#i still love them a sick amount but they don’t make me deranged

[somebodylovesyougcv]

i have just come to the chilling realization that i am simply just not into glee as much as i used to be anymore. like i used to see a singular klaine gif and scream and cry and now it just elicits not a normal reaction but a more relaxed one? versus when i see a singular mcwexler gif i actually start rolling around on the floor moaning in pain. i knew that this would happen eventually but i don’t want it to. how do i get back into this. Should i even do that to myself

[plantfeed]

she’s just flashed him her nipple, and there ━ bright and boisterous, the honking sound of his laughter. to others it might sound ugly, and perhaps even a little deranged, but lo wants to bottle the sound. it’s the sound of her favourite person in the world in pure joy. what isn’t to love about that? one hand tangles up into his hair, keeping his head locked there against her, nestled between her shoulder and neck while her lips plant kisses across his scalp. “you make me feel cosy and safe…” comes her only sappy response, cheeks tinged red enough that she can’t meet his eyes for a second, scared that she’d coming on too strong, that this thing between them is as fragile as it is fast, that if they’d fallen into it so quickly, surely they can fall out of it just as fast. it’s like a stolen ice cream van travelling at eighty miles per hour along a freeway, not equipped to handle the amount of pressure on the gas, the two of them rolling about in the back, nothing but the mr. whippy ice cream handle cranks (and each other) to cling onto. still, she melts into his kiss like soft scoop beneath a hot autumn sun, any notion that they’re going too fast flung out the proverbial window onto the windscreen of an unsuspecting driver two cars to the left. “i’m bad at caution. especially when it comes to you,” lo admits, freely, thumb trailing down over his nose as she speaks, fingers shifting to cup his jaw in the palm of her hands. “don’t be cautious. please be rabid with me. it sounds exciting.”

her mouth kisses it’s way across each eyebrow in turn. then she turns her attention to his neck, kissing and biting her way over the skin. “if love be rough with you, be rough with love…” lo starts, a theatrical leaning to her voice, like it comes from the mouth of another woman, her hips slowly shifting against his. “prick love for pricking you, and beat love down.” lo quotes as easily as if it were written by her own pen, formed by her own tongue. “mercutio says that in romeo and juliet.” a swell of pride blooms in the apples of her cheeks like she’s expecting a first-place rosette. quite often, people are surprised when lo talks about shakespeare with such reverence, such love, but he’s the founding father of the theatre itself. how could she not be infatuated? “and it sounds pretty, but all it’s really saying is if love makes your dick hard, then, um… fuck about and figure it out? shakespeare was a horny fuck. they all were back then. feel like slut shaming wasn’t really a thing.” with a spotlight profile like lo’s, she’s mastered the art of segwaying from shakespeare into sex, her back catalogue of bianca’s and olivia’s and desdemona’s doing more to earn her notches on her bedpost than they’ve ever done to score her screen credits. and now frankie’s probably thinking about it, and thinking about doing it with her, and knowing that it’s hours until the two of them will be alone, and somehow to lo that makes it even sexier. they find sexiness in suffering, like the times they went for dinner and refused to fuck afterwards, two bodies begging to be knitted together in the same pea pod, practically buzzing from it, but let it fester instead like some puritan act of self-flagellation. but admittedly, it had made the first time feel even better, like a reward at the end of a long work out, like eating chocolate again after forty days of lent. fuck, yes, finally. god. she can’t stop thinking about getting him alone. can frankie tell? can he read her mind? blink twice if you can read my mind.  “when you look at me i feel like i’m a person, y’know? like it just reminds me that my life is happening right now, you know, and i’m here with you, and the world is spinning so fast, and i’m so grateful that you're holding me and keeping me from flying off it.”  she swallows thickly, a 'but' lodged like a hard-boiled sweet at the back of her throat. “but the thought of you looking at anyone else like that kind of makes me feel sick to my stomach. i hate hate hate the thought of you looking at anyone else the way you look at me. please don't. please, please, please don't like anybody else the way i think you like me.” 

The way Lo held onto Frankie made him feel worthy of her care and attention. Affections were like - an addiction that he knew full well he needed help for. Tomorrow, after one last hit. Lo made breathing easier, even if it also sent him off the edge - unhinged, insane, frankly a bit obsessive. But Frankie was an unreliable narrator, and his logic had never been sound. If Lo wanted to hold him and kiss him and tell him everything he wanted to hear, then he could reciprocate, and with enthusiasm. That felt fair - it helped that she liked it, the panic of scaring her away nonexistent, ceasing any hesitations to exist. Once Lo was contorting her corset, flashing Frankie a lone nipple despite them being amongst a crowd, he couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter. Literally, a bark - Frankie didn’t laugh often. He struggled to emote even when he was at his most ecstatic, uncomfortable with showing an inch of his feelings on the inside where they were uncontrollable, couldn’t express himself with his own words. So he hid his face in the crook of her neck to try and diminish whatever honking was currently coming out of him. “I think - I’d like my insides to stay… in there too. They, uh, they’re cozy and safe there.” Frankie always mumbled when he spoke, but it seemed to be worse now. He was just so distracted - Lo had a great nose. He couldn’t help but appreciate her nose, it was just right there. Demanding that he stroke down the length of it, tap at it’s buttoned-point. “My insides - I think there’s, uh, some pretty gnarly… scarring. It won’t look pretty. And my eyes… I-I just went on about. How much I, um, love looking at you. They’ll be hidden. It feels… mean.” Still, despite their hypothetical fears, Frankie kissed her anyway. He could risk being turned inside out and upside down if it meant getting to kiss Lo, still. “You’re gonna have to be. The cautious… one. Of the two of us. Because - I’m not particularly worried about, uh, my health enough to not. Just be rabid with you. Sorry.”

[keilemlucent]

(nsfw) ✧ (dark content warnings) ✧  (minors do not interact) 

hawks | takami keigo x reader

wc: 1.7k

warnings: abuse, noncon/dubcon, yandere, vomit due to illness, delusion, reader is definitely not mentally well, brief description of injury, hawks is Not nice in this, reader has difficulty eating, 

a/n: uhhh it’s 2am, time to post dark drabble lol!! i love like.... deep yandere stuff. when darling’s already been In It for awhile and worn down. mwah. chefs. kiss. anyways, here’s my take!

You want to know what rain tastes like.

Is it different than water from the tap? You had asked him one day. He chuckled but didn’t give you an answer. Just an easy deflection, something unrelated to pull your mind from the outside. 

It is easier this way. 

It’s so much easier to draw the curtains in the morning. Damn the sun, damn the light— You can take vitamin D supplements and pretend you don’t mind how dark the apartment is no matter the time of day.

It’s easier to ignore the multiple locks (seven. you count them sometimes to pass the time) that are bolted into the door. The time it takes him to open them with all their tumbling gears and thundering clicks is the preamble to his comings and goings.

You know to rise from your damn-near sacred spot on the couch to greet him. You go to him with a kiss on his cheek, and to give him hug so hard, it hurts. You can’t tell if it’s from the strain of your arms around his, or the pressure of his embrace around you. You don’t particularly mind either way. It’s the reminder you need that as empty and dark as the apartment is, he’ll always return.

Always.

You lock your hands behind his back, clasped below his wings. Routinely, you bury your face in his chest while he sways you. He asks about your day, but he isn’t listening. You don’t think so, but you don’t mind. Nothing you say means much, and every day is the same. You sit on the couch and stare at the floor. The walls. The ceiling if you’re feeling more adventurous.  

You stopped watching TV alone months ago. No matter what you watched on Keigo’s big, sleek television, it was just a reminder. An awful, unavoidable reminder that the world is quite large, and you weren’t apart of it.

You couldn’t be. You were locked in place— one, two, three, four, five, six, seven — in the little apartment. Wasting away, as much as you tried not to.

...

“You need to eat, baby,” Keigo coax. He holds a deep spoonful of soup to your lips. It smells divine, like chives and cream. “Just a little. For me?”

‘For me.’

Your inability to stomach anything is his problem, just as much as it is yours. That’s just a fact.

“I don’t want to get sick again,” You squeeze your hands. There is a semblance of comfort in the action as Keigo inspects you. Searching.

It isn’t a lie. Your stomach growls and rolls, and it has been all day. Keigo has started to always leave ample leftovers in the fridge in the case you’d actually want to eat them. And you do. Sometimes, you even try! Really try. But the end result is always the same. Your head ends up dangling over the bowl of your toilet while you wretch and writhe. 

Acid stings your throat for hours. 

Despite Keigo’s... previous treatment, he seems genuinely concerned about this development. You’re hardly able to keep anything down, despite being well otherwise.

(You’re so unwell and have been for so long, he can’t begin to see it. The bruises are perpetual. The scars that you didn’t have a year ago are fixtures he can’t remember you without. The constant tremble you carry is from the drafty apartment, not from the deeply instilled fear you carry. The one he had branded (literally) onto you. Into you.)

(Fucker.)

You shake the thought off and open your mouth and accept the bite. And Keigo, bless his heart, is sweet enough to not shove the spoon to the back of your throat. He lets you suck the soup from it, quietly praising your work.

You manage to eat half the bowl before shaking your head, tummy already twisting in the worst, most familiar way.

Keigo gives you pills then. Four of them, all slightly different colors and shapes. You don’t know what they do, and you knew better than to ask (you’d gotten slapped across the face the first and only time you tried.) 

The fourth pill is new, and Keigo, graciously, tells you that it’s for the nausea. That a special doctor is helping him help you. Isn’t that wonderful?

You’re so, so lucky.

 (You hurl the next morning once the meds wear off. Your hands shake and your slam your fist into your temples. Begging. You’re not sure to who. Maybe to yourself. Your body. Crying for your wretched form to just stop hurting you. If you weren’t sick, things would be better.

Maybe, you’re begging Keigo. For help. To make it stop. To take care of you and coo that things will be fine as things are so completely not find that you can’t comprehend it. But he is the one who decides when you hurt. Shouldn’t he be able to make this stop?

Maybe you’re begging him to unlatch those — one, two, three, four, five, six— seven locks so you could dash into the world. Scream at the first person you see that beloved, pro-hero Hawks is so beyond deranged and fucked up. Maybe no civilian would believe you. But you were the evidence. You bore the slashes of his feathers. The perpetual imprint of his fingers on hips and thighs. You even had a brand on the bottom of your foot. K-E-I-G-O.

Maybe, you’re begging to whatever god you once believed in to kill you. You don’t care about the means. Be it your hand, or Keigo’s, or random chance.)

 You spew into the murky water and try to forget.

...

Keigo’s special doctor comes by. You see the two exchange hands by the door when she first arrives. A flash of bills and coins. Paid off, part of you perks up. The doctor won’t talk about Hawks’ little captive. You’re sure it’s a handsome amount, based on the neutrality of her expression as she takes you in.

To care so little about something like you is hardly a surprise.

She examines you, collects some blood and other samples. Prescribes a few more medicines that have long and complicated names that are hard to pronounce. You try to forget them. You’re happy to be quiet. Sit next to Keigo while he wraps a wing around you and rubs your back in little circles. He’s warm and good, unlike the rot in your stomach.

 Keigo praises you once she leaves, wrapping you up in him, scarlet feathers and all. Kisses your cheeks, telling you how well you did. How you didn’t falter, didn’t scream, didn’t let her touch you too much. How you were so perfect for him. You deserve a reward! 

He treats you to fresh sheets and more kisses. The kind that feels like how lovers are supposed to kiss. There isn’t too much teeth or tongue, just slow, open-mouthed pressing that makes your tummy flutter in a good way (for once.)

“Isn’t this nice?” Keigo hums against your lips. 

You nod, barely eager but not apprehensive either. Treading lightly on a carefully, self-cultivated path between wanting and revulsion. As good as it feels, you don’t want to give him. You don’t remember how.

His lips trail to your neck, to your collarbones. He pushes up your shirt and only leaves little pecks over your nipples and chest. No wounds that draw blood. No hickeys that last weeks. 

You don’t realize you start trembling until Keigo has to grip your inner thighs to still you. So, he can coo blessed, little reminders.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?”

“I always make you feel so good.”

“You deserve this, all of this,” he says before pressing his lips to your clit. You’re just wet enough for him to fuck you on his fingers. Enough that when he bullies the bundle of nerves inside you, you coat his fingers in slick and whine. Your voice breaks, over and over, and little, unwanted tears leak into your hairline.

Keigo ignores them as usual. You can be so dramatic.

And Keigo, ever gracious, let’s you shatter on his fingers. Doesn’t make you beg, just whispered hushed adorations as you come undone on his tongue. He hardly toys with you after, and instead lets you fall into the sheets. Properly spend, though not exhausted.

You still shake, but that’s okay. It’s manageable.

Keigo cleans you up with a silken cloth. He wipes between the swell of your breasts, down your navel and to your cunt. His feathers ruffle as he does his work, clearly focused. There’s no speaking during it, only watching and observing.

“Thank you.” You speak without prompting. 

Your words are dry and underused. Your lips feel chapped, and your vision is hazy in the dark of the bedroom. 

Keigo gives you a smile (full of white-hot pride), clicking his tongue, “Of course, dovey. You deserve to feel good for me. I want you to. I like you like this.”

(He carries that same sentiment that no matter your ‘post-fuck’ state. Whether you’re twitching and dumb from overstimulation. Whether you’re bawling from pain and holding your hand over a too deep, ‘accidental’ wound. Whether your expression is blank, lips ajar, and face tilted to the ceiling.)

You can only agree with him.

What other option do you have?

...

(The doctor calls the following week. Keigo speaks to her in hushed tones from his office, muffled and stern. You only catch pieces of it.

“They do not appear to be suffering from anything specific illness.” The doctor pauses. “The weakness, fatigue, shakiness, forgetfulness, and nausea all seem to be tied back to prolonged anxiety. Constant surges of adrenaline that have pushed them to this point.”

Keigo doesn’t bother asking the source.

He knows it.

(And honestly? He seems a little proud.)

 You return to settle on the couch. Ever practiced, you turn towards the door and find the locks.

One, two, three four—

That four one wouldn’t be too hard to pick, would it?

(You’d already tried months ago. It was just a chain lock, but Keigo had nearly snapped your wrist when he caught you trying to tamper with it.)

Five, six, seven—

Your stomach rolls and your hug your knees, still managing a smile when Keigo rejoins you. His wings flex, and he flashes you a golden smile. His phone is locked and in his hand, and you know he’ll ignore it for the night. He’ll wrap you in his arms and smother you with his wings.

It’s better this way, you remind yourself, turning from the locks.

[moonyblackwerewolf]

Betrothed Ch. 4 - Sirius Black

Betrothed Ch. 4

Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Sirius and Y/N meet at a family dinner and have some fun, later she finds out she is betrothed to some pureblood boy so Sirius comes up with a mental idea to save them both.

Warnings: Kissing, hints of sex, aggressive parents, underage drinking, idk my writing and English? lol

a/n: Oh my god this is so long! I hope you guys like it, i think there is only 2 chapters left, idk yet. Anyway Feedback is always welcome, thank you guys :)

Xxxx

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch. 2.5 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch. 5 

When Y/n got home, she had time before going to the Malfoys, so she was planning on how to gently tell her parents she didn’t want to go and that she wasn’t going to accept their marriage proposal too. She spend days thinking and decided it was time, because her mom was already telling her to get prepared to go, so she sent a letter to Sirius as promised telling him she would talk to her parents on that day. 

Later the family sat down in a living room and waited for Y/n to say what she wanted to.

“So? What do you want to tell us, your father and I are busy” her mother said impatiently, not knowing the bomb her daughter would throw at her.

Y/n took a deep breath and said “I don’t want to marry Malfoy, I’m not accepting his proposal.” As simple as that single phrase sounded like, it cost her so much more. Her parents were outraged to say the very least, how could she misbehave after all those year of being so obedient.

“What do you mean you won’t? Yes you will, the Malfoys are getting their answers next week” Her mother screamed.

To say her parent were furious was an understatement. She was disrespecting not only their choice of husband, but also their ancient family traditions. But in reality that’s exactly what she felt like, those traditions were ancient and full of nonsense, it is completely wrong to promise a girl to some narcissist, conservative, arrogant, aggressive prick and make her spend the rest of her life with him, loosing all of her liberty.

“Are you calling Lucius a prick? He is a member of one respectable family Y/n!” Her father grunted, grabbing his wand.

“Why? Because they’re pureblood?” Y/n yelled, since she was already fighting their principles she might as well do it right. “That’s nonsense why would a blood status change a person? It doesn't change anything, I know many muggle borns who are ten times better people than you are, you think you can judge everyone, just because you’re pure? Or rich? Or call yourself royal? Which is absurd by the way, you and I know there isn’t royalty in our world, you only say that because you want to be better than everyone else, so you lie and you’re powerful enough for people to believe you” she roared, it felt incredible to take some of her frustrations out of her chest for once in her life, she didn’t have to pretend to be a well behaved purist, like she was before.

Mr. Watson wouldn’t believe his daughter, he didn’t want to, so he kept blinding himself from the ugly truth that he was indeed wrong. “I won’t tolerate you disrespecting our tradition Y/n” with a wave from his hands Charles hit Y/n with the Cruciatus curse, taking her to the ground almost immediately. 

“Dad! Stop- you’re hurting me, please! You’re hurting me” She cried and begged and squirmed, it felt agonising the pain touched each and every part of her body, the tears ran freely down her face, after being hit a certain amount of times she just felt numb to the pain, she stayed still wrapping her knees with all the strength she had left.

“You are going to marry Lucius Malfoy and you are going to accept his proposal in person when you go to his house, because you’re still going and I don’t want to hear a single complain or any of these ideas you cultivated in your mind, you are going to bring us respect” With no remorse her father left her there small, hugging her legs and crying alone, earning only a polite nod from her mother followed by a ‘I warned you’ look.

The rest of her time at home went by so slow she thought a whole month had passed, she was now feeling so bad being in her own house that she almost wanted to go to the Malfoys. Her parents weren’t even letting her see the mail, which meant she wasn’t receiving Sirius’ letters. Her sister wouldn’t talk with her anymore, scared of having the same fate as Y/n and her brother didn’t even know what was happening with his little sister.

The day she was going to the Malfoy manor had arrived. Her parents dropped her there in that shark tank like it meant nothing, they didn’t even bother saying good bye, she had come a long way from being the perfect daughter, who was always respectful with her parents and their ideals. Being at the Malfoys felt like being in Azkaban, but it was still better than being at home at least, there she was treated with extreme respect by Abraxas Malfoy and his wife, they were doing it out of interest of course but it was better than nothing, her only problem was Lucius, she hated him and hated even more that she’d need to sleep in his bed with him and even more that she’d have to accept his proposal by the end of the week. She felt stuck.

After having dinner Mrs. Malfoy showed you to Lucius’ room, while the house elf carried Y/n’s trunk next to the bed. The room was nice and big but it was cold and dark, she felt bad in there, fear creeping into her chest as her whole body felt numb, she just wished she could be in Sirius’ bed in the dormitories, she didn’t know why but there, by Sirius’ side was the most perfect place to be, she felt warm and safe.

“That’s it sweetheart, goodnight” after showing the room, with a final goodbye Mrs. Malfoy let her there alone, with Lucius. He was handsome, sharp jaw, strong upper body, beautiful face, she couldn’t deny it but it felt so wrong, it was sickening, she didn’t love him, she couldn’t, he was a terrible person.

“Look Y/n/n, I have to say, back in Hogwarts I was a bit jealous from you and Sirius, but now, being here with you, feels so right” he said as he was inching closer to her “Come on, let’s go to bed” his fingers were brushing her waist, the single phrase and action made her feel sick, his touch was ice cold, but what choice did she have. Y/n knew the punishment she’d have to face if she didn’t behave

“Ok” she replied, mouth dry “I’ll go change, in the bathroom”. She opened her trunk and looked for comfortable pyjamas, but to her surprise there were only vulgar sleeping clothes and lingeries, she felt a cold in her spine that made her sicker, her mother had it all planned out, crazy she thought, her mother is crazy. The last straw was when she saw a note from her mom.

Bought you some new clothes for you to share with Lucius.

Love,

Mom

She wondered what would It feel like to have a real caring mother, not one that just clearly wants her to have sex so she can have grandchildren. But she was born on a deranged family. She had no choice, so she just chose the pieces that were most discreet and even those weren't even a bit discreet, it was a black lace bra that at least covered her breasts perfectly and went a bit down and matching panties, if there was something she was sure of, it was that she didn’t want to see Lucius’ face when he saw her.

But again, she had no choice, when she entered the room again Lucius gaze fell directly on her chest. “My eyes are up here you know right?” She asked with a bored voice, while lying down in bed, much to her dismay.

“Feisty” he chuckled lying in bed besides her “I’ve always liked you Watson” Lucius was being a tease but she could see it in his eyes that he was drooling over her. She hated it. So she turned over and closed her eyes, wanting desperately to sleep for the whole time she’d be stuck there “Good night for you too, love” the nickname Sirius used to call her seemed so cold now, sounded fake coming form Lucius’ mouth. That night her thoughts kept going back to Sirius, she wondered if he was trying to talk to her, trying to reach her somehow but being unsuccessful thanks to her cruel parents. She missed him, his touch, his affections and she missed Lily, if she was here they’d talk the whole night and then maybe it wouldn’t fell so lonely, she missed reading with Remus, joking and pranking people with James and how protective he was and Peter’s cute but sarcastic comments, she missed her true family.

The next few days sucked, Y/n was running out of the less vulgar clothes, Lucius was always trying to kiss her and get close to her and the Malfoys’ forced kindness was beginning to annoy her, on top of that she didn’t feel like home in this house, she didn’t feel comfortable to do anything, basically she was counting the days until she could go back to Hogwarts.

——————————

Sirius knew something was wrong when Y/n didn’t answer any of his letters, assuming that she’d now probably be at the Malfoys, he needed to talked to her. The thought of Malfoy touching her and the things he could do made his blood boil, she was his friend after all. But things at his home weren’t good, his parents were breathing down his neck so he need to find a way to escape, so, of course he asked James for help.

James and Sirius had come up with a plan, but it was certainly dangerous and potentially problematic, just like everything they did. The plan was: Sirius would sneak away from his house, once he managed to do so he would meet with James in his house and the both boys would go pay the Malfoys a visit, once inside Sirius would need to distract the Malfoys since their families are friends while James helped Y/n run away to his house. It wasn’t quite a brilliant plan, they didn’t have much time to think, but Sirius needed to be sure she was safe.

