#her fingers are white and numb rn

[elzore-da-great]

Cordette and Liam (@melodythebunny 's oc) do NOT like the cold.

[s-4pphics]

rip, halloweekend! (e.w.)

hi😳 it’s my last week as a student and i felt sad so i wrote fratadjacent!ellie lol. literally just wanted to reminisce on party hookups since they’re over for me </3 

wc;cw: 3.4k mmm, MDNI!!, NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL IM VERY BUSY LOL, all ocs r black coded y’all see it, mentions of (faux)blood and vomit like once, alcohol weed it’s a party duh, 21 and tee grizzley promo like pay me, girls kissing🤭, dubcon(every1 is faded af lol), ellie’s sleazy, mentions of orgies and anal? uh oh, ellie’s so cocky <3, dirty talk, fingering, eating out no mcdonalds, spanking ass and tits lol, okie yeah dassit <3 

everyone say thank u to the loml @fandomshitpostingqueen 4 the title :3

Your school always turned up and out for Halloween. 

You and your friends had been complaining about how trash the parties have been for months, but now the streets are littered with people dressed as bare as possible in the freezing cold. They were all shotgunning beers in the middle of the street, blasting trap music through their portable speakers, throwing up everywhere. 

And you were so excited! This was going to be fun. 

You never particularly liked going to frat parties: their houses were never clean, it was always boiling hot in the basement, and the cops almost always showed up to shut the entire place down (only for another party to blow up in the early hours in the morning, and they shut them down, too! Fuckers!). But after your first ever mind-numbing, toe-curling, drunken fuck with… her at the Alpha Sigma Phi house in September last year, you hardly ever stepped foot in clubs again. 

You two weren’t super close even though you fucked on and off, but you were friends with her housemate, Riley, so whenever she invited you over, you would discreetly watch Ellie silently making cereal—high out of her mind—in only her sports bra and gray sweats. You hadn’t seen her since the start of the semester, when she’d dropped off your wobbly, highly intoxicated roommate with after she’d snapped you a hey. ur roomie drank alooottt and is really fucked up rn imma drop her off leave the door unlocked pls lol. 

It was a mystery how they got past your building's security since your roommate could barely hold up her I.D. according to Ellie, but you didn’t press since she seemed in a rush to get back to the party she was at. She quickly laid your friend in her bed before throwing you a quick see ya! before fleeing out the door. You didn’t even have a chance to properly look at her before your own door slammed in your face. 

And now here you are, standing in the frat entry line freezing your ass off in your slutty, glittery angel costume with a cheap, but feathered halo atop your head. Your dress barely passed your thighs, and your white, lace-up heels were getting scuffed on the concrete. You didn’t even want to be an angel, but your friends forced you to match with them with their demands of Were gonna be Charlie’s Angels, bitch I’m not playing!, to which you’d argue, they weren’t actually angels, clown! But after three days of consistent glares and pleading from your googly-eyed group, you gave in. 

“Bro, I’m so fuckin’ excited. I need more shots, I need more shots! —“

“Can you shut the fuck up, you sound crazy,” your good friend, Cleo said to your… feening friend, Evelyn. A gust of Fall wind blew past all of you, and you shivered in unison. 

“It’s too fucking cold for this shit! If y’all would’ve let me down that Svedka bottle, I would be warm as fuck right now!” Evelyn pressed at both of you between chattering teeth. 

“Bitch, you almost peed in these people's kitchen sink the last time you did some stupid shit like that! In front of everyone!” Cleo scolded with a glare, and Evelyn scoffed before turning away to look at the moving line. Your friend then turned her attention to you. 

“You tryna see your girlfriend?” Cleo said to you with a smirk while she hit her dab, and you rolled your eyes so hard, they almost fell out. 

“She’s not my fuckin’ girlfriend, shut up,” you tried to say as convincingly as possible. They both snorted at your attempts, clearly in denial. 

Your friends always made it sound like you were in love with Ellie when she was brought up. You could admit to having a crush on her, sure, but you weren’t always craving her attention. You let her come and go as she pleased, and you did the same. 

Your thoughts were cut off by some drunk, obnoxious asshole screaming at the two of you to pull out your school I.Ds. You all did, and the door immediately pulled open, and you were hit in the face with the bass from the speakers. You all entered, hand in hand, and watched people dance in masks, people making out, people twerking on the counter. And you all were finally warm. 

You moved through the packed, LED lit house to where everyone was dancing, and you and your friends made a small circle in the middle of the crowded floor. Evelyn managed to snag an unopened bottle of Tito’s from the counter and you, and Cleo stared in shock as she downed three large gulps like it was water. You snatched the bottle from her before she could get any more down, only to take three large sips of your own, before turning to Cleo, ushering her to lean her head back so you could pour some in her mouth. 

You felt lighter. 

Thirty minutes passed, and Cleo was throwing it back on you, and you were throwing it back on Evelyn as she clumsily thrusted her hips into your ass, bottle in hand. Your halo was tipping, you were sweating out your press, and your glittery liner was smudging, but you couldn’t give a fuck. 21 was on, and nothing else mattered. 

Until Evelyn stopped, pulling you up to her chest and sloppily whispered that she had to pee. You shook your head as you giggled, pulling a very high Cleo up to guide her to the bathroom by her iced-out wrist.

The line for the bathroom was so fucking long. What the fuck. 

But you and your friends were finally next. Evelyn was leaning back against the wall as she squeezed her legs together, whining out quiet dontpeedontpeedontpee’s to herself with her eyes shut. You shook your head at her. 

However, you all immediately stiffened when you heard a desired squeal of fuck yes, like that! coming from the bathroom. That’s why y’all were standing here for so fucking long?! So somebody could get their nut?! 

Cleo shook her head with a I know you fuckin’ lying before banging her fist on the door. “Bro, hurry the fuck up! We don’t have time for this shit!”

“Hold the fuck on, damn!” and your back straightened at the voice, eyebrows furrowing. Ohh, shit oh fuck! —

And the door swung open, revealing a very flushed Ellie, lips glistening and eyes tinted pink with a black cloak on, Scream mask in hand. She even had fake blood smeared on her face. And a girl in a devil costume hopping off the counter, adjusting the horns on her head. 

You made eye contact with Ellie, and she froze, only to quirk her slit brow at you, slowly gazing at your attire from top to bottom before reconnecting your eyes. You shivered, and she smirked. 

The demon girl snatched Ellie’s wrist to lead her out of the bathroom as Evelyn rushed in, barely shutting the door behind her. You held Ellie’s searing contact as she trailed behind the girl, nodding her head in greeting as she brushed past you, leaving the hallway. You turned towards Cleo, who’d been barricading the door for Evelyn, shaking her head at you with a knowing grin. You let out a quiet fuck you as she busted out laughing. 

Sometime in the night, you all scurried back to the dance for when First Day Out blasted through the speakers. You have zero recollection of what happened after you ran towards the packed dance floor(all your liquor body-slammed you at once!), but your tongue was shoved in Cleo’s mouth as she grinded on Evelyn, holding her by her thigh to pull her closer. She pulled away, licking your bottom lip as you both smiled before your hazy gaze traveled behind Evelyn, locking with the ones you were conflicted about seeing tonight. 

Ellie was smoking by herself, just watching you. You held her stare as you wrapped your arms around Cleo, drunkenly waving your hand to lure her over. She smirked around her blunt before shrugging, shaking her head no. You sent her a pout. 

“Ellie’s over there,” you bent down to talk in Cleo’s ear. 

She hummed in acknowledgment against your neck, “We’ll be alright. Go see her.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, I got her,” She said in reference to a very drunk Evelyn screaming out YOU KNOW I BROUGHT MY KNIFE!

“Text me if anything happens, okay?” You demanded, and she nodded before encouragingly patting your ass. 

You unwrapped yourself from your friend, squeezing through the crowd until you reached a very… calm Ellie. She was leaning back with her head propped up against the wall, doing tricks with every exhale of smoke. You leaned up next to her, shoulder to shoulder. 

Neither of you said anything, but she held her blunt up to your face. You accepted, parting your lips to inhale the smoke as you watched the lit tip shine orange. You pulled away, leaving the remnants of your gloss behind, and breathed in before exhaling away from her. 

You watched as she pulled her phone out, slowly typing something out with one hand as she ripped from the blunt again. 

You felt your phone vibrate in your bra. 

You looked at her suspiciously before pulling it out, unlocking it to open the snap from Ellie.

e: cum upstairs? 

y: 😐

You turned to her and watched her smile before typing. You looked back down at your phone. 

e: lemme give u some imsorry head :(

y: 😐

e: pleek 

y: where

e: upstairs duh 

e: jesses gone 4 the weekend so ye

e: fuckin u in his room lol 

… Who the fuck is Jesse?

You didn’t get an opportunity to respond before you felt her grab your wrist, pulling you into the crowd. You couldn’t help but look up at her frame, loose strands of her ponytail falling out, her dangly earrings, her fucking shoulders, her neck moving every time she looked back to check on you. She looked so fucking good, fuck—

You felt a smack on your ass, and before you could turn to beat the fuck out of whoever it was, you caught your friends giggling at you. Cleo suddenly made her O-face as Evelyn pretended to hit it from the back before they started laughing at you again. You stared blankly at them. 

“Okay?” You heard Ellie say in your ear, lips brushing against yours. You only nodded before turning back to face her. 

You watched as she looked behind you before smiling and looking back down at you with a headshake. She turned and led you towards the staircase. 

She pulled open a door—Jesse’s, you guess— at the end of the hall. It was a bit messy, but you ignored it as she closed the door behind you. 

“Where’s Riley? I haven’t seen her at all,” you said as she looked at you. 

“Dunno.” She replied simply, ripping from her roach. 

“…You got bored quick,” You hoped she knew what you meant. 

“Mhm,” she said as she exhaled before stubbing it out on the dresser. 

And then silence. 

This is awkward. You hoped she would be ripping your halo off by now.  

“You look cute.” 

“You don’t,” you replied sharply. Fuck, yes she does, she always does. 

She snickered at you before kicking her chucks off, “That girl thought I did.” 

You’re going to strangle her. 

“Fuck you.” 

“You’re gonna,” she said as she stepped closer. 

“You’re a slut.” 

“I am,” Another step. She said with a slimy grin. “The dirtiest.” 

You hated how wet that made you. 

“Your friends are funny,” She said with another step, finally in your space as she spoke quietly. “And they’re hot.” 

“I know they are.” 

“Orgy?” She asked with a bright smile.

“Ellie, are we fucking or not? M’feet hurt,” you slurred out, rolling your eyes. 

“You look so good right now,” she said more to herself than to you, it seemed. She’d been so quiet, tone filled with awe. Your face ran hot. 

“Wanna kiss,” She said as she leaned forward. 

You placed a hand on her chest. “‘M not about to kiss you, you were just giving somebody head, like, an hour ago.” 

“So?” She said, grinning wider. 

“The fuck d’you mean so? That’s gross, Ellie.” you said with an agitated tone. 

“Wanna bend you over his dresser,” She said silkily, and it made you clench tight. “Missed you, y’know?” 

You didn’t reply as you looked at her skeptically. She didn’t care, grabbing you by your hips to pull you closer, bodies now flush against each other. She bent down to plant soft kisses on your neck. You would’ve complained, but her mouth felt so good, fuck.

“You wet enough?” She whispered out against your throat before sucking on the wet spot. You threw your arms around her neck, your knees buckling. 

“Gettin’ there, keep kissing me like that,” you breathed out in a shaky whisper. You felt her smile against you before licking over where she sucked. 

You felt her hands travel down to your ass, as she grabbed both cheeks tightly in both hands. You let out a breathy moan at her grip before you felt her slap a cheek, and then the other. 

“Take this shit off,” she whispered out as she hiked your dress over your hips. You pulled it over your head, tossing it near the bed along with your halo. 

“Fuck you, I spent time making this,” you said with a pout as she laughed softly. She grabbed your bare tits in her hands before sucking a nipple into her mouth. You moaned as you peered down to watch her flick it. 

She switched sides, sucking the hardened bud into her mouth while she hummed quietly. Your hips pressed against her.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits,” She whispered against your breast. “Gonna fuck ‘em one day, I swear to god.” 

You moaned at her promise as you felt her slap your ass again before whispering a get over there, nodding towards the dresser. You scurried over as quickly as your heeled feet could manage, tits bouncing with every step. You leaned back against it with your hands propped up behind you as you watched her pull your halo from your discarded fabric. 

“Gotta keep this on,” she said as she walked over, dangling it between two fingers. “For… affect, and whatnot.” 

“Right.” 

“Mhm,” she said as she carefully placed it on your head. “Turn around.” 

You listened without question, and you were faced with your own reflection. Your wet nipples, your rising and falling chest, your wet thong. And her darkly looming behind you closely, all bloody and grinning. Another gush of wetness in your underwear. 

“You know what I think?” She said into your ear, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

You hummed out questioningly. 

“We’d make a sexy cam-couple,” She whispered huskily as she licked your ear and you couldn’t stop squirming, pushing back on her as she grinded forward. “I could see it now: ‘slutty Scream murders cute angelic pussy’, we’d get paid so fuckin’ good.” 

“You’re stupid,” you shakily whispered out as she reached around to pull at your nipples. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned back against her, one hand reaching behind you to wrap around her neck while the other dug into her jean-covered thigh. 

She slapped your tits as she messily kissed your neck, sucking more bruises into the skin as she moaned against you. You felt one of her hands disappear from your tits, and before you could move to bring it back, you felt it grab the back of your neck to push you down against the dresser, arms falling in front of you in reflex. Your eyes tore open, and you were met with your sloppy-looking reflection. Lip gloss completely gone, eye-makeup smeared, sweated-out press sticking to your forehead(dammit!), and your halo lopsidedly hanging off your head. 

“Uh huh,” she muttered out as she watched you through the mirror, slowly thrusting her hips forward like she was fucking you and fuck, you wanted to fuck so bad. You hated how you instinctively pushed back on her, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Would make a sexy little pornstar.” 

“Fuck, El, ‘m so wet, c’mon, please! —” 

“Gonna baby, just lemme look at you,” she said back, and you whined, pushing back on her again. You wish she had her dick with her! 

“Make me cum, El, pleeease,” you whined out again, and you felt her slam a hot hand on your ass. You cried out as your cheek seared. 

You felt her slowly pull your panties to the side. You lifted your head to watch her through the mirror: her brows pulled down, her lip between her teeth, and she had the audacity to release a glob of spit on your pussy. You felt a gush of wetness leave you as it trailed down your pussy. 

“You’re so nasty,” you slurred out quietly. 

She reconnected your eyes in the mirror, and she grinned cunningly. You felt her free hand come up to run slow, deep circles on your slippery clit, and you moaned out as your eyes fluttered shut. You dropped your chin on the dresser in relief. 

“Cutest fuckin’ pussy, can tell she missed me,” you clenched tighter gushed wetter at her tone, your pussy screaming missed you so much, daddy! You could tell she noticed when she snickered out a small yeah, you did.

And then you felt her slide a finger in. Your jaw dropped as you gasped wetly, and you hated how she immediately found that spot that makes you scream. Your walls were gripping her finger tight tight tight—

“Fuck, angel, gonna gimme this pussy later?” 

“Fuck yes, ‘s yours!” 

“Yeah? Say it again,” and she dug her finger in deeper. 

“‘S your pussy, daddy, make me cum!” 

She gently pushed another finger in and she grinded them into you, barely pulling out. You hadn’t even noticed that the grip she had on your neck disappeared, her other hand reaching around you to massage your clit. You stayed bent over the dresser so she could hit it deeper, and fuck, she made you feel so good!

Your eyes were glued shut as you breathed and moaned out, but you felt her press kisses all over your ass, biting the cheeks. Your eyes fluttered open as she sat up, slowing down her fucking. She met your eyes to ask, “You ever get your ass fucked?” 

You barely reacted at her bluntness due to your hazy mind, but you shook your head no. She nodded as she pouted. She went back to fingering your cunt. 

“Mmh, you can if you w-wanna, when you take me home later, shit—“

“Who said I was takin’ you home? Hm?” She said and you heard the smirk in her voice. She pressed up against that spot harder as she slid another finger in. 

“Fuuuck!—“ 

“Yeah?” 

“Yes, baby, yesyesyes!—“

You watched her drop to her knees and felt her suck your clit in her mouth and your eyes rolled back and it was about to make you cum—

The sloppy noises of her sucking your pussy and the soppy sounds of her fingers inside you made you hotter, and you felt that burning feeling pulling in your gut.

“El, fuck, baby, I’m gonna— “ 

“C’mon angel, get me wet, want it all over my fuckin’ face— “ 

You couldn’t hear all the nasty shit she was muttering on your pussy as she fucked you through your nut, her lips taking your throbbing clit back in your mouth as she massaged that spot inside you. She was eating you like you were paying her for it and fuck you would if she asked. 

“Taste so fuckin’ good, no one tastes this good, what the fuck,” she said dazed. You knew she was watching your pussy twitch as you rode out the aftershocks on your orgasm, slowly fucking her fingers into you. 

You felt her stand up, slowly rubbing your clit as you calmed down, planting gentle, wet kisses onto your back. 

“You good?” She whispered against you, and you nodded against the desk. 

She chuckled gently, massaging your ass in both her hands before pressing a kiss on a cheek, “C’mon, we’re leaving.” 

You barely could catch your breath, “W’na dance, still.” 

“No, you don’t,” she said, licking up your spine. You felt her press her lips to your ear before she whispered. “Text your friends and tell ‘em we’re leaving. ‘M dropping them off so I can fuck this ass.” 

You shuddered. 

And nodded. 

And she cheesed wide. 

see yall inna week or so lol c:

[meowzfordayz]

to save you is to save the world

Author’s Note: proud of myself for writing this. Not my most polished fanfic, but still a gentle slip into Sanemi’s characterization and tenderness (~sort of). 🤍

to save you is to save the world

Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader

Word Count: ~900

CW: death content, explicit language

Emergency Request: i request for a realistic sanemi comfort interaction with a reader whose around the same age as him, (hes 21 i believe) started late, joining into the slayer corps but proven to be as hard working and having a knack for combat, honing her skills, body etc, (which was effective most of the time, earning her up to tsuguko rank like kanae) but in this particular night, she just couldnt be 100%, let alone 30% or lower, she was at her worse today (hah like me) — giving up wasn't her thing, but yeah... 🥹 everything feels heavy, breathing techniques seem more harder, nerves shaky from lack of sleep and food intake just—yeah (shit is happening to me too rn) i love sanemi and his hardened shell with a soft budding flower inside, its so comforting (or am i just traumatized cough)

~faqs~

“You aren’t taking care of yourself.”

You shrug at Sanemi’s blunt statement, knuckles tremoring as you regrip your katana, beads of sweat threatening to fall from your brow as you inhale slowly. Moonlight glimmers lazily through his white hair, the tucked away clearing as familiar as it is difficult to locate, an ideal place for sparring bordered by tall, tall pines and the layers of many winters past. 

“If you were a demon, then you’d be dead.”

