much was indisputable. And if they were to somehow survive this death mission, their union would make two more things clear. Lady (YN) would be Queen in the North once more, and his Khaleesi would be both unnerved and heartbroken by it. However, those troublesome thoughts were soon overthrown by the unnatural sounds coming from a little way down the mountain. Sounds that had both Jon and Tormund crouching low, whispering as they peered over the edge, their whispers soon informing them of a small group of wights and a single white walker passing below.

Racing quietly ahead, they lit a small campfire for them to stumble upon, in hopes they could execute a quick ambush, capture a wight and disappear before the rest of the dead came along. And at first, it all went to plan, but it was none the less disturbing. To strike blow after blow against the decaying flesh of mindless skeletons, only to have them stand back up an come at him again, was like nothing Jorah could have imagined. Yet, to see Lady (YN) skilfully strike them down into countless particles of dust, all with a single strike of her sword, was truly confounding, making him wonder if all those fanciful stories Gendry told were true. Jon had mentioned to him that valerian steel and dragon glass could kill a walker, just as fire worked on a wight, but her sword was made of no such materials. As beautiful as the craftsmanship was, it was cast from ordinary steel one could find in any blacksmith’s forge across the country.

Nevertheless, it was hardly the time to wonder such things when Jorah stood there, his chest deprived of air as a wights bony hand squeezed at his throat, relief only coming when Jon struck the walker, with Jorah’s own ancestral sword, Longclaw. The remaining wights falling in response, their bodies collecting in useless piles of bones, leaving just one lonely wight standing. A little stunned, everyone was unsure what happened, but Tormund didn’t hesitate. Throwing his battle axe to the ground, he threw himself at the wight, knocking it to the ground with a hard fist to it’s jaw, Sandor jumping across it’s body to keep it from getting up. But the surprisingly easy ambush took a sour turn, when the horrid creature screamed out. The sound was inhuman, a screeching piercing sound that travelled... echoed around the valleys and mountains, leaving their whole mission falling apart.

Sandor managed to silence it with a tight hand across it’s mouth, the men busy tying together it’s hands and feet, fastening a leather bag over it’s ugly fleshless skull. But the damage was done, both (YN) and Jon freezing as the same piercing sound echoed back towards them. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of individual screeches returning the captured wight’s call. Snapping his head towards (YN), Jon barely breathed the words, “Sending Thoros back was a bad idea. You could have taken that thing back to Eastwatch and raised an alert.”

(YN) almost glared at him, “If you think I would have left you here, you really don’t know me.”

If it wasn’t so serious, Jon may have chuckled, but a chuckle was the furthest thing from his lips, thinking on his feet he turned to Gendry, giving quick instruction, “Run back to Eastwatch, get a raven to Daenerys, tell her what’s happened.”

Gendry shook his head, ‘I’m not leavin ya.”

Jon answered, his words not up for debate, “You’re the fastest, go, now.”

Without argument, Gendry turned and ran, reluctantly passing his hammer to Tormund at the wildlings request, making him realise the heavy piece would only slow him down. And without a moment to spare they all began running towards the froze lake, Sandor throwing the squirming monster over his shoulder. Reaching the lake they stopped abruptly, when their combined weight had the ice cracking beneath their feet. But their choices where limited. Either drown in the icy waters below or be torn apart by the masses of relentless dead.

Scanning the lake before her, (YN) spotted a rocky island at it’s centre, turning back she saw the onslaught of dead, their flailing bodies and harrowing screams pouring in behind them. Grabbing at Jon’s elbow, she started running, calling for the others to follow, hoping they could make it safely across the ice, yet praying the ice would give way under the weight of the wights. With speed they never knew they had, they managed to keep ahead, hundreds of wights pursuing them into the ice, others running around the banks to surround them.

Barely reaching the rocky island, (YN) watched helplessly as one of their wildling crew fall, his muffled screams quickly cut off as wight after wight threw themselves on top of him. And that was when it happened. In the nightmare came the beautiful sound of cracking ice ripping and tearing around the edges of the lake, masses of wights disappearing into the depths below, bringing the army of the dead to a grinding halt... and giving the small party the chance to catch their breaths and regroup.

Huddled together, fading in and out of sleep, left everyone unsure how long they had been there. Waiting for help that may never arrive. The wind was icy, snow gathered in their hair and (YN) woke up startled to find even more wights surrounding them, quietly hoarding around the edges of the lake, patiently waiting for it to freeze over. Even more gathered along higher ground, their numbers too numerous to count, white walkers scattered among them as if to keep them under control.

Searching the overwhelming sight, (YN) visibly inhaled, her breath leaving her body as a thick cloud of steam, her next intake of air short and sharp when her eyes froze upon the commander of the perishing army. The Night King. Standing still and silent, his generals standing guard around him. Heavy dread hit her chest, feeling it ripple like a wave, growing and gathering momentum until every single hair across her body was standing on end. Even from the distance, it was easy to see his hollow blue eyes intent on her, staring as if his dark and lifeless world depended on it.

(YN) stood abruptly to her feet, the sudden movement bringing Jon’s drowsy state to an abrupt end, his gaze following hers, his natural reflex to jump up and stand in front of her... needing to shield her from his view. Taking a step to the side, (YN) put herself back in plain sight and reached for Jon’s hands, her voice serious. “Queen Daenerys may not get here in time... she may not come at all. Our only chance is to go for him. You saw what happened when you killed the white walker. If we kill him, they all will fall.”

Jon knew she was right, but he shook his head all the same, telling himself it wouldn’t come to that... because he knew the chances of reaching the Night King alive was next to none. But still, he responded, if only to convince himself, “Daenerys will come... I know she will.”

Giving his hands a gentle squeeze, she nodded her head, unconvinced he believed his own words. Yet before her lips could reply, her attention was drawn to the sound of metal scrapping across ice, and Sandor cursing at his own stupidity. In boredom and frustration he threw a rock at a wight, watching as it skimmed across the newly frozen water, only stopping when it hit the emancipated foot of a soldier. Looking towards the sound, (YN) watched as that same soldier headed towards them, it’s sword dragging on the ice behind it. One by one the other wights followed, their weight easily carried by the thick icy surface, each step faster than the last, quickly closing the expanse of ice between them.

The silent foot soldiers were silent no more. As they began to move, they began to scream. Such a terrifying sound, guttural yet hollow, pained and relentless, as though nothing could soothe them. A sound that bounced around the surrounding mountains, only to echo back and remind the living they had nowhere to go, their only option to ready their weapons and fight. Pulling ‘Nightbreaker’ from it’s sheath, (YN) steadied herself for the onslaught, her intention to fight her way across to the white walker in the distance, it’s ice blade held firmly in it’s hands. But for her, the fighting was easy. The dead flooded in like a wave, determined to wash away every sign of life, all accept (YN). Just as their bony fleshless hands stretched out to grab at her, came a low thud that reverberated through the ground and across the ice, it’s impact like a tremor below their feet, it’s effect leaving the wights avoiding her as if she simply was not there. Understandably preoccupied with saving their lives, none of them noticed the Night King the moment he released the tremor, how his staff tapped gently against the ground, a tremor, a message... a wordless command, to leave the woman alone. Leaving her free to indiscriminately cut the dead down two, three, four at a time.

Just a few seconds past when (YN) realised something was strange, and a second more to understand that she was free to defend her companions without needing to defend herself. Forgetting about the approaching walker, she glanced to the army’s leader, his eyes watching her every move, quickly understanding what he wanted. Her. Just her. But she wasn’t about to let it happen without a fight.

Relentlessly, she swung her blade, over and over again, sending countless wights to a dusty grave. But there were too many, overwhelmed by numbers they couldn’t possibly hold back. It was chaos... helpless, their small party even smaller after two freefolk were lost. Tormund barely escaped being dragged into the icy depths of the lake, (YN) reaching him just in time to relieve him from the wight’s bony clutches.

In the midst of battle, she felt Jon’s hand tug at her elbow, calling for everyone to fall back, retreat to higher ground. But that would not save them for long. The dead were already climbing over the top of each other, desperate to reach and claw at their feet, and once they came pouring over the top of the rock there was nowhere to escape. From where she stood, the lake looked like a sea, a heaving sea of dark rotting flesh, determined to consume whatever got in its way. And yet, (YN) repelled the all consuming sea like a desert repels water... leaving her as their only chance. Tightness in her chest ensued, her breaths growing shallow, her eyes looking for options that could buy precious time, hoping a miracle would fall in their laps.

Searching the hopeless sight before her, she noticed among the moving sea of dead, small pockets of stillness. At their centre stood white walkers quiet and patient, watching as the dead scrambled to take what life remained. And (YN) knew they were her ticket to buy desperately needed time. Spinning to Jon, she took him by the arms, her expression saying everything, his head already shaking in dispute. Taking a deep breath, she nodded, her voice emotional yet strong, “I have too... I have to try and buy us some time... If I don’t, they will kill all of you and I’ll be left here with them anyway.” Jon’s expression was defeated, realising she was right, had witnessed just moments ago as wight after wight turned their back on her... left her alone. But he refused to admit it, and his eyes... they gave away his very thoughts, (YN) quickly dismissing them. “No, don’t you dare follow me. You need to stay here, defend each other... They can’t touch me.”

Jon stared at the Night King, his eyes dark and protective, “It’s a trap... he wants you... he wants you alive.”

With a single shrug of her shoulders, she inhaled, “I know, but there is no other option... If I can kill the white walkers, lots of dead will fall with them.”

Before he could argue, she reached across giving him a quick kiss, and with an even quicker breath she turned and ran, swinging ‘Nightbreaker’ with every step, cutting herself a dusty path through the dead, heading towards the closest white walker. With ‘Longclaw’ held tight within his grip, Jon followed straight after, but Tormund stopped him with a iron grip, “Trust your woman, Jon... she knows what she’s doing.”

Continuing to swing, the path only got wider, longer and far more dusty. All of them watching, their breath held tight in their chest as her sword sliced through the middle of the walker, it’s body shattering into brittle crystals of ice, taking hundreds of wights with it. And Tormund, with a fistful of Jon’s furs still tight in his hand, turned to Sandor, his expression half smiling, half accusing, “I told you, you’d be fuckin glad to have her here, didn’t I?”

It was true, the army of the dead, it was real. It wasn’t that Daenerys didn’t believe Jon Snow, but to be there, to see it for herself was another thing entirely. The flight from Dragonstone felt endless, constant worry dragging through her head. The thought of losing Jorah after only getting him back was too much... and Jon.... that stirred a whole different set of unpleasant emotions. But now, as Drogon flew over the mountain range, breath evaded her chest, her heart beating uncontrollably, willing Drogon to fly even faster.

From high above, she could hear it, the sound of nightmares and death. Thousands of unholy shrieks combining to terrify her ears. Her eyes equally as terrified setting upon those same shrieking creatures using each other as ladders, to reach and claw at the small group of living seeking shelter on a rock isolated in the centre of the ice. Watching with horror as someone ran mindlessly into the decaying horde. But, what happened next had her eyes wide with shock, her already overwhelmed mind spinning. Great clouds of dust rose from the ground. Swirling through the air on the wind, a path forming as the foolish person ran through the sea of wights, their sword swinging in every direction. And even from her high vantage point, she could see Jon, see his desperation to join them, yet unable to when a large wild looking man held him back.

Just a breath later, before the dust had even settled, Daenerys witnessed something even more inconceivable. The foolish person... a woman, running at what could only be white walker, sweeping in to slice it through the middle, her skill and speed leaving the walker barely able to defend itself. Crumbling as if it was nothing more than an ornament of fragile glass, hundreds of wights falling to the ice with it. If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed... Who was this woman? It was a question she really didn’t need to ask... it could only be the one the red priestess spoke of. The wildling queen.

Flying overhead with Rhaegal and Viserion flanking her sides, Daenerys’ attention was ripped away to Jon, Jorah and the small group of men. Panic overriding her distraction when their small rock became inundated by dead. Plunging down, she was about to unleash Drogon’s fiery breath when the wildling queen pulverised another walker, the dead that followed falling at the men’s feet, saving them just in time. The small window of reprieve it provided left the men less distracted, their attention now upon the skies. Their faces alive with relief and awe to see Drogon soaring above their heads, his fiery breath ripping through the frozen lake. Its impact sending explosions of ice and water into the sky, setting alight hundreds of wights and sending them to a watery grave.

Daenerys guided Drogon to the ground, his enormous body landing with great force, the small rocky island quaking with the impact. With an intimidating roar of flames, he protected his mother and the men she came to save as Rhaegal and Viserion soared the skies above, cutting fiery rivers through the lake of ice. Looking down to Jon, he looked so relieved and grateful to see her... to see her face, and Daenerys couldn’t deny the small flame it ignited in her chest. Reaching down she offered him her hand, eager for him to join her on the safety of Drogon’s back. But he declined her invitation with a shake of his head, his body retreating from her as he spoke, the look in his eyes instantly extinguishing that small flame, “I can’t, not without (YN).”

