#loved ones when I’m here. because lately I am just stunted by pain and exhaust and anxiety

[silent-sedation]

I am in nauseating pain, I just need to curl up on the bathroom floor for a while and will away the crying ghost. I hope the visceral fear of throwing up is really just a phobia, and not at all linked to her other visceral reactive fear. Because that would make my childhood possibly more sad than I previously thought, and at that point it would get a bit ridiculous.

I don’t know why she tugs my sleeve and says ‘Wilt’. I do not want to know. I am blissfully not making connections (untrue)

[nastybuckybarnes]

Deep End  -  Six

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: He’s back. After all your best efforts at getting away, he’s found you again. And this time, he’s not letting you go so easily. He’s determined to do whatever it takes to get you to be his. Forever.

Warnings: Dark Themes, Language, Angst, Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 4.6K

A/n: Okie dokie! I’ve got an epilogue planned but I like this. The epilogue will explain shit better but I've known that this would be the end since pretty much the beginning LMAO

Deep End Masterlist

THIS IS A DARK FIC WITH SEXUAL AND TRIGGERING CONTENT!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

~*~

When Steve hears you stop struggling, stop fighting and stop crying, he’s nervous.

It’s been a while since he locked you up there, and he really should check on you soon, if only to make sure the baby’s okay after that stunt you pulled.

He pushes the door to the bedroom open, eyeing your figure carefully.

You look like you’re asleep. If he wasn't so attuned to your body, your heart and your breathing, he wouldn’t have noticed something’s wrong.

Your heart is beating rapidly, far faster than normal. And it’s weaker than usual.

Your breathing is shallow and strained, and your face is lacking its usual healthy glow.

He rushes to your side, tearing the rope from your wrists and touching your face carefully.

Your skin is hot to the touch, and he feels fear settle in his gut.

He doesn’t know what to do, how to help. He’s never really had to help you like this, the doctor’s always been nearby.

He grabs his phone, calling the doctor and pacing nervously.

“Sh-she’s burning up and her breathing is shallow.”

Steve's stomach drops as he listens to the doctor’s instructions, answers his questions and comes to the realization of why you’re like this.

He rolls you onto your left side, tears welling up in his eyes at how unresponsive you are.

The doctor hangs up after telling the super soldier that he’ll be there soon.

His heart is in his throat as he tries to undo the damage of his punishment, putting the evidence back in the box and kicking the rope under the bed.

You’re still unresponsive, heart weak, but your breath sounds a little less strained.

Monster. That’s what you called him. What Natasha called him and what Bucky’s asset called him.

Maybe you’re right.

But he wants you. He needs you. Giving you up would be giving up a piece of his soul and he’s not ready to do that yet.

~*~

The doctor informs him that both you and the baby are okay, but being on your back for so long was compressing a major vein supplying your baby with oxygenated blood. If he’d gotten there any later it might’ve been too late.

With strict instructions to keep you on your left side and make sure you stay hydrated, the doctor takes his leave.

He stays by your side, holding your hand tightly in both of his as he really comes to terms with the fact that it was entirely his fault. He almost killed you and your baby to prove a stupid point. To discourage you from doing the very same thing.

His heart is heavy in his chest as he listens to your heartbeat get stronger, to the baby’s heartbeat continue fluttering like a hummingbird’s.

Those two sounds bring him peace, if only temporarily.

Shattering his peace is the sound of the front door opening, followed by tiny little footsteps clomping up the stairs.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

Sarah.

Steve shoves himself to his feet and quickly leaves the room just as his daughter tries to enter.

“Sarah, mommy’s sleeping.” She frowns up at him and shakes her little blonde head.

“I need to talk to mommy!”

She walks around his legs only for him to scoop her up in his arms.

“She’s sleeping right now, honey.”

Sarah shakes her head angrily, beating her tiny fists against his shoulders.

“Let me go! I want mommy! Mommy!! Put me down!” She starts shrieking. Full-on screaming bloody murder right in his ear, and he loses his grip on the wriggling child.

She slides out of his arms and runs into the bedroom, climbing onto the bed and shaking your shoulder.

“Mommy?” She’s got little tears on her face, and they don’t cease when you don’t wake up.

“Why won’t mommy wake up?!” She looks up at Steve with terror written on her face and it shatters his heart in his chest.

“Sarah, mommy’s sick, okay? I had the doctor come over and he said that she needs to rest and when she wakes up we’re gonna need to make sure she’s got plenty of water, okay?”

Sarah’s big blue eyes are filled with tears and she shakes her head.

“I want mommy!”

She clings to your torso, crying against your shoulder in fear.

“Sarah, honey, mommy’s gonna be okay. You just gotta give her some space, okay? How about I set up a movie for you?” Sarah sniffles and slowly pulls away from you, looking at her father and shaking her head again.

“I want mommy! I hate you!”

Steve then realizes just how crucial you are. How important you are, not only to him but to his daughter as well.

Losing you would hurt so many people.

“Honey, you gotta give mommy and I some space, okay?”

He picks up the five-year-old, despite her quite literally kicking and screaming, and sets her down outside the bedroom.

He shuts the door quickly and locks it even faster.

Sarah stands outside, wailing her head off and pounding on the door with her tiny little fists.

She cries for you, over and over again, and it breaks Steve’s heart.

He’s brought back to what you said about him. About how this isn’t love.

He sits down at your side again, trying desperately to drown out the sound of his daughter crying outside as his thoughts overwhelm him.

He hasn’t been the nicest to you, that he’ll openly admit, and he makes mistakes probably more often than he doesn’t. But he loves you. He needs you.

Tears well up in his eyes and he lets out a shuddering breath.

He’ll make this right. He has to. Sarah deserves a mother, so does your unborn baby. And -though he may not deserve you- he needs you. The monster will be hard to fight, but losing you will be harder.

The damage he’s done might be irreversible, but he’s gonna do what he can to make things right, to give you a better life.

You don’t wake up for a few hours, but when you do you’re confused.

Your back aches and you feel a little dizzy as you remember what happened, how you got here.

Steve watches as you regain consciousness, confusion pulling your brows together before you slowly open your eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” He asks softly, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles soothingly.

You look up at him then drop your gaze to your belly, bringing your free hand down to rub it gently.

“Am I... are we okay?” He nods gently, tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I was... I don’t know, trying to teach you a lesson. And all that did was hurt you. Hurt the baby. I wanted to show you that trying to hurt yourself and hurt the baby wouldn’t fly, but I ended up doing far more damage.”

You swallow hard and struggle to push yourself into a seated position, wincing at the throb in your head.

“The doctor said that you shouldn’t move too much, and try to stay on your left side when you sleep. I-I didn't know that sleeping on your back was bad.”

You take a deep breath and look up at him, waiting for the anger to take hold in his eyes but it never does.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. For scaring you and not trusting you. I... I lost you for so many years and now I have you back and... I don’t wanna lose you again. But everything I do to try and keep you close, make you mine... all it does is push you further away and I’m sorry.”

His apology takes you by surprise, and you eye him skeptically.

How are you supposed to know if he’s telling the truth?

He drags one of his hands down his face and for a moment you can truly see just how old Steve Rogers is.

The exhaustion of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders finally shows in the lines near his eyes, the bags beneath them. But what really displays his age is his eyes. They’re so full of trauma and pain and weariness.

For the first time since waking up from the ice, Steve Rogers looks his age.

“I-I’m sorry, too,” you whisper, surprising him.

“I didn’t... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I wanted to punish you for what happened to Natasha. What you did. I wanted you to hurt but I just ended up hurting myself in the process.” You look down at your hands, trying to figure out how you want to phrase what you have to say.

“People argue, Steve. But what you do... it’s beyond that. We’re not... there are so many things wrong with what’s happening between us, what’s happened already, but I can’t leave. Sarah’s too attached and all I want for my little girl is to have a happy life. To have the happiness that was torn from me.”

Guilt settles on his chest, but he lets you continue speaking.

“I want my daughter to have a good life. I don’t want her to be afraid of-of people. The way I am. She loves you, and I know... I think you love her. You haven’t hurt her yet, and I hope it stays that way because at the rate we’re going, I'm not sure how much longer I’ll be able to do this.”

The pure fatigue on your face is more than enough explanation, but the idea of losing you is too much for him to bear.

“No, don’t say that. I’m gonna get better, okay? We-we were happy once. And we can do it again. I’ll be gentle and patient. I just... I need you, (Y/n). I need you a lot and the fact that you have such a tight hold over my every thought makes me angry. But I’m not gonna take it out on you anymore, okay?”

You let out a deep breath and eye him carefully.

“You’ve said that before.”

He thinks back to the time you spent in that cabin in the woods, where you turned his friends against him.

He has said that before, and look at where he is now.

“This time it’ll be different.”

You don’t have the energy to fight him. So if he’s gonna try, fine.

“Where’s Sarah?” You ask, hoping she’s still safely out with Morgan.

Steve’s face falls again and he stands up and opens the door to your bedroom.

Sarah sits crumpled in a ball, her cheeks covered in tears.

“Mommy!” She all but screams the word, launching to her feet.

Steve tries to take her hand but she yanks it away from him, shooting him a glare then running to the bed and climbing up beside you.

Your heart breaks when you see how sad she looks, and you hug her to your chest.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay.” She sniffles and climbs onto your lap, climbing to you like her life depends on it.

You wonder what happened while you were unconscious, what Steve did to upset her so much, and your mind immediately goes to the worst.

You look at the man, your thoughts written plainly across your face, but he quickly shakes his head.

“No. I just told her she couldn’t come in. Not ‘till you woke up. She uh... she stayed right outside the door.”

You soothe your daughter, rocking her as much as you can manage with the pain rolling down your spine.

“It’s okay, baby. Mommy’s okay. Everything’s okay.” You hold her close to you, trying to calm her down while Steve looks on helplessly.

Although his daughter loves him, loves being here with him, nothing can compare to the bond that the two of you have.

The monster in him hates it. Hates that he’s not as close to his own daughter, blames you for it. But he pushes that part of himself down.

He made a promise. And this time he’s not gonna break it.

~

"Are you sure you’re okay with it?” He asks for the thousandth time.

You only shrug, fixing your hair in the mirror as the doorbell rings.

“It’s a little too late now, Steve. Besides, I don’t really care. Sarah’s gonna have fun and that’s all that matters.”

Your daughter took a few days to warm up to Steve again, but now that she has he’s not gonna risk anything changing that.

He takes one last look at you, at how pretty you look in your blue sundress, then leans forward and kisses your cheek.

“I love you, (Y/n). I can send them away.”

You take a deep breath and shake your head.

“Sarah’s excited. Besides, I wanna know what we’re having.”

You plaster on a forced smile and it breaks his heart, but he turns and heads downstairs to greet the guests.

Ever since you got hurt, he’s been nicer. Far gentler than he's ever been with you, and you’re not complaining.

Steve has the potential to be a good person, that much is obvious, but he chooses not to.

He hasn’t hurt you again, or even yelled at you. No, he’s been patient and understanding and it’s such a sharp contrast from who he was before.

You can hear him greeting the guests warmly, chatting on and on about this and that and whatever else.

Taking a deep breath to prepare yourself, you leave the faux safety of the bedroom and head down the stairs, smiling at your guests.

People that you’ve never seen before are in your house. Well, that’s not true. You’ve seen them on TV.

The Avengers are in your living room and kitchen, talking softly amongst themselves.

In the presence of these superheroes, you feel small. Weak. And you can’t fight the urge to find Steve as anxiety crawls up your spine.

He’s in the kitchen, talking animatedly with Tony Stark and Sam Wilson. Iron Man and Falcon.

He looks so at ease, his face split open with a laidback grin.

Sam’s eyes find yours and he says something to Steve, making the blond turn to you with a soft smile.

He waves you over and you obey, one hand resting delicately on your bump.

“Sam, Tony, this is my (Y/n). (Y/n), Sam and Tony.” You nod politely at them, sliding your clammy hand into Steve's nervously.

You haven’t been around this many people in a very long time.

“It’s nice to finally meet the woman who’s got Captain America so hooked! All he does is talk about you,” Sam says, a grin on his face.

You smile at him, looking up at Steve.

He nods encouragingly, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles to try and ease your anxiety.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. I, uh, I’ve heard a lot about you. About both of you.” Tony smiles looking down as someone tugs on his pant leg.

“Can I have a sleepover at Sarah’s house?!” Morgan asks excitedly, her little face full of glee.

“You’re gonna need to go ask your mother. You know she makes all the decisions.”

Tony’s gaze lifts to yours when his daughter runs to find her mom.

“Is it alright if she sleeps over tonight?”

Steve nods then looks at you.

“You alright with that?”

You’re not sure if it’s a real choice or a test, but you don’t want to find out.

“Of course. She’s always welcome here.”

Tony nods with a smile, then resumes whatever conversation they were having before you showed up.

You tune out what they’re saying, carefully rubbing over your stomach and poking at your baby whenever they decide to kick you.

“(Y/n)? Did you wanna help me set the food up outside?” Pepper’s voice breaks you from your trance, her hand coming to rest softly on your shoulder.

You look up at Steve, silently asking for permission, but he just leans down and presses a soft kiss to your lips and lets go of your hand.

You follow Pepper, setting up the table in the backyard silently for a while before she clears her throat.

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)? Sarah told us you were sick.”

You swallow hard and give her a tight smile.

“I’m feeling better. Tired all the time but this little devil is to blame for that.” You poke your belly only to be met with another kick.

Pepper nods, smiling at you.

“Are you excited?”

That question throws you for a loop.

Are you? Are you excited to have another baby?

You’re excited for Sarah to have a sibling. Excited to get to hold your baby and love your baby. But the reason why you’re having the baby in the first place? The father of your baby? No.

“Yeah, I am. A little nervous, too.”

She sits down by your garden, patting the seat next to her.

“You look tired, (Y/n). More tired than a mother should be. You’re wearing yourself thin.” You keep your lips sealed, not wanting to say anything that might make Steve mad.

She sighs and sets a gentle hand on your knee.

“I don’t know what your... relationship is with Steve, but I know you’re unhappy. He’s a good guy, deep down. But you need to take care of yourself, okay? Don’t work yourself to the breaking point because it’ll be even harder to build yourself back up. Especially with a brand new baby.”

You let out a shuddering breath and nod.

“It’s just hard. I’m trying but... it’s hard.”

As you talk softly with Pepper, Steve observes the two of you.

You look so sad, so defeated. He hates that he made you look like that.

“She’s unhappy, Steve.”

He turns to the voice, eyebrows raising.

“Wanda. I didn’t know if you’d make it.” He pulls her into a hug. “I heard about what happened in Westview... Wanda, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

She sighs, pulling away with a sad smile.

“No. But I will be.” Her eyes travel back over to you for a moment, feeling the pain and the sorrow in your soul.

“Do you think she’ll ever be happy here? With me?” Wanda sighs, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes, feeling your thoughts, your energy.

“It’s hard to tell. Right now she’s so... numb. Nothing but sadness and... hopelessness. Her spirit is crushed, Steve.” She reopens her eyes and turns to the blond.

“You can’t keep her here like this. It’s only a matter of time before she gets fed up and tries to do something drastic. Again.”

Steve knows. He fucking knows that. But he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do to lift your spirits.

He's given you more freedom, let you make more decisions for yourself. He’s been gentler with you, hasn't forced himself on you.

Not forcing himself on you isn’t something to gloat about, but given the history between the two of you, it’s something fairly major.

He just wants to keep you in his life. He needs to keep you in his life.

He turns to the young woman beside him, a thought bubbling into his mind.

“Could you... do something to make her happy? Make her enjoy her life here? Make her love me again?”

Wanda’s mouth curves down as she looks at you, watches you play with your daughter and Morgan.

“Steve, it’s not right.”

The blond lets out a pained breath, shaking his head desperately.

“I just want happiness, Wanda. Don’t I deserve it? Haven’t I suffered enough to deserve a happy ending?”

Wanda’s eyes glow red with sorrow as she’s reminded of her own happy ending that she had to give up.

She takes his hand and gives it a squeeze, dropping her gaze for a moment before looking over at his desperate blue eyes.

“We don’t always get what we deserve. It’s hard and it hurts, but we can't control everything. And at some point, we need to let go. No matter how hard it is or how much it hurts. We can’t hurt other people because of what we think we deserve.”

They both look back over to you, your own eyes already on the pair, but dropping as soon as you see them turn to you.

“I’m sorry, Steve. I can’t do that.”

Tears stab at his eyes and he huffs out a breath through his nose, turning on his heel and walking away from the party, from his friends.

His abrupt departure catches the attention of a few people, yourself included. Before you can get up and see what’s going on, Bucky’s on his feet and heading into the house.

The woman Steve was talking to makes her way over to you, smiling gently.

“Hi (Y/n). I’m Wanda.” You smile at her, eyes darting towards where Steve disappeared from then back to her.

Bucky re-emerges only a few moments later, shaking his head at Natasha when she gives him a quizzical look.

You turn to Wanda with a strained smile.

“Could you just watch Sarah for a minute? And make sure she has something to eat? The foods ready.” She nods, watching with sad eyes as you walk back into the house to see what’s wrong with Steve.

“Steve?” You call softly, looking around for him only to find him sitting on the couch in the living room, his face in his hands.

“Why can’t I have what I want?” His question catches you off guard and you move to stand in front of him.

He shakes his head sadly, pulling his hands off of his face to grab yours, holding them tightly.

His lips brush over your knuckles gently, before he presses the back of your hands against his forehead, dropping his gaze to the floor.

“This isn’t right.”

Your heart races in your chest, stomach tying in knots as you try to figure out what he’s talking about.

“What are you talking about? Is everything okay? Did... did I do something wrong?” Maybe you shouldn’t have talked to Pepper earlier. Maybe you should’ve just stayed quiet and smiled.

“I can’t keep you here.”

One sentence. Five words. Sixteen letters.

That’s all it takes to have your heart stuttering.

“What... what do you mean you can’t keep me here?” You try your hardest not to let your hopes get too high. Maybe he’s going to kill you. Maybe that’s what it is. It’s certainly something more up his alley than... the alternative.

He slowly raises his head, teary red eyes staring up into yours. 

“You know what I mean.”

You shake your head, needing to hear him say it himself.

“What are you saying, Steve?”

He lets out a heavy sigh and closes his eyes, the words hurting him but he needs to say them.

“You're free to go. You and Sarah.”

The breath gets knocked from your lungs, eyes wide as tears start to blossom. This is a trap. A test. It has to be. There’s no way...

“You’re letting us go?” You ask softly.

He sighs again, nodding as tears find their way down his cheeks.

“Yeah... I guess I am.”

You’re silent, staring at him and waiting for him to tell you it’s a joke, to punish you. But he doesn’t. No, instead he lets go of one of your hands and stands up, his chest almost brushing yours.

“You said I don’t love you... but I do. I love you. Or maybe I love the idea of you, I don’t know. But either way... I hate how sad you are. How sad and afraid I make you. You're free to go wherever you want.”

You’re practically hyperventilating.

After all this time, you never truly thought he’d ever let you go. That he’d have even a shred of decency left inside him.

He cups your hands together and carefully places something inside them, then turns and walks to the front door, grabbing his keys and leaving the house.

You stand silently, staring at the object in your hands until standing becomes too hard and you think you may throw up.

Then you sit down, silent tears trekking down your cheeks.

“(Y/n)?” You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting on the couch, staring at your hands, but Natasha’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“(Y/n), are you okay? Where’s Steve?”

You stare up at her then look back down at the tiny, life-changing object in your hands.

“He let us go,” you whisper, your glossy eyes raising to hers again.

She looks half as shocked as you feel.

“What?”

You sniffle then wipe the tears off of your cheeks.

“He’s letting us go,” you repeat, pushing yourself to your feet and holding your bump.

“Really?” You nod, eyes finding the backyard through the kitchen window.

Sarah and Morgan are playing outside with Sam and Wanda.

“What are you gonna do?”

Your heart is so full of confusion, full of pain and hurt.

“I’m gonna go cut the cake, then have a talk with Sarah.” She nods, a small smile on her face.

She heads back outside and you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down before you go out and face Steve’s friends.

You toy with the dainty thing he dropped in your hands before nodding to yourself.

This is what’s right. It’s the right choice for both of you.

You entertain his guests for a few more hours, not wanting to clue them into anything in case they disagree with your decision, with Steve’s.

Only after the presents are given and the cake is almost completely devoured do they finally start to leave.

Wanda helps you tidy up the backyard, writing her phone number down with a soft smile and a whispered ‘if you ever need a friend’.

Everyone bids you goodbye until only Bucky and Nat are left, the metal-armed soldier staring intently at your left hand before a smile spreads across his face.

He surprises you, pulling you into a gentle hug and nodding his head.

“Congratulations, (Y/n).” You’re not sure what he’s talking about, but for some reason, you don’t think it has anything to do with the baby shower.

They leave too, and then you’re virtually alone, Sarah and Morgan asleep upstairs.

After cleaning up every last inch of the house, you head upstairs to go to sleep.

