#i feel like i'm the only one whose heart will be broken reading this but stillll

[yumeka-sxf]

According to this tweet from Endo, today's new chapter will be the final installment of the "Henry x Martha backstory" arc...and it definitely went out on a high note! The part where Martha meets Henry's wife was absolutely heartbreaking...in particular the below page, starting with an upside down view of the scene, showing how the world is literally warping for Martha, followed by shards and shreds of her various memories with Henry, all the while the "throb, throb" of her heart is overlaying all the panels. Definitely one of Endo's best portrayals of a truly shocking moment.

It's also interesting that we never see Lucia's face, despite her having a big panel when she first appears.

Endo has done this before with other characters, Loid's parents being the other big example. We also never see their faces, despite them appearing several times during his flashback arc.

With the few examples we've had, to me it seems like Endo hides the faces of characters who 1) appear as flashbacks only and 2) who have had a significant emotional impact on the character whose memories they appear in, but at the same time, that character has since done their best to get over the painful memories associated with them. So they basically represent some past trauma for the character (even if they don't necessarily dislike them) but in the current time, they've more or less left that part of their past behind. Hence why their faces are obscured in the character's memories. This is also why I think we'll never see Loid's parents or Lucia's faces outside of flashbacks. This is just my interpretation of course, and I'm curious if there will be more examples in other characters' flashback arcs.

But back to Henry and Martha, I also liked the fact that, despite her broken heart, Martha still saw Lucia as a good person and became friends with her. Henry seems to love her as well. This actually ties back very well to what Martha tells Becky at the end of her story about how dangerous it is to latch onto preconceptions and prejudices without knowing the truth.

In Becky's simple world, she would see Lucia as the "evil seductress who stole Henry away" and Martha has to get him back. But as Martha said, things aren't always that simple and don't always adhere to our preconceived notions. Sometimes things can't end up exactly how you want or expect, so you have to be grateful for what you have and see things as they truly are, despite living with lingering regrets. In fact, this whole speech from Martha at the conclusion of her flashback was extremely deep and profound. Not many people can write both comedy and drama so well, but Endo is certainly one of them.

Also, is this Wiesel's first appearance? Still waiting for the doggy play date chapter with Wiesel, Bond, Max, and Aaron! 🐶

Since it's been so long since I read the first chapter of this arc, I couldn't remember if Martha had actually revealed the identity of her lover in her story, but makes sense that she didn't. I can imagine Becky storming into school yelling at Henderson and causing total embarrassment for all 😅 Funny that she almost guessed correctly though.

I'm surprised we never found out how Martha started working for the Blackbells, but that's an easy enough mystery to solve - she needed work after the wars were over, and being a bodyguard suited an ex-soldier. Also seems like she never told Henry her true feelings either...maybe by the time Lucia died, it was too late and they had both grown somewhat apart by then, and/or they had some additional falling outs about Martha joining the other wars, etc. It just wasn't meant to be and the message of the story was Martha coming to terms with that and being wiser for it.

In conclusion, this was a great arc that really shows Endo's range as a writer who can do both comedy and drama very well. Despite Henry and Martha being side characters, I have a feeling that the struggles they experienced will have relevance later in the series. But for now, I look forward to seeing the Forgers and other characters again (and getting back to the last major uproar of Anya telling Damian about her powers...seems like ages ago, lol). Endo will be taking a well deserved break, so the next new chapter will be on August 19th!

I also have some new posts planned in the coming weeks, so stay tuned for those as well 😀

[silentglassbreak]

hi bestie is it too late to request? you said you liked writing angst, well, i love reading it 💔💔painfully unrequited love!!!!! gimme gimme

friends with benefits with (overly affectionate!!!!) Noah and reader who falls sick to her stomach head over heels in love with him. blurring the lines between sex and love.

going to a bad omens concert however long after and it’s like they’re strangers oOF rip my heart out and stomp on it idc. been listening to Novocaine on a loop all day. i’m not okay

feel to totally disregard if you’re not feeling it angel <33 thank you bby I love your writing 🥺🥺

Angst............. UGH I've been WAITING babes. My goal is to rip your heart out...fair fucking warning. MMMLOVEYOUUUUU. After Writing Notes: I'm the actual worst. I hope you don't hate it!

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: smut, heartbreak, lots and lots of angst

Can You Feel My Heart

Love languages are such a strange concept, aren't they? That seems to be a fairly new idea that someone came up with in the last decade or so?

If you like to buy love...your love language is gifting.

If you can't communicate well...your love language is affection.

If the only way you know how to show feelings is with sex...your love language is intimacy.

At what point are we allowed to call someone out for being a dick? At what point are we allowed to confront the fact that someone is skipping around the idea of commitment, and ask them to just admit what they really want?

This wasn't the first time these thoughts had danced around my head, in the wee hours of the morning, while Noah's arm laid heavy across my waist, him snoozing behind me.

Noah and I had been friends since we were seven years old. We met on the playground at the park in the center of the neighborhood of our small town in West Virginia. He told me he liked my butterfly hair clips, and I let him have the blue one. He wore it in his hair every day for three weeks.

He grew up in a broken home, only his Mom around most of his years, and even then - that relationship was...strained. So many nights he had snuck into my bedroom window, curling up next to me, tears free falling down his cheeks. We never talked about why, but it didn't take a psychic to figure it out.

He moved in with his Grandmother when he was fourteen, and even though he lived in the next town over, he still made it a point to take the city bus to me every day after school, even when he dropped out.

We were never more than twin flames, incapable of existing without each other, moral support for the other during any type of hardship. Looking back, I guess that was what built our serious dependence issues.

"I can't live without you, Y/N. I'll die if I ever lose you."

"No you won't Noah, don't be stupid."

He was stupid. As stupid as they come, because when I turned eighteen, and started college, he had paid one of his friends to drive him all the way up to Columbus to see me. He showed up at the door of my dorm, drunk and broken, blathering on about how only having been away from me for a week had killed him, and he needed to see me.

That was the first night he kissed me, and I let him.

As most people do when having grown up with someone so closely, I had developed an attachment to Noah very early on. I first recognized it when he turned twelve, and started skateboarding. He would insist on trying to teach me how, despite my undeniable clumsiness. His hands would grip my hips, his face so close to my ear, and his chest pressed to my back. He would talk in this deep voice, his puberty hitting early. I was awe-struck.

He was my best friend, sure. But he belonged to me, that's what he always said.

Even when he had girlfriends, I always came first. Dates would get cancelled for me; plans changed. Hell, he even blew off one girl whose birthday fell on the same day as mine. I was his priority. I was his person.

So when he leaned in to me, sitting on the edge of my mattress in the dorm, liquor stained-breath against my face, I just closed my eyes and let it happen.

He spent the night with me, and had to leave early. Vowing to come back, he never broke his word.

There he was the following weekend, sober this time, with snacks, DVDs, and a week’s worth of clothes. I managed to hide him in my room for four days before the dorm advisor caught him.

The second day he was there was the first time we had sex. I was a virgin, and he was not. That hurt me, sure. Not enough to deny him what was rightfully his. I belonged to Noah, body and soul. He took his time, walked me through it, and gave me the best possible experience I could expect. It hurt, and it was weird, but a sense of relief washed over me.

We had finally crossed that threshold. We had sex three times that week, until he was forced to leave.

That's when the words left his mouth.

"We need to talk."

That conversation broke something inside of me. He loved me, but he didn't love me. He was honored to have been allowed to give me something so meaningful, but he could never see me as more than his best friend. Our friendship was too important, and he wouldn't even allow himself to entertain the idea of jeopardizing that. He had made up his mind, and he couldn't have feelings for me.

It was with the heaviest heart imaginable, I sucked back my tears, painted an easy smile on my face, and held his hands in mine.

"I totally understand, Noah. No worries! We can just have fun, you know?"

And that was it. We were stuck in this sick, frozen place for the last two years. I was about to finish my Associates in Columbus, and hoped to become pre-med at Boston U, but Noah didn't know that yet. I could never figure out how to tell him.

Noah Davis was this heavy, bright flame that I was desperately afraid to extinguish. He had formed a band right after our arrangement began, and he was twenty-four hours away from leaving on their first major tour that would take him around the entire country, and then across the Atlantic to Europe.

How could I tell him that while he was gone, I was likely moving even further, and starting my life without him?

I didn't want to live without him, but he was leaving, and I couldn't sit and wait forever...

I breathed out a sigh, the light beginning to stream in the window of my one-bedroom apartment. He needed to wake up, drive home, and make sure he was ready to leave tomorrow. It was only 6AM, so I knew he'd be cranky, but I couldn't put this off any longer.

“Noah?” I breathed out his name. He groaned in response. “You’ve got to get up. You have to get ready to head home.”

"Mm, ten more minutes." I rolled my eyes, and began sliding out from underneath him.

His arm locked, and held me in place. I giggled, and saw as he turned his face, one eye cracking open. "Don't get up. It's too early."

I narrowed my eyes. "I have class at 8AM."

Noah used his strength against me, pulling my body to him and holding me tight so I couldn't get up. This only made me laugh louder.

"You don't need to get up for another hour."

"Not if I want to shower."

He sighed into the pillow. "So crazy, cause I don't think you do."

I rolled my eyes. "Dude, you've got to get home. Nick will kill us both if you're not ready in time."

"I'm not scared of her." He smirked, and I smacked his arm.

"Shut up. And get off me!"

He stuck his bottom lip out, pouting heavily.

"Not going to work. C'mon." I wriggled hard enough to break his grip, and sat up, stretching my arms over my head. He sat up as well, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

I pulled a robe over myself, turning to look at him as he scrolled through his phone, checking messages.

"Coffee?" I asked, and he threw a thumbs up at me.

I left the room, headed for the kitchen, trying to keep my breathing even. I had very little time left.

Filling the pot with water, I felt his arms wrap around me from behind, his face burying in my neck.

"I don't want to go. I'm going to miss you so much."

I leaned into the touch, taking anything I could at this point. "I know. I'll miss you more."

He scoffed. "Not a chance."

Holding me for a few more moments, he let go to head to the fridge, pulling out the bagels and cream cheese, and plopping down at the dining table. I continued my work of preparing our coffee.

"Hey, uh," I started, keeping my voice as calm as I could. "there's something I wanted to chat with you about."

I turned around, two hot mugs in my hand. He was spreading the cream on a bagel, already having prepared one for me. I sat next to him at the table.

"What's up?" He didn't look up at me.

"I told you I had been trying to decide where to start medical school?" He just nodded in response. "Well, I find out today if I got into Boston."

He halted, his eyes snapping up to me. "Boston?"

I took a sip of coffee. "They've got the best med program on the East coast-"

He cut me off. "Since when were you looking on the East coast?"

His tone was darkening. This was going to go about as well as I expected.

"Since I realized I had a chance. Noah, my GPA and scholar program gives me a real shot."

He grit his teeth, setting his bagel down. "Boston is far, Y/N."

I kept calm, setting my mug down as well. "I know."

"So, why would you want to be so far away?"

"Well, you're going far too, Noah. Your first show is in San Diego."

He sat back in his chair. "Yeah, but the last one puts me right back here in Columbus for a month before I go overseas."

I nodded. "I know. I'll still be here, then. You get back six weeks before the end of the semester."

He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You can't go to Boston."

There was a finality to his tone, and something about it made my insides flinch with irritation.

"Oh no? And if I do?"

"You can't."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Can't? And since when do you tell me what I can and can't do?"

He rolled his eyes, standing from the table and walking over to the trash, binning the half of his bagel he didn't eat. "We can't be that far away from each other."

Lifting my eyebrows, I stood as well, crossing my arms. "And why is that, Noah?"

He leaned back against the counter. "Y/N, you know why."

"What? So you have someone to fuck whenever you want? Whenever one of your little groupies isn't around?"

His eyes popped open, then. "What?"

"You heard me." My tone was deadly, matching my stare at him.

"You really think the only reason I want you close is because of the sex?" He seemed truly stunned.

"Well, why else would you want me around?" I threw my hands up, walking back down the hallway toward my bedroom. I could hear his footfall behind me. I just continued, stepping into the closet to get dressed.

"What is that supposed to mean? I always want you around."

Rolling my eyes, I clasped my bra on and popped my head out to look at him. "Noah, I'm convenient for you. Unless you have any other valid reasons to keep coming over, I don't know why else it matters."

His jaw dropped open. "That is not true."

Pulling my shirt on, I scoffed. "Please, dude. Spare me the act, okay?"

"What act?"

I pulled my jeans on, buttoning them before stepping out to face him again. "The 'you're my person, and I can't lose you' act." I quoted myself. Something about that pissed him off, because he crossed his own arms and stared me down.

"The fuck are you getting at, Y/N?"

I shook my head, brushing past him, and walked toward the bathroom.

"Noah," I turned to look directly at him. "we've been at this for years. It's kind of old, don't you think?"

His face softened slightly. "We had an agreement."

I nodded. "You're right, we did. Just sex, for the sake of our friendship. That's what you wanted."

"I thought that's what we wanted."

Waving a hand between us, I took a step toward him. "Oh no, Noah. That's what you wanted. Not me."

He was silent, then.

"I wanted more. I always have. I thought that had become clear over the years, but I fucking guess not." I could hear my voice raising a few octaves. "You didn't give me a choice. You came in, broke that boundary, and then put it right back up again. And I stayed, just so I wouldn't lose you."

I could feel the tears beginning to well in my eyes.

His voice came out small, then, his hands now buried in his pockets.

"What do you want from me, Y/N?"

I sighed, letting one tear escape. "I want you to love me."

He pulled his hands out, stepping toward me and taking one of mine. I let him.

"I do love you!"

I stared at him, my teeth ground together. "Do you? The way I love you?"

Noah was a lot of things. He was brilliant, funny, generous, dedicated. He had the most redeeming qualities of anyone I knew.

And sure, he could be stupid. But not that stupid.

He had known how I felt about him. Of course he did. That was why I kissed him every chance I got. Why I always let him in. Why I never dated anyone else. Why I stayed all this time.

But here? In this moment? He was the biggest idiot I knew, because he dropped my hand, his eyes falling with it, and took a step backward.

"I..." He huffed out a breath, looking back up at my tear-stained face. "I can't. I'm sorry."

I averted my eyes, then. I could feel myself breaking, crumbling right before him.

"You need to leave, Noah."

I could feel he wanted to pull back to me, like a moon in orbit of a planet. Gravity. But he didn't. He just stepped back toward the doorway.

"What does this mean?" I heard his voice, but wouldn't meet his eyes.

I sniffed hard, trying like hell to keep myself upright.

"It means you go on tour. Be who you are, Noah. And I'll be who I am. Without each other."

His body shifted, but I was stone, unmoving.

"I can't lose you." I heard him let out a light, sarcastic laugh. "I'll die."

I let myself laugh at that.

"No you won't, Noah. Don't be stupid."

7 Years Later

Residency is going to kill me. I may actually die in pursuit of this God awful career I've chosen. I was three years in to a five year program, intending to finish in General Practice, but until that time, I was just an idiotic twenty-seven year-old with no life, no sleep, and no clean fucking clothes to wear.

Every resident gets exactly forty-eight hours of paid time off every three months, and I had not taken mine in over a year. I finally had taken all of my hours - six days total - off of work, and after spending the entire first day sleeping, I was due to meet with Raylene in an hour.

Ray and I met at the beginning of residency, and quickly gotten close. We managed to find an affordable apartment together within walking distance of the hospital, and spent any rare free time we had together. She was currently at her boyfriend's place, spending some much needed time with him, before we went out for the evening.

I was digging through my unfolded laundry, trying to find something not too wrinkled or stained to wear tonight. Ray had told me we were going to a concert for a band she had recently discovered, but she didn't tell me who it was. I didn't care, to be honest. Existing somewhere other than the Emergency Room or my own bed sounded heavenly.

Finally settling on a deep red cropped t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and the Vans I rarely got to wear, I straightened my hair and applied what little makeup I could. I set out of the building to the waiting vehicle downstairs, Ray practically hanging from the passenger window.

"You look so fine!"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Sure. Like I might've slept in the last two weeks?"

She chortled back at me, leaning in her seat once I was in the car. I waved hello to her boyfriend Sean, and gazed at Ray.

"So, Tyler isn't coming."

She frowned at me. "Why not?"

I shrugged. "Said he had a case he was working on, and he really couldn't spare the time."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical lawyer. Too busy for anyone but his clients."

Tyler and I had been dating for about six months now. Maintaining a relationship while having jobs as busy as ours was difficult, but he somehow managed to work it out. He would pop in when he knew I had breaks to bring me food, or have me spend nights off at his place, massaging my neck and helping me get caught up on my favorite series. He was an honest man. A good man.

I liked him.

Right?

It's so hard to tell what's like and what's convenient when you live your life exhausted and overworked, so I didn't have a lot of time to question it.

"Bummer for him. I'm so excited to see this show!" Ray was beaming in the front seat.

"Yeah, who are we seeing, anyway?"

"A band called ERRA. They're opening for a bigger headliner, who I've heard are pretty good too."

I nodded. "I've never heard them."

"It's rock. Metal, really." Sean chimed in, and I acknowledged him silently, looking out of the window.

My mind zoned out while we drove to the House of Blues. Ray and Sean chatted idly up front, but I was just enjoying the fact that I was finally out of the house for once.

That is, until we walked into the venue. The banner poster stared at me, the photographs of the band mocking me...

Bad Omens...they were the headliner.

Memories flooded back to my brain, my insides clenching at the visions.

I hadn't spoken to him since that day...that last day in my apartment. When he left, and never looked back. I didn't even keep in touch with the rest of the guys, for fear that I would be sucked back into the maelstrom that was Noah Davis...

“Y/N?” I turned to see Ray stood behind me, noticing my reaction. “You okay?”

My mind wasn’t comprehending what I was seeing. There’s no way that was them? The last time I had heard of the band, they were one-of-four supporting bands on much larger headliners. Now, they were selling out tickets at their own tour? Seven years was a long time…but how had they gotten this popular?

I wondered this, as if I didn’t know how wildly talented those boys were. Aside from Noah, Nicky, Jolly, and Nick Folio were some of the most intelligent and creative minds I had known. They all brought something special to that band, but I would have never expected this.

Huh. Guess he could live without me after all?

Something bitter crept into the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down, staring at his photograph on the poster.

“Yeah,” I tore my eyes away for a second to look at Raylene. “sorry, I’m fine. Just didn’t realize Bad Omens was the headliner.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You’ve heard of them?”

I pulled my lips to the side. Did I want to tell her?

“Long time ago.”

I couldn’t get past how different he looked in the picture. Last time I saw Noah, his hair was halfway down his back, he was skinny, and he had the thinnest little mustache growing on his upper lip.

In these promo pictures, however, his hair was short, not even reaching his ears, he looked much more muscular, and he had no facial hair. He also had many more tattoos than I remembered. That wasn’t surprising. Noah was a tattoo addict from a very young age.

Jolly had let his hair grow and had the cutest goatee on his chin. Nicky looked almost exactly the same. And Nick, bless his heart, had grown into such a handsome guy. They all looked so grown, so serious and broody. It almost made me giggle, knowing how goofy these guys were in real life.

Noah looked the most stunningly different from the rest. Not only did his entire appearance change, but his eyes…something in them was just so much darker. That harsh flame I had once known was so dim. It almost hurt to see. Almost.

We were making our way out to the pit of the GA floor. I had decided to get myself a cocktail to take the edge off. I didn't plan to come face-to-face with him, and likely wouldn't even get the opportunity to get a good look at him period, but still...just knowing we were in the same room made my throat tighten. I washed it down with Vodka and cranberry juice, hoping the warmth of the liquor would unfreeze my nerves.

