#im beginning to hear my mothers voice in the walls. shes literally been out of the country since june 😓😓 and she wouldnt be in the walls.

[kaoharu]

i need to go to sleep. jesus christ

[apocalypticgargoyle]

𝙈𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙅𝘼𝘾𝙊𝘽𝙎𝙀𝙎. | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 (18+)

edit by @raeganlolz <3

∘ requests: I tried to use as many as I could that made sense! Hope you enjoy!

“the things i’d do to meet edgy karl’s parents.”

“ok but next time you want to write smut for edgy!karl...post pregnancy scare...karl having a fixation on readers tiddies...like the whole time. -🧚🏻‍♀️”

“i stg this is my last thing ill send in today about edgy!karl but karl letting reader dom him completely.-🧚🏻‍♀️”

“CONSIDER edgy!Karl saying ‘that's my girl’”

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader 

∘ warnings: nsfw (minors dni), mentions of underaged sex, asphyxiation, domination, this being 4k

∘ word count: ~4000 (im so sorry)

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ disclaimer: I made up all the dynamics and Karl lore. This is also an au and I do what I want so

You rolled your shoulders, twisting your back to alleviate some of the stress in your back as your mind raced at the possible outcomes of spending the weekend at Karl’s parent’s place. He seemed to deal with the situation in his own way, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips as he scrubbed the nail polish from his fingers. You wondered if his parents were sticklers for order, then again, knowing Karl, there was no way they weren’t crazy strict. You thought about your own family and what would happen if Karl were to meet your mother.

Karl seemed almost absent-mindedly going through the motions of visiting them like you had nothing to worry about. There were occasions when he even made it clear that you had your life more intact than he did, so it was doubtful they would hate you.

You peered over at him, taking your eyes off the road momentarily as he paused to blow smoke out of his window. “Why do you have to take it off?” You asked, gesturing to his hands.

He scoffed slightly, sitting up and throwing the dirty cotton ball into the small bag beside him. “My mom hates the dark colors,” he murmured, flicking his cigarette bud outside. He moved a hand to settle over your thigh, wrapping his fingers around the flesh. “Don’t worry, I’ll paint them again when we get back,” he chided. “I know it’s the only reason you keep me around.”

You snorted at this, shaking your head at his joke.

The two of you came to a small stop-over town, swapping seats after filling up the tank at the local gas station. Through the crack in the passenger window, you could hear the cashier greeting Karl as if they were old friends, smacking him on the back and walking him out the door with a smile. As Karl sank into the driver’s seat you furrowed your brows. He looked at you with a shrug. “We vacation around here sometimes,” he brushed off, making your mouth twist in disbelief. He was downplaying the extent of his family’s hold over the town.

As the two of you drove through the main street of the town, your eyes snapped to the various stores with his last name plastered on the signs. You nearly asked him about it, instead opting out as you figured he would give you a half-assed answer and only give you part of the story.

His house had its own street, a long winding road that ended in a looped driveway the size of a suburban cold-de-sac. You willed yourself not to let your mouth gape at the sheer size of the mansion as it stared back at you, blocking the moonlight as Karl opened the passenger door for you to climb out. “Stop treating me like the fucking Queen of England,” you murmured, elbowing him as he pulled on his hoodie, shaking out his hair slightly.

He laughed at you, popping a piece of gum in his mouth, and pressing his lips to yours in a nearly heated kiss as if to give you a taste of what he had in store of you. As he broke the embrace, his nose brushed against yours. “I can treat you worse if you want, pet?” He offered, causing you to shove him away from you.

“We are literally in your parents’ driveway. Chill out,” you urged, making him chuckle as he laced his fingers with yours, pulling you towards the front door. Your heart hammered in your ears as he pushed open the door. You tugged on his arm. “Shouldn’t we knock first?” You whispered, making him pop his gum and shrug.

As if telling you not to worry, he pulled you the rest of the way in the house, only to be greeted with an old man barely reaching over your height. “Karl! My god, you nearly scared the living daylights outta me!” He hooted, as Karl wrapped his arm around the old man, the two chattering away like the best of friends.

You smiled at the warmth between the two, watching Karl blossom. He moved to stand by you, wrapping his arm around your waist and gesturing to the man. “This is my nanny, Leslie. He wouldn’t leave so I think he just dusts the books in one of the libraries,” Karl joked, making the man swat the air in front of Karl.

You raised your eyebrows. “One of the libraries?” You repeated quietly as if to make sure you heard him correctly.

He smirked at you, disregarding your surprise. “This is my girlfriend,” he introduced, rather proudly as Leslie’s face lit up. He grabbed your hands and rambled on about how he had never thought Karl would introduce a girlfriend to the family.

“I thought I heard Karl’s voice. Did he make it?” A feminine tone rang out into the foyer, capturing Karl’s attention a beat before she had started talking as if he had sensed her. You wanted to smirk at the vision, knowing he did the same when he heard you.

A woman came around the corner of one of the walls, her hair and makeup applied to a professional standard and her clothes were cleanly pressed. She looked as if she had just gotten home from an office job with a corner office. Her intimidating aura vanished along with his as soon as she saw him, scooping him up in her arms as he chuckled slightly. She held him out an arm’s length away, pinching his sides and calling him a beanstalk. Another man a few years older than Leslie entered the room, draped in a flowery apron. He embraced Karl as well, the couple fawning over him like they hadn’t seen him in years.

Karl gestured for you to come closer as he showed you off to the pair, introducing them as his parents. Karl’s mom immediately embraced you, murmuring about how Karl hadn’t brought a girl home in ages let alone a girlfriend and you were quickly being to notice a theme amongst the group.

The house was massive, which you had quickly noticed was even bigger than it looked outside, as Karl’s mother looped her arm around yours, giving you the tour and explaining the extensive history of the Jacobs family and their impact on the house. Leslie and she served as some of the most entertaining tour guides you’d ever experienced as they giggling and joked. Karl walked quietly behind the group of you, hands in his pockets as he looked up at the ceilings and pictures as if he hadn’t seen them a thousand times growing up.

You peered over your shoulder, making sure he was still with the rest of you. He set you a wink, lips curling at the sight of you getting along with his family members.

After you were finally beginning to lose track of time Karl broke into the charade, and after vaguely mentioning he was tired, his mother when into a mock cuddling mode, cooing to him sarcastically, yet letting the two of you slink away for the night with the promise of finishing the tour before Karl’s brother showed up in the morning.

Soon it was just you and Karl again, him leading you up a flight of stairs. The hallways were lit with small lanterns that at one time had probably fostered candles but were now replaced with electric ones. You weren’t sure where to look as the walls were crammed with painting and photographs. Half of you wanted to admire the architecture while the rest of you was attempting to identify who the artist was that had done most of the artwork.

Karl sighed tiredly, popping open a door and switching on the lights. You bit back a smile at the view of his room in its pristine condition. The various shades of blues and greys accenting the features of his bed and various pieces of furniture. As you looked around, he threw his wallet and keys onto the dresser beside his bed, shutting the door to drown out the faint music coming from the kitchen. You sat in one of the massive chairs beside the fireplace, your mind running blank with disbelief. A fire was already burning in anticipation of his return.

You ran your finger along the seam in the leather. “When you said your family had money… I didn’t picture all,” you paused gesturing around you, “… this…”

He shrugged with a small smile on his face. “Do you wanna know a little piece of Karl lore?” He asked, smugly.

You perked your eyebrows at his words. “You know I do.”

He gestured with his fingers for you to come towards him as he walked closer to one of the massive windows. He settled his hand in the crook of your neck, turning you to look across the pond at a few of the other massive properties. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before pointing at one directly in front of you. “I lost my virginity in that one,” he stated, making you chuckle.

He wrapped his arms around your waist. “And to whom?” You queried, as his teeth nipped at your ear.

You could practically hear him smirk. “Her name was Ms. Scarlet back then, but I think she’s been married again,” he answered, making you freeze in his hold. “I think she was between husband two and three.”

“Wait, what?” You turned around to face him.

He brushed his lips against yours. “You jealous?”

You furrowed your brows at him, pulling out of his touch. “Were you of age?” You questioned, voice coming out in almost a winded laugh.

He shrugged, plopping down on the bed behind him, leaning his weight back on his hands. “Not the first time.” He smiled up at you. “She’s a friend of mine’s mom. I cut her grass that summer.”

You rubbed your eyes. “Jesus Christ,” you murmured. “Did you hook up again after that?” It was like he had opened Pandora’s box, a mass of questions echoing like bees within your mind.

He looked at the ceiling. “We stopped before my sophomore year of college, I think.” He furrowed his brows in thought. “Yeah, so almost five years.” Your mouth gapped slightly. “But only when I came back for breaks.”

“You were seventeen?” You stressed. “And when you came back from where?” You sat beside him, attempting to decide if you should be worried or not. Obviously, it wasn’t a fact you could change, but the fact that a woman had him at so young-

He hummed slightly. “Boarding school,” he mumbled, trying not to seem smug. He wrapped his arm around your waist. “I know it sounds bad now, but she wasn’t taking advantage of me or anything,” he assured. “I think you’d like her, honestly.”

“You think I’d like a woman that preys on little boys?” He snorted at your comment and you smacked his chest, making him laugh louder.

He dug his face into your neck. “Age of consent is lower here,” he continued to assure. “Baby, I’m okay.” His teeth nipped at your skin. “Plus, I don’t think I’d know how to make you feel so good without her.” That made you green around the gills. You attempted to put the thought of Karl and an older woman out of your mind. “How did you lose yours?”

You swallowed your questions, deciding to save them for another day. “In a treehouse before I left for college. With my roommate’s twin brother,” you murmured.

He chuckled. “Oh, shit. We’re both bad friends, aren’t we?” He jested.

You shook your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I was dating him, actually. It was really brief.”

“The sex or the relationship?” He asked, making two gesture two fingers into the air. He pulled away from you, sending you a small smile. “And what’s his name? I need to know who you’re comparing me to.”

You scoffed. “Clay,” you answered, the image of the boy flashing into your mind for an instant.

Karl’s demeanor changed. “Clay?” He repeated, sounding like you earlier as you wrapped your brain around the extent of the Jacobs fortune. “What does that seem so familiar…” he trailed off in thought. You perked your eyebrow at him, knowing full-well the two could have unintentionally crossed paths on campus.

The next morning, you could have sworn you were on the set of a period piece if it weren’t for Karl’s father’s golfing attire and his mother’s tight black dress as they welcomed various family members into the house. You had finally met Karl’s older brother, an accomplished man with a good job and an even more impressive education, yet each time he attempted to boast about his earnings or the progress he was bringing to the family business, he was swatted off only for his parents to gloat about Karl’s fraternity connections and grades.

You peered over Karl’s shoulder as he showed you Todd’s Instagram post, the two of you scoffing before you liked his picture from your account, making Karl roll his eyes as you snickered.

“… And that being said, renting cars is no longer a strenuous task,” Karl’s brother finished.

Mrs. Jacobs nodded her head slightly. Karl had mentioned the family joke of disregarding what his brother said, even if it was impressive or you were interested. It had been a running gag since Karl was in high school and they weren’t planning on letting up anytime soon. “Yeah, that’s neat. Did you hear Karl learned how to do his own laundry?” His mom boasted with a small chirp to her voice as if Karl were the best thing on the planet.

You bit back a laugh as his brother grumbled to himself, his wife patting his arm reassuringly. “He was also one of the most expensive at KA. Very impressive son!” His dad added, sending him a thumbs up.

You stood with Karl in the living room; his arm draped around the top of a bookshelf you were leaning against as you both listened to one of his cousins talk about a new boat they had just paid off.

Your heels felt tight on your feet as you switched the weight from one ankle to the other, leaning closer to Karl. He moved so his lips were near your ear. “Don’t let him fool you. It’s a hollowed-out log with a rudder,” he chided, making the corner of your mouth twist up.

“It’s not much, but it’s honest,” you mockingly defended. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

“Inexplicably,” he murmured back, making you laugh quietly. He let a beat of silence pass between the two of you before wetting his lips. “Say the word and we’ll find a random room and I’ll ruin your makeup,” he whispered.

You scoffed, inching closer to him while your eyes remained on the center of the room where everyone was talking. “How can you be horny around your family?”

You could feel his warm breath against your neck. “Because I’m more focused on you in that tight little dress than Kevin’s boat.”

You took a sip from your cup. “Dirty boy,” you joshed quietly.

Karl smirked at you before his eyes drifted to the front door, a new flow of people filing into the house. You noticed him grow quiet, following his gaze to a woman and a boy around your age. They greeted Karl’s parents happily before integrating into the living room with the rest of you. You could tell by the way his face twisted smugly that the woman was Ms. Scarlet. You drew in a breath as she neared the two of you.

Karl stood up a bit straighter and you bit back a laugh, making a mental note on having to tease him about his MILF. The woman smiled brightly at Karl, pinching his cheek. You attempted to piece together who the boy was and if Karl had mentioned him before.

Karl cleared his throat after they shared their pleasantries. “Uh, this is Nick, but everyone calls him Sapnap, and this is his mom… Ms. Scarlet?” He questioned the last part as she charmingly laughed.

“Oh, no darling. I’m Mrs. Donahue now.” Sapnap rolled his eyes slightly at her words, taking a sip of his drink as she winked at him.

Karl smirked. “Right, congratulations. Anyway, they’ve been our neighbors for years-”

She cut him off, squeezing his arm. “Oh, come on! We were trying to marry Karl off to one of Nick’s cousins and finally join the families, but it’s just funny how things work out,” she stated. You wracked your brain, attempting to figure out if it was a dig at you or Karl. The two of them went off on a tangent about the array of Sapnap’s cousins that Karl had had to take on dates and whatnot.

“So, you’re dating Karl then?” Sapnap asked you, more of an aside as they had seemed to forget about you.

You nodded; the fact still rather foreign to you when given the chance to think about it. “Yeah, I’ll claim him,” you joked. “Did you guys go to the same high school?” You asked, attempting conversation.

He looked at you tiredly. “Yeah, yeah. We’ve been classmates since we were little.” You hummed in interest. “I mean, since he fucked my mom we haven’t been hanging out or anything,” he added as if you had been itching to ask.

You had been.

You snorted at his words as he smiled slightly. “Sorry, that’s not funny,” you apologized, covering your mouth.

He shook his head, laughing softly. “No, it definitely is, don’t worry.”

“How did, uh… that affect you guys?” You asked, biting back your humorous response.

He seemed to relax from his stiffened introduction a few minutes prior. He wet his lips. “Honestly, there’s no going back from that, you know?”

You giggled. “No, I don’t.”

He laughed at your answer, covering it with a cough as Karl seemed to remember you were standing beside him. Sapnap’s mom suddenly spotted an old friend of hers, the two parting from your life almost as quickly as they had entered. You leaned against Karl’s arm.

“I like Sapnap,” you hummed, watching the two leave. “He seems quiet.” Karl shrugged beside you. Your mind wandered to whether Sapnap knew Todd. Part of you wished you had asked him, but you were struggling to remember Todd’s real name anyway. “Did you have fun with your lady friend?” You mocked, looking up at him.

He shook his head, biting back a smirk. “You’re my lady friend.”

You chuckled. “Oh? I thought you’d forgotten.”

Before you knew it, you were pressed against Karl in a coat closet in a remote part of the house, unable to make it to his room before his hands were up your skirt and his lips were attacking your skin. He pinned you against the door as if he were worried you would slip out of his grasp as he ground his hips against yours. His teeth grazed against your neck in a mess of hands and hair.

You pushed him further into the closet before he plopped down in a chair towards the back. The both of you shared a look of confusion as to why it was there yet shrugged and went back to carding your fingers through his hair and tugging at his lips with your own. He moaned into your mouth as you climbed into his lap, his hands gripping the flesh of your thighs before snaking up to slip into the top of your dress and take your breast into one of his large hands.

Kissing him felt strange without his tongue ring; if you weren’t so desperate to get yourself off, you would have complained about missing it.

You ground yourself on his lap, groaning at your newfound friction as he spread his legs further for you, his free hand dragging you against his crotch. You pressed your lips against his neck, biting at the skin, determined to mark him as yours. You weren’t doing it to ward off Ms. Scarlet, no. This was for you, knowing full well that Karl always wore your hickeys with pride.

Your hands went to his belt buckle, impatience taking over as you nipped at his skin, earning moans of pleasure as he let you have your way with him. He pressed his lips to your chest as you freed his cock from its cloth entrapment, stroking him with your hand. “Give me your panties,” he whispered, breathlessly as he hooked his fingers around your waistband. You obliged before angling him at your entrance and sinking down onto him. The two of you let out moans of pleasure, swallowing each other’s appraisal.

The air grew warm around the two of you as you began to roll your hips against him. Your head tilting back as you tried to quiet yourself down, knowing the last thing you wanted was for someone to walk in… again.

Karl’s fingers moved to unzip your dress, exposing your chest to his mouth as your fingers moved to tug at his dark locks. He ground his hips up into yours, a thankful moan slipping past your lips as his tongue pressed against the valley between your breasts.

You pushed him against the back of the chair, capturing his lips against your and slipping your tongue into his mouth. He completely submitted to your actions, wanting nothing more than to taste you as you began to ride him harder. Your nails dug into the back of the chair, your other hand moving to unbutton the top of his shirt and wrap around his neck. “Is she better than me?” You asked; your breath husky and demanding as his teeth flashed back at you, his leering smirk mixing with his blissed-out expression as he tried not to roll his eyes at how good he felt with you taking all of him.

“N-no. Of course not,” he groaned. His lips were pink from your teeth, cheeks flushed with lust and adrenaline as his blunt nails raked up your body to claw at your back. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned, voice almost a whimper.

You moved your hand to press your thumb to brush against his bottom lip, loving the pleasured expression on his face as he looked at you like you owned him. “Good,” you answered plainly, swirling your hips and tightening your grip on his neck before you could feel your impending orgasm nearly within reach. He almost smiled up at you. What a little freak.

You moved your hand to fist in the front of his shirt, pulling him up to press your lips against his as you bounced on top of him. He let out a deep moan before you felt him release, making you scoff sardonically. His fingers moved to grip your hips, thrusting against you harder, determined to get you to follow him. You dug your face into the crook of his neck, his teeth digging into your skin.

Shamelessly, you let him drag you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you with a flash of heat and relief. Karl kissed you roughly, desperate to taste your moans as if looking for your approval. "That's my girl," he moaned, smiling against your lips.

As the two of you straightened your clothing and cleaned up your appearances, you went for your underpants in Karl’s pocket, but he grabbed your wrist, drawing you to his chest. “You got to be on top, that means I’m in charge of foreplay for the rest of the night,” he answered, pressing a brief and sultry kiss against your lips to wipe away your shocked expression.

“Fine, then I’m in charge when we get back and I’ll send lewds to Todd,” you threatened with an empty conscious on the matter. “Just to make it spicy. Stir it up a bit,” you joshed.

He groaned, making you smirk. “You’re playing with fire,” he mumbled.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole @itgetsatadhazy

[wingsofkpop]

Hiraeth - I.I: Stay

pairing(s): Hybrid!Im Jaebeom x Reader, Witch!Mark Tuan x Reader, Werewolf!Jackson Wang x Reader, Vampire!Park Jinyoung x Reader, Supernatural!Got7 x Reader

genre: Supernatual!AU, Dark Magic!AU, Angst, eventual Smut

warning(s): Mature languages, descriptions of death and murder, violence, graphic depictions of fighting, blood and gore, mentions of traumatic experiences, etc.

word count: 6k

synopsis: How far are you willing to go to find out the truth about Moon Dye Bay?...

chapter directory

Once upon a time there was a lone seamstress who lived inside a little house in the woods. Few knew of her existence, and even fewer knew of her name, for outside the safety of the forest, the world and its inhabitants were cruel and corrupt. To relieve the weight of her loneliness, the seamstress sat on her roof every night to speak to the moon as it traveled across the black sky. She spoke to the moon about everything, from the rushing of the river current after a spell of rain to the plumpness of the round, ripe peaches that arrived in the summer, and when she ran out of elements of reality, she turned to ones of fantasy instead. She told the moon stories of massive dragons who breathed butterflies with wings of jewels instead of fire and planets where the seas were composed of golden honey and tall mountains of glass. 

The moon fell in love with the seamstress and her fairy tales, for she was just as keen for a companion. She loved the seamstress so much that one night per cycle, when the ocean tides were at their lowest, she would leave her nightly perch and join the seamstress on her roof. No one knew of the true nature of their relationship, whether they were friends, lovers, soulmates, but that did not matter, for the moon loved the seamstress, and the seamstress loved the moon in return. 

In order to show her love, the moon gifted the seamstress one of her brightest stars from the night sky. Upon consuming the star, the seamstress was blessed with abilities beyond imaginable: Gifts to heal creatures long past the point of decay. Talents in skill, wit and knowledge that surpassed the most brilliant scholars. And most notably, the miracle of eternal life. 

Outsiders soon caught word of the immortal seamstress who lived in the little house in the wood, and some sought to steal her and the moon’s power for their own gain. On a night when the moon was at its fullest, a band of malicious villagers stormed the seamstress’s home right on the very roof where she sat. The moon, unable to intervene, watched the villagers kill the one she loved. In a final attempt to best the attackers, the moon shattered the seamstress’s soul into pieces, which had become one with the star, and scattered them across the world. To this day, the ruins of the seamstress’s house still stands deep within the forests of time. On nights when the moon disappears from the night sky, some say that if one listens close enough, sobs and wails can be heard from the roof of the little home where the moon mourns her lost companion. 

Many have tried, but it is impossible to gather enough shards of the seamstress’s spirit to recreate the full power of the gifted star. It is said a piece of her soul resides inside all of us. Though in some, the magic is more prominent than others… 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

“—and then she started getting all defensive over it.” You hold back a sigh at Jihyo’s huff, not desiring to make your roommate and close friend aware that her over-the-phone rant is draining what little sanity remains within your mind. To be honest, you actually lost track of the conversation a couple blocks back, and have little clue over who she’s complaining about. Probably yet another one of Sana’s douchebag crushes “Like, I get you like him and all, but the dude’s literally an asshole. I mean, he’s stood her up how many goddamn times, and not to mention, the whole thing with Chaeyoung— 

“(Y/N)? Are you even listening?” You immediately snap from whatever headspace your consciousness slipped into at the change in Jihyo’s tone. Your hand raises to wipe the drowsiness of a twelve-plus-hour day from your eyes as you speak for the first time since you left the university: 

“Not really, honestly.” You finally release the breath in your lungs, “It’s… It’s been a long day.” 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jihyo scolds, “You know you’re free to hang up on me anytime I get too fired up. Or at least snap me out of it.” 

“I know,” You peer at both sides of the street before making your way across, pulling your jacket tighter around your body to fight the chilly, night air. “Like I said, it’s just been a long day.” 

“You can tell me all about it over some take-out, sound good?” 

“Sounds great. I haven’t eaten much today.” 

Jihyo’s grumble emerges over the line, earning an amused chuckle from your own chest. You can hear her yell something to most likely Sana, your other roommate, in the background before returning with yet another scold, “You’re in serious trouble now, (Y/N) (L/N). What have we said about skipping meals?” 

“I was busy today!” You protest, unable to hold back the smile that spreads along your lips at your friend’s mother-like nagging.

“That is no excuse!” A couple muffled sounds carry over the line, along with a hushed, inaudible conversation between Jihyo and another person. You cross another street and round the corner, preparing to cut through your usual shortcut to your apartment building, when Jihyo finally returns, “I hope you’re okay with Thai because apparently Sana’s going to die if she doesn’t get her Mango Sticky Rice...”

“I’m okay with that. You know my usual?” 

“Do you know who you’re talking to?”  

You chuckle, “Fair enough. I’ve got maybe another ten minutes until I’m home. Try not to let Sana eat all the food before I get there.” 

“No promises. See you soon, babe.” 

You hum a wordless farewell in response before lowering your phone from your ear to end the call. Without the buzz of the line and your friend’s voice to fill the silence, you finally notice how quiet and empty the streets seem. During the hours of the day, the town is usually packed with people meandering out and about in the bay’s usual nice weather. Without the sunshine, however, the nights can get rather cold, and by missing your bus, you’re experiencing that fact firsthand. 

You can feel goosebumps emerging across your skin underneath your clothing as you traverse further down the path, a flickering, lone streetlamp your only guide through the darkness. The alleyway in which you usually cut through gapes on your left, but before you enter the narrow passage, you pause to peer over your shoulder. While it wouldn’t be the first time your paranoia has emerged for little reason, considering your track record of life experiences, the sight of shadows and stillness does nothing to ease the eerie sensations creeping along the back of your neck. 

Passing the strange feeling off to the cold, you finally step into the pitch black of the alleyway, taking quicker and longer steps out of pure instinct. You pilfer through your bag, wanting to find your phone again to light your path, but as per usual, it seems to have dropped to the very bottom of the bag’s contents. A silent groan rumbles from your chest at the discovery that you’ll have to continue through the dark, or at least until you reach the opposite end of the alley. Hopefully there’s no rats or bats or—

Your entire body jumps at a loud clatter that sounds from behind. You quickly pivot on your heel to investigate the sudden noise, finding nothing but darkness, darkness and more darkness. 

“H-Hello?” Your call bounces between the brick walls of the alleyway, echoing back inside your ears. You swallow, with your throat as tight as your chest, and call again. The only sound that answers is the violent racing of your pulse and your shaky breaths. Clutching your bag closer to your chest, you begin to walk backwards while keeping your eyes trained toward the entrance you only moments before came through. The idea seems ideal, that is, until your foot catches a divot and your form collapses onto the pavement. 

It takes you a moment to recover from the fall, but you’re quick to grab one of the stiletto heels from your foot and arm yourself with as best a means of defense as you can manage. You carefully rise, shuddering as another clatter sounds from somewhere in the alley. Your eyes dart through the darkness, searching for a shadow that moves more than the rest. After maybe another minute of silence, with your makeshift weapon still in hand, you rush toward the exit of the passageway. 

A breath of relief leaves your lips as you enter a level of light where your hand is no longer a silhouette in front of your face. Using the lamp post as support, you reach down to grab the second heel from your other foot and toss it inside your bag while its twin remains prepped just in case. You can survive walking the last three minutes to your building barefoot. All else be damned. 

Just as you’re about to resume your walk home, something grabs the back of your scalp, and using the roots of your hair as assistance, yanks you back into the dark alleyway. You immediately fight back, swinging your arm as hard as you can to stab the assailant with your heel. Obviously taken off guard, the figure surrenders its hold on your hair and provides the opportunity for you to stab him again. It releases a blend of something between a groan and a growl, grabs your wrist and quite literally, launches you deeper into the darkness. 

Your body connects with a brick wall with a violent thud, stealing every ounce of breath from your lungs. You try to clamber to your hands and knees, but your right arm throbs and goes completely limp at the movement. You curse at the broken bone, but still manage to bring yourself to stand. No sooner are you on your feet, the figure, who you briefly forgot about, shoves and pins your back against the wall with a hand around your throat. 

“G-get off…!” You sputter, using your good arm to claw at its face. With speed and strength that’s mostly definitely not human, it keeps your flailing body pressed against the brick surface, yanks your arm out of the way and harshly tilts your head to the side. A loud scream sounds from your lips as binding pain erupts from your neck. Warm blood slips down your flesh like raindrops, staining the collar of your shirt crimson red. The pain is so fierce, it disorients your mind and numbs the remainder of your physical strength, leaving no room for you to fight back any longer. 

Your vision begins to grow blurry, partly from tears and partly from the painful fogginess exhausting your brain. For a moment, you wonder what will kill you first: The blood loss, the excruciating pain, or the knowledge that your life in itself is slowly slipping from your fingertips. 

You are going to die. The thought repeats itself like a broken record on repeat. You are going to die without seeing your students again. You are going to die without seeing Jihyo and Sana and all your friends again. You are going to die right here, in this dark alley, from a brutal monster that came straight out of hell. 

Just when you’re on the cusp between consciousness and unconsciousness, the figure is torn away, leaving your body to collapse to the ground. Muffled sounds of what seem to be barbaric snarls and roars spill into your ears, followed by the obvious snaps of breaking bones. Through the pitch black, you can almost make out a human-like silhouette approaching your grounded figure. 

The last thing you remember before you slip underneath the waves of exhaustion is the gentle touch of bloody hands and a soft murmur of your name. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

Familiar faces mill about the confines of the graveyard, some as bystanders, whispering rumors behind yellow-taped borders, and some as pursuers, tiptoeing around the grounds as if one wrong step will shatter the tense atmosphere like glass. From his perch leaning against a nearby tree, Mark watches the coroner zip up the black body bag with a blank expression set across his features, contradicting the cloud of sorrow suffocating the means of his soul. Even with the corpse out of sight, he can remember her face—the still-rosy cheeks, the icy touch of fingertips, the unseeing eyes…  

The coroner rises to his feet, shaking his head before turning to speak to the town sheriff beside him. Mark continues to observe as both investigators engage in a brief conversation. As if sensing his gaze, they simultaneously turn to peer his way. Mark quickly turns his eyes elsewhere and abandons his post. He heads in the direction of the crypt, attempting to push the persistent, vulgar images out of mind. 

“Mark! Hang on!” His steps halt at the frenzied call of the sheriff, providing the opportunity for the older woman to approach. She offers him an apologetic smile and an affectionate pat on his forearm. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you anymore questions.” 

“Good. Don’t think I have anything much else to say.” The sheriff doesn’t reply to his weak attempt at humor, instead mapping out the very extent of his face. Trying his hardest to keep his features neutral, Mark stares right back at the female officer—the last thing he needs is to break down right then and there. 

After another moment of silence passes, the sheriff finally speaks, “How are you doing, Mark? Really?”  

“How do you think I’m doing, sheriff?” Mark releases a sigh, “One of my friends is dead.” 

“I know.” She also expels a deep breath, running a hand through her long, brunette tresses. Her grip stiffens just slightly, enough to be able to feel her skin trembling against his. “I wish I could say something to make it better, but I can’t believe it myself—” She chuckles scornfully, “Do you have any idea who—or what, would do this?” 

“We’re trying to figure that out.” Mark replies, “Some of us are… taking it pretty hard.” 

