#but again it feels like anytime I try to occupy myself with something my brain goes into alarm mode ughhh

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part IX

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually)

Season 1-8

Word Count: 2,883

Note: Sorry for the delay :(

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8

“I’m glad nothing serious happened to you or your friend.” Tyrion poured himself some wine and you accepted to drink with him.

“Me too.”

“I know you are a hero but I sense something else here... why you keep taking those risks for her?” He curiously asked.

“She has no one...” That was true, still, you were trying to keep your feelings buried.

“You love her.” You hid your blush behind the silver cup. He chuckled. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. She seems to be a good Lady. With all that your brother has done to her having you is a blessing.”

“You... you’re okay with it?” Loving her in secret was one thing but saying it out loud to someone was a different one.

“Of course! I could never judge you. You don’t dictate your heart, you have all my support, Y/N.” He warmly smiled, you bent down to hug him. This is one of the many reasons you love your uncle so much.

“Thank you, uncle.”

“Now I fully understand why you did that yesterday. Does she know?” He walked to the balcony gesturing you to follow him.

“No. And maybe it’s all in my head.” You brushed it off. “She sees me as her very good chum who saves her from my horrendous family.”

“Or perhaps she’s just afraid to admit it. After all, you are the princess. It’s not that easy. You’ll figure it out.” He tapped your shoulder. Could Sansa really feel the same? Nothing’s impossible, you just have to give it time and be patient. But with the way she looks at you... how you find comfort in her embraces... how she gently touches your hand...

You made your way to the Stark girl’s room to check on her just to find the door wide open and a scared Sansa with the bed stained of blood, her nightgown had red stains too.

The Hound was there, you scowled. You knew he was going to tell Cersei, and that was the last thing the redhead wanted. Shae arrived shortly.

“Good morning.” You said.

“Princess.” Sandor and Shae greeted. Your gaze landed on Sansa, the tears were threatening to come out. She didn’t say anything.

“I will inform the Queen.” He stated and left. Sansa threw herself into your arms. You could feel her tensing and quivering.

“Hey hey, it’s gonna be fine. He’s not gonna touch you.” You promise her, you would do anything to keep him away from her, even if that meant being punished.

“You should take a bath before you meet her grace.” The young handmaid said.

“I’m going to wait outside until you are finished, then I’ll escort you to my mother’s chambers. Don’t worry, my lady. I got you.” You assured. Her features relaxed and you gave her a small nod.

You tried to come with excuses for your mother to not force her to carry Joffrey’s babies immediately but nothing with a valid point seemed to be compelling enough.

After she was done you headed to her big room. “How is your wound?” You added to soothe the hike.

“Better. You are a very good healer.” She shyly answered.

“One of my many gifts.” You winked to ease her nerves. The Queen Regent was already expecting her, yet she was not very surprised when you showed up behind Sansa, you let her entered first.

“My love, what are you doing here?” Cersei asked you, raising her eyebrow.

“I... thought I’d give Lady Sansa some advice, I flowered almost two years ago. I know it is grubby at first.”

“It certainly is. But her mother prepared her, didn’t she?”

“She told me. I thought... it would be different.” Sansa confessed.

“In what way?” You both took a seat.

“I thought it would be less... less messy.”

“Wait until you birth a child. You’re a woman now, do you know what that means?”

“I’m fit to bear children for the King.” Yes, your heart was breaking again.

“Is there any rush?” You intervened and Cersei faked a sympathetic smile.

“The sooner the better.” She made a flick for you to keep your mouth shut. Your jaw tensed. “A prospect that once delighted you. The greatest honor for a queen. Joffrey has always been difficult. Even his birth, I labored one day and a half to bring him into this world. You cannon imagine the pain. I screamed so loud I was sure Robert would hear me in the Kingswood.”

“His grace was not with you?”

“Robert was hunting. Whenever my time was near, he would flee to the trees with his huntsmen and his hounds. The only time he was with me was when Y/N was born. I’ll always remember how she wrapped her little hand around his finger, she smiled at him and that was the only time in my life I saw a tear fell from his cheek. It was too emotional.”

You missed him so badly, the stories he used to tell you about Westeros, the adventures he had when he was a young Lord, the thrill in his eyes when he saw you swing the sword for the first time, he taught you all about archery, about bravery. When you were feeling low because of Joffrey and your mother he would carry you in his arms and then ride far from the city in your horses. You missed those days cause in the dark moments he was your hero.

“You never told me that before.”

“You were your father’s favorite.” Then she referred to Sansa. “Joffrey will show you no such devotion. You may never love the King but you will love his children.” She told her calmly.

“I love his grace with all my heart.” Sansa lied in her usual innocent voice.

“That’s very touching to hear. Permit me to share some womanly wisdom with you on this special day. The more people you love, the weaker you are. You’ll do things for them that you know you shouldn’t do. You’ll act the fool to make them happy, to keep them safe. Love no one but your children. On that front, a mother has no choice.” Was it so hard for Cersei to love you as much as she loved your siblings? To support you and be there for you?

“But shouldn’t I love Joffrey, your grace?”

“You can try, little dove. My sweet daughter here, she will be marrying some Lord very soon. I think it’s time for you to start your own family.” The blonde abruptly added. Sansa felt her stomach twist itself into an uncomfortable knot.

“That means I will have to leave you, mother.” You complained. Cersei doesn’t want to end up alone, Jaime is a prisoner, you don’t know if you’re going to see him again. But she doesn’t want you to abandon her, deep down does she care? A question you often ask yourself.

“You grew too fast. You are my oldest daughter, any man who has your heart will be very lucky. Many of them are interested in you.” Your eyes were set only on Sansa Stark, even if you couldn’t be together.

“But I’m not interested in them.” You pointed out. Was she trying to send you away just because you were willing to keep protecting Sansa at all costs, or did she really wanted to get rid of you?

You and the northerner walked out. You let go of those thoughts. Focusing on her again you broke the silence. “There’ll be a battle soon. My uncle’s army will arrive anytime. Joffrey is going to be busy. I’m always here for you, Sansa.” You reassured once more, for her to know she’s not alone.

“I feel trapped. But when you’re around... you make everything better.” Hearing that made you feel a wave of joy. She blushed and gods, your face was the color of her hair too.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” You said smiling sincerely at her. She smiled back at you.

The following days passed so very fast, now you were helping uncle Tyrion do some researching on books to find information to use for the incoming battle. The King himself apparently is occupied torturing people and animals to care for his Kingdoms. Bronn was there too, your uncle thought he’d come with some ideas for the defense of the city.

You were distracted, to say the least, your mind wandering in the redhead beauty, in how she seemed to be troubled almost all the time.

“Dear niece, I need your cleverness.” You came out of your trance.

“We are very lucky to have you as Hand of the King, uncle, otherwise we’d be doomed. And I mean it, no sarcasm. I want to join you in the field.” Tyrion wasn’t expecting to hear that statement. You knew you could be effective.

“What? Absolutely not. The last time in the riot the gods were good and you were unharmed. This is way different. I know you are brave, just like Robert was, but I would never forgive myself if something happened to you. Let alone the fact your mother won’t allow it.”

“I can take care of myself. Joffrey won’t last a moment there. Maybe I can coax him to fight along his men.”

“I wish you could. He won’t listen.”

“I’ll do it anyway.”

“So stubborn. My brain might explode before I find something helpful. ‘A History of the Great Sieges of Westeros.’ By Archmaester Shevelathin. Shevelatesh.”

“Ch’Vyalythan.” You corrected him.

“Are you sure?” You shrugged.

“My Princess. Lord Hand. Commander. I must compliment you on the Gold Cloak’s performance last few weeks. Did you know there has been a marked drop in thievery?” Lord Varys said entering the room.

��How did you accomplish this?”

“Me and the lads rounded up all the known thieves.” Bronn nonchalant replied.

“For questioning?”

“No. It’s just the unknown thieves we need to worry about now.”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Have you ever been on a city under siege? Maybe this part is not in your books. See, it’s not the fighting that kills most people. It’s the starving. Food’s worth more than gold. The thieves love a siege. Soon as the gates are sealed they steal all of it. By the time it’s all over, they’re the richest men in town.”

“Yes, I believe extreme measures are warranted. Ah ‘The Great Sieges of Westeros.’ Thrilling subject, shame archmaester Ch’Vyalthan wasn’t a better writer.” Varys referred to the big book on the table.

“Uncle Stannis knows King’s Landing, he knows where we are the strongest and where we are the weakest. We need to be cautious. Take him down before he arrives at the gates.” Now you were focusing, strategy was essential.

“That’s it! The Mud Gate. A good ram will batter it down in minutes, and it’s only fifty yards from the water. That’s where he’ll land.” Tyrion affirmed certainly.

“If he does attack at the Mud Gate, what is our plan?” Varys curiously inquired. Tyrion looked at you, and then back at him.

“Wildfire.” He said.

After discussing the tactics you went to share some time with Sansa, she is one of the few people who gives you peace. Little Tommen was on his reading lessons. She was embroidering a red scarf with two lions on the top. Your heart warmed at the sight of it.

“Shae is not here?”

“I dismissed her an hour ago.” Then she stood up. “A present for you.”

“Why do I owe the pleasure?” You admired her flawless needlework.

“Because you always save me. You are always there for me. I don’t know how can I ever repay you.”

“You don’t have to, you know I do it cause I love you I’m your friend. But I appreciate the gift though. It is a very fine design.” She flushed, seeing her like this is very cute.

“You think... your brother is going to defeat Lord Stannis?”

“Brave men will fight. I have faith in them and in my uncle’s plan. I-I might... get involved.”

“Is this a bad joke?” She looked at you perplexed.

“I’m afraid is not.”

“Y/N, you could die! You are strong but still too young to go to war. And you are a princess.” Sansa winced. You squeezed gently her arm.

“I won’t die. I heard uncle Renly had in his Kingsguard a female warrior. And what about Visenya Targaryen? She was a fantastic skilled warrior as well. She fought alongside Aegon in his conquest, and in the First Dornish War. Also, she was a dragon rider, she bonded with the one called Vhagar. And had a Valyrian steel longsword named Dark Sister. I wish I had one.” You commented, utterly excited. Sansa didn’t really like the topic but her eyes lighted up every time you talked about something you were passionate about.

“You never cease to amaze me, you know so much about these things. I understand now why Arya and you got along so well.” And it’s true, you wished she was here, you missed the youngest Stark girl running around the castle. “But still, I don’t like the idea of you being out there. It’s too dangerous. You said you weren’t going anywhere.” She mumbled the last sentence.

“Trust me.” You held her hands on your own.

“Just be careful, please. Don’t leave me alone.”

“I will be. And I’ll never leave you.”

You were walking side by side with the King, Varys, and Tyrion on the eastern walls.

“If my uncle Stannis lands on the shores of King’s Landing, I’ll ride out to greet him.” Joffrey smugly spoke.

“A brave choice, your grace. I’m sure your men will line up behind you.” Tyrion subtly jeered.

“They say he never smiles. I’ll give him a red smile from ear to ear.” You rolled your eyes, knowing he wouldn’t stand a chance against him on his own. Lord Varys and your uncle began to converse with each other.

“Hey, Y/N. I heard you want to join us in the fight.” He said in a mocking way.

“You think I’m not capable?”

“Exactly. You are a woman. Not that I really care about what happens to you. You’ll die out there.”

“You have little faith in me, big brother. But still, I’m way better than you in almost everything.” You squinted your lips. “No! In absolutely everything. Don’t worry, I’ll pray for our victory.”

“I already know your whore friend has flowered. I’ll come to visit her right after I kill our uncle.” He hissed and you didn’t punch him right away right there cause you held back your fury. He was provoking you, you would get your knuckles bloody for Sansa if he goes too far.

“...They say he burns his enemies alive to honor the Lord of Light.” You joined the conversation between the two men.

“The Lord of Light wants his enemies burnt. The Drowned God wants them drowned. Why are all the gods such vicious cunts? Where is the god of tits and wine?” Tyrion wittily questioned.

“In the Summer Isles, they worship a fertility goddess with sixteen teats.” Varys responded.

“We should sail there immediately.” You smirked.

“Lord Varys, do you know anything new about the Targaryen girl?" Some nights you wonder, if your father hadn't won the Rebellion she would be here, this would be her home, she was exiled so she could survive, she was forced to marry a savage, her family is dead, the world is such a cruel place... and when you are a helpless girl it gets worse, what if things had turned out differently? And you were the one on the other side of the world, maybe that's one of the main reasons why you sympathized with her.

“This morning, I heard a song all the way from Qarth beyond the Red Waste. Daenerys Targaryen lives.”

“That’s a relief.” You said.

“A relief? She has three dragons. But even if what they say is true, it’ll be years before they are fully grown. And then there will be nowhere to hide.” Varys argued.

“She’s on the edge of the world, the least of our problems.” Uncle Tyrion tried to sound unconcerned.

“Three baby dragons? How is that possible?” They were extinct for almost three hundred years. How she managed to bring them back?

“Princess, do you consider it was wise to let her live? If you knew then what you do now... would you persuade his grace to give the order? She might be a threat soon enough, she will claim the throne-“

“Maybe she’s not interested in it. Not everyone is. Especially the rightful heirs. She did nothing wrong.”

“Yet.”

“I don’t regret my choice. I wouldn’t change it if I could.” You were confident, she’s innocent, one game at the time, you thought. Just because her ancestors were evil doesn’t mean she is evil too.

“You are so selfless, and good. Westeros might need a Queen like you.” Varys remarked.

“I’m no Queen, my Lord.” The throne belongs to you more than to Joffrey that was for sure, but how can you overthrow snakes that know your weaknesses and can use them to sting and hurt you the most?

[justafewsmallsteps]

Happy InuKag Week 2020, Day 6! It’s been literal years, but here’s finally Part 2 of The Problem With Thinking, my Inuyasha High School AU. Lots of love going out to @coquinespike for all the encouragement. Thanks for your patience! It’d probably be better to reread Part 1 (no big edits, but because it’s been SO LONG) but honestly it’s not a huge deal if you don’t. Lots of fluff.  I’m sorry I can only offer the same bland AU over and over. Please forgive me and leave comments in the notes anyways? 

So the fight was officially over and now they stood there holding each other. It was so intimate that it made the tips of his ears feel hot with embarrassment. Hard to believe that just this morning he was still avoiding her, yet now she was practically molded up against him, and there wasn’t a single part of him that wanted her to move away.

He was hyper aware that Kagome was so very close—closer than she’d ever been before.  It was new territory. With their reconciliation, the bridge he thought he’d burn reassembled itself anew, and they’d crossed a line somewhere. What line, he couldn’t be sure.

A new burning filled Inuyasha’s chest, a fire that wanted to engulf her entirely. He’d missed her so much, and being away from her had drained him like a dying battery. He’d felt so tired, so void of any energy or drive, so… lonely. Now she was here, right here, and his whole body was thrumming with the desire to grab her tightly and hold on, to bask in her warm presence like a spring field finally coming out of winter’s harsh cold.

He saw the same look of longing reflected in her eyes. They were magnets kept apart until now.

He forced himself to speak, though his heavy tongue and heart protested the words as he spoke, “I should get you home.”

The sky was getting darker by the second. Her house was just down the street, but he’d worry too much if he let her go by herself. Besides, it was an excuse to stay by her side for a while longer.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”she asked with a hurt tone.

“What? No!” Inuyasha yelped. The opposite! He coughed and looked off to the side. There was no decent way to explain how he was afraid that the more she stayed by him, the harder it would become to let her go even though they only lived a block apart. He’d cut her off so thoroughly from his life, and now he realized it was like denying himself oxygen. How had he survived?

“Inuyasha?” She gripped his hands again to pull him from his thoughts.

“Huh?” he noised dumbly.

“C-can I…” Kagome wracked her short-circuiting brain for an excuse, any excuse to stay longer. “I don’t want to go home looking like this.”

“What?” You look fine, he thought.

She bit her lip. “Since my face is all puffy and my eyes are red. I don’t want Mama or Jii-chan to worry.”

“O-oh. You… Do you want to come up?” His eyes suddenly opened wide. “Not if you’re uncomfortable with that! I could get you a… wet towel or something.”

“It's okay. I’m fine with going up.” Kagome fought a blush.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded firmly, if only to keep from jumping up and down in glee. Success! How obvious would that be?

He replied with a stiff nod back. He swiftly turned around, dropping one hand from her grip but holding on with the other to lead her into the building. Their palms and fingers felt as if they’d fused together like hot glass. It was weird to imagine they’d have to come apart anytime soon.

As they walked past the metal gate and into the complex, Kagome’s eyes wandered to drink in the unfamiliar territory, but also to keep occupied. There was a tension in the air—some shy but persistent heat that sealed their mouths shut. Inuyasha was looking straight ahead avoiding looking at her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do much differently than him. The fact loomed upon them: they were going to be in his apartment… alone. It was very new for them, and they’d only just gotten their problems solved. Her heart raced. She’d just found out she was in love with him. Maybe asking to come up was a bad idea.

Before she could think else of it, Inuyasha finished turning the key to his door. It opened with a small push, sending her stomach to do a cartwheel. The darkness inside fed her curiosity despite her nerves. She followed him in as the lights flickered on. Humble. Quiet.

It’s not like he has anyone to greet, she remembered. There weren’t decorations or frills—just the basic necessities.

Kagome removed her shoes, noticing how awkward it felt to do so with one free hand. Still, she had no intention of letting go.

“Uh, the… bathroom is over there.” Inuyasha gave a directional head gesture that had his ears twitch. “Is there anything you need?”

Her eyes dropped down to their locked hands. With a strange sense of concentration, she loosened her grip—at least she thought she did. It didn’t budge.

“Oh.” Inuyasha noticed the problem.

A voice yelled in his head. You’re an idiot. You can’t follow her in there! Let go!

With the care and hesitation of unwrapping a bandage, he moved his fingers to uncurl from hers. It felt like pulling apart linked chains. Their palms slid past each other, fingers sweeping to the tips. He would have let it go, but the slightest hint of uncertain, lingering pressure from Kagome had him stop in his tracks.

They froze. His eyes flickered to her blushing face, and he felt her fingertips squeeze his.

“In—“

The next second he yanked her close—his earlier desire to do so finally sated. He grasped the back of her head while his other hand wrapped around her wrist. Her contact against him felt like finally gulping air after drowning.

“Inuyasha?” the girl gasped.

Shit. He’d acted on instinct when he grabbed her. He had no idea what to say, and he felt the embarrassment bubble fast to the surface. She felt nice though, and he couldn’t deny that.  

Kagome’s face pressed against Inuyasha’s chest, her mind drawing blanks as her cheek felt the heat of his skin beneath his T-shirt. His heart was racing, just like hers. It was reassuring.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He shifted the hand in her hair, letting the smell of lavender shampoo and Kagome’s natural scent fill his home.

Kagome’s free hand came up to hold him back gently, and she realized she’d been aching to do this since she laid eyes on him: to hold him in her arms, to pour out her affection, to be close.

“It’s fine,” she whispered, running her palm soothingly up and down a short length.

Inuyasha reflexively pushed her closer in an attempt to keep from shivering at her touch.

Her heart was still beating rapidly. How else was she supposed to feel when the boy she loved was hugging her so sweetly? It took a while, but after a few moments of silence, Kagome relaxed enough to speak.

“Inuyasha?” She squeezed him a little, somehow already comfortable with touching him so intimately. Funny, but it just felt right being close to him.

“Hm?”

She allowed herself to sink against his body, letting him hold up more of her weight. “Have you been doing all your homework?” It was a familiar question, bringing a sense of normalcy back to their dynamic.

