#only ever looking upon them with sadness for what they were even before she knew how Witches were made

[tothepointofinsanity]

what are your thoughts on Madoka and Sayaka's relationship? I always thought it was underrated for how complex and tragic it is.

Madoka and Sayaka's relationship function similarly to that of a knight and a princess, so both their friendship or couple pairing are interesting to me. It seems to be intentional that Sayaka was crafted with a knight motif in mind to click with Madoka's vulnerability. The tragedy is that Sayaka was way too young and inexperienced to be shouldering such expectations in a friendship. Taking up the role of a protector at every turn because she wanted to protect everyone has always been a contributing factor to how fast Sayaka burned out.

Contrarily, Madoka's struggle with her own helplessness throughout the show was also part of the reason why Sayaka said a lot of terrible thing to her, but deeply regretted her actions to the point where she succumbed to Witching out away from Madoka. Madoka, at least in this "final" timeline, was not there to see her own childhood best friend change into something else. To, in a way, "die", and be reborn as the same monster that all magical girls were hunting after in a frenzy. Homura was right that Sayaka brings Madoka grief — it seems that in almost timeline, since Sayaka becomes a Witch as long as she becomes a magical girl unlike Mami or Kyoko, Sayaka is a consistent source of Madoka's grief. Whenever Madoka becomes a magical girl, then, her aspirations are based on Sayaka's sacrifice and ideals, except Madoka actually has the power to "save everyone". I believe Madoka loved Sayaka as Sayaka may not have been an "effective" magical girl, but she was the one who was willing to sacrifice her soul for her ideals, regardless of how naïve they were. To Madoka, who was so ensnared by her sense of uselessness, Sayaka was the closest thing to an idol or a star for the courage required to be a magical girl. Sayaka's desire to make the world a safer and justified place for people was so inspiring to Madoka that even when Madoka becomes Kriemhild Gretchen, the Witch's whole gimmick is "creating heaven on earth, a Witch content only if there is no more grief in existence". A prospect deeply held onto by Madoka that even Gretchen embodies it.

It's probably why Madoka's wish to save all magical girls would definitely sound equally impossible to he audience and the incubators, but Madoka herself says, "If someone says it's wrong to hope, I will tell them that they're wrong every time." Sayaka was often called foolish for her ideals and hopes, and Madoka was the only other person aside from Kyoko who understands Sayaka's struggles so much that she outright tells people that Sayaka was never wrong — this is how Madoka protects Sayaka. Madoka would never want anyone to say any of the magical girls' wishes were wrong or foolish. It was how Sayaka also found her peace at the end of the show: to be understood and not viewed as an object that would eventually be replaced in the cycle of magical girls and Witches.

Madoka and Sayaka eventually learned how to protect each other. Sayaka doesn't need to suffer from her own overbearing expectations anymore, and Madoka can finally be something even more to protect her angel: A God.

[oneeyedlove]

Ash heart.

summary | The blissful months you and Aemond shared after your secret marriage come to an abrupt end as the news of his kinslaying reach your ears.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x niece!oc

word count | 2.8 k

note | I am new to writing and very unsure about this tbh. Also, english is not my first language so bear with me. Any thoughts are appreciated!

Find part 2 here

---

Princess Aelora Velaryon, second born child to Rhaenyra Targaryen, was perfectly aware of the divide in her family for as long as she could remember. Her mother's claim to the iron throne questioned at any opportunity, the bastardy of her and her siblings birth constantly whispered about the realm, not to mention the animosity displayed between the queen consort and the queen to be. She wasn't blind to it in any shape or form.

Nevertheless, Aelora ignored her instincts when it came to Prince Aemond. The pair held a soft spot for each other ever since they were children, the brown haired girl defending the boy from her brother's and uncle's cruel jests and him opening himself up to her like he never had before, not even to his mother. But even their childish affections couldn't stand the test that the incident brought upon them. The loss of an eye molded Aemond into a resentful man and Aelora stood by her family. Their feelings turned to ash upon a dragon's ire.

Or so was thought.

Despite years that lacked contact betwixt the two sides of House Targaryen, the arrival of Aelora and her family at King's Landing shifted a previously undisturbed passion. Aemond's heart ached in her presence but the prince disguised himself through vile insults and meaningless threats. He could never hurt her, not like she hurt him. The brown haired princess did not feel guilt for choosing her own blood over him all those years ago, after all he had said and done monstrosities she never thought her once sweet uncle capable of. But she did feel sad for him, he lost the most that night. All the anger that resided in the surface could not stand the longing she felt.

After Rhaenyra and Daemon decided it was best to reside in the Red Keep due to her grandsire's deteriorating health, Aelora and Aemond grew closer in their twisted relationship, challenging each other and throwing insults was almost a synchronized dance for the pair. Although appearances showed disdain and anger between uncle and niece, none knew that secret encounters were also their routine. Stolen kisses in dark corridors, comforting looks in public, late night adventures through flea bottom and passionate sex in empty chambers immersed their strained relationship.

The prince and princess knew their love was either destined to mending the bonds their family broke or destroying them completely. And against their better judgment, they got married in secrecy, the only witness being Haelena. They shared their vows under the moonlight in a traditional Valyrian wedding ceremony, like their ancestors. Delusional as the King was due to his illness, he was the only other family member to approve of their union, their parents and siblings confirmed their fears and voiced their disapproval loudly. Aelora's side of the family went as far as demanding her move back to Dragonstone alongside them but she denied the request.

Aemond was now her husband, her moon, her prince.

She was sure she would make peace with her parents and siblings soon, for there was no way of breaking the couple apart.

But that was before the King's death.

Before Aegon was crowned.

Before she realized she needed to choose between green and black.

...

"Aemond, issa hūra (My moon), please listen." Her pleads echoed through their chambers as her husband refused to look at her.

"I must fly to Dragonstone. I need to see my mother and make things right."

"Issa vēzos (My sun), are you aware of what your status will become if you indeed fly to meet Rhaenyra? You would come to be a traitor to the Realm. You must understand it, you would be imprisoned and killed upon your return to King's Landing." Aemond finally spoke, turning his head towards her, his eyes glistening with the light emanating from the thunderstorm outside the window.

"I would lose you." His expression was a sorrowful one as he whispered the words, as if he would conjure them to reality if he spoke clearly.

Aelora let out a long breath and walked towards him, holding onto his arms that now stood at her waist. Her gaze flickered from his chest up to his eye, tiredness emanating from the woman's form as she continued to quarrel with her husband.

"Then what must I be? We cannot refrain from participating in this war, Aemond. You have already taken your place by your brother, making yourself into one of his trusted dragon riders and ally. I am not fit to be both wife of Prince Aemond of the Greens and daughter of The Black Queen."

He placed a strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke, her words were true but he could not bear to be of opposing sides with his one true love. All they had gone through to achieve this could not have been in vain, their marriage couldn't be just another tragedy in the midst of this war, he wouldn't let it.

"My mother must know I have not betrayed her." Aelora continued her sentence frantically.

"She will not be the first to spill blood, I am certain of it. You could convince Aegon not to do so either, we can try to stop the real war before its control slips from our fingers. There must be a way to mend things."

"You are optimistic, my darling. I only wished we hadn't got this far." He said as he got closer and touched her forehead with his.

"I will do my duty as commanded by the King. I shall fly to Storm's End tonight and secure the Baratheon's allegiance to the crown, it will be my last action before we discuss our plans. I promise you, we will find a way out of this."

As she opened her eyes to look at him, anguish poured out of her gaze. Aelora's heart held such love for Aemond that she could feel it tightening at the thought of losing him, as if two ropes were tugging at it from opposite directions.

"Issi īlon vēdros naejot jorrāelagon isse se midst hen vīlībāzma? (Are we mad to love in the midst of war?)" She asked.

"Lo ziry iksos, nyke'll sagon hakossiarzy ondoso aōha paktot. Syt sir se forever. (If it is, I'll be insane by your side. For now and forever.)" With his answer, he took the sides of her head with his hands and kissed her deeply.

It was a passionate kiss, both of them holding each other close as if they would vanish at any moment. Aemond was determined not to lose the thing he held dearest to anyone nor anything in the chaos about to engulf them. No, his sun was his light, she gave him purpose, she gave him devotion, she gave him life. He would fight his way through the Seven Hells for her. He would burn the world to ash.

Certain as her lover was, Aelora dreaded the future as he broke their embrace. He lingered at the link of their hands as he made his way towards the door, but left her even so. The sound of heavy wood clanking ringed in her head, unable to suppress the growing pit inside her.

"Gods be good."

They wouldn't.

...

Aemond's return was filled with misery. His temper, his damned temper, conquered his thoughts completely and the consequences would drown him. He had killed Prince Lucerys. Her favorite brother. He ensured catastrophe over them. He broke his promise.

The prince's mind raced as he sat in the coucil room, it had been almost two hours since he told them what had transpired. Otto and Alicent spent every breath of theirs berating him whilst Aegon congratulated and rejoiced at the news. He had no care for any of their words, but he deeply feared hers. He was sure all of the qualities she bestowed upon him vanished. He was a weak man. Pathetic and evil. He should have stayed away for he never deserved her. Aelora's reaction would destroy him.

"How are we to tell her?" His mother's despair could be seen in her eyes as she spoke.

"I will." That was the only phrase the one eyed prince uttered since he disclosed the events of what had happened.

Aemond stood from his seat and walked away, ignoring the pleads for him to stay and discuss what he was to do. He had no plan to disguise his actions to his wife, she deserved better and he wouldn't pretend to be worthy of sympathy. The promise he made was shattered. Tragedy was about to struck over their marriage and he had no one to blame but himself. As he made his way through Maegor's Holdfast he could hear parts of the whispers spoken about him.

"His dragon ate him."

"Revenge for his eye."

"Kinslayer."

Standing in front of the same doors that witnessed their love from the beginning, Aemond opened them ready for the end. And yet he wasn't prepared for the sight before him.

Their chambers were wrecked. The sheets that used to embrace the couple in their cherished nights were ripped to shreds at the foot of the bed. The dressing table where she readied herself as he watched was tumbled to the side, its mirror shattered into a million pieces. The matching set of chairs and table where they used to have their meals with laughter and love were scattered across the room. The candles that allowed him to study her figure during the countless times they shared intimacies were blown out, the only light being the one emanating from the fireplace.

And there she was, on her knees as she watched the fire. Her beautiful brown locks disheveled in the braids coming undone atop her head, her golden dress was crinkled and burned at the hem. The princess held a small paper on her right hand, the other one placed on the stone floor.

She already knew.

"Aelora..." Aemond tried to speak but his words were buried by guilt.

The woman before him turned her head in an ungodly slow speed, clutching the letter in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, the tracks of dried tears still on her face. Yet, she displayed no sadness in her expression, only a dragon's rage.

"You." She growled, her tone making a shiver run down his spine.

"My love, ple-" He started.

Despite Aemond's efforts to plead with his beloved, he knew no words would be able to repair what he had destroyed. The once familiar pet name left a bittersweet taste in his mouth but it was nothing compared to the sourness it brought to her heart.

"Do not address me that way." Her words were low but stabbed him in the chest all the same. He watched as she got herself up from the floor, her fury burning like wildfire.

The princess could not believe what she had read in her stepfather's letter an hour ago, Daemon had to be mistaken. Her husband had promised to avoid the carnage of war, he wouldn't have been so disloyal. She knew Aemond had arrived, for she saw Vhagar flying over the Red Keep, and assumed he had been discussing Lord Borros' response with the council, but she had grown far too anxious as time passed. It had taken too long for it to be a mere coincidence. Lucerys had been killed by her husband. The man whom she loved with all her being, for whom she defied her own flesh and blood, had proven himself the beast all feared him to be. As the tears fell from her face and destruction noises flooded her senses, her love turned to ash.

"You killed him!" Aelora yelled as she strode up to him and pushed his chest back, he made no move to stop her.

"I did." He looked down at her as he spoke.

"You murdered an innocent child!" She mustered all her strength to slap him this time, her chin raising in a defying manner.

"I did."

"Have you no shame? No regret?" She pushed him to the side as she screamed, making him stumble.

Aelora could not believe him. He had broken his promise, broken her family, broken her heart and yet he found it beneath himself to explain anything to her? All the resentment and rage he harbored for Luke had been stronger than his love for her, betrayal falling upon the pair over a childish mistake. His stoic expression mirrored his soul, Aemond had no guilt to convey.

"Do your depraved actions give you pride? Do you relish in your revenge?" She shouted till her throat hurt. He couldn't do this to her, to wreck world and then leave her stranded. No, she would hurt him, she needed to.

"You disgust me. Murderer!" She spat those words as she hit his chest again, receiving no reaction from him other than his eye staring ah the darkess that consumed the chamber.

"Liar!" She pushed him again.

"Cunt" And again.

"Kinslayer!" And again.

Finally Aemond looked at her, the insult landing deeper than her other words. That was his title now. He was everything she claimed him to be and worse, a man to be hated and struck until the end of his days.

"Fight back you traitor!" She swung at him in all the ways she could to no avail, he only stared at her with his arms behind his back as they slowly moved across the room.

"Too righteous to hit a lady, are you Aemond?" Aelora stopped shouting but her voice remained as piercing as a spear.

"I could never hurt you." He answered, his breath shaking.

She could only stare at him in response, a twisted smirk and a scoff the only acknowledgment se could form. The princess scanned him with her eyes until she found his dagger at his waist. In one swift move, she grabbed the blade and threw him onto the wall, placing it on his throat.

"Hypocrisy runs deep in your blood, doesn't it? Worse than your mother, you murder Lucerys and yet claim not to maim me. You think yourself so pure, a true perfect prince of the realm. A Strong bastard's life is nothing compared to yours, is it? I should slice your neck from ear to ear and watch as life flees from your body, see if red stains your honor." She whispered whilst looking into his eye, he had no fear but sadness and regret in his expression.

The prince's death would be a mercy he longed for, the thought of life with only her hatred to call his wasn't worth living. Knowing her light was never to shine upon him again, Aemond was ready to be drowned by darkness once more. His lip trembled as he looked for words, any words, to ask her for his end.

"How could I ever had loved you?" Tears began to form in Aelora's eyes, she couldn't contain them anymore. The pain she felt in her core was almost tangible, how could a love like theirs have now become such a wound? A cut that would never heal, destined be with her forever.

"I was such a fool! To think a twisted soul like yourself would be capable of anything but wrath and violence!" She let the translucent pearls of water run down her face and threw his head against the stone wall as she ripped the side of his eyepatch with the dagger.

Aemond was in the verge of tears himself, watching as the woman he loves so deeply tear him to shreds. He could withstand any torture, suffer any injury and it would never compare to the torment of her loathing. His sapphire eye was exposed now, a drop of blood dripping from the side of his face where the blade touched his skin.

"There. Let everyone see the monster you truly are, inside and out." She backed away from him slowly, her voice trembling just as her legs did.

"Nyke jāhor va moriot jorrāelagon ao, issa vēzos. (I will always love you, my sun.)" The one eyed prince whispered as he leaned into the wall, a single teardrop fell from his eye as he accepted defeat.

With a loud thud, Aelora burst through the chamber's door, leaving Aemond behind. He fell to the ground as he cried, but he knew it wasn't over. As he heard the screech of her dragon echoing through the skies, he knew they would meet again on the battlefield, fighting for different sides. Yet there would be no need for war to ruin them, he already did.

Maybe fate had decided this would be their path all along.

For her blood was black and his was green.

[httpswritings]

if you were my little girl: the series part 3

alexia putellas x child!reader; this story contains mentions of traumatic experiences as drug addiction, child abuse and similar topics. don't read it if you find those topics triggering.

The Starting Point

Alexia became a familiar face at your house. Everything seemed picture perfect – you, her, and sometimes even her sister Alba, playing dolls and coloring in your room. Alba, with her natural gift for connecting with children, clicked with you instantly. Her calm demeanor and genuine care were a soothing balm for the anxieties you craved relief from.

One day, with your parents momentarily out and you engrossed in a game with Alba, Alexia found herself drawn to a stack of photo albums on the coffee table. Flipping through them, a pang of bittersweet feeling

washed over her. There you were, a tiny bundle of joy with a gap-toothed grin in your baby photos. In others, you were surrounded by family, seemingly bursting with infectious laughter. It was a stark contrast to the subdued mood you'd settled into lately.

Alba returned with you, both of you chattering excitedly about the upcoming trip to the park. You gravitated towards Alba, seeking her comforting presence. Alexia, although happy for the connection, felt a gnawing unease. She needed to understand the reason behind your sudden withdrawal, the reason that left a shadow on your once-radiant smile.

Alexia entered your room.

She knew this was wrong but she needed to find something that would hint the reason behind your behavior.

Having discussed your situation with Alba, Alexia knew the answer might lie hidden in your artwork. Children, Alba had explained, often expressed their truest selves through their drawings, a language unburdened by the need to filter emotions.

Alexia examined the ones you had on your wall.

Alexia studied the drawings displayed on the wall. Friends, football – a testament to your passions – and a surprising number featuring Alexia herself. In these drawings, you had bestowed upon her crowns, angel wings, and an ever-present smile. In stark contrast, there were only one of your family. The difference was a glaring red flag.

Time was running out before you and Alba returned. With a surge of urgency, Alexia knelt by your desk, rifling through your belongings. Her heart quickened when she found a drawing tucked away, partially obscured by notebooks. It depicted your family at a birthday celebration. Everyone seemed joyful, except for you and your grandmother.

Before you could return, Alexia snapped a picture of the drawing, the click a jarring note in the otherwise playful atmosphere. "Ale, Alba told me she got permission to go to the park! Can we?" you asked, your voice filled with innocent hope.

"No, amor," Alexia replied, forcing a smile. "Your parents said we have to stay here. They'll be back soon." Her heart ached for the disappointment clouding your eyes. Yet, the drawing offered a glimmer of hope, a clue to the unspoken pain hidden beneath your brave facade. The path forward wouldn't be easy, but at least now, Alexia had a starting point.

