#ofc hes going to be upset and have trouble navigating those feelings

[sourstiless]

ik the fandom has a problem with infantilizing adrien but good lord this is like one of the times it actually makes sense to be empathetic and expect him not to react maturely. the kid just found out he’s an orphan and all anyone can talk abt is how mean he was to marinette can we be serious💀💀

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 17

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: FINALLY HARRY SPEAKS A LIL. This chapter is a bit different but I hope y’all enjoy it anyway. Please, let me know! When you’re finished reading, please consider donating to the Black Covid Relief Fund!!! Black people are often disproportionately affected by medical emergencies. If you can’t donate, find some petitions to sign or another way to continue helping! Xx

Harry had barely slept. He watched the sun rise, painting the west wall of Melody’s room in rich pinks and golds, unwilling to leave the bed. He didn’t know how she’d feel if she woke and he wasn’t next to her. In fact, he didn’t know how she would feel when she woke and he was.

The answer came not long after he began to wonder.

Melody blinked her eyes open, facing the wall beside the bed. Her head felt weighted, like she’d had too much to drink. And she probably had, now that she thought about it. She usually rationed herself with wine.

The memory of wine triggered the memory of the events at dinner’s end. Melody had hoped, at first, that she’d had an incredibly vivid nightmare. But the wine was still sweet on her tongue, and the blood spattering the restaurant’s floor was not something that would come in dreams. She blinked again at the wall, dreading the day. But eventually she turned onto her back.

Harry was studying the marks in the ceiling when Melody shifted beside him. She watched his eyes begin to drift toward her face before snapping skyward again. He stiffened, wondering if she would speak to him. Wondering if she might climb right over him and pretend he didn’t exist.

“How could you do that?” she asked, the first words of the morning. Her voice was soft. Harry was suddenly grateful that this conversation had not taken place the night before.

“I...” Harry closed his eyes. It was ironic that now the pull of sleep threatened to keep them shut, when he needed to be alert. He fought to stretch them open and then looked down at the bruises dotting his knuckles. “I didn’ do it to upset you,” he finally answered. “Can yeh believe that?”

Melody sighed. “I believe that you don’t try to hurt me intentionally, yes.”

“‘M frustrated. I’ve already told yeh that, but ‘s like there’s this buzzing in my whole body and I can’ get rid of it unless I hit someone.”

“Sean is not some stranger you can knock around, Harry.” Melody sat up, bending her legs to hug her knees. “He doesn’t deserve that. I don’t deserve this. You accused me of sleeping with him. And I know that it was just a fucked up excuse to fight, but what if I hadn’t? What if I hadn’t known that? Do you understand how it feels to hear you say that?”

Harry’s heart leaped. Out of place, somehow, closer to his stomach than in his chest. He shook his head slowly. “I didn’ mean it,” he murmured.

“You keep saying things you don’t mean, Harry.” Melody released a short laugh, but it was the most humorless sound Harry had ever heard. “Do you think there aren’t consequences for that? You’re sorry for it after, so it’ll just go away? It doesn’t go away. I still remember you saying those things.

“And I keep forgiving you,” Melody continued, looking at the west wall, which was fading into a magnificent yellow as the sunrise ended. Her voice cracked and Harry worried that she was close to tears again. “And my heart fucking aches every time you do something like this without thinking about me, about how I might feel. Because I do think about you. I think about you in almost every single thing I do. And it’s not fair.”

Melody wiped the silent tears from her cheeks, relieved by her own honesty, apprehensive of Harry’s response.

Harry rubbed his eyes. Melody looked fully at him for the first time this morning and noticed how tired he appeared, the dark circles rimming his eyes, the drawn look of his face. She almost sympathized, remembering his gentle caresses when she had trouble sleeping.

“‘S not fair,” he agreed, swallowing thickly. “‘M so sorry, Mel. If I could take it back this time, I really would. And not just so yeh wouldn’ be angry. I fucked up.”

“I’m not angry, Harry,” Melody said, turning away when he looked back at her. “I’m not. I can’t be angry anymore.”

Harry struggled to pull himself up, leaning against the windowsill. His heart hammered within his chest as she avoided his eyes again. This felt like anger.

“Well, I am angry.” Melody’s gaze finally flickered to meet his. He found that he couldn’t hold it. “I’ve been angry for a long time and I don’ know how to let it out any other way. It shouldn’ have been Sean, but—Christ, at least he can hit back.”

Melody watched him lift a hand and prod at the edges of his nose. She pressed her lips into a thin line. “He shouldn’t have to hit back, Harry. You are out of control.”

“‘M not just—”

“You need a therapist,” Melody said, and Harry fell very quiet. He waited a few breaths to absorb what she’d said.

“I don’ need—”

“You do,” she insisted, sitting up straighter, as if it might lend her words more weight. “This is the most you’ve talked to me since I’ve known you, Harry, and it didn’t come until after you attacked Sean, after you said...what you said.” She drew in a deep breath. “You need to work out whatever’s going on in your head, and you won’t let me help. I’ve tried. So you need to talk to someone else.”

Melody watched Harry’s expression close off. She glanced at the greenery above his head and noticed the brown edges protruding from one of the pots. Her favorite plant was dying and she hadn’t noticed because she’d been so caught up in everything else that had been going on around her.

She waited for another minute, allowing Harry to form some type of response. But the silence persisted. And when she grew sick of waiting she unfolded her legs and lifted herself over him to leave the room.

***

“So Harry, what brings you here today?”

Harry still had his jacket on, zipped to his chest, prepared for a quick getaway. He scratched at the leather of the armchair he sat in with one fingernail, a nervous tick. Nervous was not an emotion familiar to him.

“My…my girlfriend,” he answered, low in his throat.