“Uh…” he hesitated.

“Inuyasha…”

“I’ve been doing enough,” he responded vaguely. It was the truth, but he knew she wouldn’t like the answer.

Kagome clicked her tongue in disapproval. “That sounds like you’ve been slacking…”

“I got lazy without your naggin’.” Lazy. Frustrated. Uninspired. Angry. Depressed. Who was he kidding? When he wasn’t moping around he was trying his best not to punch walls.  

The girl sighed. “I’ve been distracted too, so I’m not one to talk… Though I’m going to blame that on you.”

He scoffed, but the sound was soft. “You gettin’ all worked up over me…” Never mind that he’d been the same.

She poked him in the shoulder blade and dug her finger into it as a small jab. “Don’t be a jerk. I missed you a lot, dummy. I wouldn’t be here otherwise, looking like a total mess.”

In seriousness, he apologized. “I’m sorry.”

The sincerity of it brought tears rushing to her eyes so quickly she was defenseless against them. She was completely caught off guard, but if he was going to be that honest then she’d follow suit.

“Don’t do that to me again,” she had to whisper in a rush to keep her voice from faltering. If it sounded like a plea instead of a reprimand, there was nothing she could do about it.

“I won’t,” he swore. “I… please don’t cry Kagome. I can’t stand it. You know that. I don’t know what to do.”

“Just don’t be an idiot again.”

He held his tongue and let her calm down. His hand kept rubbing soothing circles against her back.

“Were you eating properly?” She finally sniffled with a frown.  

“I ate. Not what you’d call ‘properly’ though.”

“You can’t just have three packs of ramen when you get home from school.”

“I can and definitely did.”

Again, she sighed. “We should go to the grocery store together. And I need to teach you how to actually cook.”

“I can fend for myself fine,” he retorted. After a beat he added, “But if you want to come over and make food, I’m not going to stop you.”

“I’d cook for you everyday if only to keep you from high blood pressure.” She pulled away in time to catch the shock on his face, and realized then that her words sounded like a proposal, like she could commit to taking care of him for the rest of her life. She felt mortified. It was too close to a confession!

“You would?” Inuyasha felt embarrassment splash him in the face like cold water.

“No! I mean, yes, but I didn’t mean that I…  you… you know? I just want you to eat balanced meals! That’s all I meant, okay?”

Normally he would retort her sweet sentiment with something brash. He was marvelously good at ruining the moment. Instead he was frozen, looking at the girl in front of him with affection seizing his whole being like lightning, strong and inescapable. He was helpless as it coursed through every nerve in his body.

His silence had Kagome fidgeting.

“Inuyasha?”  

He couldn’t move. He opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly, no words forming whatsoever like a dumb fish gaping for food. The idea of Kagome cooking him a meal… of her setting down plates, of her coming home to him… every day for the rest of his life…

The girl’s cheeks flared indignantly at his lack of response; heart thrumming nervously because it wasn’t a true confession, but it had the tone of something so much more—something akin to promising forever. She couldn’t take his surprised expression locked onto her so intensely, so she shoved her face into his shirt to avoid his gaze. Her hands gripped at his sleeves. She shook his arms hoping for a reaction and cried out, “Don’t just stand there staring at me! You have to say something, you dummy!”

He really should say something, he knew, but nothing was coming to his head. Nothing except Kagome, over and over again. Her in his kitchen, her walking down the road by his side, her eating meals with him everyday… When she told him to let her stay by his side, Inuyasha didn’t consider the actual depth of it. He’d simply taken it at face value. If she wanted to be around him, she’d decide that. The thought of her being there for him daily triggered something heavy to lock itself into place. It felt like she’d smacked an old machine and the gears finally fit themselves together. The realization came to him then.

He was in love with her.

Kagome felt his hold on her slacken. “Inuyasha?” she tried again, with a miserable tone to her voice. She was still mortified.  

He released his steady hold on her wrist. Then he pried her hand gently away from his shirt, slowly easing his fingers between hers. The action was enough to get her to pull herself back. He’d never been very tender before.

His gaze was molten hot against hers, burning maybe, but she was caught in it like sweet, sticky honey. Her chest panged with how much she loved him. Couldn’t she just… reach up and show him? She tightened her fingers entwined with his. God, that felt so right. Her hand belonged in his.

“Kagome…” Her name was meant for his mouth.

Oh, he was so attractive, and she’d missed him so much. If she could somehow wrap herself up in him she would. His tentative grip firmed, lifting her hand closer. Her eyelids lowered while the rest of her body tilted up, up, and towards him.

Inuyasha was enamored. His entire world was swirling around Kagome as if she was the center of the universe. She very well might be, with him caught in her gravitational pull. He closed his eyes and saw black—and then he saw a star; faint and twinkling behind his eyelids, like the uncertain pressure lingering sweetly against his lips.

Then it was gone.

Slightly dazed, he opened his eyes to a blushing Kagome shying back from her kiss. Damn if he didn’t want to pull her to him again. A ‘wait, come back,’ on the edge of his tongue.

As if asking for permission, Kagome tugged at his sleeve and steadied her gaze on his mouth. He wanted to smile at her obvious signals, but a prick of paranoia had him stop her from moving towards him.

“Wait…” He watched as her courage was drained from her face and tried quickly to assure her. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I… I didn’t mean for this to happen when I asked you up, you know.”

“I know that,” she responded earnestly.

“Right…” he turned to look at the floor, trying to sift through his clouding thoughts gathering and darkening like a storm.

“So what’s the problem?”

“I mean, you know. That stuff,”

“The ‘stuff’ that people who don’t know anything say?” she asked.

“Well they ain’t that off if we keep at it,” he replied dryly, but there was a blush on his face. He’s just been kissed by Kagome Higurashi, the most beautiful, wonderful girl in the world. She would’ve done it again if he hadn’t held her back.

“Look, I don’t care. This is what I want. Do you…” she bit her lip unsurely and his knees almost buckled in, “Do you want this?”

Do you want me? Her eyes, clear and bright as a mid-summer day, seemed to ask him.

“Of course I do…” he confessed. There was more he wanted to say on the matter, or rather, more doubts that wouldn’t stop surfacing, but in the next moment Kagome had her mouth back on his, pushing his thoughts down to drown. He let them die there. Instead he let his world become so full of her that nothing else fit, and he’d never felt more put together than he was now, overflowing with her.

Kissing Inuyasha was something she’d dreamt about a lot lately, but not a fantasy she’d thought would come to fruition. It was different than she’d imagined, her body awkwardly stiff yet her heart soaring.

Attached, was the first word that came to Kagome’s mind.

That was how people described how Kagome felt about Inuyasha. She was fond of him. She had a soft spot for him. She was irrevocably and inexplicably attached to him. Now that they were kissing, she uncovered a new sense of meaning to that word. She’d been so attached to him that his absence felt like pulling her seams apart. Kissing him now was sewing them back together, but she still wanted to be closer. She stretched up on her feet higher, pressing her lips harder against his. Her goal was more, but of what, she wasn’t sure. More Inuyasha, somehow, in any and every capacity seemed to be the only answer. Her hands moved up his arms, slowly feeling the worn fabric of his shirt beneath her palms. Her cheeks flared with a new blush feeling the muscles beneath. She wasn’t just attached; she was attracted; she was in love. She loved him so much that it burned from her lungs to her lips.

Their mouths parted, and he huffed her name into the hot air between them. It was a match that set her ablaze. She intended to engulf him, so she kissed him harder. She wrapped her arms around the boy’s neck and drew him in close to her, wobbling between standing on her toes and back onto her heels.  

Sensing her imbalance, Inuyasha tugged her by the waist to steady them both, but it had searing consequences as her body pressed into his. He heard her react with a sharp inhale and he hissed in response to her. So this is what happened when you got close to the sun, huh? He wasn’t melting, but he was burning everywhere they touched, and she scorched her way through him like a wildfire. They were moving so quickly his mind was whirling.

Kagome tilted her head, and Inuyasha felt the foreign sensation of her wet tongue swiping against his lip.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, and Kagome immediately pulled back startled.

“Sorry! I don’t—”

“No, it’s fine,” he muttered with winded effort. He took a moment to breathe, noticing Kagome’s chest similarly took deep rises and falls. The reality of what had just occurred between them settled in his mind. He wasn’t sure what to do next, but he wanted to continue.

“Was I… Did I go too fast or do something wrong?” She sounded so out of breath that his head spun.

“’Course you did nothing wrong,” he whined, putting his face in his hand and closing his eyes. He was more turned on than he’d ever imagined possible, and it was making him dizzy. “Just surprised me there.”

“Oh,” Kagome finally squeaked in response. She self-consciously folded in one herself.

He peaked through his fingers at the girl only to see her looking shyly down at the ground. Her kissed lips were set in a puffy little pout and her cheeks were a warm pink. Inuyasha groaned. She was beautiful and he was such a sap for her.

He was devastatingly in love with her. And he kissed her! And she kissed him back! And more!

He was having a hard time believing this was real.

“Maybe we did go kinda fast,” he admitted. He just couldn’t wrap his head around this whole thing. When did his life make a 180? Was he dreaming? When did his dreams ever get this good?

“Sorry,” Kagome mumbled.

Inuyasha sighed and lowered his hand. “Quit apologizing.” He tucked his finger under her chin to get him to look at her,  but found the vulnerability behind her eyes almost too much to bear. He swallowed to fight the blush staining his face. “Just… gimme a sec, okay?”

Kagome nodded into his hand. He moved his face forward and pressed his forehead against hers, feeling her heat radiate against his skin. She was too much for him, he knew. He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down—mind and body. He felt Kagome do the same, slowly relaxing into regular breaths.

This is real…

Delicately shifting, he pressed his lips to hers again, feeling her seize and then press into him. The awkwardness set back in, but they pushed through it and felt it out until it slowly melted away. He felt her exhales as sweet, warm puffs of air. They stayed like that for a while until Inuyasha took his hand and slid it to hold her cheek. He opened his mouth slightly and tilted his head to deepen their kiss. Kagome followed suit, letting him set the pace. They kept going, pushing lips together, adjusting, readjusting, and getting comfortable.

He felt her adorable eager little jump as he pulled her face closer, her hand coming up to grasp his shirt in a steadying motion. It was a swift pump to his ego to know she wanted this and was probably holding back.

He was getting turned on all over again, but it wasn’t as sudden as before. He took his time adjusting to each step forward, but Kagome didn’t make it all that easy with little gasps and the sweetest taste he’d ever experienced.

He’d always thought kissing was a gross concept. He wasn’t keen on saliva or using tongues, but the instant he felt hers on his lips he was convinced it was more than okay. Sure, it shocked him, but it felt good. Too good, at that moment, but now… Now he enjoyed the slight pressure of her sucking on his bottom lip, and the tease of her teeth as she did so. He enjoyed doing the same, shocking sensations prickling his spine with each new discovery. She was infinitely patient and understanding, letting him set their pace, and following suit.

Tentatively, Inuyasha sucked in a breath and dared to sweep his tongue against Kagome’s lips. He felt her eagerly part her mouth, inviting him to try again. This time he had taken the lead, but tremors still passed through his body as he tasted her, yet he was determined for more. She moved her arms up to wrap around his neck and pull him down. She must have been standing on her toes for a long time, he remembered. Kagome was petite, and he was over a foot taller if he stood up straight.

Ideas flash in his mind—making out on the floor, on a couch, him lifting her up to the counter… Oh damn. So much for calming down.

He grabbed her hips and moved her back just a bit, away from his lower body. It was achingly difficult to do so, since every part of him was screaming for contact with her.

She broke their kiss with a gasp.

“I should maybe think about getting home soon.”

A little more than dazed, Inuyasha did his best to recalibrate his brain. He felt the blood slowly making its way back there, but for now all his thoughts were hazy. Kagome. Home. Her house.

“Right…”

“And I should also still wash up my face.”

“Right…”

She giggled then, likely because he was still in a hormone-induced stupor. “I’ll be right back,” she assured him with a quick kiss to his cheek that left him feeling tingly. Then she was off to his bathroom.

As the door clicked shut and the buzzing sound of the restroom light came on, Inuyasha blinked himself back to reality. And it hit him hard enough that he had to sit down. He replayed the whole night in his head, wondering how the hell he’d gotten to this point. It was another miserable Friday punctuating a shitty week of dodging her at school. He got home feeling like garbage, only appreciating the weekend as a reprieve from having Kagome’s scent peppered in the air of the hallways and classrooms. His apartment was the one place he could lock himself away and not be haunted by her. But then the buzz came from the gate, and then her broken voice pleaded through the phone.

He came down just to end it once and for all. No more texts. He’d just have to scare her off and be done with it, but she was stubborn. She’d never let him push her around, so why did he expect her to let him push her away without a fight? She clung to him, dug into him, broke his resolve with her sad and angry tears. She’d missed him too. What did he do to deserve her?

A whine pushed its way past his throat, just in time for Kagome to walk out of the bathroom and shoot him a concerned look.

“You okay?”

It was weird, seeing her in his apartment like this, so casually as if she belonged there. She did, as far as he was concerned.

Filled with a new sense of determination and longing, he stood up resolutely and made his way to her. Before she could ask another question, he scooped her up in his arms and kissed her fully on the mouth. She gave an initial squeak of shock, but quickly accepted the new position, once again putting her arms around him.

“I missed you,” he admitted quickly before his unfounded resolve melted away.

“I just washed my face,” she teased as he lowered her back to her feet.

Incredulous he stammered, “That’s not what I—!”

“I know,” she interrupted. Kagome smiled, and Inuyasha’s annoyance vanished. “You don’t have to miss me anymore.”

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Twelve

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

May 3rd, 1993

It was Emile’s birthday, but all he could do was sit on his bed and cry. His heart hurt, because one of his friends was sick, and wasn’t getting better anytime soon. And Emile was worrying himself sick worrying over her. When there was a knock at Emile’s door he went over to open it, finding his dad on the other side. “What’s wrong, Emile?” Dad asked.

“You know what’s wrong,” Emile said. “She’s not getting better. If the fever doesn’t go down, they’re gonna take her to the hospital.”

“And she’ll get the treatment she needs there,” Dad said. “Emile, you can’t worry yourself sick over every friend you have, or you’d never feel okay.”

“But—”

“No but’s,” Dad said. “You have to be your first priority, Emile. You can’t put other people’s health over your own, not when it’ll hurt both of you in the long run.”

“She’s really sick, Dad,” Emile sniffled.

“But she’ll get better,” Dad said. “And in the meantime, you have to take care of yourself. Stop obsessing over whether or not she’ll be okay. Enjoy yourself, and don’t feel guilty for it. You should always be your first priority, Emile, never forget that.”

December 14th, 2000

Emile was working on making breakfast in the kitchen when he heard Remy stumble out of his bedroom with a groan. He inwardly shook his head with a laugh. Remy was definitely not a morning person; at least not when he stayed up late. And he didn’t know how late Remy was up last night, but judging how Remy immediately gravitated towards the coffee machine, it was a late one. “How bad?” Emile asked.

Remy grunted as he leaned against the kitchen counter, observing the coffee pot.

“Wow, that bad huh?” Emile laughed, finishing spreading cream cheese on his bagel as he moved to the refrigerator to grab some milk.

Remy didn’t acknowledge anything else until the coffee pot had finished filling with Remy’s magic elixir, at which point Remy immediately poured a cup and drank half of it in one go.

“Oh. Worse than I thought,” Emile said. “You good, Rem?”

“Mm,” Remy hummed. “Couldn’t stop thinking.”

“About?” Emile prompted.

Remy sighed, turning to the coffee pot. “Need more coffee.”

“For the conversation, or to function?” Emile asked.

“Yeah,” Remy said, pouring more coffee into his cup.

“Geez, Rem, how late did you stay up?” Emile asked.

All Emile got in response to that was a finger as Remy drained his cup of coffee. He gasped when he finally came up for air. “Okay,” Remy said. “The first buzz should be hitting shortly. Once it does, we can talk.”

“You’re a disaster, Rem,” Emile said with a shake of his head. “But yeah, I’ve only got afternoon classes today, and I haven’t heard back after my interview yet.”

Remy grunted and went to their small cupboards, looking for something to eat. Emile knew that Remy hadn’t been going to as many of his classes, especially not after midterms, in order to pick up more shifts to help pay for rent. But Emile could have sworn that sometime soon, something important was supposed to happen in one of Remy’s classes. Could that be what was keeping him up late?

Emile shook his head and walked into their small shared space in the apartment, currently being occupied by cardboard boxes to serve as a table. He sat on the floor and put his breakfast and milk on the boxes. The bedrooms had come with beds, which Emile was thankful for, but he wished that the entire apartment had come furnished, sometimes, even if it would have been more expensive. Sitting on the floor all the time just wasn’t gonna cut it.

Remy collapsed on the floor next to him, stuffing a granola bar in his mouth. Emile tried to brush Remy’s hair with his fingers, but Remy had so many cowlicks it wasn’t even funny. Emile wondered how much hair gel Remy used to keep his hair in place on bad hair days like these.

When Remy swallowed the last of the granola bar, he kept his eyes trained on the table as he said, “I was up until almost four in the morning.”

“I...why?!” Emile asked. “It wasn’t for classes, was it?”

Remy shook his head. “I just...couldn’t sleep. I don’t really know what I was feeling, but it wasn’t pleasant.”

“Were you happy? Sad? Angry? Confused?” Emile gently asked.

“All of those, save happy, rolled into one, I guess,” Remy said, brows knitting together, even though all the while he never looked at Emile. “I just...couldn’t stop thinking. About last night.”

“About therapy?” Emile asked. “Because if you don’t think that Kim is a good fit, we can find someone else...”

“Not about therapy,” Remy said. “I couldn’t stop thinking about...about...how you said...said that I...hurt you.”

Emile blinked. He couldn’t think of anything to say, really. He had told the truth, and he knew Remy hated it when he sugarcoated things. But clearly, this was affecting Remy differently. And judging by the way Remy couldn’t even look Emile in the eye, he was pretty sure the effect was a negative one. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Remy choked on a laugh. “I thought you didn’t want to be my therapist.”

“I don’t. But I want to be your friend. And if you trust friends enough, you can tell them your secrets. You just can’t unload everything on them and expect them to magically fix it,” Emile said. “So. I’ll ask you again. Do you want to talk about it?”

“...I cried,” Remy admitted. “I’ve been crying a lot lately, and I don’t know where it’s come from. The last time I cried like I did last night, I was in the ninth grade and someone who I thought was my best friend exposed me to the whole school for brownie points from the popular kids. I felt the same level of hurt as I did then. But...the hurt wasn’t directed at you.”

Emile frowned. “Who or what was it directed at?”

“Myself,” Remy said. “I just...I got so angry with myself, because the last thing in the world I wanted to do was...was hurt you. You’re my best friend. I hadn’t had a best friend in years, unless you count Toby, and neither of us were very touchy-feely, even then. And then I got sad, because I had done all of this, and you never spoke up about it. And what if that meant I made it feel like you couldn’t speak up about it? I’d played off hurt as a joke one too many times before, you wouldn’t know that I had realized that was wrong unless I genuinely apologized and told you I realized it was wrong. And! On top of that! I was super confused, because why should I care, right? The whole point of me pushing everyone away was that I didn’t care. But I realized last night...I do care.

