#but now my brain is sludge and i can’t focus on anything

[notsocooljess]

Hi. I wanted to ask your opinion on Peeta and the way he loves Katniss after he overcomes the hijacking. Did Peeta have to fall in love with Katniss twice when he overcame the hijacking or was it more about remembering he loved her? I think it can be both. However I have seen people say Peeta fell in love with her again but he never rememberered how much he loved her before which i don't agree with. I think as he starts to get better and sort out his memories, he does remember the love he had.

hi, anon!

thanks for your ask! i totally agree with you.

i don’t love when people play up the the idea that “he had to fall in love with her twice” or “he never loved her the same as before” as if he doesn’t remember anything about her and their relationship/connection. i think that idea discredits a lot of what they’ve already been through. in my opinion, if peeta never remembered anything about what happened between he and katniss, then why would he choose to help her? why would the sewer kiss help combat the hijacking? why would he come back to her in 12 and plant the primroses?

i think he needed an extreme amount of help to heal. i do think some of his memories were lost for good, but through therapy and time, i believe a lot more come back than some people give credit to. unfortunately, since the book is katniss’s first-person POV, we don’t know what therapy peeta is given after the bombing in the capitol. weeks/months go by where peeta is in the burn unit and then kept in the capitol while katniss is under trial and then returned home. everything i say is my own speculation, but i think there must’ve been some sort of extremely intensive therapy and interventions going on at this point for peeta, at which point they salvage what they can of his memory and help him work through these memories and his feelings.

personally, i just think if peeta’s memories were totally, abolsutely, 100% gone for good, how could he ever been reconvened to love her again? i think a good part of him that is lost to the hijacking needs to be found again in recovery for the ending to make sense.

[imperator-titus]

Ghost from the Past [Part 11]

Sorry for the long wait! (Is it long? Well, I've certainly updated quicker...) I had to focus on the end of my grad classes (and now have more... woo...) I also had to start really thinking about the next steps for the story.

I thought this bit was gonna have smut. Probably the next part will have a lot of spice.

A lot of my struggles came from modifying Gale's canon monogamous outlook without totally disregarding it and Astarion's character growth after the Yurgir fight. Clearly it has to be a little different since Eletha already confronted him about what he wants from her. Astarion in this part gets kind of a "+1 Emotional Intelligence."

I'm really enjoying this story, and I hope some of you are too! Please feel free to hit me up about it! I've been really enjoying some comments over on Ao3. Much love!

(Prev)[Part 10] (Next)[Part 12] [Master Post]

[For those unsure, yes, this is a made-up line the OP did, and honestly, it was perfect! Gale, you are about to be the star of the show.]

In the morning, Eletha was ready to go before anyone got up. She’d even started breakfast.

“You’re up bright and early,” Wyll remarked, one of the first to greet her.

“Early, at least,” Karlach said with a little laugh, indicating the permanent darkness that surrounded them. 

“I already have a plan of action for the next few days. We’ve wasted enough time waiting around for me to put my head on straight.” Eletha relinquished control of the cookware to Gale, who practically snatched the fork out of her hand.

“Are you sure you’re… okay?” Shadowheart asked hesitantly.

“Oh. No. No, I wouldn’t say I’m okay.” Seeing the looks they all gave her, Eletha chuckled. “I was never okay. Just… distracted. I can’t do anything about the whole… But I can do something about the problems that face us now.”

“Well said,” Gale said before turning back to their breakfast.

“Besides, I always feel better with a bloody blade in my hand.”

“I could not agree more.” Lae’zel’s eyes blazed with passion.

Before they headed out, Astarion approached Eletha.

“I know you said that I should stay behind with Gale and I normally wouldn't mind languishing around camp while you trudge waist-deep through curses and undead sludge, but-” 

Astarion stopped mid-speech as Eletha stopped digging through her bag and started rotating around, hand outstretched to the sky. Seemingly, she wasn't listening.

“Relapsing into madness again so quickly?”

“It's a sun glass. Can't be combusting in the middle of a fight,” she explained, tilting the piece of glass until she caught a glimmer of light. As she tucked it into her hip pouch she asked, “What did you want to tell me?”

“I wanted to come along. That's all. Wyll said it was fine if I took his place,” Astarion answered, throwing his words away as if it was no big deal.

“Okay.”

Astarion pouted a little. “You're not going to ask?”

“No.” Eletha stopped what she was doing and looked at him from the corner of her eye. He huffed and started walking away. She rolled her eyes and called after him, exasperated, “Why do you want to come so bad?”

“To look after you, of course,” he answered, practically sparkling. 

“Oh. You want praise.” He smacked her hand away when she tried to pat his cheek. She smiled. “Thank you. It's sweet of you to care.”

“I don't care and I'm not sweet. I have a personal interest in keeping you alive and not insane.”

“I get it. You're a magnificent bastard. So sorry, for implying you would be so weak as to look out for someone because you care.”

“That's right. I suppose all that brain damage hasn't made you stupid yet. Now that that’s settled.” Astarion turned and hesitated.

He ever so slightly wiggled his ass in her direction.

Eletha smirked. “Right. Best head out.”

As she passed him, she brought back her hand and smacked his backside so hard that he yelped and jumped a little.

“What is wrong with you, woman?!” he screeched, holding a hand to his stinging cheek.

“A lot.”

----

“This seem important to y’all?” Eletha asked, holding up the lute she just pulled off this weird doctor character.

“Are we gonna talk about how, in the past 4 hours, you've convinced someone to explode and another to let himself be brutally stabbed to death?” Karlach asked hesitantly, watching the mad nurses go back to their routines as if nothing happened.

“I dunno, I liked how that other one was full of gold,” Astarion remarked with a satisfied little smile.

“Why would he have a lute?” Eletha asked herself, ignoring Karlach’s question, looking over the instrument. She found some initialing carved into the neck. “That Art Cullagh guy seemed like the musical sort.”

“Well, he was insane. And he did seem to enjoy it…” Shadowheart said, regarding the gore with disgust.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Eletha said as she started to walk towards the back of the decrepit hospital.

“Because of the whole…” Karlach hesitantly made circles over her abdomen with a sympathetic pained face. Eletha’s eyebrows lowered in confusion.

“What? No. No, that probably happened in, like, the dirt, right? A pile of leaves?”

“You don't know?” Karlach asked, confused herself.

“Kinda blocked that bit out, yeah.” Eletha went through the doctor’s things, searching for anything interesting. Or valuable.

“I don't envy you. I've heard it ruins your vagina,” Shadowheart remarked flippantly as she cleaned her nails.

“That can't be true,” Karlach breathed in disbelief, her voice stressed.

“Oh, yeah, you can tear your arsehole like paper,” Eletha answered, tearing a piece of paper she found for effect.

“No! Don't tell me that!” Karlach cried in distress, closing her eyes and putting her hands over her ears.

“Is that why you're so shy? Worried it’ll be a disappointment for anyone but an ogre?” Astarion teased, indicating Eletha’s crotch with a cunty little wave of a finger. Eletha chuckled, smacking his hand like he was a child in need of a lesson.

“Not sure if I'm flattered or disgusted that you're thinking about my vagina.” Astarion’s lips curled into a mischievous smirk.

“I'm not the only one. Should I break the news to Gale that it's more like the Underdark than a cozy little cave?”

“Yeah, I got some glowing mushrooms in there and everything. Brightens the place up,” Eletha told him cheerily, mimicking decorating a home.

“Do you think a wizard can localize an enlarge spell?” Astarion asked after a comic hum.

“Aww, it's okay, I'm sure Gale’s more into technique than equipment.” Eletha patted his shoulder mockingly, a look of false sympathy in her eyes. Astarion laughed a little bark of a laugh.

“He'd be good for you. He could lend you a magic hand from the other side of his tower, no men involved,” he retorted cattily.

“He does know how to make a good steak.” 

“Oh darling, you wound me.” Astarion dramatically swooned and Eletha had to stop him from tripping over himself.

“That's what you’ll be saying when he's done with you.”

“Gods you two are weird,” Karlach breathed,shaking her head as she watched them.

Eletha let Karlach and Shadowheart take the lead as they walked through the crypt and the Sharran temple beyond.

“You look like you want to say something,” Eletha remarked, not turning her head to regard Astarion trailing beside her.

“Well…”

“You look nervous about it too.” She squints, eyeing him suspiciously. “Don't tell me you're actually thinking about my holes right now.”

“Maybe,” he retorted haughtily, bobbing his head in a mocking manner. After a defeated huff, he went on, “I feel like I should apologize. I never considered the possibility that I ruined you for all other men physically, not just emotionally.”

Eletha rolled her eyes so hard they threatened to get stuck that way. “Corellon save me.”

Astarion clicked his tongue, annoyed at her reaction. “Would it make you feel better if I said I have selfish reasons too? I've been thinking about that night after the goblin camp for quite a while.”

Eletha smirked and snorted, giving him a suggestive lift of her eyebrows. “Parched, are you?”

“Practically dying.”

“Gale not living up to his divine endorsement?”

“He is a good kisser…” Astarion clicked his tongue at her again. “Don't change the subject.”

Eletha wondered how she got in this conversation and how she was going to get out.

“No one has exactly complained, but that's not exactly a long list of possibilities and they probably had enough sense to not say anything.” She shrugged. “It used to just be uncomfortable, but as you know, I have quite the pain tolerance now.”

He emitted a soft “aww” and gave her sad eyes. She didn’t totally believe them, especially when his tone was a little too humorous. “You poor thing.” 

“Oh, look, a distraction!” she called out, pointing at a displacer beast skulking about.

Astarion sighed as he slipped his bow off his shoulder. “You’re no fun…”

----

“Did it go well?” Gale asked expectantly, following Eletha as she made for her tent.

“Bunch of cursed weirdos defeated, a clue to finding Thaniel, and a devil’s deal completed? Yes, a useful day,” she answered, laying down her weapons and stripping down to the clothes under her armor. 

“That is good to hear, but I was referring to, well, you.” He followed as she went towards where they'd set up a more “private” spot to bathe. It was nothing more than a bucket of cold water but it was better than nothing.

“You don't have to worry about me, Gale.”

“Perhaps, but I do.” He blushed and turned away as she started undressing, just like that night she showed them her curse. “If you desire, I can discuss this with you another time.”

“I’m not bothered. Are you bothered?”

“I… assumed you would be a bit more reserved, given… certain details.” Gale cleared his throat. “Anyway. You’ve been through a lot lately. I felt it prudent to check in.”

“Do I seem okay?”

“You seem like you’re burying your feelings. I should know, I’ve been doing that for a long time,” he said with a little self-deprecating chuckle.

Eletha touched his cheek and smiled softly. “You’re sweet, Bhin.”

“I was hoping for valiant or at least charming-” He stopped with a stammer as she got on her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. Her body brushed against his and a small gasp escaped his lips in surprise. “I… ahem… I will leave you to your ablutions.”

She watched him retreat with a coy little smirk on face before continuing with her “bath.” After washing the blood and dust out of her hair and off her face, she called out, “I know you’re there.”

“And you let me watch anyway?” Astarion asked as he stepped out of his hiding place.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

“Mm, yes, but not that little display with Gale.”

“Jealous?”

“A little. Your approach is much more subtle than mine, and I think it might be more effective.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The way your soft touch caught him off-guard. His heart leapt, thinking your lips would meet in a kiss. Your naked body just so happens to brush against him? I’m sure he’s in his tent thinking about it right now. He’s asking himself, how can I convince her to see me as more than just a fool, worthy of more than just her sweet sympathies?” 

As he spoke, Astarion divested himself of his own armor and the clothes underneath it. It wasn’t the first time they’d washed the blood and road off in each other’s company. It was almost… comforting, that they could just be naked with no sexual context. 

However, knowing Astarion, he’d probably encourage it. 

“You’ve got quite the imagination.” 

“It’s true, though, isn’t it?” he suggested with a smirk, taking the sponge out of her hand. She merely gave him a quizzical squint. He regarded the object as if it was very interesting. “You know, you make fun of me, for not having plans. But I had a plan, once.

“You were right. I did want to make you desire me, protect me. Our previous relationship made that complicated, obviously. So I prodded the others, as a backup. Lae’zel and Shadowheart were too guarded, too difficult. Wyll, the gallant monster hunter, spent a long time debating if I was worthy of living. Karlach, well, we couldn’t touch her. And she’s so… sweet, when she’s not terrifying. She likes you enough that she’d take your lead.

“That left me with Gale. Handsome, powerful, doomed Gale. A tough nut to crack, until you get under the social awkwardness, emotional miscues, and over-inflated self-importance.”

“Well, you have a lot of experience with that,” Eletha remarked, unmoving as Astarion very carefully rinsed the sponge and wet it again with fresh water.

“The secret, as you have probably guessed, is how utterly desperate he is to be touched.” 

Astarion squeezed out the water from the sponge, watching as it dripped onto Eletha’s shoulder and ran down her chest, sometimes catching on a scar and running in another direction. 

A gasp escaped from her throat. 

“He hid behind that orb, but really, he was so desperate that it made him sick.

“I feel awful. He was supposed to be a sacrificial pawn and I feel awful. Those books… How he quivers under my touch…” 

Astarion began wiping away blood and sweat from her neck and shoulders. Eletha wasn’t quite sure why she allowed him to. It felt… nice.

“Today you went after that orthon like he wasn’t three times your size, like it didn’t matter how hard he hit you. You did it for me, just like I hoped, but feared you wouldn’t.”

His hand traveled down her chest, cleaning the shallow valley between her breasts. “Did you have a plan for this conversation or…?”

He stopped following his hand with his eyes and gazed deeply into hers. 

“When was the last time someone took care of you, my love?”

Eletha flushed and as she looked away, she took hold of his wrist and pushed it towards him. “Don't be ridiculous.”

“What's ridiculous about it? Gale wants us both. I want you both. And you want us. Why not a cheeky little three-sided thing?”

“You presume a lot.”

“My sweet, don't play so aloof. I've read your diaries.” With his other hand, he trailed his middle finger along one collarbone and then down her sternum. “You deny this part of yourself because you feel it's undeserved. Haven't you suffered enough?”

Eletha hesitantly let go of his wrist.

“Let me take care of you. Show you how much I appreciate you?” he purred, his hand taking hold of her waist, his lips approaching hers, their hips nearly touching. 

Sensing the proximity of the body that once so perfectly interlocked with hers, the long-forgotten part of her body awoke with a heat that was searing in comparison to the chill surrounding them. 

Eletha began to tremble. 

For a moment, Astarion’s eyes appeared golden as they gazed deeply into hers. 

“Please?”

Eletha opened her mouth to speak, but another voice was heard.

“Could you two move this somewhere else? I need to wash my hair,” Shadowheart complained, huffing and undoubtedly crossing her arms over her chest.

“Aww, Fringe, Lethi was going to finally get some…” Karlach complained quietly, although she could still be heard in the near-silence.

Eletha snatched the sponge out of Astarion’s hand and made a mad dash attempt at scrubbing the most important parts of her clean. When he stood there staring at her, she started cleaning him too, starting with his face so he couldn't argue. “Just a minute!”

Astarion glared at Shadowheart as he sauntered out behind a flustered Eletha. Karlach appeared apologetic.

From his position at the campfire, Gale appeared to be watching Eletha go into her tent, a worried look on his face. Then he saw Astarion, practically glowing in his underwear under what little light there was, and his expression changed to a glower.

“It's not what you think,” Astarion said as he passed him.

“Sure…” Gale grumbled, turning his attention back to the food he spent all day preparing.

----

Night fell, sort of, and Astarion stood in front of Gale’s tent.

“Can I speak with you?” he asked, trying to avoid any sarcasm and only using a little sass.

“I suppose,” Gale answered after a moment of silent consideration.

He was clearly upset, pouting as he flicked through a tome.

Astarion put his hands on his hips. “Look. We didn't do anything.”

“So you say.”

“Don't be like that. You were considering it too.”

“That is prepos-”

“You're not fooling me.” Astarion snatched the book away. Holding it more gingerly, he said deliberately, “I’m… sorry.”

“What are you doing right now?” Gale asked suspiciously.

“When I didn't know if Eletha was going to gut me or not, I… had a plan. You would fall in love with me and I would, well… have a powerful wizard in my corner. All I had to do was not fall for you. And I failed.”

Gale shook his head. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

“Because you’re blind.” Astarion sighed, the flow of his speech interrupted. “I see you with her. You can’t be jealous. Of course, it’s still not clear to me if you’re mad that I am flirting or that she is being flirted with. But what does it matter? We all like each other.”

“I thought this was an apology, not a call to a ménage à trois.”

“It is! Or, it's supposed to be. You know I'm not good at this.” Astarion offered the book back, only to move it out of reach at the last second. “Live a little, Gale. Expand your mind.”

Gale sighed wearily. “You've given me a lot to think about.”

Astarion’s lips curled in a self-satisfied little smile. “Hopefully something fun?”

Gale snatched his book back. Astarion huffed, although playfully, and left.

After a while, Gale left his tent and softly made his way towards Eletha’s.

“Are you awake?” he whispered, not wishing to disturb her.

“Come in,” she answered, making space for him in the small tent.

He could tell that she’d been drinking, but not as much as before, so that was good, right? Still, he felt the need to give her an out from the conversation. “We can discuss this some other time, if that would be more suitable.”

“I have the feeling you’re going to ask me something that will be easier to answer in my current state.” Eletha gestured for him to go on. “This is casual intoxication, not running away from my feelings intoxication.”

Gale would have to take her word for it. “Did anything happen between you? Today, I mean.”

“Are you asking because you’re concerned for me, or for personal interests?” She took a sip of her drink. 

“Can it not be both?” Eletha hummed. He had a fair point.

“He was coming onto me. Genuinely, this time, which was surprising.”

Gale swallowed around a lump in his throat. “Were you going to accept?” 

“I didn’t really have the time to fully consider it.” Eletha offered him her drink and, after a moment’s hesitation, he took it. “I was going to tell him off. Then he said something that made me reconsider.”

“He can be quite convincing,” Gale agreed sourly before taking a sip of her drink. It was just wine, not that hard stuff that seemed to magically appear in her hands.

“Well, he was right, which, if Astarion is right, you’ve kinda fucked up, yeah?” She grinned at him and he laughed, because she was right. 

“He was right. I’ve been running away from happiness ever since he left. Felt I didn’t deserve it. When I’d try again, I’d just get hurt, and I’d punish myself more. Sometimes it was just the wrong person, it doesn’t work. But sometimes… maybe it could have worked? If I didn’t get this knot in my stomach that says I’m worthless?

“I’ve tried being friends. I can do friendship. And I feel bad, that maybe I’m getting your hopes up, and not because I like teasing you, but because I hate myself. I’m punishing myself, by getting attached and ruining everything.

“So I considered it. I wanted to say no, because it would hurt you, because I didn’t deserve it. But… I wanted to say yes, so it would hurt you and you’d hate me and that was its own punishment. And just a little bit… I was happy with him, once upon a time. Maybe I could be happy again.”

