#i just kept tearing up the past like day or so about the smallest things & now im like ohhh well of course now you say it

[windupaidoneus]

i can tell pms is happening & i dont like it

[hhighkey]

Cry-Baby // Phinks, one shot - part of hhighkey’s phantom troupe universe series

Rating: mature Story Contains: implied past kidnapping, emotional manipulation, possessive/overprotective tendencies, rough sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, overly sensitive / easy to manipulate reader, phinks is not the good bf reader thinks he is, reader is unaware of the troupe until halfway, panic attacks, anger issues Note: around 13.2k words, ao3 link: xxx , this one shot is a big expansion off the smut headcanon I did awhile ago for Phinks. This has references to my Uvogin oneshot 'Taken' as his partner is the Reader from that (she's unnamed), and my Feitan one shot 'An Ode to...' is referenced slightly. On ao3 I have these one hits in a series for like a ‘phantom troupe universe’ so there's some overarching themes / connections going on. which reading the others aren't needed tho if u don't want!

It didn't take much, the TV channels with the abandoned dogs or a too sappy book, even your favorite ice cream being sold out. You'd be tearing up, lash line wet and moist as tears slowly dripped down. A tightening in your sensitive chest as you desperately tried to stop the looming cries that always found their way out. 

Since the day a tall muscular, handsome  blonde in a tracksuit walked into your life, everything changed. At first overwhelming joy over the man who memorized your coffee order, brought you tulips after you said you liked them in passing. Even your elderly next door neighbor adored him and she was a tough nut to crack.

You weren't sure when it changed. Six months of spending time together, careful glances as you saw how Phinks had immeasurable strength yet he'd blush at the smallest of things that came to you. 

So when did your life take a hard right turn? Had it really been the moment you meant Phinks, or was it when you told him about your new job opportunity with relocation? You remembered the panic on his chiseled features, how he ran his thick fingers through his combed blonde locks. How your back hit the wall as he stood over you, apologies spilling from his lips and then black. 

Intense grief over your past life and sudden lack of freedom contributed to the constant tears of your already sensitive state. Did you necessarily care that the man you loved was insanely protective, not allowing you to leave his home? And that your poor, soft head never once considered it to be kidnapping? Once dreaming of the day he asked you out but now he wanted you by his side forever? Phinks tried his best, he really did, leaving the room if a fight got intense, body language the epitome of a dangerous man when angry. Even as his fists clenched in anger because you refused something. Let you yell at him. Let you have your moments to starve yourself just to spite him. But the man knew how to woo- from your favorite music to shows, to learning to bake with you. His hot temper and possessive tendencies meant little when he babied and cared for you every turn. 

One day, you supposed you'd just snapped that your relationship with Phinks was more important than being able to have a phone or shop on your own. Or perhaps you gave into the feelings that were already there before he took you. You just stopped fighting the claws of doubt that nudged at your mind that kidnapping someone was not normal, that you can't be with him now. That meant little once you finally pressed your lips to his out of the blue and his tense muscled melted against you. Once you remembered a book you read in school, an intense look into the life of a woman who had intense Stockholm Syndrome and the psychology into it. You cried and cried over the book. Mourned for the fictional character, but somehow, in a messed up way you kept finding yourself rooting for their love. Maybe that was a big reason the author wrote it. You didn’t believe your love for Phinks was based on a psychological abuse based bond.

Phinks took you because he feared he’d lose you, he’d apologized for his mistakes. He never got violent towards you when business went bad or you’d not communicated in a way he needed while traveling. And that was good enough for you. 

Oh you could not wait for him to get home, he'd called the landline this morning to let you know he was on his way. You could jump for joy, heart racing with every growing excitement, fluttering nerves as you'd cleaned the townhome all morning. 

You glance to the timer, the minutes ticked down to when your garlic butter pull-away bread would be done- Phinks’s favorite. Growing up, your mother always emphasized the importance of a clean home, of cooking and preparing a meal for someone after a long day's work. You hoped she'd be impressed with the life you had with Phinks. 

'Alright,' you smiled to yourself as a faint alarm went off. Grabbing the oven mitts, you pulled the perfectly golden loaf out and placed it on the cooling rack. Oven now off you left the kitchen to change. 

It was almost time for Phinks to arrive home. You’re too impatient by that point, keep looking at the clock in your bedroom. The scent of him that lingered on the pillow you liked to hug close was no longer comforting in his place. With a smile you wanted to dress up better, so you made your way to the closet to pick a dress. 

"Babe?" The front door to your shared townhome slammed shut. Phinks's voice carried up the stairs even though you heard him going towards the kitchen most definitely smelling the fresh bread. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, a gentle smile as you smoothed down your dress. It was a new one Phinks had given you with a blush, saying he saw it and figured you'd look cute. And seeing him so embarrassed made you giddy, excited for him to see you in it. 

And of course you'd let him know you missed him the last few days he'd been gone on a business trip.

"Hey, coming down." You called out, making your way to the stairs. You saw his bag dropped at the door with shoes discarded, mentally making a note to straighten them up. 

"There you ar-" Phinks stopped mid sentence as his gaze lasered on you, he always hated having you out of his sight, made him nervous. His pupils went big as they traveled along every inch of skin, raking in the dress that fit your body perfectly, "Shit you look good." 

"Think so?" You blushed, nervous as you gave him a little spin.

"Know so." 

Phinks wasted no time to grab your waist and pull you into him. He breathed in your scent as he peppered kissed onto the top of your head. He relished in how you squeezed him, nuzzling your face into his chest.

"Missed you." You whined before giving him your best puppy eyes, "You aren't leaving anytime soon again right? Been gone a lot lately and I hate sleeping alone."

"Aw baby," Phinks cooed, "You're adorable. Hate being away from you, you know that right?" 

You nod, enthused and burning with want. Liquid heat spreads throughout your core as his hands slyly inch closer, "I know." It never took long for Phinks to get you undressed and pliant beneath him, completely at his mercy. The feeling of his warm body encapsulating yours was intoxicating mixed with the smell of his cologne. Light kisses fanned your hot skin as he reclaimed your lips for the nth time, meshing into a feathery pure want. 

It was those kisses, how you found yourself stripped, panties discarded and the top of your dress pulled down enough to free your breasts, the skirt hiked up. His fingers dig into your hips and you think you’ll have bruises for days from how his hips had thrusted into your cunt for the last hour. Sounds of slapping skin still reverberated in your ears as beads of sweat littered his skin, muscles always flexing with every movement. 

"Oh baby," Phinks cooed as he stroked your cheek, fingers pinching and squeezing your wet stained flesh. 

You were a mess. Shaking hips and messy hair, eyeliner smeared under the waterline. Phinks had made you cum more times than ever already since got back and started with his head between your legs. So poor little you was a babbling mess with clouded, lust filled thoughts. 

Phinks preferred you this way, well-behaved and hazy, gasping for breath underneath him with your calves resting on his biceps. You're so dazed you barely notice how his thumb flicks to your sensitive clit making your lower body spasm,

"Oh!" you gasp as you see stars. And it's all becoming too much. How hot your body is, how untamable a fire within you is as your hips buck and knots tighten in your abdomen. "Too much Phinks!! Can't-"

And that's when your tears fall. As if all cords and knots snapped at once your mind glittered with pleasure- too much pleasure that it was painful. So much so that you let out an honest to god sob as pools of wetness stain your flushed cheeks. Phinks hips stuttered for a second, coming to a halt as he watched you cry with love in his eyes. The way you were a goddess underneath him, how your face contorted and with hips giving him perfect friction.

"Oh fuck baby- that's hot, keep fucking crying for me." Phinks pressed into you more as he spoke low like a threat, cock pistoning against your cervix as he abused your clit, his thumb determined to stay put as you squirmed. Seeing the puddles fall from your eyes made him shake, a shiver running down his spine. 

And tears fell faster from his words alone as your abdomen burned. You barely recognize the whines leaving your lips through sniffles and cries, and snot begins to drip. Your poor wrists burn from the rope that tied them to the bed frame, the helplessness turning you on even more. 

Phinks face was inches away as he loomed over you, his pupils blown wide as he grinned past his canines. He found it so fascinating how the tears rolled down staining the sheets around your head. Fascinating that he could give you, his pretty little girl, such pleasure like rapture that you were weeping. Your breath fanning across his face with desperate whimpers from the deep of your throat sent him over the edge. Each intake of air was a job in itself, ragged breathing as you clawed at any of his skin you could grasp. 

"Phinks! M' too full- too much-"

Phinks just grunts. Braced himself over you as he suddenly left you empty, just the utmost tip of his long cock inside your gummy walls. A cocky smirk danced across his face and chiseled cheekbones, utterly obsessed with you, twisted feelings in his chest. Your dilated irises, fidgeting and thrashing figure from electricity that corrupted you- made him growl as tears continued to roll down your puffy cheeks. And how as he slammed his hips to yours- to the hilt- deeper- making a cry leave you as a bulge formed in the low plush of your abdomen- made the knots in his stomach begin to unravel. Liked how he could see himself in you- liked how as he pressed down on your tummy you shrieked and cried, begging him to stop as you came, feeling too full, too out of control. Squirt dribbled from your swollen hole as he wiped away at translucent liquid dripping down your face. Blank eyes. All empty on your fucked out face because of him. 

He fucked you through your nth orgasm, grunting and gasping as the squelching noises from your dripping, swollen cunt rang through the air. "You're my good girl aren't ya? Such a pretty baby crying while I fuck your tiny cunt. Gonna fill that greedy tight pussy, princess.”

You cried, nodding your head furiously begging him to cum inside you, as if you'd die if he didn't. 

"Yeah? Know you like it when I cum inside you- beg me- please- need to hear you." And just like that he fell apart. The side of Phinks only you ever got to see. So demanding, so rough, but just a lovesick fool for your crying form shoved full with his cock.

"Ah Phinks-" you were seeing stars, vision slowly going in and out as intense waves of pleasure took over you as your cunt squeezed the life from your lover's cock, "Love you Phinks—" you were babbling, rambling unable to speak straight, "I need you- inside me- m' my pussy needs you."

"Fuck." He grunted as his climax was raining down on him, "All mine, babe." Phinks saw white as he came, falling down on you as he shoved his face into your neck. His cock was to the hilt, shoved into your womb as you dry sobbed leaving deep nail marks on him. Your stomach expanding as his warm cum swarmed your insides, leaving you fuller than you'd been before. Gasping and hugging him close, legs wrapped around his waist so he couldn't leave you- not like he would. The way he nipped at your skin, sucking and nibbling along your collarbone and lower neck. How he ground his still hard and pulsing cock against your spasming walls that just sucked him in. 

His calloused hands soon came into contact with your face as he pushed up, adoringly staring down. He wiped away your loose tears earning him a tiny smile he so loved to see. 

"You always take me so well," and your chest soared as he kissed your forehead. You'd done well for him! His good girl! 

The tears soon dried completely as you'd find yourself in a warmed lathering bath- Phinks doting on your every move whilst unbeknownst to you, the faint sound of the news in the living room was talking about a specific criminal organization.

-

"Are you ready to finally meet Uvogin and his girl?"

You nodded ecstatically, "Yes, yes, so excited to meet her, no offense to Uvogin."

"Figured you would be, he won’t care he’s probably only comin’ for the food. Woulda loved to have you meet her a few months ago but her health was bad, Uvo wanted to make sure she was hundred percent before meeting new people. Some disease involving her lungs wasn't paying attention."

"I understand, that's scary." You hummed, kneading dough for its final stretching. Though you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's ability to relay information regarding others, "This needs another 45 minutes to sit and rise some more, then it can go in the oven."

"Which is my job right?"

"Yes don't want to burn myself." You purse your lips, "Feel like something's missing though."

"Like what?" Phinks wrapped his muscular arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"Don't know, maybe an ingredient?" You looked about your organized mess before a lightbulb went off in your head, "Oh, the fruit, can you get the cantaloupe out and cut it into cubes?"

"Yes ma'am." He kissed your head again before going to cut the fruit.

Boy did Phinks make cooking an extensive meal easier (though at first it was substantially harder by his lack of knowledge or experience). He’d handle anything too hot, he was better with knives, and no longer did you have to mix until an arm cramped. You liked the cute overly focused look that'd crease his brows and pursed his lips as he focused on a task you gave him. It warmed your insides at how dutiful he was towards you, how he enjoyed your girly hobbies as he’d call them. 

Time went by too fast whenever you cooked, and it felt as if you never left yourself enough of it. You cut it too close for comfort, the food ready a minute before the sound of the doorbell went off. You’re in the middle of bringing dishes to the dining room table as two new voices meet your ears. Not able to stop the growing but, still nervous as you brushed along your pink apron.

“Babe,” Phinks voice called out, “C’mere.” 

You obeyed as if on cue, “Hi.” As you walked from the open kitching to where they stood in the foyer, Phinks hugged you to his side. 

“Uvo.” Said the largest man you’ve ever laid eyes on with a large grin. And Phinks is stifling laughter as you look Uvo up and down with parted lips, head cocked to the side. Even the girl besides Uvo attempts to hold amusement too.

Uvogin introduced her to you, his fiancé, which had been news to Phinks. And earned him a glare for not knowing his friend got engaged when they recently moved right next door. The audacity of men. 

"Hi, I'm Y/N." You said, politely pulling the large man's partner in for a hug. Everyone was small compared to Uvogin you thought, but this woman had an aura to her that pulled you in as if the giant didn't exist. Her smile was so warm and she smelled of fresh rose and pine. You note she’s frail, remembering what Phinks said about her health, and you loosen your arms on her. 

“So,” You rub your hands together motioning for people to follow, “People hungry enough to eat?”

“I’m fuckin’ famished.” Uvogin helped his way to where the food sat out at the table; Different vegetables, cantaloupe, roasted lamb and a cinnamon loaf. From the corner of your eye you see his fiance scolding him as he tried to grab a piece of meat, and for a moment you felt a surreal sense of belonging. To see them seeing so content together, you hoped that was how you and Phinks came across, since interactions with others were so limited. 

You gave the table a final look as the three of them sat down, needing one last thing you moved to the kitchen. The sound of cell phones going off is easily recognizable as you grab napkins and a serving spoon. Glancing across the island you see Phinks typing away at his phone. A chime went off and then another. You watched as Uvogin and Phinks looked semi-annoyed scowling at the screens, “Huh.” Uvo muttered as he wrapped an arm over the back of his fiance’s chair. “What’s normally on Channel 5?”

“What?” She asked him, sending you an annoyed look that read ‘Men’ as you placed napkins around the circular table. 

“Dunno. Y/N could you grab the remote since you’re up?” Phinks asks.

“Of course, one sec, the remote is over there.” You say, padding over to the loveseat on the other side of the room where Phinks was watching something earlier. 

Clicking the TV on you find it was already set to Channel 5, immediately fixated on the news, showing pictures of a gruesome crime scene. Turning the volume up, your stomach drops at the banner flashing on the screen in red ‘Phantom Troupe Strikes Again: 35 Dead, 12 Missing.’ 

“Oh my god,” You say with a gasp taking in the horrid sight, “That’s horrible.”

As you glance to where the other three stand, you immediately notice the discomfort. Uvogin and his fiance are staring dead at Phinks, while Phinks fingers flex at his side unblinking, directed at you.

“What?” 

“She doesn’t know?” Uvo’s fiance asked in a hushed voice, you barely hear it. 

“Know what?” You move forward, while she stares at you with wide eyes, immediately looking down at her plate.

“Oh- uh,” Phinks stammered as he quickly got up to make his way to you, “Just that news has been all over, she probably assumed you knew. Pretty scary.”

What you can see of her, Uvo’s partner didn’t have the ability to play it off. She seemed as if mentally transported elsewhere as she played with her fingers. 

“We’re gonna get going...” Uvogin says abruptly. He shot Phinks a look and it makes you want to scream, feeling as if left out of one big joke.

“Turn that shit off.” Phinks is at your side faster than you’ve ever seen him move. You jumped back in shock, flinching from the dark look on his face. You’re frozen at the sound of the remote shattering against the wall. 

It’s then that Uvogin is dragging his girl out with none of the food yet to be touched, but you catch her lips moving your way, you think she’s mouthing- ‘It’ll be fine.’ Not that it comforted you. The front door slammed. And then there were two. 

Tension that could be cut with a knife. You inch away from him, gaze flitting from the now black screen of the TV to Phinks. Something tells you his outburst has to do with the news, why he always told you your soft brain couldn’t handle it. That he just wanted to protect you from bad things that’d make you cry. 

“Phinks?” He doesn’t respond; fists clenched as he stares downwards. A bulging vein on his forehead tells you this is serious. “Tell me what's going on, why did they seem nervous? Why’d they leave so quickly? Did I do something wrong?” 

“Thought I told you not to watch the news.”

“It was on when I turned it on Phinks, you were the last one who used it.”

“Shit.” He had been. He didn’t flip the stupid fucking channel or bother to remember which channel numbers lined up with which station. 

“Please be honest, you and Uvo were having a conversation with your eyes! I feel like an idiot being left out of this. Why did she say ‘I didn’t know’ when I brought up the Phantom Troupe? And what you responded with doesn’t add up.”

“You’re gonna hurt your brain thinkin’ so hard babe. Let’s drop it.”

“You broke the remote by throwing it against the wall, Phinks.” You place your hands on your hip, frustration bubbling in your chest. “That was uncalled for especially in front of guests.”

“Fuck.” Phinks breathes heavy into his hands before pressing them against his forehead, “Fuck!” 

You step back, swallowing hard. His outburst has your brow lining in sweat, terror pulsing at the back of your mind.

“Phinks?” The watergates opened as fat tears fell down your cheeks, “Y-you’re scaring me.” 

You think he’ll comfort, explain it and take your fears away. But he doesn’t. 

“Y/N.” His eyes look as if they’re screaming for your forgiveness. Slowly, Phinks tugs off his sweatshirt. Suddenly you felt as if the room increased a hundred degrees, you’re too hot, feeling like you’ll choke from the dense air. Then he strips off his shirt, “You know how I keep this covered, told you it was an embarrassing scar?” You nod. “It’s a tattoo.” 

“Tattoo of what?” You whisper. 

You were never bothered by the fact he kept a bandage-like piece on his right shoulder blade. You assumed it was so personal that eventually he’d open up. Because you trusted him. 

But as his fingers peel it off, you catch sight of black ink. 

A black spider with a number 5 inked in the middle stares back. 

An incessant ringing blares in your ears. You’d heard of that tattoo, that it signifies the person is a spider, a fearsome thief of the underworld. A member of the Phantom Troupe. An urban legend your mom once told you about so you wouldn’t sneak out with a boy at 15, that you only recently learned was true. 

“You’re- when you leave for work… What is it you do again? And don’t say some business- Tell me.” You say between your dry heaves, your sobs as you furiously wipe away tears. 

“I’m a member of the Phantom Troupe babe, one of its founding members.”

Your head is spinning, legs wobble as you lose your balance. Phinks hurries to catch you as they give out, placing you on the couch, between your legs. But you push at his head and squirm back to get away. Shying into the couch cushions as you stare at him, eyes red. 

“I- Don’t play with me. Please tell me you aren’t in that group! You can’t be.” 

“Baby-”

“Don’t touch me.” You spit venom in your words as you rip your wrist from his grasp, holding it to your chest.

“Y/N this doesn’t change the fact I love you, doesn’t change anything here for us. Shouldn’t it prove to you that my vows to protect you are legitimate, that I’m strong enough to do so?”

“That’s your attempt to convince me?” It won’t stop, the downflow of tears and the running snot you wipe at. Your words turn to pathetic blubbering. "You.. kill people?"

Phinks nodded, huffing into his hands. The man is panicking, his chest tight with knots when all he wanted was to pull you into his arms. He considered forcing you down so he can explain, maybe fuck you so you feel good easily compliant. He needs you to give him a second, needs you to stop asking questions. 

"Uvogin? Is he a member? Feitan too?”

“Yes.”

Fuck. Your world’s collapsing, you’re certain of it.

“D-Did he kidnap his fiancé too? Did Feitan kidnap his girlfriend as well?"

"Baby it's complicated, and well Feitan hasn't exactly made her his- Shit... Saying it like that sounds bad but-"

"It is bad! I-I forgot? I swore I was here because I realized there wasn't anything for me at home.. I loved you and.. Do you actually love me?" Your eyes welled with tears, sudden realization came back over you. You grieved for past life once, how did you forget that?

"Baby I do love you, you're safe with me, promise. It's me."

"You're a murderer." You emphasized, horrified and unable to push yourself against the wall anymore if you tried, "How many people had their lives ruined because of the Phantom Troupe?"

"I.. don't know. A lot."

Conflicting emotions wash over your fragile mind. The man who crouched a foot away from you looked as if his world was shattering down around him, like he was terrified to lose you. Yet he was a thief, a killer, and you realized he wouldn't let you walk out that door regardless of what you decided.

"You lied to me. I don't know who you are."