“I care about you, and I care about your friends, and in order to convince myself I don’t care, I make them hate me so caring about them feels pointless. But it doesn’t work. And...and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but at least right now, I do need a therapist. Like, don’t get me wrong. I don’t like shrinks. I get uneasy when someone literally has been trained to pick your brain apart, but I need that as part of my support, and I need support beyond you and the therapist, too, because I only see her once a week, maybe, and I can’t just go to you the rest of the time, because I don’t want you to burn out, and I realized I need to have some of my own friends, even if they’re also your friends, because they could be part of a support network too, and obviously I can help them, friendship isn’t just a one way street, right? And I mean—”

Emile cut Remy off with a hand over his mouth. “Remy, slow down, I can barely understand you when you’re talking that fast. And please, end your sentences with a period once in a while, you need to breathe.”

Remy stopped mumbling into Emile’s hand and Emile let his hand drop. Remy took a deep breath. “I...I really don’t want to hurt you, Emile. And I’m super sorry that I did. And...I’m willing to do what it takes to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.”

Emile sat there in silent shock. Clearly, he had misjudged how much progress Remy had made over the past couple months. He genuinely cared about Emile. And while he might not care for others, not yet, he wanted to learn. And Emile felt a swell of affection and pride at that realization. “It won’t be easy,” Emile warned. “If you want me to call you out whenever you make a bad comment, it’ll happen frequently, possibly enough for you to get defensive. The key is to put that defensiveness aside and listen to what the other person is telling you, when they say that behavior is unacceptable.”

“Yeah...I...I figured. I’m not exactly good at reading a room, unless it’s to figure out how to make people hate me,” Remy said, scratching the back of his neck.

“And you’re willing to put in the work to change that? You genuinely want this?” Emile asked.

“I...yeah. I want to have friends again,” Remy’s voice was small, and soft, and fragile, and it broke Emile’s heart to hear it.

“Good. Then I can be your tutor,” Emile said. “We can hang out on campus if you want, or drive around town, or do whatever. But know that if you do something that I don’t think is kind, I’ll call you out. In front of whoever’s there. Not to shame you, but so you know that isn’t okay, and the people around you know you’re trying to learn.”

Remy nodded. “I don’t like the thought of that,” he admitted. “But if that’s what I need to do to get better, then I’ll do it.”

The swell of affection hadn’t dimmed in Emile’s chest any, and he smiled softly at Remy. “Thank you for being willing to try,” he said. “I know you won’t know how to do everything right off the bat, and I’m willing to go over things with you if you need or want an explanation. But the fact that you’re trying at all is a good sign. I’m proud of you for that.”

Remy’s eyes widened and they snapped up to meet Emile’s gaze. “You’re...what?” he asked softly.

“I’m proud of you,” Emile said. “Haven’t you ever had someone be proud of you before?”

“Maybe when I was really little,” Remy said. “Never once I grew past, like, seven. No one ever told me they were proud of me, unless I asked, and even then, it felt forced, or like they didn’t want me to prompt them.”

“You know, there are days where I’d love to strangle a majority of your family,” Emile said matter-of-factly.

Remy blinked. “That may be the first aggressive thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

“And what’s more, it’s true,” Emile said with a bitter smile. He stood. “I’m getting dressed, and when I’m done and you’re out of your pajamas, we can figure out what to do today, sound good?”

“Don’t you have DnD tonight?” Remy asked.

“That’s tonight,” Emile said. “I’m free until my afternoon classes. And after that, we can always have dinner together.”

Remy did a double take. “You know, you keep talking like that, people will start to think that we’re dating,” he said.

Emile shrugged. “Eh, I don’t have a problem with people knowing I’m bisexual. You don’t seem to have a problem with people knowing you’re gay. If people ask if we’re dating, we can just be honest and say no. Unless, of course, you need to get any creeps off your back, in which case I will happily play your fake boyfriend until they leave.”

“You’re too good to have me as your friend,” Remy said, waving Emile off to his room. “I don’t know why you chose me as a friend, but I’m glad you did.”

“Me too,” Emile said with a smile, going to his room and getting dressed.

As he picked out what shirt he wanted to wear, he was left wondering why Remy brought that up. Having dinner together was something friends did all the time. And it wasn’t like that phrasing was dating-exclusive. He didn’t understand why Remy felt that needed to be pointed out. Who cared if people thought they were together? So long as Emile and Remy knew the truth and no one tried to hurt them, where was the harm in it?

“One of life’s greatest mysteries,” Emile chuckled to himself. “The enigma that is Remy Picani, with his best friend Emile Thomas.”

In all seriousness, though, he did wonder. He wouldn’t ask Remy about that right away, not after Remy had opened up to him so much already this morning. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Maybe another day, he decided. He walked out of his room to find Remy wearing that same leather jacket he had gotten recently and refused to take off whenever they went out. Emile laughed. “Where to?” he asked.

[ladybell9095]

My classes are finally over and finals are done with. My geebs haven’t posted in forever, SO here is a Christmas War/FemReader. It ain't the best. I honestly thought i could do better, but as soon as classes ended the holidays dominated my life and also car problems, but I digress. Please enjoy. 

December 15th

While walking into the living room War hears you frustratingly sigh. “I thought your studies were over.” War looked over to you, annoyed that you were on your computer yet again.

Your eyes were glued to the screen as usually even though your classes were over. “You are correct.”

“Then why are you still on that square contraption?”

You finally took a break from the screen and rubbed your eyes. “Because I must find gifts for everyone.”

War looked down confused at your random spark of generosity. “Gifts?”

You looked to him with a gleam in your eye. “For Christmas. It’s just around the corner and I need to make sure I get gifts for everyone.”

Everything became clear once he heard the word Christmas. Truth be told War still wasn’t used to the concept of giving gifts to loved ones on “Christmas”. Your first Christmas together he didn’t care for the tradition and told you to focus on others. You listened at first, but you got him a present anyway. It has been well hidden, waiting to be accepted. This year though you would give him his gift and two more on top of that.

“Who are you giving gifts to?”, War asked knowing full well who was on your shopping list.

“Well there’s my family, your siblings, my friends, and there’s you.”

“You’re getting me a gift? What for?”

“Because it’s Christmas. Everyone deserves something on Christmas.”

War knew that this holiday meant much to you. He couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness towards him. “Can I ask what you plan to give me?”

“You can, but I’m not going to tell you. You’ll find out on Christmas.” You then return to your search for the ever-eluding perfect gifts. “Oh. I have a favor to ask. After I figure out what to get your brothers and sister can you deliver their presents for me just in case I don’t see them?”

“I will make sure that they are delivered.”

“Thank you. I hope they like what I get them.”

“It is not the gift that matters, but the thought.”

There was a slight smugness to your words. “I wonder who you learned that from?”

“I wonder indeed.” You feel some added weight on your head. “Will you be coming to bed?”

You looked to the time on your computer. “Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

“If you’re not, I will come grab you myself.” And grabbed you he did after you went a minute over the given time.

December 22nd

You’ve just about gotten everyone’s gift. Everyone’s except Wars. About a week has been spent to prioritize the others and getting their gifts. Now it was time to find the perfect gift for War. This year he would get three. One being the gift you secretly got him even after he told you not to. The second you were currently searching for. The third one was something that you never saw yourself doing in a million years but decided to do it because War would absolutely love. At least you hope he does.

Since you were looking for Wars gift you made sure to keep your distance from the big guy. You didn’t want to, but at the same time you wanted the gift to be a surprise. Something had to give and only had to do so for a short while. When you brain went dead from all the possibilities of what to get you turned to his siblings for help.

Fury recommended something to help him in battle. War was a fighter, but what to get him where you didn’t have to travel to a different realm for. After the conversation deepened you found out that Fury was talking about gifts she would like to receive instead of thinking of her brother.

“I need some ideas on what to get for War as a gift and I thought you could help with that.”

“You underestimate how close all of us actually are.”

“So you can’t help?”

“I shall try my best, but I make no promises.” Fury began putting her mind to work. “Since War is the biggest out of all of us, he’ll need a bigger weapon.”

“Even bigger than the sword that he already has?” You honestly thought if it was even possible for War to wield anything bigger than that terrifying sword.

“Bigger. I know, get him a hammer. No. An axe.” A sinister laugh came from Fury. “Get both, so then I can do twice the killing.” You spent an hour with her listening to various methods to kill demons and with what weapon that would suit that method. Seeing how Fury was going to be no help you went on to the next sibling.

No matter how scary this man appeared you would talk to him by yourself for the sake of the perfect present for his little brother. Talking to Death wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. He gave some good ideas. Ideas that you could actually get your hands on.

“Your coming to me? To figure out a gift for War?”

“Yes.”, you answered quickly while at the same time rethinking your decision to seek advice from the Grim Reaper. “I tried Fury, but she gave me her Christmas list instead.”

“Fury was a poor choice. You should know that I’m not a great one either.”

“Oh…I see.” Your disappointment was clear as day. You knew it wasn’t the end of the world. You just thought that maybe it was possible that he would know something about War you didn’t.

Death sighed. “I am not a great choice…but I am better than Fury. You may want to write this down.” You made sure to write down everything he suggested and thanked him for it.

As an added measure you went to Strife. Out of all the siblings Strife knew War pretty well and Fury, but not Death. Those two are never on the best of terms. Anytime they occupied the same room there was always some sort of arguing amongst them. While explaining the gifts you already had gotten for War, Strife cut you off midway.

“Woah. Woah. Woah.  Hold up. You’re actually going to—”

Now was your turn to cut him midway. “Don’t say it please. It’ll just sound weird leaving your mouth.”

“That hurts. It really does.” Strife lifted his hand in the air to your glare. “Alright I’ll stop talking about it. Anyways, so you went to Fury and she was no help at all.”

“Nope.”

“You went to Death and surprisingly he gave good advice.”

“He pointed me in the right direction.”

“Then why come to me? Sounds like everything is figured out.”

“You’d think so, but I’m at a complete loss.”

“You know all he needs is you right, but I guess you already have that planned out huh?”

Your face went flush. “I-I…I’m leaving.”

“Good luck. I’m sure War will love it!”, Strife shouted from behind.

December 23rd

Everything was finally finished. No more shopping. The Christmas party that War and his siblings decided to throw for you was planned out. There wasn’t much you could say about the party. All the horsemen told you that it was going to happen. It was such a relief to not have to worry about getting anymore gifts. It was also great that you and War could spend the holidays uninterrupted.

You plopped on the couch absolutely exhausted. “Damn the holidays. I love them, but my god are they exhausting.”

War took the seat next to you. “You’ve acquired everything you were looking for?”

“Yes. Its all over. Well almost. I still need to wrap them, but that can wait till tomorrow.” You rubbed at your temples to relieve the headache you felt coming on just by thinking about doing more work.

“Do you always expend this much energy for Christmas?”

“Of course I do. I have to even more so now that I have you.”

“If that is true your lacking in it right now.”

“You’ll see more of it on Christmas.” You drop a subtle hint which War immediately picked up on.

“What do you mean by that?”

Leaning into War, you hid your dead giveaway of a smile. “Oh nothing.” War wasn’t sure what you were up to, but those thoughts were abandoned once you were in his arms.

“Do you have any more plans for today?”

“No. Not that I’m aware of. Why?”

“It has been a while since we’ve gotten to spend time together.”

War had to say no more. He received a peck on the cheek. “I’m all yours from now on.”

December 25th

After getting the house ready for three more horsemen and taking out some games to play, the house was basically ready. The house looked like it had Christmas absolutely upchucked on it on the outside and the inside looked like it was hit by a holiday twister. Decorations covered almost ever inch of the house. There was the food for the party on the counter and gifts right under the tree.

What made everything worth the effort was the big tree that sat in the corner of the living room. It was the biggest tree you ever had. Thanks to having tall ceilings, renovated purposefully for War, it was possible to have such a lovely tree. What made it truly special is that it was something that both you and War picked out.

You went to go change into your planned festive attire and walked out to join the rest of the horsemen. Usually holidays were spent with the family, but you had a new family. At least you considered them your family. Whether they considered you family or not you have War and honestly, he’s all you needed. After joining the others, the party commenced.

“I didn’t think it was possible to for someone to wear as much red as War.”, Fury pointed out once you were in her sights.

You wore a Santa dress with red stockings, black boots, and a traditional Christmas hat. “It is Christmas. I got to look the part.”

“Looks like you’ve been in Santa’s wardrobe. Wonder what else you took from there?” Strife’s comment brought a new shade of red to your outfit.

“Whatever it was it has to be better than that revolting sweater you’re wearing brother.”, Fury commented to the strangely dressed gunslinger.

“Hey, it’s supposed to look bad. It is an ugly Christmas sweater.”

The sweater he wore was probably the most unique you ever had found. The base color was this bright green and had a big picture of Santa’s face on the front. Surrounding the jolly face was just about everything Christmas imaginable. There were reindeers, candy canes, snowmen and multiple colored Christmas lights that actually lit up. On the back of the sweater was the words merry Christmas in an unreadable font and on the sides of the text were two bells. Below that was a Christmas wreath with different oversized colored baubles with musical faces. It was an early gift to him from you and that was the thing he chose.

To your surprise Strife and Death weren’t fighting…as much. In secret Fury told you that she overheard Strife and Death making a temporary truce to not fight to much.

“They didn’t want to ruin the party for you, so they sucked it up and barely tolerate each other.”, Fury whispered as Strife picked out a game to play.

“Really? That’s sweet.” You peak towards Deaths direction, but quickly averted when he felt your stare. “I wonder if they’ll follow through?”

“Don’t worry if they act up, I’ll handle them.” Fury looked a bit too enthusiastic when she said that, but you were sure nothing over the top would happen. How wrong you were.

Strife came back with a game he was sure he would win, but after the game had ended it was Death who was the winner. The second Death was determined the winner Strife accused him of cheating. As soon as the insult was thrown the arguing commenced. Fury butted in as she said she would, but it just got worse. Who knew that three grown adults, Horsemen of the Apocalypse you may add, could act like such children?

You excused yourself and went to go get the food ready. Before you left you made sure to tell War that nothing got broken. Thankfully the food was all prepared. All you had to do was serve it. You brought out the designated holiday plates you received from your grandmother and started setting up the table. When you went back to the living room you saw the three horsemen sitting quietly with their angry warden looking down on them.

Dinner went more smoothly than the game did. Everyone ate so much that you had to make sure you got the food first before it was all gone. You were lucky to grab what you did because you were sure that there would be no seconds. After dinner you put on some Christmas movies and watched a couple of Christmas specials while opening presents.

You received a gift from each of the horsemen. Fury’s gift was a small blade. Specifically to be used only if you ever found yourself in the need of it. Strife returned the favor for buying him his sweater and got you one of your own. Its ugliness could almost rival his sweater. Death wasn’t sure what to get you, so he got you some different flavored hot chocolate and a new mug to go with it.

War didn’t give you your gift just yet. He wanted to wait to give it to you after everyone had left. It was clear in that moment that you weren’t the only one who wanted to know what this mysterious gift was. You decided to do the same.  

It was getting late. The party came to an end and your guest had gone home. Now it was only you and War. You were about to tend to the mess in your house, but War had stopped you and asked that you sit on the couch.

“I’d like for you to receive your gift from me.” As War spoke, he pulled out a small black box with a silver bow. It was perfectly wrapped. It was so small in the palm of Wars hand. He could’ve easily crushed it, but he held it delicately.

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“If anyone is deserving of a gift it is you.”

The box just about fit in the palm of your hand. It was light. Eager to know what it is you began opening once War nodded his head. The silver ribbon fell to your lap. The black box top was put aside. You saw a small silver chain and began taking it out. At the end of it was a white monogramed black marble stone. Before your hands could tremble anymore you safely placed the necklace back in its box. War kneeled in front of you at the first sob, thinking that you hated the gift.

He soon found your arms around his neck and your chest pressed to his. “Thank you.” Your sobs broke up your words. “I. Love it. Thank you. Thank you, War.”

War finally broke out of his statuesque state and put his arms around you. Another intake of air was taken when you felt his comfort and warmth. “Merry Christmas.”

You thought you’d feel nothing from the overly used jolly catchphrase, but somehow War brought the feeling and magic back into it. “Christmas isn’t over yet. You still need to open your presents.”

You went to go retrieve the presents under the tree. “Presents? As in more than one.”

“Yeah. Here’s the first one.” You placed a present with worn wrapping paper on his lap. “Remember our first Christmas? Well I got you a present. I’m sorry for not giving it to you sooner.”

War ripped open the wrapping paper and saw some earmuffs. He put them on. It seemed like a good fit from where you were standing, but you had to make sure. “How does it feel? Is it too tight or too loose?”

“It fits perfectly. Thank you.” You handed War the second gift. “A bag?”

“Yeah I thought you could put it on Ruins saddle, or you can use it.”

“I’ll make sure to use this.” His responses were so simple and yet it made you very happy with your choices.

“Alright for your last gift. I need you to sit here and close your eyes.” War did as you said and waited. He waited a long time and heard a lot of noise coming from the room. After a lot of struggling you peaked out the door. “Are your eyes still closed?”

“They are.”

It took a lot of confidence to walk out of the room. You walked very slowly so you wouldn’t give away the surprise. “Ok. You can open them now.”

His blue eyes were visible once more. His jaw immediately dropped once he saw your new attire. You stood there with your hands held close to your chest. War eyed you from top to bottom. First to be seen was the red ribbon that wrapped around your chest. At the end of the ribbon was red laced underwear with two bells on each side and covering your legs were black stockings.

War began staring holes into you. It was beginning to be too much. “Well what do you think?”

After slapping some sense into his mind, War looked you in the eye. “Is this my gift?”

“Yeah. I thought that maybe you would like this?” Your face went bright red once you heard the bells jingle from all the fidgeting.

War straightened himself to his full height when he stood in front of you. He firmly held the ribbons tail. “May I unwrap my gift now?”

It was even colder now that the ribbon was gone, but the heat that rose out of you fixed that. The bells jingled again as you were gently lifted. With your legs wrapped around him the two of you went to your room where the rest of your Christmas night would be spent.

[madfantasy]

hii! sorry if you've answered this before, but how did you find your own art style? it's nothing like i've seen before, very dream-like (: i feel like with so many artists out there it can be hard to find one's own style but yours is truly unique. if it's not too much to ask, do you still have any of your first drawings? thank you 💕💕

(Oh & I'm sorry if I have answered it before, I didn't find anything on my blog so woop here comes my blaber)

Hello dear!

Thank you so much, you flatter me and my bit-som of art-som, heh. Specially that you have called it dream like— cuz 1/4 of my creations does come from my dreams. I even had a dream about Severus a couple of days ago- was explaining to him the concept of gestures in smartphones, I told him it's like pulling down a scroll, to get the notifications, lol.

Before I start side-tracking too much, yes- I can't say I do know how it happens, I guess I wasn't on the base of looking for an art style for myself, or ever considered myself an artist— or a real one? Idk. The idea of having an 'art style' doesn't register with me so I'm possibly always confused what to make of it.

I mean, I didn't go into art for art's sake. I don't enjoy beauty just for beauty's sake. It has to have a meaning, purpose, hidden dilemma you need to solve just by looking deeper; is it speaking to me, or am I speaking for it?

My only concern since the beginning of time of Mani apparating this earth and what got them into drawing anyway is: telling the story as best as possible.

I was drawing before I learned speaking. It was my instinctive language. I had something to say? Illustrated it on a piece of paper to show.

Everything I see in my surroundings or mostly in mind, I had a story to tell about. So I didn't even consider that I was making art.

I remember when I developed enough cells to be aware- I started trying to copy or capture the basics of family members, making stories about them, also games or shows I played; I drew Crash bandicoot, driving into a cliff because he was hated by his family, Tiny wearing an abaya. Pink panther cuz how tall he was weirded me out in a fascinating way, Tarzan and his special muscles, a story about an abused squid lady that eventually turn into a mermaid, a guy turning into a hero coz of some near death experience.. mmm stories about my favourite stuffed rabbit CeCe Bobo— probably the only innocent adventures I drew as a child— I wanted so badly to make them into a video game, having their parents fall into a pit of flames, heh.

