#forgive me if it’s almost surely badly written or if it doesn’t make any sense

[gdrawsthings]

Irrational (ValdemarxReader one shot)

Rating: Teens+

Pairing: ValdemarxReader, slight JulianxReader

Warnings: mentions of gore

[[Drabble for a potential route in which Valdemar and the Apprentice were in love before the Plague]]

———

Valdemar hates doctor No. 069. They hate him with all their being. They hate him more than the idea of never being able to do their job ever again, of their hands being chopped off never to hold a scalpel again. They’re not sure why, or how, but, somehow, there’s just something about Julian Devorak that drives them out of their mind every time they catch a flicker of his red locks swiftly moving in the shadows or they meet his eyes in the dark.

They’re not the type to hate. Usually. They’re mostly indifferent to people - well, define “people”, Valdemar will tell you. If they’re the immobile victim strapped to their operating table, they will be the most interesting thing to look at in the entire universe as long as Valdemar’s hands are inside their entrails. But, as it would seem in Doctor Devorak’s case, there is always an exception to the rule. In Doctor Devorak’s case, Valdemar finds themself actively wishing he was dead.

They wish he was the next one they get to cut like a fish on the operating table. And it probably wouldn’t even matter if he was actually dead. Sometimes they like to imagine that he is still alive, not sedated, not anesthesized, imprisoned by ropes way too tight for his wrists, completely immobilized and screeching like a beast while they operate on his open, bleeding body; Valdemar feels a rush of pleasure run through their veins at the mental image of his terrified screams of anguish, such a sweet sounding cacophony to their ears for as long as he doesn’t pass out. They fantasize about cutting his lids off, so that he is forced to look at the face of his torturer while they hold the knife closer and closer to his pupils, until he gets only one breath away from madness. That’s the extent of Valdemar’s hate for him.

Since Doctor No. 069 has returned to Vesuvia, Valdemar has spent their days in the lab, daydreaming and waiting for the moment they will finally get their hands on him and experiment the hell out of his defenseless body. But in all of this daydreaming, their scientific side cannot ignore the one question that naturally comes to their mind.

Why do I want him to suffer so badly? Why him in particular?

It’s an irrational thought and an irrational urge, Valdemar knows that. There’s nothing the forgettable and useless medical assistant Julian Devorak could have done to trigger such a violent rage within them, not that they can remember at least. And yet, when they’re leaving the trial after briefly hearing him argue with you, the mysterious magician, over his innocence, in that moment more than ever they can’t help but desire for him to be ultimately declared guilty and hanged, and it’s just so easy and liberating for Valdemar to decide to leave the trial mid-testimony and go prepare the dissection table, euphoric while they wait to be the one to personally make sure doctor Devorak’s eyes will never see the light of the sun again, that the last warmth leaves his corpse from right under their crimson, joyful stare, as the smell of his fresh blood fills the air.

Sure enough, there’s nothing about Doctor Devorak that they like. But that could be said of just about anyone, if they are still breathing and awake. So then, again, why him in particular? Why the boiling need to see him hanging with their own two eyes? Why the tremor in their fingers whenever they see him parting his lips to talk with you?

If they try to rationalize it, they would describe it as the feeling that something they can’t understand is missing. The invisible last piece of a puzzle Valdemar didn’t even know they were playing with.

Something missing...

... You. The amnesiac magician’s apprentice with no defined powers nor a familiar; nor memories of anything before three years ago. When they think about it, even Valdemar can’t remember if they knew you before that time or not. That’s weird, given the pride they take in their exceptional memory. Now that they reflect about you, you’re even more of an anomaly than Doctor Devorak is.

They think back to the time the two of you had personally met. It was in front of the gate of the lift to the laboratory. Valdemar wonders if it even meant anything when they had felt a sudden sting of pain in their stomach upon seeing you in their close proximity. Still, wearing that malicious smile they always wear, they had shrugged and brushed it off as mere excitement. An anomaly is always terribly interesting to study and experiment on, after all. Yes, that was certainly the reason.

They also brushed it off when they realized they didn’t really need to use their hands to approximate the measurements of your body. Either they were extremely observant or they had some sort of previous knowledge of it, and Valdemar was inclined to think the latter couldn’t possibly make any sense.

How odd indeed...

When Valdemar’s fingers had grazed the sides of your face, the uncanny sense of familiarity - or maybe déja-vu? - still strong as they put your mask on, they noticed that, even through their gloves, your skin had felt so warm. They had found themself lingering there for a few seconds longer than strictly necessary.

A feeling of something missing... what was Valdemar missing?

What was it?

After you’d left, the pain in their stomach had returned, stronger than before.

It’s clearly unrelated. I’m looking too much into this, they tell themself, and since whatever is missing cannot be found, they can pretend they’re being honest with themself.

———

Valdemar doesn’t understand why they hate Julian Devorak so much. And they don’t understand the reason behind their feeling like they’ve known you in another life. Where there should be clarity, empty silhouettes are there instead, creating surreal shadows on the walls of the halls inside their mind.

All they know is that they loathe the way Julian looks at you, how his expression changes from seriousness to pure love and his features soften whenever he is in your presence. That they hate it so much and that he doesn’t deserve to feel that way about you, and that he never will.

They know there must be a meaning behind all this, behind this... this longing, behind this pain.

But they will never, never admit they are in despair.

[neapeaikea]

You Can Stay

I, much like every AK writer, am of course offering up my own Adrian/Deran reunion fic! We need all the 'Deran sees Adrian on a beach'-fics we can get! Obviously wrote and posted this a lot quicker than I usually would, so please excuse typos etc and hopefully it makes sense and doesn't have plotholes or comes across as too obviously written as a reaction to what we saw on the show. Honestly mate, I'm just happy Deran's alive but gdi we were denied a reunion!! Might end up revisiting this one, or write an entirely different reunion fic, there are a lot of thoughts right now.

It's available on AO3 here, but to make sure as many people as possible that need a little healing help right now sees it, it's also available here and under the cut.

______

Deran stays behind the treeline, like he has done for the previous two days. It’s safe there. There, he still has a choice. A chance. If he walks down onto the sand, approaches the water, he won’t have any other choice than to announce his presence to Adrian. Right now, there’s still a possibility that Adrian will be happy to see him, will take him into his arms, will love him. If Deran moves from his spot, he’s going to find out what Adrian’s real reaction will be, and Deran is scared shitless that it won’t be a positive one.

So he stays away from the beach, smokes some shitty Indonesian brand of cigarettes with more tar than nicotine at a roadside hut that apparently passes as a restaurant. His own bar would’ve counted as a Michelin-star establishment in comparison. He can’t fault their fried rice dishes though, and the beer is okay. The cigarettes truly are awful, but that doesn’t stop him from going through a pack in half a day.

He sees Adrian help a girl up from a surfboard on the sand, seemingly in the middle of beginner’s tutorial. He knows he’s unreasonably jealous of the girl, but he so badly wants to feel Adrian’s touch again. They’re too far away for Deran to really see their faces, but Adrian’s stance is easy and relaxed.

The first day Deran was here, when he first saw Adrian again, he was so close to rushing out, to beg for forgiveness, to ask for comfort. But he’d gotten close enough to see Adrian smile carefree, hear his laughter and he’d just stopped. In a second, before Adrian could spot him, Deran had run to hide behind some trees. He’d stood with his hands on his knees and had felt like retching.

You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.

He’d found a hostel to catch his breath at, then he’d started staking out the beach. For nearly three days now, he’s followed Adrian around, plagued with doubt and guilt. Is he really going to do this again, ruin Adrian’s life? What if he is happy? What if he is glad Deran isn’t in his life anymore? What if he loves someone else? Deran is going mad not talking to him, letting him know that he’s there. But he’s also so scared Adrian will turn away, and then Deran really won’t have anyone or anything left. He’s absolutely terrified of that outcome.

He’s also kind of happy, almost relieved. Adrian seems to have a job at some sort of establishment that is not only a bar but also offers surfing, scuba diving, fishing trips and plain old swimming lessons. Adrian’s left in the evenings for the same building that looks to be tiny apartments for the local workers in the tourist industry. Adrian’s talked to some randoms on the beach and people that must be his co-workers. Deran can’t tell if he looks happy, but from the outside, it does look like he’s got his shit together and isn’t strung out sleeping on the sand. Deran could leave now, without ever speaking to Adrian, and convince himself that Adrian is in a good place and will live happily ever after. Knowing that Adrian is alright, won’t that be worth a life of misery for Deran?

Deran’s spent nearly a year in utter hell. He’s grieved, drunk, robbed and fought his way across most of Latin America, the whole time wondering if there even was a reason to keep going. But every time he went down that dark, deep hole, he’d end up seeing Adrian, imagine being back in bed with him in their home, hear Craig say that’s the happiest he’s ever seen Deran. Fucking Craig. Of course his dead asshole brother is the one to not let Deran give up, and he uses Adrian to do it. The Codys can’t stop emotionally manipulating people even when they’re dead.

He spends most of the day in the same seat, one that has a view over the beach, where he can keep tabs on Adrian even if he’s mostly just a small figure walking between the bar and the ocean. Looks like he’s some sort of waiter for most of the afternoon. Deran wonders if he should go over there, order a Mai Tai and see what happens. Maybe it’s the sun, the glittering ocean, or the fact that he doesn’t feel like he needs to keep looking over his shoulder, but Deran’s thoughts actually turn somewhat optimistic. Adrian’s not like him, he’s not an asshole. If Deran goes over there, Adrian will at least talk to him, will offer him somewhere to stay. Maybe he’ll be able to finally make Deran exhale the breath he’s been holding since Craig died in his arms.

Adrian’s been inside for nearly an hour and Deran is close to going over there just to see what the fuck he’s doing, when Adrian comes back out from the wooden building, surrounded by a couple of other people. They’re all carrying something long and unwieldy and Deran actually stands up and does a doubletake when he sees them joining a group of other people on the beach, folding out what is apparently yoga mats on the sand. Deran laughs to himself. No fucking way. They used to make so much fun of the millennial hippies that did yoga on the beach, now Adrian is one of them?

Deran can’t help it, he’s amused and just a little curious at how bendy Adrian is, so he leaves a wad of cash on the table and walks closer. He makes sure to stay somewhat hidden, though he’s not sure Adrian would recognize him with his shorter, dyed dark hair and the huge aviator shades he has on.

Adrian looks good on the mat. He’s not as agile as some of the others, but he can hold the poses fine. He can’t be a newbie becuase his body flows from one movement to the next without interruption. His raggedy tank top keeps sliding up and down his torso, and Deran is finally close enough to see that Adrian still has a nice body. Deran’s body has more scars and bruises than ever. He’s got new ink too, to remind him of his brothers.

The yoga session lasts for half an hour. People roll up their mats afterwards, dispersing slowly. Adrian talks to the guy who was teaching the class. Deran’s moving before he’s really aware of it. He walks out onto the sand, has tons of it inside his Vans after just a few steps. He runs a hand through his hair and takes off his shades.

“Hey,” Deran says when he’s close enough.

Adrian looks over. He doesn’t react at first, then his eyes go huge and he looks around in confusion before focusing back on Deran, “Deran?”

“Yeah,” Deran stops a few paces away from Adrian, not sure if he’s welcome closer.

The guy Adrian was talking to takes the hint and walks away, leaving Deran and Adrian relatively alone on the strip of sand.

“Are you…” Adrian trails off.

“I’m sorry,” Deran says. He’s thought through this conversation a hundred times in the last years, but he’s woefully underprepared for it. Seeing Adrian up close, noticing how the sun has made his hair more red, the white rings around his eyes where he must use sunglasses, and the many freckles on his face and arms, it does things to Deran’s body and his head.

“I…” Adrian starts. He takes a step closer, “What’s… Deran.”

Deran’s eyes well up, and he can’t hide it in time, and suddenly Adrian’s arms are around him, wrapping him up in his warmth, making him feel cared for for the first time in forever. He’s had sex with people in the last year, but he’s barely let anyone touch him, not really.

Adrian’s arms are as strong as ever, and they feel so right around Deran’s sides. His hands run up and down Deran’s back, while he whispers comforting nonsense into Deran’s ears. Deran just cries harder at that, he was the one to send Adrian away, to destroy what they had together, and now he’s the one making Adrian take care of him. Adrian shouldn’t have to deal with Deran’s shit, his stupidity, his everything.

“I’m sorry,” Deran says again, voice thick with emotions, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, fuck, I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry.”

“Shouldn’t have come?” Adrian pulls back, but Deran throws his arms around him, forces him into a death grip. “Deran, I’ve been waiting for this day for years.”

“You have?” Deran asks, surprised. He looks up, meets Adrian’s eyes. They seem sad, worried. Deran wonders if it’s because of his current crying, or because of everything else.

Adrian swallows, searches Deran’s face, “For so long, I’ve just wanted to see you again. I had so much to say to you. But ever since I heard about Pope, about the breakout, I’ve just wanted to know that you’re okay. I’ve just wanted…”

 It’s Adrian who cries now, his voice breaking as he puts his head on Deran’s shoulder.

“I’m okay,” Deran says, a hand sliding up into Adrian’s hair, “I’m okay. I promise. I’m sorry. Fuck, I missed you so much. Can we, can we go somewhere?”

“Yeah, uh, shit,” Adrian makes a noise like he’s keeping snot from Deran’s t-shirt. “I gotta, uh, clear out from work, but I’ve got a place not far from here, hang on.”

When Adrian pulls away to reach for his yoga mat, Deran feels physically ill. He doesn’t want to let go, he wants to keep touching Adrian forever. They were never ones to hold hands or some such, but now Deran reaches out without hesitation. It’s not ‘til he’s got Adrian’s hand squeezed in his that he realizes it might not be welcome, so he pulls his hand back. He’s too scared to look Adrian in the eye, the fear of rejection suddenly on the forefront of his mind. But then Adrian’s fingers tangle around his, and the vice around Deran’s heart loosens slightly.

They walk hand in hand, and Deran tries to feel like no one’s watching. They probably aren’t.

“Uh, my name’s Johnny here,” Adrian says quietly. “You?”

“Mark. Mark Smith.”

Adrian laughs, “So we’re gonna be Marky and Johnny? Perfect.”

Deran’s heart skips a beat at the insinuation that they’ll be anything together. He knows absolutely nothing has been said or decided yet, not really. “First person to call me Marky, I’ll beat the fuck up.”

“I bet you will,” Adrian mutters. “Some people call me Joe. Stay here.”

Deran waits outside while Adrian goes into the building, which Deran can finally tell has a seating area but also a large reception area where different corners are reserved for different activities. Adrian starts by heading towards the regular training area to leave the yoga mat, and then goes to the surf area. Deran watches as Adrian exchanges a few words with a guy who looks as much a Westerner as Adrian and Deran. Despite the fact that they’re in a smaller, out-of-the way town, there seems to be more tourists and ex-pats than Indonesians.

A couple of minutes later, Adrian comes back out. He doesn’t reach for Deran’s hand and Deran doesn’t dare make a move of his own. He does walk a lot closer to Adrian than needed, their shoulders constantly brushing. He takes comfort in the fact that Adrian doesn’t move away. Deran knows it’s just over five minutes to the building Adrian lives in, but he lets Adrian tell him about it on the way over there, and about how it’s building where mostly season workers from all over the world stay for the weeks or months they’re in town. Adrian’s lived there for over a year, it’s him and two Germans that make up the old guard by now.

It's a one-room apartment, a bed off to the side, a small kitchenette near the entrance where a table is cluttered with dirty dishes. There’s a bathroom and a wall of glass windows that look out over the beach. It’s not cozy, and it’s not a home. It’s just somewhere to stay.

“Home, sweet home,” Adrian sighs, picking up a hoodie from the floor and throwing it onto the bed. He turns around, studies Deran for a moment. “Come here.”

Adrian’s barely said the words before Deran’s back in his arms, the tears spilling out again without his permission. He thought he was done crying, that he didn’t have tears left. He’s spent so many days since he first sent Adrian away with puffy, red eyes, a splitting headache and bone deep tiredness. But here he is, breaking all over again. Adrian’s crying too, Deran absently notes. It’s not the body wracking, heaving sobs that Deran can’t seem to stop, but silent, small tears.

Adrian guides them to the bed, and they lie there for long minutes, arms around each other and legs tangled. It’s warm, a sticky heat in the room that isn’t helped by them lying so close. Deran feels disgusting with tears and snot all over, but he also feels amazing because Adrian’s fingers are rubbing the side of his neck, and he’s kissing Deran’s forehead.

“What happened?” Adrian asks quietly when Deran’s finally calmed down. “I heard about Pope, Jess told me. But she could never find out about you, or Craig.”

“Craig’s dead.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Deran’s not ready to tell the whole story. “J fucked us over. He took all the money and left us all for dead.”

“He did?” Adrian shifts around, leaning up on his elbow. Something on Deran’s face must tell him to not push for more, because he clams up, looks away.

“I should’ve gone with you. I should’ve gone fucking with you. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” Deran turns his head away, wonders if it will ever stop hurting.

Adrian doesn’t say anything. But he has a hand on Deran’s side, and where his t-shirt rides up, Adrian’s thumb is pressed against his skin.

“Where have you been since then?” Adrian asks eventually.

“Trying to get here,” Deran says, voice raspy. “Didn’t have any money, didn’t know if I could use the passport I had, didn’t know if J was coming for me, had to stay away from the heat for a long fucking time. Shit was… fuck.”

“And now? Is anyone coming for you?”

Deran shakes his head, “Nah. I’ve got nothing, and with everyone else dead, nobody is gonna spend time and effort on me. I doubt even the feds are looking for me.”

“Yeah,” Adrian lies back down. “Keep it that way, okay? Whatever you end up doing here, don’t let it be crime. The prisons here, they’re no joke. I could probably get you a job at the bar. Oh, Soran would be glad to have some muscle on weekends for the nightclub. You can’t beat people up too much, though, no cops, remember.”

Deran blinks, “I can – you want – I can stay?”

“Yeah. You can stay. I don’t know how we’re gonna… I don’t know. But you can stay. I’m not gonna let you leave. Not ‘til I know what I want.”

Deran’s the one to shift then, leaning over Adrian, “Do you… do you still… feel that way, about me?”

“Like I hate you? I’ve hated you so much, for so long. When I heard about the breakout, and I never got any news about you, I guess I stopped. There was no point hating you any longer. Worried instead.”

“What about the other way?” Deran asks, because that was what he really wanted to know. He’s been clinging on to the slight possibility that things might not be a messy dark chaos for the rest of his life.

Adrian looks pained, “Have you ever stopped?”

Deran frowns.

“Feeling that way about me,” Adrian clarifies.

Deran leans in. Adrian has never, ever, been more beautiful. Deran says it quietly, almost a murmured prayer, “I love you. Always.”

Adrian closes the distance, kisses him with dry lips that taste amazing through the beer, cigarettes, sand and ocean water. When he pulls back, he sighs. “You don’t have to like someone to love them.” He pulls on Deran’s short hair, “I’ll like you a lot better when you’re blond again. I don’t know about this look on you.”

Deran laughs in surprise, “I don’t like it either. It was just for the trip.”

“I know,” Adrian says. He puts a hand on Deran’s cheek, like he knows Deran needs all the physical comfort he can get after going without for so long. Maybe Adrian needs it too. “Yeah, I feel that way about you, still. I don’t know if it matters or where it leaves us, but yeah. I love you.”

Deran’s heart doesn’t burst into fireworks, he doesn’t feel elated or weak in the knees. He just feels like a part of him is stitching itself back together, and it feels unexpectedly good. He keeps eye-contact with Adrian, the two of them stuck inside a bubble of uncertainty and hesitation. They’re gonna need so much time, and so many words.

“Well, then. I guess we should see about that job at the bar.” Deran says. He curls up against Adrian, “Tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Adrian slides his arm around Deran’s side, “Tomorrow.”

[plsimsuchasimp]

cheating.

part 2 here

Ft: Suna Rintarou x !gn reader, a little bit of atsumu miya x !gn reader

Genre/warnings: one (1) curse word, cheating, brief implied sex, angst, hurt/comfort, fighting

Wc: 1.8k

NOT PROOFREAD!

a/n: i’m so sorry for this angst but i had to do it for y’all... didn’t have it in me to write a happy ending, maybe later.

The rain was pouring down, clattering against the roof of the gym. You, sitting against the wall in a corner by the benches, watched Suna’s team play, smiling slightly at the way they seemed to seamlessly move together. Your boyfriend looked concentrated, green eyes flickering from one player to another. 

His phone buzzed beside you, and you picked it up, intending to set it to Do Not Disturb so you could do work, but the notification caught your eye. 

“Hey!” It read, “it was so good to meet you >;) you made me feel good <3″

Instantly, your heart drops into your stomach. Silently willing for the notification to disappear, your eyes cling to the screen as yet another popped up. “I miss you babe, we should do that again”

Your eyes begin to burn, trying to deny the obvious truth of what you saw in front of you. Suna Rintarou had cheated on you, and from the looks of it, with a stranger. You swallow, hard, as the lump in your throat grows and tears begin to form in your eyes. No wonder he’d been overly affectionate in the past week, he probably felt guilty.

What hurt most wasn’t that he didn’t tell you, pretended that everything was fine; no, it was the realization that you just weren’t enough for him. All the time you’d spent on him, everything you’d done, the words of confirmation and the countless amount of love and affection you’d given him, it all wasn’t good enough. 

You were bad enough for him to seek loving in a stranger’s arms.

Clicking the phone off, you put it down and stared into space for a moment, fighting the tears that threatened to spill onto your cheeks at any second. Practice was wrapping up, and you couldn’t face Suna right now. Luckily for you, he was on cleanup duty this week, so he had to stay late. 

Trying to shake the rigidity out of your limbs, you gathered your things and stuffed them into your bag, not taking the time to organize them so they all fit. Head down, you headed for the door, hoping that Suna wouldn’t look over. Opening the door, you were faced with another harsh realization: It was raining and Suna was supposed to drive you home. That wasn’t happening today, for sure. Glancing around, you spotted Atsumu pulling his umbrella out of his bag, and rushed over to him.