Now Sirius thought he would have great difficulty running away, he waited for everyone to fall asleep to leave his bedroom, managed to avoid the elves, went to the broom closet, grabbed a broomstick, everything was doing great, except for one thing. Sirius’ brother Regulus thought he had herd something and went downstairs, only to find he’s rebellious younger brother trying to run away.

“What do you think you’re doing this time of night Sirius?” Regulus asked not even a bit surprised by his brother’s actions.

Shit, Sirius thought, he had two options lie or tell the truth. He chose the boldest one “Reg, don’t tell our parents” he looked helpless for the first time in his life, Regulus was quite startled “I need to save my friend, she’s in danger. I know we’re not in the best terms but, do this one favour for me-” he paused “I really care about this girl, she’s the Watson’s daughter, you know her”

“What? The Watson’s… you mean Y/n? What happed Sirius? She’s my friend too, is she okay?” He was going to tell his parents before but now he was curious and worried, he liked Y/n, she was nice to him on eventual encounters in their common room or classes.

“She’s- she’s being held captive at the Malfoys” it wasn’t a lie.

“Held captive? And what about her parents? her dad is the Minister of Magic Law Enforcement, what is it you can do that he can’t and on top of that why are the Malfoys supposedly holding her captive?” Regulus was being particularly annoying, he was suspicious of Sirius’ intentions.

“Her parents gave her away, they want her to marry Lucius, but she doesn’t. And i’m willing to ask for her hand if she accepts me, but she wanted to confront her parents, which clearly went terribly wrong” Sirius tried to defend his theses but he didn’t know if Regulus would be willing to let him go or he’d say that she has to marry who her parents want.

“You’re being absurd Sirius, it can’t possibly be that bad, it’s a marriage, considering our families, it’d happen sooner or later. You can’t stop it, if the Malfoys tell our parents they’ll kill you” Regulus was irritated at first, she was only doing what she was supposed to.

“I’m going either way” Sirius wasn’t letting his brother get in the way.

“Ok.” Sirius would be lying if he said he’s jaw hadn’t dropped to the floor. Actually Regulus was quite shocked too, hearing he’s brother say he was willing to marry a girl and a girl that their parents would approve was indeed shocking and he liked Y/n, the thought of her suffering made him less strict with his brother for once.

“W-well- hum ok then” Sirius left as quickly as he could, afraid this was only an hallucination.

James was waiting for Sirius with his bedroom’s window open. When he entered they both went to bed and talked until they fell asleep, the next day would be eventful. Assuming they woke up right before lunch, the boys hurriedly set everything necessary for the plan, muttered apologies to James’ parents and went to pay a visit to Lucius Malfoy. The weather outside was cold, but the sun was shining, making the travel rather beautiful, but the boys didn’t even notice, they were too worried, James couldn’t stop thinking about how Malfoy was treating his best friend, he hated him so much, Sirius had another motives, he hadn’t realised yet and it may take a little push, but he was jealous.

Arriving at that creepy mansion James and Sirius separated, James sneaked in quietly looking for Y/n’s belongings, while Sirius knocked on the door. The house elf asked him to come in and called his master. Mrs. Malfoy was quite surprised but tolerant.

“Good Morning, may i ask your name?” She asked politely 

“Oh i’m Sirius Black, Walburga’s son” 

“Oh! Sirius what a pleasant surprise, is Walburga going to visit us today?” 

“No madam” he paused, grabbing a gift he stole from his parents earlier “my mom asked me to give you this present, I don’t really know why, she didn’t want to tell me what it was” He never lied so badly in his entire life, but knowing Y/n was probably miserable was distracting him.

She found it suspect but didn’t do anything, it was better ti ignore it “How lovely, come in and have lunch with us, Y/n and Lucius will be thrilled to see you” Mrs. Malfoy suggested, probably trying to maintain friendly due to her relationship with the Black family.

Y/n really will, he thought. 

When Y/n saw Sirius she felt hope rise in her chest for the first time since beginning of the break, she ran and hugged him tightly, the hug felt warn and safe, she didn’t want to ever let go. But she had to, the action was inappropriate. “Sirius!!! What are you doing here, what a lovely visit” she said winking at him, trying to hold composure but failing.

“Sirius” Lucius greeted him too cordially “Came to visit my fiancé?” He asked with a smug look on his face.

“Not yet, darling” Y/n retorted with a fake smile

Sirius sat next to her at the big table, the room was dark and big, the table was made of hardwood the only light sources were the sun and a weak candelabra, the room had a giant fireplace that was probably the only warm place in the house and heavy curtains. When Lucius and Mrs. Malfoy were distracted, Sirius whispered to Y/n “Say you have to go to the bathroom, James’ waiting for you outside, he probably already has your Trunk”.

His word startled Y/n, that was a dream come true, but she couldn’t “Sirius, I can’t leave, my parents would kill me” she paused to check if no one was listening “If I run it would create a conflict between my parents and the Malfoys and I don’t want to be caught in the middle of it.” She said pretending to pay attention on Lucius’ commentaries “I’m going to stay here” she continued, shocking Sirius completely.

“But your parents want you to get married Y/n, are you just going to- marry Malfoy and the rest of your life with him?” she looked tense, knowing she’d have no choice, he hated seeing her like that. 

Suddenly she heard Sirius clear his throat loudly, scaring her “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk with Y/n” he paused, the Malfoys were now looking at him “In private, if you allow us- it’s urgent” Mrs Malfoy looked a little confused but nodded. Sirius took Elena out of the room almost immediately.

“Y/n why in the name of Merlin are you staying here?” 

“I can’t go Sirius, I told you, the Malfoys wouldn’t be happy, it could cause a conflict my parents want to avoid” Sirius didn’t look convinced, he knew she was just making excuses but he didn’t know why.

“Really? Isn’t you’re family the most powerful in the sacred-twenty-eight?” He commented mockingly “Why would they be scared of the Malfoys?” Sirius could see the fear in her eyes, she wanted to go but was scared, so he sat her down on a coach near and asked her with those protective grey eyes that made her feel so protected “Y/n, it’s alright you can tell me anything” he said covering her hands in his protectively.

“No, i-i i can’t tell you” He squeezed her hands reassuringly saying that no one would know if she told him. She took a deep breath, e/c eyes staring at his grey ones “If i run, my parents, will kill me” she said eyes now full of fear, it made them look darker.

“Theoretically, right?” He asked concerned, knowing deep down what kind of family the Watsons were, he was surprised with his shock, cursing himself for the stupid question.

“No Sirius!” She whispered shouted “They’ll actually kill me, you want to know how I ended up here at the Malfoys after I told them I didn’t want to come? Do you?” She looked at him waiting for an answer, he nodded “They used two of the three unforgivable curses on me, every day until I agreed to come and marry Lucius” her voice was cracking “They used Imperio, made me not move and then used Cruciatus, I was feeling so much pain that I thought I was going to die and worse, I couldn't move a toe, I couldn’t even try to ease my pain by screaming and moving because i was under their control.” His eyes were now burning with anger “To get me to come here they used Imperio again and I don’t them to use it ever again, I lost all my free will, so what choice do I have?” Her voice was cracking, fighting the urge to cry, only the mere thought of what had happed scared her. “They’d rather see me dead than seeing me go rogue and ruin the family name” she paused, taking a breath and continued, desperation written all over her face “Why do you think i’ve always been pureblood propaganda for my parents? The gracious perfect daughter, perfect sister, the perfect student? because if I did what you do” she gestured at him “They’d kill me” She finished, looking at him, eyes begging for help, face trying miserably to hide her emotions. Sirius was scared, not even his parents had ever done something of the sort and they creative punishers. So he wrapped her in his arms not wanting to ever let her go, wanting to protect every strand of hair in her head. She melted into his embrace, all of the fear and agony being soothed.

“Oh Merlin Y/n, i’m so sorry” Sirius almost cried when she hugged him back tightly, looking for safety in his arms, the arms she knew so well. After a few moments Sirius said abruptly “Marry me Y/n” he felt her body stiffen “Please, I know you can handle this on your own, but I don’t want you to” he paused, caressing her hair “Please marry me, the Black name should be enough for your parents to accept the union, just let me take care of you, please” 

For the first time, Y/n didn’t protest, she just nodded and buried her head on his chest, she knew this plan was reckless and would make her parents angry, but she couldn’t control herself, it was like her body couldn’t take the pain anymore. “Y/n, go find James, he’s outside. I’ll talk with Malfoy, please just go, ok?” He kissed her forehead, as she stood up and went to find James.

Sirius went back to the dining room and explained that Y/n had to go home, because she would refuse Lucius’ proposal. The Malfoys were startled and outraged, she didn’t even have the guts to tell them herself? She had to bring another boy? It was all a waste of time and i’d be a disgrace for the Malfoy name if someone found out their son were rejected by a Watson, but surprisingly Sirius managed to convince them, no one created excuses as good as him. Surprisingly the Malfoys didn’t try to stop him, it was a miracle, even though they couldn’t do anything since Y/n wasn’t their daughter and it’d make a scene that could ruin their reputation, that wouldn’t last long though, they needed to run, because they would certainly contact Y/n’s parents to give a piece of their minds, it was a deal after all, they didn’t understand what happened.

“Well then Mr. Black, we hope everything’s turns out to be fine” Mrs. Malfoy politely sneered with a wave of goodbye.

“Eh-hm Thank you Mrs. Malfoy, we’re sorry for the inconvenience” Sirius said a bit nervous, leaving the room as quickly as he could.

While Sirius was talking with the Malfoys, Y/n was running to the front gate where James was waiting for her. “Y/n/n!” He shouted as he saw her running his way, when she arrived he wrapped her in a bear hug lifting her off the ground. “I’m so glad you’re okay” he said warmly, form this day on, feeling her fear as she hugged him back James considered her his sister and she considered him her brother, since he protected her, risked a rescue when she needed the most, that meant the world. 

“I’m glad to see you too Prongs” she chuckled lightly at his protective brother hug.

“Here” he said pointing to his broomstick “We’re going together, to my house, when Sirius arrive” she nodded climbing up the broom behind him.

James and Y/n were already waiting, ready to leave, when Sirius showed up getting on his broom saying “Let’s go, let’s go before they warn your parents” and taking off, James following right after. Riding their brooms fast against the cold winter air, happy that their mental plan had worked. When the trio arrived at the Potters, James’ mom was in the garden, certainly not expecting her son and his friend to arrive with a h/c girl with e/c eyes stained with tears.

“James, care to explain?” His mother asked unable to hide her surprise, but going to help the girl and try to calm her down “Let’s go inside, i’ll make you some tea sweetie and you two will explain me what happened” she said looking at the boys.

So, once inside, the boys explained what Y/n was going through and how she was being tortured and forced to marry Malfoy. Euphemia, was disgusted with Y/n’s parents, she had heard of their reputations before but this was cruel. During the whole explanation Y/n was quiet, riding out of her shock, they guessed, until she spoke and everyone went silent “I need to to my house” she said so low it was almost inaudible, they were sure they had heard it wrong but then she said it louder this time “I need to go home before things get worse” the room went silent.

“You’re not going back there Y/n” Sirius was the first to talk, desperation in his voice.

“They’ll kill me if I don’t go back” 

“There, One more reason, it’s not safe” James added, but she insisted.

Sirius stopped, looking at her “Ok then, I’m going with you, after I pay mommy dear a visit. Can you wait only until that? i’ll be as quick as possible” 

“Yeah Y/n wait a little and calm down, you can stay here until he comes back” James said patting her shoulder gently.

“No, I don’t want to bother your parents, I’m fine” she said shyly, earning a shrug from Mrs. Potter “-and I-i don’t know how long it’ll take until my parents find out i left the Malfoys, it’s too risky” 

“Dear, calm down, there’s no problem in you staying here, I promise, wait for Sirius, he’ll be there for you, your parents are not going to hurt you. If your plan doesn’t work then you can stay here with us, just rest for a bit” Euphemia said with a motherly smile on her face.

“But Sirius don’t you think your parents will be warned too?” Y/n tried to protest but James’ mom was already showing her to her room.

Y/n was so tired from the restless nights at the Malfoys, from the fear she constantly felt that Lucius would do something to her and from her parents, that when Euphemia offered the guest room and put her there, she drifted to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Sirius caressed her hair and laid beside for a minute to make sure she was alright after the turbulent events from the break.

While she slept he told James about his plan to marry her, He was a Black, her parents would certainly be pleased with the union if the anger from the Malfoy incident passed and his parents would never refuse to wed him with a Watson, it’d be like refusing royalty, maybe it’d be difficult to explain the latest incident but anyway it was the offer of a lifetime. “Wow, Sirius are you sure? I mean, I want to save Y/n too, but- this, are you sure? This whole marriage thing is mental” James gasped.

“Her parents won’t let her stay here, they’ll try to get her back and make her marry someone else, since we humiliated Lucius, they won’t stop, I know how these people get” Sirius stated “But if I go to my parents and convince them to ask her hand to the Watsons, since she’s not officially betrothed to anyone yet, not only they’ll be thrilled but they’ll also do anything to convince her parents. And my parents would Betroth me one day too so this is just the best option for both of us” James couldn’t argue, it was a good plan in the rough.

“So you’re getting married, that’s serious” James teased “Our dear friend Y/n/n will be future Mrs. Black” he laughed hard at Sirius’ blushed face. “Oh Merlin!” He pointed a finger to Sirius “You like her! You- fancy Y/n, Merlin” James was so excited “It all makes sense, this friends with benefits thing would never work and that’s why you’re so relaxed about marrying her, because you fancy Y/N/N, Merlin!” 

“No I don’t, shove off Prongs, you’re hallucinating, we’re friends” The blush on his face wasn’t ignored by James, who laughed harder “Now, i need to go home and convince mommy Black to talk to the Watsons” Sirius cut James off, leaving the room heading to the hell he called home.

“Whatever you say Pads” James yelled from the kitchen.

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

taglist: @msmb​ ❤️

[thespamman24]

I wish that I was a dog.

If I was a dog then I would sneak into my owners fridge and eat all of their bananas. All of them. I would keep doing it, over and over again. They would have to start keeping their bananas in secure places, but I would always find them. They could put the bananas in a locked safe and store it on the highest shelf, but somehow I would still manage to get those bananas into my big dog mouth. They would probably take me to the vet and ask the vet “Why does our dog keep on eating bananas?” but the vet would have no answer. The bananas didn’t seem to be making me ill, in fact I was more healthy than ever. Despite being a corgi, I had the strength of a rottweiler.

Eventually, they would just stop buying bananas. But that wouldn’t stop me. I would break into neighbors houses and steal their bananas. My hunger for bananas would consume my every thought, my every desire. I would grow and grow until I was twice the size of an English mastiff. Eventually, they would tie me to a stick like one of those naughty dogs but that wouldn’t stop me. I would still manage to break free, and then in a mad rage I would destroy the entirety of my owners furniture. 

My owners would have no choice but to take me to a pound. “It’s such a shame.” they would say “He used to be such a good boy, but then he just got really into bananas for some reason.” But no pound could be able to hold me. I would escape, and run all of the way back to my owners house. I would smash right through my owners door. My owners would scream as I snarled and raged and dashed across their house. Then I would plant myself in the middle of the living room and snarl. 

What could they do? They would rush off to the grocery store and grab as many bananas as they could. But that wouldn’t even be enough to satisfy me. They would have to start getting bananas in from the truckload. Spending thousands of dollars shipping in hundreds of bananas in, just to feed my appetite. I would get bigger and bigger, till I was 5 feet tall. “Surely, he’ll get sick of them. “ they’d say “either that, or he’ll die.” But I wouldn’t die, I would just consume and consume. Eventually, my owners money would start running dry. They would have to move out as my appetite grew. But I wouldn’t mind, all I wanted was bananas. Eventually, they couldn’t afford a home at all and they had to move to a large junkyard where they slept by snuggling me for warmth. It was in this junkyard that I would spend the entirety of my days, consuming more and more bananas. I would grow and grow till I was 8 feet tall. Then 10 feet. Then 20 feet.

Eventually, my owners would run out of money. “Please,” they would say “please buttons” (buttons would be my name of course) “We can’t get you any more bananas, don’t you think you’ve had enough?” but that would not sway me, and in a fit of rage I would swallow my owners whole. Then, I would make my way South, stopping at grocery stores to get my fill of bananas. I would sleep seldomly, with my only stops being to consume more bananas. I would run and run till I arrived in Costa Rica. 

Oh, what a sight that would be. A group of poor Costa Rican banana farmers toiling away, when suddenly from the horizon appears a 25 foot tall Corgi. “?Que Carajo?!” They would say “!El Perro Es Gigantesco!”

Then I would snarl and they would run away in fright and I would gourge myself on the bananas. I would gorge myself on all of the bananas that Costa Rica had to offer till I was 40 foot tall. I would indulge myself ina  feat of bananas never seen before and then eventually the government would hear of this and they would be enraged! They would send helicopters to shoot me down but I would bat them out of the sky. They would tanks and planes and all sorts of weapons of war but I would squanch them without hesitation. 

Eventually, the american banana companies would get worried, because their sales were dropping, so they would lobby for something to happen. They would obviously be successful, and then for the first time in history the united states government would declare war on a single dog. They would send the finest weapons that the world had to offer, all sorts of fighter jets and helicopters. They would send wave after wave after squandron of men and machines armed to the teeth. They would launch missiles and drop bombs and rain down everything they could on me save for a nuclear bomb. They would throw all of their military might at me, but they would fail. 

 At this point I would have become almost a hundred feet tall. I would tower over buildings and skyscrapers. People all over the world would begin to worship me as a god. The banana workers of Costa Rica who had slaved for so long began to see me as a savior, someone who had come down to rid themself of the oppressive yoke of the banana industry. But, I would be no savior, I would just be one big corgi that wanted bananas.

I would gorge myself on all of the bananas that Costa Rica had to offer, until there was no more. Then, I would move to Nicaragua, then to Honduras, then to Belize,then back to Nicaragua, then to El Salvador, then back to Costa Rica, then to Panama. I would scour my way through all of Latin America, devouring every bananas I saw till I was 150 feet tall and growing.

Eventually, the U.S. government would have no other option then to build a giant robotic mecha corgi.

This mecha corgi would be deployed, with some sort of trained pilot inside and me and this mecha would have the fight of the century- possible even the decade. We would pounce and fight and tear at each others throats- and then- we would lock eyes and something would take over me. Something that I hadn’t felt in a long time. My owners had previously neutered me but all of my banana eating had them grow back. Next you knew, the mecha would become pregnant with my son- a half corgi- half mecha corgi. A cycorg, if you will. 

But, I would not be around to see his birth, because I left my mecha girlfriend. I loved her, but I loved bananas more and so I left. I journeyed to Colombia and Venezuela and all throughout South America, always on the hunt for bananas, no amount of that sweet yellow fruit could ever quinch my eternal hunger.

The U.S. government would send more mechs after me, and I had some close encounters but, whenever things got to bad I would run. Eventually, things got so serious that I had to dog paddle my way to Africa. Thankfully, I managed to end up in Cote D’Iviore which was a country that the U.S. didn’t have any treaty or whatever with. I was safe. I gouged myself on bananas for many years sometimes I would think about that one true love I had, but my bananas kept me destracted. I didn’t even know that I had a son, or that he was growing up in a  secure facility in Nevada.

I grew and grew. At first, the government tried to stop me, but then they stopped. Eventually, they started to like me, they would bring me bananas and in return I increased tourism by 2,000%. In fact, I actually helped the economy of Cote D’Iviore. This allowed for many schools and hospitals to be buildt, massive reforms were passed in the government, infrastructure improved massively. Eventually, Cote D’Iviore became one of the most successful countries in the world and all it took was one giant dog. 

People would come from all over the world to see me, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was bananas. When I wasn’t eating bananas I was sleeping or killing people who were trying to kill me. Sometimes I would eat them, but people didn’t taste as good as bananas.

Cote D’Iviore started to run out of bananas so they had to ask Ghana and Cameroon for help in exchange for economy. This eventually lead to all three countries becoming one country, and this country became a prosperous nation. I quickly became the national animal of this nation. I was on the state flag and all of the coinage. Massive statues were buildt of me and the countries name was Terre De Chien Geant (land of the big dog). I payed no notion to this. After all, I was a dog and I didn’t even understand politics. All I understand was bananas. And now, the country was working very hard to get me as much bananas as I could eat because the tourism money was huge. I feasted on bananas until I became 400 feet tall. 

However, across the sea storm clouds were brewing. The United States government had no interest in killing me anymore. However, my Cycorg son was a rarity and of great interest to them. They figured that they could use him as a weapon to take on foreign threats. They got people to pilot him. I don’t know how it worked but the Cycorg needed a pilot.

Many years passed. Eventually, I grew till I was almost a thousand feet tall. My Cycorg son did the same. 

What happens next? Find out next time on my deranged ramblings!

[trifle-of-doom]

The Hawk X Demetri Manifesto

Okay, here is the thing. Despite being well past my teens, there's a particular ship of Cobra Kai that has drawn my attention, this ship being Hawk/Eli x Demetri. When I first watched the show, I was actually more invested in the adult characters storylines than the teens. I immediately rooted for Johnny and Carmen, and I was always hoping for more interactions between them. But then I saw episode 2x05, in which the atmosphere between the Binary Brothers becomes way more dense, and that's when I started to see some potential for them. Not because I'm a deranged person who fosters abusive relationships, but because I immediately caught the hurt/comfort dynamic of the duo, which is something that works really well when it comes to fictional relationships. However, it wasn't until 3x10 that I said, "Ok, that's official, I need to see more of these two! I totally support them!" And I was quite surprised to find a fairly large amount of people who are very committed to this pairing, to the point it's caught the attention of the screenwriters/producers as well. Honestly, I don't know if the showrunners will ever have the guts to make them an official couple, and chances are their supporters will have to keep reading between the lines of their bromance, but in any case, here is my take on why Hawk/Eli x Demetri is an option worth to be considered.

#1 - The Bromance

If there's something that many years of navigating the Internet taught me, is that the main driving factor for fan-made ships is the presence of either a solid relationship based on mutual brotherly love or a bitter rivalry that may or may not flow into hate/obsession. If you consider anime fandoms, there are thousand examples that fit into either of these categories: Yugi and Jonouchi from the Yu-Gi-Oh series (yes, that's how old I am), Yugi and Kaiba from Yu-Gi-Oh, Sakuragi and Rukawa from Slam Dunk, Light and L from Death Note, etc. And our Hawk and Demetri fit into both categories. When we first see them, they are the stereotypical nerdy friends (possibly childhood friends?) sitting at the losers' table, who have no one else but each other. When Eli is at his most sensitive and fragile, you can tell he feels comfortable being with Demetri by the genuine smile he has on his face as Demetri is joking with Miguel at the canteen table. Through his sarcasm, the mouthy kid acts as a catalyst to deviate the attention from Eli, speaking for him, reprimanding Johnny when he makes fun of his lip and trying to make him feel safe. Besides, you can see a certain degree of frustration in Demetri when Kyler and his gang are harassing Eli, and he's unable to do anything to defend him. And they even have a jingle for their friendship with a robot dance, I mean, how cute is that? But of course, a solid friendship between two helpless nerdy guys is not enough to spark a ship to be rooting for. In order for the magic to happen, another key ingredient is needed, i.e. a little bit of angst. Which brings us straight to the next point.

