#i swear i don’t care i’m not a discussion kind of person

[rowanthestrange]

bless u for thinking there’s structure as to whether i manage to miss a post or not, tungl on ‘mobile web browser’ is a crapshoot

#new friendship level unlocked <3#im not.....entirely sure we've got the same thesis here tho#maybe we do i wouldnt be that surprised if you disagree#but like ive not even formulated my own thesis here properly so im not sure i know it or what you understand of it#/which part of it you disagree with#bc i was........pettyannoyedposting#that word doesnt really work but it's on the pattern of vagueposting#but so first level of my post here was just 'stop calling the doctor neurodivergent especially in canon it annoys me'#second level 'and it misses the point'#third 'and i can prove it' (not convinced i can but)#fourth (getting somewhere into the area of what my actual thesis would be probably) 'the doctor as a character (by design or evolution or#bit of both) is a perpetual other which is an experience that resonates with most people in one way or another#(fun bit of paradoxicality there) and what makes an other is not about (doctor) who/what you are#but rather about what everything around you is. the narratives youre captive in (social identities nationalities racialisation alienisation#what is Normal and how do you respond to it. how do you construct yourself/are you constructed through this response.#and i know what youre thinking now 'dimitri how the fuck did you get here' and also 'you dont know what a thesis statement is'#and you are correct#however how the fuck i got here is autism and its kin (dsm/icd diagnoses) are constructions of (ab)normalcy as heterosexuality and whitenes#and to diagnose the doctor i think doesnt work in a couple of ways#first of which is that a diagnosis i think only means something in the context of treatment#the second of which is that i think it stops what could be an interesting conversation/exploration as a theme in dw#the third of which is that it accepts the authority of the dsm/icd/psychiatrist and the validity of 'neurodivergent' as a concept#which i dont. and now im back to my petty first emotional response. nardole voice: hey we got there#and im missing a lot of aspects of the othering here clearly and also i dont know what im talking about CLEARLY ive never made an essay but#*gestures vaguely* was this the thing you disagreed with? ghkghjgh

Yeah, no, I do get it I think. From this and your previous tags and things, I think so. So here’s my essay i guess. Not a rebuttal just my general take, long, rambly, not exactly structured and best argued cus i’m just killing time til art supplies arrive and my brain wants to do that instead. Feel free to skip sections or all of it tbh, I really don’t care about this all that much despite essay length, do not take this as me giving a shit about minor differences in opinion if that’s even what these are. Headings are in bold for easy skippability.

Personal Views (not Dr Who. This was part of my conclusion but fuck it i’m making it the top actually):

I believe in normalising the not-normal, but I don’t think people saying “everyone’s weird and we’re all a bit different :) ” is actually the way to do that. I think that’s the “I don’t see colour” approach. I don’t think it works and I don’t think it particularly helps, neither people on an individual level or the wider society practically.

Love disability. Love neurotypes. Love definitions that flex as people lean on them differently year to year. Think diagnosis is incredibly helpful unless there’s a contraindication (like if god forbid you desperately want to join the army, and you think you might be a little autistic, hey, if it doesn’t impact your life that much, don’t need to be barred from getting your dream job just for that but also get a better dream job). Pro medication to be whatever you need to be, be that a woman, a non-depressed person, or someone able to hold down a job. Meds are Accessibility.

I think that some people prefer not be considered abnormal, and I get that, but knowing you’re in a small area that most aren’t in the spectrum of human existence is ultimately helpful. Pretending that some experiences/disabilities aren’t disabilities but actually based on our ‘cultural expectations of x y and z’ are often cope meant to validate negative emotions towards that aspect of the self or that person’s relations with their proximal environment; without true reference to the fundamental experiences of people with disabilities, and the points that actually bind us together across the world to our kin in other countries. And being broken compared to other people can be fine actually. But identifying it helps both internally, socially, and medically.

My General Philosophy - Not Dr Who related, whether relevant or not depends on if I was understanding you correctly:

So I disagree with the general thesis usually put forward in left spaces that ‘mental illness/neurodivergence’ is a socio-cultural construct created by white people, and terms we’ve constructed related to such, like “ADHD”, are therefore fundamentally rooted in that and why should cultures of non-white people be pathologised using these terms.

Here: The Doctor isn’t [earth term] they’re [not from our culture].

This also is often dovetailed with the social model of disability. Which I’m sure you know, but that’s stating ‘disability’ as consequence of a world not built for you i.e. the idea that in a world of wheelchair users you would not be disabled.

On a philosophical level, while I understand them, I generally disagree with both.

Going in reverse.

These often are rooted in people seeing ‘disability’ (and here substitute for any other non-normative words I just don’t want to fill this with /queer/minority-gender etc) from an external perspective. I think it’s probably the least dangerous way for a normative person to think if you have to feed them a lazy solution, but it’s still lacking in nuance. And ultimately It’s a….validation response. “There’s nothing wrong with you, it’s the world that’s wrong” which ew. Cus I don’t think either is ‘wrong’ - a non-normative person or the world. It flattens the concepts.

And while helpful in a ‘please god just make accommodations like ramps’ way, and it is, it so is, please don’t let the non-disabled people read this; it doesn’t have the fundamental core of truth in this world we live in. I.e. if you can’t make a world of all wheelchair users, and you can’t, then with all the feasible accommodations in the world you’re still ultimately going to be disabled. Because you can’t change the heights of everything to a wheelchair user without making taller people have to bend painfully a lot etc. and none of it stops the variety of people that are wheelchair users where some can do some things, others can do others, and none of it gets rid of things like pain and hygiene difficulties and whatever, just says ‘but it would be easier to access painkillers, rest, etc’. The social model of disability purely used, is a good broad base for disability rights, but also in that pure form doesn’t stand up to much scrutiny unless you bring things back to one singular individual.

Example:

When my brain is full of cats, if I was in a world of people whose brains are also full of cats, we’re all still disabled because we can’t effectively communicate our ideas with each other.

Is it only useful to see this as a disability in order to access treatment/medication? I’d argue no. Knowing how and why you’re different is helpful on a fundamental level I feel. And in a world where most people’s brains aren’t full of cats, I get to benefit my psychological situation by knowing the details of how their brain broadly works and my brain broadly works, and having academics having researched people like me, and them, etc. etc. And if you would consider that self-treatment, then that folds so fundamentally with ‘living how i can most happily exist minute to minute and day to day’ that it may as well be indistinguishable.

Now, for socio-cultural construct. You’re not American, so I don’t need to do the whole ‘there’s no such thing as ‘white’ culture’ thing, I’m gonna assume you know all the nuances there, whatever.

There are definitely cultural differences in how people think. Huge ones. Have you ever been to Japan? Awesome place, but I think really shows some of those distinctions in a clear way. The general desire for things to be neat and ordered is so palpable that if you haven’t been there I can’t describe it. It’s like an aura. And don’t get me wrong, despite the amount of people sometimes, my autistic ass felt very at home. In fact because people were more ‘ordered’ the crowds were actually easier than in other countries. But I was still autistic. Still disabled by it. And Japan, like many places, is only just now coming out and trying to help and accommodate people with autism and other disabilities rather than them being in the house all day. They’ve only recently got around to even properly diagnosing ‘adult’ autism. And while there’s such a long way to go there, that’s helping people a lot, that they’re not just called ‘shut-ins’ anymore but they’re starting to be seen as legitimate people.

And this is what we forget when we talk about ‘pathologising’ people. Yes it can definitely go too far, but having someone not just be A Failed Person is also very very important. For them and for the people around them. All very well to go ‘what if we see nobody as a failed person’ cool but we won’t. Even you and I won’t sometimes.

And the reason why a lot of mental illnesses/neurotypes change some symptoms border to border but keep basics is because well, that’s the disability for you. Those are the bits that are wrong with the body and that’s fine. (And while things like “ADHD” may be underdiagnosed if say, you’re black, because people’s racism says ‘all black boys are hyperactive and don’t pay attention’ that’s a racism problem with the diagnoser, the disability is there). And cultural differences are very real, but that’s also one of the reasons why every country has their own diagnostic procedures. So imperfect, very very so, but not to the point of throwing out areas of study. Areas of study that truly have been studied across the entire globe. Fine, a white French person came up with this theory in 1904 but it’s been studied worldwide ever since - we’re going to say “schizophrenia” is a white term if it’s been studied in every continent?

Certainly these things have more weight when it comes to ideas of gender expression and sexual preference. America’s masculine ideal is not English, English masculinity not Finnish, Finnish masculinity not Japanese etc. etc.

However usually discussing this has two real world roots. Are we physically trying to change something in ourselves, or denoting a personal understanding of a boundary. Either way, given all people’s rights are equal (and they are rarely, but I’m pro that part of ‘western hegemony’), that does mean different cultures will view what makes a transgender person differently. For some people an amab’s desire to cook and look after children might cause a question of gender identity where in other cultures it wouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean the terms we’d use in regards to that are less meaningful, just nuances of them shift depending on culture.

(Someone is choking their lungs out outside. Hope we’re ready for the real world deconstruction of the diamond of the core of social disability model which is ‘the majority of people aren’t disabled’, cus hoo boy)

Finally The Dr Who Bit:

Out-Universe:

Doctor Who is a celebration of Being A Weird Guy.

But also not.

Because on one hand it’s quirky is good, good to be childish sometimes, and the other is This Character Is Fucked Up Don’t Be This. Both of those are Four, who much like Ten, gets the last but sanded down in people’s minds.

Doctor Who tells us being weird is good, that you should be kind even if it’s weird, helpful even if it’s weird, be clever even if it’s weird, and if you’re an interesting enough person you can even dress super weird if you like.

But it also shows us where being weird is…not good. For us and others around us. Yeah, maybe you should get help for that, go see a therapy group, take some respite, identify your partner as a problem and leave.

And many times it’s neutral. We write them with the differences so that an ADHD or Autistic person can go, ‘hey that’s me :) ’ and characters and writers and actors labelling them so helps those people feel seen. It’s become almost a staple of main characters now to have some sort of identifiable characteristic to people, but wasn’t always so, and I really do think Doctor Who helped a lot with that. Back when freaks weren’t heroes.

One shouldn’t feel the need to have to label every bit of themselves, as a capital-Q Queer I don’t. But having things to guide you is lovely. I came from a very country place in England that’s perpetually stuck in the worst parts of the 60’s. Pre and early days of internet. I didn’t get to know what things like autism, adhd, sexuality, or gender divergence, most races (not joking, exceptionally white, didn’t see a black person til I was like 9 that wasn’t on kids tv or crime watch — as in i know exactly where i saw him, that specific — and there was 1 black kid in our school of 600+ who came when we were 16), even most physical disabilities. If I hadn’t had CBBC I genuinely wouldn’t have had most of what I did. Hadn’t heard of ‘muslims’ until 9-11. I’m talking a deeply stagnant place.

But finding out there were different aspects of people but far more importantly, different WORDS for that? Huge. Game changing. You can’t actually look these things up otherwise. There was no library book that could tell me what I meant when I said I felt like the Doctor. Took a magazine scan on Doctor Who Forum talking about the character to actually say the word ‘autistic’ and help me in any way.

(Also turned out my mother had been fleeing various medical professionals trying to get me an autism diagnosis since the age of four. THANKS.)

Having a label helped me…de-alienise myself. I wasn’t alien any more, I was a person, just a specific kind.

So I’m pro-diagnosing (even if frequently distrusting of the people who are in theory supposed to be equipped to actually do that irl but aren’t). And I’m pro labelling the Doctor. While also giving enough freedom so that anyone can still headcanon the one that’s most like them. But saying Twelve has ADHD does no harm to anyone’s headcanons while also helping ADHD people, things like that are good in my book.

In-Universe:

The Doctor’s culture considers them a freak. If they truly have terms for mental differences I doubt it, they’re eugenicists, we know their go-to for depression is forced-regeneration i.e. suicide-by-murder.

Even the nice ones are not like the Doctor, seem little different to us, or at least those high in politics or money.

Within the Doctor’s own culture, they are extremely different, and if their culture had the words for autistic/adhd/genderqueer/whatever they would be them by their own society’s culture too, not just ours. Saying that they’re not those things they’re just Not From Here doesn’t make sense cus the Place They’re From thinks it about them too.

For it to be a they’re ‘Not From Here’ thing the Doctor would fit normally within their own society but they don’t.

Maybe this was part of the autschizadhdfirework-brain jump

'the doctor as a character (by design or evolution or#bit of both) is a perpetual other which is an experience that resonates with most people in one way or another#(fun bit of paradoxicality there) and what makes an other is not about (doctor) who/what you are#but rather about what everything around you is. the narratives youre captive in (social identities nationalities racialisation alienisation#what is Normal and how do you respond to it. how do you construct yourself/are you constructed through this response.#and i know what youre thinking now 'dimitri how the fuck did you get here'

Trying to follow. But might not be, the idea that you can’t label the ‘other’ parts would seem to contradict that - that the Doctor and us share the same sorts of experiences of othering (despite alien society) that allows one to see ‘same hat!’ and label it so would…fit that, wouldn’t it? Perhaps with the same fluidity we give them on assigning a political spectrum to them, but ‘being defined by what you aren’t’ is surely labelling of ones’ characteristics in a nutshell. That is the construction of ones’ sense of self. The definition of one as an entity and how best to navigate the world with those tools.

But ymmv.

I’m not one of those people who needs people to see things the same way I do. I’m not big on philosophical discussions or whatever, I promise.

the doctor isnt neurodivergent or autistic or adhd or nonbinary or genderqueer or asexual. what the doctor is, is Not From Here

[gothamsfinestdummy]

One day I might actually write an essay thing about how the reboot completely destroyed Pinky and Brain’s characters I am soooo very passionate about that subject

[slttygeto]

HUSBAND SUGURU! + PREGNANCY ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

tags: fem! reader, husband suguru!, nsfw, suguru is very hesitant about being a dad, but isnt forced into this :), reader is very motherly, dirty talk and talk about getting off the pill and being bred.

word count: 2,1k

Husband Suguru! whom before you even got married, sat you down and mentioned to you how starting a family wasn’t something he was looking forward to. you know of his past, of the trauma he’s been through. he fully expects you to break up with him when he tells you that, knows how much you want to have a baby of your own, but you don’t. instead, you cradle him in your arms and tell him that you love him and appreciate what you have right now, not what you don’t even see in the picture.

Husband Suguru! who swears he hasn’t changed his mind about babies, about starting a family in general even three years into the marriage. but when he sees you with your friend’s baby, the glow on your face, the motherly instinct—how you gently place your hand on the baby’s head, rock her back and forth and coo at her softly while her mother gets her food ready, his heart feels as though it is about to explode.

“There there baby girl,” your voice is barely above a whisper, and when the baby cries, your lip juts out and you pull the infant towards your chest in an attempt at soothing her. your eyes find his where he is sitting on the couch, and the lighthearted chuckle you give him pulls a nervous one out of his body. you are now convinced that your husband would never ever change his mind based on the horror painting his features as he turns to your friend’s husband to strike a conversation. but in reality, the topic of their conversation is all too surprising.

“Has it been difficult? You know, managing a career and taking care of the baby,”

“Oh yeah very,” the other man admits but Suguru doesn’t detect a single hint of regret in his voice. “but yknow, look at that,” he point his glass of water in the direction of his wife and you holding the baby. “seeing my wife with our baby, our creation—seeing her act all motherly like that? Totally worth it.”

Husband Suguru! who starts to consider the idea of getting you pregnant. he hopes for the rational part of his brain to win over, rather than the horny, disgustingly perverted one. but when you walk out of the shower in a crop top, his mind drifts elsewhere—and suddenly, the image of your belly swollen with his kids floods his mind and he has to put a pillow on his crotch to hide the very evident bulge in his pants.

Husband Suguru! who once he calms down and takes care of his raging boner, texts Satoru in a hurry, asking if they could meet up tomorrow morning. your husband tells you of his plans and you hum sleepily, telling him how catching up with his best friend seems like a good idea. Suguru drops the bomb on his best friend the moment they sit down and the ivory haired’s jaw almost meets the floor.

“You mean you wanna be a dad?”

“I’m not…too sure,” Suguru looks conflicted, he is holding his head in his hands. he knows very well that this is a topic that should be discussed with you, since you were the other person of interest in the situation. but he would hate to give you false hope, he’s seen the way your eyes light up at the mention of a baby, at one of your friends or colleagues being pregnant, how there’s a disappointed look on your face that you try so hard to conceal when Suguru gives you a face in response of a pregnancy announcement. but you are so patient, so accepting, you’ve never once forced him into anything. and truth be told, he wanted to see what kind of mother you would be to your baby—and then toddler, and then teenager and adult—you’d have a life together with a new person who would adapt either your personality or his, with a face of the love of his life. your baby could have your eyes and nose, he’s always pointed them out—even before you started dating.

“Dude, do you or do you not want to have a baby?”

“I don’t know man, it’s hard to think of.”

“Because you are thinking too hard about it,” Satoru says nonchalantly and it irks Suguru a little.

“I am not thinking too hard about it—this is a new responsibility, what if I am not fit to be a dad? I could be a failure for all we know—what if I pussy out of it and—“

“I would kill you.” Satoru warns the man and Suguru doesn’t try to hide how he stiffens up. “I am not joking, I would find you and bring you back to her as a sack of bones,”

“I wouldn’t betray her like that…”

“You’re too focused on the aspect of being a bad dad rather than a good one—yknow, you really think that she’d marry someone she doesn’t see fit as the future father of her children?” Satoru has a point. you did mention to him once (when Suguru was nowhere to be seen at a party you all attended) how falling in love with him was the best thing that’s ever happened to you, but the one thing that would top it is if he became a father to your children. Satoru, knowing his best friend’s stance on the topic, reminded you of how terrified the man was of the idea and all you did was give him a reassuring, understanding wave of your hands.

“I know, but I just know he’d love them hard and make them feel as safe as he makes me feel.”

Husband Suguru! who doesn’t really try to bring up the topic of ‘trying for a baby’. he cringes at the thought, feels as though it makes the process less romantic and intimate and more of a robotic task. as he is stripping you of your clothes, he is silent and lets his eyes wander over your figure. you are extremely shy tonight, unable to meet his eyes as his rough, calloused hands brush over the skin of your boobs before bending down to be at eye level with them. he brings the flesh inside his mouth and sucks—and blood rushes down to his groin at the thought of them being filled with milk, heavy and swollen, more sensitive than usual. his teeth graze the skin at an attempt to catch your attention and your thighs squeeze as you meet his eyes.

“Sugu…” your smaller hands rest on his face as he pulls away from your boobs to plant a heated kiss to your lips, effectively pushing you back on the bed. your back gently hits the mattress, and your chest is heaving in anticipation, unsure of what his next move would be.

“Baby,” he finally speaks up, nose brushing against your stomach as he brings his lips to the skin. “how about you drop the pill tomorrow?” he knows how much of a horrible job he is doing at this, but he feels you move, supporting yourself on your elbows.

“w-why would I do that?” your eyebrows are furrowed in confusion, and Suguru wishes to brush his thumb over the tense skin of your forehead.

Suguru is shameless as he kisses further south, planting his kiss above the tuft of your pubic hair before pushing your panties to the side. He parts the lips and gives your clit a kiss before moving to your inner thighs.

“why not? It’s doing horrible things to your body—“ he brushes his nose over your clit as he speaks. “beside, we need you off the pill if we want a baby, don’t you think?” when you don’t react to his words, Suguru looks up only to find you staring down at him with parted lips and eyes glossed over with tears.

“…are you sure?” you ask softly, and your husband swears he could never say no to you if you asked like that all the time.

“very,”

Husband Suguru! who fucks you with a new purpose. each drive of his hips fueling the other to go harder, deeper, to keep pushing his cum inside you and plant his seed deep within. your cunt does a great job at showing Suguru how ecstatic and excited you are with his sudden change of heart. you keep squeezing around him, barely able to keep your sounds in—he fucks you so deeply that the sound of skin to skin is louder than your moans and his groans. when he puts you on all fours, the cum starts to drip out of you but he pushes it back in with two thick fingers, lips pressed to your ass cheek.

“want more?”

“mmm! please,” you whine when he aligns his tips with your folds and fixes your arch with a hand on the small of your back. the gasp that escapes your lips when he fucks into you hard makes Suguru chuckle and he rubs your sides, soothing you.

“no need to beg for it,” he leans down and presses a kiss to your nape. “I’d gladly fill you up.”

Husband Suguru! who stiffens up when you show him the positive pregnancy test. up until this point, he is in control of his emotions—he lets you cry in his arms about how scary all of this was, despite you saying you’ve always wanted a baby. he is supportive, understanding of the heightened emotions that you are experiencing—when he sees your tears turn into happy ones, only half of him is able to relax. clearly, he is nervous but he doesn’t wanna show it. not right now.