"Y/N fuck, it's me, promise nothing about who I am is a lie, only my occupation. I love you, I'd do anything for you." You flinched as he moved to sit in front of you on the edge of the couch, taking your face between his palms even as you flinch, "You're safe with me, I promise."

"Phinks..." You sniffled, "I.." At the end of all things, did that matter? What Phinks did for a living? He'd been nothing but a loving, supportive partner. The whiplash hurts. Your chest felt heavy, your breathing was too heavy as if your air was cut off. You think you’re going to pass out as you reach for him, eyes blinking furiously. 

"Baby? Shit." He pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back in soothing circles, "Breathe for me, yeah? In. Out." You follow his orders, "Good girl, see?" 

One deep breath after another and you regained your senses, his eyes boring into you. 

"I need space tonight." You whimpered. 

"Yeah, that's fine, I know you need to think."

You rubbed your arms, "I'm going to lay down to sleep, alone tonight. If you could please clean up the kitchen and table."

"I-" Phinks went to argue, no way in hell would he let you sleep without him while he was home. But he knew he needed you to have time to think, even if it were an illusion or lie because he'd join once you were asleep. Paranoia was heavy in his mind, ever growing as he thought of her without him. Even not knowing what she was thinking was close to setting him over the edge. But he loosened his imaginary grip and nodded, "Of course."

Your home moved by you as if you were a zombie, legs heavy as lead as you closed the door to the master bedroom. Locking it. Then unlocking it. 

Sobs choked out. You clamped your hand over your mouth. Your legs gave out, back slid down against the door as your butt met the ground with a huff. Tears flooding once more, you let out a broken wail into your palms as you shoved your face into your flesh. Hugged your knees to your chest as painstaking agony pierced your limbs. You're gasping for air. Begging for a sense of relief. Crying that it hurts so bad. 

You could feel Phinks's aura on the other side of the door after fifteen minutes, knowing he was sitting with his back against the wood the same as you. An unknown force had you wanting to shove your fingers under the door to get a touch of him, wanting to already fling the door open and collapse into him. Were you really that pathetic? Already compartmentalizing the fact the man you loved was a killer? When Phinks had told you about his upbringing it'd pulled your heart strings, having to survive with no parents, no money, no home? How uncanny that his hints slowly made sense. Could you... even blame him?

Groaning through your heavy gasps as you couldn't stop weeping, you felt light headed. You sucked in air far too sharp that had you spinning, ready to topple onto your side.

With wobbly legs you force yourself to stand, clumsily making your way over to the king sized bed. Collapsing atop you stare off at the wall, wetness falling down to your eyes, to your mouth, dripping down your neck. Oh it hurts. How your head began to pulse with heavy stabs up against your temple. Lips quivered. You pulled the blankets tight letting your fingers twist and tangle within them, needing anything to ground you. 

Two questions spiraled. Would you really face the reality of your situation and that leaving a man like Phinks was smart? Or would you stay because you loved him? It alarmed you how easily you were willing to ignore Phinks was in the Phantom Troupe, that you'd already forgiven him. Forgive him? No, no, it wasn't you he needed to convince it was those he affected... which, deep down, you were glad he'd taken you. Because your kidnapping gave you a beautiful partner and life! Maybe you should tell him that! 

So as exhaustion and confusion overtook your trembling form, you were plunged into a restless sleep. One that played the same nightmare on repeat, the cycle of meeting Phinks to the kidnapping, to your life together, and to now. Stuck at a crossroads of swirling doubt manifesting in dark fog that would only come to fruition if you made a choice. Your dream-self, your heart, wanted to be selfish, wanted to head down the path to Phinks no matter what. While your brain told you it'd make you complacent, that it'd be ridiculous to stay with a man like him. That one day maybe you’d become a victim in the crosshairs. Before the morning sun streamed unto you forcing you awake, your dream-self chose a path. 

-

When you opened the bedroom door, stomach fluttering with thousands of butterflies that made you want to puke- to your surprise Phinks fell back, woken and onto his feet in seconds. He'd fallen asleep against the door, respected your decision to sleep alone which tugged on the depths of your heart. 

Gazes locked and it was a battle of who'd speak first, though you hoped he'd leave the ball in your court. Phinks looked... scared? His eyes low, heavy bags beneath them. You desperately wanted to brush his messy hair back, to reprimand him not to sleep on hardwood! And you almost reached up but caught yourself, he glanced down to your hand.

"I.." You wonder how bad you look. Wonder how bloodshot your eyes are, how puffy your face is. And if he noticed, "Lets talk?"

Phinks grunted his answer. He wasn't always a man of many words, it took months for him to be more open, so you'd hate for him to shut down on you now. 

You followed him downstairs, taking your places on the couch, an awkward space in between how your bodies turned to face the other. Phinks wanted to scoop you up to take all your troubles away, wanted to pepper your face with kisses until you'd cry of laughter. Didn't like how far you felt, a foot feeling like a mile. Even being able to hold your hand would have helped the torrential storm that raged within him; fear so strong he thought he couldn't breathe last night until he passed out in front of the bedroom. Like losing a piece of him that only you could complete.

You'd made up your mind that morning. 

Staring at your fingers you tell yourself it would be okay, that you could tell him everything you wanted to get out.

“I have a lot to say.”

“Alright.” His voice sounds strained as he cracks his knuckles, never breaking eye-contact.

“You know, I’m still mad you kidnapped me and won’t let me have contact with anyone I used to know.” Phinks eyes became unreadable, his jaw tense, fingers flexing as if it was the only way to push his anger away. “I told you about my new job opportunity way back when because I wanted to see if you’d want to come, which now I know wouldn't have worked. But also to see if you’d ask me out and give me a reason to stay, I knew after you took me on that garden tour even though you were clearly uncomfortable, that I’d fallen for you. It’s weird after all this time I never told you that.” Seeing the tension that’d built within him start to evaporate, eased your churning stomach. He looks better, suddenly getting back color in his cheeks, chest inhaling a large breath.

You continue, “I think.. I think I had and continue to have a hard time because my heart knows I’ve always loved you, but my brain wants me to keep remembering you technically kidnapped me, and that’s a horrible thing for a partner to do. That even now you’re dangerous to an extent I may never understand since you’re a spider. That you could hurt me one day. I register the anger in your eyes on phone calls, I see how often you flex or crack your fingers to stay sane if I did something you didn’t agree with. There’s cameras in every room. You’d monitored my body for weeks to make sure I wasn't self harming or losing weight. Had to sit in on all my showers. I remember hearing Feitan quip at you that you’re a hot head. I saw Uvogin’s fiance’s fear towards the news.”

Tears prick at your lash line as you attempt to wipe them away, sending Phinks the slightest of smiles you could muster, “And I now know it’s because you're scared something will happen to me because you've seen horrible sides to our world. You are a piece of that horrible side, the Phantom Troupe… You and your friends are considered a giant threat. Anyone who’s capable of the things you all are, have to have something off in the head, I’m sorry to say it like that. So I understand you now more than ever. But you’re still my Phinks. You rub my back at nights, you put things on a high shelf so you can laugh at me as I try to get it only to swoop in. You watch those horrible holiday romance movies because I love them and you’ll never admit you do too.”

“What are you saying?” He asked hoarsely. 

“I hope you don't want me to leave, I love you.” You say bashfully, pink dusting your cheeks.

Phinks never planned to let you leave. None of the outcomes in his mind consisted of it. But there you sat with a cute, happy face telling him you want to stay and be with him, thinking he was going to let you go if you asked. So Phinks lets out a sigh of relief knowing he doesn’t need to become the bad guy, he can let you think he’d have given you the autonomy to leave. Because you knew he loved you regardless of everything and you never considered other more darker options. You’re a softy, so innocent and naive, someone who cries at anything, and this further proves to Phinks you need him. 

The last two years this very conversation weighed on him. Knowing the day you found out about the Troupe your loving relationship would come to an end, you’d hate him. And then when he’d have to inevitably chain you up or threaten to break your legs to keep you from going anywhere, you’d despise him and yourself. You’d be petrified of him. 

But none of that was going to happen and Phinks is thanking whatever God is up there with his entire doomed soul. 

“I never want you to leave.” Phinks was across the couch, pulling you into a bruising kiss. His warm lips meshing with your own in a desperate dance as if one would disappear. A whine from the back of your throat made his heart race, made him melt like lava, all consuming that he couldn't stand the emotion that warbled through him. Like he could burst with the emotion of a thousand suns yet it still wouldn’t be enough to describe what you did to him. 

Before the kiss gets too intense to the point of no return as you feel your thighs rub together in want, you push at his shoulders. You stroke his cheek as you study his face memorizing each inch shaped from the gods themselves to you.

"I want you to tell me everything, okay. No lies, I want your real childhood, real everything that you changed to leave out the Phantom Troupe. And don’t hide the tattoo anymore."

"I can do that." He nodded fervently, squeezing your waist, “I love you with all I got, okay? Tell me you know that.”

“I do, I know.” You pull him in for a quick kiss, giggling as he attempts to deepen it, “Uh uh big guy. You have a lot of explaining to do before you get any of that.” 

He groaned, pressing a wet kiss to your neck, “I don’t know where to start babe.” 

“Well..” You think. “What do you… do? That’s not what I mean, so are you good with guns or something?”

“Ahh, I don’t think you understand Nen at all then if you’re askin’ that.”

“What’s Nen?” You cock your head, having zero idea what that three letter word meant. You hadn’t learned of it in school.

“Oh fuck me.” The mood he attempted to create to get your clothes off was ruined, but his genuine amusement makes him laugh, uncaring. He settled himself to get comfortable around your smaller frame, readying himself for a brutally open conversation with you. 

And as you two sat on the floor, Phinks relaying his story and the Phantom Troupes, you were glad you chose to stay even as you let him know you weren't happy every time he explained a heist. Because loving someone was the most important, at least you hoped that was enough. Because your heart couldn't fathom losing the blonde man who filled you, cared for you, protected you. You weren't sure if he'd survive losing you, or maybe it was the other way around. But you knew as he explained, that it didn’t matter at the end of the day, you wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not with the type of man he truly was with his work, dread consumed you, but you locked it away in the back of your mind.

-

MONTHS LATER

This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

One hand was shoved over your mouth, the other held to the wall for dear life. Your heart was in your throat as you listened to the different sets of footsteps outside. They’re talking but it wasn’t loud enough to hear, as much as you strained to listen. God you hoped they’d leave soon, decide this place was abandoned and move to the next. 

The day started out like any other, waking up besides Phinks, having to convince him to start the day by luring him into the shower. 

He attempted to make your coffee while you made pancakes. 

Then Chrollo called and the way his face dropped, you knew something bad had happened. The basis of newfound trust between you two was a fine line, probably would be for awhile. But for once you felt secure as he told you head on, he couldn’t tell you what was happening, because the stress he projected was more than usual. 

“Babe, why don’t we go out? There’s a farmer’s market on the other side of town, can find cute shit or something.”

“Really? Let me find something nice to wear!” 

Phinks held your hand as if he’d lose you in the crowd at any second. Even as you told him he needed to let up or else you wouldn’t have a hand for him to hold if he kept cutting off circulation. While the sudden outing was pleasant, you’d found a few fresh ingredients for cooking you had to have, Phinks was off. Knowing it had to do with his earlier phone call, you brushed it off.

While you hadn’t been to the market in quite some time, it’d never been this busy. Crowds of people pushed through to see the stall uncaring as they bumped shoulders. The sun beat down and without a cool breeze it was uncomfortably hot, you were itching for reprieve, something cold to drink perhaps. 

Your eyes caught sight of an ice cream storefront past the main square, just far enough to where not many people gathered. Perfect. You tugged on Phinks arm, your fingers still locked with his. It takes him a second to notice as he’s too intent on watching the crowd. Eventually he cocks a brow your way, nodding as you motion to follow. 

You (foolishly) assumed Phinks had you in his sights, had a hand on your back or something. You lived in a rose colored world with your boyfriend where you never needed to worry, so your hand slipping from him wasn’t of your concern, he’d have a handle on things. 

Panic strikes you, you whirled around desperately trying to spot Phinks. But you’re too short stuck in a group and suddenly everything feels like it’s a skyscraper around you, closing in as the air feels too heavy to breathe in. 

But then, “Babe.” You jump, a gasp leaving you as you ready yourself to shove someone away. But staring down at you with hands on your shoulders was Phinks, “Fucking hell, scared me.” Pulled hard against his chest, hearing his pounding heartbeat as his comforting scent washes over you- and you’re okay again. 

“L-Lost you. Didn’t mean to.” You whimper as you stare at him, fingers twisted into the material of his shirt. His features soften due to your terrified state. 

“I know, come on, let's get somewhere with less people.” 

This time Phinks is more aware of you than ever before, not taking any chances. Hypervigilant on the tightness of your grip, any time it loosened slightly his tightened. And this was why you needed him, you, so uncaring of dangers walking around with your head in the clouds. It’s as you go to wriggle yourself free to weave a sharp right, he acts.

“You don’t fucking let go of my hand.” He hissed, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other wrapped around your neck, you whimper from how tight his hold is. 

“S-Sorry, got distracted, saw something-”

“I don’t care, in public you know the damn rules.” As your bottom lip trembles, Phinks does his best to shove down his sudden raw temper, “Just- what if you get hurt? Or someone takes a liking to ya? Tell me if you wanna go somewhere all of a sudden, I can’t read your mind.” You nod, his gentler tone building back up your mood as he lets go of your frail neck. Your neck that he’d be able to snap faster than you could blink. 

Ten minutes later and you were sitting happily at a table with ice cream, Phinks sitting beside you with an arm tucked across the back of the private booth. He watches you with a faint smile, still coming down from his heightened senses when he lost sight and feel of you. And how quick he’d lost control, especially over an innocent situation. He pushed back pieces of hair as they fell from your updo, letting his fingers graze the soft skin of your face down to your neck, then to the collarbone he desperately wanted to mark. 

“So,” Phinks said, “Remember when I told you what actually happened to Uvogin’s fiance? How she’d been kidnapped by Hunters while sick?”

“Mhmm.” You hum, spooning strawberry soft-serve into your mouth.

“Guess uh- her name and picture got put on the Hunter database, as a missing person in danger so to speak.” You quirk an eyebrow as the look he gives you tells you not to say the obvious that well… Uvo did kidnap her. “Shal found your name with hers, but they only had an old pic of you, from when you were 14, I guess. This shit complicates things, there was talk of a group, lead by someone who worked with those obnoxious ass Hunters, saying they have possible locations on ya.”

As if on cue your fingers tremble, color drained from your cheeks, forcing you to place your ice cream down with a sudden drop. “Huh?”

“Shal wiped all the chats, the pictures and info. But right now, I don’t think it’s safe.”

“Phinks I don’t understand.” You can hardly hear the former bustle of the shop around you. A numbing high pitched tone starts up and your throat’s suddenly so, so dry. 

“That’s what Chrollo called me about this morning.” He waved his hand as if motioning to the prior call. Veins peeking out from his shirt are tense, you realize quickly he’s trying to keep his mood together for your sake, “Wanted us to come out and do something nice before we gotta leave for a few weeks.”

Your appetite- gone. A sour taste wipes the sweet strawberry one you’d been enjoying. “I-I don’t want to leave. I-”

“We’ll be back. Uvo and some others gonna handle it, throw them for some loops. Probably..” He stopped, “Kill them.”

At that point you were certain you were going to throw up on the table then and there. As total honesty was a part of your lives since finding out Phinks was in the Troupe, you’d asked for a gentler version of any details regarding a job. Hearing him speak of taking lives in a nonchalant way, never sat right. 

“Where do we have to go?”

“Meeting Shal outside the city, he’ll take us to Base. It ain’t bad, Uvo and the missus go there a lot, stayed there after we rescued her, maybe once before too. Primarily where I lived before you.” 

“Okay, do we have time to get some stuff?” You mentally began to race through the things you’d need for an extended time away.

“See, we don’t, so wish I thought of that before we left.”

“I swear to-” Phinks’s poorly timed laughter cut you off, “Glad my soon to be suffering because I won’t have my favorite pajamas is funny.”

The rendezvous with Shalnark turned into a shitshow. That was how you found yourself hiding in a closet in an old apartment complex, the furthest away place you found cover as nen (what Phinks called it, you think at least) brought the area to destruction. You can still hear the storm outside, the thunder boomed shaking the walls, the patter of rain. It came out of nowhere, along with all the people and crashing bricks of the buildings. 

People you don’t know were looking for you now. Even if it was a member of the Troupe you hadn’t met before, you were certain they’d say so, while the strange voices only yelled thinly veiled threats. You’re trying so hard to listen in, to gauge where people are, if they’re leaving or staying. Or even if a fakeout would be attempted. Staying put might be your best option, but you’re not fit for these situations! No experience, no self defense skills, just a girl with a racing pulse that might pass out any moment. You were one more crackling thunder away from just giving up. 

You wanted Phinks. You needed him. Praying for him to find you and make everything better, whisk you away and pretend this didn’t happen. What would these Hunters do to you? Would they listen if you tried to explain? Phinks said it hadn’t mattered for Uvogin’s girlfriend when she tried, so you assume right then that it wouldn't for you. One plan out the window. 

“Y/N!” You flinch each time your name is said by a voice you don’t know. Your stomach lurched. You pressed your hand against your lips harder. 

“I checked all these rooms, we should check the other apartments in this complex before we move on.” Another voice said, and you know what he said was a lie. They hadn’t checked in here or else they’d have found you behind boxes in the small closet. 

“Fuck this chase is getting annoying. I say we split before running into a Troupe member.”

“Yeah.” A new voice added in sounding further, “Those fuckers are scary strong, the infamous Zoldyck assassins don’t even fuck with them.”

“The big one took out Bates's entire team for his girl. I don’t want to end up like them. Dead, missing basically, no bodies ever found.” Retreating steps made you perk up. 

“If Y/N were here she’d probably be running to us for help, she isn’t here.”

You don’t dare move a muscle, but it’s so hard. You’re weak, cramping, emotionally crumbling, and unable to think of a viable plan. Minutes pass by like hours, time they continue to search getting so close but not close enough. A creaking door in the distance then a slam. Grating noises that sound all around. Playing with your mind, making you doubt your senses. And it hurts. Blood pounding in your ears and you don’t know how your stress isn’t enough to give you away to trained Hunters. 

An eerie silence. The hairs on the back of your neck standing talls, a chill down your spine. 

So you wait.

And wait. 

You count up to 60, then back down to 1. Then you do it again. And again. Your body screams at you to relax, you’ve balled up in the same spot for god knows how long now. Time was irrelevant to your plight when you couldn’t see outside your hiding spot. Had no way to tell if the men actually packed up and moved on, the rain was too loud to hear car engines starting to rev off. The silence was beginning to morph as your brain seemed to make noises that kept your heart racing like you couldn’t lose your wits, and you wanted to scream. 

Phinks will find you- he had to. He’ll find you. You keep telling yourself that as nausea rises up your throat, you gag against your sweaty palm. Eyes squeezed shut as they moisten. Maybe this was the world punishing you for being selfish and choosing to stay with Phinks after finding out his real occupation six months ago. Karma’s way of saying you deserved to suffer, to understand even a fraction of what your boyfriend’s victims went through. 

Your hand dropped from your mouth. You brace your palms against the floor, knees burning from how long they’d had to hold you up. Carefully, slow as could be you changed your position to sit back against the closet wall still behind a cardboard moving box. This is comfier at least, less awkward for your shaking limbs. 

Your head lulls. No no no. You suck in a sharp breath. Blood pressure dropped. Adrenaline crashing. Black crept into the crevices of your vision, slowly invading as you try to stay awake, begging yourself to do so. But you can’t give yourself away, not even as you go limp falling to the ground on your side with a thump.

-

A man sat bound and gagged, blood seeping from his empty eye sockets, fingers bent in unnatural positions. Kneecaps lazily removed, the bones absentmindedly feet away. He was lax because he bled out an hour ago, a thick gash along where his intestines would be. 

The next man who watched his coworkers torture, whimpers as he watched a short black haired man pick up a pair of pliers. 

“Where is Y/N?” He asked in his soft, yet sinister voice. Feitan’s dark eyes struck terror into the Hunter, who started to flail against the ropes. 

“D-Don’t know! No-None of us found her!” He begged, “You gotta believe me!” 

“I do.” Feitan shrugged, “Tell me where others are.”

There’s conflict in the Hunter’s eyes, like he weighed his options.

“Won’t say.” He finally said, tone defeated, he practically physically deflates knowing he’d be dying in the abandoned warehouse whether he said locations or not.

Blood seeped into the cement floor, a single bulb illuminating the room as it crackled. 

Feitan heard the approaching footsteps when they’d entered the building itself minutes ago. He waits, feeling a familiar aura. 

Phinks takes the sharp turn into where Feitan set up camp, distress and unkempt written all over him. The normal cool and collected (until pissed off) spider with a ridiculous pharaoh hat, was struggling. His heartbeat hadn’t settled in hours and he’d chugged most of the coffee Paku showed up with two hours ago.