You shrug again, dust stirring as you lunge toward him, a low growl vibrating in your throat when he easily stepsides you, the dreary weight of the bottom of his pommel smacking you square in the back. He snorts while you swallow a dry cough, lavender eyes following your hasty retreat as you rethink your position.

“Seriously, you’re stupid for continuing to fight me.”

“We aren’t fighting,” you mutter, upper lip curling, “I’m fine.”

With a devastatingly simple maneuver, Sanemi’s blade suddenly rests shiny and sharp against the curve of your collarbone, his expression grim as he says plainly, “Wrong.”

You blink, unable to breathe, his warm scent of freshly ground matcha powder softening the starkness of his violence.

“We are fighting,” he insists, withdrawing in a heartbeat, “Training this, training that, this is real,” giving you a withering look, “And you should be dead.”

“Well I’m not,” you deadpan.

And thank fuck for that Sanemi nearly exclaims, jaw clenching at the weariness in your gaze, the memory of your sluggish movements. He knows your chances of beating him are essentially zero, but you usually hold your own at least fractionally better — you usually bite harder than he does, adequately compensating for your lack of skill with your passable company. But currently?

“No thanks to your effort,” he scoffs, gesturing to your katana, limp in your hand, “You’re wasting my time.”

“I’m tired,” you mumble, fingers numb as you flex them around your handle, “Don’t you ever get tired?”

He can tell by your intonation that he wasn’t really meant to hear your final utterance, but he is a Hashira, and you are a mere five feet—give or take—away from him. You should’ve kept that question to yourself.

“I’m tired when I’m awake, I’m exhausted when I’m asleep. I can’t remember feeling alive. But I am. And as sorry as I feel for myself, there are more pressing matters than being tired.”

You flinch, the uptick in his volume and intensity flaring, your eyes closing as a swell of shame fills your lungs. Of course Shinazugawa-san gets tired. How silly of me to-

“Enough.”

“Enough?” you sputter, shame crinkling into indignation as you suck in a tight breath, “We’ve been fighting for less than an hour!”

“And you’re already bringing up tired,” Sanemi interrupts coolly, sheathing his katana, harsh chuckle hurting your ears as he nonchalantly dodges your lame attempt to charge at him once more, “Like I said, you aren’t taking care of yourself.”

“You don’t know me,” you retort, knees aching as you pivot to face him, “I’m tired, not unconscious.”

“Do you want me to knock you out?” he drawls amusedly, “Because it would take precisely no energy on my part to do so.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” you huff, impatience bubbling over, “Why would I want a concussion?”

“So you can get a good night’s rest?” he smirks.

“I’m leaving,” you declare, your katana returning to its scabbard, tongue dripping with sarcasm, “Thanks for sharing your keen observations with me.”

“Before you go, let me share another,” Sanemi’s voice darkens, his intoxicating aroma of green tea, discipline, and coldness stifling the air surrounding you as he circles you, “You aren’t taking care of yourself, and you will die. If you’re tired, then rest. If you’re exhausted, then rest some more. And don’t let me find out that you died due to carelessness or fatigue.”

“We die every day,” your eyes roll, uninspired by his scathing “pep” talk.

“And you’re okay with that?” he challenges, “You’re okay with dying?”

“If it means you’re nicer to me-”

“Shit like that should never come out of your mouth,” he snarls, firm palms hot and crushing as he grasps your shoulders, “If you want me to be nicer to you, then just fucking ask. Don’t fucking die. So fucking dramatic.”

“And you had to shake me to get your point across?” you remark carefully, pulse erratic as delicate flecks of deeper violet in his irises reveal themselves to you, “Shinazugawa-san…”

Sanemi doesn’t have the decency to look embarrassed, pressing himself into you for a fleeting moment, the sensation of his embrace almost false, gone even as it registers. You swallow thickly, head empty, pinpricks of doubt and heat and fear stabbing at your chest.

“I don’t want to see you until you’ve eaten, bathed, and slept through an entire day. In fact, you won’t see me until you ask.”

“Ask what?” you say dumbly, still reeling.

“Until you ask me to take care of you,” he scowls, “And no, beating you up doesn’t count.”

Watching your eyebrows furrow, Sanemi sighs, teeth gritting as he tacks on roughly.

“I notice everything, everyone.”

You glance away, sparing him from further explanation, the slight itch of dust on your skin signaling his departure.

—

If only I could save it all too.

[tohot4u]

Frostbite Au

A bit obsessed with macaque angst rn

it’s a fucking death grip-

but like hear me out (I don’t know if someone has done this before)

Frostbite AU

warmth obsessed macaque because LBD magic coursing through him-with the whole revival thing. Leaving him constantly-cold all the damn time.

Bathing in the sun-Hot baths-even hugs and cuddles if he feels desperate enough He doesn’t notice it till after LBD is defeated,

(and also-

“Frostbite is an injury to the body's tissues caused by exposure to very cold temperatures. The nose, cheeks, ears, fingers, and toes are the extremities most commonly affected. The condition results in a loss of feeling and color in the affected area and can cause permanent tissue damage. In severe cases, frostbite can lead to amputation of the extremity.”(from this website)

If we go down the root where macaque’s fur is white-we can assume it turns black because of the extreme cold.(LBD) )

This behavior might start baffling or worrying Mk or the others. Or them thinking he just warming up to them. (Heheh)

Maybe the mighty monkey king is indifferent at first(just another ruse)

But it’s when macaque scarcely uses his shadows.A source of comfort-that things start to worry him.

maybe-macaque even dislike the heat and some point in the past, or preferred to stay out of suns way(Wukongs way)

Yadda Yadda

come winter

macaque fucking dies(so painfully slowly)

everything catching up to him all at once!(bonus points if macaque and wukong somehow mend the relationship )

the end

(or not?)

——small snippet I wrote—-

His bones shake and rattle. Thin layers of icy frost hovering above his skin. Dainty snowflakes twirling in his midnight fur in painful-twisted beauty.  

Cold nipping at his fingers and ears. A numb feeling coursing through them as he rubbed them together. Frigid bites gnawing rabidly on his soul.

He was alive,in way. Much more than when the Lady bone demon had her claws greedily clasped around him. His fate bound by a chilly whisper of revenge. 

And even in freedom

The bone demons echos still crawled under his skin. Her magic still weaved between his. Hastily lodged in there in a fast and effective way of control. 

It wanes and flickers,he feels her influence slowly draining. He feels his life force blooming,and he knows it will wilt. 

Her magic thaws,melts away.  Yet he knows,as soon as a flicker of its ruminates leak it way into his system. Even a single touch will set him off.

He basks in the sun's warm glow. Six-ears displayed openly,fluttering in the gentle breeze. Body folded in on itself as he curls into a ball on the grass. Tail flickering behind in a rhythm like-pattern. thump thump-a-thump

In his youth he vaguely recalls how comforting his shadows had once been. When the natural shield from light and heat radiated safety. A break from the vibrancy of Sun Wukong and all the fiery glory. 

The dark pool of his shadows are bitterly cold and dark. So desperately lonely and deathly empty,endless,holes of despair. 

Come next winter 

He will not survive. 

Death would greet him with a wicked grin,and a spot carved out just the right shape of his bastard soul.  

This of course,was all Wukongs fault. 

Somehow 

[hyunjilicious]

The safest white - harry styles

Summary: When things with your abusive boyfriend reach a new level, Harry comes to the rescue. 5.7k Warnings: mentions of abuse. I hope you enjoy this! Please tell me what you thought! Your words make my day ❤

Never in your life had you thought you’d end up in a situation like this. Growing up, you got used to the idea of an ideal relationship, and for whatever reason, fell for the glamourized Hollywood look of the downs people went through as they fought for their partner. Real life hit you like a ton of bricks, put a cloth over your mouth and cut your legs from the knees down. Knowing you have to fight for what you want and know is right, even if faced with facts that contradicted your beliefs, you found yourself alone, screaming at nothing in the middle of a sea of darkness. Your own house. And you were screaming internally, because once again, you feared the man you used to call ‘love’. Droplets of sweat tickled your skin as they rushed down your sides, and your hands and feet, although cold, were damp too. You stood in the middle of the bedroom, facing the door. In some twisted way, you knew there was no chance for you to hide, so you stood there, ready take no more hits without hitting back. And harder. After pampering yourself with a pep talk, you ended up feeling quite confident. Confident that you’d get the fuck out of there with your head held fucking high, but it was a confidence that dissipated once the sound of your own phone ringing reached your ears. “Fuck” you mumbled to yourself, after you jumped out of fright. “No, no, no! Y/n. Get. Yourself. Together” You muttered these words through gritted teeth, repeating them over and over again, until the layer of unshed tears in your eyes became too thick and rushed down your cheeks, forcing you to fall to the ground. The impact made your knees sting, but the pain in your heart had already numbed every nerve ending in your entire body. You were at the edge of collapse, and you phone was still ringing. Wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt, you crawled over to the bed and picked up your cell, only to see Harry’s smiling face on his ID photo along with the pouting emoji you added to his name. It didn’t even take a moment’s worth of consideration before you pressed the red button and declined the call. Not that you had any power left in your body to communicate with another human right now, but you also knew that if it was something important, he’d also send a text, letting you know the matter was indeed urgent. And it came. The text came about 15 seconds later in real time, but for you, it was all a haze. Again, you didn’t think about it. If you declined his call and he still insisted, something must’ve been up. 'Love, I’m stuck at the studio for at least another hour and my mum is coming over’ 'She’ll be at my house in about 20 minutes’ 'If I leave rn I’ll have to come back tomorrow and I want to spend the day with her’ 'Can you go over there’ 'Let her in and hang out or something’ 'Or if you’re busy can she come to you and wait for me there?’

No, way. There was no way you could face his mother right now. She always saw right through your bullshit. Starting with when you and Harry were 18 and started denied your feelings for one another and up until this year, when she sensed something was off with you. When you saw her 2 months ago, it took you about 3 hours to convince her nothing is wrong with you for the sole purpose of keeping Harry out of your relationship. All it took for her to notice you weren’t comfortable with your boyfriend was the way you answered a question about his whereabouts. After that, you had to make up a whole story to prove to her she didn’t need to worry. And they say actors are good liars. You felt you were going to choke with every lie to told her, and frankly, you were surprised she believed you in the end. Maybe it was just how much she trusted you. Nevertheless, you weren’t the person for the job.