The first ultrasound during your pregnancy was nerve racking—your hand squeezed your husband’s as you stared at the screen showing what appeared to be your unborn baby. Very tiny, but still there.

“Okay mom and dad,” the doctor presses the ultrasound transducer a bit lower on your stomach, a small smile on his face. “I got some news for you.”

“Good?” your anxious voice has Suguru rubbing his thumb on the back on your hand.

“It depends, how long have you been trying for this baby?” You couldn’t exactly disclose of your very active sex life, but you do give the doctor hints that it was definitely wanted.

“Well, look over here—“ he points to the screen with his gloved finger, ushering Suguru to come closer. “Look over here dad, what do you see?”

Suguru swallows hard as he stares at the screen in confusion, unsure of what to say. “..a baby?”

“Babies. Congratulations, you’re pregnant with twins.”

Your husband whips his head towards you fast, and you cover your mouth in shock. This wasn’t planned—twins? And for a first time? You didn’t know if the tears streaming down your face were of excitement or fear that maybe you weren’t ready for this.

But Suguru still comforts you, holds you in his arms—tells you that maybe finding out the gender won’t make all of this sound scary anymore. He knew you never really had a preference for gender—you were a natural mom.

However, finding out the gender was an emotional experience for the same man who never thought he would become a father.

Husband Suguru! who tells Satoru to buy the gender reveal cake for you two. he doesn’t want to throw a party, and neither do you. finding out within the privacy of your own home seemed like the best option—you didn’t want to reveal that you were pregnant to any family members—at least not yet.

“Are you ready?” You hold your own glass as you wait for your husband to stand next to you. Your bump wasn’t that evident yet, but signs of pregnancy were starting to show on your body and it brought this warm feeling to Suguru’s body.

“Yeah, hold my hand.” You chuckle slightly at his request but comply either way. Each of you holds their own glass above the cake before looking away as you push it down—you hold your breath, Suguru rests his forehead on your shoulder as he mumbles something about not being able to look at the cake. But you muster up the courage and lift your glass, eyes wide and lips parted in shock.

“Sugu—“ you don’t need to tell him to look, he was already staring at the glass with teary eyes. The pink frosting wasn’t something he was expecting to see—he knew he was going to be happy with either but two little girls? His own baby girls—the thought of being a girl dad brings tears to his eyes and you’re quickly pulling him towards you.

“Oh baby,” you hold back your own tears as you comfort your emotional husband, his arms wrapped around your middle. You hear little sniffles and a hand rubs your back before feeling a pair of lips pressed to your forehead.

“Gonna be the prettiest mom to the prettiest girls. Ever.”   

note: my posts are all self indulgent at this point… enjoy :D

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[inkykeiji]

omg clari sweetie i just read your post about tokyo revengers and LISTEN i hate the time travel plot thingy too but when i tell you i got struck HARD by tokrev i'm not kidding,,,,, like my friends watched it first and i didn't want it to bc of the time-travel but once i saw the first season and got into the manga i just couldn't dig myself out of that hole. i have never hyperfixated so much about a media in my life like i did with tokrev and its characters... not even bnha, jjk, haikyuu!! or bsd. NOT EVEN CLOSE. i'm not lying when i tell you some of the characters and their adult selfs in tokrev are everything you dream about touya-nii and bmb!tomura <33333 you can search ‘bonten’ if you want some insight about what you can find if you give it a chance 👀

ahhhh i dunno anon!! i really don’t feel interested in it. i just looked up how many timelines there are and two separate posts said there are at least six >.< that already sounds so convoluted??? i dunno like maybe it’s handled really well and in a way that isn’t confusing and tangled and is written fantastically; i can’t make any concrete judgements, i don’t know. but there’s genuinely nothing that’s catching my eye here. i love organized crime, but if it’s involved in several people jumping back and forth between the past and the present my interest has withered to ash.

if there’s something specific you think i might actually like about this series that’ll make it worth investing time into, you’re totally welcome to tell me, spoilers and all (tho don’t feel pressured!!! obv you absolutely do not have to! it isn’t ur job to convince me HAHA). otherwise, i think it’s just not for me!

[itneverendshere]

maybe wheezie or even sarah needing rafe to pick them up from school or attend a back to school night. like the school calls rafe to pick up sarah after getting in a fight. or the teacher calls him in to discuss that wheezie struggling in math

thank you for the request!!! 🫶🏻🫂 i think rafe's always had a soft spot for wheezie so i did this one for her cause i personally can see their dynamic being really cute.

 we're both older now - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Sitting in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. His hands were on the wheel, jaw clenched just enough for you to notice, but not enough to freak out.

It’s been months since rehab, and you swear, you’ve never seen him like this before—so focused, so... responsible. It’s kinda hot.

But that’s not what you’re here for. Not right now.

You’re headed to Wheezie’s school because, apparently, she’s been struggling with math. She didn’t want to tell Rafe because Ward’s rarely at home these days and she didn’t want to bother him. When you found out, you could’ve smacked her. You get it—Rafe’s been under a lot of pressure lately—but you don’t think she realizes how much he cares about her. That’s why you two are heading to a parent-teacher meeting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s not. 

“I should’ve known something was off,” Rafe mutters, breaking the silence.

You look over at him. “You couldn’t have. Wheezie’s good at keeping stuff to herself.”

He shakes his head, his grip tightening on the wheel just a little. “I’m her brother. I should’ve noticed.”

You reach over, resting your hand on his arm. “You’re doing your best, baby. That matters.”

He lets out a breath, his tension easing under your touch. God, sometimes it’s hard to believe he’s the same guy who used to pick fights at every chance he got just a few years ago. It’s been almost a year since his last relapse, but every day you see him fighting to be better—for himself, for you, for his sisters. And honestly? It does something to you, seeing him like this. 

You pull into the school parking lot, and he parks the truck, turning off the engine. For a second, he just sits there, staring straight ahead. You know what he’s thinking. He’s wondering if he’s good enough to handle this, to handle all of it.

“You got this,” You say softly.

Together, you walk into the school, and after a quick conversation with the receptionist, you’re led to Wheezie’s teacher’s classroom. The room smells like dry-erase markers and stress, the kind you remember from my own high school days.

Except, this is a private school, completely different from what you were used to, and back then, you loved school. You were good at it too—really good, actually. Straight A’s, honors, full ride to a decent college…but life had other plans.

You look at Rafe as you wait for the teacher to start the meeting. He’s sitting up straight, listening intently, and your chest tightens a little.

The same guy who used to blow off any responsibility now sitting here, laser-focused, ready to step up for his little sister. The teacher starts talking about Wheezie’s grades, how she’s been falling behind in math, and you can see the guilt in his face. You squeeze his knee under the table, trying to ground him, but honestly? This was hitting a little too close to home for you, too.

“I can help her,” You hear yourself say before you’ve even really thought about it. Rafe turns to look at you, surprised, and you shrug like it’s no big deal.

The teacher blinks, probably not expecting the girlfriend to jump in with a solution. “What did you score on your final exams?”

You move in your seat, not expecting the question but not exactly shy about your answer either. "I got a 1600 on my SATs," You said, trying to sound casual about it, even though you could see Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up next to you. 

The teacher’s eyes widen slightly. "That’s impressive," she says, "You must’ve had a lot of options for college."

You shrug again feeling that familiar feeling of bittersweet regret. "Yeah, I had a full ride to a few places.”

“And you didn’t go?”

The way she says says it—like she can’t imagine why you wouldn’t go—hurts a little. 

"Yeah, well... life happened." You try to brush it off like it doesn’t bother you.

Rafe’s hand slides over to yours under the table, interlocking your fingers and giving you a gentle squeeze. It’s subtle, but it’s enough for you. To remind you that you made the right choices, even if they weren’t easy ones.

The meeting wraps up pretty quickly after that.

The teacher gives Rafe some advice on how to help Wheezie stay on track, and you both thank her before heading out of the classroom. As you walk down the hallway, he stays quiet for a bit, and you can’t really read what’s going through his head.

By the time you get back to the truck, he turns to you, his brow furrowed slightly, like he’s still processing everything. "You got a perfect score on your SATs?"

Three years into the relationship and he’s still learning things about you every day.

You let out a small laugh, brushing some hair behind your ear. "Yeah. It’s not a big deal."

"That’s kinda insane," he says, looking at you like he’s seeing a whole new side of you. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

You shrug for the millionth time today, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I don’t know. It just never came up. It’s not like it matters now, anyway.”

"It does matter." His voice is firm, and when you glance over, you can see how serious he looks. "You gave up a lot to help your sister. That’s not nothing."

Your throat tightens, and you have to swallow down the emotion rising inside you. The way Rafe says it, like he actually gets it, means more than he probably knows. "I just did what I had to do."

He nods slowly, like he understands that feeling all too well. "You didn’t have to offer to help Wheezie today. But you did.”

You don’t want to make a big deal out of it. "I want to help her. She deserves it."

Rafe doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with this soft, almost disbelieving expression. Like he can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re still here, beside him, helping his family without a second thought.

"You’re amzing, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice low and warm in that way that makes your stomach flip.

You feel your cheeks heat up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Stop."

"I mean it." He reaches over, cupping your face gently with his hand, thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. His eyes soften as they meet yours, filled with so much adoration it makes you want to hide. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m really fucking grateful."

You bite your lip, glancing down at his other hand on your knee before looking back up at him.

"You’ve been working hard. For yourself, for us. I see that."

His jaw tightens just slightly, and he looks down, almost like he’s not sure how to take the compliment. But when his eyes meet yours again,

"I’m trying," he says quietly. "I’m trying to be better."

"And you are," you whisper. "Every day."

The months of hard work, the late nights when you’ve held him through his doubts, the mornings when he’s shown up for his family even when it was hard. It’s all there, between you, unspoken but understood.

Rafe leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Thank you," he whispers. "For everything."

You close your eyes, letting the moment settle around you. "I’ll always be here," you whisper back. "We’ve got this."

“I don’t think I would’ve made it this far without you.”

You swallow hard, trying not to let it hit you too deep. But it does. Because for all the mess you’ve been through—his ups and downs, his relapse, his constant fight to be better—it always comes back to you. To this.

“I’ll always have your back,” You remind him quietly. “You know that, right?”

He nods, like there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind. “I know. You’re really good with her," he says after a beat. "With Wheezie. And with Milo."

You smile, leaning back in your seat. "Yeah, well, someone’s gotta look after the kids, right? Might as well be me."

Rafe’s lips twitch into another smile as he leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, "Thank you, baby.”

“For what?”

“For sticking around,” he says, pulling back slightly to look at you. “Even when I didn’t make it easy.”

 “You make it worth it, Rafe. You always have.”

Because seeing him like this—happy, strong, responsible, and healthy—it’s more than just him trying. It’s him becoming the person you always believed he could be, from day one on that stupid country club. And that? That’s something you’d stick around for any day.

When you and Rafe pull up to Tannyhill, the sun’s already setting. You grab your bag from the backseat, and he takes a deep breath, his hand hovering near yours like he needs to hold onto you just for a second longer. When you step into the house, you’re greeted by the usual stillness that fills the place. It’s huge, but it always feels too quiet.

Wheezie’s sitting at the kitchen island, hunched over her phone, clearly trying to distract herself. Her leg’s bouncing nervously under the stool, and you don’t even have to say anything to know that she’s been dreading this moment.

As soon as she sees the two of you, she freezes, eyes wide, "Hey," she greets, her voice shaky.

Rafe glances at you, and you give him a small nod. You know he’s trying to figure out how to handle this—he’s never really had to play the role of ‘responsible older brother’ before. But he’s doing it. He’s trying. And that’s what matters.

"Wheeze," Rafe starts, as he walks over to her, and you can see the panic rising in her eyes as she sits up straighter like she’s preparing for the worst. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

She bites her lip, glancing between the two of you. "I-I didn’t want to bother you," she mumbles, her voice small. "You’ve been dealing with a lot, and I thought— I don’t know. I thought I could handle it on my own."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s quiet for a second, and you can feel Wheezie’s anxiety practically buzzing out of her. She’s probably expecting him to yell, to go off on her, but instead, he takes a step forward and pulls her into a hug.

"You ever keep something like that from me again," he mutters into her hair, his tone firm but warm, "and you’re grounded."

Wheezie’s eyes go wide in shock, like she wasn’t expecting that at all. Her arms wrap around him a little awkwardly, but you can tell she’s relieved. She pulls back after a second, staring up at him with those big brown eyes of hers. "You’re not mad?"

Rafe shakes his head, but his expression is serious. "I’m not mad. I’m worried, Wheeze. I’m here, okay? I got you."

"I’m sorry," she whispers.

He sighs again, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at her. "Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again."

She nods quickly, and you step closer, offering her a small smile. "You’re not in trouble, Wheezie. I’m gonna help you with the math stuff, okay? I promise."

Wheezie looks over at you, clearly surprised, and then back at Rafe. "You’re… really not mad?"

Rafe rolls his eyes but in that big-brother way that’s full of affection.

"No, Wheeze, I’m not mad. But next time you’re struggling with something, tell me. That’s what I’m here for."

She nods, relief washing over her features. "Okay. I will."

Rafe reaches out and ruffles her hair, something so casual and brotherly it makes your heart swell.

"Good. Now go do whatever you do, and remember—grounded if you pull that shit again."

You slap his arm, “Will stop cursing in front of her?”

He shoots you a half-smirk, looking completely unbothered. "Please baby, she’s sixteen. You think she doesn’t curse?"

Wheezie lets out a small laugh, covering her mouth as if she’s trying to keep it together, but you can tell she’s relieved. 

"Yeah, but maybe not in front of her big brother," you tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

Rafe shrugs, looking like he couldn’t care less. "If she’s smart enough to hide it from me, more power to her."

Wheezie giggles again, and you can’t help but smile. "Yeah, yeah," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him playfully. "You’re a great role model, Rafe Cameron."

He groans, “Please don’t use the full name.” The corners of his mouth tug up in a grin that makes your heart skip. “Alright, no more big brother lectures tonight. We’re good, yeah, Wheeze?”

Wheezie nods, still smiling. “Yeah, we’re good.”

[woniverse-writes]

“MOTH TO A FLAME (preview)”

Bada Lee x Fem!Reader

prologue ⟶ part one

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: swearing, reader is described as cute and petite… sorry to my non-tiny friends.

Starting something young and continuing into your present adulthood can be pressuring, especially if that certain thing happens to end up being your career. For y/n l/n, she's still very young and just in the beginning stages of her career. Still in college, but turning her studies to be online right now due to her current situation, she's working towards a business degree, and doubling that major with dance. 

So you can imagine she's a little high-strung since on top of being a college student, she's currently in South Korea, competing as a member of Jam Republic on the second season of Street Woman Fighter. Although y/n is always busy, she's always got a sweet smile on her face- which is why many people, including other dancers, have been drawn to her. It's also why she's currently facing a sea of dancers, waiting to be picked for the "no respect" battle, since she and her fellow teammate, Audrey, received the most votes as the worst dancers.

"She looks kind of scary now…" Yoonji whispers to her teammates looking at y/n. Redlic looks in the direction Yoonji is looking at and laughs a little.

"What're you talking about? y/n? She looks like a kitten trying to be a lion." Now the rest of ManneQueen is staring at Jam Republic, specifically y/n l/n. And sure enough, instead of her usual bright and smiling self, her eyes are fiery and to put it bluntly, she looks pissed the fuck off. Waackxxy was the one to turn to Redlic and go-

“No, she’s definitely got something fierce going on right now… I hope she has a lot of battle cuz I’m kind of interested in her now…” causing the rest of her team to laugh and agree. On the other side, Jam Republic is having their own discussion regarding y/n. 

“I think you should just wait and see- maybe no one will even pick you as a “no respect” dancer!” Ling tried cheering up her younger teammate.

“No I want someone to battle me- I want everyone who voted for me and Audrey to come and try us” y/n fired back with her arms crossed as she leaned back into her chair. She really did look intimidating, especially with her makeup and hair done. Audrey on the other hand was not feeling the same fire-

“Uhm, maybe we don’t need everyone to want to battle us…maybe just a few.” Audrey started to reason, 

”Cuz I don’t know if you remember, but there were a LOT of people that voted for us as the worst dancers…” which caused Kirsten and Ling to sigh, and y/n to roll her eyes and clench her jaw.

“Audrey, my love, I’m very well aware of how many people think we suck-“ 

“You don’t suck-” 

“Thank you Emma, but please give me a second”

“Y/n take a deep breath and check your well-being”

She sighed at their team leader’s advice, knowing it was to help her out and so that she didn’t get too fired up with her teammates. It’s not that y/n doesn’t get along with them- it’s the furthest thing from that- but she gets very passionate about everything, and she’s a bit of a hothead. On top of all that, y/n is very protective of those she cares about, some of those people being her dear teammates.

“I’m sorry” she mumbles a bit, but ultimately huffs out the response. To which Kirsten replies with a motherly “thank you”, causing the others to chuckle.

“I just don’t understand how they can all collectively make the assumption that we’re not as good as them- for what? Why? Because we’re foreigners? Because we smile a lot? Because we’re pretty? To me THAT just sounds like jealousy” y/n continues to rant, frantically moving her hands and arms about, expressing her frustration- and her team just listens patiently for her to finish. Once she finally lets out her final huff and relaxes back into her chair with her arms crossed again, and a pout now sporting her face, her teammates can’t help but smile gently at their youngest member- some even trying to hide giggles and chuckles of endearment. 

“Y/n, sweetheart, you’ve gotta remember- not everyone thinks like you- I wish they did, but they just don’t” Kirsten starts to comfort her, and places a hand on her head, trying her best to calm down the passionate young girl. 

Kirsten always felt like asking y/n to join her team was one of the best choices she made in regards to being a leader. She knew the younger girl had experience in kpop dance styles, having performed at multiple k-con stages and doing countless covers from other groups. Kirsten also saw an unlimited amount of potential in y/n and saw how quickly and easily she absorbed everything around her. The only thing she was worried about was how young she was. it wasn’t a huge concern to her since their whole team was pretty young, but when it came down to it, Kirsten ended up adding Audrey in as well, and the two hit it off right away! To be completely honest- Kirsten felt as if the three youngest members were her babies. Audrey being the sweet angel of a golden child, Emma being the responsible oldest, and y/n being the chaotic troublemaker who’s always trying to pick a fight with someone for hurting her sisters. 

“You just need to remember that we’re here to dance, have fun, and gain a new experience… alright?” Kirsten has successfully reduced her gremlin child to a less angry (but still very pouty) version of herself.

“…alright”

“Thank you. Now please stop pouting, you look like a kicked puppy and the other will probably start picking on you soon” Kirsten teased lightly, which caused Audrey to join in and start poking y/n’s cheek, leading to Emma tugging gently on her hair, and Ling poking her other cheek, all while Latrice coos at her and pats her head. This all of course causes her to start whining and complaining playfully at her members teasing.

But the endearment for each other doesn’t end outside of the members' little cluster. the love for Jam Republic, and specifically y/n, has now spread to the entire studio. as everyone originally took notice of the youngest member’s slight temper tantrum, most didn’t really know what she was ranting about, but they could tell she was not happy at all. The two teams sitting nearest to Jam Republic happened to be Bebe and 1Million, who originally both had members that intended to battle y/n, but after hearing her rant, some opinions changed. 

“I like her style! She’s very passionate” Harimu laughed as she explained her newfound interest in Jam Republic’s youngest. 

“That’s what I was thinking- I don’t even wanna battle her anymore, I just wanna watch her tear up the stage with all her energy” Redy chimed in.

“Do you think we should go up to her during break and try to become friends?” They begin to laugh and joke around about their shared interest in y/n. But their team’s older members aren’t quite on the same level of endearment.

“Ya- you two should be trying to take her down before befriending her, don’t you think?” Lia warns the two girls, who just look at each other and start giggling.

“I don’t know if I’d necessarily wanna go up against someone with her temper” Redy starts off jokingly, but Harimu is already coming back in a teasing mood-

“Yeah cuz you’d probably cry.” Which has Redy letting a gasp-  her jaw dropped to the floor, eyes wide with shock and (false) betrayal.

The other team seated next to Jam Republic isn’t as chipper as 1 Million though, as their leader is trying to convince her team to stick with their guts.

“You wanted to battle her at first for a reason- why would that reason change if you still haven’t seen her dance?” Bada asks Cheche, Sowoen, and Minah. They all voted y/n as the worst dancer because her style was too “pretty” and they thought she relied on having cute expressions. Bada didn’t entirely agree with her teammates, but everyone is entitled to their own opinion. She even originally stated how she thought y/n’s style was refreshing and youthful, but she was worried about how she’d be with darker concepts.

“Well- I mean- she seems kinda crazy…” Cheche halfheartedly joked, but in reality, she was being completely serious.

“Why? Because she’s angry? She should be angry. Being voted as the worst dancer isn’t something to be happy about…” Bada replies calmly. No one really says anything, as they all are just trying to process whether or not their leader is defending their opponent or just provoking them. 