“Hey Atsumu,” you said, attempting to keep your voice steady, “Can I catch a ride with you?” He was going to ask why, when Suna had a perfectly good car, but then he caught a glimpse of the tear streaking silently down your face and decided it might be better to wait until later.

Unusually serious, he agreed and put a comforting hand on the small of your back as you two hurried out of the door under his umbrella. Opening his car door for you, he let you in and then went over to the driver’s side, sliding in and turning on the car so it would warm up. 

Stealing the occasional look at you, he noticed you were shaking and turned up the heat in the car although he was warm from volleyball practice. He started driving, sensing that you didn’t want to talk. Jaw clenched, he drove in silence for a couple minutes, then dared to speak.

“Hey, are you okay?” Hearing sniffles from your side of the car and seeing your shoulders shake, he pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. Gulping, he awkwardly reached out a hand to pat you on the back, but this only made you cry harder.

Looking up to face him, tear streaks staining your cheeks, you tried to stop shivering from shock. “S-Suna,” you mumbled, fighting to keep your voice from completely breaking, but another sob escaped before you could get anything more out.

“Wha’? Suna what?” he prodded, brow furrowing in concern. You rarely cried, so he knew this was something really serious.

“Suna c-cheated on me.” The last couple of words were whispered, your voice breaking, and Atsumu’s mouth dropped open. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, it wasn’t that. Your relationship with Suna had always seemed perfect. He’d seen the way Suna looked at you, his eyes soft, seen the way his behavior changed around you, seen his eyes light up whenever you smiled. This wasn’t possible.

He opened his mouth, shutting it again when words failed him. You were hunched in the passenger’s seat, shaking so hard he could hear your elbows accidentally hitting the car door. Without a second thought, he took his sweatshirt off and covered you with it, hoping that it would warm you up at least a little bit. 

“I- I’m so sorry,” he muttered, unsure how to comfort a clearly distraught you. As soon as your shudders subsided, his mind turned to Suna and what he would do next time he saw him. No doubt he deserved to be beat up for what he did to you, hurting you like that, but it just didn’t make sense. Suna was totally in love with you, and it was obvious to any outsider. 

He started the car again, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your shoulder, trying to calm you down. “Y/N, I’m gonna drop ya off at home, okay?”

A quick nod from you reassured him, and you two drove with just the raindrops crashing down on the roof of the car. When you arrived at your house, you made a motion to give back his sweatshirt, but he just waved a hand and said “Don’t worry about it. Ya can return it to me when I next see ya.” Your lips trembled and you turned away from him, making the way to your door and letting yourself in. He didn’t leave until he saw that you were inside, then started driving back to the gym.

You shed your jacket and turned on the heater in your house, not bothering to turn on the lights or draw the curtains. Kicking your shoes off, you crawled into bed and under your blanket and let the tears come, hugging the pillow that smelled too much like Suna.

Meanwhile at the gym, Suna was just finishing up and wondering where you’d gone to. The guilt of his mistake still hung with him, and he was looking to take you out to dinner tonight and spend some more time with you. However, when he saw his phone laying faceup, the bold words in text still plainly on the screen, he knew that you’d found out, and his heart contracted. Sinking to his knees, he struggled to breathe through the upcoming panic. He was in love with you, and he had no idea what had possessed him to fall into someone else’s arms for the night.

The feeling surged when he remembered that one of your biggest fears/insecurities was not being good enough, and a short gasp fell out of his mouth as he realized just how much he’d messed up. The gym door swung open, banging against the wall with the sheer force of the push. There stood Miya Atsumu, a murderous expression on his face.

“Suna!” He barked, and the middle blocker glanced up briefly before returning his attention to the phone clutched in his hands, frantically pressing the call button as it once again went straight to voicemail. The sound of your voice was almost too much for him to bear, his breathing accelerating and his head pounding. 

y/n please pick up please i’m so sorry i swear i didn’t mean it they mean nothing to me i love you i love you so much please don’t leave me

His fingers speed across the keyboard, hoping against hope that you’ll talk to him. Any sort of contact. The phone is suddenly knocked from his hand by Atsumu, the look on his face nothing short of furious. 

“What the fuck were ya thinking?” He spits, rage evident in the bulging veins of his neck. “You hurt y/n so badly that they had to drive home with me rather than face another second of ya.”

His words stung Suna, because they both knew they were true. He doesn’t resist when Atsumu pulls him to his feet, glaring at him and shoving him towards the wall. 

“You’re pathetic. Y/N is the best person ya will ever meet, and ya ruined it all.” Once again, Suna doesn’t reciprocate, his eyes falling miserably to the ground. Atsumu’s fist comes up and hits Suna straight in the stomach, forcing the breath out of his lungs as he collapses to the floor. Atsumu looks at him with an expression of pure disgust, walking away to leave Suna where he is, slumped against the wall.

His eyes are dull, the life drained out of them, because he knows Atsumu is right. A notification causes his phone to buzz and he picks it up immediately, hoping to see anything from you, but it’s just another text from the fling. Hatred for himself and the person fills him, and he slams his phone down, allowing his head to sink into his knees. 

He needs to see you, so he grabs his stuff and rushes to his car, barely remembering to lock the gym on his way out. Going ten miles above the speed limit, he makes it to your house ten minutes after you had. 

Walking up to your front door, he knocks urgently, over and over again. He hears shuffling from behind, and the door opens to reveal you in an oversize sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to him and sweatpants, eyes red and puffy from crying. 

The instant you see him, time seems to stop. The hurt is written all over your face, and the regret all over his. He can’t seem to move, can’t do anything besides whisper your name.

“Y/N.” 

You shake your head, new tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and turn away. “I don’t want to talk to you, Suna.” 

With those words, his heart shatters a little bit more. He was your Rin, your Rinnie, never Suna. “Please-” the door slams in his face and he hears the lock turning, signaling the final goodbye. He screams, pounding on your door as the panic overtakes him. 

“Please! I love you! I’m so sorry, just please don’t leave me! I’ll go insane if you do!” Tears stream down his face and yours, mourning each other on opposite sides of the door. His words wrack you, tempt you to open the door and forgive him, but you can’t. He already showed you he didn’t care.

Half an hour passes, with the yells from the door fading into whimpers. Finally, you hear a car door slam, and you allow yourself to sob, held immobile on the floor. 

You’re broken, and it’s his fault. His head falls onto the steering wheel, not caring that it sets off the car horn.

Still, the rain patters on the roof, both of you less than three hundred feet apart, but forever separated.

He’ll never love anyone like he loved you.

[lalahbug]

Guidance - Zuko x Reader Chapter 2

Fandom: Avatar: the Last Airbender  Word Count: 5,5 My Masterlist Warnings/disclaim: general Characters are aged up Refer to first chapter for information on timeline ___ is a blank for your name/oc/whatever you prefer Written in 3rd person Line/header is to separate paragraphs to indicate time skips, as Tumblr hates my formatting. Story under cut, 2 of 8: Guidance Masterlist

         Rustling sounds again woke Zuko, as he cracked his eyes open, he could see ___ up and ready for the day, carrying in the large pots of salt inside the tent. He sat up and eyed her a bit, she looked fine, but he was still concerned about her from last night.            “Morning, I just have one more basin then we can try to camouflage the tent and head out. I’ve already got the ostrich-horse packed up too.”            “Okay,” he stood up and stared at her for a bit.            “What’s wrong?”            “What happened last night?”            “Walking in town takes a couple of hours, which should be shortened with riding. But I’ll tell you everything on the way there, okay?”   Zuko mumbled an okay out before helping with everything to get them on to the road.  

         Riding silently, ___ sat in front of Zuko as they rode towards town. The ostrich-horse was going slower due to all the weight and packing he had on him.            “So?” Zuko asked as the silence went on too long for his liking when he wanted answers.            “Well, um, I’m not sure where to begin,” she hummed while thinking. “Oh, I guess how I learned everything would be a good start.”            “So, the beginning, which is usually a good place to start any story,” Zuko grumbled.            “Oh shush,” she pushed him a bit jokingly away with a laugh before clearing her throat a bit. “After leaving home, as the angry young teenager I was, I was struggling badly just within a few days. On land seemed even harder. But I was in the Earth Kingdom when an older couple saw I was near starvation and took me in. The old lady taught me cooking, some edible plants, and how to mend things. The man taught me some tracking and repair. I was with them for a month or so. They helped a lot of people who passed through, they’re great people, when I’m near them I usually go see them, check on them.            “While we were eating dinner one night, they had another traveler there. Who was looking for a lost library, in the desert. I was very interested so when the traveler left, I went with him. I don’t remember him much; we didn’t talk about anything other than the library. We stopped at an oasis, which wasn’t really an oasis anymore, and when he went inside to get a drink. I saw a fox, known for gathering things for the library. I followed it immediately.            “Somehow I kept up even in the sand. The fox went into a tower that stuck out of the sand. I climbed up and in, and when I landed. I was confronted by Wan Shi Tong, the spirit who runs the library. He told me I wasn’t welcome and that I needed to leave. Being the emotional child, I was after everything that happened. I broke down crying. Wan Shi Tong asked me what was wrong, I told him everything. I told him all that I wanted was to learn, I wanted to be like the old people who helped me. I wanted to know how to protect myself and live on my own.            “Wan Shi Tong explained to me that humans, in general, were not welcome, because they abused the knowledge in his library, but since he felt I was sincere, he let me stay. I think he either took pity or a liking to me, as he gave me food and water. I stayed there for almost a year. I ate, read, practiced some waterbending and chi blocking, and slept, that’s all I did for that year. Before I left, I started to learn more about the spirit world from texts and Wan Shi Tong, I had become very spiritual. Meditating became a part of my life at that point. Which I’m sure you’ve seen me do from time to time.”            ___ stopped talking and took a drink of water.            “So that’s why you know so much, you’ve very cultivated. But that doesn’t explain last night.”            “Okay, okay,” she grumbled. “I made my way out of the desert and into Earth Nation forest. Putting all my reading and knowledge into practice, living on my own. Some Fire Nation soldiers had found me, I used the opportunity to do chi blocking, thankfully I was good at it. I ran away after they were all down. While getting as much distance as I could between me and the soldiers. I slugged through a wide river which the full moon shined down on, I slipped in the water, cutting my hand as I caught myself. I went to heal the cut, but the water around me glowed.            “I was pulled under the water, but I could breathe, so I tried to not panic and closed my eyes. When I could no longer feel the water around me, I opened my eyes. It took me a while to figure it out, but I was in the spirit world. After reading and learning about the spirit world I was weary and quiet, scared to anger any spirit or run into malicious ones.            “Eventually, Avatar Roku found me. We talked for a long time. About the war, my future, and why I was there. With me finding passion in spirits and with the path my life was to follow, the spirit world accepted me. In short, I will be helping Avatar Aang, spiritually. Aang will face a deafening defeat, I am supposed to help him reconnect his chakras.”            “He also mentioned, I would be faced with a challenging choice, to forgive someone or not. But knowing myself and how I am. I will offer the second chance."          "But why?"            "Do you have things you regret? Do you wonder how different your life would be if someone gave you another try, to right your wrongs? I do, I regret leaving my home in anger. I wonder how I would be if they let me come home when I cried for forgiveness and apologized for my ways. That I was no longer angry and I missed my home, my people. But they didn't care, I was unwanted there. So, I don't belong anywhere, but if I follow my path. One day, maybe I will be able to be myself and still be loved. What more could you ask for but freedom to be who you are?"            "But you're not a bad person, you should be able to be yourself."          She scoffed, "the moment I show that I'm a strong fighter and independent. I show I can't be an obedient timid wife that most people think I should be."          "I think it's better that you can protect yourself. I think it's a good thing."            "Well, you'd be the first. Thank you." She turned a bit to give him a heartfelt smile, making him look away as he blushed. She giggled at it.            "What?" He spat.            "You're cute, Zuko."            "So are you, ___," now it was her turn to turn away with blush, making him chuckle.            After some thinking and silence, Zuko spoke up. "I don't know if I regret speaking out against my father's plan. It felt wrong to sacrifice so many men. I do wish my father would have given me another chance though, I guess him sending me after the Avatar was his way to do that. So I can regain my honor."          "I've said it once and I'll say it forever. You were a child, what your father did was wrong. You aren't a failure, you're better than him and nothing like him. He can’t strip you of your honor, it is what you hold and how you follow your life, your destiny."            Zuko grunted he didn't like it when she said that, it hurt, like his heart was being split in half. As if it was starting a war within him.            “Zuko,” she started in a soft tone, ”if your father loved you. Avatar or not, you would be home. You wouldn’t be wanted, dead or alive, you’d be wanted at least alive. Be your own person, I believe your destiny will be putting balance to the world your forefathers have destroyed.”            “I don’t want to talk about this, you don’t know me, my family! You can’t just say shit and think I’ll follow the words like a lost goatdog! I am my own person!”          “Then why are you here?” She turned to look at him, serious and hard. Zuko gulped a bit for her cold glare. “If you're your own person then why do you care so much about pleasing an abusive father? What false love and honor could restore you when you can't even be truthful to yourself? You don’t want my advice, don’t take it. But don’t snap at me either, boy.” She spat the word boy at him before jumping off the animal.            She stood tall and proud, even though small in stature, she reigned power around her. “I want an apology or you can give me stuff and git!”            Zuko looked down at the reins in his hands, even though he hadn’t stopped the ostrich-horse, it stopped from her words. He was shaking, he couldn’t tell if it was from anger or sadness. But he knew she was only trying to help, that’s all she’s done for him. Never asking for anything in return other than assistance with chores.            “Zuko!” He snapped his head towards the sound of his name, seeing her face go from stern to soft. ___ climbed up onto the animal and gently wiped away tears he didn’t even know were falling. “I know you’re lost; I know you’re confused. But do not talk down to me, okay?” Her voice was so gentle and warm, he didn’t know what to do.            Embracing her urgently and lying his head on her shoulder, she stiffened for a moment before pulling him closer and rubbing his back softly. “I’m sorry,” he sobbed into her shoulder.            “Oh, sweetie.” ___ pulled him back from her shoulder and wiped his tears away carefully. “I’m sorry I snapped. I guess I still need to work on my anger a bit. We both do. Let’s do it together, okay?” He nodded before pulling her back to him, he could barely make sense of how good it felt to hold her. He felt whole, safe, and tranquil.            “Can you stay here, in my arms for a bit?” His request was barely above a whisper.          She exhaled sharply, a small laugh, “only if we keep moving.” She adjusted herself to sit sideways then rested her head and body into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her before flicking the reins to send them back into motion.            “___?”            “Yes?”            “I want to help you in town.”            “That’s the plan, for you to help and learn.”            “Not just that, but with that guy, so he doesn’t bother you.”            “Oh, no, I don’t want any fighting okay?”            “What if I pretended to be your boyfriend? Would he leave you alone?”            “Um,” she flushed a bit before clearing her throat. “I guess. But it wouldn’t be just him, it’d have to be the whole town. It’s a small town, people talk, they’d be able to tell if we lied. It's exhausting to pretend and put on a façade all the time.”            “But don’t you do that already? Pretend to be timid and gentle.”            “Yes, that’s why I know it’s exhausting. I can show I'm a hard worker but I can’t show I’ve got my own mind and how hard-headed I am.”            “But you never pretend to be caring and nice.”            “I just try to do what feels natural while I bite my tongue.”            “I pretend to be a traveler with bad manners.”            “I don’t think you pretend too much on the bad manners.” She giggled, Zuko grumbled. “Thank you for the offer, but I couldn’t put you in that position. Also, I would be questioned all the time once you leave.”            Zuko was wordless and lost, his heart was pounding at the thought of leaving her. “Are you okay?” ___ asked with her head still on his chest. “Your heart is beating so fast.”            He rubbed the back of his neck, dropping the rein and clearing his throat into his fist a bit. “I’m fine. ___?”            “Hhm?” she hummed.            “I like you.”            “I like you too.”            “No, I mean, I really like you. I wanted to show I could be a good boyfriend, that’s why I offered to be a pretend boyfriend. To prove it to you.”            “Zuko,” she lifted her head and smiled at him gently. “You don’t need to prove it to me right away. Just show me over time.” ___ gently touched his cheek. “Will you be my boyfriend?” Zuko blushed light at her words, but nodded.           “Have you been with anyone else?” he wanted to know if she had past relations but didn't know how to phrase it otherwise.            “Yes, I've had one boyfriend before. It was 2 years ago. We hit a path in our relationship where we weren't communicating honesty and the base of our relationship that was on common ground dissipated. We were decent friends before and the relationship was mainly physical. It had nothing to do with destiny but who we were.”            “What’s our common ground?”            “We’ll find it, for now, we can be caring for each other.”            “Okay,” Zuko mumbled, ___ sat up a bit more to look at him more clearly. Golden eyes quickly caught hers. Moments ticked by as talons trudged the dirt path, their bodies moved closer together. ___ closed her eyes leaning closer to Zuko, he felt panic, fear, and jealousy. What was her ex like? Zuko was inexperienced, could he please her at all?            “Zuko?” She looked at him concerned. “Sweetie, what's wrong?” He looked away but didn't answer. “I'm not sure what's wrong, but if it was me, I'm sorry. We just became partners and I go and assume and rush things.” She settled against him and put her head on his shoulder. “I'll wait for you, do what feels natural to you, don't force anything.”            Zuko wanted to kick and burn himself. His insecurities made her feel like she did something wrong. He wanted to kiss her, but his fears held him back.  