You pouted, pulling yourself closer to Alba, and resigned yourself knowing fun was about to be over.

Alba The Artist

Alexia made Alba go to Alexia's house to discuss the drawing.

Your family: you parents and your uncles were drawn with big smiles and dancing.

On the other hand, your grandmother was sitting on a corner, with an angry face, and you were on the middle.

Your figure was bigger than everyone's else, and you had a sad face.

“This is very weird. What has her grandma had to do with her? Everyone's happy except them.”

Alba wasn't been as helpful as Alexia thought she would be.

Both of them accorded to keep looking for signs in your room.

Now, it'lbe Alba's turn.

Alexia had to go away for like a week.

You hated when Alexia had to travel, because that meant that you wouldn't see her in at least a few days.

Alba had managed to be alone in your room as you were in the bathroom.

Hidden away, she saw the drawing, but with two new additions. Beside you, smiling brightly, was Alexia, whispering, "I'm here." Next to her, an unfinished figure – maybe Alba herself – surrounded by hearts. Alba sent a photo to Alexia, and a tear slipped down her cheek. It was clear you loved Alexia dearly.

When you returned from the bathroom, Alba was almost out of breath after doing everything so quickly.

She had a idea, suggesting to make a shared drawing.

You agreed eagerly.

Alba was very kind and sweet, and she always smelled nicely.

You drew some stars but as you peeked over Alba's part, you noticed that she was drawing you, loving how smiley she had drawn you, finally someone who noticed your smile.

“My parents always say that I should smile more. You should show them your drawing!"

As expected, Alba was noting in her mind everything you were telling her.

You drew Alba with long hair, with shiny clothes and with a big heart on her dress.

“Why don't we draw Ale?”

When Alba mentioned Alexia, your most genuine smile bloomed. "I love her, and I love you."

"We love you too, mi amor." It was a world of just the three of you, a secret language of love.

You drew Alexia exactly the same way as Alba, and she laughed.

“We seem like twins.”

“You almost are! You have the same laughter. Sometimes I can't figure out who's the one laughing!”

“Why don't we draw your parents? So we can show them our drawing?”

“No.”

You didn't even look at Alba, as you were very focused on painting flowers around Alexia's figure, so you missed her puzzled face.

“Why not, little one?”

“This is our drawing. Only Alexia, me and you.”

Alba wanted to understand further, but this was yours, a private conversation on paper. Alba understood and respected your boundaries and you were thankful for it.

“Should we call Ale so we can show her our piece of art?”

As Alexia appeared on the phone screen, you showed off your masterpiece.

She showered you with praise, something your parents rarely did. You used to draw them too, but their lack of interest made you lose heart. Now, you had your own way of expressing yourself.

Matilda

Alexia was finally back.

She had brought you some gifts, like she always did when she travelled.

You were at home with her and your parents.

At first, they were happy about your relationship with Alexia, but envy was starting to make its way to them.

The abundance of Alexia-themed artwork in your room, the practiced calligraphy spelling out her name on every blank sheet, the constant stream of gifts – it all pricked at them. "She's not your mother," they'd mutter under their breath. The way you'd dash to the door whenever Alexia arrived fueled their silent resentment.

But Alexia offered things they no longer did – undivided attention, playful indulgence, a helping hand with schoolwork. It was a convenient arrangement, as long as she did it, your parents didn't have to.

Homework complete, Alexia suggested a movie night. You squealed for your favorite, "Matilda." Curled up on the couch, your head resting on Alexia's lap, her fingers gently stroking your hair, a sense of deep security washed over you.

The credits of "Matilda" rolled, the final triumphant scene a fitting end to your perfect evening. With a contented sigh, you snuggled deeper into Alexia's lap. You weren't quite asleep, but the warmth of her embrace, the safe haven she always created, pulled you into a state of serene comfort.

Alexia watched, a smile gracing her lips as your breathing softened. Witnessing your relaxed state, a pang of guilt stabbed at her heart. Wishing nothing more than to bottle this feeling of peace for you every day, she knew the reality was far more complex.

There were some lines she couldn't cross.

There were lines she couldn't cross. You were a child, and she, an adult entrusted with your well-being. Sharing a bed, no matter how innocent, could be misinterpreted. It could send the wrong message, plant a seed of doubt that could taint your perception of all adults.

A child is very vulnerable and genuine, so Alexia knew she had to protect you from any harmful adult. Protecting your innocence was paramount. She was the one adult you trusted, and that trust needed to be unwavering. Sharing confidential information, forming a bond built on honesty, that was how she'd safeguard you from potential predators.

That's why she started educating you on the dangers a kid could face.

She was a trustable adult, so you heard her very attentive, and agreed to tell her anything that could put you in danger.

Who To Trust

A shadow of concern crossed your face as thoughts of the upcoming family reunion swirled in your head. You knew the drill – alcohol, fights, a tense atmosphere that made your skin crawl. Should you tell Alexia? Would she intervene, potentially put herself at risk?

Your grandmother was there, but being raised as the way women should behave in the Spain's 40s, she never said a word.

You knew she wouldn't stand up for you, wouldn't break the silence.

The need to confide in Alexia burned bright, but the opportunity seemed out of reach.

As if they knew, you parents were always at home, so you didn't have the possibility of being alone with her.

You already knew how to write, but taking into consideration the complexity of the situation, you didn't know where to start.

[waywardxrhea]

Matthew

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 2.5k

In the midst of your mourning of Matt after the events of Midland Circle, you decide to visit Clinton Church to feel closer to him. 

Content: angst and lots of it, canon typical violence, guns, language (in a church, whoops), mental breakdown. 

Now playing: Matthew by Hey Violet

“Matt… He didn’t make it out before the building collapsed. I’m sorry…”

Those words had haunted you every day for months now. You remembered feeling your whole world crashing down around you as your heart shattered into a million little pieces. Your knees had gone numb and you collapsed into Karen’s arms as she told you the horrible news. You had felt pain before, sure, but the worst of it didn’t even touch that of what you felt when you were faced with the fact that Matt had been in the middle of a building collapse and they hadn’t even been able to recover his body. 

The cloud of insurmountable grief hung low around you ever since, and today its burden felt heavier than normal. So you decided to go to the one place you felt you could be close to Matt: Clinton Church. You hadn’t been there since the funeral and as you walked from the train station, you were tormented with the memory of the night Matt left. 

You were in the middle of cooking dinner for you and Matt when he entered the apartment in a rush, tossing his glasses and cane away quickly before following them with his suit jacket and tie. Sensing the urgency in the way he moved toward the closet to grab his Daredevil suit, you placed the spoon on its rest and asked tentatively, “Everything okay?” 

Matt shook his head as he began haphazardly stripping out of his court clothes, telling you, “The Hand. We’re taking them down tonight.”

Closing your eyes and letting out a quiet sigh, you said, “Matt, please. Please don’t go, I… I just don’t have a good feeling about this. Ever since you told me about what’s been going on with them I’ve been having these nightmares and-”

You were cut off by Matt placing a gentle kiss to your lips, one of his hands holding your chin in place as he did. When he pulled away and released his grip on you, he kissed your cheek before saying, “I know, sweetheart. And I’m sorry, but I really have to go. This could be the only opportunity we get to take them down and I’ll be damned if they keep on ruining lives because I didn’t step in to stop them. I can get through to Elektra. And when I do, this will all be over with.”

You opened your mouth to protest once more, but knew that it would fall upon deaf ears because once Matt had his mind set on something there was no stopping him. It was something you both admired and were terrified of. So you shut your mouth once more and nodded, trying desperately to hold back the sob building in your chest as your emotions began to well up in your eyes. 

Matt was suited up in record time and gave you a quick hug before heading up the stairs that would take him to the rooftop access. He was nearly at the door before you could even clear your throat and calm your shallow breathing enough to whisper, “I love you. Be safe.” You weren’t even sure he heard it as he threw open the door and flew out of it, not acknowledging the statement in his state of hypervigilance on the sounds of the city. 

Walking into the church felt odd and you offered your best tight-lipped smile to a kind looking man who held the door open for you on his way out. As you walked into the beautiful sanctuary, a new wave of emotions hit you and as your breathing became shallow, you felt light headed and nauseous. Your mind was bombarded with flashes of that night. Of screaming your throat raw in both anger and sadness. Of the funeral. Of the image from your nightmares that had plagued you ever since: Matt’s bloodied and lifeless body. 

A sharp gasp left your chest as a hand was placed on your shoulder and startled you back into reality where you realized you were now leaning most of your body weight onto the back of a pew, trying not to collapse. Through a feeling of cotton in your ears, you heard your name being called softly and you looked up to see the kind eyes of Father Lantom looking back at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, worry evident in his voice. 

Are you okay? 

The stupid question everyone kept asking you. Of course you weren’t okay. In what version of reality would you be okay after losing Matt? You couldn’t tell most people what really happened, your story always landing on the lie that he had been in the financial building on late night business for the firm when it collapsed. It felt like a disservice to Matt’s memory to lie about what he was really doing in there trying to save lives, but it was what you had promised him when he first revealed to you that he was Daredevil: you weren’t to tell a soul. So you didn’t. It was a secret you would take to the grave with you. 

Are you okay? 

As stupid as the question was, and as obvious as the answer was, you were never able to answer because every time someone asked you ended up crying and unable to speak. So just as it had happened every time before, you choked on a sob before the floodgates opened and your vision became blurred by tears, your knees becoming too weak to hold your body weight. You were barely even aware of Father Lantom and a nun guiding you around the edge of the pew and into the plush seat as you slipped off into the depths of a breakdown. 

When you came back to your senses, a small water bottle was being coaxed into your hand and you glanced up to see a stern looking nun gesture for you to take a drink before she got up and left you with the Father. He patted you on the back before telling you, “I have a feeling you’re here to be close to him. Take the time you need. I’ll be nearby if you need me.” You nodded as he got up, watching as he wandered over to someone else to offer his presence in their own time of need. 

Praying had never been your strong suit, so instead of doing that, once you found your voice, you just began talking aloud to the ceiling as if Matt were there. “Hey Matty… I uh… I came here because I’m really struggling right now. I miss you a lot.” You quietly cleared your throat as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. “I don’t really know what I’m doing so I guess I’ll just tell you what’s been going on.” 

Feeling your keys poking into your thigh reminded you of a little keychain you had on there, so you sighed and said, “They decided to close down Fogwell’s… Not enough members coming anymore.” A quiet huff of laughter left your lips before you added, “Sometimes I feel like you were the only one keeping them in business, but now…” 

Your voice broke again, so you changed course, telling him, “Oh and that piss-beer you drink is more expensive now. It tastes like shit and you know I hate beer, but I keep buying it because it reminds me of you… Dad likes it enough so it doesn’t go to waste.” Sighing, you chewed on your lip before adding, “That reminds me. I moved out of the apartment and back to Hamilton Heights with my parents. I just… I couldn’t stand the quiet of you not being there. God, I would take a million changes though if it meant that you’d still be here…”

The metallic taste of blood suddenly flooded your mouth and only then did you realize that in your minutes of regaining your composure after that statement you had bit into your cheek to keep from completely losing it again. Cringing at the taste, you swallowed it down before telling Matt, “I’ve been really lonely since everything happened… I had to get a new job closer to Mom and Dad’s and it’s hard opening up to anyone so I haven’t really made any friends there. I… I haven’t talked to Karen or Foggy since the funeral either. They remind me too much of you. I know it sounds selfish but…” 

More tears began falling from your eyes and a quiet sob escaped before you said, “I miss your voice so much. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it and I regret ever deleting your voicemails because now it’s getting harder to remember what you sounded like…” Taking a shaking breath, you added, “And I regret stopping my daily journaling. Every time I think of you I just get bombarded by horrible flashbacks and it’s hard to remember the little things. The good things. Those entries from the start of our relationship are all I have left of you and I and it kills me that I don’t have more…”

With your breathing beginning to become shallow again, you opted to finish up before you ended up in another breakdown. “And I know I couldn’t save you from yourself Matthew, but I’ll hold you inside.” Your throat was tight with emotion and you had to swallow hard to even get out your last question to Matt, “Will you haunt me until the day I die?”

“The bastard isn’t gonna have to haunt you for long,” came a deep voice from behind. You froze in fear as you suddenly felt the cold metal of the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of your head. There was a momentary battle in your head between logic and your nagging hopelessness before the latter won out and you let out a slow breath as you accepted what was about to happen, closing your eyes and readying yourself for the Reaper to come get you. 

The shot never came though. Instead, your eyes sprung open when you heard someone near the front of the sanctuary scream. There was a scuffle behind you and you heard fists pounding into flesh and the voice of the man with the gun pleading for mercy before he stopped and you assumed he passed out. You turned around and blinked hard at the sight in front of you. You held tight to the back of the pew, your knuckles turning white as you tried to steady yourself and your spinning head to concentrate on the sight in front of you. Your mind had to be playing tricks on you because there was no way you were looking at Matt Murdock with a piece of fabric haphazardly tied over the top half of his face to hide his identity from the parishioners in the church. 

“Matt?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Get her to safety, I’ll deal with him,” he said, directing his immediate attention to the stern-looking nun who made a reappearance after ushering terrified church-goers out of the building. 

“Follow me, please,” she said as helped you up from the pew. 

Your head was spinning as you were forced up to your feet and into the basement of the church where you were placed on a messily made bed and told that you would be safe there. A flurry of confusion, fear, sadness, and betrayal swirled around in your mind as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Clearly it was real because the nun responded to what Matt had said and the man wasn’t able to kill you. But how? How did he-

“Are you okay?” came Matt’s gravelly voice as he entered the basement, ripping the fabric from his head as he approached and kneeled on the ground in front of you. 

Are you okay? 

This time you weren’t sure if you should be upset or happy or angry in response to the question because there he was, kneeling right in front of you. Alive. Matt wasn’t dead. 

You decided on throwing your arms around him in the tightest embrace you could muster as you shook your head and whispered, “How could you? You bastard…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he replied, voice breaking as he returned your hug, his fists clutching onto the fabric of your top. “I messed up. I thought that you would all be better off without me. Without the danger of being close to me. So when that building collapsed and I somehow made it out alive I decided that Matt Murdock was dead.”

“You slipped like sand right through my fingers, did I not love you enough? If you didn’t want to live as you anymore?” you asked, your voice muffled by his shirt.

“No. Never,” he told you firmly. “I did this to protect you.”

“That isn’t your decision to make for me,” you said, your voice breaking again. 

“I know that now and I’m sorry. I just… I thought that you’d be safer without me. But now Fisk is sending his men after you and you still aren’t safe.” Matt finally pulled away from your embrace and tentatively caressed your cheek with a small smile on his lips. “I missed you. And I love you. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, wiping away a stray tear that escaped your eye. 

Matt made his way onto the bed beside you and the two of you just held each other for a few minutes before he cleared his throat and said cautiously, “Right…right before I stopped that man from shooting you, your whole body relaxed and your stress levels dropped… What was that about?”

You stopped breathing for a moment when he asked this. After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, you replied truthfully, “I…I was ready to die. At least then I would have been with you instead of here suffering without.”

Matt had never pulled you into his embrace faster than he did when you admitted that. As he held you close, you could feel him shaking as he cried and you ran a hand up and down his back, trying to calm him down in turn. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he managed to get out between broken breaths. 

You too were overcome with emotions, so you did what you could and held Matt impossibly closer until you were able to come back to yourself. “I meant everything I said up there by the way. Those were the most miserable months of my life.” You pulled away slightly and hesitantly kissed his cheek before telling him, “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “We’re going to make sure you’re safe and I’m going to take care of Fisk then everything can go back to normal.”

A huff of laughter left your lips before you told him, “Matthew. Your life is anything but normal.”

“Well as normal as it can be. And when the dust clears I hope you’ll still be willing to be by my side,” he said. 

“Forever and always,” you told him, leaning in for a kiss which he reciprocated in the most tender way he could. When the kiss ended, you rested your forehead on his and mumbled, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

And somehow in that moment, even after everything that had happened, you felt okay.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

a/n: okay ngl y’all i cried when i wrote this whoops 😅

anywho! likes and comments are always appreciated! xo, brooke <3

oh also shoutout to those who beta read this! 🫶🏻🐠

taglist: @reidmarieprentiss

[jenosbigtoe]

mdni. nsfw 18+

pairing: bunny!huang renjun x bunny!reader

warnings: childhood best friends, innocent! reader, hybrid au, loss of virginity, unprotected sex

junnie has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. as only other bunny hybrid on the kindergarten playground, he took you under his wing and took it upon himself to always protect you. how could he not, when you were just the sweetest little thing with precious doe eyes and a cute toothy smile? you’ve been attached at the hip since. he would do anything for you—you were his precious bun after all.

it was only natural for you to see him as your mate. he always took care of you, spoiled you, and treated you like a princess. he made sure you would go to him for anything you needed. and he knew you like the back of his hand.

so it didn’t go unnoticed when you started being… extra needy around him. every day for the past few weeks, you begged him to stay over at your apartment because you didn’t want him to leave you alone for even a second. and when he did, you whined until he fell asleep cuddling you in his arms. you grew even clingier than ever, always hugging his side everywhere you went and pressing your body into his.

it all came to a head when he woke up in the middle of the night and you weren’t wrapped up in his arms—stranger, because you always slept practically on top of him. maybe you just moved around in your sleep and didn’t notice. he felt around the sheets to snuggle you back in his arms but he heard shuffling from the other end of the bed. wait, did he hear some sniffling? he looked over to see you wriggling around underneath the blankets, head completely covered.

“bun, what’s wrong?” his voice was still raspy from sleep. he crawled over to your shifting form underneath the covers.

no response. you stilled. he could hear you trying to stifle your sniffles but he knew something was wrong.

he reached over to gently pull the covers from over your head. fat tears were welled up in your eyes as you tried to quickly wipe them away. he immediately pulled you into his lap and comforted you, smoothing out your hair and shushing your small sobs.