Bada sighs and stands up to stretch. She wants her team to not only be amazing dancers, but critical thinkers too. Of course Bada wants a win, but she also wants her team to be strong- and if going up against someone with untouchable morale will force her teammates to be stronger, then that’s what they need to do.

She also may or may not be personally interested in seeing what y/n is made of. After all, she caught her attention originally with her bright smile and explosive personality- Bada thought her bold expressions and reactions to things were an endearing contrast from her cute or refreshing facials used when dancing. So now having seen y/n in stark opposition, she’s even more interested.  

Even in the short period of time she’s known her, Bada’s interested in who y/n is and what she can do- especially since she didn’t expect that much personality to fit into such a petite person. She wants to understand her better- even more so after hearing her passionate rant about wanting to prove everyone wrong. She almost feels delusional for being as interested in y/n as she is, but Bada really can’t help but feel drawn to her- like a moth to a flame.

notes: thank you to everyone who read!! this is my first fic so i was a little nervous to share it- especially since it's not really all that interesting yet. but i thought it would be better to write the not-so-interesting stuff as an intro/preview/prologue, so it didn't take up space in the actual fic. I'm hoping to have the first full part up by sometime in the middle of this upcoming week. i want it to encompass the whole three episodes that have aired so far, so there's a lot i wanna write lol

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Unbound

Part 7 - Putting on a Brave Face

Series Summary - Not having a mating bond didn't stop the love Azriel and Celeste have for each other or their commitment. When an unknown magic lingering from Celeste's past causes her to lose all memories of the last century, will they be able to rebuild their life without a bond tethering them together?

Word Count - 6.2k

Warnings - general angst/anxiety, light swearing, canon typical fighting, memory loss.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Celeste stared pointedly at Nesta. The breakfast tray that Elain had just brought up was laying over her outstretched legs in the bed. The taste of the bile from last night still lingered even after brushing her teeth. Her stomach gave a needy rumble and Celeste knew she should eat something. 

“Celeste, honey. I’m so, so sorry.” Nesta started from her position in the chair at the bedside. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you. I promise. We just didn’t want to overwhelm you so soon after waking up. You were so terrified and we didn’t want to scare you even more.”

“Who is ‘we’?” Celeste asked with a narrowed glare, the piece of toast she had been nibbling now abandoned. Nesta sounded genuinely upset at the thought of hurting Celeste by withholding information but she couldn’t let go of that nagging suspicion. 

“Well, all of us. Everyone who cares about you.” Nesta dropped her gaze from Celeste’s face and started down and her hands in her lap. “This is all new to us too, you know. We were just trying to do what we thought was best.”

Celeste tried to hide the annoyance from her face. 

New to them? They aren’t the ones who woke up with no knowledge of their life.

Another look at Nesta and she calmed her flare of anger. It was obvious she was trying to be a good friend here and there was genuine worry written across her face. She had been nothing but kind to Celeste since she woke up.

“Is there a reason that knowing Azriel is my husband should scare me?” She asked.

Nesta’s chin shot up to look at Celeste once more. “What?”

“You said that you didn’t want to scare me more. Is there a reason I should be afraid of him?”

“No. No, of course not.” Nesta’s countenance softened, her mouth quirking at the corner. “But you did wake up thinking that he and Cassian were guards here to haul you off. I didn’t think  breaking the news that one of them was your husband would go over very well.”

The explanation sounded perfectly logical. Celeste was sure that she would have indeed taken it badly finding that out so soon after waking up. She didn’t exactly take it well when she found out last night either. 

“We weren’t trying to actively keep you from knowing.” Nesta continued when Celeste remained quiet. “I just hadn’t exactly discussed with Az how to go about doing it yet.”

“Do you need his permission to tell me things?” That ugly suspicion rose up again full force.

This time Nesta scoffed. “I don’t need his permission to do anything,” she said seriously. “His or anyone else's. And neither do you.”

Reaching over the bedspread to grasp Celeste’s hand she carried on. “I know why you are thinking the things you are, Celeste, but it’s not like that here. That isn’t your life any longer. You are safe here. Safe and loved and free to do whatever you want. No one is going to punish you for anything you do, I promise.”

“What do you know of my life before?” There was no malice in her question.

“Enough. You’ve told me a lot of it, but I’m sure there are things you haven’t told me. And that’s ok. It’s your story to tell. But I know how you were treated and the punishments that were inflicted upon you. Those things will never happen here. Not to you or me or anyone else. I wouldn’t stand for it.”

Celeste briefly thought about how easy it was for Nesta to say that. It was easy to say you wouldn’t tolerate something until it was happening to you. Until you had no choice and no way out. She knew first hand that a person would tolerate a lot of things they disagreed with if it meant staying alive. 

The room remained quiet as Celeste continued to pick at her food. Nesta didn’t push or prod any further. 

“Is he kind?” Celeste’s voice broke the silence. “You said Cassian was like a giant puppy in battle leathers. Is Azriel like that too?”

Nesta’s laugh rang through the room as she threw her head back. “No, I wouldn’t say the same thing about Az,” she gathered her breath again. “Cassian likes to joke around. He teases and pokes and tries to make people laugh. And drives me crazy most days. But Azriel is different. He’s the quiet one. Stoic. He had a rough start in life and he can be very hard to read until you know him and even then it’s not easy.”

Nesta paused as she gave Celeste’s hand a gentle squeeze. “But he is kind. He is one of the kindest males I have ever met. He has always been one to do anything to protect those that he loves.”

Celeste studied Nesta’s eyes as she relayed her answer. Her gray eyes were clear and genuine. She could tell that she believed wholeheartedly everything she was saying, but that didn’t stop that wiggle of doubt from creeping in. 

“He would do anything for you, Celeste. He loves you, truly.” Nesta’s eyes never broke contact.

Instead of the wiggle of doubt, Celeste felt a sensation she wasn’t familiar with. It was small and not insistent enough to latch on to. Just a quick flashing flicker in the middle of her gut. 

“I’m sick of this bed.” Celeste changed the subject. “I want to get up. I feel fine.”

After dressing in another pair of those impossibly soft pants and a shirt that was definitely hers this time, Nesta led her out of the bedroom into the hall. As they began making their way towards the stairs she pointed out the library Celeste had discovered last night. 

“We usually hang out in here. We could sit and read if you want.”

Celeste surveyed the room from the doorway where they stood but her attention was focused on the door just a few feet away. The entrance to the office was closed fully this time and the murmur of voices could be heard behind it. 

“Or we could sit outside.” Nesta continued when she didn’t answer. “Some fresh air maybe?”

Celeste tore her focus back to the woman next to her. “Yes, fresh air. I think I’d like that.”

They made their way down the stairs and headed for the front door. Before they could cross the entirety of the entryway a boisterous voice rang out behind them. 

“Nes,” Cassian called as he trundled down the stairs. “I’m heading out after lunch. I have to meet Rhys. Do you want me to carry you home or are you staying here?” He turned to Celeste. “Good to see you up and about. Feeling better?” A wide unfeigned smile spread across his face.

Nesta watched Celeste as she just nodded at his question with a downcast look. “No, I think I’ll stay. But carry some food with you to Feyre would you. Elain cooked enough to feed an army.”

“Or for the General Commander of an army at least.” Cassian smiled at his own joke but it fell flat on his audience.

Celeste wasn’t listening, as she had raised her gaze, she spotted another figure still making his way down the stairs. Azriel, reaching the entryway floor, didn’t approach their small gathering but instead left a wide berth as he sidled past them toward the back hallway. His eyes locked solely on Celeste.

Her heart began to pick up rapidly as the thought of stumbling upon him last night sprang forth and her body jolted into action, taking an involuntary step backwards. His eyes still hadn’t left hers, his brows furrowed inward as he flinched at her movement. 

“Are you going with Cas?” Nesta asked after him. 

“No.” he replied meekly, turning away from them.

Celeste followed his movements as he retreated, Nesta’s earlier words ringing through her mind.

Stoic.

Kind.

He loves you, truly.

The next few days progressed in much the same quiet way. Celeste normally tucked herself into a book or sat placidly outside watching people pass by out front, Nesta a constant by her side. Her interactions with Azriel were hardly more than a meal shared with others or a quick passing in the hallway. She had poked around in every room by now and even though there were signs of her presence all around, it still felt foreign in her mind. The clothes in the wardrobe were definitely hers. The official letters and correspondence in the library desk were penned in her hand. The small trinkets and style of decoration all throughout the house were definitely her taste. She hadn’t gone delving too deeply though, not wanting to find anything too damning in the presence of her friend. But so far she had found no sign of her past self in these walls. The only self she knew now. 

Nesta. My friend. 

Confusing as it was to have no memories of their friendship, it still felt right to call Nesta her friend. She had been nothing but kind and straightforward with her since her whole world had been flipped upside down, doing her best to help her navigate through. Celeste was especially relieved to find her close by at night the few times she had abruptly awakened from more dreams. They were never fully materialized, just snippets portrayed randomly in no particular order. But they were enough to get her body flooded with adrenaline and jolted from sleep. 

“Smells like Elain is at it again.” Nesta’s voice broke through her wandering thoughts. “Let’s go down before it gets cold. I’m starving.”

They settled down to eat in the dining room along with Elain, who had joined them for many of the meals since she had cooked a fair number of them. Cassian heaped his plate full across the table from them, a nod of thanks in Elain’s direction. His presence during the day was nearly as constant as Nesta’s, stopping in after training and his official duties before retiring to the House of Wind at night. The final member of their lunch party rejoined them, Azriel settling himself back into his chair after seeing Rhys out. 

“Well that’s good news then.” Cassian said referencing the news Rhys had just brought them regarding Helion’s response. “We just might have some answers tomorrow.”

Cassian’s wink in Celeste’s direction made her slightly uncomfortable, but not nearly as uncomfortable as it would have a few days ago. Cassian was quick to laugh and hardly ever without a smile or a joke. His easiness in any company had done a lot to begin melting Celeste’s persistent worry.

Helion’s impending visit had a tangible tension hanging in the air however, mostly radiating from the opposite side of the table. The charged atmosphere had Celeste on edge but she didn’t quite feel the same way about the news. She wasn’t allowing herself to get her hopes up only for them to be dashed. 

“Are there always this many people in and out of here?” Celeste piped up, changing the subject. 

Cassian smirked. “You can kick us out anytime you like, you know.”

Azriel’s hard glare in his direction had him smirking at his plate instead. “Not normally this frequently, no.” Az answered as if it took some effort to keep his voice even.

“Often enough that Azriel keeps threatening to move though.” Nesta’s mouth perked up into her own smirk at the Illyrian across the table. Another hard glare in her direction didn’t break her gaze though.

“What?” she challenged. “We all know you secretly love it, Shadowsinger.”

“Enough.” Azriel snapped harshly.

The sharp change in atmosphere had Celeste freezing with her fork halfway to her mouth. She remained still as her eyes darted over the rest of their company. Elain’s eyes went wide for a split second before she straightened her napkin in her lap. Cassian and Nesta exchanged a quick look between them before Cas shoved an elbow into Azriel’s side.

“Don’t worry,” he directed at Celeste. “Nobody’s moving anywhere. I simply won’t allow it. I’d starve if that happened.”

“The house can conjure anything you want Cassian. You aren’t in danger of starving.” Nesta quipped. 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t listen to me. You two have that in common.” Another smirk graced his face and with Nesta’s answering crack of a laugh the tension was broken.

For everyone but Celeste that was. She risked a glance at the figure across from her. The tension rolling off of him had his shadows flowing over his shoulders in waves. The name Nesta had called Azriel had her attention drawn to those strange wisps that she had noticed he was never without. She had caught them a few times slowly drifting over her skin whenever she was close enough, which wasn’t often. She had wondered what they were and where they came from, asking Nesta once.

“I don’t really know what they are. They just — are," she had said. “I don’t think he’s ever explained how they came to be or if he even really knows himself.”

It was Azriel’s observance that she was staring that shook her back into the present. Dipping her head towards her plate, Celeste pushed her food around with her fork, no longer hungry but not wanting to offend Elain. 

The chatter that had accompanied the meal at the start was now just a quick remark here or there, mainly between the sisters and Cassian. 

“What would I be doing now if things were normal?” She asked during a lull in the conversation. “Like during a typical day?”

The word normal seemed to rub against the already tense aura around Azriel, his wings shuffling before he pulled them in again. A scowl flashing across his face. 

“Seeing patients, I suppose,” offered Nesta. “It all depends on the needs of the day and the rotation schedule and things like that.”

“You’d be in the clinic.” Azriel spoke. His voice was much calmer now but his body and face still tense. “It’s your clinic rotation this week.”

“Clinic? Where’s that? I thought I did house calls?” Celeste hadn’t asked for a lot of information about her usual routine outside of the healer abilities she had no memory of acquiring. She had tried once or twice in secret to pull forth whatever force should be within her but found no answering magic.

“It’s downtown.” Azriel answered her again, now pushing around his own food on his plate. “You do house calls mostly, but all the healers do clinic rotations for a week at a time.”

“It’s for patients that need round the clock care or more specialized treatment.” Nesta added. 

“Could I go there? I’d like to see it. Do you think they would have something for me to do?” Celeste looked toward Nesta hoping she’d volunteer as her chaperone. “I’d like to feel useful and get out of this house for a bit.” 

The clank of Azriel’s fork dropping to his plate made everyone jump. With another uneasy ruffling of his wings, he excused himself from the table. 

“I’m sure they could always use an extra set of hands somewhere.” Nesta answered smoothly as she gave a nod to Cassian. “I can take you if you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much. Thanks, Nes.”

It was the first time Celeste had used her nickname since this whole ordeal had begun. The small smile she gave her friend was heartwarming and bright.

“Anytime.”

“Leave it to Az to be such a neat freak.” Cassian quipped to himself as he sifted through the wardrobe. The clothing on the hangers was precise and neat, training leathers arranged by season, shirts ordered by type and color. Even the casual loungewear pants were neatly folded into thirds and stacked by color on the bottom shelf. “I bet he folds his socks too.”

With a flick of his fingers against the handle of a drawer he gained his answer. “Yup.”

Cassian gathered the haphazard pile he had tossed behind him as he selected items and tossed everything over one arm. Marching down the hall past the stairs, he didn’t even knock on the closed door he was headed for.

“Brother. Buddy. Pal.” He said jovially as he made his way across Azriel’s office and dumped his armload on the desktop. “Get dressed. We’re going on a field trip.”

Azriel eyed the pile of leathers in front of him with his neutral stoicism. “I’m working. Something you should be doing as well.”

With a sweep of one arm, Az deposited the pile onto the floor beside his chair and made to gather the stack of papers that had been strewn across his desk. 

“I know for a fact that you have deferred everything but your daily reports until further notice. The reports can wait. Our little field trip however, can’t.” Cassian’s lighthearted voice relayed his words but his eyes carried a hint of warning.

“Not now, Cassian.” Azriel countered with a warning of his own.

“Yes. Now.” His tone was no longer light.

Holding Cassian’s stare, Azriel didn’t respond. But when he moved to grab the fountain pen from its holder and continue on with whatever task he had in mind, Cassian took action. One large palm deposited itself over top the stack of papers as he leaned in closer to his brother across the desk.

“You scared her down there today. Not as much as you could have, but you still scared her.” Cassian’s voice carried a deadly timbre that most people only associated with the Spymaster. “I know that wasn’t your intention but given her history I don’t think you want to find out how easy it would be to go too far.”

Cassian straightened himself to standing, tugging at his own leathers to adjust them. “So you can sit here and brood and deal with the consequences or you can get yourself dressed and get your ass out the door.”

A deadly rumble of a growl came straight from Azriel’s chest. It was the realization of scaring Celeste that did the trick. The thought sickened him to his core. 

“Fucking asshole.” Az grunted as he pushed himself up and bent to gather the pile from the floor.

“Yeah, yeah. Fucking asshole, Illyrian bastard, ‘Ow, Cas you’re on my hair.’ I’ve heard it all before.” Cassian smirked as he mimicked his mate, his jovial attitude returning. “Get dressed. Time’s wasting.”

Less than an hour later, the two winged warriors touched down from flight into an open clearing deep in the Night Court woods. As Azriel shuffled his wings, Cassian rounded to face him.

“Well, let’s get the ball rolling. I’d like to be back in time for dinner.” He said, cracking his knuckles in a fist and rolling his shoulders. 

Azriel’s body was taut with energy, his shoulders practically hunched to his ears with tension but the deepening glower towards Cassian was the only movement he made. 

“Don’t make me tie you up and kidnap you until you are ready to cooperate.” Cassian winked. “I’d hate to resort to such measures.”

The growl that echoed through the trees had Cassian crouching slightly into defense, prepared for the blow he was sure was about to come. But nothing followed except for the groan of leather as Azriel gripped his damaged hands into fists at his sides. 

He waited one beat, then two. The shadows were creating a small breeze with all the whipping around they were doing between them, but Azriel remained motionless. 

“It’s for your own good and you know it.”

Silence.

Azriel didn’t want to be here. He didn’t care if it was for his own good like Cassian said. He didn’t want to play this game, he just wanted to be left alone. He wanted to stew in the roiling thoughts inside his own head that he had always been prone to escaping in. That escape felt comfortable and familiar even if the thoughts themselves were eating him from the inside. 

“Take it out on me now. Or keep on like you are and you’ll have her running scared,” Cassian remarked, no tease within his tone and with a dangerous glint in his eye. “Straight into the arms of the next male to warm her bed.”

There was no warning growl this time. In the blink of an eye, Azriel lowered himself and lunged straight for Cassian’s hips in an attempt to tackle him. With a swift dodge, Cas managed to miss the grab but he wasn’t quick enough to maneuver out of the path of the wing that slammed his shoulder and spun him around. Before he could even plant his feet to defend himself, Azriel’s fist met his cheekbone, snapping his neck viciously to one side. 

A wet rattling cough sounded as Cassian spat blood into the grass. “Ok, I probably deserved that.” Without wasting another second he was immediately on the defense. Azriel was pure fury wrapped in shadow as he struck again.

“I would never hurt her.” He gritted out through clenched teeth as he snatched Cas’s leathers at the shoulders and swept his legs out from under him with a sweeping kick. Pushing even more force through his arms, he slammed Cassian on his back onto the hard ground and topped it off with a punch straight to the gut. 

Cas wheezed as all the air left his lungs. “I know,” he coughed out winded before Az landed another strike to his already swelling jaw. Kicking out with all his might, he managed to hit Az squarely in the chest, tossing him back to land on his backside. 

Azriel was on his feet again in a flash. Around and around they brawled, occasionally grappling on the ground after one of them had been pinned. No more words were needed, just the sounds of their exertion and growls of injury rang through the clearing. 

Eventually Azriel had Cassian pinned on his back, knees planted firmly on top of his shoulders. As he pulled back his arm preparing to land another blow he suddenly lost all steam and tucked in his wings as he flopped to the side, rolling onto his back. Azriel lay there, gasping for breath through a busted lip and one working nostril, the other clotted with blood and well on its way to being swollen. Cassian remained beside him sprawled out on the grass, silent.

“I scared her.” Az broke the silence, staring above him toward the sky at the tree tops. 

“It can still be fixed.” Cassian replied, still unmoving.

Even Azriel’s shadows were tired, laying perfectly still like a cloak tossed over his front. His heavy sigh had them scattering like the seeds from a wishing flower. 

Az rolled his neck to peer over at his brother. “What if it can’t be though?”

“She’ll come around. She just needs time.” Cassian swiveled his own gaze to his brother. 

“Not just that. I mean her memory – what if,” Azriel paused, gathering his shortened breath as that chasm deep inside him spasmed. “What if it can’t be fixed without a mating bond?”

Cassian pushed himself up to sit. “What? Az, brother, this didn’t happen because you two don't have a mating bond. Don’t think like that.”

“But what if it can’t be fixed without one? Remember what Feyre told us about under the mountain? When she died, she held onto that bond and that was before she even knew it was there.” Azriel’s throat felt like it was closing up and the shadows began their swirling movements once more as he pulled himself up to sit as well. “What if I were able to give Celeste her memories back with a bond?”

Cassian ran a rough hand through his disheveled hair. This wasn’t his forte. He was the Lord of Bloodshed, a slayer of enemies. The intricacies of magic wasn’t something he had the confidence in to give Az the answers he wanted. 

“Helion will be able to tell us something surely. He is the SpellCleaver after all.” He sighed.

The birdsong had returned to the clearing after their raucous battle and the lull in conversation amplified their songs. Azriel sat hugging his knees, staring unfocused at the ground before his feet. He was trying not to pin all his hopes on the outcome of Helion’s arrival, but if he couldn’t get any information from him, Az was at a loss. He felt like he was failing his wife, his sweet Celeste. Due to her history and where her mind was stuck in time, she had woken up terrified of him. He didn’t know what to do with that. The urge to comfort her, to take her into his arms and assure her she was safe, was all he could think about. That would only terrify her more. She didn’t know him and finding out he was her husband had made the whole situation worse. He was a stranger in her eyes. 