“What’s her name?”

“Melody.”

The therapist smiled, scribbling over the notepad she held in her lap. She glanced up when she’d finished, watching Harry scratch and tap at the arm of his chair, bounce the ball of his foot on the floor.

“Did Melody ask you to come?”

Harry nodded, now drawing his ankle up and over his other knee. He glanced out the window and watched the light at the next intersection shift from red to green, listened to impatient horns sound.

“Would you like to tell me about her?” the doctor prompted. Harry had already forgotten her name. Bidel or Beetle, something like that.

“What about her?”

“Well, how did you two meet?”

Harry breathed out a dry laugh. He pressed his lips together, but fought the part of him that wanted to keep silent and launched into a retelling of middle school, the bullies and his brother and Melody, and his first boxing class.

“You’ve been dating since sixth grade?” she asked. Beutel. Her name was Dr. Beutel.

“No, tha’s just when we met. I met her again a little over a year ago.”

Dr. Beutel scribbled feverishly. “It’s hard for me to believe you’ve lived in the States since you were that young. Your accent is rather distinct.”

“I moved back,” Harry informed her. “We moved back to Cheshire that year. I got kicked out of school.”

The therapist frowned, laying her pen down flat on her notepad. “For fighting,” she said, unquestioning.

Harry nodded.

“Do you fight professionally?”

Harry’s lips puckered. “Not anymore.”

“And how did...” she gestured to his face, scabbing cuts and yellowing bruises.

Harry sighed. “Uh, tha’s why she wanted me to come here. I kind of fought Sean. He’s my...my friend. Well, he was my trainer, really. And now he’s not. Now he’s her trainer.”

“Melody’s.”

“Yeah.”

Dr. Beutel shook her head almost imperceptibly. She stroked the pendant on her necklace once and then crossed her legs, pulled her notepad closer.

“Okay, how about we start from the beginning? Your family.”

Harry drew a hand over his face, carefully avoiding his nose. “Not my favorite subject.”

“So I’ve guessed.” She smiled wanly. “You’ve talked a little bit about your brother. Half-brother, right? What about your parents? Do you get along?”

“With my mum. Haven’ talked to my dad in almost six years.” Harry was surprised at his own bluntness.

“And why’s that?”

“Because he doesn’ give a fuck about me. Instead of protectin’ me he let Colton live in our house.”

“And do you think Colton would hurt you?”

Harry barked out a laugh. He’d forgotten that this woman didn’t know about the strangest parts of his life yet. She only had snippets.

“He shot me last year,” he deadpanned, “in the head.” He pulled back the hair brushing his left ear to reveal the pockmarked scars in his scalp. “And I was in a coma all summer. Sorry, I should’ve led with that.”

Dr. Beutel froze, staring at him, her fingers hovering over her pen.

“Oh, also my mum has brain cancer. She’s been in and out of hospitals since we moved back to Cheshire.”

Harry waited while his therapist began to reconcile this with what she already knew about him. The seconds ticked by. She wrote in her notepad without speaking another word to him and then she glanced at her watch and gasped.

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. We’re over time for today. Can you come back next week?”

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to come back. Today had felt like a joke. It didn’t make him feel any better, it hadn’t even tapped into the restlessness sizzling just beneath the surface of his skin. But he nodded as he left.

“I look forward to seeing you,” Dr. Beutel said as he closed the door.

***

A week and a very meager amount of progress with Melody later, Harry sat in the same chair, somehow more relaxed. Melody had barely spoken to him since the morning after her birthday, not that he blamed her. But if he felt lonely before, now even Bea paid him the slightest mind. And Josie was still pissed that he’d put her leftovers at risk.

“How are you doing?” Dr. Beutel asked.

“Peachy.”

“You sure you didn’t mean cheeky?”

Harry grinned for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He tipped his shoulder up. “Not completely sure.”

Dr. Beutel smiled back. She slid her feet to one corner of her armchair, twirling the pen she held between her fingers.

“Just before our last session ended, you told me about your mother. She has recurring cancer?”

Harry nodded, his smile slipping faster than the changing traffic light outside the window.

“Are you close with your mother?”

“Well,” Harry began, stalling for a moment to ponder the question, “I guess yeh could say that. I haven’ seen her in almost two years but I talk to her a lot.”

“Has Melody spoken with her?”

Harry felt his own face contort. “Uh, no. I call my mum when she’s not around.”

“Why is that?”

He huffed out a thoughtful breath. “I dunno, really.”

Dr. Beutel began to write. Her pen twisted slowly across a clean page of her notepad. “Do you think,” she asked, without looking up, “that it might be because you separate your life into two categories?”

“What?”

“Your life in England, your family, I think that you might compartmentalize them. Separate from Melody, I mean. And even boxing. I think that Melody feels outside of that space for you, and that might be why it bothers you so much—her fighting and you not. It might seem like she’s bleeding across the borders that you’ve put in place.”

Harry didn’t know how to respond. He glanced down at the ugly scabs that spotted his knuckles, still pulling at his skin every time he stretched his hand.

“You live with Melody?”

Harry nodded, still not meeting the doctor’s eyes. He was worried what else she might see if he were to look fully at her.

“And did you live with her before? Before your injury, I mean.”

“No.”

From this angle, he could still see Dr. Beutel nodding to her notes.

“So, Harry,” she began, piecing together the information that she’d gathered, “did you have any girlfriends back in England?”

Harry shook his head, clearing his throat. “No, ‘m not really one for relationships.”

“Well, maybe you weren’t before, but I think you are now.”

“What?” He looked up at last and Dr. Beutel was smiling at him, her head tilted.

“Melody asked you to speak with a therapist. Would you ever have done that before? Would you talk about yourself this much with a stranger if it wasn’t for her?”

