#ed was so desperate to protect himself that he had to do terrible things to pretend to be Blackbeard again

[tizzyizzy]

Telling but not showing is bad writing when it comes to plot elements of this scale. There wasn't just one incident. It was multiple raids and incidents of mistreatment. Not only that, the incidents were presented with such seriousness, they needed an equally serious apology, not one played for laughs.

The crew forgave Izzy because they were all in the same boat (literally), being abused by the same enemy. This is a major bonding experience; people will put aside old grudges to protect one another. Izzy was also treated with exceptional cruelty from Ed, which would naturally make them more sympathetic.

Not to mention, we see that Izzy is trying to get Ed to consider the welfare of the crew. He drew attention to himself and got himself shot. It is likely that the crew witnessed Izzy attempt to do what he could to protect the crew and talk Ed down. They saw him as a fellow victim being abused, desperately trying to keep things together while Ed handed down more and more unreasonable orders.

Finally, Izzy literally saved all of their lives by shooting Ed in the arm and betraying his captain.

Once the crew was reunited, Izzy not only had Ed's former crew to vouch for him, he was so harmless and pathetic that sympathy would outweigh anger.

Ed wasn't obviously in pain and in desperate need of help. In fact, he'd recently tried to kill a bunch of them. They did not bond with Ed over shared trauma. Ed's apology was terrible and he never performed some kind of action that showed real concern for the crew.

i see people criticizing "you are surrounded by family, ed, they love you" and i definitely get why it's hard to swallow after what we saw happening at the start of the season. i see people saying "they love izzy, they hate ed, he barely apologized to them"

here's what I'd like to point out about that

we are very happy to accept that the crew forgave and accepted izzy at the start of s2.

in s1 izzy was very much a part of stranding most of the crew on that tiny island and leaving them to die. he had previously even planned on killing the crew off, you know, the uszh. he repeatedly tried to kill stede. he was pleased lucius was dead. but somewhere between the seasons things changed, things we did not see happen. we suspend our belief and fill in the blanks.

he's a dick but he's our dick.

why do we not do the same thing for ed? we saw him make a lot more effort to put things right between him and the crew than we did from izzy. we even know the crew has a long history of actually adoring ed, in the times when izzy was an active threat to their safety. ed fucked up, messed up his relationship with the crew, and we see the result.

maybe the visuals of ed making amends (corporate non-apology, calypso's birthday) are just not enough against the power of our imagination when it comes to the crew starting to care about izzy in between seasons. either way the crew have shown a tremendous capability to forgive - if they were able to do that for izzy, why not ed?

if we're able to fill in the blanks about the development of the crew's bond with izzy, why can't we do the same about in-between-episodes time between the crew and ed?

if the crew can forgive izzy, why do we find it hard to believe they forgave ed too?

the season suffers from being cut short, and from djenks et co not knowing if they'll be able to continue the story. we see ed make effort in the season but there definitely could have been more, i agree with that.

the death scene still does not fit the tone of the show imo, it could have been done differently, and that discussion is live all over the internet. but i don't think that "they love you, ed" was untrue.

izzy knows the best how much the crew loved ed. he watched them fawn over him in s1, first as a legend, then one of their captains, and then after act of grace treat him as a friend who needed help and care, all of which izzy forcibly took away from him in s1 finale.

and izzy has himself felt the love and compassion the crew is capable of towards someone who may not seem deserving of it.

who else but izzy can say with certainty that they do love ed? he sees them, it took him some time but he learned to see value in stede bonnet, his management style, and the crew. he gets it.

[candied-cae]

I think the reason Ed stared at Lucius so long and so darkly before pushing him over... is because he was begging him to realize what was happening and stop him.

He had settled it in himself - the only way to survive Izzy right now is to harden up again. Put back on the mask, and be the guy who never cared. So he lets that red silk slip past his fingers into the air. He imagines it hitting the ocean water, soaking and getting heavy, drowning. Drowning beneath the waves, all the way to the bottom. There's a whisper in his mind that wants to join it. Wants to reject Blackbeard and soften so much that he lets himself sink to the bottom of the ocean. From that thought, there is a weakness.

And from that weakness, he could not just return to being Blackbeard convincingly. Lucius would fuck it up. He knew he would. Lucius had seen too much of him. He saw how much he loved Stede, he saw what mess he was when he left with Jack, he saw him cuddled in the pillow fort when Stede left him. Lucius knew too much. He’d look at him and see what was going on. He’d look into his eyes and see the cage where he’d have to lock up Edward Teach again. And if he wasn’t careful, Lucius would open the door and let Ed back out again.

It was too risky. Lucius had to go. Or else he'd lose everything he had left.

So he called Lucius into the quarters. Welcomed him out of the little passage to the small balcony on the edge of the ship. He was rambling, about something or other, Ed couldn't listen. He needed to focus on his resolve. So, in the dark light after the sun had set, surrounded only by wind and salty seawater, he looked at him. He was readying himself to do what needed to be done. He let his face fall into the familiar hardset expression of Blackbeard: cold, uncaring, angry, scary, cruel.

He began a count in the back of his mind: When he reached 10 he’d push, he made himself promise.

He gazed up through the grimace and met Lucius’s eyes. And a part of him begged that Lucius would do just what he was scared he’d do: that’d he’d look into those eyes and see what turmoil was winding around his heart. He begged Lucius to see it. To see what he was planning and to get out of the way. To get out of the way before he reached-

10.

And he pushed.

And Lucius was gone.

And he turned around and went back inside. He tried to keep that face fallen, still, committed. But fuck if he didn't feel that deep regret clawing up his throat. There was a fury towards himself seated there, at the base of his neck just above his heart. He felt it pulsing with what he'd done. And the worse part was that it was just the beginning of what he had to do.

He would maim Izzy to prove he was Blackbeard again, he'd get rid of everything that reminded him of Stede, and he'd abandon that crew they shared.

Every action made that resentment he held for himself beat louder. Each person he knew he was hurting made the beast hunger to see himself repaid for his crimes. He hated himself every second. He was the Kraken again. Once more he's killed and hurt, personally, because he had to survive. It settled Izzy enough. He'd leave him be. He would live with that fear that commanded his respect.

But every night, when he was finally alone again... he'd let that thing run free. He'd curl up by the window and sob while the monster ran his mind ragged, forcing himself to look at that lighthouse painting. Forcing him to remember that he was abandoned by Stede because, at the end of the day, he did see who he really was, just like he said when he left with Jack. Forcing him to remember the crew he'd hurt for the sake of himself who was so unworthy. He didn't deserve their deaths in place of his. But something in him couldn't be brought to let himself die. Something in him was still vying to live.

Maybe it was hope that he was wrong, that all could be forgiven, and Stede would come back to him.

Such a stupid, wasteful thing: hope.

Of everything else, he'd rather like to strangle the life out of that thing.

More OMFD

[yourwakingnightmares]

So, I had a thought about Roy Mustang, and wanted to share. (Please read all the way through, I’m a huge Roy fan, despite how the first half of this post may seem, this isn’t an anti-Roy post, but rather a character study of sorts).

So normally, throughout the show, we see that Roy is calm, cool, and collected. He doesn’t show any emotion really, beyond smugness, or satisfaction at times. It takes the death of his best friend before we actually see some real emotion from him, and even then, he tries to hide it away, with the infamous, “It’s a terrible day for rain.” line.

Compare that -Mustang, sitting in his office with his team, or Mustang interrogating Major Armstrong following Hughes’ death -to what we see when he goes after Lust. When he goes after Envy.

That’s not even cold anger. That’s burning rage. In those two scenes, Roy is legitimately terrifying. He’s cruel. 

His words to Lust, for example: “You said I couldn’t kill you, but I’d like the opportunity to prove you wrong. So how many times is it gonna take?” Or with Envy later, “Isn’t it interesting how quickly the tongue can be turned into a mess of boiling grease?”

That’s borderline sadistic, when you think about it. We see other people in the show get angry. Hell, in that same scene, Riza starts shooting, cursing, “You bitch!”. We see Ed -many, many times -lose his cool and start cussing out his enemies.

This is something different, though. This isn’t the desperate anger, a person pushed to the edge, and in emotional turmoil.

Roy in those scenes isn’t conflicted. He’s not in turmoil. He’s not desperate. He’s pissed. This isn’t a righteous fury, or desperation. This is rage.

So how do we fit this into Roy’s character? The man who deeply cares about his subordinates, who tries to protect the two boys under his command as much as he can, the man who’s a ‘lady’s man’, suave, cool, and collected? How does this aspect fit in?

Well, like most of Roy’s character development, we have to go back to Ishval. In Ishval, when a twenty-three year old Roy decided that he’d do what it took to get home, so he could ‘climb to the top of the pyramid’ as Hughes puts it. He’s willing to do whatever he has to, to try and make things right.

So he puts it all aside, tucking it away in that little black box in the back of his mind. The betrayal he feels by his government? Black box. The guilt over what he’s done? Black box. The horror at what he’s seen? Black box. The choices he’s had to make? Black box. As he tells Ed, “We keep moving. Whatever it takes. Even if it’s through a river of mud.”

Roy Mustang is the king of denial, the ruler of suppressing, the undisputed champion of compartmentalization. For a decade, this is how Roy survives. This is how he avoids eating a gun, how he gets up in the morning. He just doesn’t think about it. Shoves it down, and hides all those things away in the deepest parts of himself.

So what we see when Roy loses it? When he brutally tortures Lust and Envy? Roy is letting all that pain, all that self-loathing, all the guilt, the shame, the betrayal all out in those moments. What we see there is everything from Ishval making itself known.

And what makes it worse? Roy knows that this aspect of him exists. He knows what he’s capable of, when he opens that black box and let’s it all come bubbling out, like a volcano finally erupting, destroying everything in its path. We know he knows this... because he tells Riza that part of her job is to be ready to kill him if needed. He knows that each time he opens that box, that he lets himself feel everything he’s kept hidden away, tucked in the darkest corners of his mind, there’s a possibility that he’ll lose it; that he’s dancing along the edge of a knife, ready to topple off.

He knows exactly what he’s capable of. That he could very easily become worse than Kimblee. That there’s a part of him that’s just as broken, and dangerous, as Kimblee is.

Both suave, swarmy Roy and cruel, rage-filled Roy are the same person. He’s able to be suave and collected because of that rage. But that rage exists because he’s forcing himself to be so calm and rational.

These two aspects showcase Roy’s trauma in a heart-breaking way. Neither one of them is the ‘Real’ Roy at this point. The real Roy Mustang -the boy who wanted to protect people, who volunteered, the young idealist boy who told Master Hawkeye he was going to help -died in Ishval.

These two disparate parts of his personality are all that’s left of that boy. The man he so desperately wants to be, and the angry boy raging at the injustice and unfairness of it all.

[julesblackthorns]

thinking deeply ab the contrast between edward and winry and mustang and hawkeye today. bc on the surface there are lots of similarities between them - childhood friendship growing into mutual but unspoken love, a boy joining the military and leaving a girl behind, a terrible mistake, a girl losing her family - and these are challenged always thru how ed and winry respond to the same issues mustang and hawkeye had.

when ed performs human transmutation and loses his brother's body and two of his limbs, winry builds him a new arm and leg, but she doesn't follow him into the military like hawkeye does w mustang. hawkeye even tells winry that she's in the military specifically to protect mustang and winry takes that to heart and tries to protect ed as best she can thru making him the best prosthetics. similarly, ed truly does despise the way mustang kills ppl and swears to not take lives, even in the military - no matter how difficult it makes things for him.

mustang inspired hawkeye to follow him into the military, into war, into hell and regrets it every day of his life - sees every life she takes as another on his kill count - and hawkeye gave mustang the weapon he needed to become a weapon of mass destruction and regrets giving him that burden - sees every life he takes as another on her kill count. there is so much violence built into the foundation of their dynamic.

whereas winry challenges ed joining the military, chooses to live her own life and follow her own dreams, and ed doesn't want winry involved in military politics or violence - desperately trying not to die at every turn bc he doesn't want to be the reason she cries. they are surrounded by violence, and yet they attempt to keep each other away from performing it.

in the same way, while hawkeye is at mustang's side for most of the promised day arc, edward leaves winry in resembool, asking her to wait for him (which parallels van hohenheim and trisha's final scene) and her confirming that she will. while hawkeye is used against mustang, has her throat slit, and is back on her feet directing mustang's fire minutes later - winry is far from the battleground.

and the difference can be summarised in this clear visual parallel:

when winry picks up the gun, ed slowly pulls her fingers away and lets the gun fall to the ground telling her that 'her hands aren't made for killing people, they're for helping them live' - citing how many people winry has helped including himself ('you gave me an arm and leg so i could stand again') and reaffirming how they've made the choice every day not to kill and use violence. he then holds her while she cries, the both of them on their knees.

in contrast, when hawkeye picks up the gun, it is not in defense of mustang, but for her to use on him due to his brutalisation of envy. hawkeye is horrified by the excessive violence mustang uses on one of his enemies and the personal satisfaction he takes from causing pain and chooses to put a stop to him. once mustang realises his actions have jeopardised his mission, everything he stands for, and hawkeye's own life he stands down and begs for forgiveness. he does not try to take her hand from the gun, instead holding her shaking hand steady and slowly lowering the weapon. he tells hawkeye that he has 'hurt [her] again' hopelessly and he then sinks to the ground. she kneels across from him. they do not touch and they do not hold each other.

ed sacrifices his alchemy, gets his brother's body back, returns home, gets the girl and the family and the happy life. he realises he does not need power when he has so much love and family in his life.

mustang keeps his devastating powers, regains his eyesight thru the use of the philosophers stone - something ed absolutely refused to do, and gains political power while never being allowed to be with the woman he loves or openly celebrate his family. that is the cost of the power he wants.

mustang's journey is one of power-hunger and destruction, hawkeye is caught up in it as both a victim and perpetrator, it's why they don't get a 'happy' ending. ed and winry's journies are centred around selflessness and non-violence and that is why they do.

[violetnotez]

matchup for drew  |  JJK

Request a matchup here

Hey babe! So I match you up with....

 Ｉｎｕｍａｋｉ Ｔｏｇｅ

Look at this pretty boy like ughhh youre so lucky 😭

Inumaki is incredibly loyal-he wouldn’t ever ever give you a reason not to trust him

Also, don’t let his quietness fool you-he is a total trickster/prankster and will always be doing something silly to get you to laugh

He really likes training with you-to him it’s quite therapeutic and a great way to bond with you

But he’s cheeky at times if your doing close combat-he’ll just quickly plant a kiss on your cheeks to get you distracted so he can pin you down 💀

He thinks it’s amazing you’re so skilled in so many sports-it takes a lot to train, and he respects it a lot!

The one he really wanted you to teach him was rollerskating-one day he’d just walk into your room, hand holding a pair of new skates and just plainly saying “Tuna?”

Tuna meaning Please teach me, I know you’re busy but I’m bored and I just wanna have some fun please please please 🥺

He caught on to it really quickly, and in no time you two were blasting music and making trips to the grocery store for some sweets as quick little dates

Inumaki at one point tried to teach Panda and Maki, but Panda was totally decked out in headgear and shoulder pads and still ate shit every 2 seconds 💀

When he first met you, he honestly wasn’t really that intimidated

He still got that nervous rush of meeting someone new, but he was used to meeting intimidating girls-Nobara and Maki being perfect examples of that

Maki was so relieved to have another girl, and you two hit it off amazingly-you two would always be paired together cause you work great off each other as partners and as friends

Panda is just so lovingly protective for you, like if you feel uncomfy in public at times or just feel awkward in general, he’s right there to just give some support 🖤

He just approached you like he would with them, just a quick nod of his head and maybe a reply like “Bonito flakes” to be respectful

He is really intrigued by you-he’s naturally curious, how could he not when he has someone new and pretty in front of him~

But he gave you space, not wanting to intrude or make you uncomfy

But once you begin to open up, OH MY GOD he is so happy!

You get along well with his friends, it’s almost hard to imagine you not being in there friend group at one point-

Whenever something makes you smile, he starts noticing it makes him feel all fluttery inside,,,

Or when he is able to make you chuckle, he finds himself smiling but so grateful he’s able to hide his cheeks with his clothing-

He isn’t oblivious, he obviously knows he caught feelings but he’s super scared to say anything

Cause-how could he even tell you? It’s not like he could just walk up to you and say “Let’s go on a date-“

You could say no and reject him....or even worse, he could make a terrible choice of words and force you on a date by accident with his cursed technique

The 2nd option was too terrifying to him, so he opted to text you a picture of him holding a sign that says “Date?” like a prom proposal, his lilac eyes unable to look at the screen

He definitely begged Panda to take it, cause the picture was pretty fuzzy and theres a furry finger on a corner of the photo

But you thankfully said yes, and Inumaki took you to a roller skating rink, thinking you’d feel comfortable there to hang out. Which was a great plan, until Toge realized he didn’t know how to rollerskate

Panic ensues

The whole time he was desperately trying to repeat to himself “Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall-“ and still look cool at the same time 💀

It was still cute though, and after you helping him out a bit he caught on very quickly

Still did fall a few times, but when you would giggle and help him up he felt a lot better about it 🥺

Needless to say, was probably the main reason he asked you later on to teach him how to skate properly 💀

And also the main reason your guys’ second date was at a very flat forest with little shrines and fish ponds to look into

Inumaki reallllyyyy craves physical touch, but he never forces it upon you

At the beginning of your relationship, it was really delicate touches, from intertwining pinkies to resting his head on your shoulder

But then it slowly became more and more as you two got more comfortable

This dude will just full on run behind you and wrap his arms around you if hes tired

Or snatch your hand and squeeze it tightly if hes afraid you might be in danger

Does this really cute thing where he puts his forehead on yours and stays there for a sec- dont ask him why he does it, he’ll start blushing but he just likes feeling close to you like that  🥺

Songs for Your Relstionship: Paradise by Coldplay,  Beautiful People by Ed Sheeran, Timeless by We Three

Drabble:

“Toge, what are you doing-and when did you get those?” you questioned, your eyes scrunched up in confusion as you eyed the white haired boy in front of you.

Inumaki was standing in your doorway, his jacket zipped up fully so only his violet eyes were visible. In his hands were a pair of roller skates, the wheels a clear plastic while the shoes being a periwinkle blue. 

All he did was simply walked into your room, knowing it like the back of hand from countless visits as he picked up your skates that had been left on the floor from the day before. He simply held out both pairs, one simple word of “Tuna” presented out of his mouth.

Your eyebrows furrowed even more, head tilting slightly as you shifted on your bed.

What the hell did he want you to....

“Do you want me....to teach you how to roller skate?”

You saw him instantly light up, obviously ecstatic you had understood him so quickly. He simply nodded his head once as confirmation, violet eyes wide with relief and anticipation.

Inumaki had been bristling to get back in those skates after he had done such a disastrous attempt at your first date. Everytime he thought about how much he had fallen he always internally cringed, almost able to still feel the bruises on his rear that lasted days after.

You had looked so graceful and so happy that day, like you were gliding on top of water as you did laps around the rink or simply to just pick him off the ground after he had eaten shit. He wanted to be able to do that with you, to be able to have picnic dates at the park or just glide over to a store to buy some sweets and ice cream-he had so many cute ideas planned it was almost overwhleming.

He just needed to learn how to skate without painting his body in bruises first.

“Oh, Toge, Im so sorry-” he heard you saw, his heart falling slightly at the sound of guilt in your voice, “but I have some assingments I have to finish....maybe we can do it this weekend?”

That happy expression he had had a few moments before faltered slightly, his lips pursed and nose scrunched under his jacket. 

But Inumaki was persistent-he wasnt one to take no for an answer, especially when he knew how to get what he wanted with a few dirty tricks.

Toge took a few steps towards you, his knee landing on top of your bed and making it dip under his weight, wrapping his arms around you in an inescapable hug.

Inumaki was pretty clever, as he knew it was hard for you to resist him when he was being clingy. He simply nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, white hair tickling your jawline, hands squeezing your sides gently.

You sighed, rolling your eyes slightly with an amused smirk as your propped yourself on your elbows and looked down at your boyfriend, who was clearly milking it to get what he wanted.

“Youre not gonna let go unti l say yes, huh?”

Inumaki picked his head up, violet eyes soft yet mischeivously as he shook his head gently-

This brat wasnt going to let go until you did exactly what he wanted. 

You sighed exaperatedly, looking up at the ceiling as you felt Inumaki chuckle against your stomach.

“Fine then...” you gave in, finding it adorable how quickly his face light up.

“-But you have to buy me snacks and be my study partner for the rest of the night.”

Toge instantly smiled, the crinkles of the expression showing around his eyes. Getting you to teach him how to roller skate, and have a study date right after? This day was getting better and better for him.

“Salmon!” he agreed quickly, shuffling off of your form and handing you your skates- you were going to make him a pro after today, and he was more than ready.

I hoped you liked these, and thank you for requesting!! <3

[onechicago-upsteadrhekker]

Either 90 or 84 would be perfect for Upstead from that 100 prompts list you reblogged! (:

Hi everyone! 

Here’s another prompt! @karihighman also requested #84 and if you’d like to read it, you can click on this. And like I promised, this one is much lighter than that one. So enjoy and let me know what you think! I also got a little carried away and the beginning is kind of random so sorry about that but I hope you like it anyway! #90 is “I brought food.”

*title is taken from a Sleeping at Last song entitled ‘Life’*

my heart reconciled all the darkness and light inside my chest

When Hailey was a little girl she’d never really thought about her future.

She was never one of those girls who played dress up or played with dolls or imagined their wedding day and pretended they were playing house. Maybe that was because she had only older brothers or maybe it was because of her father’s behavior towards her mom. 

The only thing she’d known for certain was that she wasn’t going to grow up to be her mother.

She’d known that from an early age. She recognized her mom’s loyalty to her dad; that her mom would never run or go to the police. That her dad abusing her mom was not okay and her mom shouldn’t stand for it or protect him or justify his behavior.

Hailey had promised herself that she would never make the same mistake.

The only things Hailey knew for sure was that she wouldn’t be with someone like her dad, ever. No matter how hard it was. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t trust so blindly and get sucked into a man who didn’t care about her.

She would be brave and take care of herself first and foremost.

When Hailey got older; old enough to leave the situation that was her mom and dad she knew exactly how she was going to protect herself. And it had come from one Trudy Platt who worked Robbery-Homicide when she was 12 and a gun was shoved in her face.

Watching Trudy Platt be a cop was all she needed to see to make up her mind that that was what she wanted to do as soon as she was old enough. In that one night, she’d felt more at home and at peace in a police station than she ever had before. Even with her brothers who at that point had all pretty much left home.

Hailey had always been a driven person; she’d finished high school at the age of 17, already having a few college credits under her belt. She was accepted into University of Chicago, paid in full through scholarships and a lot of hard work on her part and completed a degree in Criminal Justice all at the age of 22. And then she went straight to the Academy and was well on her way to a successful police career.

That had been her plan. Anything after that, like a personal life or friends or guys, well, that had never been in her plans and it only happened because they had been there and she supposed it was nice as long as it didn’t interfere with her success.

There had been many bumps in the road and a lot of heartbreak she hadn’t been anticipating but she knew how the world worked so really, she shouldn’t have been surprised. But she’d picked herself back up again and went on with her life, continuing to build her life into successful one. One that her parents should have been proud of if she’d told them but she had decided to keep her past life in the past and she preferred it that way.

And then she landed a spot in Intelligence and then there was Jay Halstead.

A brooding pain in her ass at first but then she’d finally started to get him to open up and she realized what a caring and compassionate person he was under his tough exterior and as fate would have it, she fell in love with him.