“I think she was relieved.” Az choked out past the tightness of his throat. “When I told her there was no mating bond. I’m a stranger to her Cas.”

“She needs time.” Cas repeated his earlier sentiment. “She has had a lot of information thrown at her in a short amount of time. It’s not just you who feels like a stranger to her. It’s not just all these new faces she woke up to. She probably feels like a stranger to herself too. To find out she has a life she doesn't remember? To not have any recollection of all the choices she made that led her into that life? That’s got to be a serious mind fuck. She doesn’t know who that Celeste is.”

He had spent so much time grappling with how to reconcile the fact that they were all strangers to her that Azriel hadn’t really considered she was also a stranger to herself. He had focused so much on her fear and his grief that it didn’t click until now. 

“What if this time she chooses differently?” Az’s voice hardly above a whisper as that chasm yawned painfully, stealing his breath away. “What if this time she doesn’t choose me?”

“She hasn’t run yet.” Cassian answered with a soft smile. At his brother’s apparent confusion he continued. “Celeste could have run for the hills as soon as she realized the situation she was in. She trusts Nesta now, she could have begged her for sanctuary anytime in the past few days. She could have left that house for somewhere she felt safer already. There are a thousand choices she could have made since waking up that she didn’t make. Something inside is telling her to hold out and see where she lands even if she doesn’t realize it yet.”

Azriel contemplated his words in silence, the look on his face told Cassian he wasn’t quite convinced.

“Do you still love her?” He asked.

“Of course I do.” Az scoffed.

Cas nodded knowingly at his answer. “The Celeste you fell in love with is still there. And the Azriel she fell in love with is still here too.”

The day had progressed much faster than most of the previous ones. Probably due to the fact that Celeste had actual tasks to complete instead of roaming around the townhouse. Nesta had graciously accompanied her to the healer’s clinic earlier that morning before jetting off to do some much needed errands. Celeste felt a bit like a burden for having taken up all of Nesta’s time over the past week. She was still sleeping at Celeste’s side, although now at least she had moved from the armchair into the more than ample bed. 

She hadn’t recognized anyone upon arriving at the clinic, hoping to at least see Marin or Selah who she had been acquainted with in the couple days after waking up. The faces were all new to her however, but they all knew her considering she was their boss. The title felt strange to Celeste, the thought of managing so many people and schedules and needs was overwhelming. Quickly though she was set to task and was able to set her thoughts to the job at hand rather than her own swirling thoughts.

A positively tiny healer by the name of Elora had suggested that Celeste could start on inventory since it was due to be done in the next month or so anyway. She was provided with a list, strangely written out in her own hand, and shown to the back room. 

The walls were filled with glass fronted cabinets and open shelving of all kinds. Mismatched in color and height, they were arranged in whatever way could be fit. Deciding to start from the left most side of the room she began. By lunchtime she was no further than the third cabinet down, the depths of the shelves inside each cabinet seeming to hold a neverending assortment. It didn’t help that healers were constantly in and out of the door in search of their needed items causing Celeste to backtrack and amend her previous counts. 

Just a couple hours later, she tucked the list back into the office that she was told was hers and set herself on the bench outside to wait for Nesta. She had said she would return by now to walk her home but she was still nowhere in sight. The sun warmed Celeste’s skin and the sounds of the movements of downtown lulled in the background of her thoughts. With no task to complete now they had begun ramping back up to full swing. 

Slipping in the door once more, she found Elora and pulled her aside. “Would you please let Nesta know I headed back already.”

Elora gave her a wide eyed stare. “Are you sure? She might worry.”

“I can make it back home on my own,” Celeste answered politely. “It’s really not hard. I remember the way.”

Elora just gave her a nod and went on to her next patient.

Celeste did remember the way, at least she was pretty sure she did. Once she got out of the downtown proper she knew it was just a curving road along the outskirts until she reached her street. She eyed the posts on the corner closest to the clinic and pulled at her memory of earlier this morning. 

Yes, we definitely came from that street. And then a right at the next one I believe.

Confident in her path, Celeste set out. It wasn’t long before her thoughts began getting louder and she found it hard to block them out completely. Letting herself pick them apart a little at a time while she took in her surroundings, she carried on over the cobblestones. 

First and foremost in her mind was the incident from when she had wandered the house. Stumbling upon Azriel by surprise was bad enough, but the revelation that he was her husband still made her reel if she thought about it too long. She had not spent much time in his company outside of shared meals and so she hardly knew anything else about him other than what her friends had relayed to her. She had found that Nesta’s words still rang true. Stoic? Check. Kind? As far as she could tell, but she had spent zero time alone with him. Truly loved her? 

She shook that thought away before she could pry at it too deeply. Celeste couldn’t stomach the crawling feeling that it gave her in her gut. It wasn’t that Azriel was bad looking, he was actually quite beautiful. But love? How could anyone love someone so damaged as her? She was afraid to be alone, afraid of males in general, afraid of getting hurt. How could that attract love?

That is the old you, the you from before. You are a different person now, you just don’t remember.

Celeste shook that incessant thought from her brain once more. She didn’t feel like it was the old her. How could it be? How could she now be a different person if she didn’t remember anything about becoming that person?

That spiral of a thought made her pause before letting it slip away. Her brain was fuzzy with too much thinking and she glanced up at her surroundings once more to make sure she was still on the right path. But she wasn’t. Or at least she didn’t think so.

The building before her wasn’t once they had passed this morning, or was it? The gray stone front and full holly bushes out front were generic enough but also oddly familiar. She spun around to take in the rest of the street but before she could get enough of a look, a voice called out to her.

“Celeste!” Nesta called out breathlessly. “Gods spare me!” she gasped as she bent over, hands to knees catching her breath. “You scared me to death, I’ve been running around for three blocks looking for you.”

“Sorry, Nes.” Celeste replied sincerely. “I really thought I could get myself home. I guess I got distracted.” She flashed Nesta a lopsided smile of apology.

“It’s alright. I found you. Thankfully before I had to employ help.” She panted as she righted herself. “Azriel would have never forgiven me. Let’s keep it between us ok?”

At the mention of Azriel, Celeste’s smile faltered and she gave Nesta a quick nod. Nesta’s gaze had shifted before she could see it however, drifting up to the building they still stood in front of.

A frown of thought appeared across her face as she looked at Celeste once more. “Did you mean to come here?”

It was Celeste’s turn to frown. “No, I got distracted and I was just trying to figure out where I was.”

“Strange.” Nesta said wistfully.

“Why is it strange?”

“Just that you would end up here without meaning to. You used to live here. You don’t remember anything about that at all?”

Celeste peered at the building once more trying to unearth that earlier feeling that it looked oddly familiar, but the feeling slipped through her mind like smoke as she tried to grasp at it. 

“No. Nothing.”

“Yeah, you lived here before you and Az were married. I’m pretty sure it was the only place you lived in Velaris before you met all of us.”

Celeste remained staring at the building, trying to imagine herself walking from the lobby doors and carrying out her day to day life, but she had so little idea of what that life actually looked like.

Nesta saw the thick look of concentration on Celeste’s face. “We can go up and see your old apartment if you want. Maybe it would trigger something for you.”

They had been trying unsuccessfully over the past couple days to see if random things could pull forward any of her locked memories. Nesta had even had her read books they had finished hoping maybe even just the plots would ring a bell. 

“We can’t just go knocking on people’s doors asking to peruse their home, Nes.” Celeste giggled at the thought.

“We don’t have to,” Nesta started. “You own the building, you can do whatever you want. Besides, your old apartment is an office anyway so we wouldn’t be barging in or anything.”

“I – own the building?” Celeste stared at her, openmouthed. “And why is my apartment an office? I’m so confused.” 

“Well, technically Az bought it for you. And It’s not just an apartment building anymore. It’s a sanctuary for females escaping violence.” Nesta’s face softens. “You wanted to put it to good use. So you made it a place where they could transition safely into a new life.”

Tears sprang immediately to Celeste’s eyes. This building before her was the start of a new life for others like her. She did this.

“Did-” she choked out. “Did Azriel buy the building so I could do this?” She gestured with her hand toward the building front.

“Well, not exactly.” Nesta’s face twisted as she hesitated. “I don’t know if it's my place to tell you.”

“Whose place would it be Nes? This is my life we are talking about. I want to know.” Celeste demanded.

“I know, honey. It’s just – it feels so personal. But you are right. It’s your life.” Nesta’s face softens as she sighs. “Az bought you the building a few years after you two got together. Even after you moved in with him, you kept secretly renewing the lease on your apartment. You didn’t want to let it go. When it was sold to a buyer who was going to demolish it, Az doubled their offer and bought the building.”

The apparent look of confusion across Celeste’s face had Nesta reaching out, placing a gentle hand on her elbow. 

“You always wanted to make sure you had a place to go. If you ever wanted to leave, you didn’t want to be stuck. He knew about the apartment the whole time, so when the building was being sold he made sure you would always have it.” 

Celeste’s tears were back with a vengeance now, leaking steadily down her face. This revelation rocked against all the previous thoughts in her mind, the fear since waking, the suspicion of Azriel, the worry that her life wasn’t what it seemed. It shook her to her core. 

She turned to Nesta, eyes still glistening. “There’s one more place I want to go.”

Taglist - @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos @pit-and-the-pen @prythianpages

@weekendlusting @sarawritestories @ceoofyearning @i-am-infinite @tothestarsandwhateverend

[no-damsel]

Just friends

Warnings: Swearing, minor violence

Chapter three

“Son of a bitch!”

“Stop,” you hiss, smacking Adam’s hand away from your face. “Trust me, I’m fine.”

You had gotten in between two drunken assholes when they started fighting in front of you while you were collecting dirty glasses from tables. You ended up getting punched twice in the face since both men swung at the same time; however, the fight immediately stopped when they realized they’d hit the wrong person.

Two bouncers threw them out, and that was the end of it until Adam got involved. He got riled up, thinking he was going to have both of them thrown in jail.

“Is there a problem here?” Jasper walks into the staff room and says, “I heard there was some kind of altercation.”

“I got caught up in a bar fight; I’m fine.”

Since you were facing Adam, the owner couldn’t see how swollen your eye had become or the blood gushing from your eyebrow.

Adam steps up towards the owner, but before he can say anything, you lightly shove him in the chest, gaining his attention again. “Tommy, I’m fine. Take a walk or go back to work.”

He lowers his head slightly. “I’m sorry, boss, I just hate seeing a woman getting beat on, you know? It sets me off.”

Jasper pats him on the shoulder and says, “I get it.”

At this point, you turn to toss the tissue in your hand into the trash and go to get another one. “I think Angel should go home,” Adam says. “Have you seen her face? It’s a mess.”

“Angel, let me see.”

You turn and look Jasper in the face, and his jaw clenches. You were under no false illusion that he cared for you personally; rather, he cared about how you looked. He makes a tsk sound. “This just won’t do. Princess,” Jasper clicks his fingers at a blonde dancer when she enters the room. “Go and find Gregg for me; tell him I need a word with him. Tommy, go back to work.”

“I’m not excusing him shouting his mouth off.” You top off the whisky in Jasper's glass with your free hand while the other holds ice over your eye. “But one of the dancers told me his dad used to beat on his mom and sister as kids; he was just being protective. Which is more than I can say for the pathetic excuse of bouncers who let a fight like that break out.”

You felt guilty saying that Bob Ruzek was a good man, but you needed a cover story to excuse ‘Tommy’s’ behavior.

“No sweat, baby,” he motions for you to sit beside him. “Have you thought about my offer? More money, fewer late nights.”

“Why did you pick me?”

Jasper chuckles. “You’re the only one in here I trust to have my back.”

Adam and Antonio had been undercover for almost three weeks, and they were so close to making an arrest; they had found the stash house. They now just need to catch him handing the drugs over to his dealers. But now, his newest revelation was something you needed to discuss with Voight as soon as possible.

“Gregg,” Jasper says, standing up.

“The blonde girl said you wanted to see me.”

You hold back a snort. Antonio would go out of his way to call the dancers by their show names; whenever he heard someone being called Princess, Heaven, or Angel, he’d screw his face up.

Jasper pulls multiple twenty-dollar bills out of his pocket and hands them to Antonio. “Take our angel to the emergency room. Make sure they take good care of her.”

“The bleeding has stopped,” Antonio says, tossing the bloodied cotton ball into the trash. “I don’t think it will scar; just leave a nasty cut for a couple of weeks.”

“Thank you.”

Instead of taking you to the emergency room, Antonio took you back to his apartment to clean up your wound. If you went to the hospital, you’d need to use your real name, which could blow the whole operation if Jasper caught wind.

Antonio disappears from his bathroom and reappears moments later, holding a bag of ice in one hand and a hand towel in the other. He says nothing as he places ice on the material, then holds it up to your swollen eye, causing you to flinch.

“Sorry,” he mumbles.

Your fingers brush against his when you take the ice from him. You felt slightly uncomfortable; Antonio always seems wary of you. As if he’s expecting you to somehow betray him.

He leans back against the wall with his arms crossed. “Do you think Jasper bought the cover story you said about Tommy?”

“I think so. Although Adam looked pretty pissed,”

Antonio motions for you to follow him into the living room. “Can I ask you something? Sorry, gotta take this.”

He walks into a bedroom you presume is his own to answer his mobile and starts talking in Spanish. Every so often, his voice would become louder, so you would assume he was mad at something. You were grateful he cleaned you up but didn’t want to impose, and you would probably leave once his call was finished.

Sitting on the couch, you glance around his apartment and notice the framed pictures on the table. One stands out more than the other; on one side of the frame is a happy-looking young girl surrounded by balloons and banners with the number eighteen on them, and the next one is Antonio standing between the same girl and a young boy with his arms wrapped around them. All three of them were smiling brightly.

Hearing the sound of a door closing, you look up and see Antonio coming out of the bedroom. Before you can say anything, he shoves his phone into his pocket and says, “Sister.”

“Are these your kids?”

He nods.

“They are beautiful.”

He picks up another picture frame and sits down beside you. The kids look younger in this picture, and there is a brunette woman hugging them. “That’s my sister Gabriela, my daughter Eva, and my son Diego.” Smiling, he places the picture back down. “Do you have kids?”

“None biologically, but I’ve been raising my nephew Eli since he was two; he’s just turned seven. The only downside to being undercover is being away from him.”

“Yeah, I get you. When Laura filed for divorce, she took the kids with her, and it killed me. Eva did come and live with me for a while, but she’s now at college, and Diego only stays with me the first two weeks of the month.”

It took you by surprise that he was sharing any personal information with you since you didn’t really know each other.

“Where’s Eli now?”

“In our home with my dad. My dad’s a retired detective; he moved back to Chicago to help me with Eli.” You trace your finger over the thin red bracelet, a friendship bracelet your nephew made. “Is Gabriela your only sister?”

“Just the one sister,” he says. Antonio relaxes his arm over the back of the arm chair. “Gabby is younger than me and is incredibly strong-willed. She is a paramedic firefighter.”

You smile seeing how his face lights up when he talks about her. “Does she work in Chicago too?”

“She did. She moved to Puerto Rico a couple of years ago. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I’m the youngest of three girls. My oldest sister, Cherry, lives in London.”

“What does she do?”

“She’s a sonographer. She moved to England to live with her husband and her stepson.”

“So I’m guessing she’s not Eli’s mom?”

“No, he’s my sister Amber’s son.”

He laughs, “You’re kidding me? Cherry, Amber, and Viola?”

“Yeah, yeah. My mom named us after her favorite colors.”

Antonio senses your change in emotion and, in a lighter tone, says, “So, does Amber live in the city?”

“Amber moved to New York when she was pregnant. She died five years ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says sincerely. “Eli is lucky to have you; not everyone is willing to raise a kid; that’s not there.”

Before you can respond, your work mobile vibrates in your pocket. You answer the call and put the phone on loudspeaker. “Hey, I’m guessing you got my voicemail?”

“Yeah, I did. You okay? Adam said you got caught in a fight, and Dawson left with you.”

“I’m fine.”

When Hank doesn’t seem to believe you, Antonio speaks up: “Hank, we are sitting in my apartment; the bleeding has stopped.”

“Okay, good. So what was so urgent?”

You lick at your dry lips, mentally reading yourself to share the information you learned right before the fight.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

before I go to bed and spend tomorrow doing mostly spreadsheets (it’s fun I swear I love logistics I’m doing it entirely for fun and restarting a game bc I find making detailed spreadsheet plans that enjoyable and I realised I could get some cool mods bc I don’t care about balance) I really appreciate that while mouthwashing acknowledges and condemns curly's enabling behaviour, it never presents his disabilities or his abuse as some sort of just punishment. his extremely naïve faith in jimmy hurt everyone and was born out of a patronising misogynistic worldview where he assumed anya was mentally unwell before she was a victim but what happens to him is not a fair consequence, it’s just horrible and senseless. even if it happening made curly aware of the suffering anya did- the obvious parallels between the rape and himself being forced to take his pain medication are something I’m sure crossed his mind in the months he spent trying to focus on anything but pain- that in no way is ever framed as a good thing even if it technically made him a better person in some respects bc under No Circumstances is abuse ever justified or okay. curly is not a great person, but you do not have to be a perfect victim to be a victim. no one deserves the humiliation and violation jimmy put others through, not even jimmy himself. curly made many mistakes, and was a deeply flawed human- to think otherwise is to fall into jimmy's ableist and dehumanising obsession he uses to justify his abuse of curly- but he was not malicious. the patriarchal support of abuse eats its own, any man who falls outside of the cishetero able bodied white supremacist ideas of man are victims of it. this is not a hashtag girlboss moment, and is tragic and horrible in its own right bc abuse is always horrible, even if men aren’t the primary intended victims and even if those men uphold the patriarchy. bc people can be victims and also be deeply harmful to each other. the lines between the misogynistic sexual abuse towards anya and the violent medical abuse towards curly are blurred on purpose- bc being disabled means curly is no longer protected by male solidarity when the idea of maleness we have excludes disabled people. the parallels between ableism and misogyny are a very prominent theme I don’t see discussed much about the game, and them not framing curly as in any way deserving of his injuries nor the ableist abuse against him is so important for that point. like, curly sucks in a lot of ways, but he’s still a human being, and no human being deserves violation of any kind, whether they’re dehumanised for being disabled or for being a woman.

[fan-fantasies]

Care For You

A/N: surprise! I’m avoiding my issues with real men by fantasizing about my fictional men so please enjoy the product of that! Slight enemies to lovers (which isn’t easy cuz Osferth is such a sweetheart) but it’s my favorite trope!

Warnings: swearing, insults, unprotected sex and slight choking, people walking in on them

Pairing: Osferth x fem!reader

The sun was slowly setting over Rumcofa when a watchman from the river yelled to Uhtred.

“Lord! We’ve spotted a ship we cannot identify!”

“Soldiers to the riverside!” Uhtred called to his men.

He and his merry misfits waited on the dock to see who it could be. As the ship came closer, a familiar face stood up.

“Is that Eadith?” Finan asked, standing taller.

“It is!”

“Lord, we are from Frankia looking for safe passage. We have coin to pay the toll!” She called out with a smile.

Uhtred and his men were thrilled to see her.

“Don’t let her fool you, lord. It is no more than tin,” you joked, popping up beside her.

Finan looked at Osferth who already had a scowl on his face. The Irishman elbowed him in the side and chuckled.

Uhtred helped the two of you off the ship and escorted you to the great hall along with his men.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“We have been studying healing in Frankia and we heard that Rumcofa has become riddled with diseases of all kinds,” Eadith answered.

“Well that would be Osferth’s fault,” Finan laughed.

“That wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest,” you smirked. “Or perhaps it would since I’m sure you’re still a virgin, baby monk.”

“Didn’t feel like staying in Frankia?” He snapped at you.

“And miss out on seeing my favorite warriors?” You asked, throwing your arm around Finan. “I think not.”

“Do not listen to him, y/n. We are glad to have you,” Sihtric smiled.

“Speak for yourself,” Osferth mumbled under his breath before leaving the hall.

You had to admit he had grown into quite the fine young man, but his attitude was as sour as ever and you loved to poke at him.

“Why such hostility?” Eadith asked Finan quietly.

“They want to hump each other but neither will admit it. So they do this instead,” he sighed. “Stubborn bastards.”

“We will celebrate properly later but we have much to do to prepare for the festival,” Uhtred said.

“Yes and we must get settled,” Eadith said, looking at you. You followed her to the small inn where they informed you that they only had one small room left.

“You take it! I’ll stay with someone else,” you insisted.