“Until then, you and everyone else have to be careful.” 

Mark shakes his head, “Sheriff—” 

“I mean it, Mark,” The sheriff squeezes his arm so tight that Mark wonders if it will bruise. “Whoever did this knew what they were doing, and they knew what she was. Promise me that you’ll keep on your toes?” Flashes of her lifeless body overtake the forefronts of his brain even before he can help it. He hates how his stomach twists at the memory of that foreboding symbol carved into his chest—right next to the confines from where her heart was torn.  

“I promise.” 

“Good.” A breath that Mark didn’t even know he was holding escapes his lungs as the sheriff removes her hand. “Let me know if you find anything. I’ll keep in touch.” 

“Thanks, sheriff.” The sheriff doesn’t say another word, only lays one final pat on Mark’s shoulder before taking off after a group of officers hauling the body bag into the back of a large van. Mark watches as she goes, unable to shake off the feeling of her quivering fingers until she’s out of sight. 

Ignoring the staff mopping the blood-stained gravel pathways, Mark resumes his journey up the steps and inside the tall, white-marbled mausoleum. To anyone on the outside, the structure just seems like a normal place to house a passed loved one, but to the specific few, it’s so much more. The coziness of the inside somewhat eases the anxiety flowing through his veins, welcoming the warmth the flames in the fireplace provide. He gazes around the one-room building, past towering bookshelves stuffed with ancient grimoires and cabinets lined with jared materials of all kinds, until his eyes settle on a second figure standing at the lectern placed in the center of the room, flipping through the yellowed pages of a ragged book. 

“Any luck?” Mark asks, making his way through the cluttered space beside his busy companion. Youngjae glances up from the tome that’s pretty much falling apart, and sullenly shakes his head. 

“Nothing. I tried to track her blood—” Youngjae gestures to a map on a nearby table, its surface decorated with spreading crimson lines and swirls, “—but it’s weird. The trail doesn’t go anywhere. It just…doesn’t stop.” 

“What about that mark? Anything on that?” 

“I’ve gone through everything we have on runes, symbolism, hieroglyphics, but there’s nothing that even remotely resembles what was on her chest.” Youngjae pauses, hesitant to speak the words on the tip of his tongue, but with a glance at Mark, he continues, “...It’s like whoever, or whatever killed her doesn’t exist, hyung. There’s literally nothing.”  

“Shit—” Mark curses, pinching the bridge of his nose with a huff, “There can’t just be nothing! There has to be something—!” 

Youngjae shakes his head, “I don’t know what to tell you…” The younger watches as Mark picks up his book. He flips through a few pages before slamming the cover shut with more force than necessary. A moment of silence aside from the sounds of their breathing passes until it is broken by Mark’s yell as he launches the text across the room, knocking over a collection of stacked artifacts. 

“Hyung—” 

“One of our people is dead, Youngjae!” Youngjae flinches at the elder’s harsh tone, watching helplessly as he shoves a pile of grimoires across the mausoleum floor. “And we have no fucking clue who killed her and why they did it! What if they come back, huh!? What if they come for you next!? Or Lia!? Or Jisung or—” Mark’s angered tangent falls quiet at the shrill call of a cell ringtone. Mark retracts his phone from his pocket, and with a composed sigh, answers the device and lifts it to his ear. 

Youngjae watches Mark’s face carefully as it shifts from annoyance to confusion to absolute anguish. He tries to inquire about the subject of the phone call, but Mark only lifts his finger in warning. After a couple cool replies, Mark mumbles a less-than-pleasant farewell and disconnects the line. One of his hands lift to push back the strands of his dark hair while the other frantically reaches for his jacket: 

“(Y/N)’s in the hospital. Fuck, I have to—” 

“Go, hyung.” Youngjae hums, “I’ll see if I can find anything else.” 

Mark’s composure softens. Guilt begins to flow through his veins as he recalls the harsh tone he previously directed at his younger companion. Guided by his emotions, Mark reaches forward to squeeze at Youngjae’s bicep, similar to the sheriff’s actions minutes before. He murmurs, “Thank you, Youngjae.” Youngjae only nods, bending down to begin clearing the remnants of Mark’s wrath as said figure heads out the door.

The forensic team is still cleaning the blood as Mark makes his way toward the exit of the graveyard. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

The first color you see when you open your eyes is white, playing more into your assumptions that you’re currently in the beginning stage of the afterlife. As more and more of your consciousness and common sense return to your brain, the puzzle pieces of the strange situation slowly begin to slide into place. You’re not floating in a cloud at all—but in fact, laying on the most uncomfortable bed known to man. You groan, forcing yourself to sit up as to collect more clues to your surroundings. 

A soft murmur of your name and set of hands on your shoulders takes you completely off guard. Immediately, memories of your encounter with the violent creature invade your brain like water to dry soil. You flail your limbs wildly, attempting to defend yourself against the unknown figure with each kick and punch. 

“(Y/N), hey! Calm down!” The stranger seizes your wrists before you can knock his eye out, tugging your arms to rest on your lap. It’s painfully aware that his strength outmatches your own, so you make no other attempts to use force—also partly due to the gentle tone of his voice. You allow the stranger to guide your upper body back to lay down on the bed, using the  opportunity to peek at his face:

The man is despicably handsome to the point his features seem to be sculpted by the gods themselves. His face is long, with a jawline that is sharp enough to slice your finger if you were to reach up and touch the structure. You can’t tell which is more alluring, between his dark, almond-shaped eyes, or his full, rose lips. Then again, the jet black, fluffy hair atop his head is also a close third…or the milky canvas of his strong neck—

“...(Y/N)?” When the stranger speaks again, you notice a strange lilt to his voice, almost like an accent of some sorts. But like the figure himself, you can’t place where you’ve heard such a figment of speech.  “...Can you understand me?” 

“I’d hope so.” You murmur blankly, “What am I? A fucking alien?” 

The stranger’s lips curl in amusement at your retort. He pulls a lone chair closer to your bedside, not once breaking his gaze from your own. You ignore the strange shivers that crawl down your spine as he takes a seat, leaning forward to rest his forearms atop the edge of your mattress. Through the corner of your eye, you notice the multitude of wires connecting your arm to the machines stationed on the opposite end of the bed—so you’re not dead. What a relief. 

“You’re in the hospital—” 

“Figured that out already, pal.” You sigh, rolling your head back into the pillows and allowing your eyes to slip shut. The act does little to calm the storm occurring inside your mind, so frustratedly, you open them again and instead, peer at your unfamiliar companion with a raised eyebrow, “Pardon my French, but who the fuck are you and why are you here?” 

Before the stranger can settle the confusion bubbling through your entire body, a knock sounds from the door a few feet away. It slides open to reveal a woman in a white coat with a clipboard and pen in hand. With a sweet smile across her face, the doctor enters the room to approach your position on the bed. 

She outstretches a hand, “Hi, (Y/N). I’m Dr. Yoo Jeongyeon. I heard you had a pretty rough night.” Too lost inside bewilderment, you accept her formal greeting without saying a word. Dr. Yoo pays no mind to your silence, instead checking the machines at your bedside. “You should be glad Jinyoung found and brought you here.” She finishes recording the results of the pacemaker before requesting you to sit up for a moment. You do so, looking straight ahead as she checks your eyes. “You suffered a nasty concussion—”  She switches off the light, “—so how do you feel?” 

“I feel…” Your voice fades before you can give a complete answer. It’s not that it wasn’t an easy question—it’s the fact that right now, you feel great… The best you’ve felt in the past couple years as a matter of fact! But that doesn’t make any sense, especially with what you remember from the alleyway. There was blood… and you’re pretty sure your arm was broken too…

“It’s okay to be a little out of sorts. Especially after hitting your head and knocking yourself out.” Dr. Yoo assures, marking something down on her clipboard before nodding, “Everything looks great, but we’re going to keep you here for the rest of the night just as a precaution. You’re free to go home first thing in the morning.” 

“Wait, I swear I—” 

“Please let one of the nurses know if you need anything else. I’ll see you in the morning.” You watch as Dr. Yoo bids both you, and the man called Jinyoung, a brief goodnight and exits out the same door she came through only minutes ago, leaving your thoughts swirling with even more questions than before. 

You shake your head, “I didn’t fall though. I was attacked.” 

“Like she said, you hit your head pretty hard.” Jinyoung shrugs, “Your memory is probably a bit off.” 

“That’s not—no.” His face grows visibly surprised at the drop in your tone, but still retains his usual neutral aura. “I know what I saw.” 

Jinyoung releases a heavy, almost annoyed breath before climbing to his feet. More shivers attack your helpless body as he leans forward, diminishing the distance between the two of you until his nose is only centimeters from brushing your own. You can taste the mint of his breath as he speaks. Calm, collected, and slow: 

“You fell and hit your head. Nothing else happened.” Amongst his strange words, you can’t help but notice the rather unusual behavior of his eyes. The ring of his chocolate, brown irises disappears as his pupil grows three times its normal size before shrinking down to a nonexistent dot—you don’t like the familiar ghost of paranoia breathing down the back of your neck. 

“What the hell is wrong with your eyes?” 

For the first time, actual emotion lifts to Jinyoung’s face in the form of pure disorientation. He lurches backward, as if finally realizing how uncomfortably narrow the distance was between the two of you, and clears his throat. Although it’s probably a trick against the bright, alabaster background, you swear you saw his eyes once again flash to black. 

  “Nothing. It’s the lighting.” He manages to get over his confused state, or mask it beneath another layer of vacancy, before awkwardly gesturing to your cell phone on the bedside table. “I called your friend, Mark. He was the first contact on your list, so I just thought…” 

“That’s… really nice of you.” 

“He should be arriving soon…” Jinyoung, once again, stiffly points in the direction of the closed door. “I should wait outside to make sure he finds your room…” He hurries to the doorway, eager to be rid of the tension lingering between the two of your forms, and peers over his shoulder to nod, “I hope you have a goodnight, (Y/N).” 

“Jinyoung, wait—” You hurry to sit up, hoping to catch your mysterious savior before he disappears from the room. Thankfully, Jinyoung, with one foot out the door, pauses at your command. This time, he does not turn to meet your gaze—and you curse the longing that sparks in your gut because of it. 

“Thanks for… bringing me here, I guess.” Your cheeks burn as you say the words out loud, wondering if Jinyoung can hear the slight waver to your tone. You expect the stranger to nod his head, like before, and high tail out of your sight, but as always, Jinyoung does what you least expect: He turns around and delivers a tight-lipped, but surprisingly sweet smile. 

“You’re welcome.” His response makes your insides flutter, “I… I hope to see you again soon.” Jinyoung doesn’t give you the chance to return the conversation, and with one final glance, vanishes through the hospital doorway. Even with his presence gone, your body thrums with the remnants of his aura. Partly because of the lingering aftertaste of his charming presence:

—And partly because of the apprehensive feeling in your gut that grows the more you dwell on the abnormality of his gaze. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

Jinyoung never meant for the night to turn out like this. He only wanted to get out of the manor—well, get away from his brother before he broke his neck. Literally. Jinyoung never meant to catch your scent during his midnight stroll, nor eventually find you in that alleyway, where he watched as you bravely attempted to fight off that crazed, bloodthirsty fledgling with nothing but a single shoe. The logical part of his brain initially forbode his intervention, but watching how you fought that vampire awoke the remaining human component inside his soul.

—He realized that he couldn’t let you die. 

So against his better judgement, Jinyoung saved your life… and now he’s paying the price. 

“You better have a damn good explanation or I’ll hex you into the next fucking century.” Jinyoung waits patiently as Mark exits the hospital elevator, barely flinching as he shoves his body against the nearest wall. Ignoring the pure rage wafting off of the witch’s body like a Spring scent, Jinyoung raises his arms and replies coolly: 

“Please take your hands off of me.” 

“Not until you explain to how (Y/N) was almost killed by a fucking bloodsucker.” Mark tightens his hold on Jinyoung’s collar, pressing him further into the surface of the wall. “If this is because of your douchebag brother, then I swear—”

“I already told you that Jaebeom cannot turn other vampires.” He pushes Mark’s body with just enough force to free himself from his hold. “And so help me, if you try to go after my family again, I’ll kill you and your pathetic minions.”

Mark scoffs, “Just because you can’t be killed doesn’t mean you’re invincible.” Jinyoung quickly bites his tongue to hold back his retort and inhales a deep breath to calm the frustration brewing through his veins. His mind, against his own will, conjures up the memory of you sitting and staring at him from the hospital bed. Just the image of your bright, fire-lit eyes eases the tension from his shoulders, washing away whatever anger remained inside his gut. 

Jinyoung sighs and changes the topic, “(Y/N) is fine. After I killed him, I fed her my blood—” 

“Oh, fucking hell—” Mark curses, burying his face in his palms. “Yeah, everything is just peachy.” 

“It was either that, or she die from blood loss. Take your pick.” 

“We had a deal,” The witch begins, “The coven, the pack and the league would allow you and your brother to stay in town as long as no other bloodsuckers make an appearance—“ 

“I can’t keep count of every vampire that comes into town,” Jinyoung replies truthfully. “Last I checked, that’s your seer’s job.” He takes note of the painful expression that overtakes Mark’s face, replacing his frustrated tone with one of concern, “What happened?” 

“Nayeon is dead.” He feels an imaginary punch sink into his gut at Mark’s sullen answer. “She was killed a couple hours ago.” 

“Killed? By what?” 

“That’s what we were trying to figure out when I got your goddamn call.”

Jinyoung shakes his head, “I’m sor—” 

“Save it.” Mark finishes just as a couple of chatting nurses clad in sky blue scrubs turn the corner and stop in front of the elevator. Both him and Jinyoung offer the hospital staff polite smiles, waiting a couple breaths for the metal doors to slide open and the passersby to enter. Only when the doors shut and the elevator dings, is when Mark continues: “Where is she?”

“Room 116. I told her I called you.” Jinyoung quickly moves forward as Mark tries to push past him, blocking the doorway so he can’t pass. “Hang on—” 

“We’re done talking—”

“She can’t be compelled.” Jinyoung ignores how Mark tries to shove him aside, keeping his body rigid and exactly in place. 

Mark rolls his eyes, “Well, no shit. I gave her a ring infused with vervain—” 

“She wasn’t wearing it,” Jinyoung insists, “And her blood is clean. You know what that means.” 

“Are you out of your fucking mind!?” A couple surrounding bystanders curiously glance their way at Mark’s hiss. The witch releases a heavy breath before dragging Jinyoung to a more inconspicuous corner of the hallway. His voice is quieter when he speaks, “Look, I know this girl. There’s no way in hell she's anything remotely supernatural.” 

“Then explain how she can’t be compelled by a Prime Vampire.” Jinyoung argues, narrowing his eyes as Mark scoffs and turns to begin the journey to your room. He purses his lips before calling out, “I know you feel it too.” Mark freezes, but doesn’t say a word. Jinyoung takes his silence as a means to continue, “—that rush you feel whenever she’s around… like you’re the most powerful being in the world.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mark replies before peering over his shoulder to shoot Jinyoung a stern glare, “Stay the hell away from her. Or else.” And with that, Jinyoung watches as Mark scurries down the white hallway and disappears around a corner. 

Jinyoung releases a sigh, lifting a hand to run his fingers through his hair. His thoughts are scattered: Stressing about a witch killer lurking around the town… Dreading his future encounter with his ignorant, dastardly counterpart back at the manor… Pondering over the reasons why Mark lied just seconds before…  

But most importantly, Jinyoung wonders when he will be able to see you again. 

☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☽ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

Mark doesn’t understand why he’s so nervous to see you. Maybe it was the look in Jinyoung’s eyes that has him spooked, or the fact that you can’t be compelled by one of the most powerful vampires in existence. Since you came to Moon Dye Bay, Mark has been able to shield the truth of the monsters that go bump in the night from your innocent eyes—the knowledge of your resistance toward mind compulsion proves that he has to be even more careful… especially with a supernatural murderer in the picture. 

He inhales a deep breath before rapping his knuckles against the wood of the door. Your gentle call for his entry immediately lifts the heaviness from his chest. With less hesitation than before, Mark opens the obstacle and slips past the doorway into the room, his eyes softening at the sight of your body tucked beneath the sheets of the medical bed. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey, Mark.” Just the way you say his name spills warmth through his limbs, settling like a warm blanket over his heart. He makes his way to your bed to gather your figure in his arms, appreciating how yours and his bodies fit like puzzle pieces. 

He murmurs against the crown of your head, “How are you feeling?” 

“Honestly… confused as hell.” Mark pulls back at your weak attempt at a laugh to watch your face instead. His desire to caress the swell of your cheek comes at him so strong that he has to station his hands on your knees as a distraction. “I swear I was attacked by—I don’t even know what—but I don’t even know…” 

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” 

“I know, I just—don’t understand how things just got so screwed up, you know? I don’t even—Mark, what’s wrong?” 

Your question seizes his attention, causing his eyebrows to furrow from confusion. He opens his mouth to inquire about your out-of-the-blue concern, but his words die at the hand that appears on his cheek. He watches in disbelief as you wipe a tear from the edge of his eye, wondering where during the conversation he had begun to cry. Whether it’s the pure compassion in your eyes, or the traumatic encounters throughout the night, Mark doesn’t know… but he allows himself to break down in your hold. 

He allows himself to melt into your embrace as you pull him down against your body. He allows the sobs to freely flow from his lips and catch into the crook of your neck. He allows himself to be vulnerable for that one moment… because he can’t show weakness anywhere but with you. 

“I… I thought I lost you…” Mark feels your hold tighten at his whisper, “I can’t lose you… Not you…” 

“You won’t, Mark…”  For a moment, he allows his heart to trick his mind into believing your words meant more than what they’re intended for. Just for a moment, Mark actually convinces himself that here, in your arms, is where he belongs…but he knows it’s far from the truth. 

Because even though you may feel like home—Mark can never, truly satisfy his homesickness for you.

[literaphobe]

Im so sorry...is your sister a minor

yeah she’s 17. i really don’t blame her it just sucks. anyway i think i needed to work through this but its also way too long so 

lol like that was supposed to be my birthday gift but it has now become a romantic getaway for a man and his gf (who is 18 years younger than him) and my sister and one of her friends. at like. one of the most expensive hotels in the country. the same man who guilted me into giving private tutoring to 8 students at a time while i was a student because he apparently is super poor and has no money and no job. (i started tutoring for extra money and to just. have a job. because he has also given me shit about that before too. if i don’t have a job i’m like a useless baby child who he can never trust to be responsible for her own life. turns out that was just a load of bullshit to trap me. and yeah i was teaching 8-9 students at some point and i think i was like telling him hey i don’t know if this is a good idea. its a little crazy. and he was like no u should keep doing it. its money u should just earn it. we aren’t doing great financially and at some point we might need ur help paying for ur sister’s tutoring classes. and so i did and it hurt me SO much last semester. + covid but also. it was tutoring mostly lmao) 

anyway i just. the thought of everything made me cry a lot in the shower lol. like that. quiet cry where u are sobbing uncontrollably but u have to mute it as much as possible so that ur mother who’s washing dishes in the kitchen doesn’t hear it

today we had some ikea furniture delivered. and i was assembling it. and my mom told me “when we were married i was always the one putting together the IKEA furniture. ur dad would always get frustrated and give up” and then in the shower i realized that’s exactly how my dad treats me lmao. i am.... his ikea furniture

so like. i can actually trace the most recent incident of abuse i faced from him back to when. i allowed him to “help” me with my university degree transfer issues. u know. because i couldn’t do the coding degree he pressured me into doing. and wanted to do something else (i could’ve gone to my uni open house w my friends. who ended up entering the arts faculty. and i WANTED to do psychology in the arts faculty too. but my dad and his gf were there. and they just. told me if i did that i would have no future and no job prospects when i graduated. which is SO fucking funny because both of them individually. their grades were super fucking shit and they were never good enough to get into the school that i did. so they had no fucking business telling me what i should or shouldn’t do. but i didn’t know that because they lied to me. my dad lied to me about so many things to scare me into thinking i couldn’t do anything. and at this point in my life. they were still monitoring my internet usage. and there were restrictions set on my phone. mere. months. before i was meant to be a university student. even getting restrictions off my phone was a big fight i had to have. i bought my own laptop with money i made from this f&b job because i knew if i waited for them to get one for me i would be waiting forever. and i was just so fucking scared of them so i got a. ‘practical’ degree. and then slid off my adhd meds because even that felt like part of the trap they kept me in for years) 

i decided i wanted to do linguistics and become a linguistics major but my school wasn’t letting me. and it had been a year. so i let him and my mom get involved. which i had SUCH a bad feeling about. an awful awful bad feeling. i was right lmao. i should’ve known his involvement wouldn’t have done shit and would also. set me up for yet another Major Traumatic Incident. which i have spent the entirety of 2020 trying to avoid. do you know how stressful and tiring it feels to just like. every moment around ur own father is u just trying to walk on eggshells praying and hoping that nothing bad will happen. i tried so hard and it fell apart in the end anyway. he couldn’t fix this problem so he took it out on me

my school essentially texted us back saying “we get a shit load of transfer requests every year, even from students from other schools. ur grades from the classes u took aren’t good enough to justify a transfer” and like they were right. i had been off my meds. various things in life had happened. my commute situation wasn’t helping matters either (to and from was 2 hours each) and it has just. not been great. grandad passed away like 2 weeks ago or something at that point. which. may have been an underlying cause for the situation. or maybe he was always going to blow up at me and get violent and crazy. idk

anyway. i guess u could say it is ‘my fault’ for cutting off contact w my father n not speaking to him. but also. he threatened to throw me into a mental institute. and also. violently refused to let me leave the house so he could keep yelling at me. he physically would not let me. i yelled at him to just let me go but he implied that he would actually hurt me if i tried to get past him again. and he said all sorts of shit like he can be crazy too and he can be crazier than me which is something he’s said before. what triggered me to leave was. ok so in the beginning he was giving me the same thing he has yelled at me about over the years. i am super super fucking smart but i waste it all away on purpose and refuse to get my shit together and that’s somehow a personal attack on him. i can’t remember most of it by now. but anyway. i was tearing up and keeping absolutely quiet just waiting for it to be over so i could leave and go to another room. but then he started to. yell at me for crying. its so fucking ironic and weird because in a separate previous incident i was complaining about my school and how much it all was. and i was barely raising my voice but he was like woah woah stop being so emotional!!! as if he doesn’t regularly scream and shout and punch walls or whatever the fuck over the SMALLEST bullshit. anyway. he started to scold me for crying. and then he said ‘if you go out in the future and get a job are you going to cry like this too when ur boss scolds you? or are you acting like this because i’m family and you think its okay?’ as if. i have never had a job. as if i have never had to deal with a boss. bro i swear to fucking god. i am dead to most things now because of him. he can’t do shit. but. in the moment i found this so ridiculous and just SO fucking stupid that i left. i had had enough. i started laughing and i walked out and went to grab my bag so i could go. i didn’t. get very far obviously. and when my dad started threatening me i genuinely thought i was going to die. he was so angry and deranged that i thought he was going to murder me. my heart was going just. so so so fast. even tho i was just standing there. and i told him he was terrifying me (to which he said “GOOD”) and i just NEEDED to get out of this situation and get some space (to which he said “NO” repeatedly). he refused to admit that he would use actual violence to prevent me from leaving the house. he told me he would NEVER let me leave. which was fucking ridiculous. i stay at his house. 2 days out of the fucking week. he literally shoved me backwards so hard when i was trying to leave and he wanted to stop me. he also refused to admit that he used violence or was planning to use violence. i tried to point out this flaw in his logic to him. i said ur going to hurt me. he said no. i said ok then if ur not going to hurt me then let me walk past you and leave the house. he also said no again. and then our cousins rang the door at some point. so then he started to come to his senses. he was like. ‘the reason i don’t want to let you leave is because i’m afraid you’ll hurt yourself.’ which was so fucking stupid. i have NEVER threatened to hurt myself in front of him. i have never shared ANY thoughts of self harm in front of him. he’s the one who would get into massive fights w his dad and threaten to jump out of the window in anger (and i don’t even mean when he was younger. he would fight with his 93 year old dad. fucking stupid bitch). i made this clear to him that i was never ever planning on hurting myself. and then he said fine and let me leave. meaning i had to answer the door to my cousins in tears while he got to walk back to his room and lock himself in

he also. at some point during this argument, told me there would be consequences to me leaving. i guess i know those consequences now lmao. and like. i went home to my moms house. my cousins walked me there. i still haven’t told them. idk if my dad told them. my dad texted me to gaslight me. said that when he said he was going to put me in a mental hospital he meant it as a friendly suggestion because of ‘the state i was in’. and that it ‘wasn’t meant as a threat’ and like. oof. healthy suggestions aren’t meant to be yelled. anyway. i might be texting him. just to inform him about developments and to like. i guess set boundaries maybe. idk. i can’t carry on like this. i hate him and am terrified of him but. cutting him out of my life is basically inviting ostracism from his side of the family. and it’s putting so much stress on me. so. lol

[xsugarysweetsx]

Bam! Im gonna hit you with more various Honoka hcs.

⁃ So when Noka was a baby, neither her dad or Shirou knew what the hell to do with her wings.

⁃ Her first word was "Siro" which was exposed to be "Shirou"

⁃ She would fly around and their dad would make Shirou chase her down.

⁃ When Shirou and Noka were taken in by their uncle, he just slept and let her do whatever.

⁃ Their uncle, also known as Eraserhead, was a very kind guardian

⁃ He went to each of Shirou's ballet concerts, and did Noka's hair for picture day

⁃ If you looked through his search history it would be filled with "how to do a braid for beginners"

⁃ Aizawa bought Noka various art supplies and bought Shirou new shoes whenever they needed them

⁃ Didnt want them to become heroes

⁃ Cause he didnt want to see the two children he practically raised to be hurt

⁃ But because of their ties to All for One, the government forced both of them to become heros to "prove" that they had severed their bonds with All for One

⁃ Shirou's dream was to become a professional dancer and Noka's was to become a professional artist

⁃ And Aizawa was not happy that the two lights in his life were torn from their dreams

⁃ And so Shirou got accepted into the hero program, in class 1-A

⁃ He chose the hero name Shifter

⁃ Cause he could shift into any organic form

⁃ When he got 3rd place at the sports festival, Noka ran around her uncle's apartment screaming with joy

⁃ Noka is literally his biggest fan

⁃ Noka's first friend was a small purple haired boy name Hitoshi Shinsou

⁃ So naturally, she called him Toshi

⁃ And she refused to call him anything else all throughout middle and high school

⁃ Shinsou and Noka have sleepovers all the time and you can't tell me otherwise

⁃ When people would tell Shinsou that his quirk was villainous, Noka would always speak up cause she knew Shinsou wouldnt contradict them

⁃ Noka is always like that

⁃ Speaking up for others and herself. And her smart mouth tends to get her in trouble

⁃ Shinsou would fuss over Noka's wings. Like if they were dirty or a few feathers were out of place, Shinsou would sit her down and fix her wings.

⁃ "Toshi, your inner mom is showing"

⁃ "Its not my fault you cant take proper care of your wings"

⁃ When she told Shinsou about her acceptance into U.A's med course, he couldn't have been prouder

⁃ Noka is actually the one who encouraged Shinsou to train with her uncle.

⁃ But before that lets talk about Noka's time at U.A. so far

⁃ She was first introduced to class 1-A during the first combat training

⁃ Healed everyone who got very minor injuries

⁃ At the USJ attack, Shigiraki deteriorated part of Noka's hip. But her extremely enhanced natural healing abilities stopped the deterioration

⁃ So she has this big ass scar on the back side of her left hip

⁃ She wanted to absolutely murder Shigiraki for letting the Nomu loose on her uncle

⁃ But she doesnt have any damaging fire power

⁃ So she just tried to heal her uncle's wounds the best she could

⁃ Nearly gets herself killed many times with her smart assery

⁃ And gives everyone around her a heart attack in the process

⁃ During the sports festival, she helped RG heal all the students

⁃ Reprimanded Deku for overusing OfA

⁃ Oh yeah, she learned about AfO and OfA from her time with All for One

⁃ Is kind of like to Deku like Recovery Girl is to All Might

⁃ So fast foward to the internships

⁃ She interns with another oc of mine, Snow

⁃ Who is a healer but with incredible attack powers

⁃ Coincidentally, Noka was patrolling Hosu when the nomus hit

⁃ She recieved Deku's distress signal and ran to the scene

⁃ She didnt attack the hero killer, but ran to help Native and made sure he didnt bleed out

⁃ The hero killer didnt bat a single eye at her, deeming her not a threat

⁃ In the end, she didnt harm Stain so her hero guardian? didnt have to take any blame for her actions

⁃ Noka however did get nearly ripped in half by a nomu, so she had to stay in the hospital with Todo and Deku

⁃ So— Summer training arc

⁃ She just looked at her class and said "fuck this" and flew over the whole forest

⁃ She actually beat the wild wild pussycats back to the camp

⁃ She got to know Kota, telling him how she never wanted to become a hero

⁃ Kota may or may not have developed a kiddie crush on her 😳

⁃ But anyways, when everyone else saw her all nice and refreshed, needless to say they were upset

⁃ Some more than others

⁃ *remembers Bakugou nearly blowing off Noka's face because she cheated*

⁃ Aizawa just smirking at his niece cause shes so much like her mother

⁃ "DAMMIT TAKAHASHI. YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE YOU CHEATER"

⁃ "They said to use our quirks. Its not my fault your quirk is too grounded"

⁃ "WHAT— YOU WANNA FIGHT—"

⁃ "No I wanna eat, goodbye—"

⁃ Focuses on her attack and the healing capabilities of her quirk

⁃ Let me set the scene

⁃ At the beginning of UA, our Noka could barely heal up a small cut

⁃ But now, she can close up major wound with little to no effort

⁃ P r o g r e s s people

⁃ N e ways

⁃ So when they do the haunted quirk thingy

⁃ Hairi and Noka are paired up, to their delight

⁃ But they aren't able to go into the forest before the attack happens

⁃ Apparently, the league came for Bakugou and Noka

⁃ Cause the "master" wanted his first nomu to return to him

⁃ But all Deku knew was "they are after Kacchan and the master's first Nomu"

⁃ Nobody knew who the first nomu was except for Noka

⁃ See, AfO took and gave Noka various quirks, eventually ending up with her current quirk(s)

⁃ Eventually, Noka is cornered by Dabi

⁃ His fire power vastly out matches hers

⁃ But she puts up one hell of a fight

⁃ And Kurogiri took her before she woke up and fought back even more

⁃ So everyone was panicking when they couldnt find Noka

⁃ Aizawa was panicking them most

⁃ His precious niece was missing, no, taken by the league

⁃ The students had never seen their teacher so frazzled

⁃ The thing that broke Aizawa more was the look on Shirou's face when he told him that his baby sister was missing

⁃ His precious baby sister

⁃ His whole world

⁃ Shirou didnt go out of his room for days

⁃ He was there when they were to save Bakugou and Noka

⁃ All Might fought AfO, and won

⁃ But there was no sign of Noka

⁃ Shirou nearly tackled Bakugou, demanding, no, more like pleading for him to tell him where she was

⁃ Bakugou merely said "She's gone, and I dont know where she went"

⁃ The whole class was in a panic

⁃ Where was Noka? Was she hurt? Was she scared? Was she in danger?