Their prisoner won’t answer questions. Not even as he screeches, fingernails ripped out one by one. Not as he convulsed from the pain, a disgusting snap of breaking bones, blood spurting on his face. 

Phinks can only see red. He wants him dead. Dead. Dead. “Where the fuck is she?” He gripped the man’s cheeks, letting his fingers dig into his jaw, popping then the crack, gargled moans following. “Gone all quiet now, huh?” A maniacal grin pulls at his lips, his teeth brace and over, and over- again- and again- more- his fists pummel against flesh and organs. It’s when the prisoner is nothing more than a lump of mushed flesh does Feitan pull him off. 

Feitan smirked, “Got it all out?”

His knuckles burn, but the pain is nothing compared to the excruciating terror that’d made its home inside him. All Phinks can imagine is you tied up being transported between hunters as they mindlessly care for you, while under the pretense of helping. They wouldn’t care for your tears or pleas to let you go. He’s imagining them doing to you what Bates did to Uvo’s girl. How when they rescued her she’d been drugged up for months, bruised, with poorly stitched up gashes, and health deteriorating she couldn’t stand to walk. Phinks saw first hand how Uvo never left her side for the week she’d been unconscious with IV’s sticking in her veins. 

The thought of that happening to you makes his head hurt, sharp pulsating behind his forehead. He presses his fingers into his temple, prodding along his eyebrows for any sort of reprieve. Twisting anxiety, dense uncertainty gnawed at him. 

“Need to stay calm.” Feitan said, “Almost hear your thoughts.”

Phinks lets out a weighty exhale, shooting his ‘friend’ a glare, “I don’t know if she’s okay. I’m- supposed to protect her. This is fuckin’ ridiculous, these fucking Hunters are imbeciles.” It was getting out of hand, now the second Troupe member to have a partner taken by the same group. To Phinks, this had to be a declaration of war. And as he peers at Feitan who seemed deep in thought, he can tell the torturer felt the same, who had someone of his own too, “Your girl can be next, Feitan.”

“I know. Stop speaking.” Feitan spat, fingers involuntarily twitching. 

“We should go find Shal.” 

-

The rain had stopped; was the first thing you noticed as you groggily pushed yourself up. The air inside the abandoned room was sweet with the aftertaste of a storm, yet it made your head spin. Gathering your bearings you stare at the closet door as if it mocked you, dared you to open it.

You weigh your chances here, assuming you’d fallen asleep for one hour or ten, no one found you. And who’d wait that long to lure you out with malicious intent?

Legs wobble as you stand, they feel filled with lead as you approach your exit. Hand shaking as it grabs the handle, the thudding of your mind almost painful. Twisting. Opening. The hinges didn’t creak and you’re now staring at an empty room. The same as when you entered. Shit. The window shows you it’s night now, not mid afternoon anymore. All the heavy dark clouds were gone leaving the dark sky clear and dazzling with stars. 

Hugging your arms taut around yourself for warmth, you know what you need to do. You need to be strong and begin to make your way out, see if you can get to a phone or find someone willing to take you into the city. That was risky but you were desperate. And with the amount of nooks and crannies of the dilapidated buildings that once were a vibrant living compound, there was always going to be oversight. Maybe getting outside would help Phinks and the other members find you. 

You're somehow at the bargaining stage of grief and you almost laugh at how ridiculous you sound. Trying to stay quiet as a mouse while imagining dozens of scenarios, when you probably needed to be on the lookout. With each hall you walk through, you strain your ears for signs of life. As your weight shifts on floorboards and steps, if they make a sound you're frozen as you wait. But nobody came each time. It’s safe.

The exit to the entire building is finally in sight. You begin a slow descent of the stairs, still doing your best to be diligent. 

But it’s the sudden rush of voices, that has you screeching to halt practically holding your breath. 

“Per GPS maps, these two complex buildings are all we have left.” That voice. You recognize its higher tone, like it held a cheery imposition even at the large task at hand. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Another familiar voice. Their feet crunched on the gravel outside. 

“Nobu said no sign of the cars that peeled out earlier, not sure whether they decided being alive was better or if it's because they have Y/N.” 

“Why can’t I just start screaming her name loud as possible? She’s gotta know it’s me.”

“Uvo she’s probably terrified and you’ll manage to burst her eardrums. You know your girl is safe at home while Phinks is losing it right now.”

Uvogin. Shalnark. Faking their voices would be too elaborate of a hoax for anyone.  

“He on his way over?”

“Him and Feitan, yes. Others are tracking the rogue vehicles.” 

Phinks was on his way. Your chest blossomed in joy, you could weep happy tears as your body felt a million times lighter. Relief coursed through your veins and you went back to going downstairs. 

But what you hadn’t realized in all this time was your body struggled from the temperature drop. Your teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. The sundress you’d adorned did nothing to protect you when you laid unconscious in the closet. Your lips tinted purple. Your face flushed from the chill. The tips of your fingers numb. But all you felt was the anxiousness, the hiked pulse, and your fears rather than worry about your physical state. 

Shalnark spots you first, your meek trembling form with reddened skin appearing through the doorway like a ghost. He’s on you as he strips his jacket to get it around your shoulders. He’s checking for injuries before you're scooped up into bulking arms of a giant who exuded heat. You can’t speak, only nodding as Shal throws questions your way. The surrounding area is blurry, you squint for any sign of Phinks. But you could barely see Uvo, who was the one carrying you as you looked up. 

A commanding presence makes you subconsciously relax.

“Shal what- Y/N- Thank fuck,” Phinks is out of breath, filled with desperation as he raced to you, his heart plummeting when he saw you all small in Uvogin’s arms. Like your whole world is back on its proper axis, you’re trying to reach for him but you only muster up a whine in recognition. 

Uvogin hands you to Phinks, who cradles you in his strong hold as they take off to the car sitting idle. His touch sets you aflame as you begin to tear up, babbling nonsense into the crook of his neck, now wet from your tears.. 

“I got you.” Phinks whispered in your ear as he studied your face whilst his hands felt every inch of you. Needed to feel every inch as reassurance. Your smile is loopy, your eyes so distant as you reach to stroke his cheek. “Safe now, okay?”

The sky moved by fast, but you’re not paying enough attention. Having to will your heavy eyelids to remain open, so you can continue to look at your boyfriend. Taking in his severe face that was littered with worry.

You’re tucked into Phinks’s body as he holds you so tight, murmuring sweet nothings as you try to engage. You try to appreciate his roaming hands as they stroke along your neck, squish your cheeks in comfort; and as a way to remind himself you’re okay, he has you. A piece of you isn’t even hearing his words, nor the conversations taking place amongst Troupe members in the car. 

You couldn’t stop shivering even as heat blasts from the vents and as different articles of clothing had been offered up to cover you. Or as Phinks tries to rub your bare arms to generate heat. 

“Babe you can sleep, s’okay.” Phinks said, and you realize his eyes are bloodshot. His heart still hammered against you and you physically feel the fear he had and now the relief that now swirled around him. 

“Are you- okay?” You ask, concerned for him. 

Your question clearly threw him off but he shakes his head, slightly amused you were thinking of him after everything you went through, “I’m good, I got you back. I don’t want to think about what could have happened, thought I was losing my mind trying to find you.”

“I ran, I didn’t know what to do.” You sniffled, shuddering as you remembered the chaos, “Ran up some stairs, found a closet and hid. I was so scared I thought I was going to die and eventually my body gave out. I woke up and it was night.”

His gaze softens, before he leans down to kiss your cool lips, lingering before moving to peck your forehead, “We’re heading to Base now and we’ll get you warmed up.”

You cling to the blonde as if you’d be swept away any second. In and out of sleep for the drive, uncertain of the day or time at this point. It’s with the glint of orange rays that you’re alert to sunrise as the car comes to a halt. 

“I can walk.” You try to say to Phinks but he’s having none of it, sweeping you up bridal style before your feet even had a chance to touch the ground after the car door opened. 

“Babe stop, no reason for you to exert yourself. You can rely on me.” His lips press to the top of your head, the sound of him inhaling your scent as a comfort makes you shiver. 

You weren’t sure what to expect in a Base for the spiders, but a sprawling warehouse that just peaked above the surface level was not it. It has large, empty and tattered looking windows, run down and well- maybe that was to be expected for a group of criminals. Phinks carries you to a path and makes his way down a set of stairs that descend down to a single rusted door. 

You’re not sure if you really understood a wink of Nen when Phinks explained it months ago, or when you’d ask him questions. You’re not sure if it's some form of magic as when you two enter, it’s like stepping into a portal. From the outside looking in it would be expected to see continued dilapidation; rotted furniture, mold, rodents, general disarray of buildings left for time to handle. Yet what you see as the entry door opens to a platform with a metal staircase going down, was a perfectly normal space. Decorative pillars and art (surely stolen) haphazardly on the walls, with rugs in peculiar places. A long table for 12 was the grand room centerpiece. And from Phinks’s arms you see multiple doorways that must branch off into other spaces of the hideout, for a second you forget this belonged to criminals as you wonder if he’d let you explore. But that reality goes out the window when Phinks sets you down in a chair and you catch sight of Feitan entering from outside. He’s covered in blood and you’re nauseous at the sight. 

You look away, attempting to focus on the tiled floor, counting the squares you can see. Your legs are covered in goosebumps and as you feel along your arms, they are too.

“I’ll be right back.” Phinks pats your head and you want to cry out for him not to walk away from you. Leaving you as a fish out of water in a new place, an intimidating place where his friend who’s covered in blood watches you from the corner. Bookshelves line empty spaces, which most of the shelves are in disarray but present collections look ancient. 

You think it’s been five, maybe seven minutes since Phinks left the room, but you’re becoming antsy. Anxiety claws at you as you want him near, want to touch him and see his face to know everything’s okay. 

“Hey,” When you look up, the familiar face of Uvogin’s fiance greets you. She stands there looking frail, adorned in jeans and a sweater, but giving you a warm smile. 

“Hey, how are you?” You stammer out, the sight of her making you more nervous than calm. She takes a seat across from you at the grand table. 

She shook her head, “I should be asking you that. You okay? You’re not hurt are you?”

“I’m not physically, just… scared and now really cold.”

Her eyes went wide, “Oh would you like my cardigan?” But you stop her by holding up your hands before she can touch a button, “If you’re sure.” 

You hadn’t seen her since the day you found out about Phinks being in the Phantom Troupe, even though she resided literally next door. You’d slowly learned that while Phinks allowed you the ability to go out, Uvogin did not allow it for her. At least he stopped, though you aren’t sure why. Health? 

“I’m sure, thanks.” You want to say it’s because she looks like she’d need the extra body heat, that she shouldn’t look so malnourished.

An awkward silence falls over you and her, only Feitan’s faint shuffling breaking it up. You’re curious, sometimes too much for your own good and there’s suddenly a million questions at the tip of your tongue but you wonder if you should ask. Phinks gives you leeway because you accepted him full-heartedly, you wonder if she despises Uvogin’s work or something along those lines. 

“Are you-” Her glower makes your mouth snap shut. And it’s when Feitan tells you two to behave with a cackle as he leaves, does she lean in. 

“Why didn’t you run?”

“What?” You ask. Your stomach flutters with something unknown. 

“This was the best chance you ever could have had- more than…” She sighs, “Since my health’s not getting any better, I feel more awake than I ever have before about- life..” 

You’re confused. Her eyes look glazed over, you chalk her whimsical mood up to her illness, “I don’t fully understand… Sorry.” 

“You know Feitan carved his name into a girl's ribcage? Keeps her locked up in his attic. And you know where she’ll probably be in a year? Sitting here with us acting like a good dutiful lover.”

“Stop.” Your mind races as your pulse begins to climb up. And up. Fingers go numb as a tingling spreads along your limbs, “That- I don’t have stockholm syndrome.” 

She shrugged, “I might have it, might not. You can’t truly know either.”

“I loved him before he took me.”

“Does he let you have free reign of a phone?” You shake your head for ‘no,’ “What about, can you talk to old family or friends.” You don’t answer. “Cameras in every room? Constantly panicked if he can’t see or hear from you within seconds?”

“Would you… Want a new life away from Uvo?” Whether it was fear or anger that caused you to ask it, the pounding of your heart made you snap her.

“No. I’m content, I don’t know how much longer I have anyways. He’s in denial about it.” She seemed morose at the thought of her death, like she didn’t care, like her current life wasn’t worth fighting for. Just sitting there waving her hand in a simple gesture, “I guess I selfishly, while I’m alive, want to see one of them suffer like they’ve made others suffer. Like if Phinks lost you today.” You squirm at her words, “I know Uvo may not recover when I die, so guess it’ll be karma enough for his actions.”

“Don’t you love him though?”

“Does it matter? I had a tiny crush on him before he took me, the big strong stranger that tried to make me laugh when he tried my creations at the bakery.” She pauses and the quirk of her lips doesn’t slip past you as she recounts a good memory, “But, it doesn’t mean I wanted to be taken away or that it was okay. He killed someone in front of me then re-routed my life. I can look at you right now and say I’m irrevocably in love with Uvo because I am, at least my heart and body completely are. My brain always wants to be around him until it reminds me of who he is. That only started after he rescued me from my second kidnappers, same ones who tried to nab you. It isn’t logical to love someone who does all that yet, I do? Weird psychological stuff but… That’s all I want to say Y/N, don’t forget who these men really are. They’re no better than the Hunters with hero complexes trying to drag us to ‘safety.’ None of it is for our best interest. Because if it were, then both parties have left us the hell alone.”

“Just… Who’s the lesser evil?” You whisper.

“Precisely, and after what I went through with those Hunters, it appears the Phantom Troupe is the better choice, for me at least.” 

You agree, cringing at the memories of the way the Hunters talked about you in the abandoned building while you hid. Nothing about them was kind or willing to lay their lives down to protect you. This was an ego boost for them, bragging rights to say they fooled the spiders. That taking you and her were like trophies to boast about.

Uvogin’s fiance suddenly stood up, her chair almost knocking completely back. She brushed her hands off along her jeans. Clearing her throat, she speaks to you one last time-

“Ah, sometimes I say such strange things when I don’t feel well, sorry about that.” She smiles like a flip switched before she heads towards an entryway, you guess it leads to wherever Uvogin is. 

You nod, “Of course.” But your eyes exchange something far deeper, more meaningful and you know you’ll keep her words private. An understanding that left you feeling comforted in an odd way. And yet a part of who hates her for dragging you out of your rose colored world. But she was right. Even as a sour taste scratches the back of your throat to admit such a thing.

An unsettling feeling settles itself in your stomach, you think if you have to sit at the table any longer you’ll go mad. Like a ball of twine was slowly unraveling, you want out of the room where you partook in such a strange conversation. And the fact you’re still cold, though your teeth stopped chattering during the car ride. 

Technically, Phinks never said to stay put so you aren’t doing anything wrong by trying to find him. Technically. He’d walked down the hall behind you so you figure you’d run into him eventually. 

Your legs ache with each step, painful stabs against the bottom of your feet as you begin the trek. It felt like a maze the second you left the main room, the only light present from lamps every few feet flush with the ceiling. ‘Spooky,’ You think to yourself, hugging your arms close. 

The first door you pass is shut firmly. No sense of what could be behind it. You linger for a few moments debating whether or not to knock, but the lack of light from underneath deterred you. 

Taking a sharp turn, you practically collide face first into what felt like a wall, but when you looked up– Phinks.

“Babe, what’ya doing?” You don’t have time to argue as he’s picking you up, “You shouldn’t be walking around.”

“Wanted to find you.” You pout. Though as you cradle the side of his face, the earlier conversation slowly replays at the back of your mind.

Phinks noticed the slight drop in your face but chalked it up to the long day you’d had, “I was coming to get you.” Nuzzling your face into his collarbone you take a deep breath, letting his touch center you. Being against him in your state, getting a smidge of his body heat had you on fire for him, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt as he started walking back the way he came. 

Exhaustion nudges its way back unto you, a yawn eliciting to show as much. You want to keep track of the path he takes, a right and then a left- then… You aren’t sure. The halls look the same but he eventually nudges an ajar door open. 

“Alright, here we are.”

The room was fairly big but rather plain. As Phinks sets you down on the bed, handing you a change of clothes, you realize- this was his room. Simple furniture scattered about but strewn magazines of things he was interested in forgotten on a coffee table. An alarm clock that matched the one at home that had a layer of dust on the nightstand. Some art, definitely random pieces he probably didn’t care to have.

“This is your room isn’t it?”

“Yep. Needed to clean up, dust coated fucking everything been months since I last stayed.”

“Why..?”

“If I’m ever beaten up after a job-” He explained, “I don’t want you to see that. But with you to go home to, there's no reason to be here. Wasn’t bad for the bachelor life.” 

It’s nice to learn something new in that respect, to see something that’s been a piece of his life first hand. Soreness screams through you as Phinks helps you undress to slip on the heavy sweats and hoodie. A mound of blankets pulled over you next, you cuddle happily into the new warmth that spreads over you, almost as if you’d never been in that abandoned closet. 

You wait for him as he changes, admiring the way his back muscles flexed, “You’re coming to bed, right?”

“What a dumb question, babe. Need to hold you after this fucking day.” 

“I want you to stay by my side.”

His weight sinks into the bed, and he repositions so you can slot yourself against him. God he loved how small, weak you were compared to him. His fragile little girl he needed to treat like glass when all he wanted to do was fuck you into the mattress. Having to hold his urges back for your sake was the right thing to do though. He can’t scare you after the day you’ve had while all he wants to do is relish in your body because the adrenaline high he’s coming down from fucking hurts. So close to losing you. So close to understanding the anger and sadness they put others through when the troupe kills their loved ones. It’s a strange sensation really, to even think about empathizing, but after the day you two have had, he doesn’t care. Just wants to hold you in his chest as your breathing slows. Wants to squeeze the plush of your skin to remind himself you’re his. His. No one else's. Not the Hunters who think they’re the saviors of the Phantom Troupe’s women. 

God he wished he could make all your thoughts of everything and everyone else but him go away. 

“I love you.” Your tired voice, sleep about to drag you under, makes him melt inside.

“I love you too.” He says back, since he knows he loves you in his own fucked up way. A way you probably wouldn’t understand, would probably be scared of, “I’ll keep you warm tonight, you’re safe.” Right now he knows what you need to hear. 

“I was so scared I’d never see you again.”

Good. It’s secured in Phinks’s mind that you never thought to run away from him having had the perfect chance to. Hours he couldn’t find you- you could have gotten back to town and jumped ship in that time. Yet you stayed in your little hiding place hoping for him to save you. You’re just so cute. And he’s lucky to have someone who relies on him so heavily. That made his chest burst with dark possessiveness over you. Not that there’s anyone left to take you from him. Every Hunter who’d been there was now dead, even the ones who left by car, with all that’s left to find the remaining stragglers involved with this effort. If more came out of the woodwork to take you after trying with Uvo’s girl, he’s sure there’ll be more eventually. 

He soon drifts off thinking of you in tears, sobbing for him as he splits you apart on his cock. Sobbing that he’s ‘too big’, that you’re ‘too full’, and begging for him to stop- but gods he won’t stop not when you’re broken like that with big red eyes and wet skin from the pleasure turning to pain. And he won’t stop, never does, until you’ve gone dumb in the head drunk off his cock and filled with his come like you need it to breathe. And Phinks knows as his consciousness slips away, that his little daydream will become reality come morning time because he’s not a good man. Because a good man wouldn’t fuck his girl to break her poor little mind, to make her fall apart into tiny pieces so he could be the one to put her back together again. To get her nice and reliant. Especially not after a traumatic event. But you should know by now that he’s not good.

[glitterjay]

ー good girl?