Harry was quiet again. This was something that had worried him for nearly a year. Half of the things he’d done since he began seeing Melody, he never would have dreamed of doing before her. This wasn’t the person he’d grown used to being.

“I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you,” the therapist said, when he didn’t return the conversation. “You’ve experienced a lot in your life. A lot more than most people could claim to have experienced in an entire lifetime, but I think you’re in a good place right now. It sounds to me like Melody cares very much for you. And even if it hasn’t been a conscious thought, you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

“I don’!” Harry nearly shouted. He paused and sat back in his chair, collecting his emotions and lining them up. He knitted his fingers together over his stomach. “I don’. It was her fuckin’ birthday and I hit her trainer—”

“Your friend,” Dr. Beutel corrected. She hadn’t even flinched at his outburst. “You hit Sean, your friend. These two areas of your life—fighting and Melody—they’re blending and he’s a large player in that mix. Do you think you don’t deserve Melody because you picked a fight with Sean, or do you think you picked a fight with Sean because you feel like you don’t deserve Melody?”

Harry’s mind spun. “What, you mean like ‘m tryin’ to fuck up on purpose?”

“Perhaps,” she answered with a nod. “Perhaps some part of you is trying to find a way out.”

Harry sighed and sifted a hand through his hair, fingertips brushing his scars. “What should I do?”

The therapist laughed gently and shook her head. “I mean, I’m not a fortune-teller, Harry. I don’t know what will help you patch up your relationship and I don’t know what will let you out of it. But I do think you need to put in some positive effort if Melody means something to you. Try to redirect your aggression. Maybe go to one of her matches?”

The suggestion was quiet, soft, a mere idea. And Harry’s heart ticked uncomfortably at the sensation of being seen. Would anyone else have been able to untangle the complex knots of his life with the information he’d given Dr. Beutel? Would Melody? Harry wasn’t sure, and he didn’t know if he wanted anyone else to examine him this meticulously. But he said his thanks before he left, anyway, and the entire way back to the apartment, he felt like he was studying his own thoughts from a new perspective.

Chapter 18

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard, 3

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1861

Warnings: None this chapter

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man.  When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood.  While others expect Thor to make things more official.  What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note: Written with my very own Clint Barton @fanficwriter013​

Chapter 3 - The Hair Cut

That night we all gathered together for a family meal.  Wanda and I had cooked.  She took the lead so there were a lot of Sokovian and Romany dishes, as well as some very American sides like Mac and Cheese just in case the kids were being fussy.

Thor sat with Riley in his lap as Steve put Pietro in his highchair.  “This is Riley’s highchair,”  Steve said indicating to the other chair.  “If you don’t want her wiping her sticky fingers on you while you eat.”

“Am I not meant to be a napkin?”  Thor joked.

Steve chuckled.  “You can be if you like.  But there are other options.”

“I’m sure she will love using you as a napkin.”  I teased.

“I would assume so,”  Thor said as Riley buried her face into his neck and started kicking her legs.

Wanda and I put a variety of foods into the kid’s bowls and then sat and began helping ourselves.

“Now, Natasha,”  I said when everyone had started eating.  “There’s something you need to come to terms with.”

“What’d I do?”  She asked.

“Well, see... here's the thing,”  I said, putting my fork down and looking at her.  “Out here at the compound, we can go outside with the kids and play or do whatever and we're left alone because the worst case it’s just agents around, but generally the house is isolated.  If we go back to the tower, the only way the kids can get to play outside is to go to the park, which means…”

“No,”  Nat said, firmly.  “Nope.  No.  Nuh-uh.”

“They have to be able to go outside and play, Nat,”  Sam said.

“No.”  She repeated, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Nat, they have to.  Taking out the psychological need children have to do that.  They need vitamin d to live.”  I said.

“They can play on the roof,”  Natasha said.  “You said you could make a garden for them to play in, right, Tony?”

“Yeah.  I can do that, but Nat, you can’t …”  Tony started.

“Three years!”  Natasha almost shouted.  “I have saved them from those monsters for three years!”

“I know you have, Natasha,”  I said.  “You've done a great job.  But every year you do it their world becomes smaller.  They can't just exist in a bubble where there are no other parts of the world.  They should be able to go to the beach or Disney or the park with their dog.  The longer we keep them from that the less chance they have of actually being normal kids who can interact with society.  They will grow to resent us for what we kept from them.  I know it sucks... but we have to figure out a way we can navigate in the actual world that negates the damage.”

Natasha scowled and muttered something in Russian as Clint rubbed her back.  She let out a breath and gave a slight nod.  “They need to respect their boundaries, or so help me…”

“Luckily we have someone here who grew up with it and might have some ideas,”  Steve said.

“We could take out restraining orders.  Happy was always pretty good at keeping them out of shot of me.  I’ll talk to him.  Maybe they can have a team that just stays out of sight and sweeps around.”  Tony said.

“That’s a start,”  Steve said.  “We’ll work this out, Natasha, but El is right, as much as we want to protect them, they can’t live in a bubble.”

“I want to keep them in a bubble,”  Natasha muttered.  “I mean it though, I’ll kill them if they get too close to my babies.”

“Mama!”  Pietro scolded, scrunching up his nose.  “Don’t be naughty.”

Natasha laughed so hard she snorted.  “Sorry, bud.”

“Nat snorted.” I giggled.

“El, don’t make me get in trouble with my son again.”  She warned.

“What?  It was cute.”

She eyed me but didn’t say anything and I smirked at her as I took a mouthful of my food.

“I may require some assistance here,”  Thor said.

We all looked over to him to see Riley’s hand stuck to the side of his head.  She looked distressed as Thor held her hand in place so she didn’t yank his hair out.