Steve isn’t home until after midnight, long after he lets his tears run dry and his heart stop shattering. It just aches now. Hurts.

He let you go. He really did it.

Deep down he knew this would be the outcome. Either this or your death, but he never wanted to accept it. Refused to admit it to himself.

But seeing Wanda... after all that she’s been through... and she’s still standing strong.

He takes his shoes off and drops his keys on the kitchen counter, freezing in his tracks when he sees the covered plate of cake with his name written on it.

The batter is blue.

A boy.

He’s gonna have a son.

A son that he’ll never get to meet. He’s given you freedom, and he doubts you’ll let him be a part of your child’s life after all that he’s put you through.

He slowly makes his way upstairs, his heart hurting when he sees no sign of your things in the pristine house.

When he pushes open the bedroom door he freezes in his tracks.

There you are, sleeping in his bed. No bags are packed, nothing is out of place, and the dainty diamond ring sits on your finger.

You’ve made your choice, he realizes, his heart jumping for joy in his chest.

He sheds his clothes then climbs into bed with you, wrapping you up in his arms and sighing heavily.

Maybe Wanda was wrong.

Maybe he’ll get his happy ending after all.

[faithinthefuture28]

Larry songs timeline & what it tells us about the evolution of their relationship

**These are all just my interpretations but the more I listen to the music they wrote, the more it all fits together. ESPECIALLY BECAUSE THROUGHOUT THE YEARS THEY’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT WRITING “AUTOBIOGRAPHICALLY” AND “FROM PERSONAL EXPERIENCE”

I deffo missed some songs but these stood out to me:

2013

L-Strong: Love isn’t easy (waves trying to break it) but what we have means something and it’s worth fighting for. read: love is only for the brave (Think of how much love that’s been wasted...there’s nothing i’m running from...i don’t care, I’m not scared of love) And we bring out the best in each other so lets not throw this away (i’d do anything to save it...when i’m not with you i’m weaker). 

H-Happily: I want to fight for us too bc we’re on fire and our love is powerful af. ik we have to do stunts and stuff (and if (s)he feels my traces in your hair, sorry love but I don’t really care) but what we have is insane and fuck everyone else bc you’re MINE and i’m YOURS at the end of the day (i wanna be the one who holds you when you sleep). Together, we’re magic so just be with me so happily

H-Something Great: ****this song is very straightforward so i won’t explain it much***** (i want you here with me like how i pictured it so i dont have to keep imagining... We’re better off together here tonight). Written as a longing for what could be if they dont have to suppress the relationship. (script was written...want to rip it all to shreds) Louis’ response (you’re all I want so much it’s hurting) basically says “it’s not too much to ask babe, i want it too.” This has the kind of longing that ‘wouldn’t it be nice- beach boys’ which Harry has admitted is kind of a theme song. 

L-Through the Dark: I know all this bs we’re going through is taking a toll on you and hurts you and i hate seeing you upset (you tell me that your sad...you tell me that you’re hurt and youre in pain and i can see your head is held in shame...i just wanna see you smile again) but I will do everything physically possible to protect you from any pain bb (i’d never let you fall and break your heart, if u wanna cry or fall apart, i’ll be there to hold ya). We’re going through this together and I will take on any responsibility needed to keep you happy.  I’M WILLING TO GO THROUGH HELL TO FIGHT FOR US HARRY LOVE (entire chorus basically).

L-Better than Words: holy fuck our love is amazing can’t even describe it can i just sing to you foreva love u babycakes

L-Why don’t we go there: what if...we just forgot about the world and escaped and enjoyed each others love and rode the high??? Also sex

2014

L-Ready to Run: *******Followup to Why Don’t We Go There*********** But this time let’s escape for real bc (there’s me inside a sinking boat running out of time). Like i’m ready to get out of here and it could just be us living happily ever after (this time i’m ready to run). Honestly nothing else makes sense (without you i’ll never make it out alive...wherever you are is the place i belong). I know what i want out of life and IT’S YOU HARREH (i want to be free and i wanna be yours, i will never look back). 

L-Steal My Girl: all u thirsty hoes find someone else bc Harry is MY pretty princess. Srsly ask his family. But you can still admire how he looks in those jeans. We all do. You know the ones

L-No Control: boy u fine, let’s do what lovers do IN THE MORNING. bc we can. also you own me and i am urs

L-Clouds: WE KNEW THIS WAS GONNA BE HARD SO WHY ARE YOU BEING A LITTLE BITCH (you dont like it complicated...but love is never ever simple...you are tired of all the changes, but love is always always changing). We could be great yo, just keep fighting (if we’re never coming back down, we’ll looking down on the clouds...we go and we go and we dont stop)

H-Where do Broken Hearts Go: IM SORRY LOU BABY YOURE EVERYTHING (rest of my crimes dont come close the look on your face when i let you go... the taste of your lips...is at the top of the list of things i want). H&L’s call and  response at the end is basically forgiveness and acknowledgment (come on baby come and get me out, come on baby cuz i need you now)

H-Two Ghosts: *****was written around this time according to Harry******. This is fucking hard yo. We’re drained and exhausted and idk how much more we can fight for this... (it’s not you and it’s not me...sounds like something that i used to feel). That infatuation and electricity and hope that fueled our younger selves isn’t really there anymore and i’m just tired man (we’re just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat, we’re not who we used to be...this was all we used to need). We’re empty vessels going through the motions (same eyes blue, couple more tattoos). AND WE AREN’T FUCKING COMMUNICATING (we dont say what we really mean). 

2015

H&L-Perfect: so what if... we get rid of the pressure of forever? What if we just have fun doing the stupid shit we love and makes us feel alive (trouble up in hotel rooms, secret little rendezvous, things you know that we shouldn’t do). Like we won’t be out of each others’ lives, I’m still around and we can find comfort in each other and even mess around here and there (I can be the one you love from time to time). Remember how we used to be young and EXCITED (when i first saw you from across the room, i could tell that you were curious) let’s get that energy back without the responsiblity of an adult relationship. And we can keep making art lmao (if youre looking for someone to write your breakup songs about). 

L-Long Way Down *****this song fkn hurts man. It’s overlooked a lot but shows so much insight**** We were...everything. And maybe that’s the problem? We’ve been through so fucking much, more than anyone our age should have to endure. (We've been in fire, Went down in the flames. We sailed the ocean And drowned in the waves. Built a cathedral But we never prayed) We didn’t know what we had. We were damn kids man. We weren’t prepared for all this. We didn’t know how powerful this would be. We didn’t know what it required of us. (We had a mountain But took it for granted. We had it all yeah. Who could’ve planned it). We didn’t know what to do with it, how to deal with it, so here we are. (We had a spaceship But we couldn't land it) We’re each other’s everything, but we can’t keep going on like this babe. (We found an island But we got stranded). I don’t want to leave you but being together is breaking us down. (Point of no return and now It's just too late to turn around) We thought we were untouchable. That love conquers all. Maybe, we were wrong. This is gonna hurt like a bitch (We built it up so high and now I'm fallin', it’s a long way down)

H-Olivia: I LIVE FOR YOU, I LONG FOR YOU, I LOVE YA. And i think i’ll always love ya. And I’m scared...of life without you (i get the feeling you’re walking out, time is irrelevant when i’ve not been seeing you, the consequences are falling now, there’s something i’m having nightmares about...dont let me go). But maybe just maybe thats okay, because you’re AIMH (you live in my imagination...i love you, it’s all i do). 

L-Love you Goodbye: I fucking love you and I’ll always fucking love you but i think this is the right thing to do even though it feels so wrong (i know there’s nothing i can do to change it, but is there something that can be negotiated?) We made some goddamn fireworks together though (unforgettable together held the whole world in our hands) and do ya maybe think...we can make them just once more? (if tomorrow you wont be mine, let me give it to you one last time, baby let me love you goodbye...one more taste of your lips just to bring me back to the places we’ve been and the nights we’ve had because if this is it, then at least we could end it riiiiight). ********in the interview with our FAVE Gwen Garcia, she asked if it’s better to say goodbye and end a relationship that’s not feeling right or keep trying even if your heart’s not in it. Harry responds with “I think it’s better to say goodbye...but sometimes if youre trying to protect..” Then Louis cuts him off and says “you’re going deep aren’t you”, brushing the question off as a joke but imho i think there was pain in that answer. Then Harry continues “if you’re not 100% in it, I think it’s better for both parties if you say goodbye”. And Louis adds a “yeah” at the end.********

H-Walking in the Wind: I know this is scary but i think we can do it, (you said to me do you believe i’ll be too far? if youre lost just look for me you’ll find me) I think because youre AIMH and i’m always in yours, it’ll be good for us. And look at us being mature, we’re killing it babe. We can live our separate lives and grow on our own. We dont need to make it messy and hurtful. We’re on the same page. (the fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye means we’ve already won. A necessity for apologies between you and me, baby there is none). At this point, we’re kinda part of each other right? So it’s healthy for us to be apart for a bit. (it’s not the end, i’ll see your face again... i know we’ll be alright...just close your eyes and see i’ll be by your side any time you need me). And you’ve helped me grow into the person I am, and I you, so that’s cool as hell, right? (you will find me in places that we’ve never been). We had a TON of fun (we had some good times didnt we) so i feel okay that we’re doing this (goodbyes are bittersweet) and starting the next adventure in our lives. 

H-If I could fly: I. am. yours. Louis. William. Tomlinson. (for your eyes only, i’ll show you my heart). Maybe this growth thing isn’t worth it, let me prove to you how much you mean to me (i think i might give up everything just ask me to). This is gonna be hard as shit because i’m so dependent on you (i’m missing half of me when we’re apart). I’m being honest and I’m being scared and I’m being vulnerable because I can’t lie to you and pretend I’m strong (i let my guard down, right now i’m completely defenseless). But we’re part of each other, right? (i could feel your heart inside of mine). I’ll always be here for you Lou (for when you’re lonely and forget who you are) even if for now we can’t physically be together. 

L-Home: I’ve tried, Harry. I’ve tried to play pretend (told myself i kind of like her but there was something missin in her eyes). But i was lost (i was stumblin, lookin in the dark with an empty heart) because none of it was enough, none of it was YOU (it was there i sawr it in your eyes). And then i met you and you felt the same and we’re both lost souls playing pretend who found magic in each other (but you say you feel the same, could we ever be enough?) Is our love enough to overcome everything? Maybe we can be enough. Maybe I can make this enough, let me try to make it enough for you. And if we go our separate ways, know that I’m here for you no matter what. I won’t let you be lost again. (When you’re lost I’ll find a way and I’ll be your light, you will never feel like you’re alone, I’ll make this feel like home). So go. wander. find yourself. Then when you’re ready, come home. 

 2016-2017

H- Sweet Creature: ***Harry admit that this was the first song he wrote for the album**** We aren’t in the best place rn. We’ve been fighting (had another talk about where it’s going wrong...it’s hard when we argue, we’re both stubborn). But it’s you Louis. It can’t be anyone else. (don’t know where we’re going but we know where we belong... wherever I go, you bring me home). That’s not even a question. I’m still trying to figure out who I am, but the one thing I know is that a large part of who I am is you (we started 2 hearts in one home). And aint no way I’m losing that part of myself (when i run out of road, you bring me home). It was always you. 

H-MMITH: Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready (just let me know i’ll be at the door,  hoping you’ll come around). I know I need to work on myself a little more (i gotta get better, and maybe we’ll work it out) but honestly i’m getting impatient and i want things to go back to how they were and i want to be yours again (once you go without it, nothing else would do). But I can’t communicate this to you clearly so let me just put this in a song and hope you get it (we dont talk about it, it’s something we dont do) ****Harry mentioned in an interview that he expresses himself through songwriting when he can’t say the words directly to a person because it’s easier to just write it in a song than have difficult conversations*****

H-ESNY: ****honestly no idea what this song is about but it’s something to do with them fighting and not communicating and being in a weird place before their relationship is rekindled******* edit: this could be about his stepdad

H-FTDT: I MISS YOU AND I’M TOO FULL OF PRIDE TO TELL YOU DIRECTLY JUST COME BACK INTO LIFE LOU I’M LONELY AND SAD AND EMPTY AND IM NOT FUCKING FINDING MYSELF LIKE YOU SAID I WOULD (woke up alone, played with myself where were you...we havent spoke since you went away, why wont you ever say what you wanna say) So until then I sit and wait for your sorry ass to make the first move (maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too...but you never do). Also like i have to hear from other people how you are?? (i saw your friend that you know from work, he said that you feel just fine) ANd you’re sharing OUR clothes with people?? wtf just swallow your pride and call me 

L-Miss You: OKAY BUT I CANT JUST CALL YOU BECAUSE I HAVE PRIDE TOO also my mates are trying to make me get over you (now i’m asking my friends how to say I’m sorry, they say lad give it ttime there’s no need to worry, and we can’t even be on the phone now). So i’m just numbing your absence with partying and drinks but CLEARLY ITS NOT WORKING (should be laughing but there’s something wrong...shit maybe i miss you...when i feel it coming up i just throw it all away, get another few shots cuz it doesn’t matter anyway...such a good time, i’ll believe it this time). This is weird bc like you were my everything but im trying to get used to this and it fucking sux (oh how shit changes, we were in love, now we’re strangers). And tbh, its scary af bc what if this is it (i’m asking myself, is it over?). BUT ALSO LIKE WTF U COULD REACH OUT FIRST YA KNOW (i’ve been checking my phone all evening).

H-Anna: wtf Louis how do you not see how much this is killing me. I miss you so much and seeing you on tv or in pics drives me wild bc you’re not mine. (I don’t want your sympathy but you don’t know what you do to me...everytime I see your face there’s only so much I can take...I guess it would be nice if I can touch your body). And idk if you’re replacing me (don’t know where you’re laying, just know it’s not with me) and we’re in SUCH a weird place rn how do I tell u you’re the loml (don’t know what I’d say if I passed you on the street...don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth) so I refuse to put this song on the album and let you know this and give you satisfaction from knowing how gone I still am for you bc I have 0 idea how you feel (hope you never see this and know that it’s for you)

L-Always You: SO THIS IS ME SWALLOWING MY PRIDE STANDING IN FRONT OF YOU SAYING IM SORRY FOR THAT NIGHT... ok but fr i miss u i miss u i miss u i miss u and nothing else compares like i can travel the whole world and all i think about is how much more fun it was with you and the memories we shared and i wish i could just say thx fr th mmrs and move on but actually no thx actually fuck you for making me not able to enjoy my life without you. So like...come home? and wrap your legs around me? also lmao i took El to a gay bar in amsterdam for her bday lmao i miss u come cuddle me and i’ll tell you all about it

L-We Made It: looks like we made it, look how far we’ve come my baby. They saidd I bett they’ll never make it, but just look at us holding onn, we’re still togetherr, still going stronggg. Also to the fans, miss our single bed and the nights we talked about our dreams :-* also Andrew my man luv u

2018-2019

L-KMM: our love was youthful and exhilarating and fucking electric and i think it still can be. dont know what i’d do without you now H 

L-DLIBYH: We’re strong babe and we’ve grown and we aren’t gonna let life drag us down. I’m doing better, you’re doing better, this is what we wanted. And now any shit we go through, we’ll go through TOGETHER 

L-Too Young: Okay but looking back, that was a lot of shit we went through and we were just babies and i’m sorry for not fighting harder (i cant believe i gave in to the pressure when they said a love like this would never last so i cut you off cuz i didnt know no better) baby i tried, i tried to protect you but like it was just so much and i hate that you got hurt and i wont ever let that happen again. ALso go us for being mature and COMMUNICATING (face to face at the kitchen table, we can finally have a conversation that I wish we could’ve had before). ANd i know you’re an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry so here let ME say i’m sorry that i hurt you darling. Like we were too young to know we had everything BUT now we’re old(er) and can realize that when we’re together, we DO have everything now and omg is this our happily ever after and we can have a daughter and name her Darcy 

L-Habit: do i need to spell it out for you iiiiii aaaaaaaaammmmmmm sssssssoooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyy. But tbh i let you go because it felt right because mentally you were already out the door and i needed to give you room to grow babe. And i needed the space too (you gave me the time and the space i was out of control and i’m sorry i let you down). but like also i’ve learned i can’t escape you Styles. You’re always in my fucking heart and my fucking mind and in every essence of my being and somehow I knew that 9 years ago and it took me this long to realize how powerful this really is (guess that that i know what i already knew, i was better with you and i miss you now). Ooooh also my favorite line i wrote (took some time cuz i ran out of energy of playing someone I heard I’m supposed to be and honestly i dont have to choose anymore) like who am i kidding, im done pretending i just wanna be yoursss now

L-Defenseless: I can’t help it okay theres something about you that doesn’t let me stay away. I need you and I know that rekindling this relationship isn’t going to be easy even though it feels so so right. It’s going to be hard work (sleeping on our problems but we’ll solved them in our dreams, wake up early morning and it’s still under the sheets) and we need to communicate and solve our problems but here I am, raw and unfiltered and emotionally naked in front of you ready to lay it all on the table (not sure how to say this right, got so much to lose. NEver been so defenseless). So like this branch I’m reach out to you and you be honest with me too babe (you dont have to keep on being strong for me and you. Acting like you feel no pain, you know i know you do...I can’t get inside, when you’re lost in your pride but you don’t have a thing to prove). Be open with me. Lets talk. Let’s solve problems. Lets have an adult relationship. I’m asking for a little vulnerabiltiy babe. It’s just me. Theres nothing to be scared of

L-Walls: And here you have me in my purest form. No lies, no secrets, no insecurities to hide behind. Losing you was fucking painful but i got through it. I’ve been through hell and back and I’ve fought. And without you, I grew into the person I am. And any further growing i’m doing is gonna be with you. bc it was all for you babe. and honestly i can take anything life throws at me now. I’m strong baby. I’m fucking strong and fucking brave and fucking resilient and...fucking yours. ***** wtf is the I just hope i see you one day and you’ll say to me oh oh********

H-Golden: You are the literal sun and I’m not ready. YOU’RE SUCH A GOOD PERSON (you were way too bright for me, i’m hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky). I’m scared to go through this alone, I need your comfort and your guidance (i can feel you take control of who i am and all i’ve ever known). But you’re scared to go through this with me bc you dont wanna get hurt and i’m too open so where tf does that leave us. ******this could be about coming out especially with the London AND NY secret shows where Harry added the lyric I’m hoping someday you’ll open*******

H-Adore You: You dont have to say you love me, you dont have to say nothing, you dont have to say you’re mine. I’d walk through fire for you. Just let me adore Lou. Like its the only thing I’ll ever do. read: Louis is a great person to just admire what he’s like. ALso I dont need anything back. I just dont want to hide my love for you anymore. I don’t need answers or promises. Just let me adore you. ********the music video is also basically a Louis appreciation post. He was the boy with the smile that the world took away from him. He found Harry lost and loved him and nurtured him and made him confident and allowed him to be who he wanted to be. But in doing so, Harry became big and unsatisfied and wanted to explore the world and was clearly interested in Hollywood and Rockstardom especially evident in his behavior 2014-2015. And Louis wasn’t about that life and didn’t want to hold him back. So he let him free. But they realized that they don’t work apart. Wherever they’re going, they’re going together, as the boy sails into the unknown following the fish. I see it as Harry’s version of “this one is a thank you for what you did for me” ************* I see it, I appreciate it, and I love you for it

H-Lights Up: ****fight with Louis. (What do you mean I’m sorry by the way) About coming out? About fame? (Step into the light, so bright sometimes) Either way, L is the guy driving the motorcycle in the video who makes H feel comfortable and safe until they get pulled over because SOMEONE wont let them love*******

H-Falling: What if i’m out, what if i’m someone you won’t talk about? Okay maybe I lied I do want you to claim me. Would me coming out of the closet make that hard for you? I CAN’T GO THROUGH AN IDENTITY CRISIS WITHOUT YOU LOU. I picked someone supportive and now I’m spoiled and I dont know how to be with myself. You want back in my life but what if I dont deserve it? (you said you cared and you missed me too...what i’m someone i dont want around). What if you’re better off without me? (i get the feeling that you’ll never need me again). I know youve been through so much shit because of me, things you’ve never even told me about and im afraid...that I wasn’t worth it. Am I being selfish? because either way, i want YOU (what if you’re someone i just want around). Does that make me a bad person? 