Spinning around, he ran for the ice, Daenerys watching as his sword swung uselessly at the wights, doing nothing more than startle them and knock them over. But thankfully, between the wildling queen and her dragons, the wights numbers were thinning, giving him the chance to better defend himself. However, her relief was short lived, her eyes widening with horror at the harrowing sound of Viserion squalling in pain. Looking up to see him falling from the sky, fire and blood pouring from the side of his neck.

Stunned, Daenerys was silent, her horrified and heartbroken self unable to form any coherent thoughts, watching with disbelief... frozen, as Viserion plunged into the ice, tearing a gapping trench right across the length of the lake, his body disappearing into it’s depths. Only the sound of Jon’s gutted scream broke her from her paralysed state. A tortured sound as he called out the wildling queens name. Slowly, Daenerys’ gaze travelled from the empty space her child just disappeared, across to Jon, finding him distraught, staring helplessly at (YN) isolated on the other side of the newly created trench.

Before long, (YN) was screaming back at him, her arms waving desperately, her words pleading and equally distraught, “You have to go.” Twisting her head, she looked up to the Night King, before turning her attention to Daenerys, panic heavy as she yelled at the top of her voice, “Quick, or he’s going to kill your other Dragons... You have to take everyone and go.”

What happened next, unfolded so quickly there was no time in think. Looking at the Night King for the first time, sent chills so terrifying down her spine that she lost her breath. To see him reach across for an icy spear, see him aim it at Rhaegal, had her heart beating so furiously she could feel it in her throat, her eyes snapping back to (YN) when she screamed with such finality that it snapped Daenerys into action, “GO... NOW.”

Next came Jon, refusing her request, his intention to run along the length of the trench, desperate to get to the other side, but he didn’t get far. A giant of a man, who’s mottled scar ran down the length of his face, grabbed him, ripping him backwards towards Drogon, his voice rough and full of regret, “There’s no savin’ her.” It took him and the redheaded man to get Jon’s struggling form up on Drogon’s back, almost having to tie him down like the wight beside him.

With a single moment of hesitation Daenerys took flight, weaving Drogon from harm’s way as a giant ice spear came spiralling from the Night King’s hand. All of them silent, expressions sullen yet somewhat awed as they witnessed Lady (YN), the wildling queen and former queen in the north, spin on her feet and run into an expanding horde of dead, her sword taking every opportunity to once again create endless clouds of dust. Forging piles of innocuous bones when she lunged at another walker... but not Jon. Daenerys’ already devastated heart, heavy with the loss of Viserion, crumbled even more... wishing she could ignore the heartbreaking words coming from his lips, so angry, yet broken and full of anguish. “I can't leave without her, she'll die... GO BACK.”

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[akatsuki-shin]

Review: 天官赐福 Tiān Guān Cì Fú (Heaven Official's Blessing)

Notes:

(Very) long post ahead

Contains spoiler

This is my personal review and does not represent the entire audience, you are free to agree or not agree with what I’ve written here

Feel free to reply/send me a message if there are things you want to discuss

Summary:

The most beloved Crown Prince, pride of the Kingdom of Xianle with abundance of talents and achievements, Xie Lian, ascended to Heaven and became a martial god at the young age of 17 on the path to fulfill his dream "to save the common people".

Three years after his ascension, he saw his kingdom beginning to decline and in order to save his beloved country, Xie Lian defied the rules of Heaven and descended back to the mortal realm. Nevertheless, instead of saving them, his interference ended up accelerating the fall of Xianle, annihilating the once prosperous nation under the war of rebellion and a mysterious, horrifying plague.

The people who once praised and worshipped him day and night now condemned him, his devotees left him, they burnt his temples and divine statues, and Xie Lian himself was ultimately banished from the Heaven.

He ascended for the second time a short while later, but was banished once more very soon after. Since then, he lived among the mortals - surviving by collecting junks as he was now branded as the "God of Misfortune", the "Scrap Collecting Immortal".

800 years later, Xie Lian ascended again for the third time. Though having neither temples nor devotees, he accepted his responsibility as a martial god and carried on with his duties until one day, there came a certain, incidental encounter with a mysterious youth clad in red.

STORY: 7/10

TGCF overall is an (almost) complete, satisfying read with well-written twists and development.

Unlike the two previous MXTX's novels, the main pairing here (HuaLian) did not have to go through complicated misunderstandings and is a beautiful representation of love and devotion. Of course, this means there is a lack of conflict between them, but considering all the trials and tribulations the characters have gone through, this lack of conflict feels like a relieving fresh spring amidst the painful and exhausting journey throughout the entire five books.

The best and my most favorite plot twist is the Earth Master Ming Yi having been dead for a while, and the "Ming Yi" we know turns out to be the Black Water Submerging Boats, He Xuan. I'm the kind of person who always suspects characters, but even my furthest suspicion was "only" him being the Reverend of Empty Words, not He Xuan.

Truthfully, prior to reading this novel, I've seen Shi Qingxuan's "MING-XIONG, I'M SORRY x9999" post before without context, and I thought Ming Yi was going to die a tragic death because of Shi Qingxuan. Turns out it's kind of the opposite, huh? Nice one, really.

I also like how each character's "end" feels satisfying. Especially for the villains, they didn't necessarily have to die some tragic, vengeful death, but was provided with an ending that perfectly fits their background story and deeds. For example, in most stories, a character like Xuan Ji would be most likely be given some well-deserved punishment as her death, given everything she's done. But no, in the end she was given a reality check and was finally able to let go of her hundreds of years grudge. And then Qi Rong - I will talk more about him later on in the "Character" section.

One part I really love is the Extra Chapter about the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods. The chapter itself overall is mostly nonsensical and chaotic, but it was just so touching when HuaLian created a "Little Hua Cheng" statue to accompany Xie Lian's "Crown Prince who Pleased the Gods" statue, especially when this Little Hua Cheng statue gave Crown Prince Xie Lian statue a flower, and then Crown Prince Xie Lian received it, lifted him up and carried him in his arms. This one was maybe a bit biased because as much as I love the current HuaLian, I have a special soft spot for the young Xie Lian carrying, cradling the little Hua Cheng back then in the past. ;v;

Though, with all due respect, I must say that TGCF is actually below my expectation.

The biggest issue I have with TGCF is... What is Xie Lian's motivation? What drives him to move forward in the story? What is even the whole story's purpose?

I'm not quite sure how to word this properly, but let me give some examples.

When you read Harry Potter, you know immediately that Voldemort is the bad guy and he must be defeated.

When you read the Lord of the Rings, you know immediately that the One Ring must be destroyed to prevent Sauron from regaining his power.

Or, in MXTX previous works...

In SVSSS, it was clear since the beginning that Shen Yuan's mission is to fix the "Proud Immortal Demon Way" if he wants to survive.

In MDZS, it was clear that Wei Wuxian, together with Lan Wangji's, needs to unravel the mystery behind that fierce left arm. All of their past stories and WangXian getting together in the end are just something they discovered along the way, not the initial "motivation" that drives the character to move forward.

What about TGCF? The Xie Lian who ascended for the third time actually looks like he just wants to go along with the flow, carrying out his duties day by day with responsibility. When Bai Wuxiang later, later, later on appeared to haunt him again, it didn't seem like Xie Lian has any ambition to hunt him down or exact a revenge, just that he wanted to forget about Bai Wuxiang and never recall anything about him ever again. The main character looks like he's not being driven by anything, just...carrying on where the plot takes him? It's just missions after missions and whatever huge things happening in between is just something they accidentally passed by along the way.

At this point, the only purpose of the story I can think of is bringing Hua Cheng and Xie Lian together. The romance is great, I have no complain. But if it's just that, no need to jammed-pack 250+ chapters just to make two people getting together?

Speaking of which, I also think that the way new characters keep being introduced all the way to almost the final showdown of the story feels info dump-ish, because the background story needs to be dropped there along with the characters, but then most of these characters fade away immediately after.

For example, the previous Civil God before Ling Wen, who looks like he’s going to pose some real trouble, but then was easily defeated and was never mentioned again afterwards. And this is especially true for He Xuan; after such a huge arc where he committed such extreme things, after that he was barely mentioned again, even having his “strong impression” leveled down by the joke about him being the poorest Calamity and owing lots of debts to Hua Cheng.

Basically what makes TGCF a long story is because there are too many stories about the side characters in addition to the main characters that are dumped out of the blue instead of slowly being revealed along the way.

Though, I love how the story gradually unravels the "Four Famous Tales" because initially, I thought it wasn't something crucial, and I wished they could've done this for other characters, too.

There is a little bit of plot holes here and there, as in who actually cut open Jian Lan/Lan Chang's baby and made it a ghost, and for what? Even if it turned out that she just met a bad guy or nobody important, at least provide an explanation in one paragraph? Especially because important side characters like Feng Xin and Mu Qing are involved here, so I'm pretty sure us readers need some explanation.

And more importantly, how can Jun Wu become the Emperor martial god? There's no mention about him ascending, only that he annihilated a dynasty of gods before sitting on the throne of the Great Martial Hall. But how can he, like, emitted god-like aura and not some evil aura? Is it because he used to be a god? But he's a ghost? Explanation where???

The gags and comedies are pretty fun, but honestly, the more I read, the more they ruin the atmosphere and suspense, added with the uncalled PDA between Hua Cheng and Xie Lian even during the most important moments. Honestly, I was bored the fuck out of my life from the moment they start fighting Jun Wu with those divine gundams, and only start gaining interest again much later on when Hua Cheng dissipated into butterflies.

Not saying the story's bad. Just... It's not up to my expectation... Characters being inserted here and there with a bunch of background story, gags and a show of PDA being flaunted during crucial moments. And when Mei Nianqing started telling the truth about the Kingdom of Wuyong, that's just plain info dump right there, seriously...

CHARACTERS: 7/10

Interesting characters, but only a few bore a lasting impression on me. Other than the main characters, which are Xie Lian and Hua Cheng, the only side characters (minus Bai Wuxiang as the main villain) who left quite some impression on me were probably just Feng Xin and Mu Qing.

Pei Ming is okay, at least he is still memorable until the end, and his character improved, too.

He Xuan, after having been introduced with such extreme, after his arc is over, was easily forgotten just like that.

Mei Nianqing, is borderline Deus Ex-Machina with a huge chunk of info dump that could solve everything, then he stopped being useful for the rest of the story.

Shi Qingxuan... Honestly, he's almost annoying, too noisy. I don’t hate him (and I kind of like him initially), but the way his character was being handled and presented post-Black Water arc feels disappointingly lazy and he was just there to make the party more merry.

Xie Lian himself, as the protagonist, how do I say this... This is maybe due to the translator's writing style (not MXTX’s fault), but whenever he screams in all capslock, it feels too extreme and borderline OOC? Of course, the original novel written in hanzi couldn't have included capslock.

What's great about him, though, is that despite all he'd gone through, he can still retain a pure heart and could not be swayed to be evil, just as he himself said "Body in the abyss, heart in paradise".

Now Hua Cheng, he is overall a super interesting character and I personally love this type of male characters. But he seriously is way too OP, almost like the original Luo Binghe (Bing-ge) a.k.a. too ideal, too perfect, no flaws, always capable of easily finding a way out in every single peril. I only forgive him for being like this because he dissipated into butterflies at the end of the battle with Jun Wu, making me think "oh, finally he's actually not invincible".

Still, his devotion to Xie Lian is very well written, very well presented, and his "I am forever your most devoted believer" is just downright the most powerful line in the whole story.

Now I promised to talk about Qi Rong, yeah? I haven't the slightest idea why it is even necessary to have Qi Rong as the Night-touring Green Lantern. I mean, yes he is there to make up the number of the Four Great Calamities, but that was for the characters who live in that world. As the novel's reader, I don't see any particularly important roles there for Qi Rong other than being an annoying meme fodder despite his actually pretty-cool first foreshadowing and appearance? Even his issue with Lang Qianqiu does not seem to give that much impact on the overall story, it could've just passed simply being explained in several pages.

Though I'd say he's got the best character development compared to others. Instead of dying as some hateful villain, the way he ended up deciding to protect Guzi at the cost of his own life can already be expected from miles away, but still bittersweet and touching nonetheless - how this crazed, mental person could still love when being presented with such pure, innocent feelings to the point that he acknowledged Guzi as a his own son.

By the way, E Ming and Ruoye are cute, I take no criticism.

TECHNICAL ASPECTS: 8/10

I can't really describe this with words, but MXTX's overall writing technique has greatly improved since MDZS.

It feels more "solid" to read instead of scattered here and there.

The info distribution has improved (fewer info dump compared to before), the story's no longer switching between past and present all of a sudden.