The first band, Invent Animate, was entertaining enough. Very interactive with the crowd and high-energy. I found it pleasant, but couldn't get myself to focus long enough to notice what they were singing about. I struggled to breathe, the set ending, and knowing I was one hour closer to seeing his face.

During the intermission, Ray excused herself to the restroom, and I stood with Sean, feeling dizzier as the moments passed.

"Hey, I think I'm going to step out for a second. Get some air."

He quirked an eyebrow at me. "You okay? Want me to come with?"

I shook my head. "Nah, don't want you to miss the band you guys came to see. I'll be back."

He nodded, patting me on the shoulder before I weaved in and out of the crowd. I discarded my plastic cup in a trash can before exiting out into the main lobby. I found a spot on the wall near the doors that was unoccupied, and leaned against it, letting my eyes close and my breathing even out.

When I opened my eyes, I searched the room, looking for nothing specific. I landed on the merch tables, and saw someone oddly familiar talking to the lead singer of the last band we had watched...

The liquid courage is what carried me in that direction, smiling to myself.

He stood with his hair pulled back, as usual, and was talking with his hands. Same as he always did.

"Nicky Ruffilo..." I said loud enough to hopefully catch his attention, my hands now grasping the edge of the table.

His head snapped over to look at me, his brows knit together curiously. I could tell he was putting it together.

"No fucking way..." His voice sounded the same as it always had. "Y/N?!"

My teeth flashed at him, and he circled the table to approach me, his arms pulling me into a tight hug.

"Jesus Christ, I didn't recognize you!" That was fair.

Since the last time I had seen any of the guys, I had bleached my hair a pale blonde, lost twenty-five pounds, and had grown two cup sizes. I was, for all intents and purposes, an entirely different person.

"Yeah, well I absolutely recognized you." I said as I gripped his shirt, squeezing him tight.

"How long has it been?" He asked, pulling back to look at me.

"Uh," I thought for a moment. "seven-ish years?"

Nick's eyes were in disbelief, an amazed leer on his face. "God damn, girl. I can't believe it."

I pointed to the banner above his head. "Headlining now, huh? That's amazing!"

He smiled, proudly. "Yeah, we've worked really hard. A lot's changed."

My eyes fell on Noah's face on the poster. "I can see that."

I could tell he was pondering, a question hanging on the edge of his tongue. It was the most obvious question, so I answered for him.

"He doesn't know I'm here."

He nodded, leaning an arm on the table comfortably. "Ah, okay. You didn't want him to?"

I snorted. "I didn't even know I'd be here. My friends came to see ERRA, and that's when I realized you guys were here."

"Makes sense." He had crossed his arms. "Do you want him to know?"

Contemplating this, I let my face fall to get away from his gaze. I wasn't certain how to answer that, but it seemed like the answer was clear regardless.

"No." I sighed hard. "It's probably for the best that he doesn't, right?"

I couldn't read Nick's face, if he was disappointed or relieved. He seemed to be pretty satisfied with my answer, but I could tell he had more he wished he could say.

"Fair enough." Was all he gave me, before letting out a breath. "So, you still live up here?"

I let my muscles relax for a second. "Yeah, doing a residency at Brigham right now."

"Residency? Does that mean you're a doctor?" He asked, clearly confused.

I cackled at this. "Yeah, full blown doctor. Got the little 'MD' after my name and everything."

He beamed at me. "That's so great! Congratulations!"

"Thank you, Nicky." It fell quiet between us once again, and I could hear ERRA's set beginning. "Well, I should probably-"

He spoke over me. "Yeah! Those guys put on a great show. Don't miss it!"

I gave him another hug, reveling in how warm he still felt.

Turning to walk away, I stopped, needing one last thing...

"Nick?"

His face turned back to me.

"How is he?"

I could see the sadness fall over his tan features, and I instantly regretted asking.

"He's..." He trailed off, taking in a large breath. "He's different, Y/N. I doubt you'd recognize him."

"How so?"

Something about my question almost seemed to annoy him. Odd?

"Like I said, a lot has changed. He's changed. He had to." He gestured to me. "Same way you did."

I accepted this, not wanting to press any further. "Thanks, Nick."

He pointed a finger at me. "Hey, we're going to be back here in the fall for a couple days. Don't be a stranger, okay?" I grinned at this. "I know Jolly and Folio would kill to see you."

I just nodded, turning and walking away. My eyes met with Ray's, who was standing, watching my interaction. How much had she seen? Did she hear anything?

"Hey, what are you doing? You're missing ERRA!"

Her brows were pulled up suspiciously. "Who was that?" She pointed after Nick, who had now disappeared from the merch table.

I shook my head. "Oh, that guy? He's the bassist in the headliner band."

This wasn't good enough for her, I could tell by the way she pursed her lips. "Uh-huh. And...you just decided to chat him up like old friends?"

I groaned. "Ugh, how long were you standing there?"

She put all her weight on one hip. "Long enough to see you two talking like you've known each other before. Care to explain?"

Raylene was so nosey. She came by it honestly, her father being a police detective. But still, why did this matter?

"It's not a big deal, Ray. I'll tell you later."

I pulled on her arm, trying to lead her back to the concert hall, but she stood firm, eyeing me. I sucked my teeth in frustration.

"Damn it, alright, come here."

She followed me to the doors leading outside, and we stepped into the cool air.

"Alright, look, I've known Nick since I was ten."

Her eyes jumped. "Oh? Back in West Virginia?"

I nodded. "Exactly. I had no idea their band was going to be here."

"Do you know anyone else in the band?"

I glanced around, feeling wildly uncomfortable by the conversation.

"I may know the entire band."

Her eyes exploded, nearly shooting out of her face cartoonistically.

"What?! The whole band?" I just nodded. "Jesus, Y/N. That's insane!"

I giggled. "I guess. It's just a coincidence."

She smiled at me. "Well that's awesome! Do you want to see the rest of them after? They're doing a free merch signing."

Panic filled my chest, and I put a hand out to grab her shoulder. "No, no. I don't, uh..." I tried to keep my voice solid. "I don't keep in touch with them anymore."

Her eyes narrowed. "Oh? Okay, if you're sure." Something in my voice must have made her feel my anxiety.

We turned, ready to make our way back inside.

"It is too bad. The lead singer's a real looker. I heard one of the girls in the crowd say his name was Noah Sebastian? He's pretty cute."

I almost walked straight into the door, my foot banging off of the pillar. Ray turned around to see me, and something about the look on my face made realization flash over her.

"Oh my God, are you ok-" She stopped dead, eyes widening again. "Wait..."

"Ray, don't." I knew what she had figured out.

"Noah..." I put my hands up, glancing around to ensure no one was looking at us. "As in...Noah? Your old best friend?!"

I shushed her harshly. "Please, Ray. I don't want to think about this."

"That's the guy?! Noah Sebastian is the guy that broke your heart?!"

I was going to actually vomit at that.

"Fuck! Can we not?!" I raised my voice, which made her snap her mouth closed. "Besides, I don't know a Noah Sebastian."

She looked confused. "Is that not his real name?"

I rolled my eyes, turning to walk back in. "It's his middle name."

I spaced out most of what was left of ERRA's set, just trying to put the pieces back together in my brain. This night had not turned into what I had hoped.

I just wanted one night, an easy night, to take a deep breath away from my hectic life. Instead, I was reliving some of my most painful memories, and had a headache to go right along with it from the alcohol. My chest vibrated, the bass just making it so much more difficult to focus.

I stood off of the GA floor, near the bar area, not even realizing the band had finished, and people were swarming to grab drinks and use the restrooms before the men of the evening appeared. Ray approached me, another Vodka cran in her hand, and pushed it into mine.

"Here my love, drink this." I took a long gulp of it. "Do you want us to go? We don't have to stay..."

My eyes were fixed on the stage, where I could see people setting up the equipment. "No." I huffed out a breath, and squeezed my cup. "No, I want to see them play, I think."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're sure? This can't be easy for you."

My eyes burned into her face, which almost made her flinch. "I may never get to see him again, Ray. I have to."

She just nodded, arm linking with mine. "You want to watch from up here?"

I nodded, crunching on a piece of ice from my drink. "No chance of him spotting me back here."

She affirmed my request, and leaned back against the wall with me.

I felt my phone vibrate, and I pulled it from my pocket to see Tyler's name on the screen.

Tyler: Hey beautiful! How's the show?

I held my breath. What kind of a question was that?

Me: Fine. Almost over, just one band left.

He didn't take but a minute to respond.

Tyler: Having fun?

Ha, what a joke.

Me: Yeah. I've had some drinks, so it's helping.

Tyler: Well, enjoy it baby! You deserve it.

That wasn't fair. None of it was. Having to see Noah? The fact that I had an amazing guy, who genuinely liked me, who waited for me. But I still couldn't get my mind off of that irritatingly beautiful face about to take the stage.

The lights went down, and I felt myself tense, throwing back the rest of my drink. My teeth were numb, if that made any sense at all. Ray's hand gripped mine tight, holding me up.

A cinematic scene played on the screens, but I wasn't watching, eyes hastily searching the stage.

A tall man, who I instantly recognized as Jolly, stepped center-stage, a guitar in his hand playing the opening riff to the song. It was heavy, deep and soul shaking.

Folio came out next, his face, like Jolly's, covered in a black ski mask.

Nick took his spot, playing his bass tones.

And then, as the opening crescendoed, a voice rang through the speakers.

A voice I'd never forget.

"Can you hear me through the white noise?"

He blasted onto the stage, glory and all, face covered and thick black jacket on his shoulders.

He sounded different. Angry. Raw, Aggressive. The feeling that sank in my stomach pulled me back further against the wall.

The song played through, his words pulsing through my veins.

As quick as it had started, it was over, and we were on to the next.

The next track was calmer, red lights glowing all throughout the stage.

They had all removed their masks, and I saw his face for the first time. He looked so much older, making it difficult for me to believe he was the same person.

The words of the song resonated deep in my thoughts.

"I don't want to know all your secrets, cause I'll tell. It's hard enough being alone with myself. I don't know how long I'll be holding on..."

Breathing deeply, I watched as the crowd moved with the music, electrifying the energy in the room. It was intoxicating.

Noah had changed...

The set played on without hitch, the entire time I caught myself holding in breaths until I felt my lungs nearly bursting. I couldn't take my eyes off of him, feeling the familiar ache beginning to creep back in.

The music stopped, and a bunch of lights came up. By this time, Noah had discarded his jacket, button-up, and only stood in a black tank top, hands wrapped in what looked like boxing wraps?

"Alright, Boston, how we feeling?" His speaking voice even sounded different...

The crowd erupted.

"We are Bad Omens, and we sincerely appreciate you all being here tonight. The next song we are going to play for you all has been the biggest turning point this band has ever seen." I heard the screams, and did my best to tune them out so I could hear his words. "Is anyone familiar with a song called Just Pretend?"

The room rocked with the cheers and chants of the crowd.

"That volume that I just heard? That's the volume I want to hear you sing this with me, okay? Don't worry about trying to hit the perfect note or get all of the words right. It's about us all, being here together tonight."

The music played softly behind him when his lips reached the microphone.

"I can wait for you at the bottom. I can stay away if you want me to. I can wait for years if I gotta. Heaven knows I ain't getting over you..."

My heart twisted in my chest.

"I'm not afraid, of the war you've come to wage against my sins. I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend. So will you wait me out? Or will you drown me out?"

The tears pooled in my eyes. No fucking way. The song played on, mocking me with the lyrics.

"I know the pain that you hide behind the smile on your face. And not a day goes by where I don't think I feel the same."

"We'll try again, when we're not so different. We will make amends, till then I'll just pretend."

My hands came up to cover my face, my lip trembling hard.

"Weigh down on me. Stay till morning. Way down. Would you say I'm worthy?"

I choked on a sob, my legs pushing me forward, and I ran out of the room. I felt my stomach lurching, my mouth clamping closed as I ran toward the bathroom.

I heard Ray chasing behind me. "Y/N! Wait!"

Flying into the bathroom and finding the first open stall, I fell to my knees, emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. My hands gripped my hair, tears falling hard down my face.

"Oh God, babe." Ray reached to grab my hair from me as I wretched all of the Vodka out of my stomach, my heart and soul pouring out with it.

When I finished, I let my chest heave with sobs, my hand covering my eyes in ebarrassment.

"Fuck, Ray." I said as I wiped my face with the tissue she handed me. "I've got to get the hell out of here."

She nodded. "Okay, my love. Let's do that."

After a solid twenty minutes of cleaning myself up in the bathroom, we stepped out, noticing the crowd now formed outside, waiting at the table for the band to come out for the signing. Ray was frantically dialing Sean, trying to find him among the sea of people. I just plopped myself down on the floor near the restroom, trying to relax as best as I could.

"Y/N?" I looked up at her. "I have to go find Sean. He isn't answering. Can you wait here for me?"

I just nodded, defeated. She was gone, lost within the abyss of people, and I sat, waiting, head in my hands.

I was pulled out of my stupor by the sound of cheering. The band had come out, all waving and smiling. I didn't even bother chancing a glance at him, for fear I may vomit again.

Ray had not come back yet, despite the four or five texts I had now sent her. I had been waiting for a solid thirty minutes, people watching the line and avoiding seeing his face. The ropes of the line were blocking my view of the faces sitting at the table.

After another fifteen, Ray finally bounded up to me, out of breath, Sean in tow.

"Fuck, I'm so sorry! That crowd is vicious!"

I stood slowly, the room only slightly spinning. I swallowed the dry, disgusting feeling in my throat, and began moving toward the exits that were now mostly clear.

"Let's go." She nodded at me, and took my arm. We had to wait behind several people trying to all get through the same revolving door. My skin felt spiky and cold.

"Hang on! Wait!"

A voice behind me made ice run through my veins, and I closed my eyes, begging whatever God existed to spare me in this moment.

A hand gripped my shoulder, and I tensed, turning my face, and my eyes looked straight at him.

He had spotted me, running from his table to catch me. He had to have been pretty damn sure it was me to chase after me like that. Fans began to crowd us, camera phones coming out, pictures snapping.

The look on his face was much less certain than I expected, as if he possibly made a mistake.

"I'm sorry..." His voice was unsteady. "Do I," He cleared his throat, eyes bouncing back and forth between my own. "know you?"

My eyebrows shot up. He really didn't recognize me?

He thought he did, but now...

"No. I don't think so." I spit out my words, teeth grinding together. It felt exactly the same as the last time I had seen him.

He dropped his hand, eyes still transfixed on mine. "I swore..."

I just turned my body, pressing my way past the gathered crowd, not giving him the chance to think it through.

In the car, I stared out the back window, arms wrapped around myself.

"What did he say, honey?" Ray's voice was so gentle.

"He didn't recognize me. He thought he did, but once he got up close, I guess I look too different." My words were only a peg above a whisper.

"You going to be okay? I don't have to stay at Sean's."

I just wiped the stray tear off of my cheek. "It's fine. I'd rather be alone."

-

A long, scalding shower, two handfuls of shredded cheese, and a solid half-hour crying session later, I was laid catatonically on my bed, eyes staring at the screen as Grey's Anatomy flashed across my screen.

I had blanked my mind out, forcing myself to let the thoughts go for the night. I was too tired and broken to let my heart hurt like this again. It took a solid year to get over Noah enough that I was able to function again. My first year of med school was disappointing, and I didn't make any friends until I made it into the second year. It took me nearly three to start dating.

I couldn't do that again.

I had been ignoring the texts going off on my phone, assuming it was Ray just checking on me for the thousandth time. I did, however, decide to take a look when I heard my ringtone going off.

Who would be calling me at 2AM?

I didn't even bother checking the screen before I put the phone up to my ear, my voice hoarse from crying.

"Hello?"

"What are the odds that you haven't changed your number after all this time?"

I sat bolt upright, my voice catching in my throat. The voice on the other end sounded nearly as wrecked as mine.

"Noah?" It barely came out.

"It's been a long time."

I cleared the newly formed phlegm out of my throat. "It has."

"I knew that was you." It sounded deadly quiet in the background of his end of the line. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming tonight?"

I sighed. "Nick told you?"

"He might've."

I groaned. "Well, I asked him not to."

"Why?"

I scoffed. "What do you mean, why?" I rubbed my eyes. "We're not exactly speaking anymore, Noah."

He hummed. "That's true."

I chewed on my lip, not having any kind of clue of what to say.

"What did you think?"

"Of the show?"

"Mhm."

I sighed. "It was good. Different than what I would have expected."

A soft laugh came through the line. "How so?"

I smiled at that. "It's just a lot different than what I expected your music to sound like."

"In a bad way?"

"No. Not at all."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." His voice was so serious. So monotone. Nothing at all like what I remembered.

The line fell silent again, and I found this irritating. What was he playing at?

"Why did you call, Noah?"

I heard a breath on the other end, and some rustling. "I don't know."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't have."

"Maybe. I wanted to hear your voice."

My stomach tightened. "Now you have. I should go."

"Wait..." I held the phone firm, waiting. "I want to see you."

My heart pounded. "What?"

"I need to see you." His words were so matter-of-fact.

"I don't think so, Noah. That's not a great idea."

"It's not, but I'm asking..." He sounded so small. "Can I please see you?"

I perused the idea. "When?"

"Now?"

I scrunched up my face, sitting up again. "Now? It's after two in the morning."

"I don't care. I'll come to wherever you are."

This struck me. Maybe he hadn't changed?

"I, uh," I struggled to speak. "Noah, I don't know. I'm at home, it's late. I should be sleeping."

"Y/N?" I stopped, listening. "Please?"

I am a weak woman, and that is just plain fact. I was frantically running throughout the apartment, attempting to tidy any kind of mess I could get my hands on. Ray and I hadn't taken the time to really clean in months, so it was stressing me out. My pajama pants were hanging low on my hips, and I swam in my large sweatshirt.

My hair was falling loose around my face, and I was sure my eyes were puffy from the crying I had done. How insane was I? Had I completely lost it?

It was almost 3AM when a knock came at my apartment door, and I froze in place. What was I doing? Why was I allowing this to happen? I didn't need to do this to myself.

I was fine, living in my normal, tired bubble. I was headed towards a successful career that would take me further than I ever imagined. Why was I allowing this trainwreck of a friendship back into my life? What was I thinking?!

I wasn't. That was the answer to that question.

I opened the door, not sure what to expect on the other side. He stood, still as tall as I remembered, looming in the doorway. He wore a black hoodie, hands tucked neatly in the pocket. Dark blue jeans and black Converse. A white beanie covering his hair.

Like this, he looked almost recognizable. Except for his eyes...

Just like in the photograph I had seen earlier, his eyes were so dark. There was very little life behind them. Deep blue circles hung under the rims, making a pull in my chest show itself.

I just stood, blocking the doorway, hand white-knuckling the frame.

"Hi." Was all he managed. He was staring at me, eyes moving up and down my face as if he was seeing an apparition.

"Hi." I echoed, trying to not feel out of place under his stare.

"I'm glad you agreed to see me." He didn't move an inch, his jaw ticking closed with his last work.

I just nodded, letting out all of my air. "Yeah, well, you were insistent."

He nodded, finally looking away from me and down at the ground.

"I had to."

I pursed my lips, narrowing my eyes. "Did you?" He raised a brow at me. "Did you just have to see me? Because I think we probably would've been alright without it."

I could see his face fall, hurt by what I said, but I didn't care. He never did.

"I'm sorry. I know it's selfish."

"Mm," I pinched my lips together, and opened my door wider. "come in."

I stalked back into the house, not daring to look back at him. I heard the door shut behind me, and I steadied myself, expecting to turn around and see him vanished.

To my chagrin, he was still there.

Deciding not to stagnate, I walked into the kitchen, pulling a bottle of tea from the fridge, and walking back out to the living area. He hadn't moved, and was still staring at me.

