#especially the ones who had been Begging FOR a mush fight for years.

[water-mellie-seeds]

I like that the prince mush boss fight is unfairly hard. Btw. I think it makes sense AND i like it

[thebruno65]

What if Future arc had exactly two more characters? (Sato AU)

Kameyoshi Sato:

He is a cold, emotionless and heartless guy who has prefered logic thinking over emotional one, or at least on the outside: Kameyoshi wears a shock wrist collar in which, everytime he shows an emotion/too much of it, he gets shocked.

The reason he berates and hates Haruka as mush as he does, is because before she was part of the family, he had another sister that he unfoetunately lost to a car accident back when he was around 6. So the Sato family decided to adopt Haruka Sakakura from the Sakakura family.

When he met her, he saw her sister on her, but he wanted to deny it, he wanted to deny that someone could replace her. So he berates and talks bad to her as a coping mechanism and denyalism.

Haruka Sato:

Juzo's biological sister and Kameyoshi's adopted one. Haruka has humbled herself throughout the years of the tragedy, but she still has some anger issues and coldness in herself. But she is now nicer and more understandable in terms of mental issues.

She gets extremely mad and somewhat jealous when her brother acts nicer to people around them more than her. Its more or less because she never got the same treatment of him.

Which is why she has a little grudge on Seiko, not because she doesnt like him, but because she gets treated better than her. Same with Makoto as Kameyoshi praised him for his hope, but she changed her mind abt him after he did what he did and both of their opinions switched.

Plot:

Both Haruka and Kameyoshi survive the tragedy, Haruka survives after going into hiding and switching schools for the murder of Natsumi. And Kameyoshi because he got involved with the Seiko-Ruruka fight by defending Seiko and saying it must have been a set-up against her.

Since they weren't at HPA, neither would get involved in its tragedy in it. And eventually would get scouted and join the Future Foundation, with Kameyoshi as the lead head and Haruka as his assistant.

They help the foundation with the capturing of the ROD members; they're the ones that capture Mahiru, Hiyoko and Ibuki, much to Haruka's distain and heartbreak.

Of course, they also have to be part of Makoto's trial, while originally Kameyoshi was the only one supposed to be there, Haruka begged him to go too as she also wanted to know the rods fates. He reluctantly agreed after a lot of time.

Their views on what they should do to the ROD members are, of course, opposite of each other:

Kameyoshi wants to exterminate all of them since they were the cause of his parents death, but he excuses it as they are just a big threat. And immediately agrees with Juzo and especially Seiko to execute Makoto for that.

While Haruka wants to keep them alive and sides with Makoto since Mahiru is part of that group. But she is obviously shunned since she is not only an assistant, but they bring up the fact that she was a reserve course student which signified how little important she is in the foundations vocal opinions.

Everything goes the same until after Daisaku's death where they all split up. Kamayoshi gord with Seiko since they are both, surpisingly, good friends. He was originally going to make Haruka accompany them, but he saw that she escaped and left when Kyoko threw the fire extinguisher. After Seiko dies in the second time limit, he temporarily teams up with Kyosuke and Juzo to hunt down Makoto's group, as all of them have someone theyre against in that group.

Haruka joins Makoto's group before the first time limit comes on, when they're blocking the entrance. At first they're skeptical of her, but she reminds them that Mahiru was her best friend and that she is on Makoto's side. She stays with them until her death, where Kameyoshi activates her NG code by shooting her in the stomach, which the bracelet classifies the bullet as a weapon.

After she berates Kamayoshi in her last breath like how she treated strangers better than her, and that its obvious she'll never be like her (Kamayoshi's biological sister) and that she thought that he had some heart left, but she seemed like she was wrong. He decides to put the gun in his mouth and, with the last bullet, shoots himself.

[youhadmeatfanfics]

Dragon Lord x gn! Reader

A/n: It’s been at least 6 years since I’ve written fanfiction. So I’m pretty rusty and the grammar might not be great. But I hope you guys enjoy!(Please let me know if I got something wrong!)

Tw: fluff, slight cursing, injury, slight spoilers if you haven’t finished the main story.

Word count: 1817

This journey has been hell, especially when Tina decided to GET RID OF THE FUCKING OCEAN. Now I have to walk instead; Why the hell couldn’t we keep the ocean? It would have made things easier but it’s Tina. What can you expect? Hearing those three are something else, but at least they’re entertaining. Someone would beg to differ though.

As I was walking along the bottom of the Nocean, I went a bit off road to just sit down and take a breather. But as I was enjoying my peace and quiet time, the Dragon Lord wanted to ruin that. “You finally taking a break, Fatemaker? I’m surprised, since you seem to like playing this role so much.” He suddenly said out of nowhere. Well, goodbye sweet silence. “So what? Everyone needs a break here and there. Especially when I’m on a quest to save the world from you.” I responded. “Save the world from me? I am honored, Fatemaker.” He joked. “Sure you are, horns.” I said in a sarcastic voice. “Horns? Who are you calling horns?!” He yells in a ‘How dare you’ way. “Who do you think?” “My name is not Horns, it’s Dragon Lord.” “Ok, but I like horns.” I reply and he went quiet.

For a moment, I thought I offended him and thought he was gonna send some enemies my way. I was about to apologize but he spoke first, “Whatever, call me what you want. Just don’t say it in front of people.” He finally responded back. Relieved, I smiled and nodded. “Alright, Horn!” I said happily and got up to set up camp. We continue to have a small conversation while I set up camp and after I was done. I took a well deserved sleep.

*Time-skip*

‘This is bad!’ I thought in a panic. I’ve had many battles but this one is becoming a bit too much for me. Skeletons, seawargs and coiled all around me. Too many enemies at once. How am I gonna make this?

As I swing my weapon to the nearest enemy to at least push it back from me, a skeleton suddenly grabbed my left arm. As I turn my focus to the skeleton, a seawarg appears from behind me. How did I not notice this big bastard?! Before I had anytime to react, the seawarg slashed my right side with its sharp claws. I scream out in pain and fall on my butt. The skeleton that’s still holding my arm was about to strike again, but I was quicker this time. I block his attack and was able to finish him off with a final swing. The seawarg was about to attack again, but I slice him from below to above. Catching the seawarg off guard and knocking it to its side. I rush to cover as I hold my side, trying to stop the blood as mush as I can. But the pain was so excruciating that it made it more difficult to put pressure on it. I then hear more enemies approaching me. ‘I won’t survive if I stay and fight with this injury. I have to escape!” I thought in a panic as I looked around for an escape route. I found one and I made a dash for it. I was able to escape the area and make pretty good distance from them. Unfortunately, the adrenaline was slowly leaving me. I was becoming extremely tired and there was more blood coming out of my injury. I sat down, panting from sheer exhaustion.

‘I can barely move and I’m so tired. I have to take care of this injury, if I don’t, I’ll die in my sleep from blood loss.’ I thought, but I couldn’t move my hands anymore. I just sat there, holding my right side. Then I heard a voice. “Fatemaker…are you ok?” Asked the Dragon Lord in a concerned voice, which surprised me but I was more focused on staying awake. “I’m…fine. Just a little scratch…no worries.” I assured him while panting slightly. “Oh, yeah, sure. Just a little scratch. Definitely not a giant claw injury that’s the size of your head that’s full of blood!!” He said in a very sarcastic tone, but there was a hint of worry in his voice that I caught. “Horns, please, don’t yell right now.” I cried, hoping that he would not yell anymore. “Sorry, but that is not just a simple scratch.” he apologized, “You need to bandage that quickly before it get infected or you’ll die of blood loss.” He stated.

Why is he so worried about me?

“Why do you care? You’re my enemy. I thought you were supposed to hate me and laugh when I get heavily injured.” I snapped at him. “Why are you worried about me?” I said in a much softer tone than I did before. He stayed quiet after that. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just this damn wound is-“ before I could finish my sentence, I suddenly felt lightheaded. I heard movement in front of me, like something was swerving, then it stopped. I wanted to look up but my eyelids were so heavy that I could barely keep them open. Then I heard footsteps coming towards me. Panic was setting in, someone found me. Are they an enemy or ally? I try to at least get up but all I can do is begin to fall on my side. As I was about to fall to the floor, an arm suddenly grabbed me before I fell. Whoever showed up saved me from further damage. The stranger sat me back down as I was before and I felt…safe. The second that feeling of relief hit me I was out like a light.

I woke up with a nice breeze on my face. I could feel the warmth of the sun around me, but not on my skin. Something was shading me from the Sun. I slowly open my eyes, I look around to see where I was. I remember what happened before I passed out. Fighting, bad injury, shelter, foot steps, arms and passing out.

.

.

.

Wait

.

.

.

As I fully remember what happened, I now feel an arm that is wrapped around me. I look to right and see the last person I thought I would see next to me like this.

Dragon Lord

Right next to me…asleep.

My eyes widen in shock to see him here. Shouldn’t he be at his pyramid? Why is he here? Wait…why is his arm around me?! But not only that, his wing was around me as well!

I look down to see my right side bandaged up. Same with some other minor wounds around me. Did he do this? Why did he help me? I was gonna loose my mind if I kept asking questions like this. So instead, I gently nudged him to wake him up. ‘Holy shit, he’s tall.’ I though in amazement.

He finally wakes up after I nudged him a couple of times. He opened his eyes and looked around for a bit until his eyes landed on me. It took him a second to register that it’s me and his eyes widen in shock. We both stayed there, staring at each other. The shock leaves my body and the flood of questions barge in. But I try to keep my cool and decided to ask only a few. “Did you patch me up?” I stupidly asked, who else would it be? But I needed to make sure. It took him a couple of seconds to respond since he still a bit stunned. “Uh…yes. I bandaged your wound.” He replied. I don’t know why, but relief spread throughout my body. He looked down to his arm still wrapped around me and he instantly pulled away. I frowned a bit but I quickly put on a smile. “Well, thank you. I would’ve died if you didn’t.” I beamed, “But, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you?” I asked. That question stunned him a bit. “I…don’t know,” he said looking down to the ground, “When I saw you in so much pain. Something in me was trying to reach out to you.” He finished. I was so…I don’t even think the words shocked or stunned even compare to what I’m feeling right now. He…genuinely wanted to help me? “I couldn’t just let you die there. Even thought you would’ve most likely come back, I still had this strong feeling to save you.” He added with so much honesty in his voice. I couldn’t believe it. I smile as my face softened, “Thank you for saving me, Horns.”

He looked at me in surprise and also a bit of annoyance. “You’re…welcome.” I gave him a bright smile and sat closer to him. He was stunned but slowly put his arm and wing around me once again. We stayed there in comfortable silence for a while until I spoke first.

“You know Horns, I never hated you. I actually was really interested. Yeah I was kinda mad that you killed Butt Stallion, but I was still happy that you stayed and talked with me. You’re really funny and interesting to talk to.” I confessed. “You’re weird.” “Not as much as you.” I snapped back and he laughed. “I don’t hate you either. Actually, I’ve been trying to save everyone from Tina. Even you.” He confessed. “Save us from Tina? Why?” I mean, I could understand why. But it can’t be that bad, right? “It’s best I don’t tell you right now. But I will soon. I don’t want to ruin this.” I raise an eyebrow. “Ruin what?” I asked curiously and he looked away. It took me a second to realize what he was talking about.

He didn’t want to ruin this moment with me.

But does he mean this as a peaceful moment or more? I decided to test it. I waited for the right moment to strike. When I thought the moment was right, I leaned up and gave him a soft, long kiss on the cheek. He froze at my action. I pull away and look at him. Once he snapped out of it, he looked down, bashful. “Can you do that again?” I’ve never imagine I would hear him say that so shyly!

I smile brightly and nod. “Of course, Horns!” I wrap my arms around his neck and give him lots of kisses. He pulls me closer to him and I finally get my answer. I give him one final kiss next to his lips. I sit on his lap and lean on him. He holds me close to him, so gentle and caring. While being careful of my wound. I was gonna fall asleep until, “You need to come up with a better nickname.” He said while smirking as I laughed.

[thefirsttree]

A personal update + my next game

OK, time to do this. I’ve been meaning to do a big DAVID WEHLE™ update for a while now and explain why I haven’t released a new game yet, but you know how life gets in the way. Especially when life is a quarantine hellscape, you have three beautiful, amazing, exhausting kids to raise, a spouse’s job you support, a viral YouTube channel that turns your brain to mush, a thousand emails waiting in your inbox since your game is free on the Epic Games Store (with an impressive number of redemptions too! … meaning lots of emails and customer support issues), etc., etc. What also contributes to my lack of updates is because… I just don’t really like posting online. Fascinating correlation, I know!

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a venting/ranting blog post (well, maybe a bit), because my life is seriously AMAZING and INSANELY BLESSED and LUCKY. I can’t believe how many dreams keep coming true, so much so that I feel I don’t deserve it and I really pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes… but I did want to at least be honest, because I owe that to myself.

Wow, where do I even begin? Well, how about we start with the reason I’m even a full-time indie game dev now: The First Tree. This small hobby project I worked on at night morphed into this gargantuan beast (or fox) that took over my life the past 5 years. Which is great! I’m living the dream! And yet, I really didn’t expect it to do as well as it did. At its core, my game is a slow-paced, sad walking simulator (ahem, I prefer the term “exploration game,” but you know what I mean) that somehow seemed to launch at the right time to the right audience. It resonated deeply with some of you, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I still get emails almost daily how my game changed their lives in some formative way. I’m beyond honored.

However, with that spotlight came criticism and demands from the ever-present, insatiable internet. I would randomly be surfing the gamedev subreddit trying to decompress, and I would see a comment by some rando saying how much I didn’t deserve my success, and how it was all one huge lucky fluke. And I believed them!

And to add to it, some devs considered me an indie marketing “guru”, which I was uncomfortable with. I worked hard to market my game every week, and after my GDC talk, people assumed marketing was my passion; the reason I got up every morning. Just to clarify… NO, I don’t like marketing, and I hate being the center of attention. I don’t like asking people for money and wishlists. But I did what was necessary because I was passionate about telling stories, and I wanted to give my story a fighting chance to be seen on the crowded pages of Steam.

So now, you’re probably wondering “well then David, why did you make fancy YouTube videos showing off your success? Not very modest if you ask me.” This honestly could be a long blog post all on its own, because my experience of putting myself in the spotlight and becoming a “content creator” is… complicated. It was an unusual step for me, especially since I never even showed my face online (as a game developer) until my GDC talk.

First off, I always wanted to teach and start a YouTube channel. I love video editing, especially since I’ve been doing it longer than making games! It’s a huge passion of mine. And teaching people who didn’t know they could make and finish games was a huge motivator (and it’s been so rewarding already). But the second reason is, I was scared. I was self-employed, and I was riding the success of a “huge lucky fluke” that would probably not happen again. I wanted to make sure I could provide for my amazing family, and give them food and health insurance and security in these tumultuous times. I was turning my lifelong passions and hobbies into a business, and it wasn’t as simple of a mental transition as I thought.

So, I went all in on YouTube and the accompanying online course called Game Dev Unlocked. I spent years editing the scripts and videos, and polishing them to a shine. At first, no one watched my videos, no one was buying… and in the blink of an eye, the YouTube algorithm picked up my main autobiographical video (“How Making Indie Games Changed My Life”), and I started getting 5,000 subscribers a day. Right now, I’m at 150,000 subs, which is still hard for me to believe. I always had a dream of earning 100k subs on YouTube, so I was pretty happy with the whole thing. Sales were OK, but mostly people didn’t want to buy the course. Then the emails came in…

Something you should know about me: I am a textbook “people pleaser,” and if someone asks for my help, I take it very seriously. If someone is mad at me, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all I can think about, and it ruins my day. So, taking an onslaught of people begging for help and multiplying that by an impossible amount of people for my brain to truly comprehend thanks to the internet… and let’s just say it wasn’t a healthy mix.

I received thousands of emails from people who were begging me for some kind of reassurance that everything would be OK. That their dreams would come true too. And I wanted to help every single one of them. I went from a nobody working on a game for fun to becoming a spokesperson for the indie game dream. I couldn’t even get a shake from the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru without someone recognizing me and asking for game dev advice. And it didn’t stop there… I would get emails from suicidal kids asking for help, teenagers from Afghanistan asking me to get them out of their country, and on one occasion I received an email from a hopeful game developer in a war-torn country who had just experienced a bomb blowing up their neighboring village. His friends were dead, and he was hoping he could finish a game before he died too, and he needed my help. How do you say no to something like that? Didn’t I owe it to everyone because I was lucky with my hit game and I needed to “pay it forward”? (Something people constantly reminded me of)

And then to top it off, after you’ve given everything you’ve got to other people in need… you get hate mail in your inbox. You spend the whole day serving your children and strangers on the internet, then when the kids are finally asleep, you hit the bed to relax and take a look at your phone to decompress, and you randomly come across an angry gamer in your Twitter mentions telling you your game they got for free sucks, and that you took away a potentially great game from them and that your apology isn’t good enough.