And because I had daily TV episodes in my brain of whatever to occupy me from unsanitary real life; I associated with many people I love to see materlized; my characters. So I had to try & draw them exactly how they look/feel, and that's what my art slowly developed based on; is this guy the way I seen and felt him look like? If not, try other ways.

At first, I drew them with literal basic shapes, like a character would have a square face, and another heart, and if I couldn't draw circle, I used my pencil sharpener that was shaped as a circle. A method still I use to differentiate my characters (without the pencil sharpener lol)

Later, since my characters have generally my favourite things, or things I enjoy, things I appreciate— basically things from me directly or from my choices, conscious they were or not—had them chopped and scattered between the lot of them. And to learn how to do some favourite factors of them is what drives my art style I suppose. I knew I didn't want it realistic, but I also didn't want it unreal. What makes art real? That's probably the always questions I face.

Ofc, I was face with so many problems to deteriorate my passion for drawing. Like, not being allowed to draw in the first place. I had wait till everyone is gone or occupied, had to always look over my shoulder and must constantly hide every inkling of any art making, and act like the project I'm making is for school, and draw in breakfast breaks at school. I used to draw under my blanket and store my art between my books or under my pillow (never related to anything so hard like when Harry was studying magic and Dursley keeps checking on him, honestly heh). Either all that or I get the whip.

Or being told what's the point of having a style like that while everybody obviously enjoys popular styles like anime or cartoon? Why don't I draw like the popular to get noticed? I don't know how to draw anime or cartoon even if I tried. It will just show as my art style, no? Exactly like speaking two different languages with the same letters.

Or like the idea of strictly sticking to gendering things while the idea never occurred to me. The base line of how men has to be ugly and women pretty. My motto is showing beauty in everything, even in scary or messed up things hehe. But I had to consent to making my guys 'ugly' as possible to continue drawing, and if u notice a line on their throats, that's one other thing I had to do, wasn’t allowed to draw girls either. And I wasn't happy with any of that at all.

But I was able to win my right to draw anytime I like in recent years, and able to draw how I like how I use digital means. So it got better heh.

And no it's not too much, if anything, it was took me on a dusty beautiful trip of nostalgia, I thank you for it. Sadly I don't have my first drawings, and I do treasure them but they all been tossed, torn and burned before me over the years, heh.

The oldest thing I got is this, a comic made, was 11 years old I think:

Medo, a guy so beautiful that he was forced to work as a femal model, concept that felt the best to me, heh. Even tho I was in no contact with the outsider world.

He is my first solid character and I made endless comics of him.

He's develop into this -dated 2014- , he's fairy sentinel.

And I found few of my old or first time drawing them pics of the main characters in my stories, I'd love to share:

Juicy and X-bi— second ones I made. But these drawings are maybe 2 or 3 years after I made them

I know I said that lots, but x-bi was a mask wearing imaginary friend I translated into X-bi. He has almost always cold hands so I used to put my skin on cold metallic surface and imagine it his hands trying to ease the pain.

And since I had no audience home, my stuff showed at school as i drew alone, always with various replies of 'its good, but'

Juicy got me in trouble with a teacher, by a careless student that was browsing my drawings In front of them, and I was classified as mentally deranged and need help for not drawing the usual princes and white knight.

Fernando and Carlos are also old characters that expressed romance in everything they do, so when I had a drawing of them Carlos tending to a fevered Ferry, and it was snatched from me, everyone considering it intimacy and I had to punch my way through them to get it back. Being called perverted and sick in the process, even tho all they talk to me about is marriage and the process of making babies. One of them literally told me on random occasion that their heart was like a ten story building for rent, there's always someone new in and out.

Carlos is Fernando's soul guardian💛

I created General Pumbkin in school! expressing fashion in strictness with my fav hooked nose!

Axel was my joy in everything, and the most common character I got beat up for, for being girly. I don't draw him too much anymore but seeing him again made me auto happy , hes all about giving loff, darling hehe

Candy, a less brain developed babyy

Brain and Pain, my sibs fav characters from my bag, heh

And Sabine was said to me that he should be a girl to be that scared in a scary story, his story is like dark and twisted fairytales vibe that I love dearly. I'm trying to continue writing his story.

Despite whatever, I love doing art, I have to. It what gives me soul juice heh.

And thank you for sticking on my prolonged answer. I hope I didn't bore too much, I'm flooded with memories happy and bad, and they are all okay. It made me feel passionate again, so thank you for the opportunity 🙏

1.5.2020

[yukiwrites]

Edelgard, Comforted

Thanks for the support once again, @xpegasusuniverse! It was really fun to work on this unlikely duo!

This is a Support Chain C-A between Raphael and Edelgard!

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

C SUPPORT

Raphael: Huff! *thud* There ya go! A pile of new books, special delivery from Raphael!

Man: Thank you so much for carrying that mountain of books from the old storeroom, Raphael. You did it in one trip, too! I never saw someone carry so many books at once.

Raphael: Haha, no need to thank me! My muscles love to help folks with heavy lifting!

Man: W-well then, thank you, Raphael’s, uh, muscles. I’ll need to file these now, if you’ll excuse me…

Raphael: Sure! My pleasure!

Raphael: Man, I’m really not used to coming here like I should… I can already hear the Professor telling me to study… or my classmates… Maybe I could look for something- huh? Is that Edelgard over there?

Edelgard, on her own: It seems I chose the worst time to browse the library. No empty ladders in sight.

Raphael: Hey there, Edelgard! You look troubled; are the books giving you a headache too?

Edelgard: Ah, Raphael, hello. I suppose you could say that. As you can see, all ladders are either occupied by other students or out of service and the book I seek is quite out of my reach. I do not think even Hubert would be able to get it if he were here...

Raphael: Oh, book searching? I just helped the library guy here with that! Leave it to me! Is that the one with the red cover you wanted?

Edelgard: Hm, if you would not mind to aid me, then I will accept the help. Yes, it is the one with the red cover. Perhaps if I could read the title of the others beside it, I would ask for more, however, as it stands...

Raphael: Hrrrmmmm…!! Hrrrrm! Oh, wow, this is really high! Even my feet muscles can’t make me reach ‘em!

Edelgard: So he wasn’t listening to me. Oh well.

Edelgard: Raphael? Thank you for offering to help, I will simply return at a quieter time to-

Raphael: No no, wait, I got it! You can just sit on my shoulders!

Edelgard: What are you imply- wai- unhand me- agh!

Raphael: You’re as light as you look, Edelgard! You should eat more if you wanna grow up big like Big Bro Raphael!

Edelgard: I’ll- thank you if-agh! Keep steady, I am losing my balance-

Raphael: Whoa, there, I gotcha, Edelgard! Take your time!

Edelgard: I-I have gotten the books; let me down this instant, please.

Raphael: Alleyoop, there you go! That wasn’t so bad, was it? And you got more than one, too!

Edelgard, blushing: I do not know if I should be thankful that everyone seems to be minding their own business or not.

Edelgard: Anyway, I will not let a favor go without a word of thanks. So I thank you for your assistance, Raphael. As rough and sudden as it may have been.

Raphael: You’re welcome! You can always ask Big Bro Raph for help!

Edelgard: ...

Raphael: Huh? Did I say something wrong? Wait! I get it! I did it again, didn’t I? Sorry I just put you on my shoulders like that! It was a force of habit from trying to help my hard-headed little sis!

Edelgard: I suppose you did not notice you were also patting my head just now?

Raphael: Whoa, was I? I guess you remind me of my little sis more than I thought! Sorry about that.

Edelgard: …

Edelgard: It was… fine. It was a refreshing feeling to be treated like a little sister again after so long. Thank you once again for your help, Raphael. Now I need to check these out, if you’ll excuse me.

Raphael: Sure, no prob! You can always rely on Big Bro Ralph, though, alright? Me ‘n’ my muscles will be there to help anytime you need!

Raphael leaves.

Edelgard: Big brother, huh…

B SUPPORT

Raphael: I’m glad Ms. Cook is such a nice lady, she always leaves something on top of the kitchen table for me! Yum, that was a great midnight snack, so now I can sleep like a log to get even stronger tomorrow!

Raphael: Huh? Is that a person over there? Who’s wandering ‘round the pond at this hour? Maybe they’re tryna fish? But don’t fish sleep, too? I don’t think they’d bite… Unless they’re looking for a midnight snack like me, haha!

Edelgard, on her own: ....

Raphael: Hey, it’s Edelgard!

Raphael approaches.

Raphael: Edelgard! What’re you doing up so late? Wait, you look pale, even more than usual! Is that the moonlight or did you eat something bad and got a stomach ache?

Edelgard: Hello there again, Raphael. *sighs* It would have been better if it were a simple stomach ache. As it stands, it was just a bad dream.

Raphael: Oh, alright. So you can’t sleep, huh?

Edelgard: To simplify it, yes.

Raphael: That sucks. I hate it when I can’t sleep.

Raphael: You know what? Take this and this here too. Ms. Cook always leaves me food so I got some to eat on my way back to my room, too.

Edelgard: Are these… cupcakes? As I recall, the dining hall is closed after curfew.

Raphael: Yeah! You like sweets, right? I sometimes see you smiling all to yourself when we’re havin’ sweets week!

Edelgard: Do I now…? How discomposing. And here I thought I kept my emotions in check.

Raphael: It’s fine! I’m sure only people who eat lots like me noticed! Anyway, I always get a real good sleep after eating, so you should eat those and head straight to bed!

Edelgard, smiling: Thank you, Raphael. It seems you are turning out to be most helpful to me as of late.

Raphael: Aw, it’s no problem! Like I said, you can always rely on Big Bro Ralph!

Raphael: I know! If you don’t wanna go all the way back upstairs, why not just crash in my room? You can keep the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor. With how delicious Ms. Cook’s midnight snacks are, I’m sure we’ll be out real soon.

Edelgard: To your… room?

Raphael: Yeah, it’s really over there, I think if you twitch your head a lil’ you can see it from here! I love sleeping so close to the dining hall!

Raphael: Besides, whenever my little sis had a nightmare, she’d come sleep in my room and she’d always have the biggest of smiles the next day! She said I ‘attract good dreams’ or something. She dreamed of eating a cloud one night after having a nightmare so scary she had spent a long time crying! I wish I had dreamed of eating a cloud… I wonder what they taste like.

Edelgard, smiling: I assume they must be sweet. Though perhaps not as much as these cupcakes.

Edelgard: …

Edelgard: If you would not mind, Raphael, I would accept your invitation. It would be a wonderful change of pace to dream of sweets.

Raphael: Alright! Then let’s roll, ‘cause I’m already getting sleepy and I still got some food left to finish!

B+ SUPPORT

Edelgard: You can do it if you want to, Raphael. I must admit I am impressed.

Raphael: You think so? I’m surprised I got that answer right, too! The Professor really is good at what they’re doing if even doing brain stuff is working out for me!

Edelgard: The Professor does have credit for having a comprehensible teaching style, but it is your merit for getting the right answer. Do not undermine your achievements, no matter how small they may seem at the moment.

Raphael: You know what, you’re right! This time I flexed my brain and it worked! Go, brain!

Edelgard, smiling: …

Raphael: I wonder if it would be like this if my little sis were here, too. She’s always been the smart one, you know? She’d be grilling me out along with everyone else, but I think she’d help me just like you are, Edelgard.

Edelgard: Do I remind you of your little sister so much? I noticed she is basically all you talk about after food and training.

Raphael: Hmm, maybe you don’t look so much alike ‘cause you’re more composed, you know? Guess it’s ‘cause you’re a princess and all. But if you weren’t, I think you two’d be like two peas in a pod!

Edelgard: Indeed. I must keep my composure at all times so I can shoulder all that I am meant to have in the future.

Edelgard: And yet, I feel a strange compulsion to allow myself to be vulnerable whenever we are together. I wonder if it is because of your familiarity.

Raphael: Well, I’m nothing if not approachable! And I told you ‘fore, didn’t I? You can rely on me like I’m your Big Brother! I know I wouldn’t mind having another little sis if she were anythin’ like you.

Edelgard: You regard me as family…? Truly?

Raphael: Well, yeah! I’m not asking you to do the same, but if you wanna, I’ll be your Big Bro for the day. Heck, for as long as you need me!

Edelgard: That is… something I have never heard someone say to me before, Raphael. I cannot put it to words on how I feel about this, other than that I DO want to take you up on your offer.

Raphael: Knock yourself out! What can Big Bro Raph do for you today?

Edelgard: It is… Ah, it is rather hard to talk about, now that I actually want to.

Raphael: It’s okay, I know how to keep a secret! Honest. One time, my little sis broke our Mom’s favorite vase when she was realll little, but I told Mom I was the one who broke it ‘cause Maya was looking so sad about it all. They never found out!

Edelgard, smiling: I’m afraid that what I am about to disclose is not as ordinary as that. Can you truly swear to never say this to a soul? Promise on your life?

Raphael: Sounds serious, but don’t worry, Edelgard. I wouldn’t make anything to make my little sis look sad. I promise I won’t tell anyone!

Edelgard: I appreciate it, Raphael. In truth, this is about the nightmare that kept me up the other day, as well as its roots…

Raphael, nodding: Yeah. I’m listenin’.

Edelgard: I have, so often I have almost forgotten how it was to have a restful night of sleep, persistent nightmares that make me relive the past. A past of seeing my older and younger siblings beg for their lives while people cut open their flesh and insert things within their bodies. A past of a gagged me helplessly struggling to be set free of the tight chains that have never truly healed.

Raphael: Your wrists…! Is that why you’re always covered from head to toe?

Edelgard: Scars from a past that refuses to leave me; nightmares that drown out happy times I may have lived with my siblings. They were all full of hope and dreams, Raphael. And they were robbed of it all; robbed of their future by people who simply wanted more and more power.

Edelgard: So this Edelgard von Hresvelg was born, at the cost of my siblings’ lives and my memories of happier times. The only one who remained to change this rotten world, to-

Raphael: Hey, it’s alright. You don’t need to go on while you’re crying like this. Come here.

Edelgard: Crying…? I am? I thought I was beyond that by now; that my tears have all dried.

Raphael: You’re gonna be alright, Edelgard. I can’t do anything to change the past, but I’m gonna get stronger than anyone else and I’m gonna be right there to protect you in place of your brothers who couldn’t.

Edelgard: T-thank you, Raphael, for your kindness. And your warmth.

Raphael: No need to thank me, little sis. These arms were made for huggin’!

Edelgard, smiling: Indeed…

A SUPPORT

Raphael: Hngh… Oomph… Hhngh… oomph! Just one more time…! Hngh… Oomph! There!

Crashing sound.

Raphael: Phew! Those logs sure were heavy, but now I can feel my muscles bulging! I’m gonna be even stronger now!

Edelgard, smiling: (Made for hugging. Right.)

Raphael: Oh! I didn’t see you there, Edelgard! Need something? I was just going to the dining hall. I’m starving, I gotta feed my muscles while they’re bulging. Wanna come with?

Edelgard: I was about to invite you to come with me, so yes.

Raphael: Really? Well, alright, then! Food tastes better when you’re eating with someone else, I always say!

Scene changes to the Dining Hall.

Raphael: *munch munch* You’re eating so little! Here, have a bit of mine! That’s why you didn’t grow at all during these years! C’mon, eat more!

Edelgard: I have had my fill, Raphael, thank you. Besides, I wanted to ask you something. But perhaps after you do not have food all over yourself.

Raphael: Huh? I’m only getting started! C’mon, ask anything you want! Today’s meat is so good I think I’ll just stay here and eat till it’s breakfast again!

Edelgard: Heh, very well then. I wanted to ask the reason why you allied yourself with the Empire even though that meant war against the Alliance where you were born. Oftentimes you’ve mentioned how much you enjoyed the village you grew up in.

Raphael: *snarfs* Hm? But that’s easy! My village is in the territory of a noble who���s on the side of the Empire, so we never really needed to attack it. ‘Sides, Claude’s doing a good job of holding everyone together in the Alliance, so I’m not worried ‘bout my little sis back there. And since I was worried ‘bout THIS little sis here, I had to come with to protect her!

Edelgard, surprised: ...

Raphael: *munch munch* You okay? You stopped eating.

Edelgard: I am… astonished. Are you truly keeping your promise from when we were students? And still seeing me as your little sister?

Raphael: Muh? Aren’t you? I said I’d always help you out as your brother, so if you don’t see me as a Big Bro anymore, that’s fine by me. I’ll still stay by your side to protect you, though! It’s kinda like my duty now, you know?

Edelgard: I… see. That is very kind of you, Raphael, as I remember I keep mentioning.

Raphael: *slurp* Nah, it’s fine. I really just want to help you however I can ‘cause I wanna protect your future. I can’t do anything ‘bout your past but I can always offer up my hugging muscles! See? Hrrk! They’re in top form today!

Edelgard, smiling: As always, I see.

Edelgard: I appreciate everything you do, Raphael. Once again, allow me to thank you.

Raphael: No problem! Now, you gonna eat that or not? Oh, I can ask Ms. Cook to bring out those cupcakes you like!

Edelgard: That would be lovely.

[a-simple-imagine]

Thunderstorms

Requested by anonymous: R and N are dating, but N doesn't know R is afraid of thunderstorms. The reason R is afraid of them is because R has PTSD from Infinity War, and thunder reminds R of explosions and stuff. So when R gets skittish during a thunderstorm Natasha gets suspicious.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader

Words: 1507

A/N- I don’t know much about PTSD but I tried. I did some reading and I hope this is to your liking anon.

You stare up at the grey clouds that block out the blue sky. Willing them to pour down rain or go away so you can enjoy the sun but they linger. Making the day gloomy and bringing a sense of uncertainty with them. A pit forms in your stomach, one you can't quite shake as you wonder about what's to come.

"What are you doing?" You're pulled from your thoughts to see your girlfriend walking towards you.

"Nothing." You respond warmly, glancing briefly back to the clouds. "It looks like it's gonna rain."

"Probably will." She tells you, looking up as well. "I heard there's a storm coming."

You don't inform her of how the pit in your stomach grows thanks to her words. Your hand searches for hers which she gladly accepts, intwining your fingers. "Let's go inside."

You nod at her request and she leads you back into the Avengers’ facility. The place has felt so empty since half losing to Thanos. Those left found other ways to occupy their time. Only you and Natasha really stayed here anymore. Not many visitors either. Steve occasionally came to visit which was nice. You also sat in on her meetings but they were over communication lines so it wasn't the same. However, you liked it that way. It was peaceful and you got to spend a lot of time with Natasha as a result. Laying on the couch, head rested on Natasha's lap as she read a book. The cover was missing so you weren't quite sure what she was reading but she looked highly invested. One of her hands playing with your hair. It was relaxing. So much so your eyelids were threatening to flutter closed. You bring one hand up to hide your oncoming yawn.

"Tired?" The woman above you asks, looking down to you. You offer up a soft smile.

"A little,"

"I don't mind you taking a nap on me," She offers with a quick smile before going back to her book.

"If I sleep now, I'll have a harder time later," you inform her, turning onto your side.

"Do you want me to stop playing with your hair then? I'll shuffle every couple minutes to keep you awake."

You just chuckle, grabbing your phone for something to do. A sigh of content leaving your lips. A comfortable silence fills the room as you each do your own thing. You can hear the page turn every few minutes or so. The peace is interrupted by a loud rumbling which makes you shoot up from your spot. Headbutting the book right out of the redhead's hands. You glance around the room but it's empty. A bright flash catches your eye. Natasha was right. It was a thunderstorm. An utterly confused Natasha pick up her book and closes it over.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you mumble, nodding a little. "The sound just...caught me off guard."