“tell me what’s wrong, bun,” he cooed into your hair, scenting you gently to calm you down. your ears were floppy from sadness.

you took a shaky breath. “s’nothing, junnie. go back to sleep.”

his eyebrows furrowed. “it’s not nothing when my baby is all upset like this.”

you buried your face deeper into his chest. “it’s embarrassing.”

“bun, i promise you have nothing to be embarrassed about around me. tell me what’s wrong so i can help you.”

you were silent for a while before mumbling an incoherent answer.

“can you repeat that for me, princess? i didn’t catch that.”

you sighed. “i said, i’ve been feeling so… frustrated lately and i don’t know why.”

he gave you a sweet kiss behind your floppy ear. “hm? frustrated how?”

you took a second to think. “i’ve been feeling… weird down,” you looked embarrassed before glancing down at your private, “there. and i don’t know what to do about it…”

oh. oh. so his sweet bun was feeling sexually frustrated and she didn’t know how to tell him? how cute.

he peeled you off his chest and moved your body to face him directly. “oh bun. you should’ve told me earlier. i could’ve made you feel so much better way sooner.”

you straightened up. “you can? you know how to help me.”

he smirked. “of course, bun. you trust me, right?”

you nodded enthusiastically, grinning widely and showing your cute bunny smile. “of course, junnie. i trust you with my life.”

he took this as an invitation to carefully lay you on your back and crawl on top of you, caging you down on the mattress. your heart was racing out of your chest and you could feel that familiar heat build in your core.

“i’m gonna make you feel really good, okay bun? you just have to trust me.” he cupped your face and gave you a sweet kiss on the lips.

he slowly started to remove your clothes, never removing his lips from yours. that frustrating feeling was building up in your stomach, spreading down to your toes and up your chest. you whined and lightly grinded up on his body, needing more.

“such a needy little bun, huh? acting so innocent but secretly such a little slut,” he growled into your ear. you mewled in protest but he shut you up with another hot kiss.

he pulled down your panties to reveal your juicy cunt underneath, begging and aching to be filled. he almost groaned at the tempting sight. you tried to close your legs, trying to hide your private area out of instinct but he held your legs open with his thighs. then he pulled down his boxers and revealed his fattening cock, pumping his length up and down to relieve some of the tension. your eyes went wide with a mixture of shock, wonder, and amazement.

“junnie, what are you going-“ you started to say but were quickly shushed with another kiss.

“shhh, bun. let me make you feel good okay? just trust me.”

he rubbed the tip of his hard cock on your dripping slit, gathering the arousal and spreading it down his length. you moaned at the contact, writhing around from the feelings you’ve never experienced before. he was rubbing his length up and down your slit, teasing the tip in your hole before going back to rubbing himself on your dripping cunt. you were going crazy, the heat between your legs becoming too much.

“junnie, please do something, anything please! just stop teasing me.” you whined.

he smirked. “oh is my bun ready for me to fill her needy little cunt?” he dragged his tip in circles around your warm hole.

“yes! yes! yes! please junnie!! need you so bad,” you were close to tears again.

he slowly entered your tight cunt, hissing at the way your smooth walls seemed to suck him right in. your ears were twitching in happiness, the pleasure filling your body with euphoria you had never experienced before. you had never felt so full. you needed more, more, more. you hooked your legs behind his back to push him deeper into your cunt. and when he bottomed out, balls resting against your ass and tip pressed against the entrance of your womb, you could’ve died happily.

[theyanderebin]

Yantober Day 6! Unothodox Gift!

Not gonna lie was less inspired to write day five so, uh- Just scooted over that one. I've got something for it. Just not feelin' it!

This was fun though! I thought the energy of this one was a little bit funny.

Briefly noted fem reader, in only like the 2nd paragraph i think-

(As always, prompt courtesy of @ozzgin's yantober list which is right here!)

It's about 850 words!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a throbbing inside your skull, screwing your eyes tighter. Your body on something significantly harder than your soft mattress at home. Arms bound securely behind your back and your ankles simply ties together with a thick rope. "What the fuck?" You thought, your stomach twisting as fear bubbled up inside it.

"Now really," A familiar voice, from where? "You know that's not her colour at all dear." The woman chided someone. "I was just suggesting. I mean we only have so many options.." A man replied gently. You knew these voices… why? Cracking one of your eyes open, standing over you were a roughly middle aged blonde woman in a lengthy cardigan looking over at a man with dulled black hair and a tiredness to his face. "Oh.." rang through your head, "Oh! what the fuck!?" Your eyes staring widened at them both. "Well we have time," She said, "And if we don't find the perfect colours tonight we can simply go shopping for more." She reached in into a dark cloth bag and pulled out a ribbon of slightly shiny fabric. A simple blue. "This is much nicer." "Would it be fair to choose a monotone pair?" He suggested, hand on his chin thoughtfully. "Like black and white?" "Yes! It would be simple and effective." He remarked in a cheery tone. "Hmm.." she hummed, head tilting to the side. "I suppose it would put more focus on her than the wrappings.." With a sigh she turned.

Your eyes locked with her soft green ones, as you both stared silently at each other. Great. Excellent. Your ex's parents. What. The. Hell. Her husband turned away to pull a black swathe of velvety fabric and a hank of shiny white ribbon from a bag on the floor nearby. "How about this?" He turned back in the direction of you both., "Or is it too dark-? Oh!" He blinked somewhat owlishly. You stared back up at him. Your voice cracked out, "What the hell.." "Hello.." He tacked on a greeting with an awkward smile. His wife audibly cleared her throat. "Well.. uh. I suppose there is some explanation due here.." She pushed her blonde hair away from her cheek, placing down the bag. "As i'm sure you know our precious boy's birthday is coming up. We simply wanted to show him how much we care for him." She reasoned as if this was even bordering on normal. "He's so broken up ever since you left him, so.. We couldn't bear to see him so sad." He rested a comforting hand on her shoulder as her voice choked up. "So we brought upon ourselves to bring him a gift that would make him the happiest.. and.. well.."

They gave no more explanation after that, simply moving right into carefully wrapping you in a soft velvet fabric and securing it with the white ribbon. Once sufficiently wrapped and unable to do anything about it, you were carefully moved to a much softer spot. A bed tucked away in the guest room in the back of the house. They couldn't have you developing any more bruises after all. He gave you a pat on the head before he left. Truly the father's choice of reassurance. Or at least attempted. You were alone. The only company in the room the quiet ticking of a clock. You weren't exactly sure how much time had passed, only that they made sure you ate three meals a day, whether you particularly liked it or not. The only thing you knew was you wanted away from that damn clock! Counting seconds had gotten so old, SO long ago!

You fell asleep one night. Awoken to jostling in the morning. Her humming heard just over the rumble of a car engine. You were almost certain you knew where you were headed. But god! at least you're away from the infuriating ticking. When you finally stopped, their car parked in the garage. You could hear their muffled greetings and birthday wishes through the car windows.

When he finally got a hold of you it was almost far too tight. Desperately having to keep his eyes off of how precious you were. "Wow.." The ecstasy blooming in his strained voice, "You didn't have to." His mother only smiled, "Of course we did! We want to see you happy sweetheart." She leaned over to peck a kiss on his forehead, he wouldn't even think of denying her with how perfectly they chose his lovely gift. "You two have fun, alight!" she finished cheerfully as his father clapped him on the shoulder. Your expression? A blank stare locked onto an empty wall as the two of them took their leave, not wanting to 'disturb the lovebirds'. Ew.

Feeling his arms snake their way around your body, you shuddered. Pressing his face to the top of your hair and taking a deep breath. "I missed you…" He breathed, "So.. So much.." A finger hooked it's way around the white ribbon securing your fabric, "How bout' we get you unwrapped, hm?" You could hear him grinning.

[tarjapearce]

soccer family Miguel meeting wife’s family for the first time and vice versa?

Oh dear. What a bumpy ride. 🙃

Bit of angst in the end. (Will do her meeting his family later, don't worry ~)

Pt 2 here

Teeth pulled at the inner soft skin on your lips, chewing and biting away the waves of raw anxiety that washed over you.

"Stop that. You'll hurt yourself."

Miguel mumbled as he drove to your family's home. It was an unsettling surprise for you to know that your family wanted to meet him. But what truly surprised you was the fact that they knew.

Ever since you moved out from your family's home at 18, many things stopped happening. Fights, verbal and emotional abuse that went both ways, the constant comparison to your other same age family members and you, and of course, you being pushed around and invalidated.

College was a different kind of freedom for you. And the start of a new life without them. You barely visited them, even skipped the most important holidays to be away from them. In a way, it was thanks to that that you met Jessica. She had been a wonderful support on your life.

"I know... just-"

His large hand covered yours to then give a kiss on the back of your palm

"You'll be fine. And if you don't feel comfortable enough, we can go."

"I'm uncomfortable already and we haven't even arrived yet."

"They can't be that bad"

You deadpanned and sighed.

"Corazón, look. I know family's difficult. I really do, but a couple of hours won't kill you. It's a good chance to prove them wrong."

"I've got nothing to prove them, Miguel."

"Right. Still, won't be a bad idea for them to see you doing fine. Talvez asi se callan el hocico y te dejan en paz" (Maybe that way they'll shut the fuck up and leave you alone)

You giggled at his words.

In truth was that you told him everything, it was sort of sad yet amusing that you bonded over trauma sharing. It was a mutual catharsis that somehow ended up strengthening your relationship. He didn't know them, but for the things you had shared with him, he knew he'd be curt and polite.

You'd warn him about their modus operandi. They'd present themselves as kind and welcoming, but bit by bit the snide and passive aggressive remarks and comments would show up. You had hope that after years of barely visiting they'd change.

Something you were about to find out as he parked outside the colonial looking home.

"No matter what, stay away from the Horchata. My auntie thinks she is good at it but... it's yuck."

He chuckled and soon, you'd get out the car. Miguel rubbed your shoulders soothingly in an attempt to ease your restless nerves.

----

"Buenas gente" (Hey, People)

One of your elder aunts, the only one you truly liked and always supported you back in college came to greet you with a loving hug, "Mija!"

"Hola tía" (Hey auntie)

You hugged her back and mumbled a quick 'I missed you' before letting Miguel come into view.

"Tía, This is Miguel. My boyfriend."

Auntie gasped at the sheer size of him but gave him a gentle smile.

"Nice to meet you, mijo."

"El gusto es mío, madrecita" (The pleasure is mine)

"Oh! He speaks Spanish!"

The two shared a brief laugh as auntie invited you further. With a hand Miguel held a small present, a bottle of your dad's favorite rum and bunch of roses for your mother. and the other one he held your hand.

It seemed like a regular carneada for him, except that this time there wasn't meats to roast, but soup. Your mom's special seafood soup that was only done in special occasions. You could tell it would be difficult to leave emotionally unscathed when your mom and dad, three aunties, two cousins, and your brother were there.

Upon you making an appearance before all of them, the world stopped for a second, your breath was caught in your throat as you mentally prepared for the game of pretense.

"Mi niña! Come here!"

Your dad followed by your brother made the first ones in making an approach. The size difference sure was shocking for them all. Your father and brother had to crane his head up to see Miguel.

"¿Qué tal? Un gusto conocerte." (How's it going? Nice to meet you)

Miguel shook his hand with him firmly, something your dad approved. And then Miguel handed the packaged rum to him.

He had explained how you'd told him about his favorite drink. Your dad invited you and introduced Miguel to the whole family.

Some of your cousins oggled him shamelessly. Earning a frown from you.

However the biggest challenge laid ahead. Your mother had been watching both from afar, tending to the food with some of your aunties.

And when it was her time to be greeted, you held tighter on his hand. His thumb rubbing on your skin, reassuring.

You'll be fine.

"Mamá" You mumbled and her so ever deep stare settled on Miguel. Not even in you first, but Miguel.

"Fo you, Ma'am" Miguel gave her the roses which she took with a strained smile.

"Thank you very much. Miguel was it, right?"

"Así es." (Correct)

"Are you hungry? Made your favorite soup."

Her stalking gaze shifted between Miguel and you.

"Thanks. A bit would be nice."

"Hm. Go sit, Miguel. We'll tend to this."

Her gaze returned to the food and you nodded at him. He wasn't comfortable with the idea to just sit and watch. But by the things you had told him, it was better to not create unnecessary drama for you.

-----

Everyone seemed at the expectance of something happening between you and your mother. Your brother was trying to make casual conversation with Miguel, but his curt and simple answers made him desist. Plus, it didn't help his mahogany eyes seemed lighter.

If they were nervous about him looking so big with deep red eyes, they'd surely freak out by his fangs. It instantly made your stomach churn, you knew Miguel didn't appreciate people pointing at his insecurities so brazenly, even worse without knowing him.

Everyone sat down, a little blessing before anything and soon the feast begun.

Of course, eyes were settled on both of you and your interactions. Miguel followed your instructions to then help you break the crab.

One of your aunties smiled at it.

"So, Miguel, where do you work?"

Here we go

"Lab Manager at Alchemax."

Your brother whistled and nodded approvingly, just like your father.

Your relationships with him sure was strained, but at least he seemed to have a bit more self criterion than the rest when it came to pick sides. You'd rather him neutral. Just like your dad.

"Wow, you surely outdid yourself this time, cariño."

That cariño sat sickly fake in your stomach. She was the one that always instigated the fights further when you thought everything would calm down. You didn't smile, just ate.

Miguel was given a beer, a round of collective gasps as he tried to open the beer with his fangs. Your other auntie made a cross sign on herself and your mother's eyes widened.

A custom you still couldn't get out of him.

"Do they hurt?"

"How does one get those? They look so cool!"

"Are they comfortable?"

Your eyes caught the glimpse of him tightening his grip on the spoon.

"Ya pues!" (Knock it off!)

"There is no need to yell"

Silence immediately came to the table as your gaze and your mother's clashed.

"Disculpa eso, Miguel." (Im sorry for that, Miguel)

your dad shook his head at your cousins.

"Do you plan on having kids?"

You couldn't help but hide your face in your palm.

"Mamá, stop."

"What? I just wanna know! You're getting old enough to have kids. And Emanuel is always asking about you."

"We haven't discussed it yet." Miguel cleaned his hands with lemon, rinsing away the fishy smell out of his fingers. The coldness in his voice only matched your mom's icy stare.

"Oh."

"But do you want to have kids, Miguel?"

"Dios mío, ma! Ya basta." (My god, Mom! Enough.)

"Why are you so mad over a question?"

Miguel's jaw clenched. It made sense for him why you didn't visit. The way you rolled your eyes, made the ones that had finished already to stand up and leave. Their cue to leave things unfold.

Your elder auntie seized your mom with a glare. Your dad only recoiled to himself and your brother sighed.

"Ma, eso no se pregunta." The only attempt of him to calm the boiling tension between the two. (Mom, you don't ask such things)

Miguel gave you a 'do you wanna go now' stare. And you shook your head. Leaving would only make things worse. But you found the perfect excuse to leave the table.

"Need help, mi amor?"

"Sure."

He was perceptive to pick up your cues, the both cleared up the table and took the dishes to the sink.

---

"I'm so sorry you had to put up with it." You mumbled as you washed and he dried. The kitchen felt tiny for him.

"S'fine."

"Are you mad?"

"A bit uncomfortable. But no, not mad."

"We're leaving after we're done here." a deep sigh escaped your lips, "This is exactly why I don't come here."

"Whose Emanuel?" You groaned and shook your head.

"A man mom thought it was fun to pair me with a long time ago. I never indulged him but he never got the memo ever since I left this place"

"Sounds like he never got over you."

"Yeah, cause mom kept feeding his hopes of me getting with him together."

"Is that why you moved out?"

"One of the reasons, yeah."

You finished the dishes and Miguel excused himself to the bathroom.

He could hear the voices from the other side. One of your aunts surely and your mom.

"I give them a year."

"Did you see his... fangs? I've never seen something like that! And his eyes too!"

"Esta niña... Me va a sacar canas verdes. From all The guys she could pick, she gets one that is twice her size. Why she can't pick up normal guys?" (This girl, will get me green hairs)

Miguel's eyes turned apprehensive as his mouth settled in a straight line.

He had to hunch over the sink to take a look of himself in the mirror. He looked pretty normal, by any standards, until of course, he smiled. Pointy canines bigger than the average people stood out the most. His eyes were a different shade of brown. That was all.

He was fine.

He was normal.

He knew things like this would happen, he expected a bit of trouble. Not this.

His head felt heavy. Sudden spiral thoughts plagued his mind, corrupting the good things he held dear in his mind.

"As long as he's rich, don't care."

"Emanuel's surely richer than him"

That was the final straw. He knew you weren't that type of woman. Hell, you had invited him multiple times, knowing that you'd get broke for a couple of weeks. And still did it anyways. You loved to pamper him.

Why?

His steps guided him back to you. You were stressed and surely would cry at night. But so far you were keeping it together.

Your heart sunk a bit when looking at him. Neither of the both could stand being a second longer in the house. He followed you as you said your goodbyes. You didn't hug none but your elder aunt, and your dad, though the latter got an awkward hug.

You went back home. Neither of you said much during the trip back.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Ohmygosh

Little sister Donna and big sis Alcina is a family dynamic I didn't know I needed before reading your stories.

Could I maybe ask for a story about Donna asking Alcina for advice on how to woo reader? I can just imagine nervous wreck Donna calling her sister when she realises she got a crush.

And thank you for your stories :)

Yesss!!!!! Don't thank me, I'm the one who has to thank you for reading them!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!!

A little help from my sister

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Some angst, fluff, Donna's POV, Donna being Donna

Word count: 7,892

Summary: I can't tell her... I need someone to help me...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!! I love you all!!! :))

Mother Miranda's words echoed in the four walls of the church. Always the same prayers, always the same phrases.

I sat next to my siblings, I don't even remember if I ever occupied another seat, if I was ever in the place of the villagers. New faces, different faces, children who grew up, old people who never returned... A bitter cycle of life and death, a cycle that I was condemned to endure, forever.