Gale listened intently. Eletha had a habit of rambling, but she chose her words and tone carefully. With practice, he could untangle them to find the naked truth underneath. This time, it was… familiar.

“Do you think you could be happy again?” he asked her sincerely, meeting her two-toned gaze with his big brown eyes, so open and sad.

“After all we’ve been through?” She laughed a little and his heart sank. Then she smiled. “Yeah. I do.”

“Then I wish you the best of luck.”

Gale held out her wine bottle, intending it as a symbol of releasing her from the burden of worrying about his feelings. Eletha took the bottle, but with her other hand, took hold of his. 

“You deserve to be happy too.” Her words were so sweet. She was being so sincere and he just… had a hard time believing it was true. “If you want him, just tell him. And if he has to choose… I’m sure he’ll choose you.”

“I am not as sure as you. He loves you. You have-” Gale cut himself off before he could say something that might make her spiral again. Eletha appeared to understand what he was going to say, but she still seemed pleasant and level-headed. “Why would he choose me?”

“Because I’m old and boring. You’re young and exciting.” A mischievous smirk tugged at her lips. “And I’ll make him. He owes me for the rest of my life.”

Gale shook his head. “There is a wrinkle in your plan. You’d be alone.”

“My sweetling, I’ve been alone a long time. You have your whole life ahead of you” Gale opened his mouth to protest and the sharp dark gaze that instantly flashed in her eyes made him shut it again without her losing a beat “and my beloved Astarion is getting to start over. I can be alone a little longer. If you two are happy, then I will be happy.

“Besides. It’s not like we have done anything even close to what you two were doing. We haven’t even shared a kiss.”

Gale stared at their clasped hands. He thought about what Astarion said earlier.

“Would you like to?” he asked, squeezing her hand reflexively in his nervousness.

“I think that… I am just drunk enough to say yes, but not so drunk that I’ll be cursing myself in the morning.”

Eletha got to her knees and leaned forward, holding his face gently as she kept their other hands together. 

Gale let out a breath of excitement. 

Their eyes closed and their lips touched. 

The first kiss was hesitant, testing the unknown topography, finding the way to fit just right. A pleasurable heat rose to the surface of Eletha’s skin as she deepened the next kiss.

Gale’s heart fluttered while his stomach did flips. This felt so different from his interludes with Astarion. 

Those felt like a natural progression of a lanceboard game. They would have some heartfelt conversation that turned into an exchange of witty barbs and the only places to go from there were fighting or “fighting.”

That didn’t mean either was unpleasurable.

Actually. It was too pleasurable.

Eletha leaned back to catch her breath and make sure he was alright.

Luckily, this meant that she only got vomit on her chest and lap, not her face.

She was stunned as Gale pleaded for her forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, I don’t- I don’t understand-”

This time he managed to turn his head.

Rubbing his back soothingly, Eletha chuckled. “It’s okay. I know the feeling.”

If anyone noticed, they were kind enough to not talk about it the next morning. Eletha managed to clean herself up enough to help Gale back to his tent. There, she sat for a while, making sure he would recover.

“Words cannot express how foolish I feel,” Gale said weakly as she placed a cold damp towel on his forehead.

“It’s not the first time a wizard’s puked on me,” she answered, soothingly stroking his hair a few times before sitting back. It probably wouldn’t help to touch him too much right now.

“You must have a lot of interesting stories…”

“I promise to leave this one out of the ballad they’ll inevitably write about us.”

“It was enjoyable. Until the last bit.”

“I enjoyed it too,” Eletha said sweetly, a small smile on her lips.

A few minutes passed in silence. She was about to get up, assuming he’d fallen asleep, when Gale asked, “What was the first time?”

“So I was at this party in Suzail…”

[golden-web]

The medical room still feels as cold and sterile as the first time I was in it all those years ago. Dr. Simmons pokes around as I jump up onto the examination table. I take a few deep breaths to try and calm myself.

“Alright Finley, I’ll be with you, but another Doctor is going to do the examination just to make sure there’s no bias. I can leave at any time alright?” Dr. Simmons says. I nod a bit.

“Do I know them?” I aks quietly.

“No, but he’s very good, we can go as slow as you need with most things okay?” I nod. Soon after an older man walks in.

“Good morning Dr. Simmons, Finley,” he says with a nod. “I hope you have eaten well the last few days,” he adds with a chuckle.

He walks around the room as he pulls on gloves and grabs instruments.

“I’m going to start with a routines check up, blood pressure, breathing, heart rate. Then we have to do a pee test. We’ll then to a variety of cognitive test, some physical test, and then round it off with blood work. If at any time you need water, food or anything like that just let me or Simmons know and we can take a short break. Any questions?”

“No.”

“Fantastic!” The Day sludges on through various test. After a few hours I end up in a giant metal chair. Dr. Simmons is by my side as the doctor explains and sets up the machine.

“This machine is very safe. It reads brain waves, pulse and a few other things. All we will be doing is talking. I’ll be asking various questions and what not.” He explains.

I nod a swallow the lump in my throat.

“Your safe Finley,” Dr. Simmons whispers. “I have to wait outside the room okay?”

“Okay,” I stammer. Little metal things poke me all around my body from my head down to my stomach. Dr. Simmons leaves the room and the doctor sits across from me.

“Alright Finley, what’s your full name?” He asks.

“Finley Fitzgerald.”

“Is that your legal name?”

“Yes,” I grit my teeth as a memory invades my mind. Hydras lab. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

“Okay, how old are you?”

“17, I’ll be 18 on Wednesday.”

“When did you start operating as the golden web?”

“October of my freshman year, so four years now.” The room spins a bit as the questions pile on. One after another. My heart hammers in my chest as the ghost of my last creep in the corners of my vision.

Isa Riggs, countless doctors, scientists, one after another.

“Finley?” The doctor asks. I open my eyes and focus on him. “Are you ready to continue?”

“Yes,” I say raising my chin. The ghost of my last can’t haunt me forever. I need to keep fighting.

[episode-o]

My mental health has gotten a lot better since I’ve moved to Portland. I’m usually fine but sometimes I will have episodes of pretty bad anxiety and depression. It’s almost never as bad as it used to be. However sometimes it just hits a little harder and I’ll think “oh. Suicidal ideations. Haven’t had those for a while” it’s most often around my time of the month. While thanks to birth control I don’t bleed any more I still get symptoms. I also have anemia pretty bad right now so mix that with my current mental state I’m sure you can imagine I’m having a pretty bad brain and body time right now.

I’m just lying in bed right now unable to sleep. Too many things going on in my brain right now. Even though I’m so physically exhausted I just can’t sleep. I was thinking about self harm. Often times when I’m having an episode I rub on my wrist trying to find texture there. With the anemia right now it almost feels like I can feel the blood running through my veins. My mental state is so overwhelming right now I can almost feel it like actual physical pain and I feel like it would give me some sort of release. Just a little bit. Or just different pain I can focus on. I think it would be like fixing a kink in a hose where once it’s done the water will come out a little fast at first but then flow just like normal.

I’m really trying to not be dramatic right now as I know that it’s a bad decision and I know that I’m not going to do anything to myself. However, some dark part of me really feels like it would help for some reason? Like it would release just a little bit of the pressure. And I’m really trying not to say that its dumb, as my feelings and emotions are real and affecting me very strongly right now and sometimes that’s just kind of the way it is. I’m not going to lie to myself and say that it’s a normal thing but it definitely is the way it is right now. I also really keep wanting to ask for help but if I’m being honest here, I really don’t know how. Especially since a lot of my anxiety already stems from feeling like a burden to the people around me. Like how do I tell people I love “hey be gentle with me right now, my brain feels like it’s sinking in tar and I feel like once it completely submerges I’ll drown with it.” I know it’s overly poetic but I regularly compare this mental state to my brain feeling sticky because I feel like if I were to split my skull and poke my brain tar would be a good texture comparison.

I don’t know how to ask for help and to cut the flowery language it fucking sucks. Here I am wanting to beg my friends, my roommate, my partner for any sort of support, but it feels like a task to do. I know if I went to these people I don’t even have to tell them everything they would be willing to at least give me a little support, but even with that knowledge I feel so lonely. And I don’t know how to fix it or do anything about it. So here I sit alone in my bed at 7:37 in the morning feeling bad about myself. Physically and emotionally. It will pass. I know it will. till then I have to brave the world feeling like my body is made of rusty iron and my veins are full of sludge and my brain is suspended in toxic goop.

It’ll be fine I’m sure. Just give me a bit.

[britishassistant]

Supervillain AU! I formally request the special addition of Yuu’s first kidnapping please.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“Yoo-hoo, Reporter-chan? Wakey-wakey, it’ll be bad for you if you don’t get up soon~”

Yuu shakes their head groggily, the sing-songy voice not helping the pounding in their temple.

“Did someone get the number of the truck that hit me?” They mumble, blinking to try and get their eyes to focus.

“Dammit Deuce, you gave them brain damage.” A familiar, much more annoyed sounding voice said. “Their head’s gonna be all screwy and useless now, dumbass.”

“It was just a lovetap though!” A third voice, also familiar, protested.

The floor finally stopped moving in front of their eyes and Yuu realized some very important things.

One, the floor they were staring at was not the floor of the library where they last remembered being.

Two: Their arms and legs seemed to be tied tight to the arms and legs of an iron garden chair.

Three: There are many odd-looking people standing near them, all in clothes that are too coordinated not to be a uniform but too outlandish to represent a government group of some kind.

Oh Great Seven, Yuu thinks with a rising sort of hysteria. It’s finally happened.

Clowns have come to take me away for not brushing my teeth enough like Mom said when I was little.

“...Are ya sure you didn’t break ‘em?”

“...”

“Deuce.”

Yuu wonders if they should feel offended at being talked around like this.

“Enough of this nonsense!” A hand seizes Yuu’s chin and pulls their head up to face the latest speaker. An imperious-looking young man stands and walks towards the reporter, clicking his fingers. “Three of Clovers.”

A tall man in glasses hands the imperious young man what Yuu recognizes as their wallet. The shorter man glances at the contents disdainfully. “You. First and last name and age, now.”

“Y-Yuu Radcliffe, 23 years.” The reporter stutters, their initial hysteria morphing into a sinking feeling in their gut. If not the clowns, then... “Can I ask who I have the pleasure of talking to?”

“No.” The redhead holding their wallet snaps. “Current occupation and birthday?”

“Field reporter at TWST local news.” They force themselves to relax the fists their hands have balled into. “March 18th.”

Remember what Uncle Divvy always says. Stay calm, act cooperative, do or say whatever you need to to avoid injury. Any supervillains on this level trying to curry favor with or blackmail the dumb bird will have to go through Uncle Divvy first to contact him, and he’ll take care of the rest.

All Yuu needs to do is keep themselves alive until then.

They still can’t help but dread what they know is coming next.

The supervillain seems to notice their distress, and smirks cruelly. He takes his time walking forward and leaning down until he’s on the reporter’s eye level, hands resting on the back of the chair and eyes flicking over their face, almost as if he’s savoring the moment before he makes their life that much more painful.

Yuu braces themselves as he opens his mouth–!

“What is the best type of tea?”

Huh?

“Wait, what? I don’t—” Yuu asks, backpedalling as the supervillain’s face grows stormy at their lack of response. “Uuh...green tea? I guess? I mean, it’s the one I like the most, but I’m more of a coffee or hot cocoa person, so I’m not the best one to ask...”

The person holding their chin sucks in through their teeth and the annoyed familiar voice outside their periphary snickers “Oooh, busted~”

The supervillain is beginning to go as red as his hair, and the reporter can hear his teeth grinding. His hands are now gripping the back of the chair so tight Yuu would almost swear they hear the metal by their ears creak.

“Ri–Royal.” The man with glasses says.

The supervillain inhales and exhales almost violently, until what’s visible of his face under that mask is looking less flushed.

“The correct answer,” He says, voice trembling with emotion. “Was all teas at their due times. To drink green tea instead of rosehip at breakfast, or lemon tea at 8pm...the nerve of your arrogance is astounding!”

Yuu...genuinely isn’t sure how they’re supposed to respond to that. Instead they just go with, “I’m sorry, I’ve never had rosehip or lemon tea. Do you like them?”

“Do I—?!” The supervillain’s mouth works soundlessly, gradually going red again. He pushes off the chair sharply. “I—the ro—i-it’s not a matter of liking!! These are the Rules!! And the Rules must be obeyed!! Three of Clovers!”

“Yes, Royal Flush?” The glasses man asks.

“The reporter is forbidden from having any montblanc after dinner, and will take two cups of lemon tea at 8pm tonight and two cups of rosehip tomorrow at breakfast.” Royal Flush flashes them a cruel smirk. “Consider it a light punishment for your impertinence.”

Yuu blinks. Tries to make sense of what they’ve just heard.

Blinks again.

“You know if you just wanted to ask me out to dinner, I’d have taken a nice invitation or a bouquet. You didn’t need to knock me out and tie me up like this, I’m not that picky. I do have Tinder.”

Glasses guy makes a choking noise and erupts into a coughing fit.

The hand that’s been holding Yuu’s chin migrates to their shoulder for support as its owner lets out an undignified snort and gasps out something that sounds vaguely like “why wasn’t I recording, that was Magicam gold!” as he giggles. He’s a redhead too, but much more orange than his boss.

There’s a sputter of hysterical laughter that has Yuu twisting their head to see the two guys and the cat from the hydroelectric plant, both with these odd-looking metal collars around their necks, but otherwise unharmed. The talking cat is trussed up in so many ropes that it looks more like a bobblehead, also wearing a weird collar.

The third redheaded one is bracing his hands on his knees, wheezing out a litany of “holy shit, holy shit” between chortles. The dark haired one is holding the cat a confused expression, cutting off his friend’s laughter when he turns to ask, “Ace, what’s tinder?”

The momentary silence lets an odd squeaking noise be heard.

One that gradually grows in volume until it’s an outright screech coming from the supervillain in front of them. He’s so red Yuu is honestly worried about his blood pressure, pointing a shaking finger at them.

“I—YOU—YOU—OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

Yuu chokes a little at the feeling of cold metal materializing around their neck, dragging their head down with its weight. The supervillain continues screeching, refusing to even look at the reporter. “YOU—! DUNGEON! RIGHT NOW!! NO DESSERTS!! GO!!”

There’s an awkward moment as Royal Flush turns away from them, as if expecting them to get up and walk out of their own accord while his back is to them.

“...So, does that mean you want them to untie me or something, or...?” Yuu wiggles their firmly bound hands and feet for emphasis.

The supervillian makes a sound like a kettle whistling, before he barks out. “Two of Spades! Ace of Hearts! GET them OUT OF MY SIGHT until they’re WILLING to COOPERATE!!”

The dark haired young man quickly shuffles forward, grabs the back of the chair, and drags it and the poor reporter attached to it out of the room and into the corridor. The metal screeches as it moves from carpet to concrete.

“Wh—Two, no, untie them first.” The man with glasses says, despairing, appearing in the doorway. “You’ll mark up the floor otherwise.”

“Ah! Sorry, senpai!” Two looks between the cat in his arms and the knots on the chair, before shoving the cat into the arms of the redhead who answers to “Ace”. Neither of them look happy with this development.

“Fgnah! Quit squeezing, ya jerk!” The cat protests, wriggling as best it can.

“Oh? What’s that? I’m sorry, I just need to make sure that greatest, lamest supervillain in the city doesn’t escape to go setting random crap in the lair on fire again.” Ace says sweetly, grip tightening.

“Tha’s your fault, an’ you know it!” The cat wheezes out, thrashing harder.

Yuu winces. “Hey, quit hurting him. Whatever he did, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The dark haired minion barks out a laugh as he tugs the ropes away from their right wrist while his redheaded counterpart sneers at them.

“Oh really? Bet you’ll change your tune real quick once you learn it’s thanks to him you’re here in the first place.” Ace of Hearts mocks. “Dumb monster sang like a damn canary when Royal pressured him a tiiiny bit, saying it was all your fault his precious ingredient is now in the sewers.”

“Tha’s a lie!” The monster? cat blurts out too quickly for comfort. “It’s all these two morons, I swear!”

“Why you little—“

“I don’t care.” Yuu cuts in before Two of Spades can hit the animal. “I didn’t destroy that thing, but even if none of you said anything, your boss would’ve found out I was involved anyway from watching my report on it on the news. So I don’t care, just-just quit hurting him.”

There’s a tense moment as the two minions stare down at the reporter. They do their best to meet the gazes without flinching.

Then the Ace of Hearts tosses the cat into their lap as the Two of Spades sinks back down to keep working on their ankle. “Fine. Since you like it so much, you can take care of it. Just don’t expect me to cover for your ass—you still owe me for the power plant.”

“I’m sorry?” Yuu curls their free arm around the bundle of rope, fur, and yowling insults and pulls it closer to them. “Shouldn’t that be the other way round?”

“You locked me in a closet with him!” Ace hisses. “Do you know how hard it was to get out before the cops came with him freaking out and messing stuff up?!”

“Oi.” Two shoots him a dark look from where he’s finished untying the reporter’s left hand. “Like you weren’t whining about us being digested until you knocked a broom over!”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Well excuse me for trying to save your lives.” Yuu bites back, rubbing the rope marks on their wrists. “Next time I’ll just run and let the sludge monster eat your unconscious bodies.”

“It’d save us all the trouble of this shit if you did!” Ace spits, jabbing a finger at his collar. “At least then we wouldn’t be on Royal’s shit list!”

Yuu lets the piece of information they were just given marinate in their brain as they glare at him. Well, now what exactly was that supposed to mean?

“Ngh...this knot won’t come loose.” Two says from by the reporter’s left foot.

“How about now?” Replies an unfamiliar voice, as a disembodied hand pulls deftly at a loop in the rope.

“Ah!” Two of Spades brightens up as the rest of the rope falls away. “Thanks a lot—”

The disembodied hand punches him in the face.

Yuu cries out in alarm at the sight of the minion falling backwards into the Ace of Hearts, knocking him down like a bowling pin.

A pair of clawed hands are then scooping them up, extra cat and all, and the reporter finds themself looking at the unsettlingly wide smile and purple cat ears of one of the city’s top heroes, running at full speed while sharpened playing cards whizz past his face and Ace calls out behind them “Senpai! It’s him again!!”

There’s a percussive boom somewhere in the distance, and screams of how the flamingos are loose as the hero winks down at Yuu. “Seems you’re a popular one today, kitten! But let’s get you back to where you where before you were so rudely catnapped, yes?”

“Not so fast, hero!” The orange haired guy choruses from the entrance to the staircase, and—from behind them as well?

The reporter’s heart sinks as more and more versions of the minion keep popping up around them, to the point where the hero is forced to stand on the bannister of the balcony they’re on.

And based on the fact that the hero hasn’t used his invisibility? Intangibility? powers, it’s likely that he can’t use them while holding Yuu and the cat.

They’re surrounded.

