#on day ill be happy with how i draw scar ...that is not today

[furrbbyx]

The Orc’s Obsession: Epilogue

If you haven’t seen this part on A03 then you’re going to be very happy to see it now. 

I plan to continue this story with a new Yan: (Y/N)

heheheheeehhahahhahaahhohohohoo

Anyway. Get caught up with the ending details and get ready for a new chapter.

cw: crying, court proceedings, reeducation camp, nightmares, PTSD, murderous rage, maladaptive daydreaming, nightmares come true, stalker returns

approx 700 words

You clutch at your father and best friend weeping, with your head burried in Kalani's shoulder. Around the room is entirely dark except for the harshly lite dais and the dimly lite shadow figures standing in a row in front of the accused.

The figures have just pronounced Bagul's guilt and punishment in a resonating echoing mix of their five voices. Two police materialized and took Bagul to meet his fate and reassignment at the hands of the mysterious overlords that governed.

You shut your eyes tight hoping to avoid Bagul's glare even though he can hardly see through the solid darkness that hid the jury and audience.

The nightmare is finally over.

Much of your life is back to normal for months following the trial. You start to build back your trust in people but maybe your avoidant tendencies have grown stronger. It's hard to connect with others.

Happiness returns after you're officially sure your orc kidnapper hasn't bred you. You cry for days after that weight has lifted. You still have harsh scars from the ordeal. Any normal person would. Yet, there's a surreal quality to your memories that confuses you. Sometimes you wake up with your heart beating and you honestly can't tell if you were having a wet dream or a bad one.

Sometimes you ache and tremble when you think about the intense orgasms, and the heart-exploding dash for your life. Bagul's spraying blood is the backdrop to fantasies that send cold fear rippling up your spine. If Kalani hadn't come would you really have tried something more permanent to deal with the orc?

How would I hide the body?

Those intrusive thoughts are where you draw the line, shaking your head to clear the murderous daydreams.

Nearly a year passes and you readjust so well that you're feeling healthier and more in control of your anger and bloodlust everyday.

The season was changing from the hot long nights of summer to the unpredictably cool ones of fall. But today is bright and sunny and warm, the wind still smells like freshy mowed grass. You walk into your job. Even though the customers can really try your patience at the small drink shop you're feeling so good that no Karen could ruin it. Someone waves at you enthusiastically after a few steps inside. You don't know the person but you raise your hand awkwardly to return the greeting when a shiver rolls over your skin.

"Babe!" the waver, a tall thin woman with a blunt geometric haircut, crop, top and oversized jeans squeals in a babyish tone. She's prancing toward you when you hear someone behind you clear their throat and then step past you to hug the woman.

The bulky body  of the person behind you pushes you out of the way and you clutch your bag in terror.

"Hey sweetie" The orc lifts up the woman causing delighted yelps and nuzzles her before looking over and shooting you the most heated challenging glare you'd ever seen. You felt melted to the spot sweat tricking down your back. Everything about him throws you off from his bald head to a few new piercings and silver bands on his tusks. He's dressed in all black, bulky ill fitting clothing and his beard is tied in two braids down the side of his protruding jawline.

HOW! your mind cries out trying to come to terms with the possibilities, with this new reality. Bagul should be kilometers away being retaught how to function as a productive and rule-abiding member of society.  And he definitely shouldn't be anywhere near your job

"Oh my GOSH I'm so glad you're out! I missed you!"

"Heh" Bagul chuckles putting down the woman. He grasps her shoulder and they walk towards the exit.

"Without you to keep me sane I never woulda got out on good behavior."

You're still standing in the middle of the shop dazed and utterly overcome by flashes of your kidnapping. Your mind seems to short out and a strong sense of fight or flight wracks your body before it settles in the pit of your stomach as a fight response tinged with rage and desperation. The indigestion of it all feels like the worst heartburn.

"Why were you in there anyways?"

"Ah nothin too bad...." The voices float away but your confusion, anxiety, and raw fear stays. You're suspended as your mind spirals, trapped again like you were back at the cabin.

NO! Please!

NO! another voice inside you growls furiously. You snap with an over-loud maniacal laugh that turns shrill and hysterical.

I wont let him get to me, you vow and clench your fists tight enough to make them ache.

I'll kill him first

[headoverheelsforramsey]

Banana Bag

Book : Open Heart (set in book 3)

Pairing : Dr. Jackie Varma x Dr. Harper Emery

Summary : Chief residency is proving to be much harder than Jackie anticipated. Unable to open up to her friends, she finds solace in someone else.

Category : Angst

Warning : Excessive alcohol consumption and physical abuse

Rating : Teen (Just to be safe)

Word Count : 1152

Trope (s) : Hurt/comfort; pining; illness/injury

Prompt : #41 ~ "Let me see your scars..." from 101 Ways to Say I Love You prompt list.

A/N : Dearest Dom @utterlyinevitable sent me this request and I was so excited to write it down. Thank you so much for sending it my way, I hope you like it.

A/N 2 : PB has given us literally zero background on Jackie, and I hate them for it so I have taken certain liberties while writing this fic. So forgive me if it feels incorrect. Anyways, happy reading! ☺️💖

It had been a long week. Actually scratch that, it had been a long couple of weeks. The exhaustion of chief resident responsibilities was weighing down on Jackie's shoulders.

Happy to finally get a night off, Jackie made her way to Donahue's, sat down on a barstool and signaled Reggie for a tequila on the rocks. All she wanted to do was drink to her heart's content and crash back at her apartment.

One too many drinks, embarrassing karaoke and some awkward flirting later Jackie was finally ready to call it a day when a news playing silently from a small television at the bar caught her attention.

"Car crash at Cambridge Street and Court Street crossing takes terrible shape with atleast five deaths and many serious injuries."

Jackie looks up to the screen and snatches the remote from another customer to increase the volume.

"The first responders from Bloom Edenbrook Hospital are already at the scene…"

The rest of the news reporter's words fades away in her throbbing head. The very unwelcoming beep of her pager made her curse.

"911" it said, which meant it doesn't matter if you have been doing fifteen to twenty hour shifts, mountains of paperwork and sleeping in the on-call room for the last month you have to be at the hospital right now.

Jackie ran a hand through her face and hair, all she wanted was one, one peaceful evening without those idiotic interns breathing down her neck, but it was apparantly too much to ask.

With another beep from her pager, Jackie stood up and dragged her very drunk body out of Donahue's.

The hospital was in a mess. The patients hadn't arrived yet but the lack of direction and authority made the interns and her fellow residents erratic. She went into the trauma room picking up protective gear on the way.

"Alright, listen up everybody," she clapped her hands together, drawing everybody's attention.

"Jackie, are you drunk?" Meera asked, concerned.

"Big time," she said, rubbing exhaustion off her eyes. "Okay, so this is how we are gonna work : interns, divide yourselves into groups of three and work one patient together. Residents will be responsible for two such groups and overlook their working. Page the respective attendings whenever necessary. This is a crisis situation. We need to save as many lives as we can, so work fast but keep your heads cool," Jackie is interrupted by the familiau blaring sound of the ambulance. "Now move, move, move!" all doctors scurried towards the emergency exit. Jackie stops to catch her breath, her head spinning.

"Impressive work, Dr. Varma," Naveen comes to stand beside her.

"Thank you sir," Jackie manages to say.

"You can't treat patients in this condition."

"I am so sorry sir, I wasn't on-call today and I had just finished…"

"You don't need to explain yourself," Naveen smiled. "What you do in your personal time is none of our business. But these patients are our responsibility and I can't allow you to treat them."

"But I can't go home! I can't leave everyone in the middle of a crisis."

"Dr. Varma," Naveen placed his hand on her shoulder, "go get yourself a banana bag IV, get some rest and come back when you feel better. I promise, I'll personally try to take up your role."

Jackie nodded. She helped Naveen tie his surgical gown and looked over the chaotic ER one last time before making her way out.

Harper had just stopped a brain bleed and performed a cookie craniotomy on two trauma patients in the past hour. She was in desperate need of caffeine, and the coffee machine in the attendings' lounge was broken.

She walked into the residents lounge to find Jackie sitting under a dim light and cursing under her breath. Surprised and curious, Harper silently sneaked up behind Jackie and silently watched as she struggled to place the needle on her arm.

"Do you have a death wish?" she chuckled sitting down beside her.

"You startled me," Jackie hiccuped.

"Here, let me," Harper said, trying to take the needle from her.

"No!" Jackie said as if someone was trying to take away candy from a kid. "I can do this! I am a doctor, I am the chief resident, I can place my own IV."

"I know, you can, Dr. Varma, but sometimes it's good to ask for help," Harper smiled.

This time Jackie didn't protest and Harper successfully obtained the IV needle. She looked at Jackie's arm and noticed a dozen scar marks across her arm. Harper looked at Jackie confused. Jackie lets out a sigh turning away from her, "see, I told you I can do it…"

"No, let me see your scars… please?"

Jackie turned around again, putting her arm out for Harper.

"Growing up in an Indian family wasn't easy," she sighed. "You get anything less than A and you get these as gifts," she pointed to the scars. "Then there was this stupid, stupid boy, in college, with whom I was supposedly in love with," she rolled her eyes, "I forgot to love my body after the break up and gifted myself a few more of these."

"Then one day, I had to be brought into the ER, because apparently the blade went in too far. They called in social service and encouraged me to go into therapy, that's when I made up my mind to go into medicine."

"Oh, Jackie," Harper gave her an empathetic look. "Fuck did I overshare?" Jackie said nervously.

"Don't worry it's just me here," Harper said, putting on the last bandaid. "And I don't think you'll remember this tomorrow."

"Can I share something else then?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"I can't do this! This chief residency is killing me, I can't say it out loud, I really want this position, but also it's so damn tough!" Jackie said, hiding her head in her arms.

"Listen to me, you can do this, I believe in you," Harper said, taking her hand in hers. "Look at how far you have come. College Jackie is so fucking proud of you and so am I."

Jackie looks up to her eyes and leans into her touch.

"Strong women like us always find a way. So hang in there tight, and don't forget to ask for help when you need it," Harper's gaze shifts to her lips, suddenly aware of how close they were sitting.

Jackie leans in hoping to meet her halfway when the same annoying beeping of a pager makes both of them spring apart.

"Ohh, that's me," Harper said, "looks like someone's brain needs fixing again," she laughs nervously. "I'll see you around, Dr. Varma?"

Jackie nods. Harper crosses the room and was about to walk out of it when, "Dr. Emery," Jackie called, "thank you."

Harper turned, "my pleasure," she replied with a grin and closed the door behind her.

Thank you so much if you have read till here, it means the world to me. Catch you on the next one, till then sending love and hugs your way! ❤️

A/N : Okay okay okay hear me out, even I don't like imaging our badass Jackie crying over and harming herself for a boy. But I like to feel like there was a soft Jackie before this one which was unfortunately traumatized by an evil spawn of a man. Again I am open to criticism but with very little to work with (courtesy PB) I took certain liberties, sorry.

A/N 2 : Just wanted to say that I received a lot of requests from the prompt list and I am so grateful for that. I'll try to post one prompt each week but real life is a bitch and will obviously give me all sorts of problems hence delaying the process so please bear with me. 🥺 That being said if y'all still want to send in requests feel free to do so, but do check out this post to avoid repetion, thank you. 💜

Taglist : @starrystarrytrouble @mm2305 @charisworld @choicesfanaf @potionsprefect @genevievemd  @shanzay44 @little-flowers-on-heaven @schnitzelbutterfingers  @coffeeheartaddict  @gryffindordaughterofathena @chemist-ana @adiehardfan-deactivated20211021 @custaroonie @ireneadlerisseggsy @takemyopenheart @natureblooms24 @mainstreetreader @lawyerlies @a-crepusculo @quixoticdreamer16 @starryeyedrookie @barbean @thebluestonedpendant @kit-rookie-princess @wanderingamongthewildflowers

+ @choicesficwriterscreations & @openheartfanfics

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed. 💜

[engie-ivy]

I wrote this fic for the Wolfstar Comfort Mini-Fest, organized by @swottypotter, because I thought it was such a lovely idea😊

(also on AO3 as part of a series of one-shot crush confessions)

19/09: an anniversary

Summary:

Getting older can be a fearful experience, but when you're a werewolf, it's just a tad worse. There's only so many excruciating transformations one's body can undergo before it can take no more. For Remus, the idea of celebrating the day of being another year closer to that inevitable moment is inconceivable. However, his friends teach him that instead of simply having lived another year, his life contains many other anniversaries he could be celebrating: having been part of a close group of friends for another year, having had company during the full moon for another year, and... having a certain friend be in love with him for another year?

Moments in time

Remus Lupin does not celebrate his birthday. Doesn’t like it. Really doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s not a case of modesty, like ‘he just doesn’t want to be the center of attention’, or even a case of bad experiences, like ‘if we can just show him how fun it can be’. No, he has made it clear to the other three Marauders that it’s no use even trying. If they throw him a birthday party, he won’t attend. If they buy him birthday gifts, he won’t accept.

It’s not that he hates birthdays as a principle. No, he’d loved it when they snuck into the kitchens and stuffed themselves with sweets for Peter’s birthday, he’d loved it when they stayed up all night and drank Butterbeer and even a bottle of Firewhiskey that they managed to smuggle in for James’s birthday, and he loved it when they had a sleep-over in the Shrieking Shack for Sirius’s birthday. It’s really his own birthday that he doesn’t like.

You see, Remus Lupin is a werewolf, and while he’s now more comfortable with that fact than he’s ever been, with being able to attend school, having people in his life that love and accept him even with knowing the truth, and having friends who became Animagii so he doesn’t have to be alone during the full moon anymore, there are just some things that come with his condition that cannot be changed. The illness on the days preceding and following the full moon, the excruciating pain that the transformations bring, and, probably worst of all, the fact that werewolves age prematurely.

Werewolves do not have a high life expectancy. There’s only so much strain one’s body can endure before it can’t take no more. Remus often reads in textbooks that werewolves don’t get old, but that’s wrong phrasing: werewolves do get old, they just get old really fast. While his friends will still be vital and brimming with energy, Remus’s bones will become fragile and his muscles stiff with constant aching due to the tearing apart and snapping back together necessary for the monthly transformations, his recovery after each full moon will become slower until he’ll never fully recover anymore, he’ll start having trouble walking and eventually moving altogether, his hair will become grey and his skin will become worn and littered with scars, making him look old beyond his years.

It’s bad enough that each year there’s a day to remind him that he’s another year closer to that inescapable faith, so why in Merlin’s name would he want to actually celebrate that day?

Remus never fully explained, so he’s not sure to what extent the other Marauders really understand what getting older means to him, but they can tell that it holds a lot of pain for Remus, and that it’s not something they can fix for him, so they respect his wishes. On the day itself they try their hardest not to give a single indication they’re aware it’s Remus’s birthday. The only way Remus can tell that they do know, is by how they go out of their way to make sure no one else dares to mention his birthday in his vicinity. This may seem weird or even mean to outsiders, but to Remus, it’s the best possible thing they could do.

That’s part of the reason why Remus is utterly confused when he enters their dorm on September 4th and finds Sirius, James and Peter sitting on pillows on the floor surrounded by drinks and candy, and a pile of gifts in their midst.

“Surprise!” They yell in unison the moment Remus opens the door.

Another reason for Remus’s confusion is that it’s nowhere near his birthday.

“What’s this?” He asks carefully.

Sirius presses a card in his hand. The front of the card shows a doodle of four boys sitting at the Gryffindor table. A small boy with peaky hair, a boy whose hair is pointing in all directions, a dark-haired boy with a goofy grin, and a curly-haired boy with large eyes, all wearing red-and-gold colours.

The doodle is clearly drawn by Sirius. Sirius is actually a very talented artist and his drawings are great, though he only ever shows his doodles to his friends. Remus loves the cute and funny doodles, but he wishes Sirius would also show them his more serious drawings sometimes. Remus has only ever caught a glimpse of his work on moments Sirius didn’t notice Remus’s presence in time while drawing, but what he saw was amazing.

Remus opens the card and reads the message on inside.

Hi Moony!

Happy 6-year anniversary of the day we officially became friends with you!

We love you!

Wormtail, Padfoot & Prongs

Remus looks up from the card to see Sirius staring at him with the same goofy grin as the doodled boy on the card, but there’s also an unfamiliar expression in his eyes, and he’s toying with a strand of his hair.

Remus realises that he’s nervous. Afraid that Remus will see it as a trick to give him a kind-of-birthday party anyway, and become upset. And of course it is an attempt to make up for lost birthday celebrations, Remus knows that, but it’s a good attempt. It’s not just celebrating a certain amount of years from his life have gone by, it’s celebrating the years they’ve been friends. Making actual friends who love him and who he loves, and keeping them for all that time, that’s something Remus did with his life, something he accomplished, something no one can ever take away from him. It somehow makes the eventual length of his life matter less. It’s celebrating the quality, not the quantity.

A smile spreads across Remus’s face, and he can immediately see the relief on his friends’ faces. “I love it,” he says.

And honestly, how could he not love something that results in Sirius throwing his arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his cheek?

Remus tries to ignore the fluttering of his heart. They’re celebrating five years of friendship, for Godric’s sake. Being friends with someone as loving, bright and cheerful as Sirius is already more than he could have ever asked for. Wanting more, even dreaming of more, would be pushing his luck. See? His brain knows all this, but apparently his heart hasn’t gotten the message.

James gets him out of his frenzy by taking a gift from the pile. “Alright! Lets see who the first gift is for!”

“You got gifts for everyone?” Remus asks curiously.

“Why, of course, Moony!” James exclaims. “Managing to keep one of the greatest persons ever as our friend is really a gift-worthy accomplishment for us! Really something we should be celebrating and congratulating each other on.”

Sirius nudges Remus playfully. “You can see your presents as a reward for having put up with us for so long.”

Remus chuckles. He definitely doesn’t need a reward for one of the greatest things that has ever happened to him, but he’s not gonna say no to the tea, mug and book that lie before him with his name written on them either.

The next surprise comes halfway through October, during their second trip to Hogsmeade of that year. Remus is sitting at the Three Broomsticks with Peter, waiting for James and Sirius to come back with their Butterbeers.

However, suddenly Sirius places a large mug filled with decadent chocolate milk in front of Remus, complete with whipped cream and a chocolate biscuit on top and sprinkled with chocolate chips. At the same time James presses another card in his hands. Remus immediately laughs at the doodle of him in front of Honeydukes, holding a large stack of chocolate in his arms. Wondering what his friends came up with this time, he opens the card.