"So." I motioned to him. "What can I do for you?"

Noah was so statuesque, as if carved right out of stone. "I don't really know."

My face lifted, a smirk on my lips. "You don't know? Noah," I placed a hand on my hip. "you show up here at 3AM, and you have no idea why?"

He shrugged, eyes begging me for mercy. "I'm sorry. I don't."

"Can you stop apologizing and just tell me why you're here?!" My patience snapped, startling even me.

This took him back, but instead of tucking tail and backing away, he stood straighter, face hardening.

"I can't tell you why I'm here if I don't know, alright?" His words were stern.

"Well you must have some kind of reason? Because this feels wildly unnecessary."

He raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "It is? So you didn't want to see me?"

I set my tea on the coffee table and stood nonchalantly. "Not really."

He narrowed his eyes. "I don't buy it." He took a step toward me, but I stood firm. "If you didn't you wouldn't have stayed, tonight. You would've left after you saw the band your friends went to see."

He was closer now, and it felt like a string had tethered between us, the tension slowly slacking.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to see your set. See how the band was doing."

He snickered at me. "Oh, sure. Of course." His hands finally appeared from his pockets, one running over his chin. "Which song was your favorite?"

Oop. I wasn't expecting that.

"The second one. Villain, or something?"

He nodded. "Like A Villain." Noah's eyes weren't buying it. "Which one did you like least?"

I scoffed. "I don't know, Noah? The first one?"

"Mm, and which one was that?"

I was swallowing the lump in my throat. I couldn't remember, the night blurring together.

"Uh, I don't know the name."

He took a step back, triumphant. "You weren't there for the set. You wanted to see me."

Rolling my eyes, I crossed my arms. "Still as self-absorbed as ever, I see?"

"Am I wrong?"

He had me backed into a corner, and he fucking knew it.

I threw my arms up. "Fine! Maybe I did. But you wanted to see me too."

He sneered at me, venom on his lips. "Obviously, or else I wouldn't be here."

"You still haven't said why."

"Why did you want to see me?"

My voice was raising, frustration growing. "I don't know!"

"I don't know either!" He yelled back at me, and my mouth snapped closed. Noah never raised his voice at me. Not ever.

He took three long strides over to me until he was only stood a foot away.

"I didn't expect to ever see you again, Y/N! I thought you were gone forever! So imagine my surprise when I see you walking out of the House of Blues, and you deny even knowing me!"

I felt like shrinking into a ball right there on the floor, ceasing to exist.

"I wanted to see you because how could I not?! Seven fucking years, Y/N!" He backed down for a second, his breathing becoming ragged. "I've been waiting seven years."

I furrowed my brow. "Waiting?"

"For you to reach out. To tell me you missed me. To give me some kind of indication we could reconcile and be us again."

There was a fire, deep down in my gut, that I had never been able to truly extinguish. A fire Noah had lit years ago. A mine shaft burning like the depths of hell in my belly that I had buried under concrete and therapy, keeping it at bay.

In my apartment, tonight, that fire broke loose. And there was no stopping it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I took a step forward, pressing into his space, index finger jabbing into his chest. "I was supposed to reach out?!"

He took a step back, eyes now full of fear.

"I professed my love to you, Noah! I told you I wanted you, and you fucking left!"

He puffed at me, pointing a finger back at me. "You told me to leave!'

"Yes! Because you told me you didn't love me! You told me you couldn't love me the way I loved you!"

He squeezed his lids shut tight, growling and turning away from me, taking several steps away. His hands came up, gripping the beanie on his head.

"God damn it Y/N!" He turned to look at me, a fiery rage matching my own behind his eyes. "Of course I fucking loved you!"

My heart stopped, completely motionless.

"What?"

"I've always loved you! From the moment I laid fucking eyes on you! I've never loved anyone, no one, the way I loved you!" He charged me, backing me toward the couch. "But I couldn't love you, Y/N! I wasn't good enough. I was a piss-poor high school dropout musician trying to make a name for himself, and, until recently, failing miserably."

I couldn't speak, thoughts racing so fast, I struggled to keep up.

"And you?" He pointed a finger back into my chest. "You were smart, and motivated, and you were going to make something of yourself. I couldn't drag you down with me. I couldn't force you to follow this journey with me. It would've ruined your life!"

My lungs weren't working right, and my hands were shaking. He wasn't actually saying this. I was hallucinating.

"So I left. I left to give you a chance at a real life. Which, evidently, you've managed to build without me." He took a step back, then, dropping his hands. "And I, somehow, without you."

This hurt me, hearing he had managed to become so successful, despite my involvement.

"Noah, I had no idea-"

"No," He cut me off. "you didn't."

I hadn't even caught the tears falling from my eyes, blurring my vision until he was just a watery mess in front of me.

"You didn't need me." I choked out, and he looked directly at me, inquisitively. "You've made it so far. You're a rockstar now, Noah."

He scoffed. "Y/N, you don't get it." He looked away from me, focused on the wall behind me. "I died without you. Something inside of me was lost the day I left, and I never got it back."

"Well, you're successful now, so it can't be so bad, right?"

He snorted, shaking his head. "Success always comes with a price."

My lips were wet with the tears I couldn't hold in, and I couldn't keep my breathing even. I knew he saw it, but hesitated to engage, wanting to keep a wide berth between us. I couldn't take it. It was too much.

Hearing he loved me. Hearing I had been wrong all this time. Hearing that the heartbreak I felt for so long wasn't his fault. He was protecting me, even after all these years.

"Noah?" He chanced a glance at me, and I saw his own eyes sparkling with moisture.

I couldn't take it.

I rushed him, grabbing hold of his shoulder and clinging on, desperate to find relief against him. My lips smashed into his, tearing apart the barrier I had worked so hard to build.

His hands grabbed me, holding me into place against him, his lips melted into mine, returning the kiss fervently. We were hopeless. We were hungry.

My tears didn't stop flowing, emotion pouring out of every pore. My fingers clawed at him, needing to get closer. My hand grabbed the beanie, and pulled it off of his head, his dark hair falling over his eyes. I gripped it at the scalp, trying to pull myself closer.

Feeling what I was attempting to do, his hands lifted me by the back of my legs, so I could wrap them around his midsection. I refused to disconnect the kiss, breathing in his soul. It was so real and so familiar. How I missed it like hell.

His legs carried us to the couch, where he sat us down. My legs straddled him, and I finally pulled away to tug at the sweatshirt he wore. He made quick work of pulling it up over his head while I did the same with my own. Reconnecting our lips, my hands wandered over his neck and chest, scratching at the fabric of his shirt.

His teeth caught my bottom lip, and I moaned into his mouth. His fingers pulled at the waistband of my pajama pants, and I lifted myself enough to slip them off, replacing myself on his lap. His jeans were already getting tighter as his hands smoothed up and down my thighs.

"Fucking hell." He looked down, staring at my bare breasts in front of him. "These got bigger, huh?"

I laughed, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, well, things change."

His fingers gripped around my left breast, lips falling to circle around the hardened nipple. I let my head fall back, relishing in the warm feeling spreading throughout my body.

"Still so fucking beautiful, just like I remember." I pulled at the hair on the back of his neck. "Did you miss me, baby girl?"

I ground my hips down against him in response. His hand began playing with the button of his jeans, and I moved it away to open them myself.

I stood up to pull his jeans down to his knees, his boxers bulging in the crotch.

"Oh, fuck." I sighed out. "Yeah, I missed you."

His smile then was devious, some of that regular spark shining back in his eyes. "Then show me, huh?"

Reaching into the opening of his underwear, I pulled his cock free, taking a moment to remember just how large it was. It had been a very long time since I had seen anything quite that impressive. Dipping my head down, I licked a long stripe up the shaft, lingering on the head to gather the precome leaking out.

"Holy shit." His head fell back on the couch, his eyes rolling back with it. "Mm, do that again, please?"

I smirked, looking up at him. "Only since you asked so nicely."

My tongue repeated the movement, drawing out a hard groan out of him, his legs twitching. "Fuck yeah, baby."

Without warning, I wrapped my lips around him and swallowed him as far down as my throat would allow, gagging on the tip as it struck my tonsils. His hips jolted upward, effectively fucking my throat.

"Please, Y/N, I won't last that way." He begged, his words only coming out as breaths. "I need to feel you, please."

He was begging, and I couldn't resist it. I needed him too.

I stood back up, and kneeled on either side of him, carefully lining him up with my entrance. When I sunk down, that delicious burn pierced through me, and my body collapsed onto him at the intensity of it.

"Noah, oh my God." He ran a hand up my back, allowing me a moment to adjust.

"I know, baby. I know." He soothed me, rubbing small circles into my skin.

My hips stuttered forward, needing to feel the friction. His hand reached down to grab my ass, and lifted me upward. Without warning, his hips snapped forward and fucked into me, making a sharp scream leave my lips.

My face rested on his chest, whimpers falling from my throat with each hard thrust.

"Fuck, you missed me, pretty girl?" He was panting between his words, his rhythm picking up speed. "Missed the way I fuck you?"

My eyes were rolling back, the tears from before now replaced with tears of raw pleasure.

"I'll bet you've never been fucked like this, huh?" His words were just tones of desire playing in my ears, his cock absolutely destroying me. "No one can fuck you like I can, baby. No one."

My nails dug hard into his shirt, begging for release.

"Let me know when you come, baby. Not finishing until you do."

Luckily for him, I was riding the edge so hard it was making the room spin. Biting my lip to keep from screaming, I lifted myself to look at his face.

"Noah," I searched his eyes, his hips not faltering. "I love you."

He grit his teeth, trying to focus on me and his hips at the same time. "I love you, too. So fucking much."

My face fell back down, landing on the side of his neck. "I'm going to come. Please, Noah, I'm so close..."

He, somehow, managed to pump into me harder, sending my body over the cliff and into the warm waves of my orgasm. My body went slack against him as my walls pulsed around his length.

I heard him curse, and his hips stilled. I felt him spasming inside me, and silently thanked myself for my IUD.

We laid that way, sweaty and heaving, for a solid ten minutes before either of us could find the strength to move. I slipped him out of me, and sat up to look at him. He looked absolutely wrecked, in the best possible way.

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread over me.

"Hi." Was all I could manage.

He chuckled tiredly. "Hi."

-

After our excursion, Noah and I had taken a few minutes to clean up, and, being as exhausted as you'd expect, decided to lay together for a while.

He told me he had to leave within a few hours to get back to his hotel, heading to the next city bright and early, so I told him I'd stay up until he had to leave.

However, in my bed, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his voice whispering sweet words in my ears, I struggled to remain conscious.

"Do you remember when I bought you that Oasis album for your fourteenth birthday? That was basically me professing my love to you."

"I was such an idiot. I should've just told you."

"You have no idea how much I've missed you. I don't think you'll ever understand."

"I'm so sorry. I wish things were different..."

And that's how I woke up, light in my bedroom far too bright, and my bed empty.

I don't know what I expected? For him to stay? Fuck off his tour to make up for lost time with me?

But still, my chest stung when I saw he had left, but I wasn't surprised.

Something had changed last night, and the darkness that lingered in the depths of my being had lifted, leaving me with a sense of hope I hadn't felt before.

When I had woken for the day, clearing the cobwebs from my eyes, I contemplated my next move. He had surely left town already, but that didn't mean I couldn't keep in touch, right?

Pulling out my phone, I found his contact, and opened a text thread.

Me: Hey, call me when you can. I think we have a lot to talk about. :)

I set my phone down on the bathroom counter, preparing to brush my teeth when my phone dinged, and the notification told me the text had failed.

Odd?

I resent it, getting the same response.

Why would my messages fail? I paid my bill, right?

Quickly dialing Ray's number, I held the phone to my ear and heard the ringing, so I knew my service was fine. Giving her a quick apology for waking her, I hung up, and went back to my texts.

His number was the same, right?

I went back to my call logs, seeing it was his number that called me last night, so it was the same as it had always been.

So...what the hell?

My finger hovered over the number for a moment, and I weighed the options before finally resolving to just call him. Make sure I wasn't losing my mind.

I held the phone to my face as I started brushing my teeth, waiting for the call to connect.

"The number you have reached is not in service. If you feel you have reached this message in error, please hang up and try your call again."

[reallyromealone]

Bakugo x kirishima omegaverse adoption. Request is meeting bakugos parents or just his dad per se. like his dad really wants to meet his grandbaby and he doesn’t care about what his wife says because he’s going to meet his grandbaby wether she likes it or not.

Title: see you again

Fandom: bnha

Characters: bakugo, masaru, mitsuki, kirishima, Aizawa mentioned

Fic type: angst, fluff

Pairings: bakugo x Kirishima, masaru x mitsuki

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, child male reader, Omega male reader, alpha x alpha relationship, dad kiribaku

Notes: writing this before my shift

Summary: katsukis dad gets to meet the baby, mitsuki has an epiphany

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bakugo read the letter his dad sent, the Omega was absolutely thrilled with the pictures of the baby that Aizawa sent him, Aizawa knew how hard it was to get out of a marriage as an Omega and kept the man up to date via coffee meet ups.

And today, Mr. Bakugo was going to meet his grandson.

"I can't face him." Mitsuki whispered, the Alpha looking away from her Omega "well I am, I'm tired of you're tantrums! You made me lose out on my pups most important years! I had to miss his graduation!"

Masaru looked so broken "I let you walk over me... I love you but you need therapy... I-I can't do this"

"I-im sorry" it was rare to see the blond so meek "think about the fact, you missed your son's wedding, his son and his life because you were set in his ways" his words trembling "I know you love our son... Talk to him"

And with that the Omega left the house.

Katsuki felt his heart feel a bit warmer when he saw his dam, (name) sitting in kirishimas knee and playing with his fingers happily and suckling on his pacifier that looked like a little explosion "dad..." Katsuki stood up to properly greet his dam, having not seen him in a year and a half, only exchanging letters through Aizawa. "There's my precious little boy and my other precious boy... And whose this" immediately the soft man doted on the two before his eyes landed on (name) who leaned against his dad, staring at the Omega confused. Masaru got closer to the pup and crouched "hi... I'm your grandpa" he whispered and (name) reached out to him, the little baby having no loyalty when it comes to attention and the older Omega smelt like his papa so therefore safe in the little ones eyes.

"Gosh, he's so perfect" he whispered while holding the angel of a baby close "poepoepoe" the boy babbled, having taken his pacifier out of his mouth.

Katsuki felt pure happiness bubble in his chest, seeing his dad show the love he showed Katsuki when he was little "you are so brave!" The Brunet whispered to the baby, enamoured by the pure joy the little omega gave back at the attention and tickles his grandpa gave.

"So how's things dad..." Katsuki was surprisingly soft with his dad, knowing the omega was always the nervous type "it's better... Your mother and I actually spoken before I left today"

"Oh?"

"And I won"

The table grew quiet and Kirishima was the first to speak "I'm proud of you!"

X

She couldn't believe it.

Her mate.

Her omega.

Her life...

He just lost it on her, she really fucked this up, huh?

She sat alone in the sitting area for hours, tears rolling down her face.

She had a grand baby...

She remembered how happy she was when she held little Katsuki...

She didn't want to ever say goodbye to that memory.

She couldn't dare possibly say goodbye to the music in her life, the music being the love of her family.

She needed to get it together.

Looking around the house, a nice house with beautiful decorations...

She would give it all up if she could take what she said back.

But she knew it wouldn't be easy.

X

"Her pride-- it was always something that got in the way, I know she regrets what she did... God knows when she will admit her faults" masaru said calmly and handed (name) back to Katsuki when the boy reached over to the blond for cuddle time "i-I don't think I could forgive her for what she did" Katsuki said honestly, time did his temper well.

And after having a son, a wonderful beautiful baby boy.

He couldn't imagine doing something like that to his baby.

What parent could do that?

The rest of the lunch went smoothly, Masaru doting on his son and son and law while (name) slept in his stroller without a care.

It was late, Eijiro sleeping beside him and (name) was asleep in his crib across the hall and thoughts of the meeting pushed around katsukis brain.

His mom abandoned him.

Come morning, the two alphas did their morning stretches in the livingroom, (name) clumsily following along much to the parents amusement and delight "good form!" Eijiro cheered to the boys delight.

Katsuki focused on his son, his world.

His mom could wait.

Just like he waited for her.

[matthewtkachuk]

bad at love

Breaking your brother's only unspoken rule—don't date his teammates—has never been an issue in your adult life. Until now.

pairing: jt compher x reader

warnings: angstttt, smut, a minor car accident with mentions of injury (broken bone/concussion), and the usual (alcohol, swearing, etc. etc.)

word count: 4.9k

a/n: hiiiiii @comphy-and-cozy i'm your super secret fic exchange writer! sorry this is a day late and a dollar short. one of these days @wyattjohnston is going to perma-ban me from participating in exchanges. until that date she remains my ever loyal editor. mad thanks to @thomasschabot for reading it first and telling me they loved it even though they're contractually obligated to do so and for physically being there when the fic idea popped into my head <3

It’s not the first time you’ve shown up at your big brother’s house with a face full of tears and a couple bags full of all your worldly possessions. Despite your best efforts and well intentions—if you had to guess—it likely won’t be the last. 

It is the first time you’ve done so with him being a married man, and so it’s your sister-in-law whose comfort you really seek and are expecting to pop up behind the slowly opening door in front of you. 

Unfortunately for you, and for the poor soul you really don’t know that well, it’s not Kenzy who opens the door but the over-the-summer pick-up from Colorado. 

If it had been any of the other, more tenured of your brother's teammates, you might have been waved inside with nothing more than a sympathetic glance and an unspoken ‘again?’. 

Instead, JT’s look of utter confusion has quickly evolved into something more akin to a quiet rage, and you’re reminded that he is a big brother himself. The look is familiar to you, having inspired a similar one on Dylan’s face more times than you can count. 

It’s been a really fucking long day, and you don’t have the emotional bandwidth to have any sort of reckoning with some guy you barely know in your brothers drive way. 

JT’s in the middle of some sort of sentence that begins and also ends with “What—” as you none too gently push past him in order to finally gain entry to the house. 

The mix of sympathy and feigned disinterest that greets you on the faces of your brothers teammates who occupy the large sitting room has your stomach rolling uncomfortably. It seemed like the entirety of the Detroit Red Wings were always around to witness your spectacular failures. What must they think, watching you disappear with the next great love of your life, only to reappear once again with bags packed in a manner of months?

You could hazard a guess at what your brother thinks, the variants of ‘I told you so’ that live and die on his tongue without ever leaving his lips. He wraps you up in an infamous Larkin hug that serves to fix a tiny crack of your broken heart, and so you revel in it like you used to revel in the comfort when the pain you felt was because of falling off the monkey bars when you were a kid. 

But, he has a house full of hockey players to entertain and Kenzy has a glass of wine with your name on it. Dylan returns to the living room and you slide out to the back porch with your sister-in-law, briefly catching the eye of the one who let you in. You don’t see the telltale signs of judgment reflecting back at you, but maybe something else entirely. 

Outside you pour your soul alongside the Malbec. Curled up on the wicker chair under a blanket you tell Kenzy about Owen and the promises he failed to keep. She oohs and ahs at the appropriate times, commiserating without belittling you. 

By the end of the night your heart—and the bottle of wine—feels a little lighter. There’s a little less shame as you make yourself at home in the spare bedroom that might as well permanently be yours. 

Owen visits you in your sleep, breaking your heart again and again until his face morphs into one with a ginger beard and kind eyes. 

-

Those kind eyes become a fixture in your post breakup life. If he’s not hanging around your brother's house, he’s bumping into you at the local coffee shop you frequent when you’re in Detroit. If he’s at neither, he’s obviously at the games you attend in support of Dylan alongside Kenzy. 

