#not even close to mentally stable and i almost cried looking at this

[djmaliksmix]

Where the Light Enters

Lucius Verus x Aelia (healer at the colosseum)

warnings: angst, fluff, violence, maybe some cursing??

A/n: Hey guys! Ik it’s been months since I’ve written anything but so much has been going on and I haven’t had the time to do any writings but I’m back ! I just watched gladiator 2 yesterday and loved it (and Paul) so yall already know I had to make this one! Lmk if you guys want a series for this! I’ve been debating but I can’t decide lol. Anyways yes I’m back and enjoy this fic!

The overbearing heat of the sun was so intense that her eyes could barely open, sweat dripping down from her head to her brows then onto the ground. Her sweat hydrated the ground of the colosseum more than rain ever could. Her breaths were getting heavier and the crowds antics and cheers were becoming more deafening.

Gladiators. Her mom and dad. Two of the most bravest, honorable people she knew, had to fight against the worst, most dangerous gladiator of them all. And she had to watch. Her mother and father had gotten into some trouble by senate, which was at the time ran with almost full force of the emperor, and they were forced to fight in the death oval (what Aelia called it).

The senate figured out they had a daughter and forced her to watch. In the senators watch box. They tied her down to a chair in the front row of the box and made her watch everything.

Her mother and father told her to always be strong and keep a positive mind. But how was she supposed to in a situation like this? She looked down at her necklace, the one her parents prepared for her before she was born. It was always a little too big on her as a kid.

Seeing that necklace made her want to cry. She internally knew what was going to happen, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself.

But she remembered what her father preached to her about being brave. She was always told by her parents that they would get out of there some day and live a peaceful life. That was a lie.

Her heart pounded so fast she thought it might burst. Below, her mother and father clashed swords with the gladiator, their movements desperate yet determined. For a moment, it seemed they might win. Until her father was thrown into the wall.

She screamed. “PAPA!”

His body slumped to the ground, lifeless.

She wailed in agony.

Her mother turned to her at the box and mouthed “I love you Aelia” she was impaled by the blade of the enemy and fell to the ground.

“NO!” “MAMA!” She was mad, hurt, and afraid.

Aelia sat in the chair, feeling numb and undetermined, as the desensitized crowd cheered at her parent’s bodies getting dragged out of the colosseum.

After the crowd left, she was still in the chair.

She heard footsteps approach from behind her.

“Do you see what happens when people defy me?” The emperor yelled in her face.

He came all the way down from his box just to yell in a girl’s face. He was a horrible man.

Aelia already crying just cried more. But this time not a screaming cry just silently.

He grinned, his voice cold and sharp. He mimicked Aelia’s mother’s death, driving an imaginary sword into his gut and stumbling dramatically. “Just like that. Gone.”

Aelia’s nails dug into her palms. She pulled at the ropes until her wrists burned, but it was no use. She refused to look at him, her body shaking with fury.

He laughed and walked off. “Guards!” The guards untied the ropes from Aelia’s wrists and ankles and dragged her all the way out of the colosseum, she didn’t really even notice that she was being put out.

She was in so much pain, mentally and physically, she didn’t even care what would happen to her now. She was left outside the colosseum like she was trash, like she was nothing.

She lay on the ground for what felt like days, and as the night was taking over day, her eyes were closing more and more. Cheeks dry from the tears that streamed down.

“Child.” The voice was soft yet stable.

She looked up, blinking through her tears. A woman knelt before her, older, with graying hair tied back and calloused hands that smelled faintly of herbs.

“Leave me alone,” Aelia whispered, her voice cracked.

The woman didn’t leave. Instead, she reached into a pouch at her waist and pulled out a small vial. “Drink this.” When Aelia hesitated, she added, “It’s for the pain. You’re bleeding.”

Aelia glanced down at her wrists, the raw, skin stinging. She took the vial and sipped. It was bitter, but the throbbing in her wrists began to dull.

“Who are you?” Aelia asked.