It hadn’t been planned, just like everything else but Jay was different. He was special and for the first time she began imagining a future. One with a house and a husband and maybe even children.

Someone that loved her and protected her and took care of her and that someone just happened to be in the form of the best partner she’d ever had, both at work and in life.

So, if someone had told Hailey all those years ago when she was a scared little girl listening to her parents scream and throw things that one day she would have an incredibly successful career which she loved and a man who loved her more than life itself, she probably would have laughed.

Her head was killing her and all she wanted was some massive pain killers and her own bed in her own home but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. At least not right at this moment and it was all thanks to her freakishly stubborn partner.

And his dumb brother.

She heard Will slip into her hospital room, his shoes squeaking on the tile floor as he made his way over to her bed. His footfalls sounded like grenades going off and the squeaking wasn’t doing anything to help her still ringing ears.

She groaned, waving the arm that wasn’t currently draped over her eyes to try and convey to Will that she needed more meds ASAP without actually having to use her brain to make words.

“Head still killing you?” 

God, why was he talking so loud? She moved her arm a tiny bit to peek up at him through bleary eyes, the dimmed lights still harsh against her weak glare.

His face appeared above her, the red-hair hard to miss even if she was squinting but then he had the audacity to smirk at her and she tried to glare harder but her head freaking hurt.

“Yep, that’s what I thought. I’ll up your dose of pain medication. It’s hospital-grade you know, you wouldn’t have been able to have it if you’d went home.”

She wanted to roll her eyes or give him the finger or something but everything hurt and it wasn’t worth giving him the satisfaction. Honestly, he was almost as bad as Jay except he found more humor out of the situation whereas Jay just worried her to death.

She was starting to gather how much stuff like this affected him. This was the first time she’d been really hurt since joining Intelligence and she knew Jay could be over-protective but he acted like she was dying. She was grateful that he was forced to go home and get himself cleaned up. Up until an hour ago, he had still reeked of smoke and ash, still wearing his dirty clothes and vest because he hadn’t left her side.

She knew that was partly due to the fact she’d been desperate to escape the hospital and hole herself away in her house but seeing as how she had a major concussion along with other scrapes and bruises, she wasn’t going anywhere for at least the night no matter how much she insisted she was fine.

“Feeling any better?” Will’s voice interrupted her thoughts and now that he’d asked, she realized the pounding in her head had been lessened and she couldn’t see the blinding light behind her eyelids anymore.

She took an experimental blink, slowly removing her hand that she’d had clasped over her eyes. The light still seemed a bit harsh but she could tolerate it without pain shooting through her head.

Hailey glanced over to Will who actually had a sympathetic look on his face instead of the smirk he’d worn a few minutes ago, “Yes. Thank you.”

He smiled, “Anytime Hailey. Just don’t go getting blown up any more because I think my brother just might have a stroke,” Will’s eyes softened, “I think you’ve grown on him.”

She smiled fondly at that, “Well, he’s grown on me too and believe you me, I do not have any intentions on getting that close to a homemade bomb again.”

Will patted her arm lightly, making a move to leave the room, “I’ll hold you to it,” He winked, flashing a grin she’d seen Jay grin on rare occasions, “But seriously, you’ve grown on all of us. I’d hate to see anything happen to you.”

Hailey smiled back at him, “Thanks Will.” 

“Well, I’ll leave you in some peace and quiet before Jay shows back up, ready to answer your every beck and call.”

She sighed, letting her head roll so she was staring straight at the ceiling before closing her eyes to savor the silence that she was actually starting to hear. She wasn’t sure if it was because she was just getting used to the ringing in her ears or if it was actually fading.

Not that she’d ever show it, but today had been a little too close for comfort. She and Jay had answered a call over the zone. Dispatch had just said there were reports of shots fired, coming from inside a house a few blocks away so they’d gone over there to check things out. They had cleared the house, not finding anyone or anything suspicious so they’d gone back outside and Jay had walked over to speak to neighbor out walking his dog. That’s when Hailey noticed the shed in the back and decided to go have a quick look when everything blew up and she was thrown backwards.

The next few minutes had been hazy. All she could recall was Jay frantically radioing for back up; calling for an ambo and asking for dispatch to roll the bomb squad. And then he was saying her name frantically, telling her to stay awake, to open her eyes but all she could focus on was the pain bombarding her head and the terrible ringing in her ears. She couldn’t even tell if she was hurt anywhere else.

Once she’d gotten situated in the ED and felt like she could talk without throwing up, she’d asked if she could go home and that had really set Jay off. To be honest she hadn’t really payed attention to what he was saying because she really hadn’t felt good but she knew it was along the lines of ‘no way’.

And she knew how lucky she was to come away with only a concussion a few minor burns so she supposed his concern was justified but still. But whatever, she felt like 100 times better since then so she guessed it was a good thing she’d been forced to stay.

There was a soft knock on the door and Jay slipped in, his face full of relief when he saw her awake and somewhat coherent. He lifted up a bag of to-go from her favorite Chinese place, “I brought food.”

She smiled at him as he walked over to sit in the chair beside her bed, “Thanks.”

He sat the bag on the nightstand, his eyes never leaving her face, “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

Hailey resisted from rolling her eyes as she didn’t want to worsen her headache, “I’m fine, Jay. You can stop worrying. You don’t need too. You don’t even need to be here.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Of course I need to be here. Where else would I be? You’re my partner.”

Jay rubbed his hands against his jeans, “You’ve been there for me more times than I can already count and it’s time for me to be here for you. Make sure you’re okay. That’s my job.”

Hailey regarded him for minute. She had been through enough with him to know that he was more affected from what happened today and it wasn’t just because she’d gotten hurt.

“Jay, you know this wasn’t your fault, right?” He met his eyes and she could see his hesitation before he nodded. She wasn’t totally convinced but she wasn’t going to push the issue, at least not at the moment.

She caught his eyes with her gaze and she knew there was more than he wanted to let on but Hailey had always been very perceptive, especially where Jay was involved because he was her partner too and she had a job too. 

Besides, she cared about him. They’d already been through enough to know that there was a quiet affection between them.

“This is about the actual bomb, isn’t it?” The way his eyes flicked to hers in slight surprise told her all she needed to know, “Brought back memories?”

At his sharp nod, she sighed, “You know you can talk to me about it. Anything at all. I’m here to listen.”

He gave her a feeble smile, “Thanks, I really do appreciate it Hailey, it’s just seeing you there, hurt.” He took a breath and looked away, “It just reminded me of my times overseas and I wondered if I was about loose another friend to an explosive.”

“I’m okay Jay. I promise. I’m right here,” She wasn’t sure what else to say. She couldn’t imagine what he’d seen and gone through in Afghanistan but she wanted him to know that she was there for him, no matter what.

It took him a few seconds but he nodded, “I know.”

“And you’re still going to therapy, right?” She prompted even though she knew full well he was because she was monitoring his status by periodically checking in with him. 

He smiled at her then, a little shy, “Yeah, I am.” They held each others gazes for a second before he cleared his throat, shaking his head in slight exasperation, “What am I doing? Why are we talking about me when it’s you in a hospital bed?”

She laughed lightly. Yes, her head was still pounding and her whole body hurt but she’d wanted to make sure Jay was alright. 

Her eyes were soft, “I’m just watching your back, Jay. You’re my partner and,” She gave him a small smile, “You’re my friend.”

Jay was quiet for a moment before reaching a hand out to squeeze hers, “Right back at you and now it’s time for me to take care of you.” He pulled out some Lo Mein, winking at her as he handed the container to her, “So food. Couldn’t let my best partner eat the crappy cafeteria food.”

She wasn’t sure if he’d even realized what he’d said or if he even meant to say it and she wasn’t going to bring it up but her heart swelled at hearing that he thought she was his best partner because that’s how she felt too. They were good together and they had this pull, something between them that she’d never felt before and she knew he felt it too.

He sat for a long time, well into the night, even after she’d fallen asleep. They’d kept the discussion to a minimum because of her head but she couldn’t help but quietly laugh when Jay had regaled her with some stories of Intelligence before she’d joined while they ate.

The rest of the evening was spent in a comfortable silence as she listened to Jay breathe where he sat in the chair beside her bed going over reports and it was the first time that she truly felt like she’d have Jay Halstead in her life for a long time in some capacity.

And that thought made her very content.

Hailey was extremely content. She couldn’t begin to describe how happy and fulfilled she felt and she never wanted this moment to end.

She heard the hospital door open softly and Jay appeared wearing a bears hoodie and sweatpants, a small duffel bag thrown over his shoulder.

“I brought food,” His voice was soft as he held up the bag of Chinese in his hand. Dropping the duffel, he approached the bed, pressing a kiss to Hailey’s forehead as he put the to-go bag on the nightstand.

Hailey smiled at him lazily, the warm weight on her chest calming as she took in a deep breath. She hummed quietly, “Thank you.”

She nodded to the bag of food, “You know, I was just thinking about that time I got hurt. The first time I had to stay overnight in the hospital since joining Intelligence because of that bomb,” She suppressed a smile, “You brought me Chinese then too.” 

“A lot has changed between now and then and for once we aren’t in the hospital because of an injury,” He nodded to the baby curled up on Hailey’s bare chest, her left hand patting the newborn’s back giving Jay a good look at her wedding and engagement rings.

She grinned, planting a gentle kiss to the baby’s head, reaching out for Jay’s hand. He squeezed it, settling down on the edge of her bed as they both gazed at the sleeping baby.

“She’s so beautiful,” Jay reached out to stroke her tiny back, his thumb brushing the baby’s exposed neck. He’d never felt skin so soft. He looked at Hailey, love and awe and pride shining in his eyes, “Just like her mother.”

Jay stood up, Hailey’s gaze following him. He leaned over to kiss her on the lips, deep and passionate, drawing away when they ran out of breath.

Hailey’s opened her eyes, raising her brows as her lips ticked up into a pleasantly surprised smile, “What was that for?”

Jay gave her another quick kiss, pushing her hair lovingly behind her ear. He gazed into her eyes, his own lips ticking up into a happy grin, “Just showing my appreciation to my hot, bad ass wife who just gave birth to our daughter.”

Hailey rolled her eyes, smirking as she adjusted the blanket covering her and the infant, “If you keep talking like that we might just have another one of these sooner than expected.”

Jay looked a little concerned at that, eyeing the baby carefully, “Yeah, maybe I should figure out how to take care of this one first.”

Hailey sighed in exasperation, “Jay, we talked about this. You’re gonna be a great father,” She gave him a fond look, “You already are.”

He still didn’t look to convinced and Hailey was amazed at how he could go from being so confident and flirty to being unsure about himself but they’d had conversations about this leading up to the baby’s birth so she wasn’t too surprised. She knew she would just have to convince him otherwise because she knew he was going to be a great dad. She’d seen how he acted around kids, how good he was with them when they worked with children in their jobs.

She wouldn’t have had kids with him if she wasn’t sure. Or even fell in love with him. It was his qualities, the ones she fell in love with, that would make him such a great father. 

Jay took a breath, rubbing the back of his neck before dropping his arm, “Well, I’m going to do my absolute best, I promise you that,” He got serious again, looking into her eyes, “I’m gonna do everything in my power to keep both of you safe and happy for as long as I live and I’ll always be here for you and Ellie. I love you so much.”

Hailey cupped his cheek, stroking her thumb across his cheekbone, “I know. I love you too.” She reached up to give him another quick kiss before drawing back to maneuver the baby sprawled out on her chest.

“Hey,” She glanced at Jay before turning her attention back to the baby, “Could you go get that swaddle in the bag I packed for Ellie?”

Ellie started fussing as Hailey withdrew her from the warm cocoon of her mother’s chest and soft blankets to lay her on the brown swaddle Jay was laying out on the bed in front of her.

“I know, I know, sweet girl,” Hailey soothed as she quickly wrapped the baby up, placing her on her shoulder to calm her down some, patting her back gently, “Shhh, I’ve got you. Mama’s got you.”

When the baby calmed down, she peeked a glance at Jay who looked a little terrified and she had to smother a laugh. Of course, it was a baby that would be Jay Halstead’s biggest fear. A man who was a Chicago police officer and a war vet.

Hailey gave him a look and he swallowed, starting to look more confident as the baby quieted down. He took a breath and moved closer to the bed, “I can hold her while you eat if you want.”

Hailey suppressed a grin. That a boy.

“Yeah, that would be helpful,” She lifted the baby from her shoulder, one hand supporting her neck and the other her bottom and Jay’s hands very carefully replaced hers. 

Hailey leaned back, adjusting her own clothes to cover her chest a little more while she watched Jay with loving smile, her heart bursting with love at the two of them.

He settled the baby in the crook of his arm, cradling her close to his chest and over his heart. He was murmuring something to the newborn, bouncing some as he walked slowly towards the large window, looking down to the busy Chicago streets below.

Hailey watched as Jay’s shoulders slowly relaxed and she knew he was getting lost in the wonder of their daughter’s little face just as she had, forgetting all about his fears of being a father. Tears pricked her eyes as he bent his head to brush a kiss on top of her head.

She could watch them for forever and never get tired.

So, yeah. She’d never thought about a future till she met Jay Halstead but here she was. Sitting in a hospital bed, sore and exhausted from giving birth but so filled with joy, the best future she could ever imagine--never imagined--standing right in front of her.

The End!!

It got a little long and drawn out so I apologize for that. When I started on this prompt I had this vague idea of Hailey in the hospital and Jay bringing her some food and this what it turned into, so go figure... I had like two stories going on with an epic intro that I have no idea where it came from. I hope you enjoyed it regardless and I did want to say that I do have longer stories planned about life events such as the birth of a child and such for upstead and I will be uploading them on AO3 sometime in the future whenever I get said stories written. I just have to do certain stories first because I like revealing names in a special way... I know it sounds stupid but usually when I love a ship, I make up their kids names with like serious thought and I have had upstead kid names for quite a while now. And I also like to pretend all my stories are in the same universe if you will so I like things kind of being chronological if that makes since HOWEVER, I decided that Dancing in the Minefields is kind of an AU situation because I had a plan with upstead’s first kid and the way I’m writing Dancing in the Minefields wouldn’t be the way Jay finds out about said kid. Okay, I know I’m probably making no sense and no one probably cares that much but I can assure you I will explain how each story fits into my ‘Universe’ when I publish them even though no one probably really cares except me.

Anyway, sorry for that super long author’s note and the repetitiveness of it but I am finally feeling better and in the mood to write some upstead fics and hopefully finish the one-shots I’ve been working on, finish a couple of chapters on Dancing in the Minefields so I can publish a new chapter for you guys this Wednesday as well as keep working on the prompts I have received!

Thank you so much for reading this prompt and I would love to hear what you thought about it!!

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Narrow Beds

Oh, it’s been awhile ... fingers creaked as I began to type ... brain hurt trying to remember words ... I have forgotten how much I love to write over the last few months but I think I will begin again ... 

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&

He really should have obeyed more traffic laws getting to the house but he didn’t: thought he saw a cop, began immediately planning alternate route hairpin turns and concocted stories of plunder and raze but in the end, it was just a car with two old ladies and a penchant for drinking their coffee in a parked vehicle as opposed to speeding precariously on the highway.

Regardless, he arrived without incident and knocking on Maggie Scully’s door, fiddled with the keys in his hand until the front door opened up, “Fox. That was quick.”

Desperate to grab her by the arms and ask, in that panicked tone he tried not to let anyone know he had, where Scully was, he instead held himself in check, jamming hands in pockets and rocking on his feet no more than two inches back and forth, “I didn’t catch any red lights.”

Mama Scully half-wondered if he’d driven on the sidewalks part of the way but keeping the traffic lecture to herself, she stepped aside, gesturing towards the steps, “she came in, said ‘I’m fine’ and disappeared upstairs.” Reaching for his elbow, she touched it lightly, “what happened?”

Normally she didn’t ask, knowing their history of diluting the horrors of their day for her benefit, but the look on her daughter’s face when she’d brushed past had her calling Mulder before she heard the bedroom door shut.

He’d been in the car on his way to Scully’s so a detour hadn’t been difficult: two lefts, one right at ‘Oops, I cut it again’ salon and minutes later, he was here.

Fourteen to be exact.

But who was really keeping track.

“We had a bad case. I asked about dinner but she said she just needed a bath and a nap.” Pointing up the stairs to move things along, “she in her old room?”

“Yeah. Thank you, Fox.” Watching his already retreating form, “let me know if you need anything.”

All she got was a wave over his shoulder.

It was enough.

&&&&&&&&&

Having been to her childhood room several times, he knew which door would lead him there instead of the bathroom and knocking lightly, he waited, listening for acceptance or denial of his request.

Instead he got, “I’m fine.”

Opening the door slowly, “you are a big, fat liar.”

She didn’t even flinch at the intrusion that wasn’t her mom, instead simply half-rolling towards him, hands crossed on her stomach, “mom wouldn’t have known that.”

“Your mom is the least dumb person we have ever met. It was your first, ‘I’m fine’ that made her call me and ask what the hell was wrong.”

Instead of denial and irritation at his implication that her world was not all peachy-keen, she stared at him for a long moment, looking from his rumpled t-shirt to his tired eyes, biting her bottom lip in debate and then in resignation at asking for the only thing in the world she wanted at the moment , “are you wearing your shoes?”

Taking the question in stride, “no. I left them downstairs by the door. Why?”

“Because mom doesn’t like shoes on the bed.” Scooting as close to the wall as she could, given she was an adult in a single bed, “would you mind shutting the door and laying down with me, please?”

Shutting as ordered, he maneuvered, with maximum confusion and minimal jostling, to lay behind her on the narrow mattress, “I have forgotten, in my adult years, how much I have grown in relation to my childhood.”

Practically smushed against the wall, she felt an almost-need to try to smile but the mood passed instantly, morose overtaking with lightning speed, “you know, the last person in this bed with me was Melissa; a few weeks before she left for college.”

Not sure where to put his arm, he held it awkwardly against his side, wondering with every passing moment if taking a deep breath would send himself crashing to the floor, “she was decidedly less …” wiggling slightly, his jeans twisted around his knees, “hulking than me.”

The only thing keeping her nose from pressing against the wall was her hand, “she was definitely smaller than you, I won’t argue.”

He’d shared a bed with her before, well, not so much a bed as a quiet corner in some snowed-in airport outside Fargo but whatever.

At least this time, he had the option of covers if necessary.

If only half his body wasn’t hanging off the side of the mattress.

He gave up.

“I’m coming closer.”

For one bless-ed moment, she forgot her churning black cloud in favor of wonderment, “Is that even possible?”

“Hopefully.” Sliding eight millimeters at best, he was now pressed solidly against her from upper chest to ankle, “much better.”

And for some reason, it was the extra warmth, the simultaneous heartbeats, the overwhelming air of another’s existence so close to hers, that made her crumble.

He heard the walls fall, crashing in voided silence and arm be damned, he moved it from himself to her, hand slipping beneath her elbow to rest on her belly, mouth moving as close to her neck as his nose would allow, “it wasn’t our fault.”

“It’s always our fault, Mulder. Every time we go out the door, it’s our fault.”

Moving enough so it was his forehead resting against the back of her head and not his nose, he found himself staring down at the minor flaw in her otherwise perfect neck, “we didn’t know. I didn’t know and you sure as hell didn’t know.”

“Nobody knows anything ahead of time, Mulder but if I had just waited a quarter of a second, a blink of a fucking eye, I would have noticed him. At the academy, the first thing they tell you about handling a gun is always know what’s behind your target. You look behind the damned target before you shoot.”

“No one, not even … shit, not even Superman and his super peepers … would have noticed Jamison under that table. It was pitch black down there. We were doing our job. We did our job and now it’s done and we’re home and jammed into this bed and it wasn’t your fault.” Emphasizing his point, he, for a brief moment, tightened his arm, sinking into cotton-covered stomach, “it wasn’t your fault.” He felt her muscles tighten, knowing full well she was trying to sit up, turn to him, argue his reasoning and he stopped her, quietly, his words drifting over her shoulder, “if you make me fall off this bed with all your arm flailing and point making, I am taking you with me which will just bring your mom up here and then you’ll get in trouble for having a boy in your bed.”

Tensed but debating, she settled back down, logic winning for the shortest possible moment, movement stilled but voice quavering, “I shot and killed a man. Somebody’s husband, Mulder, somebody’s son, somebody’s father. How do I justify that with a simply phrase of ‘it wasn’t my fault’?” Cracking words, her breath hitched violently, chest jumping, abdomen contracting with the effort of not wailing at the top of her lungs, “it was my fault, Mulder. He was hiding under a table. He’d managed to free himself and in trying to escape, heard the raid, crawled under a table and for all his efforts, he died anyway.”

Her last words trailed in a sob and Mulder, ignoring wedged-in bed etiquette, sat up as best he could, wiggled his arm under her neck and finally holding her from both sides, hugged her, kissing each bump of her spine from hairline to neckline, knowing it was time for him to be quiet, to listen, to ache for her.

And when it was time to hold the edge of the mattress as she tried to move closer. Needing any and all leverage he could get to stay on the bed, he simultaneously vee’d his knees, pushing hers forward as well, accidentally-on-purpose spooning to the best of his ability.

She didn’t argue, burrowing into her cocoon of Mulder-heat, vaguely wondering, as the tears flowed out of her and consequently onto him, if it would be, while not scientifically likely, metaphorically possible to crawl inside him, live there protected from the world, for the next few seconds to several hundred years of their combined life.

Choosing to focus on that rather than the harsh reality of now, it still took quite a while for her tears to taper off. Feeling her heart slow its rat-a-tat pace, she whispered into the crook of his elbow, “how do I get through this?”

“Just like we are now. You hold me, I hold you; tomorrow, we do it again.”

It was only now that she began to register how cramped they were, how un-professional they were, how perfect they were, at this very moment and doing a most un-Scully like thing, she let herself sink into the moment, “We should probably find a bigger bed then.”

Hearing just a little of the humor he loved, he chuckled once against her, repositioning his head, deciding both would benefit from a little nap, “I’m not worried about it right now.”

Finding his hand, she ran fingers over crooked knuckles, as close to a handhold as she could manage at the moment, “I wonder if I’ll get grounded if mom finds you here in the morning?”

Already headed to dreamland and taking her with him, “I think we should find out.”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Myth: falling asleep.

Fact: waking up.

Confusion: setting in quickly.

Resolution: someone was mumbling beside him.

Follow-through: Once he’d realized he was indeed awake and for some reason in a bed that was seven to eight times too small for two people, he carefully rolled to his side, creating a precious hands-width of space between him and the mumbler.

About to ask if she was alright, he instead, being the terrible person that he was, eavesdropped.

Because … just … because.

And all he heard was a shopping list.

Sleeping next to him and she dreams of chocolate chips and bacon.

He couldn’t help his smile.

Then she hit ‘lube’ and ‘batteries’ and his interest sky-rocketed.

His smile widened.

Oil change and toilet paper should have bought him back to Earth but it didn’t and he listened to her talk another few moments before silence settled again in the time-locked room.

Continuing to stare at her and the dark grey wall behind her instead of going back to sleep, he began thinking in Mulder-type fits and spurts about time and space and awareness and his infinitesimally small space in the universe.

Did the universe still exist outside the room?

Had he been granted his desire to wake beside her only to have the rest of existence forget about them and consequently, forget about existence in the process?

What if Scully’s God had raptured the world and left them behind, alone but together?

Outside the door could be nothing, a vast void of blackness stretching out beyond infinity?

He wasn’t supposed to be here. This was just a rest stop between today and tomorrow. He ought to have been at home on his couch, comfortably hugged by warm leather and soft cotton.

Instead, he was in some weirdly light, hollow, empty, anticipating place.