Description of characters and environment are sufficient, the plot is progressing steadily.

Several issues I have with this aspect though, the Prologue being ten pages is just way too long, I don't think I need that much information being stuffed right to my face right from the beginning.

There are excessive use of "Turns out..." every single time an explanation is going to come.

"Xie Lian didn't know whether he should cry or laugh" is honestly has been used probably more than 50 times just in the last two books. Although I'm reading a translation, I'm pretty sure the original Chinese version is being repetitive with this phrase, as well, because the translators couldn't just whip up any other phrase from thin air and put it in someone else's novel.

Almost half of scene transition is always caused by some sudden, external disturbance like "All of a sudden they heard someone's coming", "All of a sudden X visits their room", etc.

OVERALL SCORE: 7.3/10

Worth to read, satisfying overall. The main pairing's love story is just so well written and sweet. As long as you can withstand the violence and gore, though. 😂

TGCF highlights perhaps one of the ugliest natures of mankind: Being nice to someone as long as they're beneficial, and immediately throwing them away once the benefit was no more.

Once that person does not seem to be beneficial anymore, everyone would leave them instantly, even turning on them and start spitting on them without even trying to understand the reason why said person "stopped being beneficial".

Both as a Crown Prince and a martial god, Xie Lian and the Crown Prince of Wuyong were praised, revered, worshipped by the citizens of Xianle and Wuyong respectively. Because they were always helping, always fulfilling the people's wishes. But how easily it was for those very same people to turn on Xie Lian and the Crown Prince of Wuyong when they encountered misfortunes, completely turning a blind eye to the laborious effort both characters have been putting to save them from annihilation, even if it was visible in broad daylight.

It is also worth to note another trait of mankind that this story underlines: To always find a scapegoat or blame others for one's own misfortune and failure - be it another human being, another group of people, the government, even the gods - after having taking their generosity for granted.

Which is why I think the true villain of the story is not Bai Wuxiang, but those citizens of the ancient Wuyong who were now nothing more than resentful spirits eternally burning within the lava of Tonglu Mountain - a well deserved punishment after what they did to their Crown Prince.

[sweetestlamb]

How Do I Look?

Summary: Mun Yeong and Gang-Tae spend their first weekend apart. Things go really well.

Author's Note: I intended for this to be less gutter filth but I'm a pervert so you got this instead. Sorry. A little. I'm the worst. I know. I promise to try to stop being a hornball and write something sweet and wholesome. 

P.s. I just did some edits, so any errors should now be fixed. Thank you to everyone sharing my story, y’all are the realest.  I’ll be posting this on AO3 as well to get that fandom recognized soon. 

The sunlight shines intensely through the windows and Mun Yeong wonders how much it would cost to stop that, just turn off the sunlight that perpetually ruins her sleep every morning. Those ridiculous birds are always chirping outside her window clearly in cahoots with the sun. With menacing eyes she glares at them all.

The cursed Castle is quiet. Still. It is her first weekend alone. She sighs in frustration, annoyed that he planned on keeping his word and going back to the live- in cook and two-faced bitch's house. Threatening to kill him if they left hadn’t convinced him and that was the only thing she could think of to say to him. What other reason could she ask him to stay?

Stay for me.

No. That would scare him away too. Or maybe his answer would scare her. All the same, now she was alone in this huge Castle and she didn't know if she could stand it. The castle felt so much more alive with them here. When they cleaned that day it was as if breathe had been pumped into the lungs of the castle. It no longer felt like she was living in a cemetery.

She didn't want to share him and especially not with that bitch.

Eyes scanning the room, she thought of something to do to pass the time. I want to go and kidnap him. But. He had seemed excited at the thought of seeing Jae-Soo , his dimwitted friend who ran a chicken farm or something. It must have been nice to have a friend. Someone who wanted to be around you, not for money or prestige just because they liked you. She tried to remember if she ever had anyone like that. Anyone besides him.

Lost in her thoughts her eyes landed on her shoes. Black heels, patent leather, five inch heel, crimson red bottom. She had seen them in a store and knew she had to have them. The fact that they were in someone else's hands was a minor inconvenience that a well placed glare solved. The last ones too. Destiny. What do you think you're doing? The minor inconvenience had gasped as she placed the heels on her own feet and found they were a perfect fit. Some things were meant to be.

Shopping, could be fun.

Her over-sized sunglasses dwarfed her face intentionally, she did not need fans approaching her. She knew that her face would do a great job at deterring them as well, resting bitch face was her natural face. She had already been to many different stores. Bags hung from her hand as she approached the next store. Heels clicking rhythmically, she entered and a slow "wow" left her lips as she looked up at the outfit adorning the body of a mannequin.

I want it.

"How can I help you today ma'am?" A young woman approached her with eager steps, plastic smile stretched across her face. She didn't answer verbally, instead pointed at the mannequin. The woman nodded and retrieved an exact replica for her.

"We also have changing rooms." She stated pointing to the rooms in the back but she shook her head no. "I will take it." A smiled dipped across her face that would make the Cheshire cat proud. Now she knew exactly now to have some fun.

Gang-Tae laughed as Jae-Soo swung his arms around recalling the customer who tried to bring their cat in for a free caricature drawing from Sang-Tae.

"Pizza is not for feline companions. Most cats are lactose intolerant and you should not give them any dairy. They will vomit or even have diarrhea and it is very painful for their butthole. You must not give your cat any dairy products." His brother quickly added from his corner, where he laid on his stomach rapidly reading another one of Mun-Yeong's stories.

He snickered and imagined how disgusted she would look if she were here. Rose petal lips twisted in distaste. It had been hours since he had left her and he wondered what she was doing? Sharpening knives? Scaring small animals?

But he didn't have to wonder for long because his phone vibrated in his pocket and her name lit up on the screen. She would probably try to convince him to come home again, ignoring his decision to leave on the weekends. Not understanding that he needed time away, being around her all the time was difficult enough. Seeing her every morning and every night was hard. It would be easy if he could convince his eyes to stop looking at her. But alas, they were disobedient. So the weekends were his only escape from her spell.

He carelessly opened her message and then pressed it shut. Feeling a flush run from the tips of his toes to top of his head. His breath hitched and his blood simmered. Was it possible to hyperventilate and pass out and die from lack of oxygen? He was about to figure out.

Maybe I'm dreaming right now. This is just another one of those dreams. I fell asleep and I'm dreaming.

He almost convinced himself until another message came. And with trembling hands he excused himself to the bathroom and shakily sat on the toilet. Taking a deep calming breathe, fortifying himself only to crumble like a sandcastle when he opened the message.

How do I look?

Her feet were encased in red heels, dainty like the rest of her. But it was the rest that felt him grasping for breathe. A red corset hugged her body making her already small waist look impossibly slim delicate even, but he knew better, her panties were connected to thigh high matching stockings.He had never seen anything this tempting.  He briefly wondered how they would feel on his skin. How would she feel on his skin?

When the phone began to vibrated in his hands, he almost dropped it. He stared down at the phone, fear and lust both raging in his body. Until he finally accepted the call, I must be crazy.

"What are you doing?!" He exclaimed genuinely wondering why she wanted to kill him today.

"Did you like the picture? I got this today. If you were home you could have helped me put it on." She proceeded, ignoring his question and proceeding to kill him further. "But don't worry, if you hurry home you can still help me take it off."

"Stop. Stop talking." He begged. 

She didn't.

"It feels amazing on my skin." She moaned into his ear with that voice of hers, and he felt shivers run though his body just like when she had blown in his ears. "You can't see but it's crotch-less too, so easy access. We don't even need to take it off to have fun!"

He didn't understand how she could say these things as if she were a salesperson simply listing the benefits of the product. Was it possible to die from over-stimulation? Was today his last day? He forced himself not to look at the picture to find the slit she was referring too.

"Please stop." He pleaded again, pleading to both her and his traitor of a body that was now awake and fully aboard with everything she was selling. He glared down at the tent in his jeans, wondering if that would kill him actually, lack of blood available to flow to his brain.

"I miss you, come home."

Those words went straight to his heart without his permission. She really was an unstoppable force. It probably didn't help that he wasn't trying hard to stop her. Or at all.

"I can't." He really, really wanted to. The pin was precariously on the edge. 

She huffed on the other side of the phone and he expected her to explode, volatile, a ticking time bomb ready to detonate but instead she quietly responded, "How do I look?"

"Amazing. You look amazing." He said honestly, stupidly. It took everything in him to not open the message again and see the tantalizing photo again, imagining her wrapped around him as he slammed her into the nearest wall, listening to her moans as he played with her sweet wetness through the new deadly panties. His breathes were a fast staccato, and she moaned at the sound, "It would look even better on the floor."

He didn't get a chance to reply because there was a loud knock on the door.

"Gang-Tae are you okay? We're going to get food, do you want to come?"

He cleared his throat before answering, "No, no you go ahead. I need a minute."

Jae-Soo was silent for a second before he responded, "Okay make sure to use an air freshener we'll see you soon."

He signed in relief glad that he didn't ask any questions. Better they thought he was having stomach problems. 

"Only a minute? That fast huh?" She teased. 

"Stop saying nonsense!" He angrily retorted, blush blooming all over his face and chest. Embarrassed that it really would be that fast, seeing her like that had awakened something primal in him.  His erection wasn't going to go down on its own and he didn't have much time until Jae-Su and his brother were back. Shame washed over him.

"I...um have to go"

"No you don't. I just heard you, you told them to go ahead because you need a..... Oooooooh" He squeezed his eyes shut at her sound of recognition, he felt powerless. His hand was already creeping down to his heavy erection. It felt like it was throbbing now and the sounds she made naturally weren't helping.

"I can stay. I can help, do you want me to send more pictures? I can take one in nothing, if you'd like." She offered and he could hear her moving, and he shouted before she could actually kill him, "NO!!" He didn't want the first time he saw her....like that to be an image. He wanted to be able to touch. If she sent that picture he might run to the castle and....no. He didn't need anymore photos.

"I have to go. Goodbye." He repeated, hand reaching its target and the pleasure was instant, his knees buckled as he almost fell to the ground.

"You sound incredible, send me a photo too. I want to see."

He looked down at this dick, head disappearing and reappearing in his grip. Fluid dripping down the sides, easing his way.

"Okay. You sound like you're having fun. I'll leave you to it. Come home tomorrow." And just like that she was gone. He groaned wanting to shout her name and maybe cry a little. Why did she have to play with him like this, he couldn't handle this. The phone fell from his grip, clattering to the side.

He pulled and twisted, feeling the end approaching as he tugged himself to completion, images of Mun-Yeong spread across his bed with him thrusting into her filling his head. She would be wild under him, giving as good as she got, nails clawing at his back.

With, a final thrust he felt his cum flew out, surging though his body violently, ultimately bringing him to his knees. "Ko Mun-Yeong!!" He rasped out as his vision blurred and after a long minute he opened his eyes, looking down at the mess he had made.

Cum stains dripped down his phone.

"Wow"

He looked down at the phone in shock.

She never hung up.

[chiaki-translation]

Luminous Circus: Event Translation Ch7-8

I realized that if I post once a day I won’t be able to finish it in time because there’s epilogue. Let’s see what I can do~ Someone asked me how I can do the translation so fast, well, I’m currently more or less jobless, just waiting for school to start. Due to Covid, I have a very long holiday and I’m at the point that I’m actually pretty bored with nothing to do. So I decided I should use my time for something more useful *cough* I mean, doing translation helps me learn English and Japanese (English is not my mother tongue) and I’m enjoying my time doing this so why not~

Btw, feel free to tell me if there’s anything weird/wrong with my translation because I’m still learning and I do want to learn to make them better. Thank you so much for reading whatever I’ve done! Without further ado, today’s chapter will be under the cut again, enjoy~

(Also, added hyperlink for chapters under the same event so it’s easier for reader to find related chapters~)

Ch3-4 / / Ch5-6 / / Ch7-8 / / Ch9-10 / / Epilogue

Disclaimer:

A3! is owned by Liber’s Entertainment

Homare:

Grandmother.

Homare’s Grandmother:

Oh, that painting, is it already fixed?

Homare:

Not yet--

Homare’s Grandmother:

?

Homare:

For grandmother, the thing that you treasure is not the painting itself, but the memories within the painting right.

About the repair, sorry for saying something irrelevant.

Thanks to Sakuya-kun and Muku-kun, I realized that the most important thing is not the item itself.

Homare’s Grandmother:

It’s because of those 2 over there right.

Sakuya:

No! I did nothing!

Muku:

I also didn’t say much.

Homare’s Grandmother:

I see…

Though, you guys are quite stubborn for a poet and a painter.

Homare:

Uh…

Kazunari:

Ahaha…

Homare’s Grandmother:

Well, I also don’t understand people much.

