#but like I almost said ‘PROMISE?!’ like I’d let her gaslight me (not really)

[bioswear]

You all are so welcome for Steph Gingrich posting

[coveredinsweetpea]

A/n: I let the whore out for this one 🤭 and I'm not even ashamed? I wanted to make it more filthy but I decided to not push it 😬 but lemme know if you liked this one!!! I'd love to write more!! Summary: just the story of perv!bouncer!Eddie x dumb!ice-cream vendor!reader and the little white lie he used in order to get you where he wanted you. (KINKY) 4.6k Warnings: so first off, perv!Eddie (he's a bit of a meanie) and dumb!reader, ok? He takes advantage of you, oopsie. Humiliation, degradation, lying and gaslighting, pet names, groping, very strong D/s vibes although not established, spit kink, a hint of dubcon? (only if you squint). Needless to say, 18+!! (also I wrote this in one go don't @ me if it's shitty)

You shouldn't have worn heels - it was late at night, you were running late and while the rain had stopped, the mud still managed to splash its way up to your ankles. And come to think of it, the skirt hadn’t been that good of an idea either, not for the metal concert you were attending at least, but you were two blocks away and it was too late to turn back now.

Before entering the venue, you stopped at the corner, fixed your hair and your shoes with a napkin you found around your purse, and prayed to the gods that even though the concert should have already started, the bouncer would still be there to give you a ticket and allow you inside.

“Eddie!” you exclaimed relieved. He was just about to stand up from his little booth when you burst inside the building, and his eyes widened when he realized who you were.

While it truly hadn’t been that long since you last saw each other, it surely felt like it. The last time you saw him was at his graduation, one week after you finished junior year. Currently, almost two years had passed since you yourself were done with school.

“Y/n, wow. I haven’t seen you in ages, how are you?”

“Good, good, I’m good” you huffed, getting ready to fish the money for the ticket out of your purse. “You work here?”

“Yeah. I’m a bartender but something came up and our guy had to leave for a bit. I’m just covering for him.”

“Oh, ok. Cool”

“Did you come for the concert? It’s about to start”

“Yeah, mhm. I know I’m a bit late.” you said, picking out the dollars out of your purse one by one. When you decided your bag should be cute and fit your outfit rather than actually be useful, you didn’t imagine you’d have to embarrass yourself like this. “Here’s 7 dollars-” you mumbled handing him the money, “Wait, I have three more, just give me a second”

“Y/n…” Eddie said as he hesitated to take it from you. “It’s 30 dollars.”

“30 what?” you gasped. “I thought it was 10”

“It was 10, until like an hour ago. You should’ve bought it in advance, tickets are always more expensive at the door”

“You must be kidding me” you cried, “I can’t pay 30$ for a concert of a band I barely even heard about”

“Then don’t” Eddie chuckled, “It’s not that big of a deal, it’s only going to last one hour tops”

“Yeah but my friend likes the vocalist. I promised her I’d be there”

“Then pay?”

Instead of going back to explaining why you really didn’t feel like doing that, you straightened your back and grinned. “Eddie…”

“I’m not interested," he laughed in a heartbeat, fully aware of the tactics you might want to try on him.

“Free ice cream for the whole month!” you belted, grabbing his shoulder to help you get your point across. “You know you can’t say no to that”

“I never even bought ice cream from your shop, Y/n, no”

“Two months!”

“Baby girl, buy the ticket or wait for the concert to end. I can’t just let you in”

“Yes, you can” you scoffed, stomping your foot against the floor. “Since when do you care about the rules?”

“Since my job is at stake, sweetheart”

“Who’s gonna know? Right, no one. So pleeeeease, Eddie! Pretty please with a tiny and sweet cherry on top?”

He was thinking about it, it was obvious the wheels were turning. His eyes traveled along the length of your body as he licked his lips, and that gave you hope. But unfortunately, when he looked back up into your eyes, he shook his head, “I’m sorry, I can’t”

“You can” you pouted, “You just don’t want to”

Eddie tapped his chin, “I guess that’s true. There’s nothing in it for me, so…”

“Asshole!” you giggled and hit his side. “Just tell me what you want, you got it”

“Anything I want?”

“Anything!”

“Anything, anything?” Eddie laughed.

“Just say it, you jerk”

But he didn’t really say it. What he did however was lean behind his little desk and then stand back up with a small camera in his hand. With one eyebrow raised, he motioned with his head to one of the small back rooms to the side, and that should’ve been your cue to at least try offering him ice cream again. 

"I can't believe I'm doing this" you nervously giggled as you placed your purse on one of the chairs you found laying around. More things crossed your mind while you took your jacket off but you kept quiet, only turning around to face Eddie when you were left in your tank top and skirt. "This is stupid. I'm being stupid, right?"

"It's just a little bit of fun" he smiled, moving the camera from one hand to the other. "You absolutely don't have to do it if you don't feel comfortable"

"Comfortable getting naked for a stranger to take pictures of me?" you laughed in disbelief.

"Are you?"

His raised eyebrow and the confidence he had made you unconsciously rub your thighs together. "Don't hold this over my head, ok?"

"It's just a few pictures, Y/n, no big deal"

"I know" you pouted and crossed your arms in front of your chest. "But I don't want you to think I'm a slut or something. I don't do stuff like this"

"There's a beginning for everything, sweetheart. What if you end up loving it and want to take more?"

"Yeah, right" you rolled your eyes and felt a very strong urge to look anywhere else but at him. "Ok, how do you want them?"

He thought about it for a second. "Take your top off, we'll see from there"

The little bit of conscious thinking still present inside your mind had a very hard time accepting just how fast your hands worked to remove your shirt. The second that piece of clothing went over your head, your cheeks started burning and a very painful but familiar feeling awakened in your core. Half naked and maybe a little bit confused, you turned to look at Eddie - who was grinning from ear to ear, getting ready to snap the picture. 

"Say cheese!"

You didn't say it, but you did straighten your back, smiled, and even put on a cute pose with your hands beside your cheeks. 

"You've done this before?" Eddie laughed after taking the picture as he waited for it to slip out of the device.

"No, why?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "It's a nice picture"

"Let me see" you said and bubbled over to him, looking at the picture as it exited the camera. "Oh, yeah. You're right! It really is cute"

"Told you, sweetheart" Eddie grinned and grabbed your chin.

You instinctually followed and tilted your head up to look at him, shame spreading across your body as you reveled in his little words of praise. "What next?"

"Bend over that desk over there"

Without as little as a hint of hesitation, you walked over to the desk, planted your chest on top of it and pushed your skirt up over your ass. 

"See why I'd think you've done this before?" he laughed and slapped your ass. "I didn't even tell you to lift your skirt"

"You were about to anyway, I'm just ahead of you"

"Such a good, little girl" 

As much as you hated to admit, the way he groped your ass, and his fingers - rough and digging into your skin, it all made you squirm under his touch. You remained motionless and sat there quietly, only your feet wobbling a bit from the uncomfortable position as you allowed him to do his thing. "Can I take these off?" Eddie asked, his pointer finger already hooked behind the little piece of fabric that covered your cunt. 

"Yeah, mhm" you nodded eagerly. "Do what you want"

Maybe you shouldn't have said that. But a part of you forgot about the concert and was too focused on Eddie's touch, on his presence behind you, the fact that you couldn't see him making all your senses go off the rails. 

But a deal was a deal and Eddie wasn't about to break it… that much. After pushing your underwear to the side, the cold air hit your already heated and sensitive core. "Can I see how wet you are, doll?"

You nodded. 

And his finger slipped right in, knuckle deep, his big, silver ring barely visible between your damp, puffy folds. 

"How about two?"

"...ok"

"Three? Can you take three?" Eddie asked, slipping his fingers inside without wasting time to hear your answer. 

A soft moan broke past your lips and your back arched the way he was filling you up, little tears of pleasure gathering at the corners of your eyes. "Eddie" you cried.

"Yeah, puppy?" 

But only a grunt escaped your throat as you let your forehead fall against the desk. 

When he didn't get an answer from you, he just chuckled and the next thing you heard was the sound of the camera going off. 

"Cute" Eddie said, retracting his hand from your pussy. 

The sudden feeling of emptiness made you whine, "That's all?"

"What? Did you want more?"

"I- I thought-" you mumbled, turning around to face him, "I thought you were gonna, I don't know…"

"Do you want me to, doll?"

The way the words almost slipped out of your mouth was pathetic. But you managed to control yourself, and just pushed yourself up and shook your head. "No" you lied. And he could tell. 

"You sure, kitten?"

"Yeah, no. Just take the next pic"

"Ok, last one, sweetheart. Can you get on your knees for me?"

Still visibly disappointed with how he left you hanging, you wordlessly kneeled in front of him. Your hands flew up to grip his thighs and your head fell back, your eyes on his. "Like this?"

"Exactly like that, puppy. You're so good, you know that?" Eddie said, nonchalantly licking your juices off his fingers. "And you taste so sweet, baby"

"Thank you" you weakly smiled as he caressed your cheek. "What, um… what do I do now?"

"Open wide for me, just like that. Can you stay like this for a bit?" Eddie commanded. 

All you could do was nod and follow him with your stare, your heart nearly beating out of your chest when he lowered himself in front of you and grabbed your chin. 

"Do you like this?" 

Yes. No. Fuck, you squeezed your eyes shut for a second then then, much to his absolute pleasure, nodded yes. 

The sheer embarrassment you felt from not being able to answer him as your mouth hung open made the pressure between your legs grow even more unbearable. You wanted him to do something, anything, touch, or at least talk to you, but he just left you there, hanging pathetically and waiting. 

"How about this for the last picture?" Eddie questioned and then shoved his fingers into your mouth. Ring deep and with no warning, he forced your jaw open as he pushed his fingers as far as they could go, making your eyes snap wide open in shock. 

"Easy, sweetheart. Stay still for me, ok? Don't fight it"

But it was impossible, with your airway partially blocked and your gag reflex threatening to act up, your hands found his wrist and squeezed as all you could do was look up into his eyes. 

"Do you like being like this, angel? All good and dumb for me?" 

Your answer came in the form of a blink, your eyebrows also arching upwards, before a cough broke in the back of your throat.

"Easy, doll. Slow down, stop fighting it. Relax, you can do it, you can do it, baby" but he was not helping you, instead pushing down harder onto your tongue, making your eyes water from the lack of oxygen. 

But still, you didn't try to fight him, to pry his hand away or to even distance yourself. You just stood there, choking on his fingers, painfully awaiting the moment he'd figure you'd had enough. 

While he didn't let you off easily, when your throat constricted around his fingers again, he finally retracted his hand. Drunk on the so dearly needed breath of fresh air that rushed down your throat, you fell forward, your cheek against his thigh as you struggled to regain your composure. 

"So good for me, puppy. You listen so well" Eddie cooed, brushing your hair as you refused to pull away from your leg. 

"Eddie…" you pouted, "You didn't take the picture"

"That's ok, doll. How are you? Are you good?"

Still unwilling to move, you nodded against his leg. "Yep"

"What do you want to do next, sweetheart? You can choose for the last picture"

"I don't wanna choose" you shook your head, "Just tell me what to do"

"Is there nothing you want, angel? Not even one thing that crossed that pretty, little head of yours?"

"No"

"Then open up for me again, sweetheart" 

Lazily, you shuffled to the side and settled back into your position on your knees in front of him. This time, he only pried your mouth open a little bit, much for the aesthetic of it all, his fingers on your tongue and his heavy rings against your bottom lip. 

When he brought the camera up, you looked directly into the lens, eyes wide and soft, as you were all but drooling. The way you squirmed once you heard the click of the camera was probably pathetic, but he enjoyed it and you wanted more.

"That's enough" Eddie said, placing the device to the side and squatting down in front of you. "Can you swallow for me?"

You blinked in confusion but burned with enthusiasm, almost moaning out loud when you saw him tower over you and spit down onto your awaiting tongue. 

You didn't question it, didn't even flinch, you just closed your mouth and swallowed as he told you. 

Once done, Eddie helped you up and waited for you to change. Back out at his little security desk, you waited patiently for him to put the yellow bracelet around your wrist. "Thank you"

"Pleasure doing business with you, doll"

Despite rolling your eyes, you couldn't also hide the way your lips curled at the little pet name, suddenly getting to you in a way half an hour ago you couldn't have even imagined. 

"Come with me to the bar, I'll fix you something to drink. On the house" 

"Where was this generosity before?" you teased and stepped inside as he held the door open for you. 

"Don't push it," he playfully threatened. Once inside, Eddie grabbed your hand and guided you back behind the bar. "What do you want to drink, sweetheart?"

You knew what you wanted, but the annoyed looks of the people impatiently waiting their turn distracted you. Eddie noticed it in a heartbeat, the distress in your eyes saying it all. 

"Fuck them" he scoffed, raising his middle finger in their direction as he shielded you with his body. "Just tell me what you feel like drinking"

"Um, a screwdriver, please"

"Coming right up" he said and got to work, only to have you follow him closely like a lost puppy. Too many pairs of judgemental eyes still followed your every move, and without Eddie's attention on you, they felt even more intrusive than before. 

"Eddie, I want to pay for it" you said as you opened your purse, "I feel bad"

"I'm not taking your money, Y/n"

"They're looking at me as if I've committed a crime. I'm not going out there with my free drink that I didn't even have to wait for. Just take my money, Eddie, please!"

That sounded like it pissed him off. Not you, though. They did. You sounded genuinely worried, and he didn't like that. After he finished making your drink, Eddie placed it in front of you and then turned to face the customers. "Before you all get your panties in a bunch, she didn't cut to the front, you're waiting to get served by my colleague, I haven't even started my shift. And even if she had cut in front of you, that would've been fine too, because I said so. If any of you even looks at her the wrong way, you're getting kicked out and banned. Thank you!"

Despite his rant having done its job perfectly since no one dared comment or even keep staring, you barely found it in you to look at him. "Eddie… you didn't have to do that"

"If anyone bothers you, come find me" he said, as if he hadn't even heard you. He just grabbed your glass and placed it between your hands, "Go enjoy the concert, sweetheart"

"Thank you" you meekly said.

"No problem, doll" he grinned and slapped your ass as you turned to walk away. 

Luckily enough with the soundcheck and stage preparations, you managed to find your friends before the second song even started. 

While the music wasn't necessarily your favorite, you still danced your soul out and used the little breaks between songs to listen to your friend vent and fangirl over the vocalist. Tall, long hair and a leather jacket - another thing whose appeal you didn't think you'd see any time soon. 

But the whole thing turned out to be a blast, no one interrupting your dancing sessions and by the time the concert was over, you were all spent, barely able to maintain your balance on your aching feet. 

After collapsing in the nearest booth you found available, one friend who made the happiest choice of the night regarding the shoes and chose a pair of sneakers, sacrificed herself and made her way to the bar while you all waited for her at the table. 

Mostly, the conversation circled around everyone's surprise with how enjoyable the concert actually was. A few other topics had been touched, such as whether they'd party at this bar or not, or if any of the members were single, but when the subject of the price rolled around, you felt personally attacked. 

Without explaining, you excused yourself from the table and stomped your way to the bar, walking behind it like the place belonged to you.

"Eddie, I need to talk to you"

"Not now, sweetheart. I'm a bit busy" he hurriedly spoke, unable to even look at you as he balanced 7 shot glasses between his hands. 

"Now, Eddie!"

"It's gonna have to wait, have a seat" he huffed and dragged a stool over to his side of the bar. "Wait" 

The only thing that kept you from making a scene right then and there was the number of people that were waiting for their drinks. And while you would've very gladly given Eddie a hard time, those people had nothing wrong. So, with a pout and a frown on your face, you sat down and proceeded to wait. 

"What's wrong? Can you tell me what happened?" Eddie eventually said in between orders, still visibly busy and not giving you all the attention you required.

"No" you crossed your arms, "Not like this"

"Did something happen?" he questioned, sounding genuinely worried. He threw the towel in his hand over his shoulder and leaned closer, softly touching your thigh as he spoke. "Tell me if-"

"I'll hit you" you snapped and shoved him. "Take a break"

And that was what he did. As soon as he got a little window of time, he asked his colleague to cover for him and then guided you out from behind the bar, and over to a more secluded corner.

"Ok, what happ-"

"Asshole!" you slapped his cheek - as hard as you could but nowhere near hard enough to do any real damage. "Fuck you!"

"Whoa!" Eddie gasped as he recoiled from the blow, instantly grabbing your wrist to stop you from delivering another blow. "What the hell happened?"

"30 dollars!? You lied to me!"

"Oh, that…"

"Yes! That! You're a fucking asshole!"

"Hey, now. Don't go there" Eddie calmly said, arms going up in a defensive position despite still holding onto your hand. "It was just a bit of fun. You had fun too, didn't you?"

"That's not the point"

"You didn't deny it!"

"Asshole!" you snapped again, this time using your free hand to hit his side. But he grabbed onto this wrist too, pulling you closer to him despite your protests. "Eddie, let me go!"

"No, you're gonna hit me again"

"Yes, I am. You lied to me"

"Ok, I lied" he raised his shoulders and rolled his eyes, "So what? We both had some fun, and you got in for free and also got a free drink. I think it's fair"

"No, it's not fair!" you tried to free yourself but his grip was iron strong. "It's not fair because it wasn't 30 dollars, you lied!"

"It was still 10 dollars, which you didn't have to pay, now did you?"

"I would've paid 10 dollars!"

"But you didn't. I saved you some money. I think you should just thank me, doll" 

"You're unbelievable" you scoffed, turning your head to the side so that you wouldn't have to look at him. 

Eddie however, had a different idea. As he let your wrists go, he cupped your cheeks into his hands so that you'd face him. Despite the annoyed look on your face, your hands traveled up to his sides, grabbing onto his leather jacket as he held you close. 

"Come on, you can't really be upset with me right now, sweetheart."

"Well, I am," you frowned. 

"I'm sorry, dove. It wasn't my intention. I never meant to upset you"

"You wouldn't have lied if you didn't want to upset me"

"I didn't think you'd find out" he chuckled, which deepened your frown. "Hey, look at me" 

"No" you pouted and turned your head to the side, making Eddie have to lean from left to right multiple times in order to meet your eyes.

"Angel, look at me, come on"

"No, Eddie, leave me alone!" you protested, but the smile was audible in your tone. He knew he got to you. 

"Hey, come on. Look at you, all smiling"

"I'm not smiling!" you said, trying to sound serious, but eventually giggled when you finally looked at him.

"There you go! That's my girl!" Eddie laughed and brought you closer, "You forgive me, doll, right?" he asked, lightly rubbing your chin with his thumb.

"No"

"You're a bad liar, sweetheart. I think you didn't even mind in the first place, did you?"

"I did!"

"Then why were you so wet for me, huh?" he grinned.

"I'm mad you lied to me" you sighed, not showing any signs of wanting to distance yourself from him anymore. "You didn't have to do that"

"How was I supposed to know you'd say yes?"

"You should've asked!"

"I'm sorry, baby. I really am" he said softly and then nudged your forehead with his. "Kiss me to make it better?"

"I don't want to kiss you, Eddie, I'm still upset"

"No, you're not" he laughed and leaned in, his lips brushing against yours a couple of times until you couldn't help it anymore. 

"You're an asshole, you know that?" you shook your head in disbelief, unable to contain your nervous laughter. But despite your words, you were still pressed against him, your hands on his waist and your lips inches away from his. 

"I'm fun, sweetheart. Just kiss me"

"Ok, but you're not going to lie to me again!"

"Never!" he swore, all wide eyed and not at all grinning as he did so. 

But you didn't pay too much attention. That promise, however empty, was enough for you to feel completely content with going in for a full kiss. He welcomed you fully, one of his hands finding your ass in no time, squeezing hard enough to bruise. But it only riled you up further as you clung onto him, breathing him in with every single brush of your tongue against his. 

"Ah! My lipstick!" you whined as you pulled away for air. 

"It looks alright, it didn't smudge, don't worry" Eddie smiled, looking at you in awe as you tried to make sure your lipstick didn't get all over your face. 

"The girls said it's blowjob proof, I guess they were right" you giggled when you saw no color transferred to Eddie's lips or your fingers. "That's 5 dollars well spent" 

"See?" Eddie grabbed your ass as he proudly spoke, "And now, thanks to me, you can get two more. I can even help you try them all out. Multiple times, see if they really are blowjob proof."

"How nice of you" you mocked.

"I know, right?" Eddie chuckled and then kissed your temple. "I have to go back to work now, though. You can hang out with me, if you want"

You were about to follow him, but right before he reached the bar, you tugged his sleeve. "Eddie? Can I ask for a favor?"

He blinked in curiosity. "Sure, sweetheart. What is it?"

"You know I told you I have this friend who likes-"

"Who likes the vocalist, yes, I remember"

"Yeah, well… I was wondering if you could introduce them?"

"Yeah, doll. No problem" Eddie said and looked around, "I think they're still in the back, come with me"

And you did. You followed him wordlessly and reveled in the privilege of walking through the "employees only" door. The dark and sticky corridor Eddie dragged you through had absolutely no reason to make you feel as important as it did, but you loved it. And once outside, in the parking lot you yourself had crossed earlier on your way to the concert, as you and Eddie approached the band's van, you still managed to feel important, as if there was business to attend to.

Even talking to the band you couldn't care less about felt empowering, especially the way each member went to shake your hand as Eddie did the introductions. But despite all of them being nothing but a happy and laid back bunch, you still felt the need to cower behind Eddie as he conversed with the vocalist.

Even though they were all heading inside for some well deserved post concert drinks, Eddie made sure to mention the one fan the man absolutely had to meet. 

"This one?" the vocalist, whose name you found out to be Joe, or Joey, asked, pointing at you.

Your eyes went wide, but Eddie only chuckled. "No, she's with me. It's one of her friends, though. She's inside" 

While the band still had a few minutes worth of organizing to do, you and Eddie headed back towards the bar. 

"I'm with you?" you giggled, almost feeling the need to cover your mouth at how giddy his words made you. 

"Aren't you?" Eddie laughed.

"I guess I am" you smiled and resumed your spot on the chair he had brought for you earlier. "Can I help you with stuff? Or is that allowed? I don't know"

"Everything's allowed, sweetheart, but don't worry. Enjoy yourself, I don't need any help. Sit there and be pretty for me"

"I can do that" you wiggled your legs in the air. "And thank you for speaking to Joey. She's gonna be so happy, I'm never going to hear the end of it"

After sending you a knowing smile, Eddie put his arm around your shoulders and kissed your forehead, "Anything for you, sweetheart"

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter Nine: Better

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: language, a smidge of angst, fluff, small fight, Mickey being shifty, mentions of Mickey’s rough home life, soft!Mickey, gaslighting, light smut (finally, right?) dry humping, Mickey creaming his pants, slight dirty talk, slight praise, blood, etc

A/N: Whooooo boy! This chapter was SO much fun to write, we finally have our first bit of light smut. Not penetration, not even being naked but trust me, it’s not. I love these two dickheads so fucking much, so it means a lot to me that you guys reading like them too. Really motivates me to write, so a big, huge massive THANK YOU! Once again, thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for editing and beta reading for me. You’re their number one fan and that makes me want to sail, THANK YOUUUU!!!!

@lizey-thornberry

Three months.

It has been just about three months of being blissfully happy, and it honestly felt surreal. I could feel myself falling harder and harder for Mickey every passing day, when his fingers would brush the hair out of my face as the wind blew, when he’d snake his arms around my waist whilst I was working on a paper for class and whisper into my ear, when he would kiss me, so soft and so gentle as though I’d break. I sometimes wondered if he was afraid of that, moving himself against me too roughly would make me splinter and threaten to shatter in his hands like some fragile glass doll, it wasn’t like I wasn’t thankful for the kind treatment, far from it, but yet, I wondered still.

But it hadn’t gone further than that, further than kissing, not really. I wasn’t ready.

I knew I wanted to, God, I wanted to. Whenever a make out session got too heated he would be the first one to pull away, gently gripping the tops of my arms and moving me softly but firmly with a smile, saying, “We’ve got time, baby,” And kissing my forehead.

He was so patient, it was disconcerting. In the frenemy part of our relationship, I didn’t know he could be this way. The way Randy and even Derek would talk about his escapades, I doubted Mickey had the capacity to be soft and gentle with anybody, but with me? It was almost like he was a different person.

Almost.

He still had an edge to him, something I hadn’t quite been able to put my finger on in the three months I’d been dating him. It seemed as though every day that passed he’d get more and more distant, glued to his computer and his cell, and our dates started falling few and far between. Sometimes it’d be days before I’d hear from him, and he’d come bounding back without so much as an apology, let alone an explanation. To start with, I didn’t ask for one, maybe I just preferred remaining blissfully unaware, not wanting the bubble to burst, or trying to be at the very least.

I hadn’t spoken with Randy since our fight, although I tried. Every time I’d approach him he’d stalk off like a fucking child, leaving the collective friendship group with raised eyebrows and confused comments, to which I’d just wave off. Sidney most of all was concerned, telling me as much when she found me on the green a few days prior.

“You have to talk to him, D.” She told me, voice firm and pressing, and her eyes fixed on me. I knew how it seemed to her, she didn’t want any more broken bonds or promises, we’d all been through enough. But honestly, at that moment, I didn’t care. I didn’t owe Randy anything, least of all speaking to him. He wouldn’t apologize, he never did. Why would he if he thought he was in the right?

I rolled my eyes at the sound of her voice, not out of annoyance, but about the fact I knew this conversation was coming as I dropped my pen onto my notebook and shot her a look, eyebrows arching a fraction as I watched her stare at me, fingers tapping rhythmically against her elbow as she crossed her arms.

“Don’t give me that look, Dahlia.” She said in a tone reminiscent of scolding a child. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear before moving my hands under the table, so she wouldn’t catch the twisting motion of my ring. She knew me too well, knew my tells when I was nervous or anxious about something. I looked at her dead on, sucking in a breath before saying in a clipped tone, “He can come and talk to me. I didn’t do anything wrong. What’re you doing here, anyway? Don’t you have theatre?”

Sid sat side-saddle on the bench beside me, elbow propped up on the table and her head resting on her hand as she spoke, “That was an hour ago, Derek’s meeting me here.” I noticed how her tone softened as she said Derek’s name before immediately becoming serious again. “It’s been three months and you and Randy have barely said five words to each other, Dahlia. You two usually can’t go five minutes without talking to each other, what the hell happened?”

I pursed my lips, hesitating and trying to plot out my response before telling her. As I looked into her big, brown eyes, I knew I could trust her. Sid wasn’t one for gossip, but I was worried. Worried that as soon as I told anybody what was going on between Mickey and I the bubble would finally burst and things would become a little too real.

She watched my expression, saw the hesitation in my eyes, and her hand dropped to mine under the table, halting the twisting motion on my ring and squeezing it softly as if prompting me to tell her. Sidney was perceptive, and knew me far too well.

So I told her. There was no use in lying, and I fucking hate lying anyway.

I told her everything, my feelings for Mickey, how we had started dating three months ago and decided not to tell anybody, how Randy confronted me about it and blew his fucking top, and how I felt about Mickey. How I really felt.

“You’ve known him longer than I have, Sid.” I spoke after I finished telling her everything. She’d listened patiently, hand remaining over mine as I told the tale.

“I suppose.” She said with a small shrug before adding, “But not that much longer. Why?”

“I know how he… Was. Randy is worried that he’s going to end up breaking my heart, but he doesn’t see the Mickey I see, you know?” I know I sounded more like I was trying to convince myself rather than her, but she nodded thoughtfully as I continued, “I love Randy, but he doesn’t understand. Mickey makes me feel…”

“Better?” Sidney suggested when it seemed as though I was at a loss for words.

Better. It was somehow the perfect word. Not completely healed, not perfect, but better, and it was enough. More than enough. I had spent ages clinging on to life, barely, hardly scraping by, unsure how I would remain afloat, ages spent in almost stasis, half-life. Not dead, but not alive either, a cheap facsimile of an existence, not one of note or satisfaction. Then he came along. He changed it. With Mickey, I didn’t feel that way. When I was with him? I felt alive, I felt happy, I felt fucking good and yes, better. Much better.

“Yeah, better. He makes me feel like a human being again.” I sighed, pushing my hair out of my face with my free hand. I was itching to play with the ring on my finger, to indulge in my nervous habit of choice but fought the urge and just kept looking at Sid, my knee bouncing anxiously.

“I don’t want to get hurt.” I added softly. I could be vulnerable around her, I knew that, and it helped greatly.

“Who does?” Sid’s other hand moved to my knee, stopping the increasingly rapid bouncing motion as she spoke very gently, but very clearly, “But if you don’t want to, then you won’t. You’re smart, Dahlia. Smart enough to know if someone’s playing you.”

I looked at her and pointed at the covered scar on my stomach, smiling a little and sarcastically saying, “Yeah, I’m real perceptive.”

Sid smiled faintly, but didn’t speak, allowing me to continue.

“And lately he’s just been… Weird, you know? He’s always getting phone calls, gets really shifty if I ask who it is, or just changes the subject all together. I don’t want to be paranoid, but I know how he was, you know, before. I don’t just want to be another name on the list of people who he’s had in his bed.”

“Do you really think he’d do that?” She asked me, moving her hand from my knee to lean her elbow against the table before carrying on, “I don’t think he’d be in a relationship with you only to mess it up by cheating, it doesn’t seem like his style.”

I stared back at her, thoughtful for a moment, before slowly shaking my head no, eyes flickering past Sidney’s head to see Mickey and Derek approaching, Mickey smiling at me warmly.

“They’re here.” I said quickly, standing up and grabbing my bag from beside me, as Sidney twisted around to look behind her, waving her hand at Derek. “Thanks, Sid.” I added softly as the boys eventually made their way to us.

Derek smiled at me politely before moving to Sid, bending down and lightly catching her lips with his. She melted into it with a blissed out smile, and I saw Mickey roll his eyes from the corner of my eye, making me have to bite back a laugh.

“Mind if I steal her, Dahlia?” Derek asked, his eyes not leaving Sidney as his hand slipped into hers and their fingers laced together.

I smiled at him though he wasn’t looking and responded with a simple, “Of course.” Sidney glanced at me then at Mickey, something he didn’t miss, before saying goodbye to both of us and leaving with Derek.

“She knows, huh?” He asked, watching Sid and Derek walk away, and I simply shrugged with a, “Yeah, she does. That a problem?”

He looked back at me, settling down on the bench and patting the space beside him. I looked down at his hand, pursing my lips and staying put, arms crossing across my chest tightly. He stopped the patting motion, hands moving to rest on his knees as he sighed deeply, leaning back and his eyebrows raising curiously at me as he asked, “What? Am I in trouble?”

“That depends.” I gripped my elbows tightly, eyes scanning his face as I thought about how to ask him.

I cared for Mickey, cared deeply. More than I thought was even possible. He’d picked me up and slowly began piecing me back together, did I want to risk that? I wasn’t an inherently jealous person, not usually anyway. At least, I didn’t think so. This was my first real relationship with someone I actually cared about, the feelings I was having were completely unfamiliar, a brand-new concept of feeling. Would this ruin it?

“Who keeps calling you?” I blurted out, eyes trained on his face and my voice a little sharper than I intended it to be. His expression smoothed, looking as blank as a mask as his head cocked just slightly to the side, fingers stopping the drumming motion on his leg.