Long story short, I went to a mental therapist for the first time in my life. I was broken trying to care for two toddlers and a new baby in a pandemic (which is very, very hard), taking care of my course students who gave me their hard-earned money and demanded results, and the countless people begging for help on the internet. I was this introverted, internet-lurker trying to take on the weight of the world. I was so tired and hurt that no one cared about me and my needs… only what I could do for them.

Quitting my day job and making this hobby my full-time job has stirred up… mixed emotions. This statement may disturb some of you, but I was definitely 100% happier when I had a full-time job and I was working on my game at night. I missed working with the amazing team at The VOID, working on Star Wars… back when the success of my game was this abstract thing I could only daydream about. Mostly, I was making my game for me with no outside expectations to pay the bills or satisfy the ever-demanding internet, and that brought me a lot of joy.

It’s not all doom and gloom though! I’m actually very happy now and in the best shape I’ve been since the pandemic started. I’ve had to confront my weaknesses and personality quirks, but I’m a better person for it (and I’m sure these issues would’ve come out eventually). I hired an awesome community manager for Game Dev Unlocked who is helping SO MUCH with the emails, I can’t even tell you the mental burden it alleviates. I even leased a co-working office to help separate work from my home, and that’s been a huge help too. I’ve decided to work with my old friends from The VOID on a cool, new VR experience. It will take me away from my projects a bit, but I’m ecstatic to work with a great team again (and not manage anything, whew).

These are all things I would’ve never guessed I needed, because I thought I knew myself pretty well… turns out I didn’t.

The reality is: running a business is HARD. Running it solo is even harder. You have to remember, I was burnt out on The First Tree well into the Steam release in 2017, but I kept working on it for 4 more years due to my fears of failing again and not earning enough money for my family.

So, I was wrestling with the age-old concept of commercialism and art. There was this dichotomy of doing whatever I wanted and being true to my vision (what most people assume the indie dev dream is like), and doing only what customers wanted to buy. This is something that has killed me with YouTube… in one specific instance, I was super excited to make the exact video I wanted to make. I loved every part of its creation, and I thought it had a message that would inspire everyone. I lovingly edited it over several weeks, posted it, and excitedly waited for the stats… and it was by far my worst performing video.

This is not a new problem. Even the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo was a commission forced upon him by the very violent Pope Julius II. My wife and I regularly talk about the fine balance between artistic integrity and commercialism, a problem she is very familiar with as an artist who constantly needs to balance what she wants to make with what the customer wants to hang up in their home.

For The First Tree, I was lucky. It was pretty much what I wanted to make (I had to compromise a lot of things of course), and it turned out millions of people wanted it too. Recently, I thought the safe business decision would be to do it all over again, so I started work on a spiritual successor to The First Tree (an idea that I may revisit one day since I do love the story idea). But that isn’t happening anytime soon. Trust me when I say I am now currently burnt out on animal exploration games.

So that realization left me with a question: what do I do next?

I’ve decided I need to make a game that I want to make, for me. It will be a bit different and I’m almost certain most fans of The First Tree will not love it… but it’s an idea that gets me super excited. It’s an idea that could help me fall in love with game development again.

A few more details: this game will be story-driven, first-person, and will use the Unreal Engine. That means development is gonna be slow going, because I have to learn a whole new tool. The “smart business” decision would be to make something quickly in Unity which I’m already familiar with… but I want to do this for me, and UE5 looks like a lot of fun. I’m also shooting for an early-ish release date so I avoid burn out and I keep the game short: I want to release it in Fall 2022, but knowing game development, it will probably take longer.

With the help of my therapist, I’ve also concluded that I’ve been too accessible on the internet and that my self-worth isn’t determined by the amount of people I try to help online. Of course, I love helping people and seeing them succeed, but I need to step back and focus on my family and myself. I will delete my social media apps on my phone (I will still post big updates occasionally) and stop responding to most emails, tweets, DMs, etc. It’s not that I’m ungrateful… in fact, if I don’t say thank you or at least acknowledge the incredibly nice people who share a sweet message about my game or want to tell me how I inspire them (still hard for me to believe, lol), I feel a ton of guilt… but I need to let that go. Please know I’m extremely grateful to all the fans who follow my work, so even if I don’t thank you directly, I truly mean it: thank you.

I will still post and stream occasionally on YouTube when I want to (and I still do live Q&A’s for my GDU students). The online course sales will help support my family as I work on a potentially risky game idea (and my new job will help alleviate the risk too). I’m gonna try one more marketing experiment and sell a mini-course soon (and add an Unreal section), and after that I’m done working on it. A gigantic thank you to the people who bought my course and are part of the amazing community, it has helped me and my family tremendously, and it’s inspiring seeing the games you make!

I’m a bit worried about the whole thing since this new game idea could flop, which could definitely affect my family. But a sappy, high-school yearbook quote is coming to mind…  I think it applies here: “A ship in harbor is safe—but that is not what ships are built for.”

Thanks for reading,

David

[darthwheezely]

a change of heart - g.w.

summary: falling out of love was the last thing they had wanted.

pairing: muggle au!george weasley x reader

warnings: mentions of break ups, sex, cussing, ouid, heartbreak, no happy endings, apathetic!george, domestic fights, mean!reader (at times), insinuations of depression, toxic relationship

a/n: this is my first angst without a happy ending and honestly it feels very last 5 years to me and i was in a bad mood yesterday so this happened i love you all mwah xoxo

are we awake?

am i too old to be this stoned?

George blinked in what felt like slow motion at the crumbling ceiling above him as he took another long drag of his joint. He breathed out, his lungs and mind relaxing under a slimy green haze. The bed was spongey, destroyed from one too many sexual escapades and one night stands and full body tantrums that left him kicking and screaming.

His mind never really woke up after the day you packed up and took the bus downtown back to your parent’s. He usually laid there in a collapse of old cassette tapes and cannabis flecks, generally shirtless and wearing wear bleached boxers and lost.

George was never really awake after you.

was it your breasts from the start?

they played a part

You were stunning to him that day in London. You always were. That hadn’t been any different. But the day you walked into the pub everything about you just ached to be adored, he thought. He wanted to know what it was like to attach his mouth to the skin of your collar bone and nibble, knead at your breasts and have his fingers gripping your thighs the second you struck up a conversation.

“Two whiskeys and a beer later and I still don’t know your name,” he gave a little half smile and watched you bite your lip, a chuckle erupting from your throat.

“Y/N.”

“No last name?”

“Don’t need one, not yet anyway. You?”

He looked at you softly and nodded to himself.

“Let’s see if I can change that. I’m George.”

George needed you. Or at least, he thought he did.

for goodness’ sake

i wasn’t told you’d be this cold

He passed out on the couch, the old and relatively shitty TV left on static due to inactivity and refusal to be fixed.

You were supposed to have date night. At least, that’s what George thought. He knew you’d be out and about all day at work and then picking up dinner on the way home, but when you stumbled through the door at 2am, he shot awake. And in a flash of anger, he just picked up on the idea that date night didn’t really matter to you then, at least not tonight.

“Baby-“

“Don’t fucking baby me,” you had growled, looking at him with streaks of mascara running down your face. You sniffles and wobbled off to the bathroom, leaving an albeit confused George on the couch. He listened to you cry in the bathroom, and suddenly realized it didn’t matter if you were pissed at him or scared or whatever was happening.

At least you came home.

you smashed a glass into pieces

that’s around the time i left

“Fine,” you had shouted, picking up the now empty wine glass from the table and throwing it at the cabinets across from you.

The night had started off fine, the dinner was neutral - that had been your new normal with George. Neutral. You two weren’t really angry anymore, just tired. Until you both got in that heated argument and were screaming, the radio getting blown out your earshot due to the high intensity yelling in the room.

The minute the glass hit the cabinet you jumped ever so slightly, not really realizing you had done it, but knowing the lashing out of yourself had scared you just enough. You had let out a choking whimper and quickly enough, your boyfriend had rushed over to you and held you up.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed against his chest. “Georgie, I’m so sorry, please don’t be mad at me anymore.”

He knew you weren’t really apologizing for a wine glass, or missing a date or two. He knew it was everything, and the idea that you were getting blamed for it all in your mind due to things you didn’t feel safe telling him about crushed him.

“My sweet girl,” he cooed, his nose and mouth pressing into the top of your head.

He pulled off the top of your head, brushing the tears from underneath your eyes “I love you so much, and you can push me away as hard and as much as you want but I’ll come right back, every single time.”

You nodded and fell back into his arms, and George regrettably swallowed.

He had just made a promise he knew he wouldn’t keep.

then she said, "i’ve been so worried about you lately"

"you look shit and you smell a bit"

“George,” you had cleared your throat and sat up a bit straighter in the chair.

It had been approximately two months since he had pushed away from you, and since then you had heard radio silence from the man that had stolen your heart and left your mind mush. But here you were back in the apartment at the behest of Fred who had been, admittedly, “worried fuckin’ sick” about his younger twin.

The apartment was disgusting. Dishes from weeks left in the sink that had most likely caked mold and other major nastiness. Everywhere it smelled like cheap beer and even cheaper weed. It was nauseating to be at the dining room table, looking at the face that used to be George Weasley, but was now puffy, like he’d been getting over crying every single day, his eyes red rimmed and purpling, his usually pale but still vibrant skin tone sallow and raw.

“Georgie, they’re worried about you,” you said softly. He snorted and took another bite of his Ramen.

“George, you look shit, you’re just a-a shell, and your mom has no clue what’s going on, Fred can’t keep up with demands for the record store without you and god, everyone just misses you-“

“I’m fine, Y/N,” he cut. He clenched his jaw before finally looking back up at you, nodding ruefully to himself.

“You saw to it that I always was.”

i feel as though I was deceived

i never found love in the city

i just sat in self-pity and cried in the car

“Pass the damn thing, Fred, Jesus, you bong hog,” George playfully slapped his older brother on the chest. It was their best friend Roger’s nineteenth birthday, and as such, it was 4 in the morning, everyone either knackered as hell or making out in the corner. But Fred always opted to light up with George, especially since he knew it’d be the last time before the Big Move to the City as they referred to it.

“I am, I am, calm your tits, mate!” Fred had puffed into the air, sliding the bong to his brother and watching him inhale. He coughed, George always coughed - as much as he said he was the more mature and worldly one, he still got these little flashes that proved only to Fred that George was his baby brother.

“You know what I’m gonna do once we get to Londontown, Freddie-bomb?”

“What would that be, Georgie?” He smirked, leaning back against the couch. George grinned to himself and finally looked at Fred.

“I am going to find the most beautiful girl and marry her outright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. And she’s going to have the most gorgeous mind - her brain, y’know. And and we’ll talk about music and art and shit I don’t care sex and whatever the hell else she likes, and I’ll buy her flowers and perfume and pretend I know what I’m doing because I’m a dumb kid and hell, I’ll fall in love so fast...and I hope she does the same...”

George sat in his beat up old Volvo, took in a shaky breath, and started to sob. His fists delivered downward strikes against his steering wheel at his memories, the feelings of love and joy he knew were still there begging to be freed.

But for now, he’d cry.

oh, i just had a change of heart

The answering machine clicked on, the voicemail ringing through the silence in the bedroom. “Hey, Y/N...sweetheart, we - I - can’t do this anymore,”

i just had a change of heart

“It’s not your fault, baby, but...angel, we can’t do this anymore,”

i just had a change of heart

“I loved you so much and we’re killing each other and I-I couldn’t do anything to stop it except hope that it would pass one day, because we could always make it pass, we could do that,”

i just had a change of heart

“But baby, it’s time to...it’s time to stop. For now, at least until things are better - until we are better,”

i just had a change of heart

“Until we can fall back in love again...I just know we can.”

The machine stopped clicking.

taglist! @whizboingies @harrysweasleys @wandsandwheezes @valwritesx @lumosandnoxwriting @amxrtentias @mothermantids @cyliamarti @shakinganxiety @godricsswords @rosietoesy @jorduhnn @sinfulweasley @wand3ringr0s3 @jaywritesstuff0 @anchoeritic

[amphxtrite]

fred weasley x fem!reader

This is for @feetoffthetable ‘s 500 follower writing challenge. Congratulations again on 500!!

hope you like it.

prompts:

“What happened to their happily ever after?”

“Not all love stories get a happily ever after, sometimes it’s just once upon a time.”

warnings: angst, spelling/ grammar mistakes.

word count: 3.1k

tag list: @cupidpoison @marvelhoesworld @wonderful-writer

enjoy<3

__________________________________________

Almost every girl can remember the days where they’d dream of their fairytale romance. Dancing, a prince charming and a kiss in the moonlight as every problem faded away; A thrilling fight between the lovers and the evil villain ending with the two wrapped in each other’s arms. Despite being muggle tales, the wizarding world had also grown to adore these stories, smiles widening on even grown witches' faces with each ‘once upon a time.’

You’d grown up reading about maidens being swept off their feet into the arms of their knight in shining armor, fate seemed to encompass every story you laid your eyes on, so when Fred Weasley entered your life, with a charming smile and a playfulness that had you wanting more, you couldn’t help but fall.

And so began the pining. Stares across the classroom at the wave of red hair, crossing your fingers when group projects were announced, peeking down corridors to see if you could catch the prankster twins in action, and daydreaming from dawn till dusk. You could barely get words past your lips if he ever smiled in your direction. You found yourself wondering what it would feel like to run your hand through his hair. Doodling his name on parchment became common, and dreams of dancing with him plagued your mind. You were young, and in love. You could almost feel your fairy godmother pushing you towards him, fairy tale magic coursing through your veins whenever your eyes would meet.

It took a couple years, but you found your voice. Starting small with congratulations after quidditch games, an occasional joke during classes, a couple more smiles here and there.

The unrequited love, became returned. Fred Weasley thought you were just the shy girl from his transfiguration class, quiet and meek. When you built up the confidence to strike up conversations and joke about Snape’s hair, he found himself hanging onto your every word.

The older twin went from not knowing your name to looking forward to even his most boring classes just to catch a glimpse of your face. Making you smile became his mission, and Godric did he love it when your face would completely light up. Not just a small smirk, but when your eyes sparkle, your lips pull up far enough to see your teeth and your cheeks go a bit pink, that was most definitely his favourite sight.

Even the most enchanting storybook couples would stare amazed at the adoration Fred Weasley and Y/n L/n shared for each other. Two best friends pining for the other without realizing the mutual warmth that had grown. Spending countless hours together, hiding their flushed cheeks, sweaty palms and loving eyes to enjoy every moment spent together.

When the Yule ball was announced Fred had fallen flat on his face running up to ask you. He’d spotted you in the clock tower courtyard with one of your friends and he knew immediately, you were the only person he’d want to go with. He sprinted up to you intending to drop to his knee and ask, but his foot got caught in the stone and he fell for you the second time. Now any other person may have lost hope and ran away, but Fred Weasley was determined to make the most of it, rebounding it with a cheesy pick up line, In true Fred fashion.

Cinderella would’ve glared in jealousy when the two of you waltzed across the dance floor. Not only was the night magical, but it was awkward, nervous, and fun. It didn’t seem like the far fetched dance at the end of a film, it felt real. You’d step on his toes and he’d shuffle his hand around your waist, but when it came down to it, you didn’t care. You really did feel like a princess dancing in the arms of her lover, swaying to the beautiful music as other students starred in awe at the two gryffindors gliding around the room, laughing happily while moving their feet in a mesmerizing waltz.

That night Fred Weasley finally asked you to be his girlfriend, he got down on his knee in the middle of the dance floor, pouring his heart out to you, his confession wiping even the soliloquies of Romeo Montague out of the water.

“Y/n, from the moment you started to talk to me in our third year, I fell. You make me smile, laugh, blush and always know how to cheer me up. Honestly, why didn’t you start talking to me sooner? I never knew how much I needed you, but my eyes have been cleared, my feelings in tune and now I’m asking you on the dance floor to maybe take this foolish man to be your prince?”

Droplets emerged from your eyes as you shook your head up and down, happy tears flowing free as you pulled the red-head up again.

The entire student body had paused to take in the scene before them, watching in surprise as Fred Weasley stood to his feet to dip the girl with tear stained cheeks into a low kiss, only standing again to catch his breath before stealing you away out the door.