Her eyes linger on your for a moment, her brows furrow. You're not convinced she believes you but she doesn't press the matter further. You collect your phone from the floor, checking that you hadn't cracked the screen. You flinch, your body tensing up as the roar of thunder filled the room once more.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," you stutter, trying to calm yourself down. With a heavy sigh, you rise to your feet and take a quick look at Natasha. She met your gaze, giving you a smile before you retire to your bedroom. You two had been dating for a while but still had separate rooms. They became almost essential after the snap. As much as you enjoyed spending time with Natasha, you still needed alone time. Stumbling inside, You slammed the door behind you. Rooting through the bedside cabinet you pull out a pair of black headphones, placing them over your ears. Thank god for noise canceling headphones. You connect the wire to your phone and play some music to relax. Laying down on the bed, you bury yourself in the duvet. You don't know how long you lay there trying to drown out the sound of the storm. It's not working. Your brain acknowledges the faint sounds of battle happening in the world. You instantly panic, kicking your legs and sitting up as a hand falls to your side. Yanking the headphones to your neck.

"Hey, calm down- it's just me." Natasha holds her hands up in surrender. You take a deep centering breath, falling back down against the bed. Turning away from the other woman.

"You know you can talk to me rig-" Her words are soft, drowned out by the thunder that erupted mid-sentence. She seemingly waits until the room is silent again before continuing. "About whatever is bothering you."

You nod against the pillow. You don't want to burden her with your problems, they seem silly almost. Definitely not worth airing to the infamous Black Widow. After the battle in Wakanda, you had been dealing as well as you can. You had mostly come to terms with the loss- arguably more so than Natasha. You knew she blamed herself. They all did. Even you felt a twinge of guilt over the teams' failure but it affected people in different ways. Natasha was still trying to save the world- or at least what was left of it. You were simply trying to let go but that was harder said than done. The storm didn't seem like it was going to stop anytime soon and if anyone could help right now, it was probably Natasha. You feel the bed dip beside you and you know her eyes are searching for a hint of an explanation. Her arms snake around you, trapping you in her grip. You try to find comfort in her actions but they just add to your uneasy feeling. They make you... tense. They feel suffocating. You immediately push out of her grip.

"Do you ever think about it?" You ask softly after a moment. The sound of heavy rain thundering down.

"Thank about what?" She replies.

"...Wakanda?"

"Oh," Her tone sounds surprised. "Of course. Do you?"

"All the time..." you nod a little as you speak, fist balling around the duvet. "that's why I don't like storms they... take me back to that day."

The sound of heavy rain fills the room. A flash of lightning. The silence is awkward. You can't help but wonder what's going on in that head of hers. After a moment, she speaks up again. "How bad is it?"

You sit up in bed, your shoulders rising in a little shrug "I don't have too many triggers. I'm usually fine but I don't know... storms are different. I hear the sound and I'm transported back to Wakanda. I can hear every sound. See every sight. Smell every... smell. It's like I have to relive it over and over and over again. I try to hide from it. Bury myself away but I just can't escape. It's too loud and suffocating."

Natasha's green eyes never leave yours until you drop your head. Embarrassed about your own feelings. Another bang of thunder makes you flinch. "I..." You pull your knees to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut. "D-doesn't matter how many storms I go through, It's... it's always the same." You swallow hard. "I came up here because I didn't want you to think I was weak. I'm not weak... I- I promise I'm not."

"Y/N, I could never think you're weak." She places a soft kiss against your temple cautious as to not startle you. "I was with you on that battlefield. You were fierce. You were Powerful. You were... anything but weak. This doesn't change that, nothing ever will."

You glance to her before shaking your head. You felt anything but strong. You hated that you were like this. That you couldn't just let the whole thing go. The alien monsters. The gunfire. The explosions. Everyone disappearing. It all haunted you like a ghost. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"Is it working?" she quipped, a lighthearted chuckle passing her lips. You didn't see the funny side. "The fact that you told me all this proves just how strong you are."

You lock eyes with the redhead.

"Tell me what I can do? How I can help."

"I don't know." You explain. "You can't exactly stop the nightmares- or the storm."

"How about I stay right here with you until the storms over? You don't have to talk to me or even acknowledge my existence but just don't push me away. I want to be here with you."

She places her hand on your shoulder but you shake her off. "Don't touch me."

"Okay."

You lay back down, staring out the window at the rain and the lightning that follows. It makes you think of Thor. "Can you just... talk please?"

"About?" Natasha asks softly.

"Doesn't matter. Just talk."

"Sure, anything you want..."

[sleepychai-fics]

Keith x Reader - A Lion’s Comfort

Not requested just something i thought up of and procrastinated on.

trigger warning: putting a small one on panic attacks nothing too severe it just talks about the procedure of a panic attack and what occurs.

i just dont want anyone to be triggered by anything i write so im trying to be careful with these.

no pronouns = gender neutral

Tag List:

@fanderrawr​ @thecinnabitch​ @dontcallmecedge​

Words: 1990

trigger warning starts straight away

Too much. It’s all too much. The voices, inside and outside, talking ceaselessly. The air begins to grow heavy, as if my lungs refuse to fill up completely. I feel my body begin to shake, most evidently my hands. I barely comprehend my movement as my feet start to shuffle back. It isn’t until I hit a door do I turn around, finally managing to sprint away from the room, the automatic door barely managing to open up in time to let me pass.

Black spots encase my vision, my breaths getting shorter and shorter with every second that passes. I want to stop, to collapse, to pass out, but a gentle force pulls me down the corridor.

It’s unexplainable, but it’s as if the force is providing me the energy to keep running, to stop myself from falling down, numbing my senses in a way.

Many rooms pass me, I barely recognise what they are and even where I am at this point, but something keeps pulling me. Countless turns later I find myself slowing down towards an isolated door. It opens automatically, letting me collapse through.

Through my clenched shut eyes, I hear the door close. My breathing comes in painful, short gasps, my lungs barely allowing enough air in. Tears freely flow from my eyes, no chance in stopping them anytime soon.

I struggle to push myself up against the wall, but I manage to do so, with barely any strength left.

I stay there, body pushed against the wall, my chest heaving painfully as my lungs continue to refuse the breath they desperately need. I cough and wheeze in pain, I almost don’t recognise myself sliding down the wall, laying down against the wall.

My head pounds in tremendous pain, my ears ringing in constant pain. I scratch down the wall, my fingers straining for something to grip onto.

Just as I feel myself droop towards unconsciousness, I feel that same force that lead me here. It’s as if now it’s giving me the breath I need as I manage to inhale a big gulp of air. Then another one.

A few minutes pass of just lying there, slowly recovering as oxygen once again circulates around my body. My head stops pounding and the ringing in my ears dial down to a minimum. I feel my arms slowly regain their lost strength.

I lay there, gasping and groaning, my heart beat slowing down from its previous raced pace. I open my eyes, the black spots disappearing after a few passing seconds.

I blink up at the high ceiling, tears escaping and dribbling down my face. I weakly turn my head, wanting to get a proper look of the room I currently occupy, only to come to a different realisation.

Red’s glowing yellow eyes seem to stare at me, her body being poised in a cautious stance. Not threatening but more like fear of getting to close. I hear her purring rumble throughout my ears, as if it’s right next to me.

I look around, confirming to myself that I’m in her hangar. Her soothing purrs resonate throughout my mind, letting me relish in tranquillity and peace. I use the wall to my advantage and grip it, using it to help me stand up.

I grunt and tighten my grip on the wall, my legs shaking underneath me, still getting used to their regained strength.

I refocus my gaze on Red, realising her change in stance.

She’s a little bit closer to me now, this time laying down on her stomach. I stare at her, her yellow eye glinting at me. I feel her communicate with me, ideas and realisation flooding into my brain.

“You….You brought me here?” My voice is strained and raspy, small droplets of tears still spilling from my eyes.

Her reply comes shortly after. I gasp as images of Keith flashes through my vision, a feeling of peace and contentment washing over me.

“Keith?” I whisper.

Red purrs once again, feeding me with more emotions, surges of faith, certainty, and assurance rushing through me.

I stare at her in disbelief. “Keith trusts me?” I ask her.

Her purring reply clearly indicating a yes.

I look away briefly, piecing together her meaning. I slowly look back at her, noticing her head being propped between to two front paws.

“Keith trusts me, a lot. So, now…you trust me?” I question her.

I don’t expect the affirmative answer that rushes to me. I let out a surprising squeak as her mouth hisses open, the ramp slowly descending towards me. I stare at it in slight fear and confusion, before Red purrs in reassurance.

I stare at her cautiously, flicking from her eyes to the extended ramp. I make up my decision, balancing myself on my feet before staggering towards the ramp. I slowly waddle up the ramp, placing my hand on her mouth, using it as support. I look ahead, red lights glowing and surging with energy, urging me to continue forward. I do so in a slow, balancing pace. As I make it to the top of her mouth, I turn back, staring as the ramp slowly retreats back into Red. I return my gaze in front of me, a t-intersection a few steps ahead, one leading up some stairs and another leading down another straight hallway.

I stare in shock and amazement as the stairs light up in a bright red. I smile lightly and walk up the stairs, hands gripping the rails in support. The stairs lead me to another single hallway, the end of it extending to a circular room. As I enter the room, a door slides open.

I stare at the door as it opens and reveals Red’s cockpit.

Lights illuminate in a bright and dull red. A wave of tranquillity washes over me as the once dark screens flicker awake and reveals the hangar.

I slowly step towards the control panel, looking at the screen and getting a bird’s eye-view of the hangar. The floor seems to grow farther away as Red returns to her usual sitting position. I let out a content sigh and smile. I look at the seat behind me, seeing the cushions of the seat glow a faint red, almost luring me towards it.

I hesitantly place my hand on the arm rest. After seeing nothing change, I reluctantly sit down in it. It’s almost as if the chair was welcoming me as warmth sprouts through me. A sense of relief and security floods through me.

I smile again, bringing my knees to my chest and leaning back, my thumb gently caressing the armrest.

“Thank you, Red.” I whisper.

Red purrs once again. Before I even sense it, I let my eyes close, welcoming the peaceful sleeps that awaits me.

I startle awake, arms instinctively clinging to the closest object.

“Hey! It’s just me. Calm down, I’ve got you.” Keith’s voice calms me down as I quickly regain my composure, Keith’s arms securing me in a bridal hold.

I stare at him in a sleepy haze before looking around. The lights in the cockpit changed from their bright luminescent glow to a dim glow. The screen is turned off and the control panel gleams slightly, being the only light that barely lights up the room.

I look back at Keith who eyes me with worry and caution. Tears sting my eyes and I fight profusely against them. I bury my head into his chest, hugging him tighter with my arms.

“I’m sorry Keith.” Sobs threaten to escape.

“Shhh Shhh, don’t cry. Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” Keith assures me, his thumb brushing my shoulder as he begins to slowly trek out of the cockpit. I feel Red’s calming purrs rupture through the bond, quickly exterminating the threatening tears.

I breath heavily into his chest using Red’s purring and Keith’s warmth as comfort and support.

I wince as bright lights shine through my eyes lids, white consuming my vision. I blearily blink away the temporary blindness and peek out of Keith’s chest. One look at Allura and Shiro and I squint away the tears, once again burying my face into Keith’s chest.

Keith stops his movement and hugs me closer to him, mumbling something to Allura and Shiro. I tune out to the conversation and nuzzle further into Keith. I feel his thumb give assuring strokes across my shoulder.

A few seconds later Keith begins to walk again. I feel him shift slightly as we walk further down the hallways. Minutes later I hear a door hiss open and the bright lights are substituted for dim lights.

The warmth of Keith disappears and I feel him lower me onto the softness of the mattress. I whine and tighten my hold on his neck as his arms slither away from me.

“(Y/n), calm down.” He whispers, hands gently clasping my arms. I open my eyes and blearily stare at him. “Let me take off my armour and I’ll come right back to you. I promise.”

I slowly loosen my grip and let him guide my hands down to the mattress. He smiles gently down at me before dipping down and pecking my forehead. He stands up almost immediately after.

I watch him carefully as he makes quick action in removing his armour, revealing his black shirt and pants. He dumps his armour against the wall and strides back over to me.

I shift back, giving him more room to slip in. He situates himself on his side, grabbing the blanket and pulling it up. I feel his arm snake underneath me and begin to drag me closer to him. I comply and nestle into his warm embrace. He tucks the blanket around me, coating me in warmth and contentment.

Once ensuring I’m almost completely consumed in the blanket, he places a protective hand on my head.

“What lead you to Red?” His voice barely breaks through the silence of the room.

I reply with the same hushed quietness. “She did.”

“What do you mean?” His confusion completely laces with his voice.

“I don’t really know how to explain it. I just felt the need to run, I didn’t even know where I was going ‘til I got there. It was like she was giving me the energy to run and lead me to her.”

Keith remains silent for a few seconds, the silence speaking his mind. He then nuzzles my nose and pecks his lips on my hair, placing his hand atop my head, pulling me flush against him.

I relax against him, hearing his heart beat rhythmically in his chest.

“I’m sorry for dragging you there tonight. I should’ve known you wouldn’t have been comfortable.” He apologises whilst combing his fingers through my hair.

I scoff. “It was my decision to go. I thought I would be able to handle it.” I nuzzle my nose into his neck, breathing in his husky scent.

“I know but I should’ve at least looked out for you.” Keith moves his legs, laying them atop mine in a protective manner.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters now is that you’re here.” I assure him as my fingers play on the ends of his mullet.

It’s then do I feel another purr emit from Red, thoughts of care and respect seeping into my mind.

Keith pulls away and looks down at me with open shock. I stare at him with wonder and disbelief. I feel my spine shudder as Red continues her purring, extending the thoughts to admiration.

A smile breaks out onto Keith’s face and before I have time to react, he kisses my noses.

“She likes you.” His voice is giddy and careless. “Fuck I love you so much.”

I giggle at his excitement and snuggle into him. Our quiet giggles are silenced, our soft breathing being the only quiet sound remaining.

In a matter of minutes, we fall asleep in content, tangled up in each other’s embrace.

[potter-loves-malfoy]

4 for smut?

4. “Are you trying to turn me on right now or are you really just that oblivious?”

(This turned into a full-blown ficlet so I decided to give it a title, also thank you so much @cubedcoffeecake for the beta, I love and appreciate you)

Sugar Quills And The Chosen Prick

When the Wizengamot let him stay out of Azkaban—on the condition that Draco both returned to Hogwarts for the new Eighth Year and shared a room with Harry Potter—he’d thought it was a miracle.

Now, Draco thinks he’d prefer rooming with Greyback in Azkaban over being here with Potter. It isn’t that Potter is being hostile towards him or anything; that Draco knows how to deal with. No, it’s much worse than that.

Potter is being friendly and polite and calling him Draco, and Merlin, it’s making Draco lose his mind. There’s also the fact that he keeps sauntering around their room half-naked—at best. It’s not even a month into the school year and Draco has seen much more of Potter’s chosen arse than he can handle. It is getting to the point where Draco thinks that Potter somehow found out that Draco’s gay and is doing this on purpose to punish Draco for his war crimes.

Right now, for example, Potter is lying face down on his bed, shirtless and in his pants, sucking obscenely on a sugar quill. Draco has had sugar quills countless times but never once has he felt compelled to make sounds quite like the ones Harry is making.

Draco wants to say something—a snarky comment about how that’s probably the most action Potter’s ever got—but he can’t bring himself to look away from how Potter’s lips close around the quill-shaped sweet and his tongue wraps around it as if it’s…

The thought is distracting enough that Draco fails to notice how Potter’s eyes are no longer fixed on his Advanced Transfigurations book but on Draco instead.

“Draco, is something wrong?” Potter says, bringing Draco out of his trance. “You’ve been staring for a while now.”

Draco feels his face heat up and wills his skin to stay it’s usual pale colour. “I-I’m fine, Potter.” Draco stumbles over his words, internally cursing himself for it. “I was just wondering how you can eat something so sugar-filled. You’re not eleven anymore, though your actions suggest otherwise.”

Bloody Hell, why do insults no longer come to him naturally? The worst part in all this is that Potter actually seems concerned.

“Are you sure?” he asks. “You seem a bit flushed, do you have a fever?”

With that Potter sits up and fucking crawls to the edge of his bed. He raises his hand up towards Draco’s forehead. The moment that Potter’s fingertips touch Draco’s forehead, Draco jumps back and walks backwards into the bathroom they share, tripping over his feet ever so slightly. He yells about being fine all throughout.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Draco walks into the showers after the “friendly” game of Quidditch between the eighth years —they aren’t allowed on the house teams because they’re not actually in their respective houses anymore.

Flying against Potter had always been a thrill but that was never because Draco was thirsting over Potter. That is, until now. Draco wonders how he ever survived games against Gryffindor—Potter—before. It should be illegal to look so good in quidditch leathers. Now that Draco thinks about it, maybe this is why Slytherin almost always lost against Gryffindor: because Draco couldn’t be a functional human being when Potter was in Quidditch gear.

Draco’s thought process is stalled by the sound of a shower turning on. Apparently, Draco didn’t wait long enough to be alone in the showers. Draco huffs, about to walk back out of the showers and head to his room, when he hears it: a moan, followed by a content sigh.

Draco halts. No one would be relieving themselves in the communal showers, right? Another moan cuts through the silence and Draco turns toward the source of the sound because it sounds familiar. He walks silently to the last stall, where he sees the Chosen Arse yet again.

With Draco’s luck, he really shouldn’t be surprised that it’s Potter. Alas, he is and he once again can’t do much more than stand there and gawk at his roommate’s arse. Of course, Potter chooses that exact moment to let out another salacious moan, his hands roaming over his chest and back. Potter isn’t doing anything essentially sexual, but Draco thinks that Potter couldn’t be more erotic if he was having the wildest wank ever.

Draco must make some kind of noise then because Potter whips around, eyes blown wide. Potter flushes, and Draco knows that his own face must look very similar to Potter’s rapidly reddening one. “I wanted this shower,” Draco explains––lies––trying to keep his eyes from wandering further down Potter’s body, “but I can see that it’s occupied so I’ll see you later, Potter.”

Draco practically runs out of the showers. He doesn’t slow down until he gets to his shared room with Potter. And if he’s caught a glance of The Saviours cock before running out, he tries not to think about it.

He fails.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Draco is certain that Harry Potter is trying to kill him. They’ve been roommates for about two months now and Draco feels that he’s about to die of sexual frustration at any given minute. Potter’s taking a shower and while Draco is really trying to pay attention to his Potions essay, he can’t seem to think of anything but the day he walked in on Potter in the showers.

Draco’s seen Potter’s arse many times��both before and after that day—but Merlin, he keeps thinking of how it looked that day. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Potter’s bloody perfect arse with drops of water trailing down and disappearing in the crack. Bloody hell, Draco needs to get a grip.

He wishes Blaise or Pansy or Goyle were there so they could knock some sense into Draco.

Draco drops his quill and rubs at his temples, as if that would help get rid of the mental image of Potter and his Chosen Arse. He stands up from his desk and starts pacing the room.

He has to do something to fix this. He doesn’t know if he can take this another day, let alone for the rest of the school year. He supposes he can talk to McGonagall and ask if he can have a room transfer without the Ministry finding out about it, or ask if they could put like a divider in the middle of their room or something. He doesn’t know how he’d say “I’m too gay to function with Potter around” when asked for his reasoning though, so maybe not.