H-TBSL: ****Probably when they starting talking again but it was v casual and they didn’t really discuss their relationship yet*****. I MISS U BUT I WONT TELL U THAT and its nice to talk to u again i missed your voice but if u call me baby i will kill u bc that word has weight OKAY. Like i know you just call everyone babe and darling and sweetheart but baby is FOR ME and only for me when you wake up with me and cuddle me and if you think you have any right calling me baby without giving the luxury of being in a relationship with you then piss off because that shit hurts dude. (i know that you’re trying to be friends, know that you mean it...it’s hard for me to go home to be so lonely). ALso it’s not my fault i’m like this, you literally captured my heart when i was 16 like wtf do u expect (dont blame me for falling, i was just a little boy)

H-Sunflower Vol. 6: we were babies and i was so enamored by you and you’re so bright and beautiful and i want to watch you all day and make you smile and i want you to touch my hair and call me curly and i hope im not making you uncomfortable with my heart eyes but like how are you so perfect. I hope you think i’m cool, i’m really trying but like you’re SO FUNNY and charming and everyone loves you i hope im not embarassing myself. And now it’s like 8 years later and i think i can have you again and i want you so bad but i dont wanna seem too eager and im trying to have dignity and not text you first but like also i want nothing more than to talk to you. Do you think i’m cool now? did you like my new hairstyle? Do you think i’m funny on tour? I want everything i want to be domestic again and kiss in the kitchen and i want to cook for you and as;ldfa;sdhaf i want to buy you flowers everyday and shower ur cute face with kiss. boopx28 

H-Canyon Moon: Hell yea i got ma man back and i have a girlfriend named Jennifer ;) and we are domestic and even though I HATE being away from him for work (so hard to leave it) we have the 2 week rule yall then i can wrap my legs around him and after so so so long I’ll be h.o.m.e. Also did i tell you his eyes are so so blue like sky who i dont know her

H-TPWK: So we’re really doing this. We don’t need to have it all figured out. We can just be us. and happy. and dance. The world loves us babe. (Giving second chances, I don’t need all the answers and if we’re here long enough we’ll see it’s all for us and we’ll belong)

H-Fine Line: You’ve got my devotion but man I can hate you sometimes....We’ll be a fine line. Between what? love and hate? public and private? out and in the closet? each others’ and ourselves? Idk. But i’m going to swallow my pride (my hands at risk I fold) because no matter what, the worst possible outcome is not having you. And I never wanna go through that again. I know we have work to do on our relationship (spreading you open is the only way I know you). And there’s lot of unknown here (there’s things that we’ll never know) but what i do know is that i cant resist you (you sunshine you temptress) and i cant be without you ever again. I think it’ll be hard as hell. But when have we known love as anything but hard? And when have we known our love as anything but worth it? We’ll be a fine line baby. But i know, i knowww with every part of me that we’ll be alright. Because these past 10 years, we’ve been through A LOT. ANd it could have ruined us and made us cynical and cold and closed off. And I think at one point it did. But you know what we did? We fought it. We fought it together. Then we fought it individually. And we became BRAVE. And a brilliant man once said, “love is only for the brave”. 

[unlikelymilkshakedream]

It was a typical Friday in riverdale, you woke up and were excited for the weekend because this week had literally tried you to no ends. Your homework had stacked up horribly, you hadn't hung out with your friends all week, much less your boyfriend, Sweet Pea.

As the bell rang signaling the end of the school day, you felt excited to go to the white wyrm and get drunk around you lr friends, however those hopes quickly died down as your teacher called you to stay after class.

"Y/n, before you go id like a word with you."

"And I'd like a magic pony, but so rarely do we get what we want." You sassed back. You wanted nothing more than to climb behind sweets on his motorcycle and drink until you couldn't see straight.

"Y/n, your currently failing this class, I'm sorry but you need to do better. I know you, you're a smart person and you can do great things. You need to try harder." Your teacher looked like he wanted to be nice, but you were not in the mood.

"Mr. Yelich, I am trying hard, but you don't exactly make it easy, assigning more work every class, on top of the other 8 classes I have with a job and a social life. It will get done I promise, I am trying very hard." You were more than anything exhausted. Your job had kept you up late and no matter, you still had to stay up even later doing homework.

As you left the school building, you knew all of your friends would be gone already, including pea, who you told to not wait for. Instead you decided to catch a ride with your fellow serpent, Jessica.

When you got to the wyrm, you walked in and immediately ordered a shot of fireball. Surrounded by the crowded bar, no less. Tonight you decided you were going all in, blackout or back out, and you never backed out. As you took your fifth shot, you heard a voice behind you.

"Damn, like they're trying to get drunk, you know its just a stunt to get some dick, no wonder sweet pea hasn't talked to them all week." You turned around to see some beach blonde bitch with a posey of girls looking right at you. You sighed annoyedly.

"Now I know you weren't talking to me because one, who the fuck are you, two if I wanted dick I could get it sober unlike you bimbo bitches and three, what the hell do i care if I see sweet pea? I'm not his tender and he ain't my protector. So go find some other dumbass to lay into to make you feel better about your pathetic life. Thank you."

Apparently, the girls couldn't take it as well as the could dish it and instead jumped you in the middle of the bar. Since you were a little intoxicated it wasn't as easy as it would have been, however that didn't stop the undefeated Y/N Y/L/N. You grabbed the blonde by her hair after she suckered you in the rib and kneed her nose.

The girl next to the blonde grabbed you and layed a blow to your face while the third and final girl kicked you in the back. You went after the third girl, grabbing her arm and breaking her nose with your fist, while the other two punched your back and arms. She stumbled backwards and you turned to the other girls.

The blonde punched you in your nose, causing blood to drip onto the floor. The second girl layed three nice punches in your stomach. At this point your fight had gotten the attention of majority of the bar.

Just as you had knocked the brunette to the ground, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and hoist you off of the ground, separating you from kicking the others asses.

"Y/n, what the hell are you doing?" Sweet pea asked as he set you down. Tall boy came over at the same time.

"What the hell is going on here? Brooke, Sam?" Both girls got up with blood running from their faces and looked at the ground. "Y/n?" Tall boy turned to you.

"Nothing, if a bitch wants to talk shit, she better be ready to back it up." You say spitting blood on the floor.

"Y/n, you can't fight among serpents. You know the rules, if I catch you one more time, your suspended." Tall boy pointed a sharp finger in your face.

As he walked away, sweet pea grabbed your arm and turned you towards him. "Y/n, why did you do that?" You slapped his hand away.

"Fuck off sweet pea, I don't need your protection, I can handle myself. I'm your girlfriend, not some kid you need to take care of." You yelled in his face, followed by a shot of whiskey and then you stormed out of the bar. Sweet pea was stunned, you never yelled at him, much less in front of people.

As you left the bar slinging your jacket over your shoulders, you heard pea following you. "Hey, what the hell was that in there? Huh, don't you ever talk to me like that again." You turned to him, anger rushing through your veins.

"Why, because it makes you look weak? Sweet pea, you always talk to me like that and im fucking tired of it. I'm a serpent just like you. I'm your girlfriend, okay? You're not my guardian angel, and I don't need protection. Every other serpent sees me as your girlfriend and its bullshit!" You were screaming at him in front of everyone in the parking lot, not caring anymore and tired of his shit.

"Y/n, I never once tried to be your guardian angel. And if I want to help you who the fuck are you to say no?" Your laugh was filled with anger.

"Oh don't fucking kid yourself sweet pea. You want a girl you can make a house wife, you got the wrong fucking one. If you think i need your help you can walk in the other direction and never look back. Go fuck yourself." You spat as you turned away from him and got glances from other serpents who were in the parking lot.

"Y/n, you're fucking scum!" He shouted at you. You didn't care however, you just continued storming off. You had hoped tonight you could let loose and let the worries die away. But as tears streamed down your face as you walked into the dark, you couldn't help but hate how he didn't see your pain and stress.

He only cared how he looked and not how you were feeling. He didn't care about everything that had happened that week, he only wanted to look tough, like you were nothing more than a girl he could easily replace. But oh, was that the farthest thing from the truth there could be.

As you walked down the dimly lit street, you promised yourself, never to let anyone control you or make you feel this way again. You deserved someone better, someone who knew not to fuck with you, and you would be damned if you ever let anyone step on your fire again.

A/n: hi, so I tried my best to write this in a way that anyone could read, I hope I did a good job! I hope you like it and to anyone who feels like they aren't taken seriously, I just want you to know that I believe in you, and don't ever let anyone tell you what to do. You are amazing and deserve to show it! I love you all! Thank you for the love on some of my recent works <333

[megan0013]

Chuckin’ a ⭐️ your way.

Sorry this took so long to answer! I wasn’t sure if I wanted to share or not, but then I realized VARIABLES is never going to get to this point anyway (though I’m halfway done with chapter six) so I might as well write out my thoughts and send them off into the universe.

That being said - this is more of a 1,350 word abridged and super self-indulgent ending than a “Director’s Cut”.

Jim goes into the Darklands months after he does in canon; thus, Gunmar doesn’t take over Trollmarket until Barbara is near the end of her pregnancy. And, unfortunately, she happens to be in the middle of an appointment with Vendel (who does not die) when the coup takes place. She’s recognized immediately as the Trollhunter’s mother and is taken captive after Otto tells Gunmar that Morgana would be most interested in a human/changeling hybrid. Gunmar considers it for a moment, and then appoints the poor polymorph as Barbara’s keeper. Which is how she’s able to stay healthy(-ish) throughout her imprisonment.

Fast forward a couple weeks, and Morgana is finally freed. One of her first orders of business is to go goad the Trollhunter’s incarcerated mother. She walks into the medical dwelling (where Barbara has been kept), monologuing, and then freezes.

“Gwen?”

“Uhhh… No. My name is Barbara Lake.”

But Morgana is convinced Barbara is the reincarnation of her long-lost love (I think they used the same character model, so that’s what this is based on) and decides that, as the mother of all changelings and Gwen’s lover, she’s entitled to keep/raise this baby.

Meanwhile…

Team Trollhunter is freaking the fuck out.

Especially when they’re in the middle of planning a rescue and Strickler’s face suddenly scrunches, and - oh, holy shit - the baby’s coming. There’s a fun scene in which Strickler is in absolute agony and, somehow, Toby winds up holding his hand.

“Omigosh! Breathe, Strickler! Breathe! You’re having a baby!”

“Do I look like I have the equipment to give birth, Domzalski? Fuck off!”

“I’m hurt, Strickler. Wounded.”

Abruptly, all the pain stops.

But then a feeling of fear, and exhaustion, and unparalleled love overwhelms him as the bond moves from a physical connection to an emotional one.

“It’s too late,” he says. “We’re too late.”

They’re not too late, and within twenty-four hours they (Strickler, Claire, and Aaarrrgghh) manage to infiltrate Trollmarket. Strickler finds Barbara. They have a very panicked reunion - “Oh my. That’s  my daughter, and I’m so happy but we must get you out of here right fucking now.” - before Claire portals them to the hospital, where Nik and a very specifically picked team are not-so-patiently waiting.

Morgana is pissed.

Anyway. There are a few complications but, ultimately, both mom and baby are okay. Barbara is sedated to help her heal (which is probably not something that happens irl, but let’s pretend - ok?), so Strickler is able to get some good bonding time in with his daughter while trying to keep up with Jim’s persistent, panicked texts.

At one point, Nik tells Strickler to go home for a few hours. He does, but only stays long enough to shower and pack a bag before heading back to the hospital - with Jim in tow. There’s a lovely brother/sister moment, and then Barbara wakes up and there’s an even lovelier brother/sister/mom/dad moment.

Jim goes home and instantly agrees to Merlin’s terms, while Strickler tries to talk Barbara into leaving town with the baby. She’s not having it. At all.

“Have you forgotten I’m the one person Morgana wants alive?”

Toby texts later that evening to see if they’ve heard from Jim. Barbara freaks and Strickler goes to join in the search for him. It’s a very tense day, followed by a very tense evening and a super awkward conversation in Barbara’s hospital room at 3 am wherein Jim starts gnawing absently on a stethoscope.

All this happens while Morgana is plotting out how best to bring forth the Eternal Night, betray Gunmar, and get her little ‘family’ back. She summons Otto (the changelings aren’t slaughtered, btw, and some of them are pretty sympathetic toward Strickler after seeing him around town actually living what they thought was only a fantasy life) and instructs him to kidnap the baby.

“You want me to… to steal Stricklander’s daughter?”

“Were you not listening? No, I want you to bring me the child that is rightfully mine. Her mother will surely follow.”

He’s hesitant but goes to do as he’s told.

Only, he doesn’t get a very good look at Nik when they pass in the hallway and winds up getting a few of his features wrong. Which probably wouldn’t matter if he were trying to trick anyone else, but Barbara and Nik have known each other since 8th grade and she calls him out almost immediately.

“You’re the polymorph. Otto, right? Walt’s told me so much about you.”

“He has?”

“Of course. He said you two used to be close - like brothers. In my book, that makes you family. Would you like to meet your niece?”

And, just like that, the Lake’s adopt another changeling.

Something Strickler is most skeptical of when he returns to the hospital a few hours later to find them chatting about some dumb stunt he’d pulled back in the early 1600’s. Nomura meets up with them, too, and the four manage to hash out a stupid, harebrained scheme to keep Morgana distracted up to, and during, the final showdown with Jim.

(I haven’t quite thought out all the specifics yet, but the plan includes Nomura in a glamour mask and Otto squeezing into a teeny, tiny little shape - so, you can guess where that’s going)

Anyway.

Barbara and baby are released from the hospital after three nights (might be two, idk, we’re playing fast and loose with the timeline here). They get home, entertain a few unexpected guests, host some impromptu strategy sessions, and then settle in for a small family meal that Strickler prepares in the hopes of bridging the gap from Jim’s old human palette to his new troll one. It goes over way better than canon, that’s for sure.

Later, after Jim has left to prepare for battle and the baby is finally down, a teary-eyed Barbara asks Strickler if he’s willing to stay with her that night. He jumps at the chance, because…

They still aren’t together.

They’ve ‘shared a bed’ once or twice since he moved in, but those were moments of passion and need that had only ever manifested into miscommunication and more. mcfreaking. yearning.

(They were roommates, anyone?)

And now? Well, this is definitely one of those moments. But with sex off the table, and a newborn two feet away, and the end of the world looming - maybe he should just tell Barbara how he feels about her?

“If something happens and I don’t come home tomorrow, I need you to know… My feelings for you haven’t changed. I’m still hopelessly in love with you.”

Of course, she feels the same.

Vows are made, kisses are exchanged, and they manage to get a few hours of rest before their daughter starts grumbling in her sleep.

The next day dawns bright and beautiful, and before Strickler leaves for battle Barbara wishes him good luck. He kisses her, then the baby, and says:

“This is all the luck I need.”

Or something like that.

(Because I think this kid’s name is Felicity [meaning ‘happiness’, and derived from felicitas meaning ‘luck, good fortune’]? Though, I might have just left it as Rory for consistency’s sake. Fun Fact: Rory is short for Aurora [Goddess of the Dawn], which I thought was a fitting name for a changeling to give their daughter.)

Ok, back to the story.

Everything, surprisingly, goes according to plan. Morgana is sufficiently distracted by Merlin and Aaarrrgghh, then by Otto and Nomura long enough for Jim to vanquish the Skullcrusher once and for all. But then she catches a whiff of the changeling magic surrounding Otto and Nomura. Everything sorta goes to hell after that.

True to canon, however, Team Trollhunter wins in the end by trapping Morgana in the Shadow Realm.

But only after Strickler sacrifices himself to save Jim’s life.

…

Joking.

They all live happily ever after.

(Until, ignoring Wizards altogether, Morgana breaks free a few years later and kidnaps the one changeling who isn’t a product of her magic, and is thus impervious to her mind control. Hijinks ensue. Morgana is rather pleased when the kid’s parents show up to rescue her.)

[the-shy-shrimp]

Well, hello! I am one of your readers from the AO3 and I just wanted to say that I enjoy your lotr related works very much! And since you allow asking for commission, there is one thing I would love to see if you ever felt inspired and that is Elrond Peredhel being hurt in a fight.

Adding in the rest of the ask because this came to me in three parts:

It seems that since he is a healer in most stories it is quite rare for him to get physically hurt – which is understandable of course... But I would love to see that written by you, as you are quite good at portraying this amazing hurt/comfort stories.

The floor is all yours, but maybe it would be nice to see how his family would react to that? Or any Imladris inhabitants. But you know, it’s just an idea, no pressure. Thank you very much! And whether you decide to use this idea or not I hope we will meet in some lotr-related work. Have a nice day! :D (And sorry for sending three asks - I am not used to Tumblr :c)

So here you go! Sorry it took forever, but I made a bad decision (very, very bad) when scheduling an exam that my entire career relied on me passing, so I was pretty brain dead for the two weeks after I got this ask... But here it is! Enjoy!

...

Pain is the first thing that registers when Elrond wakes, pain and the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that comes from fighting for one’s life.

Strange, he can’t remember being in a fight, not recently. Yet here he lays, sprawled out on the floor of his study, exhausted and aching for no clear reason. Attempting to move proves to be unwise, bringing dizziness and nausea with each shift, but the alternative of lying prone until someone finds him seems even more unsavory.

He goes slowly, first turning onto his side as he tries to deduce what has happened. His face and his jaw hurt the most by far, though the rest of his body is not far behind. But his jaw had been tightly clenched for several days now, likely the result of stressing over his third child’s imminent arrival, and so he finds it difficult to relate that symptom with the rest of what he feels. His hands wander over his body in a search for injuries. While he does not discover anything new, he does find his shoulder to be red and hot, the small puncture wound he sustained in a skirmish over a week ago now open and weeping. He groans internally at the finding.

It should have healed long before now, and that knowledge fills his gut with dread. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

The simple act of using the corner of his desk to pull himself upright leaves him shaking, and the idea of forcing himself to walk down the hallway to find Erestor is daunting to say the least. But it must be done. He presses onward, putting one foot in front of the other, desperately clutching whatever furniture seems sturdy enough to lend some support as he shuffles toward the door. Once out in the corridor there would be little to hold onto, unfortunately, but it was only a few yards between the doors to each of their workspaces. He would have to manage.

After fumbling with the doorknob for a moment, he breathes a sigh of relief upon finding the hallway to be entirely empty. The last thing he needs to be gawked at in his present state.

His movements are slow, but determined, as he makes his way along the wall, eventually coming to a stop in front of Erestor’s door. He attempts to knock before entering, but the sound is weak and piteous, barely heard over the sound of his own breathing. He has better luck with the doorknob this time around, and with minimal struggling, he tentatively steps into his friend’s space.

“Elrond? Is something the matter? You don’t look well.”

Erestor is at his desk, several papers in his hands and concern written across his face. He seems to be debating between getting up to rush over, and letting Elrond speak first.

The Peredhel swallows thickly, then gives an almost imperceptible nod, taking one, then two steps beyond the doorway. When he opens his mouth to speak, however, the ache that had thus far been sitting quietly in his jaw crescendos into a roar that races down his neck and back and into each of his limbs as pain engulfs his entire body.

A strangled cry is the only sound he makes, and Erestor’s cursing is the last thing he hears before the world goes dark.

-

“You really are the worst, you know.”

Erestor’s chiding is soft, lacking its usual barbed timbre, and is accompanied by the warm weight of a thick blanket settling over his body. The Peredhel gives him only a quiet sigh in return, blinking until the image of his friend comes into focus. He is not sprawled across the floor of Erestor’s office, as he halfway expected to be, but is instead tucked into a cot in the middle of an unfortunately familiar room. He groans, feeling even worse now than he did before, every muscle in his body wound tight as a bowstring, unable to relax no matter how much he ached.

It doesn’t take more than a minute before Elrond decides that he does not like being the one in the sickbed, and much prefers to stay within his role as a healer.

“Why didn’t you have the wound looked at when you returned? If one of your sons had pulled the same stunt you would have had their head on a platter.”

He can see the poorly veiled concern in Erestor’s expression, creeping through every time Elrond fails to suppress the violent shivers that come in waves almost too intense to bear.

“T-T-T’was only an, an, arrow…”

His voice is weaker, shakier than he would like it to be, stuttering as he tries to keep the shuddering at bay. His advisor only scowls down at him, looking more hurt than angry.

“Yes, only an arrow with a rusted head. If you were fully elven you might have been able to ignore such a detail, but you aren’t, Elrond! Now the poison is already in your blood, and it might just kill you. Andûnél says that it probably won’t, but there is still a chance.”

“I’m s-sure I’ll, I’ll be f-f-fine.”

Erestor leaps to his feet at that, sending the stool he had previously occupied flying back to clatter against the floor.

“Fine? You think this is fine? You cannot take risks with your life like this! What if you don’t make it, hm? Everyone in this valley depends on you, son of Eärendil. Your family depends on you. What if this is what does it? Would you leave your children to grow up fatherless, leave your people leaderless? You are all we have left, Elrond. They don’t have a high king to follow anymore, no one is going to step in and take care of things if you perish.”

He turns on his heel, disgust written on his face as he slams the door shut behind him.

Silence descends on the tiny room, and Elrond finds himself whimpering as the next wave of shivering hits him full force. He knows he isn’t alone, not truly. Someone will be around to check on him eventually. But for the moment he cannot help but feel abandoned. He wants Erestor to come back, but he will need time to sulk. He wants Celebrían, but he knows she won’t be back in Imladris for another week. Perhaps shamefully, he finds he wants Maglor most of all.

Maglor who had done his best in spite of circumstance, who made sure their needs were provided for. Maglor who held him when the tears didn’t seem to have an end. Maglor who sat with him late in the night when sleep wouldn’t come because of nightmares or insomnia or the disturbances that had come when his foresight finally began to manifest. Maglor who was the closest thing to a father he had ever really had.