MINORS DNI

jake x afab!reader

warnings oral (fem receiving), pet names, begging, cuss words, denying of orgasm, 18+ content.

you had a rough day in general. everything irritated you and you felt like crying even at the smallest things, but that didnt stop you from having nasty thoughts about your boyfriend. if you were going to cry, you wanted jaeyun to be the cause of it.

as soon as you reached your shared apartment, you rant upstairs, ignoring the calls from your boyfriend. you quickly went through his stuff, finding a white button up and putting it on. you only left your underwear under it, knowing it would turn on jake immediately.

just as if the universe heard you for once today, your boyfriend walked into the room with a concerned expression, which quickly turned into a darker gaze as he saw you buttoning up his shirt. “what are you doing?” he asked. “getting comfortable” you said with a bored tone, trying to get past him to go back downstairs.

but as you expected, jake did not let you off so easily. his strong arm caught you by the waist and brought you close to him, turning you around so that your body (specifically your ass) was pressed against his own. “so you think you can just ignore me to come and wear MY clothes? as if you were the very owner of it?”

his mouth was close to your ear, his breath hit your ear softly and it sent shivers down your spine. he made you weak with just his voice, but you had to stay strong. “i just had a bad day at work” you simply defended yourself. you looked up at him and saw his gaze soften for a second. just a second.

jake picked you up and tossed you on the bed, spreading your legs wide open to see you just in your underwear, which already had a wet patch on it. he chuckled, pinning your legs down with his arms as he got his face close to your most intimate part. he blowed on your clothed core, making you whimper a little.

jaeyun was very unpredictable since he hardly showed any type of emotion through his expressions. this excited you, since you didnt know what was ahead of you. any thought that was going through your head was thrown aside when you felt his tongue on your clit. you let out a loud moan as it had caught you off guard. jake was great at giving head. his mouth was experienced and it did wonders to you.

to your dismay, your actions from earlier had made him mad. his plan was to make you suffer. it was true that you wanted a good reason to cry, but your plan was to cry because of pleasure, not because he was denying you your orgasm. “p-please jakey, ‘m so close”

but he just kept going. his tongue brushed perfectly with your clit and he knew that. he would shake his head while his tongue explored every corner of your insides. his hands had you pinned down by your thighs, which he would often caress with his thumb. right when he felts your walls had clenched hard with his tongue, he stopped moving completely.

you let out an annoyed groan, fat tears rolling down your face. “jake please please please, let me cum, let me feel you inside me” you begged and begged, but he had set his mind to a plan. he picked up the first thing he found and started cleaning his face. you kneeled on the bed, you put on your beat puppy eyes and tried again. “do it for your good girl”

your last two words threw him over the edge, making him laugh out loud. “good girl? good girls don’t act like brats and take off their anger ignoring their boyfriends.” he walked towards the door and gave you one last glance. he’d be lying if he said your desperate and crying figure didnt turn him hard, but he’d deal with that on his own. “maybe fucking think what you’re doing before acting.” and just like that, he was out of the room.

© glitterjay | tumblr

i do be needing more people to give me ideas through ask or dms (which are open 24/7) or else i wont be able to do this the whole month </3 this was heavily inspired by something that was dropped on my ask, so i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

[death---dealer]

What if reader had a thing with the other guy before noa? And seeing him again would be something. 🧐

*fumbles and slips over my own self agony* Another SERIES? for NOA?

Series Name: Past Days. Chapter Title: A Day Doesn't Go By. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Yearning! Noa x Human! Reader Human! Reader x Human!Male. Rating: T. ( Mentions of ape aggression, possessiveness, flat out agony. ) Words: 4K. Summary: You know that idea I had about you leaving and having a child with a Human Male? Only this time Noa and Reader didn't mate before. Good luck everyone. This is a series.

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“We were together before I met you,” Your words were concise, very thought out like you had to rehearse what you were saying. Noa had no doubt that it was the case, smelling the Echo Male just outside the thatched doorway that was propped shut for some privacy. “He-He’s a good man.”

"Good man?” Noa felt like he was going to roar, but swallowed it back down his esophagus and enjoyed the choke that it gave him.

“He comes--- He comes to my Clan, lays claim to---”

There was only a vague gesture towards you, something that was so minute to you that it wasn’t clear in the light provided by the small fire pit in the center of the room. One side sat Noa, back towards you, one side sat you, facing forward in hopes that he had the audacity to look you face to face. “You never… Told us of him.”

"I---” Your voice dripped with the smallest detection of hesitation before your bottom lip drew itself in and got caught between your teeth to be nibbled upon. Noa could see the action in his head regardless of his position and all he wanted, the tug he had inside of his rattling chest already brimming with innate jealousy, was to turn and look at you. One of his favorite sights to bear witness to, one of those things that were not Echo exclusive anymore. They were only yours and Noa liked to imagine he was the only one who knew that.

 “I thought he was dead--- I saw him…” Agony pierced through the Master of the Birds at the sudden shift of your tone. “I saw him dragged away by a pack of Apes. What was I supposed to think?!”

“So you… Kept secrets from us then?”

Silence.

“You lied?”

Noa’s brows were tediously torn in to each other and with each and every rise of his shoulders as he inhaled did nothing to calm down the pinned back fact that you had kept a secret from him for so long. No, No --- Not just a secret, but it appeared to be an entire web of lies that you yourself were unable to untangle yourself from. First, this… Echo Male shows up. Fine, Noa can deal with that if he needed - He wasn’t below defending his Clan in the shadows of danger, coming to terms that if that case ever arose, he was going to need to rely on his own skills to do just that. You knew this Echo Male? Fine, Noa can dea--- 

You were embracing this Echo Male, familiarly to the point where even Noa himself had to look away at the intimate nature of which your back was pressed forward, into a male pelvic bone that was not his own, tears falling down your face as you touched his face with careful hands, hands that Noa wanted to feel against himself, lips being captivated in a way that was rare for Apes, but seemed abundantly clear that it was a favored form of affection as you drew your arms around the skinny neck of the Echo Male, the movement of your jaw against his indicating to Noa that you had your tongue sweeping somewhere other than your own mouth.

It was disgusting, he couldn’t look away, he’d never seen something like that before, the turn in his stomach so uncomfortable and tight that he felt his abdomen was going to snap in on itself. Words were spoken, Noa was sure. But were they really needed? Your hair was brushed into by sleek fingers that Noa knew weren’t equipped to properly defend. What in the highest heavens could this Echo Male possibly do with those?

 They-- They… Noa snarled, his back towards you as it had been for the last ten minutes as your desperate pleas fell on deaf ears. They were like little twigs and Noa wanted to bite every single one of them off just to please his bloodthirst that suddenly set in when the realization dawned upon him that this Echo --- This. This Man was your mate. Of sorts. Noa did not press for details, he didn't want to know them and his mind already ran with the prospect that you were not who he thought you were despite the months you had been at the clan. You were a fraud, a selfish little Human who did what they had to in order to survive in this world.  “No!” You shouted, finally sitting yourself up from your perched seat against a tree trunk that was used for the Apes who used the workbenches in the hut you secluded yourself in. “I didn't lie!”

“Then what?”

It was your turn to growl out of frustration, the only way to get your point across it seemed was with primal inflictions  in the back of your throat. “Noa, you’re being irrational!”

“Me? I am--- Thinking of the Clan! Cannot have two ECHO’S.” Snarling at you, he moved in his seat only slightly to ball his hands into fists, an instinct that shot aggression right down his spine. “Two Echo who can mate and make others---” Noa was stagnant at that, figuring the implication of his words were enough for you to get the point across. “Do you not understand… How dangerous is that to APES?”

Noa finally stood but refused to come around the fire so you could see him properly. From the stance though, you were able to figure out that you had messed up. Severely made a mistake and now you were going to pay the price. Your eyes admired and feared the way his shoulders broadened, making himself appear much larger despite his frame already being on a bulker side than your own. His teeth shone in the fire pits luminescence and no matter how hard you tried, there was not a drop of familiarity in his eyes. “You say… This man is a good one, how do you know?”

You were scrambling, sputtering out in an attempt to answer the question. You knew he was a good man from years of being with him, there was no way that Noa was going to understand that without in-depth details. “I just do.” You finally rested.

“WHY SHOULD I TRUST YOU?” Noa shouted. “You come here to Eagle Clan, we take you in, Noa, Anaya Soona become your friends--- You become one of us, and you throw it all away for some ECHO?” 

His voice was thunderous through you, causing you to shift and sit yourself back down before your knees gave way to your weight crushing them. Eyes widened at first at the shock wave that was barreling through you at the dawning aspect that Noa was indeed an Ape first, no matter how many times you tried to pin Human Qualities on him. There was absolutely nothing stopping him from lunging at you out of anger and the crack of his voice, just like a whip against your eardrum, sent you spiraling like blood was seeping out of your ears now.

“THAT’S WHO I AM.” It was your turn to shout, not leaving your seat and staring at him, completely flabbergasted at the tearing nature of your own voice that reverberated against the wooden walls. “That’s…” You drew a deep breath in and closed your eyes, finishing in a coarse but gentler way, “Who I am.”

His voice was thunderous through you, causing you to shift and sit yourself back down before your knees gave way to your weight crushing them. Eyes widened at first at the shock wave that was barreling through you at the dawning aspect that Noa was indeed an Ape first, no matter how many times you tried to pin Human Qualities on him. There was absolutely nothing stopping him from lunging at you out of anger and the crack of his voice, just like a whip against your eardrum, sent you spiraling like blood was seeping out of your ears now. 

“That’s all I am to you now, right?” Crackling as you spoke, you found it difficult to stop your voice from sounding so frail as tears budded around the corner of your eyes. You were never going to be able to have it both ways, and now that you had bargained that against a Chimpanzee, you made your choice. “Just an Echo?”

Noa opened his mouth, ghosting a small ‘you were so much more’ that lingered on the tip of his tongue. Moving his jaw forwards and backwards a few times, depth in contemplation up to his eyes, Noa turned his face ever so slightly after having turned his back to you again, the jolt in your chest eradicating your emotions at the slight of his drawn in features, usually so kind and so accepting that you did not recognize who was in the room with you.

He raised his hand and gave you one clear sign, just as concise but more bitter than the beginning of this fruitless conversation. It flared against the heat rising from the fire that artistically bent his fingers. 

‘Just an Echo.’

“Noa---” “You need to leave…. Immediately,” He pointed his muzzle towards the door, “He is… You are… Both dangerous to the Clan.” ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Noa felt sick to his stomach. Even worse, the bile was bubbling in his stomach surely but he was unable to find himself able to relieve that feeling and he found it somewhat comforting as he heat rose against his diaphragm. The more his green gaze caught hold of yours mid-conversation, the smile he had taken time to learn every minute detail about from the curving as you formed it, the baring of your teeth, even the subtle wrinkles near the corners of your mouth, all seemed to make him flash red in front of his vision, temporarily blinding him in a fit of adverse envy. You had pressed yourself against Soona in a tight embrace, your words falling short and Noa was unable to hear anything you were saying. Maybe something like a ‘thank you’ of sorts. Noa wished he didn't care. He couldn’t find it in himself to look away. Your head tilting back to give him just a taste of your jugular enough for Noa to feel a flood of saliva coat the back of his throat in a frenzied attempt to prepare himself to bite you when Soona told you something funny as a departing gift. The coarse nature of your swinging laugh, hand placing itself onto your chest where he wanted nothing more than to grasp at the bones and pull them away to have you lay completely bare under you so he could seep into your very blood. 

Anaya was next, garnering himself a few stolen tears from your eyes as you clasped your arms around him tightly, his neck being laxed as you pulled him into your frame. He reciprocated, much like Noa expected him too with a small sniffle as his long arms tangled around you and kept you close to the point where you wheezed out a bit and Anaya loosened his grip. Noa caught the other Ape muttering something into your neck that sounded vaguely like a ‘Visit… Eagle Clan again?’ Followed by your eyes peering into Noa’s over Anaya’s shoulders, piercing into him with intensity and fire that contradicted your actions. ‘Maybe someday.’ You told him back, knowing it to be a complete lie. You were never to return, Noa made sure you were aware previously.

With your hand on the door to leave, you heard Noa’s voice one last time, “If I see you or… Echo Male on Eagle Clan Territory, I will come to kill you myself. Never allowed back.”

How he hated this. Hated you. Not in actuality, there was nothing that Noa could imagine that would make him viciously hate you, but he was teetering on a very fine line as far as his strung emotions went. Your hand pressed against a knee-cap, similar to structure to your own, slightly bigger and Noa found himself catapulting in the idea of shattering it. The crunch, the pull of the tendons as they were flushed and snapped under his stupendous strength. Noa felt his tongue brush against his canines in his open mouth, now salivating more at that idea than the previous notion of biting into your neck.

He caught eyes with you again and while you tried to keep the contact as cordial as possible while being yanked onto the horse back with your mate, even granting him the delicious swoop or your eyes forming a smile, all for him Noa thought selfishly and felt small hackles rise on his shoulders at the idea that you were do anything for him, this time the Ape was quick to look away and focus his eyes on the brushing strokes of the communal bonfire in the distance. Out of his periphery, he could see your arms wrapping around the tapering waist of another Male, one Noa let win out of the sake of your own wellbeing.

How good of a life could you truly have had with him? An Ape? Genetically, a child was improbable, culturally, something would have derailed you from him and his Clan and you’d leave anyway when you realized there was no satisfaction in staying, so he was more than agreeing to let you go back out into the world with your own kind. Where you can have a child, where culturally you share all the same aspects, where Noa knew you were able to get what you needed without himself or the other Apes hindering you.

His last words echoed in his mind.

He’d kill you if you came back, if any of you came back, his green gaze locked onto the Echo Male’s for a moment, and with a tilt of the head from your mate towards Noa as an acceptance of sorts, he began trotting off. Balling his hands into fists, it took all of Noa’s willpower to not chase after you in a desperate plea to get you to stay. Even if it meant the Echo Male stayed with you, he’d make it work, he’d convince the Elders. But--- He stopped himself as you looked over your shoulder at him, tears rolling fatly down your cheeks to kiss near your chin and drip off. 

One by one, Noa watched them fall until he was no longer able to see them. And one by one, he heard the horses' hooves getting farther and farther away, only taking mild-solace when Soona came to his side and wrapped her arm into Noa’s as a form of empathy. He spotted her a glance, nothing more before he looked back upwards into the woods. 

Five Years Later.

“You need to stay close to mommy,” You scolded your child softly, your fingers brushing their hair back softly out of comfort. They seemed afraid, as if they ventured too far from you and were lost, searching for you but ended up frozen in their spot when all the aspects of the forest became a carbon copy. Crouching down in a way that sends you reminiscent of the way your body used to fall when you were with the Clan, you tilted your head. Your knee tapping against Noa’s as you and he spent an afternoon bathed in the sun while near the rivers edge--- Even after all this time you thought to yourself and shook the idea out of your head, letting your fingers cup the plump cheek of your offspring.

“It’s dangerous out here, remember?”

They did not respond to you immediately, wide eyed, more so than usual as they held such curiosity about the world and you truly did your best to harbor that curiosity and to teach within your means. A shackle of electricity ran down your spine when you sensed you were being watched.

Always a primal instinct but it was one that you learned needed to be paid attention in the last five years. Slowly, as to not raise an alarm to your child or even to your husband who was five or so meters to your right scattering through some berry bushes for goods to bring back, you let your eyes scan the area. Upon first glance, there was nothing out of the norm so you began tracing your child’s line of vision to see what they had been fixated on, their small mouth now propped open to mutter one word towards you, a word they knew well enough from your tales and from the lore your husband told them before bed. 

“Ape.”

Ape.

Eyes widened slowly as you peered straight into the woods in front of you, coming eye to eye with another set of intelligent gazes that sent your hand towards the clutch that held your small dagger strapped to your thigh. Not equipped for an actual fight, you only trailed out from your camp that you shared with another set of Human parents to go fish and collect some wood trimmings for the fire. Cursing under your breath as you often ventured out with only your husband, the other couple you lived with taking time to babysit your child, you had brought them with you this afternoon after they begged. After they wanted to learn what Mom and Dad did out in the wilderness. 

You kept away from the Ape Clans of the area that you knew about. The fishing Clan that was off to the west, they held no animosity towards you but that didn't mean they wouldn’t attack if you got too close to their land which happened once or twice when you went to a particular river, the Tweed Clan that was nestled right against the outer banks of the Echo Ruins, often scavenging them for goods to use in their pieces of work of clothing, baskets, satchels. The Lumber Clan, closer to the peaks of the hills that surrounded the area, primed for chopping down the newly spruced trees but also knowledgeable to plant more in its place.

The last one ---- The Eagle Clan. You were in agreement with your husband to stay as far away from that as possible after you had told him of the empty threat that their leader left you with so many years ago. Empty to you, you knew Noa would never act upon the words and you were confident of that, but your husband thought otherwise as he did not know them the way that you did. So, all these years you stayed away, longing for a glimpse of what became of the Apes you considered your friends but to no satisfaction. Even when you swore you saw Eagle Sun, you told yourself that it was just a regular Eagle, perched upon a branch and brought no information back to their Master.

Swallowing lightly, you barely clicked your tongue which garnered the attention of your husband. He was quick to spot you, quick to watch your hand make movements that you had taught him from the Apes themselves, telling of the danger that was resting less than ten meters in front of you. He was slower on his feet, faster movements could be indicative of a threat to the wild Apes you were able to see. Two of them, one slightly bigger than the other though both were hunched in on themselves, very similarly to your stance, out of defense. 

‘Take Luna,' You signed at your husband, languidly pulling the young child behind your back and into the grasp of her father. In silence, he told her not to speak, not to make a sound by pressing his fingers to his lips in a quiet ‘shhh’. 

You shared a glance with your husband, ‘Two,’ The sign was clear, ‘Female, male. Male is defending, female might be with child----’

Vision suddenly became more vivid as the sun tore itself out of the clouds above and the golden rays danced through the tree leaves above, cascading to the ground below. You were staring at the male, for every time you moved to the left, they mimicked your behavior in a means to keep themselves leveraged in case you decided to run. Unsurely, you tried to keep your heart from beating out of your chest as you came to rise, cautiously, your fingers unbuttoning your dagger from its cozy home and taking the hilt into your dominant hand. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your husband slowly untangling himself from the arrow that he carried against his back. It was time, you drew a deep breath into your lungs and stood fully, defending the ground you were on, “We don’t want to fight, we were just out getting wood for our fire.” Nothing, they just stared at you tentatively and in the shadows playing from the leaves of the heavens, you could have sworn that you saw the male Chimp tilting his head in shock or amazement. They signed something towards their presumed mate, your eyes at this distance unable to detect what was said. 

“We'll leave,” You stepped backwards once, cautious of where your feet were being placed. “Right now. We can all go,” Narrowing your eyes at movement as the male came forward, you tightened the grasp on your dagger and heard your husband whisper to your child to run if the Chimpanzee chose to come forward in a lurch. “We can all go out separate ways and forget we even saw each other.”

They came into more light and you were more avidly able to see details about them. Two cross body bags that merged together on the chest and digging into thickened fur all across the taut muscles that could aid in ripping your face off, dancing now from his hunched over position, thin waist belt that shifted with each move of his tapering hips. The last article of adornment left your mouth slightly dry because there was absolutely no way your eyes were seeing correctly.

The tan and orange tinge of the bicep band was familiar enough, your fingers dallied against your dagger as you imagined how it felt. Leathery, you had felt it before when you asked the Eagle Clan Leader what material it was made out of. The adjacent blue feathers came into view and solidified your entire train of thought. He was larger than he was five years ago - Finally growing more from the lanky nature of his arms and legs. Thickened fur hit his body in the right places, your eyes shocked to see the scar still remained against his right pectoral. 

Swallowing was impossible. There was a choked sort of cry resting in the back of your throat as he proceeded a bit closer and you found yourself staggering backwards. Speaking was impossible, your vocal cords were failing you. Breathing was impossible, it felt like your lungs were seeped with sap from a maple tree, thickening and causing pained core memories to flash in front of your eyes before you looked back towards the female Chimp he was traveling with. A tear prickled down your right cheek as they looked right back at you, suddenly flushed with familiarity. 

“So-Soona?”

They tensed at the sound of your voice, the angular nature of their body shifting ever so slightly but refusing to come any closer. Your husband's reaction behind you was palpable as he reached down to grasp Luna into his arms, eyes looking down at you before looking forward again. He’d only met them once, there was no way he recognized them by appearance. He knew their names though, something you spoke about with kind fondness, inflicting a bit more bitterness towards the male who now came into full view and there was no way for you to deny it any longer. 

“Noa.”

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

I got bored again so you get Nimona headcanons

I’m fully convinced that Bal is denser than a neutron star

He’s liked Ambrosius ever since he met him and when he was a teenager he was fully convinced those feelings were unrequited  

All the while Ambrosius was asking him out like every other week and making plans for their damn wedding 

Poor babe had to be kissed on the fucking mouth for him to even consider that Ambrosius liked him back

When he finally caught on he woke up half the institute with his realization because he literally screamed 

He got really excited and asked Ambrosius “So you love me yeah?” 

Ambrosius was out here looking for hidden cameras because no way in Hell can this man be that clueless

He let Bal believe that it was a new development because he didn’t have the heart to tell Bal that he was just slow on the uptake 

He accidentally let it slip to Nimona and she never let him live it down

The boys absolutely made breakup playlists during the movie 

Olivia Rodrigo and Taylor Swift were their best friends during that time

When the dust had settled and they forgave each other and themselves they played the playlists and laughed about how stupid they were (and they both pretended not to notice the tears in their eyes)

I’m fully convinced that the trio has the dumbest sense of humor (which is my sense of humor) 

Bal has a bad habit of taking his arm off and leaving it in the most random places 

Whenever someone asks where his arm is he’ll say “Which one?” Or “I don’t know love where is my arm?”

At first it caught Ambrosius off guard but now he just chuckles and says “Fine be like but don't ask me for help when you can't find it later” 

Bal will normally scoff and tell him he won't (they both pretend the conversation never happened when Bal asks him to help him look for it)

One time they were watching a firework show and Nimona turned to them and said “Remind you of anything?” 