Moons,

Happy 4-year anniversary of your very first trip to Hogsmeade with us! (Ah, the day Moony discovered Honeydukes...)

Many trips (legal and less-legal) have followed and will follow since!

Lots of love,

Wormy, Pads, and Prongsie

Remus actually wasn’t able to join them on the first weekend they had been allowed to go, as it had been a full moon the night before. Only the next weekend a Hogsmeade trip was planned, they were able to go with the four of them, today apparently four years ago.

The following hour Remus spends reminiscing all his trips to Hogsmeade with his friends. The one when James and Sirius had hidden in the Shrieking Shack and fired hexes at passers-by to convince everyone the Shack is cursed, the one when James tried to secretly follow Lily around to find out what to buy for her birthday and she ended up throwing Butterbeer in his face, the one when Remus was acting cranky because his favourite chocolate was sold out, only to find out Sirius had secretly bought the last bars for him as a surprise, or the one when James actually managed to get a date with Lily, and Peter had asked Mary McDonald, so Remus and Sirius went together (and Remus had to actively tell himself that it was not a date for the entire day, though he doesn’t discuss that last bit with his friends).

Before they leave, the other three Marauders want Remus to pick out all the chocolate he loves most from Honeydukes as his anniversary gift, but Remus refuses, not wanting to be selfish by letting his friends buy him his treats. Back in their dorm, however, it isn’t long before a bag filled with Honeydukes’ finest just mysteriously appears on Remus’s bed.

It isn’t until January, right at the start of the new year, Remus is surprised one again. He steps into the kitchens, where the others had told him to come to prepare for a prank, and finds his friends sitting at a table around a huge chocolate cake.

“Moony!” Peter calls out, while James and Sirius shoot confetti from their wands.

“What’s this?” Remus asks, grinning while he’s shaking the confetti out of his hair. This time he’s more excited than nervous.

Peter hands him the card. Remus chuckles as he sees the little deer with a rat hanging from his antlers, closely followed by a wolf and a dog walking side-by-side, doodled on the front. He opens the card, fully prepared for another odd anniversary his friends managed to come up with, but not prepared in the least for the wave of emotion that washes over him.

Dear Moony,

Happy 2-year anniversary of the day from which you’ll never again have to spend another full moon on your own!

Love, your animalistic friends,

Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

Remus reads the card a couple more times, until his eyes start tearing up and his vision becomes blurry.

The short message is not only a reminder of what his friends have done for him, how they’ve gone and made an aspect of Remus’s life immeasurably better, an aspect Remus had always believed to never get any better.

And then the words ‘never again’, meaning that his friends will continue to help him once they’ve left school, meaning that it doesn’t end when school does, meaning that his friends will always be there for him.

Remus doesn’t even realise he’s crying until two arms wrap around him and Sirius pulls him into a tight hug. His head resting on Sirius’s chest and Sirius soothing him: exactly how he’s been waking up after the full moon for the last two years, and how he’ll be waking up after the full moon for the years to come.

At the end of March, it’s promising to become the first soft spring day after the winter, though the nights still have a chill in the air.

The Marauders are sitting on a blanket in the grass, wrapped in sweaters watching the sun slowly rise over the lake. They’d snuck out in the middle of the night through one of their secret passageways, and spent the rest of the night drinking, talking, star gazing, and now watching the sunrise.

“Cheers!” They cluck their mugs filled with hot mead together in the golden light of the rising sun. “To beautiful spring days and good times!”

“And to Moony,” Sirius adds. “On this special day.”

Remus laughs. “I should have known!” Though he feels this night has already been special enough.

Though he immediately starts reading the card, with a pretty doodle of the castle on the front.

To Messr. Moony,

Happy 2-year anniversary of the day you discovered the last secret passageway and finished the Marauders’ Map!

We solemnly swear to always remain up to no good!

There’s always more mischief to manage,

Yours sincerely,

The Messrs. Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs

Remus fondly shakes his head. The season is changing, life at Hogwarts is slowly coming to an end, but the Marauders’ days of mischief making are not ending just yet.

On the 17th of May, Remus is sitting at a table in the common room, surrounded by books, parchment, quills and ink. He’s waiting on Lily. He has a Potions essay due, and horrible in potions as Remus is, he really needs a good grade. Luckily, Lily has agreed to help him, as she’s the absolute best in Potions. Lily is not great because professor Slughorn adores her, professor Slughorn adores her because she’s great.

Remus sees Lily step through the portrait hall carrying a large pile of books, and immediately jumps to his feet to help her carry the load.

However, when they return to Remus’s spot, a beautifully wrapped gift is placed on top of his parchment.

“They came up with another date?” Remus mumbles, slightly embarrassed, but Lily just looks excited. Word has gotten around that the Marauders have been throwing Remus all kinds of parties for all kinds of reasons and everyone just loves it.

“Open it, open it!” Lily claps her hands and Remus tears the wrapping paper off.

Lily sucks in her breath. “Oh!”

Remus himself is unable to form any words as he’s holding up a frame. All he can do is stare wide-eyed at the framed drawing in his hands.

It’s definitely Sirius’s work. Not a doodle this time, but a completely finished, serious artwork. Remus recognizes himself in the drawing, curled up in an armchair, one hand holding a book, and the other holding a mug with steam circling upwards. The scene is seemingly illuminated by soft sunlight falling through a window on Remus’s left, giving his eyes and hair a slightly golden glow. The drawing is somehow comforting, in his ability to capture such a calm, serene moment. Though Remus thinks the boy in the drawing must look much more beautiful than he ever has, he has no problem recognizing himself, as the composure, radiance and expression are so typically his, that it makes him feel strangely vulnerable that someone has looked at him and seen him, really seen him.

“It’s beautiful,” Lily whispers.

The only thing written on the drawing is a date scribbled in the bottom right corner: 17/05/1977. Exactly one year earlier. Remus’s heart is thumping as he picks up and reads the small note that came with the gift.

Dearest Moony,

Happy 1-year anniversary of the day I fell in love with you.

Yours, now and always,

Padfoot

Remus can hardly breath. The more he reads the words, the more his brain stops functioning. He looks at Lily, who has been reading over his shoulder, with a pleading look.

“Lily, what do I do?” He asks desperately.

“Well,” Lily says uncertain. “I’m sure if you tell him you care for him, but see him as just a friend, he’ll-”

“Why in Merlin’s name would I want to say that?” Remus stares at her like she has grown two heads. “Why would I want to turn him down?”

“You looked so panicked!” Lily defends herself. “Why in Merlin’s name are you even asking my advice if you feel the same way? Just go find that boy and bloody snog the living daylights out of him! Merlin, Remus, it’s not Advanced Potions!”

Finding Sirius and snogging him sounds scary, risky, dangerous, and absolutely wonderful, so Remus decides to embrace his Gryffindor courage and go for it.

He barely nods at Lily before dashing away. He bumps into Peter while rushing through the common room.

“Oi, Moony! I just wanted to ask you, are you-”

“Sorry, Wormtail, gotta run! I have to go and snog Padfoot!”

He hears Peter’s voice echo through the room as he climbs through the portrait hole. “Yeeeeesssss!”

In the corridor, he passes James.

“Moony…”

“Sorry, Prongs, no time!”

“He’s up in the Owlery!” James calls after him. “I thought you might like to know you’re going the wrong way.”

Remus immediately turns around and runs in the other direction. He hears James mumble when he passes him again.

“About bloody time.”

Remus’s courage wavers a bit as he steps into the Owlery. Sirius is standing with his hands resting on the ledge, and he’s looking out over the Hogwarts grounds. His pale skin, his grey eyes reflecting the sky, his long hair with strands blowing in his face. Surely there has to be some sort of misunderstanding. Surely a boy this beautiful can’t possibly have feelings for someone like Remus.

But then Sirius turns around to look at him, and Remus can clearly see the love and affection, mingled with fear and uncertainty, in his eyes.

“The twenty-third of September,” Remus blurts out.

Sirius looks at him questioningly.

“That’s my date,” Remus clarifies.

There’s hope in those eyes now. “As in the date of your one-year anniversary of having feelings… for me?” Sirius asks tentatively.

Remus shakes his head, and Sirius drops his gaze, looking embarrassed. “Two years,” Remus quickly clarifies.

Sirius looks up at him again, his eyes now the way Remus likes them best: sparkling.

“Really, Moony?” There’s unconcealed happiness and relief in his voice. “Two whole years and you never said anything?”

Remus huffs. “It’s not an easy thing to say! You know that, took you a year as well.”

“That’s still twice as fast,” Sirius teases.

Remus sighs in defeat. “You’re right. And there’s no way I can give you something so special and amazing as you’ve given me today.”

“You can forget about your date anyway,” Sirius says.

Remus raises his eyebrows. “How so?”

Sirius reaches out his hand towards Remus. “I was rather hoping we could share this date? As the date we officially became a couple?”

Remus hearts stops for a moment, but then he knows just what to do.

He takes the hand Sirius is offering, and in a moment of bravery pulls him close, so that they’re standing chest to chest.

Remus tugs a strand of hair falling over Sirius’s face behind his ear. “I would love to.”

[ruthoakenshield]

Thorin’s Anniversary Gift

You wake to gentle kisses on your neck and the sound of little pitter pattering feet and the giggles of your twin three year old daughters entering your room.

You groan and keep your eyes closed pretending to be asleep. Thorin chuckles, and you hear him grunt in pain as your daughter most likely got him near the groin...again, as she climbed up onto your bed and started trying to wake the two of you up.

“Mamad, hungweeee!” she said as she bounced on the bed next to you. “Yeah, Mamad, Bweakfas!!!!!” your other daughter squealed as you both heard her tummy growl.

Thorin chuckled and told them to go in the sitting room and play. That breakfast will be served soon.

You felt the bed bounce as your daughters vaulted themselves to the floor and ran out of the room.

Thorin pulled the pillow off your face that you were hiding under and kissed your cheek. “You ok, Love?” he asked as he caressed your side. His expression on his face showing concern.

“Don’t feel well.” you mumbled. “Just need to sleep. Can Dis or your nephews watch the girls today so I can sleep?” you ask. He frowns and feels your forehead. It feels fine. He looks at your sleep tousled head and chuckles and peppers your back and shoulder with more kisses. “I will take the girls to get breakfast and then bring them to Dis’.” he tells you as you roll over to face him.

He grins when he sees your exposed breast and leans down to give it some attention. He caresses it with his tongue, drawing moans from you and you reach up and entwine your fingers in his dark mane that is streaked with more silver strands, giving it a gentle tug. He give you a low growl, sending shivers through your body when he starts sucking your nipple, creating a pull deep inside you. After a few minutes of this he sits up and caresses your face when he hears the girls squeal, “Auntie!!!!”

“Shall I have Oin come check on you later this morning?” he asks. You nod. “Okay, Love. I will stop by the Healing Halls and ask him to do so. I will come and check on you when my meetings are finished.” he tells you and kisses your cheek. Then he gets up and goes to get your daughters ready for breakfast and spending the day with their Auntie and Cousins.

You roll over, cover yourself back up and go back to sleep.

Later in the morning you wake to the sound of a gentle knocking on your bedroom door. “Who is it?” you ask sleepily.

“It is Oin, my Queen. Thorin said you were not feeling well and asked me to check on you.” he replied.

“Come in Oin.” you tell him as you roll onto your back and cover your chest.

He enters and walks over to your side of the enormous bed. He sets his bag on the foot end of the bed and comes over to feel your forehead. “What seems to be troubling you, My Lady? You have no fever.” he asks.

You tell him you have not been sleeping well, have been rather moody, and just feel exhausted. He hums for a moment. “Well I know you have said your monthly cycles are irregular, so we can’t use that to say for sure whether or not it may be a pregnancy. Since you have no fever, i doubt it is an illness. Let me check you just to make sure you are not pregnant and then we will go from there. Hmmm?” he suggests.

You sigh and nod. He gives you an examination and when he is finished he is smiling. “Well, my Queen, it looks like you are indeed expecting another little pebble to add to your brood! Congratulations!” he says happily.

You look at him in disbelief. “What? How can I be pregnant when it’s only been three years since the girls were born? You ask surprised.

Oin chuckles. “Though it is rare, it is not unheard of for a fertile dwarrowdam to become pregnant so soon after giving birth, my dear. You are just one of those dwarrowdams who seem to easily become pregnant, which I’m sure will make Thorin very happy as he has always wanted a sizeable brood of little ones.” he chuckles.

“Don’t worry, my dear. I will make sure you and the babe stay healthy.” he assures you. “Now just enjoy the day free of your little pebbles and get some rest. Thorin said he will come see you after his meetings finish this afternoon. I will send Bombur with lunch for you after a while.” he tells you as you snuggle back down into the warm comforter. “Oin, do not say anything to anyone about this. I want to surprise Thorin with it.” you tell him. “As my Queen wishes.” he says with a bow and a wink.

“Thank You Oin.” you tell him. He smiles and pats your shoulder. “Happy anniversary, my Queen!” he tells you with a grin, then he grabs his bag and takes his leave, closing the door behind him.

You fall back asleep and wake when Bombur knocks and brings you lunch. You eat and then go back to sleep.

Later that afternoon, Thorin enters the bedchamber and finds you on your side cuddling a body pillow. Your arms and legs wrapped around it. The silk sheets thrown off and your body exposed to him. He grins and begins to strip off his clothes quietly.

He comes over to his night stand and grabs the bottle of strawberry flavored lube out and squirts a little into his hand after he crawls up into the bed. He coats his hard member and then snuggles against your back, gently slipping himself into your warm entrance. You moan quietly but don’t wake. He realizes you are in a very deep sleep and he grins.

As he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you, he reaches around your chest to find your breast with the hand he had put the lube on. He begins to use the remaining lube to massage your breasts and you let out another groan of pleasure and roll over onto his chest, still asleep as he nuzzles your peppermint scented hair and kisses your neck.

He smirks and continues his ministrations. Nibbling your shoulder and neck, giving you gentle kisses and love nips, massaging your breasts, sucking on them and your now strawberry flavored nipples. He reaches down between your legs and gently rubs your pearl as he continues to slowly move in and out of you with his hard member, enjoying the feeling of you surrounding him with your warmth and wetness.

He is in no hurry to come, he just wants to enjoy this time alone with you, giving you pleasures and wake you with this intimacy and the love he has for you.

You gradually waken in his arms as you lean on his chest. Your husbands ministrations rousing you from deep slumber and you open your eyes and give him a sleepy grin. “Hello, my Ghivashel.” he whispers in your ear and then kisses your cheek. “Did Oin come to see you?” he asks quietly.

“Mmmhmm.” you mumble sleepily and moan as he plays with your clit.

He grins. “And what did Oin say. Why do you not feel well?” he asks in a low sensuous voice.

“He said i am fine and that I just needed some extra rest.” you mumble, struggling to form a coherent thoughts while Thorin worships your body with his ministrations.

“Then may I join you while you rest?” he asks as he reaches back up and caresses your lips with his fingers. You open your mouth and suck on his fingers, tasting yourself and the strawberry lube. “mmmmmmm” you moan and he thrusts become a little more demanding.

He grins and worships your back and sides of your body for a while longer. Tracing the battle scars on your back with his tongue and lips, and caressing your sides as well as your stretch marks on your hips and rear with his hands.

After a while, he pulls out and moves you onto your back. He lays down on top of you again and begins to worship the front half of you as he ever so slowly enters your warm cave.

He watches with delight as you moan and writhe under his ministrations and your eyes roll back in your head and you arch up to him as he ever so slowly enters and exits your cave repeatedly.

“Ooooohhh Thorinnnnn!” you moan out in extacy. He gives you a devilish grin and begins to pick up the pace as he nips at your chest and nipples. You groan again and he continues to worship your body.

He feels your body tightening and he feels the tightening in his groin. He wraps his arms around you tightly and his thrusts become more erratic and feverish. Finally he feels you orgasm and your muscles clamp down on him, pulling him over the edge and into his own orgasm and you both cry out each other’s names as you come hard, panting and gasping for air.

He collapses onto your chest and you both are panting and chests are heaving. Once he comes down from the post orgasmic high, he tells you “Happy Anniversary, my Love.” and he kisses your chest as he rests his head there over your heart.

You sigh contentedly, knowing your secret will please him.

“I have a present for you too, My Love.” you say happily. He looks up at your face and then looks around. “Where is it, Ghivashel?” he asks.

“You are laying on top of it.” you giggle. “Oin informed me this afternoon that i have not been feeling well because we are to have more pebbles in our brood.” you inform him grinning.

He pushes himself up for a moment, looking at you not comprehending what you told him. You laugh and he moves off of you to lay at your side with a confused look on his face.

You take his large, warm hand and place it on your lower belly and pat it. He looks down at it and you see the light bulb finally go on. He looks back up at you in disbelief, then you see it flit to amazement and joy. “More pebbles?” he asks wide-eyed. You grin and nod.

His huge sapphire eyes get glassy as he looks from your face to your belly and back to your face. He leans down and nuzzles your neck and holds you close. “Thank you, Ghivashel” he tells you as he peppers your face, neck and chest with more kisses. “I couldn’t ask for a better gift.” he tells you with glassy sapphire eyes that now sparkle with joy.

“Happy Anniversary, My King.” you tell him as he begins to make slow, passionate love to you for the rest of the evening in celebration of the news of having more dwarflings with you.

@fizzyxcustard​ @rachel1959 @quenofmankind @thorinthehottotty​ @dumbassunderthemountain​ @deepestfirefun​

[philomathhh9]

A Stroll Down Memory Lane

Philomath, I just took a stroll down memory lane. A very cliché thing to say, I know. It was a long stroll though; the sun set and dawned upon my path countless of times and I kept walking. Swept away in a journey of nostalgia and emotions of comfort, I soon was struck by a wave of anger and resentment.

  All began when I chose to check my phone as I dressed to leave home to study for a big upcoming exam. A friend and colleague of mine had messaged me his location in Riyadh; his family recently moved there. We went back and forth and chatted about how our homes where a mere ten minute walk apart and that we could meet up once we visited our families in winter. It then hit me. “Home” was no longer that small cozy place in Saudi Arabia; the little apartment that I spent seventeen years of my life in. The place I had just called Home in front of my friend was nothing but a figment of my past - a dream I dreamt for just a little over a decade and a half. Home in the present is this place in Amman in which I currently take residence in with my sister, my lovely cat Leta, and my sweet departed cat-angel Valenta, who has been buried in our garden since May when illness rode her fate.