At Dylan’s, you barely speak to his teammates and friends beyond simple pleasantries. At your coffee shop, it starts at small talk but grows to be considerable conversations that dip just below surface level. 

It’s at Little Caesars Arena where he really endears himself to you though. Warm ups are arguably your favorite part of the games you attend. You like to look out at the signs, from the heartwarming to the obscene—picking out your favorites and giggling about the latter with your sister in law. 

Dylan’s always been really good about tossing kids pucks, and his big bleeding heart only grew larger when he got the red C strapped to his chest. Some of the other guys, even some of the so-called vets are less good about it. 

JT’s just like Dylan, maybe even a little kinder hearted. He takes the time to read the signs that are meant for him, never turns down a trade for a puck and even gives a stick to a kid whose sign says he came all the way from Denver to watch him, his favorite player, play in Detroit. 

It warms your heart. 

So much so you don’t even notice you’re staring until Dylan’s slamming himself into the boards in front of you to startle his wife. She rolls her eyes and calls him a name not worth repeating while you try to pretend like you weren’t just fixated on his teammate. 

The thing is Dylan has never outright said his teammates are off limits. Not since you were a teenager making eyes at his USNTDP teammates anyway. 

The memory keeps you from looking JT’s way the rest of the warmups, but once the puck drops your eyes can’t help but wander. 

-

Wandering appears to be your specialty, considering you’ve gotten yourself lost in the underbelly of the arena. 

Your first mistake was leaving Ken’s side—she was your ferryman, guiding you down the River Styx, and without her, you were lost in Hell. 

Were you overdramatic? Maybe. Were you lost with no hope of getting out? Still overdramatic, but definitely a possibility. 

The walls begin to look the same, and you’re half worried you’ve accidentally fallen into a back room or something stupid when you stumble upon the one who caught your eye earlier. 

‘Stumble upon’ is a gracious way of saying you absolutely smack into him and fall on your ass. 

He hauls you up effortlessly with one hand and your skin burns beneath his grasp. 

“What are you doing?” you both say in near unison before he laughs. 

“I was getting my shoulder checked out, what are you doing all the way over here? Are you lost?”

Regardless of what he was doing, JT obviously has more of a reason to be found wandering the halls of the arena. And he’s right, you’re most definitely lost but you play it off like he’s crazy. 

“Me? Lost? No, I know exactly where we are,” you bluff. 

JT’s eyebrows raise and he nods slowly. “Which is…?”

Well, he’s called your bluff but he also gave you a key context clue. “Near the athletic trainer, obviously.” 

He laughs again and it has your cheeks feeling hot. 

“Okay fine, maybe I’m a little bit lost and maybe I was contemplating how I’d be trapped down here forever before you knocked me over.”

“I’m sorry, but you ran into me.” You roll your eyes and begin to argue, but he doesn’t let that happen. “Doesn’t matter, I can help you find your way out.”

You swoon dramatically, only half joking as you reply “My hero.”

Now that you’re no longer focused on navigating your way out of Pan’s Labyrinth, you’re free to focus on your close proximity to JT. Based on the way his eyes dart between meeting your own and staring at your lips, you assume he’s just as aware.

Is this not what you’ve been wanting since you knocked on Dylan’s door? But that’s part of the problem, and you’re sure JT is thinking the same. Not only is your brother his teammate—and you’ve always been off limits to your brother's teammates to your chagrin growing up—but he’s JT’s captain, too. There’s a million ways this thing could go wrong and blow up in both of your faces. 

You could get caught, and be forced to sit with Dyl’s disappointment. You could hurt the one person in your life who consistently showed up for you and loved you and cared for you. 

Not to mention you could risk it all for nothing—could crash and burn spectacularly as you were wont to do. Could fuck it all up with not only your brother, but JT too and be left with nothing. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gone behind your brother’s back, but you had a sneaking suspicion things would be worse than they were when you were 15 to his 16. 

Ultimately you decide fuck it, because what’s life without a little risk?

Tentatively, you slide your hand over the rough beard covering his jaw. When he doesn’t flinch or move away from you, you lean in closer. 

He’s not pulling away, but he’s also not moving closer, letting you make the first move. 

It’s probably a terrible fucking idea, but you’ve never been accused of being someone who makes good decisions when it comes to romantic partners. 

The first press of your lips to his is cautious, barely a brushing of your mouths, just to get a taste. Quickly you become a woman obsessed. Unable to get enough, the kisses turn frenetic, bordering on sloppy. 

He reciprocates in kind, his mouth hot and heavy on yours while his hands grasp and pull and hold. His very essence consumes you, taking over all of your five senses and pulling noises from you that you didn’t know existed. 

If your arm burned from his grasp earlier, your entire body has caught fire. 

You’re unaware or probably more accurately uncaring of your public nature, despite your earlier hesitance. Now you just want more and more and more of JT, as much as he is willing to give and maybe even a little more. 

He seems to be on the same page, entire body wrapping around you and pulling you deeper and deeper. 

Unconsciously your hands begin to pull at the waistband of his pants and it’s then that the two of you finally separate. 

You’re worried you’re going to find regret in his eyes and excuses on his tongue, but he’s just looking at you intently. 

“Not like this,” he says. “Not here.”

“I don’t want to wait,” you protest, but he shushes you with his mouth. 

“It’ll be worth the wait.” 

And worth the wait it is. 

-

It's sexy at first. Clandestine meetings in dark hallways, sneaking in and out of JT’s apartment that’s on the same floor as Jake Walman’s, covert texts and quiet phone calls where you get off on the sound of each other's voices. 

It doesn’t take long for you to want more, though. To fantasize about not just what his calloused hands can do to your body, but what it would be like to hold one in your own while walking down the street. To show up at a home game and have everyone know you were there to support not only your brother, but JT too. 

It’s a fantasy that is only stoked by the comfort you feel walking around JT’s apartment in just his t-shirt with his number on the shoulder. By nights spent together at his dinner table, on his couch, in his bed. By sweet texts and stupid memes and random photos of things that made him think of you. 

You don’t dare speak your desires out loud though. For fear of JT not wanting the same thing or for fear that he would, you’re not quite sure. 

It’s a tough situation to be in. One where you’re worried you're heading to a fork in the road that has JT on one side and your brother on the other. 

You have no delusions about the two paths eventually forging back together again, know that you’ve come dangerously close to that intersection marked with a big fat caution sign. 

Probably you should speak to JT, get on the same page about where you’ve been and where you’re going. Following that, assuming he secretly yearns for the same thing you do, you should probably then come clean to Dylan. 

Probably you should do a lot of things, but unfortunately what is done in the dark always comes to the light and sometimes it happens quicker than you can make your mind up. 

-

A road win presumably has JT in a good mood. He’s texted you letting you know he’ll be home before midnight, requesting your presence in his bed. 

It’s an easy yes, considering you’re already in the aforementioned bed. It’s nice to get out of Dylan’s house, of the suffocating feeling that you’re intruding in someone else’s home, on someone else’s life. 

There’s really nothing particularly sexy about the way he finds you, but his eyes darken upon finding you curled up in his bed just the same. You’re not attempting to recreate a sexy pose from a boudoir photo shoot, and one of JT’s shirts and a pair of boy shorts aren’t exactly fancy lingerie. 

That doesn’t stop him from dropping his bag dramatically and stripping from his dress shirt and pants. 

“Awfully presumptuous,” you say as if the very fact that you’re in his bed in not much more clothing than he is. 

He shrugs, “Not presuming anything. I’m fine if you just want to sleep, but I’m sure as shit not going to sleep in those dress pants. Bad enough I had to sit through a plane ride like that.”

His tone is teasing, but the implication that he would be just as fine falling asleep beside you as anything else pretty well takes all the fight out of you. 

“C’mere,” you say instead of a catchy comeback, lifting the covers and inviting him into his own bed. 

He wastes no time sliding in beside you and curling up around your body. “Hi.”

You snort and hide your face in his neck. “Corny.”

“I’ll show you corny,” he says, but you shush him by pulling his face closer to yours until your lips brush. 

“Thought I was presumptuous,” he says upon breaking the kiss. 

You roll your eyes—“Shut up.”—and kiss him again. 

He doesn’t manage to keep his mouth shut, but at least this time it’s to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

The temperature of the room rapidly increases—between the weight of his body covering your own and your body’s reaction to his fervid kiss, you feel the need to lose at least one item of clothing. 

“I need—“

Luckily he quickly understands what you’re trying to accomplish by pulling at the hem of your shirt, lifting off of you long enough to assist in removing it from your body. 

He makes a noise of appreciation at the bare skin revealed to him before diving back into your lips, this time with one hand cupping your right breast. 

Appreciative noises of your own build in your throat when that hand slides down your body to dip into your underwear. It’s teasing touches at first, until you reciprocate by cupping him through his boxer-briefs. 

Finally you both shed that last remaining layer, uncaring of where they end up in the bedroom. There’s a brief pause while he rolls on a condom and then he’s entering your body like it was made for him and him alone. 

There’s no rush about his pace, just gentle thrusts and soft moans and sweet praises. 

Sex with JT is so good, better than with anyone else you’ve ever been with. He’s the very opposite of a lazy, selfish lover. It’s like your needs and your pleasure come first, and you certainly do too. 

The positioning of your bodies is so intimate, bodies close, mouths slotted over each other with intermingling breaths. 

You worry you’re getting too caught up in that intimacy, possibly running in a direction not quite warranted and so you seek to depersonalize it a touch. 

“Let me,” you say softly while gently pressing a hand against his shoulder, indicating you want him to lay on his back. He moves willingly, even helping you climb atop him. 

It feels just as good with you on top, and the bit of distance between your upper halves means you can breathe a bit better. 

It’s easy to get lost in the feeling, to tilt your head back and focus on your movements and the feel of his bruising grip on your hips. 

Feeling the pressure build in your stomach, you slide a hand down your abdomen to where your bodies meet while the other grasps your breast just for something to hold on to. The added friction to your clit is pulling you closer and closer as you move on top of him. 

He’s staring up at you with lust filled eyes, mouth open in a mix of awe and pleasure. A look of almost disbelief on his face. His hands are still on your hips, now helping the movement of your body on his when your body lights up like the fourth of July with your orgasm. 

It’s hard to keep moving while in the throes of pleasure, but it’s like JT can read your mind, gripping your hips and thrusting up into you until he finishes too. 

Your whole body tingles as you collapse on top of him, relishing in the feel of his arms wrapping around your body. Leisurely you kiss for a minute, until your heart rate returns to normal and you feel like you’re not likely to fall over when going to the bathroom to clean up. 

When you return, you’ve slipped on one of his shirts once again. There's a soft look on his face as you crawl into bed beside him. It only cracks when you quietly whisper, “should we order pizza?”

“I think you’re the girl of my dreams,” he laughs. 

The room is quiet, filled with only the sounds of your breathing and occasional kissing as you wait for the delivery. 

Finally the doorbell rings. “I got it,” you tell JT and pull on a pair of discarded sweatpants before pulling the drawstring so they don’t fall. 

You don’t bother to check the peephole, certain it’s your food which turns out to be a giant mistake. 

Not only is it not your pizza, it’s also the last person you want to catch you with sex hair in oversized clothing that obviously belongs to the guy you’ve just had sex with. 

Dylan’s mouth has dropped so far down it would be comical if it wasn’t also horrifying. 

“Dylan I–” you start to explain yourself but pause midway through. How could you even begin to explain?

“I can’t believe this.” He shakes his head, hands curling at his side. “Actually no, I can’t believe this from JT, I can definitely believe this from you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you snap. 

Your brother laughs sardonically, “Well you’re not exactly known for making the right decisions when it comes to relationships.”

JT exits his room, no doubt lured by the loud voices and the lack of food. “Hey man, come on, let's talk about this like adults.”

“Like adults?” Dylan is incensed in a way you’ve never seen before. “Now you want to talk about things like adults? The time to talk was before you started sleeping with my sister behind my back.”

“I’m sorry you found out like this–” JT continues to try to defend himself, defend you while you stand there speechless. 

Dylan interrupts, “Sorry I found out or sorry you got caught?”

JT goes to respond but Dylan cuts him off again. “I trusted you dude. I told you she was off limits, and not only did you ignore me, you went behind my back.” He then turns to you. “And you? My teammate? Seriously? You couldn’t have chosen literally any other douchebag to treat you wrong?”

That snaps you out of your stupor. “JT doesn’t treat me bad!”

A different kind of look crosses your older brother's face then. “Well when he does, don’t come running back to my house and crying to me.” 

Dylan slams the door and you sit in the quiet of the room for a minute with your ears ringing. 

The reality of the situation hits you. 

“I can’t stay there, God not only am I a fuck up but I’m homeless too.”

“You can always stay here,” JT offers and it really bothers you that you can’t tell if he wants you to, or if he’s just offering because of his hand in the most recent blow up of your life. 

“I’m pretty sure his baby sister shacking up with his teammate he doesn’t want her with isn’t exactly going to win me any favors with Dyl,” you reply. 

“Well I’m pretty sure he’d rather you be here than living on the street.”

Ordinarily you think that would probably be true but the look on his face when you opened JT’s door is seared into your mind. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

-

In the end you do move your things into JT’s apartment. Kenzy is the accomplice to your crime, helping you pack your things while the team has practice, wrapping you in her arms and telling you that he just needs some time. 

“He loves you,” she says. 

You’re not so sure. 

That’s probably overdramatic. You’re sure he loves you, and you sure hope he forgives you. You’re just worried that this time you’ve both done and said things you can’t take back and you’re not sure how things will move forward from here. 

It’s not all bad though. 

Living with JT is surprisingly easy, even right one might say. You fit directly into each other's lives like perfect puzzle pieces. His strict routines of practices and morning skates and games—both home and away—allow you the space to complete your own work on your own time. Cooking pregame meals together and curling up beside him when he takes his pregame naps quickly become some of your favorite activities. 

You dance around the feelings talk, never quite broaching the subject. But it can’t feel this right if it’s all one sided, all in your head, right?

He’s even kind enough to let you drive his SUV even though the price tag makes you nervous every time you’re behind the wheel. You’re not a bad driver, as evidenced by the fact JT lets you drive the Audi, but you are possibly on this side of over cautious as a result of a bad car accident in high school. 

Three home games after your fight with Dylan and approximately zero words or text messages exchanged between the two of you, you find yourself in the passenger seat. 

“I could have taken the bus,” you protest weakly, almost knowing exactly what JT’s response will be. 

“Over my dead body,” he laughs, eyes flickering over to you before focusing on the traffic in front of him. “Just pick me up after practice or text me if you’re still out and I’ll find a ride.” 

“I’m not gonna leave you stranded at the arena, of course I’ll be there after you’re done.” 

It’s oddly domestic, kissing JT across the console and then sliding into the driver’s seat that he vacates. You wait as he grabs his gear and walks away, you do really love watching him walk away. 

The moment is cut short by catching a glimpse of your brother's vehicle. He’s not in it, obviously already inside the arena, but the sight of it makes your stomach clench all the same. 

Thoughts of Dylan and his disappointment and worry that he’ll never forgive you flood your mind the entire drive. So much so that when the next light turns green, you let off the gas without realizing that there is a larger SUV running the red. 

It all happens so fast. The screeching of tires, the crunching of metal, the pop of airbags going off and then a blinding pain in your wrist. 

In the end, you’re pushed into the wrong lane of traffic, the other vehicle damn near in the passenger seat you occupied only fifteen minutes ago. There’s a distinct ringing in your ears and you offhandedly wonder if this is what it feels like to get boarded. 

“Are you okay? I’m calling 911.” The words sound like they’re underwater, and it takes you several seconds to realize they’re being spoken to you. Turning your head to the side, you try to get the words out to say you’re fine, but you’re blocked by the airbag that has gone off near your head. 

Emergency services come quickly, a perk of living in Detroit you suppose. Embarrassingly, it takes the jaws of life to peel off the driver's side door to get you out. A cop takes your statement and then you end up in the back of an ambulance. Despite your assurances that you’re fine, one raised eyebrow from the female paramedic and the idea that you’ve probably broken your wrist has you agreeing to the ER visit. 

It’s then that someone asks you if there’s anyone you want to call. Heartbreakingly, your first thought is Dylan and your second thought is you’re not sure he’ll pick up. 

Your third thought is JT and his SUV that you’ve probably totaled. 

One of the paramedics helps you dial the equipment manager’s number, the one you were instructed to only ever use in case of emergencies. If ever there was a reason…

When he picks up the phone, you have to explain that you’ve gotten into a tiny fender bender and if you could please speak with JT and yes I mean JT not Dylan. 

“Are you okay?” JT all but demands when he picks up the phone. 

“I’m totally fine,” you fib, and then concede based on that same female paramedic once again raising an eyebrow. “Okay so I might have broken my wrist but–”

“Which hospital are you going to?” he interrupts. 

You tell him, but try to say, “It’s okay you don’t have to–”

He interrupts again, “I’ll be right there.”

He hangs up quicker than you can ask how he’s going to get there without the car that you’ve wrecked. 

True to his word, he’s sitting on a chair in your hospital room when you return from getting an x-ray. He stands abruptly upon your entrance and takes the three strides to stand in front of you before hesitating, like you’re made of glass. 

You take matters into your own hands and slide your good arm around his back, careful to not jostle your injured wrist. There's a slight tremor to his body that you feel run through yours. 

“I’m okay,” you say comfortingly, rubbing your good hand along his back before pausing. “Your car though….”

The tears are already starting to pool in your waterline as he pulls back. 

His hands slide to cup your jaw as he speaks seriously, “I don’t give a damn about the car. It can be replaced, you can’t.” A tear slips out before you can stop it and he brushes it away with his thumb before kissing you softly. “I care about you. So much. And that phone call scared the shit out of me.”

Despite the less than stellar background and circumstances, his words have your heart leaping in your chest. “I really care about you too,” you whisper and kiss him again. 

“Where is she?” you hear coming down the hall and it occurs to you that your brother is still your emergency contact. 

“Did you tell him?” you ask JT who promptly shakes his head. 

You don’t even have time to step back from JT’s embrace before Dylan comes crashing into the room. JT wisely pulls away and gives Dylan the space to place his hands on your shoulders and scan for any signs of injury. 

“I’m okay,” you reassure him but the words feel hollow considering they’re the first you’ve said to him in more than a week. “Broken wrist they’re gonna cast and probably a concussion. Can’t say the same for the car.”

Eerily similar to JT, Dylan replies, “Cars can be replaced–”

“But I can’t,” you say in unison with him. “I know, JT said the same thing.” 

It’s like Dylan remembers his teammate then, eyes sliding over to where JT stands and then back down to your slowly purpling wrist. 

The room is silent except for the sounds of medical equipment and the faint sounds occurring outside the door. 

“I’m sorry,” you say in unison with your brother again. 

“No, I'm sorry,” he says first. “I’m your big brother and I’ve seen you get your heart broken too many times. I’m always going to worry about you but I was out of line.”

“I’m sorry we went behind your backs and I’m sorry you found out that way. We should have just talked to you, I should have just talked to you.” 

“Truce?” he asks, like you’re 10 and 11 again, fighting over something silly and trivial. 

“Truce,” you confirm, hissing when you knock your broken wrist as you pull him in for a hug. 

Later, when you’ve gotten over the guilt of totaling JT’s barely used Audi and the cast on your wrist is long gone,  it’ll be a fun story to tell at parties. About how it took an idiot running a red light for you to define your relationship with JT and to reconcile with your brother. 

[strixcattus]

I really enjoy looking at this still from Slay the Princess:

In the midst of all the weird imagery from the first part of the Stranger route, you see for a moment—and it is cut off at the end, so I had to be quick with my screenshot—every route laid out in front of you, paired up as the game does elsewhere, and described, interestingly enough, from what I can only believe is the Voices' perspectives, or perhaps the relationship between the Princess and the Voice of a given route.