“What do you mean?” he asked me calmly, maybe a little too calmly. Not as though he’d been necessarily expecting the question, but more unsurprised.

“Whoever you’re speaking to on the phone, you get all distracted and different afterwards. I know it’s probably none of my business but-“

“It is none of your business, Dahlia.” He interrupted me, voice a touch sharper as his fingers dug a little into his thigh, not looking away from my face, “What, you think it’s some bitch I have on the side? Didn’t we have this conversation three fucking months ago when we decided to, “try this out”?” His fingers came up in air quotations before falling back into his lap, a small tut and a roll of his eyes as he continued, “Fuck, Dahlia. Come on.”

A part of me knew exactly what he was doing, twisting things to direct everything back onto me, make me feel insecure and stupid. I hate to admit that it worked. He had me, he had me so fucking bad, I was ignoring every screaming red flag being thrust at me.

Pathetic, right?

I opened my mouth to backtrack, to apologize, tell him it really was none of my business, but he just shook his head at me, pushing himself up sharply and looking away from me, a hint of something I couldn’t quite distinguish briefly crossing his face before disappearing just as quickly. Pain? Hesitation? Regret?

“I’m not cheating on you, Dahlia.” His voice was calmer, but he still didn’t look at me directly, stared past me as though I wasn’t even there. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then what’s going on?” I found myself approaching him, hands reaching up and holding his face in hands and making him look at me. His brown eyes looked into my own, and he sighed, hesitating for a moment before saying carefully, “It’s complicated. I don’t want to involve you, it’s messy, you know?”

I did know messy, apparently I attracted it, but at that moment I didn’t care. My fingers pressed firmly to his cheeks and he sighed, hands falling to my hips.

“So curious.” He mumbled, his forehead pressing gently against mine.

“You can talk to me.” I promised him, my tone was soft, hopeful, yet Mickey still flinched at my words, as if I shouted them in his face as opposed to the whisper I had put out into the air between us.

“Not here.” He said quickly, his hand moving from my hips to take my hand from his cheek, tugging me to his dorm room across campus.

Once inside, I realized I’d never been in his dorm, he was always in mine. I was pleasantly surprised to see it was cluttered but clean, posters of movies I’d never heard of crowded his walls, mountains of CD’s and DVD’s were piled high beside his television. I noticed it was a double room that he somehow had all to himself and questioned him about it curiously. He shrugged it off as he always did, mumbling about his scholarship and how it has its perks before he sat on his couch, gently pulling me down beside him. The place screamed him, it was nice, I could see myself spending time here and even better than that, it smelled like him, but in a very nice way, not in a reeking of dude kind of way so many college guy’s places did.

I looked at him expectantly, pulling my legs up under me and leaning back against the couch as he began to slowly attempt to explain what had been going on.

“I’ve got somewhat of a chequered past, Dahli.” He began, picking at a loose thread of his sweater, a small habit I noticed he took up when he was feeling anxious, and not making eye contact with me. I reached forward and placed my hand over his, stopping the motion and smiling encouragingly at him. He looked at me, soft brown eyes melting a little, and continued.

“My parents weren’t that great, not bad, but bad enough that I was bounced around the system for a lot of my childhood before I was placed back with them when I was fourteen. They’d had another kid by then, my brother. I started acting out, guess I felt replaced. It was just silly things, petty theft, the occasional Grand Theft Auto,” he flashed his devastating smile, but it didn’t quite touch his eyes, “Then things got more… serious. I was getting arrested a lot, my parents kicked me out, and everything just got worse. I try to stay in touch with my brother as much as I can, but it kind of just faded out when I started college.”

He adjusted himself on the couch, so he was directly facing me, my hand still gripping his tightly. “The phone calls I’ve been taking were from my mom, Dahlia. She asked me to stop trying to contact them, they want to move on from all the shit I put them through, says they can’t do that if I’m pestering them.”

It baffles me now how swiftly he managed to twist the truth about his life, and how easily I chose to believe him.

“I’m sorry, Mick. Fuck, I’m such an idiot.”

He shook his head, free hand moving on top of mine and smoothing his thumb over my knuckles as he said softly, “You’re really not.”

“I’m sorry about your family. They sound like dicks.” I commented.

A small smile broke out across his face and he chuckled a little before saying very pointedly, “Can’t all families be dicks?”

I smiled back at him, moving my hand from his and resting my palm on his cheek. He leaned into my touch, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of my cold hands before opening back up and settling back on my face.

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbled, and I couldn’t help but laugh, thinking he was just being playful, but then bit the inside of my cheeks when I saw his serious face. His hand moved to my leg, fingers lightly grazing my thighs through my jeans as he leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against mine.

I threw myself into it, the argument and fake confessions already forgotten as my hand moved from his cheek and into his hair, his own sliding up to grip my waist. He was being careful, calculated and was clearly doing his best to hold back, something he wasn’t at all used to doing. I knew that. But at that moment, I suddenly didn’t want him to be holding back.

I wasn’t ready to have sex with him, not yet. But I’d spent so long feeling nothing, I felt the overwhelming desire to feel anything, feel him touch me.

So instead of this just being another make out session, I decided to push myself.

It was important to be cautious, the last time things escalated I had the panic attack of all panic attacks, so I moved carefully, deliberately. I pushed myself up, moving one leg over him to straddle him as his hands remained on my hips, my lips not moving from his. A curious hum sounded from his mouth as he pulled back, looking up at me cautiously.

“I want to try something, if that’s okay?” I breathed, hands resting on his shoulders. He looked interested, an almost cocky smile on his face as he asked, “We’re not going to fuck, are we?”

I shook my head, reaching behind me to take his hands from my waist and move them to my ass, his expression grew even more interested.

“Oh, I see.” He said, tone even yet amused, “You want to grind-“

I cut him off, placing my hand over his mouth, and he chuckled from behind it, eyebrows raising.

“Don’t be crude.” I muttered, and he mumbled something from behind my hand. I slowly pulled it away, so he could speak clearly.

“We don’t have to.” His tone was more gentle, hands still tense on my ass. I nodded my head with a shrug, “I know, but I want to.”

That’s all he needed to hear.

I knew he was probably pent-up, knew his sex drive was ridiculously high, and he hadn’t been able to do anything about it, other than get himself off. After our make out sessions, he’d usually leave rock hard, having to adjust himself, so it wasn’t obvious on the walk back to his dorm, but he never complained, not once. But with how hard his blunt fingers were digging into the thin material of my sweats and pressing into the flesh of my ass, how his hips were slowly beginning to grind upward against me, I knew he was holding back yet again.

The pressure made me gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders and squeezing tightly. It was a subtle, soft pressure, the feeling of it felt shockingly good. Within three moves of his hips, I was seriously feeling it, eyes unfocused as the friction and slow simmering build of sensation sets in. I tried not to squeeze him much harder and just keep my mind on what he was doing, on the rhythm he set, steady, sure, but easy. All too soon being still wasn’t enough, I needed more, to contribute, so I did.

Tentative and certainly not in any kind of particular rush, I grind back experimentally, hips moving down and that pulled another sound from me and one from him too. The feeling of the fabric sliding back and forth on me was amazing, I could feel how wet I’d gotten, damp material plastered to my quickly becoming sensitive skin.

“Are you okay?” The question surprised me, a small shake of my head I force my eyes back into focus and look down at him. He was staring up at me, concerned, our bodies had not stopped moving, and I nodded, appreciating him checking in. “Yeah. M’ great. Why?”

“You’re just really outta breath.” He laughed and shit, he was right. My breathing was extremely laboured, I tried to reign it in and instead of confirming with him that yes I was fine, I decided a much better move was to shut him up a different way. My mouth was back on him and I ground down the hardest I had yet, and the shocked groan he let out into my mouth was immensely satisfying.

I was surprised to realize how much I enjoyed this, the feeling of his hands gripping my ass, kneading it more and more roughly as the grinding of my hips slowly increased. I moaned into his mouth, fingers moving to his hair and knotting in the strands, gripping and just tugging at it desperately, my hips rolling down a little harder, meeting him in the middle.

The action pulled another groan out of him, hands moving to my waist to force myself against him, halting for just a moment. I’d never felt like this before, suddenly understanding why in high school everyone was at it at any given opportunity.

I pulled back, looking down at his face impatiently and a smile broke across his face, fingers dancing underneath my shirt as he said softly, “Feel good?”

“I did, then you stopped.” I complained. I could feel myself pulsing, clenching desperately around nothing for more contact. I could feel him throbbing from between the thin material of his pants, so hard beneath me, it was making me insatiable.

“I just need- a second. You’re driving me fucking crazy here, Dahlia.” He breathed, voice a little strained and the fact I did that to him, made him sound like that, caused him to struggle to maintain his composure, made me feel a weird sense of pride and arousal mixing low in my stomach.

It gave me a second to catch my breath, but it wasn’t long. Before I could even think, his arms completely wrapped around me, briefly picking me up and making me let out a surprised squeal as he moved me underneath him, climbing on top of me and hoisting my legs around his waist, quickly asking, “Is this okay?” As one hand pressed against my hip and the other weaved into my hair, grasping the soft strands between his long fingers gently.

I nodded, pushing my hips up eagerly, and he let out a small laugh, head moving down, so his lips grazed my collarbone as he pushed himself against me. I could feel the length of him rubbing against my covered clit, nudging and pressing against it a little harsher than before. My head fell back against the arm of his couch and I let out a loud moan, surprising even myself at the volume, but that only seemed to encourage him, especially when I shakily breathed, “Fuck, Mickey,” into his ear, my fingers twisting in his shirt.

His hands moved from my waist and in between us, pushing my legs open for him by my inner thigh as he continued to move against me, grinding faster, almost desperately as his lips moved to my ear, whispering to me softly, “You’re so fucking good, so perfect, I can’t believe I get to be the first person to make your pretty little pussy cum.”

The feeling building up inside of me was something I’d never felt before. Hearing him speak, knowing that him being the first person to get me off was such a turn on to him, it was for me too. I could feel myself growing even wetter, impossibly so, my panties drenched so much that I knew he could probably feel the dampness through the thin layer of material covering him, and he could most definitely feel the heat.

His hand further pressed on my inner thigh more firmly, I could feel myself coming to an unfamiliar edge as my back began to arch off his couch, my legs itching wider for him as he rubbed and ground his clothed cock against my covered pussy, the sensation of my clit being pressed against with such pressure that I felt myself explode, gasping his name over and over again into his ear as though it was a prayer as my body began to spasm. My leg that wasn’t being pressed down kicking out to wrap around his waist, pulling myself as close to him as I could as my manicured fingernails digging into his back under his shirt sharply, causing him to let out a small hiss, cursing under his breath, the sensation sending him cussing. He was fucking himself against me only a couple more times before I felt the sudden hot spurt of liquid come through his pants and seep through his own clothes and into mine with a groan of my name into my throat as his hips slowly came to a stop.

It was insanely quiet for a moment, only the sounds of my almost laboured breathing and his own before he slowly pulled his head from the crook of my neck to look at me, lifting a hand to swipe his thumb over my cheekbone. I forced my eyes open, looking into his eyes and saw the smile on his face, making me break into one myself as I breathed out, “What?”

“You’re just… You’re so beautiful.” He spoke so softly as he repeated what he said earlier, but it felt different. In the new context after what we just did, the words had more weight, felt heavier but made me feel lighter, heart beating hard in my rib cage.

Mickey’s eyes were scanning over my face as he spoke. His cheeks were deeply flushed, his hair even messier than usual, and his pupils dilated. I could only guess I looked somewhat similar to him. I could feel my hair sticking to my neck and forehead with sweat, the fire in my stomach burning out nicely as my smile widened, and I moved my face to his, kissing him softly before letting my head fall back again.

“Are you okay? Was that your first-“

“I’m fine.” I answered his first question before laughing a little with a roll of my eyes and interrupting him, “God, no. I’ve done it to myself, but it was never, you know, like this.” I interrupted with a laugh. As he slowly sat up, I noticed him flinch slightly, and I moved up with him, a little confused, until he laughed, touching his back and pulling his hand away. I was surprised to see the crimson staining the tips of his fingers and I questioned him, concerned, “You’re bleeding?” Before reaching behind him to lift his shirt, eyes widening as I saw the mess of his back.

“Kinky little bitch in the making, aren’t you?” He laughed.

“Fuck, Mickey, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry!” I began rambling apologies to him, feeling guilty and embarrassed, but he just looked at me like I was insane, a baffled expression on his face as he pushed some loose hair off his forehead.

“You’re sorry for what? Scratching my back?” He asked, genuinely curious and amused.

“Well, yeah.” It was my turn to look confused as I stared at him with furrowed eyebrows, “I hurt you.”

“Dahlia,” Mickey turned back round, wiping his middle and forefinger together until the blood disappeared and then moving his hands toward my face, fixing some of my messy curls back into place before placing them on either side of my face, making me look at him with that amused but affectionate smile still on his face as he said, “Don’t be stupid, you could never hurt me.”

Read Chapter Ten HERE

[sodasback]

Ex BF - Part 2

Drew Starkey x Reader

Part 1

You guys, I changed my mind, this one just works so much better as a Drew Starkey fic ...so fuck it, I’m just gonna post what I had on my deactivated blog. 

It had been months since you ran into Josh on set at Drew’s work. Luckily, Drew was only in a couple scenes for that project and he only worked on that show one more day without running into Josh. Now, you, Drew and a lot of the Outer Banks crew were all in LA again and going out to a bar.

Unfortunately for you, and everyone that night, Josh and his friends were at the same bar.

“Oh hey, it’s y/n and her movie star boyfriend, Andrew.” Josh said as he appeared next to you and drunkenly leaned an arm on your shoulder. If looks could kill, the look on Drew’s face would have for sure been the death of Josh. It was a mixture of shock and rage at the audacity of this guy. Drew was so taken aback, he didn’t know how to react.

You uncomfortably chuckled and squirmed out from under Josh’s arm to stand in front of Drew quickly, not knowing if Drew’s truly calm nature could be tested any further. “Mhmm, great to see you Josh.” You stated dismissively.

Your effort to separate them was lost as Drew instantly and easily maneuvered you behind him protectively. You turned for the bar as quickly as possible, hoping to end the situation there, so you grabbed Drew’s hand to pull him along with you.

“Aww, y/n/n, you’re not gonna stay and let me get to know your little boyfriend?”

You felt dead weight behind you as you tried to pull Drew away. 

“Bro, I’m telling you right now, back the fuck off.” Drew stated. You whirled around to get in front of him, as Josh took a step forward and titled his chin up, “Or what?”

You put your hands on Drew’s chest. He easily looked over your head to continue glaring at Josh.

“Drew” you said sternly. He glanced down at you for a second, before looking back up at Josh. Josh smirked and waited to see what Drew was gonna do. “He’s not worth it. Trust me.” You said. Drew looked down at you and softened. 

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder an you wrapped both arms around his waist to walk to the bar. 

“You know, as hot as you are when you get all scary like that. I really really don’t want you getting in a fight because I have an absolutely horrible ex boyfriend.” 

You emphasized the first part of this sentence, but Drew just gave you a deadpan stare. He knew you were trying to flirt with him to get him to relax. And you knew it was too late at this point. As evolved and emotionally intelligent as Drew was, he had now entered caveman mode. Josh challenging him because of you triggered instincts deep within him to meet that challenge aka defending your honor. ...1 point toxic masculinity, 0 points non-violent female empowerment.

At this point in your life, you were happy. You had everything you wanted in your career. You had a beautiful apartment. Your family was healthy. You had the best friends you could ask for. And of course, you had Drew. Drew was the one. He was your soulmate. Your best friend. And you knew it. You didn’t feel the need to put Josh in his place any more. You just wanted to keep enjoying your life. You had time to make peace with what Josh did to you and you felt like you moved past it and him. Yeah, you felt like you were past it, you tried to convince yourself. It had been years since the incident happened and you and Josh broke up...

Flashback

You and Josh were 20 and had been on and off for a couple years. One night, you had both been out, when you started fighting, something that wasn’t new to your relationship. Josh had been flirting with another girl a lot of the night and gaslighting you to make you feel like you were imagining it. As you brought up the flirting again, he was reaching for his car keys. You were pissed that he was using this tactic again. He would leave until you calmed down and started to worry about him so much that you would just finally give in and forget the fight, instead of holding him accountable. You were so mad at him for making you feel like you were crazy and for always manipulating you by leaving. You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth, “Sure, just leave again. Fucking typical, Josh. Like father, like son, I guess.”

And before you could even process what happened, the whole right side of your face was stinging, a cut near eye was bleeding from his ring and your ears were ringing. Josh had just backhanded you hard. Time stood still for a moment as your hand went to cradle your cheek. You were absolutely shocked.

“Oh fuck. You okay?” 

You finally looked up at him with an unreadable expression on your face. “..don’t make this a big deal, okay? That was a really shitty thing to say and you just made me so mad, I couldn’t help i-” At that point, you stormed into the bedroom and locked the door. He now was faced with you being upset and maybe even losing you; he started knocking on the door and apologizing profusely after realizing your reaction. You were completely blocking out all the noise coming from the other side of the door as you tried to gather your thoughts. 

Okay, that was a really low blow. Yeah, but he HIT you.

I definitely shouldn’t have said that. But he HIT you.

Maybe I deserved it. No, he HIT you. You continued to argue with yourself.

What would you tell your y/bff’s/n if this happened to her?

What would your mom or dad tell you right now?

If he did it once, he could do it again.

...this isn’t the first time you’ve been scared of him.

...but he seems genuinely really sorry.

You opened the door to find Josh sitting on the ground leaning against the wall. He looked at you scared and hopeful, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry for what I said. It was really unfair and hurtful of me.” You stated genuinely.

Relief washed over his face for a second, “I’m so sorry baby. I swear that will never happen again.” He said, as he got up and he started to make his way to hug you. 

“Yeah, I know it will never happen again...” you held your hand out to stop him from touching you, confusion now evident in his expression, “because we’re done.”

His face dropped, expression now being somewhere between confused, angry and disappointed. Josh wasn’t used to you putting up boundaries and not letting him get away with all the shit he pulled. “Y/N-” he started. 

“No.” You said adamantly, “Frankly, I don’t care how sorry you are. I don’t care how much I pissed you off. I don’t care how much you promise that will never happen again. Our relationship was toxic before what just happened. I know I’m not perfect and I have a lot of things to work on. But I 1000% know in my bones, that I WILL NEVER let you hit me again. I deserve better. We’re done. I’m going to my parents’ house. I’m coming back tomorrow between 10 and 2 to get my stuff. Don’t be here.”

A couple months later, you had a text from an unknown number. It was Josh borrowing a friend’s phone to text you, since you blocked any way he had to contact you. He apologized. He held himself accountable. There was no deflecting or manipulating in the message and he promised he would never contact you again. You replied: “Thank you for your apology. Yes, I’d appreciate it if you don’t contact me again.”

And that was it. You ran into him briefly at the grocery store once and you had been in a really good mood. Your interaction was light and almost flirty. You felt so ashamed about it later, but you hadn’t seen or heard from Josh again until years later, with Drew on set. And little did you know, seeing you with Drew set something off in Josh that he just couldn’t let go.

-

As you stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender’s attention, you turned to see the caveman version of your gorgeous boyfriend still glaring, his fists clenching and unclenching.

“Babe.” You said and he looked at you.

“He’s got fuckin nerve.” He said shaking his head and you took a deep breath ready for the rant, “First off, called me a movie star. I am a serious actor, Y/N.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh at Drew being offended anything this asshole said and Drew’s eyes widened at you and you stifled a giggle while you laced your hands around his neck to appease him, “Mhmm” you encouraged. 

“And then he called me ‘Andrew’“ Drew went on. And you nodded and gave him a sympathetic pout, “I know, I heard.”

“And THEN, he has the AUDACITY to put his fucking arm around you?! Bro, I’m heateddddd-” He continued, barely paying attention to you as you leaned your body against his. You ignored the fact that he just called you bro and tried a different tact. 

“Drew, stop. You can’t get into a bar fight. Think about your job.”

“I don’t care about my job. I care about you.”

“That’s not true. You do care about your job. And I know you care about me. But if you get into a fight right now, it’s not gonna change what he did to me. It was a long time ago. We’re not together anymore. I’m over it. Punching him is not gonna do anything except jeopardize your future.”

Drew still had his fight face on, “Well, knocking that smirk off his fucking face would sure make me feel better.” He said and you scowled at him. “And for the record, I don’t think you’re over it. And you don’t have to be. You never have to be over it. And that doesn’t mean you aren’t fucking strong and badass.” 

You were quiet as you contemplated what Drew said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, before looking at you. “Okay” he said softly. 

 “Thank you” you said softly before you pulled him down to kiss him. After a minute of you successfully distracting him with a pretty passionate slow kiss, you felt Drew melt a little. 

“Hey, I’m sorry. Do you want to leave? Like do you not feel like being out anymore?” He asked sweetly.

“No, I’m okay. He’s just being a drunk asshole.” You turned away to grab the drinks the bartender poured for you and Drew, “We probably won’t even see him for the rest of the night.” 

You turned back and realized caveman Drew was now glaring at Josh again as you spoke, “..or not.” You rolled your eyes.

Despite the bad beginning, you and your friends ended up having fun as the night went on. And you and Drew proceeded to drink. Which was probably not the smartest decision. You were both feistier when you drank and you knew Drew’s natural state of calmness was only going to wear off as the night went on.

Eventually, you had to go to the bathroom. But you didn’t trust Josh to not instigate something with Drew while you were gone and you didn’t trust Drew to not try and avenge your honor while you were gone either. So you found Austin, Chase and JD. Chase and JD were only half-listening as they watched whatever game was on the tvs at the semi-crowded bar. 

“Guys, I need you to watch Drew while I go pee.” You said. Drew rolled his eyes and hung his head back with a groan.

“What’s the rig?” Austin asked, ironically using his favorite word as he put one arm on your shoulder and the other on Drew’s.

“Drew is trying to fight my ex-boyfriend and you need to stop him from ruining his career and/or going to jail for assault.” You looked at Drew as you finished your sentence remind him that he could get in serious trouble for getting in a fight. Drew scoffed as Austin looked to him for confirmation of what you were saying.

“He called me a movie star dude” Drew said.

“Oooff” Austin agreed that this was a major dig.

“And then he called me ‘Andrew’“

“Ahhh man” Austin commiserated, “This kid deserves to get hit for sure.”

“Austin!” You scolded, “You are not helping!”

“Bro, that’s not even half of it. Like what he did to Y/N; he deserves to get the absolute shit beat out of him, I promise you-”

“Okay, stop! We’re not discussing this. Chase, JD, you are in charge of Drew. Keep him occupied while I go pee and don’t let him ruin his entire life by getting in a stupid bar fight. And Austin, stop encouraging him and keep your mouth shut til I get back please!” You commanded, as you pushed Drew and Austin toward Chase and JD. JD gave you a salute while he put his arm around Drew’s shoulders. 

While you were gone, Drew was drunk and spilling all your business, trying to get all 3, also drunk, boys on his side. “Guys, you don’t even know. This guy is the biggest asshole.”

“Wait, is he really? Or do you just not like him because he’s y/n’s ex?” JD asked.

“No dude. First of all, he like cheated on her a bunch of times; he was super manipulative and .. he fucking hit her once dude.”

The all looked at each other, “What the fuck?!”

“Like hit her?”

“Yeahhhhhh, like physically hit her face.”

“Well you are completely justified, brother.”

“Yeah, we have your back man, whatever happens.” They all nodded and broke out of their little huddle.

“Look! No fighting!” Chase said proudly when you got back, opening up his arms.

“Good job Chase. Gold star” You said returning his quick side hug.

The group decided it was time to go to one more bar, so you all walked out the back ext into a big alley. Where, of course, Josh and his friends were smoking and noticed your crew before you noticed them.

“You think her movie star boyfriend knows what an uptight little prude she used to be?” Josh said to his friend loud enough for you to hear. You honestly didn’t even care about what Josh said, you knew he was trying to get Drew to react. And you knew even your sweet, soft Drew was not immune to anger getting the best of him. Drew stopped walking, still slightly turned away from Josh and just shook his head, not believing Josh’s audacity. 

Even though the guys had been supportive when they were talking to Drew about fighting Josh, no one actually wanted that to happen. So Austin was quickly by Drew’s side, “Don’t do it bro. It’s not worth it.”

“Drew.” You said trying, to get him to focus on you. Unfortunately, you were with a group of boys full of testosterone and Chase was also feeling feisty and protective. 

“Hey, why don’t you shut the fuck up bro” Chase said, taking a step toward Josh, but luckily a level-headed JD was immediately pushing Chase softly backward. 

“Ooh maybe, she’s not such a prude anymore. Maybe she’s sleeping with the whole cast; they’re all so protective of her.” Josh laughed.

“Josh stop! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You yelled at him. And Drew was instantly moving in front of you, “You need to stop talking right now man.” Drew said in a tone that made the hair on your arms stand up. You could feel the tension rolling off Drew.

“Drew calm down. Please.” You pleaded as he looked down at you.

“Y/n, I can’t let him talk about you that way.”

“He’s trying to get under your skin. That’s what he wants.”

“Yeah, well it’s fucking working.”

“Drew, come on. Let’s just go home.” He began to give in as you pulled his arm. 

Josh was obviously determined for a fight, because the next thing that came out of his mouth made it impossible for anyone to stop Drew.

“Hey good luck with y/n, man. I treated her like trash for years and she still came running back to me, bitch has got issu-” And before he could utter another word, Drew’s fist connected with his jaw. 

“Fuck.” You cursed as your hands went through your hair and you backed up between Austin, Chase and JD.

Josh recovered and hit Drew in the eye. 

You gasped. Turning into JD’s chest and he protectively wrapped his arms around you. Drew hit Josh again and he fell to the ground. Drew bent over him and punched him again. “Don’t you ever fucking talk about her again!” He yelled through gritted teeth, “Don’t look at her again. And if you EVER touch her again, I swear to God-” he spat in between a few more punches. 

“Drew! Please!” You yelled and finally Austin pulled him back. “That’s enough, bro.” 

“Come on” JD still had his arms around you, walking you away from everything. 

Drew was breathing heavy and trying to overcome his adrenaline. You and JD were already around the corner with most of the group. 

“Come on, let’s go” Chase ushered Drew away with Austin. And they followed in the same direction. Drew saw you walking ahead of him. 

“Y/N” he called after you softly. You stopped and turned around. He was already right there enveloping you in his arms. 

“Fuck y/n. I’m so sorry.” He muttered kissing the top of your head. You just kept holding each other while the group called Ubers. 

You pulled away from him a little, “Are you okay?” You asked trying to get a look at the bruise forming on his face. “Yeah, baby. I’m fine. I’m so sorry I did that. I’m sorry I put you in this situation.” He said, hugging you again. After a long pause, you pulled up and looked up at him:

“Thank you.” You stated genuinely and Drew looked at you surprised. But while you continued to look at each other, you both understood without saying anything more. You both knew it wasn’t okay that Drew just got in a fight. And you both knew you didn’t need your boyfriend to defend you honor, but you were thankful someone finally had.

Taglist: @moniamaybank @abbyj1822 @october-cameron @hernameisnoell @railmerafe @stupidpendeja @lemur46 @phantompogues 

[volturiwolf]

The Volturi Princess - A Felix Volturi x fem!Reader Story (part 1)

A/N: This is the first Volturi- and Twilight-related story I ever started writing and it is quite long and elaborated/complex, as I tend to overanalyze in many parts. I have wrote a few parts until now and I'll be uploading them in the future. I have been quite emotional throughout writing it, trying to understand the reader's point of view.

A/N 2: I'm sorry if something doesn't make sense. English is not my first language. I also include Italian through the story, with translation, but I'm not a native or a speaker, so I'd like to apologize in advance to those who speak Italian. Enjoy :)

A/N 3: According to "The Amagi" on Youtube, Felix was born in 250 BC (their thumbnail), so I used that in my story.

No of Words: about 5347

Mentions of: Abandonment, Abortion, Anxiety, Blood, Bruises, Coma/Comatosed State, Death Emotional Abuse, Emotional and Physical Pain, Gaslighting, Greece/Greek Language - with translation, Heartbreak, Italian Language - with translation, Manipulation, Murder, Pain, Panic Attacks, Pregnancy, Suffering, Suicide/Suicidal Thoughts, Swear Language, Throwing Up/Puking, Witches/Wizards/Witchcraft

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

My heart felt heavy. I may have just escaped the cruelest vampire of all, but I also ran away from the love of my life, my mate, the only person who could fully understand me in this world. I asked him to run away with me, but, although our bond was strong, he felt obliged to stay loyal to his master, his creator. I drove as fast as I could, away from the sunny Volterra, and away from him.

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(Y/N) grew up quite privileged, in Vampire terms. Being born into the Volturi coven was something many vampires could only dream about. (Y/N) was abandoned by her parents when she was a baby, but Aro, one of the three Volturi leaders, took her under his protection, and offered her more things than she could ever have imagined. After all, she was his only biological granddaughter, the “Volturi princess”, an heiress to the throne; her mother lost that “privilege” when she met and fell in love with a wizard.

(Y/N)’s mother soon got pregnant with her, and then later turned her husband into a vampire to help her with her pregnancy, and stay together forever. However, (Y/N)’s parents couldn’t raise her because they wanted to run free and careless, not commit to anything permanent, so Aro took over and raised his granddaughter with the highest honors and privileges, “as a princess should be raised”.

(Y/N) was a mix of Vampire, Witch and Human, due to the grandmother, Sulpicia, being human when Aro found her; Sulpicia later fell pregnant with (Y/N)’s mother, and Aro transformed her to vampire, as he had planned all along. Aro raised (Y/N) according to his own rules and morals, teaching her how to kill humans to feed from, how to attack and slip away from her opponents, how to lead other vampires, and most importantly, how to keep her identity and existence a secret, not only to humans, but other non-Volturi vampires as well. No one could know that there was a possibility of a vampire having a child with a human, and that the child could be effectively controlled and raised as a regular vampire.

As (Y/N) grew older and older, reaching the human age of 25 within 7 years of her birth, Aro would spend more and more time with her, examining and studying her possibilities and her potential powers’ development. (Y/N) grew up to be extremely strong and fast, an excellent tracker with great intelligence and understanding of the world around her. However, Aro could not risk sending her to “Volturi duties”. She was his hope for a stronger coven; with (Y/N) in the throne, Aro felt like he could conquer the vampire world with ease.

That’s why he was always searching for the best guards he could find, to protect the coven and do his work instead of himself, Caius, or (Y/N). He couldn’t rely on Marcus, as he proved to be too emotional since Didyme died, but was still valuable for his plan. Caius, on the other hand, although powerless, was far more sadistic and “diligent” in following vampire rules, and (Y/N)... (Y/N) was just too obedient, following every order Aro gave her - a strong asset for the Volturi.

Aro was changing guards and trackers quite easily, disposing them when they were no longer needed or when he found better ones. He needed talented and strong vampires to serve the coven and do their work.