“But-“

“No buts! You’re here for important business and you’ll need a place to rest,” you reminded her, referring to a letter the Lady Aethelflaed had sent to you in Frankia.

“Fine, but go straight to Uhtred and tell him you need a place to sleep,” she said.

“Yes, lady,” you said while rolling your eyes playfully. You sought out the lord and found him at the ale house inspecting the latest brew for the festival.

“Uhtred! May I have a moment?” You asked.

“For you, you may have many moments,” he joked.

“It seems your inn is full and I gave Eadith the last room so I’ll be needing a place to sleep,” you informed him.

“Well I’m sure Sig and Sihtric wouldn’t mind you staying with them. I doubt they’d even notice another person,” he laughed.

“Any other options?”

“Finan and Ingrith already have guests and I would offer my own, but-“

“The princess is coming, say no more,” you gave him a soft smile. “So that leaves…”

“Osferth!” Uhtred said with a huge smile as the young man in question came through the door.

“I’d rather sleep with the pigs,” you grunted.

“I doubt even they would have you,” Osferth snapped.

“Kids, play nice,” Uhtred sighed. “You will stay with Osferth, end of discussion.”

“What? Lord!”

“End of discussion, Osferth,” he said in a serious tone.

“Well are you going to show me the way or do I have to guess which place is yours?” You asked. He said nothing but left while expecting you to follow.

His little house was nicer than you expected it to be. It was simple but it suited him. It didn’t seem like as much of a bachelor pad as you would’ve expected and it made you wonder if he had a woman in his life. You quickly rushed that thought from your mind because you didn’t like the jealousy bubbling up inside you.

“There’s a small makeshift bed over there for guests so…help yourself,” he mumbled.

“What a shame, I thought we’d be sharing,” you said with a wink and a laugh.

“Not if you begged me,” he scoffed. “Although I’m sure it would sound nice coming from you.”

“Like I’d ever beg you for anything.”

He crossed the room in only a few steps and bumped his shoulder against yours as he passed, stopping briefly at your side.

“I’m sure there are ways to get you to beg,” he whispered in your ear before walking out the door.

What a cocky asshole he had grown into; you couldn’t say you disliked it though. It lit a fire in your belly that you wanted to ignore.

Osferth left and went to find Finan and Sihtric who were searching for Aethelstan who was probably hiding from his chores.

“So, it must be weird seeing y/n after all this time,” Sihtric commented.

“Why would it be weird?” The younger man asked.

“We know you were upset when she left with Eadith so I’m sure there’s some unresolved feelings there,” Finan smirked.

“I was not upset and there are no feelings!”

“You don’t have to lie to us, baby monk,” the Irishman chuckled.

“Has she grown into a beautiful lady? Yes. Is she still the same annoying brat from all those years ago? It would appear so. So that’s all there is to it,” Osferth insisted.

“She just likes to play with you,” Sihtric sighed.

“Yes well I don’t enjoy it.”

“Perhaps you’d enjoy it if she played with you in a different way,” Finan said, jabbing him with his elbow. Osferth replied with a scowl but deep down he knew his friends were right- about everything.

Uhtred held a small feast to welcome the two of you back. You found that you actually enjoyed the townsfolk of Rumcofa. It was nice to be back with your friends, even if Osferth’s weird stares had been throwing you off all night.

“Lady, I am glad you have found your way to our humble town,” a man said, taking the empty seat next to you. “I am Ivar.”

“Hello, Ivar; it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you smiled. “I’m quite enjoying my time here so far.”

“You’ve come at the perfect time. Blood month festival is always a momentous occasion,” he said. He scooted closer to you and slid you another cup of ale.

He was attractive, you couldn’t deny that. You knew Uhtred would not allow any sleazy men in your company so you hoped he was decent. What harm could it do to entertain him?

“Perhaps we will be able to celebrate the festivities together,” you said, taking a sip of the ale he offered. His eyes lit up at your words and you laughed. The two of you were unaware of the eyes that were watching you with much scrutiny.

“I would enjoy that very much, lady-“ he leaned in closer so that no one but you could hear- “perhaps there are some other festivities that we could enjoy together as well.”

You were surprised by his words but you were more surprised by the knife that was stabbed into the table between the two of you. You jumped apart from one another quickly, looking up and realizing it was Osferth standing over you.

“To cut your meat, lady,” he sneered while pointing to the knife. He stormed off, leaving you angry and Ivar confused.

“He should probably be more careful next time,” he mumbled more to himself.

You wanted to chase after him and demand a reason for his behavior but you did not have the energy to deal with him.

You continued on with some small talk before you realized that as handsome and forward as Ivar was, he was actually incredibly boring. You finished your meal rather quickly and excused yourself from the table. He offered to walk you back but you politely declined, feigning exhaustion from your long journey.

The walk to Osferth’s was not long but it was enough time for your anger to creep back in. You slammed his door shut when you entered, causing him to look up from whatever book he was reading.

“You were a reckless idiot back there,” you snapped.

You began to take off your top layer of clothing to get ready for bed. You’d spent enough time around Uhtred and his men that being shy was no longer a thing.

“I was reckless? I’d consider you the reckless one if you’re going to sleep your way through Rumcofa,” he replied.

“Are you dense? It was one man and we were simply talking! It was not as if he was going to take me right there on the table in that moment!”

Osferth’s jaw tensed when that image flashed in his head.

“I saw how you were acting, like a bitch in heat.”

You stormed over to him and ripped the book from his hands, throwing it across the room. He stood up from his seat, fuming.

“I should cut your tongue out for saying such a thing,” you growled. “I’m so sick of your holier than thou attitude! You’re no better than anyone else.”

“I’m better than you,” he sneered.

“Is that so? I’m fairly certain it was I that saved your ass in our last battle. And it was I that convinced Uhtred to allow you to join us in the first place; what a mistake that was!”

“Is that why you’ve always been mean to me? You regret having me around?”

“I’m not mean! I simply tease you like Finan and Sihtric do!” You defended yourself. You truly never meant any malice toward him.

“It is different with them.”

“Why? Because they are men?” You asked.

“Yes!- well, no!”

“Are you sure about that?” You laughed. “You’re no better than me just because you’re a man.”

“Well at least I stuck around! I didn’t run off and come back years later pretending as if nothing happened after abandoning my friends!”

His words made you stop in your tracks. You left with Eadith to gain more knowledge and secure your own coin. Uhtred encouraged you to do so so you knew it was not him that was angry with you for leaving.

“I was not aware that you were so upset over my leaving,” you mumbled.

“I was not.”

“It sounds like you were,” you said with a small smirk. “Do you care for me, Osferth?”

“In your dreams,” he scoffed. His heart was racing and he was afraid he had been discovered.

“Oh in my dreams you do much more than care for me,” you joked.

His eyes widened at your admission and he was left speechless. You noticed the change in demeanor and decided to test his limits.

“Do you wish it were you?”

“What are you talking about?”

You moved closer to him so that you were nearly pressed against him.

“Do you wish it were you whispering dirty things in my ear? Do you wish you were the one taking me on a table at any given moment?” You asked seductively.

He gulped and refused to look at you. You could feel something against your leg so you looked down and noticed he had gotten hard beneath his robes.

“I knew you cared for me,” you chuckled, looking at him with a smirk. He finally looked at you and you could tell he was annoyed.

“Just because I wish to hump you doesn’t mean I care for you,” he scoffed.

“Do something about it then,” you said. “You may bed me if you wish.”

Once again, he found himself speechless. You were testing him but he couldn’t tell if you really wanted it. He allowed himself to stay in his head for too long before he heard you laugh. You turned away from him and went to the table where you had tossed your belongings.

“I thought just as much. Perhaps I should go back and find Ivar. I’m certain he would not hesitate if offered to-“

Before you could finish, his back was pressed against yours and he had a hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to look at him.

“Do not say his name again,” he growled.

He slammed his lips to yours in a feverish kiss of passion. He turned your around and you slid onto the table, welcoming him between your legs. His hands were rough as they grabbed at your hips, sliding your slip around your waist.

“You are far too dressed,” you sighed as you pawed at his robes. He threw his robes aside and dropped his trousers.

“Your turn,” he chuckled as he pulled your underwear down your legs and threw them behind him.

You pulled the slip over your head and set it aside. You took a moment to admire his body just as he did with yours. He hooked his arms beneath your thighs as you braced your hands behind you. He slid his cock through your folds and chuckled.

“Already so wet, lady. Is fighting foreplay for you,” he asked.

“Only when it’s with you,” you admitted. His eyes snapped to yours and he could tell there was sincerity in your words.

He slid his cock into you slowly, allowing you time to adjust. He waited until you told he was good to move before sliding out and thrusting his hips back into yours.

You couldn’t contain your moans and whimpers as he began to fuck you relentlessly. He enjoyed watching you fall apart in front of him, knowing he was the one bringing you this pleasure.

“I should bring you back into the hall and let everyone see what a whiny little mess you are on my cock,” he growled. Your cunt clenched around him and he chuckled. “You like that, huh? Want everyone to see who you belong to?”

“Y-yes,” you managed to say as he hammered into you. He released one of your legs so he could circle your clit, bringing you closer to your release.

“Say it; say who you belong to,” he grunted.

“You, Osferth! I belong to you!” You cried as your climax washed over you. He kissed you once more to swallow your moans and his as he spilled his seed inside of you.

He broke the kiss only so the two of you could catch your breath. He rested his forehead on yours and you enjoyed the intimacy more than you cared to admit.

“I do care for you,” he whispered. “It pained me when you left so easily.”

“Uhtred encouraged me to leave and I believed there was no hope that you’d ever return my feelings so I fled from them,” you told him.

“Your feelings?” He looked into your eyes with hope.

“Why do you think I always teased you?” You asked with a laugh. “That’s my way of flirting I suppose.”

“Couldn’t have just stuck with ‘you’re handsome and I like you’?” He laughed.

“I suppose that may have been easier,” you agreed.

“No matter. Now we just have to make up for lost time,” he said, leaning in to kiss you again.

*bang!*

“Aye! We were told to make sure you didn’t kill each other yet!” Finan laughed as he burst through the door.

“Oh my god!” Eadith shrieked as she averted her eyes. Sihtric took in the room, clothes strewn about before turning around, laughing as he left.

“Told you they wanted to hump!” Finan laughed as Osferth did his best to shield you from their eyes.

“We’re alive! You may go now!” He yelled, very annoyed at the intrusion.

“Uhtred owes me 10 silver,” Finan said as he took his leave, closing the door behind him.

You let out a sigh of relief but you both jumped when you heard tapping on the window. You turned to see Finan’s stupid face in the window.

“And close your curtains!”

You covered yourself with your slip as Osferth went and pulled the curtains shut. He turned around to look at you and after a moment of silence, you both burst into a fit of laughter.

He came back over to you and helped you off the table, gently taking you in his arms.

“To bed, then?” He asked with a small smile.

“I’m not tired.”

“I didn’t say it was to sleep,” he smirked.

He did say that you had to make up for lost time, and that you did.

[zoeysdamn]

Bloodied petals | Xavier Thorpe x reader | Part.5

Summary: Heartbroken by Xavier’s rejection, you know that your days are numbered now. Enid has your back as a dutiful roommate and manages to convince you to go to the Rave’n – even if it’s the last place where you want to be. Maybe some unexpected bonding time with Bianca cannot be that bad, before some terrible news is delivered.

Warnings: angst™, mentions of blood, swearing, underage drinking, description of a panic attack. English isn’t my mother tongue.

A/N: I know I’ve promised some fluff in this chapter buuuutttt this is already so long like omg so, sorry guys you’ll have to wait for the next one :DD

[Masterlist] [Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4]

It was a weird feeling to know that you were going to die soon. In the two days following Xavier’s rejection, you had basically locked yourself in your room, a basin always at hand’s reach. You didn’t even try to hide it anymore when Wednesday was around, besides you were kind of busy throwing up every single flower and petal to care about her occasional pitiful looks. She wasn’t particularly having remorses, but the knowledge that her roommate was down a dreadful path didn’t please her either. You had been kind to her without being too nosy, so she tolerated you. But you couldn’t care less about Wednesday Addams’ second thoughts at the moment. All of your chest and throat felt like a burning fire most of the time and it felt like the whole Nevermore glasshouse was growing in your lungs. 

In an attempt to try to delay the growth of the plants a little, you had concocted a potion you drank three times a day. There was no cure for Hanahaki disease, but it was still plants. So you had made a potion that would basically act like a weed killer. The taste was horrendous and it burned your throat almost as much as the flowers themselves, but at least it seemed to slow down their growth a little. It means that you still could pretend it was just the flu when you coughed during class and managed to hide away the flowers, but that you were curled up on your bed or over the toilets for the rest of the time. 

The tricky part was to hide it from Enid. You loved your other roommate, but she was so sweet and excited about the upcoming ball, you didn’t have the heart to tell her what was really going on. She wouldn’t be able to get it out of her mind and you didn’t want to burden her with it. You always managed to flee the room just in time when she was there and you felt the coughs starting to get stronger. Fortunately, she still didn’t notice anything. Although, you knew that at some point you would have to disclose the truth to her. So you had decided to tell everything to Enid after the Rave’n and the parents' weekend following. She surely had enough on her plate for the time being. Like, convincing Wednesday to go shopping for the upcoming ball. 

“C’mon, it’ll be a fun outing between roomies!” she said excitedly while Wednesday kept her unfazed expression. 

“I’d rather burn my own eyes with acid rather than mingle with teenagers ready to fight over a stupid piece of fabric.” 

From your bed, you rolled your eyes behind the book you were reading. On any other day, you would have chuckled at Wednesday’s antics, but the harsh tone she always used to answer Enid's kind ideas was starting to get on your nerves. Couldn’t she just say a plain no? 

Luckily, Enid had an optimistic personality, “Come ooooon, just one little shopping session between roomies, please please pleeaseee! I bet even Y/N thinks it’s a good idea, right Y/N?”

The sudden mention of your name in the discussion made you jump a little and you looked up from the pages. Enid looked at you expectedly, a large smile on her face. 

“I’m not going to the Rave’n,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. You wouldn’t give Wednesday the satisfaction of seeing you cry and an occasion to ramble again about how weak your feelings made you. This made Enid gasp. 

“What! Why?” 

“Don’t have a date, and don’t want to go,” you simply mumbled, not without giving a glance at the pigtailed girl. It wasn’t entirely her fault, you couldn’t manipulate Xavier’s feelings for you; still, you couldn’t help but feel bitter. 

Enid looked between the two of you and made a small “oh” in understanding. “But- but you don’t need a date to go!” she tried to reassure you, changing the subject quickly. “You can go on your own! Independent women don’t need a man to do what they want, right?”

You snickered at this, “Playing the feminist card won’t work this time Enid. I don’t want to go to have the whole school whispering at how pathetic I look on my own.”

Both of your roommates felt kind of sorry for you at that moment. Of course not, in the same way, Wednesday was more bored of this whole ordeal and was slightly saddened by the fact an acceptable roommate was turning bitter. It wasn’t a pretty colour on you and she might have lost a valuable ally. 

“Come on Y/N,” pleaded Enid again, “you don’t look so good these days, some fresh air could be good for you!” 

For a moment you felt the tip of your tongue burning with a witty comeback, something about her argument being not really convincing, but you retained yourself. Then you let out a long sigh. “Fine,” you conceded because it was hard to resist Enid’s pleading eyes, “but only because you need a fashion chaperone and you said please.”

“Yes!” squealed Enid, clapping her hands, “it’ll be so fun! I’m gonna tell Miss T we’re all going to Jericho, see you at the entrance in 10 minutes!”

She waltzed out of the room, grabbing her pink jean jacket on the way and blessedly unaware of the tension she left behind. Ignoring the heavy look of Wednesday you got up from the bed and started to put your shoes on. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to go to that stupid ball,” said Wednesday. Were that undertones of guilt you heard in her voice? 

“I don’t,” you groaned, “I just wished…you know what, forget it you wouldn’t get it anyway.” 

“If it’s about Xavier being my date then no need to be so petty about this,” she said rolling her eyes, “I’m just using the occasion to watch him and find out if he’s the monster or not.”

You let out a bitter laugh, flabbergasted by her words. “Do you realize how much worse it is? You know what I feel for Xavier, and you’re inviting him to interrogate him? Holy fuck.”

“I’m trying to stop a monster here Y/N,” she deadpanned flatly. “There’s no need for bitter behaviour.” 

Exhaling loudly through your nostrils, you turned to her with a harsh glare. “I’m not jealous of you, Wednesday. The only thing that makes me mad is the fact that Xavier accepted to go with you barely a minute after I confessed to him.”

This time Wednesday’s eyebrows rose up high, probably not expecting that. She had thought that you were only jealous of her and the proximity that her invitation to Xavier might imply to a random mind. Teenagers and young adults were guided by their primal emotions after all, but you were shaking all of her certainties. 

“I’m just heartbroken really,” you sighed while putting on your jacket, tears once again ready to flow, “so drop it, I’m just going to humour Enid and clear my head.”

Just as you were about to close the room’s door, you heard Wednesday speak again, “I don’t know much about romantic feelings, but I think you’re rightfully upset. Thorpe is a fool.” 

That made you pause for a moment, “Yeah, I know,” you breathed out quietly. 

That was the closest of a nice thing Wednesday could tell you. 

Unsurprisingly, your gothic roommate abandoned the rest of your odd trio in front of the clothes store a few minutes later. She had to snoop around god-knows-where, so it was just Enid and you. The werewolf looked around, barely containing her excitement or her shopping spree. You only browsed through the racks mind-absently, not really looking at the clothes or listening to her happy banter. Which she noticed. 

“Sooo, what’s with the long face?” she asked innocently. “You’re not one to usually skip parties.”

“I’m just not feeling like going this time, nothing big,” you mumbled. You hoped that Enid would drop the subject. She didn’t. 

“Is this…about Wednesday?” she dared to ask, and offered you a sorry smile when you whipped your head at her. “Is this because she invited Xavier? I know you’re close to him and–”

“This is not about Wednesday,” you snapped at her, irritably. Why did people keep assuming you had the role of the jealous bitch? 

Enid’s slight jump made you sigh; you shouldn’t have snapped at her like that. “Look, it’s just…I’m tired, okay? Besides, this isn’t about Wednesday, it’s about Xavier.”

Your roommate’s face suddenly lit up and she gasped, “You’re jealous of Xavier?? You mean you and Wednesday–”

You frowned while letting out a surprised laugh, “What? No! If anything, she’s more your type than mine.”

Enid’s cheeks lit up slightly, “She’s not!” she defended herself fiercely – too much to be honest. You chuckled; you definitely had to tease her about this later. 

“Your type involves two kinds of people: love-stuck but dumb gorgons and mysterious unfazed goth girls,” you said with a roll of your eyes. 

“This- this- this isn’t about me, don’t try to escape the subject!” she sputtered, cheeks flaming red. “And wait a minute? Did you say that the problem was Xavier? Oh my god,” she beamed, “did you finally realize that you loved him? That’s so great!!” 

Your face darkened at that and you cast your eyes elsewhere to hide your shame, “Not really no,” you whispered. “He doesn’t love me back.” 

“What??” screamed Enid, loud enough for a few other customers to glare at your pair. You threw them a sorry look before giving Enid a disapproving stare. “What?” she repeated, whisper-shouting this time, “what do you mean he doesn’t love you? He totally does!”

“Well, turns out he doesn’t,” you said in a sad tone you couldn’t hold back. “I kissed him and…and he told me that he doesn’t love me back, end of the story.” 

She stood there, mouth agape in utter shock. At her frozen face, you only shrugged weakly like it was nothing. 

“What? But how? This can’t be, you guys are like the most likely future couple in the whole school!”

Tears burned your eyes and you tried so hard to not let them fall. “Well, since he agreed to go to the Rave’n with Wednesday less than five minutes after I told him…guess it’s pretty much obvious.”

“He did WHAT?” shouted Enid, earning a few angry glares once more. But she couldn’t care less, she was furious. “And you were there??”

You nodded weakly. “I heard them, yeah.”

“That FUCKER, you just kissed him and confess to him and he has the audacity to say yes to another girl’s invite? Argh!” she ranted, throwing her hand in the air ragefully. “The nerve of that piece of shit!” 

“Woah Enid Sinclair, you kiss your dad with that mouth?” you chuckled, slightly taken aback by the loss of her temper. 

“Yeah and I have every right, I’m fucking mad at him Y/N!” she fumed, angrily putting back a dress she had been holding for that time. “He acted like a dick and now you’re miserable!” 

“It’s nothing Enid,” you mumbled. 

She grabbed your hand over the rack with pleading eyes. “He broke your heart Y/N, this isn’t nothing.” 

You gulped slowly, a single tear sliding down your cheek. Even with trembling lips, you managed to articulate something, “It’ll pass eventually.” Squeezing her hand lightly, you tried to give her the most reassuring look you could put on. 