Homare:

About this painting, is it something that grandmother gave to grandfather as a present?

Homare’s Grandmother:

…Yes.

<Recall Memories at Mansion’s Garden>

Homare’s Grandfather:

Miyako-san, why don’t you come over here.

Homare’s Grandmother:

What is it?

Homare’s Grandfather:

There you go.

Homare’s Grandmother:

This is?

Homare’s Grandfather:

They’re art materials.

Homare’s Grandmother:

I can see that myself. Who’s going to use it?

Homare’s Grandfather:

It’s going to be me and you.

Homare’s Grandmother:

I’m a poet, I don’t have any interest in painting.

Homare’s Grandfather:

I’m the same.

Today’s joyful feelings, I was thinking of painting it so we won’t forget.

Homare’s Grandmother:

We can take pictures for that.

Homare’s Grandfather:

That would be boring.

Anyway, we cannot leave our feelings in a picture.

I just want to leave behind this inspiration swelling inside of me right now.

Homare’s Grandmother:

If that’s the case, it’s enough to just put it in a Haiku.

Homare’s Grandfather:

I already made too much Haiku for you.

Homare’s Grandmother:

Is this a punishment game or something?

Homare’s Grandfather:

It’s not, I just thought it would be fun to trial and error together on something new.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…Sigh. I understand.

Homare’s Grandfather:

Thank you.

…

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

Homare’s Grandfather:

Hmm, between you and me, we have around the same skill in painting.

Homare’s Grandmother:

This painting, never show it to anyone else.

Homare’s Grandfather:

Of course not.

You actually managed to draw that bear well.

Homare’s Grandmother:

It’s an elephant.

Homare’s Grandfather:

I see it now that you say it.

Anyway, if we just practice in a few sheets, we’ll definitely get better.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…Hah.

<Short Time Skip>

Homare’s Grandmother:

Isn’t this enough already?

Homare’s Grandfather:

Hmm…. I like this painting the best, is it a clown?

Homare’s Grandmother:

Yes, so you can see it.

Homare’s Grandfather:

Of course.

Then, this one is an elephant.

Homare’s Grandmother:

It’s a circus tent.

Homare’s Grandfather:

I see it now that you say it.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…

Homare’s Grandfather:

Yep, it’s really great.

Do you mind if I receive this from you?

Homare’s Grandmother:

I don’t get how you can call this horrid painting great.

Homare’s Grandfather:

I feel that I can see that rare smile of yours here.

Homare’s Grandmother:

…Hah. I understand.

Then, I’ll give it to you as thanks for today.

<Back to Present>

Homare’s Grandmother:

Ironically, I even left such a message behind…

In return for the painting, he gave me the pocket watch.

Homare:

I see.

Homare’s Grandmother:

We painted this painting together, and it contains the memory of that person who gave me such happiness, that’s why, for me, it is my precious treasure.

There’s no value in such a horrid painting.

I thought that way too, but…  I guess you’re right.

Kazunari:

--

Homare’s Grandmother:

There are feelings contained in this painting.

That is something that should not be thrown away easily.

Thank you for saying that you won’t give up on it.

Instead of repair, I think I’ll keep it as it is.

Even if it has become like this, the important thing won’t change.

Rather than getting repaired by someone else, I think it’s better as it is.

Kazunari:

I see. I understand.

Homare’s Grandmother:

Thank you for making it dry and clean.

You should show me your painting next time.

Kazunari:

Of course!

Takao:

Sorry to disturb you, Homare-sama.

Homare:

What is it?

Takao:

I found a picture of the painting.

Homare:

Really!?

Takao:

I received the picture from the remodeling contractor who took it for his reference.

Director:

Thi, this is…

Homare:

See, it looks the same with the one I drew doesn’t it?

Kazunari:

You’re right! Aririn, that’s amazing!

Director:

(I didn’t expect for the painting to be really like that…

Now I understand grandfather’s feeling who thought it was an elephant.

Homare-san’s talent is really similar to his grandmother, the literary talent too.)

<Shifts to Mansion’s Living Room>

Homare:

Thanks to you guys, I managed to understand grandmother’s feeling.

Thank you.

Sakuya:

That’s… I’m sure that it’s Homare-san’s feelings towards your grandmother that has been conveyed.

Muku:

Homare-san really think a lot about your grandmother.

Homare:

Nah, I still don’t really understand people’s feelings.

It’s really difficult, there’re still so much to learn.

Kazunari:

It’s not only Aririn!

I’m the same too, the same!

Homare:

Hmm… Even for Kazunari-kun whom Yuki-kun claimed to be the Communication Guy.

Kazunari:

Yep yep, but, even if you don’t understand, make sure you talk a lot with the other person, and everything will be alright!

Homare:

I see… You’re right.

Muku:

In the end, what happened to the reformation?

Homare:

We’ll keep that place as it is.

It’s a bit barren, but it’s full of memories for grandfather and grandmother.

I thought grandmother will definitely be the happiest if I leave it as it is.

Director:

I see…

I’m pretty sure your grandmother will be glad.

Homare:

Yes…

At grandfather’s funeral, I saw my grandmother, who already wiped her tears, looking forward with such determination. I always thought she’s a strong and cold person.

But, surely, it wasn’t the case.

When my grandfather passed away, when the painting was ruined too, I’m sure she was filled with a lot of sadness.

I cannot do things like making the typhoon never happened, I wonder if I can do something to return the smile back to grandmother’s face…

Kazunari:

If you want the big smile back on her face, I think you can do so by making new memories with her.

Homare:

Hmm…

Director:

--If that’s the case, I think I know of a perfect method. Right, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya:

Eh?

Director:

I mean, if it’s circus…

Sakuya:

Ah!!

Homare:

What is it?

Sakuya:

There is!

A method to make her smile again!

<End of Chapter 7>

Guy:

It’s unusual for it to be Whiskey.

Azuma:

It’s a good change sometimes.

Tsuzuru:

Yukishiro-san really knows a lot about alcohol.

Azuma:

I can teach you if you want to know more.

Tsuzuru:

Th, thank you.

Tasuku:

There’s a high chance you’ll drink too much if you use Azuma-san as the reference, please be careful.

Guy:

Other than as reference, you can learn from him.

Azuma:

Why does it sounds like you guys were being mean to me.

Director:

I’m home.

Kazunari:

I’m home~

Homare:

I’m home.

Azuma:

Welcome back.

Tsuzuru:

Welcome back.

Homare:

Glad you’re here, Tsuzuru-kun!

Will you cast me in with the Circus Troupe?

Tsuzuru:

Eh?

Homare:

I’ve already gathered the troupe members.

Kazunari:

Here here!

Sakuya:

Yes!

Muku:

I want to join too!

Director:

I told Homare-san about the Circus idea for the script.

Tsuzuru:

Oh, I see.

Homare:

I apologize for bringing in my personal feelings but, I want to present a memory of circus to my important person.

Tsuzuru:

From the beginning, the circus is Arisugawa-san’s idea isn’t it.

Homare:

Hmm, now that you said it, it is.

Maybe I was already thinking about that painting somewhere inside my head…

Tsuzuru:

I wrote the lead, George, with Arisugawa-san as the image.

By all means, pleased to work with you.

Anyway, the desire to convey your feelings through a performance, I also understand it.

Homare:

Thank you.

Tasuku:

Seems like the members have already been decided.

Azuma:

It seems that the next Mixed Performance will be another good one.

Guy:

Yeah. Arisugawa’s circus… I’m looking forward to it.

<Shifts To Art Gallery>

Visitor:

Are you Miyoshi Kazunari?

Kazunari:

Yes.

Visitor:

This painting, is it an expression of water?

Kazunari:

Yes, this shadow represents the fluctuation of the water surface.

I had a hard time finishing  it, but the flow and the three-dimensional effect was there to show the expression as well.

Visitor:

I see…. I can buy this right?

Kazunari:

Eh? Well, yes…

Visitor:

Then, I’ll take it.

Kazunari:

Eh!? Are you sure you’re fine with this!?

Visitor:

I think it’s a wonderful painting.

Kazunari:

Th, thank you so much.

You can proceed over there…

Visitor:

Alright. Please continue to do your best from now.

Kazunari:

Yes.

…

Homare:

You don’t seem to be convinced.

Kazunari:

Aririn, you came.

Homare:

I wonder if you’re actually not satisfied with this painting.

Kazunari:

It’s not that I’m not satisfied with it.

I just don’t know whether it actually worth the money it’s being sold for.

Until now, I’ve been drawing without thinking of monetary value at all, that’s why I’m feeling a bit lost.

But for that visitor, this painting has become something of value.

Homare:

I’m sure that the visitor has their own thoughts of the value of the painting, which might be different from yours.

Similar to poem too, under different perspective, the value will be decided by the different individuals who listens to it.

As a fellow creator, I understand your feelings.

But, in a good and bad way, the recipients might end up deciding the value without regarding the creator’s thoughts and feelings.

That’s why, even when you’re thinking of its value, you should continue to draw only paintings that you’ll be satisfied with.

However, I don’t think you need to feel guilty for not being able to agree with the value of the painting.

I mean, you must have poured your feelings when you’re drawing this painting too, right?

Kazunari:

--It’s like that. As expected of Aririn!

Homare:

By the way, do they have any postcard here?

I want to give it to my important person.

If can, I want it to be a painting of a circus.

Kazunari:

If you’re looking for that, you have to special order one.

<End of Chapter 8>

[holidaywishes]

It Had To Be You XLVIII

Chapter Forty Eight: Ruin My Life/Messages From Her

  Summary: It’s been two days since you and Tyler were together and you try to Face Time him but Karen interferes.

  Warning: hmm.. hopefully some fluff?

  Author’s Note: So, this is another relatively short chapter but the next chapter is pretty long and it’s.. a lot. To say the least. I cried when I wrote most of it so it’s quite a ride and an interesting way to go. I hope you enjoy this small reprieve in these last two chapters from the angst to come and the angst that has been. So the title for this one is a choice, depending on how the mood you have while reading the chapter. I love both songs so much but they’re such different vibes and they both fit with the feel of the chapter. Ruin My Life is a bit more upbeat and cute while Messages From Her has that kind of melancholy, angsty feeling that the series has. So, I leave the song and the chapter title up to you for this one -- sort of like a choose your own adventure! I hope you enjoy it either way!

  Song Credit: Ruin My Life -- Zara Larsson/Messages From Her -- Sabrina Claudio

  masterlist

  the other masterlist

xx

  It was Canada Day, which meant it was one day until you would be walking down the aisle to marry the love of your life. You and Tyler had agreed that he would spend the nights in Brampton with his mom and you would take the lake house; so you wouldn’t have to worry about bringing your dress or forgetting anything important. It also meant that you were able to have a big Canada Day party by the lake with some of your friends and family who had come to Ontario for the wedding. But you wanted Tyler there. You missed having him around so you snuck away to FaceTime him; listening to the chiming as you waited for him to answer

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Karen said from behind just as Tyler picked up

  “Nothing..”

  “Hello?” Tyler said

  “You’re not supposed to see each other before the wedding!” She said as she made her way over to where you were standing

  “There were no rules against us FaceTiming!”

  “Yeah!” Tyler added, chuckling as he did so

  “Goodbye, Tyler.” Karen said and he shrugged before hanging up

  “Wow. He gave up so quickly” you joked

  “Have you finished your vows?” She asked

  “Yes.”

  “You’re lying”

  “I am not!” you countered, “I finished my vows but I haven’t written his note yet.”

  “Note?”

  “Yeah, Tyler said we should write each other letters and read them before we see each other tomorrow.”

  “Oh that’s cute. I’ve seen those pictures on Pinterest.”

  “Right?! I was surprised he wanted to do it but now I can’t seem to write the note...”

  “Have you started?”

  “I tried,” you sighed, “but I keep getting distracted.”

  “Hmm” she hummed and you cocked your head to the side, furrowing your brows at her response

  “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

  “Nothing. Here,” she said, sitting you down at the table and handing you some paper, “start writing. It’ll flow easily, I’m sure. When you’re done, come out and get some food.” You rolled your eyes at her, huffing as she walked away but you tried to jot some thoughts down; flying through memory after memory of your relationship with Tyler, filling the page with the ones that made you smile and left out the ones that brought tears to your eyes. It was a small thing but it truly made you feel closer to him.

  “I love you” he texted, bringing a smile to your face

  “I love you, too,” you replied, “I just finished my letter to you”

  “Ahh, late with that huh? I thought you’d have that done earlier. I know I did.”

  “You did not!”

  “I did too! As soon as I suggested it, I knew what I wanted to say so I wrote it down so I wouldn’t forget any of it.”

  “Wow. I’m actually shocked”

  “I feel like I should be offended by that...”

  “No! I love that you were able to write it so quickly. I miss you...”