Chelsea was the very first vampire Aro created solely to serve the Volturi, after recognizing her potential when she was human. Chelsea’s gift of relationship manipulation was truly useful in bringing new vampires into the coven and was used thousands of times during Volturi's reign. It could also easily dispose of them, making their bonds with other vampires break at will; those vampires were isolated by the other vampires and then killed - Aro couldn’t risk letting them get away knowing the Volturi’s secrets and life.

About 100 years later, Corin joined the Volturi, just a couple decades after (Y/N)’s birth. Corin’s gift of addictive contentment was the one which kept Marcus in the Volturi after Didyme’s death - along with Chelsea’s to make him committed to Aro’s greater plans, and was also used on Sulpicia, Athenadora and any other vampire in the Volturi guard to keep them satisfied being in the Volturi. Under Aro’s instructions, Corin was keeping Chelsea content with being in the Volturi, and Chelsea was keeping Corin loyal to them, each of them using their gifts against each other, without their knowledge.

Sometime between 230 and 220 BC, while travelling in Rome, searching for additional vampires to add to the coven, Aro supposedly met a young, strong and ambitious fighter, who wished to become a gladiator one day, named Felix. Felix did not only look, but also was physically capable of fighting even with beasts, during his short time as a fighter, way before the Colosseum was built. Born into a poor family, his strength was his only way of making money, and becoming a gladiator was his only way out of poverty, a way to provide for both his family and himself.

When his family was almost imprisoned by Roman army officers for outstanding debts, Felix was forced to make a deal with them to fight, in whatever they ordered him to. Fighting turned out to be the only way for Felix to deal with his emotions and rage towards people in power. When Aro approached Felix, he was promised a good life, where he wouldn’t have to worry about surviving another day. Felix did not seem willing enough, not being fond of the idea of serving people in power, who he so despised.

Luckily for Aro, Chelsea was the one who “convinced” Felix to join the Volturi guard, with Aro changing him afterwards. Unlike previous guards, Felix showed impeccable strength, speed and talent towards both dodging and initiating attacks, eventually making him a permanent member in the Volturi Guard, along with Chelsea and Corin.

Felix was assigned as the leading guard for the three kings’ protection, this role extending to the protection of their two wives and (Y/N); though Aro knew that, if it came to anyone attacking his granddaughter, she would be able to handle it by herself. However, he still wanted to make sure that she was safe and that Aro would do anything to protect her.

For about a couple millennias, (Y/N) was content with her situation, being the “Volturi princess” and all that. Besides, having Felix in the Volturi was another reason to stay in the coven, apart from staying loyal and true to Aro for taking her in, when she was abandoned.

Every time Felix looked into her eyes, she felt her whole body burn - though, it wasn’t a feeling of suffering, rather a feeling of longing, waiting for something to happen so badly that her body couldn’t control itself. Although she was partially a vampire, (Y/N) would feel like she couldn’t breathe, like her legs were ready to give up on her, like she wanted to grab Felix and never let go.

Felix, although not admitting it even to himself, would feel the same way, but he knew that his position would not allow him to approach (Y/N) in such a way. He was just a guard - although he was the strongest of them all, and she was the Volturi princess, one of his masters, whom he was only allowed to approach in order to protect. He didn’t want Aro to know he saw his granddaughter like that; it could cost him his position in the guard, or even his life. So, he kept these feelings deep within him, not allowing them to resurface, or act upon them.

However, every time these two existed at the same place, the invisible sparks between them would fly left and right. And only one vampire was able to see them. One who hadn’t felt these sparks in centuries.

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(Y/N)’s POV:

I yawned loudly as I woke from a long, much needed sleep. I was the only vampire around who was able to sleep, mostly due to my non-vampire natures. I didn't really need to sleep on a regular basis, but when I did, I could literally sleep 3 days straight and nobody would be able to wake me up. “For my own protection”, as Aro said, I would always have at least two guards outside of my room’s door, in case anything happened while I was sleeping. Like what could even happen? My room was at the furthest side of this huge castle. I’m pretty sure that if there ever was an attack against the Volturi, it would most probably have been dealt with immediately, and the attacker wouldn’t make it anywhere near my room.

I felt the warm sun on my skin, slightly glowing and sparkling beautifully. My eyes, mostly (Y/E/C) with a golden ring around the pupil, could easily adjust to the light. Unlike the other vampires, I could easily live among humans; I could sleep, eat human food, my skin not being as sparkly as others, and I could control my thirst far better than others.

Since Jane and Alec joined the coven, Aro would show an immense interest in them and their skills, helping them train daily and develop their powers further, eventually forgetting about me. I would spend more and more days away from the castle, “protected” by my anonymity, getting to know humans more and more. The longer I was observing them, the more they would trigger my interest in them. They could feel true emotions, real pain, real hurt, real love. They had their families, they received an unconditional love that I could never have.

Unbeknownst to Aro or anyone else for that matter, I have started developing new powers, similar to the other vampires in the Volturi coven or anyone else outside of it. I have also started noticing that I may have an immunity towards others’ talents, feeling that neither Corin’s addictive contentment made me satisfied with being in the Volturi, nor Chelsea’s relationship manipulation could keep me loyal to Aro anymore. If it weren’t for Felix, or Demetri and the Twins, who have all become my best friends by now, I would have probably left.

A vampire named Carlisle Cullen had visited the Volturi and stayed with us for a while, about 100 years ago. He saw the way the Volturi treated humans like they were nothing, and how they were as cruel as to kill other vampires, with the excuse that they were exposing our kind with the way they lived. Entire covens had been wiped out due to such excuses, a way to eliminate potential enemies from becoming too powerful and find as many talented vampires as possible and force them to join the Volturi.

Carlisle was talking about a new way of life, where vampires wouldn’t have to kill humans to survive, a life where vampires and humans could live in peace, without harming each other. He was insisting that vampires could survive on animal blood just as efficiently as with human blood; that animal blood would not make them weaker, and that it would be a much more ethical and sustainable way to feed.

Of course, Aro and Caius were the first ones to mock his proposition, clearly not caring about humans’ feelings and pain. Marcus did not budge at all, his heartache making him indifferent to anything around him. But I was growing more and more interested in this alternative way of life; I was, after all, feeding on human food already, so that I was feeding on human blood as little as I could.

It was a few years after Carlisle left Volterra that Eleazar joined the Volturi. Aro forced him to join after finding out he could detect if someone had any special ability. Aro considered his gift useful in identifying if any of his enemies had any special power when in battles, or when he sent Eleazar around the world to recruit talented vampires.

Eleazar was clearly not liking the way the Volturi forced their ways and wants on others, and how they could take advantage of others for their own benefit. I could just sense that he was displeased and was forcing himself to stay in the coven, one, due to Corin’s and Chelsea’s gifts, and two, out of fear of what could happen to him and his mate, Carmen.

Carmen, a vampire from Spain, like Eleazar, met with Eleazar while he was a guard here, they fell in love, and eventually, Eleazar decided to leave the Volturi and run away with Carmen. Aro decided that he did not care about him and his gift as much as others’, so he let him go unharmed, “blessing” them for safe travels.

Just a few days before he left, I consulted him on my own powers. Though a lower member of the guard, Eleazar had his own room, a decent place to stay, and spend his endless hours in. I knocked slightly on the door.

“Come in”, a calm voice was heard. I opened the door and came into his room. Carmen was sitting on the edge of their bed and Eleazar was reading a book on his desk. They both smiled sweetly. I just felt and knew they were too nice to fit anywhere in here, among the cruel and strict Volturi.

“(Y/N)! So nice to see you!”Carmen exclaimed and stood to hug me. The second we hugged I started seeing parts of her life in Spain, the calm waters of Catalunya, the vast vineyards where she would spend the early years of her life… I quickly detached myself from her embrace. I just couldn’t invade her privacy like that. She and Eleazar both looked at me worried, as if I had offended them.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t let you “show” me your whole life like that!” I looked at Carmen apologetically.

“(Y/N), you saw Carmen’s life?” Eleazar continued, intrigued by my words.

“That’s why I came to talk to you. I..I feel like I’ve been developing a gift, or a few gifts, to be completely honest. And I feel like.. like I have a specific power one day, and another power the next!” I stated frantically.

It was the first time I have openly talked about my powers to anyone, and I was shaking just by the words that came out of my mouth. Eleazar did not say anything, he just stood there for a few minutes, I supposed “examining” me, as if a doctor checking on a patient.

“Remarkable.” He said calmly. He looked at his mate with excitement, as if he just discovered a lost treasure. “(Y/N) has one of the most remarkable gifts I have ever seen.” He then turned to me. “You, (Y/N), are able to copy anyone else’s gifts and keep them as your own. You don’t even have to be in contact with them. Just by meeting someone, you can obtain their powers. I have never met anyone like that. You also seem to have obtained immunity to others’ powers, kind of like a shield. I have met such vampires before. From the stories Aro has been telling, your mother was like that. It is likely that you copied that gift for her. Such vampires are extremely useful to themselves or even others, in battles. Like themselves, you can use your gift to protect others from others’ powers, beside yourself.”

That came too sudden to my ears. I have assumed that I may have at least one power, but I didn’t realise I could copy others’ powers. That is why I was showing signs of Aro’s power!

“How can I train my powers? Eleazar! Carmen! You have to help me!”

“As you know, we will be leaving soon. I don’t know if there will be enough time to train you.”

“It’s okay. We will train as much as you want. Please, Eleazar! Please, Carmen!” I started begging them. As if they were hypnotized, they quickly looked at each other and agreed to help me.

The next few days, before Eleazar and Carmen’s departure, included intense training, far away from Volterra, deep in the woods, where no human could interrupt us. I couldn’t say the same for vampires, but I hoped nobody would cross paths with us. Eleazar and Carmen helped me develop my self-control and self-awareness, concentrating through the deepest parts of my mind, resurfacing my shield and expanding it beyond my existence. I started to have control over it, as if it was an actual solid substance, a veil floating around me towards any direction I ordered it to go.

After Eleazar and Carmen left, I started travelling the world more, trying to copy as many powers as I could come across with, while also training my shield. My excitement for the endless possibilities was what kept me going - kind of when Aro would add another talented vampire to his Guard. His Guard. Felix. I wonder how he was. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I wondered if he thought of me like I thought of him.

After travelling pretty much anywhere I could reach, I eventually went back to where it all started: I went to Greece. Aro met Sulpicia here, apparently my mom met my dad here. Maybe I could find out, understand why they left me. I have never met them, but I felt as if my tracking skills could detect them through my own existence.

I started travelling through the country, hoping that they stayed here or, at least, that they’re alive. I spent about 2 or 3 years in Greece, trying to take in every different place, while also avoiding the battles that seemed to take place in every other corner. I was feeding off animals mainly, mostly when I couldn’t find any other human food. I was washing myself in rivers, streams, whatever I could find.

I was stopping by any village that seemed to be still standing, asking about the current situation. The Greek Revolution, which started a few years ago, seemed to still be going on. The Ottomans, who had been occupying Greece for almost 400 years, could not allow Greeks to turn against them and start claiming their rights within the Ottoman Empire.

Many Greeks I met and talked to, admitted that some of the Ottomans were actually being nice to them; it was only the Ottoman government ordering their armies to execute massive massacres against Greeks, and after all this time, a few Greeks started gathering up and planning a revolution, away from Greece, in fear of being caught. They started getting organized and finding possible allies to help them with the Revolution; they just couldn’t risk getting caught within the country that they were hoping the independent Greece could become. The battles were becoming more and more intense, both on the mainland, as well as on the islands.

I started looking for answers, anything that could suggest that my parents were still alive and somewhere in Greece. To my surprise, I crossed paths with many Greek nomad vampires all over the country. They were also fighting against either Ottoman vampires or each other for territorial claims; however, they all talked me out of travelling north, towards Macedonia. The region had started being reclaimed back by Greek humans, but vampires were also seeing the potential for the area and they fought against each other for the land.

All of the nomads I encountered were talking about some of the most vicious vampires claiming the land, their enemies being literally slaughtered and burned to set an example for other vampires to back off their territory. I was intrigued, and I knew that, most probably, I would be able to deal with them or flee before they got to me.

So, I started travelling north, through the woods and mountains, in order to avoid any possible battle between humans, though many of them seemed to hide in the mountains, preparing for their battles. Macedonia was a quite big and vast region, so I had to travel quite a few days and search every possible corner.

I know I shouldn’t have done this, but I was feeling exhausted from all the searching. I haven’t fed in quite some time, and my throat was burning by the familiar need for blood. I haven’t seen any animals all these days, and I was wondering if they were gone or hiding.

Sadly, I came across a human. He seemed to be wounded, probably during a battle, his blood gushing out of his body. I couldn’t help myself, when I breathed in the smell, the burning sensation becoming unbearable. I thought of approaching him slowly, so as not to scare him, offering to help him, but deep down I just wanted to feed off of him.

“Γειά! Συγνώμη αν σε τρόμαξα. Σε είδα από μακριά. Μπορώ να σε βοηθήσω με κάποιο τρόπο; (Hey! Sorry if I scared you. I saw you from afar. Can I help you in any way?)” I offered calmly.

The man was trying to suppress his growls. I could sense his pain. I tried to help him stand on his feet, and then I saw all of his memories. He was in the army, fighting alongside Greeks against the Ottomans, in Macedonia, just outside of Thessaloniki. I didn’t even know I was so close to a city, let alone Thessaloniki.

He was trying to pass through the woods, when he came across what seemed to be two red-eyed vampires, one male and one female. They tried to attack him, but someone else managed to shoot him first, forcing the two vampires to run away. I don’t know how or why, these two felt familiar to me, I could feel that through his memories.

“Γειά! Μπορείς.. Μπορείς να πας στο κοντινότερο χωριό; Νομίζω.. Νομίζω ότι είδα κάτι στο δάσος, δε νομίζω ότι ήταν κάτι φυσιολογικό! Πρέπει.. Πρέπει να προειδοποιήσω τους άλλους! (Hey! Can.. Can you get me to the nearest village? I think.. I think I saw something in the woods, I don’t think it was something normal! I have.. I have to warn the others!)” He mumbled in between sharp shoots of pain.

“Με συγχωρείς πολύ! (I’m really sorry!)” I plead with guilty eyes. I put my hand in his wound, searching for the bullet, while he was consumed by pain. I took the bullet out of the wound, and quickly attached my lips on his skin, sucking the blood as fast as I could, biting deeply unintentionally. His screams were becoming louder and louder, so I covered his mouth with my hand, while trying to shut him up or break his jaw. A few seconds later, he stopped screaming, and I let his lifeless body fall, completely numb and drained out of blood.

I felt renewed, his blood travelling to every part of my body and giving me a new kind of strength that I haven’t felt in a while. I still felt guilty for killing him, but he was already wounded and I couldn’t risk him exposing our kind to others. I assumed that whoever found him - if anyone found him - would also assume that he died of blood loss, so I tried to position him in a realistic pose for that purpose, as best as I could. I left him there, and continued the search for my parents.

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I was running through the woods, trying to locate the two vampires from the guy’s memories. My mind was chaotic, I wasn’t thinking about something specific. I stopped in my tracks. What Aro taught me, and what I understood from Demetri’s tracking skills, is that you have to stop, take a breath and realize your position in the world. Then, you would be able to realize everything around you and find your targets. I have successfully found other vampires like that before, vampires who I have either met in person or smelled their scent, but I didn’t know if I could find someone through someone else’s memories of them.

I took a deep breath and tried to concentrate as best as I could, focusing on the smaller details of the guy’s memories of these vampires. I felt two vampires running on my west, about 10 kilometers away, and I ran after them. They were running fast, but I was way faster. Within a minute or two, I was running right behind their tracks. They must have realized that a stranger was following them, but, instead of running, they suddenly stopped. I stopped as well, and we were now facing each other.

The female had long, brunette, curly hair, and the male short, dark brown, straight hair; both of their hair looked shiny, healthy, and rich. They were of average height and their eyes were piercing red, as if they also fed quite recently. The female was exceptionally beautiful and enchanting; I could only compare her to Heidi’s exceptional beauty. The male looked quite stoic and austere, though still beautiful.

Both of them on defensive positions, waiting for me to attack. I wasn’t planning to move any further from my position; I was only waiting for their own reactions. I felt that kind of a burning sensation within me again, like a feeling buried deep inside me, trying to find an escape.

Suddenly, the male growled at me, flames springing out of his hands, and being thrown at me. I felt my heart fall out of my chest, fearing that this would be my end. As if my body reacted on its own, I felt my own shield extending out of my body, building a wall around me and protecting me from the male’s attack. My hands started burning and flames came out, ready to counterattack the male. The male looked at the female, dumbfounded by what he witnessed, still in a defensive position, but ready to attack again.

“I’M NOT HERE TO FIGHT YOU!” I shouted at both of them. “I’M JUST SEARCHING FOR SOMEONE!”

The male shrinked back, the female following close by. “Who are you looking for? We haven’t seen you around. Who are you? Why are you here?” The male requested. His voice serious, but smooth at the same time; a voice I could only describe as the warm earth below their bare feet.

“No, I’m not. I come from Italy, though I think I was born around here. My name is (Y/N), I’m looking for my parents. I don’t quite remember what they look like, but I’m pretty sure that they lived around here. They abandoned me when I was a baby.”

“This has been our territory for almost 3 millennials! We would have known if any humans abandoned their offspring around here!” The female exclaimed, as if she didn’t believe a word I said. I didn’t want to tell them the whole story, but I had to show them that I didn’t mean to fight in any way.

“I never said they were humans. My mother was actually sort of a vampire, like you.”

The female started letting her guards down. “What do you mean sort of? I’ve never heard of a “sort of vampire” before!” She continued doubtfully.

“Believe me or don’t, my mother was born half vampire, half human. My dad wasn’t even a vampire before she met him. He wasn’t even human to be honest.” My eyes started stinging slightly. I could have had a good, happy life if they didn’t abandon me. I wouldn’t have to grow up with Aro.

“You said you were from Italy.” I nodded at the male, as he continued. “You never said where exactly.”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell them my real origin; I wouldn’t like them to know I was a Volturi, but I knew I needed help to find my parents. If they were actually here as long as they say, they might have known or met my parents at some point.

“Volterra. I was born here, in Greece, like my mother, but grew up in Volterra with my grandparents.” I looked down, kind of scared, kind of anxious, waiting for their next move.

The female gasped. “Are you a Volturi?!” I looked at her, straight in the eyes, swallowed, and nodded. “I know the Volturi. Who are your grandparents?”

“Aro and Sulpicia.” I answered so quietly that, if they weren’t vampires, they wouldn’t have heard me, my voice trembling slightly.

The female suddenly fell on her knees, the male wrapping his arms around her, comforting her. I didn’t know what was going on. Did I say something wrong? Were they scared? The sheer mention of the Volturi would scare a lot of vampires, but I thought that maybe these two seemed strong enough to deal with them.

The female started sobbing, no tears coming out of her red eyes, her body shaking. I felt something within me break. I felt that I didn’t want to upset them, that’s why I was hesitant in telling them who I really was. The male looked at me, pain in his eyes. I saw a familiar look. I saw me in his eyes, what I looked at in my mirror anytime I was thinking about my parents, or, sometimes, when I thought of Felix.

“Are you a half witch?” The male asked quietly. Something snapped in me. How would he know that?

“I swear, I didn’t do anything to your mate! I DIDN’T!” I shouted at the male. I didn’t want him to think that I would hurt his mate, or himself.

“I know you wouldn’t. It’s just..” He looked at his mate who had stopped sobbing, but was still down on her knees, unable to stand up. “..my mate is Aro and Sulpicia Volturi’s only daughter.”

My body tensed and shivered. If that woman is the only daughter Aro and Sulpicia ever had...could that mean..?

I took a few steps back. “AM I YOUR DAUGHTER? ARE YOU MY PARENTS?” I looked at them in disbelief.

Those were the people who abandoned me! That let me grow parentless, under Aro’s rules and directions! I was breathing heavily, in between sobs. I didn’t even realize that I set my whole body ablaze, until both vampires looked at me shocked. I didn’t feel any pain, but I couldn’t stop the flames licking my body, and in my frantic state, I started panicking even more.

The male started approaching me slowly, trying to not scare me away. “Shush, shush. You’re okay. You’re doing okay. I know how it feels at first. You’re experiencing some aspects of the life as a witch. It’s okay. Close your eyes and picture the flames in your head.” I closed my eyes and tried concentrating on the flames. “Now, imagine them burning out, becoming smaller and weaker.” I focused on the flames, imagining them weakening. After a few minutes, I felt them getting smaller and smaller, and finally disappearing. I opened my eyes slowly.

The female was standing next to the male, watching me carefully. In a quick motion, she pulled me and embraced me, stroking my hair lightly. I breathed in her scent, a mix of mountain flowers and the saltiness of the sea. Her touch was soft, and filled me up with what felt like a thousand different emotions.

But, I mostly felt safe. It was the first time in my life that I actually felt this safe. And whole. I felt like I actually belonged somewhere. I hugged her back. Tears started spilling from my eyes. That was my mom! That was actually my mom! After all this time, we were finally together. I felt the male, my dad, hugging both of us, and in that moment, I felt my legs giving up on me, and I finally fell into a long sleep.

[psychewithwings]

Bitter Taste: Iwaizumi x f/reader Pt. 1

pt. 2 here

THIS IS SO LATE and I’m a fuck up hahahaha (kinda ironic this was 2 weeks late for Mental Health Awareness month) 

I am crediting my girl @kuso-deku for giving me Iwaizumi brain rot to begin with. I am also crediting @gixxie and @idonotagreebitch for helping me talk through my ideas... and crediting @doinmybesthere for the wonderful idea of a mental health awareness collaboration the link is here. PLS READ THE REST OF THE WORKS. Everyone deserves the love.

TW: manipulative male/female relationships, gaslighting?, subtle shit head crap that most men do (don’t worry Iwa is a peach as always tho, it’s Ushijima that’s the problem)

_ 

Iwaizumi stands and stretches in the cinema. The movie had been good, but long, he figured it was a little after midnight. “What’d ya think?” Kuroo asks as they exit the theatre. “I hated the ending…” Oikawa gripes, “I hate endings where everyone just dies.” “You are such a princess Tooru, I swear, it’s a metaphorical ending… did you not catch all the symbolism in the opening credits?” Iwaizumi sighs and turns his phone back on, trying his best to ignore their bickering. Slowly, notification after notification pops up… all from you. He blinks, surprised. You had declined his offer to join him for the film, stating you had previous plans attending a close friend’s birthday.

Iwa opens the messages from you. He sees first the selfies. You look beautiful, extravagant even. Your dress is beautiful, it compliments your figure perfectly with the corseted bodice. It’s white and so is your lace mask. Broad, feathered angel wings rest on your back. Angelic would have been a word he’d used to describe you before, but now, it was confirmed. He wants to keep staring at the photos but Kuroo and Oikawa are starting to become too curious about the contents of his phone. He scrolls and relaxes his face to look more casual. But it’s hard when your intoxicated messages are so darn cute.    

hope the movie is good!

okay so I guess there’s an open bar? Is it my birthday too?

if you wanna come by after the movie I’msure you coul

this partyyyy suckssssssss assssssssss

wish id gon wiht u xx

You are clearly drunk and he laughs to himself before Kuroo peers over his right shoulder. “Well she’s thinking about you at least,” he smirks. Oikawa peers over Iwaizumi’s left shoulder, “ooo play the voice message.” Oikawa taps the message before Iwaizumi can give him an answer.

“Hiiiii Iwaaaaaa, hope you like the moovie and you’re having a good time, cuz I’m having a preetyy good time, they gots free margaritaaass. Okay byeeeee”

The guys laugh and Oikawa presses the next one.

“Hey Iwaaa, I made up a song about you, ready?

Iwaizumi

Doesn’t know what he does- to me…

Sshfhsijknfhahaha I cant remember the rest som’n bout… som’n I dunno. Byeee”

“Okay, Ushi says that I need to say sorry for sending so many…” you pause and then whisper, “drunk messages, but I’as only tellin’ ya I ssink ‘r awesome ‘n you should totally come to this party and hang out with me… you’re awesome, okay byeee”

Oikawa and Kuroo pause and look at Iwaizumi. “Ushi?” Oikawa asks, “like Ushiwaka?” Oikawa’s eyes are narrowed and he gags dramatically in disgust. Iwaizumi nods and walks to exit the theatre. “Wait… that’s her friend who’s having the birthday party?” Iwa grimaces as Kuroo chuckles. “No wonder you’ve had a stick up your ass all night.” Iwa glares at him, “they’re just friends… apparently… I don’t know, she said they’ve known each other for a really long time…” Kuroo claps Iwaizumi on the back. “I think you should definitely go to the party.” Iwaizumi starts to object but the ring of his phone draws attention, and he answers it. “Heyyy you're outta th’moviee, heheeheheha,” you slur. Iwaizumi laughs softly and smiles, “yeah, I’m out of the movie now, are you… good?” There is so much background noise, it almost drowns out your sweet sleepy voice. “I’m soooo good… … I just-” he can hear your voice drop to a drunken whisper. “I’z just hoping to see you today,” you mumble finally.  

Iwaizumi can feel his heartbeat quicken, his head reeling. “Oh really?” He plays cool but then instantly regrets it when you give him a serious answer. “Yeah, I was really hoping you’d come to the party, even for just a little,” you murmur. Iwaizumi can’t help but chuckle. You were pretty cute like this, not normally so transparent. You were actually quite hard to read, so sweet but guarded and teasing too. You were a friend of Oikawa’s first and he had met you through him. He’d liked the way you sat cross legged on the couch smiling, chin in your hands while you asked questions and listened to his answers. Your eyes sparkle when you hear something you like, and your face lights up when you talk about things you find interesting.

“Ya don’t have to, I can just see ya another time,” you add. He’s been silent too long which causes him to speak without thinking. “No, I’d love to see you, I’ll head to you now.” Kuroo and Oikawa are silently cheering him on and Iwa turns away in embarrassment. “Really? Okay! I’ll drop my pin… as the kids are sayin’ these days hahaha.” “See you soon, drink some water okay?” “Mhm, I will, see ya soon!”

You were at a club owned by Ushijima’s family. A place called ‘Eagle’s Nest’. He’d only known you for a few weeks but he couldn’t help his infatuation. It was immediate, the night he had gone to Oikawas for game night. You spoke to him so easily not knowing him at all and laughed at his little side jabs to his long time friend. The way you looked at him… Iwa knew then that he wanted to see you smile, hear your laugh, and that he would be happy to assume the responsibility of making that happen.

He was surprised when you had declined his offer for the movie, feeling that you both had some definite chemistry, but Iwaizumi was even more surprised when you had said that you had prior plans with his old time rival Ushijima Wakatoshi. Iwaizumi hadn’t seen him since high school but they knew a few people in common, Oikawa being one of those people. Oikawa could sure hold a grudge but Iwaizumi took all of his comments with a grain of salt. Ushijima often came off entitled and cold, which would leave Iwaizumi with a bad taste in his mouth. Maybe Oikawa had the right idea holding a grudge… But grudge or not he wanted to see you, hear your voice and admire you all dolled up.

When Iwaizumi arrives at the club he is met with a large security guard. “Invitation?” he grumbles. Iwa remains calm but a small trickle of fear runs down his back. Iwaizumi gives the guard a casual smile before he starts to answer but he is interrupted. “Iwaaaaa,” you cry from the top of the stairs. The mask you’d had on is now resting on top of your head, the delicate features of your face now exposed. The floofy skirt of your dress bounces with your excitement as you run down the stairs. You crash into him, throwing your arms around his neck. You bury your face in his collar and still momentarily. Drunk and bubbly, you melt when Iwa wraps his arms around your waist in return, avoiding your costume’s wings. “Mmmm,” you hum, breath hot against his skin, “you smell good.” You pull back and stare into his wide eyes. “You look incredible,” he offers, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. You grin in return and simply take hold of his hand. “He’s with me,�� you beam at the guard. Iwaizumi is doubtful this trick will work here. But he is surprised when the guard steps aside saying, “as you wish Miss L/N.” You giggle and pull Iwa towards the doors. “I’ll bring you some cake later, okay Jurou?” Jurou laughs, “just have fun darlin’.” “You’re the best,” you call behind you as you push open the doors. Iwaizumi can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy knowing that you are on a first name basis with one of the body guards at the Wakatoshi’s club. How close were you with Ushijima?    

Blue and purple lights illuminate the vast space while black tiles make up the main floor. The dance floor is sunken, in the middle of the club with a small set of stairs leading down to it. It’s made entirely of glass, beneath is a saltwater garden of different plants and coral.  

“You’ll need one of these,” you explain, swiping a simple black mask from the welcome table. You hand it over to him and pull yours down over your eyes. Iwaizumi adjusts it to where he can see. “You look so handsome,” you admire. He grins, “what about you? You’ve got wings!” You laugh and adjust your mask back on top of your forehead. “I’m a swan, and Ushi said I couldn’t be a swan without wings!” You spin for him, trying your best to flap the feathered wings. Small pieces of confetti glitter rain from the skirt of your dress. Iwaizumi takes in your face illuminated by the lights of the club. Blue and pink dancing over your cheeks as you smile up at him. “What?” you giggle nervously. Just a few weeks but he is mesmerised by your everything. He shakes his head and tries to move on. He wanted to tell you how he felt but this wasn’t the right time. It should be when you’re sober, when you can take in his words properly.

You coax him down towards the bar.  “You’re sure it’s okay to sneak in uninvited guests?” Iwa questions. “Well, I asked Ushi ‘nd he said it was okay, so yeah!” You grin but notice Iwaizumi’s reserve. “It’s really okay, I promise, let’s just get a drink,” you suggest and take his hand. “Only if you drink more water,” he smirks. You roll your eyes at Iwa, “I drank some water before you got here actually.” You look back at him as you both head down to the bar. “I’ll prolly regret that yurr seeing me like this tamorow, ya know,” you call over the blaring music. “It’s cute, you’re cute,” he assures as he leans against the bar, “I didn’t know you thought about me this much until I saw all the snapchats and voice messages and texts.” You cover your face in humiliation, “I knowww, I’m sorry but you were on my mind a lot, alot alot, and  couldn’t stop think about ya, and the booze told me to keep on messaging…” You trail off,  finding the last shred of your filter to keep you from talking.  The bartender hands you your water and you take a long drink.

“Iwaizumi,” a voice projects over the baseline. Ushijima stands tall advancing towards where you both stand. His expression is neutral though, his eyes keep darting to you and then back to Iwaizumi. Ushijima is dressed as a knight, his silver mask hangs languidly around his neck. “Ushiwaka,” Iwa acknowledges, “this is a hell of a birthday party.” You giggle and point at Ushiwaka, “he’s 28 today; getting sooo old.” In that moment, Iwaizumi watches him do something he had never seen him do before. Smile… and then laugh. Ushijima wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer.  “You’re just a baby,  you’re only-” You wave your hand in front of Ushiwaka’s face, shushing him. “No, no, Iwa doesn’t knowww, don’t tell him,” you plead. “She’s only 23,” Ushiwaka says. You hold your face in your hands once more and groan. Ushijima pulls your hands from your face, “just barely twenty three too.” You glare at him and look back at Iwaizumi embarrassed.  “Did she not tell you her age?” Ushijima asks Iwaizumi. Iwa shrugs, “She didn’t, but I never asked,” Iwa shrugs casually, addressing you now, “didn’t seem important since you carry yourself so well.”