  I am content with the present day. I really am. However, calling my parents’ place in Saudi Home swung me back to the moments, days, months, and years of my being that I spent in innocence. I ran the Maps application and I checked every part of what used to be my life. I saw the school I spent the whole of my childhood in. I saw the park and the malls I used to go to on weekends with my mother. I saw the restaurant that my father enjoyed dining in on Fridays and I even saw the school I spent my high school years in. I then paused. Memories of my high school senior year washed up from an ocean I thought I had left behind. I spent it the way I spent the entirety of my days till then: dreaming, reading, and exploring the wonders of what life is. Curious is what I was. Not the kind of curious that is forced and involves taking a risk and leave familiar surroundings because they feel threatening and unsafe, but the type of curious that sticks to you in innocence while thriving in your provided environment- you just wonder if the outside is just as splendid.

  I wanted to become a lawyer at some point in high school and that brought me to read my personal statement that I had sent to universities in the UK for an undergraduate law degree. In front of me was a live example of what I used to be: a dreamer. Today, I believe that ignorance and innocence are synonymous from a certain perspective, despite being two very different words. The saying “Ignorance is bliss” is popular because of that very reason. Not knowing and staying in my naivete brought me happiness. Soon, the clock started to tick and the time came where being curious was not a thought to think of, but a thought to I had to execute. I had to figure out what was to become of me. My dreams of becoming a lawyer leaped away as the reality of its demanding financing settled. This marks strike one against young Philomath.

  Now, I am in the path of becoming a doctor; something I had chosen and kept as a back up plan in case the launch of my time with law failed. I know I did not choose it for the prestige of it. The human body and the world within infatuated me just as much. To reiterate, I am content with who I am and what I am doing today. It just so happened that the start of my new life as a meds student yanked my innocence away from me as I cried for and held on to it for dear life. My parents’ conditioning brought me to block away all my triggers and flaws by daydreaming and spending my time with thoughts of idealism. Now that my little daydreaming session of seventeen years had been brought to a screeching halt, I was shocked with what I found down here. As I recalled this and what followed today, I felt nothing but a strange mix of anger, resentment, disembodiment, and disbelief of what I had been and put others through. My surroundings in my first year of medicine were not only less than ideal, but straight up parasitic and gnawed at my little body day by day. The gnawing manifested physically; I lost a good fifth to fourth of my weight as depression and maladjustment took over me. Now that my bubble of idealism was popped, I was subjected to the thorns I harbored all along and had no idea what to do with them other than project them on others, both good and horrible people alike. That marked strike two for young philomath.

  Personal boundaries were alien things to me. Unfortunately, that me twinkle in the eyes of whom I know now to be a narcissistic sociopath. During the timeline in which him and I met, I was already dealing with confusion, maladjustment, and a dear friend that faced demons only I knew of. Today her and I do not really keep in touch anymore despite being mostly amicable. As far as I know, she is thriving and walking up her own path and struggle day by day and I am happy for her. Though, resentment still plagues the back of my head as she fell victim to projection of my own flaws and I sadly fell into hers. It was a lot of up, downs, lefts, and rights with her and at that time we brought horrible things out in each other. Apart from my doings, she had a phobia of abandonment and would do anything and everything to reassure herself and of course, due to my lack of boundaries, I enabled her. She was and is not a person of bad morale, but the anything and everything included a lot of jabs and stabs that mark where some scars in my soul still are today. That was strike three for you, young philomath.

  Back to the twinkly yet empty eyes of the narcissist that ended up becoming my wicked boyfriend. Like a vulture, he spent his first few weeks and months with me circling me and analyzing just how vulnerable I was and how much I had on my plate. Again, I had no boundaries; that meant that whatever he wanted, he would draw out of me. And inspite of that, nothing was ever enough for him. Everyone dear in my life at that time, I gone to the extremes for. That is: everyone but my own self. So I kept enabling him to use me, control me, and display me as an accessory. Did I project my flaws on him too? Yes. The truth is I never was, am, and will never be perfect. The difference though, was that I eventually recognized where I fell wrong with my people and took it upon myself to halt it and improve myself. Him on the other hand, emotionally abused the soul out of me until it no longer yearned to be in my body and to this very day, he victimizes himself as the ex of a horrible liar slut that harassed him for affection and ended up cheating on him. Again, horrible move on my part for both parties involved, but I will never ever dismiss the things he would do to me. He would use my insecurities as leverage and hold my emotional needs hostage until I popped and fell into an irrational reactive state. And of course, he contorted it all to make me out as the guilty. The crazy bitch. Yes of course, the crazy bitch that gave him everything she could give to him. The same crazy bitch that he gaslit, put down, and rejected when she needed him the most. What people do not know today is that when I horribly sought other than his affection as I fell into another reactive state due to constant episodic emotional rejection, I already was contemplating leaving him. The cycles of abuse became unbearable, and although I do not excuse myself for it, they finally pushed me to do something that was awfully wrong on my ex’s and the involved person’s behalf. And I cheated. The cherry on top of the icing? I do not recall the timeline it happened and suppressed it due to personal trauma. I lived my life knowing and believing that everything that happened between me and said person was at a time where him and I were not an item. Until it was brought to light by the third party that I did what I did around two weeks before I left him, the time I knew as the moments I was building myself up the courage to leave him. And that was strike four.

  Strike four marked the most ultimate of an ultimatum for me; it was either saving myself or continue down the path of self obliteration. Those two weeks before I left him were a turning point; for once I felt like I had to choose myself and my sanity before anyone else’s. I took back control of my life by ending it with him. Although initially it was amicable as we shared a group of friends, I ended up backing away more and more until I cut him off completely because he kept trying to get his sticky fingers on me and snatch me back onto his rollercoaster. Things with my friend were still going though, and with all that I already had endured she again did anything and everything to feel like I was not going to abandon her. I felt and feel for her, I really do. Just like emotional rejection and abuse pushed me to do a big mistake, her fears pushed her too. But reasons and context do not mean excuses. If I held myself accountable for everything I projected on her and him and everyone else in my life at that time, it would mean I had to hold her accountable too. And so, the journey of learning how to set boundaries and bettering myself began. She rejected it the whole time. To her, boundaries meant abandonment, and the more I set them, the more she’d do anything and everything to reassure herself I would not desert her. Until she did one last move, after which I could not bring myself to tolerate anything. At a weak point of hers, she spoke with my same ex that I had cut off to console her about my issues with me. She knew what kind of a person he is. In her vulnerable moments, he saw an opportunity to “avenge” the narcissistic injury I caused him by taking back my own control and pulled and withdrew information from her that he ended up using against me. With one big mistake, he contorted, molded, and spiced things until they tasted just right. To him, this was his big moment that he was waiting for: to end the bitch that dared dump him before he finished dumping her. One year after breaking up with him and not speaking with him at all, he used my friend’s poor judgement and vulnerability to attempt sabotaging me and my reputation. He circled me with other people and bullied me for my pronounced sexuality and supposed “manipulation and lies” and tried to convince other people to jump on an anti-me bandwagon. He even went as far as claiming that his reputation, which he ruined with his own hands, was in fact tarnished by me and the said fact that I was “psychotic” and never shut up about him and talked horrible of him to everyone I knew. All I did was confide in my so-called friends about the abuse I endured; ironically, no one turned against him the way he claimed and everyone that actually had a problem with him had nothing to do with the people I confided in. In this circle of nonsense that brought me severe trauma, barely anyone took him seriously. Reasonably so, picture viewing a couple split and move along with their own lives until one decides to dish and chase the other with some old dirt between them to convince people that the other was ruining their precious reputation. No sensible person would interfere with someone else’s problems with another. I ended up standing up for myself and further asserted my boundaries away from him by refuting responsibility for his broken reputation and stated that in fact it was his problem. I also mentioned that the circus of a show was unnecessary and that if he approached me like normal people do I would have been reacting very differently and took responsibility for my “dirt”. I ended things between him and I by pointing out the fact that it was pathetic to harass someone a year after they broke up him and it did nothing but prove his goal of claiming me as the “obsessed liar” the actual opposite. In the end, I was not the one to harass the other long after no contact with an old screw up.

  I then retained my most powerful tool: boundaries. Although I understood why my friend spoke with him, I could not help but hold her accountable that her irresponsibility with that move caused him to set off on a rampage. So I kept withdrawing from her and she could not bear it. Until one day she comes and “warns” me to “be careful of what I tell my friends because they are not the people I think they are”. The very friend that I had trusted with my life and a lot of information and mistakes on my behalf. The same friend that allowed him to grab those out of her in her vulnerable moments. I am more than sorry for everything I caused her, but this is something I would never forget. I remember trembling with anger and blocking her so that I would not blow up on her and cause her trouble and cost her a spiral. I got so angry that I became sick the next day. And ever since then, I had enough of my relationship with her. It was clear to me that we had both done too much to each other to recover from as normal friends. It had to end. After a few months of occasional angry SMS’s from her, I made it clear why I left and what I felt and that she would have to stop sending me message. She ended up acknowledging my hurt and apologized for everything she had done on her part. Everything. I remember crying with exasperation as I read her message admitting to everything; as for a good while of my life, I felt like I was the only one paying for my mistakes and trying to remedy them. The fact that someone else finally took responsibility for the damage done to me was something new and something alien. All that because I learned to set boundaries.

  I brought myself out of my stroll down memory lane. Now, I am filled with nothing but pride that I not only overcame my own demons and learned the concept of boundaries, pride that I chose to use my mistakes as a learning point and not a point of shame. I now have more power and independence than ever; although, I still have a lot to work on. My ordeal has caused me to be very reluctant with expecting anyone to assist me with any hardship and become guarded. On a note, I do not expect my ex’s last appearance to be final; that is unless he becomes knowledgeable enough to realize one more move towards me would show everyone watching his true color and that his most prized possession, his ego, would be in danger. I do hope he left things as they are and just gave up; as I am not a hostile person that enjoys attacking- even in self defense. But it became clear that staying out of his path does not stop him from staying out of mine. I feel always ready and on edge to play his exact game and use leverage against him so that he would never come near me again.

  As I now conclude writing to go study, I feel nothing but content with who I surround myself now and the person I have become. Thank you, Philomath again for living up to your name and allowing your love for learning get me out of a path of self destruction.

[meteora-writes]

We Could Be Perfect One Last Night ch.9

Fandom: Hannibal Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham Warnings: Angst, Talk of Mental Illness, Talk of Hallucinations, Confessions, Extreme Fluff, First Kiss Chapter: 9. Never Be Afraid (Again) Description:  While driving with Hannibal and Chiyoh, Will admits to something he never shared with anyone. Once they reach the house in New York, something changes between Will and Hannibal.  Authors Notes: So I posted this days ago on ao3 and didn’t get a chance to set it up on here until just now. I apologize. I’m working on creating a twitch channel so once or twice a week people can watch me write, and this will likely be one of the things I work on there, so I promise delays in posting are worth it in the end. Read On AO3

~~~~~ Read Ch.1.Ch.2.Ch.3.Ch.4.Ch.5.Ch.6 Ch.7 Ch.8~~~~~

Will doesn’t know what to feel when he climbs into the backseat of the SUV Chiyoh brought to spirit them away. He’s grateful to be leaving for someplace less damp and confined. But a part of him feels like he’s leaving some part of himself behind as he watches the cabin shrink in the distance through the rear-view mirror.

It doesn’t help that he’s feeling mixed emotions from Chiyoh that he has to separate from his own. He can tell she’s happy to see Hannibal again. But there’s something else churning beneath the surface. An unease that he suspects has to do with old worries he might ask her to go back to a life of solitude somewhere for his own amusement. Given the life Hannibal has had for the past three years, he doesn’t see the man being so cruel as to ask her to seclude herself again.

And then there’s Hannibal, who masks so much of what he’s feeling. What he does give off is usually faint and easy to navigate. It’s nice, not having to sort out if he’s feeling his own emotions or someone else’s when it comes to being with Hannibal. Yes, Hannibal has a presence that draws out Will’s darker nature. Which he initially mistook as belonging to Hannibal and Hannibal alone. He knows better now. It’s not that Will was mirroring Hannibal when he wanted to kill or hurt him or others, it was Hannibal drawing his own suppressed feelings to the surface.

“Are there going to be any stops along the way?” Chiyoh asks once they’re on the highway. She’s behind the wheel, Hannibal riding in the front passenger seat beside her and Will in the seat behind him. It’s the first time she’s spoken in the ten minutes she’s been with them, aside from greeting them both upon her arrival. She believes Hannibal would have informed her in advance if they were picking up any… guests… But it doesn’t hurt to ask.

“Not today, no,” Hannibal says simply as he watches the trees pass by. “I believe Will and I both would benefit from a few more days to recover before we should attempt anything strenuous. And I would like to take some time to get the house ready for guests first.”

“Will you be needing my assistance then? Or am I free to go once you and Will are settled?” she asks carefully. She’ll help if asked, but she doesn’t want to kill anyone if she doesn’t have to. And she doesn’t want to bear witness to the things he intends to do to his enemies. She accepts Hannibal, loves him in her own way, but she won’t be a part of the things he does to those he deems to be less.

“Depending on how things go after we’ve dealt with Bedelia, having back up when we go after Jack might be a good idea,” Will suggests, earning a questioning glance back from the woman. “Hannibal filled me in on your aptitude with a sniper rifle. Thank you, by the way, for not aiming anywhere vital when you shot me back in Palermo.”

“Thank you for not giving me a reason to,” she counters with the faintest hint of a smile. Will can see it when he looks in the rear-view mirror. “I promised Hannibal once before that I would watch over him. If he needs me to, I will be there to keep watch while the two of you do what needs to be done to Agent Crawford.”

“Thank you, Chiyoh.” The warmth in Hannibal’s voice is as evident and clear as the smile on his face.

Will catches sight of it when he looks to the mirror on their side of the vehicle. It’s nice seeing Hannibal so open with his feelings towards others. It’s a stark contrast to how he acts when those he doesn’t consider to be family are present.

“I was able to locate and purchase a ship similar to the one you described,” Chiyoh notes with another glance in the rear-view mirror to Will. “It has sails, as well as a diesel engine. It was well cared for by the previous owner and should meet your needs. I was told it would be ready to sail by next week. I paid an additional sum to have them upgrade the navigational equipment and install a new engine.”

“That’s great.” Will can’t help being a little surprised that she found a boat like the one he wanted so quickly, given how specific he was about what it needed to have. Hannibal insisted on Will giving her exact details for what he would feel most comfortable sailing since he would be the one captaining and maintaining the vessel. He really needs to stop underestimating her. “Did you ask them to order spare engine parts?”

“I did. They said you would be more than prepared should anything happen while at sea,” Chiyoh assures. She sat with the people at the marina for several hours working out every aspect of the transaction and the services they would provide to get the ship seaworthy in a timely manner.

“That’s wonderful news. I look forward to seeing the ship when the time comes. What is the name of the vessel?” Hannibal asks, tone of voice never wavering from the openly pleased tone it caries. He never doubts in Chiyoh and her abilities to carry out a task with exceptional results.

“The Black Stag.” She’s about to explain that she already placed an order for most of the other supplies they would need now that the ship is taken care of, but she’s cut off abruptly by the sound of sudden, near-hysterical sounding laughing from the back seat.

Hannibal actually turns in his seat and peers over the back to get a look at Will. He’s doubled over, arms wrapped around himself as if his sides hurt from the action, laughing so hard it sounds like he’s on the verge of hyperventilating. “I take it there is something you find amusing about that name?”

“It’s…” Will manages to say in a wheeze before another loud laugh escapes him beyond his control. “It’s just that… When I… When I had encephalitis… That was what I saw… that made me realize something was wrong with me… A massive black stag.” His laughter starts to calm down as he explains, and he gasps in great lungfuls of air as he tries to calm himself from the manic reaction to hearing the name of the ship Chiyoh found them. It’s impossible. He doesn’t believe in God in any form of the traditional sense, but that name has him wondering if this is some kind of a sign from above.

Hannibal thinks back, remembering Will talking about antlers after killing Garret Jacob Hobbs, and then later mumbling about a stag when he would use the phototherapy lights to help him get inside Will’s mind and nurture the seeds of change sprouting inside of him. “God has quite a sense of humor. Tell me, Will, when you saw this stag, what was it the creature would do?”

“Usually? It would follow me. Or just stand off to the side watching. I saw it at the hospital, work, home,” Will explains as his breathing starts to go back to normal at last. “The real irony is that it still appears in my daydreams and nightmares sometimes. But its shape changes depending on where I am and who I’m with. It becomes humanoid. Takes your face but remains a monstrous black being with antlers and the twisted body of a man.” Will scrubs his face with both hands, trying to calm himself down just a bit more. He still feels the urge to laugh despite himself. It’s just too crazy.

“Like a wendigo?” Chiyoh asks out of the blue, surprising both Will and Hannibal.

“Yes, exactly like a wendigo!” Will exclaims as he finally sits up straight in his seat once again and runs a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs back from his forehead in the process. He blinks in confusion a moment later when he notices Hannibal still staring at him from over the edge of his seat with a look that Will can’t read. It takes a second for him to realize what Hannibal is looking at. He now has a clear view of the scar on Will’s forehead. He’s been letting his hair fall over his forehead for the past two weeks, unintentionally keeping the mark covered.

Will runs his hand over his forehead, fingertips skimming over the raised line of tissues as he averts his eyes from the other man’s. He can still remember the feeling of the saw despite the haze of the drugs Hannibal had given him. The way it sent vibrations throughout his skull and down into the rest of his body as it ripped its way into him. The horrible sound of it beginning to cut bone that still echos through his skull in his nightmares. “That actually makes a lot of sense now that I think about it…”

Hannibal hums at that, understanding what Will means. It started appearing to him when he had to hunt down a cannibal. The fact that it stuck around after clearly shows how that case affected Will. And then for it to take on the appearance of Hannibal? He’s not sure how he feels about that exactly, knowing the legends of the wendigo and their association with madness as well as cannibalism. Hannibal is far from mad. And he imagines if one were ever to become such a creature, he surely would have long ago.

The conversation is dropped there. None of them feels the desire to continue on or change the subject.

Will is grateful for the quiet after everything he just shared. He never even told Molly about the stag. She knew about his nightmares. How they would creep into his mind even when daydreaming or spacing out and leave him shaken at times. But he could never bring himself to try and explain it to her and she didn’t push.

He feels oddly hollow now. Not in a bad way. It’s more like the feeling of relief one gets from finally being able to tell the whole truth about something. He always felt he couldn’t talk about the stag. Like it was a sign of how deeply messed up he really is. And he was certain that he would be sent back to the mental hospital if he told anyone about it. Put on medications and told he’s crazy.

But Chiyoh and Hannibal aren’t like the other people he’s known in his life. They don’t seem to think he’s crazy. And they don’t look at him like he’s lost his mind for admitting to seeing this imaginary creature. Hannibal knows and understands how Will’s mind works. Almost better than Will does at times. He gets that he has the imagination of an overactive child but the dark impulses of a man.

It shouldn’t surprise Will that the other man would be accepting of this quirk as well as all of his others.

But it does surprise him. Leaves him feeling strange. In the end, he decides not to think too hard on it or the feeling, and ends up turning his head to watch the scenery go by through the dark tinted windows of the SUV. He falls asleep less than an hour later.