You’d give anything to go back to that night. The seed of young adoration finally blossoming into a flower of love. Love so true, beautiful and pure you’d probably blind anyone who saw. You ran through the halls to Black Lake, dancing to the beats of your hearts in the embrace of your love, swaying in the moonlight as puzzle pieces of your life finally seemed to fall into place and stars aligned.

Holding your love in your arms is a feeling so surreal and fantastic, something that has an addicting property that you couldn’t help but crave. When Fred’s arms surrounded you, you didn’t feel trapped, enclosed, barricaded. You felt free, as though you could fly.

It is hard to define love, but what was between the redhead prankster and gryffindor dreamer painted a clear picture for anyone to see. Love opens the best in us, it reveals pieces of us never seen before and unlocks emotions never known. Fred grew more in love with you with each passing day and his desire to see the smile upon your face never faded.

Your love for your prince charming was something that would never be taken away from you. Everyday took your breath away and every time Fred smiled at you, your brain seemed to turn to mush, the childhood pining never seemed to leave.

Your last year at Hogwarts brought about some problems, with the monstrous pink toad and Fred’s tendencies for trouble, you could say difficulties were inevitable. Nights where Fred snuck into your dorm broken down, tired, and ready to collapse became frequent, especially after he was banned from the quidditch team. Fred was hesitant to reveal his sensitivity, but with cuts across his hands and the loss of his favourite activity, he was willing to lose it all just to rest in your arms again. Many nights he’d run to you, exhausted and restless. You’d hold him close, soothe him the best you could and heal his wounds to the best of your abilities. You didn’t know what to say, but you didn’t need to talk. Fred was content laying on your chest as you fussed over him, pressing kisses across his freckled face and mumbling rather choice words under your breath about the pink devil as you gently caressed his injured hand as light as a butterfly.

You were the first person he’d told his scheme to leave Hogwarts to, begging you to go with him and start a new life in a place he’d dreamt of since he was a child. He honestly wasn’t expecting you to agree, but how could you not? It’s not like you had much planned. Anyways, you were tired of the pain Fred had to endure during the past year, so if he was ready to leave, so were you.

You’d compare flying a broom into the sky as fireworks flashed behind you, to riding into the sunset on the back of a stallion, but yours was so much cooler. Fred had grabbed you from the floor and pulled you onto his broom, you clutched onto him for dear life as he and George flew their last victory lap and destroyed every last horrid plaque of rules that hung on the walls of the school of magic. Another feeling of freedom was evident throughout the entire building as victorious cheers sound from every window.

This was definitely better than a ride into the sunset.

Life with the twins in Weasleys’ Wizards Wheezes couldn’t be defined by just one word. It was exciting, chaotic and the most fun you’ve had in your life. Designing product boxes and using charms was more of your strong suit while the boys caused explosion after explosion, perfecting their concoctions. As weeks turned into months, you and Fred felt as though you were really living a couple’s life. Waking up wrapped in each other’s arm without the worry of being caught, making and eating breakfast to tunes on the radio, dancing to a record player as day bled into night and your feet finally got sore.

This is how fairy tale characters must feel after their story ends, you’d think every day, happy and so deeply in love, relishing every moment together and at peace.

You’d finally been introduced to Mrs. Weasley that coming Christmas, her tender love really made you feel welcome and almost moved you to tears.

“It’s nice to see Freddie finally found someone who loves him as much as you do, I can see it in your eyes darling, you’re perfect for him.”

Fred never understood why they said ‘fall’ in love, sure you may feel your senses fade at times but it was never like a fall. If it made sense he’d say he rose into love for you. You brought him to cloud nine, you raised his spirits whenever you joked with him when he was down. You raised the corners of his lips into a smile by just existing. You raised him further towards his dreams and supported him no matter what. Ironically, he dropped to his knee to propose to you, just like he had in your sixth year at the Yule Ball, once again pouring his heart out to you, this time to truly make you his.

“Here we are again, love.” He laughed as he fell to his knee behind you in a muggle park not too far from Diagon Alley.

“Darling, I love you. I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. You push me towards my dreams, comfort me when I’m upset, and make me smile every single day. I realized how much I needed you back in our sixth year, but today I ask you to seal the deal and become, y/n Weasley?”

It is hard to define love, so many forms of it, so many ways to express it and spread it to the people around you, but when Fred Weasley proposed to you, people looked over and felt the unconditional love between two people that brought tears to their eyes. When Fred Weasley looked at you, you were his everything. His past, present and future, his calm during a storm, his brightest star.

When Y/n said yes, you could hear the love of the purest of heart. The love of a best friend and a partner.

Love opens the best in us, it reveals pieces of us never seen before and unlocks emotions never known. Fred could now ensure a smile on your face for the rest of your days, and the childhood pining could finally rest knowing you would be with this man forever.

When the war finally pulled the wizarding world into the dark, the prankster and the dreamer knew they wouldn’t be able to stand to the side. They needed to help bring back the peace, and they would fight beside the people they cared about. The wedding was postponed until further notice, but it was sworn on a pinky promise that as soon as the chaos was over, you’d pick up where you left off and walk down the aisle in your white dress.

As you stood on the Hogwarts school ground, death eaters on every side and Voldemort cackling maniacally, you reached out for your prince’s hand. Closing your eyes to regain your calm before you had to charge into the incoming fight. Fred had squeezed your hand before pressing his lips to yours in the most passionate kiss the two of you had ever shared.

Looking back, you should’ve held Fred there with you, by your side throughout the entire fight. You should have kept your hands interlocked, standing tall by each other’s side, an unbreakable force to be reckoned with.

Instead the two of you charged forward separated, fighting close, but by your friends’ sides, throwing spell after spell to inch closer to a brighter future. Pain didn’t matter, each wave of your wand could be a step closer to a happy tomorrow.

It was almost thrilling fighting by your classmate, protecting them brought a new sense of purpose to your being and drowned out everything else to focus on the task at hand. Things were turning your way, Neville slayed that dreaded snake, Harry returned, Voldemort would never win now right? Everything would turn out fine. Right?

How wrong you were.

Victory was within reach, death eaters were filtering into smaller numbers and your friends were still alive. Your head was swivelling for your love, the only thought on your mind being to find your prince, your knight, the love of your life. The flash of red hair was just ahead, the light at the end of the tunnel was right there. You called out his name and his head whipped to meet yours. Your eyes met and you could see your future, your wedding, a family, growing old with this man.

Then the rubble fell, and in a flash, everything was taken away from you.

It is hard to define love, but when witches and wizards heard the shrill cry of a heart being torn in half, they could feel the love y/n l/n held for Fred Weasley. The pure, unconditional love that would’ve withstanded the test of time and any problem life could throw her way. The love that had so much hope many people turned away, it was too much to bear. The love that had you digging even though your hands were scabbed and bleeding.

Now when you ask how Fred Weasley showed his love in this scenario, the only thing to say was he died with a smile on his face. He died knowing his last sight was the love of his life running towards him, ready to turn to the next chapter of their lives.

You dug through the rock frantically, grasping onto the hope that for some divine reason Fred could be alive.

This isn’t how the story is supposed to end, your prince was supposed to wrap you into your arms and every problem was supposed to melt away, you were supposed to marry, kiss in front of all your family and friends and live the rest of your days together.

Realization hit you like a speeding train, you were never going to walk down the aisle to see Fred’s reaction to you in a white dress, you were never going to hold your child in your arms and see Fred become the amazing father you knew he would become. You were never going to see him grey and old, still a prankster and still deeply in love. You were never going to feel his lips against yours ever again. Hear his whispers in your ear about how much he loved you, or his melodic laugh that brought butterflies to your stomach every time.

Turns out, the villain of your story wasn’t unrequited love, it wasn’t Umbridge or even Voldemort. It was something even more cruel and insufferable. Death is not something humans really understand, even the most powerful witches and wizards cannot deny that death will come upon you, it is inevitable. There is so much about death we do not understand. All we know is one minute they’re here, the next they’re gone. But you might say, this is a fairy tale, there’s bound to be a happy solution and our lovers will get their happy ending. No, this is reality and our lovers were not that lucky, and the loss of half a heart is not something to be taken lightly.

“No.”

When Fred’s body was retrieved, you were joined by the rest of the Weasley family in their grieving, and while you could never understand what it would be like to lose a brother and a son, you’d lost the man you were going to spend the rest of your days with, and that left a hole in your heart never to be repaired, never to heal.

To lose a lover, but to hold their lifeless body in your arms is a surreal feeling you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy, it’s something that has the power to break even the strongest people and make the most positive lose hope. Every ounce of love in your being spilt through tears that held every wish and hope you’ve ever had. That day you lost your feeling of freedom, and a sick sense of being trapped plagued your every move.

This isn’t how the story was supposed to end.

“What happened to their ‘happily ever after?” A young girl asks her father.

“Well young y/n, as you may know you were named after the very girl who fell in love with my brother and lost everything. Some say she died of a broken heart, others say Freddie came back and took her away to paradise.” An older George Weasley smiles down at his young daughter, snuggled in blankets, clutching a picture frame in her small hands.

“But why couldn’t uncle Fred come back? I thought every fairy tale ends with a happily ever after, those were aunt y/n’s favourite stories right?” Young y/n’s brown eyes flash in confusion and hurt as she lowers the photo of you to her lap.

“Yes, they were her favourite. There was no doubt her and Fred had a love greater than any fairy tale, but not all love stories get a ‘happily ever after.’ Sometimes it’s just a ‘once upon a time.”

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 17: The Flayed

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Henderson!reader

Prompt:  You always thought Hawkins was the most boring town of all, stuck in a vacuum void of excitement and entertainment. Well, it seems that way until the world decided to flip upside down, literally.

Chapter Summary: After what had occurred the night before, everyone was on edge. However, when everyone is grouped back together to combat this monster that was once thought to be gone, things take a dark turn.

Warnings: more angst bc what else do you expect from me, the tiniest bit of fluff if you squint, language, violence, gore, descriptions of possession

Word Count: 2441

A/N: We're getting close to the end of season 3!!! I've got a lot of ideas planned for the finale, and I've also been thinking about maybe posting some filler drabbles for the story while we wait for season 4! Let me hear your opinions and head canons, and as always, my taglists and requests are open!

Tags: @just-my-fandom​ @nightbu-g​

The cold concrete of the warehouse made your skin sting, nipping at the exposed flesh despite the nearly-impermeable humidity that blanketed the air. 

You couldn’t force yourself to move, staring idly at the mind flayer that laid just feet from you as you thought of what occurred between you and Jonathan earlier in the night.

You knew it was wrong, it was stupid and impulsive and damaging. And it wasn’t you. If you were in your right mind, you never would’ve even gotten close to kissing him. You would’ve never betrayed Nancy.

Maybe it was a good thing that the creature took over when it did. If it didn’t, you truly couldn’t imagine what else would have taken place. 

The creature lifted its head slightly as you thought of it, reminiscent of a dog that heard the crinkling of a wrapper. A mutant, rotting dog that made you nauseous whenever you looked at it. But now, staring at it was the only thing that kept you grounded, keeping you in the horrifying reality that you were unfortunately living in.

It was moments like these, your mind caught in a loop of morbid curiosity, that you wished you had El’s powers. The ability to look into people’s lives without anyone else being aware of it. You just wanted, for a moment, to check on Jonathan and make sure he was okay. Though, you couldn’t decide if you wanted to stay away to keep him safe or if you wanted to keep yourself safe.

As the creature settled back onto the ground, you let out a huff and silently cursed yourself for getting into this situation (well, whatever this situation was).

***

“Are you positive?” Nancy questioned, everyone eyeing Jonathan worriedly. 

After coming to the conclusion that Billy’s surge of power was linked with what Nancy saw happen to Mrs. Driscoll that same night, Jonathan had realized that what happened with you also fell into that same time period and also sounded extremely similar. He debated bringing it up at all, but knowing that this put so many people at risk, he spoke about it. 

He explained to everyone what happened with you last night (minus the kiss, for obvious reasons), claiming that you seemed normal until you just... weren’t. He also noted the black veins that were present on Billy and Mrs. Driscoll as well, another thing that held many similarities to Will’s case last year.

“Yes, I’m positive,” Jonathan responded, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Did she feel cold?” Mike asked, his brows furrowing.

Jonathan froze for a moment, panicking at the question’s possible insinuation. He thought back to the night before, feeling your lips against his and the gentle touch of your fingers on the back of his neck. He didn’t remember you feeling cold, but at the same time, he wasn’t really focused on the temperature of your skin when it was pressed on his.

He shook his head and shrugged. “I-I don’t know. Like I said, she seemed normal. And she was wearing a sweater and jeans, too.”

This made Max look at his confusedly. “Why would she be wearing a sweater and jeans in the middle of summer?” she pondered. “Especially if she’s one of the flayed, she’d want to stay as cool as possible.”

Nancy gnawed on her bottom lip as she thought. “She knows how we got the mind flayer out of Will,” Nancy began. “Do you think... She’s trying to sweat it out?”

Again, Jonathan shrugged. “Whatever it is, we need to find her and get this thing out of her. Out of all of them.”

***

The search for you, Billy, and Heather had led the group to the Holloway house. After walking through the hallway and into the kitchen, they stumbled upon a slew of cleaning products and other chemicals scattered along the surfaces, the containers crushed as if they were emptied hastily.

As everyone discussed the possibility of the flayed consuming these chemicals to make a new substance within themselves, Jonathan’s mind once again wandered back to the previous night. There was no way that the same Y/N who ate ice cream with him less than 24 hours ago had also ingested copious amounts of cleaning products. It just didn’t make sense to him.

He didn’t have much time to think about it, though, as Nancy led the group through the dining room and into the living room. She glanced at the wine bottle that was discarded on the floor before kneeling down in front of a puddle of a red substance. “Blood,” she whispered, glancing over at Jonathan when he knelt beside her. “Yesterday, Tom had a bandage on his forehead.”

As Jonathan watched Nancy slowly pick up the blood-stained wine bottle, he was struggling to wrap his mind around the fact that you hurt someone, or at least assisted someone in doing so. 

“He was attacked,” Nancy continued. Nancy began to walk, following the trail of drag marks and disturbed rugs that led to the garage where a pile of rope laid. “They must have tied them. They must have taken them somewhere.” Nancy stood silently, thinking for a moment. Mrs. Driscoll, she kept saying ‘I have to go back.’ What if the flaying, it’s taking place somewhere else. There must be a place where this all started, right? A source.”

“Somewhere he didn’t want me to see,” El added.

“If we can find the source, then maybe we can stop them. Or at least stop it from spreading, or whatever the hell they’re doing with those chemicals.”

“How do we find it?”

“Mrs. Driscoll,” Will spoke. “If she wants to go back so badly, why don’t we let her?”

“Okay, but this doesn’t make sense,” Jonathan argued, unable to pull his eyes from the rope that laid at his feet. “Y/N wouldn’t be able to hurt someone, let alone tie them up and drag them god-knows-where.”

“Jonathan, this isn’t Y/N,” Nancy argued.

He huffed. “Last night, when she changed, I tried to stop her from leaving because I was worried. I-I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I needed to help her, so I grabbed her arm.” He gulped. “She begged me to let her go. She said that she didn’t want to hurt me.”

A silence fell over the whole group as his words sunk in.

“Maybe she can control herself around you. But around other people, she can’t keep the flayer from taking over,” Nancy spoke finally, reaching out and touching his shoulder. “But you’re her weakness. And that’s gonna help us a lot.”

***

Silently watching Mrs. Driscoll’s body melt and condense into a meaty mush made you want to retch, but your body stood stock still as the lump inched from the room and down into the pipes. Once the mass disappeared from sight, you wandered out of the room, down the hall, and out into the stairwell, aimlessly walking down the stairs to pass time as you waited for whatever task the mind flayer would assign you next.

For once, you wish you were working at the pool, boiling under the scorching July sun. At least you’d have something to do.

Those thoughts left as soon as they came, however, when that strong fog began to flood your mind, your body switching onto autopilot as your feet led you onto the second floor.

A sharp pain stabbed through the right side of your head as you were about to turn the corner, doubling over in pain and clutching your head as you heard quick footsteps coming down the stairs. Immediately, you straightened up and jogged down the hallway, grabbing a pair of scissors from a nurse’s station before rushing into the wing of the hospital that was under construction and slipping into a room.

You heard the heavy footfalls sprint past your door, followed by another flayed that stalked slowly behind them. You stepped out of the room and walked beside him, tightly clutching the pair of scissors in your hand as the lights flickered around you.

The man beside you led you both over to a locked door, two voices echoing through the door. You nodded your head at the door and he slammed his fist through the glass, screams sounding from the two within the room as he peeked his head in before undoing the lock. As he pulled the door open, you stepped inside, a sinister grin on your face.