  “I miss you, too. I can’t wait to marry you tomorrow”

  “What are you doing right now?”

  “My mom invited some people over so we’re having a little barbeque with the family and some friends”

  “Okay, I’ll let you get back to it. Tell everyone I say hi. I should probably get back to our little party as well”

  “Will do. See you tomorrow, I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” You went back to the party, grabbing a plate of food and talking to everyone before Lucy put a Canada Day headband on you and forced you to take pictures and you took some shots on your own phone, about a million boomerangs included, and quickly posted them on your Instagram. It wasn’t long before you came across Candace’s story from the party, smiling as you watched Tyler cook steaks on the grill as Jackie and Cassidy danced in the background.

  “Whatcha doin’?” Diana said as she looked over your shoulder

  “Just checkin’ Instagram” you answered and she laughed

  “You’re getting married tomorrow!” she exclaimed

  “I know! It’s crazy right?”

  “It is!” she replied while you continued to scroll through your feed

  “I’m happy though,” you smiled to yourself, “like really happy. I’m a little shocked that he still wants to marry me, especially after that whole ‘postponing the wedding’ thing, but he said he wrote his letter as soon as he thought about it. He said he misses me.”

  “The bar seems real low there, (Y/N)” she shrugged

  “Hey!” you scoffed, “look I know how that sounds but you’d have to see the change that I see. He’s nowhere near who he was when we first met him”

  “I know that,” she admitted, “and I know that he is so excited to marry you. I’m happy you’re happy and so in love.”

  “Yeah,” you smiled to yourself, “I am.” Diana sat back in her chair, smiling at you and how happy you were while your face was still buried in your phone. Something caught your eye in one of Cass’s posts so you went back to check it out but you couldn’t get a proper look at it so you ignored it for now

  “Hey!” Katie said, popping in front of you and taking your phone from you, “you can’t ignore all these people! They’re here for you”

  “I’m sorry,” you laughed, “I just miss him. And I wanna see what he’s up to”

  “He’s at a party. Just like you. Celebrate with us” she pulled you up and gestured for Diana to come to the dock to watch the fireworks. As soon as everyone sat down at the edge of the dock, feet dangling into the water as they sipped their drinks, you got a notification that Tyler was going live, so you opened the link quickly just to see what was happening, walking up to the house to be able to turn the sound on. You watched as Tyler scanned through the backyard surrounded by family and friends, preparing to go out on a boat to get a better vantage point of his fireworks. You listened as Tyler explained how he was getting married tomorrow and how happy he was to have so much support from those closest to him. Your heart was warm as he expressed how much he loved you, mentioning you by name as much as he could. You were about to close the video and head back to your spot on the dock when you heard a voice say something from beside the camera

  “You’re going to be fully off the market...” Kate said and Tyler moved the camera to show her, “how does it feel? Knowing your whole life is going to change?”

  “Honestly?” he questioned and you scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, “it’s the best feeling. Knowing that I’m going to be with the person I love most. It’s amazing.”

  “Well,” she said, smiling directly at Tyler even though it just seemed like it was into the camera, “I guess congratulations are in order!”

  “That’s what the fireworks are for aren’t they?” They both laughed and you finally decided to close the app and lock your phone. It was such a sweet sentiment but the fact that he didn’t tell you that Kate would be there left a weird taste in your mouth. You completely intended to put it out of your mind, because there didn’t seem to be anything going on other than friendly banter, but you found yourself going back to Cassidy’s story to see if Kate had been there all day or if she just showed up for the fireworks; noticing her in the background of one of the stories and you found yourself back at the table where you wrote your letter to Tyler. You scrolled through both Candace and Cassidy’s posts to see what you could see, resting your left elbow on the table and bringing your hand to your head as you continued to look through everything. After a while, you dropped your phone and put it to the side, looking around you to grab another piece of paper and your hand began to write, as if it were possessed, much more quickly than the original letter. When you had finished everything, you placed the pen to the right of the paper and read through the note; unsure of what you intended to do with it but hiding it in the drawer for the time being.

  “Where did you go?” your phone chimed as Diana’s text came through

  “You’re missing the fireworks!” Lucy’s text read

  “You’re not checking in on Tyler again are you?” Katie asked

  “Hey Bride to be! Come to the dock!” Chris sent

  “If you’re breaking the rules, you’re in trouble!” Karen joked

  “Are you okay?” Ethan asked and your head sank low, thinking about a possible answer to reply with, walking back to the dock when you couldn’t think of anything; Lionel running up to you when you came down the hill. He curled up at your feet and you dropped to kneel beside him, smiling at the comfort he gave before you looked at the group watching the fireworks in front of you.

  “There you are!” Lucy called out and you shrugged as you walked over to her, making sure Lionel was with you.

  “Here I am!” you replied, trying to keep a smile on your face so no one would ask where you were. So you wouldn’t have to say what you were thinking. So you wouldn’t have to mention a fear that everyone told you wasn’t real.

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 9: On-screen Lover

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which Harry struggles with acting for the first time in his life.

Warning: smut.

Word count: 6.1k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Chapter 8: Sweet 25 - Y/N feels alone at Harry’s birthday party.

Wattpad link

A/N: The song mentioned in the chapter is Don't Keep Driving by The Paper Kites. This chapter is also inspired by The Archer by Taylor Swift (this is where all the anxiety comes from).

.

.

.

Squirming in the soft, warm sheets, Y/N rubbed the remainders of sleep from her eyes to greet the rose-pink light of dawn. She supposed this was something most people would consider beautiful, but she didn't. Perhaps waking up grumpy and alone had clouded her judgment.

She slowly sat up, clinging on to the very last memory of the night before, but with little success. She remembered her and Harry drinking in the back of her car after the party. She remembered having sex on this bed — hot, intense, mind-blowing sex, which caused her to think it might've been just a crazy wet dream. Maybe he had never been here, maybe her brain had made everything up. But soon her doubt was washed away as she saw what he'd left on the nightstand.

Y/N lazily brushed her hair into place with her fingers and picked up the pink notebook to find a sticky note attached to the first page.

Morning, baby!

I was supposed to give this to you after my birthday party, but we got carried away and I forgot. Enjoy reading the other notes.

Your one and only,

Harry :)

Curious, Y/N flipped through her journal to find plenty of colorful sticky notes filled with his sloppy, yet adorable, handwriting. For every entry about him, he'd written a little message to retell the event from his point of view. He talked about how he'd felt when they first met in the treehouse, when he lost Thumper, when she kissed him for the first time and ran away...All the things he had wanted to say to her, but never had a chance to. And for her final entry, he'd added a line right next to her last one.

Your girl, always. (Now you're really my girl, always)

That morning, Y/N strolled down the streets of London, looking like she'd just won the lottery. She felt elated, her footsteps were light as a feather as she not only dodged between grumpy morning pedestrians but also said hello to them. She couldn't wait to see Eddie's reaction to her showing up this early. He would probably freak or even throw on a raincoat in case it started raining indoors.

"Good mor—"

"I'm in emotional distress!" Alice cried out the second Y/N walked in. "Harry Styles has a girlfriend!"

Those words froze her to the spot. She looked at Alice with her mouth agape, but Alice didn't give her time to let that sink in. The girl yanked the phone from Eddie, who was sitting quietly behind the counter, and showed Y/N a photo on Twitter.

"This just got released this morning. He was kissing someone at his birthday party last night!"

Y/N peered at the shot, feeling like her chest might explode. Fortunately, it'd been taken with a terrible camera, from a bad angle that you could mostly see Harry's back. But that one poor quality photo was all it took for Harry Styles to trend on Twitter. Fans were going insane and wanted to know the identity of this 'lucky girl'. Some, especially those who shipped him with Ruby, like Alice here, weren't thrilled at all.

"I'm going to kill myself. True love doesn't exist." Alice slammed her hands on the counter and dropped her head on them dramatically.

Eddie seemed concerned, yet too afraid to speak, so he signaled Y/N to say something.

"Hey, Al, I think..." Y/N trailed off as she shrugged off her coat and hung it up. "I think maybe Ruby and Harry are just...you know...normal friends...They're co-stars after all."

Alice groaned even louder, making Eddie roll his eyes. He nudged her with a pen and said, "at least now you know Ruby's not taken."

The girl lifted her contorted face to glare at him. "Oh please, as if one of us has a shot with her!" But then her eyes lit up, and she turned to Y/N. "Hey, you were at the party last night, right?"

"W-what?"

"I saw the story Isaac posted of you eating sushi."

"Oh, yeah." Y/N faked a laugh. "But I didn't see anything. I was in the house most of the time."

"Was Harry talking to someone there more than the others?"

"N-no, he was with his manager the whole night."

"What about Ruby? Was she there?"

Y/N parted her lips to speak, but thankfully, Eddie cut in, "give her a break, Al. She said she didn't know. Now please get to work."

"Fine!" Alice gave him a shrug. "Guess I'll be at the back using the new books to wipe my tears."

"Hey, if you do that I'll cut down your salary, ya hear me?!" Eddie shouted at the girl before turning back to Y/N.

The poor girl was still in shock. After all, it was the first time she'd gone viral. Though nobody had figured out it was her, she knew it was her in the photo, kissing Harry. And he wasn't just her Harry, he also belonged to everyone who knew and loved him. This feeling in the pit of her stomach made her feel sick. Her heart was beating like a drum, and her palms soaked with sweat. She didn't realize she'd spaced out until Eddie's voice pulled her back to reality.

"Y/N! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay." She nodded fast.

Maybe she was naturally good at faking smiles, maybe Eddie was insensible to her feelings. Either way, she was glad he changed the topic.

"You're not gonna be here on Monday, right?" he asked, to her surprise.

It took her a second to realize that he was talking about Celine's wedding. "Right," she confirmed. "I'll be gone for a week."

The man clicked his tongue in frustration as he heard. "Oh God, I hope Alice's mental state will go back to normal soon."

"Has she ever been normal?"

"You're right. She's always been a little off. Now she's just worse." Sighing, Eddie fixed his glasses and went on, "are you going to the wedding alone? If you need a wedding date, I'm always available."

Wedding date. The voice inside her head sighed at those two words. Celine and Amala still thought that Harry would come back to Holmes Chapel with her to attend their wedding. They didn't know that their best friend was too afraid to ask him, for she already knew what the answer would be. There was no way he could squeeze a wedding in his tight schedule.

"I already have a date." She felt bad for lying to Eddie. But since when did she feel bad for lying? Being in love had really changed her.

"Guess I'm gonna have to take my mum to the movies next weekend," Eddie said with a shrug. "But I'm happy for you, Y/N. I showed up at my aunt's wedding alone and they put me in the kids' table. You wouldn't want that."

"Maybe because you look like one."

"Shut up!" The man waved her off and fixed his glasses. "Okay, get to work. I have to make sure Alice's not crying on my new books."

"Okay, love you, Ed!"

"You don't!"

Eddie had just walked away when Yellow by Coldplay blasted from Y/N's pocket. She didn't need to check who it was, because she'd set that ringtone especially for him.

"Hi." A corner of her mouth lifted as she could feel him smirking on the phone. "They gave us a five-minute break and I miss you," said Harry. His voice was raspy and low, so she imagined him hiding somewhere to make this call. The thought of them being secretive and sneaky when in public always excited her. She loved to think of them as the modern Romeo and Juliet, of course, minus the dying part.

Y/N rested her elbow on the countertop as she held the phone at her ear. "I miss you too," she said, grinning. "Saw your little surprise this morning. I loved it."

"I knew you would." He chuckled lowly. "Have you read any of my notes?"

"Just a few. I'll read the rest when I get home."

"Good." Again, the sound of his stupid smirk made the butterflies in her stomach soar. She found herself picking at the wood and chewing on her lip, like a nervous fourteen-year-old talking to her crush on the phone.

She hated to ruin this happy moment for them, but her anxiety didn't let her enjoy it fully. "Hey, baby," Y/N lowered her voice. "Have you seen the photo?"

"Yeah." He breathed. She could imagine his smile slowly fading. "It's awfully blurry though. No one knows it's you."

"It's taken from inside the house, H."

"I know. My team's trying to find out who took it. I bet it's the Declan twins."

Or Ruby, Y/N thought to herself, but decided not to say it aloud.

"Don't worry, kid. Whoever took that photo probably didn't even know it was you, or else they would've told the whole world already. Everything's fine."

Though Harry sounded calm, she didn't know for sure if that was how he actually felt. However, there was nothing she could do now but to leave it all to him. She'd signed up for this, and now she had to go with the flow.

"Hey, I have something to tell you," she changed the subject. This might not be the best time to pop the question, but since Eddie had brought up the whole 'wedding date' thing, she thought it wouldn't hurt to just ask. "So I'm going back to Holmes Chapel in two days, and I'll stay there for a week for Celine and Amala's wedding."

"You already told me that." He chuckled.