         Silence was awkward for a bit but as they cuddled and rested against one another, it became comfortable.            “We’re here,” ___ sat up a bit pulling away from Zuko and stretching her arms. Zuko wrapped an arm around her waist when she was done and pulled her back to him. She smiled at him.            They reached a store where they could hitch the animal. Zuko jumped down and immediately offered to help ___ down into his arms. She glanced down at him, before looking over to another guy and smiled at Zuko. “Catch me, Lee!” she giggled and jumped into his arms. He chuckled and hugged her close before resting his forehead against hers.            “Hey ___, where have you been?” She pulled away from Zuko a bit.            “Oh, hey Kyo. I was just living off the land. But I’m here now to help and sell.”          “That’s good, I think my dad needs me to do a delivery but since my mom’s sick, he needs help with the store.” Kyo was talking level but kept glancing at Zuko.          “Oh no, I’ll look at her, see if I can heal her at all. If not, if your delivery doesn’t take too long, I or Lee can help your dad.”            “I’m guessing your Lee,” Kyo looked fully at Zuko now. “I’m Kyo.” He offered a hand to shake hands, when Zuko went to shake hands, Kyo tried to crush his hand, thankfully Zuko was strong enough for it to not work.            “Yup, Lee here.” ___ snorted slightly at his awkwardness.            “How’d you meet ___?”            “Wandering through the forest, smelt food. She fed me and I’ve been with her since.”          “Oh, so your good friends?”            “No, I’m her boyfriend,” Zuko deadpanned and wrapped an arm around her tightly.            “Oh, she didn’t turn you down?”            “No, because I’m here to support her, as needed because she’s strong without me.”          Kyo just stared at Zuko for a moment, “how are prices on baskets today?” ___ chirped.          "___, for your baskets, always good,” a hearty laugh came from the store, Kyo’s father, Rin came out. “I need more watertight ones. You’re my best supplier for those!”            “Well you’re in luck, I have a surplus, I was teaching Lee so I ended up with tons. They’re all flatten, so check them and if there are any breaks, I’ll fix it!” She gestured to a pile on the back of the ostrich-horse.            “Perfect, welcome back!” Rin laughed and picked up the pile and went into the store, she followed after him so they could settle on prices.            “Lee, can you unpack Gray?”            “Gray?”            “The ostrich-horse,” she piped.            “You named him without my say?”            “You just called him animal, that’s not nice,” she giggled as she went into the store.            Zuko groaned before going to Gray and starting to unpack him so he could rest.          “You’re just going to let her boss you around? That’s not how a woman should be.” Kyo stated.            “She asked me, we’re partners, we help each other, that’s what lovers should do. I’d rather she could protect herself and maybe even help me in a fight, then be someone I’d have to worry about even more than normal. I worry about her, but, because I know she can protect herself, I don’t have to protect her and myself unless necessary.” Zuko ranted this out a bit, while unpacking, he could see what ___ meant by Kyo being a bother. He seemed to have a knack for being under one's skin.            “She’s a woman, she needs a man’s protection.”            “She needs someone who understands her and supports her. Woman or not, she’s her own person. She should be free to be herself!” Zuko shouted at him. “___ is my girlfriend; I ask you to leave your sexist ideas and respect her or leave her alone!”            “Lee!” ___ called out to him. “I told you no fighting,” she ran up and held his hands. “Zuko, calm down, your hands are so hot, don’t firebend here.” She whispered to him.            Kyo laughed, “she really does boss you around don’t she?”   ___ gave him an annoyed grunt, before turning on her heel and quickly jabbing Kyo, making him fall to the ground. “That’s enough out of you!”            “Kyo, I thought I taught you to pick your battles, not to pick on others, you’re in big trouble young man!” Rin yelled at Kyo while trying to pick him up. “Get your butt inside!”            “He can’t move.” She stated simply. “But if he apologizes to me and Lee, I’ll heal him.”            “Never, you got a cheap shot.”            “Fine, lie there and if you want, later I’ll do it again and again. Until you get it through your thick head, I don’t like you any more than a friend. That I’m not some weak woman, and I will not be pushed around and bite my tongue around you anymore.” She turned to pick up a basin and handed it to Rin. “Here are some cured meats.”            “Thank you for putting up with my son and still being nice to us.”            “I let it happen, I pretended to be someone I’m not. Lee and I had a talk about it on the way here, and it stuck to me. If I’m not accepted then I’ll just move on. But I want to be myself more often.”            “That's a good thing to follow.” Rin smiled at her, Zuko put his arm around her shoulders. “Well this will be his punishment; he can stay there until the chi flows again.”            “What?!” Kyo yelled.            “You lie there and think about your actions. If you shape up, I won’t tell your mom, otherwise, I will. If she gets wind of this, you’ll regret it,” Kyo groaned at his father’s words.            “How is Fay, Kyo did mention she’s sick?” ___ asked.            “She could be better; she has a fever that won’t break. Medicine isn’t working and I can’t take her into the city, it’s too far.”            “Let me finish my trading and sell, let the Long's know I’m here and will need their extra room and I’ll be back to check on her.”            “Thank you,” Rin gave her a relieved smile.            “We’ll be back soon,” ___ picked up her backpack and the goods she needed. “Can we leave Gray here? When we come back to check on Fay, we’ll ride him to the Long's.”            “Yes, of course.”            ___ thanked Rin and headed into town selling and trading for supplies. Zuko stayed close by, listening, and learning. Even though he planned to stay with her, it wouldn’t hurt to learn so he could help in the future.            Entering the last shop of the row of stores an elderly woman lit up at the sight of the young women.            “___, my dear!”            “Himari, you ready to trade and buy?” The old woman embraced ___ tightly before smiling and nodding in response.            “Oh, who is this?”            “This is my boyfriend, Lee,” ___ grabbed his hand gently and he intertwined their fingers.            “How wonderful,” she beamed at the young couple. “Okay, enough pleasantries, show me what you got!”            The women talked and bartered for about an hour or so over multiple beautiful items. “Alright, you win, but I want two pearls!” ___ huffed in defeat over their bargaining.            “I have oysters outback, unopened. You can have 5, if you get them yourself.”          ___ thanked Himari before heading outside to get her oysters.            “Lee was it?” Himari asked Zuko once ___ was gone. He nodded gently. ���Good, now come here,” she gestured to the stool ___ had been in. Zuko raised his eyebrow in question before doing so.            “___ loves flowers, but her favorite,” she paused while pulling out a box. “Are sunflowers.” Opening the box allowed Zuko to see a beautiful pendant, shaped and colored as a sunflower, but a crescent moon covered some petals. “This was very expensive, I've tried selling it to ___, she loves it but can't justify spending the money on it. She's water tribe and a pendant like this would make a beautiful betrothal necklace.” Zuko eyed it. He'd seen one before, the one he used to track the Avatar through Katara’s necklace.            “I don't have any money, ___ found me at my worst,” he looked away.            “Answer me this. If you did have the means to get this necklace to one day propose to ___, would you?”            “I’m not sure,” he furrowed his brow. “We haven't been together long, but I don't plan on leaving her at all. If she were to keep me, I might ask her to marry me one day…” he trailed off.          “I have a lot of work I need to be done around here, hard labor, easy for a young and strong firebender.”            “I’m not-"            “You can’t lie and trick me boy, I’m too old for my own good. If you want this pendant, show up tomorrow to help me and the rest of the days you’re here with ___.”          He gave her a nod as ___ walked in. “Himari, what are you plotting?” ___ asked, seeing the two sitting closer together than she left them.            “I’m a frail old woman, I was recruiting your boyfriend for some help,” she smiled softly at the young couple.            “Okay, but don't work him too hard, he has to help me with somethings around town.”          “You can have him back by noon each day. So you two can eat together then work together.”            ___ agreed and bid Himari a farewell. Zuko followed suit with a bow and followed his girlfriend outside. They walked hand in hand, Zuko wore her backpack, since she had it all afternoon. Their walk wasn’t too long until the sounds of animals could be heard.            “The Long’s, Yuto and Akari, own a farm, tons of animals, super fresh produce. But the oldest son moved out, so they need help from time to time. We’ll get to stay here for free, as long as we help with chores before dinner. The youngest son plans to stay and take over the farm, but he’s only 14, not strong enough for everything to be done in one day.”            “So, the three of them run the farm by themselves?”            “Yeah, it’s getting harder on Yuto though as he gets older. When I’m here, it gives him a bit of a break, or a chance to do repairs he didn’t have time for before.”            “That’s why it’s free because you give them room to breathe after the son left.”          “A farm can be run by two people as long as they are in good health and know what they’re doing. But as I said, Yuto is older and his health has been in decline for about 6 months.”            “What will happen if he can’t keep up?”            “Either Reo gets better or they’ll have to sell off some animals so it’s not too overbearing. They have the biggest farm I’ve seen.”            Zuko hummed in response as they saw a well-built teenager run up with a big smile on his face. “___! We’ve missed you!” Reo hugged her and Zuko tightly.            “You finally hit puberty!” ___ laughed.            “Yeah! Now I can do most of the work on my own, I just need to get faster.”          “That’s great to hear!”            “Come on, my folks will be super happy to see you and your boyfriend!”            ___ laughed softly and followed the happy Reo into the home. Once inside she and Zuko were warmly welcomed and somehow talked for hours with the older couple. Mainly about chores on the farm and how happy they were to meet Zuko, or Lee.          “It’s so nice to be back, but I need to go check on Fay and to bring back our ostrich-horse.”            “Oh, take some soup with you for Fay, drop off your bag in the room before you go too!” Akari said before heading to the kitchen.

         Up in the room Zuko set down her backpack and looked around the room. It was small, a dresser, and a decent size bed. He turned around to see ___ taking out a sleeping bag.            “Does it get cold in here?”            “No, the blankets on the bed are pretty warm.”            “Then why the sleeping bag?”            “For me, it's probably been a while since you've had the opportunity to sleep in a bed. I thought you’d like some comfort.” She stated calmly.            “So, you plan to sleep on the ground?”            “The sleeping bag is pretty comfortable.”            Zuko stared at her confused for a moment until he remembered when they were about to kiss. She was letting him make the shots and decisions on the pace of their relationship. She didn't want to pressure or rush him. To do what feels natural.            It felt natural to hold her close, hug her. But he didn't know how his own body would react, lying down with her in the dark.            ___ was in front of him giving him the most understanding look he'd ever seen. “Zuko, we just started dating, there is no reason to do anything other than enjoy each other's company. Don't overthink, just do, okay? I'm going to Fay; would you like to come with or relax?”            The moment the word relax came out of her mouth, he could feel how tired he was.            “I think I'd like to lie down.”            “I won't be long.” She gently squeezed his hand before leaving the room. He could hear her thanking Akari for the soup then her departure.  

       He turned to the bed about to lie down, before stopping and looking over his shoulder at the sleeping bag on the other side of the room. He at least wanted her closer if not in his arms. He moved the bag closer to the bed and put one of the pillows from the bed at the top of the sleeping bag. He eyed it a bit longer before lying down in the bed, soon he could feel himself drift into the comfort of sleep.  

         Zuko jolted out of bed in a cold sweat, gasping, he couldn’t remember the nightmare but it still made him tremble.            “Zuko?” ___ whispered while sitting up from her bag next to the bed. “Are you okay, sweetie?” She rubbed her eye gently before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You’re sweating so much. Was it a nightmare?”  

“I don’t know, I don’t remember,” he whispered before pulling her into a hug, pushing her head into his chest.            “Your heart is so fast, whatever it was, it scared you bad,” she murmured before yawning.            “I’m sorry I woke you.”            “It’s not your fault. Let’s just go back to sleep, if you can.” She tried to pull away from him, but he secured her to him.            “Don’t leave me,” he begged tenderly.            “I won’t,” she pulled away slowly before adjusting herself fully on the bed and resting her head just under his clavicle, Zuko wrapped an arm around her. He lied back softly, keeping her with him.            “When I hold you, it’s like nothing can go wrong. But I’m worried, I’ll disappoint you. I’m not experienced in anything that’s not fighting. I barely know who I am anymore, how can I be any good for you at all?”            “Can you hold and eventually love me?”            “I think so.”            “Then that’s all I ask of you. As you said, you barely know who you are. I want to support you along that journey. You’re my beautiful prince, now and always. I’m here for you, through the thick and the thin.” Zuko was blushing at her words and cleared his throat a bit. “Zuko, I’ll wait for you and you don’t need to respond, just listen. I love you; I know I haven't known you long, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fall from you the moment you gagged while gutting a fish but continued without any word of complaint. I just wanted you to know, even though you’re going through a lot, you are loved.”            Zuko could feel his heart pounding at her words, his eyes watered threatening to fall. He didn’t realize how starved he was for this affection, for those 3 simple words. Words he hasn’t heard since his mother disappeared. He adjusted their bodies to their sides, face to face. For some reason he was shocked to see so much of her blush, it was endearing. She only showed small amounts of blush here and there, but now, he could feel the heat coming off of her.            Zuko took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind before speaking, as he opened his mouth, ___ timidly pressed her fingertips against his lips. “I told you, you don’t need to respond. I just wanted you to know,”            Zuko gave her an annoyed grunt before removing her hand and quickly pressing his lips against hers. The intensity that stung his body could be mistaken for fire, but the passion and love he felt easily chased the fire. And he wanted more. Gripping their bodies together he let go of all the fears he had bottled. ___ kissed him back fervently, even though she was trying to hold back, he compressed them together, and started to turn his head, their first kiss turned into many.            ___ tried to push back, wanting to stop before she became too heated. But Zuko rolled on top of her slightly, the pressure made her moan and the sound revoked him. The guttural noise that escaped his throat, shocked even him. But even more jarring was her reaction, she pressed up against him making him gasp as she rubbed against his lower half. She used the advantage to claim his mouth with her tongue, making him moan. He tried to fight for dominance, but the way she made him feel, just felt too good.            Finally, she pulled away and pressed her forehead against his. The heat they created was almost smothering as they both panted softly.            “I love you too, ___.”            ___ pulled back with shock and tears in her eyes, to stare at him.            “What?” He asked, a bit hurt and annoyed. She kissed him perfervidly, but the softness behind it almost melted his heart. She pulled away what seemed all too soon for him.            “I just haven’t heard those words in a long time. I didn’t realize how much I wanted to hear them. My parents were the last people to say that to me, but this is a different love and it feels so stupendous.” She smiled at him, his smile the heartfelt one she always saved for him. She closed her eyes and yawned, pushing Zuko back a bit before cuddling and curling into his chest. He held her, closed his eyes too. He felt both of their hearts beating, although out of sync, the same love blossomed in both.

[skiller0dani]

Heart | Five Hargreeves

M A S T E R L I S T TUA Masterlist

angst/fluff requests info

yes I know this wasn’t requested but I have so many requests I just wanted to write my own thing. Working on one of the Diego smuts, expect that tomorrow. Also if you guys have any other comments/concerns about the Five discussion we had today, feel free to send me a message here. 

At the time, he really thought he made the right choice. Logically it made sense, he had people after him. The Handler, plus 3 very large Swedish men. It wasn’t safe, you weren’t safe. So he broke up with you, and he didn’t even explain why. He couldn’t, you weren’t from his time and you belonged here in 1963. If he were to tell you the truth about who he was, where he was from, or rather when he was from- you wouldn’t hesitate to join him. According to you, there was nothing in Dallas for you, but he didn’t think that was true. You had more here than you thought, you had a chance to have a normal life. To find someone who you could actually be with, being with him is damning yourself to a life of running. You would be damning yourself to an early death, or a life of heartbreak if someone manages to kill him. That’s only a few of the concerns he has. 

What if you get stranded somewhere in time? Without him? Anything could happen to you, and if you were to get stranded, The Commission would most definitely come after you. You would have trained assassins after you, and you would be by yourself. The thought makes him nauseous. 

What if you died? If he had to watch you die right in front of him, he’d probably lose his mind. He wouldn’t hesitate to rip another hole in time to go back and save you, which would probably cause an entire domino effect of problems to ensue afterwords. Possibly another doomsday. 

Letting you go was the logical option. It made sense, it would avoid all of the things he was worried about. It should have been a simple choice, but it wasn’t. He tormented himself for days about it, both before he broke up with you and after. Did he do the right thing? It removes so many problems, but then why does he feel so damn bad? Why does his chest tighten when he thinks about you? Why do tears push at the backs of his eyes if someone says your name? Why can’t he sleep without you laying next to him? What is happening? 

There was a lot of coffee consumption in the days after he broke both yours and his heart. The bed was too cold, too big, and too empty. He spent most of the evenings tossing and turning, and those were precious hours wasted if he wasn’t going to sleep. So he didn’t, he slammed a quadruple espresso and forged on through the day. There was work to be done, and even though the fate of everything rested on his shoulders yet again- Five couldn’t concentrate. His hand hovered over the chalkboard, his mind drawing blanks. What was he even working on again? The numbers written before him looked unfamiliar, shit. Running a nervous hand through his hair, his throat closed as he remembered you tugging at his hair on the back of his head when you wanted a kiss. You always said he was an ‘old soul’, you hit the nail on the head you just didn’t know it. 

Five wasn’t the tallest person around, but you were positively tiny. Compared to you, Five may as well have been average sized. You stood a few inches shorter than him and your small, delicate hand fit with his so perfectly. One of Five’s hands was slid in his pocket but his right hand hung loosely at his side as he read over the chalkboard once more. He didn’t know what to do with his right hand anymore, that’s the hand you always held. And squeezed whenever you noticed the stressed expression cross onto his face- which was quite often. He didn’t know then how badly he would miss your little hand squeezes. Five throws the chalk across the room before he spacial jumps to the roof, he needs air. 

This entire thing was his fault, he knew he shouldn’t involve himself with anybody. He knew how it would end, he knew it wouldn’t last, that it couldn’t last. Five knew he would have to leave, and attaching himself to somebody else was just unnecessary pain. He knew it was doomed to fail, destined to end the very second he laid eyes on you. Wiping down tables at that damn diner Klaus got thrown out of, your hair in a ponytail and a bright smile on your face. He knew he would have to do this. Five told himself to keep walking, even when he turned his head and saw some kid flirting with you. He told himself to let it go, that he couldn’t care about anybody. He had come to a halt, his palms twitching as he watched you smile at the boy sitting at the breakfast bar. Why would someone as gorgeous as you be giving that scumbag the time of day? He’s obviously staring at your cleavage. The annoyance grew when he saw you scribbling something down on a napkin. Why are you still giving him your attention? 

The second your eyes met his through the window, Five knew he was done for. 

The two of you were inseparable since that day. Five had stormed inside the diner, embarrassed the poor kid by revealing how much smarter Five was. At the same time, Five was impressing you with his intelligence and making you laugh with his witty comebacks. Maybe you thought that other kid was cute for a second, but the minute you saw Five strolling up to the bar, with a tense smile on his face, your heart belonged to him. The poor kid ended up scrambling away with heated cheeks, and the napkin you’d written your address on was slid over to Five. The next 10 minutes were spent chatting, and when you saw the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his brothers and sisters, you knew that you had to have him. The heavy remorse in his tone when he spoke of his brother Ben had you reaching across the bar to take his hand in yours. 

Five knew your relationship would be challenging, given who he was. He really tried to talk himself out of it, but eventually he found himself on your porch, in the pouring rain, with his lips pressed to yours. How cliche. He was a goner from the second he met you, and he loved it. When the days ticked away and it drew closer to the upcoming end of the world, Five knew it was time to do the thing he never wanted to do. He needed to let you go. He cared for you in a way he’d never cared for anybody, the emotions stirring in his stomach were so intense, and strong, and complicated, he almost didn’t have a word for it. He doesn’t understand it, and frankly, that scares him. 

Five had shifted from foot to foot on your porch, his heart beating like wild in his chest. He dreaded this, he really did but he needed to do this. He was doing it for you after all. When you answered the door, the sight of you took his breath away. You were just so damn beautiful, why do you have to make this so hard on him? You had leaned up to kiss him, but Five turned his head and your lips landed on his cheek. If he felt his lips against yours, he’d lose the nerve to do this. This needs to be done. “What’s wrong?” There was so much concern in your voice, you must have seen the distressed look on his face. Five couldn’t bare to look in your eyes, so he kept his gaze pointed straight ahead. He was a trained assassin for God sakes, he was trained not to give a shit about other people. So why was this so hard? “I can’t see you anymore.” Five says dismissively, trying to make it appear as though it’s not a big deal to him. You froze, all the air having been pulled from your lungs the second the words left his lips. It knocked the wind out of you. 

“Why?” Your heart was broken into tiny pieces, and you tried to be strong because clearly this didn’t bother him. Did Five ever really care about you? You thought he did, but right now you’re not so sure he ever did. If he cared about you then how could he be so casual about this? So unaffected? “You wouldn’t understand Y/N, I just can’t.” His answer is vague, but you wanted more. No, you needed more of an explanation than that. He doesn’t get to break your heart and walk away with it without giving a decent explanation first. “Tell me why Five.” Your voice is trembling as you desperately try to find somewhere on the door to hold onto. It feels like your entire world has shifted, like it’s all fallen out from under you. “Is it because of me?” Your voice is broken and hearing you immediately blame yourself nearly sends him across the porch to press his lips against yours and whisper how perfect you are. Do you not understand that Five does not deserve you? 

But Five shoves his heart back inside his chest and nods curtly, “yeah. It’s because of you.” The soft cry that escapes your mouth has Five clenching his jaw, if he doesn’t walk away right now he’ll take it all back and beg for your forgiveness. Five doesn’t even bother glancing at you as he turns and walks down your porch steps. As soon as you see him heading down the dirt path you collapse to your knees in tears. Five hears your crying get louder and nearly comes to a halt but he pushes himself forward. He’s doing this to protect you, he can’t take you with him. It’s too dangerous. He forces himself to keep walking, to leave you there crying and alone. Five never thought someone like you would ever come into his life, but now that you’re gone, he doesn’t want to live without you. 

Allison could tell something was wrong with her brother the second he came up the stairs. A forlorn expression was strewn on his face, and for the last few days he’d been gloomy. She watched him head to the back of the apartment, straight towards the bedroom. He didn’t glance at her, no snarky comment, didn’t even glance at the equations on the chalkboard. Allison’s eyebrows furrowed as she turned to face him, “what’s up with you?” She asked before he could close the door. Five pauses, he misses you so much it’s hard for him to even breathe without you next to him. How he supposed to live the rest of his life feeling this way? He wishes he could just forget you...Allison. Five turns with a solemn look on his face, “I need you to do me a favor.” 

Allison crosses her arms and raises a brow, “I need you to help me forget somebody.” Both of her eyebrows fly up at his request. Looking into his eyes, she can tell that he’s serious. “Explain.” Is the only word Allison can manage through the shock. Five groans with an eye roll but begins to explain anyway. “I met somebody, and I was seeing her for a little while. Seeing as we’re going to be leaving soon, I knew I needed to end it with her. Nothing feels the same, I’m not hungry, I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything but her, it’s like my chest is being crushed with a cinder block every time I even hear her name. I don’t know what’s happening but I want it to stop.” Five says and Allison has a small smile spread across her face. 

“You’re in love with her Five, that’s why you feel like this.” Allison says and Five’s eyes widen. He’s in love with you. That’s why he can’t function unless you’re next to him. “You shouldn’t let that go.” Five squeezes his fists closed upon hearing her statement. As if that’s something he never considered, “you think I want to? I can’t Allison, I can’t take her with us!” He snaps and Allison rolls her eyes while placing a hand on her hip. Five tugs anxiously at his hair, turning away from Allison. “Maybe you should just tell her the truth, and let her decide. Loving someone like this doesn’t happen very often, you shouldn’t let her go.” She says with a shrug before walking past him and right out of the apartment. Five places both palms flat against the table, his heart and his head conflicted. 

After a few minutes of tormenting himself, Five stands straight up and nearly runs out the door. His heart is beating wildly in his chest as he sprints the entire way to your house. Allison is right, even if you can’t come with him he needs to tell you the truth. About who he is, about everything. You deserve the truth, and he can’t leave knowing how badly he broke you. He would never forgive himself, and he would spend the rest of his life regretting how he left you without telling you how he feels. Five is panting when he makes it to your house, his hand reaching up to slam against the door. When you swing the door open, his cheeks are red and he’s heaving for breath but he smiles upon seeing you. Your heart warms at the sight of him standing on your porch, “I love you-” are the first words out of his mouth. You freeze, does he really mean that? You stand apprehensively in the doorway, waiting for him to explain. 

“I haven’t been truthful with you, and you deserve to know the truth.” Five says, his hands in his pockets and after a minute or so you sigh before swinging the door open. The two of you sit down on the couch, but you keep your distance from him. Five looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face, and you stay silent, waiting for him to speak first. And he does, he starts at the beginning and tells you everything. 

[shifuaang]

Just wanted to say it’s nice to see someone agree Aangs parenting in LOK is grossly out of character. I keep seeing people contort the situation into pretzels to make it work. It comes close to ruining the franchise for me

I almost have to divorce LOK from ATLA in order to enjoy it, which is really kind of sad considering how it's so integrally connected to its source material and yet seems to mishandle said source material at every opportunity.

LOK recycles the same familial conflicts as ATLA. Both Aang and Toph are painted as bad parental figures, which seems like a complete character assassination of the two of them as well as of Katara who was married to Aang and seemingly allowed him to mistreat Kya and Bumi. I wrote a much more in-depth meta on this narrative choice and how it contradicts the character strengths and flaws that were given to Aang in ATLA here if you’re interested. 

Basically, I think it’s very unlike Aang to show favoritism to his airbending son when he sees firsthand how badly favoritism affects both Zuko and Azula. Aang is shown to be extremely excited about sharing his culture with Katara and Sokka and is more inclusive than anyone else in the Gaang. I love Aang because he is human and has many flaws, but to make him a bad father taints his legacy, is lazy writing, and almost ruins the series for me as well. Forgive me for going on a rant, but I’ve wanted to talk about my grievances with LOK for a while, and your ask inspired me to make a list soooo away we go:

I hate that the rules of bloodbending are retconned to create the conflict in season one - it diminishes the Avatar's ability to energybend and take away bending as a means of justice (specifically Aang who had to defy all of his friends and the rules of the world in order to defeat Ozai without compromising his culture and morals). Why can Noatak and Tarrlok bloodbend when it's not a full moon? Just because they will themselves into doing so? If this is true, surely Hama would have figured out how to utilize this technique as she was also abused and had just as much motivation as the two brothers to be a survivalist and hone her powers.