It wasn’t until Andûnél knocked and entered that he realized there were tears in his eyes.

“Now, now, none of that.”

She sighs softly and dabs at the wet spots on his cheeks before anything else. He is grateful for the way her touches are nothing short of professional, devoid of the almost motherly tenderness they held when he and Elros were just young things being brought to her with scraped knees and sprains and broken bones. He already feels small and broken enough without being coddled.

Was it because Erestor had yelled at him? Probably. Being reminded of everything, everyone, that relied on him had left him feeling grossly inadequate. There was no high king. No one was around to supervise him and yank him out of his stupidity anymore. Ereinion couldn’t come to his rescue. Galadriel might, but not because she actually cared for him. She would come out of responsibility, and likely regret allowing her daughter to marry him as a result. Just a stupid, half-blooded fool who managed to survive long enough to reproduce in spite of his own idiocy—

“Elrond? Look at me, Elrond.”

He hiccups twice while trying to blink away the tears, and it takes several more minutes of dabbing at his eyes before he can actually see her face as more than just a wet blur.

“That’s better. Now, are you weeping because you are in pain, or because you are upset?”

“Pain.”

The single syllable is rasped out, barely louder than a whisper. The look in her eyes tells him that she knows he is lying, or at least telling only half the truth. Maybe the pain was a part of it, but Andûnél clearly knew it was just as likely a combination of the two.

“Alright. I can do something about that, at least.”

She leaves his line of sight immediately. If his neck didn’t ache so badly he might have tried to watch her, but he could barely move at all with how tense he was. He settles for staring at the ceiling and trying to breathe evenly. At least he could hear her moving about the room, and so he knew she hadn’t left him. Not like Erestor had.

Another whine escapes him at the thought.

“Hold on, I’m coming.”

He doesn’t get the chance to feel any more sorry for himself before she pries his lips apart and sticks a dropper full of bitter medicine in his mouth. It tastes foul, as all her tinctures do, but it works quickly, dulling the ache in a matter of only a few tense minutes, and for that he is grateful.

“Better?”

“Better.”

Elrond sighs, relaxing against the bed beneath him as the pain is driven back for the moment. He hadn’t noticed just how much the tension in his body was bothering him a moment ago, but with it now under control, its absence leaves him feeling weak and jittery.

“Unfortunately, there isn’t much we can do outside of managing the pain that comes with the muscle spasms.”

Andûnél’s voice feels far away, even if vaguely registers that she now sits beside him in the stool Erestor had previously discarded. She smiles down at him, looking tired above all else.

“There isn’t an antidote or any effective treatment for it. You’ll just have to wait it out until your body rids itself of the toxin.”

The idea sits poorly with him, although there isn’t anything he can do to change things, not now. The healer is quick to remind him, of course, that had he gotten the wound treated sooner, properly cleaned and bandaged as it should have been, he might have avoided this unpleasantness altogether. She says he ought to know better, and he knows she is right. But she takes his silence as exhaustion rather than the moping that it is, and mutters something about the two of them being the sole purpose someone came up with the adage that “healers make the worst patients” before tucking another blanket around him and getting up to leave.

“I will send Camaenor in to sit with you while I take care of some other things that need my attention. He will probably be so engrossed in whatever book he brings with him that you’ll hardly notice him, but at least he’ll be present if you need him.”

Elrond is asleep not long after Andûnél latches the door behind her, snatching up what sleep he can while he has the option. He’s seen this sickness before, in mortals wounded by pieces of old metal, and he knows that it is likely to get worse before it gets better.

When it does get worse, either Andûnél or her reedy apprentice are always present, ready and waiting with another draught for the pain and muscle spasms that make his limbs cramp and his back arch off the bed. The Peredhel is grateful that it is only the two of them who see him like this. Not that he doesn’t trust the discretion of the other healers, but he knows that Andûnél will not gossip, and Camaenor has been so absorbed in his studies that he is likely to follow his master’s trend.

The days all blend together, a cycle of sleeping until he is awoken by excruciating pain and downing more medicine until he can once again rest comfortably. More than once he wakes in the dead of night, due not to the constant muscle contractions, but instead because the apprentice perched nearby is struggling with his reading, stumbling over some new term or another and attempting to sound it out.

The first time this happens, it leaves Elrond confused and disoriented, wondering if the apprentice is trying to speak to him and his brain is simply failing to interpret the words. Eventually though, after hearing several similar sounding terms in a row, he realizes what is happening, and rasps out an answer.

“Parenchyma.”

Camaenor nearly jumps out of his skin when his charge suddenly speaks, but quickly recovers and nods his thanks before asking if he would like some water, or if he was in pain. Elrond decides then that the boy will make a good healer, someday, and resolves to help him study during his precious moments of wakefulness and clarity. It is the least he can do.

He loses track of how many days and nights he’s been bedridden, knowing only that it has been long enough for him to grow tired of it. The only break in routine comes when Erestor returns to his previous position, constructing a nest of bookwork at Elrond’s bedside to keep himself busy while he sits with him. He says nothing of the outburst that resulted in his several-days-long absence, but instead chatters on about all the things going on in the valley that he’s missed since this all started. Profit margins for new trade routes. Personal correspondences that need attention. Setbacks in planting a new section of the orchard.

His chief advisor says nothing of Celebrían’s whereabouts, and so he assumes that she has either not been informed of his current state or has chosen to remain with her parents until this has all blown over. Part of him hopes for the former. This pregnancy has already been hard enough for her, and it has only just begun. She doesn’t need the added stress.

It comes as a surprise, then, when the soft morning light brings him toward wakefulness and he is assailed not by the whole-body ache he has come to expect, but by the soft velvet of her lips on his. He sighs, thinking it must only be the remnants of some very pleasant dream, but the gentle brush of her fingertips over his eyelids tells him otherwise.

“Wake up, my love.”

A weak smile finds its way to his face, the first in days, as he slowly pries his eyes open. His silver queen is waiting for him, her soft expression framed by the wild platinum curls of her unbound hair. She kisses him again, more fiercely this time, and though his attempts at reciprocating are sloppy at best, it still fills his heart with joy.

They still cling to each other, even after Celebrían finally stops nibbling at his lower lip and stretches out on the bed beside her husband. Neither of them says a word about what happened, about what Elrond has suffered through in the past week, or about the fact that they are celebrating their reunion here instead of the quiet intimacy of their bedroom. None of it matters, though, at least not to the Peredhel.

The presence of his beloved is like a balm on his aching soul, and in her strong arms he is reminded of what it feels like to belong and be loved. He sighs, burying his nose in the tangled nest of her hair and breathing in the scent that is undeniably hers, causing her to giggle and throw her arm over his bared chest and drag him closer.

“I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

[boldlygo-boldlygoing-boldlygone]

And We Do It All Again - Chapter 7

Summary: Jim has two big problems right now. The first is that he is hopelessly in love with his First Officer and his Chief Medical Officer, and neither seems to return his feelings. The second is that he’s stuck in a time loop where his ship is destroyed and his crew killed, over and over again.

Things can never be simple for James T. Kirk, can they?

Warnings: angst, (temporary) character death, swearing, time loops, suicide attempt in a later chapter (again, it’s in a time loop so it doesn’t really work)

Pairing: McSpirk

Chapter 7 of 7

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A/N: Can also be read here on AO3!

-

Jim woke and sighed, his eyes catching the chess board, the whiskey glasses. A familiar sight by now. He thought about the confessions.

Without another thought, he rolled in his bed and grabbed his communicator. Bones and Spock arrived together, just as Jim finished pulling on his uniform.

"Jim, is all well?"

"Seriously, you better be dying. I was still asleep!"

"I need to tell you both something." Jim informed them, watching them enter the room from his seat on the bed.

"It couldn't wait until breakfast?"

"It's waited long enough." Jim looked at them both, love and a desperate need for them to know rising in him. "This may sound insane, but I promise, I am mentally and physically fine. Bones, you can even check after this, if you want." He began calmly. Both looked concerned, but he continued before they could interrupt. "I am in love with both of you. Have been for a while."

There was a long silence, a moment where they both just stared at her. Then, Spock spoke.

"Captain, I must ask, what has caused this outburst?"

Jim shrugged. "It needed to be said. I'm tired of hiding it." He was so damn tired. It had been so long and he was just so tired. It felt good to admit this. After the last few cycles, it almost felt natural.

"Jim, stop messing around."

"I'm not." He shrugged. "I'm in love with both of you. Whatever happens next is up to you guys. I don't expect anything, but I needed you to know."

"T'hy'la." The word was whispered reverently, Spock's voice shaking. Jim felt a smile tugging at his face despite his exhaustion.

Bones glanced between the two then straightened, shaking his head. "Idiots." He mumbled, turning for the door. Jim rose to stop him, but Spock beat him to it. Spock caught the doctor's wrist and pulled him back. "Leonard. Please, do not leave. I- I must confess, I have also been harboring feelings for both of you as well."

Bones didn't look convinced. "Look, you two are great for each other. You don't need me mucking it up. Just- let me go with my dignity."

"Shut up, Bones." Jim couldn't think of a time when his heart had felt so full.

"I must agree, Leonard."

"This is insane. Actually insane. You just wanna jump into a polygamous relationship? What's the crew gonna say?"

"It's the 23rd century, Bones. I think it'll be okay. And we don't need to rush into anything. Like I said, I don't expect anything. I just... I needed you to know."

"Perhaps we should continue this conversation after our respective shifts. It is nearly time for us to be on the bridge, Jim."

Jim nodded. "We can meet here at 2300, okay? We'll figure out what this all means." The promise of later felt so abstract, so unreal, but it was what they'd expect him to offer. So he offered it.

"Affirmative."

"I guess."

Jim stepped forward, love washing over him as he took the two in. Then, he grabbed Bones and pulled him into a tight hug. "I love you, Bones."

Bones returned the hug. "Love you too, kid." His voice was gruff, but Jim knew better.

In the turbolift with Spock, Jim put a hand on his First Officer's bicep. "I know touch is sacred to Vulcans, so I don't expect anything. I just want you to know I love you."

Spock looked at him, face as calm as Jim had ever seen it. "I love you as well, Jim."

It should have made him happy. Here was Spock, saying he loved him. After everything, it should have been a relief. Somehow it only managed to break his heart.

"Captain on the bridge!"

He sat through his shift, sneaking glanced at Spock (who was doing the same to him) and hating everything. It had been shockingly easy. They weren't his yet, but they were willing to talk. They were both interested.

Well, Spock was. Bones hadn't said it explicitly, but Jim could remember how he'd kissed him, how he'd gripped him. He knew Bones loved him. He suspected he'd always known, deep down. Until now, he'd just been too afraid to allow himself to hope. Of course, now knowing that didn't do him much good. Not when he'd wake tomorrow starting all over again.

"Sir, there's an unidentified ship approaching."

There it was. The worst ship in the galaxy. If only he could stop it. Steer the ship to some safe location. Maybe get aboard it and-

Get aboard it.

An idea hit him hard and he jumped up, body in motion even before his mind had fully considered this new plan. "Mr. Sulu, shields up! Mr. Spock, take the con!"

"Captain-"

"Do it, that's an order!" He called, already sprinting from the room.

He commed Scotty to meet him in the transporter room. They both arrived just as the first hit shook the ship. Jim jumped onto the platform, the seconds ticking away in his head. "Beam me onto that ship!"

"Sir, I don't know if-"

"That's an order!"

Scotty's eyes widened and he began punching buttons, clearly shocked. Jim wasn't one to bark orders like that.

He wasn't sure where he was when he landed, but he had a half-formed plan and that was further than he usually got. Jim took off, squinting at the signs and arrows directing him. As he ran, he shot any and all he came across.

"Enterprise to Captain Kirk!" There was a tightness to Spock's voice. A small shift, something most wouldn't notice. But Jim knew his first officer well. Spock was not pleased with him.

"Kirk here." Jim responded, slightly out of breath as he approached the engineering room.

"Captain, you must beam back aboard the Enterprise immediately. We do not know who is controlling this ship, but they are clearly hostile."

"Can't, Spock. Nothing else is gonna work, they're too strong. I'm taking it down from the inside."

"Captain-"

"Sorry, Spock." Jim snapped the communicator shut and shoved it back into his pocket, just in time. He sprinted into the engineering room, scanning for the most volatile pieces of machinery. It didn't take long to find them. Jim wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. He knew how the Enterprise ran. He knew what to do to keep her happy (though not as happy as Scotty kept her), but this wasn't the Enterprise. It was all cruder, more basic machinery.

Good thing he wasn't trying to keep this ship happy.

"Hey!"

Jim spun, phaser up and firing, but too late. He gasped, grabbing his side as pain seared through him. Huh. Being shot. That was certainly different. Boarding the enemy ship really had opened a world of possibilities.

Still, his aim was true and the last guard was down. He turned back to the equipment and set to work destroying anything he could get his hands on. The timer inside his head was running out. Jim counted himself lucky, then, when something exploded a few feet away from him. The force knocked him down and sent pain up his side, but he ignored it and scrambled to his feet, sprinting for the door.

"Kirk to Enterprise! Requesting immediate beam up, if you have the capability! I repeat, requesting immediate-"

It was too late. Just as he cleared the door, fire engulfed him, catching him and spitting him out. It was somehow just like being on the Enterprise as it exploded and yet so different. Briefly, he was relieved he didn't have to see Bones or Spock die again. As he was thrown out into space, he shut his eyes and let the darkness come, that thought a comfort as he slipped away. Maybe next time he'd figure out how to save them all. Maybe next time, he'd do better.

. . .

He woke slowly and repressed a sigh, keeping his eyes shut this time. Briefly, he wondered if this was a day when he stayed in bed. It was like his pain from the last day had followed him. Everything ached and he was so, so tired. Still, he should probably keep working. Getting aboard the other ship was new. Exploring that might bring new choices. He had to escape this damn loop somehow. There had to be a way. There had to be.

It was just so hard to keep going.

"Jim?"

And now he was hearing things. Great. This damn loop had finally driven him crazy. He thought repeating the same day would keep that from happening, but evidently not. Because now he was hearing Spock's voice, and-

"Jimmy, open your eyes."

And Bones. Great, just great. Like this wasn't hard enough as it was.

"We can see your vitals. We know you're awake."

Might as well get it over with. Sighing softly, Jim let his eyes fall open.

He wasn't in his room.

Immediately, he bolted up, eyes widening and head twisting, searching the area. He was in the sickbay, in a private room. Spock and Bones stood beside him. "Woah, calm down!" Bones grabbed him and forced him back. "You need to lay down!"

"I'm not in my room."

"No, you're not." Bones scowled. "What the hell were you thinking, beaming onto that ship? You're lucky Scotty had the brains to get Chekov to catch you or you'd be dead right now!"

"Chekov caught me?"

"Yeah, after that damn ship blew up and spit you out."

"Wait, the ship- Is the Enterprise okay?"

"Oh for God's sake!"

"Yes, Jim." Spock responded. "There was substantial damage, but because of your early order to put up shields and distraction aboard the other ship, we were able to avoid destruction."

"How many dead?"

"None. Thirty-six injuries, but no deaths."

No deaths. Not a single one.

"We very nearly had one." Bones scowled at Jim, jabbing a hypo into his neck. "You damn fool!"

"Ow, Bones!" Jim complained.

"Don't wanna get hypoed, don't almost get yourself killed!"

"I had to."

"No you didn't!" Bones' eyes were burning. "You pull this damn stunt right after telling us you're in love with us and you expect me to believe you had to? Bullshit!"

"Bones-"

"I was preparing my speech to convince you two to enjoy yourselves without me and then I find out you beamed onto an unknown, hostile ship? Seriously, Jim?"

"I'm sorry."

"You damn well should be! You're an idiot!"

"I am."

Bones stared at him for a long moment, then grabbed him and pulled him into a bruising kiss. "If you'd died before I had a chance to kiss you, I'd have brought you back just to kill you again myself."

"Noted." Jim let out a breathy laugh, chest bubbly with too many emotions to process. He could feel Spock's eyes on him, so he turned and raised two fingers, remembering the Vulcan way of kissing. The corner of Spock's lips turned up and he returned the gesture. Before Jim could speak, however, Spock's other hand curled around the back of Jim's neck. He pulled Jim into a human kiss. It was gentler than Bones', but still filled with emotion.

"As illogical as it is, I must agree with Leonard." He said once they'd pulled apart. "You must learn not to endanger yourself."

Jim let his eyes flutter shut and he laughed again, breathy and tired and so relieved. "I think I can do that. For you two."

Bones snorted. "Yeah right."

"Hey!"

"Lay back down. You still need to rest."

"I'm fine!"

"You were shot, you arm was nearly burned off, and you almost suffocated. Shut up and rest."

"Bones!" Jim moaned, obeying none the less. He let the doctor work, smiling fondly as he grumbled and Spock stood over his bed, watching with those sharp eyes of his. He thought about explaining his actions. Telling them about the loop, about being stuck going through the same day over and over. Giving them the highlights of his experience. But then Spock's fingers pressed rest lightly against his wrist and Bones' hands lingered a moment longer than necessary on his shoulder and he knew he couldn't ruin this. So he lay still and let their presences wash over him.

It was over. The nightmare was finally over. And in this moment, he didn't want to relive any of it. He'd tell them eventually. He'd explain why he'd done what he had, tell them about the highs and lows of his experience, about how much he'd seen and done and felt, but for now he just wanted to remain in the present and let himself feel loved.

And how so very loved he felt.

[charmingnines]

been thinkin’ bout your touch like - DE artfest day 31/touch starved

summary: 

or the 5 times Gavin was touch starved as hell and the 1 time he wasn't.

read below vvv

1

It really shouldn’t have been so jarring; Gavin had intended to punch RK900 in the face- that implied some level of physical contact. Still, when RK900 grabbed Gavin’s wrist mid-punch it’d felt like a shock to his system.

“Really, Detective,” RK900 drawled. “Is this how you make a good first impression?”

Gavin, struggling to free his wrist, scowled. RK900 was strong, and, strangely enough, he was warm. It was disconcerting; Gavin had always imagined androids were cold like kitchen appliances or some shit. “Let go of me, asshole,” he demanded.

RK900 tilted his head, something like amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s Nines, actually,” he said. “I want this partnership to work,” he added, grip tightening around Gavin’s wrist. Then, leaning in closely, “But trust me when I say I won’t tolerate any more stunts like this.”

RK900- Nines released Gavin’s wrist. Gavin staggered backwards. “Fuck you,” he hissed, cradling his wrist to his chest.

Nines rolled his eyes. “See you tomorrow, Detective.”

2

Gavin looked up, starting when he saw Nines. He swore the fucker made zero noise when he walked- like a fucking predator. Gavin’s gaze drifted from Nines’ annoyingly pretty face to the cup of coffee in his hand. Nines looked expectantly at Gavin.

“Do you need something?” Gavin asked.  

“You drink coffee, don’t you?” Nines asked.

“Only when I’m breathing,” Gavin said drily.  

Nines held out the cup to Gavin. “Here.”

Gavin blinked. It was late- everyone else had already left the precinct- and Gavin was exhausted. Maybe this was just a weird dream. “Is it….” Gavin trailed off. “Did you poison it?”

“No,” Nines said.

“Stupid question, you wouldn’t tell me if you did,” Gavin said, mostly to himself.

“If I was going to kill you, I’d do it much more intelligently,” Nines muttered. “Think of it as a peace offering.”

“A peace offering,” Gavin repeated. “As in peace. Between you and me.”

“As in you keep your low opinions of androids to yourself and I don’t dispose of your body where no one will ever find it,” Nines replied cheerfully.

Gavin whistled. “Poisoning and throwing my body in a river.” He raised his eyebrows. “You sure you’re a police android?”

“I didn’t say anything about a river,” Nines said. “And I believe assault is generally frowned upon under the law,” he added pointedly. Nines held out the cup again. “Coffee’s getting cold.”

Gavin reached for the cup, fingers brushing against Nines’. Gavin stilled for a second, the memory of those fingers burning a circle around his wrist resurfacing. If Nines noticed he didn’t comment, just watched unblinkingly as Gavin shook himself and took a sip of the coffee. Of course, it was perfect. Fucking bastard, Gavin thought.

3

Gavin drummed his fingers on his desk, Nines hovering over his shoulder. “If we can just place this fucker-”

“In the room where the first shot was fired-”

“I know it’s his prints on the gun-”

“His vitals were all over the place when we questioned him-”

“Do you think you could-”

“What language are they speaking?” Tina whispered loudly from where she was leaning against Chris’ desk.

“Couldn’t tell you,” Chris responded.

Gavin and Nines flipped the two off in unison, not looking away from Gavin’s terminal. “So you can check the security footage from the surrounding area?” Gavin asked.

“I think so,” Nines said. “May I…?”

Gavin shifted his desk chair slightly to the side. “Be my guest.”