“Oh, damn,”  Clint said getting up and coming over to him and slowly trying to get Riley’s hand free.  “Okay, get me the vinegar.”

I got up and rushed to the kitchen, bringing back apple cider vinegar.  “Okay, bug, don’t move,”  Clint said as he began to work the vinegar into Thor’s hair and untangle Riley’s hands from it.

“Daddy!”  Riley whined as she tugged on Thor’s hair.

“Jelly Bean, your hand is literally attached to someone else right now,”  Clint said.  “You know how you complain when daddy brushes your hair too hard and it rips the knots out?  That’s what you’re doing to Daddy Thor right now.”

“Sorry, daddy.”  She said, starting to cry.

“It’s okay, princess.  I’m not angry.”  Thor said.

“I stuck.”  She said, fat tears running down her cheeks.

“I know,”  Thor said.  “Daddy Clint is going to get you out.”

“You kids need to use your forks when you eat,”  Steve said.

“Yeah, that’s the difference between babies and big kids,”  Natasha added.

“‘M a big girl.”  Riley sobbed as Pietro picked up his fork and awkwardly started to shovel Mac and Cheese into his mouth, more spilling down his front than getting in his mouth.

Clint managed to work Riley’s hand free and she stopped crying and looked up at him  “Fank you, daddy.”  She said, opening and closing her hand.

“You're welcome, sweetheart,”  Clint said wiping her hands clean.  “Now we’re going to use our fork and after dinner, you and your brother are going to have a bath.”

“Baff!”  Riley said excitedly.

“No, Baff, daddy,”  Pietro whined.

“Thor, we’re going to need to put coconut oil in your hair to untangle it properly.   Maybe a hair mask.  I can help you with that after dinner if you like.”  Clint said.

“I would appreciate that,”  Thor said.

We all finished up eating and Wanda and Sam took the kids for their bath while Clint and I took Thor to fix his hair.

“Take a seat on the edge of the tub,”  Clint said.  “Gotta rinse it out first if I’m gonna try and save it.”

Thor took his shirt off and sat down on the rim of the tub.  Clint began to fiddle with the water and started to rinse Thor’s hair.  “El, can you pass me the wide-toothed comb.”

I handed it over and he carefully began to pick out the knots with it.  “This is going to be some feat.  I hope you’re feeling patient, Thor.”  Clint said.

“You could just shave it.”  I joked.

“Yeah, that would definitely be easier.”  Clint chuckled, as he very patiently worked on Clint’s hair.

“Perhaps that would be best,”  Thor said.  “She was very upset at being stuck.  I do not like that I upset her like that.”

“You’re sure?”  I asked.

“Yes.  I’m sure.”  Thor said.

“Oh, god,”  I said, going to grab the clippers.  “I can’t believe we’re about to shave off the mighty Thor’s beautiful tresses.”

Clint began prepping the clippers while I plugged them in.  “Why are you more upset than Thor?”

I shrugged.  “I’m a dramatic bitch?”

“Okay, well. Don't scream.”  Clint said.  He turned the clippers on and ran them through Thor’s hair.

“Oh my god,”  I said as I watched.  “Don’t make him bald.”

“Don't worry, it'll look good,”  Clint said as he worked.

I watched on as Thor’s hair got shorter and shorter, his blond locks collecting on the floor around him.  I swept up as Clint went and soon it began to look more like a hair cut.  Quite like Clint’s actually.  Short, back and sides, a little more length to the top.  Clint pulled back and looked over his work.  “It’s still gonna need a treatment.”  He said.

“Coconut oil?”  I asked.

Clint nodded and grabbed a brush to sweep away the stray strands and I got the coconut oil and began to work it into Thor’s hair and scalp.

Thor looked up at me and hummed.  “Thank you both.”

“You're welcome.  Sorry about ol' sticky hands.”  I said.

He put his hand on my hips and smiled softly.  “I was warned.”

“Well, this is extreme,”  I said.  “He’s done a good job though.  Steve might say you copied him.”

Thor chuckled.  “It was getting a bit much anyway.  With all my duties I barely had time to take care of it properly.”

“Really?”  I asked, spiking it up at the top.  “But don’t you have people for that.  You had all the braids and everything.”

“I know, but… I have been growing less comfortable with asking for that level of treatment.  I know my people don’t mind but I always feel more relaxed here, when I lack all the privileges that come with the crown.”

“You feel guilty don’t you?”  I asked.  “About not being able to be here?”

“Very much.”  He agreed.

“You’re doing your best.  You’re allowed to put them down when you’re here.”  I said.  “This isn’t ideal, I know.  It wasn’t planned either and you are the king whether that’s what you want or not.”

“They don't want to be put down,”  Thor said, sounding guilty.  “They climb me.”

“I know.  They are really, really excited to see you.  And you're very strong and they like that you just put up with it.”  I said, taking a seat beside him.  “But... being a parent is more than that.  What you're being is a fun uncle.  Which... is Loki's job I guess?  You can be firm with them about boundaries.  And you should be.  That's what being a parent is.”

“I miss them when I am away.  I want to make it count.”  He said, frowning.

“They love you.  We all do.”  I said, rubbing his thigh.  “Are you seeing anyone?  Else I mean.”

“I’m supposed to.”  He said.  “But no.  Nothing else feels right outside of this.”

I rubbed his leg.  “This will always be here.”

“You can probably rinse that out now,”  Clint said sweeping the last of the hair into the trash.

I grabbed the showerhead and rinsed the oil out of his hair.  When he was done I switched it off.  “You want to check the damage?”  Clint asked.

“Please.”  Thor agreed, getting up and looking in the mirror.  “It looks good.  You are good at this.”