~~~~~

The house is about what Will had expected for one owned by Hannibal. It had the exterior aesthetic of a log cabin, with the modern interior of a luxurious modern house. All dark woods and sleek designs opposed to the softer outside. There are two floors and a basement, obviously. As well as a garage and a fenced area out behind that looks like it might be for a garden of sorts.

Hannibal walks into the house ahead of Will. He immediately hung his coat in the small closet next to the entrance before taking a few steps to enter the living room. It’s a bit dark. Some light filtering in around the curtains that weren’t closed properly the last time someone had been there. He doesn’t seem to notice though, as he immediately goes to the closest armchair and pulls a dusty sheet off of it, which he begins to fold meticulously.

“What can I do to help?” Will asks, standing in the doorway still. He’s looking around slowly. Taking in the few pieces of art he sees on the walls and the comfortable-looking furniture that Hannibal is beginning to uncover in the living room area.

Hannibal pauses in his folding to look across the room at Will. He seems to consider the question a moment before glancing towards the windows behind him. “Opening the windows would be a great help. It’s been quite some time since this place got a bit of fresh air.”

“Sure, I can do that,” Will agrees as he shrugs off his coat and hangs it in the closet beside Hannibal’s. The air does smell fairly stale. Musty almost. Full of dust. It makes his nose itch with the urge to sneeze that isn’t quite strong enough to actually come forth on it’s own.

Pulling the curtains open floods the room with light, making the dust motes floating in the air strikingly obvious. The fresh gust of cool air that comes in when Will opens the window only adds to the effect, making them swirl and dance in the open space.

Once all the windows in the living room are open, Will looks around and notices the doorway that leads to what he assumes is the dining area or kitchen. With a glance to Hannibal, who is still uncovering furniture, he heads that way to open more windows.

The kitchen is so strikingly similar to the one in Hannibal’s old house that Will actually freezes in the doorway upon seeing it. The only real differences that Will can see are that the fridge is on the opposite wall, and the counters are a different color of marble. It’s like stepping into an alternate reality for a moment. And he has flashes of himself and Hannibal there. Chatting over coffee. Watching him cook the two of them dinner… And then it shifts and twists back to the kitchen in Baltimore, to blood and Abigail and ungodly pain. And then finally to a bloody Hannibal walking away from the two of them...

Hannibal sees the way Will’s body locks up momentarily upon seeing the kitchen before he clearly forces himself to walk into the room in an unusually stiff manner. It makes a pang of something that feels dangerously like guilt hit him. He can imagine the things that have to be going through Will’s mind in that moment, and they’re far from pleasant he’s sure. He can only imagine what kinds of things might trigger Will to relive the more horrible moments of his past. Moments that Hannibal caused...

It takes about an hour to get things in order. They get all of the furniture uncovered, windows open, electricity and water turned back on. Chiyoh shows up with groceries just after they finish getting things in working order, and she helps them clean things up a bit before bidding them goodbye for now and heading off to wherever it is that she intends to stay, since she declined to stay with the two of them. She lets Hannibal know there is an SUV in the garage now that they should be travel in without issues. He thanks her, and with that, she’s gone.

They don’t talk much that evening, Will and Hannibal. It’s been a long day and they’re both tired. It isn’t until late that evening when Hannibal comments on going to sleep that it strikes them both that the house has multiple bedrooms. They don’t -have- to sleep together. But one look shared between them makes it clear that isn’t what either man wants.

So, Will sets aside the now empty glass of whiskey he had been sipping as they sat by the fire, and walks over to where Hannibal stands beside the stairs that lead up to the second floor. He reaches out slowly, as if afraid of being rebuked for the action, and gently takes Hannibal’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.

His eyes are downcast, looking at their hands and pointedly not at Hannibal’s face. A mix of anxiety, embarrassment, and whiskey coloring and warming his cheeks. He feels ridiculous. Like a schoolboy with a crush. But he just doesn’t know how the hell to feel about the other man in that moment or what to make of Hannibal’s feelings towards him. He just knows he doesn’t want to be away from him if he doesn’t have to be...

Hannibal turns towards Will, making the other man’s breath hitch audibly as he draws closer. He raises the hand not currently being held, and uses a finger under Will’s chin to make him look up, worried blue meeting warm brown. “Stay with me, Will?”

Will seems to relax at the question, shoulders sagging just a little as he looks Hannibal in the eye and nods. Hannibal’s finger stays under his chin. Keeping his head tilted and eyes locked with the older man’s. He can see the longing in them. Feel it. It mixes with his own... And before he can overthink it, he leans in, tilts his head ever so slightly, and brings their lips together.

It’s soft. Brief. And Hannibal returns it readily. His every nerve singing with the pleasant shock of it. When they part Will has a questioning look in his eyes. Wanting to know if he read the moment wrong. If he’s just made a huge mistake. All Hannibal can bring himself to do in answer is gently slip his hand around to the back of Will’s neck and pull him into another soft kiss.

They stand there a long moment, Will hedging closer into Hannibal’s space as they give in to the desire that’s been building between them for some time. They finally part when Hannibal needs a breath, and he opens his eyes to find a small smile on Will’s lips. “Let’s go to bed?”

The question is innocent. No implication of wanting any more than what Will just shared with him. It’s late, and they’re both still healing. In more ways than one. He has no intention of rushing this. And Will seems to feel the same.

“Lead the way,” Will utters before stealing one last, quick kiss. Because he can. Because it feels like he is allowed to do that. And because it lets him know that what just happened was real and not some imagined moment in his overactive mind.

Hannibal does lead the way. And they take their time changing into nightclothes before slipping under the covers of the king-sized bed of the master bedroom. Even with the much larger sleeping space, the moment they are in it together Will gravitates towards him. Seeks him out and moves in close enough to feel Hannibal’s warmth and solid presence.

They fall asleep curled together much like they would back in the cabin. Only now, Will leans in and gives Hannibal one last kiss goodnight before they both drift off.

[stardustdaemon]

We’ll Be Okay - Final

Finally here. I would like to say in advance, I’ve been debating an addition to this story since I finished it, a few ideas on where to take it and I hope this is the ending you would’ve liked to see for this fic. That being said, thank you to everyone who has given it support and love. Big love to you all and, enjoy!!! <3 <3 <3

                       —————————————————

It had been a few years since his last big scare. It was almost hard to imagine or believe, waking up every day with a fraction more energy than the last, a little more weight on his frame.

The hardest thing to believe was the warmth of Yoongi next to him every morning, the way his face would scrunch up when the sun light that peeked through the curtains would hit his face, the drawl of his voice when he’d wake up, the petulant and almost childish way he’d draw the covers over his head almost every morning.

Being able to get out of bed every morning, energy bursting at the seams as he’d go about showering, making breakfast and getting the olders coffee ready, always black with no sugar.

He remembered the day Yoongi asked him to move in with him, a bland day sat in a café to wait out the rain.

“Hey, I was looking at apartments the other day. I found some pretty nice ones.” Yoongi had spoken the words into the rim of his cup, piquing Taehyungs interest as the younger leant forwards slightly, replying with a hum of interest.

“They’re all pretty affordable too, how about you come look at them with me? One of them has a balcony, I know you like to star gaze.” His tone was gentle, soft in a rare and intimate way that made Taehyung’s heart flutter, in a good way. He nodded, taking a sip of his smoothie.

“Yeah sure! I’d love to come round to look at the sky. A bigger place will be better too, your current apartment is really cramped.” Taehyung mused, gently biting his straw absentmindedly, eyes trained on the rain. Yoongi stayed silent for a while before huffing, leaning over to hold Taehyungs hand. The younger raised an eyebrow, nodding to let Yoongi know he was listening.

“I actually wanted you to come with me. To move with me.” The words were quiet, swept away with the noise of the door opening but Taehyung had heard it clear as day, his face flushing red as he stared at the older, face splitting into a grin as he squeezed his hand.

“I would love to!”

It took some convincing both Jin and Namjoon that he’d be okay, ended with him making a promise to message them every day and meet up once a week. Not that he minded, he knew they were only concerned.

He often felt bad, for hiding how much pain he was in over the years, in fear of bothering everyone or stopping them from something important. But now older and better, he knew none of them blamed him, for being ill or hiding it, but he also understood the importance of telling those around him. Those who loved him.

“I don’t have much on today, just a phonecall. Want to do something?” Yoongi’s voice broke through his thoughts and Taehyung nodded, taking a bite out of his apple before leaning down to kiss his boyfriends forehead. Yoongi just smiled, hooking an arm around his waist to keep him close.  They stayed that way for a while, content in the silence of each others company.

“Can we just stay in today and watch a movie? Maybe order pizza, I really want Pizza.” Taehyung mused, chucking his apple core straight into the bin, hand resting over his heart in habit. Yoongi noticed, shaking his head to himself at the tiny spike of panic.

Taehyung hadn’t had an emergency in two years, since then they’d put him on new medication that seemed to be working wonders. He still got tired quicker than everyone else, sometimes nauseous out of nowhere and rarely threw up. There were days he’d spend in bed, pale and weak but he’d be bouncing about the apartment the next day, skin golden and warm. He’d join in on the play fights with Jimin and Jungkook, sometimes accompanying Hoseok to his dance practice, surprisingly good with his body.

As Yoongi watched his boyfriend (he still couldn’t quite believe he got to call him that) potter about the kitchen, he couldn’t help but smile. He always thought Taehyung was like the sun; bright and warm, welcoming and almost homey, even when he was at his worst. But now, the man stood in front of him was brighter than the sun, shining brighter than any star he could ever see.

“If we’re not going out, do we have to get dressed?” Taehyung mused, reaching for a glass as Yoongi stood up, arms wrapping around his waist, cheek pressing to his back.

“Nah, like this is just fine.” He mumbled, relishing in the gentle vibrations of the others laugh, way his shoulders moved with each breath.

“I think that’s everything. Why do we have so much stuff Yoongi?” Taehyung called out, dropping to the floor to catch his breath, ignoring the shoe digging into his hip. Yoongi just shrugged, leaning over him, hair and necklace dangling from his frame.

“No idea, though half of this is your god damn wardrobe.” He quipped, standing straight when Tae retaliated by swiping for his pendant. After helping the younger up, Yoongi led him to the bedroom, sitting him on the bed with a concerned frown. Taehyung rolled his eyes, forcing the irritation bubbling up inside of him to settle down. Yoongi was allowed to worry, he needed to learn to accept this.

“Get some rest, you did a lot today.” Yoongi’s words were quiet as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to the youngers forehead. Taehyung just nodded, shrugging his jacket off an laying down.

“You too old man, it’s late. We can unpack tomorrow.”

“So, what are we watching anyway?” Yoongi asked, opening his arms on instinct as Taehyung leant backwards, back pressed to his chest.  

“Something cheesy. I don’t care that you don’t like it, you always fall asleep anyway.” Tae answered, shoving a slice of pizza at Yoongi’s mouth, a sign to not reply.

They settled in, lit only by the light of the screen as the main character appeared in what seemed to be a montage of their morning. Yoongi just sighed, hands pressed flat to Tae’s stomach as he settled in, eyes focusing on the boy in front of him rather than the screen.

The film was boring, incredibly so and Taehyung became restless half way through, eventually sitting up with a groan, stretching his arm above his head. They switched to an action movie, this time sitting side by side, knees touching and hands linked.

Life was easy with Taehyung. And even though in one of their cupboards there was emergency drips and needles, injections and stronger medication, it didn’t scare either of them anymore. Yoongi had asked the nurses to teach him how to administer any treatment. Taehyung still had scars and marks all over his body, but they were replaced by lingering kisses and gentle touches, hard to even remember anymore. Every inch of him was saturated in love, in adoration and he was happy.

Once they’d fully realised the depths of their feelings for one another, any awkwardness faded away, opening up to a relaxed and friendly atmosphere, often described by those around them as a “love that has already been for years and years.”

It had happened too fast. One moment Taehyung was happy, bubbly, leg propped up on the sofa as him and Jimin harmonised to the song on the radio, the next we had dropped to the floor, breathing shallow and hand on his heart. He briefly remembered his name being called, an extra voice, a journey into a car then blinded by lights.

He awoke where he knew he’d be, in a hospital bed, greeted by the setting sun and Yoongi sat at his side, face tight with stress.  

“Hey.” Taehyung spoke, sitting up and ignoring the way his body ached. Yoongi smiled, shoulders relaxing ever so slightly as he stood up, arms wrapping around the other. No more words were exchanged, both knew what the other was thinking, feeling.  

Once the doctor had been by, made sure Taehyung knew the signs of his limits and how to keep his energy high and given him a new prescription, he was free to leave once he felt ready. Yoongi stayed by his side, easy and going with what Taehyung said and he was grateful that he wasn’t making a fuss anymore. Grateful he didn’t feel guilty this time.  

The drive home was familiar and calm, eventually opening up to promises to protect and affirmations to stay safe.

Once their door was open, Yoongi had cracked, letting a tear fall down his face as he pulled Taehyung into a hug.

“Before I say anything, you’re not allowed to feel guilty, but, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing you in a hospital bed, the feeling that runs through me when I know what’s happened. But I also know you’ll fight it, all the way, and I’m so proud of you for that. I love you. Thank you, for letting me in.”

Now bathed in the blue light of the tv, watching Yoongi’s chest rise with his breaths, his head on Taehyung’s shoulder as he slept, Taehyung had never felt happier.

“I love you.”

[moonrhee]

     anyone asked for an alcoholic baby ? i’m here to provide.

✧・ﾟ:    jeon jungkook  +  cismale  +  he/him    |    if  you’re  ever  by  6b  ,  you  might  see  moon  rhee  floating  around.  you  know  ,  the  twenty  -  four  year  old  capricorn  who’s  lived  in  the  complex  for  three years  ?  you  know  ,  the  tattoo artist  seems  to  remind  everyone  of  inked  sleeves  and  artistic  drawings  in  napkins  ,  loud  music  behind  closed  doors  ,  piano  melodies  and  unfinished  melodies.  i  wonder  if  that  has  to  do  with  their  paranoid yet  charming personality

hello , i am super late for the party, but my name is nochu , i’m apart of the gmt+1 crowd and i’m an irresponsible taurus. either way, i took a little longer to get online today because my ear burst and i’ve been in and out of it for the whole afternoon but i’m here now , for some killer plotting ! so let’s get this bread , my discord is 𝙣𝙤𝙘𝙝𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙢𝙪𝙘𝙝 ♡#6348 , reach me , beep me , let’s make things happen

name Eros Yun Rhee ( unknown )

nicknames moon rhee, moon, moonie, moomoo

age twenty - four

date of birth december 27th 1995

zodiac sign capricorn

profession tattoo artist / social media influencer

pets two dogs ( one labradoodle, one german shepard )

tattoos / piercings: check

trigger warnings: mental illness, prejudice, neglect, toxic relationships ( will be tagged accordingly when it comes up )

i. moon was always an odd child. the first thing striking strange was how he didn’t spoke until the age of seven. besides being a quiet, very into his own world child, his parents still got struck with shock and concern so they went over and beyond to make sure they knew what was wrong with their baby boy. doctors could not explain the lack of sounds and words coming from the child. it took seven years and a straightforward doctor to tell them moon simply ... didn’t want to talk. like he knew how to and knew the vocabulary, he just didn’t want to to talk. scandalized, his parents kept looking for the best diagnosis, but moon really just didn’t want to talk 

ii. not to mention the Rhee family were owners of several multi-national and international businesses, so spending money? not a problem. it also took a lot of time from the two parents so moon was left to the nannies. you know, typical rich person problem. ( TW NEGLECT ) since he had already brought attention to himself once and didn’t enjoy it, he did the bare minimum to not be noticed. this didn’t meant he didn’t crave attention, but seeing his parents running around, spending money made him take a step back. like i said: he was an odd child. he dove on his books and notes, especially diving in the world he would one day call his profession

iii. he wasn’t one to cause problems, he really wasn’t. the only moments he really disappointed and brought the attention to himself was when he did his first tattoo, at fifteen. he wasn’t the most popular for sure, but he had a solid group of friends who genuinely loved him. even so, they did everything together, including forming a band at some point, which was later dissolved. it was around this time Moon started to pick up from social media, even starting a youtube channel with his friends. as time went by, the channel became more redirected to what moon did and posted, so changed to his own, personal channel

vi. he was still the heir to the rhee fortune and this meant some obligations; obligations he did not want. one of them was settling down with someone of higher class. luckily, his naive personality at the time made it easier for him to actually fall in love with one of those, leaving his mother static. the boy was infatuated with the most beautiful pristine new york girl and wedding plans were already in the making. but moon is intense and he already wanted to be with her at all times, so they moved in together as soon as they turned eighteen and started their life together ... everything was picture perfect, until ... it wasn’t

v. ( TW TOXIC RELATIONSHIP ) moon couldn’t understand how could someone change so much so fast. she went from sweet to sour, from loving him to hating him. their affections disappeared, their smiles vanished and he was left with a hate he didn’t understood. many were the nights fights became physical and he’d step down, hiding the scars behind good appearances. despite everything, he still wanted to make his mother happy. it drove away all his friends and he nearly stopped doing what he loved for her. he nearly survived with her

vi. he finally realized this wasn’t it for him. he didn’t recognized himself in the mirror. he didn’t knew who he was anymore. so three years into living together, he packs his things in secret. he prepares to leave and just ... disappears from the maps. he’s not stupid, however. he knows his family will find him pretty quick. his mother tells him she’ll disown him if he doesn’t come back, but it doesn’t matter; moon finds home in las vegas, by himself. with the money he saved, he opens his parlour and relies on his famous contacts and clients to come by. his heart? shut down. he’s still cheeful for his videos and fans, vlogging and doing whatever he wants. youtube pays well too. and he got the views and subscribers for it

what do we hate ???? socks. we also don’t love shoes, shoes are awful, especially inside. we love to sing and post covers, we’re always singing when we’re at home; we were in a band. we love alcohol, we love to forget our mistakes ... we love to pretend things like the past didn’t happen ... we love to write and to draw and to play the piano. we love to paint. we’re very artistic when we want.