Nines leaned down, arm pressing against Gavin’s. Gavin tensed- the contact enough to break him out of his case-nearly-solved high. Gavin glanced at Nines out of the corner of his eye; he seemed intently focused on Gavin’s terminal. Gavin could’ve easily moved away but he didn’t. If I move, I might break Nines’ concentration, he thought. Or worse, Nines might think I’m back on my anti-android bullshit.

Nines leaned in closer, enough that Gavin could’ve counted his eyelashes if he wanted to.  Or maybe, a little voice said, you’re not moving away because you don’t want to.

“Got him,” Nines said, keeping Gavin from dwelling too long on that thought. Nines zoomed in on a security footage frame and stepped back.

“Fuck yes,” Gavin said mildly, trying to keep the strange swell of disappointment in his chest at bay.

4

Some crazy fucker iced off his mind had stabbed Gavin then fled the scene. Nines hadn’t taken off after the guy like Gavin had expected. Rather, Nines had knelt down next to Gavin as he swore up a storm and started playing doctor. Gavin grit his teeth as Nines ripped the knife out of thigh, paling as blood started to gush from the wound.

“Hey,” Nines said quietly, but firmly. “Don’t look.”

“The fuck else am I s’posed to look at?” Gavin snapped.

Nines spared Gavin a withering glance, one eyebrow raised. “Look at me.”

Gavin complied without argument, maybe because he’d lost too much blood, maybe because it wasn’t such a hard request to follow. Gavin drank in Nines’ expression, the barest crease between his brows, the firm set of mouth, all of his focus on wrapping the strips he’d ripped off of his shirt tightly around Gavin’s wound.

“It’s not as good as stitches, but the ambulance will be here soon,” Nines said.

Gavin nodded, blurring gaze drifting back down to his thigh, the memory of Nines’ hands on him distracting him from the pain.

5

Gavin jerked awake in his desk chair, disoriented and breathing heavily. Flashes of his nightmare ran through his mind, his bloodied knuckles and the coldness of the snow seeping into his clothes. His eyes darted around the room- surprised to find the precinct and not his room, dimly lit by his desk light and Nines-

“-you alright? Gavin?”

Gavin shook his head, not sure how long Nines had been talking to him. Gavin opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. He clenched his shaking hands into fists and closed his eyes, trying to calm down.

He opened them to find Nines kneeling down in front of him, hands over Gavin’s. “You’re okay,” Nines murmured. “Everything’s okay, just breathe.”

Easier said than done, Gavin thought. Still, the touching helped him feel more grounded, eased some of the tightness in his chest. He got a hold of his breathing and slowly felt the tension leave his body. Nines’ concerned gaze hadn’t left Gavin’s face for a second.

“I’m okay,” Gavin said, voice hoarse.

“Your heart is still racing,” Nines said, still holding onto Gavin’s hands.

Not for the reason you think, Gavin almost said.

Tentatively, Nines asked, “Does this happen often?”

Gavin’s bitter laugh was answer enough.

“How do you get any sleep?” Nines asked, with more feeling than his usual ‘human bodies are ridiculous’ voice.

“I don’t,” Gavin said. “I get by on a few hours and a shit-ton of coffee.”

“What a bunch of shit,” Nines said, surprising a laugh out of Gavin. That seemed to convinced Nines he could let go of Gavin’s hands. Nines stood up. “You should get home. It’s late.”

Gavin stood up. “I-” he started.

Nines looked over at him.

“Never mind,” Gavin said, mentally cursing himself. “G’night, Nines.”

“Goodnight, Gavin.”  

+1

Gavin couldn’t say it before, but he could say it now. I love you. Said sleepily, when Nines pressed a mug of coffee into his hand in the early morning. Muffled into Nines’ chest, their arms wrapped around each other. Murmured between kisses Gavin planted on Nines’ neck, along his jaw, on his mouth.

“I love you,” Gavin said, lying back against Nines’ chest, hands intertwined.

Nines wrapped his other arm around Gavin, holding him close. Gavin could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “I know.”

[kittinoir]

Echoes of You Ch. 22

Read on Ao3

Chat Noir was exhausted, but cautiously optimistic. 

The city was near-silent beneath him as he cut a path towards the Eiffel Tower, as though every Parisian were holding their breath. The clock on his baton told him he had just under half an hour to make it there, but he wasn’t worried. Even if he was a few minutes late, Felix and Chloe wouldn’t be facing Hawkmoth alone.

He glanced behind him, searching the shadows, but they remained empty. Maybe, he thought, she just wasn’t coming.

Marinette’s balcony had been his final stop that night. The light had been on, but the room had been empty. He’d been disappointed, but hope had urged him to leave the mouse Miraculous and the pink rose on her desk. It wasn’t half the apology he’d wanted to give her, but it would have to do until he had an opportunity to talk with her. He hoped it would be enough for the time being.

But for now, he needed to focus. He hadn’t let himself dwell on the situation beyond what he’d told the others because it was too overwhelming, and none of it was guaranteed, but… if it went right, if they were successful, then everything would change. The world would come a little bit back into balance.

Adrenaline burst through Chat Noir’s system as the Eiffel Tower came into view. Though devoid of any activity, very light on it was lit, as though to give them their best advantage. 

He stopped short of the Tower itself, angling instead for the Trocadero Gardens across the Seine. He landed silently on the steps where Felix had instructed they meet, and was hardly surprised when his cousin grabbed him roughly by the arm, yanking him into a deep shadow.

“Where have you been?” Felix demanded, releasing him with a little shove. 

“I’ve been running recruitment,” Chat Noir said with a grin. “And speaking of, I’m going to need Trixx.”

“Trixx?” Felix unconsciously wrapped a hand around the pendent at his throat. “Adrien, I’m sorry I didn’t wait for you, but you can’t seriously mean - ”

“Nothing like that,” Chat Noir cut his cousin off. “He just belongs with someone else - but I’m not leaving you defenceless by any means.” Chat Noir reached into the bag at his hip, pulling out the Miraculous from the box. 

Felix hesitated, staring at the little box in Chat Noir’s palm.

“You’re really giving me one?” he asked. Despite everything, Chat Noir realized his cousin really expected to, at the very least, punish him for his previous stunt.

“I really am,” Chat Noir said. “You did good here, Felix. No one’s perfect; you deserve the same chance Chloé got. Will you take it?”

For once, Felix actually smiled. “Trixx, let’s rest.”

The kwami spiralled out of the necklace, coming to rest in Felix’s palm. He seized on the snap peas Felix had produced and scarfed them down. He continued to eat even as Felix removed the necklace and picked up the new box.

“Hey, Trixx,” Chat Noir said, accepting the necklace. “Ready to play with an old friend?”

“You found her then?” Trixx asked, drifting towards his Miraculous.

Chat Noir hid a wince. “Not yet. It’s still work in progress. Hopefully after tonight it’ll be safe enough to try.”

They both winced at the burst of yellow light as Felix opened the lid of the new box.

“Greetings, my King!” Pollen rose gracefully out of their box, executing a bow as they went. “I’m Pollen of the Bee Miraculous; I grant the power of subjugation. To activate the Miraculous, simply say ‘Buzz on’.”

“This is going to raise a lot of questions,” Felix muttered as he slid the comb into his hair, “But…thank you.”

“You’ve earned it,” Chat Noir said simply. “Remember the time limit.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “How could I forget? Alright, get going. Remember to wait for the signal.”

“Got it,” Chat Noir said. “Rena Rouge will take care of your illusion. See you out there.”

Chat Noir left, heading for the second meeting spot he’d arranged that night as a yellow flash briefly lit the shadows of the Trocadero. 

“Carapace?”

A voice drifted from the shadows. “Over her, du - Chat Noir.”

Chat Noir could make out a dozen forms among the dark struts of the Eiffel Tower, all talking quietly. The multitude of colours were muted in the night, but what they were was unmistakable.

“Alya?” he asked, stopping beside his friend.

“Right here,” she said, stepping up beside Carapace.

Chat Noir held out the box. “Ready?”

“So ready,” she said quietly. He’d never seen her quiet before, but he didn’t think he was imagining the glistening of her eyes as she took the Miraculous. “I never thought I’d ever get to do this again.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Chat Noir warned. “But tonight we need all hands on deck.”

“I understand,” Alya said quickly. “I just…I didn’t know last time would be the last time. Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t have anyone else with me,” Chat Noir said. He meant it, too. His Lady had chosen these people - well, most of them. They all loved her almost as much as he did. Even though she wasn’t there, it was almost like having her unbreakable spirit with them. 

“I see the gang’s all here,” Red said, dropping in beside him.

“Almost,” Chat Noir admitted. He couldn’t help a glance over his shoulder, as though she might still show up. 

“It’s interesting,” Red mused, glancing over their team mates. “Almost the entirety of Mme. Bustier’s class from Francois Dupont High School - with two notable exceptions.”

Chat Noir stiffened. No. No way. “Marinette might show up yet,” he said as his heart began to pound.

“She’s not who I’m interested in,” Red said, leaning in. “It’s you - Adrien.”

Chat Noir stifled a frustrated sigh. “This is unbelievable.”

Red actually scoffed. “It’s hardly rocket science. You haven’t exactly been subtle.”

“You of all people know you can’t give a Miraculous away to just any one,” he said. “They’re too dangerous.”

Her wince was barely noticeably. “You just better hope no one else notices the pattern, Adrichat,” she whispered. 

“Are you ready for this?” he asked, deciding it was best to move on to other topics.

“Yeah,” Red said after a moment. She turned to look out over the city, crossing her arms against an invisible chill she never could have felt through the suit. “I am, but…it doesn’t feel right to do this without her.”

A hint of pain and regret twisted through Chat Noir’s gut, but he couldn’t let it hurt him, not here, not now. “I know,” he agreed. “But it’s the only way to get her back.”

“You know how to restore her memory then?” she asked. She glanced back at him but he avoided her gaze.

“I have a few theories,” Chat Noir said, but he didn’t elaborate. “Let’s get through tonight first.”

“I’ll help you, you know,” Red said. “I… everyone knows how Chat Noir feels about Ladybug. I know you must be missing her. Besides,” she grinned, “I’ve gotta get rid of this kwami; she won’t eat anything but the best pastries in Paris. And I thought I was fussy.”

Beneath them, one of the lamps surrounding the plaza abruptly flickered out. Chat Noir felt the small hairs on the back of his neck stiffen.

“It’s time.”

Red nodded. “See you on the other side.”

Chat Noir saluted her and made his way to the darkest shadow in the structure where Rena Rouge was waiting for him. It deepened as another lamp went out. He felt more than he saw her shudder as he landed.

“I’ve dreamed of punching Hawkmoth right in the face,” she whispered, “But this…”

“It feels like a trap,” Chat Noir admitted. 

“Yeah.”

“It may be.” He stifled his frustration. “We have no way of knowing. Improvisation’s always been my stronger suit.” Even so, he’d done all he could to prepare.

Nothing, however, could prepare him for what he saw seconds later in the plaza.

It was the most stunningly beautiful, horrific akuma he’d ever seen in his life. Worse, he knew her.

“…Marinette?”

He recognized the gown, and in a terrible blinding flash, he realized it hadn’t been on the mannequin when he’d dropped by her place. Now he knew why. 

It wasn’t the project she’d been building over the past past couple of weeks; instead of black, the fabric had turned a brilliant, violent red. Black edging lined the silhouette. The hem, which had once flared out into a dramatic train, was in ashy tatters. Her hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders, longer and darker than he’d ever seen it before. The top half had been pulled back into a bun, the only ornamentation a hair stick decorated in midnight black flowers. Her skin was so pale she looked like a spectre. Her eyes had gone completely black.

All Chat noir could do was stare. “How…did this…how…”

“Oh, Marinette.”

He whipped to Rena Rouge. She, too, was staring at the figure in the plaza, sadness etched in her features.

“I tried to warn her,” she said. “Anyone can be akumatized.”

Nothing made sense. He couldn’t make it make sense. Rena Rouge wasn’t <em>wrong</em>, but Marinette was the strongest person he knew. Sure, she could get upset like anyone, but she always seemed to be able to quickly get her emotions under control.

“Warn her?” he managed. His gaze had wandered back to the akuma. He couldn’t look away. It was like seeing a ghost. “Why did she need warning?”

“I don’t really know,” Rena Rouge said as another light flickered out. “A few months ago we were talking on the phone. She was really freaked out. She said there were these…gaps? She couldn’t remember anything about Hawkmoth, or you and Ladybug. It was so weird, but after we talked about it, she seemed to forget that she forgot. She never brought it up again. Maybe I should have.”

Chat Noir couldn’t breathe. As he stared at the girl in the plaza, a thousand little puzzle pieces fell into place.

<em> ‘You love that girl’.</em>

Plagg’s words were like a bullet to the chest. His kwami had tried to tell him in the only way he could. He couldn’t believe he’d missed it.

<em> ‘I think something’s wrong…I’m having trouble…’</em> Remembering.

That was what she was going to tell him all those months ago. It had always been her, right in front of him this whole time. The reason she’d been so sure of her plan. His Lady…Marinette…the reason he’d been so confused about his feelings for both of them was because…

“Marinette is Ladybug.”

Beside him, Rena Rouge stiffened, and then sighed a little laugh. “Of course. Of course she is. Do I even want to ask how we ended up here?”

“No,” Chat Noir whispered through cold lips. “No, you really don’t.”

“But…then this means you’re going to have to fight her.”

“No,” Chat Noir said as fury finally ignited, burning away everything else. “I’m going to have to save her.” Adrenaline made his eyes fairly glow. “And then I’m going to make Hawkmoth pay for what he’s done to her.” 

For everything they’d sacrificed. For every sleepless night and broken heart and stolen kiss. For everything they might never get back. 

Felix was right; Hawkmoth had never played by the rules. This time, he’d crossed a line.

And Chat Noir was ready to get his claws dirty. 

[reading-hub]

BATMAN VILLIANS - Calling them Daddy/Mommy in a non-sexual situation:

Ft. Bane, Poison Ivy, Mad Hatter, Two Face, & Killer Croc

BANE

It was during your private self defense classes with Bane. You thought it’d be piece of cake. There’s plenty of women taking classes in order to defend themselves walking alone during such dark nights. Banes’ idea of self defense classes was that, cranked up to 100.10%.

You were sweating bullets, body feeling numb, and all you wanted was the sweet release of death.

Bane, seeing you face planted on training mat, he lifted you to sit up with those big hands of his like you barely weigh anything.

Your face got droopy from exhaustion, your shoulders could barely hold you to sit up straight, making your upper body rock back in forth.

“Can you stand?” His deep accent brought you back from semi day dreaming. Your head lolled back dramatically and responded in the most childish-pouty way, “No...!” His eyes scanned your state of body at that moment. Was he judging you??

Before you could figure out what he was doing eyeing you like that, he stood tall and was about to walk off. Until you pushed your body back on the mat, both hands barely grasped his ankles but he stopped moving. Good.

“Wait—! Daddy help me up!” Pause. What just slipped from your mouth just now?

You froze, making it easier for Bane to lift his foot up, then again, he could’ve done anytime he wanted. His knees bent down to your ground level, his finger pushes away a strand of hair from your face. You could barely register what was going on. You suddenly yelped in surprise as Bane lifted your whole body close to him, walking out the training room with him.

POISON IVY

You felt embarrassed afterwards. It was like that one time when you accidentally called your teacher ‘Mom’; everyone had a good laugh, it was overall embarrassing for one whole day, and it rests in the back of your mind for the rest of your adult life.

You and Ivy were very good friends. You honestly don’t know how this weird friendship came to be. You told her about some of the small plants you have at in apartment, shyly admitting that you’ve even given said plants cute nicknames.

The next thing you know, you’re visiting her tropical lair once a week, heck, sometimes you just spend the night there during weekends.

You felt like you can talk about anything with her. There was something about the way she spoke to you, like you mattered. It flattered you really. Insecurities that you’re afraid to tell to your own parents, you’ve told her. Deep repressed thoughts and feelings you have that you would never say openly, she’s listened to.

It was getting late, you rambled on to her once again and you didn’t even notice how dark it was outside. You shifted awkwardly, wanting to say something. Before Ivy could notice, you blurted out,

“Mommy, is it okay if sleep here tonight?” Ivy looked at you at that moment with a fluttering gaze. The best thing you could do to make this less awkward was laugh nervously, in the hopes of her laughing too. But she didn’t, she just stared at you. She gave the most faint smile she could make to you, “It is late, if you’re lucky, you might end up sleeping next to me tonight.”

Heart just sank. Exe.has stopped working.

MAD HATTER

It was quiet, too quiet. Even being in the back of Mad Hatter’s hat shop, it was getting too boring. Jervis was preparing another tea party for tomorrow night. Said it will be a night to remember, especially with you by his side.

You offered to help in anyway you could. Perhaps you could score some extra scones for going to such lengths, and besides, Jervis just looked the cutest when he was concentrated on a certain task.

While people like Gothem citizens always poked fun on how short he was, you found him to be unique and partnership material all the more. Even if he gets small tantrums when things aren’t going his way, or that one time when he bitch slapped you after refusing to put on that itchy blonde wig and small blue dress for him. Looking back you’ve should’ve known better.

You helped him organize any tea cups and utensils that would be needed during the tea party. Then, something caught your eye, “Should I wash these tea cups for the guests, Daddy?” you coughed with embarrassment and cringe. “They...look pretty dirty..”

Jervis came to your side immediately after, his hand placed onto your own gently. “No, no, my dear, use the cloth I gave you instead.” He suggested. Did he not hear what you just addressed him as???

Before you could sigh in relief from that embarrassing stunt you pulled, he spoke soon after. “While I am not your father, the thought of you addressing me in such a manner has got me all fluttering.” While his back was turned from you, you felt as though he was smiling gleefully as you continued cleaning the tea cups.

TWO FACE

Harvey wasn’t exactly ‘husband material’. His mood swings were as unpredictable as they came. He’d hold onto you tenderly, rubbing your back late at night, the next morning you’d wake up to harsh yelling and a slap in the face.

A relationship like that came with a lot of things, angry sex, tender loving, fear. And yet, you chose to stick around all the more.

It was midnight, he was lashing out once again. You couldn’t even sleep though that noise, no one could. You got up from your queen bed, go up to Harvey to see what got him so angry this time. You scoffed at yourself, what could you do if you went to his study? Calm him down?You really didn’t think this plan through.

His study was open, a small crack was left to peek inside without disturbance. Without thinking, you opened the door, the sound of creaking could be heard. You cringed at the sound, hoping to not have Harv hear, he heard.

In response, he threw a book at the door, to get you to leave him alone. The book was close to hitting you in the face, only to miss by a few inches, but the surprise caused you to yelp in fear.

“Get out, bitch! We don’t need you.” His harsh and blood curdling tone almost made you cry whenever he directed it towards you, it was hard to get use to for the most part. “This is the only way I can lash out without harming you, leave us.” His soft tone also made you cry because of how rare he spoke to you in such a way. It showed he was still sane in your eyes. No matter how many doctors in Arkham say to you otherwise...

Before you could respond back. He threw another book as a warning. “What part of leaving don’t you understand?!” His burnt hand clenched in anger. And all you could do was sit there, frozen in fear. He stormed towards you, you had a bad feeling where this was going.

Before you could process the situation you put yourself in, you flinched before him, arms covering your face so he couldn’t hit there. “Please don’t hurt me, Daddy!!” You cried out. Not even realizing what you said to him, you still braced yourself for any pain that came to a part of your body.

It was silent. You open your eyes, cautiously. “What the hell did you just say?” He was confused, trying to wrap around his head of what made you say that. You looked shocked too. Why wasn’t he hitting you? Oh no..

You opened your mouth to try to explain yourself, but Harvey beat you to it. “Don’t answer...” His still harsh tone was still present but deemed down for some reason..

“I need a drink...” His soft voice came afterwards, grabbing whatever available alcohol was lying around in his study right now. You just sat there, eyes wide like a deer in front of headlights. You should probably sleep now.

KILLER CROC

You honestly thought that Arkham was basically sending you to your death whenever they decided to send you to bring his meals.

If only they knew that sending a decently attractive human to his lair, would cause some disturbances. Especially a giant crocodile man who hasn’t experience intimacy in quite a long time.

“Waylon! I’ve come to bring your meal for tonight!” You shouted. “Don’t try and eat the hand that feeds you.” You said under your breath.

“Bring it here and I won’t!” The sudden jumpscare from him, shook you to your very core. Shook was an understatement, though. “Waylon, that isn’t funny. It really scared me.” You held onto your chest, trying to compose yourself.

You gave him his scraps food through a small hole that was similar to a dog door, making easier for anyone to transfer Croc’s food without the fear your hand getting chewed up.

Croc smelled and inspected the food for a while, similar to a wild animal, making sure there wasn’t any sedatives mixed in his food this time. Before he could make the decision of eating, “Don’t worry, no medicine was put in it.” You just had to open your mouth, now he’s really not gonna eat it!! Damn it.

“I don’t want it anyway. Take it back!” He commanded you. No, you weren’t gonna take this. “No Waylon, I can’t do that.” You rejected him. Maybe you were too harsh sounding...No! He needs to learn that using fear to bully someone into submission is not gonna work this time!