You turn to Iwa, mouth open like you’re about to respond but Ushijima swipes the glass from your hands before you can finish. “Drinking water?” You look up at him. “But it’s my birthday… and this is a party…  you need something stronger…” Ushijima beacons the bartender with a single flick of his hand. The barman pours three double shots of a clear liquid from a foreign looking bottle. Ushijima takes a glass and hands it to you, before handing another to Iwaizumi. Ushijima gives him a wink as he loops his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He raises his glass, the violet lights illuminating the liquid. Iwaizumi follows his lead. “To my Juliet, the belle of the ball,” Ushijima bellows. You smile slightly and shake your head. “No no, to you Ushi, it’s your birthday, not mine, we are celebrating you!” Your eyes find Iwa’s, but you leave your glass raised. Ushijima grabs hold of your hand that’s still wrapped around the glass. “Cheers,” He tips the glass towards your lips and you swallow the clear liquor as he feeds it to you. You down it all in one go and Ushiwaka smiles wide once again. “She’s good, huh?” With that, Ushiwaka clinks his glass to Iwaizumi’s, “to you brother,” he assures. Iwa is surprised with the sudden sentiment. “And to you,” he replies before downing the shot. The liquor is surprisingly smooth, expensive, and strong. Iwa can feel his head starting to get light from the small portion that was in the glass and Iwa wasn’t a light weight. “Strong huh?” Ushijima smirks. Iwaizumi nods then turns to the bartender to signal for a water.

Ushijima turns to where you stand swaying slightly with the music. “Look at her, she gets drunk so easily,” Ushijima smiles. “How are you feeling, princess?” he shouts over at you. Iwa turns away and downs his water in disgust. ‘Princess?’ Ushijima shouldn’t be calling you that if you’re both just friends. You blink and give him a smile and a thumbs up. There was a natural innocence about you, a childlike wonder and curiosity, the embodiment of sanguine. Ushijima’s air was sometimes sinister, like he was taking advantage of your natural trusting nature. Iwa watches as Ushijima’s large hands rest on either of your shoulders and he pushes you back and forth like a pendulum between his palms. You giggle and try to push him away, “Ushi stooopp.” He laughs with you and continues pushing you around, “you’re so cute and small though, see?” He places a hand on top of your head and you still. “I said to stop,” you mumble. “And I did,” he retorts before letting you go.

Iwa watches the sudden weight of gravity find you as you stumble in your heels. He catches your arm just in time. Your arms find their way around his neck once more, your face in the crook of his neck. You pull away and Iwa examines your foggy eyes. “You okay?” You nod, pushing off of Iwa’s chest. You fix your hair, “it’s fine, he just messin’” you turn to Ushijima, “and someone doesn’t know when to quit.” You’re pulled away into Ushiwaka’s arms. He sways you back and forth, your back held against his chest while he says soft apologies. He whispers something to you and you nod. Iwaizumi wanted to pull you away from him. Not because he was jealous, but because the way that Ushiwaka was behaving with you was odd.

“Y/n is a little bit tired, why don’t you join us in VIP?” Iwa smiles and gives his thanks, trying his best to hide his scowl. Iwa follows after you and Ushiwaka, upstairs and under velvet ropes hoping that he will find a good moment to pull you away. But instead you are pulled onto the couch beside Ushiwaka. He lights a cigar and offers one to Iwa, but Iwaizumi declines with a simple, “no thanks, don’t smoke.” It’s strange the way that Ushiwaka keeps whispering in your ear, giving you sips of his drinks, and blowing smoke in your face. “Ushi, stop please, the smell is making me sick,” you whine. But he just pulls you closer to him, chuckling all the while and does it again. You’re laughing and poking his face, but it’s not out of joy... Watching Ushijima interact with you the whole night has been like watching a cat toy with a mouse.

Iwa grimaces when Ushiwaka tickles you. “Stop-stop-don’t-stop,” you giggle and howl. “She said to stop!” Iwa raises his voice. Ushijima’s eyes shoot towards Iwaizumi while you squirm off the couch. Your eyes are heavy as you walk towards a dark hallway and disappear into the shadows. Iwa’s eyes flick to the entrance to the hall. Ushiwaka sits in a contented silence, sipping a drink, “she’s so dramatic,” he sighs. He continues smoking, arm rested over the back of the purple velvet sofa. Ushijima takes a sip of his drink, swirling the ice in his glass. Iwa doesn’t move to break the silence no matter how expectant Ushijima’s expression was. He stamps out his cigar in the tray before addressing him.

“She’s awfully talkative, and incredibly fond of you…” Ushijima starts, an odd smirk painting his expression. Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow in intrigue and Ushijima’s face hardens. “She won’t shut up about you since she met you… it’s annoying...” Iwaizumi, remains quiet, the silence settling over the men like a thick fog. The only sounds are muffled club music and the ice tinkling against Ushijima’s glass. “I’m going to be honest as a friend… bad idea.” Iwaizumi can feel the rage bubbling inside his gut, “I don’t think that what’s going on between us is any of your-” He’s cut off by Ushijima.

“I’m really looking out for you Iwaizumi, girls can break hearts and Y/n is kind of known for that… she’s just a sweet soul, makes friends easily, but love? That’s harder for her… doesn’t have the best taste in men I’m afraid, I want to protect her and you from a situation where I can already see the conclusion… I get that you like her, everyone does.”  Iwazumi leans forward, “does that include you?” Ushijima is stone faced, then gives a cold laugh. “You’re funnier than I remember, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi rises and heads towards the hall you disappeared down. If he sat in front of him any longer he was going to say something he regretted… and you still haven’t come back. He slips into the dark hallway as you’re exiting the bathroom. Your mask has been removed and even in the dim lighting you look pale. “Hey, what’s happened?” You look up at him embarrassed, your dress almost as wilted as you are. “Got sick…” you mutter. You’re shaking slightly, arms wrapped around yourself. “Oh Y/n, are you alright?” he sighs. His arm starts to reach for you but he thinks better of it, pulling it back to rest by his side. His eyes widen as he feels the warmth of your hand in his. He didn’t figure that you would want to be touched right now. But your fingers interlace with his,  your skin soft. “Are you good to drive?” you whisper. His hand instinctively tightens around yours protectively. “I only had whatever Ushijima gave us, it was strong but I’ve had water- yeah I’m good.” “Would you mind taking me home?” you ask, as you start to walk back towards the VIP room. “Sure, course,” Iwaizumi replies gently. He feels how your thumb brushes over the back of his hand in silent gratitude. The gesture has his heart beating hard against his ribs. Iwa walks forward, his eyes on you and nothing else. Your brow is furrowed and your expression painted serious which was unusual from how he knew you to act.

“Iwa’s taking me home now,” you announce and walk towards the stairs. Ushiwaka’s face hardens, “I can take her home, you shouldn’t trouble yourself,” he addresses Iwaizumi. You smile and turn around facing Ushiwaka. “But Ushi, ‘s ur birthday, you can’t leave this party jus’ ‘a take me home,” You turn to Iwa now. “Let’s go,” you say and Iwa nods, still holding your hand.  “Where’s my hug, princess?” Ushijima calls after you. You stop in your tracks and close your eyes, taking in a deep breath. You drop Iwa’s hand slowly, hesitantly. You walk back slowly and stand before his open arms. He lifts you and you groan. You’re still hugging him tightly but not quite with the same intimacy as before.

As Ushijima places you down you turn to look back at Iwa when Ushijima catches your face with his large hand. He coaxes your face back towards him then leans down. Ushiwaka locks eyes with Iwaizumi as he whispers something in your ear. Then he presses his lips to your cheek, still not moving his eyes away from Iwaizumi’s. Iwa tries his best to remain neutral but he can feel his lip creeping upwards in contempt. Ushiwaka is too prideful for his own good it seems.

You take Iwa’s hand again, leading him towards the exit. An exasperated look rests on your face. “What did he say to you?” Iwa asks. You sigh and shake your head. “‘S nothin’,  ya shouldn’t worry your pretty lil head ‘bout it.” Iwa can’t help but allow a smile. He raises an eyebrow at you, “think my head is pretty?” he asks. He’s met with your hazy gaze, “I do,” you say simply. Iwa wasn’t prepared for such a straightforward answer to his question.

Once out of the club, the valet pull Iwaizumi’s car around. He’s careful not to let you walk too far on your own. Sick, in those ridiculous shoes and still quite drunk, he opens the car door for you before hopping into the driver's seat. “Will you put your address in?” Iwa hands you his phone and you type it in as asked. “Thanks for doing this,” you sigh. “Yeah of course,” he says as he puts the car into gear. A few streets of city light pass by in silence. Your hands are resting in your lap but your body is still trembling. “I can- umm- pull over if you need me to…” You wave the thought away with your hand, “it was the smell of the cigar more than anything…” Iwa’s gut begins to boil again. Your voice is soft, almost defeated. He speaks before thinking better of it. “Does he always treat you like that?” You look at Iwa and make eye contact briefly before his attention is back on the road. “He was being a little extra weird today, maybe because y’all used to play volleyball together or… I dunno really, he just gets like that sometimes…” You trail off, allowing your thoughts to fade into the rearview. The silence is deafening and you feel the need to break it. “He’s really nice too though, don’t get me wrong, he cooks for me and calls to check in, he even gets me little gifts, so I know he cares.” Iwa shakes his head, “if he cared he would have stopped when you asked him to.” You take a breath, “I know but he was just having a night I guess…” Iwa pulls into your driveway as the GPS notifies him that he has ‘arrived at the destination’. He puts the car in park, “you don’t have to make excuses for him… it’s okay to be angry, if that’s how you feel.” You start to open the door, your fingers on the handle. “I’m not angry though, I’m just kinda hurt.” You open the door and start to get out, “okay, maybe a little angry too.” You laugh to yourself but not out of joy. It’s an ironic laugh and Iwa can hear the pain ringing inside of it. “Let me walk you inside.”  

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

so hi, this ask might be worded bad because it's late and i'm tired but. my parents were constantly fighting. my dad was very physically abusive to my mom, i can't remember any of my childhood except for small snippets. and i still have to live with my mom, who i think is emotionally abusive. sometimes i wish i was old enough to move out already (i almost am, just a bit longer thankfully) because i can't stand being around her and then other times she'll do something nice and i'll feel guilty and wonder if maybe it's not that bad and i'm just blowing fights out of proportion. she's told me she wishes i was never born and has told me to go die two times, and that her life was so much better before i was born. but then she'll tell me she loves me and that she doesn't mean any of it. she used to hit me but hasn't done so in months. i'm also autistic and have to mask my symptoms constantly or else she'll get mad, and i'm also schizophrenic and she says my hallucinations "scare" her and she's started calling me crazy. she'll start fights and then say it's my fault. but she's not like this most of the time and i just don't know what to think anymore. do you have any advice? is my mom abusive?

Hey anon,

I'm so sorry you're going through this. What you've described sounds awful, and I promise you that none of it is your fault. You deserve better than this and I'm so sorry you aren't getting it.

Based off your description, I would agree; I definitely think your mom is emotionally abusive. She's put you in a position where you need to hide the symptoms of your neurodivergence--a lot of abuse survivors felt like they were "walking on eggshells" around their abuser in order to keep the peace, so to speak, and this sounds a lot like that to me. No one should be put in that position; it's horrible and ableist and you don't deserve any of it. She's also gaslighting you by blaming you for fights she started and by telling you she doesn't mean anything she's said--even if she truly doesn't mean what she's told you, she's still saying it, and explaining that she doesn't mean it doesn't detract from that. It's manipulative and awful and she needs to work on not saying what she does in the first place, not promising you she didn't mean it after the fact.

I think the clearest sign that your mother is abusive to me is the fact that you think she might be. Abuse victims, as a general rule, don't want to believe that they have been or are being abused, especially by the people they love--this is part of the reason why so many people will make excuses for their abusers or will overlook harmful behaviors. If there's enough of these behaviors that you think it might be abuse, therefore, it's quite likely that it is (this isn't true in every case, but I strongly believe it is in this one).

It's important that you remember people can be abusive and still do nice things from time to time; it might be because they feel some (I'd assume temporary) remorse for their actions, because they genuinely do love their victim, or for any other reason. This doesn't change the fact that they're abusive, and it doesn't change what they've done to you in the past. If your brain is anything like mine, knowing this won't change the fact that you still question it, but it's still incredibly important to remember.

It sounds like your best course of action is to wait until you can move away from your mother. For now, a good option might be therapy--if your mother won't let you, it might be a good idea to hint that it would help with your schizophrenia. I hate to suggest that, but it seems like what would be most likely to get her to allow you to go, and ultimately that's what's the most important. You might also consider keeping a journal where you can write about what your mother does to you--that way, you'll have proof when you're questioning your abuse, as well as a way to express it.

I really hope this helps, anon. Please feel free to send in another ask if there's anything else we can do for you; we want to be here for you.

Stay safe,

Mod Henrie

[mypoisonedvine]

Sessions with August | August Walker x Reader -- Chapter 1

This is something I’ve been working on for a while with my bestie @nuns-and-roses​!  We will be posting some future chapters from her blog so give her a follow for more of this (and also lots of amazing fics).

Summary: As a CIA psychiatrist, most of your clients are aggressive, intimidating, maybe even a little threatening.  But none of them are quite like August Walker.  You were trained to trust your gut and remove yourself from any situation that made you uncomfortable.  If you had followed that training, maybe you could’ve saved yourself from the twisted world he planned to bring you into…

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions/descriptions of childhood abuse; no smut in this chapter but there will be eventual non-con/heavy dub con and lots of dark themes like manipulation, gaslighting, stalking, etc.  Discretion is advised.

Session 1 - October 9th 

You only had five minutes between sessions each day, and it was a very important time.  As a psychiatrist seeing patients, there is limited time to oneself.  Your patients become a part of you, and you assume an identity at work that often follows you home.

Reserved, kind, patient.  Every single word, every movement, was an act.  And it's not that you were really lying or manipulating your patients, it's just that you had to close off most of yourself to them.  It was how both of you were protected.

In five minutes, you had time to step out of that persona while you sorted your files and grabbed a quick snack.  You contemplated between a granola bar or clementine, eventually choosing the latter, though you had to wash your hands to get off the sticky residue of the acidic peel.

As you washed your hands, you contemplated yourself in the mirror.  You had put a lot of thought into your look for this persona.  To save time and energy, you wore the same thing every day: your closet was all black pencil skirts, white button-downs and black blazers, with only a little space for your off-work clothing (which never got much use).  In winter you added thick stockings to keep from freezing during the walk to and from your car, but otherwise it remained the same.  Even the jewelry-- freshwater pearl studs and a dainty gold tennis bracelet-- remained the same, along with your beloved pair of Italian leather heels which weren't so high that you felt overdressed, but just high enough that you felt taller, and perhaps a bit sexy though you knew that shouldn't matter.

The goal was to look neutral, to not have your appearance distract in any way.  To blend in.  It had actually been sort of difficult to perfect one makeup look that you could put on quickly before work, but you'd managed.  Your hair was probably what you spent the most time on each morning, since it had to be pulled back pretty tight and you wanted every single hair to be in place.

Checking the clock, you saw that it was about time to call in your next appointment.  It was a new patient, a somewhat recent recruit that had already garnered a bit of a reputation.  From what you'd heard he was incredibly ambitious to the point of being a bit cutthroat.  What the rumors had failed to mention, you realized as you opened the door to guide him in from the waiting room, was that he was hot.  And not just "hey, good for you!" hot, but "how am I expected to get any work done in these conditions?!" hot.  You introduced yourself with a firm handshake and tried not to think about the size of his hands or the strength of his grip.

"Mr. Walker, please, have a seat," you encouraged, motioning to the room.

"Which one?" he asked, noticing the menagerie of chairs and sofas in your office.

"Ah, yes, this may be strange if you're used to a more... clinical space," you nodded.  "Sit wherever you'd like.  Whatever looks most comfortable to you."

He examined his options and seemed to be putting more thought to it than most did.

"This is a test, isn't it?  You want to see what kind of person I am by what I pick?" 

You laughed.  "No, I just want you to have options."

He settled for a high back chair which normally made people look kind of short but his body barely fit into it.  He made it look like a toy chair for a child.

"Is that your final answer?" you asked with a smile.

"I knew it was a test," he frowned.

"It's really not," you laughed, "I just want you to be comfortable."

"Tell me what it says about me.  What do you know because I picked this chair?" he demanded, apparently not believing you that it wasn't a test.

"What do you think it says about you?" you asked instead.

He thought about that for a second.  "I guess I'm probably more… structured than the guy who picks the bean bag.  More formal."

You nodded. "That makes sense."

"Who picks the bean bag anyway?" he smirked.

"Almost no one picks the bean bag."

He smiled, and it looked a little rehearsed.  But it was only the first day, so maybe he would open up over time.

“What are we supposed to do in here?” he asked, looking around as if he was expecting something he could see to explain therapy: did he think you were going to give him shocks or something?

“Well, that’s sort of up to you, Mr. Walker.  The goal of these sessions is really just for you to have time each week that you can spend however you’d like.”

“Really?  I could just come in here and read a book or whatever?”

“Yes, although I can’t promise you that would be the best use of your time.”

“Could I clean my gun?” he pressed.

You tried not to have a strong reaction.  Then again, that could describe a lot of your sessions.  “I personally would prefer that you didn’t, to be honest.” He smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of guns.”

“No, I’m not,” you answered honestly, “but I think it’s better for you if this time feels distinct from your work.  I know that can be difficult since this is happening through your work and is being funded by your work and we work in different wings of the same building…”

“I don’t need time away from my job.  I love my job.” “I’m glad to hear that.  I love my job, too, but I would have to say that it is important to my health that I get some time separate from that.”

“Your job is way worse than mine,” he grinned.

“Really?” you smiled back. “A lot of people would say my job is easy.”

“Listening to these crazies bitch all day?  I’d lose my mind,” he chuckled.

“Who said I hadn’t lost mine?” you smirked.

//

Session 2 - October 16th

“You’re wearing the same thing as last time,” he noticed instantly.  It usually took a few sessions for someone to notice.  Had he really spent so much time looking at you that he remembered what you’d worn?

“Yes, I am,” you agreed.

“Lucky coincidence?” he asked.

“No, I actually wear the same clothes every day,” you corrected.  He gave you a confused look.  “It saves me time in the morning.”

“That’s it?  You wear the same outfit every single day, just to save time in the morning?”

You looked to the ground, questioning how honest you should get.  But how could you expect him to be honest with you if you couldn’t open up in this one little way?

“Clothing is a form of self-expression, and these sessions aren’t about expressing my self,” you explained.  “I’d hate for my clothing choices to become a distraction.”

He looked you up and down and you felt more observed than you preferred to be. 

“What you’re wearing now is plenty distracting on its own,” he said darkly.

You shifted in your seat.  You felt very observed, more than you preferred to be.

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” you awkwardly replied.

“Don’t be sorry,” he shrugged.

“What… what were we talking about before?” you asked awkwardly.  

//

Session 3 - October 23rd

“Good afternoon,” you smiled, extending your hand for a handshake.  Why did you feel a little awkward when he shook your hand in return?  “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright, thanks for asking,” he smiled.  “How about you?”

“Well, thank you,” you answered warmly, taking your seat.  “So, what do you want to talk about today?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged.

“Well, it’s up to you to guide the discussion wherever you want it to go.”

“What do the superiors think we should be talking about?” he asked, sounding a little incredulous.

“Do you think I get notes from your managers on what to discuss with you?”

“I… sort of assumed,” he admitted.

“I don’t.  This is your time.  Use it however you’d like.”

The way he looked at you made you wonder if he was going to take that a little too seriously.

“I guess you want me to talk about my traumatic childhood or something?” 

“Well, if you’d like to…”

August looked at where his shoe was propped over his other knee, bouncing it as if he was nervous.

“It’s only our second session,” you dismissed.

“Right, right,” he responded, sounding like he was deep in thought.  “I don’t want to burden you…”

“Burden?  August, never worry about that.  It’s my job.  I’m here to help you.”

He looked up at you again, something broken and hollow in his expression.  “It’s… upsetting.”

“Try me.”

He took a shaky breath, rubbing his hands together.  You furrowed your brow at the complete 180 in his body language. 

“Well,” he began slowly, “I always knew something was wrong when I was a kid.  I knew that that wasn’t how things were supposed to be, even if it was the only thing I’d ever known.”

He narrowed his eyes like he was thinking, then glanced over to the window.

“I knew there wasn’t supposed to be blood on the walls,” he recalled with a shockingly-neutral expression, “I knew there was something wrong…”

You nodded but said nothing, wanting to let him finish this train of thought before you contributed.

“My mother…” he continued, his voice getting darker, “she was troubled, I suppose.  She hated me.  I don’t know what I did that made her hate me so much.  She was good at putting on a face for other people, hiding my cuts and bruises so people wouldn’t ask questions.  But in those days, no one was really asking questions anyway.  Children were property, and women were always doing right by their children no matter what they did.”

You waited for the silence to steep for a while before you commented.  “That sounds… terrible,” you replied quietly, “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” he responded with a curt nod.

“Where was your father in all this?”

“Who knows?”

“He wasn’t in the picture,” you presumed.

“No, he lived with us.  He just… wasn’t there.  I guess he didn’t see anything wrong with it.  She always had dinner ready on the table when he got home, and past that, he barely even acknowledged my existence.  I guess he trusted her to raise me.  I tried to tell him a few times, but he just told me to respect my mother.  He just wanted me to leave him alone.”

“Do you have any memories of time alone with your father?”

“No,” he said like he was realizing it for the first time.  “No, I don’t think I was ever alone with my father.”

You decided to let that one sit, hoping to let him continue without you prompting him.

“Every day was hell with her,” he finally added after a moment.  “It was always something.  No matter what I did, I had always done something wrong.  She didn’t always beat me… sometimes she would burn spices and blow the smoke in my face.  Sometimes she would make me kneel on uncooked rice.  Mostly it was just beatings, though.  I lost a lot of my teeth early because of it.  And I’m still deaf in this ear,” he explained, motioning to his left ear.

“Wow,” you whispered.  “Did no one ever stick up for you?  Nobody ever questioned your injuries, like a doctor, maybe?”

“I didn’t see a doctor until I was an adult,” he laughed coldly.  “She didn’t believe in that.  She thought it was all part of the mind, I think-- that every health problem was just an outward reflection of all my inner faults.  Thankfully, I never came down with anything too serious.  She was always able to nurse me back to health, even when I got what I realize now was almost certainly pneumonia.”

“Was she more caring when you were ill?”

“Not exactly a warm-and-fuzzy type, but yes, she was gentler.  She didn’t beat me until I was well again.”

“How generous,” you groaned with an eyeroll.

“I know, but you learn to appreciate the little things,” he explained. “You must have clung to any affection from adults that you could,” you offered.

“Yes, I did.”

“That seems like a reasonable response.”

“Yes…” he repeated, something darker crossing his tone, “but it can be dangerous, chasing down affection…”

You shuddered a little, but suppressed it.  You wanted to explore that statement more, but a glance at the clock revealed you didn’t have even close to enough time to dig into it.  

“Sounds like something we can pick up with next week,” you said lightly.

“Oh, is it already time?”

“Getting close to it,” you nodded.  “I don’t want to cut you off or anything.  This has been really productive.  I feel like I’m getting to know you better.”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “ditto.”

“And before we wrap up, I just want to say a few things, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, go ahead.”

“First, thank you for sharing this with me.”  

He nodded in acknowledgement.

“Second, I want to tell you that you didn’t do anything to make your mother hurt you like that.  There’s nothing you could’ve done to justify that… you were a child.  You were her child.  She was supposed to take care of you, and she didn’t.  And it wasn’t because you did something wrong, but simply because there are awful, evil, sick people in this world who do terrible things to innocent people.”

He looked taken aback by that.  “Nobody’s innocent.”

That wasn’t the response you expected.  Most people hear “it’s not your fault” and brush it away, say that they know that even if they don’t, say that they’ve heard it all before.  Had August not heard this before?  Was this the first time someone was responding this way?  Worse, was this the first time he’d told someone at all?

“August, you were a child.  You were innocent.”

He nodded, but didn’t seem super convinced.

“And, lastly,” you finished with a sigh, “does this time next week work for you?”

//

Sometimes, you just have that itch in your brain, and you need to scratch it.  On your way to your car from your office, you found yourself taking a detour to the records office, and leaning on the desk of the receptionist there.

“Good evening, Melissa,” you greeted.

“Oh, hey!” she smiled back from behind her computer.  “What’s up?”

“Could you get me anything you have on August Walker?”

“You should be able to access that already--”

“No, that’s just from his time in Operations.  He used to work in Support.”

“Really?”

“Um, yeah.  Can you… get me that file?”

“Yeah, sure.  ...Looks like he had another psychiatrist then, too.  I think they had a mandated intake interview back then.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’ve got some tapes here.”

You laughed a little when she actually handed you literal cassettes.  “Oh, you mean tapes.  I assumed it was digital.”

“Not this far back.”

You slipped the tape into your car’s tape player on your drive home.  Perks of having a shitty old car.

So, tell me, August, the calm male voice of the retired Dr. Newbury began, what inspires your interest in the CIA?  

I have a talent.  I want it to get some use.

What do you mean when you say ‘talent’?

I can do things other people can’t.  And I don’t mean physically, although I suppose that’s true, too.  What I mean is, I can tolerate things other people can’t.  I can survive things other people can’t.  There’s something about people that makes them… sensitive.  Reactive.  I don’t think I have that.  I don’t feel things the way other people do.

And you don’t see that as a weakness?

I think I did, once.  But I realize now that it’s my greatest strength.  I have a sense of… peace, that most people can only dream of.  

Peace?  Is that something that’s important to you?

Isn’t it important to everyone?

That’s fair.  Where do you think that sense of peace comes from?

Is it time to dig into my childhood, Doc?

You shivered at how similar it sounded to his own discussion with you, even when he was clearly so much younger.

I suppose.

Are you one of those people who thinks peace can only come from suffering?

Let’s not talk about me.

Well, I think that suffering is overrated.  My childhood, since you’re dying to know, was fine.  Simple.  Something in me is… missing, maybe, but it wasn’t stolen.  My mom was sweet-- the kind of person who would bake a pie and leave it in the windowsill to cool.  Always at social functions, always showing me off.  

And your father?

Quiet.  Stern, never cruel.  I mean, he would discipline me when I did something wrong-- but that’s not cruelty, that’s love, isn’t it?

You could say that.

Then sure, my father loved me.

Is that the only way your father loved you?  Through discipline?

Is there any other way?

You stopped the tape but what you had heard echoed in your mind.  There was something about this story that you hadn’t gotten out of what he had told you.  That undefinable, inscrutable element that could only be described as the truth.  Of course you had questioned his story at the time, but you had been told to believe people when they were confessing something so serious, even as some covert sense told you that something was wrong.

You pulled over and grabbed a paper file from the seat next to you.  

“Of course,” you mumbled aloud to yourself, “of course something was wrong…”

You flipped to his physical examination results from his first intake.  He was just 19 then, a few weeks before the interview you had just listened to.

Perfect hearing in both ears.  20/20 vision.  Flawless dental impressions-- due mainly to 7 years of corrective braces staggered throughout his childhood.

You felt sick-- actually, physically sick.  As much as you had anticipated that there was something off with his original story, you hadn’t prepared for such a significant fabrication.  You still didn’t understand why he had lied to you… or what more you would learn had been simply a story.

[babbushka]

Mind & Soul (5/10)

The story of how one man fell out of love and into it again

Charlie (Marriage Story) x Reader

6.8k; warnings for angst, marital affairs/cheating, nsfw content 

Tumblr masterlist for previous chapters // Available on AO3

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

Lately, I find myself out gazing at stars

Hearing guitars like someone in love

Sometimes the things I do astound me

Mostly whenever you're around me

 Charlie used to love flying, before all this. He used to get such a thrill from the way his stomach would swoop as the plane would take off, would look out the window and marvel at how the Earth seemed so far away, so small. Buildings and cars and people no bigger than ants, while he sat in a great metal bird in the sky.

He doesn’t bother to open the shade now, exhausted of flying, exhausted from all the travel.

But Henry pushes the shade up, because Henry has the window seat, and now it’s his turn to stare with wide-eyed amazement at the way the world comes back into view from behind a thick blanket of clouds. Henry presses his face to the window, and when he looks up at Charlie with a big smile around a mouthful of chewing gum so his ears don’t hurt from the descent, despite the aches in his bones, Charlie smiles back.

“Are we almost there?” He asks, recognizing the monuments, finger pointing at the window.

“Should be, look, see they’re coming to collect our trash.” Charlie pulls off his headphones, stuffs them in his pocket. The flight attendants are making their rounds with a bleached smile and gentle wake-ups of passengers who had fallen asleep on the journey. They’re coming his way, so Charlie turns to Henry and picks up the little bag of goldfish from the airport and asks, “Are you finished with these?”

“Yeah I accidentally dropped one on the floor.” Henry makes that half-frown that kids make sometimes when they’re worried they’re going to get in trouble.

“That’s okay, just be careful not to step on it, it makes more of a mess that way.” Charlie smiles at him even though he’s too tired to really manage the muscles, shows him that it’s okay.

“I’ll be careful I promise, I accidentally stepped on a snail at mom’s apartment and I cried.” Henry whispers in Charlie’s ear, again worried that he’d be yelled at. Charlie wonders who was snapping at his son to make him fear every little admission. But Henry doesn’t seem upset, he shrugs and sits back in his seat with a, “So now I watch where I’m going better.”

“I’m sure the snail knew you didn’t mean it.” Charlie replies, although his brain is caught up more on the mention of Nicole than anything. He swallows hard, gives the stewardess the small empty bag of snacks and tries as casually as he can to muster up, “Do you like it, mom’s apartment?”

“Yeah there’s lots of kids who are all really nice, and the flowers are pretty. We go to the beach a lot and mom says I’m going to get tan, I’ve got a really good seashell collection so far. But it’s really hot.” Henry looks out at the night sky. “Like sticky all the time. Sometimes I feel like when I go out onto the balcony I can drink the water in the air.”

Charlie frowns, buckles Henry’s seatbelt when the little sign lights up.

“She’s got air conditioning, doesn’t she?” Charlie asks, as he buckles his own. He tries not to sound accusatory.

“Yeah but it’s still hot.” Henry replies, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

And maybe it is.

Some things are easy, like the weather. That’s why everyone went to it for small talk, nothing easier than commenting about the weather.

It had been hot, when Charlie and Nicole had gotten into the fight.

 He doesn’t want to think about it, the things they said. The way they both raged and shouted at one another in white stucco walls, bare walls with next-to-nothing of his own design, his own choice. He had called you, had asked you what to put up on those walls, and then, well. It didn’t matter much, did it? He went and ruined it, punched a hole straight through the whole thing.

He doesn’t want to think about the things he said. The way vitriol spit from his mouth, the way his face contorted and pinched and grew red hot, the way he could feel the blood pounding in his ears. How he had been fuelled by spite and hate and blind panic, panic because this was all going so wrong, so badly. It was going badly. He regrets it, what he says. He regrets a lot of it.

He doesn’t want to think about how true they all were, on both sides, and how painful that truth was. The words screamed screamed screamed at one another with shaking fists of fury. Who was this woman that he had married? And who had he become?