Donna Beneviento, Lord, doll maker, that was me. I wondered if I was ever something else, something more than a dark shadow next to some monsters, or, on the contrary, if I was just one more of them.

My appearance confirmed my fears. My face stopped being that of a woman, a human being. It had been too long, I had already gotten used to the veil that covered it, and also, to the loneliness.

Yes, I had Angie, my dolls, but, it was not enough to make me not realize that I lived in a house too big for me. Like everything else, it soon stopped mattering to me.

Torturing, killing, reading, working, sleeping, what a routine. Too many years had passed for me to regret the sentence that Mother Miranda cast upon me that night, the night I stopped being a person, to become a monster.

My only eye wandered around the church, to those faithful faces, devoted to the Black Gods. I liked to play at seeing who would return, and who would not. I suppose that is what a monster does, study its victims.

But, for some time now, one of those faces had caught my attention: a village girl, hidden in a bunch of stupid people a young, beautiful girl, one who always came back, one who decided to behave and not try to escape from that place.

Every week I looked at her, every week I got lost in her dress, in her gaze… It was like an addiction, an addiction that always made me thankful for existing, for having lived long enough to see her grow, to be lucky enough to see her beauty. I knew they were stupid fantasies but… Well, at least I had a reason to leave my safe place, to leave my house.

“Donna, dear,” a soft voice distracted me from my feat, from the weekly vision of her body, her face, one that was increasingly sad, increasingly beautiful.

My sister Alcina was always there to remind me that girl was unreachable. She was an angel, I was a monster.

“What are you looking at?” the lady of the castle asked, positioning her eyes in the same direction as mine. I shook my head, said nothing, did nothing, as always. “Am I missing something interesting?”

“No,” I whispered hoarsely, in a voice I didn’t usually use. I couldn’t make Angie speak for me, it would draw too much attention and, although it didn’t seem like it, Miranda kept talking.

“Mm,” Alcina murmured, squinting, searching hard for the reason for my distraction. Luckily, she didn’t get to do it.

“We wait for the light of dawn…” they all said at the same time, all except us, of course. “In life, and in death, we give glory, Mother Miranda.”

“May the Black Gods have mercy on your soul,” the priestess said, stretching out her arms. I know she enjoyed it, I know she enjoyed making the villagers just be a stupid flock of sheep.

“Let the lycans devour our flesh,” the villagers repeated, finally getting up from the pews.

At least that torture was over.

“What do we do now, Donna?” Angie asked, leaving the church in my arms, containing that euphoria that always accompanied her.

“Let’s go home,” I whispered discreetly, my gaze fixed on those villagers, searching for something, searching for her gaze.

“Home? How boring,” the doll protested, crossing her arms. I shook my head, with an amused smile.

“I have a lot of things to do,” I whispered again, walking away from the crowd, disappearing like a shadow, like the shadow they said I was, the shadow of a monster.

“How are you going to do it, silly Donna? We don’t have any fabrics, remember?” the doll said, pointing at me with her finger.

I sighed, realizing that she was right, that my time in the village was going to be prolonged. I hate the village, I hate the villagers. I hate people.

“Okay…” I murmured, looking around for the Duke's carriage. “I'll talk to the Duke and then we'll go.”

“Yes, yes, Duke, Duke!” Angie said, excited, as always.

At least it would only be a moment, at least all the villagers seemed to have better things to do than wander around the village…

“It has to be a joke,” an unknown voice reached my ears as I approached the carriage. It was a sweet voice, but somewhat nervous.

“I never joke, (Y/N), and even less so when we talk about money…” the merchant said.

I stood on the ground. It was her, it was that beautiful girl from the church, she was there, alone.

“What are you doing?” Angie asked, seeing that I was unable to move. I had never had her so close, I was never able to see her beauty so close to me. “Come on, Donna, move…”

“Oh, certo…” I sighed, walking again.

The girl seemed nervous, that calm look she always entertained me with seemed disturbed. I approached slowly, trying to make my presence go unnoticed.

“1000 lei for a medicine?” the young woman asked, showing the merchant what looked like a bottle of pills.

I pretended not to hear, I hid in the shadows of the carriage, looking, touching the fabrics I needed. Surely the Duke had already noticed my presence, but, as always, he ignored it. It was the best for him, and he knew it.

“Medicines are scarce resources, (Y/N). They are not easy to get,” the man said, shaking his head, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, with a shy gesture of greeting. I returned it, touching those fabrics, trying to concentrate on my task, and not on those bright eyes.

“I don't have that money,” the girl said, (Y/N), apparently, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.

“Oh, but didn't you have a vegetable store?” the Duke asked, counting coins mockingly.

“Of course I have, but we can't do anything if my father’s sick,” the girl said, crossing her arms. “Please, he is, he is very... The, the fever is consuming him.”

“It's a pity, (Y/N)…” the merchant sighed.

“Please, Duke, he, he's dying…” she said, clasping her hands together, her eyes shining from the moisture of the tears that were beginning to form in them. It was a sight that stopped my heart, but which I pretended not to pay attention to.

“I'm sorry, dear, but I don't do favors… It's 1000 lei,” the fat man sighed, shaking his head.

“Do you have no feelings?” she asked, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.

“In this job, (Y/N), you better don’t have them…” the Duke sighed, disinterestedly.

“Ugh…” she growled, kicking the snow. “Damn it.”

“Do you want anything else?” the merchant asked. “I have more customers to attend to.”

“Fuck you!” the girl yelled angrily, making me shift in place, stop caressing the soft fabrics.

“There's no need to be rude, don't you think?” the Duke said, amused, as the girl walked away from him, heading towards me and hitting my shoulder as she passed by.

“Hey, stupid villager! Watch your step!” Angie shouted, pointing at her in a contemptuous manner.

(Y/N) didn't turn around, she continued on her way among sobs and curses.

That incredible beauty was suffering, crying, very far from her usual tender smile, her eyes were red from rage. I didn't know why, but I couldn't stand it.

“Well...” the Duke laughed, amused by her suffering. I growled with rage, approaching him in an unpleasant way. “Lady Beneviento, I beg your pardon for this incident… Are you here for fabrics for your dolls?”

I nodded, following the young woman with my eyes. She seemed so desperate…

“We'll take them all, Duke!” Angie shrieked, with an exaggerated gesture of her arms. He laughed with satisfaction while I, in the most abrupt way possible, threw him a bag of coins.

“Good… Good,” he laughed, satisfied. “I'll come by this afternoon to take them to you… Do you need anything else?”

“Anything else, Donna? Anything else?” Angie said, moving in my arms, starting to get nervous.

I gently shook my head, but my gaze fell on that bottle of pills, on that medicine, on the reason those beautiful eyes were crying. Slowly, I leaned down to pick it up and look at it. It looked like a medicine to lower the fever, she wasn't lying.

“Are you feeling sick, my lady?” the Duke asked, studying my gestures. I shook my head slowly, looking at the place where she had disappeared.

“We're taking this too,” Angie said, with my voice, speaking for me as I showed that vermin the bottle of pills. The Duke frowned, but nodded disinterestedly.

“Of course…” he whispered without paying attention, counting that huge amount of coins that I had thrown at him. Of course, I should have imagined that a Lord would never pay 1,000 lei for something as basic as a medicine.

Moving away from the carriage, I looked for (Y/N) with my eyes, looking for her footprints in the snow and slowly following them.

“What are you doing, Donna?” Angie asked, taking the bottle of pills and examining it comically. “What’s this?”

“There you are…” I whispered when I saw (Y/N) walking slowly towards a cabin, stopping to rub her eyes. The sadness she conveyed shrank my heart. No, she couldn't cry, she shouldn't cry. Her beauty couldn't be destroyed by tears, by helplessness.

Little by little, I approached, reaching out my hand to rest on her shoulder, calling her attention. She turned around and the sadness turned into fear, immediately moving away.

“Lady Beneviento,” she whispered confused, shaking her head, searching behind her for a way to escape. There wasn't one, she was trapped. “I... I don't...”

I didn't say anything. I simply stayed next to her, with a calm pose, unintentionally intimidating her, scaring her.

“Silly villager,” Angie said among mocking laughs. I shook her discreetly to shut her up. No, I didn't want to scare her. I didn't want her to be afraid of me.

“Gods, I…” she sighed scared, kneeling on the ground, pressing her hands together, lowering her head. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry I hit you, I didn't mean to.”

I sighed, hurt by that attitude, by the reality I was unable to see when I looked at her in the church, by knowing that those eyes would never look at me any other way, that they would only see… A monster.

“Please, my, my father is sick, I have, I have to take care of him, please, don't hurt me,” the young woman begged, lowering her head even more. That situation began to overwhelm me. I didn't know why I did what I did. Maybe I should never have done it.

“Taci,” I whispered with my voice, speaking for myself, controlling Angie's movements. She was impatiently waiting for her turn to scare the girl.

“I beg you, have mercy, have…” she murmured trembling with fear, trembling in fear for me.

Not wanting to see that look, to notice those tremors in her body, I just threw her the bottle of pills, one that she picked up confused, blinking repeatedly.

“What…?” she sighed shaking her head.

I had seen enough, I had received the fear of those beautiful eyes, of that beautiful face. I didn't want to stay there, I couldn't do it, I couldn't remember that I will never stop being a Lord, that she would never… Never notice me.

I turned around with a sigh, walking away from her, ignoring her.

“Wait! Wait a minute! Why?” she said nervously, while her voice became more and more camouflaged. “Wait! Wait, please!”

I didn't hear her, I kept walking. I had seen enough, I had to go home.

The days were a terrible, but comfortable routine. After that encounter I couldn't think of anything else. I acted automatically, helping that beautiful young woman, the one who didn't know I already knew, the one who didn't know had been the only image in my mind for a long time.

While I was making my dolls, I thought about her, her scared face, her bright eyes, her pleas... The porcelain I was working with stopped being soft, it stopped relaxing me, I was nervous, and I didn't know why.

“Donna, Donna,” Angie said, distracting me from my tasks, from my thoughts. “What are you doing, silly Donna?”

“Look,” I said with a smile, showing her my new creation, one with those new fabrics I bought from that horrible man, that man who made (Y/N) cry. “Do you like it?”

“Ohh...” the doll sighed, taking the object carefully, nodding effusively. “It's cool.”

“Cool?” I asked, amused, shaking my head and picking up the doll from her hands, arranging its new hair. “I guess so.”

“It looks like the idiot from the other day,” Angie commented, making my hands shake. Same hair, same eye color, same dress. I frowned, sighing, leaving that new doll carefully on the table.

“Maybe it does,” I commented, feigning disinterest.

“She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Donna?” Angie hummed, climbing onto my lap and nudging me. I shook my head, unable to stop my cheeks from blushing.

“Yes, she is,” I whispered, in a sad, bitter tone, acknowledging for the first time that maybe, just maybe, I was starting to have feelings for her. It was crazy, it was impossible but… Well, I was crazy.

“You like her,” she mocked in a shrill tone.

“What if I like her?” I asked ironically, with a serious look, taking out my frustration on my only friend. “It doesn't matter.”

“She might like you…” Angie whispered amused. It could be a joke, an attempt by the doll to cheer me up, but I didn't see it that way. Angry, I hit the table with my closed fist, breathing with difficulty.

“Don't… Say… Nonsense,” I hissed, glaring at the doll, who immediately got off my body. “It's impossible.”

Admitting reality was important, stopping dreaming, stopping thinking about her could be a good solution. She would never notice me, she would only be afraid of me. She would only run away because of my appearance, she would never get close. For her I would always be a monster, there was no solution, there was no other way.

If I didn't forget her, I would be in trouble. My obsession would grow to madness, until... Until maybe my disturbed mind decided to hurt her for hating me. I didn't want to get to that point. I fought with all my might to forget those bright eyes.

I couldn't do it.

The following week came without me realizing it. I was so lost in her gaze that time passed like a sigh. Everything reminded me of her, my hands could only paint her face on my dolls. I could only give them the color of her eyes. I was losing my mind. I was losing it for her. Every night I counted the hours left to see her again, to watch her from afar again.

It would be the closest I could be to her, and I knew it, I always knew it.

There she was, in the third row. Her eyes no longer betrayed sadness, that tender smile had returned to her face. But something else happened, something that caught me off guard. Her head turned, her eyes rested on mine, she was looking at me.

Her smile crossed me. It grew bigger when it made contact with my dark figure.

I, shy, embarrassed, looked away, I couldn't keep it, I couldn't stand that light, that smile, those eyes that stared into mine, that seemed to even pierce my black veil.

“Anything interesting over there?” a velvety voice pulled me out of that timid exchange of glances. Alcina, as always, seemed more attentive to my movements than to Miranda's speech. Well, I couldn't blame her for that.

“No,” I answered, as usual.

“No? Well, I think there was a little bird that kept an eye on you, dear...” Lady Dimitrescu whispered, laughing softly, looking at the same place, where your gaze lowered, surely intimidated by my sister's dangerous eyes.

“It's the fool that Donna likes,” Angie said, climbing the lady up to her ear. I got very nervous, but I didn't want to draw attention. Miranda's grey eyes had already fixed on our movements.

“Really?” Alcina said, laughing softly, arching her eyebrows. “How interesting...”

“Angie, basta,” I reprimanded the puppet, taking her down from my sister.

“Is everything okay?” Miranda asked, with an annoyed tone.

I nodded nervously, controlling the doll's protests. Miranda sighed, spreading her wings to end the speech, mobilizing the villagers, making (Y/N)'s gaze get lost among the people.

Not wanting to find her, wanting to wait for everyone to leave, I stayed seated. Unfortunately, Alcina stayed with me.

“You should come to the castle for tea, Donna, I think we have a lot of things to talk about,” the lady in white said, finally standing up, when it seemed that all the people had left.

I shook my head, doing the same, ignoring her proposal.

“There is nothing to talk about,” the doll whispered, speaking for me. I was too nervous to do so, nothing strange.

“Oh… I think… There is…” Alcina sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder, pointing to a figure that remained standing near the pile of offerings to the Gods, (Y/N). “I think someone is waiting for you.”

I froze, watching as those beautiful eyes looked back at mine, as her shy gaze rested on me, only on me.

“I have things to do,” I whispered indifferently, trying to turn my body to face the door, something that I couldn’t do. Alcina's huge hands settled on my shoulders, pushing me closer to her, too close.

“See you, dear,” my sister whispered, amused, bending down to cross the door, to leave me alone with her.

When the vampire walked away, (Y/N)’s body turned towards me, her hands playing clumsily with each other, her lips were pressed together, and her head remained looking at the floor. I stood still, wanting to get out of there, but at the same time wanting to stay, to enjoy her beauty a little longer, just a little longer.

“My, my lady,” (Y/N) said, with a clumsy whisper, with her nerves making her body tremble. “I, I would like to talk to you.”

“To us? What do you want, silly, silly?” Angie said, with an annoyed tone, scaring her.

“Well, I…” she stammered, playing nervously with her gaze. She didn't know who to look at, who to talk to, me or Angie. I couldn't blame her.

“Talk to her, silly, silly, she doesn't bite, but I do...” Angie said amused, chattering her teeth, making her back off. I, tired of the puppet's irreverent attitude, lowered her to the floor.

“Angie, leave us alone,” I ordered her in an almost imperceptible whisper. The doll looked at me and then at her shrugging her shoulders and moving away.

“My, my lady, I... I wanted...” the girl said, coming a little closer to me, not daring to look at me. I could still feel her fear, the subtle trembling of her body. “I wanted to thank you.”

Her voice was beautiful. It penetrated my ears like soothing music. I nodded slowly, clasping my hands in front of my body, feigning a stoic pose, the pose that was expected of me.

“My, my father is much better thanks to the medicine and… It, it wouldn't have been possible if… If you didn't…” she stammered, running one hand through her hair, searching with the other for something in her pocket. “I'm not going to ask your reasons but… Still, I still thank you, really.”

“It doesn't matter,” the words came out of my lips, I didn't have to make any effort, I had to seem stronger than her, braver even if I wasn't, even if her beauty intimidated me much more than the Black Gods.

“Yes, Well… I…” she said, with a nervous smile, unable to meet my gaze. “The, the Lords don't usually help poor villagers like us… It's… It's a gratifying surprise and…”

I relaxed my shoulders. No matter what she said, she still feared me. I could see it in her eyes.

“I'm sure you've heard terrible things about me,” I said without thinking, letting out a feeling of frustration for not being able to hear her speak clearly, for hearing her beautiful voice without fear on it, in her words.

“Well... I have,” she admitted, looking away again. “I, I guess they're wrong.”

The smile returned to her face, her gaze lit up again, as did mine. She couldn't see me, she couldn't see the blush on my cheeks. She couldn't see my errant eye not knowing where to look.

“I just felt sorry for you, that's all,” I said with a calm voice, but angry at the same time. I never knew how to act, how to deal with people, how to behave in front of her beautiful presence, in front of those bright eyes.

“Pity is something you can’t see usually in a place like this,” she murmured, shaking her head, saddening her expression and taking something out of her pocket. “I... I wanted, I wanted to give you this.”

(Y/N) extended her hand towards me, a hand in which there was a kind of bracelet made with small bones and decorated with black feathers. I picked it up, touching her soft skin, one I didn't know.

“I wish, I wish I had something else to give you, but, well, I, I made it myself,” she said nervously while I looked at that curious bracelet. I was so focused on her gift that I didn't even notice how close we were.

“Ohhh, a gift...” Angie murmured, appearing out of nowhere, startling the girl, who relaxed instantly nodding with a sincere smile.

“It's, it's for you... My, my father says it brings good luck and... Well, it's, it's what I wish for you, Lady Beneviento,” she said elegantly, lowering her head again while I played with that bracelet in my hands.

“Just a bracelet? Hey, silly, silly, we saved your father's life,” Angie joked, pointing at her with her finger.

“Angie...” I sighed annoyed, dedicating a fiery look to the doll, who was hidden behind my dress.