The Harmonic Convergence allows airbending to come back too quickly. It all feels too neat and tidy. While I absolutely adore the restoration of air nomad culture and watching that come to life, it's not enough of a slow burn for me. I feel that it lessened the extraordinary pain that Aang experienced being the last of his people. If they're going to go the route of the lion turtle being the one to bestow bending (which I don't like, but we'll get there), why not include a plot where the Air Acolytes go on a quest (led by the Avatar who is the bridge between the spirit and physical world) to find him and have him grant them airbending? That would have been far more interesting to me than the spirit world conveniently opening up and restoring balance.

The whole concept of the lion turtle being the bestower of all bending leans far too much into the Western-centric idea of some kind of monotheistic creator. I was happy to accept the existence of benders, non-benders, and the Avatar without there being any sort of long-winded explanation for why they came to be. Sometimes when shows try too hard to give mystical elements backstory and lore, it takes away from the intrigue and magic behind everything. LOK in general is far more Western-centric than ATLA. The spirits of Raava and Vaatu aren't necessarily a bad addition, but they are written as completely black and white. The dichotomy of good vs. evil doesn't exist in ATLA - even Ozai's life is given intrinsic value and careful consideration despite the fact that he is, by all accounts, an irredeemable dictator. Tui and La, push and pull, lend themselves to a far more complex and morally grey narrative. 

With LOK moving in a more Western direction comes a blatant lack of respect for Asian cultures, particularly Buddhist culture. Nothing is as well-researched or planned as ATLA's plot and cultural references. From fartbending to straying from Eastern themes and spirituality, it all just feels very juvenile, which is ironic considering LOK was meant to appeal to an older audience. 

While I almost loathe to say this because Zaheer is such a well-written character and intriguing in ways that even ATLA's villains aren't, his achieving enlightenment and learning to fly is a slap in the face to true morality, concentration, and wisdom, which are the main pillars of Buddhist thought and training. You're meaning to tell me that Aang had to struggle with opening seven chakras, letting go of earthly attachments, and literally dying and being resurrected in order to go into the Avatar State, but all Zaheer had to do to achieve what only one other airbender has achieved is watch P'li die? He got to unlock a previously insurmountable airbending technique after breaking every moral airbending code, including taking life with his bending? I'm not buying it. 

On a similar note, the way cultural appropriation is glossed over in LOK is also incredibly inappropriate. LOK has a real opportunity to explore racism, blackface/brownface, and the sexualization of ‘exotic’ characters in Old Hollywood when Bolin is cast as Nuktuk, but his role in the films just becomes a running gag. It shouldn't sit right with anyone that someone who is half Fire Nation is playing a waterbending hero only about 50 years after the hundred year war in which the Fire Nation almost eradicated waterbenders.

The relationships are not very well-written. Love triangles are a terrible plot device, and Bolin's abusive relationship with Eska is played for laughs. I don't like Korra being cut off from her past lives in what feels like some desperate sort of ploy to get the fans to break ties from the old characters and only care about the new ones. The copaganda is gross, and Toph becoming a cop makes very little sense to me. The plot can be messy and contrived, and the pacing isn't great.

So you're probably wondering, why do you even watch LOK? It sounds like you hate it. I truly don't. The animation is beautiful, the fight sequences are amazingly choreographed, and I really enjoy some of the new characters like Asami, Tenzin, and Jinora. I think LOK is a good, solid show on its own, but it's impossible to hold a candle to its near flawless predecessor. 

[chatonyant]

im just so sad about this funky crow ninja

Listen

Listen

Itachi is just

Such a tragic character and it makes me so sad

Like he's a pacifist at heart but he was forced to be the literal opposite at such a young age and I'm just so sAD ABOUT IT

(Under cut cause it’s long and it’s about the uchiha massacre if yall would rather not read bout that But it also has some soft ideas down at the way bottom if yall wanna just speed scroll to the bottom)

How he came to the choice he made regarding the Uchiha massacre totally makes sense to me. It wasn't a good decision, it wasn't a decision best suited for the situation, but it made sense. And it gets worse once you realize that he was 13. Thirteen. No wonder he couldn't find/use a third option. He's still a child, even in this world of child soldiers. He bloodied his hands and wore a mask so that the home he loved and the brother he adored could be safe.

I wish his story could've been written... better, for a lack of proper words. Maybe that is the right word. But I want to see him do more for Konoha. He became a missing nin for Konoha to spy on Akatsuki/Madara but we don't see the results of that. What information does Konoha get from him? Because we know that he's still loyal to Konoha after all this time. Did he do anything to slow Akatsuki down? Did he do things to benefit Konoha or stop something from badly impacting it? What did he do?

And then he dIES AND HE JUST DOESNT GET A BREAK AND IM HHHHH :((((((

And he was sick and going blind too!!!! I swear he was the universe's punching bag (though one of many cause the naruto universe just Be Like That)

Fuck ok I came on here to ramble about Itachi in my au but then got sad sO AU TIME NOW

For one I want to make him.... more sympathetic? A redemption works best when its shown from the start that there is more than meets the eye. Like Zuko, for example. He was a jerk, but there are moments where it's clear that he's not as much of a jerk as he could have been. And I wanted to do something similar with Itachi (and a couple other villains tbh but it's also a matter of "Should you survive" coughObitocough I love you but idk if you survive in this au or not but I have ideas nonetheless but that is for a later time)

Anyways, morally grey but more clearly Itachi

Honestly I've got more ideas for his ending than the beginning. Which is... very annoying. This is unfortunately the case for many... many of my ideas....

An idea I've been juggling with is Itachi not killing everyone. He definitely kills everyone who's activated their sharingan and anyone who is/was a shinobi. So everyone who's not a civilian. So,,, the survivors are very very little and are civilian mothers and civilian children too young to even attend the academy and like the occasional shop owners. The massacre was to stop the coup and prevent it from ever happening, so those who have the power to set forward this coup are any shinobi. And unfortunately, the Uchiha clan is an old shinobi clan.

Itachi is not a blank mask and does cry when he kills his parents and they leave their parting words. He's 13, forced to commit a crime that goes against his every wish, moral, and beliefs. Plus I believe the Uchiha are naturally every emotional- or at least feels it more intensely than others. Their whole defining ability has to do with emotions. They feel Very Strongly.

And thus by "cry" I mean he cries a lot. He almost has a breakdown right then and there when little baby Sasuke crashes in and see his crying older brother holding a bloody blade over his two very dead parents. 

For someone willing(ish) to murder a(lmost) a whole clan for the sake of his little brother, Itachi sure does directly hurt Sasuke a lot. Like genjutsu torture? Placing responsibility of avenging a whole clan on his tiny, angry shoulders? Oof, Itachi, bad ideas. 

So Itachi wants Sasuke to be safe. To be happy to the best of his ability. So instead, he uses a milder form of Tsukuyomi to place a suggestion in his baby mind that Itachi was in fact a cold hearted murderer. But the human mind is a strange thing that is difficult to understand, so for years Sasuke has nightmares of that night with his perception of Itachi varying wildly between a stone cold face and a tear-stained one. 

Itachi doesn’t do the whole “hate me and kill me for vengeance” because, again, he wants Sasuke to be safe and happy. Considering that he lives in a shinobi village and just had a highly traumatic experience, both are hard to come by, but the least Itachi can do is not have Sasuke’s whole life be overcome by hatred. Curse of Hatred is a very real thing, Itachi. I know you want Sasuke to have a goal to drive him forward and not waste away but bad idea Itachi. Maybe he says something else. Maybe he tells Sasuke to get stronger (but not in a “so you can get revenge” kind of way). I don’t know. But he doesn’t quite plant the idea of vengeance in his mind, so Sasuke’s motivation and drive ends up differently. Butterfly effects oho Also since Sasuke unlocked his sharingan during the massacre... is it possible to activate mangekyo as well? Cause he loves Itachi most, yes, but he also loved his parents, his mom especially. Would that be enough? Wiki says “death of someone close to the user”, so it’s possible, I think.

So many ideas about the massacre holy shit

Like Shisui. I’d totally love to make him live but frankly, I’ve got no idea how. :”D sorry Shisui, you’ll have to stay dead until I can find a solid reasoning as to how you survived and why

As for Madara/Tobi, well in anime he went after the Police headquarters while Itachi went after everyone else so there’s that, not much to change there

Then there’s a whole bunch of aftermath hijinks

Itachi is said to have aided Konoha within Akatsuki, but it’s not very clearly shown. Considering how we aren’t shown what exactly he passed on, that will be uh.... perhaps expanded on later. 

Sasuke and Itachi interactions before Shippuden would be different due to Sasuke’s own differences, but those differences haven’t be set yet so that will be explained later.

Ok, now the whole Itachi dying and being reincarnated shebang. Fourth War sure is wild as fuck. “Let’s mass reincarnate people!” what.

I don’t want Itachi to die. I want to let him rest. But not in death. 

So the general idea I have for the “end” of the story is:

He becomes legally blind. Not completely blind, but very close. His chakra coils are fucked and his sharingan are stuck in a way that he can kinda see chakra but very vaguely. 

His illness isn’t completely healed, but it’s much better than before; Sakura and Tsunade are legendary at what they do

He returns home to Konoha. Not sure how he will be accepted into the village but I was thinking the village makes a half-lie half-truth story pinning the blame on Danzo (Cause when in doubt, blame Danzo. Or Zetsu. But Zetsu isn’t blamable here)

He may not be imprisoned, but he isn’t free to roam. He’s monitored and has a (temporary?) seal placed on him limiting his use of chakra.

Itachi is surprisingly ok with all of this. He gets to retire from a shinobi life and he’s unraveled the story to Sasuke and was gifted a form of forgiveness. Life’s chill.

He works at the Yamanaka flower shop. It’s calming, peaceful, and it’s run by Yamanaka, powerful shinobi and also knowledgeable on psychology.

His crows are now seeing eye crows. They sit on either his shoulders or head and squawk whenever Itachi is too close to bumping into something. Sasuke very much enjoys when the crows are on Itachi’s head because when he tosses little treats at the birds, sometimes they land in Itachi’s hair.

It’s very hard for the shinobi to fear this honestly tiny man (because Itachi is small, fight me) who’s humming while watering plants with a bird on top of his head while the various heroes of Konoha take turns tossing treats at the bird like it’s a dog. 

“Nii-san. Nii-san stop squishing my cheeks.” “But Sasuke I want to see your face.” “Nii-san-”

oh my god so much brain power used on the massacre just so i could make itachi have a very domestic ending

[littlespoonevan]

hiii! I really hope I'm not bothering you but... are you taking prompts? 👀 cause I love your fics and this is kinda your fault because I read your post about 9x06 lol but now I can't stop thinking about I&M having a *real talk* like... "I'm sorry I let you go" 🥺?

Sorry it took me a while to get to this - my ao3 fics kept me quite busy the past few weeks! okay so i’ve written about the aftermath of 9x06 quite a few times but never an actual, full “talk about everything” conversation in its entirety so i decided to give it a whirl here! 

for the record i 100% believe they had a conversation like this within the first week, if not 24 hours, of being in the cell together and find it absolutely preposterous john wells tried to act like they hadn’t in 10x03 and then again in 10x08 bc all ian wanted to do legit all season was talk things through and that didn’t come from nowhere but ANYWAY, they’ve got a lot of things to sort through but i did my best to cover as much as i could!

I hope you like it <3

*

The lights have been out for five minutes and Ian just about manages to stay in his bunk long enough for the guard to do his final check of their cell before he’s swinging himself down from his bed to crawl in next to Mickey.

He’s met with kisses and a muffled laugh into his mouth and fuck, he never thought he’d get to do this again. He allows himself to get lost in Mickey’s body for a few minutes, trading hungry kisses while their hands roam wherever either of them can reach, like they’re trying to commit one another’s skin to memory again – not that Ian has any intention of letting Mickey go this time.

He’s been itching to touch Mickey like this all day – they’d managed a hurried, flustered mutual reunion handjob before but they couldn’t risk anything more. Even that had been reckless but he’s pretty sure he lost any and all sense the second Mickey walked through the door of his cell.

He wants more now, wants Mickey whatever way he can have him, but a thought makes him pause and as soon as he thinks it he can’t stop thinking about it.

Is this supposed to be reunion sex or make-up sex?

Ian had done a lot of soul-searching and self-reflection after he’d left Mickey at the border and he just- he wants to talk about it. He doesn’t want them to jump straight into everything again and let their issues fester like they used to. Sex has never been a problem for them, communication on the other hand…

Mickey must notice he’s slowed down because he leans back, a confused smile on his face. “What?”

Ian looks at him and feels nothing but an all-consuming, addictive kind of love envelope him. He loves Mickey so fucking much – he hadn’t been able to stop even when he wanted to – he’s not going to hurt him again. But that means he needs to do this right. “Do you think we should talk first?” he asks uncertainly.

They’d both sort of agreed earlier that they would talk eventually when they’d been catching up and found themselves naturally slipping into deeper territory. They’d said they could worry about it later. But well, it’s later now.

Mickey appraises him for a moment and Ian tries not to panic when he notices his expression shutter the tiniest bit. Cradling Mickey’s jaw, he runs a thumb across his cheek. “Mick, I wanna do this right this time. We should talk about it.”

Mickey’s expression softens somewhat at that. “Talk about what?”

Ian blows out a breath. “Everything, I guess?”

He’s not sure they ever really talked out their issues in the past. He thinks they would’ve when Mickey brought him back home after he took off for the army. But Ian had already been halfway to manic by then and hadn’t exactly been in the most rational frame of mind to discuss the deep shit.

Mickey shifts onto his back, still keeping one arm around Ian, and Ian fits himself against Mickey’s side, head half on the pillow, half on Mickey’s shoulder.

“Well, if we’re talking about everything,” Mickey starts, rolling his head to the side and meeting Ian’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

And that’s- what?

“What the fuck are you sorry for?” Ian asks with a frown – he’s pretty sure he’s the one with a laundry list of apologies to make here.

Mickey huffs out a laugh but it sounds sad. “Jesus, Ian. Did you just block out the first year and a half of our relationship?” He averts his gaze for a second before looking back to Ian with renewed determination. “I’m sorry for all the times I pushed you away or pretended this didn’t mean anything or ended it because I got scared or hit you- fuck-“

“Mickey,” Ian says, cutting him off with a hand on Mickey’s chest. “You think I resent you for any of that?” he says, words quietly disbelieving. “Or that I don’t get why you acted the way you did? Yeah, sure, it fucking hurt at the time but I’m pretty sure you made up for it a thousand times over with everything that came afterwards.”

When I almost burned our relationship to the ground, he thinks, and all you did was try to love me.

Mickey glances away again, looking more bashful this time. “It still doesn’t make it okay.”

“Yeah, well if it wasn’t already clear, I forgive you,” Ian tells him, feeling his mouth tick up at the edges when Mickey starts to smile at him. And he can’t help leaning to brush their lips together – just once before he allows himself to get side-tracked.

It’s his turn now.

“While we’re doling out apologies,” he starts, feeling shame burn through him. Even thinking about half the shit he’s done makes him question how the fuck Mickey’s still here. “I’m so fucking sorry, Mick. Jesus. For all of it.”

Mickey stares at him with something vulnerable in his eyes and Ian wonders if anyone’s ever actually apologised to Mickey for hurting him before. That thought alone is enough for him to keep going.

“I’m sorry for giving you an ultimatum after the wedding. I was just- fuck, I was at breaking point, y’know? I know what happened that day with Terry was a million times worse for you-“

Mickey tenses at that and Ian thinks they’re going to talk about a lot tonight but they probably won’t talk about that. Some scars just run too fucking deep.

“I always wondered,” Mickey interrupts quietly, staring at Ian’s hand on his chest instead of Ian himself. “If that day was your trigger or whatever.”

Ian’s wondered it too, has considered bringing it up whenever he does go to therapy countless times, but he can never make himself say it out loud.

“It might’ve been,” he says slowly. “But if it was that’s Terry’s fault, not yours.”

Mickey nods absently and Ian shifts forward until he can press his forehead to Mickey’s temple. “None of it was our fault, Mick.”

Neither of them speaks for a beat – everything they’ve left unsaid hanging heavy in the air between them until Ian eventually decides to carry on.

“And I know I said sorry for this one before,” he continues. “But I’m sorry for trying to make you come out.”

Mickey shakes his head as if to tell him it doesn’t matter. But it does.

“And for all the fucking bullshit I pulled with you while I was manic. Not even just the big stuff – the cheating, the porno, Yevgeny – but all of it. I didn’t treat you how I wanted to back then.” Ian feels tears burn behind his eyes just thinking about it and his pulse is ragged by the time Mickey finally turns his head to look at him.

His eyes are shining and Ian’s heart is fucking broken. “You were sick, Ian.”

“Doesn’t make any of it okay,” Ian mumbles, closing his eyes when he feels Mickey’s fingers graze against the back of his neck. “Just- I really need you to know that the only reason I broke up with you was because Monica fucking got in my head and I could see how much I was killing you and I didn’t want that for you, Mick,” he says, voice low and desperate, begging Mickey to understand. “The thought of you just staying with me and letting me hurt you over and over again was too fucking much. Especially back then when I felt like I’d never feel normal again.”

Mickey is quiet for a moment before he squeezes the back of Ian’s neck. “I’m not excusin’ shit, Ian. Losing you back then- it nearly fucking broke me. But it’s like what you said about the stuff I did. It’s not okay. But I know why you did it.”

Ian nods, sniffling back the tears threatening to fall and burying his face in Mickey’s neck to press an apologetic kiss against the spot where his neck meets his shoulder. Mickey’s arm tightens around him in response and it’s enough to give Ian courage to deliver the final part of his apology.

He leans back, pushing up on his elbow so he can look down at Mickey and meets his gaze while he talks. “I’m sorry I didn’t go with you to Mexico,” he whispers, breath hitching. “I’m so fucking sorry but I wanted to believe so badly that I actually had my shit together and-“

Mickey cuts him off before he can say anymore, lips upturned in a rueful smile. “I’m not mad about that,” he murmurs.

Ian frowns in confusion. “You’re not?”

Mickey nods, blowing out a resigned breath. “You were fucking right, Ian. Where were we supposed to get your meds? I spent two years working for a fucking cartel, that’s not exactly the kinda stress-free, routine life you needed to be living.” Mickey shakes his head, shrugging half-heartedly. “I didn’t think it through, I just wanted to be with you again – couldn’t see past that, y’know?”

And Ian is so fucking in love with him. He can’t believe Mickey still has so much goddamn faith in him.

“Fat lotta good it did anyway,” he huffs bitterly. “Goin’ home. Look where I ended up.”

He’d given Mickey the basics of what’d happened with the whole Gay Jesus thing earlier. But it’s still hard to believe how quickly things spiralled after he came home from the border.

Mickey doesn’t say anything because there’s not much to say really but he links his fingers together with the hand Ian’s still got resting on his chest which is an answer in and of itself.

“Listen,” Ian murmurs, meeting Mickey’s gaze and hoping he can see the sincerity there. “I know- I don’t expect you to just give me blanket forgiveness right now, okay? I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me,” he says, voice feeling thick with emotion. “But let me make it up to you, alright? Let me prove that I’m in this this time. I’m not fuckin’ around again, Mick. I’m not- I can’t let you go again.”

Mickey doesn’t reply right away and Ian watches as a myriad of emotions flickers across his face. Eventually though, his throat bobs and he offers Ian a hint of a smile. “You let me make my shit up to you. It’d be pretty fuckin’ hypocritical if I didn’t let you do the same.”

Ian huffs out a relieved laugh, resting his forehead against Mickey’s shoulder. “Or smart, maybe.”

“When have I ever fuckin’ been smart around you, Gallagher?” Mickey says amusedly and Ian raises his head again, leaning in until there’s the barest inch of space between them.

“I mean it,” he whispers steadfastly. “If it takes a week or a year to make you trust me again, I’ll do it. I promise.”

Mickey’s expression is calm and open as he watches him and Ian revels at being allowed to see the vulnerability behind his eyes – more as a sign of trust than because Mickey can’t conceal it for once. He closes the distance between them and tries to pour every bit of love and devotion he possesses into the kiss, hoping Mickey can feel it.

When their lips dislodge after a minute or so Ian rearranges them until he’s the one lying on his back and Mickey’s head is resting on his chest.

“I missed you so fucking much,” Mickey admits into the cotton of Ian’s tank top and Ian closes his eyes, feeling a lump swell in his throat as his eyes begin to water.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs hoarsely, tightening his arms around Mickey like he could fuse their bones together and pressing a firm kiss to Mickey’s hair. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Mickey mumbles and it’s just three words but it feels like fucking salvation to Ian’s ears.

They’re gonna be alright.

*

[kieraswriting]

Coffin Chapter Twenty

Masterpost

The next morning Virgil was doing much better. Patton finally felt like he could relax.

They were currently staying in a small cabin deep in the woods, far enough removed from civilization that they shouldn’t have to worry about being discovered. There were three teeny rooms, a bathroom, and a room that wasn’t really divided between kitchen and living room.

Virgil had moved to the couch, but was dozing off again.

Roman was making himself some toast, and rummaging around in the fridge for something to spread over it.

“... and really, strawberry is one of the best jellies for toast, especially with plenty of butter. But for pb&j, grape is better. Did you have a favorite? It wasn’t that long ago that you still ate jelly, right?” Roman finally came out of the fridge, turning to face Virgil as he waited for his answer.

Patton was watching Virgil as well, curious to see what he would say. To his surprise, and dread, Virgil looked absolutely terrified. He was staring fixedly at the butterknife held loosely in Roman’s hand.