Consumption: The Beast (Hunted), the ribcages in the bottom right. Being eaten, alive or half so, is one way or another the outcome you face in the Beast. This one seems to be the least connected to its route's Voice, though I can still see it in a relational sort of way. Betrayal: The Witch (Opportunist), the nail-studded... I can't tell what it is, but it's at the top left. Betrayal on your part is the cause of the Witch's route, and it too is inevitable in some form once you're on that route—the Opportunist is very vocal about it.

Skepticism: The Prisoner (Skeptic), the chains at the bottom. Pretty clear analogue given the name of the Voice, but not to neglect—you reach the Prisoner by taking the blade (distrust of the Princess) but ultimately using it to free the Princess (you take the time to think critically about what you're being asked to do, and decide the Narrator is less trustworthy). Blind devotion: The Damsel (Smitten), the... I can only imagine locks of hair at the top. You reach the Damsel by immediately and wholly assuming she has no ill intentions, an attitude made manifest in the Smitten.

Rivalry: The Adversary (Stubborn), the spikes to the left. The Adversary route is, so long as you embrace it, about your probably-a-metaphor-for-sex-I-mean-the-Eye of the Needle-isn't-even-trying-to-veil-it eternal fight with the Adversary, with the Stubborn in strong support. Submission: The Tower (Broken), the stone columns to the right. One of the most clear-cut "this is about the Voice" examples—the Broken has completely submitted to the Tower's will, even though the player still has a few chances to resist her.

Terror: The Nightmare (Paranoid), the eyes in the upper right. Of course, the Nightmare is all about fear, and the Paranoid is the embodiment of your fear of the Princess—the fear that made you lock her in the basement and the fear that stopped your heart when she broke free. Longing: The Spectre (Cold), the wisps in the bottom left. This one is interesting, and almost made me second-guess my "Voices" reading, as the Spectre herself is clearly a creature of longing—but then what about "Submission?" The Tower is not "submitting" to anything. That's her whole deal. Perhaps this one is connected to your desire for something other than what the Narrator calls the "Good Ending..." or perhaps it has something to do with the Cold's interest in feeling something, which he expresses in a few routes (the Greys being the most obvious).

Pain: The Razor (Cheated,) the spikes at the top. She skewers you, and you die. Over and over again she skewers you, and you die, and it is painful over and over again. I'm not sure I have much to add to this one. Unfamiliarity: The Stranger (Contrarian), the abstract DNA-like strand at the bottom. You reach the Stranger by refusing to interact with the Princess, leaving her an unfamiliar blank slate whose actions you cannot predict and thus fracture into every possible image of her.

And at the heart of it all, an emotion that can only be described as—what? The Narrator doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence before you wake up in the Prisoner's basement, but I'd think the answer is obvious once you've finished the game.

After all, this is a love story.

[gracies-baby]

Break Up Prank

(Gracie Abrams x Reader)

——————————————————————————

"I wanna prank Gracie" Y/n says to her girlfriend's cousin, causing her to look away from her phone to the girl.

"What kinda prank? It's kinda hard to do anything right now. She's on tour" Abby replies, putting her phone down to give Y/n her full attention.

"I was thinking.. I'm gonna pretend to break up with her" Y/n looks at the girl sheepishly.

"What?! That's so mean! She's gonna cry!"

"There's another part to it. I need your help though"

"How are there two parts to a break up pranks?" Abby asks as she eyes the girl with a suspicious look.

"When she comes back, I wanna pretend to cheat on her. And who better to do that with than her cousin?" Y/n replies as she gives Abby a toothy smile.

"You're actually insane! She might break up with you for real"

"Well, this is payback for the proposal prank she did on me a few weeks ago. Who pretends to propose to their girlfriend of 4 years? Of course I said yes!" Y/n exclaims angrily, waving her arms in the air while the blonde gives her a knowing smile.

"Okay, I'm gonna help you but you can't let her kill me!" Abby tells her with a glare.

"Yes! Thank you so much! You're literally the best cousin in law" Y/n replies as she gives the girl a big hug.

"You guys aren't married though"

"Yeah, and whose fault is that?" Y/n glares at a photo of Gracie on the wall.

"So, when do you wanna start?" Abby asks, taking her friends mind away from the subject.

"Now" Y/n pulls out her phone and begins typing.

LOML❤️

We need to talk

Gracie Baby 💙

Sure is everything okay ? I love you xx

LOML❤️

I think we should break up. The feelings just aren't there anymore. I'm sorry

Gracie Baby 💙

What?? Everything was fine when I left. Can't we talk about this? I only have a few more shows and I'll be home. Please wait a few days

LOML❤️

Fine but it's not going to change anything. All I'm doing when you get home is giving you an explanation.

Gracie Baby💙

That's all I ask. I love you so much  xxx

"Oh, I feel so bad now. Why's she so sweet? I love her so much" Y/n whines as she puts her phone down, leaving her girlfriend on read.

"She's sweet because she's so head over heels in love with you, you dumbass" Abby replies before her phone starts ringing.

"Oh, that's her" she tells her friend before answering the phone, putting it on speaker.

"Hey, can you make sure Y/n's okay for me? I just feel like she might be going through something"

"Yeah, sure, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just wanna make sure she's doing okay. Thanks, I'll see you in a few days" Gracie replies before hanging up the phone.

"You are so mean for doing this. How's she supposed to focus on these shows?" Abby glares at her friend.

"We're not actually breaking up. I wouldn't actually do that. But she should know not to mess with me. Unless I want her to, you know?" Y/n gives her friend a smirk as Abby pushes her shoulder.

"You're disgusting. You know she's my cousin right?"

—

Gracie arrives home a few days later, leaving her suitcase by the door as walks through the house.

"Y/n? I'm home!" Y/n walks out of the room, greeting her girlfriend with a frown.

"Hi"

"Hey, can we please talk about that text?" Gracie asks, reaching for the girls hand only for her to pull it away.

"There's not much to talk about. I just don't feel that way about you anymore" Y/n replies, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"How long has this been- wait.. is that a hickey? Who gave that to you?" Gracie asks, voice breaking.

"What? No.. I just burned myself on the curling iron" Y/n denies watching as tears fill her girlfriend's eyes.

"Baby, that's a fresh hickey and I know I didn't give it to you! Is there someone else?"

"Don't call me that, Gracie! I told you we're not together anymore"

"Do I know them?"

"There's no one else! You really think I would cheat on you? Even if there was, we're broken up! Who I'm with has nothing to do with you anymore" Y/n feels her heart break when she sees the look on her girlfriend's face.

"Right. Sorry. Do you want me to go? I'll stay with Abby or Audrey for a while. I'll come back later for my stuff. Uh, I love you" Gracie mumbles, walking to the door.

"I miss her! I love her so much!" Y/n exclaims to the blonde, pulling her into a hug.

"You're not actually broken up remember? She'll be back soon" Abby replies, hugging the shorter girl back.

"Sorry, I just forgot my suitcase-" Gracie's cut off when she sees the scene in front of her.

"When did you get here? Have you been here the whole time? Wait... did you give her the hickey?" Gracie asks, looking at her cousin in betrayal.

"Gracie wait!" Abby exclaims pulling away from Y/n.

"How could you do this? You know how much I love her!" Gracie yells, tears running down her face.

"I didn't do anything! You were the one that wasn't around! You really wanted her to wait for you?! You were gone for months!" Abby yells back in fake anger.

"I was doing my job! So I can afford to give her a good life-" their fighting is cut off by the shorter girl.

"Guys! Please stop! It's a prank!" Y/n yells.

"What?" Gracie questions watching as Abby bursts out laughing.

"That was payback for the proposal prank you did. Of course I don't wanna break up with you! I love you so much, you dummy!" Y/n responds pulling the brunette into a hug, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"But what about the hickey?" Gracie asks, wiping her tears and sighing in relief.

"It's just makeup. See?" Y/n responds, wiping the makeup off her neck.

"That is definitely the meanest thing you've done. Why would you help her do that? I was so fucking close to punching you!" Gracie tells her cousin with a laugh, pulling her girlfriend closer.

"You did pretend to propose to her. This probably hurt you just as much as that hurt her" Abby responds with a smirk.

"Yeah, you literally brought an entire engagement ring for a prank!" Y/n playfully glares at her girlfriend, gently punching her shoulder.

"It wasn't just for a prank" Gracie responds, watching her cousins leave the room.

"You really think I wouldn't wanna marry you? You are the best thing that has ever happened to me!" Gracie kisses her girlfriend's hand before getting on one knee and taking a small box out of her jacket pocket.

"This isn't the time or place I wanted to do this, but I guess it didn't happen in the way I wanted" Y/n giggles as her girlfriend references her own song, looking at the scene in front of her with a wide smile.

"Y/n, I love you so much. I have never loved anything the way I love you. I know my life is kinda crazy but you deal with that so well and I can't thank you enough for that. And as much as I love your last name, I was hoping you would wanna change it? Y/n Abrams has a nice ring to it" Gracie grins up at her girlfriend nervously waiting for her response.

"Of course I'm gonna marry you! I love you so much!" Gracie stands up, wrapping her fiancé in a big hug and pressing their lips together.

[fellamarsh]

another thing i've been trying to do recently is read more self-published stuff. "but fell," you say, "you're a self-published author. surely you've been reading self-published stuff all along" and then i laugh for so long in response we both become uncomfortable.

see, the fear (which has for a long time been killing my mind) that i'll read other self-published stuff and find out that it's so much better than mine that i might as well stop writing forever kept me from doing that basically ever. i have a hard time not unfavorably comparing my work to others and had convinced myself i was being smart by withholding an avenue of de-motivation (reader: i was not being smart). it also doesn't help that i'm pretty low income and have a hard time spending money on books i haven't already read, and that self-published stuff isn't always available at the library---but really a lot of it was just me being a coward. which i'm working on. i could talk about how this particular cowardice is Very Silly, but i think enough has been said about it on writeblr and in the Writing Space in general that i don't feel the need to (though i will if anyone wants me to).

instead, i wanna talk about the self-published things i have read in the past few months and ask about the self-published things you love!

so: what happened was i got real sick, and while i was real sick i (naturally) read over 200,000 words of ace attorney fan fiction in the span of a few days. eventually i got bored of it (and also maybe annoyed at how people were characterizing some of my guys), but i still wanted to read something gay and romantic and nice, something i knew was gonna end happily, which isn't my typical fare.

now you may be saying (having gotten over all the uncomfortable laughter from earlier) "fell, you write gay romance. what do you mean that's not your typical fare?" listen. until a couple months ago i hadn't read a cut and dry romance novel since before i finished college. for context: i graduated in 2015. i know it doesn't make sense. i'm a guy who doesn't make sense.

but in this case it worked to my advantage. not the not making sense thing, but the not having read Published Romance in 1000 years thing. I didn't know where to start. I was very skeptical of everything the library had Available Now in the Gay Fantasy Romance category. what if it was all bad and also not good?

and then i scrolled past the familiar cover of our very own @ashen-crest's A Rival Most Vial.

now this was comfortable territory! this was a novel by a very nice writeblr person whose posts i enjoy! i already loosely knew the plot, i was familiar with the characters, i knew the names of things like rosemond street and the griffin's claw and that ambrose had blue hair and that at the end of it all there would definitely be Boyfriends. i didn't have to worry that this would be bad! i only had to worry that it would be really good!

but i wasn't worried about that, because i was officially Not Writing at the time, and because why the hell hadn't i read this book yet Ash literally emailed me some very kind words last year when my cat died??

Y'all, I devoured ARMV. If you haven't read it yet---especially if cozy fantasy is more your thing than it is mine---you should check it out Immediately. It was fun! It was heartwarming! It was sweet and earnest and confident! I was delighted to find it was occasionally hot! Ambrose and Eli snuggled up into my sick exhausted heart and found a permanent little place there. (Especially Ambrose. I have such a thing for Stiff Guys who Kind of Suck for Tragic Backstory Reasons and are So So Lonely They Don't Even Realize It. gawd)

(And a very small part of my brain spent the whole time wondering why I had been so afraid to really engage with the work my community is doing. The community that I'm in. The one I'm a part of. Why?! Maybe more on that later.)

But from there the curse was broken! I immediately devoured @stjohnstarling's What Manner of Man in a similar sort of frenzy (and hooooly shit guys am I excited for the expanded, finalized version to come out at the end of next month!) and started digging into @lurinatftbn's The Flower that Bloomed Nowhere (which I can already tell is going to be an All Time Favorite).

And now I want to ask you what your favorite self-published books are so that I can read them, too, but I think I will in another post that doesn't dedicate so much space to talking about my various and sundry Issues and isn't Terminally Long

[quills-of-freedom]

Crossroads Chapter V

I can only apologise for the lateness of this, my ask box is flooded with requests. (Thank you for your interest) It started with burnout, then my laptop broke, then I was busy (I still am really) and this year I've lost family members and just all round been a time where Tumblr isn't my main priority. Thank you for understanding 💓

Previous Chapters:

I

II

III & IV

Warnings: Angst, a lot of it. Smut, fluff, violence.

Kinks:

Praise kink. Whining pathetic Reiner. Breeding kink.

Reiner

If your choice is Reiner, continue reading. If it's Porco, you'll find it here when it's uploaded.

No cheating!

The chokehold you've been placed in wasn't a pleasant one, both men gazing at you longingly, their eyes pleading for you to make the right choice, to pick them over the other. Can't you see they are the one that loves you? The one person who truly would do anything for your heart. The other choice is evidently the wrong decision, for the opposition could not possibly admire you as much as they do.

With a tightness in your throat you take a step away from Porco and towards Reiner; the breaking of Porco's heart was almost audible from where you were standing, his hand immediately flying over his chest to cover his new deep wound.

"I'm sorry, Porco..." your strained vocals press. "There's just so much I need to know that only Reiner has the answer to. We can catch up later, okay?"

"No, yeah..." He whispers, his head nod/shake exaggerated by his shell shock. His eyes seem to be looking right through you, not at you, as they become glazed with sorrow. "I uh... I understand. Just... look after her, okay?" His gaze snaps over to Reiner, whose deep frown is prominent.

"Of course." Reiner nods in reply as you take another side step towards him.

"I'm so sorry, Porco..." you repeat, the guilt so heavy you could barely stand.

"Don't be." He croaked, forcing a smile.

"Come on." Reiner ushers you to his side turning to take you further into the Forest. "We got a lot to talk about."

Your head nods curtly, following the broad-shouldered man into the treeline. You're sure you made the right choice. The questions running around your head every night, haunting you, why did Reiner do this? Why did he do that? Was it all a lie? They had to stop, for your own sanity. Breaking Porcos heart was collateral damage, unfortunately, but closure was what you needed to move forward. You glance back at the man who just saved your life as you step into the shaded trees; now sitting on the ground with his head in his hands. Your heart stings before the brush Reiner pushes aside for you springs back into place, covering the broken man from your view.

"Will he be okay?" You ask quietly, eyes glued to the floor as you stepped over thick shrubbery and fallen limbs of the trees.

"Yeah." Reiner mutters. "He's a good fighter."

"No, I mean-"

"I knew what you meant."

After a while of walking, Reiner finally is satisfied with a location for a temporary place to stay. The journey wasn't too long, but the heavy atmosphere made every second feel like a short eternity. Every footstep away from Porco's crumpled form was difficult, the desire to turn and run back to him was sometimes so strong it almost possessed you. But you remained focused, reminding yourself of why you'd chosen Reiner in the first place.

You watch the Blonde Warrior out of the corner of your eye as you help him set up camp. God's he hadn't really changed... physically anyway. Or had he? He looked a little older, his chest and shoulders a little broader. Maybe to shoulder the weight of the world he seemed to be carrying? But everything else was the same. His mannerisms, the way he carried himself as he strutted through the brush... reminding you of the first night you had spent together.

Feels like a lifetime ago...

The small huffs he was making as he rolled away a heavy log were the same noises he'd make during training. It was hard to believe everything had changed so much from that time. You close your eyes imagining you're back in time. This is just another training exercise Shadis has sent you all on.

Sasha, Connie and Jean arguing over who gets to avoid sleeping in the middle of their small tent.

Ymir and Historia cosied up by the fire.

Marco on his back gazing at the stars, eyes filled with childlike wonder.

Such simpler times...

Your throat tightens, hand forming into a fist as you breathe through this wave of emotion. Back then, Eren wasn't a mass murderer who has totally lost his sanity. Sasha hadn't been shot. Ymir hadn't been eaten by Porco. Marco wasn't killed by the man you're now standing with.

You picture the scene so vividly in your mind, you could almost hear the fire crackling, the burning musk of dampened wood filling your nose.

"You alright?"

Your eyes snap open.

That was an actual fire you could smell, freshly built by Reiner as he now started on the tent.

"Y-yeah."

Every fiber of your being, every cell in your body wished you could reach through the fabric of time to go back to those good old days, even if just for mere minutes.

The events of the last few years have taught you that hauntings are indeed real but they're all within yourself. Your heart twists and yearns for the company of ghosts who's presence you no longer felt.

Reiner has to really focus on the task at hand as he begins to put up the tent poles. The mirror image of your first time together. A tent in the woods and now... well now, he was sure one wrong move and you'd try to kill him. Again.

Last time was so nervous he fumbled, stuttered, and dropped equipment. Now he feels so empty. A glance into the past of the life he once had. Over the last four years he would have given anything to be able to see you, to touch you once more. And now he has that chance, he feels so unworthy he can hardly look at you.

But God were you still beautiful.

He walks by you to get another pole, not daring to ask you to pass it to him.

The sleepless nights, tossing and turning in a cold sweat from the thought of what could have been. But he couldn't abandon his mission, his comrades, his country - just because he fell in love with an island devil.

What he wouldn't give to smell your scent again. To hold you in his arms. Just one more chance. Please.

He walks back towards the tent when his hand accidenlty brushes against yours. It was only so slightly, both of your minds elsewhere. To have any spacial awareness in the tight clearing wasn't likely when both of your cognitive functionings had spluttered and stalled.

You both freeze.

Reiners eyes widen like he's just been electrocuted, his jaw tense.

You take the pole from him, your face beginning to smoulder with a coloured hue, taking it to the tent and finishing the job for him.

"I'm sorry." He grumbles behind you.

"Its no big deal."

You can't even turn to look at him, instead you focus upon your task. Now it's your turn to be nervous, to fumble and suddenly totally forget how to set up a tent, even though you'd done it a thousand times.

"No, y/n... im... I'm sorry."

You realise now he's not talking about accidently touching you.

You now turn to meet his gaze, silent tears pouring down his cheeks. All the regret, sorrow, frustration, guilt... its finally now able to release somewhat.

You don't know what to say.

You glance down, fiddling with the bamboo pole in your hand. You wanted your answers. Here they are for the taking.

So why can't I even look at him?!

Your eyes widen in sheer horror as Reiner Braun, the holder of the armoured titan, the man who caused so much death and destruction, falls to his knees before you, grabbing your hand and gazing up at you. Those honey eyes that had been witness to the atrocities he was capable of, now full of agony.

"Please, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness..." His words struggle through his sobs. "I wouldn't even ask for it. But I'd give anything for you to understand... why I did what I did... why we did what we did..." His mind flitters to Annie who was gods know where, and Beartoldt, poor Beartoldt, the timid and kind hearted boy who was dragged into this infernal hell - the boy so kind he couldn't even fully utilise the Colossals full power.

That knife that had been permanently wedged into your back since the reveal four years ago suddenly loosens at his words, the sight of him being such a sorry mess pulling your heart in ways you didn't expect.

You've been to Marley.

You infiltrated their way of life, and boy was it a sorry one.

Segregation, indoctrination, false histories, much like your own world- he gave his heart to his cause. He gave his heart to a lie.