“Gett’n too confident with me being behind this cell.” Cheeky. He’s trying to break you when your trying to stand up for yourself.

“Don’t get me wrong, Waylon, you terrify me to my very core. But I’m not gonna stand here and be walked all over.” Wow, you’re really proud of yourself right now.

He was silent, time to hook him in! “Come on, Daddy, eat your scraps, pleeease...” Except for that. You were not proud of yourself anymore. Oh shi—

He chuckled loudly, you swore his whole cell and where you were standing, was vibrating from his loud excessive laughing. It was embarrassing.

“Shut up!” Your voice was too meek compared to his loud chuckles escaping him. “Now that was funny, lunch lady.”

You stormed off, not taking the food with you. Oh well, hopefully all that laughing got him to eat his food. Spoiler: it did :)

[mezzomercury]

I Was Born to Love You (Rami Malek x Reader)

A/N: Just a one-shot I wrote for @ramibaby a while ago.

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst

Warnings: Mentions of Alcohol, Panic/Anxiety Attack

*****************

After a very long awards season and the overwhelming amount of success your boyfriend Rami had, things were finally starting to go back to normal, or at least as normal as they could be. Occasionally, the two of you would be spotted by fans, had selfies requested, or simply received compliments and congratulatory remarks by strangers, but you were still going to work, going grocery shopping, and other tasks that seemed relatively mundane compared to the life you had two weeks ago. Rami was back filming Mr. Robot and since you both lived in New York City, you could still see him everyday and carry on as a regular couple.

Unfortunately, this newfound attention and scrutiny would sometimes get to you and make you feel uncomfortable. Although Rami was used to public exposure and criticisms, you were still getting accustomed to dating someone who was now considered an A-List actor. While some fans were positive towards you, there were always a few who made you feel insecure. Now and then you would receive dirty looks from young women on the subway who saw you and Rami together. You could sometimes hear them say things like, “She doesn’t deserve him” or “What does he see in her? She’s not even a celebrity. What does she even do?” and while you tried to ignore it, some comments really cut you to the core. Even some of your co-workers would talk about you when you were still in earshot of them, commenting on your Oscar dress or how you kept nervously holding his hand when you two walked the red carpet. You couldn’t even escape this type of scrutiny at your own workplace, somewhere, up until recently, that you could remain a regular person and keep your privacy. Now, everything was out in the open, it seems, and you couldn’t control what people knew about you.

Days and days of this unnecessary stress went by, and it started to make you feel exhausted. You had difficulty trying to take care of yourself while Rami was filming, and you barely ate or slept, and only left your apartment to go to work or when it was absolutely necessary. Luckily, the cast and crew of Mr. Robot had an official day off from filming tomorrow, so Rami vowed that he would be yours for the entire day. “We’ll do whatever you want, baby. Just the two of us. Nothing is more important to me than you are.” he told you earlier today before he left the apartment. He was getting suspicious that all of this new fame was taking a toll on you both physically and mentally, but you hadn’t yet confessed it to him, as you were afraid your anxieties would pass onto him. He had enough on his plate already and you didn’t want to be a burden on him.

The day slowly passed, and you found yourself alone in your apartment at around 7pm, pouring yourself a glass of white wine and re-watching your favorite show on Netflix, although you weren’t paying complete attention to it. Rami wouldn’t be home until late, as he had a night shoot near Coney Island, and it would take him a while to get home after that had finished. Time seemed to pass in an utterly slow manner, but the bottle of pinot grigio that you had stored in the refrigerator seemed to have the opposite effect, as you drank all of it in less than two hours out of sheer boredom. While you were on your final glass, in a moment of self-deprecation and curiosity, you pulled out your laptop and typed in your name on Google search. Images and random articles about your relationship with Rami immediately popped up, and you slowly analyzed as many as you could without your head hurting, as you were moderately tipsy from drinking on an empty stomach. Tears involuntarily started streaming from your eyes as you read mini articles on tabloid websites with hurtful headlines like, “Y/N: Rami’s newest publicity stunt?” or “Don’t worry, Rami Malek lovers, he won’t be taken for long.” You even found yourself reading hurtful comments on your Instagram photos that you didn’t dare to look at until now. Finally, your brain had enough and you felt like something inside you snapped, as you rolled off the couch and started bawling while curled up in a fetal position. You felt so helpless and defeated, and to top it all off, your head was simultaneously spinning and aching.

That’s how Rami found you when he came home not too long after your outburst. He didn’t even lock the door behind him or put down his things when he walked in, for he saw you on the floor and immediately ran to you, kneeling to the floor, scooping you up into his arms and rocking you back and forth like a baby. You barely registered him coming in until you felt his warm touch and the gentle kisses he left on your forehead. You whimpered softly at the intimate contact between the two of you, and he responded by whispering in your ear, “I’m right here, baby doll. I’ve got you now.” He pulled back a wisp of your hair and winced when he saw a small bruise on your temple, undoubtedly caused from you falling and hitting your head when you rolled off the couch. You were too anxious and beside yourself to even process when it happened. You didn’t even feel the pain at first because you were hurting so much on the inside. Rami kissed the bruise as gently as he could before taking one of the throw blankets you tossed aside earlier and wrapped you in it, then picking you up and sitting on the couch with you in his arms, still rocking you and peppering your face with tiny kisses.

You tried to speak. You tried to explain what happened, but it took extra effort to breathe and form a coherent sentence, for every time you tried to inhale and speak, you felt these small but uncomfortable hiccup sensations in your chest. Rami noticed how difficult it was and quickly intervened, “Babe, remember those breathing exercises.” and started counting to five as you slowly inhaled and exhaled accordingly, with him starting to synchronize his breaths with yours once you started getting the hang of it. A few minutes passed, and when you were breathing normally, he stopped and waited patiently for you to say something, all while holding your hand and looking intently into your eyes.

“I-I’m starting to think…...I’m not good enough for you.” you slowly muttered, which caused Rami’s facial expression to rapidly change and his eyes to widen with even more concern. “Hey hey hey hey, what makes you think that?” he responded, trying not to upset you more, therefore compensating by pulling you into a tight hug and rubbing your back. When you began to answer him, he pulled back and looked intently at you again, but still keeping the physical contact by cupping your face with his hands. “I’ve heard people talk, and what if they’re right? What if I’m not enough for you? Hell, I’m not even someone of any importance.” you replied, to which his eyes softened and you thought he might start weeping himself. There was a moment of silence before Rami looked back at your and continued holding your face, brushing away your tears with both his thumbs, and softly confessed to you, “Y/N L/N, you are the love of my life. Everything I am, everything I have, is yours, now and forever. I cannot imagine a life without you. I want us to settle down, get married, have children that take after their beautiful mother. I want to grow old with you and want to be with you until my heart stops beating. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. They don’t see you the way that I do. I love you with every single beat of my heart, and that’s all that matters.” 

You were so overwhelmed in a very joyful way that you felt like bursting into tears again, but Rami interrupted your reaction by placing a soft kiss on your lips that increased to something extremely passionate, but still gentle, within seconds. You never experienced someone kissing you like this before, and it was the type of kiss that made your head spin, though completely unrelated from the wine you consumed and the bruise from hitting your head. When he regrettably broke this moment, he rested your forehead against yours and smiled as you sighed contently. “And guess what?” he questioned you in a playful manner, to which you replied with the obvious “What?”. “My day off has already started,” he continued, “so I’m all yours for the next….umm….thirty hours or so. What say we do the first thing that was on our list of plans?” You chuckled and nodded, starting to get excited for what that plan was.

Before you knew it, Rami pulled you up to your feet and checking that you were stable enough to stand on your own. “But first, you need some water. I can’t have the woman of my dreams dying from dehydration, now can I?” he joked before running to the kitchen and coming back with a tall glass of water. He gently guided the glass to your lips and watched carefully as you drank, feeling the cold liquid quench your thirst and made the throbbing in your head feel slightly less. When you finished, he took the glass and put it down on the coffee table, then scooping you up into his arms bridal style, which made you yelp and giggle, as he carried you to the bathroom. Once there, Rami set you down again and turned on the water in the bathtub, running his hand under the faucet to make sure that the water was warm enough before adding a small bit of lavender bubble bath soap to the tub once there was a substantial amount of water needed. You started slowly removing your clothes, that is until Rami stopped you and whispered, “Allow me.” before you gave him your consent and he started to gradually undress you. Almost any other man would see this as the perfect opportunity to ravish your body right then and there, but this was Rami Malek. He was kind and caring, and knew that you were too sensitive to even think of anything like that right now. You were his main priority, and the thought of anything more sexual happening in this moment didn’t even occur to him in the slightest.

Once Rami got you into the bathtub, he undressed and stepped in to join you, placing himself behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist while kissing your neck. Your whole body started to relax at the combination of the warm water, his soft touch, and the sound of him gently humming into your ear. You leaned back into him as he began to sensually wash every part of your body and covering it with the bubbles that seemed to endlessly multiply, being careful not to spill any on the bathroom floor. There was almost complete silence around you, save for the water splashing around the tub and Rami’s deep hums that seemed to vibrate throughout your body. You accidentally let out a moan as he started to massage the scalp of your hair with shampoo, which caused him to grin and kiss your cheek as he kept running his fingers through your hair. “Are you sure you have the entire day off tomorrow? It sounds too good to be true.” you suddenly asked him, which earned you a chuckle and another kiss to your neck. “It’s true, honey. You can thank SAG-AFTRA and their union regulations for that.” he cheekily replied as he returned to massaging your head, “I’ll do anything you want. Just add it to our list.” You grinned and playfully splashed him in response and making him laugh and pulling you closer.

“Rami, will you always love me?”

“Y/N, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. It would be a crime not to always love you.”

[sarcasticdebate]

after all we’ve endured

Relationship: Emori/John Murphy

Rating: E (... its makeup sex)

Summary: Emori has quickly learned that survival and life on Sanctum are very different than they had been on Earth. It’s good to return to something familiar. Even after so much time. 

[Post 6.03]

“Been a long time since we shared a bed.”

[AO3]

Night on Sanctum isn’t like night on Earth. The sky never quite fades to black like it’s supposed to. Instead it lingers in a deep shade of violet from the effects of two suns. Stars still break through the sky but they’re different from the ones Emori has known all her life. She knows it’s because they are hundreds of thousands of miles from the planet she was born on, but the unfamiliar lights overhead still leave Emori in a state of frightened awe. There’s no north star here, and the possibility of getting lost sits heavy on her mind. 

Some things aren’t so different though, apparently the days are only twenty seven minutes longer than on Earth, and Sanctum’s people have similar nightly routines. By anyone’s standards it’s well past the time to be in bed at this late hour. 

“Hey,” Emori says, shifting her gaze back to John after taking her fill of the view from the open window. “We should go to bed.” 

John’s spent most of the day brooding and Emori can’t blame him, he’d been dead for a couple of minutes this morning. The red in his eyes and the sudden gauntness of his face make it impossible to deny. 

“I’m not tired,” John replies and Emori has to refrain from rolling her eyes. He said that all the time on the Ring, during weeks filled with pacing in anxious circles in the dead of night followed by long days where he would do nothing but lie in bed. Emori has to remind herself that this is different. He’d been dead this morning. 

“I was unconscious most of the day, you’ll remember.” He reminds her too, as if she could forget. She can still feel the claminess of his skin under her palm, feels her heart spike with guilt every time her eyes catch on the bandage across his arm.  She reaches out to touch his hand, to confirm he’s warm now. Maybe she’s the one who needs sleep more. 

“Well there’s no point in sitting here in the dark,” she tries. Everyone else has cleared out to the rooms upstairs, and he stopped drinking an hour ago, too lazy to pour for himself. 

John lets his gaze rest on their held hands for a long moment before his eyes rise to meet hers and he offers a tight-lipped smile and stunted nod. 

He grunts as he stands, like someone twice his actual age, and slings his arm heavily over her shoulders as they make their way towards the stairs. 

“Are you still drunk?” 

“I’m not drunk, ‘Mori” John says, lying either to himself or her. Then straightening a bit when he realizes he gave himself away with the use of the nickname. “Maybe a little,” he admits, “I just don’t wanna dream.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” She offers for the second time that day. Curiosity and worry have been burning inside since he woke up but she won’t push him. 

“Not yet,” he says, an improvement from the previous horrified ‘no’ of the afternoon. They make it up the stairs without any stumbles and trudge to the end of the hallway, all the other rooms already claimed. 

Under normal circumstances Emori would scout out the room given to them by these strangers, but it’s small, with a narrow bed as the only notable furnishing, and she’s just exhausted enough not to care. 

John flops onto the bed in a way that’s unsuitable for someone claiming not to be tired, but Emori knows him better than himself sometimes so she’s not surprised. He kicks off his boots carelessly. 

“Are you gonna stay here tonigh’?” The tiredness is creeping into his voice now. Emori shrugs off her jacket, lets it hang on the doorknob and sets her boots next to John’s. 

“Of course I am. Scooch over.” 

The bed is still narrow as she lies on it, but Emori thinks it is a poor attempt form Sanctum to get them to spend their nights apart. She molds her body to curl next to John’s and they fit. 

“Didn’t know if you would,” John admits to the ceiling, both of his arms still too injured to hold his weight on one side. Confusion rises above Emori’s exhaustion. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

John’s eyes fall closed but Emori doesn’t want to escape from this conversation, from whatever’s eating at him, she knows it will only cause problems. She tugs on his sleeve and his eyes open and turn to look at her. Bloodshot still, but softer too.

“Been a long time since we shared a bed.” 

It has been. Six months of clenching her blanket tight to herself to make up for the loss of familiar body heat as she tried to sleep, then a mess of circumstance and feelings that led to their bodies close but nowhere near touching as they shared a cave with a mass murderer. One hundred and twenty five years have passed since then and Emori would love to make a joke about the century they slept through, but it’s impossible to do so without thinking of Harper and Monty and things not to be joked about. 

“Yeah,” Emori agrees, something tight festering in her chest. It’s been even longer since she held him like this in their bed and he doesn’t smell like she remembers. It makes her sad. 

She tilts her head up to look at him and sees so many different layers of pain pile on his face, like snow collecting on a drift that won’t ever melt. He’s drunk and lost and Emori feels the same as how she had too many times in space, totally unknowing what to do. 

But John still has ways of surprising her. 

“You know I’m sorry for pushing you away. For making you feel…” He drifts off, and maybe that had been part of the problem, of him not knowing what she was feeling, and her not telling him. But he meets her eyes for the first time since they’d lied down and true regret lingers in his irises. “I never, never wanted that ‘Mori.”

Her first instinct is to say, ‘I know,’ but that’s not true. She hadn’t known. 

“I didn’t want it either,” she says instead, the truth, despite the words standing opposite to both their broken hearts. But Emori knows how to fix them. “I forgive you. I already have.” She doesn’t think about if it’s too easily done, if it’s just because the Earth blew up or because he died this morning. It’s what she feels, and she won’t deny it. 

He hugs her closer, rests his forehead against the curve of her skull. “I love you.”

“I love you.” 

His breathing evens into a familiar tempo and she relaxes into his body, into the soft bed. But John’s not quite asleep yet. 

“You’re hair smells nice.” 

She laughs lightly, her hand coming to rest on top of his. 

She imagines the buzzing of a swarm in her ears before she falls asleep. 

Emori wakes slowly, in opposition to her normal habit. She hasn’t a notion of what time it is. Dawn on Sanctum is brighter than on Earth, more akin to midday. 

If she dreamed during the night she remembers nothing, but there’s a warmth in her stomach rising through her chest and settling her mind. Probably from the place John’s palm rests. 

“You awake?” John asks, turning his head so his voice drips against the shell of her ear. She hums in response. 

“You hungover?” 

“Nah,” he says, shifts a little to hug her closer, his fingertips playing with the hem of her t-shirt. “My mouth’s a little fuzzy, though.” 

“I can get you some water?” 

“No,” he says, like a child might, except there’s a thick edge to the syllable that tightens in her belly the same way the palm of his hand does to keep her close. 

Her eyes close again but she’s very awake now, she settles back fully into the bed and her stillness lets her feel her heartbeat in her chest and throat. John’s fingers are beneath her shirt now, on that soft, sometimes ticklish part of her belly. It feels so nice, and she finally no longer feels clouded and confused with emotion. 

It makes it easy to turn over and kiss him. Not soft and lingering like she maybe should have made it, but making him gasp, pressing and seeking with her tongue. 

And it's not that she missed him really. He was always there, just around the corner, hiding under the parts of him she resented, or mirrored in the eyes of the others when the seat next to hers was empty at dinner. She had missed this though. His hands and lips on her neck and chest. Had dreamed about it a few times and woken up frustrated and angry with herself. 

And it hadn't even been about the sex really, but the intimacy. Something that had ended months before they broke up. She craves it now, though. Their bodies being so close a knife couldn't slip between them. Having confidence he loves her without condition. 

She knows that their thinking is still aligned because in that moment he tugs her over his closer by her waist, fingers rucking her shirt up highso that their chests run along each other as they breathe. She threads her fingers around the back of his neck to angle his head as they share kisses, sometimes pressing them into his jaw or beneath his ear, but always returning to his mouth and the low grateful hum that passes from his lips. It might almost be called leisurely if it weren't for his hands at her lower back, keeping her steady so that their hips could stay locked together. 

He’s hard already, not surprising considering the rush of his breath, how she can feel his heartbeat through his skin. Through his clothes even. She throbs, in that place where he isn’t, like her body might be able to latch onto the emptiness. 

His hands are warmer than she remembers them being. She sighs into his mouth, the sound more desperate than she knew a sigh could be.

“You want this?” John asks, his voice the way it used to get when he was in awe of her. Under the waistband of her pants his fingertips caress her skin.   

“Yes,” she says, his shirt mangled in her grip. She thinks about what being back down on Earth had done to her. Thinks about standing next to him and seeing the confident tilt of his mouth and calculating gleam in his eye. How the want had needled in her brain and pounded in her ribcage and clenched between her thighs. And now how it pales in comparison. “I want you,” she says into the corner of his mouth.  

He says her name, the word spilling off his tongue like some secret admission and she kisses him, tongue tracing his bottom lip so she might be able to catch the feeling falling from his lips. 

His hands trace further up her back and she sits ups, rocking her hips against him before peeling her shirt and sports bra off, feeling that old presence of comfort and pride as his eyes trace over her appreciatively. 

It stands in contrast to the way her own hands hesitate at his waist. She’s never been afraid of his scars before; had liked them even, the reminder of his ability to endure. But she’s never been the cause of any of them before.  

“Hey,” he says, rests his palms over her knuckles, “Doesn’t even hurt anymore.” That can’t be quite true because they’re both careful not to stretch his arms too high as his shirt if pulled off. But he smiles when her hands find balance on his shoulders, his own spanning high on her waist and tracing the undersides of her breasts. And he’s still smiling when she leans down to kiss him and she knows he doesn’t resent her. 

Not like he could when she starts rocking against him, shifting a bit until she finds the right drag against his cock. Insistence grows fast in her as she grinds down and her lips trace down his neck to the sharp point of his collarbones. 

John rubs the sensitive place on the very lowest part of her back and then whimpers when her knees tighten on either side of his waist. His hands become frisky, tugging at her belt loops

She’s wet. She’s so wet and he’s barely touched her. She’s aching, a wound that’s healed can still hurt. Her eyelids are trembling in an effort to stay open as his hands skim over her thighs, but she manages to keep watch him touch her until he leans over and breathes hot over that one place on her jugular that makes her shiver. 

His other hand works beneath her, pressing between her shoulder blades and making her arch up to meet his mouth as he sucks a mark onto her collarbone.

Her hands begin to slide up from his hips as he moves lower. Her touch lingers where new scar tissue mars his shoulder. She traces the two circles with her thumb, will do it with her mouth later, his body is so familiar, but the bullet wounds remind her that they’re both different now, both new people. 

His thumbs on her hip bones don’t feel different, though. And neither does his breath on her inner thigh. 

The anticipation mounts in her chest and between her legs, because she knows what he's going to do next. Because she wants it. That variance of pressure on her clit before he slicks a finger inside her has her legs trembling before he even starts. 

“John.” She says his name, a half moan, a reaffirmation of where they are, who they are. 

A sound, from deep in his gut passes his lips to imprint on her skin. His breath is more hurried than she would expect, making her shiver as it ghosts across her. 

He kisses the v of her legs, soft, fleeting, as he urges her legs further apart, and she gasps despite the briefness. She thought she was too wet for slow and gentle, too wired for his touch after a century and six months to be coaxed into anything languid, but John seems to insist on it, his mouth hot and exploratory against her folds reminding her of those days in space when he’d do this for hours. She whimpers. There’s no hesitance after that, just his tongue pressed against her entrance and flicking once before licking up her center. Then he laps at her clit, light, like she knew he would. 

“Yes,” she says, unable to stop her hips from circling against his mouth. His hand finds her hip to keep her steady, and then drags down the outside of her thigh, not venturing between them like she thought. He reaches for her hand instead, interlocks their fingers even if they don’t fit in any traditional way. She holds on tight to him. 