But that grin immediately fell when you saw who exactly was behind the door.

The man pushed past you, disregarding your clear shock as he threatened Nancy in a sing-song voice. Jonathan, who clearly was also reeling with shock but shoved it down, stepped forward and pulled his fist back, ready to attack the man. the man’s hand shot out and grabbed onto Jonathan’s neck, choking Jonathan and shoving Nancy away with his free hand.

The flayer’s control faded from your mind and you took advantage of it, hurrying over to Nancy and trying to help her up. “Y/N?” she coughed out, her eyes wide with fear. 

“You have to go,” you forced out, using as much strength as you could muster to pull her to her feet while also fighting to keep your consciousness. 

Behind you, you heard a groan of pain coming from Jonathan, and you and Nancy turned to look just in time to see the man slam a metal stool down on Jonathan’s back.

Nancy finally got onto her feet and you threw your scissors to the ground when you felt the flayer’s control slowly start to seep back into you. Through blurry vision, you watched Nancy take the scissors you discarded and embed them into the back of the man. 

You and the man hunched over, and you let out a groan of pain as he pulled the scissors from his back. The man cursed at her, quickly regaining his composure and stalking over to her. 

“Run!” you and Jonathan screamed at her, and you waited until she had led the man out of the room to go run over to Jonathan and help him.

"Jonathan,” you whispered, crouching down next to him and gently resting your hand on his back. “Are you okay?”

He gasped in pain, turning his head to look up at you. “What’s going on? How are you-” he began before you shook your head.

“I don’t know. Come on, let’s get you up.” You pulled the stool over to him and he gripped onto it, lifting his upper half up with all his might.

Moments later, the stool fell from his grip, Tom menacingly grinning down at the two of you. “Where are you going?” he hummed, nudging you to the side so he could pick Jonathan up by his shirt.

“Let him go!” you screeched, stumbling to your feet.

Tom held Jonathan by the collar of his shirt, locking eyes with him before glancing back at you. “Let him go? Sure.” He picked Jonathan up and threw him into the lockers, Jonathan’s body falling to the linoleum floor a moment later. Tom picked him up once more and threw his body into a cart, letting his body crumple to the ground.

You watched in horror as Jonathan crawled along the floor towards the pair of scissors, your whole body exhausted from all the strength it was taking to keep the monster at bay. Tom knelt beside Jonathan and grabbing him by the hair, lifting his face from the ground before slamming it down.

Once Jonathan finally fell unconscious, if only for a few moments, Tom grabbed the scissors and lifted them over his head.

“I’m in control of you! Stop!” you screamed, allowing the creature to take hold, black veins snaking up your face and arms. “Leave him alone.”

Tom turned to you, the scissors still held above his head. Tears streaked down your face as you glanced down at Jonathan, your vision slowly going dark. 

However, before the creature fully took hold, a harsh pain cracked across your face, making you cry out in pain. You clutched your nose and watched Tom stumble away, only for the two of you to be tossed around by another strong force.

Jonathan and Tom both scrambled to their feet, the scissors held tightly in Jonathan’s hand. Jonathan hesitated though, looking down at you on the floor. He had realized that whatever happened to one of the flayed was felt by all of them, and that meant that whatever he did to Tom, you would feel as well. 

“Do it,” you gasped out, rising to your feet with the gracefulness of a newborn fawn. 

“I don’t want to hurt-” Jonathan stuttered.

“Do it!” you screamed.

Tom lunged at him, and Jonathan plunged the scissors into Tom’s throat. Both you and Tom let out a ghastly gasp/moan of pain as you collapsed onto the floor.

As the lights continued to flicker overhead, Jonathan rushed over to you and turned you onto your back, clutching you in his arms.

Your eyes searched his, both of your chests heaving with ragged pants while you both silently communicated to each other.

“You need to go, I can’t control it anymore,” you choked out before rolling out of his arms and crawled over to Tom’s body. The two of you silently watched as Tom’s body began to convulse and turn to that all-too-familiar mush (well, familiar to you, at least). Jonathan let out a gasp of horror, though his eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion when your body didn’t do the same.

He realized then that his theory was right. You were different than all of the other flayers. On one hand, he was relieved because he knew it was truly you. On the other hand, though, it horrified him that it was you who committed all of these horrible acts. That, and the fact that you somehow had control over these creatures truly made his skin crawl.

He realized he didn’t have much time to dwell on it because the strange mush of blood and meat and bones slowly began to inch out of the room the same time that your eyes fluttered closed. He contemplated staying to check on you, but decided against it after a moment, instead following behind the disgusting mass.

A strange sense of calm washed over him when he saw Nancy standing at the other end of the hallway, following her own strange substance. Silently, the two masses led the two teens down the hallway, joining together in the middle and morphing into something even more sinister.

[loving-all-for-loki]

Voiceless Love Chapter 9: Evermore

(Bucky’s route)

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2264

Warnings: fluff, some angst, SMUT (unprotected sex, you know better).

Tag List: @caffeineoverloadandstudying @zizzlekwum @daddysfavoritesexkitten @magicalpieex @buckylokisimp @lokiyoulittle

A/N: So, because I originally intended for this to be a Loki x reader, I couldn’t bring myself to write a ton of more Bucky chapters. I kind of got bored with it and I don’t know how to write Bucky well for long so this is the last Bucky chapter. I want to thank everyone who made it to the end. I feel very blessed for how well this series was accepted considering how new I am to writing fanfiction. 

There’s this old Bruce Lee quote that goes, “Love is like a friendship caught on fire. In the beginning a flame, very pretty, often hot and fierce, but still only light and flickering. As love grows older, our hearts mature and our love becomes as coals, deep-burning and unquenchable”. It’s completely accurate. 

When you first met Bucky, it was a friendship. He took you under his wing as a friend and as a mentor, one newbie to another. He was quiet and civil. It’s what drew you to him, but after months you became infatuated. Neither of you left each other’s side, until Loki came around.

That’s the flickering, or your flickering. He swooped in like a knight on the back of a donkey. He was unlikely, a rare and unstable love. You remember when you first met him. Quiet like Bucky, he had a strong presence, one that was to be noticed. Unlike Bucky, he wanted nothing to do with you at first until he got to know you. He realized you were more, but he left. His light flickered out and your flickering like with Bucky vanished. It returned full and brighter than before.

It became unquenchable. You were once again glued to him and him to you. Bucky was there through heartbreak, injury, joy, and accomplishments. After some convincing, Tony eventually let you join the team on missions and help heal on the battlefield. Had it not been for you, Steve, Bucky, and Sam would have died multiple times. Every time healing them sent you to the hospital, Bucky would stay by your side until you were dismissed.

Bucky at one point fought for you, telling the team you couldn’t keep giving them all of your life. They decided to keep you as an emergency or slight injury medic. If they barely got scratched, you would quickly heal them or if they were about to die as well. You stopped healing broken arms and pulled muscle, letting yourself recover from missions.

Now, going through your boxes to put away, you find photos of when you first joined the team. Photos of you with Bucky on late nights, you with Nat and Wanda drunk, you with Steve, Bucky, and Sam drunk. A lot of photos of you with the team drunk. You laugh at Bucky’s expression in some of the photos. Happy. Tired. Drunk.

“Why do you have so many photos of us drunk?” Bucky laughs. 

He turns to see Bucky looking over your shoulder at the photos. You chuckles as you hand him some more of you and the team. 

“Man, we had some fun.”

“Had? We still have fun with them?”

“Not as much. Do we forget who wanted to be on “emergency mode” for the team?”

“I see it as temporary retirement.”

Bucky laughs at your comment as he hands you the photos back. He goes back to putting dishes away into the cupboards. Had anyone told you that two years after you met the super soldier, you’d be moving into an apartment with him while engaged, you’d smack them and chuckle. If anyone told you that you’d be talking to someone as if you’ve always talked, you’d laugh even harder.

But here you are with Bucky, unpacking boxes into the new places and cleaning the surfaces. You set up an old record player he had bought for you last Christmas and put one some old records from Bucky’s childhood. Every so often, he’d stop what he’s doing and make you dance with him. Most of the time it would be a slow song you’d waltz around to, him kissing your neck and making you giggle.

After hours of unpacking, Bucky and you sit down on your new couch. You both take in a deep breath and fall on each other’s shoulders, laughing. Bucky wraps an arm around you and pulls you into him, you laying your head on his lap. He runs his fingers through your hair and looks out the window. The scenery of New York is so calm and familiar. You two debated between moving somewhere far or staying in the area, but knowing how the Avengers are always getting themselves in trouble (and how Bucky still goes on every mission with them), you decided to stay in New York.

You’re not complaining though. It’s such a beautiful sight and it’s home. Having lived in New York for two and a half years now, you feel at home here. It’s almost as if it’s always been home, but now Bucky is home, too. Your heart lies with him and this city. Sure, Loki took a piece of your heart with him to Asgard, but you remind yourself that muscles can get stronger.

You try not to think about Loki often. It only depresses you and puts Bucky in a bad mood, but you can’t help it. Losing a love is hard and sometimes you wish you could forget him entirely, as if it would be easier, but you know you can’t. Bucky has respected your feelings for Loki throughout the time. When you two moved and were packing your things, Bucky didn’t make you throw out the photos of Loki. He never made you get rid of the memories. You kept them in a safe box in your new closet.

But seeing your whole new life, the photos with Bucky, it reminds you why you moved on. You knew you couldn’t hold onto Loki forever, especially after you found out Thor was no longer fighting Odin for his freedom. It was hard, but you knew to save your heart, you had to. Bucky made it easy. He let you talk about him. He let you cry and rant about Loki. It broke his heart to see you in so much pain, but he knew it would pass.

It did pass after a while. You found a new yet familiar love in Bucky. Something warm, comfortable, easy. Bucky’s quietness and security made it easy to love him. He was a man of few words, except with you and you were a woman of none, except with him. It’s a dynamic you can live in and a dynamic that works. Anytime you were out of words or didn’t feel good, you didn’t speak and he was okay with that. He doesn’t take it personally anymore.

“I love you,” he mumbles. “I love you, too.” 

He smiles at your words, knowing how much they mean and how much sentiment they hold. After so long, he lingered on every word of yours, not wanting to miss a single one. Even the avengers quieted when you spoke. You eventually got comfortable enough in front of everyone to say a few words. They managed to coax a couple ‘yes’ and ‘nos’ out of you and then a little while after, they got a few ‘thank yous’ and ‘no problems’. Steve watches Bucky whenever you speak, seeing the smile spreading on his face.

Getting engaged to Bucky brought the greatest smile and that changed Steve’s opinion on everything. Even after dating Buck for a year, Steve wasn’t sure about your relationship with the soldier. He still thought you two were too dependent and immature, but he saw the way you grew together and he knew. He knew you both were good for each other in the long wrong. 

“You want to get Mexican or Chinese?”

“How about Japanese?”

“Sushi?” You ask with a cocked eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ve never had it.”

“I’m shocked.”

“Well, Hydra wasn’t one for non-mush paste foods and all Stark ever bought was shawarma.”

“I never understood his love for shawarma.”

“Neither did I.”

You both laugh before order yourself some food. You continue to unpack as the food is delivered. When Bucky opened the door for the delivery woman, he was stunned to see her drop the food and walk away fast.

“I think the food lady was scared of me,” he chuckles.

“Well, do remember what the whole world thinks of you.”

“You’re right, but I hate it.”

You sit down to eat and put on some show. After eating all the sushi at record speed, you find yourself yawning and falling asleep on the couch. Bucky watches you as your chest rises and falls in your deep exhaustion. He can’t fathom how beautiful you are and how lucky he is that you are his. He continues to watch you for ten more minutes before picking you up and sets you down on your shared bed. 

Bucky crawls in behind you, wrapping his arms around your body and holding you close. You rustle around and push yourself closer to him. Bucky tries to swallow the feeling he gets when your butt rubs against him, knowing now isn’t the time to start anything with you, but he can’t help it. He thrusts into you, startling you.

“Bucky, what the-”

“Shhh.”

Bucky gets on top of you and kisses you hard.  You tangle your fingers in his hair as you deepen the kiss. You can feel his smile against your lips, making you internally giggle. His metal arm rests on your cheek, his thumb brushing against it, as his other hand strokes up and down your waist. It leaves bruises as he goes, squeezing you, getting closer to you. You buckle  your hips against him, drawing out a moan from his lips.

He leans back for you two to take a deep breath, stripping yourselves of your clothes as you do. You admire Bucky, who sits shirtless in front of you. His scars and bruises mark him perfectly, depicting a man of strength. Bucky’s eyes can’t leave your body, the way it curves and rests. He sees you as this goddess of grace and beauty, something to be worshiped.

And he does worship you. He leaves trails of kisses down your neck to your stomach, stopping right over your mound. His hot breath fans over your fold, sending chills down your spine and making you want more. Your whining begs him to get closer to you, which he teases with kisses on your inner thighs. Your wetness drips on to the bed, capturing his attention, which he replies with by capturing your slickness. His tongue presses against you, sweetly and warmly. Your moans encourage him, but he stops coming back up and hover over your bod.

Bucky slides his pants off and holds the base of his cock. He’s thicker than you imagine and for a brief second you think he won’t fit until he slowly slides into you. You can feel your walls stretching around him as the sting settles in. 

“Move,” you command.

He starts thrusting slowly until he sees the way you whine, bursting into a gruesome pace. You scream out in pleasure, gripping his biceps as he hovers over you, pounding relentlessly into your wet.

“Fuck,” he moans, “feel so good.”

He leans down further and places a hand on your throat, gently squeezing. A smile spreads across your face as he does.

“Kinky little girl,” he chuckles.

His grip becomes tighter until you can feel yourself struggle a little. There’s a buzzing feeling in your lower abdomen, signaling the closeness of your orgasm. Bucky can feel you clench a little on his cock which is now buried deep in you. He stops his fast pace and changes it for a painful beating. He thrusts long and hard, surely leaving bruises from where your bodies collide. You feel your orgasm coming closer and Bucky can tell.

“Don’t cum, yet.” “B-Bucky, please.”

“Not until I say so.”

He continues to choke you as his hard thrusts become unbearable. It’s impossible to hold the orgasm back as you let it go, cumming all over his thick cock.

“Bad girl,” he growls. Bucky pulls out of you despite your complaints and flips you over so your ass is in the air. “I didn’t say you could cum.”

You feel a hard sting on your ass after Bucky smacks you. He smiles when the red mark on your skin appears, matching it on the other side of your cheek. There’s no time in between the spanks. Your ass turns bright red.  

All of a sudden, you feel an intrusion as Bucky slams into you unexpectedly. You cry out in pleasure and pain as he thrusts as hard as he can. The bed shakes and hits the wall in time with Bucky’s thrusts, as well as your moans. They only spur him on, drawing another orgasm out of you.

He doesn’t stop to let you recover for a second. He grunts as his orgasm comes close, his hands gripping you harder and leaving bruises on your waist. The pace starts to stagger.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Cum for me, Bucky,” you order in a sweet tone.

Your words put him over the edge as he cums inside of you, his dick twitching against your walls as he paints them white. He lets out a large deep grunt as he releases, making you even wetter. Pulling out, Bucky takes a deep breath and disappears.

You fall foward on your stomach and breath as he returns with paper towel. He smile and shrugs, you both knowing it’s the only thing you have while unpacking. He cleans you both up before getting in bed next to you, pulling you close to him. You rest your head on his chest as he wraps his metal arm around you, kissing your forehead.

Laying here, you knew you made the right choice, moving on with Bucky. He was home.

[klainebrittana]

TW - Vomit

Chapter 2!!

Augusts Pov

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

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

“Little Vermin.” Matron said.

“Matron!” We said.

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

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

“What do you mean?” Alexa said quietly.

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

“Tell us more!” Brendon said.

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you know about this?”

“Is he going to kill us too?”

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

“What if he steals all my books?”

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

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

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

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

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

Sandwiches matron brought, grass, the sweet smell of chocolate

Mays’s hand, cold grass beneath my feet

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was?” I said.

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

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

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

“Ok.”

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

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

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

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

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

[amethystpath-writes]

Revenge of The Two Weeks (3)- that's right. We named it, folks.

Continuation of this original story.

Continued directly from here!

@tears-and-lilies @whatwhumpcomments

If anyone would lile to be added or removed from any tag lists, plz let me know! I don't mind either way!

Heed the tags.

******

The flaps of Hero's tent flapped in the wind, distracting him slightly from the task at hand. The commander was testing his strategy; he was testing all of the mens' strategy, trying to figure out who might gain his own title when he retired- if he ever retired.

