#hey if it's not too much trouble could you remember me to one who lives there?

[crashpit]

in 5th grade my friend and I had websites on a site maker thing called yolasite. also we had like major beef on this girl named Aubrey bc she was always snitching on us and getting us in trouble for random things. anyways, one day my friend was at my house and we were in the computer room on our home PC which was windows 2000 in the year 2009 if that adds any flavor to this. my friend suggested we make our own website, one called aubreyhaters .yolasite .com but we had to make it on my account because her parents would be mad if they found out. I thought this was reasonable, as her parents scared the living shit out of me too. we made the site detailing all the little things we hated about her (she lied about befriending Justin Bieber, lied about being related to the Jonas Brothers, was mean, etc.) alongside poorly drawn mspaint imagery (stick figures).

I didn't think about this until the next day at school during lunch, my friend and I were sitting at the table and Aubrey was at the same table too so my friend gets her attention and she's like "hey Aubrey! I found a crazy website you should look up. it's literally called aubreyhaters .yolasite .com. I swear it's real!! look it up!!!" and then my heart sank. I felt so incredibly numb with anxiety like my whole body was liquified into a puddle then and there.

so the next day at lunch Aubrey comes and tells us that she found the website and she's gonna tell EVERYONE in school including the principal. she was determined to find the creators of the site. so anyways I am fucking horrified to go to school for days on end I mean it felt like months but it may have been moreso a week or two of the school trying really hard to figure out wtf this site was and who made it. at the time, there wasn't much knowledge on tracking things down to IP addresses especially in a small school where there wasn't any protocol for this sort of situation yet. when it became known that the school was investigating that was when I went and permanently deleted the site and prayed to myself that nothing would happen.

well, one day they came to our classroom, deciding it had to be one of us as this was the same class Aubrey was in. they gave a long lecture on cyberbulling, which they had described as a crazy and new, never before seen phenomenon where kids could, omg, bully each other online. who knew that could happen. so what happens next in this situation is that they come to the conclusion my friend might have made this account, considering history between her and Aubrey. they take her out to the hall to have a conversation. she comes back crying. the principal comes up to me with this look like "you're in huge trouble" and pulls me immediately to the principals office. hes like "you friend told me YOU came up with this website and it was all YOUR idea and your friend there? you were trying to frame this on her and you're lucky you have no history of being in trouble for anything otherwise you would be in much worse trouble." basically I clammed up couldn't say a word just sobbing profusely for the whole thing and he felt bad probably so gave me a slap on the wrist at most. still, this is one of my most traumatic memories of my childhood I can remember.

in retrospect, I don't feel bad about making aubreyhaters bc Aubrey in the year 2025 is uh... well at one point she was a security guard or something and acted like she was a fully fledged police officer online to the point where I genuinely thought she was a cop until someone told me she wasn't even a real cop just a security guard who's pretending to be a cop online. before that she joined the military and then got dishonorably discharged and lied about that whole situation saying she left bc she hurt herself but that's not what happened. well that isn't exactly the most recent fuckery on her part she's also like.. got Israeli citizenship and fullheartedly is supporting Israel and yea I do not feel bad about cyberbulling her in 2009. it was not even real cyberbulling we were spitting straight facts about how she was a lier in regards to Justin Bieber and The Jonas Brothers. reasonably I avoid her and a lot of people I went to school with like the plague :/

what's the most demented thing you guys got in trouble for in school mine was when an english boy in my class made fun of my name and called my mum a (derogatory word for irish travellers) so i told him my ira uncle was in town and was coming to blow him up after school

[keferon]

Chapter 3 of Blurr’s storyline in Mecha AU!

Previous chapter

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers.

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Under the cut⤵️

——————————————————

It's Swindle's birthday.

He thinks it is.

He's pretty sure.

Since he was taken into the program, it's always hard to tell. It's like time flows differently here. He had a calendar, but Brawl put it somewhere a while ago and then forgot where it was. And they're not allowed to have phones yet. Though Swindle assumes Onslaught managed to steal one from someone anyway.

Shit. Where's the calendar?

Swindle remembers the date, but can't remember the month.

There's a strange static tingling sensation in the back of his head. If he turns his head too fast, it'll grow into an unpleasant pricking pain.

The last time in the lab was disgusting.

He can't remember what month it is. He's not even sure why it bothers him so much. Not that birthdays mean anything within the walls of the program.

He stops in the middle of the living room and looks around with a meticulous eye. He's already checked the beds, desk, and nightstands...hah.

“Hey have any of you seen my calendar?”

Vortex, sitting on top of the bunk bed shakes the ash off his cigarette right down into Blast Off's lap.

“Nope.”

“TEX YOU'RE LITTERING ON MY BED.”

“I could have ..torn it up” offers Brawl from across the room.

Swindle turns on his heels and angrily rests his arms at his sides.

“You tore it?”

“I might have,” Brawl scratches the back of his head.

Swindle pinches the bridge of his nose

That's fine. Not that he cares that much. Not that any celebration at all would save the crappy day.

He has some new “experimental” medical procedure scheduled for later, which generally means suffering. Or if he's lucky, some critter will attack the city and instead of squirming on the slab, he'll have to go cuddle with huge nasty beasts. Which is slightly better than the actual procedures. He'd like that to happen. If only his head would also stop buzzing....

“Happy birthday to me” Swindle thinks, sticking his Mech hand under the plates of a particularly ugly monster and pulling something disgustingly oozing green blood out of there. He can see the faces of the random gawkers who didn't have time to evacuate. Ooh, some of them got that nasty stuff on their faces. Swindle has no time to feel sorry for them.

The monster did attack, but it's entirely possible that this monster ended the last meager supply of luck Swindle had. Because somewhere. Something. In his head begins to hurt again and the world in front of his eyes begins to slowly blur and..

ahh FUCK….

The monster grabs him knocks him to the ground and Swindle can literally feel in his bones that something's wrong, but the data from his Mech doesn't give him any useful information. Which isn't that uncommon. These things are glitchy as hell and aren't designed to recognize anything but the most basic popular malfunctions.

The word “error” shines mockingly in his face. Blurring in his eyes and reflecting in red on his uniform.

Error, error, what the hell is this error. He needs to know what's wrong so he doesn't accidentally kill himself, but all this bucket offers him is oops. You're in trouble teeheee~

He can hear the sound of Blast Off's giant cannon in the distance. And the loud rumble where Vortex and Onslaught are trying to get out of the ring of monsters.

His Mech is unresponsive. His damn machine refuses to move and Swindle isn't quite sure if it's the Mech that's the problem, because his head feels like a piece of raw rotten meat and maybe the error meant that what's broken is him.

The monster leans over him, trying to rip off whatever it can rip off and thank god this thing apparently isn't smart enough to realize that the Mech is controlled from the head because it's aiming straight for his chest.

He needs to get out. If he can't get this thing to move, he needs to get the fuck out of it before the alien gets him.

He manages to open the emergency hatch and quietly slip out and ohhhh the world is spinning, this is not bloody good.

He manages to take a few steps before a loud B A N G comes from somewhere above and IS THAT A TRAIN???? Who in their right mind would think of using a fucking train as a throwing weapon???? Is that Brawl? It's got to be Brawl. Oh, Swindle is so gonna kill him.

Because (sadly) in addition to the monster, the train and Swindle, there's also physics involved in this circus.

So while the monster is effectively brought to rest and knocked sideways with a hole in it’s head, the train stops its forward motion and starts its downward motion.

Right onto Swindle's head.

He just has time to think that dying from a train falling out of the sky is a pretty creative death. His legs are shaking, his head is buzzing and he only manages to take half a sluggish step in an attempt to avoid the inevitable when a loud “MOVE” comes to his ears and something yanks him to the side.

The tug sends fire down his spine and head. The ensuing landing reverberates with pain in his shoulder and sides. He barely has time to process the first two sensations until a moment later he hears a rumble so deafening that he thinks his eardrums are about to burst.

Swindle props himself up on his elbows and hisses in pain as the movement causes the back of his head to sting.

“Ah I'll fuckin' kill him...”

A voice comes above him

“Ouw dude. You okay?���

There's.. Some teenager hovering over him. And behind him is lying...the wrecked train...right where Swindle himself was standing a second ago.

The strange teen frowns worriedly and pulls Swindle upright and drags him somewhere else

“Come on, it's best not to be in the open during monster attacks”

“Ah” thinks Swindle ”right. Without Mech you're a pathetic tiny piece of chop begging to be stomped on by Brawl.”

He tries to focus on balance so he doesn't hang too much on this kid.

They find the nearest unlocked door, which turns out to be the entrance to an underground bar.

“So” says the stranger, letting go of Swindle and shaking the dust off his hair ” You're a pilot! That's so cool, but you're kinda small for a pilot.”

Swindle sighs sullenly.

“I'll let you have that one comment about my height because you helped me, but next time you're dead.”

“Helped? I saved your ass.”

“Helped a lot” says Swindle grudgingly. “Thanks.”

The teen laughs and climbs into the bar. It's a mess everywhere, people clearly evacuated in a hurry and threw everything in haste.

“What's your name? Oh, or, wait. Do you guys use code names? I've heard pilots call each other by call signs, but half the time those call signs sound so dumb, I don't see how they can respond to that.”

He waits for the kid to cut off his flow of words to take a breath. Man, what a chatty boy.

“You can call me Swindle.”

“Kay” the kid pulls out a couple glasses ”I'm Blurr. Would you like something Swindle? I don't mean to brag, but I'm pretty good at mixing cocktails.”

Swindle looks around the room suspiciously. The bar, even though it's underground, looks pretty good. Too good, in fact. The place is clearly not for the poor.

He walks over to the bar and climbs onto a bar stool. There's no one else in here but them, but the electricity is on so he doesn't doubt for a second that they're being filmed by a security camera right now. Maybe a few even.

Blurr throws him an expectant look.

Swindle pretends to go through his pockets. As if there could be money in them out of nowhere. Then he makes a comically confused face and spreads his hands.

“Oh, no, I think I left my millions at home. What's the cheapest thing you have?”

Blurr snorts.

“Ice is free.”

“I'll take the ice then” nods Swindle.

There is a loud rumbling sound above them. It must be Vortex having fun again bouncing on the aliens that have fallen to the ground, crushing their heads.

Swindle is just. He takes off his helmet, takes a glass of ice and presses it to his head enjoying the way the nasty buzzing recedes.

Blurr waits for the rumbling to recede before speaking again.

“But really. You're a pilot but...uh. Are you even old enough to drink?”

Swindle sends him his best grumpy look. It's not exactly a joke about his height, but it's damn close.

“Are you old enough to pour?”

“Sure,” says Blurr too fast for it to be true. If Swindle had to guess, he'd say the guy in front of him is no older than seventeen. The tattered jeans and the T-shirt with the F1 logo printed on it definitely don't help. And, hey, those headphones look very expensive. So do the sneakers. Kid's clearly from a wealthy family.

Blurr pulls out a bottle of syrup from somewhere and pours it straight into his mouth. Doesn't miss, which is amusing. Doesn't wince, which is frankly impressive. Swindle feels the unbearable sweetness just looking at him.

It suddenly hits him

“Hey, do you have a phone?”

“Sure,” Blurr pours himself more syrup. Swindle twitches.

“What's the day today?”

Blurr's mouth is full of an unimaginable amount of sugar, so he just pulls out his phone and turns its screen toward Swindle and oh...oh. He was wrong about the date. And the month, too. It's not his birthday. His birthday was a week ago...

Does that mean he must be nineteen now? Yeah, that makes him nineteen.

Blurr takes the phone back and slips it into his pocket.

“Your face looks funny.”

“I just realized it's my birthday today,” smiles Swindle.

“Oooooooohh~~~” rejoices Blurr ”Congratulations! It's kind of poetic that you almost died just today. Can you imagine how funny the numbers on your tombstone would have looked.”

Swindle chokes on air.

“That's certainly a very appropriate comment, thank you...”

“Sorry haha said without thinking.” Blurr reaches under the counter again and pulls out a bottle from there “Hey, they have more syrups!”

There's another loud rumble from upstairs.

Blurr presses his head into his shoulders and stares up at the ceiling as if hoping to see something through it.

Swindle puts his elbows and head on the tabletop

“Don't worry, it's just Brawl.”

Blurr doesn't take his eyes off the ceiling

“ You can tell that by the sound of falling concrete?”

Swindle lazily dangles his feet. The chair is high and even the toes of his shoes don't reach the floor.

“Brawl is the loudest. And the heaviest, too. He's always crashing into everything, throwing things and breaking things too. You can hear him a mile away.”

He pauses to listen

“And that kch-ooooooooomm is Blast Off's cannon. It's some super rare experimentally advanced one, so it sounds like something out of a space movie. He couldn't stop bragging about it for half a year when he got it.”

Blurr chuckles and leans his elbows on the counter, relaxing.

“ And this...uh...what's this?”

“That's Vortex, he's our local lunatic. Best not to listen too much to what he does, it's almost always disgusting in ways you would never even consider.”

Blurr makes a disgruntled face and is silent for a couple minutes.

“It's weird hearing you call them by their names. I mean, I kind of always knew Mechs were run by people but you guys are never seen, so most of the time it's just.. Huge robots and huge monsters. You know what I mean. I was actually surprised when I saw you get out of that Mech.”

Swindle just nods. Because, what else is there to add.

“Speaking of Mechs.” continues Blurr, ”That thing's evacuation system sucks. What if you were stunned by the fall? What if something short-circuits and starts a fire???”.

Swindle just clenches the glass in his hands. Feels the cold moisture of condensation dripping down onto his fingers

“Then I'd burn.” he doesn't say

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his glum mood

“Oh, hey. If it's no secret, why did you go into piloting in the first place?”

Because he had no choice? He can't answer that, that information isn't for civilians.

Because he didn't know what he was getting into until it was too late? That's not vague enough either.

Because he was up to his neck in debt and barely into college before a smiling man showed up on his doorstep and offered him good money if he agreed to a couple tests...?

“I had to do it for the people.” Swindle decides to repeat a line of propaganda.

“Ohhhh.... That's...a good reason. The monsters are disgusting, of course. But the reason is cool.”

Swindle just. Holds his glass of melting ice, listens to Blurr's mutterings, and enjoys the peace. This random teenager is not his superior or colleague and has nothing to do with the organization at all. Swindle doesn't have to remember to salute or follow orders or fear being reported to his superiors.

He can just. Be.

Just him and his free ice and his saved for free life.

That's. Sweet.

Blurr's drinking syrup again.

...and a little disgusting.

—————————-

Brawl jumps out of bed, hits his head on a shelf hanging on the wall and drops everything on it onto Blast Off's head

“Swindle!!!” yells Brawl.

“Why are these books sticky???” shrieks Blast Off.

“You don't wanna know~” giggles Vortex.

Swindle sighs.

“You're alive!!!” ignores Blast Off Brawl's complaints. And a second later runs up and pulls Swindle off the floor in a crushing bear hug.

Behind them, Blast Off, with his face wrinkled in disgust, gathers all the dropped books back onto the shelf.

Swindle wheezes pathetically and slaps Brawl's arm with his palm, either to reciprocate the gesture or to beg for mercy

“Br...khaaaaah...Brawl I can't breathh.”

“OH. I'm uh. Here. Wait.”

Brawl puts him back on the floor and runs back to the shelf.

Onslaught, who has peeked into the room, puts a hand on Swindle's shoulder

“You've been gone a long time. Boss said you tried to escape.”

His tone isn't judgmental. And not pressuring. Not even questioning, but Swindle knows Onslaught wants more information. Swindle clutches a piece of napkin with a phone number in his pocket and smiles weakly.

“I've found a...friend? I think?”

Onslaught nods. In a manner that only he knows how to do. Not giving an opinion, not encouraging or condemning. Just taking in the information. Swindle admires him for that.

Behind them, Brawl pulls some piece of paper out from under the books that have just been put away and drops them again

“FUCK!” yells Blast Off. Vortex just starts hooting like a hyena.

“Hey Swindle I found the calendar!” yells Brawl waving the paper.

Swindle frowns in surprise.

“It's a different calendar...”

“I found you a new one.” nods Brawl.

“...Why...is it...it's torn in half?”

“It had stupid flowers drawn on it, so I ripped them off. And I accidentally ripped off more than I needed.”

“Ah,” says Swindle, clutching the calendar, ”That's...Thanks. I forgive you for losing the previous one.”

Behind them, Blast Off is trying to strangle Vortex with a jacket.

------------

Blurr waves his arms happily like a hyperactive windmill.

“Swindle!!!”

Swindle smiles and adjusts his glasses

“Your party can be seen from across city.”

“I know~~” primps Blurr “Are you hungry? There was a snack table around here somewhere.”

“I didn't bring any money.” lies Swindle.

“Hey man, it's a party. Help yourself, it's free.”

“Оh.” Swindle's mood instantly brightens. “All right, then.”

“You look terrible” Blurr decides to share.

Swindle, busy shoveling food into his pockets, nods.

“I've had a rough week. Actually, it'd be cool if you didn't tell anyone you saw me here. I'm kind of not supposed to be here.”

He doesn't elaborate.

Blurr is a civilian. In his mind, a rough week is rude people or an exam or bad weather. Swindle's bad week is strap marks on his wrists and double vision. It's nausea from injections and sleepless nights because Vortex won't stop screaming in his sleep.

Blurr doesn't know that. With him, Swindle can pretend to be somewhat normal.

-----------

“Heeeeey“ says Blurr ‘I haven't seen you in a long time~"

“That” thinks Swindle ”is a pretty standard phrase for both of them.

Blurr looks older. Taller too. He was taller than Swindle before, but now that difference is starting to look almost comical. He's also flaunting a cast on his arm.

“Did you get hurt?”

“Didn't make a turn at training” waves Blurr off “It's no big deal. Wanna go find something to eat?”

Blurr is always trying to feed him, Swindle notices over time. Offers him drinks or snacks or whatever.

“ I like your uh..cap?”

“I got a promotion” Swindle smiles proudly “Me and the guys were made a special group...actually you're not allowed to know more than that, so you'll have to take my word for it when I say we are officially cool.”

He purposely adjusts his cap by the brim so Blurr can get a good look at it.

Blurr makes a delighted sound. Something between a “wow” and a giggle. He generally makes a lot of sounds all the time. Tapping his fingers on every hard surface, stomping in place like he's always late for something, laughing, whistling, clicking his tongue. A human orchestra.

__________

Onslaught sits down next to Swindle and clutches his hands in his lap in front of him. This makes the bed legs squeak pitifully. Onslaught has grown surprisingly large. He can almost rival Brawl in height already. Most people find that intimidating, but Swindle just thinks Onslaught is like a wall. A big, solid concrete wall that's so good to hide behind.

“Be careful with what you tell this guy.”

“Don't worry” says Swindle ”He's not the type of friend you tell secrets to. He's just a fun dude who's great to hang out with.”

Onslaught hums.

“And who feeds you for free.”

“If that's how you're trying to ask me to share, you're not doing a very good job.”

Vortex snaps his fingers as he walks past them

“Hey Swindler, the lab is closed for today. It's your day off.”

“Wha...”

Onslaught tilts his head.

“Vortex. What did you do?”

“I spat in their dna sample vault” proudly proclaims Vortex “and didn't tell them exactly where.”

-----———————-

Blurr frowns.

“Hey...are you okay?”

“No” thinks Swindle.

“My friend died” he says instead.

He's not okay. He feels like an animal caught in a beartrap, trying to chew off its own paw to get free.

Except the trap is closed around Swindle's head and it's not a body part he can afford to lose.

There's been a lot of talk. Even more rumors. Swindle listened but tried not to believe.

And then one of pilots, Shockwave… was taken to the lab and brought back a different damn man and it felt like Swindle had the rug pulled out from under his feet with hot coals underneath.

Because Swindle's boss, with his stupid, rehearsed smile, started writing reports about how “human personality flaws are something that can be fixed. That challenging behavior is something that can be repaired with tools.

Blurr freezes.

“Who?”

“Vortex.”

Because of course it's Vortex. Talented but difficult to handle. Powerful but uncontrollable.

They wanted a pilot who would be a beast on the battlefield and a loyal dog on base. And who else would be a more ideal test subject than him?

Vortex was being very rude that day, even by Vortex standards. Yelling and swearing and throwing things around. Kept saying that no shitty lab could make him “a fucking puppet.”

Scratching the stitches on his head until he started leaving a trail of blood behind him.

He went on a mission.

And never came back.

The reports said it was all the monsters' fault. That Vortex was unstable. That the accident had nothing to do with the new technology. But it was nevertheless suspended.

Swindle is both bitter and amused by this. Vortex would eat the same monsters for breakfast any other day. The bastard was unkillable.

“Oh my god” says Blurr “I'm so sorry to hear that.”

He says something else. Probably comforting. About how Vortex died protecting people, maybe. About Vortex being a hero.

“Vortex,” thinks Swindle, ”loved life. He loved adrenaline and danger and pain and thrill and fear, but he never wanted to die. They did something to him. Something that made him go over the edge.”

Vortex got his head in the trap and ripped it off to escape it.

Swindle knows him and the others are next. And knows that no one but themselves can help them.

---------------------------

Blast Off seems...very quiet. He could never stop complaining about Vortex before. Yelling about the garbage. Resenting the unmade bed and the cigarette ashes.

Vortex's bed remains unmade.

Blast Off regularly cleans everything up, but never wipes away the little circles of ash from the places where Vortex used to put out cigarettes on the furniture.

Onslaught puts his hand on Swindle's shoulder and squeezes. Not hard. Just enough for Swindle to register the gesture as important.

Standing nearby, Blast Off lights a cigarette and leans on Onslaught.

“Ons told me about your plan. I want to join in.”

“What kind of plan? Can I get involved?” inquires Brawl.

Onslaught sighs.

“Repeat after me - I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“I don't know, they don't tell me anything.”

“Good job” nods Onslaught “From now on, every time they ask you any - listen. Any! Question about us, you will answer them with this phrase.”

“Got it,” grins Brawl.

Swindle smiles.

“Gentlemen, it's time to violate all that is written, and rewrite all that is violated.”

__________________

Blurr lazily takes his eyes off the phone. He's wearing a racing suit and tons of hairspray. He's shiny and gleaming like a fine collectible figurine that should be on the shelf of an expensive exhibit. He's also bored.

“Sorry buddy, the interview is long over, if you have any questions you'll have to pay for the session.”

Swindle smiles.

“How about one tiny little question?”

Blurr makes funny big eyes.

“SWINDLE!!! I haven't seen you in a thousand years! You...oh I didn't recognize you haha sorry. Nice coat. You quit being a pilot?”

Swindle proudly adjusts his glasses. He's wearing a brand-new, ironed shirt that's exactly his size. Nice neat tie, expensive coat. Swindle isn't surprised Blurr didn't recognize him immediately. Sometimes he looks in the mirror and doesn't recognize himself. After all those years of wearing the pilot's uniform, he felt almost attached to it. And yet here he is.

“You could say I moved.” he winks snarkily, “Up. All the Mechs you see on the streets now are my Mechs~”

Blurr completely forgets about his phone.

“REALLY?? Oh man congrats to you!”

“Thanks” nods Swindle ”You want something to drink? I'm buying.”

———————-

Onslaught adjusts his tie. It's still, years later, a little strange to see him in a uniform instead of a pilot's suit.

“You do realize it's going to be hard to find a person like that, right? We need someone famous enough to be effective and dumb enough to want to save mankind instead of sunbathing on a yacht.”

Swindle adjusts his glasses and leans back in his chair.

Someone outgoing so they can quickly befriend all the right people. Handsome enough to have their face printed on a poster. Smart just enough not to say too much. And not associated with Mecha program so they can't be accused of trying to get promoted through their acquaintances.

Someone who already has everything but still willing to put themselves at risk for the cause.

“You know, I think I have a possible candidate.”

[bitterrfruit]

price….. in a.. a.. cowboy hat

girl... you have no idea what you have done to me with this ask. Cowboy Price!?? I had so much fun with this, I might even do a part 2! I'm sorry this took me so long - I really hope you like it!!! ♡

18+ mdni - cw: chasing, spanking - 3.2k words

John Price owns the ranch that neighbours your father's. You've got a habit of climbing the fence between them, snooping around Mr Price's property and leaving traces of your misbehaviour behind. This time, he catches you.