He places a kiss where her nerves are singing and she feels the burst of pleasure it creates squirming up her spine. A choked sound falls from her lips and her eyes open halfway to see him perched between her legs, and of course he’s looking up at her. But he’s not looking at her with that focus or determination she found so attractive. Instead it’s a caring most people don’t know he has. He just loves her. 

Her eyes squeeze shut as her jaw works uselessly, her precipe suddenly so much closer. He doesn’t go any faster, just presses a little harder, tongue lapping at her clit, circling her hip bone with her thumb, and then she’s there. She cries out, her skin abuzz with pleasure and her entire body feeling both heavy and light as she clenches around nothing, muscles in her thighs tightening as they seek to press together and open wider all at once.

Words rise and die in her throat as her legs shake before a comfort begins to grow next to her heart. John’s hand is still in hers. His thumb stroking over her knuckles is what recenters her.

“I love you,” she says between pants, because she doesn’t think he’ll say it first, and she wants to hear it. “I love you.”

He steals her breath with another kiss, words mumbled against her lips, but the shape of them familiar. “I love you,” he says with his hungry mouth, arms snaked around her back. 

She clings to him for a moment, still feeling dazed and a little lovesick. It’s a good position to run her hands through his hair the way he likes, and an even better one to wrangle him onto his back in before pressing kisses to the side of his neck. 

“Emori. Emori, can we…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she breathes into his skin, reaching down to find him still hard against the slide of her palm. 

Her lips press a sort-of kiss against his forehead as she shifts up, bracing herself more firmly on her knees before sinking onto him a soft keen torn from her throat with the motion. John’s thumb strokes her cheek, his mouth open and breath hot against her chin as she starts to move against him like a wave, steady and rolling, hard and crashing at the end. The length of him in her comforts her in a way she hadn’t anticipated, enticing the burn in her belly and in her heart both. 

“Fuck, Emori, I-” John groans, his hands skittering from her waist to her ass to her thighs, nails scratching lightly, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with himself. It makes her shudder, clench around him. “God, I’m not gonna last long. Fuck.” 

His eyes close the next time she rolls her hips down, as if to prove her point. Emori moves a bit faster, tries to match the rhythm of his uneven thrusts, caught in her desire to study the vulnerability he displays right before he comes. It makes her feel warm all over, his trust, his love. She traces his jaw with her big hand, and the muscles in his throat twitch before he groans and breaks, his arms wrapping her in an embrace as she feels him warm and slick deep inside her. 

She rocks shallowly against him twice more before slipping off his lap and tucking herself into his open arms. 

“You’re amazing, really,” John says into her hair with his little satisfied smirk. The praise sparks hot in her chest as she presses closer to his heat. 

There is little innocence and not a small amount of hunger in the way his hands continue to pass over her body, and Emori is more than considering responding to the touches but she wants to linger for a moment. One where she doesn’t have to think about anything other than the way John is looking at her and the peculiarity of mornings on this moon.

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Chapter: 3/7 Word count: 2372 Summary: Now attending the university here in their hometown as he begins his Master’s, Tobirama develops a problem with falling asleep in the strangest of places. Madara, poor innocent never-deserved-any-of-this Madara, gets mistaken for a mattress one too many times. All he wanted to do was focus on his career but instead he finds himself forcibly tasked with herding his secret crush towards better sleep habits. It’s driving him up the wall.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI in the blog header!

Chapter 2: Acceptance and Denial - A Madara Special 

“Again?” Madara very much hoped everyone present could hear just how much exhaustion he was projecting in that one single word. Because he was. He was exhausted of this entire stupid game.

Tobirama shrugged, looking entirely too comfortable on his bench inside the holding cell. Asuma was holding in a fit of giggles as he unlocked the cage door and swung it open with a flourish that Madara felt was just uncalled for. He made sure to send his coworker a venomous glare before he stormed inside and took hold of Tobirama’s arm, dragging him away from the actual criminals milling around inside.

“What was it this time?” he demanded. “Another bench? Some poor old lady’s front stoop?”

“Neither. I was sleeping on the front steps of the library – quite uncomfortably, I might add.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Without looking Madara paused to shove his fist in the gut of another officer passing by when they laughed openly at the sight of Tobirama. The man was infamous around the station now. No one really bothered to try and charge him with anything but his fellow officers found a great deal of amusement in picking Tobirama up off the street wherever they happened to find him sleeping and then calling Madara in to come get him.

It was nice getting off work early so often but it was galling to know they were all laughing at him behind his back. Tobirama didn’t seem to care one way or another. All he cared about was whether or not his schoolwork came with him when he got taken in. Apparently the research he was doing for his thesis paper was more important than his reputation or the fact that Hashirama was clearly beginning to worry for him.

“Here’s the plan. I am going to take you back to your own apartment. Then you are going to lie down in your own fucking bed and sleep on an actual mattress like a regular human being. Did you get all that or do I need to break it down in to simpler sentences?”

“They shut off the heating in my apartment,” Tobirama mentioned casually. Madara paused in his steps to look at him in horror, to which he only shrugged. “My building manager says if I am never home then he might as well not waste the money since my rent is all inclusive. Apparently he doesn’t like heating empty homes.”

“He can’t do that!” Madara screeched.

“Well he did.”

“But it’s so illegal! I should – UGH! Come on.” Resuming his steps, Madara pulled Tobirama along behind him like a dog on a leash. “I’ll buy you a space heater if I have to. I’ll arrest that asshole if I have to. But you are going home to get a god damn good night’s rest!”

His own stomping footsteps seemed to echo all the more loudly in comparison to the serene way Tobirama floated along behind him but Madara was shamefully used to it so it didn’t bother him too much. Since it was clear he wouldn’t have much luck shaming Tobirama in to feeling guilty for his part in all this stupidity he kept himself reined in to just muttering darkly under his breath as he packed the younger man in to his personal car and wished he hadn’t promised Shisui that he wouldn’t take the squad car home again. The seats in his shitty sedan were much less comfortable.

The ride over to Hashirama’s was filled with bickering. Tobirama sort of wanted to go back to the library but Madara would hear nothing about it, not when the idiot clearly needed some more rest. Neither of them even bothered to suggest the apartment without heat again. Hashirama still had a bedroom set up for Tobirama to stay in when he could make it all the way passed the couch and Madara very much intended to see him tucked in to it before he left.

No one was home when they walked in – not surprising since it was the middle of the day, both occupants were still at work. Madara ignored his companion’s grumbling as they marched upstairs together and engaged in a quick staring contest at the bedroom door.

“What are you gonna do, throw me under the sheets?” Tobirama asked sarcastically.

“If I have to,” Madara snapped back. The other man paused to think of something to say to that. Evidently he couldn’t come up with anything because he ended the pause with a huff and stormed in to the room, dropping down on the mattress and pulling the blankets over himself with an irritable flourish.

“There. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Madara drawled. “Now fucking sleep. Who knows how long it will be until my fellow officers stop finding this funny and actually hit you with a charge for vagrancy? Get some rest before I pop a vein over you!”

He had to close the door quickly to avoid Tobirama’s eyebrow of judgement, pausing in the hallway to roll his eyes and then hurrying downstairs to his car so he could get back to work. His shift wasn’t over yet. If his Captain found out how much time he was spending away from work lately just to deal with this recurring problem he could get suspended or reassigned. After finally working his way off the nightshift he really didn’t want to go back to it.

Driving back to the office was too quiet now that he had no one to argue with and took too long without the squad car and the lights that got him a free pass through every stoplight. He did manage to slip back in to his desk chair just before the Captain stepped out of his office to hand out a couple new assignments. Madara let Shisui grab theirs and quietly followed along, trying not to look like he’d only just got back from an unauthorized personal errand. It earned him a funny look because he’d never been all that great of a deceiver, too emotional is his own stunted way to put much effort in to lying, but the Captain didn’t ask him any questions so he counted that one as a win.

The assignment given to them turned out to be a false alarm so Madara and his cousin spent the last half of their shift out on the streets for foot patrol. After the seventh little old lady who told him he was a sweet boy for serving his city he started to feel a little bit better, like his mood was finally turning around.

“So, tell me something,” Shisui said while they were paused on a street corner to keep an eye on some suspicious characters across the way. “Are you ever going to do something about him?”

“About who?”

“Oh, you know, that guy you have a massive crush on that keep showing up at the station.” Shisui stuck his tongue out between his teeth and grinned. Madara made sure no one was watching before he reached up and flicked that exposed tongue.

“Mind your own business,” he growled.

Shisui had to pause and flap his hands in pain, unable to soothe his tongue in any way, but when he was finally calm again he went right back to sniggering. “No way! Don’t you love your poor cousin enough to share some gossip?”

“Alright, how’s this for gossip: I’m fairly sure that was Sakura who dropped you off at work this morning, which means you did not stay at your own place last night.”

“Woah, hey, I meant gossip about you.”

“Mhm. I know you did.”

His cousin subsided with a pout which Madara echoed without realizing. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t like to do something about his feelings for Tobirama. Certainly he found the younger man fascinating, not to mention deliciously attractive, but he was all too aware that Tobirama’s views on him didn’t extend much farther than a walking hot water bottle and occasional Sibling Distracter.

A hand bopped him on the shoulder and Madara scowled, wiping off the imaginary dirt transfer.

“For real, though. You’re really not going to ask him out?” Shisui tilted his head in question. Everyone in their family knew Madara wasn’t usually the type to be hesitant about the things he wanted.

“There’s no point,” Madara huffed. “He’s not interested. Now drop the subject.”

“Alright, alright, fine. You wanna take one last swing around Central Park before heading back? I think those kids had something on them when they went in there; we should check it out at least.”

Shisui’s instincts were at least right about that. They ended up arresting two young punks for possession and calling backup on the third who tried to do a runner when he was caught selling. It took a while to get them all down to the station and make sure they all understood their rights because the two buyers were so out of their minds they hardly seemed to understand what was going on. Obviously they had been sampling the merchandise as they bought it.

Finally the kid that was selling got fed up and demanded his lawyer, at which point they were required to stop talking to him. Madara was almost grateful enough to thank his cousin when Shisui offered to stay after shift to wait for the counsel to get there. He managed to resist the urge but it was a close call.

He was just filling out the last bit of paperwork and getting ready to head home for dinner when his phone went off and he answered it without thinking, not even bothering to check the caller ID or see if it was a recognized number.

“Madara,” he grunted.

“I didn’t sleep,” Tobirama’s voice announced.

“Seriously!? I put you to bed hours ago!” When he noticed the dangerous grip he’d taken on his pencil Madara made sure to set it down carefully so he didn’t stab the paperwork he’d just spent so much time preparing.

“Well I couldn’t sleep.” If he listened hard enough he could probably hear Tobirama’s uncaring shrug. “I find an empty bed to be both cold and not soothing. I’m sure you know why I called.”

Madara dropped his face in to his free hand. “Yeah. I know.”

“Good. Then come over immediately. I’ve had an amazing increase in productivity each time I slept on top of you and I have a very important paper due soon that I would like to recreate those effects for. When should I expect you?”

“Just…ugh. I’ll pick up something to eat on the way, give me twenty minutes.”

“Acceptable.”

Tobirama hung up and Madara dropped the rest of his upper body on to the desk in defeat. He stirred when someone patted him sympathetically on the back but shook the gesture off and stood up to shoo his partner away. Getting upset about it wasn’t going to help the fact that he knew he was going to cave this easily every time Tobirama asked him to do this – and he also knew that the man had no idea the havoc and inconvenience he was causing. It just wasn’t in his nature to notice things outside of his immediate focus.

Feeling like a man walking to his own doom, Madara slumped back down to the garage and flopped back inside his sedan, heading for the nearest fast food place that sold something he could eat with one hand while driving. Technically he was breaking the law by doing so, engaging in distracted driving, but he knew the people currently on shift and he knew none of them would ever bother to pull someone over for possession of a burger.

When he arrived at Hashirama’s house for the second time that day he sat in the driveway for a couple of minutes, parked beside Mito’s stylish little compact, and let his head rest against the steering wheel while he gave himself a little pep talk.

He fully expected to find Tobirama still in bed just staring at the ceiling or to be met at the top of the stairs and dragged in to the same room he had deposited his favorite idiot in to earlier. Instead he was surprised to open the door and find two haggard eyes staring balefully at him from half a dozen feet down the hall, like a vulture lying in wait. He barely had time to strip off his jacket and belt before Tobirama had claws in his arm dragging him in to the living room.

Since there was no point in doing so he didn’t bother to offer any protests while he was shoved down on to the couch and pushed over sideways. The only reaction he offered was a sigh as he made sure he landed on his back and looked around to ensure the TV remote was close enough to reach this time.

“I can’t sleep with you every night, you know,” he grumbled. Tobirama melted over his chest like liquid human.

“Quiet, couch. You can and you will.”

Madara rolled his eyes. “Wonderful. Now I don’t even have a name.”

“Shhhhhhhh.”

He shushed because he was a smart man unwilling to incur the wrath of a fledgling mad scientist but he didn’t have to like it. Madara spent the half hour it took the other man to fall asleep himself trying to decide if it was worth asking Hashirama to interfere. Which, he thought, should have been a great indicator for how desperate this situation made him feel.

No matter what happened, he had to stay strong. This absolutely had to be the last time this happened.  

Hashirama wandered in to the room at some point, clearly with the intention of watching television, but he stopped and assumed a blank expression when he spotted them lying on his couch yet again. Madara wasn’t sure he had even realized they were both in the house.

“Is this a thing now?” he asked plaintively. Madara would have shrugged but it would have disturbed the man on top of him.

“Apparently.”

Then he dropped his head back, closed his eyes, and settled in to wait for sleep to claim him as well.

[poppibranchlover]

The Queen and the Butterfly II: The Witch’s Curse - Part 5

This story is a sequel to “The Queen and the Butterfly”.

The story: Poppy offers Branch some cupcakes with butterflies in it which turns out to be mysterious. When the two Trolls eat them, they got transformed into butterflies themselves and realize that the cupcakes were actually cursed by an evil witch! Now they must try to find the witch who made those cupcakes and get a cure to get themselves back to normal, while encountering obstacles in the process along the way.

You already seen what had happened in Part 4. Now get ready for Part 5!:

Poppy and Branch groaned with dismay as they can no longer see a blur of pink and blue in the distance.

“Awww, but we only managed to get there halfway!” Poppy said, sighing.

Branch fluttered next to her and shook his head. “Let’s face it, Poppy. Cooper’s pretty dumb! He’ll never get us to any place in Troll Village!”

“But he’s been very helpful,” said Poppy. “At least we’re safe now!”

“Yeah, but you always have to listen to me now, not him,” Branch told her. “I swear we’re going to be sick because of all the stunts he was doing!”

“Well, Cooper loves skitterboarding! Sometimes he’s very clumsy!”

“How could he be?”

“I don’t know, he’s the best Troll ever! Everytroll knows that!”

All was quiet in the forest when Poppy and Branch looked around.

“Now what?” Branch asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “We have to get to my bunker and investigate who made those cursed cupcakes! Any ideas how to get there, Poppy?”

Poppy turned away from Branch and stared at the ground, thinking. “Hmmm?”

Her antennae twitched and her wings sparkled, nearly blinding Branch again.

“Agh!” he yelped in pain. “Poppy, what’s your plan?”

“How about I scrapbook?” she suggested. “Do butterflies scrapbook?”

Branch looked stunned. “What? Butterflies don’t scrapbook! They don’t have hands!”

“Oh…” Poppy said, looking at her butterfly body. “Yeah, you’re right. So as a butterfly, I don’t scrapbook! What do I do?!”

“Maybe you just need some time to think about it for a minute,” Branch said.

Poppy paced back and forth, still racking her brain for another plan. If only she had the ability to scrapbook but butterflies can’t. She had to think of another way how to get herself and Branch to the bunker safely. They were butterflies and what would they do?

Suddenly, as if a spark of glitter burst into her mind, Poppy fluttered to Branch and exclaimed “How about we fly our way to the bunker like tiny pretty butterflies?”

“Huh?” Branch asked, alarmed. “Fly like butterflies? But Poppy, flying like this would take hours!”

“But this would work, Branch!” Poppy insisted. “We have to think like butterflies and try to make our way to the bunker as safe as possible!”

“As long as we don’t run into any more danger!” Branch replied, exasperated. He knew Poppy’s little plans would literally be a disaster! But still, he would have to trust her. “So I’m thinking this would be bad!”

“No, it’s not!” said Poppy, putting her face closer to Branch’s. “But I’m betting we can just try to do it if we work together!”

Branch glared at her. Then he fluttered closer to her face and said “Doubt it.”

Poppy let out a loud cheer and spun around in circles. “Yay! I knew you can count on me! Race me to the bunker!”

With that, she flew out of sight, leaving Branch alone.

“Poppy!” he called, fluttering after her. “Wait for me! You’re so fast!”

Poppy and Branch fluttered around the woods, their wings sparkling in the atmosphere and their hair blowing through the breeze. Poppy was flying up and down and doing loops, enjoying herself. Branch, on the other hand, tried to keep up on his blue wings but he was much slower than she was. He panted, wanting to stop for a minute, and tried keeping on flying. They looked very cute when they flew around the air. Poppy performed another loop as she flew a little faster with Branch flying right behind her.

She laughed as she saw Branch and said “Branch, can you try to do a loop? It is so fun!”

“This is so ridiculous!” he complained. “I hate how I will do that! By the way, you look more faster than I was!”

“Of course I am!” she said gratefully. “Thanks for asking me!” 

They continued flying around the trees and the bushes as the sun starts to set. Poppy flew through a field of trees and told Branch “Hey, does the sky looks as pretty as our wings?”

Branch sighed with frustration. “Argh! No! Please just keep flying to the bunker and adjust your flight level!”

“No worries, Branch! I’ll be fine!” Poppy said confidently. “All we need is a little practice!”

Branch groaned. When is this nightmare going to end?

Moments later, Poppy and Branch saw a tree laying down on the ground. Poppy rested on the trunk and whined “Awww, what happened to this poor tree?”

“It looks like someone has cut it down a few minutes ago! I don’t think we can sleep on it!”

“But we can, right?” Poppy squealed, fluttering up.

“Okay, that’s literally a bad idea!” Branch sighed.

Later, it was getting closer to sunset. Poppy led the way. She fluttered from tree to tree. Branch was right behind her.

Suddenly, there was a huge butterfly coming the other way. Yuk, it was ghastly, with a fat body and glittering wings. It squeezed past Branch, grunting and blinded him with its shimmering wings!

It was just like those rude drivers in Troll Village. King Peppy calls them road hogs.

“Sky hog!” Poppy yelled to Branch.

“Shhhh!” he shushed at her. “We don’t want the entire world to know we’re flying here!”

“But this is really fun, Branch! We’re now free as butterflies now!” she giggled, going in a spin. “We can do whatever we like!”

Once again, Branch groaned unhappily.

So much for escaping the spiderweb from the butterfly-eating spider and skating wildly with Cooper, he thought. The last place he’d expect Poppy to do right now was lead him to the bunker so they can discuss about the butterfly cupcakes they’ve eaten.

Little did he know how wrong he was!

While he was flying, he saw Poppy hovering upside down again like the time she’d done that when he was stuck in the spiderweb earlier.

“Look at me, Branch!” she cried. “I’m fluttering upside down! Can you do that too, please?!”

“Poppy, that’s enough of flying around the woods and talking to me like this!” Branch protested, impatient. “You are wasting our precious time here!”

But Poppy didn’t care. She continued flying around the woods and keep losing sight of Branch, who frantically kept trying to chase after her. He was afraid that Poppy was quite distractive at times and he comes to terms with trying to let her cooperate.

Hours passed and Poppy and Branch are still flying.

A few more hours passed and they were still flying around.

Another few more hours passed again and it was sunset.

Yep, it was definitely sunset and Poppy was still going around the forest like a free butterfly. Nearby, Branch was fluttering across the nearly-evening landscape, barely flying at all. The hot air bore down on his back. Drops of salty sweat poured down his face and his eyes were ringed with the dark circle of deep exhaustion. It felt as if he was flying for his entire life.

“Poppy,” Branch cried, his tongue sticking out with exhaustion and panting heavily. “Can we slow down now? It’s getting late!”

But Poppy felt like she wanted to do more. She couldn’t resist what being a butterfly feels like. “Come on, Branch!” she said. “Can just a few more minutes?!”

“No!” he begged. “I can’t take this anymore!”

Branch stopped going after her, looking as if he wanted to pass out. It was a long way to get to his bunker and he didn’t know if a butterfly can survive like this that way.

As soon as he saw Poppy flying out of sight again, Branch is unable to keep up much longer. Fluttering is very tiring for a cute tiny butterfly. “Poppy, why you always don’t want to listen to me?!” he grumbled to himself. “This is a very huge forest! Of course we can find a way to survive this together!”

His thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a sweet aroma. The beautiful scent came to his nose and he began sniffing the air.

What is that smell? It’s so beautiful!