“No, She, she's right, my lady,” the girl said, putting a hand on my arm, drawing my attention with the heat of her skin through the fabric of my dress.

(Y/N), realizing her boldness, immediately withdrew it with an apologetic look.

“It's, it's nonsense, and, and it doesn't show the gratitude I feel,” the young woman, shaking her head.

“I don't need your gratitude,” I murmured in a somber, clumsy voice.

“I, I know but... Well, if you want me to do something for you... I, I’ll do anything you want,” (Y/N) offered, with open eyes, staring at me, waiting for an answer that wasn't a dark murmur.

“Ohh,” Angie sighed, coming out of her hiding place. I squeezed the bracelet tightly, nervous. “Anything?”

The girl nodded under the doll's soft laughter. I really wanted to deactivate her.

“Then you have to have tea with us, silly,” Angie said, walking cockily.

“Tea?”

“Angie, basta,” I protested, trying to reach the doll, who laughed amusedly as she ran away from my hands.

“It would be an honor to have tea with you, my lady,” (Y/N) said, making me stop, looking at her slowly, surprised by that answer.

“You…” I whispered distrustfully. “Do you want to come… Come to my house… To… Have tea?”

She nodded with a sincere smile, sighing.

“Yes, my lady, it is the least I can do, my lady,” she answered laughing amused, surely due to my sudden nervous attitude, far from my position as a Lord.

“Is this afternoon okay with you, silly?” Angie asked, standing in front of me.

“Of, of course,” she said, shaking the wooden hand that Angie extended to her.

“Cazzo, Angie, can't you keep quiet?” I said furiously, entering my house again, returning to the safety of my home, to its comforting darkness.

“Donna is swearing…” the doll sang while I got rid of the black veil, thus revealing my flushed face.

“Shut up, you're driving me crazy,” I protested, moving my leg against the floor.

“You should be grateful, silly,” Angie mocked, pointing at me with her finger. “I got you a date with your sweetheart.”

“A date? Don't talk nonsense...”

No, of course it wasn't a date, it was a duty, a deal that (Y/N) and my doll made. Having tea didn't mean anything. There was nothing that told me there was any chance that... Nevermind.

“Sit down,” I ordered the girl when, punctually, she appeared at the estate with a slow, shaky walk. No matter how much she denied it, she was still afraid of me.

The girl obeyed, looking around curiously. I couldn't blame her, but my sick mind saw that attitude as a threat.

“What are you looking at?” I asked, annoyed by her beautiful, indiscreet eyes. She shook her head with a shy smile, a slight blush on her cheek.

“Oh, nothing, I was just... curious,” she replied, settling down on the couch, suffering from my dark presence in front of her. “You have a very... beautiful house, my lady.”

“Sugar?” I offered, ignoring that complacent comment. She nodded, sighing in relief at not having to continue with those false words about the darkness surrounding me.

“Yes, please,” she said, bringing her cup closer to me, letting her skin brush against mine again. It was a too good feeling for me, one I hadn't felt in a long time.

Time passed slowly, in silence. Neither of us was willing to talk. I could feel her discomfort, I could feel it from afar. I could sense the trembling of her hands.

“You're nervous,” I said, moving my veil aside so I could drink some tea, a gesture at which she looked away as a sign of respect. Of course, she didn't want to see me. She couldn't see that I was... A monster.

“I'd be lying if I said I’m not, my lady,” the girl said in a soft voice, playing with her hands on the fabric of the sofa.

“You're afraid of me,” I said again, in a darker tone.

I had to know, I had to hear her voice telling me how much she feared me, I wanted her own words to end this obsession I felt for her.

“I don't know anyone who isn't afraid of a Lord, my lady,” she said in a soft voice, looking away as she sighed.

“But you came to have tea with me,” I said, looking for a way to stop being me, to stop scaring her. There was no way to do it, I was a monster, and she knew it.

“Well, I promised to do it,” (Y/N) said, leaving the cup on the table.

“You could have not come,” I said, crossing my arms, waiting for the moment for her to run away, to flee from me, to make sure she could never feel anything for me.

“I never break my word, my lady,” she whispered, raising her gaze to me, catching me in her eyes again.

“I see,” I sighed, removing that beautiful glow from my face. “(Y/N), right?”

She nodded shyly.

“I'm surprised you remember my name, my lady,” she said amused, more relaxed, smiling again.

“Why are you surprised?” I asked curiously. “It's a beautiful name.”

“Thank you, my lady,” she said shyly, blushing at my clumsy compliment. “Well, I normally doubt that the Lords would care about the lives of some poor villagers.”

I laughed, shaking my head. I wished I wasn't a Lord, I wished she would stop shaking every time she spoke to me.

“But, but, well... I didn't expect one of them to save my father's life either, so...” she murmured, frowning, being very careful with her words.

“Stop it. I've already told you that it's not important,” I protested, nervous, trembling, almost panicking. She had been near me for too long, letting me contemplate her beauty for too long.

“For me, it is,” she said, with a serious tone, with a serene look, stopping shaking. “Seeing some light among so much darkness is... comforting.”

“Light?” I asked with an ironic tone, with an accent that was too marked, revealing my nerves. “Don't talk nonsense. There is no light in this place.”

“I can see light in you,” she murmured, leaving me speechless, giving silence a new opportunity to fall upon us.

It was a different afternoon, too silent, too strange. Silence reigned, only interrupted by your soft words, by your smiles that tried hard to get me to return them. They succeeded, I smiled, too many times, more than I thought I would do in my entire life.

She would never know. She would never be able to see my smile, my tender, studious gaze, my eye that tried hard to retain in my head all the details of her skin. She was perfect. She was sweet, kind, with a big heart. My obsession worsened, now I saw her in dreams, on my dolls. Without living without her, she was with me, always in my mind, in my thoughts.

But those feelings that I refused to have were finally released when she decided, on her own, to come to my house from time to time, to have tea with me without me asking her. It was a miracle, a stroke of luck, something that shouldn't happen. She couldn't want to see me, she shouldn't want to. She was an angel and I was a monster.

As time went by, laughter and kind words replaced the tension, the nerves her presence caused me, the fear that mine caused her. Her comments about her life became more and more frequent. A relaxed pose began to form on her body. She was no longer afraid, she no longer feared me.

(Y/N) said that I was light, that I was different from the rest. I would have liked to believe her words.

“I had a great time, my… Lady,” she said timidly as we walked to the door. Two months of visits and she still called me that… I hated it.

“Donna,” I said, wanting to get that nickname off her lips, not wanting her to keep calling me that. I really hated it.

“Donna,” she repeated, with a shy smile, nodding. “I hope you like the vegetables, Donna,” she said, pointing at the box of vegetables she started to bring me, some that, according to her, were possible thanks to me.

“I'm sure they're delicious,” I commented with a different tone, calmer, pleased by her presence, sad because she was leaving. I didn't want her to leave, that was my biggest torture.

“Do you want to stay a little longer, silly?” Angie asked, peeking out of my dress. I should thank my doll. Angie did everything possible to make her stay with me a little longer, even if it was just a few minutes. “We can play cards.”

“Oh, I'm, I'm sorry but... It's, it's late, I have to go,” (Y/N) said, bending down to be at the doll's level. “We'll play tomorrow.”

I sighed, watching her walk away again, how she disappeared into the fog, how she abandoned me. The promise she would return the next day was no longer enough for me. Her ephemeral presence, her shy smile, her gaze, soon became an addiction that I could no longer bear.

I could do something, I needed to do something, but I couldn't. Every night, like that one, I looked at myself in the mirror, contemplating my deformed face. What would be the point of spending more time with her? Sooner or later she would discover what I am like, my horrible appearance, the face of... Of a monster.

I knew I was deluding myself, I had to stop dreaming of her, of her saying those words I so needed to hear. It wasn't possible, it would never be possible.

“Cazzo!” I screamed furiously, hitting my reflection, breaking the cruel mirror into a thousand pieces, furious, losing control again, the control of not being able to... Love her.

“Porca miseria! Ti odio!” I shouted, taking out my frustration on the vanity table, letting the crystals fall to the floor, sparkling, camouflaging themselves with my tears.

I hated myself, I couldn't stand myself. I couldn't stand seeing my ruined face, one you could never fall in love with.

“Donna, Donna!”

Angie, as always, came to my aid.

“Sono... Sono un mostro...” I sobbed, burying my face in my hands, crying inconsolably.

Angie's footsteps broke the glass, climbing my body, hugging me as always when I lost control. I wouldn't have done it without her. I would have probably given up.

“Come on, Donna, don't cry... You're not a monster,” the doll said, patting my back.

“(Y/N) will never feel the same way about me, not with this look...” I sobbed, confessing my own feelings, my love for her, an inevitable, intense love.

“Enough of complaining, silly Donna,” Angie said, sick of my increasingly frequent attacks, attacks that I had when (Y/N) left, always when she left. “Are you stupid?”

“What?” I asked furiously, raising my head. “Angie, I'm not in the mood for nonsense.”

“You're the nonsense, Donna,” she scolded me. “You've been crazy about that girl for months and you haven't done anything, anything!”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked nervously, surprised by the puppet's very different attitude.

“Well, I don't know, something, for example. You can't complain about something you haven't even tried, even I, who am just a doll, know that,” she said, with a cocky pose.

“But, but, Angie…” I stammered, confused, knowing that she was right, that I was a coward. I always was.

“No buts, silly Donna, you have to tell (Y/N) that you love her,” she said, leaving me glued to the chair, stepping on the glass that I broke, seeing my horrible reflection in it.

“No, I can't,” I said, looking away from the glass.

“Fine, then don't complain,” Angie joked, making an unpleasant gesture with her hand.

“What the hell do you want me to do?” I asked, angry, clenching my fists tightly. “Do you expect her to fall in love with me just like that?”

“Tell her, silly Donna, use your charms,” the doll indicated, leaving me pensive, laughing nervously.

“I don't have any of that,” I sighed, passing a hand over my forehead.

“Mm... Maybe you need a little help...” Angie murmured. “Come, Donna, I have an idea, come, come.”

“What, what do you want?” I asked, following the doll's jumps, jumps that took me to the basement phone.

“Alcina, call her,” the doll said, extending the phone towards me. I shook my head.

“Alcina? No, no way,” I said, crossing my arms.

“She knows how to deal with women, not like you. If you stop being so proud and ask her for advice, maybe you'll stop smashing mirrors at night,” the doll said, dialing a number, leaving me alone with the phone.

“Hey, wait,” I said nervously, when the signal started to ring.

“Hello, hello, this is Dimitrescu Castle...” a mocking voice said, to which I rolled my eye. “If you want to order wine, dial one; if you want to be one of our maids, dial two; if you want us to rip out your guts and feed the crows with them for disturbing us at this time of night, please wait...”

“Daniela...” I sighed, recognizing my niece's voice. She was always that sinister. “It's, it's me...”

“Who are you? Apart from a new meal for mother...” the vampire asked. I gritted my teeth and sighed, thinking about whether to hang up or let her talk. Maybe asking my sister for advice wasn't such a bad idea.

“D-Donna,” I stammered without being able to help it. My body was shaking, and so was my voice.

“Oh, Aunt Donna! How nice to hear your voice!” the young Dimitrescu shrieked, making me have to move the phone away from my ear. “How are you?”

“F-Fine,” I stammered again, clearing my throat. “Is, is your mother there?”

“Of course… MOTHER!” she shrieked again.

I sighed, waiting impatiently, not knowing what I was going to say to her, what exactly I wanted.

“Daniela, don't be scandalous…” I heard on the other end of the phone. My nerves were getting worse. “It's Aunt Donna, mother.”

“Oh, Donna, what a late… Surprise…” my sister joked, with a seductive tone, as always. I didn't want to think about what she was doing.

“A, Alcina…” I murmured, scratching the back of my neck, looking for Angie with my eye. She wasn't there, that cowardly doll had left me alone. “I have, I have to talk to you.”

“Mm, at this time of the night? What’s wrong, dear? Have you had a crisis?” the lady in white asked. I nodded.

“Too many,”  I answered briefly.

“I see… Do you want me to send you a maid?” she asked kindly, relaxing the seduction of her usual voice.

“No, no,” I shook my head abruptly, nervously holding the telephone cord. “I want, I want to talk to you… It's… It's something personal.”

“Mm, wow, you've caught my attention,” she said amused, laughing softly. “Tell me, dear.”

“I… I don't really know where to start,” I said, controlling my breathing, which prevented me from speaking clearly.

“It's that girl, right? The girl from the church…” she said, using that ability for people that I was incapable of having.

“Y-Yes,” I said. There was no need to lie.

“You haven't hurt her, have you?” Alcina murmured in a serious tone.

“No, of course I haven’t,” I said, annoyed by that accusation. “I… I… I'm… I'm… in love with her, Alcina,” I confessed, closing my eye, letting out my feelings from my heart, some that I couldn't, that I didn't know how to express.

“How sweet of you, Donna,” my sister joked, laughing, as if she was making fun of me. “What's the problem? According to what I've heard, she spends almost every day at your house.”

“Y-Yes, but… but… I, I don't know if she…” I murmured, fighting my words, which refused to sound as they should. “I, I don't know how…”

“Mm, you don't know if she feels the same,” Alcina finished for me. I nodded again, with my eye wet with tears.

“No, I… I want to, I want to tell her but, I can't,” I sighed, passing a hand over my forehead.

“You're blind, Donna. Let's see, why would a villager like her go to your house every day?” she asked with irony. “That girl is crazy about you, I tell you, I know those looks.”

“I don't think so,” I murmured with a sad voice. “No one, no one could feel anything for me…”

“Oh, Donna, not again,” the lady in white sighed. “Your only problem is that you are such a coward.”

“I told you…” an unexpected Angie whispered in my ear, startling me.

“Angie, I'm talking,” I protested with my hand on the device. “Yes, I am a coward… But, but if she felt something for me, she would have done something about it.”

“You are so naive, my dear…” Alcina mocked, dragging out her words. “Wake up, you are a Lord, she is a villager, do you know what that means?”

“No,” I said in a stern tone, tired of everyone laughing at me.

“It means that she would never believe that someone as powerful as you could notice someone like her, do you understand?”

“No…” I sighed tired, wanting to hang up and break down in tears again.

“Donna, for Gods' sake, react,” Alcina said, with an impatient tone, making me jump. “If you don't do anything, she won't either. Stop being that... stupid.”

“I didn't call you to insult me,” ​​I said with a dark voice, hitting the table with my fingers. “I, I called you to help me. I, l, love her very much and I don't, I don't know what to do.”

“Mm, I guess being direct isn't your thing, huh?” Alcina whispered, with a different voice, but without losing that mocking touch. “Then you'll have to do something... Make her fall in love with you.”

“That's easy for someone like you but... I, I don't... Cazzo, Alcina, it's the first time I feel that way for someone... I'm completely lost,” I said almost desperately.

“I understand,” she said, with a cold tone. “Well, then start with something simple, why don't you invite her to dinner?”

“Dinner?” I asked confused.

“Mm,” the lady murmured. “They say you cook wonderfully, it could be a good point. You know, a delicious meal, some candles, maybe romantic music… If she doesn't notice with that… She's even more stupid than you.”

“It's not funny,” I growled at that mocking tone, but thinking about that idea, one that didn't seem so bad.

“It's not a joke, dear… Listen to your older sister, mm? Invite that village girl to dinner with you, and the rest… Well, I'm sure it will come by itself.”

I thought about that advice, that proposal, a lot. Alcina had hundreds of women at her disposal, but I wasn't Alcina, I was… A monster.

But nothing she said seemed to want to hurt me. I knew she cared about me, she really did. Try or lose (Y/N) forever, what a dilemma.

But luck seemed to be on my side. It was a simple, nervous request, but one that (Y/N) accepted without thinking.

In less time than I would have liked, she was with me, dining by candlelight, enjoying my food, my company, almost as much as I did hers.

“Do you, do you like it?” I asked fearfully, starting a conversation that had not existed until that moment. (Y/N) looked at me and nodded with a smile, taking a sip of her glass of wine.

“It's delicious, Donna,” she said in a soft voice, her features adored by the candlelight, her cheeks flushed by the wine, or by embarrassment.

I laughed shyly, playing with my food, not knowing what to do, or say, as always, that was never going to change.

“I, I used your vegetables,” I said awkwardly, catching her attention again. “They are of excellent quality.”

“Mm, thanks,” she said amused, winking at me. “You know what? You never cease to surprise me,” the girl commented, sighing.

“Why do you say so?” I asked curiously, looking cautiously at the phone off the table.

I didn't particularly like Alcina listening to everything, but at least she was kind enough to offer to lend me a hand, to help me if things weren't going well.

“Well... You save my father's life, you're kind... You cook... Wonderfully... Who are you?” she asked amused, playing with her fork.

“I, I guess I’m Donna,” I said nervously.

“Ahem, ahem,” a distorted clearing of throat sounded in the living room, making me blush. It was Alcina, there was no doubt.

“What was that?” (Y/N) asked, looking at the source of the sound.

“Oh, it was nothing, it was probably Angie,” I said nervously, diverting her attention.

“She can't help it, huh?” the girl joked, with a tender smile. I laughed nervously, shaking my head.

“It's true,” I commented, drinking some wine, accustomed to her looking away when I moved my veil.

Stars shinin' bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"

Birds singin' in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me

The music interrupted our conversation, a slow, romantic music that I hadn't put on. My doll got off the record player, making me groan nervously.

“Angie, fermate la musica!” I yelled at the doll, who ran away.

“No, no, wait… I like this song,” (Y/N) said, stopping my attempt to go to the player with a soft hand on my wrist. “You don't?”

“I… Um, yes, I do…” I sighed having her so close to me, hearing the soft humming that accompanied the song.

“Do you want to dance, Donna?” she asked, getting even closer, taking my hands by surprise, causing an inevitable tremble in mine. Automatically, without wanting to, I shook my head.