He could feel the room around him. Everything in it, except him, resting their weary constructs: dust motes, drafts, deliciously warm partners. It unsettled him. This was the snowed in airport at 3am when he had to get up to go to the bathroom and fought it because the empty, dim hallways made his heart beat faster and put him on an edge he didn’t enjoy.

“Scully?”

Another mumble and what he would describe as a weirdly purring throat noise, later, she opened one eye in his direction, “trash bags.”

Another soul awake. Aware. He took a deep breath but continued his whispering, “I’ll add it to the list.”

Finally grasping some sort of faculties, she opened the other eye, brought him into focus as best she could, “why are you in bed with me?”

“You invited me here, remember?”

It took a second to recall but she got there and the smile desperate to cross her lips showed itself at the corners of her mouth but she didn’t let it win, “oh yeah.” Pausing for deep breath, she shut her eyes again, stretching as best she could and very narrowly using him as a full-body pillow in her quest for more sleep, “why did you wake me up?”

“Because I’m an adult freaking out about the dark and infinity and weird spaces where time doesn’t seem to exist and frankly, I’m worried that we are the only two people left in the universe and that we are floating in an utter blackness void even of stars and …”

He stopped because her hand was now covering his mouth, “Mulder … I swear to you. Outside is still outside.”

Talking through her hand, “Then why do I feel so strange? This never happens when I wake up at my own place in the middle of the night.”

Knowing sleep was now officially at least a few minutes away, she removed her hand but kept her eyes shut, thinking that if sleep accidently floated by, she could catch it, “you, my friend, are caught in a ‘liminal space’”

Liminal space. He felt he should remember that from somewhere but his 2am still spiralling mind couldn’t organize, “what?”

“I will be writing this down as the day I knew something you didn’t. Remind me to play the lottery later.”

Smart-ass-ness was starkly evident this later/early in the day but he liked her so he didn’t tell her about the ‘lube’ comment, “this isn’t helpful.”

“Sorry.” Finally looking at him, eyes dilating wide in the dark, “liminal spaces are kind of like waiting areas between one thing and the next. After one point in time and space and before the other.”

He was remembering now, “where magic happens and anything is possible.”

“Or where you begin to doubt universal existence and are afraid of the dark.”

“I am not afraid of the dark.”

She really hadn’t meant it to sound like it did and in apology, she rested a finger in the dimple on his chin, “I know. I just meant … when I was a kid, I’d wake up just like you and wonder if mom and dad were still in their beds. If Missy and Bill and Charlie were going to be at breakfast the next morning or had the darkness snatched them away?”

“But I’m an adult and I know better.”

“No one knows better at 3am or whatever the hell time it is.” Figuring the best way to fix this was to show him and she struggled to sit up, she accepted an assistance shove from her Mulder, “come on. We’re going downstairs.”

Now he was just starting to feel silly and for Mulder to feel silly required quite a bit of silliness, “it’s okay. We should probably just go back to sleep.”

“No.” Taking his hand and tugging until he was standing beside her, thankful for socks against the chilly floor, “I want to show you something.”

Giving in because she was her, he followed, inaudible sigh of relief he would never admit to once the bedroom door was open and he saw that, indeed, the rest of the house still stood. Shuffling across wood floor and creeping down the stairs, avoiding, under Scully’s direction, the creaky seventh step, she took him to the couch, pushing on his chest lightly to get him to sit. Once settled, several afghans piled over their legs, he waited as long as he could before asking, “what are we doing?”

“We are learning to love liminal spaces.”

“We are?”

“Yeah.” Quiet for another moment to gather her explanation, “we are witnessing timelessness. Enjoy it.”

So he sat, hand in hers, until he mused, half to himself, “liminal spaces should be an X-File.”

“No. I’m not letting you file these away. I have fallen in love with them and don’t want them categorized and easily referenced. They are meant to be discovered by accident and left alone when done.”

Sliding somewhat down the cushions to rest his head against the back of the couch, “do these spaces make you feel better?”

Knowing the question behind the question, “this space is making me feel better right now. It was still my fault but I think I’ll have to accept it and move on.” Matching his slide, she went one better and shifted her head to lean on his shoulder, “how are you feeling?”

“Better about the universe and about liminal magic.”

“Liminal magic?”

Turning his head, he first kissed her forehead, then shifted enough to brush his lips against hers, impulsive and unassuming, “that right there was liminal magic.”

With a smile, she let her hand drift to his knee, then his thigh, squeezing before coming to a rest slightly higher than strictly friends defined, “shush.”

“Shushing now.”

&&&&&&&&&

Maggie found them prone on the couch the next morning, smushed together on something even more narrow than the bed they’d occupied earlier. Scully, true to form, using him as a pillow while he held onto her dear life, fearful even in sleep of falling to the ground and leaving her behind.

It was then that she knew her daughter’s answer of ‘I’m fine’ later on would be a genuine one and moving to the kitchen, she decided chocolate chip waffles and bacon would be the order of the day. 

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Haven (27/50)

Summary: They say Resembool is a haven, and they’re right. Lush pastures, quaint country town, farmers’ markets on Saturdays: a bucolic paradise.

But it’s more than that. Resembool is a haven for the runaways, the deserters, the people who don’t want to be found…

The Resembool community knows there’s something odd about Hohenheim, but they’re not going to let that stop them helping him out. This is Resembool after all, a place where no one has to hide and neighbours help neighbours, be they building a fence, chasing a sheep, or trying to save the country from an evil they inadvertently helped release centuries ago…

Or: A series of slices of life in an AU in which Hohenheim never leaves, and several broken state alchemists find hope and home in Resembool.

Rated: T

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Haven

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20] [21] [22] [23] [24] [25] [26] [AO3]

Summary: Someone from Roy’s past comes to Resembool looking for him, and Trisha facilitates a reunion.

Characters: Trisha, Riza, Roy

Pairing: Riza/Roy

==

Trisha has always prided her town on its ability to keep people safe, but there are occasions when she thinks that perhaps it’s a little too good at keeping people safe, perhaps to the detriment of other things in their lives. 

This is one of those moments. 

There’s a woman in the high street. She’s young and she’s distressed, and from the heavy bag that she’s got slung over her shoulder, she’s not going to be going back to wherever she came from in a hurry. 

And she’s looking for Roy. 

There are tears streaming down her face as Trisha ventures a little closer to her, after the third person has denied all knowledge of Roy being in Resembool. The town has accepted him as one of their own, however new an arrival he might be, and they’ve closed ranks to protect him. Trisha knows well why they do it. They’ve done it for her and Van often enough, and she’s thankful for it. But looking at this young woman, so forlorn and so desperate to find Roy, Trisha thinks that perhaps this is one situation where keeping Roy safe will not be good for either him or the person looking to find him. 

Trisha knows that Roy left people behind when he fled Ishval, and the names Hughes and Hawkeye have come up several times in conversation, but have always been hastily pushed to the side, as if it’s too painful to dwell on them for too long, knowing that he left them in the middle of a warzone and he has no guarantee that they’re even alive. 

“Hey.” Trisha goes over and offers the woman a clean handkerchief. “What’s your name?”

“Hawkeye. Riza Hawkeye.”

“Miss Hawkeye, I think I might be able to help you.”

“Oh thank you, thank you so much.”

Trisha leads Riza back towards her home. 

“I know that the townsfolk aren’t being very helpful. It’s not that they’re being deliberately hostile; it’s just that Resembool has always been a place of safety for people who do not want to be found, so when someone arrives looking for someone, the reaction is automatic.”

Riza nods her assent, but doesn’t say anything more, looking around her at the rolling hills and the white dots of sheep moving around over the lush grass.

“It’s a lovely place,” she says presently. “I can’t get over how fresh and peaceful it is when it’s so close to Ishval.”

“We were a lot closer to the war than you think. We didn’t see the combat, but we’ve seen more than enough of the aftermath.” Trisha sighs; that’s the reason why they have always done all that they can to help those fleeing through their town, no matter which side of the coin they belong to. In the end, all war leads to is pain and misery for everyone involved. 

“You can wait here.” Trisha gets Riza settled on the bench outside the house and brings her something to drink. “My husband’s just inside. I’ll go and speak to Roy now.”

“Thank you.”

X

Riza sips her juice and looks out over the countryside again. It’s like she’s stepped into another world. She took a train out of Eastern City three days ago and now she’s here in Resembool, in the place where rumour has placed Roy. She had known that he was here even as the townsfolk disclaimed all knowledge of him; none of them are consummate liars but they’ve got more than enough determination to make their omissions stick and close ranks against outsiders. But Roy would have been an outsider once, looking for sanctuary just like she is, and they must have accepted him enough to protect him like they are doing. Even Trisha is still wary, going to bring Roy to her instead of taking her to him, leaving the power in Roy’s hands. 

Riza hopes he’ll come. She knows that he must feel terrible about deserting in the way he did, following in the footsteps of Armstrong and Marcoh and Sherman before him, and she knows he’ll carry that guilt for the rest of his days. She knows Roy. 

But hopefully, despite that guilt and shame, he will still want to see her, even if just to see for himself that she’s ok. She likes to think that he cares about her enough for that. 

The sun is beginning to go down, and Riza becomes aware of two young faces peering at her from around the front door, two boys with golden hair and eyes.

“Hello.” There can’t be much of an age gap between them but there’s enough difference for them not to be twins, and the elder is definitely acting the elder. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Riza.”

“Hello Miss Riza. I’m Ed and this is Al. Are you waiting for Mom? She said she had to go get someone.”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” There’s a long pause. “Are you an alchemist?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Mom finds lots of alchemists. The other day she said she was thinking about starting up a home for lost alchemists.”

“How many has she found?”

“Five, if you include Dad. He wasn’t really lost, though. He’s always been here. He always says he’d be lost without Mom, though.”

Riza has to smile at the boys’ frankness and openness, especially with a stranger like herself. She has to wonder at it, considering how closed off the rest of the town were towards her, but then she realises that in their eyes, she must be safe, because their mother brought her to the house, and they trust their mother, so they implicitly trust her too. 

“Boys? Boys…”

There’s a long sigh from behind the front door and Riza gets the impression that this is not the first time Trisha’s sons have struck up conversations with newcomers.

“Boys, come inside please and leave Miss Hawkeye in peace.”

“We were being polite and making conversation!”

“I don’t mind, honestly.” It’s taking her mind off Roy and whatever conversation Trisha might be having with him at the moment. 

A man with the same distinct colouring as the boys comes out, looking apologetic. “Sorry about this. They’re too curious for their own good.”

“No we’re not!”

“Yes, you are. Now back inside.”

Riza feels suddenly bereft without them, her thoughts taking over just when she doesn’t want them to, and she looks up at Trisha’s husband, hoping he can give her some kind of reassurance. 

“Trisha won’t be too long,” he says, which isn’t exactly the reassurance that Riza was looking for, but she’ll take it nonetheless. He can’t exactly tell her that it’s all going to be all right. No one can tell her that. 

He stays in the doorway for a while, silent company but company nonetheless, and then there’s a commotion from inside the house and he rolls his eyes and goes back in, leaving Riza alone once more. She doesn’t know how long she sits there in the evening twilight, but then she hears voices coming up the hill, and she can’t sit on the bench any longer. She has to get up and look out down the path.

“Riza!”

She runs down to meet Roy, throwing her arms around him as he grabs her and holds her close, Trisha continuing up towards the house to give them space. 

“I’m sorry.” Roy is crying against her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe I left you, I’m so glad you’re ok.”

“It’s ok.” Riza strokes his hair, but she’s crying her eyes out too, the pain of not knowing where he was mixed with the relief of now knowing that he’s all right and that he’s found a safe place here in Resembool. “It’s ok. We’re here now.”

She has no idea where they will go from there, but they’ve finally found their way back to each other after so many months of fear. There’s a long road ahead, Riza knows that. They’re both broken by what they’ve seen and the things that they’ve done. They’ll both be carrying that guilt for a long time.

But now, at least, they have each other.

[anthropwashere]

our indestructible days ch 4

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3

Al time Al time

(also Mei is sick and tired of these motherfucking homunculi in these motherfucking teenagers)

=

Mei's gotten blood on the splintered ruin of his chest. Her small hands trace the rough edges of his damage with soft and hurting sounds. Alphonse lifts one hand to pass a thumb across her eyebrow, smearing the cut before it can spill into her eye.

"I'll be okay," he assures her. His body might be broken again, but that's nothing to be worried about. Pain has been an absence in him for a long time now, and here she is spilling over with it.

"Lay still!" She admonishes, then whimpers. She's small, smaller than Ed was when he was her age. She must have bones like a songbird’s; easily broken. "Y-you're going to fall apart even more if you aren't careful!"

"I'll be okay," he repeats. Maybe she'll hear him this time. "You need to get out of here. You're too hurt to fight anymore."

"So are you!"

He's not hurt, not really, and as long as the blood seal isn't damaged he'll be safe laying here until the battle's over. He's not sure if there's enough of him left for Ed to transmute without risk, but that's a concern for later. His armor rings with the furious rattle of nearby gunfire, the thunderous booming of mortars. Mei Chang is small and wholly human, and this isn't her fight at all.

"I'll be okay," he repeats again. There's nothing else he can tell her. He's always okay.

"If we're careful, Xiao Mei and I can—"

"Stop," he interrupts, not unkindly. "You're hurt and I don't have legs right now. I'm too big for you to carry."

Her dark eyes are shiny with pain but she still manages an impressive harrumph! "You doubt the strength of the Chang princess? I'll have to prove you wrong on the honor of—oh!"

"What?" She's gone rigid and breathless, hunching over him as she looks at something further off than he can strain to see. "What's wrong?"

"There... there's three of them again," she whispers. "Three homunculi."

"But—" Father's one of them, obviously. And Greed, him and Ling are out there fighting too. The third though, that can only be—

"It's definitely Pride," Mei confirms. She's slipped a hand into her sash, no doubt readying a fresh fistful of knives. Just in case. "But I can't see him anywhere. Can you?"

"No." The last place Al saw him was down in Father's throne room, a ribbon of shadow wrapped brutally tight around Ed's left arm. He strains to sit up, to get a better look, to see— "My brother—do you see him? Is he okay? Mei, please—"

"He's fine! Please don't exert yourself!" Her small hands touch his shoulder, trying to force him down again. He only knows because he happens to see her doing it in his peripheral. "Their Father attacked Edward, and your Teacher too, but the soldiers saved them both! I swear!"

Relief floods him, a tension that isn't exactly tension as he remembers it easing in him. It isn't relaxing, it isn't easing. It's like allowing himself to forget for a moment the enormous weight his small blood seal is carrying. He sinks back, ignoring the scrape and clatter of his pieces. "O-oh. Oh, thank goodness. Thank you. Where are they now?"

"Two soldiers took your Teacher elsewhere for a few minutes. She's fighting again now, and she seems to be doing fine. Edward ran toward, ah, Central Command?"

"Yeah," he confirms automatically, wondering why Ed would run away from the fight. It's not like Ed to run. Does he have a plan, maybe? Something he needs some distance for? Or a better angle? He can usually guess what Ed's thinking, but this is….

This doesn't make sense.

"I lost sight of him in the smoke." Mei hesitates, looking toward the western wing of Central Command that's still standing. "Alphonse, I'm sorry, but that's where I'm sensing Pride too."

It's an easy conclusion from there. "Oh, of course! Pride must have run from their fight, and Brother's making sure he doesn't get away!" Al's relieved laughter is nearly lost in another burst of firepower—literally, as the Colonel's taking point again, Lieutenant Hawkeye directing his attacks. Mei dips low as wind whips her braids wildly, her little hands white-knuckled on his sharp edges. The armor must be getting painfully hot with how close the Colonel's attacks have come. He desperately wishes he could get up and protect her, join in the fight again, something. But he's simply too broken now. 

It strikes him out of nowhere, how absurd everything's become. Barely a year ago his biggest concern had been getting his body and Ed's limbs back, and keeping a running list of tasty-sounding food to try once he could eat again. That all seems so long ago, now.

Mei stiffens, Xiao Mei snarling on her shoulder. "He's getting closer!"

Al doesn't have to ask who she means. Father hasn't moved from the center of the parade field, and Greed's made it clear which side of this fight he's on. "Get out of here! Before he sees you—"

Ed strides out of the thinning smoke, hands fisted at his sides and jaw stubbornly set, and the world makes sense again.

Al struggles to his elbows, wishing he could run, desperate to pull Ed into a brief but fervent hug. "Brother!"

"Look, he's fine," Ed drawls in a tone of voice that's distinctly other in a way Al couldn't describe if pressed, yet all the same dread knocks the joy clean out of him even before ink-black shadows rise, serpentine, behind Ed. When Ed looks down at them his yellow eyes are empty tunnels. Then his face shifts, the shadows twitch, and Ed's rushing to his side. "Are you crazy? He's not fine, he's in pieces! Al, hey, are you—"

One of Mei's knives appears in Ed's left shoulder like a magic trick, its pink ribbon fluttering. 

"Get away from him," she orders imperiously, on her feet with another three knives at the ready. Her face is a wax mask of pain, but her outstretched hand is steady.

Ed looks at her, not surprised but—resigned? He brings his right hand up to touch her knife, a ting of metal against metal. Belatedly, he winces. "...Jeez, Mei. You didn't have to do that."

All wrong. This is all wrong. Ed wouldn't act like this—wouldn't react like this. He'd holler hurt, curse up and down, insult Mei horribly. But he just stays kneeling, a curl of something like—like shame to his mouth. "Ed...?"

Ed's face shifts again, his right hand dropping like dead weight. Ed sneers. "Are you really so oblivious?" He reaches left-handed for Mei's knife, yanking it out without a flicker of pain on his face. Al doesn't see so much as a drop of blood before red light heals the wound like it never existed. The unmistakable crackle of a transmutation, and red light can only mean one thing. Another bizarre expression crawls across his face, settling on a far more familiar sneer. Ed's derision. Ed's disappointment. Ed's bitter laughter. "If this is a win in your book then it's no wonder your Promised Day has turned out to be such a shitshow." 

Ed's voice warps and warbles, gaining and losing an awful, malicious echo. Distantly, Al registers the familiar shapes of Teacher and Major Armstrong giving it their all against Father not so very far away. The outcome of today's battle seems, suddenly, wholly unimportant. "You...? Edward, you're—you're a homunculus?"

Ed's face softens as his hands hover over his armor. "Al—Alphonse. Hey. I'm sorry. I didn't—it wasn't like Ling, okay? Pride forced his Stone into me. I couldn't—I tried to fight him, but—" Ed takes a shivering breath, knocking his right hand's knuckles against the shrapnel of Al's chest. Ting. "Jeez. What even happened while we were down there?"

"He protected me," Mei pipes up, glaring fiercely.

Ed smiles. "Did he? I'm glad." He shivers again, shuttering his eyes. When he opens them again they've gone horribly flat, a mirror to Selim's cold cunning in all but the color, but his voice still sounds Ed-adjacent. "Can you keep an eye on him for me, Mei? There's no time to fix him now."

"I'm not sure I'd let you try even if there were," she retorts. "Not with one of those monsters inside you!"

Another shift of Ed's face, and then thick shadows splash inside Al's broken chest like waves on a beach, skirting his blood seal. He feels the barest brush of tiny claws scratching at the metal around it. It's all he can do to keep from crying out. "Foolish girl," the monster possessing Ed spits. "Do you really think so little of Edward Elric? He's fought me every step of the way. I've had to take a firm hand with his soul to get this far."

Pride gestures. Mei gasps, failing to smother it behind her bloody hands. For a moment Al thinks Pride's hurt her, sunk his shadows into her skin beyond where he can easily see, but she's not bleeding or writhing or anything like that. She's just—staring, horrified, at Ed. Al strains for a better look and feels the world stutter in terrible shock.

Ed has two legs again.

His left pant leg has been cut short, all the way up to his mid-thigh, and the entire leg is just... normal. There's a perfectly normal, flesh-and-bone leg where Al's become accustomed to seeing layered steel. There isn't even a trace of the thick scar tissue that's darkened Ed's thigh since his outfitting.

"He—he cut it off," Ed whispers. "To—stop me from—I mean, I—I kinda woke up, inside the—his Philosopher's Stone, or whatever, and he was.... I heard him and I looked out and he was… he’d killed—" Ed shudders again, gasping. Teeth split the black shadow curling at his knees, and Pride's voice echoes his. "What did you do, Pride? What did you do to them?!"

Al wants to grab hold of Ed, wants to shake sense and sanity into him again, but the shadows pooling inside his armor are circling even closer to his blood seal. Unbidden he finds himself thinking of stories he's read of sailors and pirates on the high seas, of shipwrecks and dark water and sleepless predators circling. He knows that if he moves now they'll all regret it. "E-Edward."

Ed snarls. After a tense few seconds the shadows pull back. "Sorry, sorry, I—I'm sorry." His exhale comes out loud and shaky as he drags his hands over his face. "I asked you a question, Pride." 

A pause. 

"Are you lying? If you are, I swear I'll—" 

A pause. 

"What about him? You think I'm gonna trust anything he says either?" 

A pause.

"Shut up, stop laughing. They went where?"

A final pause, and then Ed sighs heavily, glancing at the hole in the parade field they'd all come out of. "Fine. I'm holding you to that."

Did Greed and Ling ever speak like this? It's frightening, to see Ed clinging to control over his own body. Fresh explosions ring in his broken armor and Al forcibly puts his concerns aside. Ed's alive. That has to be enough, for now. "Pride?"

Ed twitches, his eyes going flat and cold. "What?"

"You—you could have killed Edward, but you didn't."

"Not for lack of trying."

How cruel. How indifferent. Al can't begin to understand this thing wearing his brother's face. He's not sure he even wants to try. "I don't think that's true. Promise me, please—"

Guttural screaming from shockingly nearby cuts him off. Dazzling red light fills his vision briefly; when it clears he catches sight of Teach and Major Armstrong again, scattered like autumn leaves. 

Ed swears, already on his feet and running off, and this time Al can't go chasing after him to make sure he doesn't do anything crazy. "There's no time! Mei, take care of Al for me!"

"Ed—! Brother!"

But Ed doesn't look back.

[suphoshi]

BURN | Bobby x Female Reader

Genre: Gangster AU, Angst/Fluff

Warnings: Deals with mature themes, explicit language, physical violence (nothing domestic), explicit language, possible PTSD triggers, + other dark themes (read with caution please!)

Word count: 17,094 (lol kill me)

Sometimes he reminded you of fire.

Not something raging or destroying like a house burning or a tree set aflame, but something you sit in front of when your toes are too cold, desperate to feel the warmth in your bones when you feel like a hollow shell. Its passion bleeds through you like a welcome home and you want to stare at its brilliance until it eventually dies out. When it does, it breaks your heart so much to see it go that you light it again, an eternal flame that you couldn’t live without. The orange hues that make your heart the happiest, make you think that the heavens have to be real because how could something be so beautiful. You reach out because you want to touch it, you need to know how it feels, if the flames are as soft as they look, but when you do the burn extends up your palm like a warning. ‘Stay far away, I’m pretty on the outside, but inside I’m waiting to destroy something as precious as you’.

A flame you could never touch. A treasure you could never hold.

Bobby held the deepest and darkest parts of you, and sometimes you wished you could hold his. He kissed your tears away when terrible things popped up behind your eyes at night, demons of a past you always tried to wish away but somehow never left, held you pressed against his chest until you felt a little less broken. He let you shine in such dazzling ways, dressed you in diamonds and silk, showed you off at parties, kept you pressed to his side like the most magnificent trophy he’d ever held. He looked at you like you were starlight (it broke your heart a little to think he never saw it before you).