"Yeah, but...like..." Just say it, God damn it! "Would you like to go with me?"

"Back home?"

"I mean...yeah...Would you like to come as my...wedding date? I mean, only if you're free next weekend."

There was a long pause. And his answer was exactly what she had expected. "I'm really sorry, love," he said with a heavy sigh. What came next, however, was completely out of nowhere. "I'll be in Paris for the next two weeks."

"P-Paris?" She felt a lump in a throat and struggled to release the words from her mouth. "You'll be in Paris for what?"

"We're filming some scenes there. I'm...I'm actually...leaving in two days. I was going to tell you last night but..."

Two days?!

"How long have you known about this?"

"Uh..."

"Harry!"

"S-since the first day we started shooting."

His answer felt like an ice bucket in the face for her. She was surprised she hadn't hung up on him yet. "So you've known since the day we officially got together and kept it from me this whole time?"

"No, that's not—" He stopped himself with a hiss. "The trip was supposed to be at the end of next month, but they've made a few changes—"

"I don't care if it's next week or next month! You knew, and you didn't tell me!"

"I'm really sorry." His voice lowered. "Are you...are you mad at me?"

"I'm not," she said, staring at the ceiling.

"Really?" he questioned as if testing the water. "Because I'm pretty mad at myself."

"Look, it's fine. We'll talk more about it tonight, okay?"

"Promise you're not mad at me?"

"Harry..."

"Promise me, please!"

"Fine! I promise I'm not mad at you." Y/N exhaled. She wished she could be mad at him, but then again, people who were in love didn't feel and think the way normal people did in certain situations. With this man, Y/N knew she had gone too far from being sane.

"Good," Harry happily said, probably wearing that boyish grin that she adored. "Now say you love me."

"I love you. Gosh, you're such a baby sometimes."

"I love you too, Bambi," he responded with a light chuckle. "See you at home."

It was the first time he'd referred to her cheap flat as 'home'. He probably didn't even think when he said it. Still, it meant so much to her. It made her feel secure even though this was the most insecure position she had ever been in. And so she kept replaying the word in her head and telling herself that everything would be just fine.

.

.

.

Harry stepped into the shower, fully clothed, toes flinching as they touched the cool tiled floor. His mind was in shreds as he watched the drops trickled down her bare back and slowly looked up to meet her questioning stare. Guilt washed over him like a tidal wave, but he refused to acknowledge it.

Ruby didn't say a word, not asking him to leave, not asking him to stay. She turned her head and resumed bathing her skin gently, letting the lukewarm water darken her hair. The unfamiliar melody she was humming got Harry distracted as he stepped forward, and circled his strong arms around her little waist. He pulled her in, pressing her naked form firmly against his clothed chest. Now his face and neck were flushed, not just because of the steamy shower.

The ex-lover ran her hands across his arms and her body shuddered at his slightest touch. Slowly, she turned around, their eyes met once again. The air almost drained out of his lungs as he finally found the courage to reach for her face. His fingertips followed the water streaming down her cheeks to her neck, then her shoulders and her arms. Ruby breathed out gently as goosebumps pimpled her skin.

Her voice was soft. "I thought you wouldn't come back."

"I...I had to," Harry faltered. "I missed you...so much."

She gave him a bashful smile and then guided his hands to her hips. "I know you did," she said contently.

Without breaking their eye contact, she began to unbutton his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. Her palms smoothed across the tattoos on his chest, the ones that she'd touched and kissed and tasted too many times before. As she lifted her face, Harry lowered his head.

"Take me," she murmured, her lips ghosting over his. "Show me how much you missed me."

His entire body was on fire, but it wasn't the kind of burn that brought him comfort. Now he was gawking at the naked girl without blinking. Shit. What was he supposed to say next?

"Cut!"

Harry snapped back to reality as all the lights came on and the director told the whole crew to take five. As he followed Ruby out of the shower, two girls from her team came with a big towel to help her get dry and into her robe. The ones on his team tried to do the same to him, but he waved them off and took the towel to do it himself.

"Mon Dieu! What's going on between you two?" asked the French lady in the quirky satin dress as she pointed to Ruby, her eyes on him. "Do you hate her?"

"N-no, I—"

"Then stop acting like you do!" she cried out. "Harry, sweetheart, I love you to death but that was terrible! You were supposed to be her amant, the lover who kept coming back every time she pushed you away! You were supposed to love her more than anything in this world! That wasn't what I saw back there. It felt like she loved you completely and you didn't even want to be with her."

"I'm sorry, Eva. I'll...I'll fix it."

"Non!" The director shook her head. "You cannot do that alone. Both of you, talk to each other and work things out! We'll shoot another scene later and will do this scene again tomorrow."

"But—"

"Early lunch for everyone else!"

As Eva ignored Harry and walked off, he was left alone with Ruby and their gigantic problem. She was wearing the biggest frown, so he expected her to come at him with a her most ruthless comments. But no, she calmly took the towel around his neck and began to help him dry his hair and his face.

Flustered, he pushed her hands away. "It's...it's okay. I can do it myself."

Ruby froze for a second. Her eyes narrowed as she shoved the towel back in his hands. That was how he knew this conversation would not turn out the way their director wanted.

"Look into my eyes and be honest with me," she spoke with her arms crossed. "Do you hate me?"

"No."

"Because if you do, you should say it aloud so we can get it over with."

"I don't hate you." He breathed into his palm and shoved that hand into his damp hair. "But after what happened last night, I don't know if I even want to be around you anymore."

"What I said was wrong, but those were just harmless words!" She rolled her eyes and soon noticed the change in his expression. "Go ahead," said the actress, to his surprise. "I know what you're thinking, so go ahead and say it."

"Did you take that photo?"

"Fuck you," she spat, but made sure not to draw any attention in this room to them. "Look what she's done to you, H. You're worrying about her way too much that it starts to affect everything you do."

"She hasn't done anything to me," he grumbled as she was getting on his nerves. "But what have you done to yourself? Why are you so hateful now? I moved on and I'm in love. Why can't you just be happy for me and fucking accept that?"

Though Ruby appeared unbothered by those words, both of them knew they had never hit her harder. Even so, she didn't allow herself to look vulnerable.

"How you feel about me, and how I feel about you and that girl have nothing to do with this," she asserted, anger overtook her face. "Yes, I'm still in love with you, and I think you two are bad for each other because she will ruin your career. But when the camera starts rolling, we aren't you and me anymore, we're Elia and Jay. So if Jay cannot love Elia because Harry's afraid his little girlfriend can't handle a simple sex scene, then maybe Harry's a terrible actor and should consider giving the role to someone more deserving."

And then she stormed off, leaving him standing there with the damage her cruel and thoughtless words had done.

.

.

.

When Y/N answered the call from her boyfriend, she knew right away that he was drunk. He greeted her with the loudest "I love you, my sweet Bambi!" and jabbered away just to hang up because he needed to pee. A few missed calls and unread messages later, he finally made it back to her place.

He stumbled into the flat with his hair a mess and his shirt half-untucked. The first thing he did was wrap his arms around her waist. The words "I miss you" and "I'm sorry" poured endlessly from his lips. Though drunk, he still remembered how she felt about him visiting her so late and plastered.

Last year, he'd told her that alcohol used to be his coping mechanism. Once he'd started, he didn't know how to stop. Each drink seemed like a better idea, his jokes got funnier and he could flirt with any woman he fancied. He felt more charming and witty and invincible. That was why for months after his scandalous break up with Ruby, he'd had a drinking problem which he'd proudly called therapy. And Y/N guessed it had happened again today. Something bad had happened to him at work and he needed to feel better about himself. It saddened her that he'd chosen alcohol instead of coming home and talking to her.

With a six-foot man glued to her front, Y/N struggled to reach the door and lock it with one hand. His grip around her waist tightened as he hummed into her neck, making her think he would pass out, but then he said, "I kissed her and she was naked...and I didn't like it at all..."

The little confession froze her to the spot. Y/N swallowed as she pulled away and her arms came around his neck, bringing his forehead to hers. "Kiss who? Ruby?"

He nodded with hooded eyes. "I don't wanna hurt you, but I made everyone angry. Do you...do you think...I'm a bad actor?"

"No, of course not." She cupped his flushed cheeks. Although she didn't fully understand the story, she could guess most of it. Now a part of her felt guilty knowing she was the reason he couldn't do his job. He even assumed it was his fault, that he was bad at something he'd been passionate about for most of his life.

"Wait on the couch, I'll draw you a bath," she said, changing the subject, but he kept on nuzzling her neck and refused to let her go.

"What's it that you use?" he asked quietly. "You smell like...like my mother's garden in the spring."

His lovely comparison made her smile. "That's what you would smell like if you were sober and clean."

"I am sober and clean!"

"No, you're not. You need a bath or you'll be sleeping on the couch tonight."

"Will you join me?" He puckered up his lips while slightly tugging at her t-shirt. "Take this off. Get naked and join me."

"Harry..."

"Please? I'll be good. You don't have to fuck me."

Her mouth twitched in amusement as he brushed his nose against hers. She had just taken a shower before he arrived, but a warm bath didn't sound like a bad idea. After all, she desperately needed to get rid of the smell of alcohol on her body.

Taking his hand, she led him to the bathroom and asked him to wait for her to return with some clothes and towels. However, he didn't listen and ended up following her around like a lost puppy. As they waited for the tub to get filled, he sat on the edge with her and tried to braid her hair. The steam helped sober him up, so by the time they finished taking off their clothes, he had become more self-aware.

Y/N sat between his legs, with her back against his chest and her head on his shoulder. She'd made it clear that they were both too exhausted to have sex, but once his fingers had found her clit, her moans encouraged him to continue. The next thing she knew, she was riding him. His head tilted back on his neck, and small grunts snuck passed his lips every time she sunk back down on him, fucking him slow and steady.

It started out as sweet love-making, until Harry couldn't take it anymore and gripped her hips, driving himself into her. She clung to the back of his neck with one hand, the other smacked flat to the tile wall above his head as he thrust harder, sloshing more water out of the tub. She was the first to come, shouting his name as his body tightened and his cock twitched against her sensitive walls. She rode him through his orgasm until there was nothing left of them but heavy limps, numb fingertips, and fireworks exploding in their minds.

Harry panted and bit down lightly on her shoulder as he recovered. Her eyes slowly opened and took in the sight of him chewing on his delicious lip, his brows puckered up, and his eyes lazy. She watched the tiny beads racing down his handsome face, not sure if it was sweat or their bathwater, but she knew they would have to draw another bath.

"No, Harry, I can't. I'm too tired," he mocked and his softened penis slipped out of her, making they both groan.

"You do that voice again and you'll be sucking your own dick," she warned him, her nose scrunched up. The threat made Harry chuckle as he pulled her in and kissed her twice on the mouth.

While waiting for Harry to refill the tub, Y/N went to get her phone and put her playlist on shuffle. She put the phone in a cup, placed it on the sink before joining Harry in the water again. They sat in the same position with her back against his chest.

The light in Y/N's bathroom was bright and sterile, lacking even a trace of warmth. That was why she normally hated to look at herself in her bathroom mirror. All the scars she'd got growing up would shine like a beacon under this light, and then she'd be reminded that she wasn't his perfect girl. But tonight, she wanted to stay here forever with him so he could caress all the places she hated on her body.

Half of this city turning their lights on Like half of this city has an idea Cars slowly passing right down on main street Don't keep on driving, let me say something

"What's the name of this song?" he asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Don't Keep Driving by The Paper Kites," she said with a beam. "You love it?"

He gave her a nod and nibbled at her earlobe. "It's a good song. Makes me feel like I'm driving around the city at night while it's raining."

"Exactly!" She brightened. "I listened to it on repeat while we were apart last year."

"Does it remind you of me?"

His question made her smile. Still, she never answered.

There's nothing wrong with a little space But not right now, don't leave There's nothing wrong with a little time But for the memories, for the good things Don't leave

"Did you write me those notes to make up for the Paris thing?" she asked all of a sudden.

He gave her a nod, but then realized she was facing away from him, so he spoke, "yeah."

"Hmm." Not the response he was hoping to hear.

"Have you read them all?" he went on to make sure she wasn't upset.

She didn't sound upset when she said, "not yet, I'm saving them for when you're not here."

"I'll video-call you every night to see your reaction when you read them."

His chest felt a thousand times lighter when her giggle softened the room, as if her gentle sound could turn this cold light golden and the water warmer.

His heart was full again, but at the same time, he couldn't ignore the melancholy feeling sinking in. He knew that he would miss her a lot when he was away. Two weeks wasn't a long time, but for a relationship as fragile as theirs, it could feel as long as two months or even two years. Who knew what would happen during those two weeks? They had a lot to lose now that they had each other.

Don't leave me Call me Turn around, turn around now Don't run away from me Don't leave, don't leave

The song went on, coming to an end, but its last words were still echoing in his head.