“Call me Iona,” the woman said. “I’m a healer. And I think you could use someone to teach you how to survive.”

~~~~~

Present Day

“Aelia! We need more vials! And more cots!”

The shout echoed through the cramped, chaotic healer’s station. Aelia didn’t look up, her focus locked on the gladiator before her. His leg was torn open, blood spilling onto the table like a river. Her hands worked quickly, needle glinting in the dim light as she stitched the wound closed.

The necklace around her neck—once her parent’s promise of love to her, now her anchor, thumped softly against her chest with each movement. She barely noticed it anymore, its weight a part of her now.

“I wish someone like you would always work on me,” the gladiator slurred, his lips curling into a lopsided grin.

Aelia glanced up briefly, smiling despite herself. The drug they gave him was already doing its job, dulling his pain and loosening his tongue. “Thank you,” she said lightly. “That’s very sweet of you.”

He chuckled weakly, his head lolling to one side. “You’re an angel. A goddess.”

She bit back a laugh, tying off the last stitch and pressing a fresh bandage over the wound. “I’m just a healer. And you’re just delirious.”

He chuckled and her assistant walked the gladiator off back to his cell.

The station door slammed open, the heavy wood cracking against the wall. Aelia’s head shot up, her heart skipping a beat. A gladiator stumbled in, his face pale and his arm drenched in blood.

“Help him!” someone shouted from behind.

Aelia’s assistant, a young girl barely out of her teens, rushed forward but stopped short, her hands shaking. Aelia quickly pushed past her, her voice sharp. “Lay him down here!”

The injured man staggered to the nearest cot, blood dripping onto the floor. His breathing was ragged, his eyes wild with pain. Aelia grabbed a cloth, pressing it to the wound. The cut was deep—too deep for anything less than immediate care.

“Hold this,” she ordered the assistant, who obeyed without question, though her hands still trembled.

She turned back to the gladiator, her tone steady but urgent. “This is going to hurt. A lot.”

Then, as she started working, he looked up at her, his gaze locking with hers. His expression was fierce, but there was something else there—a hint of weariness that didn’t belong to the typical gladiator she treated.

“I’m Lucius,” he rasped, his voice rough from the pain. “And you’re the one who keeps all of us alive down here.”

Aelia paused, glancing up at him. Lucius. She of course knew he was a gladiator, but she had never expected to treat him. Knowing that he was one of the best upcoming gladiators the colosseum had ever seen. She felt like she knew that name even be for this. Before he was a known name around the colosseum.

Even though everyone is human, he always seemed not human sometimes. The way he fought it was like nothing she had ever seen.

“I do my best,” she replied with a nod, working to stop the blood flow. “Stay with me, Lucius.”

“What’s your name?” he asked, his eyes never leaving hers.

Aelia hesitated for a moment. It was rare for a gladiator to ask for something personal from her, and usually, she didn’t share such details. “Aelia.”

He gave a small smile, despite the pain in his features. “Aelia. Beautiful name for a healer.”

She concentrated on his wound, not acknowledging his compliment. “This will take a while. You’re going to feel a lot of pain.”

He chuckled, a weak sound. “Pain is what I know best.”

After she finished patching him up, it was night time and she had to clean up everything. Aelia wss so tired she felt like collapsing against the wall.

Lucius got up from the cot and stood up.

You’re strong,” Lucius says softly, his gaze heavy with respect.

Aelia lets out a sigh. “I have to be. I don’t have a choice.”

“It’s more than that,” he replies, “Strength isn’t just about surviving. It’s about not giving in to the system... even when it’s crushing you from the inside.”

Aelia finally un-tensed, the tightness in her shoulders loosening as she gazed into Lucius’s eyes. There was a rawness to them, a mixture of pain and strength that made her heart ache. For a long moment, she could only look at him, as though trying to understand the person behind the fighter.

“You have striking eyes,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

Lucius blinked, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. His lips quirked into a faint smile. “Thank you,” he replied, his voice low, almost surprised.

He then shifted on the floor, his body leaning against the stone wall as he sat beside her. For a few moments, the two of them shared the quiet—something rare in the chaos of the colosseum’s healer station. Aelia couldn't help but notice how his presence seemed to fill the space around them, like a force of nature. There was a certain energy to him; brave, broken, yet undeniably powerful.

She glanced at him again, her thoughts drifting. It was as if he’d stepped out of one of those ancient tales her mother used to tell her as a child, those stories of gods and warriors, larger than life.

Except Lucius was no myth. He was real. And he was sitting beside her, in the quiet aftermath of a battle, just a man.

"I never thought I’d be sitting here, talking with a gladiator," she said, breaking the silence. Her voice was gentle but held an edge of wonder, a quiet admission.

Lucius chuckled, the sound warm, though a hint of sadness lingered in his tone. "Most people don’t, I suppose." His eyes softened, though there was still a distant look in them, as though something heavy was pressing on his mind. "I’m not much for small talk, but I’m not always the monster they make me out to be either."

Aelia nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I know. There’s always more to the story, isn’t there? It’s just hard to see it sometimes.”

"Yeah, it is," he agreed quietly. He leaned back, his shoulders relaxing against the cold stone of the wall. “But you, Aelia... you don’t just see the surface, do you? You’re not like the others who pass by, not really caring. You see people. That’s a rare thing around here.”

Aelia felt her heart beat a little faster at the sincerity in his words. She wasn’t used to being seen that way, not in the colosseum. Not by anyone who truly mattered.

She looked away for a moment, trying to steady her racing thoughts. "Maybe it’s because I understand what it feels like... to lose someone you love. To be forced into a life you don’t want."

Lucius was silent for a long moment, his gaze focused somewhere far off in the distance. “I know what that feels like too,” he murmured. Then he turned to her, his eyes soft but firm. “But we fight. We keep going, even when it seems like we don’t have a choice.”

Aelia felt a lump form in her throat at the weight of his words. She nodded, her voice a little more fragile than she intended when she responded. "Yeah. I suppose we do."

The two sat in quiet understanding for a while, the connection between them growing despite the silence. The world outside seemed a little less harsh, a little less overwhelming, as long as they were together in that moment.

A/n: AHHH I HOPE YOU GUYS LOVE THIS STORY AS MUCH AS I DO. I THINK ITS SO SWEET HOW AELIA AND LUCIUS CAN ALREADY FIND PEACE WITHIN EACH OTher. So I have decided there will be chapters to this! hope you guys enjoyed and more chapters to this series coming sooner than later!! pls comment and tell me what I should improve/what I did good on! Love you guys! 😆🤍

[rainydaydally]

You’re like the light of my life

WARNINGS:

Dysphoria

Sexuality crisis

Insecurity

Crying/Kinda a mental breakdown

Jealousy

F-slur

Cartman is homophobic but in a joke way (hes gay)

Unsafe binding (I don’t think you are supposed to swim in a binder, but I’m not sure!)

The Broflovski family is staying in a hotel after camping, and Shiela and Gerald are napping in one bed, and Ike is napping in the other. Kyle, however, is laying next to Ike, wide awake. He takes his mind off of everything, starting to use pinterest on his phone. He gets bored pretty quickly, so he places it next to his head. As he stares at the white ceiling of the hotel, he starts to think. Think about way too much confusing things he cant help but focus on. He thinks about his sexuality, his friends, his looks- *especially* his looks. He sighs, fighting back tears as he grabs his headphones and phone and walks to the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror, listening to Mac DeMarco, as he feels tears fall from his eyes. He cries and cries, and he moves to sit on the closed toilet lid, knees up to his chest, tears spilling uncontrollably. He takes his phone out to text his friend, Stan.

“Hey. Can you call?”

No reply. “He’s probably busy.” He thinks to himself, setting his phone down. He decides to call Cartman, which even though he hates him, he can still cheer him up with his blunt and annoying comments and jokes. Kyle tries opening up to him about his sexuality, which he has also been really confused about. Cartman just says “F*g.” which causes him and Kyle to burst into a silent laughter, making it funnier that he cant laugh, or he will wake his family. After Kyle angrily hangs up on Cartman after some dumb shit he was saying, he goes and sits against the wall, and continues crying. He wipes his nose and his eyes but the tears never seem to stop coming. He’s just so, so confused. One day he will think he’s AroAce, and the next day he will get butterflies when he sees a cute boy at a store. He feels like everyone around him is getting into stable relationships now, like Stan and Wendy. Oh how he wishes he had a relationship like them, they seem so perfect. Suddenly, his phone lights up. 

“Yeah.” 

It’s Stan. 

“Nevermind.” 

Kyle quickly replies back, he doesn’t want Stan to see him so hysterical.

“Oh, okay.”

“Can I tell you something??”

Kyle texts, instantly regretting his decision.

“Of course.” 

Stan replies. Kyle can almost hear the text in Stan’s voice, as if he was right next to him. Before Kyle knows it, he’s confessing deep, dark secrets to Stan over text. His fingers tapping the letters quickly.

“Okay, so this is stupid. But, I feel like everyone loves someone, or someone loves them. I know we are still young but im just so ugly and unwantable and I feel like I might be Aromantic Asexual, but I’m just so confused because I want a relationship. I really have never had someone have a crush on me because I’m so ugly and I’ve always been the ugly one too, and I feel like I’m nothing. Most of the guys are so handsome, and I really dont fit in compared to the rest of them. When we were on vacation at the beach I just felt so sick and insecure because you guys (not trying to be weird) looked really good in your bathing suits, but I just felt uncomfy and I just didnt fit in with you guys.”

“I can’t believe I just texted Stan that.” He thinks, and Stan seems to be taking hours to respond, even though it’s only been 5 seconds at the maximum.

“You are not ugly, I really don’t think you are ugly.”

Why did Kyle feel a feeling in his stomach when Stan had texted him that? Stan not only said he wasnt ugly, but he said HE really doesn’t think he is. 

“You definitely fit in. We don’t care what you look like. You think you are ugly, but no one is our friend group thinks you are ugly.”

Kyle smiles, “Except Cartman.” He thinks to himself. An other text appears.

“I’m sorry but what does aromantic asexual mean?”

Kyle knew this would happen. Most people don’t know what it means He tries to explain it, hoping Stan will understand what he’s trying to say.

“Thanks so much, Dude. Also, it means like you’re not attracted to anyone and dont wanna have sex with anyone basically. But I’m just not sure yet because I’ve never had a crush where the other person really liked me. I mean, I’ve dated people but it was mostly over text and facetime. We never hugged or kissed or anything. I’m probably just asexual, but sometimes I have a crush on someone and later it goes away.”

Kyle continues.

“And I’ve only kissed two people before, and I know thats two more than most people our age. I just feel really terrible for not feeling anything towards them. I mean, they were both girls, so I could be gay.”

Kyle desperately wants to tell Stan about his dysphoria, how his mother keeps telling him he looks just like her, and that he hates how feminine his body is getting. He does not say a word.

“You do have that rizz. I’ve never really talked to anybody in a romantic way before besides Wendy… and that hot sub we had in 3rd grade.”

“Dude! Gross! Also thanks. I just don’t know if I want it, I guess. I mean, your first kiss is supposed to be magical, but I felt nothing. I didn’t think I’d be kissing a girl in a pool bathroom who never even thought of me romantically.”

It was Bebe. Now she acts like nothing happened, but it did, and she knows it did. She is so perfect and pretty and smart, so why didn’t he like her?

“I wasted it. It sucked.”

“Wow. You never told me that before.” 

Stan replies. Kyle feels bad for not sharing it with him before, but it just never seemed appropriate. 

“Yeah. I’m still friends with her, and I don’t want to seem mean, but I really wasted my first kiss.”

“You know how in the movies their first kiss is like amazing magical stuff? Well, we are weird, crazy teenagers that go through stuff and things do not always go according to plan, and that’s ok. I know you will find a perfect kiss one day.”

Kyle really wants to just text Stan right then and there and tell him everything, that Stan sometimes gives him butterflies, and when the backs of their hands graze he feels his face heat up. He can’t tell him that, though, obviously. He doesn’t want to ruin Stan and Wendy’s relationship over a *maybe* crush.

“Dude, I don’t deserve you, I love you so much. You are way too kind and caring.”

“I love you too, bro.” 

Stan replies. Kyle feels a smile grow on his face.

“Also, I don’t mean to be nosy, but who was your first kiss?��

Kyle was really hoping Stan wouldn’t ask that. 

“She would get mad if I told you.”

Is all Kyle replies with.

“That’s okay.”

Kyle continues with his rant.

“I’m going through so much right now though. I hate being trans so much, I’m so jealous of everyone who isn’t tbh.”

“I’m sorry, I’m glad you are telling me so I can try my best to help you through it.”

Kyle sighs. How can Stan be so kind to him? Like he said before, he really doesn’t deserve to be best friends with such a sweet boy.

“I love you so much, you’re like the light of my life.”

Kyle jokes, smiling while thinking about hanging out with Stan. 

Suddenly, theres a loud knock at the door. “Kyle? Kyle, are you in there?” “Oh shit, it’s mom!” He thinks. “Yeah!” He replies, trying not to have his voice break from the crying that was happening before. “Kyle, we’re going to the pool soon. Ike and Dad already left. Do you want to come? I know you’re uncomfortable at the pool-” “I’ll go. Give me a second, though.” Kyle grumbles, sitting up and wiping his tears with the back of his hand. He would be looking foward to the pool- he really loves to swim- but lately he’s been so uncomfortable going, like his mom said. He hates going because he doesn’t know what to wear, and if he wears his binder with his trunks people give him such weird looks. He changes into the clothes nonetheless and steps outside the bathroom, arms crossing over his chest.

Shiela must have noticed he was insecure, because she went up to him and hugged him. “You are such a wonderful son, Kyle.” Kyle feels his stomach turn as he tries his best to hold back his tears, but they spill out again. Instead this time, he isn’t silent. His sobs are loud as he holds onto his mother. She lets go of the hug and walks him to sit on the edge of the bed together. “Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?” She asks. He shakes his head, wiping his tears. “Can we just stay like this for a while?” He asks. “Of course.”

AO3 Link: You’re like the light of my life

Wattpad Link: You’re like the light of my life

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

Mass and Loui both dealing with survivor's guilt. Mass doesn't really openly talk about his often, but he knows it's there.

Just. Them being there for each other when they can relate to each other.

Massachusetts walked into the kitchen and saw Louisiana sitting at the kitchen island. He felt something…. strange about Loui. He felt a bit off. Louisiana seemed to have a very…. Distant. Look in his eyes. Like he was there but not mentally. His eyes were glazed over with unshed tears, he looked incredibly tense and his breathing was a bit shaky and Mass could tell that he was trying to not cry. The older state walked over to Loui and ran a gentle hand through the Pelican State’s hair, and felt the tension in the younger’s shoulders disappear almost instantly.

"Hey kiddo?" Mass asked as gently as he could.

A few seconds later he heard a near silent "Yea sha….?" Thank god for the excellent hearing that came with being a state.

"Are ya…. Um- are ya alright…?" He got no answer, but he saw a single tear fall from Louisiana’s green eye. He pulled Louisiana into a tight hug and held his head to his chest so that hopefully his heartbeat would calm the slightly taller state. Mass could feel how much Loui was shaking and he noticed that Loui was still staring at something out the corner of his eye. He looked up and focused his eyes on where Loui seemed to be looking and he jumped a little bit when he saw it too.

There were multiple spirits dressed is 18th century French clothing. Some had bullet wounds, others stab wounds, many with burn wounds, and there were even a few missing their heads. Some were civilians, and others were soldiers. If Mass was guessing correctly, they were probably people/soldiers that died during the French Revolution. He snapped back into reality when he felt Loui’s breathing quicken even more. He hugged the younger closer and ran a gentle hand through the other’s curls.

"Why…." Loui whispered.

"Why what bud?"

"Why did they have to die sha…. Why couldn’t it just have been me instead….? Or at least why couldn’t I have died as well..?" Louisiana said, letting out a near silent sob.

Mass didn’t really know how to answer the Pelican State’s questions, so he settled for just continuing to hug the younger state and running his hand through his hair to calm him down whilst he cried. Mass turned his head slightly when he heard a teleportation ding. He eyes widened slightly in mild concern when he saw that it was Florida holding a bottle of hair spray and a blow torch.

"Hey Loui look what I ha-" Florida started to shout, pausing when he saw Mass holding Loui close and heard the younger’s quiet cries. "Holy sh*t is he okay?? Who did it?? Who do I need to maim?? Who am I gonna turn into a big bag of some good ol’ gator food??"

"Relax Swamp-For-Brains. Nobody did anything to im’. At least nobody that you can do anything to." Mass said. He proceeded to tell Florida what had happened.

"Oh…." Florida sighed. This was far from the first time that something like this had happened, so he knew exactly how to help poor Loui. "Welp sounds like somebody needs some love and cuddles and kisses from Florida-man~" he said, smirking and snorting at the blush that quickly spread across Loui’s face. He walked over to the two smaller and gently took a very flustered Loui from the Bay State’s arms and hugged him close.

"Thanks for takin’ care of him while I was gone Masshole~" Florida said, planting a few kisses on Loui’s neck/ears, making the state in his arms squeak and blush even more.

"Yea yea whateva’ it ain’t a big deal." Mass said quickly. He truly understood how Loui felt, seeing as he often dealt with survivor’s guilt. Though he had been getting better, he still often feels bad that he survived whilst all of those other people died. But a lot of reassurance and plenty of therapy helped him get better and he is now somewhat stable ("somewhat". He and CT are the only ones out of the NE brothers that went to therapy. NJ just thought that it was stupid, and NY had gone through multiple therapists but they all quit cuz THEY needed therapy after just one session with him 😭)…..

Uhhhh @simpyfrog u might enjoy this i think 👉👈

[whereismycanonevent]

Albums that are important to me Pt. 1

I wanted to write for a while but didn't really know what, so I thought I'm gonna make a list about my favourite albums, talking about them and explaining why are they important to me. Also, sorry for the grammatical errors, I usually write them in the morning so I get my thoughts without "filters" (I'll correct them in time).

Kendrick Lamar - To Pimp a Butterfly (2015)

I wasn't really a big album guy until a few years ago, until I gave this album a listen. I've heard so many good things about this record, so I decided to sit down and listen to it from start to finish. And Damn. Completely changed my mind not only on music, but album wise as well. I always thought an album should be banger after banger and replayable all the time, but that's not the case at all. You can also tell a story, share your thoughts and also share yourself. Hood Politics stood out for me for sure. I always love when an artist/author talk about themselves in another perspective. Especially negatively. It's so difficult to be vulnerable around people, even to close friends, but to put it out to the world? Can't even imagine. Personally, I don't listen to this album all the time, but I have a really special place in my heart for it.

Favourite songs: King Kuta, These Walls, i, Alright, Momma, U, You Ain't Gotta Lie, Hood Politics

Mac Miller - Swimming (2018)

Swimming is one of those records that I could listen to all the time. Mac Miller was such a unique soul. I remember when me and my friend were blasting Self Care almost everyday. It was our jam. Then we had a sleepover and when I woke up the next day, my twitter was flooded with his passing. When I got home and listened to the album again, it hit me differently. Especially the line on the song "Self Care" "... like september I fall".

Throughout the record he openly talks about his drug issues and his mental problems, but also how much he changed and learned throughout his years. Despite this, he still looked for a better future he knew he could get through everything and did not want to give up by any means. The amount of emotions that he put in this album is insane. I'm getting overwhelmed just by thinking about it. Favourite songs: What's the Use?; Self Care, Ladders, Conversation Pt. 1, Come Back to Earth, Hurt feelings, Jet Fuel, Small Worlds

Mac Miller - Circles (2020) This is the continuation of Swimming and some people consider these two albums as the same hence the name "Swimming in Circles". I remember when "Good News" dropped as a single. I cried my eyes out. At the time I was dealing with mental problems and that song was really a nail in the head. Perfectly described me and I listened the absolute shit out of it. Couldn't wait for the whole album (which was a week later). And oh boy, it destroyed me (in a good way of course). Even now, as I listened to it to refresh my memories, hearing that first bassline and the synth joining in on the first song "Circles" made me so emotional and ready to cry (again). I have left so many emotions in those songs, that everytime I listen to them they reappear. Like when you tear up an almost healed wound or when you go to your old room and you get back every memory for a few seconds. Or even when you catch an old smell that reminds you of your childhood or a specific memory. Every. Damn. Time. I mean I got to a point where I hold these memories rather appreciatively, kindly. Because after all this time I feel better now and I learned so much thanks to them. And this is the point of this album also. To change. To get better. Not to forget, but to appriciate and learn from your mistakes. I can't thank Mac enough because of these two albums. Fun fact, on the last song "Once a Day" the ending chord is actually an "unstable" chord. And as the album repeats, on "Circles" the first chord is a "stable" one. Which means that not only the album title is "Circles", but the album itself is a never ending circle. Favourite songs: Circles, Good News, Everybody, Woods, Surf, Once a Day

Sticky Fingers - Caress Your Soul (2013)

StiFi is one of those bands that found me at the perfect time. When I was reading through the JoJo's Bizzare Adventures series, one of the characters, Bruno Bucciarati has a stand called "Sticky Fingers". I didn't know which album/band was that so I searched it up, well, originally it was named after The Rolling Stones album from 1971, but I found these guys as well. To be honest I didn't check them out, but Spotify had a different plan. The next week, they appeared on my discover weekly page with the song "Teenage Vertigo" (I still think that song is the least StiFi song ever), I liked it so I added to my library. And it took me year to really gave their discography a listen. I was instanly hooked. Every album has a different vibe, personality and overall mood. But the one that stands out to me is definitely Caress Your Soul (even though the band fucking hates it). I can't really explain the genre of it, some people would call it alternative. Well that's partly true, I would call it a blend of reggae and pshyc rock? Or pop? Difficult to wrap my head around it. One song can be psychedelic inspired the other one reaggae style, another one is just alternative rock, it's a lot. Mainly that's why I absolutely adore this album. Around a year ago I had a really bad mental breakdown and I was always listening to this album. It got me to a better headplace and picked me up from the ground. It was a miracle. If you could see my Spotify history, I listened to this record; Every. Single. Day. The opening track "How to Fly" always gets me in a better mood, almost calms me down. Every time I hear it, it brings a smile on my face (maybe because I got high on it all the time). Also they dedicated an entire song to Laika, the russian dog who got sent out the space, hello??? The song feels already sad enough, but after you learn the history behind it, you'll feel even worse. It also helped me get better with the guitar, I learned so much in such a short time. Most of my chord knowledge, techniques come from this album and from this band, being grateful would be an understatement. Aussies definitely know how to make music, they have it in their blood. Favourite songs: How to Fly, Caress Your Soul, Clouds & Cream, Bootleg Rascal, Laika, Kiss the Breeze

Turnstile - GLOW ON (2021)

Being blessed by Spotify's Discover Weekly again, "I Don't Wanna Be Blind" from their previous album "Time & Space" instantly got my attention. The bassline, the punchy drums, the catchy guitar riffs and the dreamy yet attention catching vocals brought it together. But I didn't listen to their other stuff until a while later when one of my close friend showed me the video for "MYSTERY" and "TURNSTILE LOVE CONNECTION". I was blown away, the videoclip is so well produced, perfectly fit the music as well. Then I decided to listen through the entire album and I'm not gonna lie, It got me mesmerised. The cover art matches the vibe as well. It went on repeat the entire day. They definitely found their voice with this album. The way they mix hardcore punk with this dreamy sound, it's mind blowingly works. What really stood out to me was the drum parts. Daniel Fang is a fantastic and versatile drummer. Still bringing the hardcore punk feeling, he also mixes it with latin and samba style grooves, like on the track "DON'T PLAY", that groove with the catchy guitar riffs?? Should I dance or should I go into a moshpit?? Why does it work so well??? They know when to be aggressive and know when to pull back just to punch you in the face with a heavy part. Like how "MYSTERY' ends and how "BLACKOUT" starts. Always pumps me up. Favourite songs: MYSTERY, BLACKOUT, HOLIDAY, WILD WRLD, ALIEN LOVE CALL, T.L.C. If you read it until this point, thank you! I've planned this out a few days ago, but I'm really happy how it turned out. It was also great, to give another listen to these albums. I'm trying to post the second part as soon as possible.

[sociallyanxious-eros]

I made this post and I got some great names to investigate, thank you, but I thought it would be cool to tell the whole dream and give some context, 'cause I mentioned the elements I thought were more important and were highlighted through the dream, but maybe an outside vision could help me interpret what elements really were more important.

A small CW: about anxiety attacks and symptoms.

The description ended up being long, so I decided to put it under the cut ⬇️

The context before the dream/meeting it's important so here we go. I watched a thing that triggered a feeling that I thought I got over. I started to feel anxious the whole day, remembering all the time the subject that triggered all of this. I also judged myself a lot, because it's a thing I thought I already figured out. It was 3 days of constantly thinking "I figured this out, why am I feeling this way?" "I thought I understood this feeling, it doesn't make sense to still feel this way". 

My rational and emotional sides are always fighting and disagreeing with each other, it happens all the time, I mentally figure out the source of my feelings and why some things trigger me, but I get frustrated that even understanding this isn't enough, it isn't enough to make me stop feeling that way. This started on a Thursday, I didn't know what to do. I was advised by my therapist to just feel it because some things we just need to let go through to our emotional side to understand it, but feeling that was destroying me. 

I'm completely clueless about communication with the Gods or anything, I also am very skeptical about a lot of things, but one thing about me I knew is that I could contact them through my dreams. The problem is, I don't know how to do it by myself, what always happened was they contacted me first. I thought a lot about asking for help, but I always feel stupid saying things out loud, for some reason I feel awkward like I'm talking alone even though I'm not, so I just didn't say anything, I just cried miserably and went to sleep. 

The night from Sunday to Monday I had the dream. I don't remember all of it, I just remember when I got to that place. It was a garden, there was bright sunlight going through the trees, and it was just a wonderful and magical place. Inside that garden there was a corridor of doors, it resembled stables, where horses sleep, except it was all covered, with closed doors, no way of knowing what was inside, it looked like it wasn't even possible to open it. Whatever was behind those doors, couldn't get out, some were more hyperactive than others, bagging the door and stuff, and some were almost like there was nothing inside. The garden also had short fences that had some unidentified animals inside. When I say unidentified is because I couldn't see them properly, in my mind their image it's like a foggy silhouette light. There was a guy that guarded the doors corridor, he kept the place and he was the only one I could see the face properly. He had long brown messy hair, a mustache, and a small beard. He also was small, almost my height, 150cm something (4'11'' ft), he looked serious, always had a straight face and I don't remember him saying much. All the doors were closed, but only one was wide open. 

This one was her door, it was open because she was the only one that could wander around the garden without destroying it. 

I looked for her, she was sitting on a piano, just there. I remember when I encountered her my intuitive thought was that she was a fae, I also couldn't see her, she was a bright foggy, and white silhouette, even though I didn't see her face, I knew she smiled. It's hard for me to explain this type of dream because I don't know how to put into words that I didn't see her, but I could feel things like her intentions, the fact that she is female, and her emotions at that moment. She was really calm, in a way that looked almost naive and innocent, however, she wasn't, she just looked that way, but I know she is very wise and aware of her surroundings even though she looked disconnected. 

The "guard" called her back to her "door", she got up from the piano and without saying a word left to me a task, to take care of an animal. She "said" that this animal sometimes got anxious, scared, and would move aggressively, I just had to sit there, watch it and it would calm down. This animal I also couldn't properly see, it was quadruple and its silhouette reminded me of a snow lynx. It had times when it got erratic, moved, and jumped around their whole room, it looked anxious and scared, but it calmed down with time, I just had to sit there, watch it, and be patient. 

When I woke up I just knew this wasn't a regular dream, I'm starting to get used to this type of stuff and I'm learning to identify the differences between a regular dream and this type of contact.

Is vivid, and because it's vivid, I can remember a lot of it, I can't remember all or every single thing, but I can remember most of it.

I can't see shit lol, I mean, I can see the place, but I can't see these beings, they're always a foggy light, but somehow, I can "see" them through the feelings.

It always affects my waking life.

After the dream, I watched again what had triggered my anxiety, and nothing happened. No more crying, no more shaking, no stomach ache, no sweating. What I felt was a really small cold on my stomach that I could vividly feel that something was covering it, as if covering a snowball with hands. I told this to my therapist and she pointed out how interesting it was that I was assigned a task to basically take care of my emotions and my anxiety, and let it go through. Since then, I have looked to find out who that woman was, so I could properly say thank you. 

Regarding the names commented, Ēostre was the top 1 of my assumptions, when I first read about her I remember getting a little "tickling" feeling, but I got into a philosophical and personal beliefs rabbit hole because doing research, I found that she is pretty much a neo-pagan thing, there isn't any historical evidence of ancient pagans worshiping her, we just have a brief mention of a monk and brothers Grimm tales, so I started to think a lot what I consider to be a God/Goddess? Are deities only the ones worshiped in history, the traditional ones, or are they something that someone came up with and through time it got so believed that eventually it truly started existing? Are deities people that died and got this "role" like an afterlife, or are they something from nature itself? I feel like I could never answer these questions, but in the meantime, I have other theories regarding that one from my dream.

Other than Ēostre, I can't help but think she's a nymph, I don't know why, but I made a weird association of that guard as a satyr even though he had 0 physical characteristics of one, he just looked like a guy from earth that took care of that place. Because my first thought when I encountered her was that she was a fae, and because of her innocent "vibe", and the guy that resembled a satyr, I can't help but associate her with a nymph. I also got a comment about the Graces, and they are also ones that got me thinking more about. Regarding other Goddesses's names like Friyja, Sif, Brigid, and others, even though they were similar to what I saw, these names didn't stick in my head enough to consider something.

Maybe, she doesn't have a known name, maybe she's just a nymph or fae that helped me, but doesn't have a proper connection to me. I just think it would be great to get to know her and say thank you. Still, thanks to the comments with suggestions, they helped me think about this event and what are my true thoughts regarding deities and other spirits.

Something a bit off topic but I found fun to mention, in this place, there was a group of animals that reminded me a lot of the soot sprites from Studio Ghibli hahaha