⁃ And the question that hung on everyone's mind the most was

⁃ Is she alive?

⁃ The emptiness of Noka's desk was deafening

⁃ Their smart ass classmate was nowhere to be found

⁃ And they all felt guilty

⁃ But none more than Bakugou

⁃ For he was the last to see her alive so to speak

⁃ And her last words to him were "Forget about me ya big oaf, you hear me? I don't want you sulking, or I'll personally beat your ass."

⁃ Forget about her? How could he do that?

⁃ Noka was the only person who didn't put up with his bullshit

⁃ From day one she put him in his place

⁃ And honestly shes the closest thing to a sister he has

⁃ During the hero license exam, all of class 1-A decided that Noka would be really upset if they all sulked and failed their exams

⁃ But the fact that only Todoroki and Bakugou failed would make her fall into hysterics

⁃ When class 1-A met the big three, Mirio told them that Noka was strong and stubborn to a fault, so they shouldnt worry about things that arent in their control

⁃ To which they asked how he knew her

⁃ Apparently Shirou, Amajiki, and Mirio have all been friends since elementary school

⁃ So Amajiki and Mirio had been there a lot for many crucial parts of Noka's childhood

⁃ When the work studies started, Deku went on patrol with Mirio and Shirou, AKA Lemillion and Shifter

⁃ Shirou couldnt help but feel so much guilt crushing him when Eri jumped out of Deku's arms

⁃ Cause Eri reminded him of his little sister

⁃ Speaking of little sister

⁃ For the last 2 months, Noka had been experimented on by Kai Chisaki

⁃ In the mean time trying to protect Eri and building a loving friendship with the young girl

⁃ But ive alreadly talked about this part

⁃ So skipping to when they save her

⁃ It was a total shock for them

⁃ To see this wingless, pale, frail, bandage wrapped girl

⁃ And even more so when she spoke

⁃ Not having that bite that their Noka had

⁃ But a softer, more broken voice replaced her normally boisterous and confident voice

⁃ In the big battle agains Chisaki, Noka got slammed against a wall

⁃ Which in normal circumstances would be fine, but with her body in such a week state it immediately cracked her ribs and spine

⁃ Ochako helped get her friend to the ambulance as quick as she could

⁃ Shirou saw a fluff of pale pink hair out of the corner of his eye

⁃ He immediately turned to run towards the medical stretcher, but was stopped

⁃ He kicked and screamed something along the lines of "THATS MY BABY SISTER. PLEASE LET ME SEE HER"

⁃ In the most broken voice you would ever hear

⁃ In the hospital, after Sir. Nighteye had passed, Deku, Kirishima, Amajiki, Shirou, Ochako, Tsu and Aizawa were all waiting anxiously for Noka's surgery

⁃ When all of a sudden the door explodes open and the nurses and doctors are shoved out by an invisible force of heat

⁃ Noka was using her ability to set herself aflame and be healed in the ashes

⁃ But no one knew wtf was going on cause she learned the trick at the Hassaiki hideout

⁃ So p a n i k

⁃ But after the doctors confirmed her stablility, they all went back to school

⁃ The whole class bursted into tears when they told them about Noka

⁃ Jirou, Kaminari, Momo and Mina all being the most emotionally impacted

⁃ Bakugou was almost crying witb relief but he disnt show jt

⁃ They weren't allowed to see Noka for a whole month

⁃ Only family were allowed

⁃ She was hard at work recovering and going through therapy and they didnt want to disturb her

⁃ But when they (Kirishima, Deku, Ochako, and Tsu) did visit, they were shocked

⁃ There was this soft spoken, trembling, woman, and this was after a month of intense therapy

⁃ They hadnt event started physcial therapy yet, they wanted to get her tk the point she could be around others without going into a panic mode

⁃ Thus she needs the wheelchair

I have a bunch more random hcs but this is so long anyways. Im so sorry >_<

~Blurb~

It’s fine anon but seriously you gotta start posting!

[faunusrights]

OFFAL HUNT REMASTERED LIVEBLOG // CHAPTER 19

IN THIS EPISODE OF MURPHY IS SCREAMING, CONSTANTLY, TRAPPED IN THEIR PERFECT NIGHTMARE:

Glynda was saying: “I know we aren’t friends. I know we aren’t partners. I know you’re a criminal. But—I think I can trust you. I think I have to trust you, even if you’ve done awful things before.”

EVERYTHING GOES WRONG BUT LIKE SOMEHOW WORSE THAN EVER? LIKE A WHOLE NEW BRAND OF LOW. LIKE CINDER’S GOT A PICKAXE AND THE CENTRE OF THE PLANET CALLS FOR AID.

IT’S BEEN A WHILE HUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but dw offal hunt, like the rising of the sun, the arrival of winter, and the eventual downfall of capitalism, always returns. so lets go.

(i just quickly reread chapter 18 liveblog to remember what happened and Ah Yes I Remember Now. The Suppressed Memories)

The place was emptier without Glynda. Quieter.

/gunshot oh we’re in danger right out of the gate huh? we got some yearning right out here? right now? how quickly the turn do tables.

Cinder appraised her work, holding the beige coat up to the light and squinting.

man i forgot. i FORGET. how much i just love cinder in this fic. sometimes she kinda zones to the back of my mind where she sits waiting for me to start thinking about her again, but now i remember that this cinder is Peaque. look at her GO, minding her own BUSINESS. im proud of her. does she know i love her.

It didn’t take long to don her new, fire-proofed clothes.

in another world, in a more comical plot, she used asbestos. it didnt go well.

The subtle warmth of the Dust teased tension from Cinder’s stiff muscles, even as she marvelled at the strangeness of her own bedroom’s space. It seemed bigger now than it had the last two nights.

h

She chose not to dwell on it.

h

i choose to dwell on it! ME!!!! I CHOOSE TO DWELL ON IT. HEY CINDER WHAT THIS GAY SHIT. hello. ma’am. can we look deeper into this. i, for one, would like to, and i, for one, think its of value to think abt this. that said, small segue

Quietly, Cinder murmured, “I didn’t freak out.”

THE FACT SHE SAYS IT ALOUD LIKE EM AND MERC CAN HEEEEEEAR HEEEEEEEER i am. INFATUATED with this family. cant wait for the 100k spinoff thats basically an elongated beach episode where they go to like. alton towers. or butlins. six flags??? thats a thing in america right??? anyway. beach episode. call me. (wink wink nudge nudge push push shove shove)

 We had to stop back in because Merc left his favorite binder, and it was 2 in the morning, so it was easier to crash here for the night than mess with the ship’s autopilot.

them,,, THEM!!!! mercury is just a son and childe. thast it. he canot change this. i love these kids so much i am SHAKING THE MONITOR RN!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAA

Stuck here in one of the homes they’d shared, Cinder missed them terribly. Missed the sound of their voices and the easy comfort of their presence. Finding the time to contact them had been difficult, between managing Glynda and Hati both, but Glynda was gone, and she’d sent Hati onwards to Atlas. She remembered her call with Emerald, before arriving in Umbraroot; she knew it had not soothed her or her fears.

im sorry was this chapter targeted at me, specifically, as a human being on planet earth? GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THIS FAMILY!!!!!!!!! THIS WONKY OLD BANDAGED UP FAMILY UNIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! i thrive every time they are mentioned on the page. it is a blessing. my succulents grow stronger each time they show up.

“No,” Cinder argued softly, “I had to. Mercury, you deserve to hear it from me as well. I am sorry. And I am promising you: I’ll come back.”

For a long, heart-wrenching moment, he was completely quiet. It was good that Cinder was alone in the apartment; laying herself bare like this would be unbearable with an audience.

GODDDDDDDDDDD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

i am OBSESSED WITH THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM GOING TO BE THINKING ABOUT THIS UNTIL I D I E. of all thing the remaster does better than og, this is just. SPEEDING AHEAD. this whole CONFLICT this whole MESS just makes everything so much RICHER its like when u splash some wine in yr fancy food or stick some cinnamon on yr favourite desserts u dont NEED TO but it adds that lil SOMETHING,,, that little KICK that just ties the flavour profile together and in this case ofgughugguhu it just GIVES SO MUCH. im making SNOW ANGELS in the WORDS on the PAGE.

“Mercury. If I could prove it to you, I would. But you have to—trust me. For just a while longer.”

“It’s getting harder,” he said. He didn’t sound like he was lying just to hurt her. That wasn’t spite. That was honest anger. And it made her feel like dirt.

im less picking these for specific instances of like, things i want to say, but more just because bits of this r rly just so /chef kiss. cinder has these.... endearingly (take that whichever way u like) human qualities in OG to rly make u realise she had ties to add to her #Doubt but the remaster is just AMPING it up and u FEEL IT and ive never been more SYMPATHETIC to a round-faced sinnamon bun of assholery and fire id DIE for cinder fall and this is a fact PUT IT ON MY GRAVESTONE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Is there anything you need?” What was this? Cinder could barely focus on her words. It felt like... “Anything? At all?”

“We’re fine.”

“Mercury, wait please—” She was losing him. “I think—”

“Just hurry up.”

The line went dead.

this place is not a place of honor.................. no highly esteemed deed is commemorated here........................ nothing valued is here................ IM DYING

Cinder began to type out her response, and that was when the nausea really kicked in. 

[...] 

She recognized this now.

Glynda.

stress stress stress stress STRESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

There shouldn’t be anybody. Cinder had done everything in her power to cut Glynda from people who would interfere. To isolate her. Make it easier to bring her to Atlas, to the frozen north, to her mother and the machine…

Cinder’s esophagus quivered; furiously, she shut her eyes and thought of nothing.

god cinder don’t remind me that you’re an asshole and dipshit and also a moron im trying to be NICE and CARE ABT YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP REMINDING ME YOU’RE A PIECE OF SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The front door clicked open.

Cinder couldn’t have said how much time had passed, only that it had passed slowly. What she did know was that it was Glynda returning, the sensation of boils bursting wafting off her soul. It crawled over Cinder’s flesh. She curled in on herself.

There were mites under every nailbed. Salt in her weeping mouth.

offal hunt’s brilliant use of this horror aspect is something i have tried previously to emulate and here’s a fact, take it from me: that shit is HARD. offal hunt consistently able to whack those real nasty, really Disgusting vibes on the head EVERY TIME is a work of art. i mean, kc and diesel do not fuck around, and therefore i am NOT surprised, but it’s only when u try this shit yourself that you realise: this is hard! this is difficult! it’s a huge testament to how GOOD this fic is in every way. also this whole fucking body horror aspect is something i didnt know this fic needed, but it did, and here we are. 

Thickly: “Things were going okay. If you hadn’t gotten nasty, I might have smoothed things over. I could have fixed things with my son.”

with my son

with my son

with my son

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I CANT TAKE IT EVERY TIME ITS TOO MUCH FOR TO BEAR I CANNOT HANDLE IT I CANNOT STAND IT ITS LIKE BEING SHOT JUST DIRECTLY IN MY DICK

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

im like sweating rn

Glynda said, “I’m scared.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

I SAID IM SWEATING

Glynda asked, “Are you lying to me?”

And Cinder said, “What?”

“About me. About Witches. About Ozpin—” Cinder’s guts went sour. “—About anything. I need to know if I can trust you.”

I SAID I! AM! S W E A T I N G

“I know you’ve lied to people. Hurt people.”

Adrenaline and the image of her kids’ faces behind her eyes made a potent, sick cocktail. “—Not. Now.”

so lets like double back to when i said hey was this chapter written to target me specifically and as it turns out, yes. yes it was. yes it was and as MUCH AS I AM LIVING FOR THIS MOMENT THIS SWEET BUILDUP THE EXPLOSION AND THE CRATER IT ALL LEAVES BEHIND

I

AM

so this next bit is like. i cant really quote one section but as i was saying in Vague DMs, this whole bit feels like wading through mud. usually if you say something consumes energy to Read it’s in a Bad Way when yr bored but this is more like. you Feel cinder all over everything feels so sluggish and it’s like dragging your own corpse around as you try and leave and you’re TIRED and your LEGS HURT and you’re kinda thinking god what if i just fell face down for just a moment of my LIFE.

The putrid weight of Glynda’s soul filled the room until there was no space left for her.

it’s like being trapped in a sauna, like getting stuck in a humid waiting room. where do you GO. what do you DO. god this whole section is fantastic and offal hunt NEVER fails to fucking nail the Vibes but reading it is HARD. i literally keep having to stop and breathe like ive been holding my breath. jesus h christ.

a small intermission for a mood:

“Get fucked.”

back to regularly scheduled hell

Out of the bedroom. Down the hall. The walls were sweating with heat. She tasted smoke. 

i love that i just said how i feel like im trapped in a sauna and it turns out: thats because me and cinder both, baybee!!!! hahahaha help

Glynda’s soul chewed her to the marrow. “Move, Glynda.” 

cinder being hunted at the start of this fic: teehee! im running away! now im gonna getcha! heehee! arent i clever :) cinder being hunted now: this uh. this blows, actually,

Cinder’s pulse roared in her ears. Her hands twitched. She smelled Ochre Brown’s round face melting off. His wide smile shattered with each of his teeth, going black and popping like corn.

this chapter is probably my favourite so far for this blending of so many elements. i cant even begin to like. THINK STRAIGHT about how all of this is tying together. the lore. the THEMATICS. like i said this character rly is just Rich with what og lacked and oh is it RICH. im gonna read this chapter in future and see so much that i know ive already missed. holy shit.

“Ms. Fall,” she said. “The White Fang requires your presence immediately.”

NOT NOW

Cinder stood there looking at it for a moment. Her thoughts were slow. Copper-tinged. Something small and indulgent whispered to her through the blood-fog.

It was obvious enough what would happen if she got into this car. The driver would take her to a secluded place, where she would be ambushed by a squadron of battle-hungry White Fang grunts.

They’d try to take her down. And she was a killer, wasn’t she? Ochre Brown wailed in her ears with every thump of her runaway heart. Her hands itched for action; her teeth, for blood.

She’d burn them black.

never mind! you are already dead,

She thought about Glynda. About her saying that if there was trouble with the Fang, she wanted to come. That she would fight for Cinder.

She thought of Glynda’s question: What aren’t you telling me about Ochre Brown?

Yeah, fuck that.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!! WHAT A CLIFFHANGER!!!!!!!!!! WHAT A MOMENT!!!!!!!!!!!!! MORE MOMENTOUSLY: WHAT A CHAPTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this is EASILY my favourite chapter so far. EASILY. everything about this was peak offal. the relationships. the dynamics. the dialogue. the vibes. the Grossness. the fighting. the EVERYTHING. this is some other level and its BITCHIN. PEAK. that said im now very tired. im going to have a cup of tea and Consider Things for a few hours. brb.

[theworldwithoutmagic]

Decompression - zutara ff

Just wrote this oneshot thursday so its CONTENT HOT OFF THE PRESS. 

Im fresh off a rewatch of A:TLA and I finished Southern Raiders on wednesday with a Mighty Need to write a missing scene. I was so striken by Zutara feels that I had to bang out this one shot in a single day.

Here is 3000 words of shameless enemies-to-bedsharing-trope. Set in missing scene during Southern Raiders.

I really need feedback as iv never written zutara before and idk if I have their Voices down. concrit welcome as id like to improve before a longfic. PLEASE message or comment. 

i also need blogs to follow..

So here we gooooo

—————————————–

Katara and Zuko stop to rest and talk about what happened that day. They get a little closer than expected. Zuko wonders how he became so lucky.

Zuko looks up from Appa’s saddle at Katara, seemingly just as determined to get back quickly as she was on the way here. She is beautiful, he thinks to himself not the first time, even now leaving the scene of an almost murder. Her wrists were flicking occasionally, bending the water in the clouds around them to give them a modicum of safety from any eyes that might look to the skies. He knows she must be exhausted at this point. He saw see the circles under her eyes hours ago. Appa himself is starting to slow down and he knows this pace can’t last forever.

“Katara, we have been flying for hours and Appa needs to rest.” He didn’t mention Katara herself. He knew without asking that she would not appreciate any comments on her ability to keep going. He hoped she might stop and process some of what happened today instead of going full speed back to their training regimen. His uncle would have said so, at least. The day was a lot more intense than even he expected.

“What we need is to get back to Aang. The comet is approaching and this was a waste of time,” Katara said.

“We won’t make it back to Aang at all if Appa collapses and we land in the middle of a fire nation village. Look at him. His eyes are starting to droop.” It was true, the bison was not at full strength. Katara did not turn around but her shoulders dropped a bit. She wouldn’t want to hurt Appa.

“So, where do you have in mind we stop? This is the middle of the fire nation and you are pretty hard to miss,“ she said.

“We can make camp in one of the many caves in this region. Look how rocky it is down there. I know that is how your gang usually hides from the fire nation. I think I see a decent spot down there right now,” he pointed down to an outcropping of rock high on a hillside, protected on all 4 sides from direct view.

Katara remained silent. “If this is some kind of trick Zuko…”

He tamped down the biting response he wanted to give. “Katara, I would not have come here with you and helped you find a firenation ship and captain just to trap you in a random cave. Appa needs rest, that’s it. So do I. and you,” He said, the last bit under his breath.

“Fine.” She said, after looking him in the eyes and finding some answer she wanted. “But only until sunrise. We don’t have time for this.” She snaps the reigns and directs Appa back around towards the overhang. He is relieved she agreed.

When they land, Zuko inspects the cave. It’s not so much of a cave as it is a large overhanging rock. It’s not deep, but big enough to hide a bison in. Unfortunately, he deduces they won’t be able to have a fire tonight. The smoke and light might attract too much attention. They will have to eat from the dried stores and sleep in the dark. He knows Katara will agree with him about the fire. Katara…

He had no idea she was so strong. He keeps thinking back to the sea raven ship. He is pretty sure she bended a living person. Not supposed to be possible, but he guesses there is much he does not know about water bending.

Even now, her back is ramrod straight and she is standing in front of her bedroll a little lost looking now that they arent moving towards a goal. He promised to help her on this mission but he is the last person who knows how to help her with the aftermath. He isn’t sure what he expected from this trip.. things went very differently than he imagined. She needs to talk her brother or Aang or literally anyone other than him, he thinks. He considers that he might be a monster for even suggesting this murder mission as he leads Appa under the rocky overhang.

With the Bison in the “cave” with them, there is not a ton of room. He puts his bedroll by Katara’s where there is a little space and dry ground and pulls out the last jerky they have. Its stale and he thinks he can start to taste the beginnings of mold on his piece. They were preserved in a hurry and it’s been a little too long since the group resupplied. But its food and it’s all they have. He holds one out to Katara.

“Uh, you should eat something.” He tries, “It has been a long day. We have a lot of flying to do to get back to Aang.” Damnit, but it’s not just about the flying. He doesn’t know how to breech this subject.

“Of course we do, Zuko.” She whips around, “I am fine. I didn’t even want to stop.” She still takes the jerky and rips into it. She finally leans back against the wall of the cave, sitting on her bedroll. He watches her face and almost panics. Her eyes are shining with unshed tears and she is nowhere near sleep tonight. It races through his mind again that she faced her mother’s murderer today and is somehow still standing.

“Ok.” is all he says for a while. He has to say something else. What would uncle say? What would the Avatar say? He doesn’t know. He knows she might need more than he can give. In the end he says nothing and silently berates himself. He knows sleep will be a long time coming for both of them.

It starts to rain. He looks out of the wet, terrible cave into the storm. The rain is beautiful in a way. It runs in shining rivulets down the other pale rocks, the nearly full moon reflecting in the puddles, and he tries to imagine what it would be like to bend water instead of this horrible fire. He starts talking and hopes he’s not ruining things again.

“The rain is nice. I’ve always loved the sound. As a child I never hated the rain as much as the other fire benders in the palace. The rain restored the land. Brought life back to the burn scars in the garden from our training.” Then, as an afterthought, “The turtleducks loved it, too.” He thinks that’s what got her to speak.

“It never rained in the south pole. Always snow. I didn’t see the rain until I left with Aang. Standing in the rain for the first time and feeling the pull of each raindrop at the southern air temple is one of my favorite memories.” Katara said. She is staring into the growing tempest outside now too. “I always hoped I would get to see it. My mother used to tell me about the rain from her travels with dad.”

She is sitting against the wall very close to him. The thought crosses his mind that if he scooted over, he could reach out and touch her. He doesn’t think he should. Instead, he quietly, so quietly hes not sure she can hear it over the rain, asks, “Do you want to tell me about her?” He closes his eyes and waits for the anger.

“I would like that.” She whispers. “My mom was not a bender. Her father and both of her sisters were. She lost them all to the fire nation before I was born.” More pain and suffering at the hands of his people, he thinks to himself. “My mother was still powerful in her own way. I remember she helped our tribe remember how to create houses without water benders. There was a while we thought our tribe could not survive without benders to keep the ice at bay. How would we do anything without benders to make new ice houses? But she figured it out.”

Zuko realized all over again what cruelties the fire nation had forced on her people. Taking away the benders of a tribe completely reliant on it for survival. It was only through sheer force of will they were still here. He lets her continue.

“My mother was the best cook in the village. Sokka thinks my cooking is good, but I learned only a little for her before she die- before she was killed.” Tears leaked from her eyes now and her voice shook. “The worst part is Sokka is right. I barely remember her now.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s not enough, especially from me. I really hoped that by taking you to her killer I could help you. Help you get closure and a bit of payback. I see now that was a mistake and I’ve made it worse” He chokes out. The whole trip was a mistake. She would never trust him now either, being reminded of all the sins of the fire nation.

“It wasn’t a mistake. Zuko I thought that by coming here I could finally get revenge. Aang was right about that. I was not seeking justice or closure. If my mother’s killer had been that man on the ship, I think I would have killed him.” 

The man she had.. bended. He knew she was not lying right now. “Katara, whatever you did to him, he.. he deserved it.”

“No, he didn’t.” She was still trying to hold back her tears and failing. “I bended his blood Zuko. A technique I swore I would never use. I was just so angry! He had the gall to stand there on the ship meant for raiding my people and claim he didn’t know what I was talking about. Probably just coming from another murderous raid against another town. There was water everywhere, we were on a ship! But I reached inside him and took something that should never be taken. I could do that right now to you, or anyone else.”

Zuko’s eyes widened. Blood bending. He hopes that man never realizes what exactly she did to him. The fire nation would not stop until every waterbender was extinct if they knew that was possible. He is in awe of the woman beside him. “Katara, I think you are amazing.” He blurts out, before he can even explain.

She barks out a half laugh, “What? Zuko you SAW it-” 

“Yes, and that is the first time I have ever seen it. Iv chased you all over the world and seen you fight many times. All those times, you didn’t use that power. Do you know what the fire nation would be doing with that power if they had it? Marching people right into prison camps. Stopping a whole fleet of human hearts before the battle even starts.” He meets her eyes now, “But this blood bending you can do… you didn’t even hurt the man with it. If there is one place its justified to lose yourself, I’d say on your mother’s killer is one. The restraint you show in not using it against every one of your enemies, your enemies who have murdered your family for generations, is more than I have ever had. I would use any weapon at my disposal against Azula or my father if I thought it would give me an edge. You’re nothing but good and even more powerful and amazing than I thought.” He means it. and he hopes she can hear it in his voice.

She only cries more and he thinks he’s made things worse, his eyes close and his heart drops- then he feels her hand on his shoulder. “Is this ok? Zuko, I.. I don’t want to sit alone right now.” She looks exhausted in the weak light of the moon filtering through the storm as she leans into him. He almost forgets to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine, this is.. this is fine.” Zuko doesn’t know what to do. He has never been able to comfort anyone with his touch. He slides his arm around her shoulders because thats what it seems like she wants. She exhales shakily and turns further into him and his heart skips a beat. She is warm in the chilly air and clinging to him like she needs it to breath. She is almost in his lap and he has already never been this close with anyone.

“I’m not as strong as you think Zuko.” she whispers into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry for how angry I’ve been at you. I knew this whole time, ever since the South Pole, there has been good in you too. I just didn’t want to be wrong again, after the crystal caves so I lashed out. I was fighting my instincts to trust you. This journey just proves to me again that I was right from the beginning.” A pause, her tears coming harder. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now.”

“Il do whatever you need of me Katara.” He says quietly, instead of what he wants to say. I need this too. You are stronger than I think. Don’t ever leave this spot. He tightens his embrace and she does too.

They listen to the storm outside. Finally, Katara sobs openly against him. He rubs circles on her back and lets her cry. He doesnt press her to talk anymore. He breaths into her hair and can’t pinpoint what he has done to earn this trust, but he will do everything in his power to make sure she is never this upset again. If he has to personally kill every fire bender who has wronged her. Eventually her sobs clear and she relaxes, still not letting go of his shirt. They fall into steady silence, with only the sound of the rain outside, and he can only think of how wonderful it feels to be a comfort to another person instead of a source of pain. 

It gets steadily chillier in the cave and he eventually releases her to reach for her blankets and pull them over her shoulders. He’s not going to push her off anytime soon, he will let himself freeze to death and not sleep a wink if she needs it. When he brings his arms back around, Katara still doesn’t speak and pulls them down from their sitting position leaning against the wall. His heart is about to beat out of his chest and he knows she can probably feel it. She pulled them so he’s lying down on his bedroll and placed her head on his chest like she means to sleep this way.

Zuko is absolutely frozen. One of her knees is resting on his thigh, her arms are around his torso, and she is so soft. He wants to curl around her. He wants to express something unnamed.

“Zuko, you home?” He can hear the smile in her voice. At least she is feeling better, his racing mind supplies. “I hope this is ok too. Please.”

He stiltedly brings his arms back around her now prone form. He lets one of his long legs tangle with hers. His shirt rides up and her fingers are quick to find a bit of his skin. He doesn’t know if this is right but it feels like it is. He sighs and tries to live in this moment forever before he speaks and ruins it.

“Katara, I just don’t want you to regret any of this tomorrow and realize that I’m the enemy again. I don’t know if I can take it if you hate me again tomorrow.” He admits. He pulls her even closer anyway. Every part of their bodies touching. Gods she feels so good against him. Like she was made to be there. Why has he never done this with anyone before? “And iv never…” He tries to pick the right words. “I’ve never been this vulnerable with anyone.”

“I promise you that I won’t hate you again. I’ve wanted to trust you for so long and truthfully, I already did. I wouldn’t have come with you if I didn’t.” Katara said, “This was not easy for you either. Offering to take me across the world where we planned to murder a man from your country in cold blood. I would have never known who killed my mother without you and no one else in my entire life would have come with me for this. Aang and Sokka never understood what I needed and they still don’t. I love them both but I knew you wouldn’t judge me no matter what I chose, even if I was rude to you this whole time.” 

“I could never judge any choice you make.” He shivered and lowered his face to her hair. “I’ve admired you since I met you. Even when I sent pirates after you. I really hoped you would choose my side then. I’m glad you didn’t now.”

Katara seems embarrassed for a moment and squirms. He jerks slightly when a knee brushes an intimate part of him and he feels a slight grin from her against his shoulder. He has no idea if that was an accident but his head is spinning. She speaks, “I know fire nation royalty aren’t particularly touchy feely.” She runs a slender hand down his ribcage and he struggles not to let on how much the sensations are affecting him. “but my people are. and it has been what seems like a lifetime since anyone has just let me cry and comforted me like a human. Even when I was still at home.. our village lost so many of its softer customs to the demands of war.”

“The only people who have ever even hugged me in my entire life were my mother and my uncle, Katara.” He admits, embarrassed too. “I.. you.. this is nice.” he settles on. Nice doesn’t even begin to cover it.

Katara only hums. He feels her sigh contentedly and hopes she is done teasing him. Katara is pushed against every plane of his body and he thinks his heart might still fail from how lucky he is to have earned her trust despite everything between them. Her breaths slow until he is sure she is asleep. The rain still falls outside and he watches her and he watches the rain and just feels until finally the warmth and contentment begins to pull him toward sleep. His last thought is about how he hopes he will get the chance to do this again one day… tomorrow they have to go back to the Avatar and face their destinies.

[postcards-to-home]

Split Seconds: 2019

Amongst the dozen or so strangers around me I sit nuzzled between rows 6 &8. Philly lies some 10,000 feet below. The engine purrs softly with each flutter my eyes drift effortlessly towards stillness under the perpetuating night sky.

In dreams I see the faces of those I’ve met haphazardly in my travels. The students I bond with over memories of cheap wine and late-night thrills at Manly corso; the elderly who sit and chat with me about their grandchildren and medical procedures; even the uber drivers who share their love affairs found from words with friends. It’s the everything in-between crisscrossing the unconscious mind.

My new life I remind myself is in constant motion and so must I be. Zig-zaging terminals I curse under my breathe, praying to the lord for an on time departure. With my best friend in tow, my dingy gray suitcase, my day is a constant uphill battle of avoiding my ankles and slow-poke people.  A love affair in the constant throws of “F*ck my life,” & “ I have the greatest job of all time,” (said no one ever).