Fully attracted to the scent, Branch fluttered the other way, following it. To him, that smell seemed familiar. When the aroma cleared, he saw a large field of pink flowers before him!

He sniffed and gasped happily. “Wow!”

Branch looks very happy to see this. He was gazing at a wonderful heaven of pink flowers! Pink is his favorite color and he loves this so much!

Thrilled, he landed on one of them and took a big sniff at it. He sighed happily. “Ahhhhh!”

The flowers smelled so sweet he laid his head on the petals and closed his eyes.

Just then, Poppy flew to the flowers and saw Branch sleeping happily on one of them. She fluttered down to him and asked in a mock lovable-tone “Branch, what are you doing?”

Branch woke up and saw her. “What?! Uhhhhh….Poppy!” he babbled, his face turning purple with embarrassment. “I-I was, uh…um…ehhh….” After running out of words to say, he managed to speak to her “How did you find me?”

“I flew all the way here!” she said. “And I can sense you with my antennae.”

Poppy looked up at her own antennae and they twitched in response. Branch was confused. “How did you do that?” he asked in astonishment.

“Maybe this is like a butterfly’s connection thing,” she answered with a giggle.

Then she landed on one of the flowers and sniffed. “Ooooh! These are some pretty-looking flowers right here!” she exclaimed. “They smell perfect!”

“Uh, yeah. Pretty much,” Branch replied. “But Poppy, do you know they were pink just like you!”

“You mean you want some for me?” Poppy squealed, turning to Branch. “Oh, how sweet of you, Branch!”

Her romantic statement made Branch completely blush purple. His antennae drooped as he said nervously “Uh…oh god, Poppy. You’re freaking me out! You made me blush purple!”

“I knew it! You want to give me something very beautiful for me! You’re a very generous Troll!”

“Okay, okay! Enough!” Branch cried, feeling embarrassed that he said the flowers are the same color as her. He looked to a plant with thick leaves and suggested “Can we just rest for the night?! I’m getting sick of this already!”

He fluttered away from the flower and made his way to the plant. Poppy followed, giggling all the way.

“Where do we sleep in?” she asked. “I hope we can find a nice flower bed for us to snuggle like cute caterpillars! Oooooh!” She thought about the great plan to sleep on a flower. But Branch thinks it’s too uncomfortable so he pointed to a thick leaf on the plant and suggested “How about this? This is very spacious so that sometimes we can sniff those flowers here.”

Poppy liked the sound of that idea. She fluttered past Branch and landed on the leaf, staring up at him with a wide grin in her face.

“Now we can sleep together, you and me!” she chirped. “This is awesome!”

“Not yet, Poppy,” Branch said, realizing that something is missing. “I think we’re gonna have to make a little room for improvement.”

Then he fluttered off in a flash, off to looking for something. He hovered up to a tree branch and glanced at its leaves. They were thick and warm and almost comfortable. But could a butterfly really sleep under a large leaf as a blanket? He wasn’t sure.

Branch grabbed one of the leaves with his teeth and tried plucking it out of the branch. After much a second, the leaf was in his mouth now. He fluttered back to the flower field.

“Hey, Poppy!” he mumbled through the leaf in his teeth. “I came back with this warm blanket for-”

Before he can finish, a loud female snore rang his ears. Branch looked down and saw Poppy, who was now fast asleep on the leaf of the big plant.

As he saw her snuggling down there, he smiled. He felt none other than touched to see his girlfriend sleep like this. After all, she looked very cute indeed.

Then Branch fluttered down to her and let go of the leaf he was carrying in his mouth, wrapping her up like a sleeping bag.

Then he fluttered next to her, landed on the edge of the leaf and kissed her cheek. Finally, he snuggled himself under the leaf with her and closed his eyes, sighing happily. “Ahhhhh!”

Then Poppy felt the blanket and snuggled right next to Branch, smiling. This looks rather peaceful!

An owl hooted through the distance as Poppy and Branch slept for the night under the midst of pink flowers. What a beautiful sight!

All was peaceful and quiet this evening until…

“Bzzzzzzzz! Bzzzz! Bzzzzzzz! Bzzzzzzzzzz!”

Some quiet buzzing echoed around the field. But thankfully, Poppy and Branch didn’t hear it and were still sleeping.

“Bzzzzzzzz! Bzzzz! Bzzzzzzz!” The quiet buzzing still continued to hum as two glowing red eyes appeared from the darkness, just behind Poppy and Branch.

“Bzzzzzzzz!”

Oh no! Are these pair of strange creatures are coming to harm them?

                                                  To Be Continued…

                                                Stay tuned for Part 6!

Note: Credit to @sunshineafter for making the “pervy moon”! I used that moon for this story.

[juspeczyk]

i wanna know all about your ocs!!

cRACKS KNUCKLES.... RUBS MY HANDS TOGETHER.... SO

spooky boi over there is the prince ?? king ?? lord ?? ruler of a dead province, which died out from (1) him practicing magic/experimenting on his own people and (2) him becoming so preoccupied with learning magic that he completely ignored all of his actual duties. he was trained to use magic by death itself. he’s like a thousand years old at the very least, nobody really knows how long he’s been around for sure and at this point he exists more as a spooky legend than an actual like... menace or anything... like, he’s just There. Being Spooky. his castle is surrounded by miles and miles of wasteland and by wasteland i mean creepy dark scrub-plains filled with brambles and vague ruins of a civilization long since gone. his name is kilmalkhan [said kil MAL kan] because that’s the scariest fantasy name i could come up with lmao

sunshine baby girl is belanthea, she’s from a village relatively close to the wasteland, like, they can see the castle and supposedly the village was started by some emigrants from that province who left when they realized their king dude had just ollied out to have the biggest emo phase in the history of existence. she wants to be the world’s best healer!!! slash doctor!!! idk it’s a fantasy world and i feel weird calling her a doctor because she Specifically Wants To Learn Magic To Heal People Better Than Anyone Else. (side note: fuck outta here with that laws of magic bullshit. sure it’s fun but it defeats the entire purpose of magic being magic. magic works however the fuck magic wants to work in this world my dude. if belanthea wants to say abracablessyou and cure the common cold then she’s gonna do exactly that.) she goes to kilmalkhan because he’s the most powerful witch (wizard? warlock? sorcerer? why aren’t there any cool gender neutral terms for magic users @ d&d people fix this please) like... ever, at all, in the history of everything. again, this guy apprenticed under death and basically shirked all his responsibilities to nerd out over magic for 1000+ years. (what kind of goals, tbh...)

so yeah belanthea makes this arduous and mostly just really fucking annoying and inconvenient trek out to his castle in the middle of buttfuck nowhere and she’s like “hey i wanna learn magic” and he’s like “if you think i can just teach you magic then you’re an idiot. i’m the leonado da vinci of magic. the gordon ramsey. the lady gaga. you gotta start with some small shit like magical wax on wax off first, get outta here, stop wasting my time, i have brooding to do” so of course she is Not Happy and she’s like “first of all, i’m clearly exhausted and dehydrated and starving and you haven’t offered me any food or lodging, so fuck you, second of all, i know for a fact that you’re bored out of your mind because you’ve just been sitting around in a castle for hundreds of years, so fuck you, third of all, it’s your duty as the former political leader of my village’s ancestors to make a formal apology for the shit you pulled ages ago and you can do that by teaching me magic to be their doctor, so fuck you”

obviously. this is unexpected. and of course he’s bored out of his mind and lonely as absolute hell. he’s an idiot man who automatically shoos everyone away because he places no value on relationships. the fool. the absolute nincompoop. so he finally agrees to teach her after realizing that (1) he would be a MASSIVE prick not to (2) to even make the trek out here she probably does have some innate magical abilities so it’s not like he’d be starting from scratch (3) she really did just tear into him six ways from sunday and he doesn’t want this cute girl he just met to go back to her village and tell everyone what a fucking sad doofus he is. so they get to it and it turns out that she’s The Most Magical Person He’s Ever Met In His Entire Ridiculously Long Life?? just?? naturally??? she’s just Like That??? like what the fuck??? what the fuck???? he had to go through all these crazy summoning spells and ritual bargains and make sacrifices and she can just smile at some flowers and they start blooming????? what the FUCK

in the beginning he’s really hesitant and doubtful because his studies focused a lot on like... evading mortality, drawing life from one thing and giving it to another, summoning things from other planes, like he focused a lot on “dark” magic, and her focus is much more on nurturing and growing and healing living things and “good” magic. pretty soon though they both realize that there is a middle ground, because the core idea of both their studies is preserving life! so that’s cool and they get along a lot better after that. at one point they have the following discussion

mal: so you want to be the world’s greatest healer

thea: yes

mal: so your boyfriend is cursed?

thea: no?

mal: oh so your village has a terrible magic affliction then

thea: no

mal: then why did you come all the way out here???

thea: because i just want to make life better and easier for everybody? i want to be able to set broken bones instantly and painlessly? i want to make potions that ease pain without clouding the mind? i want to be able to save mothers and children and grandfathers who aren’t ready to die?that’s it? i just want to make the world a better place? why do i need some kind of greedy ulterior motive for that???

mal:

thea:

mal:

thea:

mal (internally, realizing he has now fallen head over heels in love): oh no

so yeah they teach each other stuff, belanthea becomes an amazingly powerful witch, possibly even more powerful than kilmalkhan, because her power comes from her altruism and her faith in people and Boy Howdy Does She Have Oodles Of That!!!!

fast forward and it’s been months?? maybe a year?? a long time... mal comes to her eventually and is like *mr. darcy voice* these past months have been a torment, end my agony, i love you, most ardently, please do the honor of accepting my hand!!! and she’s like..... (inhales) BOI............. of course you’re in love with me i’m the first person you talked to in centuries!!!! no!!!! i’m not marrying you!!! go walkabout!!! travel the world!!! spend a year or two learning to talk to people like a normal human being you dumbass!!! THEN come propose to me if you still feel this way!!!

so he does that-- but before he leaves he passes on his Official Title to her, which means she gets his castle, and all his cool magic shit, and his political influence, and his direct line to death in case she ever needs help with her sweet magic stunts-- he Humbles Himself and Goes Amongst The People and re-learns how to do normal human shit like carry a conversation and hold doors for the person behind you and make funny noises at cats in the hopes they don’t run away from you. she goes back to her village and starts healing people, and soon she is able to start traveling and working in other villages as her reputation (and power) grows.

after his ~year of socialization is up mal goes back and tracks thea down and probably does some extra goth nonsense shit like takes the form of a giant crow-vulture-man-monster and stands outside the wall like “hey is belanthea there”-- because listen. the guy is a terrifying inhuman monster witch. of course he’s gonna do something like that. but he’s also an awkward geek who just wants to say hi to his friend and apologize for being an asshole to her, so like, he’s not gonna DO anything, he’s just gonna stand there and look spooky. some guard sees this and is like HOLY FUCK THE DEVIL IS INVADING and shoots mal with arrows or whatever and it’s super dramatic and of course mal just pulls them out and bleeds his green blood everywhere like “bro what the fuck” and then belanthea shows up and if y’all thought spooky vulture boy was scary then HOOOOOOOOOO WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE THIS TINY WITCH... she goes full-on avatar state on this poor guard like “WHY ARE YOU SHOOTING THE SPOOKY IDIOT!! HE DID NOTHING YOU FOOL!! THIS IS WHY I’M TRYING TO INSTALL MANDATORY PUBLIC EDUCATION!!!!!!”

mal is more or less fine because he’s an immortal being of inhuman nature but belanthea heals him anyway and he’s like “hey this is probably a bad time but uhhhh i still have like a huge crush on you” and she’s like “honestly even if i didn’t like you back i’d still marry you because you’re a disaster who needs supervision”

so they get married and move back into the castle (her castle now) and she keeps all his cool titles and abilities and the wasteland flourishes and people move back and she heals everyone and there is free school and everything rocks forever

they’re mainly an amalgamation of dracula (specifically anime dracula from hellsing and castlevania lmao) and hades and persephone but there are other characters/narratives i tossed in there (see: the legend of holly claus, howl’s moving castle) because I Am Always So Weak For This Type Of Narrative And I Wanted To Combine All My Favorite Things Into One Cohesive Storyline

also this post just crossed my dashboard and i feel like “a necromancer is just a really late healer” sums up their entire relationship dynamic lmfao

other miscellaneous fun facts:

kilmalkhan has a crow/vulture motif because obviously those are carrion birds but they are also beautiful and i love them, and although they look spooky, they tend to just go about their business and be chill, which is a big mood for him

belanthea knew she was gonna marry that idiot the moment she met him but she also knew that she loves and respects herself and wasn’t going to marry that idiot until he stopped being an idiot

he thinks he kills every plant he touches because of his magic but he’s actually just a really shitty gardener. she fixes this

she lives almost exclusively on cheese and bread if left to her own devices because she’s an awful cook. he fixes this

they both are immortal because the basic mechanic of magic is that it comes from death, the earth, the stars, etc. and all of those are undying things, so the more a person uses magic the more “celestial” they will become. some people are born with the ability to channel magic, some learn it later in life, some can’t do any magic at all. belanthea and kilmalkhan were both born with ridiculously op magical abilities

when i say “no laws of magic” i mean it but like. certain ingredients do certain things, certain rituals have certain outcomes, it’s not like magic is this crazy deus ex machina force that people can toss around willy nilly. it takes discipline and study but it’s a lot less“you take the rock and soak it in moon-charged water on the third of june at 3:33 pm exactly and sprinkle seven grains of salt on it and leave it in a chicken’s nest for seven days and when you come back you must fish it out with your eyes closed and only then will it be gold” and a lot more “you point at a rock and wish really hard and it turns to gold”

mal has been using magic so long that he is completely inhuman. he only keeps the human form because it was what he was born in and what he’s used to. his blood is green. his skin is very cold (but he grows warmer the more he learns to socialize and be happy again). sometimes he inadvertently turns into a giant vulture-wolf-monster-dude. sometimes belanthea just wakes up in the middle of the night and finds said vulture-wolf-monster-dude curled up on her tummy like a cat

kilmalkhan would absolutely raze a nation if one (1) person looked at belanthea funny but everyone loves belanthea so it’s much more likely that someone will look at kilmalkhan funny and belanthea will turn into a terrifying angelic dryad to angrily lecture that person on not judging people by their appearance

[mechaspirit]

Sanctuary

Author’s note: This is the idea I have for a while, and it involves three drabbles from three different books, but the theme is the same. Consider this as an early Valentine gift for you guys.

And by the way, in the It Lives in the Woods drabble, MC allow Noah to sacrifice himself to Mr. Red, which is a contrast to the other fanfic I’ve recently written. Hope you enjoy

Disclaimer: Definitely do not own any of the Choices books down below. Those are rightfully owned by Pixelberry.

Rated: T

List of Choices books appeared in this order: The Royal Romance, It Lives in the Woods, and Endless Summer.

Pairings: MCxLiam, MCxAndy, MCxJake

Summary: Everyone has their own sanctuary. Whether it’s at a certain place, or through the people they care about. In the end, we sought our own sanctuary in times of trouble...

“Finding a sanctuary, a place apart from time, is not so different from finding a faith.”

― Pico Iyer

In the World of Modern Royalty

Night has fallen at the garden of Cordonia, and many people who had come for drinks, singing, and/or dancing had. But few others had chosen to stay behind, wanting to enjoy this wonderful even a bit longer before the next, important event comes up for the kingdom.

Liam never thought he would feel this happy again. After the scandal that force to tear him and Riley apart and making him choose Madeleine as a future queen and wife, the king intolerably had to go through with balancing his duties and wedding plans (that actually sounds worse than execution) while trying to find evidence to clear Riley’s name. Lucky for her, Liam sent their friends out to help her out, and they accepted the tasks without any hesitation.

It was painful to deal with because they have to be separated from each other at arm's length as much as possible. Riley was pretty much one of the few people who made Liam really happy, and he couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to be near her. Or worse, not being able to see her again…ever. Regard it was a necessary move since their affairs could cause even more agitation in public for both of them. Plus, Riley never wanted to put herself between anyone’s relationship, even if that kind of relationship was meant to be a political rather than a romantic one. One of the reasons why Liam loves her so much since the former waitress has a strong sense of morality and determination.

But that was over now. Liam broke off the engagement to Madeleine. Riley’s name was cleared and happily accepted the proposal from the king at the Statue of Liberty, making them officially engaged. This was one of the best moments in Liam’s life. Sometimes, he thought to himself that it was too good to be true and the whole thing was a dream, but it wasn’t. He’d finally get to be with someone he knows who is the one for him and they will forever cherish that moment, no matter what.

Soon, the party winded down and while every else took the exit out of the garden, the newly engaged couple stay behind for a tender moment. They held on to each other in an embrace, foreheads touching each other, leaning for a kiss goodnight before parting ways again. Liam knew that Riley had always been his light. He didn’t think he told her yet, but she’s was his sanctuary.

In the World of the Cursed Woods

Andy knew without the doubt the Vivian is the strongest and the bravest person in the group, even more so than him and Ava combined. However, he also knew that even the strongest person has a breaking point.

They leaned on to her whenever things get rough at school and surviving the hell load of chaos Mr. Red created for them. Yet, Vivian rarely relies on them and can be reckless sometimes, such as the time when she went to the woods to confront Mr. Red alone and made everything worse. This proved that pulling a dangerous stunt like that can be too much for one person.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why she became cold and distant after another tragic incident with the shadow demon…

The gang found out from Vivian what happened to Noah that day, and they could see her dark eyes full of regret. Despite their reassurance, she blamed herself for letting Noah sacrificing himself to set his sister free and wished it could’ve been her. Maybe what he did to them was unforgivable, but at least he was willing to do something right at the end for everyone.

PTSD had already hit Vivian, just like how it hit Dan. Perhaps it was the dying part that caused the heroine to crack. She couldn’t handle the fact that she lost someone else after Jane died. There were too many “what if’s” and “it could’ve been me” during the time she pushed her friends away once again.

Andy couldn’t stand the fact that his girlfriend would reconsider dying and taking the traitor’s place just to save all of them. The argument was set between them, with Andy pointing out that the latter would be breaking his heart and everyone else’s by leaving them behind while Vivian retorted that none of them understood what’s it like to see someone choosing to die right in front of them. It was until then that Andy had to remind himself that Vivian is still suffering from the trauma. They all are. And what she really needed was a shoulder to lean on, not any more fighting. They dealt with too much of that already in the past.

They both managed to talk things out again before sitting down on the floor against the side of Andy’s bed from exhaustion. Vivian gently rested her head against his shoulder before finally speaking out again.

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Vi,” Andy replied softly before giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead, “Don’t worry. We’ll get through this. I’m not going to give up on you, no matter what.”

Because he’ll be damned if he did, especially on the person who is actually his sanctuary.

In the World of a Distorted Island

The full moon had shown brightly at the bay area of the Colonnade Cove, and despite being in the island of hell, everything seems to be peaceful. But everyone knew that this peace won’t last forever. Jake learned that the hard way. Losing a best friend (who turned out to be alive and in a robotic state) and being on the run had taught him that it wasn’t easy to trust anyone anymore, and he wouldn’t let anyone else in just to avoid getting hurt again.

That all changed when he first met her back at the cockpit. Despite being attracted to her appearance, the pilot considered Yurika as one of those annoying college kids who only came to enjoy the trip. But deep down, she has the intelligence, determination, and compassion to those around her like any true leader would have. And it was thanks to her that everyone is still alive, fighting their way out on this cursed island.

But there’s something off about Yurika, lately. It was as if she’s becoming more secretive during their times on the island and is close to breaking. Jake even notice the way she was shivering and murmuring a lot in her sleep, indicating that she’s been having a lot of nightmares lately. What it was all about was still a mystery to him. All he knows was that they were still bothering her. Noticing the way her face started twitching in her sleep, he gently shook her awake, causing her to open her dark green eyes.

“You okay, Princess?” Jake asked her.

“I am now,” Yurika replied. The pilot could’ve sworn he saw relief in her eyes before giving him an apologetic look on her face, “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Naw. Stilling tryin’ to get some sleep myself,” Jake then looked at her in concern, “You wanna talk about what’s bothering you?”

Yurika opened her mouth to respond, but couldn’t. Seeing some kind of fear in her eyes, Jake didn’t push it. Instead, he held her close to his chest and gently ran his fingers through her long hair. “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me now. I’m right here if you still need someone to talk to. Just try to get some sleep. We still need to look for the others.”

Yurika nodded in agreement and snuggle against the pilot before slowly falling asleep once again. The former couldn’t help but smile at the sleeping form of the woman he loved.

It’s been a long time since Jake had ever let anyone get close to him, and he was glad it was her. She was the one who convinced him that it’s okay to let those walls down once in a while, knowing that she would always be there to comfort him. It was only then until Jake realized how much she really means to him. He nearly lost Yurika once, when she fell out of the helicopter and into the ocean. But then he, along with Estela, found her again during the volcanic eruption nearly losing consciousness due to the atmosphere. By that time, he swore he would never lose her again.

He never wanted to admit this, but in a way, she was his sanctuary.