I've been searching to know who is the deity/entity or I don't know who helped me get over some stuff. I'm looking for a female related to nature, animals, and music. Nature isn't harvesting or anything farming related, is more forest, prairie, grass, and flowers. Animals, probably felines, but I'm not 100% sure. Music, piano, and string instruments. I also think she's related to helping people going through hard times, she helped me calm down my emotions and feelings through days filled with anxiety (because of that, I theorize something related to spring). She also wasn't alone, there was a guy around the place, but I don't know much about him other than he was some sort of a guard (not in appearance, but in the role). I can't describe her appearance, I can't see properly when meeting these beings, but I can say she was tall, her "blurry blob" was very bright and white. Other things I don't know how to explain, but I just know is the fact that she is female, and a little old, not old like a grandmother, more like old like an ancient and wise being. I'm not looking through specific mythology or pantheon, but Norse Mythology elements already have appeared at other times for me, but during that meeting, I thought a lot about fae folk and also nymphs.

[kpop-dungeon-dark]

Request # 1.5 (Priest!Jongin x Reader)

•TRIGGER WARNING•

Request: “I can kinda see a part two where Jongin keeps cleansing OC and she becomes numb to this treatment and becomes the most obedient little plaything… like she welcomes the cleansing showers and does self degradation dirty talk never fails to thank her Master for treating her exactly like she deserves and such”

Part I (click on the text)

Warning(s): Stockholm syndrome, brainwashing, degradation, humiliation, watersports, priest!Jongin, power play, Master/Sub dynamics, slapping, spanking, creampie, riding, breeding kink. You've been warned, browse at your own risk. This piece is purely a work of fiction and does not represent Kim Jongin in any way nor does the writer condone these actions.

Turning the key in the lock, Father Jongin cracked his neck and entered the warm and pleasant smelling house that was once his cold quarter, closing the door behind him before turning to be met with the sight of Y/n kneeling in front of him obediently against the door like the good pet that she was, head lowered in respect.

"Welcome home, Master!" She chirped, which basically meant that she had successfully done all her chores and tasks today and there was nothing in her knowledge that would earn her a punishment. "I missed you!" Crawling to his feet, the girl eagerly kissed them and snuggled her face against one of his legs, whimpering from the warmth.

"Hello, pet." Her head quickly raised from his leg to where his awaiting hand was, sneakily looking up at him through her fringe as he petted and stroked the top of her head, sighing in content. "The mood tells me you've been a good pet for me today, hm?" Y/n started to crawl besides him as he walked to the couches in the living room, stopping in front of him when he sat down and manspread his legs.

"Yes, sir. Pet has done all tasks assigned to her!" She gulped at how big and intimidating he really was compared to her. The girl felt stupid for never noticing it before.

But then again. That was exactly why she needed her Master every step of the way. Because she was stupid and dumb. And Jongin was the only one who could guide her through everything. Or she wouldn't be able to survive so much as even one day on her own.

He was so kind and loving to having taken her in and under his wing after she had been nothing but a lost soul up to no good.

Y/n was so thankful it made her heart swell with adoration.

"Good pet…" Motioning her the permission to crawl between his legs, he sat back more relaxed now, loosening his clothes and resting his head against the couch now. "Hmm~" taking the glass of water she handed him from the coffee table that had been prepared beforehand, Jongin slipped his fingers between her hair that he liked open and tangle free, running his hands through them softly as she kissed and rubbed her nose against his bulge, hands besides her on the ground because she wasn't allowed.

"Go ahead… be a darling~" a small smile formed at the corner of his mouth when she peeked at him through her lashes, his nails scratching her scalp softly as he softly nodded after taking another sip. "Show Master how thankful you are…" Playfully kicking one of her ass cheeks softly, he caused her to giggle. A little too loud.

"S- Sorry, Master!" She sputtered in embarrassment, cheeks hot and red as she stroked his thighs and kissed his balls in an apologising way. "Pet is sorry! She didn't mean to be so loud!" Hurriedly undoing his belt, she gulped and didn't look up at him, kicking herself mentally.

Jongin didn't appreciate her being too loud or demanding.

Good pets obeyed and remained quiet in the corner to serve and be used whenever their Masters desired.

"Tsk…" The tan skinned man sighed, pulling at her hair just a little but letting it slide because his balls were aching today and the way she was kissing his cock before softly taking it out of his briefs was the pleasurable road to relief and punishments could always come later.

It wasn't like she wasn't going anywhere.

"Thank you so much for letting Pet touch you, Master…" Y/n was so pretty as she blushed as she always did, nipples which were erect due to her arousal that he could clearly see because she wasn't allowed to wear clothes. "Thank you so much for being kind…" She kissed the tip again. "For feeding me…" Now her hand travelled down to the base as she slowly pumped it. "For being so kind…" Her warm tongue licked the tip like one would icecream. "For taking me under your wing…" Sweat broke out on his temples.

"For bathing me…" The girl's pretty eyes flickered up to meet his as she opened her mouth and welcomed the tip in the warm and wet space, sucking at it and swirling her tongue around it. "Thank you for always treating me like I deserve~" Y/n spoke against his cock, her spit and his precum running down his cock and dripping down his tense balls.

"Ugh, fuck!" Jongin grunted, tightening his grip on her hair before pulling her up. "Stop that! Nothing slow today, come and fuck yourself on me. Now!" Wincing a little the girl muttered an apology and clumsily straddled his hips, blushing and biting her lip in embarrassment.

"S- Sorry, Master!" Stabling herself, the girl gulped as she looked at the thick and long erect cock, whimpering at the thought of how the veins bulging against the skin would feel. With the only prep being her arousal, Y/n felt her heart pound against her ribcage as she aligned his cock against her entrance, feeling her palms sweat as her body started to lower, face scrunching in pain and pleasure.

"A- Ow- Thank you, Master! Thank you so much…" Biting her lip as her hole sucked his entire length in and it instantly hit her g-spot, making her see stars. "Oww… s- so big, Master…" Tears welled up in her eyes as the girl winced, lifting herself back up before bringing herself down again. The veins tickled her wet burning walls and made it hurt so good.

"Shut up!" Grabbing her tits, he squeezed them hard before pushing his fingers in her mouth. "JUST- shut the fuck up and fuck yourself on me, my little slut. Fucking take these balls in and show me how it looks in that whore womb of yours" Y/n coughed and gagged, starting to ride him faster and deeper but there was only so much she could do. She was just a weak little girl and his cock was much too big.

Sucking on the fingers she had in her mouth, the girl gagged whenever he hit them against the back of her throat, whining at how he bit and pulled at her nipples, pinching and slapping her ass. "Now show me how you're taking it! Show me!" Placing her shaky hands against her stomach, the girl stretched the skin sideways and the imprint of his cock fucking her because even more visible, making his cock twitch. "See that, whore? Yeah. Fucking look at that! Look at how Master's cock fucks you in your little breeding pit."

"Fuck!" Jongin was usually a calm and laid back kind of man but whenever he was horny and fucking her, he got rough and impatient, making him thrust his hips up into her walls, slapping her ass cheeks with both his hands and making them burn. "No good! You're good for nothing! Pathetic little useless slut! Can't even fuck herself properly!" Pulling the fingers he had in her mouth out the man slapped her cheek, slamming her up and down with the help of her breast.

"S- Sorry, Master! Pet is so sorry! She's so pathetic she cannot do anything right! She always needs him and his help! Thank you for being kind and forgiving, sir! Please! Please!" She cried, running out of words and not knowing what to say anymore.

"Fuck it" the male roughly grunted, grabbing her by an arm as the other hand gripped her hip and he switched positions so fast she couldn't even comprehend it, placing her against her elbow against the coffee table, lifting the leg that was off the ground as her body was positioned sideways and putting it against his shoulder while snapping his hips.

"Oh, shit!" Jongin growled almost, placing a hand over her stomach to feel his cock and balls going in and out, spanking her ass again as she cried, mouth formed into an 'O' while thanking him inaudibly. "Aw, fuck, pet! Shit! I am gonna fuck a baby into you at this point! Fuck!"

"Thank you! So k- kind! Thank you, sir! Thank you for filling me with your baby! Thank you so much!"

"You'd look so pretty, huh, pup? Such a small little thing all swollen and full of my children, waddling about with wide hips and heavy breasts like the most fuckable little thing alive all for me! Fuck!" He didn't even know if he wanted a child her. But the thought… Oh boy was it hot.

And Y/n… well she was to be thankful for and welcome everything that came her way. Because Master only knew and did best.

"Fuck! Cum! Come on! Clench around me and cum!" As if on cue, the girl sobbed and even went a little limp from the intensity as she started to cum undone, her back arching as her stretched and overflowing hole closed around his cock, the table moving back and forth from the thrusts.

"Good. Such a good fuck pup… The perfect cum rag…" Jongin whispered as his thrusts slowed down, moving and placing her body on the ground on her back before he eventually stopped and pulled out.

"Legs open. Show Master his baby." The male demanded, tapping the side of her thigh before standing up.

"H- Here, sir… Master's baby all safe in pup~" her chest moved up and down as she spread her pussy lips and showed him her stretched out hole that was gaping open, his cum decorating it and the man could swear it was even a little swollen from how much was stuffed in there. "Thank you so much~" the girl breathed out as she tried to catch her breath.

"Good pet." Jongin praised as he grabbed his cock for the grand finale, grinning as he aimed his cock at her body. "And good pets deserve their showers, don't they?"

The girl scrambled to her knees again, eagerly looking up at him. "Yes, sir! Thank you for always cleansing me!"

The man whimpered a bit under his breath as the hot piss he had been saving for a while finally burst through the opening, letting it hit the girl's face followed by her tits and stomach as she obediently turned and let her back get covered in it too.

"Now clean up all of this and dinner better be ready by the time I have finished freshening up." Kicking her perky bottom from behind, the male tucked his cock back in and turned to leave. "Or what happens to pathetic sluts who don't serve their Masters well?" Already starting to walk away and towards the stairs leading to the bedroom, Jongin asked and raised his eyebrow.

"They sleep in the cold basement all alone, Master!" Y/n obediently replied before going back to slurping the piss clean off the ground.

.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Infected/Undead Boyfriend (Ryan Chen) 3 (FINALE)

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Part 1  -  Part 2

Warning: some language. Long chapter ahead!

When It Rains, It Pours Part 3 (FINALE)

It was always raining in November-– or was it now December?

It was hard to tell: the rain had turned harder and harsher, solid ice and snow fell across what was desolate and overgrown lands, where the city life grew smaller, a distant reminder that they still hung in an area. The coating of snow grew harsher the more the days passed, and bitter was its storms and winds to you and your surroundings.

How you managed to get out before losing yourself was an amazement to you and those of your rescuers.

"Hey, five minutes before we depart—you good?"

You blinked lazily, back to the surrounding sounds that were not of the dead crawling and walking on the grounds, of laughter and joy that you had missed and forgotten the sounds of. You remembered where you were: the warmth of the fire spreading across your limbs as you looked up from the floor, a hand in reach for you to take.

Justin was the first and the only one you had really spoken and befriended who wasn't a relative to you, a friend you shared rum and morbid chats with when the two of you were on night duties, staring up at nothing by the sky. He was cute: brown hair and eyes, pretty smile, but he was just another hole filled.

'Okay, okay, humour me with this,' He asked you when the blizzard was raging outside of your camp, the howling winds rattling against the iron doors. 'If you could take anyone with you, in the world, where would you go and with who?'

There was only one name that came to mind that night, the lines of your face creasing as you smiled sadly. 'You'll have to let me think about that one.'

"You good, tiger?" You took his hand as he hauled you up to your feet, dusting away the snow from your worn jeans. "You seem... out of it. You can tell me, I can get someone else to do this if you're not feeling up to it."

"No, it's fine, I'll be out in five." There was a haunting, dreadful pause from Justin, observing you silently when time didn't seem to go any faster, before he nodded, heading out of the hall, his distant figure fading through the groups of crowds waiting.

You gathered your things slowly, fumbling with the leather jacket, dipping your fingers into the deep pockets, fumbling with the smooth edge of the card still occupying it. Never did it seem to lose its feel, thankfully. Get a grip on yourself. You sighed, securing your knife into your boot. Three years... three fucking years and you still mourn.

The snow had settled once you had been brave to face it, crunching satisfyingly under your boots each step you took to the stables, waiting there was Justin and a few others you didn't take time in memorising their names.

"You ready?" Justin asked, strapping more ammo into his backpack. "Help yourself to some more. Heard there's infected up north from here roaming. Potentially they could come down."

"Yeah, thanks." You grabbed a large bar, stuffing it away before paying attention to the black stead you had named Diamond. "Hey, girl. Ready to stretch those legs?"

The beauty snorted almost in reply, a genuine smile gracing your features when you had clamoured up, mentally and physically preparing yourself for the arduous journey that would take place. An hour away from the Jackson base was the Crow's Nest: the barren hub used to scout the area, to keep eye on roaming hordes.  

"The snow has settled, but with it, the dead grow. Watch out for yourselves, keep close to the path and don't stray." Justin gave final warnings before you all set off, the large electric gates of the once well-known powerplant creaked open, a vast, vicious cold greeted you the moment you stepped out.

The journey left you frozen and missing the heat from indoors, reminding yourself why you had gone out in the first place was to get away from everyone, but now you had dearly missed the sweet sight of civilisation creeping back to normal. I can be back and everything will be fine. You told yourself, and you foolishly believed it.

When you finally arrived, there were little dead who had managed to get through the other side of the pen, and taking them out was no issue. The base on top was all but a cosy place: desolate, reeking of decay and too cold. When you finally reached the windows that showcased the cast white outside, did you finally breathe out in somewhat respite.

"See that out there, that's the city you came from, right?" Justin pointed out to what looked like nowhere, but even where the sky and snow met with vast starkness, there was still an outline of a desolate and barren city, broken and crumbling skyscrapers still reaching to the chilling sky.

It was miles out, you realised, but the routes out were like a maze on its own.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of going in there for fun?" You asked, the man beside you rolling his eyes exasperatedly. "You would have to be fucking insane to want to go back in there."

"Even so, what kept you sane?"

The name you so missed to say was on the tip of your tongue, memories that swept through your mind nearly brought you to tears. Maybe, in some reality, the two of you could've been that couple, living out your days in a decaying city, filled with dead, going down as the world would never miss you. But in some ways, it was for the good. You blinked the tears away before any could fall.

"Faith, a hell of a lot of it." The winter sun was dead as well as the last of those memories. "I'm done with it, done for good."

In the distance, when the snow settled quietly, a dull, thunderous cry, followed with the faint sounds of bangs going off, a chorus that never seemed to quieten, only did its cries grow louder and louder, until-

"Infected have made their way into the bunker!"

You turned with Justin in surprise, the thuds of gunshots and its chambers thudded in time with your heartbeat, rousing the adrenaline as you moved like clockwork to make your way back down, back into the darkened, gloomy hallways so narrow it barely fitted enough, but now stood with both humans and dead.

Even war has never looked like this. There were bodies already, a mixture of dead taken down and those who had fallen, bleeding to the ground in puddles, eyes frozen and bodies stiff. "Come with me down to the east wing." Justin guided you away from the onslaught, away from the crowded corridors as the two of you run further away from the noises.

"You know how many they'll be?" You rasped, trying to steady your breathing, the grip on your knife straining your fingers.

"I don't know," Justin answered. "But whatever you do, don't think recklessly. You're a strong fighter, so don't think about dying."

"I could say the same with you." You stopped when you stopped outside the double doors, slightly ajar and smeared blood wiped across the handles and door. "You ready?"

No. You thought. I don't even want to be here. "Yes."

The door was opening wider before you could realise: the noise loud and shrilled, as were the following, inhumane cries and shrieks that followed. Through the darkness of the room: the boiler room, you could see, maybe four or five dead, twitching and grotesque.

And two of them charging towards you both.

Justin made light work of the largest one, leaving you to deal with the other, all snarling and baring its mangled, blackened teeth. You reared back as it did too, causing you to collapse into the wall but not fall, supporting yourself and keeping its head from coming any closer to the flesh of your face or neck.

You struggled for what felt like forever, until you kicked it as far away from you, shoving it into Justin's grip as you charged, using your knife to lodge it into the jellied head, one final cry came before its head slumped, black blood seeping through.

"Good job," Justin let it drop against the wall. "A bit quieter would've been better though."

"Yeah, thanks though." You caught your breath, iron in your throat when you exhaled, feeling like knives stabbing you a thousand times, not helping with the cold of the room. "Shall we continue onwards?"

"We could take down the rest of these- Hey, watch out!"

You turned in time to hear the raucous grunt of something collide into the side of you, causing you to stumble, crashing into the boiler behind you, the wind knocked from you with such force, your vision dotted. "Shit!" Justin shouted from the darkness, and you could hear the struggle, gunshots and more animalistic roars. "Justin! Are you okay?"

"Go! I'll distract it!" You heard his retreating voice, the heavy footsteps follow before you had time to catch the large creature leave, a dreadful smell of mildew and rotting flesh filled your nostrils, almost making you gag.

"Fuck." You grunted to stand, head dizzy, aware that the noises and clicks were coming from the rest of the dead in the surrounding area you shared with them. "Shit!" Quickly, you picked up the blade fallen, dodging the remaining dead as you continued in a haze through to the back of the room, hopping over the wall to get through to the bunker. The sounds of the dead never faltered, sounding all around you and nowhere at all, limbs shaking, clothes drenched not with water.

I'm going to die, I'm going to die—I'm fucked, I'm fucked. You tried to keep moving, but you kept running into dead ends and parts cornered off, leading you to believe that there would be no way of escaping.

Something scampered in your peripheral, large and skinny, you braced for the worst when its shadowed body crawled around in the dark, closer and closer. You pulled your gun out, trying to steady your breathing and keep an eye on it. It didn't move like any of the other dead—perhaps a new one you weren't aware of.

You decided to try and take a shot, the bullet ricocheting off a pipe and exploding with gas, letting out and creating a thick, never-ending mist that you found hard in trying to see through. There was the sound of shoes scraping against the floor, someone running towards you and grabbing you, and you screamed, their face guarded as you tried fighting them off you, away from the floor so they wouldn't have full control over you.

Your fingers gripped the gun, reminding yourself to not let go of it, and you finally- after some struggle- kicked the creature in the stomach, letting it stumble back as you finally tried to take another shot.

In the mist that was fading slowly as you tried to focus, the legs of the figure finally appeared, a full body appearing like someone of a horror film, head turned from you as you squinted to whatever was standing in front of you, your time to take the shot faltering.

"Ryan?"

The lithe humanoid figure was as dishevelled as you could recall once he twisted his torso to look back on you. A distant memory that floated in your mind, of peace and tranquillity, it now stood in front of you as some bitter, warped illusion. He was everything you remembered of him, the same clothes but now wearing a different jacket to the one you still wore in honour, his hair seemed longer, more messy and unkempt, strands pulled out from the bun, guarding his soft, unsteady dark eyes. He looked thinner from the last, a walking apparition whose skin was washed pale and bruised black and blue, his cheeks hollowed and eyebags darkened.

"Oh, god," the grip on the trigger loosened shakily, eyes dotting with sudden tears. "It's you, isn't it? I'm not fucking dream, am I?"

The man didn't seem responsive at first, playing into the belief he was some sort of hallucination after all, but his mouth opened, a quiet voice answering. "Yes, it's me."

The noise that left your parted lips was shaky and warbled, a string of tears flowing down your cheeks when everything slowly fell apart. "Why," your words were twisted and you fumbled clumsily. "Why... why did you leave?"

He was silent, the hard struggle in understanding what he was thinking. He seems… ashamed. You thought, watching his shifting eyes. You watched the pain that didn’t seem to be hidden beyond his eyes, even when he spoke. “… You belonged with them, not me.”

“How would you know that? I—you could’ve come with me, Ryan. We’re an open community, we can help you-”

“No,” his voice was strained, his eyes more red than usual. “I can’t be fixed.” He lifted his black t-shirt, the skin bruised as his face had been, inflamed and almost maimed. “I was bitten.”

“But you didn’t turn.”

“No,” his smile was soft, downturned. “Perhaps turning would’ve been the better option. But I live with these decisions. You need people, not me.”

“Ryan,” you took a hesitant step towards him, still, the tears fell. “Do you know I still think about you? Even after all these years.”

“No,” he laughed silently, his eyes glassy and cold. “I did too. A lot.”

“Please, please come with me. I promise you, we can help you—we could fix you.”

Ryan watched, not showing signs of moving away from you as you slowly made your way to him, outreaching your hand for him to hold. Just… just to hold once more, to feel him again. How you craved it like it was a lifeline.

“I—I can’t describe how I’m feeling right now.” His words were hushed when you were close to him, feeling his breath fan against your wet cheeks. “You don’t have to describe anything,” you murmured. “Just… let it happen.”

He leant into you first, his lips were warm and memories swarmed in your mind like you were drowning. His being, his smell: so sweet and inviting, your memories were swelling and rising, bringing a feeling of levitating, back to a time when you felt loved and needed. Back in his arms in an excluded room, forgotten altogether but in each other’s arms.

When you pulled away, he leant his forehead against yours, warm and damp from cold. “I missed you so.” He muttered softly. You had so many thoughts, too many emotions that everyone argued with things they wanted to say before the other. But the same thing was in your mind, replaying over and over again.

It plagued you, as you took his hand into your own, squeezing as if your life depended on it. “Ryan, I-”

Your words were there, masked and clipped from the noise that came from in front of you, a large reverberating noise that was sharp and rung, smoke appearing as Ryan stumbled forward, allowing you to catch him. He was limp, colder than usual and not from the cold. He was shaking, muttering something in a quiet, weak voice, but you couldn’t hear him, even when you flipped him carefully, seeing his mouth open and close, you looked up in time to witness the devastated eyes of someone you wanted to forget.

“Get away from it,” Justin’s words were followed by him stepping closer between the two of you, gripping your shoulder. “You’re lucky I came in time. I heard gunshots, I got worried-”

“You shot him.” You weakly said, frozen and still holding Ryan, the grip on him still tight and there for him to know you were still holding onto him, keeping him safe.

Justin seemed as confused as he tried lifting you off the ground, “I’m trying to help you, that thing-”

“Stop it. Stop it!” You swatted his hand away sharply, reaching around to hold and stabilise Ryan, the shot to his stomach was bleeding profusely, soaking through your fingertips. “He’s dying, he’s fucking dying.”

“Hey, hey, what—” he said your name, shaking you out of the breakdown. “It’s infected—look at me, what do you mean?”

“I love him, Justin! I know him, I know him! Ryan Chen, he’s not one of them!” You were blubbering and muttering constantly before your eyes landed on Justin’s, wild and red and sore. “Help me, please, I can’t lose him again.”

Justin hesitated once more, before he urged himself forward, peeling the heavy bag from his back to bring out the gauze and wrappings, whilst you sat and remained rigid, and you wished you could’ve stayed where you had been, to begin with.

-

You noticed now, how quiet things could be when you were left with just your thoughts, alone in the world when you pushed so many away. Your fingers were knotted together tightly, wrung together in a tangle when you fidgeted, nothing to distract you from the unknown time ticking.

“Hey, you’re the girlfriend of “Ryan”?”

You looked up to the woman who had come through to greet you in the small waiting room, blinking away your thoughts to be back with the present. “Yeah, yes… how is he doing?”

“He just came out of surgery and is in a stable condition.” Relief was one of the emotions you were feeling, but it was hard to explain anything else at that moment. “You can go in to see him shortly.”

“Thank you.” A gentle hand pressed into your shoulder, squeezing encouragingly. “Hey, he’s gonna be okay. He seems strong.”

“He is,” you uttered sadly. “He’s a fighter.”

-

“Ryan! Take it easy! We’ve got all night!”

Your laughter was bubbling, easy and light, as you were led down the long path, where the trees grew in size and foliage, grew thickest, hiding your bodies as you ran beneath the moonlight. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“We’re almost there.” He was not as out of breath as you had been, but his smile was bright and blooming, skin radiant as if he was reborn. “I’m not dragging you back to get more stitches.” The two of you stopped eventually, continuing at a brisk pace until you reached the end of the hill, watching over the once city the two of you had resided in, distant yet glooming.

“It… it still looks like shit as I remember it to be.” You exhaled, looking over Ryan from your right side. “That place still holds a lot to remember, don’t you think? The outbreak, the deaths, the burning of bodies.”

“I got to meet you.”

“You did,” you squeezed his hand encouragingly. “After I fell through the ceiling. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You shared a laugh, all thoughts aside when you stared across the distance. That city did hold some darkness and pain to you, but you knew that you would get out of there, not as one, but as two.

[eggtoasties]

Pairing: Eventual Osamu x Reader

Rating: E for fucking Samu in the car :-)

Word Count: 4.4k of Miya twin shenanigans, fluff, then eventual smut

Summary: A hopeful love and a blossomed love; years of wishing on candles and they’re both content.

a/n: @powderblew​ ur the hopeful love my beloved

Contrary to popular belief, Miya Atsumu does not speed. Yes, he nearly loses his mind on the interstate every other day but his road rage is completely contained to cursing in the confines of his car. Most people think Atsumu’s the reckless driver with his loud personality and penchant for pulling off risky moves on the court, but surprisingly, it’s his counterpart who fully believes that the actual speed limit is at least ten above the posted signage and weaves through lanes with one hand on the wheel and the other on her thigh.

Atsumu got Osamu the car as a birthday gift—black, sleek, and quiet. He had been dropping hints for weeks but Osamu had brushed them off, figuring his brother was spewing incoherent nonsense.

It was the weekend before their birthday. They decided to take a trip to the mountains—it was rare at this point in their young adult lives to have the free time to spend with each other. Osamu was busy with the shop: serving customers, preparing food, and trying new dishes. Getting Onigiri Miya off the ground was a seven day work week with early mornings and late nights. Atsumu on the other hand, had regularly scheduled practices and travel matches with the team. Although his schedule was incredibly hectic, there was a sort of rhythmic regularity to it.

So, for the first weekend in a long time where it would be just them, Atsumu wanted it to be special. Afterall, it was their birthday. Atsumu was the one who drove them to the campsite, taking in the scenery with appreciation, going slowly on the winding roads while mindlessly tapping a beat on the steering wheel. As they got closer and closer to their destination, Osamu could tell his brother was antsy.

His eyes would flicker from the road, to Osamu, then back again. His mindless tapping to the music turned into an incessant drilling and he kept readjusting his legs and changing his hand position on the wheel, fidgeting in his seat.

“Wouldya’ quit that, yer gonna crash the fuckin’ car,” Osamu said, exaggeratingly clutching to the grab handle at the top of his window.

“Yer really gonna yell at me on ma’ birthday that’s jus’ like ya’ Samu—”

“It’s ma’ birthday too ya’ idiot!”

The sound of his brother’s bickering quelled Atsumu’s nerves and he settled in the driver’s seat, humming along to the song playing on the speakers. In response, Osamu turned up the volume, but Atsumu just grinned.  

“You will arrive at your destination in .2 miles,” the smooth voice of the GPS chimed.

Atsumu began fidgeting again and Osamu swore he was gonna punch him the moment they made it out of the death trap.

They pulled into the winding driveway and Osamu banged his head against the dashboard.

“Please tell me ya’ didn’t screw up the reservation,” he said quietly.

“What kinda idiot, do ya’ take me for, Samu?” Atsumu whined. Although Osamu couldn’t see with his forehead pressed against the polished wood interior, Atsumu was smiling.

“Then why is there another car parked in our spot?” Osamu deadpanned, turning his head to his brother, still pressed into the dash.

“Look again an’ eat yer words ya’ scrub.”

Driving slowly forward towards the car and parking next to it, Osamu realized that a bright red bow was tied to the hood. He stilled in his seat and stared dumbly out his window, slowly turning towards his brother.

“Do ya’ like it, Samu?” Atsumu nearly whispered, leaning in close to his brother, eyes wide, committing every micro reaction to memory.

Osamu blinked once. Twice. Then turned back to the car.

“Yeah, Tsumu,” he said shakily, “I really do.”

Against the burning in his throat and the tightening of his eyes, Osamu willed himself to remain composed when he heard rustling. Atsumu took out a crumpled and worn piece of notebook paper, its edges frayed and torn and began to smooth it out in his palms.

He cleared his throat and stared at the empty space across Osamu’s shoulder.

“So, uh…” he began, uncharacteristically shy and Osamu sent a prayer that this wasn’t a speech about how Tsumu had somehow accidentally razed Onigiri Miya to the ground in the short period that he wasn’t there and this was all an elaborate apology.

“I know that this year’s been tough with Onigiri Miya jus’ startin’ out an’ everythin’ but I jus’ wanted to say,” Atsumu trailed off and scratched his ear before suddenly, startling Osamu, squaring his shoulders and directing a piercing stare into his brother’s eyes. “I’m so proud of you Samu!” he nearly yelled, face flushed with embarrassment.

Osamu felt the heat prickle against his neck and all he could do was blink owlishly at his twin.

“What on Earth are ya’ goin’ on about?” he questioned incredulously.

“Okay, okay, wait I wrote it all down,” Atsumu said quickly, smoothing the worn paper once again. He cleared his throat a few times before reading.

“Osamu—”

“Oh my god is this a proposal, why is this so formal?” Osamu asked out loud.

“God, shut yer big ol’ trap wouldya I am tryin’ here,” Atsumu bit back to the amusement of his twin. “Anyways,” he grumbled. “Samu. I’ve been thinkin’ for a while and I jus’ wanted to say thank ya’ for always bein’ there for me.”

Osamu did not often feel stupid. Well, that’s a lie, he thought. It’s been a year since Onigiri Miya’s opening and he was only just beginning to feel as if he was able to call his job stable and that he had a solid understanding of how things should be ran. However, it was not often that his brother made him feel stupid, but here he was, at a loss for words at this uncharacteristic show of appreciation.

Yes, high fives and hugs had always come easily after a particularly clean hit or a perfectly executed pass, but they never sat down like this and talked about how much they appreciated each other. Osamu figured it was unsaid in the little things—how the clothes Atsumu stole in high school always ended back clean in Osamu’s closet, how Osamu usually ended up making two bentos when they still lived together, or how Atsumu had always tried to include Osamu in team bonding even when Osamu was in college.

“I think,” Atsumu said, breaking Osamu out of his thoughts. “That you were what made me work so hard at volleyball. Not because you were the only one that could challenge me,” Osamu scoffed at this. “But because you were the only one I cared to play with for a long time.”

Tears pricked at his eyes and Osamu nodded at his brother to continue.

“An’ thinkin’ back, yer probably the only reason why ma’ teammates didn’t excommunicate me like they did to Tobio-kun,” Atsumu joked and Osamu cracked a smile despite the burning of his throat.