Mentally I was trained for this. Laughably this entire year I have captured a total of 3 weeks combined training from the two firms I have been employed by- and I can say I think I’m doing A-ok. My 1st job out of college I learned its okay to decide if something is or isn’t right for you. Its 100% okay to move on too- and fast, if a better opportunity arises. It also taught me the value of obtaining strong leader figures in the office. Not necessarily how to be a manager but how to observe what works, how to engage with others effectively and ultimately how not too.

Mistakes are inevitable.

On my very 1st business trip to Hunt Valley, Maryland for whatever reason a conversation was provoked among an older gentleman and I and we chatted the entire way. Come to find out this sharp older gentleman was once the CEO of a hospital in the capital district; a professor at USC and was heading south to see family. The value from this conversation will always be intangible. It was  the 1st time in my professional life I was able to speak not only about who I am as a person, But I  had someone engage in a conversation with me for no other reason than pure interest, and in a non- creepy way. We spoke of antiques, my on again/off again ebay career and content of college curriculum. He explained he managed a young Entrepreneurs group on campus and worked with students to gain shareholders in their startups.

Before we departed ways he said , “Thank you for the lovely chat, I feel deeply that you will be successful one day with whatever you choose to do. You should feel really proud of yourself with hat you’ve accomplished.” (Paraphrased)

It was his words that propelled me into an orbit of motion, setting what would be the tone for the year. In that moment I etched realization into my mind that my abilities generate power I never was aware I held. There was my small voice-heard and admired. Channeling it to engage the right audience became possible after that.

I left my 1st job after just 6 months. Without any regrets.  I sincerely miss mid-day banter with some of my co-workers, but thankfully we still stay in touch.

The road leading to my departure was a rocky one. Still living at home, thankful for my parents gratitude and safe haven I couldn’t help but feel left out of the mix from my peers. While they rounded of  their senior years I was strapped to a desk sifting through excel spreadsheets. In no way did I ever want to back track into the college scene, making money is and always will be exciting. But doing what I was doing, well not so much.

I accepted a position as a Regional Manager for the institution I studied abroad at as many of you have recognized. I am sincerely thankful for the support received throughout this half of my journey this year. I travel, I meet with students both future and former, I do paper work sporadically and I idle at my desk when necessary. It has forced me to both think outside of the box as well as use my voice as the ultimate creative outlet and driving force for success. My soundboard-everchanging day to day.

Through my position I’ve managed to make student’s dreams come true a reward I’ll never take lightly. Its become my daily excitement to hear from students their own excitement about their journey ahead, even having the smallest footprint on their pathway to success has become gratifying in its own respects. Then there are my travels, though sporadic they have led me to meet old friends from my own time studying abroad and new friends alike.

The entire essence of meeting people has opened doorways never thought possible. The most delightful part of 2019 has been meeting others and hearing their own words of insight and stories they too long to share. Spending more time than intended on park benches with near strangers discussing their time in an indigenous tribe in brazil is just scratching the surface of my amusement. It’s a small victory for the once shyest little girl ever.

As I write this it has been 1 full year to the day since I have graduated. In that small span of time I celebrated the New Year in Iceland with two of the most important people in my life, Nick & Jay. We managed to survive Iceland in January, watch the fireworks at Hallgrímskirkja church on New Year’s Eve and not throttle each other after every petty argument, including the 20 minute screaming match that included phrases with “fiber one brownies” and “stupid , useless bitches.”

And then there was Australia. After visiting for the first time in a year in a half my heart felt fully mended. The winters chill couldn’t hold me from breakfast by the beach or wearing my heels to dinner with friends. Being reunited with people who changed my sense of self left that full circle feeling. Yes, quite literally I could have floated into the sun. That is until I had to venture home yet again and my whole world felt displaced yet again. I will live here one day I said outloud, despite what my dad whispers to my mom, “that will never happen.”

Even jay, My bestfriend came to Oz and fell in love with my world.Our trip in November couldn’t have been anymore magical. We soaked in the sun on the beaches of Noosa heads, swam in exotic Tea Tree Lake feeling rejuvenated and watched the sunrise at the Sydney Opera House. Skipping through the Royal Botanical gardens smelling flowers I knew life was grand. Nicole Reine was the Queen on the moment, just like my name says. To have jay wander through the castle I lived and Worked in let nothing but utter giddiness in me. Christmas came early and we couldn’t have enjoyed ourselves more. I will live here one day, felt firmer.

Some of my favorite moments were those sitting in the shed with loved ones after their returns from long journeys: Nick, Tommy, Grace and Emily. We all sat and shared stories from far away places as our minds melted to mush, the sun setting lower in the sky and the colors over Willard mountain fizzled from golden hues to cooling colors of the night sky. The small talks lingered near the kitchen table not on or next to but just around, the dogs lied close by, fading to sleep on the hard wood floors mom never could keep quite clean. It’s the comings and going that are hard to keep up with. But those moments always end as quickly as they come.

It’s a strange thing to realize the moment you leave your childhood home it will never be exactly how you left it. The stars you won at an arcade in Myrtle beach and hung on your ceiling will eventually come down. The color of your walls once chosen with excitement, will be painted over with fresh shades of cream your mother likes. And the emptiness of what once was but never will be, will swallow you whole. I realized this sad feeling creep up as I lay on my empty bedroom floor with my mom and dad huddled tightly around a pile of buttons. Not justa a pile but a ginormous, 40 pound pile of buttons once held safely in their jug, now shattered sharply amongst us. That’s what happens when you leave. Everything shifts, and somethings just can’t handle that. But I sure am sad about that jug of buttons, it was a lifetime labor of love collecting them.

There’s no jug of Buttons in our house on Center Street and im beginning to feel okay with that. Gramma’s blue oriental rug keeps our living room feeling nice and cozy. A small reminder she would have adored the space Jay and I call home.I can almost picture her now tinkering with my knick-knacks on the shelves, just ever so slightly so we wouldn’t notice. Marissa comes and goes as she pleases and the porch never does stay dirt free. I now see why mom’s kitchen floors never could stay clean. Its not Herrington Road but I’ll take it

[inkstaineddaughter]

Darkness Expectant Chapter 26: A First Journey Complete

Kylo/Reader

Some fluff, some angst and A LOT of smut!

5,716k words

You can’t remember the last time you’ve been so bone-achingly tired. You take a deep breath, blink rapidly and try again to focus again on the console in front of you, even if the text and the diagrams are starting to blur and blend together.

Your feet hurt and your back hurts and it feels like it’s been days since you’d last eaten. You understand how important the launch of this new fleet of TIE fighters is and how crucial it is that every detail be perfect. You’ve even smiled at the thought of how much your dad would have loved discussing weapons technology with your husband. But more than anything, you just want everyone around you to shut up and go away.

Kylo nudges you with his elbow again and gives you another meaningful look. He’d already told you that you could leave and go home whenever you needed to. Go to bed and he’d be back soon. But you’d (stupidly) refused, determined to stay the course. You’re grateful that he’s allowed you to lean against him and has wrapped his cape protectively around you as you shift your weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

Had you actually fallen asleep standing? It feels like no time at all has passed when Kylo’s voice, his sharp, “Supreme Leader Voice” brings you back from wherever you’d been. “This will reconvene tomorrow. We’re nearing completion anyway.” You watch as the officers and designers shuffle out of the room, mumbling and shutting off datapads and consoles.      

“I’m not sure what kind of reward you expect for that,” he says as he props you back up on your feet. “You didn’t have to stay.” You yawn widely and shake your head at him.  “This is im… important! To you and to the entire Order. I should be here for it, be involved.” Kylo sighs deeply and mutters “Be involved in bed.” Naturally, you hear him. And smile as he hooks his arm around your shoulders and leads you out of the command room. But the sound of your name, at once urgent and relieved, brings you all the way to your senses.  “Supreme Leader, may I steal my daughter from you for a bit?” Your mother sinks into an obviously sarcastic curtsy before hurrying across the command room. “I promise I’ll give her back in one piece. I’ll even feed her dinner.” She looks back at you, pleading, but with a strange undercurrent of something almost like excitement. “(Y/N), I really, really need to talk to you.”

“Of course,” Kylo answers smoothly as he quite literally hands you over to her. You scowl at him. These two certainly do love making decisions when it comes to you. Resigned to your fate, you allow Kylo to place a kiss on your forehead, and tell you that he loves you before linking your arm with your mother’s and heading back to her quarters. She’s rambling about how difficult it was to find you and she can’t believe you and Kylo were still working this late. And you wonder how easy it is to slip from the role of Loving Daughter to Devoted Darkside Wife, to “Fuck-Me-Kylo-I’m-Your-Whore”. Almost as if they’re not really separate roles at all. Just you.

Only two people in the Galaxy can truly anticipate your needs. And never fail in meeting them. And you almost melt with gratitude when your mother places a plate of Kodari-rice and groat chop in front of you after you’ve sat down. “I have to feed my kids, right?” she asks as she settles into the chair across from you. Her eyes flick down to your belly and you smile.

But it just means that you won’t be going to bed hungry. And you plan on going to bed within the next…. however long it will take you to finish eating/pretending to listen and walk back to your quarters and your bed.        

“I’m sorry to drag you here and I know you’re tired, but this is serious,” your mother tells you, leaning across the table. “Not bad, though. Just serious, so please don’t worry.” Of course, now you’re already worried. Every horrible scenario runs through your head as you set your plate down and steel yourself for the worst. She draws a deep breath and closes her eyes briefly. And your heart stutters and starts beating again when she says the words, “I’m thinking about getting another pittin.”

Relief washes over you as you sink back into the chair and glance at the clock on the wall. Even pregnant, exhausted and miserable, in the battle between sleep and pittins, pittins will always win. So much for getting to bed any time soon. “All right,” you rub your hands together as you sit up and your mother looks at you hopefully. “There is no such thing as too many pittins. And I’m sure I can get you special permission to have more than one in your quarters, if you need it.” You wink at her. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard the rumors, but apparently I have some influence with the Supreme Leader.” Now, male or female? And what are you thinking for names?”  

You have no idea how much time has passed when your mother deposits you back at the door to your quarters, kisses your cheek and thanks you for all your help. Kylo is probably in bed, if not already asleep. At least you’ve eaten dinner and are looking forward to curling up and falling asleep next to him.

But the lights are on inside and a familiar smell fills your quarters. Familiar, but still elusive. It smells like comfort. It smells like home. “Kylo?” you call as you walk in. The dining table is set with a full tea service and plates of crumblebun and Jogan fruit tarts. It’s then that you realize the smell is sapir tea. Your heart clenches at all the memories woven into and around the taste and smell of the drink.

He comes in from the food prep area, gestures for you to sit down at one of the seats and you notice that, for all the elegance and symmetry of the table, your husband, looks a little disheveled. From his messy hair and rumpled pajamas, down to his bare feet. Why hasn’t been in bed?  He sees the confused look on your face and gives you one of the smirks that you’ve come to know so well. The kind that make you want to smack him, make you want to kiss him.

“Which one of us is going to say ‘Happy anniversary’ first?” he asks. Anniversary? Of what? Alderaan? Jakku? Jedi Temple?! You wrack your brain, trying to give meaning to the day. Kylo takes a step closer to you and holds out his hand. “It was one year ago, the day we met.” The day you met? The first time?  “A year?” you whisper and do the math, quickly acknowledging the time spent in fear and fortitude with Snoke and whatever was lost as the Resistance struggled in their attempt to rescue you. It seems more like a lifetime, several lifetimes. The blink of an eye. “It has!” you breathe.

Kylo shrugs almost imperceptibly, his face melting into a smile. “At least one of us has been keeping track. Come and sit.” He takes another step closer, but you can only stand frozen as images and memories flood your mind, taking you back to the very beginning. When you stood in your quarters, shouting at your mother that they can’t just “give” you to Commander Ren. When you sat across from him at a conference room table, he offered you his hand and you offered him your loyalty. Did any part of you know then, how much either of you would give to each other? Or gain in return?

It may have only been a year together, but Kylo immediately recognizes the look on your face. He sees how your eyes fill and your lip wobbles before he sweeps across the room and sweeps you into his arms. He’s warm and steady wrapped around you. “Still mine,” he whispers into your hair. “Now come sit down.”

You finally sit and have barely looked over the table, taking in the tea service and the delicious looking meal, when a realization hits you. “My mother!” you hiss and watch Kylo lean back in his chair, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “She was in on it the whole time! Keeping me distracted so you could have a chance to… oooooh! I bet she doesn’t even want a new pittin!” You’re not really angry, not at them anyway. Though the thought of Kylo and your mother working together like old friends, to plan a surprise for you is mildly irritating. Working together because you had forgotten what will probably be the most important day of your life.

Kylo shrugs and picks up his teacup. “I can’t speak one way or another about the pittin,” he says. “But I did enlist her help with keeping you busy while I set things up.” He holds out his cup. “Anniversary toast?” he asks and you scramble to lift yours as well. “My wife,” he says simply. The other half of my soul and every voice I’ve ever heard inside my head. It all lead to you.” You’re not even sure how to follow that and your hand shakes as you hold out your own cup.

“I didn’t want to hand my entire life over to you. Didn’t want    

The sapir tea is just as lovey as it’s always been, smelling like home and warming your heart as well as your fingers that are wrapped around the cup. Though you want to save some of the crumblebun for breakfast, you can’t seem to stop eating it. Kylo sees you hesitate as you reach for another piece. “I’ll have more sent over,” he assures you. “It’ll be here by the morning.” He looks at you like the most beautiful thing in the Galaxy, like you’re not even real. Sometimes, he makes you feel like you aren’t real. Nobody real could ever do anything to deserve him. “A year!” you marvel through a mouthful of pastry. “It’s funny how it seems like a lifetime or like no time at all.”

Kylo reaches across the table and places his hand on yours. “I can do this now if I want,” he says. No more confusion or tangled emotions. He can reach across anything now and take any part of you he likes. Your fingers slip perfectly between his as you twine them together, bring him closer. “You remember the day we first met, don’t you?” he asks.

You blink in surprise. “Of course, I do! I was completely overwhelmed by everything, but I remember you. It was like you took up the entire space of the room. And I had no idea where I was supposed to fit.”  

“You were so scared.”

“I was so scared,” you agree.    

“It was frustrating!” Kylo continues. “I could feel it and I hated it. I just wanted to comfort you.” He clenches his fingers around nothing, as he remembers. “You were wearing blue that day and your hair was tied back.” Kylo shakes his head. “You were confusing even then.”

“I was scared and I was angry,” you remember. “So furious that I was essentially being handed over to another person, like I was some kind of property.” You had fought your mother hard on this. No way were you willing to give up your whole life and submit to a complete (and still terrifying) stranger, just because you had become some kind of Force tracking device.

“I mean, I knew who you were, of course,” you continue. “I’d been seeing you at ceremonies and functions and whatnot for a while. But it was ‘Commander Ren’. He was tall and wore all black and a mask and was supposedly immensely powerful.” That’s it, really. Your mother would drag you along to any First Order pomp and circumstance. So, you could fold your arms and scowl at everybody, sick of hearing what a beautiful young lady were becoming or how your dad would be so proud of you.

Kylo looks surprised by the fact that your paths had previously crossed, that you hadn’t both just burst into existence the day you met. “I wish I’d seen you,” he frowns. “Recognized you.” But you shake your head at him, convinced that he would have had very little patience with you back then. He was in the early stages of training with Snoke and you were a teenage timebomb. You scoff, and giggle darkly. “I doubt you would have wanted very much to do with 16-year-old me. I was a pretty unpleasant.”

You watch the familiar shadow fall over his eyes, darkening them with something other than regret. “I might have,” he says. “You were close to legal age. Old enough to marry.” Your breath catches, tightening your chest and sending a surge of warmth that travels through your body and settles heavily in your cunt. “I could’ve taken you anywhere,” Kylo continues. “Done anything I wanted to you.”

“I would have let you,” you reply and realize that you’re not the least bit teasing. You’re certain that, even then, the tiniest flash of light between you would have become the consuming fire that devours you both now.

And you each notice how the atmosphere changes. The romance and sentimentality have vanished as you meet each other’s eyes across the table. You can almost hear that lightning crackling and buzzing in the corners in the room.

You shrug and continue. “I miss you like that sometimes. Not that you aren’t terrifying now.” Because he is. Still towering over everything in his path and leaving devastation in his wake. Now unmasked, his victims and followers are able to see everything, from the slightest flick of an eyebrow to every feature contorted with rage.

“But the mask and the hood, the voice modulator.”  You look down and realize that you’d been subconsciously rubbing your hands over your thighs and see how your legs have spread under your own touch. You place your hands back up on the table. “It was absolutely frightening, but exciting.”

Kylo continues staring at you, his mouth slightly open and eyes wide. As you stare back, you see his tongue dart out to moisten his lower lip and you wonder what the chances are of him just snapping and fucking you hard and fast on the table, teacups shattering on the floor and jogan fruit smearing onto your thighs.

“I saw you at functions and ceremonies, but there’s so much I feel like I missed. That I would have loved to have seen.” You become aware of how your voice is now shaking and how difficult it is to  catch your breath. “The power and the destruction,” you continue. Kylo has seized your hand again and is now squeezing, his thumb rubbing hard against your knuckles, the same way he would rub against your clit if you were naked beneath him.

The table suddenly seems too wide, too much distance between you as you hear the teacups rattle against their saucers. “I especially wish I’d been there when you killed Han Solo,” you confess. “Not that I haven’t seen it countless times in your mind, but in person, it would have been so much more. I wish I could have felt all of it with you.”

“I wish you’d been there too,” Kylo groans. You can see the color rising in his cheeks and the sweat that beads across his forehead.

“I’m not a total deviant,” you attempt to explain before he cuts you off. “Yes, you are.” And you smile, because when it comes to him, you really are. Nothing is sacred. Nothing too brutal to share with him, to revel in together.

“All right,” you admit and shrug. “Maybe I really like the idea of sucking your cock right after you’ve murdered your father, I don’t know. Maybe.” Kylo briefly closes his eyes and huffs out a breath. “I would have thrown him off that bridge myself, so I could reach you faster.”

The lightning in the corners is now crackling inside your head, the Force pressing against your chest, making it even harder to breath. You feel the walls of your pussy throbbing, contracting to the rhythm of your heartbeat. The room already smells like sex. “You’ll see so much more,” he promises. “So much worse.”

But the lightning mutes, the pressure on your chest increases and you feel your ears pop as you instinctively place your other hand over your mouth and yawn widely. And the mood disappears. Kylo releases your hand and graces you with one of his rare, toothy smiles. “I’m amazed you’ve lasted this long,” he tells you as he walks around the table and helps you to your feet. He wraps his arms around you and holds you as tightly against him as he can, as much as the baby belly will allow. “You always seem to do that though, don’t you?”

“Hmmmf?” you mumble, your nose pressed into his chest. Kylo releases you and steps back. “Start yawning in the middle of an important conversation. Am I really that boring?” he asks. You remember the first time he’d kissed you and stumbled through a confession of love. You’d sat next to him, your hand in his, somehow both hanging on his every word and disbelieving of the entire situation. Until you’d suddenly, and quite rudely yawned right in his face.      

Before you can answer, he reminds you for the fourth time to go to bed and you finally acquiesce. It’s hard to leave though. The vision of your dark warrior and Jedi killer clearing off the table, with tangled hair and no shoes is not one you want to tear your eyes, or heart away from.

In the bed chamber, you peel your clothes off and pull a simple sleeping shift over your head. If Quica decides to sink her claws into your back as you sleep, you’ll be protected. And if Kylo decides to sink anything else into you at any point during the night, you’ll be accessible.

With all the events of the evening, anniversaries and pittins and jogan fruit, you feel your earlier excitement waning as drowsiness starts to cloud your head. Quica settles on the bed next to you, her furry body pressed against you and her purr vibrating in your own chest. At least Kylo will be able to curl up next to you, you think. A year. Even if the small kicks and summersaults from inside your own body remind you of the passage of time, it still seems unreal.

“Off the bed.” The voice that pulls you from your doze is threatening, but familiar. Quica is gone and you blink up at the figure standing over you. It is a figure of nightmares, of comfort and confusion. Of lust. Silver lines and leather-clad hands. Instinct takes over and you hasten to roll out of the bed. To obey.

“Don’t move,” Kylo warns you. And though you can’t see his eyes behind the mask, you can feel them on you, tracing every curve, noting every bit of exposed and flushed skin. All the elements that you remember are there, the hood pulled up over the mask, the draping cowl across his chest and the frayed and uneven cape. Your heart drops and your pussy clenches. Gods, you’ve fucking missed this!

The leather is cold against your skin as he drags his hands up your arms, raising them above your head. “You should never have to undress yourself,” he says as he pulls off your shift in one swift motion and lets it fall to the floor. “Not when I’m around to do it.”

Kylo holds your chin in place and swipes his thumb over your lip. “Scared?” he asks. The modulator making his voice distorted and nearly unrecognizable. You know he’s going to push your limits tonight. But it is your anniversary after all, and it doesn’t seem fair that you should get to have all the fun. You swipe your tongue across the pad of his thumb and swirl it around the tip just like you love to do with his cock. “Not yet,” you answer.

He pulls his hand away from you and you watch as he climbs onto the bed, only slightly awkwardly as he tries to avoid getting tangled in the cape. And he settles on his back. And not even on the side he regularly sleeps on, but in the middle of the mattress. And you’re utterly puzzled as he lays his head down just below the pillows. This is obviously some sort of anniversary surprise he’d planned. But, unlike the tea and dessert, you doubt very much your mother has had anything to do with it.

Kylo doesn’t turn his head to look at you and instead keeps his faceless gaze trained on the ceiling above the bed. “Are you going to join me or not?” The words are clipped and he sounds impatient. You wonder if he expects you to enter into his mind and anticipate his requests before he asks. Easier said than done. But you see his finger tapping against his thigh, watch the bedchamber light reflect off the shiny leather of his glove. You decide that, in this case, going along with him will be more fun than being a cheeky brat. And you pull yourself onto the bed next to him.  

You climb atop him, straddling his hips in the old familiar position, moving your hands up his chest. “No,” he scolds, seizing your wrists and pinning them together. With his free hand, he lightly smacks your ass and you stifle a small moan at the feel of the leather against your skin. And you sit there, throbbing and leaking against him, but confused about what exactly he’s asking. “Up, up, up.” He releases your wrists and you crawl off. “Mask,” he says, pulling the hood down from where the fabric had snagged on it. And you sit there, feeling naked and stupid. Although it might be to your advantage. “Ummm, yes?” you reply.

Kylo reaches and grabs your wrist again, pulling you closer. Even through the voice modulator, you can hear how his teeth are clenched. “Ride it!” And your heart doesn’t just drop in your chest at his words, it disappears altogether, leaving a dull, aching emptiness inside you. Your cunt clenches around nothing and you feel the heat travel up your body and the surge of moisture between your legs. “Come on,” he urges almost gently as he pulls you up toward his head.

You shuffle up the length of the bed, your calf brushing against his arm, each individual pleat in the sleeve leaving a trail of goosebumps down your leg. You’re mesmerized by the sight of your breasts, your nipples hard and bright pink. And though your belly obscures most of your legs, you watch as you lift your knee, swinging it over to settle and sink down into the bed just above his shoulder. And just as your belly hides the lower half of your body from view, it also hides Kylo’s mask from view. Though it does nothing to muffle the sound of his voice “same damn quote”. And you wonder what the view must look like to him. How many times has he looked through that visor and seen people’s last moments and watched the life in their eyes drain into nothingness? The burning, blinding glow of his lightsaber or his vision covered with spatters of blood. The only view now is of your open, throbbing pussy as you sink down onto his face. No victims or battles or dead fathers. Just swollen flesh as so much red.    

As your husband, you adore him beyond all reason and as his apprentice, you were unflinchingly loyal to him from the very beginning. Not once did you hesitate in choosing him over your mother, even over Snoke. But now kneeling, hot and dripping over his face, over the dreaded but achingly familiar shapes of the mask, fogging up the surfaces, a shiver runs through you at how forbidden and profane the whole act feels. How utterly disrespectful and you’re reminded of when he fucked your mouth as you sat on the Supreme Leader’s throne. It makes you sick but so, so wet how he takes every symbol of ritual and reverence and defiles them one by one with you. Until the only sacred things left are each other.

The obsidian and durasteel of the mask are still cold against the throbbing heat of your cunt. The silver ridges of the visor drag against your clit and you moan softly. “Make your sounds,” Kylo urges you and the deep vibration from his voice reaches all the way up into your chest. You roll your hips and the edges of the faceplate slide along the creases in your thighs. As you move faster, the unbidden image of Darth Vader appears in your head. Whether it came from some place within you or was put there by Kylo himself, you’re not certain. But it’s almost a mirror image of you now, sweaty and shaking, sitting atop the mask, sliding your wet pussy over the grooves and ridges. Leather-clad hands on your thighs, gripping and bruising the flesh. The same mask that sits in a box only a few feet away in the bedchamber. You shudder as your eyes dart over to the shelf where the burned and twisted remains of Vader’s face lie. Beneath you, his grandson squeezes your ass, wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down harder, moving you faster as you grind your clenching cunt against him.

And he stops. Kylo lifts you, not too gently, off of him and stands. You squeak his name in surprise as he reaches for you and drags you to edge of bed. He continues staring down at you and you watch in amazement as he unfastens his trousers and pulls his cock out through the layers of fabric with one hand while still keeping the other on your leg. He shoves your knees apart and holds you steady as he pushes unto you. And he keeps going, even when it feels like there’s no more of him or more of you left. Then he bottoms out and you feel the rough fabric of his tunic as it scratches against your thighs. And the pressure on your cervix almost steals your breath away.    

He only lets a few moments pass before he begins thrusting into you soundlessly, keeping your legs spread as his fingers dig into your knees. Above you, he seems unfeeling and almost inhuman. Even though the light reflects off the wet streaks you left on his mask, he doesn’t betray a hint of his own pleasure or any care for yours, other than allowing you to keep your hands placed over his. He feels as anonymous and vague as the Commander Ren you would sometimes see at functions when you were younger, tall and clothed in black. And it’s easy to imagine him taking you anywhere and you allowing him to do anything to you.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” His voice is hoarse and betrays the emotion that really is there, the mounting lust and desperate need. “Not just your precious Kylo Ren?” he pants with each stroke. “You want the Supreme Leader, don’t you? Want to feel his power and his cock deep inside you.” The “Yes!” that falls from your lips is indecent. “You want him to come in you?” Kylo asks, increasing his pace, somehow thrusting harder even though you’re clenching almost painfully tight around him. “Come hard and just fill your tight little pussy all the way up.” And you want everything from him. Too much and yet nothing at all. Every orifice on every surface in every star system. You want to burn down all the parts of your life from before he was there. Watch the entire galaxy burn as you kneel before him and take him into your mouth. As he bends you over another smoldering ruin and opens you up.

But in this moment, this is all you need. His cock in your cunt, hitting every spot that makes your toes curl and your back arch up into him. Making vulgar, squelchy sounds as he fucks you through your slick. His hands that grip your knees, pulling you onto him as his thrusts become harder and deeper. You nod frantically, your throat almost closing as you choke out a “I want it!” Followed by an almost inaudible and much deeper, “Oh, fuck.”

“You’ve done so well,” he continues. “You’re always so good to me. Such a sweet…” He pauses, shakes his hands out from under yours as he reaches up, reaches to release the mask’s faceplate, to tear it off and let it fall at his feet. A sob catches in your chest at the sight of him. His face is flushed and sweaty, his lips are swollen and his hair matted against his temples. You missed him!

“Kyloooo!” you whine as you blink back tears and reach for him. He gathers you into his arms and kisses you. Holds you as close against him as your unborn son will allow. “I love you, (Y/N)!” he breathes against your skin. “I love you, Gods, I love you so much!”

Words have momentarily failed you, but you hope he can feel by the way you keep your hands clutched into the rough fabric of his cape, how you continue to move your own hips in time to meet his, how your pussy tightens around him. Everything. Too much and still not enough.

He slips his hand down between you and you feel his thumb on your clit, swirling tight circles around the painfully swollen nub. “Oh, thank the stars!” you gasp as you finally find your voice. “Please, yes!” He’s going to bring you there. Drag you along with him and then hurl you into the chasm. Before he jumps in after you.

Kylo increases the speed of his thumb, rubbing frantically over your clit. “Don’t you ever fucking touch yourself, you hear me?” he babbles. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll always take care of you!” You feel your juices run from between your legs, feel them pool on the bed below you. And both of you are so, so close and so hot and so wet. “Please,” he begs. “You’ve got to come on my cock, baby! All over me.” His voice is now plaintive. “Please. I need to feel you!” You nod and tighten your grip on him, pulling him closer, trapping him against and inside you. You’ll spend the rest of your life coming on him. Every anniversary, every year.

“Fuck!!” you nearly shout as he drags the head of his dick against that one perfect spot inside you, the spot that always makes you clench around him, makes you drool over his cock, makes you sob. “Kylo! Just…mmmm, just harder!”

He smooths a gloved hand over your head, pushing back your sweaty strands of hair. “All right,” he murmurs in a low voice. “Whatever you need.” He grips your waist and slams into you so hard, it almost makes you gag. You can feel him all the way up into your throat.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” you chant in time to his brutal pace. He yanks you down hard onto him and freezes, as his thumb presses into your clit. You can feel his cock swell inside you and your pussy clamps tight around him as he explodes into you, coating your walls with him. “Oh, I’m coming!” you gasp, somehow sounding more surprised than consumed by pleasure. But consumed, you are. So consumed that you can only squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto your Supreme Leader, your Commander Ren as you ride out the peaks and valleys of your shattering orgasm. The fabric of his tunic scratches your face as you press into him, hearing his labored breathing above you and feeling the drops of sweat that drip into your hair.  

“Kylo!” you choke. “Oh, sweetheart!” He shoves your chin up, growls, “My fucking wife!” and crashes his lips against yours. Your cunt continues its contractions milking and sucking every last drop of cum from his cock. As you suck his tongue in rhythm, moving your lips against his, tasting him and taking all of him into you. His lips slide against your cheek as his softening cock slips out of you and he collapses on the bed, panting. You’re almost sobbing and your hands are on his face, in his hair, on his chest, whatever you can touch. He throws the blanket over the two of you and wraps his arms around you as tight as they will go.