Roman took a step forward, worry written all over his face. “Virgil?”

Virgil let out a sob, flinging himself backward. “No! No, please! Please!”

Patton got up quickly, going to Virgil to comfort him. But Virgil flinched away from his hands.

“No, no, no… please, please don’t! Please!”

Virgil shut his eyes tightly, pushing himself into the back of the couch and curling in on himself.

“I-I didn’t do anything! Please don’t!”

“Virgil, Virgil, it’s just me. It’s Patton.”

Virgil shook his head, burying it in his knees. “No, nonononono…”

His whole body was shaking, both from fear and from the sobs tearing out from his throat.

Patton put a hand gently on Virgil’s shoulder. Virgil reacted even more violently to that, jerking away harshly and letting out a broken cry as if the touch had burned him.

Tears were pouring down Patton’s face. What was he supposed to do?! His hands went up to his hair, tugging as he tried to think of something, anything to help Virgil.

Hands landed on top of his, guiding them down.

“Patton, don’t do this.”

Patton turned to see Roman, tears also running down his face, but calm, or at least much calmer than Patton was.

“How can you say that?!” Patton cried, much more loudly than he’d intended. Virgil flinched hard, and his sobbing got louder, the pleas becoming more and more broken.

An irrational anger seized Patton. “This is your fault!”

Roman reeled back as if the words had physically slapped him. For several seconds, his face was raw with pain, but then reverted to the determined calm. He moved forward, wrapping Patton in a hug. Patton struggled against it, especially as Roman tried to pick him up.

Roman took him away from Virgil.

Patton didn’t exactly scream. He’d hardly ever screamed in his life. But he certainly did kick and yell and pound his fists against Roman.

“Patton, Patton please, calm down.”

“No! You can’t take him away from me! Put! Me! Down!”

Roman made it into one of the bedrooms and closed the door, sitting on the bed with his arms firmly around Patton’s waist.

“Please, listen to me, Patton,” he said, his voice losing its calm a bit. “He doesn’t know it’s us right now. He’ll feel safer alone than with people he thinks would hurt him.”

Patton froze, and then went limp in Roman’s arms, sobbing desperately into his shoulder.

“I-I want to he-help him!” Patton sobbed.

Roman’s grip loosened a bit, and one hand rubbed firm circles on Patton’s back. “I know. I know you do. The best way to help him right now is to stay put, ok? Just stay with me.”

“I hate this!”

“I know, Pat, I hate it too. I hate it so bad for the both of you.”

Patton clung to Roman. He could still hear Virgil from the living room, pleading his innocence and begging not to be hurt. Patton felt like he lost the last bit of his sense then, turning into a sobbing mess.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. I’m not letting go.” Roman said soothingly.

•^*^••

They’d been driving for ages. Ages and ages.

Dee only opened his mouth before Thomas was answering him sharply. “Don’t you dare complain. It’s all your own fault. If you want it to be over, find us a place where we can stop.”

There was silence for several minutes.

“I said I was sorry.”

Thomas abruptly pulled over. He turned to Dee, his eyes edging from anger into upset. “Do you even know how badly you scared me?”

Dee thought about it, his head drooping as he nodded. “Thomas, I’m sorry.”

Thomas blinked hard, rubbing his palm against his eyes. He sighed. “I forgive you. But if you ever…. I can’t--I can’t stand the thought of what might have happened, Dee. I can’t.”

Dee only had to reach out a little bit, and Thomas was pulling him into a hug. It was a bit awkward, trying to hug while in different seats in a car, but in the moment, it didn’t matter.

“So when’s the show gonna get good? ” Remus said obnoxiously.

Thomas sent him a withering glare. “I’m not done being mad at you, though.”

Remus shrugged. “I’ll add you to the list.”

•^*^••

Had he done it? That’d been surprisingly easy. Surely something wasn’t quite right.

And yet Logan was now looking at an online map. It updated every minute, with orange dots for reported vampire sightings, and red dots for confirmed vampires. The amount of light on the map was concerning.

Though it was true that he’d never tried to access this information before, and thus has no basis for how long or difficult it should be, Logan couldn’t help but think that this had been too fast. Too easy.

He shut off his computer, unplugging it for good measure, before going downstairs.

Emile was sitting on the floor, winding yarn around his fingers. Somehow he was weaving it, and Logan could see nearly a foot of it hanging from the back of his hand. He was also listening to a radio drama, which he paused when Logan reached the bottom of the staircase.

“Hi, Logan! How’s it going?”

Logan sat down near him. “I think I’ve found the way to be the early warning system.”

Emile beamed, sunshiny energy radiating from him, and not at all matching the worry Logan felt. “That’s excellent! I knew you’d get it at some point.”

Logan couldn’t really frown in the face of that, but his face stayed solemn. “It’s just— it’s too easy. There’s no way I should’ve been able to access that. I barely had to do anything even resembling ‘hacking’.”

Emile sobered, nodding slowly. “And you think it could be a trap?”

Logan nodded.

“In that case, we’ll have to use it sparingly, if we use it at all.”

Logan nodded. “I’d be more inclined to avoid using it entirely.”

Emile looked thoughtful. “Do you think that you could find another way, or that they’d all have the same problem?”

Logan thought about it for a bit. “It’s possible either way.”

Emile nodded. “Why don’t you get something to eat, and then take a short rest. After that, you can call the other teams and make sure they’re still doing well. After that, try again. You’ll have had time to let the idea sit in the back of your head, and I’m sure you’ll have an easier time thinking about it.”

That made sense. “I’ll do that. Thank you, Emile.”

“No problem!”

Logan ate, grateful that Emile had been the one to go shopping. After a nap, he picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Logan. What’s up?” Dee said. Which was odd, since he’d called Thomas’s phone.

“I’m ensuring that you’re alright.”

“Yeah, we’re fine. We’re staying at a campground for the night. How’s Virgil?”

“I haven’t called them yet. It’s possible that they won’t have enough service.”

“Mm. Well, if you get an update, call us back.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Thanks. Want to talk with Thomas?”

“It’s not necessary, unless he has something else to tell me.”

There was a pause. “Yeah, I think he might.”

“Hello? Logan?” Thomas asked.

“Hello, Thomas. Dee said you had something you wished to tell me?”

There was an exasperated sigh. “Yeah. So he and Remus went and busted up a prison. The inmates and the vampires scattered, and we left, so I don’t know what happened after.”

Ah, so that had been the cluster of red dots. It had been remarkably more dense than any others.

“Are you sufficiently far away from it now?”

“Yeah, we’re a good 150 miles away now. Dee doesn’t think that they were recognized or anything. Remus thralled the guards apparently.”

“Alright. While this is certainly not ideal, as long as you believe you haven’t been followed, and as long as it doesn’t happen again, it should be fine. A large number of hunters will be focusing on the prison, not on possible vampires driving cross-country.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”

Logan nodded, and then remembered that Thomas couldn’t see him nodding. “Well, thank you for the report. I will call again in a few days.”

“Yep! Nice to talk to you, Logan.”

“Likewise.”

Logan hung up the phone and dialed a very familiar number.

•^*^••

It was several hours later when the door to the bedroom opened.

Patton gripped Roman tight as if he was being pulled away. “Virgil.”

Virgil stood in the doorway, his face still streaked with tears, and his head down. “Sorry. That wasn’t—wasn’t fair to you at all.”

Patton shook his head vigorously, letting go of Roman. “Can I hug you now?”

Virgil looked up, fresh tears welling in his eyes. “Please.”

Patton rushed to him immediately, hugging him tight, and breaking into tears again.

Roman slowly got up. He was… tired. They must be too. He guided the pair to the bed.

“Why don’t you two lay down? You need a break.”

Patton looked at him with an almost pout, his forehead creasing in a frown. “Not without you. You’ve had to be strong for all of us. There’s no way you’re missing the group hug.”

Roman just… he felt numb. And tired. But if they laid down for the group hug he could fall asleep.

So he agreed. As he expected, once they were all laid together Virgil and Patton dropped right off. But he was left awake. Somehow, even with how tired he was, he couldn’t seem to shut his eyes.

A long time later, his phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking him out of the slight doze.

“Hey, Lo,” he said, quietly enough not to wake Patton and Virgil.

“Hello, Roman. Is everything alright there?”

“I mean, yeah, more or less.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, why?”

“Usually your answers are more confident.”

Roman hesitated, feeling his eyes prickle for a minute. “Yeah, it’s— I’m fine.”

“Forgive me if I do not believe you. Has something happened?”

“Yeah… it’s dealt with now, though.”

“What was it?”

“Virgil had a— a flashback or something. He couldn’t stand for us to touch him, or be near him, so I took Patton into the other room until they calmed down some. They’re asleep now.”

“Roman, while I usually appreciate your brevity, I can’t help but feel that you’re hiding something from me. Would you tell me again? From the beginning?”

Roman squeezed his eyes shut, but that didn’t stop the tears from leaking out. He had to take several breaths before he could speak. “It was my fault. I had a butter knife, and I didn’t even think about how it would look. I-I stepped toward him, and it was in my hand. Logan I— he was terrified of me! I-I-I couldn’t do anything.”

“Roman, no. A butter knife is a completely innocuous item. Had what happened to Virgil not happened, there would be no problem. None at all.”

It was getting very hard to keep quiet, so Roman started untangling himself, and easing out of the bed.

“But it did happen! I should’ve known. Logan it’s—I-I hurt him! And Patton!”

“No. Roman, both from what you’ve said and also from what I know of you, I’m absolutely certain that you did everything in your power to help them both.”

“But I’m the one to hurt them in the first place!” Roman said, his voice cracking.

There was a brief murmur on the other end of the phone as Logan spoke to someone else.

“Roman, the one that hurt Patton and Virgil was Liam Hart. Not you. Where are you at this moment?”

“In the living room.” Roman scrubbed at his face.

“I want you to go out the front door.”

“What? But—“

“Do this for me, Roman. I will text Patton so that he will know where you’ve gone if he wakes up.”

“O-ok.” Roman went outside. “I’m outside.”

“Good. Now I want you to walk forward briskly. Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

Roman started walking. Logan kept talking about something technical he was working on, occasionally reminding Roman to walk briskly. Roman didn’t understand half of what Logan said, but the distraction was welcome.

“Alright, now stop.”

Roman stopped. “What is this for?”

“Imagine a circle,” Logan said. The cabin you are staying in is the center, and you are now on the edge.”

“Ok.”

“The circumference of the circle is your perimeter. I want you to walk the perimeter. Take in your surroundings, so that you can recognize where you are. You may do this at whatever speed you wish.”

Roman turned and started walking. “Ok, but what is this for?”

“While you walk the perimeter, I want you to tell me again what happened. Go into detail.”

It took Roman a good three minutes to begin, but Logan waited patiently. And then the story came flooding forth. At every pause, Logan again reassured Roman that what happened was not his fault, that he had helped, and had prevented further harm.

“I-I got back to where I started,” Roman said, sniffing.

“Well done, Roman. I want you to walk the perimeter one more time. This time, I want you to tell me what you can change. Whatever, no matter how small or how large. What can you change to prevent another similar situation, or to help if a similar situation happens again.”

“I don’t know what else to do!” Roman protested. “I did everything I knew to, and it wasn’t any good!”

“On the contrary. You did a lot of good. They are right now calmly asleep, and you brought that about. Now think of something. Could you perhaps remove the butter knives from the house?”

“Y-yeah. I could do that. Or—or paint them with something so they don’t look like silver.”

“Excellent. What else can you change?”

By the time Roman again reached the point where he started, he was feeling worlds better, and was filled with ideas that made him feel like he really could do something next time.

“Now, head back inside. Patton is awake, and I believe he will want to speak with you as well.”

“Thanks, Logan. I really, really needed that.”

Roman could hear the surprised smile in Logan’s voice. “I’d be willing to help anytime you need it. Though the perimeter will always be there. Feel free to use it again if you find yourself spiraling.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Roman hung up the phone, which had only 3% left on it, and looked up to see Patton waiting for him on the porch.

“Roman!” Patton ran into him, hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry! I said something really, really hurtful. I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”

Roman hugged Patton back. “I forgive you. You were upset, and didn’t know what you were doing.”

“No I wasn’t. I-I knew. It was supposed to hurt you. But I’m so sorry I did it!”

Roman held Patton tighter. “I still forgive you. Come on, let’s go back inside. None of us really ate anything today.”

“Ok. Thank you.”

Roman gave Patton a smile before opening the door.

[zahra-kha]

Dear Diary 36

I’ve written in you less and less of late. This makes for less of a chronicle of my life if I don’t write in you diligently doesn’t it? Well, to be honest, I don’t feel like I need to remember every detail of my life. Especially with everything that’s been going on lately.

However, not all of it has been dark spots. Some of it has been grey, some of it has been bright. I’ve been wading myself through uncharted territory and I can’t say I’ve always made the best or correct decisions but I’m also not perfect. 

I wrote in my previous entry that I didn’t know what I was supposed to do now that my troupe was...the way it was. I didn’t know what my purpose was here in Eorzea. If I’m honest with myself, I’m still not entirely sure. I’m frightened, nervous, and there are times when I feel alone. The people who I thought were my support - it’s a mystery if they ever really cared about me (which I’ll get into in a bit) - turned out to be a source of immense pain. I’m trying to recover from that but I wish I could explain to people how difficult that is. How hard it is to trust again when family betrays you.

There’s insecurities there that weren’t before. When I spoke to Sid, I initially told him that it probably wouldn’t make a difference if I left to return home, because everyone had their lives and everyone would eventually move on with their lives. I said that, but I didn’t really mean that. To be honest, I was just scared. It’s easier to leave than to be abandoned, easier to walk away than learn later you were never wanted or needed. Easier to pull away than get rejected.

But my whole life I’ve been running. I walk forward so I can run from something that’s been chasing me. I felt like this time if I moved forward, without looking back on what I’d gained, I’d lose something really precious. And I felt like something in me would break and never recover.

I spoke with Sid for a while at the Bojza camp - it was helpful. I wasn’t looking for answers, I don’t think I was. Maybe just some clarity from my chaotic thoughts. It was easy to talk to him. He was kind and patient with me as I rambled. He didn’t try to push me in any direction, and I was grateful. I wanted to know a bit more about him, I felt maybe he understood a bit of what I was feeling. I thought maybe if I understood him, it’d help guide me to a decision. Was that selfish? Writing that down, it almost sounds as if I was using his feelings and experiences. But I also genuinely wanted to know more about him. I think he’s an interesting person that carries a profound sadness, but it also seems he’s managed to find happiness and a sense of purpose. 

That’s what I want, a sense of purpose again. Sid wondered if maybe what I’m searching for is what I lost - my family. I conceded that maybe that was it. But I’m just so hesitant in calling another group family again after what happened. I spent half my life with those people, and none of it was real. I loved them, but I was just a means to an end for them.

It would break me, shatter me beyond repair, if I fell into that trap again with everyone currently in my life.

I want to, I so badly want to believe and trust in them. They’ve been there for me, they’ve helped me, healed me. Cared for me during this whole ordeal. Hells, they have bled for my sake. And of course, I have not hesitated to jump into the fires for them as well. But that’s completely different from fully giving my heart. I just...can’t. I’m trying, but every time it’s like something cold and hard grabs hold of my throat and claws down, screaming I’m a fool. Fear consumes me, and I feel as if I’m drowning.

For now, I’m just content to be here. Sid helped me organize my thoughts and realize my path lies here. I want to heal here, and be around the friends who have shown me care. I want to relearn how to believe in true bonds again. I want to walk forward and see where the road takes me, and I don’t want to be afraid - I don’t want to do it alone.

That’s what I’ve decided.

I managed to tell Quin (Leo?) a bit of this, I hope I didn’t worry him too much. I was a bit under the weather when the truth came out, I’d been shot on the battlefield and was recovering - but it was a good talk. It’s amazing, when I first met Quin, I don’t think I had a good impression of him, and I don’t think he had any real impression of me. Now I think of him as a silly little brother. 

Speaking of, Quin and Erith got fake married! That was...interesting? I probably should have done more to stop it but it wasn’t official so I didn’t really see the harm. Uh, save for Erith putting Quin at shotgun point. I don’t know, I don’t really like getting between their dynamics because they have a really unique relationship but it’s quite clear they deeply care for one another. So I just go with their antics. Should I though? Am I enabling bad behavior?  [There’s a drawing of a dizzy Zahra along the margins]

I wonder if festivals bring out romance? There were quite a few couples seeking blessings and marriages, so I guess maybe they do? Erith was looking for a husband for Bernon so there was that. I didn’t really know how to feel about it. Not really lonely? Wistful, maybe? I can’t say I’m looking for a profound relationship, but I think having someone to laugh with and share small moments with would be nice.

Maybe...not quite the same as what Erith and Quin have. Being at shotgun point is frightening. I completely understand why Quin started drinking. Heavily.

I’m rambling, but my mind has been all over the place. I’m avoiding talking about what’s really going on in my head because I’m not sure if writing this down, reliving it, will be easy.

I’m talking about my confrontation with Sahrin.

I don’t know what I was expecting when I demanded answers from him. I think I was expecting him to explain why Sai did what she did. I was hoping he’d smile at me and tell me everything was a misunderstanding, or that they’d been acting on their own accord and he hadn’t know anything.

I didn’t mind Gail putting pressure on him - she understands what it means to be a leader, and how hard it can be to have people do things behind your back, and the heavy responsibility that leadership entails.

I also realize what I’d done to him - I appeared out of no where and threatened him into a meeting right after he’d seen everything he’d built up burned to the ground. Of course he was confused, of course he wanted answers. I’d given him nothing. I’m sure he tried to look into it on his own, but he likely didn’t get very far since he’d been gone so long deal with Armand and was unaware of all that’d been going on.

No one is omniscient, but I wasn’t entirely in a caring mood. People I had once cared about deeply had tried to kill me more than once - I was tired.

Father once told me that there are always two sides to a story, and what you know is always just a small part of a whole. He said it’s always good to know and understand the full picture of things, but never let that knowledge influence how the ending needs to be written. And if I can help it, I should always be the one holding the quill to those short chapters in my life.

Sahrin told us about Sai and Esila, and then he told us about the foundation of the troupe and what its original purpose had been. The first troupe they’d all been in - I knew they had worked for the government covertly, doing their bidding under the belief they were serving their nation. Even if it was unpleasant, someone has to do it.

Sahrin and the others felt the troupe wasn’t looking at the real threat - the Empire. And I suppose I can understand their fear. With the way the empire was expanding, the idea that Thavnair would have remained a free nation forever was questionable at best. The Empire wanted to be a world power, once they’d conquered all they’d truly desired, why not take Thavnair too?  Would we had really been able to stop them, if they had truly put their forces to it? 

"We’ll be on their list eventually.” was a legitimate fear. It was one I’d heard on the lips of some nobles and commoners growing up. Not everyone liked the Empire in Thavnair. Not everyone felt the arrangement we had was beneficial. For all the ones who welcomed them for business and trade, there were those who feared them. 

I guess Sahrin had been one of those people. He’d become frustrated with his troupe and decided to form his own. Except he couldn’t be normal about it, no. He took others who had anti-Imperial sentiment and they all decided they were going to bring in children to train and raise them - and by raise I mean brainwash - into perfect anti-Imperial fighting tools.

I cannot express the emotions I went through upon hearing that.

I mean, yes, it’s preferable to bring children into a troupe’s fold because it’s easier to train a dancer when they’re younger, more flexible, and their minds retain things easier, than to start them when they’re much older. I’m going to try and give them the benefit of the doubt and hope that’s what they - no, what Sahrin was thinking when he started this. I don’t want to think of Sahrin as a bad person. There’s just a part of me that refuses to do that.

But I can’t...forgive him for creating the troupe with those intentions. It really doesn’t matter that ‘he grew a conscious’ with me and changed his mind. Congratulations, I guess? Maybe one day when I’m not feeling so angry I’ll send him a cookie for deciding not to be quite the terrible person he could have been.

Okay. I’m feeling petty. And angry. And hurt. But his admission ripped the floor of my reality right out from under me. I admired him, looked up to him - I had wanted to be like him. I had wanted to grow up and eventually be a role model to others because of him. And then to learn all of that had been based on a foundation of lies - that I had initially been nothing more than a tool for his ambitions...

Even if he had changed his mind, clearly the others hadn’t, and that hurts. And he knew that. He’d known and I guess had been trying to change them. But you can’t change people who actively choose to hate - even if they feel their cause is righteous. There is a right way to go about change, and using - hurting - children is not it.

Sahrin helped us decipher some of the letters, and it honestly made a bit more sense when he put them into perspective. It looks like Esila really was trying to sell me out to some guy named ‘Darling’. I don’t know why he wanted me so badly, but apparently, Cecilia was getting traded to Sabe, and I was gonna get sold off in some auction had everything gone well. In exchange, I guess they were going to get their audience with Orhan and incriminate Sahrin. Sahrin guesses this was all to get a connection back to the old troupe.

They wanted a way back to the old troupe so they lied, cheated, and were even willing to kill to do it. The warmth, smiles, all of those good times we had were all fake.

I was at a loss of what to believe in. I felt like an idiot for falling for their schemes for so long. I should have seen it - hadn’t I grown up surrounded by scheming adults? I should have known better by now.

I told Sahrin I never wanted to see him again, and then after that the rest of the night was a bit of a blur. I know everyone came back to my apartment. I served them drinks and sandwiches. I wanted to make sure Quin was okay. Outside of that, I don’t remember much. They left and I remember taking Bitey and  Fènghuáng away. I still haven’t gone back to the kennel to pick them up. 

I went back to my apartment and I just...suddenly I hated everything about it. It reminded me of home, of my troupe -  and everything went white, then red. My heart felt heavy and my eyes burned. I think I screamed. I know I cried. And then I fled. I ran and ran and ran. Until my legs turned to rubber and my lungs screamed and I fell down...somewhere. I didn’t recognize the surroundings. I think I was around a lot of trees and sand. I just know the breeze felt good against my skin, and the grass was cool and comforting. 