Clint blushed a little.  “Thanks.”

Thor pulled Clint up against him.  “No, thank you.”

Clint grinned and leaned up and kissed Thor.  Thor pulled him closer and kissed him hungrily.  Clint hummed and submitted to him, almost melting in the larger man’s embrace.  Thor pulled back and looked down at Clint, he caressed his jaw gently.  “I have missed you, little bird.”

“I missed you too,”  Clint said.

“Shall we go find the others?  Have a little fun?”  Thor suggested.

I smiled and came over and kissed his shoulder.  “I think that’s a very good idea.”

// NEXT

[demonicintegrity]

oKAY heres the details on that depressing Devildice human highschool au i made with a friend back around 2017/2018. Kinda a mess so bare with me. long post with themes of abuse, depression, and other nasty stuff.

- Lucifer Angelo grew up in a pretty bad place in Texas. The details werent fleshed out other than that it was a pretty ignorant place.

- The important fact of the matter is that his dad (who we never did settle on a name for lol) was a Christian preacher. Charismatic man, but an absolute shithead to Lucifer. Even with his other kids he was strict and pushed his ideals and plans onto them. Also had a temper and a loud voice.

- Preacher Angelo was once a pretty alright man, although very self-centered and was pretty condensing. He had a marriage early on in his life and had a few kids, named after archangels. Marriage fell through, and he starts drinking and moves on the next one a bit after. Have a couple more sons named after archangels. It also falls apart. On number 3? he has the final sons to complete his arch angel themed kids. At first it was just in honor/inspired by the angels and his Christian lifestyle, tho i think around the second marriage is where he just started getting delusional and started thinking himself as godlike and thought his sons will spread his word and whatever. Needlessly to say, his partners once they found this out went :/ and it went downhill from there.

- Man we really just took every flaw and worse thing to have in a parent and shoved it into this bastard lmao

- Lucifer was actually the product of an affair within his final marriage. Ofc cheating was a dealbreaker and they divorced. The girl he was cheating with stuck around a little bit, but died in childbirth due to complications. Thus he was left with this child that wAs BoRn FrOm SiN so he named him Lucifer. He would be his son of sin while his other sons would be Perfect People. (Even though they and their mothers started to want nothing to do with him lmao)

- He got by and took care of Lucifer decently but because this was an AU of Angst(TM) Preacher Dickhead became an alcoholic, had money troubles over time because economy troubles or whatever, and took out his temper on his son more and more. Luci was taken to church every Sunday by his dad.

- Kingsley Dyce was born in Lousiana to his parents Patrick and Fahri. We had a whole separate story for Fahri’s family and how they met, it was cute but that’s completely irrelevant right now. They lived modestly and were technically stable but there wasn’t always extra money for fun stuff and there were times were they were just getting by, but they never let Kingsley onto it.

- Kingsley (nicknamed King or KD by his friends) was a pretty cool kid. Had fun in Louisiana despite being a bit flamboyant and full of himself, made good friends. His relationship with his parents were fairly okay. He was a total mama’s boy, loves his mother to death and would do anything for her. As he became a teen his relationship with his father got a bit more strained because Patrick was a very Traditional person and into his teenage hood Kingsley had a habit of dancing not-so-masculine or modestly. He also was getting into makeup.

- Stepping back tho, as a kid he was in the church choir. His family is Catholic and his parents took him to church every Sunday. His favorite activity was to rollerskate. He and his friends were always skating to each other’s houses or skating at the rink. Skating, video games, and singing was his life.

- During his 6/7th grade his family moved to Maryland because of a job opportunity. King was suuuupper bummed. Maryland isn’t like Louisiana at all so there was an adjustment curve. Despite that, he didn’t have a hard time make friends. (insert humanized casino crew here)

- Side note: KD had a tooth gap as a kid and got braces during middle school to correct it. It gave him a lisp. He also had glasses and a questionable sense of fashion throughout middle school. This isn’t super relevant but its important to me that you can imagine this kid as the doofus he was. He also was roughly at an average height.

- In 8th grade there was a new kid that came into his class; Lucifer. Luci’s dad had also moved to Maryland for a job. Despite his entire class wondering what the hell was this southern emo kid’s problem, he wasn’t overtly bullied, just ignored. KD however, was intrigued by this asshole and made it his goal to figure out his issue and be all up in his business.

- Luci is currently dealing with some of his hardest years here. In Texas he had a hard time making friends, was bullied, and wasnt surrounded by the best sort of people. His abuse was getting worse as his father struggled more and more, and the move wasn’t the greatest fix considering he was still drinking and getting himself into debt. Luci didn’t care about school nor about life in general.  But then this asshole waltz into his life and boy golly was he feeling things about it.

- The relationship at first just KD latching onto Luci and talking to him about any and everything and trying to drag him around town. Slowly, Lucifer began to be amused by this jerk and his friends. He also didn’t live too far away so KD was able to easily bike to his place even though he never wanted KD over.

- KD picked up on the abuse Luci was going through, and honestly didn’t know to confront it. At first it was just sharing food cuz Luci wouldn’t eat and chatting to him because he got uncomfortable seeing Luci alone with head down all the time. Eventually he talked to his mom about it and the two of them kept inviting Luci over. Fahri became the mom Luci never had and Patrick despite working long hours and extra shifts, would take time to give Luci practical lessons and be a better masculine figure in his life. Luci was slowly being given a family but he also was pulling away from it. He was in the midst of a depression and he was pretty mean to everyone to deal with it, and pulled to himself more as he began to love KD and his family. The new friendships doesn’t cure depression, nor was it helpful against abuse.