 No, YOU fuck off. If you listened to your son, or anyone, he’d tell you he’d rather live here.

He tells you because he knows it’s what you want to HEAR!

 Voices of his own hatred and fear and pain echo in his ears, pain and rage that he’s never felt before.

 You’re being so much like your father.

DO NOT compare me to my father. You’re exactly like your mother! Everything you complain about her, you’re doing. You’re suffocating Henry.

 He tries to blink back tears, as the plane soars through the sky. He feels sick, he’s exhausted. He wonders if Henry would forgive him if he went and threw up in the little bathroom that he can’t even fit in.

 I felt repulsed when you touched me. The thought of having sex with you makes me want to peel my skin off.

You’ll never be happy. In LA or anywhere. You’ll think you found some better, opposite guy than me and in a few years you’ll rebel against him because you need to have your VOICE. But you don’t WANT a voice. You just want to fucking complain about not having a VOICE.

 He looks out the window, his hands shake. He says he’ll be right back, as his feet carry him away, down the aisle despite the protesting flight attendants. They take one look at him and let him go, let him wedge himself into the bathroom.

 You gaslighted me. You’re a fucking villain.

You want to present yourself as a victim because it’s a good legal strategy, FINE. But you and I both know you CHOSE this life. You wanted it until you didn’t.

 He braces himself against the little counter, splashes water on his face. He can’t cry now, not yet. Henry needs him, he’ll need to hold Charlie’s hand because the landing part always scares him. He tries sucking tears back into his eyes, tilts his face up so they might just…reabsorb into his eyeballs. He doesn’t know.

 You’re so merged with your own selfishness that you don’t even identify it as selfishness anymore. YOU’RE SUCH A DICK.

Every day I wake up and hope you’re dead-- Dead like--If I could guarantee Henry would be OK, I’d hope you get an illness and then get hit by a car and DIE.

 The words are whiplash, when they come back, and he’s got a white-knuckle grip on the tiny counter, gets jostled around as the plane hits turbulence as it begins to descend. He should go back to his seat, he can hear the seatbelt sign dinging, can hear the pilot over the loudspeaker.

 I know.

I’m sorry.

Me too.

 Was he?

 He splashes himself with water again, gets a grip. Leaves the bathroom, apologizes to the attendants as he quickly walks to his seat. He’s glad there was no one on the aisle side for his row, glad the plane was relatively empty, calm in the navy night.  

“Are you excited to see the new house?” Charlie says in case Henry can see him in the dark.

“Yes!” Henry’s eyes shine happily and he turns to face his dad, “Mom said it’s got a big backyard, is that true?”

“A really big backyard, bigger than our old one. If you want we can get a pool and go swimming in the summer, you can invite all your friends over for a pool party.” Charlie promises. He’ll promise anything, at this point, anything Henry wants.

“Okay but only if there’s sno-cones, Billy had a birthday party and they had sno-cones and they were so good my mouth was stained for three days.” Henry laughed quietly to himself, and it kills Charlie that he wasn’t there to see it.

“We can have sno-cones. What else did you do with mom?” He wills his voice not to crack.

“Um,” Henry thinks around a yawn, “We went to the parks a lot. I’m learning how to roller skate.”

“Really? You’re brave, I’m too afraid of falling.” Charlie ruffles Henry’s hair.

“It’s not so bad, I’ve got knee-pads and everything.” Henry laughs and ducks out of the motion, playfully avoiding getting his hair messed up. It’s long, he needs a cut, Charlie thinks. “When we get home I’ll show you.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Charlie nods, and then he notices that the plane is dipping more dramatically, so he offers a big palm to his son and smiles, “Here hold my hand, we’re landing, chew your gum really fast.”

The landing is easy, only a little bumpy which Charlie’s thankful for. He didn’t know what kind of metaphor that would be, if the whole flight back home was rough. But the plane lands, and they’re on the tarmac, and the passengers all sleepily applaud in that way that they always do, and Henry makes a face.

“How come people are clapping?” Henry asks kind of loudly, innocently judgmental in that way kids can be.

“They’re thanking the pilot for doing a good job.” Charlie explains.

“Why don’t they just thank him then?” Henry doesn’t buy it, and Charlie chuckles to himself.

This really is his kid, he thinks. He tries not to cry.

“We can thank him when we leave.” Charlie unbuckles their seatbelts, and he can tell Henry is antsy to stretch his legs.

“Should we stand up now?” Henry asks, always filled with questions this one.

“No.” Charlie shakes his head on response, only to have his son look around him with a raised eyebrow.

“But they’re all standing.” He gestures to people crowding the aisle.

“That’s because they’re impatient.” Charlie mutters, not wanting to piss anyone off. He feels like he’d snap if someone challenged him on something, even something small. “They can’t go anywhere, it takes the pilot a long time to make sure everything’s okay with the plane before they open the doors.”

“You’re really smart dad.” Henry sighs and rests his head against Charlie’s bicep and says so soft that Charlie almost misses it, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too honey.” Charlie blinks, the ache in his heart slowly healing, trying its best to hold itself together until he can sob into his pillow.

Now that they’re landed, Charlie can pull his cell-phone out – his regular one, not the burner phone – and thumbs through his contacts. His heart leaps in his throat when he opens up your messages, half-expecting to find a picture of your tits right there in his face. But no, he only finds the innocent messages of friends.

We landed, should be off the plane in 20. He types up, hits send and anxiously awaits your reply.

“Who are you texting?” Henry peers over his arm, nosy.

“(Y/N), she’s going to pick us up from the airport and drop us at home.” Charlie shows him, because there’s nothing to see except plans and flight numbers that he sent you so you could figure out the best time to leave the house.

“(Y/N)! I have something for her.” Henry brightens up immensely, and he doesn’t know why, but Charlie’s relieved by that.

His phone buzzes before the screen even has a chance to go dark, and he smiles at the response:

Okay! I’m circling, JFK’s a nightmare right now. Let me know when you’re close. Can’t wait to see you!

“Oh yeah, what?” Charlie asks as he puts the phone away back in his pocket.

“No I can’t tell you, it’s a surprise and you’re awful about keeping surprises.” Henry rolls his eyes and laughs as Charlie ruffles his hair again.

“Okay okay, fair enough.”  He replies.

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

Once they’re off the plane and away from the luggage carousel, once they’re down by the pick-up and drop off area, does Charlie feel warm. It’s a crisp forty-five degrees, and he’s in a sweater, but  he knows it’s really because of you, because he knows soon he’ll see you.

You spot them before they can spot you, and he swears he’s dreaming when he sees your car pull up, when he sees you jump out of the driver’s side and open the trunk. He’s hot all over, itchy, he wants to hold you, wants to hug you.

It’s been two weeks since he’s seen you, and fuck, oh fuck does he just want to hold you.

“Hi guys!” You laugh in excitement as the wind from the terminal tunnel fluffs up your hair. “Here, let me help, you must be tired.”

You come around and grab their suitcases, and part of him knows he should do it, but with his arm fucked up the way it is, he isn’t so sure he can. But the second you’re finished, he pulls you into a tight hug.

“You bet, thank you so much for getting us.” Charlie whispers, and he can feel you shudder out a sigh of relief into the embrace.

“Of course, how’s my favorite Henry?” You say when you pull away and crouch to his level so he can run into your arms.

“I’m your only Henry!” He points out, laughing as you pick him up and swing him around playfully before setting him down.

“Shh, don’t tell the others.” You wink, opening the back door for him and ushering him inside, “Come on, buckle in, safety first.”

You all climb into the car, and Charlie can’t stop looking at you. After two weeks of not having you, you’re finally here. He’s jumpy, he wants to tackle you. But you’re driving, and he’s exhausted, and his arm hurts.

He’s so tired, but it’s a good kind of tired, now that he’s with you.

“How was the flight?” You ask the car, look at Henry through the rearview mirror for a second before turning your eyes back to the road.

“Good, not too bumpy.” Henry says happily, watching the city lights zip past the window as you keep up with the speeding traffic. “I had goldfish.”

“I hope they didn’t spoil your appetite, I was thinking we could go out for some pizza. What do you think?” You smile, just happy for them to be back, happy for them to be home.

“I think I’d kill for a slice.” Charlie says, and fuck he’s struck by how badly he wants to hold your hand. “How about you, Henry?”

“Yes!” His son cheers at the idea of proper pizza, and Charlie smiles sadly.

LA had a lot of things, but New York did too.

He nudges his hand against yours gently, carefully, only for the briefest of seconds before he’s pulling back.

New York had you.

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

Lately I seem to walk as though I had wings

Bump into things like someone in love

Each time I look at you

I'm limp as a glove

And feeling like someone in love

 It’s late, but that doesn’t matter for the city that never sleeps. You make a pitstop at a favorite place, a little corner shop that only sells slices. The pizza is thin and folds in half like a dream, and Charlie can’t stop wolfing it down, can’t stop shoving it into his mouth. Nothing feels more like home than New York pizza, he thinks.

Especially when you and Henry are laughing about him behind your own slices.

It feels all too familiar, feels like it did when Nicole had fucked off for what Charlie thought was forever, when for six months Charlie cared for his son all on his own. Well, that’s a lie, remembering how so many nights were spent at this pizza joint, you and Henry laughing at him.

He hadn’t cared for his son all on his own.

“Hey Henry, what do you think about (Y/N) joining us for dinner tomorrow after you get back from school?” Charlie asks somewhat seriously, knowing that he’s killing the mood. But it’s an important question, and Henry can tell, even as he frowns.

“Why’d’ya ask it like that?” Henry asks before taking a big bite of crust.

“Well just because we’re going to have someone from the state come in and watch us, and I want to know if you’d rather have (Y/N) there for that or not.” He explains, looking at you before looking at his son. And as much as it hurts him to think of excluding you, he knows that whatever Henry is more comfortable with, he’d do. “It can be just the two of us, if you’d like.”

“Why’s someone watching us?” Henry asks, not angry or anything, just curious.

“Just to see how we are as a family, that’s all.” Charlie says.

He doesn’t say that it’s to see how fit he is as a parent, doesn’t say that it’s to make sure the house is livable, suitable, the best place for him. He doesn’t say there’s so much fucking pressure on this dinner to go well, doesn’t say that if anything bad happens they’ll side with Nicole and Nicole will win and he can’t have her win he just can’t –

“Well if they want to see the family, (Y/N)’s gotta be there too.” Henry says softly, like he’s nervous about it, and it shocks Charlie out of his own inner monologue. Henry looks at you, and almost like he’s worried you’re going to reject his broken family, he asks, “Don’t you?”

“If you want me, Henry.” You reply with a nod, because really, really this is about him.

About what’s best for him and his wants. He’s just a child, he shouldn’t have to know everything that he wants, shouldn’t have to have his whole upbringing uprooted because of it. But that’s what Nicole did to them, and that’s the way it is.

He’s old enough to know that, and it breaks Charlie’s heart.

“Yeah, you should be there.” Henry says, picking at some of the melted cheese that fell onto his piece of parchment paper.

You look at one another, and then you look at Charlie, and he doesn’t know how he isn’t supposed to cry. You can tell and so you stand up quickly, check your phone for the time.

“It’s getting late, I gotta drop you guys off at home! Want another slice to go? There’s nothing in your fridge, didn’t want it to spoil while your dad was away.” You say warmly, in that way that you always do, always there to diffuse a situation before it can even begin.

Charlie shakes himself, tries to get a grip. He doesn’t ever want to be a situation for you.

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

Henry is practically falling asleep on the drive into the suburb where Charlie lives, where the new house is. You’d done a real good fucking number on it, turning it into a home while he was gone. It wasn’t something Charlie had any energy for, and so you took the two weeks to furnish it with things you thought they’d like. Henry is seeing it for the first time, but in a way, so is Charlie.

“Why don’t you go ahead honey?” Charlie says giving him the keys to go unlock the front door. “I’ll explore the house with you tomorrow, I’m beat.”

“Me too, time’s different here.” Henry says, and you chuckle a little at the way he’s jet-lagged like some old weary traveler. Henry grabs his backpack and runs into the house calling, “’Night dad, ‘night (Y/N)!”

“See you tomorrow sweetie.” You call after him, as Charlie comes around to your window and leans his arms against it. You look at him sadly, reach up to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into the touch, starved of you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just wanted to look at you a little more.” He says, kisses your palm. It’s dark in the suburb, only a couple streetlights lit. “Do you really have to go?”

“Now that Henry’s back we have to be more careful, you know that.” You sigh, and you’re right, he knows you’re right. “Call me if you need me, okay?”

“What if I need you now?” He tries, but you only pinch his cheek and give it a little pat.

“Bye Charlie.” You say, and he steps away from your car.

He watches you drive down the road, watches as you always remember to use your blinker, before disappearing around the corner.

He feels empty as soon as you’re gone.

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

Lately I seem to walk as though I had wings

Bump into things like someone in love

Each time I look at you

I'm limp as a glove

And feeling like someone in love

Feeling like someone in love

In love

 The house is too quiet, dark.

He closes the front door, drops his luggage. He’s exhausted, fuck he’s so tired. He’s so tired, the kind of tired that’s settled too deep into his bones, that no amount of sleep can fix. He’s tired, and he’s terrified, but he’s too frayed around the edges to really feel it, to really feel anything.

Henry has already run up the stairs, already found his room. Charlie can hear the excited happy noises as Henry’s light-up sneakers illuminate the hallway. He’s found the bluetooth radio Charlie got him on a whim, and is playing some song Charlie doesn’t know.

Charlie makes his way up to the master bedroom, something foreign and new and yet filled with you. Your mark is absolutely everywhere, even in the very floorboards. He drops his luggage and steps out of his shoes, feeling like garbage as he makes his way to the shower. He just wants to scrub the day away, just wants to scrub the feeling of slimy dirty Los Angeles away, wants the New York water to rinse his sins down the drain.

He turns the water hot as it will go, scalding, and when he strips himself down and changes the dressings on the deep gash in his arm, he stares at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t know who he is anymore, what he’s doing anymore. He doesn’t know. The whole thing feels fruitless, feels pointless. He wants to smash the mirror, when he sees the bags under his eyes.

“God, I hate, this!” He says at himself in the mirror no one there to hear him. Henry’s all the way on the other side of the house, has music playing off his phone. The music and the rush of the shower drown out the sound of his shout.

He steps under the spray, leans himself up against the cold tile wall and just watches as water swirls at his feet. He needs to get clean, he knows, he won’t crawl into bed until he is, and fuck, does he desperately want to be in bed.

He wants to feel the cool sheets on his skin, wants to breathe in the scent of his pillow. He wonders if they still smell like you. You’ve been checking on the house while he was away screaming at Nicole, you slept in his bed. He wonders if you touched yourself under his covers.

His hand reaches for his dick before he even really knows it, just at the simple thought of you.

You, you, you.

He misses you.

He’s missed you the entire time he went away to fucking LA.

He thinks about how you would have been with him, how you would have looked. He thinks about how you would have smiled at him in the mornings, how that smile would have cut through the fog. He thinks about you, how you would have warmed the side of the bed next to his, how your breath on his face would have woken him, how your moans would have filled the space of the shitty little apartment he’s punched a hole in.

“(Y/N),” He lets his head tip back against the cold tile as soap and suds run down his body, as they slick up his cock, as he jerks himself off, “Oh, (Y/N).”

He thinks about how you would have fucked him, let him fuck you, after the bullshit. After the fight. He wonders if the fight would have even happened, if you had been there with him. He wonders if anything bad could ever happen if you’re there.

He speeds up his hand, grip on himself tight, trying to emulate your own hand. Your hands are soft, they’re supple, they’re well manicured and they know how to twist and grope and squeeze him just right. He imagines you on your knees in front of him, imagines the way soap would wash down in between your breasts imagines the way you’d guide his cock to your lips –

“Fuck,” He’s groaning, smacking his head against the wall as his hips buck into his hand, as he fucks his hand, wishing he were fucking you.

God, all he wants is you.

He comes all over his chest, nearly loses his footing, because he doesn’t realize it, but he’s used your body soap that you kept in the shower and now he smells like you and that’s so overwhelming that he’s afraid he’ll black out.

His heart hurts, when he comes down from his high, and he watches as the evidence of his arousal winds down and around, going down the drain, like so much in his life.

He throws a hand out and shuts off the water, desperate for you. He knows he can call, he knows, you always pick up. He’s got the little burner phone with just one number programmed in. He can’t save it, he’s too afraid to save it, but if anyone were to look at the call log, it’s all you, just you.

He fumbles out of the shower to get himself dried off, stumbles into bed. The wound on his arm is bleeding, again, and he has a spike of panic that the bandages won’t be enough, again. He’ll deal with it later, in the morning, he doesn’t give a shit.

Right now all he needs is you.

The burner phone is in his pants pocket, right where he abandoned it next to the bed. He squints against the bright light of the screen as his fingers already know where to go, his hand already knows what to do. He can’t bear to bring it up to his face, not right now, not like this, so instead he rests the phone on his chest and turns it on speaker, listening to it as it rings.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.” He begs the universe, eyes closed, fingers crossed, hoping hoping hoping it’s not too late.

“Charlie?” You ask, and fuck, oh fuck, he could cry, maybe he is crying, because that’s your voice. It’s music to his ears, it’s an original score winning best awards in every show, it’s a symphony at the philharmonic and he wants to give you a standing ovation as you ask, “Is everything okay?”

You’re worried, concerned for him. That brings him down to earth, the worry.

“Yeah, it’s – no it’s not. Fuck, are you, can you – ” He can’t lie to you now, but he doesn’t know what the fuck to even say, he doesn’t know.

You’re so good to him, so kind to him, so patient. He doesn’t know, but you do, you do because he can hear shuffling on the other end of the line, can hear you throwing the sheets off of your body, can hear you rummaging in your dresser for clothes.

“I’m on my way, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” You say, you promise, and it feels like he’s just been granted some illegal wish, some chance he shouldn’t have.

His hands shake as they rake through his wet hair, as he licks his lips, as he tries to tell himself to stay calm for just ten minutes, it’s only ten more minutes without you.

“Door’s unlocked.” He whispers into the phone, and you’re nodding, he can tell you’re nodding, by the way the phone statics up.

“Love you.” You say, and damn, no one’s said that to him in so long.

No one’s said it and meant it, other than you.

  Ten minutes feels like ten years, when he’s in bed without you. He waits, just waits for you, his ears trained on the front door, waiting waiting waiting. He nearly falls off the bed when he hears you, finally, stepping into the house and locking up behind him. You come up the stairs two at a time, push open the bedroom door and take in the sight of him.

He’s managed to pull on sleep-pants, something soft and long to warm him, but he’s bare chested and his arm is still bandaged, and you tend to that first.

“Oh Charlie honey, what the hell happened, to you?” You ask, collecting him in your arms.

Something about that, about that simple embrace, has him sobbing in your hands. He’s been so emotional, this whole fucking week, so emotional. He doesn’t know how to handle any of it, it’s all so new, all so stressful. He’s so fucking stressed out, so he cries and cries and you just hold him tight as he clings to you.

You’re talking about the cut on his arm, the one that you now see because he’s shirtless. He’d been wearing a sweater since the airport was always fucking freezing, and you hadn’t seen it. But now you do, and that’s what you’re talking about, even though really you could have been talking about his whole life.

What the hell happened to him?

“It was stupid – I did that dumb fucking thing with the knife – ” He tries to explain, and you’re immediately rummaging through his pants.

“Where is it?” You ask, not unkindly, just insistently.

“What?” He’s confused, he’s so wrapped up in the thought of you, in the thought of you actually being here with him, that he missed the question.

You lean down to kiss him, and Charlie’s whole body tingles, his whole self comes alive. He’s never felt so alive, as to when you kiss him.

“The knife, the keys. Where is it?” You ask gently, rubbing a soothing little circle on his cheek.

“It’s on the night-stand.” He answers, leaning over and grabbing them, handing them to you, offering them to you.

He’d offer anything to you.

He’s offering you everything he has.

You take them and unclip the knife off the keychain, throw it into the waste basket, collect his face up in your hands again, kiss him again. You kiss him over and over and his sobs subside into hiccupping little gasps, little pants against your mouth.

He feels like a drowning man and you’re the only clean lungful of air he’s had in years.

“You’re never doing that trick again, do you hear me? It’s not funny, I don’t want Henry thinking it’s funny. You need stitches, we need to get you stitches.” You’re not angry, which he’s grateful for.

You’re worried, which kills him. He almost wishes you were angry instead of worried.

“We’ll go in the morning, after he goes to school, for now I just,” He trembles, shakes shakes shakes, “I want to be close to you, I need that (Y/N), I need to be close to you.”

He’s begging, he knows he is. Hands clasped before you he pleads for comfort, comfort he aches for.

The cooling balm of your love is his savior, and when you lean back only far enough to strip yourself out of your own clothes, when you come back towards him with open arms that you encourage him to throw himself into, he could scream shout sob with relief.

“You’ve got me, I’m here, I’m all yours.” You whisper, holding him close close close to your chest.

“Are you? Are you mine?” He whispers back, terrified, so terrified that this is all just a dream, that he’s still on the floor of his tiny fucking apartment in Los Angeles, bleeding out on the floor.

“I am, I promise Charlie, I am.” But you’re really real, and you’re really combing your fingers through his hair, and his heart is really racing even as you’re trying to calm him down. “You’re okay honey, it’s okay.”

He wrangles out of your grip, and you frown, brow creasing as he maneuvers the two of you so your positions are reversed, so he can press you into the mattress and prop himself on top of you. You are so beautiful, in the moonlight, the glow of the streetlamps washing over you, some ethereal thing.

He can’t help but litter your body with praise, adoration leaking from his fingertips. He can’t help it, not when you deserve it so, when you are the most deserving of it at all. He is reverent in the way he caresses your body, hands skimming the softness of your flesh, lips trailing after it as he presses kisses into your skin.

“Thank you, for being here, for being with me.” He is so grateful, so completely grateful for you, “Thank you, I don’t – I don’t know how I’d do this without you.”

He rests his head on your stomach and just stays there for a while, just stays there while he kisses your sides, before moving further down your body and opening your hips up, pressing your legs down flat onto the mattress on either side of his head.

“You don’t have to do it without me, I’m right here.” You sigh as he sucks marks onto your hips, fingers bruising the meat of your thighs with ease, not even realizing how tight of a grip he’s got on you.

You are the only good thing he’s had in so long, the only thing in this fucked up divorce that he knows he can count on, the only thing that he knows for sure who wants him.

He’s not even sure if Henry wants him.

“She’s winning.” Charlie says softly, on the verge of screaming. He wants to scream, but instead he focuses that energy into you, into your body, his fingers slipping between your legs and pushing into you, making your toes curl into the sheets. “She’s winning, (Y/N). She’s going to win and fucking take him away. This will be the last time he’s here. His first and last.”

“No she won’t.” You gasp as he shoves his nose into the crease where your thigh meets your pussy, how beautiful it is just for him, how it throbs. He wonders if you’ve been just as sick about it, about the distance, about missing him, as he has missed you.

“How do you know?” He asks, hopes, wants to know, wants some sort of answer that he knows you can’t give, not really. You can’t predict the future, you can’t sway the judge.

“I just do.” You say, and your back arches when he fingers you harder, when he draws out a moan, a real proper moan, from deep inside your cunt. Your hand comes down to tangle in his hair, and the sting of your pull is so good against his scalp, and you ask, “Have I ever been wrong before?”

“No – ” He shakes his head, kisses your body, kisses everywhere he can reach.

“Exactly.” You whisper, as he tries so hard to get as close to you as possible, as he tries to make up for the lost time, all that time of him being away, being across the country with a wife who doesn’t want him. He tries to express how much he adores you through the press of his fingers on your body, tries to express his gratitude as you beckon him up up up, asking, “Give me a kiss? My lips are lonely.”

“They are?” His eyes soften, and he aches for you, as he comes to your call, as he removes his fingers from the wet heat between your legs and smears your own slick across your cheek as he kisses you.

“They are, I get lonely when you’re gone.” You admit, and he’s so relieved in a sick sort of way, so pleased that you missed him too, that you thought about him too, thought about him from three thousand miles away.

“Come with me next time, to Los Angeles.” He says, more of an order than an ask, more of a demand than a plea. He kicks himself mentally for that, for being controlling, Nicole left him because he’s controlling, he can’t make that same mistake with you, so as he cups your cheeks in the moonlight he searches your eyes and adds, “Please?”

But you, you you you.

You just smile and nod and kiss him, when you say, “Yes.”

“Will you stay?” He murmurs against your lips, and you’re putty in his hands, you’re too tired to object, not that you want to.

“Yeah, we can come up with something to tell him.” You whisper, rubbing your nose against his, as your heart beats next to his.

“Once all this is over, I swear to you there’s gonna be no more hiding.” He cards a hand through your hair. “No more sneaking around, not ever again.”

“You’re worth the wait, you know?” You say, and there you go again, shattering his whole world, his whole perception of life, with those words. “You have to know that.”

He doesn’t, not really. Maybe he does. The selfish part of him does.

He doesn’t feel selfish around you.

Maybe that’s the most selfish thing.

“I love you.” He says, because it’s all he knows how to say right now, all he knows that’s true.

“I love you too.” You smile back at him, before having to clear your throat a little. “I’m thirsty, want something to drink from the kitchen? The fridge is the fancy kind, has the filter right in the door.”

“Yeah, better have some.” He nods, not wanting to let you go.

He does anyway, because nothing’s about what he wants anymore.

“I’ll be right back.” You kiss his cheek, and put your clothes back on.

You have a spare change of clothes in the dresser from when you spent the nights there getting the place ready, but there’s no sense in putting on a brand new outfit to go downstairs. Charlie watches you leave the bedroom, and just because he can, just because he’s missed you so much, he pulls on some pajama bottoms and creeps to the edge of the stairs.

“(Y/N)?” He hears Henry’s sleepy voice upon your arrival.

Charlie winces, heart racing.

“Hey Henry, what are you doing awake?” You say softly, keeping your composure, trying to appear as casual as possible.

“I can’t sleep, my body’s still on LA time.” Henry sighs, and Charlie feels awful, maybe he should have read him a bedtime story or something before having a nervous breakdown in the bathroom. But then Henry asks, “How come you’re here?”

And he freezes, ears trained to know what you say so he knows how to verify it in the morning.

“Your dad forgot something in the car so I came back over.” You lie easily. But is it a lie? He forgot his heart, in the passenger seat of your car. You only returned to put it back into his chest. You’re opening up the cabinets, Charlie can hear it when you say, “I know what’ll help, how does a mug of hot tea sound?”

“Will you make it with lemon and honey like you used to?” Henry asks, and there’s that reminder again, of the six months where you and Charlie scrambled, tried your damnedest to preserve what was left of this family.

Henry had used that word, hadn’t he? Family.

“You bet, and two cubes of sugar.” You say, rustling around with something, probably the box of sugar.  

“(Y/N)?” Henry asks again, his voice so small, and Charlie holds his breath.  

“Yeah?” You ask right back, setting the kettle to boil.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Henry says.

“I’m glad I’m here too.” You reply, “I missed you kiddo, both of you.”

He can’t see, but maybe you’re hugging.

He can’t see, but maybe you’re smiling at each other.

He can’t see, but maybe everything will be okay.

Maybe it’ll all be okay.

 Lately I seem to walk as though I had wings

Bump into things like someone in love

Each time I look at you

I'm limp as a glove

And feeling like someone in love

Feeling like someone in love

In love

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

Tagging some pals!  @steeevienicks @heldcaptivebychaos  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler  @whiskey-bumblebee @magikevalynn @tinyplanet-explorers @chelsjnov @romancedeldiablo @helloimindelaware @elfieboxcat @laurenshit @autumnlovesadam @peterisparker  @goodboybensolo  @the-marvelatic @miasera @emily-strange @proxyfoxy @disaster-rose @hazydespair @yosoymuyloca @1-800-choke-that-snoke @ktellmeastory @anongirl007 @zimmerxman @okk--maaan @flapjacques @aweirdlookingtree @callmemania-pls @theold-ultraviolence​ @og-selene​ @pinkmoontribe-blog​ @schopenhauerdeathsquad​

[autmnchllambrsky]

RED Taylor’s Version ranked on how much I relate/how much it’s gonna hurt n why

The ones I can’t even give personal context to bc it would bring up old shit🥲:

All Too Well

“Maybe we got lost in translation/ maybe I asked for too much/ You call me up again just to break me like a promise / so casually cruel in the name of ‘being honest’”

The moment I knew

“There in the bathroom I try not to fall apart and the sinking feeling starts…you call me later and say ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t make it’ and I said ‘I’m sorry too’. That was the moment I knew.😭

I knew you were trouble.

“A new notch in your belt is all I’ll ever be” and “the saddest fear comes creeping in that you never loved me OR her” …OUCH

I almost do

This one is like I miss you but I know you don’t miss me as much and if I let you in again you’re gonna leave me.. again. “I can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye/ it takes everything in me not to call you/ I wish I could run to you/ I hope you know that every time I don’t I almost do”

Red

Relatable bc I don’t ever stfu about something when it makes me upset

One’s that I can’t listen to bc I’ll cry

Come back be here

Military brat trauma/daddy issues

“I tell myself don’t get attached but in my mind I play it back spinning faster than the plane that took you/ I can’t help but wish you took me with you/ I break down bc it’s not fair that you’re not around”

Ronan

I physically can’t cope with the line “I’m standing in your closet trying to talk to you/ what if I kept the hand me downs you won’t grow into”

Sad Beautiful Tragic

They almost made it😢 always makes me think of Doctor Who lol

The Last Time

giving up on each other😢

One’s I was obsessed with in middle school

Girl at home

These Boys Ain’t Shit’s older sister. Like why are you talking to me about that when you know I know you have a girl??

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

Middle ground happy breakup song. Taking the power back from someone who humiliated you. A pop song written about someone who hates Taylor’s bubblegum tracks. Calls him out on his gaslighting while she’s at it♥️

Eyes Open

Hunger games track. Sad bc it mirrors how the media looks at her. “Everybody’s waiting for you to breakdown.. even when you’re sleeping keep your eyes open.”

Safe and Sound

The better hunger games track, comforting, haunting, appropriately dystopian. “don’t you dare look out your window darling, everything’s on fire. The war outside our door keeps raging on.”

The Lucky One

I swear the songs she writes about her own fame are a different brand of sad. “They tell you that you’re lucky but you’re so confused bc you don’t feel pretty, you just feel used and all the young things line up to take your place/ Now my name is up in lights/ but I think you got it right/ They tell me now ‘you’re the lucky one’/ can you tell me how I’m the lucky one?” Allegedly about Marilyn Monroe, and then related it back to herself in the last chorus

Holy Ground

Sad lyrics, dance pop bop. The end of a relationship sucks but while it was going good it was *really* good.

State of Grace

Same themes as holy ground. Love is hard but in this song they fight to make it work.

These don’t hurt at all🥰

Treacherous

Basically Ik loving u is a risk and I’m gonna do it anyway😌

Sweeter than fiction

Fun. Underrated. Motivational. Comfort music.

Stay stay stay

“I’d like to hang out with you for my whole life” 🥺🥺🥺

22

Party song. It really is a perfect fucking night. She really said “fuck it I’m young and I’m gonna have fun even tho there’s so much pressure on me”

Starlight

Party Song. About the Kennedy’s. A beach day blast. Let’s pretend to be rich and famous together.