“An’ I know we’ve talked about this before, but I am still really sorry when I went off on ya’ when ya’ told me you were quittin’ volleyball. I don’t mean to beat a dead horse or anything—”

“You sound like Baa-chan,” Samu choked out, still trying to hold back tears, hands balled into fists on his lap.

Undeterred, Atsumu continued to read. “But the fact that fer the first time, ya’ wouldn’t be by my side on the court was jus’ never a possibility I’d considered. So ‘m sorry ‘bout the fuss I made even though I know that’s all old news.” He paused and nodded at Osamu, noting his fists and drew in a shaky breath.

“’Samu, I jus’ want to let ya’ know that I am so endlessly proud to be yer brother and all the work ya’ put in in college and startin’ Miya Onigiri honestly scared me a little,” he said chuckling. “The way you really focus in on somethin’ when yer concentrating was always so intense, but I’d only really seen it with volleyball. But ever since you went to college, and especially with this past year, I can’t believe I fought you to go pro with me because I’d never seen ya’ more fired up or intense than ya’ have been this past year.”

The sides of Atsumu’s paper begin to tear with the force of his grip, and both twins are mirror images of each other. Red in the face, hands in fists, and willing the other to cry first.

“Basically,” Atsumu drawled on, hands slightly shaking, “thank ya’ for bein’ the best brother and teammate I coulda’ ever asked for and I’m so, so, proud to be the brother of the founder of Onigiri Miya.” He lowered the paper from his line of vision and accidentally crumbled it with his hand as he blurt out, “And I love you!” turning even redder in embarrassment. “Even though ya’ never respond to my texts and make fun a’ me when I bring my teammates ‘round,” he quickly added in.

Osamu undid his seatbelt and forcefully opened his door. He heard Atsumu’s confused “huh” and watched as he fumbled with his seatbelt through the windshield as he crossed to the other side. Atsumu stumbled out of the driver’s seat and Osamu captured him in a bone crushing hug. One hand wrapped around his back and the other held Atsumu’s head as he cried into his neck.

He thought back to the first semester of culinary school when he questioned himself every single day if it was the right choice to have made. Learning and practicing different techniques that felt foreign was a hurdle that had seemed impossible at the time. Then, when he graduated and he figured he knew almost everything there was to know about the food industry after hours and hours of lab, internships, and class and began preparations for opening Miya Onigiri, he realized once again that he knew nothing. Even a year after founding Miya Onigiri and he still found himself doubting his success.

But, hearing his idiot brother tell him he was proud—was all he needed. Because Miya Osamu also pushed himself to the upper limits of his physical and mental abilities because his brother was the only one he wanted to compete with. It didn’t matter who else might try and challenge them, at the end of their finish lines, the only person they wanted to see was each other.

The autumnal air was incredibly crisp and although the forest surrounding their luxury cabin was teeming with life, time around them seemed to still as they both cried.

“This is too much, ‘Tsumu,” Osamu sniffled out. “My gift ta’ ya’ was literally like, two hundred dollars.”

“It’s okay,” sniffled Atsumu. He paused. “What’d ya’ get me?”

Osamu pulled away and wiped his face with the bottom hem of his sweater.

“I got ya’ a signed copy of that book you were yappin’ on about with yer favorite author and I got her to make a video for ya’ sayin’ happy birthday and all that—”

“Oh my god,” Atsumu said excitedly, “Yer tellin’ me ya’ got Sonia Barnes to write me a handwritten message and a private video!?”

Osamu grimaced at the snot Atsumu had dripping down his chin. “First of all don’t say it like that, an’ second of all, wipe yer nose or somethin’ ya’ scrub.”

Completley ignoring his brother’s complaints, Atsumu lunged at Osamu, begging him to show him the video. Osamu tapped at his phone, opened up the email attachment, and watched the myriad expressions of surprise, admiration, love, and happiness flicker across Atsumu’s face during a 20 second video while red eyed and swollen. He mused that this was possibly the best birthday they ever had.

.

“Let’s take this baby on a test drive,” Osamu said, eagerly waiting by the door as Atsumu watched his birthday video for the umpteenth time.

That Sonia Barnes was a very pretty lady, Osamu reasoned, but if he had to hear her chirp, “Happy Birthday Tsumu!” one more time, she was going to be the cause of fratricide.

.

Settling into the leather seat, Osamu pressed the start button and nearly cooed at the soft rumble of the engine.

Throwing himself into the passenger’s seat Atsumu said, “Let’s figure out how ta’ connect to Bluetooth so I can hear ma’ angel on speaker,” fiddling with the touch screen.

Osamu grabbed Atsumu’s phone and threw it in the backseat and put the car in drive just as Atsumu started to clamber in the back for it. He peeled down the driveway as Atsumu screamed and picked up speed down the secluded road as Atsumu managed to get back in his seat and secure the seat belt.

The pretty autumn foliage was a blur of orange and reds and Osamu breathed in the smell of new leather and wood polish.

“S-slow down!” Atsumu yelled, quickly activating the lock function on the seatbelt and gripping the grab handle with both hands. “I-is this b-because I told the whole team you’d giv’ em’ free food if they said they were my teammate,” he screamed, “I’ll tell ‘em nevermind!”

Osamu rolled down the windows and the sun roof and laughed as the wind ran through his hair while his brother cried for the second time that day.

.

A year later and Osamu’s still in the driver’s seat of his car, but this time, she’s in the passenger’s seat. They have all the windows down and he’s speeding along the coast of Hyogo, sea breeze whipping through their hair and the sound of waves breaking in the distance.

She had planned a full day for his birthday: brunch at their favorite restaurant, a walk through the shopping district, and a homemade dinner with a fruit tart from his favorite bakery. Now that he had two years of experience running Onigiri Miya, he could afford to step away from the shop every so often. Unfortunately, his counterpart was on the other side of the world for a match, but they managed to squeeze in a short videocall despite the time difference.

“’Samu!” Atsumu screamed from the other line, “Happy Birthday!”

Wincing, Osamu turned the volume of his phone down as she giggled and wished his brother a Happy Birthday.

“What’d ya’ plan for Samu’s birthday,” Atsumu asked her, “good luck beatin’ ma’ gift from last year—”

“Tsumu!” Osamu berated.

“Unfortunately, my research job doesn’t pay as much as being a pro-volleyballer,” she rolled her eyes, “but I do have some fun things lined up,” she said, smiling softly at Osamu to which Atsumu gagged.

“Ya’ scrub, just ‘cause yer jealous—”

“Tsumu!” she interrupted, “did you get our gift? We were a little nervous about the international shipping but your hotel said they got it so—”

“Yes!” Atsumu exclaimed, screen blurry as he shuffled around his hotel room. He set his phone down and propped it up, showing them the neatly packaged box. “I can’t believe ya’ got me another signed copy of Sonia Barnes’s book—I couldn’t even get this one off preorder, it was so popular—”

“Did ya’ open the envelope yet?” Osamu asked impatiently.

“Of course I did! I always open the letter before the present, what do ya’ take me for, Samu?” Atsumu whined, but the duo noticed how Atusmu’s hands were off screen and they could hear quiet tearing noises in between pauses.

Rolling their eyes, they patiently waited for Atsumu to unsubtly open their envelope. They watched as Atsumu quickly scanned the contents of the letter and Osamu hit screen record as his brother’s mouth dropped open.

“T-tickets to a live reading and meet and greet?” Atsumu whispered to himself. He pulled the letter closer to his face and read it over and over again before gingerly setting the cardstock down and gently looking into the envelope to produce two ticket stubs. Carefully placing the tickets back into the envelope, Osamu failed to cover his snickers as Atsumu’s lower lip trembled.

“I know it’s no car,” she said, “but I do happen to know people who know people, so I hope you like your gift, ‘Tsumu” she said kindly.

Atsumu suddenly held the phone close to his face and Osamu could see his brother’s ears turn pink.

“Yer the best sister in law I coulda’ ever asked for, I don’t know why yer with that good fer nothin’ scrub—yer not married yet, so ya’ still have time to run away, but ‘Samu, ya’ better not mess it up,” he rambled, roughly wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jacket.

Osamu scoffed and she placed a placating hand on his shoulder.

“I can’t believe I get ta’ meet ma’ angel,” Atsumu mumbled to himself in disbelief, pacing in his hotel room, running his hands through his hair. “Angel, angel, angel—I gotta bring ma’ copy of her books with ma’ notes! I have so many questions for her, like how she came up with the storyline—didya know she went to school in New York City? Isn’t that the coolest? And she made a video for me for ma’ birthday last year,” he broke his monologue to gasp. “Do ya’ think she’ll remember me—”

Osamu put him on mute and groaned.

“Maybe we shoulda jus’ gotten him those fancy mugs,” he complained, leaning heavily into her side.

She rubbed the sides of his neck as she watched with amusement as Atsumu continued his ramblings, completely unaware that she and Osamu were having a side conversation.

“But look how happy he is, Samu,” she crooned, giggling as Osamu pinched his nose bridge. But she knew that Osamu was the one who spent hours scouring the web for those tickets and sent several emails to Sonia Barnes’s manager for a signed copy.

Watching his brother run his mouth with no regard to himself or his girlfriend, Osamu clicked the unmute button and nearly yelled, “We get it ya’ scrub, we get it!”

“Let me be happy why dontcha!” Atsumu retorted.

“Alright well I’m gonna spend ma’ birthday with ma’ real girlfriend,” Osamu taunted, finger hovering over the ‘end call’ button.

“Once Sonia meets me she’s gonna fall in love, just ya’ wait!”

She yelled one last, “Happy Birthday!” before Osamu disconnected the call and tackled her into the bed.

.

For the end of his birthday, Osamu requested a car ride. It was just past sunset; the sky’s vibrant pinks and oranges faded into a cool indigo and the stars were extra bright in the rural area they were driving through.

They rode in comfortable silence, listening to seagulls call their good nights and the wind beating against the car. The supple leather of the seat underneath her contrasted with the rough pads of Osamu’s fingertips on her thigh and she stared out at the horizon, perpetually in awe of the beauty of the coast line. Here, twinkling city lights were hardly discernible specks in the distance and the only tall structures were the trees dotting the cliffside.

They rose higher in altitude until they were surrounded by lush forest—rustling underbush and singing cicadas took over the sound crashing waves. He pulled into a secluded nook that overlooked a cliff and she couldn’t believe they were only a forty minute drive from the main city.

He killed the engine and unbuckled her seat belt while she was still leaning forward, face close to the windshield, taking in the scenery.

“I’m feelin’ a bit neglected over here,” Osamu said, soft grin taking over his face as he watched her, lips parted and eyes wide.

“Sorry Samu,” she said, still looking out the glass, “it’s just so incredible here.”

“I told ya’ I knew a spot,” he teased and she intertwined her hand with his.

He pulled her arm towards him as leaned over the middle console so his lips caught her neck when she lurched towards him. Her surprised chuckle turned into a content hum, fluttering her eyes closed as he kissed the pulse point of her throat, her exposed shoulder, then where her neck met her clavicle. From there, he dragged his lips slowly to her ear and grinned when he felt her clutch at his sweater.

Nipping her ear and tracing the shell with his tongue, rough palms kneaded her thighs and his fingers played with the hem of her skirt. He let out a heavy breath when she brushed against his tightening pants and he smirked when she involuntarily shivered.

“Do ya’ like this?” he asked, mouth kissing down the expanse of her chest, pulling the hem of her shirt low.

She arched her back into him and guided his hand under her shirt and he grinned when she impatiently unhooked her bra and took it and her shirt off in one swift motion.

“Does that answer your question?”

Eyes half lidded, lips slick with spit and plump from his repeated ministrations, she had one leg folded under her and the other anchored to the floor. Fully facing him, she cocked her head to the side and dragged her eyes down his body, lingering for a moment before directing her heavy gaze at him. She leaned back against the door as he leaned forward on the middle console and she ran a hand slowly from her knee, teasing a peek under her skirt, tracing a finger around her navel, then making her way upwards, rolling a nipple with two fingers while slowly rocking her hips.

Osamu’s lips parted and his eyes flickered from her hands to her face as she brought her other hand to rub at the cotton beneath her legs. Gaze hungry, he licked his lips and rolled his neck, languidly leaning back against his door, mirroring her.

“Gonna give me a birthday show?” He rasped, slowly unbuttoning his pants and palming his length through his boxers.

Skirt bunched at the waist giving him an unhindered view of the growing wet stain between her legs and Osamu felt himself tighten at the sight. He wanted to press his nose against the ruined fabric and lap at her through her pink panties, he wanted to curl a finger in her and listen to her keel for him, he wanted to—

“Take your shirt off,” she demanded.

“I thought it was ma’ birthday,” he chuckled but does as she asks, pulling the fabric from the back of his neck. He tossed the garment to the backseat and lazily looked back at her.

The tops of her cheeks are flushed and her breasts shake with each pant. She’s worked two slender fingers from the side of her underwear and Osamu watches with rapt attention as her pretty folds are presented to him.

“Touch yourself, Samu.”

“Again with the demands,” he complained but freed himself from the confines of his boxers and matches the pace she’s set on herself.

“Fuck,” she whined, moving faster. The hand teasing her nipples moved south to pinch at her clit and Osamu couldn’t wait anymore.

He nearly launched himself to her, abdomen uncomfortably resting on top of the center console and she seemed all too satisfied with the result. He buried his face between her legs and groaned with her as he sucked and lapped at her overstimulated bundle of nerves through soaked cotton.

“Itadakimasu,” he growled and she rolled her eyes at the line.

Long languid licks interspersed with quick flicks of his tongue, he took her right to the edge of her orgasm. Her thighs clenched around his head while her nails dragged through his gray hair and she rocked her hips against his mouth. Toe curling heat had her buck helplessly against his tongue, rough hands gripping her in place as she reached her peak, but at the last second, he pulled away.

Her gasp was lost with the loud bang his head made as it slammed against the car ceiling and he let out a string of curses as he tried to fit in the passenger’s seat with her. She half stands, leaning back on the glove department as he sat down and she couldn’t help but giggle when he cursed at how slowly the seat was reclining back.

But just as quick, he grabbed her by the hands and has her straddle him. The seat is narrow but neither of them mind as he slowly entered her. She gripped at the back of his head as he teased a nipple and sucked constellations across her chest while her other hand gripped the grab handle, giving her more leverage.

Osamu slowly rocked into her and he captured her moans in a kiss. He gave her a second to adjust to his length before slamming into her, head falling back into the headrest as he watched her bounce above him.

Beautiful, was all he could think. Hair wild around her shoulders, a glistening sheen of perspiration across her forehead and chest, and the incredible sound of her slick around him. He was in heaven.

He slid his thumb between her parted lips and she immediately began to suck. She bobbed her head back and forth while giving kitten licks at the tip and nipping the underside of his thumb.

“Good girl,” he cooed as he pressed his finger further back in her throat and watched as her eyes rolled back and she rocked her hips even faster against his.

Removing his thumb and making a show of putting it in his mouth, he pressed the wet digit against her clit and grinned as her moans became louder.

The sweet call of his name as she begged him to make her finish led him to snap his hips up, rubbing against the spongy bit of her inner walls and he held her close to his chest as they came undone together.

Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead on her shoulder and watched as a rivulet of sweat ran down the valley of her breasts and he shifted his hips forward, just now noticing the dull ache in his thighs. She shuddered against him and he kissed her shoulder, her cheek, then her other cheek.

“We really have to thank Tsumu for the car,” she said, chuckling.

“Yeah?” he questioned, running his blunt nails across her back, “should we tell him what we used it for?”

She scrunched her nose and Osamu’s heart clenched too. Wrapping her arms around his neck, soaking in the warmth of his warm body, her lips ghosted the side of his cheek and he shuddered at the tingles running down his back with the contact.

“Happy Birthday, ‘Samu,” she whispered sweetly.

Rocking into her again just to hear her breath tick, he nestled his head into her neck and smiled.

[coeurdastronaute]

The Cover Story, Ch. 1

Greetings! This is a preview of my first chapter that I’m posting exclusively on my patreon. If you like it, I hope you follow along as I work on it there. I appreciate your time and thoughts and would love to hear what you think. 

Without further ado, or perhaps much ado about thing...

Lucy Madani was not going to cry. 

That was a lie. She might cry. She wanted to cry. She was known to cry very easily, but not without reason, and there certainly were more than enough reasons already for her to tear up as she stood on the corner and felt a wave of water from a bus going through a puddle splash her legs and skirt. It was only just after eight in the morning, and she was ready to crawl back into bed, admit defeat graciously, and sleep straight through to tomorrow. 

“I can’t talk right now, Baba,” Lucy muttered into her phone as she resumed her quick walk down the street. 

“You are mad, and we need to talk.” 

“Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to and I also can’t. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

“Your big interview pitch. I wanted to wish you good luck, but you stormed off.” 

“Yes, that is what one tends to do when their father informs them that he is getting engaged,” she fumed, her anger coming over her once again at the thought as she darted across the street, waving her hand at the honking car. 

She was an adult, she tried to remind herself. A full, grown adult. An adult-adult who barely had a stable job, had heaps of student loans, and still lived with her widowed father. She didn’t throw tantrums and she wasn’t going to cry about any of it. Today was too important for that, and she was going to nail the pitch and finally move on from puff pieces for teen magazines. She was going to make the jump to serious journalist. She was going to be requested, by name. 

Today she was not going to cry. 

At least not on purpose. 

“Will you be home for dinner?” 

Luckily, he knew enough to sound sorry, though it wasn’t enough of a victory for her, only fueling the prickling behind her eyes. 

“No, I’m going over Laila’s. I’ll just stay there. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with her.” 

“Lucy joon, please talk to me. I know you’re mad-- you have your mother’s temper, but I think we should talk about this.” 

“I’m going into my meeting. We’ll talk sometime this week,” she offered, shaking her head. “Just… I have to go.” 

She didn’t wait for much of a reply because she knew he was playing low, dragging her mother into it. It only made it worse. Shoes sloshing against the tile of the lobby, she made her way to the elevator and decided firmly, once again, that she was not going to cry. 

Her phone chimed with a handful of well wishes and good luck’s from the group chat and she thanked them quickly before trying to find the meeting information from her calendar, head down and lost in her own world as she stepped into the elevator and right into a stranger. 

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy hurried, looking forward and then following the chest and then long pale neck up a few more inches to an amused smirk and eyes hidden by wayfarer sunglasses. 

“Not a problem. I was in the way.” 

The stranger ran her hand through a mop of curly copper hair atop her head, faded on the sides and shaggy on top, decidedly better put together than any tiktok boy’s. Her small smile pulled at bow-shaped lips and left dimples on both cheeks, and there were too many freckles to even begin counting. Lucy gulped before moving to the side and slinking to the back corner. 

Of course she would get into an elevator with the hottest woman she’d ever seen. Of course she would nearly plow her over in her hurry. Of course she would be sweet and smile like that and have an adorably shaped chin and face. Of course Lucy would do all of that while looking like something the cat dragged in after a bad night. 

But luck wasn’t with her today, and she was unable to hide too long, as no one else got on behind her and she heaved the heaviest sigh before looking down at her ruined stockings, spattered with mud and whatever else was festering in that puddle. Her skirt was soaked still and dripping and she was beginning to really feel it sinking into her skin. Phone clutched tightly in her hand, she felt the weight of it all and didn’t know what to do with it. 

From under her brow she looked up to study the back of the stranger, their long legs and black jeans, their primly tucked in black t-shirt that stretched slightly across her shoulders, and the softest looking hair in the most beautiful shade of red she’d ever seen. 

The elevator ascended approximately three floors before she started crying. Alligator tears slipped down her cheeks before she could do anything to stop them. And then the stranger cleared their throat and quietly turned around to verify what was happening, was actually happening, only making it worse. 

But she didn’t say anything, just turned back around, and with the smallest movement stretched an arm forward to hold the elevator between floors, and quickly, Lucy turned herself around and faced the wall. She took a few steadying breaths and wiped her cheeks, mentally preparing to leave everything else behind and focus on the moment-- when she would be selling herself to one of the largest companies of all time to be the writer of the profile of their Director of Creative Design before they went public. She’d prepared. She was ready. Nothing else mattered and she was a goddamn adult. 

The stranger, the kind, hot stranger pushed her sunglasses up into the messy curly hair and offered a smaller smile than before, the communal ‘it’ll be okay’ without saying anything. Lucy didn’t register much of it, just stared at the grey-green of her eyes, forgetting all else, and especially that she was a goddamn adult who desperately needed a payday to move out of her father’s place and away from whoever was moving into her mother’s side of the bed. 

“I’m not usually,” she began, but bit her tongue because she didn’t want to lie. She was usually like this, just occasionally less muddy. “Thank you.” 

“We can stay a few more minutes if you’d like. I don’t really want to go to work today.” 

For the first time all day, Lucy smiled genuinely and felt lighter. It was that quick and that easy. 

“It’s okay. I’m ready.” 

A curt nod led to a stretch again and the elevator started once more. Lucy leaned across and pressed the button for her floor, catching a whiff of a distinctly woodsy smell, like sandalwood perhaps? There was a hit of lavender? Maybe cedar? It was wonderful. She wanted to breathe in more of it, but retreated before she was the girl who cried and sniffed people in the elevator. 

The silence was oddly comfortable for a few more seconds until it dinged and she took the step out. The stranger politely held the door and offered one final smile, complete with just one dimple this time. 

“Good luck,” she winked before pulling back, hands clasped loosely in front of her before the doors closed forever. 

It couldn’t get better than that, Lucy decided, staring at the elevator doors and steadying herself once again. But she was hoping it couldn’t get worse either. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn Sullivan wanted to die. 

Not really die, but she might have taken a good coma. Just for like a week maybe. Or six months. Something long enough to beat out this hangover she was sporting, courtesy of her very thoughtful best friend, and if she was lucky, long enough to survive the offering and release of the new game. Maybe a year-long coma? Was that too much to ask for, honestly? Maybe the universe could toss her a bone, just this once, especially after the previous year of her life. 

But in lieu of a swift and merciful death and/or coma, she was just going to have to survive the giant hangover that was currently attacking her body. All she needed was a quiet day and an extra large piece of leftover pizza she was certain was waiting in the staff fridge somewhere. Maybe some birthday cake--

And then a five-five wrecking ball of a human barreled into her chest. 

The rest of her ride up, Quinn thought about the weird trip it’d been, and if she should have done something different. And then she beat herself up for winking. Who winked? Why did she wink? She’d never done it before. But she earned a smile from a cute girl, and there was a tiny flutter at the base of her rib cage, one she hadn’t noticed in a long, long time. She pressed her fingertips there for the rest of the ride to her floor. 

With a groan, she put her sunglasses back on as the elevator dinged to her floor and took a deep breath to prepare for her day, not allowing her brain to trace out an entire life with the cute, crying stranger where they bought peaches at the farmer’s market on Saturday’s and danced in the kitchen. Romance was dead and dreaming was forbidden. 

“Aspirin is already on your desk,” Jenny greeted her cheerfully. “With an egg sandwich and some fruit.”

“No leftover pizza?” Quinn didn’t pout, but she might have for that.

“Trust me, this will fix you up much better. I went to a state school, remember, MIT?” 

“We partied…” Quinn trailed off as she pushed open the door to her office. 

She hadn’t partied, but she was certain people had to have partied. It was college, and though it was many moons ago, she certainly couldn’t remember hangovers feeling like this. Maybe this is what almost thirty felt like. That thought didn’t help with the headache.

“All-night coding sessions don’t count. Eat the food. I’ll hold the wolves at bay as long as I can, but Chris and the Exlust team are adamant you have the meeting today to resolve story issues.” 

Quinn tossed back the aspirin before she even sat down. Maybe Jenny was her universal compensation. The shades were already drawn so her normally bright office was much more tolerable. Even the eggs didn’t make her stomach swirl, and she was grateful her assistant learned something useful while studying biomedical engineering.. 

“I just need like an hour to work something out. I had an idea last night--”

“Before or after the sangria?” 

“During. Definitely during, but still. I just need to work through it and then they can tear me to shreds. Can you add to my calendar a warning to never drink again?” 

Quinn was fairly certain she’d texted her assistant that at some point in the morning. Probably before the shower, but after the first cup of coffee. 

“Gladly,” Jenny smiled softly. “You doing okay? It’s been a while since you tied one on like this.” 

“I’m fine. Just celebrating with Darcy. No more sad drinking, I believe was the rule you came up with and I follow all of your rules.” 

With a roll of the eyes, files were placed on her desk and her assistant retreated to the ringing phones, which when the door was held open, were actual torture devices to Quinn’s brain. 

“Sadie wants your afternoon free. I think it’s another reporter.” 

“She’s relentless.” 

“Maybe you’re impossible?” 

“It’s genetic then,” Quinn sighed, munching on a grape and tugging open a notebook. “One hour, please?” 

“I got you, boss.” 

“Thanks.” 

Never quite sure how Jenny did it, Quinn chose not to ask any questions. But when she asked for an hour, she got it. And despite the headache and laziness in her muscles, the food and aspirin did help so that by the end of her allotted time, she felt like she had captured the breakthrough that appeared to her the night before. 

Before she could admire her work though, her team filed in and she was prepared to start her day, finally, even with the nagging idea of a reporter nipping at her thoughts through it all. 

Somewhere between her breakfast and lunch, Quinn felt better. She fired off a few texts to see how Darcy was handling it and received only pictures of a half obscured but obviously still in bed face and chuckled to herself. It was a slower day, and she wasn’t about to waste it with a hangover. She should give Jenny a raise, she decided, because the woman could cure hangovers. Maybe submit her for the Nobel for Science. 

“Sadie is here,” her assistant buzzed and Quinn lost all forms of motivation. 

Her head hit her desk dramatically as the door opened and her sister walked in. Slightly shorter, but older by two years, Sadie was nearly everything Quinn could never manage to be despite her best intentions. She had the MBA from Harvard and the doting husband that came with it, a cute brownstone near White Hill and the park, and her first baby on the way. But even past her resume, Sadie Sullivan-Hawkins was personable and charismatic. She was adored and shrewd, capable of disarming anyone and eviscerating the others. It all came so easy to her, to have people around, to talk and be listened to, to be loved. She was a shark in business, and at the same time warm and put people at ease. 

Quinn could barely tie her shoes and Sadie was running a marathon in life. 

“Want to talk about it?” Sadie smiled as she took the seat across from Quinn’s desk. 

“About what?” 

“Why you’re getting drunk with Darcy on a Tuesday?” 

“She got the job at Taylor and Vine. We were celebrating.” 

“So not about Chloe’s announcement in the Times?” 

Quinn played dumb, typing gibberish into her phone because she didn’t want to look at her sister’s kind and caring face. If she looked, then she’d have more feelings, and for the life of her, she just wanted the incessant tinnitus of the break up to disappear completely. 

“Nope, I caught that this morning though, so I was in the right physical and mental place to really wallow. I don’t care about her.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“I have these notes to get done for the Shadow Operation team before our meeting with design. I’m fine. My ex can marry whoever she wants-- God knows she didn’t want to marry me. Good luck to the next sap.”

This made her sister chuckle, and Quinn smiled quietly to herself. There was still a bitterness there that she couldn’t get rid of. It was masking potentially the worst hurt imaginable. She preferred the bite of the bitter though. Easier to navigate. 

“I have someone I want you to meet with.” 

“Oh, fuck off Sadie,” Quinn moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen. “I’m not talking to anyone. You’re the face of this outfit. That’s what you told me.” 

“You’ve run off three other reporters. Our public offering is going to underperform if there is no faith in the heart of our company,” she explained, sitting up a little straighter. “And that’s you. I might crunch the numbers and keep the lights on, but you are what people are buying.”

“Then you tell them about me. I don’t even have to be there.”

“If only that were true, my job would be a lot easier.” 

At a stalemate, the sisters stared at each other for a few moments before Sadie broke, making a face as she smiled towards her lap, running her hand over the smallest bump barely showing. Quinn shook her head and looked away. Anywhere else was better than the damn disapproving look leveled at her now. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Quinn finally muttered. “I don’t want to-- I can’t--”

“Chloe was an idiot. She broke your heart. Now, you barely exist, but I know that you’re still you. And we need this.” 

“I can’t. I really can’t. I wish you’d get it.” 

It hurt too much all over again. In a weird way, Quinn missed the feeling of the hangover because at least that was a useful ache. The dull throbbing in her chest and bones just felt hollow and haunting. 

“We have a meeting with her. I’ve already walked her through the contracts and final edits, as well as shown her around. Please just rip the bandaid off and get it over with. She’s good. I’ve read a few of her pieces and Donna recommended her to me.” 

Sadie had their mother’s eyes. It drove Quinn crazy, that she looked like she didn’t belong in her own family. It also meant it felt like her mom was staring at her and reminding her to do her chores. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting her head lull to the side. 

“I’ll… I’ll try.” 

“Yes! I knew it. Thank you. Seriously, Q. It’s going to be great. This is going to--”

“I said I’ll try. I didn’t say I’d do it.” 

“It’ll be great,” Sadie ignored the warning, hopping up from her chair and moving to the door to beckon the reporter in. “Come in and meet the genius of the whole outfit.” 

Quinn rubbed her face with her hands, digging her fingers into the corners of her eyes under her glasses before steadying herself. She could do it for her sister, she reminded herself, and that stupid niece or nephew she was incubating. 

Maybe it would be as simple as ripping off a band-aid. Maybe she could just let a stranger rifle through her entire life and being, except that she wasn’t sure there was anything there anymore. Everything felt like she was going through the motions, and it was terrifying to Quinn to let someone see that she was barely stitched together. How could she explain that there was nothing behind door number one? Let alone number two or number three. 

“Quinn, this is Lucy Madani. She’s a freelancer hired by New York Magazine. She did a great piece on the Attorney General last month and her article on the director who went on to win Cannes went viral.” 

There was still mud on her skirt, but her stockings had been disbanded, gone forever, but it was unmistakable the stranger from the elevator standing in her office. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, and yet Quinn tried to swallow. 

“You have longer hair, in the pictures I found of you online,” Lucy offered, overcoming her surprise much quicker. She stuck out her hand over Quinn’s desk and waited for her to shake it. 

She was a reporter. A reporter who cried in the elevator. A reporter Quinn had, if she were being honest, checked out. But foremost, she was a reporter. She wanted to dive into the deepest parts of Quinn’s brain for profit, mutual benefit and all. It sounded dreadful. 

The universe did not owe her anything, Quinn remembered, but the perpetual mocking was getting a little over the top. 