[painandpleasure86]

I can’t live with you (but I can’t live without you) - JohnicaWeek 2020

Author’s note: This idea born in my mind since Rachel announced this special week. My real life inspo were my own parents, married since 1991 (I born in 1992). Here I portray this couple as I imagine, based in real life experience having a 67 yrs old dad and in things that I read about this couple. This will be the most realistic posible representation of them that I could write. Don’t hate me if isn’t all cuteness here, life it’s good but also bad things :/ Also sorry if it’s too cheesy! I don’t like make suffer to my characters a lot lol.

Art by @imflashqueen (instagram). She drew the second piece inspired in my story! She was my beta indeed :3 Thank you for give me some feedback! Ah, and the first one was an old collab that we did in last November!

Plus, i’m doing this just for mere entertainment ;) I just love participate in this kind of events to meet new people, practicing my skills and have fun!

Summary: The anniversary date it’s here! How will they react about this?

Pairing: Current John and Ronnie :)

Warnings: Angst, some humor, some swearing, some fluff too. Mention of death.

Word count: 2139 words, perhaps my longest fic. If not, the second one.

Prompt used: Anniversary Day

First part

January 11th. Just like another weekend, another morning. He left very early his bed, trying to not wake up her. He wants some quientness to drink his tea. He wants to forget for a moment everything. Ever that next Saturday will be 18th. Just like in 1975. A cold Saturday in that catholic church, where Freddie made a particular entrance. Remembering that made him smile, but then was so upset, because Fred were ruining the strict ceremony. 

“I’ll always love you bud. Cheers for you” he said rising his almost empty cup of tea watching the sky through the windom and finishing his tea. 

His eyes were shining. His smile, wide. Until…

“Morning, no?” she said near to him.

He jumpscared a bit.

“God Ron! You know that I have heart problems…” he exaggerated putting his left hand in his chest.

She laughed.

“Exaggerated as always…” she added.

“Morning, yeah!?” he said finally, letting the empty cup of tea in the nearest table.

She started to prepare her breakfast. 

“Who you were talking?”

Lighting a cigarette, he said “I… just remembered something Ron.” He aspired the smoke deeply. Now the cigarette are between his index and his middle finger of his right hand. 

“Something happy”. Let go to the smoke through his nose.

Her eyes focused in him and smiling widely.

“I just remembered when Freddie entered to the church with that two girls in our wedding.” He aspired the smoke again. “Hahahaha… he couldn’t did it in another way!”

Her face turned so quickly in an deceptioned expression.

“oh… that, haha.” she said meanwhile she was preparing her tea.

Letting go the smoke but now from his mouth, he smiled mischievously. He did it again.

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

In the afternoon of that Saturday, the couple received a video call of their youngest offspring.

“Hiiiiii dad!! Hiiii mom!!!” he said with his habitual happiness, smiling widely.

Both parents greeted to their son.

The young continued talking.

“How you feel knowing that next Sat will be your anniversary?”

Ronnie smiled widely. “FINE!!”

But he stared at the camera and rolled his eyes, sighing. “Another year” he said kinda melancholic.

His son and his wife watched at him.

“Huh? I was honest.” But really he wasn’t real honest…

Trying to change the mood, Cameron added with a smile “Well, the fans are more excited for that than you, and you’re the one that’s married with that lady” winking an eye to his mom.

Being visible upset, the old man said: “That fans, ha! Try to be married at least 5 years and have 3 children in the meantime and after they can say if they’re happy with that life! I have enough of that fans speaking about me like the cute one, the good dad! I wasn’t one all the time for fucking god's sake!”. He raised of his chair and slammed the door of the room.

“Another time with that rant about the fans…” she said sighing and watching at her child.

“Well, let’s speak about you then mom. You have plans to the anniversary?” he said trying to make smile to the 69 years old woman.

She said “yeah. I reserved a table in Nobu for that day” and smiled shyly.

“MOOOOOOM, that restaurant it’s so famous. Every famous people will can see you with Dad there” almost shout the young man.

“It’s my intention, son.” and she smiled kinda mischievously.

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

Second part

Another 18th came finally. Another year. Another cold winter day. Another time where he remembered why he did that.

He opened his eyes that morning earlier than usual. He watched at his side. She was snoring softly. 

Finally he decided take his morning tea. Putting his robe and his winter flip-flops, go to the kitchen. He’s trying to not make any noise. More than ever, this morning needs that Ronnie don’t wake up at the same time than him. More than ever wants some silence and time with himself.

In the kitchen, he puts to boil some water to his tea. Meanwhile, he smokes a cigarette watching at outside through the window, still dark.

“45 damn years today. For good or bad... “ he sigh deeply meanwhile he was thinking. “Sometimes I ask myself why I did that. Sometimes I wanted to get away from this life, but for some reason i’m still here. Perhaps i’m tired of trying? I don’t know.” He aspired the smoke and let it go in a deep exhalation. “The only certainty it’s that I decided 45 years ago that beautiful slim prego lady, now an old woman, be my wife. Her…” and his thoughts were interrupted for the sound of the boiling water. “For fucking god’s sake…” he mumbled, while he turned off the fire. He prepared the tea and go to his “office” to check the internet. “Let’s see what the people say about me today… Wait. It’s early… Don’t care. I’ll be with this all day long if it’s necessary. This will be more fun than always.”

He sat at his desk with his computer, with his tea in one side. Meanwhile the PC was initializing, he was with a lot of expectative.

He sips his tea and opened the navigator. Typed the right search in the search bar. “Gosh, a lot of thing already. That people really loves me being with her”, he whispered. Clicks in the first result. And he started to laugh. “Happy 45th anniversary blahblahblah, his marriage its the proof that the love always wins” he said reading the text on that post in a social network. “Little person, it’s just the proof that I prefer be with her for a reason. Well... Six reasons. Hahahaha” he “responded”. 

Another post. That one, a drawing. “Oh okay, I look cute with her, goooootcha” he said  with a pinch of sarcasm. 

A fic. In this he stopped to read it entirely. He almost ended his tea meanwhile. And his laugh was harder. “These little girls haves a lot of imagination. Gosh, why I’m almost always the good boy in this things? Hahahahaha”

And another, and another, and another… He passed a lot of his morning there, having fun or merely entertain himself with the posts of the fandom. More than always.

Ronnie wake up. And her husband isn’t there with her. “John… at least today…” she though resigned meanwhile she puts her robe and his flip-flops.

When she was about to down the stairs, she listened a loud laugh. “He’s in the studio”.

She knocked the door. 

And he sighed. “why Ronnie?” he though. But he said “come in!”, still laughing.

“Morning Ronnie!” he said as any morning. But that one wasn't like any morning. Was the morning.

She stared at him, after close the door behind her. 

“Just that?”

He rolled his eyes, sighing.

“Happy anniversary Ronnie!” and he smiled quite exaggerated. “Come here”.

She was with mixed thoughts and kinda hysterical, but she approached him. She after a few steps was at his side. He hugged her, still in that comfy chair, with funny face. She couldn’t resist to hug him too, caressing his almost bald head. “Sometimes I hate your behavior John” though Ronnie. “But anyways i think that I still like to be with you, haha”, continued in her mind, quite smiling.

He, moving his face to leave that embrace, said “Well honey, I told it. I was cute no? hahaha. Stay with me and have fun with me reading that things that under 30-years-old girls write and draw about us”.

She stepped away from him.

“John, that people are just being kind with you. A lot of people recognize you now. A whole new generation. And they’re educated greeting us for the anniversary”, she said watching at him.

He laughed. Turning his chair in her direction, he continued talking. 

“Ron, that people thinks that marriage its easy, plus having 6 SIX kids to raise! Isn’t nice, it’s hard! And super stressful!”

Her face showed her nuisance.

“Ha, really you say that? You always recording or touring or in an endless holidays. I raised OUR kids ALONE a lot of time!”

He sighed so deeply. He started to need another cigarette. Now his arms are crossed.

“Really this again? Honey, stop. We fixed that already. Now i’m more at home with you and I helped a lot raising to our youngest kids”

Without thinking in the repercussion of her words, she said “Yeah, just because Freddie died before the birth of our youngest ones” and she half turned to her left, arms crossed.

He was without words. Was like a dagger in his heart. He didn’t knew how to react. A lot of mixed feelings. His hands in his face, he reclined his head.

“Veronica, get out.”

She, watching the results of her impulse, tried to fix that situation… in vain.

“But John, it wasn’t m-”

“GET. OUT.” His words were like a sharp.

She left the room, almost crying. “Well I’ll change my clothes meanwhile… and ill make my breakfast” she though in the meanwhile.

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

That old wound was opened. he remembered that words about getting older together writing songs. he remembered how Freddie cheered him up to write songs, how he said once “shhhh John it’s creating”. He remembered noticed that scars. And knowing that his friend would die sooner than everyone expected. “He had a lot to give… We lost a lot of moments together for that damn disease. He was my real fuel to composing, and when he gone, my interest faded away. I just wanted to survive…” he started to think. He raise of his chair and took an old whiskey that he had over there, serve a glass of it and drank it of one sip. He lighted that necessary cigarette, now watching at the window, immersed in memories, in things that happened… He cried.

In audible voice, he said

“Fuck you Ronnie. Why you said that? Why you opened that wound again?” He sighed deeply, putting the cigarette in his mouth and aspiring the smoke. “I can’t live with you, but I can’t live without you, sadly.” Exhaled the smoke for his mouth. “Why I couldn’t leave you? I’m a masochistic? I love a lot to my offspring? In the very deep inside, I still love you? I don’t know really…” Aspired the smoke of the cigarette again, the last one. The cigarette its too short now. Throwing the cigarette to the floor, he stepped on it, turning it off. Exhaling the smoke, he continued. “You are my life, despite all the events. I give you my life. My love. My “freedom”. I married with you just having 23 years old. I REALLY loved you. Now?” He sighs deeply. “I don’t know. I just know that I don’t hate you”.

He didn’t knew that those words were listened for her, she opened silently the door minutes ago to apologize her  for her words and she stared there, listening.

“John…” she said with tears in her eyes.

He turned his face enough to show her that he noticed her presence, smiling. She entered to the room running. She hugged him. “Sorry John. I- I was impulsive”.

Now watching at the window again, he said “nothing to sorry. It’s okay” and he placed his left hand over her hand that was hugging him from the back. He take that hand and kissed it. He turned to her and hugged her tightly.

“You should knocked that door first, he said, leaving the embrace.

“well, I-” started to say Ronnie, kinda scared.

“hahahaha! Relax! Now come with me and read that things that the people say about us” he said going to sit to his chair again.

“No John.” she said, shaking his head.

“Uh Ron, you’re booooooring! hahahah”

“That aren’t plans for an anniversary” she said, getting closer to him.

Watching at her eyes, he said “and go for a dinner today? We don’t usually go to dinner and you want TODAY? Oh, and I just hope that you didn’t asked to the Father of the parish  to office a Mass for our anniversary! I’ll not go to the church today, and nevermore!” 

She stared in silence, incapable to react. Her plans are discovered.

He watched at her, smiling mischievously. “Ha, Mrs you’re so predictable…” he thought.

She, trying to cover her real intentions, responded “Eeeeeh, no. I didn’t do that! You know me John, hehe… I’ll just cook a special meal.”

“No Ron. I’ll do that, and I promise, will not be cheese on toast” he replied smiling lightning another cigarette.

He had a surprise. But one that just he knew… And eventually Ronnie. Because something like that deserves an adequate celebration. And will be at Deacon style.

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

If you liked this fic, please reblog and leave a comment! (or if you’re shy, a reply, some emojis as response or an ask (could be in anon!)).

-Lily.

[stardancerluv]

Joker & I

Being Joker’s Girl

Joker x Y/N, Joker x Reader

Summary: You spotted Joker dancing down the stairs, and were forever smitten with him...he’s broken out...what will happen now.

You woke up with a start. Your heart was racing and were out of breath. You dreamt that the cops had pinched Joker again. It made you feel lost.

Looking beside you, he was still soundly asleep. He was on his back, his make-up smudged from their passions. You could only imagine how your face looked. Sitting there, the moonlight had crawled in and your eyes adjusted. Now, you could look at him, and not worry about him catching you, you finally took in a few of his scars. They saddened you, during the course of his trial you found out that his mother had let him be abused. What woman could do that?

Feeling thirsty, you carefully got up, grabbing his t-shirt and retrieving a pair of his pajama pants you made it to the kitchen and poured yourself some juice in one of the new cups.

Going back to his room, you closed the door and sat in his chair sipping the juice. He had rolled over to his side, the other night when he had done that he had pulled her close.

“Y/N,” you barely could hear him say your name. You actually had thought, he had just murmured in his deep sleep. “Y/N, where ...?” He asked and patted your side of the mattress.

You put your mug down and went over. “I’m here....I’m here.”

Strands of his hair were in his face as he looked up in the direction of her voice.

In his half sleep cloaked face, he looked so lost. You slipped back out of his pants and crawled back beside him. “There you are.”

He slightly leaned against you as he pulled you close to his side. “I’m here.” You say softly, then you take one of his hands and kiss his palm.

Laying back down, he rested his head on your chest, inhaling deeply all you could smell his special scent, it made you both happy and excited. You let your fingers drift through his strands before exhaustion once again weighed heavily on you and it consumed you.

When you awoke again, thunder erupted in the sky above. A familiar chuckle, filled your ears after. “Morning, Red. It appears a little thunderstorm startles you.”

You rub one your eyes, yawning. “Only because I didn’t expect it.” You smiled as you saw Joker watching you, much like you had the night before.

“That is a good point, to be fair.” He seemed to just seemed to soaking you in. “I have some good news, the boys are not here at the moment, we have the house to ourselves.”

Delight coursed through you. Not till he said it did you realize how much you wanted time with just him, not wanting to worry about any of them.

“So I want you to come with me.”

You stretched under him, then smiled. “Alright, what are we doing?”

“Let’s wash off last night.” He chuckled again, “you’re just like a kitten after sleeping all day.” He smiled.

“Ok.” Getting up, you followed him to the bathroom. A bath was drawn.

Looking in the mirror, you giggled. Your hair was wild like a lion’s mane his makeup, your own makeup was a smear of colors.

Gently, you stepped in and Joker stepped in and sat with on the edge. He grabbed some of the wash. Soon naturally, he washed up your arms and back. You grabbed some soap and washed your face you opened one eye, “did get it all?”

“Look towards me.” Then with gentle hands he washed your face and rinsed it. “There we go, now your hair.” You sighed enjoying his fingers in your hair as he washed and rinsed it.

You looked at him over your shoulder. “Your turn.”

When you came across the first scar you gave it a kiss. “Y/N.” He finally said.

You met his eyes, “The past is where it is. We opened a new chapter in our lives, yesterday. Leave that one closed.”

“It will be hard.” He swallowed. “A half smiled crooked upward. “I will try.”

“Good.”

The water turned green as you washed and rinsed his dark strands. Draining it out, you both grabbed towels. “I am so glad we bought these.” You saw him take out a razor and shaving cream. Kissing his shoulder, you went back to his room and got dressed in the new dress you bought while you were in Gotham’s market enjoying the spoils from the banks. You tidied the blankets and pillows so it looked like a made bed once again. You put out the clothes for him to wear while you went around to but stuff for the hideout.

Drawing your hair up into a ponytail, you stopped by the bathroom to find him shaving the shadow that had darkened his face. “I will make us some breakfast.”

He met your eyes in the mirror and nodded. “Sounds good.”

Distantly, you heard him discuss with someone about meeting at the Galleria in Metropolis. You had only been there once and at night. Would be nice to go there and get out of Gotham.

You went about putting on some coffee, taking out a pot you warmed some milk for the oatmeal he always seemed to have on hand, and brought out a few cookies that the men had not inhaled.

“What is this???” You heard Joker, call outrage filled his voice. “I said, “What is this?”

You turned and squeezed your lips together so not to laugh. He was holding up the baseball cap and the tshirt for the Gotham Gators.

You shrugged, “You need to blend in when we go to the mall.”

His eyes narrowed at you. “Good idea. But I will not like wearing this stuff.” Sometime later he came out in jeans and the items.

“Damn,” Was all you could say, you went over and put the oatmeal and his cup of coffee. “Here you go.”

He shook his head. “How do people wear these?” He pulled off the baseball cap.

You shrugged and sat next to him with your own breakfast.

“Y/N, I was wondering, can you drive?”

You nodded. “My uncle made sure despite living here in Gotham, that I always knew how to take care of myself. So I know how to drive stick and standard. Why?”

Joker, now shrugged. “Maybe you can show me one day.”

****

“What the fuck are you wearing boss?” Paul asked once he twirled a seat around and joined them at the table. He eyed the baseball cap.

Joker, looked at him annoyance splashed across his face. “It’s a disguise.”

“Oh.” He paused and shook his head. “So how are we doing this today?”

Joker, took a deep sip of his coffee. “We’re driving with you to Metropolis. Henry and Michael are bringing their vans for us to fill up. We then come back here.”

Paul, nodded. “That’s solid.”

****

“Ever been to Metropolis boss?”

Joker shook his head. “Never had an interest.”

Paul, looked back at you, the look gave you chills. You still didn’t like what he did to you when he broke out Joker. You were nice to him, since he helped Joker escape.

“Only at night, I drove through it with my uncle for a gig.”

“Well, it’s like Gotham only cleaner.” He shrugged. “Their newspaper is huge there.” He smiled to himself. “One of their reporters is especially nice on the eyes.”