“You really can’t keep your paws out of anything that’s mine, can you?” Royal Flush’s tone is clipped as he glares up at the hero.

“Hey R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero pouts, hugging Yuu closer to his chest. “I come a~ll this way to play, only to find you’ve got a nyew toy you’re already playing with without me! How mean! You guys really are cruel!!”

“We’re sorry about that.” Three of Clovers says, edging closer. “If you just hand the reporter over to Four, they’ll be put away and we can all “play” together, no distractions. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

The hero makes a deliberating noise, holding Yuu out and away from him over the drop, tilting his head this way and that.

His grin grows unsettlingly wider.

“Look, R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero calls out. “Nyo hands!”

Wait, what—

The hero’s body vanishes.

Yuu and the monster cat plummet screaming past the illogically winding staircases of the evil lair.

Yuu tries to angle their body so that the frantically crying cat will be shielded from the brunt of the fall—!

“NO!!”

There’s a sound like glass shattering, and a feeling of being enveloped in something soft, cold and buoyant. The two of them bounce a few times and land back on it more gently each time.

Yuu cracks open their eyes to see that they’re seated on a strange, red, jelly-like mass. The cat in their arms tentatively sniffs, and then lunges to take a bite out of their cushion before the reporter can stop him.

“Shtrawberry?” He says through a full mouth. “Tashtes good!”

The reporter grabs him before he can go for another bite, a little thrown by his speed now that collar isn’t weighing him down. But where did this thing come from–?

Yuu looks up.

Royal Flush is leaning dangerously far over the balcony countless flights of stairs above them, one arm outstretched down towards them.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Then clawed hands fasten around Yuu’s waist again with a cheery “Nyow wasn’t that fun?” and Royal Flush visibly tenses and begins screaming things after the escaping hero that are barely legible through his rage.

The hero deposits them both outside the TWST news station with their wallet and phone back in their pockets. He at least helps them untie the monster cat, who promptly declares he just let them protect him, and scarpers.

Of course the hero is gone too when Yuu turns back around, before they can ask him what the hell he was playing at, dropping them like that, was he insane?! If Royal Flush hadn’t interfered...

The reporter has to fight the urge to lose their lunch.

Their boss rushes out and envelopes them in a surprisingly powerful hug, the woman almost lifting the reporter off their feet as she babbles about whether or not Yuu needs a hospital after getting kidnapped by one of the seven major supervillains.

Yuuken is quick to join the embrace with a bear hug of his own. He pulls back, fingers prodding gently at Yuu’s bruised temple and declaring he’ll drive them to hospital to make sure they don’t have a concussion.

He graciously waits until they’re in the car to ask why Yuu smells so much of strawberries.

The reporter can only give a half answer, partly because they don’t want to worry him, and partly because they have another question of their own buzzing incessantly around their brain.

Why was Yuu kidnapped in the first place?

Royal Flush never even mentioned Crowley, despite all the chances he had to do so. Not even an oblique or confusing metaphor or code. Does that mean he’s ignorant of the connection between Yuu and the League?

But if that’s the case, it circles back around to the first question: why kidnap Yuu to begin with?

Somehow the reporter doubts it was to just ask their tea preferences or invite them to dinner.

Those minions referred to that monster as Royal Flush’s “precious ingredient”. Ingredient for what? Is there something that Royal Flush thinks they witnessed that’s integral to a scheme? Did they witness something and just not realize it’s significance?

Yuu’s reporter senses are screaming that there’s a deeper story to uncover here. Yuu’s common sense is screaming that investigating the dangerous plans of the supervillain they’ve just escaped from is a terrible idea.

Though he could have just...let them fall. But he didn’t. And won’t he just kidnap them again regardless?

...

This is a terrible idea.

But if Yuu’s common sense was stronger than their reporter senses, then they wouldn’t be in this city in the first place, would they?

[ghostdrew22]

Déjà  vu? || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: Draco Malfoy x ex!fem!reader Warnings: Idk if this is angsty or not because I initially thought it was but it feels a bit like soft sadness to me? Summary: Y/N getting deja vu as you watch Draco with his new girlfriend (H/N - her name)

WORDS : 1950

Lyrics from “Deja Vu” by Olivia Rodrigo (but I got lazy and only used certain parts)

~~~

Car rides to Malibu Strawberry ice cream, one spoon for two And tradin' jackets Laughin’ 'bout how small it looks on you (Ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha, ha-ha-ha-ha)

“Draco stop!” A voice exclaims before being followed by laughter. You know that you shouldn’t turn around, that it’ll hurt too much, but it’s been said many times that curiosity killed the cat.

He’s holding the very same ice cream order, strawberry and pistachio, and sporting that familiar warm smile that used to comfort you when you got a brain freeze from the ice cream. It had been your idea, ice cream in November, and he’d hated it at first but grew to love it just because it made you happy. That very same order that you’d made him try, strawberry and pistachio, but not for the two of you this time.

It’s difficult to know what you were expecting, something new? Different? A part of you had always known, even while you were the one in H/N’s position, that your moments with Draco would soon be documented and used for a modern remake. If your relationship had been a book, theirs is the movie adaption. If your relationship had been a song, theirs is a cover band’s rendition. Maybe, deep down, you were expecting just this- to see him treating her the same way that he’d treated you.

Those pale hands, that used to fit so comfortably in the expanse of your own, are now tucked safely in-between hers. Oceans of blue that used to run over your shivering figure every November when you made this exact Hogsmeade trip, are now tracing the lines of her face and committing them to memory. Lips, cold and slightly chapped, that were once coaxing laughter from your lungs with horrible puns and crude observations, are now completely and utterly consumed with the sole objective of entertaining her the very same way that they entertained you.

It’s a bitter sight, one would think, but you can’t bring yourself to be jealous. It’s an odd sort of feeling, deja vu, to know that once this moment belonged to you, and now you have to watch it play out in front of you. You know what’s going to happen, down to the footprints that’ll stain the path back to Hogwarts, but this time it’s not you. This time, even though you know what’s going to happen next, it’s not your laughter that’ll be filling the silence as he walks back to school.

Watching reruns of Glee Bein’ annoying, singin’ in harmony I bet she’s bragging to all her friends, saying you’re so unique, hmm

“Draco’s obsessed with this muggle show called Glee. He makes me sing along with him every time we watch it.” She says with a small laugh and a shy smile.

Why, in God’s name, did you decide to study in the library today? Sitting on the other side of the bookshelf behind you, with Millicent Bulstrode, is H/N.

“That’s horrendous.” Millicent replies with a laugh. Maybe if you’d tried harder to be friends with her then she would’ve told H/N that Draco used to do that with you too, that you’re the one who introduced him to muggle tv shows in the first place.

“It’s cute, he’s so… different.”

You swallow hard and try to pour your focus back into your books. That tone, sweet and infatuated, was the tone you used only months before when you spoke about him too. Once again you’re on the other side of the looking glass, staring back at a distorted reflection of yourself. It had been you bragging, drowning quite innocently in your adoration for him and feeling the need to sing your praises out to the world.

Way back when, you were the one forcing him to learn the lyrics to all of your favourite songs. The two of you would lose track of time singing along with the actors and complaining about the unnecessary drama, it was this little world that the two of you created. But now that world, that you built on love and trust, can no longer afford to accommodate you both. Now it’s his world with her.

Without even realising it you start to wonder how it must be when he’s with her. Does she sing off-key too? Does he pepper her with kisses after and make fun of her singing? Do they binge watch episodes or only do one at a time? Does his laugh still drown out the talking whenever something ridiculous happens? Is his favourite character still Sue?

How many pieces of your time together did he take from the puzzle, to form a new one with her?

So when you gonna tell her that we did that, too? She thinks it's special, but it's all reused That was our place, I found it first I made the jokes you tell to her when she's with you

“This alcove is where I come when I want to be alone, no one really comes here.”

No one but me, you think to yourself as you stop in the hallway and overhear Draco whispering to her. Of course he took her to your alcove, why wouldn’t he?

A part of you wishes that he’d tell her that it was you who found this spot, that it was you who’d trudged along the castle one night in a desperate search for some peace and quiet. You want her to know that this was your safe space, that you were the one who invited him there and allowed him to relish in the safety that it provided. It was you who laced your fingers together with his own and dragged him behind you until you’d landed in the spot, you who had to listen to his complaints about how small and cramped it was until he finally got comfortable and fell in love with it. You were the one he used to wrap his arms around and make promises to in the silence of the night, when nothing beside the two of you existed in that alcove.

It’s all blurring together, then and now are nothing but two sides of the same rusted coin. How can you possibly distinguish between your memories and reality when the boundaries keep crossing?

You almost want to laugh at how identical your relationship was to the one they have now. Jokes that you came up with in the sludge of sleepiness, when the two of you used to hide out here on nights when you both felt sad, are now being repeated into the very same air that you breathed only months ago. Promises that you’d both agreed to back then, are being remade in the safety of the night that now belongs to them.

“I love you.”

And

“Forever.”

Are being whispered between the two of them, assurances and pacts to be together till the end of time.

But now you wonder, how long is forever?

Do you get déjà vu when she’s with you? Do you get déjà  vu? (Ah), hmm Do you get déjà vu, huh?

The smell of toast and freshly scrambled eggs wafts through the Great Hall and you struggle to resist the urge to moan out in excitement. Breakfast is your favourite meal and, really, the only meal that’s worth anything. As you plop down in your seat and start to pack your plate in your food you fail to notice, in your sheer joy, that Draco’s sitting across from you with H/N by his side.

It’s not until you’re done piling up your favourites, like an Olympic gold medalist in training, that you notice the couple sat across from you. You observe discreetly as Draco outstretches his hand all over the table to get whatever she wants to eat, and you have to struggle to focus as a wave of déjà vu washes over you.

When had you stopped being the one he arranged plates for? When had he started saving a spot beside him for her, and not you? Literally you know that the answer is roughly around 3 or 4 months ago when the two of you had broken up, but he’d stopped being yours a long time before then and you’d both known it. Little moments of love, that had been the basis of your relationship, had fizzled out into distant memories way before you’d both decided to call it quits.

“Butter or jam, Y/N?”

You’re about to answer, on instinct really, when you realise that he’s not even speaking to you.

But he said your name. Didn’t he?

Do you call her, almost say my name? ‘Cause let’s be honest, we kinda do sound the same Another actress I hate to think that I was just your type

“It was mortifying!” You exclaim as you recount the events of earlier to your best friend.

“How bad could it have possibly been?” She asks with a laugh as she settles into your bed comfortably.

“He looked her dead in the eyes, and called her ‘Y/N’, and to make it one hundred times worse, I was sitting across from them when he did it so they both immediately turned to look at me!” You cry out in embarrassment as you drop your face in a pillow. “I’ve never prayed so hard for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.” You mumble against the fabric and you hear her laugh again.

“Why are you so embarrassed? It wasn’t your mistake.”

“It’s not about that, it’s about how easy it would’ve been for us to return to our roles as boyfriend and girlfriend. I almost answered him!” You sigh. “It’s been what? 3? 4 months? And my mouth still acts on muscle memory. We’re so familiar to each other that we still act on instinct.”

“Are you sure it’s not just because your names sound so similar?” She raises her eyebrows at you and you scoff. “Really? Y/N and H/N sound nothing alike?”

“Nope, not at all.”

“Okay, if you say so.” She shrugs, “But deep down I think all three of you know that there’s more similarities present than you’d like to account for.”

You huff in response and cross your arms. Is she right? Does Draco have a type?

Even worse, are you just Draco’s type? Nothing more and nothing less than just another girl who ticks all of his favourite boxes?

I know you get déjà  vu I know you get déjà  vu I know you get déjà vu

It’s on one morning, on one of your good mornings, that it happens.

Months of watching the two of them recreate the love that you’d had with him, suffering in silence and scolding yourself for thinking such awful things about them, finally come to a halt when you receive the acknowledgment that you’ve been so desperately craving.

She walks onto platform 9 and 3/4 in a dress, a purple dress that looks eerily similar to the one you’d worn two years before on this exact platform. She’s smiling brightly, excited for the new school year, and Draco’s waiting for her by the door with a smile that’s just as bright. When his eyes catch her own and she slips her hand into his, he stumbles backward in shock slightly. He immediately looks away from her and searches the crowd, scanning over people climbing into the train and saying goodbye to their families, in a desperate attempt to find you.

It’s too much for him, to see her standing before him and looking like a replica of you, and he needs some sort confirmation to know that he’s not imagining this similarity. The dress wraps around her waist the same way that yours had wrapped around your own waist, and it compliments her skin in a way that’s hauntingly memorable. He knows that he’s seen all of this before, and he knows that it wasn’t with her.

You’re standing a few paces away from the door, watching the scene unfold, and when his ocean blues finally meet yours, you know.

He smiles at you, the first time he’s done so since you broke up, and mouthes exactly what the two of you need to hear.

“Déjà vu.”

And then it’s over- the moment, the agony, the months of confusion- it’s all packed up into a neat box and stored away. He turns with her and they walk into the train together, happily.

You remember this, being the one in her position and walking by his side. You remember the feeling of utter joy that had consumed you, it’s all the same really.

But maybe this time when he promises forever, he’ll mean it.

~~~

This was meant to be way angstier but I got lazy and ended up just wanting to write it out before I ran out of love for the idea.

Anyway, I kind of like it...

love you all,

jean <3

[justasimptm]

The Bride C17

The voice rings clear and stern, tone filled with rage and disbelief. Heisenberg stands a few feet away, leaning on his hammer, watching Moreau hesitant in front of me. It’s kind of funny to me, watching him panic, it’s like he’s hitting all the stages of grief at the same time. His mouth flaps like a fish, which is even funnier given his ugly other form, but to give him credit, he doesn’t back away. Heisenberg barely twitches a finger, but the knife he was holding flies from his hand, banging loudly on the support beam behind us. I feel both relieved and tense still as he steps closer, knowing I’m not alone but unsure how he’s going to deal with this situation.

“Mother wanted me to do another test! I’m making progress!” Moreau whimpers, matching his steps moving backwards, only stopping when he bumps into his little table and trips, falling to the ground with a nauseating wet slap. Heisenberg doesn’t even look at me, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the dolt that’s trying to skitter away from him. “You should-you should go! Let me finish my work!” Heisenberg scoffs at the effort, twisting his fingers slightly to pull the needle from my arm, letting it ping to the ground before sliding the bucket that had started collecting my blood over to him. It sloshes slightly, and I realise he had already started draining me before I woke up.

“I think, you have plenty. And I also think if you ever try something like this again, I will tell Mother Miranda about your betrayal, because that’s what this is, and she’ll cast you out for it. Let her out of your filth.” He hisses, leaving no room for argument or discussion. Within seconds I feel the sludge holding me up release, which is both a relief and a shock, because without it I feel a million pounds heavier and I tumble forward into Heisenberg, who with all his grace, manages to catch me before I hit the ground.

Without so much as letting the other creature breathe a syllable in reply, Heisenberg turns, and promptly stalks from the mines, resurfacing through the hut before walking us slightly downstream. He sets me down carefully on one of the bigger rocks, letting me adjust myself before fully releasing me and sitting down next to me. Part of me wonders how he found me, but part of me doesn’t want to ask, wanting instead to break down slightly and thank him for saving us again, even after our last encounter had been so cold. I scramble for the words to say to break our silence, even a simple thank you not feeling good enough. My buffering seems to register with him, so he fortunately takes the initiative and speaks first so I don’t have to.

“Do you need blood? He got a lot before I got there.” He asks, eyeing me up and down before looking out at the running water. The concern in his voice shocks me for a split second before I reply, humming thoughtfully as I focus on my body to see if I can get it to wake up. He must’ve really taken a good portion of what I had running through me because even now, out of his slime and out in the light, my body feels like it could drop into a coma at any second.

“I will. Before I go home if I can manage it. Thank you for coming, Lord-” I start, watching him from the corner of my eyes so I can look without staring directly. Before I can finish my miniature praise he cuts me off with the waive of his hand.

“I wasn’t gonna let that Fish Chum kill you. And I’m pretty sure I told you to call me Karl.” He states, turning to face me head on, but keeping his attention low as he shrugs off his jacket and rolls up the sleeve of his shirt. My brows furrow at his movement and I have to force myself away from staring at his now exposed arm and flexing biceps as he moves them. “I know I’m probably not preferred dinner, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get anyone fresher.” He mutters and it suddenly strikes me what he’s planning. Before I could protest, both at the intimacy of it and the idea of drinking from him and hurting  him, he pulled a thin knife from his belt and made a small cut across his arm. Not so deep as to cause much damage, but enough to make his blood sing in the air. “Don’t even think about saying no. Can’t have you dying’ on me yet, Doll. I still gotta make you like me.”

His words barely register on my mind as I reach for him on instinct, he pulls me closer to his side, running his fingers through my pinned hair and letting it fall fully loose from it’s half destroyed bun. It’s interesting as I latch on, not biting really, more like suckling, the conscious part of my brain trying not to cause too much harm. What’s even more interesting is that instead of tensing, like most would under the fang of what could arguably be considered a vampire despite our real creation, he relaxes into me. Sighing as my lips close on his skin and I apply the first light pressure of sucking, not flinching as my tongue swipes over the cut he made, tasting him for the first time.

He tastes like the best treats you could imagine. Like a fresh strawberry, dipped in rich dark chocolate, both sweet and bitter, but a perfect combination of both. He tastes like nothing I’ve had before, something I can only imagine could be compared to having your favorite meal at the end of a long week. My eyelids flutter close at the first drop that I pull into my mouth. Trying so hard not to be greedy, but wanting so desperately to bite and drink until I can’t. I think I hear myself whimper slightly, but I’m quickly soothed by his gentle shushing as he runs his fingers through my hair, scraping slightly along my scalp. The paired sensations of his coarse fingers on my head, his calm voice telling me it’s okay and to take what I need is almost too much to handle.

It makes me not want to stop, even though I know I need to. My body feels alive, humming with strength and more energy than I’ve had in years, and I fight every single nerve I have as I pull my stained lips away from his arm. When he asks me if I’ve had enough I almost laugh. No, I want to say, I need more, I need everything, but I say yes, because I am sated, belly full and happy, warmth flowing back to my fingers and my cheeks. His face is tinged red, just so slightly, a thin layer of sweat along his forehead, and for a split second I’m terrified I took too much. But as smoothly as he had rolled it up, he tugs his sleeve back down, nodding to himself. We sit in silence for another minute, letting both of our breathings steady before trying to return to conversation.

At first our conversation is light, he asks how I ended up in the mines, I ask how he knew I was there. Both of us give half truths, evading what we think will embarrass ourselves, but walking on eggshells grows tiresome fast.

“Are you scared of your mother?” He asks out of the blue, making me choke slightly on the breath I was taking. I can’t stop myself from looking around at who might have heard him, but we’re alone, just as we were when we came down.