It was winter when you met him. Snow clung to the leafless trees, but you loved the crisp air that came with the cold. Loved how it stole your breath away and breathed life into you at the same time. You would go on walks at night, the clearest sky ever above, stars dancing to the rotation of the earth, moon full and glimmering as if to say ‘I own this world. The sky belongs to me.’ You were feeding a stray kitten outside of your apartment building when it looked up at you with twinkling eyes. It meow ’ed and started to walk away, looking back as if you were supposed to follow, as if it was taking you home. It reminded you that you truly did feel lost, no real family or home to call your own. This cat was probably more loved than you had ever been in your entire life. So, you followed. It never strayed too far, never stopped looking back to make sure you were still there, always keeping the closest eye on you. It was funny, how this was the most wanted you had ever felt, how you never had someone who looked back for you, someone who made sure you weren’t lost.

You made it to a park beside the woods when it stopped, turning back and winding itself around your legs. You smiled and reached down, half expecting it to run away, but instead it let you lift it into your arms and scratch the top of its head while it purred. It was a comforting feeling, to know that this little being trusted you, that it felt comfortable enough to let you carry it in your arms like an old friend. You were whispering things to her (finding out shortly after, she was in fact a she) about the snow, the stars, the forest, how you would call her Yuki (you saw it on a web search just the day before when trying to name another stray cat that ended up leaving), when you heard a commotion coming from somewhere in the trees, loud thumps and branches cracking. You looked over at the heavily dense woods and held Yuki tight to your chest, unsure if it was to protect her or to protect you.

“Hello?” You called out, hoping it was just your imagination that it sounded like a fight going on. You heard muffled groans, harsh voices as you stepped closer to the tree line when a group of men ran out, shoving past you. You nearly screamed but it instead came out like a choked gasp, scared to say anything that might make them stop and hurt you. When they were gone, having passed by you without a second glance, Yuki pushed at your chest and jumped down from your arms, running into the woods. It was strange, how the attachment you had for her already made you follow.

“Yuki!” You yelled out, following close behind as she slowed near a figure on the ground. It wasn’t until you got closer and it rolled over on its own that you realized it was a person. It took hold of you, the fear the sight of his face caused, bruised and bloody, hair sweaty and sticking to his forehead. His left eye was already too swollen to open, but it didn’t really matter because he looked unconscious. The sight triggered memories inside your brain, still frames of your past flooding back as if it was yesterday, a life where you had a family, faces flashing by at an alarming rate, your mothers when your dad came home drunk and angry, your brother after school when he tried to fight anyone who looked at you wrong, your father’s after the crash. Eyes dead and empty, the same eyes you saw on your mom and brother that same night, looking into your soul like they could see right through you. Like they were accusing you of a wrong you never committed, like it was unfair they all died, and you lived.

Yuki meow ‘ed, jumping on the man’s chest and the sound snapped you out of the trance you were in, causing you to move closer until you stood just above him. He wore a black suit with a white button-down shirt that was covered in blood, the first few buttons undone so you could see the sliver chain that dipped below and down his chest. His hair was a mess, dark brown and curly, sticking to his forehead, but you could see that he was probably more put together before whatever happened with those men.

“Hey, are you okay?” Stupid. As if you couldn’t see that he was broken and bleeding in front of you. You squatted down, tucking your hair behind your ears so you could get closer, hand reaching out to touch his shoulder. He took a deep shuddering breath when you made contact and you immediately pulled away, grabbing your phone. You watched as Yuki curled up on top of him, like he was her resting place for the night. She rested her head just under his neck, and for some reason the sight made your heart ache. He looked so broken, and Yuki just wanted to make sure he wasn’t alone. Tears sprung to your eyes and you weren’t sure why, heart racing because you didn’t want to leave him alone ever. You didn’t even know him.

Your hands shook as you tried to dial the police, messing up the first few tries before you finally got it right.

“Hello? Yes, I’m with a man who’s been attacked, he needs an amb-“ You were cut off by the man grabbing your wrist and pulling you down, your hand dropping from your ear to keep you from falling on top of him. His unswollen eye was open, glaring at you when he reached across and grabbed your cell phone, ending the call.

“No police.” He mumbled out, groaning at the movement he made.

“You’re really hurt, you should go to the hospital.” You said, desperate. Yuki was readjusting herself after he inadvertently shoved her off, no concern at all for his current state.

“No. Police.” He repeated, more emphasis on his words that time, breathing haggard. His gaze was fierce, effectively shutting you up. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, too scared to stare at him for too long because his face reminded you of too many dark things. His hand remained wrapped around your wrist and you were acutely aware of the tug it had on your heart.

He hissed as he tried to pull himself up and it was instinct alone that made you grab his arm to help him. He was out of breath, spending up all of his energy in that minimal movement, yet somehow found the strength to reach into his pocket and pull out his phone, dialing a number and pressing it to his ear.

“It’s me. I have to lay low for a while. Seunghyun’s people knew I would be alone. They knew everything.” He mumbled out. You kept your hand on his arm, too scared he would fall back if you let him go (too scared you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body again). Yuki laid in his lap and you stared at her pointedly, as if she could understand the danger she might be in if he realized she was there, never worrying about the danger you might be in for doing the same thing.

“Get everything ready. When I come home, I want them to know I’m coming for them.” His face was so pale, and the moonlight hit his eyes in such a way that he looked scary. Still, you didn’t actually feel scared of him. He ended the call and shoved his phone back into his coat pocket, wiping his hand down the left side of his face, smearing blood along with it.

“Help me stand up.” He demanded suddenly, not waiting for your answer as he pushed himself off the ground. Yuki jumped off of his lap and you had to wrap your arms around his chest, a squeal falling from your lips as you tried to support his weight. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and it took all of the strength in your legs to keep the two of you upright, praying to every God there was that you wouldn’t break your ankle, you couldn’t afford it.

“You can’t walk on your own!” You shouted, annoyance and worry now overrunning your thoughts, scared of the dependence he now had on you as you could feel his knees buckling every few seconds. “How can you expect to go anywhere like this?!”

You groaned under him as you pulled an arm away, grabbing his hand that slung over your shoulder and holding onto it while your other arm remained secured around his waist.

“How far away do you live?” He breathed out and you stared up at him, blood now smeared on your sweatshirt. He looked down at you, and your breath caught in your throat. You heard the things he said on the phone. Knew logically that he was a bad person, a person who was caught up in ugly things that you needed to stay out of, but in your heart, you just wanted to help him. You felt like you needed to help him. His eyes were going in and out of focus and you knew you didn’t have much time before you would have to drag him.

“Not far, just a few minutes.” You said softly.

“Your apartment then. Let’s go there.” He replied. You were already turning to walk him before he replied. Your limbs were aching when you made it to the front of your apartment building, trying your best to move quickly so you wouldn’t draw attention. You had pulled a mask out of your pocket before you made it out of the woods, putting it on him to try and shield some of his face. He stayed quiet the entire time, saving his energy to walk, knowing that you couldn’t do it alone. When you made it into the building, Yuki trailing behind you the entire way, you led them both into the elevator and felt his legs start to give.

“Don’t, please, we’re almost there.” You pleaded, pressing the button to your floor. He found some energy in your words, straightening up a little during the ride up and walking out with you when the doors finally opened. You pressed in the code to your apartment and led him in, too tired to be embarrassed about the state of the place. It was tiny, a kitchen, a bathroom, and your bedroom/living room – still almost more than you could afford. You helped him to your bed and tried your best to sit him down carefully knowing it would hurt worse to let him fall. His arm dropped from your shoulders and you wrapped your hands around his neck, lowering him back before lifting his legs up onto the bed. After that, you fell to your knees, arms resting on the bed beside him. You took your time catching your breath before looking up at him. He was out cold, breaths even and deep, hoping that was a sign he didn’t have any broken ribs.

Yuki climbed up your bed and onto his chest where she had been, and you stared at her incredulously before walking to the kitchen, filling up a bowl with water. You found your first aid kit under the sink, an old thing you had gotten years ago when you moved in, everything in it probably expired or unnecessary for what he needed, but you hoped you might find something useful. After grabbing a washcloth and walking back towards the man on your bed, you sat down beside his head and pulled the mask off of him, dampening the rag before cleaning at the small cuts on his face. It seemed like most of the blood came from a gash above his swollen eye, finding no other major cuts around it. The entire left side of his face was a dark red, extending from his eye down to his jaw. His lip was also split, and you dabbed at it gently. Once his face was clean, you took a moment to really look at him, grateful he was unconscious. Besides the now swollen shut eye, strangely the prettiest purple and blue you had ever seen, he was handsome. Maybe the most handsome man you had ever been so close to. His jaw framed his face perfectly, squared and defined, plump lips prominent though you weren’t sure if it was because they were swollen or not. You remembered his brown eyes (well, eye) from before and wished he was able to open them both now, wish you could see his face the way it was meant to be, an anger resting over your shoulders that you hadn’t felt before, wondering how someone could harm a face so pretty.

You quickly shook yourself out of your thoughts and decided that you needed to take his shirt off, needed to find out if he was hurt anywhere else. You plucked Yuki off of his chest and moved her to lay on the other side of his head, where she quickly found a comfortable resting place on his shoulder. Unbuttoning and removing his shirt was difficult, being that he was wearing a suit jacket, but you didn’t have the heart to cut it. It looked so expensive. So, you took off his cuff links – setting them on the nightstand, undid the buttons on his sleeves and rolled him back and forth until you could get the them off. There was a deep gash on his side that looked like it was from a knife, extending from below his ribs and down to his hip accompanied by a large bruise higher up on his rib cage. You cleaned around the wound as much as you could before grabbing a stack of gauze from your first aid kit and putting pressure. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but you still taped the gauze in place, scared that he would bleed onto the sheets while he slept. You tried your best to ignore the rest of his body, but it was… difficult to say the least. He was a well-defined man, abs splaying out across his stomach like he was born with them, arms toned and strong. He looked like the kind of guy another man might envy, someone who didn’t have to try very hard to be attractive. It made you angrier knowing that he was strong enough looking to defend himself but was still hurt like this.

You pressed antibiotic cream to the small cuts on his face and his eye and moved to your dresser to find an old t-shirt you could put him in. It was surprisingly easier than expected to get on him, though it still left you out of breath, deciding he could change his own pants when he woke up. After you finished, you walked to the kitchen and put all of your supplies away, not really sure how to act now that there was a stranger in your house. You wanted to shower, his dried blood caking your nails and making you uncomfortable, but it felt strange. He could wake up any time and walk in, hurt you, murder you, steal all of your belongings. You sat on the floor beside the bed staring at his profile and thought about it for a long time before deciding you would take a short one, enough to wash your hair and clean the blood off of your hands.

After the quickest ten-minute shower of your life, you changed into your pajamas and walked out, only to find him in the same position you left him, Yuki back on his chest where she had been before you changed his shirt. The disappointment that rested on your shoulders said too much. You rolled out a blanket on the floor and laid down, mind running too quickly for you to keep up with. When the exhaustion finally let your mind rest, your eyes shut like a prison door, no temptations to open them or fear to keep you up worrying about the stranger that laid in your bed.

When morning came, he was still there, in that same position. Yuki was clawing at the door to go out, so you pulled on your jacket and shoes and took her. She was only gone for fifteen minutes and you were just about to abandon hope that she was coming back when she climbed onto the bench you were seated on and crawled into your lap. You smiled and zipped her into your jacket, scared your neighbors might complain if they saw her in the daylight, before walking back to the apartment.

It didn’t shock you this time, noting that he still hadn’t moved. You ordered food for two, set out an extra plate, expecting him to wake up any time. Fourteen hours had passed and if you hadn’t seen his chest rising, you would have thought he was dead. He slept through your entire meal. Slept through the movie you played on your laptop, slept through you crying at the ending. Slept through you talking to yourself, talking to Yuki, talking to him.

“I guess you can stay. It’s so weird, I don’t know you at all, but it’s nice to not be alone. Nice to have someone. Even a stranger. Plus, Yuki seems to like you more than me even though I’m the one who feeds her, so if you leave, I imagine she’ll leave to.” You rambled on and on about things that didn’t matter, but still found yourself eager to tell him.

“I have to work tomorrow, so I kind of hope you’re awake by then. No offense, but I don’t know if we’re close enough for me to trust you in my apartment alone. I don’t even know your name. I’ll have to take my laptop to work with me probably, it’s the only thing here worth any value.”

You laughed at the random videos you found scrolling through YouTube and eventually find yourself tired enough to lay back on your makeshift bed and sleep. Honestly, you had never felt so safe. He was a stranger who you had shared no more than fifteen words with, but at least you weren’t alone. And you weirdly trusted Yuki’s judgement, trusted that she could sense he was a good person on the inside.

You dreamt for the first time in a long time, dreamt of someone holding your hand, showing you galaxies that you never knew existed, swimming through oceans filled with stars that were close enough for you to touch. When your hand reached out to grab the brightest one, another hand beat you to it, snatching it away and you whined, looking over at the star thief. It amazed you how you could see his smile so vividly even though you had never seen it in real life. This stranger who took over your apartment now flooding your dreams and you loved how complete it made you feel in that ocean of stars.

“Give it back!” You shouted and he laughed, teasing and taunting you by holding it so close before snatching it away. He swam off, pulling your star with him, laughing like you were friends or something closer. You chased after him, but he was too fast, body growing smaller and smaller as he moved further away. Your smile faded with him, no longer finding this dream fun.

“Wait! Wait, don’t leave me!” You shouted, and the uncomfortable chill that took over your bones broke your heart, loneliness seeping into your lungs as you breathed in an ocean full of stars that you could no longer swim in.

“Come back!” You cried, trying to swim for the surface before you drowned, but it was too late, you could feel the water pulling you down as you desperately kicked, fighting your way back to the happiness you held just minutes before with your stranger who left you alone in the dark.

“Come back!” You shouted, eyes opening in the darkness of your room, breathing heavily, no oceans or stars in sight. You sat up, heart racing as you looked up at the bed, finding it empty. The disappointment you felt was almost consuming, your heart not sure how to handle the loss of someone you didn’t know, how to handle the break in your soul when you didn’t even know his name.

“Are you okay?” His voice came from the other side of your makeshift bed and you screamed, pushing your back against your bed as If you could hide from him now.

The moonlight shined in through the window illuminating him perfectly, sitting beside where your head had been.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted and he simply shrugged in response.

“I woke up to you laughing, but then you started crying.” The look of concern on his face made you nauseous. Like it implied anything besides curiosity.

You sighed, running your hands over your face. “You scared me.”

He smiled and you get to see it outside of your dreams. It’s better than you imagined, better because it’s here, and it’s real. You hated the way your heart raced for him. Hated that you already knew it was going to end up with you broken before anything even started.

���I’m sorry.” He said softly, pulling his knees up to rest his elbows on them. You shook your head and sat up on your knees, suddenly curious about his condition.

“What about you? Are you okay?” You asked, noting that his eye was a little less swollen after nearly a full day.

He pushed his lip out in thought, nodding his head. “I’m sore, but better.”

You nodded in reply, relief flowing through. “Good. I was worried.”

“Why?” He asked and it caught you off guard.

“What?” You questioned and he looked at you. You could see his defenses rising before you even tried to invade and it made your chest ache, wondering what made him so closed off to someone who wanted to help.

“Why would you be worried about me? You don’t know me.” His words sounded like they were meant to be harsh, but you weren’t hurt by them. Instead you were just as confused as he was, wishing your chest didn’t ache every time you saw the gash on his forehead, wishing you didn’t long to see his eyes every second since you found him.

“I don’t know, honestly. I was just… worried.” You whispered, running your hands through your hair.

Your reply satisfied him enough to stop asking questions and he stood up, walking to the kitchen. He rummaged through your fridge before finding the plate you had made earlier that day, putting it in the microwave to heat up. You checked the time, 3:35am, and took a deep breath to steady your nerves. He sat in the kitchen to eat, pulled out his phone and started texting and calling people like he lived there. His voice was soft sometimes and harsh others, and you wondered who you had to be to get his soft voice. You liked it the most. Weirdly, you didn’t mind his harsh voice either, your mind easing, soul settling in a way it never had.

Yuki eventually crawled into your lap, purring in your arms, so you leaned your head against the bed and ran your hand down her back, let your mind drift off to the sound of his voice. You opened your eyes sometime later; the feeling of a blanket being pulled over your shoulders. Your hooded eyes looked up and it was him, face too close to yours, close enough that you should see the shimmer in his eyes. He stared down at you for a while, like he was trying to solve the world’s most difficult puzzle, before climbing onto the bed behind you. You didn’t move even though his hand brushed beside your ear, nerve endings on fire, yet too comfortable to stay awake. You didn’t feel scared, you didn’t feel worried. You just feel so warm. And that was enough for you.

“What’s your name?” You asked with your eyes closed, almost praying he didn’t answer. If you didn’t know his name, your heart would be safer when he left, no name to cry out in the dark when he was gone.

“Bobby.” He replied. You let it fall from your lips, loving the way it felt to say aloud, prayed you would get to say it for a long time. It was all you dreamt about that night.

The next morning started out like this – You rushing to get ready for work, pulling on clothes without looking at them, combing your hair wildly, putting on lipstick and shoving it in your pocket. You remembered as you were putting on your shoes that you wanted to grab your laptop and turned back, finding Bobby sitting up in bed, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up at you before turning his attention away with a small smirk on his face.

“I won’t steal your laptop. I know it’s the only thing worth any value here.” You remembered your late night rambles to him the second he said it and wished you had time to find out what all he had heard during his supposed unconscious state, but you had no time, so you instead you ran out the front door without a word.

You hated work before, but the thought that Bobby was sitting in your apartment made it worse. You wanted to see him, talk to him, make sure he was eating. Keep him from leaving. The thoughts plagued you like nothing else, but work was important. You didn’t have any other income to support yourself, and you had no family or friends to rely on. You bartended at a place not far from your apartment, somewhere that was sketchy enough to let you work when you were only nineteen after your family died, no money to stay in college, no home to live in after the bank repossessed it. You met Sabrina, the owner of the bar, at your family’s funeral. She told you that she was a friend of your fathers and her heart seemed really genuine, took you in like her own and gave you a place to stay when you had nothing, it gave you the sense of security you desperately needed.

At first, it was okay. You made good tips because you were pretty and the men loved your innocent eyes, but after a while you realized how dark people could be. How they didn’t care if you said ‘no’ when they asked for your number or when they followed you home from work, grabbing you until you pepper sprayed them or ran.  Now you just worked because it was all you were good at; all you really knew how to do. Plus, it felt like you owed Sabrina a large debt, one that felt like it would take a lifetime to repay. She never asked for too much but made it apparent that she would be upset if you ever left. You felt stuck, torn between the life you wanted and the only person you could claim as family.

It felt like the longest shift ever, entertaining drunk men who didn’t care about anything but themselves, praying the night would end quickly. It was around 10pm when you walked to the bathroom, wanting to fix up your hair and touch up your lipstick before going home. It felt childish, the giddiness you had at the thought of seeing Bobby, excitement bubbling in your stomach like it used to when you were in middle school and had a crush on someone. You rolled your eyes at your reflection, embarrassment creeping up your neck, but still, you blotted your lips together and pinched your cheeks for some color before stepping out of the bathroom.

“Hey, y/n, leaving so soon?”

The regulars at the bar were usually easy to handle, knowing your limits and following them well, but sometimes they went too far. Miko often overstepped those boundaries, always too handsy and too bold, reaching over the counter to grab the things he wanted and whispering disgusting things in your ear that made your cheeks hot. He was in his forties, hair balding and stomach rounded from drinking every day and eating everything in sight.  It was his slurred voice in the hallway that stopped you outside of the bathroom and you immediately felt cornered, isolated away from everyone else, and somehow you felt like he knew it. His eyes glazed over in a sinister way that made your stomach sink.

“Sorry, I have to get home. I have a new cat; she’s been inside all day.” You laughed nervously, hoping to conceal your fear, but it fell off of you in waves, his eyes darkening as he pushed you back into the ladies’ room, locking the door behind him. You immediately started rummaging through your bag for your pepper spray, but he grabbed your wrists before you could find it, fingers digging marks in as he pulled them up in front of your face.

“I thought about it earlier, and we’ve never spent any quality time together. I know everyone who works here, but I don’t know you very well.” He said, voice low, the smell of alcohol wafting from him. Tears formed in your eyes as he pressed you against the sink. “How about we have a little ‘get to know each other’ session. How’s that sound?”

You fought in his grasp to no avail before lifting up your legs and kicking at him desperately, shoes barely scraping at his shins as your body was too close to do anything significant. His lips pressed to your cheek and you screamed, the only response being the back of his hand connecting with your cheek, sending you to the ground before he pounced on top of you.

“Help!” You pleaded, but no one could hear, music too loud and everyone too far away. He pressed his lips to your neck, hot and wet and everything that made your stomach turn, slamming his hand over your mouth. You bit down on his pinky, pulling your knee up to connect with his groin before he finally yelled and rolled off. Everything was a blur after that, pulling yourself off of the ground and jumping over him, running out of the bar and down the street, tears falling freely down your cheeks as everything melted together around you. You made it to your building and were half-way up the elevator when you finally felt safe. It took you too long to gather your senses, but you tried to calm yourself down, hands still shaking with fear, arms tense and the taste of blood in your mouth. The doors opened and you wiped the tears from your eyes, embarrassed that you tried to look nice for Bobby only to end up in the state you had. You combed your hands through your hair and stood outside of the apartment door for what felt like hours, trying to appear calm and cool.

You didn’t know what to do. People had reported customers at the bar before, but they just ended up with a warning in the end, or worse – the employees would end up fired, the tight knit community unforgiving. You needed the money. Needed the tips you made more than anything and you were scared to disappoint Sabrina, scared to tell her and have nothing come from it. You wanted the night to reset, wished you could go back and leave without going to the bathroom, wished you could hide from the fear that would loom over you forever. Your own stupidity broke your heart the most.

You walked into the apartment and kept your head down, pulling your shoes off, hoping for the first time since he came that Bobby wasn’t there.

“I think you need more groceries, there’s nothing here to eat.” He said from the kitchen, fridge opened as he went through everything. “Eating out every night is unhealthy.”

You walked straight to the bedroom, laughing a little and mumbling out some subpar excuse, trying your best to avoid him as you could feel the ache in your jaw. You threw your bag on the floor and went through your dresser, picking out pajamas and turning back towards the bathroom, hoping to avoid a confrontation at all costs. Things weren’t working in your favor that day, Bobby standing directly behind you as you turned around, eyes glued to yours like he knew all of your secrets when you didn’t say a word. You noted that he was wearing different clothes, wondered if he had left to get them or if he had someone bring them. Either way, he looked better in his own black t-shirt than he did in your white one, setting off a run of palpitations in your chest that you had to ignore. His eye was nearly healed, the bruise still apparent as well as the cut above his eyebrow, but the swelling was almost gone. He looked at you so fiercely, like he could hear your thoughts, causing a lump to form in your throat, eyes suddenly wet again.

His scanned your face, eyes landing on your chin when he took it in his hand, turning you away so he could inspect the bruise that was now forming on your jaw. His touch was gentle, but the anger you felt radiating off of him was anything but.

“What happened?” He asked and it was the genuine concern that flashed across his face that made you speak, telling him everything without hesitation, tears falling down your cheeks without shame. His hands dropped to his side, fists flexing every so often, especially when you told him about Miko hitting you. He never interrupted, never asked any questions. He gave you no comfort in his arms or his eyes, staring at you so intently that you wanted to hide.