“Draco!” Potter calls to him from the bathroom. “I forgot my towel. Can you bring one in for me?”

Draco blanches. “You’re a wizard! Why can’t you just summon one? Or cast a hot air charm on yourself?”

“I don’t have my wand,” Potter yells back. “I’ll burn myself if I try to do that wandless.”

“I could probably manage an Accio though,” Potter says, swinging open the door to the bathroom and Draco’s jaw drops. Because Potter is standing at the door in all his naked glory. Drops of water are falling down his too long hair onto his sculpted chest, travelling down to his soft-but-still-quite-impressive-in-size cock and Draco can’t––doesn’t really want to either––look away from it.

Potter raises his hand and waves it once, murmuring the incantation. A fluffy white towel comes flying into Potter’s hands. He uses it to wipe his face and rubs it at his hair carelessly, not bothering to cover himself. Meanwhile, Draco is still gawking at the Chosen Prick.

And then, before his brain can catch up with his mouth, Draco speaks. “Are you trying to turn me on right now or are you really just that oblivious?” Draco’s eyes widen as he realizes what exactly he’s said. “I-I mean, put some clothes on, Potter, you’re highly indecent.”

Potter takes a big step towards Draco, towel still not quite covering his parts. “Well, that depends. Are you turned on?” He takes another step closer. He’s less than half a metre away from Draco now, and Draco has half a mind to step back. “If you’re not,” another step forward, another step back. “Then I have no clue,” another step. “What you’re talking about.” Draco’s breathing is heavy as Potter takes yet another step closer to him and Draco falls back on Potter’s bed. “But if you are…” Harry trails off, leaning over top of Draco, his face mere centimetres from Draco’s.

He can feel Potter’s breath on his lips. He can see the flecks of orange in Potter’s gorgeously green eyes. He could probably count the lashes on Potter’s eyes, but he doesn’t think he can focus on numbers right now. He doesn’t even think that he can remember his full name.

Potter leans in the slightest bit more, leaving barely any room between their lips. Draco registers it as a challenge. He’s normally not one to back away from a challenge but Potter’s so close and their breaths are mixing together and he can feel Potter’s arms next to his own keeping him from leaving—-not that Draco really wants to try to anyway. Potter is naked and wet and on top of him. He’s on top of Draco and he’s wet. And naked.

Draco lets out an involuntary moan when he just can’t take it anymore. He pushes up ever so slightly on his elbows, latching his lips onto Potter’s. They kiss fervently for what feels like ages before Potter pulls away, leaving their foreheads touching.

“I was wondering when you’d finally crack. I was starting to think that you were straight after all,” Potter says with a smirk, making his way onto the bed. Draco wants to feel the smirk on Potter’s lips on his own and make it disappear.

“Shut up, Potter,” Draco says, wrapping his arms around Potter’s neck and pulling him down by his still-wet hair.

“Call me Harry,” Po- Harry says, just before meeting Draco’s lips once more. Draco thinks he might as well start calling Potter “Harry” if he’s going to keep snogging him. And really, Draco has no intention of stopping anytime soon.

[mentallyinwalmart]

‘Neighbors’ A Cresswoth AU

Not many people bothered my in my apartment. I was one of three studios on the fifth floor, and the rest of this floor was occupied by the mammoth AC and heating units, making the noise level high, but the rent low. 

The floor consisted of me, a grad student, my neighbor two doors down who had about a hundred cats that she hid on the roof whenever the super came by to fix something, and the empty apartment between us. Oh, and the temperature regulation units, and the occasional pigeon that wandered in from the often open door to the roof. 

That is, until this morning, when a whole mess of banging and cursing could be heard coming from the hall outside my door. And then, what sounded like someone trying to key into my apartment. I jumped up from my chair, dropping my book where I’d been sitting and dashed across the room, not bothering to look through the peep hole and yanking open my front door to reveal--

A boy who looked no older than I was fumbling with a set of keys, his cheeks flushing as he looked at me, then past me into my apartment. 

“I--” He stammered as his eyes moved back to my face, still managing to scan and catalog my whole face despite seeming very flustered. 

“Do you often like to break into the apartments of young women?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I let my eyes rove over his smooth waves of hair, his piercing dark eyes, and his unfairly sharp jawline. I feel a slight tingle in my chest and curse my would-be intruder for being someone I would normally try and hit on. “Or am I a special case?” 

“The super told me 503. But obviously,” He seems to have searched every inch of me and decided he liked what he found because the blush fades from his cheeks and he leans into my doorframe. “He was mistaken.”

He shoots me a cocky grin before pushing off the doorframe and taking a step back. As he does so, the elevator dings and the doors open to reveal a heap of boxes, loose books, furniture, and the most hauntingly beautiful girl I have ever seen. Her long dark hair hangs in curtains around her face, and her face looks as though it was sculpted from marble. From the way she is dressed, to the way she carries herself, even as she holds two precariously stacked boxes, she looks like she stepped straight out of a renaissance painting. 

I drag my gaze away from her and back to the boy in the hall who is studying me as I stare at the girl in the elevator. I shoot him a dirty look before moving to close my door, but not before I hear the woman call in a voice so sickeningly low and melodic, 

“Found the room Thomas?” 

Thomas

He raises his eyebrows at the girl, eyes drifting back to me, but before he can speak, I do. 

“502 is yours.” I let my gaze rove over him one last time as I gesture to the apartment across the hall. “Hope you aren’t allergic to cats.” 

I close my door on my beautiful new neighbor and his even more captivating girlfriend, moving across the room to get back to my book.

But my day is unproductive. Noise of laughter and light-hearted bickering coming consistently from the hallway until finally, it fades into the usual silence, broken up only by the loud banging of the AC units.

I take a pause midway through the evening, deciding to change into my pajamas and make a cup of tea. I pull on some large boxer shorts and a cut-up T-shirt that boasted that “I dig bones”. I had tried to explain to Liza that this was an archeologist joke, not a forensics joke, but she had insisted on buying it for me anyway. I tied my hair into a high ponytail and finish my assigned reading while nursing my cup of tea.

 Just as I finally begin to outline my thesis and begin to feel as if perhaps I won’t lose this whole day to my new neighbor, a knock comes at my door.

Assuming it is Mrs Harvey here to ask me to retrieve one of her cats from the roof I pad over to the door. Out of habit, I open the door without checking the peep hole and, for the second time that day am faced with my annoyingly attractive new neighbor. Thomas. 

“Can I ask you a favor?” He keeps his eyes fixed firmly on my face, and I notice his own jaw seems clenched and his cheeks slightly pale. “There are about a million spiders that have just emerged from a drawer in my kitchen, and I can’t get ahold of the super.” 

For some reason, I nod. 

“Let me just fetch a few glasses.” 

He looks perplexed but I leave him at the door, quickly grabbing a large bowl, a glass, and a piece of card stock from my desk before returning to the hall. He looks as though he wants to question me, but decides against it, simply leading the way into his apartment.

It is an absolute mess. The only room that seems to be properly set up is the bedroom, the rest of them a state of disarray, boxes and random objects piled up everywhere. The layout is nearly identical to mine, and I know my way to the kitchen without his direction. 

He points to the drawer, hanging back at the edge of the kitchen as I venture closer. On the counter are three fat daddy long legs, somewhat formidable in size, but not at all concerning to anyone over the age of seven. Except apparently this giant baby. I quickly trapped all three of them under the bowl, spotting a fourth skittering across the counter. I quickly trap that one under the spare glass, and drag it across the counter before slipping the paper under both dishes. 

Thomas practically jumps out of my way as I march through the kitchen, out the door, down the hall, and onto the roof. I let the spiders go in the roof garden before turning on my heel to see Thomas standing just past the threshold of the door. 

“That was impressive.” Is all he says, and for the first time I can see him taking in my outfit, pausing for just a moment too long as he takes in my torso, eyes lingering on where my nipples are visible through my shirt, erected by the cool night air. 

I raise an eyebrow as I take in his clothing, his faded pajama pants and baggy concert t-shirt a clear indication that he too had been winding down for the evening.

Silence hangs about us in the air, and I realize it is my turn to speak. But I can’t think of anything, so I simply stare at him, tucking my dishes under my arm. 

“Let me repay you.” He says with a smile, “Dinner.” I flush and he grins, “I can’t offer much, being a broke grad student and all, but I can offer some of the leftovers my sister left in my fridge.” 

My brain whirs, catching on the word sister. So that was the beautiful girl he was with! Now that I knew to look, the family resemblance was there. I offer him a smile, stepping towards him. 

“Thank you, Thomas. That sounds lovely.” I walk over to him, stopping just before him.

He raises an eyebrow, 

“Anytime, Audrey Rose.”

I started, 

“How did you.”

But he grinned, 

“A magician never reveals his tricks.” I shake my head and step to move past him but he puts a hand on my waist, “But it was on your mailbox.” 

My heart flutters at his touch and his words in equal measure. He looked at my mailbox. A weird thing to be excited about, but I didn’t let myself get bogged down by my own cynicism. 

We eat, drink, and make merry, talking about everything from politics, to our classes in school, to whose grad program is better. By the end of the night I am very content with my new neighbor, especially when he insists on walking me home. 

I laugh as we walk across the hall and he gallantly opens my door for me. 

“This was good fun, Audrey Rose.” He says with a smile that lights up his eyes, “I would love to do it again.” 

He leans towards me and my heart flutters, is he really going to? But before I can mortify myself by leaning in as well, he plucks the phone from my hand. He types in a few numbers and ringing can be heard from somewhere in his apartment. 

“Now you have my number.” He says, “I encourage you to use it.” 

I smile as he bows his head slightly before turning away to go back into his apartment. I close the door and lean back against it, holding the phone as though it contained the most precious secret on earth, staring at that glorious set of numbers glowing back at me. 

AAAAAAAA thank you so much for reading!!! I loved writing this so much I’m thinking of making it a series. Would you guys want to read two or three more that come from this AU? 

xx

[blueboycal]

Give Love A Try - Part 1

REQUEST: Can you write another Calum imagine where he's loved you for a long time and Ashton finally gets him to tell you but you don't feel the same but days later the boys help you realize that you actually do love him and then fluff 

WARNINGS: none

PAIRING: Calum x poc!reader

WORD COUNT: 1,785

 Calum sat at the bar observing the others around him. A blonde took the seat next to him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see she was wearing a lacy black top, blue jean shorts and thigh high boots.

 "Hey handsome." She flashed him a smile while tossing her hair over her shoulder. He turned his head to get a better look.

 "Want to dance?" 

 "No thanks." Calum replied. He watched the blondes smile disappear. She stormed away into the crowd.

 "That girl was totally into you." He turned to see Ashton looking bewildered. He was occupying the seat the girl had abandoned. Calum shrugged his shoulders and drank the shot that sat in front of him. 

 "Let me guess, you're still hung up on __." 

 "No." He lied.

 "Cal, you're an awful liar." His friend called out to the bartender and ordered two more drinks. 

 "When are you going to tell her?" Ashton asked turning towards him. 

 "Tell her what?" Calum furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

 "That you're in love with her." He stated. 

 "Never." 

 "Why not?"

 "Because I don't want to ruin our friendship." Him and Y/N had been friends for over a year. He could clearly recall the day they met. Her long brown curls spilled down her shoulders. She was standing next to a box full of vinyls. She wore black jeans and a grey t-shirt. He watched as she pushed up her black framed glasses. She reached down and began restocking the shelf. He was captivated by her. Somehow he remembered to move his feet and they carried him in her direction. He had no clue what to say.

 "Hey." Calum blurted out. She turned around and looked up. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. Calum Hood was standing right in front of her.

 "Hi." She squeaked out. 

 "Uh, how can I help you?" She stammered out.

 Calum was suddenly tongue tied, just like she was but for a different reason. "I uh, need help finding a record." He gave her a smile. 

 She put on hand on the step stool beside her praying her knees wouldn't give out on her. Her eyes darted towards the box on the floor. Her cheeks were turning red. 

 "What's it called?" Calum scratched the back of his neck. His brain felt like mush. "That's The Spirit." 

 "Its closer to the front." 

 "Oh." 

 "Can you show me where I'd find it?" He asked. 

 "Yes." She grabbed the box and set it on the table.

 "Follow me." Her sneakers squeaked on the checkered floor. She ran her fingers over the stack of records near the front, she pulled out a black one with a white umber all on the front.

 "Here you go." Calum gently took it from her His eyes traveled to her name tag. 

"Thanks, ______." Butterflies filled her stomach at the sound of him saying her name.

 "Your Welcome, let me know if you need anything else. Calum."

 "How'd you know my name?"

 "How do you think?" She shook her head and walked back to the box of records she was shelving. 

 Calum sighed at the memory and drank another shot. He kept going back to that record store to see her.Most of the time he’d ask her a bunch of questions in order to keep talking with her. He eventually had the courage to ask her to hang out outside of work. They'd been inseparable since then.

 "You'll never know unless you say something. I mean you only-." He began.

 "Don't finish that sentence." Calum interrupted.

 Ashton took a sip of his drink. "If you don't tell her how you feel, you won't be able to get over her."

 "I don't want to be over her." He twisted the ring on his finger. 

 "Then do something. Please. I can't watch my best friend pine after a girl for the rest of his life." 

 "Just saying." Ashton said shrugging.

                                                         *** 

 Calum raised his ring clad hand and knocked on the apartment door. He repeated his actions several more times. The music that had been blaring from inside had been turned down. The door swung open revealing Y/N. She had on grey sweatpants, and a black 5sos hoodie. Her curls were pulled up into a bun on top of her head. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face upon seeing her. God she was beautiful.

 "Hey Cal." She smiled up at him.

 "Can I come in?" 

 She stood back and watched as he crossed the threshold. She closed the door and plopped down on the couch. He sat on the other side of the couch. Calum cleared his throat and messed with the strings on his green empathy hoodie. "Uh there's something I want to tell you." He looked over at her. 

 "Okay what is it?" She bit her lip in anticipation. Calum sat up straighter. It was now or never he thought.

 "I love you."

 "I love you too Calum." She giggled.

 "I mean as more than a friend." He held his breath waiting for her to respond. Her eyes went wide. She let go of the curl she was twirling. Calum loves her as more than a friend. She couldn't wrap her head around it. It made no sense. Why would he like her? 

 "Please say something." He whispered.

 "Um." She stammered, lost for words. 

 "Um?" Calum echoed.

 "I'm not sure what to say." She admitted. Her brown eyes met his. They were full of hope and confusion.

 "How long have you felt this way about me?"

 "A while."

 She sighed. Words lingered in the back of her throat. She was very surprised that he had romantic feelings for her. She didn't want to break her best friends heart but she didn't have a choice. 

 "I'm sorry, I love you but not in that way." Calum nodded his head and stood up. 

"I'll let myself out." He clutched the doorknob desperate to get out of there. He needed to put distance between them. Once he was outside of the apartment complex, he let the tears he'd been holding in fall. 

                                                      ***

 The doorbell rang and she let out a groan. Getting up from her spot on the bed she ran to the door. "For the last time I don't want to buy any steaks!" She began while opening the door. Instead of the guy who was their earlier Ashton, Luke, and Michael were standing in his place.

 "Oh it's you guys." She let out a sigh of relief.

 "Steaks? I want some." Luke said. 

 "Yeah you should've bought some. You never have anything to eat." Michael pouted.

 "That's because you guys eat everything that isn't nailed down." She shut the door as the boys made themselves at home in her apartment.

 "So what have you been up to?" Ashton asks.

 "I was catching up on Wynonna Earp, why?" 

 "Just curious. We haven't seen you in like three days." 

 "I've been working. I don't have to spend every waking moment up your ass."

 "I thought you liked it up there." Luke chuckled. She rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen. She began to dig through her fridge for a soda. She grabbed three and headed back into the living room. 

 "Well how are you guys?" 

 "Not so great actually." Ashton said. He cracked his knuckles.

 "Why's that?" She set the sodas down on the coffee table.

 "Oh maybe because you broke Calum." Luke chimed in.

 "Correction, you broke Calum's heart." Ashton stated. 

 "Yeah." Michael added as he slurped his soda. 

 "I knew something was up." She shook her head and sat in the empty chair. The boys usually came over to her place to eat and watch movies. This visit was too formal. Like she was being interrogated.

 "What happened between you and Calum?" Luke asked. 

 "Why do you think I broke Calum?" She fired back avoiding the question.

 "Because he came back from your place all sad and mopey." Ashton explained.

 "Wait, did you know that he liked me?" Her eyebrows scrunched in confusion. 

"Yeah, everyone knows. It's pretty obvious." 

 "Obvious to everyone but me." She slumped back in the chair. The thought of making Calum sad made her feel awful. When she first met Calum she did have a huge crush on him but over time it faded. She got to know him and she came to appreciate his friendship. She never thought in a million years he'd see her as anything but a friend or even pretty. He was on the road a lot and long distance relationships of any kind always failed. She'd lost friends and family relationships because of it. He was just Calum Hood. Her best friend. She couldn't understand why he would be in love with her.

 "I'm confused. I thought you liked Calum." Michael said 

 "I did at first but I don't anymore." She shrugged.

 "Why not?" 

 "I got over it." She shrugged. 

 "So if he asked you out on a date, you'd say no?" Ashton asked. 

 "Because I'm not his type!" 

“How do you know?” Ashton asked.

Because Calum wouldn’t date a girl who looks like me.” She had never said that out loud before, maybe it was her insecurities getting the best of her. It was in the back of her mind anytime she had a crush on someone, she was always out of their league.

“He doesn't care about what you look like, he’s clearly hot a thing for you.” Luke said. 

“You don’t understand! Every person who’s asked me out either wanted to piss off their racist parents or thought dating a black girl would somehow be different than dating a white girl. I was just an experiment to them.” Her voice echoed off the walls of the small apartment, she quickly wiped away tears that had managed to escape. 

Michael had silently gotten up from the couch and engulfed her in a hug. She wrapped her arms around his waist and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“I’m sorry you have to go through that (y/n).” Michael spoke softly. He broke the hug and stepped back. 

“Calum wouldn’t treat you like that, he likes you for you. Just give him a chance please.” Ashton pleaded.

“I’ll think about it.” She sat back down. 

“Yeah sad calum isn’t very fun to be around.” Luke declares. 

The boys had each given her a hug goodbye before opening the front door and trailing out into the hallway. She waved them off and shut the door. Returning to the couch she dropped her head into her hands and was thankful that she was finally alone again in her apartment. 

                                                     ***

A/N: This took way too long for me to write and a part 2 will be up at some point. Let me know what you think!

[aerynwrites]

More Than a Machine (Pt 2/2)

Connor/RK800 x Reader

PART 1

Authors Note: So here is part two! This will be the last part but i had fun writing this because angst lol, but i also just liked this idea in general. I hope you guys enjoyed this little two part journey, and if you have any requests i am still taking them! as always I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, cursing, i think thats it.

Word Count: 1.8k

Darkness is the first thing that greets you when you regain some sense of consciousness. The next thing you meet is an endless, droning beeping. And then your world explodes with light. The next few hours were chaotic, filled with people shining lights in your eyes and checking your heart rate and just making sure that you were actually alive.

And then there was silence.

The last nurse filed out of the room and a familiar face walked, holding two cups of steaming coffee. The old lieutenant smiled at you as he handed you one of the cups and pulled a chair up to the side of your bed.

“How ya’ feeling kiddo?” he asks

You shrug your shoulder and take a small sip of the hot beverage, “I feel fine…what happened Hank?” you asked.

Hank sighed and set his coffee down running a hand down his face, “Well, what’s the last thing you remember?”