“My mother is...a very complicated woman.” I start, treading carefully, but he scoffs at my statement, making me smile lightly. “Maybe a bit more than complicated. She’s always wanted what she thought was best for me. For her, really.” The sadness in my voice sobers him quickly. As I find the next words he gently pulls his glasses off, putting them to the side on his jacket. I started explaining that we were both sick, her and I, but she wanted to be cured, leading into her magical find, the thing that would keep her alive for ages. He knows what I mean without having to say it. “She came home that night different. Physically, mentally. She looked like my mother but she didn’t exactly act like her. I was terrified, if I’m going to be honest. She changed me though, even though I…” I can’t finish that sentence, but I don’t have to, judging by the look on his face he already understands. “It took me a while to accept this, and when I finally did she really wasn’t my mother anymore. She was twisted up, and if I’m going to be honest, yes. I am afraid of her. I think everyone should be, really. She has no remorse for anything she does, wanting only for us all to love her. Me, my sisters, Miranda. That’s the only thing that drives her anymore.” What he asks next sends a spear of shock through my gut.

“So why haven’t you left?”

Why haven’t I left? God, that’s a very good question. I can go outside, I can fend for myself quite easily. So why not? The answer is much harder than anything else I could say.

“Because if I leave, I die.” His mouth drops at the bluntness of my response, and I have to fight to keep my voice steady. “My pendant is burned into my chest. If I try to leave, my mother can break the charm on it that keeps the silver poisoning from spreading, and kill me. I stay with her because I’m sick of dying. I’m sick of living. I’m sick of not having a choice on which I do. So I choose to stay, because it’s the only choice I have.” He doesn’t  have a follow up question, and the silence that was once comfortable now feels suffocating. “Thank you for helping me, Karl. I need to get back now. I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”

Without so much as another beat of my heart I swarm, quickly finishing the ascent back up to my home, not reforming until I’m firmly inside the doors.

Heisenberg's POV

When I found her, mounted to the wall like some goddamn experiment, it felt like my entire world stopped moving. She was alive, but the white sheen on her face told me that wouldn’t be the case for very long. I know for a fact that this oaf didn’t ask Miranda if he could do this, so that was my opening, and thank god it worked. I was able to get her out of there before something bad really happened. Out in the sunlight she seems more calm, but she’s still too pale. It strikes me that she needs blood, to replace what he took. I start to scramble mentally, not sure where to find her something to eat, not wanting to leave her to do it.

The thought breezes through my head in a split second. If she needs blood, I think, she can drink mine. Then I think about the parasite infecting my body and I grimace, I doubt she’ll really want that. Still, however, I offer, and a warm tingle goes up my back when she agrees. When she starts mouthing at the cut I made on my arm I fight every fiber of my being to stop myself from shivering. The feeling of her tongue swiping over it, the deep but gentle sucking and the blissed out look on her face is almost too much for me. Almost too much but somehow not nearly enough.

The moment is over almost as soon as it starts. She releases my arm from her hands and pulls back, her breath still ghosting over my skin. I want to tell her she can keep going, just to feel it again, to see her like that, but I know she stopped for a reason so I don’t push it. After steadying our breathing and calming down, I decided to break the silence and try talking to her.

Our conversation is airy, but I can’t stop myself from asking the question I’ve been dying to know the answer to for ages, ‘are you scared of your mother’. When she says yes my blood boils. She tells me how her mother came back fucked up and forced the change onto her. She didn’t want this life either. She tries to keep her voice stable but I can still hear the hints of it shaking. The next question falls from my mouth before I can stop it.

“Why haven’t you left?” I propose. This seems to stump her for a minute, but she pulls her shoulders back and her face droops in resignation. I want to tell her she doesn’t have to answer, but she does before I get a chance.

“Because if I leave, I die.” She tells me, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the throat. She explains how the pendant she has is burned into her body, which explains why I never see it move, and that if she leaves her mother will take the charm off of it and let her die. It’s silver, the same material used to stab her those weeks ago. If I look close enough I can see small back veins around where the pendant sits, evidence that it would kill her. Before I can say anything else she’s gone, whisked back to her tower, far away from me. When she’s gone it feels less warm in the sun, everything somehow dimmer. I’m going to find a way to save her, I think to myself, and nobody will ever hurt her again.

@foggyturtleknightangel @beingviolentlyhappy @inesalexandra1995 @loveboldlywingedangel130

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Kokkuri-san (Loki Oneshot)

Summary: You are on your way back to the Tower when you sense a strange energy emanating from it. Loki is there to help.

Pairing: Loki x F!Reader (established relationship)

Word Count: 1,718

Warnings/Disclaimers: Opens with description of being unable to breathe.

A/N: I tried to provide enough information for this to be a stand alone, but it does still act like a follow-up to Sorceress. And if you would like more information on the game Kokkuri-san, I highly recommend checking out the podcasts Kowabana and Toshiden both created by Tara A. Devlin at Kowabana.net. Just a heads up, this is NOT sponsored by anyone. I just enjoy listening to scary stories, and this became one of my favorites.

Masterlist

Molasses had seeped past your skull, compressing your brain uncomfortably. Or at least that’s what it felt like. A wavering darkness flowed around you as if you were underwater. Your lungs were sluggish to take in air, and it was getting worse. The longer you were forced to endure this pressure, the harder it was for you to focus, to breathe.

-up...

A voice muddled through the inky blackness.

Wa- up...

It sounded so familiar...

Wake up...

Nat, maybe? Were you asleep?

WAKE UP!

Your eyes shot open, unwillingly taking in the light of the Quinjet. The air you sucked in felt like gravel in your throat. Nat’s steely grip on your shoulders were beginning to ground you in reality.

“Wha- What happened?” Your throat burned as you spoke.

“Some kind of dream.” Her concerned eyes bored into you as you tried to blink yourself to full consciousness. “You were breathing heavily before you just stopped altogether. You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you half lied. You didn’t feel nearly as bad in the dream but it still felt like sludge was creeping across your mind. Whatever energy you were getting close to was some kind of nasty. “How far are we from the Tower?”

Nat released you from her hold. “About an hour out.”

The pressure on your head was only growing worse the closer you all got.

“Okay...” you sucked in a deep breath.

Sitting in the seat across from you, Nat eyed you wearily. “You sure you’re good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, pulling out your phone. “Just going to break one of Fury’s rules. Something is going on at the Tower.”

An eyebrow shot up her forehead. “One of those sixth sense things, again?”

“You could say that...”

You pulled up Loki in the messenger app. You could astral project yourself to talk with him, but that could be more dangerous with whatever energy was infecting the Tower.

You: Hey. We’re almost back. What’s going on there?

Loki: Good evening to you as well, Darling. You can feel the energy from where you are?

You: Yes, it’s very... Palpable. ☹️

Loki: Well, we could use the extra help. It seems that the Ant-Man’s daughter played some spirit summoning game before joining him here for the summer.

You: And it followed her... Great... Is she at least okay?

Loki: She is unharmed. More spooked than anything.

You: Good, good. Did she mention any specifics? Like which game?

Loki: She did, yes. Although, she is unsure if she remembers it correctly. I believe she said it was Kakariko.

You: That can’t be right... That’s a village from a video game series.

Loki: So I learned recently with the Spiderling’s assistance.

You: Did she mention anything else?

Loki: She spoke of strange symbols as well as numbers being written in rows on a piece of paper. A coin was used as a conduit to pick each symbol.

You huffed and smacked your head in realization.

Kokkuri-san

Similar to a Ouija board in nature, missing or mucking up a step could be dangerous. Summoning spirits really should not be a game, something you concluded after cleaning up several messes on campus caused by the students who believed themselves master magicians despite their lack of experience. You couldn’t blame them too much for wanting to try since you had played a variety of those games in traveling with your family as a child. In Japan, Kokkuri-san was all the rage in schools.

Bumping your head on the back of the seat impatiently, you checked the time on your phone for the millionth time. You were about twenty minutes away now. Estimating the physical distance, you debated on just teleporting to the Tower instead of waiting in agony during the small amount of time.

Your phone pinged with a new message.

Loki: How are you faring?

You: Better than before. Energy barrier helps. How’re things there?

Loki: I have Lang and Cassie in her room with protection. The spirit cannot reach her there. However, it is lurking about. Stark is none too pleased.

You: He’s not blaming you, is he?

Loki: He tried. It did not last long.

You: Good. We should be there shortly.

Loki: I’ll be waiting, Dove.

Placing the phone in your pocket, you huffed.

“You know,” Nat chimed in, “We should be pretty close now. Just go already.”

Contemplating a moment, you answered, “I don’t know... I’ve only practiced long distance teleportation a few times.”

“And you were successful. Count this as extra practice. Now get out of here.” The harsh sound of her words was mitigated by an encouraging smile.

With a nod, you took a deep breath and teleported to the landing pad. You were about a foot away from the floor when you reappeared. Loki was already there to catch you. The god knew you too well.

“I dare say you might be getting the hang of this.” He held you close like he was making up for lost time.

You reached up and cupped his face to pull him in for a kiss. “Only because I have a very patient teacher.”

“I have missed this,” he breathed, his lips brushing against yours. “But I believe there is a young girl waiting for our help.”

Aside from Stark’s ranting about how ghosts weren’t real, setting up the library went off without a fuss. Between the salt, candles, charms, your spells and Loki’s seiðr, there was no way this could go wrong.

After confirming with Cassie that she had indeed played Kokkuri-san with a new friend who had recently moved to the States from Japan, you had coaxed the whole story out of Cassie. At their slumber party, they had started to play and were spooked by a sudden power outage and strange noises, causing them to let go of the coin used to slide over each symbol. With their connection to the conduit broken before properly closing the game, the kami/spirit latched onto Cassie and followed her here. The best bet was to re-summon the kami in a more secure environment and properly close the game. Luckily for all of you, she had kept the 10 yen coin her friend accidentally left behind, something you needed for all this to work.

You were quadruple checking the last set of charms when Loki snuck up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling your hair. “Everything ready, my little sorceress?”

“As ready as it will ever be,” you huffed before turning on your heel to face him. “This always makes me a bit nervous.”

He pulled back to look at you while he spoke. “Everything will go according to plan. Besides, you have me here. Nothing could possibly go wrong,” he chuckled, a teasing grin painted his face.

“What an ego,” you exclaimed and lightly smacked his chest. You couldn’t help your own smile. “Just go get Scott and Cassie so we can get this over with.”

“As you wish,” he relented, teleporting away after stealing a kiss to leave you flustered. It was certainly one way to lighten the mood.

The summoning had gone well enough. Both you and Loki knew for sure just by the feel of the energy the right kami had come. It was getting it to leave that was the problem.

“Kokkuri-san, please return.”

The coin slid to いいえ/iie no matter how many times you all reset it to the middle of the board.

No.

While you and Loki both grew in frustration, Scott was busy keeping Cassie calm. As level headed and clever this girl could be, the repetition was getting to her. Loki decided another tactic was in order. A few unintelligible words under his breath that you barely heard and the kami was visible on the table.

A tall kitsune clad in white and red robes hissed and glared at Loki, but made no move to attack. It knew it had no chance with all the preparations you two had done. Its four tails flicked in annoyance and its white, almost silvery ears pressed back. You held back a sigh of relief. This kitsune was not as strong as it could be, having not lived long enough to acquire its maximum nine tails and its full power.

“What is it you desire, Spirit?” Loki spoke loud and unwavering.

“Same as Mischief God. Fun,” it growled through its broken English. Despite the ability to hear it now, none of you dared remove your fingers from the coin.

“Well, you certainly have had your fill. Now begone! Return to your realm,” he challenged.

The kitsune’s tails waved wildly as it contemplated its next move. Its eyes flitted to Cassie, softening almost apologetically as it gazed upon her. Similar to its Western Fae counterparts, it did not fully understand that its version of fun was not the same as it was for mortals.

“分かりました。/Wakarimashita,” it huffed, bowing as it turned its attention back to you and Loki.

Understood.

You felt the coin move again. This time it was to the top left of the paper to hover over はい/hai. Yes.

It then promptly glided to the torii gates drawn in the top center. The kitsune vanished from the table, the energy it left behind dissipating rather quickly. You all said, “Thank you,” in unison before pulling away from the coin.

“So... Is that it?” Scott asked with a mixture of confusion and the need to ensure his daughter was safe.

“Not quite,” you mused while picking up the paper.

“What do we do?” Cassie chirped.

Your raven-haired god looked to you curiously. You didn’t tell him about the next part.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you grinned, “The next two parts are easy.”

Picking up the paper, you began tearing it. You counted as you went until you hit forty-eight.

You held up the coin for all to see. “Now. Part two is going to be more interesting.”

“Do tell,” Loki purred.

“We have to spend this within three days.” Your grin slipped into a more mischievous smirk.

Cassie’s eyes sparkled with hope. “So does that mean...”

“Uh-huh. It’s time for a vacation. Who wants to go to Japan?”

[evakuality]

Maybe? “I don’t trust myself but I do trust you so that’s good enough!” for Davenzi?

Anon, this turned out a bit more melancholy than I intended but I hope you like it anyway.

It’s been one of those days, the ones where David feels wrung out, torn up and pummeled over his entire body. As if his skin has stretched so thin it’s become see-through. Nothing has gone well, nothing he’s tried to create has ended up looking like it was supposed to. Nothing about him even feels right. There’s a weary ache hanging over every inch of his body and he just wants to curl up into a tiny ball and stop being for a while. He itches to spill out of his skin and leave all of these concerns behind, become something new.

But he can’t. He’s stuck in this life with this body and this skin. So he drags himself home, forces his feet to move even though they’re screaming out against the long, slow drag to their apartment.

Because at least there’s that, their apartment. And there’s Matteo and the life they’re building together. Matteo who has all his own shit, of course, but who somehow seems to get it, who manages to see through all the shit David can sometimes let himself drown in. Intellectually, David even knows he’s not being entirely rational. Deep inside, somewhere safe and secure, he knows nothing that’s happened or is happening is unsalvageable. But in the deepening gloom of this cold late Autumn evening, when his body is chilled through and everything feels wrong, it’s not easy for David to hang onto that knowledge. Not when everything seems so bleak, not when nothing is right and everything feels so wrong.

He remembers another day, much like this one. Some assholes at school had trashed his work, telling him in minute, agonising detail exactly why everything he’d created sucked and why he was never going to be worth anything as any sort of film maker. In hindsight, they’d had some points that were worth considering but most of what they’d said came down to personal opinion. But at the time, on that day, David hadn’t had the capacity to see that.

So he’d stumbled, exhausted and heart-sore, into Matteo’s arms. He’d crumbled, managing to grate out everything that was wrong about him, his work, his thoughts, his everything. His voice cracking, David had analysed his own failings into Matteo’s embrace. Matteo had held him, listening, his breath warm and comforting on David’s neck as his arms had wrapped him up in a cocoon of warmth. The pain hadn’t been dulled, but it had felt nice to have someone else there while he was experiencing it. To have Matteo there, non-judgemental and surprisingly calm.

“You done?” Matteo eventually whispered against David’s hair once he’d wound to a stop, unable to make himself say any more, having exhausted every possible thing that was shit about him.

“No,” David had whispered back. “But I’m too tired to go over it all again.”

“Okay,” Matteo had nodded, as if he’d understood exactly what David was doing and thinking and feeling. And maybe he had. He had his own issues, after all.

They’d ended up on the couch in Matteo’s living room, hands clasped together as if they were some sort of lifeline. Which wasn’t all that far from the truth. In the whirling, chaotic mess of his head, the only thing David had been able to focus on was Matteo. His hand in David’s settled him somewhat.

As if he’d understood that, Matteo had run his fingers over David’s up and down, around and around in a soothing pattern.

“You’re wrong, you know,” Matteo had said eventually, squeezing David’s fingers reassuringly when he’d jolted, pain slicing him that Matteo of all people would say something like that. “None of that’s true.” He’d raised David's fingers to his lips, brushing them with a brief, gentle kiss. “My therapist always tells me that when I start going on that way.” He’d laughed. “It pisses me off, but eventually I realise she’s right. Every damn time. Nothing’s as bad as I think.”

He’d been silent for a few moments, thinking his way through what he wanted to say. David hadn’t really been able to say anything, and a large part of him had been so offended that Matteo would suggest his feelings weren’t right or real.

Again, Matteo seemed to get it in that eerie way he had. Because he’d added, “I know you don’t believe me. I know you don’t want to believe me. But here’s the thing. After the first time, when I came back another day, she asked if I still felt like she was shit and didn’t know anything. Of course I said no, because I’d come out of whatever funk I was in and I could see more clearly. And she laughed, and said, ‘so maybe trust me next time, when you can’t trust yourself?’ and it’s worked out for me.” Matteo shrugs, and smiles down into David’s face. “I dunno. It might not work for you. And I know right now everything sucks. But I wanted you to know.”

“Okay,” David had whispered. He hadn’t been ready to take any of that on board, still felt like shit. Still wanted to drown in every bad thought that had invaded. Still felt really annoyed that Matteo would speak to him this way, dismissing his feelings like this. But the intent had been good, and despite all the shittiness he’d been feeling, David could feel that shining through. It hadn’t worked, not that day. Not the way Matteo might have wanted.

But over time, it had changed things in some small way. Over time, David had learned to step back, even in those moments when it all felt so overwhelming. I don’t trust myself but I do trust you so that’s good enough! It became his mantra. On days like today, when Dvaid feels such an all-encompassing sense of his absolute wrongness in the world, Matteo’s words reverberate in his head, and he comes back to the main idea. I don’t trust myself but I do trust you so that’s good enough!

David clicks his key into their lock, now that he’s finally home. Light spills out, and warmth. The grey of the day he’s been sludging through is pushed back and away. David doesn’t feel good, not by a long shot. But he can hear Matteo’s voice raised in a terribly off-key Italian song, he can smell the food Matteo is preparing, he can feel the warmth of the heating that’s clearly been on for a while. It’s enough. His brain is still thrusting ideas and images at him, it’s still trying to tell him how shitty his work is, how worthless he is. It’s trying. But behind that is everything that’s in front of David.

I don’t trust myself but I do trust you so that’s good enough!

He pushes forward into the light. He takes a leap of faith, and steps forward into the trust he has in Matteo.