The boys just sat there not knowing if they wanted to laugh or cry so they took turns doing both 

They kept making that joke and Ambrosius threatened to call them firecracker if they kept it up

All they could say was “You act like that isn’t a sick ass nickname” 

Whenever the smallest inconvenience happens Ambrosius always says “I wish the director stabbed me that day” 

Like this man could misplace his keys and look down at the ground and say “Do me a favor come back and kill me for real please”

The first time he said that Bal spit out his coffee and all Ambrosius could say was “You’re not helping this situation hun”

Honestly, I have no clue how old Ambrosius and Bal are but if I had to guess I would say 20-26

And because they’re both really young and Nimona hasn’t matured past 14 I feel like they would have a very complex relationship with her 

They have very paternal instincts when it comes to her but they also act like older brothers 

They’ll threaten to ground her if she sets another piece of bubble gum on fire (which she laughs at) but they also aren't afraid to mess around and roughhouse with her 

Sometimes Nimona and Ambrosius will be messing around and jokingly picking on each other and the next thing Nimona knows he’s being picked up like he weighs nothing and tossed on the couch 

Whenever Nimona annoys the Hell out of Bal while he’s working Bal will just pick him up and place him outside of the lab

And there have been plenty of times when Ambrosius isn't scared to tackle his little ass to the floor 

Oh she’ll make sure they regret it because she could easily snap them both in half like a twig but sometimes it’s just fun to play fight (Ambrosius calls them her zoomies)

They’ll bicker over who actually cleans up around the house and whose turn it is to wash the dishes 

But they’re also able to have these incredibly deep conversations that go late into the night 

They’ll get into very intense fights and then five minutes later Ambrosius will walk into Nimona’s room and leave a tray of cut fruit without saying anything 

Whenever the boys are working from home Nimona will hang out with them

She jokes that she’s “blessing them with her presence” and most of the time they let it slide because she doesn’t really do anything 

She’ll bring snacks drinks games and a phone charger but she doesn’t talk a lot she just hunkers down and waits for them to be done with work

Whenever the boys ask why she does this she’ll shrug her shoulder but the truth is she finds their company incredibly comforting

[izzielizzie93]

High School Sweethearts Pt 4-J Burrow

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 

College!JoeBurrow x YN Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

LAST PART!! :)

-----

For the next two days, Joe popped up wherever he could. First, he was tossing a ball with his friends on the front lawn and stared at me as I drove by. Then, he was tossing the ball in my front yard with my brother and he had to be a perfect gentleman and offer to take in groceries for me. 

Still giving him the cold shoulder, he upped his game by playing video games with my brother in the bedroom across from mine. I slammed my door when I saw him and I distinctly heard him laugh. Busying myself with laundry, I ignored the knocking for a solid five minutes before I flung the door open. 

“Jason went to pick up pizza, what’s up?” Joe pushed past me and hopped onto my bed, leaning back casually against the pillows. “This is not letting me think about it.” I glared, going back to my laundry. “I can’t just come in to say hi?” He asked, pouting. “You’re a menace.” I huffed, glancing over at him; which was a bad move. He had lifted his arms above his head causing his shirt to rise and giving me a good view of his skin. 

He caught me and chuckled, stretching his arms above his head to cause his shirt to rise up further. “A fucking menace.” I grumbled again, turning to open my suitcase to see what other clothes I had for the week. 

Getting off of the bed, Joe came toward me and leaned in to look at my photo wall. “I have this one in my dorm.” He said, pointing to our prom picture. “And these.” He added, pointing to a few more. “I don’t have this one.” He plucked a polaroid off of the wall and slid it into his wallet.

After a few more minutes of listening to him pick up different things around the room and make comments about our high school days, I had to interject. 

“Joe,” I sighed, closing my suitcase and sitting on the bed. “Y/N, I know it’s going to take a lot for you to trust me. I just need to know before you leave that I have a chance.” Joe hesitated before moving to sit next to me. “You have a chance.” I blurted. “Oh christ, that feels good to hear.” He let out a breathy laugh, before pulling me into a hug that caused us to fall backward onto the bed. 

“I don’t want to make a huge list of rules; but we need to set some ground rules.” I said, pulling away from Joe as he leaned in to kiss me. “Ok,” He nodded, pulling me up to sit facing him. “I want open communication. I don’t want to have to sit and wonder if you’re pulling away.” “I’ll call you everyday.” Joe promised. 

“I don’t want huge promises like that, a phone call a couple of times a week makes sense. I want to hear all about life in Ohio and we can see each other during breaks. Maybe you can come down to Louisiana and see how the south parties.” Joe laughed at this, he was not a party guy in the least. 

“I owe you the world after how I made you feel. I’ll do anything you want. I will prove to you that this is the right choice.” Joe said, leaning his forehead against mine. 

Feeling overwhelmed with emotions, my eyes welled with tears from the relief of being back in Joe's arms and the fear of what lay ahead. Joe leaned forward and kissed both of my cheeks, his finger wiping away a few fallen tears. He held my gaze before I managed the smallest of nods and he leaned forward to kiss me. 

His soft, warm lips met mine and he kept me pulled tightly against him. His teeth caught my bottom lip and caused me to gasp, allowing Joe the chance to slip his tongue into my mouth. My body melded so naturally into his as he pulled me closer to his chest. 

Pulling away when the need for air was critical, Joe’s lips quickly found the sweet spot under my ear. “Joe,” I gasped. “Oh fuck, say my name again princess.” Joe growled. “Earn it,” I challenged, “Joe!” I gasped when his teeth bit my neck, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Pizza!” Jake called as he thundered up the stairs. “That was fast.” I whined. “It really wasn’t, you let me waste like ten minutes.” Joe countered. “I’ll eat and then be right back.” He pressed a quick kiss to my lips before heading across the hallway. 

—

For the remainder of my trip, Joe was glued to my side and it felt like a dream. Naturally, we both received many questions and teasing from friends and family; but it was hard to be mad at them when I felt so deliriously happy. 

Since my parents were coming to visit me for a week, Joe happily agreed to take us to the airport. “We’ll see you inside.” My mom winked as she and my dad headed inside so I could say goodbye to Joe. 

I had been in a heated internal debate with myself the entire ride to the airport. I wanted to desperately tell Joe I loved him before he left; but I didn’t want to scare him. 

“I want to know when you land and call me when you get back to your dorm.” Joe said, leaning down to kiss me. “I will,” I sniffled, “I am going to miss you.” “I’m already counting down the days until Christmas.” Joe smiled sadly. 

“I love you.” We both blurted out at the same time. “I wanted to say it first.” Joe pouted. “I love you, you dork.” I laughed, saying it again before reaching up to kiss Joe again. “I love you, Y/N.” He smiled, repeating the phrase between short kisses. 

—

After returning to school, Joe kept in constant communication. He called me on good days and bad and I never felt like I had to chase him. We made good use of our holiday breaks and he even came out to see me during Mardi Gras and sent flowers the week before on Valentine’s Day. 

Feeling as though life couldn’t get any better, I got a phone call that would prove me very wrong. It had been an amazing spring day and I was taking the time to walk back to my dorm when Joe’s name popped up on my phone. “Hey Joey.” I greeted. “Hey baby, are you busy?” He asked. “No, just heading back to my dorm. This weather is amazing.” I smiled politely as a few other students passed me. “I have some news.” My stomach twisted and I immediately felt nervous. “Bad?” “No baby, not bad at all.” Joe said. 

“I’m transferring to LSU in the fall.”

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

Thank you to everyone who has stuck around for this. Interact and share/like/comment :)

If this finds you on the night of the AFC championship, hopefully it makes you smile. I am so sad rn

[alexispink31]

My entire life I’ve battled depression, a few years back I got really bad, I had no idea how much pain I had been in before my life was ruined cause of my own choice of how I was living. I was so angry with life, I was hurting, I was afraid, I felt so much pain in my heart that I couldn’t bare my own thoughts anymore my mind was so full of thoughts that I couldn’t even think straight. I had no clue who I even was anymore. It made me feel weak, I was in panic mode all the time, I felt extremely lonely, my life had been falling apart, I had reacted in such a way that I had no idea what to expect from myself. I became numb while I sat with tears in my eyes, I felt my stomach ache from the stress of being in the most difficult place of life while I was hurting. I was beyond exhausted and tired. I didn’t want to feel the pain, much longer I was struggling with it all.

I had no energy for the smallest of tasks, I was so stressed out, exhausted, I couldn’t even get myself out of my bed I had to take a break from feeling so much of the stress that was causing my anxiety to be so intense and it took me a long time to get through the healing phase of being able to breathe again.. I was so anxious to get out of my head that I was just trying to take one day at a time. I couldn’t breathe at times, I was struggling with my asthma so bad.

I had to get out of the house and get my stuff done and that was a huge struggle for me I was so lost I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing anymore. I was in a very miserable place, but despite all of that I kept going. But the things that were happening in my life were not easy to cope with, they were a result of my own lack of self awareness. The things being done to me by this narcissist person that made it a hell of a nightmare to be in such a horrible mindset.

He was terrible and cruel to me every day. He was so toxic towards me I had prayed to God every day, somedays I was on my hands and knees begging for help to get me through this difficult time in my life. My ex was beyond ugly to me, his personality was so toxic, he treated me however he pleased, I was an object to him nothing more nothing less. He had no idea how much he was hurting me so I had to go through the process of heart break. I was very angry at him for being so selfish, he didn’t understand how I was devastated about him being so naive about everything he was putting me through. I chased him around for what seemed like a lifetime, i was proving myself to him, that I was worth fighting for, i begged for his attention, to be heard, to make him see that I was worth not getting cheated on, that I deserved someone to stay faithful to me and I was willing to do whatever it took to make us work.

I have struggled to voice my own thoughts, opinions and feelings for the past 30 years most of my life, I was too scared to speak out and ask for help from people, instead I trusted my own judgment to do it all on my own.

Playing the role of a mother, I was also working to support my children. I was battling postpartum depression shortly after giving birth to my son. I hadn’t had time to grieve over the fact I was in such pain that it was hard to keep up with all of the things I had been dealing with for so long..

I was being abused by my ex every single day for years, I was called horrible names, I was chocked, I was getting kicked around that was a huge embarrassment to me. I would cry because of the way I was being mistreated by him. He was a very unstable person, he has no sort of good character or any other form of self respect that he has to offer to anyone. He was unkind to me, the people who I was the closest to, he was very disrespectful and harsh towards my children, family, and friends.

It was a lot of things that he had done to me that made him very very angry at me, he would say all the time that he knew I deserved better than him, because of what he was doing to me, he was without a doubt the most narcissistic person I ever met. I stand by that.. he is not worth my time, blood, or tears. I was exhausted of the life I was living.

I had so much anger.. I had no idea how to deal with the situation that was so much more than I could possibly handle. I was coping to the reality of it all, the fact it was a lot more than I was able to handle. The night terrors, the way that it was suppose to be different, the things that were being said to me only to find out that they were all just lies that were being told to me by him..

I had been questioning my own life because how could someone claim to love and care for me while also hurting me?! I built a life with this person, I was fortunate enough to be blessed with two babies with him. It all went downhill afterwards, I was so devastated, I couldn’t even imagine the thought of how I would survive without him the thought itself was too much to even comprehend it all. I couldn’t imagine what our life’s would be without each other. the thought of loving you so deeply, I was willing to do anything to make it work out. I knew that I was willing to go through hell with you but how fair is that to anyone?!

I was so overwhelmed by the pain that it was difficult knowing what to do, how to fix it all!!!!!! I couldn’t do anything about it because of the fact I was fighting for the impossible.

And then it all went down the drain, I had to get a reality check on the truth that I was doing nothing wrong, I was protecting my children from all the evil that was happening to them and I. I was sad that my pain was so severe that I was going into a state of shock. I couldn’t believe I was in such a terrible situation I just wanted to wake up, be able to wake up out of this horrible nightmare that I was in. I was sickened by the way that my life was shattered into a billion pieces. Yet, I was the only one who was capable of putting myself back together, every single piece of me I had to make a choice to be able to heal from the trauma that I endured that had taken me through some of the darkest days of my life. I am so grateful for the opportunity to be able to be a light to those who have been through this awful experience while living through domestic violence.

It is so much more than just an inconvenience to be able to share my experiences with others. Domestic violence is serious, nobody should have to be afraid of their own life. I have a lot of people who witnessed the violence that occurred during the time I was with him, they have witnessed the worst of it all. My mom being a part of the chaotic life I was living through. It is very sad to hear that I have lived through this, it brings tears to my eyes because why does anybody deserve this kind of torture?! I am grateful for the experience of my own strength to overcome the worst of this, I hope that I will grow stronger as I heal from this all, who have suffered through the abuse and trauma.

I hope that we who have faced these horrible battles will find the courage to stand firm against the evilness that we all face in the world. I pray that whoever is in the position of being in a situation like this that you are capable of being heard by someone.

I was not worth being loved by him anymore because he had hurt me so badly, he was so proud of it. He had no remorse whatsoever, he had no self control and he had no idea how much he had hurt his own family in the process of his own chaos and his destruction. He was hurting his kids, he was hurting me.. He didn’t care the type of damage he was causing me, he was wanting to make my life miserable. He was proud of himself for all the chaos and pain he was causing, it made him feel better about his own life choices. I’m very appreciative of that heart break that I had to go through the depths of my life to see what I truly deserve. I have been through a hell of a time in my life.. someday I hope to be able to be loved by somebody again, I crave for a gentle love that will never question our love for one another. I pray God brings me love that is healthy, someone who is faithful to me, who is willing to love me and my babies.

I didn’t know how much of a difference it made me feel about the way I was treated during this time of my life, I was judged, I was held to a higher standard of self worth, I am now the most humble women, I understand why certain things happen to us, we should be open minded and aware of what is happening around us.

I am grateful for my struggles to be able to express my feelings the way that I should be able to and most important to be able to say that I’m not alone in this life.

I’ve learned my worth, I will never forget that I was born in a society where people are not always kind to others but rather a person that is willing to stand in their own path and be able to make a difference to others. I am unique in my own way. I am a very different person, I’m okay with that.

I felt I was being punished for being human.

I was hurting, I was sad, I was severely depressed…

I felt like a burden to everyone around me, it made me hate myself so much that even when I had a lot of people who had my back it hadn’t felt that way.

I hadn’t asked for my life to turn into something that was so unbearable for me. I just wanted someone to understand how draining my soul was..

I never wanted to have gone through the trouble of being a woman who was incapable of being heard, to go through so much of heart ache the fear of losing myself and being unable to fight for my own sanity, and my happiness. It was the worst feeling in life to feel this way in my whole existence. To feel worthless, I felt like I was being treated horribly by the people who were suppose to be my people. I felt so much heartache than anyone could imagine. Life has taught me that there was a lot of things that were not meant to happen in my lifetime but that there is something special about being able to live through the pain of losing your self, while slowly building myself back up. Your life has meaning and your own feelings matter to me because I care so much about YOU!! WHOEVER YOU ARE YOU ARE WORTHY 🤍

This relationship was a nightmare for me. I don’t even care about your opinion of my life.

You felt how you felt, I felt like I had no choice but to be honest with myself I didn’t even know who you were then and I can care less about who you are now.

I was so broken, the way he poured so much evil into me he could have given two fucks about me he never cared about me at all.

He treated me like a worthless garbage can and that says enough about him. I deserved to be treated better than this, by the person who I had been in love with. You made me realize how much you weren’t deserving of my love. You didn’t deserve access to me. It’s sad that people get treated so poorly, badly enough that they are being forced to go through the worst possible phase of life on their own and not be able to get a proper explanation for why they deserved to be treated so poorly by their own person who was suppose to be the one who was my saving grace instead you were a horrible mistake and a terrible lesson learned.

I suffered from the pain of being treated like this which caused me to go into a mental breakdown.

It was a horrifying traumatic abusive relationship with a narcissist who can bring you to the point of vulnerability.

I didn’t deserve to be treated this badly, there is lessons learned that are needed to be taught, be a good listener or be a helping hand for others.

We learn to have grace and peace in our hearts as we grow stronger each day to be able to do what we need to do to get through these tough times in life.

Nobody’s been harder on me than me.

I know that I’m a better person than I was when I was hurting, I know I am a better mom than I was when I was hurting, I know I am a better friend than I was when I was hurting, I know I am a better daughter than I was when I was hurting, I’m a better sister than I was when I was hurting…

I am only human. I’m not a bad person, I just want to be able to get back to my normal self again..

I went from having long hair to completely going short with it, I’ve heard that hair can hold a lot of memories, it can also hold a lot of emotions, feelings, and pain. It makes me feel better about myself after I cut it off. Letting go of your fears is not an easy thing to do but it’s the most powerful way to get rid of all the worries you have and make sure that you’re ready to take the leap of faith to get back to your own self.

You are what makes you stronger, you have to keep going forward and make sure you are able to get back on the right path to the next chapter of the story you are telling. The person who has been fighting against you for years, yet still has nothing to offer you in life. The individual who has been fighting against you has been the one who is the problem, they have lost their own way of existence they now suffer from the consequences of their own decisions. They have to live with their choices, they will be affected by this, they will suffer for eternity. Sooner or later they will feel the pain of losing you. They will remember you for how they destroyed your heart and your life. They have no idea how much it will hurt them when they remember the memories of the times they had you in their life, the fact they tried breaking the one person, who was there for them in the past and who was always there for them with so much love and forgiveness that is what they will live with that for the rest of their lifetime!!!!!!

You will feel the most loved by everyone around you for your soul that is so special.

You have to be there for yourself this time. You’re a priority, you have a lot to offer to yourself to help others in your life as you are now in the position of being a part of sharing your story. Don’t let anyone make you feel that you aren’t worthy of being loved. I’m beyond thankful for still being here. For as many times I had wanted to give up. I made the most of my life by being able to keep fighting. The only thing that matters is the strength to keep me going through this process of grief, suffering, healing, and being able to see the things I once had to endure in order to be able to see what was truly worth the sacrifice of my own body and my own soul.

The only person who can be saved by the grace of Jesus is anyone who has ever seen him in the most horrific way possible to be a hero in his entire existence the one that will save you from your own misery and the ones who are the only person that is willing to give you a chance to be the one that can be helped by the one that has given me the most valuable gift of all of this life to be able to live with it and be able to have the peace of mind and to have a better understanding of life than the one that we have now in our own heart Prayers are always the best and the most important thing to do. I have to be able to keep going through this every single day because of the fact I have little one’s who look after me every single day.

I hope you find peace in this life because you deserve it and you are beautiful, you are a very beautiful precious soul. 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[xbalayage]

Hey Michelle!

I'm slowly but surely becoming obsessed with your Silvio text posting. Lol Please don't feel pressured to answer this if you don't want to, but I was just thinking.... how would Silvio be if you were killed and he feels like he could have (or somehow should have) stopped it?

Would he be someone who just loses all motivation to do anything, or would he be hellbent on revenge, or maybe want to do what he thinks You would want him to do? I'm just curious on how you think he'd react long-term.

Silvio doesn't handle it well AT ALL and sees it as a personal attack - an act of war.

Because EVERYONE FAR AND WIDE IN THE COUNTRY OF BENITOITE knows of his obsessive fondness of you. And to take the only source of happiness from him, the only person who's ever accepted him for who he was, saw the beast in him but loved him anyways. Learned of his past, the wrongs he'd committed, the wrongs he'd done towards you to push you away from him at first but it never scared you away; you never let go of his hand.

Honestly, others could've attacked him from any angle: him personally, his wealth, his possessions, his title. He wouldn't have given a damn in the world.

And now.. now he had no charming smile to wake up to, no warmth to fill his heart and bed, no one to make the smallest things feel like the greatest adventures. Who's love soften him as the days grew of the two of you together. No one to sass him off and tell him when he's wrong or even just to playfully give him a hard time, no one to eagerly await his arrival back into town on the docks. No one to crave for him.

But the fact.. THE FUCKING FACT TO STRIP HIM RAW AND BARE, SHAVING HIM DOWN TO THE BRINE AND BONE. TO SAVAGE A MAN FROM HIS HUMANITY AND NEW FOUNDED PURPOSE in life left him seething.

A lot of anger, rage and resentment still carried with him through the years but a deep sadness festered; the mere smashing of doors, broken vases, shattered mirrors and agonizing screams wouldn't ever bring you back to him. The thirst came back - he started to aggressively drink again to numb the pain, quench the thirst that he never imagine having to go through again.

Fuck, he hasn't cried since he was a kid; before, he had to dry his tears himself, wipe his chin and stand tall, make something for himself. Yet now, he'd give anything for the touch of your love to wipe his cheeks dry, the charm in your voice that made everything feel better, the warmth in your hands that would never let him go.

Now, all he's left with is a cold tombstone. Used of the finest materials, one he has meticulously kept in pristine condition, littered about with roses and all the things you've ever cherish and loved. Any moment, any chance he had, he was there with you. Reminisce, talk about his most cherished moments and memories with you, the gift you've given him that money couldn't ever come close to - and how he feels like he failed you.