#2 - The Angst (aka the Hurt/Comfort Dynamic)

Even though I never liked the Twilight saga or any similar urban fantasy young adult works, I can easily see where the appeal comes from; the attraction to a charming, dangerous person who could either protect you from any harm or crush you like grape. Although with different franchises, I wasn't immune to the bad boy trope either (Yes, I'm looking at you, my teenage self drooling over Grimmjow from Bleach). If we can appreciate the genuine, brotherly friendship between nerdy Eli and Demetri, the shift that Eli makes as he transitions into Hawk and becomes more aggressive and dominant gives their relationship a totally different flavor. Attrition sparks a certain tension that, in the viewer's eyes, could either flow into a brawl or into passion.

During the mall fight, Demetri comes to the realization that his former best friend is actually someone who can crush him like grape. We see Hawk intentionally harming him for the first time, and Demetri's heartbreaking expression as he drops the line: "You'd actually hurt me?" And if that line gave us a pang in our hearts when we first watched Season 2, imagine rewatching it now that we know what happens in Season 3. Demetri is chased down the mall, running for his life, and then he's locked in a grip, as his best friend menacingly advances towards him. Demetri appears as the damsel in distress, however his friend is not the one who will fight to protect him, but rather his tormentor.

During the party at Moon's, Demetri manages to briefly go through Hawk's mask and reach out to Eli, thanks to a casual conversation about Dr Who. But then the beer incident happens, and Demetri defends himself with the only weapon he has – his loudmouth. The situation is reversed, and for a brief moment, he gets to be the dominant one as he discloses all Eli's most intimate secrets. Demetri is now actively contributing to the Hurt/Comfort dynamic; he's no longer just a target, but he's doing his part to enlarge that gaping hole that has formed between them. And Hawk didn't take it well.

From this moment on, Demetri becomes a sort of obsession to Hawk, who hunts him down the school, teasing him and taunting him sadistically, like a serial killer from a horror movie, during the big fight. Of course, in real life, this would be completely insane, and the police/a social assistant/psychiatrist should be called, but in ShipLand, these situations are pure gold. Okay, we get it, Hawk wants to get revenge for the humiliation at the party, and he wants to crush that nerd part of himself he sees in Demetri, but he does it with such an intensity that it borders on ridiculous. It's like this is his twisted way to acknowledge Demetri's presence. Eventually, Hawk ends up smashed into the trophy case, and I confess I felt a little disappointed when Demetri broke that hug to give Hawk a roundhouse kick. I mean, it was a great comeback, but I was sincerely hoping for a "No hard feelings man, let's get outta here!" scenario.

Getting back to the sick and twisted way Hawk acknowledges Demetri's presence, he destroys his science project after he got jealous due to him being confident in his nerd self and laughing around with his ex girlfriend (whom the writers insist he still has a crush on). Speaking of Moon, I have a feeling she likes Hawk mostly based on his badass appearance. Remember when she goes "I like this (mohawk) and I love these (muscles), but I'm not dating a bully"?

Then the football match happens. Okay, let's break this down. Demetri trips Hawk and acts all sassy, and a fellow Cobra Kai is immediately ready to take him down, but Hawk stops him. "Fight smart, he says". Too bad that literally 5 seconds earlier he had shoved a kid to the ground just because his ex girlfriend (again, duuuh~) ignored him when he winked at her. And then, as he's trying to intercept the ball, BANG, Hawk hits Demetri, sending him to the ground, pretending it was an accident. So, what does this tell us? That Hawk has some serious anger management issues? Yeah sure, but also that he cares about fighting smart only as long as it serves as an excuse to leave Demetri for him, because he's his designated target. Again, this is all but romantic, and it doesn't necessarily have to be interpreted as him lusting after his friend, but it's undeniable that this dynamic offers a lot of ship fuel.

The arm breaking thing is just too painful to even analyze. We see a completely helpless Demetri begging for mercy to his ex best friend, who has made No Mercy his life motto. And that scream, oh that scream. All I wanted to see was Hawk realizing what he had done and throwing himself on his knees while begging for forgiveness. But I'm glad that at least we get to see he feels awful for what he's done, and I like to think that, as he got home, Eli cried out all the tears he had in his body thinking about poor Demetri at the hospital, with a swollen broken arm, all because of him. Of all the situations, this is undoubtedly the most deranged and extreme, and if something like this happened in real life, the wrongdoer would deserve to be punished and would definitely need to be sent to therapy. But in ShipLand, this opens the road to many, many different scenarios, in which the bully understands his mistakes and shifts back to the good side, or the two share a tender moment after they reconcile, or the traumatized character has to to learn to trust the other one again, or the bully becomes overprotective of his former victim, etc.

#3 - A Rewarding Reconciliation

Finally, we come to the reconciliation, in which Hawk makes his heel-to-face turn. While we've seen him torn with doubt for an entire season about his sensei's teachings, his actions and the people he wants to surround himself with, the key factor that drives Hawk's redemption is the sight of his best friend being held down for him to beat. And with an epic stunt and his awesome KEEEH screech, Hawk jumps to the rescue of his friend. Like many of us, Demetri thought this was still part of the "Only I Can Torment Him" dynamic I discussed earlier, as he steps backwards a little concerned, but then he understands that action was actually meant to save him, and the two begin to fight side by side, in sync, watching each other's back. You can see Demetri's eyes sparkling at the thought of having his friend back.

Also, not only Demetri stands up to alpha bitch Tory in defense of Eli, but he also speaks for his friend when he's faltering, just like he used to. So kudos for Demetri.

#4 - The Red Oni, Blue Oni Dynamic

Binary Brothers are two sides of the same coin and complete each other with opposite character traits, visually expressed by the color red and the color blue. Being the color red typically associated with violence, rage, passion and irrationality, as opposed to blue, which is associated with calmness, melancholy and rationality, red is clearly the dominant color. Again, this opens many interesting scenarios for shippers.

#5 - Body Language

Besides the situations I described above, which may or may not be read from a romantic/attraction standpoint, there are also a collection of small gestures I noticed when rewatching the series with a more attentive look on their relationship.

- Demetri's heart-broken expression when Eli shamefully covers his lip during the anti-bullying announcement.

- The smile Demetri gives when Hawk responds "Hell yeah!" after Aisha proposes to crash Yasmin's party, implying he's learning to embrace this new wild side of his best friend

- The astonished look with which Demetri watches Hawk at the tournament and the way he's pissed no one knows his real name.

- How deeply hurt Demetri is when Hawk belittles him by saying: "Five against three. More like two and a half." He even tries to reply, but he's caught so off guard that words die in his throat.

- How Demetri takes a step towards Hawk during the mall fight, before Sam makes him back off, and how sadly he looks at Hawk's nearly unconscious body after Robby defeated him.

- How Demetri smiles and nods when he briefly connects with Eli at Moon's party, despite the mall incident.

- How Hawk watches Demetri juggle with the cleaning product from behind his bike helmet (how did he stuff the mohawk in there by the way)?

- Hawk's psychotic/sadistic faces when he smells Demetri's blood, and how he likes to hunt him down like he's his prey.

- Hawk's secret impulse to comfort Demetri after the arm breaking (I hope you get nightmares of Demetri's howl of pain for the rest of your life, Hawk).

- The way Hawk twitches his upper lip when he sees his friend Demetri in danger.

- How Hawk and Demetri are so absorbed in their new-found friendship, that they're caught off guard, and Demetri swings Hawk to allow him to deliver a kick using their handshake as a lever. And how they keep fighting together, shaking each other's hands even when they're out of focus and the attention is on Miguel vs. Kyler.

- How they're standing so close at Miyagi Do, in comparison with the other Red/Blue partners.

In conclusion, this kind of relationships are engaging and entertaining to watch, and they make us wish the best for the characters. They make us hope that, in the end, as Miguel puts it, love really conquers all (and what is friendship if not a form of love?), despite all the hurt they did to each other.

So this is it. I hope you enjoyed my Ted Talk. Feel free to share it with whomever you want, especially if you need some solid reasons why this ship has got some good potential.

And remember: the ship is in the eye of the beholder.

F.

[btssunnyboy]

— Guardian - YandereGuardian Angel! Jungkook

His mission on earth was to protect you in the purest way, but how did mere protection turn in dangerous obsession?

Word Count 3.7k

Warning - Yandere! Themes, Murder, attempted murder, and all around possessiveness, and obsession. ALSO I WANT TO DO A YANDERE SERIES WITH ALL THE BOYS, LIKE JUNGKOOK IS A GUARDIAN ANGEL WHAT SHOULD THE OTHER BOYS BE?

BTS - NCT - ATEEZ - Requests open for all groups!

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The guardian angel had one very specific job when he came down to earth. Simply protect his human from harm, but in the most humane way possible. That means no extreme measures should be took, the main priority should be to get the human out of the situation, without harm coming to anyone involved. He followed that rule throughly, well to be more clear, he followed it throughly when he was first starting out. Making sure the precious mortal was fine after a scrap was skidded across their knees to a small mishap in the kitchen that lead to a burnt palm. Everything he done was innocent, no ill intentions were behind any of his doings. In fact when he was first starting out he made sure things were handled in a graceful way. After all that was the main rule he had to follow.

He’d be the little angel on your shoulder that was whispering how the situation should be handled. The thought of violence occurring, around him truly terrified him to the core. Being one of the younger angels, he hasn’t had time to properly live out his immortal life. All he’s ever seen is peaceful, and happy people up in the heaven above, violence was a whole new ball park for him. So he made sure that it was avoided at all cost. This strategy was effective for the most part, but he used this when he first got to earth. When he didn’t know you as well as he does now. And not knowing you well enough played a much bigger role in his personality then you thought.

When he first started watching over you, distance was a big thing he cared about. Making sure he’s not your second shadow, making sure he’s not clinging onto you after every step. He didn’t want to be suffocating like some of the other angels he’s seen, because he’s seen their humans completely turn against them for that reason. But he didn’t want that to happen to you, he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the reason within him, but the thought of you turning against him made him ill. It made his stomach fill with dread, it made his palms grow sweaty every second, it made his mind race with other possibilities of you getting hurt or worse on his watch. For the sake of keeping you on his side he kept his distance, for as long as he deemed necessary.

But as time went on, many things around you started to change. Your college professors were piling work load upon work load onto you every night, the same retail job you were working at is almost close to bankruptcy, and you’re not getting a lot of sleep. Put all of those things together and you get a person who is stressed and not all there. This was the first time he felt his platonic feelings morph into something else. Something more along the lines of protection, and worry, but with a sinister twist added into the mix. But like the responsible angel he is, he kept those feelings inside. Letting the bottle up for as long as he could.

As you know keeping things bottled inside is never the right way to go. Letting all of these feelings mush and mold into one another to the point that you’re filled up with extreme amounts of anger and insecurities it takes things to a whole other level. The final straw for him was seeing you walk through the door with puffy eyes,soaked clothes, and your hair matted to your forehead. He could feel the feathers on his wings tense up, and his hands immediately clutched themselves into tight fists. Without missing a beat he made himself noticeable, and wrapped his arms around your waist, and his wings soon followed suit as they tucked themselves around your shaking body.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into staying at the house today. Are you hurt, do you need me to heal anything? Do you wanna tell me who did this?” He mumbled frantically into your hair, as he guided you to the bedroom. If he didn’t get you out of these wet and dirty clothes and into a warm shower soon, you’d probably catch a cold. And he wasn’t going to have his baby sick, not when he can prevent it.

“It was just a bad day a work, besides...” You stopped a little ways into your sentence to wiped the muddy hair from your forehead. The scene replaying itself on a loop inside of your head, and you hated it. It made a feeling of helpless coat your body like a wet blanket, and it was starting to become suffocating in a terrible way. Their faces were etched into your brain as they purposely served right into the puddle beside of you. They were familiar, but those girls were honestly just the typically drunk, mean girls looking for a cheap laugh and you despised them for it.

“Besides what, Y/n?” Jungkook sternly spoke as he raised an eyebrow at you. Why were you stopping in the middle of sentence when there was clearly a problem at hand, most importantly why were you trying to keep secrets from the one that is destined to protect you? He didn’t move from his stance as his gaze bored into the side of your head. All he wanted was answers, and he was going to get them one way or another. Violence may have been a taboo thing to him earlier on in his training, but now he doesn’t have a problem with creating chaos around those who dare harm you. “I’m not gonna give this up, y/n, and you know that. You can either tell me what I want to know or I’ll tap into your memories myself.”

The feeling of helplessness long gone, as you clicked your tongue in an annoyed manner. Trying not to pay him any mind, you scampered around the room trying to find suitable clothes for the night. What kind of entitled prick does he think he is, trying to scare you by saying he’ll tap into your memories himself. It was a mistake that a few drunk girls made, but even so, you still worried about what he might do to them. A small puddle of water never killed anybody, besides the pure angel you once knew has changed his way of dealing with things, and you didn’t like it. Letting him tap into any memories would result is mass hysteria.

He stared it utter disbelief, you were never disobedient when he asked things like that. You never scoffed or turned your head in any matter, and the small action seemed to anger him even more then your current state. After everything that’s happened today, from your crying fit to being covered in muddy water, and you still won’t let him help. Why were protecting people who caused you harm, unless you held a much deeper relationship with them. But you’d tell him if you were, you always told him if someone new in comes into your life, but he never tells you how he makes sure their life becomes a living hell the moment he sees them. No matter how deranged and psychotic it sounded, he needed you to say yes to letting him float through your memories! After all he’s just doing this to protect you, but who do you really need protection from. Everyone else or do you need protection from him?

You had to get away from the crazed look in his eyes, it was driving you insane. He, himself, was driving you insane, and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it. No one deserved to have their life controlled by someone who other people can’t see, it makes you look like a crazy person when you’re talking to yourself in the middle of class. The steaming water was a distraction for the harsh, coldness that was starting to exude from Jungkook. It was disturbing to say the least, and you just needed five mere minutes away from that chaos that was supposed to be your pure guardian angel.

“I’m truly sorry, y/n, I really am.” No he wasn’t, but you didn’t need to know that. He just needed you to think that he was sorry for his outburst, that he was sorry about being so overprotective. Because he needed you to let all of your guard down, that way tapping into those pesky memories would be an even easier job. His ear was pressed against the bathroom silently praying he’d hear the lock make it signature click, and you’d walk out with a sad smile plastered to your face. But when he didn’t hear that click, or the soft patter of your feet hitting the wooden floor he knew this was going to take a lot more work. “I’ll leave you be.”

He knew that his original plan was down to the drain, so now all he as to do is wait till you’re sound asleep. Because whoever made your day bad, will pay. He’ll make them burn like the raging fires in hell for what they did, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Thinking about how amazing their mangled bodies would look like strung up in horrific accidents. But most importantly he couldn’t stop thinking about how happy and appreciative you’d be, once you found out what he had done for you! All your praises and glory would be bestowed upon him, and he couldn’t wait. If he wanted any of his dreams to come true he had to wait till you were finally sleeping peacefully.

“Just please leave me alone for tonight, and don’t you dare tap into my memories.” You warned as you shoved past him. Making a b - line for soft comforter that sat messily on your bed, and tucking yourself in. Jungkook watched with admiration written in his eyes, as he marveled at how you could make a simple task look so delicate and beautiful. But you were someone he’s grown to love, through his eyes everything you did was simply elegant and lovely. He had to make sure you stayed that way, and if getting rid of these people would preserve that then he’d do anything.

He watched and waited for hours until he knew for a fact that you were in a deep sleep. Taking two fingers he pressed them to your temple, as he felt your memories connect with his. All the pain you had felt throughout the day overtaking his body in quick, repeated pulses. They attacked every nerve that was available, they flooded his mind like a tsunami, taking his entire body hostage. At first all he felt was the pain, and sadness you had gone through, but the picture was starting to become much clearer. From the rude customers at the drive through, to the supposedly drunk girls that rain into a puddle and drenched you from head to toe. But he could tell from their evil eyes that they meant to swerve into that puddle. Simply by doing that he now knows that this means war.

When he finally saw them, he knew their punishment couldn’t be gentle. It couldn’t be over within the snap of a finger, he needed the pain to linger in their bones so they get the full experience. He wants them to feel the same amount of pain you felt, but he wants it amplified by one - hundred percent. Because at the end of the day they deserved this! If they wanted to deal our immense pain, then surely they’re strong enough to handle it when it’s forced back on them, right? But judging by the way the girl was clutching and clawing at her throat in agony, and gasping to get an ounce of fresh air in her lungs, in this case she couldn’t handle the pain. And he was soaking in the glory as he watched her fumbled around on the floor, dragging her nails into the carpet in an attempt to get to her phone, that was merely a few inches away.

Jungkook released the mental hold on her, and then proceeded to step lightly on her hand, making sure that only a small percentage of weight was being put on. First, it was the back of his heel, and soon the tip of his foot was touching the tips of her fingers. At this moment he wanted to hear her scream for mercy so loudly that her throat bled, like it was being cut by shards of class, but sadly he couldn’t have that. The more people that witness this mass hysteria, the more people he’ll have to get rid of. And you may not forgive him if he hurts people that weren’t involved in the original problem. While resting his body on her weak hand, he kneeled down to make eye contact, he wanted her to see the face of her killer.

“Why are you...” The poor girl couldn’t hold eye contact, as her head was growing too heavy for her neck to support. Soon, all of the pain was starting to take over her whole body. She felt herself slipping away into unconsciousness. But the angel was still feeling playful, and he was going to keep playing with his prey until he was completely satisfied with his revenge.

“You really wanna know why I’m doing this? Because you hurt her, you hurt someone who I care deeply about. Now they’re too nice to want revenge on a pathetic mortal like yourself, but I don’t give two shits who you are. Because at the end of the day no one hurts the one I love.” He didn’t notice,but she sure did. She notice how his once clear eyes were fading into a black hole of nothing less. His halo floating above his head, was starting to tilt, as if it was close to the brim of falling off. And everyone knows once an angel looses it halo, horns start to grow in its place.

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For the next couple of weeks, he was giddy. His giggle was toned up an octave higher, his touch was lingering a bit longer then usual, and to no one’s surprise he started showing more of signs of obsession. You on the other hand, were complete different. Your feelings were on opposite sides of the spectrum, fear soared through every inch in your body, you plastered the biggest smile on your face, praying that he would buy it. All of seemed fabricated, because you truly didn’t want to believe that he had killed her. A funny joke to someone, costed them their life. Now you were scared to even glance at someone for too long, thinking that a Jungkook might see them as threat.

“Hey, Y/n, are you feeling alright?” Jisung tilted his head, as he started to rub comforting circles on your back. The small action taking you out of your trance like state, and putting you back into reality. A place you’d much rather be without. His eyebrow was raised in suspicion when you noticed your gaze stayed connected to his shoes. To lighten the mood, he jokingly asked, “Come on I know they’re dirty, but do you really have to stare?”

You eyes averted back up to his within a second, guilt coating your face. The thought of accidentally offending him, make you heart clench in guilt. He was the one person who surprisingly stayed, throughout all the controversy that was starting to bubble up around you. “Han! I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just having an off day.”

His arm glided over your shoulders, it felt so nice and natural. It felt safe, and this wasn’t something you felt a whole lot. And you wanted to cherish every moment of it, but a nagging voice in head was scolding you. Forcing you to think about the obsessive angel that was watching your every move. You subtly tried to pull your body away from Jisung, but you didn’t want to be disrespectful. You needed to catch the bus back to your apartment in a decent time.

“Hey, before you go I was wondering, do you wanna grab a bite to eat? I’ll pay.” Jisung smile brightly, as his cheeks puffed out ever so slightly. The small action making you grin, you always loved his full cheeks. Even thought he complains about them half the time, you think they make him cuter. He noticed you hesitation, and immediately started to cower away. “I just realized, you probably don’t like me like that. So I’ll be on my way.”

You body reacted before your mind could even process what was exactly happening. A small tug delivered to his left hand, made his entire body holt. A hopeful smile taking over his cheeks, as you laced you fingers with his. You really should have listened to the angel on your shoulder, but you liked Jisung. That’s why the next words that came out of your mouth gave him hope. “A quick bit never hurt anyone. So, where should we go?”

It physically felt like a spark of joy shot through his eyes at your statement. The coolness of the rings, on his hand, when they collided with yours felt serene. You’ve been surrounded by smothering hot, hatred and obsessiveness for too long. And this was finally the break you needed, this was finally the break you deserved. When his fingered laced with yours, you truly felt at home.

“There’s this quiet little diner, on WellRose drive. It’s maybe a ten minute walk. Is that okay?” Jisung asked with a soft tone. Stroking the back of your hand with his thumb, as he gently swayed your arm.

“It’s perfect.” You smiled as you felt yourself grip his hand a little tighter. Almost as if to make sure this wasn’t a dream, to make sure this wasn’t an illusion Jungkook had made to test your loyalty. As if right now you could truly breath for a second, and not worry about the guardian angel.

While you were were out living the best life you can live, as well as living it up with another boy, Jungkook was a mess. His breath was becoming ragged, his palms were growing sweaty, his heart was pounding so hard in his chest, he was afraid his entire chest would burst wide open. The clock said a quarter past four, and usually you’re home at exactly four o’clock. Questions were racing through his mind, did someone hurt you, did the bus crash, did you forget about him? He should his head rapidly, disappointment filling his body at the thought of that, of course you didn’t forget about him, you love him! Thinking quickly on his feet he raced towards your bedroom, he can make the angel and mortal bond stronger by having a personal item. A small chain necklace, with a beautiful red butterfly pendent was definitely a personal item.

He clutched that pendent like his life depended on, and right now it does. Without you he has no one to protect, without you he has no one to love, without he has no purpose! Finding you now is his main mission, and he needs to be successful. A quick vision flashed through his eyes of you sitting quietly in a diner booth, hands delicately holding up a tattered menu. He felt his heart slow down, you simply getting something to eat and he absolutely couldn’t be mad at you over that. But as the vision went on, he noticed the brown haired boy sitting across from you. And he knew he could raise hell over that. Within a minute he had teleported from your bedroom to the back door of the small diner.