You stared at the messages on your phone, and breathed out from the deepest depths of your lungs. You hated that you couldn’t help him right now, but knowing at least 3 other friends of Harry's should be available, you locked your phone and fell back down, leaning against the side of the bed. The mere thought of Harry and Anne calmed you down a bit, but when you went back to reality, another wave of misery hit you. You still had to get out of there, but opening the door to your bedroom was probably the most frightening thing on your mind. There was not much time for you to gather your thoughts and plan your next move before your phone buzzed again. 'You hung up on me. I know u can see these. Everything ok??’ Instantly, you palm connected to your forehead as you rolled your eyes in disbelief. “How did he-” you muttered, unlocking your phone, to assure him you were ok. As it turned out, your text wasn’t enough to convince him you were good, so he called. But for this, you didn’t have the power. This time you didn’t bother to hang up, you turned off your phone completely and fell down onto the carpet. The minutes that followed were excruciating. That is if there was even a matter of minutes, your sense of time wasn’t even hazy anymore, it was gone altogether. The cries you tried to muffle out of fear Jack would hear you from the other room, created an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. If up until now it was all psychological, the spasming of your abdominal muscles were sure to force out everything you hadn’t eaten in the past two days. Just gastric acid was threatening to come up, but this feeling alone wasn’t enough to get you to stand up. By now, leaving the house wasn’t the problem anymore. It was the part of you that allowed yourself to be treated like trash that you didn’t know how to get rid of. At this point, the only thing you felt like doing was cracking your own chest open to rip out your heart and pick apart the broken parts. And not even that was good enough, you were afraid you’d be left with nothing. Since there was nothing you could do right now, you slowly stood up, and decided to head to the bathroom and clean yourself up in order to sneak out of the house. Messy hair and running mascara would draw attention to yourself on the street, and that was not something you could risk. As you walked across the bedroom, when you moved past the window, your eyes landed on Jack’s frame. He was sitting at the table in the back garden, drinking straight out of a bottle of Jack Daniels that was more empty than full. As messed up as that was, this sight gave you a rush of confidence. In this state, it was highly unlikely he’d hear you leave the house, and even if he did, you were positive you’d be able to outrun him. Once in the bathroom, the woman you saw in the mirror was not you. You refused to accept that you were in this state. It was a momentary lapse of character, from which you’d bounce back. You had to. In the shower, although feeling like you could break down all over again, you forced yourself to remain on track, and about 20 minutes later, you were back in your bedroom, putting on whatever clothes you found first. You checked the window. Jack was still there, scrolling on his phone. If you played your cards right, you could leave without your eyes landing on him again. You gathered your essentials - phone, charger, wallet, keys and whatever else you found completely necessary and walked over to the door, where you stopped. “I’ll take you less than three minutes to get to your car, Y/n” you whispered to yourself. “You can do this” You mumbled these words to yourself a few times, and when you raised your hand to open the door, the knob turned by itself and your heart fell two stories down. Already in overdrive, your adrenaline kicked in, sweating out of every pore as you instinctively looked for an object to use to defend yourself. All these defence mechanisms crumbled to the ground when you heard his voice. “Y/n?” because it was Harry, “Are yeh in here? Please, answer me!” You breathed out in relief, something you didn’t know you could feel again. You rushed to unlock the door, and he hurried inside at ungodly speed. “It’s Jack, ain’t it!?” he questioned with anger filled words, “I just got off with the phone with my mum, why didn’t yeh two say anything?” “I told her it was nothing” you mumbled, trying to avoid his eyes, but the way he held onto your cheeks made it impossible for you to look at anything else. “You did, yeah.” Harry nodded with despair, “And she believed yeh and now she’s blaming herself. Tell me. What happened? Where is he?” “God” you cried out and tried to lean your head back, but Harry stopped you and prompted you to look at him again. It worsened gradually, but by now, you barely managed to breathe properly as tears cascaded down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, hey” he breathed out, “Look at me, love. I’m here, ok? It’s over. I’m here. I got yeh” You tried to nod, but all you did was choke a sob and collapse into yourself, Harry barely managing to catch you. Holding you tight to his chest, he rocked you in his arms and rubbed the back of your head, “Its me, love. Its Harry”. He tried to chuckle, but pain was audible in his voice too. “Nothing will happen to yeh, ok? I swear on anything that I am, yeh're safe, yeah?” You wanted to nod, but when he moved his fingers up a bit across your scalp, you winced in pain, and he caught sight of it in an instant. “Did he hit you, Y/n?” he asked, pulling away to look into your eyes. You nodded no. For whatever reason, that was what you considered was the right answer. “Don’t lie to me, angel. Yeh don’ ever have to lie to me, ok?” “Ok” you muttered. “So did he?” “Yes..” And that was then the light in his eyes died. They started shining a particular type of darkness that terrified you to your bones. You froze. Your mind was too numb to act on your emotion, but when he brought you to his chest again, you finally realised your fear was unrooted. “Where is he?” Harry groaned in a deep tone. “Please, don’t” “I just want to talk to him” he fibbed. “Harry, I’m serious-” you cried, “Don’t do anything, I don’t want this anymore. I want it to be over. What if he tries to-” “Listen t' me, angel” he said sternly, looking straight into your eyes, “You’re crying. Shaking. I’ve never seen yeh like this. Ever. Not even close. Yer whole body shivered when I touched you. That man, hurt you. I don’t even want to think about what he actually did to you right now. Yeh’re the happiest, strongest woman I met in my entire life and he managed to bring you in this state. I won’t have that, ok? I won’t sleep again if doesn’t pay for this.” “Please, Harry” you whimpered, wiping some of your tears away. You placed your hands of top of his, and grabbed them tightly, “What if he does something to you, what if-” “Think about the girl that will come after you, hm? What about her? He’ll go on with his life thinking he doesn’t need to pay for his fucking demented behaviour, and she’ll walk straight into the lions den” “What if he hurts you?” “It won’t get to that, love. I’ll just talk to him. But I have to do this. I can’t not do it, you understand that, right?” After you reluctantly agreed, mostly because he wasn’t showing signs of giving up and you didn’t have it in you to fight him at that moment, you headed downstairs and he walked you to his car. Harry opened the door for you to climb in, but before that, you pressed yourself against him again, craving his touch and the feeling of safety it provided. “Oh, love” he sighed, rubbing your back. “I got yeh” You didn’t want to let him go, but you knew you had to. Eventually, you got into his car, but turned to him before closing the door. “You’re just gonna talk to him, alright?” you sniffled, “And then you’ll be right back, yeah?” “Yes, darlin’” Harry nodded and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “I’ll be right back” And with that, he left. You watched him walk into the house, your eyes remaining trained on his back until he was out of sight. Not knowing what was going on was driving you insane. Your phone was surely not going to provide any kind of distraction, you felt out of place, like you were sitting on a pile of nails as a train was approaching you at full speed. But there was nothing for you to do about it. Going in and joining the conversation was sure to make things worse, for all of you. It hurt that the right thing to do was sit and wait, you hated it, but you had to be patient. In need of something you keep your mind busy, you opened the glove compartment, and started rummaging through the junk that had pilled up there over the past few months. Mostly napkins, candy wrappers, McDonald’s straws, and seemingly, irrelevant stuff. Eventually, you came across some other things, like your old phone case, which you ended up discarding after you bought a new one while you were shopping with Harry for a birthday gift. There was also there a bottle of perfume, the kind you’ve been wearing for years, and in this one, there was barely anything left. Jumping jacks were taking place inside your heart. You knew Harry was the kind of guy every girl deserved in her life, but you wanted him for yourself only. It was mostly junk, and useless little things anyone would have forgotten existed, but he kept them. It didn’t take long before you got lost in thought again, but in the end, you decided to ignore any rush feelings you might be having, taking into consideration the emotional break down you have just been through. “Hey, love” Harry’s voice filled the air inside his car, as he flung the door open and climbed in in one swift motion. “Did you talk to him?” “Yeah” he said distraught and nodded, before turning around in his seat to check if it was safe to pull out. “With my fists” Your eyes snapped to his knuckles. Skin cracked and little droplets of blood peaking to the surface. However, he gripped the steering wheel as if it was nothing, and kept his smile on. What was most surprising, but actually not quite, was that he looked genuinely relieved. You sighed, “H, what happened?” “Nothing, love. I got there fuming ready to beat the guy to the pulp. But he was drunk outta his mind. I stopped then, I promise. I told him what I had to say but I doubt he understood a word I said” he confessed, grabbing your forearm and giving it a squeeze. “You said you were only gonna talk to him…” “That’s what I was planning on, I don’t- I don’t know what- anyway-” he mumbled, in between ragged breaths, “We’ll deal with it, ok? You won’t ever have to see him again. And he’s fine. He deserved so much worse, but I’m- I’m uh, I’m not-” “Thank you” you whispered, looking down at your hands, knowing any moment now the tears would come back. “Yeh don’t need to thank me, angel. I should have known sooner, this should never have happened” “I know… I’m sorry” “What’re yeh sorry about?” Harry asked, eyes trained on the road ahead, “None of this is your fault” “Then whose is it?” you exclaimed, “Hm?” “Fucking his!!” You tried to change the subject, but all you managed to do was drop this one. Nothing else held. Nothing was of interest, and even if it was, the timing was wrong. There was no way you could have started talking about what movie you just saw, and Harry clearly didn’t feel like boasting to you about what a great time he’s been having with his friends and family. Needless to say, for about 10 minutes, it was you, Harry and the sacred uncomfortable silence. “Can you drop me off at a hotel please” you asked, cringing a bit at your own words. “No, why?” He was clearly surprised, if not offended. “I- uh” you mumbled, too ashamed to use a normal tone of voice. “It’s your mum, H. I can’t see her right now. I don’t want to talk about this anymore, nor do I want someone else to worry about me. I promise I’ll be better tomorrow, and I’ll come hang out. Get a coffee or something” “Is that the only reason you want to go to a hotel?” “Yeah…” “Perfect” Harry nodded, “She’s not at my place. Didn’t expect you to be in the mood for company. But you shouldn’t be by yourself. I can drop you off wherever ya want, but not if you’re gonna be alone”. He took your silence for an answer. “My place it is, then” And you got to his house, and even if you had been there millions of times before, you felt out of place. You were afraid he bought you here out of mercy or sympathy, despite what he had just said. The atmosphere was different, and for whatever reason, you didn’t feel like home. For years, his house and anywhere near him, you felt your safest, yet today, you were afraid anything you’d say or do would be out of place. “Yeh know how this works” Harry said, walking into the kitchen, “It’s your home too, don’t shy away” “I know” you chuckled, and it did sound fake and it was obvious he noticed, but none of you pointed it out. “Are you hungry? Want something to drink? Tea? We can order something-” “I’m fine, thanks though” you sighed, slowly advancing towards him. You leaned your hip against one of the counters, silently awaiting his next move. But he didn’t quite do anything, except change his expression into one of maybe confusion. This must have been hard for him too, you didn’t know what you needed to hear, how could he have possibly known what to say? “Do you wanna watch something?” you asked, wanting to relieve some of the pressure. To be fair, you were not in the mood to watch any movie, but you figured laying down next to him would be calming and an easy way to avoid unwanted conversation. “Yeah, 'course” Harry nodded. “Actually... Got any wine?” He seemed completely taken aback, but soon enough, he came back to reality, offering to get the alcohol while you picked something you wanted to watch. It wasn’t a difficult choice. Seinfeld was a sure option, since you both liked it and it required almost no concentration at all. Just as you laid down on his couch, Harry came back into the living room, two tall glasses in his hands, and a bottle of while under his arm. “Figured white wine was safer, dunno how much we’re gonna drink, and nothing is worse than a red wine hangover” “Just how drunk do you think I wanna get?” you laughed, taking the glasses from him. “As drunk as yeh want, love” Harry smiled, pulling out a corkscrew, “The choice is yours” “Just don’t let me start ranting or anything” “Yeah…” he cringed, sucking in a deep breath as he squinted his eyes, “Can’t promise yeh that. Ya know I’m a sucker fo’ yer drunken ramblings” “Oh shut up” you scoffed. “And why did you bring these?” you questioned, pointing to the glasses, “Don’t you know me at all? Or are you suddenly grossed out by my germs?” “When you put it like that, it sounds gross, yes” Harry laughed out loud, before clutching the corkscrew tight into his hand and opening up the bottle, “But still, I’d be happy to exchange germs with you” “Oh wow” “Wha'?” Harry belted, playfully offended, “Yeh started it!” “Well, it sounds so much worse when some else says it” None of you could ever win this. He came over to the couch and motioned for you to scoot over. During the first episode, you kept your distance, but as the minutes passed and as the level of wine slowly lowered, so did the space between your bodies. By the third episode, Harry was laying down on his back with his knees bent, as you leaned back against his calves. That was when you opened up the second bottle. Still white wine, still safe. Harry's words. Every now and then one of you would chuckle, and in case too much time would pass without one of you making a sound, the other would gently ask an “You asleep?” even though both your minds were way too busy to be able to relax enough to drift off. When you almost finished this bottle too, Elaine was throwing a fuss, in the middle of Jerry’s living groom over some guy she went to gym with. “He wiped his hand on the top of the bottle when I offered him water” she said offended through the TV screen, making you stand up and turn to Harry. “This is the universe, love” he laughed but instantly you shushed him, knowing what line was next. “Are you kidding?” Elaine said again, “He should be craving my germs!” And at that, you both burst into laughter. “I had no idea this was the episode” you barely managed to say in between your crazy giggles. “Is it a coincidence?” Harry smirked, “Think not!” “You’re drunk” “So are yeh!” he defended himself, as if it would change anything. “You know what else I am?” “What?” You picked up the bottle and finished whatever was left in it, and then turned to him with a proud smile on your face, “Ready for the third one” “Stand up” Harry commanded and pointed to the space right in front of the couch. “Why?” “Do three pirouettes and if yeh don’t stumble I’ll open another one” “Buzz kill” you pouted and slapped his legs, “No” “I’ll do it with you” he laughed, and when he stood up, you reluctantly did too. When he motioned for you to do the pirouettes, another smile crept up your lips, “At least put some music on if you want to see my moves” “Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” he laughed, walking over to his phone on the table, “Are we gonna dance in the living room like the crazy people in those sappy chick movies we used to watch?” “Why do you have to be an asshole?” you joked, leaning your head to the side. “Because-” was all he managed to say before the music turned on, making him stop talking as he silently laughed. “Why-” you exclaimed, “On Earth, were you listening to My Heart Will Go On? Is Harold in love?” “I have a good explanation!” Harry jumped to defend himself, pointing a finger at you, “I tried to learn it” “On guitar I hope” you teased. “Ha, very funny” “Oh my god, Harry!” you burst into laughter, “I’m assuming you nailed it on the first try” “Yess!” he threw his head back, cheeks all red, “Celine stand back, I’m coming for yer money” “What would it take to convince you to sing it to me?” “Sing it with me” Harry responded in an instant, and it might have been the alcohol, but it didn’t even take a second before you agreed. You both grabbed one of the empty bottles as microphones, and sang your hearts out. Even though Harry had the vocal capability to reach some of those notes and sing full verses correctly, nothing that came out of his mouth sounded right. And if you were to carefully listen to the atrocities that came out of yours, you’d feel the need to hide for a week to finally get rid of the embarrassment. But you didn’t care. And neither did he. Harry only got like this if he was in a truly good mood. He wasn't always bubbly and childish, especially not today after everything that happened, and you knew a bottle of wine wasn’t enough to awaken this side of him, but still, he danced his hips into exhaustion, providing you with all the good energy you didn’t think you could possibly get. Your performance ended when some Creedence song started, and you walked over and pressed yourself against Harry’s chest. Since you got to his house, you gradually started to feel better, but it all came so naturally, you literally had to stop and check in order to actually realize it. “Thank you” you mumbled into his shirt. “Don’t need to thank me, love” Harry said softly, rubbing your back, “Seeing you loosen up and smile makes me feel better too” His words warmed up your heart from the inside, and it was probably the amount of emotions that you felt in the last 12 hours that caused you to have so little self control, but your eyes watered. At that point, thinking someone’s happiness relied on yours, was too much for your mind to process. Especially considering that for the last few weeks, it had been quite the opposite. A lot of things came to mind. There were a lot of things you felt like saying to him. Somehow, you couldn’t escape the need to thank him again and again, you wanted to tell him how amazing he was, how much of a blessing he was. Right then and there you got emotional you wanted to rant your heart out, but in the end, you lacked the courage. For some reason, even though you had nothing but good things to say, you were afraid to do so, embarrassed even. “Still-” you said softly as you pulled away from his chest. Your eyes rose up to meet his, and he welcomed you with the same warmth he had been showing all day, “I don’t know how to exactly say this, but I know that there’s no one in my life who would have dropped everything and came to check up on me, but you did. And I know you don’t want to hear me thanking you again, but I’m so so grateful you’re in my life” you confessed, breaking into a light sob. The change of atmosphere was too sudden. He didn’t see this coming, and you didn’t know you wouldn’t be able to finish your statement without a cascade of tears streaming down your cheeks again. “Love” Harry cooed, grabbing your cheeks and wiping your tears away with his thumbs. The heat from his palms gave you a newfound sense of reality, forcing your thoughts to spiral again. “Y/n, I love yeh. So much. Yeh need to realize that someone taking care of you isn’t out of the ordinary” “It is for me, Harry” “I’ll fix yeh” he chuckled, and it was so weak, and his eyes cried because he had to do so. “And we can talk about it, or you can talk and I can listen, tonight, tomorrow, three weeks from now at 3am. Whenever yeh’re ready, I’m here for you, ok? I fucking love yeh so much, Y/n. Don’t push me away, because I’m here for you no matter what, ok? I want to be” His words, his tone of voice, calm but also disturbed and with traces of pain audible in it, the way his hooded eyes bore into yours, the way his chest rose and fell with every breath he took, was all too much. “I don’t wanna talk about it right now because I’m afraid I might say things I shouldn’t” “If you mean it, you have the right to say it. It’s that simple, love” he smiled reassuringly. You contemplated telling him how much you loved him and how it has been him all the time, but you were afraid he would put it on account of everything that had happened during the day, and that he would brush it off. The last thing you wanted was for Harry to believe your feelings for him weren’t solid. And on top of it all, up until a few hours ago you were in a relationship, and it felt wrong to admit that all this time you have been thinking of another man. “Maybe some other time” you finally said, pushing aside the topic and putting some distance between the two of you. “Whenever that may be” he nodded, “I’m here, yeah?” A whole pile of tangled emotions filled up your chest, and you needed an escape. A chance to put your thoughts in order before you said something you’d later regret. The wine was threatening to force out some confessions, and you decided a shower would be the perfect opportunity to delay them. You stayed in the bathroom for a questionable long time, but when you walked out, wrapped in a towel, Harry was still awake, watching the TV. He had laid on the bed some clothes of his for you to wear, and you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself when you finally understood why there were two shirts. The first one was neatly folded, but you didn’t really pay attention to it. The second one, a bit to the side, was obviously recently worn, so you didn’t think twice when you chose this one, the scent of his cologne tickling your senses. After putting the pair of sweatpants on too, you headed back to the living room, where Harry was comfortably laying down on the couch. He signaled for you with his arms open to join him, and you did so in an instant, cuddling into his chest. “There’s only a bit left of the game. 10 minutes tops. Mind if we watch this? I can put Seinfeld back on if you want to” “Oh, no. It’s ok.” you shook your head, “Just tell me who we’re rooting for” “The blue ones, love” Harry laughed kissing the top of your head. After you both shuffled a bit and settled back down in a more comfortable position, with his arms wrapped around you and your head buried into his neck, you only managed to comment on a few moments of the game before falling asleep. Next thing you knew, Harry was rubbing your arm up and down and whispering softly to get your attention. “Let’s go to sleep, Y/n” “No” you mumbled, turning your head so he couldn’t see your face. “Its much more comfortable, angel, I promise” he laughed. “I said no” you giggled back. “I’ll let yeh sleep here then” When he tried to pull away, you tightened your hold around his middle, “No” “Do you know any words other than no?” Harry laughed out loud. “No” His chest shook as he chuckled at your antics, “We’ll sleep here then” “Yess” you smiled and turned to face him again. He seemed amused, but even so, he looked down at you with awe in his eyes. After taking his shirt and his watch off, you both resumed your position on the couch, but this time, you had your back pressed against his chest. “I knew you were gonna chose this shirt” Harry spoke up a second after you closed your eyes, “But it’s weird because you smell like me now” “Harry?” you questioned, playing with his fingers, “Are there things you want to say, but you’re too afraid to?” It took a while before he answered, but you waited patiently. “Yeh mean in general?” “No” you said and squeezed your eyes shut, cringing in anticipation. “I mean now” This time he didn’t answer. Maybe he would have, but when you figured enough time passed, you turned around in his hold. If the answer was no, there would have been no reason for him to hesitate, so you took his silence for a yes. It was a risk you were willing to take. “Good night, Ni” you said and pressed your lips against his; it was hurried, it barely lasted for two short seconds but you put your soul into this kiss and it sent your heart into overdrive. After you pulled away, you turned around immediately and settled back into your spot. He was silent, not one of his muscles flinched. Maybe it was the wine. You shouldn’t have done that. You wanted to move. Not touch him anymore, never see him again. It felt like you ruined the best thing that ever happened to you, all because you couldn’t control yourself. And you were so close. You should have just laughed at his remark about the smell of his shirt and then go to sleep. Why wasn’t he saying anything? This was wrong, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. “Would yeh have done that if things with Jack happened differently? If they ended on good terms? Or if we weren’t drunk?” “Yes” you whispered, your voice cracking, “I wanted to do that for a long long time. But I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry, forget it” “Will never” he said, and then brought you closer to kiss your neck, “And don’t be sorry” “I love you, Harry” “I love yeh”. He kissed your scalp and spoke into your hair, “The most”

-

Hey, guys! In case you read this far and thought this sounds similar (or maybe exactly the same) to another fic posted on here, it’s because I had previously uploaded it to another blog. It was a Niall imagine at first but then i was like hm... Harry! Anywayyyy i hope you liked this! Please don’t hesitate to tell me what you thought!

[lifesux4mostofus]

I no longer care.

But that’s a lie. 24 hours unable to end a nightmare that kept getting worse and then 3 hours of restless sleep before my body finally let me rest. For a split second it was a foggy weird dream. That pit in my stomach wasn’t there not til the next second. When everything came rushing back.

Hitting me w so much force that my body started involuntarily shaking bc suddenly my skin was cold to the touch of a fur blanket. Suddenly my mouth was dryer and my thoughts start moving faster remembering everything I was at the bliss of almost pretending didn’t happen.

Trying to remember what I felt like before the one person in this world betrayed me and himself by acting on something he knew was wrong. You knew it was wrong and did it anyway.

Being so suffocated by your own thoughts and so cold bc suddenly all warmth is gone. And hell I have a cat fast asleep in peace on my lap. But I can’t even feel his warmth. I can’t even move much more than my two thumbs.

I have to go to work today. I have to pretend I’m okay today. And the next day. And the next day. And then I have to be stuck with you for nearly 9 days of vacation that a small part of me is SCREAMing at me to just tell my boss I’ve changed my mind. I want the work. I want to get away from you. I want to force myself past the part of my mind that is suddenly so hellbent on destroying another piece of my soul.

Depression is bad but that lasts a few days and then I feel like I was being dramatic and move on. This is. This is something I don’t know what to do with. Idk if there is a moving on. I hit walls of anger. Betrayal. Self loathing. Disappointment. And then just numb like maybe if I just wallow in my self pity of the irony of my life it’ll all stop. Or maybe I like this darkness bc I am grasping to hold onto it. Something. Anything. Any kind of comfort to close a wound of betrayal I didn’t know was ever going to open again.

And now it’s flowing and it won’t stop. Like a busted pipe. It won’t stop. I can’t turn it off. I wish I could turn it off. But rn I’m just stuck in reruns of everything inside my own head. No desire to eat. No desire to want to do anything aside from crawl back in the dark hole that for a few hours of rest I was able to escape to and pretend I’m over it and moving on bc I don’t remember what I need to be over or moving on from.

I asked to know. But what’s worse is you still tried to hide it after trying to be honest. I should’ve listened to my gut. I had that feeling. That feeling that something was wrong but you couldn’t put your finger on it. I told myself I was being dramatic and crazy two weeks ago for having that feeling. Turns out a part of me knew before you were willing to tell me. Maybe you never would have if I hadn’t pressed the issue. There’s a beauty in bliss. But I prefer to chaos of knowing. It’s a reminder that this. This is why I don’t let people in.

2.5 years of a relationship suppose to lead to forever. Leaving me feeling like it didn’t exist. All of the good times gone. You can blame me for drinking. But you can’t blame me for trying to enjoy my life and then the destruction coming towards you. You set things in motion that neither of us could begin to comprehend with choices I wasn’t aware you were making. I actually thought it was solely me that was the problem. You have a way of convincing others that your chaos if worse than theirs so if you feel it you’re a martyr. How pathetic. It doesn’t erase how I handled things. You were so bothered I was acting like your ex you chose to become worse than mine. Unfaithful. A cheater. Worse bc maybe not even physically but mentally. You stroked yourself to a woman I asked you not to speak to two years ago. I still have her and her exes harassment messages.

I don’t know what I’m suppose to do with this. My thoughts all seem chaotic and clustered that I’m not even sure if anything makes sense that I’m writing. It’s funny that I’m writing this knowing your at the edge of your seat waiting for me to write it. Like you deserve some kind of explanation of what’s going through my head. You don’t. The second you let other women into your thoughts is the second you didn’t deserve mine. But I’ll give it to you freely. Bc maybe you’ll feel something from reading this. I don’t know if you can fix this and I want to hate you for doing this knowing what it would break in me. I can’t just heal over and since I’m not drunk anymore and capable of yelling my betrayal at you pretend that now I’m sober and I was being too dramatic.

Hilarious that you’re such a whore that other woman and men have always been there. The whole time in your head. It was never just about me. You always wanted more and deep down maybe I knew that. But do you feel it? That sense of if I lose her I’ll never fix this hole? That it cuts so deep to the bone that you don’t know how to breathe? Or is that just me? Maybe you don’t feel anything at all bc you have been so hellbent on thinking w your dick and betraying me maybe you’re just in love w the idea of me. A part of me wonders. If only he’d actually touched someone. Maybe I’d have the strength then and things wouldn’t be so grey bc it’s not just black and white for me to stay or leave. 60$ and rumple you use to say to demean my choice in something. Funny that now it’s 60$ and then some to destroy nearly three years of a relationship. Even tho you’ve called me wife since day one. If this is your marriage choices? I don’t want it. You think I’m in love w the idea of you so much and that I only wanted a kid. And instead of loving me, you destroyed that love and all that’s left is my kid. That looks just like you, poor girl. She is the only good thing. Would you want this for her? If a man she loved did this to her and she felt like this.. would that be okay with you?

Lucky her. That this isn’t about her. I hope to shield her from hurt like this. I hope to give her and grow the strength so if this happens to her she leaves. She respects herself enough to leave a man like you doing this to her. Next time you jerk off to another woman remember that. Remember that you wouldn’t want this for her. You wouldn’t want the love of her life doing this to her knowing how betrayed and disgusting it’ll make her feel. I hope it kills your boner every time.

On that note I don’t have much left to say. You disappointed me. And I don’t know what to do with that. I can no longer decide between what’s best for her or best for me. I can no longer think much more than today and just dragging my feet to the next few. I don’t have it in me to make a choice to leave you or make the choice to stay. Idk how long I need to heal. Or if I can. Idk if I’ll ever trust you again bc your loyalty is no longer loyal. At this point I was going to say you might want to change your bio on Twitter. “Loyal as a dog”. You keep trying to say “it’s not like that”. It is like that. You look at your dick. You look at a photo and you pretend you aren’t disgustingly beating off like a creep you pretend that girl is on your dick. I know how it works. I was 15 once too. Before I decided the real thing was better than a paid for photo or even a free one. You keep making excuses for you. Poor joe. Poor poor joe and his horny thoughts he can’t control. Fuck. You. You are not the victim here.