“Don’t even say it,” Kylo warns as your breathing begins to return to normal. “Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head.” You mumble some nonsense into his shoulder, something that you hope sounds innocent and unconcerned, but he knows how he still terrifies you. Knows that even the happiest of celebrations, the sickening relief of reunion or the creation of new life together can erase that fear entirely.

He pulls his fingers through your hair, lifting the damp strands from off your neck. He hasn’t bothered to take his gloves off or even pull his pants back up for that matter. You love him. And you raise your eyes to meet his. “You can go back to sleep now,” he says. “And I’ll still be here when you wake up.” He places a hand low on your belly, nearly on your pubic bone and you feel the fluttery kicks from inside as a son recognizes his father. “I will be here,” Kylo continues. “And so will he. Every year and every other anniversary from now on.”        

[hangjie]

far from home. [ peter parker ]

anonymous: can you do peter parker, where they’re at europe and they go out on a cute little date then he leaves her but she finds out he’s spiderman?

summary: reader and peter are on vacation and decide to go on a little date, which ended up in tears, anger, heartbreak, and spiderman?

warnings: a teeny tiny bit of swearing

word count: 1,487

author’s note: IM SO SORRY THAT THIS TOOK SO LONG, ANON HDJSHDHS also, i kinda changed it a bit but not that much huhu this literally sucks i cannot HAHAHAHAAHAHHA i haven’t been on a date before sis lmao ;(

─── • ° *｡✧ ───

i sigh in satisfaction, a smile linering on my lips as i look around the buzzing carnival. the colorful lights, the laughter and calming yet loud noise of the people around us, the exhilarating feeling you get when you see the rides filled with people, the smell of hotdogs, cotton candy, and popcorn making my mouth water.

“isn’t this wonderful, pete?” peter nods and smiles, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “sure is, (y/n).”

although we were at europe and we can literally go to fancy restaurants and places, we decided to just go to the carnival because it’s simple and enjoyable. plus, what do you expect out of two broke high school students?

we continue walking around the carnival, going on rides, playing some games (totally recking peter in some of them), and eating the mouth watering food.

i take a bite of the pink fluffy cotton candy peter bought for me and my taste buds are immediately filled with the sweet taste, the cotton candy melting in my mouth.

i look over at peter, who was going to take a bite of his hotdog until i bite the end of his food. he retracts and frowns at me as i chuckle, mouth full of food.

“hey, no fair! you have your own food!” he complains, pouting.

“what? i’m hungry, pete!” peter sighs and shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips.

“then let’s get some food in you then—“

i gasp out loud, pointing ahead of me. “peter, let’s go on the ferris wheel!”

right before peter could answer me, his watch beeps, turning his attention to his watch and looking up with a worried and reluctant expression. his face goes pale and sweat begins to roll down from his temple to the side of his face.

“pete? what’s wrong, babe?” i ask, playing with the front of his hair in comfort. he takes my hands and kisses my knuckles before quietly saying, “everything’s fine. don’t worry about me.” i raise an eyebrow at him, but he ignores it and chuckles, kissing the top of my head.

“hey, why don’t you save us a spot in the line of the ferris wheel? i need to go to the bathroom really quick.” i nod my head and give him a small peck before i approach the line of the ferris wheel and peter, to the toilets.

surprisingly, the line wasn’t really long and i only had to wait for about several minutes before i was two people away from the front. peter still hasn’t come back from the toilet and i was starting to get worried.

come down, (y/n). maybe he just couldn’t find you and will join you when it’s your turn.

“next!” the two people in front of me go inside one booth, making me the first in line. the man securing the front motions and grumbles for me to get in the vacant booth.

“i’m sorry, but i’m waiting for someone.”

“then too bad on them, kid. there’s other people waiting for their turn!” i sigh and hesitantly enter the booth alone.

i tuck my chin on top of my palm as the booth goes higher and higher until it reaches the very top. there was nothing but silence and my mind asking, ‘where is peter?’

——-

i pull my jacket close to me as i walk through the empty and quiet streets and the cold dark night. i rub my hands together to try to get some heat, but alas none. i, instead, cross my arms across my chest and tuck my hands in my jacket.

peter ditched me.

i cannot believe that my boyfriend of a year and a half ditched me in the middle of our date . . . in europe!

he better have a good excuse for this.

as i continue walking, i begin to hear faint footsteps behind me. i turn around and see a hooded figure walking behind me. i didn’t think much of it, but red flags start to raise in my mind and i make sure to be alert in case this man tries to do anything.

i turn my attention back towards my front and my blood runs cold when there are two more hooded figures. they were walking towards my direction and when i tried to move away from the path, they followed my steps.

i look around to see if there were other people or if there were any cars around, but none. i start to panic, praying to God that they don’t murder me and sell my organs online.

i’m so dead.

i continue to walk as if nothing’s happening and that everything is okay. i take a deep breath before i dash to the alleyway on my right, leaving the hooded men on the sidewalk.

i run as fast as my body could take me, feeling my lungs burn inside my chest. i hear heavy footsteps running after me and i try to run farther away from them, but at the end of the alley, i am met with a dead end.

i curse to myself and try to find another way, any way, but none. i turn around and see the men slowing to a jog. they slowly approach me, deep chuckles escaping their throats at the sight of helpless and defenseless me.

“you taught you could run away from us, little girl?” one says, looking down at me with an evil smirk. “please don’t hurt me! i’ll give you anything you want!” i plead, tears threatening to fall. “money? my phone? my jewelry? anything!”

the men chuckle and say, “that won’t be necessary,” before taking a step towards me, ready to attack.

this is it. this is the end.

right before one of the men can lay their finger on me, a loud thup! echoes throughout the alleyway and right before the men could turn around to see what it was, something sticks on the hand of the man and it looks like . . . spider web?

the man is suddenly pulled backward and on to the wall, alerting his two companions. as they were distracted, i manage to slip pass them and hide behind some empty trash cans.

i do not dare look up from my spot, in fear that i might be seen by the men, but i could hear the sounds of groans, punching, kicking, and bodies being thrown.

after some time, the air goes quiet, making my breath hitch in my throat. i debate whether or not to look up from my hiding spot until i hear a soft voice say, “miss, are you okay?”

i look up and i see . . . spiderman?

i suddenly feel light headed and dizzy, my vision starts to blur and spin until i feel myself drop to the ground and i hear a “holy shit!” from the masked hero.

——-

when i finally regained consciousness, i quietly groan at the aching feeling of my head as i sit up, rubbing my eyes. i look around and notice that i was back in my hotel room and that i wasn’t the only one in the room.

the hunched figure wearing black, red, and black sits on a chair at the end of my bed with his back facing me. i notice that he has his mask off since i can see the lightly tanned skin and fluffy brown hair of the hero.

“oh god, what do i tell her?” he asks himself. “first, i ditched her at our date and now, i saved her from a bunch of guys at an alleyway.” he groans. “what do i tell her in the morning?”

wait a minute.

‘ditched her at our date’?

“peter?” i ask in disbelief, making him turn around and indeed it is my boyfriend wearing spiderman’s suit. peter looks at me with wide eyes and he opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

“you’re spiderman?”

“(y/n), i-i can explain.”

i hold my hand up and peter stops talking, looking down at the ground in disappointment.

“is spiderman the reason why you had to ditch me on our date earlier?” peter slowly nods his head, not meeting my eyes like a child being scolded by their mother.

i sigh and quietly say, “come here,” making peter look up. when he notices my open arms, he immediately rushes to me and hugs me tightly.

“i’m so sorry, (y/n). i should’ve told you earlier,” he says against my neck. he continues to apologize and i shush him.

“shush, let’s just cuddle, okay?”

a small smile appears on peter’s face and he climbs into bed. he begins to tell me all about his crime fighting adventures and his life as a vigilante.

my eyes begin to droop and right before i fell asleep, i feel a soft kiss on my forehead and a quiet ‘i love you’ from peter.

MASTERLIST

[hareblazer]

and they cried holy holy holy

its very hard existing in a world that doesnt love you 

fic focused on the affects of the religious south via larrys childhood + internalized homophobia now. tw for religious trauma, homophobia, the q slur, implied child abuse, self harm, implied suicide. separated into 6 parts.

all of these things are pretty normal for the time/context/situation i promise i didnt go ape shit on him ctvgbhn 

im gay. some things were minorly edited because of my own experiences. all conversations are inspired heavily by convos ive had.

ONE

“Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is abomination.” The pastor had told him. “Queers go to hell. It is the will of God.” Larry’s mother elbowed him, a way of saying this included him. “Join me in prayer so the sinners may reach Salvation and Repentance.” He raised his arms, framing the holy cross behind him. “Peace be with you.”

“And also with you.” All stood. Except Larry.

“God is Good.” He said.

“All the time.” All prayed. Except Larry. His father glared at him. He could feel the eyes of everyone around him- even if they weren’t looking- he knew what they thought of him. He wished he was good and pure. He wanted nothing more than to be loved by God like everyone else was. But he was just a sinner. A blemish on the tapestry of God’s vision.

None of that was true, of course, but as an 11 year old in the deep south in 1935- he had no choice but to believe.

“Larry.” His father whispered angrily. “Stand. Up. Now.”

“I don’t wanna.” Larry whispered back. He didn’t. He was tired. Ever since his parents found out about his preference for boys they had woken him up early almost every morning to pray- to be reminded of his damnation- to go to church and be told over and over again he was unnatural. He was so tired.

“Larry. If you don’t stand right now- You’ll be choosing a switch when we get home.”

“I’m tired-” He kicked his feet.

“Lawrence Michael Trainor.” His mother hissed. “You’re embarrassing us.” Larry could hear a waver in her voice.

“-in God’s name, amen.” The pastor finished.

“Amen.”

“You are dismissed.”

“Bless you, father.” someone behind Larry said. He couldn’t see very well through his own tears. He couldn’t help but feel like it was all his fault. Now was, in Larry’s opinion, one of the worst parts of church. His parents beelined to Benjamin Quincy’s- probably to tell them to keep their son away from him. Again. Larry could already hear them berating Ben’s poor father- accusing them of turning their sweet son to the Devil and a path of damnation.

This was almost 90 years ago, but Larry could remember it like it was yesterday. He’d never admit it- but sometimes he still felt like that scared boy praying for a salvation that’ll never come.

Chief had bought him a bible, when he first moved into the manor, thinking it would remind him of home. He didn’t know, of course, the kind of history Larry had with religion- but it was enough to release the spirit on a rampage. Chief thought that was interesting. Larry thought it was a headache- literally and metaphorically. He actually wasn’t sure where it was now, actually. It had disappeared mysteriously years ago- after he had given Rita a vague idea of how his childhood was. He never looked for it.

It wasn’t until the patrol had to go into a church that Larry really thought about this again. Ordinarily he pretends it never happened- that he never had a childhood at all. It was easier than having to face it. He forgot why, exactly, they were there- but-

“Larry?” Cliff turned back, already halfway through the doors. Larry had stopped about ten feet off- Jane near him. “You coming?”

“Ah.” was all he could say in reply. This looked like his old one. His lungs felt like they were full of water. Jane tilted her head at him. She had a reason to hate this place- not to say he probably didn’t have one too- but she had definitely never heard about this before. “I.”

“We have two people against this stuff, now?” Cliff. He meant well, but he was about as sensitive as a brick. “What happened to you?”

Larry said nothing. Jane stepped up. “He doesn’t have to tell you. Just- go without us.” Cliff did the closest thing to a shrug he could do and left. Larry wanted to thank Jane- in his own quiet way- but he was a little overwhelmed for that. God. He could still hear the pastors words stinging his heart. He felt Jane’s eyes on him.

Repent, old sinner. Repent and be redeemed.

“Fuck.” Larry turned and walked away. “Fuck!”

“I guess the church screwed both of us over.” Jane crossed her arms. Larry only sighed.

“It screws everyone over. Whether they realize it or not.”

“Hm.” Jane agreed. “It’s a fucked up institution.” Larry’s chest glowed gently.

“God. I want to go back to the manor.” He placed a hand on his chest, trying to soothe the spirit. “Take a nap.”

“Me too.” Jane leaned against a wall.

They stood in silence, before Larry spoke again.

“The church by my house looked like this. Growing up.” He glanced back at it for a moment. “God. I hated that place.”

Jane watched him for a moment. They were the two most closed off people in the manor- this was literally the most he had ever said about himself to her.

“Boring?”

“I guess.” Larry did not say it was because they hated him. He did not say that the priest told him he deserved damnation. He did not say that he still had nightmares about it. “I was. Not well liked, I guess.”

“Oh.” Jane did not share her own trauma related to it. She couldn’t. She didn’t want to. “Are you still…?”

“God, no. I’m not a fan of- any of it, really. I don’t know.” He tries to tell her without really saying anything at all. “They. Really. Don’t like the kind of person I am. Is all.”

“Me neither.” She nodded. This conversation was so. Fucking. Awkward. But it was still the most they had talked in a long time. “Bad church experiences club.”

Larry chuckled. “Bad church experiences club.” 

TWO 

Larry was in class. Thirteen years old and already fully aware of his fate. Homosexuality is an abomination, he knew. God does not make mistakes, he knew. So why is he cursed with these feelings?

“God created all creatures in the Beginning-” his teacher was explaining in the background. Larry had heard this story a million times- both in and out of church. He was daydreaming about the boy who sat in front of him- he had the bluest eyes, and- no. No. Larry couldn’t think like that. That was a sin. He mentally scolded himself for letting his guard down. He had to have a wife. A family- or suffer for all eternity.

“God is love,” said his teacher.

It doesn’t feel much like love to Larry.

-

He regretted doing this. Larry found himself standing in front of the team- during Cliff’s sudden group therapy session and subsequent freakout.

“Well.” He started, but paused. God. God. God. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think it would be a good idea to come out? To let the only people he ever felt like he could trust learn his ugly, terrible truth and scorn him just as his own family did?

“I’m-”

“GAY!” Cliff interrupted suddenly. Larry froze. Oh god. Oh god. They knew. They KNEW. How did they know? No. Fuck. He was reading too far into this. Unless he wasn’t. The others protested Cliff’s outburst.

“Okay! I just thought Larry was about to come out- and it would’ve been so healing for him!”

Larry is thankful for the bandages covering his tears.

"I think all I wanted to say was...it gets lonely, not touching anyone for 60 years. the last person I ever touched was John Bowers. I- I loved him. and I drove him away." Larry hoped that was vague enough. God. He could see it now- remembering how his parents reacted when they figured it out for themselves- how the church had reacted- how the other boys had reacted- how he had joined the army in an effort to make himself more masculine, more straight- he couldn’t help but think about all the possible ways he could kill himself right here right now.

“I knew it.” Cliff stood. Larry panicked. “I just want you to know that you’re loved- and accepted-” He hugged Larry, and Larry didn’t know what to do.

He’d never been offered acceptance before. How do you react to that?

“I’m not done.” He snapped. It was the best he knew how to do.

“I’m only sharing this because it’s the thing Mr. Nobody shoved in my face.” A clarification he knew this was immoral. He knew he was wrong. “What’s left, of my face.”

Pause.

“That was a joke. God- these bandages are the death of all nuance.” He failed to lighten the mood. He could feel everyone’s judgement, burning his skin like the fire did so many years ago. “Look. If Mr. Nobody’s goal is to torture me, well- I’ve been doing his work for him. Whipping myself in a- a prison of my own making.” Fuck. That sounded kind of cliche.”And wh- what if I trusted John, what if I’d been more brave- and guess what? I’m sick of it! I’m not just hurting myself- I’m hurting this thing inside of me and it’s hurting me back, endlessly, until there’s so much self-loathing I can barely breathe.” He’s trying so, so hard not to break down. He returns to his spot on the couch and slumps, already tuned out and waiting for his inevitable punishment.

He’s only greeted with Rita’s hand on his back, a small comfort, but a welcome one nonetheless. 

THREE 

The last time Larry was in love was with John. It was, admittedly, most of what he thought about, these days- but it was the only time he could ever exist in peace around another person. Even if John was a little too open for Larry’s comfort, he was comfortable in his own skin during the rare times they could sneak a moment together.

He missed John so, so much. Not only because he loved him- though that was a big part- but because he missed feeling safe. He missed feeling loved. He missed feeling anything at all.

-

“So. You’re gay?” Cliff had asked, one morning.

“Yes.” Larry answered, a little too shortly.

“Aren’t you from- like- the 30s?”

“Yes.” Larry said again, knowing full well what question was going to come next.

“Did your parents-” Cliff paused, trying to find the words. “Take it well? How did you- do that? Back then?”

Larry didn’t answer, at first. He actually had no idea what Cliff was referring to. “What?”

“Y’know- you said you had a boyfriend? John? How did you hide it? Since homosexuality was, like- illegal.”

Larry considers losing it. “They. Did not take it well.” He started, failing to mention how most parents in the day had a habit of ‘beating the queer’ out of their children. “We hid it with difficulty. I mean- we risked getting murdered- or worse, if we were caught.”

“Damn.” Cliff said. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah.” Larry sighed. He hated this conversation so much. “I married a girl I knew right out of high school- that was normal, back then- but I guess I thought if I just forced myself into it I’d turn straight, or something?”

“Did it work?”

“No. I cheated on her for years with other men and ruined my family.”

“Oh.” Cliff feels so awkward. “I mean- I did that too. Cheated on my wife. But I didn’t have a good reason for it. Like you did.”

“Cliff, I didn’t have a good reason. I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Sure you did! I mean- cheating at all is a dick move, no matter what- but, like, you’re gay. And you got forced to marry a woman so you wouldn’t die.”

“Cliff-”

“And gay marriage is legal now! So- like- it got better! Gay rights!”

“It’s legal?”

“Yeah! In 2015- thought we celebrated it! But then you wouldn’t leave your room because you were sad about something again, and then Jane-”

“It’s legal now.” Larry said again, not listening to anything Cliff was saying. “Holy shit.”

“-Then Hammerhead threw me across a room and Chief had to wire my legs back on.”

“I hated myself so fucking much for- so long-” Larry’s face is unreadable to Cliff. “The number of times I considered killing myself because I thought there was no other option- and it’s been legal for almost five years. And I didn’t know about it.”

“How did you find out you were. You know?” Cliff asked, trying to avoid talking about Larry’s apparent suicidal tendencies.

“What?”

“How did you know you were gay?”

“Oh. I mean- when I was a kid it was pretty watered down- but I never liked the idea of having a wife or a girlfriend like everyone expected me to. In middle school, though? The boy’s locker room was definitely an eye-opener- and in my twenties I-” Larry was not going to finish that sentence. Cliff hadn’t unlocked that part of his backstory yet. “God. I tried to repress it for so long, though. It’s really weird, having other people know.” Larry’s chest glowed gently.

“It’s okay, now. There’s even gay hookup apps, and stuff. I bet Vic could help you set one up.”

Larry shrunk into his coat. He could barely handle seeing a man in shorts, the other day. He really didn’t think he was ready for this. “Cliff. I’m not. I can’t do this.”

“Why not? You’re free to be yourself!”

“Cliff. It’s been ingrained in me since I was a kid that being gay was some- awful, horrible thing. This- acceptance? It’s too new to me. I’m not ready to embrace it. I can’t.” I can’t go to hell, was what Larry was thinking. I can’t do that. “Ninety years of- of repression- and self hatred- and hiding- and all of that, I can’t just- bounce back, Cliff. I need time to think about this.”

“Do that! You can talk to me, if you need to, Larry!”

“Maybe I will.” 

FOUR 

Larry was 16 when he hurt himself for the first time. It wasn’t on purpose- he was trying to whittle a little plane in class when he sliced his thumb- but he never really stopped. He felt like he deserved it- maybe the sins he held would leave his body, dripping like blood down his arms. Or maybe he just wanted to feel something other than shame. Either way- it was the one thing he could feel totally in control of. Something that finally felt justified. Unlike his unwavering attraction toward the other boys in his classes- like the now-constant disdain of his parents- unlike the smile his first kiss gave him before they left each other behind. His parents never actually knew about this habit, but Larry convinced himself they did.He told himself this was what they really wanted- between the constant threats of going to hell, or the reminders he’s ruining their perfect family- maybe they did just want him to hurt. Suicide, back then, was almost unthinkable. Nowadays, Larry considers it often. -

Rita noticed something was- more off than usual. Larry had always been a melancholic person, but even Cliff had realized Larry not leaving his room for three days wasn’t normal. She eventually took it upon herself to drag him out of whatever slump he had gotten himself into, again- whether he liked it or not.

“Larry?” She called through his doors. Sound didn’t travel well through all that- but she was very good at being heard when she wanted to be. “Larry!”

Larry did not answer. He was bandaged, luckily, as he knew Rita would inevitably come storming in, but he didn’t want her to see the blood seeping through. He had relapsed, again, though he had nobody left to report it to with the Chief gone. That was for the best, he thought. “LARRY!” Rita knocked on the door. “I’m coming in there!”

Larry groaned. He wasn’t sure why he wasn’t stopping her. He could easily just say it would be too dangerous, or-

He could hear the decontamination chamber hiss. Fuck. He had to clean himself up fast.

“Can you- wait just a-” Too late. Rita entered, concerned. “Fuck.”

“Ah.’ Rita started, but paused, seeing Larry’s red bandages. “Larry. What were you doing in here?” Larry kicked the pocketknife he dropped under his dresser.

“Nothing.”

“Larry. You’re a terrible liar and I just watched you hide something. What did you do?”

Larry shifted his weight nervously. Everyone else he was positive wouldn’t care too much about this- though, of course, that wasn’t even remotely true- but Rita?

“I.” Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. How is he supposed to tell her he was just cutting up his own arms in an attempt to feel better about himself? To punish himself for being gay? How do you say that casually? “I was.”

“You were?” In truth, Rita already had an idea what he was doing. She just needed him to admit he needed help.

Larry avoided eye contact, though that was invisible to Rita through his goggles. “I was. Dealing with. Things.” He can feel the dams breaking. He really, really does not want to cry to Rita right now.

“Dealing with what?” Come on, Larry.

“Shit.” was all he could get out before he started sobbing. Rita sighed and put her hand on his back, like she always did when he has a hard time. This was not the first time she’s seen him at his lowest, and she knew it wouldn’t be her last. It used to be a mystery to her- she always knew he was hiding something important about himself, but what it was, exactly, she couldn’t guess. Now that he came out, though, she had a whole new perspective on it all.

This explained a lot, actually. She had thrown away the bible Chief had gifted him, because she knew he did not like the church, though she didn’t understand why until now. He had always avoided talking about relationships at all, and would shut down when asked about his past. Larry didn’t know that she knew about the times he would hobble gingerly toward Chief’s lab, blood dripping from his limbs and the burden of being a sinner on his mind. Larry was especially bitter toward the spirit, after those nights. Now Rita knew how he was so sure it won’t let him die.

“It’s okay, Larry.” was all she could think to say. “You’re safe, now.” He couldn’t answer past pulling her into a hug. Rita was pretty sure he was getting blood on her dress- but she didn’t mind. “I’d offer to patch you up, but I think you have enough bandages.”

Larry couldn’t help but laugh slightly at that. “God, Rita. I’m sorry. I hate to involve you in my own shit-”

“Larry. You’re my best friend and I care about you, even if you don’t care about you.”

“I know. I just- I should be over this already. I haven’t been to church in over sixty years- my parents have been dead for seventy- John’s already moved on- I just- goddammit, Rita. I’m lonely.” He pulls away to sit on his bed, head in his hands. “I haven’t touched another man in- god knows how long- and all I can think about is how wanting to is in itself a fucking abomination-”

“No.” Rita interrupted. “I’m not allowing that kind of negativity! It is not an abomination and you know it.” Larry only looked at her. “Now continue.”

“Uh. Okay. I miss- god, it sounds so stupid, but- I really miss-” He struggles to find the words. “Kissing men?”

Rita only nodded.

“I didn’t have the chance to- very often- but- god, Rita. There was this club- near one of my posts at the military. Before I met John. It wasn’t officially anything, but it was already a pretty established gay club. But, you know- it was more of a secret.”

“There was one of those near my apartment, you know.” Larry nodded.

“They were usually old speakeasies. But there was this man there- he was- he was really something, Rita. He was a regular, I think. Really tall.” Larry sighed wistfully. Rita smiled at him. She liked seeing him like that. Happy- or at least as close to happiness as she’d seen him get. “We spent… a lot of time together. Mostly in motel rooms.”

“What was his name?”

“I don’t remember. It was so long ago. I miss him anyway, though. Even if it was just a fling.”

“I understand.” Rita said, simply. “Have you considered- getting out there, again?”

“What, like dating? Cliff suggested it to me, but- I thought he was too enthusiastic about it. I don’t know.” It scared him, to be honest.

“I’m sure there are other gay metahumans.” Rita assured him. “With a tolerance for radiation.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about.”

“What, then?”

“How can someone love me when I can’t?” Larry was emotionless through the bandages, but Rita thought she could hear a frown. “I hate myself so. Fucking. Much, Rita. I can’t kill myself no matter how much I try- but what good is someone who’s only alive because something else is forcing them to be? Who would want that kind of baggage, Rita? Not even the fucking spirit can handle it, and it’s the thing keeping me this way.” His chest glowed.

“The first step is realizing you have a problem.”

“I realize I have a problem, Rita. I realized it when I was seven years old, thinking about some boy in my math class. I realized it every-goddamn-day when my own mother would cry and tell me she wished I’d never been born- that no matter what I did she would always love God more than me.” His voice wavered. “I realized it in church, and in school, and at home- every time the newspapers would come in with more horror stories about gay men found dead- every time a kid got the shit beat out of him by his own parents. It’s nobody’s fault but my own, Rita.” He huffed, and Rita faltered. She had never seen this from him before. “God-fucking-dammit! If I could’ve just been a normal person- for once in my goddamn life- god. Oh my god.” He stopped.

“Larry?”

“I fucking died, didn’t I?” He stood suddenly. “I died in that fucking plane crash and this is hell. I can’t die. I can’t touch anyone. I’m stuck wallowing in my own self-loathing like a fucking-”

“Larry.” Rita said again, firmly.

“And I deserve all of it! I destroyed everyone I ever loved! Just because I’m not attracted to women? Big fucking deal! I should’ve just sucked it up. I’m a fucking coward! I should’ve killed myself when I was twenty like I planned! But no. I was too scared. Fuck this! I-”

“Larry!” Rita half-yelled, stopping Larry mid sentence. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you are not helping yourself. Stop having a pity-party and listen to me.”

Larry didn’t answer. He was breathing shakily. Rita could tell he was likely crying under there again.

“There’s nothing wrong with you. Nothing!” She held up her hands. “I’m sorry you were told there was, but they were blatantly wrong. All of them. Liars.” She paused to watch him. He was standing as still as a statue, watching her silently. She hoped that meant he was listening. “I know it’s been ingrained into you. But you need to leave it behind. Stop dragging it with you. It will only hurt more. You’re accepted here, Larry. Nobody would even consider hurting you over something as simple as your sexuality. You don’t need to carry that weight anymore.”

Larry sighed. “I’m sorry, Rita. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s okay, Larry. I can’t imagine what you could be going through- but I offer my support, nonetheless.”

“I.” He paused. “Thank you.” 

FIVE 

When Larry was in the ant farm, he did not fear the torture. He knew he had it coming, anyway. It was God’s Will.

“You transferred a lot, Larry.” Forsythe would say, through the glass. “You were running from something. I intend to find out what.”

“I wasn’t running from anything.” Larry would say, over and over again.

The truth was Larry was running. Every time he thought his secret would be compromised he ran. Every time a fling ended or a boyfriend left or any of his army friends even joked about him being gay- he ran.

Now he faced the consequences for his actions, and he understood.

-

“Larry.” Chief said, bringing him back to attention. “What’s troubling you?”

This was before it all went downhill. Before Larry would come out. Before Mr. Nobody would remind him of every mistake he’d ever made. Before everything.

“Nothing. Just- remembering, is all.” Larry answered, quietly. “Before the accident.”

“Before the accident?” Chief knew it wasn’t really an accident. Larry did not. “Are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” Larry said, quickly. Chief already knew there was something about him and John. He couldn’t risk him figuring that out. “No. The past is- it’s already happened. It doesn't matter.”

“Oh, but it does, Larry.” Chief answered, in his usual way. “The past may not define us as much as the future, but it still needs to be learned from.” Larry sighed. He had heard this so many times.

“I did learn from it, Chief.” He learned very, very well. “It just sucks.”

“Is this about your friendship with John?” Larry froze. “I know you two were very… close.”

“We weren’t. I don’t want to talk about him.” He shrunk into his coat. Chief raised an eyebrow.

“You never want to talk about him, Larry. It’s not healthy.”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s probably dead, now.”

“Do you miss him?” Chief tilted his head. He knew there had to be a way to get through Larry’s shell. If he was to be a hero, like Niles intended, he had to face this head-on.

Larry took a moment before answering, assessing the risks. Was it too obvious to say yes? “...I do.” He paused. “A. Bit.”

Chief nodded. He was getting closer. “Quite a bit, you would say?”

It was Larry’s turn to nod, adrenaline flaring up hot in his chest. “We were friends. That’s it.”

“I wasn’t implying anything else.” Larry breathed in slightly. Chief could tell he was getting anxious. “Though- we both know- you two were… a bit more than friends, yes?”

“No. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t want to do this anymore.” Larry glanced around, starting to panic. “Whoever told you that, Chief- I- it’s not true. I didn’t even like him!” That was a bold lie. “I mean- if anybody was cheating- I mean- Sheryl and I were strained by the end of it-” He’s grasping for straws.

“Larry. We both know Sheryl was-” Chief was interrupted by a flash of light and Larry’s head slamming on the table. The spirit stood through the table, eyeing Chief down. He couldn’t tell how it was feeling- but judging from how agitated Larry had been beforehand, he didn’t think it was happy with him. No matter.