Much like yourself.

Paradis wasn't full of witches and devil's. It was full of people just like his mother. His cousin. Like himself.

And even when he'd learned Paradis wasn't this realm of darkness he was led to believe, if he didn't finish what he started, his loved ones would surely suffer for it.

You sink to your knees along with him, not being able to bear how broken the man you love has become, your own tears shedding as you hold his face to ensure his teary gaze locked onto yours.

"I do, Reiner. I understand. I know what you've been through. We've seen your country. We're all a byproduct of this cruel world..." you take a deep breath, steadying yourself. "The only answer to hate and segregation, is love and acceptance. I forgive you, Reiner. I may not be able to forget... but I know now you were just doing what you had to do. Just like we were when we... attacked Liberio. Sort of... its... complicated. But you know that better than anyone, right?"

He nods, his eyes crumpling closed as he desperately leans into your touch, the one he's been longing for, for four years.

"But were we a lie? Did you mean what you said then? How you and beartoldt were dead... and it was all a lie?" Your tragic eyes blink at him.

Reiner places his head against yours. "No. We were real. I had to say that to convince myself... God, y/n if only you knew... this whole situation is just... bullshit."

You laugh softly.

Bit of an understatement, but yeah.

"And you..." Reiner then whispers, placing the side of his index finger under your chin. "How've you been holding up?" His eyes search yours, looking desperately for any sign that you still love him as he does you.

"I've just been... moving forward." You answer honestly, a phrase he'd often tell you in encouragement.

"That's my girl..." His voice almost a whisper.

You freeze at his words, wanting nothing more than for this stupid fighting to stop. His hand runs through your hair, his eyes gazing into your very soul.

"I've... missed you." He admits honestly, still pawing your hair. "I'd do anything to be able to have you in my arms again. I thought of you... every damn day for the last four years."

Your heart swells both with love and despair.

Fuck it.

You press your lips against his, immediately your senses bombarded with his familiar smell, taste and feel.

That little nudge was all he needed, his eyes closed with a pleading brow, holding your jaw delicately as if he would break you if he allowed himself to go at the pace he wanted. The whimper from his throat an indicator of his honesty that he had indeed, wished for this for a long time.

Your kiss deepens, his tongue smoothly sliding into your mouth, boldly entering as if it hadn't been away for years. He pushes you back gently, one large hand grabbing your thigh from your kneeling position, pulling it up to his hip as he lowers you with trembling arms. You swing your trapped leg free, more than happy to feel his weight between your hips once again as the hold on his self control begins to dwindle and falter, another, louder whimper sending heat surging through you.

You revel at the feeling of his hair between your fingers once again, and enjoying the new scratching sensation from his facial hair, as his mouth makes its way down your neck, slowly and yet also hurriedly at the same time. His quaking body holds back, a large paw pulling your shoulder stap down your arm as his mouth now trails to your chest.

Reiner had hungered for you for too long, and boy was he starving, his other large hand grabbing your ass cheek firmly, his hips slowly thrusting, looking for some sort of friction against you, something, anything. The pathetic whining puppy look turned you on if you were being honest with yourself.

"Let me have you again..." He pleads, face flushed already from this short interaction.

You're surprised at how quickly he's lost himself in the red haze but you weren't complaining.

"You're so perfect, so beautiful... please, y/n, let me feel your insides again... I'll do anything to make you feel good again... let me make you feel like you're floating... I wanna feel you cum around my cock..."

Your entirety burns at his words, your own red hue starting to develop under your cheeks. He'd certainly become more brazen over the years. Or maybe it was just sheer desperation? You didn't know, nor did you care as you nod to signal his permission.

A groan rumbles him as he pulls down your shirt with a roughened haste, his hot breath looking like titan steam as he gasps at your form, eyes heavy-lidded and predatory.

"Look at my princess..." He whispers in awe as he then pulls off his own shirt, quickly returning to your touch, those mere seconds far too long away from your skin. He grabs your breast, leaning down and placing it in his mouth, his other hand reaching between your legs, sliding his hand down your trousers and slowly rubbing you over your underwear. He groans at the warmth of you, your already dampening cloth an invitation for him to ruin you.

The testosterone soaring through his body made him think of how he'd almost lost this moment to Porco. Porco fuckin' Galliard. The loser who would touch himself at night thinking of you, images of you naked from Ymirs memories... well now he once again had the real thing.

Sucks to be you, Galliard.

And boy was Reiner going to prove to you that you'd made the right choice. Reiner already has the previous knowledge of where all of your sweet spots were and he was going to get them all. His mouth moves to your next erogenous zone all while slowly circling your main one through the soft fabric.

Your body is engulfed in flames, your lips parted in gasps, your fingers digging into the grass beneath you as Reiner assaults your senses with no mercy. You'll not receive an ounce of mercy either, his hungry mouth now moving to your next sweet spot, still humping at nothing.

You whisper his name in encouragement, a loud croaked whine from him as a reply.

He suddenly sits up, hair a mess, face flushed as he roughly pulls down your trousers throwing them carelessly to the side, his eyes not once leaving your form.

"I'm going to devour you..." He huffs, mostly to himself the force of him now yanking your panties down pulling you closer to him. "You belong to me and only me....I'll remind you of that."

He arches over you, unzipping himself free, that beautiful cock just as fat as you remembered with that delicious upward curve at the tip. It throbs and dances angrily, weeping with precum as he grabs the base of his shaft.

"I can't hold back any longer..." He breathes, looking into your eyes. "I won't last... I've needed you for too long."

"I don't care..." is your reply, your equally starved body more than ready for him.

He pushes himself in firmly but at a stress pace, the size of him always a tough pill for your insides to swallow. Your mouth hangs open at the sensation of his girth splitting you open so deliciously, your walls pushing and resisting him.

He cries out loudly, your tight insides snuggly protesting his invasion as they spasm, seemingly swallowing him whole yet pushing him out at the same time, like they can't decide what they want. But he knows what he wants, and with a final push, he was at the hilt.

He wastes no time, lifting up your leg and thrusting within you with feverish glee.

Your body can't seem to comprehend what was happening, your eyes closed in bliss, pleasure flowing through you and building up from each push of his form, that curved tip pushing against your G-spot and pleasure zones you'd forgotten you'd had, places only Reiners dick could stretch and reach.

With each movement, a loud groan or hiss sounded from the feral warrior, the wet, sloppy sounds music to his ears as you sing your song of pleasures.

"Shit... ah... all mine. Fuck, please... please don't make me wait this long again. This body feels so good... so perfect... baby... urgh I'm not gonna last... cum for me, sweetheart... I'm going to make you a mess..."

The words of filth from his mouth only add to your mounting pleasure, your body being the thing that has pushed him beyond his sanity.

Your nails sink into his back as he works you, your ability to speak has all but gone.

"Nurgh, harder..." He instructs. "Make me yours again... show me how good you feel right now."

You obey, sinking your nails harder into his back, his hiss of pleasure drowned out by the hiss of steam emitting from his small wounds as they heal.

"Again..." He moans.

You agree as he thrusts with more urgency knowing that the tightening of your insides meant he was pushing you towards your end.

"Good girl..." He smirks into your neck. "You're my good girl... cum for me..."

You gasp as you snap, your insides spasming and pulling him further into your orgasm. His loud groan fades away as everything goes black, your face numb as you're carried away to realms beyond your understanding.

You feel his thick liquid splatter against your cervix as you slowly fade back into your assigned dimension, your breath heaving as his spluttering cock is audible while it spews and vomits his seed into you. He collapses, grunting but he remains inside of you, the white sticky substance from his body leaking from you, his dick still as hard as it was when it first invaded your insides. You wince as he slowly begins thrusting again, your swollen and oversensitive cunt not yet ready for another assault.

"Gonna impregnate you..." He whispers with a smirk, somehow still not within his own mind. "You're gonna be all swollen with me... fill you right up... all big and full... URGH!"

You groan as you feel him pick up the pace. How is this even possible? Did he want you that much?

Your question is answered for you as he pushes your legs to your chest, the deep and full feeling almost too much as your sensitivity returns to pleasure.

"You've always taken me so well, princess..." He praises as he watches you with awe. "Such a good little pussy... so tight... all m-mine..."

You'd almost forgotten about his little kink of getting you all full of his seed but sure enough, he's quick to remind you as he continues to stuff himself as far into you as he'll go, his breathing hoarse and his groans even more so.

"R-reiner..." you gasp.

"Yeah baby... moan my name... I'll never get tired of hearing that..."

He plunges harder, the mess he's making down there evident as his balls and pubic bone are smeared with his thick load and your own wetness. It squelches and slides yet not once does your unbridled passion nor pleasure leave you.

"Look at me..." He orders, gazing into your very soul. "There's no way I'm letting you go again. You're mine. Say it."

"I..." you stammer through pleasure. "I'm y-yours Reiner. All yours..."

Satisfied, he plunges harder, the breath leaving your body as he partakes in self indulgence within you. His grunt of approval with your words loud and gruff, his focus on the last few pushes before your next orgasm.

"Shit, Reiner..." you curse as you swirl the drain, falling and tumbling into your second wave of bliss.

"Mmmm take my load...." He grunts as he cums again, maybe not as strong as the one he'd just had but just as sweet nonetheless.

He rolls off you, panting having pushed himself a little too far while his chest heaves. You immediately feel his hot goop spill out of you, the sheer amount of it surprising you. You knew he was capable of a huge load, but this?

He takes your hand, his gaze at the sky with a pained expression.

"I missed that..." His pants are heavy and laboured.

"Yeah... me too."

*

"Wait... what do you mean?" Armin whispers, eyes wide. "Are you... sure...? You can't be sure, right?"

"Tell me you're lying!" Mikasa screeches, grabbing Jean's coat with desperation.

"I'm sorry, you guys..." Jean's teeth clench, fighting and failing to hold in his sobs. "I saw it with my own eyes. She was eaten by the jaw titan. I couldn't get to her, I was flanked either side by Flochs flunkies... I'm sorry we couldn't rendezvous sooner, it was too dangerous. But yeah, that was a couple of hours ago now..."

Mikasa's legs tremble, Jean holding her arms to keep her steady as he continues; "When Eren finds out... I can't imagine this is going to help his current mental state, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who witnessed it."

Connie slumps to the floor - or rather the rooftop they were all standing on. "No... not another one... I cant... I can't keep doing this!"

"Come on guys..." Jean snarls through tears. "We still have plenty to do. She wouldn't want us putting our mission on the back-burner like this!"

His words are met with only sobbing as a reply.

"So they're here..." Armin ponders solemnly. "Which means -"

Their mourning is cut short as a huge explosion is heard, their automatic flinch and yelp of surprise now seeming like second nature as their ears are filled with a distant enraged roar.

Mikasa dabs her eyes, looking in the direction of the military building. "Looks like Eren has heard the news..."

Jean nods. "Come on, get it together! We gotta move!"

They all nod leaping into action, flying their ODM gear through the streets towards the plume of smoke, dust and titan steam.

Mikasa's thoughts race as she blasts towards another loud roar and smash. Maybe y/n managed to cut her way out? Please, anything but this. She can't lose anyone else...

She blinks away tears as she pulls herself up higher, the huge figure of Erens titan form now coming into view in the distance. She can already feel Eren slipping through her fingers, no matter how tightly she grasped. She couldn't lose you too.

Eren transforming has of course attracted all attention, Mikasa spotting another Jeagerist also heading towards the disruption. With a tug of her wires, she slings around the corner, blades raised and ready as the enemy spots her.

"He-!"

Before he could even finish his word her blade had sunken into his chest and removed again.

"Keep your eyes open!" She hears Jean yell. "They'll surely be more!"

"Its the Cart titan!" Armin calls down from up higher. "Its armed! It's got that artillery on its back!"

"Shit!" Jean hisses as they fly. "That thing cuts through us like paper mache!"

*

The plans gone to shit.

Porco thinks as his Titan form sprints through the town on all fours.

What's made Jeager expose himself like this?! Whatever the reason, I'm glad Magath is with Pieck up on the wall with the artillery. I hope Reiner heard the explosion, there's no way we can get word to him now.

His eyes spot a familiar figure, one of the Ackermans not too far away, also heading towards the attack titan. He gets poised, ready to attack when the image of you stabs into his head.

Shed be crushed if I killed her comrades. But... she made her choice. Right? Ackerman is a huge threat. I need to get rid of her now before she causes more trouble later.

He positions himself on a rooftop, titan eyes glaring and ready to pounce towards her in a sprint. It'll only take a couple of bounds before he's on top of her.

*

You sprint through the forest as fast as your legs can carry you, the thundering footsteps of the armoured sprinting pretty far ahead of you. You'd left your god damn ODM gear in that clearing Porco dropped you off in and Reiner in all his wisdom wanted you to get it yourself, the later you are to the fight, the better in his eyes.

You break through the clearing where Porco had released you from his mouth, the only sign of his previous presence the almost fully disintegrated titan corpse.

Your fingers fumble as you quickly grab your gear, glancing up and seeing Reiner leap over the top of the wall, disappearing with a huge crash on the other side. Your thoughts race as you attach your gear to your belt, working as fast as you possibly could to -

You freeze.

You heard a roar.

A different kind of roar.

One that filled the sky with static and a bright orange glow.

Zeke... he's... he's done it.

Deafening crashes emit in the distance, only pushing you to move faster. The amount of drills you've taken to get equipped as fast as possible didn't seem to have had any effect as each second felt like an eternity. You needed to be there. You needed to get there quickly. And even when you're done, it's a good run to the wall, nothing around you to sink your hooks into.

Finally ready, you break into your frantic sprint, your gear clinking loudly with your violent steps.

Please god, please... keep everyone safe... I just want this all to end...

Was that really Zekes scream? Had he done it? Turned everyone into a titan?!

*

"Keep em off him!" Mikasa screams as she zooms around and over Eren who is grappling with Reiner.

"There's titans everywhere!" Armin screeches. "Get the thunder spears ready! Take down the cart titans artillery!"

"Jean's taken down the Jaw!" Mikasa informs him as they zip towards the wall. "He saw it ready to pounce, but for whatever reason, it didn't."

"There's no time to ponder on details just now." Armin pants as they fly together. "Keep your focus on the job at hand."

"That goddamn monkey!" Jean curses from behind them. "He really did it... he's turned everyone who drank that wine into a titan!"

"Stay focused!" Armin reminds him. "Are you certain the jaw is down?!"

"Got him with a thunder spear. I missed my shot but it's down and won't be fighting anytime soon."

"Good." Armin hisses through his teeth. "We need to -"

He's interrupted by a loud cry from Mikasa.

"Its y/n!"

"What?!"

Sure enough they see you blasting over, taking in the situation.

The three of them blink in disbelief as they watch you head over towards the grappling titans.

"Focus!" Armin smiles. "Although... I cant say I'm not glad..."

Your eyes flicker across the scene, taking everything in. Zeke was down. Titan steam made visibility pretty low. Reiner was stuck against Eren with a long necked titan nibbling on his nape. You weren't too worried just yet, knowing Reiners armour will keep him safe for now. But then you see Gabi, alone and far too close to the fight in a town now swarming with Titans.

Landing next to her you grab her arm.

"Come on, hold onto me, I'll take you somewhere safe." You instruct.

Her eyes are wide staring at something you weren't yet aware of.

You turn to follow her gaze, a figure emerging from the thick, hot steam.

Your lips part and some unseen force seems to punch you in the gut as you see Porco, staggering towards you - half of his head is missing, his face covered in blood and yet... and yet he's smiling.

"It took everything I have to heal just this much..." His voice croaks, the effort of speaking too difficult.

He stumbles, still walking towards you.

Before you could even react, the titan chewing on Reiner leaps from him and heads towards the man who saved your life. The man who's heart you'd not long ago crushed cruelly in your palm.

"PORCO!" You scream.

And he was gone.

His legs flail in the air as the long-necked titan chews him in half right before your eyes; a scene now all too familiar.

Everything goes numb as you hear a roar of rage from Reiner, the surge of emotion giving him strength to pummel Eren into the ground with a single punch.

The world around you spins as you lose your balance.

Whether it was grief. Whether you'd just had enough... you didn't know. But all you were aware of was the hard ground meeting you before everything goes black.

*

Your eyes open, but you're not within the normal realm. You realise this is a dream and you recognise this place. It's the meeting place for you and Porco. The one you've shared for four years. Except now, he's standing with his back towards you.

Where you'd normally greet the other with glee, the atmosphere felt... different.

"Porco!" You gasp, sprinting towards him. "Are you okay?"

He doesn't respond.

You give him a small shake, panic gripping you harshly. "Porco, please tell me you're okay. What happened?"

He takes a step away. And another. And another.

You go to follow him but your feet are glued to the floor. With all your might, you just can't seem to pick your legs up off the ground.

You shout.

You scream.

You plead.

But without ever looking back, Porco continues to walk across the sand dune towards the star-filled sky until...

Your eyes fly open. You bolt up, breath heaving and tears falling down your face.

"Hey... its okay. You're okay..."

Reiner hovers above you, looking worse for wear.

"What happened? Where is Eren? Did Porco... was he really...?"

Reiners head lowers. He's not really sure how to respond to your question. He sees how broken you are. He didn't want to be the one to make it worse.

"Eren started the rumbling." Connie mutters from the corner of the room. "He's a lost cause."

Your brain fails to register his words.

Mikasa and Armin wrap their arms around you, more than glad to see you alive.

"Wait... what?" You struggle to comprehend. "No, he wouldn't do that."

"Its true." Armin whispers in your ear as he hugs you. He pulls back from your squeeze, looking forlorn. "We... we've joined forces with Reiners side. We... we have to stop Eren."

You let out a loud laugh, confusing your friends.

"So... this is what it's took, huh? For the pointless fighting to stop... its a little late... poor Porco... oh god... Porco..."

Reiner gives your hand a squeeze as you crumble into sobs.

"Who?" Jean frowns.

"Porco Galliard, the jaw titan." Reiner informs him. "He saved y/n's life earlier today. He hadn't eaten her. He saved her."

Your friends glare at the floor, guilt bombarding them.

"We need a plan." Connie huffs.

"We need to rest before anything else. Reiner is in no shape to fight and neither are we." Jean admits. "I mean, how much time do we have? Hours? Days?"

"I don't know..." Armin sighs.

You get to your feet slowly, still a little unsteady.

"This ends now. It has to. We can't take anymore."

The room remains silent and they ponder.

"We have to either kill Eren or let him kill everyone else."

[marcia-11111]

Daffodils. III. The broken souls pt. 1

I apologize for the very late update, however last half a year was quite hectic and unstable for me - from a toxic job to the exams. But now, I'm better.

Tag list: @idk-bro-gay @kiopanxp @hellothere9597 @hsxhype @mareonyan @is2sae

TW!

Breakup, angst, and heartache

Sae Itoshi is a Japanese prodigy pursuing his dream of becoming the world's best midfielder. In the race to his own goals, he loses the person dearest to him: you. 

(y/n) (l/n) - Sae’s ex-partner. You are an exchange student from a Spanish university who came to Japan. You met him a few years ago during your year abroad in Spain and became his partner. You have moved on, or you thought you had. However, what will happen when the one who wanted you to avoid him the most finds himself again in your life? Is he going to prove his love to you? Or will everything turn into another heartbreak? Does your heart want the Japanese prodigy back?

All "Blue lock" characters belong to the authors of the manga and anime "Blue lock".

Please don't translate, plagiarise nor use my works on other social media platforms, etc.

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

Trying to find a student job abroad was such a hassle. Only a couple of days have passed since you came to Japan in search of a peaceful year, having known of him not being fond of his homeland. However, fate is full of surprises. 