.

.

.

Harry had stayed up all night to mentally prepare himself to reshoot the sex scene. Even though Y/N had reassured him that she trusted him and understood that it was just for his role, he felt as if his lungs were on fire as he stepped into the shower and ran his hands all over his ex's body. But because Ruby continued to give him the silent treatment, he gave a better performance this time and didn't have to reshoot the scene.

Maybe he'd lulled himself into thinking if he didn't interact with Ruby off-camera, then it wouldn't feel like he was cheating on his girlfriend. But how was this fair to Y/N at all? If he were her, he wouldn't be able to stand someone else touching her the way Ruby had touched him, for a movie scene or not. Knowing his girl, he knew that even if his job did bother her, she wouldn't admit it to make him worried. That, unfortunately, made him a thousand times more anxious.

Last night, while drinking alone, he'd thought a lot about what Ruby had said. Though she was wrong about Y/N, she was right about most things, one of which was, he and Y/N might not be right for each other. At least, he might not be right for her. That thought came and went several times since he'd woken up, but he kept brushing it off. Because the last thing he needed right now was self-doubt. He'd struggled so hard to make her his, and now he was afraid that he didn't deserve to have her. That sounded absurd, stupid even. Still, he kept pondering it.

It was around 3 AM when he finished his last scene of the (previous) day. His plane to Paris departed at six-fifteen and he had to be at the airport at five, which gave him less than two hours to rest before the flight. As he got in the car, he immediately phoned his assistant to get his luggage ready and bring it to the airport. Then he asked his driver to take him to Y/N's place.

He had texted her in the afternoon that he might head straight to the airport after finishing work, and also promised to call her when he arrived in Paris. That had been the plan before he changed his mind at the last minute. He couldn't stand leaving without a proper goodbye. For such an emergency, he was glad she'd given him the key to her place. He didn't have to wake her up when he arrived.

Pulling his hoodie over his head, he went to her room, trying not to make a sound, but she had heard him come in and was already staring at the door, expecting him. She watched him take off his jeans, leaving only his t-shirt and boxers on as he slid under the duvets and cuddled her. Though her eyes were red from the lack of sleep, she was smiling, content, and at the same time, wondering.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the airport?" she asked.

"Not yet," he replied, kissing her forehead. "I'll hold you for a moment, and then I'll go."

He expected a cheeky response, but his Bambi didn't make another sound. She was just happy with the fact that he was here, so it didn't take her too long to fall back to sleep. Harry, on the other hand, couldn't close his eyes. Even though he'd set an alarm on his phone, he was wide awake and staring at the ceiling. He feared that if he took some rest, time would fly much faster, then goodbye would come much faster, and he had to leave much faster. He wasn't ready yet.

Lying still, he focused on the sound of her breathing and counted the number of times she talked in her sleep. Eleven in total. She never made sense, but he thought it was endearing because each time she spoke, she would shift closer to him. As time and space slowed down around them, unexpectedly came an ominous thought. Would she be happier if she had stayed with Isaac?

If she'd stayed with Isaac, she wouldn't have to wake up alone, she would never have to worry about her boyfriend making out with someone else and calling it acting, and she would've been able to kiss him in front of his friends at his birthday party. Scared by the thought, he squeezed her tighter. But that was also when the buzzing of his phone told him it was time for him to go.

He tried to be as careful as he could to sneak out without waking her up, but it wasn't his fault that Y/N was sensitive to the quietest noise. Slowly, she stirred awake and sat up as he did. Her voice tore down the gloomy silence of the room.

"Stay with me."

He looked over his shoulder and his heart almost broke when he saw her face. He'd never seen her like this, at least not when she was sober. His girl was tough and independent, and she'd never begged for his attention. But now she was clinging onto him like a little octopus, her face in his neck. He wished he could stay, but sadly, he wasn't the one to decide.

"I have to go now, love."

"No." She shook her head, pouting slightly. He was caught off guard when she snuck her fingers into his boxers and slowly stroked his hardened length up and down.

"Bambi, no." He gasped, his nostrils flared and so did his pupils. Quickly, he seized her wrist and groaned when the warmth of her soft hand left his erection, but he knew if he hadn't stopped her he'd give in and missed that Goddamn flight.

"I'll make it up to you when I get back, baby. I promise," he said, watching her lie back down and cover her face with both hands.

"It's gonna be the longest two weeks of my life," she groaned.

He rubbed her knee, scooting back to the center of the bed and sat with his legs crossed. She propped herself up on her elbow, now lying on her side, looking at him. In this orange bedroom light, her skin looked so warm, and her eyes so dark. He reached out and touched her face, stroking her bottom lip with his thumb. She was hypnotizing him with those sweet doe eyes, her ultimate weapon that got her exactly what she wanted and how she wanted. He had never won a battle against them before.

"What are you—"

"Shh."

Getting on his knees, he lifted her thighs and spread her legs. She was bare under the oversized t-shirt, already glistening and ready for him. He pressed a delicate kiss to her inner thigh, so close to where she needed him the most as his eyes fixated on her, taking in the breathtaking sight of his love with her head tossed back, her eyes shut and mouth agape. If only his mind could take pictures of her looking like this and save them for when he was alone in a different city.

"Harry, please, make me come."

And he'd miss this too, the way she moaned his name and begged for his touch. Smirking, he took her hands which were gripping the pillow and guided them to his hair. "Show me how you want it," he ordered, his breath made her hips buck in his face and she tugged hard, just like he'd asked her to. Who was he to deny her then?

He began with a closed-mouth kiss, followed by a wet and messier one before his tongue stroked into her, lapping at her moisture. Her heat tightened when he pulled away, his mouth returned to her clit as he worked two fingers in and out of her. The slippery sounds were driving her insane. She was a delicious mess when he held her down and lapped his tongue skillfully, not letting her arousal go to waste. Y/N had never come this hard and fast, she thought she might've passed out for a second. Her fists were tight against his skull, but he loved it, he let her ride his face and fingers until she was too spent and delirious to even flinch.

"Oh, shit..."

Harry broke into laughter as he crawled up to attach their lips for a dirty kiss, letting her have a taste of herself before he pulled back to admire her face.

"Hi." He grinned, his dimples were more prominent in the hazy bedroom light. She loved his dimples. She loved his smile. She loved this face. She loved him. When he pulled away and helped her up, her stomach clenched in the most unpleasant way.

He carried her to the bathroom. She hated when he picked her up like a child, but she didn't have a choice as her knees were too weak for her to walk on her own. After getting her cleaned up, they returned to the bedroom and he began putting on his clothes. She sat on the edge of the bed in silence, watching the man she loved get dressed. He wore that black hoodie she'd got for him because she didn't want him to get cold on the plane. She knew he'd got plenty of hoodies that were more expensive and could keep him warm much better. She'd only wanted an excuse to buy him clothes. At least now he could carry her warmth with him to another country.

She walked him to the door. Her heart sank lower to his every step and when he turned back to kiss her goodbye. She held him tightly, arms locked around his neck, inhaling his scent for the last time before he went.

"I love when you're like this." He chuckled. "So clingy."

"Shut up," she rasped, but not letting go. "Call me when you get to the hotel?"

"I will. I love you so much."

"I love you more."

For every single 'I love you's they'd said to each other until now, they had always meant it. But this time, they meant it more than ever. Y/N supposed normal couples didn't say goodbye this way. Some didn't even bother to say goodbye at all when one of them went away for only two weeks. But normal couples didn't have to hide from the rest of the world nor face the never-ending fear of losing each other for the hundredth time. Maybe one day, they could be one of those normal couples. But right now, this was all they got.

After sending him out of the door, Y/N went back inside so she didn't have to watch him leave. It would break her heart and she'd burst into tears and made a fool out of herself.

Telling himself the same thing, Harry rushed down the stairs and didn't look back, not even once.

[gayregis]

I love your thoughts and opinions so so so much. It’s nice to see someone being thoughtful and critical about issues that come up within the fandom so often. I know a lot of people don’t like seeing things they enjoy criticized, but your perspectives are very refreshing.

thank you 😭😭 i sometimes feel annoying / get criticized for having a lot of critique like this but i feel like to have a healthy relaitonship with the media you consume is to be open to criticizing it and saying “yeah that part sucked and added nothing to the story,” “yeah this adaptation sucked and ruined the messages,” “let’s dissect the meaning of the story and its ending and figure out what the author is trying to argue here.”

in my opinion every (good) fiction story is an argument disguised as a non-argument, it’s up to the readers to decipher what the author’s message and meaning is in it. and if they disagree with the argument they should form an opinion and rebuttal. and if there is no argument or the argument was misrepresented through a poor adaptation, the fans should rightfully be upset because that argument was important to why they like the series.

when i criticize the witcher and any other media that i like (because i do this in whatever fandom im in) it’s really from a place of caring deeply about what is being represented and how people are engaging with it. i’m not here to police other fans, that’s stupid, but i think creators have a responsibility to not produce junk that influences people in a poor way.

as well as for the minor things like preferences over characters, i just find it fun to explain why i like or dislike a certain character/scene and why, or how you interpret certain characters/scenes with deeper meaning and symbolism. it’s fun to post your opinions about things because some people will agree and some people will disagree and then you get into a conversation about it. some people find things in scenes that you would have never even considered because they have a different worldview than you

and sometimes i just like to critique stuff because i genuinely just dislike it or hate it and there’s not that much deeper meaning to it. like regis’ hairline in blood and wine. why did cdpr have to do that to him? it looks terrible.

again thank you though because sometimes i get self-concious and i feel bad because i feel like i’m being really negative while everyone else can manage to like stuff without voicing a negative opinion. but i think that sometimes others are scared to voice negative opinions because they just want to go with the flow and fit in with the rest of the group who agree with them, no one wants to stand out and be known as a bitch. i used to feel like this a lot but i was inspired by others in other communities to not be afraid to speak up and be a bitch if i feel like it! it’s not a bad thing to have a negative opinion, as long as you don’t harass others for not sharing your opinion.

[thethousandyearwitch]

“Tumblr Cultings” another Shitpost fic.

Hisoka is a ~~Tumblr Influencer~~ and decides to start drama. 1334 Words. 

fanfiction.net link

Click. Clack. Click. Hisokas nails tapped quickly against his phone screen. "Tonight it's going down. I have had e-nough of a certain person here, and all of you deserve to know who and why! ~ ♠️ " Post. He didn't have to wait long before the familiar pings and blops of instant messages and questions asked to his blog started.

Anonymous: Who is it?? (≧▽≦) So excited to see you tear someone a new one!! IM from cutiepanther: where do u even get your info from lol?. IM from chaineddown: I Thought You Were Done Creating Drama For Attention. 

Hisoka snickers to himself, lazily grabbing another whiteclaw from the fridge, before retreating to his bedroom desk. He takes a first sip of his drink while opening his laptop, and quickly going on tumblr.com once it has finished setting up. @Bubblegumbitch, 20.879 followers. 7.344 posts. 27 new asks, 7 new IMs. With a satisfied sigh, the popular blogger sets down his can, and cracks his knuckles.

YouTube Influencers make a lot of money through ad-revenue. Instagram influencers hold themselves over water with sponsorships. And though Hisoka did hold a platform on both of these as well, he preferred the more traditional customs of the blogging site. You don't get paid for having a lot of followers, or making popular posts, and sponsorships are almost entirely unheard of.  But he wasn't in it for the money anyway. The drama was far more alluring. Hisoka had made his starts as a "Tumblr influencer" through creating blog layouts, masterposts of custom themes, and the occasional "funny" post, which was usually just him vagueing about someone that pissed him off that day. His first call-out post he wrote at 7k followers, calling out a far bigger blogger than he is for stealing codes for their theme and for kinning a character from a TV show that has generally been frowned upon on Tumblr for being "atrocious and a bad influence". No one likes to admit it, but everyone loves a little drama, don't they? To see someone else's dirty laundry aired out, the relief that it isn't their own, the community effort of shutting someone out of their reigns for one simple post. A satisfied Huff escapes Hisoka as he dwells in this lovely memory. Time to make a new one.

"CALLOUT POST for @spidershead13 I can't believe I would ever have to do this for someone like him, but Chrollo has definitely pushed it too far~. Definitely don't harrass him, just unfollow and block his sorry ass!~ ♣️ ."

Excitiment starts to bubble under Hisokas skin. In truth, of course, Chrollo did nothing horribly wrong, nothing at least that Hisoka could proof. But everyone likes good drama between popular blogs that follow different themes. If this post could rile him up enough to write a callout post for Hisoka in return- Blop. IM from porcelaincat: Hisoka. Oh no, the fun police. Bubblegumbitch: Yeeeees?~ ♥️ Porcelaincat: Are you not too old to start petty fights online? Bubblegumbitch: OUCH. ♠️ Bubblegumbitch: I stay young at heart, dear.~ Porcelaincat: 1) Gross. 2). Who are you bullying this time? Bubblegumbitch: Chrollo @spiderhead13 :o) Porcelaincat: I am surprised, I honestly did not take you for that stupid. My fault.