He even wanted to commemorate a statue in your honor; a symbol of love, peace and hope. Etch your name onto the side of every ship. A mural done in your memory.

But it's once he starts to finally think, actually SIT and FUCKING THINK about who could've done this to you. Who hated his bare existence so much that taking your life would've made the assailant smile, knowing damn well you were the key to his weakness.

And there was only one bastard who immediately comes to mind. Who'd pull such a dirty move, who had lingering eyes in every inch of the continent, who'd laugh in his face and feign innocent.

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN.

"If war is what you fuckin' wanted, if a game is all but what ya wanted to play. Bring it the hell ON."

He couldn't bring you back and hell, maybe this isn't what you would've wanted him to do. But his eyes tunnel visioned, rational thought left his head a while ago. It wouldn't be a smart move to cause tensions with the Conquering Beast's nation and he knew that all to well. But with a little investigating, a little planning, a little money, and a lot of dirty playing; he'd win the war in your name.

Now, all he needed was time and the right opportunity.

[dragon-creates]

Dress

Funnybunny Week Day One: Wedding . It was just them, no one else. They didn’t need anyone else for this moment. If word got out about what they were about to do then Caine would find out, and all hell would break loose. It was best this was kept secret. Only the stars were witnesses for something as special as this.

Read on AO3

Hey ya'll! I'm still kind of on a break but I wanted to put a pause in it to participate in this year's first ever funnybunny week! This event was created by my good friend Ann, who created this on twitter. If you wanna take part in this, whether its art or fanfics etc, you can check it out here. Anyways, I hope you enjoy day one and hopefully I'll see ya'll tomorrow! <3

.

Say my name and everything just stops, I don't want you like a best friend - Dress by Taylor Swift

.

It was just them, no one else. They didn’t need anyone else for this moment. If word got out about what they were about to do then Caine would find out, and all hell would break loose. It was best this was kept secret. Only the stars were witnesses for something as special as this.

Jax and Pomni stood outside, bare feet against the plush grass as a warm breeze floated past them. The rabbit was wearing  a white blouse underneath a black blazer and trousers, while the jester had gotten rid of her hat and changed into a beautiful starlight shimmering dress with long sleeves and her long skirts trailing behind her along with a sparkling cape on her shoulders. 

In his hands, Jax held a small black box, holding onto it carefully as if it was the most precious cargo he ever had in his life. In this case, for him, it certainly was. 

He opened the box, two small wedding rings gleaming beneath the star-filled night. “Pomni,” he started, his heart already skipping a beat at her soft smile. “I might not be able to make this nightmare of a place go away, but I can promise you this. No matter what, I will be by your side. No matter what I will protect you from anything Caine throws at us. No matter what, I will love you more than anything else in this world and the next. You are the sun and moon itself Pomni, you make my life brighter every single day and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love you, will you accept this ring,” he held up the gold band, “And be my wife.”

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” a few tears streamed down her cheeks, Jax was pretty sure that he was going through the same thing. He slipped the gold band onto her tiny finger, kissing her hand and reveled in the way her pale cheeks turned into a strawberry hue. 

Pomni picked up the silver band from the box, this time it was her turn to speak. “Jax, I know that I’m not a perfect person. I get scared easily, I run when things seem dire, I become overwhelmed by the smallest things. But out of everyone, you’ve always been by my side to help me. Sure at first, you weren’t my favorite person,” she giggled at his fake offended gasp, “But over the months, I felt like you were the one who understood me the most. In a way, you were the most honest with me about this place. Soon, I got to know the layers underneath you. I know that despite your reputation as the resident jerk here, you still appreciate it when someone asks you if you’re okay. You absolutely love hugs even if you try to hide it, you turn into a real octopus whenever we cuddle at night. And when I wake up after a nightmare, you always say the kindest things to me, making sure that I feel safe enough to fall back to sleep. When we get out of here, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So please, take this ring, and become my husband.”

Jax carefully took her hand, guiding her to slip the ring onto his finger before taking both of her hands into his bigger ones, “I do, always and forever.”

“Always and forever,” Pomni repeated, her lips drifting closer to his.

Jax shivered as her breath washed over him. Unable to hold himself back, he swooped her up into his arms and pressed his lips against hers. Pomni returned the kiss with the same amount of passion, holding him tighter while he ran his fingers through her hair.

After a while, the two finally separated, laughing quietly as they pressed their foreheads together. 

It was just them, no one else. They didn’t need anyone else for this moment, this moment where two kindred spirits finally became husband and wife. Eloping under the midnight sky, away from Caine’s all seeing, prying eyes. 

Even when the sun would rise, and they would pretend that this night’s events had never happened. The warmth that the two shared could never be taken away. The love that they have will always be there.

Always and forever.

[livelaughwhump]

Worthless - Part 12

Masterlist | Previous

Content: reference to past noncon, self-deprecation, self-hatred, dehumanization, flashback, degradation, threat of noncon (flashback), fear of noncon, pet whump, hurt/comfort

This takes place the day after chapter 11 (3 days since Lyra left)

(Italicized text indicates a flashback)

-

Elliot stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His dull blue eyes were sunken. His previously tanned skin was pale and lifeless. There was no color in his cheeks, and hardly any light in his eyes. His sandy blond hair was stringy and greasy, even though he'd just had a bath a couple of days ago.

He was so thin, far too thin to be healthy. He'd always been much smaller than everyone else, thanks to his less-than-ideal childhood, but now, he didn't just look small. He looked fragile. No wonder his teammates were suddenly so gentle with him. He looked about as healthy as a skeleton.

Elliot ran a hand through his flat, lifeless hair, his fingers catching on multiple tangles. Several strands fell out and collected at the bottom of the sink. The sight made Elliot want to cry. He looked pathetic and broken. There wasn't a single thing that he liked about himself anymore. He used to be so confident and boastful, but now, he could hardly remember what the old him used to look like. All he could remember was the bright smile that his friends missed so much.

Elliot concentrated on his colorless lips as he tried to force them into a smile. It was shaky and forced, fake and weak, and it faded faster than it had formed.

Elliot's chin started quivering.

Have I always been this ugly?

A sudden knock at the bathroom door broke Elliot out of his thoughts. He flinched as Landon's voice said, "Elliot? You okay in there, buddy? You've been in there a while."

Elliot hesitated for a moment, waiting for his racing heart to slow before he slowly opened the door and faced his teammate. "I'm fine," he said in his small, broken voice.

Landon was silent for a beat before he said, "Okay. Just making sure." An awkward silence followed and Elliot nervously shifted his weight from side to side. Elliot kept his head lowered, unable to bring himself to look Landon in the eye. "You know," Landon started. "If something's wrong, you can talk to me." Elliot lowered his head even further. "I know there's more I have to do to make up for yelling at you the other day, but-but you can trust me, I promise."

Elliot nodded, and in the smallest voice he could muster, he said, "Yes, Sir."

Landon furrowed his thick brows in confusion. "Are you okay, buddy?"

Elliot didn't move. "Yes, S-Sir," he answered.

Landon kneeled in front of Elliot so he could look into the smaller man's downturned eyes. "Hey," Landon said, as gently as possible. "What's wrong?"

Elliot's breath hitched, and he closed his eyes to keep from looking directly at Landon. "N-Nothing, Sir."

"Why do you keep calling me that? I told you, you don't need to call me that. We're friends, right?"

Elliot bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir." His voice was shaking and he fought to keep his tears from falling. The truth was, he didn't know why he was calling Landon 'Sir'. It just felt right, it felt necessary, and he was too afraid to stop.

Landon sighed and Elliot flinched, biting back a whimper. "I'm sorry, buddy," he quickly apologized. "I'm not upset with you, okay? I just need to talk to Karine really quick and then I'll be back, yeah?"

Elliot stiffened as Landon stood and made his way around the corner. Elliot stood there for a few seconds once Landon was gone. He wasn't quite sure why.

He slowly dropped onto his hands and knees and started crawling toward the corner of the living room, where he hugged his arms around his knees and buried his face between them.

. . .

"Karine?" Landon shouted as he threw open the door to the leader's bedroom.

Karine gasped and started. She held a hand to her racing heart, as though that would slow it, and turned to face Landon. "What the hell, dipshit? Ever heard of knocking?"

"I'm sorry," Landon quickly apologized.

Hearing Landon respond with an apology, rather than his normal retorts, sparked panic in the pit of Karine's stomach. She quickly stood to her feet and approached him. "What's wrong?" She questioned.

Landon clenched his jaw. "Do you know what's up with Elliot?" He asked.

Karine furrowed her brows. "What are you talking about? What's wrong with Elliot? Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Landon admitted. "He-He just seems kinda down today. I mean, he-he won't even look at me and he keeps calling me 'sir'." Karine pursed her lips. "He was also just sitting in the washroom for like fifteen minutes. I don't know what's going on, but I'm worried."

Karine sighed. "He's probably just depressed. I would be too if I was stuck inside for over a year. Poor thing probably hasn't properly seen the sun in ages."

Landon ran a hand down the side of his face. "So, what should I do?"

Karine rolled her eyes. "I don't know, take him on a walk or something? Why don't you ask him?"

"Okay, first of all, he's not a dog, Karine." Karine glared at Landon for that, as though to say 'you know what I meant'. "And second of all, I tried asking him, but he just says that nothing's wrong. He doesn't trust me."

Karine folded her arms across her chest. "And who's fault is that?"

Landon's gaze wavered. He was well aware that Karine was still angry with him for yelling at Elliot. He already felt horrible about it and seeing her look at him like that just worsened his guilt.

"Karine, I'm sorry. I don't have an excuse, but I want to help him as much as the rest of you do. All I'm asking for is some guidance. He trusts you, and I want him to know that he can trust me too."

Karine merely stared at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "My only advice is to talk to him."

"But, he won't-"

"Talk to him," Karine interrupted. "And if he doesn't want to talk, leave him be. I think that's the best you can do for him right now."

. . .

Elliot stared forward at nothing, his eyes overflowing with salty tears. He was lost in his own mind, horrible memories plaguing his thoughts. In that moment, it didn't matter that he was safe and clothed and warm. He felt like he was right back in that cold cell, naked and covered in bruises while his owner loomed over him threateningly.

. . .

"Are you ready to be a good boy, mutt?"

Elliot sniffled and choked on his tears. "Ch-Christian, p-please-" the whip snapped down on his back, leaving angry red welts in its wake. Elliot whimpered, his arms shaking with the effort to hold up his exhausted body.

"Know your place, whore!" Christian shouted, whipping him several more times for good measure. Elliot struggled to stay on his hands and knees, as instructed. "I am your master now, and you will refer to me as such! Understand?"

Hot, burning tears streamed down Elliot's dirt-crusted face. "P-Please, l-let me g-go." Those words earned him five more lashes. "What-What did I do?" Three more lashes. "P-Please, s-stop." His voice was barely above a whisper now. One more lash and his arms would surely give out.

The whip clattered to the ground before Elliot's eyes, and Christian's hand snatched hold of his jaw, jerking his head up to face his captor. Elliot yelped, his eyes burning and his lip trembling. He felt absolutely pathetic.

Christian glowered at him with fire in his black eyes. "If this method of training doesn't work for you, pet, would you prefer a different method?" Elliot's eyes were wide and full of fear and tears. "You're already exposed and available for me to use. Would you prefer if I bend you over and split you open right here? You're already so delicate and weak. It wouldn't be hard. Or would you like to try to be a good boy for me? Your choice."

Elliot burst into uncontrollable sobs. This couldn't be happening. What had he done to deserve this?

Elliot sniffled and lifted his eyes to meet Christian's. "I-I can be g-good, M-Master." His stomach sank as the words left his lips. Christian had truly broken him.

Christian smiled and released his bruising grip on Elliot's jaw. "There's my good boy." Christian began to scratch behind Elliot's ear like one would a dog. Elliot whimpered, disgusted with himself for reveling in the gentle touch. "I knew you had it in you. You'll be the perfect little pet for me, won't you? You'll be a good dog for your master."

. . .

Elliot wrapped him arms tighter around his knees, trying to make himself as small as possible. He was trying so hard not to cry, but the memories wouldn't stop replaying in his head. That was the moment when his old self had finally died, the first time he had ever called Christian 'Master'. The first time he had embraced his role as a pet. He never fought again after that.

Elliot's lip started quivering again. He sniffled and clamped his eyes shut to stop the tears from escaping. He couldn't imagine how disappointed his teammates must've been when they found what was left of their friend. As much as they tried to hide it, he knew how much they missed the old Elliot, the one that was all smiles and laughter.

He didn't even deserve to be called by that name anymore. He was a pathetic excuse for the person he used to be.

"Buddy?" A soft, distant voice said. Elliot lifted his gaze from the ground to meet Landon's sky blue eyes. Elliot was barely tethered to reality, still trapped in his own harrowing memories. "Are you okay?" Landon's voice was slightly clearer as Elliot's consciousness slowly returned to his body.

As Elliot became more aware of his surroundings, his eyes went round.

Landon smiled awkwardly at him. "Hey, buddy. You okay?"

Elliot wiped the tears off of his face and bowed his head. "Yes, Sir."

Landon's smile died and Elliot tried hard not to burst into tears.

You just can't stop disappointing people, can you?

"Karine said you might be depressed. Is that what's happening?" Landon questioned.

Elliot didn't know how to answer. Depression was a human emotion and Elliot was just a stupid animal. He reluctantly shook his head. "N-No, Sir."

Landon hummed. "So, just having a bad day, then?" Elliot sniffled and clamped his eyes shut. "It's okay, you're not in trouble," Landon assured him. "We all get bad days sometimes, and-" Landon paused as an idea struck him. He smiled. "I think I know something that can help. Come with me." Landon stood up and extended a hand out to Elliot.

Elliot stared at the outstretched hand for several long seconds before touching the top of his head to Landon's palm. Landon pulled his hand back and looked at Elliot with confusion in his eyes. "What are you doing?" He asked.

Elliot flinched. "Wh-Whenever M-Master didn't have my-my leash, he-he would always pull me around by-by my hair." He hunched his shoulders. "I-I just thought-"

"I'm not going to pull your hair," Landon snapped. Elliot flinched and whimpered. "And I'm not putting a leash on you either. That's so fucked up."

Elliot tried so hard not to cry, his body quivering with the effort. "I-I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to offend you."

Landon took a deep breath and started over. "I didn't mean to snap at you, Elliot. I'm sorry. You haven't done anything wrong." Elliot's trembling slowed slightly. "I just wanted to help you up, that's all."

Elliot's face turned pink.

Dumb, stupid, brainless bitch

"O-Oh." Elliot placed a trembling hand into Landon's and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Elliot kept his head down as they walked. He didn't want to know what Landon was planning to do with him, but he did know that he would try to be good for him.

Elliot was a little surprised, to say the least, when they arrived in his own room. His fear only grew as Landon led him over to the bed.

"Okay," Landon began. "So, you can lay down and get comfortable. I'm just going to grab a few things and I'll be right back, yeah?"

Elliot glanced up at Landon when he heard his instructions. Landon wore a wide, proud smile. Elliot's eyes widened.

No, no, no, this can't happen again. Please, not again

Landon's smile faded. "Something wrong?" He asked.

Elliot panicked.

Be good. Be a good boy and maybe it won't hurt as much. Maybe he'll make it feel good

Elliot shook his head. "N-No, Sir. I-I will do whatever you say."

Landon didn't look satisfied, but he nodded and left the room, presumably to fetch everything he needed to use the pathetic little bitch he'd left behind.

It was then that Elliot's efforts to avoid crying failed. Tears trickled down his face as he sat on the bed, the place where he slept.

Hopefully he'll let me change the sheets once he's done

Elliot gingerly held the hem of his shirt between his thumb and forefinger. He sniffled and suppressed the urge to sob as he gently pulled his gray shirt over his head.

The cold air hit his bare skin and he started violently shivering. He'd started getting used to wearing clothes again, but he should've known it wouldn't last. He didn't remove his pants yet. Landon would probably want to do that himself just like Master.

Elliot kneeled in the middle of the bed with his head bowed. He quickly wiped away his tears and held his breath while he waited for Landon to return.

. . .

Landon was very proud of himself.

When he was little, his younger sister would have a lot of bad days, and he would always tuck her into bed with some tea or hot cocoa to cheer her up. Sometimes he would even read to her or put on her favorite movie.

He just hoped it would be enough to cheer Elliot up, even just a little bit.

Landon was grinning from ear to ear as he carefully carried a book, his laptop, and two mugs of peppermint tea into Elliot's room.

However, the moment he opened the door, his smile disappeared.

Elliot was shirtless and kneeling in the center of his bed. His shoulders were trembling and he looked like he was about to cry.

"Elliot?" Landon said, hoping his confusion didn't come off as irritation.

Elliot suppressed a flinch. "I-I'm ready, Sir." His breath hitched. "I-I will be good for you, I-I promise. P-Please, don't make it h-hurt."

Landon furrowed his brows. "What are you talking about?" He exclaimed, setting down all of his things on Elliot's nightstand.

Elliot whimpered and offered up both of his wrists, as though expecting to be restrained. "I-I will be good, Sir," he repeated. "I-I will be silent and-and still. I will make you f-feel good." Landon didn't understand any of what Elliot was saying, but he grew more and more concerned with each word. Elliot sniffled, and several traitorous tears slipped down his face. "I w-will be a g-good s-s-sex toy for you."

Landon's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "Oh, my God, Elliot, no!" He shouted.

Elliot flinched and yelped, but he didn't move from his submissive position. He didn't even lower his outstretched wrists.

Landon violently shook his head. "No, no, no. Elliot, I would never do that to you, oh my God! I-I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to make you think that I...oh, buddy."

Elliot was sobbing and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes to stop the heavy flow of tears. Landon desperately wanted to give him a hug, but he didn't think that was the best idea, given the circumstances.

"I-I'm so s-sorry, Sir. I-I shouldn't have a-assumed. I'm so stupid. I'm sorry."

Landon felt his heart drop. "Elliot, no," he said in the softest voice he could muster. "You're not stupid, and I'm not mad at you. I just-" Landon stared at the sobbing mess in front of him as rage boiled in the pit of his stomach. How could someone do this to another human being?

For some reason, it was only then that Landon realized what an assumption like this meant.

Fury burned behind Landon's eyes, but he wouldn't make the mistake of taking his anger with Whitlock out on Elliot again. Landon forced himself to take several deep breaths in order to calm his racing heart. Then, he knelt in front of the bed so he could meet Elliot's downturned eyes.

"Elliot, buddy, I'm going to need you to look at me for a second, okay?" Elliot reluctantly obeyed, lifting his teary eyes to meet Landon's. Landon's stomach clenched. He really didn't want to have to ask, to bring up such painful memories, but he needed to know. He needed to be sure. "Did Christian...do that to you?" He couldn't bring himself to say the word. That would only make it so much more real.

"D-Do what, S-Sir?" Elliot asked.

Landon's insides churned. He really didn't want to elaborate, but he knew he had to. Still, he refused to say the word. "Did he...use you? Like you thought I was going to use you?"

Elliot's face darkened with understanding. He tore his gaze away from Landon's face as more tears flooded his eyes. He gave a gentle nod, but he didn't do anymore than that.

Landon's heart sunk. He'd already known the answer, but having Elliot admit it was so much worse. Landon wanted to scream and break something, but he refused to do any of that in front of Elliot. He refused to traumatize the poor boy anymore than he already had.

. . .

How fucking pathetic is that? You're so useless and ugly and disgusting that he doesn't even want to fuck you! You really are good for nothing, you worthless bitch

Elliot wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He was utterly horrified at the accusation he had made, and he was sure Landon was too. Red hot shame crept onto his face and every part of his body was trembling.

Stupid, empty-headed mutt

"Elliot," Landon's soft voice said. Elliot couldn't move, couldn't bear to look at the man in front of him. He was utterly humiliated. Surely, Landon hated him even more now, especially now that he knew what Christian had done to him. Surely, he thought Elliot was disgusting and dirty. However, those thoughts did not match the words Landon said next. "Elliot, buddy, it's okay. I-I'm not angry or anything. I just...I'm so sorry that happened to you."

Elliot sniffled and wrapped his frail arms around his exposed body. "Wh-Why?" He mumbled.

A moment of silence followed. Elliot still refused to look at Landon, so he couldn't see the look on the older man's face as he said, "What?"

Elliot whimpered. "Wh-Why are you s-sorry? You-You don't l-like me."

Landon's eyes grew sad and his voice softened as he said, "Elliot...first of all, what-what you went through, I-I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy." Elliot lowered his head. "Second of all, whatever I did to make you think I don't like you, I'm so sorry. I do like you. I'm your friend, remember?"

Elliot's lower lip was quivering. "Really?" His voice was shaking just as much.