When you finished, he walked out. You couldn’t follow after him, too embarrassed and ashamed to do anything but climb in the shower and try to rinse the feeling of Miko’s hands off of your wrists, rubbed the skin where his lips touched your neck until it felt raw. You wished that Bobby had pulled you in his arms and held you for the rest of the night, felt stupid as the thought crossed your mind.

When you exited the shower, you immediately got dressed, wiped the steam from the mirror so you could see your face. It looked worse than it felt. Dark purple and red that matched Bobby’s eye extending from the corner of your lip down to your jaw. You remembered the feel of Miko’s rings connecting like rocks when he slapped you and closed your eyes, the memory replaying over and over as if you could change it somehow. You shook your head and pulled your hair up, walking out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. You sat there for a long time, leftover food from a few nights before heated and sitting in front of you. Nothing tasted good, thoughts running back to Bobby’s face when he saw that you were hurt. His eyes reflecting yours, sadness settling deep inside like stone sinking in the ocean. He was gone for so long that you thought he wasn’t coming back, but just as you were standing up to go to bed, a knock came from the door. You made a mental note to give him the passcode to the apartment before you opened it, but the thought quickly left your mind.

Bobby stood there, hand gripping the back of the shirt of a man kneeled down in front of him. Blood was pouring from the man’s nose, from his mouth, both eyes black and blue, bruises peeking out from under the collar of his shirt like he was choked. It was Miko. Your hands instinctively moved to cover your mouth as you gasped, looking down at him kneeling in front of you.

“Speak.” Bobby said, nudging him with his foot.

“I’m sorry y/n, so sorry. I’ll never do it again, I’ll never come back again!” Miko cried and you looked up at Bobby. His eyes were void of any emotion and that might be the only time you were ever scared of him.

“Please let me go, I have kids at home, I promise I’ll never see you again, I’ll never do it again!” He was pleading, hands clasped together as he begged for your mercy, as if you hand any control over his life, as if you made the decisions. The thought made you sick for all of the wrong reasons.

You liked it. Liked that you had control over this person who tried to hurt you, tried to take advantage of you less than two hours before. This person who would have done worse had you not gotten free from him; the lingering feeling of his hands wrapped around your wrists becoming more apparent as you watched him beg. You wanted to see him hurt like you did, wanted to hear him cry and see him broken and bleeding. It made you nauseous, all of these new feelings you never knew you were capable of having.

“Please y/n…” You tried to feel the sincerity in his words, prayed he really did mean it, then grabbed Bobby’s hand and pulled it from his shirt, worried you were making a decision you would regret.

“Just go.” You said, watching as he hauled himself off of the ground, turning to run. Bobby grabbed his arm and turned him back, balling the front of his shirt in his fist while he pulled him close.

“If it happens again - no.” He shook his head with a humorless laugh before starting over. “If I see you again, if I hear your name across town through friends of a friend, if you touch another woman the way you did tonight,” Venom dripped from his words. “If you step within a hundred yards of her…” The air felt too cold as Bobby leaned into the other man’s ear, voice lowering to a whisper. “I’ll kill you.”

Miko’s face was white, tears pouring from his swollen eyes, fear apparent in the way he shook as Bobby shoved him away.

“I know lots of people around here.” Bobby yelled after him, watching as he ran towards the elevator. “Probably best you stay home from now on.”

You pulled on his arm, tugging him back into the apartment before people heard him shouting and came out to investigate. The door slammed shut and you turned to face him as he walked back to the kitchen, anger filling you up like a balloon ready to burst.

“What is wrong with you?! That is not how you handle things; you don’t just attack people!” You shouted and he paused as he pulled the fridge open, eyes meeting yours.

“He attacked you.” He said simply, eyes filled with hatred for the brief few seconds he looked at you. Your throat went dry. He looked away, pulling out a left-over container of rice before sitting down at the seat you had been in a half an hour before. A few minutes later, he was shoveling it into his mouth while scrolling through his phone, as if nothing had happened. It was true. Miko did something bad and he should be punished for it. Bobby fixed the problem, did more than you were willing to. So why were you upset?

You walked to your spot on the floor and sat down, staring at the wall across from you, heart racing for a thousand reasons. Bobby didn’t finish for a long time, eating everything and then cleaning the dishes, but he eventually walked over, squatting down to eye level with you. He saw the tears in your eyes, reaching his hand out to wipe one away as it rolled down your cheek, the lingering feeling of his fingers lasting longer than Miko’s did.

“You sleep in the bed, I’ll sleep here.” He said without asking, pulling the blanket away and waiting for you to move. You stood up and climbed onto the mattress, pulling the comforter up over your shoulders. You faced away from him, forced your eyes shut while you tried to keep every thought of him out, tried not to see the concern in his eyes replay like your favorite movie on the back of your eyelids. You prayed your heart would stop racing every time you thought of him and hoped that maybe it wasn’t all true. That maybe he wasn’t a bad person. The memory of Miko’s face brought you back to the reality you wished you could deny.

You woke up sometime in the middle of the night, nightmares forcing you awake. Your body was facing back towards the floor, the opposite of how you fell asleep, arm hanging off the edge of the bed. You didn’t notice it right away, but your hand was clasped inside of Bobby’s, his eyes remaining closed while gentle snores flowed from him. Your breath caught in your throat, the feel of his calloused fingers threaded through yours taking over all of your senses, making your heart speed up like you could die if you touched him for too long. You tried to pull away, but he gripped you tighter, not letting go.

“The only time you stopped crying was when I grabbed your hand. Go back to sleep.” He mumbled; eyes still closed. The sound of his voice gave you chills, and your cheeks felt too hot to bear, but your eyes closed anyways. You bit your lip to keep from panicking, pretended everything was okay, counted to one hundred over and over again until you could finally breathe normal.

In the morning, you had to pry your fingers free from his so you could go to the bathroom and get ready for work. When you came out, he was still asleep, sun shining on his face. His hair was longer, hanging in his eyes, the swelling of his left eye completely gone, and the bruising changed to a yellow/brown color. His lips were parted slightly, soft huffs of air coming out with each exhale, making you smile. You stared at him for as long as you could before gathering your things and walking out the door.

The days go on just like that. Bobby stayed in your apartment mostly, talked on the phone a lot during the day, watched you get ready for work. After the incident with Miko, he put his number in your phone and made you call every night when you were finished, so he could walk you out. Two and a half weeks passed by without you ever questioning his presence and you were too scared to ask him when he would be leaving (never really wanting him to). Instead you just enjoyed his presence. Appreciated that he was there.

“I think Yuki really does like me more than you.” He said one day, out of the blue while you washed the dishes.

“Hey!” You whined, turning back to face him. He was laying on your bed, Yuki curled up in her favorite place on top of him, him petting her softly while he smiled at her. Your heart constricted and you had to tear yourself away from the sight, scared you might fall for him over something that small. It would be stupid to fall anyways, this man you barely knew enrapturing your heart like it only ever belonged to him.

You found yourself scrubbing the same dish for five minutes, the thoughts rolling around in your head like a storm cloud when you felt him behind you. His arm snaked around yours, grabbing the dish you were cleaning and pulling it out.

“I think it’s clean.” He said softly, setting the dish on your drying rack, laughing to himself while peeking around to see you. You couldn’t help but stare up at him, remembering the day you found him in the woods, leading him to your apartment, cleaning the blood off of his face. He was absolutely the most handsome man you had ever seen. His eyes were brilliant, and they shined when he smiled, when he laughed, when he was yelling at someone on the phone. Now they were shining at you and you couldn’t help but lean up and press your lips to his. It was almost involuntary, like your body would have just dissipated to nothing if you didn’t do it. You pulled your other hand out of the water and rested it on his neck, fell for him like you had never fallen for anything before.

When he rested his hand on your shoulder, you expected him to push you away. He turned your body to fully face him, pressing your back against the counter, hands on your cheeks while his lips pressed against yours more urgently. You gripped the counter behind you, not sure why you could feel tears in your eyes when you were anything but sad. His hands left your cheeks to grab your arms, wrapping them around his waist before he pulled them back up to your neck. He touched you like you would break, but his lips; oh, his lips… They melted into yours like wax, tongues brushing against each other, kissing you like he could never get enough. You gripped his shirt like he would disappear if you didn’t hold him there, felt like it would all be a big dream that faded away the second you opened your eyes.

He walked you to the bed, sat down and pulled you into his lap, brushed the hair out of your face with the rough pads of his fingers that you loved so much, and you tried to remember that life could go on without him. Tried to remember that someday he would go, and you’d be alone again, and it would be okay (wouldn’t it?). Found it hard to convince yourself of that the more you fell for the stability he gave you, the stability you didn’t realize you had craved your entire life. You woke up every day to his soft snoring, got out of the shower and knew he would still be there after you got dressed, brought home dinner every night, always making sure there was enough for two. It was a sense of security that settled so deep in your bones that you didn’t realize how far gone you were. The way his eyes watched you put on your makeup, the way he held your hand while you slept because it was the only way you could dream beautiful things. The only way you could dream at all.

“Please don’t leave.” You mumbled absentmindedly as he moved to kiss you again, halting at your words. Your heart always spoke before your mind could think to stop you. His eyes went hard, looking up at you like you broke a rule, like you opened a door you shouldn’t have, but he didn’t move. Didn’t push you away.

“I don’t care what happens,” you continued, breathing uneven and urgent, tears filling your eyes again. “I don’t care if you’re a bad person, I just need you.”

He stared at you for a few seconds before letting out a shaky breath, head turning away. A chuckle passed his lips soon after and he shook his head a little, pulling his hands up to wrap around your elbows.

Your hands found their way to his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. Forcing him to see the tears that ran down your cheeks, tears he had a part in.

“I’m not asking you to love me. Just, please…” You let out a shaky breath of your own, sadness ripping through you like a tornado, forehead crinkling up as your tears fell harder. “Please don’t leave me alone again.”

You watched him soften at your words, saw for the briefest moment the darkness he kept hidden from everyone, prayed that someday you’d get to help him heal.

‘So stupid…” He mumbled before pressing his lips back to yours, and you didn’t hold back. You gave him every piece of you. You fell into his flames and only wished you could burn, because as long as it was him, you would learn to love the scars he would leave. You would love everything for him.

--

It was hard at first, loving Bobby. He didn’t make it easy, never let you know how he was feeling. Only ever wanted to laugh with you, never wanted to show you a weaker side. When he had to leave after a full three weeks had passed, time to return home to work, he wasn’t sentimental about it. Didn’t care to acknowledge your feelings much at all.

“I’ll pick you up after work, so don’t leave until I get there.” He said sternly, ignoring the tears in your eyes. You sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the floor, fear gripping you at the thought that he wouldn’t be there hold your hand that night so you could dream. He gathered the small things he had delivered to the house, throwing them all in a duffle bag haphazardly. The silence weighed on you like cement, pouring over your limbs with such ferocity that you never wanted to get up again.

He squatted down in front of you after a while and leaned his arms on your knees, looking up at you with such sweet eyes that you wanted to hit him.

“You cry too much.” He said softly, resting his chin down onto his wrists, making his lips pout up at you.

“Stop making me cry all of the time then.” You complained, staring back at him. He smiled and leaned up, pressing his lips to yours. It was the sweetest thing, soft and gentle, pushing all of the sorrows you held to the back of your mind, every sadness cured by his lips and those puppy dog eyes he stared up at you with when he pulled away. He pressed another chaste kiss to your lips when he stood up and you smiled a little, enough to bring him some comfort as he walked towards the door.

“I’ll see you tonight.” He said, and just the thought of it made your heart race.

You prayed through your entire shift, prayed he wouldn’t lie, prayed he would really be there when you walked out that night. The way your heart leapt and fell at every car that passed while you stood outside made you nauseous, a sick you thought would only be cured by the sight of his smile. You waited for twenty minutes before turning to storm away, tired of standing in the cold, anger clouding your vision as you thought of all of the things you would say when you saw him next. It was just as you were pulling your phone out of your pocket that you noticed him a few feet away, leaning against the building you just came out of. He looked different, no longer sporting the t-shirt and sweats you always got to see, instead sporting a navy-blue suit, white t-shirt underneath, silver chain hanging the same place it always did. His hair was gelled back, a shade of class washing over him that you never knew was possible.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted, storming up to him and punching his shoulder.

“I was waiting for you! You seemed so busy watching traffic that I thought you might be waiting for someone else.” He said laughing, hands held up in defense. You hit him again, one more time for good measure before storming away, walking towards your building. He ran up behind you, lifting you up into the air and your laughter fell involuntarily from your lips as he spun you around and around. When your feet hit the sidewalk, you grabbed his arm, shaking the dizziness out of your eyes. He led you the rest of the way home and asked about your day, let you talk forever about the stupid things you had to deal with as if you were his favorite podcast to tune into, diligently listening and never interrupting.

When the tables turned and you asked about his day, he was short, never sharing more than a simple ‘it was okay, nothing special’. You hated how closed off he could be. Hated that he wouldn’t talk to you about everything the way you would talk with him.

“Do you ever get scared?” You asked and he looked at you.

“Scared of what?” He retorted and you tilted your head, curiosity taking over your thoughts.

“Scared of your life. The things you do. Aren’t you ever scared?” The words seemed to hit him in the same way they did when you had said you were worried about him weeks before. He shut down, fake smile filling up his cheeks, eyes empty as he chuckled lightly.

“No, I’m not scared.”

It broke your heart.

He walked you into your building, rode the elevator up to your floor in silence, a different person than the one who lifted you into the sky just a while before.

“Can you stay a while?” You asked, pressing in the code to your door and pushing it open. He didn’t enter behind you and you assumed that was his answer as you turned back.

“I can’t. I have some work I need to get home and finish.” He said with no regret in his eyes, so unemotional that your heart sunk at the thought of having to say goodbye.

Yuki was at his feet seconds later, pressed against his legs like he was her human magnet. You rolled your eyes as he lifted her into his arms, pressing kisses to her face and petting her.

“I’ll take her outside, is that okay?” he asked, and you nodded, jealousy ringing through your bones as you turned back to walk inside, an air of disappointment hanging around you. He grabbed your hand as it fell from the door and pulled you into his chest, Yuki now waiting beside his feet. His free hand wrapped around the back of your neck and pulled your lips to his, the taste of his tongue sweet like wine. It took you a little longer than him to react, but eventually, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you could, never really feeling like you could get enough.

When he pulled away, you whined, a smile forming on his cheeks instantly at the sound.

“Stop crying all of the time.” He said, pressing a kiss to your nose before reaching down for Yuki and walking away. You let the door shut behind him, sighing as you walked to your dresser and grabbed random clothes to sleep in.

You waited for him to come back before getting in the shower, scared he would let Yuki in and leave without a word. Fifteen minutes passed before your phone was buzzing beside you.

“Where’d you go?” You asked, curious about why he was calling.

“Every time I set her down, she cries for me to pick her up. I don’t think she has to go to the bathroom. Maybe she’s sick?” he said, and you sighed, defeat settling in your chest.

“She wants to go home with you. Just take her.” You huffed out, annoyance apparent in your tone.

“Are you sure?” He asked and you groaned, standing up from the bed.

“Yes, she always liked you the most, I’m sure she’d just cry all night anyways if you weren’t here.” You said and walked into the bathroom, ready for the lonely night ahead without either of them.

He sighed on the other end. “Will you be okay?” He asked and you turned on the shower, letting it warm up.

“It’s nothing I’m not already used to.” You huffed out before hanging up. It was childish honestly, no real reason to be angry. You weren’t actually mad at all; you had just been so spoiled with his company that the thought of being alone upset you. You finished your shower after some time, drying yourself off before getting dressed and leaving the bathroom.

The first thing that surprised you was Yuki, walking in front of you, brushing her tail against your leg. The second was the sight of Bobby asleep in your bed, suit jacket hanging off of your kitchen chair, enough room beside him for you. You smiled, ringing your hair out before walking closer, climbing under the covers beside him. He immediately rolled over, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you into his chest.

“This is the last night. I mean it.” He mumbled and you smiled into him, the smell of his cologne intoxicating you in a way that alcohol never had, a drug you never wanted to get tired of. You dreamt of a field full of roses that night, all planted by Bobby just for you; his smile and laugh filling your ears like the greatest song you had ever heard. You played it on repeat until the sun came up.

--

Bobby was weak for you in so many ways, never told you ‘no’, never held you back from doing the things you wanted.

After a month and some odd weeks, you found yourself staying at his house more nights than he agreed to. He was desperate to keep you away from all of his darkness, told you before that he didn’t want you involved in his personal business, but you wanted every piece of him; craved it more than anything. He needed to be home so often that it was only logical you stayed with him, but in your heart, you knew it was more than that. You wanted to know him, to know the sides of him he never showed.

At first, you didn’t see it. He was always making you laugh, kissing your tears away when you were sad, holding you until you fell asleep every night.

He took you to small parties first, events where there would only be people that he trusted, people he knew wouldn’t lay a finger on you, but eventually he took you other places. Places that were dangerous, where Donghyuk and Junhoe, the guards he trusted the most, had to follow close behind, ready for anything that might happen. You loved the thrill you got being the girl Bobby chose, loved the way people stared and wondered who you were. Loved that you finally felt like someone people wanted to be, wanted to have. It was exhilarating, dressing in the beautiful gowns that Bobby bought you, expensive diamonds dripping down your neck, hanging from your ears. It was a life you never knew you could love, but you loved it even more than you had expected because Bobby was there.

Every turn you took, you got to see his shining eyes that made your heart swell up three sizes, made your chest ache in a way that you would never feel for anyone but him. He was the cold winter chill you craved at night, stealing your breath and breathing life into you at the same time.

When things got dangerous, Bobby grew quiet. Distant. He made you stay in the house, wouldn’t let you go to work.

“I can’t stay here forever Bobby; Sabrina has texted me for the past three nights that she needs me there. I have to go.” You complained while he paced the room, stress apparent in his tense shoulders and the furl in his eyebrows, jaw clenching over and over again. He hated this argument. Hated that you pushed so far into his personal space, but now you wanted freedom. Hated that you had become too important to let out of his sight, as if he could just sit at home and wait for you, thinking about all of the people who wanted you hurt because of him.

“This is why I tried to keep you away.” He mumbled, running his hands up and down his face. He stopped pacing and turned to you; gaze firmly fixed on the floor. “I told you that I needed to keep you away, but you just kept pushing, kept taking it further and further.”

You climbed off of the bed and walked up to him, taking his face in your hands. You tilted his head up some so that his eyes met yours and gave him a small smile.

“You cry too much.” You joked and he groaned, grabbing your wrists and pulling your arms around him in a hug. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around your waist, the gesture making your heart feel like it would burst. You combed your hand through the hair on the back of his neck and smiled against him.

“Can’t you just stay here forever? Stop trying to leave.” He mumbled sweetly into your neck, the smile on your cheeks growing five times larger. You pulled away and fell in love with the worry on his face, fell in love with the neediness in his voice.

“When did you get so cute?” You asked and he rolled his eyes, a small sigh falling from his lips. You leaned up on your tippy toes and kissed him once before pulling away, loving the way he peered down at you like you won the battle even though you barely had to fight. You kissed him one more time before walking across the room and grabbing your bag.

“I’ll text you as soon as I get there and you can pick me up whenever I’m finished at 2, okay?”

You turned back and he shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding a few times in agreement. You smiled, waving at him before walking out.

Junhoe stood at the front door, but you told him you would get a taxi, certain that if you let him drive, Bobby would make him stay and keep an eye on you. You didn’t need them to stress so much, didn’t need the stress yourself. So, you went to work alone.

While Sabrina was the closest thing you had to family, you didn’t see her very often. She hardly came to the bar unless there was a special reason, so when you saw her that night, arm attached to a man, you knew something was up.

“Y/n! I want you to meet my boyfriend!” She shouted and you smiled, the sound of her voice something you weren’t sure if you missed, but still giving you a sense of comfort that you enjoyed. Sabrina was beautiful for her age, tall with tanned skin, hair dark and long, signature bright red lipstick pasted on her lips as it always was. You had wondered when you first met her why she wasn’t married, but never pried. She complained often about how no man was good enough for her, no man was good enough for life in general, but it was apparent that her mind had changed.

The man stood beside her was handsome, tall and tan mirroring her perfectly, hair black and gelled back exposing the defining features of his face. His black suit was tailored perfectly, clinging to his broad shoulders in all of the right ways, white button up clasped all of the way to his neck.

You smiled at him politely and nodded your head, sticking your hand out to shake. He took it in his at the same time she said his name.

“This is Seunghyun!” The happiness in her voice was drowned out by the alarms going off in your head. You remembered the name, falling from Bobby’s bloody lips months ago in the woods; remembered him mentioning it several times after, always in conversations filled with malice and anger. Your blood ran cold as your eyes met his and it was in the way he squeezed your hand as you tried to pull away that told you he knew; he knew who you were. Your knees shook at the way evil danced in his eyes and it took everything in you to nod at him again, a fake smile pulling your cheeks up.

Sabrina remained oblivious to the tension, not caring that the atmosphere had changed the second she mentioned his name.

“Isn’t he so handsome, y/n?! Make us some drinks, we’re celebrating!” She squealed, and you were finally able to pull your hand away, immediately turning to grab some glasses. Your heart was racing, filled with fear and anxiety. You poured out the drinks she requested while she went on and on about how they wanted to get married as soon as possible, wanted to have kids. It was hard to ignore the feeling of Seunghyun’s eyes on the back of your neck, hair raising at the thought that he was planning something to hurt Bobby. Why else would he be there?

You turned and set the drinks in front of them before excusing yourself, cell phone in hand. You were just about to press dial on Bobby’s number, hand resting on the restroom door when a hand grabbed your wrist, whipping you back around. Seunghyun’s eyes looked even darker in the dim light of the hallway as he pulled your phone from your hand. He smiled a little at the sight of Bobby’s name before locking it the screen and reaching behind you, stuffing it in the back pocket of your jeans.

“We obviously have business to take care of. Let’s talk somewhere more private.” He said, pulling you out the back exit. Winter was coming to an end, air warm enough to go without a jacket, but goosebumps ran up and down your arms despite that. His grip never left your wrist, shoving you up against the brick wall of the bar.

“This can go one of two ways. You can tell me Bobby’s plans or things…” He ran a finger down your cheek, standing much too close for your comfort. “Can get ugly.”

You took a deep breath and tried to steady your nerves, fear gripping you like a cobra.

“I- I don’t know anything. He never talks about that stuff in front of me.” It came out too shaky, like you were lying. His grip on your wrist tightened and you yelped, trying to twist away from him, but he slammed you back against the cement even harder, free hand snaking into your hair and tightening. He pushed you to the ground, hair pulling so you would look up at him while tears fell down your face.

“You don’t know anything?” He retorted, and you shook your head, begging for him to let you go.

“I swear, I don’t know anything, I don’t! Please let me go, I promise I don’t know anything!”

He hummed in reply, looking around as if he was thinking of what to do. It was a few minutes later when his grip loosened, letting you collapse on your hands and knees. You quickly scrambled away from him, back pressing against the wall as you stood up. He dusted his hands off on his pants and smoothed out his hair.

“You’re the closest person to him, yet you don’t know anything?” He added with a chuckle and you didn’t speak. “Must not be that close.”

The last part was a mumble and his eyes met yours again. “Still, I’m keeping you close. Don’t let me find out you’re lying to me. I would hate to break Sabrina’s heart, she’s pretty fond of you.”

He straightened out his suit before walking back inside. You sank to the ground, burying your face in your hands. The sound of his voice echoed around in your mind and it terrified you, all of your senses in overdrive. You could hear Bobby’s voice, telling you not to leave, trying to push you away, could see his face when Miko hit you, the image replaying over and over again, his eyes empty but voice filled with insane anger. He tried to make you stay home, begged you to stay. He would think it was his fault and you wanted to vomit at the thought, overwhelming concern filling you up quicker than before, and there was another problem. Seunghyun was dating Sabrina. You weren’t sure if he had any real feelings for her, if he had only used her to get close to you, but you were sure of her feelings for him.