The sad wincing she let out was heartbreaking, “Oh girl…”

Whipping your tears you refocused on the clothes on the rack. 

“So,” you said more lightly, clearly trying to change the subject, “what do you want to wear? I think you’ll look terrific in feathers.” 

The bone-crushing hug she tugged you in surprised you, almost squeezing all air out of you. Enid had come around the rack so quickly you hadn’t even noticed her coming over to tackle you in a bear hug. 

“Woah, calm down wolfie,” you chuckled weakly, “what with the sudden burst of affection?” 

Her laugh was muffled by the way her face was buried in your shoulder, “Don’t act so surprised, you know this was coming. This is your roommate’s heartbreak mandatory hug.” 

You wanted to reply something, but honestly, the words were stuck in your throat. Tears prevented you from saying anything. So instead, you returned the hug, hands gripping tightly Enid’s back. It was warm, friendly and frankly, the kindest thing someone had ever done to you for the past few days. You let yourself sink into the hug, letting its warmth envelop you in much-needed affection. When a small sob rocked your body, you realized how much you had craved that. 

Slightly tugging away from the hug, Enid took both of your hands, “Look I know everything feels like shit right now, but let me help you with this okay? Come to the ball, it’ll lift your spirit a little. Just between us girls, in our best outfits, drinking cheap cocktails, and dancing to lame electro music until our feet bleed, it’ll be fun!” 

Her joyful tone made you smile. In a way, it might be the last party you would attend…the disease was already quite serious, and now that Xavier had rejected you, the chances of healing had simply vanished away. So if you had not much longer to live, why not have the more fun you could? Why not experience everything you could since it’ll soon be over? One last party before the dark no matter how your chest ached. 

“Fuck Xavier and his ungrateful ass,” continued Enid, “you’re gonna have fun and enjoy this ball like the queen you are, okay roomie? And don’t you dare turn this down because I–”

“I’ll come,” you cut her off.

“Because believe m– you what?”

“I will come to the Rave’n,” you repeated with a weak but honest smile. “Independent women don’t need anybody, right?”

She beamed at you as she realized that you quoted her and brought you into another bone-crushing hug. Her heartwarming reaction made you laugh; she was right, you could use the Rave’n to change your mind, even if it wouldn’t be so easy. But Enid had this strange power of convincing people to do what was best for them. Maybe she was the witch in your dorm after all. 

Spending the rest of the day snooping around the shop and digging to find perfect outfits had the merit to alleviate your pain and forget about the flowers a little. This was all you could ask for these days. 

To say that you were excited about the Rave’n was an exaggeration. Three days or so before the ball, you had a newfound thrill about it thanks to Enid, but your mood had decreased in the meantime. First, because your health hadn’t gone better despite the potion you’ve been taking. It slowed down the growing process, sure, but weed killer was still poison. And second, words had spread that Xavier had dumped Wednesday for the Rave’n. This didn’t sadden you per se, but a small, naive part of yourself had secretly hoped that he would invite you instead. This was silly but for the briefest moment, you had thought that he would, at least because you were best friends. He didn’t. 

So it was half-heartedly that you applied some light make-up before the dance, your white outfit hanging on the door of your closet. Enid’s energy was barely enough to make you smile but you had promised her you would come. When her date came to pick her up at the door she gave you an excited wave of the hand, reminding you to find her later when you arrive at the party. She didn’t want to rush you or pressure you if you didn’t want to arrive this early, and you were grateful for that. The more time passed, the more your already thin will to go seemed to vanish. And yet, you sighed and grabbed your outfit with you to get changed in the bathroom. While you had felt empty most of the day, something tiny and warmth erupted in you when you got a look at yourself in the mirror once changed. You had picked long white palazzo pants, with an equally white corset top that showed off your shoulders and arms; flowy thin off-the-shoulder sleeves gave an impression of weightlessness like it was effortless to be here. Perfect to hide the reality of the pain dragging along your steps. But…the longer you looked at yourself in the mirror, the stronger this pleasant - albeit quite weak - feeling grew. For the first time, you actually found yourself pretty. The discreet silver embroidery of stars and constellations on the corset and the platform heels of your favourite colour were nice additions. Of a sudden, you started to feel nostalgic. In a way, this night was your last outing with a large crowd of people you knew, and most of them would probably never see you again. A strange feeling of confidence rushed by; not the one when you feel powerful by the way you look or carry yourself, but one of the ethereal moments, frozen in time yet ephemeral. You hadn't particularly made a difference in your short life but at least you were glad that you could shine for one last dance, clothed in white before the red of your blood would take over. 

Whipping a treacherous tear that had made its way to the corner of your eye, you then squared your shoulders. With a last long inspiration for strength, you exited the bathroom. 

Seeing your other roommate packing a bag, you frowned slightly. 

"You're going somewhere?" 

"Eugene and I are going to watch over the cave we discovered," she said simply, packing a flashlight, "it's highly likely to be the monster's den." 

"Eugene? Ottinger?" you asked, surprised by her unconventional choice of companion. At her sharp nod, your face turned into a concerned expression. "I'm glad he's with you then, but…be careful, okay?" 

She snapped her head in your direction, "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Yeah, but Eugene's not. He's a good kid, he doesn't deserve to be hurt," you insisted. 

You didn't know Eugene Ottinger that well, firstly because he was younger and a class below you, but you had met him on various occasions especially about bees when some of your potions required honey. But he was a kind boy, and the knowledge that he was going close to a supposed monster nest wasn't reassuring at all. 

And seemingly, Wednesday saw your worry and you could swear that you saw her hardened expression ease a little. 

"He will be safe with me," she said. "Besides I'm the only one allowed to torture him. Bee code."

That pulled a small smile out of you. Under her tough armour, Wednesday actually had a soft side. Not wanting to push it further, you quietly made your way to the door; no need to delay the party further. Swinging the door open, you stopped dead in your tracks at the unexpected sight of a familiar figure. Tyler stood there dressed head to toe in white, fidgeting nervously. 

“Oh,” he said, almost as surprised as you. “Hi Y/N.”

“Galpin,” you greeted dryly. 

He scratched the back of his head, mouth opening like he was about to say something. You swore that if he was about to sweet-talk you by making an actual compliment you were going to punch him. Fortunately for him, he didn’t. “Is- uh, is Wednesday here?” 

You arched an eyebrow at his question. Or more accurately, at Tyler Galpin being at your dorm room dressed to the nines and asking for your roomie. “Sure,” you said, “Wednesday, there’s someone for you.”

She said something about Eugene being on time and you didn’t need to look at her to feel her freeze next to you when she reached the door. A very awkward beat passed, and then you decided that you definitely didn’t want to witness the strange conversation that would follow. Slipping away you caught a brief look at Thing hiding inside the room. This was going to be an interesting story to hear about later. 

Going down the stairs of the Ophelia wing, you started to get cold feet about this party. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea, after all? But before you even thought about going back to your dorm you were already at the party, and Enid had definitely seen you. Her enthusiastic gasp made some of your friends’ heads turn. 

“Y/N, you look so pretty!” she exclaimed as you approached them, shyly greeting the rest of them. 

Ajax let out a low whistle, “Well, none of you told us this was an actual fashion show or what.” 

“Nice outfit, I second the shoes,” said Yoko with a smirk. 

“Thanks guys,” you said almost shyly. 

“You’re like Glenda the witch of the East!” beamed Enid, which made some of the others chuckle. 

You thanked her and went to grab the two of you some drinks. Apparently, her date was supposed to but he stood rather awkwardly in the middle of the Nevermore students' crowd. Returning with the blue drinks in hand you cheered with the small group of friends, swinging gently at the music rhythm while everyone arrived. You even caught sight of Principal Weems, a somehow proud smile plastered on her face as she chaperoned the whole party. Everyone seemed to have a good time and it warmed your heart. One of your last memories of your school and its students, it was a good one. 

But then, you heard Enid gasp. 

“Oh my god, look who’s there.”

You whipped your head, expecting the surprise appearance of Wednesday at Tyler’s arm – if she hadn’t eaten him alive first. Instead, you felt your heart leap in your throat like a freezing iceberg to the bottom of the ocean. Cladded in white and hair tightly brought in a bun like he often did, Xavier walked in. And on his arm in a stunning silver backless dress, Bianca. Before you could stop yourself you choked on your drink, a coughing fit rocking your whole body ungracefully. 

“Shit, you’re alright?” immediately asked Enid.

You wiped the corner of your mouth slightly, just to make sure you didn’t actually drool on yourself. “Yeah,” you mumbled, “be right back, ‘m gonna fetch me another drink.” 

Dodging her questions or the questioning looks of people around you sped to the minibar. Once you made sure no one saw you, you hurled over your drink and let a large white bloodied flower drown down your glass. The red blood distilled into the blue tint of the cocktail, melting like deadly poison. That made you wince and you put down your drink on the table, hidden behind some bottles. You picked another clean glass of this whatever-virgin cocktail and waved discreetly your hand above it. Taking a sharp swing of it you were secretly glad to feel the familiar sting down your frown. At least you still had enough power to cast this spell transforming water into liquor. This night was going to require much stronger than soft drinks. 

From that moment, the Rave’n took a more bittersweet turn for you. It was hard to not glance at Xavier or Bianca – which, if you had done, would have made you realize that the vibes were awkwardly cold between the two of them. Even though Enid and Yoko tried to distract you, dragging you to the dance floor and trying to make you laugh. Their antics worked as you ended up swaying and dancing along to the loud techno music, pretending it didn’t pierce your ear drums. You didn’t even flinch at Wednesday’s sudden appearance, her black dress parting the crowd of white outfits like the red sea. It wasn’t your time to care, nor did you want to. The glass of booze you had certainly helped; you weren’t drunk, not even tipsy, just feeling light-headed enough to tune down, for a few minutes, the aching pain in your heart. The feeling of weightlessness was numbing and soothing, but not enough to forget the plaguing thought of your sickness. Or the weight of Xavier’s rejection, rubbed in your face by his arrival with Bianca. 

When a more slow song started, this artificial euphoria wore off slowly. And the feeling of your loneliness became very real again. The room became too crowded, too much to handle and you walked out of it, like a zombie. Finding a seat outside you plopped down unceremoniously. Your legs ached, maybe you had tired yourself out in the end. As tiredness sank into your bones, numbness overtook you whole once again. Not quite like before, like a soothing caress, more like a piercing melancholy wrapping around you like a comforting, yet exclusive blanket. Nothing had felt more empty before, but your lonely being with eyes haggard and heart bleeding out of your chest. 

The sound of a deep sigh made you realize that someone had taken a seat near you, and you were surprised to see none other than Bianca on the other side of the sofa. She didn’t look too happy either. 

Unable to stop the words from coming out of your mouth, you blurted. 

“Are you alright?”

The siren whipped her head to you, icy blue eyes half throwing daggers, half…sad?

“Why do you care?” 

Her harsh tone could sound rude, but you knew better than that. Your question had been incredibly random, you weren’t even sure that Bianca actually wished to talk with you, but you recognized the hurt in her eyes. 

At your unfazed expression, she sighed once again, “I’m sorry for that,” she excused herself, “this was uncalled for.”

You only shrugged, “I guess this is what I get for spoiling your evening.”. Bianca’s eyebrows rose slightly at your bitter tone. This wasn’t usual for you. 

“You’re not the one ruining my night, trust me,” she mumbled, glancing at the ballroom. 

Following her gaze, your eyes landed on Xavier, sitting at one of the tables and gaze locked on Wednesday and her date. His knuckles were white and his jaw clenched. If this sight made your heart break a little more, you were pretty sure that Bianca’s did too. 

The siren sighed and accepting her defeat, slumped in her seat. Bianca Barclay never slumped. 

“He’s not mine anymore, isn’t he?” she whispered out loud. 

Your eyes widened at her. Of all people you really didn’t expect Bianca to confide in you. Sensing your disbelief she turned her blue eyes to you. They were glossy with tears. 

“I’m not sure I’m the one who can help you with that,” you said with a sorry look. 

She scoffed lightly, but the sad look was still plaguing her traits, “I think you can, Y/N. Since when do you love him, exactly?”

The question slightly took you aback. When they had started dating, Bianca had kind of cornered you to give you the classic speech, new girlfriend to best friend, halfway to threats, and had asked you if you loved Xavier then. You had to say no. But now…this wasn’t the same prideful, powerful and confident girl, looking forward to ensuring her superiority. This was the teary-eyed, heartbroken girl who seek answers to get some sort of closure. Who were you to deny her that? 

So you sighed, and cast your eyes on your lap, “A long time,” you muttered quietly.

She hummed knowingly; this may be the first time you actually heard her being tired. “To be honest, I was glad he accepted my invitation,” she told you, like confidence. “But I was surprised he didn’t invite you first.”

You coughed weakly, not even bothering to be careful of Bianca seeing the eventual petals that could come out. “Yeah me too,” you whispered, “but it doesn’t matter now.” 

Bianca tilted her head, a bit surprised by your words, “Yes it does.”. At your raised eyebrow, she nodded in Xavier’s direction. “Wednesday’s not the only one occupying his mind tonight. He may think he got a poker face, but he doesn’t.”

Out of reflex, you looked once again at Xavier. The blue and yellow lights of the party shone on him, highlighting each of his sharp features. A sob made its way into your throat and you blocked it just before it escaped your mouth. Everything just hurt so much. 

“I don’t know what happened between you two recently,” said Bianca with an unknown softness, “but he does care. He worries about you, I know that” 

A cough wrecked your body, allowing petals and flowers to fly out of your mouth through your painful throat. Clamping a hand over your mouth under the siren’s perplexed eyes, you sighed in relief when the fit ended. Opening your hand to see as usual blood-coated flowers, you felt your chest ache. 

“Well, maybe his concerns won’t be enough this time,” you said weakly. Throwing away the flowers carelessly you avoided Bianca’s concerned gaze. “Maybe I should’ve thought about myself first, for once.” 

She let out a dry and tired laugh, “I second that. Maybe I should have too.” 

You offered a weak smile. No matter how much you both had, or loved Xavier, you couldn’t deny anymore the hurt it brought upon you. Especially upon you. 

“I’m sorry for having invited Xavier,” finally muttered Bianca. 

You shrugged, “Don't be. You had every right to try your chance. I knew this might happen”

She nodded, silently appreciating the lack of hate. You were far too tired to give that. “What made you come here, then?”

Remembering your roommate’s words, you smiled a little, “Something along the line of independent women not needing anybody.” 

Bianca chuckled at that. Whoever told you that was right. 

The arrival of another siren, blessedly unaware of the unexpected and open-heart conversation that had been going on, distracted Bianca from you. Her ability to put on a bright smile in the blink of an eye impressed you. You took that as your cue and got up, returning to the party before Enid or anyone would get worried. This strange bonding time reminded you why you had come in the first place: no matter how broken your heart was, this was about you and getting one last fun night before the dark. 

No one could really tell for how long you had been dancing again. Arms up, flowing along the music like nothing around you mattered. In a way, it did. Blurry faces of your friends and smiles that you didn’t know who they belonged to. It was like your mind had blacked out from the rest. Nothing could reach you; not the plaguing thought of your upcoming passing, not the burning sensation through your lungs, the tickling and bitter scrap of petals trying to crawl out of your throat, or the heavy burden of your broken heart. It was just you; for the first time, it was just you and it didn’t frighten you so much anymore. 

A warm drop sliding down your forehead broke you out of your trance, making your eyes flutter open. All the students were still dancing without the slightest care of the world, and you thought that you had maybe imagined things. Reaching for the damp spot, you brushed your fingers against it and gave them a look. A sticky, deep red liquid coated them. And before you could wonder what was happening, all hell broke loose. Torrential rain of blood sprouted out of the room’s sprinklers, drenching everyone in the blink of an eye. All the white outfits turned into a deep crimson shade and scream erupted everywhere. Terrified students ran, trying to find cover the best they could, and in the middle of it all, you stood frozen in place. 

As soon as the bloody liquid had started to pour it had been like reality had come crashing in. The rational part of your brain screamed at you to run away, to find a shelter; but your eyes were stuck on your trembling hands, bathed in red. Flashes of white flowers and petals echoed in front of your eyes in a never-ending fall, your heart started to spin and suddenly you couldn’t hear anything but the loud and panicked beats of your heart. Like an infernal spiral, your mind started to fall apart, replaying uncomplete scenes in your head; the burning sensation in your chest, tearing your body apart as you gagged blood mixed with flowers, the vision like from far away, of your own body losing grip on itself and laying cold on the ground for merely seconds that still felt like hours, the waking up in cold sweat in the middle of the night, trying to scream but being unable to because of your throat stuffed with petals. God, why did anybody hear the deafening thumping of your blood behind your temples? They were so loud, and your chest, it ached so much! Maybe somebody was calling out for you, you didn’t know. It felt like your head was stuck in cotton wool, and your body trapped within the spiralling of your own mind. And why did it hurt so much, why couldn’t your chest burst open once and for—

“Y/N!!” shouted a voice over the terrified screams. “Y/N we have to go!”

You knew that voice, that you were certain of it. It was the grip on your arm that made you snap back into reality a second later. Drenched in red, Xavier looked at you with frightened eyes. 

“You heard me? We have to go!” he repeated. 

It took your brain a few more seconds to reconnect fully to reality. It wasn’t fast enough for your legs to register how to walk on your own, so Xavier had to drag you along behind him, trying to reach the room’s exit the quickest way possible. You wondered how long it had taken him to notice that you hadn’t tried to get out on your own.  

Someone bumping into you managed to get your mind focused fully again. Catching the smaller frame of Wednesday out of reflex, you immediately noticed that something was wrong. Eyes blown wide and head thrown backwards, something was going on. Immediately, you and Xavier tried to call her, to get her out of this frightening trance. She gasped for air merely a second after, like someone had just resurrected her. 

“Eugene’s in danger,” she whispered immediately. 

“What?? You let him go on his own?” you snapped back. 

“He’s in the woods he’s in danger, I see him he’s in danger,” she continued to ramble, almost like a chant. 

Swearing under your breath, you immediately let go of Wednesday muttering a hurried “keep an eye on her” to a flabbergasted Xavier; then you didn’t waste a single second and sprinted out of the room. Damn be your newfound motto about thinking about putting yourself first, you weren’t going to let that kid die. 

Reaching the outlines of the wood you cursed loudly at your impractical platforms and quickly got rid of them. Then your erratic run resumed. 

“Eugene!” you called from the top of your lungs. “Eugene, where are you?!”

Nothing but silence answered you but you didn’t give up and continued to run, hoping to not be too late. A harsh burning clamped your heart, maybe from the running; it seemed that you didn’t register anymore the petals your body unconsciously rejected now. It roamed through your lungs, making it difficult to breathe now. A sharp wheeze escaped your mouth as a particular rough fit of coughing shook your body, forcing you to stop your run for a moment, leaning on a nearby tree for support. Your lungs tugged on themselves, trying to cling to air for your dear life but nothing could go past through your blood and flowers-filled throat. You choked on nothing, tears springing from the corners of your eyes.

Before you could regain control of your own body, your knees buckled under you and you dropped onto the muddy forest floor, wheezing and clawing at your throat. You gurgled and heaved up a large group of flowers bathing in blood. The feeling of it dripping on your chin and petals stuck inside your mouth wasn’t even the worst. 

Then your ears picked up something in the distance. Ever so faintly, a weeping sound. Like pleas, a rasping voice weakly calling out for help. 

“Eugene,” you whispered. 

Out of instinct, you tried to push yourself standing but your legs flinched under your own weight and you fell limply on the ground. Some more blood escaped your half-opened mouth, dripping on your chest with the other discarded flowers. Eyelids feeling heavy, you started to feel lightheaded as the world around you began to swirl. You tried to move, but even lifting your hand felt impossible. 

The sound of hurried footsteps reached your ears, but you couldn’t find the strength to turn over to see who it was. Then without a warning, they turned you over, back on the ground. Wednesday. 

“Y/N, did you see the monster? Where’s Eugene??” 

Any word that you tried to form came out as pathetic gurgling sounds. The Addams’ eyes flickered to your blood-covered chin, then to the flowers on your chest and on the ground. 

“How did that happen?” she asked hurriedly, “did you see Eugene??”

Finally managing to articulate something, you croaked, “...further…down…heard him…please hurry…”

She gripped your hand, looking like she was torn apart between staying with you or looking out for your lost comrade. Sensing her dilemma even with a blurred mind, you weakly squeezed her hand back as an encouragement. 

“Go help…him…’f not too late…”

She nodded frantically, almost trembling, “Others are on their way Y/N,” she tried to reassure you, “hold on tight, okay? You’re going to make it.”

You could only nod weakly. But as Wednesday was about to get up, an unknown surge of panic gave you enough energy to grip her forearm tightly. Snapping her head back at you, her eyes widened even more at the pleading expression that faced her. 