Landon thought for a moment. "Wait here," he said. He stood up from his kneeling position and moved about the room. Elliot flinched, his whole body tense as he waited for Landon to return. When he did, he was holding a mug, a blanket, and Elliot's discarded shirt. "Here, put your shirt back on." Elliot did as he was told. Grateful to cover up his exposed body. Then, Landon wrapped the soft blanket around the younger man's shoulders and handed him the warm mug.

Once Elliot was sufficiently warm and comfortable, Landon sat beside him, though a couple feet away. Elliot stared sadly into the contents of his mug. Landon pursed his lips and sighed. "When my sister was younger, I would always read to her when she was sad." Elliot glanced over at Landon. "Sometimes I'd make her tea and I would snuggle her up in as many blankets as I could find. Then, I would cuddle with her and read her one of her favorite books."

Elliot hesitated. "That's-That's very nice of you," he said.

Landon met Elliot's dull gaze. "That's all I was planning to do with you. You were having a bad day and I thought-" Landon broke off when Elliot's face fell and he turned his head away. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Elliot sniffled and stared into his tea once more. "It-It wasn't your fault. I-I was pr-presumptuous. I'm sorry I accused you."

Landon reluctantly reached a hand toward Elliot's shoulder, but he stopped himself before he could touch him. "Elliot, no one in this house would ever do that to you," he said as he pulled his hand back. Elliot didn't react. "Myself included. We all just want what's best for you. We want you to be happy. We would never hurt you."

Elliot took a reluctant sip of his peppermint tea. It was only lukewarm by that point, but he was still grateful for it.

Landon's gaze wavered. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Elliot glanced over at him. "About what?"

Landon hesitated. "About your time with...Christian. About what he did to you." Elliot tensed, but he didn't speak. "You don't have to. I-I just want you to know that I'm, um, I'm here if you need someone to talk to."

Elliot was silent for several long seconds, holding his breath to keep from crying again. "Th-Thank you, but-but I'm n-not ready." Elliot flinched, preparing to be hit.

"That's okay," Landon assured him. Elliot relaxed just a bit. "You can talk when you're ready. We're all here for you. You're not alone anymore."

Elliot hunched his shoulders, and in a brief moment of bravery, he said, "Landon?"

Landon hummed in response.

Elliot nervously fidgeted with the mug, tapping on the ceramic and swirling the contents around. "Can-Can you, um..." His bravery was beginning to fade. "Can you-Can you h-hold me?" He stammered. Elliot didn't dare chance a look at Landon. He didn't want to see the expression the larger man wore. "Just-Just for a little bit? I-I promise I'll be-be good."

Several long seconds of blistering silence followed and dread filled Elliot's stomach.

Stupid dog. He hates you, remember? He's disgusted by you! He knows what a dirty slut you are, now. Why would he want to be anywhere near you, let alone touch you?

Elliot started to cry again. "I'm sorry," he choked out. "Just-Just forget I s-said anything."

"No, no, no, it's okay," Landon frantically assured him. "I was just...a little shocked, that's all. Of course, I'll hold you! I'd be happy to hold you."

Elliot glanced up at the older man, his lower lip trembling. "R-Really?"

Landon forced a weak smile onto his face and awkwardly opened his arms. Elliot stared at him with uncertainty for a few seconds, sure that the minute he got close, Landon would smack him. Elliot's gaze wavered. "I won't hurt you, buddy. I promise," Landon said.

Elliot stiffly scooted closer to Landon and let himself fall into Landon's arms. Landon was strong, but not in a threatening way. He was warm and inviting. Elliot felt safe and secure instead of trapped. After a few awkward minutes, Elliot reluctantly melted into Landon's embrace, burying his face in the man's chest. Tears slipped out of the corners of his closed eyes as Landon began to rock him back and forth, rubbing soothing circles into Elliot's back. Elliot whimpered.

"It's okay," Landon whispered. "I've got you. You're safe. I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you again, Elliot. I promise. I've got you."

For some reason, Elliot didn't doubt a single word.

-

Sorry this one took so long, you guys! It's been a rough week, but hooray for another Landon chapter! I think this one ended much better than the last one

I didn't really get a chance to proofread this one much, so sorry for any typos!

Taglist:

@l-antre-des-merveilles @pigeonwhumps @nicolepascaline @burningkittypoet @whumpinggrounds @suffering-and-misery @make-them-scream @honeycollectswhump @rabass

If anyone wants to be added to or removed from the taglist, please let me know😊

[looneyleyle]

hogwarts corridors ~ g. weasley

synopsis: a classic strangers to something more, through the art of baring one's soul to someone they barely know. as they say, trauma bonding is the best bonding.

warnings: not proofread but that's to be expected

word count: 2733 words

ramona elwine's pov

fifth floor, just past the prefect's bathroom. i knew how to get there with my eyes closed after downing a dizziness draught. it was the best place in the castle to cry. very few were up there, just the occasional prefect, and they would never venture any further than the bathrooms. peeves usually left that part of the castle alone, never wanting to run into the tattle tale prefects. it was silent apart from the occasional birds and owls, but they never caused too much of a disruption.

what was a disruption to the peaceful crying spot, however, were two boys i liked to call tweedle dee and tweedle dumbass. george and fred weasley, respectively. for some reason, the two were nearly always up there, doing merlin knows what. i always heard their obnoxious voices and loud guffawing, though i was fortunate enough to never see them.

that is, i never saw them until one fateful night.

i was with chase sutton at the time. when i first met the boy, he was kind and charming, nothing like the rest of his slytherin comrades. he sat down next to me one morning for potions, and the rest was history.

over the months (two months and four days, to be exact), he slowly became colder and more disinterested. i didn't mind too much at first, the professors were loading us up with work and preparation for newts. i figured he was just busy.

i had known of the quiet corridor on the fifth floor for years, i discovered it as a lost little first year who was trying to find the library. for the longest time i kept away from it, only going there in the most stressful of times, in order to collect my thoughts.

and yet, after i saw chase and joan burgess sneaking into a broom cupboard with their hands interlinked, i found solace in the quiet of that little corridor on the fifth floor.

and naturally, as sobs shook through my body, a blurry ginger blob just had to appear.

"merlin, are you alright?" the blob asked.

"peachy." i glared, trying to blink away the tears to see which twin was in front of me. not that it would help, the two were identical and i knew nothing about them that could set them apart.

instead of taking the obvious hint that i did not want company, the blob sat down next to me.

"you're the girl that was dating that tosser sutton?" he asked, though he seemed to already know the answer.

"what do you mean by 'was'?"

"well, if the way his tongue was just down that hufflepuff's throat was any indicator, i'd say it's pretty safe to assume so. unless you have an open relationship, which i must say is a bit hot."

the information sent another wave of red-hot tears down my face. the ginger blob began to mutter apologies, squirming around uncomfortably.

"sorry, not the time." he mumbled. his arm then raised awkwardly, as if to put a grounding hand on my back. the icy glare i sent him was enough to have his hand back in his lap, tapping his fingers anxiously on his thigh.

"if it makes you feel any better, that hufflepuff doesn't hold a candle to you, and sutton is just a grimy little snake like the rest of them." his comment cause the smallest of smiles to spread on my face.

my tears eventually slowed, the ginger still next to me for merlin knows what reason. at one point, he started blabbering on about some prank he pulled with his twin fred, and the only thing i took out of his nonsensical rambling was that this was george sitting next to me. he eventually looked over and stopped talking, noticing the tear paths drying on my face.

"thank you for staying with me through this."

"of course. i couldn't leave a lady here all alone while in distress." he told me, standing up and dusting off his pants.

"i'm ramona by the way. ramona elwine." i said as he started backing up.

"i know." he said, the makings of a smirk twitching in his lips. and with that, the ginger was out of sight.

a week or so went by before our next encounter. i had officially dumped sutton (in the privacy of an empty classroom, much to the chagrin of my friends, who wanted a public accusation in the great hall). classes were going well, in fact, everything was splendid. things were not splendid, however, for my friend autumn taylor, who had just received the nastiest howler from her parents over an "acceptable" in transfiguration. in the middle of the packed common room, no less. her tears were growing rapidly in her eyes, and i knew where to take her to get her out of the spotlight.

when we got to the corridor, a pensive looking weasley was there, perched up by the window. at the sounds of my friend's sobs, he turned around, a smile on his face until he noticed the distress.

"ramona? is something wrong?" he asked. at the use of my first name, autumn sent me a quizzical look that i knew i would have to respond to later. for the moment, though, i focused on getting george out of here.

"everything is fine george, though we need this corridor."

"of course, of course. always a pleasure ramona, taylor." he nodded, walking away.

"first name basis with a weasley twin? spill."

i was back in the corridor the very next day, looking for autumn's hair clip. why i was there and she wasn't, i had no clue. something about detention with flitwick for merlin knows what reason.

when i rounded the corner, i couldn't even say that i was surprised to see that familiar ginger there, looking out the window, the same pensive look on his face as the day before.

"something must really be boggling you for you to be thinking this hard two days in a row." i started, getting his attention. he looked over and smiled, shaking his thoughts out of his head.

"i see you're alone this time. no crying companion." he commented, moving his body to face me and patting the seat next to him. i sat down next to him, and upon closer inspection, the worry lines were still etched into his forehead, and his smile didn't fully reach his eyes.

"you're dodging the subject at hand." i told him with a pointed glare and a playful shrug of the shoulder. he bumped into me in retaliation and looked ahead of us, surely avoiding my stare. he replied to me with some sort of bullshit, mumbling something along the lines of "'s nothing."

"don't lie to me weasley, you were here the other night too, what's going on?" his hand went over his chest at my comment.

"back to weasley? ouch ramona, i thought we were closer than that"

"maybe if you would tell me what's going on, i wouldn't resort to such formalities." i continued. i didn't know why i was prying so much, why i cared so deeply about whatever was plaguing his mind. he was just someone i've had a few chance encounters with, nothing more. at least, that's what i told myself.

george sighed, took a deep breath, opened his mouth, closed it, and repeated this on and on until he finally slumped down, looking at the floor.

"fred and i have this business going." he started, taking a final deep breath to collect his thoughts. "it's great. more than great, it's brilliant, really. it's what we're good at. making people laugh, helping them cause a bit of trouble." another sigh. "mum doesn't see it that way. she's been trying to get us to stop for ages, confiscating products, sending howlers, threatening to pull us out of hogwarts. i just- i just worry that we've pushed it too far. that someday she'll wake up and realize that freddie and i aren't worth the trouble anymore, aren't worth the owls home or the barely satisfactory notes. i mean, my brothers bill, charlie, and percy, they've all done something with themselves. billy is a curse breaker for gringotts. charlie's out working with bloody dragons in romania. even percy, stuck up percy, has landed himself a job at the ministry. but what have fred and i got? a shoddy box of puking pastels and skiving snackboxes to help chaps out of class. that's hardly admirable. i just can't help but think we're disappointing her by following our dreams." he poured. i sat there, almost stunned as he told me about his deepest insecurities. the infamous troublemaking twin, beloved by anyone with a funny bone, worried that he's a failure?

at my silence, george sighed, "sorry, that was a lot to dump on you." he ruffled up his hair and got up.

"i'll uh, see you around ramona." he said, an empty smile painted on his face. i was still flabbergasted, only able to call out his name as he walked off, him not bothering to turn around.

the seasons changed from the burnt orange of autumn to the still white of winter, and after that little moment with george, it was a while before i saw him again. well, i mean, of course i saw him, it's hard to miss his fiery red hair and the ruckus that always followed him and his twin, but i never got a chance to talk to him. he would send me little smiles as he walked by, but nothing of substance. i found myself craving time alone with him, walking up to that corridor almost every night, hoping he would be there, only for it to be empty.

with the change of seasons brought the change of headmasters at hogwarts. dumbledore was nowhere to be seen, the daily prophet accusing him of trying to overthrow the ministry, while umbridge took over. it was hell, but it provided a temporary distraction from my all-consuming curiosity about the redheaded twin.

i didn't see george in that corridor again until after holidays, after my very first detention with the devil.

my hand was burning, the script on my hand fresh and still bleeding a bit. i must not read illicit materials was etched onto the back of my left hand. the "illicit material" in question was a copy of a previous year's defense against the dark arts book. i was reading it in the library when cassius warrington, a slytherin git on the inquisitorial squad, snatched the book out of my hand and demanded that i do his potions essay for him. naturally, when i refused, i was turned in.

i made my way past the prefect's bathroom and ended up in the corridor, needing a moment to collect my thoughts. i couldn't stand umbridge and the way she was running hogwarts, but there was nothing i could do. there were rumors about some secret classes being held by students, but as soon as dumbledore vanished, so did the whispers of the meetings.

i must have sat there for hours, just staring out of the window, watching the snow fall. i was in almost a dream-like state, one that left me oblivious to the presence next to me until a hand was on my shoulder.

i flinched, turning towards the owner of the hand. my gut knew who it was, but my eyes sought the affirmation that it was, indeed, who i thought.

"you alright there ramona?" george asked, his eyes already finding my scarred hand. he took my hand in his, inspecting it.

"yeah, 'm alright." he looked up at me through furrowed eyebrows, not buying it. moving one of his hands to his robes pocket, the other still holding mine gently, he produced a vial of… some sort of liquid.

"do you trust me?" he asked. with much less hesitation than i should have, i nodded my head, watching his movements closely.

"this may sting a bit." he warned before letting a few drops fall onto my injured hand. it stung for a second, but my eyes widened as i watched the scars fade a bit. they were still there, but healed over, as if i had them for weeks already. i looked up at george in awe.

"how did you do that?" i asked, inspecting my hand. it still hurt a bit, but not nearly as much as before.

"something freddie and i cooked up a while back. couldn't stand watching any more first years going to bed in pain." he told me, his thumb ghosting over my scars. my heart swelled in my chest, words caught in my throat at this. every interaction with the ginger left me more and more enthralled by him.

"you sure you're okay love?" i could only nod, not trusting any sounds that would come out of my mouth. george left it at that, simply scooting a bit closer to me and watching the snowflakes flitter past the window.

when i wandered up to that fifth floor corridor almost a week and a half later, i would have laughed at meeting the redhead here yet again, if it weren't for the slight sobs wracking through his frame.

"george? what's going on?" i asked, quickly making my way to his side. he looked up at me with tear-filled eyes, a half smile gracing his face.

"we have got to stop running into each other like this." he laughed, though his tears kept me from returning the action. i fell into our normal routine, sitting ever-so-slightly too close to each other, looking at the other with so much unspoken care and... something a lot heavier than that. he twiddled with the sleeves of his robes for a second, glancing at me, uncertainty swirling in his eyes.

"freddie and i are leaving." he told me. the words didn't process in my brain.

"leaving? what do you mean leaving?" a sorrowful smile graced his lips.

"we're leaving hogwarts. there isn't much of a future here for us." i just stared at him, taking in this information. he took this as a sign to continue. "we had enough saved up to buy a lot in diagon alley. it has a little apartment above it, and it's perfect. winding stairs, wonky layout, it's as if it was meant for us." he paused for a moment, glancing over at me, as if trying to read my reaction. "we're opening up shop. weasley's wizard wheezes. mum... she doesn't know about it quite yet. i'm not ready to face her disappointment." i looked up at george, and even in this moment, i couldn't help but admire him. he was following his dreams, but his love for his family was evident.

"you're going to do fantastic. you both will. i've seen the impact you guys have on everyone here, i have not a doubt in my mind that the shop will be a hit. as for your mum... she'll come around. once she sees you two doing what you love, once she sees you two genuinely happy, she'll understand." george smiled over at me, a genuine, full smile, before bumping my arm with his, settling himself right up against me.

"aren't you gonna miss me?" he teased. my heart clenched at the thought of him not being here, and i'm sure my face betrayed the internal battle my emotions were going through, because his smirk dropped off of his face.

"it won't be the last time you see me, i guarantee it." he told me, his voice small, vulnerable. i turned my head to look up into his eyes, my nose nearly hitting his. the words died on my tongue as i watched his eyes lower to my lips. my heart raced in my chest, before he spoke.

"as much as i love spending time here in this corridor with you, which i do, more than life, i was wondering if you would like to go somewhere a little less depressing? hogsmeade, maybe? tomorrow?" his confidence was evident, but an underlying hint of vulnerability of doubt crept in at the end.

"i'd love that." i whispered back to him, his brown eyes no longer sad or tear-filled, but now swimming with excitement, before turning back down to my lips, my own eyes doing the same.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

ARC: Lenas first day back to work

CW: panic/anxiety attack

(again, if you're not familiar with this series, I recommend you catch up, as there's a lot of back story)

---

When Sam is asked to stay home for Lena’s first day back at work after the tower collapse, she’s quick to acquiesce. Between the incident and Lena’s return to their shared home, she has yet to deny any of Lena’s requests. So when Lena leaves for the office with briefcase in hand, Sam boots up from home.

She tries not to worry, tries not to hover even remotely. (She’s proud to say she only checks in once over lunch– the fact Lena’s reply is curt and cursory is shoved from her mind.) But she’s prepared when Lena comes home, wound tight as a spring. She doesn’t take it personally when Lena blows past the kitchen where she’s waiting and heads upstairs, and she only follows when she doesn’t hear movement from Lena’s bedroom for a good ten minutes.

She finds Lena seated at her boudoir, left hand clutching the edge of the dresser with a white-knuckled grip. She barely breathes, her features stormy as she stares tearfully at the dresser top.

“Oh, honey,” Sam murmurs.

Just like that, the dam breaks. A sob bursts out of Lena, rough and jagged. She releases the boudoir only to clamp her hand over her mouth as the sobs come hot and heavy. All Sam can do is wrap around Lena from behind, a grounding rod in the storm of tears and emotion.

“I-I k-kept trying t-to shake their hands,” Lena heaves between sobs.

“I’m sorry.” Sam rubs Lena’s arm. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

“I-I couldn’t even– sign my own name!” 

Sam knows that’s not entirely true– weeks of occupational therapy has ensured Lena can fully write with her left hand, both print and cursive. But Sam understands what happened– Lena had fallen into old habits, habits as reflexive as breathing, only to be sharply reminded that she’s no longer the same.

Lena gasps sharply, her hand flying to her chest, and Sam knows what’s coming. 

“I– I can’t– I can’t breathe!” 

Sam centers herself behind Lena and breathes deeply, letting her belly expand to press against Lena’s back. All the while she continues to rub slow and soothing circles against Lena’s arm.

“Breathe with me,” she urges quietly. “It’s okay, you’re with me in your bedroom. Just focus on me. Breathe in… and out…”

The attack passes– longer than Sam would like but shorter than others they’ve worked through– and Lena finally deflates like a balloon, exhausted. She sniffles, releasing her death grip on Sam’s wrist to wipe her face.

“I’m sorry–”

“Lena Luthor.” Sam’s voice cuts sharp through the air, brooking zero argument.  “Don’t you ever apologize for needing comfort.” 

Sam moves to crouch beside Lena, getting on her level to look her in the eye. “It’s what I signed up for– what I promised when I married you.” 

Mentioning their marriage is risky. They haven’t truly discussed what relationship they share now, let alone mended the things that drove Lena apart from her and Alex. But as far as Sam is concerned Lena is still her wife. Her wife who needs her, even though she hates to need anyone.

Sam takes Lena’s hand and presses the back of it to her lips. 

“I will always be here for you– for better or worse. And I will never think less of you, not for anything.” She offers a gentle smile. “And I am so proud of you for what you’ve done today. It wasn’t easy, but you did it. Just like I knew you would.”

For Lena’s part, she leaves the marriage comment alone. Instead she gives the smallest of damp, tremulous smiles. “Thank you,” she says quietly. She gives Sam’s hand a squeeze. “Give me a minute?”

Sam nods, and rises to leave the room. ONce downstairs, she listens for a moment and is relieved to hear Lena getting changed and washing up. She knows they’ll likely never talk about what just happened again, but Sam pulls the exchange close to her heart and holds it tight.

Not only had Lena shown her vulnerability, she had allowed Sam to help comfort her. And that, more than anything, is enough to give Sam hope that their marriage may not be over after all.