He could see in through the windows, and noticed just how cozy the two do you were getting. The small hand touches across the table, to the lingering gazed this stupid boy was giving you. All of it was making his blood boil, and his vision was going straight to red. A quick shuffle made him force his wings to tuck themselves together, making it appear as if he had none. All of the scenarios in his heads were brutal and graphic, as he pictured multiple ways that this boy could suffer. And as a cruel joke, or punishment, he was going to make you watch every single second of it. But for now he needed to wait to make his move. Right as the boy was excusing himself, he quickly dashed towards the front door, and he was almost hurt when you didn’t glance up to see who it was.

Your eyes stayed glued to the menu, as you softly spoke about you day. The sound of your voice was like heaven in his ears, he could listen to you talking all day. But right now he needed you home. He took your hand, and found amusement in your terrified expression as you tried to jerk your hand away as well. “Now listen my love, I don’t want to sound rushed, but we don’t have a lot of time. You have two options, leave with me now and no one will get hurt, and I’ll dismiss this whole acting out thing, this time. But if you choose to stay I’ll reek absolute havoc on this diner, and your precious little boyfriend.”

“Jungkook! This is outrageous! You’re a guardian angel, you’re supposed to provide peace, not threaten people with danger.” You sputtered frantically, and your eyes darted towards the bathroom.

“Doesn’t matter, Tic,Tok my love, your window of time is getting quite small. And I just want you to keep in mind I was brutal with that girl, imagine how brutal I’ll be with someone who’s trying to take you away.”

The freeing, coolness you felt with Jisung is now gone for good, and is replaced with the familiar smothering, and sweltering heat of Jungkook’s obsession. You gripped his heavy hand across the table, and forcibly pulled his body out of the booth.

“I knew my baby loved me more! But keep in mind I still have to get rid of the competition.”

[wornoutmouse]

Not sure if this even counts as pain play

Day 7: Pain Play

I got weirdly poetic with this but I guess it works.

My first dark fic! I'll admit I love reading the fucked up stuff with a passion. Also, I'm trying to wrack my brain for the different animes I've watched so it's all not just mha or other common ones since I've been a victim of not having fanfiction of an anime I liked.

Warnings: dubious consent, yandere, blood

Your legs trembled with every drag on the blade fearing yet craving that one of these times it would break skin. "Why are...you trembling?" You close your eyes tightly not wanting to look at your boyfriend. He made no attempt at forcing you to either. "I know it...will hurt a little...but...it will...feel good too." You hear the clinking of more small surgery blades and you can't help but wonder if you were the only person down here. You could hear dripping water in the distance and the echo it created lasted for minutes before stopping. If you were to be left down here, you weren't sure if you'd make it out. "Azusa, please!" you begged. For what you did not know as you were conflicted trying to gauge any form of sympathy from the deranged vampire. "What...are you begging for? I'm trying.. to help." The boy looked at you, gaze blank and eyes as dull as the steel he was holding as he walked towards you with a small scalpel in hand.

"I won't...make it deep...since this is...your first time." you try to lean away from the weapon but Azusa takes a gentle hand to hold you still. As you look into his eyes and see only love and adoration staring back at you and you couldn't help but feel conflicted about whether he was the one to be angry at. You yourself brought up how empty you had been feeling as of late and you should have realized your mistake from talking to the least mentally stable person in this household. "Azusa I know you want to make me feel better now but, I'm fine, truly." He looks at you pondering if your words are really true. Once he assumes so he undoes your binds and lets you down. "I'm...sorry for..tying you...up. I knew.. you'd be nervous...and I didn't...want to hurt you." he says scratching behind his ear nervously. You take a steady step back careful to not seem to on edge. 

"I...hope I..didn't...scare..you." you shook your head grimacing at how your curls stuck to your forehead from the amount of sweat you had worked up for such a short time. "n-No, it was fine." you stutter out before turning around, "Now let's just get out of here and forget all of this." A cold hand grabs your arm and you stiffen, "I'm sorry...but...can we stay here...for a while?" you look over your shoulder and cringe as you see the tinge of red in your boyfriends face. "Azusa..are you turned of right now?" you couldn't help but gag slightly at the thought. 

The sick individual in question squeaks and covers his lower area with his hands in embarrassment. "I'm...sorry..but seeing you ...all help..less, riled...me up." Azusa steps forward making you take a step back. "The fact that...you...trusted me....to be gentle...makes..me feel good." Your hands tremble as you resist the urge to shove the boy and make a run for it. As easy as it would be to push down the frail boy, he was still stronger than you by a margin. That and the fact you didn't want to face his brothers, was the only thing keeping you standing there. "Well we can't do anything about it in here, can we?" you ask in fake playfulness trying to deflect the conversation to something lighter. Azusa shook his head in thought before teleporting you both into the familiar gloom of his bedroom. 

Your head spins as you get accustomed to the abrupt change in scenery and you are helpless to the hesitant kisses being left on your skin. Only when you feel fangs puncture your shoulder is when you come back to reality. "Azusa!" you whine as he pulls you closer by your waist, "I...couldn't help..it. You..look so beautiful." the sweetness of his voice made you sick to your stomach as you thought of what a decent person he could have been if not for his childhood. You try to push him off of you in a weak attempt at gaining the upper hand but in the end, you stopped knowing that there was no point for your body had made up its mind.

The feeling of his cold undead hands trailing down your stomach and making contact with the skin just above your belt made you question what little sanity you held dear. You could feel the aphrodisiac seeping into your veins and you curse yourself for allowing things to get this far. Azusa pulls away licking his lips and smearing blood along his chin, "I tried not...to drink....long...because I know...it makes...you woozy." Azusa uses his nail to pop your pant buttons open.  With precision and care, he slips his long fingers inside to play with your folds. The utter contrast between both of your bodies should have been a turn off from the start. But as you two grew closer, your body began to crave it leading you into an endless cycle of wanting to leave and wanting to be devoured.

You could blame it on vampire suave and seduction but you knew better. The front door has always been open for your departure, you just chose to ignore it. 

"Azusa!" you gasp latching onto his wrists before jerking your hands away remembering his wrapped wounds. "It's...fine...see." Azusa raised his hands and unwraps the bandages surrounding them. The skin was scared and discolored going from warm peach to pale as moon water. "I'm....trying to get..better, just..like..you wanted." he says with a proud smile on his face as he stares at his hands, playing with his fingers as he awaits your approval. 

Your stomach churned from the sick joy you got from the fact that you had made a positive dent on this person's life no matter how small. Any other person wouldn't be able to handle the madness that was this boy and as much as you wanted to leave this was the reason to stay. To help this boy do better with his life which was also an excuse. You would always deny it but deep down you knew that all your devotion was really just a false sense of security ensuring that you truly hadn't fallen into self-inflicted Stockholm Syndrome. "I'm so proud of you Azusa." you whimpered trying to hold back the tears of regret as you watch the boy smile, fangs on display pearly white as ever and shinning in the bright moonlight that scratched it's way inside. Azusa went back to playing with your bud of pleasure as he lamented kisses and lies into your skin, making you slip deeper into your own self hatred as you allowed the menstruations to continue. 

You don't know how long you were in your own thoughts as you are awoken to a hot yet cold tongue lathering itself against your breasts, nipples pebbling from the sharp air that hit it after every ministration. Numb to the feeling yet still aware, you shake as your mind is thrown into ecstasy as you become aware of the blade trailing down the cavern of your breast leaving a thin river of blood following suit. "You...look..so pretty like..this." Like a moth to a flame, your breath hitches as Azusa trails his tongue along the river gathering all that your body had to offer. 

You receive many cuts after that, along your outer and inner thighs, painting your ebony skin red in pathetic irony as you wish for a moment that Azusa would slip and cut you just right so that you could slip away without blame from the gods or yourself. You feel Azusa lick away more of your essence in a way that is more intimate but more demeaning. You arch your back holding his head close to yourself as you take what he was giving you greedily. If one were to ask if you were pleasured you would respond without words but cries of agony disguised as joy. 

You flip the position to try to gain back what you felt you lost as you angle your lover's throbbing member below yourself and don't allow yourself to settle until he's pleading. "Please...I don't know...how long I will....last." he softly croons gazing up at you with a lovesick gaze that you knew you didn't deserve. You relent, telling yourself that this was on your own terms as you bounce rhythmically on his cock watching him cover his face as he babbles incoherent sentences. You sneer in disgust and hold his hands above him.

How dare he hide what was rightfully yours after taking so much from you. You feel him release inside of you and for once, you do not worry about if you fell pregnant for you knew the child would be taken care of with or without you. You do not stop your ministrations and bask at the wails your partner let out. He held your hips in a bruising grip and you knew he took joy in the pain he was receiving and for that, you could not forgive him. 

You quickly finish yourself off to relive the ache you felt from the aphrodisiac. You allow yourself to be held close to the chest of your lover and you fall asleep to the emptiness of his chest comforted by the  lacking a beating heart, lulling you into a sense of fabricated security as your heart too stilled and beat its final time declaring you, one of the damned

[miss-choco-chips]

The dangers of sugar coating

Dick tries to give his little brother nice things (and fucks up), Tim is paranoid (and too tired to think clearly), and Damian thinks they might actually be a good team (while they plot Santa Claus’ downfall).

(Beacuse @animemangasoul and I decided we’ve been too rough with Tim lately, so I tried to give him some batfamily fluff. Somewhere along the way I fucked up and ended with this. No edit, pure crack)

-----.------

-Before I tell you anything, you need to promise me you won’t get mad.

The Bruce of ten years ago, new to parenting and oblivious to its dangers, would have done his best to emulate any ‘How to be a good Dad- guide for new, utterly lost fathers’ book. Now, though, tired after raising Dick to semi-adulthood and still hurting over Jason’s… Jason, he knew better. Life had toughtened him up.

So he didn’t raise his eyes from his newspaper, and gave into the urge of sipping his coffee before humming under his breath. Not even the slightest show of acceptance over those terms.

If Dick was asking that, instead of hiding whatever this was or dealing with it himself, it meant the situation was either out of his control, bound to make its way to Bruce eventually, or both. 

Probably both.

-Come on, B, just promise you won’t get all passive aggressive bitch on me. I did it for the greater good...

Another hum.

However, Dick has spent the same amount of time learning under his guide than he had raising him, so the younger was bound to develop some of his own tactics.

-...and I did it because Tim obviously needed it, so…

Warning bells ringing in his mind, Bruce gave up and shoot Dick a look. He didn’t seem overly guilty, so whatever this was, it probably wasn’t irreversible. But he was also shifting his weight from one leg to the other nervously, so… there was a catch here.

-What did you do?

-You didn’t promise.

-I won’t take your allowance away, but I may yell. It depends on how convincingly you make your case -compromise, he had learned after many, many mistakes, was as good a plan as any. 

-Deal -then, quickly, like ripping off a bandaid:- I might have made Tim slightly more neurotic than he was. On accident.

The bells turned into firefighter’s sirens. 

-What did you do?

They have had the fifteen year old living in the mannor for a few weeks at most. They couldn't possibly have already broken him, right?

Right?

Dick winced, but sat down by Bruce’s left (the side closest to the dining room’s window), which meant this was the only issue, but a hard to explain one.

-You see… We were talking, bonding over childhood memories and stuff, and… you know how christmas is just around the corner, and I asked him about Santa. I mean, obviously he doesn’t believe in that now, but the thing is, he never did.

-He’s too smart for that -growled Bruce, impatiente to get to the point and figure out just how much damage control would he be doing.

-No, his parents were too shitty. They were never there on Christmas, so no gifts under the tree unless he put them there himself, and whenever that happened, it was because his parents sent them and he wrapped them himself. Also no surprises, because he was the one asking for specific stuff. And I got a little sad, because how can a kid never believe in Santa? Like, come on. It’s part of the concept of childhood innocence. So...

Bruce waited a few beats, but Dick didn’t follow up. See, this was the moment where his parenting books would suggest waiting until the kid was good and ready for sharing his thoughts. But, since this was his younger child at stake here, he couldn't allow himself the luxury of letting a single second go.

-And? -he prompted, as gently as he could, trying not to spook Dick into abandoning ship.

-And I sort of… convinced him that Santa was real. Like, a full out super powered meta whose purpose in life was to bring joy to all of us. I texted Barbara and she planted some old looking reports on the batcomputer about it, to give credibility to the lie. I even drew parallels with Batman being thought of as a myth outside of Gotham to support the ‘Santa is real, people just don’t believe in him’ thing. And, after some hours of convincing and with Babs’ help, he bought it. So now, if Tim approaches you about it, you better back me up, because otherwise you would be ruining the last vestige of innocence Tim might still keep. Downside, though, Tim is now holed up in his bedroom searching the deep web for any Santa related info he can get his nerdy little paws on.

Silence in the room. Dick blurted out a goodbye and jumped out of the window. Bruce didn’t get up to check if he had landed safely on the other side. He probably had. 

Tired, he looked down at his coffee. Black, just like he needed it now.

He should have stopped at zero children.

----.----

Cassie watched, with no small amount of unholy glee, as Tim thoroughly convinced both Kon and Bart of Santa’s existence. One a clone with little social understanding and the other from a very dark future, they were unsurprisingly easy to convince.

This was the kind of hilarious shit that made being in a superhero team worth it. All the life and death situations were balanced out by this kind of drama-like absurdity.

Even better was Tim’s completely fucked up perspective on the matter.

-So you’re saying Santa is not only real, but a deranged psychopath? Who’s probably both a pedofile and a mind controlling scumbag? -Kon tilted his head, both confused and esceptic.

Cassie did her utmost best to keep a straight face while nodding along, as if everything Tim had laid down in front of them made perfect sense. 

-I thought it was stupid, too. But Dick showed me evidence, old reports, both handwritten and digital, and I found footage of Santa sneaking into the Manor when he was still young, deeply buried in the Batcomputer mainframe.

-Couldn’t that video be, you know… made up? -Bart asked, frown unusual on him firmly in place.

-If it was anywhere else? Sure. But this is The Batcomputer we’re talking about. Why would Batman have that kind of thing there? It was too heavily protected to be placed there as decoy for anyone hacking, not like they could ever get over Oracle’s firewalls. Besides, what reason would Batman have to invent this? I’m fifteen, I don’t need the ‘Santa fantasy’. The only believable answer is that Santa is real and very dangerous, and some people have taken his name for capitalism’s sake and made a holiday out of that and some religious backing, to get more people roped up into it. The true mastermind is obviously hiding somewhere out there, and the Christmas propaganda is merely a means to get funding for his devious plots.

Both metas hummed thoughtfully, Superboy even crossing his arms as he examined the pile of photos and papers Tim had laid out in front of them. Bart was nodding, hand cupping his jaw. The looked dead serious.

Cassie wanted to excuse herself to use the toilet (lead lidden because this was Gotham, specifically Tim’s secret place, so of course it was super-proof) so she could laugh her ass off, but the temptation of seeing this trainwreck to its fiery end was too strong. 

It was taking up all of her amazonian training to keep her straight face, though. Diana would be so proud.

-I even searched the deep web for Santa related crimes, and looked up his name in disturbing forums. You wouldn't believe what some people, serial killers and rapists both, do using Christmas as a theme. I couldn't sort through it all, it was that sick.

Kon looked utterly disturbed- So what do we do now? Christmas is just around the corner!

Bart got up and started pacing back and forth- We need to hunt this dude down. Christmas is about goodness and family! We can’t let this, this… psychopath ruin it! Think about the children of the world!!

Oh god, this was getting even better.

-But how? The man sounds like a velocist of some kind, I mean, running and leaving gifts everywhere in the world in the span of a few hours? How are we even gonna catch him?

-Maybe if we dress up as Elves? -Cassie couldn't stop herself from suggesting, voice choked in her effort to be serious, but most likely interpreted by the boys as clogged up on rage- From what Tim wrote here -she raised a paper from the pile, hand shaking- it looks like they are his mind-controlled slaves. If he thinks we ran from his captivity, he might take us to the North Pole with him to brainwash us again… Oh, but I probably shouldn't dress up, so you know, I can be back up if he manages to catch you three…

-That’s a great idea! -Bart’s skinny arms wrapped themselves around her neck, and she took the chance to hide her face in his mane of hair, corners of her mouth twitching up.

-Should I also record it? -she asks, almost begging- In case people don’t believe us later, when we have to explain why we imprisoned Santa.

-Yes, I think that might be wise -Tim conceded, eyes scanning his papers again.

Thank the gods. That tape was going to be Cassie’s most precious treasure forever.

-I think he has a way of controlling people’s minds too. Like, parents and stuff. And then he makes them be the ones to give his children gifts in his name, as a way of gaining their trust. Sick fucker.

-So you think it’s a kinky thing for him?

-Kon, he literally categorizes kids as ‘good’ or ‘naughty’. 

-You are right, we need to stop this bastard.

Cassie loved her boys so, so much. She also owed Dick Grayson the biggest high five.

----.----

Red Hood was just lighting up a cigarette when he saw Red Robin making his way to his rooftop. Cursing, he dropped the entire thing and kicked it away. The brat knew Jason smoked, but Dick had been on his ass lately about being a good brother, and he still felt kinda bad about trying to kill the kid twice, so he was actually trying to set a good example. 

Besides, out of the two possible little brothers to take under his wing, he certainly drew the lucky ticket, because while Dickie had gotten stranded with the pompous brat, Jason had the all around good kid circling his radar more often than not. Like, Tim had broken him out of prison, a little after Jason had done his best to end his life; he couldn't get more forgiving and nice than that. It certainly beat making a murder League child let go of his katana on a nightly basis.

-I need your help.

He blinked. While they certainly had worked cases together in the past, they were always preluded by some kind of smalltalk,  little banter, at least a ‘hello’. Not this straight to the point bullshit.

He had the urge to take out his guns, to protect them both of any threat following Red Robin here. He refrained.

-What’s the matter, babybird? What’s wrong?

Tim looked almost frazzled. The cowl was hanging around his neck, just a domino preserving his identity, and his hair was a knotted mess. Disveleshed was too little a word for his state.

-We need to make a plan to catch Santa Claus before Christmas this year. His reign of terror must end. It’s still not too late.

Yeah, okay, he might need that cigarette after all, to hell with Dick’s bitching. Besides, how bad of a influence could that be, when this kid was obviously already on some kind of drugs? Like, Santa? Really?

-What… do you mean?

What followed was an hour long rant on the dangers of a super powered, evil version of the myth that Tim had somehow cooked up on his mind.

Was this real? The kid looked far too distraught for a joke.

-… Does Nightwing know about this? -whatever ‘this’ was- Bats?

Tim shook his hands frantically. Jason was legit getting worried.

-N was the one who told me about Santa -there, he knew this smelled like a Golden Boy trademark fuck up-, but he seems to be under his spell. Bruce as well. They tried to convince me he is some kind of good-hearted samaritan. Jason -he stated, breaking the no names during patrol rule, a show of just how deep into the rabbit hole he was- you wouldn't  believe what I found on the deepweb. Joker’s yearly special seems tame in comparison.

That, Jason could believe. But he was also fairly sure you could type about any word in the darkest side of the net, and find half a dozen kinky or deranged things that matched. Santa-temed crimes? More likely than anyone would believe. Real life Santa doing the deed? Not so much.

Tim had been too young when Dick lied to his face, most likely. And nowadays, the young vigilante was running on three hours of sleep on a good week. And it wasn’t even too far fetched to believe, on their line of business, specially when dealing with metas and supervillains day in and day out.

Still…

-Kid, I don’t know how to tell you this, but… Santa isn’t real -he told him, slowly, hands raised as if to touch his shoulders but not daring to actually make contact. Tim looked so manic he might actually nerve strike him.

The icy blue eyes were hidden under his mask, but Jason knew from the way he tensed that Tim was terrified.

-He got to you, too -he whispered, almost too softly for him to hear. Then, without giving Jason the chance to inquire further, he turned tail and disappeared into the night.

....

He really needed that cigarette.

----.----

When Drake told the family he was taking Damian under his wing for a case, everyone seemed so happy he couldn't just shoot the other man down. Besides, reluctant as he was to admit it, Red Robin was the superior detective in the entirety of the team, so there would be rewards for taking the blow to his pride and working with him.

He expected to be directed through some easy case, maybe a little puzzling but not too challenging. Or be sidelined while Drake worked through things, so he could learn by example.

This, though, this he hadn’t foresaw.

This case was way more serious.

-How come Father has allowed this depravancy to continue?! -exclaimed Damian, hands gripping the sheets of information tightly- This ‘Santa’s’ influence has been permitted to cement on too many people already! And it keeps growing!

-I know. Fuck, I know. But I can’t get anyone to help me. My team knows, but sadly we aren’t enough. Bruce and Dick don’t believe me, and neither does any other hero I contacted on the matter. It’s just like when B was missing in time; they either think I’m crazy, or try to sugarcoat things, like they would with a baby.

Damian snorted, disbelieving. Whatever his opinion might be on his predecessor, he at least knew to trust his insight in a case. Grandfather himself had recognized his genius on that field.

They were on Drake’s perch, his center of operations outside of Batman’s influence. He would never admit it out loud, but if Damian ever needed his own batcave, it would be just like this one. 

Now, the long table in front of him was completely covered in information, case reports, photos taken from live footage, deepweb forums’ conversations, history books…

-And you say this… monster, targets children?

-I mean, he brainwashes the parents too, but that seems like a plot to both increase his economic funds and to gain the children’s trust.

-How are you so sure they are his objective?

-The parents tell their children Santa is ‘always observing them’, and ask if they ‘have been good’ that year. If they aren’t perceived as obedient, Santa leaves them coal, which incentives them to do their best to change that by next year’s christmas. 

-Maybe the coal and gifts have mind control devices, or some magic?

-My thoughts exactly.

Damian frowns even deeper. He’s glad Drake is taking his detective training seriously, but if father himself is being deceived, he wonders what can the two of them (plus Drake’s team) do.

-What about Todd? Red Hood is proclaimed as Saint Protector of Children in Crime Alley, after all. He certainly has opinions about this ‘Santa’ person. 

Timothy shakes his head- He got Jason too. I suspect he’s been under his control ever since he was a child at the manor. 

-So, we are alone in this.

-Essentially, yes. Thankfully, not everyone celebrates christmas. Some religions flat out forbid it, so we won’t have as much ground to cover when we lay out a trap. We could choose a close by location and plan around it. 