“N-No… I… I don't know how to dance,” I said shyly, letting myself be carried away by the swing of her hand in mine.

“Dance, damn it!” a furious squeal came from the phone, increasing my blush.

“What?” (Y/N) asked, with a confused smile, returning her gaze to mine after a few seconds. “Calm down, I'll show you, come…”

“Okay, okay,” I said nervously, letting (Y/N) drag me to the middle of the room, moving my hand to her perfect waist while she placed hers on my shoulder, starting to move slowly, very slowly.

A slow, clumsy, but intense, comforting dance. Her hand on my waist, our fingers intertwined, was the closest I would ever be to paradise.

“Dream a Little dream of me…” she murmured, when the song ended, with her body still pressed against mine, lowering her hand to gently grab my waist, opening her eyes, looking at me strangely. “You haven't been bad at all, Donna…”

“… I… Thank you…” I stammered, letting myself be carried away by my instincts, also grabbing her waist while her expression changed, raising her hands to my covered face. I acted reflexively by putting my hands on her wrists.

“Stop, (Y/N),” I whispered, trembling, trembling with fear. She couldn't see me, or I would lose her.

“I would like you to take off your veil, Donna, so I can kiss you,” (Y/N) whispered, with a sincere look, leaving me glued to the floor, with my hands shaking on her wrists.

“Kiss me?” I asked distrustfully, letting her hands remove the black fabric from my face under her watchful gaze. “You, you don't…”

“Oh… You're beautiful,” she said, caressing my cheek, my trembling body. I should have gotten angry, I should have screamed, I didn't. “Let me kiss you, please…”

“Please…” I said, approaching her, closing my eye, brushing her lips with mine, melting into the pleasure of my first kiss, of our first kiss.

“I wasn't wrong about you,” she said amused, moving away from that kiss, from that first kiss that left me almost sobbing. “I wasn't wrong to fall in love with you.”

“Ugh, finally!” Alcina shouted as we kissed again, with more enthusiasm, laughing at those voices. I wonder if (Y/N) suspected who was on the other end of the phone.

[radiant-reid]

Dad!spence x reader blurb where he was gone for a long time while on a case and his 4 year old daughter is very upset and teary and maybe even slightly angry asking him where he’s been 🥺

Spencer has only been home for five minutes before you're having to break some more bad news to him. "Heads up, Aubrey's a little mad."

He knew this day was coming when she wouldn't think he was a hero for being away. It didn't help that prior to the case he just came back from, he had been in DC for two weeks. That meant school drop-offs, pick-ups, soccer training, and ballet practice were all done by him. And then he was gone.

He takes a deep breath before knocking on her doorframe, waiting for his little best friend to pull her head up from her book. Despite what you said, he's still hoping she'll reconsider her feelings upon seeing him.

"Hi, Aubrey-strawberry." He says, walking over to sit on the end of her bed like she is.

She shuffles further away from him, keeping at least three feet of distance between them. "Go away."

"I want to talk to you about me having to leave." He informs her.

"Why?" She asks. "You don't care how I feel."

His heart breaks at the emotionlessness in her voice because he knows it's how he sounds when he's truly upset and trying to mask it.

"Baby, that's not true." He assures her. "You and momma matter the most to me in everything."

"Where were you?" She asks, her voice breaking slightly.

"I had to go to work in the night." He tells her honestly.

She turns to look at him and he sees the tears forming in her big brown eyes. "Why?"

"Some people really needed my help." He explains it delicately and without any hint of gruesomeness. "I'm sorry I had to leave you, though."

"You didn't say goodbye." She reminds him.

He nods. "I didn't want you to wake up."

"But I didn't know where you were." She tells him. "I was so sad and scared."

He can't give her space then, and he reaches over to pull her into his lap. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to make you feel like that." She cries on his shoulder softly, and he feels terrible for ever leaving her. "Hey, why don't we have a system?" She pulls back to look at him suspiciously. "Maybe when I go away in the night, I'll write you a little note and leave a fact about where I'm going so momma can read it to you." He offers.

"You'll write one every time?" She checks, and he nods. "And leave them on my bedside table?" He nods once more. "Okay." She agrees easily, snuggling into his chest. It makes him feel so much better in an instant. "But I can read it because I'm a good reader."

He laughs at her while nodding. "You're right. You are my smart little girl."

[peachhcs]

mint rocky road

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

will decides he wants to try and reconcile with samy during the family vacation

2.7k words

i'm trying to sort of post these in order of the timeline, but i like to jump around a little so it's a bit more fun :) this was like lowkey sad at first, but then it got somewhat happier 🤗

au masterlist

it only took will three days before deciding he should try talking to samy. the two had been avoiding one another since his family got to the lakehouse because obviously what else were they supposed to say to one another? avoiding each just seemed like the next best option. although, the boy kept thinking about what his mom and sister said a few weeks ago. it wouldn’t hurt to try and talk. 

if it went horribly then at least they were pretty good at dodging one another. the big lakehouse finally had its perks. 

everyone was wiped out from the long day in town. there was someone in every room either asleep or close to it, so it seemed like the perfect opportunity to talk. will wandered the house in search of the brunette knowing she liked to hide herself in rooms no one ever looked in, but when he searched in all the hiding spots he could remember, he didn’t find any trace of the youngest hughes. it wasn’t until will wandered outside when he saw a faint figure all the way down on the dock. bingo. 

the walk down the yard had will running through every way this conversation could go. she could walk away before he even got there. she’d start bitching at him. she’d tell him she doesn’t want to talk to him ever again. the possibilities were looking a little endless, but the hockey player couldn’t be afraid. 

once upon a time, samy knew him like the back of her hand and vice versa. she was his best friend, so somewhere in there, will knew she wanted to at least hear him out. 

he would hear her out if it were the other way around, so will took his chances. the closer he got, the harder his heart beat against his chest in a rapid rhythm similar to the panic attack he had back at the combine. everything in will wanted to turn around and just continue avoiding samy, but the small part in him that included ryan and gabe’s nagging words kept his feet moving towards the girl now just inches away. 

words weren’t coming to him right now, so the hockey player slowly sat down beside her in an open spot almost as if she knew he was coming out here, so she left the space there. samy didn’t look his way, but she knew he was there. her own heart was now beating a bruise against her chest with will’s close proximity. 

the silence quickly filled in around them with both of their eyes glued to the lake. it was almost funny how they didn’t know what to say because if it were any other circumstance, the two could never shut up around one another. as soon as the smith’s were in the driveway, samy would pounce on the siblings with excitement in her bones to tell them about everything they missed since last summer. none of that happened this year which made this summer already feel a lot different than the previous ones. and maybe it was also a mix of growing up and childhood excitement escaping everyone now that they were all adults. 

“hey stranger,” samy finally broke their deafening silence. her gaze found will’s whose eyes were already on hers as soon as her mouth opened. a crinkle of a smile found its way to her lips sending a little buzz through the blonde. 

“hey,” will whispered like he was too afraid to speak any louder. 

“i didn't think you were coming this year,” the girl hummed, removing her gaze from will’s. the little frown replacing the smile on her lips hurt will more than he liked to admit. 

“i’d never miss the family vacation,” the boy said, but the brunette shrugged. 

“i just thought you’d skip because..you know,” she didn’t need to say it for will to know what she was talking about. her frown deepened along with his at her words. 

“i was actually hoping we could um..um talk about that. this. us,” he stumbled over his words making his cheeks flush in embarrassment. 

“i don’t really know if there’s much to talk about,” samy said all she could to will a month ago and he just pushed her away, so she didn’t know what else could really be said. 

will’s silence made her look back over at him. his gaze wasn’t on hers, but she could see the way his brain was turning, running through all the things he could say to her. his face was set, eyes sunken in as the sadness clouded over him and eventually her too. 

but god, did he look good. despite avoiding him, samy caught glimpses of him with her brothers in the last few days. his curls were grown back out around his ears and whatever he was doing in the offseason was really paying off. he’d grown a lot—arms and legs muscling up and his abs showing a lot more than usual. will was always fit, but for some reason he looked extra good and samy couldn’t really stop staring. 

“will you at least hear me out?” the blonde spoke again and samy snapped out of her little daze of him. 

his look was a bit pleading making it hard to say no, but she wouldn’t ever say no anyway, “i’m giving you five minutes to say something good.” 

“ten?” will negotiated knowing he wouldn’t be able to explain everything in just five minutes. 

his little pleading look continued and shit, he was hard to say no to even when they weren’t on speaking terms. “okay, fine. ten minutes, start talking.” 

“i know i really fucked up and i know i should’ve talked to you more. i-i don’t really know why i didn’t. there was a lot going on in my mind which i know isn’t an excuse, but i thought i could just figure everything out myself which was another dumb mistake. when we got back from worlds everything was going to happen so fast, it kind of freaked me out and i started making stupid decisions,” will began, eyes on anything but samy as he talked. 

“you pushed me away,” the girl stated. 

“i know and i shouldn’t have done that. i thought i was making the right choice by doing that and i realize now that it was the very, very wrong choice,” the blonde shook his head. 

“why didn’t you just talk to me? you know you can always talk to me,” samy’s tone softened at the last part creating this pinch in will’s heart hearing her talk to him like that. 

he finally met her eyes and it took everything in him to not break down. her expression was a mix of hurt and betrayal which was something will never wanted to see, especially when he was the cause of it all,. 

“i know. i-i got scared, i guess. i was scared i was going to lose you or something once i went to california. it was so hard for us to talk during the school year, i started imagining the worse if i was in california. i mean, come on, samy. you’re this amazing, popular person who’s awesome at soccer. you know you have guys at your feet lined up to talk to you. i thought letting you go would be better so i wasn’t holding you back and you could find someone who could actually be there for you. i thought i couldn’t be the boyfriend you wanted all the way across the country,” the tears couldn’t be stopped as will continued talking. his eyes glossed over, desperately trying to hold them in and samy didn’t look any better. 

she looked away hoping he wouldn’t see her own tears, but they both knew she was crying if he was crying. “you weren’t ever gonna lose me, will. i told you, i’m with you wherever you go. i don’t care about those other guys who are in my dms because you’re the one i chose,” her voice broke, sending will’s tears down his cheeks. 

“i know that now. i’m really, really sorry i didn’t get that until now. i never should’ve pushed you away. i got in my own head and i thought i was helping both of us,” the blonde frowned, quickly wiping the tears away. 

“you really hurt me, will. like a lot.” 

“i know,” the boy squeaked out. 

“i don’t really know if things can ever really be the same between us,” the admission hurt, but will knew it was coming. 

“can we at least try? at least the friends part?” not being together was fine, but will couldn’t not be her friend. 

“i don’t know..maybe it would be best for us to just..keep things how they are?” samy sighed, breaking will’s heart even further even though he deserved most of this. 

the silence engulfed them again, but neither of them moved from their spot on the dock. will’s gaze drifted down to where samy toyed with her charm bracelet. he noticed all the charms still there, even the ones he got her, so he took that as his comfort in knowing that somewhere in the back of samy’s mind, he was still there. 

not knowing what else could be said, will finally pushed himself to his feet. he watched the brunette for a moment, wondering if she’d turn around and tell him to stay or something, but she didn’t even move a muscle. 

that pinch in will’s heart grew larger as he forced himself to walk away back to the house. at least he tried. 

samy listened to his retreating footsteps, waiting until he was out of earshot to fully break down. her head sunk into her hands where the sobs quickly escaped her lips in little bursts between the pants. 

she wanted to take him back so bad. just looking at his broken expression made her wanna lunge at him, but she needed to hold some self-respect for herself. words alone weren’t going to fix all the broken things between them. she feared their relationship would never be the same anymore and that was scary because will was all samy’s ever known. 

a few minutes passed when the younger girl heard another pair of footsteps on the dock behind her. she expected it to be her mom or one of her brothers, so when long locks of blonde hair appeared beside her and a gentle hand belonging to grace, samy was very surprised. 

she hadn’t spoken to the oldest smith sibling since the breakup. she didn’t know if grace hated her now, so she sort of avoided her too, but the gentle look on the older girl’s face told samy that was far from the case. 

“are you okay?” grace wondered, taking the spot her brother was just in. 

“i don’t really know,” samy admitted because her heart and head kept telling her two very different things. 

“sorry, that was a bad question. i-i know we haven’t really talked a lot since…but i’m here to talk if you want. i thought my brother was really stupid for doing what he did. we all thought so. i just came down to check on you because i saw him come in,” the older girl continued a bit shyly. 

“we were just talking. he-he was..apologizing,” the younger brunette explained briefly. 

“he was?” 

“yeah. i didn’t really..forgive him. i just don’t know if i can…or if i even should. it’s so confusing in my mind right now,” samy frowned. 

“that’s okay. you don’t have to know all the answers right now. he hurt you and you’re hesitant. that’s perfectly okay,” grace reassured, rubbing her hand across samy’s arm. 

“he was my best friend and i don’t know anything but him.” 

“well, do you want him back in your life in any way?” grace hummed. 

“like a small part of me does, but i don’t even know where i’d start with that,” obviously, her and will wouldn’t just jump back into another like nothing happened. 

“you don’t have to know. starting back as friends is easy if that’s something you want. relearn him as friends and if your heart is still pulling you to him, then i’d say that’s your sign that you want him back as something more than that,” the older blonde gave her best advice based on what she’s learned when it came to this kind of thing. 

“i’m just scared i’ll get hurt again and i can’t do that.” 

“i get that, trust me, i do. it’s really scary, but i know my brother is really sorry and he really wants to be your friend again if you’ll have him. that’s not to excuse what happened and what he did, but i don’t think he could ever dream of hurting you again based on how much he’s hurt.” 

grace’s words sat in samy’s head for the entire rest of the time they were outside until they went back in. it was late. grace retreated to bed, but the younger brunette needed some sort of sweet treat, so she ventured into the kitchen before stopping in her tracks when she saw will sitting at the counter. 

his back was to her and samy considered turning around so she didn’t have to talk to him again, but something in her put one foot in front of the other until she was right beside him, 

“late night snack?” the girl spoke quietly because she didn’t want to wake up the sleeping house. 

her voice startled the boy as he jumped, quickly whipping his head in her direction. “oh, yeah. i couldn’t really sleep,” the blonde flushed. 

“we think alike,” samy mumbled as she walked around to dig through the freezer for any ice cream. 

will watched her from where he sat, heart racing still. being in her presence so close after not seeing one another for a month set his body on fire because if only she knew how much he missed her and hoped that a small part of her missed him too. 

“want any?” samy turned around once she found the carton she wanted. it was mint rocky road which was one of their favorites they always shared together. will wondered if she did that on purpose or not. 

“sure,” the boy said, so samy handed him his own spoon and popped the cover off. 

they took turns awkwardly digging their spoons into the ice cream without speaking. the only sound was someone’s snores in one of the rooms downstairs that was most definitely mr. smith because he snored loud. 

“i-i’m sorry for being kind of harsh earlier. i-i..there’s been a lot on my mind. it’s been weird seeing you after..everything..” the brunette began while will’s eyes glued to her own. “i’m still trying to figure out how i feel because honestly, i don’t really know. i’m really hurt still, yet i can’t ever be mad at you because you’re..you were my best friend and you’re family.” samy shook her head. 

will stayed silent, not sure where she was going with all of this. 

“i do want to try and be friends with you again. we were..inseparable once upon a time and as much as i don’t want to believe it, history is hard to forget about. you’re still someone i think about a lot and i don’t think that’s something that can be thrown away just like that,” her gaze found will’s. 

everything in his system practically exploded hearing her say that because god, he hoped she would. 

“really?” was all he could manage. 

“yeah, really. if..if we ever wanted to go back to..i think we need to start at the beginning first, you know?” samy’s eyes dropped from his back to the ice cream. 

“right, i totally agree. i’m really glad you said that,” a little smile found its way to his lips and so did samy’s. 

“we watched each other throw up everywhere, break bones, face plant on the ice..i think it would be impossible if we stopped being friends,” samy giggled, something will hadn't heard in a long time. 

“plus, i don’t think we could avoid one another forever with our parents being best friends,” will added and the girl nodded in agreement. 

“i still am hurt by everything, but i’m willing to start back as friends.” 

the two exchanged a smile and they spent the rest of the night eating all of the mint rocky road as if they were kids 

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

déjà vu

Summary: After Age of Ultron, the team are left with the decision of what to do with Wanda, and they’re not in agreement. Natasha becomes staunchly defensive of the witch, remembering her own fate at SHIELD was decided in a similar manner.

(Summaries are tricky but Nat defends Wanda, R defends Nat, then they comfort each other at the end)

Word Count: 1188

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff & Reader; Wanda Maximoff & Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: Half the team are being mean to Wanda and Natasha gets sad :(

A/N: Based on this request. Thank you all for the awesome response to my last fic, it gave me the motivation to write despite everything else going on rn, so thank you and reminder to reblog and comment on fics if you can, because that’s what keeps writers posting their fics on here :) Enjoy!

»»————-　★　————-««

"We cannot let her waltz around scot-free without any repentance for her crimes!"

"She just lost her homeland and her twin brother; you don't think that's enough punishment?"

"She's HYDRA. She volunteered. She is everything we've been fighting against and you want us to, what? take her under our wing? make her even stronger than she already is?"

"Yes! That's the kind of power we want on our side-"

To nobody's surprise, Steve and Tony are at odds, driving the argument. Thor had backed Steve with the insight that second chances had done his brother a world of good. But everyone remembers the Battle of New York, and soon even Steve is wishing the God of Thunder would rescind his support. Bruce agrees with Tony, still racked with guilt over the Johannesburg incident. Then Clint voices his support for Steve, upon a conditional level of trust, to return the sides to an imbalance.

Sam and Rhodey use their newcomer status to remove their ballot from the decision; the two of them sneaking off, likely to do better things with their time.

The argument continues, never ceasing for breaths since everyone talks over each other, constantly interrupting the previous point. You grimace from your place in the corner; sitting, observing, and waiting for them to tire themselves out before you say your piece. Natasha meets your eye. She is doing the same.