“There you are.” He started, but the spirit shook its head. “No? You don’t want to talk to me?” It shook its head again and held up a hand. “Oh. Who taught you the middle finger?” It tilted its head. Chief could feel it glaring daggers at him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s important that Captain Trainor learn to-” The spirit had enough of that. It flew in a small circle around Chief, shorting out the lone light in the room. A threat. It knew Chief knew what it was capable of.

Larry awoke suddenly to Chief watching him. He must’ve needed the spirit for something- he doesn’t really know about John. He sighed, instinctively rubbing his goggles.

“That was… unintentional. I apologize, Larry.” Larry looked at him. What the fuck was he after? “Now- John-”

“No. Fuck, Niles. I’m not doing this.” Larry stood. “I’m not reliving my mistakes for you. I’m going to take a nap.”

“Larry. We both know it wasn’t a mistake.” Chief held out his hands. “You cheated on your wife. You hid. Why?”

“I did not cheat on Sheryl. I did not hide. Niles. I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m not going to-” He paused. “I’m not going to do this. I cared about her.” That, at least, was not a lie. “I loved her.” That was. “It’s over, now. I’m paying for what I did- who I was. Just- let that be.”

“Who were you, though?”

“I was a sinner, Chief.” Larry left. 

SIX x3 

“Sheryl.” Larry had said, so long ago. She looked over, glowing in the moon, her hair slightly in her face. He felt no attraction whatsoever for her. He tried to force himself to, anyway. It was sinful. He had to do this.

“I have something to tell you.”

“Yeah?” She smiled. She was his friend. He chose her only because she was the only girl he felt he could at least live with.

God. He felt sick. He knew this would hurt her, too. He didn’t want this.

“I love you.” Lying is a sin, too. A lesser of two evils, he had decided. Anything to avoid burning in hell. Anything. Just like his parents had told him. Just like the ministers said.

“Larry!” She had laughed. He felt like throwing up.

Outwardly, Larry had been untouched. Untainted by tragedy and self-hatred. Inwardly, he had become a flaming wreck long before that crash.

-

“Vic.” Larry stood in the doorway, nervously. “Hey.”

“Hey, Larry.” Vic turned to give him a wave. “What’s up?”

“Well. I. Uh.” Larry paused. This was terrifying. “You know- computers and stuff, right?”

“Uh- yeah! What do you need?” Vic looks at him for a moment. He really didn’t mind helping everyone with modern technology! He just never really realized how old everyone was until he was explaining to Larry how color TVs worked- or that cocaine was not a viable medicine anymore to Rita.

“I. Want to meet people.” He held up his phone. “I don’t. Know how.”

“Oh. Where did you get that phone?”

“Rita said I could borrow it.”

“...Okay. What do you want me to do?” Vic hasn’t dated since he was in high school. What was Larry expecting from him?

“Cliff said there are apps for it. For men. Meeting. Other. Men.” Larry is gritting his teeth. “You know computers. I want to. Download one.”

“Oh. Oh! I can help you with that. To an extent.” Vic clarified. “I’ll only help you set up and show you how to use it- the chatting is up to you.”

“Okay.” Larry handed him the phone.

“What are you after? There’s apps for metahumans, and gay people- I’m pretty sure there’s one for veterans-”

“Well. I guess I’d need. The metahuman one. Since they’d need. Some kind of.” He held up his hands. “Immunity.”

“Right.” Vic did not like that implication. “Does Rita know you want to hook up with guys through her phone?”

“Yes. She helped me prepare for this conversation.” Larry shuffled his feet nervously. “It. Did not work. Still awkward.”

“You two are close. Okay- so I downloaded an app called Metameet- it’s mainly for metahumans but there’s an option for gay members. You’re- what, 95? So I already set your username as larrytrainor. That’s usually what- people around your age do.”

“I’m 92. Though the accident was when I was 30-something.”

“Okay. I’ll put that as your age. And. Probably mention that you’re immortal.”

“No. Wait.” Larry put his hand on Vic’s shoulder. “Don’t put that I’m gay. Please.”

“Larry, it’ll say you’re a man seeking a man either way.”

“I know. I just- I can’t be gay. I can’t.” He nearly gagged on the word both times. Vic only looked at him.

“...Okay.” He hit the backspace button. “What’s your problem with it?”

Larry froze. Over the past month he’s had to explain this- five times? “Uh. I.” Fuck. Fuck! He doesn’t deserve this. “It’s just not allowed. I’m not- I’m not supposed to be- into men.”

“You know that’s not true, right?” Vic gave him a confused look. “You… are allowed to be gay, Larry.”

“It’s not like that. I-” He breathed in. “I guess you’re a little too young to really get it.”

“Try me.”

“In the 30s and 40s when I was a kid- it wasn’t- legal. To like. Others. Of the same sex.”

“Yeah?”

“Everyone was really religious, too. So. As hard as I tried to hide it- my parents eventually figured it out. I was 11. After that it just-” He paused. Vic nodded.

“Oh. We learned about that in history in high school.”

“Yeah. It was pretty common for parents to try and beat it out of us.” He paused. “Didn’t work.”

“I’m sorry about that.” Vic started-

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter, now.”

“Okay.” A pause. “I’m going to put ‘radiation immunity’ as a must.”

“That’s a good idea.” Another pause.

“Can I ask…?”

“Ask what?”

“How did you meet him?”

Larry went silent for a minute, and Vic was scared he made him sad again, somehow.

“We were in the same squadron.” He started slowly, remembering. “He wasn’t my first, honestly- but he was the- he was the one I really loved. I- honestly? If it wasn’t- literally illegal- and I was already married- I probably would have-” He stopped. He never said that out loud.

“That’s. That’s rough, Larry.” He stopped to think. “You can do that now, you know.”

“Yeah. I think- I think that’s why I’m doing this.” A pause.

“I think I’m ready to live the way I always wanted to.”

[lexiconomine]

summer lovin’ - billy hargrove

summary: despite nancy’s best attempts, you poke and prod until you score a date with the talk of the town word count: 6,771 pairing: billy x reader warnings: explicit language, sex, oral sex, cigarette use (only by Billy), excessive pet name use notes: reupload bc I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED the entire text block trying to edit the tags :( I hope this finds its way back into people’s sights o o f anyway I hope y’all enjoy pt2!

It’s not that you don’t know how to swim, or even that you aren’t a good swimmer. In fact, you were one of the best on your high school team back home. But your mission here wasn’t just to swim a couple of laps. No, it was to scope out this new guy in town that everyone and their mother are always talking about. The one you’d only ever had an up-close interaction with one other time.

He was right in front of you in the line to the drugstore counter, buying a pack of Marlboro Reds and a bottle of Coke. The smell of his cologne highly overpowered any memory you have of that day, but you’re able to recall noticing his curls and the low drawl of his voice. You’d not made eye contact with him until he turned around to leave, and he flashed you a sly smirk as he gave you a painfully slow once-over. You watched as he walked out the door, doing the same for him.

And in that one small interaction, you felt as if any effort you took to breathe afterward were futile.

“I’m telling you right now, you do not wanna get involved with that,” Nancy protested to you once before when you brought him up that same day, combing through her permed hair in front of her vanity. “I’ve never even interacted with him and even I know he’s had sex with half the girls in your class.”

“Uh-huh…”

“He was literally there for less than a year.”

You decided to hold any response you had. A short moment of silence passed before Nancy started up again, a gentler tone than the one she held in her previous statements.

“It’s just… you miss a lot when you leave right before Hawkins goes to shit.”

At this point, during peak summer season, you still don’t know what it is, exactly, that drew you so strongly toward Billy Hargrove; but you’re really not sure whether or not you want to find out. You know it’s not the obvious fact that he’s a huge flirt to even the fact that he is so gorgeous in every way imaginable. Perhaps it’s the way all of your childhood friends who had stayed behind keep telling you to stay away, that he’s nothing but trouble; and hearing that over and over began to make you realize that you want to be the judge of that.

And maybe that’s way you’re making it a point to send the most intense gaze his way every time you locked eyes during his scans. You’re trying so hard to provoke him. It’s a notion, a siren’s call to him, which you can tell he’s acknowledging by the that he slides his tongue along his bottom lip, the slightest hint of a smile forming, before placing his whistle between his teeth and repeating his scan.

Now that you can tell you’ve gotten his attention, you slide your sunglasses back onto your face to continue watching him more discreetly, lying back against the lounge chair. You notice a subtle pause in Billy’s movement, and you let the feeling of triumph wash over you as he begins to climb down from his lifeguard stand.

Hook.

You watch as he makes his way over to you, quite nonchalantly and with an arrogant air.

“Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but uh,” he starts up the moment he gets within your vicinity, “something tells me you’re here for more than just a tan.”

You swing your legs over to one side so that you can sit up facing him, looking up and meeting his gaze. Amused, you decide to entertain. “And so what if I am?”

“Well, that’d really be a shame, sweetheart. ‘Cause I’m stuck here ’til six.” Billy grows a flirty smile, the very one that you’d been warned about by just about every girl she knew from Hawkins High.

Line.

“I got time,” is the snarky response you had been waiting to say to him, confident that two can play at this game he loves to play.

It seems as if Billy is taken aback to this, letting loose a soft chuckle as his eyebrows cock upward, lower lip catching between his teeth to help suppress the laugh. God, those lips.

“Alright,” he nods, seemingly impressed that you decided to match the energy he exuded. His smile has the ability to make anyone weak at the knees. He crouches down to your eye level and leans in close—so close that you can feel the tension between the two of you thicken the moment his lips just barely graze your ear. It is at this moment that he speaks into your ear, low and gruff. “Hope you brought somethin’ pretty for me.”

…And sinker.

And with a wink, he straightens himself up, turns around, and begins making his next round of the pool deck.

Despite the apparent disappointed glares you can feel radiating from Nancy and Jonathan, you hoist yourself up from your seat with a cheeky smile, setting all your unwettables down in your wake. They can think whatever it is that they’re thinking. You can already tell that you are very likely to experience a fun night. They should be happy that you’re meeting new people instead of lounging around in the Wheeler basement eating all their food and sleeping the day away until Nancy returns from work (which, spoiler alert, most of the time she doesn’t).

“I have a date,” you taunt before making your way to one of the pool lanes and diving in headfirst to swim a couple of laps.

*****

“You know, it’s not too late to bail,” Nancy coaxes at a low volume with the mentality that somehow she was saving her best friend from corruption. However, this statement is only met with a scoff followed by a light giggle.

“Relax, Nance. I’m a big girl who can take care of herself. Swear it.”

Right on cue, you and Nancy both stuck your pinkies out and interlaced them, holding them that way for a beat.

“Please call if you need me to come get you.”

“Will do, boss.”

With that, you parted ways, and you watch as Nancy plops down into the passenger’s seat of Jonathan’s car. As they drive away, a low whistle creeps up behind you.

“Got a hot date?”

You turn on your heel to find Billy leant up against the wall, curls looking gorgeous as ever and his low-buttoned top being the cherry on top of the cake that is this beautiful specimen. Placing your hands on your hips and shifting all your weight to your left leg, you flash him a teasing smile. “Well, wouldn’t you like to know?”

Billy reaches into the pocket of his denim jacket and pulls out a Marlboro cigarette along with his zippo lighter. As he saunters over to you, his sticks the cig in his mouth and lights it, taking a light puff from it to get the tobacco burning.

“What do you say we ditch ‘im, huh?” He suggests, playing into the typical good girl with bad boy situation where he steals the innocent you from your high school sweetheart and shows you what a good time really is. Taking a long drag from his cigarette, he continues after he removes it and holds it between his pointer and middle finger, light clouds forming around his mouth and dissipating after less than a second. “Why don’t I show show you how a real man’s suppose to treat a doll like yourself.”

The smile on your face turns into something soft and sultry as you step toward him, closing the gap between the two of you. You press your chest up against his warm body, fingers barely grazing over his waistline. Watching as his tongue pokes out to glide along his lips, you speak, smooth and coy. “I’d like a movie.”

The rugged blonde raises his free hand up to you face, takes a stray strand of your hair, and tucks it behind your ear, leaving an excited burning sensation along your cheek. “Movie it is.”

Taking another drag from his cigarette, Billy begins to lead the way to his car, sliding his right arm around your waist to allow himself a firm grasp on your hip and using his left to smoke his cig. As you reach his car, he crosses in front of you to open the passenger door, allowing you to sit. You mutter a quick word of thanks before he shuts the door for you and enters himself. Once the car is started, there’s a brief moment where he eyes you once more and smiles to himself as he turns his attention ahead of him, murmuring, “So fuckin’ pretty.”

The car ride is casual, the both of you making nice small talk and flirting every couple of minutes. Compliments are exchanged, laughs are had; it is so much more comfortable than she expected. There’s much less pressure. But once you arrive at the mall, it seems as if date mode has officially turned on. Billy insists on paying for your tickets and popcorn because “What kind of date is this if I let you pay for your own things?” It is surprisingly very gentlemanly of him.

During the movie, though, is when it gets interesting. You’d both decided to watch the horror film that had just come out (for the plot, of course); and Billy wastes no time draping his arm around your shoulders, subconsciously toying with the ends of your hair while you watched on. About halfway through the in, though, the movie soon becomes background noise to the low chatters and whispers between you two.

“Not gonna lie, this movie could be nice if I wasn’t so distracted,” Billy begins, leaning his head closer to you so that you’re able to hear his words. Once he brings his head back to its previous position, you mirror his gesture to speak.

“Lemme guess, my fault?” You tease, feeling like you already know his tricks before he even uses them. The young man beside you lets out a light snort of laughter, nodding as if to indicate he’d been figured out. Although you already have an inkling of his next move, by God, was it fun to play along. “How so?”

Billy turns his head to look at the side your face, adjusting his body so that he can comfortably do so. You meet his gaze once you notice that he’d started to shift a bit, admiring how he still manages to look so good even in the shallow lighting coming from the movie screen. Darting out his tongue to wet his lips, he tested you, “You really wanna know, princess?”

“Try me.”

A small, flirty grin creeps onto his face, and he opens his mouth so as to speak, but his mouth looks like it’s moved before his brain. He takes a breath in and reveals himself. “To be completely honest with you, I’ve been thinkin’ about kissing you all day.”

Your breath immediately catches in your throat. You’re quite surprised to hear those words come out of that mouth. In a way, you consider weighing your options, thinking back to all the trouble Nancy said it would cause you.

On the one hand, you very well might end up just being another notch on his belt. You could give in and give him everything you have to give and then end up nothing but a one night stand to him, which, you keep in mind, you’re fully prepared for. Prepared for the looks from the Hawkins girls who dream of being in your shoes every time you go to the mall, the pool, the arcade, for the entirety of what’s left of this summer. Prepared for all of that and not even so much as a bat of an eyelash from Billy.

On the other hand, you could follow what all of your logical reasoning is currently telling you and not entertain this any more than a couple of kisses, leaving him with possibly the bluest of balls for the night. It would definitely save you the trouble of giving an essence of you to someone who would forget all about it come sunrise.

Of course, you know now is not the time to play coy after all that effort you’d put into getting where you currently sit at this moment; so instead of retreating to the safer option (because let’s face it, Billy Hargrove is a dangerous endeavor), you decide to say the words you know your entire being wants you to say.

“Why don’t you, then?”

“Yeah?” He purrs in response with that smile as he leans in toward you, connecting his lips to yours with a hunger you had not yet known before this. Your head spins when he reaches a hand up to caress the nape of your neck, slowly running it up to cup your cheek as if you are the most delicate thing in the world. His touch makes the most pleasant chills run down your neck and spine. You soon begin to feel lightheaded, like he’s taking your very essence with this one longing kiss that he leads like a waltz. It’s all too much.

You can clearly hear Nancy’s voice in your head scolding you a million times and then some, and you already know that this is the last thing you should be doing and she just doesn’t ever want to see you get hurt; but you can’t help but acknowledge how good it feels to be rebelling against her constant advising for once. Especially when Billy is right here, kissing you so sensually with such skill and finesse. Especially when the scent of him is currently etching itself into your brain as he slides his tongue into your mouth, warm and smooth. You let yourself surrender to your fantasies and follow in suit, your own tongue slowly circling his in a way that pulls a low-pitched moan from the back of his throat.

You feel like you’re going crazy with just this taste of him.

It feels like it’s almost immediately then that you have to force yourself away, him following the ghost of your movement before realizing you’d already gone. You lean into his ear, much like he had this afternoon, inhaling the mixture of his hairspray and cologne and traces of cigarette smoke. And in that moment, you’re fully aware that this might be the point of no return when you breathe into his ear, “Take me to your car.”

Somehow, someway, something clicks inside of the boy beside you because in an instant, he’s reaching for your hand, pulling you from the seat as he makes a beeline headed straight for the exit. You follow in suit, the both of you practically speeding up to a moderate jog. You reach the car within two or three minutes, yanking your respective doors open and slamming them without an ounce of a fuck given if they fall straight off the car.

The amount of lust in the air around you and him is almost paralyzing as your lips reconnected after what felt like an eternity. Hands quickly travel to places they’d been dying to be on for hours on end, resting so perfectly on every and any curve and edge they land on. You feel like you can lose yourself in him, the heat in the car building up with the sounds of his moans and his growls. You had never fit so well with anybody else.

Billy’s hand sneaks up your back, and his fingers entangle themselves into your hair, gathering a portion of it for him to grab onto. Almost immediately, you begin making haste of unbuttoning his shirt. He surprisingly begins to pull away from you, holding you at bay with the fistful of hair he’d obtained.

“Easy, kitten,” he coos, tracing his thumb along your lower lip with his free hand. He knows exactly what you want by the way you look at him with such longing and desire, but he’s got other plans. “Pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to be in such a rush.”

The needy groan you let out elicits a sultry chuckle from him, the boy who has you wrapped around the tip of his little pinky finger. He yanks onto your hair, jerking your head back as he buries himself into your neck and the smell of you. The way he’s trailing slow, sloppy kisses down your neck and to your shoulder has you growing more and more fervid. Sex has got to be a legitimate talent because this boy has got it.

“Smells so fuckin’ nice,” he mumbles into your skin, deeply inhaling your scent. He then pulls away all too soon, leaving you feeling cold and filled to the brim with pent up energy; but he presses an eager kiss to your lips and lingers for just a moment, licking at your upper lip with a sigh that held the burden of a million different hormones coursing through his veins. He knows that he wants you so badly it hurts.

However, as much as he would love to rip all of your clothes off and defile you in the back of his Camaro (and as much as you want him to), you sense that he’s holding back some when he starts the engine and begins to drive away from the mall.

You straighten yourself, tucking your blouse back into the waistband of your jeans and fastening your seatbelt. As Billy drives, you note the way his jaw clenches and his grip on the steering wheel tightens every so often. “Everything okay, Billy?”

“Yep,” he answers nonchalantly, as if he isn’t currently sporting the demeanor of an agitated wild animal.

“Did I do something?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Oh.”

There’s a short pause between the two of you, the first real silence that is present all night. That is, until Billy speaks again. 

“So that’s why I’m taking you to bed with me.”

Oh.

Somewhat of an awkward silence takes place for a couple of seconds, and he soon comes to the realization that maybe he should have asked you that instead of declared it. Unbeknownst to him, you actually don’t mind his assertiveness. After all, although you aren’t necessarily expecting your date to end on a rated-R note, you certainly aren’t opposed to the idea.

“Unless you don’t want to,” he starts up again, “I can just take you back to Nancy’s instead.”

“No,” you refuse, shaking your head to match your verbal expression. Sure, it might be growing late and Nancy might be waiting for you to return, but you don’t care. The absolute last thing you want to do right now is leave. “I want to.”

As much as the blonde tries to hide it, you can see a smile forming onto his face. “Okay then. My place it is.”

Sporting a smile of your own, you study the structure of Billy’s profile with the help of whatever light sources decide to become available to illuminate his face. For the remainder of the car ride to his house, you watch his face as he drives, as he mouths the words to the songs on the radio, as he concentrates hard on the dark backroad. Every so often, he meets your gaze for just a split second and teases you, saying things like, “Eyes on the road, creepy lady.”

“Are you sure it’ll be fine for me to be here?” You question as Billy pulls up to his home. You really don’t want to bring him any trouble. It’s quite ironic.

“Should be fine, sugar,” he reassures, leaning back in his seat to look at you. “My folks are always asleep by this time, so just make sure not to make too much noise.”

You give him a playful scoff, lightly swatting at his shoulder as he laughs at your reaction. After unbuckling your seatbelt, you open the car door. “Billy Hargrove, you are unbelievable,” you snort as you bring yourself outside of the vehicle, walking ahead of him and planting yourself right at the front door to wait.

He fumbles with his keys for a minute and jams one into the lock, turning it so that a click is audible, signifying access inside. With a light pat on your ass, he urges you to step in before him so that he can shuffle in right behind you. “In you go, doll,” he says, stifling a laugh at the tiny yelp of surprise you let out, earning himself a playful glare in response.

Shutting the door and locking it behind him, Billy then leads you to his room, which smells heavily of cigarette smoke and musky cologne—much like an extension of him. You plop yourself down on the edge of his bed, watching him as he shuts the bedroom door, locks it, and saunters over to his stereo.

“Now,” he prompts, pressing the power button to play his usual rock music at a moderately low volume. With a playful smile, he leans over you, and, using as little effort as possible from his fingers, pushes you so that you fall back onto the mattress before he crawls on top of her. “Where were we?”

“I think I can give you a refresher,” you giggle in response before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in toward you to kiss him with every single bit of lust you can ever think to give to him. You resist every invasive urge to laugh when it seems like Billy is surprised beyond belief that you’d make such a bold move. He groans low as you claw at his jacket to get it off of him.

You feel hands plant themselves on your waist, feeling your curves as they travel up to pull your blouse out of your jeans. At the same time, you make your second attempt at unbuttoning his shirt, which he lets you do this time. In a matter of moments, Billy is already half naked and ready to give you anything you want.

“Someone’s a little hasty,” he teases, nipping at your lip before sliding your entire body up on his mattress toward the pillows. He grabs a fistful of fabric from your shirt, proceeding to pull your blouse up your torso as you giggle.

In the swiftest beat, he takes your top off over your head and unhooks your bras as he latches himself onto your neck, sucking harshly at the smooth skin. Once he tosses your garments to the side, he pulls back to look you over, causing your ears to burn and your cheeks to become freckled with pink.

“Oh, I love these,” he marvels, reaching down to cup your breasts and glided his thumbs over the nipples, eliciting a pleased groan from you. He slowly circles his thumbs atop the sensitive nubs, his tongue running along the perimeter of his lower lip in growing desire. As he presses a kiss onto the soft skin in his hands, he muses, “Fuckin’ amazing tits.”

He is so vulgar, and you love it so much.

After taking in the sight of your bare chest, he leans down to place kisses up and down your sternum and on your breasts, continuing to play with your nipples until you begin to squirm from his touch. Soon, he lets his hands travel down your abdomen to begin undoing your jeans.

“Let me taste you, baby girl. I bet you taste so good,” he whispers against your skin, so quiet and intimate. You’re surprised that you just barely heard it. The words that are leaving his mouth almost sound desperate, but you’d never thought he had ever had to beg for anything from anyone. From his mouth, a couple of needy pants can be heard as he looks up to face you, eyes pleading and aching to please you. “Please let me make you feel good.”

This is definitely a first for you. Never in your life had you ever had someone begging to please you; in fact, you often found yourself lucky if any of your partners would even consider returning the favor.

You find yourself wondering just how good Billy is at giving head, so much so that you can’t help but nod your head and breathe out, “Okay.”

Billy lets out a satisfied and eager moan as he immediately pulls the zipper of your jeans down and practically rips them off in one fell swoop. He then hooks his thumbs into the sides of your panties, admiring the color and texture of them. “These all for me, sweetheart?” He hums playfully before sliding them off carelessly.

Once you’re completely naked, he whistles, “Look at that… So pretty and wet.” He can’t help but stare, and it leads you to try to break the silence of your slight embarrassment.

“Like what you see?” You ask, resting your arms above your head to make your figure seem more appealing.

“Like it? I love it, kitten.”

The words that leave Billy’s mouth make you feel less self-conscious about this whole thing, makes you feel more able to let yourself just be in the moment. And this is such a great moment to be in.

At first, Billy teases you, scooting onto his stomach and making himself comfortable below your waist before planting slow kisses onto your inner thighs as he holds your legs apart with those calloused hands of his. Your body begins to quiver and twitch with anticipation, and you wish that he would just get on with it and stop playing his games. But, of course, he just has to make it memorable for you.

Soon enough, you can feel your body react on its own, your back arching in pleasure when, finally, he flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow strip all the way up your pussy. “Fuck,” you gasp, which pulls a short laugh from the face between your legs.

His tongue circles slowly all the way around the general area of your cunt, moaning lavishly at the taste of you before he flicks the tip of his tongue over that small collection of nerves that had been itching for attention all night. Just that one movement from him is enough to send you beyond the moon and all the way back.

You completely adore the feeling of his tongue licking you up and down, his strong hands holding onto you like you were a rare delicacy; and by God, he was about to indulge you.

The majority of his attention goes straight toward rubbing and circling his tongue so expertly on your clit, occasionally sticking it out all the way to lap up your taste, chuckling or moaning every time you swear or moan or gasp in pleasure. At one point, he pulls away for a fraction of a second and spits downward, letting a short stream of saliva run down your pussy before licking it back up in such a messy manner. You feel so dirty in the best way possible as you rock your hips against his tongue and beg him to make you come.

Billy lies his tongue flat onto your clit, following the lead you end up taking and finding the utmost of pleasure in the fact that you’re essentially getting yourself off on just a small part from his entire body. After a moment, however, he grows desperate to taste your sweet release, gripping you harshly by your hips and holding your waist down to the mattress as he once again takes the reins.

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you pant, gripping the edges of his pillow so hard that you swear your knuckles are turning white. At this moment, you’re beginning to see stars from how good he’s making you feel. “God, Billy, I’m getting so close.”

He hums in acknowledgement to your statement, taking it as a cue to continue doing what he feels he could do forever.

It feels like he’s composing the most complicated music onto your pleading body, his tongue doing wonders on you as he continues to eat you as if his life depends on it. You can feel your body growing more erratic by the second, tension building inside of you, and you don’t know how much longer you’re going to last. It seems that Billy is more than ready to push you right over the edge.

“Coming—,” is all you manage to push past the knot that forms in your throat, choking on your own breath as one of the most powerful orgasms you’ve ever had takes over you. You try your absolute hardest to not make too loud of noises, which results in squeals and choked moans as Billy licks up every last drop of you, slow and steady.

You pant slowly as he finally detaches himself from you, using his forearm to wipe his mouth and chin clean. A smug smirk forms on his face as he kisses his way up your body back to your lips, pressing a quick kiss onto them. “You taste absolutely incredible, gorgeous.”

All you can do is stare, awe stricken and lightheaded. You try to say something meaningful and worth something in this moment, but all you can get out of your mouth is, “You’re fucking fantastic.”

“I know.” “I take it back.”

Billy laughs, kissing you again because he just can’t bother to do anything else. You return the kiss, cupping his cheek in your hand. This one is a gentler kiss. A sweeter one. You like it, but you hope that doesn’t mean it’s over already.

Pulling away, you hesitate, but spoke nonetheless, “Do you have…”

As you trail off, he manages to catch on to what you’re hinting at, leaving you with no need to finish your sentence.

“Of course, sweet face,” he replies with the same smoothness and charm that landed the both of you in this very situation. He reaches over to open the drawer on his bedside table and pulls out a half empty box of Trojan brand condoms, pulling one out and setting the box back down on the table. As you watch him, he meets your gaze once more, making you feel more naked than nude when he gives you yet another look over.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he sighs, leaning down and crashing his lips back onto yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue; and out of all the times you’d kissed him tonight, this was by far the least put-together state you’d witnessed him in. But, of course, he snaps back into that old charm of his after he parts from you with a small nip of your lip and you wonder for a moment just how many women he’s said that to. Then, he gives you the same lusty look he’d shot your way many times before at the community pool as he removes his jeans and underwear, tore open the condom wrapper, and finally says the words:

“I’m gonna fuck the living shit outta you.”

That sentence alone makes you whine. Still riding from your previous orgasm, you press your thighs together to allow yourself some friction—any friction—as Billy slides the condom so skillfully onto his cock.

“No, no, none of that, princess,” he tuts, spreading your legs apart again to completely open you up to him. He pauses for a moment, marveling at the sight of you practically begging him to fuck you just by the furrow of your brow and your subtle pout. You swear you see him about to drool. “You don’t have to do a thing, pretty girl.”

With that, he slides his cock into your pussy so agonizingly slow as he growls in pure bliss, a flithy smile growing onto his face at the sound of the lewd moan that leaves your lips. You find yourself completely relishing in the feeling of connecting to Billy in a way many girls can only dream of. “Fuck, you like that baby?”

You can only manage to nod your head in response through all the fogginess in your head. Once he is all the way inside of you, he begins to pull out at the same pace, repeating the motion over and over again.

“Billy, please,” you plead, the tempo at which his hips grind against your pelvis and buries himself deep inside of you driving you completely mad. You almost want to cry out of pure frustration from the way he’s teasing you. You just want more of him, anything he’s willing to give you.

The young devil leans down onto his elbows for support so that he’s almost face to face with you, and you can feet his breath right on your cheek. Even the tone he holds in the way he responds is enough to make you lose your mind and the fucker knows it. “Please, what?”

And you can barely think straight with the way he’s working you, with his hands caressing your hips to guide you onto his cock. The way he moves seems like clockwork, a second nature to him, teasing you so well with his sinful hips and immaculate touch.

Between your whines and stifled moans, you reach a hand up to caress his face again, making eye contact with him no matter how hard it might be to keep concentrated. Your other hand joins, both of them now moving back to entangle your fingers into the smooth curls of his mullet. Soft and desperate, you beg, “Please fuck me harder.”

Billy lets out a tantalizing laugh. “That’s just what I like to hear.”

You can’t help but to let out a yelp of pleasure that is just a touch too loud as he picks up the pace of his hips. He immediately clamps a hand down over your mouth, shushing you in a way you never knew you could find sexy at all as he begins to slam his cock into you at a quicker pace.