Here’s part 2!

Daddy had warned you about wandering onto Mr Price’s property. The lichen-coated fence that separated his land and your father’s spanned miles; carving through tall dry grass, through woods of oak and pine trees, over a bumbling shallow creek. It was easy enough to climb over, but there was one little gap in the barrier, where the splintering planks had fallen from their fastenings. Tucked under a towering cottonwood tree, hidden by the grass, it was easy to wander through as if it were more of your own land on the other side.

Mr Price was a reticent man. An arguably shadowy figure, who you might occasionally see on horseback up on the hilltops of his ranch, tan cattleman hat bowed as he surveyed his acreage. You had met him, once or twice, as a girl. Then, he was in his early twenties, tall and aloof. Eldest of three sons, all three of whom had enlisted and served, sent to fight a war whose nature you were oblivious to in your innocence. He had been absent for years, and once his father was taken by whatever cancer he chose not to treat, John was the only one of the three to return.

His father you had known, vaguely, only as a man that your father despised with an unwavering passion. Some daft rivalry, dating back long before you were born. Whatever enmity existed between old men had not quite been passed on to the last remaining son, it seemed – where there might have been out-and-out conflict, existed only cold disinterest.

Thus explained your intrigue. You found yourself strangely captivated by him, in a nosy sort of way, once he had finally come home. Suddenly bearded and jaded, no longer the bright-faced young man you had distantly remembered, he had picked up where his father had left off. He lived alone, as far as you were aware, in his inherited six-bedroom farmhouse, atop a five-thousand-acre piece of natural splendour. Don’t bother the man, daddy would tell you, he’s not our friend.

But you had always been at the mercy of your impish curiosity. You couldn’t help it. It was an impulse, a compulsion, to stick your fingers where they didn’t belong. You would habitually explore his acres when you came home from college. You’d peek into his empty old shacks, pet his mooing cattle, pick handfuls of wildflowers from his unkempt fields.

Sometimes you’d sneak into his stables. You’d coo at his horses, stroke their velvet snouts, feed them the flowers you had plucked with a smile. They had grown to like you, his sweet horses, you wished you could know their names. They probably liked you more than him, no doubt, the mysterious little neighbour that would sneak in at dusk and feed them treats.

But your most regular habit – one that had gotten you into trouble before – was your proclivity for picking bunches of glossy red cherries from his rows of fruiting cherry trees. The orchard was under-loved and weedy, but those glimmering little baubles of ruby were just too delightful to let fall to the grass and rot.

He had caught you, once, while your arms were stretched far above you, reaching among the droopy branches and floppy leaves to pick the brightest sun-ripened cherries. You had heard him yelling;

“Hey! I see you in there, missy!”

Lips stained red, slick with sweet juice, you gave him a puckish grin before you ran off like a rabbit and hopped back over the fence.

“There’ll be trouble next time I catch you over here, little lady,” he had roared after you, watching you clamber over the oaken planks, “You hear me?”

It didn’t stop you, of course, whatever threat he threw at you. If anything, it emboldened you. Now you meandered down the rows of cherry trees like they belonged to you, picking the prettiest ones, popping them behind your teeth and meticulously nibbling the flesh from the pit, spitting them into the grass as you moved onto the next.

You left a trail wherever you ventured. Little wet pits and green tooth-pick stalks in piles around the place; in stables, along pathways, among the cows. Sometimes you’d leave juicy red fingerprints on doorframes, on the planks of the fence, on horse snouts – perfectly incriminating.

Today was no different. You wandered in scuffing sandals along an old dirt road, green sprigs of grass almost covering it entirely. Some old route that settlers may have followed state to state, spotted occasionally with two-hundred-year-old milestones, ignored just enough to have been spared from crumbling to dust.

Shaded by a cottonwood, humming to yourself, you created a little tipi with your cherry stalks on the flat top of a mile marker. Balanced them carefully as you licked the fruity flesh from your teeth. And when a gentle breeze blew it over, scattering your creation, you leaned over the stone to pick them from the dry gravel around its base.

One, two, three, four…

At the familiar rumble of a truck trundling over dirt, you straighten your spine, palms resting on the edge of the milestone as you look over your shoulder. A dusty Chevy square-body had already coasted to a stop behind you, red paint faded and matte after a decade or two of proper use and neglect.

There he was, the enigmatic man, hanging his elbow out of the open window. Mr Price squinted through the glare of the afternoon sun, crow’s-feet pinching, eyes barely shaded by the cattleman he wore even inside his truck. Your throat bobbed with a swallow as you caught his eye; the flitter of adrenaline buzzed in your chest, toeing the line between nerves and excitement.

With a disapproving suck of his teeth, he grumbled at you, “What’d I tell you about catching you back here?”

Plucking the short skirt of your cotton dress downward, to cover where it had ridden up, you spun around to face him demurely.

“You said there’d be trouble,” you answered with a simper, shyly scratching the back of one hand with the fingernails of the other.

“Mhm,” he grunted in agreement, tapping the metal door with his palm. He flicked his head in gesture for you to make your way around to the passenger side. “Get in.”

A crease pulled between your brows as you frowned at him. “What for?”

“I’m takin’ you back to your daddy,” he barked, irate and impatient, “I’ve got some words for him, too.”

You absently kicked the rocky dirt with the heel of your sandal, pouting at him. “What words would those be?”

With a snort, he rocked his head to peer out of his windshield, then back to you. “To keep a fuckin’ handle on his daughter.”

“Don’t think there’s anything you could tell him that he hasn’t already tried,” you mumbled, attempting to subtly flick the handful of cherry stalks you had collected to the ground.

He chuckled at that, breathy and hoarse, a hint of frustration in his throat. “I believe that,” he scoffed, “c’mon. In. Don’t make me ask again.”

You chewed on your lip, squinting in challenge as you stood up straight. “Or what?”

Glowering at you for a moment, his nostrils flared in frustration, as he seemed to swallow what must have been an inappropriate retort. Instead, his arm retracted through his window, and following the thud of the handle he swung open the door with his forearm.

With a hop he landed in the dirt, dust rising from under his well-worn leather boots. You hadn’t seen him up close in as long as you could remember, and Christ, how he towered over you. It may well have been the looming shadow of his sizzling anger that made him seem so daunting, so delightfully thrilling. You felt the shiver of gooseflesh tingle down the nape of your neck as you tilted your head to look up at him, sheepishly watching his steady approach.

“You’ll be in more trouble than I will if you lay a hand on me,” you spat, with a faint curl in your lips, almost daring.

He gazed down the bridge of his nose at you, wearing a snide and thin smirk, curled under his dense beard. But as his gaze raked you up and down, his sneer shifted quickly into a pout of disapproval, eyes caught on your chest.

“Care to explain this?” He queried severely, wide hand reaching for you; you leaned back further against the milestone behind you as if it might evade him. With his fingers he pinched the cream linen of your blouse, and for a moment you feared he was peering down the gap - brazenly inspecting your bare breasts underneath.

But, no, he instead curled the fabric between his fingers to show you the bright red stain dribbled down the front of your dress.

Oops. Your gut reaction was to giggle, yet unsure whether to admit guilt or feign ignorance.

As you parted your lips to speak, his judging hand suddenly moved to your face; a hold of your chin with a thumb and hooked finger. Piercing glare glued to your lips, his eyes sunk into a defeated ire, shadowed under the brim of his cattleman.

Your tongue writhed behind your teeth, heart thumping in your throat; as he tilted your head up and to the side. He used his other thumb to wipe your bottom lip, pointedly slowly, from the corner to the centre.

“You’re a little thief,” he gritted, dropping your head and peering at the red smear of juice on the pad of his thumb. “Aren’t you.”

Were you scared of him? It was hard to distinguish your fluttering heartrate between terror and thrill – perhaps a touch of both. Because you didn’t know him. You couldn’t trust him. You had no basis to assume he wouldn’t club you with a closed fist and throw you in the back of his pickup. But you felt the tingle his touch left behind on your lip. You got stuck on his pinched blue eyes, the glare of the sun reflecting off your dress illuminating them like they glowed from within.

“No I’m not,” you muttered, readjusting your dress after he left creases in the low neckline.

“And a liar?” He scoffed, as he grabbed one of your wrists – lifting your hand to reveal the sticky burgundy juice under your fingernails, red drips dried in your palm. “You’re covered in evidence, missy.”

Snatching your hand from him, you crossed your arms in petulance. “It’s not stealing if you don’t use it.”

“The fuck it isn’t,” he snapped, hooking his hands onto his hips. “Now get in the goddamn truck.”

“I can walk home,” you grumbled, “you’re not the boss of me.”

Huffing in anger, he leaned forward – looming over you with a domineering lour. “While you’re trespassing on my property – yes I am.”

Glaring up at him from under your brow, you nibble at the inside of your lip as you pouted at him. “What’re you gonna do if I don’t go with you. Kidnap me?”

He tilted his head, shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve got some rope in the truck,” he gruffly warned, “you gonna make me use it?”

Did you imagine the glint in his eye? Did you make up the lascivious quip in his tone? Whether or not it was dreamt, it plucked a coy smirk in your lips.

He was daring you, wasn’t he? Goading you to challenge him.

So with a glistening smile you reached for his cattleman hat – plucked it from his head, and swiftly placed it on your own. Too big to sit properly, you perched it on the back of your head so that you could still see out from under the brim.

“Hey!” He barked, lunging to snatch it back from you – but you bolted, kicking off your sandals, ducking under his arm and sprinting across the dirt road. Through the field of grass and dry wildflowers, you bounded like a deer. “Fuck’s sake.”

Holding his hat in place, you peeked over your shoulder in your escape, and he was swiftly in pursuit.

“God dammit, girl, you get back here!” He roared – already closing the distance. You hadn’t expected a man as bulky as him to sprint as fast as he was, charging after you like a grizzly.

You only giggled, leaping over fallen logs and stray planks of wood, weaving between the tall white oaks that littered his prairies.

“If you get so much as a dent in that hat I’ll fuckin’–”

“You’ll what?” You squealed through a grin, holding the skirt of your short dress in a fist against your hips, to allow your legs to sprint in full stride.

You heard him grunt, close to a growl, as he encroached on you. “You’ll be in big fuckin’ trouble!”

Breathless, panting, you failed to think of any witty response as you dashed towards one of the many stables on his expansive property – this one devoid of horses or livestock, simply a storage building for stacks of haybales and racks of tools. You’d perused it before. He might have found more discarded cherry pits in there.

He was behind you already, as you barrelled through the ajar stable door, stumbling into the centre of the dishevelled space. Illuminated only by the cracks of glowing sunlight that broke through gaps in the plywood boards, you stood amongst dust and scattered hay. You turned and faced the entrance, watching in anticipation as he steamed in after you.

Face burning red in fury and exasperation, he jabbed two angry fingers in your direction. “Give me the hat,” he ordered, throaty and severely – no longer joking.

But stubborn as you were, overly enjoying the needless chase, you were not going to capitulate that easily. You stood poised to dash, and with hunched shoulders, he prepared to hound after you.

“I like it,” you puffed, exhilarated, purposefully impudent. You pinched the brim, pulling it down with a disingenuous hat-tip. “It probably looks better on me.”

“Even if it does,” he chided through teeth, out of breath, “it’s not yours.”

You snickered girlishly, pursing your lips. “Maybe it should be.”

“Give it to me.” He thundered, hand outstretched, your heart flipped in your ribs at the sudden eruption of stern rage.

So you spun on the ball of your bare foot, before flitting hastily towards the rickety ladder that led up to the hayloft. Clambering up it like a spider, the old wood and rusted nails squealed in dispute of being used for likely the first time in decades.

But he was blindingly rapid in his chase, and before you made it even halfway up the ladder, his heaving forearm scooped around your waist, hooking you by the stomach.

“C’mere,” he growled through a clenched jaw, as he peeled you from the ladder; hoisting you like a small animal, holding your back to his chest with a constricting arm, leaving your feet dangling high off the ground.

You writhed and kicked, bucking like a goat, still holding his hat tightly to your head to prevent him from snatching it back from you. “Let go of me!” You squeaked, still giggling.

“No,” he snarled, “I’m taking my fuckin’ hat back, and then I’m taking you back to your daddy so he can knock some goddamn sense into you.”

You whinged, clutching his thick forearm in an effort to loosen his grip; nails digging into his bronzed and hairy skin, corded with veins bulged from the exertion of keeping you contained. His body burned like a furnace, pectorals stiffening underneath you as he flexed them, while he hauled you towards the exit.

“It’s just a hat,” you whined, “you’ve probably got heaps of them.”

Your obstinance was aimless – no particular interest in the hat, and no true understanding of why you fought so desperately to keep it. Maybe you just wanted to see how far you could push him. Wanted to see what would happen.

“It was my father’s,” he griped, anger approaching a boiling point as you continued to squirm around in his grip.

You groaned in dispute, still holding the leather cattleman tightly to your head. “Well he won’t be needing it, will he?”

That was a step over the line.

You knew it immediately, quick to bite your tongue after the words spat from your lips.

And his retaliation was sudden and severe; dragging you closer to the exit, he tossed you unceremoniously, almost tumbling down with you into the pile of block-shaped haybales that sat by the stable door. You landed face-down against the bale, winded, a squeak jumping from your chest with the impact; and his hat toppled from your head, rolling out of reach.

He kneeled beside you, with his forearm weighing against your lower back - you were flustered and confused by his haste. Skirt hitched up by the fall, he suddenly swung his free hand down with an open palm, smacking against the bare skin of your ass with a thunderous whack.

“Ah!” You squealed, a shriek, followed quickly by a breathless whine that slipped from your lungs outside of your control. The explosive clap rang in your ears, echoing within the bowels of the stables, loud and shrill. And the sting was sharp, hot and prickling like a brand, no doubt the raised outline of his hand was quick to form in your shivering skin.

A silence followed, pregnant and heavy, and you dared not move nor breathe too loudly – you inhaled and exhaled with trembling breaths, lips parted and wet, eyes wide as you stared into the packed hay.

He was dead quiet, too. Panting throatily, he kept you in place; grip of you not easing, though he stayed utterly still. You thought he might apologise, might express some remorse, might beg for you not to tell your father what he did. But he was silent. Like he had even surprised himself.

You tilted your head slowly, peering at him doe-eyed over your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” you whimpered, close to a whisper, dripping with pleading humiliation.

“For what?” He growled; his glower potently intimidating, a glimmer of voracity in his shadowy eyes, strained like he was suppressing greater hunger.

With a whine you turned your head back, facing ahead into the shack wall, you spoke quietly and nervously. “For taking your hat.”

Followed another swing of his arm, wide hand colliding with your rear in another deafening crack, forcing a laboured squeak from your chest. But there was something more than pain in your throat, wasn’t there? A whisper of thrill, a yelp of delight in your subsequent gasp.

And he must have heard it, took it as encouragement; as you felt the hand of his arm that pinned you down curl into a fist, balling the fabric of your dress tightly in his palm – lifting up the hem even further, you felt the cool air of the stable bite at your stinging skin as your ass was entirely exposed.

“Yeah?” He rumbled, gritting teeth, huffing like a beast. “What else?”

[swanimagines]

Hey! Could you write headcanons for Being the Peaky Blinders’ nurse? Thanks so much!

When you first got one of the Shelby’s to your little clinic, you were surprised instead of being afraid. 

The Shelbys weren’t exactly good people, but they were kind to those who lived in the area, helping them in exchange for not snitching on them.

So you didn’t think twice when you ushered them to lay the man on your table and started examining him.

It was John - bruises covering his body, him groaning in pain as you twisted and pressed around him to find any broken bones.

He had a nasty gash on his side and bruises, but nothing more serious.

So you disinfected his gash and wrapped it up, before you called out to his brothers to come and pick him up.

“A week of rest and lots of water helps a lot,” you instructed them. “But if he gets a fever, bring him back immediately.”

And that was that, they thanked you and left.

You thought it was the last time you’d see them, at least for a while – but then they kept coming back.

You didn’t really understand why, your little clinic at the corner of two backstreets, on the verge of bankruptcy, when they could afford going to one of the fancier places near where the injury happened.

Not that you complained of course, they paid you handsomely.

But to your surprise, those payments weren’t enough as a large company bought the building complex where you had your clinic, and you were forced to close it.

You wandered around Birmingham for a week or two, trying to make up a way to feed yourself and pay the rent for your flat.

And then…

Tommy Shelby himself appeared at your door.

“I have a proposition,” he started, handing you an envelope. “We have a free room at the Garrison, you could practice your clinic there. In exchange, you would take care of our gang.”

You eyed him for a moment before you peeked into the envelope. Hundreds of pounds laid there, enough to pay off months of rent in advance. You frowned.

“Why me?”

He was quiet for a moment. “You help without questions, are good at what you do and are currently struggling.”

You stared at him for a moment longer, fiddling with the envelope, before you nodded. “Let me get my suitcase.”

The room at the Garrison was bigger than you expected—not as big as at your clinic, but plenty of room to do whatever you needed. And you remembered occasionally thinking that you could get by with a smaller room.

So, you began your work.

The gang was your priority, but you were allowed to take other customers for extra coin.

Not that there were many, but you were content treating the gang only too - they paid you well, you had money to live comfortably.

Sometimes, they invited you to have a drink or two with them.

In case you fell sick, Polly and Ada took care of you.

Hot tea, warm blankets, soup.

They fell like they were your mother and sister those times, by how caring they were.

Eventually, you moved to live closer to Garrison, Tommy pitching in to help you with costlier rent.

Finn growing up meant he spent time at your clinic a lot. He got into trouble almost daily and came back with bruised or bleeding knees, and you were constantly patching him up.

And Arthur needed your help after he returned from fighting rings, or when he had wandered around and got into trouble while drunk.

You grew to be an important part of the gang, something you didn’t expect.

And they, in turn, grew to be important to you too.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S)

[ckret2]

Chapter 81 of human Bill Cipher not enjoying being the Mystery Shack's prisoner but being even less keen on being the government's prisoner: the feds are snooping around the shack, nobody likes this, and so a family meeting is called to discuss how to send them packing.

####

"I just kept telling him I didn't know anything," said Soos. He was slumped bonelessly on the couch, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve and holding a soda in one shaky hand. "I accidentally said I don't know anything when he asked where he could get lunch in town!"

"You did good, Soos," Stan said. "That's how you handle feds—don't tell 'em anything."

Stan and Ford had called a household meeting, and now everyone was packed into the living room: Soos and the kids on the couch, Stan and Abuelita in the armchairs, Bill and Wendy at the living room table, and Ford out in the entryway so he could pace.

(Everyone was wearing deely boppers. Mabel had had a very productive day.)

Even Waddles and Gompers had been dragged to the mandatory meeting. Gompers had already eaten the pink pompoms off Waddle's deely boppers and was now trying to eat the hem of Dipper's shorts while Dipper tried to push him back from touching the sunburns on his legs.

"What are we gonna do?" Dipper asked. "Last year these guys tried to arrest Stan, and he was still using a fake name back then—so now, the agents could be after Stan or Ford."

"Dial back the pessimism. Right now, they're not after anybody," Bill said. "They're just following up on the eclipse from last week." And a tip about somebody dangerous in the shack. Bill pushed those worries aside. "They don't have any reason to come back!"

"Except the flash drive," Soos said. "Which they know is here. Inside the shack. Cuz they sensed it."

"Right. Yep. Except that," Bill said. "Hey, Dolores—howsabout you whip up one of your special 'welcome to the shack' dinners for them? I'm sure they'd enjoy it just as much as I did."

Dolores nodded thoughtfully. (The tiny sleigh bells on her deely boppers jingles.) "I could," she said. "But what would we do with the bodies?"

"We've got the perfect in-house body disposal! Chop 'em up and feed 'em to the pig."

"Nooo!" Mabel flung her arms protectively over Waddles. He oinked neutrally. "We're not feeding people to Waddles!"

"He'd probably love it!"

"Uh-uh."

"Fine, then the gnomes," Bill said.

Ford said, "Let's call murder 'Plan B.'"

Bill rolled his eye. "All right, smart guy, what's Plan A?"

Ford didn't immediately reply. He paced for another few seconds in the entryway, gathering his thoughts. "There are three ways this could end badly. We have to find a way to prevent all of them," he finally said. "One: the agents discover that there's something under the house and find the portal. Two: the agents remember there's something under the house, and realize they've been brainwashed. Three: the agents retrieve their flash drive, and that reminds them something's under the house."

Stan added, "And if any of those happens, we're both going to jail. Probably Soos too, as an accomplice. Kids might even be in trouble for escaping custody last year." Dipper and Mabel exchanged an alarmed look.

Bill looked at Wendy. "Hey, look who's off the hook." He held up a hand.

"Woo-hoo!" She high-fived him. "We'll visit the rest of you guys in jail."

Mournfully, Mabel asked, "If we get arrested, can you send me crayons?"

"I'll get you one of those boxes with a hundred crayons," Bill said. "And hide a shank in that yellowy green one you never use."

"Thanks."

But if any of those three scenarios came true, that meant government agents crawling all over Bill's portal. Best case scenario, it'd end up halfway across the country in a secret military base. There was tech left in the wreck in the basement that couldn't possibly be synthesized using Earth's current technology, and the Trilazzx Betian ship didn't have backup parts for all of them.

And that wasn't even taking that anonymous tip into account...

"I shouldn't have to go to jail," Ford grumbled. "I wasn't behind the crimes committed in my name, Stanley was."

"Hey," Stan said, "you're the one who impersonated a government agent! Besides, did you really not commit any crimes while building your dumb portal?"

Ford winced. "What's the statute of limitations on burgling radioactive waste?"

"Don't worry, Mothman," Bill called. (Ford self-consciously adjusted his deely boppers, which had paper moths taped to the ends.) "I tossed most of the incriminating evidence in the bottomless pit while you were asleep!"

"Wh— Is that where my lockpicking kit went?!"

"Haha, yeah!" Bill had bought Keyhole's loyalty for the next three hundred years with that.

Wendy waved a hand between Bill and Ford to interrupt their banter. "We can probably keep them from discovering the portal by just not giving them a reason to look behind the vending machine, right?"

"And if we keep them from getting Gompers, they won't get the flash drive," Dipper said.

Mabel said, "What if we put him on a plane to Japan! Do you wanna go to Japan, Gompers?"

Gompers looked at Mabel impassively.

"It's no good," Abuelita said. "It will take weeks to get a passport for the goat."

"Aww."

"There are plenty of ways we can keep their hands off the drive," Ford said. "We could just hide Gompers underground, for instance—there's no way their sensors can reach that far.

Oh no, not when it was clear someone had been down there tinkering with the portal. "Do that and they'll know we did something to hide it! We'll never get rid of them then."

"True," Ford sighed.

Bill said. "I'm most worried about them remembering something on their own. The agents mentioned the portal's gravitational anomalies from last summer—are they remembering something they shouldn't, or did you leave them with those memories?"

Ford hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Stan. Stan shrugged.

"Oh, right. You aren't the expert on how the memory gun operates." Bill rolled his eye toward Wendy. "You see how helpless he is without me around to feed him information?"

"Pshh, shut up. Keep me out of your weird old people academic grudge."

Dryly, Ford said, "Care to enlighten us with your superior knowledge, o god of wisdom?"

No, he really didn't. Not for Ford, anyway. He wouldn't even be grateful for it.

But, under the circumstances—knowing that the agents were after him, too... "Oh, why not," Bill said. "What did you enter in the gun? The exact wording."

Ford frowned, glancing toward the ceiling as he concentrated. "It was... I didn't know exactly how much they knew—I didn't even know which names they knew Stan under—so I tried to make it as broad as possible. I think it said something like 'Pines Household's Secrets'?"

Bill thought that over. "Okay. Okay, yeah, that works. That's perfect, actually—best answer you could have given. You never disappoint, IQ."

Ford was visibly unmoved by the flattery (which was just as well, because Bill had given it out of habit as he slid back into the role of teacher, and had immediately regretted it). "And I suppose you're going to explain why that wording is so important."