Hero picked the tip of his finger up off of the map, replacing it with another finger on his other hand while he moved his first to the right side of the parchment. The commander was wanting to expand to the eastern part of the lands. Problem was the number of geological obstacles: craters, hills, ponds, and mushy swamp-like areas galore.

Sighing, Hero threw his head back. It seemed impossible. He eyed the blue flag closest to his right finger, picked it up, and threw it over the shoulder. There, he thought, Get rid of the bloody pond. If only it worked that way.

There were three blue flags, all within several hundred meters- realistically speaking- of one another. Very little room for our legions. Hero debated whether or not to fight on horseback. As great and obedient as the horses were, they were large and clumsy in close proximity. With little space, there was too much room for error. So no horses. That fixes that problem.

One yellow flag. The marshes. A big ole stretch of hard-to-walk-through mush, at least for a human. So yes to the horses. Or no? God, I don't know. The swampish lands would result in more army and artillery men's deaths than if a few horses fell into the ponds. Keep the horses. And that would allow for the use of their bows, which would presumably be an advantage.

The horses will require resting breaks. What would happen if they exhausted a bunch of them? Men would have to walk, which would exhaust them. That was better than all of the men exhausting themselves at least.

Hero bounced a fist off the table. This was so frustrating. He thought, now, maybe he wasn't cut out to serve under the commander's- and certainly not the king's- name. But he had to. Because fighting was all Hero could do. He wasn't good at anything else, but if he failed in this test of strategy, he was done for. He'd be demoted, become one of those scavengers of the army who were responsible for picking up dismembered body parts and burning them. How disgusting. How lowly. How vile.

"You kept the dagger."

Hero gritted his teeth together, jaw askew. He didn't need to turn to know who that was. "Yeah? It's my dagger. Just because you stole it from me then gave it back doesn't mean it hasn't always been mine. Of course I kept it."

The tent flaps were quiet, Hero realized. Villain must have been holding them still. It was with this information that he began reaching for his dagger, saying as a distraction of sorts, "Do you remember Grandad?"

Villain laughed. "Don't try to settle me with your old stories. I don't care about them anymore."

"You used to." Hero swallowed, adjusting the handle of his dagger until it felt just right.

Spiders crawled up his spine to the base of his skull. He spun, dagger held with the blade outward. This hadn't been his plan. First, Hero's plan had been to launch the dagger at the wooden tent post, just close enough to scare Villain. But now he was in front of him.

"Cute," his younger brother commented, and pushed Hero's wielding hand aside. "But I have my own." He hummed. "You give into me so easily. You ought not to, for your own sake. To me it's fascinating, but who knows when I might actually decide to slit your throat?" It was with this that Villain brought his own dagger to Hero's neck. "And what would you ever do to stop me? You already had the chance to both throw a blade at me and stab me with it. You've done neither."

Hero rolled his eyes. Villain was shorter than him which only aided in the harshness of the sharp dagger on his neck. His brother was pushing up at a cruel angel, one that Hero had to avoid swallowing against.

"What do you want me to tell you? You're right, okay? You're right. I have guilt and I hoped that I'd never see you again because of it. But you're alive." He took a breath. "It's up to you what you do with your life from here. You can chase me around crazily as you have been, thus driving me to continue ignoring you every chance I get. Or," Hero ventured, "we can work on reestablishing what lost relationship we had."

The knife cut in. Hero squeezed his eyes shut, let his nostrils flare. A warm trickle slid down his neck into his uniform. "You might not want to maim a trusted person of the Guard and Commander."

"Oh, I don't think that matters much." Villain cocked his head to the side, peering at the map left on the table behind Hero. "If anything, I'd replace you. The Commander likes tough boys, isn't that still right?" He sighed. "I know I overstayed my two weeks in the woods, but well..." Villain laughed. "After a wolf tore my friend and a six year old child apart before eating them, the woods actually welcomed me. I'd tell you where I stayed, but I promised the boys I wouldn't compromise them."

Hero's breath caught. "Some of them still live in the woods?" He tried to pull back, away from the blade, but Villain pushed it forward as Hero pulled back.

With a shrug, Hero's younger brother- who had been gone, presumably dead, for five years said, "Sure. Not all of them felt like returning to a place that couldn't accept them as they were. They found new families, ones that fought to keep them alive. They became brothers to one another."

"How poetic." Hero scoffed. "They should be brought back. They're not safe out in the woods."

The dagger slashed through the air, away from Hero's neck, but not straying at all from his shoulder. Hero hollered out, but Villain clamped a hand over his mouth before anyone else could hear. Not that it mattered. Like Villain said before, the worst that could happen was Hero lost his position, which Villain certainly didn't mind. Still, he wanted to torture his older brother this way for a little longer before he did anything too drastic.

"Funny," Villain spat, stance like a cobra ready to strike. "You didn't say that when you led us all to the woods before. Do you know how old the youngest was?" His voice was venom.

"Six."

"No, that's just the one who died. My friend who was also killed by the wolf was sixteen- just to give you a little perspective."

"Five, then."

"Three or four." Villain explained, "He didn't even know his own age." And then he turned to blame, "You left him in the woods. You took him away from his family, and you are the reason he's going to grow up always overexerting himself to please others, only to feel like he's never enough."

Villain bit his tongue to stop himself, but then said it anyways. "I'll be surprised if he doesn't kill himself in three or more years. He feels like a disappointment to himself, Hero, because a man he was supposed to look up to told him he wasn't enough and then sent him off into the woods- where he watched every horrific image you can think up happen."

"I don't know what you want from me!" Hero roared, and this time he finally did move to fully strike a blow on his brother. He shoved his shoulders hard enough that Villain nearly fell on his bottom.

Lucky for Villain, he was able to balance himself out before that could happen.

"I'm sorry, alright! I'm sorry that I failed the four or five of you-"

"Seven of us."

"-and that I was too cowardice to see for myself if you lived or died. I'm sorry. But I can't do anything to fix it except offer myself to you now. So that's what I'm doing, Villain. I'll be a better brother this time around. If you're looking for something, some sort of closure though...you're not going to find it another way. Because no matter how much you torture me, you'll never be satisfied knowing that I left you. That I created memory after memory with you just to leave you to packs of vicious wolves and hungry, lonesome bears.

"I fucked up, Villain, I know I did. But I can't fix it now. I was- and am still- just as scared as you were in those woods. Different scenario, but same, same hot-coaled fear. I'm sorry I wasn't as brave as I made myself sound. I wanted to be a role model to you, but I- I don't know, brother." Hero sat on a cot in the tent, put his head in his hands for a moment before looking up again.

"The Commander is a daunting man and I found myself cowering. You haven't seen him, Villain, haven't endured the training he puts us through, or the screaming he does- like we're prisoners of an enemy kingdom and not soldiers of his own. I'm not making excuses for myself; I know I was wrong. I know what I did is unforgivable, but I'm begging you, brother, please-" Hero kneeled, throwing his knees to the floor, tilted his head to the ground with eyes closed "-please try to understand."

A hand landed on Hero's soldier, but he kept his head down. He wished he would have opened them before, for a new pain bloomed in his shoulder. His mouth became gaped and he choked on the feeling, especially as it spread.

Villain twisted the dagger with a sick satisfaction. "I'll understand when you walk yourself into the woods for two weeks."

Twist. A sharp gasp. Ragged breathing.

"When you hear the deep growl of a wolf- deeper and more impactful than thunder."

Another twist. A pained holler and cry.

"When you watch the person who did everything they could to make you feel at home dies as he's immobilized by razor teeth in their leg. And when the teeth finally rip into the throat of a boy who doesn't want to die after minutes of fighting."

A plunge of the dagger. A wordless scream. A limp body- still breathing, but in so much pain that it can't even think of moving- against Villain's leg.

"When you wake up with your own bloodied fists and two piles of bones and drawn out, tattered rags beneath you- because you slept on a branch in a tree to avoid getting eaten yourself. When you spill every ounce of fluid in your body out into a creek because you're so traumatized. When you suffer the way I did...when you spend just the first week in the woods like I did, maybe then I'll try to understand."

As a finish, Villain yanked his dagger from his brother's shoulder and said, "You don't get to keep this one." He wiped the blood off on his pant-leg and walked out.

******

@badthingshappenbingo

Original Work

Knife to the Throat

[jewish-space-laser]

Sucker

This is a little blurb I wrote when the JoBros came back last year... it’s very filthy and very short but I hope you enjoy! 1.3k words

xoxox Tile

You’d always had a thing for boybands. You’d been a JC girl when N*SYNC was big, a Nick girl for the Backstreet Boys, a Joe girl for the Jonas Brothers, and definitely a Harry girl for One Direction. Harry, who was currently pouting with crossed arms on his couch as you blared the new Jonas Brothers song from his surround sound speakers.

“I’m a sucker for you!” You scream-shouted. Harry rolled his eyes and huffed, turning away from you.

“We’ve listened to this four times in a row now,” he complained, “can’t we listen to something else?”

“Like what?” You had been twirling around on his living room carpet, but the tone of his voice made you stop.

“Literally anything,” he sighed.

You frowned, hopping onto the couch next to your grumpy boyfriend. He still wasn’t looking at you, but his torso had dipped towards you slightly, unable to fight his desire to be closer. You ran a had down his arm, trying and failing to get him to uncross them.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” You cooed gently. “You usually like this kind of music.”

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, “now I don’t.”

His cheeks pinked slightly, and you smirked when you realized why. He was jealous. He wasn’t generally a jealous person, but on occasion he would get pouty when one of your guy friends hugged you too close, or you swooned over an actor at the movies. It was fun to have him like this.

“Are you jealous of the Jonas Brothers?” You tried to contain your smile. “Or is this because I called Joe sexy last night when we watched the video?”

“’M not jealous,” he defended, “I just… don’t see their appeal. Especially Joe. He’s engaged to be married, were you aware of that?”

“Harry,” you giggled, brushing your hand over his arm again, “you know every single word to Year 3000, and just the other week we were dancing around the kitchen to Burning Up. You love the Jo-Bros, almost as much as I do!”

Harry crinkled his upper lip into a snarl. “Oh, you love them now?”

“Harry, stop,” you couldn’t help but laugh, pushing some of his overgrown hair behind his ear. It was getting long again. “You know you’re my favorite boyband member of all time. There’s no competition.”

“Seems like there is,” he muttered, “can’t believe you called Joe Jonas sexy, right in front of me.”

“Well, he was suspended from the ceiling in his underwear,” you reasoned. Harry’s jaw flexed.

“Didn’t know you were into that,” he mocked, “bet it’d be sexier if I did it.”

“I bet it would, too,” you told him, grinning, “but for now, I’ll just have to use the image of Joe all tied up to….”

You trailed off suggestively, sucking your lips into your mouth. This caught his attention. Harry finally turned to look at you, a scandalized expression covering his features. His mouth had dropped open slightly, and he gaped at you in shock.

“To… to what? Get off?” He scoffed, completely offended. “You don’t need to be doing that, not when I’m here to take care of you.”

“Hmm, I dunno,” you prodded, “this new song of theirs really gets me in the mood, but since you don’t like it….”

Before you could comprehend what was happening, Harry had managed to pin you to the couch, a low growl echoing from his throat as your breathing hitched. One of his thighs was rubbing against your denim clad crotch, and even through the fabric, you could feel his quads flexing.

“You want something to think about when you listen to this song?” He challenged, eyes dark and brows furrowed. “I’ll give you something, then….”

He reached over to the remote for the speakers and pressed play. You winced slightly as it resumed from where you’d left off, mid-chorus on high volume. Harry had already whipped his shirt over his head, and was now toying with the buttons on your blouse.

“Harry, I was only,” you gasped out loud as he bit harshly into your neck, “teasing, babe, I was only… trying to get a… rise out of y- oh!”

“Shh,” he commanded, “can’t hear the song when you’re talking so much.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at his blatant sarcasm, but he’d shoved his hand down the front of your jean shorts and your brain turned to mush. He knew just where to press his fingers to render you speechless.

“But- but you don’t-“

“Shhh!”

You whined quietly when he pulled his hand away, and it was borderline obscene when he licked his fingers, holding eye contact all the while. You wanted to tell him that he really didn’t have to do this, you hadn’t realized that he was this bothered by it, but every time you tried, he shushed you or pressed his teeth harder into your skin.

He was sucking marks down the expanse of your torso as he stripped you of all of your clothing. Your blouse, bra, shorts, and panties all lay in a pile by the armrest of the couch, and normally you would have scolded him for letting such a nice blouse sit in a crumpled heap, but now his warm breath was being exhaled directly onto your exposed center, and suddenly your expensive shirt didn’t matter at all.

“Are you gonna think about Joe Jonas when my tongue is inside you?” You violently shook your head no, eager for him to move just a little bit closer. His nose brushed the skin directly above your clit, and you let out a whimper that had Harry looking smug.

“No,” you promised, “just you!”

“You sure?” He teased. “I mean, he is super sexy after all….”

By now, the song was on its third loop, but all you could think about was how to get Harry’s mouth onto you as soon as possible.

“Please,” you begged, “you need to… you need to just-“

“Just what? Oh, now you’re thinkin’ about me? Thought there was only room for the Jonas Brothers in that pretty head of yours.”

“Please,” you cried pathetically, “I’m sorry, you’re so much hotter than him-“

That seemed to be all of the affirmation he needed, since he cut you off by pressing the entire bottom half of his face onto you, sliding his tongue inside while his nose rubbed against your clit. His fingers were holding you down at the crease of your thighs, but he removed one to slide a finger in next to his tongue.

He edged you constantly, completely withdrawing his touch when he felt you getting close, waiting until goosebumps grew on your skin before diving right back in. He pulled out all of the stops; alternating between fucking you with his tongue and sucking on your clit until it was purple and swollen and sensitive. You were writhing against the leather couch cushions, mewling out pleas and praise as his jaw moved from side to side.

It wasn’t until the eleventh loop of the song came around that he finally let you come, sliding a hand up your body to pinch around one of your nipples. That had been it for you, the sensitivity and roughness of his calloused fingers pushing you over the edge.

He let you ride it out, keeping two fingers pumping inside of you while he sat back to lick his lips and watch. Your thighs were trembling and your hands were clenched tightly to one of his throw pillows as you came, only opening your eyes when the last rush of your orgasm faded away.

“That was the best you’ve ever given it,” you panted, completely gobsmacked. “I’m literally… going to picture that whenever I hear this song. You’ve ruined it, I can never listen to it in public ever again.”

Harry shrugged with faux nonchalance, wiping his fingers on your bare stomach before reaching over to the remote on the floor. He ticked the volume up several notches, smirking at you when you raised an eyebrow at him.

“On second thought, I quite like this song.”

[moon--vixen]

Today, June 28th 2019 around noon, my baby boy Kit passed away in my arms. He was 17 human years old, 95 cat years old. He outlived his kidneys, but he hung on for two days, so we could prepare and give him the end he deserved.

Today, I’d like to share the life of the little angel that changed mine forever.

Some time in October 2002, when I was 9 years old, my Mother and I walked into a pet store we’d never been to before, and right at the front doors was a large cage holding one mother cat and a full litter of kittens, all around 5 months old.

The one little black kitten caught my eye, and in that instant I knew. I knew he was meant to be mine. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I begged my Mother to let me hold him, and she eventually agreed. The store clerk opened the door and let me pick him up, and he instantly melted in my arms, and completely stole my heart. He was completely and utterly relaxed, and even though I was a complete stranger, he was completely at peace letting me cradle him in my arms like a baby, looking up at me with the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen.

I knew in that moment that I couldn’t leave the store without him. I just couldn’t. I begged my Mother to let me have him, but she worried about the logistics of introducing two cats in a very cramped two bedroom apartment that already had 3 people and a 2 year old cat that was notorious for not liking other animals.

She eventually forced me to leave him behind for the night, assured by the store clerks that he would still be there tomorrow. I spent the rest of the day making my case. He’s a black cat, we love black cats. His (temporary) name is Uncle Fester, Wednesday and Morticia Addams were my role models and the Addams Family movies were our favorites to watch around Halloween, alongside Hocus Pocus. And once I pointed out to her how he let me hold him, how relaxed he was, she too was convinced, and it was time to tackle convincing Dad.

But that too didn’t take long. He captured all our hearts, and the next day I walked out of the store with my sweet boy, whom we renamed Kit, after the witches’ familiar from the TV show Charmed. A name I very quickly came to love and took as my own nickname, leading to many funny looks when I would talk about him.