“Quinn Sullivan,” she shook the hand presented and tried to breathe. Lucy’s hand was warm and felt soft. She wasn’t sure how to let go. “How’s it going?” 

Fuck! Her mind blared as she dropped the reporter’s hand and mentally beat herself to a pulp. Who talked like that? And still, she could not answer, winked?

“It’s been a day,” she smiled, nodding to herself as she accepted the seat Quinn offered. “Your sister has sung your praises all morning though. I feel like I could write about your without even meeting you.”

“Great. Let’s do that.” 

Sadie laughed but gave Quinn a stern look. 

“I’m going to go grab you some passes and copies of the contracts,” Sadie smiled graciously at Lucy before turning to her sister. “Listen to her pitch.” 

“Seems it’s been decided,” she muttered to herself before plastering on a smile. 

“Don’t have too much fun. I’ll be right back.” 

And with that she truly was gone, and Quinn was left in her office with the reporter who had pretty eyes. They felt like syrup-- warm and deep brown, gooey and sticky. Her face was longer, her nose thin and long, her lips full and bitten-- and Quinn snapped herself out of her perusal and felt her chest warm too much. No, the universe didn’t owe her anything, and the punishment for thinking it did was sitting across from her in a muddy skirt and gentle smile.

For just a moment, Quinn held her breath and willed a coma..

[metvmorqhoses]

i have a headcannon that voldemort never really “punishes” bella when she does something wrong, but his punishments to other death eaters are way way worse & so she’s obligated to act as if vold has given her a worse punishment than he actually has. not that she does a lot of things wrong as his “most faithful” though. i’m talking about the occasional slip up like the department of mysteries thing. had that been someone else, he probably would’ve harmed them more, let alone wouldn’t save then from some witch statue holding them down.

this is very true, anon. so true, in fact, i actually consider this much more a canon fact than mere speculation.

sorry if this is very long, but for every thousand of anti-bellamort idiots there must be a very precise bellamort’s defense attorney lol

correct me if i am wrong, but to my knowledge not once in the books a physical punishment coming from voldemort is ever mentioned in relation to bellatrix - and even if, let's be real, after his "rebirth" she became involved in literally the majority of the most crucial errors, the worst happenings ever, that ultimately brought to no less than his very downfall.

and yet, still, she came out of it all not only unscathed, but treated very specially.

even to a lazy reader, this should at least come across as peculiar.

let’s take the primary example of what i am saying, the battle of the department of mysteries.

just freed from azkaban and after being showered in honors and recognition, the first pivotal mission bellatrix was entrusted with was a damning fiasco.

true, it was not entirely her fault, lucius was in fact “in charge” of it, but let’s be real, do you really think voldemort sent his literal general with that malfoy dandy, his pupil, his most trusted and powerful lieutenant, just for company? just as a henchman? as i have always interpreted it, bellatrix was there to keep an eye on lucius, whose silver tongue was famously more apt to political plotting than to field missions.

voldemort wasn’t trusting lucius with the prophecy that had literally already meant almost death to him once, it would have been madness to. you can say anything about voldemort, but certainly not that he was an idiot.

i actually don’t think he ever trusted lucius at all. lucius had renounced him after his fall and didn’t manage to paint the fact as pragmatically as snape did, the cowardly aftertaste of his betrayal blatant and thoroughly disgusting on voldemort’s tongue. lucius’ status, family name, relations and wealth were just very useful for the movement and likely the only things that kept him in the high ranks of the regime (or alive at all) even before the fiasco, along with his marriage to bellatrix’s sister.

i am positive voldemort was in fact trusting bella to see the prophecy retrieved.

he probably didn’t officially put her in charge because she was still recovering from azkaban and therefore not completely stable or/and already with child (even if i tend to exclude the latter option, since she would have been still entirely too weak for a pregnancy to even take).

still, she was the one with the highest military rank there, not to mention the highest degree of closeness to voldemort, so you can bet she was the one that bore also the highest degree of moral obligation in that delicate situation. and she failed.

knowing voldemort, you would have expected to see killing curses flying left and right. had bellatrix been literally anyone else, she could have easily returned home to a murdered family and a pending death penalty.

instead, you see a voldemort that walks into the ministry of magic. you see a voldemort that, even already knowing the prophecy lost forever, renounces his every advantage and reveals himself once again to the wizarding world, moreover having to fight at the same time his very nemesis (nemesis that the mission should have helped him understand better and therefore defeat), dumbledore (the greatest wizard alive besides him) and soon the entirety of the aurors of britain.

what was exactly the reason that compelled him to enter such a nest of vipers, when he had been unwilling to do so in secrecy and surely in a highest degree of safety before and to retrieve the prophecy himself? to kill harry potter?

the very reason of the mission tells us he wasn’t sure about what to do with his potter dilemma and had therefore decided to have a more cautious, academical approach regarding the matter. he wanted to know the whole prophecy before trying again. he was frustrated and puzzled about harry’s absurd invincibility and insolent luck. do you really think he had decided to go for the hardest battle of his life unprepared and with dumbledore present of all people (whom he didn’t even directly kill afterwards) and possibly hundreds more on the way?

had voldemort suddenly turned from cold strategist to hotheaded kamikaze?

the only plausible answer is that voldemort had purposefully entered the ministry, risking capture and possibly his very life (or at least his newly created body, since at this point the horcruxes are still intact and a secret) and not knowing what exactly was there waiting for him, as a rather valiant rescue attempt and quite an unexpected one too.

bellatrix herself just moments before had laughed at the absurdity of the possibility of voldemort ever entering the place in response to harry’s questioning:

“Get it himself?” shrieked Bellatrix on a cackle of mad laughter. “The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin?”

bellatrix herself believed it an impossible and ludicrous thought and yet, less than half an hour later and her life in jeopardy, there voldemort surely appeared.

you could speculate he wanted to save his most valuable, just freed death eaters and then couldn’t, but there’s no evidence of it in the chapter whatsoever. the only evidence points out to the fact he was focused only on saving bellatrix.

this is in fact what lucius tells his hunting party while harry and co are trying to escape the ambush:

Harry put his ear close to the door to listen and heard Lucius Malfoy roar: “Leave Nott, leave him, I say, the Dark Lord will not care for Nott’s injuries as much as losing that prophecy — Jugson, come back here, we need to organize! We’ll split into pairs and search, and don’t forget, be gentle with Potter until we’ve got the prophecy, you can kill the others if necessary — Bellatrix, Rodolphus, you take the left, Crabbe, Rabastan, go right — Jugson, Dolohov, the door straight ahead — Macnair and Avery, through here — Rookwood, over there — Mulciber, come with me!”

so, la crème de la crème of his high ranks is there and everyone is positive the only thing that voldemort would care about is the prophecy, even above captures and fatalities.

rabastan and rodolphus are also there and yet he doesn’t go for them.

he appeared when harry told bellatrix the prophecy was gone, specifically when bellatrix began to have a manic fit because of it, alone in the ministry’s atrium with harry.

“Potter, I am going to give you one chance!” shouted Bellatrix. “Give me the prophecy — roll it out toward me now — and I may spare your life!”

“Well, you’re going to have to kill me, because it’s gone!” Harry roared — and as he shouted it, pain seared across his forehead. His scar was on fire again, and he felt a surge of fury that was quite unconnected with his own rage.

“And he knows!” said Harry with a mad laugh to match Bellatrix’s own. “Your dear old mate Voldemort knows it’s gone! He’s not going to be happy with you, is he?”

“What? What do you mean?” she cried, and for the first time there was fear in her voice.

“The prophecy smashed when I was trying to get Neville up the steps! What do you think Voldemort’ll say about that, then?”

His scar seared and burned. . . . The pain of it was making his eyes stream. . . .

“LIAR!” she shrieked, but he could hear the terror behind the anger now. “YOU’VE GOT IT, POTTER, AND YOU WILL GIVE IT TO ME — Accio Prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY !”

Harry laughed again because he knew it would incense her, the pain building in his head so badly he thought his skull might burst. He waved his empty hand from behind the one-eared goblin and withdrew it quickly as she sent another jet of green light flying at him. “Nothing there!” he shouted. “Nothing to summon! It smashed and nobody heard what it said, tell your boss that —”

“No!” she screamed. “It isn’t true, you’re lying — MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED — DO NOT PUNISH ME —”

“Don’t waste your breath!” yelled Harry, his eyes screwed up against the pain in his scar, now more terrible than ever.

“He can’t hear you from here!”

“Can’t I, Potter?” said a high, cold voice.

specifically, he appears behind bella when she starts to maniacally invoke him, almost as if they had a special mean of communication with each other even from considerable distance.

(here bella is afraid voldemort would punish her and i find the manner of it very interesting, we will come back to it later on)

voldemort was obviously furious the prophecy was lost, but again why risking his own life on top of it? was he perhaps concerned of bella’s mental state now that she knew she had failed and therefore her ability to flee/fight his very nemesis, dumbledore and the aurors?

normally, we would have expected voldemort to stay away and deal with the surviving death eaters later, leaving them to their deserved destiny (as he did with literally everyone else who was there).

instead we have:

“So you smashed my prophecy?” said Voldemort softly, staring at Harry with those pitiless red eyes. “No, Bella, he is not lying. . . . I see the truth looking at me from within his worthless mind. . . . Months of preparation, months of effort . . . and my Death Eaters have let Harry Potter thwart me again. . . .”

“Master, I am sorry, I knew not, I was fighting the Animagus Black!” sobbed Bellatrix, flinging herself down at Voldemort’s feet as he paced slowly nearer.

“Master, you should know —”

“Be quiet, Bella,” said Voldemort dangerously. “I shall deal with you in a moment. Do you think I have entered the Ministry of Magic to hear your sniveling apologies?”

“But Master — he is here — he is below —”

Voldemort paid no attention.

“I have nothing more to say to you, Potter,” he said quietly. “You have irked me too often, for too long. AVADA KEDAVRA!”

even when she literally has just lost his one mean to achieve his every goal of a lifetime, she is “bella”. even when we would expect him to tear her to pieces then and there, he had come to stand between her and harry.

the only reprimand she receives is a scowling “be quiet bella, i shall deal with you in a moment”, as you would speak in public with someone who is very close to you and you are very mad at, who shouldn’t let that closeness slip in public, especially now that she’s making you risk a lot to save her sorry ass.

i find this scene very comic, on top of everything else. voldemort is clearly so done and yet there he is, come to save his sobbing mess nevertheless.

the scene proceeds with dumbledore’s arrival, the duel and bellatrix trapped under the statue. during the duel and just after having trapped bella, we see a really curious exchange:

“You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?” called Voldemort, his scarlet eyes narrowed over the top of the shield. “Above such brutality, are you?”

“We both know that there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom,”

Dumbledore said calmly, continuing to walk toward Voldemort as though he had not a fear in the world, as though nothing had happened to interrupt his stroll up the hall. “Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit —”

“There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!” snarled Voldemort.

“You are quite wrong,” said Dumbledore, still closing in upon Voldemort and speaking as lightly as though they were discussing the matter over drinks.

(...)

"Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness —”

what is this fate “worse than death”, these “other ways to destroy a man” that dumbledore wants for voldemort? we know how it all ended - with voldemort’s literal death, his very disintegration (after bellatrix’s very own). what was this all about then? this one i’ll let you decide for yourself. it’s certainly peculiar, considered the context.

voldemort doesn’t respond to this, he in fact seems very provoked and sends a killing curse at him.

at the end of the duel he disappears and everyone thinks he fled, bellatrix included, who cries out his name sobbing from under the statue.

he in fact, at that, goes straight to possess harry.

And then Harry’s scar burst open. He knew he was dead: it was pain beyond imagining, pain past endurance —

He was gone from the hall, he was locked in the coils of a creature with red eyes, so tightly bound that Harry did not know where his body ended and the creature’s began. They were fused together, bound by pain, and there was no escape — And when the creature spoke, it used Harry’s mouth, so that in his agony he felt his jaw move. . . .

“Kill me now, Dumbledore. . . .” Blinded and dying, every part of him screaming for release, Harry felt the creature use him again. . . .

“If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. . . .”

Let the pain stop, thought Harry.

Let him kill us. . . . End it, Dumbledore. . . . Death is nothing compared to this. . . .

And as Harry’s heart filled with emotion, the creature’s coils loosened, the pain was gone, Harry was lying facedown on the floor, his glasses gone, shivering as though he lay upon ice, not wood. . . .

And there were voices echoing through the hall, more voices than there should have been (...)

“...where’s Voldemort, where — who are all these — what’s —”

The Atrium was full of people. The floor was reflecting emerald- green flames that had burst into life in all the fireplaces along one wall, and a stream of witches and wizards was emerging from them. As Dumbledore pulled him back to his feet, Harry saw the tiny gold statues of the house-elf and the goblin leading a stunned-looking Cornelius Fudge forward.

“He was there!” shouted a scarlet-robed man with a ponytail, who was pointing at a pile of golden rubble on the other side of the hall, where Bellatrix had lain trapped moments before. “I saw him, Mr. Fudge, I swear, it was You-Know-Who, he grabbed a woman and Disapparated!”

“I know, Williamson, I know, I saw him too!”

this passage is ever so interesting to me, because dumbledore’s words appear to have somehow made voldemort “emotional”. they provoked him somehow. he didn’t laugh at them. he linked them to the worst pain imaginable and almost killed harry with it, posing a philosophical dilemma - if such pain is worse than death, if my life is worse than death, why don’t you put this boy out of his misery?

there’s no doubt in my mind “that pain” is voldemort’s pain. a pain intrinsically love-related. voldemort’s problems to accept/understand/feel love are the crux of the saga, his every villainy and pain. it’s so interesting that in this whole scene the train of events and thought have ultimately reached this topic (even in the movie love is mentioned here, harry literally fights the possession telling him he shall never have it).

voldemort was furious with bellatrix, feared for his plans and life and went to save her anyway. he is enraged beyond belief but puts himself between her and harry and dumbledore. while they duel, dumbledore traps bellatrix and lectures him about “other ways to destroy a man” and “worse things than death”. he absolutely hits a nerve. voldemort completely feels what he’s meaning, so much he wants to retaliate and mercilessly - he never wants to be forced to face such things, such emotions. i don’t think he’s trying to kill harry there, he’s trying to prove a point, to make them both understand how it feels to be him, how the whole concept of love feels to him. and the matter is addressed in a scene entirely built around bellatrix. in fact, finally he then grabs her, leaving everyone else to fend for themselves, and flees. he effectively saves her and her only.

to me this whole passage is directly linked to the famous scream at bellatrix’s death, and to the way the events leading to voldemort’s own death unfolded. that scream might very well be that “fate worse than death”. jkr loves parallels and to me this one is perhaps the most beautiful of the series.

this really proves, in my opinion, at what depth their relationship stands, absurdly perhaps much more abysmal on voldemort’s part than on bella’s.

anyways, i took the time to analyze this particular episode because it’s emblematic of their relationship and his way to deal with her disasters.

lucius would carry on his face the signs of this fiasco literally for the rest of the entire series. the malfoys would fall from grace because of it, probably alive only because of bella’s intercession. half of the death eaters who were present at the ministry would end up back in azkaban.

voldemort would end up defeated, furious and destined to die.

bellatrix would come out of it not only physically unscathed, but with voldemort’s child.

even when she again loses the trio at malfoy’s manor (along with the sword), everyone ends up physically tortured but her. she says she fears for her life if voldemort was to know she lost the sword, but it seems more a metaphor than an actual possibility. when the cup is stolen from her vault, he makes her leave the room before murdering everyone in it. she’s not present at dumbledore’s assasination, and that’s because she wasn’t disposable.

i don’t think physical punishments are involved in their relationship, or if they are they are very rare, and i don’t think voldemort’s reactions to her transgressions/wrongdoings are in tune with the way he reacts to everyone else’s.

bella can more than anyone with him and never really loses this status of utter closeness, no matter what she does.

this obviously doesn’t mean that voldemort is a saint with her or that he doesn’t occasionally punish her. this doesn’t mean she isn’t rightfully afraid of him.

yet, the main way i see him actually hurting bella is psychological torture and silent treatment.

and here we come back at what bella was sobbing at the ministry, her desperate “MASTER, I TRIED, I TRIED — DO NOT PUNISH ME —”.

i don’t think a warrior, a general, a woman who remarkably survived 14 years at azkaban, would ever react this way to the mere fear of physical punishment, no matter how cruciatus curses hurt. i think she would have taken it as stoically as possible. thought she deserved it, even.

no, voldemort’s punishments must be unbearable to her, impossible to even fathom, because they involve falling from his graces, from the closeness she lives for. voldemort can serve bellatrix the cold, silent, disappointed treatment of a mentor and a lover, and have bellatrix literally rotting away because of it.

this is truly the worst thing he can do to her and the thing that had her sobbing and having a fit before harry at the mere idea of it.

this is also somehow confirmed when hermione, transformed in bellatrix, meets a death eater (i don’t remember who he was) before entering the gringott. he wasn’t surprised to see bella, well, alive and physically well, he was surprised to see her out of malfoy manor, where she was supposed to be confined.

so yes, definitely the way voldemort deals with bellatrix regarding punishments is special. everything regarding his way of treating bellatrix is, to be honest.

their relationship is written in such a subtle, beautifully twisted way. i adore it. the only problem is that because of it virtually no one ever connects the dots.

[its-deputy-caleb]

would u possibly do some NSFW morbell? where they're up in colter ( i loved ur original morbell post on them ) pls do more as i love ur blog 💛

this is an absolute mess oml i literally have no idea how to write anything smutty but here we go i guess. I love this pair but i kinda went off topic and centred this on a praise kink for micah. ANYWAY this is probably terrible since i'm melting, its literally 40 degrees and the aircon is broken so its unedited af and i wont look at it again until i have a cold drink. but pls enjoy some morbell <333

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

‘Cold up in Colter’

Fuck, what a mess Blackwater had been. The Pinkertons were on them faster than ever and they found themselves fleeing from a blood bath.

That was almost three days ago and Micah hadn’t had an ounce of sleep. He’d been sent out with John to scout ahead, having found a homestead which ended up burning at the hand of O’Driscoll’s. Okay maybe house burning down was his fault but he tends to make stupid decisions when he’s had little to know sleep. And it was so fucking cold.

That didn’t stop heat rising to his face when he felt Arthur’s hands on his shoulder, pushing him back with a roughness he could only wish for in another way. Damn Arthur Morgan and his ability to have Micah curling in on himself and blushing like a virgin at the mere thought of a hand on his shoulder.

He should hate Arthur, really the two are nothing more than rivals, competing for the spot of Dutch Van Der Linde’s right hand. At the beginning, almost six months ago now, Micah couldn’t stand the sight of the man but somehow that anger tapered off into something more akin to admiration and that admiration slowly turned to desire.

He’ll never admit to how badly he wants Arthur but he won’t deny however that he’s pushed the man’s buttons more than once just to have an interaction with him. All he had to do start a silly argument over camp earnings or a bet at five finger fillet to have the man shaking him by the collar and threatening to break his nose.

It almost always ended with Micah sneaking off into the woods with half a bottle of whiskey and his pants bunched around his ankles as he thought of the way Arthur roughed him up by his shirt collar. Fuck he was pathetic sometimes.

There were other occasions where the two had actually managed to get along and that’s what pissed Micah off more than any threats of violence. Arthur just had to go and bring him a beer as he grabbed one for himself, letting their fingers touch accidentally. Or he went and offered him a seat by the fireplace where they ended up much to close for his comfort. Damn Arthur for always leaving him short of breath with a hole in his heart.

Despite what Micah did to impress Dutch, Arthur was still the camp’s favourite by a mile and he never failed to outcompete him in the eyes of the gang. Micah never minded much, not looking for anyone’s approval, but the thought of proving himself to Arthur, of being worthy of his praise is enough to have his wild side reined in.

Naturally that didn’t stop Micah from losing it from time to time and wasn’t surprised when his jealousy shot up again as Miss Grimshaw announced Arthur got his own cabin while he shared with the rest of the fellers. And he’d be damned if he had to share a room with Williamson who didn’t stop snoring.

That’s why he found himself huddled in the makeshift stables, choosing instead to wrap himself in his coat and down a bottle of whiskey to wait the night out. He cold planks he was sitting on offered little comfort and the draft in the room had his lip shaking. But at least he wouldn’t have anyone in his hair and he’d be left alone, just the way he liked it.

Of course that didn’t last long when the cranky wooden door was barged open, spooking some of the horses in the opposite end of the room. A broad figure entered the room, blocking most of the door way but that didn’t stop to whoosh of cold air flood into the room, draining even more colour from his face.

It wasn’t until the door was closed and the man stepped closer when he realised it was Arthur.

“Micah? What the hell are you doing in here?”

Arthur sounded surprised, with only a hint of concern in his voice.

“Sleepin’— what the hell ya doing here Morgan?”

There wasn’t much of a response from Arthur, only a quiet noise which was barely heard over the whistle of the wind between the planks. He walked over to the horses, checking over them and ensuring none of them were freezing to death. Micah watched in silence, scared to disturb the man as he patted along Taima’s neck.

It wasn’t until after Arthur had checked over all the horses did he turn his attention to Micah.

Micah watched as Arthur’s gloved hand extended out and offered itself to him, he hesitated before taking before taking it and being pulled to his feet. Arthur’s hand draped over his shoulder which he didn’t realise had shaking in an effort to keep warm, having drunk the remaining whiskey from the bottle.

“Common now, yer gonna freeze in here alone.”

Micah dug his heels into the ground, not allowing Arthur to pull him any further to the door as he tried to hold his voice steady. He’d be damned if he ever let Arthur know just how much he affected him.

“I ain’t sharing a bunk with Williams—“

Arthur tutted, pulling Micah out the door as he pushed him towards his cabin in the snow storm.

“Quit yer yapping, you’re sharing with me and I ain’t having any more folk die tonight. Now let’s go.”

Arthur didn’t utter another word until they were well and truely in his room, wrapped in a blanket that was barely big enough for the two of them. The bed wasn’t much bigger, having been made for one person which was evident by Arthur pressing against Micah’s back in efforts for them to fit. The only thing that kept them apart was the fabric of their jackets, otherwise Arthur would probably hear Micah’s heartbeat which was beating much to fast for his liking.

The uncomfortable silence was broken when Micah cursed under his breath which caused his teeth to chatter and Arthur spoke up.

“Yer still cold, c'mere”

Micah’s breath fell short as Arthur’s hands slid under his coat, resting his hands on his tummy to use his body heat as a source of warmth. In doing so Arthur had moved even closer, ensuring Micah’s back was flush against his chest.

Despite that Micah wanted to protest, to go straight to his default of arguing he couldn’t help but feel as he began to warm up and he slowly relaxed under his hands.

A blush rose high on his cheeks as Arthur also relaxed into their embrace, accidentally letting his hands drift lower until he felt the hard press of Micah’s straining erection against his knuckle.

Micah instantly sucked in a breath, panicking and trying to push his way out of Arthur’s hold.

“Shit Arthur I—“

Micah froze as Arthur gently pulled him back to the bed and rubbed slow circles along his stomach.

“S’alright Micah, I’m not mad…”

Arthur held him close, letting him relax before talking again before he whispered right into the shell of his ear.

“…This what you want? Is this why you’re always staring at me from across camp, why yer always picking fights and asking me to robberies?”

A high pitched noise left Micah as he shivered, feeling Arthur’s hot breath against his ear. His blush deepened as he pushed back slightly into him, whimpering at the feel of Arthur’s own erection pressed against his ass.

Fuck it, he thought as heat pooled in his abdomen and he finally allowed himself to have the one thing he’d been craving for months. He nodded frantically, grinding back onto Arthur’s clothed dick and squirming in his grip.

“Relax boy, gonna give you everything you’ve been waiting for— just be good and you’ll get it”

Micah nodded in agreement, a needy, desperate sound leaving him at the promise of praise. He wanted, no needed to be praised by the man so badly that he’d do anything for an ounce of it from the man.

“Oh god Arthur! I need it, need you. Fuck I can be good I promise.”

He knew he was probably being too loud but apart of him didn’t have it in him to care. He moaned softly as Arthur moved him to roll onto his back, towering over him but ensuring they were still kept under the blanket.

Arthur spent the next ten minutes undressing him without exposing much of his skin to the cold. He unbuttoned the lower buttons of his leather jacket, enough for Arthur to work his fly down and pull one pant leg off. He whined pitifully, grabbing at the lapels of Arthur’s coat in a silent plea for him to undress him properly.

Micah mentally scolded himself at just how desperate he was for Arthur to rip his clothes off and fuck him like a bitch in heat but he knew that wasn’t happening any time soon. Arthur however caught on pretty quickly to what he wanted, it seemed the man knew just what made him tick.

“I know sweetheart, once we’re well and truly outta here I’ll get us a room and we can do this properly.”

Micah’s eyes beamed at the thought of Arthur taking him to a hotel in the future, panting as his mind raced with images of Morgan making him fall apart on his cock for hours on end.

While Micah was busy in his mind, Arthur took the opportunity to retrieve the gun oil from his satchel. It certainly wasn’t the best option but it was their only choice with their limited supplies.

Arthur draped himself back over Micah’s body, kissing at his jaw and nibbling as he coated his fingers. The air was cold, only making the oil feel colder as he slowly dipped his index finger past Micah’s rim.

A devilish grin came to Arthur’s face as he heard Micah sigh and take his finger easily, deciding to work his way up to two sooner than he was expecting.

“You’ve wanted this for a long time haven’t you? I saw you once, bout a week ago. Head down, ass up with three of yer fingers inside you while you cried out for me to fuck you. It all clicked in my head then when you started acting different around me at camp.”

Micah flushed a deep red, coughing on air as he realised Arthur knew about his little crush. He tried to think of an excuse, to weasel his way out of it but his thoughts died in his head when Arthur twisted his fingers, scissoring and stretching him open before adding a third.

Arthur dragged a lip along Micah’s cheek to his lip, ghosting his lips over his before kissing him properly. This time Micah didn’t even try to fight for dominance, opening his mouth instantly for Arthur’s tongue to enter. Instead he sighed into it, pulling his legs to wrap around his waist as his hands wrapped around his lover’s shoulder.

It went on like that until Arthur was satisfied that Micah was well prepped enough, simultaneously rubbing against Micah’s prostate while he kissed him deeply. He only pulled away to pull his own leaking member out, bunching his pants around his thighs so he had enough room to move but could stay warm. He coated the rest of the oil onto his member, jerking slowly as he stared down at the sight of Micah below him.

Micah looked like an absolute mess against the pillows already, his face was flush and the scarf around his head had unwrapped slightly, revealing his disheveled blond hair. His chest was heaving as he panted and his thighs shook from pleasure as the weakly wrapped around his waist.

“You look so pretty like this sweetheart”

To say that Micah hated the pet name was a lie, one that he didn’t try deny as he moaned softly. His back arched and he gripped Arthur’s coat tightly as he felt his cock slide between his cheeks and over his hole. He’s wanted this for so long now and yet somehow it still didn’t quite feel real as his mind was clouded with arousal.

Micah’s toes curled and he moaned when he felt Arthur push into him, slowly inching forward until he felt him bottom out.

“Ah— ah! Oh Arthur fuck! Please fuck me, I’ll be good I swear.”

Micah practically sobbed with pleasure as Arthur set up a fast pace, pulling almost all the way out till just the tip was left inside his tight hole before pushing back in quickly, brushing his prostate in the process. His cock twitched from where it rested against his tummy, pinned between Arthur’s jacket which caused a string of moans to fall from his mouth.

“Look at you, so good for me— fucking perfect Micah. Such a good boy”

Arthur’s hands came to hold onto Micah’s hips for leverage, pulling on his slight muffin top under the jacket to help pull him back to meet his thrusts. Beneath him he heard Micah whine and whimper at the praise so desperately needed to hear.

Micah bought a finger up to his mouth, biting on his knuckle to silence any more noises he deemed to be pathetic from slipping out of him. He hated how close he already was just from being praised by Arthur.

It seemed Arthur wasn’t having any of it when he pulled his finger away from his mouth before kissing him like he had done not that long ago. He swallowed every one of Micah’s noises, mindful of Dutch sleeping next door and slowing his thrusts to something deeper and slower.

His hands roamed all over Micah’s clothed body, breaking away for air and whispering praises down his ear.

“That’s it, make those pretty noises for me sweetheart.”

Micah eye’s rolled into his head as he cried out.

“You’re mine, all for me— my good boy.”

More moans slipped from his lips.

“Atta boy— taking me so well, so good.”

His back arched and he withered in his embrace

“So eager to please aren’t you? I’ll take care of you now boy.”

“—Arthur! I’m close— Ah, I’m gonna—“

“Go on sweetheart cum for me…that’s it good boy.”

Micah’s whole body when rigid as he finally came. His mouth hung open, tongue lolling out as his orgasm dragged out with each thrust Arthur delivered, eager to chase his own.

He collapsed into the pillow, thighs shaking as he whined at the oversensitivity. It didn’t last long before Arthur’s thrusts changed pace to something more erratic, picking up the pace as he spilled his load inside him.

Arthur groaned into his neck, pulling him close and collapsing into him as he regained his breath.

He pulled out slowly with a wet and obscene pop, sitting up and helping Micah put his clothes back on. Micah only weakly managed to fiddle with the button on his jacket while Arthur gently manhandled his jelly-like limbs to fit back into his pant leg. He used the blanket to wipe the cum off his tummy, a weak attempt at cleaning up and something they would both no doubt regret come tomorrow morning but for now they were keen to sleep after such a horrific and chaotic few days.

Arthur pulled Micah into their original position for the night, the only difference being that his face was now tucked into his chest. Arthur rested his chin of Micah’s head, littering his hair with kisses as he played with his hair between his rough fingers.

Micah was the first to fall asleep, curled up with his forehead against Arthur’s collarbone. Arthur wasn’t far behind him either, finally letting himself get some much needed rest but not before he pressed a soft kiss to his hairline.

[sailorhyunjinz]

𝕴𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖘 𝐈𝐈