The thoughts flew through your mind too fast, you could breathe, couldn’t see a way out, felt like the world was closing in around you until you opened your eyes and found that it wasn’t. You took a few deep breaths, pulling yourself off of the ground and wiping the tears from your face. After walking back inside, you went straight back to work, letting Sabrina ramble on and on about her new-found love, ignored the glares from Seunghyun. Tried your best to let the numbness wash over you for the night.

Sabrina’s arms wrapped around you before you left, telling her you had to leave early to feed Yuki.

“Please come around more. I know I don’t see you a lot, but I love you and I need you. More than anyone.” Alcohol fueled her words, but tears still filled your eyes at the sentiment. “Not just because I need employees, but because… you’re like a little sister to me.”

You let her hug you for a few more seconds before pulling away. “I’ll call you. I promise.” You said softly, quickly walking out before she could see your tears.

You took a taxi home, leaving earlier than Bobby would have expected, planning on showing up before he left to avoid him find out about Seunghyun. You stood outside of the house for a while, calming your nerves and trying your best to appear normal. It was just as you were about to push the door open that Bobby walked out.

“Oh,” surprise written on his face when he saw you standing there.  “You told me to pick you up, what happened?”

You stared at him blankly and had the hardest time keeping it together. You wanted to melt into his arms, let him kiss away your tears, wanted him to hold you while you told him everything. Instead you smiled, the fake expression coming to you more naturally than expected.

“I got off early so I wanted to surprise you.” You lied, wrapping your arms around his waist. Your head was buzzing with anxiousness, resting your chin on his chest while he tilted his head, looking down at you quizzically. You worried if he could read your thoughts, if he could see the fear hidden behind your smile, but after a few seconds he wrapped his arms around your neck and pressed his lips to yours. The smile that raised on his cheeks was enough to settle some of your anxiety and you held him tighter.

“Let’s go get food.” He said and you were grateful. Grateful that you were able to keep this secret, grateful that you could go to bed later that night with Bobby smiling and joking, holding you in his arms with the same warmth and tenderness that always brought tears to your eyes. He kissed all of the worries you couldn’t tell him about away and your heart loved him more then than you ever expected it could. You never wanted to see sadness or anger in him, not over you. So, you held it in, kept your fear to yourself, prayed every night that you could avoid it, prayed that Bobby would never stop smiling at you.

--

Seunghyun kept his distance at first, never put his hands on you or pushed you for information. He seemed to be convinced that Bobby didn’t really care about you, and while the thought stung, you knew it wasn’t true, so you ignored it. Sabrina was by his side every night, and since the first meeting you had with him, you refused to leave from behind the bar while he was there. Bobby never found out. You kept him at a distance from your work, finding any excuse you could to keep him from coming to pick you up. He hated it initially, but eventually he seemed to accept that you would be fine taking a taxi home. Life seemed fairly normal for a while, like things would actually be okay.

It was a month later when you were getting ready to leave work that everything came crashing down. All customers had gone for the night as you stacked the last pair of chairs on a table, excited to go home, eat dinner and watch a movie with Bobby. It had been a long night, a night that you weren’t prepared to deal with Seunghyun walking through the front door, obvious distress written on his face. There was another man with him, blood running down his nose while Seunghyun sported a black eye and bloody lip. The anger that seethed off of the two of them had you standing up straight, backing away immediately.

“You knew, didn’t you?” He accused roughly, and the air around you froze at the sight of his dark eyes. You shook your head instinctively, but he didn’t listen, lunging at you and wrapping his hands around your neck. You fell to the ground, gasping as he squeezed tighter and tighter, tears choking you in the same way Seunghyun was. You were clawing at him, kicking your legs, not connecting with anything as desperation poured in your stomach. “You fucking knew!” He screamed.

You shook your head, gasping for air, eyes blurring when you couldn’t bring anything in. The pressure his fingers had around your throat, squeezing without hesitance, eyes raging, it made your body shake with fear.

“I didn’t-“ You tried to force the words out as black spots clouded your vision. He pulled his hands away as everything went dark and you took in a deep breath, rolling on your side as you clutched your chest, coughing spasmodically.

“He took out half of my men. Half of my fucking men! I’ll fucking kill him!”

He wasn’t screaming at you, turned around and throwing chairs, flipping tables. You tried to pull yourself off of the ground, hands shaking with adrenalin as he turned back towards you. When his eyes met yours, you turned to run towards the exit, feet not quick enough for his reaction. His hands gripped your hair, throwing you back to the ground. You screamed and his leg swung back, kicking you in the ribs once before rearing back and kicking you again and again. The oxygen that filled your lungs seconds before was gone, and you swore you felt something crack, no longer counting the blows you felt in your ribs. Your eyes went blurry for a few seconds, pain shooting through you like lightning.

“I swear I didn’t know; I swear!” You gasped out, hands gripping your left side as he stepped back.

He stared down at you like a lion hunting its prey. You had never felt so vulnerable, like he could kill you any second, the mania in his eyes terrifying you in a way nothing ever had. It was funny how the only thing that flashed through you mind was two nights before when Yuki threw a hairball up on Bobby’s pillow. He was so angry, yelling and cleaning it at the same time, screaming about how he was supposed to be her favorite. Ten minutes later, they were curled up in bed together, sleeping. Love pumped through your veins like the mechanisms of your heart worked only for him.

Seunghyun chuckled, squatting down in front of you. You flinched back as his hand reached out to grab your chin, turning your head up towards him. He was quiet for a long time, studying your expression.

“He really doesn’t tell you anything?”

You shook your head ‘no’ with tears in your eyes, too scared to speak, scared he would hurt you again; the pain you felt already too much to bear. The silence extended on for eons in your mind before he finally nodded and stood up.

“I guess we’ll see how much he cares when you show up like that.” He lit a cigarette and took a deep inhale of it before walking out with his partner, not saying another word.

It took you close to an hour to pull yourself off of the floor, ribs cramping like torture every time you took too deep of a breath. You locked the doors to the bar and walked to the bathroom, every step a challenge. Your face was tear soaked but otherwise free from marks, however deep red/purple bruises trailed along your neck, the tactile memory of Seunghyun’s hands causing your stomach to ache. You splashed cool water on your face, wiping away the ruined mascara that dripped down your cheeks in trails, before you lifted up your shirt. You could feel the ache inside, knowing the bruise would be bad, already appearing over your entire ribcage. Your lips trembled at the site, tears forming as another sharp pain took your breath away, causing you to lean over the sink for some stability.

Another thirty minutes had passed before you pulled out your phone and texted Bobby that you would be home late, but he responded just as quickly.

From; Bobby [02:48am]

Too late, I just pulled up

Your heart sped up, not bothering with a reply as you stuffed the phone back in your pocket. You stood up straight and practiced taking some deep breaths, fighting off every wave of pain and nausea that came in response. It took some time, but eventually you thought you could pull it off, thought you could trick both yourself and Bobby that everything would be okay. You grabbed your jacket from the front and pulled it over your arms, zipping it up all of the way so it covered your neck.

When the fresh spring air greeted you as you walked outside, you were met with the sight of Bobby leaned against his car on the street. He smiled as soon as he saw you, putting your heart at ease for the first and probably last time that night. Walking was simple, painful, but easier than breathing.

“What took you so long?!” He asked, happier than usual. You stopped in front of him and waited for him to move from the passenger door so you could get in, a smile forming on your lips.

“I don’t feel very good.” You lied, hoping the way you felt now could pass as an illness to his eyes. Concern flashed over his features as he opened your door and you slid past him, getting in as nonchalantly as you could. He slid into the driver’s seat moments later and you ignored the looks of worry he threw at you while he questioned what was wrong.

“I just have a stomachache, don’t worry.” You mumbled out, closing your eyes. That kept him quiet, hoping to let you rest some on the ride home. Every bump and turn brought tears to you, bile burning in the back of your throat. It felt like the longest ride home you had ever taken.

When he pulled up to the house, you prepared yourself for the pain of getting out, Bobby rushing to your side to help. He took your hand and pulled you up, which was the task you were most worried for. It wasn’t as bad as you expected with him taking most of your weight to help you up. You walked inside fairly normal after, steps too slow, drawing Bobby’s attention even more. Making it to the bedroom felt like the biggest victory, throwing your bag on the ground just inside the door like you were carrying a fifty-pound weight.

“Should I make you something? Are you hungry?” He asked and you shook your head, just wanting to sit down. You walked to the bed and he helped you, pulling your shoes off and setting them on the floor.

The adrenalin had worn out of your system long before, exhaustion rattling in your bones after everything you had been through, mind too tired to stop him from helping. He was grabbing the zipper on your jacket before time finally caught up with you. You grabbed his hands as they started to pull it down, desperation bleeding out in your fingertips.

“Don’t!” you said wide eyed, fear clutching your chest, ribs spasming with the deep inhale you took in. You let go of one of his hands to clutch your side and his eyes were scanning you, gauging the situation.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He said, watching as the tears now fell down your cheeks, pain from crying only making the pain worse. “y/n, what happened?”

You looked up at him, pleading with your eyes, ‘please let it go’.

His gaze hardened as he brushed your hands away, unzipping the jacket. The bruises had gotten worse over on hour, covering the sides of your neck in the pattern of a hand. You couldn’t look at Bobby’s face, couldn’t see anything through the tears that poured down your cheeks. When he stepped away from you, hands falling to his sides, you stood up, hand clutching your ribs. He hesitated before stepping closer, only to pull up your shirt, revealing the bruise splayed across your ribs. You quickly moved his hand away (not near quick enough), pulling your shirt back down.

He looked sick, the palest you had ever seen him, tears filling his eyes as you grabbed his face.

“Bobby, it’s fine, really. I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” He shoved your hands away and you shook as sobs broke through, fear masking the pain you felt moments before.

“Who did that?” He asked, too quiet, eyes filled with disgust and betrayal. You shook your head, not sure how to speak, how to tell him the secrets you kept. “Who the fuck did it, y/n?! Tell me!”

He was screaming and you covered your face with your hands, wishing you could take it all back. You told him everything. Told him about the first night Seunghyun came into the bar with Sabrina, how he threatened you, how you didn’t want to worry him.

“He doesn’t know, Bobby, he doesn’t think we’re that close. He won’t hurt me again, it’s okay.” You cried out and he wouldn’t make eye contact. Wouldn’t look at you at all. He let you finish talking before nodding his head, those same emotionless eyes you saw the night Miko hit you present.

He brushed past you to leave and you tried to grab his arm, but he shook you off.

“Bobby, wait!” You cried after him as he walked down the stairs. You followed close behind, ignoring the pain in your lungs so you could keep up.

“Donghyuk!” He yelled, the person in question appearing in front of him within seconds. “Get her things and take her home.”

He said it so simply that you didn’t comprehend it at first, but once the words mulled over in your mind, you were frantic.

“Bobby, stop!” You yelled, hand gripping his arm. He whipped towards you, pulling out of your grasp, all of his anger flurrying behind the eyes that were now directed at you.

“Don’t ever come back here, do you hear me?” He seethed and you shook your head, ready to fall to the floor, beg him to let you stay. “I told you it wasn’t safe, told you that you needed to stay out of it, but you didn’t listen. And you lied to me.”

You tried to grab for him again, but he stepped away, turning back to Donghyuk once more. “Take her home now.”

He shoved past you, ripping your hands off of him when you grabbed his shirt, ignoring the way you stumbled back and hit the counter. He didn’t look back when you screamed his name, didn’t look back as you tried to pull yourself from the hold Donghyuk took on your arm. He didn’t look back at all. Everything felt broken, dark and miserable, the uncomfortable feeling of loneliness seeping through your skin, clinging to your bones as you cried in the car after Donghyuk forced you in and buckled your seatbelt. He threw a bag of things he found throughout the house that were yours in the trunk and set Yuki on your lap.

When you made it to your apartment building, he had to practically carry you up, pain soaking through your ribs and making it even harder to breathe after all of the useless effort you put into screaming Bobby’s name, begging him to let you stay.

“You should go to the hospital tomorrow. Take two of these pills before you sleep and again in the morning.”

Donghyuk didn’t walk inside of the apartment, instead set your belongings just inside the door before thrusting a plastic bag filled with pills into your hands without so much as a goodbye before leaving. It was cold inside, colder now that it was just you and Yuki, the memory of Bobby sleeping on your mattress bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. You poured a glass of water and took two pills from the bag, swallowing without a worry of what they were, hoping they would stop the world from spinning. You walked to the bed and sat down, staring into the darkness, wondering how you got there. How you could lie to Bobby for months and expect him to forgive you.

The sound of Yuki meowing beside the door, waiting as if he would walk in any second, made you bury your face in your hands, head pounding.

“He’s not coming Yuki.” You said softly, but she wouldn’t stop, her meowing constant, the silence that followed each reminding you of how alone you truly were, wishing you could drown in the sobs that were now choking you.

“Yuki please, please stop, he isn’t coming back.” You cried, hands covering your ears. “He isn’t coming back!”

You were shaking, wishing it would all end, begging her to stop crying for someone who was gone, someone who didn’t want her anymore. “Please, please stop!” Chest aching as your heart hammered wildly at the thought of a future without Bobby’s smiles, without his eyes, without his kisses. Thought about how you would rather die than never feel his love again.

It was hours later when you were finally able to sleep, no dreams of gentle kisses or shining eyes coming to you, no nightmares of the dark because you were already living in your own hell; you didn’t need any other realities to plague you that night.

--

Living without Bobby felt wrong, like there was no reason to wake up if he wasn’t beside you. You ignored Donghyuk’s advice of going to the hospital, took the pills that dulled the pain like they were candy instead. There were enough to get you through three days. You only got of bed to go to the bathroom, refused to shower, only ate when you had nothing left to throw up.

Sabrina called on the third day. You ignored it at first, letting it ring over and over again until the buzzing gave you a migraine. You answered after her seventh try.

“I need you to come to work tonight.” She said immediately, no real urgency in her tone.

“I can’t Sabrina, I’m sorry.” You replied, voice hoarse and dry.

She was silent for a few seconds before clearing her throat. “I hate to pull this card, but you owe me, big time and you know that, so I need you to come, whatever is happening I can help you with. Be here in an hour.”

She hung up without a reply and you stared at the ceiling, wishing the world would swallow you up. Your limbs felt like loaded down bricks as you pulled yourself from the bed, immediately taking Yuki outside. The day after you came home and cried yourself to sleep, you woke up with her on your chest and immediately broke down in tears again. You couldn’t imagine why she always came back even now that Bobby was gone, but she did, let you pull her into your arms and carry her upstairs.

Getting a shower made you feel surprisingly nice, despite the aches and pains that took over your torso with the movement and pressure. You could feel yourself healing, at least physically, and that gave you some form of relief. It was well over an hour later that you made it to the bar, not worried about being late when it was an accomplishment that you got out of bed at all. You found yourself deeply confused when you saw all of the curtains were drawn, no lights on inside, but you walked in anyways pulling out your phone’s flashlight and turning on the lights as the door shut behind you.

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, but when they did, your stomach flipped.

Bobby sat tied to a chair in the middle of the room, nose bleeding, dark hair a mess. Duct tape covered his mouth, and his eyes widened at the sight of you. You ran over, heart racing, confusion and fear fueling your actions.

“What happened?!” You shouted in a whisper as you started to pull the tape from his lips, tears filling your eyes, only to be answered with a hand on the back of your neck that paralyzed you with fear.

It was terrifying, how you never heard Seunghyun in the room, how you he moved close enough to put a hand on you without even the mildest realization that he was there.

“Yes, y/n, what did happen?” He mumbled in your ear. Bobby’s face was masked with fury and frustration as he stared up at you, arms and legs flexing as he struggled to free himself.

“You see, you had me under the impression that maybe you were a showpiece, a stand in at parties that had no real emotional connection with this guy, that’s how you made it seem the other night, but what confuses me is how I end up being hunted down after our little run in. After I was nice enough to let you leave in one piece.” His laugh was sinister and sent chills down your spine as the grip on the back of your neck tightened, causing you to flinch. You noticed Sabrina standing beside the bar, tears in her eyes, apology written on her face as well as a bloody lip.

“Tell me, y/n, why have I been chased all over the city for the last 72 hours if Bobby doesn’t care about you?”

You shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. “I don’t know. I- I told you that it wasn’t that serious Seunghyun!” His grip released from your neck and you turned to face him but were met with the back of his hand across your cheek. You stumbled back and Bobby groaned from the chair, eyes raging.

“You’re lying.” He laughed out, cracking his knuckles while you moved yourself behind a table, tears taking your breath away as you tried to find a way out of this. “I’m so tired of people lying to me.” He pulled a knife out from waistband of his pants, simultaneously sucking the air out of the room.

It was a split second, the glance you shared across the room with Sabrina. She nodded once and it was like you shared the same thoughts. You turned and ran as fast as you could to the back exit, heart beating wildly, the sound of Seunghyun’s feet racing closer and closer fueling the adrenalin that pushed you forward.

You had just made it into the back alleyway when his hand closed around your shoulder, shoving you towards the ground. You turned back, trying to crawl away but he lifted you by your shirt.

“You’re gonna pay for that.” He hissed out; knife pressed to your neck. You choked out a sob and he smiled, bringing his face closer to yours.

“Such a shame you had to cause all of this trouble. You have the prettiest face.” He pressed his lips to yours and you reeled away, trying to tilt your head back as far as you could. When he pulled back, he laughed, no humor behind it. “Such a lousy kisser. Oh well, I won’t be dealing with you anymore anyways.”

He dragged the knife down your cheek, applying enough pressure to leave the sting of open skin along it, blood mixing with the tears that fell. He changed his grip on the knife and held it up in the air, a scream falling from your lips with clenched eyes, at the same time the sound of a gun cocking halted his movements. You looked up to see the barrel of it pressed to the side of Seunghyun’s head, Bobby’s hands steady though the anger in his form was apparent. He looked down at Seunghyun with a look so intimidating that it made you shake.

“Stand up.” He said, never pulling the gun away from his face, stepping closer to grip his collar in his fist. Seunghyun smiled, never taking his eyes off of you as he stood up straight, hands pulling away from your neck.

The events that happened next went quicker than you could keep up with; he whipped around to knock the gun from Bobby’s at the same time Bobby pulled the knife from Seunghyun, both weapons flying away as they fell to the ground. Fists connecting with flesh, the sound making you sick as your stomach rolled over and over, images flying through your mind of all of the anger, all of the darkness that consumed your life. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only follow the hollow paces that your body took you through, standing up from the ground, grabbing the gun that laid before you, emptiness taking the seat of the fear that once controlled you. You remembered seeing Bobby shove Seunghyun away, but after that it was black, the sound of a gun ringing so close, ‘who was shooting?’, ‘who got shot?’, thoughts racing so fast that your head spun.

When you came to, your arm was extended, pistol firmly griped in your hand. You were shaking, tears falling from your eyes as muffled voices shouted around you, voices you couldn’t make out clearly. Bobby’s face appeared in front of yours and you sobbed.

“Y/n, drop the gun!” He yelled, but you couldn’t do anything. You felt paralyzed, fear regaining control as it took over everything inside of you. The sobs wouldn’t stop, tears endless, bones shaking wildly.

“Y/n, it’s okay. You’re okay, I’m here.” Bobby took your face in his hands and you dropped the gun, the sight of his eyes pulling you back into reality. He pulled you into his chest and you gripped him like he was the only thing keeping you on earth, like you would die if he let you go. He held you in his arms, keeping your head pressed to his chest so you couldn’t see the body in front of you, protecting you from the world because he felt like he let you down. Felt like he failed.

Sabrina’s hand touched your back and you flinched before turning around. Her eyes were sincere, broken and numb like yours.

“I’ll tell them it was self-defense. Go.” She said and Bobby’s hand clasped around yours before you could say a word.

Bobby pulled you through the alley, guiding you the same way you did for him months before when you found him in the woods. He walked you into the building, entered the code to your apartment, all but carried you inside. He stood with you in the middle of your room, holding you tightly to his chest until you felt like you wouldn’t collapse with every breath you took. Ran his hands through your hair, whispered in your ear over and over that you were safe until you actually believed it.

“I killed someone.” You mumbled into his chest and he pulled away to see you. Your eyes burned with tears; throat thick with the words that fell from your mouth, not sure how to handle the reality of them.

His lips pressed against yours before he pulled you back into his chest.

“He would have killed you.” He whispered. Images of Seunghyun pressing a knife to your face, chapped lips pressed to yours, the smell of pine and beer making your head spin in a nauseating way.

You wrapped your arms around Bobby’s waist and found comfort in the way his warmth hadn’t changed. Found comfort in the sound of his heartbeat, the sound of your favorite coming home. Found comfort in the way he smelled like mint and laundry detergent, so different from Seunghyun.

“Can we go home?” You asked and felt the rumble of a laugh in his chest.

“How could you still want to be with me after today?” He questioned, pulling away from you some.

You looked at him, face serious. “I want to be with you forever.”

You expected him to push you away, shut you down and draw a line, but he didn’t. Instead he kissed you with all of the words he couldn’t say yet, kissed you with a thousand forever’s that answered every question you would ever ask.

Bobby was like fire, but sometimes you felt the same. Your secrets looked so tempting in the orange flames that rose from your shoulders, begging to be loved even though you knew the destruction you could bring. You never wanted anything but to love someone, even if it brought you ruin in the end. Meeting him was fate, flames joining and igniting in ways neither of you expected. He settled your soul more than you deserved and sometimes you ignited his, but it was okay because you had each other. Two lonely embers begging to be touched when the rest of the world broke them down, left them empty. It warmed you from the inside out, his kisses, his smiles, the magical way he brought the stars down to earth for you to see.

“I love you.” You said one night, a few months later, watching him put dishes away so mundanely that you couldn’t remember all of his dark parts. He looked back at you sitting on top of the kitchen counter with such a puzzled expression that you smiled. “I love you, Bobby.” You repeated.

His silence didn’t scare you, didn’t make you rethink your words or regret anything, having kept them inside even though you had felt them long before. Instead it settled all of your fears, wiped out all of your worries, the adoration that poured from his gaze filling you up with all of the love you ever needed. He walked closer and stood in between your legs, looking up at you. Your hands snaked around his neck as his rested down beside you. You ran your hands through his hair and kissed him lightly once before pulling away, resting your forehead on his. His eyes were shining in the way they always did, a glow that only you were luck enough to see.

“So stupid.” He whispered before pressing his lips to yours.

A love you knew would never be perfect, something you would have to fight for until the day you died. He gripped the backs of your thighs and pulled you closer, ankles crossing around his waist as he smiled into your lips. You fell into the fire of his soul, promised to yourself then that you would love every single piece of him even if it was the end of you. Whatever it took, you would burn for him.

--

A/N - Guys!!!! Bobby has taken over my heart and soul during my social distancing, and I have been up writing this for the last 6 nights until 5am, complete ruining my sleep schedule, but I just couldn’t sleep until I got my heart out for him dude!!! I hope you guys love this, it is absolutely the longest fic I have ever written, and I worked major hard on it, so plz give me some love/likes/critiques, anything is welcome!! I absolutely love hearing from you guys, so I hope you get some feels from this. Love you all!!! Hope you’re staying safe in this crazy world!