//prompts are closed

[fragileizywriting]

"the reason why you're so let down by your own art is because you have expectations for it," my ceramics teacher told me, senior year of highschool, where i was trying to make something and i was getting frustrated because i didn't have the skills to build it. with that, she'd essentially made me stop crying on the spot— i was sobbing, because i wasn't sure about anything in my future, and we were nearing the end of the year and i couldn't even make one stupid ceramic piece.

at the time, contextually, life was getting hard.

i was practicing 5 hours a day for solo-ensemble; 2 hours during school and 3 hours after, while trying to pass my graduate-required classes, unmedicated with terrible ADHD. i was exhausted. i'd lost a friend group because they didn't like that i was putting music before them, because i wouldn't see them in the mornings because i was busy in the practice rooms with the pianist working on beethoven, of all things, showing up nearly an hour before school opened for classes because i was so unsatisfied...

and idk. the weight just kind of got to me. i won't lie, being 17-18 was hard. it's too much. and i was just having such a bad time, trying to make something in the one class that actually felt like fun, as opposed to singing that had taken over quite literally my whole life. (it dominated. i couldn't do anything. prospects of going professional; of going to a school specifically for music, because i've done it my whole life, played so many instruments and sang for so long, i even had a dream for three months of becoming an opera singer, because there was a local school that practically everyone who was in this section of my hs got shipped off to after they graduated.) so when i couldn't make a simple rectangular prism out of clay, i just started sobbing. full on tears. i couldn't even breathe.

i think i was having a panic attack.

i remember my ceramics teacher so well, how she was one of those old women who drank green and blue smoothies for breakfast and had expressive, abstract acrylic earrings. her art room was a mess, and it was always made worse by just how she lost everything all the time. you couldn't tell if it was grey hair or clay. she had the smallest, narrowest glasses you've ever seen, full of clay on them, too. all she wore was denim overalls, or flightsuits, and it looked nice on her. i think they fit her really well, and hid that she was skinnier than a normal spine.

she just sat me down—- i don't know how she saw me over the stack of massive sketchbooks on her table, the ones that she was grading them for her 2d drawing class—- and told me that.

"the reason why you're so let down by your own art is because you have expectations for it."

god, i was so embarrassed, crying in the middle of class. it was horrible. humiliating. i couldn't stop myself from crying from embarrassment.

i remember asking her, "isn't that the point?" because this was for a grade, i needed points, i needed all As in my classes because that was the only way in to get to the college that i wanted.

"you're being graded on intention, not the actual box. and you're having too much expectation of yourself to make a perfect box and it's hurting you. it doesn't need to be a perfect box. who are you making?"

she was so smart. she'd clocked immediately that i wasn't just making a random box, but rather a way-too-specific design. i told her that i was creating a character of mine.

"he doesn't need to be perfect. i hope he isn't perfect." she kept repeating that over and over again while i broke down in tears again. with one look at my sketchbook, she went: "oh. you don't even need to make a box. if the box isn't working, try making a hotpocket shape. show me that you're having fun. don't spend so much time trying to fix it."

i still have the ceramic i made. i've been digging through my drawers today looking for a notepad when i found him and i got shotblasted back into the past. it's not bad. it's a little broken, because there was always a girl who loved making things to break in the kiln, so some pieces are missing. my box can't even stand on it's own, either, because it tips forward from the weight (and causes it to break more).

i'm glad i made him, anyway. he's really important to me.

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / Chapter twelve

Chapter List

Sylvie

It was something Tommy had told me when I was a little girl. The flicking of the switch in our brains. He'd used the metaphor to explain our mams suicide to me when I was too young to understand anything about depression, anxiety and those twisted intrusive miseries that so often drive people to their early graves.

I'd told him I didn't understand why she'd done it. Why she'd walked herself into the cut like that and left me and Sunny playing in the street. Why she'd let us watch. Why she'd let herself freeze. And that had been his answer. That some families are born with a switch in their heads, and that things can tick along just fine for a very long time, and we can be happy and full of love, and then one day the switch ticks over and a person changes. That they stop feeling like themselves, that they get a bit lost... That they can do things without really thinking or noticing what theyre doing... He'd said that thats what had happened to our mother. Her switch had flicked over because she'd been very sad for a very long time. Id asked him if his was going to do the same and he'd smiled, lifted me up to sit on his hip and kissed my cheek.

"No love, not mine, gonna be here with you forever I promise..."

And I'd believed him. Back then I'd believed him desperately. Now however I was an adult, I'd grown to understand the Shelby disposition, I'd grown to understand that it was a little more complicated than Tommy had let me believe back when I was a girl.

Because it wasn't just misery that could flick the switch, and when it did change and the current flowing through you changed with it, it was more than just "not feeling like yourself" that shook you. It was a heavy sinking feeling that slowed you, left you split down the middle and wrong on both sides. A little piece lost forever when the crack ran down your spine, so that even when the switch flicks back the other way, you're never the same. Never whole, never completely fine.

In the past I'd seen Arthurs switch change, I'd seen Tommys, Id seen mine. Id felt the split in the hollows of my bones and the digits of my fingers. That heavy seperation. Nothing grounding you. Mind severed from the body, body left wandering.

Id felt it before but never like this. Never over something as twisted with sorrow and bitterness as this.

Usually the switch flicked off at the smallest - to others- seemingly trivial of incidents. A lower than expected grade, failure to make even the short list for an audition. Seeing on of the other girls make a step more elegant and delicate than I could. Usually the switch flicked and I did my usual, took advantage of the numbness, pushed myself harder whilst I couldn't feel the hurting. Less meals, training harder, less sleep, lies told to Sonya and Ada, lies told to my doctor and teachers too. When I couldn't feel the hurting I could dance on injuries and grit my teeth through gruelling long days and nights.

Now however the hollow felt deeper, lodged somewhere in my ribs like a bad seed and the plan I'd pieced together in my head was far more dangerous only because I was far more certain I could see it through. Even if things didn't go my way.

When I brushed past Isaiah and made my way quietly to the bedroom it was Arthur I was thinking of still. His shakey voice, his determinations all but dust by the time Tommy had finished laying into him.

It was the thought of the tears in Arthurs aging weary eyes which had split me this time. It was the image of my big brother, trembling with rage and dissapointment, trembling with ley down, that kept me calm and quiet and steady as I wandered to the windoe frame and turned to face Isaiah.

"You're going to take me to london," I said plainly, looking at Isaiah with an unwavering certainty. My voice so quiet, so serious that for a second he didn't know how to respond. He looked at me with the beginnings of a smirk on his lips as he took a step back, the smirk becoming a hesitant chuckle, the grin lingering on his face awkward but amused as he waited for me to start laughing too.

"Oh no," I said my lips twitching with the smallest smirk, "please don't do that," I said holding his gaze, watching him wavering, "Don't think I'm joking Isaiah cause I'm not... You're gonna take me to London to meet with Alfie Solomons..."

"No," he chuckled, "fuckin no sweetheart, I'm not..."

"You are."

He kept grinning, turning away from me with a laugh of disbelief, shaking his head as he closed his eyes and sniggered into his sleeves.

It should have been infuriating, I should have been upset, but that switch had flipped and so instead I felt nothing. Just stood there, leanibg back against the cool glass in the bay window, tilting my head back to feel the mullions. Just waiting for him to realise I wasn't laughing.

"I'm not love, cause I don't wanna be skinned alive by your fuckin brother right? And if I go downstairs now and tell him I'm taking his fuckin baby fuckin sister off to London to meet with a fuckin king pin, your brother will skin me alive and feed my fuckin corpse to the dogs..."

I let out a disinterested sigh, tapping my fingers on my collar bone slowly, meditatively.

"You're not going to tell my brother you're taking me, dinlow."

I spared a glance out the top corner of my eye, noticed a damp shadow on the cieling high above us.

"Tommy charged you with my protection did he not?" I asked.

"Aye which is exactly why you ain't going to fuckin Camden..."

"Then you'll take me to London," I said with a shrug, ignoring him when he tried to contradict me, raising my voice just slightly when he tried to deny me again, "because if you don't... I will fuckin throw myself from this window yeah?" I said, my hand behind my back flicking the latch undone, a gentle pressure all it took to open the glass like a door stepping out to nothing but grey sky and grass pollen.

The breeze blowing in around my body is what swept his grin from under him. The cool air hitting his face, forcing him to look me in the eye and try to work out if I was winding him up. If this was some kind of Shelby trick. And perhaps it was, it just wasn't the kind you could smile about and it certainly wasn't think kind he'd have expected from me. The naive girl he'd grown up with, the one who hadn't been able to look him in the eye since she was ten years old.

"Nah," he said, his voice shaking with a nervous laugh, "love don't do that..." he was watching me, hesitant to believe me and yet, I could tell that he did. I could tell that he recognised the shelby resolve in me. That he was probably thinking of my mother just then as I edged just leaning over the window pane. Not enough to destabilise me. Enough to scare him.

"Seriously love... Come on Sylvia you ain't fuckin funny come here..."

"I'm not being fucking funny Saiah..." i said, "You're going to agree to take me to London or I'll let myself fall."

He looked at me then like he didn't recognise me. Like for a second he thought he was looking at somebody else. I held his gaze, my eyes glazed with a seperation Isaiah had only seen in my brother Tommy before. A death sentence kind of emptiness. The shelby resolve as I'd heard my father call it once before he'd left us.

"Say you'll do it Isaiah, quickly... Make your mind up or I will fucking fall!"

Now I knew he believed me, his hand shaking by his side, his eyes dark not with fear but anger in the moment before he grabbed me by the scruff of my shrug and kept his grip tight so that I couldn't do as I threatened.

He didn't move me from the ledge however, just held me there, his fist clutching my cardigan. It wouldn't actually be enough to stop me if I chose to let go of the window frame.

"You're fuckin stupid if you think I believe you for a second lass... You ain't suicidal over a fuckin ballet and I don't know what you think you need to see fuckin Solomons for but you ain't going... I ain't fuckin riskin me neck to take you alright?" he hissed, not raising his voice, not really scaring me like I imagined he wanted to as my hand slipped unseen under his tshirt, nimble fingers wrapping round the grip of the pistol tucked into the back of his jeans.

"Fall from this height won't kill you anyway love but I promise you you'll never dance again..."

He didn't feel a thing, too caught up in the glare he held, his hand still shaking as he held my flimsy cardigan in his hand, to notice my subtle movement until it was too late.

"Guess I'll have to make fucking certain then right?"

Until I was pointing his gun at my head, cold eyes determined to stare him out until the end.

He faltered when he realised what I'd done but only for a moment, making to knock the gun from my hand, forgetting I'd been pulling nimble little stunts since I was four years old. Not realising the damage I could do in the second it took him to make his move.

I'd brought my knee up swiftly and he'd be keeled over before he could process what I'd done. Knocked all the air out his lungs and left him stumbled back, holding onto the bedpost to stabilise himself. No longer holding into me at all.

"I said make your mind up Isaiah, I know you aren't stupid... You know I'll do it..."

He was wheezing when he looked up at me, his eyes struggling to open, in too much pain to speak properly though he tried.

"What the fuck do you want with Alfie fuckin Solomons?" he said through a wince, still clutching his groin, standing slowly, regarding me with hesitance then, "jesus Sylvia would you put it down?"

"Not until you tell me you'll take me."

"Right... Right... And what's stopping me shouting for your brothers right now yeah? Calling them up here..."

"I'll have hit the ground before they make it up here," I said with a small smirk, a shrug which disturbed him.

"You're fucked up Sylvia..."

"Yeah,"

"This is fuckin... Its fuckin unhinged love put the fucking gun down!"

"Keep your voice down Sai, wouldn't want anyone disturbing us..." I said lowering my voice to a deadly kind of quiet, my calm reminding him of Tommys calm. The quiet insane. The certain kind.

"Syl please... Lower the gun eh? Don't be daft sweetheart lets, lets just fuckin talk about this for a second eh? Please love..."

I'd never seen Isaiah beg before and the sight amused me, I couldn't hide the small smile which tugged at my lips.

"Nothing to talk about Isaiah... Help me with this or watch me fall... You're being awful hesitant Sai, starting to think you won't mind either way..."

"Jesus fuckin... For fuck sake Sylvia!" he groaned head in hands, "fuckin...fuck, fine... Fine I'll take you to Alfie's, but just fuckin promise me first yeah, if I do this you'll give me the fuckin gun and you won't ever point that thing at yourself again alright?"

"No," I said, "get me one of my own, I like it..."

"What?"

"Get me one of my own and I'll give you yours back... otherwise how will I know you're not just going to go straight to my brothers?"

He starred at me in disbelief, jaw hung open, face still stuck in that half cut expression of discomfort. I hadn't just scared hjm, hadn't just caught him by surprise. He really wasn't sure, in that moment, he really wasn't sure who he was talking to. He just knew it wasn't the Sylvia Shelby he'd known all her life.

[regatoni1]

~Chapter Fifteen~

Thinking about how Hisoka asked you and talked to you in general today, you realized he sounded kind of unsure.

You wondered if he even had any friends. You had never seen him really talking to anybody but yourself, and most people stayed clear of him in general.

It hurt you a little bit, not the fact that Hisoka didn't have any friends, but how it must feel having people avoid you. People who have never even met you, not even giving you a chance to prove your worth as a person.

It almost brought a small tear to your eye, knowing how cruel the world to be, even to the strongest people. 

Looking up at Hisoka, you now noticed the slight tinge of sadness under the bright gleam of gold in his eyes.

Quickly, you hugged him. You didn't want him to feel alone anymore. You knew how that felt, and you couldn't bare to see that on anyone else. No matter what Hisoka had done in the past, you made it your goal to see that he never felt lonely going into the future.

His arms slowly wrapped around your waist, pulling you in a little more.

"Promise me something," you said solemnly. "Promise me that whenever you feel lonely, you'll come right to my side, ok?"

"Ok."

Slowly pulling apart from the embrace, you smiled weakly wiping a tear that smeared the star he painted on his face.

"Hey princess stop crying, you'll ruin your makeup," you almost whispered, not wanting your own tears to spill over.

He chuckled lightly, and slowly stood up, offering his hand to help you. You accepted with gratitude, and leaning his face close to yours, his breath the only thing you could focus on, he quietly spoke;

"Well I think I should start collecting cards now, don't you think? We wouldn't want our Hunter trip to end quite yet, now would we~?"

You almost scoffed.

Right back to the old Hisoka, huh?

Pushing him away, "Yeah well, I better go find my two adoptive kids. I have no idea what trouble they've caused by now."

And with that, you went your separate ways.

Wandering off into the forest, you were just hoping to come across one of your kiddos. 

You had decided that Gon and Killua were your friends, but you liked to refer to yourself as their older sister, or maybe even a mother figure.

The thought made you giggle as you made you way into a clump of large trees.

Hearing grunting and groaning, you calmly walked towards the commotion.

You saw the group of three brothers, whimpering on the ground under Killua.

"Ah! Hey Killua I was looking for you!"

"(y/n)?" he asked turning toward you.

"Did you get your target?"

"Oh uh yeah I did."

"Cool. You should probably throw the other two away, just for the guy who's following you to get a little exercise."

Seeing the mischievous look in his eye, your lips turned up in the smallest of smirks.

"Ok," he said calmly, his demeanour nor not changing one bit as he threw the two badges in opposite directions farther than you could see.

"Good luck. You have three days left to find them," Killua said to the three brothers.

Snickering, you and Killua walked away.

"You switched them right?" you asked.

Killua put his hands on the back of his head and nodded.

Now full blown laughing, you gave him a high five, making Killua laugh a little too.

"So do you have your target, (y/n)?" he asked.

"Um no. I actually have no idea where my target was. I just found three other people who kindly gave their badges to me with absolutely zero argument. Just don't ask them about it," you responded quickly, making it your turn to make Killua laugh.

The two of you kept a lighthearted conversation up until you found a shallow river. Eyes twinkling, you gasped and hastily stared taking off your boots and clothes.

"Gah!" Killua yelled, turning around and covering his eyes. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Having already stripped to your underwear and already knee deep in the water, you whipped around and scolded the boy for his language.

"Killua! Watch your language! I haven't gotten the chance to bathe on this island yet! And besides, these things cover more than a bikini would! I know you're young but grow up a little would you!"

Huffing, he took off his boots and waded in the water with you for a little bit. He looked like you had just told him that he had to go to school, all days of the week, with no summer.

Smiling deviously, you splashed him, soaking his clothes straight through, and then quickly swam away.

"Hey you old hag! How did you soak all my clothes with one splash? I'll get you for that!"

He started chasing after you, but with his legs being so short, he tripped and face-planted right into the water.

Laughing so hard you were at a risk of peeing, you saw Killua get up and mutter to himself as he stomped out of the water.

After a while, you got out of the water as well, drying yourself off as best you could before putting your clothes back on.

Looking at Killua, still drenched with water, you giggled and decided to collect some sticks to start a fire so he didn't catch a cold.

After convincing the stubborn boy that the fire was for you, because he "didn't need to be taken care of", the two of you talked about his past, but more specifically his family.

The Zoldyck's had always interested you, and you had actually seen Illumi who was on a mission once in Meteor City.

You remember that day vividly. You were sitting atop the tallest ruin you could, watching the city from above. You had always liked watching from above, seeing every person and imagining their own personal backstories. A princess here, a high school boy there, an airplane pilot to the left.

It comforted you, thinking that there were some people who had nothing but happy memories and normal lives. 

It was on one of these nights that you had noticed the man crouching on the corner of a building diagonal yours. He was wearing a green and gold outfit, his black hair billowing in the wind. At the time, you had no idea you were staring at an elite assassin, but you had imagined you were looking at a misplaced college boy, lost in his own thoughts.

He suddenly jumped off the building with meaning, like a predator closing in on his prey. 

After that night, you never saw him again, but something about him and his aura made the memory stick in your mind.

You and Killua talked for most of the night, until the fire turned to ash and you decided to go and sleep in the trees. 

For the next two days, the two of you wandered around and talked about whatever popped into your heads in that moment. Subconsciously, you strengthened a bond that had started out so meekly.

Arriving at the designated spot for the boat pickup, you reconvened with Gon, who had faced Hisoka and won, and had quickly learned that all of your friends had passed this phase.

On the boat back, you stood at the side, resting your arms on the railing, admiring the water when you felt Hisoka stand next to you. He didn't seem sad, so before he could say anything perverted you turned to him with the excitement of a child and asked;

"Wanna play rock paper scissors?"

Chuckling, he nodded. The two of you slid down and were now sitting against the railing, you completely concentrated on the game that you had to win.

Hisoka, on the other hand, was concentrated on who was playing the game with him.

[aleatoryone]

In the graveyard

The sun begins to set down behind the dark clouds that poured rain all day. The streetlamps begin to light up, and another night begins on the small city. I looked past the graveyard. Normally, it is a silent place in which people can pay respects to their loved ones. For a moment, I thought today wouldn't be different, especially in a small city like this, when a notice a small purple thing beneath the graves. It looked like some kind of silk. 

I get closer, in an impulse of bravery, and begin to hear sobs and tears falling. The purple silk turned out to be a girl’s hair. It's Abigail. Daughter of the local grocer, known for her adventurer wannabe lifestyle. I consider her a friend of mine at this point. We've done a lot of things together. 

I have never seen her crying, though. 

I enter the graveyard. It seems that she noticed my presence and tried to recompose herself. Her clothes are soaked due to the rain that felt down all day, her normally pale face is completely red, and she didn't seem to care the smallest about all of that. At least, until now. 

“Abi?” I spoke, trying to get a sense of what happened to her. 

“Oh, hi.” She said shyly. “Not trying to be rude, but why are you here?” 

“I saw you crying. I thought you may need some help.” 

“Everything’s alright.” 

“Sorry to bother, but you don't seem alright.” 

“I'll be. You don't need to worry about me.” 

I notice some tears rolling. She seems so weak. I wipe her tears away and hug her, reassuring things would be okay.  

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk...” She sobbed. “Is that I know it’s not a big deal.” 

“If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be crying.” 

“Seriously, I'll be alright, you shouldn’t be bothered.” She muttered. “It’s just... eh... ah... I can’t.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“Like, I know I shouldn’t be crying. Everyone around here has their reasons to cry. Sebastian and his father, Shane and his depression and alcoholism, Jodi and her husband, and here I am, crying because things don’t go my way, like the spoiled child I am.” Abi confessed, between the tears that were escaping her eyes. “And that’s what makes everything worse.” 

“You’re not a spoiled child.” 

“I am. That’s how you perceive me, all of you.” She breathed deeply. “And I do notice the faces you guys make when I say or do something.” 

“Girl...” 

“I heard Haley saying that once near the library, with everyone agreeing. That’s one of the reasons why I don’t say anything to anyone.” She bemoaned. 

“Not even to Sam and Seb?” 

“I don’t know... I was never that close to Sam to begin with... I’d hang out with him because Sebastian does. But Seb has been acting weird lately... it seems his jealous of you and me. He’s barely talking to me now.” 

“Is that why you were sad in the first place? Come here.” I whispered just before hugging her once again. 

“It can be one of the reasons. I don’t know… I don’t even know how to tell you what I feel... sorry. Guess I kept everything hidden for so long that I can’t control anything anymore.” 

“It’s okay. You just shouldn’t be bottling your emotions--” 

“I KNOW! But who will I ever talk to? No one cares!” 

“I care.” 

“…you do?” She says looking directly at my eyes. Her face shows a mixture of thankfulness and surprise. 

“I suppose we’re good friends since the day we’ve been at this graveyard practicing.” 

“Thank you. For real. I was afraid you didn’t consider me a friend of yours."

================================================

I always thought Abi would be that kind of person that suffers a lot in silence. Like, damn, she comes from a disfunctional family, have her feelings and wishes invalidated etc. I've never seen any piece of art that reinforces that.

So I decided to make one myself, and I'm finally brave enough to post it for the world to see.