- TW under break for more details of abuse, neglect, depression, and suicide

- His abuse was verbal and physical. He got yelled at for being a failure, yelled at because he didnt care about school, drunk his fathers booze, got into trouble and lashed out. He got beat for back talking and whenever the drunk asshole wanted to fight with him. It had been going on for years. He was also neglected pretty bad. Food wasn’t super plentiful in the house, he lived on fast food and luci didnt know how to cook. There was more booze in fridge than food. Power/water would sometimes not be on if his father forgot about certain bills. It was bad.

- Some time during this 8th grade year he also developed a crush on KD, he didnt voice it because his dad was homophobic as shit but also because he certainly didnt know how to navigate love and didnt want to ruin his relationship with KD. So he repressed it.

- Also during this 8th grade year Luci tried to commit suicide. He had texted KD before hand too, with some note that boiled down to he cared a lot about KD but couldnt stand anything in the world/his dad/bringing KD down/whatever and it was obviously a suicide note. KD freaked out and immediately got his ass over there, kicked down the door, and found Luci in his dad’s room with his dad’s gun to his head. I don’t think we ever settled on the details of the situation but it was traumatizing for both individuals to say the least.  KD was able to talk him out of it.

- That incident made them inseparable. Luci never had someone care for him like that, cry for him like that. KD had grown attached and close enough to consider him his best friends, the incident only solidify his want to make his best friend’s life better. It was a rough few months after that and KD was sworn to never tell his parents what happened.

- TBH that was about the worse of it, this was an high school AU and high school became a bit better for them in certain regards. KD got his braces off, got contacts, and had one helluva growth spurt going into HS. Luci went deep into a punk-emo phase his freshman year which killed his fashion, but was slowly becoming a bit more confident in himself. KD and his parents were able to help him a lot. Emotional support, practical life lessons, and food was always a given.

- Its a bit of an up and down throughout high school. KD gets into makeup, heels, dancing, and bisexuality and it causes a major strife with him and his dad who wanted a “real” son. The relationship went through major struggles and would take a couple years to really heal.

- Luci struggles a bit with drinking and deals drugs and booze to get his own spending money. He starts somewhat taking his school seriously, but even though he does work in class he doesnt always do homework or projects and whatnot. He has a habit of physically intimidating other students and occasionally tries to pick fights.

- The “casino gang” also have their own things going on. If a recall correctly, Wheezy was also in a neglectful house, Pip and Dot ( ??? and Dorothy) were twins from a wealthy well off family but were ignored and were terribly bratty, Piroeutta was just an quiet Russian outcast, Mango had 7 siblings and no space to himself and who was bullied for his large off-putting appearance, Chips was just loud, and i completely forgot what everyone else’s deal was. KD and Luci mainly hung out with Chips, Piro, Pip, and Dot. They were still pretty close to the others but those four were the only ones they regularly hung out with at lunch and outside of school.

- There are a couple things that could happen throughout high school. My personal fav i can remember is a particular angst with KD trying to get with another dude and Luci being Upset and lashing out at him at a party result and ugh that scenario was angsty but also turned very cute???

- Regardless, when they do get together they’re unstoppable tbh.

- and yes, the gang would readily throw hands with anyone who said shit. Barely any of them care about suspensions.

- I kinda forget a bit of stuff. I know misc. scenarios here and there both fluffy and angsty, but this post is already long enough lmao so feel free to hit up my ask box with any questions/comments. I dont really think Ill come back to this au?? If i do Im gonna edit a ton of stuff because looking back certain themes and scenarios seem borderline insensitive and/or poorly thought out. I did found a fic of this au on my phone with KD and Luci as adults tho and Im v tempted to rewrite some of it and finish it because it was good.

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 1

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read the prologue here.

Author’s note: YAYAY HERE WE GO IT ONLY TOOK ME HALF MY LIFETIME TO GET ENOUGH CHAPTERS STACKED UP!!! Please let me know what you think, and reblog!!!

The weather had warmed almost back to its usual summer temperatures. Melody felt like it was a sign. Harry was improving. Every day, even every minute, he was gaining something back. Just days ago he had cleared his throat and whispered something that Melody hadn’t been able to make out. It was a start.

She ran her thumb along the petal of a lily on the windowsill. Bea had sent them with her the day before. A sort of apology to Harry, she supposed, for her lack of kindness. But Bea hadn’t felt that it was appropriate for her to visit Harry, not yet. Not after the way she’d treated him since they met. And Melody couldn’t wait for them to right those wrongs, to see each other in the same light that she saw them.

“It’s beautiful out today,” Melody said as she turned toward Harry. “I wish it would stay.” She settled into her chair and wrapped her hand around Harry’s. “Do you want me to read?”

Harry squeezed a ‘yes' into her fingers, so she curled her legs up beneath her and pulled the book she’d been reading aloud from the table beside her. She’d started over the day after Harry had woken up, because despite what she’d wanted to believe, he hadn’t been able to hear her reading to him while he was unconscious. Or if he did hear her, he couldn’t remember it.

Melody flipped to her bookmarked page and licked her lips to begin the new chapter.

“Yeh changed your hair.”

Her arms jerked the book from her hands. It fell to the floor in front of her chair, cover bent back, as she sat forward again. Her eyes searched Harry’s face and settled on the sharp curve of his pleased smile. “You’re talking? You just talked.”

“I like it.”

Melody shook her head. Bea had dyed her hair for her, and had even re-dyed it since that first time. A shade darker than strawberry blonde, almost red, coppery.

“The first thing you wanna talk about is my hair?” she asked. Her voice was gentle. She didn’t really care what he wanted to talk about, she was just grateful that he was speaking at all. Even if it sounded like his vocal cords had spent years collecting dust in some abandoned attic. Like the air was being dragged over rough gravel.

“Well, it looks good.”