I cried, an ugly, gulping, gut wrenching cry - until there wasn’t anything left. And then I sat back against the cliffs and stared up at the sky until the sun rose. I didn’t want to return to the apartment, so I didn’t.

And then the next day I went and dyed my hair black. I need to find some white clothing, to mark the passing of the troupe, my family, and for Esila. The Esila I knew and loved - not the one who wanted to trade me to I guess slavers. The woman I had known to be a good person.

I will mourn her death, because she had lived, and she had brought me joy, even if it had been made of lies.

[favefandomimagines]

All I Want (p.p.)

Summary: you have to choose which boy to go back to; peter or harry.

AN: inspired by the song ‘All I Want’ from high school musical the musical the series AND sorry i’ve been MIA recently but life has been kicking my ass but i’m back and ready for action! (until my next semester of college anyways)

“Peter, I need to tell you something.” You started as you sat with your boyfriend on his bed. “What’s up?” He asked, looking up at you. “Well, uh, I-I love you.” You stammered. 

Silence filled the room as Peter’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Uh, I don’t really know what to say.” Peter finally said. You looked up at him and hurt wiped over your face. “You can start by saying it back.” You said. “Unless you don’t feel the same.” You quickly added. “I don’t know how I feel.” He said. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat before gathering your things. “I think I’m gonna go.” You said quietly. “No, Y/N, you don’t have to.” Peter protested. “I think it’s best if I do.” You replied. 

Peter didn’t say anything as he watched you pack up your things. You left his room without another word for fear that your voice would break and you’d start crying.

After that night, it was radio silence from Peter. You didn’t really talk much and then he said he thought the two of you should take a break. You took that as a . breakup. Not a break. You didn’t believe in breaks, you could chalk that up to your childhood trauma. 

Then you met Harry Osborne the summer before junior year started. You met him on the trip to Europe, his father having known your father. You were the oldest daughter of Tony Stark and though he was a big supporter of you and Peter, his death brought you unbelievably close. 

You wish he was there to talk to after Peter broke up with you. Morgan was too young, Pepper was busy trying to run Stark Industries and MJ wasn’t really your closest confidant after her and Peter’s Summer fling. 

But, Harry helped. You really liked him. He was polite, kind, put you first, told you you were going to do great things. You and Peter were back to being friendly and he so badly wanted to get back together with you. He knew he loved you when he saw you with someone else. So he tried everything to get back on your good side. 

You could see that. You could see he was trying and he was sorry. You were with Harry though and you really liked him. But you didn’t know just how far he was willing to go to make sure you weren’t going to go anywhere.

“Harry, what did you do?” You asked your boyfriend as you stood in the hallway. “I did something really bad.” He said, pulling your dad’s glasses out of his pocket. “You took my glasses.” You commented. “I was afraid you and Peter were going to get back together and you were going to leave. I had to make sure that wasn’t going to happen.” He explained. “So you took my glasses, that my dad gave me, to spy on not only me, but Peter?” You questioned. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He said. “That’s a huge invasion of my privacy, Harry! And it shows that you don’t trust me.” You snapped. 

“Is there any way you could forgive me?” He asked, more like begging. “I don’t know. I just, need to think.” You told him before walking away.

You sat in your room, more like sulking, contemplating what you were going to do. Then you thought about your dad. How even when the arc reactor was killing him, he knew what was the right thing. Well at least he thought he did. But it showed you what not to do. You only wished he was there to help you.

“Hey, kiddo. Pepper made you some food.” Rhodey said, opening your door. “I’m not hungry.” You replied. “Y/N, what’s going on? You’re always hungry.” He joked. “Well, Peter and I broke up because I told him I loved him and Harry stole my glasses to spy on me and Peter. Now I have to choose.” You explained.

Rhodey sighed as he walked further into your room. “And you need advice.” He said. “Is it bad that I wish dad were here to offer his not so stellar advice that led to really good advice?” You questioned with a laugh. “No, no it’s not bad to miss your dad.” He answered.

“I don’t know what to do, Uncle Rhodey. I have one guy who’s perfect on paper but he lied to me. And then I have another who pushed me away after I told him I loved him.” You said.

“Which one makes you happy?” Rhodey asked. “Well, uh, Peter is-“ You started before Rhodey cut you off. “I think you have your answer.” He said.

You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, confused as to what he meant by that. “What does that even mean?” You asked. “Y/N, Peter is a good kid. He can be an idiot sometimes but he’s not a bad guy. And if there’s one person on this planet who is made for you, it’s him. I know it, Pepper knows it and so did Tony.” Rhodey explained.

“Your father knew a lot and he taught a lot. Like not letting your powers control you, you control them. Or if your life got harder it means you’ve leveled up. He also told you choose what makes you happy. And Peter makes you happy doesn’t he?” He added.

“Why are you so good at this?” You questioned. Rhodey laughed before walking back towards the door. “I’ll cover for you with Pepper. Now go find Peter.” He said.

You knew Peter would be out patrolling since he did that when he needed to think. The corner where Stark Tower used to be was his prime spot. Mainly because there was a mural of your dad on the building next to it.

He never knew that you picked up on it. But you knew that’s where you’d be able to find him. Since your powers were almost identical to Wanda Maximoff’s, you were able to get yourself to the roof of the building just fine.

Peter didn’t seem to notice. He was crouched on the edge of the roof, his mask in his hand. He was looking sadly at the mural as you took quiet steps towards him.

“They did a good job. Got the arc reactor just right.” You spoke, startling the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. “Y/N? How did you know I was here?” Peter asked. “You favor this rooftop when you’re patrolling. FRIDAY let’s me know.” You answered. “Then what are you doing here?” He questioned.

You walked towards him so that you didn’t feel miles apart from him.

“I broke up with Harry. He stole my glasses and was able to spy on not only me, but you too.” You said. “Why would Harry need to spy on me?” Peter asked. “Because he thought we were getting back together. He thought stealing my glasses was his way of making me stay with him.” You said.

“I’m sorry you guys broke up.” He said. “I’m not. It was unhealthy. I also got some sense knocked into me today. You’ve always made me happy, Peter. And a wise old man once told me to choose what makes me happy. And I haven’t had much of a hand in choosing things since I was kidnapped when I was 14. So that’s what I’m doing.” You started. “I’m choosing you, Peter. If you’ll have me.” You finished.

Peter was quiet for a moment but you could see the warmth in his eyes. “You really mean that?” He asked. “Every word of it.” You answered. “I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” You added.

Peter smiled and let out a bit of a laugh before he walked towards you. And in one sweeping motion, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply.

Almost as if it was the first and last time he’d be able to do that.

You kissed him back, gladly, and wrapped your arms around his neck. After a few seconds, the two of you parted and rested your foreheads against each other.

“I’ve waited so long to do that. And Y/N, I’m so sorry for pushing you away like I did. Especially after you told me you loved me. I knew I did and I didn’t say it back.” Peter said.

“Hey, hey, Pete, it’s over now. We can start over again and just be Peter and Y/N.” You said. “Just like how it used to be.” You added. “But Mr. Stark isn’t here.” Peter muttered.

You clenched your jaw and grabbed his hand before turning him around towards the mural. “Who says he not? He’s always here. It took me a long time to realize that but just because he’s not here physically, doesn’t mean he’s not here with us everyday.” You said.

Peter turned around and looked at you in awe. How you could lose your dad and still be so graceful about it. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked with a small smile. “I just--I just can’t believe you’re giving me another chance. I love you, so much.” He said. Your smile grew as you looked at him and took in what he was saying. “And I love you too, webslinger.” You replied. 

“How did Harry take it?” Peter asked. “He saw it coming. He knew what he did was wrong and knew that I would always love you. You can never get over your first love.” You explained. “Do you think he’s gonna hate me now?” He questioned. 

You laughed a bit before shaking your head. “I don’t think he’s going to hate you. Like I said, he saw it coming.” You said. Peter smiled at you and kissed you lightly. “I’m happy you came back to me.” He said quietly. “So am I.” You replied. 

AN: not my best but i missed peter parker and his cuteness and i’ve written worse. 

[lunnamars]

Hello! I heard you wanted prompts ~~ "winter" with Ichiruki please?

Oh hello! So, although IchiRuki is my otp and forever will be, it's been a while I haven't actually read anything about them and there's the fact I have never written anything related to mah pretty babies. Actually, it turned out a little bigger than I expected, but well, I hope you like it! :) 

Ah, a quick reminder that English is not my first language, so forgive me for my mistakes. 

The cold had never been a problem to Kuchiki Rukia, which meant that the winter would never freeze her. After all, she's cold and snow herself. But the loneliness and the melancholy of that particular season had always affected her.

And there was something about the winter of those 17 months she spent locked in Sereitei and away from Karakura Town that had left her frozen inside. And even after all was said and done, when Ywach was gone and he and the others had gone back to his mundane life, she still felt kind of cold.

It has been a year she hasn’t seen him. And it was really fucking cold.

Rukia doesn’t know actually why she had not followed him through the Senkaimon to his world and why she still prevents herself from going to visit him and his family. Karin and Yuzu must be bigger now and way smarter than their thickheaded brother. Their father probably is still the same and she hoped he was, Rukia has always been very fond of him.

He probably was in his first year of college and she is happy for him. Rukia just wanted to tell him herself.

And when the snow is falling and the winds of winter are freezing her bones, she longed to talk to him. She really wanted to hear his voice, he's her best friend, for fuck's sake! Her partner in crime, her ride or die, the one who could actually make this cold go away. 

Rukia knows she had decided to stay, it was not his fault. She decided to stay because her life was actually there, in Seireitei and he deserved a normal life — that's what Rukia has always believed and he knows that. So she stayed behind and started to train harder than before so she could become the next Captain of the 13th Division. In all honesty, she did want to continue the legacy of Ukitake and Kaien, Rukia wanted to guide those people under her command. 

But she also wanted to be with him. 

Why the hell didn't she follow him? Why the hell didn't he ask her to go with him? Why the goddamn fuck did she tell him he should go, so he could still have the life he should have, and that she should stay?

Those 17 months were one of the hardest, with summer or winter. 

She heard from Renji that Inoue finally got to go out on a date with him and that did not sit well with Rukia. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she was somewhat happy for her friend.

But did he enjoy it? How did he feel? What was he thinking? She really wanted to know, like the old times. Maybe he wouldn’t tell her, but Rukia knew that just a look into his eyes would tell her everything. That's how they are. And she's pretty sure that if he walked through the doors of the Kuchiki mansion (in this goddamn cold) right now, she would still know him. Like, really know him.

Rukia had no words for the hell they were — just friends, best friends? Lovers? Something that transcends the ordinary idea of lovers? Soulmates?

She did not care. She just wanted to see him, give him a quick hug and then kick him, hear his voice, tell him that it doesn’t matter who he was hooking up with, she'd always be by his side because Rukia had lived a long and lonely life after death and he was the one who changed everything. 

The only thing she was sure it was that there have always had some unmistakable glint in her eyes when she looked at him and Rukia is a closed person, but he would forever break through her walls, baring her soul.

It was fucking cold, the winter was unforgiving this year and she missed him. 

To hell this idiocy of mine, stop being a goddamn coward, Rukia.

"Byakuya-ni-sama, I'll be off for two or three days, but don't need to worry about me", Rukia walks into her brother's office and says, absentminded while reading some reports. She has made her decision, but Kuchiki Rukia does not neglect work.

"I don't think that will be necessary, Rukia", comes the deep voice of her brother.

"What— why—"

And she stops midsentence and dead on her tracks. Her eyes widen and her heart actually skips a lot of beats.

"Ichigo."

"Yo, midget",  he smirks and suddenly, Rukia could not hear the wild winds of winter.

"Well, as I'm sure I'm not needed here, I'll let you both talk in private", Byakuya says with his usual stern demeanor.

Rukia is speechless (and for the record, she is never speechless) and barely pays attention to her brother's departure. He's here. Why are you here?

"Because I was a dumbass a year ago", he mumbles with his everyday frown. She had missed that too. But the fact he basically had read her mind didn’t go unnoticed by her. "I shoulda stayed with you."

She blinks and swallows hard. Rukia wanted to hear that so badly a year go. Heck, she still wanted to hear that, but her instinct to protect him always kicks in and always will if they ever meet again in another life. "No, you shouldn’t have. Ywach's words were not meant to be taken lightly, you moron."

Is it weird that she missed calling him a moron?

"You're unbelievable. I don’t see your sorry ass in a whole fucking year and the first thing you call me is moron?", he was fuming and she sneered.

"Haa… did you expect me to jump right to your skinny arms?", she raised an eyebrow, mocking him all the while.

"Hey!! My arms are not skinny anymore!", he poked her head really hard.

And then Rukia kicked him. Just like she wanted. But Ichigo was Ichigo and he didn’t even let her savor the moment, their moments of the good old days — he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer. It was so easy for him to tower over her, especially when he catches her off guard, both things never ceased to make her feel somewhat fragile and protected at the same time. It made no sense in her head. 

Then he muttered, “I was a dumbass. I really was.”

And she responded in the same tone, “Me too.”

Rukia knew she already had the distinct spark in her eyes that only Ichigo was able to spurt out of her. It has been a year and he still does the same thing to her, he’s still completely effective against her — the smirk, the softness in his eyes, his unquestionable handsome features.

Those 17 months were the worst of my life, I’m sure of it. The worst winter, I was cold all the time.

But Rukia is stupid sometimes and always so so worried about him and she suspects she forever will. So she blurts, "Inoue is better for you."

Hurt dances in his eyes and a twist of his mouth scream to her how disappointed he was. But Ichigo never backs down, no, not Ichigo. Just a look into his eyes and expression and Rukia knows why he was there. After all, she had said before and will say it again — they know each other so well that it seems almost some kind of witchcraft someone cast on them in another life.

He pulls her closer, really close, and one hand is around her waist and she’s trapped, almost giving in—

"I don't want to be with Inoue", his tone is final, certain.

Then Rukia whispers with a trembling voice as if she doesn’t believe a word that was flying out of her mouth, "Inoue can give you so much more."

"I don't want whatever she can give me."

Ichigo leans in her brother’s desk behind him and they were almost on the same height. He was too tall and she was too short, so she rarely had the chance to be that close to his face to the point of drowning in his brown eyes, see clearly how he had marks from frowning so much and his well-shaped mouth.

He looked frantically at her, orbs moving fast, piercing her own big eyes, expecting some reaction from her. 

I don’t want to be cold anymore. I wanna go home.

"That'd never work. I'm literally a ghost, stupid boy. And you have an entire life ahead of you. Why waste your life with someone who's already dead?", she starts stumbling over her words and her expression was pleading for him to understand, it was almost pitiful, full of the longing of a whole freaking year. “Besides, what about Yhwach? I know I’m assuming you’d be happy with this predicament, but—”

Now he was truly close, looking at her lips, seeming to not listen to a word that was leaving her mouth; deciding, in the end, to swallow her pleas and doubts, “Then I’ll fight him again and again and again.”

Ichigo mumbled in her mouth and then she comes undone when he rests his hand in the back of her neck, his lips meeting hers. They had never kissed before, but somethings stirs inside her, some old memory and then she’s not frozen anymore. Any argument she had, dies in her throat, dies with her gasp and with her eyes closing ever so slowly, dies with Ichigo flushing her body to his, locking and embracing her, with the intensity of a year apart. 

She finds usage for her hands, resting one on his back — feeling the muscles, the spine, everything — and the other gripping his shirt with all the longing she had inside her. Then she had no idea how, didn’t even see it coming, but his tongue found hers and he tilts her head slightly, kissing with all the fierceness he possessed and Rukia caught her breath. With every nip of her lip and any tease of his tongue, he’s asking her to choose him. 

Asking her to stay with him. 

Like she had any control when it comes to Ichigo. So her answer overflows with every bite on his lips, with her hands running up and down his back, with the soft moan she let it slip. 

They part an eternity later so Ichigo could rest his forehead on hers, both panting for breath and she had never felt warmer in her life — no cold and lonely winter is able to break her now. He whispers again, his mouth brushing against hers, "You don't want it to work, Rukia?"

She closes her eyes and mutters, “I don’t want you to die, Ichigo. Everything I did from the moment we met was to make sure you wouldn’t die.”

“Please, Rukia”, a kiss, “It was really hard—”, another kiss, “to keep up with the speed of the world on those 17 months”, a tug on her lips, “Don’t do that to me again.”

“Ichigo—”, she whimpers.

"Let me stay. Please, midget."

Another kiss.

"Are you trying to convince me by kissing me?", she scoffed.

He decided to leave her lips and trail her jawline with slow-dive kisses, then basically purred in her ear, "I don't know, is it working?"

She could feel his smirk. Bastard.

Rukia rested her head on his temple and whispered with the affection she normally keeps to herself, "I want you to stay."

He stops kissing her and holds her tight in his arms, resting his head on her shoulder. "I missed you, you know? It was raining too much already", he says in a strange strained voice.

She answers with one of her own, but with sincerity, "Me too. The winter was almost unbearable, Ichigo."

He moves away just enough to look at her and then has the audacity to grin at her face after so many confessions, "So… is that an order, Captain Kuchiki?"

"I'm still not a Captain, Ichigo!"

"But you will be, so might as well start training", he shot her his lopsided smile that always lets her wondering how someone was not able to fall for it. She did, but no way in hell she would tell him.

She puts her hand in her chin and actually considers his suggestion, Ichigo just laughed. "Mmm, from that point of view, I guess you're right", then she arches an eyebrow and says in a mocking tone, "That's a first, huh."

Ichigo presses his lips in a thin line and she was almost sure there is a vein pulsing in his forehead, "Oe, you damn shorty—"

Before he finally snaps, she dives in and steals another breathtaking kiss and decides that she loved to hear him gasp. In the end, he had convinced her and she knew danger would always be lurking around, hunting them, trying to tear them apart, to sever their red thread, but Ichigo said he'd fight over and over again. So she'd do the same, over and over again.

"Just shut up and stay, Kurosaki."

Winter will never freeze her again.

[ohsweetflips]

Pls give us the AtLA rant, I have a mighty need!

askjskjsdkjdskj i copy and pasted my rant from last night bc imo the raw energy of “i am genuinely shocked and angry (in a good way)” is something i cannot recreate right now

so here is the rant i went on in my groupchat + the secret side conversation i had in DMs bc, in my 3 person gc, 2 of us are watching it for the first time and i already knew some stuff going in so i didn’t want to spoil

it’s all under the cut bc it’s long as fuck (like almost 2k words if not more) 

but basically i go into my own type of avatar-state while talking abt zuko!!!!