[gerudosage-a]

UPDATING & ARCHIVING.

well lads, it’s been a fair bit since i’ve been here & been here properly, hasn’t it ?

i’m gonna be real with you - i don’t like talking about my personal life, more specifically my personal problems, on my rp blogs. i prefer to keep my hobbies & my mental health separate, & honestly, you guys aren’t here for me to just dump all of that on ! so i was pretty vague about things when my mental health started to take a downswing & started to impact my creativity & my ability to write for the past … while. i don’t know how long it’s been, honestly - the pandemic has fucked with my sense of time enough without depression getting in on the action. i can only apologize for that, & for how many people i left in the lurch, it wasn’t my intention at all, but hobbies tend to be the first thing to go for me when i’m in a period of bad depression, & discord wasn’t far behind, so i’m so sorry if you reached out to me & didn’t get a response over the last while, it’s not because of anything you said or did, the blame lies entirely with me.

with that said, things have started to look up again, in the sense that the worst of this period seems to be over, & honestly ? although i should have given you all more warning, stepping back from tumblr for a while was good, i think, & it really recharged my creative batteries ! i would’ve been back earlier, but i uhhhhhh fulfilled a childhood dream of mine & got my hands on a drum kit within the last month & honestly, i’ve been putting a lot of time & energy into learning how to play them at the minute, & i’m having a fucking blast doing it ! can’t actually play anything yet, but we’ll get there when we get there !

but as fun as the drums have been, i’m ready to get back to writing ! i’ve missed it all, really, & being back on the dash for e3 was just great, honestly, it was nice to see this little corner of the rpc go slightly feral over the second botw 2 trailer :’) i wanted to take a moment before coming back to get all my ducks in a row & tidy up this blog, but between the two tagging systems i have, the amount of personal blogs in my notifications ( especially since e3, which is honestly my fault, but still a little annoying ) & just general inactivity, i think i would prefer a change.

so, this blog is now an archive ! nabooru can be found at the same url at the new & improved version of gerudosage dot hell, which i took some time to spruce up ! my rules have been refreshed & rewritten, as has nabooru’s biography ! for those who are unfamiliar with the canon of the zelda series, i’ve set up a lore tab which they can have a read of, as well as little sections within detailing just what, exactly, applies to nabooru, so they know where things stand with her. i’ve also completely re - done my verses, adding a few new ones that i’ve mentioned on the blog before, but never got around to before my brain temporarily turned to sludge.

so, that’s that, really ! nabooru has gotten a revamp, & honestly, i’m hoping to do the same with my other blogs too, as they all fell by the wayside when the Big Sad kicked in. i’d like to be optimistic & say that i’ll have hylianremnants completely ready to go for the skyward sword hd release, but i’m not going to rush myself on it - i can write sky without it being completely finished, & it will be ready when it’s ready ! & the same goes for fabletold, which, as much as i love it, the characters & the plots i have, was just an unfortunately timed blog ! they’ll both be making a comeback, for sure, but at the moment, my main focus is going to be nabooru again. so, that’s what’s happening ! i want to thank everyone who’s been so patient & lovely to me over the past couple of months, & everyone who’s been writing with me since this blog was first made. every single one of you are absolute stars, & i really hope to see you on the other side !

( also, if anyone is giving out medals for writing up fifty verse summaries, i am accepting.  )

much love, guys, & thank you all again ♡

[klainebrittana]

TW - Vomit

Chapter 2!!

Augusts Pov

Going outside was a pleasure that not many of us had got to experience. In fact, before everything changed this was the only time we had been able to. It was so exciting when it happened but so heartbreaking for me to think about now. Me and May got to walk out first then everyone else although Matron was slightly longer for reasons only now, I could understand. The outside world was breathtaking. We lived in a forest. Right by a pond. Water nymphs danced and smiled at us. One held our hands and started to pull us somewhere unknown. Me and May looked at each other and went with them. We decided we would with a look. A look of curiosity and wonder. A look of longing. A longing to get out of the cage of an ordinary life. Now all I want is an ordinary life. The Nymph stared at me, I stared back. Their eyes were blue and massive. The rest of their face, and body, a cerulean colour. Its tiny hand was gripped on my finger, pulling gently. I stumbled forwards.

But right then Matron walked out the door. Scaring all the nymphs away. It was like they had just vanished. Suddenly none of them were dancing, there were none in the water, none that could be seen with the naked eye. All was silent. To this day I still wonder what could have happened. What could have happened if they did take us. If Matron had been a couple of a seconds longer. If we had vanished with them.

“Little Vermin.” Matron said.

“Matron!” We said.

“They’re beautiful.” Dianthe said. Dianthe was quiet and thoughtful. She was peaceful, never wanted harm to come to anyone, she would help everyone and always saw the best in anyone she met.

“Ah, so that’s what you think. You’re so uneducated that you think that.” Matron said. Everyone stood in confusion. Why were we uneducated? What do we not know? “The nymphs.” She spat the word out and said it with an extreme amount of disgust. “Are evil. The nymphs you so foolishly called beautiful are monsters who fight alongside him.” Everyone was shocked. Especially me and May. We nearly went with them. What if they had corrupted us was one of the many thoughts that ran through my head. They wouldn’t have done though. They were fine. Matron was the one who corrupted us.

“What do you mean?” Alexa said quietly.

“I am so sorry Matron I didn’t know.” Dianthe said quickly. She said it with so much repulse with herself that I felt terrible especially now that I know about the lies Matron was spewing, I still can’t believe she let her feel like that for no reason.

“Tell us more!” Brendon said.

“Well, if I have to and its fine Dianthe just make sure you know all the information before you speak.” Matron said and was greeted by eager nods. We were all curious to what might happen. Matron though looked scared her hands were shaking and she looked like she was thinking very hard. Now I know why.

“Well,” She took a long pause. “A… thousand years ago, no 10, 000 years ago their um was no conflict, do we all know what that means?” She asked this as she remembered that most of us were very young. A couple of the younger ones, including me, shook their heads.

“It means no fighting or war.” Alexa butted in before gesturing to Matron as if to carry on.

“But then, no… no one really knows what happened.” She gave a nervous laugh. “But I guess the man of whom no one knows his real name. He got to powerful and umm he- he- he began stealing from other people and umm killing innocent people.” She sounded unsure of what she was saying, like none of it was real. Younger me just passed it off as her just not wanting to scare the younger kids. There was still some doubt in the corner of my brain though. “The umm nymphs went on his side and the world was split into two sides. Good and evil, evil and good. Then flash forward to now and he’s still out there because he’s immortal… he lives forever, and there is the good army who fights to defeat him and his army who just wants to take over the world. The end now lets go to the carnival.”

She finished the story abruptly and started striding to the teleporting unit, we all hurried after her, asking a variety of questions as we walked.

“How do you know about this?”

“Is he going to kill us too?”

“I’m scared, how are the rest of you not scared?”

“What if he steals all my books?”

“I can’t believe we thought they were beautiful; how did we think they were beautiful?”

“ENOUGH!” Matron shouted. We all looked down at our feet and she took a deep breath in. “Right come on, get on the platform.”

We all huddled on the small platform and I whimpered. May gripped my hand harder. “Remember the technique I told you.” She whispered. I tried to focus on 5 things I could see, 4 things I could hear, 3 things that I could smell, 2 things I could feel and 1 thing I can taste. It was called grounding, May told me to do it every time I was scared. I was close to crying but I took deep breaths in and out.

Wooden platform, trees, bushes, lake in the distance, clear sky

My heart beat, trickling stream, ragged breathing, chattering children

Sandwiches matron brought, grass, the sweet smell of chocolate

Mays’s hand, cold grass beneath my feet

I couldn’t think of anything I could taste; I racked my brain. My breakfast I guess

I took more deep breaths I was getting slightly better but I was still scared. I started to pick my nails, I’d forgotten my fidget toy at home and my noise cancelling headphones. Why didn’t I bring them, I wanted to kick myself. My breathing started to become more ragged and I concentrated on deep breaths. My finger started bleeding and I opened my eyes wide. No, no, no not now I thought. I touched it and my finger came away a deep crimson. I grabbed a tissue out of my pocket and put pressure against the cut. This is what happens when I pick my nails. It really stung and I was grimacing.

I hated it; I was terrified. My eyes started watering and I crouched down on the floor curling into a ball. Tears left my eyes and I felt May sit beside me and I felt her warm breath against my ear. She was saying something to me that I couldn’t understand. Everything was a blur including all the voices around me. I heard Matron say something that sounded like numbers. She was facing a different way to me and hadn’t seen me on the floor. Then it happened, the thing that I hate.

I had never teleported before and I would learn that I never wanted to do it again. Even though I would have to.

It felt as if we were in a ball of red light. An angry red. A deep red. You could see flashes of electricity every now and then and it felt as if you were moving at the speed of light, it made me feel sick. I could see some terrified expressions, some excited expressions, someone even let out a whoop, and others like mine. Mine looked like I was going to be sick and I looked like I was terrified. That’s because I was going to be sick and I was terrified. This lasted about five minutes. May was hugging me tight she was one of the people with a face like mine, Alexa had her hand clamped over her mouth and Peter was the boy who whooped. Dianthe didn’t look particular great either. She was in the middle of everyone though. It may take her a little while to get out of there if she is sick like us. Which she was. Matron however stood calmly and collectively, not phased in the least.

When it finished, I got off as soon as I could, hyperventilating. Alexa and may got off with me Alexa because she was going to be sick and May for the same reason as Alexa and because she wanted to comfort me. Vomit pooled beneath us all and we heaved and heaved on all fours gasping. It was horrible. I had ruined my favorite shoes and blazer. Just when I thought it had finished, I gripped the grass as more sludge left my mouth. Sweat dripped down my brow. I was shaky and pale, my face red and flustered.

Then Dianthe came running over but didn’t get here in time and vomited all over my head. It dripped down and went into my mouth. I threw up for the 6th time. I could see little bits of mushed up strawberry and banana. The cheerios were mostly in tact. Just the smell and the look of it made me dry heave. The smell was sour and unpleasant, a bit like grated parmesan cheese. I slowly crawled away from the puddle I had been sitting in, the other 3 followed suit. I felt weak and frail. This was not a good start. I could taste my breakfast in my mouth as well as the disgusting taste of vomit. It did not taste nearly as good as it did on the way down.

Then matron strode over rolling her eyes. “What drama queens.” She murmured. “Right then I guess let’s clean you up. I brought extra clothes for all of you in case this would happen. We tried to stand up slowly but it took us a little while. What had happened had taken all the energy out of us. I tried to breath deeply but it was hard and I was still scared. I felt terrible for May though. This was her birthday. And she had been sick. Her birthday.

“Thank you.” Alexa whispered her voice hoarse. I put my hand over my mouth. Was it happening again? But luckily, I was fine and I swallowed it down. The me and May ran back to our positions and heaved for the last time. I wanted to go home. I’m very prone to this stuff and so is May. Neither of us know why. Alexa and Dianthe started at us and I went beetroot red. I didn’t want them watching. At this point I told myself that from now on if I felt I would throw up I would just have to swallow it, however disgusting it may be.

“Right August, May, Dianthe and Alexa I’m going to grab the clothes and a bucket of water for you August and then you can get changed behind those bushes.” We wiped our mouths. I cant believe that happened. It was horrifying and embarrassing, the rest of the kids had obviously been watching.

I looked at the clothes Matron had given me it was a suit and some sleek, black shoes with laces. I had given a weak smile. She had got them for me. At last. I had been begging for them for so long and she had got them. May got a gorgeous pink dress, Alexa goa white top and a lilac cardigan and a black skirt with daisies on it. Dianthe got a blue dress with like poppies, lavender and primrose on. We were all very happy with them and thanked Matron profoundly.

We got changed and then went back to Matron to walk the short way to the theme park. “Of we go then.” Matron said and then we walked. A couple of times Dianthe and Alexa shouted wait in case it happened again but then it didn’t so we were fine. It even got to the point where we were all given buckets just in case. We also all had to walk at the back.

“Hey August,” Dianthe whispered, almost as quiet as a mouse. “I am so sorry I did not mean to do that; I just didn’t get there in time and…” She trailed off.

“It’s fine, I know you didn’t, I forgive you.” I said and then she trotted off back to Alexa as they chatted.

“Are you ok May.” I asked. I was worried, she looked really bad back there. Although maybe I did too.

“Yeah, but are you?” She said and I stared at her in confusion. “You know when we were going through the portal and when we were all ill you were the worst out of all of us.”

“I was?” I said.

“Yes! You looked terrible and you were sick so many more times than the rest of us. Also, you were really hyperventilating back there, I think you were having a panic attack, that’s the worst I’ve seen you in ages. You were doing so well!” She said mournfully.

“I know…” I said looking down. “I know.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, just know if you need to talk about it, I’m always here you know.”

“Ok.”

Then we moved on from the subject. That wasn’t fun for any of us. I wasn’t going to spend any more time dwelling on it.

We could see tree nymphs and we walked slightly quicker. It was like they were beckoning us. They wanted us to come with them. I thought they were beckoning us to the dark side but now I realize they were doing something different. Something very different. Tree nymphs were always a lime green and they blended in with the tress, sometimes turning a chocolate brown to blend in. These ones didn’t though. They wanted us to come. I thought I shouldn’t go, I thought I was making a good decision. I thought I was being smart for once. Instead, I was ruining my life and I didn’t even know it.

The walk was painfully slow, and painful full stop. My legs were still weak and after 15 minutes were aching a lot. Although now I look at it that could have been the reason, we were able to get the warning. I think it could have been anyway. Or it could have been just fate. Were we always meant to get the warning?

When we finally got to the carnival everyone was tired and grumpy so matron had to let us get candy floss. That was the start of it. The start of those horrific events. The start of a war.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed, Evie :)

[bunny-hoodlum]

I'm not dead!

But I did totally blank out (afain) on this side of the interwebs and I am very, very sorry about that. 🥺 Tbh, I was going to ease back into the Tumblrsphere, cuz I had turned on notificiations for like all of a minute a couple months ago... And then I couldn't watch WandaVision in private listening mode without the audio cutting out from the notifications. XD I feel like I'm somehow showing my age because surely that shouldn't be such a hindrance... Well anyways, I turned off notifications right away and forgot about everything since then. Q n Q

My current brain space in order has been: Kipo: Age of the Wonderbeasts, Dr. Stone, Jujutsu Kaisen, Heaven's Design Team, I've dyed my hair 3 times again, I'm wondering when I can get my ears pierced budget-wise (I'm literally hitting my 13yo milestone at 30, I'm such a late-life bloomer)... I've been eating almost nothing but salad for the past week or two, Idk, the days blur together and time means nothing to me anymore... Going back to shows!!! My recent headspace is: My Hero Academia -- YES I'M FINALLY BINGING IT -- Tokyo Revengers, ODD TAXI (I loooove this unique anime, it's like a gritty Parappa Rappa), Shadows House ... I still have to watch To Your Eternity but I'm going to be all over that!! And I recently decided to watch Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle. I absolutely love it. What I wasn't loving was the Funimation captions being too early since jokes are ALL ABOUT THE TIMING! So I'm still on ep 4.

Will I ever really talk about any of these? Or draw fan art ever again? I have no idea. The urge never crosses. The images never visit my mind anymore.

I'm just dropping this here because it's been awhile and I am alive but I've just got the worst attention span and I will check my messages again just like I always do before I disappear again -- I'm not actively working on anything that I would share on tumblr so that is why I forget to come on here -- what was I getting to? Right, anyways...

I haven't forgotten about the stories I need to update and repost (like "Powerless") but my procrastination keeps kicking in because the amount of time it feels like I'll have to put in towards that stuff is overwhelming, and when it all turns into a multi-project sludge in my brain, I just go hide in video games and shiznots. 😔 Ugh.

Even the thought of updating on FFN is intimidating me. I'm pretty sure all my old files are gone by now because I haven't refreshed them. So to re-upload "Powerless" is literally going to be like from scratch. Not writing it, I mean the editing. The italicization and the bolding and the scene separation!!!

I wish I hadn't deleted it the first time after all. Q_Q It could've just sat there accruing hype or yearning or whatever. Ugh.

Okay, so why is my attention span so bad honestly? Well, I have the chance to not work slave wage and instead actually focus on my 'art'. Ofc my fine motor skills are rusty and my digital drawing program skills are severely lacking. When everyone else has kept at it, I fell behind. That's what it is and what it feels like. I'm just at a hobbyist level, like, it's really, really bad. And I'm struggling not to look back on my life and question why I didn't do more to make sure I went to art school. Like actually work buttloads to go to VCUArts. Idk, my mom 10 yrs ago was like 'you need a car', as if I can't exist anywhere outside her reach without one. But I would've tried to live in the dorms and just bike. UGH. WHY DIDN'T I JUST DO THINGS AND SAID FUCK ALL TO OTHER PPLS WORRYING??!

Sorry. Ahem.

On the other hand... There's Skillshare and Schoolism and things, and even some Youtuber art pros have discord critique days or whatever, and all that is supposed to be a better investment than 200k debt, but I still keep feeling like I avoided really important experiences and that I'm still disadvantaged. I'm prolly am being pessimistic but it feels so objectively true. Ugh. I just don't see the self-taught vs formal education gap ever closing in a satisfactory way.

I forget what my point is. I wish I could update my fics, I really wish I could schedule some time in, but I haven't been able to properly think about any of it for the past three weeks I think. Another thing that's currently occupying my headspace is an artist that goes by HeartMush. I don't want to @ them because I don't want them to see my whining, but I'm sooooo enamored with their skills and envious of their formal education. And other things. Which you could find on their website contained within their downloadable CV. T_T This person feels like a prodigy to me. Lesigh.

Anyways, if I ever come back again, hopefully it'll be some art that I'm proud of. Maybe whenever I get there, I'll have clearer feeling how much farther my goal really is, and that should be enough for me.

[iron--spider]

there’s something wrong

Peter thought he would be happy, after he took the Goblin down. 

 It’s been a long time coming. Almost a year trying to figure out who the hell he was, then finding out and dealing with that shit, because who the hell can target Norman Osborn and get away with it? Tony helped, but Peter doesn’t like bothering him with stuff like this after everything he’s been through. He’s been through enough, and he doesn’t need Peter bringing more problems to his door. He brought him back to life, he saved the world, that—that should be enough. More than enough. Beyond enough.

 The battle was five days ago, and Norman, being who he is, threw everything he had at Peter. They were at his Hell’s Kitchen power plant, and Peter could barely breathe, there was so much smoke from the overloaded stacks, and he was sure Norman was trying to blow them both up, end it in a fiery blaze with Spider-Man’s corpse emblazoned on the front page of the Bugle. 

 But, despite the damage to the suit, despite the massive concussion and broken arm they had to reset that night at the facility, Peter finished it. His eyes were burning and his mask was destroyed and Norman knew who he was, but he finished it. 

 But Peter isn’t happy.

 The doctors said Norman might not wake up again. That set Tony’s mind at ease, knowing Peter’s identity was locked inside his decaying mind, but it made Peter’s guilt flare up like the fire did all around the two of them in the otherwise darkness of that night. He hates that he can’t help these people. He hates that they hate him. That they’ll never allow themselves to come back from what they’ve turned towards.

 He thought it was that making him sick, at first. The guilt. 

 “What’s wrong?” Ned asks, from beside him on Peter’s bedroom floor. “Do you miss your girlfriend? I can’t believe you have a girlfriend. I can’t believe it’s Michelle.”

 “Nothing’s wrong,” Peter snaps. He tries to focus on his paper, but his hand feels like it can barely support the fucking pencil. “Leave me alone, I’m trying to do this.”

 “Peter…”

 “Ned,” Peter says. He sighs, and turns over, laying on his back. He drops the pencil and covers his face with his hands. “Just stop, please.”

 “There’s something wrong with you,” Ned says. Peter feels him reach over and pat his head. “I know you’ve been through a lot lately. But you’re being snappy.”