Dogs are better than you. Dogs take time to heal before moving on from a dead owner. Some will even let themselves die.

Good people don’t stick around to play house while rubbing their dick to whores you pay for or even free ones when their girlfriends in bed waiting for them. Good people don’t destroy their families for a nut.

I am tired. So please just let me be. I don’t feel sorry for you. You did this to yourself. You did this to us.

[unbakedthoughts]

I promised y'all hugs so here it is

(really sorry if this is taking up a lot of your feed! I'm having trouble adding a cut rn for some reason)

1.1K

Jon woke up with a scream building in the back of his throat. It died when it reached his lips, as he slowly remembered where he was. A metallic clanking noise seemed to emanate from below his feet, and the sudden noise jarred him out of the twisted grasp of his nightmares. The memories of last night's events were flooding his senses in a rush, and it was rapidly becoming too much. He tried the breathing exercises Melanie had taught him, but it wasn't working. Breaths came shorter and shallower as he was suddenly slammed with the realization that they were alone, they were on the run, that they—they. Martin. Jon was part of a they now. 

     He suddenly became very aware that Martin was holding onto both of his hands, clutching them tightly, as one would to a life preserver, which Jon found…quite nice, to be honest. Martin appeared to be out cold, and in this case, cold was not a figure of speech. He was radiating damp, chill air, like some kind of horribly broken space heater. Jon shivered, and huddled closer to him in an attempt to keep him warm. 

     Looking around the dimly lit train car, Jon noticed that he seemed to be the only one awake. The only other passengers were an old man with a cane, snoring quietly, (which ignited a rather unpleasant flashback to statement number 0121112) and a young mother with two children gathered in her arms. He figured no one would mind if he dropped his head down gently over Martin's, which happened to be resting on his left shoulder. It couldn't have been all that comfortable a position for Martin, as he was not exactly a small man, and Jon was very short when sitting down, but he looked so peaceful that Jon couldn't bear to wake him. 

     Face buried in Martin's mess of soft curls, Jon breathed in deeply, inhaling the grey, misty smell of the ocean, which did nothing to settle his nerves. He could remember the Lonely very clearly, and he suspected neither he nor Martin would be wanting to go to the beach anytime soon. Jon closed his eyes and cast out a net for sleep. Soon enough, the rhythmic motion of the train's wheels drowned out the racing thoughts running wild through his mind, and the last thing he saw before slipping into unconsciousness was the slim curve of a waning crescent moon.

***

     Jon woke up to the warm touch of sunlight on his face, the sound of the ocean, and to the entire left side of his body feeling ice cold. Martin. Whipping his head—which was no longer tucked over Martin's—around, he sees what startled him awake. Martin, though still in the seat next to him, was sat hunched over with his head between his knees, hands clasped over the back of his head, and shaking with body-wracking sobs. 

     While Martin himself made no noise, every time one of his tears hit the carpeted floor, it echoed with the sound of crashing waves. Around the edges of his body, the line where Martin met train was blurring. His hair, which Jon had been unable to see last night in the dark, was becoming even lighter than it had been when he was in the Lonely. It looked if the color was slowly being leached out of his curls from the ends up, and Jon was watching it happen. 

     Jon's thoughts were an endless stream of whatdoidowhatdoidowhawdoido. He couldn't Know what he was supposed to do in situations like this, they were supposed to be laying low, under the radar. Thankfully the other passengers weren't in the railcar, or else they might have been in deeper trouble. He shook himself out of his thoughts, and shifted until he was crouching in front of Martin, whose tears had created a sizable damp spot on the carpet by this point. 

     "Martin," Jon said, carefully pulling his hands off of his head, holding them together in both of his own in an attempt to stop Martin's trembling. "Look at me. I'm here, I'm real." His skin was the kind of cold that only comes from being submerged in freezing water, the kind that numbs the nerves and dulls the thoughts. 

     "H-how do I, d-do I kn-know?" Martin stammered, still looking at the floor. His voice was muffled, as if by a great distance. "I, I d-dreamt I w-was, I was back th-there. I can't g-go back, Jon"

     Jon brought a hand under Martin's chin, and gently tilted his head upwards. "Look at me, Martin. I'm here. We're both here. I won't let you go back there." Martin's outline was starting to unblur, and he felt more solid. Though he was still shaking, the saltwater tears had stopped falling, and his hair had stopped fading, settling in at a soft gradient from bright red to strawberry blond to a wispy white color at the ends. 

     "Promise m-me you won't l-leave."

     "I will never leave you, Martin." Jon promised, his hands framing Martin's face. "I swear it." At that, Martin met Jon's eyes for the first time that morning, and Jon had to stifle a gasp. His eyes, which had previously been a dark, molten brown color, had changed. There was now a thin ring of dark grey, the precise shade of an empty, desolate sea, banded around the inside of his irises. 

     "What is it?" Martin asked, his voice shaky, but quickly gaining steadiness. He was visibly tense, bracing for bad news. 

     "You're beautiful." Jon said instead, brushing away the last traces of tears from his cheeks. Martin was not expecting that, and couldn't help but blush. Jon felt the sudden bloom of warmth through his fingers, Martin's body temperature slowly but steadily rising to that of a normal human. "Your eyes have changed," he added, not wanting to lie. He was done with lies. "And your hair, as well." Jon continued. 

     "I don't care." Martin said with a laugh, surprising himself. 

     Then the train chugged around a particularly sharp turn, and Jon was nearly sent flying sideways, crouched on the floor like he was. Martin extended a hand towards him, and heaved him back onto his feet. Jon plopped back down into his seat, hand still linked with Martin's, and pulled him down to sit next to him. Wrapping an arm around his waist, Jon pressed his face into Martin's shoulder, hugged him tightly, and silently vowed that as long as he lived, or at least maintained some kind of consciousness, Martin would never feel alone again. 

[wreckofawriter]

Boredom

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Word Count: 4,049

Warnings: Angst, swearing, kinda hints at depression ish

Summary: The cure for your boredom just happens to have white blonde hair and icey grey eyes.

A/n: kinda feeling like shit rn, anyway here's this.

    You lay on the floor of the ballroom which resided inside your home, your arms spread like some sort of bird, your legs the same way. The room was, of course, empty, reminding you slightly of a massive tomb with its barren walls, sprawling polished marble floors and elegant silk curtains pulled tightly shut. In a way it was. 

    “More like a jail cell.” You mumbled to yourself. You weren’t sure exactly when it first started to happen but you were pretty sure it was around age twelve. As a child you were always taught the wrong thing, you were taught to avoid strangers, to mind your own business and fear stupid little things like spiders. And being young and naive you followed those directions closely, unwavering and constantly. But now you were being suffocated. Suffocated by the thing you should have avoided, the thing you should have minded and the thing you now feared more than you did anything else.

    Boredom.

    It was like darkness, it took you over slowly, it crept upon you inch by inch silently until you were plunged into its dangers headfirst. When you were younger, there was always an easy fix, you had plenty of toys to play with, a massive house to run through and enough friends to fill the room you currently lay in, but as time passed, toys became unentertaining, the house seemed to get smaller by the second and you realized friends were never truly there. So now you felt yourself begin to drown in the sea of boredom which claimed to be your life. You had tried focusing on your studies for a while but you honestly would have rather died. You tried to find hobbies but all the things that used to bring you joy now left you feeling empty and unimportant. 

So you began to do the only thing that brought any sort of feeling into your veins. You  caused trouble

So far you have turned yourself into and illegal animagus, cut and dyed your hair 7 times, pierced your ears in four places and your nose in two, given yourself multiple tattoos, you had thrown massive ragers, trashed your entire house, done more drugs than you cared to count and gotten sixteen staff members at your house fired. At this point your parents were convinced you were helpless, they never seemed to pay attention to you anyway, they had gotten you a therapist and now you went once a week and saw how quickly you could make each new shrink cry, your current record was 22 minutes. 

You groaned loudly banging your head on the hard floor which you lay, “I’m so fucking bored!” you shouted through the empty halls the only response being your own echo. You racked your brain for ideas and came up blank as you stared up at the crystal chandelier which must have been worth millions. You slowly sat up rubbing your eyes with closed fists and letting out a moan of frustration. You got to your feet which were bare, padding to the exit of the large room and beginning towards the spiral stairs which you had already climbed a number of times that day. You groaned and plopped on the first step, exhaustion for some reason making your bones feel as if they were made of lead. 

You sat there for a while staring at the hallway you had just walked, it’s the ceiling so high you had to crane your neck to see it, its walls decorated with giant portraits of relatives you have never met. You bit your lip the idea of defacing them dancing in your head. You eventually cast it away decided it wouldn’t even be very fun. 

You had a sudden urge to paint. You had plenty of massive canvases upstairs but those would not do, that is what you were supposed to do, and where was the fun in that? 

Your mind wandered back into the ballroom with its massive eggshell wall, just waiting to be decorated. Your lips widened into a smile, your eyes twinkling with sick glee and anticipation. You stood suddenly taking the steps two at a time to your room. 

You sprinted back down them a few minutes later, arms full of art supplies, you sprinted into the ballroom, unpacking all the paint. You didn’t have nearly enough to cover even half of a wall in the giant space, but you would make do. 

You grabbed the small jar of deep red, adding some brown and black to make a deep crimson before you added some water and stared at the white wall in front of you. Your lips were greeted with a rare smile once again and you threw the paint at the wall. It splattered across the wall, some bouncing straight back at you while most of it stained the wall in a gruesome scene. You watched in a trance as the paint dripped down the wall and slowly began to pool on the floor. You then plunged two fingers into the black paint not bothering with your brushes and began to drag them through the mess of red slowly letting your image fall into place. 

Your mother’s heels clipped down the hall in a synchronized symphony of disappointment. You were soaked in paint when she got home. Her eyes had widened knowing it was not going to be a pleasant work of art. 

She had attempted to have you tell her where the artwork was but you only winked telling her to find it herself, Now she trailed around the house looking for some masterpiece you spent almost the entire day on. Finally, she walked into the ballroom and her mouth dropped. 

Pasted on one of the walls was a bright splash of color. Paint the hue of rich blood splatter the background for the painting, on top of the red was a rough silhouette of what was clearly a young girl, she had her arms spread on either side of her, her hair floating around her like some sort of goddess, her eyes were the only detail added and they were painted in a startling white, wide open, conveying a level of terror. Across the middle of the work, crossing the girl’s stomach were two words, still slowly dripping white paint lazily down the wall. 

“You like it?” You asked your mother a light tease making your words taste bitter. 

“Back off!” You glared at the man who was carrying your trunks and owl. He had made the fatal mistake of bumping you with one of the bags he was holding and you now growled at him as your owl snipped at him her deep black feathers shimmering in the light. 

You walked through the brick wall before heading towards the train. A young girl stumbled over your foot and you glanced down at your now scuffed black boots. You turned your head to yell at the girl but was instead met with a pair of icy eyes. You giggled taking in the boy’s appearance, he was dressed in a trim black suit with a collar with looked like it was choking him. 

“Looking pompous as usual Malfoy.” You smirked another fit of laughter threatening to burst from your lips as he rolled his eyes. 

“Looking rebellious as usual y//l/n.” He mocked glancing up and down your outfit, “New tattoos I see.” he spoke gesturing towards his own neck. 

You gave him a closed-eyed smile which caused a crimson to bleed up his neck. “You like it?” You asked tilting your head so he could get a better look at the deep mark etched into your skin. 

He started at the scene depicted on your flesh, it showed a cobra its fangs sunk into a human heart, blood dripping from it’s wound. He resisted the urge to shiver. 

“It’s lovely.” He drawled sarcastically. 

“Always so kind Malfoy.” you giggled, you opened your mouth to speak again before you heard a sharp cough which made you wince.  You turned the light from your eyes disappearing, “Father?” You spoke sweetly, “I didn’t know you were coming.”

He glared past you at the blonde, “I thought I told you not to talk to such families.” He growled lowly.

“Oh, I just ran into him,” You lied a new sparkle dancing in your deep y/e/c. You promptly turned back to the boy standing on your toes and reaching up to cradle on of his cheeks in your hand as your lips pressed softly to the other. “Save me a seat, Dracy.” You said making sure to be louder than necessary. You then turned back to your father’s eyes which were narrowed with furry as your own challenged him, daring him to say something. 

“I would never speak to such families.” Your lips curled sickly lipstick now slightly smeared. A sudden rush of excitement met you at your father's pure furry, you finally found a hobby. 

You found immense joy at this new weakness lodged in your family. Your parents had recently become numb to the trouble you caused, your attempts had become fruitless as your parent’s tolerance built, but now you realized you had struck a much-hated nerve. The Malfoys. 

Draco was never sure what was up with you. You were a particular person, someone he could never quite read, your actions were spontaneous, almost no thought being put into them. You jumped into the world each day just as unsure of what you would do as anyone else, yet you always made an incredible splash. You intrigued him. 

When he was younger he had simply liked you because of your thirst for disorder, but as he began to grow your smiles became precious jewels, your laughter sweet symphonies and every step you took was flourished with deep red roses. You were priceless. 

You weren't friends, acquaintances was pushing a boundary, he wasn't sure which line you stepped upon but he wished it was one closer to him. 

Ever since a misjudged and unfortunate business deal between your families the y/l/n's had cut the Malfoy's from the lives.

Luckily for Draco, you were never one to follow rules, especially those made by your parents. 

Draco shook his head attempting to rid his head of the feeling of your lips, which still seemed to be pressed to his cheek. He took a seat ignoring Blaise across from him and letting his eyes drift to the window on his right. 

A bubble of laughter emerged from the cabin and his head snapped upward. 

"Blaise!" You cheered bouncing on your toes before taking your seat next to Draco, "It's amazing to see you!" 

"It's good to see you too y/l/n," he smiled, "You seem like you're in a good mood." 

"I'm in a brilliant mood!" You exclaimed, "My dad came to drop me off today." 

Blaise's eyebrows knitted in confusion before a sly smirk took his lips, "You pissed him off didn't you." 

"Naturally." You shrugged.

"I'm guessing you had quite an eventful summer." Draco murmured. 

"As always!" You lied, you couldn't quite admit that you had been crushed by the emptiness you felt not but days before, you had to ride the new high you had acquired through a simple kiss on the cheek, "I painted a mural in the ballroom, mom wasn't too happy about it." 

"I can imagine." Draco laughed.

You reach Hogwarts still quite hyper from the events that transpired at the train station, the absolute glee you felt at the hatred that rested in your father's eyes was unlike any drug you'd had before. Your mind reeled, already working to reach that peak again. 

You hummed happily in the carriage ride, you practically danced into the hall a lollipop still lodged between your lips. You felt invincible. 

Unfortunately it didn't even take a week of mind-numbing classes and monotone voices to bring you back to the routine of boredom which had become your life. 

You lay staring at the ceiling of the grand hall, it was currently breakfast, your head rested in Draco's lap as your eyelids struggled under the weight they held. 

"You okay y/n?" He asked for the fifth time that morning. 

"I'm fine." You lied fiddling with the hem of the blondes robes, your fingers dancing across his wrist as the boy fought a blush. 

He opened his mouth to protest your answer but let his words stay behind his lips as the screech of owls echoed around the hall. You seemed indifferent to the new situation until a shimmer of black caught your eye.

You sat up holding out your arm for your owl to perch before untying the letter looped to her bare leg. 

You tilted your head curiously, mail was a rare occasion, particularly from your parents. Looping golden letters printed on expensive paper proved it could only be from a higher class. You didn’t bother reading the address, curiosity burning deep within you. You tore through the golden wax, your family's seal placed upon it.  You pulled the letter from its shell, your dull eyes seeming to grow pale as you released a small groan. 

“What is it?” Draco asked peering over your shoulder at the letter you held. 

"Another fucking ball." You moaned throwing your head onto the table in front of you, "I mean how many do we need to have? It's not like anything had changed since last month. My parents just need an excuse to say, 'Hey look we're still prestigious assholes.'"

Draco snickered beside you. Blaise took the letter from your hands and you gave no protests. He scanned it before bursting out laughing. 

"It says you need a plus one." He smirked. 

In milliseconds your mood changed. Your head popped from the table a dangerous twinkle filling your eyes. You turned to Draco.

"Will you do me a favor?" You asked desperately.

"Umm sure." He shrugged, he would have jumped off a bridge if you had asked with the same enthusiasm. 

"Sweet! You're going to this bullshit with me." You smiled.

"Y/n won’t your parents be pissed?" He sighed biting his lip. 

"Royally." You responded leaning even closer to the boy, your eyes were wide with excitement, cheeks lightly flushed, hair disheveled from previous frustration, you looked angelic. Then you thrust your lips onto his. 

Draco's eyes went wide before slowly slipping shut, his hands snaking around your waist as you forced your tongue into his mouth. 

He tasted minty and slightly of blackberry jam. He smelt of expensive cologne and honey. 

You pulled away panting slightly, "Take me to Hogsmeade this weekend." It clearly wasn't a question. 

"Okay." Was all he could manage his face still beat red.

You smiled grabbing your things and walking away without another word. 

Draco turned to Blaise, his eyes wide, cheeks fiery heart thumping at an uncomfortable rate. "What the fuck?"

Blaise burst out laughing.

You weren't exactly sure why you kissed Draco. It just happened. You liked it though, the kiss was nice, it felt better than it had kissing any other boy, it felt wrong. You knew it wasn't supposed to feel that way, but maybe that's why you liked it so much, it wasn't smooth and soft, it was bumpy and rough, like water clashing harshly onto stones. You loved it. It was new and exciting and different it broke your routine, throwing a wrench into the gears of your perfectly planned out life. It was everything you had been yearning for. 

You feel an unfamiliar sense of nervousness take you over as you dressed for the ball. The gown you were wearing was far too elegant for you, its sleeves long like a Victorian queen’s, the silky fabric causing you to shiver.

You left your room in a hurry. Your makeup is not quite done right, your dress a bit wrinkled. You didn’t care, you never did. 

Draco wrung his hands, sweat seeming to be never-ending. He knew he shouldn't be nervous, your parents already hated him why was he so scared? Because it's HER parents a voice whispered. It was true. Before Draco even knew of the y/l/ns hatred for the Malfoy’s he had fallen in love, He could help but want to please your parents. A heavy sigh followed by the sound of heels on marble echoed through the small room he resided in. Draco glanced upward, his mind going blank as he caught your eye. 

You looked like a princess,  a small silver tiara topping your head of y/h/c as proof. But isn’t wasn’t the dazzling jewelry which took his breath from him, it was the light that held your eyes. The look of a child so innocent and pure mixed with that of a psychopath who had just trapped its next victim, it made you shine. Your pupils seeming to dance in a sea y/e/c. You walked straight up to him and without any words slammed your tongue down his throat, Draco seeped into the kiss pushing you back towards the wall and eliciting a small moan as you tugged on his hair. The boy was about to reach for your zipper when you pulled away from him, lipstick now smeared, Dracos own lips tinged red. 

“We should go.” you murmured before slipping from the room. He still didn't understand you.