“Please…” you whimpered, “don’t…don’t let him…see me like this…”

Tears roamed down your cheeks freely, and you felt your strength leave your body with every passing second. 

“What?” she asked in confusion. 

You wheezed weakly, “d…don’t let him think…think…that it w…as his f-fault,” you pleaded before letting your gripping hand fall on the floor with a thud. 

The following seconds felt like hours. The weight of your body seemed enough to bury you in the ground. Some shouts were heard in the distance. Before your mind blacked out, you remembered the shouting voice of Xavier screaming your name. Then the night took over. 

The smell of sanitized belongings was the first thing your brain registered when you emerged into consciousness again. Then the white light, blinding even behind closed eyelids. You heard and felt your whole body groan in pain. It was considerably tuned down from what you were used to, still, soreness erupted through your limbs. After a solid minute of struggling you finally opened your eyes. 

Awakening in a hospital bed wasn’t something you had ever wished for in your life. Yet, here you were apparently. Taking a look around with groggy eyes, you didn’t even notice a nurse walking by, or her saying something about notifying your legal guardian. It was only a few minutes later when Principal Weems entered your room that you connected the dots. At least, the best you could with your still fuzzy brain. 

“Miss L/N,” she said in a soft tone that was tainted with relief, “I’m glad you’re finally awake.”

“I- how long was I out?” you rasped, tongue feeling pasty. 

“Almost an entire day,” answered the principal, closing the door behind her. “How are you feeling?” 

You winced slightly, a lingering pain piercing your chest still, “Sore. What happened? Did- did you find Eugene?” 

Weems pursed her lips but still nodded, “Mr Ottinger is fine, he’s currently getting some treatment in this hospital as well.” 

You let out a relieved sigh. At least, Eugene was safe; but she still hadn’t answered all your questions. 

As she could read your mind, Weems approached your bed, a serious look on her face. 

“Miss Addams and Mister Thorpe found you in the woods,” she started. At the mention of Xavier’s name, your eyes widened in panic. Oh no, what had he seen? How much did he know? Principal Weems narrowed her eyes at your reaction but still carried on, “It seemed that you had passed out from hypoglycemia; at least, that is what both of them believe.”

Her words made you frown slightly, not quite understanding where she was getting at. The serious look on her face, cold like a stone, didn't make you feel any better. But at the same time, you thought you could detect…sadness? 

Principal Weems sat on the chair next to your bed and pulled out a folder from her bag. 

“The doctors who had auscultated you gave me this,” she said, pulling two blue and white plastic sheets. 

The first glance at the x-rays was enough for you to know exactly what it was about. 

“We need to talk about whatever this is, miss L/N.”

[Part.6] 

A/N: sooo I know I've promised some fluff but this was already so long omg, it'll be on the next part :') Enid roasting Xavier is my new religion not gonna lie (and I couldn't resist hinting a small Enid x Wednesday I'm weak okay) Also: can we please talk about Bianca's outfit at the Rave'n??? I like this character a lot honestly, because well...she's relatable as fuck. I thought she was going to be branded as the cliché school bitch but she's just a teenage girl who's dealing with shitty family problems and broke up with her boyfriend in a kind of rocky way. Yeah, maybe some petty behaviour at the beginning of the show was bitchy, but she's a teenager; we all were bitchy somehow Anyway, I hope you liked this part, I'm currently working on the next, take care of you♥♥

Taglist: [COMPLETE AND CURRENTLY HAVING A BREAKDOWN] Edit: wtf it works now??

@apocalypticnova @libdarkheart @ameliabs-world @certifeidlovergirl @aeisnoa @cat-loves-music @coolchick333 @eringaitskill @sweaterxav @sssleepless @l4venderia @persipeoni @coldheartedmar @littlebabyk @pinksirensong @nushy @raribella @igotanidea @ali-r3n @chaosfrisur @miinnttyy @hershey2813​

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@katiemrty @vanillaarr @corpsebridenightamare @ghswlz @siriusblacksl0ver @poppyalice2001 @mypsychoticlove @jointherebellion215 @siriwhitewolf @teaganthemorningstar @oblivion-void @fandomstoryreader25 @darkdaydreamer @engenelxver @maddiechapman15 @hannahnikohl @pajerita19 @i-like-trains @tinafuentes @slngarza @lqveharrington @honethatty12 @users09 @honestlyka  @athenalive @sunnytkm23 @mjpark15 @joselyn001 @mermaid-painter @sagegreeeeen @hayleesworld96 @sunnyteume @itssomeonereading @vaebeau @spencershotwife @negasonicteenagefathead @   @flowersownme @eileen201804 @peacheskiwi @spiceyhotsherbet @ramiiroll @theweirdone2468 @tempressofthetarot @bambi-munson @apollo 3475  @hes-club

(don’t hesitate to tell me if I’ve forgotten you on the taglist, there had been some issues with it recently so I might have missed some usernames, if so I apologize :D)

[comfort-person]

Request: Were YN is madly in love with harry and propose him. Due to some circumstances he rejected her and Later he accepts it.

YN as Harry’s tour assistant

Thank you for this request!! Sorry for taking forever I’ve been on holiday, but I hope this is okay!

Trigger warnings: swearing- but near to nothing

Harry x tour assistant reader

“So what kind of thing were you thinking? America, England then Europe?” You spoke staring at Harry, moving your hands around to get your point across. You did it without even thinking, it was something that was just natural for you: talking with your hands. “I think it would be cool to add in Australia dates as well,” Harry spoke your eyes lingering on his lips as he spoke. You were utterly and completely in love with Harry. You had been his tour assistant for about five months and over those months you had gotten to know him better but also gotten to fall in love with him more and more… you had been bottling up these feelings for him for three months and gods was it becoming unbearable. His sweet lips, his green eyes, his kindness, his humour… fuck… you were obsessed with him. But who wasn’t? This is Harry fucking styles we’re talking about.

A soft hum left your lips and you nodded your head “yeah sure thing,” you wrote a few notes down to discuss with your managers later on “we could even do a wide world tour,” you spoke staring at him with a soft smile Harry’s lips curving up into to a warm smile his dimples appearing making your stomach flutter “wide world sounds good. There’s fans everywhere and you know, the cost of living isn’t exactly helping people buy concert tickets so to minimise that we can put tours all over- Japan, America, England, China, Asia in general, Australia- Everywhere else.” He spoke, this was one of the many reasons as to why you loved him so much and adored him because he spoke in such a beautiful way…. He was just so well spoken and kind and generous. “Okay yeah definitely… so like when you and one direction went on tour yeah? You guys went everywhere. So like that?” Harry nodded a permanent smile on his lips, it would be quite a big budget but you weren’t scared of it. It was going to be exciting to figure something out. Plus you knew it made Harry happy to make his fans happy so either way he was going to be happy and that made you happy. Beyond happy.

“I’ll figure this out with the managers and hopefully it’s successful, if it is I’ll be in contact with you in the next few days,” you spoke “thank you, Y/n I truly do appreciate it.” He reached his hand out towards you and you smiled expecting him to shake your hand but instead he patted you gently on the shoulder making your stomach flutter all over again. You were totally besotted with him. You stared at him with happy gentle eyes a lot of love in your own eyes Harry soon realising you hadn’t stood up “everything okay?” He asked and you cleared your throat “yes yes everything’s fine, sorry,” you chuckled nervously Harry’s green eyes searching your face but before he could’ve even said anything your feelings that you had kept to yourself for months came spurting out of your lips,

“I’m sorry Harry… this is probably really fucking abrupt but… you make me so happy. You’re such a beautiful person and.. I-… I don’t know I just like you… a lot…” Harry’s smile slowly faded, his lips parting in awe before a laugh left his lips yet he soon realised you weren’t laughing, your face was painstakingly anxious and that’s when his smile faded and he stared at you shocked. He didn’t realise you were being serious. He liked you, he did, he really liked you in fact- you were beautiful, someone he cared for and adored but he didn’t think a relationship was the right thing at that present moment especially because of the recent relationship with Olivia… Harry liked to call it a ‘fling’ between them as horrible as that sounded but it was the truth. Harry was the main role in don’t worry darling and Olivia wanted to promote her movie… what better way to promote it than sleep with her new money maker who was easily going to bring her fame and money. Harry didn’t want Olivia to target you and because his relationship with her was still pretty fresh and raw he didn’t feel like it was right to have a romantic relationship with you at that very moment.. sure things could blossom in the future but right now it just wouldn’t be fair on you and although he didn’t say it he cared about you so very much and just wanted the best for you.

“Look y/n you’re wonderful… and I care about you very much but…” he shook his head struggling to find the words. You were a sweet girl and he didn’t want to break your heart. He’d never forgive himself if he ever broke your heart “I just don’t want a relationship at the moment… you’re lovely though and beautiful you are… I’m very uh… flattered? That you think that but I’m just not ready for a relationship.” He spoke carefully and softly, he was usually straight forward but with you he was more tender because he cared so very much for you. You were more than a friend… so much more… yet he wasn’t able to express that at the very moment. Your heart had instantly dropped into your stomach your grip on your notepad tightening and you gulped harshly tears beginning to sting your eyes but you quickly forced a smile “that’s okay,” you let out a soft chuckle attempting to hide the shakiness in your voice but Harry noticed it and it broke his heart “thank you for understanding…” he smiled softly his eyes genuine and apologetic. You slowly stood up “I’ll be in touch soon Harry, have a good rest of your day,” you spoke before quickly leaving your anxiousness only growing yet you quickly forced yourself to calm down… getting rejected was absolutely one of the worst feelings ever. But you respected Harry’s honesty… you respected and were grateful for the fact that Harry was honest with you and didn’t even think to lead you on.

Harry the next few days was overthinking everything. He was thinking everything over and attempting to understand his own feelings and what he truly wanted and after two weeks of no contact from you Harry finally realised that he wanted you. He needed time to think… time to gather his thoughts and finally he had figured out that he didn’t want money, he didn’t want fame, he didn’t want anything…. All he wanted was you. Nothing else, no one else… just you.

And so Harry later on that day went out shopping where he bought chocolates, flowers and ingredients to cook a meal. After that he headed over to your place, and once arriving he knocked loudly on the door- he waited for a while, before eventually hearing the sound of the door unlocking before it was pulled open you coming into view and a warm charming smile formed on Harry’s face “oh.. harry..” you spoke confused, looking down at yourself almost insecure you wore turquoise blue shorts and a random T-shirt yet that soon was the least of your worries as you noticed was was in his hands… flowers… your heart skipped a beat and you gulped harshly “I uh… I just wanted to see whether the offer was still up.” He spoke and you furrowed your brows “the offer for what?” You asked and he smiled softly “the offer to love you.” Those words shocked you your brows raising “to love-“ “I love you y/n. I have done for ages… I just couldn’t tell you right away bec-“ he fell silent as he felt your lips smush against his, his eyes widening slightly at your burst of confidence but he soon placed the bag down keeping a hold of the flowers as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing you back gently but deeply all at once… the amount of love in the kiss being portrayed massively.

The flowers were pressed against your back, his free hand stroking against the small of your back as you melted further into him gripping onto his T-shirt tightly his lips tasting delicious… softer than anything…. Just how you had imagined. Before he eventually pulled back a small smile on his lips and he gazed down at you before lifting his hand up to caress against your cheek stroking his thumb against your skin as he searched your eyes softly and gently “you’re so beautiful y/n… let me cook us a dinner, yeah? Let me make you happy….” A soft grin tugged at your lips and you smiled nodding your head before kissing his cheek before dragging him inside the apartment Harry’s finger’s immediately finding yours, like the last piece of a puzzle finally connecting… it was beautiful.

“Also it’s been confirmed… you can do a world tour…” you spoke smirking at the man you loved Harry’s eyes widening with excitement and happiness “well then…. I suppose I better get a extra seat booked hm?” He spoke smiling and you stared at him with wide happy eyes “a seat booked for who?” You asked gently “for you obviously…. Just for you… you’re gonna be coming on tour with me…” a soft happy laugh left your lips before you wrapped your arms around him tightly and he smiled gripping onto you tightly yet gently “gods I love you..” you murmured softly, it was moving so quickly already but you couldn’t wait… it was going to be perfect… “I love you more.” He murmured pressing a kiss to your forehead “love you most…” you spoke smirking forcing a small scoff out of Harry “please, Y/n… I don’t think that’s possible..” he chuckled out gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you. For once Harry felt as if this was going to be the start of something wonderful…. Something that was going to blossom into something beautiful… maybe it was too soon to admit it but he knew then and there that he was in love with you. Head over heels. He was going to love you forever… he loved your soul, personality and smile… maybe finally he could spend his life with you: the one he loved more than anything.

[novasillies]

most of us are mostly upset about the shitty biphobic stereotypes they used as an excuse for the breakup and how sudden and badly written it was. if more time than 3 minutes was spent on the breakup and it was for a non-biphobic reason, i'd still be sad, but i'd be ultimately fine about it. we all knew the chances of them being endgame were slim. we just didn't think they'd treat the story and its fans with this much disrespect.

(Sorry this answer got so rambly I kept thinking of stuff to say. I swear I’m not coming for ur throat or anything I just talk A LOT <333)

I’m gonna be so real I don’t think they expected bucktommy to have like hardcore fans. They really had no consistency with the way they wrote those two and I would not be surprised if they wrote Tommys scenes this season assuming everyone would not care about any part of it besides buck alone rather than them as a couple, especially since they cut any interactions between tommy and the rest of the cast. He really was always just a plot device, but Tim Minear probs should’ve expected this fanbase to cling onto a mlm couple.

The writing on this show has never been particularly considerate of the fans though. If I liked tommy I’d probs be pissed as hell too cause even I didn’t understand what was going on in that breakup scene (it really was SO SOOO rushed. Like gave me actual whiplash (although the second buck asked him to move in I knew they were done)). But yk. It is what it is. This show is terribly written

I rlly don’t get how it was biphobic though? Is it because of the firsts ≠ lasts thing?? Idk I feel like buck does deserve to explore himself considering how new this really is for him. There’s always a chance they could reconnect later on (I do hate hate hate tommy though sorry not sorry. And I don’t think Oliver stark likes LFJ too much either). It should’ve been his choice though. It would’ve been better if buck had broken it off or if it was an actual discussion rather than tommy implying he was breaking up with him and buck having to ask. But, then again, the way I’ve been watching it, that was incredibly in-character for the both of them. It just felt mean

I think they broke up more because Tommy has issues than because the showrunners think that bi people can’t commit or something (at least that’s what I think the biphobic angle could be?). The only person buck ever did really commit to romantically was Abby and well…! But yeah it’s rare for people to find their forever with their first especially in terms of queer relationships (that doesn’t negate how deeply vital this relationship is, was, and will be for buck. First queer loves (even if he couldn’t say the word) really do stick. I know that very well). I think it was an incredibly weak reason to break up in-universe but hey-ho.

I do hope they treat bucks next LI more like a real character, whether they bring in someone new or old. And I hope they let buck fucking breathe before they do because damn. Can we give HIM a solo self-discovery/self-love arc?? Please????

Aside from Taylor, all of his LIs just kind of been Buck’s Partner and that was all they did. I don’t think the lack of care and weak excuses for a breakup is a Tommy thing or a biphobia thing. These shows get their views from drama! That’s the genre! It’ll be interesting to see if there’s a dip in viewership after this though. You bucktommys are devoted

Here’s to getting better, more considerate writing in the coming episodes (I am truly begging)!!!!

[harry-styles-obsessed]

Were YN is madly in love with harry and propose him. Due to some circumstances he rejected her and Later he accepts it.

YN as Harry's tour assistance

Please x

Thank you for this request!! Sorry for taking forever I’ve been on holiday, but I hope this is okay!

Trigger warnings: swearing- but near to nothing

Harry x tour assistant reader

©️ please do not copy or translate my work.

“So what kind of thing were you thinking? America, England then Europe?” You spoke staring at Harry, moving your hands around to get your point across. You did it without even thinking, it was something that was just natural for you: talking with your hands. “I think it would be cool to add in Australia dates as well,” Harry spoke your eyes lingering on his lips as he spoke. You were utterly and completely in love with Harry. You had been his tour assistant for about five months and over those months you had gotten to know him better but also gotten to fall in love with him more and more… you had been bottling up these feelings for him for three months and gods was it becoming unbearable. His sweet lips, his green eyes, his kindness, his humour… fuck… you were obsessed with him. But who wasn’t? This is Harry fucking styles we’re talking about.

A soft hum left your lips and you nodded your head “yeah sure thing,” you wrote a few notes down to discuss with your managers later on “we could even do a wide world tour,” you spoke staring at him with a soft smile Harry’s lips curving up into to a warm smile his dimples appearing making your stomach flutter “wide world sounds good. There’s fans everywhere and you know, the cost of living isn’t exactly helping people buy concert tickets so to minimise that we can put tours all over- Japan, America, England, China, Asia in general, Australia- Everywhere else.” He spoke, this was one of the many reasons as to why you loved him so much and adored him because he spoke in such a beautiful way…. He was just so well spoken and kind and generous. “Okay yeah definitely… so like when you and one direction went on tour yeah? You guys went everywhere. So like that?” Harry nodded a permanent smile on his lips, it would be quite a big budget but you weren’t scared of it. It was going to be exciting to figure something out. Plus you knew it made Harry happy to make his fans happy so either way he was going to be happy and that made you happy. Beyond happy.

“I’ll figure this out with the managers and hopefully it’s successful, if it is I’ll be in contact with you in the next few days,” you spoke “thank you, Y/n I truly do appreciate it.” He reached his hand out towards you and you smiled expecting him to shake your hand but instead he patted you gently on the shoulder making your stomach flutter all over again. You were totally besotted with him. You stared at him with happy gentle eyes a lot of love in your own eyes Harry soon realising you hadn’t stood up “everything okay?” He asked and you cleared your throat “yes yes everything’s fine, sorry,” you chuckled nervously Harry’s green eyes searching your face but before he could’ve even said anything your feelings that you had kept to yourself for months came spurting out of your lips,

“I’m sorry Harry… this is probably really fucking abrupt but… you make me so happy. You’re such a beautiful person and.. I-… I don’t know I just like you… a lot…” Harry’s smile slowly faded, his lips parting in awe before a laugh left his lips yet he soon realised you weren’t laughing, your face was painstakingly anxious and that’s when his smile faded and he stared at you shocked. He didn’t realise you were being serious. He liked you, he did, he really liked you in fact- you were beautiful, someone he cared for and adored but he didn’t think a relationship was the right thing at that present moment especially because of the recent relationship with Olivia… Harry liked to call it a ‘fling’ between them as horrible as that sounded but it was the truth. Harry was the main role in don’t worry darling and Olivia wanted to promote her movie… what better way to promote it than sleep with her new money maker who was easily going to bring her fame and money. Harry didn’t want Olivia to target you and because his relationship with her was still pretty fresh and raw he didn’t feel like it was right to have a romantic relationship with you at that very moment.. sure things could blossom in the future but right now it just wouldn’t be fair on you and although he didn’t say it he cared about you so very much and just wanted the best for you.

“Look y/n you’re wonderful… and I care about you very much but…” he shook his head struggling to find the words. You were a sweet girl and he didn’t want to break your heart. He’d never forgive himself if he ever broke your heart “I just don’t want a relationship at the moment… you’re lovely though and beautiful you are… I’m very uh… flattered? That you think that but I’m just not ready for a relationship.” He spoke carefully and softly, he was usually straight forward but with you he was more tender because he cared so very much for you. You were more than a friend… so much more… yet he wasn’t able to express that at the very moment. Your heart had instantly dropped into your stomach your grip on your notepad tightening and you gulped harshly tears beginning to sting your eyes but you quickly forced a smile “that’s okay,” you let out a soft chuckle attempting to hide the shakiness in your voice but Harry noticed it and it broke his heart “thank you for understanding…” he smiled softly his eyes genuine and apologetic. You slowly stood up “I’ll be in touch soon Harry, have a good rest of your day,” you spoke before quickly leaving your anxiousness only growing yet you quickly forced yourself to calm down… getting rejected was absolutely one of the worst feelings ever. But you respected Harry’s honesty… you respected and were grateful for the fact that Harry was honest with you and didn’t even think to lead you on.

Harry the next few days was overthinking everything. He was thinking everything over and attempting to understand his own feelings and what he truly wanted and after two weeks of no contact from you Harry finally realised that he wanted you. He needed time to think… time to gather his thoughts and finally he had figured out that he didn’t want money, he didn’t want fame, he didn’t want anything…. All he wanted was you. Nothing else, no one else… just you.