You blinked, unsure of the last thing you remember. You think for a moment before speaking, “I remember trying to talk Connor down. Trying to stop him from killing Markus. And then…I don’t know. Its all blank after that.” You state.

“Well there is a lot to fill you in on,” Hank sighs again and leans back in his chair, “You’ve been out for almost a month.”

Your eyes widened, “a month?! H-how, how is that possible?” you ask your head reeling from the sudden realization that you’ve missed a month’ worth of time.

Hank leaned forward and rested a hand on your shoulder pushing you back into the bed slightly. “You were shot (Y/N). in the head. Your lucky to be alive. The bullet missed your brain completely, and they have no clue how it happened. I’d call that a miracle in my book.”

The minute the words left Hanks mouth, your last memory came rushing back, forcing its way to the forefront of your mind.

“Connor shot me.” you realized out loud, “he shot me, didn’t he Hank.”

“Now listen, before you go getting angry- “Hank interjected.

You held your hand up, “I’m not angry…surprisingly.” You stated, “Where is he?”

Hank shook his head, “He doesn’t want to see you.”

You scoffed, “he shot me, and he doesn’t want to see me? I think it should be the other way around.”

“No, I didn’t mean it- “Hank groaned quietly, “Look. He is really shook up about what happened. The minute it happened he realized what he did and broke free from his program. He’s the one who got you to the hospital on time, and probably saved your life.”

You continued to listen to Hank as he told you what happened. He caught you up on the androids’ victory in their revolution and how Connor broke into Cyberlife to help Markus’ cause.

He also told you about how Hank and Connor had been promoted as the heads of the new Android Crime Department at the DPD.

“You could help us run it when you get back on your feet.” Hank suggested.

You smiled and nodded, “I would love that. Speaking of which when do I get out of here?” you asked itching to get back to work, and hopefully speak to Connor, whether he wanted to or not.

The lieutenant laughed at your enthusiasm, “hopefully today. It just depends on if all your neurological tests come back okay.” He stated.

“They better, I don’t want to stay this place one more second.”

You ended up leaving that same day, however it was a few weeks before Fowler gave you the okay to go back to work. And they were the longest weeks of your life.

When you were finally able to go back to the DPD, you donned your officers’ uniform and breathed in the smell of the precinct as you walk back into the familiar environment. You walked to your desk and saw Connor occupying his usual spot in the desk next to yours and across from Hanks. You smiled as you saw him and called out his name.

“Connor!” you called walking towards the android.

You were just about to reach him when he abruptly stood, said something to Hank and walked off in the opposite direction. You frowned.

“I told you he didn’t want to see you.” Hank stated matter of factly.

You shrug halfheartedly, “I know, but…” your mind flashed back to that fateful night and how you confessed your feelings to a certain android right before he put a bullet in your head.

“I just thought he would be somewhat happy to see me.” your sadness quickly fades to frustration.

“Whatever. Let him do what he wants.” You say bitterly.

“(Y/N), it’s not like that you just have to give it time.” Hank defended.

You sigh dejectedly and nod. Maybe hank was right, Connor just needed time, he was probably eaten up with guilt.

So, you gave him a few weeks. And then a few weeks turned into months, and then months turned ever longer, and your patience had run out.

It wasn’t even coincidental avoidance anymore. It was intentional. Anytime you would walk into a room he would make eye contact with you and immediately find the quickest exit. Any text message you sent or phone call you made went ignored. And the few times you did manage to corner him he only referred to you as ‘officer’ and wouldn’t look you in the eye until he found a way to wiggle from your grasp. Today you wouldn’t let him get away, you were going to make him talk to you.

You managed to get Hank in on your plan considering he was getting tired of Connors antics as much as you were and told you to be at his house at six o’clock. You agreed and soon you were standing on Hanks front Porch ringing the doorbell. The door opened not long after you rang, and Connor stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and mouth slight ajar at the surprise of your visit.

“Officer (L/N), I was not aware you were coming. I was actually just leaving- “Hank cut Connor off, dragging him into the apartment while simultaneously inviting you in.

“No, you weren’t Connor.” Hank stated, “I’m leaving. And you two are going to work this shit out so we can actually get work done.” Hank scolded.

He grabbed his coat from the coat rack and walked out the front door, closing it with a loud bang.

You and Connor stood in silence for what felt like eternity before you spoke.

“What did I do Connor?” you asked feeling the lump in your throat start to form.

No. you thought. I can’t let him see me as weak. Not now.

Connor looked puzzled by your statement, “Officer, I don’t understand.”

You felt anger bubble up inside you as you stepped forward slightly shoving the android.

“Stop with the Officer bullshit! I think were way past formalities considering what happened.” You spat.

Connors LED spun red for a brief moment, he opened his mouth slightly to speak but you cut him off.

“Do you even remember what happened Connor? What I told you? I spilled my heart out to you! And then you fucking shot me! do you remember that? Do you- “

“Of course, I remember!” The android yells.

You fall silent at his outburst, you had never once seen him angry at you or anyone really. Connor continued.

“I remember every time I close my eyes. I remember every time I look at you, o-or hear your name.” his voice cracked. You didn’t even know that was possible.

“I remember every goddamn minute of my existence that I almost killed the most important person to me because I’m a machine!”

The room was crackling with tension as Connor finished his outburst. You didn’t know what to say right away, so you opted from slumping down onto the couch, emotionally exhausted. You felt the cushion sink even further as Connor sat next to you.

You looked over to him. you weren’t sure what to say, so you asked the one question still burning in your mind.

“Do you love me?” you asked in barely a whisper, afraid of what he would say.

Connor closed his eyes, his LED pulsed red before returning to a calm blue.

“yes…I think I do.” he says, “I’m still trying to grasp what it’s like to feel.”

you turned to face him fully, “Then why did you avoid me?”

Connor sighed, and looked over at you his brown eyes full of turmoil and sadness.

“because I was scared. I do know what that emotion is.” He stated.

You frowned slightly and reached out to grasp his hand, “Scared of what?”

Connor looked you directly in the eyes, “I’m scared of loving you. I’m scared that once I let myself get close to you again, they will just take control of me. I’m scared of losing you, of hurting you again.” He confesses.

“I’m not.” You state, “I’m not scared of you Connor.”

He looks up at you perplexed, “How can you not be scared of me? after what I did to you?”

You shook your head and smiled softly, “Because that wasn’t you.” You state. You grasp his shoulders and shake him slightly, “This is you,” you poke his nose where a slight blush has started to rise, “and this is you,” you run your hands through his hair, “and this is you,” and then you place your hand on his chest in the area where a heart would be if he were human, “but most importantly, this is you Connor. You feel things, you feel emotions. You’re more human than some people I know, and that’s nothing I need to be afraid of.” You state.

Connor opens his mouth to protest but you stop him, “I love you Connor. And I’ll be damned if I let you walk away this time.” You look up at him and are surprised by how close you two became during your confession. You blush at the close proximity and go to move away but Connor quickly stops your movements, bringing his lips to yours in a sweet yet hesitant kiss.

His lips are softer than you imagined, you smile slightly as you pull away, noticing the blush on your partners face.

“So, I’m taking that as an ‘I love you to (y/n) more that you could ever imagine, and I’m so sorry for being a dick.” You tease.

Connor laughs at your jesting but nods none the less, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

“I love you too.” he sighs.

You feel a fuzziness bloom in your chest as the words leave his lips. The confirmation just solidifying your previous thoughts.

Connor always has been, and always will be more than a machine.

[early-sxnsets]

I Tear Body and Soul Apart

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15909690/chapters/37420340

Chapter 3 of Love You All, Die For This

Word Count: 2934

Chapter Summary: A phone call is all it takes to change a night.

BAZ

It’s jarring to hear words spoken to you, yet having them pass through you like some fucked up deja-vu of the worst circumstances.

Like when my father said he’d never accept my decisions; accept us. Despite being in front of Snow and I, his voice came through as if it was coming through a phone dropped into the bottom of a lake; distorted, empty, and somehow sounding like I’d heard it a million times. Like the voice in my head that’d been shouting it for years finally broke the surface and bared its snarling teeth and spitting words that hit me more like a dissociation daydream than an actual speech.

This doesn’t exactly feel like that knee-scrapes of a shitty remark. This instead feels like getting stabbed in the fucking spine.

“Incompatible genes,” rings in my ears, the voice calm and incredibly pitiful, “the DNA sample pulled interesting information about your condition that we want your permission to study, but the results are a negative. The egg did not fertilize properly.”

I swallow at the ice-chunk in my throat, refusing to melt away. “What’s the matter with the DNA then?” I force, the hand pressing my mobile to my cheek giving a slight tremble as my bodyweight shifts.

Ears straining to keep focus on the tumbling of words, slowly rocking on the patio seat as my eyes transfix onto a bird pecking at our feeder. A cloud of sentences crowd around my head, closing around my throat and my shoulders. “If you don’t mind us saying, Mr. Pitch, it’s truly fascinating. The cellular reproductive rate in sperm decreased almost to the point of complete standstill. It’s nearly as though their lifespans last forever, but they nearly never split overall. Although your skin and hair sampled yielded typical results, your mouth swab showed a similar decrease in splitting, suggesting you physically appear as aging, but internally your lifespan is undetermined but significantly longer-lasting.” It’s stuffy, like how Snow’s old smoke felt thick in your lungs. I can’t breathe.

I can barely speak, uttering out a confirmation to set up a visit to discuss the next steps and see where it goes from here, and yes, thank you for your time. My fingertips ghost over the end call before the other line goes dead.

The goldfinch across the yard seems to be having a lovely time picking at its lunch.

If I had the energy, I’d shoot across and drain it, but even then I’d feel more disgusted with myself than I am now. I’m the reason we’re in this standstill, after all. My “condition”.

I stand swiftly, going to find the pack of cigarettes hidden in the side table drawer beside the sofa. Standing back outside with shaky hands and fumblings of my wand (I’m too incoherent and untrusted with a lighter, or even matchsticks), it takes me moments to fully light the fag hanging from my lips. I drag it, the thick smoke burning my throat before I bitterly taking the cig and holding it between my fingers, palms pressing deeply into my eye sockets. I rub, trying to shake the words out of my brain.

They keep floating, buzzing around me incoherently in jumbles of phrases. Each word pelts me, like little flies swarming to pick at my corpse.

I would never admit it verbally, but I’m more scared than anything. Scared of Snow’s reaction; scared that he’s still teetering on the edge of lost and mad.

It’d never cross my mind that he’d raise a fist to me, but the thought of Snow hurting himself to some extent keeps probing into my thoughts.

My phone rests beside me, face up on the red-stained deck and sitting without the annoyance of the string of notification buzzes others may have.

I don’t have much out there to care about sharing or contacting, except Snow, Bunce, and Fiona. I don’t have social media; I have four downloaded applications. A tuning app, Spotify, Skype, and a translator app that isn’t even mine, it’s Snow’s.

I only check emails and texts, a large majority of the latter being Snow texting me pictures of things he finds while out.

After unlocking it, I click through it to open the picture he sent me earlier today.

Simon Snow Pitch: bear_in_a_black_trenchcoat_shirt.jpg

Simon Snow Pitch: i think i found the shirt to get for fiona for Christmas

A wet laugh bubbles up through my throat, eyes squeezing shut automatically to stop the tears welling up. Crowley, he’s going to be so upset.

It briefly runs through my mind that I could theoretically spend the evening acting oblivious to the call, but then I remember that Snow’s grown to be sharp as a witches’ wit when it comes to me avoiding anything.

That leaves me with the inevitable conclusion of telling him.

The time tells me that he won’t be home for another hour. My heart tells me that he’ll be home a half an hour late; it’s the first Saturday of the month, so he’ll stop off and pick up some flowers for me as well as some take-out.

It’s the first Saturday of the month. June 4th. His birthday is in a few weeks, and he was going to save up any money he’s sent from various friends he somehow kept to buy a crib.

It’s the first Saturday of the month of his 25th birthday, and I’m going to have to look him in the eyes and tell him we’re not having a baby.

I jam the cigarette back between my lips, taking a forceful drag as I type out a message, hitting send before setting my mobile aside.

Me: If you’re picking up dinner, may I put in my recommendation for butter chicken and garlic naan? x

The bird across the ways rattles at the food before taking flight, going off somewhere safer than being around me. I let the smoke out slowly, eyelids falling heavily as my chest tugs. It feels like I’m lying to him, sending some innocent text about dinner plans that fit so perfectly into our everyday life as if I didn’t just receive dream-crushing news.

Maybe he’ll take it well. Maybe I’m overthinking again.

Or maybe I know my husband well enough to gauge his reaction based on his personality mixed with knowledge of the situation.

Fuck. I want to be wrong.

For once in my life, just once, I want to be wrong. I want Snow to walk through the door, making my knees weak as he says “I got a voicemail from the doctor about the egg and that’s a pity but I love you so it doesn’t matter!” then we’re mildly upset together, eat enough ice cream throughout the next week until we get over it enough to adopt an animal or two for emotional replacement. Then, eventually, we retire further up the countryside.

It could work. We’ll make it work.

I close my eyes, tapping the ash off as I breathe out into the early evening air.

Life’s a bitch.

I crush down the butt, gathering my phone and the cigarette box after making sure I returned my wand to my pocket and heading inside. My eyes drift to the telly to occupy my mind, but the news is depressing and mindlessly watching Normals do whatever it is they do makes me feel ridiculously lonely whenever I’m doing it without Snow.

I could nap, but that’d be pointless. I could read, but nothing good to—

My phone buzzes with an alert.

Simon Snow Pitch: will do my love <3

Well, fuck.

SIMON

I ring for Baz’s favorite Indian shop, stepping into my car as the city noises close off around me. I toss my satchel in the back and set the flowers in the passenger seat, letting my back sink into the car seat as I rub my face. Cheerily, I greet the shop owner’s voice, confirming that yes, I would like the usual, thank you, before ending the call and letting out a long breath.

The car rumbles to life, music flipping back on where it left off in a thump to the beginning of “Golden Trunks” from that Arctic Monkeys album that Baz hates to love (I tell him he likes it because he dressed like the album sounds). A smile manages to turn up the corner of my lips, despite my overall exhaustion.

I know that Baz doesn’t quite understand why I love my work so much if it tires me emotionally and physically, but it’s rewarding at the end.

It took a few years, especially after Watford, for me to fall back on track for something. It wasn’t until my therapist asked what I would have wanted as a child, and it hit me.

I’d want a social worker who’d give a shit about me.

Then it sort of all… clicked into place (Baz calls it my Hero Complex). I went to school for my degrees, got my certification and all, and now I work with kids to get them out of the system as quickly as possible (and to weed out the shit foster houses).

Sure, it hurts like a fucking gut punch to see people suffer, but it feels like I’m on the moon anytime one of my cases smiles at me and gives me a hug. It reminds me that I’m at least doing something for the greater good.

I guess I sort of have a “hero complex”, but it’s not intentional; it’s the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes. Without the thrum of magick, I itch to do something that makes me feel at least somewhat important, and despite Baz’s best efforts to convince me that I’m important already, I still feel like a useless sack of shit too often.

I feel myself exhale as I pull up to the shop, dragging myself in and paying for the food with an automatic kind smile slapped across my face.

I wish I didn’t feel like a useless sack of shit still.

Maybe this baby is the breath of fresh air we both need, that I need.

Fuck, it sounds like I’m saying the relationship is dead, which Merlin and Morgana I swear it isn’t, but after a life of excitement then a plateau, I feel like we won’t survive a plateau. I feel like Baz is going to get bored of me, eventually. It’s just that a change of pace would be good, and nothings more life-changing than another life.

That’s what it is. Changing the pace. Making me more exciting. Making sure that I’m not a sack of shit.

I buckle back into the car, pulling it back and heading home. We’re fine. Everything’s fine.

BAZ

The sun’s just starting to set as Snow’s car pulls up, gravel popping beneath it and quieting before the engine cuts. I listen to the click of the car door, Snow’s soft grunt, the rustling of plastics and the sound of a door slamming. His keys and grind against the lock before the gentle burst of the door opening fills the house, the Snow’s symphony of movements cascading down the halls. I let my book lower, eyes lifting to greet him as I push out a smile. “Hi love,” I say as he flicks on the kitchen light.

Before I even have a chance to fully rise, he’s in front of me, flowers in one hand as he offers the other. I take it, fingers winding around his as our lips meet briefly. “Mm. How was your day?” I query, inhaling the flowers. Pink peonies and gardenias. Interesting.

“Exhausting,” he replies, his voice dropping to a tired murmur that hits me so hard that it makes me swallow. He raises his head, meeting my eyes as he looks at me quizzically. “Are you alright? You went for a smoke today.”

I open my mouth to answer, but snap it shut a moment later. No. Nope. “Let’s eat. The food’s going to get cold.”

He sighs and I feel his hand press to my hip, which just makes my heart race faster. Fuck. “Talk to me.” It’s a command, not a question, and I know it now. I’m fucked.

“I got a call from the doctor.”

His eyes flicker up and around my face, sending my heart to shatter. He fucking knows. He can tell. He’s so… he’s going to… “It didn’t work,” he mutters. It’s not for me, clearly, but I nod automatically anyway. His head drops, stepping back from me as his hand leaves my side and travels to his hair. He cards through it and grips at it, squeezing, pulling.

His mouth starts rapid firing in short huffs of curses, working himself up and pulling away, pulling back into himself.

I hear his voice crack, I see the tears leaking, but every time I reach an arm out, I open my mouth, he steps further. He gasps louder for air, shaking his head and holds his arms out for distance. I barely hear his quiet “Nonono”s through the building sobs.

I ache. I burn from the inside out. I watch him fucking self-destruct, and he’s begging for me to be further, to be away.

I just want to hold him. I just want it to stop.

But he doesn’t even let me breathe in his direct as he starts huffing, face covered by his hands. My eyes transfix on his ring, shining alone from the kitchen light barely filtering in through the doorframe. It’s getting darker outside, the last of the daylight disappearing into deep purples and blues. He’s like a ghost; shades of cornflower and aegean in the dimming night, and his tears serve only to illuminate him. I grow weak, arms falling to my sides as I back away, his anger building and twisting his sadness.

I flinch at the sight of his reddening face, and fucking pray that he doesn’t see.

His eyes dart, and I see something that I’d convinced myself that only existed in dreams now; the fevered rage that The Mage held, all those years ago. The lasting flicker of the madman seeps into Snow, who’s now backing into the wall, staring at the floor and telling himself this is his fault, and I flinch even harder when I hear it happen. The crash and shatter of a picture frame, somewhere near him, clattering to the ground and bursting into glittering shards. His wings swat the air a bit, knocking another frame from the wall. The hiding spells worn thin, letting the sheer force of Snow's anger pushing the wings through the fabric of his button down.

I just gape, no longer feeling there, no longer believing I’m in the room. I can’t feel my body; I haven’t for ten minutes. My limbs don’t exist, and the tears falling down my cheeks are just of my mind’s tricking, but my autopilot of a brain launches my barely-existing limbs forward, descending down onto the crumpling figure of my husband. He’s curled now, curled into himself with hands yanking at his curls, sobbing even harder.

I expect something to happen when I touch him; for him to send me away and tell me to never come back, but instead he does what we both need and he leans into me. I feel his sputterings now, and my face presses to his, presses everywhere, trying to sop up his sadness and anger by just holding him and reminding him that I’m here, against him, by his side.