(I HAVEN’T STARTED BOOK 3 YET, PLEASE NO SPOILERS)

groupchat:

but i just finished book 2 and it took a completely different turn from what i thought it was going to like i am actually in shock and have officially reached my point of "zuko what the actual fuck" because the choice to do good was right there after everything he and iroh went through and after all that he saw and letting aang go multiple times and he was starting to be happy in this new life and saw that he and iroh could be free and he still went back to azula for his pride and honor, turning against aang and katara after he and katara could have finally reached a moment of understanding

but like what the fuck i am more mad at s2 zuko than i was at s1 zuko bc, in season 1, the avatar and his honor was the only thing he thought about, but in s2, he met people who had their lives ruined by the fire nation!! and he worked with them!!!! iroh was showing him what it was like to live completely free, doing what he wants!!!! and he was starting to understand!!!!! but im so pissed and so fucking shocked bc, this entire fucking time, i was like "oh yeah the end of s2 is going to be when zuko joins, right? bc i mean book 3 is fire, so zuko has to teach him fire bending" but no, he willingly chose to keep pursuing the avatar after fucking everything he has seen, after knowing how people were affected by the fire nation, after everything iroh did for him

and he knows what he did!! he knows!!!!! he told azula that he betrayed iroh!!!!!!! he fucking knows

when iroh showed up to fight both him and azula, i was fucking losing it bc iroh's love has been so unconditional for zuko, he supported zuko through everything and even helped him try to capture the avatar at times, but that was the final straw

zuko willingly walked into world domination. he doesn't even fucking trust azula! he never has! but she brought up his pride and honor, and she's powerful as all hell, and he sided with her! after everything!

i really thought he was learning that his quest for the avatar was fruitless! it's not going to bring him happiness! his life in the fire nation will never return to normal

aang has saved his life so many god damn times, him and katara were reaching a point of understanding! they fucking talked about how the fire nation took both of their mothers

and i'm so floored bc this was all willing

when zuko was exiled, he had no choice! it was either find the avatar or have no home. but he was finding a home! he finally seemed so happy with iroh! it really seemed like iroh's teachings were getting through to him! that he was learning what he really wanted (freedom)! but he still went back to the fire nation except this time he chose to. he looked at the people he was starting to understand, at the man who has been a better father than ozai ever could, and willingly chose to turn away for the sake of pillaging and conquering and "honor" in a family that doesn't care about him

at first, i was like "this has to be a trick, right? he's fighting them now so that he can backstab azula later, right?"

but when katara said to him "i thought you changed!" and he said "i have" i was fucking besides myself

im so angry but im also fucking exhilirated bc this i did not expect

i would've put so much money on there being a meaningful moment of zuko stepping up alongside aang

like, i was so sure this would happen

i was convinced

but holy shit

and fucking!!! zuko knows what iroh went through at ba sing se with the loss of his son (and probably the realization that what the fire nation was doing was fucked up) and zuko still turned against iroh

after everything iroh did for him! iroh was the only person who stood by zuko's side during everything. he pleaded zuko's case over and over, he seeked out the gaang bc he needed their help and he was so sure that zuko would make the right decision!!! he saw zuko let the avatar go before, but when zuko was faced w/ azula's assistance and the avatar right there, he just went back to his old ways except worse bc this is willing

and like

am i discounting the manipulations of azula and ozai? no!!!

that definitely had a hand in it, bc azula has been dangling honor and ozai's love in front of zuko the entire time

but i really thought that the end of s2 would be when zuko sees past all of that

except he turned back to the family that doesn't even love him, betraying the only person who truly cared for him and loved him unconditionally and wanted the best for him, and now he has a direct hand in the collapse of ba sing se and world domination

like okay let it be known that this is some of the best writing ive seen and im fucking obsessed and im living for this and it's so fucking good so my anger is fueled by excitement and shock

and also i fucking love negative character development

like. i love zuko. and literally i think that's part of this too bc i was so sure that he was going to make the right decision

and instead i had to face the dawning realization that he wasn't

and now he and azula are teaming up to end the earth kingdom

like i thought i knew where this was gonna go and now i'm genuinely lost (in a good way)

and like i haven't even touched upon aang's chakra being locked bc he went back to katara

(also don't even get me started on the painful irony of iroh telling aang that sometimes it's better to choose love and friendship over power)

(like really don't get me started because i'm about to combust)

after everything iroh did for zuko!!!

after the gaang has saved his life!!!!!!!

and the best thing is, it was shocking but still not out of character

that's the beautiful thing

this was always an option for zuko

it's the point of the crossroads!!! you can go either way!!!!!!!

i just thought he was gonna go...................... the other way

and like literally the fact that he sided with azula after obviously not liking her basically his entire life (or at least his adolescence) is so fucking telling for how he made this decision bc. unless there's some behind the scenes stuff, he saw the avatar and his pride and his honor so clearly, and he saw how powerful azula was becoming, and decided that he would still take it even in the face of azula's manipulations and violence

if that makes sense

if you can't tell, i'm kinda reeling right now

like, apparently zuko wants his honor/power so badly that he'll side with azula!!!

after they spent an entire season fighting her

but also....... azula finally gave him that option of working together. before, it was always azula vs. zuko

now, though, azula was offering a world dominating olive branch

so now like im thinking....... what if that happened earlier? would zuko always have turned? or is it just because everything he ever wanted was so close to him?

and it's wonderful bc it's still so in-character. like, even siding with azula, it's not bc he suddenly cares for his sister or whatever, but it's because he chose honor/pride/the fire nation over freedom/giving up what he always wanted. i don't think he was choosing azula, he was choosing his pre-written destiny over making his own

god is any of this making sense i am literally so fucking shocked

i literally need like 3 episodes solely on iroh at this point bc you know what probably fucking sucks??? losing his first son to the war in ba sing se, and then losing his nephew (who he saw as another son) to starting war in ba sing se

like? that has to feel like a fucking slap in the face ten times over

especially bc iroh left the fire nation with zuko (and probably for zuko), most likely giving up his full title there

and like? the fighting sequences are so cool but it was so fucking heartbreaking to hear iroh tell aang "you go on ahead! i will hold off both of them!" because like. iroh can't wait any longer! he thinks (and knows) that zuko is making the wrong choice, but he can't wait any longer! he can't stand by while zuko dominates an entire city and say "oh, he's really complicated, he's going through something"! because zuko did go through it and he came out of it and he still made that choice! iroh probably feels like all his patience, all his efforts, all his teachings and love, went to fucking waste! because it didn't get him anywhere!

like, iroh probably still loves zuko but he probably feels so fucking betrayed and hurt and disappointed because, after seeing zuko let the avatar go before and seeming so happy, he probably thought that zuko was changing for the better! and now, he has to fight his niece AND his nephew! this no longer is zuko insulting some other general or his crew that iroh can fix by explaining what happened w/ ozai and how zuko is very conflicted! this is a situation that zuko willingly walked in, even after hearing and knowing all of iroh's teachings!

anyways! poetic cinema

like also pls dont think im ignoring everything else in the episode, like aang's chakra being locked was fucking wild and that entire episode was so good, with the fight sequences and everything abt azula, and toph’s metal bending, just forgive me bc im a little uhhhhh distracted by a twist that i genuinely did not expect

i feel bad for how focused i am right now on zuko but also how can i not be bc that feels so connected to literally everything else

also tho on a brighter note, true serotonin was when appa finally returned :')

it's so wonderful that appa broke out by himself. he did it all on his own! no one else was there. at all :)

(im kidding that was actually a very important moment in zuko's character)

(or at least i thought it was going to be)

(well actually it still is, but it's come to the question of "you can always say what you're going to do in a situation, but what happens when you're actually faced with it?”)

DMs:

i know that zuko gets redeemed, right? like i know, in the end, they will all team up

but the fact that it didn't happen now

holy shit

like.......... a whiiiiiiile ago on tumblr, i saw a post that was like "zuko has a great redemption but he needed to work for it bc he did awful things" and like? tbh yeah i got that s1 zuko was the antag and he did shitty things but like...................... this feels so much more poignant

like zuko literally has a direct hand now in the collapse of the earth kingdom

literally not to be dramatic but this is like. taz-reveal levels of shocked right now.

i thought i knew the zuko arc

bc i know he gets redeemed!!

so, after watching this season, i was thinking "oh okay it's gonna be this season! makes sense!"

but.... deep down

deep down..............

a part of me was kinda like "so is season 1 zuko....... it? is that the end of his antagonisms? is season 2 meant to be his redemption? i dig it, but i thought it would be more...................... dramatic"

well!

got what i wished for!

and i am in the best kinds of hell

like i almost feel bad bc so much other stuff happened in the finale (like, for example, aang's chakra being locked, which i screamed at, it was so good) but like. i genuinely did not expect this.

like. holy fuck.

like, now i really understand why people say that zuko needed to really work for his redemption bc he and azula are tag teaming the end of the earth kingdom

[sparklingpax]

Tales From Iacon - Part 3: Understanding

A/N:

-Part 1, Part 2

-I also have a wattpad where I’m posting updates as well as other stories! (user is @/kunixjiro)

-Lol so after an actual eternity I finally resolved this,,,sorta,,,,sorry for the wait ^^’’

-Sorry if this is badly written (and for any typos, mistakes, weird phrasings, etc)

-This one’s long too O//O’’ oops....^^’’

-Please forgive me for constantly making up bots to fill roles I need in stories lolo I,,,I promise I’ll figure out a better way to do that,,,,, :’D

-Oh, and apologies if anyone was ooc >//< 

-And yes I cut it off before the encounter because I’m mean >:D and because it’s not done being edited but I really really really wanted to post the next part of this story tonight so anyway, here we are ^^’’

-Ahhh....and with that, I guess, enjoy!!! <3

///

Weeks had passed since Orion and Megatronus had parted.

           Megatronus had fought more battles at the rink. Since then, a familiar ache had set into his bones, making him wonder why every fight seemed duller than the last. Yet, for the crowds that surrounded him most nights, he put on his best show. Judging by the sounds of their cheers, he had done a good job at that.

           Though, at his spark, their cheers felt distant and faded.

           Why was it such a big deal, that the archivist did not wish to see you fight?

           When he was alone, the thought came to bother him, to almost taunt him for being so…dramatic. For a moment, he’d justify himself, but Megatronus quickly came to see that Orion had come with only good intentions.

           What I lacked was understanding, a grand flaw I have yet to fix, it seems.

           Parts of him wished he could forget about Orion…but most of him wished only to see his friend again—to say to him it was all ok. The last thing he’d wanted was to scare his friend away…and he’d done just that.

           All of him wondered…could Orion ever forgive him for being so childish?

///

Orion Pax had continued his work and studies. He spent his days working around the building, organizing, and filing one thing after another. At night, the young archivist studied until he couldn’t keep his optics open any longer. He worked tirelessly at his projects, writing papers with much fervor.

           Yet deep down, he felt an emptiness. Sadness and guilt continued to weigh on his spark.

           Orion wished more and more with each passing day, that he had kept silent. Had Megatronus been angry at him, he wouldn’t have minded…but the rejection that shone so clearly in his gaze…

             Orion could scarcely bear the thought as it came to distract him every now and then. Still, the young bot kept a small hope alive in his spark.

             Primus willing—he thought, setting down a box of old files—I’ll see him soon. Maybe then, I can fix things…I only hope that time has done its work.

             Almost without thinking, Orion moved towards a window, to gaze absent-mindedly at the stars dotting the sky—sparkling from afar, mildly, elegantly.  He had realized only in these past weeks that Megatronus was someone special to him…

             A friend I…do not wish to lose if I can help it.

///

             “Orion, are you in here?”

             The young bot looked up from his holopad, hearing a voice from outside the door, abruptly torn from a riveting story about—

             “Yes, Alpha Trion,” he left his desk and made his way to the door. It was quite odd that his teacher should come by at such an hour, but all the same, Orion offered no argument.

             He stepped outside to find his mentor already slowly walking down the hall. Before he could inquire about anything, Alpha Trion lifted an arm to silence him, not even turning to do so.

             “Walk with me, my student.”

             Without a word, Orion followed the master archivist, quickening his pace until he had come up beside him.

             In silence, they walked for a few minutes. Then, as if sensing Orion’s curiosity, Alpha Trion chuckled softly. His optics sparkled with gentleness, serenity, and boundless wisdom.

           Orion had always thought that—even from the first moment he’d laid eyes on his mentor, when he arrived at the door to Iacon.              

           “Orion, my student,” he began, “I am sorry to have interrupted your recreational free time.” To that, Orion gave a polite smile.

           “It was no trouble at all, master.”

           Alpha Trion hummed to himself and nodded. “I just wanted to let you know that I notice you have been working hard. Therefore, I wish to allow you a break.”

           The surge of excitement was quickly deflated once Orion quickly remembered that such free time was not of much use to him…as he no longer had anyone to meet…and nowhere to go, really.

           Sure, it was nice to read—which was usually what Orion enjoyed doing when he had the time. But since he’d met Megatronus, the prospect of hanging out with him was far more exciting than any of the tales spun in his books.

           His friend was much like a tale unto himself….

           “However, you cannot really use that time for much, right?”

           Orion’s spark skipped a beat at his mentor’s words. He halted, staring at the floor. His teacher continued on a few steps before he, too, stopped.  

           That’s right…and I have only…myself to thank for that…

           As if hearing his thoughts, Alpha Trion turned to him and drew close, placing one servo on the young scholar’s shoulder. His eyes shone with something wistful…something Orion couldn’t really put into words.

           “Young spark, listen to me.”

           “I am.”

           “The details of the situation are beyond my knowledge, but I only wish to say one thing. I sense that you know this, but you must fix whatever has happened between you and your friend. I know not his name, nor what caused the evident rift in your relationship. However, I do understand…”

           A pure sadness—some kind of deep regret—passed over his gaze, shimmering faintly.

           “I understand what it means to lose a friend, to wish only that you’d done or not done one thing or another. To wish you’d not let it all happen…that you could go back in time and do it all over.”

           He stared to his right. Following his gaze, Orion set his optics on the gorgeous mural hanging on the wall. In silence, he studied the painting—an artist’s depiction of the Thirteen Primes, all in harmonious glory and power. Not moving his eyes either, Alpha Trion spoke once more.

           “Eventually, time comes and takes from us. So, cherish what is meant to last for the moment, and replenish whatever you can. I believe you know in your spark…how to make things right. You have given it time, Orion. Do not let such a precious thing as friends slip through your servos like sand.…for no matter who they are, if they bring you joy…”

           “Such a bot is…a true friend….”

           “And now, there is understanding. Trust that he…has gained his.”

           Leaving Orion to stare ahead, speechless, Alpha Trion gave his student one last pat on the shoulder, then turned and continued down the halls, disappearing round the bend.

///

            Tap, tap, tap, tap!!

           Light footfalls sounded on the dirty, metal floors, quickly drawing closer to Megatronus’s quarters. He only barely heard them as he sat alone in his room.

            His eyes were closed, head against the wall and tilted towards the ceiling.

            No real thoughts swam around in his mind.  

           “Megatronus, sir!”

           The shrill voice reached his audio receptors, jolting him out of this blank state. He growled to himself, wishing he had not been disturbed. Then, with a sigh, he rose from the berth and unlocked the door to peek out into the halls.

          “There you are! I—I have a message from—uh, from…” the young, thin-framed, brightly colored bot shuffled around his brown bag for a moment. At last, he pulled out a thin screen—a message tablet. As the bot entered something into his delivery log, Megatronus folded his arms, interested.

           Who would be trying to contact me…who would use a message tablet…?

           “It doesn’t say who it’s from, but the order here says it’s urgent—so here you go, sir.”

           The bot carefully handed the gladiator the thin, glowing object. Megatronus nodded his thanks and took a step back into his room.

          “Uh—uhm, sir…”

          The delivery bot stammered quietly, causing Megatronus to stop look up.

          Now what?

          “Do you need something?” He asked as politely as he could.

          The thin-framed mech gripped the strap of his delivery bag and looked away for a moment before nodding.

           “I, uh…I just thought—well, I wanted to let you know th-that—um…”

           He shook his head harshly, worrying that Megatronus was starting to become annoyed.

           “I’ve…listened to a lot of your discussions—your speeches—and, um….” He took a deep breath, then looked up to Megatronus, admiration sparkling brightly in the depths of his optics.       “You’re a hero to me, sir. I—I want to let you know that…wherever you take your fight for freedom…I, for one, am right behind you…” he bowed his head a little. “As a delivery bot, with my weak, thin frame, I’m—I’m no good in any of the professions I wish I could enter, anyway…but your speeches about—y’know, equality and all…I just get so inspired!”

           Megatronus was taken completely aback by this, yet pleased to know he had one more ally in his campaign. Feeling pride in himself and joy knowing he could help this bot, he reached out and placed a firm servo on the smaller mech’s shoulder.

           “You are worth as much as you wish yourself to be, young bot. And your capability is also, only defined by you.” He smiled warmly. “What is your name?”

           The delivery bot looked so happy it seemed as if he’d burst.

           “Mikro, sir!”

           Megatronus laughed softly. “Thank you for your kind words, support, and,” he held up the message tablet with a grin, “This.” They shared a quiet laugh. After a moment, the gladiator continued. “Always remember this, Mikro. All bots have a spark in them, and that is the only deciding factor of their worth.”

            With that, he nodded a goodbye and stepped back into his room, closing the door.

           What a nice, young soul.

           He set the tablet down on a table and touched it, hoping to see who had sent the—

           “Megatronus, hello.”

           Orion’s face appeared on the screen, accompanied by his soft, level voice.

           Megatronus was greatly surprised. He felt a twinge of anger, but it was outweighed by a strange joy at seeing and hearing his friend after these long, empty weeks…

           “I am recording this from my room, and I will send it by an acquaintance of mine as soon as possible. I hope this reaches you well,” On the screen, Orion looked away, seeming nervous. “I will be at the entrance to Kaon city tomorrow. If…you are willing to meet with me…I have something to tell you—to show you—something that would not mean as much were I to share it over this screen. I apologize if I have inconvenienced you. May Primus be with you in all you do, Megatronus.”

            Click!

           Megatronus stared at the blank screen, seeing his own face reflected in the black glass. He sighed, gently setting the tablet face down. He laid on his berth, staring at the ceiling, thinking.

           Finally, he reached a decision.

           “See you tomorrow, then, Orion.”

....

I wanna just apologize again if there was any weird wording, spacing, typos, etc because I’m falling asleep/my head hurts/my stomach also hurts as I’m editing this :P ,,,,it’s 2 am,,,,,but for the sake of finally posting it because I’ve wanted to for so long, I’m trying my best! I’ll read through it tomorrow and probably fix some stuff lol

Oh an dw I’m not abandoning the other fic I’m writing, just updating this one cuz it’s been a while....^^’’

ANyway, thanks so much for reading!!! <3 

[realm-sweet-realm]

Secrets and Lies, chapter 4

This is a Death and Taxes fic. It takes the typical, predator-prey dynamic that one often sees in one-offs and tells a story with it. It’s going to be the edgiest thing I’ve written thusfar, so buckle up.

Thanks to the people who encouraged me to write this. I wasn’t sure it was a concept worth writing.

Since Grant had become Joey’s confidant, Joey had felt every suspicious eye that landed on him. There had always been suspicion towards him, of course- after all, he was having ink pipes installed around every corner of the building for no apparent reason and demanding ritual items from people’s workplaces- but he’d never been so hyperaware of them. He was growing quite sure that it wasn’t just his paranoia- those eyes really were multiplying. Moreover, Joey had been feeling Norman’s eyes on him more than usual lately- and not with the detached curiosity they used to hold. Norman wasn’t generally the most expressive person, but as of late Joey could just feel the hatred and disgust coming off of him like smoke. Using Grant- a person he ultimately knew little about in terms of character- as a listening ear had been a downright stupid mistake. At first Joey ignored his suspicion that Grant had leaked his secrets, as it probably was just a suspicion, but eventually it got the better of him, and he decided to do some interrogation.

The first thing Joey did was to ask around Accounting and Finances about anyone Grant had been spending an abnormal amount of time with. Apparently, he’d befriended their treasurer recently. He went to Toby’s office immediately. Toby looked up from his work, surprised. “Hello, Mr. Drew. What can I help you with?”

Joey sat down across from Toby and leaned over his desk. “I just want to talk. So, you’ve been hanging out with Grant Cohen lately?”

Toby was visibly nervous. “Yes?”

“Allow me to direct. He hasn’t been spreading rumours about me, has he?”

Toby’s eyes went wider. He was a terrible liar even before he opened his mouth. “No, sir.”

“If I catch you in a lie, you’re fired and I’ll out you to your next of kin. Does that change your answer?”

“Well, I didn’t lie. He hasn’t spread rumours about you, but… I do know some things. I know you hurt him. So I’ve been checking in on him, and that’s all that’s happened between us. But he hasn’t said anything - I don’t even know what exactly you’re doing to him. Honest.”

Joey’s eyes narrowed: a final attempt to intimidate extra words out of him. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” With that, Joey got up and left.

What would he do next? He definitely didn’t want to interrogate Norman- not alone at least. And no matter what, he’d have to interrogate Grant eventually to find out who knew what- that seemed like a logical next step. Anyone Grant mentioned would also need to be interrogated and killed, and of course, Grant himself had to be disposed of. This had all gotten wildly out of hand.

---

This was supposed to be Grant’s last day working at Joey Drew Studios. He had landed a job elsewhere. Of course, there would be no two week’s notice or conspicuously cleaning out his office- just carrying out anything of his that he could fit in his briefcase and abandoning the rest along with his post. Not the greatest plan, but whatever the long-term consequences were, he would handle them as they came- and there was no way in hell that he was telling Joey he was quitting. He feared Joey’s anger far too much for that. It seemed like nothing could go wrong until Joey knocked on his door. After letting Joey in and locking the door, Grant got onto his knees and started taking off his clothes. He knew the drill, and he was beyond even avoiding eye contact at this point, instead looking at Joey with dead eyes that said, we both know that neither of us is going to enjoy this. Maybe this time Joey would get bored and leave before hurting him too badly.

That was the really sad and pathetic part, and both of them understood it. Joey wasn’t even enjoying this aspect of their relationship anymore. He used to enjoy the panic in Grant’s eyes, his nervous smiles and his attempts to talk Joey down so he’d be somewhat gentler. That had been fun. As of late, there had been nothing of the sort: Grant was utterly resigned to letting Joey have his way. It was about as much fun as fucking a mannequin. A mannequin that was invariably crying and in pain by the time you were done, and who you had to see the next day at work, trying to hide the damage you’ve caused them- something that added nothing to the mood. Joey had kept doing this in hopes that that was temporary and soon he’d be having fun like they were in the beginning, but he was losing hope in that, too. Joey was never going to use anyone else like this again, now that he knew how quickly it became so joyless.

But that wasn’t Joey’s intention today. “Hey. Get up. I’m not here for that,” he said in a very gentle tone of voice.

Grant obeyed. Joey must have been there for work-related reasons.

As soon as Grant was up and dressed, Joey took his hand in both of his. “I know a lot has happened between us, and I'm sorry if I ever made you think you deserved any of that. You didn’t. I was having trouble coming to terms with my feelings for you, and I took it out on you in the worst way possible. What would you say if we try and have something genuine, and I start treating you like a human being? How would you like that?”

That was the Joey Grant had known in the beginning- the charming, gentle man with the gorgeous blue eyes that he’d fallen in lust with.

He would have had an easier time seducing a brick.

Still, no matter what, Grant only had to get through this final encounter and he was free. If this was a trick, he’d endure it. If Joey was serious (as laughable as the thought was), all the better- Grant could do with one less instance of rape.

“I- sure, Joey. I forgive you. You won’t hurt me anymore?”

Joey smiled gently. “Never again. I promise. But I also nee to trust you. Everything I told you- did you tell anyone else?”

“No. Not a word.”

“Oh? Toby told me that he knows about us.”

“Yes... he knows that something is going on and has a vague sense that it isn’t good. But nothing about what you’ve told me.”

“And Norman? He seems suspicious of me lately.” Cracks were showing in Joey’s gentle facade.

Grant carefully held Joey’s gaze. “I never spoke a word to him. He is rather perceptive- maybe he picked it up somehow. It could be from something as small as my reaction to your name.”

Joey paused a moment. “Okay.” He seemed almost disappointed. “I have a surprise for you. Come on. And let’s keep holding hands.”

“Out where people can see us?”

“Let them. If they hassle us, I’ll fire them.”

“Joey, I don’t want a reputation as a homosexual. I want people to be able to trust me, and my family to respect me. That’s more important to me than this.”

“Shh... I know a lot of people who won’t care. My family doesn’t. You shouldn’t have to live a lie for anyone.” Grant dropped the subject. With the pictures coming out the next day, bringing it up at all had been rather pointless.

Joey led the way towards the elevator. They passed by Thomas, who looked at them with pity and concern before returning his attention to the ink pipe he was putting in. Alarm bells rang in Grant’s head. Joey had always talked about Thomas as one of the complicit few. He muttered something about having a meeting and tried to pull away, but Joey tightened his grip on his hand. They were fifteen feet away from the elevator and Joey had to pull Grant every inch of it, dragging him with both hands as Thomas watched, wishing he could intervene. Joey finally pulled him in, shut the bars, and hit the button for the very basement.