© 2021 SailorHyunjinz ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Pairing; Bartender!Changbin x Fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warning ; ANGST!!! SMUT!! skz side characters, semi-slow burn, hurt/comfort, strangers to lovers, depiction of mental disorders, consumption of alcohol, tobacco use, dysfunctional families, mentions of undereating, vague hints to eating d-sorders mentions of crimes, mentions of blades, fainting, mentions of dr-g use, arguments, mentions of savior complex, mentions of childhood neglect, depiction of depression, mentions of needles, mentions of blades, yelling, mentions of hangover, parental issues (lmao cherry just say daddy issues), arguments

𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞 ; PIV, unprotected sex, hair pulling, drooling, getting caught, masturbation, fingering, clitoral stimulation, orgasm (f). 

(fic header made by @yjeongs! thank u cora <33) 

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ; 10.0 k 

From one survivor to another; cheers you guys. 

O N E ｜ T W O

                        ⊱ ────── {⋅. ♪ Playlist ♪ .⋅} ────── ⊰

Drugs N Hella Melodies - Don Toliver, Kali Uchis

Life is a Bi... - Bibi 

cigarette and condom - Bibi 

Empty Trash - LØREN 

Noir - Sunmi 

NEED - LØREN

Pretty Boy - The Neighbourhood

(hint hint look at the lyrics <33)

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 ; 𝐌𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐚

Three months.

Three months of booze, questionable substances, friends and most importantly. 

Him.

Seo Changbin. 

You never knew you could feel this deep about someone, there hadn’t been a reason earlier in your life since everyone in it either used you or abused you. But you knew he was different from the first time you saw him that night in the dark room, injured and surrounded by 7 other boys that were now your closest friends. Why would anyone ever want to leave this place? There was everything! Free drinks, ear-deafening music and your boyfriend. This was heaven for a hurt soul like you, so why would anyone search for an exit in this box of traitors? 

“O-oh fuck! Changbin!” you cried out as the momentum of his thrusts made you jolt forward, hands desperately trying to grab onto the black leather of the sofa you and him had made love on countless times, the door always being unlocked since there wasn’t a lock and this damn parallel universe wasn’t gonna install one anytime soon. 

Changbin grabbed your hair, twisting it around his hand as he pounded into you from the back, the supple valleys of your ass wobbling with each movement. Your voice became frail, stuttering and moaning his name in broken syllables along many other pleas and swearwords, the way your words became incoherent the longer he fucked you made his head lull backwards, pure music to his ears unlike that shitty music that blasted through the speakers on the dancefloor that was just next to the tiny dark room that was currently filled with the scent of sex and lust. Your head was tilted up, eyes tightly shut as you clenched around Changbin’s leaking cock that was jackhammering into your wet cunt, his dick glistening with your slick every time his hips moved away from you and reflected in the minimal light of the room. He grunted as all kinds of lewd sounds were heard from you, the skin slapping against each other and the squelching noise of your pussy being filled with his cock. His hands had a tight grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as the pleasure surged through every nerve of his body, sweat beading around on his temples. Your arms could barely hold you up, quivering and risking to collapse under you causing you to put your head towards the seat, warm cheek against the slightly cold leather. With your back fully arched your ass perked up, Changbin hitting exactly the right place in this position, a small stream of drool hanging from the corner of your swollen lips. You were so close to your release, hanging on by a thread to not tip over the edge and be sent spiraling down an earth shaking orgasm. 

“C-changbin, I’m gonna f-fucking cum” you stutter, reaching your hands backwards to which he let go of your hair and instead grabbed your wrists, holding you in place and pushing you down onto his cock. Your voice was no longer a whimper but instead a scream, goosebumps erupting on your soft skin as you panted, Changbin viciously thrusting inside you and being fueled by your pleasured sounds, he got off by the fact that you felt good. You were so close. So close.

“QUICK!! FELIX FUCKING FAINTED” Jisung said, bursting through the door but immedietly regretting his decision as he yelled out into the room that was now filled with your yelp and the loud club music from outside. 

“For fuck sake Jisung! Knock!” Changbin growled at the boy, you trying to grab your clothes off the floor and desperately covering yourself as Jisung stod in the doorway with panicked eyes, flailing his arms around in an anxious state. He was more appalled by seeing Felix passed out than he was seeing Changbin fucking you from behind. 

“NO TIME FOR KNOCKING, JUST FUCKING MOVE” he said, signaling his hands to follow him. In a haste you put on your clothes that weren’t much more than a skirt and a tight shirt, oh and of course your sexy panties, you had leveled up from your previous looks that made you look like a distressed mother of 4. Now you knew when you were gonna pass out and you even teleported in the phonebooth instead of injuring your head against the wall as you fainted. Changbin did the same, putting on only his pants as he ran after Jisung, you following shortly after, scared about what you were gonna witness.

The main dance floor looked like it usually did. People high, drunk or both, dancing and singing their hearts out, falling over and tumbling down on the floor. The whole place reeked of straight liquor and the music was loud enough for anyone to go deaf. You held Changbin’s hand as he dragged you through the crowd, not letting his eyes go from Jisung’s figure that was leading the both of you to the back end of the club, pushing through people and muttering small apologies that couldn’t be heard by even yourself. When you got to the end of the big place you saw Felix, his back and head against the table as he was completely knocked out, his legs dangling from the end of the rectangular table. You climbed on top of the soft seatings of the booth, putting your cheek near his nose and mouth. You didn’t hear if he was breathing but you were assured as you felt his cold breath against your hot flesh, sighing in relief. 

“How is he?!” Jisung yelled, “is he dying?”

You shook your head, grabbing his limp wrist and putting your pointer and middle finger on the underside of his limb, his veins not visible in the dark lighting of the club. His pulse was stable, beating faintly. 

“He’ll be alright!” you yelled back, the concerned gazes of the other boys standing around the boy exhaling as they heard your words, Changbin going closer to Felix and putting his hand on his shoulder, shaking the boy and repeating his name over and over again but to no avail. Seungmin rubbed the palm of his hand against his exposed forehead as his hair was pushed back.

“I’ll stay here with him, Changbin fetch me a water bottle and,,, wait,,, why did he even faint in the first place?” he asked, the boys looking at each other until they landed on Jisung that looked distressed, his pinkish lips quivering. 

“Probably a nice concoction of no food and only alcohol” he said, peering down at his black boots, his hair flopping onto his face, too shy to meet the gazes of his friends as if he had done something wrong himself. Seungmin could only sigh, you patting Jisung on the back as you walked through the jumping crowd again, the song changing as you heard Seungmin say “get him something Changbin”, their voices fading into the beat as you walked with Jisung behind you. 

Jisung slammed the door as you two were back in the room that had only moments earlier been filled with helpless whimpers and pleas. You threw yourself on the wrinkly couch, looking away in shyness when remembering that Jisung had caught the two of you even if everyone knew that you guys fucked in that very same room whenever there was time and Changbin wasn’t standing in the bar. The young boy sat down on the dark floor, leaning his elbow against the seat of the sofa as his twinkling eyes met yours. 

“I,,, just don’t understand” he said, you tilting your head in wonder as he uttered those words.

“Don’t understand what Sungie?” you said, the walls almost vibrating from the bass of the song from outside. He sighed as he momentarily looked away from you. 

“Felix,,, like it’s so clear that he needs help, just over the last few months his cheeks have sunken in and his eyes are completely matte and lifeless” he said, his voice trembling as a lump of tears was stuck in his throat. 

“But aren’t you the same Jisung? You need help too, help to stop thinking that everyone is your responsibility. I understand that you want to help him,,, but you carrying everyone's emotional baggage has landed you here. Felix will get help by those that are capable of getting him that help, you aren’t Jisung.”

His eyes shot up at you, dark as his eyebrows furrowed, his jaw clenching in anger. He felt attacked, commenting on his actions usually made him feel offended. 

“I am capable of helping him. What about you then huh? You can’t even help your own boyfriend” he snarked, running his hand over his hair in frustration. You rolled your eyes at him, watching him as he bit the inside of his cheek. He needed to do that, he couldn’t tell you the fact that one day your boyfriend is just gonna disappear since he’s actually taking matters into his own hands and getting help. 

“Don’t say that Jisung, we both try our best,,, let’s not fight over something we can’t control” you say, your voice getting frail by the end of the sentence.

“Can’t control? We can, we can help each other!” he said, banging the palm of his hand against the warm leather of the couch, making you jump in fear. You dropped down on your knees, your eyes being on the same level as his as you looked at him, the young boy diverting his gaze immediately.

“Jisung, look at me.” You grabbed his other hand that was resting in his lap against the rough material of his jeans. “We try, that’s the best we can do. Change comes from within. Nobody can save us if we don’t save ourselves.” Jisung sighed loudly, swallowing harshly, the both of you flinching when somebody burst through the black door. Changbin was carrying Felix on his back, the male still passed out on his broad shoulders. Your boyfriend looked puzzled at the scene before him. His girlfriend holding hands with one of his closest friends, sitting close enough to feel his breath against her cheek, both looking like two helpless deers caught in headlights. He furrowed his eyebrows as he walked into the room, throwing Felix off his shoulder and positioning him into a semi-prone position in order to open the airways. You and Jisung stood up, looking at the blonde boy and how his eyelashes layed gently against his lower eyelid. Changbin looked at Felix for a while before turning to you with a serious expression. 

“So,,, what happened here?” he said to which you shrugged.

“Me and Jisung just talked,,, about Felix” you answered, Changbin uttering a little “oh” as his previous rather unfaithful suspicions were proven to be false. “There’s no need to worry, he’s breathing so he won’t be in any medical danger as of right now but somebody needs to keep an eye on him,,, in case something changes.” You smiled at him talking.

“Alright doctor Changbin” you said while giggling, hugging him and him wrapping his sturdy arms around you, looking at Jisung’s mellow expression, eyes brimming with tears as he sat down on his knees on the floor once again, pushing a lock of hair from Felix’s delicate face, cupping his cheek that was once plump but now gaunt. Changbin pulled away from your comforting embrace and patted Jisung on the shoulder, bending his knees to get closer to him. 

“Do you wanna keep an eye on him, Ji?” he asked to which the boy nodded, not answering with words, not even a gaze at the male that was talking to him. He turned around to look at you, pointing his chin towards the door, signaling for the two of you to get out and leave the two boys alone to which you nodded, following Changbin out and gently closing the door behind you by turning the knob and releasing it slowly. The music got louder and louder as you two walked in the long corridor before ending up on the main floor, the corridor going to the bar and you could only get onto the dance floor by exciting through the wooden gate of the bar. 

“I’ll go find the others, you should work!!” you yelled through the music and Changbin nodded, giving you a kiss on the lips before you exited through the gate, being careful to knock any of the liquor bottles on the walls over and causing a ruckus like you’d done once before, being black-out drunk and trying to hobble your way through to god knows where, accidentally swinging your arms towards the shelfs. Luckily everything restores itself in this universe.

People were doing their usual activities in all corners of the club, making out against a wall or jumping, spilling their drinks on the floor that Changbin would have to mop up afterwards when he steps in the sticky liquid that pressed up against ones shoe. It was impossible to see who was who in the dark room, the neon lights on the roof changing colors but not making it easier for you, especially not with the commotion around you, individuals bumping into each other. In the distance you saw a hand waving, a familiar hand that was decked out in maybe a thousand silver rings, all with intricate designs that could only be seen from up close. Next thing you see is Hyunjin jumping, the bedazzled hand belonging to the long haired blonde male that always made sure to use the most expensive perfume. You made your way over to him, the male smiling brightly as he sat down on the edge of the cubical sofa, the other males being around the table that Felix was lying unconscious on just a brief moment earlier. The table was filled with half empty beer bottles along with red glimmering packs of cigarettes that belonged to some of them. Hyunjin patted the seat next to him, scooting closer to Jeongin that was ruffling his slightly sweaty hair, putting the bottle green top against his lip and taking a sip, his adam's apple moving as he swallowed. 

Hyunjin was different, different from anyone else in this place. You’d expect him to have the best life imaginable due to his family background. His father was the CEO of an influential business and his mother being his fathers assistant, both living a lavish life and providing for their only son, Hyunjin. But no amount of wealth can buy happiness. You don’t know the entire story but what you have heard when he was drunk and barely able to speak is that he was bullied all throughout school, struggling with the pressure being put on him by his parents to become a businessman just like his father. It ate Hyunjin alive to everyday go to sleep and feel like a failure that wasn’t able to live up to his parents expectations. He wasn’t worth this lifestyle he thought as he mindlessly doodled on the edge of his college application papers, it was easier to end it. He felt like a coward, always taking the easy way out but that’s how he’d lived his entire life. Getting help wasn’t an option, it would bring shame upon the family if anyone found out that he went to therapy and besides, his family didn’t believe in mental illnesses, it was simply to “go on a run” to feel better. “Then why the fuck am I not feeling better? I’ve ran miles but my mind runs faster” he wrote in the small black notebook he kept in his bedside table, hiding it together with his cigarettes under piles of papers and books. That’s how he ended up here, being together in a little group consisting of Chan and Minho along with some other people that had already departed from the place he felt the safest. 

You gave a smile to Hyunjin, grabbing the beer bottle in front of him, earning a little “hey!” from him but you drank it anyway as you laughed at his reaction, the bitterness spreading throughout your mouth. You exhaled, putting the bottle down harshly, the loud sound being drowned out by the music. Hyunjin laughed along with you, he seemed kinda distant, his pupils dilated. With furrowed eyebrows you looked at the other boys that looked back at you in a confused manner. 

“Something wrong y/n?” Seungmin asked, his cheeks slightly red from the heat that was radiating off everybody in the room, the tension heightening the temperature. Your eyes landed on Minho who looked equally as dazed as Hyunjin, looking up at the ceiling as the crown of his head rested against the dark walls in an uncomfortable manner. 

“You guys definitely did something” you said to which Hyunjin laughed, now stealing Minho’s drink since he was completely immersed at how the colors changed. 

“Of course we did,,, if we were gonna do it, why not here?” he said, looking at you through hooded eyes, his gaze sharp as pin needles, the black smudged eyeliner around his eyes not making it easier to escape the way you drowned in them. It was true, here was the place where you could be yourself, do whatever you pleased and act reckless as long as you didn’t hurt anybody, a rule Minho found difficult. It’s not that he wanted to hurt people, it’s just that he couldn’t help himself. Something bad was gonna happen if he didn’t. So that’s what the switchblade was for, not to hurt anyone but just in case he needed to add another felony to his list. You didn’t even wanna know what substances that ran through his veins but you felt bad for him. He was a slave to his own thoughts, sometimes even his own actions. He had no other choice but to obey them, do everything that the voices whispered faintly into his ear, a serenade of revenge to everyone that has never believed in him, considered him a shame and neglected him. No, not him. His inner child. 

Seungmin grabbed the red carton of cigarettes, the crimson wrapper unfolding itself when he opened the lid and grabbed one of the deathsticks whose orange ends were looking up at him. He picked one up, putting it to his lips and patting down his sides in search for a lighter but to no avail. He sighed out of the corner of his mouth, gesturing towards Hyunjin by flicking his pointer finger upwards, the blonde boy reaching over to his pocket and retrieving a white lighter that he put on the glossy mahogany table and scooted across it, Seungmin grabbing it as it nearly fell to his feet. He thanked Hyunjin by lazily saluting with two fingers before igniting the cigarette, the deep purple fading out into a light orange at the tip of the flame, the smoke evaporating around Seungmin as he puffed, exhaling straight ahead of him, poor Jeongin beside him coughing. 

“What’s even the purpose of these?” Jeongin said, grabbing the packet and examining it closely, twisting and turning the small box.

“What’s the purpose of your life?” Seungmin answered with an evil laugh, you wanting to bend over the table and smack him across the face for talking like that to the youngest. Jeongin shrugged his shoulders, smirking at Seungmin.

“Touchè I guess” he said, a smile hiding his pain. “Can I get one?” he said as he nudged Seungmin on the shoulder, the boy already taking his second puff. Seungmin didn’t answer, simply placing the cigarettes and Hyunjin’s white lighter in front of him. You stared at Seungmin in disbelief for a moment before throwing yourself over Hyunjin’s lap, grabbing the two objects and clutching them tightly in your hand. Hyunjin flinched at the sudden commotion, all the boy’s eyes were on you, tilting their heads like confused puppies. 

“Don’t you even dare Yang Jeongin” you said, him looking at you with twinkling innocent eyes. He nodded and you turned your head back to Seungmin. “And you, no actually all of you, quit it” you said, a moment of silence flew by before all of them bursted out in laughter.

“fucking,,, tell that to your boyfriend first” Minho said, him finally awake from his trance “if you manage to get him to stop then we’re all with you y/n” he said, laughing, his two front teeth poking out like a rabbit. You sighed, looking at the four boys but noticing Chan was missing. 

“Where’s Chan?” you asked, Seungmin shrugging as he exhaled grey smoke again.

“He hasn’t arrived yet,, don’t know what he’s up to” he answered, putting the orange end to his plump lips, pink in color but this being impossible to see in the changing neon lighting. “I wonder how Lixie is doing,,,” he added with a sigh. Good you hoped, the last three months have been nothing but a downward spiral to hell for the boy, everyday the gleam from his eyes got duller and duller until they were matte with fatigue. You remember a distinct moment that happened in the first couple of weeks in the club, you still getting to know the peculiar characters that moved around in this place. Felix was sitting in the bar, you sitting right next to him, the whole conversation was difficult to hear due to the music and chatter from people but you guys made do. 

“You know that song? By Radiohead?” he said. You shrugged and shook your head.

“Which one?” you asked, taking a sip from your drink that was unfortunately made by another bartender, Changbin not being there yet. 

“That one where they sing ‘I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul’” he said with a giggle, grabbing his glass and taking a swig of the poison in his glass, decorated with lemons and limes. You laughed with him, not knowing what he meant, thinking he was just spewing random words at you from being intoxicated. 

“Yeah, what about it?” you said, the young boy’s smile fading away as he gulped, placing down the drink. 

“I don’t know,,, I often listen to it on the bus or home alone,,, it tells me something but I can’t place my finger on what exactly” he said with a loud sigh, resting his cheek on his hand that was bent against the dark wooden bar. 

“Isn’t it the lyrics?” you said, “the fact that you want to be perfect in every way?” Felix hummed for a minute before nodding his head slowly. 

“It’s not even that I want to be perfect because that’s what society taught me,,, it’s because I live in a false reality where I believe that people will love me and appreciate me more if i tweak everything” he blurted out, going silent and sipping his drink slowly. 

“I’m happy that you know that it’s false but,,, what’s stopping you?” you asked, looking at the boy whose eyes were gazing at the wooden stick inside his drink, stirring it over and over again. 

“Because,,, if I stop,,, I won’t be sick enough” 

The both of you got silent after he remarked those words. Felix got silent because he thought he’d said something wrong. You got silent because you knew how that felt, that someone was going through your struggles. 

“You don’t prove anything by that Felix. I k-know this is gonna sound stupid and you’ve heard it so many times but,,, just know that I love you no matter how you look. I’m happy that you’re here Lixie” 

You looked at him and his dark brown eyes met yours, glittering once again, rounded as if he’d heard the best news of his life. He opened his arms and you stood up on the floor, hugging him and squeezing him by the sides.

“I’m happy that you are here too y/n” he whispered in your ear, barely audible from the loud bumping of the music. You pulled off the hug and shimmied up the bar stool again, putting the transparent glass edge to your lips and feeling the liquor trickle down your throat. 

“I was thinking of getting those words tattooed on me but now that I think about it, I want those words tattooed on me but with a big red x over it.” You smiled together with him, his dimples being carved into those freckled cheeks along with his bleak eyeshadow, his lips a cherry tint. 

“You should.”

“Oh fuck-” you cursed as you woke up on your living room floor that was covered in dust and crumbs that was a trail all the way to the kitchen. You sighed every time you were back in reality, in the cursed world that wanted nothing else but to crush you under its fingertips. A patter was heard from outside, gentle raindrops decorating your windows as they were falling from the dusky skies. The rain was at least better you thought, in the sun you felt immense guilt for not being as happy as everyone around you, scrolling through your phone and seeing pictures of old classmates on trips and drinking out in the basking sun, wearing sundresses and hats. Being picturesque.

You made your own fun. Late wine nights and therapy appointments early in the morning where you get drilled with information that you could actually use to get better but you decide to cancel it all out. It was impossible to take in. Or maybe you wanted this now? Like Felix said, you wanted to remain sick enough even if there is no such thing. It used to be about not wanting to leave your comfort zone as odd as it sounds. You had struggled with your mental health for as long as you could remember and getting better would mean that you would have to make active changes in your life that at the moment didn’t seem appealing. But now it wasn’t about that. It was about Changbin. Getting better would mean that you would have to leave him, not only him but all the other friends you made at the club for the last months. They felt closer than family especially since you’d barely had one in the past. You wanted to stay by Changbin for forever but did you want to suffer for just as long?

Little did you know, Changbin didn’t. 

You stood up from the wooden floorboards, stepping closer to the balcony door and seeing the rain cover the streets, lonesome people walking with umbrellas and rain jackets through the storm, probably on their way home to a delicious home cooked meal, a comfortable bed and a stable mind. You only had one of those things but you, in contrast from before the club, didn’t get jealous when you saw those people down at the rainy street. You had your own happiness that was Changbin.

Every time you said his name your heart started racing, your knees almost bent underneath you as you walked back to the couch, no lights turned on in the entire odorous apartment. With a thump you fell with your back against the comforting material, once again being swallowed by a fort of pillows and clothes that you haven’t been bothered to put away. The tv display stood blank, your silhouette reflecting in the matte sheen of the screen, your face almost hanging low with boredom. What was there to do when you weren’t in Changbin’s secure arms? 

It was as if his name rolled off your tongue. Smooth as butter, sweet as syrup. You closed your eyes, eyelashes fluttering against your cheek, tickling the sensitive skin on your face. Underneath your lids pictures flashed by in bright colors, not from imagination but from memory. The pictures radiated their energy through your entire body, sending shivers down to the tips of your toes as you saw the faces of your best friends and boyfriend, their smiles creating red apples on their cheeks. 

You wondered how many of those smiles were fake. 

A wave of arousal shot through your body as remembered the events that took place before Jisung had a chance to ruin them, how Changbin grunted next to your ear, his hot breath teasing the shell of your ear as he whispered, the movements of his hips going from rolling to pounding, the room filling with the lewd noises of skin slapping against each other accompanied with your tiny whimpers, pleading him to make you cum. You couldn’t help but to rub your legs together, shifting in the grey sofa that was decorating your trash pile of a living room, the other decor pieces being empty bottles and white used tissues that were tiny houses to your tears. You peeked down quickly, seeing that you were still in your party clothes that consisted of a shirt and a short skirt that was sitting kinda lopsided on the base of your hips, hugging your skin tightly. With a rapid hand you removed the garment by unzipping it by the side, kicking the fabric towards the end of the couch with your feet that were bare, you managed to toss your sneakers away whilst you were deep in your imaginations. Except for the bright colors in your mind, the rest of the apartment was dark, not a single light being switched on. Your light source for many of your lonesome nights were the grey poles on which a bulbous light hung, a so-called street light. The blue cold light shone inside, deep dark shadows being casted on the walls by the trees that decorated the sidewalk. 

Lines started to blur between the real and the fake, not sure if you actually felt Changbin’s hands wrapped around your neck or if it was just yet another illusion your mind has decided to put forward. You could feel the warmth from his hands surging down your neck, soothing your heart in a comforting way. It was as if you were being held in a way that made your blood run south, loved and aroused at the same time. It was as if a ball of warmth bubbled inside you, encapsulating you in its aura of happiness and distraction, your hand teasing the the skin on your lower abdomen before it plunged beneath the small pair of cotton panties that had been violently pulled off by your boyfriend some time ago, exactly how much was something you couldn’t tell, the universe simply didn’t allow time. 

Time is an arrow. 

It always goes forward. 

Under the thin elastic your fingers started moving on their own, like they knew what to do, almost imitating what Changbin had done so many nights prior to this one on that murky couch. You couldn’t help but to wonder if he missed you right this moment. Was was he doing? What was he thinking? You wondered if he thought about you whenever he pleasured himself, if it was your name that echoed in the four empty walls of his broken down apartment whenever he came. The thought of his hand wrapped around his cock as he groaned made you sweat, the skin on the underside your knees sticking to each other as your knees were bent, soles flat against the frowning sofa. Automatically you spread your legs, one resting against the wallpapered surface as the other one hung out from the edge of the sofa. With your middle finger you felt the slippery surface, gathering your slick as you swiped up your finger, coating the sensitive bud in stickiness. You clenched around nothing, thinking about how Changbin whispered his praises in a sweet tone like a serenade.

“You’re doing so well y/n, fuck,,, you’re so pretty princess”

You nodded despite there being no one to see, small whimpers forcing their way out of your throat as two fingers circled your clit, spreading one pussy lip with a third finger, widening the area of contact. Your spine arched at anticipation, a faraway feeling approaching with quick strides as you squirmed your hips, butt digging into couch cushions as your gently pinched your slick-covered clit. Your hole was practically begging for more, velvety walls throbbing for pleasure that you didn’t mind giving, slowly inserting your middle finger, followed by a second finger, hissing at the initial stretch and getting used to the feeling, wiggling your fingers inside just like Changbin always does but his fingers filled you up better accompanied by the small marks he left all over your torso and tits, sucking on your delicate nipples with his wet tongue, leaving a trail of saliva as he licked around the valley of your tits, the ticklish feeling causing you to throw your head back. 

“f-faster binnie” you said into thin air, there being no one to answer your request except your fingers that started going faster in and out of your squelching hole, using your thumb to nudge on your clit, desperately trying to move it in circles and moaning as pleasure built up in the pit of your core. You licked your lips, coating them in a thin sheen of spit, imagining his soft lips pressing up against yours, his tongue coaxing yours as he licked your bottom lip, nibbling on it before slipping it into your mouth, the soft surface meeting yours, a languid kiss being exchanged as he panted into the kiss, you whining gently in between breaths. Your hair stood in a mess as you rubbed your head against the fluffy pillow under you, a couple of stray pieces sticking to your forehead that was covered in a lustre of sweat, reflecting in the small amount of light that was looming in the room together with you. Your mind blurred with lewd scenes with him, curving your fingers inside you in order to reach your g-spot and being startled by your own moan when you did, it simply felt too good, especially when thinking that it was his fingers that plunged into your wetness. 

“Just a little bit more y/n,, o-oh shit,,, f-fuck i’m gonna cum”

His voice ringed in your ears, it didn’t have to be loud to be memorable and make your head spin with pure amativeness. Your fingers started to hurt from how vigorously you were pumping them inside yourself, bringing yourself to the edge as you imagined that it was Changbin’s cock, twitching and begging from release, wishing he would cum inside you and paint your walls in his milky white cum, the hot liquid oozing out of your swollen pussy. Your clit throbbed, your breathing getting uneven between your parted lips, your hand being slightly restricted by the fabric of your underwear. 

“Cum for me baby”

It was an automatic response. Your hips convulsing upwards, high-pitched moans bouncing off the walls as you continued to tease your clit, pulling out your fingers and rubbed the swollen bud up and down into overstimulation until you it hurt, your eyes tightly squeezed, small droplets of tears teasing the corners of your shut orbs. The high washed over you, from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes, every body part rushing with adrenaline before coming down in a state of repose. Slowly you withdrew your hand from beneath the fabric, the elastic snapping gently against your skin, fingertips glistening with your juicy release that now also coated your panties as it rubbed against the inside fabric. You slowly opened your eyes, vision blurry before focusing correctly, seeing nothing but darkness and vague outlines of objects. Night had fallen. You sighed, you were alone.A part of you wished at Changbin had been there whenever your glittering doe-eyes sprung open, your plushy lips being met with his but alas you couldn’t get everything in life.

Except that you couldn’t even get anything. At all.

“Binnie!!!” you shouted as soon as you opened your eyes as you woke up on the floor, looking around confused as your voice echoed in the room. You rubbed your eyes, the familiar automated voice and its words still stuck in your head.

“Uh? Over here y/n”

You heard his voice, the sweet tune hitting your eardrums, you looked at the direction of the sound and noticed that you were lying on the main dance floor. No music. No people. You stood up with wobbly knees, looking around and being shone on by a spotlight on the ceiling, watching Changbin drying off a couple of glasses with a kitchen towel, a brown apron sitting snugly around his waist, another piece of useless fabric that hid his well-sculpted body. 

“W-why is there no one here? Are we glitching again?!” your voice panicked as your gaze was busy, landing everywhere from the meaningless neon green exit sign pointing to nowhere to the colorful transparent liquor bottles on the shelves behind your lover. Changbin let out a little snark as he put the glass down, throwing the cloth over his shoulder and leaning on the wooden bar counter.

“No y/n, sometimes many people are busy and that’s when you don’t teleport here,,, you know that already”

You let out a small “oh” in realization before walking over to the bar and throwing yourself into a chair lazily, tapping the table with your pointer finger twice, a quiet signal for help. The kind that alcohol provided. Changbin didn’t say anything, simply scooping some ice into a low glass with pretty carved out details at the bottom, the black haired boy filling up the glass with whiskey, the brown liquid seeping between the cubes of frozen water. It was oddly silent in the club, not from the fact that there wasn’t anyone else there but there was this awkward feeling between the two of you, as cold as the ice cubes that the champagne bottles were resting inside a iron bucket full of ice underneath the bar on one of the shelves. 

“So uhm,,, was everything alright yesterday?” he asked in a low voice, peering at you through hooded eyelids as he tilted the glass, pouring another liquor bottle and pouring the substance in. 