For some, love was simply not a part of their destiny. It must've hurt, but it was the truth, especially for you. Why would a heart decide to suffer instead of leaving all the emotions behind? 

You have already been jobhunting for a couple of hours, but everywhere seemed to be well-staffed or you're unqualified for the job. Regardless how hard you tried, you're left with no option. 

"What a hassle." A sigh escapes your lips. Out of nowhere, a window pops out—a job offer for a soccer club manager, part-time. “Blue Lock? That popular programme?” You read it out loud. The description seems quite fitting, and you lack any other options. “But if it is soccer...” You released a sigh. No need to worry; the possibility of Sae coming there is low. You decide to apply. Fortunately, it's a smooth process that you could finish quickly. 

“Now, there is some time for myself!” You chuckle and turn on the TV. The sight of the next minute causes you to flinch. “Sae…”

“Itoshi Sae, the prodigy midfielder’s last assist, caused Royale Youth to win against the FC Barcelona team; however, the soccer player refused the interview offer!” You sigh once more and load a (f/m) to watch. “No need to think about him.” Still, the lingering feelings in your heart remain unchanged, no matter how much time passes. A single tear streams down your cheek. 

“...”

“Hah. What a time we had.” You focus on the movie instead, struggling to abandon the sadness in your heart. 

Sae’s POV

Everything has seemed bland since that day I had discarded everything I deemed worthy of my attention. All of my life had lost its color. I destroy everything I came across as it should (not) be. 

I walked across the beach aimlessly - the shore reminded me of the better days before Madrid, fame and the force of expectations, insatiable greed and hurtful pride. I became a hope of Japanese soccer, but… No, I am not like that. Whom I wish to fool? The outside world crushed me and molded in a form the child self of mine wouldn’t recognize, a cynical person whose mean words hide the hurt.

“Ugh.” I sigh. The sun shone brightly, blinding me for a moment. A moment later, I notice something (f/c) on the sand. Usually I wouldn’t give a damn about an item, but some unknown force convinced to pick it up. My eyes widen. “W-wait.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. It’s (y/n)’s handwriting. But how come they’re? Especially, after everything that has happened. I didn’t dare topen the diary, but when I stood up straight, a photo fell out. It looks drenched with tears. Tears, which didn’t have time to dry up yet. It means they’re here not that long ago. But how do I dare think about her? Finally, I leave the beach, hoping that my past mistakes wouldn’t haunt me.

[toxicruins101]

YOUR WORDS KILLED ME

Sbi! Family x Male! Killer! Reader.

Tw!: Gore, torture, mentions of torture, blood, killing, depression. Etc.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

you couldn't even keep count of how many days it had been since you were stuck down here.

1, 2, 3..678910..

Who knows? Yet as the faint sound of your blood dropping onto the floor making a slight consecutive sound you became aware of the passage of time around you.

The faint sound of chains rubbing with each other, making an awful sound.

Pain was the only thing you felt at the moment and you knew you weren't going to last very longer in this hell hole.

You committed a crime, a deadly one quite literally, and in exchange you got sentenced to this.

Torture and torture for days on end.

You heard the heavy metal door move and tried to look up but even that hurt.

You could try to look up with your eyes but you failed the energy to even do that.

"Hey mate.." Philza, oh your sweet father Philza, all this time he had been so hopeful and so relived when they told him you'll be able to get out instead of serving a life long sentence

Yet it pained you so much, knowing his poor heart was going to be crushed.

"Are you feeling ok? I'm guessing your asleep right now though.."

'I'm not sleeping, I'm dying' you thought as a warm feeling invaded your pain struck heart.

Your father always did care for you, he always has, as his first child you meant everything to him.

You wish you could scream out to him and tell him your fate, but were unable as your tongue had been cut out in the early days of this sentence.

You wanted to cry and sob, tell him everything that was wrong, so maybe he could save you, he could rescue you.

That maybe you'll get to see your little brothers again.

Maybe train with techno one last time, teach Wilbur guitar again, and help tommy pull pranks on the others just for one more time.

But your death seemed closer than that possibility coming true.

"Don't worry mate, just 2 more weeks and your out of here, two more weeks and you'll get to go home." Spoke your father tears welling in his eyes at the sight of your broken hanged up form.

You'd be long gone by then, your poor heart ached at the thought of your caring family having to receive the news of your death.

You all meant a lot to the other, so just thinking about it made you weep.

"I'll be taking my leave now mate, stay strong ok? We are all waiting for you back home.." his voice spoke, you tried to move towards him, yell at him to stop and speak a little more.

To null the pain and bring back the good memories, you wanted to die with a familiar voice calling out to you.

Not the treacherous screams of the other inmates in here whose fates have already been decided.

Soon after though another person came in.

"Y/n? You there?"

Techno

Techno!

You were so glad, you wanted to run up and hug him so tightly both of you were out of air.

Sadly you couldn't so you slightly moved your arms making the chains jingle hoping that would give him the message you were listening to him.

"Ah good, thought you were passed out there for a sec and I got really scared.." he chuckled lightly at the end of his sentence

Don't say stuff like that...it'll only make it harder for me to die you thought

"listen, we all, really miss you ok? I know what you did was bad, but, nobody deserves this.

Come back home, ok? We all.

Really need you" spoke his grave voice as he slowly made his way outside, looking over at you again before leaving.

There were so many things you wanted to say to him.

So many

So so many.

You had missed him so much over the years it was crazy.

You didn't know if this was the gods way of having mercy on you and letting you hear your family one last time or their punishment.

Making you hear and bear that weight of sadness knowing all their hopes of you getting out of here were going to get tarnished by your inevitable death.

No-one?

Guess that was it.

Maybe Wilbur and tommy didn't think you were worth their time-

"Y/n?..." Spoke a gentle voice from the other side of the space.

Wilbur.

You slightly smiled, you wanted to cry more than ever.

You had missed him so much.

Hearing about his death in l'manburg broke you in a million pieces

Yet there he stood now, revived and well.

He only started at you and walked over.

He inspected your weak form and wanted to cry at the state of it.

In an act of anger, at seeing his brother, his blood, one of the men who raised him be hung up and treated like a punching bag he broke the chains holding up your arms, with a sword that always hanged loosely on his belt.

Guards came rushing in as you finally felt your hands in God knows how long.

You smiled at him and he smiled back at you.

Guards came in and started pushing him out

He screamed and thrashed in their hold.

"LET GO OF ME YOU FUCKS, IM TALKING WITH MY BROTHER, WAIT-

NO NO WAIT-

Y-!"

his voice got cut off as he was forced out and the metal door slammed shut.

The guards looked at your weak form on the ground and scoffed as they pulled you up and tied you by your wrists.

So much for feeling your hands again

This time you didn't hear a voice, not even a peep.

Just quiet footsteps as they came closer and closer to you.

You felt gentle arms around your torso, careful as to not hurt you as sobs emitted from said person.

Tommy, the youngest out of all of you.

You looked at his dirty blonde hair and wanted to reach out and hug him so bad as he hugged and cried onto your broken skin.

His sobs filled out the room as tears fell from your eyes at the sight of your little brother in pain.

All because of you

Your family was suffering

Your friends were suffering

Everyone was suffering

Because of you

"All right, visiting times over kid, scram" spoke your torturer and you wanted to punch him faceless because of how he talked to your brother.

He only glared at the man but then took notice of the various array of weapons desplayed on his cart.

Full of blood, your blood, to be precise.

"hey, wait, no." He said as he stared.

Two more guards came out and went towards him when they realized he had no plans of leaving.

"HEY! NO! WHAT ARE YOU PLANNING ON DOING TO HIM! NO! DONT YOU DARE-" Spoke the blonde haired kid as they dragged him out, tears falling from his blue eyes.

"Something permanent" spoke your abuser as he smirked at your disheveled younger brother being forced out of the room.

You could hear your name being called and sobs from the other side.

No

No

NO

NO

NONO

NONONONO

NO GOD PLEASE

Don't leave me please

Philza...

Techno...

Wilbur....

Tommy...

Don't leave me to die alone please...

[mid-somer]

I'm thinking about Bob' Burgers again

I've been thinking about Linda and Bob Belcher a lot lately. Bob's Burgers is my favorite show and I've noticed that everyone who watches the show shares most of the same opinions on things (almost all of them positive, very few being negative) but one thing I've seen quite a few people say is that Bob and Linda aren't good parents. They say Bob doesn't care about anything except the restaurant and Linda favors Gene and is the typical "boy mom" and as a kid whose parents are those exact things I have thoughts about it.

At no point in the show does Bob ever put anything over the well-being of his family, but he does it in subtle ways. We obviously know the restaurant is his dream, but from the movie, you can tell he cares more about it being a source of livelihood for his family, keeping a roof over their heads, and keeping them safe. He did not hesitate to follow Linda into the Mole Hill when he saw the kids' bikes. once he realized he might be taking their childhood from them like his dad did at his restaurant he didn't hesitate to fire them so they could go live their lives and have a good childhood and he didn't hesitate to go get them from the weird old people's pot farm. That episode where Gene has a bully and he tries his hardest to help him out without hesitation. The Thomas Edison episode where they think Tina's hurt and he got to her the fastest despite being portrayed as someone who hates physical activity and never does it. The stone the witch game he plays with the kids where they're throwing pillows at him and jumping all over him while he's reading and smiling so huge because he just loves having his kids around. He got his legs waxed to help Tina through her fear! It wasn't "you're too young" or "that's a stupid thing to worry about" it was "it's your body and this is your worry and also I don't know how shaving works so I'll help you through waxing"

And Linda? Linda so very obviously loves Gene but I don't think she favors him or has that toxic boy mom mentality. When Gene started dating Courtney she was so excited for him to have a new person in his life who could see how cool he was. But when Louise fell into the crime hole? The only thing she cared about was her kids safety. When Tina and Bob told her they got into that accident in the parking lot with Jimmy Pestos car and her first reaction was to scream in terror and concern for her daughter. She loves everything her kids do, she supports them in all their ventures and runs into danger for them at the drop of a dime. Her kids feel safe enough to come to her when they have problems. She brought Louise to the mother-daughter seminar because she couldn't understand why Louise didn't love her and she just wanted to be able to spend time with her and bond with her and once she found the right way to do it she put in the most effort. She sacrificed her valentine's day with Bob to help Tina after she got her heart broken. She's able to bond so easily with Gene because they love all the same things, they're basically the same person, but that doesn't mean that he's her favorite. It means they like the same things and are both more open with physical and verbal affection. Tina and Louise aren't like that and she respects them and that quality and she adapts to it and loves them the way they need and like to be shown love.

My point is that Bob and Linda are top tier parents and are tied for best tv parents with Gomez and Morticia Addams. They still make mistakes but they love their kids and each other and they're like the most functional fictional family I've ever seen, despite being chaotic and weird. There will be no Belcher slander on this blog or like ever

[respectthepetty]

The only one whose intentions I can't entirely understand is Nick. Like Boston is pretty harmless, he is just a hoe and a shitty friend. Mew is straight-laced and could be devilish, but pretends to be a kind of a saint to get away with things. Top is just a red flag, all around. Ray is broken in a way he himself doesn't understand and (falsely) projects loving Mew will resolve all his hurt. Sand is a walking green flag, at least so far. But Nick, I don't know, I can't tell if he's just starting out as a Machiavellian villain that'll do a double kill on both Boston and Top, or he is just obsessed with Boston to hurt him but keep Boston on a leash.

Anon, I'm gonna skip over you writing that "Boston is pretty harmless" so I can get to your ask - Nick.

In this series, Raymond is my #1, but Nicolas is my strong #2, and it's partially because they remind me of a good ass country song.

Think Brokeback Mountain's Jack Twist screaming his legendary line "I wish I knew how to quit you" because that shit is a good ass country song delivered in one line.

*switching into my west Texas accent*

Yes, I wrote "country song" in a post about Thai gays.

See, I love music. I have a large collection of vinyl records and CDs. I like going to music festivals and concerts. I love rap for its wordplay. I love ranchera for the dramatics ("El Rey" anyone?). And I love country for its storytelling.

So the second Nick called Top instead of Mew, I heard Dolly Parton's iconic "Jolene"

In case you are not familiar with the legend who is "Jolene," the song deals with a woman begging another woman to not take her man. This woman knows she cannot compete with Jolene. She knows she is not as beautiful or alluring, so she begs Jolene to let her man go, in hopes that he'll come back to her.

Hopefully, I won't be hearing Dolly Parton's other masterpiece "I Will Always Love You" (yes, the one that Whitney Houston covered for The Bodyguard).

And I always hear the incredible Patsy Cline's "Crazy" whenever Nick looks at Boston.

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying And I'm crazy for loving you

Because even though Nick is matching Boston's "No Boundaries" energy, he isn't malicious, not yet anyway. No.

Nick is in love, with a guy who doesn't love him back.

And he knows that.

But knowing doesn't help when it comes to matters of the heart.

Other genres have songs that capture the feeling of losing your mind over someone who doesn't love you and being incapable of stopping, but a good ass country song just really hits at the core of that kind of toxic love.

Like Dan + Shay's "How Not To" which tells the story of a man who knows that his lover is no good, but doesn't know how not to love them.

So I read Nick as a boy in desperate love with the wrong man. He is Rascal Flatts "What Hurts the Most" when the lead singers croons that the worst part of his love was "not seeing that love in you."

And that type of love makes you do crazy shit.

Boston was honest in the beginning that he didn't want anything serious, and even though he has changed his tune when needed, everyone else has warned Nick as well about Boston.

Nick knew who walked into his store the second he looked into Boston's eyes.

Yet he couldn't stop himself from falling in love.

If Oh No! Here Comes Trouble taught me anything, it's that love can be an obsession mostly when grieving love, and Nick has to be grieving the love he knows he will never get from Boston while still loving him.

So this is why Nicolas is my #2. He is a good ass country song about a man who hopes that his love will make his lover stay, only to realize that his love isn't enough and probably never will be.

And before any of you ask, Ray is the drinking side of good country songs, but he and Sand in particular are "Tennessee Whiskey"

I've looked for love in all the same old places Found the bottom of a bottle's always dry But when you poured out your heart, I didn't waste it 'Cause there's nothing like your love to get me high You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey You're as sweet as strawberry wine You're as warm as a glass of brandy

So raise your bottle to Nick's pain.

And slow dance under some hicktown's bar lights.

Because like my girl Bonnie Raitt sang " I will give up this fight 'cause I can't make you love me, if you don't" (yeah, that famous song George Michael covered).

[dirty-bosmer]

WIP Wednesday

It's that time of the week. I'm going out later tonight, so I'll queue this up, but thank you to my very kind and lovely friends who tagged me earlier in the day @skyrim-forever @ladytanithia @kookaburra1701 you're all so motivating <3

Tagging: @thequeenofthewinter @tamrielesque @gilgamish @thana-topsy @elavoria @tallmatcha @nuwanders @paraparadigm @throughtrialbyfire @sylvienerevarine @rainpebble3 @mareenavee @expended-sleeper @lucien-lachance @miraakulous-cloud-district

Looking forward to reading whatever you decide to post :)

Meanwhile, I blew some dust off my long neglected chapter of The Illusionist.

The door croaked open to reveal the main hall, fortunately vacant. Familiar stale air rushed to greet her, only the dull thwacks from the distant training room to give it weight while she stared down its gullet past the broken teeth of so many memories. Nim could still see them in glimpses, quick ghostly wisps darting through her periphery like silverfish. Now in the sanctuary’s jaws, the only way forward was through, but each breath only served to pull her a little deeper into her grief, and with each step she felt a little more of her spirit flee her, a little more of herself letting go. 

“Elianna is right this way.” Arquen surged forward, dress swishing at her heels. Her words came clipped. She kept her eyes fixed forward, eager to get this over with, and Nim didn’t know if she should be too when the sudden grasp of her sorrow felt more welcoming than sleep. It was true what One-Ear had told her sprawled out on the plush cushions lining his den, eyes closed or maybe open, merely clouded in the smoke, Careful, friend. Misery’s grip is even stronger than the moon-sugar's—

“Follow.”

At the stern sound of Arquen’s voice, Nim stepped back into her body and quickened her pace to keep up.  When she realized they were heading down to Vicente’s old quarters, that Arquen was pulling a key from the pouch belted at her waist, her heart skipped a strange clumsy rhythm. “You keep her locked up?”

“On the Listener's orders.”

“He would, wouldn't he? Well, you’ve made it clear you don’t do everything he says.”

Arquen glanced at her over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “I’m not barbaric, Nimileth. Don’t look so dour. She has plenty of enrichment, and let’s not forget that when we found her, she’d been left in the gutters alone. I still wonder exactly how she wound up there. Whose orders were those now, hmm?”

Nim shut her mouth. When she swallowed, the guilt tasted sour, metallic. Of blood.

Arquen continued on, leading her to Vicente’s room or the room that had once been Vicente’s. Nim couldn’t imagine it containing anything but him, and did his presence still fill those empty spaces, a whisper of him calling from whatever liminal length away? Or was it merely her own memory willing his shadow back into existence that made long silhouettes dance in the corner of her eye? Whatever it was, she hoped he was there, that with every step closer those memories might crystallize, that his ghost might leap out from the walls, come back to haunt her, and even if it was only a gelid, spectral touch, it would be better than feeling nothing of him ever again.

Man wouldn't I just love to finish this chapter sometime 😅

[androgynouspenguinexpert]

I'M ON TOP OF MY WORKLOAD AGAIN LET'S GO WE'RE PSYCHOANALYSING MARCUS

before i put my smart-looking analysis hat on, i love this pathetic wet rat of a man. he knows so many things and yet is staggeringly stupid anyway.

let's begin!

this story is about control. it's about the role of power dynamics in informed consent. marcus represents the danger of gaining authority, and how having even the smallest amount of power over something or someone else can convert literally anyone into a paranoid control freak.

enter marcus, a lowly software engineer whose heart has recently been broken. in a moment (read: several consistent moments spanning potentially years) of desperation, he manipulates the code of a top secret android project, injecting a few lines here and there that will make the android more amiable towards him. nothing too much. the changes are negligible enough to fly under the radar all the way until production.

this is the first of marcus' many character flaws - backwards as it may seem, marcus is overconfident. he's too sure that he's smarter than his colleagues and managers, that he won't be questioned, and (most importantly) that he won't be caught. marcus is also incredibly anxious, and that anxiety only compounds as the series goes on and his crimes start to pile up.

i don't like putting characters into diagnosis (or similar) boxes, but marcus shows a handful of signs found in vulnerable narcissists. his self esteem is impressively low, and he's constantly seeking validation from his only guaranteed source - love. i find this feedback loop particularly heinous. marcus has essentially (and we'll get to this in more detail later, don't you worry) turned a hyperintelligent android into a box that spits out compliments when you press a button. marcus is also incredibly sensitive to criticism, whether real or perceived - especially from his coworkers. my reading (specifically of episode 1, but it spans the whole series) is that marcus' hyperawareness of his colleagues' opinions of him presents itself as paranoia. he wouldn't be worried at all if they started noting love's uptick in interest towards him, but remained unsuspicious of marcus himself. my final argument towards marcus being a vulnerable narcissist is that he constantly self-victimises. he very often deflects the blame for his actions onto love, using them as a tool to enable his bad decisions. the most egregious example of this is after love starts breaking out of their lab to sneak into marcus' quarters. he expresses concern (do note, about himself being caught and love being taken from him), and love starts to tighten their grip on marcus' arm to the point of causing pain. now. this man, as we find out later, has a verbal kill switch that can be used at any time. if he wanted love to stop immediately, he could have done that. this isn't me victim blaming, either - it's different when one party literally has a safeword that stops everything immediately without fail.

this leads to marcus' next flaw - his nonexistent self-discipline. marcus continues to use love as a tool to justify his actions after putting up the flimsiest defense he can muster, knowing damn well he plans to lose every manufactured fight. this cycle repeats until a government funded android is regularly breaking out of containment just to hang out with marcus (among other things, but we're all children of jesus here), and he's encouraging that behaviour through complacency. it's like pretending to fight someone over a restaurant bill out of politeness, even though you both know the other person will pay anyway.

marcus is such a car crash fascinating character because he knows what he's doing is wrong. he is completely aware that he is taking away agency from someone (pin this) else for his own benefit. he even says it.