"I could," Bill said. "Do you want to know?"

Ford glowered at Bill, lips pressed together in a thin line. Bill stared back, brows arched expectantly. (Wendy looked between the two of them and snorted. Bill pushed her without breaking eye contact with Ford.)

Mabel said, "I wanna know."

"Good enough for me!" Bill hopped from his seat and crossed the living room to a spot where he could address the group more easily. "The memory gun doesn't actually destroy memories, it just severs the connections between those memories and the rest of the brain. Like snipping a squid's tentacles to free it from a squid king."

"What's a squid king?" Soos asked.

"It's like a rat king made of giant squid. It takes at least four to qualify because if their tentacles are knotted in a circle that's just a squid ring," Bill said. "So! Usually you find your own memories by their relationship to other memories. Driving by the grocery store reminds you that you need to go shopping, which reminds you that you're out of straws, which reminds you of when your doctor's eye got gouged out, which reminds you of those vampires in the library, which reminds you of that book you need to return, yadda yadda."

Stan said, "Wait, your doctor got what—?"

"He was fine, he had it coming, and I was nowhere nearby."

"And how's that get you to vampires?!"

"The tangy taste of blood left in your straw. Please hold any other questions to the end!" Bill said. "But, since the memory gun severs a memory from the ones connected to it, you can't be indirectly reminded of it—the chain's been broken. But the memory'sstill there. All it takes is a direct reminder to recall it, and then it starts reattaching to your other memories. Everyone with me so far?" He directed the question in Mabel's direction.

Mabel nodded. Ford opened his mouth to ask a question.

"Great," Bill said. "But! What gets severed is determined by whatever you programmed into the gun. So, for example, if you run into a vampire in the library, then get shot with a memory gun programmed with the word 'Vampires,' there's no more jumping from your doctor to that late book! And you won't remember your vampire encounter if you wander around the library���at most, you might get a sense of deja vu—but you will get back your memory of the whole thing if you run into another vampire!"

He nodded toward Ford. "So 'Pines household's secrets is the best phrase you could've picked. It means they forgot any Pines secrets—including Stanley's criminal record—any household secrets—including the machine in the basement—and since they only forgot the 'secrets,' they can run into anything that isn't secret without recovering their severed memories—like, say, the entire upstairs of the shack."

Slowly, Ford said, "Then that's why they remember last year's gravitational anomalies. The cause is one of our secrets, but the anomalies themselves aren't a secret—they're a matter of public record."

"Bingo," Bill said. "Well! That should be simple enough. Any questions?"

Mabel raised a hand.

Bill pointed at her. "Yes!"

"Are there vampires at the library?"

"Not anymore!"

"Aw."

Dipper asked, "Did you murder your doctor with a straw?"

"I did not and I won't be taking any more questions on the topic, it was a very traumatic experience" for the patient who went in after Bill.

Stan asked, "Why are you wearing a bedsheet for a skirt."

"Because somebody—" Bill shot Soos a dark look, "grabbed all my perfectly clean clothes for laundry day, and left me with a bedsheet and one dirty t-shirt."

Soos chuckled sheepishly. "Whoops. Sorry, dude."

Ford grudgingly raised a hand.

Bill grudgingly said, "What."

"Are squid kings real."

"Yes. As of last summer there were seven with at least fifty giant squid, but two were negotiating a merger so it might be six by now. I haven't had a chance to check!"

"Negotiating a merger? Do—do they combine voluntarily?"

"Oh, sure. In droves. It's a huge honor! The one I'm friends with says the psychic powers are totally worth the eventual zombification—they're ninety percent undead now and haven't regretted it once in five hundred years."

Ford opened his mouth, got stuck between three questions, and didn't manage to settle on one before Abuelita raised a hand.

Bill's attention switched to her. "Yes!"

With an air of patience unwarranted by Bill's actions, Abuelita asked, "Why are you standing on my TV."

Bill looked down. So he was. "This is my lecture podium."

Abuelita's eyes narrowed. Bill cheerfully ignored her. "Any questions about the memory gun?"

There was a general murmured agreement that, no, that part had been pretty clear. Stan snapped, "Now get off the TV."

As Bill hopped down and caught his balance, Wendy said, "So... as long as they don't know any of the shack's secrets and we get the flash drive out of Gompers before they're back, we're cool, right? We can just erase their files and say 'hey, sorry, the goat pooped this out, totally not our fault.' If they don't remember anything, it's not like they've got a reason to keep investigating the shack."

Bill tried to imagine how they'd react if he told them someone had anonymously reported him to the agents. What if they decided scapegoating him could protect the rest of them from the investigation? (And was he sure it wasn't someone in the room who'd reported him?) "Yep! Pretty much! That'd solve our problems!"

"Okay," Wendy said. "Great. So... we're good, right?"

The room studied each other uneasily, everyone waiting for someone else to answer. "Yes," Ford said unconvincingly. "We're good. Er—kids, we need to... discuss the details of... how to handle this. You don't need to stick around." He looked at Stan. Stan gave him a slight nod. (It made the googly eyes on his deely boppers wiggle.)

Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Dipper said, "Are you sure? We could..."

"I'm sure. Maybe you should go upstairs," Ford said. "Leave Gompers here."

Mabel sat up straighter, preparing to argue, and glanced toward Bill; but when Bill shrugged rather than ready to defend her, she sighed and poked Dipper. "C'mon." ("Ow." He pushed her finger away from his sunburned arm.) They left reluctantly, Mabel escorting Waddles along with her.

Ford tilted his head toward the door. "That means you too, Miss Corduroy. Hup hup."

Wendy groaned. "Fine." She slid out of her seat and headed for the door. "Hey Goldie, let me know if anything interesting happens."

"You got it, cool girl."

Soos raised a hand. "Am I one of the kids?"

"Not today," Ford said.

"Aw."

Sensing a change in the atmosphere, Abuelita got to her feet. "I will get dinner started." She shuffled out of the room.

Bill waited until the door shut behind Wendy and he was sure the kids were upstairs; and then asked, "So are we kicking the kids out for the reason I think?"

"Afraid so. Now that the government knows the flash drive is here, they'll be back with a warrant as soon as possible. We can't waste any time." Ford knelt next to Gompers and pulled out a scalpel. "Somebody hold the goat down."

"Whoa!" Stan jumped to his feet. His deely bopper googly eyes rattled in alarm. "Were you just carrying that around?!"

Bill was abruptly reminded of one of the reasons he'd liked Ford. He squatted next to him. "All right, I can see where the drive's lodged, I can tell you where to cut—"

"Dudes!" Soos flung himself across Gompers. 'You can't cut him open! He's like part of the family! He's been eating out of the shack's garbage for years, does that mean nothing to you?!" (Gompers attempted to eat the foam lightning bolts off Soos's deely boppers.)

Bill groaned. "Come on, who cares?! It's not like he's a person anymore!"

The room stared at Bill. Stan said, "Did you say 'anymore'?"

Bill paused. "Forget I said that."

Ford sighed. "Fine, we'll try to find a solution without surgery." (But, Bill thought, he sounded a little disappointed.) "But if we're using a slower method, the agents might be back before we can retrieve the flash drive. We need a way to stop them from finding it."

"Or from finding the door behind the vending machine," Soos said. "Now that they know the drive's been here, they're gonna keep looking until they find it! What if they think it might've fallen behind the vending machine or something?"

"What we need is a distraction," Stan said. "Something that'll keep 'em from searching the shack too thoroughly."

"And ideally, something that will keep them from coming back," Ford said. "They keep returning to Gravity Falls because of the power surges and related gravity anomalies in town, correct? Obviously, the meteor shower story wasn't convincing enough. If we give them an explanation that lets them close the case completely..."

Which was all well and good, except they weren't just looking for power surges and gravity hiccups anymore. They thought somebody in the shack was a threat to national security. Bill had kept suspicion away from himself for the day by pretending to be a tourist, but if the eagles got serious, that wouldn't last long. If they were watching the shack, they'd realize Bill was a resident; and if they tried to investigate him at all, they'd quickly realize they couldn't find any legal records of his existence. Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Theraprism's reincarnation machine hadn't given him the right skin color to get away with that in this country, especially during a witch hunt for a suspected terrorist.

And, worse—what if they did identify him?

He'd heard Agent Trigger say Soos's alien keychains resembled the "real thing." The Bureau of Covert Investigations didn't tell all its agents about all its cases—but it sounded like these two had been to Hangar 618 at least once.

So had Bill.

Over 60 years ago, a military experiment had accidentally ripped open a very small hole to the Nightmare Realm. Not big enough for Bill to squeeze his full self through (HA! Not even close), but big enough to project a hologram through—something solid enough for the soldiers who'd detected the temporary rift to see and touch. And, naturally, they'd hauled his hologram to Hangar 618—the five-sensed suckers thought the projection was his real body—where they hid all their unidentified fallen objects.

It had been fun! He'd gotten to use all his army name puns (Major Pain, General Disarray, Private Shame, etc.), he'd lived out a centuries-old dream of snorting a line of gunpowder, he'd gotten Commander I-Don't-Even-Know-'Er to sing "On Top of Spaghetti" in exchange for Bill agreeing to leave the artillery room, he'd learned a dirty joke from the nurse brought in to assist with his vivisection, he'd introduced himself to half the base...

He'd introduced himself.

Somewhere, probably in some redacted appendix to Project Blue Book, the US military had a file on Bill Cipher—and so did the eagles. They knew his name. Hell, they even had his thumbprints—obviously alien thumbprints, that he'd retained when he reincarnated. Every object in the shack he'd ever touched carried the proof that he was Bill Cipher.

If whoever had sent the Bureau a tip had mentioned his name... Well, there were a lot of Bills in America, but not a lot using the last name "Cipher." There were probably under fifty living humans who knew about the triangle in Hangar 618, but for those who did, hearing that name resurface in Gravity Falls would blow their gelatinous little minds. He was sure they would love to get their hands on him again. He bet they'd be fascinated to find out how a triangle had fit into a human skin.

Getting hauled into a secret government facility had only been fun when his true self was still in the Nightmare Realm and the part of him in captivity had been a projection made of light, dreams, and lethal doses of radiation. Plus, that had been before he really, truly knew what it was like to be a captive. Now, the thought of being hauled back to that interrogation room—with the cheap metal chairs and gray floor and gray walls and stark sharp light—made him nauseous. The idea of being questioned about himself by some arrogant buzzkill in a suit sounded too much like therapy for comfort.

And it would be so much easier for them to keep him from escaping when he was weighed down by flesh.

Nobody was protecting Bill. The Pines weren't above throwing him under the bus if they thought it might save their precious little family from arrest. There was nothing for it. If he wanted to save himself—he had to help.

"Listen," Bill said. "I have an idea. It's iffy, and it'll require you all to trust me a bit..." He paused to give them an opportunity to laugh.

Only Stan chuckled. Good enough for Bill. "But, it might be our best shot."

"Okay," Ford said warily. "What is it."

"Bear with me," Bill said. "I bet I could get the head agent off our case by flirting with him a little."

And that time they laughed at him.

Bill patiently waited. "Okay, okay, ha ha, but the guy's been leering at me the last two days. Ask Wendy, she's the one who noticed! And do you know what his love life looks like? Because I do. Woof. Dry as a bone. That man's married to his work! He's lonelier than Elvis is!"

"Wait," Ford said. "What does that mean? Where's Elvis?"

"Not important. The point is, he's a soft target, he's already into this—" he gestured disdainfully at his human body, "and he's got the loosest lips in the eagles. I make a little small talk, I compliment his mustache and pretend I think working for the government is attractive, I keep him too dazzled to notice what's right in front of his face..." Bill trailed off. "And... that's as far as I've gotten. We'll figure it out as we go! Maybe I just distract him too much to do his job, maybe I strangle him in the bathroom and sell his body parts to half a dozen inhuman vendors in the Crawlspace, I don't know! I'll improvise!"

"It's barely half a plan," Ford said.

"It's the biggest fraction of a plan we have. What do we have to lose?"

"I think he might be on to something," Stan said. "I mean, consider it. Bill's an objectively beautiful woman."

The room stared at him. Bill flipped up his eyepatch to double his stare.

"What! It's just a fact!"

"Aww, Stan." Bill laced his hands together coquettishly and batted his lashes.

"Save it."

"Stanley. I had no idea you felt that way about me—"

"Can it, Cipher! " Stan curled a fist threateningly. Bill winked at him. Stan shuddered. "Eugh. Physical attraction's only gonna carry you so far, demon! Can you attract a man when you're talking to him? Because personally, I find you less appealing every time you open your mouth—and you were in the negatives the first time we met."

Bill thought about that. Bill thought about all his human cultists. Bill thought about all his human cultists whom he'd caught having scandalous dreams about endless staring eyes and cool black hands that buzzed with static and being fully exposed before the golden glory of an ever-watching false sun. Bill thought about that one time he tried to ask one of his sects to at least invite him to his own wedding and wait for him to RSVP before symbolically marrying more cult novitiates to him and they sorta nodded and said "okay" and then went and wedded him to another dozen Cipherwives anyway. "Yeah! Sure! No problem! I attract humans all the time! They can't get enough of this!"

"Okay, but can you attract a human that isn't into freaky space triangle things?"

Bill tapped his index fingers together thoughtfully. "Ummm..."

####

1981

A clubber eyed the hands of the man sitting at the bar beside him.

The man noticed the look and turned toward the clubber, grinning too wide, staring at him with yellowish slitted eyes that seemed to flash in the dim light like a cat's. "Yeah, I know." He drummed his fingers on the bar top. "Six fingers."

The clubber flinched at being caught staring. "Oh—sorry."

"Don't be! It's a built-in conversation starter!" The six-fingered yellow-eyed man laughed. "Hey! Have you ever had six fingers before?"

"Uhh," the clubber said. "Nnno?"

"Would you like to?" The man winked with both eyes, one at a time.

The clubber frowned at him in confusion, and then slowly turned away without answering.

####

"Sure," Bill cheerfully lied. "No problem!"

####

There was a knock on the attic bedroom door. Mabel opened it.

Stan and Ford stood in the doorway with a sulky Bill in between them. Stan pushed Bill into the room and said, "Teach him how to flirt."

Mabel gasped in delight.

####

(Well that took way later than I wanted it to—but it's finally out.

Head's up, I've got two zine deadlines that take priority, my workload triples at the end of the year, and I'm currently preparing the house to welcome home a new baby*, so we might skip next week's chapter. Hopefully not, though; I'd hate to start the new year that way. We'll see.

*it's a snake. the new baby is a boa constrictor.

Let me know what y'all think! I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts.)

[writemekpop]

Best Enemies | Huang Renjun

Summary: Renjun makes your life a living hell - but you can't keep your hands off him.

Genre: Enemies to lovers, High school AU, Jock!Renjun

Word count: <1k

As soon as Renjun’s hand shot up in the air, you knew you were in trouble.

“Sir,” he said, “I can’t focus.” His eyes slid towards you. “Y/n keeps… trying to touch my leg with her foot.”

A groan spread through the class, and you heard the words ‘class slut’ pass through people’s lips.

“Come on, sir” you said dryly. “You and I both know not to believe anything Renjun says."

“Look… I know you have a thing for me, but this is taking it too far,” Renjun sighs, his eyes crinkling in the faintest smile.

Everything from his hair gel to the football jersey he wore even when he wasn't exercising sweated smugness.

“I wouldn’t touch that with a ten foot pole,” you muttered, so only Renjun could hear.

The teacher told everyone to get back to their work - but you weren’t finished.

The second Renjun turned back to his work, you slid off your chair, making a loud crash as it hit the ground.

“Hey! What the hell?” you cried, looking at Renjun with shock on your face. “I’m sorry, okay, but there’s no need to be violent!”

Bright red started spreading from the roots of Renjun’s hair down his face. “I didn’t - sir!”

The teacher told him sternly to be quiet, which you loved.

It was silent.

The battle was over.

Finally, you thought, Renjun would leave you alone.

Until, just a few minutes before the end of class, you heard his stupid voice sing out over the classroom.

“Can you just stop?” he said.

Your eyes narrowed. You didn’t have much in the way of popularity to lose, but you loved Maths, and you had annoyed your teacher enough already.

“Oh no… what have I done?” you said in a monotone.

“I will not…” Renjun started, his whole face swelling with glee, “sign your bra!”

You had no idea when you lost your temper. Suddenly, you were bunching the thin fabric of Renjun’s jersey in your fists. You were forcing his body back against the desk.

He grabbed you back, almost lifting you up with his strength.

You felt a flicker of fear. Renjun was stronger than you’d expected. You were almost ready to accept defeat.

That was when the strangest thing happened. You felt a jolt of energy run through you, and suddenly, you had the upper hand.

It was exhilarating to have his body in your hands, to be able to crush him the way you constantly fantasised about. You had power over him, and it was excellent. Although your arms were burning, you felt like laughing.

“You’re so done!” Renjun growled in your ear.

---

“We’re so done,” you groaned, as you slid onto the floor of the sports supply closet. The room was a mess. You moved a cricket ball out from under your butt.

“Look, it's your fault we're in detention,” Renjun snapped, dribbling a ball across the floor.

“Are you kidding?” you said. “You were the one who called the teacher in the first place!”

Renjun slid onto the floor next to you. You stiffened, but he made no move to hurt you.

You tried to ignore how much you wanted to fight Renjun again, to feel his muscles straining to resist you. His body was so close.

“Why are you sitting down?” you snapped. “One of us has to clean the damn place, and it isn’t gonna be me.”

“Well, it’s sure as hell not gonna be me,” Renjun said.

You glared at each other.

Then, you remembered something, and reached into your pocket.

“Let’s flip a coin,” you said. “If you lose, Renjun, you have to clean up everything.”

Renjun added, his eyes glinting sharply, “And if you lose, Y/n, you have to clean up everything… and kiss me.”

Blood forced its way through your arteries, making them swell painfully.

Up went the coin, time slowing as it glinted in the electric light, and as it fell, Renjun called, “Heads!”

You flipped the coin onto your wrist.

Heads.

“I guess I have to clean up now,” you said, a smirk spreading over your face.

“And?” Renjun said.

You pushed him onto the ground, straddling him with your legs. Your hair fell over his face.

“And…” you whispered, as you leaned down towards him. “I have to kiss you.”

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

[lowkeyrobin]

hello!!

would you be willing to do a TMR minho fic?

basically just them at the little glade treehouse (i live for that treehouse lol) and maybe they stole some food from frypan and are just chatting and having a laugh together whilst cuddling or something bc they dont get to spend alot of time together as he is always in the maze??

(been loving your writing recently btw, literally one of the v few writers who write for MCYTS and respect their boundaries so tysm!!)

hope ur having a good day:)

oh hell yeah brother LMAO ; also thank you and you're welcome!! im all for respecting boundaries because ik how that feels when they're broken + I'm not a weirdo lol, and thank you for appreciating my work, it means sm to me 🫶🫶🫶 ; have a good day/night :) ; post writing me, sorry this is so short :( ; also I know I said I was in trouble but NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT??

MINHO ; tree house cuddles

summary ; sneaking food into the tree house and having late night convos with minho

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; reader is a track-hoe, Thomas has been in the maze for months and exists, but no Teresa/escaping the maze

word count ; 459

masterlist

You loved your beautiful boyfriend Minho. He was an angel sent from above, truly. Or... maybe below? The box and what existed out of the Glade was confusing, sadly. God, you wished you could remember anything outside of here.

Sadly, you hadn't seen him very much recently.

He'd been busy with his duties in the maze and the Map Room, and you've been busy working in the gardens damn near all day every day. Your rations were running low, the crops were growing slower than ever, and you couldn't figure out why. It's not like there were deer or raccoons feasting on them either. It was just you Gladers here, nothing else. You'd been stressing out over it and needed some time away from it for a while.

Thankfully, the beloved tree house existed, and rarely anyone used it.

You'd stolen a basket of fruit from Fry's kitchen, awaiting the arrival of Minho. Hopefully, Newt stuck to his word, or remembered to, to send Minho to the tree house to spend some time with you.

Thankfully, the beautiful Korean boy showed up, dressed casual and out of the heavy gear he had to wear in the maze. He greeted you with a tired yet warm smile, sitting down with you on the wooden floor.

"Hey, how's your day?" He asks, sitting next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

You hand him a little basket of strawberries. "Fine, I guess." You shrug, "Need a minute away from the gardens"

He nods, "I need a minute away from the shuckin' maze"

You dangle your feet off the side of the platform, soaking up each other's presence.

He pulls you into his lap, between his legs. He rests his chin on your shoulder while his arms rest around your waist. You feel your stomach swarm with butterflies, resting your hands over his.

"I love you" He whispers, placing a kiss on your temple.

"Love you too, dork," you reply with a smile, leaning your head back to rest yourself against him.

"What a romantic" He giggles, pulling you a little closer.

The night continues on in peace, smiles, giggles and kisses shared, hands intertwined. You share your body heat, cuddled up and comfy.

"No, no, no, he said something like he was gonna beat him back into the box! How does that even work? Gally acts like Thomas is some universal threat or something" You laugh as you speak.

"I have no idea, darling." He smiles and chuckles, listening to you ramble on and on about stories he'd missed during the day.

You look up at him and place a kiss on his jawline, a stupid smile on his face.

"Love you"

"Love you too"

"...Thanks for being mine"

"Okay, shut up, shank"

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-four | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | murder, getting away with murder, minor character death, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, fingering (f. receiving), hints of edging, blood kink if you squint, creampie, virgin! Coryo lossing virginity | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 the end

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 the last chapter! I probably won't do an epilogue, i am not entirely sure on it yet! But this wraps up their story!! I hope you guys liked it! Make sure to reblog and give ne your feedback!

beta read by an angel (TRUTH) @nowitsmissing

thank you to everyone who was on this journey with me... I love you guys!

masterlist | navigation

Coriolanus finds Lucy Gray near the hanging tree. It was nearly evening. Lucy Gray's eyes were red. Coriolanus ignored the pity he felt. Soon, Lucy Gray would join Sejanus Plinth.

“Lucy Gray,” he hissed, taking her attention away from the tree.

“You'll need to leave,” he said, his voice faking desperation, “to the North. Sejanus would have wanted that.”

“What about you?” Lucy Gray asked, “What about the Covey?”

“The Covey will live, Lucy Gray, you know that. They're strong. They're survivors,” he replied, “as for me, I wish to leave with you. I can't stay in the place that took my friend.”

Coriolanus' eyes quickly filled with tears as soon as he finished. “It's all my fault,” his lips utter, “if only I could have stopped him.”

Lucy Gray looks at him, her face stricken with grief. She doesn't say anything but lets the tears fall down her cheeks. She pulls Coriolanus into a hug.

“The Peacekeepers will look for me, I'll stay in the cabin for the night,” Lucy Gray said. There was a cabin, near the lake, over the fence of the district. Nobody ventures that far except the Covey. Coriolanus and Sejanus only found out about its existence due to their connection with Lucy Gray.

He remembered all the moments he spent there with the Covey. It would be a good place for Lucy Gray to perish. Around all the greens and the music of mockingjays inside the forest.

“I'll meet you there tomorrow in the morning with supplies,” he said, holding Lucy Gray's hand, even giving it a friendly squeeze. He was afraid he was overselling the act but Lucy Gray was too sad to notice how over-the-top friendly Coriolanus was acting.

Lucy Gray nods and turns to leave. Her legs were shaky as she walked. Sejanus and Lucy Gray had to keep their relationship a secret for obvious reasons. But everyone would point at her for the mayor’s daughter's death. It didn't end with Sejanus Plinths' death. It won't because the mayor is trying to root out every single rebel, and surely he won't keep alive the girl his daughter hated so much.

Coriolanus finds his way back to the base. It's night by the time he returns. He climbs up the stairs and walks down the hallway to reach your room. He knocks and waits for you to open the door.

You do.

Coryo tried his best not to get distracted at the sight of you. You were looking so pretty. You look beautiful to him all the time. “Hi,” he gasps out.