Memories of the night prior flashed past your eyelids causing you to almost choke on your saliva. Changbin looked at you suspiciously, furrowing his eyebrows as he put the glass on the coaster in front of you, watching you gulp down the poison. He had something on his mind, the words were basically danging off his pink lips but he hesitated, something stopped him every time he tried to open his jaw and let the words pour out in a puddle of word-vomit on the floor. The words were lodged in his throat like a boulder, he didn’t know how to say it.

“Something wrong binnie?” you asked with a confused expression, your eyes filled with concerned. What if something had happened in a universe you couldn’t even reach, the boy wandering alone with his concerns? 

You took another sip from the glass, frowning as the alcohol stung your tongue and descended down your esophagus like a ball of fire, observing the contents that you were drinking partly because you were interested in what concoction your boyfriend had made but mostly cause you didn’t want to look him in the eyes in this frigid atmosphere. He shook his head, giving you a non-verbal answer. 

You didn’t believe him. 

By the way his jaw clenched to the awkward posture as he stared at you, he had something to confess and you weren’t sure if you were ready for it, thinking that maybe it would be easier to not ask about it anymore and live in oblivion. 

“Come on~ I know you well enough to know that something isn’t quite right” you said, resting your chin in the palm of your hand, eyeing your boyfriends godly figure, practically drooling over him on the spot. 

“Hmm,,, y-yeah ok,, I do have something to say but,,, I’m not sure how to” he started, your heart starting to beat faster with each syllable he pronounced, thinking that this was the end of your world because he was indeed your entire world. The reason you still smiled.

“Just say it baby, I won’t be angry” you said but not sure if you could keep your promise. 

“I got a place at rehab” 

You started laughing sarcastically, the boy standing perplexed behind the counter. 

“Wh-what’s so funny?” he asked shortly after. 

“You obviously said no, right?”

Silence erupted throughout the establishment, your smile was wiped off your face as you waited for an answer but you felt the tears start bubbling up in your glossy eyes as the silence went on, brimming and coaxing to fall down onto your warm cheek, his expression was blank, a canvas without a paint. In a rage of fit you threw your glass at the nearest wall, the glass shattering in a million pieces just like your heart, impossible to glue together. 

The ice cubes melted on the floor, liquid splattered on the dark glossy floor. There was no saving the broken pieces, it was simply to throw it in the trash. You couldn’t blame Changbin for being startled, backing to the wall that displayed the bottles of alcohol, small lights above them causing the flasks to reflect tiny fractals.

“What the fuck do you mean Changbin, huh?!” you yelled at him, salty tears streaming down your cheeks, hanging off your quivering lips. He could only exhale loudly from his nose, his dusky complexion losing its color the more stressed he got. 

“No, what do you mean? Are you actually serious about letting me rot in my life and not take help when I’ve finally gotten it?” he said, his tone growing louder with each word, him practically growling like a feral wolf. You couldn’t believe the word coming out of his lying mouth. Rot in his life? Why? He had you now. You were all he needed, right?

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier then?” Your voice was expressionless, a string tinted red with betrayal laced in your tone. 

“I was scared.”You scoffed, feeling the frustration in the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight, tears glittering in the bright lights that were on currently, shining down on you as if another dimension had opened. 

One without Changbin. 

With dark eyes you looked at him, a dumbfounded smile causing the corners of your lips to turn upwards, tasting the salt of your sadness as a droplet rolled down and into your mouth. “

I never want to see you again Changbin”

“Don’t say that y/n, p-please don’t say that.” 

His voice was drowsy like he hadn’t slept in days, your theory being more believable as you saw the dark bags under his blank eyes. He had been worrying, worried for your reaction. He took off the apron and put the kitchen towel on the nearest surface before hurrying to exit out through the gate and took strides towards your standing figure but you distanced yourself every time he got closer. You felt yourself getting smaller and smaller as his shadow towered over you, his face not showing compassion but rather irritation. 

“GET AWAY!!” you screamed in a ear-deafening screech, him barely flinching as he had seen worse things in his life than his heartbroken girlfriend getting pressed up against a wall with dark streaks of makeup and tears staining her face, plagued by treachery that was brought upon by the only one she trusted in her life.

Maybe this was deeper than just your boyfriend leaving you. Maybe this was a silent cry to stay and not leave like your father once did. Sure, he was around in your childhood but that’s the thing; he was around, never actively invested in what happened in the life of his child. You didn’t like to look into it. Hell, you barely wanted to talk about it but you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was the reason as to why you had a difficult time with goodbyes. It replayed memories, memories you’d rather forget. Or wish you never had in the first place. 

“The fuck-” said a recognazible voice that belonged to Minho, the male staggering out of the toilets in a hungover haze, scratching his hair as he yawned.

“Huh,,, how long have you been there?” Changbin said, him turning his head to look at Minho whilst standing mere inches from you, sandwiching you between his body and the dark walls. 

“I have no idea,,, just woke up and heard a scream” he replied lazily, still not really registering the situation that was unfolding in front of his very own eyes. You glared at Changbin before pushing him by the shoulders, thinking you would make a big impact but him only losing his balance for a few seconds, with fierce steps you bolted to Minho, the boy sliding his hand down into his pocket the closer you got causing you to stop dead in the tracks. 

You’d rather be heartbroken than deceased. 

“Did you know about this? Did you know that this motherfucker was going to fucking rehab?!” you yelled hysterically towards the boy that picked up a packet of cigarettes instead of a switchblade. He smirked as he put a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, not breaking eye contact with you for a second throughout the entire process, almost hypnotizing you with his looks. 

“Yeah,,, we all knew” that devilish smirk only signaling that he liked the pain he saw in other people, the white lighter in his hands flicking and emitting an orange and purple flame that slowly burned the tip of the deadly stick. 

You wanted to scream on the top of your lungs, break every single one of the bottles on the shelves in a fit of rage before breaking Changbin’s heart, shatter it in pieces and step on it like glass even if it would make shards stick to your wounded and bloody feet. But that’s life. You can never hurt someone without getting hurt back. 

“And so you all decided to be on his side? To defend a liar was the best your stupid fucking head could come up with?” you couldn’t even filter your words, whatever came to your mind rolled off your tongue as smoothly as the words “i love you” once had. 

“Hey y/n! Don’t say that! He had nothing to do with it” Changbin roared, stepping closer with his heavy black boots that could probably smash someone against the concrete by the telephone booth where thousands of stray souls wandered every hour of the short 24 hours we humans have in a day. He put his hand on your arm but you shoved him away, freeing your hand from his grasp and yelling inaudible words at the boy. 

“And that’s why you don’t date a psycho, am I right Changbin?” Minho laughed, lodging the cigarette between his pointer- and middle finger, blowing the smoke towards you as a careless gesture. Changbin looked done, rolling his eyes at the other boy before shaking his head, his hair bouncing in a fluffy manner as he moved. 

“Not now Min” he answered simply, keeping his composure but you on the other hand were boiling with anger, feeling your heartbeat in your ears. You let out a half laughter filled with sarcasm.

“Somehow the real psycho has the audacity to say that to me, huh? Who the fuck do you guys think you are? You guys think it’s cool to live like this?” you said, your voice becoming frail at the end of your sentence, breaking as new tears weighed on your eyelashes and dropped down on the floor beneath you. 

“No we don’t y/n and that’s why Changbin is getting help. Don’t you see it? You are hurting him by keeping him here.”

Minho’s words stung more than a thousand needles piercing through your raw flesh. 

He was right.

The entire relationship rested on a foundation of suffering that you fed with repeatedly withdrawing from help that could make you blossom into the person you once were. Deep down you knew that this relationship was impossible, you knew it before you even fell for him but the thing is that you didn’t choose to fall in love, it happens. There’s a reason as to why it’s called ‘falling in love’, because once you’ve jumped you can’t expect to stand on the top of the cliff again. Only at the view from halfway down do you realize that maybe this wasn’t the right time and space. 

You looked at Changbin that held his hands out, wanting to hug you and make everything feel alright, like it was before and you couldn’t help but to melt at how his eyes rounded, twinkling by the thousands of lights around the room and reflecting in his teary eyes. With the arm of your sleeve you wiped off the tears, makeup rubbing off on the fabric but you couldn’t give less of a thought before Changbin wrapped his hands around you, tears falling at a rapid pace as you sobbed into the neck of your boyfriend, breathing in his musky scent that infiltrated your bloodstream and made your heart stop for just a brief moment before pounding harder than before, powered by longing. 

“I’m s-sorry Changbin” you said in between sobs, words coming out in broken syllables, it was difficult forming a sentence let alone an apology. Changbin shook his head as he put his hand on the back of your neck, descending down and rubbing your back soothingly.

“Don’t apologize y/n, you didn’t do anything wrong” His voice ran down your spine, the boy pulling away from the hug and holding you by the shoulders, looking deeply into your eyes as he spoke. 

“I love you and I will never forget you”

You nodded, your face in distress with tears and snot, puffy eyes looking back at him. 

“W-when are you leaving t-then?” you asked timidly to which Changbin responded by breaking eye contact.

“In two days.” You sighed, not sure if you should be sad. What kind of partner tells you that important of an announcement just two days prior? But you understood, he was just as scared as you. 

Scared of the unknown. Alcohol had been a part of his life for a long time, it was his comfort and now suddenly he needed to adapt to a life without it, a life in sobriety. You weren’t the only scared one. The both of you heard Minho picking up the shards of glass with his bare hands, throwing it in the trash as he smoked, not even needing to remove the cigarette from between his lips in order to exhale the smoke, grey clouds billowing out of the corner of his mouth and filling the area with the scent of over 70 harmful substances. 

In the distance you heard footsteps coming from the dark room that was pretty much the only private space in the building, Felix and Jisung walking out, their expressions changing from happy to confused upon seeing your face and Minho cleaning up. 

“W-what,,,” Jisung started but Minho put his pointer finger to his lips before removing the cigarette from his lips and mouthing to the younger boys.

“He told her”

Both Jisung and Felix nodded slowly, their eyes big as saucers as they mouthed a small “oh” back before casting a glance at the two of you, two bodies melting in a touch that could be the last one.

“What will I do without you Changbin?” you said, looking down at the ground. He sighed before smiling at you. 

“What you’ve always done y/n,,, fight for yourself because one day you will make it” he said, cupping your cheek in his hand and swiping his thumb across the tears on your cheek, the dampness remaining on the rough pads of his thumb. 

“B-but don’t worry y/n! It’s in two days,,, maybe I’ll be back tomorrow” he said, you seeing that the boys nodded their heads in the corners of your eyes. 

“Alright,,, I’ll trust you,,, I always do”

“You guys can go and I don’t know,,, talk in that other room,,, we’ll take care of stuff out here” Minho said, flicking the ashes off the end of the cigarette one last time before throwing it in the sink, the boy standing in the bar together with the the other two boys. You and Changbin nodded, making your way past them and entering the dark room that had now become a place where only memories live. With hesitance you sat down on the couch, Changbin doing the same. You glanced over at him, slowly tilting your head against his shoulder and exhaling loudly through your nose. 

The momentary silence wasn’t awkward. It was comforting. 

Silence was what this place needed, moments away from everything related to partying and drinking until your liver failed. 

“Do you remember the first time we met?” he said with a laugh, you giggling with him.

“Of course I do, it wasn’t even that long ago but,,, it feels like forever.” 

He nodded, glancing at your hand for a moment before grabbing it, his warm hand wrapping around your cold one, lacing his fingers with yours. 

“I don’t want you to leave binnie,,, t-this is unfair.” Tears started bubbling up in your throat again, your breathing getting unstable as your gaze was fixed on the ground. 

“I don’t want to leave either y/n but,,, what if we meet in the right dimension? What if that’s what happens? That when you,,, start loving yourself for who you are,,, maybe that’s when you meet the one that will continue to heal you?”

Changbin’s words made a lot of sense. Nobody knew what happened to the people that descended to the real world again. What adventures they were on or who they were loving at this point in time so maybe that did happen. It made you smile, your heart filled with hope, something you hadn’t felt since he said those doomed words earlier. You turned to him, his lips lingering dangerously close to yours to the point where you could feel his hot breath brushing up against the apples of your cheeks. He leaned in, attaching his lips on yours one last time, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear and holding you by the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the knuckles of your hand. You kissed him back, slipping your tongue into his mouth in a deep exchange of saliva intertwined with yearning. The kiss formed an even pace, you tilted your head to the side causing the kiss to get intense, his wet tongue gliding against yours, your pout swelling as he bit your bottom lip, blood rushing into it. He could almost feel yours eyelashes fluttering against the bridge of his nose. He pulled away, landing a final peck on your soft lips before nibbling the inside of his cheek in nervosity, unsure as to why he was nervous in the first place. Maybe the thought that he would never kiss you again. You put your hands around him, rubbing your dark tinted cheeks against his shirt that was luckily in a darker color as well. He smelled like home, like comfort.

A murky scent mixed with tobacco and ephemerality.

 You haven't seen Changbin since that day. 

“How have you been y/n?” said the woman sitting opposite you, tapping her pen against the A5 block of secrets that rested against a folder that has your name on the side, filled with results of various psychological tests. You shrugged your shoulders, looking out the window where the ivys growed over the glass.

“I’ve been alright,,, although I miss someone” you answered, your eyes meeting the curious ones of your psychologist that observed your body language, your foot shaking in the air as your legs were folded on top of each other. 

“Who do you miss y/n?” she asked. You thought about telling her the truth but then had you ever done that in this office?

“Doesn’t matter,,, Just someone” you answered shortly to which the lady nodded. 

“Longing is a very difficult feeling, sometimes there’s nothing you can do about it since the only thing that will cure it is seeing that person again but of course, that’s not always possible” she said, you observing the marbled pattern on the vinyl floor. You agreed, not knowing what else to do before she started talking about something else that was connected to your well-being, wondering how you are coping with still being on the hunt for a job and having your mental health to care about in the meanwhile. 

The session ended as it always does. By you walking out of the office with an orange post-it note where the next appointment was scheduled in messy writing and with a warm goodbye to your psychologist that was a nice person. It was just that you didn’t really care for her advice and you yet again felt horrible for not taking the help you got when other people in the world couldn’t afford the same experience. The wind hit you in the face as you exited out to reality, out from the solace of the office and the building that held countless of skin-crawling memories. You pulled your jacket closer to your body, walking with quick strides towards the convenience store in order to buy gum and something sweet that could stop the world from leaving a bitter taste in your mouth at all times. A bell above the door tinkled as you stepped into the store, the grey welcome mat being a soft surface to step on with your sneakers. You casted a glance at the staff, seeing the gum you always bought by the cash register and the back of a young man in a black jacket with a baseball cap, looking upwards at the cigarettes and talking to the cashier in a husky voice. You walked past aisles of various snacks and other necessities, hearing the man talking in a voice that made your head spin, sending you into a deja vu feeling.This voice, this very voice was familiar. 

“That one,, yeah,,, thanks! Oh,, just gonna grab something real quick” he said, his footsteps getting closer to you that were hunched over, looking for the banana milk on the lower shelves and squinting your eyes as tried to look further back to see if you missed a bottle by mistake. Your eyes lit up as you saw it, stretching out your hand but in that moment you didn’t feel the cool plastic layer of the yellow manufactured drink but instead a slightly warm hand that was bigger than yours, clad in a couple of silver rings. You quickly apologized and peered upwards, your eyes landing on a couple of dark hooded eyes that made your heart start to race. The lips were plump, a bit dusky in color from the cold weather. A sharp jaw that led to a prominent chin. A triangular nose that connected to a pair of strong bushy eyebrows. A face you had so longed to see. A hand you hadn’t held in what felt like an eternity. There the two of you were, holding the same bottle of banana milk in the flickering light of the store, the coldness emitting from the refrigerated shelves.

It was him.

It was Changbin. 

He was right. 

Only when one decided to heal was it destined for you to meet in a dimensions that was real. A dimension that didn’t consist of an odd phone number and a crimson telephone booth. A world away from the loud music and booze and instead entering a world that had earlier been dark but now got lighter, your tunnelvision ending and objects getting their color back. The world seemed real again. Alive like the way scent of a rose made its way down your lungs and into your blood, feeding the feeling of love from within.

You met him. 

In a different place, in a different time. But you met the same person.

The person you were destined to meet. 

Taglist ; @minholuvs @liz820​ @skztrashbag @lix-freckle3​ 

[linkspooky]

Eren’s Dissocation

This month’s chapter has a lot of people confused on Eren’s actions. Why would Eren choose the worst option possible? Why force himself to do something he clearly doesn’t want to do? Why, when he’s given options to back out, does he instead double down on the bad decision making? Why, when no one is holding a gun to his head does he pick the worst available choice? 

The narrative obviously isn’t sympathizing with Eren so we’re meant to question his choices. So let’s get into Eren’s headspace. A place where clearly even Eren doesn’t want to be.

1. Other People

Eren displays a lot of paradoxes in his reasoning this chapter. His every action is a contradiction. He goes out of his way to save a child, and then crushes them later without lifting a finger to help. He says he wants to do this all for the sake of freedom, and yet he’s espousing ideas like a fixed future, and acting helpless to his eventual fate. Eren begs and cries for the child to forgive him for what he must do... when nobody is actually forcing him to do anything. 

It’s not only that Eren makes bad choices, but he also acts like he’s the victim of his own bad choices. He acts like he’s completely helpless to do these things. Eren says one thing, and then deliberately does another to contradict it when he DOES NOT HAVE TO. It seems like Eren is going out of his way to ruin everything and people are questioning what pushed Eren to this point of deliberate self destruction and acting like he was all out of options when he very, clearly wasn’t. 

Eren’s motivations make no sense.  Yeah.  They make no sense because Eren is trying to reconcile two irreconcilable ideas. The ideas of predestination and freedom are complete and total opposites ideas that cannot coexist in Eren’s mind. Eren can’t reconcile them. So he doesn’t.  Rather than try to justify himself or struggle to find the right answer Eren settles for the wrong one. Rather than try to justify his actions Eren avoids any confrontation of his actions all together. Eren distances himself - from his actions, the consequences of his actions, and his role in everything that happens.

It’s a simple idea, but also a complicated one which I will do my best to explain. How does Eren do this? How does Eren end up in this very contradictory mindset, where he just keeps making things worse, on purpose. And it starts with the way Eren sees other people. 

There’s a reason that Eren is made out to be so childlike and petty in this chapter. It’s because he is. This line is very vague, but if I were to explain it I would say. 

Eren is very bothered by the fact that other people exist. 

What I mean is, other people have thoughts, feelings, and entirely different opinions from Eren and Eren doesn’t really want to deal with that. While yes, it could be a line about how Eren saw the same oppression outside the walls as he did in Paradis, I think it’s a lot pettier than that. Eren got really, really, bothered by the fact that the world he imagined as empty was in fact crowded with other people besides him. 

In child developmental psychology there’s an experiment called the “Three Mountain Problem.” In the experiment a child is shown a model of a mountain from one perspective and asked to draw what it looks like. They’re asked to draw what they see.Then, a doll is placed behind the mountain looking at it from a completely different angle. The experimenter then asks the child to draw what the doll sees. The doll would see something completely different - but the child doesn’t comprehend that. They draw the exact same picture the first time. Children lack the ability to imagine that other people don’t. A child only sees the world from one point of view. 

You know what’s really frustrating? Arguing with other people. Sometimes even if you know you’re right, even if you state your argument perfectly and show the facts that person still won’t agree with you. It’s frustrating to deal with the fact that you can influence, but you can’t really control the opinions of others. 

Eren is fundamentally, unable to see, and deal with other people as people. By that I mean, their perspectives, their feelings, he can’t really see or understand those things outside of his own perspective. Other people ask things of him, require things of him, that he can’t give. Other people disagree with him, fight with him. 

Eren’s not an eco-terrorist.  He’s not bothered by the fact the world isn’t a natural paradise outside the walls. It’s the people themselves, that Eren finds disappointing. 

Eren can’t deal. On a micro-level. Let’s forget about the plot at large and just focus on Eren for a second. Who are the people that Eren has chosen to surround himself post-timeskip.

If Eren’s ultimate ideal is freedom why does he choose to trust Floche of all people? A sycophant, and someone who is practically begging to have all of his choices taken away from him? 

It’s also because Floch is also someone who won’t disagree with him, or question him the way his friends might. Eren just can’t deal. 

Eren claims that everything he does is out of love for his friends. He fights for his friends, sacrifices for his friends. He has to be the one to die so his friends can live. 

But, when Eren hears that Mikasa has the exact same motivation for him. That Mikasa wants to protect him, and fight for him the same way he wants to fight for her. When Eren hears that Mikasa might love him and show that love by always fighting for him, which is the exact same way Eren tends to show his love for his friends he doesn’t... get it. He can’t accept her feelings in any real way. He can’t even really understand them.

Eren wants to love Mikasa, he wants to love his friends, but he either can’t accept their feelings, or he just doesn’t want to. He’s allowed to love Mikasa, Mikasa can’t possibly love him back. Even when Zeke just straight up tells him to his face, Eren dismisses Zeke and says what Mikasa feels for him doesn’t even matter because he’s going to die in four years. Eren avoids her feelings, otherwise. 

That’s the key word here. Eren’s avoidant. In every single person he deals with, he’s avoidant. That’s how his very contradictory views of people are maintained. There’s a lot of examples I could list of this. Eren wants his friends to be free, but he goes out of his way to lock them up. Eren says he’s doing this for the sake of his friend’s happiness, and then antagonizes them as cruelly as possible. The reason he’s able to do these things, is that he avoids truly looking, or confronting his actions, and also the people he’s surrounded with in any real way.

Not only with Mikasa, you can see it in his interaction with Historia. 

Eren and Historia grew close because Eren said he wanted to get to know the real Historia. But, then he specifically asks Historia to do something that is the opposite of everything she stands for. When she disagrees with him, because she wants to live as an individual with her head held high with pride and make her own choices, do what she thinks is right as Ymir told her. When Historia tries to assert herself as an individual who doesn’t completely agree with him, Eren then switches tactics and tries to browbeat her into doing what he wants of her. 

Eren’s view of the world is very isolated, and insulated from others. Whenever somebody challenges his view, he makes the choice to retreat back inside of his own head rather than try to change. 

That’s also a natural consequence of Eren not seeing people as people. Because he avoids the thoughts, feelings, opinions of others it means his own thoughts never really change. He deprives himself of the ability to see things in a different way. Eren is stuck in a rut, but also Eren doesn’t want to leave that rut he wants to bunker down. 

2. Eren Himself. 

Eren’s head what a terrifying place to be inside. 

Dissociation is a mental process that causes a lack of connection in a person's thoughts, memory and sense of identity. Dissociation seems to fall on a continuum of severity.

Dissociation is a defense mechanism of the brain. So is avoidance. They are both learned defense mechanisms that the brain uses to protect himself, and they are also behaviors that people fall into to protect themselves. 

This is why Eren is depicted as a child over and over again. This is why Eren is shown constantly flashing back to his mother’s death. It’s because Eren never really got over that initial trauma, Eren has been stunted and never grew or developed from that point. 

Eren’s a big old manchild, and that makes sense just from what he’s been through. It’s easy to forget that Eren is a child soldier who like, never had a stable environment after losing his home. The reason he hyper focuses on his mother, and that initial incident is because that was the start of everything all the insecurity of his life. Eren adopted all these mechanisms to cope in a situation where he was truly helpless, and yet even after the situation changed, Eren’s internal mechanisms never truly did change and he kept on coping in the same broken way. 

Dissociation, and Avoidance. 

Dissociation is when a person divorces themselves, from their actions, from their own body, from their thoughts and feelings. 

Avoidance is when Eren deliberately goes out of his way to avoid any kind of real conflict with other people or having to deal with their feelings because he’s not equipped to handle them. 

Eren is hopelessly stuck inside of his own head right now. I don’t know what’s a better metaphor for that, then Eren literally... just being a head. It almost lapses into solipism. Eren has distanced himself from other people so far that he has... literally become a brain in a jar. 

Eren’s perspective is the only one that exists to him. But he also disagrees with himself. 

Eren wants the freedom to do whatever he wants. But he also, doesn’t really want to be doing what he’s doing right now. So, why does he use his freedom to do these things?

If Eren distances himself, both from the thoughts and feelings of other people, but also his own thoughts and feelings, where is he? 

He’s god.

Eren imagines his ideal world as one where he’s above the clouds, in an completely open sky. These are the symbols associated with the idea of god in most religions. Somewhere distant. Somewhere far away. 

Eren’s key operating word is distance. He is distancing himself from both other people, and his own actions at the same time, because he can’t really bear or even process the guilt of dealing with both. 

Let me explain Eren’s bad decision making with a simple metaphor.

So spiderman, right. Spiderman gets bitten by a radioactive spider. He has kind of a shitty life. He has no parents, he’s bullied in high school. He’s an average every day loser. Suddenly, he gets all of these super powers. It makes spider man feel special. He has super strength now, he doesn’t need to wear his glasses anymore. 

Then a robber runs by him, and Spiderman doesn’t lift a finger to help. Even though he has the special ability to help, he doesn’t take any responsibility for it. 

As a result of this choice, his Uncle Ben dies. 

Spiderman wanted the super powers, but he didn’t want like any of the added responsibilities of having super powers. In essence until Uncle Ben died, what Spider Man was living out was a power fantasy.

That’s what Eren is in the middle of. He’s always been this very weak and helpless child. He’s always felt like the person who just watched, unable to do anything when his mother died right in front of him. The way he’s dealt with that has always been imagining himself as getting stronger, and stronger, and stronger. 

Eren wants power, but he doesn’t want responsibility. 

The Sasha scene is literally the Uncle Ben scene. Eren kills a lot of innocent people, he makes a choice to do that, and as a direct result of his actions, someone else important to him dies. It’s a direct story consequence. Eren steps on Gabi’s friends -> Gabi becomes vengeful -> Gabi goes the extra mile to avenge the deaths of her friends sneaks on board and shoots Sasha. 

Eren’s mechanism however, is avoidance. He doesn’t want to be at fault. So he’s not. Which means when Eren makes bad decisions. When those bad decisions result in things getting wrose. Eren ignores the consequences of his actions, and is therefore unable to deal with those consequences in any real way. 

That’s why we see Eren get worse, and worse, and worse, and worse. Because he’s not learning from any of the choices he is making. Because from Eren’s perspective he doesn’t have a choice. 

To summarize the contradiction:  Eren wants to kill people, but he doesn’t want to feel like a murderer. 

Eren can’t make sense of that, because there is no making sense of that so he looks away. He looks away so he can’t learn, or even really see what he’s doing to people. This causes Eren to spiral. When people have gotten genuinely that bad, when people spiral to the point where it seems like every single thing they’re going to do is going to make things worse what do they start wanting?

Eren’s dream of killing all the titans, is paralleled exactly with Reiner’s urge to just, kill himself so he can be done with everything. That’s the real reason essentially. Yes, it’s extreme, but Eren might be y’know, an extremist? The micro-level informs the macro-level. 

Eren has gotten so bad in his mental spiral he’s reached the point where nothing else matters, where he just wants to give up and committ suicide. He wants to make the world disappear. He can no longer deal with the struggle against the world. He sees the only way to escape his problems is to either just wipe everything away, and wipe himself out. That’s metaphorical suicide. 

It’s just Eren’s always projected outward. 

Rather than deal with his own internal flaws, he tries to change the world around him. Eren has just externalized his own internal conflict to such an extreme extent. 

And yeah, Eren is literally just a head right now. Only his own internal conflict, only his own hurt feelings, matter. That’s what Eren does to the child. 

The reason that Eren draws the comparison to Eren is because that’s what Reiner did exactly to him. 

Eren is the hurt and injured party here. Reiner’s direction actions and choices killed Eren’s mom. However, it’s not about Eren’s feelings, Reiner makes it entirely about his own feelings. His own guilt. His own regret for what he did. How bad he feels about it. Reiner breaks down crying and is so self-involved he forgets that Eren is the one who is hurting here. 

Eren repeats the same action. He breaks down crying in front of a child and apologizes again and again. But it’s really about Eren. Eren makes it about himself, and his own guilt and remorse rather than the person he’s wronging. 

So yeah. It’s the end of the world and Eren’s just making it about himself. That’s the best way to explain it. It’s easy to kill another person if you don’t see, or truly care about their pain. 

Eren is a tool. And by that I mean he wants to take certain actions. Eren is violent, and wants to stir up conflict. He is because he’s a child soldier who has been raised that way all his life. Eren also knows that these things are wrong. Which is why he wants to take these actions, but in no way feel responsible for them. A gun is not responsible for a bullet leaving the barrel and shooting someone. Eren wants to be the gun, rather than the person holding the trigger.

Which is why Eren is now inside of a giant flesh monster that’s bent on destroying everything. He is the mechanism that destroys the world. It’s the extreme result of that line of thinking. But once again Eren’s entire character can be summarized in one line.

“Eren Jaeger is an extremist.” 

[rosepetalmark]

too soon.

↬ Jung Jaehyun x Reader ↬2.5k Words ↬Warnings: Mentions of alcohol ↬ Got in my feels one night listening to Keshi so this is inspired by his song “2 soon”

It hurt not having you there. After the breakup, which you both decided was amicable, something inside him snapped. 