And so Harry later on that day went out shopping where he bought chocolates, flowers and ingredients to cook a meal. After that he headed over to your place, and once arriving he knocked loudly on the door- he waited for a while, before eventually hearing the sound of the door unlocking before it was pulled open you coming into view and a warm charming smile formed on Harry’s face “oh.. harry..” you spoke confused, looking down at yourself almost insecure you wore turquoise blue shorts and a random T-shirt yet that soon was the least of your worries as you noticed was was in his hands… flowers… your heart skipped a beat and you gulped harshly “I uh… I just wanted to see whether the offer was still up.” He spoke and you furrowed your brows “the offer for what?” You asked and he smiled softly “the offer to love you.” Those words shocked you your brows raising “to love-“ “I love you y/n. I have done for ages… I just couldn’t tell you right away bec-“ he fell silent as he felt your lips smush against his, his eyes widening slightly at your burst of confidence but he soon placed the bag down keeping a hold of the flowers as he wrapped his arms around you, kissing you back gently but deeply all at once… the amount of love in the kiss being portrayed massively.

The flowers were pressed against your back, his free hand stroking against the small of your back as you melted further into him gripping onto his T-shirt tightly his lips tasting delicious… softer than anything…. Just how you had imagined. Before he eventually pulled back a small smile on his lips and he gazed down at you before lifting his hand up to caress against your cheek stroking his thumb against your skin as he searched your eyes softly and gently “you’re so beautiful y/n… let me cook us a dinner, yeah? Let me make you happy….” A soft grin tugged at your lips and you smiled nodding your head before kissing his cheek before dragging him inside the apartment Harry’s finger’s immediately finding yours, like the last piece of a puzzle finally connecting… it was beautiful.

“Also it’s been confirmed… you can do a world tour…” you spoke smirking at the man you loved Harry’s eyes widening with excitement and happiness “well then…. I suppose I better get a extra seat booked hm?” He spoke smiling and you stared at him with wide happy eyes “a seat booked for who?” You asked gently “for you obviously…. Just for you… you’re gonna be coming on tour with me…” a soft happy laugh left your lips before you wrapped your arms around him tightly and he smiled gripping onto you tightly yet gently “gods I love you..” you murmured softly, it was moving so quickly already but you couldn’t wait… it was going to be perfect… “I love you more.” He murmured pressing a kiss to your forehead “love you most…” you spoke smirking forcing a small scoff out of Harry “please, Y/n… I don’t think that’s possible..” he chuckled out gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as he smiled down at you. For once Harry felt as if this was going to be the start of something wonderful…. Something that was going to blossom into something beautiful… maybe it was too soon to admit it but he knew then and there that he was in love with you. Head over heels. He was going to love you forever… he loved your soul, personality and smile… maybe finally he could spend his life with you: the one he loved more than anything.

[goldensugarywaffles]

Oops I Summoned a Succubus!

Summary: The maknae line summoned a demon and now it’s everyone’s problem.

Warnings: Innuendos, discussions of sex, and Y/n and Taehyung being slight perverts?

Author’s Note: New series! Less edgy than my other one. Don’t really write smut so we’ll see how this goes. Practice makes perfect and I have now given myself an entire series to practice with T-T...inspired by @sunshinerainbowsbts​ because she is the one person who can make me cackle and leave me scandalized in the same fic. She made me laugh and now everyone has to suffer. Forgive me if the fic is bad I swear I tried...

Taehyung was bored and horny. An often-dangerous combination with horrible consequences. After the last incident, it took months before Jimin could look at cucumbers again without a chill going down his spine. Rolling off the couch with a groan, Taehyung set off on his search for some entertainment. While he would usually quell his arousal with help from one of his six boyfriends, he wasn’t in the mood today. With the group becoming increasingly popular by the day, the time for romance and sex was virtually nonexistent. Even when they had the chance to engage in such things, there was no spark. It was practically a chore to relieve stress. Sighing sadly, he wandered into the gaming room, hoping to drown his boredom with video games.

Walking into the room, he was met with a familiar sight. Jungkook was at his computer, grumbling out curses and aggressively smashing the buttons of his keyboard with no strategy. Across the room, Jimin sat watching the younger boy in mild amusement. “How many times has he failed this level?" Planting a kiss on Jimin's cheek, he flops down next to the dancer with a huff. Jimin merely chuckles in response, "I've lost count after fifteen. He's been here for hours, and I don't think he plans to leave anytime soon." Taehyung hums in acknowledgment, watching as Jungkook’s character dies and the screen fades to black flashing the words “Game Over” across the screen. With an angry shout, Jungkook tosses down his mouse. Grumpily making his way to his older lovers, he collapses on their laps without a single care in the world. Jimin fondly pats Jungkook’s butt while Taehyung runs a comforting hand through the younger idol’s hair.

“Guys, I’m bored. Let’s do something fun,” Taehyung whines. If anyone was going to entertain his antics, it would be Jimin and Jungkook. The three were often known for getting into all kinds of mischief. Lifting his head from Taehyung’s lap Jungkook gave the singer a curious look. "You aren't horny, too, are you?" Jimin shivers at the statement. He would never trust a bored and horny Taehyung ever again. Taehyung scoffs, “If you must know, yes, I am feeling a little worked up right now.” Jimin subtly shifts in his spot, preparing to make his escape. Taehyung cuts him off before he gets the chance, “However, I am mostly bored and do not feel like having sex right now.” Jimin instantly relaxes while Jungkook pouts, the youngest’s sex drive insatiable.

“Well, what do you want to do?” Jimin questions, not fully convinced about Taehyung’s innocent intentions but willing to play along anyway. Taehyung hums, "I want to do something mischievous but not necessarily harmful.” Jimin raises an eyebrow at the vague statement. “Like a prank?” Jungkook excitedly suggests. Jungkook was a master at pranks and knew exactly how to set everyone off. “Let’s prank Namjoon! He’s the least scary while angry and will probably only lecture us,” Jungkook gushes, “Oh! Or he’ll do that thing where he looks at us, sighs, and then walks away.” Taehyung nods in agreement. For now, Namjoon was the safest choice to prank, especially because he was in a good mood today when Taehyungs last saw him. “How should we prank him? He’s already clumsy,” Taehyung muses. “We could rearrange his books by size instead of the genre,” Jimin offers. Namjoon’s room was extremely organized, or he would often lose things. Namjoon was especially adamant that his books remain organized by genre and hated when people tampered with them.

Taehyung shrugs; while this wasn't the most exciting activity, he figures it could alleviate at least some of the boredom. Hopping off the couch, the boys make their way to Namjoon's room, knowing that all the others are out for the day. Yoongi was probably locked up in his genius lab, Hoseok was at the dance studio, and Seokjin had gone to the grocery store dragging Namjoon with him. “Okay, what are we waiting for?" Jungkook hops off the other two and rushes to Namjoon's room, far more excited than he should be. Grabbing the younger's hand, Jimin drags Taehyung along to the leader's office. By the time they arrive, Jungkook has already removed various books from the shelves leaving them scattered all over the floor. With a shrug, Jimin starts helping, picking up books and looking over them as if he is interested in what they have to say. Taehyung groans, this was one of the most boring pranks they had ever come up with, and he couldn't believe he agreed to it. Sitting on Namjoon's desk, Taehyung yelps when he sits on something. Looking at the offending object, he suddenly becomes intrigued.  

It wasn’t a book that Namjoon would typically read. It looked old and didn’t even have a title. There was an intricate design of red flowers all over the cover with gold embroidered around them. "Taehyung, why aren't you helping? You were the one who was bored,” Jungkook whines draping himself over the singer to get a look at whatever had caught his hyung’s attention. Giving up on his work Jimin makes his way over to the other two. “What are you two doing?" Taehyung traces his fingers over the book, a sudden chill going down his spine. For some reason, it felt ominous. Flipping the book open to the last page, he reads the passage aloud.

The Demon of Eros Summoning Spell:

From the blood of Eros and blessed by the hands of Aphrodite, a creature of passion and pleasure was born. A gift to mortals and mystical creatures alike, their one true purpose is to serve and provide in the most intimate ways. To fulfill your deepest desires and mend the wounds of the heart, summon the demon if you dare and follow the ritual exactly:

Obtain the flowers born from Eros’ demon:

Coriander for Lust, Roses for Love, Camellia for Desire, and Chrysanthemum for Death

Obtain the demon’s spices:

Cinnamon, Ginseng, Nutmeg, and Ginger.

Spread the ingredients in a large circle, and add three drops of blood from the summoners.

Chant the spell: I summon the sinful demon of lust, pleasure, love, and desire. To pull your soul from the pits of fire. Reveal yourself to the great cosmos; I call upon you, the demon of Eros!

The boys stood in confusion around the book. Why did Namjoon have a demon-summoning book? Ignoring the feeling of unease in his stomach, Taehyung speaks, "What if we summon it?” Jimin scoffs while Jungkook’s breath hitches. “You want to summon a demon?” Jungkook questions the older vocalist, trying to understand if he heard correctly. Taehyung nods, “It would be a great prank. We’ll wait until everyone gets home and then summon the demon!” Jimin raises an eyebrow at the younger man, “You do realize this won’t really summon a demon, right? Demons aren’t real, and this is probably just an old occult book Namjoon found." Taehyung nods in confidently, "All the more reason to do it. Demons aren't real, and no one will get hurt." Jungkook hesitates; while demons aren't real, he still feels uneasy with the whole idea. However, looking at the excitement on Taehyung and Jimin's faces, he relents.

“Alright, where do we get all this stuff?”

Yoongi was tired. He had been locked away in his studio all day long and probably wouldn’t have left if it wasn't for Hoseok. The two men shuffle towards their home, ready for a decent meal and a good night’s sleep. Hoseok leans into Yoongi, almost ready to pass out after an intense session of dancing. The younger rapper pushed himself far beyond his limits despite Yoongi's protests. Placing a gentle kiss on the dancer’s temple, Yoongi unlocks the door, ready for a peaceful night.

Unfortunately, peace is not a thing in the Bangtan household. As soon as he opens the door, his poor ears are assaulted with shouts and shrieks. Seokjin is red in the face speaking so fast that Yoongi can barely understand him. It would have been an almost sight if it wasn’t for the scene in front of him. There are flowers and some sort of powder scattered around his living room. Jimin is standing on a couch arguing with Jin as if the height gave him an advantage. Jungkook is holding Seokjin back from snatching Jimin up. Taehyung has some book in his hand, declaring no one can stop him. Sitting in the corner, Namjoon merely watches, clearly giving up on de-escalating the situation at hand. While Yoongi would ask what's happening, he doesn't have it in him to care. He drags Hoseok over to the couch, flopping down on it and forcing Jimin to move over. Closing his eyes he decides to wait until the commotion dies down before attempting to engage with anyone.

Suddenly Taehyung shouts, “I summon the sinful demon. Of lust, pleasure, love, and desire. To pull your soul from the pits of fire. Reveal yourself to the great cosmos; I call upon you, the demon of Eros!” The room immediately gets quiet. While Yoongi was not completely aware of what was happening, he managed to put two and two together. Taehyung was trying to summon a demon, Jimin and Jungkook were in on it, and he just chanted the spell. Looking around the room, everyone waits for something to happen. Even Hoseok, who had woken up out of his sleepy state after hearing the word demon and summon in the same sentence. After a solid minute, Jimin laughed, "I told you it wasn't real, Jin!”

As if on cue the power went out and suddenly shrouded in darkness. Hoseok immediately screamed and followed it up with a violent slew of curses. Seokjin immediately went into a tirade against Jimin while the latter defiantly claimed it was a coincidence. "Um, guys, look," Namjoon's voice echoed throughout the dark room, and everyone turned their attention to the mess on the floor. The flowers and spices were glowing a faint pink color. Soon they started shifting as if they were being pushed by a breeze, swirling up into a glowing tornado. The boys stood in horror as the tornado burst into a bright light.

“What the fuck is happening?”

“I told you not to summon the demon! Now look!”

“We’re all going to die!”

Suddenly everything stops. The wind no longer blows, and the light disappears. Even the power comes back on.

Rubbing at his eyes, Namjoon looks around to see the men doing the same. Namjoon attempts to compose himself before flinching at Hoseok’s signature scream. In the center of the room stood a girl. An alarmingly attractive girl. At first glance, she seemed normal, dressed in a hoodie and some joggers with white sneakers to match. She didn’t even glance at the seven men in the room, her attention captivated by the cell phone in her hand and the headphones signifying she couldn’t hear a thing. But looking closer, Namjoon saw a pair of dark horns protruding from her head and a striking set of sparkling eyes with flecks of red and pink. Looking up from her phone, her smile immediately dropped from her face, “Oh fuck.”

And for the third time that night, Hoseok screamed.

Jimin wasn’t exactly sure how demons worked. After all, he didn’t believe they were real until five minutes ago. But from what he gathered so far, you were not a normal demon. Almost immediately after being summoned, you had changed your appearance, your horns disappearing and your eyes a more natural color. You merely observed the idol band lose their shit and even allowed Seokjin to tie you to a chair and attempt to banish you with a twenty-four-karat gold necklace with a cross charm that he found in Jimin’s room. Namjoon had immediately fetched a notebook and began taking notes about every detail he could find, while Taehyung bombarded you with so many questions it made your head spin.

After a good thirty minutes, the men had seemed to calm down, and you decided now was a good time as any to introduce yourself. After all, while you usually enjoyed being tied up, there was nothing sexy about this situation. In a puff of bright pink smoke, you suddenly appeared on their couch, no longer restrained by the ropes Seokjin had taken the time to put you in. You held your hands out in a surrendering motion, hoping your usage of magic wouldn’t set off another freakout. “Everyone, let's calm down. I’m not going to hurt anyone. Well, unless you want me to, but that's a conversation for later. Sorry for the dramatic entrance. It's a typical thing we demons do so that mortals have no room to deny our existence. Just some basic stuff. Anyway, my name is Y/n, and I’m your personal demon.” The boys blink in shock at your clearly practiced and polite tone, fully expecting you to take their souls and suck their blood. A minute of silence passes before you decide to prompt the men, the awkward silence suffocating.

“So, may I ask who I am speaking to? Something I can call you other than daddy?” Jungkook choked at the thought, and you gave him an innocent smile. Seokjin, on the other hand, scoffs, far more concerned about your supposed lack of knowledge about who they are. “Wait. You don’t know who we are?” This causes all seven of the men to look at you incredulously. While they never considered themselves to be arrogant or narcissistic, they found it virtually impossible that'd even a demon wouldn't know who they were. Rolling your eyes, you figure that they are no longer freaked out if they have the time to worry about their popularity, “Yes, I am aware of who you are. I was simply being polite. But shouldn’t we be focusing on the more serious topic at hand?”

Tilting his head Hoseok regards you wearily, “What serious aspects?” He was concerned that this was the moment you’d reveal your bloody fangs and kill them all. However, he was relieved when all you did was give a half-hearted shrug. “It is extremely clear to me that no one in this house summoned me intentionally. Luckily for you unlike most demons I have a passionate hatred for killing mortals so there will be no repercussions for reckless summoning.” Yoongi quirks a brow at the statement, “I thought you said you were our personal demon? Are you saying we could have summoned someone else? Maybe someone less chatty?”

Ignoring the cat-like man's jab, you decide to give the men the general rundown of summoning Eros’ demon. “Yes, I am your personal demon. Think of it as a matchmaking system. Every person has a specific type and specific needs, and I fit all seven of yours. If anyone else outside of you seven had cast the spell, a different demon would have appeared." Yoongi nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer, but Seokjin, however, was not. After furiously flipping through the pages of the book that summoned you (hoping he could find a way to send you back), he was scandalized to learn just what type of demon you were. Pointing at the maknae line accusingly he shouted, “You three idiots summoned a sex demon! Did you even read the book?”

“Woah, not to ruin the already awkward mood, but sex demon comes off as kind of derogatory, and I'm not into degradation. I’d prefer if you’d use the more politically correct term succubus.” Seokjin flushes, mumbling out a quick apology, caught off guard by your constant sexual references. Hoseok would have almost found it funny if he wasn’t still scared out of his mind at the fact that there was a demon in their living room. In fact, he found it disturbing that everyone else was seemingly okay with the concept.

However, Taehyung still had one very important question, “Where does the sex part come in?” In an instant, the serious tone of the conversation was broken. Jimin immediately slaps his palm to his forehead, Namjoon chokes, Seokjin sputters, Jungkook and Hoseok blush a furious bright red, and Yoongi nods in genuine agreement wondering how you are going to explain that. Surprisingly, you weren’t fazed by the question at all.

“I mean we could go at it now if you wanted.”

Taehyung’s eyebrows immediately shoot up at your bold statement, and you swear he's considering it. However, Namjoon clears his throat gesturing for you to go on and give a more serious explanation. With a sigh, you tap on the book in Seokjin’s hand, “Since you guys clearly have something against reading, I'll give you a basic breakdown. I’m basically a kinky therapist. I bring the spark back into your sex lives and help you explore your kinks while also helping you strengthen your relationship. I’m your personal demon so I already know your kinks now that you've summoned me. So really, my only goal is to get you to embrace them.”

Hoseok nods slowly, though he is still quite cautious. “What exactly do you get out of this? Are you going to take our souls?” Making finger guns at the dancer, you continue, “You know how vampires need blood to survive? Think of me as an energy vampire. While most just drain energy from their prey, leaving them feeling tired and exhausted, succubae choose to feed on sexual energy. It's enjoyable, consensual, and doesn't hurt the person they're feeding from, unlike most other energy ways of energy feeding.”

Every so subtly, Taehyung chimes in, "So how much sex do we need to have? Is this like an everyday thing?” Seokjin slaps the younger man on the back of the head, chastising him for speaking without tact. You only shrug as if he asked about the weather, “I can survive without it for long periods of time. It’s kind of like getting a craving for certain food and just ignoring it. Nothing you need to be worried about.”

Not knowing what else to say, the room gets quiet. It was a lot to take in in one night. Though after some consideration, none of them were necessarily against the idea of having sex with you. You were extremely attractive and seemed genuinely friendly. Fooling around with a succubus with no strings attached even seemed appealing. After all, what’s the worst that could happen?

“I’ll bet a hundred bucks that Jimin has a mommy kink.”

“Taehyung what the hell?!”

“Make it two hundred and I’ll tell you if you’re right.”

“Y/n!”

“Deal.”

“Guys seriously?!”

[twopoppies]

Yes absolutely I would do these things with him for real, I didn’t just make that list (hi it’s me, I made the list. I’m Lindsay). They’re basically all things I did when I was getting to know my best friend in Boston. They’re fun to me and also it is important to think of things we could do together not just be like “make him buy me jewels” or “go yachting/fly private to Dubai.” That’s 1- boring 2- taking advantage of someone 3- just not a cool way to be with people. Things I did not mention: gossip. No I don’t care about celebrity tea per se but everyone loves a little gossip about friends so tell me dirt and I’ll tell you dirt, Harry. Do you have a neighbor you think is a jerk? Let’s tan about them. Absolutely no hot yoga/exercising/pilates/ice baths. It’s important that we have separate interests Harry and all of those suck and I hate sweating. Don’t ask me to do it, I’ll flake. Afternoon on a sailboat/sailing lessons. IF you prove yourself to be good and decent IRL Harry, I’ll introduce you to my niece and nephew they are the best people I know and age 1 and 3. Film photography including developing in a darkroom to see how our work turns out. Share our secret favorite songs from albums that aren’t that well known (this sounds pretentious I realize but I want to play him Both Hands and Untouchable Face by Ani Difranco because I loved those songs when I was like 17 and they’re still good). Topic: animals especially the history of animals and discussing which are interesting and which are not. For example, the giant platypus as mentioned. Who was your first celebrity crush (Mine: Christian Bale in Newsies)? Roof activities- roof parties, roof drinking, roof dining, roof hanging out. Summertime is when the roof hangout is supreme. Explain London neighborhoods to me in detail and tell me what’s actually cool and what’s not and I’ll do the same for you for NYC and Boston. Like is Hammersmith interesting? Do people ever stop name dropping Shoreditch because there are actual good neighborhoods? I’ll keep it secret if necessary. Absolutely no form of Soho House and/or related properties, that whole franchise is corny and not private. Tell me about Jenny Lewis but that’s the only shop talk I’ll ask I swear. And it can just be “is she cool? Is her hair as gorgeous in person as it looks?” I just want to know if she’s cool, basically because I think she is. Falafel. Vegetarian cooking, I am very good and it is fun. Museum gift shops for coffee table books. Mixtape (or Spotify, whatever). Play records because we are being pretentious! Niche foreign beer tasting. Key lime pie. Aaaaaaaaaaand your friends can come hangout with us too Harry if they’re not 1- revolting and/or predatory in my opinion, I have veto power and James can never come. 2- interesting and engaging and not that into themselves or status or clout. We’re not instagramming our way through the hangout, we’re actually hanging out 3- kind. No jerks. Hmm I think that’s all for now but those are all things I would do with Harry if we befriended each other.

Hi, darling. I think those all sound like excellent ideas. Very well-rounded and much more interesting than the average get together. I might need to take notes. 😂

In reference to this (and the everything else in the tag)