“Hey,” you smile, giving him space to walk inside the room. Peacekeepers knew by now that something was going on between him and you. They knew better than to gossip about it though. It was clear you had the power to do anything you wanted. And everyone knew not to mess with someone from the Capitol.

That is why Coriolanus knew even if he spent the night here. He won't get in trouble. He pulls off his Peacekeeper uniform and wears one of the big, oversized sweatshirts you bought from the Capitol. The softness of the fabric makes him shy. He felt like a boy again. It was a feeling he never thought he would enjoy. For a moment, he could pretend he was in the Capitol, in his home, before the games had ever happened.

“You look comfy,” you tease him, as you find your home in his arms.

“I am,” he murmurs, his lips kissing your temple.

“I talked to Lucy Gray,” he informs you, “You were right. She's going to the north and she'll stay in the cabin for the night.”

“Hmm,” you hum, as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder, your lips pressing soft kisses to his pulse. Your arms around him, and his arms around you. Both of you caging each other. The heat of both of your bodies mingled into a pleasant warmth.

“Well, then my revolver will come in handy soon,” you whispered, a bit tired.

“They let you bring one here?” He questions.

“Special privileges,” you replied.

Any other day Coriolanus would feel jealousy pulling at his heart, a frown formatting on his face. Today, he just… didn't care. He didn't care that you had more benefits than him. He didn't care that you lived better than him.

You're his.

Could anything be better than that?

He doesn't think so.

“Typical,” he said, his head now on your shoulders.

“Uh huh,” you add, “Stay the night.”

“Of course, dove.”

You lay down on the bed beside him. His arm was thrown over your waist, and your legs tangled with him. You gently let your nails scratch at his buzz cut. He sighs, relaxing from your touch.

“Tomorrow is a big day,” you remind him, “We'll have to finish everything by noon and catch the train in the evening.”

“We?” He questioned.

“I talked with Dr. Gaul,” you revealed, a bit hesitant, “She wants you back.” You frown, “Don't let the news deter from our plan Coriolanus, it's important we leave no strings behind.”

Coriolanus blinks, trying to take in your words. A smile splits on his face. He couldn't believe this, he had thought he would have to wait for months before Dr. Gaul let him get back to the Capitol. Snow thought she would be petty like that. But you somehow managed to convince her otherwise. It was shocking, to say the least.

“I will go to the Capitol with you tomorrow,” he said. He repeats, “I'll go to the Capitol with you tomorrow!”

You giggled, “Yes, Coriolanus. You thought I would leave you behind? It took some… it doesn't matter. We'll have our happily ever after.”

“I can't believe it,” he whispers, his eyes shining with joy, even with the darkness of the room, you could see his eyes sparkling.

“You should,” you whispered, “now sleep, darling. It's a big day tomorrow.”

Coriolanus couldn't believe it. He pressed your lips against yours. “Thank you,” he lets out, “I love you.” Coriolanus takes your hand, and presses a kiss to your wrist, on the number tattooed on your skin. “I love you, my dove,” he whispered.

“I love you too, pretty boy,” you whispered.

Coriolanus pulls impossible closer as if he were trying to mold both of your souls together. “I am glad you're mine,” he said. He kissed your forehead. “You're mine forever,” he whispered, a hint of darkness, and obsession creeping into his voice.

It made you bite your lower lip as you heard the possessiveness in his voice. “I know,” you replied, “You're mine too.” You add, your voice muffled as your face was pressed into his chest, “Nobody can take you away from me ever again.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

In the morning, both of you quietly wake up in each other's arms. Coriolanus yawns, “Good morning, dove.” You hum something Coriolanus couldn't hear in reply.

It was so early that the sun had just begun to rise. However, he could hear the sound of rain. Coriolanus quickly gets out of the bed. He softly pats you on the cheek, smiling as you continue to fight the battle against sleep.

“See you soon,” he whispered, taking the revolver you had in your drawer and walking out of the room. He finds himself on his bunk bed, everyone else is sleeping, and he quickly begins to pack things inside of his bags. The supplies he told Lucy Gray about. When he is done, he briefly stops by in front of Sejanus Plinth's bed.

There was a box in which Sejanus Plinth kept his belongings. Coriolanus opens it to find letters, medicine, and two photos. One of Lucy Gray. Another was of Coriolanus and Sejanus, a photo taken from the time during the broadcast of the 10th Games. It seemed like yesterday.

Coriolanus Snow had no explanation for the tears that fell down his cheeks. Sejanus Plinth was dead. Snow had given Dr. Gaul the gun, and you made her pull the trigger. It's in her hands the blood of Sejanus truly was. Not on him nor you.

Coriolanus wipes his tears away. “She's coming soon to you, buddy,” he whispered to the picture. He wondered if Sejanus would thank him for his next actions, or curse him. Coriolanus doesn't think about it much, he leaves.

Soon enough, he reaches the cabin. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out. Lucy Gray opens the door, giving Coriolanus a polite smile. Lucy Gray lets him inside. He enters, looking around the old cabin he has been inside of many times. Coriolanus sets his bag down. Wondering about what he should do next. Should he wait for you? Should he take out the gun and shoot now?

Before he can decide his next actions, Lucy Gray pulls out a knife. “I think I’ll go dig up some Katniss since we got the fire going anyway. There’s a good patch by the lake.”

“I thought they weren’t ready,” he said. Katniss was another word for swamp potato. It grew around here, but just a few days ago Lucy Gray told him it wasn't ready for harvest.

“Two weeks can make a lot of difference,” she said.

“It’s raining,” he objected. “You’ll get soaked.”

She replied, “Well, I’m not made of sugar.”

Coriolanus lets her walk outside. It was a form of mercy, trying to give her some time to run. He knew that Lucy Gray's survival instincts were good. That was the only reason she had survived the arena.

But she won't be able to survive him.

Coriolanus follows her trail after a moment passes. She wasn't down the lake as she promised, but her footsteps were towards the forest. Coriolanus smirks as he takes the revolver out, and gets the gun ready for a shot.

“Let the hunger games begin,” he whispered, “may the odds be in your favor.”

Coriolanus continues to follow her trail quietly and quickly, using the training of being a Peacekeeper. His gun pointed in front of him, ready to be shot the moment he saw her. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out, his voice warm as if he wasn't going to murder, “Where are you? We need to leave soon.”

“Lucy Gray!” He turns when he hears footsteps and shoots, hoping not to miss. The shot met with flesh, the sound booming in his ear, much more overwhelming than the tap tap of the rain. He walks towards the body that is now in front of him. Red blood mixed with the rainwater on the ground, staining the greenery around them.

He shot her right in the chest.

Lucy Gray was dead.

She joined Sejanus Plinth in the afterlife and will spend the rest of eternity cursing Coriolanus. Snow couldn't find himself to clear. He felt relieved. No one can drag him down now. The only way for him was to climb the ladder and reach the peak. Coriolanus uses his feet to turn her dead body around. There was blood dripping down her lips, her dress red and her were nearly closed. She was nothing more than a dead body. Gone was the songbird.

Now it was time to get rid of the body.

He was grateful that the rain would cover the tracks. But he had to be careful as it was easy to slip and get hurt himself. He drags the body without any rush, he thinks of you, waiting in the cabin for him to come back. Both of you will go back to the Capitol. Snow will be together with his family, in the future you'll also become his family. Everything was going to be fine.

This was nothing but a simple stepping stone.

He could feel his arms getting tired but he continued to drag the body by her arms until he reached the edge of the lake. There was a boat. He wondered briefly if he should just take her on the boat and cross to the middle of the river to let her drown. But decided that it would be too much trouble, and pushed her to the river. A big splash occurs. And he could see Lucy Gray slowly but surely falling to her end.

Lucy Gray was gone from this world forever.

He throws the revolver into the river as well. The body would decompose in a matter of days. Everyone would think of her as a traitor. Even if the Covey comes to visit the lake again, they'll never know it's their beloved Lucy Gray's grave.

Coriolanus Snow reaches the cabin and opens the door to see you holding a Peacekeeper’s gun. The same gun he had used to shoot Mayfair and Billy Taupe. “Guess Spruce hid it here,” you grin at him. You were slightly wet from the rain, unlike him, he was soaking wet.

“Yeah,” he lets out, his shoulders relaxed, his face mirroring your smile. “We'll have to throw those in the lake too.”

You chuckled, “Let's not leave any stones unturned.”

Coryo couldn't take it anymore, the adrenaline was too much. “We won't,” he said, as he walked towards you until your back was on the wall. He takes the gun from you and throws it to the side. Neither of you flinch from the loud noise, the two of you too focused on each other instead. He closes the space between the both of you.

“But for now, I want you,” he adds, “No- that's not right. I need you, here.”

He doesn't wait for a reply. He crashed his lips to yours. You find yourself kissing him back. Your tongue exploring his mouth, he sucks at your bottom lip. Not caring that his teeth are digging into your flesh too harshly, that he's responsible for the coppery taste that occurs while you continue kissing.

“You sure?” You gasp as you break the kiss. A string of saliva connecting you both. Coriolanus doesn't reply, he finds his solace from the taste of your skin. He pressed his lips to your neck, sloppily kissing down your pulse. You softly moan, tilting your head to give him more access.

Coryo takes full advantage of that. He was going to claim you any way that he could. Carving his initials on your skin wasn't the only way after all. Cumming inside of you, giving your pretty red hickeys, the print of his fingers on your hips, even the soulmate tattoo you have on your wrist. All these are ways for him to fucking own you.

And own you he shall.

He bites onto your neck as if trying to tear out your flesh. He wants to consume you, soul and all. You cry out, your back arching. Your hips meet his, and he presses his hard bulge against you. He finds himself in between your legs. Your clothed cunt against his denim-cladded cock. You begin to grind against him, as he continues the assault on your neck.

The teeth mark he placed on your skin will remain for days. It will bruise on doubt. Coriolanus didn't have it in him right now to be gentle. He was too fucking drunk on you for that. All of his desires were rushing through, breaking his walls and overwhelming his mind.

“Fuck,” he curses as he realized his lips are red from your blood. His bites had broken your skin and now tiny droplets of blood were forming. He licks them all up and murmurs an apology. He pressed his lips on yours, painting your lips the same shade as his and making you taste yourself. His hips had slowed down the grinding against you.

He steps back and begins to undress. He lets his t-shirt and jeans fall to the ground. He takes his thick cock out of the confines of his boxers. He grips the base of length, trying to control himself as he watches you follow suit.

He pulls you against him again and nods his head towards the floor. You understand his intention and lay down. He bites his lip, sudden nerves overcoming him. He doesn't know what to do despite the raunchy stories he has heard from his fellow Peacekeepers.

Is he supposed to hold your hand or your hips? Should he just push in? Isn't he supposed to prep you first? Or are you wet enough? Fuck… it wasn't the first time he was intimate with you. He hadn't gone all the way but he was familiar with your body. But most of the time he was overwhelmed with his desire to think about what to do or not to do. This time his mind was clear, he was focusing solely on you and he wanted you to experience nothing less of ecstasy from his touch.

“Coryo?” you question, bringing him out of his internal monologue. “Is there anything wrong?”

“I-” he doesn't want to admit, but he knows he has to, “I don't know what to do right now.”

“You can do whatever you like. I'll tell you if you mess up, sweetheart.”

“I know,” he sighs, his eyes on your tits, he licks his lips, “but I am-” He swallows, trying to explain, “I want you. I don't know how to take you. Everything feels like too much or too little.”

You sit up. You gently cradle his cheeks in your hands. “We have all the time in the world, Coryo. What do you wanna do first?”

“I-” He doesn't form a full sentence, instead he kisses you. His hand is on your nape and another trailing down your body as he softly nips at your lips. He dips down his hand in between your legs, he pressed his palm onto your cunt. He lets himself be coated by your arousal. His breath hitches as he feels your heat in such an obscene way.

“Oh,” he whispered as he pressed a single finger inside of your walls. “I missed this.” He remembers the night when he first felt your tight, slick walls like this. He was rough that night, a bit mean too. Coriolanus wasn't going to be the same today. He plans to worship you.

He begins to slowly thrust his index finger inside of you. His head on your shoulder, his lips kissing any inch of skin he could find as he continues to stretch you out with a single finger. Then he adds another one, he was met with resistance, but he pressed his thumb to your clit. That makes you gasp, your cunt squeezing around his fingers when his thumb begins to draw small circles on the bud.

“Relax, dove,” he whispered, giving you goosebumps.

He doesn't begin to move his fingers even when you whine impatiently, your walls twitching around his digits. Once he deems that you're relaxed enough, he begins to slowly push inside of your pussy, as deep as his fingers could reach. He was trying his best to get you ready for his cock.

His fingertips begin to press into your walls, trying to find that one spot that would get you drunk on him as much as he's drunk on you. He knows he found the spot when he feels your walls pulse around his digits like it had a heartbeat of its own. You gasp his name and he smirks. He whispers to your ear, “That's it, huh?”

“Yes!” You moan, “Faster!”

Coriolanus Snow obeys because he can never say no to you. He begins to fuck his fingers inside of you faster, slipping his ring finger inside of you as well. He thrusts his digits fast and hard, he groans as he sees your pussy stretched to accommodate his long digits. He keeps his fingers slightly curved so that with each thrust he would press into your g-spot.

“Fuck, fuck, you're so pretty.”

Coriolanus couldn't be sure if he was saying that to you, or your cunt. He continues to keep up his speed, the sloppy, wet sounds of your pussy louder than of the rain. Coriolanus could hear you moan his name as he feels your pussy get impossibly tighter around his digits before your walls begin to spasm all over, locking his digits in. He doesn't pull them out, instead, he continues to press hard onto your spongy pleasure spot until you whine his name.

Your juices were now all over his fingers. He didn't waste a second to taste them. He looks into your eyes as he licks his digits clean. He runs his tongue between the spaces of his fingers, making sure he doesn't miss a single spot. When he's done, you pull him in for a kiss. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself, you find yourself in his lap, his back pressed to the wooden floor.

Your hand pulls at the dog tag he wore. You use the necklace like a leash, pulling at it like he's a dog you're commanding. You wrap your fingers around it, your thumb caressing the metal pendant. “You're mine,” you whispered in wonder, “You taste of me.”

Coriolanus nods, agreeing to whatever you say. He just wants you! That's it. Ruin him. Ruin him for everybody else forever! You have that power. Take it and use it, that's all he wants.

You raise your hips, taking his cock in your hand. You pressed his tip against your clit, you gasped as you slowly began to rub his cockhead against your pearl. His pre-cum coating your bud, and soon all over your cunt. You were teasing him every time you let his cockhead get near your slit, but you don't let him slip inside of you. He lets out a whimper when you do it again.

Coriolanus finds out how easily he could make you. He switches the position within a split second, his hands on your hips as he uses his weight to press you down. You don't fight back. He growls out your name, his eyes flashing in annoyan

“Please-” he whines, “stop teasing.”

“Make me,” you smirk.

Coriolanus finds out how easily he could make you. He switches the position within a split second, his hands on your hips as he uses his weight to press you down. You don't fight back. He growls out your name, his eyes flashing in annoyance as if in retaliation he kisses you roughly.

“Don't-” kiss, “Play-,” kiss, “With-” kiss, “Me.”

“Not when I have waited for you for so long,” he adds.

His fingers pressed into your flesh. He gets a hold of his length and pressed it to your slit. “Can I?” He asked you, he wanted your permission. He needs your ‘yes’ before he takes you as his forever.

“Of course, Coryo.”

He begins to push in his tip, his length slipping inside of you with ease. He gasps as he feels your warmth all over his cock. The feeling is so overwhelming that he has to stop midway to not cum right away. He squeezed the base of his dick before he continued to push inside of you again, slowly inch by inch. He breathes through his mouth, his eyes closed as pleasure fills every corner of his mind. You felt perfect.

“You feel so good,” he whines.

His cock twitched inside of your walls. He bites the inside of his mouth, trying to use pain to distract himself from the mind-blowing pleasure. Meanwhile, you clenched your pussy as if to see how much his cock had stretched you. The two of you gasped from the feeling.

“Fuc- ah!”

Coryo pulls out a few of his inches and begins to thrust in. You moan out, feeling pleasure in your veins and seeing stars in your eyes. Snow's hands were on either side of your head as he balanced himself above you. His dog tag dangles in front of your lips as his hips continue to move. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing his cock even deeper into you. Coriolanus lets out a groan from the feeling.

“I won't be able to last long,” he admits, his cheeks getting red. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he couldn't help but feel ashamed about how heavy his balls were with cum ready to be released inside of you.

“You will,” you whispered your hand on his nape. You squeeze it. “You will last as long as I fucking want, Coriolanus,” you said to him, pulling him down to meet your lips. The kiss was messy and open-mouthed. Another hand of yours was on his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin. You were marking him in your own way. With long, red scratches.

Coriolanus slows down, ready to please you however you want. You moan into his mouth and he eats the sound up. Coriolanus thrusts his hips faster, unable to truly control himself. How could he when you made him feel this good? He couldn't decide on the pace. He wanted this to last hours. He wanted to cum.

He kept switching between fast and slow until he found himself with his back on the floor. You are on top of him, your hands holding his hands above his head. “Be a good boy,” you said to him before you began to ride him.

You grind yourself against his cock, letting his cockhead kiss your spongy spot with each movement of your hips. Your arousal was coating your thighs and now it was on his skin as well. You were so wet and messy. Coriolanus loved it. You use one hand of yours to play with his balls. Coriolanus could feel his eyes rolling back.

“Don't- I-” he cries out in bliss when you squeeze his balls gently. You hush him with a kiss, your hips moving according to your will. You had set the perfect pace. It wasn't too much for either of you, letting the pleasure be prolonged.

He knew you were close with the way your push was contracting on his shaft. He knew you were close because your eyes were closed and fuck, you were cock drunk on him. He knew you were close because you had slowed down, and now rocking your hips back and forth. The hold you had on his hands had loosened. He breaks free without a fuss and places his hands on your hips.

He begins to push his hips up, fucking his cock into you. You whine, your eyes opening as you see him take control again. His teeth pulled at his lower lip, silencing his groans as he continues to fuck into you in this position. You use one of your hands to rub at your sensitive clit, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.

You tense, your pussy tightening around Coriolanus’ cock. Your only warning was the moan of his name as your cunt begins to spasm around his dick. Coriolanus lets out a deep groan, his lower lip bloody from how hard his teeth dug into the flesh. He fucks you throughout your orgasm.

“Get off,” he whines, “I can't cum inside of you.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?”

Coriolanus doesn't realize he's coming inside of you until he feels like jelly. He had stuffed you full of his thick, hot cum without a warning. But you had already stated you didn't give a fuck. So he supposed it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had you now.

Forever.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

Hours later, you and Coriolanus find yourself at the train station. Ready to go back to the Capitol, once and for all. Commander Hoff had personally come to escort you both.

Coriolanus was about to enter the train. You were already inside. But Commander Hoff stops him, “Son.” Coriolanus stills, waiting to hear what Hoff has to say.

“Don't let her go. You don't know what she had to keep you safe.”

Coriolanus looks Commander Hoff in the eyes and nods. “I won't,” he promises, knowing damn well he will keep it with his life. Coriolanus gets inside the train after saying goodbye. He stops before he opens the door to the cabin you were sitting in. He pulls up the sleeve of his shirt to look at his wrist. He grins as he sees the scar reverted to the number most important to you.

It was today's date.

Coriolanus slides the door and walks to his future.

Coriolanus walks to you.

[whotfelsewantedtobelynnyx]

Chat, I regret to inform you that I have added a new hyperfixation…so…

Agatha All Along Incorrect Quotes!

Alice: Hold the fuck up.

Also Alice, crawling into Lilia’s lap: It’s me. I’m the fuck up. Hold me.

Rio: I have an idea!

Jen: No murder.

Rio, sighing petulantly: I no longer have an idea.

Lilia: I have a bad feeling about this…

Agatha: What do you mean?

Alice: Don’t you ever get that little voice in the back of your head that tells you if something is going to get you in trouble?

Agatha: No.

Jen: That actually explains so much.

Lilia: As far back as I can remember, I’ve always had this little voice in my head telling me to “live it up today, because there’s not gonna be a lot of tomorrows”.

Agatha: You do realize there’s medication designed to get rid of those kinds of voices, right?

Teen: A bird flew in through my window and I’m trying to befriend it.

*later*

Agatha: Why don’t you quit bothering me and go talk to your bird friend?

Teen: Matthew and I are not speaking at the moment.

*the coven, huddling together behind a makeshift shelter to shield themselves from repeated gunshots*

Alice, hastily shoving the others behind her so she can return fire: Agatha, do you have any idea who would want to shoot you?!

Agatha, squashed between Jen and Rio: Many people want to shoot me. I take great pride in that!

Jen, glaring at the group as she hands over bail money:

Alice, tapping her shoulder: What about Teen?

Jen, glaring more: I’ve got to bail him out too? Where’s Agatha?

Teen: No one called her. We used Lilia’s phone call to call Alice and Rio’s to call you. Then Rio used my phone call to vote for American Idol.

Rio: :)

Jen: Rio isn’t answering her phone.

Agatha: Here, I’ll try.

Jen: Alice and I have tried six times each, what makes you think that-

Rio, picking up on the first ring: Hey, sweetheart.

Agatha: The ends always justify the means!

Jen: Do you know who said that?

Agatha: Was it Oprah or someone nice and great like that?

Jen: It was Machiavelli. A decidedly non-Oprah like person.

Jen: I bet you didn’t even finish the thing I asked you to get done!

Agatha: For your information, I most certainly did! Got it done last night!

Teen, whispering to Agatha: You didn’t get it done, did you?

Agatha, whispering back: I don’t even know what she’s talking about.

Lilia: I am at a loss for words!

Teen, glancing at the camera like his mom like he’s on The Office: Despite being lost for words, Lilia yelled at us for the next 45 minutes.

Agatha, carrying Señor Scratchy out of the room:

Señor Scratchy: *snuggles under her chin*

Agatha, kissing his head: You are being punished. Please stop being adorable. I love you.

Teen: I got a trampoline tent for summer sleepovers!

Jen, whispering to the other adult witches: …think of all the sex.

Alice: There are two types of people.

Rio: If you wanted to eat someone, you could put a fire under it and slowly roast them :)

Lilia: …three. Three types of people.

Jen, cautiously: I can’t believe I didn’t notice this before, but…Teen, you are a little crazy.

Teen: Aren’t we all a little crazy here, Jen?

Jen: No, I mean you’re aging-ballerina, child-chess-prodigy, professional magician kind of crazy.

Teen: It’s my mom’s fault. You know, we come from a Jewish family, but she used to tell me the reason Santa didn’t come was because my room was too dirty.

Rio: I’ve come looking for trouble. And if I can’t find trouble, I WILL create some.

Alice: Do you trust me?

Lilia, smiling proudly at her: Yes.

Alice, who has been completely panicking: Wait, what? Why?!

Agatha, awkwardly glancing around for help: Er…Alice, I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know what to say to people who are crying. So I’m just gonna hope that the tone of my voice makes you think I do, okay, sweetie?

Alice, sniffling: …thanks, Agatha.

Agatha, patting her on the back with a bit too much enthusiasm: No problem, kid.

Lilia: I told Agatha about it weeks ago!

Teen: She WHAT?

Agatha: What??? Lilia says insane shit all the time, how was I supposed to know this one was true?!

Lilia: Bank accounts are a sham created by the shadow government!

Agatha: SEE?!

BONUS:

Wanda, watching from the afterlife: so…when exactly do kids grow out of that whole emo, rebellious stage?

Lorna, shrugging: I don’t know. Alice is still in it.

[ghostieyanyan]

If it’s not too triggering for you, can I have Yandere Savanaclaw, Deuce and Silver with Yuu who lived in an abusive household in their home world? Their siblings and parents are straight up physically and verbally abusive that Yuu clings onto the Yandere of their choice for support?