 “I’m fine,” Peter says, voice muffled. 

 “Maybe you should ask for an extension on this paper?” Ned asks.

 “And what would my excuse be?” Peter asks. “Can’t tell him I almost just died fighting the Green Goblin, Ned.” Almost died. He’s exaggerating, but sometimes it feels that way.

 “Could tell him you’re sick,” Ned says.

 “Jeffords won’t care,” Peter says. “And anyways, I’m not.” He feels like his whole face is numb, and he sighs. He’s stressing himself out too much. “I gotta eat something. I have a bad taste in my mouth.” He twists around, pressing his hands to the carpet as he pulls himself to his feet. He hasn’t done much patrolling since the Goblin fight, only a couple nights here and there, but he feels like his muscles are crying out for him to take a big break. 

 “You just ate!” Ned yells after him, as Peter stumbles into the living room.

 “Stop judging me!” Peter yells back. His mouth tastes like blood, but he’s definitely not gonna tell Ned that. There’s probably something wrong with his gums or something. Maybe he brushed too hard...this morning. Or something.

 He sighs, and looks for chocolate, already planning on making tonight an early night.

 “Just bring me something too!” Ned says.

 ~

 MJ: Are you still feeling bad?

 PETER: I’m fine, I’m fine, I promise

 MJ: literally cannot believe you’re lying to me

MJ: you know I see through your lies we’ve dealt with me seeing through your lies

 PETER: love that you’re concerned :)

 MJ: that’s kinda part of my job description now, isn’t it?

 PETER: i’m fine totally fine completely fine

 ~

 Two days later, it’s…

 Has it only been two days?

 Jesus, Peter doesn’t know.

 He can’t think.

 Something’s wrong, but he doesn’t know what the hell it could be. He hasn’t been out anywhere, but his mind questions that, because he can’t remember. He can’t remember the last time he went out patrolling, what the hell happened when he did. He can’t remember shit. 

 His whole face feels frozen, and school is a complete and utter lost cause. He barely hears Ned when he tries to get his attention, and he doesn’t eat anything at lunch. MJ runs her hands up and down his back and it feels good but he can barely concentrate on it. 

 He shouldn’t be able to get sick anymore. He rarely does, now that he’s enhanced, and if he does it goes away within a day, at the latest.

 Peter feels like Ned is talking to him one moment and then the next, he’s in the back of Happy’s car. He’s cutting in and out.

 He leans down, bracing his elbows on his knees, and he feels like he’s shaking. He doesn’t know if he actually is. He feels like he’s deep within his body, small and broken and sad, watching as he falls apart. 

 Is this his guilt? Tearing him up? For Norman Osborn? It wasn’t this bad when Ben died. It wasn’t this bad when he almost lost Tony. Now he’s feeling guilt about his guilt and there’s a certain kind of sadness draping over him that he hasn’t seen the likes of before. It’s heavy and stifling and feels out of place, like it doesn’t belong to him.

 He blinks and rubs at his eyes.

 “Are you even hearing me?” Happy asks. “What the hell is going on? I’ve never seen you this out of it before. Well, on a normal day. And that’s assuming today is a normal day.”

 Maybe Peter has to accept that something is going on. But what the fuck would be going on? He hasn’t done anything of worth since the fight—

 —but he can’t remember.

 And is that the problem? The fact that he can’t remember? Or is the problem that he did do something? And he can’t remember it?

 His head feels like sludge. He presses his hands to his face and it feels like he doesn’t have a face anymore. Or hands. He shakes his head and his stomach turns. 

 “Okay, Peter, you need to tell me what’s happening, because if I drag you into the facility acting like this with no warnings for Tony—”

 “There’s something wrong,” Peter mutters, and just talking makes him feel like he’s gonna puke.

 Next thing he knows they’re not driving anymore, and Tony is there, peeling him out of the car. They’re at the facility but he doesn’t remember arriving, doesn’t remember half of the ride. Peter sighs, and can barely stay on his feet once he’s on solid ground, and Tony gets a good hold around his waist.

 “I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Tony says, close to Peter’s ear. “Jesus, he’s pale, Hap.”

 “Something’s wrong,” Peter whispers. He tries to think back, tries to measure how this played out and where it started, but his brain pulls up blue screens, because he fucked up, because he’s been ignoring how he’s been feeling and how he’s been deteriorating each day—and what the hell did he do? What did he do, what was his mistake? Where did he make it?

 Tony groans but he bends a little and picks Peter up—he’s got the iron arm now, so it’s probably easier—and Peter squeezes his eyes shut tight, turning his face into Tony’s shoulder as he rushes him into the facility. He doesn’t even have the energy to make a joke about being carried like a baby.

 “Can you tell me what’s wrong?” Tony asks, gently. “Tell me what hurts. And what happened.”

 “I don’t—know what happened,” Peter whispers, his own voice rattling in his head like metal clanging down a well. “Mouth tastes like blood. Uh. Muscles weak. Hurts to breathe. Bad mood, uh, feel sick. Sad. Nervous. Been getting worse, day by day, but I’ve been—ignoring.” He sighs, hates how it sounds. “I’m sorry.”

 “No sorry,” Tony says. “Just hold on. I’ve got an idea of what might be going on and if it’s that we gotta get on it stat.” Peter feels the terrain change under Tony’s feet, and he knows they’re getting closer to the side door. “Happy, call the Raft’s people and find out if Osborn is sick, please.”

 “Got it,” Happy says.

 Peter squeezes his eyes shut tighter and one of his arms flops down. He’s just exhausted. “Sorry I ignored it,” he whispers. “I wasn’t. I wasn’t sure what—”

 “Don’t worry,” Tony whispers. 

 But he sounds worried.

 ~

 They get Peter into the med bay and he wouldn’t exactly call what he’s doing blacking out, but more like stepping back. He retreats further into his head and everything becomes muted, because there’s so much going on and people running around everywhere and a fleet of doctors surrounding him and hooking him up to shit and his head hurts the more he pays attention. His senses are off. Loud then nothing. Everything out of whack.

 Peter keeps his eyes closed.

 “Osborn was trying to poison the both of them,” Happy’s voice says, somewhere in the ether. “There was goddamn mercury in the air, Tony—”

 “I thought so,” Tony’s voice says, closer, grave. “Okay, okay, can we—”

 “Yes, we can start—”

 “Remember, he’s enhanced so things are different, things affect him differently, Norman probably thought of that—”

 “It’s under control—”

 Peter groans and tries not to listen. He doesn’t know how much time passes but he knows he’s being poked and prodded and given things and moved around and he doesn’t want to open his eyes.

 He feels a hand on his forehead. Another on his forearm. He doesn’t open his eyes, but he turns towards the warmth. 

 “I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony whispers. “We should have checked you for something like this when we were resetting your arm and checking on the concussion. Goddamnit. We didn’t think.”

 “He poisoned us both?” Peter asks, trying to open one eye to look at him.

 “Yeah,” Tony says, brushing Peter’s hair back from his forehead. “He’s dying. He got the brunt of it, a nice fucking cocktail of bullshit, including mercury and a bunch of other toxic shit—”

 “Am I dying?” Peter whispers, voice breaking.

 “No,” Tony says, shaking his head. “No, it’s—it’s not good, but we’re dealing with it. I’ve got some treatments on the way and they’re gonna help. You being who you are helps. It’ll be okay.”

 Tears prick at Peter’s eyes, and everything still feels like it’s too big, burning, too much pressure.

 “Tell me if you need to throw up,” Tony says, rubbing Peter’s arm. 

 “Did I throw up?” Peter asks. He watches as another doctor rushes into the room behind Tony. 

 “Yeah, when you first got here,” Tony says. Peter doesn’t remember, and he sighs, wishing this was all over, wishing it wasn’t happening at all. “Just tell me if you have to, okay?” Tony asks, and Peter nods. “I’m not going anywhere. I called May. She’s coming.”

 “Okay,” Peter whispers, and his voice breaks again, horribly, a tear tracking down his cheek. 

 Tony quickly wipes it away, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “You’re gonna be fine, webs, I promise. I won’t have it any other way and I’m the savior of the universe so I get what I want.”

 Peter blows out a breath. “Good. Be stubborn about this.”

 “Oh, I’m gonna,” Tony says. Peter closes his eyes again and tries to keep his balance, even though he’s not fucking moving. “Try to sleep, okay? You’ve got a ton of people here working for you and I don’t wanna try to concoct the strong stuff to knock you out.”

 “You’re gonna flush it out?” Peter whispers. “The poison?”

 “Yes,” Tony says, gripping Peter’s wrist, fingers seemingly trying to track his pulse. “I promise.”

 ~

 Peter does sleep. He thinks. He isn’t really sure, except for the dreams, in which the Goblin traces across the sky and spews out poison gas from his mouth. Peter remembers the news reports. Norman had a son. Peter can’t remember his name, but after all that, he doesn’t like the idea of him losing his father, too. Norman is insane, and an asshole, but his son doesn’t deserve for him to die. Especially by his own hand. Peter doesn’t like the idea of him living with that.

 When he wakes up everything is a lot calmer, and darker, except for the one light beside his bed. He still feels out of it, but in a different way, and his mouth still tastes like blood. Metal.

 “Baby,” May whispers, suddenly sitting on the side of the bed.

 “May,” he says, still so tired. She’s fuzzy but it looks like there’s a halo behind her head. Maybe a light from the hallway. He sees Tony is sleeping in the chair by the bed, breathing through his mouth.

 “You’re okay, sweetheart,” May says. 

 Peter glances up and sees that he’s hooked up to about a hundred different things. He’s got a nasal cannula in and it’s definitely helping with the not breathing shit. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize,” he says, softly. He’s so annoyed at himself. There was gas everywhere, at the power plant. Norman was obviously doing something. But Peter was so distracted. “I should have—”

 “We should have realized something was wrong,” May says. “You were a little off, and MJ said something to me—”

 “He did it like this on purpose,” Peter says, holding onto her hand. “Osborn. So we wouldn’t know...right away.”

 May sets her jaw and then she shakes her head, leaning down and kissing him on the cheek twice in a row. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart. We’re here.”

 Peter nods, trying not to think about all of it. Trying not to wallow in his own stupidity and guilt.

 ~

 When he wakes up again it’s brighter, and Tony is standing over him, checking on his chart. 

 “Are they doubling the poison?” Peter asks. “Finally a way to get rid of the Spider-Man?”

 “The Spider-Man,” Tony says. “The Iron Man. The Captain America.”

 “Mine works, yours don’t,” Peter says. He glances over at the other chair and sees that May isn’t here right now.

 “She’s downstairs making sure everyone properly puts your lunch together,” Tony says, reading his mind. He hangs the chart back up and sits on Peter’s bed, gently. “How you doing?”

 “Okay,” Peter says. He still doesn’t feel...amazing, but it’s not as bad as it was before. “How long have I been asleep?”

 “Uh, going on eleven hours,” Tony says, gritting his teeth. “Which is why May is so insistent on the—lunch. Gonna be a big one, she almost wanted to start feeding you through a tube.”

 Peter blows out a breath and sinks down a little further into his pillows.

 “We’re gonna have to do a couple different treatments over the next few months for the mercury,” Tony says. “It wasn’t death-level but it was close, with all the other shit he mixed in there, and it’s not good to have it in your body. With your heightened—everything, and your healing, your system was trying to attack it but, well—what he made was strong, and it was spewing out everywhere at that plant. It’s a good thing you caught it when you did, because we were able to contact everybody who went to the scene that night before they shut everything down. You saved a lot of lives, Pete. Now they’re all gonna get treated, and it would have hit them harder than it hit you because they’re not—spider men. You were just more exposed.”

 Peter stares at him. “What about Norman?”

 Tony’s face goes stern. “Why do you care about that asshole? He did this to you.”

 “He’s got...a kid, Tony,” Peter says. “My age, I think. I’m sure, as disappointed as his kid is that his dad is a super villain, he still...doesn’t want him dead.”

 Tony looks down at his hands. “He’s still alive,” he says. “I sent some of my best guys to the prison to treat him. Because I knew you’d want me to. I didn’t do it because I wanted to or because I want him to live, I did it because I knew it’s what you would have wanted.”

 Peter feels warmer, under all that, and he reaches out and grabs Tony’s hand, the one that isn’t iron. “Thank you,” he says.

 “Uh huh,” Tony says, but he squeezes Peter’s hand. “He deserves to rot for doing this to you, Pete. You’re gonna be dealing with this shit for six months or so. Minimum.”

 “I’ll beat it before then,” Peter says, smiling at him, trying to ignore how like shit he feels.

 Tony meets his eyes. “You’re too good. You need to stop being too good.”

 Peter shrugs and keeps smiling. He doesn’t think he’s good enough, at anything, ever. But he knows that’s not the right thing to say to Tony right now. 

 Tony scoffs and squeezes his hand again. “Uh, are you okay for visitors? Because Morgan was having a complete heart attack.”

 “Always ready for a Morgan visit,” Peter says. “And can you, uh—call Ned and MJ?”

 “Yeah, they’re on their way already,” Tony says. “I gotta keep your girl from chastising you too hard.”

 “No way to avoid that,” Peter says.

 “Yeah,” Tony says, patting Peter’s hand. He clears his throat and doesn’t let go quite yet. “I’m proud of you. I know I said it before when it all first happened, and I wish I had been there to back you up—I wish anybody had been, but I just—wanted to say it again. Because you deserve to hear it, especially when you’re—dealing with something like this.” He looks at him and smiles fondly, a little sadly. “I’m proud of you.”

 It’s one of Peter’s favorite things to hear, especially from Tony and May. He knows getting through this is gonna be hard, but he’s got the kind of support system that people literally wait lifetimes for. He’s beyond lucky. 

 He holds onto Tony’s hand. “I’m proud of you too.”

[moonamite]

The Rebels: Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Diamond asked, peering over Meta Knight’s shoulder, staring intently at the device in his talons. “I’m... sending a signal.” He answered. Alien life was a rather taboo subject in this world, and speaking of it was generally frowned upon. He didn’t know how the others would take the news that he had allies from another planet- Or if they’d even believe him. He wondered what Io would think of Dedede and their... Relationship for a brief moment, before brushing the thought away. “To who? Who can we trust?” She continued, irritated by his cryptic answer. “Eclipse, once they realize we’ve escaped, word’s gonna spread like wildfire. Nobody will want to help us, even if they agree with our fight- Because they know what will happen to them if they’re caught helping enemies of the Queen.” She said, a grim look on her face. Meta Knight sighed. She won’t trust me unless I tell her everything. “Do you remember the rumors of me fleeing to another planet?” He asked, worried if she’d believe him or not. “Yes,” She said impatiently. “What does that have anything to do with this?” He tensed up. “Well... They were true. Not only that, but the planet was inhabited.” Scarlet’s eyes widened, shining with curiosity. “Really?” She said, awestruck. “What are they like? Are they friendly? Do they have super-cool sciency things? Maybe even MAGIC?” Scarlet looked so eager to learn more, and thank the stars Diamond stepped in, or else Scarlet probably wouldn’t have stopped asking questions for a million years. “Scarlet,” Diamond said gently, putting a wing over her shoulder. She gazed at Scarlet with an adoring expression. “I know you’ve always dreamed of seeing otherworldly life, but right now, we need to focus.” She pressed her head to Scarlets’. “We’re going to save our people.” She said firmly. Meta Knight flinched. He wanted to get out of here with Kirby and go back home. But I can’t just leave. Not now. Not after what i’ve witnessed- Seeing what has become of my people. His face twisted in conflict. I can’t abandon Io again. I can’t leave her here. Or Grandeur. Or Scarlet, or Diamond, or Cashew... And all the others. They had to do something. They had to fix everything. Meta Knight stood up. I know what we have to do. “That’s right.” He said, making Grandeur look up. “Grandeur, we’re going to try your plan.” Grandeur blinked in surprise. “Wait-” She said, putting up a talon. “Are you SURE? Because that’s a LOT easier said than done.” She said. Meta Knight nodded. “We’re going to go have a little ‘chat’ with the queen.” He explained to the others. Diamond paused. Then looked as if she remembered something. “That’s it!” She exclaimed, leaping to her feet. “Eclipse, you know where the Queen is! You can get us there! But... How will we get anywhere? Your paint’s gone, and we’re wanted criminals now, so...” She trailed off, her shoulders slumping. Meta Knight considered this. “Well, if we can’t sneak in, we’ll simply just have to use brute force.” He said, casting a sideways glance at Grandeur. “That spear. Where’d you get it?” He asked, flicking a claw in her direction. Grandeur shrugged. “All kinds of valuable things can be found in the sewers. Especially in these parts. These rich smoke-snorters just toss whatever down here- Things that would be hard for a commoner to get their claws on.” She explained, a grin forming on her face. “So... Sewage weapon time? Awesome. Should be some sharp stabby things around here somewhere.” She muttered, eyes searching their surroundings. “Totally sane and sanitary.” She added. “Not Barbaric at all.”  Cashew sighed. “What’s wrong? Hungry?” Grandeur half-joked as she dug through the sewage. She’d dug up several sharp and deadly looking objects (Meta Knight couldn’t tell exactly what they were, since they were covered in sludge.) In a short amount of time. “No. It’s just- I don’t know how to use a weapon. I’ve never even hurt anyone before!” He cried. “Aw.” Grandeur said, an awkward smile forming on her face. “Well, you’re big and strong. Maybe you won’t have to actually kill anyone.” She suggested. Cashew blinked in confusion. “What?” He said. Grandeur rolled her eyes. “What i’m trying to say is; You can knock them out. One blow to the head from you and they’d be out cold. That make any sense, Mud-brain?” She said bluntly. “Ohhhhhhh.” Cashew said. Meta Knight tuned out of their conversation from that point on. He crouched beside the growing pile of potential weapons, tossing the ones that wouldn’t work to the side. It was hideously unsanitary, but if they could pull this ridiculous plan off, it’d all be worth it.  Suddenly, he heard a loud ‘SPLASH!’ from the secret tunnel entrance. He whipped his head to see the commotion, startled to full alert. The Guards! They’ve come to get us! He stood, muscles braced and ready to fight for his life- But the figure who emerged from the hole was definitely not a guard. They shook out their wings, giving Meta Knight a clear look. Standing there was the large form of a very annoyed Lady Neptune. And in her arms was another, more noticeable, small, bright pink- “Kirby!”

[fuzziemutt]

What’s a Family to the One Free Man ?