At first, he let the sadness take over him. He knew these were all normal emotions to process once a breakup occurred, so he let himself mourn his loss. Just because you both decided you needed to focus on yourselves and careers, doesn’t mean it didn’t pain him knowing you wouldn’t be the first person he was able to hug when he got home from work, let alone kiss you whenever he looked your way. 

Most days he tried to distract himself, divulging himself into non stop practise, trying to work harder for the groups latest comeback, rather than drown in sorrow over his want for you and your relationship. 

Weeks had passed, and so did his urge to drink. At first he thought one shot would do, take the edge off and distract him from his thoughts and cheer him up a little, but five more shots later he was dizzy, sad, and still thinking of you. 

He reached for his phone several times in that moment, glancing at your name that’s been untouched for almost two months, desperately wanting to call you and ask if you’re doing well. If you miss him. If you still love him and much as he loves you. 

But each time he stopped himself, something within his heart knowing that you needed this time to heal as well. Hell, maybe you’ve already healed and want nothing to do with him. But he doesn’t know that, and he doesn’t want to know that. He just wants to be with you. 

And he knows this isn’t a healthy mentality to have. You both made it known that his career is at a very pivotal point, and that’s what he needs to be focusing on until he feels he is stable enough in his career to balance both being an idol, and a caring boyfriend to you. 

So each time he’s alone and in his thoughts, he gets wasted and cries about how he lost you, and how he wants nothing more than to put his career aside than to be with you. If you ever heard him say those words, he knows you’d be upset, wanting his happiness and career to be put first. It came before you after all, and you never wanted to be the reason for his career ever taking a negative turn. 

It wasn’t until he was at a yearly company party SM threw in December to not only celebrate Christmas, but all the successful comebacks and promotions each of their artists have done throughout the majority of the year. They may have worked NCT and Jaehyun to the bone this year, and this was just the slightest form of appreciation they had to offer. 

Yuta and Mark were joking about the time Jaehyun snuck you into one of SM’s after parties after the Golden Disk awards last year, focusing more on you than his friends and groupmates, never leaving your side or your lips for the matter; prompting him to drunkenly declare his love for you in front of the dozens of other celebrities surrounded in the same room as you all. 

Jaehyun was embarrassed when he remembered the next day, but you on the other hand thought it was sweet.  Knowing that he didn’t care what his repercussions were at the moment, only wanting to declare his love for you not only to you, but to those he's closest with and who know how hard it is to find love and maintain it in such a hectic and invasive career.

He got so drunk at this year’s party, that he locked himself in one of the building's bathrooms, tears streaming down his face because he knew the alcohol was not enough. It will never be enough. Alll he wants is you. 

Taking his phone out of his jacket pocket, he scrolled down to your name, and pressed “Call”. Knowing it was a long shot that you’d answer, considering you don’t have to associate with him if you didn’t want to, along with the fact that it was shortly after 1am, with you probably being fast asleep. 

With just two rings in, a soft “Hello” came from his speaker, nothing that you did in fact answer and were awake. 

“Hi.” Was all he managed to speak out, soft hiccups emerging from his throat, his cheeks getting hotter by the second as he doesn’t know what he’s going to say to you, let alone what you’re going to say back to him. 

“Are you okay Jaehyun? It’s 1am.”

Wiping his tears, he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t outright blurt out everything he was thinking and feeling the past few months, not wanting to scare you away from the intense emotions he was feeling as of late. 

“I don’t think I am.” He spoke softly, loosening his tie as it was constricting him from breathing properly through his intense tears.

“I miss you, like a lot.” He said between gulps, trying to calm down but his hiccups having other plans for him. “And I know we said this was for the best, but us breaking up has been eating me alive and I can’t stop thinking about you and us and it just really sucks.”

“It’s been two months Jaehyun.” You say, not knowing exactly how to process how he’s feeling. “Why didn’t you call me earlier if everything’s been bothering you so much?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I wanted to give you space and let you live your life without coming off as some pathetic loser who needs you all the time.”

“Well, you’re not a pathetic loser, Jung Jaehyun. You’re a human being who lives a hectic life, one with feelings who deserves to feel and process and be comforted whenever something’s going on in your life. Don’t ever feel bad about it.”

Processing your voice, Jaehyun couldn’t help feel the comfort and peace that flowed through his body whenever you spoke to him. You always knew what to say, and even when you didn’t, your presence was just as reassuring. 

“I miss you too, by the way.”

“You do?” He cries, trying his best to wipe his tears while maintaining his attention on your voice. “I thought if I called and you heard me like this you’d for sure be happy we broke up.”

“Breakups are painful Jaehyun. I can’t even imagine how you feel because I know you don’t have many people to talk about things so it must hurt to bottle things up.”

Which was true. Jaehyun kept your relationship a secret for six months before even letting his managers know, slowly waiting for the company’s okay with your relationship, but not wanting for it to be public. He never wanted to do that to you, hound you with the harassment and chaos that came attached to an idol. It was already bad enough when two idols dated, let alone when one dated a non- celebrity, fans worked even harder to learn everything and anything they could, potentially harming anyone at hand. 

Jaehyun first told Johnny when you two started dating, the smirk on his face never once fading whenever the mention of you came up. The rest of the members slowly began to find out, each congratulating him that he finally found someone who made him smile, and wasn’t with him because he was famous. Anyone he attempted dating in the past either wanted him for his fame, or was someone in the industry who wouldn’t shut up about the industry. 

Dating you was like a breath of fresh air, because compared to his hectic life, you were just a regular, comforting human being. You worked a part time job at the mall, attended university and were studying to be a social worker, and had a great obsession with baking banana bread. 

Whenever Jaehyun was with you, you reminded him of what it’s like to be a normal human being, not an idol stripped of all his talent, time, and energy to make a company even more rich and successful than they already were.

And it wasn’t to say you lived a boring life, but compared to him everything you’ve done and experienced was so mundane. Nothing made Jaehyun happier than when he showed you the tiny details that go on in an idols life, such as where he practises, to where he and the rest of NCT record their songs, even taking you behind the stages of award shows and comeback stages-wanting you to see the full effect and experience up close, rather than on a tv or in a dressing room away from all the magic. 

You were the clarity and compassion in Jaehyun’s life and it absolutely shattered him whenever you were unable to be with him when your lives and commitments came first. 

When you both decided it was necessary for you to break up, Mark was the first person who found out. Jaehyun entered the dorm quietly, his cap covering his eyes and mask slightly rising up the bridge of his nose, only exposing about a centimetre of his face. 

Mark knew better than to ask what was wrong, as past experiences with Jaehyun being angry never ended too well, so he gave him some space. But three days after entering the dorm pissed off and not leaving his room once, Mark took it upon himself to check up on him, only to find him curled up in a ball on his bed sobbing, discovering that you two broke up and clearly he wasn’t taking it well. 

It took him about 6 days before he left his bed to finally shower and eat something that wasn’t a granola bar or cereal stashed in his room or brought in by Mark, and 9 days for him to finally tell everyone why he was so distant and upset. 

Obviously, everyone was saddened that you wouldn’t be spending time with them anymore, but ultimately were hurting for Jaehyun as well, as they knew you meant a great deal to him, and losing you meant losing all the plans and dreams he had for wanting to marry you one day. 

Obviously not in the near future, but in around 5 years, when you were well out of school and had a full time job, and when Nct was well off enough to not be promoting as often as they had their first several years as a group; only ever promoting or touring for a portion of the year, rather than having breaks for a few weeks every few months. 

It took all the strength in Jaehyun’s body not to call you every night after you broke up, but clearly that did not work because here he was, unfortunately consumed by alcohol he used to help cope with the pain for the past several weeks, drunk and sobbing to you. 

“It’s just been really hard. I know we said it’s for the best but I hate not having you in my life. I miss going for food with you at 2am when you’re stressed about your assignments. I miss giving you long hugs when we go long periods of time without seeing each other and- fuck! I just am so in love and want to be with you the rest of my life and I hate how I let myself become so attached to you and this relationship but I cannot go on knowing there’s a chance you’re going to fall in love with someone one day and I won’t be that man marrying you or being the father of your children or holding you when you’ve had a hard day.”

“Wow, you’re really drunk.” You say, hugging your pillow to your chest because no one has ever uttered such raw, loving words to you before and you cannot help but fight off the urge to cry because you too, want that life for the both of you one day. 

“Yeah I know. I’m surprised I said all that right now because I’ve been fighting the urge to call you every night because I wanted to give you space.”

“I want all that with you, Jaehyun. I want us to get married and have three kids and two dogs and I want you to help teach them all how to read and for them to make you play dress up with them and have tea parties and make sand castles. I’m still in love with you and always will be so please don’t be sorry or surprised you’re feeling this way because we both know we deserve to be with each other.”

“I want you so much.”

“Do you want me to come see you? Just so we can talk and I can make sure you’re doing okay?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I get if it feels weird or it’s too late.” He didn’t want to pressure you into doing anything, especially the need to take care of him when he’s drunk and sad and completely in love with you. You’re not his babysitter, nor his girlfriend for the matter- you are not inclined to care for him or even see him because he’s a mess. 

But you still want to. Because even though you haven’t spoken in weeks, you know that Jaehyun is the love of his life, and hearing him be so sad and lonely is more than heartbreaking. It’s complete agony. 

“Nothing is too late or too weird when it comes to you. I want to hug you and never let you go and tuck you in bed and make sure you’re safe and happy when you go to bed.”

“I’ll meet you back at my dorm if that’s okay? If I’m at this party any longer I’ll go absolutely insane.”

“I’ll see you there, Jaehyun. Please be safe and text me when you leave.”

“Of course, anything for you. And thank you, for even just listening. You’re an angel and I can’t wait to see you in a few minutes.” He chimed, shortly ending the call after he said those last statements to you. 

Jaehyun doesn’t know for certain where his future with you stands, but he’s okay with that. He’s seeing you soon, and you just confessed that you’re still in love with him and want a future with him, and that’s all he needs.

His conversation with you managed to clear his mind and body out of the abundance of alcohol that once consumed him, his attention  and newfound excitement now focused solely on seeing you, touching you, just being with you. He quickly ordered himself a cab, not even saying goodbye to his members, beyond ecstatic to be within your presence. 

And for now, that’s all he could ever ask for. 

[even-after-a-millennia]

hold me close then let me go

For @nilefreemanweek2021 and the prompt Family.  Nile doesn’t just see the immortals she hasn’t met when she dies.  She sees her dad too.  You can read it below or on my ao3 account here. Gen | Rated T | 1.4k

The knife felt hot as it sliced through Nile’s neck.  She choked, falling to the ground.

“No!  Medic!  Man down!” Dizzy shouted, rushing to Nile.

Nile could feel Dizzy’s fingers wrap around the wound in her neck as her blood spilled on the warm floor beneath her.

“No, Jesus!  Medic!” Dizzy screamed, her voice cracking.  “Stay with me!” 

She pulled Nile’s helmet off her, her head now resting on the woven rug.  “Oh my God! Jesus, no.  Stay with me.  Look at me.”

Nile tried, but her vision was getting hazy.  She reached out with her hand and tried to grab Dizzy’s arm, but her hands didn’t have any strength left in them.

“Nile.  Nile!  You’re okay, it’s okay.  Stay with me.  Just look at me.  Look at me.”

Her hand bobbed up and down in the air, helpless, until Dizzy’s hand covered hers.

She felt a tear run down her temple.  Could hear Dizzy was still talking, though she couldn’t make out the words.

Then the light came and everything else faded away.

She saw flashes of a train, a man drinking from a flask, two men holding each other closely, a woman with short hair and tired eyes, and bubbles rising from the sea.  Then the light came again.

And standing before her was her father.

“Dad?” she asked, her voice small.

“Nile,” he said, his voice awaking a thousand memories.  “You’ve grown.  I missed you.”

“Dad,” Nile said again, her voice cracking as she launched herself at him.

He caught her and let out a huff of air.

“You were definitely not this tall the last time you did this,” he said, holding her close.

“It’s been fifteen years,” Nile said, clutching at him.

He was in his civies, the ones he wore when he was on leave at home.  

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.  “It has been a blink for me.  I knew it was you, though.  You look like your mother did at your age.”

Nile sobbed.

“I died, Dad,” she cried.

His hand started to rub up and down her back.  “I know, love.  I’m sorry.”

“It was horrible,” she said, her voice breaking.

She suddenly felt less stable in his arms.

“Dad.  What’s happening?” she demanded, looking down.  

“I don’t kno-”

She bolted upright in a hospital bed, gasping.  She looked around, half-expecting to see her dad there, but she was alone.  Reaching up to touch her neck, she felt gauze and tape in the way.

She let out a sigh and closed her eyes.

It only got worse.  Dizzy didn’t want to be around her.  The other women turned on her.  Everyone looked at her like she was a freak.  And she was going to be shipped out to be tested more.

All of it was too much.  She could still feel her dad’s arms around her, even as she walked through the base to where she would be leaving from.  Pulling up Frank Ocean, she let his words wash over her, taking over her brain until there was nothing left but, “I will always love you… how I do.”

But then there was a woman, the woman that she had seen momentarily in her vision when she died, with the tired eyes.  Andromache the Scythian, apparently.  She disarmed Nile in one movement and everything went black.

Nile woke up in the back of a Humvee, going across the desert.  She looked around, took in that the woman was driving, and kicked the back door of the Humvee open, rolling across the sand.

She ran, then a searing pain went through her skull for a moment before the light swept her away.

“Dad,” she said, looking at him with all the fear and confusion that she was feeling.  “I don’t know what’s happening-”

And she gasped awake.

The woman was standing there, Andromache, and Nile realized, “You shot me.”

“I did.  I need you to get back into the car, please.”

Nile could feel panic sinking in.  “No, this isn’t real.  None of this is real.”

Not her coming back to life from being dead.  Not seeing her dad.

None of it.

Then came the bombshell.

“You can’t die.”

Nile fought that, both physically when she fought Andy in the plane, and mentally, until she saw with her own eyes her arm and leg healing.  It was a little easier when she met the others, to know that she wasn’t alone in this.  

“We dream each other.  They stop when we meet,” Joe said.

“Why?”

“I believe it is because we are meant to find each other,” Nicky said.  “It’s like destiny.”

“More like misery loves company,” Booker said and Joe grinned at him.

Nile looked at Andy.  Their eyes met and Andy motioned to Booker.

“What he said.”

“And… before you guys wake, do you… see people who passed before you did?” Nile asked.

Nicky cocked his head to the side.  

“Have you been experiencing that?” Joe asked.

Nile nodded.  “My dad has been waiting for me each time.”

Booker reached for his wine and chugged it.  “No,” was all he said.

Andy shook her head.

“We do not,” Nicky said, seeming to answer for Joe and himself.

“Alright.”

But it got harder again when they were attacked and Joe and Nicky were taken.  She saw the carnage that Andy was capable of, the damage that she had learned to do after millennia of fighting.

Nile didn’t want to be that person.  

She was almost to the train station, checking the gun Andy was going to use for bullets.

And there weren’t any.

“Shit,” she whispered, putting it all together.  “Andy.”

Admittedly, shooting herself literally in the foot might not have been the best way to prove she could regenerate.  But it worked.  She got to the building.  She got in the elevator.

Then came the waiting.

Dad, she thought, looking skywards, I could really use your strength right now.

“Hands!  Let me see your hands,” one of the guards said.

She did, the gun barely out from behind her back before two bullets ripped through her chest.

“Hi Dad,” she said to him.  She let the warmth and light of the afterlife cocoon her, let the sight of her dad strengthen her resolve.  “I think I’m doing something really stupid.”

She woke, then fired, hitting each of the guards in the head with a bullet.

Nile took more hits, but nothing lethal.  Some were willingly taken, to save Andy from getting shot instead.

Then it was just her and Andy at the broken window.

And Merrick.

“Hey, Nile,” Andy said, a small smirk on her face.  “Do you think he speaks Russian?”

Nile frowned, then realization dawned and she shot in Andy’s direction, took the bullet Merrick shot, and watched as Andy whirled with her ax until it sunk into Merrick’s neck.  Jumping up, Nile put herself between Andy and the gun Merrick was trying to point, taking one more shot to the chest as she heaved them both out the window.

“SHIIIIIIIIII-”

“We keep meeting like this,” her dad said dryly.  

She laughed, because there was nothing else to do.

“Yeah.  Turns out I can’t stay here with you,” she said.  “Not yet, anyway.  But I’m glad I get to visit.”

He smiled and opened his arms.  “Me too, Nile.”

She walked into him, feeling safe for the first time in a while.

Then she woke, and everything hurt.  Repairing nearly every bone and organ in her body hurt.

“Ow,” was all she could say to encompass it all.

As they drove away from the carnage they had created, she took deep breaths in and out.  She hadn’t wanted to be that person, but to save Andy and the others, she had become what she didn’t want.

You come from warriors, Andy had said.

Yeah, Nile thought, echoing what she had said then.  I do.

And she had a feeling that if she continued down this path, she would be seeing her dad quite a lot.  It was a bittersweet thought, one that was paired with mental and physical pain.  He had been lost to her for so long and now she didn’t have her mom or her brother either.  She had a glimpse of him, in between moments of death and life.  Would her mom and her brother join him someday, in that bright space?

That would have to be enough until her true end.

And in the meantime, she thought, looking around at the other bloodied immortals in the vehicle, this could be alright.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || Looking After You [TW] [Request]

A/N: I put this as [TW] as I know some of the themes of not eating can be trigger to some people so please be warned about that. I love you guys xx [BTS X GenderNeutral!Reader] 

Seokjin:

It didn't take Jin forever to catch on to the fact that you hadn’t been eating great again, he'd been busy with comeback season he hadn't been home to cook and you didn't want to cook if it was only going to be you eating everything. You were living off soup and crackers and that was the only meal you would have,

"What did you have for breakfast?" Jin questioned when he came home earlier than expected that night. You shrugged your shoulders not being able to remember the last time that you'd even had breakfast,

"I think I just had soup at dinner," You said before going back to folding up laundry, Jin stared at you. He really stared at you trying to tell if you were losing weight or if it was just him and he sighed,

"I'm cooking tonight." You watched him as he then began hunting around the kitchen for everything he would need to make dinner for you both. It wasn't that big a deal, you just didn't see the point in cooking yourself a huge meal for only you to eat it, if Jin was home more often you would have done it but hed hardly been home in weeks.

"I'll make your favourites okay?" He asked it wasn't a question though. He was telling you what he was going to make and you were going to have to accept it so you hummed and went into the kitchen to help him cook.

"No, no, you go and finish the laundry and find us something to watch. I will cook." He kissed your head and sent you out of his kitchen so that he could work peacefully. He loved looking after you and being able to cook for you he just wished it was under different circumstances, where he would just randomly cook for you instead of feeling like he was forcing you or reminding you to eat. He made a mental note to himself to start taking a homemade lunch to work so he could leave you something to eat during the day.

Yoongi:

Yoongi felt terrible that had hadn't even been the one to notice that you weren't sleeping, he'd been so busy with work that he'd been sleeping at the studio most nights while you were at home. He assumed you'd be sleeping, you had troubles with sleep in the past and he knew that he just thought you'd gotten over it and he'd been so busy he hadn't noticed but when Namjoon came to tell him that he'd gone to see you that morning and you were passed out asleep in the kitchen Yoongi knew there was a problem. He rushed home to go and see you forgetting everything at work because nothing was more important to him than you were.

"Baby? You okay?" He questioned when he walked into the living room, you were sitting on the sofa with your chin in your hand struggling to keep your eyes open as you stared at the TV. You wanted to sleep and you needed to sleep but it was as if when you finally got ready to sleep your body hit you with a burst of energy and you couldn't.

"Sleepy." You mumbled before getting up from the sofa and rushing into the living room when you heard the alarm going off, he watched you closely wondering what you were doing when he heard a scream and a pan clutter against the floor.

"Babe!" He yelled coming into the kitchen to see you holding your hand as you tried not to cry, he could already see that your hand was starting to bleed a little from the hot pan you'd touched without a towel,

"Tap," He yelled, he was panicking a little as you started to let out tears of pain, he turned the cold tap on rushing you over to hold your hand under the freezing cold water,

"What were you thinking?" He asked as he looked at the tray of food on the floor, it could be cleaned up later when your hand was taken care of.

"I- I had to cook so I was trying to make sure nothing got burnt." You let out a whine and he sighed, he hated seeing you like this. You hadn't been this bad in a long time,

"Why didn't you tell me you hadn't been sleeping well?" He questioned as he went over to the food and began cleaning it up, you shook your head telling him that it was no big deal and that you'd hardly noticed.

"Namjoon found you asleep with your head on the kitchen table, don't tell me you didn't notice." You had noticed but you didn't want to go to Yoongi, he was busy with his own problems and you didn't want to bother him with any more than you had to.

"Baby, you're not bothering me at all." He took a look at your hand, it would be fine once he applied some cream and wrapped it up,

"I'm going to wrap you up and then we're going to go upstairs and sleep, okay?" You nodded at him, he and you both knew you slept a thousand times better with him as your side.

Hoseok:

You could look after yourself but sometimes you would slip up, forget to eat sometimes because you were so busy with work or you wouldn't go to sleep because something was due in with your boss the next day. You didn't see it as a big deal since you'd lived your entire life like this but Hoseok saw it as a huge deal,  he saw it as you skipping your meals and not sleeping which could lead to bigger problems. You could start falling asleep at work, on the drive to work or even worse passing out due to the lack of food in your system. He wanted to talk to you about it before it got any worse,

"Babe?" You jumped when you heard his voice coming from behind you, you didn't even know he was home yet.

"Sorry, I thought you heard me." He chuckled seeing the shocked expression on your face, you were almost as jumpy as he was when it came to people sneaking up behind you like that.

"It's fine, do you want something to eat?" You questioned going back down to the papers you were holding and he shook his head, taking them from you slowly.

"I wanted to talk to you about something, this actually." He said as he gestured to the papers you were staring at in his hands.

"It's my report for this week's interns, my boss wants me to file them tonight so I have to-" You stopped when you saw the pained expression on his face,

"You've barely eaten and you haven't slept all week as far as I've seen," You scoffed at how he was overreacting,

"I've slept-"

"How much?" You knew it wasn't the average amount of sleep someone should be getting but you'd been busy, you were getting enough to keep yourself stable in the day but you knew that answer was only going to upset him more.

"Hobi-"

"How much sleep are you getting a day?" He was standing his ground, you looked at the floor not knowing what to say without upsetting him and he sighed bringing you into a hug.

"We talked about this before-"

"I know, I just...I've been overworked and trying to stay on top of everything," You whispered but he just continued to hold you while you softly cried into his chest.

Namjoon:

"This is Namjoon speaking yes," Namjoon said down the phone as an unknown number called him,

"They what? Yeah, I'll be right there." He locked his phone and frantically began looking around his studio for some car keys,

"Namjoon what's going on?" Jungkook asked the leader, he'd never seen him look so scared before and it was starting to worry him.

"Y/n got into an accident, I have to go and get them from the hospital." He didn't have time to explain anything he just rushed out of the studio dropping the song he was working on for a later time, there were too many things rushing through his head right now.

"Namjoon. I'm fine." You groaned as he looked at the cast that was on your arm, he stared at you like you were insane.

"You could have left me at home." You mumbled as you laid on the sofa of his studio. He'd gone to the hospital, got you and took you straight to the studio so he could keep an eye on you.

"So you could neglect sleep again? I don't think so, go to sleep now." You rolled your eyes at him, you hadn't slept in two days and everyone was treating you like it was a huge deal.

"You fell asleep at the wheel, you could have hurt yourself or someone else." What he was forgetting was that the car accident wasn't even your fault, you were in a parking lot and someone went into the back of you breaking your arm when the airbag went off. The man was doing 40 mph in a parking lot what did he think was going to happen, you were lucky your handbrake was on and you hadn't turned on the engine or it could have been worse.

"I wasn't even driving, the engine wasn't on-"

"No excuses, what if you had been driving?" You knew he was right and the cast on your arm was a painful reminder of that. You stared down at the cast and then over at Namjoon. You could tell that what had happened was stressing him out so you laid down on the sofa and pulled one of his blankets over your body.

"Just don't do it again, you scared me." He whispered coming over to you and giving you a kiss on the head.

Jimin:

Jimin walked into the house at 4 in the morning to see you sitting in the living room covered in paint and standing in front of a giant canvas in front of you. You were oblivious to the world as you painted away your feelings with your earphones in, he knew that you were behind in your class but he didn't come home and expect you to be painting at 4 in the morning when he'd left at 6 am the previous morning and you were in the same position.

"Baby?" He called out walking behind you and pulling the earphone out from you ear, you looked shocking and he meant it in the nicest way he could. You didn't look like you'd slept for two days, you were covered in paint, different types by the looks of it and you were staring at him.

"What's up?" You were completely blind to what time it was, you figured it would just be a late-night instead of early morning.

"What's up?! It's 4 am why are you awake?" You frowned looking down at the time before yelling that you were late, you'd spent all week working on this painting for it to be late anyway?!

"Shit Jimin, I'm going to fail! It was due four hours ago!" You cried out finally letting the exhaustion take over your body. Tears rushed down your face as you tried to call your professor and beg to be able to get it handed in late but there was no answer,

"Fuck!" You whimpered looking at the painting which wasn't even finished yet anyway, you still had to add some finishing touches to it and yet you were behind.

"Babe! Relax!" Jimin said holding you in place as you frantically tried to call your professor but it was going straight to voicemail, he took the phone from your hands and threw it onto the sofa.

"I need to call her Jimin if this is-"

"Relax, look at me and breath. When was the last time you went to sleep?" He was searching your eyes as you panicked looking around the room trying to remember,

"I...I can't remember." You stuttered out and he sighed sinking down onto the floor with you in his arms,

"We need to get you some sleep, we'll call your professor in the morning and explain everything but you have to sleep."

"I need a bath-"

"In the morning, I'll change the sheets okay. Bed. Now." His tone was laced with authority and you knew he meant what he was saying so you followed him towards the staircase.

Taehyung:

Taehyung had hardly seen you that week, whenever he was getting in from the studio you'd already left to go to work, then whenever you got home he was going to the studio. Two ships passing in the night, but you made it work. You'd text one another to let the other know what was going on in their day or night and were planning a date night but something was off. Whenever Taehyung would come home to sleep off his day at the studio it hadn't looked like you'd slept in the bed at all, at first he figured it was just because you made it but then he began to notice how stressed you were in your texts. He took the day off work that day to surprise you but when he expected you to come home that you didn't, you were late in.

"Taehyung? What are you doing here?" You asked sleepily as you dropped a stack of papers onto the coffee table in your living room, he stared at it and then at you. It only confirmed what he'd thought, you hadn't been sleeping much.

"I took the day off, you're late home." He was trying to make himself seem calm about the stacks of paperwork you had to do,

"I was trying to get through that, a cleaner came by and told me they were locking up. I'm going to get on with it before I go to sleep," You told Taehyung as you nodded at the papers,

"No. You're going to come up to bed and sleep," He frowned not wanting you to make yourself any more tired than you were.

"It's due tomorrow Tae-"

"That's insane, where are the other employees?"

"Fucking the boss so they don't get shunned with paperwork." You yawned sitting down on the floor to work when he came over and knelt down in front of you,

"You're not going to get all of this done tonight. Come to bed," You shook your head at him explaining that if it wasn't done he could fire you,

"Then we'll sue him for dumping all of the work on you when there are other people who are quite capable." You knew he was right and you sighed not having the energy in you to fight him on anything right now,

"Sleep." You whispered happily as he helped you up from the floor and carried you in the direction of the stairs.

Jungkook:

When Jungkook was away on tour you slipped a little, turning to live on Ramen noodles instead of proper meals because you didn't see the point in making a large meal for one person and the rest to go to waste. Plus, Ramen was great and it was quick and easy for you to do while you were on the move for work which had you rushed off your feet since they began letting people go. You told Jungkook everything was fine and he had nothing to worry about which was one of the biggest lies you'd ever told him in your relationship, everything was not fine. The apartment was a mess and you were starting to get sick due to the lack of vitamins, proteins and everything else you needed from food to keep you running properly. The front door to your apartment opened and Jungkook dropped his bag on the floor seeing clothes everywhere, he was shocked to see the apartment in worse shape than the dorms used to be in. He called out for you but realised you must have been at work, he started cleaning up the house as a nice surprise for you when he found the ramen packets in the bin he knew instantly you'd lied to him about being fine.

You hadn't even noticed Jungkook's car in the driveway, you were too tired from work and too sick to car. It wasn't until you walked into the house and smelt food cooking that it hit you that you weren't alone,

"Kookie?" You whispered seenig him in the kitchen, he took one look at you and you knew you were in trouble. He had the same look of disappointment that he got whenever you were in trouble with him.

"You told me everything was fine, that you were okay!" You sighed as he started yelling and he relaxed knowing it was the last thing you needed right now,

"I ran you a  bubble bath, add some more hot water. By the time you're done food will be ready," You thanked him for what he was doing and he took his head at you promising it was what boyfriends did.

"Go and get in the tub, please." You kissed him before heading in the direction of the bathroom wondering what you did to get such an amazing and caring boyfriend all to yourself.

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