We sit here, pressed up to the floor and wall for what feels like hours. It’s wordless after a few minutes, the only sound being his hiccup-y breaths, which I coach him through with each open-palmed rub of his chest. He takes it; he takes it all. He takes my cheek kisses, my hair kisses, my hugs and my comfort. Everything that I hide so much from everyone else; he takes it from me and holds it close, giving me back all I need to keep sane; a look in the eyes and a broken but present smile. It’s like taking a bat to my heart, and I can’t do anything but to kiss his lips, over and over, trying to emit something from them.

It takes time before he lets it out, but then it tumbles in the incoherent-Snow-way that hits me in the chest. He sputters “I’m sorry”s, going in the circles of words, retracing them and begging me to stay with him, begging me to make it last.

I take his face in my hands, maybe a little too jarringly because he cuts his sentence and startles. I loosen, looking in him, through his eyes and his quivering lips to try to get into him.

“Simon,” I breathe, ignoring the choking in my throat. “I’m never leaving you. Never. Please, just… stop that, okay? I’m here; fucking hell, I can’t even fathom walking out that door. Child or no child, Simon, I’m here.”

He swallows, another tear trickling down his cheek as his hand finds mine and wipes away the wetness. I watch his soft inhale, eyes closing as my forehead presses to his. “I’m gonna fix this,” he mumbles, voice barely leaving our bubble. “I’m gonna figure out a way to get it to work.” I want to tell him to stop, and that I don’t need anything from him but him, but it seeps into me as his arms snake around my waist that this clearly isn’t for me anymore; it’s for him.

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

i mean this very genuinely and i’m not trying to be rude or harsh but I think you are kind of self obsessed and it’s making your life way harder than it needs to be. it seems like you put a lot of stuff on yourself and feel guilt or responsibility for other people’s actions, and it seems like you spend so much time thinking about yourself and hyperanalyzing your perception of your own flaws that you feel like you’re unlovable. i know it’s not easy to get out of that pattern, i used to feel similarly, like i said, i’m not trying to be rude but i think you should hear it and maybe think about working with your therapist to find alternative patterns of thought. bc not everything IS your fault or your responsibility. and frankly feeling like youre unlovable and ugly is only going to make it more difficult for you to find and hold onto love and friendship when it comes. i hope this makes sense and you understand that i say it with compassion

Oh no you aren’t being rude or harsh I promise 💕 I appreciate you reaching out.

I don’t know if I’ve seen it being phrased as self obsessed before, I don’t think I ever thought about it that way either, but it makes a lot of sense when you put it that way honestly! I guess I am self obsessed since I’m in my own head so much. I appreciate the perspective!! 😊

And you’re right I do spend a lot of my time blaming myself and taking responsibility for everything. Please don’t take this an excuse but as an explanation - I think it’s largely to do with my OCD. That probably sounds like a cop out ahaha but a lot of people with OCD have a massive heightened sense of responsibility. Logically I know not everything is my fault, but my brain because of the OCD / rumination/ magical thinking makes it really hard to believe that. It’s definitely something I’m working on in therapy though. I think what contributes to it is I’m at home so much because I don’t work. It’s easy to get stuck in ones head when all I’m doing is laying in bed. My head just naturally does it anyway, but without doing things it makes it so much easier. So that’s absolutely something I need to work on. And as much as I want a job I know it’s not going to come anytime soon so I need to work harder at doing more at home and occupying my time with more things. And leaving the house more regularly for things other then my appointments. I’m used to be lazy though so it’s a work in progress lol 😂

You are also fully right on the last bit!! Constantly being negative and further perpetuating my low self esteem absolutely isn’t going to help in my endeavour to find love. I don’t necessarily believe that I can’t love others until I love myself - but I do believe my self hatred can make it a lot harder for others to love or like me. So it’s a self fulfilling prophecy in that regard. And I think it’s mainly my fault because a lot of it is linked to my body image issues / ed and that’s just something I refuse to fully get help for in therapy at the moment because I don’t feel ready. So I know it’s my fault but it’s something I’m not sure on how to break at the moment.

But ! My support worker and I are going to try and do a yoga class or something together so maybe that will help aha.

Thank you again for reaching out and being so kind and insightful, I really appreciate it. And I don’t worry I absolutely wasn’t upset with what you said - you weren’t too harsh or anything ☺️💕💕

I hope you have a beautiful day! 🌸💕💕

[readmancy]

drowning

“GRIEF IS LIKE THE OCEAN; IT COMES IN WAVES, EBBING AND FLOWING. SOMETIMES THE WATER IS CALM, AND SOMETIMES IT IS OVERWHELMING. ALL WE CAN DO IS LEARN TO SWIM.”

I watched as they lowered your coffin into the ground. It moved slowly, as if taunting me. I remembered how beautiful your face was. I missed it so much. The closed casket stole away my last chance at getting a glimpse of your face. The deeper it went, the more it felt like they were dragging me down with you. My entire body felt numb. It felt as though I was falling. 

STAGE ONE: DENIAL Living without you was more difficult than anything I ever had to do. My eyes felt tired all the time. There were nights I stayed up, staring at the ceiling. Sometimes, I'd lay your dress beside me as if you were still here. If I turned my back away from it, closed my eyes real tight, and just took in the scent, it was as if you were still there, beside me—like you never left. On the nights I did get sleep, I found myself waking up from nightmares and reaching for your hand, only to grasp at the empty bed sheets beside me. Now that you weren't here, I had to hire someone to take care of your greenhouse. I wanted to take it down completely, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Every time I entered the house, I would see the picture of you and me and our son, together. It reminded me how... untogether we were. We were in pieces without you. We were supposed to do this together. How could you just leave me? Raising our child, raising a family. This was your dream, this was my dream, you were my dream. Growing up, I never realized how empty the halls of this big mansion really were until you came along. Now they were back to being bleak and empty. It was worse, though, because I was aware of it now. In the office, I used to think of your random midday calls as distracting. It's funny, really. Now I find myself staring at the door, waiting for Natasha to walk in and tell me, "your wife's on the phone." Sometimes, I even call your phone myself just to hear your voice. I miss you.

"Hi! This is Lydia. I'm not on—Adrian!—Haha—I'm so sorry, that was my husband. I'm not on the phone right now, but I'll call you back!"

STAGE TWO: ANGER Silence. It's like I've gone mad. All I hear is that deafening noise of nothing. There are days where I just tolerate it, and there are days where I can feel it pulling my hair and its roots from the inside of my head driving me insane—its endless emptiness pushing me to the edge of my sanity, forcing me to smash my table and push all its contents to the floor because I just don't care. But I can't tell if I hate it. I can't tell if I want it—the silence—gone forever. In a way, it serves a purpose. It keeps me company. It occupies the deserted wasteland in my life that you once filled up. Ironically, this blaring numbness keeps me from feeling totally empty. When they took you away—no, that's not the right wording, is it? It was your choice. No one took you away. You took yourself away. From me. You left me. Well, when you decided to permanently walk out of my life for no reason at all, it was like that ringing noise swerved in right away. Our friends keep trying to tell me that what you did was noble and brave. They try to frame you as some kind of hero. What's so heroic about sacrificing yourself and leaving me alone? What's so heroic about making me live out my worst nightmare? About forcing me to live the rest of my life without you? Did you think that was fair? You can't just walk into my life, make me care, and then leave! I’m not Hotel California—you can’t just check out anytime you want! I sighed, combing a hand through my hair.

Look at me. 

If you were here right now, you'd keep me in my right mind. This isn't your fault. I know I shouldn't be mad at you. I know I shouldn't blame you. 

It’s just so unfair. 

"Adrian, you're always so dramatic. I'll see you in the morning, sweetie, love ya."

STAGE THREE: BARGAINING

I remember watching the stars with you. Now, I look out into the dark night sky and all I see is just that—the dark night sky, but this time there aren’t any stars. Funny. The view in the evenings aren't totally eventless, though. I still stand out on the balcony. But instead of distinguishing constellations with you, I watch the smoke from my cigarette fade off into nothing. I think a lot now. Why wasn't it me? I was there. It was supposed to be me. Why did you get in the way? If only I had thought quick enough. If only I'd reacted quick enough. Maybe then I could have saved you. I don't know. It's stupid, but for some reason I have this feeling that maybe if I square up a little and be—I don't know—more mature or nicer or something, you'll come back. It's like those times when we'd fight. There would always be some sort of lesson I had to learn in order to get you back. So now I'm constantly scrambling my brain, looking for something, anything, really.

But it never works. Every night, I walk back into our—well, I guess it's my now, huh?—Well, every night I walk into my room after putting out the cigarette and I stare at the door, waiting. I know you won't, but I can't stop myself from expecting you to just walk in and wrap your arms around me and tell me you still love me. Tell me that everything's going to be alright. We'll be alright. If I devoted my entire life to helping others, would God bring you back? I know I was never one for religion, but I know you were. That must have counted for something, right? Maybe this was all just some dream. Maybe if I stared at that door a little longer, you would walk through. Maybe if I stared at the smoke long enough, I’d realize the stars never left. Maybe.

"I love you. I'm so sorry for leaving. We can only work through this together. I care about you so much, I love you enough to work this out. It's alright. We'll be alright. Alright?"

STAGE FOUR: DEPRESSION Mornings have been hard. I'd wake up feeling like I didn't get any sleep. Actually, at this point, I'm not even sure if I woke up at all. Maybe I just laid in my bed all night, too numb to feel awake, to feel conscious. I don't know. I can't really tell anymore. I feel dead. I mean, I can't tell if that's the right wording. I know for sure that I don't feel alive. I can feel my heart beating and my lungs pumping, but I barely feel anything else. Like I'm some kind of empty shell. My organs are working, but—for some godforsaken reason—I'm not. Every individual piece of me is functioning and working to fulfill its purpose—but what’s my purpose? Everyday, I'm running out of reasons to get up. If it weren't for our Craig—and the company, of course—I might have joined you by now. I know I shouldn't say that, I know you wouldn't want me to say that, but it's the truth. I just don't see the point of life anymore. What's the point of living if there's nothing worth living for? You always said that, right? You were always so smart. I never really gave you enough credit for that, did I? This sucks. Life sucks. If there's a God out there, they probably suck too. Why would life do this to me? I was fine before you. Sure, I was lonely, but at least I didn't know that. Your entering my life was the happiest thing that's ever happened to me. Why would life do this? Why would it make me aware of how much I was hurting just to make me the happiest man alive and then take it all away and make me hurt again? Is that life's goal? Is that God's mighty plan for me? To make me hurt? I wish this was just a dream. I wish I could just wake up with you by my side. I wish...

"Wake up, lazy bones. Haha, wake up! Wake up, sweetie. You're having a nightmare. It's alright, I'm here. I'm here."

I jolted up, grabbing your hand so tight I could barely even feel my own. My heart was racing. Sweat was trailing down my face. My head was so light I couldn't even feel it. A wave of relief washed over me as I realized it was all just a dream. "I thought you were gone!" I said, a yell-like whisper. I was surrounded by darkness. Not a single light in the room aside from the moon shining in through the window. "Sweetie, I thought I lost you... It was terrible... My heart was heavy. I-I couldn't breathe! I wanted to die. Lydia, I don't think I'll be able to live without you... I'm so happy you're here... I love..." I turned to my side to look you in the eyes, only to realize I'd been grasping at the bedsheets. The wave of relief slowly turned back into fear, into anxiety. I am alone.

[christinegphillips]

Things Will Get Better – You Have To Believe

If you need things to get better in your life then hopefully this article will help you to get there. I have suffered a lot of personal tragedys in life and the below is how I made things better for myself by controlling my thoughts and believing that life had more in store for me than just misery.

It can be hard to control our intrusive and obsessive thoughts because the voices just go round and round in our heads telling us things that just are not good for us to here. The mind is a powerful thing and can trick you into all sorts of feelings and thoughts that can easily run away with you.

The important thing to realise is that you can control them and they are your thoughts and if you put the below into action then you will be one step closer to making your life better in the future.

Things will get better – Photo by Vlada Karpovich from Pexels

My Top Tips On Things Will Get Better In Life

Stopping the intrusive thoughts – When something bad happens to us in life, our thoughts can run away with us. Sometimes we just have to disconnect our brains in order to have moments of clarity and stop those thoughts from becoming damaging to our souls. We have to switch our minds from the negative paralyzing feelings to one’s which show that the future can be brighter in everyway. One way to do this is by always moving forward in life and we will discuss this more in the below points.

The 7 stages of grief – Which are defined in detail by healthline here you will more than likely have to go through. Your emotions will highly be all over the place and your intrusive thoughts will at times just get worse and no matter how hard you try and control them. So you are not alone in this and everyone tends to go through these steps when something bad happens in life.

This is just temporary – Everyone says that time is the best healer right? But that doesn’t help you because you want the thoughts and the feelings to stop and stop now? The only way you can do this is really to move your thought processes onto something else and refuse to think about it. There are consequences to this also as holding back your thoughts might stop you from being happy again at a later date in life. This is because they might come back to bite you on the bum if you haven’t got rid of those emotions. The way that I deal with this is by the following

Acceptance – Once you have accepted that the situation has happened and that everything really does happen for a reason and you cannot do anything about it. Your thoughts will be able to move on. If you can do something about the situation however then you will need to address it in the right way until you resolve it with a positive action.

Move forward – When something leaves your life, it will need replacing with something else. So do what you can to find comfort in something that makes you feel the same way as quickly as you can. This will transfer the thoughts onto a more joyful feeling as it will replace the negative thoughts. I know this isn’t easily done in some situations but it will help.

Keep your mind focussed on new things – It is time to be the best person you can be by having a plan in life and keeping your mind occupied on what your life will look like. We really all are capable of doing or getting whatever we want in life and by having a pathway in life. Your mind will be concentrating on getting what you want out of life and the past will slowly fade away.

Take other people’s advice with a pinch of salt – This is your life and you need to think about how you feel about things and not how you should act based on other people’s ideas. I remember when I got divorced twice and everyone slagged off my ex wives. Now I am a pretty kind person and don’t like putting other people down. Sometimes we are also to blame for things and being bitter about others just eats away at you. So you have to happy with how you want to deal with the situation. I chose to be kind and move on in life but if I had off listened to other people, I probably would have done all sorts of unkind things. Just to pee my ex’s off. Would it have made the situation any better?Absolutely not.

Learn to communicate – Part of life is accepting that things do go wrong, that we do say things we shouldn’t, we do things we might regret, we hurt people’s feelings. This is normal and what we have to recognize is that we are not always right. What might seem the right thing to do for us might be completely different for someone else. So we have to be empathic in our behaviour and learn to treat people sensitively and in a way that adds value to both your lives. Arguments and tit for tat conversations are just harmful and if we can apologize and move on then you will be in a much better place. Unfortunately though when someone draws us into an argument it is hard not to retaliate. Just be the bigger person and learn to apologise when you need to and make up as often as you can.

Don’t be hard on yourself – It is really easy to blame ourselves and beat ourselves up about stuff. When we mull everything over in minds we really can come out with all sorts of outcomes. Sometimes we just have to accept the situation and move on, no matter how hard it is sometimes. Things where just meant to be that way. Just concentrate on being the better version of yourself and stay kind and conscious in your actions.

The time is now – If we want to make things better then we have to deal with the situation as quickly as possible. As an example someone wants to try parachuting. They are crapping themselves when they finally come to jump out of the plane. They spend 20 minutes, crying, screaming and scaring themselves half to death before they are forced to jump out. They land and absolutely love the experience but they spent 20 minutes scaring themselves when they were going to have to do it anyway. So always try and save yourself some time in life and stop scaring yourself and accept as quickly as you can. That you need to move on.

Believe in yourself – Never have regrets in life. Sometimes we do things we are not proud of or wrong things. Or just bad things happen. Recognise the situation and learn from it and don’t make the same mistake again in the future. This will allow you to accept that if a situation like that arises again in the future, then you will actively deal with it better. If you beat yourself up about it however and you can’t change it anyway, then you are only making your mental health worse. When we cannot do something about anything there is no point beating ourselves up about it.

Find yourself – Life is all about finding ourselves. Life is a test of our strenghts and weaknesses and will throw so much at you that sometimes it is hard to take. Our ability to just jump straight back on the horse or not will dictate whether things bet better quickly or over time. Every emotion we have is triggered by our own thought processes, when we learn to control them we can decide what upsets us and what doesn’t.

Be kind to yourself – No matter what happens your own mental health is really important and you really do have to be kind to yoursef along the way. Beating yourself up over and over will just bring you down and you have to get over the anger and realise this is what it is. My wife always asks me how I feel about things and I don’t. Until something actually happens then I don’t deal with it. My thought processes are always on fixing things when they happen, not doing something about something that may never happen in the first place.

Smash life – For every time that we get knocked down it is an experience. There are billions of people on the planet that will love us for who we are, there are billions of people in worse situations that we are in, there are billions of opportunities to make life better. We just have to recognise that we either live a life in gried or we accept that we have to move on. No matter what anyone tells you things will get better and you have control over this. So put a smile on your face and make everyday of your life count no matter what happens.

Frequently Asked Questions About Things Will Get Better

How do I get hope that things will get better? Some things in life there are no answers for and there is no hope unfortunately. These are the situations that leave us without meaning and feeling angry about the results. Losing people in our lives, sickness and lots of other things. The only thing that we can do in these circumstances is accept that they have happened. The journey will be hard and you will go through the stages of grief and things will get worse before they get better. You just have to live with some things, but we do have a choice still to live our lives or become consumed within it. We have to move forward it is just when we can. Our minds are powerful at creating problems and issues and not letting us move forward. I just now accept that things I cannot change or control then i have to let them go.

How do you tell someone that they will get better? It depends on what situation this is in as there are dramatic things that can happen to someone from splitting up, becoming sick, losing their job and many other things. All you can do is be empathic to that person and don’t judge them and listen properly to their story. You don’t need to do anything unless they ask you too as they might just need to get over the stages of grief first themselves. We all have an inbuilt survival mechanism that will kick in at some point, it just depends on how long it takes to get there. So support them by being positive and not getting down with them, help in everyway you can by adding value to the conversation. Reassure them that you are there for them at anytime they need you. Cry with them, laugh with them and do everything you can to help them move forward.

What does i can only get better mean? Sometimes this is said because people shrug of situations by saying things can only get better. It is a way of transferring your thoughts so that you let your mind know that the situation could have been worse. Our thoughts are really powerful and can convince us of anything if we let them. So moving forward with a postive quote such as things can only get better just realigns our thoughts to a more positive sping of things.

What gives you hope in life? Being kind and offering help to others. Giving love freely and supporting everyone through their growth path. We all want to be loved, rewarded and recognised for who we truly are. Unfortunately life can be cruel and we can also be governed by those people and let them hold us back. Life should not be like that and everyone should and deserves to be happy in life and i see at as my job to help other people feel good about themselves. Life is a big education and staying positive and looking at life through rose tinted glasses takes time. It can be done however and when you master your life and help others life does change.

Can you live without hope? I would say not in this case because we all have wants and desires in life. When we feel that we are not getting them we lose faith. We bad situations present themselves we hold onto them and think that life will always be this way. Just because one thing has happened however, does not mean it will happen over and over again. If it does then we are more capable of dealing with it as we should have learnt our lessons from the last time. We should live freely and not cloud our minds with issues and problems, but fill our minds with hope and dreams that we can have whatever we want in life. If we are willing to work hard for it that is.

I know sometimes life is hard and it is really difficult to see that things will get better too. But you do have to move forward and as quickly as you can. So feel free to join my program below and let me help you make your life better moving forward too.

It really just a change in perception and how we transform our thoughts into positive one’s, don’t take things personally, learn to be the best person we can be and just have fun with life. So I wish you all the very best in life and hope to catch up soon. Best wishes Scott

Things Will Get Better – You Have To Believe published first on https://changeurlifeforever.blogspot.com/