Everything has changed

New loveeeeee “all I’ve seen since 18 hours ago is green eyes and your freckles and your smile on the back of my mind making me feel like I just wanna know you”

Begin Again

Finding love after being hurt and being able to trust someone with your pain>>>“For the first time, my past is past/you throw your head back laughing like a little kid/ I think it’s strange that you think I’m funny bc he never did/ I’ve been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does is break and burn and end/ but on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again.”

[youralternantpersonality]

New Me

OC x Reader then Embry x Reader

Warning: abusive tactics are used in this second part.

Part 1: “Gaslight” by Snow Tha Product

Part 2: “New Me” by Ella Eyre

Part 3: “Falling for You” by Tamia

***

Ella Eyre here, it's a new me Didn't have time when you knew me Why you tryna call like booty, oh, yeah, yeah

Take a step back and 180 I could play you like you played me (yeah) I really don't care for it lately, though, yeah, yeah

Over the past few weeks, Isaac would try to grasp my attention. At first, it was, well, indifferent. By all means, I was not going to take him back. I was stupidly in love with him, not stupid in general. He would text me different things like “can I come over”, “babe let’s talk about this,” and my favorite one, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.” It was comical really. So, for the fun of it, I thought I’d talk to him after school, just to see what his lame-ass would say this time.

“Y/n/n, are you seriously going to talk to him?” Kim asked, leaning into Jared for support of pure affection. I shrug my shoulders.

“Yeah, why not? He doesn’t have a shot in hell with getting back together with me. So, why not give me something to laugh at?” I said with chips in my mouth.

“Give who something to laugh about what?” Embry said, sitting next to me. Over the past few weeks, Embry, Jared, and Paul invited themselves to our table for no reason. Just, literally, took a seat next to us, introduced themselves, then proceeded a conversation with us as if we all knew one another and hung out with each other regularly.

“Y/n/n is going to allow Isaac to explain to her why he is an ass and beg for her forgiveness.” She says nonchalantly. Embry’s eyes go wide.

“Why? Are you thinking about taking him back?” He said looking straight into my y/e/c eyes. I smiled and shook my head no. It was hard to talk around him. It's one thing to admire him from afar, it’s another to sit next to him and attempt to have a normal conversation. Noticing my incoherent ways, Kim jumped in.

“She just wants to see what he’d come up with an officially laugh in his face. Almost like revenge, only without the spitefulness.”

“But her doing this is spiteful.” Paul shot back.

“Yes, but that’s not the point,” Kim argued. “The point is, she’s doing it, and we’re going to support her. Then we’ll later look back at this moment and not regret it because it will be funny as shit.”

“Hopefully a thing of the past,” Embry said underneath his breath.

“I’ll let you guys know how it goes.” I move to get up to head to class, “See you guys later.”

You need to change your story, bae Tell me you want to talk It's not what you came here for This heart is ghost, that girl you know Don't live behind that door Anymore, nah

Ella ain't here, it's a new me I don't make time for your foolin' Kinda got things to be doin', oh It's a new-new me, it's a new me Ella ain't here for your problems (what?) Left-right-left, keep on walkin' Shoulda took care of your diamonds, oh It's a new-new me, it's a new me

After school, I met Isaac in the parking lot next to my car. In a distance, I could see Embry’s deep brown eyes watching us. His glare at Isaac wasn’t shy of anyone around. Embry had a deep hatred for Isaac for multiple reasons. One, because of how he treats women (worse than Paul; at least Paul lets you know he’s not serious, Isaac will lead you on and drop you like you were nothing), and two, because they have a history. Isaac would bully Embry and his friends a lot of the time. When I found out about it, I confronted him. Thus, starting the downfall of our relationship. Trust and reassure that, by no means, was it Embry’s fault. Isaac was just an ass. And as soon as the gods blessed Embry, Isaac backed off quickly.

“Let’s get this over with Isaac. What do you want?” I said in an irritating and bored tone.

“Geeze, no hug? No ‘hey Isaac’?” he asked as if he deserved it.

“No. So what did you want?” Looking at him. We were the same height. I was “5’10” to his “5’11ish”. His intimidation game never worked on me and by the looks of Embry and his “6’2” fine ass, he was no intimidation to him either.

“I just wanted to see how you were doing since we took our break.” He shrugged.

“Boy, are you stupid or a dumbass?” I said squinting at him.

“What did you just say?” He said in a rough tone. In the corner of my eye, I could see Embry straighten up and Paul and Jared stopping him from coming over here.

“Break? What break? We broke up. Completely done.” I said as if it was a clear and obvious statement. He laughed at my statement and had the audacity to say what he said afterward.

“You’re crazy Y/n. We never broke up. We just needed a break from one another to see what we wanted. All these other girls don’t matter babe. You do. And only you.” He says grabbing my waist, pulling me towards him. I pushed away from him.

“The fuck is wrong with you? Are you dense or just stupid? We’re done. Leave me alone. Don’t text me, don’t call me, don’t even talk or look at me,” I tried to push his hands off me, but he held on tighter when I tried, “and don’t fucking touch me you bastard.” He glared at me and before he could say anything, he was on the ground.

“What the- “

“Embry, stop. I’m okay.”

“Don’t you know, when a woman says stop, you leave her alone. It’s called consent. Maybe someone should teach it to you some time.” He was visibly shaking. I grabbed his face to look at me and he let Isaac go.

“I’m fine. I promise.” I look at him with a small smile.

Got a new phone, got a new key Got my girlfriends and the new weve And I don't do what I used to When you call me tryna come through

'Cause Ella ain't here, it's a new me I don't make time for your foolin' Kinda got things to be doin', oh It's a new-new me, it's a new-new me

Why do you think you can come here? Not a doormat, it's your assumptions (No) Never did care what I wanted, oh, ah

You’d think Isaac would stop bothering me after Embry, indirectly, warned him that he’d kill him if he bothered me again. But no, see Isaac had this personality where he was persistent, and it was both irritating and noteworthy. Obviously, from here on, it is irritating and just plain harassing at this point.

To think, I was hoping that this was going to be something to look back at and laugh at. No, at this point, it was a game to him. And all I had to do was make sure Embry, nor myself, played it.

Lemme just say you're a killjoy Lovin' the sound of your own voice Think you talk smart but it's just noise, oh oh yeah

You need to change you story, bae Tell me you want to talk It's not what you came here for This heart is ghost, that girl you know Don't live behind that door Anymore, nah

Ella ain't here, it's a new me (new me) I don't make time for your foolin' Kinda got things to be doin', oh It's a new-new me, it's a new me Ella ain't here for your problems (what?) Left-right-left, keep on walkin' (walkin') Shoulda took care of your diamonds, oh It's a new-new me, it's a new me

Got a new phone, got a new key Got my girlfriends and the new weve And I don't do what I used to When you call me tryna come through

This continued onward for weeks. By this time, it was finals and graduation was just around the corner. Kim, Clair, and I have been helping the guys for their finals. Jacob and Quil had officially joined our little friend group and Clair finally got her baby daddy’s attention. It was cringy watching them flirt around one another until Paul, of course, called them out on it. Ever since it’s been smooth sailing with all of us.

Throughout this time, Embry and I had gotten closer. Where his attractiveness was hypnotizing, I tried to not let it get to me too much. However, he would find any excuse to see me outside of the school grounds with everyone. And to be honest, ever since we started doing that, it had been wonderful…Except for the fight that nearly broke out when Isaac cornered me after school one day—a day Embry, Jake, and Quil wasn’t there. Unknowing to him, Paul and Jared were watching closely

'Cause Ella ain't here, it's a new me (new me) I don't make time for your foolin' Kinda got things to be doin', oh It's a new-new me, it's a new me

Not now, never Not now, never Not now, never No, never, no Not now, never Not now, never Not now, never No, never, no

Not now, never Not now, never Not now, never No, never, no Not now, never Not now, never Not now, never No, never, no

Ella ain't here, it's a new me I don't make time for your foolin' Kinda got things to be doin', oh It's a new-new me, it's a new me Ella ain't here for your problems Left-right-left, keep on walkin' Shoulda took care of your diamonds, oh It's a new-new me, it's a new me

I was walking to my car beyond after hours finishing up my English paper for my final. Thankfully Mrs. Cartwright hated giving tests and decided to just have us do a massive five-page paper over Macbeth. Trying to hurry along since the rain was about to pick up. As I make it to my door, a set of hands grabs onto my waist and pulls me to a body. A hand goes over my mouth and a familiar voice whispers in my ears.

“I’m tired of you running away from me Y/n,” Isaac said pushing me into the side of my car. His eyes were bloodshot, and he smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. I pushed him back easily, and he stumbled backward to another teacher’s car. I unlocked my door and threw my stuff inside.

“Go home, Isaac. Don’t fuck up your future just because you decided to go psycho on someone.” I tell him, turning my back to get in the car, he grabs me and tosses me on the ground. My head hitting the asphalt as he towered over me.

“You will listen to me! You left me, you bitch! For that piece of shit Embry,” he spat, “You’re nothing but a whore!” He said, grabbing me to sit me up. And for once I was terrified of him. He lifted his arm to backhand me, but before it could touch me, it was caught.

“Lay another figure on her, and Embry isn’t going to be the one you need to worry about.” I look up to see Paul, Jared, and these other two kids who I later learned to be Seth and Leah.

Got a new phone, got a new key Got my girlfriends and the new weve Glad I don't do what I used to When you call me tryna come through

'Cause Ella ain't here, it's a new me I don't make time for your foolin' Kinda got things to be doin', oh It's a new-new me, it's a new-new me

As much as I wanted to put this behind me, I couldn’t. I didn’t want this to happen to any other girl who may come across him. So, I filed a police report. With the security footage the school caught, it was easy to put a protective order and charge him with harassment and assault.

After that day, Embry barely left my side. I was honestly fine with it, having him near made me safe. Over the summer, we hung out more and more each day. The more we hung out, the more confidence grew between us when we shared slight touches. On the beach, with just us, he’d make sure to comfort me and keep my anemic ass warm. Or when we’d go hiking, I noticed that he’d find the steepest trails so that he could hold my hand.

“Okay, Embry, can I make a suggestion.”

“Sure.” He said with excitement.

“No more steep hills, okay boo? I get that you’re fit. I do, and quite frankly, it’s lovely. But your girl over here is dying. Am I grateful for the weight-loss journey I am experiencing? Yes. But can a girl keep up? No, not yet at least.” He smiles and laughs under his breath at my exhaustion. I hit him in the stomach for his reaction.

“Alright, alright. No more steep hills, boo.” He smiles, eyes shining bright at the word I just called him.

“Just for that, you’re carrying me down. Ain’t no way in hell I’m doing that shit.” I say, jokingly, while laughing.

“Okay,” He shrugs his shoulders then proceeds to lift me while going down the trail.

“I was joking! Put me down! You’re going to hurt yourself!” I yell at him.

“Naw. I’m good. Plus, you’re not even heavy. So, stop moving before I accidentally drop you. The last thing I want to do is see my girl crying. Jesus, that’d kill me.” He said. I look at him with wide eyes and smile.

“So, I’m your girl, huh?” I look at him. He stops and looks down at me and smiles.

“Yeah, basically. Wait, you’re okay with that? Right?” He looks at me worrisome. “I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you into anything.” I couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“No, Em, you’re perfectly fine. I promise.” I smile sweetly at him and we continue onward in silence. 

[silenthillmutual]

I beg your pardon! It’s me who is going mad.

So, I know I did a Twitter thread about the ways Daniil is manipulated in Classic, and I thought I’d put it on here too.

I’m going to stop short of calling it gaslighting here though, because too many people are using that term who don’t really understand what it means. Gaslighting is specifically a form of abuse where the intention is to make the victim feel they are going insane. Not all manipulation or abuse is gaslighting - which doesn’t make it less bad, just...not gaslighting.

That being said: in Classic, there are quite a few times where Daniil can say that he thinks he’s losing his mind, and there are times when the game seems constructed to make you feel this way. Particularly I had in mind the ending of the game, and not just the part where you find out you’re a toy and always have been (that falls more under cosmic horror). What bugs me about the end and how that fits into things, is the fact that the Sand Pest and its outcomes have been chasing you - the clouds, the angels, the muggers, the firestarters, the rats, literally chasing you through houses and through town, only for all of it to completely vanish without a trace on the exact day you’re meant to give a solution to it all. I made a point on Twitter about how people attempting to gaslight you will submit you to a large amount of damage - physical, verbal, emotional, take your pick - and then remove the abuse and any signs of it just before they’re caught. it’s how they show to others that it’s you who’s the problem, not them. 

Regardless of whether you think the intention is to make Daniil feel he’s losing is sanity or not, the question would be who is manipulating Daniil, and why? There are a couple answers.

The first answer is the Town. The first playthrough as the Bachelor of the game is probably the closest fitting to psychological horror as the game gets. Like Silent Hill, the Town is full of horrors that seem tailor-made to torture Daniil specifically: most of these people are uneducated (the Town doesn’t even have a school), their cultural beliefs (mostly appropriated from the steppe culture) actively prevent him from doing his job as a doctor, his word and name are constantly weaponized by people with ulterior motives, and men run around on the first two days beating women to death or burning them alive and intervening actively costs you reputation - which you need to do anything. He arrives with the hope of finding evidence to keep his lab opening and, as we later learn, keep himself from execution, only to find that both the man who would serve as this evidence and the colleague who informed you of his existence have been murdered just before your arrival. You have a lot of things riding on your success, and everything about where you are is actively working against you. The government wants you to find a cure single-handedly, but the Town has other plans for you. 

And those plans are: errand boy, and scapegoat. People throughout the Town will inform you that they are scared of you when you’ve barely interacted with them, let alone in ways that should inspire fear. It doesn’t matter how good your reputation as Daniil is (and through the course of the game, there’s very little you’re made to do that lowers your reputation, and it never gets bad enough for you to be attacked on the street or refused sale from shops), what matters is the fact that everyone in Town, from the nameless NPCs to the rulers, are putting every bad thing they’ve done down as being your fault. 

But the Town has another way it’s manipulating Daniil, by almost making him a member of it. I don’t think I got a screenshot, but I’m sure that somewhere along the line Daniil comments that he’s starting to talk like one of the townsfolk. You can see this happens to Andrey, too, later in the game; he talks in what Daniil calls “Griefisms”. 

You have been sent here to fight an adversary that inherently cannot be beaten - in foolish hopes that a miracle would happen and your outstanding mind would stumble upon a once-in-a-million chance. And just so that you wouldn’t give up, they kept insisting that the adversary must be destroyed. Do you see how insidious the Powers That Be are?     > But why? Their motives are becoming less and less comprehensible to me by the day.

The second answer is the Powers That Be.

Three people enter the Town that the Powers That Be want to get rid of: the Bachelor, the Inquisitor, and the Commander. It wants them all to fix or solve or demolish something in the town, and doesn’t really care what happens to any of them. Pathologic 2 spells it out clearer for you that Aglaya, Block, and Daniil will all be executed upon return to the Capital if their answers are not what the Powers That Be want to hear. And for the time that you are in the Town as Daniil Dankovsky, the Powers That Be - like the town itself - actively work against you. The trains that are meant to bring food and medication never, to my knowledge, arrive, and most days bring about a new letter from the Powers spelling out for you how disappointed in you and your progress they are. Some of the ways they attempt to manipulate Daniil through these letters are subtle, but most of them are unsubtle suggestions that what he’s been able to accomplish is not good enough, that he was meant to work alone.

Even one of your first letters from them is suspicious; early on in the game, they write to let you know that they are in no way responsible for the outbreak, which is an incredibly suspicious thing to say. What is the point of sending such a letter? Would the player have really thought that they were if they hadn’t suggested as much through denial? After all, what called you to Town was a letter from Isidor Burakh. But yet, the Powers That Be are the ones who leave you stranded in the Town with limited resources, no help, and constantly shifting goalposts. Aglaya makes this clear to you when she arrives: you were never supposed to be successful. 

The letters from the Powers That Be do not serve any purpose other than to upset Daniil, and most if not all of them contain lies: that a train will be arriving, that they don’t mind if you have help in carrying out your plans, that Thanatica still exists, referencing conversations you’ve never had, signing drafts of letters you didn’t consult on with your name. One of the reasons i had put this down as gaslighting is because people who gaslight like to keep you off balance and emotionally fragile so that you’re easier to manipulate. You’ll do whatever they want to make the feeling stop, because you just can’t handle the stress anymore, and in the process you come across to others as unreasonable, unhinged, crazy, dangerous, so that no one will trust you. And that’s exactly how Daniil starts to come across to the townspeople: deranged, strung out, dangerous, untrustworthy.

You can contrast all that to a different letter they send you where they claim to be proud to call you one of your own. Combine the two, and you get honeymooning. They want to remind you of the good (or at least, not-as-bad) times you’ve had with them. This behavior serves two, sometimes three purposes: to keep you off balance from the violent back-and-forth, dizzying nature of what they’re doing to you, and so that you’ll defend them to people who can see what’s going on and want to get you out of it. You’ll even convince yourself that you’re not really being mistreated. If you were being abused, would they be so nice to you? 

You are the last friend our family has. I hope our attachment to you doesn’t look obtrusive.      > It requires too much from me. I’m not comfortable with it.     > No, not at all. 

The third answer is the Kains. Specifically, Georgiy and Maria repeatedly manipulate Daniil, though I’ve no doubt in the text above Victor stating their attachment to Daniil is also a manipulation, and one possibly planned by either or perhaps both of them. The text above probably looks normal, but think about the purpose it serves: to reinforce that Daniil is friendly with the Kains. Your only two options are to say that it doesn’t bother you, or to express that you feel your boundaries are being violated by their attention. But I even thinking about picking that option... Well, it feels mean. 

Throughout the game, people will comment on Maria’s attachment to you and what they feel is your predestination to be romantically paired with her. All this, despite the fact that you don’t really interact with her that much. I’ve seen this be explained as forced heterosexuality, but I think it also is a way of the Kains manipulating Daniil into doing what they want. Daniil gets upset whenever people cry; when children cry, he tries to calm them and fix whatever’s upset them - there’s an entire sidequest after the army arrives in which Daniil kills a group of soldiers, spurred into action by upset children. Whenever he encounters Maria crying, he reacts with discomfort, and she uses these tears and upset to manipulate Daniil into thinking Aglaya has lied to him, effectively distancing him from one of the only people in the game with a rational mind to show him support and tell him the truth. I don’t think the two are in any way unconnected. Something abusers, manipulators, gaslighters love to do is isolate you so that you only have one source of information to go to. If they cut you off from other people, they can continue to feed off of you. You’ll never have a chance to question if what you’re being told about yourself or others is correct, you’ll just be a constant supply of drama for them. 

DANIIL: Was there any particularly notable backstory? I’m deadly tired of all these people. They’re inhuman. They tell the future, believe in walking zombies, and die in all manners of painfully abnormal ways. 

AGLAYA: Your line of thinking is obviously fallacious - and I was implying something rather mundane. I promise you no one can really tell the future around here and neither are deaths inspired by third parties uncommon. Mysterious phenomenons do occur here sometimes... but hardly more often than anywhere else.

You can see, first, the effect all this has had on Daniil, how dispiriting the past several days have been to him. But you can also see here exactly why a family that prides itself on multi-generational reincarnation and manipulation through “fortune-telling” wants to keep its blunt instrument in the dark. 

That is, ultimately, why they are manipulating Daniil. Georgiy knows full well when he tells Daniil at the beginning that everyone, even himself, will lie to Daniil, that being that honest upfront is more likely to lead Daniil to trusting him. They want to sway him to their cause; this is why you are told that your success here depends on the wellbeing of the people Maria considers useful: herself, her father and uncle - who she gets out of the way later on to come into her power, the architects of the Polyhedron - which she will use to ascend to power, and the theatre director who has pledged himself to be her loyal servant. Eva’s on the list, too, but her inclusion was deliberately set up to make you depend on the Kains later in the game, considering that it’s Maria who convinced her to commit suicide:

DANIIL: Why did Eva die then? AGLAYA: I have a distinct suspicion she was made to die. DANIIL: By whom?  AGLAYA: One of the Kains. I’d even go so far as to claim that they may have performed human sacrifice.

It’s a two-for-one deal: try in vain to make a Focus of the Cathedral, and remove from Daniil the last piece of influence who was not totally in love with Maria. Maria “cries” and is “upset” at you for thinking Eva’s death is her fault, but no one directly tells you Maria is responsible - all Aglaya does is tell you the Kains are at fault. The rest is just you remembering how nasty Maria was about Eva at the beginning of the game. I wouldn’t even say that Maria was removing a rival for Daniil’s affection. She really does only view Daniil as an object: if you speak to her on day 12, she assumes that you’re leaving, and doesn’t even ask you to stay (for kicks, contrast this with either ending of Pathologic 2 when you speak to Daniil as Artemy, where he’s supposed to be your rival. what was all that about Maria being in love with you...?); he’s not even present in his own ending cutscene. Even Mark Immortell says you’re leaving -

And actually, that’s a really fascinating conversation you can have with him on day 12. It’s where the game outright admits exactly what Aglaya told you: it’s all fake. Maria cannot really see the future, you’ve just been manipulated the entire game to achieve someone else’s goals, and unless you’ve gone around and saved Artemy’s or Clara’s bound, it’s too late for you to turn back and make a different decision. If you’ve picked Daniil’s ending, you just destroyed an entire town on the basis of outright lies. 

[impala666]

Do It For You (1/?)

Okay, I did it after all. A Lenny Bruce x reader fic. But because I am lazy it will be in as many parts as it needs to be for it to be done. Enjoy!!!!!

Imagine being one of Mirium’s best friends. You’ve always been the rebel in your family but you haven’t quite broken out of your shell like Miriam has with her comedy. But when Lenny Bruce comes into your life that is all about to change.

You just finished watching one of Miriam’s friends do their comedy set. After seeing Miriam stand up on the stage at The Gaslight, you had been just a little obsessed with stand up comedy. While Miriam always told you that you were hilarious in your own right, you just never had the courage to stand under a spotlight. Other than sneaking to The Gaslight away from your family and the men they tried to set you up with and watching Miriam do her thing, this was your first comedy show. The man that Miriam took you to see was THE Lenny Bruce, of course you had only heard of him, you were over the moon that Miriam dragged you out of some place that wasn’t The Gaslight or the makeup counter at work. 

All of the men that your family set you up with always fell under their category and of course any man’s code. The men were always boring, bookish (not that there is anything wrong with that), rude, and controlling. Obviously none of them ever worked out because it was always your fault, even to your family. Your whole life you were always the loud one, the too open one, the flousy. Even though you had never done anything to earn that particular nickname, a man had to actually stick in order for that happen. Of course you had done things like sex with men when your family sent you to college, but again they never stayed because you were too “outspoken and never did a thing that a girl like you was supposed to do.”

“Oh my, God he was fucking funny,” you exclaimed to Miriam after he finished his set. You sat there wiping the tears from your eyes you laughed so hard. You would never tell her, but Lenny Bruce seemed to be everything you needed. He was brash, outspoken, hilarious, but still a sweetheart. At least he looked like one.

“I told you so. Now you know why you need to get out more instead of watching me say fuck on stage.” She sipped from her martini.

“Oh you know why I can’t. First off I would have to leave my family, which they would disown me for, for sure. Then I’d have to find a better job than the makeup counter, which of course no newspaper company wants to hire a woman, let alone an unmarried one. Whether she’s qualified or not.” You angrily circled the rim of your glass and took a sip. 

“But if you are that upset about your living situation, then you should get out even if it’s hard. At least have some fun once in a while.” You knew that Miriam was trying to help, and she was right. You just didn’t know how, didn’t know which direction to go, and it made you want to cry or throw something. 

“Then why don’t you change your living situation?” You asked raising a perfectly plucked  eyebrow at her with a growing smirk.

“I will drink to that,” she shook her head in agreement and reached over to clink your glasses together. To which you happily obliged, and you both downed the rest of your cocktails.

“Well, well, well. What are we toasting to over here?” You heard a man ask from behind you, but you knew it was for Miriam so you didn’t even bother looking up from your drink. Miriam and you made eye contact having your usual silent conversation, asking if she could share the honest answer. You shrugged but decided to answer for the both of you which was normally very out of character for you; you figured it must have been the few drinks that you had during the show. 

“We toasted to families and society and how fucked up they really are.” You went to look up at the man who was wearing a smirk of his own when he heard the answer come from you and not Midge. 

“And which one’s more fucked up?” He asked trying to challenge you, but the way he looked at you. It felt like it was different than other men. 

“Oh, I think they’re one in the same.” You commented back, causing the man to chuckle. 

“So, who’s your friend here Midge? I don’t think I’ve seen her before?” He asked leaning against the back of Midge’s chair.

“This is one of my best friends, Y/N L/N.” Miriam gestured to you with a bright smile. “And, Y/N, I am happy and proud to introduce the great Lenny Bruce. Your set tonight was amazing, as all ways. You even made Y/N cry she was laughing so hard.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lenny looked down at you with a charming smile. 

“Absolutely, you almost made me pee myself. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard a man laugh or say anything funny, maybe ever. But really it was very, very good.” You looked up at him and you couldn’t stop smiling, which made his smile grow, making you blush like the idiot you were. 

“Thanks, darlin. I’m going over to the bar for a drink anybody need a drink, Midge?” Lenny nudged her, Miriam shook her head and raised her half full martini glass. “Ms. Y/N?” God, why couldn’t you stop smiling.

“I’ll take whiskey and coke?” You asked him, expecting him to reprimand you like everyone else, but it never came. He just nodded his head, still smirking and strolled on over to the bar. But of course you couldn’t help but notice the back side of him as he walked away. 

“Oh God,” Miriam started laughing. “What was that?” She couldn’t stop laughing.

“What was what?” You asked, pretending to not know what she was talking about, so you just pretended to be looking at something else. 

“I introduced the two of you, and then it was like I was completely invisible. You like him.” Miriam looked at you almost expecting you to be in denial. Which she got correct because you shook your head no. 

“No, I don’t. I mean he’s not bad looking and he’s hilarious.” You excused.

“Yes, you do, Y/N, and I know he likes you too. It was like I wasn’t even here.” She argued.

“He did like me didn’t he,” the both of you leaned towards each other giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls. “But come on Midge. You know I would never be able to date a man like that, my family wouldn’t let me.”

“Y/N,” Miriam reached over to grab your hand in a friendly way. “I know that you’re scared of dating someone who your family doesn’t approve of or someone that they set you up with. But sometimes you need to do things for yourself, otherwise you will never be happy. Besides, I see the way you are when we’re out together or at work, who you are is bright, funny, and not afraid to speak her mind. Personally, I like that girl better and you should let her loose more.” You finally managed the courage to make eye contact with Miriam, because you liked that woman you were when your parents were not around just as she said. “Plus, even though the two of you just met. Lenny is over at that bar still staring at you.” You counted to three and looked to the bar over your shoulder, and sure enough there he was turning his head away when you looked over. You turned back around trying to hold back your smile as a blush started to creep all the way to your ears this time. “Since you met him, you have not stopped smiling and I can not remember the last time I’d seen you smile. He will be good to you and for you, I promise.” Miriam’s eyes shifted upward and she cleared her throat. “Shh, he’s coming back.”

“Shh, you were the only one talking” you laughed out.

“Here you go,” Lenny smirked down at you as he placed your drink in front of you, before pointing to the empty seat. “This seat taken?” He looked at Midge then looked back at you.

“No, no it’s open.” You gestured toward the empty spot. “Be my guest.”

“And I think that I will,” he pulled the chair out and sat down next to you. Closer than any man has tried to be to you since college; you were allowed to be a kindred spirit then.

“Oh, shit,” Miriam announced all of a sudden. Bruce and you snapped your eyes away from each other’s and looked  over at her with confusion. “I just remembered that Susie needed to talk to me about something at The Gaslight and I am so late, I’m so sorry.” She jumped to her feet and grabbed her purse. She was lying just to get the two of you alone, and you knew that she was lying; one, because she had always been awful at it. And two, because she never admitted when she was late.

“Sure you do,” you let slip out. Just so you could let her know that it was obviously bullshit. 

“Sorry, Y/N, we’ll do another girl’s night some other time. I have to go.” She grabbed her purse and bolted for the bar door and left. 

“Unbelievable,” you scoffed under your breath. 

“Yeah,” Lenny agreed but he was only staring at you.

“I guess I should go?” You asked him, even though you didn’t really want to.

“Okay, but do you?” Lenny asked.

“Do I what?” You furrowed your brows. He smirked and chuckled at your ignorance.

“You said you should go,” Lenny started.

“Yes,” you copied him as you waited for him to finish.

“But do you want to go?” You cocked your head to the side and took a sip of your drink. No one had ever asked you want you wanted to do. 

“No, for once I just want to actually drink with someone that I can talk to without having to be worried about being home at a certain time.” You answered him honestly.

“This is your first show ain’t it?” He asked, but Lenny started smiling like he already knew the answer.

“Kind of, yes. Midge was my first show, but that was by accident. I had heard of you and, you know, stand up comedy and I had always wanted to see one but my parents and rest of my family wouldn’t let me. The only thing I am supposed to be looking forward to is church, I practically had to beg them to let me get a job and go to school. I can’t even talk or say what I want.” You looked up and saw Lenny just staring at you. “I’m sorry, I’m just going on.”

“No, it’s good. If it makes you feel better.” Lenny shrugged as he took out a cigarette and lit it. “But tell me something?” His voice slightly jumbled from the cigarette in his mouth. “When was the last time you did something because you wanted to, be damned what anyone else has to say?” He took the cig out of his mouth.

“Never,” that was an easy answer for you. On the outside you knew you looked under control, but inside it felt like you were caged and getting angry and no one was listening to you because people felt like they didn’t have to. 

“Then stay and drink with me.” Lenny offered as he handed you the cig. 

“Fuck it,” you mummbled as you took the cig and brought it to your lips. As soon as you exhaled it felt and sounded like you were about to cough up a lung. “Should I also mention that I never smoked before either.”

“Then what have you done?” You expected Lenny to be annoyed or disappointed, maybe a mix of both. But he just sat there with his adorable smirk on his face.

“I’ve had sex.” It was quiet for a second but then the both of you just started laughing.

“Oh, then you’re definitely gonna wanna stick with me kid.” He put one hand on your knee, which you didn’t hate, and he slid you your drink so that you could breathe easier. And you could. You could breathe a whole lot better now.

[gunmetalarchived]

Love is a game to you, isn’t it? @epiitaphs

TW FOR ABUSE, PREGNANCY, COERSION AND GASLIGHTING.  Kat is just a horrible person, that is the point of her ok.

KAITYA

She sat waiting for him in the dark. It was almost routine by now. She knew when his flight would land, when his car from the airport would drop him off, all of it. She didn’t even look up from her papers scattered over the kitchen island, or the small half glass of red wine to her left. Only once the door was shut and the heavy this of his bag on the floor of the hall echoed through to her did she lean back and smile. “My heart, it’s good to see you. Tell me, are you in one piece? Did it go well?” She didn’t move from her stool, waiting for him to come to her. He had to be the one to initiate affection, only then would Sebastian be rewarded.