****

Umph, you let out a heavy sigh as you helped pushed in the box for the ottoman then that was followed by boxes for a few tables, a tv, a few bed frames including the one that would be for Joker’s bed. In the other van, it was filled with lamps, chairs, appliances and a few rolled up carpets.

****

You were happy to say that Joker and had let you wander about a bit in doing so you got him some things. Lastly, she grabbed a few things that she could keep there. Those bags you stowed in the back seat where you sat in Paul’s car. When you were done putting the bags there you gasped as you found Joker seating again in the passenger seat. “Are we leaving?” You had not heard him.

“Soon.”

You went over to Joker’s side of the car. You saw him handling a gun. Which he then quickly stowed back in the glove compartment of Paul’s car. You raised, your eyebrows. “Everything ok?”

“Yes.” He took a step so that he right in front of you. Reaching behind you, he pulled out the ponytail. He smiled as your hair fell in waves around your shoulders. “I like your hair down.”

You smiled up at him. “I prefer it that way too.” Bringing a finger under your chin he tilted your face up more, and he gave you a quick kiss.

“If you are ever unhappy, you tell me alright?” You nod. “Good.”

****

You couldn’t get over the long empty stretches of road between Gotham and Metropolis. There were not even farms.

“Paul, can you pull over?”

“Sure thing boss.”

With a rumble and a crunch of gravel the car came to a stop.

“Y/N, why didn’t you put your bags in the trunk?”

You couln’t help but shrug.

“Paul, can you put Y/N’a bags in the trunk?”

Paul, looked at him and then you, he shrugged. You climbed out and helped take out the bags. “Y/N, you are not so bad.” Paul said to you.

“Thank you.” In you he uncoiled a very ill at ease feeling. You didn’t want or need his approval.

A loud crack, made you jump and scream without even thinking. You opened your eyes, which you had not realized you had closed. Your heart was racing. Despite being in that silly t-shirt but the jeans and dark shoes, he looked good. He finally lowered his hand. Then it dawned on you. Looking down, you saw Paul dead at your feet.

“You killed him.” You looked between Paul and Joker.

A wicked grin curled his lips. “I did.” He tucked the gun behind him. “I did not like how he treated you when he broke me out.”

“I didn’t either.” Without thinking, you immediately went along side Paul’s body and pushed it. Pushing it again, it finally rolled on its own accord and disappeared down the embankment.

His grinned widened even more. “Come here kitten.” He beckoned to you, you dusted your hands off and happily went over.

He put his arms around you, “I told you, your mine.” He looked down and wrapped his arms around you. “No one will ever treat you badly ever again.” He crushed his lips into yours then.

@ridiculousnerd

[trying-write-fanfics]

AsheXReader price of war part 10

Catherine was able to track down the Western Church. Though still recovering, Ashe insisted he joined his professor and brother’s executor. The fog was hard to navigate through, but Ashe knew he had to do this.They had to make Lonato rebel against the church against his will or manipulate him. They had to of twisted Chrisphoer’s death in order to get Lonato to raise a rebellion. It wasn’t his fault. He would right the wrongs, and erase Lonato’s shame on his name.

“ Lord Lonato’s blood is on your hands!”

 Catherine and Byleth tried talking to Ashe after the battle, but he was mentally exhausted to form a real conversation. He found more evidence that Lord Lonato was a mere tool in something much greater, but it only left him with more questions.

 Returning to the monastery, he found Y/n returning too. She didn’t go on the mission because she had family matters to attend to on her day off. He didn’t tell her the details of the mission he was going on before she left because if she knew, she would have dropped her family matters for him. It was nice of Catherine and Byleth to let him wander back alone, it gave him time to evaluate his emotions. Yes, he helped take down the western church and avenged Lord Lonato, but it was just a small piece in a larger system he cannot let take over.

“Look at the knight returning from his mission!” Y/n called out from the arena area.

“Yeah, took all weekend.” he called out.

Y/n had a different problem. Her family matters were getting called a talentless warrior, and her father does not even know why he agreed to send his daughter to the officer’s academy. Her father thought he was saying that with care, but no one in the room felt that. She was invited back home to see what progress was made, but when her scarred shoulder was revealed her father exploded in rage. If she was strong, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt, and now someone might not even want to marry her because of her torn up body. Her mother did defend her daughter saying she could open up a clinic if she didn’t want to be a knight or go husband hunting. That didn’t help much, profiting off of the injured and the ill made her father sick to his stomach because the goddess should decide who lives and dies.Her father told her that their sister-in-law is a single male cousin who might be interested in her, but that did not brighten the mood. Y/n was disgusted and full of shame. Her mother told her father to let Y/n graduate because so much can change, they are investing in the possibility of their daughter becoming a knight, maybe even a retainer for prince Dimitri...or wife. It tore down some self-esteem for Y/n. She thought she had made a ton of progress, and she hasn’t died, but that’s not enough, she has to be better than everyone else.

“How was your mission? You look exhausted.” She asked him.

“It was a lot of labor, I’m glad to be back.” he told her. “How were your parent’s?”

“Oh they just missed me, wanted to get a bite to eat together.” she lied. “Oh but I have something for you!” she sang pulling books from her bag. “They’re some fantasy novels I know my family hasn’t touched in years. They were just lying in the house, they all have knight’s tales in them. I figured you would like ‘em.”

It was such a grand gesture.

“Thank you Y/n, but I gotta confess something.”

Her eyes lit up at the words. Maybe he was still uneasy around her and was going to tell her they can’t be friends, she’s a try hard loser, and she’s a terrible student here at the whole academy. 

“Ever since my concussion, I’ve been having a hard time reading.” he told her.

“I can read them to you!” she spat not thinking at all, but was just so happy their friendship wasn’t terminated.

“You will?”

“Yeah it’s not a problem! I’ve already read these books a million times, and my voice is charming.” She said trying to take the flirting down a notch but ended up flirting with herself!

Ashe sighed, which only worried Y/n more. 

“Will you sit on the bench with me?” he asked her.

“Yeah, of course, what’s up?”

Her heart was pounding a million miles an hour. 

“I was hiding what my mission was about. I went with Catherine and Byleth to take down the western church.” he told her. “I killed some people today, and they used Lord Lonato for something bigger that I don’t even understand yet.”

“Ashe...are you okay?”

“I don’t know. The academy is seeming to be a lot more dangerous than I thought.” he told her.

Y/n didn’t come clean about her secret. It was so much more little and pointless compared to his. She just wanted to help her friend in any way shape or form.

“We’ll have each other’s backs, I promise.” she told him. “It’s not like we’re front lines people anyway.”

“I’ve also been thinking about trying to become a wyvern rider. The professor says I have a real talent for it.” He told her.

“Oh that's pretty great, will you take me for a ride sometime?” she asked.

“You can be the first.” he said without thinking, and then realized what he told her.

 It was just so easy to slip and say something like that with her. But she didn’t push away.

“Alright that’s a promise Ashe.” she laughed.

It was just easy to talk to her. She didn’t take things the wrong way, but she also didn’t take his flirting like on a deeper level he would hope. 

 Jealous eyes watched the duo, and wanted to intervene, but decided not to for it would only make a embarrassing fool. The jealous feelings thought they were coming from a place of concern, but there was a deeper meaning that hadn’t been understood yet by the brain of the eyes.

Ashe laid in bed thinking of the western church. It twisted his stomach into knots. Who else are they capable of corrupting? Is it just the western church or a group even bigger with access to all the weakness of nobles and commoners? He worried for Y/n and her family, they’re not a major house in the kingdom, if they fell to that evil group’s will, the church would kill them all. What side would Y/n take? Would they use magic to manipulate her? He looked at the books she gifted him and felt a little relief. He did like her, and wanted to protect her from such dangers. They will have each other’s back won’t they. No doubt. He didn’t fall for her for her looks, she was gorgeous, but he didn’t fall for her first sight. It would be silly, a noble he knew nothing about other than how pretty she is. No he fell for her with everything that had happened. The time she held his hand when professor Jerizta was being a total demon ghost, their late night training sessions. He thought back at the moment she held him when he was injured. How she hummed and told him things were going to be okay. Her hand pressed against his cheek. It was too much to think about in bed, he rolled over, tossed and turned.

“What are you doing out so late?” Felix asked Y/n as she snuck out of her room.

“Why do you care? Are you the dorm police?” She asked.

“Normally I have to yell at Sylvain for this kind of behavior, but you-”

“Well if I never do this maybe you shouldn’t scold me, it’s a one time thing.” She cut him off.

“You should really leave the monastery, go and find a husband.”

“First Ingrid and now me, what the hell Felix? What is your issue?” she asked him.

“Things are looking bad here and I don’t see them getting any better anytime soon. It’s best if you don’t get caught up in all of that. You’re not one who can stand bloodshed.”

“And how do you get to judge that?”

“I’m there on the battlefield with you. Save yourself the trouble.” He told her. “I already know what your father is up to.”

“Well, I can only get better with time Felix.” She told him. “Good night.”

“Your room is the-” “I’m sleeping with the wolves tonight. They’ll devour any fears I have about the battlefield. Wouldn’t that be nice so you won’t have to spend your nights telling me and Ingrid to go find a husband!” she yelled from the stairs.

She made her way to Ashe’s door in her long nightgown and candle. She didn’t let Felix’s words haunt her, but she can only assume that Felix got a letter from her parents telling him it would be a good idea to take their daughter out on a date. She grimaced at the thought of more embarrassing letters from her parents floating around, waiting to be used as black mail. She knocked on the door a couple times, and Ashe was surprised to find her so late in the night.

“What are you doing here so late?”

“I told you I was gonna read to you.”

“This late.”

“You don’t even sleep!”

He let her in. She wasn’t wrong. He picked out a book for her to read to him. She told him once more she read that one enough times, she knows the story by heart. She set the candle on the nightstand. He laid in bed wondering where she was going to sit.

“Scoot over.” She told him, sitting right next to him in his own single person bed.

But he complied. It was awkward as first listening to her read since they were both sitting up. He noticed she was cold, so he put the blanket over both of them which only made his heart beat faster. She kept reading to him though. She would make silly voices for merchants and ogrs that came into the story. He relaxed more as the situation seemed to normal itself out. Without thinking he placed his head on her stomach, and even had his arm over her waist. When he realized what he had done, it was too late to really react. She was still enjoying reading to him and he wouldn't want to dwindle the spark she had going on. She also didn’t stop him or seemed uncomfortable. His actions did make him hyper aware of the situation. She adjusted her arm, and placed her hand on his back. It was all so much. He didn’t know if he thought of the word in his head he would be able to handle it. They were cuddling! In HIS BED. IN THE EYES OF SOTHIS. He tried staying as still as he possibly could to draw attention to himself. She smelled nice, the fabric of her nightgown was soft, it was all intoxicating, she was right there! She can’t see how he’s internally reacting to the situation! He wouldn’t be able to talk without sounding like a banshee. 

 At some point he realized she’d stopped reading. He propped himself up on his hands, removing himself off her stomach. She’d fell asleep, IN HIS BED! WITH HER ARM WRAPPED AROUND HIM! His mind raced with what to do? Does he sleep in her bed? Does he wake her up? What if she gets caught leaving his room, surely she would get in trouble. He laid back in the bed, facing her, unable to come to a conclusion. She rolled over, and her face landed in his chest. Maybe his next action was selfish, but he blew out the candle and put the book on the floor. He let Y/n sleep in his chest, because she let him use her stomach as a pillow.

 The next morning the duo woke up around the same time. Ashe jolted away from her realizing what he did, but she awoke casually.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” she yawned.

“No, no, it's fine, you were doing something nice for me.” he told her.

“How am I supposed to leave though? I’m in my pajamas, and my dorm is on the second floor.” she whined.

“I have an idea.”

 The idea was he would give her his spare academy uniform so she could go back to his dorm. If anyone asks why she was there, she would say she was stopping by early in the morning to study together before the library opened. The plan did end up succeeding. 

“Here are your clothes back good sir” she was being dramatic.

“Thanks.” he laughed.

“I should be thanking you, you really saved my ass.” she told him.

“You were just taking care of me.” he told her.

“Well, I had fun too. I haven’t read those stories in awhile.” she told him

 She also had fun? This crush was going to be the death of him.

[peacelovekiszka]

50 questions you’ve never been asked before.

Thanks for tagging me @sunshinesinhereyes :)

1. what is the colour of your hairbrush?

i only have a comb but it’s hot pink.

2. a food you never eat?

onions are a nope unless it’s completely hidden and i can’t feel the texture on my teeth i am sorry

3. are you typically too warm or too cold?

too warm bc i’m faaaat.

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago?

doing some pencil drawings for college.

5. what is your favourite candy bar?

any cadbury’s chocolate bar.

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event?

i’ve been to two of louis tomlinson’s charity football events. does that count? there were some professionals playing......

7. what is the last thing you said out loud?

fuck off (it was at trump suggesting people INJECT THEMSELVES WITH DISINFECTANT TO CURE COVID-19)

8. what is your favourite ice cream?

mint chocolate chip

9. what was the last thing you had to drink?

water

10. do you like your wallet?

i like it but i could use a bigger one bc i’m a change hoarder and there’s just coins at the bottom of my bag bc my wallet/purse keeps popping open.

11. what was the last thing you ate?

crisps

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

no, there’s no point in getting new clothes atm, no one’s going to see them lmao

13. the last sporting event you watched?

i sometimes watch gymnastics and figure skating comps on youtube, so probably one of those.

14. what is your favourite flavour of popcorn?

sweet and salty

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to?

my mum

16. ever go camping?

i went once but i was forced bc i was a kid.

17. do you take vitamins?

yeah, a multivitamin a day.

18. do you go to church every sunday?

ahahahahhahaha

19. do you have a tan?

no, i don’t think i’ve ever been tan. i just burn.

20. do you prefer chinese food or pizza?

pizza

21. do you drink your soda with a straw?

yes but i use metal straws, don’t worry.

22. what colour socks do you usually wear?

i literally put on whatever socks are there, they rarely match.

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit?

can’t drive.

24. what terrifies you?

accidentally putting someone else in danger or missing warning signs that a someone is in trouble; the idea of knowing i could have done something would kill me.

25. look to your left, what do you see?

my pencil drawings and watercolour paintings.

26. what chore do you hate?

dishes - soggy food? puuuuke.

27. what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

that monty python bit about the australian wine.

28. what’s your favourite soda?

diet coke

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru?

if i get fast food, it’ll be from a local chip shop or something - no drive-thrus.

30. who’s the last person you talked to?

my dad

31. favourite cut of beef?

i’m vegetarian. i also couldn’t tell you even if i wasn’t lmao

32. last song you listened to?

7 rings by ariana grande - it was playing on the tv ok

33. last book you read?

mercury and me

34. favourite day of the week?

saturday

35. can you say the alphabet backwards?

i get to V and then lose it.

36. how do you like your coffee?

i don’t like coffee.

37. favourite pair of shoes?

black converse

38. at what time do you normally go to bed?

between 9pm and 11pm depending on how tired i am.

39. at what time do you normally get up?

between 8am and 10am. depends on when i went to sleep.

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets?

sunsets, i’m almost never awake for sunrise.

41. how many blankets are on your bed?

two

42. describe your kitchen plates?

just white.

43. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage?

nope. alcohol is not for me.

44. do you play cards?

does snap count lmao

45. what colour is your car?

i don’t haaave a car.

46. can you change a tire?

no

47. what is your favourite state/province?

favourite what now?

48. favourite job you’ve ever had?

this is embarrassing but i’ve never had a job because of my mental illnesses.

49. how did you get your biggest scar?

i was a toddler, running around at nursery. i tripped, fell and hit my head on the corner of a table.

50. what did you do today that made someone else happy?

i told my dad i love him before he left for work.

tagging: anyone who wants to do this bc i don’t want to annoy people who have already done it.

[knifeshoeoreofight]

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Sidney’s wedding day dawns iron grey, the sky heavy and threatening. Far out on the horizon, there are already misty curtains of rain painting the sea underneath the thickest cloud banks, as the storm drags itself closer and closer to land.

Sidney tries not to be susceptible to belief in omens and ill portents, but he cannot help but wish that it was sunny and mild today. As Jake fusses with the last touches to his wedding attire, Sidney comforts himself with the thought that it’s not unfitting that as he arrived in a storm, so shall Evgeni be joined to this place, and to Sidney, in a storm as well.

As Sidney descends the stairs he can see that Evgeni is already waiting in the foyer. He’s pacing a little, cutting a striking figure in the new bottle green coat and snowy white linen shirt and cravat Sidney had insisted he accept. He’d sent him to his own tailor’s shop in Truro with Letang, who had an eye for these things, and Letang had outdone himself. The green of the coat looks well against Evgeni’s pale skin and and brown hair, and he looks like a gentleman from the toes of his polished boots, to his close-fitting breeches, to his beautifully embroidered waistcoat. Letang told Sidney that it was the only article of clothing that Evgeni had chosen explicitly for himself, without self-effacing reluctance.

If he wants it. Sidney will buy him a hundred waistcoats, each more brilliantly decorated than the last. Sidney himself was unable to resist a lilac waistcoat under a more subdued grey coat. He enjoys the color, and seldom has the excuse or opportunity to wear it.

Evgeni spots him when he reaches the bottom of the stairs. His shoulders relax and he smiles at Sidney. It relieves Sidney more than he can say to see it. The cold weight of guilt has not left him entirely since the moment he first claimed Evgeni as his fiancé.

“Are you still willing?” Sidney has to ask, for his own peace of mind.

Evgeni’s brow furrows. “You?”

“Of course,” Sidney says quietly. Evgeni’s eyes search his face, but finally he nods.

“Yes,” he says, and ducks his head, pink blooming on his cheeks. It is an arresting sight, and Sidney, to his chagrin, gapes at him until broken from his reverie by the noisy arrival of Baronet Letang and his family.

Letang gives Sidney a long, assessing look as Evgeni goes to say hello to Alex and little Victoria. Sidney knows his friend likes Evgeni but is not certain that Sidney is being wise.

Sidney gives him a firm nod. His friend shrugs, and says nothing more.

***

It is strange to be in the church on a weekday. Their words echo against the stone as young Father Murray gravely shakes their hands and precedes them to the front of the church. They’re early, but Julie and Caro are already there, as well as a goodly number of those servants and villagers not needed in preparing the wedding breakfast.