He nods, back straight with purpose. He -and Drake, he supposes- would be freeing Father and Grayson, along with the rest of the victims, from this madman’s control. Maybe even Todd, if he has the time.

-I’m with you on this endeavor, Drake.

-Good. Remember we need to act natural in front of the family. If Santa catches wind of what we’re doing, he might focus his efforts in getting to us. 

Damian wants to say to let him come, he would show him why it's a bad idea to mess with his family. But Drake is, admittedly, the superior detective, and it seems he’s been working on this for a long time now. Damian will defer to his judgement this one time.

Drake’s superior knowledge and Damian’s unrivaled training might be what’s needed to orchestrate this ‘Santa’s’ downfall.

They will be a good team, he thinks.

[alifeincoffeespoons]

part ix of the avatar au: the red spirit

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii

Lily’s sick, and saying that James is panicked would be an understatement.

He barely knows how it happened. One day she was fine, and then they walked ten miles during a thunderstorm, and then she was sick.

Okay, it actually does make sense, if you look at it that way.

“Cute,” she giggles, poking his cheek, and James gulps. If she’s calling him cute, something is definitely wrong. “Handsome.”

Okay, yep, she’s delirious. 

He paces around the cave they’re staying in. Lily’s wearing her warmest cloak and is tucked into her sleeping bag, a blanket on top as well, but she still seems to be shivering, and her forehead is burning. He needs food and medicine, more than anything else. 

Wormtail bounces up to him, and he pats the flying lemur on his head. “Wormy, do you think you could get some food for us? Something cold, preferably, to help Lily.” He tries to gesture with his hands, and Wormy nods—well, as best as a flying lemur can nod, anyway. James grins. “Good Wormy.”

He spends the next hour worrying over Lily, pressing a cold compress soaked with water to her forehead. He can’t risk taking her to a doctor in town, especially now that the Fire Nation definitely knows what he and Lily look like. They’d just as likely be arrested as helped. 

It doesn’t get any better when Wormtail finally returns. Instead of food, he’s brought back what looks to be an expensive wristwatch. It’ll be helpful when they can sell it, but right now, it’s about as useful as a rock.

Actually, even a rock would probably be more useful. 

Then, suddenly, it comes to him. He recognizes the mountain in the distance—at the last town they docked in, one old woman had told him about a healer who lived in the green mountains. That mountain looks pretty green to him. 

“I’ll come back soon, Lily,” he whispers. Lily mumbles incoherently, turning over in her sleep, and James smiles at her softly. “Don’t worry.”

He bounds out of the cave, running as fast as he can. If he conjures up a dust cyclone to bring him to the top of the mountain faster, well, no one saw him, right? It’ll be fine.

Finally, he reaches the top of the mountain, panting. He rushes inside the building to find an old woman with long white hair, walking slowly as she waters plants.

“Hi,” he breaths. “My friend is super sick—like, really, really sick—and I need medicine for her. I think she has a fever, and she’s coughing too. Do you have any—”

“Shh,” the woman whispers. “Let yourself connect with the elements, and all will be revealed.”

“Okay, I’m the Avatar. I’m the most connected with the elements. Anyway! Do you have any advice for my sick friend? Please?”

“Frogs,” the woman says sagely. “She will suck on frozen wood frogs, for only then can she be well. You may find them in the swamp at the base of this mountain. But take care that the frogs don’t thaw, because then they’ll be useless. Useless!”

James looks at the woman dubiously. She smiles. Her mouth definitely has too many teeth. “Okay?” And then, studying her face, “Oh man, you don’t have a clue what you’re doing.”

The woman just smiles back, and James groans. The problem is, he doesn’t actually have any other ideas besides having Lily suck on frozen frogs, as unpleasant and frankly disturbing as that idea is. “Right. Frozen frogs it is.”

He grumbles as he wades through the swamp, which is definitely unsanitary and probably the spawn point for multiple infectious diseases. Finally, he sees a frog, and he traps it in a circle of earth quickly, smiling. He tucks the frog into his pocket. For good measure, he scoops another one up too, and breathes a sigh of relief at his good fortune. Now, he can go back to Lily, and she’ll be fine, and—

And he’s been pinned to a tree by archers. Wonderful.

Surprisingly, being hung from chains on all fours isn’t as uncomfortable as it could be. It would almost be kind of fun, if he wasn’t in a life-and-death situation and being held captive by Admiral Malfoy. Again. He really needs to get better at evasion tactics. Briefly, he wonders if there’s a way he could just turn invisible. That would solve a good 50% of his problems. 

And now Malfoy’s monologuing. Again.

“You see, Avatar—”

“Okay, like I’ve told you five times already, my name is James.”

“You see, Avatar, you seem to be under the impression that I’m here to kill you. No, no.” Here, Malfoy laughs, and James wonders why his life is just so uniquely terrible. “No, Avatar, I’m going to keep you alive. If you die, things will only get even more complicated. I can’t afford to let the Avatar cycle continue, after all. No, I’ll bring you to the brink of death, so much that you wish you could be dead, but you’ll be alive. Always alive, at the end.”

“Wow, you’re so very kind,” James simpers. 

Malfoy sneers at him. “No one is coming to help you, Avatar. No one can penetrate the walls of this fortress. Not even your little waterbender girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!” Wait, why did he say that? He’d love for Lily to be his girlfriend. “I mean—”

Malfoy laughs cruelly again. He strides out of the room, shutting the door behind him harshly.

James looks around the dimly lit room. There’s no earth to be found, but there is air. If he could just get out of these cuffs, maybe he would have a chance. And then he feels the frogs start to wriggle in the pocket of his robes, and he groans again. Just wonderful.

He struggles against the cuffs again, wincing as they bruise his skin. Then, suddenly, he hears a commotion from outside the room, and he cranes his neck to hear.

It’s unmistakably a fight—he can hear the clashing of swords and the shouts of soldiers. Maybe Malfoy’s army has finally mutinied. He’d deserve it. 

Then, he hears the turning of the lock to the door, and he swallows hard. He prays that it’s not Malfoy again. 

Slowly, the door opens, revealing a figure wearing a red mask that looks almost like a lion, the mouth open in a roar. It’s kind of terrifying, to be honest. And that’s not even to mention the two swords the figure is holding, sharp and deadly. 

He stifles a gasp when the figure brings down the swords, but instead of feeling pain rush throughout his body, he falls to the ground as his restraints are cut. 

“Who are you? And thank you—” James starts, but the figure shushes him, beckoning James to the door. James follows the figure as they quietly creep through the doorway, though he can’t help but protest when the now-thawed frogs bounce out of his pocket. “Hey, guys, come on! Lily needs to suck on you guys to get healthy, you know.”

“Shut up,” the figure hisses in a low voice. “Do you want to be recaptured?”

Mutely, James shakes his head. Something about the figure’s clear distaste for this situation is vaguely familiar, but he doesn’t have much time to worry about that as they creep out of the fortress through the ground and begin to climb up the tall wall surrounding it with a rope. 

And then the alarm sounds, blaring, terrifyingly loud, and alerting every single soldier in the vicinity of the wall to their presence. He feels them falling before he even sees the guard who severed the rope. 

“FIND THE AVATAR!” he hears Malfoy bellow, and inwardly, he sighs, because that just had to happen now too, didn’t it.

The ensuing battle can be described as nothing short of chaotic. He manages to throw back a good amount of Fire Nation soldiers, and the masked figure shields him from the soldiers when he can. They make a good team, James realizes, this random red-masked guy and him. He wonders what Lily would think if he brought back the figure in the morning—hey Lily, I made a new friend! I don’t know what his name is, but he saved me from a lifetime of torture at the hands of Malfoy, so he seems to be pretty all right. 

They manage to almost scale the wall for a second time, this time with bamboo letters, but unfortunately, once again, a soldier manages to stop them. This time, James realizes, they’re completely surrounded by firebenders, and he gulps. And there’s no earth around him at all, of course. Even the ground is metal. 

“Stop!” he hears Malfoy call. “Do not harm the Avatar. I want him alive, do you hear me?” And then he feels the two swords at his throat.

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t bring this new friend back to Lily.

Slowly, with the swords still at his throat—vaguely familiar situations again—he and the masked figure back away. They’re almost at the gates—finally!—when the masked figure crumples to the ground. There’s no time to dwell on that, though—he can hear the firebenders running behind him and Malfoy’s increasingly deranged shouts, so the moment they’re finally clear of the gates, him dragging the masked figure behind him, James sends up an enormous wall of earth. That’ll take them a while to get past, hopefully. 

He pulls the masked figure up and onto his back as he runs, as far away from the fortress as possible. Finally, panting, he stops in a forest, tugging both himself and the figure up into a tree.

“Er—hi,” James starts awkwardly. “I’m going to remove your mask now, if that’s okay, just to, you know, check for internal injuries and all that. Wait, that doesn’t make sense. Facial injuries, I meant—if it’s okay with you, of course.”

The masked figure gives no reply. Oh, right, he’s unconscious. 

He’ll take that as a yes, then. Slowly, James peels back the mask from the figure. He doesn’t even have time to stifle the gasp.

It’s Prince Sirius. Again.

“Why do you keep saving me?” James asks softly. Prince Sirius, of course, gives no reply. “Well, thank you for doing it, even if I don’t know why you’re doing it. I didn’t get the chance to tell you thank you last time you saved us—because you were saving us, weren’t you—so thank you for that too. You really got me and Lily out of a tight spot there.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Prince Sirius snaps, suddenly conscious. “I just don’t want Malfoy and my fucking bastard of a father to destroy the world.”

James shrugs. “Well, you still saved me.”

“And I don’t want to have to do it again,” Prince Sirius replies. “How do you manage to keep getting captured? Malfoy doesn’t even have two brain cells to rub together. It shouldn’t be that hard to avoid him.”

“No invisibility cloak,” James quips, and Prince Sirius looks at him with contempt.

“Try to not die, okay? It really shouldn’t be that hard,” Prince Sirius says. He slides down the trunk of the tree, wincing when he lands.

“Do you need a hand back to—uh, wherever you came from?” James asks. “I don’t think you should be walking on that.”

“No,” Prince Sirius says curtly. James watches as he limps out of his sight, disappearing into the trees. He sighs. As far as he can tell, Prince Sirius is an enigma wrapped up in a riddle wrapped up in an impenetrable hedge maze. 

Three more hours later, he’s finally back at the cave, having managed to somehow find two more frozen frogs in the swamp. He gives them to Lily to suck on, and she hums appreciatively in her sleep.

An hour later, she wakes, sputtering. “James, what the fuck is this?”

“Frozen frogs,” he says cheerfully. “Did they help?”

“Why did you think—you know what, I don’t even know if I want to know,” she says, sighing. “I think I’ve been traumatized.”

“But you’re better!”

“Sure.”

part x

[inorganicone2230]

Divine Intervention (Part 4) Yandere!Erasermic x Fem!Reader

Part 3 Part 5

Summary: Sometimes a little divine intervention is necessary to take back the ones we love… whether they want it or not.

Warnings: Suicide, kidnapping, forced relationship, emotional and mental manipulation, typical Yandere behavior, possible non-con in future chapters, see tags below for more

Side Note: Elements of non-con in this chapter!

Please Enjoy!

Soft.

That was the first word that came to mind as you wake up and your eyes tried to open. ‘Since when has my bed been this comfy?’

You never really had much trouble with waking up. The moment you would hear your alarm or phone go off you were bright eyed and out of bed in an instant. So the fact that you were having such a hard time jostling yourself from sleeps clutches was slightly alarming to you.

Your mind was groggy and you couldn't seem to come up with the strength to even lift your arms to rub the crust from your eyes. Your mouth also felt dry, like you had been sucking on cotton balls all night.

Wait…

Last night!

Instantly the cloud of sleepiness was gone and you shot up right. Those two weirdo lookalikes had kidnapped you! But wait… before you had passed out, they had changed. Changed to look more like their counterparts from the dreams. It certainly didn't take a genius to put two and two together to come to the realization that they were one and the same. The room you were in proved that much.

It was a room you knew all too well. From the bed the size of two kings covered in extravagant blankets and fluffy pillows, to the walls draped in lavish wall-scrolls and tapestries. The scenes depicted ranging from epic battles and iconic moments from mythology, to tranquil gardens, forests and lake sides. Even the size of the room itself, you could fit three of your apartments in here and still have room to move around.

It was the same room the two men shared in your dreams. Though, you were beginning to suspect that they were never really dreams to begin with. Not ones that your mind conjured up all on it's own at any rate.

Despite only being awake for a few moments, the knowledge of the situation you currently find yourself in was undeniably terrifying and you wished more than anything that you could write it off as just another dream. However, you weren't stupid OR gullible enough to actually let that thought progress further.

For starters, you were interacting with the environment. You could move your body and touch with freewill. You could look around as much as you wanted, or not at all if that's what you chose. All the other times you you were merely the dreams puppet, moved and positioned against your will. You weren't even allowed to blink or close your eyes, all you could do was stare blankly ahead at whatever was in front of you.

These changes alone were enough to assure you that this was real. Or something that felt substantially real at the very least.

You wanted to go back to sleep, to close your eyes and let this hell fade into the back of your mind. To cover your ears and pretend you were anywhere else.

But your looming fear was to great. The questions you had racing through your mind were to big to let you try and forget where you were. You needed to figure something, anything out about your situation.

You slowly began to crawl off the oversized bed. You needed to look around and get your bearings, who knew when those psychos would come back.

With your feet firmly planted on the floor you first took note of how you were dressed. You were no longer wearing the clothes you had last night, instead you wore a simple silk robe that just brushed the tops of your feet. Black with emerald green vines winding around it. You felt sick at the thought of one or even both of them taking off your clothes to put you in this thing! At least you could still feel your underwear. That was something…

To be honest, despite it being their bedroom, there wasn't much to see or find. Nothing that you saw as useful anyway. There weren't even any visible doors along the walls, not even a seam for a secret one as far as you could tell! And all the windows were too high up for you to reach, even if you stood on something.

You had seen it all before, but now you were getting to touch and look more closely. You saw the masterfully crafted low-sitting vanity table that -The Golden One- Hizashi usually did his hair in front of, brushes, ties, hair sticks and other little trinkets scattered about it's smooth polished surface. A large bathroom like area complete with a built in hot spring. And a few dressers and trunks, each filled to the brim with beautiful and intricate clothing that looked more like it belonged on the set of a period-piece style movie than in someone's personal wardrobe, there were even a few modern articles scattered about. It wasn't hard to figure out whose clothes were who's, though you were incredibly disturbed by the sheer amount of women's clothing and undergarments you found. You had a feeling you knew who they were meant for and that was something you just weren't ready to think about yet. There were other things to, like a writing desk and a small library in the back of the room, but nothing else really.

You took a seat back on the bed and began to think. Why were you here? What did they want from you? How could you get away? Were they going to hurt or kill you?

You highly doubted that they were going to do something as drastic as kill you! They did go through all the trouble of kidnapping you after all, they even went so far as to put you in sleeping clothes and even let you sleep in their bed! But even so, you were beginning to panic again. Whatever calm rationality had affected your thoughts upon first waking was dwindling down to nothing. Your knuckles were turning white with how hard you were gripping the sheets and breathing was becoming difficult. The only sound besides you labored breath was the rush of blood in your ears as your heart pounded louder and faster than ever before. That's probably why you almost missed it.

The sound of a sliding door.

Your eyes shot up from the floor to see them standing in a doorway that had not been there before. They were smiling at you as if nothing was wrong, as if they hadn't kidnapped you.

“How are you feeling Kitten?”

“Did you sleep well? We tried to make you as comfortable as possible.”

The sound of their voices made you feel like you had been doused in ice water. You shot up and ran to the other side of the bed, you knew it was a futile effort but you needed to put space between yourself and them.

They watched your actions and looked at each other, sighing in unison.

“I suppose we should have expected this kind of reaction.” Shouta said.

“You don't have to run away from us Sweetling. The last thing we would ever do is hurt you.” Hizashi tried to reassure you. “Why don't you come over here and we can talk, so we can explain what's going on.”

You snapped, “How about you tell me right now and then go fuck yourselves!” You knew you should probably stop while you were ahead, but you weren't done, not by a long-shot. “ I want to know what is going on?! Why am I here, who are you and why do you look like them?!”

“Your here because this is where you belong. It's where you have always belonged.” Shouta replied. He said it with such certainty, such conviction.

“What the fuck does that even mean?! I don't know you freaks!” You shouted in frustration.

Hizashi stepped forward and held out his hand to you, like he really expected you to take it. Yeah right, as if?!

He must have made the brilliant deduction and realized that you weren't going to accept his offer because after a few moments he dropped his hand into the long sleeves of his robe. He pulled out a small vial, it's contents shimmered a faint silver. “If you come over here and drink this, everything will make sense (Y/N), we promise. Just be a good girl and do this for us.”

Unbelievable. They were crazy, that's the only explanation there was. You told them so, “You must be crazy! Deranged! Absolutely certifiably fucking insane if you think that I would ever drink something that came from your hands!” You were beyond being civil by this point, you were livid and coupled with your mounting fear, the words just wouldn't stop. “I would rather slit my own god damn throat and choke on the blood then do anything for you two!”

You saw them stiffen, their eyes widening with some emotion you couldn't quite decipher. Fear? Shock? Anger? It could have been any one of them… or all of them. All you knew was that the second the words left your mouth, that it was the wrong thing to say.

Faster than you could even comprehend what was going on, they were on you. How had they moved so quickly?

You had a sense of déjà vu as you backed up, right into a wall. The two of them crowded you, glaring down at you as Shouta took your chin firmly between his fingers, squeezing so hard you thought it might bruise. It made you feel like a deer caught in the headlights.

“You will never say something like that in front of us ever again! If you do, I promise you will not like the outcome. Do I make myself clear?”

All your bravado from a few moments ago was gone, replaced by crippling fear with how close they were.

Shouta however, was not satisfied with your lack of response and gripped your chin with more force, his eyes flashing a menacing shade of red. “Answer me! Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.”

Self preservation was a powerful motivator, it was probably the only thing that made you able to speak at all. “Yes! I understand!” You scrunched your eyes closed and cowered further into the wall.

His eyes softened and his hold on your face relaxed with your submission as he held your cheek in the palm of his hand, stroking his thumb back and forth across the smooth skin. “I am so very sorry for frightening you Kitten, but you have to understand how hurtful it is for you to say such things to us. The very idea of you being hurt, even at your own hand is not something we even want to think about again.”

‘Again?’ What was that supposed to mean?

Hizashi picked up right where Shouta left off and spoke next, “Just drink your medicine, everything will make sense once you do.”

You shake your head, eyes still unable to meet theirs willingly. “I-I can't! I-I don't want to! Please just take me home! I don't want to be here…” Tears brought on by both fear and frustration slide down your cheeks.

“We're sorry Sweetling.” You highly doubted that. “But we can't do that. This is your home now, and it will be forever. It would be in your best interest to get used to it.” Hizashi said matter of factually.

You felt numbed by his words. Logically you knew you had no chance of getting away on your own, they obviously weren't human, and that knowledge alone was enough to send your mind reeling. A small part of your brain was telling you to give in and just do as they say, that it would be easier than trying to fight a losing battle.

But you just couldn't bring yourself to do it… the unknown was just too scary.

“I figured this was how it was going to play out. She always has been a stubborn one.” You heard Shouta admit. “Do you want to do it this time Zashi?”

“Stop talking like you know me!”

Your outburst went ignored.

“Of course! It's not as if I have to hold back this time after all.” He shot you a filthy grin that made your skin crawl.

You tensed up, you had a feeling you knew what they were talking about and you clamped your mouth shut tight just in time to feel Shouta grab you by the arm and yank you closer to him. Your back was pressed against the firm lines and ridges of his well defined chest and abs and he used only one arm to keep both of yours pinned to your sides in some twisted version of a backwards hug. You still couldn't believe how flipping strong they were! You wanted so badly to scream at them to stop but you knew you had to keep your mouth shut.

“Can you give me a hand here Shou?” The blond asked before uncorking the little bottle and pouring the liquid into his mouth.

You felt him nod from behind you and suddenly felt his other hand come up and cover your face. More specifically, your nose! He was trying to force you to open your mouth by cutting off your only other source of oxygen! You began to thrash and jerk around, kicking out your legs in an effort to knock him off balance. To bad for you he was like a fucking statue, the only sound he even made was a deep groan when your backside rubbed up against a certain area on his body.

But with no oxygen to sustain you, your movements quickly ceased. You felt lightheaded and against your wishes, your body finally took that involuntary breath it was so desperately craving.

Large hands took hold of your face and a warm mouth latched onto your own at the same time you felt Shouta’s free hand move up to your forehead and pull your head back, keeping you locked firmly in place.

You would have tried screaming, but Hizashi’s kiss was forcing the contents of the vile down your throat and you really didn't feel like choking. He moaned into the kiss and slide his tongue against your own. You had the fleeting thought that you should bite down like you did before but it was like they could read your mind, because Shouta’s breath was suddenly ghosting across your ear, “If you try to pull that same little stunt you did last time, you're going to regret it… Now, just be a good girl and enjoy it with us.” He whispered hotly and took your earlobe between his teeth to give a slight nip. The action sent an unwelcome heat curling in your core and you felt ashamed when it made your panties dampen with desire.

You knew he meant what he said and so you stayed perfectly still while they continued this assault on you. Hizashi continued to kiss you, and you felt drops of the liquid slide down your chin and neck. His hands having moved from your face to your waist, pulling you towards him and grinding his hardening cock against you. Shouta meanwhile was doing much the same, holding you in place and rolling your ass slowly across his bulge while his mouth worked on leaving all sorts of marks on either side of your neck.

You did your best to tune it out, to pretend that you were anywhere else but in this situation. But trying to do that was proving to be a challenge as unwanted arousal and something else were burning inside you. You suspected it had to do with what you drank, the effects reminding you of sleeping pills. You felt lethargic, your body was heavy and you knew if you were to lie down and close your eyes that you would have no problem falling asleep if you wanted to. Unlike the stuff they forced you to drink last time though, this one didn't make you feel like you were going to pass out.

Eventually Hizashi pulled away from your lips, leaving you gasping for breath. He smiled down at you with a dopey grin on his face, “You did so well Sweetling! We just need you to give it another moment to kick in.” He praised you, like a parent congratulating their child on getting a good grade.

“Don’t worry Kitten, you'll understand everything in just a few moments.” Shouta continued, nuzzling his nose into your neck and taking a deep inhale. “Fuck,” he groaned, “I had almost forgotten how utterly fantastic she smells Zashi.”