That was the final nail in the coffin. In all of Joey’s rambling sessions, he’d always talked about the basement. That was where all of his rituals happened. All of what Joey had said about the Satanic rituals had been the truth. The passing floors soon gave way to metal walls as the elevator descended. The basement had to be a long way down. Joey finally let go of Grant’s hand and lunged at him. In a split second, Grant had landed a hook punch to Joey’s jaw, knocking him off balance. Joey took a second lunge and this time Grant wasn’t fast enough to stop him. Joey pounded Grant’s head against the metal wall repeatedly. It was impossible to get out of Joey’s grip- he was just too much bigger and stronger. A bump in the elevator ride forced Joey’s grip off of him long enough for him to pull away. Joey lunged for him again, but Grant got out of his way, and Joey rammed headfirst into the metal wall. Grant got in quickly with another punch to the jaw. Joey collapsed, probably primarily from the wall.

The elevator hit the ground, but there was still nowhere to run, given that the only exit was a locked metal door. For a moment, Grant just stood there, catching his breath and attempting to come down from panic. It occurred to him that Joey could wake up at any second. Praying for thirty seconds’ time, Grant rifled through Joey’s pockets for keys- if he could find them and unlock the door, and if he was physically capable of dragging Joey’s body in there so he could leave it there and make it out, and if Joey didn’t wake up-

Joey’s grip tightened around Grant’s ankle. Joey got up, and pulled Grant to the ground. The last thing Grant heard before going unconscious was the sound of his skull cracking before from Joey slamming it into one of the elevator’s metal bars.

Joey panted from the exertion and adrenaline. This could only have been described as a disaster, he thought as he unlocked and opened the door, picked up Grant’s body, and carefully locked it into one of the iron cages he’d used to house ink creatures. Then, he retired to another room within the basement- his private sanctuary. He needed to put on some music and cool down. Joey would take care of Grant later- he hadn’t felt a pulse or breathing, but he hadn’t checked. For now it didn’t matter, since he’d never done a sacrifice during the day and he wasn’t about to start now, as there was no sink in the basement with which to wash off the blood. That had been a major oversight of his. But, he’d been full of oversights, lately- like attempting to wrestle Grant into submission in a moving elevator. He never thought that such a small man would put up such a fight. And then there was Norman to contend with- surely Grant’s disappearance would only raise his already dangerous levels of suspicion. How the hell was he going to kill someone so strong and clever? And that was assuming that Grant hadn’t been lied about no one else knowing. Being a murderer was stressful.

It times like these that Joey really wished he still had Henry. Someone to tell him no, and give him advice like “maybe put a sink in the basement so you can wash off the blood of your sacrifices.” Someone who wanted to listen, wanted to be near him, wanted his body, instead of having that forced upon him. Joey thought that having complete control over a person would be fulfilling, but in effect it had only left him feeling emptier than ever. That was the saddest part, wasn’t it? All this trouble for something so worthless.

[staticscreenwriting]

All you have to be is here - Part 9

Synopsis: Billy has fucked up and has to do 60 days of community service at a home for troubled kids and youth. Working with the kids there makes him learn a lot about himself. Also there’s a girl there his age who has a phenomenal smile and who is way too nice to him.

I guess I should mention there’s a lot of angst in this. Talk of substance abuse later on, physical abuse, emotional abuse. All that kind of gnarly real life stuff. It deals with kids and teens struggling with a a shitty family life so be aware of that.

Part 9 of ?

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8

Please help a girl out by reblogging. Thank you ♥

Attention ! If you wanna be tagged pls send me a message or an ask it’s easier and faster for me than going through the tags of each part every time. Thank you :)

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

I never really ever felt so adored before Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable Don’t have to hide, don’t have to fear All you have to be is here Never really ever felt so adored before And I said I wanna feel like this forever Even if forever’s just for now We’re on fire, let us burn As the outside world, it turns We are here and alive In our corner of time Forevermore

The hardwood floor feels cold against Billy’s bare feet as he trudges out of the bedroom and towards (Y/N)’s kitchen in search for a coffee and a cigarette. Luke the cat is purring as he spots him, rubbing on his legs in hope for some food. 

Billy never particularly liked cats but this one has grown on him. He’s fat and lazy and blissfully unbothered by everything. He really really likes this cat. 

Starting the coffee machine, Billy reaches out for a mug and has to suppress a groan as his eye register just which one he’s grabbed. It’s black and shiny and there’s a picture of a much younger (Y/N) printed on it. She’s maybe 3 or 4 years in this picture, a poster child for innocence but her smile is the same one he’s grown so fond of. It’s what’s written beneath the photo that makes his heart drop. 

“ Happy father’s day to the best dad in the world. “ How fucking ironic.

Unconsciously, Billy’s eyes wander towards the doorway leading to the living room. His hands grip the mug a little tighter as he feels the anger start to bubble up again. 

There’s a man on this couch, he’s banged up and yet he’s sleeping safe and sound. That man shouldn’t be there, he gave up the right to be there years ago. There’s a man there that broke (Y/N) heart in a million little pieces and judging by the tears that stained her cheeks last night, he continues to do so to this day.

Maybe, Billy thinks, he’s projecting his own frustrations and pain and suffering onto this situation. Maybe this one can have a happy ending for (Y/N) and her dad. Though life has never really given Billy a reason to believe happy endings do exist outside of fairy tales. This can only be a crash and burn situation waiting to happen.

For the first time in his life, he hopes he’s wrong. He wants so desperately to see (Y/N) succeed, to see her happy. 

Luke nudges against Billy’s ankle, effectively softening the mood a little. 

“ Alright, amigo. I’ll give you some food. Calm down. “ 

Maneuvering his way around the kitchen and preparing the food for Luke, it all feels weirdly domestic. He can move around freely, no fears of making any wrong moves of messing anything up. This is what home feels like. What his own home should feel like. What it never does.

“ You talking to the cat ? “ 

A pair of eyes look back at Billy, that looks so familiar. They’re (Y/N)’s eyes. Identical and yet they couldn’t be more different. There’s no warmth in these eyes, no softness. No love.

The man’s eyes are cold and tired and empty. 

“ Yeah, so what ? “

“ No I — I wasn’t judging. Just — look kid I was just trying to start a conversation. “ 

“ Not a kid. “ 

There’s a shift in the air, a shift in Billy’s mood too. Suddenly he’s on high alert, extremely conscious of his surroundings, of the man’s moves. It’s a side effect of living with a dad who loves to smack you around. You get highly aware of everything around you. The good and the bad. And it’s scary. Like a constant shadow following you, ready to swallow you whole if you let your guard down for long enough.

(Y/N)’s dad lets out a long sigh then leans against the kitchen island. He looks worse for wear. Tired. Exhausted. The skin around his eye is colored in hues of red and blue and purple and it’s swollen almost shut. There’s dried blood around his nose and the cut above his eyebrow looks painful even from afar. 

Billy knows he shouldn’t, knows this is probably earning him a ton of bad karma points, but there’s a tiny part in him that take a sick satisfaction in this man’s misery. No matter how much his physical wounds hurt, they won’t ever come close to the emotional anguish he’s willingly put his own daughter through. And for that, Billy thinks, he deserves to suffer.

If anyone knows how it feels, it’s Billy. He’s been through it all, the physical and the emotional pain and if he was ever asked to chose, he’d take the hits over the heartbreak anytime. Those heal at least. 

“ I understand that you don’t like me a whole bunch. I — I deserve it, probably. “ the guy says, a slight southern accent ringing through his words.

A scoff falls from Billy’s lips “ probably. “ 

“ What do you want me to do ? I’m trying here, ya know. “ 

Billy turns around, pours himself another mug of coffee, black. Strong. Not because he wants it, one cup is usually enough for him in the morning, but because if he doesn’t take a minute to cool down the anger and frustration is gonna get the best of him and he’s gonna reach over the kitchen island and give this dude another black eye.

“ She didn’t have to take care a me last night but she did. I appreciate that, I do. I know she’s a good girl. “

“ You don’t know shit, man. “ 

“ And you do ? “

“ I was the one holding her when she cried for hours the last time you showed up, drunk off your ass. I know that, no matter how much shit you put her through, she still loves you and cares about you way more than you deserve. “

“ What I put her through ? “ 

“ Yeah. What you put her through when she was just a fucking kid. Smacking around her mom like it was nothing? Having (Y/N) witness all of it ? That shit is unforgivable in my book. If it was on me, I would’ve left you there last night. I wouldn’t have given you a second look. Fortunately for the both of us, she isn’t like that. She’s warm and soft and loving and she gives way more than she ever asks for. “ 

Billy moves closer to the guy, looks him straight in the eye. God how he wishes he could have the guts to say these things to his own father. Stand up to him. To put down his foot and make it clear that enough is enough.

Fact is, he doesn’t have it in him. Not now not yet.

But this isn’t Neil. It’s not his own abuser. Not his own demons he’s fighting here.

It’s (Y/N) and for her it’s worth the fight. For her it’s worth being brave.

“ Listen to me, “ he says and lowers his voice so tremendously it almost resembles a growl “ she once told me that people don’t need to earn love, that it’s not something one has to be deserving of. I don’t think that’s true all of the time. I think you need to do a whole lot to earn back her love and even then you won’t be deserving of it. Not after what you did. You’ll never be good enough for her. Never. She’ll love you anyway. That’s the world she’s living in. A good one. Where people forgive. I don’t share that sentiment. I don’t forgive. So if you hurt her again, I will hurt you. That black eye ? You’re going to wish for it back if I get my hands on you. I’ve done worse things to people and back then my only reason was boredom. This girl ? I love her. I’m sure you can imagine how much that feeling fuels my anger if someone were to hurt her. Are we clear ? “ he asks and pats the man on the shoulder. 

“ Are you threatening me ? “ 

“ No. I’m just making sure you know the stakes. “ 

Billy can already see this ending badly. It’s like a sixth sense for misery. He hopes, for (Y/N) sake, that he’s wrong.

The odds tell him he’s not.

“ She’s always a woman to me “ by Billy Joel is softly playing from the vinyl player in the corner of the recreation room. (Y/N) sits by a table helping one of the younger girls draw a bunch of flowers with crayons in all colors of the rainbow.

Billy never particularly liked the song until he heard (Y/N) sing along to it one day in her kitchen. She was wearing his shirt and her hair was piled on top of her head and there was still a faint imprint of her pillow visible on her cheek. She’s never looked more gorgeous than in that moment. 

It became one of his favorite songs then. He thinks she knows. Sometimes she hums it when they sit on her couch and she softly plays with his hair. Things don’t feel so bad then. 

As if she can sense his thoughts, (Y/N) lifts her eyes off the drawing and finds his across the room. Her lips are pulled into a tiny smile, it’s hardly there but it’s enough for Billy to notice. For him to understand. 

“ She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes “ Billy thinks the guy might be onto something there.

This is the first time she’s smiled since everything with her dad happened. Her dad, who’s still waiting at her place for them to return. She’s offered him to stay for a while, “just to get back on your feet”. It makes Billy uncomfortable, so fucking uncomfortable. He can already see her making up scenarios in her head, of a future that involves her dad. A happy one where the past is the past and wounds and magically healed. He loves her unwavering positivity. He loves that she believes in a world where good things happen to good people. 

He also knows that this makes her vulnerable though. If things don’t go the way she imagines them to go now, and they won’t, it’s gonna hit her twice as hard. He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to stomach seeing her go through that hurt. If only he could take it from her. He’d do it. In a heartbeat. 

“ You’re doing it wrong “ a tiny voice speaks up from beside him. Jack is 6, he’s got shaggy blond hair and blue eyes and a bright smile missing a few milk teeth already. Jack, like (Y/N), believes in a world where ordinary things are magical and love if free and good things happen even though the world has done nothing but prove him wrong. Jack reminds Billy entirely too much of another little boy with blond hair and blue eyes and a perfect little world.

That boy is gone now. Buried underneath a thousand layers of hurt and bitterness and cruel words from a person that’s supposed to love him. Billy hopes things can turn out different for Jack.

“ What do you mean, I’m doing it wrong ? I’m literally just coloring in this fu — this picture. “ 

If someone had told him a few weeks ago that he’d sit in a room with a bunch of kids and his — his girl, coloring in pictures and listening to cheesy pop love songs, he would’ve told the person they’re insane. It’s his new normal though, as normal as life can be for him anyway. And even though he will never admit this to anyone, not even (Y/N), he might even enjoy these moments a little. Problems seem to be non existent for the for the time being. The air feels lighter. The mood feel softer. It gets easier to breathe, even if it’s just for an hour.

It’s, and he’s not going to repeat this, it’s kinda fun. 

“ Yeah but you made the dinosaur green. It’s not. It’s supposed to be brown. “ Jack speaks up again, pointing his small finger towards Billy’s green T-rex drawing.

“ How’d you know ? You ever seen a T-rex ? “ 

“ Uh-huh. “ Jack nods “ my mom took me to a museum once when we visited grandma in New York City. They had lots of pictures and postcards. Maybe if mom — if she — maybe I can go again and bring you one. “ 

Billy doesn’t know this boy’s story but it’s clear to him that something about his mom ain’t the way it’s supposed to be. He knows Jack stays here permanently so whatever it is, it can’t be good.

“ See, I’ve never seen a T-rex so I wouldn’t know about the color. I’d appreciate that postcard. “ 

Jack nods but the childlike wonder, the excitement, is gone. He’s more timid now. Almost sad.

“ I don’t think my mommy is gonna come get me anytime soon. But if she does and we go to New York I promise to bring you one. You’re my friend now. “ 

God this kid is trying to kill him, huh ? 

“ Mommy hasn’t visited since when it was snowing outside. I miss her sometimes. “ 

Yep, Billy’s heart was officially shattered into a million little pieces laid out on the table in front of him, right above the drawing of the (wrongfully) green colored dino.

“ I miss my mom too. “ 

It’s the first time he’s told anyone this is — ever. Sometimes he likes to make himself believe that he doesn’t miss her anymore. That she effectively lost the right of being missed when she chose to leave. That’s a lie though. Absolute bullshit.

If anyone needs to hear the truth right now, it’s this little boy. And the little boy inside Billy that’s still missing his mom an awful lot, no matter how much grown-up bitter Billy likes to deny it.

“ Where is she ? “ Jack asks with that unbothered childlike curiosity.

“ She uh — I don’t know for sure but I think she’s back home in California. “ 

“ Was she not ready to be a mommy ? Mine wasn’t. “ 

“ I — I don’t know, Jack. “ 

“ When I last saw my mommy she hugged me really tight. And she gave me a teddy bear and she told me that she loves me very much but that she’s sad and sad people can’t be good mommys so she’s going away to become happy again and when she’s not sad anymore she’ll come back and we can be happy together. Maybe your mommy was sad too“ 

Billy has to swallow back a knot forming in his throat. Has to keep the tears at bay. This is not place to cry, Billy. Not in public, Billy. Never in public, Billy.

“ Maybe. “ 

“ Well I hope she is happy again soon so you can be happy with her. “ 

Wherever she is, Billy too hopes she’s happy. 

Maybe Jack has a point, maybe one day they can be happy together. Maybe when he isn't sad anymore. He hopes she’s there already waiting for him.

“ I’m not saying you shouldn’t let him stay. I’m just not okay with you being alone with him “ 

“ He’s my dad, Billy. “ 

“ Exactly. “ 

One word conveys all he feels on that subject. Their track record is just too fucked up to ever trust someone just because they’re supposed to be “family”. It just doesn’t mean shit. 

Billy’s holding onto a bag of grocery they have picked up, as (Y/N) opens the door to her place. She’s told Billy it’s okay for him to go home though there’s no way in hell he’s gonna leave her alone with this dude. And home and “home” anyway.

“ I know what he did was — “ she doesn’t finish the sentence though, as her eyes fall onto the state of her apartment.

Every drawer seems to have been pulled opened and ransacked, there’s cutlery on the floor and not a single cupboard door is closed. The pillows that used to be neatly placed on the couch are thrown everywhere.

“ Dad ? “ 

And there it is. The metaphorical bomb Billy knew was gonna come but wished so hard it wouldn’t. 

His eyes wander around the room before they land on a piece of paper on the kitchen island. He picks it up and reads the first few words before knowing exactly what it is. The heartbreak he so desperately wanted to safe her from, all written down neatly in blue ink on white paper.

“ Some of my money is gone, Billy “ (Y/N) says as she hurries out of the bedroom, an empty old can of Folgers coffee in hand. 

“ You should read this “ is all he says as he holds out the letter to her. What does one say in a situation like that ? Hey babe, here’s some heartbreak for ya ?! 

She carefully takes it from his hands and lets her eyes move across the page. He can see clear as day what the letter says, doesn’t even have to read it himself. It’s all there in her eyes. In the way the warmth slowly vanished and is replaced by a cold, a sadness, utter despair. 

He warned him. He fucking warned him not go break her. Not again. And what does he do ? Exactly that.

“ Billy ? “ she says, a sniffle evident in her voice.

“ Yeah ? “ 

“ What did you say to him ? “ 

“ What did I say to him ? “ 

“ Uh-huh. “ 

Why does it matter, he thinks. The guy is gone. Up and left as he always assumed he would.

“ He says in this letter that you talked to him so what the fuck did you say ? “ 

The fury her voice holds, he’s never seen in her before. It’s terrifying. 

“ I told him not to hurt you again. Told him he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness. “ 

“ That’s not on you to decide “ she yells. It’s the first time he’s heard her yell like this. With pain in her voice with — disappointment. 

“ I was trying to help “ 

“ Well stop ! “ 

“ I can’t. I love you and I know what guys like him are like. I — “ 

“ You don’t know anything “ she’s crying now and as much as he wants to hold her, he also feels the anger bubble up again. There’ve been many moment where Billy was in the wrong, where he deserved to be yelled at. Not this time. He did nothing wrong this time. Hearing her say these things is not only shitty, it also hurt. A whole fucking lot.

“ I know what shitty dads are like. They don’t give a shit, (Y/N) “.

 “ Maybe yours doesn’t. But my dad is not Neil. Maybe he can change. Maybe he can love me again. Unlike yours, mine at least he used to love me. “ 

The anger is gone. The sadness is gone. Everything he’s felt up to that moment is just gone and he’s left feeling completely numb as those words leave her lips.

He can see the realisation in her eyes of what she just said. 

“ Billy I — “ 

“ Fuck you, (Y/N) “ 

She’s following him out of the apartment and down the corridor, down the stairs, out of the building and into the parking lot. And she’s crying. Crying up a goddamn storm.

Billy can’t bring himself to care. Not right then. Not after what she just said to him.

“ Billy please. “ 

“ You know what (Y/N), “ now it’s his time to yell, “ maybe my dad doesn’t love me but at least I am honest enough with myself to accept that fact. At least I don’t pretend like my life is all rainbows and butterflies and sappy love songs. I know he doesn’t love me and I accept how fucked up and shitty it is. At least I don’t live in a fantasy world where everything fine and dandy and problems are magically fixed by singing kumbaya and drawing my feelings. “ 

As he gets in the car and speeds off, leaving her alone in the dark, his thoughts twist and tangle in all kinds of ways. None of them clear. All of them a blurred mess. 

He only notices the tears running down his cheeks as he arrives home and gets out of the car, wiping them away so that Neil won’t see them. He fears he’ll be able to tell anyway.

With heavy steps Billy walks up to the house then tries to turn the key as quietly as possible. If ever he believed in a higher power, Billy prays that now is the time they chose to be kind to him and make sure Neil doesn’t catch him coming home late. 

But as he stated before, life’s hardly ever been kind to him and tonight is no exception.

“ Where’ve you been ? “ Neil asks as he leans against the door leading into Billy’s room.

“ Work. “ 

“ Not until now you haven’t “.

“ A friend’s “.

Neil raises his eyebrow, for a moment contemplating his next step. Usually Billy would care, about a possible beating, about whatever nasty words Neil is about to spit at him. Though tonight he doesn’t give a shit. Whatever he does, whatever he says, it won’t hurt nearly as much as (Y/N)’s words just did.

“ Uh-huh and what got you all wheepy ? “ 

“ I doesn’t matter “ he murmures and turns towards his room, effectively being stopped by Neil’s arm reaching out and blocking the way. 

“ What was that ? “ 

“ I said It doesn’t matter “ 

For a moment the two just stare at each other, matching fury in their eyes. Silently challenging each other to make the next step.

Neil grabs Billy’s jaw in between his fingers and squeezes just a little. Just hard enough to hurt but not leave a mark or cause serious damage.

“ Thin ice, Billy. Thin fucking ice. “ 

With that he lets go and moves towards the kitchen.

Billy hurries into his room, slams the door and slumps down on the floor besides his bed. His head drops down to rest on his knees and another round of hot salty tears roll down his cheeks.

If this way any other situation he’d be cuddled up on (Y/N)’s couch, telling her about the things that upset him and she’d tell him that she understands and that things can only get better from here on out and then she’d kiss him and put his heart back together little by little. 

But what if the only one that can fix your heart, is the one that destroyed it in the first place ? Not broke. Destroyed.

Billy reaches up towards the phone resting on his bedside table and pulls it down towards him. His fingers move across the buttons in an almost trance like state. He knows the number by heart. Has dialed it so many times. So many times.

It rings. Once. Twice. Three Times.

He wonders if she even picks up.

“ Hello ? “ 

If only hearing her voice could make things right. Could fix him in one way or another. If only hearing her voice could make him feel like home the way it used to do. If only hearing her voice was enough.

“ Hello ? “ she asks again.

Billy clears his voice then takes a long breath, bracing himself for what’s about to come and then. Then he answers.

“ Hi, mom. It’s me. Billy. “ 

_______________________

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