[shewantedtobeasecretgirl]

The Backstage Pass (Out)

Hey everyone... this is still not an update of Do You Wanna Dance? but another pathetic attempt of me to provide you with PJ-related reading material... Sssooo, there was this post of @gardenofstoney... and I’ve always taken tags verry seriously. I felt addressed since the situation she described sounded absolutely like a perfect fanfic material so I ended up playing with the idea. One thing led to another and a Stone Gossard one-shot happened, which I hereby share with you (with her and @mookiebaelock’s consent). Disclaimer: may contain traces of Jeff Ament!

Ps. I solemnly swear I get Judy out of the shower soon.

„Are you sure you don’t want to move towards the side of the stage? These Vedder-fanatics seem pretty dangerous, I’m not sure I want to be here when they go wild…” Mel asked fidgeting with the setups of her professional camera.

“No, I’m pretty sure I’m fine here…” Maggie answered leaning her forehead against her arms that were resting on the barrier. She was dog-tired; she and her best friend, Mel were cueing the whole day to get there at the show of their favorite band, Pearl Jam. Actually, Pearl Jam was their second favorite band but it was the rock group that brought them together. They saw each other’s introduction in the “Pen Pal Wanted” column of Footsteps, the band’s fanzine and the rest was history... And finally, they were there, standing at their precious front row places, waiting for the show to begin…

They agreed on standing in front of the center of the stage since they both had different preferences… Mel was dying to make close shots of her bassist crush (and maybe steal a few smiles and glances from him), while Maggie was interested in the other side of the stage… to be more accurate, in the person who regularly ruled it. Stone Gossard. The absent-minded, aloof alien who played the rhythm guitar parts and who, unfortunately, wasn’t the most responsive member of the band. He was said to be a sarcastic, hilarious and nice guy but at shows he just… didn’t give a shit about the crowd. He was usually absorbed in the songs, following the rhythm with his entire body, marching to the beat or just bobbing his head… but that was all. No interaction, no communication, just the chords. If Maggie had been alone there, she would have picked his side and stayed there as if she had been pinned to the ground… but Mel wanted to stand near Jeff so they made a compromise. Of course, Mel tried every kind of dirty trick to lure her closer to Mike’s and Jeff’s territory and Maggie begged desperately with her irresistible sad puppy face to move in the other direction, after all, if the mountain won't come to Muhammad… and Jeff would bounce around, anyways, she argued. But neither of them could convince the other one so they were stuck in front of the place of Eddie Vedder and they knew they would have to fight hard to be able to keep their position.

“You will defend me, I know.” Maggie cuddled to her friend, letting herself be pulled in a bear hug. She was short and slim, the top of her head barely reached the level of the tall Mel’s chin, that’s why they often joked about themselves being two dogs coming from different species but being allies and best friends forever.

“I’ll defend you just… not now, oh my god, ohmygod, they’re here, that’s him!!!” Mel suddenly let her go frantically taking one picture after another of her main target.

“Okay, I can’t win against Jeff Ament…” Maggie shook her head with a forgiving smile only to discover the object of her admiration appearing on the other side of the stage, walking around with a deadpan on his face. She couldn’t help chuckling when she noticed he was wearing a black socks-dress shoes combo... with light brown shorts. She’d already got used to these weird testimonies of his terrible fashion sense but he always managed to surprise her with a newer unacceptable outfit.

When the singer finally showed up too, the crowd moved forward, pressing the girls against the barrier… and from that moment on, they only had some rest during the slower songs. Not that they wanted to complain, they were singing along the lyrics, screaming, laughing, crying or just squeezing each other’s hand making sure they were not dreaming, they were finally together, having the time of their life, really living their favorite songs. Mel was overly contented with seeing the bass player’s manly moves in the tight tank top he was wearing and the passionate solos and dazed-off moments of Mike pleased both of them too, even if they were within the spitting range of Ed. But as time went by, they both started feeling the depressing thought that this would be over soon, even if they tried to fight against it by bouncing and screaming twice as intensely as before…

When Stone started playing the opening chords of State of Love and Trust, the crowd went completely nuts and Maggie had to tighten her grip not to be drifted… the pressure behind her eased for a second but at once, she felt a sharp pain in the back of her head and lost the touch with the outside world…

***

Mhmmmm… what are these bright lights? I must have died and got in that shining corridor about which people who experienced clinical death always tell…

“Jesus, I go blind…” I mumble… or am I just hearing my own thoughts? Shit, this splitting headache, I’m definitely alive, I must have fallen asleep after taking in my migraine pill.

“Do you prefer low light?” a nasal male voice asks and as I look around, I find myself lying on a couch but I’m not in my own apartment, I don’t know this place. Oh, so I’m in a dream, nice, let’s see where it’s going…

“Yes, please!” I groan covering my eyes.

“Clouds roll by… sorry, bad joke, here, is it better his way?”

I take away my hand from my eyes and let them adjust to the pleasant half-light provided probably by a standing lamp somewhere out of my sight. When did I learn how to change the setting of my dreams? Cool… The owner of the voice takes place opposite me only to make me realize, I’m in a Stone dream, moreover, this time it’s a new one.

“Are you okay?” he’s checking me with the inquiring but still expressionless stare of a toad.

“More or less…” I mumble helplessly. Interesting, I’ve never had such a vivid dream about him, it’s somehow different, like I was in charge, I’ve never felt like this before while dreaming… Familiar melodies provide the musical accompaniment, I have to listen for a few bars until I recognize Yellow Ledbetter… but he’s here… and the music comes from…?

“Are we… at a show?” I ask suspiciously, I’m afraid that despite the realistic surrounding, it’ll turn into an incoherent screenplay written by my subconscious.

“Yes, we are…”

“But how come you’re not playing? You should be on the stage with the others…”

“I don’t feel like playing… I mean in that song, I have basically not much to do, I strum the same chords as Mike, it’s boring. At sound checks, sometimes I beg until I can play the drum parts, I’m a desperate drummer but I love it. But the rhythm guitar part is just… nah. Plus, I had to pee, anyways.”

“Fair enough.” I snicker. He’s such an awkward dork, even in my dreams. “Well, that happens if a musician is too busy with drinking beer at gigs instead of playing”.

“Excuse me?” he startles offended. That’s my favorite thing in dreaming, I can do and say what I’d never dare in real life.

“Do you think we don’t notice when you’re just fudging, walking around with the guitar and use the change of amplifier setups as an excuse to take a few sip of your booze? That doesn’t really count as musical contribution.”

“Ugh, busted. I try not to drink before the show though. Right as soon as I get onstage I start drinking. But come on, I never belch out of key, what’s this if not musical humility?”

I snort shaking my head and keep grinning from ear to ear. If he’s such a hilariously funny guy in my fantasy, how adorable he can be in the reality… I know he used to be an annoying, sarcastic little shit but when PJ got really successful, he mellowed down and made himself to the main target of his irony… The mixture of this down-to-earth humbleness and calm confidence was one of the main reasons why he became my favorite member in the band; in the band that only consists of great, relatable people, by the way.

Maybe I should use the occasion to have a chitchat with him, I could ask him questions about stuff I’ve always wanted to know… even if the answers are only the products of my mind…

“Do you see the world in yellow?”

Okay, maybe that’s not the best start but the colored lenses of his spectacles somehow distracted me and it just slipped out. He reacts with that short, amused eyebrow twitch I love… good job, Maggie.

“It’s a good question! It’s funny, nobody asked that before… but to answer it, I do, it’s like being trapped in that moment of sunset when everything is glowing in that golden light… but to be less poetic, it makes everyone look as if they were Lego figures, they have yellow head, y’know…”

The mentioning of my favorite toy brings back old memories about the times when I was building my own town with eclectic houses that served as the scene of the made-up action stories crafted by my cousin and me.

“I you were a Lego figure, you’d be a bad boy.” I remark with a timid smile and try to ignore the fact that my cheeks are in flames.

“Only if I were a Lego figure? That’s offensive. I was the member of the gang Newton Street Boys. We were the most dangerous guys on whole Capitol Hill, we terrorized the district by taking protection rackets from kindergarten pupils. They were scared to death when we showed up riding our bikes, I liked the banana-seat ones with the high handlebars - maybe a card in the wheel could have been part of it.” he chuckles playfully. “Anyway, why a bad boy?”

“It’s because of the scruff.” I giggle and reach out to pinch his neck but he leans away.

“Please don’t touch me.” he grunts.

Hey, brain, we had an agreement: if I behave decently enough in real life, you won’t throw any obstacles in the way of my naughty tendencies at nights. So if I want to touch Stone’s perfect neck, I’m gonna to do it. Period.

“I said no!!!” he repeats this time angrier when my fingers approach his skin again. What the hell???

“Sorry. I… I just wanted to say that there were those bearded figures… and you could get them mostly from the pirate or the police station series.”

“You mean they had an attachable Lego beard?” he inquires confused and excited at the same time; I’m sure he’s already forgotten the embarrassing intermezzo and is now desperately trying to recall the look of the little yellow dudes.

“Haha, no, it was just painted on their face. There was the moustache, the regular beard and the scruff that basically meant black dots on their face. And the scruffy guys always played the role of the bad boys in my stories. You know, the bank robber, the fleeing prisoner…”

“… the fucked-up musician… we should definitely have a Lego party once!”

“We should…” I repeat and we’re smiling silently at each other for a few seconds… I clear my throat and swallow hard since my mouth got completely dry, shit, it must be that damn gum-shield I have to wear at nights to prevent myself from gnashing.

“You want some water?” he asks walking to a fridge standing at the door.

“Fuck, yes, I’m dying of thirst.” I moan and I mean it.

“Here.” he hands a small bottle to me while he opens a beer can. I rather don’t make any remarks, the show is over, after all… But now that I think into it, maybe the other band members will show up too… I can’t wait!

I lower my head and press the ice cold bottle against my forehead. It feels incredibly good, that blinding pain is still pulsing in my head. As I direct my gaze onto the ground, I can’t help laughing again when I spot his dress shoes and the black socks tucked into them. The hem rolled down around his left ankle making the socks look like they were unmatched.

However thirsty I am, I can only take small sips since I’m already snorting at the next part of this weird vision.

“Anyway… before the others would arrive, there’s one thing we have to discuss.” I begin when I finally manage to force my facial muscles into a serious expression.

“Something that stays between us? Like a dirty little secret?” his face lights up with a boyish smile.

“Kind of, if your socks are dirty…” I roll my eyes. “It’s the footwear.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Of course yours, mine is normal. Matching boots, a totally adequate choice for a rock concert. But yours is just… criminal.”

“Don’t be rude with my shoes, they look good and they are comfy as fuck!” he circles with his feet comically.

“They do but man, look in that mirror!” I point at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. “You look like the mixture of an elementary school boy and a bachelor dressed by his mother. Shorts with dress shoes? How? Why? It’s an obvious no-no!” I scream.

“I have only these ones, sneakers and flip flops with me, which doesn’t leave much variation.” he shrugs briefly.

“You should have chosen the sneakers… as for the “f” word, I’m not even willing to pronounce it.”

“I always wore hiking boots in the earlier times, they were the most comfortable choice but they weren’t compatible with the heat on stage. And then, I got introduced in the magical world of orthopedic sandals but the band somehow vetoed them, I don’t really understand why... I was only allowed to wear them between shows and at soundchecks but at gigs, I had to wear the boots… Once, before a show, maybe in Atlanta, I can’t remember exactly, the sole of my boot separated so I could only wear my sandals… the guys freaked out about my velvet shorts-sweatpants-white socks-sandals outfit and obliged me to wear Jeff’s shoes during the show.” he recalls but I can barely listen to him, his hand talk and the fidgeting alien fingers are definitely more appealing than the image of Birkenstocks worn with socks.

As my eyes are glued to him, I involuntarily start playing with my hair but my fingers land in something sticky. I check them and glance at him helplessly, as if he could help me find out why blood is the next nonsense feature in this scene.

“Fuck, why didn’t you tell me earlier that you’re bleeding?” he shouts and rushes to the fridge.

“Because I didn’t know…” I mutter and can’t form further coherent sentences since he steps back to me with an ice bag and presses it to the back of my head… and he keeps standing opposite me with his arms laced around my neck. I’m desperately trying to look at the ceiling, the ground and the four walls at the same time, anywhere but him…

“This is too embarrassing, I want this to finally end… this is terrible.” I whisper in pain, fixing my gaze on the ugly shoes and working on calming down my hyperventilation with all my nerves.

“Hey, I just wanted to help! Just for the record, we don’t often let passed-out fans in the backstage, you were in bad shape and…”

“No, I mean, thanks and all but this dream… it’s going nowhere, it was funny but you entering into my personal space creates a tension that needs resolution, like a hug or a kiss or anything, this makes just no sense!” I blurt out, basically arguing with myself, the director of the movie.

“What? That doctor could finally arrive, you must have a concussion!” he gently tries to push me back onto to the couch but I shake his hands off me.

“What doctor... wait… the pain… the blood… is this… real?” I flail still hoping he doesn’t exist and suddenly disappears or turns into my real crush or Edge from U2 or whatever.

“You got hit with by a half-empty beer can and you passed out so the security personnel fished you out of the crowd. Since I came back anyway, I suggested that they should lay you down here until they get a doctor. You got a backstage pass by passing out. A backstage pass out.” he tries to ease he situation with a pun but I’m not really in the mood.

“No… the scruff… the shoes… the ki… I can’t believe I said all this bullshit, this is worse than a nightmare…” I bury my face into my palms completely mortified and stumble back towards the couch dizzily. Suddenly, I hear a familiar voice… Mel!!!

***

“I’m not going to repeat this again, my best friend is in that room so if you won’t let me in immediately, I’m going to fuckin’ sue you!!!” Mel pointed with her index finger outraged at the huge guy standing in front of the door of the dressing room. Actually, instead of suing, she wanted to headbutt him in the chest but she knew it would feel like running into a concrete wall. She’d already been arguing with him for like fifteen minutes but the guy was just standing there with folded arms, stoically bearing the threats and the various spells casted on him by the furious girl.

“Hey, Ernie, I think you can let her in, her friend has just woken up, it’d be better if she’s with her when the doctor arrives…” a top of a head with ruffled hair peeked out of the door. The security guard obeyed and silently stepped aside.

“Maggie!!!” Mel shouted and tossed the young man in the door away to get a free way to her friend. “I was so worried about you!!!” she captured her into a rib-breaking hug.

“I’m… I’m okay… Stone took care of me…” Maggie mumbled against Mel’s chest trying to point at the guitarist under her friend’s arm.

“Stone???” Mel screamed making both of them turn around without breaking the hug.

“Yup.” the guitarist waved clumsily with one hand at her, digging his other hand deeply in his pocket.

Maggie managed to tiptoe enough to rest her head on her friend’s shoulder, which allowed her to saw the door opening… only to recognize the other members of the band arriving back from the stage. The small group was guided by Jeff who stopped at the door exchanging a surprised look with the embarrassed guitarist standing in the room.

Maggie started silently shaking of laughter because she could already imagine what’d happen next…

“Uhm… Mel… I’m choking… please let me go…” she acted patting her friend’s back a few times. “I think you should turn back… slowly…” she recommended biting her lips to hide her amusement when she pulled away to see the girl’s reaction.

“Why… what…?” Mel looked back over her shoulder and… due to the bassist’s excellent reflexes, she didn’t land on the ground but in his arms. Jeff stared shocked alternately at the unconscious girl and the other ones, begging for help with his eyes.

“Jesus, not again… “Stone sighed facepalming.” She’s yours, I’m out.”

[chiefnooniensingh]

upon a day, came Sorrow into me (a joe x nicky one-shot)

rating: T warnings: major character death summary: Joe and Nicky face the worst thing yet. Companion piece to neither the angels nor the demons. A/n: The roles reversed this time.The title is from the sonnet by Dante. I'm terribly sorry. I need to go write some fluff soon. also on: ao3

Nicky was woefully unprepared, which quite frankly surprised him more than he would admit. For years, centuries, Nicky had known that death was coming, even for them. It would just take longer. He’d watched Andy grow old and die, a bittersweet memory that he took out and held close to his heart whenever he missed his boss, his mentor, his friend, too much. He’d been forced to sit there, and watch Booker slowly sink into a dreamless sleep from which he would never return, finally at peace with the world and himself.

Nicky knew death was part of life, their life. “Time is coming for all of us,” he always said sagely. “When it is our time, it is our time.”

Nicky was about to find out that this wisdom was harder to put into practice than he had ever feared.

“Nicky…” Joe’s strained voice pulled him out of his sleep, and he felt the arms around him tremble. “Nicolò, wake up.”

Nicky sat upright at once, gun already in his hand, looking around. Their room was empty, except for the two of them, and there was no danger in sight. Then he looked down at his Joe, the love of his life, and his eyes widened. He was lying in a pool of blood. Panicked, Nicky looked at himself, his shirt partially drenched. “Oh no,” Nicky said, sitting up on his knees and fluttering his hands over Joe’s body, trying to find the source of the blood – so much blood. “Joe, what happened, how is this possible?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Joe groaned. “I thought it’d healed, I swear – ” Joe pulled up his shirt and Nicky went absolutely white. There was a huge gash in Joe’s stomach, something that should have closed, and Joe should’ve felt that earlier, what the fuck.

“No, no, no,” Nicky said, panicking completely. “Nile! Kati! Help!”

Nile and Kati wasted no time bursting through the door, weapons raised, ready to fight. Nicky looked at them in desperation. “Help me,” he moaned, his hands already soaked in Joe’s blood.

Nile turned extremely pale, then dropped her gun to the floor with a clatter and ran to the bathroom for supplies, but Kati kept staring. This was the first time they’d seen one of them die, as they’d joined shortly after Booker died.

Dios, he was going to be the last one left. The pain of that realization hit him like a freight train. (He was actually hit by a freight train once. This was, somehow, worse.) “No, no, no, no, Joe, don’t do this to me!” he said, panic in his voice, as he looked back down at his love, his heart, his entire world.

“Nicolò, it is you who always says…” Joe said, with a weak cough and a loving smile.

Nicky shook his head frantically. “I know what I always say, but you cannot leave me!”

Joe lifted his hand to touch Nicky’s face and Nicky leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. Joe’s fingers were already frighteningly cold. Nicky knew Nile was bringing the supplies for no reason; Joe had lost too much blood. “Amore mio,” Joe whispered, “you have been there by my side my entire immortal life. You saved me. You protected me when I was weak, was there when I was strong.”

“Then let me protect you now, let me save you,” Nicky said, his voice breaking as tears ran freely down his face. He leaned down to press his forehead to Joe’s. “Please, habibi, do not leave me alone in this world. Please…”

“Nicolò di Genova, you know that is not how this works. I’m sorry that I am leaving you now, after so many years together. I wish we could’ve gone together. But I will wait for you. Wherever it is I am going, I will be waiting for you when it is your time.”

“I can’t do this without you…” Nicky sobbed, shaking his head as if to deny the entire possibility of his Yusuf leaving him.

Joe laughed, pulled back his face a little to look into Nicky’s eyes. “Of course you can, my love, my heart. You are stronger than anyone I have ever met. You will be fine.”

“No,” Nicky said, shaking his head before kissing Joe hard, afraid that it would be too late, that he would never get to kiss his Joe again. “I’m not strong, mi hai fatto forte, you did that.”

Joe smiled again. “I love you, Nicolò. You are my life, my love, my heart. That will never change. Tu ed io fino alla fine, Nicolò. That is something even death cannot change.”

Nicky shook his head, nearly in shock now as he held Joe in his arms while the life slowly drained out of him. Nile and Kati were quietly sobbing next to the bed, already grieving while giving Nicky the chance for his last goodbye. “I love you, Yusuf. What am I supposed to do without you?”

Joe’s eyes flickered to Nile and Kati, and he stretched out his hand for them to take. Nile kissed the back of his hand in farewell. Nicky could barely stomach the heartbreak that little moment caused him. “You take care of these two. You keep fighting, you keep doing good. You are kind-hearted, Nico. Do not lose that because of me, I beg of you…” On the last word, Joe dissolved into a coughing fit and Nicky felt more blood spill onto the bed. “It is my time, Nico. I will be at peace. And I will wait for you. Promisso.”

Nicky leaned his forehead against Joe’s again. “‘Neither the angels in Heaven above, nor the demons under the sea, can ever dissever my soul from the beautiful Yusuf al-Kaysani’,” he whispered.

“Poe,” Yusuf said, smiling softly and stroking Nicky’s cheeks. “And I’m the one who’s an incurable romantic?”

“You bring out the best in me, my Yusuf,” he said, putting on a brave smile, and then ducked his head down to press his lips to Joe’s again, for what he instinctively knew would be the last time. Joe responded, however weakly, but Nicky felt the hand fall away from his face, the last of Joe’s strength leaving him. “Joe?” There was no response.

“No,” Nile squeaked.

Nicky stared at his lover’s face, his fingers roaming over the still features in Joe’s face. His eyes were closed, looking for all the world as if he were asleep. Nicky felt a stab of pain pass through his heart, and he doubled over, letting out a howl that tore through his very soul. He felt as if his heart was being torn out of his chest, the pain overtaking his entire body, and he screamed his pain into the world. When he’d exhausted all of his strength, he fell forward, his face pressed in Joe’s chest, sobbing quietly. Softly, as if to still reach Joe, wherever he was, Nicky began to rhythmically, but unsteadily, sing, “Ti amo. Non ho nessun pensiero che non sia tuo; non ho nel sangue nessun desiderio che non sia per te. Lo sai. Non vedo nella mia vita altro compagno, non vedo altra gioia. Rimani. Riposati. Non temere di nulla. Dormi stanotte sul mio cuore…”

“Nicky, I’m so sorry,” Nile said, her voice choked with tears, as she reached to touch Nicky’s shoulder. “What can we do, what do you need?”

“Joe,” Nicky said pathetically, his fingers winding in Joe’s blood-soaked shirt. “What do I do now?”

Nile held tightly to his shoulder, Kati holding just as tight to Nile’s hand. A family of three now. Nicky’s heart broke some more. “We’re going to get through this together.”

“He was always with me…what do I do without him?” Nicky’s voice cracked on every syllable. “I’m alone…” Nicky looked at Joe’s face, in which he could still see the man he loved, even as his soul had already left.

Yusuf ibn Ibrahim ibn Muhammad ibn al-Kaysani was gone from this world.

Nicolò di Genova was alone.

[asher-west]

◦ ✧ 🌊 — intro !