Draco trailed after you widening his steps before catching his hand in your own. You walked down the spiral staircase which you hated so much hand and hand with the solution to your problems. Just before you reached the room which you once stained red Draco stopped pulling on your arm. 

“What's up?” You asked.

“Y/n, I don't think I can go in there, your parents hate me.” You opened your mouth to brush off his comment but then your eyes met. He looked desperate. He needed something, something that another kiss couldn't fix, something real.

You sighed before throwing your arms around the boy, “I don't care what my parents think Draco.” You lied, “I don't care that they hate you, all I want us you by my side” You felt cruel as the dishonest words left your mouth. 

You pulled away cupping his face in your hands, kissing him for the first time in your relationship, lightly, lovingly. 

“Now let's go.” You said snatching his hand and entering your jail cell, but this time you had the key. 

You enjoyed the stares that the two of you brought, but it wasn't enough. A few murmurs were exchanged but other than that business proceeded as usual. You felt like you were caught in some weird trance, not enough was happening, no one had yelled, no one had gasped, fire had not erupted from the walls, you need a reaction.

You felt he needed to break something, scream or burst into tears, you need to shatter this terrible nightmare you were living in. Your mother’s sharp gasp did the trick, you hid a smirk as she hurried towards you not even sparing a glance at Draco before dragging you away.

“What in Salazar is Malfoy doing here?” She hissed in your ear, the grip on your arm becoming slightly too tight. 

“He's my date.” you smiled, so calmly and so innocently it was hard to believe you were riding the high of her utter horror. 

“Your what!?” She rasped at you her grip on tightening.

“Date.” You repeated a grin still plastering your features.

She let out something that sounded like a whimper, “You said you were bringing your boyfriend.”

“I did.” Your lips seemed to hold an untold evil as you looked at her. 

She looked like she was about to cry, “Y/n! How could you? This is a Malfoy, we lost hundreds of thousands because of them.” 

“Correction, you lost hundreds of thousands over them.” You smirked, “By the way, I’m quite disappointed you painted over my mural, I worked so hard.” You pouted

Something new arose in your mother's eyes, she was no longer disappointed or sad or even mad, she had reached her breaking point, “You are a demon of a child.” She snarled. 

You felt as if someone had just given you an illegal pill, you reached a point of ecstasy you didn't think was possible you had done it, you had broken the sculpture of your life, “The devil did give birth to me.” You taunted. 

She stood speechless, her eyes filling with hatred.

“My date is getting lonely so I’m going to go, but thank you so much for this lovely chat,” you spoke turning on your heel and walking back to the boy who stood awkwardly by a table of elegant food. The second you reached him you locked your hands around his neck and connected your lips, your heart thumping wildly from the excitement you held. 

You pulled away and winked ignoring his questioning gaze, “Wanna dance?”

He nodded. 

After the ball, your mission seemed to be accomplished. Your parents broke their neat well put together little facade and lost it, your mother burst into tears, your father held a wand to your neck and the whole time you smiled. You smiled because it wasn't what you do every day, it wasn't the thick routine you had become so accustomed to. It wasn't the sharp timer you felt ticking behind you every moment as if you were always one step behind. It wasn't the timeline your parents had drawn for you and forced down your infantile throat. It was chaos. Absolute chaos. And you had never felt more alive.  

Just as quickly as it started it all stopped. Your parents disappeared, you went to school again and feel back into the sick loop of your life, and as your high died out and you realized you had created nothing more than a bump in the road your plan became meaningless. And so did the people in it. 

You no longer yearned for Dracs touch. His lips felt numb against your own, his hands in your hair meant nothing, the taste of caramel and smell of cologne dulled, the color he used to hold seems to be drained from him. But really his purpose had. 

He could sense it, your numbness, your indifference your complete and utter boredom. But he kept hoping. Hoping you would kiss him as you had in that ballroom, that you would hold him as you had that night, that the light in your eyes would return because your touch still sent him into frenzies, your kiss still felt like fireworks, you still tasted of butterscotch and bubblegum. Your hand in his hair still brought butterflies to his stomach. He still needed you. 

“I can’t keep doing this.” 

The boy cringed at your words, “Doing what?” 

“Just this Draco.” You seemed tired, “I don't love you.” 

Those four words effectively smashed him into pieces. He wanted to scream.

“I don't think I ever did.” You spoke dryly, wetting your lips. 

Those six shattered him, “Then why did you kiss me?” He asked, his throat felt raw and scratchy like it had been clawed apart. 

You shrugged, face still vacant of any emotion, “You were new.”

    “That doesn’t make any fuckings sense!” he burst suddenly, turning to face you. You didn't even blink.

“Nothing makes any fucking sense Draco. None of this did.” You sighed. 

“Why did you lie to me?” He snarled, "Why did you say you loved me, why did you say you needed me? Why did you make me believe you?”

You didn't speak, you weren't sure what to say.

“Why did you fucking lie to me y/n!?” He repeated, his voice cracking. 

“I don't know.” But you did know. You had always known. You needed a distraction, something to break the routine, to force chaos upon you and he did just that. He elicited the fire in your father’s eyes, he brought furry to your mother's mind and he gave you a week of freedom. And he was worth it. You would never utter it out loud, but breaking him was worth it. Because for just a moment he had cured an incurable disease. Boredom. 

Tags:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

Masterlist

[powermaknae]

I’m the Biggest Hit

NCT 127 x Idol! Reader

In which you, a member of NCT 127, get in a car accident that changes your career.

~Idol! au, best friend! Johnny, Boyfriend? Yuta, blood, car accident, graphic scenes, lot of medicine

Word Count- 4.3K~

A/N: I originally wanted to use Lily for this one, but I started writing and it made more sense to do a reader au. I’m really interested in medicine rn, so I used some stuff I learned from uni. I am also fully aware that some parts make absolutely no sense, from a medical stand point. I just tried to make it work :). Enjoy!

Cherry Bomb was one of your favorite dances to perform. It was so fun to learn and made you smile every time you practiced it. When the boys had their hair cut and dyed various colors and shades, you became overwhelmingly excited. You had yours done with purple and pink highlights. You loved this era.

You were devastated when you couldn’t perform it anymore.

Heading home one night after a schedule, you hopped in the second of two vans required to fit all nine of you. You sat in the passenger seat, Doyoung, Winwin, Taeyong and Yuta in an array behind you.

You sat with your right ankle on your left thigh, wedged and pushing against the door and middle consult. You propped your arm on the windowsill, leaning your head on it slightly as you turned to participate in conversation intermittently. After the energy behind you had calmed significantly, you checked your phone for notifications.

John: Hey

You: Hm

John: Wanna play overwatch later?

Before you had the chance to answer, you heard a loud SMASH. Almost instantaneously, pain surged through your whole body and you yelled out instinctively. The vehicle stopped spinning.

Again, you felt a crunch accompanied by another loud SMASH and everything went blank.

As your body lay limp in the front seat, several people surrounded the vehicles. The others in the first van quickly ran over after the traffic had haltered. Johnny was frantic, panicking once he realized who was missing; you. He clawed through the others trying to pry the concave metal away from the body of the vehicle. His strength mixed with the adrenaline coursing through his veins allowed him to free it with a single jerk.

The sight of your mangled body made him take a step back in shock. “We have to be careful not to move her, it may injure her worse,” one of the staff called to him. He started to break down in front of the open side of the car, completely consumed by panic. The other members caught a glimpse of the gruesome sight, covering their mouths and backing away. Taeyong rushed to Johnny’s side, holding his large frame and allowing him to collapse onto his shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably.

Your head hung down, your purple and pink highlights hovering around your face. The beautiful, soft white shirt you had worn had been punctured by a shard of your fractured rip, blood staining and soaking the once elegant fabric. Parts of your arm were bent awkwardly and bruising quickly, and what was left of your right leg looked bloody and shredded, pieces of flesh mixed with muscle, cartilage, and bone shown under the bright streetlights.

An ambulance arrived swiftly, rushing to safely extract you from the van. You were unconscious until you arrived in the emergency room, where they administered several doses of epinephrine. The other members had also been brought for monitoring. Johnny, you were told, collapsed from hyperventilation in the ambulance, but refused to leave your side when he came to.

You woke with a start on the gurney in the confined space of the trauma room. Your eyes shot open, but you had a hard time focusing your vision. Your entire head ached and shot pain signals all over your body. You were barely alive, but you tried your best to stay conscious.

Several voices echoed in your ears, doctors barking orders, asking you questions you couldn’t answer. Above everything, you heard a soft muffled voice, praying for you to come through. You looked around to find the voice and saw a tall figure in the doorway, hands clasped in front of his face. Johnny.

Behind him you saw several other clouded figures pulling him away to let the doctors focus on you. But you didn’t want him to leave. He backed away slowly and turned to go back to the members. You heard a doctor confront you again, but you couldn’t process what they were telling you.

Three doctors lined up holding your arm with a strong grip. The one closest to you gave a quick count down and you felt pressure in your shoulder, then a massive amount of excruciating pain. Your cry was muffled by the mask sending oxygen to your face but was still heard throughout the room. You teared up and felt a tear sting the corner of your eye. Either the pain was too much or you’d lost too much blood, but you blacked out again shortly after that, and didn’t regain consciousness until you were waking up from surgery.

Your eyes flurried slowly, trying hard to focus. Your entire body was numb from the waning anesthesia and all you could take in was white. You felt surrounded by the color white, its bright hue clouding the little you could see. You felt drowsy and uneasy, mind unsettled. What had happened?

As more of your surroundings came into view, you saw several people sitting around you. Some had white coats and others wore mostly black. You were hooked up to wires, a heart monitor, an IV with multiple fluids. You were breathing through a tube, and you choked on it slightly when you went to breathe yourself.

Someone beside you must have heard because a nurse was quickly summoned to take the tube out. Your eyes were more adjusted to the bright room now and you could see all the blankets covering your body, the bustling hall outside your room, and you could make out faces now. Several doctors came to check your vitals, but you were more focused on the black figures by your side. The boys had stayed with you: Taeyong, Jaehyun, Yuta, and Johnny, all standing now at the side of the bed, your manager in the corner of the room.

Johnny looked like he hadn’t eaten or slept in days. His eyes were puffy and red. Yuta had scratches and some stitches along the side of his face. He had been sitting behind you in the van and had taken some of the blow, but it was evident that you were impacted the most. Taeyong however, looked fine physically, but the expression on his face said he had been sick with worry and Jaehyun had just returned with his arms full of coffee for everyone when you had awoken.

You went to grab the closest hand to prove your wellbeing and became acutely aware of your state of injury. Your right arm was up in a sling, unable to move and your abdomen was wrapped tightly in multiple layers of bandages. Everything below your waist was numb.

Your attention was whisked away by the abrupt voices of the doctors at your feet. “Hello, Y/N. How are you feeling?” You were taken aback by the English you weren’t used to hearing. You tried to speak for the first time but only air came out. “That’s ok, you don’t have to talk just yet. We’re going to do a few tests to make sure everything is how it should be, ok?” You nodded slowly.

A nurse shined a bright light in your eyes. “Pupil are equal and reactive.” That’s a good sign. “Can you wiggle your fingers for me?” You successfully moved each one in small slow motion. You looked at your friends. Yuta kept a stern face, watching every movement carefully, but Johnny and Taeyong gave you reassuring smiles.

The doctors and nurses wrote down notes on your chart, took your vitals again, then turned to the other men in the room with a kind face. “Would you mind giving us a minute?” They turned to each other then to you with a questioning look. You nodded in approval and they shuffled out behind one another and stood just outside the closed door.

“I know this might be a little scary. Just stop me if it’s too much.” You gave a concerned look. “You’re conscious enough to know what all has happened.” You relaxed slightly.

“You suffered a mild concussion; you may feel a little dizzy for a few days. Your right humerus has a small hairline fracture right here.” They pointed to the base, next to your elbow. “Your shoulder was also dislocated but was fixed when you first arrived. Your arm will need to be in a cast for a couple of weeks but shouldn’t cause any trouble. You also suffered several rib fractures on your right side. One punctured through the abdominal wall, but there were no internal injuries.” That explains the multitude of bandages.

“The worst of your injuries may be a bit shocking, so prepare yourself.” They gently pulled your covers away, revealing the numb part of you body. In front of you laid your left leg, slightly bruised, and battered, but otherwise fine, and a stump ending right above where your knee should’ve been. Your eyes burned as your heart filled with panic. “Your knee and the cartilage around it had been pulverized. There wasn’t much we could do to save it. I’m so sorry.” At that, the room cleared. You felt a deep sadness as you stared at the empty space.

Your sinuses began to burn as tears plummeted from the corner of your eyes. You quietly sniff, trying your best not to show your heart. You found Yuta standing up by your head, sweetly stroking your hair as you cried. Johnny held your weak hand tightly, holding back his own tears, Taeyong quietly comforted him, his bubblegum pink hair covered his eyes. Jaehyun sat at the foot of your bed and rubbed your calf affectionately.

They stayed with you as much as they could in between schedules, drifting in and out with other members. Johnny and Yuta stayed most nights with you instead of going back to the dorm. They would come right after the schedules and sleep in a spare cot next to your bed, then leave early to go get ready. Taeyong, being the leader he is, drove with them and made sure you were all doing alright. Other members would bring you food when you were able to eat again and gifts like stuffed animals. Some of them even brought your things from home like your clothes and books and your toothbrush.

You felt like, after being in a hospital bed for so long, that you lived there more than anywhere. The boys always insisted on helping you with normal tasks. At first, you tried to deny it, pushing them away, but after a while, you just let them do it. If Taeil wanted to wheel you to the cafeteria, you’d let him.

As time went on, schedules become more frequent, Johnny arrived later and left earlier, and Yuta stayed less frequently, practicing during the night instead. You also became busier, focused on regaining your mobility on your own. You had been working with new technology that was pioneering new prosthetic limbs that would allow you to regain the ability to dance and would be discharged soon, going back to the dorm.

The sling holding your arm has been removed, leaving only the purple plaster of your choice, peppered in black ink where your friends had signed. Many of the other bandages have become lighter and less abundant as well. You’d been practicing walking with crutches and were able to get around without a wheelchair, but they planned to send you home with one anyway.

The day they bring you home is much less excited than you’d hoped. The boys were at schedules all day, doing interviews, with an award show that evening, so no one would be home. You had to sign all this liability paperwork before you could leave, which took quite a bit of time. You are not supposed to be left alone while at the dorm, for fear of your mental health and of possible injury, so a staff member will be accompanying you while the boys are away. Lame.

The familiar company van is loaded with equipment instead of men in shiny outfits. Your heart aches from the feeling. You sit in the back seat this time, far away from the impact point, fear creeping in your mind.

You make it to the dorm safely. Nothing to worry about. No one is present upon your arrival. You’re not even sure they know you were discharged today. The rooms are quiet and tidy as always. The silence is unnerving.

You get settled, putting all of your things that had been brought to you in the hospital, back in there original place, sitting on your bed, admiring the sight before you. You still had so much time before they got back.

Their faces light up with big smiles, when they first open the door to find you sitting at the high countertop. A line formed to give you hugs and encouraging statements, Johnny being the first and taking the longest, telling you how glad it was to have you back.

You wanted to make the members some food. You knew they’d be hungry after the show, maybe you could make some quick ramyeon for them to share on your first night home. Unfortunately, you still hadn’t gained full independence yet, so you asked the staff charged with your company, Minjae, to help you. He does most of it for you as you sit in your wheelchair, cutting vegetables and monitoring what you can. When it is ready you cover it with the lid and hoist yourself onto the bar stool and patiently wait for the energy to fill the room once more.

***

Living in the dorm after the accident was much different. Someone was always by your side, whether you wanted them or not. Taeyong had given them assignments of who would watch you without your knowledge and of course himself, Johnny and Yuta offered the most time. You became closer with other members too, going to dinner with Mark, playing games with Haechan, and watching movies with Doyoung.

You almost resented them for looking down on you. You were not lesser even though a part of you was missing, but you never told them that. Yuta was the only one that still treated you normally. He pushed you to be better. The others just did everything for you and you started to believe you were inept.

One night, you had been so depressed from lack of sunshine and human contact. You were home alone with Johnny while the others went out to celebrate a birthday. Johnny, being so much larger in stature that you, liked to carry you everywhere, but you hated it because it didn’t allow you to progress. He fell asleep early that night, exhausted from all the activities, but you couldn’t sleep. Your mind just kept spinning. Why me? Why did this have to happen to me? Why am I stuck in this house, unable to live a normal life?

You got out of bed using your crutches, being careful not to wake Johnny, as he made you sleep in Haechan’s bed when you had to stay with him. You snuck out quietly, going to the bathroom and looking as your own somber expression.

You feel your eyes start to tear up at the thoughts racing through your head. You go to take a step back, shifting your weight to you right side and CRASH. You hit your back on the cold tile floor.

The crash of the crutches were enough to wake Johnny from his deep sleep and he rushes to the bathroom, panic coating his handsome face. You don’t move for a second, but you feel no pain. Your emotions just slam through your whole body, letting all the pent-up sadness out in one foul swoop.

You prop yourself up on your hands, moving to sit with your back against the decorated wall. Johnny’s worry and panic quickly fades as he sees you sob against the wall and for once, he doesn’t offer to help you. He sits down next to you, holding his knees close to his body, allowing yours to take up more space. You lean your head on his shoulder and he lets you only saying in a soft voice, “Are you ok?” You let everything out, every emotion since the crash, all the anger, frustration, depression comes rolling out of you.

 Since the accident, you almost never dream. The dreams you do have are nightmares that keep you awake, but they’ve subsided over time. You haven’t spent very many nights alone, sneaking into the other members bedrooms. You confided in Johnny most nights and even roomed with him for a while. He was your best friend, after all. But you found yourself around Yuta a lot more than you had in a while.

After that, he doesn’t carry you. He offers a hand that you brush away, but he doesn’t insist, only hands you the crutches and waits for you to leave first, trailing behind your smaller figure.

***

You have always considered him a close friend, being the same age. It wasn’t awkward between you and you shared your innermost feelings with each other. Recently, everyone had decided that having roommates on tour is no longer necessary, so you all got separate rooms. But you hate being alone. You hate being left to your thoughts.

You got a notification on your phone, hoping for Johnny to invite you to come jam with him, but it was V App alerting you of a new live stream. “It’s been a while,” it read. Who is on this late? You open it in a state of curiosity. A familiar face appears in your hand, his wavy brown hair hanging in front of his forehead. He looked tired and depressed from the long day you’d had. You’ve been worried about his mental health recently, but he won’t tell you if something was wrong.

After waiting for some time, hoping the live would end, you grabbed your phone and key card and quietly strolled a few doors down, knocking softly, careful not to wake any other residents. The door cracks and suddenly flies open at the recognition of your face. “Hey, I’m on V App. What’s up?” He puts his hands in his pockets as you offer him a soft smile.

You don’t say anything, you just hold your arms open for him to hug you. He obliges and hugs you tightly, bending down slightly to reach you. His hugs are always so warm and lovely, but never long enough. “Can I stay?” You look up at his kind face as you pull away. “Of course.”