One of the first things we did upon getting him home was give him a bath. The cage he had been in was small, but tall, but it seemed only the mother cat ever left the bottom half. Holding a litter of at least 8 kittens, there was only one small litter box and one food and water bowl. My sweet baby had poop dried on the end of his tail and old food all over his feet.

He didn’t mind the bath. He was so curious about the water, and even played with it, splashing around in it and exploring.

Our other cat, Tiggeriss, knew something was up, and she clawed and hissed at the door. It seemed Mother’s worries were well founded. We couldn’t keep them apart. He was curious about her, and she, the Queen Bee of the house, demanded loudly to be made aware of who had entered her kingdom.

We couldn’t get in or out without them trying to dart in or out. Eventually, we put him back in the carrier and brought it into the tiny living room. Tiggeriss was on it in a second, sniffing wildly. I opened the carrier and he walked straight out, innocent little boy that he was. but in that moment, magic happened.

She hissed at him, and in an instant he plopped over onto his side and exposed his belly to her, submitting to her completely. She sniffed him for a bit, and began giving him a bath.

20 minutes later, they were curled up together taking a nap, like they’d known each other their whole lives. Inseparable, as they’d be for the next 17 years.

He fit into our family perfectly, though it still took some adjusting. We had a black mat at the front door, and often on our way out we’d see nothing but two little green eyes looking back at us, the void swallowing the rest of him whole.

Tiggeriss was still always the Queen Bee, but she clearly considered him her son and treated him as such. When they’d eat, she’d let him have any extra of hers he wanted. When we tried playing with her, all strategic and allowing her to track and hunt the toy, he’d come plowing in like the silly little kitten he was and go nuts.

But it also went the other way. Tig hates car rides, panicking every time we have to take her somewhere. She’d scream and yowl and pace around the car staring out every winder desperate for an escape. But Kit? He was as calm as he ever was. On trips where we’d have to hit the highway he’d get a little car sick at first, but otherwise he stayed calm, and that in turn kept her calm.

We moved into a nice house, and bought them a brand new large scratching post, one twice as tall as I was, and almost still is. They loved it, of course. and it still sits beside me as I write this now, showing all the love it’s gotten for the last 17 years.

He was the snuggliest, most affectionate baby. His relaxed and trusting nature never wavered, even around rowdy children. My friends dubbed him “Mush”, for how he would just melt in your arms without a care in the world, and “Mr. Underfoot” for how he’d always follow you around, and constantly be “underfoot” and in the way, just to be around you more.

And he was always, so, so curious. Always wanting to discover new things, new smells, new experiences. Seemingly he’d forget about his exciting adventures the year before, so every winter he’d discover snow all over again.

He became our wonderful Halloween cat, always enjoying being outside and seeing all the kids coming around with us. Sometimes it’d get to be a bit overwhelming, but he’d still enjoy sitting inside the glass door and watching. He was the best living Halloween decoration we ever had.

My Father, who always claimed to dislike cats and felt dogs were so much better, warmed up to him very quickly, deciding Kit was his cat. We would playfully argue about it often, fighting over who got to lay claim to the cat he didn’t want in the first place.

His days were spent ether on Dad’s bed, my bed, or at the foot of my recliner, snuggling with my feet or in my lap, when he wasn’t playing with one of us or Tig.

He was the most loving cat you’d ever meet. I was always horribly bullied in school. I always assumed that if my classmates themselves didn’t kill me, the stress would. I never bothered to think about my future because I assumed I’d never have one. I had resigned myself to a short life, but then I’d come home to his squeaky little meow, the meow that never deepened no matter how old he got because he was neutered a little too early. And I knew I’d be ok. I had to be. I couldn’t leave him behind. He needed me and loved me and I refused to die on him or Tiggeriss, no matter how bad things got.

Because I knew, as soon as I looked into his eyes, those eyes that loved me unconditionally, who didn’t care about me being gay, or my terrible pimples, who didn’t think I was stupid and ugly and worthless, and I knew that was all that mattered. HE was all that mattered.

Those big, beautiful green eyes, gems adorning the velveteen little rumbling furnace that was our beloved never ending ball of fluff.

In fact, we even got a very nice, fancy comb we were warned was so good it was known to cause a balled spot if we combed him in the same spot too much.

We tried once, just to see if we could. We never made a single dent in his fur, no matter how hard we tried.

And his fur was the softest thing I’ve ever felt. It was like owning a large chinchilla, lost in the void of a starless night. Soft, and shiny, with a rumbling motor boat underneath that you could hear from the other side of the room, especially when he got chin scritches, his favorite place for affection.

Once he hit late adulthood, he developed arthritis. It became hard for him to walk and climb, which meant he spent more time snuggling with one of us than he did playing and exploring anymore, but he seemed to get just as much comfort out of it as we did. He always knew when one of us needed a snuggle, like when I got home after having my wisdom teeth removed. I crashed in my chair instantly, but according to Mom, he climbed right up with me and curled up under my arm and napped with me all day.

No matter how much changed as he aged, how active he was, how well he could walk, how aware he was of himself and his surroundings, some things never changed.

He still loved making things difficult because he just wanted to be close to you,

He still loved lying in the sun and munching on the grass just outside our home,

He and Tig would still climb all over me when morning rolled around and they were hungry,

He still loved his favorite spot next to me on my bed,

And snuggling with his loved ones. Even on his last days.

He knew the end was near. When we took him to the emergency vet, she said she was shocked he was still alive, as he was in such bad shape he could go at any moment. He could have just as easily died the night before, but he hung on. He hung on one more night for us. So we could prepare, so I could have one more night with him in my arms. Just one more night.

And there is nothing in the world I am more thankful for than him, and the love he showed me for the last 17 years.

Rest in peace my angel.

You will forever be loved, and never, ever forgotten.

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Day Two

Hi folks! Here is a little chapter! I was going to post twice a week, afraid this may not be timely because the stay at home orders might end, but I think I’ll stop worrying about that.....and post weekly! So here is day two of Harry and Elise at home! Thanks to @dirtystyles for the beta and the amazing live from your bed call!

"Can I get you a cup of tea?" 

She'd wandered into his living area at a time that felt unbearably early, she was drowsy. It had made her jump a bit, his voice. She was surprised she felt tired. She may have woke up a bit early, but they had turned in really early too. There was only so much you could say to a total stranger who had inadvertently kidnapped you, and was also the subject of your daydreams at one point in your life. They'd had a bit of an awkward first night, maybe wordless was a better word.

She'd wanted to kick herself for agreeing to quarantine with him so easily. Especially when they sat across from each other at his kitchen table in fallow silence. She was hoping today they could both find their voices, or these 14 days were going to be miserable.

His voice was like a desert backroad, this morning, graveled and with ruts like a washboard. It wasn't helping her speak with ease. She'd heard his morning voice before, had screamed over it at 17, in secret because the fixation had fallen out fo fashion for her age. Elise had clearly forgotten how devastating it was.

"Um," great now her voice was funny too. It wasn't all deep and sexy though, it was an embarrassing high pitch, if he had a dog it was about to come running. She didn't think he had a dog. "I don't really like tea, no offense." She squealed. Her roommate had been visibly offended, but too polite to say it when she'd turned down her brew.

He burst into a laugh at that, "your face! It's not like you insulted my cooking or looks or something. It's ok to not like tea!"

"You sure about that, the girl I live with may beg to differ. When I shared the same sentiment with her she looked at me like I was wearing an American flag cape and was about to douse myself in ketchup and fire a gun in the living room." She had to ask, as he was very un English about this, in her limited experience.

"That's an image!" He ducked his chin, bit his lip to stop speaking.

"What?" She asked.

"Just the cape?" His cheeks warmed, but not like hers. They were flaming. "Anyway, I prefer coffee, actually."

"Oh!" She opened her mouth in faux shock. "I'm horrified! You are a bad Brit!" She laughed with him a little.

"The worst! Just ask my friends. I'm even losing my accent."

"Sounds pretty strong to me." She shrugged. "I pick up accents easy. Maybe you do too."

"I do, it will be interesting to hear what we both sound like once we can rejoin the world." He turned around then and started rummaging in the cupboards.

"Can I get the key to your flat? And do you want hot coffee or iced? Do you have to designate when coffee is hot? That's default right? I basically live on iced coffee, it keeps me going and such. Think it started when I was on my last tour, but you know, we never really slept on tours with the band either, like."

"Harry, Harry! Harry! Stop!" He was firing questions at a concerning pace. She thought he talked slow.

"What? Have you gone off coffee? I was hoping we'd keep that in common." That was interesting, but she didn't let it distract her.

"No, no, that's not it. Why do you need my house keys?" She was sure he had been rambling about semi important things, but really, she was a bit lost on that part.

"Oh, so I can leave them for my assistant to go get you the necessary articles for the next couple of weeks. She can drop them on the doorstep. That way we need not expose her and vice versa." He said it matter of factly.

Elise was momentarily distracted by the French press he was seeing to now. She could taste the strong bitter flavor already and she was already imagining how his forearm would flex while he applied firm steady pressure to the top.

"Yeah, ok, but, I probably should have asked this before I agreed to stay the night last evening, but, why are we holed up here together? I could just as easily have gone home. Furthermore-"

"Oooh, furthermore, you an English major or summat?" He was smirking a little and the expression was so familiar and yet devastating she nearly lost both threads of conversations they were weaving.

"No, international relations and antiquities."

"That sounds...niche."

"It is. It's also extremely pertinent to current British politics. But we can talk more about that later-"

"Gonna hold you to that." He nodded for her to go on.

"You are very good at evading questions."

"I know." He looked like he'd just signaled dawn, cock of the walk.

"Good skill in your line of work?" She imagined necessary.

"It's useful. I've been trying to do it less lately."

"Can you do it less now?" She gave him her play school eyes, from when she had the 3 year olds at her first college jobs. She'd been in early childhood education. She switched soon after. But the eyes were effective, apparently, Harry fessed right up.

"Listen, I feel extremely guilty. I knew, dammit, I knew I should have just ordered delivery, or sent someone else to pick up the things that I wanted, but, well." He sighed. "I really value my independence and a sense of normality, little things like going to pick my own avocados matter to me."

"Did you get avocados?" She was hungry.

"Yeah. Did."

"Can you make avocado toast and we can finish this conversation over that?" Her stomach growled and the coffee smell started to really permeate the air. They were connected, coffee and her appetite. That smell meant yum to her. She lived for breakfast.

He grinned. "Sure. Coffee is about done. Wanna start there."

"Yes, please." He poured her a cup and placed it at her elbow.

"How do you take it?" He stopped and screwed his mouth to one side. "Though I should explain I only have some oat milk and if there is any proper cream, it might have gone off."

"Oat Milk is fine. I've been trying to eat less dairy."

"Yeah me too, bad for my voice."

"Your voice seems so much better though." She exclaimed while fixing her coffee and looked up with her lip between her teeth and her tail between her legs. That and recognizing him plus the squeak and her readiness to move on it, must expose her as a fan girl, former at least.

"Hmmm." Was all he said, knowingly. Wait, he was supposed to be on the hot spot.

"So you broke quarantine for avocados, and then sneezed on me."

He blushed at least then, so he had a little shame.

"Yes, yep, I did do that."

"So, why didn't I just go home? Shelter in my own place, get my own things?"

"Ok, I'm about to sound like a pompous arsehole. Promise to forget it?"

She nodded.

"I, well, you look like you're my age, a little younger proabably, a student. And London is expensive. I assumed you have roommates?"

She pursed her lips but nodded for him to continue.

"Well, I just wanted to mitigate my guilt. And also." He stopped then and played with his lip before realizing he wasn't supposed to and washed his hands. Before pulling the toast out and mushing avocado like he'd worked at a sub shop, not a bakery.

"Also," Eise prompted, when he turned back and topped her toast with an egg.

"I just.....this way I can pay for everything. Including if you get sick. Cuz it's my fault, I just had to pick my own produce." He flapped his arms uselessly. And she just let it go. She could have put up a fight. About him whisking her away, or getting her things, or going home, or even thinking she wouldn't chip in for the food she'd eat. But instead she gave him her keys, and filled her belly with the food he made, and laughed at his jokes. It wasn't a crazy thing, or so horrible to have company while they were both stuck inside. And there were her roommates to consider. London was expensive, and he was negligent.

Plus, he was lovely and even more lovely than she had built him up in her mind to be, years ago. There were lots of sentiments she agreed with upon listening to them.

Mostly, she knew a bit about making decisions out of guilt. She could spare him this easily. She had nothing to lose, and at worst, wonderful company to gain.

[george-mackay-macfine]

Dear Diary - Prt. 8

November 3rd, 2011

Dear Diary, 

Here’s a comprehensive list of what the last two / three days have been comprised off. 

Dean and I trying to cheer Harry up, and convince him that Ellie wasn’t all she was cracked up to be. 

Me cleaning Harry’s face pretty regularly… somehow the injuries from the fight made him even more attractive… 

Dean telling Harry if it was the consistent sex Harry was upset he’d be loosing he was sure he could help him find another girl. 

George knocking on my door at one in the morning after he’d finished drinking and watching football with Harry, Dean, Henry and Jordan begging me to let him inside… He promised he’d only sleep…. You don’t know how close I was to conceding. 

Jordan’s done a TOTAL 180, he’s not being a dickhead since the party… It’s nice. 

Henry’s been helping me study sometimes, he’s really good at keeping me focused… I think he’s learnt that if we stop every twenty minutes to talk about George boy’s I’m pretty good. 

I’ll keep you updated as the week goes on, 

November 5th, 2011

Dear Diary, 

Not much has changed, Harry’s attitude has improved some more. The flat’s becoming less tense, his face has healed.  

George hasn’t knocked on my door again…

November 8th, 2011

Dear Diary, 

Today, well tonight really I’m going to give my first all-nighter a go… To be fair it’ll be in the comfort of my own home, in my own bedroom, but the excitement is still there, well as much excitement I can muster when I think about the mountains of work I have to go through. 

Exams are coming up and I do need to be prepared. 

November 8th, 2011 - Still 

I cannot work here. Dean and Harry have the boys over again, and they’re being obnoxiously loud! Don’t they understand how hard medicine is? All the moving parts… 

November 8th, 2011 - Still 

Dear Diary,

Sorry for all the diary entries, but now I’ve left the flat, and I’ve been at the library for the last four hours - not that interesting I know, but it’s what happened on the lead up to me leaving the house, and the walk to the library, AND the library itself. Let me break it down into three parts for you. 

Incident One - The flat 

“Y/N,” I groaned my head dropping against my textbook as George slipped into my room, I picked my head up and spun on my chair to look at him arms folded over my chest, eyes turning into slits. George, on the other hand, had a bottle of beer in his hand, his cheeks flushed and that stupid goofy smile I adored so much stretched across his lips. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m trying to study, but some people keep making a lot of noise,” 

“Is that them out there?” He thrust his thumb over his shoulder oblivious to my sarcasm. “Want me to tell them to be quiet?” 

“No, it’s okay.” I spun back around, hands picking up my various textbooks and notebooks. “I need to go to the library anyway. You guy’s don’t need to try and keep it down.” 

“You’re leaving?” I nodded my head, picking up all the notebooks and texts book’s I’d need. “You don’t need to leave, We can be quiet I swear,” George sat down on my bed, the springs squeaking. He bounced a couple more times, springs making the same noise. “Wow,”

“What?”

“Loud bed,” He moved again his face shrivelled in confusion. “Wouldn’t be the best for any late-night activities,” I rolled my eyes and reached over George to pick up the backpack I’d carelessly dropped hours ago when I’d come home from classes. George was quicker though, his hands gripped my waist and pulled me into his lap. “What’s going on in this head of yours,” His fingertips tapped my head gently, “Talk to me Y/N,” 

“I’m fine George,” 

“You’re not,” He moved my arms so they strung around his shoulders, linking behind his neck. “Tell me what it is,” He smiled sweetly up at me, “You can talk to me,” I fiddled with my fingers behind his neck, fingers grabbing onto the short hair at the nape, as I ducked my head down, unable to take the eye contact, “It’s just us Y/N…” He leant his forehead against mine. “Just us,”

“I’m mad at you,” I frowned deeper, “I know I don’t have the right to be, but I am.” 

“Why?” His free hand pushed the hair behind my ear, I had nothing to hide behind. “Because I kissed you?” I nodded my head, skin bumping his, bottom lip slipping between my teeth. “I’m not mad at you,” His hand worked from my hair to my lip, softly pulling the bottom lip out from beneath my teeth. “But I do need you to stop doing this, why are you mad about the kiss?” 