Hizashi gave the other man a filthy smile before locking eyes with you, “She tastes fucking good too. I can't wait to bury my tongue between her legs and get a real taste. It's been far too long.”

You were still trapped between them and unable to move much, but that didn't stop you from trying, or voicing your displeasure. “Get the hell off of me! Stop touching me already and start explaining what is going on!” More useless struggles. “Why do you two keep talking like you kn-”

All movements and protests from you came to a crashing halt.

“Looks like it's started.” You heard one of them whisper. You didn't know which one though.

You were being bombarded by images, images that you had never seen before, but you somehow knew every detail about them as soon as they flashed before your eyes. You saw a little girl who you knew as yourself, dressed in clothes worn by people thousands of years ago and playing with other children by a pond, spending time with your mother in her garden, helping your father gather firewood for the coming winter. These and so many more filled your mind to the point of bursting, an entire lifetime’s worth heaped upon you in a matter of seconds until finally, only a few remained…

-Bending down to pick up the weak little Cardinal with the broken wing, cradling it ever so gently in your hands as you rushed home to tend to it.

-The weeks spent patiently caring for it until it could at last fly again.

-Meeting the birds owners a few days later, two handsome men, one light, the other dark. They came to express their gratitude for the kindness you showed their little pet, telling you that they lived in the area and had heard from the villagers in the market that a girl fitting your description had been carrying for it. You would come to regret not questioning their words further.

-Becoming friends with them over the course of the next few months. You simply assumed they were lonely living in the mountains by themselves and you enjoyed the company as well, you never felt the need to give it much more thought.

-That fateful night they came to the home you lived in by yourself. To tell you who they really were, The Gods of Life and Death. They proved it when one killed a hare without touching it and the other brought it back with a touch of his glowing hand.

-You were shocked of course! But you asked them why they were telling you this all of a sudden. Their answer left you speechless.

-They said that they loved you. That your kindness concerning the Cardinal had endeared you to them as well as the months leading up to this night. They said they had come to get you, to take you back home with them.

-You refused. Bowed and told them that while you were honored by their opinion of you, you had friends and your parents here. A life that you loved and didn't want to leave.

-They did not seem to take your rejection to badly. They appeared saddened, but otherwise seemed to respect your decision, even offering to make you some tea before you went back to bed, with the assurance that you wouldn’t lose their friendship as a result. You happily accepted. That was a mistake...

-They did something to the tea, waiting until you had gone back to bed before stealing you away. The drug making you fall into a deep undisturbed sleep, only to awaken later on in an unfamiliar place. They told you that you were just confused and that you would come to love them in time, that they would show how much they loved you. Your pleas and wishes to be let go fell on deaf ears.

-The time with them in that beautiful prison was a nightmare. Day after day, night after night. Being forced to spend all your time with them no matter how loudly you screamed to be let go. Being forced to share their bed with them as they used your body, all while they called it making love. The pleasure they forced upon you did not make it bearable and pleading and begging did not dissuade them.

And finally…

-Reaching your breaking point. They were so convinced of your feelings for them, that you truly loved them and simply did not know how to express it. They were so wrapped up in this fantasy that they never even considered thinking you would try to hurt yourself.

-You used one of the hair ornaments they had gifted you with to slit both your wrists and even stab yourself in the heart for good measure. It stung, but the pain was worth it. You laid back and waited. In that time you had a few more thoughts pass through your mind but in just a few moments everything was black. Nothing.

--------

You came to, blinking in astonishment, and still trapped between them.

“W-What was…”

“Do you finally remembered (Y/N)? Do you understand now why we've done this? Do you understand just how much we love you? That we will never let you go? Never!” Hizashi whispered across your lips, pulling you even deeper into his suffocating embrace.

“It was so very selfish to do that to us darling.” This time it was Shouta. “Do you have any idea what the last five thousand years have been like for us? We have had to live without you all this time and it was nearly unbearable.” His grip on you was bruising.

You were still in too much shock to really pay attention to what they were saying. You remembered everything! It didn't matter that these memories might have been fake, they felt real, and that was all that counted. Because deep down in your soul, some part of yourself that you couldn't lie to, told you that they had been very real.

And this knowledge gave way to fear. You now knew exactly what they were capable of doing to you, what they were willing to do to find you and keep you. Panic set it. “How?!” You gasped, “How did this happen?! Killing myself was supposed to free me from you two, so how am I still here?!”

They must have decided that it was safe to let you go because all at once they released you, stepping away to simply watch what you would do next.

“We don't know why your soul did not fade. We have a few theories but nothing concrete.” Shouta started, “Shortly after we found your body, we realized your soul was still here and we rushed to rectify your mistake. We set your soul down the path of reincarnation, we spent all this time doing everything in our power to make sure you would come back to us someday, and here you are at last. Our sweet darling girl is home for good.” You could hear the sickening love in his voice as your head shot up to glare at them.

“Not for long! I got away from you two maniacs once, I can do it again!” You declared. Where there's a will there's a way.

They both looked at you, then each other, then back to you before Hizashi let out a deep mocking chuckle. “That won't ever happen Sweetling. We have taken measures to see to it that that will never happen. Measures we did not take before because we were foolish enough not to consider every possibility.”

You felt a cold dread wash over you at his words, “What k-kind of measures?”

“Just simple things really, like making sure your never left alone. From now on, one or both of us will be with you at all times. It will be a very long time before we give you any kind of privacy again. But the biggest one is the contents of the medicine we gave you.” His voice was filled with such joy at the mere thought of it.

“Wait… wasn't that... just to make me remember? To restore my memories?” You were definitely losing it now and for every step back you took, they took two to follow you, until the back of your knees hit the bed and you fell. You scrambled to roll over and crawl away from them but it was to late, they were already sitting on either side of you. Picking you up with ease, Shouta settled you into his lap while the blonde moved to be closer to the two of you. Neither seemed to mind how hard you were struggling, they just continued on with their explanation.

“Yes, and no.” Was their answer. “You see, we added a little something special to the mixture that wasn't part of the original recipe.”

“Special?” You had the feeling you were about to regret asking that.

“Our blood.”

“W-What?!” You locked eyes with The God of Life and tasted bile on your tongue when you saw no sign of deceit on his smug face.

Shouta took over the talking again, calmly and rationally explaining what that meant. “We mixed some of our blood into it. You simply being here in the Heavens is enough to keep you young and immortal, that part is easy. But after your little -shall we say- transgression, we had to consider other things as well.” He paused to make sure you were paying attention and continued, “My blood for instance, should you ever manage to get yourself hurt that badly again, will make sure that your soul is sent directly to me. It will keep your body on the very cusp of life until your wounds have healed and I can reattach your soul back to it. Nothing short of me ripping your soul to shreds can ever kill you now.”

“And as for my blood,” Hizashi took you from Shouta as easily as if you were a rag-doll, setting you down in his lap this time. “it will heal you. No matter how severe the wound is, my blood coursing through you will make sure that you always heal and never scar.” He wrapped his arms around you and rocked you back and forth. “And as a nice little side effect, if you ever manage to get lost our blood will act like a beacon for us, we will always be able to find you now!”

“Not that you have to worry about any of this, they are just precautions after all. Nothing can or will ever harm you again. Not even yourself.

This wasn't happening! This couldn't be happening! You wracked your brain, trying to think of some way to get out of this, but every idea that came to mind was shot down. Every plan you could think of was foiled by these “precautions” they spoke of. And even if you could think of one that would allow you to avoid every one of them, how were you supposed to execute it if they planned on being with you every second of every day? You couldn't, you realized. You were probably stuck here indefinitely for the time being… for now anyway. The very concept had knots forming in your stomach.

All of this did leave you with one burning question in your mind though. One that you had been wanting an answer to for years.

“The dream’s?” You whispered quietly.

“Hmm? What was that?”

You clenched you fists. “The dreams. Why make me have those dreams?”

“Oh, those?” Hizashi replied. You hated how damn proud of themselves they sounded. “We wanted you to get accustomed to us and the palace again. We thought it might help make the transition a little easier if you already knew your way around.”

It was a simple explanation, one that brought you no satisfaction of any kind. But then again, you doubted that any answer they gave would have made you feel anything other than bitter.

You felt dead inside, numb and lifeless. How could things have gone so downhill?! Just yesterday you were a normal adult, working a normal job, living in a normal city in a normal apartment, spending time with your normal friends. Now you didn't know what you were or what you were doing. All you knew was that you wanted to be anywhere else but here.

The two deities fawning over you did not seem to notice or care about your lack of response to anything they said or did. They were too caught up in their reunion with you. To ecstatic over their plans success.

“You'll see,” one of them said, “things will be better this time. We will make you so happy the thought of leaving us will never cross your mind ever again.”

So, the next chapter will pick up right where this one left off, no time skip or anything. It was just getting kind of bogged down with too much exposition so I decided to split it in half. lol

As always, thank you again to @jadepillar18 for the inspiration on this story and I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

[seven-oomen]

Hi, Ben!  Sending this this way because it’ll probably (definitely) be too long for an ask.  That whole Venom/TW has me cackling and wishing I’d seen Venom and could visualize it better. 

Also totally picturing Peter’s wolf manifesting a la Venom (I see this in a lot of fanart, don’t know how often it happens in the film), and it’s this little black wolf-like creature somewhere between his alpha form and a regular wolf, with glowing blue eyes and a slightly too long panting tongue.

Also, an internal (hopefully) argument:  (Peter and Noah talking while waiting to see the mayor.)

Wolf:  PEEEETTEEEERRRR… WE WANT THIS ONE PETERRR…

Peter:  No, love.

Wolf:  BUT HE JUST SMELLS SO GOOD, PETER…

Peter:  No, this is neither the time nor the place.

Wolf:  JUST ONE LITTLE TASTE, PETER…

Peter:  For the last time, not right now!

Wolf:  PLEAS-

Peter:  NO!!

(How much of this Noah can follow or is confused by is up to you.)

Also, I don’t know the specifics of what drives the lobster scene, but I’m just picturing stuff like Peter randomly grabbing squirrels out of trees to munch on, or wandering into the Sheriff’s station and forcibly climbing into Noah’s lap (he usually remembers to shut the office door at least, and if any of the deputies notice they’re just like “fucking Beacon Hills, man”, so once Noah figures out how to do his paperwork around the wolf in his arms he just rolls with it), or being the one to bring in Erica and Isaac because his wolf was trying to be helpful and “THIS ONE SMELLS SICK, TOO!” (Isaac tries to insist he’s fine, but the wolf just keeps yelling “SADNESS IS ALSO A SICKNESS!”).  Having occasional arguments with the wolf that just because Chris and Allison smell vaguely like Kate, it doesn’t mean he can kill them.

Also, if Laura wants to play at being alpha now, I hope she plans on apologizing for abandoning her uncle and leaving him to die instead of taking him along so that they could heal him together and not let him stay trapped in a haze of grief and rage and agony for years.  And somebody needs to do that claw ritual thing if only to ask Talia “hey, quick question. What the actual, ever-loving fuck?” re: all the memory stealing.

Anyway, even knowing as little about one of the sources as I do, I second that the idea is hilarious, and has definitely helped distract me from the fact that my phone decided not to charge overnight and was dead as a brick this morning, and the resulting anger issues.

Hope you’re feeling better today!  Take care!  *Hugs!*

I’m feeling a lot better today pain wise today, it def feels like my body kinda caught up like; wait a second.. we’re not supposed to be doing this anymore. I mean it’s still there just not painful.

As for the Venom thing. GIMME!! I hadn’t considered it physically manifesting like that but that would honestly be really funny. I personally thought of it more as a spectral image of his wolf form that appears and that only he can see. 

(Because Venom manifesting can be seen by everyone around Eddie, and I honestly think it’s a lot funnier to have a spectral wolf bugger Peter because that would make him seem more deranged.)

Noah (and the rest of the room, lol) only heard the last NO! and everyone is kinda staring at him at that point so he has to find a quick way to make that seem sense.

Peter: “Don’t try the deviled eggs they’re honestly not that good.” 

*Cue an entire room of people eyeing the eggs suspiciously.*

Noah has to hold his laughter because holy shit that was both the worst and best thing he’s ever seen. It’s a good thing he likes this asshole.

The lobster scene in Venom is mostly about Eddie trying to show Anne (his ex) what’s going on. So in this case it would be Peter trying to show Noah or Chris who set the fire and that he has proof and people should listen to him but he’s rattling to something nobody else can see and people think he’s lost his mind. And honestly just so HUNGRY. So he randomly grabs a squirrel out of tree and starts eating it raw/alive. 

People are DISTURBED. Especially Stiles/Liam/Allison. And Peter’s just eating and rattling and has pure chaotic energy and someone has to get him to calm down. So either Chris or Deaton or maybe Noah has to come in and get Peter to let go of the squirrel and come back inside for a nap.

For reference this is the scene in venom:

And yes, that is Dan carrying Eddie out in a deleted scene. So imagine Chris, Deaton, or Noah having to do that for Peter.

And oh god I can just imagine all the fucking deputies being like; “Oh hey Hale, yeah door’s open, it’s fucking Beacon Hills, go right in.”

Bahahahaha omg that’s the best.

Noah’s so tired but he’s so used to the snugglewolf, he allows it.

And Laura has sooooo much to atone for but she knows that and I feel like she’d try her best to do so. She knows she fucked up, she knows what she did was horrible. And she tries to atone, she apologizes and tries to be there for Peter now. (I also feel like Laura was like, 17? When the fire occurred. So in a way she was a kid too. It doesn’t excuse her but I also understand her.)

And oooh boy.... Talia will be questioned so much by Peter and her kids. The amount of anger and resentment they share over their mother/sister. They will chew her out in the memories. And when they figure out Jackson and Malia are Hales too, oooooffff. Haven’t decided who their father is in this universe though. A part of me wants to say Chris, because that’s who I usually default to, but it might also be fun to consider Noah?

For extra pain: Talia stole one last memory of Peter and Noah and the birth of their youngest son Theo. For consideration. Don’t know if i’d put that in but if you want to amp up all the drama, there’s a way to do that.

Anyway this ask has me coming up with all sort of wonderful ideas while I wait for the delivery of my Christmas present. (Spiderman Miles Morales). And I thought I’d share before I tackle your other submission. Feel free to add anything or send more asks if you want. <3

Hope your day will go well B!

[exhaustedfander]

“What if I told you I love you?” Chapter Three

I know I initially said this was going to be a three-chapter work, but in writing this chapter I realized a fourth one is gonna be necessary. Enjoy, I'd love to hear what you think and have a wonderful day/night.

Word count: 2,143

a03 link

Writing Masterpost link

Previous Chapter 

Logan is woken suddenly by the sound of a door slamming against the wall. He shoots up in bed, fumbling for his glasses as he sees Virgil stand to face whoever’s opened the door so violently.

“Leave him the fuck alone, Deceit!” Ah, Janus is here. Wonderful.  

“Get out of the way, Virgil. This is no concern of you.”

“No concern of me? Logan’s in a shit mental state, all because of Remus.”

“And you aren’t worried for Remus at all? You two used to spend a lot of time together if I’m not mistaken. You don’t care that he’s hurting too?”

“S-shut up! He did this to himself; he didn’t have to confess to Logan, and not like that. He fucked himself over.”

Virgil guards the doorway protectively, not daring to let the deceitful side enter.

“So you don’t care that he’s crying his eyes out, then? I haven’t seen him so distraught since you left –.”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Janus. I know what you’re trying to do and – and it isn’t working. Leave Logan alone.”

“Let him in,” Logan says suddenly, his voice far hoarser than he’d assumed it would be. Virgil swivels to face his friend, concern burning in his eyes.

“But –.”

“It’s okay, Virgil,” he says, in an attempt to reassure the anxious side to the best of his ability in such a state, “Come in, Janus.”

Logan doesn’t miss the hiss Virgil sends Janus’s way as he steps aside and allows him to walk into the room. Logan shoves the blankets off, knowing he must look a fright considering the lack of tie, resemblance to a bird’s nest his hair bears, and his flushed cheeks. Looks like professionalism is out the window, all things considered.

“Logan, I know we’re not exactly on the firmest of footing,” Janus begins, but Logan is quick to interrupt.

“What's happening with Remus? That’s why you’ve come here, isn’t it?” Janus takes a step closer to the bed, ignoring the icy glare Virgil is sending him.

“Yes, it is. I can respect you cutting to the chase –.” “Get to the point, Janus,” Logan cuts in, exhaustion and fear mingling in his tone so that they are almost one entity.

“Virgil,” Janus says, turning to the anxious side, “Could you give us a moment?” Virgil sputters. 

“No way! Logan, you don’t seriously want to be in a room alone with this snake, do you?” Logan’s hesitation sparks something in Virgil, panic fluttering. “L, c’mon, man…”

“It’s alright,” he says as reassuringly as he’s able, “I promise, there’s nothing to fear. Janus and I will merely be having a conversation. I know you’re concerned, and I appreciate that, but it’s going to be okay.”

Virgil glowers at Janus, still visibly concerned with the idea of the two of them being alone in the same room. Logan can’t completely fault Virgil; he knows the history of their relationship is complicated, to say the least, and while Janus has gained acceptance into the group, that doesn’t stop Virgil from being wary of him.

“Fine,” Virgil sighs, his body still clearly wound up with tension, “But I won’t be far off. If you need anything, just –.”

“I will come and get you if the need arises,” Logan assures. Virgil nods uneasily, taking a final anxious moment to assess the fact that, perhaps, a conversation with Janus wouldn’t be incredibly dangerous. Once the door is shut, with quite a bit more force than necessary, Janus turns back to Logan, a look of utmost seriousness carved into his face.

“What’s happened with Remus?” Logan asks, despising the rawness to his voice. A look flickers in Janus’s eyes, one that Logan would dare call predatory if it isn't immediately replaced with concern. 

“To put it bluntly: he’s a wreck. After your little conversation and the way you so intelligently left the room, he is distraught to a point I haven’t seen in years.”

Logan can feel his heart rate escalating the moment the words leave Janus’s mouth. Remus had confessed his love for him, of all things, and Logan had simply left with no explanation. Even in his state of over-emotion, and so many damned feelings, he knows that was by no means the best course of action. Even so, that doesn’t distract from the fact that Logan’s so lost in his emotions, emotions he’s hesitant to so much as face, he’s drowning in feelings, feelings he was so sure he didn’t have, he’s drowning –

“Lying to yourself won’t help.” Janus’s voice cuts through the jumbled thoughts that crowd his mind. Logan notices that he’s begun to shudder again and wonders how close he is to another breakdown. Surely, Janus won’t be as adept at handling him in that state as Virgil, not that he would want the deceitful side to see him so undignified.

“I – I’m not –.”

“Oh, of course not,” Janus says, voice dripping with sarcasm, “You aren’t lying to yourself. You would never be so desperate to convince yourself that you don’t have feelings for Remus. Am I correct? “I-I…” Logan struggles to dislodge anything more intelligible than that.

“Listen,” Janus says as he sits beside Logan on the bed, “I know this can’t be easy for you. Lord knows feelings are never something that make too much sense. And being Logic, I’m sure you’re doing everything in your power to make sense of them. But that,” Janus says pointedly, “Is precisely your problem. You’re trying to make sense of something that for the most part lacks logic.” Logan casts his eyes down on the comforter, the ache in his chest increasing with each passing moment.

“But I’m Logic. How is it that I can be feeling a-anything of this nature? It-it isn’t right.”

“Yes, Logic is your base function,” Janus agrees, “But that doesn’t stray from the fact that you are far more than that. Surely you don’t think my only purpose is lying?”

“Well, you have impersonated me several times now,” Logan mutters, still not facing Janus. The deceitful side lets out a sigh, silence falling over them for a moment before he speaks up.

“I apologize for any strife I may have caused you,” he says, somewhat apprehensively, but Logan cannot detect any malice or deceit in his tone, “I stand by the fact that I was doing what I needed to do at the time… but I’m sorry, for impersonating you, and for impersonating Patton, and for anything else I’ve done in the past that might be considered malicious.”

“I -,” Logan falters, not having expected such an apology, before deciding on his next words carefully, “I do believe I will be able to accept that apology with time.”

“Then that’s all I can ask for,” Janus says, sounding satisfied on that front, at least for now. “Now, back to the matter at hand.”

“Remus,” Logan says simply, hesitation deeply imbedded in his tone. While Virgil calming him done had done a great deal of good, that didn’t make all this any less difficult. Someone had confessed their love for Logan, Remus had done so, and despite the fear that continues to well inside of him, it's something he's going to have to face sooner or later.

“I know he shouldn’t have done it the way he did,” Janus says tiredly, shutting his eyes as he pinches his temple before looking back at Logan, “God, do I know that. It was clumsy and incredibly overwhelming on your end, I’m sure. But I suppose I wouldn’t expect much else form him.”

“I didn’t mean to cause him emotional distress,” Logan blurts suddenly, more emotion bubbling in him than he realizes, “I would never intentionally – that is, I’m not proficient with issues of this matter. I… feel horrible, for what I must’ve done.” The last sentence is muttered, shame tinting every word. A jolt of shock runs through him as a gloved hand settles on his shoulder.

“I know you didn’t mean to, Logan,” Janus says in a tone that tells Logan he’s doing his best to be comforting, despite the fact that neither of them are really suited for such a thing, “You’re not the type to be so mindlessly cruel. And it’s not as though Remus hasn’t caused you a great deal of your own emotional distress. He didn’t mean to, though I’m sure you know that.

“He tries his best, really, he does, but he doesn’t always know how to conduct himself in the most constructive ways. I tried to stop him from professing to you in such a way, but he refused to listen.”

“How much damage have I done?” Logan asks, taking the first steps into accepting the fact that he needs to do something about this. Janus sighs.

“Nothing you can’t undo, I’m sure,” he says, pausing, “If you’re careful.”

“He… he loves me? He really loves me?”

“He does,” Janus replies, “I haven’t seen him so bright-eyed in such a long time. He speaks with such fondness of you. Talks of you constantly, it’s getting to be quite tiresome – yet, I can’t find it in myself to scold him for it. It’s strangely… sweet. Though, I must say, seeing him walking down the hall with a beating human heart in hand, of origins I cannot possibly say, was cause for alarm.” Logan feels a flush run up his neck.

“I… I was the one who asked for the heart, actually,” Logan admits, no small amount of embarrassment seeping in, “He brought it to me for dissection.” Janus let out a roaring laugh, holding a hand to his head.

“Of course you did,” he said, his chuckle dying down as Logan crossed his arms over his chest, “Why would I expect any different from the likes of you two?” Logan takes a deep breath, and then a few more, allowing himself a final moment to process all he’s been going through emotionally before speaking:

“I love Remus.” Janus claps slowly and dramatically, a level of sarcasm that Logan really isn't in the mood for.