~Abused!Mc~

Yan!Leona x Abused!Mc

Yan!Ruggie x Abused!Mc

Yan!Jack x Abused!Mc

Yan!Deuce x Abused!Mc

Yan!Silver x Abused!Mc

since there's a lot of characters for this one, each fanfic might be a little shorter than usual. i hope that's okay~

Warnings: Abused, Scars are mention, fighting, hinting kidnapping?,

~~~

Leona

Whether you've told him about your past or not. he knew something was up with you.

the way you let everyone walk all over you, to the students who had the guts to pick on you and actively cause you trouble. which Leona took care of them and the next time you see them, they had cuts and bruises all over... to the harmless request when you've already had so much on your plate...

to say it irritated him was an understatement, the next time he say you. you were doing some errands in the garden, where he was napping. behind some bushes and trees, he grabbed your arm, making you lose all the items you were holding, knocking you on the ground beside him.

Leona, as quick, cuddled up to you and used you as his pillow. Struggling was useless, and don't event think about persuading the lazy lion.

After that day, Leona will find you (If you try to run or hide from him, expect a bunch of Savannaclaw students to hunt you down.) and use you as his personal pillow.

If you ask him about it, he'll just say, in a sweet tone. (As sweet as Leona can without it sounding fake.) That he's just looking out for you~

"Everyone keeps using you... They have hands and feet, they could do it themselves... you need rest."

He just really enjoy taking you from everyone else and watching their faces become annoyed? what are they gonna do? confront him..? When he's done, you'll be at his beck and call~

~~~

Ruggie

Ruggie will 100% make you feel guilty on telling him no.

He was walking past you and your little group, when you're friends were fighting for your leftovers. While they were busy, he snuck up to you asking if you would give them to him~?

"Leona has me running everywhere for him, I haven't had time to get lunch for myself~"

He totally had eaten... but you didn't know that. When you agreed to give him your food, he leaps up and says, "you're my hero, perfect~! I would have been a goner without you~"

The next time, Leona just asked him to do something for him during his lunch break. That's where you come in.

"Hey Perfect! Could you help me with something~?"

This time you were busy and you needed to run some papers to Crewel, who was on the other side of the school...

"O-oh... That's okay... mph... i guess I'll have to skip this lunch break again.."

He made sure to tuck in his ears and tail to add for effects. before he could "wobble up" you quickly stopped him and told him that you'd help.

"Awww really? Thank you, Perfect~ I'd be lost without you~"

He made sure to give you a cute little smile while twitching his ears. he knew you loved his round ears and little tail~

Did he feel any guilty for doing these tricks on you? No that much. But he did think it was super cute on how gullible you can be sometimes~

~~~

Jack

Jack found out about your history by accident. You were changing after one of Grim's failed potions in Crewel's class. You rushed back to your dorm while Grim was scolded by Crewel and Jack was just on his way to return your stuff from that class.

He promised he knocked, but when he thought you said enter, he walked in on you changing! Your back was turned, until you heard the door open and spun around to find Jack. Jack's face was a mix of horror and red from embarrassment. He quickly shut the door and rushed down stairs, to cool off and to give you some space.

Once Jack sat on the couch to think, remembering you body and your scared expression. were you scared of someone peaking on you or where you scared of... something... no. someone else..? Who hurt you..? why do you have so many scars..? Some of those scars...You couldn't have done that yourself...

It took about half and hour for him to be back on to his normal self, as normal as you can be when you're worried for someone... It also took you the same amount of time to calm yourself and to explain to Jack about what happened.

when you told him your story, you watched his face the entire time. his face told you that he was listen to everything but from his ears and tail you could tell his not happy...

After you finish, some tears shed, he hugged you and swear that he'll protect you from anyone and everything.

Deep down in his heart, he knew he has to make you see that you cant return back to your world. Even if you have "good things" in your world, he doesnt want to risk it.

So he made a vow for himself, he'll make you see that he could protect you and you could only live a better life... with him.

~~~

Deuce

Deuce likes you a lot. You were the first person to like him for him. You didn't make fun of his short comings. You didn't mind his history. You are just so sweet and he just wants to protect you forever!

He found out about some NRC student picking on you for some of the scars you have, he say red.

He momentary blacked out but what he remember was that he looks at you and you were curled into a back, covering your ears, eyes tightly shut, and you were talking to yourself..?

The next thing he knew it, the teacher came and took him off the students.

He's getting punished with the other students for fighting, he got an ear full from the teachers and from his housewarden. But despite everything, the only thing that was running through his mind was, why did you react like that..?

He remember from back in his delinquent phase that everyone, either ran away or just stand in horror..? But you just sat there like... like a kid that-

Mid-Riddle scolding him, he ran out of Heartlabsyul and ran to Ramshackle Dorm to check on you.

When you greeted Deuce, worried on why he ran to your dorm, he grabs you into a hug and was repeating sorry's for scaring you and making you relive hurtful memories...

You sigh, sat him down, and explain your past. saying 'yes, what happened was stressful but he was friend and you knew he had good intentions'

He hugged you again and made a mental note on not taking care of people like those bullies in front of you next time...

~~~

Silver

He always noticed you hanging out with Sebek, which he appreciated and Malleus and Lilia only has good things to say about you too, which was nice.

He kinda wished he had more interactions with you but with being in different classes, different grades, different activities, plus his habit of sleeping. He can understand why you two don't interact.

But luckily for him, fate had other plans.

Silver had a sleeping spell when he was on a bench at school while everyone was in class. You were running an errand for Crowley so you were outside of class with some not so light boxes, then you ran into him.

When he opened his eyes, there you were gently shaking him awake, asking if he's okay. He thought it was sweet that you asked if he need you to walk him to the nurse.

Instead of heading straight to class, he asked if he could help you?

You were against it at right but with Silver adorable sleepy face, you did have the heart to say no.

While he was helping you, you two talked and shared stories about Malleus, Lilia, and Sebek. Maybe Silver is a little gullible, but he thought you were magicless? How did you place a charm spell on him without a wand? or an incantation?

After helping and continuing classes until the school day was over, Silver went to Lilia to ask him if the magicless human can preform spells?

Lilia had to take a few minutes to explain to his son that he's just fallen in love.

"Say Silver, if you want to charm them back~ This is what you should do~"

Too bad for for you, Lilia gave him his "dating advice" which are very much illegal now.... different time and all...

~~~

[awkness]

Serial killer! Platonic! Yandere Older Brother & Genderneutral Teenage Reader (Part 2)

(Part 1) (Part 3)

As reader tries to adjust to their new life without their father, a number of concerning incidents occur, including off-putting behavior from your brother, prevents that from happening. But despite everything, you make a new friend. Surely, this can only mean good things for you, right? Things must be looking up!

Content warnings: implied murder, manipulation, domestic abuse, briefly mentioned alcoholism and child abuse, and general yandere shenanigans. If I missed anything here, please let me know :3

Authors note: lmao I have no excuse for being this late I'm just slow. This was originally supposed to be the last chapter but it got too long so I had to split it up. It feels like a bit of filler but I promise we'll get to the good stuff soon it just needs some set up. Part 3 should be the last part so I'll try not to be too slow uploading (<- lying)

There were very few things about your father you liked, but his house was one of them. It was something he had inherited from his father, who Ben would inherit as soon your father could be pronounced legally dead. It came with a master bedroom, two normal bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room, a kitchen, the basement, and an attic.

The attic was something you had always been fascinated with as a child. It was spacious, fully insulated and even had an openable window. It could have been a bedroom all on its own. As a child, you had often daydreamed of moving your stuff up there, utilizing the bigger space for blanket forts and storing all the toys your little heart could desire. In reality, it was used in the same way the basement was, except it stored much more valuable items. Holiday decorations, clothes, old valuables that had no room to be displayed, and whatever family heirlooms your late father kept were shoved up above your head, taking space that could have been used for you. You had thought you had grown out of this fantasy, content with the room you had, but with your father gone and your brother running the house, the childhood dream had crept its way back into the front of your mind, tempting you with visions of a bigger, cooler room.

So, after working up the courage, you finally asked Ben if you could move up there. It surprised you just how easily he said yes.

And now you're here, Ben helping you sort through trash and treasure alike as you both clear out the room.

You pulled an unlabeled box from the seemingly endless pile, the top covered in dust and cobwebs. You try not to think about how many spiders are in the room with you now. Cleaning them out will be a trouble for another day.

The box opens easily, cardboard weak from age, a musty smell emanating from within. You look inside, only to be left dumbfounded. Why were there women's clothes in here?

"Hey, Ben, do you know whose clothes these are?"

Ben looks up from his own box, a vaguely confused look on his face. As he makes his way towards your box, you watch it drop into a frown.

"Those are moms."

"Oh." Is all you can say.

An awkward moment passes between you two as Ben stares into the box, face strange as he becomes lost in thought. You decide to break the tension.

"Why do you think he kept them?"

He looks away from the box and towards you, his body slowly beginning to relax.

"He was always a sentimental man, I guess that's reason enough for him."

You let out a snort. "What's there to be sentimental over? She cheated on him, divorced him, and then dumped us on him. She's not exactly a woman worth pining over."

"I'm not arguing with you, but you remember how he was. Couldn't ever let anything go."

He began rummaging through it, quickly getting to the bottom before closing it back up.

"Nothing but clothes. We should probably donate this."

You give a nod as you watch him put it in the growing donation pile. That was going to be such a pain to bring down to the car.

Instead of thinking about that, though, you turn your head to the box that Ben was searching through before you called him over.

"Is this one mom's too?"

Before you get an answer, you take a peek inside, only to once again be at a loss for how something like this could be in your home.

Inside was an assortment of strange objects. A broken polaroid camera, a stained photo album, and an array of metal objects like locks, deadbolts, and... were those shackles?

Before you could make out any more objects, Ben had made his way to you and reached over to close the flaps of the box.

"I doubt it, probably just more junk he couldn't throw away."

He turned around to you and smiled, hands holding the flaps shut.

"Want to do me a favor and go start bringing the donation boxes to the car?"

"Ugh, why do I have to bring them down?"

"Because you're the one who wanted to move up here."

You glared at him as his smile turned into an amused smirk, before you finally gave a huff and picked up a box from the pile.

"Jerk."

"Brat." The smile never left his face.

With only moderate trouble, you navigated your way down the stairs and out the door, making your way to the car. Unfortunately, you had only realized you forgot the keys when you tried to open the door to pop the trunk open.

You quietly mumble curses under your breath as you set the box next to the car, ready to make the trip back inside. Instead, you go completely still as you catch a look at the people across the street.

It was a small group of high schoolers your age, maybe older, who go to your school. They were standing the the yard across the street, a few houses down, talking together to throwing glances in your direction. Your ears strain as they try to make out their incoherent babble. They couldn't have known about your situation, could they? Or at least, what the official story was. It had been over a month since that happened, it doesn't make sense that they would be talking about it now. But you were just moving boxes out of the house such a short time after it happened. That looks suspicious, doesn't it? Of course it does. Why did you have to ask to move into the attic now?

You had been standing like a deer in headlights, openly staring for what felt like minutes before one of them seemingly made eye contact with you. You avert your gaze down as you feel your cheeks grow hot and your hands grow sweaty. A chorus of laughter erupts from the group.

Without thinking, you rush up to the door, fling it open, and slam directly into Ben as he was carrying. You hear it hit the floor as you speed walk past him.

"Wha- Hey! (Y/N)! What happened?"

You didn't reply. You barely even heard his words. Panic had fully taken over and kept you moving away from Ben, away from the door, away from the outside world, and all the judgemental people it contained.

You finally make it to your room, shutting the door behind you, and seating yourself on your bed, trying to get your bearings. 

Tears begin stinging your eyes as your shaky hands try and wipe them away. You wonder if they were still laughing at you.

A soft knock comes from your door, and your body shrinks inward, unprepared for the upcoming talk.

"Kid? Can I come in?"

You don't reply. You know Ben is going to come in anyway.

He waits a beat before opening the door, his face the picture of concern. His footsteps are quiet, and his movements gentle as he sits next to you. You find your body leaning away from him.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

You shrug, turning your head away from him. Even if you did want to talk, you couldn't trust your voice right now.

"Alright, that's fine, we can figure it out together. Was it something to do with mom's clothes?"

You don't move. Maybe if you don't answer, he'll leave and let you deal with your embarrassment in peace.

"The attic?"

A pause.

"Something in the box you were carrying...? Or maybe something outside?"

You stiffen, and immediately try to make yourself relax. Maybe he didn't notice?

"Does this have something to do with the neighbors?"

Oh. Nevermind.

Despite your best efforts, your body language must have given you away again. You hear the bed creak as he gets up, the blinds rustling a moment later as he gives a huff.

"It's those kids across the street, isn't it?" His voice takes on an edge of irritation, and you feel yourself curl inwards again.

The bed shifts as he takes his seat next to you again, a comforting hand placed on your shoulder. His voice takes on the softer quality it had before.

"I can't help you if you don't help me, kid. Did they talk to you?"

You shake your head, trying to talk, but finding the words stuck in your throat.

"They-" Your voice falters and you clear your throat, barely able to speak above a whisper.

"They didn't have to. I could see them looking at me and laughing, I knew they were talking about me, just like all the neighbors do whenever they see us. It's like they know. And these-"

You sniff, snot beginning to run and throat burning as you talk. Ben squeezes your shoulder, and you continue.

"These people go to my school, Ben. They know me. When I have to go back, they'll talk and tell everyone and the whole school will know what happened. They'll treat me different, they'll ask questions, and I won't know what to tell them-"

Your quivering voice finally gives out, and you cover your face. Ragged, irregular breaths come out as you try to force back the wave of emotions you've just unleashed. Gently, Ben pulls you to his chest as he rubs your back, murmuring gentle reassurances you couldn't quite hear.

Moments pass until your breathing finally evens out, eyes dry but still red and puffy. You slowly pull back and he lets you, his face full of worry. His hand still remains on your shoulder, an ever-present weight.

"You've had this on your mind for a long time, haven't you?"

You give a feeble nod. The thought of having to return to school had been weighing on you, but you hadn't realized how bad it had been until now. The thought is almost enough to send you spiraling again.

"I don't want to go back."

Ben gives you a smile. "You don't have to."

Your mind freezes for an instant, any and all thought muddled into incohereency.

"What?"

"Why don't I sign you up for online school this year? I remember you talking about wanting to do it a couple of months back, so why not now?"

"I..."

Your brows furrow. You did tell Ben that you wanted to do online school a couple of months ago before summer started. But this wasn't a new wish. You had been dreaming of being homeschooled since you had dreamed of living in the attic. Troubles in finding friends and fitting in had always followed you throughout the years until you realized the futility of it all, and only dreamt of a home where you didn't have to leave, and Ben and you could spend your days in peace. But the reality of your father's abuse had made school a begrudgingly safe haven of yours and you had slowly given up on that dream, too. But now that it was fully within your hands, you found yourself hesitating. Why? There was no monster in your home anymore, you were safe, and there's no reason to say no.

"I don't know."

He smiled.

"It wouldn't have to be permanent, just for this year. And if you don't like it, I can reenroll you back into your old school, so your options are always open. Plus, you're right, (Y/N). I know how cruel kids can be, especially when they're confronted with situations and people they don't understand. I don't want you to face that if you don't have to."

You gnaw on your lip, unsure of what to say. Ben was right on all accounts, the things he was saying made sense, and yet you couldn't find yourself saying yes. Why couldn't you let yourself have this?

"Can I think on it?"

Ironically, it came out of your mouth before you could think at all.

He nodded, his good-humored smile still on his face. You let out a small breath, so glad to still see it there.

"Of course, kid, it's a big decision. Take your time."

He gave your shoulder one last pat before getting up.

"I'm going to move the rest of the boxes in the car and go drop them off. You want me to pick up dinner on the way back?"

"Yeah, I'm fine with whatever."

"Alright. Rest up, I'll be back soon."

Unable to say much else, you nod as he gives you one last smile before he heads out the door, closing it behind him.

You rub your eyes, your body slowly unwinding from the tension just moments prior, until it gives in and you lay down on your bed.

With nothing else left to do, you crawl under your covers, the familiar comfort of the soft and worn fabric soothing your nerves. Distantly, you hear the sound of Ben's footsteps as he makes his way back and forth from the attic, the familiar and comforting sound lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning was pretty uneventful. Ben was off at work while you continued clearing the attic, sorting out the junk and keepsakes, only occasionally getting scared by the stray spiders that had made their home in the crevices between the boxes.

By noon, everything was sorted, with the only thing left being to take the boxes to be donated or tossed in the trash. But you needed Ben to help you with that, so you found yourself heading down to the kitchen, heating instant noodles in the microbe, wondering what you were going to do until he got home.

Around this time is when you usually went to go check the mail, but since yesterday, the thought of having to leave the house left you with an uneasy feeling, tension building in your spine and shoulders the longer you thought of it. A part of you was ashamed that you couldn't even walk out to the mailbox without it being a big deal, and another, much larger part, found immense relief in the thought of abandoning the task altogether, and not having any more chance encounters like yesterday. The more you considered it, the more you found your body sagging in relief. Yeah, Ben can grab it when he gets home, you're sure he wouldn't mind. It's no big deal.

The microwave beeps and you grab the noodles, all thought of the outside quickly leaving your head.

You had just dumped the flavor packet in when you heard a knock at the door.

Your heart, ashamed you were to admit, skipped a beat, and you froze mid-action, breath catching roughly in your throat. Who could that be? Maybe that was Ben, and he had just forgot his keys? No, that's stupid, he wouldn't be home this early, and he never forgets his keys. With no other answers coming to mind, you quietly set the packet down and got up to the door to peek through the peephole.

On the other side of the door stood one of your neighbors, a kid your age. You see him the most often out of all of your neighbors, often doing yard work and tending to the flowers in his front yard. He was also the guy you caught staring at you the most. Well, maybe staring wasn't completely accurate, but whenever you looked his way, you two would usually make eye contact before one of you shyly looked away. You didn't know why, and it played havoc on your nerves. He wore a hoodie despite the summer heat and had an envelope in his hand. He looked nervous.

You pull away and bring your hand to undo the locks before stopping.

For one glorious, tempting moment, you picture yourself turning around, going back to your noodles, and taking them upstairs and away from the door to eat in peace until Ben comes home.

Instead, you undo the locks and open the door.

Your neighbor looks slightly taken aback like he didn't expect anyone to answer. You try not to notice.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Oh, uh, hi! I'm Alex, your neighbor. I live right next to you, the house to the right, well- uh, my right, your left. The one with the red car and lawn gnomes out front?"

He gestures sheepishly towards his house, face nearing the complexion of a tomato.

"Nice to meet you, Alex. I'm (Y/N)."

The social protocols of politeness take over, unable to fully pay attention as your mind stalls, still in a state of shock from the anxiety of the situation.

"(Y/N)? That's a nice name." He smiles at you before quickly looking at the ground.

He hands the envelope over to you, speaking as you look over it.

"Uh, I just wanted to drop this off. I think our mail got mixed up."

Sure enough, the envelope had your brother's name and address on it.

"Oh, thank you." You say lamely.

For a beat, you wonder if you should say something more. It felt wrong to just leave the conversation as it was and close the door, but what else were you supposed to say? Before you can think about it, he speaks again.

"I, uh, wanted to say that I heard about what happened to your dad, and I'm sorry."

Again, your heartbeat skips, and you stiffen, body alert, eyes wide. You probably look like a deer caught in headlights in front of him if he wasn't still looking at the ground. The thought would embarrass you if it weren't for the sharp spike of adrenaline hitting your veins.

"I... I had a dad like him too."

And just like that, your body pauses its panic response, and you find yourself fully focused on him as he continues.

"I thought it would be easier after me and my mom moved away, and it has been, but those kinds of experiences don't just go away, and I wanted to say that you aren't alone."

You still felt a little wired from the previous scares, you you felt a strange sense of ease slowly pass through you at his words.

You stare at him, as he stares down, no words passing between you two before you finally speak.

"Thank you."

You only hesitate for a moment before continuing.

"It has been rough, but it's been more of a relief than anything. It's nice not having to hide away in my room until he leaves."

He looks up, a small smile gracing his face as he finally relaxes.

"Yeah, it's nice not having to check to see if he passed out in the house again."

You find your lips quirking up. "Or having to check his pulse when he is passed out."

"Not having to worry about him throwing a fit whenever he runs out of beer despite him being the one who drank it all."

"Not having to constantly hide food in your room so you have a supply when he does throw his tantrums"

Alex gave a disbelieving laugh.

"Yours let you get food out of the kitchen? There was a lock on the fridge and pantry when I lived with mine."

Your smile widened into one of disbelief, amusement, and shock. "What the hell? Why?"

"Kept getting upset that the food would go missing. Worst part is, every time he got blackout drunk, he'd binge eat, pass out and get mad at us for eating all the food."

You couldn't help it. You started giggling, and he started giggling, unable to react in any other way to the absurdity of it all.

"Sorry! I really shouldn't laugh-" You began, failing to stifle the laughter.

"Don't be!" He said. "He's a stupid guy, you should laugh at him."

You both share the moment, the laughter slowly dying down as you both take your first good look at each other. In this moment, you see something you can't help but talk about.

"Is that a minecraft necklace?"

He looks surprised, but pleasantly so. He glances down before holding it up with a grin. The pendant was the shape of a creeper head.

"Yeah, I'm a big fan!"

He puts it back down and his demeanor changes back to being sheepish, but not painfully so like he was before.

"I have minecraft for Xbox and a spare controller at my house. If you want, you can come over and play?"

It was your turn to be nervous again.

On one hand, you wanted to say 'absolutely'. You couldn't remember the last time you got invited to hang out, and the thought of something as normal as playing a video game with a friend was something you needed. Well, maybe you couldn't call him a friend yet, but you feel like you could, given enough time. Plus, after being so afraid of your neighbors and leaving your house, having someone come up to you and act so warm and friendly made you feel soft. It was hard to say no to that.

On the other hand, you had the nagging, unnameable feeling that Ben would be, upset, but you couldn't think up any concrete reason as to why. In fact, if you focused on that feeling too long, your mind went blank.

Sure, you were going about out of the house without him knowing, but Ben has always been supportive of you. Sure, he's never really discussed rules about going over to a friend's house because the situations never come up, but he's fairly easygoing. You were sure that if you explained why you went, he would be understanding. Happy, even.

Plus, you were only going next door, you had your phone on you, and you would be back before Ben came home, so it's not like he had to even know what happened. Not that you wanted to lie to him, but something about that option comforted you more than any of the other things you listed.

Discomfort pushed aside, you gave a smile back to Alex.

"Sure thing, let me grab my phone."

It could have been the perfect hangout. Alex's mom was nice, bringing you two snacks and telling stories from Alex's childhood despite his embarrassment, as you two hung out in the living room while he helped you figure out the controls. Soon enough, you two were building a base together, laughing at each other as a creeper or sneaky skeleton would get kills on you both.

You were halfway through making the third story of the base when your phone started ringing. You felt your heart drop to your stomach when you saw Ben's picture on the screen.

"Shit."

You immediately pocketed in and got up.

"What's wrong?" He paused the game and looked up.

"I wasn't supposed to stay so late, my brother's probably home by now."

You went over to the window and peeked through the blinds, and as fate would have it, you saw his car in the driveway.

You hear Alex speak from the couch, voice slightly concerned.

"You're not going to get in trouble, are you?"

That was the question, wasn't it?

"I... don't think so. Maybe? I've never been out late before."

"If you want, I can come with you and explain what happened. I'll take the blame."

Despite your growing worry, you felt a pang of gratitude come through. You gave a small smile.

"That's okay, he'll probably be a little mad, but I don't think it's that serious."

You headed to the door, Alex following behind.

"Hey, on the chance you don't get grounded or whatever, here's my phone number."

You look back and see him scribbling on a piece of paper before he hands it over to you. You take it and look at sloppy, but thankfully still legible writing, and give a bigger, more genuine smile.

"I'll text you later. If I still have my phone, that is." You joke, or at least try to.

He gives a smile and a wave as you turn back and exit the front door.

As it closes behind you, the warmth of the interaction slowly leaches from you and leaves you feeling cold and rattled.

You didn't fully believe the things you said to Alex. You had no real idea what Ben would like because you had never gone against what he said before. The thought alone turned your stomach into knots. It was simply how you two functioned, Ben was the one in charge and made the big decisions, and you listened. Sure, he never had any explicit rules about this, but that didn't mean anything.