“You want us to get caught, huh? Want my dad to barge in and find me buried deep in you while you just take it?” He presses, panting in between his words as he tries not to give into the ecstasy of being inside of you too much. “God, this pussy is fucking heavenly.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you focus on the wonderful feeling of Billy stretching out your pristine, tight little pussy. You begin to feel like you could ascend above the clouds right into heaven. He lets go of your mouth, replacing his hand with his mouth as his hips hold their steady rhythm. This kiss is sloppy and messy, the both of you moaning into each other’s mouths while they bite and nip at each other.

Billy then rips his face away from yours, panting as he looks at your face. Sweat drips from his forehead down the side of his face, but he doesn’t falter. You start to think he has the stamina of an olympic athlete.

He slows after a while, compensating for it by grinding into you as deep as he possibly can. The room fills with the smell of sex and the sound of your pants mixing together with his. It is after a moment that you begin to feel a touch too selfish.

“Do you want me to do anything?” You offer, brushing away the strands of hair that are sticking to his forehead from his sweat. Pouting subtly, you continue. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He shakes his head before pressing a kiss onto your forehead, insisting that he’s fine. “I’m almost there, kitten,” he reassures, biting down onto his lower lip hard to hold back some of his pants. Then, taking a deep breath, he returns to his previous speed to get himself off. Gasping in surprise, you hook your arms under his to plant your hands onto his sweaty back, feeling his muscles contract as he moves.

His broad figure looms over you, and you dig your nails into his skin, scratching to make up for all the moans and screams you want to let out so that he knows just how good he’s making you feel.

“I’m gonna come, baby girl,” he pants, trying his best to hold back from completely wrecking you like he actually wants to.

Just from hearing that statement, you let out an eager moan as your hands scramble to grab onto his face, pulling it down to your own to plant the hungriest kiss you’d ever given anyone. When you break the kiss, you hug his head atop of your shoulder, pleading into his ear in the sweetest tone Billy had ever heard in his life, “Come inside of me.”

With those words, Billy lets out a strained groan of Bure bliss and ecstasy right into your ear as he spills himself into the condom. He soon slows the pace of his hips, body twitching ever so slightly as he rides out the remainder of his orgasm.

“Shit,” he sighs, letting out a final deep breath as he pulls his cock out of you and plops down beside you, occupying whatever space was left on the bed. You follow his lead when he starts to slide under the covers. “I need a smoke.”

You giggle and reach over to the floor beside where you lie in bed, pulling his Marlboro box and lighter from his jacket and rolling onto your other side to hand them to him. He smiles slightly as he pulls a cigarette from the box and puts it in his mouth, dangling it in his lips in front of you and letting you light in before he takes his first drag from it. He then offers you a smoke from his cigarette, taking it between two fingers from his mouth, to which you reject, simply saying, “I don’t smoke.”

He simply shrugs before exhaling the smoke toward the ceiling as you set the box and lighter down on his bedside table. You turn back to find his looking right at you, admiring the features on your face.

“What?” You breathe, a shy smile on your face as you rest your head onto his pillow.

“Say you’ll come out with me again,” he requests, supporting himself by the elbow of his free arm to look down at you as he continued to smoke on his cigarette. You don’t even realize that the face you pull in response reads as confused and just a bit shocked. “I’m serious. I’ll take you someplace nice, like dinner or the beach or some shit.”

“Is the infamous Billy Hargrove asking me on a second date?” You tease with a playful gasp, knowing that part of his reputation included never going out with the same girl twice. Obviously, you hadn’t prepared for this possibility when you did your introspective option-weighing at the movie theatre.

He scoffs, unable to stop the laugh that leaves the back of his throat. “Fuck you.”

You watch as he takes another long drag from his cigarette, and you shuffle onto your stomach to make yourself comfortable, scooting closer to the edge of the bed to allow him more space. Peeking up at him through your eyelashes, you question, “You know I’m going back to Vegas after the summer’s over, right?”

All Billy does is shrug, not seeming to mind. “Doesn’t mean we can’t have a bit of fun with the time we got left.”

A soft hum leaves your mouth as you watch him finish off his cigarette and toss the butt into his trash. Surely another date with him wouldn’t be so bad. “Sounds like a plan,” you give in, letting yourself enjoy the possibility of having a summer where you don’t have to wait around for Nancy all day every day.

Billy smiles in triumph, leaning down to press a kiss onto your lips. You smile a bit, too, into the kiss, the sealer of the best night of your entire summer. So far, at least. When he pulls away from you, he strokes your cheek with the knuckle of his pointer finger, noting the way you almost lean into his touch and the warmth of his hand.

“Billy?”

“Yes, princess?”

“Please do not leave that condom on your dick.”

[rwolf19]

Garden Pt. 3 — An Elucien Fic

Length: 3911

Rating: M, SFW(ish)

First | Previous | The Pull (Nessian) | Aflame

A/N: Hullo, I’m back. I have this nasty habit of sitting on finished fics until I forget about them. My bad! But also, FUCK TUMBLR IT’S NOT LIKE I’M TRYING TO POST ON MOBILE AND GOT FUCKED IN THE ASS INSTEAD STUPID ASS FUCKING APP DESIGNED TO MURDER ITS USERS FOR THE SAKE OF MONEY I’M GOING TO AO3 and I’M NOT COMING BACK I’M rWolfWrites fuck this shiiiittt it wasn’t going to be an April’s Fool shit but damn does this fucking nonsense PISS ME OFFFFFFFFFF I COPY AND PASTE THE WHOLE ASS THING AND IT TELLS ME IM OVER PARAGRAPH LIMIT WITH LITERALLY LIKE FIVE LEFT GO SUCK A DICK TUMBLR I’M FUCKING TAKING MY FICS AND LEAVING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST IT’S NOT PORN YOU PRUDISH FUCKS YALLST WANT JUST THE BEGINNING JUST THE END OR SOME FUCKING NONSENSE EVERY OTHER GODDAMN PARAGRAPH FUCK IM GOING TO WRITE SOME AFLAME AU WHILE IM MAD JESUS Fuck

WHY IS THERE SO MUCH DEAD SPACE JUSR LET ME POST LIKE THREE PARAGRAPHS OF THE FUCKING NONSENSE JESUS H CHRIST EAT A DICK TUMBLR

Elain liked the Day Court. She liked the way Lucien’s russet eye gleamed as his tinker-friend explained things. She liked the marble and the air and the sky. More than the Night Court, it was peaceful. Not in the same way, though. The Day Court was bustling and bursting with energy. There was always someone to help, always something to do.

And the City of the Sun—gods, she loved Solas. It was bright and full of hard-working people who yet stopped to enjoy the feel of the sun on skin or scale or carapace. Everyone wore more or less the same thing; everyone had passionate conversations of whatever fancy had recently taken their interest; everyone tried everything and spoke only of the good. Little complaining was heard because they had all been subject to terrible hardship.

“Elain, I do believe you are single-handedly going to change how people view the Night Court,” Helion said over dinner. She and Lucien always dined together, but Helion showed up only when he wanted to. They’d been given a suite of rooms with a dining and sitting area between their bedrooms. They shared a bathroom as well, though Elain was used to that. “Anyone I talk to can only say that you brighten the day.”

Elain blushed, “The people here are very welcoming. I’ve never met so many who are so purposefully happy.”

Lucien grunted in agreement and pushed his food around his plate. Helion sat at the head of the small table, and Lucien was across from Elain. She stretched out her foot carefully and nudged him. His eyes raised to hers for a moment before returning to his half-finished plate.

“Come now, Elain, don’t sell yourself short,” Helion smiled broadly. “Tell me, can you see yourself staying here?” Lucien’s head snapped up with a snarl. “Don’t.” “Lucien.” Helion only laughed and threw a grape into his mouth. He leaned back in his chair. “There was no reason for Rhysand to send both of you here unless he wants to incorporate something of his here or something of mine in the Night Court. I’m simply wondering-“ “I asked to come,” Elain said softly, her eyes never leaving Lucien. He continued to glare at the High Lord. She wanted to come to get away from Nesta. Because despite how many times Nesta had apologized, despite Feyre’s healing, Elain could not forget the moment that her sister went crazy and slammed her head into the mantle of the fireplace in Feyre’s townhouse. She couldn’t walk through the room without smelling her own blood, without seeing Lucien pleading for her to stay awake. And the roof, the roof where her garden was, it had become the place where Cassian had snapped Lucien’s leg. Elain left because her sister’s mating was negatively effecting her own. Elain left because she thought she might be more daring away from her sisters. She’d built this grand fantasy in her head around going to the Day Court and using the opportunity to be with Lucien—in every sense of the word. But Lucien, it seemed, did not want to touch her here, where he said the walls watched. He did no more than kiss her cheek before retiring to his own room every night. “Did you miss me that much?” Lucien bared his teeth in a low growl. Helion smirked, “Your mate doesn’t seem to like me.” “You’ve never given me much reason to,” Lucien answered sharply. “Lucien,” Elain warned again, softer. “Never? I hardly know you, Lucien, yet I’ve given you the best guest suite-“ “My mother has spent most my life being beaten behind closed doors,” Lucien said lowly. Helion’s smile evaporated. “I know it is punishment for something you were party to.” “Lucien-“ “You know he does it because she loved you. You know, and you’ve known from the start. And still, you do nothing. You had just gotten peace from the first War, then you were under Amarantha’s thumb. She tortured my mother, not because of me, not because of my father, but because it was the only way she knew how to hurt you, you personally, for your part in the War,” Lucien spat. Helion’s lip curled into a sneer. His eyes glowed faintly. “And my mother wasn’t worth your time or resources. She doesn’t deserve anything more than the hell she’s lived for centuries-“ “Enough,” Helion stood. Elain tried not to squeak in fright. Lucien rose just as quickly, jabbing his finger at Helion. “And you have the nerve to sit there and flirt with my mate as though anyone could want to stay with you after how you treated my mother!” “Lucien!” Elain gasped. Helion’s nostrils flared, “Been sitting on that for a while?” “Two-hundred years.” They glared at each other for a long time. Elain could not help but notice how similar their profiles were. The tone of their skin was near the same as well, though Lucien was much fairer. Even the way they were built- ‘You can’t catch me!’ A small child races away from her, hair brassy, feet tiny and pattering. She chases the child through the palace, weaving through marble pillars. She gains on the child enough to brush the soft white chiton the child wears. The child screams, running for the familiar forms of her mate and another. “Grandfather, help me!” “Elain, you shouldn’t have to run,” says Helion, lifting the child into his arms. “The little one might get upset.” Her mate kisses her lightly, touching her stomach with the other hand. “As much as I hate it when he’s right, Elain . . .” “Elain!” Lucien’s eyes were wide, very close to her. She was not sitting. She was on her back. On the floor. He was gripping her face. Relief flooded his face as she took a deep breath. He kissed her cheek and her forehead and cradled her closer. “You scared me.” “Both of us,” said Helion. He was several feet away, his hands clasped in front of him. “I don’t like to think what your sisters would do if you were hurt here.” “Shut up,” Lucien snapped. He stroked Elain’s hair gently. Elain tried to sit up, and he supported her cautiously. “Are you all right?” “I- I saw-“ “Later,” Lucien murmured, kissing her cheek again. He pressed his nose down into her neck and breathed deeply. “Would you mind leaving us alone for a little bit?” Elain asked lightly. Helion smiled and inclined his head. He left without another word. Elain pulled away from Lucien, “That was very rude.” Lucien laughed lowly. Elain twisted to see his face just as his laughter became truly hysterical. There was so much pain in his russet eye. Elain shifted so she was sitting beside him and let him rest his head on her shoulder. He laughed for a while long, then began to weep. Elain held him. —:—:—:— Lucien had planned none of it. Still, Helion did not defend his mother. There had been no regret on Helion’s face. Lucien hated Helion as much as he loved his lady mother. Watching him attempt to charm Elain was infuriating on a deeply primal level. Trying to trick her into using her gifts was despicable, as far as Lucien was concerned. Can you See yourself staying here? Lucien had never wanted to hit a male more. At least Helion hadn’t flirted with him. That would’ve unbearable on an entirely different level. The breakdown was the result of two hundred years of practicing the perfect Fuck You speech being wasted. He hadn’t said half of what he meant to. And Elain should never have had to witness that outpouring of bitter anger. Helion had been avoiding Lucien alone since they arrived, and his frustration had boiled over. “Stop,” Elain said. She’d dragged him off to a garden in the middle of Solas. The moon hung low on the horizon, and she was shivering behind him. She wove magical flowers into his hair as she carefully braided it. He could tell they were glowing. Her fingers were quick and gentle, and he tried to focus on that instead of their miserable dinner. “Stop what?” He feigned ignorance. “Stop agonizing about what happened.” “What happened when?” “Lucien.” “I’ve already completely forgotten,” he said dramatically, “You’ll have to explain.” “Lucien,” she tugged on his hair sharply. It surprised him enough to earn her a groan. She gave up chastising him to finish his braid. He could practically feel the heat of her blush. She tapped his shoulder and he passed her the leather band for it. “Stop smirking.” “I’m not,” he lied lowly. “I can hear it in your voice,” Elain complained. “I’m sat on a blanket at night with my beautiful mate in an enchanted garden and she’s embarrassed because I made a sex noise,” Lucien carefully pulled his braided hair over his shoulder. Sure enough, several of the flowers Elain had braided in were glowing silver. “What could I possibly have to smirk about?” “Lucien,” Elain grumbled. She maneuvered around to sit next to him, shivering in her chiton. The style of the Day Court suited her. He pulled her closer to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and heating the space above the blanket. She sighed softly and nuzzled closer still. “Elain,” Lucien hummed, kissing her hair. “You’ve said my name an awful lot tonight.” “Lucien,” she said again, turning her head toward his. She kissed his jaw lightly. Blood roared through him. “Lucien.” She kissed his cheek. His arm slid from her shoulder to her waist. “Lucien.” She kissed his lips. He tugged her into his lap carefully. She hummed against him and rested her hands on his chest. He cupped her face with a hand. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth. He groaned and bit her. Elain gasped, pulling away. Lucien cursed and held up a tongue of flame so he could see. “Did I hurt you?” “I- you-“ Elain’s pink face deepened her eyes. The soft brown was nearly entirely enveloped by her pupils. “You’ve never done that before.” The rasp in her voice sent blood racing faster. Lucien touched her lip gently. He hadn’t broken the skin. And judging by her voice, he hadn’t scared her. “Do you want me to do it again?” Lucien asked. Elain watched him for a moment before nodding. Her arousal was intoxicating. He smiled and she kissed him, hungrily, waiting. An idea sparked in his mind that perhaps his mate liked things the same way he did. The next time he bit her, it was on her neck, and he pulled her hair at the same time. She cried out so loudly that he had to cover her mouth with his hand. Her face turned red as he kissed her cheeks and her nose, trying not to laugh. “Maybe we should go somewhere else, Lucien,” she said when he removed his hand. Lucien just chuckled and kissed her again. “Is this why you wanted to be a mountain range apart from Nesta?” Lucien asked. Elain pouted and clambered off him. “I’m teasing, Elain. It’s good. It’s great.” “Oh,” Elain said lightly. She settled beside him again. She picked at the threads of the blanket. “I haven’t ever . . .” “Been pleasured before?” Lucien teased. Elain’s cheek went bright, and she nodded, biting her lip. Lucien tidied her hair carefully and kissed the tip of her ear. “We’ll find someplace where you can be as loud as you want. My ego really needs it.” She pinched his side. He caught her hand and interlaced their fingers. “Somewhere Nesta won’t bother us-“ “Or Feyre,” Elain blew a tuft of hair out of her face. Lucien lifted an eyebrow. “She always says things and I . . .” “I‘ll tell her to close her fat mouth,” Lucien said. Elain gasped as he knew she would, and he smiled and kissed her lightly. “Would you rather I tell her to use it for something else?” “Lucien!” Elain pinched him with her other hand. Lucien laughed. “You’re just as bad!” “Oh?” Lucien lowered his voice and leaned into her ear. “And what should I use my mouth for?” “You are absolutely incorrigible,” Elain whispered. Lucien noted the flash of her teeth before she ducked her head. “You like it,” Lucien said bravely. Elain lifted her head, carefully not smiling. Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t you?” “With these things, I’m only stumbling around in the dark,” Elain said softly. “And you’re . . . Something to follow.” “You’ve scandalized me before,” Lucien reminded her. “I didn’t think that possible,” Elain hummed. “You told me once that you bathed naked.” “Everyone does that!” “Yes,” Lucien chuckled. “But most people don’t plant the image of themselves wet and naked and-“ “Well, I was trying to seduce you,” Elain pouted. “It didn’t even work.” “You don’t need to seduce me, Elain,” Lucien breathed, kissing her. “I’m all yours.” —:—:—:— “No. . . . Elain isn’t awake yet, this can wait. . . . We are Night Courtiers, remember.” Elain lifted her head from the pillows enough to see that Lucien was no longer beside her. He had kissed her and held her through the night. She’d fallen asleep in the garden and half-woke in her bed. She knew she’d pleaded with him to stay, to touch her. He promised to stay, but he would only touch her when she was fully awake. Elain fell asleep before she could argue the point. There were voices from the next room over. Elain found her dressing gown and padded out, wrapping her arms around herself against the morning chill. The bedroom door had been left cracked open, and she pushed through it carefully. Lucien was talking with Helion. His hair was braided from the night before, though the flowers were gone. His arms were crossed over his chest. He looked none too pleased. She went over and rested her chin on his shoulder, kissing just below his ear. “Good morning, Lady Elain.” She smiled for Helion and breathed in her mate’s scent. “I came to apologize for dinner last night. Are you feeling better?” “You came to apologize but you haven’t,” Elain sighed. Lucien relaxed as she wrapped her arms around his middle. “It’s cold here.” The room instantly warmed. Elain smiled and closed her eyes. “Come back to bed.” “Just a minute, Elain,” Lucien touched her hands. His voice hardened. “Your apology means little to me.” “I cannot simply walk into Autumn,” said Helion. “Come now,” Lucien said. “With what happened between Rhysand and Tamlin-“ “Beron is not Tamlin. Your mother did not want to leave her children, Lucien, because she loves you. I would have happily taken you in, but Beron would have seen it as a threat-“ “Eris is going to take Beron’s head off by the end of the year,” Elain yawned. She slumped further into Lucien. “You’re so warm.” “Pretend you didn’t hear that,” Lucien said hastily. “We’ll join you for lunch, but as you can tell my mate is . . .” “Trying to get you back into bed,” Elain murmured. “You promised.” Lucien cleared his throat. “Enjoy your morning in,” Helion said slyly. His footsteps receded and a door opened and shut. Elain supposed he had gone. “Did you really See that?” Lucien whispered. “Months ago,” Elain nodded into his shoulder. “It shifts, but something happened a few weeks ago that made it solid.” Her visions were that way sometimes. The closer they got to coming true, the more real they seemed. Other times they were just shifting images in a fog, thoughts or words or people she couldn’t recognize. It got muddled often. Then, in all the confusion, there would be a bolt of clarity, something that would without doubt come to pass. Like that little Illyrian nephew of hers, or the child with the brassy hair. Those were certainties, even if they slid along time injudiciously. “Do you really want me to take you to bed?” Lucien murmured after a time. Elain wondered how long they had been standing there, both lost in thought. Something told her it had been long enough for Lucien to pack away what she’d said into different versions for the members of the Inner Circle. Something for Azriel, who wanted Eris dead; something for Cassian, who knew the opportunity presented to them; the truth for her sister and brother-by-law. Elain opened her eyes. Lucien was doing his best to look at her without turning and disturbing her. Elain raised a hand and gripped his hair. “Lucien.” “Yes, Elain?” “I’m all yours.” The first time was sweet and gentle. Lucien coaxed her to climax twice before carefully pushing inside her, rocking into her and kissing her and touching her. She did not bleed, nor did it hurt. It surprised her. When she whispered her fears to Lucien, he kissed her cheeks and told her those were the concerns of women fucked by human men who were inexperienced idiots or plain cruel. The next time he asked her to turn onto her stomach. He kissed her shoulder and pushed into her from behind. Then he went faster, he pulled her hair, he slammed against her. Elain liked that just as much. Lucien was panting and grinning wickedly by the time they were both spent. “I want to make you breakfast,” Elain hummed, drawing circles on his bare chest with her fingers. He stiffened, and she looked up to hold his gaze. Feyre had mentioned what food meant between mates. She kissed Lucien’s shoulder as he opened his mouth, “I know what it means, yes.” “Elain,” Lucien touched her chin, lifting her head to kiss her. “Are you sure?” “Why shouldn’t I be?” Elain murmured. “I’m the one who can See. I know.” “You know what?” Lucien breathed. “I know that our own children are fairer than our nephews,” Elain kissed him before her words could register. “I know that you never stray from me. I know that you teach me what love means, and that I never grow tired of your touch.” “Hang- Hang on,” Lucien frowned. “Our-“ “I know,” Elain said simply. He kissed her again, rolled over top of her carefully. Elain smiled against him. He leaned his forehead against hers and let his hand drift over her. “And what I don’t know, you’ll teach me.” “Damn right,” Lucien growled. —:—:—:— Rhys and Azriel looked less pleased than usual when Elain and Lucien emerged from Helion’s palace. The High Lord of Day was standing beside them with his arms crossed. Lucien nearly cursed aloud, but Elain was laughing and holding his arm and pulling him along before he could dwell on the older Faes’ expressions. She released him and greeted both Rhysand and Azriel with a kiss on the cheek. She bowed slightly to Helion and reached back for Lucien. He took her hand and she hummed slightly. “You look well,” Azriel said quietly. Rhys’s nose twitched. “Thank you,” Elain answered brightly. Lucien knew that she was perfectly aware of the tension in the air, and chose to ignore it. She looked back at him and smiled. He couldn’t help but return it. She glowed for her happiness. Lucien stepped closer and kissed her forehead. “Go home with Az,” he murmured. “I’m about to be chewed out.” “It’s probably best I talk Nesta down when she smells you on me,” Elain whispered. She kissed him before he could smile. Rhys cleared his throat. Elain stepped back and addressed him. “My sister was right about you.” She took Azriel’s arm and the Shadowsinger took her away before Rhys’s jaw could drop. Lucien laughed. She was so very excellent at keeping the last word. He blamed her Seer abilities. “Before either of you start,” Lucien held up a hand. “I don’t care.” “You’ll care when I send you to the Illyrian Camps without Cassian,” Rhys growled. Lucien spread his hands, “I was raised by Beron. You’re lucky I can claim what little manners I have.” “Lucien,” Rhysand snarled. Helion’s mouth tightened. Lucien met his gaze and felt fire spring to life in his blood. Helion’s brow dropped. Lucien felt his power searching, tried to fend it off with some of his own. Something happened that had never happened to Lucien before. Instead of fending off Helion’s attack, Lucien’s power intwined with the High Lord’s. Surprised flickered in both males’ eyes and they hauled back their power at the same time. Lucien’s heart pounded loud enough for them to hear it on the continent. His muscles tensed as he clenched his jaw. Helion kept his face carefully neutral. “Let’s go,” Lucien said, moving closer to Rhysand. “We’re not done-“ “Let him be a petulant child,” Helion waved a hand and stalked inside. “It’s not my problem.” Lucien heard the doubt. Rhysand glared at him for a moment before gripping his shoulder and winnowing them home. They landed on the roof where Cassian had broken Lucien’s leg. Lucien fell into one of the iron wrought chairs, holding his head in his hands. Rhysand started to head inside. “Is that why you sent me?” Rhysand was not fool enough to fein innocence. “Partially.” Lucien cursed violently. “Will you ever stop meddling in everyone else’s lives?” “That’s not-“ “I guess you wouldn’t,” Lucien looked over his shoulder. “Too much fun to watch everyone fall apart and have them owe you for piecing them back together.” Rhysand’s jaw ticked. Lucien raised his eyebrows. Cassian thundered up the stairs and burst onto the roof. “You’re back.” “You’re standing again,” Lucien said tersely. Cassian looked between him and his High Lord. Lucien raised his eyebrows. “Where is Elain?” “Asking where you are.” “I asked where she is, not what she’s doing,” Lucien snapped. “Oh-kay, the trip to Day did not go well I see,” Cassian held up his hands. “I’ll go find-“ “You filthy-“ Cassian caught his mate as she flew out of the house, her claws reaching for Lucien. He could’ve sworn he felt them rake down his face. Nesta hissed and thrashed like a wild beast. “Nesta!” Feyre shouted from down the steps. “Never a dull moment,” Rhysand quipped, heading inside. Lucien followed carefully, wary of the way Nesta had stilled against Cassian. He held her hands against her chest. She hissed again as he passed. Lucien stuck out his tongue. He wasn’t sure why. Not to antagonize her, surely, but to prove he would not take her abuse lying down. He could’ve mentioned the way Elain moaned for him, the way she begged for him. He could’ve said nothing. The half-rude, half-childish gesture was a sort of middle ground. He took the stairs faster than Rhysand, who paused to greet his own mate. “He’s more scared of your sister than of me.” “Only one of you stole from the Cauldron,” Lucien called over his shoulder. A bit of Feyre’s ice nipped at his fingers. He banished it with matching flames. To her, and Rhysand, he rudely gestured. Elain was at the bottom of the stairs, her hands on her hips, pouting. He stopped one step from the floor, blinking innocently at her, tucking his hands behind his back. She looked up at him through her lashes. He dropped that last step and kissed her. One day, she would be his High Lady. The look in her eyes confirmed it. “It gets better,” she promised, touching his cheek. “What does?” “Everything.”

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: The Assassin’s Blade, Ch 19-20

SJM either cuts one measly scene into three chapters or crams 100+ long scenes into on chapter so this one is gonna be super fucking long

Celaena dressed in the nicest tunic she’d brought—which wasn’t really anything to admire, but the midnight blue and gold did bring out the turquoise hues in her eyes.

SJM gotta stop bringing attention to Celery’s Mary Sue eyes because I laugh every time I think about them.

Ansel takes Celery to dinner.

Staying alert as they entered the hall was an effort of will. Yet even with her exhaustion, she instinctively scanned the room. There were three exits—the giant doors through which they entered, and two servants’ doors on either end. The hall was packed wall-to-wall with long wooden tables and benches full of people. At least seventy of them in total. None of them looked at Celaena as Ansel ambled toward a table near the front of the room. If they knew who she was, they certainly didn’t care. She tried not to scowl.

This paragraph right here. This sums up everything wrong with this book.

At first while I was reading this, I was like “Yes finally!! Celery is acting like an assassin! It took us two short stories to get here, but we finally did!” And then SJM immediately ruins it by having Celery cry and wail about nobody giving her special attention.

Boo fucking hoo! You’re an assassin, you’re not supposed to stand out, you fucking spoiled asshole!! This character is utter garbage and I hate her so much, this is actually making me enjoy the ending of E0S where she gets the shit kicked out of her and shoved into an iron coffin. Fuck her. Fuck this book.

Ansel mentions some Lord Berick guy, who Celery has never heard of before.

“He’s the villain,” said a curly-haired, dark-eyed man across from Ansel. He was handsome in a way, but had a smile far too much like Captain Rolfe’s for Celaena’s liking. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-five.

Nuance who?

Ansel blathers on about Lord Berick and how he’s the most Evil Guy Ever who wants this part of the desert or some shit. No doubt Celery will beat him in one paragraph if they meet, so who really cares.

Outside of the markets in Rifthold (...) she’d never seen such a mix of different kingdoms and continents. And though most of the people here were trained killers, there was an air of peace and contentment—of joy, even.

This place is way tf better than Arobynn’s shitty assassin joint. Please let us stay here?

Vows of silence, Ansel had explained earlier, were taken for as long as each person saw fit. Some spent weeks in silence; others, years. Ansel claimed she’d once sworn to be silent for a month, and had only lasted two days before she gave up. She liked talking too much. Celaena didn’t have any trouble believing that.

That is quite fucking rich coming from you, Celery.

Celaena felt someone’s attention on her, and tried not to blink when she noticed a dark-haired, handsome young man watching her from a few seats down. Stealing glances at her was more like it, since his sea-green eyes kept darting to her face, then back to his companions.

oh no

Their eyes met, and his tan face spread into a smile, revealing dazzlingly white teeth. Well, he was certainly desirable—as desirable as Sam, maybe.

oh god no why this

SJM has basically skipped out on love triangles (Dorito never had a chance in T0G and Tamlin never had a chance in AC0TAR, and you all know it) but nope, she just had to hit all of the shitty YA tropes. Fucking great. Poor Ilias is probably gonna be put down so Celery can realize Sammy is her one true love.

“I’m surprised you caught Ilias’s eye,” Ansel teased, keeping her voice low enough for only Celaena and Mikhail to hear. “He’s usually too focused on his training and meditating to notice anyone—even pretty girls.” (...) “I’ve known him for years, and he’s never been anything but aloof with me,” Ansel continued. “But maybe he has a thing for blondes.” Mikhail snorted.

Holy shit, is this... self awareness? I mean, both the protagonists of SJM’s big ticket series are skinny blonde white girls who have men drooling left and right for them. I bet that new Creamcheese City novel will also feature a blonde “””strong female character””” as the lead.

Celaena pushed around the food on her plate. It wasn’t that she wasn’t romantic. She’d been infatuated with a few men before—from Archer, the young male courtesan who’d trained with them for a few months when she was thirteen, to Ben, Arobynn’s now-deceased Second, back when she was too young to really understand the impossibility of such a thing.

Dude he’s like a fucking adult and she’s barely 16. Get this nasty shit outta my face. So Celery rescued Ben’s body not because he was a good guy, but because she used to have the hots for him?? This is actually gross.

Mikhail asks why Celery’s master beat the shit out of her, and she kisses her own ass for a moment or two while telling the story of freeing the slaves.

“But if the two hundred slaves that I freed are telling the story, then no, I suppose I didn’t deserve it.” None of them were smiling anymore. “Holy gods,” Ansel whispered. True silence fell over their table for a few heartbeats.

HFAKHDKAHDKAHDS I AM GOING TO LOSE MY SHIT

STOP!! MAKING!! EVERYONE!! SPLOOGE!! OVER!! CELERY!! IM SICK OF READING IT GET IT OUT OF MY FACE

The next day (I think?), Ansel takes Celery out to do some running and Celery is pissy that she isn’t immediately getting special attention from the Mute Master. Good to see Celery will never change in her selfish, whiny ways.