Ouch. Illumi never cared if he was hurting feelings. Maybe he should write the call-out post about Hisoka. Though Hisoka doesn't have any viable dirt on him, not yet at least, not until he finds that porn blog that hes SURE Illumi has hidden away somewhere. Whatever, fuck that guy and his voice of reason. Hisoka takes another gulp of his whiteclaw, and goes back to typing.

"It has come to my attention, that multiple people have had the same unpleasant experience with Chrollo, something you cannot let slide so easily~." 

(Multiple people meaning one fake blog that he himself created to write himself IM messages "receipts".)

"In the following screenshots, one person tells me about how Chrollo tried to convince them to come visit him in Newyork and joins his 'church'! That's right, the guys a cult leader, trying to lure in more people from here!~ (Blogname in the Screenshots is blacked out for anonymitys sake ofc)."

Was he going too far, trying to convince everyone that Chrollo was a Cult leader probably out to harvest their organs? Or was he not going far enough

"Not sure what everyone was expecting of a goth blog like his, posting all that ~deep~ and ~brooding~ stuff, but pleeaaaseee stay clear of him now, don't let yourselves get pulled into some scary cult bs~ ♦️ .

#callout #calloutpost #internetbloodsports #cult. "

And post. Hisoka spins excitedly in his chair, self satisfied with his own hubris.  Immediately more blops and pings storm in. Anonymous: I knew chrollo was a weirdo, mayor bad vibes ಠωಠ Anonymous: thank you for talking about this, honestly scary!!!!! Spiderslegtostandon: What is your damage? Hisoka chuckles. Now only to wait for- IM from spidershead13: Hello. Chrollos timing was as usual, perfect. Bubblegumbitch: Why hello~~~~ ♠️ Spidershead13: I believe we need to talk about whatever that post was. Hisoka glances at the notes, a steady stream of likes and reblogs flowing in. Damage control is gonna be hard for the opposing side.

Bubblegumbitch: Sorry, I believe I'm just warning the people about you~. Didn't take you for such a dangerous guy :o( Spidershead13: Can you give me the @ of the person sending you those messages? Obviously they must have gotten something wrong. I'd never Invite just anyone to come over here, and I'd also never force my beliefs on anyone. Bubblegumbitch: Sorry, no can do. Who says you're not going to doxx em~. ♠️ I don't want to be responsible for putting someone in danger more than they already are~.

The influencer was now just leaning back in his chair, taking in a cool nights-breeze flowing in from the window. Was Chrollo mad? He's sure he'd want to punch him right now. What will he start Hisokas call-out with? Who would people believe more? It was all so exciting.

Spidershead13: Hisoka, this is nothing to joke about. I don't want to loose the trust of my community. I want to clear my name. Bubblegumbitch: if you can proof that I, or my informant has lied, I won't stop you from trying.~ ♣️ Spidershead13: Is this another childish game to you? Bubblegumbitch: A game? I take public safety extremely serious!~ :o(

No reply for 10 minutes. Hisoka bites his bottomlip, basking in the excitement of the unknown next moves of Chrollo. He was unpredictable, and thats what made him fun to toy with. If he was simply out to ruin someone's blogging experience, he could have cherry picked any one popular blog, dig long enough for dirt, and run them off the site in less than 2 hours. But that's predictable, that's normal, where's the fun in that?

Ping. Anonymous: Where's the Call-out?? Did you bitch out? Huh? Anonymous: did you delete the post? Was about to forward it to some friends who r mutuals with chrollo Pardon? Hisoka check his blog, and behold- The post is gone. Wooshed away, as the site itself would annoyingly proclaim. Did the site glitch out and delete it? Is it simply not displaying the post? 

Spidershead13: So you did fake those screenshots, I assume. The URL in your IMs leads to an empty blog with the same IP address as you Spidershead13: I did not take you for someone who'd stoop that low. Bubblegumbitch: Hahaha what did you DO?~ ♠️  ♠️ ♠️ ♠️ ♠️ Spidershead13: Had a friend of mine 'check' your blog. He was also nice enough to delete the post for you already.

Hisoka blinks. Once. Then twice. He's been hacked. This was going even better than he had anticipated. Quickly he screenshots the conversation, before hitting "New Textpost". " !!!I'VE BEEN HACKED BY @SPIDERSHEAD13!!!! [Screenshot] #callout #callout post #internbloodsports #hacker"

Post.

Ping. Blop. Blop. Blop. Ping. This was going to be a long, delicious night.

[deans-baby-momma]

Rebel Without A Cause- Ch 16

A/N: For those of you who didn’t get to see the NSFW document that I can not post on Tumblr, here is the link for that. 

Dean Winchester is a certified goddamn asshole! Plain and simple. He had been cognizant of how she had been treated growing up, yet he still used her for his own entertainment. What Maggie had thought was a connection and sweet intimacy had just been another way for him to have his fun. Maggie had felt loved, cherished, and treasured when what conspired between them was nothing but carnal coitus, pure fornication. Him allowing that man, the drummer of the band, to watch as they had sex was more than Maggie could handle.

She isn't a prude, although some might think she is from her style and behavior, but knowing that there had been an audience when she was at her most vulnerable is unsettling; him knowing that they were being watched, painful. 

The tears flowed the whole way back to her motel and as soon as she gets into her room she stripped her clothing, planning to burn the offending garments and takes a shower with the water as hot as she could stand. Maggie scrubs until her skin is raw, all the while the tears keep streaming down her face. She swears that she’s going back to work, telling Mr. Singer that she isn't able to get the story he wants, and if she loses her job then so be it.

ONE MONTH LATER

Maggie’s cell rings again for the thousandth time in a week. She refuses to answer, knowing who’s on the other end.

Since her story had been published, her phone rang constantly. Publishers of other daily and weekly magazines offering jobs and positions at their facilities. She had been answering those and politely declining the proposals. But then this one number kept calling; it was one she had happily-at the time- added to her contact list. Now, she regretted ever exchanging that information with Dean fucking Winchester.

She silences her phone and goes back to typing up her article for the Trans-Siberian Orchestra concert she had attended just the night before. After he got her feature story on the Winchester Sex Bombs, Mr. Singer had begun giving her editorials and feature pieces for entertainment expositions that were more her preference. Each article had received high praise from the public and Mr. Singer decided to keep her on staff. 

He claimed not to be upset with the review on the Connecticut concert that she had turned in, but Maggie could tell her boss was not too happy with the picture that she had painted with her harsh words.

Jessica, the receptionist for the Ft. Garrison News, knocks on the wall before entering Maggie’s cubicle. “Hey,” the blonde says, smiling. 

“Hey, Jess,” Maggie acknowledges. “What’s up?” She takes a moment to look up from her tablet to see the blonde holding a stack of notes. 

Jessica Moore was working while going to college to become a personal injury lawyer, which Maggie found out over coffee in the breakroom one day. She had spoken to Jessica when she went to refill her cup and was feeling out of place since Jo was no longer speaking to her. 

After her story had been written up, Maggie had asked Jo to go out for drinks and in a drunken rage, had told her everything- even about catching the drummer getting off to them,  causing Jo to get extremely jealous and had quit speaking to her. 

“These are yours,” Jess tells her as she hands the stack of notes to Maggie. “Some guy keeps calling for you. He doesn't leave a message, just says you know who he is and to please call. He’s been calling every hour for days.”

Maggie takes the papers and places them on her desk. “Thanks, Jess. I’ll call as soon as I’m done here.”

Maggie glares at her phone as the ringtone fills the air. She knew he wasn’t going to give up until she answered so she took a sip of coffee and picked the device up, sliding the little green arrow across the screen.

“Margaret Fitzgerald speaking.”

“Mags, sweetheart,” Dean’s voice glides through the earpiece. “You are one hard woman to get ahold of.” She could hear the smile in his speech. She also knew that she was about to take that smile right off his face.

“What do you want, Dean?”

“A chance to talk, to apologize. I fucked up. I know I did. Just give me a chance to explain.”

“So explain. Tell me why you thought it’d be a good idea to let your drummer watch us while we had sex?”

“That isn’t a conversation for the phone, sweetheart.”

His voice echoed as Maggie looked up to see Dean standing in front of her, his phone still held to his ear. She lowered her phone, turning it off and stared at him. She couldn’t believe he had come all this way just to talk to her. Dean slides his phone into his pocket and sits down in the chair across from her and put his elbows on the table between them.

“What do you want, Dean?” Maggie asks, exasperated. She can’t believe he has actually traveled all this way to come to talk to her.

Before Dean answers though, a female voice rings out. “Oh. My. God. You’re Dean Winchester!”

Maggie looks over to the entryway of the break room to see Jo practically vibrating with excitement. She rolls her eyes as Jo makes her way to their table, adjusting her shirt to pull the top down a little lower. “Hi,” she says as she comes to a still next to Maggie.

“Hello,” Dean says, clearly annoyed that they had been interrupted. But then he straightens up and puts a fake smile on his face. Although he is wearing sunglasses Maggie is sure that his dark olive eyes are full of irritation. She hides her amusement at his discomfort behind her mug. 

Jo’s apparent display of fangirlism thrills Maggie as she watches her co-worker try her damnedest to keep Dean’s attention but the lead singer only has eyes for Maggie. After getting an autograph and a one-armed hug, Jo retreats from the break room but not before throwing an envious look over her shoulder at Maggie.  

“So, sweetheart,” Dean grabs her attention. “Can we talk about that rather unflattering piece you put out about my band?” 

Maggie sits her coffee mug onto the table and leans forward. “First off, I ain’t your sweetheart. Secondly, everything I said in that article was the truth. I’m sorry that I’m not one of your groupies who just overlooks your blatant disregard for others and will just spout out praise and compliments. Yea your music is good, I said that in my piece but the actions afterward overshadow everything on stage.”

“Swee-Mags….what will it take to change your mind? What can I do?”

“There is absolutely nothing you can do, Dean,” Maggie says, leaning forward onto the table. “You let him watch us!” she angrily whispers. “You knew I had issues with my self-awareness. You know my mom and Lisa chipped away my dignity. You heard their condescending remarks, you saw how it affected me but you still let your friend witness what I thought was something private, something personal between us. So no, there is absolutely nothing you can do to make me retract my story. If that is the only reason you came all this way, then I’m sorry you wasted your time.”

Dean leans forward and whispers,”And what if I tell you Lisa is the reason that I no longer have sex with just one person?”

Maggie balks at that. Is he trying to get her pity? Using her contention with her sister as a way to weasel out an explanation? She shakes her head and sits back, crossing her arms.

“Dean, don’t,” she says, the tears she is so desperately trying to cover evident. “Don’t say that. Don’t use that as an excuse. You two were in love. I saw it every day. I saw how you looked at her. How can you say that she’s the reason for-”

“This is not a conversation for the workplace break room. Maggie, let me take you out tonight. I’ll buy whatever you want and I will explain to you exactly how Lisa Braeden manipulated me too.”

“Mags, she condemned everything,” Dean reveals as they are waiting for their orders. Maggie had agreed to go out with Dean because she was curious about how Lisa had played Dean; how she had used his inexperience and gullibility to cause him to become who he is today. Having sex with multiple partners at the same time, being allowed to be observed while doing it.  

“Every time we….we had sex, she complained about it. I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t satisfy her needs. Hell, she told me that my dick wasn’t big enough. She made me feel inadequate, like I was unworthy. So after we broke up, I swore that I would always have back-up. I would have someone else there to pick up the slack. I know that sounds horrible and obnoxious but in my juvenile brain, I believed her. She was my first and she was telling me that I was disappointing. It sure is a blow to the ego. I thought we were making love but she just wanted a decent fuck,” he stammers, a hand running across the back of his neck. “16-year-old me didn’t know what making love was. Hell, 26-year-old me didn’t know until a month ago. Maggie, what you and I did in that room was making love. I’m sorry that I ruined it by letting Benny in. Old habits are hard to break, I guess.”

Maggie understood all too well the effect of Lisa’s mockery and satire better than anyone. Lisa had began making fun of Maggie when she was 9 and Maggie was 7 and it only got worse once Lisa found out that she wouldn’t be disciplined for it; hell, even her own mother had joined in on the ridiculing.

“Dean, I’m sorry you went through that,” Maggie sincerely admits. She can truly empathize with Dean because she had also been on the receiving end of Lisa's humiliation. “Let me be the first one to say though that you have no problems in that area. I was completely and utterly satisfied and fulfilled. You sure know what you’re doing in that department,” Maggie mutters as she feels a blush bloom on her cheeks. 

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