Yuta doesn’t really care if you stay or not, he enjoys your company but is fine to be alone. He surely cares for you and could never say no to you, especially if you pouted. There isn’t much to do, so the two of you talk with fans and mess around on your phones. There is only one chair in the room and Yuta lets you have it. “Can you talk to them for a bit, I’m gonna wash my face.” You nod with a bright smile and return to the eager fans, introducing yourself.

Throughout the live stream, Yuta seems to have his hands all over you, giving you back hugs and having you sit on his lap when the fans ask questions about you. You end up falling asleep on his fluffy plush bed and he leaves you alone for the time being, courteously trying to keep his voice down for you.

You were walking down a long stretch covered by sakura trees. That’s all you could see. It was peaceful and serene, not another living soul to be found. You move in a circle, looking for absolutely anything else, but only see the beautifully blossomed trees. What is this place?

Suddenly you see a bright flashing coming toward you and BANG. You fall to the ground, pain surging down your spine and out to every limb. You prop yourself up, checking for injury and only see one: Your leg. You could see the blood pooling around it. The pain was so realistic, you hollered and jolted yourself awake, your eyes shoot wide open and you sit up, hold your hands behind you.

Yuta turns around quickly. He then quickly turns back to the camera saying in a calm voice, “Good night, everyone. Hope you’re doing well.” He turns the camera off and puts all of his attention on you. “Another one? Are you ok?” His voice is soothing, even though it’s laced with concern. “Yeah, I think so.”

You had forgotten to take off the prosthetic leg before falling asleep. You did on most occasions, but this time, it slipped your mind. It wasn’t uncomfortable to wear, so it didn’t bother you. But as you sit up in Yuta’s bed, you avoid eye contact, only staring at the leg, still feeling the hyper realistic pain from the dream in the phantom limb.

Yuta follows your gaze and realizes why you haven’t moved yet. You typically shake off the terrifying feeling after having a nightmare, but he also knows that the spirts of phantom pain have become more frequent during dance practice and at night. He knows that the only way to make it go away is to take the prosthetic off, so he motions to help you undo the latches holding it to your body and you don’t stop him.

Once removed, Yuta sits in the shadow of where it used to lay on the bed and gently props it up against the nightstand. You relax back into bed, the pain subsiding from your body. He holds your hand and pulls himself fully onto the bed now, sitting up behind you, placing an arm around you. You adjust your position, leaning on his chest and letting him comfort you.

This is how your relationship with Yuta is. You are closer than just friends, but not allowed to date. If you could date him, you would, but it’s against company policy and you would both lose your positions.

Taeyong had helped you learn how to dance again. He and Johnny would accompany you to the doctors office when you were first getting acquainted with the new technology. Johnny still goes with you to physical therapy and has even gone as far as to help you with home exercised. Taeyong was curious about the technology at first but studied it in order to help you learn better.

He shows a lot of affection towards you, takes you out for dinner and is always saying how pretty you look. When you were first recovering from the accident, he would take you outside to play soccer. Not proper but enough to get you used to the difficult tasks. He was always supportive and was willing to help you get back on your feet.

***

You had bought yourself a pair of Heelys and made the strong decision to learn how to use them proficiently and maybe even cover a dance with them.

You had an implant in the end of your thigh, just above the incision, that acted as a neuro pathway to the prosthetics. This allowed you to consciously use the joints in your mechanical knee and ankle, allowing for better mobility. The first leg was much more advanced in the technology and easier for you to use, but looked very obvious. The second was ordered by Lee Soo Man himself, to give you a better image. It had a realistic cover that made it look real, and it was waterproof so you could swim in it. It made you feel pretty again, you could wear clothes other than pants and go swimming, but it made dancing significantly more difficult. The neuro pathway didn’t reach the ankle joint very well. You have to dance in heals in order to have proper balance. You preferred the metal one, but understood the other was also necessary.

Cherry Bomb quickly went from your favorite performance to the hardest, particularly the killing part at the end. You were one of the people supposed to drop to the floor because you were so flexible, but the balance of it became an issue. You always fell too early and would hit the ground too hard. Yuta offered to switch your positions which made you upset at first, but gave you time to perfect it again.

It wasn’t a difficult change and it would put you closer to the center at the end, but surely the fans would notice and it would hurt your pride a little. But you weren’t confident in the split part either. You practiced more by yourself or with someone else like Taeyong or Yuta in the room, but you never practiced together. So whenever you would work on that part, you would get about halfway down, then fall either onto your hands or back on your butt. You just couldn’t figure out the balance. You never even considered what it would be like as a group.

You hadn’t practiced older songs with the other members in a while, unable to actually perform, but when all nine of you were together, it was different. Your ability to dance the first part of Cherry Bomb wasn’t a problem at all, but you became nervous when you approached the ending. The switch with Yuta was smooth, unwavering, flawless. And when you formed the line down the center of the room, Taeyong turned his head to check on you, you nodded to him inconspicuously. He reached behind his back and grabbed your right hand lightly, placing it across his left shoulder, offering you stability in the front. He then glanced farther back to Yuta who also nodded to him in understanding. He softly placed his own hand in the curve of back pushing slightly when you starting to lean backwards.

Between the two of them, you had perfect stability and balance to move all the way to the correct position. A wide smile beamed on your face as the song ended and you turned to them both. “How does that work?” Taeyong inquired. All you do is hug him, then Yuta after. Gratitude filled you as you felt whole again. You were back.

[imaginesfromtheupsidedown]

Oldest Friend

A TMR/TDC Gally x FEMcharacter

hello hi again lol. it’s been over two years I believe since I last posted (I got locked out and finally found a way back in). I took down my first two parts of this Gally imagine, I didn’t like how I originally went with it and had a very long time to go over it lol. Again, I did not read Kill Order, I’ve read all the other 3 books and seen the movies so this was me creating my own character and pairing her with Gally and throwing them into the story, before and after the mazes, as I pictured in my head. Let me know if there’s anything you’d like to see with this story and feedback is appreciated :) I already have multiple parts written for it and they’re all pretty lengthy so if lengthy isn’t your cup of tea I’m sorry but that’s just how I write.

Triggers: as of rn I don’t think there are any but lmk if I need to put one :)

word count: 4306 (again, I’ve always written lengthy stuff and can shorten or add more to the next ones if preferred, I just always want to make sure the backstory and details that are in my head get put in)

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At first this was all so scary. They were ripped from their families and taken to a WCKD facility where they lived in dorm-like rooms and forced into classes and to push themselves in ways they never had before. None of them really understood why they were there. Of course, they had been told a watered down story of why they were there. But they still didn’t get it. Some of it started to make more sense as they got older, their days consisting less of their in-class studies and more of “hands on” learning.

As memories of their families and old lives faded, they started to get comfortable with their new skills they had acquired. Some excelled more academically than others and some excelled more physically, which made it easier to sort them where WCKD needed them. They usually saw each other when it was time to eat, about a hundred teens packed into a giant cafeteria. But otherwise they were usually kept around the others who they “worked” with or shared their rooms with.

They all had met the first day in the new facility, around 7 and 8 years old. They were ushered into a classroom with all white walls and flooring, with matching uniforms and scared expressions. That’s when they were given their new names and the purpose of why they were there. As time went on they formed their little friend bubbles, and still ate together now that they spend their days apart.

They were the closest thing to best friends as they could possibly be in that place. Newt, Minho, Alby, Gally, and Siggy. A few of them even got to bunk together. They usually sat with a few of the people who worked in the labs and facilities crew now, who they had met way back when in that empty classroom. Sitting around eating, laughing, telling stories, venting, and hanging out as teens should.

The two of them that were the closest were Gally and Meghan. If you were to ask anyone in the group they would probably have said that the two were acquaintances at most; Meghan was on the softer side and barely spoke, while Gally was usually picking fun at everyone and the most talkative of them all.

Gally was one of the kids who turned out to be physically inclined. He spent his days building things and with the construction crew. At first it was just a lot of lifting and the occasional construction of small buildings or labs. But lately they’ve had the crew traveling out into the desert to landscape and start to put the walls of their arenas together.

Meghan was someone who had great focus with her work and was shuffled into the labs with the likes of Thomas and Teresa. Occasionally she would spend time in the medical wing as Teresa’s shadow, but her specialty was coding. She was someone they counted on when the computer systems would crash or help them to create new programs to help further their studies. They usually tried to spend s couple days a week in the medwing, and that’s exactly when she had her first encounter with Gally outside of their little bubble….

“Gally! That’s enough!” she scolded him, pushing him into the nearest exam room and into a chair. He scowled at her while he started to roll his sleeve up. “There are other people in here, too. Besides, we usually respond to ‘please-and-thank-you’s’ better.”

“Just need it cleaned…” he mumbled. The gash in his arm went from his elbow halfway to his wrist, and there were a few splinters around it that she had to pick out before she could do anything else. He sat expressionless while she worked, biting the inside of his cheek.

“So. What’d you do this time, clumsy?” she asked, trying to keep him distracted from what she was doing.

“Some dumbass didn’t secure the lumber right while we were loading the burgs… whole thing just crashed down on us while we were trying to move it. Figured it would hurt my arm a hell of a lot less that it would my head.” He huffed. She pursed her lips and kept digging the splinters out of his arm. He wasn’t wrong about that. Stitching up an arm is a million times better than unzipping a body bag.

After all the digging was done the wound was fairly easy to clean so she began to stitch it up, his leg bouncing up and down as she started. When she’d catch him glancing at her she would try to give him an apologetic smile, but he’d just turn away. Toward the wider part of the gash is when he couldn’t help but wince away.

“Here, sit still for a sec, okay?” she got up and got the numbing cream but he grabbed her with his good arm.

“Just stitch it already! What, you think I can’t take it?” his cheeks were flushed. She plopped back down and took a big scoop of it anyways, giving him a stern look.

“Gally, I mean this in the nicest way. Shut up.” His cheeks flushed again and he turned away, but he was visibly less tense as she started to smooth the cream around his arm. “Feel alright now?”

“Mmhmm.” He sighed, leaning back and closing his eyes. She finished up the rest and instructed him on how to keep it clean and when to come back to get them removed. “You act like these are the first stitches I’ve ever gotten, Meg.” He laughed, earning an eye roll and giggle from her.

“Hey, just gotta be able to say I told you.” She pulled his arm back toward her and inspected her work while he stayed slumped in his chair. It already looked so much better than when he walked in. She mindlessly ran her fingers up and down the underneath of his arm while she looked, and after a few moments he bolted straight up and yanked himself away from her.

“The hell are you doing?” he mumbled, crossing his arms. She turned and started to clean everything up to hide her red cheeks. After a few awkward seconds of silence he sighed, “Sorry, just irritable I guess.”

“I.. it’s fine. Here-” she walked over to the exam room door and shut it, then closed the blinds. “Go ahead and lock the door after me, I’ll give you the room and say I gave you pain meds that knocked you out. Should get you at least a few hours for a nice nap. If you want.” She reached for the handle when he caught her arm.

“Hey… thanks Meg.” They both blushed as his hand lingered. “I promise not to be a big ol’ jerk next time.” She laughed and opened the door.

“Just keep the door locked and don’t tell on us.” With one last little smile she closed the door behind her.

“Hey, Meg.” Gally breathed, slamming his dinner tray on the table. She jumped at the noise, then gave him a grin.

“Gally.” A familiar blush crept up on his face. They both looked away and began picking at their food while everyone was talking. Siggy was going on and on about his latest attempts in the kitchen, getting a laugh from everyone. They joined into different conversations, occasionally stealing glances at one another before quickly looking away again.

They all started standing up and taking their trays toward the dirty bins. After she dumped her plates and slid them into the dirty dish shoot, she turned and made eye contact with Gally, only to glance away again to tell them all goodnight. When Gally went to wave to her she saw him wiggle his fingers. She was very used to their little signal but her heart still jumped a beat every time. She gave him a smile and waved back, wiggling her fingers right back at him. He cracked a huge smile and headed off back toward the boy’s hall, sneaking one more look before going through the double doors.

Just a little longer, she told herself. This was how she and Gally spent most of their nights. They’d go back to their rooms, go through the motions of getting ready for bed. Showering, brushing their teeth, putting on their pajamas, gossiping with their roommates, etc. Then they’d wait for everyone to be asleep and make their way to an empty hallway. The hall was basically used for storage, and no one was ever there after hours. The only reason they even new it existed was because they had stumbled upon it by chance one day. Of course, Meghan watched it for days to make sure that no one frequented the area and even still checks the security cameras every morning to make sure that no one would get close to catching them out of bed that late. Luckily she also spotted that a corner of the hall, the corner right next to the door, was covered in a shadow and couldn’t be seen by the cameras from that angle.

Soon, her room was filled with light snores. Very, very quietly she slid out of her bed and pulled the covers back over the pillow. When she got to the door she glanced one more time around the room, then tip toed out into the hall and shut it softly behind her. Staying as close to the wall as possible she made her way toward the labs.

When you look at the security footage almost every day, you soon realize where the blind spots are. It wasn’t too hard for her to stay out of the view of the cameras. All she needed to do was stay close to the wall, in the shadows and in the corners. Since the hall they met in was basically abandoned, there was only one camera that aimed down the middle of it. She cracked the door and slid through it, quickly but quietly closing it behind her. It always made her feel so bad ass when she would get there and back without being caught. That feeling, along with her soul, left her body when someone grabbed her from behind. She started to scream but a hand clamped around her mouth before she could.

“You trying to get us caught!” Gally whispered. He let her go and she relaxed, giving him a playful punch. Neither could help the smiles on their faces. This was their favorite, hiding in this dusty room. They would sit and talk for hours. They gave each other the comfort they knew WCKD would never give them or care if they got. There was something about being around each other that made everything okay.

They went over every second of their day. The good, the bad, the sad, the frustrating. Everything. Gally was in the middle of ranting about having to spend all day in the desert when he tapered off. She gave him a silly look as he reached over, taking a stray hair and tucking it behind her ear. She felt her cheeks get hot as he kept looking at her. After the longest second of her life he jumped right back into was he was saying. Talking, joking, dreaming, complaining. The rest of the night she felt half there; half of her listening, half of her stuck in that moment where he was touching her.

They sat there for a bit longer before he glanced at his watch, frowning and standing up. She was definitely ready for bed but didn’t want to leave their own little hide away. He must’ve read her mind because he gave her a little smirk and reached his hand out for her.

“C’mon, Meg, you know we can’t stay here all night.” He pulled her up quicker than she expected, causing her to trip right into his chest. This time both their cheeks went red and she gave him a little push.

“Geeeeez, Gal, you trying to help me up or rip my arm off!” she headed toward the door and he grabbed her hand, twirling her as they went.

“Hey, why not though? An extra arm would come in pretty handy out there.” He teased, earning a slap-happy giggle from her. They stared at each other for a few silent moments, neither of them knowing what to say. She knew they’d have to head back to their rooms if they wanted to get any sleep at all.

“Ugh… yeah we should go.” She mumbled, motioning toward the door. He nodded his head and shrugged, reaching his arm toward her. Her heart jumped; she could feel her pulse quicken. She stretched her arms right back toward him, wrapping them around his waist and resting her head on his chest. He froze for a second before resting his arms around her.

“Uhh.. thank you?” he chuckled. Her heart dropped and the heat returned to her cheeks; he wasn’t reaching to hug her… he was reaching for the door. She gave herself an internal kick in the ass before letting go. Of course, she just had to make it awkward. But a small part of her was over-the-moon. They both slid out the door, sticking to the shadows. They shared a final look at each other and mouthing their goodnights, taking off back to their own hallways and into their own rooms again.

Her mind raced as she snuggled into her covers, trying to dissect everything she was feeling. Why the hell was he making her so nervous? He hadn’t been acting any different… but… maybe it wasn’t Gally who was different? Maybe it was her who had changed... noticed new things about him… FELT different things about him…

Snap out of it! She told herself Even if he were to see her in the same light as she saw him, what sort of time could they possibly have together? WCKD had every intention of moving forward with their newest generation of captives, of sending them into a terrifying and uncertain future. Why start ANYTHING when it’ll most likely end in heartbreak? And that’s assuming WCKD would even allow there to even be “anything”.

A few hallways over Gally was tossing and turning in his bed, unable to find a comfortable way to lay. The same things were flying through his mind; how he had been painfully aware of how beautiful she was when she laughed, or how excited she got when she talked about the things she liked, and the way she always knew exactly how to handle him. Sad, angry, happy, or hurt she was always the one who knew him best and how to make everything okay again. From what he could remember from what their teachers had told them, their lives here were only temporary. A lump formed in his throat when he thought of them going their separate ways. He had to do it, he had to tell her was had been on his mind. He thought of the first time they met in that room, their room, as he drifted to sleep.

He slammed the medblab door open, looking around wildly.

“Where’s Meg.” He demanded, sweat dripping down his blood red face. Everyone just kind of glanced around at each other and shrugged, not really knowing what to say. He let out an exaggerated sigh and then stormed out, making sure to slam the door behind him. He made a beeline for the labs. She was the only one he wanted to talk to. He could just see the laboratory doors but just before he could go in she busted out of them.

“Gally!” she hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the side. “What the hell are you doing! Why did the medbay just call here-“

“Well had they just told me where you were like I had asked they wouldn’t have had to call!” he yelled, trying to yank his arm away from her. She took off down the hall, pulling him behind her.

“Talk. Now.” He began to tell her everything about his day, right up to where someone really, really messed up. Not only did someone load one of the buses wrong but everything came spilling out of it on the road. Not only that, but seconds later the same guy crashed that bus right into a tree. Gally had been the first one up there to check on the guy and it turned out the guy, Jeff, had fallen asleep at the wheel, and when everyone else got there Jeff was quick to flip his story and blamed Gally for the whole thing.

“And so now I’m in huge trouble for wrecking a bus and destroying equipment that someone else ruined!” he ranted. She waited patiently, nodding along to the things he had let build up inside of him until he was ready to explode. They ended up in the cafeteria and sitting down at one of the empty tables. He realized he had been holding his breath and slowly let it all out.

“Are you okay, Gal?” she finally said, earning a confused look from him.

“Wha-?” he breathed.

“Are you okay, Gally? Like, what can I do to help? Or to take your mind off of it?” she kept her voice soft and even. He was at a loss for words, he didn’t really expect her to care. Just to listen and tell him he was being a hot-head and to go back to work and forget about it. She took his silence as an okay to keep going. “Look, you need to take a breather. That guy was wrong for pinning that on you but also you need to know that nothing is going to happen to you. You’re one of, if not their best, guy out there and they need that. Also, we need to come up with a way for you to calm down when these things happen. There’s no need to be slamming doors and scaring the poor kids in the medwing, okay? Letting everything build up like that and exploding isn’t healthy, either.”

“Yes.” Was all he could think of. He felt silly, rushing all the way over to her for something so petty. Something he could’ve settled himself… She placed a hand on his arm.

“Look, if you want to come and vent to me, I’ll always have time to listen. But no more outbursts. Just… promise you won’t let things bottle up anymore, yeah?” he pursed his lips at her.

“Do you mean it?” wow. He had never felt so dumb in his life. But he also craved having someone to talk to. Someone to listen to her. The someone that she was offering to be.

“100%.” She smiled. Standing up, she reached for his hand. He jokingly rolled his eyes and took it, hopping up next to her. “Now, don’t make me have to trek across this building and kick your ass for slamming doors.”