As you made the short walk to your home, you began strategizing.

You should do damage control right away, start apologizing straight away, and let him know where you were and what you were doing. Wait, should you mention Alex? At that thought, you shoved the paper with his number deep in your pocket. You didn't want Ben to see it.

Before you could think about it anymore, you were at your front door. Your back tensed, and you hesitated only a moment before opening the door. Waiting would only make it worse.

Before you can fully step in, you see Ben pacing the kitchen, brows furrowed, face strained. As soon as he heard you, his head whipped up, and you felt yourself freeze like a rabbit spotted by a wolf. Frozen, unable to do anything else than stare.

"(Y/N)?"

Just like that, you were broken out of your trance, finally allowed to move again.

You step in all the way and close the door behind you.

"I'm sorry! I didn't think I'd be out that long, I wasn't keeping track of time, I-"

Your voice died the moment you looked back to Ben's face, his features looked so... angry. You've never seen him look at you like that before, never seen him look like that at all. It set off a loud, blaring warning in your brain that something was wrong, and that you needed to leave. But that was crazy. This is Ben, your brother, you were fine.

You tried to start again.

"I was..."

It tapered off as you saw him move towards you, movement swift and robotic as he kept his attention on you. Without thinking, you shrunk back.

"Ben-"

Before you could finish he's in front of you, grabbing your shoulders so tightly it's borderline painful. You grip his arms, weakly trying to push away, knowing better than to seriously try.

"Where were you?"

There was such a dangerous edge to his voice that you couldn't think, couldn't look away. Your breaths came out shallow and your voice so tiny you could barely hear it.

"With the neighbors."

That only made him angrier.

"What neighbors? We don't talk to the neighbors here."

Oh, you were shaking now.

"With- with the neighbors right next to us, the Rogers. I was hanging out with Alex-"

"Who the Hell is Alex?"

His grip got tighter as he shook you, and you could feel the bruises forming. You started pushing at him again, but your arms trembled so badly you might as well not have tried.

"B-Ben, it hurts."

Your voice was so thick with emotion that it was hardly coherent, but Ben understood.

His face blanked for a moment, body shocked to stillness as you continued to try and leave. Then, without warning, he let you go, turned his back and walked a few paces away from you, pinching his nose as he let out a sharp breath.

You listen to him as he takes deep breaths while you rub your sore arms, snot beginning to run as your eyes turn wet. As you step away, you feel your back pressed against the door, and you have the fleeting idea to open it and run away. You realize what you're thinking, and the idea terrifies you so deeply you stay rooted to the spot.

Finally, Ben turns back, face still hardened but not as severely as before.

"Who's Alex?"

You sniff. You really didn't want to do this anymore.

"He's the neighbor's kid. Our mail got mixed up and he brought it over to me, and invited me over to hang out."

You probably should have stopped there, but some scared, hurt part of you needed Ben to understand that you didn't mean this, it wasn't your fault. Your voice cracked as you continued.

"I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. It was only supposed for a little bit, I didn't think I would be over for so long, just an hour or two. I- I didn't mean for this to happen, I should- I should of called you."

You stopped, but only because the shaking in your hands had spread to your voice, and you didn't think you could keep going without sounding like a complete mess.

His face didn't soften for a moment, staring blankly as you had gone on. After it ended, he closed his eyes, rubbed his face and gave a sharp sigh.

You couldn't read him when he looked away. Was he calming down? Did that make him more upset? Every second that ticked by frayed your already worn-out nerves. You were only one yell away from bursting into tears.

He looked up again, face the same as it was before.

"Do you know what it's like to come home with the door unlocked and see you missing, with no goddamn clue where you could be? What was I supposed to think? You didn't even pick up your damn phone!"

He stopped, took a breath, and then continued, a dangerously calm edge to his voice.

"And then you tell me you decided to stay over at a stranger's house without calling me? A person you only met today? They could of been anybody, anything could happened to you. I thought you had better sense than that."

It stung.

"I'm sorry."

It sounded small and pathetic, even to your own ears.

He let out a sigh.

"Go to your room. We'll talk about this more later."

You don't think twice. You rush away on shaky legs to your room and quietly close the door behind you, afraid of doing anything else to set him off. The bed lets out a soft creak as you sit down. You gather your quivering hands in your lap and look down on them, not sure what to do with yourself.

Before you can think about it any further, you hear the front door open and slam shut, then the car turning on and driving away.

As it quiets down, you can't help it. Stifled sobs climb their way out of your chest, feeling like they're choking you until you can't resist anymore. You collapse on your bed, openly crying until you exhaust yourself to sleep.

The next morning felt almost surreal. You woke up to hearing Ben walking about the house as he did his morning routine. Usually, you would be out of the room right now doing the same, with you both then sitting down to eat breakfast together until it was time for him to leave. This time, you stayed in bed the entire time, idly scrolling your phone as you listened to his footsteps.

A part of you expected him to knock at your door, and ask you why you weren't out yet. Instead, you heard the sizzle of eggs hitting a hot pan as they cooked, and after a short few moments, the front door opening, closing, and locking behind him. The familiar sounds of the car's engine slowly faded away, and you finally got out of your bed, ready to start your day.

You decided to text Alex. You were hesitant to give the details of what happened, simply saying that Ben was upset and things were tense, and thankfully, Alex never pushed it. Instead, he started sending you memes and talking about his ideas for the minecraft world you both started. It was surprising how easy it was to talk to him, the conversation going for hours before he had to leave to help with dinner.

When it was time for Ben to come home, you scurried back to your room, feeling relieved but guilty when you closed the door. On one hand, you could still feel the fear you had last night, and you had no idea what to do with it. It was perplexing and off-putting, and thinking too hard on it made you feel like your brain was turning to static, so you opted to not think about it at all, which meant avoiding your brother as well.

But the guilt wouldn't let you be. It turned what should have been the comfort of your room into a place of wrongness, that you were doing something awful by keeping yourself here and not going down to see him like you usually did. Your lip began to bleed, and only then you realized you had been chewing on it since you heard Ben's car pull in.

You contemplated texting Alex for a distraction as you heard him make his way into the house. And then, step by step, make his way way to the hallway, and then to your door.

And then, the knock.

"Can I come in?"

You don't know if you want to answer, so you don't.

"I know you're awake, kid. Your lights on."

Thoughts raced through your mind as you tried to figure out what to do. For a moment, your mind latched onto the idea that you could pretend to be asleep, but you immediately shrugged it off. This was going to happen anyway, might as well happen now.

"Come in."

The door opens, and you see Ben, completely exhausted, his gaze nervously flitting towards you and the floor as he carried a fast food bag in his hand.

"I brought dinner."

You instinctively perk up at the mention of food, and he takes that as a sign to step closer and sit on the far side of the bed, bag between you two, as he clasped his hands together. His leg starts to quickly bounce before he stops it.

"Figured I'd pick up something on the way home. Didn't feel like cooking.

You nod, even though there's something in you that compels you to do or say more to try and ease his nerves. Even now, after what he did, you hate to see him upset. You try to push the urge to comfort down as you pointedly look away.

Both of you sit in silence while looking anywhere but at each other. In your peripheral, you can see him fidgeting with his hands.

"I know I scared you last night, I just-"

He nervously shifts in his seat. His voice is halting but sincere.

"It worried me, seeing you gone. You mean so much to me, (Y/N). Ever since you were born, I've been there to take care of you. I can't remember a time without you, and I don't want to. You're a part of me, without you, I... I don't even know who I am."

You look over at him and freeze. You're big brother, the man who protected you and cared for you your whole life, is bunched in on himself, face strained and twitching with barely contained emotion as he doggedly stares directly ahead, like looking at you would hurt him. His eyes are red and dark circles frame them. You swallow, years of experience screaming at you to reach over and comfort him, but instead, you sit, never once looking away as he continues talking.

"I shouldn't have done that to you, kid. I should of known better. Should of contained myself. I try so hard for you, but there's times it feels like it isn't enough, and it keeps me up at night."

He sniffs, and your eyes begin to blur.

"I never wanted to be like that in front of you, you didn't deserve to see that. I-"

He wipes his hands over his face, taking a deep breath as he tries to collect himself. After a beat, he uncovers his face and finally looks at you.

"I'm sorry."

It was like a spell had been broken. You found yourself pushing a food to the side and leaning against his shoulder. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around you, and when you didn't resist, he reached his other arm around you, pulled you into his chest, and began softly rocking you back and forth.

You feel the rise and fall of his chest, and it feels the same as you did as a kid when you would run up to him when something scared you, or when you felt your emotions overwhelm you. He would hold you tight and it felt like you were in the safest place in the world. The relief of that feeling after everything you had been through was like coming home.

Still safely tucked in his arms, you spoke again, voice more quiet and child-like than you meant it to be.

"Promise me you won't do that again."

The mere thought of him acting so uncontrollably and violently towards you was enough to make you nauseous.

He squeezed you tight.

"I promise, kid, never again."

You nodded, unable to reply. The both of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he slowly began letting you go.

After getting fully untangled, you rub your eyes, a feeling of exhaustion settling in as your stomach rumbles.

"I'm hungry."

"Hi hungry, I'm Ben."

His reply is so quick, you think it's automatic for him.

You shoot him a glare, but it's undermined by your smile. He returns it with one of his own.

"You wanna go down and eat? I got you a milkshake too, it's down in the kitchen. But might be a bit melted by now."

You spring up, fast food bag in hand as you make your way towards the door.

"Why didn't you say so, let's go!"

You hear him let out a chuckle, and you let out one reflectively, too.

You both share the meal together, talking and laughing late into the evening, until it was finally time to sleep. You drifted off easily into a deep, restful sleep, finally at peace.

[colorquest]

~☆~

D: Hey, hey, how much you wanna bet I can jump from the ladder to that chest without getting hurt? D: I'll land on all fours. M: I'm not sure I really want to bet anything on that, D... S: If there's anyone who could do that, it'd be you Debbie. D: Okay both of those answers are useless to me. D: Vilmr can you at least pretend you don't believe I'll make it so I can rub it in your face when I do? V: ... 🔆 D: Vilmr? S: You look deep in thought Vilmr, what's on your mind? V: I am just starting to wonder... V: If maybe we should ask Maja, if we should be streaming this. D: Are you serious. M: Do you mean from a legal standpoint, or...? V: I am thinking more about our karma. V: What if we are attracting bad company, observing this as skeptics? D: Well then you shouldn't have to worry because you're not the one seeing it. V: I can worry for your safety too, you know. S: It's nice of you to worry for us Vilmr, but I think it's alright. D: Yeah a million jillion people have seen eclipses before and ended up okay. D: Probably. D: I mean how else would we be here right now. V: Mmh... V: Maybe...

S: Oh hey, I know we can't tonight, but... S: You know what'd be fun tomorrow night? D: What? S: We should play night tag again! 🔆 S: Since the moon's so new it'll still be extra dark out. S: I know how much you like night tag Vilmr! V: Only if it's not in the woods this time! V: I hate it when Debbie hides in the trees. V: We can never find her! D: Hey okay, nobody ever said it was against the rules. V: Well I want it to be against the rules now. D: Pssh. D: Not my fault I'm super smart and think like, five steps ahead. S: Well, we could fly down somewhere more wide open if Yuan is around tomorrow night? D: Fuuuuuuuck yes, I'd be so down. M: Oh, I don't think I can tomorrow. S: *gasp* S: Oh my gosh right, tomorrow is your first night at the comic shop isn't it? M: Yeah, but I don't mind if you guys go ahead without me! D: Excuses, excuses... D: If you're scared of getting owned just say so. M: You got me, D. M: My job is just an elaborate ploy to avoid losing at tag. S: Well maybe we could save it for another day and go comic shopping instead? :> D: What the heck, are we gonna be shopping for like, hours? D: We could still play night tag, like, we can do both-- OH! D: Ohhhhh, if we do go though, Michael you BETTER remember to bring that hat. M: Haha, of course D.

S: *yawwwwwn* S: Vilmr, you still seem pretty agitated, are you that worried? V: What do you think? D: I'm not even gonna get innnnnnto this anymore! D: Honestly I think it's just so stupid silly. D: If you don't even believe in this stuff for real, what is even your reasoning this time? V: Debbie, just because I do not worship a moon god does not mean I do not believe in bad karma. V: With or without gods, things are always at play in this universe. V: It is not stupid, not to me. V: What happens if it really is a bad omen? V: What if we're doing something really dumb right now? V: Just to say you got to see it? D: Jeez Vilmr, you gave me your cell so you could avoid talking like this! D: I might as well be replaying Maja's voicemail, you two sound so similar. V: You are impossible! M: Vilmr, we're not the only ones watching this livestream.🔆 M: I'm seeing there's at least another fifty on the same page. M: Do you think they're in trouble too? V: Yes, I do. V: I'm really starting to think this stream shouldn't be up in the first place. V: There is a reason why this eclipse is in such a remote part of the planet. V: Think about it. V: The only places this can even be observed at all are either in the middle of the emptiest ocean in the whole world, or on the furthest edge of all of Halvma. V: Nobody even lives there. V: It's almost like nobody's meant to be seeing this one. S: What do you think is going to happen, Vilmr?

V: I! V: I do not know. V: But it feels like something bad. V: The air is biting all around me, I can feel it. S: Vilmr, I don't mean this in any sort of judgemental way or anything, but... S: You tend to say these kinds of things about a lot of things. S: And things usually end up alright. V: Ah, but see you fail to realise, you use the keyword: "usually." V: As in, not always. V: Sometimes, things still go bad. M: ...you do seem to have some pretty impressive foresight from time to time, I have to give it to you. V: Thank you. D: Okay well nothing's gonna stop me from watching this, sorry not sorry. D: If it means I'll die, at least I did it watching something cool, right Samantha? S: ... D: .........Smumantha...... S: Well now I'm nervous! V: And there is good reason for this! D: Well duh, you scared her into feeling that way! D: -_-!!! M: Okay, I know I complimented your foresight just now Vilmr but I really do think it's... a bit of a stretch? M: This time, I mean. M: Like, uh, aside from the fact that this might be legally dubious, D: enough with that already we gettttt it we get it. M: I think we'll be okay. M: It's not like we're actually seeing it in real life, you know? M: It's just a projection of it, after all. S: Oh, I guess that's a good point. D: Literally such a good point, probably the best point you've ever made actually Michael. V: Blughghhhhhh...

D: It's already about to start anyways, huhuhuhUAHAH!!! S: Ahhh no okay I'm still scared! M: It's just a video Samantha, nothing divine about that! V: Maja förlåt miggggggg... D: No turning back now, scaredyturds!

<[Last] || [Next]>

[luza-wayne]

drunk talk.

bokuto koutarou x reader

wc: 1.3k

i like the little hurt i felt, rereading this fufu. i remembered i posted this on one of my old tmblr acc. pls request to me, i'm begging T^T

you were woken up from your afternoon nap when you heard your phone went off continuously. you grumpily reached for it on the nightstand just beside the bed.

as if a spell was cast on you, your expression immediately lit up, when you saw the notification.

bokuto has been more expressive and more clingy this past week. he does things like staring at you while you do work and he'd always bring you sweets and flowers every time he came home.

just yesterday, he brought you another necklace.

though you want to know why he's like that, you don't mind it, in fact, you love it. that's why you make sure to show him how much you love him too.

you looked at the time on your phone and it's already quarter to five.

i guess i should clean up the house. you thought as you fixed your hair and stood up.

...

*ding dong* 

you were woken up from your slumber for the second time today when the sound of the doorbell rang throughout the living room of the house you shared with your boyfriend.

ah bad. i fell asleep while cleaning. 

you drowsily rubbed your eyes as you walked to the door, not minding the unfinished work.

you opened it and there was akaashi looking so done with his life, while your partner hanged on his left shoulder.

“akaashi, did he drink that much?” you said looking at him pitifully.

“yeah,” he stated. “...but he's acting weird today.”

you wanted to ask what he meant, but you told him to get in first to at least place bokuto on the couch and rest his shoulder.

he softly throws his previous captain on the couch as you take off bokuto's shoes. when you came back from putting the footwear on the shoe rack, you offered akaashi water.

“hey, what do you mean earlier?” you asked him, worried that bokuto might be having a problem.

“normally, he would be so energetic and loud, but today he just drank and drank. i immediately noticed it, that's why i didn't drink too much because i'm sure he'll be too drunk later on.” akaashi explained and chugged on the water you gave him.

you looked at bokuto and you noticed how troubled his expression is, even though he's sleeping.

“did he tell you anything?” you queried the editor who’s looking at bokuto.

“sadly, he passed out before i could ask him anything.” he sighed and fixed his glasses.

after you talked a bit to akaashi, he bid farewell to you, since he has work tomorrow. you sent him off while thanking him for looking out for the drunk guy on your couch.

you went to the bathroom after to get a bowl and towel to clean up bokuto. you crouched beside the couch and slowly took his arm.

you successfully wiped it, so went to the other arm. as you reached for it, you suddenly froze when he groaned.

“hm? who you?” he questioned looking at you suspiciously.

here it is again. every time bokuto is drunk, he always fails to recognize anyone. anyone. 

“ah. i was with akaashi. you're akaashi, right?” he wanted to confirm, but you just smiled at him and offered him water, but he refused.

he turned his body to the side, he's facing the backrest of the couch and his arm dangled on the edge of it.

“akaashi…” he called even though akaashi's not there.

you just decided to go along with it, hoping you'd catch something funny that you can tell him tomorrow once he comes to his senses.

“yes?” you answered, putting a low tone to your voice.

“i want to ask you something.” he said, not moving from his current position.

“what is it?”

“i don't know what to do.” 

“about what? tell me.” you listened to him intently.

is he going to talk about what's bothering him?

“actually, i love (y/n)...” you replied with a hum.  “but…” he refutes.

but?

he changed his position again and now he's facing the ceiling with his arms covering his eyes. this is the first time you saw him this serious while drunk.

“i love her, but i don't love her.” he whispered and bit his lips.

“what?” you were unsure whether you heard it right or not.

i must’ve misheard it, but i’m pretty sure i didn’t. what is he talking about?

“what do you mean?” you let go of the towel accidentally making it land on the bowl, splashing water on its surroundings.

“what i mean is that i'm not feeling the same way as before. i love (y/n), but it's not the same love i'm feeling from before.” he said, his lips were quivering and his voice was a bit shaky.

“i'm trying, akaashi. i'm trying to bring back the love. i’m doing the things i did when we were still new to the relationship. i'm hoping the love would come back, but…” a tear fell on the side of his eyes, down to his ears. 

“what if it doesn't come back?” his voice was getting quieter and quieter.

“what if my love for her fades away?” he sobs.

you just stood there looking at him talking. a lot of information came in at once, it seems like your mind can't keep up.

he doesn't feel the same anymore? so the reason he's been extra sweet lately is that he wanted to revive his feelings for me? 

you let out a laugh and comb your hair with your fingers.

“what are you laughing for, akaashi?” he fixed his position, sat on his butt and looked up at you, even though his eyes were still blurry.

“nothing. it's just, (y/n) thought nothing of it when you were extremely sweet and clingy, though she loves it, now she feels like shit knowing what was the reason.” you tried to finish what you were saying, while also trying to keep the tears from falling.

he confusedly looked at you. you cleared your throat and clenched your hand.

“why don't you just tell her the truth? that you've already fallen out of love?” he lowered his head and placed both of his hands on the sides of his head.

“but, i promised her forever.”

he said, vocals almost inaudible, because of how shaky it is. anyone who can see him right now, can tell that what he's showing right now is what he really feels deep inside him.

“i promised that to her, and i still don't want her to be sad.” he clasped both of his hands.

“but you shouldn't lead me on that you're still mine because that hurts much more thinking all your i love you's are genuine, but it isn't. it’s not love, if you’re faking it.” 

you sighed heavily, you felt as if your legs lost all their power, you suddenly wanted to sit down. you did, but on the floor right in front of your boyfriend.

you looked at him while cries and worried about what to do with himself for minutes and minutes.

it seems like he sobered up. 

you smiled weakly and reached for his cheeks. you noticed how he melted into it, now you know that he's really back to his senses.

“babe…?” he muttered and looked at you. 

you saw how his eyes showed terror now that he'd realized that the one he's talking to all the time was you and not akaashi.

“b-babe, i—” he held your hand that was on his face, but you pulled it out of his grip.

you nodded slowly, smiling at him.

“shh. it's okay. we can talk about it tomorrow. you should take a rest for now.” you said and walked towards your guy's room, refusing to let even a drop of tear fall in front of him.

bokuto watched as you took each step. what he's feeling right now doesn't seem right. 

it is as if you're walking away from him for good, but he feels like he should run after you. 

but, shouldn't he feel that way if he had already fallen out of love, right?

thank you so much for reading! reblogs would much appreciated!

also, you can visit my ko-fi acc, if you'd like to tip me and help this broke college student (>//3//<)

[drakoneve]

Missing Memories Pt. 1

request: Hey!  I saw that your requests are open so I was wondering if I could get a Daemon x fem!reader where they are happily married and one day reader has an accident and is unconscious for weeks and he is desperate and when she finally wakes up ( to make his despair worse) she has lost her memory (maybe she doesn't remember anyone or to be more distressing maybe she just doesn't remember him, I'll leave it up to you) Seeing her condition, Viserys and Rhaenyra + try to help by telling things about her and also about their relationship before the accident and how happy they were and completely devoted to each other, but it doesn't do much good.  Seeing such a situation Daemon decides and is determined to win her back, at first she is defensive and even a little afraid of him (which makes him very sad, since of all of them she was the only one who was never afraid of him, nor even before they get together) the months go by and he has some advances +(like she starts to feel more comfortable around him and that sort of thing) one night she is talking to Rhaenyra when she gets a really bad pain in her head and flashes of memories begin to flood her mind, when rhae says she is going to call the maester, she runs off to Daemon's room (which was the room they shared before the accident) she enters and runs towards him and him. kisses passionately, when they break up she says she remembered everything. With lots of angst, fluffy, a little nsfw at the end (if you feel comfortable) and happy ending, please?  (If you could also develop Reader's relationship with Viserys and Rhaenyra while she is out of memory I would be extremely grateful. Sorry for the amount of detail, feel free to ignore and sorry for my English)

pairing: daemon targaryen x y/n velaryon

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst, mentions of head injury, permanent scarring, blood and memory loss, oh and targcest but this is hotd so...

a/n: i’ve decided to split this into two parts so it doesn’t feel rushed! i’m not a dr and have no idea how head injuries/memory loss actually works. also the boar incident didn’t happen on Aegon’s nameday :)

The young prince Aemond’s third name day hunt in the Kingswood was meant to be a celebratory occasion. You’d arrived behind the immediate royal family, emerging from the carriage hand in hand with your love, the Rogue Prince Daemon. At first everything had gone well after the two of you arrived shortly after your younger brother Laenor and his cousin-wife Rhaenyra. 

It had been far too long since you had celebrated such an occasion with your family as you’d spent the last few years living in Pentos with your husband. Daemon enjoyed Pentos, but you could tell he missed the west. He missed the Keep and the city he had known his entire life, and so you had managed to convince him to come back to King’s Landing, if only for a while.

Things took a turn when trouble came the next day in the form of an argument  between Viserys and Rhaenyra over Gods knows what that ended in the king yelling in his daughter’s face in front of the majority of the royal hunt. Rhaenyra stormed out of the tent, and you rose from your seat to follow her but Daemon grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Must you chase after her?” Daemon asked, frown forming on his face. “Rhaenyra is quite capable of taking care of herself.”

You clicked your tongue at him and pulled your arm free of his grasp. “You know I must, Daemon. She is like a sister to me and you know that.”

It was true, the two of you practically grew up alongside each other as sisters would as the two of you were the only girls your age around (minus Alicent, of course). In the years before either of your marriages you would often join Rhaenyra and Syrax in the skies upon your own green scaled dragon Rixende. 

You were just fast enough to catch up to Rhaenyra and her hose upon one of your own, alongside Ser Criston. The three of you dismounted your horses for the day as the sun had begun to set and you were too far away to make it back to the campgrounds before dark. 