⌠ CHASE STOKES, 23, CISMALE, HE/HIM ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, ASHER WEST! according to their records, they’re a FOURTH year, specializing in THREAT ELIMINATION + DRIVER’S ED; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( windswept hair, the smell of the ocean, bruised knuckles, a lopsided grin, ripped denim ). when it’s the ( pisces )’s birthday on 03/18/1997, they always request APPLE PIE from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ lily, 19, she/her, gmt ⍀ 

@gallagherintro​

|| CONNECTIONS PAGE || PINTEREST || ABOUT || STATS || BIO ||

hey, it’s lily back again with another mess of a human being -- everyone say hi to my floridian himbo child asher! i love him a lot and i’m super excited for him to start interacting with everyone -- i binged outer banks the other day, saw chase stokes, and was like --   yep, that one please. ( i’m really not sure why i cursed myself with chase stokes bc at the moment he only has two gif packs, but wahey, i love his golden retriever face -- just be prepared for the same few gifs over and over lmao )

[ c h a r a c t e r ; ]

&. basics

full name: Asher Theodore West

nicknames: Ash, Theo

age: 23

orientation: heterosexual

relationship status: single

date of birth: March 18th, 1997

hometown: Edgewater, Florida

gender: cismale

language(s) spoken: English, Spanish

accent: central American

&. personality

five positive traits: loyal, gallant, reliable, self-sufficient, practical

five negative traits: overprotective, stubborn, undisciplined, impatient, quick-tempered

goals/desires: make a name for himself, support his family, have fun

fears: his dad, disappointing his friends/family, snakes

hobbies: surfing, driving, making people laugh

[ s t o r y ; ]  ( tw: abuse)

background:

asher was the result of a teen pregnancy (his mother was 17 and his father was 18), and grew up with practically nothing in a tiny house by the beach in edgewater, florida

nearly a month after he turned five, his mother gave birth to his little sister, willow -- she was his birthday present, his mom joked, as asher received nothing else that year

unfortunately, the birth of his little sister was the last straw for his dad, a 22 year old who felt trapped by his laborious job at the docks and growing family he never asked for

his dad became violent towards asher and his mom, lashing out for any small inconvenience or mistake, though rarely physically 

then one morning, asher and his mother woke up to find that his dad had disappeared with all their savings

asher’s mom was devastated and took on a job at the local diner, and his aunt cora came to help take care of him and his sister ( although ‘take care’ meant her coming over and passing out drunk on their tiny couch )

asher stepped up and started to practically raise his little sister, taking the burden of the child away from his already overworked mom

at thirteen, he started to take on odd jobs at the docks to help make money

at sixteen, his father reappeared on their doorstep with a bouquet of lilies (his mother’s favorite) and said he was sorry, and his mom welcomed him back, desperate to return to her fantasy of a perfect family

but his dad had not changed, and remained abusive, only this time it was much worse than when they were kids, and asher tried to direct his dad’s physical violence towards himself to save his mom and little sister

and when asher was 18, yet again, his dad disappeared, this time taking asher’s college savings with him

with his dream of college ruined, asher started skipping school to make more money at the docks, no longer caring about his grades

he even started to work night shifts -- but after one of the workers made a lewd comment about his thirteen year old little sister and he decked them, he lost his job 

he started to become implicated in more unsavory businesses, hearing about odd jobs from the more criminal side of town -- he was a getaway driver, made deliveries of ‘goods’, and was even sent to get money from people

as this resulted in him getting beat up, he worked his ass off to train and become better at fighting and driving -- the better he was, the more money he made for his family

when he was 18, he was approached by someone from blackthorne, enticed with the promise that the assassin life would set his family up for life

his two years at blackthorne were awful, and asher became miserable, throwing himself into his classes to try and become the best he could

when it shut down and he transferred to gallagher, it was easily one of the best days of his life

now:

asher became much more at ease at gallagher, starting to enjoy his classes and the prospect of becoming a spy rather than an assassin

his big brother tendencies bleed into his normal life, so he’s protective as fuck of his friends ( and, to be honest, anyone who seems like they need protecting )

he’s a certified dumbass ( he grew up in florida, for chrissakes ) and will get in a fistfight with someone twice his size if he so much as senses an injustice

he misses home like crazy - the sand, the sea air, the heat

he just really wants to do well, so he honestly tries his best in every single one of his classes

that being said, he’s a dumbass and loves to mess around ( like climbing the statue as a dare or trying to get into the forbidden rooms multiple times )

he’s easily aggravated, possibly a trait inherited from his father 

also his biggest fear in life is turning out like his dad

which is why he absolutely GUZZLES respect women juice

he still flinches sometimes when people he’s close to raise their voice around him, or if someone he’s close to waves their hand too close to his head, but he tries to hide it as best as he can

since he skipped most of his classes in his last two years of highschool, he can feel a little dumb around some of the super smart people at gallagher, making him incredibly embarrassed

he’s also very touchy when it comes to money problems, due to his poor upbringing

others:

when he was a kid, before he had to worry about his dad, he got into surfing, and it became his favorite thing of all time -- he misses it loads while at gallagher 

he LOVES to sleep in

loves to make people smile, and just generally likes being in a happy environment

since his mom works at a diner, he adores pies and diner food because they remind him of home

does the ‘hang loose’ sign with his hand way too often -- it started off as a joke when people learnt that he surfs, but now it’s engrained in him

his hair is a floppy mess -- his dad used to have super short hair, and asher thinks he looks a little too much like his dad with short hair, so the hair remains long.

almost too long, tbh, but he can just make a man bun, so he likes it

his sister makes fun of his long hair all the damn time

he’s terrible with technology -- a genuine Old Man when it comes to computers and phones, but he tries his best

he’s really good at cooking, after making most meals for his sister as a teenager

[ W A N T E D   C O N N E C T I O N S ; ]

best friend — i need him to have a super loyal close friend he can bond with, maybe even a partner in crime?

bros — please please please give me some fellow dumbasses he can do stupid things and make bad decisions with!

romantic interests — could be past flings, or current flirtations, but he’s a charming man, and respects women, so he’s a catch and has probably charmed a few ladies around the school 

exes — he despises the idea of ever hurting someone or breaking anyone’s heart, so maybe he has a few exes that he’s still good friends with? or, alternatively, for the angst, there was a bad breakup and he’s plagued by guilt.

budding romance — i’m a sap and a sucker for tropes so please give him his soulmate! 

little sister — i would absolutely love for someone to play his sister - maybe she followed him to gallagher to be closer to him, or to follow in her big brother’s footsteps? i’m gonna put this up on the main but if anyone wants dibs, please message me!

anything else — like i said in calypso’s intro, give me anything and everything, please! i love having a wealth of established connections. 

tl;dr — asher is a lovable, overprotective surfer dude, who grew up poor with an abusive father and a basically absent mother, and he practically raised his little sister, causing him to develop a paternal complex towards anyone he deems in need of help. he will get in a fight with anyone over any injustices, but he also just likes to hang out with friends and ~chill~! 

i hope you all love him as much as i do!

[kashilascorner]

the wonderful @2-dream tagged me to list my 10 favorite characters, so here it is! (in no particular order)

1. John Constantine, from the Hellblazer comics (and others). He is my favorite bastard I swear. I don't know what's about him, but I've loved him since minute 1 and here we are. He is terrible in every aspect, but he is softer than he pretends to be and that just sends me sorry. I love that noir detective vibe and that edginess to him and I just love following his adventures. He is pretty archetypical, yet he has something that makes him himself and that's cool. Plus, he is just funny at times. My favorite disaster bi? Possibly.

2. Data, from Star Trek The Next Generation. I love my android boy and I don't care what ST said, he does have feelings, he just processes them in a very different way. He makes me soft, I love him. That's all.

3. Woland, from The Master and Margarita. Look. It took me too long to read this book. But I loved it. It's so special. Woland isn't exactly my favorite character from the book, but I choose him because the concept of Satan, the ultimate symbol of evil, being actually a positive force in it's own way is incredibly interesting philosophically but also Woland and his entourage are just FUN!! And I love how goofy and not so harmlessly yet funnily evil they are.

4. Yennefer, from The Witcher (the Netflix adaptation). The more I think about her, the more I love her. There's so many layers to her and Anya Chalotra killed it. At first I thought she was a crazy obsessive b*tch but as time went by and the show progressed I got to understand her, and I keep reflecting on her character and finding new things. She is That Bitch, and I love her. So much. It's not that usual to finds such a complex, grey, and unapologetic female character. Also, I thought her desperately wanting to be a mother was a bullshitty patriarchal driven narrative but, actually? It makes so much sense within her character and I just... Ok I won't write a whole essaybon it but anyway. I love her.

5. Alphonse Elric, from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. Idk if he is my favorite FMA character, because I love so many of them. For example, May completely stole my heart. But Alphonse... There's a special strength in him and idk maybe he just reminds me of my little brother, but I love Alphonse and I want him to be happy and he deserves only good things. He is big, and big hearted, and soft, and clever, and caring. He and Ed make a very good balance and a perfect team.

6. Minerva McGonagall, from Harry Potter. She is the Baddie I'd like to be honestly. HP has grown with me, like so many others and I will always have a soft spot for it. Ms. McGonagall is one of my fav characters. I love her strenght, her motherly authority, her combination of hard and soft. She is a Bad Bitch and I'm sure she had soooo much fun when she was young. Plus she is a teacher, and I LOVE teachers in general.

7. Hector, from the Iliad. Along with Andromache, he's one of my favorite mythical characters. I just love him and how Homer portrays him (aand Andromache) in the Iliad kills me everytime. He is good, he is a family man, he is soft and wants peace but he's willing to spill blood to protect his family and do what he believes to be right. It's so goddamm tragic, and I'm a sucker for tragedy. I think he is pretty much the ultimate hero because he didn't start conflict, yet assumed responsibility, he faced his destiny, he was a loving man and a good leader, husband, son and brother. And yet, of course, he did terrible things because you know, it's war and all. Also, I think his name is just beautiful. Finally, he was a bottom and yes you can look for it.

8. Megara, from Hercules. My favorite Disney princess -along with Mulan. Megara is mature, she has suffered a lot, yet she learns how to open her heart again, and despite being hurt, she is willing to give it all for love again. Which might be stupid, but it's also certainly brave. She is sassy and sexy and she knows it and I love how unlike many other Disney characters she isn't really a young girl and this is her coming of age story. Rather than that, Meg is already a grown woman, who struggles and learns and evolves, but is nevertheless an adult in every sense of the word. She is not innocent, and that is refreshing in a love interest in a movie aimed at children.

9. Margaery Tyrell, from Game of Thrones. I watched like 4 seasons of this show and didn't bother to watch the rest though I followed what happened via spoilers. Look. There were many good characters, but I just LOVED Margaery so much. She is young, ambitious, cunning, incredibly clever, but she is rarely cruel. She is gracious, she wants power but she knows its dangers as well so she doesn't let herself be carried away with it. I also, of course loved Olenna, and Margaery was definitely her best student of sorts. Also, Margaery was rather kind, and everyone loved her. She had that thing going on with Sansa and all I can say is Yes Baby, Go!

10. Samwise Gamgee, from Lord of the Rings. I don't need to say anything else about this. There are many heroes in this story, but he strikes me the most. He is so full of love. I just love tenderness.

Doing this list I found out that, though I can name a favorite charcter within a show or book, I can basery think of 10 characters from different media to include in a list like this lol. As you all see, I just love soft and kind characters. It doesn't mean I don't like villains and evil shitheads, but my softest spot is for the softest characters.

I tag: @cukibola @viragosouls @marwoood @levcosia @ravenalghul @pynchmee @frenchmurdock @epic-summaries @hypatia-e @maskedlady

[wlwinry]

that summer breeze (the way it’s calling me)

okay so ik ive got like seven other unupdated wips but lemme just. lemme just start another one. it’s an edwin tangled au and ed’s rapunzel and winry's the thief and it’s gonna be stupid and cute and sad y’all ready? y’all ready.

chapter list:

prologue: you are here!

chapter one: here

summary: 

All good stories start with once upon a time. Not this one. This one begins with a lost prince, the sun, a thief, and a birthday. Throw in some glowing lanterns, a tower, tragic backstories on all sides and plenty of budding romance, and now you’ve got a thief in love with a prince-who-doesn’t-know-he’s-a-prince, magic galore--

And of course, seventy feet of magic glowing hair.

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

Once upon a time, there was a god, and a kingdom. No, wait—that’s too cliché.

              This is the story of how I died.

              Now, don’t worry! This is actually a very fun story, a little bit wacky, honestly, and it has a happy ending, I promise. It’s going to be loads of fun—but just, spoiler alert, right? I die at the end, and I’m not even the main character, so there’s no need to worry. But let’s start from the beginning. The proper beginning. With the source of all life.

              Our story begins with the sun. The god of the sun, to be precise, and the Kingdom of Xerxes. For you see, the royal bloodline of Xerxes was tied to sun magic. Half of those with royal blood, particularly the heirs to the kingdom, could wield it in some capacity, whether it was to heal, to protect, or to destroy. And among that half…among that half were a rare few who had so much magic, so much power that they were considered the children of the god itself. A single touch could heal a wound, their voices could turn barren wastelands into lush forests, and their fury could burn kingdoms to ash. There was only one every five generations, and these rare sun-wielders were called Sunspeakers.

              And it just so happened that one of the princes of Xerxes was a Sunspeaker.

              The eldest son of King Van Hohenheim and Queen Trisha Elric was legendary even before his tale truly unfolded. The Queen had fallen sick with a deadly illness, but the unborn child’s magic had healed her from the inside out. Against all odds, she survived—and gave birth to a healthy (if small) baby boy with eyes and hair of gold. This on its own wouldn’t mean much, as the king had the same coloring, but when touched by the sun…

              The boy glowed. Winding patterns covered his skin, like golden ivy, swirling over the skin of a child who had no idea what power he wielded—the power of a god. Immortality, eternal life, the ultimate weapon…all contained in the tiny body of an infant.

              Lesser rulers would have considered him a weapon of defense. Lesser parents would have used him to rise above their proverbial station. But the king and queen never considered either of those things for a moment, taking one look at their son and deciding that his power changed nothing. He was their son, their beloved child, and they would love him and raise him just the same as they would have otherwise. The kingdom rejoiced at the birth of their Sunspeaker prince, and on his first birthday, the two rulers lit a lantern and launched it into the sky to celebrate.

              But not all who learned of the prince’s power were good at heart. A man long-since banished from Xerxes, who sought eternal life, who sought the power of gods, learned about the birth of a new Sunspeaker and selfishly wanted the boy’s power for himself. One night, while the king and queen were sleeping, he broke into the castle—and upon seeing that the stories were true, stole the child, and vanished without a trace.

              He took the child far, far away, to a tower deep in a forest beyond the kingdom’s borders, and hid him away. At first, he tried to make him use his power immediately, to teach him how to destroy, but after the child burned away his own leg, he ceased. He taught the child a healing spell that would keep him alive and imbue him with strength, tricked him into believing his missing leg came from a wound inflicted by bandits who wanted to use his magic for wicked purposes. To control him, he led him to believe that his power was tied to his hair, never allowing him to cut it for fear that he’d “lose his magic”…and never, ever letting him leave the tower, convincing him of the terrible things that waited outside.

              But the boy grew curious, as all children do. Distracted himself with painting and books and baking, whatever he could get his hands on, but his gaze would always turn to the window that was his only connection to the outside world. He would wander to the sill, stand on it and lean out into the sun, drinking in the light, the feel of the wind on his face—but every time, his eyes would fall to the empty space where his leg should’ve been, and he’d remember what waited outside. The monsters that wanted his magic, the cruel selfish world that would take his hopes and dreams and desires and crush them without thinking twice. And he would step back, staring down at the world that waited below the tower’s one entrance, before closing the shutters and hiding away.

                Except for one night a year.

              Except for his birthday.

              Because the king and queen, even after years went by and the boy’s little brother was born, never forgot the son they’d loved and lost. They mourned him, and kept looking for him, desperate to find their beloved child—and their youngest ended up taking up the search, eager to find the big brother he’d never known. But that part of the story comes much, much later, long after eighteen years of watching lights soar up into the sky when his father was fast asleep.

              Just like they did when he was born.

              Every year, without fail, no matter what their kingdom was facing, no matter what illnesses befell them, the king and queen would launch a lantern into the sky, like a single, shining star calling him home. And every year without fail, the kingdom joined in, from the highest-ranking noble to the lowliest beggar, and lifted a lantern into the air for their little lost prince. Praying that he would see them, and know they were for him. Know that they hadn’t given up on their Sunspeaker prince yet, and never would.

              On that night, every year, the boy would sneak out of his bedroom and over to the windowsill, opening the shutters oh-so quietly so his father wouldn’t hear. He’d sit on the sill, leg dangling over the side, watching and waiting for the floating lights to drift into view. He’d watch until they faded, entranced by shimmering colors and the fact that a world so cruel, so cold, could make something so beautiful—and he couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, the lights were meant for him. But every time he brought it up, and begged to see them, even just from the cliffs above the valley, he was shut down.

              Brutally. Coldly, as his father seemed to do many things, flip-flopping from kind and warm to cruel in seconds. Slowly, he stopped asking, until he gave up on the thought of seeing the floating lights entirely. Until, well…

              Me.

              Eighteen years went by, the boy unwittingly feeding his father’s power and growing more and more hollow, the kingdom growing more and more hopeless, and in the middle of it all, there was a crown. The boy’s crown. Protected day and night, beautiful and intricate, and most importantly, worth a fortune.

              So perhaps the prequel starts with the sun…but the story really starts with a thief, a crown, and the boy it belonged to.

              As for what happened next, well, you’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?

[thepoisonroom]

okay in reddie whos the an and whos the sb?

okay i had no idea this was even up for debate but i have opinions and here they are:

let’s say we’re working directly off of the definitions given in the original niche post, so:

a sweaterboy “is stable [and] settled. the sweaterboy lives within a familiar pattern, and is, in all likelihood, highly competent at what they do. but is the sweaterboy happy? fuck no, dude! [...] the sweaterboy thinks that this is what relationships — of any kind — should look like: giving and giving and giving, and never actually asking for what they want. Because that would be selfish. the sweaterboy would never want to burden anyone; the sweaterboy, deep down, fears very much that they are a burden”

an absolute nightmare “is someone who has entirely rejected the task of trying to conform to societal norms. they know they don’t fit in. they know they’re not like everybody else. and while they are outwardly bold and defiant and confident, they’re often very lonely. they internalize their issues; they may be mistaken for aloof and uncaring when, in fact, they have big feelings”

let’s discuss the book evidence. we have:

eddie “needed to be protected from his own dim intimations of possible bravery” kaspbrak. lives under his mom’s thumb for years and years because he’s been taught to fear what will happen if he steps out of line even a little! his internal fear of being different, which i would argue is heavily mapped to his sexuality, is externalized in his fear of disease and especially in his fear of sexually-transmitted infection. he tries being a regular straight dude with a wife and a nine to five that he excels at but he’s deeply unhappy with it! he’s replicating what he knows as normalcy (i.e. maladaptive relationship patterns from his childhood) in a desperate attempt to conform which is some CLASSIC sweaterboy bullshit. eddie isn’t your conventional sweaterboy because his definition of what the aspirational norm looks like is so deeply colored by his hypochondria, so as readers we still register him as abnormal, but in his own way he’s trying to live the lifestyle that was prescribed for him that he associates with his mother (fearful, straight, cautious). 

i think the thing that hammers this home the most for me is book Eddie’s relationship with surveillance and being watched. the book repeatedly makes the point that eddie’s personality and self-image are directly contingent on being watched, and who’s doing it. the text makes the argument that eddie when he’s being watched by his friends, or when he’s alone, is fundamentally different from eddie being watched by people who enact violent mechanisms of social control (e.g. bullies who beat him up for not conforming, or his mother who inflicts medicalized violence on him whenever he steps out of line). we get a pretty unambiguous statement of this in the flashback where eddie remembers his gym teacher having an argument with his mother:

“i have the results of eddie’s last physical on file […] it says that eddie is a little small for his age, but otherwise he’s absolutely normal […] he loves to play games, and he runs quite fast […] when there’s nobody around to remind him of how delicate he is”

basically, eddie lives with this constant awareness of how authority figures in his life want him to be, and he conforms when they’re watching him, for the most part. this is how he can be totally capable of the same physical activities as other children and still buy into his mother’s insistence that he’s delicate and constantly ill; he has internalized that surveillance until it’s unconscious/second nature to replicate the behavior that’s expected of him. we also see this focus on surveillance when eddie talks about how he loves bill because he never calls him homophobic slurs, the implication being that other boys their age do. with his friends, eddie can let go of that internal voyeur that watches and polices his actions to make sure that he’s not behaving in a way that might invite unwanted negative attention. you actually see little flashes of this in the scene where ben meets eddie and bill and eddie has a bloody nose from talking back to some bullies! eddie by himself or with his friends is a brave little motherfucker in a world that’s determined to make him afraid (of himself, of the consequences of abnormality, of his sexuality)! i love him so much! but anyway!

basically, eddie spends his entire childhood and most of his adult life trying to bend himself into a shape that’s as small and unassuming and inoffensive as possible. he associates any deviation from the norm with sickness and lives in fear of what it would mean to be different in any way. stephen king literally doesn’t deserve rights but his scene of eddie cataloguing and packing the contents of his medicine cabinet after mike calls him? that’s a goddamned fucking portrait of the iron fist with which many deeply closeted gays try to control their lives. i’m not a hypochondriac but the worst years for my ocd happened when i was trying my hardest to avoid coming out to myself. the mechanism of control varies, but it all comes down to a desperate conviction that something unspeakably terrible will happen if you don’t enact all these horribly specific rituals to protect yourself. eddie’s mechanisms are pills and his inhaler and his marriage and i’m literally going to stop bleeding myself dry writing this oh my god i projected a little too hard there sorry.

anyway: richie “sometimes enchanting, often exhausting charm” tozier. gets beat up constantly because he canNOT stop himself from saying every fuckass thing that comes to his head! he’s whipsmart and observant as fuck and can’t keep it to himself and that gets him singled out by the bullies! i don’t have the exact quote but roll the clip of the part where it talks about richie’s face begging to be bent into new and interesting shapes by bullies ANYWAY. richie is someone who knows he doesn’t fit in and has given up on the task of pretending to! sometimes he’s charming and funny! sometimes he’s exhausting and weird as shit! but that’s absolute nightmarism babey!

the thing that really gets me about richie is that he’s subject to exactly the same normative surveillance as eddie and he canNOT keep himself from telling his audience to fuck off! we see flashes of this when richie hesitates before touching bill for fear that someone might see them and subject them to homophobic harassment. but he touches him anyway! yeah he looks surreptitiously but he touches him anyway! like richie is guided by feelings of deep love and devotion to his friends and he can’t help but express that and wow i’m getting emotional about richie too anyway!

richie as an adult is someone who is weird as shit for attention, but it’s a performance that deflects from his issues being emotionally vulnerable, which is classic AN. the movie got this so right with the part where richie admits he threw up after mike called him, and then tells the other losers he’s glad that they’re there together. like, everyone is shocked because this is a moment of deep vulnerability and sincerity from someone who’s performatively larger than life in order to keep people at a distance. the 2017 movie gives us this with richie deflecting the conversation about their fears by asking stan if the woman from the painting was hot, and again when he says that his biggest fear is clowns, a claim that is NOT borne out by what he sees inside niebolt. richie is, in short, someone who’s comfortable with attention but NOT with scrutiny; he isn’t ready to be seen with all of his vulnerabilities on display, so he puts on a show for people to look at instead. that’s the core of absolute nightmarism. it’s a committed performance of weirdness that’s intended to telegraph invulnerability, but a tightly controlled one that’s meant to ensure that people only look where you want them to. it’s a magic act that shows you something shiny so you won’t glance at where the soft spots are hidden. eddie wants you to look away because there’s nothing to see here, richie wants you to look but only at what he shows you.

i think the thing that cements it for me is the book content about richie’s nicknames for eddie. richie is SUPER demonstrative with eddie and is constantly calling him goofy nicknames and telling him he’s cute. but we get that great quote about how eddie hated being called eds, but sort of liked it too, because it was like a secret identity. that’s the core of the dynamic, imo. the absolute nightmare helps draw the sweaterboy out of their devotion to normalcy and emboldens them to be the version of themselves that they are without the outside pressures of authority and heteronormativity and whatever. the dynamic is book eddie wanting to be the person he is with his friends, the eds of it all, and it’s also book eddie fighting off a panic attack because he has to be brave when the losers need him, and it’s also movie eddie directly attacking pennywise because he’s been reminded of his own “dim intimations of possible bravery” like! i could go on but this is so fucking long anyway yes i think eddie is the SB and richie is the AN now roll the clip of the part where richie asks eddie if he knows what fucking is and eddie is like OF COURSE I DO and the text is like “he hoped he wasn’t blushing” like that’s the dynamic babe