He feels a pang at the absence of his sister. There had not been time, however, for her to make the journey, and truthfully, he wants to wait until all is said and done before he tells her of it. Maybe she will forgive him for it in time.

The importance of their haste is underscored by the late arrival of Magistrate Bettman. Uninvited, he nonetheless sits himself in a back pew to scowl at the proceedings. Sidney sees Evgeni’s eyes dart nervously to Bettman, and he squeezes his soon-to-be husband’s hands. When Evgeni looks at him, Sidney leans close and says, too low for anyone else to hear: “I promise you. I will not let him touch you.”

Evgeni closes his eyes for a moment, but nods.

The sun comes out from behind the clouds just as the vicar calls out the words, “dearly beloved.”

Later, what Sidney remembers most from the ceremony is that soft morning light, falling in shafts front the clerestory windows, and odd little details, like how the sun made a glowing shell of one of Evgeni’s ears, and threw glimmering reflections from the font onto the grey stone walls.

Evgeni’s hands tremble a little in his own, or maybe Sidney’s hands tremble, he isn’t sure.

Father Murray pronounces them married in the eyes of God, and Sidney blinks away sudden tears from some indescribable emotion. His wedding. His husband. He’d tried to imagine this day in the past but those boyish fancies have nothing in common with the reality: Evgeni’s dark eyes fixed on his, the soft, hesitant brush of his lips when the vicar tells them that they may kiss each other.

They sign the register, Sidney’s narrow, looping script above Evgeni’s blocky Cyrillic.

“Congratulations, Lord Crosby, Lord Evgeni,” Father Murray says, and Sidney has to laugh softly at the startled look on Evgeni’s face.

“Had you forgotten that you’d gain a title today, my dear?” Sidney says. His face flushes— the endearment had slipped out without his permission, quite naturally. For Evgeni is already dear to him.

Evgeni shakes his head, wonder writ across his expressive face. “I’m forget.” He shakes his head again, and offers his arm to Sidney. Sidney takes it.

“It’s going to be very noisy in a moment, are you ready?” he warns, and they step outside into the late morning chill as cheers break out from their assembled people, and rice is flung with cheerful abandon into their faces by the children.

Sidney had elected to walk to the church, in concession to Evgeni’s discomfort with horses and his own dislike of the fanfare and ostentation of a coach. It was not a far distance, but their way back leads them through the village, where everyone is assembled in gleeful enjoyment of their holiday, all work in the mines and fields halted in honor of the day.

The wedding party is met with shouts and cheers. Every woman and girl in the village, it feels, wants to come curtsy at them and extend their well-wishes, every man and boy to earnestly doff their caps to Sidney and “‘is new Lordship.”

They shake hands and bow and accept congratulations nearly all the way to the gates of Ydhyn Dhu, where a hubbub of a different sort awaits them.

Long tables have been laid, decorated with fragrant fir boughs and and bright sprigs of holly. If they’d been married only a month or two from now there might have been early spring flowers but Sidney finds he likes the greenery just as much.

A busy swirl of guests and servants enliven the ofttimes quiet rooms of the great house, with Mrs. Bullano presiding over all. Sidney had told her to try and enjoy herself but she remains convinced some calamity will befall the family silver and hovers vigilantly, keeping a weather eye on the serving maids as they work.  

Dumo has outdone himself, somehow managing a wedding cake of sorts in so short a time, white with costly sugar on the outside and rich with dried fruit and brandy on the inside. He’d been cautioning everyone all morning that it wouldn't keep like a proper wedding cake, since he hadn’t had the time for the usual days and days of tending and soaking it in spirits.

“We will just have to enjoy it all today, Dumo, and give out any remaining to our tenants,” Sidney had placated him.

Sidney can hardly believe it, sometime later, that he’s sitting at the head of his table with his husband next to him. He keeps finding himself staring at Evgeni’s profile- his strong nose and generous mouth, his sharp jaw, the tiny scar high on his cheekbone.

Caro has to say his name a few times to get his attention at one point, resulting in laughter and much sly teasing about how taken he is with his bridegroom. Sidney turns scarlet and attempts to move the conversation on as quickly as possible. He cannot allow their perceptive teasing to make Evgeni uncomfortable.

“So, Evgeni,”Julie says, leaning forward, eyes sparkling wickedly. “Tell me. What is your favorite thing about your husband?”

“Is it his a-” Letang gets out before his wife elbows him to remind him of his manners.

Evgeni is blushing now as well, but he doesn’t duck his head or mumble anything noncommittal. He turns in his seat to regard Sidney steadily.

“Heart,” his says simply, and Sidney’s friends coo at them.

But Evgeni isn’t done. “Never meet anyone like Sidney,” he continues, drawing himself up as if to defend Sidney from the teasing. “Where I’m come from, no дворянин like him. They use-- “

He pauses, and turns to Sid, hand patting at his own waistcoat over his heart. “What’s part you can’t see, vicar talks about?”

“A soul?”

He turns back to the others, tone deep and serious. “The знать use people bodies and souls like wood.” He makes a motion like throwing kindling on flames. ”On a fire.” He shakes his head. “Sidney is different. He’s take care. Like whole village is his family.”

He reaches over and takes Sidney’s hand where it lies on the table. Gazing at him, he says firmly,”Want to be good family for him, too.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment, then Caro says, “Here, here. To Lord Crosby and Lord Evgeni, may your family be happy and blessed indeed.” There are sincere murmurs of agreement from all. Sidney cannot speak, his heart too painfully full.

***

It feels like the sky darkens and the day dwindles much faster than Sidney is ready for. He nurses a glass of port in the library with the other gentlemen until Letang kicks at his chair and jerks his head towards Evgeni.

“You should see to your husband, before he falls asleep right here.”

Sidney ignores the ribald waggling of Letang’s eyebrows and looks over at his husband. Evgeni is leaning against the high side of the wingback chair he’s sitting in, eyelids drooping as he gazes into the fire. His glass of Madeira looks ready to slip from his fingers.

Sidney feels a fresh stab of guilt join the rest that has taken up permanent residence in his stomach. It has been a long day. Heaven knows he feels as exhausted as Evgeni looks.

He stands, and rests a hand on Evgeni’s shoulder. “It’s late,” he says quietly, and Evgeni starts, turning wide, velvet-dark eyes to Sidney’s face. He follows Sidney from the room in silence.

***

Jake is waiting outside the door to Sidney’s private rooms, knuckling his eyes and yawning. Sidney sends him away to bed, and they go in alone.

After Sidney ushers Evgeni inside, he turns to close the door. When he turns back around, Evgeni has not moved, so close Sidney can smell his sandalwood shaving soap.

He reaches for Sidney’s hands, raising them to his lips and pressing a warm, lingering kiss to his fingers. Shame and heat flare together in Sidney’s middle. He wants that soft mouth all over his body, but he would never be able to forgive himself if he allows Evgeni to do this for him. Out of some sense of gratefulness or duty.

“Good day,” Evgeni says softly. He slides down one of Sidney’s cuffs and Sidney has to bite his lip to hold in a wanton sound as Evgeni kisses the sensitive skin of his wrist. “Nice party.”

“Yes,” Sidney manages, hoping his want isn’t conveyed in his voice. “Evgeni.”

Evgeni hums, fiddling with Sidney’s cuff and eying his cravat as if he’s strategizing at a chess board.

“Evgeni.” Sidney says, and something in his tone makes Evgeni’s hands still, and his gaze meet Sidney’s.

“I don’t. I do not expect this of you. Your-- favors, I mean. I would not. Tonight we must share a room so that the marriage is considered legitimate and unable to be annulled, but. You will not have to in future.”

Evgeni’s hands fall away. “You...don’t want?” He asks.

“I—“ Sidney shakes his head. What he wants is immaterial. His wants have been indulged enough.

Evgeni nods sharply and turns, striding to the glass to start tugging at his cravat like it will strangle him if he doesn’t get it off immediately.

“Here, let me,” Sidney says, and moves to untie it for him. He makes the mistake of looking up into Evgeni’s face. His eyes are intense as they bore into Sidney and his mouth is set in a firm line. Can he tell how badly Sidney wants him? Sidney wills his hands not to tremble as he unties the white linen from around Evgeni’s neck, his eyes not to linger on the sweet hollow at the base of his throat that he wants to—

No.

“I would never do anything to hurt you,” he promises, hoping Evgeni believes him.

“Can’t hurt me,” Evgeni says shortly, and Sidney shakes his head. The type of power he has over Evgeni has nothing to do with physical strength, but of birthright and wealth. And, even, Evgeni’s own sense of fealty or honor.

“Yes,” Evgeni says darkly after a long moment, as Sidney moves to the many tiny buttons of his fancy waistcoat. “Maybe, you can.”

Sidney masks a flinch. But it’s good that Evgeni is being reasonable.

“As I said, I will strive with everything in my power to see that you are protected.”

Even from myself, he thinks.

“Thank you, мой господин” Evgeni says woodenly, and the stiff address falls upon Sidney’s heart like ice.

“I said, you can call me Sidney,”

Evgeni just nods, and Sidney leaves him to undress the rest of the way himself.

As he rinses his face at the washstand. Sidney catches sight of Evgeni in the mirror, the fine cloth of his nightshirt made sheer in front of the firelight.The breadth of his shoulders, the graceful lines of his torso, the startlingly sweet curve of his ass. It’s almost worse this way than seeing him naked. He turns to hang something or other over a chair and Sidney’s breath catches at the pronounced swell of—

He tears his eyes away and splashes his face again. Enough.

Sid banks the fire, and goes about the room extinguishing all the candles his servants had lit in an endearing but unnecessary effort to make the room softly lit for a wedding night spent in the more traditional way.

Evgeni is hovering near the bed, glancing between it and Sidney. It pains Sidney to see. Only one night, he tells himself. Evgeni may not like it but it has to be done.

“What is it?” Sidney asks, keeping his voice low, as though soothing a nervous horse.

Evgeni’s face is still set blankly as he motions to the bed. “Which side you like?”

Oh. Sidney hasn’t gotten to the point of considering the practical details of two people sleeping in the same bed.

“Left?” He indicates the side nearest the door. Evgeni nods, then turns down the coverlet on the right. He curls up, surprisingly small for so large a man, with his back to Sidney, as far to the right as possible.

With a painful throbbing of his heart, Sidney gets into bed as well, doing his best not to disturb his husband. He takes his cue from Evgeni, and turns away.

He can still feel Evgeni’s warmth at his back. Evgeni’s breathing is slow, and Sidney can hear the moment it deepens into the unconscious rhythm of sleep.

He closes his eyes, but it is a long, long time before sleep claims him, too. Just before it does, he dimly hears the storm out to sea make good on its threats, heavy rain beginning to pour outside the curtained windows as it makes landfall.

Part 7

[dxlansfxck]

Saints & Sins [G.D] - Part 1

Summary: there's nothing that pisses Y/N off more than her own life. her family is highly religious, wealthy and nothing she'd consider fun. her surrounding is boring, but once the new guy, grayson, decides to sit right next to her, Y/N enters a new world filled with romance & fun. little did she know that this kind of fun had his shadow side to it.

Warnings: DRUG ABUSE!, this story is all about drugs, sex & a toxic relationship, if you don’t like stuff like that, you probably shouldn’t read this.

00 - Prologue

„I don’t get it, y/n! What did we do to you? How could you end up like this?”, her mother broke down in tears while looking down at her dirty, probably disgusting smelling self, “You’re the worst that could have happened to our family! Just because you needed to fall in love with this Grayson guy. The devil has sent him to test you, but you failed. You sinned just to receive a bit of pleasure instead of listening to your god!” She’s talking herself into some kind of rage but she isn’t even listening, ignoring her own mother like she did the past few months.

God here, god there. That’s all her family talks about, this weird guy that seems to live in the sky and watches us living. But how could she think him or Jesus when her mind is full of other things. Like her next shot. “Y/N, I can’t believe it! You’re not even listening to your own mother. I need to call the church so they can send father Louis to us, he needs to clean your mind! He needs to get those demons out of your thoughts.”

Suddenly, she starts praying, which Y/N’s opportunity to get out of here. She slowly walks back into her room, ignoring the cold floor on her naked feet, closes the door and smirks at the beautiful boy that’s already laying in her dirty bed. “Took you long, babe. Did your mother tell you I’m the devil’s son again? That I came straight from hell to ruin your life? Why don’t you listen to her, angel? Why won’t you leave me for your own sake?”, his fingers trail over her lips, making her already weak to the bones. Grayson chuckles, his still very muscular chest rising. His voice is full of sarcasm while his lips form the devilish grin that made her fall for him long time ago. Meanwhile, he takes the old, rusty utensils from the nightstand and slowly pours the white powder on top of the spoon. As soon as she sees his actions, her mind goes crazy and her tiny, destroyed body starts to shake from the sudden pain she feels. But Grayson takes his time preparing his own shot, holds the lighter under the spoon painfully slow.

“For fucks sake, hurry!”, her raspy voice breaks, but she bets he understood what she was saying, he just didn’t want to listen. “Gray, I can’t wait anymore!” Her cold hands were starting to shake so badly, that she was sure she couldn’t even prepare her own shot anymore but she knew Grayson, he wouldn’t do it for her, the were far past this point and he didn’t even wanted her to start this anyway. “If you’ve got enough time to prepare it that slowly, hand it over! I need it now! You know that once I’m on turkey I can’t do it myself. GIVE IT TO ME!”, she tries to rip the improvised belt out of his hand, but he just pushes her away with his foot before ramming the needle in his veins. A few seconds later, his eyes were already closing while a soft smile appears on his lips.

“Fucking son of a bitch”, she mostly mutters to herself before pulling the needle out of his arm and starts preparing her own shot of happiness. She didn’t even bother to clean the needle, if they didn’t get ill from sharing by now, it’ll probably never happen.

Her hands won’t stop shaking while cooking the substance on the dirty spoon and it gets even worse while she was trying to get it into the needle. She nearly dropped everything while searching for a good enough vein, trying not to shoot into the scar tissue, but after a few misplaced shots, she finally gets a good one that beams her somewhere else before falling asleep on Grayson’s chest.

01 - Grayson Bailey Dolan

Her life is boring. Not interesting at all. She’s been in this Christian boarding school ever since she was 6. Now she had to change to a Christian college and to be honest: it really fucking sucks.

She needs to take religion classes every day, visit the college  church every Sunday and her parents seem to be the most boring humans on earth.

“Y/N, c’mon, we’re coming late to Biology!”

Have I already mentioned that her classmates suck as well? She’s never seen someone coming late to class, it’s always been her and always her. By her, I mean Y/N Y/L/N. Ugh, she knows it could’ve been worse, because there’s a guy sitting in front of her called Thaddeus, I mean… You probably know what I mean.

After lunch – strictly vegetarian, of course – and without any motivation left, she attempted the last class of the day. Her uniform was already loose because she had opened the first two buttons of her blouse, the tie hanging loosely around her neck. Which college had uniforms anyway? This was a fucking cult.

“Ms. Y/L/N, could you please put your feet back on the holy ground instead of the table? Or do you want to clean it afterwards?” Y/N huffs in annoyance, placing her feet back in front of her. Instead of mocking the teacher, she gets interrupted by the door swinging open loudly. None of those fuckers would come late to class, but nobody heard of a new student joining them. The guy that walks in seemed a bit older, he was taller and… built. He was a giant, broad shoulders, thick thighs and you could tell through his uniform shirt, that his chest was phenomenal.

“My lovely students, this is Grayson Bailey Dolan. His parents moved here from New Jersey, please don’t be rude to him! I bet he’d be glad to know all of you. Grayson Bailey, why don’t you tell the class more about yourself?”

Grayson Bailey Dolan, as the teacher told them, didn’t seem to be very affected by anything. He studies every single face, which gives Y/N the opportunity to study his. A mop of bleached hair, narrowed eyebrows and brown eyes that had the same annoyed look as hers. His plump lips were pressed into a line, probably hiding a rude commentary to his introduction.

“It’s Grayson. And I don’t see the point in introducing myself, wouldn’t want to make friends anyway.” His deep voice didn’t surprise her at all, while he begins walking towards the only empty chair – which of course led to be the one next to Y/N. She fought for this place for about two years, she would never share it. Not with him, not with anyone. “I want to sit alone”, she spat. “And I don’t care.”

“Alright, the seat next to Ms Y/L/N is empty as you already saw. Now, tell us about your hobbies, your favorite book, don’t be shy!”, their teacher still tries to make him talk, but Grayson just huffs in annoyance. “No hobbies, I don’t read, just look at the pictures, and for that I prefer the dirty ones, you know?”

“Oh, okay, well… Anyways, we’re going to start with our next topic which will be DNS and genetics. I’ll show you a little short film and you have to take some notes so we can discuss it later on. Have fun with our little friend Geni!”

With that, the teacher started some stupid clip of an alien called Geni that wants to teach genetics while being funny. Didn’t work out that well.

“Hey, is she always like that? She seems to be a bit sick in the head.” Grayson’s voice drags Y/N out of her thoughts, and she was surprised that he decided to talk to her. She shrugs her shoulders while muttering a quick “dunno”. She feels his eyes burning through her body while he was obviously checking her out, so she kept starring at him. “Is there something interesting to see? You should focus on Geni, our little friend, not my unbuttoned blouse.” With that, she continued studying his face, his jawline was very strong in contrast to his hallowed cheeks. His eyes seem to be tired because they’ve always been kind of closed while his gaze is starring somewhere else.

Just in the moment he was about to open his mouth, the teacher screams “Well that was fun! Never been so amused while learning important lections! Ha, Geni is a genius. I hoped you wrote down anything important so we can discuss them in the next lesson. Have a night evening and I hope everyone will be there to cheer on our hockey team, they have their first official match today!”

 Soon, the classroom is empty, and everyone is inside their dorms. Y/N changed into something more comfy before sitting down on her desk while painting with her new oil colors.

“Wow, damn! This is sick! Looks like some kind of a trip. Do you draw often? I mean, of course you do, it looks so fucking good!” Y/N got so terrified that she nearly fell out of her chair, then she realized it was Grayson standing right next to her, his eyes on the piece of paper in front of her.

“Ehm, hi Grayson? Nice to see you, I guess, but that’s my room?” “Hi, cool room. I like your style, fits mine”, he points to her pair of joggers while opening and unbuttoning his shirt. Then he sits down on the bed which hasn’t had an owner. Yet.