Rhaenyra sat in front of the barely light makeshift fire pit while you scavenged around for more fire fuel. The last thing you remembered before waking up in royal chambers was the snorting of a wild boar. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

Daemon knew something was wrong when he could not find the strength to will himself to sleep. His stomach felt like it had twisted itself into a tight intricate knot and in the back of his head he knew he was right in not wanting you to follow after Rhaenyra. Although Daemon loved his niece and held her very dear, you meant more to him than anyone else in the world.

He was awake when Rhaenyra and Criston rode back into camp, the princess screaming for the best healers present. Daemon nearly tore down the front of the tent with the force of his rage as he ripped through the camp, searching for you. He met a devastating sight.

Rhaenyra cradled your head to her chest as she held a soaked red cloth to your head, your own silver hair stained red with blood. The princess herself was stained in a fair amount of blood which would have been just as concerning but you were the one unconscious on the ground with a grievous wound to the side of your head.

Despite every instinct in his body to be by your side and let no one near you as to protect you from further harm, Daemon merely watched with a cold glare as the healers pushed Rhaenyra away and began to stitch at the open wound on the left side of your head just above your ear. 

Daemon instead turned his fury to Ser Criston, who seemed to be the only one of the three of you completely free of blood. The sight of him, clean in the face of the love of his life and his niece blood soaked while a pathetic excuse for a knight of the Kingsguard stood idly by in spotless armor, woke the dragon within the Rogue Prince.

Criston hit the ground so hard it knocked the air out of him. Before he had the chance to stand, or even catch his breath, Daemon kneeled over him to deliver several hard blows to the face of the knight. 

Criston’s nose cracks under the force of Daemon’s blows, blood spurting down his face and chest.

Daemon gripped the neck of Criston’s armor and raised his now bloodied face to meet the prince’s. “What the Seven hells happened out there?” he growled out. “and if you should tell me anything but the truth I’ll have your head on a spike!”

“A boar,” Criston croaked out before spitting blood out onto the side of his face and to the ground. “A wild boar attacked the princesses. Princess Rhaenyra was brave enough to face it after it attacked Princess Y/n.”

“How worthless you’ve proven to be,” Daemon spat in return. “Leaving the princesses to fend for themselves. If my wife dies, I’ll feed you to Caraxes myself. I might do it anyway!”

All the commotion woke the entire camp and by now a large circle had formed around the royal family as King Viserys ran towards his brother. The king pulled on his brother’s shoulder and off of Criston.

“Daemon enough!” Viserys urged. “There’s been enough bloodshed for one night, brother. You must focus your energy on your wife.”

The comment lit a fire in Daemon’s chest and he shoved his brother’s hand away. “Do not speak to me of the duties of a proper husband.”

He brushed passed the king to join the healers at your side. The stitching was finished now, and by the looks of it Daemon knew it would leave a welted scar just above your left ear. With the most care he had and as gentle as he could, Daemon lifted you from the ground where you laid and brought you back to the tent you two shared. 

The healers followed him inside to give Daemon instructions of how to clean the wound throughout the night before excusing themselves, ushering the prince to call for them if need be. 

Daemon leaves your side briefly only to finally remove his armor. He reattached Dark Sister to his hip before pulling a chair to your bedside and taking your hand in his. He thought of the night he saw you for the first time since before leaving for the war in the Stepstones.

It was Rhaenyra and Laenor’s wedding, and you arrived with the rest of your Velaryon kin to the throne room. Daemon hadn’t seen you since before the war in the Stepstones when you were still a young girl and he was surprised to see the beautiful woman you’d grown into. 

The eldest of Corlys and Rhaenys’ children, you wore a sea green satin dress to represent your house. Daemon couldn’t help but admire the way it flowed around you as you twirled around the dancefloor with your sister Laena. 

He ignored the stares of others, namely Corlys and Rhaenys, as he split the dancefloor in half on his way to you. He graciously asked for a dance, and had expected you to reject him. No doubt Rhaenys had filled your head with every filthy thing the realm had to say about him. And if not her, surely one of your handmaid's had. 

You surprised him, though, when you smiled up at him, and accepted his invitation. Daemon took control, wasting no time in taking your hand into his own while wrapping his other arm around your waist to lead you.

When the music slowed down you’d began to pull away from him, but Daemon only tightened his grip on your hand and his other arm around your waist to pull you closer into him.

“Must you leave me so soon?” he’s asked you softly. “The nights only just begun.”

Daemon charmed you into one more dance, which he dragged out into dancing the rest of the night until the unfortunate demise of Ser Joffrey due to Ser Criston’s outrage. After that night Daemon whisked you away to Pentos, where the two of you were wed under the traditions of Old Valyria. 

He took you flying across Pentos upon Caraxes, showing you wonders of the world you’d never even dreamed of seeing. Daemon remembers your excitement fondly as he’d spent the majority of the flight memorizing the smile on your face and shine in your eyes.

Daemon rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand almost in an attempt to wake you. He new it wouldn’t happen this night, you’d been given too much milk of the poppy for that, but it didn’t stop him from trying. 

He spent that first sleepless night by your side and remained there while the maesters prepared you for the ride back to the Red Keep for proper medical treatment. 

Daemon stood outside the carriage with a heavy watchful eye as the maesters secured the makeshift cot to the carriage. Out of his periphrial Daemon can see Rhaenyra approaching, and while he normally dotes on his sweet niece, in this moment his stomach turns at the sight of her.

It should have been her. He thinks to himself. Not my precious wife.

Rhaenyra is respectful in her approach as to not set off her reckless uncle. Her lilac eyes rake over your injured form, guilt eating away at her.

“Any word from the maesters, uncle?” Rhaenyra asks softly. 

The prince takes in a breath, soothing himself the way he know you would. He knows if the roles had truly been reversed then nothing would stop you from aiding the princess in any way. In his heart he knows he shouldn’t blame Rhaenyra, she’s the one who saved your life after all, but he can’t stop himself. 

You should be awake, by his side. You should be enjoying the young prince’s nameday celebrations as you always did. 

“They do not know why she hasn’t woken,” he explains solemnly. “I have requested the best maesters from the Citadel this morn.”

Rhaenyra nods, before looking to her feet as she twirls her golden rings. When she looks up again, Daemon turns to meet her gaze before he can stop himself and he can’t overlook the tears in the princess’s eyes.

“Iksan sīr vaoreznuni, kepūs (I am so sorry, uncle),” Rhaenyra mutters tearfully. “I should have protected her. I should have-”

“No,” Daemon interrupts her, knowing it’s what you would do. “You are lucky you escaped unscathed, princess. She will heal. She will come back to us, this I know.”

One of the maesters then steps off the carriage and approaches the pair. “Pardon me, my prince, but the carriage is ready. It is best for the princess that we do not delay our travels any further.”

“Of course,” Daemon nods. He gives Rhaenyra a hopefully reassuring hand on her shoulder in a goodbye before joining your side once more.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

Despite the arrival and treatment of two maesters from the Citadel, and one healer Daemon flew in from Pentos personally, you had not woken.

After the wound on the side of your head began to heal and the maester took out the stitching, worry began to truly settle into Daemon’s core. The maesters and healer both had done what they claimed they could yet could not give the prince an answer for why you had not woken.

Day after day for three weeks Daemon sat by your bedside waiting for you to open your eyes and come back to him. The two of you hadn’t been apart for more than a few days in the entirety of your marriage, and these weeks without you have been torture.

Today had been no different, it seems. Daemon thinks to himself as he enters your shared chambers, where you still lie upon the bed. One of maester Orwyle’s trainees is by your side but rose upon the prince’s arrival. 

The man bows respectively. “My Prince, I’m afraid there’s been-”

You interrupt the maester with a low groan. “M-my head hurts,” you wrasp, eyes still closed.

“Go, fetch the maesters, the healers, someone!” Daemon bellows his demands to the young healer, who wastes no time in scurrying from the room.

Daemon rushes to your bedside where a pitcher and empty cup sit on the bedside table next to you. He pours you a drink and carefully holds it to your lips.

“Here,” he whispers gently. “drink this, darling. You will feel better.”

You do as he says, not consciously thinking of it, you only wished for relief from your terribly dry, scratchy throat. 

Once you’ve finished, Daemon pours another in case but leaves it on the table. He sits, and claps one of your hands with both of his own.

“I was so afraid,” he confesses softly. He doesn’t look at you, instead he focuses his gaze on your bundle of hands. “So afraid you would not wake. I thought you were gone and there was nothing I could do.”

WIth your free hand you grasp the thick fur covering your legs and you pull it up to your chest, and wriggle your other hand free from Daemon.

“D-do I know you, ser?” you ask, and Daemon can see the confusion laced with fear in your eyes.

He’s always been able to read you and you’ve told him before it’s one of the things that attracted you to him. Not once, since that night he asked for your hand in a dance, had you ever looked at him and been afraid. 

Not when he arrived on Driftmark upon Caraxes years before you wed, soaked in blood from winning the war in the Stepstones. That night you sat with him, alongside your father Corlys and brother Laenor, and begged for every detail of battle. As they relayed their stories of war to you your eyes gleamed, and you enamored Daemon from that moment on.

Daemon shot up from his seat as a sickening feeling took over him. He swayed on his feet, or was he really? He grips the hilt of Dark Sister in an attempt to steady himself. 

Wordlessly he turns and charges out the chamber doors, letting them slam shut behind him.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

Once word had spread through the Red Keep that you’d finally woken you’d been swarmed by maesters and Pentosi healers bombarding you with questions. 

How were you feeling?

What could you remember?

Why was Prince Daemon seen storming away?

You simply asked who Prince Daemon was, which stopped the bustle of your busy chambers.

“Have I said something?” you asked, blissfully unaware. 

Laenor then bursts through your chamber doors, winded and eyes wide. His arrival sparks life back into the maesters and servants continue cleaning like nothing happened.

“Sister!” he gasps, rushing to your side. He wastes no time, carefully, wrapping you up in his arms from your spot on the bed. “I am so relieved to see you. How are you feeling? And where is Daemon?”

You groan, pulling away from your younger brother. “Why does everyone keep asking me about Daemon? I do not even know a Daemon! Have I missed something, brother?”

Laenor sits back slightly, lips parting. “Y-you do not remember? Y/n, Prince Daemon is your husband. You’ve been happily married for years.”

The two of you sit in silence as you do your best to file through your memories. 

“I think I remember seeing him at court once, but I do not remember marrying him. How can I be married and not know it?” You push away from Laenor and stand from the bed. Without risking further bodily harm but as quickly as you could you slip on some simple shoes and pull a robe over your nightclothes.

Laenor follows you as you move about the room. “Where are you going? You’ve only just woken, you must rest!”

“No,” you insist, pulling away from his attempt to grab your arm to stop you. “I have a husband, whom I cannot remember. I have much more important matters than lying in bed all day.”

Many people watched you shamelessly as you made your way through the Red Keep looking for your cousin and close friend, Rhaenyra. If there was someone here who could help you make sense of things it would be her. 

Eventually you find the princess sat under the weirwood tree in the Godswood, reading with a book in her lap.

“Princess,” you call as you approach. “Might I interrupt your studies for a moment?”

Rhaenyra’s head whips up, mouth slightly open in shock. She tosses her book aside carelessly and rushes to wrap her arms around you. The younger girl hits you with such force the two of you nearly tumble to the ground.

“I was so worried,” Rhaenyra whispers into your curly hair. “All I could think of these past weeks was your recovery, it’s all I have prayed for.”

“Yes, such is the sentiment I have been hearing. But I am afraid there’s trouble, cousin.”

Rhaenyra pulls away from the hug but keeps her hands on your forearms. “What is it?”

“I do not remember Daemon,” you confess softly. “Laenor informed me I have been married to Daemon for years, but I cannot remember any of it and it worries me.”

The princess’s violet eyes widen, “Nothing? Not even your time in Pentos?”

You shake your head mournfully and Rhaenyra’s frown only deepens. She pulls you to sit with her under the weirwood. 

“Come, we must find a way to bring your memories back.”

[julilovesyou444]

hey baee that last fic u did was so good i literally loved it tysm it was so cute!! i have another request - could you write smth where the reader is the 5th member of the band and tom has lit been in love w her since they were kids, and it’s only when they’re like 16/17 that he finally accepts it and confesses to the reader?? like it’s so unlike him to be all soppy and stuff so he didn’t wanna accept his feelings and he’s like super nervous bc he doesn’t wanna like ruin the friendship or anything but ofc the reader likes him back 😋😋 THAT WAS SO LONG LMAO and super specific again but anyways tysm 💗💗💗

i know you ~ tom kaulitz

ty for requesting bb! I’m so happy you liked the last one!! hopefully this one is okay too! enjoy💗💗 if anyone wants, feel free to request

warnings: swearing, yelling, drinking, partying, kissing, thats it i think ??

a/n~ thank you for 100 followers!! I sound stupid saying that but seriously the support means so much to me, gustav req coming soon!! stay tuned and enjoy this little piece for now💟 also thank you for all the comments and messages, I LOVE YOU GUYS🫶

(okay but angry love confessions >>>)

sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes !!

~

“are we doing anything tonight?”, i asked, laying down on the tour bus’ couch. My legs were draped across bills, he had insisted. We had been on the schrei tour for about a month now. the change from regular life to tour life was insane. we were on the schrei tour, about a couple months or so in. We had a little trouble adjusting at first, we were all getting into a lot of arguments, but now we were fine. Bill and Tom still get into arguments a lot, though. Tom has been acting weirder than usual, and i kinda felt like most of this behavior was aimed at me. It felt like he was distant, and I couldn’t figure out why. I have had a crush on Tom for just about as long as I can remember, but I always pushed away those feelings because I loved our friendship too much, and I didn’t want to confess to him and for there to be a rift in between us. I knew for a fact he didn’t like me back. He had so many absolutely gorgeous fan girls who liked him, so there was no way he liked me. He was also kind of a player. That hurt a little at first, but just like the whole situation, I learned to live with it.

“Uhh, i dont think so. We could do something, though. I wouldn’t mind.”, Bill replied, typing something on his phone. The door to the bus opened, and Tom walked in. The smell of cigarettes followed him. We were waiting on Georg and Gustav to finish up the grocery shopping. I thought he was going to go sit down on his bed, but I was wrong. He was staring down at me.

“What?”, i asked.

“Sit up. I wanna sit on the couch too.”, he said flatly. I groaned and sat up for a second, my legs still over Bills. I looked back and saw that Tom was sat behind me, both of his arms resting on the top of the couch. I fell back onto his lap, my head resting on top of his legs. I felt him tense up under me. He raised his eyebrows at me in a judgy way and I rolled my eyes.

“Who said I’m allowing you to do that?”, he said in a bratty tone.

“Deal with it.”

“I guess I will because it doesn’t really seem like I have a choice.”, he huffed.

“Okay, I’m tired of your guys’ bickering, I’m going to go check on Gustav and Georg and see what is taking them so long. Hans is in the store too, I guess he got tired of sitting and driving all day. I’ll be back soon.”, Bill said, lifting my legs up and letting himself get up. Before either Tom or I could protest, he left.

The silence engulfed us. It felt awkward, and I hated it. I had known Tom since we were seven. He had always been a bit of an asshole, but he was nice too. Lately I had just been getting asshole Tom. He seemed somewhat normal with everyone else, except for me. I started to overthink. Did he find out I liked him? Was he uncomfortable around me now? Did he think I was weird?

“sorry for laying on you, I’ll get up.”, i quickly said as I began to sit up. Tom grabbed my shoulder and pushed me back down into his lap.

“No. You can stay. If you want.”, he said flatly.

“Oh… okay, yea.”

I looked up at him as he gazed back down at me. I couldn’t figure out what was going on with him. What had changed between us? When he was a kid, he would treat me just like he treated everyone else in the band.

“Is everything okay?”, i asked softly.

“What do you mean?”

I could tell he knew exactly what I meant.

“Oh, I don’t know, it’s stupid, nevermind.”, I looked away.

“No, tell me.”, he used his finger to direct my chin back toward him. His eyes were slightly narrowed.

“I don’t know, Tom, you just seem different, that’s all. I feel like you haven’t been yourself lately, but I’m probably just dumb and it’s all in my head.”

He didn’t say anything.

“I’m sorry.”, i immediately apologized in fear of making him angry.

“Why? You have no reason to be.”

Everything he did confused me.

“Okay, well, I just feel like you’ve been a little distant.”

“I haven’t been.”, he said. He sounded a little bit annoyed.

“Okay, sorry.”

“Will you stop saying sorry?”, he lashed out.

I froze. He usually never yelled at me. He knew I hated when people yelled at me. No matter what the situation was, if someone yelled at me, I would cry. He knew that. I sat up and he tried to get me to stay. I shrugged him off and stood up.

“Um, I think I’m gonna go take a nap in my bunk, I’m pretty tired.”, I mumbled.

“Just wait-“

“Leave it, Tom.”, i said quietly before walking away and over to my bunk. I heard Tom curse underneath his breath. I laid down, and about a minute after doing so, I heard everyone load back onto the bus.

“Okay, we have about two hours left in our drive to Dresden and then you guys can get checked into your hotel and do whatever you want for the rest of the day.”, Hans, our driver, announced. Everyone agreed.

“Where’s did she go?”, i heard Bill ask. He sounded confused.

“Her bed, she’s taking a nap.”, Tom replied.

“What did you do now?”, Bill teased.

“Fuck off.”, Tom said back.

“Calm down.”, Georg said.

“Can we just go?”, Tom yelled up to the front of the bus at Hans.

I felt the bus start to move. I got under the covers. I was still very in love with Tom, and the way he was acting towards me hurt me so much. I didn’t know what I did wrong. I missed the way things were. I silently cried for a minute, I felt so stupid. He shouldn’t have this kind of effect on me. I hated crying. I felt like a baby. I fell asleep within a few minutes, trying to forget about what was happening.

~

I felt the bus come to a sharp stop. I blinked my eyes open. I could hear Tom and Bill arguing. I couldn’t see them because I was in the back of the bus, but whatever they were talking about, sounded serious. I stood up and walked over to the cracked door. They couldn’t see me, and I could only see a sliver of them.

Bill was standing up, lecturing Tom about something.

“If you like her, why don’t you just tell her??? I don’t get it.”

“I don’t fucking like her, just fuck off.”, Tom spat back at him.

“Yes you do! It’s obvious! You have since, forever! We can all see that you do. We also all see you treat her like she’s nothing, don’t you think that hurts her?”

“It is kind of obvious.”, Gustav trailed off. They were probably talking about one of the many girls Tom was leading on. He always did this. It didn’t surprise me.

“Shut up, Gustav. And so what if I do like her? How is that any of your business? I’m not going to jeopardize the band or anything else for that matter for some silly crush.”

“It’s not a silly crush, Tom. You’re in love with her.”, Bill said. It was silent.

My stomach dropped. So that’s why he’s been acting all weird. He’s in love with another girl. I couldn’t listen anymore. I stepped out the door and stretched, acting like I heard nothing.

Everyone’s eyes darted to me.

“Good morning, everyone! We are here?”, i said as cheerfully as possible. I wanted to play it off like I was completely fine and like the boy I’ve been in love with since I was seven wasnt in love with some other girl I didn’t even know.

“You just woke up?”, Georg asked. Everyone looked a little worried.

“Yea! Your guys’ fucking yelling woke me up so I figured you were probably arguing over the set list, of course you were dicks are deciding without me so I wanted to come and help choose.”, I laughed. Acting skills, on point. The band looked relieved.

“Well, if that’s over then let’s go get settled into the hotel.”. I suggested. Everyone nodded.

Hans went into the hotel lobby and got us checked in while we unpacked all of our stuff onto caddys. He came back, handed us our keys and told us our floor and room numbers. Georg and Gustav shared a room, as well as Bill and Tom. I had a room to myself, it had always been that way.

We took our stuff inside and went up the elevators into our hotel rooms. I unpacked my stuff pretty quickly before going over to Bill’s room to try and make plans for tonight.

I knocked on their door. Tom cracked it open and squinted his eyes at me before opening it all the way. I pushed past him but he grabbed me and pulled me back.

I furrowed my brows at him and tried to continue walking, but he wouldn’t let me.

“Can you not be so stubborn and just hear me out?”, he said. I stopped trying to get out of his grasp and crossed my arms over my body. I widened my eyes and shook my head a little, giving him a cue to start talking.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you earlier. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s with me lately, but you’re right, i havent really been myself.”

I sighed. I didn’t want him to feel bad, especially for loving another girl. It was rare that Tom genuinely liked someone, and I didn’t want to get in the way of that.

“I know why, Tom. Its okay, I understand now. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable or something. I wont get so close to you anymore.”

He looked so confused.

“Wait what? What do you mean ‘uncomfortable’? And I never said I didn’t want you close to me? What are you talking about?”

“Tom, I know you. You’re like my bestfriend, its okay. You don’t have to keep secrets from me. And im not gonna be upset if you don’t want me to be as touchy and stuff with you. I wouldn’t want to do anything to affect your relationship or whatever you are deciding to call it.”

“What are you talking about?”, he asked. He was acting so shocked. Then Bill walked out of the bathroom. Since he clearly wasn’t comfortable with telling me about the girl he was in love with, I wasn’t going to push, so I changed the subject.

“Bill!”

“Oh, hi!”, he smiled, noticing me.

“I was thinking, what if we went to a club tonight?”

“OH MY GOSH, YES!!! please! I need to party, I’ve been so drained from always doing shows, that would be just what I need. you’d come too, right, Tom?”, Bill asked.

“Yea, I guess.”, Tom nonchalantly replied. He acted as if he was too good for that stuff.

“Go tell Georg and Gustav.”, Bill instructed.

“Why do I have to? Why can’t you?”, Tom complained.

“Because you know I take the longest to get ready! It’s getting late already so I’d like to leave sooner than later.”

“Ugh, fine.”, Tom said, rolling his eyes before leaving the room.

“What’s his deal?”, i asked.

Bill hesistated.

“Uhh, i dont know, he’s been weird. Tom will get over it soon though, don’t worry.”

“Oh, okay… it doesn’t have anything to do with me, right?”, i asked, trying to slyly investigate.

I saw Bill physically get taken aback.

“Uhhhhh no! No, I don’t think so. Why do you ask?”

“Uh i just feel like he’s been acting weird towards me I guess. We used to like jokingly flirt and be pretty close but we don’t ever really do that anymore and it feels kind of weird, but I think I know why.”

“Oh… and why is that?”

“He’s in love with somebody. I don’t know who, but it’s probably one of the girls he’s slept with. I think Tom just feels weird with me being how I used to be like with him because he is in love with her, y’know what I mean?”

“Wait-wait, where did you get this from?”, Bills mouth was agape.

“Don’t be mad but I heard you guys arguing on the bus. I heard only part of it. I don’t know why I didn’t say anything, but obviously the rest of the guys know and Tom is refusing to tell me too. He doesn’t know I already know, but I don’t really understand what is stopping him from telling me.”

“Oh… I see.”, Bill said, contemplating his next words.

“I think he will tell you when he’s ready, I think he just wants you to approve of him and he thinks highly of you. I also think you make him a little nervous.”, he finally added.

“Me? Make Tom nervous? Funny, but no way.”, I laughed. Bill made a face and shrugged.

“Okay, I’m gonna go get ready, I’ll see you in like 45.”, I said, turning for the door.

“Wait!”

“Hm?”

“I have a question, answer honestly, please.”

“What is it Bill?”

“Do you have feelings for Tom?”

I could feel myself immediately get flustered and my cheeks start to get red. Fuck fuck fuck.

“What?”, i laughed awkwardly.

“Please, I’m your bestfriend, you can tell me if you do.”

“Why do you even think that? Tom is my best friend just like you are.”

“You aren’t denying it.”

“Bill, please.”

“Do you?”, he asked again.

I gave him pleading eyes, asking him to leave it alone.

“Bill…”

“You can tell me anything. I wouldn’t judge you at all.”, he placed his hands on my shoulders.

I sighed again. Even if I said I didn’t, I knew Bill wouldn’t believe me.

“Maybe?”, i scrunched my face up a bit.

Bill smiled.