“Congratulations, you’re officially the last one to know.”

“Have I been that obvious?”

“Logan, dear, sweet Logic, a blind man would be able to see how helpless you are for him. And goodness, with Remus following after you like a love-sick puppy (is puppy quite the right word? Rabid, deranged wolf, maybe? Ah, it doesn’t matter) and hanging off of your every word? It’s obvious he feels just the same.”

“It seems as though I’ve been rather foolish, haven’t I?” “You realize you saying that just agrees with what I’ve been saying, don’t you? You and Remus have been acting insufferably stupid, and Remus already acts that way on a regular basis, so I refuse to deal with it from you, too.”

“I – thank you, for this,” Logan says, “It seems I needed some sense talked into me.” Janus nods in agreement, ever one for drama.

“Oh, you most certainly did. But I’m happy to have obliged,” he says, “After all, someone has to look out for Remus.”

Logan can’t help but admire the friendship that Janus and Remus share. He hadn’t realized it was so strong until now, and he certainly hadn’t expected the likes of Janus to be the one to set him on the right path, and yet here he is.

“I’m frightened,” Logan admits, his voice achingly soft, “I’ve already made such a mess of things…”

“That doesn’t mean that they can’t be fixed,” Janus points out, “I trust you’ll be able to work things out just fine. A little misunderstanding doesn’t mean the end of things, and to think as much would be blowing things way out of proportions, I’m sure you realize.”

“Right,” Logan says, the thought of he and Remus no longer having any kind of a relationship disappearing from his mind, “You’re right.” “As much as I love being told I’m right,” Janus says, not skipping out on the sass, “I do believe you’ve got a conversation to attend to.” Logan worries his bottom lip, wringing his hands.

“Yes… I suppose I do. Has… has anyone been with Remus, in the time we’ve been talking?” The idea of Remus being alone now is suddenly very unappealing.

“Yes, Patton’s been sitting with him. It’s not as though I would leave him alone in such a state.”

Okay, that’s better than he might’ve thought. While Patton and Remus by no means always get along, Patton’s far better at handling issues of emotion than most, and he’s certainly in good hands. Logan stands from his bed, catching sight of himself in the mirror and the mess that he is. For a moment, he considers doing something to fix his appearance before deciding getting to Remus now is a time-sensitive issue.

“Best of luck, Logan,” Janus says, with no ounce of deceit. He really is hoping for the best of outcomes, which Logan is thankful for. He isn’t usually one to believe in luck, but he’s fairly sure he’s going to need it.

=+=

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Writing Commission - Where I Want To Be - Chapter Seven

Summary: Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, is a busy man. He has classes and students to teach English to, an agency that always seemed to be in the middle of a disaster to help deal with, and a radio station that was one bad show away from being cancelled to run. He doesn’t have time for a bad day triggered by nightmares and fears and anxieties that just never seem to stop.

Luckily for him, his partners are Aizawa Shouta and Yagi Toshinori and neither of those two are very good at leaving Hizashi to suffer alone.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia    

Relationship: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 29,323

Transaction Amount: $200 (USD)

WARNINGS FOR: Past childhood abuse (both emotional and physical) and anxiety attacks verging on panic to PTSD episodes. Please read with caution if needed.

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                                        Chapter Index

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The brief hour-long respite Toshinori had blessed Hizashi with had been just enough to keep him from trekking up to the roof of his agency and either jumping or throwing a couple of idiots off, but the hour had ended and Hizashi was once again contemplating either suicide or murder. He was leaning towards murder since no one would really fault him and, plus, Shouta and Toshinori would even be proud of him for picking that option out of the two! 

“Alright. Explain this to me again.” Because Hizashi, despite what people thought, could be patient and understanding. Even on his bad days he did his best to keep his own emotions in check and hear out the people he worked with when a problem occurred. “How did you end up setting one of the lower labs on fire?” 

Two support engineers, one support intern, and the director of the lab in question all exchanged looks with one another. The director clutched his clipboard as if he were about to break it in half due to fear and stress before he cleared his throat, “Well, sir, it’s actually a rather intriguing scientific act that caused the… commotion.” 

Hizashi resisted the urge to faceplant on his desk and instead cursed everyone in his agency for leaving him to deal with this mess. Typically, in cases like lab destruction, it would be dealt with by someone who actually worked in the support labs. The problem with that, however, was that that person was out sick and that left Hizashi, who understood how the support labs and the items inside worked, to deal with the problem.

Hizashi should have taken the day off sick, too. He should have just finished at school and then gone straight home, but no. He had to be stubborn and noble and care about his job. He was regretting his choices in life more and more with each passing second.

“Present Mic, sir.” The intern, a sweet little thing that looked equal parts nervous and excited with hair sticking up in all directions, gave an encouraging grin. “We actually managed to contain the fire to 67% of the lab, as well as keep all volatile projects safe and discover a quicker-burning fuel that gives a more intense burn for Wildfire. With a bit more tweaking, I have no doubt we could have a fuel that would burn through all three layers of skin, barring any quirk changes or effects, within 2.7 seconds!” 

Quiet for a long moment, Hizashi looked up at the lab director, who gave a weak, nervous smile before opening his mouth. He then must have realized that nothing he could say would help the situation because he then closed his mouth and gave an apologetic smile. Hizashi felt his headache, which had been coming in and out all day, give a throb of pain. 

“Alright. You,” Hizashi pointed to the director. “Write up a report of this and send it to whoever is in charge of your lab this week -- not me. Include the fact that not everything was destroyed and you’ve discovered something to better help Wildfire. That’ll take some of the heat off of you.” The only one to appreciate his joke with the intern, who gave a snort of startled laughter. 

“You two.” Hizashi pointed at the engineers, who straightened up nervously. “See what the damage was to everything and draw up a plan to deal with it. Don’t worry too much about cost right now but do what you can to minimize any losses. Try to reuse any supplies that didn’t end up too bad off in the fire, too. And you.” 

Hizashi stared at the intern, who gave him a cheerful, happy little grin. The kid was one of their only first-year interns who had been brought in as a special case and Hizashi could feel himself waver at the bright enthusiasm. Well, no one had said he was strong, really. “Excellent work today, but I want you to write up a one-page essay on fire and lab safety and hand it in to the lab director by your next workday. I also want you to send all the data you collected today to my email with everything you learned.” 

While he didn’t need the data, it would be interesting to see those numbers. Typically a fire that burned that hot and that fast only came about through quirks, so it would be interesting to see how far they could push the effectiveness of it. If they did a good enough job then they could have some support equipment that was on par with some of the quirks that came out of Endeavor’s agency, and it was always nice to knock him down a peg or two.

“Yes sir, Present Mic sir! I’ll even be sure to write two pages about the lab and fire safety!” The intern was out of the room like a shot, Hizashi feeling a twitch of a smile before one of the engineers cleared his throat. 

“Um, sir?” Oh. Oh, Hizashi did not like that tone. “One of the projects that was, uh, compromised today was meant to be Sonic Whip’s.” Ah. Right. Sonic Whip. One of the most terrifying women that Hizashi had ever had the displeasure to meet and who had a temper shorter than a deranged villain’s. “It was of a rather sensitive nature and… She’s expecting the first prototype tomorrow.” 

Hizashi resisted the urge to climb out his office window and escape, instead sucking in a calming breath and grabbing his phone before heading towards the door, “I just remembered I have a meeting.” It was a very important meeting, too; one with his face and a brick wall in the half-forgotten hidden lounge on the bottom floor of the agency.

Thankfully, Hizashi had long since mastered the art of looking like he was on his way to an important meeting, which meant no one tried to stop him as he marched himself through the agency and threw himself down on the first couch he saw in the empty lounge. It was dark, from no one having repaired the lights in a while, it was quiet, where it was tucked away into a back corner with thick walls, and it was always empty where everyone forgot to refill the fridge. It was heaven. 

At least, it was heaven until he heard someone collapse on the couch across from him, the sound of a grunt barely being finished before it turned into a surprised, “Yamada! I wouldn’t have thought you were in here with how quiet it was!” Oh, god, it was the only other person in the agency who could be as loud and cheerful as him. This was punishment. It had to be.

Inching his gaze to the side, Hizashi mourned the peace and quiet he had gotten for only a few short minutes as he looked at Shima Hikari, the hero known as Radiant; a light-quirk user that was no doubt going to make his light sensitivity even worse if she felt even the slightest uptick in excitement. She was looking far too cheerful considering her, and the sidekick Hizashi hadn’t even heard at first, looked like they were a few seconds away from hitting the ground in a puddle of exhaustion. 

Taking a moment to weigh the options between responding and ignoring her, Hizashi finally let out a sigh with a quiet, “Alright, you two?” 

“Peachy keen!” Shima chirped, crossing her legs and then looking over to her sidekick, who had her own legs thrown over one end of the couch and her head resting near Shima’s thigh. Poor kid looked exhausted and Hizashi took a moment to be grateful his own sidekick days were over. Sometimes, even if he truly hated to admit it, he’d rather take the paperwork over dealing with stupid villains and angry cops. “Isn’t that right, Stardust?” The kid gave a pathetic groan that sounded half exhausted and half pained. “That’s the spirit!”

“I think you’ve killed your sidekick,” Hizashi snorted, pushing himself up and biting the inside of his cheek to stop a groan at the throb in his head. “We’re supposed to be careful with those, you know. We only have a limited supply of them.”

Shima huffed, placing a hand against her chest, “Excuse you, I take the utmost care of my sidekicks, thank you very much. At least I don’t load them full of caffeine and sugar and energy drinks and hope they don’t die of exhaustion before the end of a patrol like you do.”

“And yet they love me anyways,” Hizashi snickered, readjusting himself against the couch as he flicked his eyes over the two again. They were both covered with dust and rubble, scratches across all visible parts of their skin. Stardust had one of her ankles tightly wrapped, and Shima had a bandage around her head, but neither of them looked too bad off. “Interesting patrol, then?” 

“Started with chasing a purse thief and then he led us all the way to a drug den where a deal was going on between some pretty important figures,” Shima snorted, pulling out her phone and starting to type on it at once. Hizashi couldn’t really blame her since his phone, and Shouta and Toshinori, were the only reasons he was no doubt still sane. “Seriously, though. You’re quiet as shit. What happened? Another lab blew up while you were stuck on report duty?” 

“Fire, actually,” Hizashi responded, watching with amusement as Shima’s head snapped up, eyes narrowed and studying him. They then widened with sympathy. Even Stardust, half-asleep as she was, made a noise that sounded sympathetic.

“Oh, fuck, I thought I was just joking.” Yeah, that’s what made it even worse, really. “Everyone alright? Any injuries?”

“No injuries, thankfully.” Hizashi collapsed back on the couch, groaning at the flash of pain in his back. “It’s not the worst lab disaster we’ve ever had but add that on top of everything else that’s been happening, and it’s been a long day.” Plus, his sensory overload, flashes of memory, and trauma were all acting up to make the day try and kill him once and for all. 

“We told you, right back at the beginning, to not take that job at U.A.,” Shima lectured, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “You already had a full-time job here and with that radio station of yours, and what did you do?” 

“I took the job at U.A.,” Hizashi mumbled, wincing as Shima repeated the words even louder. She truly was his punishment in life.

“You took the job at U.A.! Being a teacher is a lifestyle and you’re doing that with two other jobs! Which are also lifestyles!” Shima made a very dismissive tsking noise, Hizashi cracking an eye open to glare at her. “What? I’m right and you know it. Right, Stardust?” 

The kid cracked her eyes open, blearily staring between the two of them before looking back to Shima, “Sorry, Shima-san, but I refuse to take sides in an argument with pro-heroes when all three of us work in the same agency.”

Hizashi snorted, the serious tone of voice lifting his mood for a few moments, “Smart kid, Shima. She’s gonna be better than you one day.” 

Shima scoffed, beaming and radiating pride as she turned back to her phone, “Yeah, yeah. Oh, you might wanna go get your stuff and get ready to leave, by the way.” 

“What?” Why would he leave? Hizashi still had another two hours of his shift at the agency before he had to head over to the radio station. “Why would I-?”

A loud ping from his phone had Hizashi frowning before he was looking down at it, seeing an incoming message from one of the higher ups. It only took a quick scan of the message to see that he was, not-so-politely, being told that he was done for the day, already clocked out, and that his husband was on his way to pick him up so he could ‘get some goddamn rest.’ Shima gave a proud, beaming grin when Hizashi looked up at her. “You’re welcome!”

“I hate you?” Hizashi looked from her to his phone, feeling a shock of warmth at how much the people in his life cared for him. The fact he was already clocked out meant he legally couldn’t even try to get back on his computer and do anymore work for the day without getting into legal trouble. He was legally being told to get out and go get some rest. “Why are you so mean to me?” Which meant once he finished at the radio station he could go home and cuddle up with Shouta and Toshinori and let their warmth and safety drown out everything else.

“Aw, I see you as a friend, too,” Shima cooed, voice softer and quieter. When Hizashi glanced over, he saw she was petting at her sidekick’s head, the girl halfway to being asleep as she breathed softly. “Seriously, though, Yamada. I know what a rough day looks like, so just… take care of yourself, yeah?”

“Fuck,” Hizashi breathed out softly, pulling himself up with a groan. “I’m going to have to actually get you something decent for Christmas, aren’t I?” The ugly snort of laughter had Hizashi managing a larger smile as he shook his head. “Make sure to get some rest yourself, Shima.” 

“Just as long as you do, Yamada,” she winked, shooing him out so she could coddle her sidekick even more than she already did. Honestly, Hizashi was waiting for Shima to come in with adoption papers with how she was about that kid. 

It wasn’t until Hizashi was halfway to his office that his phone dinged again, this time a message from Shouta with a laughing emoji and a simple, ‘Got kicked out huh?’

‘I was politely told to get the fuck out and get some goddamn rest before I had a heart attack and would need to be replaced,’ Hizashi texted back, trying not to snort as Shouta sent a row of more laughing emojis. It was hilarious that everyone assumed Hizashi was the emoji abuser when Shouta’s texts typically contained an emoji with each line or sentence. ‘You don’t have to come get me.’

‘Too late. Already omw.’ Which meant Shouta had probably left to come and check on him just like Toshinori had even before he had been texted by Hizashi’s agency. ‘Get your things before they lock you out of your office workaholic.’

‘You have no rights to call me that considering your own work ethic.’ Hizashi sent a little emoji of his own before tucking his phone away and heading to get his things. Considering the type of people he worked with, he truly wouldn’t be surprised if they kicked him out before he could so much as grab his bag. They wouldn’t even feel bad about it, they would just laugh at him.

Thankfully, it didn’t take him long to gather the files he needed and head back down towards the lobby, everyone soundly ignoring him. It wasn’t the first time an agency wide message had been sent out to warn people that Hizashi was getting kicked out and, knowing him and his co-workers, it wouldn’t be the last. Hizashi hated and loved every last one of them. 

Hizashi was on the sidewalk when a pair of footsteps fell into step with his own, Hizashi feeling something in him soften and relax at Shouta’s quiet laugh, “Radiant was the one to kick you out, huh? How’d that feel?”

“Like the universe was throwing everything I’ve ever done back in my face,” Hizashi snorted, smiling when Shouta’s shoulder brushed against his own. “I could have finished my shift, you know. It’s not a patrol day.” 

“You could have,” Shouta agreed, looking at him with that look of his that was far too understanding. “But you don’t have to. You’re the one always yelling at me about teamwork and cooperation with others, after all, aren’t you?” 

“That’s because you try to take on two dozen human traffickers without any backup.” That had been far too nerve wracking of a night, in Hizashi’s opinion. Nemuri, at least, had shared in his suffering when Shouta had ended laid up in the hospital with a concussion and a broken wrist.

“Mm, you all were running late.” Ass, Hizashi thought to himself fondly. “I’d ask if we were going home, but…”

“Radio station,” Hizashi finished, closing his eyes for a moment. As much as he craved going home and finally resting, he still had work to do. He wouldn’t let a bad day ruin all the work he and everyone else he worked with at the station had been doing. Besides, it wasn’t a recording or live day, so there was at least that much. 

“You’re lucky you don’t need to record today,” Shouta snorted, reading Hizashi’s mind as he always did. “Alright. Let’s go, then.” Hizashi half-wanted to argue that Shouta didn’t need to come with him, but he knew it was a fight he wouldn’t win. 

Hizashi took a breath anyways, getting ready to gather up the energy he would need to ask about Toshinori, and dinner, and how the students were after Shouta had checked on the dorm. Stupidly, though, Hizashi forgot that he was talking to Shouta.

He hadn’t even gotten a word out before Shouta was talking again, firm enough to be heard, but soft enough to make it easy on his headache, “Toshinori made it home alright, by the way. He also started digging up American Sign Language books, but I decided I didn’t even want to ask since I knew I’d hear about it from you later. He’s also starting dinner. For a man who doesn’t eat food typically, he’s a better cook than I would have thought. 

“Oh, and I think the kid is gonna kill all the troublemakers in 1-A if they keep trying to kidnap him like they have been,” Shouta continued, Hizashi feeling tension drain out of him as he listened to the man’s voice. “They actually had him trapped in the dorms when I went to check on everything before Nemuri took over watch. He was taped to the chair and making at least two of them do handstands.”

Shouta didn’t stop for a moment, talking softly and damn near rambling as his steps kept time with Hizashi’s, not expecting him to say a single word back in response. It was a routine that was years old and familiar enough that Hizashi could let himself get lost in the words as Shouta led them along to where they needed to go. 

His eyes slipped shut for a moment, the phantom feeling of pressure around his throat and leather cutting into his skin damn near gone. He was still exhausted, and stretched thin, and felt like too much at once would put him right back where he had been, but… 

The day was almost over and he had Shouta by his side. As far as he was concerned, he would be just fine for a few more hours.

[a-walkingoxymoron]

Stay

Genre: Angsty with a fluff ending

Word count: 2.4k 

 A/N: I rise from the dead to post something for our boy Bammie. This was obviously rushed and unedited lmao. Hope you enjoy still!! Happy Birthday Bambam! 

You thought you were over him. 

No, scratch that.

You were sure you were over him. You haven't thought of him for months, the simplest of things didn't remind you of him anymore, you could do and try things that didn't make you think 'he'd surely like this' before becoming despondent for the remainder of the day. 

You were over him. Supposed to be over him.

And yet, here you were, laying on your bed and staring at the ceiling as you felt the familiar sting of tears forming behind your eyes as everything came crashing down on you. 

You missed him, every fiber of your being missed him. His cheeky grin, his jokes, how he never passes an opportunity to make a double entendre should the chance arise, his harmless pranks, his eyes that bore his sole, his mood swings - god you can have all day and you still wouldn't be able to finish listing out what you miss about him. Because you miss every fucking thing about him.

Your depressing line of thoughts were disrupted by the vibration of your phone, notifying you of a text message. The very same phone who's at fault as to why you're having a breakdown literally a minute just after you woke up.

…Maybe that wasn't fair to say to an inanimate object. After all, it was ultimately your fault for forgetting to delete it.

Still, looking at your phone to check if you woke up too late only to see the words 'Bambam's birthday!!! ♡' on your notification wasn't exactly the wake up call you wanted to have.

Not when you two were over.

Choosing to ignore it, you turned off your phone, pushing it aside. It was probably from work - you'll handle it later. You'll just call in sick. Might as well since you felt sick. How can someone who you haven't seen in 8 whole months still have this kind of effect on you? 

You closed your eyes, a tear or two slipping down as you forced yourself back to sleep. Maybe you'd feel better after, maybe the emotions wouldn't be as raw as it felt now and would be easier to manage with later. But most of all you just want to stop feeling for a moment.

♤♡◇♧

It was noon by the time you woke up. While how you felt didn't improve like you hope it would, you did finally begrudgingly accept that perhaps you still have lingering feelings for your ex. For Bambam. 

Your body felt heavy and sluggish as you hauled your ass off of bed, hoping you'd be able to do something productive while at home - it was the most you can make yourself do for missing a work day because of something so painfully pathetic.

The first thing you did was to inform and apologize to your office for missing work out of the blue, claiming it was because of a rather nasty case of stomach flu since you figured they wouldn't appreciate it if you told them it was because you suddenly missed your ex.

Next was to make a decent meal for yourself. Or maybe just order take out. Anything as long as you feed yourself.

Then… then everything was a blur after. 

For some masochistic reason, you ordered Tom Yum Goong, Bambam's favourite food. You weren't quite sure what had come over you when you did.

Maybe it was an act of defiance - denial that you didn't miss him as much as you felt. Maybe you really were craving Thai food.

Whatever it was, it just made your state worse. It was when the blur started.

You ate the food in silence, punctuated only by sniffs either from bursting out randomly into tears or because of the spiciness of what you were consuming. Then came the junk food and binging of romantic dramas, tears streaming on and off in random intervals as you went through your whole pantry of guilty pleasures in order to bury the thoughts about Bambam. Thoughts of him that attempted to penetrate your mind over and over, relentless like a storm.

Next thing you knew it was 6pm, your life felt like it had spiraled out of control in the mere span of hours, you didn't even do anything remotely productive like you hoped you would apart from constantly re-hydrating yourself - no thanks to the tears that won't stop spilling for good. You have resigned yourself to grief, not bothering anymore. Everyone breaks down once in a while, you told yourself. It's just one of those days.

But tomorrow… tomorrow, you'll be better. 

Knock knock.

You paused your show and whipped your head back to the direction of your door which was to the right of the couch you're curled up on. 

There was a tap, wasn't there? Someone knocked, right? It was the sound knuckles rapping softly on your door, soft enough that the noise of the television almost drowned it but you heard it. Or had you been imagining things? 

You counted a whole five seconds before your impatience got the best of you. Apprehensive as you were, the door tugged at you - calling you to open it. Ridiculous at it seemed, you know you'd come to regret it if you don't act upon it. Before you can stop yourself, your body moves on it's own, approaching the door. Another wave of hesitation crashed on you but you ignored it, reaching for the doorknob. Inhaling a deep breath to ready yourself, you swung the door open before you lost courage altogether. 

There, behind the door, stood the person that has been entering your thoughts without permission. The person who was to be blamed on why you wasted an entire day crying on and off like a deranged person. It was a miracle you didn’t break down in tears right then and there. The world couldn’t be that cruel, right? Either it was or you were hallucinating big time.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him, memories flooding back with intensity that was tenfold of what you’ve been going through the whole day. Flashbacks of the past that were filled with happiness if not bittersweet ones - memories that made you wonder what happened to you two. Why weren’t you together anymore? You can’t even remember what you two last fought about that became the undoing of your relationship. There were shouting and crying, that much you recall, but what had sparked it eluded you like you were the plague.