Melody pressed her palms to her face and took a shuddering breath. Harry’s face fell.

“Are yeh cryin’?”

Melody shook her head again and folded her hands in her lap. She let out a weak laugh. “No, I’m not crying. I could.” She stared at his curious face, now open and expectant like a child’s.

“Oh, God,” she muttered as realization dawned, finally climbing to her feet. “I need to get Dr. Florin.”

“No, she knows,” Harry said.

Melody paused, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“They’ve had some fancy speech doctor in here whenever yeh’re gone.”

She dropped back down into her chair and scratched at the cotton of Harry’s bedsheets. The only type of rehabilitation she had seen was the physician who came in once a day to test Harry’s movements, help him stretch out his limbs, begin rebuilding his weakened muscles. But they had been doing that stretching even when he wasn’t awake. It was nothing new to her.

“I don’t know whether I’m upset that no one informed me or if I’m just glad that you can talk back to me, now.”

“Can finally tell yeh to fuck off, right?”

Melody whipped her head upward, but Harry’s eyes were dancing, his lips twitching.

“That was a joke, Mel.”

She felt all of the muscles in her body coil and then relax. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed hearing her name on his lips, especially the shortened version.

“Mentioned your hair ‘cause it was the first thing I noticed,” Harry continued when she didn’t seem like she was amused by his attempt at a joke. “Have yeh also been…workin’ out?”

Melody did laugh at this. And to Harry’s horror, she also let out a stuttered sob. Tears dripped down her cheeks. She wiped at them quickly.

“Why’re yeh doin’ that?” he asked frantically. "What did I say?”

“No, no,” Melody rushed. “I just—” She slipped her fingers into her hair and rubbed at her overwhelmed head. “It’s been a while. For me. You’ve missed a lot. What’s the last thing you remember?”

Harry had taken the news of his coma surprisingly well. And he seemed to have no trouble believing that Colton had caused it. He didn’t even seem fazed when he heard that Colton still hadn’t been found, even seen. It was the time gap that seemed to cause him some trouble. Melody had watched the pulse on his monitor spike when he’d learned that nearly five months had passed. Five months. And Melody had yet to fill him in on what had happened in the meantime. Now that he could ask questions, she supposed it was time for those conversations.

Harry blinked lazily and then turned his eyes away from her. “Far as I knew, I went to sleep that Tuesday yeh saw me after trainin' and woke up here the next mornin’.”

“Jesus Christ,” Melody muttered. “Harry I could tell you I’m sorry a billion times over but I—”

“I don’ wanna talk about that. Let’s just say I forgave yeh, okay? Since Sean told me yeh basically moved in here.”

“Wait, did he know you were talking?”

“Yeah.”

“That dick.”

Harry chuckled, that deep rumble in his chest, and Melody thought she might cry again, so she worked herself through deep breaths.

“Yeh didn’ answer my question,” Harry said, perhaps to distract her. He didn’t want any more of the crying. He’d seen enough tears in the past couple of weeks, even if she tried to hide them, to blink them back. “Yeh’ve been workin’ out?”

“Yes,” Melody answered with a thin smile. “I can’t really see the difference.”

“There’s a difference,” Harry assured her. “Yeh look good.”

Melody felt herself blush like she was back in high school, like she hadn’t been in a relationship with Harry, like he hadn’t seen her completely naked on countless occasions. She pressed her fingers back to her heated cheeks. She wished that she could say the same about him, but Harry had grown thinner, paler. And even months of uninterrupted sleep couldn’t help how tired he looked. The skin around his eyes was sunken and bruised.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “You keep complimenting me.”

Harry chewed at his lower lip. He didn’t tell her that it was because he felt bad for her, like he’d put her through the ringer. She wouldn’t appreciate his pity. In fact, it didn’t even make sense in his own mind. He was the one who’d been shot in the head. By someone he shared blood with, at that. He’d missed five months of his own life and of hers. But he kept thinking about if the roles had been reversed, if Melody had been the one in this bed, if he was the one sitting there waiting for her to wake up. It didn’t matter what kind of arguments they'd had, the idea was still painful. And he didn’t want that thought running through his head. So he was trying to alleviate some of the trouble she’d probably been going through, to sop up some of the pain and fear that seemed to have spilled.

“Can yeh show me your workouts, then? What is it? Hot yoga?”

“Shut up,” Melody laughed.

“No, ‘m serious. I’d love to see that. Probably have to strip down to just your—”

“Harry, shut up!” she shouted, leaning forward to clap a hand over his mouth. It was amazing to her, how quickly they could just fall back into step. Five months of worrying whether she’d ever get the chance to fix things between them, and it all seemed like a thing of the past in a single day.

“Yeh know,” Harry said as she peeled her hand away, “just started talkin’ to yeh today and yeh’re already tellin’ me to shut up. Tha’s not a good sign.”

“Yeah, well maybe if you weren’t trying to be cheeky.”

Harry let his eyes fall closed as Melody’s fingers brushed back hair from his forehead. Her touch was gentle and he felt her skim the shell of his ear, the side of his head where his hair was shorter than the rest, where they’d shaved it down to the scalp five months earlier so Dr. Florin could assess the damage the bullet had caused and try to patch it up as best she could. He wondered how terrible the scars there looked, if they were hideous or impressive. He hadn’t been able to get himself to look in a mirror.

“Thought yeh liked when I’m cheeky."

“Oh, thank God.” Melody and Harry both turned their heads toward the open door when they heard Vanessa’s voice. “I’ve been blowing up like a balloon about to pop not telling you, Melody.”

“Are you joking?” Melody demanded, sitting back. "Did everyone know? Why are we keeping me out of the loop?”