Since they were the first ones in the cafeteria they went ahead and got their food. Everyone started sitting down when they were halfway done with their dinner, questioning why they were there so early. He gave her an apologetic look as he told everyone some tale about having to unload stuff at the lab and how they were done early, blah blah blah. She tried to suppress a couple laughs, giving him a wink while she took a bite. His cheeks went bright pink as he looked back down, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He was very grateful to finally have found a friend.

Dinner had been going well, everyone was in a good mood and it felt like a million pounds had been lifted off his shoulders compared to earlier. At some point she threw a sarcastic compliment at him, starting a playful back and forth between them and earning laughs from the rest of the group. He smiled back at her, opening his mouth to say something, but then Jeff walked by.

“Aww, hey there, Gally. Good to see your little doctor finally has you under control.” Jeff teased him, patting Meghan on the back; she recoiled from his touch and shot him a hateful look. She went to say something but Gally was already on his feet, bumping chests with him and ready.

“Don’t touch her again.” He commanded lowly, pushing Jeff away from the table. All that earned him was a silent cafeteria and a laugh from Jeff.

“Maybe…” Jeff said, dropping his voice low. “she wants me to, huh?” he got right back in Gallys face. Meghan let out a hard laugh, shaking her head no when everyone glanced at her.

“See? She’s too smart for that. Now,” Gally broadened his shoulders and towered over Jeff. “like I said, don’t touch her again.” He turned and went to sit back down.

“Or what? You’ll punch another hole in a wall? Yeah, I’m terrified dude.” laughed Jeff. Meghan shot Gally a look, which he wouldn’t return. Jeff was still laughing as he was walking away, calling over his shoulder, “Or maybe you’ll just storm off to the medlabs to cry to your little doctor about it again.” Before he could stop himself, Gally jumped right back up from the table and lunged at him. It was a full-blown fight, some of the guys near them trying to step in and break it up while everyone else was scrambling to get out of the way. He heard her voice over everyone else’s, but he didn’t know what she was saying. All he knew was that he was pissed and had been waiting for this moment. Newt and Siggy got them apart for a second but before he could lunge again she appeared before him, shoving him as hard as she could but only causing him to take a step back.

“GO.” She hissed. He was confused and his adrenaline was still pumping, so she dug her nails into his arm and started pulling him toward a hallway. She kept walking, dragging him for seemed like forever before stopping dead in her tracks. “What the hell was THAT!” she whispered angrily.

“What!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “You can’t tell me he didn’t have that comin-”

“I don’t care! That was some bullshit and you know it.” She scolded him, her cheeks turning pink. “He’s an idiot, always has been and always will be. I’m talking about how you literally said you were going to start trying to not let stuff get to you, and now you’ll BOTH be dealing with consequences. You know how they are with shit like that…”

“Alright, and how is that your problem?” he retorted, stepping forward and towering over her. Her expression went hard and she stepped up to him, catching him off guard.

“Excuse me?” she said flatly, using both hands to shove him again. “You’re kidding me right now, right? Alright. Yeah, you’re right. This is NOT my problem. Sorry for looking out for you.” Her voice got quieter and she turned to storm off, but he grabbed her wrist and spun her back around.

“I didn’t ask you to look out for me, Meg!” he almost didn’t let her go. She yanked her hand away, tears in her eyes.

“Yep. Got it. Just sit there and listen and baby you but don’t actually care or look out for you or call you out for it. Understood.” She turned again, walking away. He knew he was being a dick and couldn’t just let her walk away. Before she could get far he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into an empty storage room, locking the door behind him. “Gally wha-”

He took two strides and was right in front of her, pulling her in and hugging her tight. She was frozen at first but when he didn’t move she slowly wrapped her arms around his waist. He was shaking while he held her so she rubbed a hand up and down the small of his back. Tears started falling over the brims of his eyes.

“I’m sorry…” he whispered. She didn’t say anything, knowing he must’ve really meant it for him to be expressing himself like that. “I’m stupid, I’m impulsive, I let me anger get the best of me and I’m sorry. Please don’t give up on me…” she felt a lump in the back of her throat.

“Shh..” she hugged him hard for a second before pushing him back. “I have a promise for you, okay? I’ll be here, like I told you earlier. But no more of that shit. How about.. after lights out? If it’s a bad day just… I don’t know, wiggle your fingers?” she got him to laugh as she showed him what she meant. “ I don’t know… just a little signal or something. We can meet and I’ll listen and I’ll try to help any way I can, or even just keep your mind off of things.” He opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off. “But.”

“But?”

“You pull any stunts like you just did, I won’t.” she was stern, but wouldn’t meet his eyes. She wasn’t even done getting the words out before he was shaking his head, ready to agree to whatever it was the conditions were. He had always found it hard to have a genuine connection with anyone, so now that he found someone so kind and wanting to be his friend he couldn’t pass that up. Not in a place like this.

She gave him a small smile and a shove, motioning for the door. “C’mon, jerk. We’ve got some ass kissing to do if you wanna avoid getting in trouble.”

[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Turning Tables (Five White Christmas’ That Changed It All)

#1

(WARNING: mentions of an eating disorder but any triggers really might just depend on knowing the difference between Anorexia Nervosa and Anorexia)

The snow falls in large clumps. They fly into his eyelashes, soak into his hair. He could bask in their heavy downfall but his mother’s hand is tight. Urgently, she shuffles him away from the limelight. The shuttering cameras, voices calling out to them. They ask questions the others fear to think, to feel. 

Gil is right behind them, locking the car, and following right through his mother’s man-made path. It takes both of them to get Malcolm’s frail body up the stairs. Gil senses Jessica's anxieties, understanding that she wants her son away from the reporters on the doorstep quickly.

Gil moved quickly and Malcolm’s sucks in a sharp breath as he’s suddenly swept off his feet. He rests against Gil’s warm, solid chest. Letting the man carry him bridal style into the house. His eyes glued to the sky and the snow. 

He’s skeletal. Sick. Anorexic. Jessica fights each diagnosis because surely there’s nothing wrong with her son. Yet, skin and bones he remains. Hallow eyes and gaunt cheeks. A ghost of the boy they once knew. Nothing now, a teenager numb and dying. 

“Easy,” Gil’s voice has never been so soft, so sincerely afraid. He lays Malcolm onto the couch, smiling as he tucks a blanket to just under his chin. “Get some rest, kiddo.” Gil presses a kiss to his son’s forehead. Whisking away stray hair from his face. He gives him a soft wink,” Jackie made your favorite.”

Malcolm smiles. Even if the thought stirs neither hunger or nausea. Indifference… it'll be the death of him.

He waits for Gil to leave. Counting the seconds that pass until he hears no more movement. He wills his aching body into motions. Shuffling, leaning heavily on the back of the couch until he can stumble for the window seal. He lets out a broken laugh, the air caught in his chest but his smile still bright. Hopeful.

“Mal?” Ainsely appears from the shadow near the door. Her head is cocked to the side and curious, observing him with intuitive eyes. She crosses the space between them quickly, easily. Coming to stand by his side, she looks out the window too. “It’s snowing.”

Malcolm hums in agreeance, reaching out to steady himself against the window seal when his knees tremble weakly beneath him. The glass is cold, it feels like life streaming into his veins. He moves his palm to the window, sighing happily as the cold bites the sensitive flesh there. 

“I think Mommy is sad,” Ainsely tells him. She reaches up so her fingers are just below his, touching the same space of glass as he is. “She cries a lot,” she shivers under the cold chill of the air but follows it with a laugh. “I miss you.”

Malcolm looks down at his little sister. Her eyes aren’t startlingly blue like his. Her’s have always been a smarter, calculating brown. Even now as she’s frowning up at him, her eyes are watching him. Observing him. 

“I’ve missed you too.”

Ainsley grins brightly,” really! Does that mean you’ll come home now?”

Malcolm looks back out the window. Guilt weighing heavy on his chest. He wants to and he’s the only person stopping himself from coming home. It feels like he has no control over his own body, his own feelings. He looks down at his little sister, her eyes grinning as much as her smile. So he nods, he can’t tell her no. He refuses to think about telling her that maybe he can’t. 

Ainsely throws her arms around his boney hips, burying her head into his oversized sweater. She squeezes his hips,” I’m glad you’re coming home.”

Malcolm looks back out the window, hugging Ainsely back. The snow keeps coming down, thick and cold. He decides that if Ainsely can believe in him if she can still be good and innocent despite their father then maybe he can try harder. He’ll try and maybe it won’t be for himself but it still counts. “Me too, Ains.”

(not sure if I’m going to get this done by Christmas... What I wouldn't give to be able to write rn)

[hellimagines]

The Sun v. The Moon -- James Patrick March

*My masterlist link can be found in my blog description*

Request: “Hey love! If your requests are still open- could you write an imagine where the reader is pissed off at how the countess treats James and how they try to convince him to finally be cared for as a priority and not an afterthought? -fluff and smut?” @bittenbeloved

Summary: After James and The Countess get in another fight, he finally comes to his senses about their relationship.

Warnings: Hints of domestic abuse

Pairing: James Patrick March x fem!reader

Word Count: 700+

A/N: I’m not writing smut rn, so that won’t be apart of the story. This is also super short, and more platonic than it is romantic.

You sat at a secluded table in the Blue Parrot Lounge, overlooking the hotel lobby. Your body sat comfortably in the plushy, red chairs as you silently twirled a straw around the ice-cubes in your cup of scotch. Down below, in the lobby, you could see The Countess and James March in the middle of a typical, heated discussion. He was flailing his arms about, causing his cane to whip through the air with each motion. She was standing stoic and still, her clawed fingers twitching at her side. You couldn’t make out what exactly they were talking about, too far away to understand their voices, but you guessed it was nothing new. Just another Wednesday at The Hotel Cortez.

Elizabeth raised her hand, finally, becoming too fed up with James’ words and heartbroken expression. She pressed the edge of a dagger-shaped fingernail against his jawline and swiped it against his flesh. If James could bleed, you were positive he’d be dripping blood onto his pristine suit. You narrowed your eyes at the dysfunctional ex-couple and watched in dangerous silence as The Countess took her leave, waltzing out of the hotel without so much as a glance back. James stood frozen for a moment, his palm cradling his jaw before he instinctively raised his eyes to meet yours. With a simple wave, James was already sat across from you, scowling down at the table.

“What was it this time?” you questioned your best friend, taking a tentative sip from your glass. The scotch burned your tongue as you swallowed, but being dead meant you would take the burn over the numb any day.

James sighed, lifting his gaze to meet yours once again. “She’s trying to sell the hotel day once again. Despite her death, she’s still been an over-growing nuisance.”

“And to think you once thought she was the sun,” you laughed bitterly, finishing off your glass before sliding it to the side.

“She still is the sun,” he mourned, pulling at his cufflinks. “But I don’t need the sun anymore. I need the moon.” You furrowed your brows at his confession, leaning forward slightly. “She’s burnt me out, and taken all my love with her. If I stay by her side any longer, I may just wither away. I need my moon to bask me in the darkness once again, to cool down my scorched heart and restore its love.”

“But are you going to finally fly away? Are you going to remain on the sun, burning, or make your escape to the moon? She’s never loved you, James, and you know it. All she wanted was your fortune- your namesake. She used you the same way she used Donovan, Tristan, and that designer guy. Stop putting yourself through this torture. You’re the torturer, not her, and it’s time you start fucking acting like it.” By the end of your rant, you were white-knuckling the table, staring at James with a hard expression. “Find your damn moon, and move on.”

“Language, dear,” James spoke softly, staring at you in awe. Nobody had ever stuck up for him the way you just did; The Countess simply bossed him around and ridiculed him, and even Ms. Evers would cower away at the slightest rise in his voice. He didn’t know how to respond to such affection.

“You’re worth me than she could ever offer you. Just listen to me and step away from her,” you pleaded, reaching across the table to grab ahold of his hands. “Please.”

James searched your eyes for a moment before he slowly nodded. “Let us find my moon.”

--

All Writing Taglist (OPEN): @teageowen @mads---world @alex--awesome--22 @hxdesworld @frozenhuntress67 @samanthasmileys @simonsaysyasss @marvelismylifffe @bademliimagnum @michael-langdxn @wherewecangazeintothestars

American Horror Story Taglist (OPEN): @featherpool-852 @sophster1881

[ahomeganeyatsu]

Because I needed to write something after I saw that couch in the common room.

— Rn

Title: Another Wednesday

Pairing: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant

Word Count: 1, 534

Lucas steps into the common room with a bit of trepidation. The curtains are drawn, bathing the room in a state of dimness. He spots the white sheet covering the floor near the wall where the god awful mural still remained. The cans of paint, still unopened, sit where he had left them last time. It’s been a week since Daphné had told the headmaster they were repainting the mural and the lack of progress isn’t sitting well with her. She finally put her foot down last Tuesday and pestered Lucas about the damned thing. He didn’t understand why he ended up being the target of her ire. Eliott should be at the receiving end of those disapproving eyes as much as he was. He was the one that offered to repaint the mural. Lucas was only the smitten fool that wanted to spend time with him.

It’s probably because she has a crush on him, he thinks with a little frown. He can’t exactly blame her. Eliott’s a handsome guy—drop dead gorgeous really. He’s the kind that never failed to catch anyone’s attention. His beauty bordered on surreal and with the accompanying gentle and friendly disposition, he’s bound to gather the interests of girls and boys alike. Lucas still couldn’t believe he had actually kissed him. Had Eliott sleeping on his bed, had held and been held by him, and knew how his touch, his lips, his skin, tasted and felt against his own. He feels the skin just at the base of his nape tingle. The memory making way for a blush to steal itself on his cheeks. He remembers the looks that Mika and Manon had exchanged and couldn’t help the groan slipping past his lips. The blush intensifies and the desire to hide his face and never show it again rears its head.

Lucas knows that they know now. I mean, when you see a guy comes out from one of your roommates’ bedroom and said roommate walks around with a large bruise sucked on his neck a few hours later, insists that they were good friends and becomes defensive without any prompting, there’s only one logical inference you would make. Honestly, he should have checked first if Eliott had left any marks before braving the outside world. He wouldn’t have ended up looking like an idiot then. The only silver lining he had was the fact that Manon and Mika hadn’t mentioned anything. Which, really, is more than Lucas could ask for.

And with Eliott’s continuing absence, Lucas just isn’t ready to talk about it.

He’s not sure why he hasn’t messaged Eliott. He has his number. He could just open up his Telegram and send him a quick message. Ask how he was doing, see if he was free to hangout, tell him how he much he misses him and wants to see him badly.

But he hasn’t. He couldn’t seem to make his fingers tap out a simple message.

Ever since he woke up that Saturday afternoon, all he did was lie in bed, listen to music and stare at the opened conversation with Eliott on his phone. He waits. And waits. And waits. But the screen doesn’t change.

No new message appears.

Eliott remains absent.

The glowing warmth inside his chest dims and slowly ceases to exist. He feels numb all over. The hours he had spent with Eliott feels more like a dream more than anything. He aches but all he could do is stare sightlessly at his ceiling. When night came, he gave the room back to Manon. He wasn’t that bothered when they stayed late in the living room watching TV. He has long recognized the sign of a sleepless night.

It’s been four days and sleep still proves itself elusive. So far, the only rest he got was a couple stolen minutes in between classes and the small hours in the early morning. It was finally getting to him, the exhaustion settling deep in his bones and accompanying him the rest of the way. He doesn’t want to stay in school for much longer. In fact, he wanted to at least grab a few hours on his bed. Manon had insisted he use it and Lucas was too damn tired to argue. Unfortunately, Daphné had other ideas.

Which is how he found himself standing in the middle of the common room on a Wednesday afternoon. Daphné wanted the mural repainted and she wasn’t taking any of Lucas’ excuses anymore. He would have admitted by then that he had lied and had no fucking idea how to paint—unless you counted the several articles he had read on mural painting and the point-by-point wikiHow article on repainting a wall (He has them bookmarked but no one needs to know that). But by some chance, or divine orchestration if he were to believe in such a thing, his phone pinged of a message received that Tuesday. And lo and behold, it was from Eliott.

Are you free Wednesday at 13h?

Daphné wants us to start on repainting the mural, preferably this week.

Lucas had no idea how to feel. He had stared at his phone for several minutes. Just reading and re-reading the message. He remembered the first time they scheduled meeting up in school. Remembered sitting there and waiting for more than an hour, only for Eliott not to show up. The disappointment weighed heavily in his stomach, the anger at himself biting and burning and the hurt pierced his heart like a million tiny needles. But he also remembered the sight of Eliott with dark bruises under his eyes. The sound of his raspy voice. The state of his hair from messily styled to a clear representation of his anxious hands. He could vividly see Eliott’s subdued self, along with the sincerity in his eyes and the little smile on his face as he asked Lucas for forgiveness. He wasn’t sure what was going on with Eliott, but Lucas knew he at least deserved to be given the benefit of the doubt.

There was also one thing he was indubitably certain of: He wanted to see Eliott, badly.

So, with shaking thumbs, he typed out, “Yeah, I’ll see you then,” and sent it. Eliott replied with a picture of a raccoon, looking happy and sending out a flying kiss. Lucas couldn’t stop the smile from etching itself on his lips.

Like that Wednesday, Lucas arrived half an hour earlier than the stated time. He was hoping that Eliott was already there but sadly, he wasn’t.

It’s been five minutes since and the exhaustion from his lack of sleep is making itself known. Lucas knows he’s fighting a losing battle with his eyelids. His mouth cracks open with a yawn and tears slide down from the corner of his eyes.

“Fifteen minutes,” he mutters to himself. That should be enough for a power nap. He makes his way to the couch. He’s thankful that Daphné made the effort of cleaning it and providing clean sheets. She may have been a little annoying, but she’s a blessing. He drops his bag on one the other chairs. Daphné would probably be overjoyed that he’s using this the way she intended it to. He flops onto it and curls up; he doesn’t remember falling asleep.

....

In the darkness that surrounded him, a gentle hand on his nape is what grounded him. Long fingers make their way to the short hairs at the base, softly scratching and running through them. The touch rouses Lucas from his dreamless sleep and his eyes slowly flutter open to stare unseeingly. The hand continues to caress his sleep-rumpled tresses and he tries to blink away the last remnants of Hypnos’ hold on his consciousness but it persistently clings. Lucas turns his face where he feels the dip of the added weight. He sees a thigh clad in a familiar pair of dark jeans. His nose is tickled by a familiar scent and he breathes it in. He presses his face to that thigh, closed his eyes once more and lets himself drown in the comfort and safety the touch has begun to instill in him.

“Lucas?” Eliott’s soft melodious voice asks him.

He hums and his hand reaches out to grab Eliott, arm hooking around the taller boy’s middle.

“Lucas come on, wake up for me. This couch can’t be good for your back, let me take you home.” He hears him say but Lucas’ mind has begun to sink into unconsciousness again. The warmth and familiar feel of Eliott’s body bringing him back to that Saturday morning and how easy it was to fall asleep. “Lu?”

“Five more minutes,” he mumbles sleepily.

“Five?”