"She's a child!" Steve continues

"She's going on 26! Steve you were Captain America by that age, I was the most famous CEO in the world! We weren't let off the hook for anything, were we? We weren't told we were 'just kids so it's all okay'. I paid for my mistakes, same as you did, and this glowing ball in my chest is proof of that."

"That's enough," Natasha finally speaks. Her voice is all it takes to bring the group to silence. "She's a victim. She was manipulated into her actions and she came around as soon as she realised that. We've all made mistakes, and joining the Avengers was our chance at redemption; let her have that."

"Her actions are her own, and I'm sorry, but they're too severe to wave off as a mistake, or ignorance"

"Is that the same with me?"

"What?"

"See, I was a victim too, but no one ever treated me like one."

"Nat-"

"No. Nobody was controlling me when I went through the Red Room; my actions were all my own, same as Wanda. But when your childhood is defined by manipulation and indoctrination, how much does that matter? I did the only thing I knew how to do and followed orders, same as Wanda, and I lost people along the way, same as Wanda. Have you even spoken to her, Tony? She's known since the age of 10 that your missile killed her parents, and HYDRA took advantage of that; you think you'd keep a levelhead if you found someone responsible for your parents' deaths?

So no. I spent too long thinking my transgressions were all my own, and I won't stand here and let Wanda believe the same."

Natasha strides out of the door with purpose and speed, while all eyes in the room track her movements in silence. It is only when the door slams that the team begins to break from their stupor.

You look around unsurely, meeting everyone's eyes as if to confirm its truth. You are the first to break the silence. "I'm going after her." Nobody contests.

You don't rush, you know where Natasha is after all and you know she needs time alone, but you also know to check up on her after an argument like that. You were there when Clint brought her back to SHIELD, when Fury and the archer broke into arguments echoingly similar to the one the team just had. You remember how much she struggled from her own mind, how they left her in a cell, just as the Avengers now have to Wanda, and you remember the thin walls, where Natasha could overhear all their arguments regardless of how you tried to distract her. 

It isn't a surprise to you when you open Natasha's door and she refuses to speak. She watches you enter and makes space for you to sit beside her on the bed, but she doesn't speak. You talk to her for a bit, praising her stance, but it's clear she needs longer alone.

"I'll be here when you need," you say. She nods. You walk back to where you're needed most, passing through the common room still full of arguing Avengers on your way.

"Stop thinking about yourselves for once, and think about your fucking team," you say without even stopping to look at them, then you continue your path out of the room.

»»————-　★　————-««

Guilt sets in on the remaining Avengers as they fall to silence yet again. Clint reminds them what Natasha went through and from that memory, Natasha's hasty exit, and your outburst after seeing the assassin, they can all conclude how much the topic has hurt their teammate.

Clint apologies through her bedroom door; the others say sorry to her face once she lets them in. Natasha sighs, then nods her acceptance of their apologies. "The person you really should be saying this to is Wanda. She deserves support, not solitary isolation."

"Yeah, I don't think it's all that solitary," Tony says. He flicks his wrist to the wall, and soon enough FRIDAY is displaying a feed of Wanda's cell.

"Is that Y/N?" Steve asks, squinting for a better look.

Meanwhile, Natasha smiles, recognising the scene in front of her and knowing, with certainty, that it was you. She watches you and Wanda sit cross-legged on the floor with a plastic yellow board coming up between you. You both analyse it closely until you pull a circular blue chip from your hand and slide it in.

"That's four!" you cheer. Pointing out the four circles you had managed to connect. Wanda frowns, but you can tell it is not akin to the sorrow she had felt so often recently. At this moment, her mind is distracted entirely from that and focused only on the game. 

"We have to play again. I can win this, I know," the Sokovian frowns. "I get first move."

You're still dividing the 'connect 4' pieces into their respective colours when a knock sounds on the cell door. You look up as Natasha opens the door, greeting Wanda with a smile.

"You doing okay?" you ask.

Natasha nods. "Thank you for being here, Y/N. And as for Wanda-" she switches her gaze- "we've got a room prepared for you if you're willing to stay. You can learn to control your powers; the team agreed I can train you."

"I would like that," Wanda mumbles, her nerves around the assassin still clear.

"Come on then, I'll take you to your room.” Natasha smiles and escorts her out, but before falling out of your earshot, she leans into Wanda conspiratorially, “I’ll even give you the secret to beating Y/N at that game.”

[missmonsters2]

—Just Last Lifetime

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: You didn't move after Tyler knocked you down, and it would've been over had Enid not come when she did. Wednesday stays beside your hospital bed diligently, hand tracing yours as she plans how to torture you for the rest of her life and how she looks forward to letting you plague her. But the moment you wake up, nothing will ever be the same again.

Warnings: Angst. Sad!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks.

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: wondering if I've lost my touch on angst 🥹 so I hope this makes you all suffer <3 Part 2 will be out next Wednesday!

Count: ~4.6k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The smell of disinfecting spray, pine, and bleach filled Wednesday's noise. There are sounds of people briskly walking and doors sliding open and shut. A TV in the room is turned on at a low volume, meant to keep her distracted, but all she can focus on is that her chair is too squeaky. 

The taste of burnt coffee Enid brought her earlier has long been forgotten despite how it lingers on her tongue. 

Wednesday doesn't remember getting to the hospital. 

Well, she does—in bits and pieces. 

One moment, she was being strangled by Tyler in his hyde form, and the next, she was released, and you were on Tyler's back, arms wrapped around his large neck as you squeezed with everything you had and then some. 

But you were so small compared to Tyler, and the second he grabbed your arm and slung you around to face him, Wednesday knew it was over. He crushed your wrist, broke your elbow, and hung you like a ragdoll before whipping you into the nearest tree before Enid came and saved you both. 

Wednesday only briefly had a moment to check on you, to feel your weak pulse before she had to keep going, especially at Enid's wordless insistence that she would take care of you. 

And only because it was Enid that Wednesday left to take care of the rest of the job of killing Crackstone. 

It was only because it was Enid, who adored you nearly as much as Wednesday did, that she knew Tyler wouldn't be escaping mercifully, and Wednesday could go do what only she could do. 

But after that fight? After capturing Thornhill? Wednesday didn't stay to gloat. She turned and immediately returned to you, her heart feeling heavy, weighing her steps down when she found you exactly where she had left you.

Too scared, Enid said. She was too afraid to move you in case there was some serious damage. 

Wednesday doesn't remember the ambulance and the medics. She doesn't remember them carrying you on a stretcher into the vehicle. She does remember vaguely throwing out haunting threats if they didn't let her ride with you. 

Lucky, the doctor said. You were incredibly lucky that your gift of air manipulation softened the blow of your head against the tree, and you didn't die upon impact. 

Wednesday looks at you, how your head is wrapped around in bandages, and covers your eyes. The machines and tubes that are hooked up to you and assist in making your chest move up and down in almost too slow of breaths. She looks at the discoloration of the skin of your arms and legs and wants to scoff. 

Wednesday reaches out, her hand stopping just inches above yours. She hesitates, worried that even the weight of her small hands will hurt you. It's a familiar feeling she has now. 

Worry.

Consideration.

The depth of how she feels it is only meant for you.

Wednesday pulls her hand back, placing it back into her lap, where she holds her hands tightly together. 

It doesn't feel so lucky. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"Why do you insist on following me?" Wednesday turned around, glaring at you while you came to a stop to avoid bumping into her. 

"Well," you tilted your head, smiling crookedly at the gloomy girl before you. "Why do you insist on being alone?"

It was already a bad sign that Wednesday was beginning to find the familiarity of your crooked smile something she wanted to keep for herself. 

Wednesday knew then that she should make you go away, that she should open her mouth and say the most horrific things that she knows could shred your heart and pride into nothing more than cuts of misery as a reminder you should stay away from her. 

But Wednesday didn't.  

"I'm meant to be alone," Wednesday warned you, Goody's words flashing through her mind as a warning—a condemnation. "I prefer to be alone."

"I don't think so," you shook your head. "I mean, I've followed you this far along. I think you've grown used to my presence."

"Growing used to something doesn't mean I'll miss it if it's gone."

You quirked your brow at Wednesday. "Do you want me to go then?"

Wednesday's eyes flickered away from your face, staring into nothing with her blank face before she looked back at you. 

Your crooked smile returned, and Wednesday clenched her jaw.

"No."

"Then, shall we continue on to investigate...wherever you're taking us?"

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

The days drift and bleed together. Wednesday is a girl used to strict routines. Still, she's finding something rotting about her monotonous day that starts with waking early, getting her hour of writing in the morning, and attending classes (because Weems has bargained her attendance in exchange for a car to take her to and from the hospital every day after class and whenever she wanted on the weekends), sitting in the hospital chair for hours by your bedside, returning home, playing the cello, and going to bed. 

The silence has never bothered Wednesday before, but the lack of your voice—the way you teased her and laughed—Wednesday wants it back. 

The bruising on your arms is fading into something that's an even more gruesome color. She knows it's a sign of healing, but Wednesday remains true to the fact she hates colors.

Wednesday lifts her hand, tracing the lines of your hand so faint and delicately. If those who knew her saw her now, they'd never be able to believe that she was capable of such gentleness. 

You don't flinch. You never do. 

Wednesday can't tell if she's hurting you or not, but you've always been too capable of hiding your feelings and thoughts—perhaps Wednesday never knew all along if she was hurting you. 

The irony of Enid's words calling her out for her callousness and disregard for others rings so true now. 

Wednesday closes her eyes. If she closes them long enough, she can almost hallucinate hearing your voice laugh weakly and telling her it's not as bad as it looks. 

Wednesday opens her eyes, staring back down at your too-still body. 

But it was. It was that bad.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"Did you fight with Enid?"

"That's none of your concern."

You laughed, and it sounded like the strings of her cello that carry during the late hours of the night. 

Wednesday worshipped the sound of her cello.

"Well, fair enough. I don't know why I asked since it's so clear from Enid's huffiness all day that you two clearly did fight. She's been ranting to Yoko and me non-stop that she's not returning to this room."

The words twinged in Wednesday's heart, plucking at its strings in an unfamiliar rhythm. 

"Good," Wednesday bit out anyway. "This room can finally look more dreary."

You smiled as you sat on Wednesday's bed while she sat at her desk. You hooked your feet at the legs of her chair and began to drag it until it was turned towards you before pulling her closer. 

Wednesday looked displeased, her lips pressed in a thin line, and her eyebrows knitted in uncompromising sternness. 

"Admit it, Wednesday," you said in a sing-song tone that Wednesday detested because you were about to say something ridiculous. "You feel alone, and it doesn't feel as good as you thought."

Your words pricked at her, but Wednesday remained stubborn. 

"Enid wasn't the only one in my company."

It was such a roundabout way of saying it; it made Wednesday want to roll her eyes into the back of her head and slice out her tongue.

You smiled wider. "I suppose not," you agreed with a conceding nod. Wednesday felt victorious, but the feeling was fleeting with your next words. "But every person is different and fills your life in an irreplaceable way. You must admit that Enid can't be replaced by another."

"And why must I admit that?" Wednesday glared, kicking your feet away from her chair. "I don't need Enid. I have Thing, and I have—" Wednesday's nose scrunched in displeasure. "You." 

You seemed adamant about shaking up her life ever since you entered it. Wednesday, particularly, was disturbed by the constant barrage of emotions you keep trying to drag her into. It was becoming a slippery slope. 

Wednesday's assault didn't seem to bother you as you kept your relaxed expression. 

"As flattering as it is to be the only person, with a body and head attached to my hand, that you need—"

"I didn't say I needed you."

"—You should make up with Enid. I know you miss her, Wednesday."

Wednesday said nothing. She wanted to spout curses at you and make you take back everything you were saying. So ridiculous. So...defeatingly correct.  

You grinned at her. 

"Surround yourself with people you appreciate, Wednesday. There's no way someone as lovely as you could be destined to be alone. Ravens are still known to feed with other flocks and play with the wolves, dogs, and otters."

"Did you just call me lovely?" Wednesday's lip curled in disgust.

You laughed. "Sorry, someone as hellishly morbid as you."

Wednesday let a rare smile slip. "Finally, a real compliment."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now.

It's just another day, but Wednesday can admit it to herself now.

It's easy now when you're unaware of anything around yourself for Wednesday to admit she appreciates you—more than appreciates you. 

Your weeks of silence have given Wednesday plenty of time on what she'll say when you wake up. Declarations that you belong with her and her treacherous heart belongs to you, so you will do well to treasure it. There might be interrogations about how you've managed to do it, but Wednesday knows the answer, even as simple and stupid as it sounds.

Time.

It was merely just time and your consistency by her side that lured Wednesday to you. 

Wednesday's palm lies flat against yours, her fingers slide down yours until they shift slightly to the side, and then she's holding your limp hand. 

Inane.

Waiting for you was entirely ridiculous and foolish, but nothing could convince Wednesday to be elsewhere. For once, she's at a loss at what else she could do besides wait. 

Wednesday's eyes trail over your face, taking in your long lashes pressed against your cheeks like an everlasting kiss. She takes in the bridge of your nose and down to your lips. 

They've been a little dry since the nurses aren't attentive to such things, so Wednesday has taken it upon herself to occasionally apply chapstick to your lips. 

It's such an intimate gesture, one she'd know you'd appreciate. Yet, you were solely unaware of it. 

Wednesday rests her cheek on the back of your hand while she still holds it. Her eyes flutter shut as she mumbles into the quiet room, "Wake up, so I can tell you that everything I am is yours."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Then.

"I don't like him."

"Who?"

You gave Wednesday a look with your brow raised. "Tyler, obviously."

"You can join the queue," Wednesday looked uninterested in your words. "There seems to be a long line."

"Shouldn't that be an obvious sign that he sucks?" You sighed but kept your eyes on the barista. "Why do you keep spending time with him?"

"There are plenty of people that don't like me, and I find myself to be far superior to most people," Wednesday flipped the page of her book, not quite paying attention to you. 

You look back at Wednesday with a lopsided smile. "I don't think people dislike you, Wednesday. I think they're scared of you."

"As they should be."

You let out another sigh. "So, I guess there's no convincing you that you should stop spending time with Tyler?"

"Do you have any sound reason other than 'his vibes are off'?"

"I don't like the way he looks at you," you spouted off immediately, looking at Tyler again with a reproachful look he seemed unaware of.

Wednesday scoffed, looking up at you. "You sound jealous." 

The words were meant to make you back off. Wednesday imagined that you'd scoff back at her and deny it in a way that would secretly make Wednesday think about late at night.

But then you looked right back at Wednesday with such a serious look in your eyes that made Wednesday clutch her book tightly in caution. 

"I am."

Wednesday had no idea what to make of your blunt words, so she merely turned her attention back to her book, wishing her braids would cover her ears more as they burned. 

It didn't stop Wednesday from spending time with Tyler, but now she kept thinking about you each time she did.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now. 

Wednesday is at the vending machine, staring blankly at the snacks and drinks. Enid insisted that she should stretch her legs and sent Wednesday on a mission to grab snacks for everyone. The werewolf had shoved money into her hand and practically pushed Wednesday out the door. 

Her own reflection stares back at her, and Wednesday admits that she looks worse than she normally does. It's subtle, and perhaps no one but Enid could tell how her eyes are sunken in a little more than usual. Her braids are not completely symmetrical, and the air around her is stale. 

Wednesday's about to put the money given to her into the machine when the phone in her pocket vibrates non-stop. The sensation of it makes Wednesday grimace as she pulls it out. Her eyes roam quickly over the words before she turns around and takes off back to your room. 

The vending machine was two floors down, and Wednesday ran up the stairs instead of taking the excruciatingly slow elevator. She's by no means unfit in any way, but the anticipation makes her breathless as she enters your room. 

Everyone in the room is waiting with bated breath as you shift in your bed, the air suddenly moving around in the room and creating a slight breeze. 

There's a small groan from your lips, and Wednesday is immediately at your side, grasping your hand in hers. The sudden contact makes the breeze disappear as you settle back into stillness. Your eyes flutter a couple of times before they open blearily. 

The room's harsh light blinds you momentarily, and Wednesday immediately uses her other hand and places it just inches above your head to shield you from the direct light. 

You open your eyes more easily, letting things come into focus. Wednesday watches as you seem slightly confused, and Enid rushes to your side, her head popping into view along with Wednesday's hand. 

Your bedside was slightly propped up, but Enid moved to press the button to slowly recline you up further so that you could see everyone. 

"You're awake!" Enid is half-yelling, trying to keep quiet because Wednesday would kill her if her yelling disturbed you in any way, but unable to contain her excitement. "How are you feeling? Should we call the doctor? I think Yoko already did. Oh my god, you're finally awake. The bruising looks like it's gone away for the most part, but now that you're up, it should get better quickly!"

"Jesus, Sinclair," Bianca drawls with a half-scowl. "Give her some breathing room. She's already got Wednesday up in her space, protecting her from the light like a knight in gothic armor."

Enid turns to glare at Bianca, but Wednesday doesn't pay attention to any of it. Her eyes are focused on yours. Your eyes are looking everywhere in the room, looking uncomfortable. Your eyes finally drift to Wednesday, and while they're undoubtedly your eyes, Wednesday feels something amiss. 

It's you...but not. 

The moment you lock eyes with Wednesday, you finally seem to notice that she's holding your hand, and you pull it away awkwardly. The action makes Wednesday slowly pull both her hands back to herself. 

Dread fills her.

You wince a little at the light fully unobstructed, but you adjust. 

"Enid?" You sound confused as you look at the blonde with pink and blue streaks in her hair.

"Yes!" Enid smiles at you, and you smile back unsurely. 

"Am I at the hospital?" You ask slowly, wincing as you touch your head softly and feel the bandage.

"Yeah..." Enid purses her lips. "What's the last thing you remember?"

You blink at the question, silent as you consider your answer. 