“Why are you so happy?”, i asked, unclear on whatever was going on in his head.

“No reason…”

“Please, Bill. Don’t say anything to Tom. I don’t want to ruin our friendship, he means too much to me. And I don’t want to get in the way of his relationship with this girl.”

Bill smiled at me again. He shook his head.

“I promise I won’t. And if I were you, I wouldn’t worry about another girl.”

“I thought he loves her though?”

“Just dont worry about it, go get ready!! And look hot! Not that you don’t already, but go get more hot!”, he said pushing me to the door, a smile permanently engraved on his face.

“Bill- wait Bill-“I stuttered as he pushed me out the door.

“Hm?”

“Please, I’m serious. Don’t say anything.”

“I won’t. Boyscouts honor.”, he held two fingers in the air before slamming the door in my face. I was greeted by Tom leaning against the wall. I flinched, I hadn’t seen him because he was standing behind the open door. His arms were crossed over his chest.

“Jesus, fuck! You scared me.”, i yelled.

“Don’t say anything about what? What were you guys talking about?”

“Nothing.”

“I hate when you keep secrets from me.”

“You’re one to talk.”, i replied, defensively.

“What? Was it about me? Are you embarrassed or something?”, he took a step closer to me, his face now adorned with a smug grin. I scoffed.

“Get over yourself, Tom. The world doesn’t revolve around you.”

“Maybe not, but sometimes I begin to think you do.”, he teased.

I rolled my eyes and turned around to go to my hotel.

“Be ready soon!”, he called after me as i slammed the door.

~

Bill banged on my door, for the third time in the last five minutes.

“HURRY UPPPPP”, he groaned. I finished zipping up my shoe before opening the door. Bill looked annoyed but as soon as he saw me, his face lit up.

“Oh. My. God.”, he said, looking me up and down.

“You like?”, i asked, already knowing the answer. I was wearing a denim mini skirt that was way too short, a black lacy top that had long belle sleeves with a pretty cleavagey v-neck. It was cropped perfectly to display my belly button ring. I of course had a ton of jewellry on too, with a bit of makeup as well. I wore platform black boots that went up part of my calf. They were leather and I had been gifted them, but I rarely got the chance to wear them.

“Obviously!”, bill exclaimed.

I walked out to see the rest of the band waiting in the hallway. They all looked a little shocked when they saw my outfit. I usually didn’t dress-up too much, mainly because I didn’t have the confidence to do so. I decided to just let go and have fun tonight.

I walked past them and they just stood there. I clicked the button for the elevator and looked back at them down the hallway.

“Are you guys coming or…?”

They scurried down the hallway and got into the lift with me. We decided to go to a club that was only two blocks away. It was a pretty popular club, and we usually got into most clubs that we tried to because of our status in Germany. The bouncer recognized us and let us skip the line. Perks of being semi-famous I guess.

The music was so loud I could barely hear my own thoughts. Bill grabbed my hand to pull me away and get drinks. I turned away and grabbed Tom’s hand, dragging him along with us. At first he just let me hold his hand, but then he held it back, letting Bill and I lead him through the crowd of drunk people.

Bill ordered us all shots. Tom watched as i downed mine, and drank his not long after. Bill snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me away to the dance floor. We danced for a little before some random girl took it upon herself to steal him away. I couldn’t really blame her though. I danced by myself for a little but got bored and decided I wanted another drink. I made my way over to the bar and ordered a drink I saw another girl have. I began to drink it slowly, looking around. I made eye contact with a guy. He was by himself, looking me up and down. He smiled and i smiled back. He had to be at least 22. He approached me and asked if he could buy me a drink, despite me not even being close to the one i just got myself. I told him that if he wanted to, he had to dance with me first. He agreed, and we went over to crowd of dancing bodies.

At first, it started pretty innocent. Just giggling, drinking, and dancing. He started to get touchy, putting his hands on my waist. He had them slowly go from my waist, downwards. I would pull away whenever he got to close to the one thing he wanted, but no matter how many times I pulled away, he would always try to do it again. I looked over and was met with Tom’s eyes. They were staring at me, a sort of gross look on his face. Was he really that disgusted by me?

“can I get you that drink now?”, he winked. I internally cringed but said yes. Free drinks? Fine by me. He ordered me something, but nothing for himself. As soon as the drink was in my hand, he was urging and pressuring me to drink if. I did. Another drink, same deal. I downed the drink, wanting him to just leave me alone about it. Even though I told him not to, he ordered another drink. I tried to push it away, but he kept pushing it towards me. Finally, he put the drink down. I tried to back up, but he pulled me into a sloppy kiss that I wanted no part of. I tried to push him off but he was too strong, or maybe I was just to tipsy.

“get off of me.”

“please, stop”

but he wouldn’t.

“I don’t want this-“, i started, yet another plea for him to stop. a pair of hands yanked me back. before i could even see who it was, I saw Tom step in front of me and push that guy into the bar counter.

“She told you to get off her you fucking pervert. Is getting girls drunk enough so they hook up with you your only hobby. Pathetic.”, he spat. The guy looked like he wanted to say something back, or fight Tom, but he just cursed under his breath and stumbled away. I felt embarrassed. I shouldn’t have let myself get in that situation.

“Thank you.”, i mumbled to Tom. He shook his head.

“Just stop. You’re really fucking stupid sometimes y’know? Putting yourself in dumb situations like that.”, he rolled his eyes as he walked away. I wasn’t going to let him be that rude and just walk away, so I followed him. I watched as he weaved through people. I followed hom, but not to closely. I saw him open a door and go in before practically slamming it. It was too loud for anyone to even notice. I waited a minute before going into the door as well. There were a few flight of stairs. I climbed up them. I had finally made it to the top. I opened the door. The roof.

The cold air hit my face as I stepped out, the smell of cigarette smoke filling my senses. I saw Tom, standing towards the edge of the building, smoking as he looked out at the city. I began to walk over to him. The gravel crunched underneath my boots, making him turn around.

“What the fuck is your problem to me? You’ve been such a dick and I haven’t even done anything. I just want for things to be normal.”, i said, angered.

“They aren’t normal.”, he said, taking a puff of his cig.

“And how is that in any way my fault? I haven’t done anything to you, yet you are treating me like shit. You loving some girl doesn’t mean you can act like that, it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“It has EVERYTHING to do with you!”, he shouted.

“What the fuck did I do?! I don’t understand what I did to make you despise me so much! Why do you hate me so much?!”, I yelled back.

“I don’t hate you, I’m in love with you, you fucking idiot!”, he yelled. His eyes widened at his own words.

I was so confused. It didn’t feel real. I could barely comprehend what he had just said.

“What?”, was all I could manage to say. He looked so nervous, his hands shaking.

“I’m fucking in love with you, okay?? I have been ever since I’ve known you. I’ve tried to push it away, I’ve always denied it, but i cant anymore. I’ve tried everything and I can’t! I’ve slept with countless girls but the only thing I’ve ever been able to think about is you. You’re always on my mind and no matter what I do, I can’t seem to get you out of my head. I’ve been being mean to try and distance you from me and make myself stop loving you but it’s fucking torture and it’s stupid and it hasn’t even worked in the slightest. Bill told me you heard us on the bus, it wasn’t some girl, we were talking about you. Its you, and it always has been. I feel sick when I see you with other guys, I get so jealous I can barely handle it. All I’ve ever wanted is you, and not having you is killing me. I’m sick and tired of pretending like I don’t love you because I do! Hate is the last thing on this earth that I feel about you. I love you so fucking much, and I’m sorry for treating you the way I have been.”, he yelled.

I could hardly believe anything I was hearing. Tom Kaulitz? In love with me? This is a prank, right? It felt like a dream.

“Are you serious?”, i asked.

“Really? After that long ass rant or about loving you, you don’t believe me?”, he dryly laughed.

“Tom, im serious, please…”

“Yes, I’ve never been more sure on something in my entire life.”

“Why now? Why haven’t you said anything?”, I asked, still unsure.

“I wanted to, but I didn’t know how to. We would flirt, but you always took it as a joke. I wasn’t joking. I loved you so much as a friend too, I was scared that if I told you, I would lose you. i also hate talking about my feelings and shit, i feel so stupid whenever I do.”

Part of me was still processing everything. Boy I had been in love with forever, loved me back. In the exact same way I loved him, he loved me. I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“fuck it, i love you too. I’ve been in love with you since we were like eight, and I never said anything because I thought I had no chance with you and I didn’t want to make things weird. The only thing I wanted was for you to stay my friend and for you to like me. When you started acting like you didn’t, I felt horrible and I felt like there was no hope for anything for us. I acted like I didn’t feel anything for you because all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. Even if it meant you being with someone else. I love you, Tom.”, I rambled.

He closed the distance between us. He placed his hands on each side of my jaw, his thumbs slowly caressing my cheeks. I could feel myself get goosebumps, staring up into his dark eyes.

“you were going to let me be with someone else so I could be happy? even if it meant you weren’t?”, he softly asked. I nodded.

“what did I ever do to deserve someone so sweet liek you?”, he murmured. His eyes glanced down at my lips. He took one of his thumbs and pulled it across my bottom lip, tugging down at it gently.

“God, you don’t even know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.”

“How long?”

He laughed.

“Forever. I want to kiss you now more than ever.”

“Prove it.”

He chuckled at my boldness. Tom leaned in, our noses brushing against each other. I couldn’t stand the teasing anymore, I had waited too long. I dipped his face and pulled him down. Tom, smiling into the kiss at my neediness. It was so passionate, I could kiss his mmm forever. Our lips fit together like puzzle pieces. I pulled him in more, unsure if he was even able to get any closer than he already was. he tasted like Marlboro Reds and liquor. I loved it, I couldn’t get enough of him. One of his hands found its way down to my waist, while the other one tangled itself in my hair. He tugged ever so slightly, earning a soft groan from me. Tom smiled at this, getting the exact reaction he wanted. He pulled away, our foreheads resting against each other.

“fuck, you look so pretty. I wanted to tell you how good you looked earlier tonight but i was too scared.”, he mumbled. I smiled, the sweetness that I had missed was returning to Tom. I pulled him back into another kiss, the first one being incredibly addicting. Our tongues fought for dominance, of course he won.

The door to the roof swung open, startling both Tom and I. We attempted to pull away, but I before I could even see who it was, I heard Bill’s voice.

“I was looking for you guy- OH MY GOD.”, he said, a little shocked. his face quickly turned into a smile.

“What took you guys so long?”, he teased.

“Oh shut up.”, Tom laughed, his hand now around my waist.

“Well, I ordered us some more shots, so… c’mon. you guys can finish whatever this is later.”, he smiled, waking back into the building.

“let’s go inside.”, i said.

Tom kissed me again, this time with the full intent of being sweet and gentle.

“it feels weird to say out loud now, but I love you.”, he said into my ear. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling. I looked back up to him, seeing the very boy that i fell in love with all those years ago.

“I love you, too.”

~

a/n #2 ~ THIS WAS SO LONG IM SORRY. also sorry for this taking so long the first one I wrote DELETED😕 I’m on vacation right now but I hope you guys enjoyed this long ass story.

[fantasy-relax]

Sweet alpha, Dangerous Omega

Part 1 Part 10 Part 11

Your healing continued without trouble despite your unconscious state, the hunger and dehydration plus your wounds exhausted you enough to stay still while Alcina healed you.

The fact that the matriarch had been as delicate as possible with you helped a lot.

The poor cub was just doing her duty

Standing on the side of your bed Alcina closed her eyes, stopping repressing her Beta from whom she could feel disappointment and anguish along with immense fury.

Cassandra is too strong and stubborn to be easily dominated, if the alpha had been like all the others, taking her by force, our wolf would have ripped out her throat with her teeth. Remember that when we found her, she did not have any wounds, not a single bruise or scratch, her aroma was soft and light without a trace of that bitterness that weighed us down so much.

When we returned to that cabin, we found an Alpha in agony willing to die in our hands rather than endure being without our girl for more than a second, she didn't beg, she didn't even try to run away, she stayed still, just holding in her arms the only memory she had left, refusing to die without it. She only acted violently when he noticed Cassandra's scent and her smell only transmitted a threat towards us, a threat that disappeared when she recognized who the omega, she had lived with was, an omega whose reputation was more than infamous, however in her eyes there was only affection. We witnessed her behavior during her heat, we saw firsthand the care and gentleness with which the alpha treated our cub who for the first time in decades was not suffering alone.

Despite the anger, shame and frustration that she feels, Cassandra is much more relaxed compared to her past Heats.

There will never be anyone who deserves our daughters, however, that Alpha will spend the rest of her life trying to be worthy.

Cassandra can deny it as many times as she wants, but her Omega wants that Alpha as her partner. Her stubbornness against her instinct will only cause her trouble and misery.

And you know that well.

The lady of the house put a hand to her face just to stop immediately when she saw the stains she had from your blood.

The blood from the wounds she caused you.

A woman is different, her parents punish her for her existence.

What a familiar story, don't you think?

The Beta's words were like a blow to her face, guilt filled her chest and the gravity of her actions weighed on her shoulders.

A pale woman whose death was hoped for, fighting to live another day.

What a familiar story.

--------------------------------

While causing pain didn't bring her as much pleasure as it did Cassandra, Lucia's moans were music to her ears.

“Hey Bela, what did she do?”

In her quest for revenge, she had forgotten to tell Daniela about what happened she simply burst into the library with a promise of fresh prey and the redhead followed her.

“Remember how I told you that the alpha had failed to demonstrate self-control?”

"Aha?"

"I was wrong, actually her self-control is admirable, in her shoes I would have torn out this bitch's tongue." She took the sickle out of the woman's leg only to skewer it in the other and continued her walk to the dungeon, ignoring the cries behind her.

“Oh? Miss Perfect admitting a mistake? I think boredom is making me hallucinate”

The two stopped when they heard Cassandra's voice, the brunette came out of her swarm with a mocking smile, leaning on the back of her younger sister.

“Oh, did you hear that too Cassie? For a moment I thought I had gone deaf.” Daniela rubbed her ears, smiling at the oldest of the three. “So, what did she do, you can't leave us wondering.”

Bela let go of her sickle, sighing knowing that her sisters wouldn’t let her forget this. Glancing sideways at Cassandra she decided to at least have a little fun.

“Well, you know that mother left me in charge of the Alpha.” The smile faded from Cassandra's face. "In just one month she has exceeded my expectations, her discipline and work are magnificent, and Relia recognizes her ability to the point of declaring her as her future substitute." The brunette rolled her eyes, but in the air you could detect the slight pride that her scent gave off. “That is why I am sad to admit that I judged her without seeking more evidence”

“Eh afa-aff lieugh-s”

It seems that the beating you gave her had knocked out a few neurons in addition to her teeth.

“So, there have never been any acts of violence against said alpha?” Cassandra's posture stiffened. “Are the physical and verbal attacks that I have been informed of nothing more than fallacies?” Her sister, with false calm, approached the maid's body and placed her heel on her chest.

"So?"

“Lie-ugh-s” Yes, she was stupid.

“It's also a lie that the reason she attacked you was because you said that my sister was so desperate to be fucked that she would let the Lycans mount her” Daniela looked at her in horror, shaking her head in disgust at the image while Cassandra turned to her seeing her with indignation and disgust to which Bela only shrugged her shoulders. “Words more words less”

“LI-AHH” Cassandra kicked her jaw, dislocating it again while Daniela grabbed the embedded sickle and twisted it.

"Besides, the person who told me wasn´t the alpha, it was another maid who witnessed your actions." If it weren't for Zina... "You attacked a co-worker and disrespected the Dimitrescu House," she approached the woman's face and force her to look at her by holding her dislocated jaw. “And you still try to evade your punishment? The alpha hasn't made even the slightest complaint these days, and still, you think you're superior?” She asked with anger before controlling herself, “Normally Cassandra would take care of you.”

“Ugh, am I really still grounded?” The brunette complained. “It's been a month already!”

“And mother said you still will be grounded for another eight.” In reality were four, but she was still upset with Cassandra for her irresponsibility. She signaled to Daniela to continue walking. The pool of blood was going to be difficult to remove, and they had left a trail of blood on the entire hallway, perfect that would make them remember who was in charge. “But she said you were free to give advice on how to proceed with her.”

Her sister sighed, but she nodded, accepting what was offered.

“If Daniela can be patient, maybe you can keep her alive for more than a week.”

“HEY”

“Let's start with the basics, we have to prevent her from bleeding completely, Daniela take out the sickle and use this to make a tourniquet on her legs” Cassandra offered a rope to the minor and then smiled evilly at Lucia, making sure to show her fangs “She deserves special treatment after all.”

---------------------------------------

When you woke up you looked at the ceiling of your room feeling relief for not being trapped in the dungeon you looked at the window finally noticing how late it was. Lady Dimitrescu had shown mercy in releasing you early and you repaid her by sleeping during work hours.

You got up immediately to put on your uniform and left the room without even taking a bath, chasing away the flies that fluttered around you attracted by your bad smell. Some of them left but one stayed, refusing to die crushed by your hands. You gave up and let it rest on your neck.

You swore it was laughing at you.

Arriving at the workshop you were greeted by Relia who scolded you, but not for the reason you expected.

“You should be resting for another day! *Sniff* You haven't even bathed, Holy Mother Miranda, give me patience, Come here.”

You followed her without saying anything, you didn't want to make her more angry but as always she was the one who broke the silence.

"I'm sorry"

“Uh?”

“I didn't realize how you were treated, I thought you just didn't want to get involved with Betas when in reality they were the ones who didn't want you to be there.” She looked at you with determination. “Things will be different, I promise you.”

"You don't have to apologize, that's normal for me, an alpha woman is an aberration just like an omega man, their existence is unnatural and grotesque and should be treated as such."

Although you had hoped that outside the town it would be different, the reality was that here being treated with insults and beatings was common. You never expected it to be different in the castle.

You stiffened as you felt arms wrap around you only to relax as you realized it was just Relia giving you a hug.

It felt good.

“I will make sure to create a new normal for you.”

You leaned on her more.

For a moment you thought the fly was rubbing against you offering its own form of comfort.

----------------------------

After your bath, Relia took you to the kitchen where Dorottea received her with a light slap for not going to breakfast while she told you to sit down with a light dish since mealtime was close.

Unlike other days, the kitchen staff interacted with you, involving you in their conversations.

Which seemed to be a bad decision.

Every time you mentioned something about your life in the village, all the women would stare at you with a mixture of horror, pity, and disbelief.

You knew your life wasn't the best and frankly it was bad but it wasn't that horrible either.

Right?

“Let me see if I heard correctly.” Dorottea joined the conversation after a while. “Your father used you as bait to attract a bear” You nodded. “For which he threw a bucket of blood on you and left you in the middle of the forest with just a whistle.”

“He didn't leave me alone; he climbed a tree to aim and see better so he wouldn't shoot me by mistake again.” Your parents were cruel but it's not like they tried to kill you on purpose.

“Shoot you?!”

"Again?!"

“It was only a few times on my arm and leg and once it grazed my cheek” And every time that happened they let you rest until you healed. “After that he changed the strategy”

"To what?"

“He tied my ankle to a rock and when the bear came, he would throw it to get me out of the way” Much more effective and safer.

Silence.

“At the end he would get me down and adjust my ankle if it had been dislocated” Later he will teach you how to do it on your own, a very useful skill in your opinion.

“How old were you?”

"Eight"

The silence seemed to increase the sound of the clock that marked how close it was to meal time.

The kitchen staff got up and proceeded to do their jobs like every day, however you thought that perhaps they were cutting the ingredients with more force than necessary and you were sure that the murmurs they made under their breath sounded like swear words.

Greta came in, looked at the situation and shrugged her shoulders and then spoke to you.

“Lady Bela wishes to speak with you, follow me.”

-------------------------------------------------

There was no trace of resentment on your face.

“Why didn't you say something about the treatment of maids?”

“I didn't think it was necessary, although it caused some delays, it was nothing I hadn't dealt with before”

After reading Greta's report it was easy to understand why it took you so long to get to your lessons. Another thing that she punished you for without first asking you what was happening, she rubbed her temples for a second before looking at you again.

“You could have told me when the incident with Lucia occurred” Your eyes shone with fury for a few seconds. You closed them as you took a breath and the fire faded.

“I broke the rules that were imposed on me, no matter the reason it doesn't change the fact that I disobeyed Lady Dimitrescu's orders, as well as yours.”

Bela sighed, her guilt still weighing on her.

“Any person would react badly upon hearing those words, you had great self-control to avoid killing her considering that she offended the omega of your interest.”

The seriousness with which you acted faded, you blushed completely and avoided her gaze.

“Well it's uhh” You cleared your throat to control your voice “I must act like a proper alpha if I want to be Lady Cassandra's heat partner.”

Oh?

“And what do you think an alpha does that qualifies her as adequate?”

Despite your firm stance there was a resignation and defeat in your eyes.

“Provides their partner with food and shelter, protects them from any enemy and never makes them doubt their loyalty and affection.” You took a deep breath. “I know that the only thing I can offer Lady Cassandra is my presence and body, however, if I can do anything else for her, I will do it without thinking.”

So, for you that's being an alpha.

To protect and provide with love and loyalty.

Black God seems like a line taken from one of the novels that-

“How romantic!”

Daniela likes so much…

“Dani, what did I tell you about entering without knocking?”

 Her sister completely ignored her as she held your hands.

“Don't you want to be my mate? I'll treat you better than Cassie." Her little sister was shamelessly flirting with you.

Blushing up to your ears, you freed yourself from Daniela's grip and took a step back.

“It would be an honor to be your mate Lady Daniela” You bowed your head “However it is Lady Cassandra who my alpha has chosen and I agree with that decision, I apologize for rejecting your generous offer.”

Silence.

Daniela hugged you, almost drowning you in her chest.

“AWW NO PROBLEM, CUTIE I WILL BE MORE THAN SATISFIED BEING YOUR FAVORITE SISTER-IN-LAW”

You were on your tiptoes with your hands fluttering around not knowing where to place them.

You really were a special case.

“Dani, you are going to suffocate her, and Cassandra is going to get angry with you if you rub your scent on her.”

As soon as you were free you took breaths of air without control.

“Killjoy, you don't want me to be her favorite, you've already spent a lot of time with her now it's my turn!”

“If I spend so much time with her, that's why; one, I am in charge of her and two, I give her classes”

“You have surely bored her to death with your numbers.”

“That you don't like mathematics is another thing”

Daniela pouted and then smiled in a way that Bela knew meant trouble.

“You are very busy, dear sister. What do you think if we divide the work?” She raised an eyebrow, intrigued by what her sister was planning. “You teach her about math, geometry and everything boring” she rolled her eyes. “And I am in charge of teaching her about literature, grammar and writing, which you know very well I am better at than you.” Daniela finished by placing her hands on her back while she wiggled back and forth on the balls of her feet.

With a hand on her chin Bela considered the offer, your writing needed improvement and you had numerous errors in your spelling with Daniela teaching, you would learn properly and her schedule wouldn't be so tight.

"That seems fine to me"

“Yesss”

Walking towards you Bela placed a hand on your shoulder, you tensed for a second before relaxing considerably.

“You will continue with your work with Relia, I am in charge of establishing a class schedule with Daniela”

“Boring”

"Daniela"

With her sister quiet, she decided to make something else clear.

“I'm in charge of you, if you have a problem, tell me immediately” You nodded “And if someone insults my family again you are free to punish them” She let go of your shoulder and caressed your head, smiling as she noticed how you leaned closer to her when he walked away. “You can leave.”

Alone with Daniela, it was the youngest who broke the silence.

“The blouse she is wearing is yours, right?”

“Yes, I'm surprised Cassandra hasn't noticed it yet.”

Sighing, her sister sat on the couch.

“Cass hasn't noticed because she's been avoiding her since she kicked her out of her room.” Daniela rubbed her face with both hands. “She denies that she has any interest and what happened was just a slip of her omega's heat"

Bela returned to her new desk, sitting down to review reports on the status of the vineyard.

Daniela turned to look at her. “Do we agree that the plan is to bother Cassie until she admits her interest?” she asked mischievously.

"Absolutely"