SEB

It would be nice to see her again, he thought. That was most of what consumed his mind on the drive from the airport, any tension from before he'd left almost completely forgotten. It'd just been the stress of moving, of having run away to another country anyway. He opened the door, dropping his things immediately. He took off his coat in a hurry as he heard her call out to him, coming into the kitchen and turning the light on. "It's good to see you too." He'd missed her. A nod. "No issues, I'm alright. It went well, I'll be paid the rest of the money in a few hours." She didn't stand to greet him. He'd have to go over to her, he supposed, if he wanted anything at all. Sebastian hoped nothing had gone wrong, that she wasn't angry at him for something. It'd probably just been a long day. He made his way over, leaning down to kiss her. "I missed you."

KAITYA

She smiled as he sped up. Nice to know he was eager. Whether it was for her company or the victory sex that came after a job well didn’t didn’t really matter. He was home weather way. She watched him make his way into the room, but pushed her head aside as so that his kisses landed against her neck at the talk of payment. Her brow furrowed. “A few hours? I thought the agreement was on completion.” It was hardly a warm reception, but she was one to triple check the details. “Am I missing something?”

SEB

The disappointment would have been clear on his face if she had been looking. Why had she turned away? Had he missed something? "It was," he replied, pulling back with a confused expression. "No, that was the agreement. You have all the details." But yes, it was a little later than immediate. "Getting out of there was a bit fraught unexpectedly, so I missed a check-in. Once I was out of the situation, though, I was able to call and clear things up. That's the delay. It was all worked out. I had proof and they were satisfied by it. Nothing to worry about."

KAITYA

Kat stood up from her seat, her piercing blue eyes focusing on him solely. There was no warmth in them, no kindness, but she did reach out a hand to let her fingers trace the line of his jaw. It was easier to read his face like this, keep him transparent rather than letting him close off again. “Why did you miss the check in?” Her tone didn’t match the meaning of are you okay, it was more of an annoyance than anything else. “Did they say when exactly this should be cleared up?” She bit her tongue as he told her not to worry, her eyes narrowing for the briefest second. She didn’t like to be coddled or kept away from business, even if that was his instinct. She knew this world far better than him after all.

SEBASTIAN

She stood and Sebastian wondered if he ought to take a step back. Before he could come to a conclusion, however, she was reaching out to trace his jaw. It couldn't be so bad, then. "I was being followed. Couldn't take my attention off them till I lost them for certain." He didn't like admitting failure, but it seemed like what she was asking for. "They said they'd look over the proof I'd sent and then wait a little while for the news reports to confirm it as well. They accepted the photos before I got on the plane and confirmed the money was coming." Her eyes narrowed briefly, furthering his confusion.

KAITYA

Her palm came to rest against his cheek, looking up at him. Studying every tiny movement. Again she dove in with questions that were missing any hint of concern, but it was so easy for him to hear them as kindness if he wanted to. “Who followed you? You lost them, so they’re still alive?” He didn’t know the very real danger that came with their new life, how could he? “The plane was already a couple of hours ago.” She pulled away from him, reaching for her glass of wine from the kitchen top for something to fiddle with. Better to use her nervous energy than let it show.

SEBASTIAN

He leaned into the touch, because at least that felt like it meant something despite the interrogation. The touch made it feel like she cared. "They never got a full view of my face." He couldn't really claim that, but he'd done his best. "I don't know exactly who they were. Just needed to get out of there. So they're still alive. I didn't have time to find them." He'd been warned of possible surveillance but as long as they stayed back and didn't engage, he'd been fine with it. It'd been pretty clear that he'd lost them completely. It was a risk of the job. "It was. So it'll probably be shortly that the money will come through." He hoped so, given her agitation.

KAITYA

She hummed, her disapproval clear this time. She let her back rest against the counter, using distance between them like a weapon again. Her glass was sitting lazily in her fingers, taking a small sip before she set it back down. “They? Do you even know who they were? And you still came home, what if they followed you Sebastian?” This was light accusation now, already working at twisting his words as he’d let her down. It was hard for her to figure out if she meant it or this was just another kind game. “Text your contact. Tell him that this isn’t good enough.” She didn’t know for sure whether the go between was a man, but in this line of work it was safe to assume. She knew enough of procedure after all.

SEBASTIAN

No way to misinterpret her actions now. She leaned back, no longer touching him. He'd have to close the distance himself, he assumed. "It was a pair. No - I told you, I didn't have time to investigate. I don't know who they were." He shook his head, stepping forward to be close to her, even if it did him to favors. "I know they didn't." He reached out, one hand framing her face. "I wouldn't put you in danger like that." He went for a forehead kiss this time, having a feeling that he wouldn't get away with much more. "What? Why?" It'd been Sebastian's mistake and he'd had no reason to doubt they'd deliver once it was all cleared up. Which it had been. "I could ask, but I'm hardly going to tell them to hurry up with paying me after I fucked up. It should come in soon, anyway."

KAITYA

“No- don’t say you told me. You tell me nothing.” That was it, the magic switch to get her to harden. She set her hand on his chest, holding him six inches or so away so that he couldn’t kiss her. He wasn’t going to charm his way into her bed, no. This was more important. “You might have. How could you possibly know? You left men who could see you, connect you to a job alive? You put us at risk- me at risk.” Kaitya corrected herself, because she knew what was more important to him. Sebastian was hardly a man of self preservation, she was case and point. Here was the woman he had fallen in love with, whip smart and terrifying. Yet she had told him over and over again she had so many reasons to be afraid. “Soon isn’t good enough, we have bills to pay. We have the cost of this house, this new life, where do you think that comes from? How do you think I have managed this, all for us? All for you?”

SEBASTIAN

"I told you just now." They were in for a fight now. "I can't tell you everything right away when I'm on a job, but I'm telling you now." She held him back, so Sebastian abandoned that particular pathway for the moment. He'd thought it'd work. He'd been away for so long and usually they could put everything aside at a time like this. "I was trained in reconnaissance and I have more practice now, after that. I know how to avoid a trace. I'm not an idiot." He sighed. She did have a point, but what was done was done. "If I had thought for a moment that I was endangering you, I wouldn't have come home. I promise." Keeping her safe was more important than anything. But that didn't mean he couldn't react with annoyance. "I know we do. It will come today, and we've got the advance pay. Shouldn't that cover plenty?" He was new, so he wasn't able to charge exorbitantly, but surely, what he'd already made ought to be good enough. "I'm the one bringing the money in, aren't I? The wire will go through. And then you can do your managing."

KAITYA

In theory, he was saying all the fight things, but he seemed to knuckle down enough to know the right was coming. Up until the end she had heard him out, but his tone rubbed her the wrong way. Like he was testing her on purpose. He had no idea how much planning had been involved and how belittling his attitude felt. “You are not stupid, the two aren’t mutually exclusive.” She kept her hand pressed to his chest, the bite in her voice growing but not raising the volume at all. “How would you know? When was the last time you stayed long enough to learn these things?” Not that she would let him, it was all meticulously planned so that he would never lay eyes on their bank balance. But maybe guilt would appeal to his need to be needed. “Don’t speak to me as if you understand what this is like. I risked everything for you, this is all I have now. You and this house.”

SEBASTIAN

"How many times can I tell you that I'm good at what I do? How many times do I need to say that I got out of that situation." He'd been as sure as he could be that he wasn't followed by the time he got to the airport. "How can I stay for extended periods of time when we're in such a state that I've got to be working as often as possible? You'd be kicking me out the moment two weeks passed." Maybe, maybe not. "I'm not sure if you really want me." That wasn't an insecurity and didn't sound like one. "I remember what you were like before I left for this job." Maybe not the exact words, but they'd fought, hadn't they? "And it's not like I didn't take risks myself, getting you out of there. I'm doing a lot to keep us fed. You won't lose the house, but - this makes me not want to stick around."

KAITYA

“A dozen more, apparently.” It was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but Kat couldn’t help herself. She let go of him, folding her arms across her chest as he got defensive. He had absolutely no proof that she would force him to work after an extended stay at home, even if it was true. He would never know that, because that would mean being observant. But her mood changed entirely at his admission of real doubts. There was no room for that. She took a step forwards, reaching for his jaw. But this time her hand wasn’t soft, her grip was like a vice on his chin. “I remember what you were like too. You were lost, and desperate. I stayed here alone because you left me. It’s always the same pattern, you can’t even see it can you?” She was getting carried away, she needed to be careful. “You take risks because you would die and leave me here to fend for myself. You know they would be looking for me, and you’d walk away? Just like that? That is a son his father should be ashamed of.”

SEBASTIAN

"Really, Kat?" Her holding him at arm's length hadn't been a comforting sort of touch, but the loss of it still felt like a break. What was he supposed to do if she decided to walk away for the night, to ignore him? He'd just gotten back and it seemed that he'd come to rely on her welcome. Perhaps he'd grieved the loss of her touch a moment too soon, as her grip on his jaw was immediate and might very well leave a bruise if she really dug her fingers. He'd seen it before - how could he not, when he worked with her family - but she'd never done it to him. He didn't attempt to pull out of her hold just yet. "I had to leave you. I don't want to leave you alone for so long, but it's necessary. I love you, you know that?" He didn't know how to answer, but he did try to jerk his chin out of her hold. "Let him be. I've already managed it so well so far." That was more bravado than anything. "I wouldn't - there's no one looking for you like this, I told you. You're safe here. We're safe here. What else can I do but walk away when it's clear you don't really want me? That's the thing. I'm not abandoning you to die."

KAITYA

It was tempting to push him even further. But she let that one slide with little more than a sigh. "You had to get your space. That's what this is, you don't love me. How am I supposed to know that, when this is how you greet me? You come home and accuse me of... or what? What is it you want, Sebastian? What would make you feel loved?" She knew the answer to his question, she had played that role perfectly. Vulnerable enough for him to protect, dangerous enough to be sexy but not a threat. It looked good on her, and it was easy. He moved his face out of her grip before she released him, and for a moment she was very aware this could be his reckoning. No, they weren't' there yet, surely? He still thought the red flags looked so romantic. "I don't feel safe without you. You'd really leave me here after everything?"

SEBASTIAN

"Doesn't everyone need space? But I also have to work or we'll be in a worse financial situation." And it wasn't like he could only just work locally. "I do, you know I do." She had to, he'd told her and he'd made it clear in other ways too. "I haven't accused you of anything! It's not an accusation to not be sure you care about me." He sighed. "I just want you to accept that I know what I'm doing. And just have a nice welcome for a little while. It's been a while and I've missed you." There were many other factors to what would make him feel loved, but Sebastian couldn't say everything in his mind at the moment. "I know. I kept you safe with your family and I'm trying to keep you safe now. But -" Was there really anything more to it? "If you don't really want me, I can still protect you without being around."

KAITYA

"You tell me you love me with one breath and then tell me you're done the next, what am I supposed to believe?" She wanted him to prove it. She wanted him to initiate something physical and close the space between them, that would be proof enough he was hers at least. "You are one man, and this is dangerous. It isn't a lack of talent, it's knowing what bad timing and someone with more resources can look like. You want a warm welcome? Come home with a way to change that." She was getting carried away. But the venom in her words was clear, this wasn't declarations of caring but thinly veiled threats. "Are you going to go then? Where will you go?"

SEBASTIAN

She had a point. "I can love you and still want to leave." But he didn't think that really applied in this case. "Believe what you will, since you're so good at assuming things." He wanted to kiss her, see if that would be a good start to getting this whole situation back on track, but she'd already pushed him away multiple times. Maybe it wasn't worth it. "I know it's just me, but there's only so much I can do because I am just one man." He shook his head, abandoning any attempts at reconciliation. "You don't even know how this works from my side. And here you are again, telling me to go - leave you to fix myself." Was he? What would he do when he walked out that door? What could he do? "Maybe I will." What else could he do? She was pushing him away, he was pushing himself away. He took a few steps back, intending to make it to the door and see what would happen next. "I'll figure it out. We figured this out, didn't we?"

KAITYA

Her eyes widened, a flicker of fear crossing her face. She had gone too far, let the facade show just enough he seemed to have ideas. As he stepped away, she followed, President like grip reaching out for the waistband of his jeans to start with and eventually wrapping across his hips to pull him in tight. Sex was a good way to get out of most fights, and if he wanted loving... There was no way on earth she was going to beg, she didn’t need to. Kaitya pulled him towards her and the countertop, pushing herself up to sit amongst the strewn papers. To sit above his eye level and look down on him. “Who would have you? Your family? Darling, your mother would be so disappointed- do you think she would still love you?” She pressed a kiss to his collarbone, her brain whirring. Her words never matched her actions, but this was war now. He had brought up independence and it needed to be crushed. “We? How much of this do you think you had an input in?”

SEBASTIAN

Was she truly afraid that she'd leave him? She might really be. Not that Sebastian had too long to consider how she might be feeling, as she pulled him towards her. He'd resolved to go, but he didn't fight against her pulling him close. Or at least not initially. He even stayed close once she'd let go to push herself up onto the counter, though his hovering was slightly more tense than usual. And yet he could not help but lean closer to her of his own will. Her next words broke the illusion. "I don't - I don't have to go back to them. I could do it on my own." Her words still cut deep, even as she kissed him. "Don't talk about my mother like that." She would be, Kat was right. But that was alright. He pushed her back, gently but firmly, taking a step or two away. "Don't tell me things like that and then kiss me." She was just trying to get him not to go. "Plenty of it," he replied, annoyed. "Didn't I tell you we should go?"

KAITYA

“It’s the truth.” She let him go, but she didn’t like the space between them or the annoyance in his voice. “You want to go? Then look at the reality of the situation. You are pushing me away because that is what you do to people who need you, who rely on you.”

SEBASTIAN

"That doesn't mean you have to say it." He knew it well enough on his own, and he certainly didn't like the reminder. "Yes. I want to go." It felt wrong to say it, but he'd made up his mind. "No. That's not what this is. You don't need me. Or - if you do, you just need me to need me. You don't actually want me around. You just like the benefits." It was cruel to say. "I don't want to have done all this just for nothing but criticism. Look, I've got my things, I'm just going to go."

KAITYA

“You’re not leaving me. You won’t do that.” She didn’t leave her perch, her cold blue eyes fully focused on him now. Her knuckles where white agains the counter, the tension in her body visible. “You’re not going.”

SEBASTIAN

A challenge. Her eyes were cold and hard, no traces of warmth to be found. So it really had been a ruse. "I am and I will. Watch me." He turned, fully intent on walking to the door and then out of it, though he turned back when she spoke. "I don't see you stopping me."

KAITYA

“No.” She said it in English this time, a language she made a point not to use. He turned back and she saw him linger, but his body read like he was serious. He was done. She switched back to Russian tilting her head to the side. “I thought more of you. I though you would not be the kind of man who would walk out on the mother of his child.”

SEBASTIAN

She never spoke English. It stopped him for a moment, but it could only last so long. Just another tactic and hardly an effective one. Of course she'd thought more of him. She'd said that before, that he was a disappointment, that - "What?" He stopped in his tracks. Just another tactic, it had to be, but he still stopped and turned back towards her. "Good thing we don't have one, then."

KAITYA

“Not yet.” There, now she had his attention. She reached behind her, into the rummage of things on the counter for the pregnancy test she had been avoiding. “I was waiting for the right time to tell you. I guess it should be now, since you’re going to leave me and your baby here for whatever happens next.”

SEBASTIAN

"We - you said you were taking something." She had, hadn't she? It wasn't like he watched her every move. He approached, still keeping his distance, but it got him that much closer to her. "What? You can't possibly be - is it even mine? You're not going to - are you sure?" She was holding a test, though, so maybe there was some truth to it.

KAITYA

“You think I’ve been cheating on you?” That was what she jumped to, because it was easier than answering a very valid question about her birth control. “I ran away with you, I left everything to be with you and this is how you react? I thought you loved me. You keep saying that like it’s supposed to be true-“ she tossed the test, with a perfect plus sign across the room so he could see for himself. “It’s right there. They want me to go in for a scan in two weeks, I was waiting to make the appointment until you would be there.”

SEBASTIAN

"No, but - I just -" he had to ask somehow, because he couldn't possibly be a father. It just wasn't possible. "I do love you." He had to say it, as many times as she asked him to. "I do, but I never said I wanted kids." He was pretty sure he'd even said that he didn't want them. Outright. He was about to protest more, but he had to stop and catch the test she threw at him. Pretty clearly positive. "How far along? An appointment? Surely you're not thinking about keeping it."

KAITYA

She reached out for her glass of wine, taking a sip and crossing her legs from her position above him. “I don’t think I believe you anymore.” Not unless he buckled, unless he tried to prove it with his affection. “Eight weeks maybe, ten at a push I think. They’ll know for sure at the scan.”

SEBASTIAN

"I do." And now, despite the way he'd been nearly out the door, he somehow needed to prove it to her. He could have accused her of making it up just to keep him there, but the test told the truth on its own. He was torn between still leaving and staying now. If she was pregnant, then - but did it actually matter? They didn't have to have a child. It wasn't as if the timeline didn't match up with when he'd been home. He came closer, closing the distance between them easily to take her face in his hands. "I do love you, but we are not having a child. Because I'm not staying. I didn't want this."

KAITYA

She leant into him, into his palm, sitting her glass down to concede now he was willing to be soft. Soft- but still so damn stubborn. She finally lean forwards, pressing her lips to his in a long kiss. A kiss to convince him this was real, she would be everything he needed and more. Kat lowered her voice to a whisper, scanning every inch of his face to be sure. “Don’t make me do this on my own, this is ours. We made a life, why would you choose to end it? I am here my love, here with your baby in our home now...”

SEBASTIAN

It had been a mistake to come closer. The closer he was, the more his conviction to leave wavered. She leaned in to kiss him, something he'd been waiting for. If their life was this more of the time, maybe he wouldn't be having these doubts. The soft way that she spoke kept him in place, both to hear and to be close to her. "I don't want to become my father," he said. He had told her this before. "Better that I'm gone than run that risk. Plus, like you said, it's a dangerous life. Why would you put a child in danger like that when you're scared for yourself?" That said, he leaned in for another kiss. "I can't stay." But now he really ought to find a solution for her.

KAITYA

"You won't. You know you won't." She punctuated every word with kisses to his jaw, dotting his face with love and care like he wanted. He was winning, or at least he could feel like he was. Her arms moved to the back of his neck as their lips met again, drawing him in still. "You can't go."

SEBASTIAN

"I -" he trailed off. "I will." She was right, though. This is what he'd wanted when he'd gotten home. Not the fight, not the revelation that she was pregnant, but exactly this - the way she was lavishing kisses along his jawline. He would go. Just not yet. She wrapped her arms around his neck, keeping him there and pulling him closer. "I have to," he murmured against her lips. "I could never be a father." Hard to say. But really, he couldn't. "How long will this last?" he asked her after yet another kiss. "How long until you start telling me I'm not worth the effort?"

KAITYA

She felt him, still trying to convince himself that his instinct was right even against her kisses. He was wavering, just not enough. His breath on her face was a feeling of power she had never known. There was no chance he would be allowed to walk away. Every time he broke away he was stuck in a loop of questioning she tried to fill by pulling him closer. "Shhhhhhh," She kissed him yet again, trying to soothe him into submission. "Come here my love."

SEBASTIAN

No answer. Maybe she didn't know. maybe there was no way of knowing. Bad days weren't always the end of the world, especially when she kept pulling him closer. He wanted - he wanted to just give in to this. Let himself be pulled in the way he always did. He couldn't help but press closer, almost desperately. This is what he'd wanted. "I love you." But he should go. He should go, even if it felt like his reasons for leaving had crumbled to nothing. "I'm here." He was and he didn't know if he could go through with leaving. He should just tell her to make the appointment, that he'd be there. But he didn't want this child. It was hard to concentrate like this, but he had to remember that. He had to remember what she'd done. "No." he pulled away, finally. "I can't. I can't, not when you've just sprung this on me."

KAITYA

Finally he was melting, thawing, giving in to her. Although it didn't seem to last. She moved her hands down his collar to his face as he pulled back, sweet declarations of love turning to something else. This was her final straw. She narrowed her eyes at him, getting a good look this time. "I told you, I was trying to find the right time. Did you want to hear it through a phone whilst you were working? Or would you rather I let you walk out and leave your kid behind to grow up without you? Think this through, darling, don't make stupid choices."

SEBASTIAN

Her eyes narrowed and she was no longer in the business of seduction. This was what made him want to go. She was just doing this to keep him there, to reduce his willpower. "You did. But eight to ten weeks - wasn't I around? Did you know before I left?" Not that he knew exactly how this worked, but shouldn't she have known? "It would have given me time to prepare. I don't know, you could have even waited till tomorrow or something. Are you trying to distract me from leaving with this? This isn't the right time." He sighed because she did have a point. Maybe he'd rather know. "I don't think I'd add anything to the life of my child. And again, there's no way it's safe. It's stupid to keep it and I'm not going to just stick around and ruin this kid's life even more." There. He could do it. He could walk away.

KAITYA

"Maybe? I wasn't sure, I didn't want to be. Not till I could share it with you. I didn't want to go through it on my own, can't you see that?" He wasn't sure whether to feel defeated or not, and that gave her some ground to play with. "Don't. Don't say that."

SEBASTIAN

“You could have said something then, even if it was just a thought.” And he’d have fought then too, but it could have been different. “I know but now - it just doesn’t feel like you care about that. It’s just because you don’t want me to go.” And it did feel nice to be wanted, but it wasn’t the same. “I’m going,” he told her, pulling out of her reach. “I have to.”

KAITYA

“I didn’t-“ She cut herself off as he pulled away this time, slipping out of her reach and heading for the hall. This was it. Battle stations. She immediately moved off the counter, the last of her glass of wine falling onto the surface and covering her papers as she did to. It didn’t matter anymore. She was behind him, beside him, all signs of love obliterated from her body. She caught him by the wrist, her grip like a vice. “You can’t. You walk out that door and you are dead man Sebastian Moran.”

SEBASTIAN

He heard the glass fall, but didn’t bother turning around. Not till she caught him, the grip around his wrist bruising, something he wouldn’t be able to get out of without some effort. He pulled away for a moment, but gave up when she spoke, brow furrowing in confusion. “Are you threatening me?” What could she do? She was strong, yes, but he was stronger and he didn’t think she had a gun on her. “Why can’t I?” He asked, trying to pull out of her grip again.

KAITYA

Kaitya didn’t let go, stepping closer to force him to put his back against the wall if he wanted to avoid her touch. “I would never do that. I’m just being honest. If you go, they’ll be looking for you. My family will want back the money you stole, they won’t be forgiving. You should know.”

SEBASTIAN

He believed her when she said she wouldn’t kill him, and that was the worst part of it. He backed away as she approached, determined to not get distracted. His back his the wall. Maybe she would kill him. “They -“ oh. Her family? “The money I stole? I didn’t steal anything from them. Just you.” He knew what her family did to those who had slighted them - he’d carried out some of those revenge jobs. “I didn’t take anything from them,” he repeated, “what are you talking about?”

KAITYA

“The night you took me, remember?” He had no way to remember, of course she didn’t. He was still so oblivious, backed into a corner and caught off guard. She kept her tight grip on his wrist. “You left after millions had been wire transferred to an offshore account in the Cayman Islands, and her half their wealth. And you left a note, there on my fathers desk to let him know if anyone came looking you would slit my throat.” Only now she had made her point did she let go, knowing her fingerprints would be inked purple into his skin over the coming days.

SEBASTIAN

“I don’t, I didn’t do that.” His back was pressed up against the wall. Nowhere to go. “I didn’t do that,” he said, with increasing horror at what she was telling him. He hadn’t done any of that. But even half of what she was describing would bring down her family’s wrath like a hammer. “Did you do that?” As she let go, all he could do was let his wrist fall against his side. “I would never hurt you like that - Kaitya, what did you do?”

KAITYA

“You know exactly what you did Sebastian, don’t lie to me! It was clear in that letter, I was to be insurance that no one would follow you. It was money you felt you had earned, after all you had done for them.” She’d crafted it carefully, there was a plan before she had even met him. Maybe a plan was excessive, but the seeds of one for sure. Her exit had to be foolproof and most of all, completely untraceable. It have her a certain level of protection she could use. She stared back at him, watching him closely. “You know you can’t just leave, not when you’re infamous.”

SEBASTIAN

“I didn’t do any of that!” He would have known if he did. There had been countless details to the plan, but he wouldn’t have forgotten a note like that or a huge money transfer. “I’m not lying. Either you did that or someone else did, but I really didn’t do it. I mean - insurance? I did this because I love you.” He was back to appealing to her desperately. He stated at her, searching her face, trying to understand what was going on. “I don’t understand.” He was infamous? Maybe that was why there’d been trouble getting himself established. “What do you want from me?” She had to be lying, but he couldn’t find any evidence of that in her tone.

KAITYA

She was emotionless, apart from a spark in her eyes that was as dangerous as an ember , it could be a forest fire in seconds, with the right kindling. “Stop denying it. There isn’t anywhere you can hide expect here, with me. That’s all we both want, isn’t it?”

SEBASTIAN

He didn’t know what she would say next but her expression promised only trouble. “I can’t say I did something I didn’t do. I didn’t write that note. I don’t even know how to access your family’s accounts like that.” She’d been the one doing financial things, hadn’t she? “Is it? I didn’t think - I didn’t think hiding was - Kat, please explain.”

KAITYA

“Just stop it, stop trying to act like you didn’t know. It was so clear, you were sneaking around for months, using me to get what you wanted. All that time getting close to me...” she didn’t need to play it so well, but this was her moment. She stood up a little straighter, her chest a little more puffed. Not quite enough to read as proud, but she was pleased with her hard work and the grafting that had gotten them this far.  “Who would believe you? You were the one in charge after all.”

SEBASTIAN

"I didn't know. I've told you again and again that I didn't know. I wasn't using you. I love you, I promise that's all I just wanted you to be happy. And safe. I wasn't using you for anything." He stood there, petrified almost, his wrist sore where she'd held him. "I have no skills with transfers like that, with stealing money or anything. I couldn't do it a second time because I didn't do it a first time. They gave you some trust, more than they'd give just an employee." Who would believe him? Who could he tell? Who could he run to? "Someone might."

KAITYA

Someone might. As if on commanded, her eyes started to water, her shoulders faltering. Within seconds, her lashes were wet with tears, streaming down her face and onto her shirt. Big, cinematic tears that made her look beautiful and vulnerable even as she cried. Her bottom lip trembled gently, wobbling as if she was about to fall apart. “Papa- Papa I thought he loved me. I thought he was doing what you asked and when I realised it was just t-too late.. and there’s the baby Papa...” And then it stopped. She wiped away the crocodile tears with her fingertips and gave a small sniff, straightening up again. “Who? Go on, who would listen to you when the truth is so convincing?”

SEBASTIAN

The moment he said those two words, her eyes watered, tears falling instantly. Sebastian didn't know what to do. What had he said? How had he upset her? He started to take a step forward to try to fix his mistake, but then she began to speak, acting out just what she must have planned in case they got caught. "I do - I do love you. I just wanted you to be safe." He'd said that already. Sebastian had no defenses left. Just as fast as she'd started crying, the tears stopped. She stood tall once more and he stared down in what might very well be horror. "I -" he admitted it didn't look good. Though - he raised the wrist she'd held, marks already forming. "You made these bruises," he said, as if that would be worth anything.

KAITYA

He wanted to play games? How cute. “Did I? You just got home from a job, how do you know those aren’t showing up now after you had to deal with things earlier?” The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile, a small soft one. She could still be kind, especially when he was insisting he loved her still. She took a step forward to where he stood frozen in shock and terror, cupping his cheek. “I love you too, don’t you see that?”

SEBASTIAN

She had an answer for everything. "But - I - there wasn't enough contact with anyone for this sort of thing." It wasn't a good enough argument. There was no one who could corroborate his argument and he did work a dangerous job that could easily lead to this. "Because I know what happened." But only he did. She smiled at him and Sebastian didn't know what to feel or how. He could only watch as she stepped forward to touch him. He didn't lean into the touch like last time, though. He couldn't - this was too much. He had nowhere to go, so he pushed her away instead. "Do you? Do you really?"

KAITYA

He had nothing, and he knew it. She took another calculated step forwards again, pushing him back against the wall. Maybe it was just proof she held all the power. Kaitya ignored all his reasoning, she didn't need to confirm his train of thought. What witnesses? He couldn't track the men who had been following him, and there was no evidence. That was the point after all. If it was her word against his, she would win every time. She let her thumb graze over his cheekbones, her chest full with something. Pride, possession, victory? Adoration? It all looked the same. Her free right hand reached out, her touch soft on his injured arm. She placed it against her stomach, her palm over the back of his hand to hold it there. So he had no choice. Sebastian needed to hear her say it again, because it was such a rare admission. "I love you. I want our future, our family. I'd do anything for you darling, anything for us."

SEBASTIAN

She didn’t bother countering him, clearly aware that he was vainly grasping at straws. Instead, she pressed closer, forcing him even more against the wall. There was no escape, that was clear now. She had her family, an excuse, a baby. All the cards possible while he had nothing. She ran her thumb over his cheek gently. He jerked his head away as much as he could without slamming his skull into the wall. She shouldn’t look so proud.

He almost pulled his wrist out of her grip, but didn’t want to risk more bruises for the time being. So he didn’t have to look into her eyes, he stared at his hand as it rested on her stomach. There was a baby in there. One they could never properly raise. He didn’t want it and he couldn’t ever see himself doing a good job as a parent. His gaze snapped back up at she spoke. He wanted to push her away. She loved him. He pulled his hand back from her stomach. “I can’t believe you’d set me up and then say you’d do anything.”  He reached out to push her away, just to give himself a little more space to think. He couldn’t leave, but he just needed some space.

KAITYA

Her eyebrows showed her confusion as he jerked his head away, trying to be defiant in the face of the inevitable. But she didn't let it go, her hand following his face right up until she felt herself being pushed away. He was done, and he had no way to admit his defeat. This had to feel like a win, like he had some choice now the facts of the matter had been laid bare at his feet. She moved with his hands, letting him push her back to give himself breathing room. His hand might have left her stomach but she clutched at it still. She thought about heading back to the kitchen but that felt like too far given the circumstances. No, the way he had immediately rushed to her side when he thought for a second her fear had been genuine, that was the reaction she was after. Slower this time, so that it looked genuine, she let her eyes fill with saltwater. The tears rolled one by one, silently down her face. No need to act too afraid- this was about vulnerability not weakness. He liked the strength, he just liked playing saviour more. She gave a small sniff, her gaze falling from him to the floor. "If you knew how much I loved you, you'd never break my heart like this Sebastian."

SEBASTIAN

Why couldn't she just let go? She didn't pull back, just looked confused at why he'd even bother to try to get out of her grasp. As long as she was touching him, she was there and he couldn't help but think about everything they'd done for each other. When he pushed her away, she still held his hand and he couldn't bring himself to pull out of her grip. It didn't cross his mind that these tears might be just as fake as the ones from before. She wasn't supposed to cry - she was supposed to keep pressing on. He'd seen how strong she could be. But he'd also seen her alone after having to deal with her family. Maybe he'd been too harsh. He had to fix this. The combination of love and tears was somehow believable. Maybe because she'd given him space. He reached forward with his free hand to cup her cheek, wiping at the tear tracks. "I love you," he told her. "It's just a lot all at once." A child, her machinations, everything. "I don't want to hurt you." He couldn't leave. He believed her when she said it, when she described everything that had happened. And maybe she was truly afraid of what would come to him and to her and their child. Their child. Fuck. "I'll stay," he told her softly. What other choice did he have? It was better to be on good terms. And maybe they could talk about the baby later. "It's alright."