Summary: With some time to rest, Gordon's mind starts to wander. And he realizes that the scene before him is lacking some people... Tw: Dissociation, Panic attacks (please actually make sure the person having a panic attack is okay with being touched prior to doing so btw), This is hurt without true comfort (Gordon has bad coping mechanisms) Notes: This is based on my own post talking about how if Gordon does have a canon niece/nephew then he has a sibling as well and they've been MIA since the Black Mesa incident... (I can’t place this on a timeline exactly, it’s probs breaking canon hl lore timeline but I don’t care, it’s after stasis tho), no ships everything is platonic

Also: Yes I am using John, his wife and his kid Henry in a serious sense here because I didn’t want to create a whole new character for this angst,,, (and again typing this in one go, no edits, lets goooooo) (also also: Gordon is selectively mute based on my experiences) 

----

They had just gotten back from a quick scavenging mission that brought back a couple pieces of old clothes, tech scraps, and health kits along with a couple more bruises and scratches. It wasn’t anything Gordon couldn’t handle at this point; He was just glad to be able to sit down finally especially as his knees were starting to act up again. 

As he slumped himself into a nearby chair, he watched the rag tag team consisting of Eli, Alyx, Issac, Judith and Barney theatrically retell about the “adventure” they just had mere moments ago. Eli, Izzy and Judith had stayed behind while him and the others practically ran around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off if the teasing smile on Eli’s face had anything to say about what they saw from the home base. It almost felt quite homey here honestly with the way they joked as if they were a true family and not a group of people constantly fighting for their lives. 

Gordon wasn’t sure what it was exactly that caused it, it honestly could have just been from being tired, but as he watched Alyx and Barney bicker about who dropped the important gizmo she wanted, he slowly felt his consciousness take a step back from the action in front of him. He wanted to take part in the jokes a bit but he couldn’t help how clouded his head seemed to feel watching the two play fight. Something about the scene in front of him was trying to catch on something in the deep recess of his brain. 

He watched through sudden fog, body practically one with the chair underneath him as something finally caught. He was suddenly bombarded with memories and reminders of three specific people that he should have thought about already that he even felt a stab of guilt for forgetting about them for so long.

John, Iliza and Henry Freeman.

Oh god’s resounded in his head as it filled with memories of bickering and play fighting with his older brother not too long ago. And that was the kicker wasn’t it ? It honestly wasn’t too long ago for him. Just a couple weeks ago he was saying bye to his brother on the phone with the sounds of a small toddler babbling his own goodbyes too. 

John had been picking on him for not having visited since his son’s 2nd birthday and for spending too much time working on “boring” “nerd” stuff. Gordon had even actually mentally agreed, a rare moment for him truly, as he decided to talk to his boss about getting some vacation time after the big test the next day to surprise his brother with a visit. He had been practically dancing at the idea of seeing John and his family again after being away for god knows how long.

That was just a couple weeks ago.. he promised to talk to him tomorrow just before he hung up.. That was just 20 years ago now...

20 years.. since he last spoke to his brother.. John and Ili would be in their 50s.. Little Henry in his 20s...

That was if they even survived. 

His breath cut short and his throat squeezed. 

If they survived.

IF. 

Distantly he felt his increasingly strangled pants, the feeling of liquid slide down his cheeks, but he was too far from his head to realize what was happening. He just watched from the ceiling, detached and afraid as his body trembled and reacted to this recovered information. 

How could he have forgotten John, Ili and their kid ? The very kid he made sure to get a day off to visit as soon as possible after the kid was born and at his new home. The very kid John would jokingly tell not to end up as nerdy as his uncle “Gordie”. The very kid who loved playing with his ponytail not a rat tail and was even growing his hair out for due to it. The very kid he swore to protect and always be there for even if the world ended. 

His brother who he’d spend long nights talking nonsense to no matter how young or old or even far away they were. The brother who accepted him when their parents didn’t. The one who used his actual name for the first time without hesitation. The brother that despite his tough guy act and motorcycles, helped him feel safe even in public.

His sister-in-law who would always smile and clap excitedly whenever he got to visit. The sister who would go with him to stores, if John was busy, so he wouldn’t feel so scared and all alone. The sister who was patient with him and how he still sometimes struggled to speak to her even after so much time being part of his family. The sister who created such lovely paintings in her spare time.

And they were gone. 

He didn’t have a clue where they could even possibly be now. If they were alive, could they have come to City 17 ? Were there other cities nearby they could be in ? Could they have managed to escape all those years ago ? So much have changed in the span of 20 years, would they even be the same ? Would John resent him for having disappeared so long ago even if he didn’t choose to ? Would Ili look upon him in disappointment for abandoning them ? Would Henry not even care to recognize his forgotten uncle that cared about him too long ago ?

He didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye...

His head raced with so many unanswered questions, guilt and hopelessness. His family, even if it wasn’t arguably much, was gone and there was nothing he could have done about it. The choices were made for him. 

He had no control.

At some point, he began to notice the feelings of hands on him, someone was mumbling words he couldn’t decipher at all. Suddenly his hands were pressed against another’s chest he was guessing as his senses began to slowly sludge their way back into focus. He tried copying the gentle rising and falling he could acknowledge; his struggling breath slowly following suit as best it could. 

It took what felt like minutes to possibly hours until the feeling of detachment began to subside, the nonsensical words now beginning to register as what they were meant to be. It was mostly someone counting and saying some encouraging phrases. Something must have changed on his face, however, as the voice was now asking him to list what he could see, hear, feel and smell. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to force himself to speak in such a state, he also hasn’t been able to feel safe enough to do so since that call with John anyways, and with his shaking hands still firmly to the other’s chest, he couldn’t even attempt to sign what was asked of him. So he just began mentally listing as things came to an off-tilted focus. 

He can see his hands, Barney’s hands, Barney’s face, his hetero-chromatic eyes, the scar on his left cheek.

He can hear his words encouraging him, the gentle humming of electronics, the fans of the ac system kicking on, the soft worried murmurs amongst the people behind Barney.

He can feel Barney’s hands around his, the gentle rising and falling of Barney’s chest, the sticky feeling of tears on his own face. 

He could smell the distant stench of rot, the smell of something that was burnt long ago. 

His name was Gordon Freeman, he was 27 years old and he was safe and what was happening was real. Everything was here. Everything was now.

When it seemed Barney was satisfied enough with Gordon’s awareness, he slowly let go of Gordon’s hands and placed them back on his lap. 

“Hey... you with us, bud ?” Barney whispered just barely enough to be heard which Gordon was thankful for as he didn’t think he could take any sudden noises especially with the now present dull thudding behind his eyes. 

All he could do was to slightly nod, forcing his tense muscles to relax before he snapped something. It was then, now that he was forced to be present, that he realized that everyone was in a loose circle around his chair, all with concerned faces. The others weren’t as close as Barney, seemingly to give some semblance of space, but he couldn’t help but feel they were actively holding themselves back from pouncing on him any second. Possibly to even question him as to why he suddenly decided a cry session and panic attack were the best courses of action at the time. 

It was too much, seeing them stare into him almost so hungrily, so filled with pity. He knew they meant well, but he couldn’t do this right now. Not when they were still fighting the revolution. Not when they still needed him to be strong. Not when he was the legendary, resistance “badass” Gordon Freeman who single-handedly killed the Nihilanth arguably a couple weeks 20 years ago.

He stood up, not making any eye contact and shakily signed what he hoped was an apology and him saying how he was going to check on the antlions, but he wasn’t so sure what he was saying or getting across and honestly he didn’t quite much care. Before anyone could object, he quickly weaseled his way between a gap in the circle and sped walked like there was no tomorrow with no further comment. 

When he was alone finally he could go about repressing it all again, his brother, the time gap, his panic and guilt, it all needed to go and needed to go now. He wasn’t going to let those possible deaths hold him back especially with all the blood already staining his hands. It didn’t matter. They needed strong, capable leader Gordon Freeman whether he liked it or not.

What’s a family to the One Free Man anyways ?

[orderofhunter]

Part 3- And it’s My Whole Heart Deemed and Delivered a Crime-Saturday, November 15, 2020

Para: And it’s My Whole Heart Deemed and Delivered a Crime-Part 3

Rating: PG.

Pairing: Seblaine.

Hunter: @orderofhunter

Blaine: @andersoncharm

Sebastian: @smythesm

When: Saturday, November 15, 2020- Early Morning.

Location: Sebastian’s Apartment- Boston, MA

Notes: Hunter and Tony bring Blaine home to Sebastian. -Features appearances by Antoinette ‘Tony’ Thompson (Hunter’s girlfriend and one of Blaine’s best friends) and Will Anderson (Blaine’s father and the headmaster of LeFay).

Warnings:  This rp includes; Mentions of death. Mentions of Parental Death (Blaine’s Mom), Mentions of injury, Mentions of toxic past relationships. Mentions of brief past Klaine.

Extra Warnings: (This hasn’t been brought up for a bit but, this RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Hunter’s POV:

Hunter did his best to keep himself focused on the weight of his friend situated between him and Tony. He had been instructed by Will Anderson to bring Blaine straight to Sebastian’s house. Seb was to keep Blaine until Will showed up with further instructions. Hunter wasn’t sure when that would be, but when Will Anderson gave you orders it was best just to follow them, especially after the events of the last few days. He had no doubt the man was teetering on the edge of relief and rage right now. Hunter had put a very drained Blaine into his car and made the drive. Blaine could hardly sit up on his own and Hunter himself was so exhausted after forty eight hours awake and it had taken everything in him  not to pull over and let his heavy eyelids slip close just for a few minutes. 

The only thing that kept him going was the thought of how much Sebastian needed to see that Blaine had made it, Tony had reported that he’d hardly left the couch and that Freya was working overtime trying to keep him sane and comfortable while he waited. And it helped keep him going knowing that as soon as Blaine was safely home, Hunter would get to pull his girl into his arms and maybe let his guard down for a few seconds. He hadn’t gotten the chance yet, but it would be worth it once he could. She’d been there waiting with wide alert eyes when he’d pulled up and had rushed to help him with Blaine. The dark haired Witch was practically her brother and he couldn’t blame her for the worry that cut through her pretty face.

The two of them gently but firmly pulled Blaine up the flights of stairs to Seb’s house, the shorter man's head lulled from side to side and Hunter wished he could have brought a Witch to help them use magic for this part. It would have been so much more comfortable for Blaine who had been put through hell the last two days. His eyes slipped down to the rings of raw red skin around Blaine’s wrists, the ones from the magical cuffs they’d used to keep him still and controlled and he winced knowing that while the blisters would fade the scars never would fully and Blaine would have to live with them, as well as the mental ones for the rest of his life. At least he got to come home. At least he got to keep his person. It had come at a cost, but at least he was home now.

He thought back to how hard Blaine had fought for Sebastian. How cut open and freely Blaine had pleaded for his life with him. How hard he tried to convince the Council and Order that they were really Fated and that he truly never set out to break rules. He remembered Will’s face as his son begged, the man must’ve thought he looked passive but anyone paying attention would  have clearly been able to see the heartbreak written across his face over having to put the only piece left of his own Fate though this bullshit. In the end, right when all hope was lost and Hunter truly thought he was going to have to watch his friend, his girlfriend’s chosen brother, and his best friend’s soulmate burn or be sent someplace dark and locked away forever- it had come down to a few little missing pieces in the puzzle that was Blaine and Bas that had saved them. One that Blaine had figured out- A pretty little High Priestess and one that Will, who apparently had been helping Blaine and Bas secretly all along at great risk to himself, had cleverly thought of- a very very young Oracle. They’d both given a bit of information about Sebastian being chosen by Aphrodite for Blaine and that was extremely confusing and Hunter still wasn’t sure he understood it and he’d have to wait until Blaine was steady and alert to ask more about it. 

Hunter let Tony take the brunt of Blaine’s weight for a moment and dug out his key that Bas had given him and slipped it into the lock. He hadn’t messaged his friend, didn’t want him to panic or jump up and pace until they got home, so Sebastian looked slow and sleepy with puffy red eyes and his own little menagerie of animals piled on top of him. It took his friend a few moments to realize that Blaine was positioned between the two of them but once he did he was up and rushing over to them, worry and relief and a different type of exhaustion in his eyes. 

“Questions later, we need to get him into bed quickly.” With Tony’s help and Sebastian by their side and a suddenly overly excited Ras tangling his body up in their legs (Blaine wasn’t able to use his magic to calm him right now and it showed.) they finally managed to get the shorter man into the bed. Tony pulled his shoes off and tucked the covers around him like a mother would to a child. She looked like she wanted to sit next to him, but she looked up at Bas and took hold of his hand so that she could help guide him to Blaine, she nudged him to sit with him and then stood back against the wall, looking like the badass rogue hiding out in the shadows of a video game. Hunter scratched the back of his neck a bit sheepishly, not knowing where to start.

“Well, he’s uh, home. And good news, he gets to stay.” He forced a big grin and patted Sebastian on  the back and hoped he wouldn’t soak up too much guilt over everything he’d find out. “He can’t really communicate right now, we’re not sure how long he'll be like this, but he knows he got to come home and I think he can hear what’s happening. They’ve sort of been draining him slowly, those cuffs do it and, well, they made him wear them for over forty eight hours so he’s very weak and his magic is a little off right now. But, you can touch him, it might make him feel better.” He nodded in encouragement, glad to give some good news. “And you get to meet the parent soon, exciting, right?” He gave an uncomfortable laugh.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s mind felt like sludge. Events of the last two days were buried deep under the mud of his brain and no matter how much he dug he couldn’t get to the bottom, it just kept filling up with more wet mud. All he could think about was that he was going home. He could hear what he thought was  Hunter and Tony talking, could feel the comfort of having their arms around him. Could feel the press of Tony’s kiss to his cheek and could feel her positive energy wrapping around him like a hug. But it seemed no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t focus on the details of his trial… he’d gone to trial, right? They went dark and choppy. He could see flashes of his dad's face, and the glares of High Council and High Order members surrounding him. Could recall the pain of Witch Steel cutting into his wrist and when he moved his hands what little he could he could swear the cuffs were still there cutting into him. No, his wrists were red, the cuffs weren’t red… His back hurt from standing up so straight for so long and his throat felt raw from yelling. Why had he been yelling? He hated that.

All at once too much feeling cascaded around his body as they started up a set of stairs, and though each step felt like hot coals against his flesh he tried his hardest to help Hunter and Tony get him up the steps. He knew before seeing him that Seb was there, he could just feel him, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his boy up in his arms and never let him go. He had this funny feeling that he’d get to again, but this little nagging in the back of his mind told him there was a cost and for the life of him he couldn’t remember what it was. 

He tried to yell at them to stop, to let Seb hold him and help him to the bedroom  but they kept him away from him and wouldn’t even let him stop to pet Ras or say hello to Frey. It felt like heaven when he got to lie down, the bed familiar and comforting and very much Seb’s, but his frustrations grew as his arms were so heavy he couldn’t even move enough to reach out for Seb’s hand. He opened his mouth to try to talk to him, to tell him that he loved him. To tell him that he knew he’d get to come home, he’d give anything to just be able to say his name- but the movement of his lips was too exhausting and all he could do was look at Sebastian- and then Seb reached out and took hold of his hand then Blaine wasn’t able to look anymore. In his relief his eyes had closed and he was trying to smile, maybe he was smiling and all he could was listen, content in the weight of Sebastian’s hand.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian had spent the past two days in a...well, a daze. He had scraped himself off the floor only to make it to the couch. He turned on the tv so that the place wasn’t so cold and quiet but he didn’t pay much attention to what was on. His mind was filled with scary scenarios and all he wanted to do was stare at the clock on his phone. Freya and Ras piled onto the couch with him and he felt the weight of Blaine’s crystal under his shirt and it made him feel a little better for a short moment. There were a few small moments over the 48 hours where he tried to take care of himself because he knew the other man would want him to. He managed to eat a little and take a quick shower but mostly all he wanted to do was take all of the potions Blaine had left and spend his time in a sleepy haze.

So, that’s what he did. Spent his time cooped up in the living room under the weight of his pup and B’s familiar, soundly sleeping as well as an anxious human could with the help of a draught. Seb had just woken up from his last potion induced slumber when the door opened. It was a welcome, if not worrisome sight, Hunter and Tony tried their best to keep Blaine upright in between them. Sebastian and Enjolras  jumped up off the couch and rushed to the familiar faces. He wanted to say so many things, ask so many questions but Hunter had shot all of that down immediately. Sebastian stayed out of the way as much as he could as he followed them into the bedroom. He was thankful for Tony’s help and her soft touch that encouraged him to sit on the edge of the bed with his boyfriend. 

Sebastian nodded as Hunter spoke and even smiled a little bit. He had Blaine back, how could he not breathe a small sigh of relief? 

Sebastian held on to Blaine’s hand and looked over his face as Hunter continued to speak. The other man really did look exhausted and pale. “I’m glad he’s back. Thank you.” He reached forward and laid the back of his fingers against his clammy forehead. Sebastian wondered if this was going to be as bad as the last time his magic was drained.  “Meet the parent?” Sebastian’s hand fell from Blaine’s face.

Hunter’s POV:

Hunter watched the two of them for a moment before speaking. He watched how Blaine seemed to be smiling even though he wasn’t with it whatsoever, he watched how delicately Sebastian touched the dark haired man's face and the little smile Bas gave made Hunter smile too. He looked back at Tony and gave her a smile too, knowing she was feeling just as relieved and happy. He wasn’t sure if happy was the word, but there was a definite returned feeling of lightness that had been missing for some time now. He cleared his throat at Sebastian’s question and nodded, his voice a sigh when he spoke. It seemed the calmness would be short lived for the time being.

“Yes. his father will be here soon. He uh, well, he’s got to take Blaine back to LeFay for a few final things... See, Blaine may have gotten to come home but it wasn’t without a price.” He shifted his weight, unsure if he should just tell Sebastian everything or hold off until he was more prepared, a reassuring hand on his shoulder from Tony told him that he really just needed to get it all out. Bas could ask questions a bit later. 

“Blaine well, gets to stay with you. And that’s like, great news, right?” He licked his lips and shifted his eyes to where Blaine was lying. The other man's smile had faded and his brow was creased like his head hurt and Hunter wondered what magical draining felt like. Of course they couldn’t take all of Blaine’s magic away, it was a part of him just as much as his bones were, but they could drain a fair bit of it and hold it from him. He’d been told through his training that the taking and the giving back was incredibly painful. He knew Blaine had been drained a bit once, but he’d never been forced to wear the cuffs. He didn’t envy him at all right now. “It turns out, and don’t ask me to explain this all the way because I really can't- it’s never happened to my knowledge, but you were apparently chosen for Blaine by a love goddess. You must have done something to impress her and to think you deserved a Witch so she went back and made sure your names were written together. That’s why you’re Fated, well, there’s talk that you might have been anyway, she just sort of made sure it happened and as we know when Gods meddle in human and not so human affairs shit tends to hit the fan..” He pushed his hands into his pockets and leaned against the wall to take some weight off of his tired feet.

“Blaine sort of figured it out. His magic started draining the moment I put the cuffs on,” His eyes shifted to the blisters on Blaine’s wrists and he cringed a little,  “And of course that keeps him from thinking his clearest, but eventually he had the clarity to call upon those Priestess, the ones from Friday’s that were fawning over you, something about your story and how they treated you felt a little off to him and he thought maybe they’d know something, he didn’t know why he never asked them before but I think it as because he wanted to pretend everything was okay, you know, to keep you safe. Anyway, they confirmed it, and this Will, his dad, called on an Oracle, which was kind of an act of defiance on his part because he’s supposed to stay out of it and well, the Oracle confirmed it. Basically they cant touch either one of you now, you’re Goddess protected and Aphrodite doesn’t fuck around. They can’t do a damn thing to you and you both get to live out the rest of your lives together. Isn’t that great?” 