Celery fucking sucks at the run to the oasis and everyone continues to lap her.

A small oasis, mostly a ring of trees and a giant pool fed by a shimmering stream, was barely an eighth of a mile away. She was Adarlan’s Assassin—at least she’d made it here.

Stop reminding me she’s Adaran’s Assassin, I fucking know. Remember how I said at the beginning that Celery doesn’t splooge over herself as much as Alien does? Yeah I take it back, Celery is even more obnoxious.

Later on Ansel tries to stroke Celery’s fragile precious little ego by saying she did worse on her first run.

“My first run, I collapsed. Mile two. Completely unconscious. Ilias found me on his way back and carried me here. In his arms and everything.” Ilias’s eyes met with Celaena’s, and he smiled at her. “If I hadn’t been about to die, I would have been swooning,”

No Ilias/Ansel/Celery love triangle, please.

Celaena blushed, suddenly too aware of Ilias’s attention, and took a sip from her cup of lemon water. As the meal wore on, her blush remained as Ilias continued flicking his eyes toward her. She tried not to preen too much. But then she remembered how miserably she’d performed today— how she hadn’t even gotten a chance to train—and the swagger died a bit.

Celaena made her best attempt to look casual as she, too, stood and bid everyone good night. As she turned away, she noticed that Mikhail took Ansel’s hand and held it in the shadows beneath the table.

Apparently Ansel and Mikhail are a thing? I literally don’t care. Mikhail has said like what, five words this entire story? They’re literally just together because SJM can’t stand the idea of having any single characters (unless they’re evil).

Celery chases down The Master to demand her special snowflake treatment.

The Master paused, his white clothes rustling around him. He offered her a little smile. Up close, she could certainly see his resemblance to his son. There was a pale line around one of his fingers— perhaps where a wedding ring had once been. Who was Ilias’s mother? Of course, it wasn’t at all the time for questions like that.

Yeah, no shit Celery. Why are you such an idiot?

The Mute Master is like “wait your turn” and leaves. Ilias shows up for shipping fuel I guess?

“I have no plans to hurt him,” she said softly. But Ilias gave her a half smile, his brows rising as if to ask if she could blame him for being protective of his father.

Maybe I’m a softie, but this endeared me to him somewhat. He seems like a nice guy, which is more than what you get with 95% if SJM’s male characters. How come all of Celery’s love interests Rowboat who are waaay better characters than her?

His eyes were vivid in the torchlight, his hand firm and warm around hers. She let go of his fingers. The son of the Mute Master and the protégée of the King of the Assassins. If there was anyone here who was at all similar to her, she realized, it was Ilias. Rifthold might be her realm, but this was his.

Human brain: don’t get attached, Celery is an asshole

Monkey brain: hhhhhh parallels between partners in a ship...love....

Not that Ilias and Celery are/will be a thing, but you know. I’m a sucker for shit like this.

Ilias suddenly began making a series of motions with his long, tan fingers, but Celaena laughed softly. “I have no idea what you’re trying to say.” Ilias looked skyward and sighed through his nose. Throwing his hands in the air in mock defeat, he merely patted her on the shoulder before passing by

Ilias is a good, pure boy. I’d read a story where Sammy goes to the desert instead of Celery and him and Ilias fall in love and hold hands under the shade of the desert night. Hngh, I really wish I could be reading that fanfic instead of this novel.

As she walked back to her room, Celaena had a horrible feeling that here, being Adarlan’s Assassin might not count for much.

Celery says this like we’re supposed to feel sorry for her, but back in Arobynn;s Assassin joint she flaunts her title around and rubs it in everyone’s face so yeah, you don’t get sympathy from me.

“How long have you been seeing him?” Ansel was silent for a long moment before answering. “Since I was fifteen.” Fifteen! Mikhail was in his midtwenties, so even if this had started almost three years ago, he still would have been far older than Ansel. It made her a little queasy.

Oh. My. God.

See, I personally don’t like huge age gapes in ships (that’s just my personal preference, don’t fucking @ me) but Celery you literally said earlier you were in love with Ben, a fucking grown man, when you were a young teenager you fucking hypocrite!!!!!!!! God I fucking hate Celery!!!!!!!

With nothing else to distract her, Celaena eventually returned to thinking about Sam. Even weeks later, she had no idea how she’d somehow gotten attached to him, what he’d been shouting when Arobynn beat her, and why Arobynn had thought he’d need three seasoned assassins to restrain him that day.

Pretty simple answers. You got attached to Sammy because a) SJM wanted you to so she forced you to start thirsting for him, and b) you realized “oh hey Sammy is a good guy maybe I shouldn’t imagine myself slitting his throat”. What Sammy was shouting will be revealed later to my knowledge, and as for the 3 assassins thing... idk, tbh. I mean, Sammy is just a teenager boy, one big buff assassin should be enough to restrain him.

This chapter finally ends thank fucking god. We still have one more to go for today.

[Celaena] did run farther the next day. And the day after that, and the one following that. But it still took her so long to get back that she didn’t have time to seek out the Master. Not that she could. He’d send for her. Like a lackey.

Stop trying to make me feel bad for Celery being ignored if she’s just gonna splooge about how ~special and uhmayzing~ she is.

Like the assassins in Adarlan, the Silent Assassins weren’t known for any skill in particular—save the uncannily quiet way they moved.

That seems kinda odd. Assassins should be talented at many ways of disposing of people yeah, but wouldn’t it make more sense for some of them to have a knack for a certain type of killing, such as using poisons?

Still, even as [the assassins] corrected her posture and showed her new ways to control her breathing, she tried her best not to snarl at them. She knew plenty—she wasn’t Adarlan’s Assassin for nothing.

If I have to read that fucking sentence one more time I am ripping this book in half. No joke, I am a hair’s length away from not finishing this fucking book. Even E0S never got me to want to throw  the towel in completely and quit like this.

Perhaps if she demonstrated that she was skilled enough in these practices, the Master might take notice of her. She’d get that letter. Even if she had to hold a dagger to his throat while he wrote it.

Wow, asshole! You have to put in the tiniest amount of effort to learn and talk to people and you’re already resorting to violence??? You really are a weak and stupid protagonist and I hate you with every fiber of my being.

The attack by Lord Berick happened on her fifth night.

This made me sit up in my seat, to be honest. We finally get.... plot? Promises of action? Assassins versus assassins? Holy shit, I’m hype!

Apparently the attack happens oh so conveniently when the Mute Master and a bunch of assassins are away on a mission. Celery acknowledges this as extremely convenient, which leads me to believe there may be a rat in the assassin fortress. If not, then this is laughably stupid and convenient.

“We’re not going to kill [the soldiers]?” Celaena whispered back. (...) Ansel shook her head, watching Ilias down the line. “No, though I wish we could.” Celaena didn’t particularly care for the casual way she said it

Why would that fucking bother you?? Don’t act all high and mighty asshole, you’re an assassin the same as her. You both kill people for a living. Jesus fucking christ.

They all fire some burning arrows at an oil ridge in the sand or something which scares off Lord Berick’s goons. The scene ends.

I’m not even joking, this entire scene takes up a page and a tiny paragraph of another. I... I’m fucking speechless. You promise us an action scene and you give us this shitty, glossed over pile of garbage that serves no point? No named characters were even injured!!!!!! Holy fucking shit, SJM, you are a terrible terrible terrible writer! Please fucking stop, I can’t handle any more of these dumpster fires of novels.

The next day Mikail tells Ansel she has orders to go to Xandria, and she invites Celery to go along with, I assume Xandria is a place.....? This chapter ends. I am going to drown myself in chocolate chip cookies to heal.

[evenifyoudontfic]

Even If You Don’t: Chapter 31

Previous chapter

im literally the worst at updating this thing im so sorry

Mari's POV; Four days later

London

"Ash, I'm not moving here permanently," Calum said into his phone as he walked out of my bedroom.

We had been back in London for a couple hours now, only just arriving back at my apartment when Calum's phone started ringing. He had obviously told the band he was staying with me for the next six months before we left Indianapolis, and Ashton apparently had a few choice things to say about the last-minute planning of it all but was only able to get ahold of his bandmate after we got home.

"I told you why already, Ashton-" I could just tell Calum was rolling his eyes, making me laugh softly. "-I'm staying with Mar until the iHeart Awards. ... I'm not asking you to send me all of my belongings. ... I'll be back for a couple weeks during Christmas anyway; I just need you to send some clothes, my guitar, and my journals! ... Well, then you can yell at me then. ..." He sighed sharply, "Yes, Ashton, I will pay you back for shipping. ... Are you gonna send my stuff or not? ... Thank you. ... Yeah, I'll talk to you guys later. ... Bye." He sighed again, a little more softly this time, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and coming into the kitchen where I was.

"Is Ash mothering you again?" I snickered, making him frown.

"I didn't realize I was moving out of my parent's house just to move in with another mum," he grumbled, cracking a smile when I giggled again. I walked over to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"He cares about you, Cal," I reminded him while his own arms wrapped around my waist.

"I know," he sighed again, kissing my forehead, "He can just be a bit much sometimes."

"Kinda like you when I caught that cold on tour?" I grinned.

"That's different," he pouted, "You were sick; I didn't want it to get worse."

"You were still mothering me, Cal," I giggled.

"Fine," he rolled his eyes, "But at least it wasn't as bad as when Kenz lost her voice."

"Jesus," I laughed again, "I thought Ash was actually going to burn the place down."

"Pretty sure he would've if it hadn't been for the fact that it was in Sydney and his mum was there to calm him down."

"God bless Anne," I sighed, only to let out a sharp shriek when I felt Calum's fingers start poking at my sides.

"C-C-Cal! Stop!" I begged through my involuntary laughter.

"Ah, what's the magic word?" he shook his head. I huffed lightly, not wanting to admit defeat but knowing I had to – he was a lot stronger than me and I wouldn't be able to fight him off.

I quickly moved my arms from around his neck and let my hands slide to his cheeks, pulling his face to mine. I felt him smile as he kissed me, finally stopping the tickling. When I pulled away, I watched his eyes flutter open and he looked at me with a fond expression.

"I love you," Calum told me, and I couldn't keep the grin off my own face.

"Pretty sure you've said that a hundred times since you woke up this morning," I commented.

"Have to make up for all the times I was too afraid to say it," he replied, only making my smile get bigger.

"I love you too," I said softly, earning myself another bright grin as he kissed me again.

~

Calum's POV; The next morning

"Cal, you'll be fine," Mari assured me with a roll of her eyes as we walked side-by-side down the long hallway to the room the rest of Lost and Found was waiting in.

Mari had gotten a text from Kenzie that they were going into the studio to write some new songs. She asked me if I wanted to tag along – and I did, but I was still a bit nervous about it. Mari's bandmates and I hadn't seen or spoken to each other since I randomly showed up that day I was looking for Mari, and I had a sinking feeling that it wasn't going to go well this time either despite the fact that Mari had forgiven me for what I did.

"I don't know..." I mumbled, "They were really mad..."

"Are you cheating on me with one of them?" she asked calmly, taking me by surprise.

"W-What?" I shook my head in disbelief – where did that even come from?

"Are you in a relationship with any of them?"

"Of course not!" I exclaimed softly, "Why would you thi-"

"Then why are you so worried?" she shook her own head and I felt her hand squeeze mine, "Why are you so worried what they think?"

"Because they're your best friends," I grumbled, "I don't want them to hate me... If you had to pick between me and them, I know you'd pick them..."

"But I don't have to pick, Cal," she smiled gently, "So please stop being nervous."

"Okay," I exhaled sharply, "You're right; I can do this." I heard a soft giggle beside me, letting my body relax as Mari tugged me into the room.

"Hey, guys!" she beamed, making her friends look up.

"Mari!" they cheered in unison, "We've missed you!" She let go of my hand to hug her bandmates while I just stood in the doorway.

"Calum," Kaylynn nodded, but her voice was monotone.

"Kay," Mari warned with a slight smile on her face, "You promised."

"I'm being nice!" she defended.

"Yeah," Kenzie agreed before looking over at me, "Just gonna take a while to get used to having you around again." I swallowed lightly but nodded in agreement – I can't imagine how they must have felt having to watch Mari go through the break up, only to have the person who did it to her back in her life.

"So," Mari chirped, coming back over to me as she spoke to the girls, "What are we thinking about writing today?" She took my hand and pulled me over to the couch, making me sit down before taking her own seat on my lap. I looked at her with a small grin, barely noticing the other girls watching out of the corner of my eye.

"We're not sure yet," Vanessa sighed, "Geoff said we need at least one new song before iHeart, but we haven't been able to come up with anything."

"Well, we have ideas of what we'd like to do," Kenzie interjected, "We just don't know which would be better for the show."

"How about we don't focus on iHeart right now?" Mari suggested.

"But we have to get something written for it," she shook her head.

"I know," she nodded, "But it's a lot harder to write a song when you're stressing yourself out over it." I let out a breath of agreement, making Mari glance at me since she was the only one close enough to hear it.

"You mean write a practice song?" Kaylynn asked curiously.

"Something like that," she shrugged, "And if we like it enough, we can release it later."

"So what are you thinking then?"

"Well... Older people are always complaining that 'songs these days have no meaning' and 'the lyrics are just a bunch of gibberish'," Mari shook her head, a smile beginning to form on her face, "So let's just give them what they expect to hear."

"You mean like, Blank Space style?" Kenzie grinned.

"Crazier," she perked up, "Let's make ourselves into the psycho bitches people seem to think we are!"

"I could get into this," Kaylynn snickered.

"I'm definitely in," Vanessa giggled.

~

Two hours later

"Okay," Kenzie plopped back down in her seat, a guitar now on her lap, "Are we ready to put it all together?"

"Hope it sounds good," Vanessa said as she finished tuning her own guitar.

"I hope it feels good!" Mari announced. I couldn't help but groan involuntarily as I was looking at my phone, earning a chorus of laughs.

"If you think the 5SOS references are bad when you're here, you should see her when you're not," Kenzie mentioned, making me look at them.

"You all know not to say 'sounds good' around me!" my girlfriend frowned, "It's a reflex that haunts me every day; I wish I could control it, but I can't!"

"Now you're just being dramatic," I snorted softly.

"You haven't seen dramatic yet, Calum," Vanessa shook her head with a smile. Mari simply rolled her eyes and began playing the song, making the girls laugh again as she was silently telling them the conversation was over.

[Kenzie]

I screen saved all the photos from your family vacations I checked out all your Spotify recommendations I followed you on Twitter and Instagram too Is there anywhere else I can find you?

[Vanessa, Kaylynn]

Every 15 minutes, I'm refreshing your page Refreshing your page, refreshing your page Every 15 minutes, I'm refreshing your page Refreshing your page, refreshing your page

[Kenzie, Vanessa, Kaylynn]

It was love at first sight, except you tried to ignore me You were playing hard to get Now I wanna be your girlfriend, but you can't ignore me 'Cause I found you on the internet

Now I always know who you're with, where you are, and what you're doing I just wish it was me that you were pursuing And the funny thing is, you haven't got a clue That I've got a crush on you

[Kaylynn]

I get notified you've posted on Facebook Sure enough, there's a new photo on your wall Within a few minutes, I see some blonde chick liked it I bet that she's your late night booty call

[Vanessa]

You send out a tweet that today was a great day But how it could be without me there? I bet it's 'cause you're sleeping with that blonde chick on Facebook The one with the bleached, peroxide hair

[Kenzie, Kaylynn]

Every 15 minutes, I'm refreshing your page Refreshing your page, refreshing your page Every 15 minutes, I'm refreshing your page Refreshing your page, refreshing your page

[Kenzie, Vanessa, Kaylynn]

It was love at first sight, except you tried to ignore me Tried to ignore me, tried to ignore me So I found you online and now you can't ignore me You can't ignore me, you can't ignore me

Now I always know who you're with, where you are, and what you're doing I just wish it was me that you were pursuing And the funny thing is, you haven't got a clue That I've got a crush on you

I watched Mari quickly pull out her phone and toss it to me. I caught it and unlocked it, already knowing what she wanted me to do. I opened her camera and started recording her just before she started singing her part of the song.

[Mari]

You'll never know the pain I feel as I watch you from afar I can't deny that my love is real I even know who your friends of friends of friends are

I never knew how love could hurt until I put you on my Google alert Every post, every tweet; It's so hard to see that it's not about me Not about me

[Kenzie, Vanessa, Kaylynn]

It was love at first sight, except you tried to ignore me Tried to ignore me, tried to ignore me So I found you online and now you can't ignore me You can't ignore me, you can't ignore me

Now, I always know who you're with, where you are, and what you're doing I just wish it was me that you were pursuing And the funny thing is, you haven't got a clue That I've got a crush on you

[Mari]

Oh crap, you just blocked me from viewing your Facebook Crap, you just blocked me from your Twitter too You sent me an email to leave you alone

Well, guess what... I still like you

The song ended and the girls immediately busted out laughing.

"That was so good!" Kenzie cheered, "We're definitely recording and releasing it for real!"

"I say we get some secondary opinions though," Mari snickered, coming back to me.

I handed her phone back to her as she plopped down beside me. I glanced at her screen, watching her open her messages and compose a new one. She sent the video in a group text to Ashton, Michael, and Luke, along with a message: Part of the new song we're working on so far!!! What do you guys think?

"They are gonna be so confused," I couldn't help but chuckle.

this ending suuuuuucks but what else is neeeeeeeeew

song used: "Crush" by Taryn Southern

and if u don't know what "Blank Space style" means: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-ORhEE9VVg

Next chapter

[toutorii]

Various Honoka HCS

Cause Im self indulgent 😌

⁃ So when Noka was a baby, neither her dad, Shirou or Daiki knew what the hell to do with her wings.

⁃ Her first word was "Daiai" which was exposed to be "Daiki"

⁃ Daiki would call Noka "baby bird" and mo one will tell me otherwise

⁃ He also called Shirou "buddy"

⁃ She would fly around and their dad would make Shirou chase her down. Cause by this point, Daiki had already “joined” AfO.

⁃ When Shirou and Noka were taken in by their uncle, he just slept and let her do whatever.

⁃ Their uncle, also known as Eraserhead, was a very kind guardian

⁃ He went to each of Shirou's ballet concerts, and did Noka's hair for picture day

⁃ If you looked through his search history it would be filled with "how to do a braid for beginners"

⁃ Aizawa bought Noka various art supplies and bought Shirou new shoes whenever they needed them

⁃ He also worried for his nephew, who went missing right before Noka and Shirou ended up in his custody

⁃ Didnt want Noka or Shirou to become heroes

⁃ Cause he didnt want to see the two children he practically raised to be hurt

⁃ But because of their ties to All for One, the government forced both of them to become heros to "prove" that they had severed their bonds with All for One

⁃ Shirou's dream was to become a professional dancer and Noka's was to become a professional artist

⁃ And Aizawa was not happy that the two lights in his life were torn from their dreams

⁃ And so Shirou got accepted into the hero program, in class 1-A

⁃ He chose the hero name Shifter

⁃ Cause he could shift into any organic form

⁃ When he got 3rd place at the sports festival, Noka ran around her uncle's apartment screaming with joy

⁃ Noka is literally his biggest fan

⁃ Noka's first friend was a small purple haired boy name Hitoshi Shinsou

⁃ So naturally, she called him Toshi

⁃ And she refused to call him anything else all throughout middle and high school

⁃ Shinsou and Noka have sleepovers all the time and you can't tell me otherwise

⁃ When people would tell Shinsou that his quirk was villainous, Noka would always speak up cause she knew Shinsou wouldnt contradict them

⁃ Noka is always like that

⁃ Speaking up for others and herself. And her smart mouth tends to get her in trouble

⁃ Shinsou would fuss over Noka's wings. Like if they were dirty or a few feathers were out of place, Shinsou would sit her down and fix her wings.

⁃ "Toshi, your inner mom is showing"

⁃ "Its not my fault you cant take proper care of your wings"

⁃ When she told Shinsou about her acceptance into U.A's med course, he couldn't have been prouder

⁃ Noka is actually the one who encouraged Shinsou to train with her uncle.

⁃ But before that lets talk about Noka's time at U.A. so far

⁃ She was first introduced to class 1-A during the first combat training

⁃ Healed everyone who got very minor injuries

⁃ At the USJ attack, Shigiraki deteriorated part of Noka's hip. But her extremely enhanced natural healing abilities stopped the deterioration

⁃ So she has this big ass scar on the back side of her left hip

⁃ She wanted to absolutely murder Shigiraki for letting the Nomu loose on her uncle

⁃ But she doesnt have any damaging fire power

⁃ So she just tried to heal her uncle's wounds the best she could

⁃ Nearly gets herself killed many times with her smart assery

⁃ And gives everyone around her a heart attack in the process

⁃ During the sports festival, she helped RG heal all the students

⁃ Reprimanded Deku for overusing OfA

⁃ Oh yeah, she learned about AfO and OfA from her time with All for One (A/N: please dont kill me im trying to not make her too op 😭😭)

⁃ Is kind of like to Deku like Recovery Girl is to All Might

⁃ So fast foward to the internships

⁃ She interns with another oc of mine, Snow

⁃ Who is a healer but with incredible attack powers

⁃ Coincidentally, Noka was patrolling Hosu when the nomus hit

⁃ She recieved Deku's distress signal and ran to the scene

⁃ She didnt attack the hero killer, but ran to help Native and made sure he didnt bleed out

⁃ The hero killer didnt bat a single eye at her, deeming her not a threat

⁃ In the end, she didnt harm Stain so her hero guardian? didnt have to take any blame for her actions

⁃ Noka however did get nearly ripped in half by a nomu, so she had to stay in the hospital with Todo and Deku

⁃ So— Summer training arc

⁃ She just looked at her class and said "fuck this" and flew over the whole forest

⁃ She actually beat the wild wild pussycats back to the camp

⁃ She got to know Kota, telling him how she never wanted to become a hero

⁃ Kota may or may not have developed a kiddie crush on her 😳

⁃ But anyways, when everyone else saw her all nice and refreshed, needless to say they were upset

⁃ Some more than others

⁃ *remembers Bakugou nearly blowing off Noka's face because she cheated*

⁃ Aizawa just smirking at his niece cause shes so much like her mother

⁃ "DAMMIT TAKAHASHI. YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE YOU CHEATER"

⁃ "They said to use our quirks. Its not my fault your quirk is too grounded"

⁃ "WHAT— YOU WANNA FIGHT—"

⁃ "No I wanna eat, goodbye—"

⁃ Focuses on her attack and the healing capabilities of her quirk

⁃ Let me set the scene

⁃ At the beginning of UA, our Noka could barely heal up a small cut

⁃ But now, she can close up major wound with little to no effort

⁃ P r o g r e s s people

⁃ N e ways

⁃ So when they do the haunted quirk thingy

⁃ Hairi and Noka are paired up, to their delight

⁃ But they aren't able to go into the forest before the attack happens

⁃ Apparently, the league came for Bakugou and Noka

⁃ Cause the "master" wanted his first nomu to return to him

⁃ But all Deku knew was "they are after Kacchan and the master's first Nomu"

⁃ Nobody knew who the first nomu was except for Noka

⁃ See, AfO took and gave Noka various quirks, eventually ending up with her current quirk(s)

⁃ He did this to Shirou and Daiki as well

⁃ But Shirou's body wasnt able to handle as many quirks, so AfO discarded him

⁃ Daiki was not aware that Noka was a target, Shigiraki knew he would object and purposely left him out of the loop

⁃ Eventually, Noka is cornered by Dabi

⁃ His fire power vastly out matches hers

⁃ But she puts up one hell of a fight

⁃ And Kurogiri took her before she woke up and fought back even more

⁃ So everyone was panicking when they couldnt find Noka

⁃ Aizawa was panicking them most

⁃ His precious niece was missing, no, taken by the league

⁃ The students had never seen their teacher so frazzled

⁃ The thing that broke Aizawa more was the look on Shirou's face when he told him that his baby sister was missing

⁃ His precious baby sister

⁃ His whole world

⁃ Shirou didnt go out of his room for days

⁃ He was there when they were to save Bakugou and Noka

⁃ All Might fought AfO, and won

⁃ But there was no sign of Noka

⁃ Shirou nearly tackled Bakugou, demanding, no, more like pleading for him to tell him where she was

⁃ Bakugou merely said "She's gone, and I dont know where she went"

⁃ The whole class was in a panic

⁃ Where was Noka? Was she hurt? Was she scared? Was she in danger?

⁃ And the question that hung on everyone's mind the most was

⁃ Is she alive?

⁃ The emptiness of Noka's desk was deafening

⁃ Their smart ass classmate was nowhere to be found

⁃ And they all felt guilty

⁃ But none more than Bakugou

⁃ For he was the last to see her alive so to speak

⁃ And her last words to him were "Forget about me ya big oaf, you hear me? I don't want you sulking, or I'll personally beat your ass."

⁃ Forget about her? How could he do that?

⁃ Noka was the only person who didn't put up with his bullshit

⁃ From day one she put him in his place

⁃ And honestly shes the closest thing to a sister he has

⁃ During the hero license exam, all of class 1-A decided that Noka would be really upset if they all sulked and failed their exams

⁃ But the fact that only Todoroki and Bakugou failed would make her fall into hysterics

⁃ When class 1-A met the big three, Mirio told them that Noka was strong and stubborn to a fault, so they shouldnt worry about things that arent in their control

⁃ To which they asked how he knew her

⁃ Apparently Shirou, Amajiki, and Mirio have all been friends since elementary school

⁃ So Amajiki and Mirio had been there a lot for many crucial parts of Noka's childhood

⁃ When the work studies started, Deku went on patrol with Mirio and Shirou, AKA Lemillion and Shifter

⁃ Shirou couldnt help but feel so much guilt crushing him when Eri jumped out of Deku's arms

⁃ Cause Eri reminded him of his little sister

⁃ Speaking of little sister

⁃ She refused to return to the league, so Shigiraki sold her to giran, who then took her to Overhaul

⁃ For the last 2 months, Noka had been experimented on by Kai Chisaki

⁃ In the mean time trying to protect Eri and building a loving friendship with the young girl

⁃ Ill talk about this another time

⁃ So skipping to when they save her

⁃ It was a total shock for them

⁃ To see this wingless, pale, frail, bandage wrapped girl

⁃ And even more so when she spoke

⁃ Not having that bite that their Noka had

⁃ But a softer, more broken voice replaced her normally boisterous and confident voice

⁃ In the big battle agains Chisaki, Noka got slammed against a wall

⁃ Which in normal circumstances would be fine, but with her body in such a week state it immediately cracked her ribs and spine

⁃ Ochako helped get her friend to the ambulance as quick as she could

⁃ Shirou saw a fluff of pale pink hair out of the corner of his eye

⁃ He immediately turned to run towards the medical stretcher, but was stopped

⁃ He kicked and screamed something along the lines of "THATS MY BABY SISTER. PLEASE LET ME SEE HER"

⁃ In the most broken voice you would ever hear

⁃ In the hospital, after Sir. Nighteye had passed, Deku, Kirishima, Amajiki, Shirou, Ochako, Tsu and Aizawa were all waiting anxiously for Noka's surgery

⁃ When all of a sudden the door explodes open and the nurses and doctors are shoved out by an invisible force of heat

⁃ Noka was using her ability to set herself aflame and be healed in the ashes

⁃ But no one knew wtf was going on cause she learned the trick at the Hassaiki hideout

⁃ So p a n i k

⁃ But after the doctors confirmed her stablility, they all went back to school

⁃ The whole class bursted into tears when they told them about Noka

⁃ Jirou, Kaminari, Momo and Mina all being the most emotionally impacted

⁃ Bakugou was almost crying witb relief but he disnt show jt

⁃ They weren't allowed to see Noka for a whole month

⁃ Only family were allowed

⁃ She was hard at work recovering and going through therapy and they didnt want to disturb her

⁃ But when they (Kirishima, Deku, Ochako, and Tsu) did visit, they were shocked

⁃ There was this soft spoken, trembling, woman, and this was after a month of intense therapy

⁃ They hadnt event started physcial therapy yet, they wanted to get her tk the point she could be around others without going into a panic mode

⁃ But what really shocked them was how her wings hadnt grown back.

⁃ They were then told that they would never grow back, since the bone in them were completely ripped out.

⁃ Thus she needs a wheelchair while she recovers

⁃ Daiki sometimes visits her during the night

⁃ He apologizes to her over and over again for not being there when she was taken

⁃ But also to apologize for abandoning her and Shirou

⁃ She just cupped his wet cheek and said

⁃ "Daiki, I know you had a damn good reason to do what you did. Also you're my big brother. I dont care if you work for All for One, youre still my brother. And you'll always have a home with us. Shouta Shirou and I will welcome you back with open arms."

⁃ Needless to say Daiki just bursted into more tears

⁃ Anyways—

⁃ By the time the school festival comes around, Noka still needs a wheelchair, and isnt the strongest mentally, but she has made tremendous progress.

⁃ After the 1-A concert, Eri sat on Noka's lap the whole time. Except during the beauty pageant, in which Deku held Eri, and Mirio held Noka (cause shes a smol baby)

⁃ Noka was in charge of tesching Eri the basics while she recovered, since the young girl felt most comfortable with her

⁃ When the dual training session came around, Noka still couldnt do much moving around without draining her energy quickly. So she stuck with enhancing her quirk while she built up her physical strength.

⁃ Meaning she healed any and all injuries after the matches were concluded

⁃ Monoma made the mistake of saying something about her not making any progress, and Bakugou was t h i s close to murdering him 😌

⁃ Ever since Noka got back from the hospital, Bakugou has been v e r y protective of his honourary sister—

⁃ But Kendou smacked the blonde before Bakugou could do anything

⁃ Shinsou would totally go like "Noka are you okay? Are you sure you should be out here? How are you feeling? Do you feel sick?"

⁃ Cause Shinsou is a mom

Anyways I have a bunch more hcs but i dont wanna completely bore you. But I was thinking of doing this for Daiki Shirou and Noka as children. Or maybe for Phoebe 😳😳😳　

Comment or send an ask if i should