KAITYA

He saw the fragility he wanted, the drive in him to act like the hero was too strong. Despite everything else in his life that tried to label him as the bad guy, Sebastian Moran wanted to do the right thing. Maybe it was testament to how far she could keep pushing him. There was something familiar about her big sad blue eyes though, they were the same ones she had used when getting to his heart in the first place. Bent over a desk in the study or curled in his arms in her bed. One look and he was ready to fight the world for her, ready to give his life if needed. He wanted to dry her tears and that was real. She let them keep on rolling, into his fingers like he was her knight in shining armour. "I know- I know that. How do you think I feel? I-It's a lot." No it wasn't. It was enough to overwhelm him, but a casually calculated move on her part. An easy choice really. "You did though. I thought I could trust you- I thought you'd always be there for me. You're everything to me now, you know that, right?" It always had to end in a question, a way to get him to confirm her brainwashing. She pulled his over arm around her waist, wanting to be in his embrace. The less space between them gave him less to think about. She pressed her face into his chest, soaking his shirt. Her shoulders heaved with a fake swallowed sob. "I-I can't lose you."

SEBASTIAN

The tears kept falling - no  sudden change like last time. They had to be much more real, didn't they? But he really didn't know how to consider the machinations that may or may not behind her actions when he was still being confronted by her crying. She ought to stop, shouldn't she? Wasn't this weakness? But at the same time, he'd been the one she was supposed to go to when she was in danger or anything like that. So really, he couldn't get angry at her for it. "I'm sure it is." Given that she was the one actually carrying what could be their child, he supposed it was. They were both transplants into a new place, but he'd taken her from her family. It was different for her. It had to be. He still couldn't apologize for it, but he could at least try to fix things. "I know." It wasn't like they'd moved to somewhere she could blend into comfortably. She spoke English, sure, but not willingly, and she hadn't grown up anywhere nearby. He at least had some perspective on where they were. "I'm here. I'll be here." What choice did he have? He dismissed that thought. She leaned in closer, making him hold her, a gesture that he let her do, holding her closer once it was clear what she wanted. She hid her face from him, in his shirt - he could feel the tears starting to soak through. He held her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You won't." She'd made it so he couldn't, but maybe he could resign himself to that. Had he ever really wanted to leave? "I'm here." He leaned back a moment, tipping her head up to meet her eyes. "We'll figure it out, okay?"

KAITYA

Her tears dissolved the moment she was against his chest, her eyes drying back up before it started to look puffy and unattractive. Before he could start to question how soft she really was. Once his hands had settled, she thread hers around his waist to hold him in return. Her grip was loose and gentle, like he could pull away of he wanted. But he wouldn’t want to. He never would. His kind reassurances, his low voice barley above a whisper, this was what glorious triumph looked like. The slow victory lap now she had her prize. He pressed kisses against her hair like she was a child, like he needed to make up for the horrible blow he had dealt and she smiled on the inside. His love was so easy to bend. As he moved to get a better look, Kaitya blinked a couple of times to clear her sight fully. “I know. I trust you.” She wasn’t going to use that one again for a long time, but he had earned a small piece of the reward here. A crumb of affection would be enough to remind him what it was worth when he was starving. She lent in to press her lips to his, kissing him like she missed him. For the first time since he had come home, she was showing him why it was he always came back. Slow and intimate, like lovers should kiss. She stopped only to press her forehead to his, her hand moving to the back of his neck to put him on her level. “You have had a long day. Let me make you dinner, have a rest. Get out of those clothes.”

SEBASTIAN

She blinked up against him, clearing away any remaining tears. "Good." She probably should. "I'll try to be sure you can." It wasn't like he ever intended on deceiving her. She was the one who'd lied - but there was no undoing that. And he still loved her. So what could he do but stay? It wasn't like he wanted to die. And he still loved her. Kaitya leaned up to kiss him, not even needing to pull him close this time. She had him. If only she'd have done this right when he'd gotten home. Things might have been simpler that way. But they'd gotten to that point now, and everything would be alright for a little while longer. She pulled him in now, pressing their foreheads together. "Thank you." God, he really was tired. He'd pushed that aside when they'd been fighting, but it was all crashing back down now. He kissed her one more time, drawing it out as long as he could. Finally, he pulled back a little bit more. "I'll go shower. I'll help you with anything when I'm out."

[mtvswatches]

Wynonna Earp 3x05 Jolene

Click here for previous recaps!

Stray thoughts

1) Okay, so I got it 100% right. Mama Gibson was trying to protect Waverly.

A demon has been stalking your sister ever since she was a baby. By the time she was six, I knew that it wanted to torture her and kill her. And I knew that it would win. I was trying to exorcise it when the barn caught fire. And instead, it became bound to me. It has been torturing me ever since for what I'd done. It broke me. That is what you see. (…) You let Waverly come and visit me. She touched me and she broke the bind. The demon escaped.

2) If Jolene is this demon that has been trying to murder Waverly since she was a baby, why is it wasting time baking cupcakes and pretending to be family?

Is she bidding her time for something…? And again, what is Waverly? Why would a demon want to murder her since the moment she was born?

3) So this Jolene is keeping everyone under her spell by feeding them some super tasty pastries, but it seems they’re not working that effectively on Doc. What are her pastries laced with? Will it be like in Buffy’s Ted, where they were laced with ecstasy or something to keep everyone mellow, jolly and compliant? Or will this be a more supernatural, demonic type of drug? Anyway, Doc does get through to Wynonna and tells her how he went to hell and apparently acquired super hellish hearing there and was able to hear the demon in Mama Gibson’s therapy tapes, which gives some credit to her story.

4) “Sometimes dream can be like that…?” Really, Waverly? Three seasons and you come up with this explanation for the supernatural? I've raised you better than that!

5) Me:

6) So, Revenants got nothing on Jolene. And I wonder, how did Bobo play into this whole thing? His name needs to be brought up, right? I mean, he promised to protect Waverly because of what Wynonna did when she time travelled, but still, if he was protecting Waverly that whole time, he must have run into this demon once or twice, right?

7) Why is Jolene letting them go, when Michelle clearly said she will try the binding spell again…? What’s this gal’s goal here? She can’t be here just to bake pastries and overshare everyone’s intimate secrets, right?

8)

JOLENE: I mean, does she really need a mortal bartender with half a lung and a probable mood disorder dragging her down?

The look of disappointment on his face, though.

9) So this is the moment that Waverly chose to ask her mom about her real dad? Right before they perform a demon-binding spell? Seems about right. And we learned exactly two things about him: A) his name was Julian, and B) he was someone better – whatever that means. So… if he was someone “better”, then he wasn’t a revenant, right? Does this mean Waverly is half something else? Something good? Like an angel, maybe? Or a fairy? Men can be fairies, too, it’s 2020.

10) Some answers, at last. Jolene can’t physically harm Waverly herself, that’s probably why she bound herself to Michelle and had her attempt to murder Waverly, repeatedly. And that’s why she’s allowing them to do the binding spell again, right?

And Jolene is in serious need of a facial and a dentist’s appointment…

11) So, Jolene tricked all the Earps into believing the demon was this loser revenant – who I think was actually trying to warn them against her? – and she is now gaslighting Waverly and turning everyone against her?

12) I get that she is a demon, but does she have to be such a duplicitous bitch, going behind everyone’s back and telling everyone’s secrets? Because I feel she does that because it’s fun, I don’t see how it helps her with her plan. And now Wynonna found out Kate is Doc’s former wife…

13) I KNEW IT!

I knew he needed to be brought back for this episode! And he’s demanding to see Waverly! Let’s hope he delivers some answers!

At least, he let Doc know what Bulshar is after – the ring that Nicole hid oh so perfectly well in the woods.

14) Oh, fucking Jolene got Wynonna to call Waverly half-sister, that’s crossing a line!

15) !!!

16) !!!!

Is this Slapgiving or what?!

Jolene is basically Yoko-factoring everyone and it’s equally fun and annoying. And I guess she got Wynonna and Michelle right where she wanted them, in jail, where they can’t help Waverly. On the bright side, Nicole didn’t give them the treats Jolene sent them, which should clear up their minds.

17) And now Nicole is yelling at Waverly and making her feel like shit, and she’s being super mean, but… some of the things she says feel like she’s been holding them back for a long time, you know? But I don’t like seeing them like this, angry and crying and screaming at each other. This whole glamour had better not affect their real relationship.

18) Kate reads Jolene’s fortune, and she warns her that she needs to pay her debt and that “he” is coming. Is this “he” Bulshar?

19) All this debacle led to Waverly surmising that, given the fact that the demon appeared when she was born, she might be the demon herself… Is this how Jolene will get her to try to kill herself, since she can’t harm Waverly?

20) Is this bitch really coming onto Nicole?????? And the thing that got her to show her true intentions was the fact that Nicole rejected her? OMG! And she got burnt by Bulshar’s ring, which mysteriously reappared in Waverly’s room, somehow?

21) It’s fitting that Wynonna open up to her mom about giving up her daughter in order to protect her since it really feels like history keeps repeating itself. Michelle assures her that it was the right choice, and while Wynonna is not convinced and I think nothing anyone could ever say will make her feel any less guilty, it must give her some reprieve to know that her mom made the same call when confronted with a similar conundrum.

22) Finally, Michelle and Wynonna come out of their pastry-filled stupor and realize that they haven’t killed the demon and that Waverly is still in danger. But Jolene has already gotten to her, and she’s still playing this mean-girl mind-games…

23) “The real baby was special…” but SPECIAL HOW?! Jolene keeps making Waverly believe that she’s evil, that she’s a demon, that her father was a demon, but I know it’s the opposite of all of that…

If I got it right, Jolene was born at the same time that our special, pure Waverly was – as an evil twin. They’re bound in some sense, and it seems Jolene can only be free if Waverly dies, that’s why she’s been trying to kill her since the day she was born. But why would one of the twins know this and not the other? Anyway, I need to know what the non-human half of Waverly is! She’s special and good, but supernaturally speaking, what is she? An angel? I can’t think of any other good, special supernatural beings...

24) Jolene almost got her to kill herself, but Waverly remembered…

And I really love how their sisterly love is always the core of this show.

I also love that she didn’t need any rescuing, she overcame Jolene all on her own.

25) So… Michelle was about to kill Jolene or whatever, and then…

The murder trees got her and she said “the girl was for you”, and then she mentioned Bulshar, so…? Does this mean that Bulshar needs Waverly dead? And are these the same murder trees that we saw in the previous episode? So are they working for Bulshar?

26) Now, this? This is how I like my Waverly and Nicole.

27) I knew he wouldn’t let me down…

DOC: I have come with something you desire. Something I will never relinquish. And I will never stop fighting for them. Whatever it takes, I will do. Even this. I am Doc Holliday. I do not fear the void. I spit into the void. So it seems, Bulshar, we do have an accord. I may be going to hell... But I will drag you with me.

He’s an idiot, but he didn’t let me down.

28) HA! I KNEW IT!!!!!!!!!

Finally, some proper answers!!!

29) A very fun and tense episode with a HUGE revelation nearly three season coming. I’m really interested to see what this will mean for Waverly’s arc, you know? She’s half angel, so this must have some supernatural implications for her apart from revenants and Bulshar and Jolene wanting to murder her. Do angels have any powers in this universe? Can a half angel inherit some of those? I’m VERY excited about this!

I also feel like I need to make a point about how I feel when I get some of predictions right with this show, which has happened a couple of times. I have to say it’s satisfying because it doesn’t feel like the show is being obvious or tropey or too on the nose about the storylines. On the contrary, they make a great job of keeping you guessing. But once they do reveal what they were keeping hidden, it always, always makes sense. So when I get a prediction right, I feel satisfied because it’s the show doing the storytelling right - instead of playing predictable tropes, you know? Anywho, super excited about the next episode! And I really want to finish season 3 so that I can start watching season 4 live!

30)  Hope you enjoyed my recap, and, as usual, if you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi. Thanks!

[asterythm]

A is for Amour || Prince of Your Dreams (7)

Pairings: Slow burn Logicality, eventual Prinxiety Word Count: 3.9k Chapter Summary: "Once upon a time in a far-off kingdom, there lay a small village at the edge of the woods..." So the story begins, as Roman’s heard repeated hundreds of times before. But every fairy tale must have its villain -- now, who could that possibly be? Chapter Warnings: emotionally abusive/manipulative character originally inspired by Deceit, gaslighting, food mention

<< First Chapter || < Previous Chapter || Read this chapter on AO3

***

Auburn.

That was the colour of Roman Foley’s hair, a lovely kind of cross between red and brown and gold and all the other warm and fiery tones in between. It was already quite a handsome colour during the daytime, but right now it looked positively gorgeous (a fact that certainly hadn’t escaped Roman’s notice). The warm light cascading downwards from the street lamp above Roman’s head gave the impression that there was a fiery halo of sorts framing his face, illuminating his features with an almost otherworldly glow. 

But of course, he wasn’t just standing around for the sake of looking good; he’d just wanted to be able to see his friends’ faces as he talked to them. Though it was biting cold out and Roman knew that he had a limited amount of time before he had to head to rehearsals, it was only a couple of minutes extra that Roman wanted to spend chatting — surely that would be okay. 

Besides, Roman’s best friend Kai Brenton was in the middle of the funniest story, and Roman didn’t want to leave without finding out how it ended.

“…so then I told her, that’s not a weasel, that’s my sister!” finished Kai, a wide grin on his face. Roman laughed again, loudly. 

Not all of them found the punchline quite so amusing, though. On the other side of Roman, another of his friends spoke up between sips of green tea. “Uh, pause, pause, pause — you have a sister? How come you never told us about her?” Remy Somnus asked.

“What? What made you think I had a sister?”

“That was the whole point of the joke, Rem,” said Elliot, elbowing his fraternal twin in the ribs. “Come on, were you even listening at all?”

Remy scoffed as he drained the last dregs of tea from his plastic Starbucks cup. “Okay, whatever, my bad. You know I love you, Brenton babe, but I had more important things on my mind.” He took careful aim before throwing the cup in a graceful arc through the air. It landed in the snow next to the trash can he’d been shooting for. “Dang.”

“Yeah, it’s chill. You know I don’t really care.” Kai gave his sassy friend first a shrug, then a punch on the shoulder.

“Ow! Hey, you just said you don’t care!” protested Remy. Rubbing at his sore shoulder, he looked between Elliot and Kai. “What’s with all the violence today?”

“I meant that I don’t care about you not listening; littering is a whole ‘nother story. Pick up your trash, moron. Mother Nature works hard to protect us. You’d probably have better aim if you weren’t wearing those sunglasses all the time, by the way.”

Remy did as he was told, jogging over to grab the cup… but not without protest. “Okay, seriously? Is no one gonna, like, ask me about what I was talking about just now?” Roman’s ever-sassy friend loudly complained over his shoulder in a mock-annoyed tone of voice. “Like, with the whole more important things on my mind thing? I’m gonna be honest, I’m feeling a little unappreciated here.” Remy bent down to pick up the plastic cup, tossed it into the bin, and made his way back to the group. “But, you know, any of you could speak up right now. And make me feel not unappreciated. It would be, like super easy to satisfy the curiosity that’s probably… burning inside of you right now. You just have to ask.” 

A pause. 

“Oh my gosh, do I have to spell it out for you guys? Why do I even try? I don’t even know why I try. Seriously, all you’ve gotta do is say —” 

Fondly grinning, Roman interrupted his friend. “Hey, Remy, what were you talking about just now with the whole more important things on your mind thing?”

“Aha — there we go, thank you!” Remy glared at Elliot and Kai. “See, guys, this is why Roman is, like, a hundred times better than all of you combined.”

Out of the corner of his mouth, Roman mumbled, “Sometimes I feel like you’re even more dramatic than I am, Remy.”

“No way anyone could ever be more dramatic than you, hun,” quietly shot back Remy before he cleared his throat to address all three of them. “I’m so glad you asked. See, the thing is, you ladies have all been acting real stressed out lately, about school or work or home stuff or whatever, and TBH it’s really stressing me out too. You know we can’t have that. Stress makes you wrinkle up. So I took it upon myself to head down to my favourite club, the good ol’ Lemon Lime Loophole, and I rented out a private karaoke room for us four.“ As Remy spoke, Roman watched both Kai and Elliot perk up with delight. Remy continued, “Just a fun night out to relax and unwind. Dear Britney Spears knows it’s been too long since our last karaoke night, and you all obviously really need it.”

“Hang on, did you actually?” exclaimed Elliot, eyes gleaming. 

“Remy, that’s perfect!” Next to him, Kai bounced gleefully up and down. “Aah, this is gonna be so much fun!”

“I know, I know, I’m the best. Say thank you, Remy…”

“Thank you, Remy!” Kai and Elliot chorused like little children, almost in perfect unison with each other, before returning to their enthusiastic babbling, faster and louder until they were almost tripping over every word before flying to the next. 

Roman, in the meantime, said nothing at all.

But none of his friends noticed Roman’s uncharacteristic silence: Kai and Elliot were already enthusiastically working out a list of songs they wanted to get through before the end of the evening, and Remy was busy soaking in the praise, obviously pleased with himself and the positive response to his brilliant idea.

After preening for another moment or two, Remy said, “Come on, let’s hurry. We’ve got twenty minutes to get there or they’ll give away our reservation to someone else. I’ll drive, cool?” 

That was when Roman finally spoke up. “Guys…” he began. “I’d love to come along — really, I would. But I have a rehearsal today, remember? For Into the Woods . You didn’t forget, did you?” He was dismayed to see the joy in his three friends’ faces immediately fizzle out.

“…Well, damn,” mumbled an uncharacteristically spiritless Remy at last. “I did forget. Sorry, Roman.”

(Yeah, thought Roman — though of course he didn’t say anything out loud — I kind of figured as much.)

“Maybe — maybe we can reschedule!” It was Kai this time, trying (and failing) to hide his disappointment. “We’ll find another time when we can all go together.”

“Wait, what? No! No, that’s not what I’m saying at all!” Roman spluttered in surprise. “No, you guys can totally go ahead. Don’t let me stop you! I mean, yes, I wish I could be there with you, but just because I’m not coming doesn’t mean you have to give up on this, too.”

“But… I don’t want you to feel bad about missing out.”

“Honestly, it would just make me feel way worse if I knew that you skipped out on your karaoke night just to make me feel better.”

Elliot hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, positive!” Roman said, much more confidently than he felt. He forced a smile. Showing any kind of weakness or doubt was out of the question; he had to convince Remy, Elliot and Kai that it really was okay for them to go ahead without him, and the only way he was sure he could convince them was by convincing himself of the same thing. It was undeniably easy to tell how much his friends wanted to do this. Roman was determined not to let his own scheduling conflict stop them. “Go on, go have fun. Just promise me you’ll do something from Hamilton for me, okay?”

“...Okay,” Kai finally agreed after a long pause. “Thanks, Roman.”

“And Remy has to be Peggy.”

“Hey — what? Hell no!” 

“Relax, Rem, I was kidding! Agh! Don’t hurt me!”

***

“I must have her —”

Prince Charming paused dramatically, taking a deep breath before raising his chin and hardening his features into a resolute mask —

“— to wife…“

Holding the ending note (a high one, for sure, but nothing that he couldn’t handle), Prince Charming stood from the painted drama box he’d been sitting on and crossed the stage to meet up with the Other Prince. One strong and rich, the other clear and sweet, their voices together formed a beautiful blend to fill every square inch of previously empty space in the rehearsal room.

Prince Charming made eye contact with his scene partner a beat before the music cut off. He grinned. The Other Prince grinned back.

A second of silence.

And then the scene was over, and Prince Charming was Roman and the Other Prince was Kyle again, and the silence was broken by the sound of sparse applause from a handful of the other cast members who had been watching the duet play out. It wasn’t the first time that they had gone through the song without any mistakes or silly little slip-ups, but it was the first time that the entire scene had gone off without a hitch. Both Princes had followed their blocking to a T and not once had either of them needed to call for line. The scene had come together perfectly, and both of them knew it.

So, apparently, did his director, Adri. Satisfaction was clear to be seen on her glowing face as she joined in on the scattered applause. “Excellent work, Roman, Kyle! You’ve still got to pay attention to your volume and make sure you’re not pushing the tempo of the song too much, but otherwise, that was flawless. Keep up the good work.” She turned to address the rest of the room. “Alright, folks, that’s the last of our scene-by-scene work for the day. Make sure you’re drinking plenty of water. We’ll take five and then run the show from the top, so you’re all going to want to be well-hydrated.” 

The room leapt to life the second she finished speaking. Roman and Kyle shared a quick high-five before making their way offstage, chatting all the way.

“Awesome job, Roman!” said Kyle encouragingly.

“Oh, thank you so much! Right back at you, of course. This scene is going to turn out marvellously, I can just feel it.”

Kyle nodded, cheerful. “Well, I could go for a cup of coffee. Want anything?”

“Coffee?” Roman raised his eyebrows. "At half past nine? Kyle, it’s been dark out for at least two hours already. How do you expect to get any sleep tonight if you drink coffee now?”

“Ehh… I guess you’re right. Maybe I’ll just get bubble tea or something instead.”

“Boba’s good.” Roman said with a nod. “Just make sure you’re back before break’s over or Adri might bite your head off.”

“Heh, yeah — wait, you’re not coming with?”

“No, I think I’ll hang back. Go over the script a few more times before we start, you know? And maybe get some notes from Adri while I’m at it.”

“Gotcha. No worries. See you soon, man.” Kyle grabbed his coat and stepped out with a wave goodbye. Roman wandered over to his backpack to grab a drink of water. Then, he pulled out a granola bar and, munching on the healthy snack, he began flipping through the pages of his script. He was checking for any issues, anything that might get in the way of a flawless performance (he would settle for nothing less), making sure he hadn’t forgotten any of the blocking or any lines since the last time they’d run the show all the way. As expected, though, Roman’s careful search turned out to be unnecessary. 

Which was great, except now he had nothing to do; he’d realized only after getting to rehearsal that he’d left his laptop at home by accident, meaning he couldn’t spend his break finishing up any schoolwork like he would typically do. Roman reached for his bag, put away his script. Without anything to keep him busy, it wasn’t long before his mind began freely wandering. His imagination took him anywhere and everywhere and nowhere in particular all at once — then suddenly made a crash landing somewhere familiar: a private karaoke room within the walls of the Lemon Lime Loophole night club. 

Roman still couldn’t help but feel guilty for turning down Remy’s kind offer. His three friends had seemed so disappointed when he’d said that he couldn’t go with them, but it couldn’t be helped; he’d made the commitment to attend rehearsals and he had to see it through.

But, well… to be completely honest, Roman may not have agreed to go with the three of them even if he hadn’t had rehearsal that day. Not because he didn’t want to, or because he didn’t think that karaoke with his friends would be a fun time — Roman was sure that if he had gone with his friends to the Lemon Lime tonight, he would have ended up having the time of his life singing crazy show tunes or Disney songs with them.  

There was just one problem: what would Monet think? If the simple act of convincing his boyfriend to let him visit home every other weekend made Roman feel like he was walking on fragile eggshells, then trying to schedule a time and place to hang out with his friends was like — like strapping on ice skates with working chainsaws in place of blades and dancing a complex, fast-paced jig on top of those same eggshells. 

It would often end up taking days or sometimes even weeks of careful negotiations before Monet was willing to let Roman go anywhere without being by his side at all times. And even then, there were still rules that Roman had to follow: no flirting, be home by x o’clock, no more than four drinks, if anyone tries to hit on you then leave immediately, don’t show too much skin when you go out, send me a text and a photo every hour… All reasonable requests, and Roman could certainly understand where his boyfriend was coming from, but the fact remained that they were rules nonetheless. Sometimes it felt like the list never stopped growing.

It didn’t help that the three people who made up Roman’s closest circle of friends were all attractive young men the same age as Roman, either. Though Roman was being completely honest when he told Monet that all of them were only friends, Kai, Elliot, and Remy were undeniably handsome and there was, of course, never a dull moment with them around. 

It was easy to see why Monet, committed as he was to their relationship, might get a little bit distressed over how often Roman was hanging around the three of them. In fact, when Roman looked at the situation from his boyfriend’s point of view, he realized that Monet was already being generous enough, letting Roman spend as much time as he did with his group of friends. It wasn’t fair of Roman to ask for even more. And yet Monet was still willing to give it to him, under the right circumstances. 

Roman sighed. That boy really is incredible.

So though a night of karaoke with his friends was a pleasant thought in theory, Roman had known the second Remy extended the invitation that there was no way he’d be able to go. Really, he was grateful for the schedule conflict between Remy’s reservation and his rehearsal. Explaining that he couldn’t go because of a prior commitment was so much easier than explaining that he couldn’t go because his boyfriend wouldn’t like it; that latter option made Monet sound like a cruelly controlling criminal, which he wasn’t — but though Roman understood Monet’s motives perfectly well on his own, he had found that he always ran into difficulty when he tried to explain them to other people…

Two sharp claps interrupted Roman’s train of thought. A quick glance at the clock on the wall revealed that his break was over. Just as well; Roman’s spirits were starting to sag a little, thinking about the karaoke he was missing out on. But there was plenty of singing to do here at rehearsal, wasn’t there?

Roman rose to his feet, tossed the granola bar wrapper into the trash, and did some quick warm-ups to ensure he was fully prepared; a few brief stretches, a vocal sigh, one or two quiet tongue twisters. He finished up and turned just in time to greet Kyle, who was rushing in with a half-finished plastic cup of bubble tea in his hands. The sight immediately reminded Roman of Remy’s antics with a similar plastic cup earlier that day, but he quickly pushed the thought aside. Stop thinking about them, he ordered himself. It’s rehearsal time. Focus!

“Kyle, just in time,” Roman greeted with a smile.

Kyle put his drink in a safe place where it wouldn’t spill over and made eye contact with Roman. He didn’t smile back this time. “Who’s Kyle?”  

“Oh. Right, my bad.”

Kyle — pardon, the Other Prince — was apparently in character already. Perhaps Roman ought to be doing the same.

Roman breathed in, deeply, drawing as much oxygen into his diaphragm as he could, and let his eyelids flutter gently shut. Then, he slowly released the air from his lungs, and released all the bits and pieces of “Roman” with it.

While the young man melted away, the music began. Light, crystalline, clear, bouncing. Then, gently, came the singing: 

“I wish —”

“More than anything —”

By the time the young man opened his eyes again, Roman had dissolved into the background, no more than a ghost fluttering between steady, rhythmic pulses. 

“More than life —”

“More than jewels —��

And in his place, standing where Roman had once stood: a perfect Prince Charming.

“I wish…”

***

Roman was so tired by the time he got back to his and Monet’s house that evening, he ended up collapsing on the couch only seconds after he’d finished hanging up his thick winter coat. Stretching, Roman let out a huge yawn. The rest of his rehearsal had gone just fine, but the single granola bar he had packed for himself hadn’t been completely sufficient to keep his energy levels up. After all of the jumping around and running back and forth and vocal work, the drive home that day had been a long one.

Hearing Monet shuffling up behind him, Roman turned around. He watched Monet take in Roman’s state of being for a brief handful of seconds, then Roman’s boyfriend gave Roman a small smile and sat down next to him on the couch.

“Hey there, Prince Charming. Long day, huh?” 

Roman let another yawn, somehow even bigger than the last, escape. That was answer enough.

“Oh, you poor thing, you must be completely worn out.” Monet shook his head as he wrapped a protective arm around Roman, pulling him close. “I’m so proud of you, Princey. You’ve been working so hard on this show of yours! I’d bet you anything that when show week begins, you’re going to be the best actor on the stage.” 

Roman snuggled up against his boyfriend’s shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent. Hot chocolate on a cold winter day. "Heh. You’re just saying that.”

“No, I mean it. You’re crazy good, Ro,” Monet insisted. “You’re definitely going to become a world-famous actor some day, I’m sure of it. And then every time I see that cute face of yours plastered on a billboard or magazine cover or something, I can point and say, ‘You see that guy? Roman Foley, the bright shining superstar? He’s my boyfriend, you know.’ Everyone’s going to be so jealous of me.”

“I, uh…” 

For some reason, Monet’s usually welcome compliments left Roman feeling a little hollow inside today. But I suppose it’s the thought that counts. 

Luckily, though Roman was tired, he wasn’t so out of power that he couldn’t even act out some enthusiasm for Monet’s sake.

“...appreciate that,” he eventually settled for, giving Monet a quick peck on the cheek before returning his head to its resting position. “You’re always too good to me, you know.”

Roman felt his boyfriend’s shoulder shake a little bit as Monet chuckled. “Oh, trust me — I know.”

With that, the two of them were back to cuddling. It was nice, but Roman couldn’t help but feel like he should be saying something.

“You are coming to watch the performance, right?” he eventually settled on.

Roman couldn’t see his face, but he could tell from his tone of voice that Monet was smiling. “Of course I’m coming to watch the performance. I promised I would, didn’t I? Trust me, Ro, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Then, all of a sudden, Roman’s head hit the couch cushions. Monet had stood up without warning and was now watching Roman expectantly. 

With a considerable amount of effort, Roman pushed himself back up to a sitting position, grumbling. “Come baaaack... I was comfortable!” he whined. “Don’t just abandon me here, Monet.”

“It’s getting late, and you’re tired. I wasn’t about to let you fall asleep on top of me. You’d have woken up cramped and sore all over.” Monet reached out and grabbed Roman’s hand. “Come on, sleepy head, let’s get you to up the stairs and into bed.” Ignoring Roman’s further protests, Monet pulled him to his feet. 

Roman swayed in place for a moment before heavily settling back down onto the couch. “Nuh-uh, not moving. Couch soft.”

“The bed’s softer, silly. I already said, you’ll be sore in the morning if you sleep down here. Let’s go.”

Hearing a note of impatience in his boyfriend’s tone, Roman gave a small groan, but got up just like Monet asked. He leaned on Monet all the way over to their staircase, at which point Monet remembered an unfinished assignment and left Roman to fend for himself. So Roman climbed up the stairs and got ready for bed on his own, all the while swearing he could hear scattered notes and lyrics from Into the Woods still bouncing sluggishly from ear to tired ear:

It takes two . I thought one was enough, it’s not true — it takes two of us .

Humming the song’s simple melody, Roman slid with a contented sigh under the soft gold and red covers of the double bed that he and Monet shared. 

(You came through — when the journey was rough, it took you — it took two of us.)

Monet had been totally right, just like he always was. The bed was way softer.

(It takes care — it takes patience and fear and despair — to change.)

But something was distinctly missing: the warmth of another person beside him. 

(Though you swear to change, who can tell if you do?)  

Tired though he was, Roman always felt so small when he lay all alone in their large bed. Even as he drifted off, he found himself wishing for someone to lie there next to him.

(It takes two.)

***

[next chapter]

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