He grinned, knowing he hadn’t shared the price yet, but how did you tell your best friend that his boyfriend was exiled from his own race? That he has to give up everything. All Blaine would get to keep from his world was his magic, and that's only because they can’t take it away without killing him. They even forbade him from seeing his dad anymore. Hunter wondered if Blaine would follow that rule or if it’d get broken, it wasn’t like Blaine was good at following them anyway.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian stayed close to Blaine on the bed but looked from Hunter to Tony and back again. They both looked exhausted. He wasn’t sure if his apartment was in the best shape for Blaine’s dad to come over, and he still had a thousand questions he didn’t know how to voice. Should he offer them something to eat? Start cleaning? Stay on the bed with B? All Sebastian hoped for when Blaine came back was for safety and peace and it seemed that the latter was not going to happen anytime soon. 

“Price? What price?” 

He squeezed Blaine’s hand and hoped he was fast asleep. Before Hunter answered his question he launched into the details of the past two days. Seb tried his hardest to follow along but there was so much to take in. 

The flower shop? Aphrodite? Sebastian’s mouth dropped open and he was sure he looked like a fucking idiot. Goddess protected? What the hell did that mean?

 “Excuse me? What do you mean? How are you just going to say all of that and follow it up with ,’oh, don’t ask me to explain!’ Haven’t you been training in this shit like, your entire life?” 

He shook his head in frustration but did feel a little relieved that it was confirmed again that he and Blaine got to continue being together. 

“Again, what’s the catch? How long will his wrists be blistered? Will he recover from all of this? Do I have to work part time at Friday’s? What?”

Hunter’s POV:

Hunter opened his mouth to protest, Sebastian’s onslaught of questions and semi accusations were warranted but it still took him a little off guard. Okay, fair, he should know, Bas was right. But in his defense this was brand new fucking territory. He held up his hands out in front of him as if to ward his best friend off and calm him down.

“Christ Bas, relax.” He shook his head and ran his hand over his face to clear away his exhaustion and frustrations. Truth be told he was annoyed that this whole Goddess thing had blindsided him. Not only him, but Blaine and Will and the whole Council and Order as well. “I wish he weren’t so out of it, he could calm your ass down for a bit.” He joked, but truly he was only half joking. “What I’m trying to say is that this shit has never happened before. The Council and Order have never seen it, and if they have they’re keeping it hushed so that that word doesn’t get out and Witches all over don’t start claiming they have human Fates just to say so. Not everyone is lucky enough to get an Oracle to speak for them. It’s new and fucked up, but it is what it is and maybe Blaine can explain it better to you in a few weeks when he can function properly again, yeah?” He crossed his arms, trying to figure out how best to proceed.

“His wrists are like that from the Witch Steele, the cuffs I put on him? Yeah, they’re not meant to be comfortable and only Witches that are brought in for serious trials ever have the displeasure of wearing them. Usually the Witch in question is guilty and dealt with, but Blaine, well, he wasn’t guilty. I know they look bad and I know Blaine doesn’t deserve them, but you should have seen him up there talking about you. He loves you so damn much, some of them were even a little swayed by his words, but words are words to Witches and Hunters at the end of the day and it took way more than that. But yeah, he’s always going to have the scars. The blisters will heal, but he’ll be able to see and feel them forever. Don’t worry though, he’ll glamour them so no one will notice but him.” He nodded and moved a little closer to Sebastian.

“He’ll recover, you just have to give him time. Maybe when Will gets here he can help him snap out of it a little. I don’t even know if he remembers everything right now. But, he’s home and he’ll get to sleep in your bed next to you tonight and you can breathe, okay?” He took a deep breath and decided to jump into the freezing lake that was the catch. “He’s home with you forever now, but he can never go back to the world he knew.” He paused, looking closely at Bas hoping he understood when he meant. “They believe him, and they accept that you’re his Fate and they’ll never come after you, I mean if the word gets out that he came out of a trial that has had Witches put to death in the past some rogue Witches might try and punish him, but you leave that chaos to the Order. What I’m saying is that you two are free to live your lives together, Blaine just has to do it without his people. He can't keep them and keep you at the same time.” He bit his lip, worried he was laying way too much on his best friend, but he wasn’t sure how else to do it. “He uh, he’s also not allowed to raise children with you either because that would mean a human outside of the Order would be raised knowing about Witches and unless you want to keep Blaine’s magic a secret from your kids you’d have to tell them. But hey, you never wanted children anyway so that part shouldn’t be a big deal.” He shrugged like it wasn’t but Sebastian’s face kind of said differently.

“Look, it’s going to be okay. Blaine has accepted it, so fucking gracefully might I add, and sure, he’s not supposed to see his friends or his dad anymore, but I know we can find a way around it. He just wants to be with you and you shouldn’t worry too much about this. He’s going to be okay. Maybe a little sad for a bit, but he’s always a little sad, right?” God damn he was bad at this when it was personal.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian pointed at Hunter, “Do not tell me to relax. I appreciate everything you’ve done but don't do that. This is obviously new for all of us.” He stood up and adjusted the covers around his boyfriend and listened as Hunter spoke. Weren’t oracles in old Greek myths? The world that Blaine was being ripped out of was still a mystery to him. He’d never learn all of it and the decision the trial had settled on confirmed that fact. Sebastian sat on the bed again and set his hand on Blaine’s thigh, he wanted it to comfort him but was unsure if he could even feel it at the moment. 

He felt really sad from the onslaught of information. Sad for B, sad for himself, sad for David and Nick, even his father. This wasn’t going to be an easy transition and he hoped he was worth all of this. Now they might not ever be able to have a kid? Sure, he’d always said he didn’t want to but what if he changed his mind? Sebastian knew for a fact that Blaine loved kids and would be a great father. All of this was a mess.

“This really sucks. How is any of this fair? They proved that we’re soulmates. That should be enough. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes at Hunter and pinched the bridge of his nose. Tony muttered something about how he wasn’t very good at this part and gave him a weak punch in the bicep. 

“Of course he was graceful. I hope this was all worth it in the end for him.”  He thought for a moment. “Is it even safe to find a way around this shit?”

Hunter’s POV:

Hunter held his hands up in surrender trying to show his friend that he hadn't meant it. He understood Sebastian’s frustrations and he couldn’t blame him for being snappy. He tossed Tony a glare that held no true annoyance and shook his head again, trying to clear the blurry edges of sleepiness that was creeping into his vision. He needed to stay  awake and alert just a little bit longer. He wondered if Blaine had any potions for alertness lying around.

“Sorry, we’re all really fucking tired, I know. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s really not fair, but he did break rules, I know he couldn’t help it, that's how the Fates work, but he still broke them. They fed us some bullshit about how he should have come to them with the information and maybe they could have helped him, but even Will thought that was a bit bogus, all it would have done was expedite everything and it may not have gone in your favor. No, they’re really just trying to cover their asses. They have to punish him somehow or else rogue Witches and Hunters will never take them seriously again. That’s all I can offer right now, I don’t like it any more than you. It feels like a fluke thing, but again, when the Gods get involved it never goes well, history and “myth” show us that. I mean, you’ve heard about what Apollo did to Patroclus and in turn what it did to Achilles- don’t look at me like that, we get tested on this stuff.” He shrugged again and rolled his eyes. 

He was about to tell Sebastian that yes, it was worth it when the air in the room shifted and suddenly Will Anderson was taking up the empty space off to his right, closest to Blaine. His rat familiar close on his heels. The apartment had been guarded and protected so heavily that Hunter was surprised he’d managed to break through, but it was Will and he was powerful and Blaine was weak right now so maybe he shouldn’t have been so surprised. Will was not a tall man, only a few inches taller than Blaine, but he was so imposing and powerful looking whenever he entered a room. Something about him screamed not to fuck with him, he’d been told by older members of the Order that the salt and pepper man was once kind and jovial but after his wife had died saving Tony his whole demeanor had changed and he’d turned into this quiet and severe man.

“It’s probably not worth it, but I’m sure we can figure out a way for me to see my son once in a while.” Will’s eyes shone bright and blue and Hunter could feel Tony stiffen and stand up straight at his presence. He knew that Will respected her and didn’t resent her for what his wife had chosen to do, but she always held herself so tightly when he was around, so different than when she was laughing and snuggling in with Blaine. “Hunter, Antoinette.” Will nodded his head towards them before moving his gaze into the direction of Sebastian. “You must be Sebastian. I’m Will, Blaine’s father.” He reached out his hand and grasped Sebastian’s in his, his friend looked a bit awestruck. “I’m here to give you all the rundown. I’ll be back in two days time to get Blaine. He’ll be gone all of Monday, and I’ll see that he’s taken care of while he’s gone. I promise to bring him  safely back to you Monday night. You should know that he’s going to be very weak for a long time and he’s going to need you to help him around for a bit. He’s not going to feel like himself for at least a month,  but he’ll be able to talk to you and he’ll be able to walk and do most normal things, but there is a chance he’ll lose track of himself every so often so I wouldn’t advise discussing the more heavy things of this ordeal for a little while. If you’ve made Holiday plans, I’d leave Blaine out of them for the time being, he’s not going to be up to it.” The elder Witch cleared his throat and before Sebastian, Tony or Hunter could speak he carried on. 

“I’m sure you’ve got many questions but we don’t have much time for them tonight. I’ve prepared a few answers for the immediate future, the rest can be discussed at a later date. Blaine’s degree is real and can be used for any career it fits, LeFay is a real University after all. Though he had money and won’t really need to work, something tells me he’ll be insistent on making himself useful. His things from home- ingredients and notes and paperwork and his garden and so on that he had at LeFay had been transferred to a small cottage on the shores of Marblehead, just outside of Salem. I plan to take him there after our goodbyes on Monday. It’ll be a place for him to practice so he doesn’t have to clutter up your home. I’m sure you don’t want his old world colliding with this one. He’s kept it separate so he doesn't overexpose you and I think that’s an excellent idea to uphold.” The man paused as if collecting himself, his eyes never leaving Sebastian’s.

“I know this is all very harsh and we probably look like monster’s to you, but this is very much for the best. The two of you can live as you’ve always wanted and no one will harm you for it. You’ll both be kept safe and I’ve seen over the last two years of keeping you both out of trouble that you truly are soulmates. I’m only sorry I wasn’t allowed to be part of your journey. It wouldn’t have looked good if Blaine knew I was on his side, and yes, I’m always on his side. He is my son. And you, well, you’re his Soulmate. I’d welcome you to the family but there isn’t much time and there’s not much of a family anymore I’m afraid. All I ask of you is that you keep him safe, and love him just as much as he loves you. If you can do that then you’re golden in my book. You know, Blaine’s never taken that crystal off for anyone and if I hadn’t seen you two together and only knew your relationship off of that knowledge I wouldn’t need anymore information. That’s a big deal for him. Cherish it.” He paused. “I know I’m not supposed to be around, but I will be. My contact information is already in your phone and if you have any questions while Blaine is out of sorts, please, reach out to me. We’re supposed to sever ties by Monday night, but I assure you, I’ll find a way to help.” With that, Will reached out and gave Sebastian’s shoulder a firm squeeze, like a father welcoming a new son in law to the family. It was all very personal and so unlike Will Anderson that Hunter felt like he shouldn’t be here right now. Before he could excuse himself and Tony he turned to them.

“Now, I’m going to give Blaine this potion to help his mind catch up, he still needs to stay in bed, but he’ll be able to think a bit better. With that being said I expect that when I leave all of you will go to bed. I can take you and Tony home if you’d like, but you might feel better if you’re all close to each other for the night.” Hunter nodded his consent, the thought of magic travel or even driving his car made him want to throw himself off the balcony. Bas’ couch would do just fine. He watched as Will made his way over to Blaine and he hadn’t noticed before but Freya- Blaine’s own familiar, was curled up next to him, glaring daggers at everyone. Will kneeled down next to Blaine and pulled out a glass vial so tiny he could hardly see it in the man's hands. He watched as he gently cupped Blaine’s face and titled the contents into his son’s throat. Nothing big happened, Blaine didn’t stir or open his eyes, he didn’t change at all. Will pressed the palm of his hand to Blaine’s cheek and whispered a few words he didn’t catch before getting to his feet. 

“He’ll wake in about fifteen minutes, his mind is rooted very deep down right now, it’ll take a bit for it to catch up. In the meantime, I meant what I said. You all three need to get some sleep, if I have to I’ll spell the apartment and we don’t want that.” He turned to Sebastian one last time and reached out to press the tiny vial into his hand. “If he doesn’t wake up in fifteen minutes give him a drop of this. And if he still doesn’t wake up then I suggest you use that contact info in your phone.” He patted Sebastian’s shoulder once more and then stepped away. His voice fading as well as his body and his familiar. “Monday.”

Hunter cleared his throat after the silence settled over the room.

“And that, my guy, was the nicest I’ve ever seen Will Anderson. Wow, lucky you.” He laughed to take the tension out of the room and glanced at Blaine to see if he’d changed, he hadn't. He wondered what would happen if he didn’t. “I guess we should do what he said. Tony and I will take the couch, Ras can stay with us if that’s alright? Keep him out of your hair while you manage Blaine, okay?”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian wasn’t sure why he expected Will to arrive at the front door after witnessing Blaine pop all over the place with his magic but he was shocked when he was suddenly in his bedroom. He jumped off of the bed immediately and Enjolras did too, he only gave one little sharp bark before standing guard in between the two men. Will looked like Blaine but didn’t all at once. He had all of the softness of Blaine’s features but with an edge, his voice was deeper and his body was a little more broad. His energy felt powerful, a lot like the high profile, authoritative attorneys he worked around. Seb thought that if Will met his own father, they’d probably respect each other or maybe even golf together. He cleared his throat and grasped the other man’s hand firmly, “sir.” 

Seb kept his eyes trained on Will’s and was thankful for his years around his cutthroat father and uncles, for his experience in law because he was nervous as hell but wouldn’t let any of it show. He stood tall and held his chin high, nodded when expected and took mental notes as if he were at the office getting the by and by on a possible case. 

He touched the crystal underneath his hoodie. “I know, sir. I know how important it is. I love him and I’m going to do my best to take care of him. I know that sounds like a cookie cutter thing to say to your “in law” but it’s true. I’ll do whatever it takes.”  

Sebastian was surprised by how many times Will touched him and softened his words. This man was not the man that Blaine had been cooped up with for class and training. The trial had obviously changed him how could it not? He knew that no words would fix anything for Will and that he wasn’t the type of man that needed small talk or little exchanges. Seb just gave a curt nod and stepped aside so that he could administer the potion. He was a little nervous about the thought of possibly giving Blaine more of the mysterious liquid but maybe Tony or Hunter could help? It didn’t matter, Will was gone and protesting wouldn’t work on somebody like him anyway. 

He turned towards his friends and gave a sigh of relief. “Yeah, that was crazy.” Sebastian set the little vial on the night sand and whistled for Ras to follow him. He gave the dog’s head a ruffle and a kiss and a whispered thanks for protecting him in the bedroom. Sebastian encouraged the dog to cuddle up on the couch with Tony and Hunter and pulled down some extra blankets and pillows for them. He tossed the blankets on top of their laps. “I’m not tucking you in.”

Sebastian was glad to finally lay his head on the pillows and wrap his arm around Blaine’s waist in his bed. He had missed sleeping next to his boyfriend, missed being pressed against him, missed the comfort of the weight on the other side of the bed. Seb pressed his nose into the side of the other man’s neck and sighed, “I love you.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine had been fighting for consciousness for what felt like forever. He kept swimming up to the muddy surface, could hear the muffled voices of his loved ones, could feel Freya next to him, Ras at his feet and Seb’s gentle hands worrying over him, but no matter how hard he tried to speak or move or just open his eyes he couldn’t. Little bits of conversation floated down to him, fighting through the mud and muck of his mind- Scars… blisters… not allowed to raise children… of course he was graceful… I hope this was all worth it… I’m always on his side, he’s my son… Sir… I love him… when suddenly there was a bitter taste and whispered words that commanded he wake up and he wanted nothing more than to follow through. A little blue light reached out for him and seemed to pull, pull, pull him up and through the darkness and it seemed like years before he was able to finally open his eyes.

They opened to darkness, his friends and father gone and he wanted to yell until his voice, still raw from his trail, gave out. Slowly, his other senses started to move back into place and he was made fully aware that his Sebastian was holding him close, so tightly that Blaine wanted to drift back off to sleep. But, he knew he needed to let him know he was there, let him know he was awake and that he was with him. Little flitters of light charged throughout his neck where Seb’s nose trailed and pressed and the feeling of his words against Blaine’s skin sent tingles of happiness down his spine. Sebastian’s I love you hung in the air between them and Blaine wanted to tell him so much in that moment. Wanted to tell him about the trial and how his dad had been helping and how angry he was that they kicked him out, but how happy he was that he got to stay with Sebastian. 

He wanted to rant about not being able to freely see his friends or father or live in his mother’s world anymore, and he wanted to yell about how ridiculous it all was to be punished when they’d proved they were Fated. He wanted to cry to him about how unfair it was for them to take away their choice to have kids, maybe Seb had once, long ago, said he didn’t want that and Blaine was content to not be a father, but taking away the choice was unfair and made Blaine feel trapped. He wanted to sob to him about the disconnect he felt with his magic, and how they were going to monitor him like a criminal for the rest of his life. And he wanted to tell Sebastian that even with the pain of his losses, and his sadness over everything that had happened in the past forty eight hours that it was all still worth it for him. 

It took him too many minutes but finally he managed to move his body so that he was turned towards his boyfriend just enough to make out his features in the dim moonlight. He’d been forced to wait so long to move that Seb had already drifted off. Blaine sighed, and though he knew he had so much more he needed to say he also knew they now had the time. Maybe it would take days for him to be able to talk freely, maybe weeks, but soon he’d talk to him. He’d show him that even though it hurt he was happy he’d won. His lips finally managed to move, and his rusted vocal cords stirred and he settled on the only  words that mattered.

“Love you back.” 

The words were soft and so raspy that Blaine was almost sure Seb had missed them. But his boyfriend's body jerked softly awake and Seb lifted his head up to look down at Blaine and Blaine tried his hardest to smile. Seb smiled back, and gently turned Blaine so that his back was pressed against Seb’s chest, a reverse of their usual and Blaine let himself fall into a real sleep to the slow steady breathing of Seb’s breath on the back of his neck, Freya’s soft fur tickling the top of his head and Ras snoring away with the sleepy energy of Tony and Hunter in the living room.

 /fin.

Happy Holidays everyone. We’ll continue after the new year! -S and H