“You’re used to this George, you’ve dated girls casually, had one night stands but I haven’t,” 

“We didn’t sleep together…” 

“I wasn’t done.” I snapped. “I have never kissed a boy who wasn’t my boyfriend, let alone kissed a boy who's my close friend… I don’t really know how to feel about it, How to act.” My hands fell from around his neck to his shoulders, picking at the fabric. 

“Do you regret it?” 

“I don’t know,” I whispered fingers continuing to fiddle. “I just feel like you’re on this other level to me, you always have been this great thing that’s always seemed so out of my reach, ever since high school and I’m down on another level and my head is spinning because we kissed George,” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “We kissed, and I know I said it wouldn’t change things, but then you said those things after, and I’m sorry but it has changed and I can’t be the only one who's felt it."

“You’re not on another level to me Y/N,” He cleared his throat, “Especially not below me, if anything… you’re above me,” He pulled back, hands holding onto my cheeks. “You’re Y/N fucking Y/L/N… Every guy at my school thought you were the sweetest person, I remember one time at a football match, you handed out orange slices to all of our players because our school didn’t have anything for us and it was a hot day… First time I ever saw you,” He cleared his throat, “But, you’re right. I’m sorry for kissing you, it was wrong, and I’m sorry for saying those things after, that was also wrong of me.” One of his hands left my face, fingers beginning to run comforting circles on my hip bone, “But we can just pretend it didn’t happen Y/N, we can go back to how things were leading up to the party, leading up to the kiss… let’s just forget it happened.” 

“Really?” George nodded his head, 

“I mean I’ll have to tear the pages out of my diary but I can pretend if it means I keep my best girl,” 

“Shut up,” I groaned my head falling onto his shoulder. George moved us, my bed squeaking underneath him as he lay down, I was still on top of him, my head against his chest now listening to his heartbeat. 

“You really are the best girl I’ve ever met Y/N,” George’s hands ran up and down my back. “And I truly am sorry that you were feeling like that, my mum would kill me if I hurt you,” I looked up at him, chin resting on his chest now.

“You told your mum about me?” 

“Of course,” He smiled. 

He’s bloody done it again,

“I have to go,” I pushed up from his chest, climbing awkwardly over him, picking up the bag and shoving my books in. “I really have to get some studying in,” I didn’t let George reply as I pushed open my bedroom door as a loud cheer filled my ears. “Exam’s are close,” 

“Where you off to Y/N?” Jordan asked, eyes still trained on the T.V, “MacKay annoy you that much you’re running away?” 

“No, just to the library,” I smiled walking to the door. “Enjoy the game,” I pulled the door open and slipped out quickly.  “Jesus,” I whispered as I leant against the door for a second, giving my mind the time to process the events that had just happened. 

George MacKay had made my heart rate spike in a matter of seconds, his sweet admission turning me to mush, but should I really be surprised, at this point I was certain George could do anything and as soon as he flashed his goofy smile my way I’d crumble and fall at his feet - unhealthy really when I think about it. 

“Don’t be that girl Y/N, don’t be that girl,” I whispered to myself as I pushed away from the door beginning to walk down the hallway. 

This led into the next thing,

Incident Two - The walk

“Y/N,” I turned to look behind me as I reached the door for the stairwell, Harry was running towards me pulling on his coat. I stepped away from the door, walking towards him. “Hey,” 

“What's wrong?” Harry shook his head, a slight smile on his lips 

“Nothing, I’m going to walk you,”

“You don’t need to Harry,” 

“I’m not letting you walk alone,” He reached behind me and pulled the heavy door open, nodding his head for me to walk through. 

“You’ll miss the game,” He shrugged his shoulders, hand going to my lower back, now pushing me through the door. 

“I’ll watch the replays,” He smiled walking behind me, together we walked down the three levels and out into the cool early evening air, I had to stop myself from staring at him the entire time, unable to work out why exactly he was walking me. “Why are you going to the library?”

“I’m having trouble studying at home, and I figure it’s the easiest place to go,” I shrugged readjusting the backpack. 

“Here let me,” Harry reached and took the backpack off my shoulder, casually pulling it over his own. “Were we being too loud?” 

“It's fine,”

“You should have told Dean or I… it’s your flat too.” 

“Its fine Harry, I don’t mind,” I smiled across at him. “Besides you’ve been… not the happiest the last couple of days I didn’t want to stop you from having some much-needed fun,” 

“Doesn’t matter,” 

“It does.” I pulled my coat tighter around my body. “You deserve to have some fun,” 

“How about we make a list,” Harry suggested, “Of things we want our future selves to remember, from our eighteen-year-old selves,” Harry shuffled the bag on his shoulder. “When I get back to the flat, I’ll write them all down, and we’ll go over them in thirty years,” 

“You still wanna be friends in thirty years?” I looked across to Harry, unable to keep the bright smile from my lips. 

“Nothing good ever happens after two AM.” He declared. “Making any decisions in the most unholy of holy hours is always a terrible idea. The tattoo, the piercings… all bad ideas,” 

“Things change, it might not have worked out the first time, but time changes things…”

“You don’t always end up being the person you always planned to be,” 

“Oh, a good one,” I pursed my lips. “Don’t think so much and just do.” 

“Destiny happens whether you plan it or not,” He looked over to me, urging me on with his eyes. 

“There is someone out there for you, no matter what you think…. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but someday.” 

“Enjoy the ride, even if you know the expiration date.”  He smirked, “I mean it Y/N… Uni isn’t going to be around forever, you got to enjoy it more.” 

“The littlest things can have a ripple effect that’ll change your life,” 

“There are two big days in any love story. The day you meet the girl of your dreams, and the day she takes your last name.” 

“Love’s confusing,” I bit my lip, mind flashing to George, and the events of my bedroom only minutes earlier. 

“Wait for it,” Harry finished. “Whatever it is, whoever it is… If you know you want it, or them… wait for them,” 

“I like that one the best,” 

“She cheated on me,” Harry announced, “I know I should have been most angry about that, but that wasn’t the reason Oliver and I got into it.” 

“What were you angry about?” Harry shook his head, his mouth turning into a thin line. 

“I’ll tell you about it another day,” 

“Sure,” I nodded my head, “Whenever you’re ready,” It was killing me not knowing what would make Harry angrier than his girlfriend cheating on him, but I knew better than to pry into things. We walked in silence the rest of the way, only interrupting it when either of us had a random comment, nothing to surge a conversation between us, but it was peaceful. 

“Call me when you’re going to be done.” Harry spoke as we reached the library pulling my bag from his shoulder, “Dean or I will come get you,” 

“No,” I began to protest, “It’ll be far too late,” 

“You’re calling me Y/N.” Harry demanded as he passed my bag over to me, “Or I’m going to stay with you all night and watch you as you study…” 

“Firstly, that’d be creepy. Secondly, I’m old enough to walk home without a chaperone.” 

“That’s not the question, it’s a matter of me being able to sleep soundly knowing you got home okay,” He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at me. “Now, you’re going to call me or I’m not leaving,” Harry and I had a staredown for a minute before I finally threw my hands up in the air. 

“Fine, Jesus.” I groaned dramatically, “I thought I was leaving my big brother back home when I came here,” Harry flashed me a toothy grin. 

“No way babe,” Harry walked backwards waving his hand at me. “Call me, if you don’t I’m going to ground your ass,” 

“I’m not a child you can threaten with a spanking and a grounding,” Harry stopped, he walked back towards me a determined smile on his face. He lent down towards my ear, his hand resting on my lower back. 

“If it were a spanking from me, I’m sure you would enjoy it,” He walked backwards smirking as my cheeks flushed bright red. “Be safe,” He pointed into the library, “Now, go learn some shit,” He continued to smirk as he turned, to walk home. 

Harry Hudson had officially returned to the group chat. 

“Bye Harry,” I waved my hand high above my head, unable to hide the bubble of joy his comment gave me,

“Call me when you’re ready, to come home, I’ll be here.” He called back over his shoulder, hands dug into his coat pockets as he walked up the street. 

“Is he your boyfriend?” I turned, to my left a girl stood at the bottom of the stairs, a backpack strung over her arm, and a golden lab assistance dog sitting patiently at her feet. 

“No, he’s my roommate,” I breathed,

“He sounds cute,” The girl giggled, “Is he cute?” 

“Yeah, he is.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” I stepped towards the girl, 

“Do you need help?” 

“Bronte here’s got me. Thank you though.” She stepped up one of the stairs, “But if you’d like we can sit together? It does get pretty lonely here after a while,” This led me into the next event. 

Incident Three - Charlotte

“Sure, that’d be great.” I watched as the girl walked up the rest of the stairs, her blonde hair billowing out behind her. “Do you come here often?” 

“Mostly during the night, my parents live around the block, and I find fewer people whisper to their friends about the ‘blind girl’ when they’re here cramming for tests,” 

“People do that?” The girl shrugged, her small frame hidden beneath her large jumper. 

“Sometimes, sometimes not,” I rushed ahead of her and grabbed the door, watching as the girl and her dog, Bronte worked in perfect synchronisation. When the girl walked so did Bronte. “I’m Charlotte, by the way.” 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” 

“Pleasure to meet your Y/N,” Charlotte smiled brightly towards me, “What are you studying then?” 

“Medicine, I’ve always wanted to be a doctor since I was a girl, what about you?” I asked quietly as we sat down at one of the oak desks. I pulled my backpack up onto the desk, pulling out what I needed, Charlotte followed suit, sitting across from me, releasing Bronte from her work before she pulled out books lying them across the table.  

“Law,” 

“Wow,” 

“Wow as in I can’t believe a blind girl thinks she can be a lawyer,”

“No,” I shook my head. “If anything I think that’ll make you an even better lawyer,”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you can’t be fooled by emotions, peoples poker faces, you’ll be listening purely to the facts of the case, how people respond to your questions… if they inflect their voices when they lie… If they’re voice trembles when they replay what happened, your other instincts are strong from your lack of one of the main sense… Your body’s natural instincts will kick in, and you’ll work it out…” 

“Good answer,” She laughed pulling a textbook towards her. I watched unmoving as she opened one of the books, her fingers running over the small raises in the pages. 

“Is it hard?” I blurted out, my hand slapping against my mouth the second the question hung in the air. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that, Its none of my business,” 

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind,” She smiled kindly, eyes downcast on the books. “I went blind when I was sixteen, and I think that was the hardest thing,” She leant her chin on her hand, “Having something so crucial taken away from you pretty suddenly,” She took a deep breath and shook her head, “Sorry, I don’t mean to just offload onto you,” I pushed my book away my attention focused solely on the girl across the table from me, 

“Go ahead, I think you have a lot to say, and I’m willing to listen if you want to get it off your chest,” 

“You sure? It’s not a short spiel,” 

“I’ve been procrastinating from studying all day, at least if you talk to me I’ll be doing something useful for someone.” 

“I went blind when I was sixteen, that was two years ago, I’m still learning how to do things but Bronte really helped me… She makes a lot of things a lot easier, sometimes I use a cane but it’s not as easy, or as fun, least with Bronte I have someone to talk to, and who can comfort me when I need it.” She pursed her lips for a second, I notice her hand instantly went to Bronte’s head, giving the dog a loving scratch. “What else,” Her tongue clucked as she thought. “I attended Uni, like you but I guess it’s lonely since most people don’t really know how to take me or interact with me. I’m sure if I could see them they’d duck out of my way so quickly it’d be comical.”

“Maybe we can set up hidden cameras, make some money off the internet,” 

“Hey now, look whose got the big ideas,” She chuckled at my stupid, idiotic, dumb idea. 

Such a dumb idea Y/N, Jesus you’re an idiot. 

“They don’t try to talk to you?” 

“Some do, but I think a lot of them are freaked out by me,” She frowned. “It’s like they think they can catch it if they talk to me for too long,” 

“I’m not,” 

“Thank you Y/N,” She fiddled with the ring on her middle finger. 

“Keep going, it’ll be cathartic to let it all out,” 

“I’m annoyed at the world if I’m honest, not because my sight was taken away, I mean yes that fucking sucked, but because I’m afraid I’m going to miss out on a great love.” She hit her hand against the book frustrated. “I don’t think I’ll ever fall in love, you know the proper love you read about where the girl gets the foot pop when she kisses the boy, and he comes to her house in the middle of the night because he needs to be with her, needs to see her…. I just don’t think I’ll get it since no one would want to date a blind person, and I guess…”

“Go on,” 

“I don’t think I’m worthy of love…”

“Charlotte,”

“Don’t judge me Y/N,” 

“I’m not, but everyone is worthy of love,” I reached across the table and grabbed her hand. Giving it a tight squeeze. “Why don’t you think you’re not worthy of love?”

“How can someone love me when I can’t love myself?”

“You don’t like yourself?”

“Not happy with myself,” 

“Why aren’t you happy with yourself?” 

“Before I went blind I cared a lot for how I look and loosing that I feel like I lost a massive part of me, and I don’t know if I would like what I would see now.” 

“You’re beautiful,” She looked up. “I know you’ve just met me, but I want you to know that you are beautiful, we all are but your vision didn’t make you beautiful, or a good person… just as losing it doesn’t make you any less of either… Charlotte, you should believe in love,” I gave her hand another squeeze. “Just because a part of you isn’t perfect, or your not worked out in your own head, doesn’t make you any less worthy of something… love is magical, and when you meet the right guy it’s all going to make sense, why the others didn’t work out, or why there were no other… it’ll make sense,” 

“Thank you,” 

“I could use a good friend who I can talk to about life,” 

“Me too,” 

“Charlotte, do you want to be friends?” 

“Depends,” 

“On what?” She gave me a cheeky smile,

“Can you describe your cute roommate to me?” She fanned herself dramatically. “I need a description to go with that voice,” 

[hiddenleafstoryteller]

Hi! I love your writing so much!! I’ve recently got in Naruto and have almost binged the whole thing! And I just such a s l u t for Kakashi and Itichi. So I was wondering if you would be able to write something with both of them where originally you were with one of them but you guys break up and then you end up with the other one. Using 🐶 and 🐱 for it!! I completely understand if you don’t want to, just thought I would ask! Thank you!! 💗💗

HECK. I loved writing this one so much, it’s such a perfect set up, thanks for the request anon!

Word Count: 1,675

Enjoy my work? Please consider buying me a Ko-Fi! | Masterlist

NFSW

🐱 “She’s not yours anymore, so you might as well leave.”

🐶 “You were ready to leave me for her, weren’t you?”

Check out the other prompts, here!

“Is it really me you miss Itachi? Or am I just the only one who picks up the phone when you call?” Her voice is still clouded by the mask of sleep. It was, after all, two in the morning.

“Babygirl, I’ve been thinking about what I said to you last night and I hate myself for it. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my anger.” The heartbreak in his voice brings [Y/N] our of her slumbered haze and immediately worried for her boyfriend on the other line.

“You really hurt my feelings Itachi, and not just in a little way.” She mumbled as she stood up with the phone. She paced around as they talk, her mind wondered where he was, if he was okay.

“Do you want to come over?” She pondered and within a moment a knock struck her front door. She chuckled, he was always close by when they fought. Especially when it was his fault.

The door swung open and she found herself starring at her boyfriend’s looming figure in the doorway. He doesn’t say a word, just picks her up and shuts the door behind him.

She could feel his apology in the way his lips danced down her neck, biting gently on her exposed skin just above the neckline of her shirt. In one fluid movement he has her shirt off and her wrists pinned to bed.

“I’m so sorry for today babygirl.” He mumbles into the skin of her breasts as he litters them with the only bruises that come from love.

“Itachi, I can forgive you-“ She reaches down and pulls him up to her face gently by his hair “-but that doesn’t excuse the way you spoke to me today in front of Kakashi.”

Itachi sighs and lays next to her, starring at the ceiling as if it had the answers.

“I just, when I saw you with him my entire world went red. He’s always had feelings for you, and he makes them so...so obvious!” The disgust in his voice causes [Y/N] to grow weary, she didn’t want him to go off into his anger for a second time today.

“Well, I suppose it was a similar feeling to how I feel whenever I see you with Emika.” [Y/N] rolls over and looks to the clock on her side table, it wasn’t even midnight but it felt as though she had lived ten years today.

“Emika and I have a history together, yes I’ll admit but you don’t see me all over her.” He laughs and immediately [Y/N] scoffs.

“No! You just write her love letters, you just let her SLEEP in your bed, always running off to solve her problems. I never say anything, but the second a man shows any hint of thinking that I’m worth his time, you show up and tell him he can ‘keep me’?” [Y/N]’s year long wall of holding in her feelings starts to be chipped at, but she remains composed.

Itachi took a deep breath as their eyes meet, he regretted every thing he had said to her today. He wanted badly to go back in time to keep his mouth shut. To prevent himself for doing what had done after the fight.