“Doc thought it’d be better if you didn’t have to watch him struggle with his speech. And that was the skill that she thought he’d recover fastest, so surprise!”

“I hate surprises,” Melody muttered.

“Well, I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Vanessa continued as though nothing had happened. “It’s that time again, Harry.”

He hummed, not pleasantly, Melody noticed. Vanessa didn’t seem to care whether he was annoyed or not. She went about her business all the same, checking his vitals, asking him innocent questions about how he was feeling. He replied only in grunts and short words.

“You know, Doc also said Melody might be able to take you for a walk out in the garden if you’re feeling up for it today. It’s very nice out.”

Harry perked up almost immediately. His entire demeanor toward Vanessa shifted. It was visible in his face, in the way that his fingers curled at his sides.

“Okay.” She chuckled and finished scribbling stats onto the clipboard she held. “Well, your vitals are good, too. I’ll get a chair and a couple of nurses in here.”

Vanessa didn’t notice as she left the room with a smile of her own, but Melody watched the way that Harry seemed to deflate. He stared blankly across the room, his lips set stonily. He had been out of bed a few times, had even tried standing with assistance, but no one could keep him on his feet for long. She knew how much it frustrated him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently. “Did you change your mind?”

“No.” Harry shook his head. Melody waited for him to speak again but he didn’t, and she didn’t press. Everything about this felt eerily familiar.

They waited for the nurses to bring Harry a wheelchair, him patiently and her not so much. She’d wanted to get him outdoors for days, had been begging Dr. Florin. She thought it would do him some good and she was grateful for the opportunity that the nice weather and Harry’s surprisingly good condition had provided. Anything that might lift his mood and make his recovery less dismal.

The nurses arrived. Stocky, broad men. Despite the physical withering that had eaten away at him, Harry still had a good amount of muscle. It just needed to get used to constant movement again. But he wasn’t light and Melody couldn’t move him, no matter how much working out she’d been doing.

The men waited while Melody slid a pair of stretchy hospital pants onto Harry’s limp legs. He didn’t want these strangers touching him. In fact, he didn’t seem to like many of the medical workers very much at all. Not even Dr. Florin. He did like his physical therapist, though—a short but fit man who reminded Melody a lot of Sean in the way he spoke and joked.

Melody waited then while the nurses unhooked Harry from his monitor and scooped him out of the bed, one on each side, arms under his thighs and around his back. They lowered him slowly into the wheelchair that they'd brought, arranging his legs for him, and then they left the room.

Melody watched Harry’s eyes avoid her throughout the entirety of the process. She didn’t mention it. She could only guess how he felt, having to be moved around and carried. She hoped that when he wanted to discuss it, if he wanted to discuss it, she wouldn’t need to pry. Maybe this new dynamic that they were discovering would make opening up easier for him. She hoped for the best.

Melody kicked the chair’s lock out of place and wheeled Harry straight out into the hall without another word.

***

Outside in the garden, it was even nicer than Melody had expected from looking out the window. She and Harry had walked around in circles for almost a half hour before he’d asked her to stop.

“Just wanna sit in the sun,” he’d said.

Now they were just sitting. Melody, actually, was sprawled out on the grass before him, her eyes closed against the light. Harry was watching her, the way her hair shone differently than it did when it was blonde, with an almost pinkish hue. Even her eyebrows were this new shade. He noticed a scar at the edge of her left brow where no hair was growing. He didn’t think he’d ever seen it before, but he wasn’t sure if it was just a glitch in his memory. Everything was so different and strange. He didn’t ask her about the scar. He just let her lay there and relax, even if he couldn’t. Watching her relax calmed him.

“Are you staring at me?” Melody asked. She cracked an eye open, fanning her fingers out over the dewy grass beneath her.

Another wheelchair rolled past them. It was a middle-aged woman pushing a younger child who might’ve been about eight years old. The boy was hooked up to an oxygen tank and he was hairless and pale, and Harry had never wanted to be somewhere else so badly in his entire life.

“When do I get the fuck outta here?” he asked when the boy was out of hearing range.

Melody pushed herself up into a sitting position and tilted her head at him. She took a deep breath. The air smelled sweetly of the flowers that had survived the city’s brutal and dry August. The summer was Melody’s favorite time of the year and she was disappointed that Harry had missed so much of it—all of it, really. It would be seven or eight months until the weather started to warm again, now that fall was beginning to arrive.

“It’s probably gonna be a couple more weeks.” Melody lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the afternoon sunlight. "They just wanna make sure you’re really okay. And I’m sure they’re gonna start working you back on your feet pretty soon, okay?”

“This shit sucks.”

Melody let out a breathy laugh and rose onto her knees in front of him, nodding. “That’s why I thought you’d like being out here.”

Harry glanced around again. He would have liked it a whole lot better if he could have walked himself around the winding paths instead of having Melody pushing him around. It was beautiful, though. All of the bushes were well pruned and the flowers were arranged into bright beds of color. He wanted to be laying in the grass with Melody.

“Are you hungry?” she asked him. “We could go back in and get some food from the cafeteria. It’ll be like a date.”

“A date?” he asked. “In a hospital? Tha’s a bit of a downgrade from an art exhibit, yeah?”

“The food’s better,” she said, and when she leaned forward to kiss him, Harry was caught too off-guard to do anything but sit there. But he felt the familiarity of her lips and smelled her perfume, a scent that he had memorized long ago, and it finally felt like there was something that he could hold onto from before everything that he was missing.

He blinked at her when she rose to her feet. She blinked back and mumbled a quiet “sorry” before rounding his chair to lead him inside. They didn’t talk about the kiss or what it might mean while they ate stir-fry and chocolate cake together, and Melody left with just a quick squeeze of Harry’s hand late that evening.

Chapter 2