“Anyways, this college sucks. I mean, it really bloody sucks. Teacher and students. Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you, but you know how it is. Everyone seems to be manipulated by god, it’s really scary. Well, I live here now, but I gotta go. See you later, alligator.”

He was soon gone and Y/N was more than confused. She was a girl, living in a dorm, not knowing there was any chance to have a boy as a roommate. Of course, sometimes boyfriend and girlfriend were able to share a room, but most of the time, it was strictly separated. Shrugging the thought off, Y/N prepared her stuff for a quick shower, still thinking about Grayson Bailey Dolan and the impact he’s going to have on her life.

 The next morning already starts with a surprise, it seems like Grayson Dolan hasn’t been in there the entire night. His suitcase and most of his clothes are still spread across his bed. This boy was such a mystery.

Not even an hour later, Y/N finds herself in the first class of the day, not listening to what the teacher said, drawing in her notebook again. “Do you always draw that stuff? I mean, yesterday, today, literally all the time. Not that it bothers me, I really like it. But I wanna know what’s in your head.” She was kinda pissed about Grayson’s presence that she couldn’t ever answer his question. “Oh c’mon, don’t act like you’re listening to that bullshit this nun is talking about. And since you’re a student here, you should be drawing churches or the holy ghost or I don’t even know. But for sure not that”, he points to the burning people she drew, burning in the purgatory and her cheeks got instant red.

“Where were you last night? When I woke up I found your suitcase on your bed, just like you left it yesterday. Listen, those professors are so fucking strict, I don’t want to lose this place, okay? And one of their simplest punishments is scrubbing the church floor – which I don’t want to do either because there will be 20 Jesus figures watching you. And..” “Y/L/N, Dolan! This lesson is more precious than your conversation, seems like I have to inform both of your parents. Detention, both of you!” Their fat, disusting teacher interrupts them.

After 4 more hours of maths and religion, Y/N practically runs into her room, Grayson Dolan right behind her. “Y/N, why aren’t you talking to me? Are you angry ‘cause of the detention? Listen, I’m kinda sorry, but it’ll be just two hours of sitting there, it could be worse. And why is the ugly rat calling our parents? Y/L/N are you even listening?” She feels Grayson’s large hand on her shoulder, but shrugs it off. “Hm? Yeah, sure I am.” “You’re weird, but oh well. Are you hungry? Should we head out to Subway or McDonalds? We still have a bit of time left before detention starts and I’m starving.”

The girl is looking up to him, confusion written on her face. “Leaving? The only time you’re allowed to leave is between 3 and 7. Lunch is in the canteen, but the food is vegetarian.”

Grayson’s eyes widen in shock. “Vegetarian? Seriously? Dude, this is torture! How are you even alive?” “Dunno, never had meat, never wanted to, it’s dead animals. That’s disgusting. There’s plants for a reason, y’know?” “Sick”, Grayson nods. “Hey, Y/N! Why can’t ants go to church? ‘cause they’re insects. In-sects! Understand?”, he laughs so hard that he needed to sit down on his bed, holding his stomach. Y/N on the other hand opened the bible on her desk. “Haha, funny”, she mumbled and began to write down the daily phrases they needed to hand in the next day.

“Have you ever drunk alcohol? Or smoked? Oh, you hesitated, you’re a literal virgin. In everything! We need to change that, but first: lunch!” He drags her by her tiny hands and almost runs into the dining hall. “What’s that smell?”, he scrunches his nose, looking confused. “I don’t even know, it always smells like cabbage, but there’s never cabbage in the meals. You need to get the vegetable burger, but never the vegetable sausages. Everything with noodles or potatoes is fine, salad is okay but the soups are disgusting, got it? We can go to the city later on and find something better for you.” They both decided on getting the burger and while Y/N bites into it, Grayson takes a bite of the fries, then scrunches his nose again and adds half a bottle of ketchup onto them.

“I can show you around then, but there aren’t any cool stores to buy clothes, I usually order them once I’m home”, Y/N managed to speak while chewing her last bite of burger. “You’re pretty cool, angel. Never thought I could meet someone I’d like in here.”  

[derpyslurpy-da-derp-master]

All the personal asks plz

Alrighty then!

1. Any scars?

Mhm, pretty much all the scars I have are burns. One is from burning the side of my arm on an iron my mom had  standing upright that I brushed against trying to reach something on the counter behind it and I’ve got one or two other scars from my culinary class on my hands from trying to put a tray in the oven and bumping it on the rungs above the ones I was putting it on. I burnt my hand day one of actually cooking. Yes I’m a disaster.

2. Self harmed?

Absolutely not. One, I’m too scared of pain, and two, I have uh… An unpleasant history involving someone else threatening self harm to make me do what they wanted, so… It’s a really sore spot for me.

3. Crush?

I honestly have no idea.

4. Kissed anyone?

Nope

5. Coke or Pepsi?

Neither they make me physically ill

6. Someone you hate?

There’s a LOT of assholes at my school but the person I hate the most is probably my dad for reasons.

7. Best Friends?

Mhm! I’ve got a handful on this site but my IRL best friend is @theansweris-a. She doesn’t really get on tumblr anymore but if you’re reading this I love you friendo and have a good day! :D

8. Have you ever done alcohol or drugs?

hahaha fuCK NO. I’d rather not get addicted to something that can and will kill me and throw my money at people to sustain it. If someone offered me either I’d probably flip them off whilst slowly backing up and getting tf out of there because NO.

9. What’s your dream job?

Author/Illustrator with some VA work and Video Game directing on the side.

10. Ever been in love?

I have. It was with someone I didn’t have a chance with and who would be an absolutely awful lover to me since we weren’t compatible emotion-wise so I let it go. It was hard, but I did it.

11. Last time you cried?

Last Sunday trying to explain to my mom why our preacher and the church we go to has completely fallen out of my favor for it’s very loud blatant ‘LGBT people are bad abortion is evil insert other white conservative stuff here’ ‘cause she doesn’t know I’m LGBT+ (and it’s going to stay that way) and I was trying to explain to her why I would never say invite my LGBT friends to church because they would be mercilessly persecuted by people who call themselves followers of God then spit in his eye by doing the exact opposite of everything he’s asked of them. Yes I still feel really strongly about this.

12. Favorite color?

Cyan!

13. Height?

How coincidence, I just got it measured today! 5′6, FINALLY OFFICIALLY TALLER THEN MY MOM MUHAHAHAHAHA

14. Birthday?

November 17th!

15. Eye color?

Milk chocolately-brown

16. Hair color?

Dark brown

17. What do you love?

this is so open ended hjkfjfjkhgkjh okay then I love girls, video games, anime, writing, drawing, reading, and animals.

18. Obsession?

My top 3 in order of obsession; Kill La Kill, RWBY, and Kingdom Hearts.

19. If you had one wish, what would it be?

For every single illness, disease, syndrome, disorder, and so on to have a cure. From Cancer to Asthma. Both because I have so many incurable diseases/disorders and because I know there are people out there who have things so much worse than me in that department.

20. Do you love someone?

I love all my mutals, friends, and most of my family including extended family. 

21. Kiss or hug?

I’ve never been kissed so I don’t know anything about how that would be so I’d say hug because I love hugs!

22. Nicknames people call you?

Derpy, Slurpy, D-Slur, Resident Cinnamon Roll (That’s my actual nickname on a Revue Starlight discord)

23. Favorite song?

this is like asking me to pick my favorite child uhhhhh… This Life Is Mine by Jeff Williams, it just means a lot to me.

24. Favorite band?

i know no bands by name

25. Worst thing that has ever happened to you?

….Okay, uh, this is gonna be really hard to decide because a LOT of bad things have happened to me. I’ll go with the more physical choice because I’d rather not dump too much of my emotional baggage onto yall. One time I was being prepped for surgery and they needed to get the IV in. (for the record I’m shaking pretty badly right now from thinking about this) They had to stab my arm with what they called a ‘Bee sting’ (it wasn’t a bee sting it goes almost down to the bone) that had numbing stuff in it and they were trying to find a vein they could put my IV in but they couldn’t find one (okay now i’m typing really fast so I don’t have to think about this for long) and they kept stabbing my arm over and over again. The thing is I have a serious phobia of needles that sends me into panic attacks, I’ll go lightheaded I’ll lose my hearing and so on. So I was trying to put a brave face on despite my parents not even being there but they would. not. stop. They didn’t give me a break. It was one stab then another then another then another. I was having a full blown panic attack, I was almost crying. Then they seemed to get it. They left me for a bit and my parents came in. My arm started swelling. They HADNT got it. My arm was being filled with whatever my IV was. They came back in with the beesting. They started stabbing me again but on the other arm. I couldn’t keep a brave face anymore after thinking they were finally done. I started to cry and sob and the panic attack I had that day was the single worst I have ever had. It got worse. They missed a vein entirely and instead hit a bundle of nerves. My hand started involuntarily twitching as pain unlike any I’ve ever felt before or until now wracked my arm. I had actual trauma from this, the night after the surgery I kept feeling ghost pains of the stabs in my arms, I had to sleep on my stomach with my arms wrapped around my front just to make them go away. I’m still extremely traumatized of this to this day. I never want to have surgery again. I never want an IV again. 

Okay that got away from me there I’m sorry I kinda was having a panic attack while writing that. Anyways moving on.

26. Best thing that has ever happened to you?

This is gonna sound cheesy but meeting @theansweris-a. She’s the sweetest and kindest person I have ever met in my entire life and I feel so incredibly lucky to call her my friend, though knowing her she’ll see this and reply with ‘No U’ because we always end up in a shouting match of ‘YOU ARE A WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING’ ‘NO YOU’RE A WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING’ 

27. Something you would change about yourself?

I definitely would lose weight. Not because of societies bullshit but because I legitimately want to lose weight so I can actually get strong and build up some muscle, I WANT TO BE ABLE TO OPEN GATORADE BOTTLES GODDAMNIT

28. Ever dated someone?

Nope, I’m closeted and have no interest in even pretending I’m straight by dating a guy, I mean I know some genuinely nice guys (all of them dorks) but they’re all just my friends though they are massive goofballs and I love them very much. (Entirely platonically)

29. Worst mistake?

I… Don’t think you guys wanna know that. It’s nothing bad its just depressing and I don’t wanna be more depressing then I already have been.

30. Watch the movie or read the book?

Depends on which is better, like I’d rather watch the Chronicles of Narnia than read the books because the books are honestly terrible but I’d rather read Percy Jackson than watch the movie because the movies are incredibly unfaithful to the books.

31. Ever had a heartbreak?

Yeah… 

32. Favorite show?

Kill La Kill!

33. Best day of your life?

My cheesiness never ceases but the first time I actually hung out with @theansweris-a IRL at the mall. I remember being SO excited for it but also nervous that how easily we talk to each other wouldn’t translate into real life and I remember spotting her walking up and practically shouting her name before running up and giving her a big ol’ hug whilst crying happy tears (I know i’m sappy shut up) and then when we were let loose to walk around we quickly discovered that we clicked almost immediately and incredibly well it was just the best thing ever. Like, in that one day alone we spent six hours in that mall just chatting and buying stuff and having fun and we left the mall with like three different inside jokes despite it being our first time meeting in person since we first met. Hi my name is Derpy and I’m a big ol’ sap.

34. Any talents?

I’m pretty good at writing, I can type really fast, and I can play the harmonica.

35. Do you wish you could ever start over?

Absolutely not. Things are the way they are for a reason, and even though I’ve been through a LOT it’s because of all that that I’m the person I am today and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.

36. Any bad habits?

Yeah, I’m a nail biter.

37. Ever had a near death experience?

Yes actually, when I was 3 or 4 we took a plane to California to visit some relatives and I almost walked out of the air hatch one the way out, I remember this vividly even though it was a long time ago. If it wasn’t for the flight attendant grabbing me before I fell out, I wouldn’t be here today.

38. Someone I can tell anything to?

@theansweris-a and @my-words-are-light, they’re both really good listeners and have helped me through a lot of stuff.

39. Ever lost a loved one?

My Great Grandpa Ritch died shortly after I was born, there’s a lot of pictures of him smiling and holding me while in a hospital bed and hooked up to oxygen.

40. Do you believe in love?

Oh absolutely, 100%. I mean if you know me you already know that I have just ABSURD amounts of love in my heart and I genuinely believe that it exists.

41. Someone you hate/Dislike?

Wasn’t this already a question?

42. Are you okay?

Mostly, yeah. I have some stuff to work on but I’m honestly at the best i’ve ever been!

43. Relationship status?

I’m a Single Pringle

[angelsarts]

I wanna know more about your Death and Life AU OCs and BNHA OC!

Death and Life AU:

Ezekiel - 

He/Him || Virgo || 27 || Pansexual

Ezekiel is a higher up arch angel who is in charge of the Japanese district of heaven. He personally takes part in training new angels into carrying out their duties to protect and guide the living on a pure life and to avoid letting them into the hands of hell. Ezekiel is a proud and determined man with a usual sexy smirk and a kimono undone to see his chest however when it comes to training the newbies of heaven he always ends up drawing the short straws and getting the people who never gets the hang of it or messing around. That's why 80% of the training involves him face palming or dramatically sighing in resignation. So you could say he's the hot dad that has given up on his children-

Ezekiel had died early in his 20's due to an accident. The "royalty" of Japan at the time were holding an open event for the public to visit, it was mainly for socialising and making connections. He had attended mainly for the free food, but during an interaction with a member of royalty an unstable chandelier snapped and fell from the ceiling. Ezekiel had enough time to push the person he was conversing with out the way but not quick enough for him to avoid getting hit. The man was crushed and sent to heaven as a result for saving a life.

Nolan -

Half demon | Unknown age | 5"7

Nolan was born as a half breed, his mother had a romance with a high ranking demon that resulted in an unwanted pregnancy. His father wanted nothing to do with it, demanded she were to get rid of Nolan or he would do it for her, if it wasn't for his mother fleeing from her country and learning to make charms to keep the father away then chances are he wouldn't be around. Unfortunately his kind is very rarely accepted by neither humans or demons, perhaps that's why he became the edgy angry man he is today but despite this he cherished the love that his mother had given him and the friendship that Emmie-Lou, a fellow demon offered. Emmie Lou understood Nolan's feelings for she was a succubus that left her legacy behind to live with a human whom also accepted Nolan as a friend, because of this after his mothers passing he wasn't alone and for that he is grateful. If anything, Nolan likes the human world much more than that of the demons realm which he happened to visit out of curiosity about who his father was, let us just say he regretted his choice and received those scars on his face.

Shin -

Shrine spirit | Pan | 300+ 

Shin has been a shrine spirit since he could remember , at first he never took his job particularly seriously and more than often played pranks on those who say prayers but leave no offerings. He still plays pranks but 300 or so years later? He's become more mature. The shrine woman he had been so fond of had passed away and so until someone takes up her role, it was up to him to write down each prayer made, to make talismans and clean the shrine to it's best standards on top of guarding it from evil. Now he has what people would call the qualities of a man, and he takes each prayer to heart trying to help those who make them in any way that he can manage. It warms his heart particularly to see that even in modern ages people still come to the shrine even if it isn't in masses anymore. He's a curious being though, wondering what's beyond the shrine, what he has missed over the hundreds of years. It's not all bad though, he often shows himself to those who visit and bring offerings regularly as well as children, the affection that they show him and their thankful attitude more than makes up for being alone at other times not to mention he loves to watch the snow fall. Making snowmen was one of the first thing he and the shrine lady had done together when he arrived and so he makes it a tradition to make one each winter. When the days are quiet and the visitors are low he makes the extra charms to leave outside as well taking well earned naps.

Rigger -

Male | Taurus | 36 | Bisexual Rigger was a French Plague doctor who died in his 30's due to being struck around the head down an alley, reasons to why he was hit was unknown. However Rigger didn't completely die, his good services had been rewarded, a reaper offered his life to be immortal on the condition that instead of saving lives he were to take them - only when their time had come of course. As a result of coming back to life, Riggers left eye became blind, the scars across his face a mark of his contract to become a living reaper. Rigger took this offer, being bought back to life to live and breath as a 39 year old forever. He takes his job seriously, taking down sinners with no mercy, being kind and delicate with children too ill to carry on living, careful and gentle with the elderly. Each person he treats how they should be, although he has got stuck in cases where the elderly with poor sight mistake him for their grandchild, he once was mistaken by an elderly lady and he hadn't had the heart to tell her no - spent over a year pretending to be 'Tommy' the sweet boy who hold her ball of wool while she knits and shows off ugly sweaters to the rest of the oldies at the care home. It took another reaper to take her soul. Rigger is generally very grumpy to normal people, although when he's grumpy the man is still kind and gentle. He secretly adores flowers, children and doesn't actually mind wearing ugly sweaters or hanging out with the elderly, he likes their stories and the sweet attitudes they have. The elderly and flowers are probably the only ones who have seen him look happy instead of the plain old grumpy guy face.

BNHA AU:

Elissa - 

Female - Bisexual - 19

Licensed hero - Quirk: environment/material manipulation

Lady manipulation or rather Elissa is a licensed hero that graduated from UA High, her quirk is the ability to manipulate the environment and material around her whether she makes something grow larger or change shape and form. The marks on her arms to neck glow whenever she activates her quirk. She can make the ground move, and turn it into an arch or even a sculpture, she can make anything into weapons or protection. However the larger the manipulation the shorter the time she can keep control over it. Once her time runs out it can take 10 - 30 minutes before she can use the same material or environment again . She works under a not particularly well known hero agency with a partner known as animorph, a man with the quirk that lets him turn into animals though he often favours the wolf. She's a rising hero in the world and she actually see's Aizawa as her hero/inspiration.

After a particular fight with a villain that she once knew as a friend, her entire image soon changed due to the villain's confrontational words getting into her mind. Now she keeps her hair short and changed her uniform and her hero name. Elissa tries her best to cut the ties with the villain particularly when they had once captured her heart in the past and though it is a struggle, Animorph is always there to help and support. The woman is a very happy person that no matter what happens always wears a smile and insists that no matter how bad things are she's always hopeful and grateful for what she has. Of course she's insecure about her looks or that she'll never do a good enough job to inspire kids she'll still put all her effort in, when she's not on duty she likes to try different ethnic foods, read manga or show off her art to her pet chicken Diego. She also has a long term affection for Bakugou, not that she would ever dare act on such a thing without reciprocation, for now she enjoys their explosive arguments.

I wrote heck loads ;; I apologise if it’s too much information!