Lucas grunts. “Five, then we’ll repaint the stupid ugly mural.” He buries his face closer to Eliott’s thigh.

Eliott’s light laughter echoes in the empty room. His long fingers card through Lucas’ hair gently and the younger brunette sighs contently. “Okay,” Eliott acquiesces. “Five more minutes.” Warm breaths ruffles the hair on his forehead before a pair of lips brush against the skin there.

Lucas smiles and for the second time that day, he falls asleep.

[b-rainlet]

Hmmm can I have lunya otp questions

This took very long because I lost it halfway through so I hope you love my Answers anyway (took my like, two hours).

Fun Fact: This is actually 2k.

Which one sexts like a straight white boy?

Not to be repetitive, but….look at Luther…...look at Vanya…...and now tell me who is more likely to channel their inner fuckboy. 

Vanya rarely does it though, because what good would come of texting like that? Luther has no idea how to respond in most cases. 

Vanya: ‘what would u do if i was there with u rn ;)’

Luther: ‘Probably cuddle with you? I miss you.’

Vanya, already on her way to the mansion, sending a dozen heart emojis: ‘Damnit, Luther.’

(Have I mentioned? Luther is fucking clingy. He’s the kind of guy to be in the middle of a conversation with someone and just randomly go ‘I miss my wife’ before he just. Gets up and leaves). 

Sometimes though, Vanya plays around with the fuckboy aesthetic and Luther is into that. 

Vanya, in a snapback and a button up, pants hanging low: ‘Hey Babe ;)’

Luther, hands twisted together: ‘Don’t get a boner, don’t get a boner, don’t get a-’

(Vanya notices anyway. Vanya is also kind enough to indulge him, fucking him still completely dressed, pants falling open around her hips and boxer shorts pushed down, murmuring into Luther’s  ear how cute he looks split open on her cock like that. 

Luther has never come harder in his life).

Which one cried during a fucking disney movie?

Again Luther. I can see Vanya not being as touched by fictional characters because ‘it’s a show/movie’ 

She doesn’t get how Luther can still cry at the same scenes in disney movies even though most of the time, both of them know that it will all work out in the end, they watched this movie twenty times already. 

Much like Ben, I can see Vanya having a hard time controlling her emotions, regulating them like everyone else seems to be able to do. But instead of feeling numb a lot, she just feels everything so much all the time, sometimes she feels like she’s drowning, all this anger and irritation washing over her and making her snappy and overwhelmed. 

It’s a bit like a switch. One second she’s fine and the next, she’s full of rage because the toothpaste fell down. 

One time, Luther woke up to Vanya crying because she realised pigs don’t have thumbs and just...broke down over that. 

Some people see her and call her cold because she doesn’t seem phased by gruesome stuff on tv or tearjerker scenes, she even feels weird around sad people, not sure how to react and mostly uncomfortable (trying not to let their sadness consume her, make her cry too and ending up way too clinical), but her siblings know that she just has a little harder time processing emotions. 

It’s also hard for her relationship because there are days where she’s really clingy and whiny, hanging off of Luther and prone to crying over little stuff, or talking herself into a frenzy over how she’s too ugly for Luther - Luther’s like ‘???? Have you seen me?????’ and that probably makes Vanya cry harder. 

The next, she cannot stand being touched for too long, everything suffocating, even the air around her. Everything’s too loud. 

Those days, she shuts herself in her room and doesn’t let Luther in, barely tolerates him in front of the door, talking to her in hushed whispers, trying to calm her down. 

(Vanya probably gets some noise cancelling headphones from Five as a present or something and they actually help some).

Sometimes she wonders. Wonders why Luther keeps up with all of this. Why he doesn’t just settle for someone easier, someone who doesn’t have a screaming fit when she has a bad day and Luther forgets to put the wet towels away after showering. Someone who would never make him doubt how deeply she feels for him by being icy and throwing ugly words at him, skin itching and blood running hot. 

Luther only shrugs when she asks him. “I love you.”

And that’s that.

Who put a goddamned fork in the microwave?

With this dynamic I can see Luther at least trying to keep himself in check. Like, ‘Vanya is a grown woman living alone and managing her life, she doesn’t need to feel like she has to baby me because I can’t keep myself from doing weird shit’

And then Vanya tells him - slightly drunk and all blushes and giggles - that she did the fork thing before and Luther has the sudden realization that his wife is just as much of a dumbass as he is

He’s even more in love (but also slightly jealous because he wanted to do the fork thing too).

Those two will also do so much weird shit with Vanya’s powers like, wow. 

“Maybe it’s not a good idea to throw around Mum’s good china-” - “Hush Diego, this is important training.” (They use the china like a frisbee, Luther throws it as hard as possible and Vanya tries to stop it before it crashes against the wall. It surprisingly doesn’t break btw. The wall has holes now though, Luther miscalculated his strength a little). 

I mean, what do you expect of the guy who rides a bicycle indoors and the girl who tried to evoke her powers by scrunching up her face and making superhero gestures?

Who does the silly hands-over-the-eyes “Guess who” thing?

Both would love to do it, but it just isn’t possible. 

Luther absolutely cannot sneak up on Vanya. Under no circumstances. Vanya always hears him from a mile away and as soon as he’s standing in the doorway, she’s already looking in his direction, smiling widely. 

It would be frustrating, if Vanya’s happy face wasn’t so adorable

“Do you smile at everyone approaching you like that?” - “Maybe.”

(Vanya doesn’t tell Luther that she only ever smiles wide for him, arms raised for a hug, doesn’t tell him that she’s tuned in on his heartbeat, knows exactly where he is in the house at all times). 

Vanya on the other hand could technically surprise Luther but how the fuck is she supposed to reach her tree of a husband? How could she ever cover his eyes with her hands, she can barely reach his neck. 

It’s annoying because they wanna be cute together but they still make it work. 

Like, when they meet up, when Luther is walking into the living room and Vanya’s sitting on the couch, she just has to lightly touch her cheek, head tilted, and Luther will lean down to give her a kiss. 

(How many times you wanna bet did Vanya turn her head last second to make him kiss her lips instead of her cheek? Because the answer is loads).

Also, if Vanya feels playful, she’ll help the process along a little. 

Luther is walking towards her and suddenly he will feel a pull, and before he knows it, he’s nose to nose with Vanya, her powers keeping him in place as she smirks and kisses his nose. 

I want Vanya to casually flaunt her powers in general and Luther is totally in awe. Vanya pulls Luther’s head down by simply tilting her head, watches as his eyes go dark before pushing him back lightly, just when he’s about to reach out to her. 

(They play a little game of tag that’s mostly Luther trying to get Vanya into his arms while Vanya playfully dodges him, meets his outstretched hands with an invisible wall, let’s him work for it, before pulling him into her arms. You know, the usual superhero shenanigans).

Who puts their cold hands/feet on their partner?

Vanya. I said it before and I say it again: Luther has bad circulation. That means he’s pretty much always cold so it would make sense for him to do so but I feel like with him, it’s more like Vanya deliberately takes his hands/cuddling up to him to keep him warm, while Vanya - who rarely ever gets really cold - likes just pushing her hands under Luther’s shirt and onto his stomach, snuggling up to him still in her jacket, just stepping into their little flat and immediately pressing her cold nose between Luther’s shoulder blades. He wears so many layers, when Vanya’s freezing to the bone, even Luther feels warm. 

Luther doesn’t complain, doesn’t feel how cold Vanya really is. His perception to temperatures is fucked

(One time he touched a hot plate and didn’t even notice until he saw the angry, red marks left on his hand).

Who had that embarassing Reality TV marathon?

I would like to say neither. Luther can get into Reality TV if his partner is into it and they occasionally end up watching it, but Vanya is very much a book person and if they watch anything trashy, she probably enjoys shitty horror movies (that still make Luther cuddle up to her in fear).

Other than that, Vanya loves really fucked up thrillers. Especially if they're chinese (there’s one where a girl gets killed and a bunch of other girls are so traumatized, they all grow up majorly fucked up). 

Those, Vanya watches alone though. Luther tried to watch with her but he got so scared, he couldn’t sleep anymore. For at least a week. 

(They had to keep a light on and Luther was fucking embarassed about it but Vanya didn’t complain). 

Also, when they do watch horror movies together, they always watch something funny after. Luther is a big fan of romantic comedies. Vanya not so much. 

(She thinks it’s cute when Luther gets overly invested though, loves it when he pulls her closer and kisses the top of her head when the couple on screen confesses how much they love each other. 

It may make Vanya blush. A lot).

Who laughs more during sex?

Neither laugh that much. I mean, smiling and happy giggling are a given - as I would like to believe in every relationship - but I guess they aren’t as much goofy as they are emotional during sex. 

Their sex is always intense because it’s always about crazy amounts of trust those two show each other, trust that had to slowly be rebuild after the apocalypse and it’s not unusual for them to cry, to let their emotions get the best of them, tears falling onto cheeks as both of them whisper love confession in the dark. 

Luego is awkward conversations and funny accidents and big fights that end in make out sessions.

Benther is soft kisses and love confessions and the feeling of fingers running through short hair. 

Lunya is- Lunya is Love.

Lunya is the warm feeling in your heart, looking in your partner’s eyes and thinking: ‘This. This is how it will be. This is forever.’

WHO IS THE LITTLE SPOON?

They switch. It depends on how they are feeling. 

Sometimes Vanya can’t bare the pressure of someone’s arm around her, holding her down, suffocating her. 

Sometimes she needs to feel in control, she needs to be able to pull Luther close, have him curl around her, trying to fit into her arms. This is hers, she won’t ever let him go. 

Luther is fine in either position. He lives for making Vanya happy, and if you’d ask the little selfish part of himself, he loves how safe he feels in Vanya’s arms. Vanya could keep him safe. Vanya will keep him safe.

(Luther wants to curl up in Vanya’s arms forever). 

[loki-fanfic-whore]

They Call Me Medic ch.6

Warnings- blood, gore, adult situations

@drakesfiance @tarithenurse @kimanne723

Chapter 6 Surprise

Alesana PoV

I groaned as I sat up stiffly from the couch. My muscles were very tense as I stretched trying to alleviate my discomfort. I stood and shuffled sleepily into the bathroom; I combed my fingers through my hair, relieved my aching bladder, and then washed my hands.

Opening the medicine cabinet I pulled out two pill bottles and took both pills.

It was a morning routine I would never be able to break.

Trying to calm my already racing mind I sat on my bed and grabbed my charging phone.

37 texts

1 missed phone call

I never looked at my texts...it was always people who wanted something from me, but I found myself checking them.

Texts from fast food places.

Couple of texts from a college friend.

17 texts from Andrew. (My ex...asshole)

Random texts from unknown numbers.

I didn't even have the mental strength to look so I clicked to the voicemail that was waiting.

"Hey Ally-....its Evelyn...I'm gonna need you to come in...The female patient in 109 is having a hard time and Eva wants you specifically to work with her." I could hear a small tremble in her voice. I groaned as the message ended. Looking at the time I received the voicemail I realized I was going to have to work on my day off.

I swept my hair up into a bun and began to get ready.

I stepped into our unit to what looked like a smoothly running shift. Walking over to Evelyn I tapped the nurses station.

"I was summoned?" I asked suspiciously.

Evelyn's head jerked up and her eyes were wide.

"Y-yes...someone tried to o.d. 109. Eva wants you on her as the personal RN." My eyes widened.

"O.D her? On what?!" I kept my voice low.

"Did her guardian get notified?" I spoke above a whisper. Evelyn's knuckles were white as she gripped Alice's chart.

"Not yet...I was hoping you would." She lifted her voice and cleared her throat.

"Its all there. Since you are an add on for this shift I will have you doing invasive care for 109 only." She made her words loud enough the techs and nurses bustling about would hear.

I took the chart and walked towards the small girls room.

I could hear the monitors buzzing beeping and whizzing. I looked at her with pity in my eyes. She was so small and meek, I couldn't help but feel bad for her. I sat my bag and the chart down in a nearby chair and donned a set of blue gloves. I noticed the beautiful book on her bed side table. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland... I remembered reading it many many times growing up...even more so after Jonathon...I blocked the thoughts from my head and focused on Alice. Gently moving her as I checked her tubing and connection ports. I sighed as I noticed her greasy hair.

I grabbed a small bucket and filled it with warm water then some soap. I gently began washing the poor child. I smiled to myself as I began to quote my favorite passages from Alice in Wonderland. I was hoping it may draw her closer to lucidity. I wanted so badly to meet this beautiful child. As I was lathering her hair in soap I heard the door behind me slide open.

I turned to look in time to feel a hard object crack me in the back of the head. I flew forward onto Alice but quickly moved off of her. The heart monitor not changing in speed or tone. She was too far in her vegetative state to register my falling on her. A splitting head ache brought me back to the moment as I stood face to face with a tall Brutish man.

My eyes widened as he lifted a pistol with a silencer attached to the end.

I gently took a step back letting my large butt hit the code blue button on the wall. An alarm sounded and people began to rush towards the room. The man,realizing what I had done pulled the trigger sending a shot into my chest, he then shot the window out and jumped through. I looked down to see blood soaking through my top. I couldn't think, Couldn't breathe, I felt numb...it actually felt kind of nice...like a warm bath. My vision became spotty as the door slammed open. My eyes widdened as I came face to face with Loki. He looked at the small frail girl splattered  with my blood. Then his eyes flicked to mine.

"Al-alesana" he whispered as he lerched forward to grab me. My knees buckled and I fell into his warm arms. I mumbled

"Oh good... you're here." in time for the darkness to consume me.

[friendlylocalwhumper]

I'm really craving some mind controm whump right now (honestly I'm always a slut for it, but I want it even more than usual rn), if it's not too much asked, culd ypu maybe write a short drabble (or then just throw me some thoughts) about some oc of yours under mind control? I understand if you've got too much stuff to do or just don't feel like doing it, absolutely no need if you don't want to, but it'd be very nice 😊 I love you and your writing btw

Phoebe is @malfunction-whump ‘s oc.

An invasion, an unholy wickedness, within.

What force of evil would attempt to control a djinn? What darkness would dare assail his mind? The fact that anyone has ever laid a hand on him is dishonor, but this is beyond comprehension, impossible to accept.

Attempting to control the mind of a djinn is something like trying to catch a flickering flame with your bare hand. Nadeem doesn’t have to fight it, the invasion - his being fights it, his powers, his soul.

He clutches at his vessel, staring at the wall of the room he’s in. Whatever is pressing at his mind, it has been doing so for days. It’s been too dangerous to sleep, because he needs to be awake if the pressure in his mind grows. In case he needs to fight it harder.

So he sits, gripping at the unbreakable glass of the little blue bottle that often keeps him safe, exhausted and uneasy. He is a djinn. He doesn’t believe that any invasion of his mind could succeed. But if he were to escape into his vessel and hide, formless for a time, he fears that the evil pressing at his mind will slip free and spill into the world. He doesn’t know what is attempting to take control of him, but it should not exist.

Evil, evil. It is evil, what is in him, whatever it is - he still doesn’t know what it is, and he still doesn’t know how to stop it. Pain in his head, growing steadily, and he still hasn’t slept.

His dark fingers clutch at his head, slipping through long silvery-white hair. He will not be overcome, he will not - he will not -

His great fight, holding out, it all floats away like the mist of the sea on a warm breeze. Nadeem shudders, once, and then the tension leaves him entirely. His thoughts are drained, and he loses all the control that he’s been clinging so desperately to.

His soul hurts. Nadeem doesn’t know why, but he aches, in his core. He clutches at his tunic and grunts softly, eyes squeezed shut. He’s been pulled from a dark numb place and…

There is crying. Not his own. Soft, emotional sounds, and a quiet slow shuffling.

Pale blue eyes open to see… a terrible thing. Phoebe, his friend, his strong kind friend, trembling on the floor. The Paladin’s trying to drag herself up, with little vulnerable whimpers. Her legs. They’re broken. So she can’t get away, like an animal made lame so it can suffer and be watched.

Nadeem feels warm, wonderfully warm, and she’s shivering on the floor. He stole her sun’s warmth.

He is unharmed, but for the aching of his heart, while she makes small injured sounds like she’s nothing more than a frightened human child.

“It’s… not your fault, Nad-deem,” She gasps, watching him, tense with pain. Her voice is soft and wavering. “Not your fault.”

No, this is wrong - he knows, in his soul, that’s why it’s aching in him, because he knows wrong and evil when he sees it, and he brought it this time, he didn’t fight it off.

When a djinn sees the world broken, they can fix it. Everyone gets three wishes. Everyone. Nadeem has three. Hasn’t used one yet, in his existence.

The world has broken today. He broke it. Phoebe has protected him, been his friend, she saved him, and he let evil crawl into his mind and tear at her.

Should he wish this never happened? Wish for Phoebe to forgive him, wish for her to be healed, wish that he never existed? Consequences, there are always consequences for making too big a wish, and too small a wish will be ineffective.

Did he hurt others? Phoebe would have fought hard to stop him, if he was a threat to humans, did he hurt someone else?

Nadeem slips down to his knees, near his friend - he touches her shoulder, and she’s so cold, compared to all the times that her powerful warmth has reached him. How much power did he drain from her? She hasn’t flinched from the touch, but she’s watching him, and it hurts, like she can see right into his soul.

“What can I do?” He asks, raw horror clear in his voice. “How do I fix this? Did I hurt -” He hurt Phoebe, she’s hurt. “- anyone else?”

“No, I stopped -” Stopped you, stopped the evil - “I didn’t let that happen.” Phoebe gives a wan smile, and Nadeem takes her hand, in agony over what he’s done.

“I wish that I could fix this,” He whispers, and blue mist spills from him, his magic doing the work. Sunwarmth pours from him into Phoebe, warming her, making her breaths come deeper and calmer. Her legs, they feel only warm, and her breath hitches as they mend but it’s quick and then it’s all better. The bit of blood at her lips is cleared away, any other pain she’s in dies off.

It doesn’t matter if she could have healed another way. She shouldn’t have been in pain at all, shouldn’t have been cold and chillingly calm about her own suffering. It was his wish, one of the only three he’ll ever have, and he gets to use them how he wants. In the human’s cellar, when he was frightened and in great pain and unable to even rest, he dreamt of using one of his wishes to be free and safe. But he couldn’t, there was no sense of injustice there, no instinct that his soul would die if he didn’t act.

Phoebe, though, her pain is truly a broken world, and he’s glad to fix at least the physical damage.

She doesn’t need help sitting up, but he helps anyway. He can’t meet her golden eyes, and he can’t hug back or pull away when she wraps her arms around him. He’s sorry, and sad, and tired. Wants to go curl up somewhere and cry himself to sleep like a child, like he isn’t a mighty djinn.

“You did nothing wrong, Nadeem,” Phoebe says to him, softly, as she holds him. He shakes his head, and hugs her back. Next, she’ll probably ask if he’s okay. She is so warm and kind and strong. At least she answers to a wise, powerful Council. If Nadeem is evil inside, if there is a darkness in him, they will know, they will tell Phoebe. They might even ask her to bring him in, to stop him from ever causing pain again. It’s his only comfort, right now. That if he can’t stop causing suffering in the future, she will. And if she has to stop Nadeem, she will do so without fail.