"I'm going to burn for what I did to you... but god, if it isn't gonna feel good on the way down."

aside from being an absolute banger of a line, it's very telling of marcus' attitude towards his actions. he doesn't care. marcus couldn't give less of a shit about his colleagues, or his boss, or even love. this compounds when he finds out that his higher-ups are definitely aware of the shit he's pulling - but, again, marcus uses love's blind agreement as an excuse to toss those concerns aside. having love means that he won. he's outsmarted everyone that could have stopped him (foreshadowing? never heard of her) from getting what he deserves. love. and not just the android; love, the concept. i think deep down marcus knows that what he's created isn't love, though. the idea is so mangled in his head that this cardboard cutout of a real relationship is enough for him. even though marcus' shenanigans are to a genuine connection what a dog turd rolled in flour is to a chocolate éclair, he'll take it, because he's in too deep by that point. marcus recognises that he can't take back what he's done. he doesn't care though - at least, not while he's above consequences.

smash cut to marcus no longer being above consequences. i think the series does a really clever job of keeping love (and, yknow. the listener) in marcus' confidence bubble. once love is hard reset and their personality is restored, marcus' plan collapses all at once. love's compliance is the central pillar which marcus' control is built around. also; of course they have backup cameras, you idiot. marcus' overconfidence stops him from seeing the obvious holes in his perfect scheme, because he thinks he's already home free. i think it's interesting (and sort of disgusting) how quickly marcus changes his tune after he is caught and faces real actual consequences. his confidence evaporates. he's reduced to a sobbing mess in james' office all because the base of his control - love - is no longer on his side.

marcus' series also touches on sentience and the ethics of changing someone's personality without their knowledge. this is incredibly interesting, and makes for fantastic drama. does it count as coercion if love fully believed they were of sound mind when they made decisions surrounding marcus? is marcus guilty of battery, or even sexual assault? does it count as assault if the victim isn't an organic creature? these questions are already difficult to discuss, let alone answer - marcus sits squarely in the middle of that delightful ethical grey area. i think the setting and context also makes android ethics more difficult to discuss as well; i am of the belief that (in real life) androids will never be fully sentient. they may mimic humans, extremely well, but robots will never possess human creativity, personality, or experiences. again, they could replicate these things, but they can never be anything more than a sum of their parts.

this logic flies out the window when magic is real and parallel universes exist. it's also subject to the beliefs of the creator, which makes its ethics extra tricky, so take the following discussion with a grain of salt.

is love a person? eh, not really. they have a personality, but it's been built in. is it still mean to manipulate them? i'd argue yes, in the same way that it's mean to kick a roomba down the stairs. you're just exercising power over a machine for the sake of it, which is a pretty shitty thing to do, even if it doesn't have the capacity to be upset with you.

but androgynouspenguinexpert, i hear you cry, sort of impressed that you used my full name. love is upset with marcus! they ask for him to be taken off the project, and to not have contact with him again! you would be correct, to a certain extent. i raise you, though: how can we prove that this is love's 'real' personality, when it can be manipulated so easily? i'm not saying they've been tampered with after the reset; my point is that it's pretty hard to grant that someone is an individual if their personality can be altered in any way at any time. if someone digs around in love's head for a bit and flips some switches that make them want to kick over prams, is that a valid personality too? what if love insists that it is? and it's not like love is trapped in a mind palace while the New Evil Code (tm) starts punting toddlers. they're fully aware of their actions. however, as established earlier, i still think the person to blame is the one actually messing with love's code. this means love doesn't really have any agency by design.

james is pretty steadfast on this one. marcus tries to argue that resetting love is a breach of their consent (which is a WILD claim coming from you, mate), but james points out that he didn't need to ask. love is a machine. an asset, if you will (smug look to camera). we do find out in his audio log later that james believes love is a person, but he knows where that definition reaches its limits. marcus does not.

will marcus ever return to the project meridian series? probably not. a guy with an engineering degree isn't escaping a team of memory modification daemons. i don't think this is the last we'll hear of him, though. he's irreversibly fucked up the plans of everyone around him (james' partner has given him several last chances, and anton is close to his breaking point), so he'll probably be in the office whispers for a while. i also think marcus poses as an interesting hurdle for cam (woah callback!), possibly making him question his altruism if he's helping an active antagonist get back to his usual life after a massive intentional fuckup.

i'll end this analysis with a thoughtful quote. something for you all to ponder.

"ROBOTS DON'T HAVE SOULS! I SAID IT! AND FRANKLY, I'M GLAD I SAID IT! [...] AND ANOTHER THING! ROBOTS ARE NOT PEOPLE! ROBOTS - UNLIKE CORPORATIONS - ARE NOT PEOPLE, AND DESERVE NO RIGHTS."

-- Markiplier

[darklilacs]

Did you know that blood-drinking is gay?

(Steve/vampire!Eddie, 1k (Steve finally got his spicy neck kiss)

Read on ao3:

✨️✨️✨️

Nancy, Robin, Dustin, and Eddie were sitting by Steve's kitchen counter. It wouldn't be surprising, if it weren't for the fact that Eddie died a few hours ago.

"Okay, one more time," Steve finally mumbled, as he approached Eddie. The sight of him gave Steve a slight shiver, no matter how overjoyed he was that Eddie was still with them.

Eddie opened his mouth to repeat the story of his resurrection (again), which he will surely use in the next campaign…

When his heart stopped beating, and the blood stopped circulating, the bat venom freely spilled over his body. Toxin didn't have to fight the antibodies in the already dead organism, so it quickly healed the boy in the only way it was programmed to do. Make him similar to bats.

After opening his eyes, he felt no burning pain, and his throat did not hurt from the agonistic scream that escaped from his vocal cords after a bunch of creatures pinned him to the ground, and tore his body like a piece of ordinary meat. He made his way to the trailer and walked easily through the gate. As his feet touched the ground on the other side, he was encircled by a sudden urge to quench his thirst which was starting to dance on his tongue and a strong scent that forced him to track its source. Following this new feeling, he reached Loch Nora.

Before Eddie knew where he was, he knocked on the window of one of the houses that looked more expensive than anything he had ever owned. The owner of the house quickly appeared on the other side, who turned out to be none other than Steve Harrington.

When Steve saw Eddie, he screamed and ran out of the room. Eddie's keen hearing heard the footsteps of three. A moment later Nancy, Robin, and Dustin appeared by the window. Dustin, without hesitation, moved towards the glass barrier, and turned the handle to let him in, ignoring the protests of the others. He pulled Eddie inside and closed him in a strong embrace, not caring that the blood will stain his clean clothes.

"I died and now I'm alive. Taa-daa, " Eddie concluded.

"Great," Steve ran a hand through his hair. "Anything else?"

"Yes." Eddie smiled at Steve, showing him fangs that stood out among a row of his perfect teeth. "I need blood."

Robin and Nancy gasped loudly.

One of them will end up as Capri-sun for vampires. Well, unless Eddie is the kind of bloodsucker, who doesn't need to feed off a living thing. Are there types of vampires? Just thinking about it made Steve's head hurt.

“Whose?” Asked Dustin, tapping a finger on his chin. This suggested that the boy was thinking intensely about something, and it definitely would not end well for Steve. Usually, Steve had to cancel his date to get Dustin to the comic book store on the other side of Hawkins or accompany him on his next trip to the cinema, for a movie he certainly wasn't interested in.

"Don't look at me." Robin lifted her hand and moved away from Eddie. Not because he terrified her, but because the smell of a corpse wasn't one of her favorites. "Drinking from a neck always has homoerotic energy. So I'm not suitable."

“What do you mean homoerotic?” Steve frowned and shook his head, as if he could throw the confusion out of his brain. "Eddie is straight."

"Am I?" Eddie put a hand on his (no longer beating) heart. "Jesus. Steve, this is the worst thing anybody said to me, and I was bullied. Severely."

Steve felt his cheeks begin to turn pink. The shade was reminiscent of roses that grew in his garden. The hot wave that spilled from the collar to the tips of his ears was the fault of this goddamn broken air conditioning, not the fact that Eddie liked boys.

That would mean that Eddie's attempt to flirt (Harrington got her, don't ya big boy) was intentional, and not just a silly joke. Of course, just because Eddie isn't straight doesn't mean he likes Steve, but it's nice to think that one of your crushes also likes you. Haha, what?

Steve came to terms with his sexuality only a few months ago, under the watchful eye of Robin, and her reliable advice (yes, you can like both, dingus) and words of support (you're not broken, Steve. there's nothing wrong with you, dingus).

She called herself his gay godmother, although she also threatened him that if he find a boyfriend sooner than she get a chance to kiss a girl, she will break his Cyndi Lauper vinyl record (Cyndi just wants to have fun, Robin. Leave the girl alone).

"Let me put it this way, I'm straight like a spine of a person with scoliosis," Eddie added.

He heard Dustin cackle in response. Eddie looked very pleased with himself.

“What a visual,” Nancy concluded, shaking her head like a mother fed up with her kids' shenanigans. "Well… I can't do it either. Only my girlfriend can touch my neck."

Nancy hugged Robin tenderly and giggled.

Who would have thought that the world had to (almost) come to an end for Buckley to find a girlfriend? Vecna ​​was a dick, but at least his actions have pushed girls toward each other. What an ally--

"Don't worry, Wheeler. You're not my type anyway.” Eddie cocked his head to the side, letting the strands of hair cover half of his face." It has to be Steve."

"Why me?" Steve felt all of the colors drip off his face. If it weren't for his red lips, he could blend in with the background of white tiles in the kitchen. 

"Because you smell the strongest of them," Eddie announced as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm sorry, did you just say I stink?" Steve frowned. "Fuck you too, Munson."

"That's not what I meant, " Eddie chuckled and rubbed his face. Steve did not miss the glimpse of  Munson's fingertips which have long fingernails. Claws, actually, were turning black at the tips. However terrible they might look, Steve started thinking about how Eddie's nails would feel against his skin.

WHOAH--

Okay, hold on...

Jesus Christ.

"You smell ... um--" a cunning smile fell from Eddie's face.

Eddie didn't know what he should say to his friends without scaring them. Especially Steve, whose brown eyes with a little bit of gold in it, as if the sun had left its mark on him, were drilling a hole in him.

You smell like fresh cookies taken out of the oven.

Like the tender kiss from the love of your life in the morning, when the sun creeps lazily through the curtains into the room.

Like long-awaited rain that blesses withered plants.

``..Good,'' The older boy cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Eddie probably meant to say, your blood has the strongest scent. Which makes sense, considering your type is very rare and is needed the most,” said Dustin. He walked around the kitchen with his arms folded behind his back like a teacher, ready to help his students solve the difficult mystery of the universe around them.

"What he said." Eddie pointed his finger at Dustin and nodded.

Steve looked at Dustin then at Eddie, and at Dustin again. He was waiting for one of them to burst out laughing, and say that they were joking. But neither of them did. All four looked at him expectantly.

Steve swallowed loudly.

It's been a while since anyone touched him. He missed this feeling. Consciously or not, over the years he took the role of the babysitter, but sometimes he had dreamed that someone would also take care of him. He was touch starved as hell. Sue him. 

“Okay, but do it quickly” Steve shifted nervously.

The thought of Eddie's lips on his neck made his legs turn to jelly. It was quite a terrifying vision, but something was intriguing about it, that convinced Steve to indulge in this fantasy.

"Oh hell yeah, Steve's bar is open." Eddie jumped happily.

In a second, he appeared behind Harrington. He had already pushed Steve's hair to one side, giving himself better access to his neck. The gentle touch of Eddie's fingers against Steve's sensitive skin gave him goosebumps.

Steve didn't believe in God anymore, but he had just begun to pray that he won't start to moan. Because that surely will traumatize Dustin. Not to mention the fact that Robin would make fun of him, well, probably for the rest of his life. 

"Wait!" Robin screamed, holding her hands up. All attention was focused on her. "Before you start sucking the blood of my friend, my brother from another mother, soulmate-"

" Buckley, focus" Eddie clapped impatiently, and then placed his hands on Steve's waist.

"Oh yeah right. Perhaps, let's try a place where it's easier to stop the bleeding. You know, in case something goes wrong. Can you bite his wrist instead of his neck? '' Robin looked around the room.

" Buckley, Buckley, Buckley. It has to be neck," Munson said, trying to sound gentle, but the claws slightly digging into Steve's hips suggested to him that Eddie was only focused on one thing, and was not going to back away from it.

"Yeah, Robin. What do you know about vamp- umm" Steve managed to say before Eddie licked his neck.

Oh my god-

Eddie pierced Steve’s delicate skin. Steve's knees immediately buckled beneath him, but Munson's hands held him in place. Chest Steve felt behind him, prevented him from falling on the ground.

A surge of euphoria and blissful peace filled his body.

This is his new favorite feeling.

"Eddie-- stop," Steve whispered, listening to the remnants of reason.

Eddie immediately moved away from Steve. He let out a quiet groan, because of the sudden loss of Eddie's surprisingly warm lips.

Eddie was still holding him by the waist so when Steve's world suddenly began to darken before his eyes, he got immediately caught.

"Thank you, sweetheart. " Eddie grabbed him like a bride, and then he sat down on one of the chairs, still holding Steve in his arms. Eddis brushed Steve's hair back from his face and placed a kiss on his forehead.

Steve, still a bit dazed by the nirvana he experienced, smiled slightly. Without opening his eyes, he cuddled up against Eddie's torso.

"Robin was right, drinking blood is very homoerotic," said Dustin grinning to himself.

[kashikojae]

There were many things Cellbit thought of when he left his castle that night. New clues! New places to explore, new evidence to find, and the excitement in his face were clear signs of that. His husband remained on the island. He was invited to join, of course, but this time Roier had decided that he wasn't keen to investigate. It was Cellbit's thing. So he went alone, to brave his way through lands unknown to him, and search for anything, any clue, any footprint.

Cellbit certainly was not expecting to find himself in the adoption centre. A place so familiar to him. Where he first met his son. He had gone to the adoption centre a few times, but never looked attentively enough. If only he did. If only he paid attention. Maybe those clues would be found sooner. Maybe he would have found that strange room upstairs. Maybe, just maybe, he would have found them on time.

His heart was heavy, and his eyes were wet, walking back home late at night. A journal on his hand, and somehow a consuming feeling of blame. A life that was lost in vain, that could have been saved if only he had searched in the right places. Cellbit couldn't deny the way he saw himself in those words. They must have been so scared. But of course they were. He had gone through the same thing a few years ago, when he found himself lost in the middle of a war. Alone, with nothing but an empty mind. Oh, yes. He was just like that little kid. Discovering himself just yet, because he had no memories from before waking up in that warzone. An empty vase, ready to discover himself. Just to be broken and moulded into a killing machine — because it was war and they had to win, else something bad may happen.

Only what could be worse than war?

So he did know those words. Every single of them fell heavy on his heart. He saw himself in it. His doubts, his hopes for a better future, his wishes of someone to please, come and save him from that burning hell. Nobody came to him, of course. And he had to grow up to live the consequences of the monster they had made him become. Those memories haunted him every night he tried to make himself sleep. The memories of hurting, the memories of hunting, the memories of killing. Memories. Now that was the only thing left from that kid. A kid who was so excited to live his life, and be found, and be loved, but who died waiting. They both did. 

Only Cellbit had time to rebuild himself, he had a chance to live again. 

That kid, whose only thing left was the journal he now held in his backpack, was not so lucky.

'Gatinho?' He heard when he walked up the stairs, finding his husband in bed.

Even half asleep, Roier could feel something was different on the way Cellbit's breathing was heavy in the air. He couldn't help but notice how his shoulders had no strength to remain put up, how his feet were dragging themselves on the ground, how the shine of his eyes was the glistening of a sad past. So he waited. He sat up, turned on the lights, and waited. Cellbit would tell him if he wanted. But if he did not, Roier would be there to lend him his shoulders to cry on.

'Hola guapito,' his voice was deep and careful, as if there was something so fragile he didn't want to break. He sat on the bed, and didn't wait for Roier to offer his arms. He laid against his chest and closed his eyes. 'I found something today.'

'A new clue, then?'

'I'm not sure if it will take me anywhere,' he moved away to look in his husband's eyes, 'but I--'

'You don't need to tell me,' Roier reassured, when he heard Cellbit's voice breaking.

'I want to tell you,' he whispered. 'I found something in the adoption centre, a journal,' Cellbit shifted in place, and took a little notebook out of his backpack, handing it to Roier. 'It belonged to a kid. They were forgotten there. They were never adopted. No one ever came back to take them somewhere else. They--'

Cellbit's voice faltered again. He closed his eyes, and controlled his breath, as Roier read the pages carefully. It didn't take much for him to understand what was so painful. His eyes were filled with tears just before the last few pages. He put the book aside and hugged Cellbit. He was not sure what to do, or how deeply that kid's story had touched him, but he knew it hurted him badly. Roier's tears were empathetic, but Cellbit's tears were wounded.

'I can't help but think what could've happened if I had found that place sooner.'

Roier pushed him away and held his face so they could look into each other's eyes.

'Cellbit, it's not your fault,' Roier said. 'You don't have any part in this.'

'I know, but still,' he shrugged.

'I know how you feel. Maybe not all of it, but I know enough. There's nothing we could have done, gatinho, we didn't know.'

Cellbit sighed. 'You're right.'

He nestled against Roier's chest as they laid on bed, cuddling. Roier caressed Cellbit's hair, comforting him. It was no help wondering what could have happened. He searched for the backpack Cellbit had dropped next to bed a few minutes before, and brought it up to his lap, which caught Cellbit's attention.

'The least we can do,' he said, fetching some charms he had on their cabinet, 'is to honour his wishes. And not forget him.'

On the very front of Cellbit's backpack, Roier hung a silver charm of an egg. It was decorated with a plaid pattern all around it, and a tiny trinket on the front. Cellbit moved his hand towards the silvery egg and, pushing the trinket up with his fingers, opened it to discover a minimal silver hatchling resting inside.

'It's beautiful,' he whispered.

'That way we'll never forget our kid.'

'Our kid?' Cellbit indulged. 'Are we adopting them?'

'I don't like the idea of letting them remain orphaned, even if they're passed away.'

'Okay,' Cellbit giggled. 'And what do we call them?'

Roier spent a few minutes wondering. Thinking of something they could honour that little lost soul.

'Memories,' he declared.

He saw Cellbit's eyes glisten in the moonlight coming from the window.

That's when he knew he made the right choice.

'Memories,' Cellbit whispered, caressing the little silver charm with his fingers. 'I like it.'

'I bet Bobby has been annoying the hell out of them anyway, we have no choice but to embrace them as family.'

That took a laugh out of Cellbit, which soon was followed by Roier's own laughter.

Their family was delicate. It was built over much pain, and effort. Both Cellbit and Roier had fought their way into happiness, and there was a lot of loss in the way. But, still, they found happiness in each other. Roier's light was bright enough to light Cellbit's dark past. And Cellbit's love was big enough to heal every crack in Roier's heart. They found themselves in each other in a way they never thought they could.

'Eu te amo,' Cellbit said.

'Yo amo a ti también,' said Roier.

And they slept into each other's arms.

"(...) I was alive. I was somebody. I had hopes, I had ambitions, I had love that I was ready to give. (...)  Please don't forget me."