“[Y/N], I want to be open about this with you as best as I can.” Itachi starts by taking in a deep breath and looking away from her.

“You didn’t.” Her voice shakes as the words of what he doesn’t say wash over her, “Itachi, please tell me you didn’t.”

He can’t bare to look at her as her voice balances on the edge of breaking. He stands up and walks towards the window, starring out at the moon.

“I went to her house right after the fight, and I-“ He’s cut off by the gentle sobs from his bed and he turns to see the damage he caused his heart sinking so far down he expected it to be on the floor.

“You were ready to leave me for her, weren’t you?” She whispers as he watches tears stream down her cheeks.

He nods slightly and is unable to meet her gaze.

“Itachi, you have exactly ten minutes to get your things and leave my apartment before I-“ She stops herself, what really could she do against the most powerful ninja she knew?

“[Y/N], please, no.” His voice is barely audible as she walks from her bedroom and close the door. Five years of her life now stood shattered behind her, and she wasn’t sure where she would end up on this tailspin.

The slamming of the door below her confirms that he was in fact, gone.

She falls to the floor, a sob escaping her body that echoes across her empty house like a ghost of the memories that they had created slowly mourning its loss.

As the seasons changed, so did [Y/N]. Almost a year later she found herself in love again, but this time it was a love with roots.

Kakashi leans over and kisses her nose softly, “Darling, you have to wake up of we’ll be late to the party.” He purrs into her ear and she smiles, gently pushing away his face.

“Five more minutes.” She mumbles and turns over on her side pulling the blanket over her head.

“You said that fifteen minutes ago lovebug.” He teases her and pulls the blanket away from her body. She shivers as the cool air of her room washes over her bare skin, goosebumps began to appear as she turned to look at her boyfriend with a pretend look of annoyance.

“Hey, look at this, someone’s a little excited aren’t they kitten?” He teased her softly as his finger grazed over her hardened nipple.

“I’m just cold.” She mumbled and looked away from him as her cheeks flush.

“We could fit in a little bit of warm up time, but only if you’re interested.” He pulls his mask down to expose his smile that always had its way of turning her heart to mush.

“Oh I dunno Kashi, we don’t want to be late for the party.” She teases him and goes to stand up but she’s quickly pinned down by Kakashi. A familiar glimmer in his eyes that caused [Y/N] to grow aware of the heat growing in between her legs.

“I think I have time for a snack.” He winks playfully as he starts to kiss down her stomach, spreading her legs as he kissed downward. He nips gently at her waistline, which caused her to yelp out in pleasure. He chuckled against her skin, as he took his fingers and trailed them along her inner thigh.

“Hmmm we really should be going soon.” He says out loud as he rubs his cheek against the soft skin of her thighs, and smirks when he hears her whine in protest.

“I’m only joking Princess, you know I can’t just leave my girl like this.” He muses before sliding his tongue along the slit of her folds. She quivers in anticipation, and Kakashi grips onto her thighs to hold her in place as he set to work.

It isn’t long before she was begging for release, his tongue pushing her closer and closer to the edge. He worked magic, gently but firmly working his way around her clit. He knew exactly what she needed and where she needed it. As he continues to tease the soft flesh of her clit he slowly teases the outside of her hole with two fingers. Playfully sliding them in and out but not completely, it drove her mad.

“Ugh Kakashi! Pleaseeee!” She begs him loudly as she playfully shoves herself against his face to which he responds with a gentle smack to her thigh.

“I’m not done yet sweetie.” He chuckles against her wet, aching cunt. He continues with his work for a few more minutes before deciding that he was done.

He firmly shoved two fingers into his girlfriend, slowly curling them towards himself. He looks up at her, licking his lips as he smiles, “are you ready angel?”

She nods, felt her body tip over the edge the rush of stimulation overwhelmed her as she cried out his name and gave into the pleasure he provided.

An hour later, after many needed kisses and quick showers, the young couple are dressed and headed to the dinner party they had been invited too.

[Y/N] loved being on Kakashi’s arm. It felt as if no matter how many beautiful women were around him, she was the prize. He missed no chance to introduce her as “his lovely girlfriend” and it always made her heartbeat quicken.

They night moves along, Kakashi had stepped outside with Gai and [Y/N] found herself alone at the table, nursing the drink Kakashi had brought her.

“You look amazing [Y/N].”

She paused almost convinced she didn’t recognize the voice behind her, but after so many years by his side how could she not?

“Itachi, a pleasure to see you.” She curtly nods in his direction as she turns to face him.

“Likewise.” He stares at her in breathless wonder, how could he have cheated on someone so perfect?

[Y/N] feels Kakashi come up behind her and his chin rests on her head, “Hello, Itachi.”

“Kakashi.”

“I see you’ve met my lovely girlfriend [Y/N].” The trickle of laughter in Kakashi’s voice was hard to mask, “Oh wait, I forgot you two knew each other.”

[Y/N] elbowed Kashi gently as she tried to signal he was going to far but Kakashi continues on. He was out for blood.

“Incase you didn’t notice Itachi, she’s no longer yours, you gave her up. So you might as well leave now.”

His voice is curt, directly to the point. Itachi nods, without a word he heads away from their table. Kakashi pulls her down and onto his lap as he sits, he gently kisses her shoulder.

“I hate that he hurt you babygirl, but I’m so grateful it lead you to me.” He says softly, “I love you.”

[domesticandlovingmonsters]

A Timely Visit

Hellboy is called in to check on a local agent of B.P.R.D who has gone MIA (Missing in Action) over three days ago. However, he finds you, a local witch, demeaning the young man for harassing a harmless group of monsters.

Sorry for the lateness of this!!

When HellBoy was given this job; he expected the worst.  Some poor agent obviously been eaten, torn to shreds or turned into some kind of monster. It wasn’t rare for this to happen, but it still didn’t make the job any easier. The agent’s mission summary was pretty straight forward. 

Find a nest of unknown monsters and report back. 

Hellboy’s mission was just as easily explained. 

Find the agent and bring him back. Dead or alive.

But unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy.  After the agent went MIA, not only did his reports stop coming in, but the trail went cold merely hours into Hellboy’s investigation.  So far, Hellboy managed to uncover the apartment the Human was using to scope out the nest. It sat adjacent to an over-pass, and nestled in-between a storm canal and the wall of the roads, was a mess of steel walls and carefully braided vines.  The nest, or more like a few small huts mushed together, was carefully out of sight from any passing Humans. But, in the abandoned building the agent had been held up in; it was in clear view. And whatever the agent found obviously hadn’t been happy with the Human’s intrusion. HellBoy had spoken with said nest, a nice bunch of grotesque looking beasts; but very hospitable. With some very nice home-made stew and a more than homely welcome. Especially after Hellboy arrived with nothing but a smile and the badge accompanying his reason of being nearby. The creatures explained that the idiot agent had opened fire on the young-lings that found him in his hide-out.  The Kids themselves were unharmed, but the trauma definitely added a few years of needed therapy. The kids then explained they wanted to invite the agent down for dinner, since he looked really cold up on top of the building over looking their home, but he got scared and tried to shoot them.

“I don’t think he understood us,” One of the kids said. Their accent was thick and heavy, almost too much for Hellboy to make out the words. “He seemed terrified when we told him we didn’t want to hurt him.”

Damned rookies. HellBoy had thought to himself. “Did he do anything else? Shoot at the nest? Make a call?” 

The creatures all shook their heads. The mother clutched her young-lings, soothing the smallest one as it sniffled quietly.  “The Human left in a hurry. But he didn’t get far.” The mother said. “Our neighbour heard the commotion and ran over. She took him away.”

Hellboy knew exactly who “she” was. He had hoped that she wouldn’t be involved. But she could smell trouble from a mile away. Especially if it was B.P.R.D. business. And she did love sticking her nose into B.P.R.D trouble. 

“She’s a witch, but we promise she didn’t hurt the Human!” The creature was quick to reassure Hellboy. He chuckled softly and waved his hand as a dismissal to their worries. 

“I know her. Don’t worry, she’s not in trouble. But the agent surely will be.” Hellboy assured them. Slurping down another bowl of stew the elderly creature handed him. The beasts only saw the agent once after that, when he came grovelling to them begging for their forgiveness and helping them clean up around their nest. But when he was done, he disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke. 

HellBoy would have to report the witch’s involvement. Thankfully the agency didn’t need her description or ID.  She was the only witch in town. And she was high on the “keep an eye on” list. But only because she’s more than once beaten some sense into some agents about non-human safety and information. She was the boogeyman seasoned agents told rookies about. 

The only thing was, her home was a bastard to find. Since she teleported around the city and barely let anyone inside. 

“I’m cautious,” She would say whenever HellBoy complained about it. 

“No, you’re a pain in the ass.” HellBoy would always reply. But he knew this world wasn’t exactly nice to magic users. He mostly just complained to be an annoyance. 

But this time, finding the moving house wasn’t as hard. It was nestled between two trees in the city’s larger parks. Protected and made invisible by magic. HellBoy would have liked to say he did a lot of really good detective work to find it. But in reality, he just dialled her emergency number and waited for her to pick up.

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

You left the stove on to simmer. Turning down the heat just a smidge so it didn’t boil over or start hissing angrily.  Your phone sat on the agent’s knee. Just where you left it; along with the threat of if he kept moving and dropped your phone on the tiled floor, you’d hex him.  A simple, vague but very open threat. 

The agent watched your every move as you approached. Flinching a little as you scooped up the phone and answered with a sing-song:  “Red! What’s up, Horny Boy.” 

“You know, the usual. Detective work. Search and rescue.” Hellboy replied. Keeping to the shadows of the buildings. But he really couldn’t avoid the people in the area as he crossed the street into the park. 

“Ah, so the Bureau finally realised it’s missing an idiot.” Your voice turned bitter at the words. Setting your gaze on the bound up man on your couch. He hadn’t moved in some time, but you had the chains around his ankles and wrists for that.

“Dad noticed the lack of stupid questions. You haven’t hurt him have you?” HellBoy asked. Ignoring the stares and side glances he attracted from the civilians who were using the park. Even with his hood up, people could see the obvious vast red chest poking through his jacket.  He wasn’t exactly subtle.

You snorted softly, an obvious irritated tone layering your voice. “I wish I could! He almost killed children, Red! He’s lucky it was me who found him. Or else we wouldn’t be talking about him.” 

“But instead you made him scrub a monsters nest and beg for his life.” HellBoy said with a grin. He adored how fired up you got about the people in his father’s agency. It was always a good show whenever you were called in to help HellBoy out with something. The venom between you and Professor Bruttenholm would make a dragon keel over and die. 

“I didn’t make him beg for his life... though that would have been satisfying.” You admitted and HellBoy laughed. Stepping though the sigil’s protective circle around your house, he waited by your door as he heard the room inside shift and change. 

Once your circle detected Hellboy’s presence, you left the large singular room that held the agent and stepped into an elevator. Once the silver gates were shut, it began to glide upwards. There was no grinding of metal or the screech of gears. Just the gentle, tell-tale tingle of magic wafting from your hands. It carried you up from the basement of your home to the front door.  The house itself was just a decoy. Something to keep intruders from getting to close to your actual home deep below.  A death-trap was a fine name for your the first floor. 

When the elevator came to a halt behind the front door, you hung up the phone and swung it open. Hellboy had just reached the house. Fist raised to knock.  He carried on the conversation as he stepped into the elevator next to you.

“Dad wouldn’t like this guy to be harmed, so is he badly injured from the kids or no?” HellBoy asked, having to duck his head to fit through the doorway. You shook your head. Replying as the gates closed behind him and the elevator started to sink into the floor.

“He wasn’t injured. A few bruises but that was his own fault. He fell down a flight of stairs when he was running away.” You explained and HellBoy couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“He’s new.” He told you. 

“I can tell.” You replied with a sour tone. Crossing your arms over your chest in an act of showing your irritation. But you chatted on the way down. It had been a few months since you and HellBoy got to talk without the Bureau breathing down your necks.  The last time you two talked was after you were hired to fight a coven of child-eating witches. It had been messy, and caused a small existential crisis in you. But it was for the greater good.  You may not get along with the Professor, but you two at least agreed that there were monsters that needed to be put down. And the Human race needed to be kept safe.  Even if you had to kill your own kind and witness horrific things; it needed to be done.

As the elevator came to a stop, the room opened up into the large basement. It didn’t look like any witch hovel, but that was one of the things HellBoy liked about you.  You were powerful, sure. But you kept to the modern times. Things were kept in jars, tinted so he couldn’t see the contents, but everything had a label. And mostly everything was inside fridges or hot boxes to keep fresh.  You had tvs and gaming consoles. A few computer monitors set up to keep an eye around your home. Music played through giant speakers hooked up to a blue-tooth device. Nothing gave off a rank smell. And the sofa looked clean, apart from where the agent sat with his hands and feet bound with silver and a rag stuffed into his mouth.  You ignored the agent and went over to the stove to check on your food. You weren’t in the mood to deal with his incoherent mumbling right now.

HellBoy however, whistled loudly as he approached the man. Taking a seat next to him and patting him on the shoulder.

“You look like shit.” HellBoy told him. Yanking the gag out of the agent’s mouth and throwing it on the coffee table. “So, had a nice visit with the witch?” 

“She’s crazy!” The agent hissed. Terrified eyes flicking between you and Hellboy. “She threatened me with a curse!” 

“Only to shut you up.” You sighed, slipping by the fridge to grab a beer. Chucking it to Hellboy as you approached. Shooting the demon a sharp look when he almost dropped the glass bottle. You sat on the arm of the couch next to Red. Glaring daggers at the agent as he started to shake.  He was sweating profusely and already there was a patch of moisture around his ass. “Oh come on! This couch is going to be a swimming pool if you keep doing that.” 

“S-Sorry,” The agent mumbled. And HellBoy shook his head, taking a swig from the beer as he playfully nudged the man with his shoulder. 

“Don’t worry about her. (Y/N) is a sweet-heart. A little crazy, but sweet.” 

“Watch it, Red.” You warned, but there was still a smile there. “I can still hex you, too.” 

“What could you do? Make me ugly?” Red asked. Leaning back against the couch, totally ignoring the hopeful look the agent was giving him. “Already beaten you too it, hag.”

“I could make you sexy. Wouldn’t that be a change.” You teased. Glancing down at the agent.  You sighed and clicked your fingers, releasing the magic that held the chains around his limbs. They fell away with a clatter of metal and the agent looked spooked enough to run. “Relax, rookie. You can’t leave the basement without my-” 

Before you could finish, the agent leapt across the coffee table and made a run for the desk on the far wall.  You watched him for a second, confused to what he was doing. Until your eyes latched onto the gun on the table he was running for.  You swore and dived behind the couch just as he reached it. You heard the bang, and somewhere glass shattered and a bullet ricocheted off the walls.  You didn’t raise your head until you heard a body hit the ground with a mere huff of air. 

Peaking around the side of the couch, you saw Hellboy reach down and grab the man by the scruff of his coat. And then, none to gently, flinging the man over his left shoulder. The gun lay crushed on the floor to his right. 

“Fucking hell.” You huffed. Standing up from cover to sit on the couch. Your hands shook and you felt your chest tighten. “I was gonna give him some of my spaghetti as an apology for my hospitality.”

Hellboy carried the man over to the elevator, throwing him inside and slamming the gate shut.  “To be honest, you should have kept him unconscious.” Hellboy grumbled. Coming over to sit next to you.  He was a little awkward with giving comfort, but he knew his presence was enough to help calm you down. His human hand took hold of yours, squeezing it as you leaned against him.

“I probably deserved it. I’m getting more witchy with my kidnappings now. More cackles and spell-work. Some of your dad’s men don’t seem to take witch’s seriously.” You said. And Hellboy nodded. 

“Dad has been considering making you a consultant with the new guys. Help them understand what they will be going up against.” Hellboy told you. Resting his temple against the top of your head. “After this, the agent will have to go through his training again. So, it’d be amusing to see him go through some drills with you in charge.” 

You chuckled at the thought.  It was a consideration you never thought would come around.  You hummed in thought. It wouldn’t be so bad working with the Bureau, but you’d have to take it up with the Professor before you took it on. 

“I’ll think about it.” You said. You then moved away from Hellboy, nudging him playfully. “You should get that fucker to a hospital. He looks like you hit him with a bus.” 

“First, I want some of that food.” Hellboy said. Wrapping his arm around you in a playful attempt to put you in a choke-hold. Laughing as he scrubbed his knuckles against the top of your head. Messing up your hair until you managed to struggle out of it.  You pushed him, poking out your tongue. 

“Fine, fine. But then I want that agent out of my house!”

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