Eyes wide, jaw agape, you stared at him. Bambam looked just as surprised to see you as he mirrored your expression. Bambam who donned his usual fashionable clothes but lacked the confidence he so often exuded. No, he looked dejected and unsure by your doorstep, falling in a silent stupor from seeing you. He didn’t seem drunk but his eyes were wild, anxious - attempting to look at anywhere but you yet failing miserably.

It was he who first broke the heavy, awkward, shock-shelled silence that engulfed you both with a voice that was hoarse and a timorous tone that didn’t fit his image.

“Y-you weren’t supposed to be here.” It was evident that it took a herculean effort to utter those words.

Your astonishment was replaced with perplexity at his words, brows furrowing in an unsure frown. Why did he seem so surprised at seeing you in your apartment? 

“Where would I be?” You asked, inwardly surprised that your voice sounded steady and whole. 

Bambam ran a hand through his hair in exasperation that wasn’t quite directed at her but more at himself, effectively giving him an unkempt hairstyle that undeniably looked good on him. “No I mean - you shouldn’t be home from work yet, usually. Right? I mean back then -” His babbling seized when he got a proper look at you. You in all of your disheveled, tear streaked face glory.

His gaze softens with worry then, making a tentative step toward you. “What happened? What’s wrong?” His voice was almost like a whisper - low, soothing and hypnotizing that it made you want to run back to his arms and bury yourself against his chest like you often did when you were still together.

Still you stayed strong, ignoring his queries as you shot him back with your own question. “Why are you here, Bam?” You shuddered at how foreign his name now sounded from your lips.

Reluctance flooded Bambam’s features again, unsure how to answer. You decide to press more when he still didn’t respond after a minute. “It’s your birthday. Shouldn’t you be out with the boys?”

 “I am - I mean, I was. But - “ He paused again in a way that was slowly grating your patience. 

“But what?” You encourage, trying hard not to sound irate. Bambam bit down on his full lower lip in thought, weighing out his options on how to proceed. Then, he locked gazes with you, resignation crossing his features before a wistful smile graced his lips.

“But I miss you.”

You froze. He what?

Now that he admitted it outloud, the action opened a floodgate of confession that was just itching to spill given the right amount of push.

“I miss you everyday but today was the worst. I went out with the boys, like usual. It was great, they had this whole party for me but you weren’t there.” A laugh escaped his lips but there wasn’t any humor behind it. “I can’t believe my birthday was the one that made me realize just how much I miss you. Not Christmas, not New years, not even Valentines.”

Then he looked at you with so much earnestness that you almost forgot how to breathe. But it was what he said next that dealt the final blow.

“Why aren’t we together again? Why did we break up, love? I thought we were happy?” His eyes turned dewy, making yours water as well in response. 

“We were,” You breathed out. “We were happy.”

“Then why? I can’t even remember what we fought about.” There was a tinge of guilt in his voice but that didn’t matter because you couldn’t either. The topic of the argument was apparently so trivial that both of you couldn’t even recall. But you did remember what transpired just minutes before the argument ended. Through hot tears you remember his panicked and pained expression as you screamed in frustration at him - that you didn’t want to see him - before walking out indefinitely from his apartment where you once stayed. And -

“You didn’t chase me.” You whispered finally, choking out the words as you tried to fight down the sobs you felt coming. “You didn’t ask me to stay.”

Bambam looked at you, eyes wide and confused. “What?”

“You didn’t chase me -” You repeated, “I walked out and you didn’t chase me or tried contacting me after.” You could feel your voice cracking as you go but you pressed on, determined. If this would be the last time you can talk to him before you went on with separate paths again then you might as well say everything you had to say.

“I mean, I know I told you that I didn’t want to see you again and honestly I couldn’t find any courage to face you again after that.” Tears were now streaming down your cheeks for the umpteenth time of the day and you did little to wipe it away, wanting to get this over with. “So when I also didn’t hear from you, I figured you were done with me. I don’t blame you - I mean, how could I when I was the one who -” 

You stopped when you heard footsteps incoming from the stairs of the building. It seemed Bambam heard it too and ushered you inside, entering as well, before closing the door behind him. He then turned to you, his eyes full of understanding. 

He cupped your cheeks and gently wiped your tears away, “Oh no. Baby, no, I wasn’t done with you. I thought you were done with me."

You leaned into his touch, unable to pull away. "I know, I'm sorry Bammie." It was pathetic to think how your break up was ultimately because of a misunderstanding because of your outburst. But it was and you can't take it back anymore.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." You mumbled continuously like a mantra. Bambam shushed you, pulling you finally into his embrace, rubbing comforting circles on you back as he held you close while your body writhed with sobs you couldn't contain anymore.

You two stayed in the position for a few minutes, enjoying it more than you cared to admit before he finally pulled away much to your dismay. 

Bambam straightened your hair a little before placing both of his hands on either shoulder, looking you in the eye. "Is it too late?" 

You blinked owlishly, confused. "Too late for what?"

"To ask you to stay. Will you refuse if I ask you now?" You opened your lips to protest, to ask if he was joking. But the sincere look in his eyes washed any doubts that threatened to bubble. 

You've fantasized about this for the first few days you walked out, and now, 8 months later, he's finally here asking you. You already let him out of your grasp the first time - you weren't going to make the same mistake again.

"Are you sure?" You managed to ask, not wanting to seem eager and accept immediately.

A chuckle. A chuckle that you had missed so much it warmed you. "Are you kidding? Of course I'm sure."

"Really?"

"Really, really."

"Are you?"

He whined, pouting. "I'm sure, babe! Would I be here if I weren't? I already planned to ask you back even if you didn't tell me all of that."

You purse your lips as if thinking about it before nodding. "All right."

A wide grin graced his handsome face before going down in one knee as if proposing. "Then, will you please do me the honor of moving in again with me and staying this time?” 

You mirrored his grin, pulling him up as you nodded. “Yes!”

Bambam leaned in to kiss you, pressing his lips softly against yours like he did so many times before. His arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you closer to him. “I love you.” He mumbled against your lips before pulling away with a grin.

“I love you, too.” You told him as you hooked your arms around his neck, a goofy smile on your lips. “Happy birthday, Bammie. I’m sorry I don’t have a present.”

He scoffed. “You’re the best present there is, babe.”

[staticscreenwriting]

To the stars beyond the blue - one

Summary: Kathleen Sawyer has a problem with authority and people telling her what to do, especially if “people” is her Stepdad Dave. Having had enough of her attitude, Dave and her mom decide it’s time for her to leave behind the temptations of New York City and learn some responsibility while staying with her aunt Susan in small, sleepy Hawkins, Indiana. Though what neither of them know, is that the biggest temptation is waiting for her right there and it comes with a mullet and a killer smile.

This is gonna be an 18+ series. I’m planning to add quite a bit of smut, swearing and topics that could potentially be triggering to some people (domestic abuse - physical and emotional). The abuse will not be romanticized, I promise you that. Just be aware that these themes will be mentioned and explored. 

next chapter >>

Chapter one - meet Kathleen

Ron’s Deli smells like old grease and cigarette smoke and the fluorescent lights send a loud buzzing noise through the entire place. There’s an assortment of sandwiches displayed, though I know better than to order any of them. Coffee, that’s what I’m here for. Coffee and warmth.

My boots, still wet from the snow covering the streets outside, make a squeaking sound against the linoleum floor that alerts Ruby who’s slumped over the counter, flicking through some kind of fashion magazine. 

“ Haven’t seen you in a while “ she murmures, eyes focusing back on the magazine, making no attempt to actually take my order. 

“ Some of us actually work, you know “ I reply. That’s not even close to the truth and Ruby knows this just as well as I do. But neither of us acknowledges it because that’s not the relationship we have. I don’t want to talk about it and she doesn’t care. So we settle for superficial quips. 

“ Bite me, Kathleen. “ 

“ Nah thanks, you know my rules. No food at Ron’s. Just coffee “ 

“ Just coffee “ she repeats then turns around and grabs the pot and pours me a big mug of steaming hot coffee.

“ Thanks. Put it on my tab. “ 

She always nods but never actually does. I don’t think I’ve paid for my coffee in years.

I drag myself towards my booth in the furthest corner of the place. I call it my booth but if we’re being overly correct I have to mention that I do, in fact, not have ownership of this particular booth. It’s just the one I always find myself in. Have done so for years.

The tv mounted up in the corner is playing some black and white christmas movie. The volume is too low to hear anything being said but I can tell the movie after a few seconds. Miracle on 34th street. I remember watching it with my dad when I was a kid. He was always big about old black and white movies. 

I never told him but I don’t really like it. There’s a thing about Christmas movies where even though most of them have happy endings, a lot of them always make you feel miserable for a huge amount of the runtime. It’s like “look at this sad person ON CHRISTMAS. Then remember how lucky you are. Because you too could be sad. ON CHRISTMAS “.

It’s very preachy and if I’m being honest, I don’t see the appeal of movies that purposely make me sad. 

Back then I wasn’t really aware of what it feels like to be sad on Christmas. I do now. It’s like they describe it in the movies only 10 times worse. Because there’s no happy ending waiting for you after 120 minutes. It just goes on and leads to a sad new years and a sad spring and a sad summer.

“ Oh, Christmas isn't just a day, it's a frame of mind...  “ oh fuck right of, Kris you absolute bullshitter.

The bell above the door pulls me from my Christmas blues and I watch a couple stumble into the shop. They’re smiling, holding hands. The dude can’t seem to keep his lips of her neck. She walks up to the counter. I can only imagine Ruby’s annoyed sigh and the roll of her eyes.

“ Hi, two turkey delis please “ the girl says between giggles. I feel kinda bad for her. She must be a tourist. Locals know not to eat at Ron’s. Only coffee. Iced tea in the summer. That’s it.

Ruby grumbles something to them before they settle down in the booth across from me. Well there goes me sulking in silence. I try to ignore their loved up giggles as the warm coffee makes its way down my throat. I really try not to pay them any attention. But once I notice his hand squeezing her boobs, that’s enough to make even me uncomfortable.

I take one last sip then scoot out of the boot hand walk towards Ruby. She’s resorted from flipping through the magazine to using the magazine as a underlay while she paints her nails right there on the counter. Another reason not to eat here. 

“ So what do you say, do I suit this color ? “ She asks and holds a hand out for me to see. She always paints them red, every single time. Apparently they’re all different shades though so far I’ve been unable to see even the slightest difference.

“ Sure. “ 

“ Thanks for the enthusiasm.” 

“ You’re welcome. Anyway, I’m going to head out. Thanks for the coffee. “

Ruby looks up again then throws a disapproving look at the couple that is pretty much dry humping each other at this point “ did the lovebirds scare you off ? Disgusting. “ 

“ Let them be, they’re in love. “ 

She scoffs at that then goes back to her nails “ of course you’d think that. You’re just as bad. “ 

“ What does that mean ? “ 

“ Means I’ve seen you at parties. With guys. It’s uh — quite something really. “ 

“ Ah shut up, Ruby. “ I say and roll my eyes. It’s none of her business really. Though I know it doesn’t come from a place of malice, her words still rub me the wrong way. I have to remind myself that she’s just bitter. She should be married right now, living with her husband in some cute little house in Jersey, popping a few kids and living the suburban dream. Instead he fucked her sister at the rehearsal dinner and she’s left alone, bitter, sad and working at a really shitty deli.

“ Just sayin’ “ 

“ Mmh. Anyway tell your dad I said hi and to call me if he ever feels lonely. “ 

“ You’re vile. “ 

I only smile at that, pull my jacket closer around my body and step into the cold december air.

New York City is always busy. Always. People crowd the streets like ants on a popsicle forgotten on the lawn in a hot summer’s day. Though around christmas time, it feels like twice as many people flock to the city to catch a glimpse of what the perceived to be the ultimate manifestation of christmas magic.

The truth is, it’s cold and loud and crowded and if anything, it’s a perfect reminder just how materialistic we humans really are. If there’s anything to advertise, you’ll get it advertised here. They try to appeal to your innermost romantic. That girl that believes diamonds and flowers are a sign of true love. That kid that still holds faith in santa and miracles.

It makes me a little sick as I pass store after store, bustling with holiday shoppers. 

The further I walk the colder it gets. I tug my beanie further down my head, trying to keep my ears warm as I hop down the steps of the subway station. There’s an older man playing the violin while wearing a santa hat. I toss him a quarter and he gives me a smile and I feel like I’ve just earned a few karma points. Shiny gates, I’m coming for you.

It’s early december and New York is fucking freezing. It’s an all consuming kind of cold. The one you feel seeping through your body all the way to your bones. I wish I could say it goes away once I’m home and snuggled up in my bed. It doesn’t. It’s the kind of cold that stays with you. 

There’s a man eying me as I step on the train, he’s got bushy unkempt eyebrows and a mean mustache. His tongue licks at his bottom lip every few seconds. Like a deranged snake or something, only way creepier. I try to avoid eye contact. Eye contact it seems only works as a silent invitation to guys like him. 

From the corner of my eye I take notice of all his moves though. One has to be prepared always. I grab a hold of my keyes, let them stick out between my knuckles. I don’t know if he notices. I hope he does.

When the train pulls up at my stop, my heart speeds up a little. A silent mantra echoes through my head “please don’t get up. Please don’t get up.” It’s one thing being tough and brave when you’re in a train with many other people. It’s a whole different story when you’re passing through dark, deserted alleyways on your way home.

The trains stops and I wipe my sweaty hand on my jeans. He eyes me again as I step up to the doors. I’m still avoiding eye contact but at this point I can tell that he can tell. I can just about make out as his lips pull into a smirk. There’s nothing amusing about this situation, not to me at least. To think that he finds joy in this makes me physically sick.

The doors open and I step outside, a gust of cold wind hitting my face. I turn around and the doors close behind me and, to my delight, I can see him sitting in the same spot, looking at me through the dirty window of the train. He winks as the train pulls away and I can feel my lunch making its way up my throat again.

I can hear them yelling as I unlock the door. Dave’s voice thunders through the place, spewing expletives and hatred. 

“ Jesus Christ, Joan. What is wrong with you? Spending money on shit we don’t need but the one thing, the one thing I asked you to buy, you forget ? Are you really that fucking dumb ? “

My blood starts boiling though I know better than to step in. It only makes it worse.

Mom says sorry. So many times. Too many times. Her voice is timid and small and I hate that this is what he turns her into. When I was little mom was strong and brave and happy. She was creative and fun and adventurous. Now she’s but a shell of herself. An obedient little housewife who settles for a man that treats her like absolute dirt.

They look up at me as I enter the kitchen room and I can see fear in my mom’s eyes. I think that’s the worst thing. To see your mom scared. No kid should have to see their mom this scared. I wish I didn’t. 

“ Hi. “ 

“ Look who’s finally decided to show up. Where’ve you been ? “ Dave scoffs. He thinks just because my mom spreads her legs for him, he gets any say in what I do. Truth is, he doesn’t give a fuck what I do, he’s just a sucker for control. It’s like his ultimate wet dream, to have us do exactly how he says and behave just the way he asks us to. 

“ Out. “ 

“ Out where ? “

“ None of your business. “ 

“ Kathleen “ mom scolds me. I know she has this fantasy of us three living like a perfect family, all happy and joyful. Smiling at each other as we sit around the dinner table talking about our days before we settle on the couch to watch Happy Days.

That’s not reality though. Reality looks pretty bleak right now. Reality is absolute bullshit.

“ I was at the library, okay ? “ 

“ With a boy ? “ 

“ No, what the fuck are you on about. “ 

“ I know the kind of girl you are, Kat. I know girls like you. “ 

Girls like me. 

Dude doesn’t know shit.

“ Sluts “ he spits out. I know he does it to rile me up. He’s just waiting for me to make a mistake so he can put me in my place and assert his dominance. God, he’s such an asshole.

“ Dave ! Don’t call her th— “ mom doesn’t get to finish the sentence before he smacks her across the face, a loud slapping noise echoing through the room. It never gets easier. Watching him hit her. Watching her excuse his actions. Watching them continue as normal.

“ I told you, to shut up, Joan. You know what happened with the boy. The man.“ 

I lock eyes with her, begging her to say something. Do something. End this misery. She has the power to do so. This is our apartment. Out food. Our money. She has all the power in the world and yet, when she averts her eyes, I know it means nothing. 

Dave looks at me again then flops down on the couch, resting his feet on the couch table and clutching a beer in his meaty slob of a hand.

“ Ma, “ I approach her, wanting to comfort her. This is my mother and despite her flaws and issues, I love her. Sometimes I wonder if she returns the sentiment. 

“ I’m okay. “ 

“ But you’re not!” 

“ I said, I am okay. “ the look in her eyes gives me no room to argue. This conversation is over. This topic is over. For now. 

Because those things are never really over, are they ? 

I take a can of coke from the fridge then sit down on the bench by the window. The snow is softly falling outside and if I didn’t despise the cold so much, I’d even call it pretty. It’s a huge contrast to how things are inside right now. Snow falls slowly, piecefully. My mind is chaos, loud and crowded like Times Square on New Years. 

I try to focus on my book and not on Dave who belches after every gulp of beer or my mom who’s perched on the corner of the couch, close enough for him to feel validated and yet far enough for her own comfort. I hate that this place doesn’t feel like a home anymore. It feels like a prison. Like a cage.

That annoying coke commercial comes on tv and I remember a christmas, many years ago. Dad sits in the recliner, we’re in our old apartment and it’s warm inside. The snow falls softly and the place smells like nutmeg and cinnamon. Mom is happily singing along to the commercial and dad’s placing a kiss on her head and it’s not a very important memory but it means so much to me. Because those christmases were good. 

My eyes wander towards the shelf by the door, the one that holds a lot of things. Those kind of things you don’t know where else to put. There’s a bowl you’re supposed to put keys in, none of us ever do, and a sculpture I made in 4th grade art class. There’s random books and records and a cassette deck that doesn’t work anymore. 

I look the shelf up and down, searching for the one thing in there that means something. The one thing I deliberately placed there because I wanted to see it every time I leave the house.

But it’s gone and my heart shatters.

“ Where’s the picture of dad ? “ 

“ Huh ? “ mom looks up at me. I can see it in her eyes. She heard me just right and she knows where it is.

“ The picture of dad on the shelf. Where is it ? “ 

“ It’s time to move on “ Dave chimed in with his throaty, dark voice. He sounds like he constantly has a meatball stuck in his gullet. It’s fucking disgusting. “ He’s been dead for years now. No use in grieving no more. “ 

Use in greiving ? Does he think we chose to be sad ? Does he really think I can just go and decide not to miss my dad anymore ? Not to be sad anymore ? Not to feel like my heart is bursting into a million little pieces whenever something reminds me of my dad ?

“ What did you do ? “ 

“ Put it where it belongs ?  “ 

I can feel the hot red rage burning inside, behind my eyes, in the tips of my fingers. 

“ What does that mean ? “ 

“ He’s gone, Kat. Get over it. I live here now and I don’t wanna be reminded of that fact that your ma had another man before me. It don’t matter no more, you’re my family now !” he bellows, getting off his ass and towering over me like a giant sequoia tree.

This man doesn’t know the first thing about being a family. I don’t know a lot about it either but I know this isn’t it.

“ Fuck you, Dave. Dad belongs here ! We’re his family, mom is his wife. You’re just some asshole she keeps around for god knows what reasons. Just a boyfriend, those come and go “.

He’s awfully silent at that. It’s scarier than the yelling and the mean words. Like he’s taking it all in, waiting, building. It’s gonna come crashing down on me in a minute, I just know it.

The snarl disappears and makes room for a smirk so unsettling, it freezes my blood right there in my veins.

“ Is that so ? Tell her Joan. “ 

“ Tell me what ? “ Oh god. Oh god, no.

“ Dave, this is not the ti— “ 

“ Tell her ! “ he yells and mom flinches then turns to me, eyes never once leaving the carpet.

“ Baby, Dave and I we — we decided it was time to take our relationship to the next level.” 

No. 

No.

No.

“ We’re getting married. “

“ No. “ I say, as if my opinion matters to anyone here. “ Mom, you can’t. You can’t do this. Mom “ 

I beg and I plead and I can feel the tears rising, hardly able to keep them at bay. I feel so small, so helpless.

“ We can and we will ! We’ve also talked about you … “ Dave starts and by the satisfied smirk on his face I can tell whatever he’s about to say, I won’t like it.

“ We had a long discussion about you and your behavior. The skipping school, the parties, the boys. It needs to stop. You need to learn some responsibility. Some respect. “ 

“ Mom. “ I try to meet her eyes, try to get her attention. This can’t be happening. 

“ It’s for the best, baby. “ 

“ What is ? “ 

Dave takes over the conversation again. God I wish he would just disappear. Vanish into nothingness. Where he belongs. “ We think the city is no good place for a young woman to grow up. Too many distractions. Too many temptations. How could you ever become a proper wife growing up in this place. “

“ Are you saying you want to send me away ? “ 

Mom looks up at me finally, and I can see the pain in eyes. And for the first time, I am glad. I hope she’s hurting. I hope it rips her heart out. I hope she feels the same pain she did when dad died. Because this, this is on her. This is a conscious choice she makes. For herself. For me. For our family.

I hope it hurts her because it kills me.

“ I uh — I talked to Susan. You remember her, right ? My half-sister. She uh — she lives in this cute little town in Indiana. Lots of nature. It’s very picturesque she says. They have a house there, she and her husband and the kids. Her step son is your age. I think — I think It’d do you some good. Susan says he’s calmed down his temper since they moved. Maybe it will work for you. “ 

I want to say so much. I want to scream and cry and throw a tantrum but the pain I feel numbs me to my bones. It’s like all energy is sucked right out of me. I’m too exhausted to react. Too exhausted to fight back.

So I do what I do best. I run. Take my keys, my jacket, my bag. And I run out into the night. The snow. The cold.

Whatever is out there isn’t half as harsh as what’s waiting for me in this place.

I know I have to go back eventually but for now I need to get out and save myself from drowning in my own despair. In the picture of a family that is no family at all and the memories of what used to be.

As I walk down the street I pass a park. There’s a concert going on. A choir sings “ Have yourself a merry little christmas”.

I want to throw up. I do throw up, in the bin by the park bench. 

Merry fucking christmas, Kathleen. I’m sure it’ll be a great one.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light From now on your troubles will be out of sight”

Absolute bullshit, my dudes. Absolute bullshit.