"I...I don't know," you eventually say. "I think at the library? People were making such a racket about the news, and I was trying to get away from all the noise in the quad."

Enid's brows furrow at the answer. That was too vague to determine anything. 

You swallow, turning your head to look at Wednesday, who has no expression, and for once, she knows you can't tell what she's really feeling.

"Um...you're the new girl, right?" You fiddle with your blanket awkwardly. "Wednesday, I think? Enid was excited about you arriving, and she'd finally have a roommate."

The words she's been saving for you die in her throat, leaving something hollow for her to swallow down.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Wednesday knew that the damage to your head was serious. However, she didn't think you'd lose a couple months' worth of your memories. 

Amnesia.

That's what the doctor said, but he couldn't determine whether you'd regain them. He seemed hopeful, and while your parents failed to show up and Weems stepped in as acting guardian, he spouted suggestions on how to help you regain them.

But then he also reiterated that it might not come back.

How utterly useless. 

You would be discharged in a few days, free to return to school, where you'd have to take it easy. 

Your roommate Yoko practically assigned herself to look after you since you'd be stuck in your dorm for a few days to fully recover. 

There was a moment when Enid was about to catch you up on everything, but Wednesday pulled her aside first. 

"Don't tell her about me," Wednesday orders.

"What?" Enid's jaw drops before she whisper-yells, "What do you mean?! I've been pulling my hair out for the last couple of months because of you two and you're finally about to get together and you want me to not tell her about it? It better be because you're going to."

Wednesday shakes her head. "She doesn't remember."

"Which is why we should tell her!" Enid is exasperated. 

"There's no point in telling her if she doesn't remember how she felt," Wednesday snaps back, trying to remain quiet. Her eyes peer past Enid's shoulder at you. You're talking with Yoko, staying cautious about Bianca and Xavier there but not saying anything about it. You look briefly at Wednesday as well, pursing your lips in what she thinks is a smile but can't really tell anymore. It's not a look you've given her before.

Wednesday looks back at Enid. "Just because she'll know doesn't mean she'll suddenly feel it again. The knowledge of it all might burden her instead, and I—" Wednesday clenches her jaw and fist tightly. "I don't want to risk that she'll feel burdened or obligated to me."

The words sting in a way Wednesday's not used to. 

There's no way for her to express to Enid that Wednesday wants you to know every possible way you love her. She wants you to feel it the way you forced her to. 

Despite Wednesday's extensive vocabulary, there are no words to describe the desperation that lingers under her skin, clawing around with desire with how she just wants you to look at her and know. 

Enid takes in her roommate's bitter expression and sighs, relenting. "Fine. I won't tell her exactly what went on between you two—not that I fully know anyhow. I'll just tell her that you were friends. That will at least explain why you're at the hospital."

Wednesday nods stiffly, and Enid lifts her hands towards the other girl's shoulder, hesitating briefly before placing her hand on Wednesday comfortingly. Wednesday allows it briefly before shrugging it away, and the two of them return to your bedside. 

You smile at Enid, eyes trailing over to Wednesday's curiously, and it brings her some comfort.

After all, everything started with your curiosity. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

"So, we're friends?" You ask slowly, taking in Wednesday's stiff sitting posture. There was a distinctive space between the two of you, and you had your legs crossed, slanted away from her.

A couple of weeks have passed, and it was in the midst of winter. Despite Enid regaling the last couple of months to you, Wednesday hasn't had much opportunity to see you. In the same breath, you didn't seem to be seeking out Wednesday's company for answers, either.  

The only reason Wednesday was sitting with you now was because both Yoko and Enid were busy with their after-school activities, and you needed help going to the library to catch up on your studies. 

It became clear quickly that because you didn't remember getting closer to Bianca and Xavier, you were uncomfortable being alone with either of them. 

So, Wednesday was quick to volunteer despite you still remaining uncomfortable at the suggestion. 

"It's fine," Yoko reassured you. "Wednesday excels in all her classes and can definitely help you."

It had felt like a jagged knife slowly ripped across Wednesday's heart that you needed to be reassured to be alone with her. 

It feels like that cut was endlessly bleeding, unable to stitch itself back together while you remained ignorant about her, about yourself, about everything. This heart that Wednesday caged in for so long was finally free and yours…and you didn’t even want to hold it. 

"Yes," Wednesday confirms, despite how the words feel stale on her tongue. 

The library was, for the most part, empty, leaving the two of you with privacy. Wednesday was helping you catch up on assignments and going through lessons until you determined you needed a break. 

Now, you seem to be asking for answers nonchalantly, as if you were only asking because there happened to be an opportunity—not because you were interested in actually knowing. 

"We must've been pretty close if I was willing to tag along with you during these seemingly dangerous investigations, and even willing to take a hit for you," you comment thoughtfully as you consider what you've been told.

"I suppose," Wednesday bites out. 

"Did we do anything else than risk our lives together?" You ask, and Wednesday grips the pen she's holding tighter. 

Sometimes—when you're not talking and focused on something else—it feels like nothing has changed. Or at least, Wednesday can pretend nothing changed. 

But it was moments like these, where you look at her like she's nothing but a stranger and ask these questions, that she becomes acutely aware that nothing has been the same since you woke up.

Wednesday takes a quiet deep breath before she answers. "We studied—like this. You often kept me company while I wrote or played my cello."

"Oh, those are pretty cool hobbies. And I just sat there?"

Wednesday nods. "Sometimes you'd paint Thing's nails."

"Thing?" Your brows furrowed in confusion. 

Wednesday closes her eyes and sighs.

"Sorry," you mumble. "It must be hard for you that I don't remember anything."

You sound genuinely sorry about it, but there's an underlying tone that suggests you feel sorry for Wednesday, not that you're aching to remember yourself. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Then.

"No investigating tonight."

Your voice was firm as you blocked Wednesday's way from the door. The goth girl raised her brow at you but said nothing as she waited for you to continue talking. 

"We have a test and a paper due tomorrow and I know you haven't started."

"I can finish it before you even finish showering," Wednesday drawled. "And I don't need to study. These classes are incredibly rudimentary, and I've learned it all before I even started attending school."

You rolled your eyes, but Wednesday caught you smiling with amusement. "Wonderful, Matilda. That means you can help me study and read over my paper then."

Wednesday narrowed her eyes at the nickname, but you were already walking inside her room, shutting the door behind you. 

"And if I say no?" 

You hummed in thought. "Then I'll hint at Xavier that you want him to ask you to hang out."

"You don't want to live anymore?" Wednesday threatened. 

"If you're going to be like that, I'll have to make it worth my while and tell him you've got feelings for him," you smiled.

"Feelings of aggravation," Wednesday muttered, dropping her backpack with a grunt and walking back to her desk. She looked at you pointedly, and you made your way over and set your things down.

"I imagine even your blunt rejection will make him think you're in denial," you laughed.

"You must want Xavier to die," Wednesday deadpanned. "You can simply ask me without making disturbing threats."

"I thought you liked threats," you smirked. 

"I'm both revolted and delighted by it," Wednesday admits with a sigh through her nose. "At the very least, delighted you know how to make them."

Wednesday pulled Enid's chair from her desk across the room and offered it to you. "Since you've decided to be a nuisance in my investigations tonight, we won't be done until you've gotten every single practice question correctly and I can be assured you'll be getting 100% on both your test and paper."

You grimaced slightly. "Why do I have a feeling I'm going to regret this?"

Wednesday smiled in a truly wicked way. "Let's begin."

Wednesday didn't say anything about how your calf rested against hers the entire night, and you said nothing about how she didn't move away once. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now.

The days are passing by again, drifting and bleeding together. Instead of watching your motionless body and waiting for your recovery, Wednesday watches you walk about, carrying on with your life...without her. 

You seem fine if you have to spend time with Wednesday, but you don't seek her out on your own. It was becoming apparent you were uninterested in her. 

The knowledge of it is something Wednesday can't admit because it feels like abandonment. The idea of it has crescent-shaped dents pressed into her palms from clenching her fist so tightly.

You're content to spend your days laughing with Yoko at the cafeteria, finding comfort in the vampire as the only thing that seemed to remain consistent as your roommate and friend. 

"Don't give up," Enid encourages when she stands next to Wednesday, who is watching you from a distance. "She's just...anxious. She won't admit it, but she's scared. Everything around her has suddenly changed; the only thing that's remained the same is Yoko."

It was annoying. If anything, it should be a testament that Yoko experienced no growth during the hectic months.

"I'm not giving up," Wednesday said, unable to remove her eyes from you.

Wednesday can't give up on you. You've invested far too much time into her, and everything you've done to her is irreversible now. 

You're unaware of it, but Wednesday loves you...that wasn't going to suddenly change. 

And just as you've used time and consistency to lure Wednesday towards you, she would do the same. She just needed to jumpstart your brain into remembering. But even if you didn't, she just needed to redo it over again.

It was still possible. You were still hers, even if you didn’t know it. You had to be because the alternative—

"I'm not giving up," Wednesday reiterates. 

"What are you going to do?" Enid asks unsurely. 

A plan starts to formulate in Wednesday's head. 

"Recreate the memories."

Part 2

[looneyleyle]

waves ~ f. odair

synopsis: a look into the healing mind of a tortured champion

warnings: angsty, hunger-games typical trauma, some hurt and comfort, mentioned forced prostitution

words: 1916

first person pov

waves.

that was what the doctors told me to focus on. well, they told me to focus on something calming. something soothing that i could draw upon from my life before the capitol, before the games, before the trauma.

so, i thought of waves. not the big flashy ones far out on the horizon. i thought of the small ones that ripple just barely onto the sand line at night. the ones that would lightly wash over my bare feet during my nightly strolls with finnick.

finnick. another constant from my life, but not before the trauma. we were raised in the same district, but i didn't know him before the games. he would always be out in the water, spearing fish and weaving baskets, whereas i sat in the shop, drying up ocean plants and grinding up chunks of sea salt. i knew of him during his games, of course, but i never met him until i was reaped myself. it was a couple of years after him, five to be exact. my family was one of the poorer ones of the district. our shop didn't bring in much money, as most families collected and made their own herbs and spices from their time in the water. we mainly sold to the older folks who couldn't go out themselves, or when families needed something in a pinch. that was why i had my name in so many times. it was my last year of being eligible for the games, so i applied for a tesserae for each of my family members. rarely anyone else in the district applied for it, but there were a few other kids who did the same, coming from the same poorer part of the district as i did.

and so, as fate had it, i was reaped for the seventieth hunger games, and came to know the capitol's darling, finnick. he was a charming boy, everyone in panem knew that. by the time of my games, he had sprouted into quite a handsome young man, at the ripe age of 19. i was only a woman, of course i recognized it. in fact, i savored it. i knew i had no skills to win the games, i might as well drink in the sights before the end.

miraculously, i survived my games. survived was... a word you could use, i guess. the neverending trauma, the waking up in cold sweat, the sound of screams ringing in your ears never feels like "surviving", but that's what it could technically be called.

this is the part where i tell you that finnick was there to comfort and guide me through these times, except it's not. in fact, something in my games set him off so badly that he hid himself from me. during my victory tour, he locked himself up in his room, only showing his face during the speeches. instead, mags comforted me, being the wonderful woman she is. she waved off finnick's behavior with a sad glint in her kind eyes whenever i brought it up.

instead, it was me who comforted him. i was sitting in my room in the capitol, waiting for the party the following day at snow's mansion, when i heard a loud thunk outside of my door. when i opened it, i saw finnick, leaned up against the wall, in a daze. i immediately ushered him in, his body moving lethargically through the apartment. he all but fell onto the couch, eyes dragging along the surroundings until they finally honed in on me. when he locked eyes with me, his expression faltered, and his eyes began to water. i didn't know what was going on, the ever so cocky and charismatic man was in my victory tour apartment, almost sobbing.

"i won't let them take you, i won't let them." was all he was able to say. he muttered it over and over again, i started to seriously worry about my safety. who was 'they', and what did they want with me?

he later explained the predicament, how the capitol would take "desirable" victors and sell them to the highest bidder for the night. he told me about his 'friend' who had gone through it, but even as the word 'friend' left his lips, he knew that i saw right through him.

when my victory tour officially ended, i returned to district four with a new house and all the riches in panem. i offered my parents and sister to live with me, but they insisted on staying in the shop. they wouldn't take the money i got from the games either, but i managed to pay off a fair few of their bills before they could realize it each month.

so, i was the sole occupant of an overly extravagant house, no need to work, no need to fish, no need to lift a finger. my job was to sit there on the couch and rot away.

after one of his particularly long stays at the capitol, finnick and i found ourselves in a very similar situation to before: him, leaning on my door, broken, looking for some form of real human connection. i, of course, let him in, and just sat there and talked with him. he began to get antsy, pacing my living room. it was still fairly warm outside, so i decided to take him on a nice, calming, late-night walk on the beach. we let the little waves nip at our feet as we talked about small things, nothing too serious. it felt like everything in our lives were entirely too serious, and a break was much appreciated.

this became our routine. every time finnick got back from the capitol, he would show up on my doorstep, and we would take a long walk on the beach. finnick once told me that it was the only way he could get through those stays there, the thought that he would soon be walking among the waves with me.

waves.

when finnick got reaped for the quarter quell, it felt like the air was knocked out of me. it was finnick and mags, and while i stepped forward to volunteer, i was held back by one of the other victors. finnick had talked to me about it a few nights before, lying in bed with me. he made me promise that if one of us was reaped, the other wouldn't volunteer. it would do us no use if we were both in there. there was no chance of the capitol allowing two victors to make it out of the games alive again, not after the chaos that followed katniss and peeta's victory.

as soon as finnick was transported off to the capitol, i locked myself in my house. my bedsheets still smelled like him, and i bunched them up in my hands and cried into them.

i battled with myself, wondering if i should even watch the games. on one hand, i'd know for a fact if he was alive. on the other, i don't think i could bear the sights of him being maimed, mauled, or mutilated. ultimately, to keep my peace of mind, i decided against watching the games. one of the other victors watching was to inform me if he died, and nothing else. i instead spent my days weaving, something finnick taught me over the years. it was his way of focusing his mind, calming the thoughts. when i weaved, it was like he was there right behind me, arms wrapped around my torso as he whispered into my hair the directions.

i didn't know how many days into the games it was, but one day, at some late hour of the night, i heard knocking at my door. my stomach dropped. i could only assume the worst, that someone was here to tell me that finnick had died. i rushed down the stairs and swung open the door, only to be met by a mob of peacekeepers who violently dragged me out of the house and knocked me unconcious.

i don't remember much of what happened to me whilst in the capitol, and the doctors say that's good. they don't want me dwelling on whatever torture they might have put me through. but it freaked me out. according to the doctors, i was there for months. months of my life were just casually blank in my memory, and that freaked me the fuck out. this would be the point where i would start hyperventilating, and the doctors would tell me to focus on the waves.

waves.

the small waves that would hit the sand back at home. the waves of golden hair resting on my chest when i would wake up in my house in victory village. the now bronzer waves that i would see during my daily visitor hours. the lack of sunshine in thirteen really paled out finnick's appearance, though i've been told it was worse when he knew i was still in the capitol. they knew i was precious to him, they knew taking me would be the ultimate revenge towards him. as to how they knew about me and finnick, i had no clue. we weren't officially anything, though i suppose it was a bit incriminating when he moved over half of his belongings to my house a year or so after my games. after all, snow had eyes everywhere.

after a month or so in the medward of district 13, i was finally cleared to roam around on my own, provided that i came in for weekly check-ins. as soon as the words left the doctor's lips, finnick was at the door to my room, arm poised to help steady myself as we walked around. the doctors suggested that we head down to the cafeteria to get me socialized, but finnick seemed to have other plans. i didn't know my way around thirteen, but i knew that a latch in the ceiling certainly could not be the way into the cafe. instead, it took us outside. it was night out, and much colder than the nights in four ever were. finnick simply looked back at me, hand extended towards me with a question lingering in his sea green eyes. i took his hand with no hesitation, letting him pull me up and into the grass. the fresh air filled my lungs, after months of being locked up in stuffy rooms, both in the capitol and in thirteen. we walked in silence, me taking everything in, finnick's hand never leaving mine. eventually, i felt the texture of the ground beneath me change. looking down, i watched as my feet were swallowed by sand. my eyes quickly surveyed the area around us, and quickly spotted a calm pond fed by a small stream. the stream caused the slightest of ripples in the water, which just barely made it to the sand.

"it isn't anything like four, but it's the closest we have here. i would come out here almost every night while you were in the capitol, right there, hoping that i would get to take you here sometime, or better yet, to take you back to four." he told me. i looked up at him, my body aflame from his words. my heart was heavy, knowing how much he suffered while i was there, but knowing that we were here, right now, helped wash away the pain, like the waves hitting the sand.

[jensettermandu]

-𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣, 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡𝙨 𝙜𝙤 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚-

-𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲-

1.8

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𝘨!𝘱 𝘫𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

content warning; MDNI, morally grey characters, toxic relation/situationships, domestic abuse, violence, substance use/abuse, mentions of weight/toxic beauty standards, dubcon, a lot of smut (spitting, spanking, bondage, choking, rough sex, etc. appears), age gap (legal), mentions of sensitive topics, not made for glorification of toxic relationships.

wc; 9.9k+

For a moment, Y/n didn't want to wake up. She wanted to end her night once and for all, but the reality had dawned upon her and she couldn't ignore what had happened anymore. There were lines she was fine with being crossed, but certain weren't worth it anymore no matter how good Jennie made her feel or how she felt for the woman. It would be too self-degrading because it had already been all this time.

It hurt to think about it, but every other moment with Jennie hurt twice as much and it no longer was worth tearing herself into small pieces just to be with the woman. Had it ever been worth it? Y/n couldn’t lie to herself and say no because she could see past the facade of the horrible person that Jennie was, but it tore at her to know that she wouldn’t be the one to stay and see the facade crack and let Jennie come out. 

Y/n slowly sat up in the bed, she had never been to Jennie's place before and she wasn't going to come back. There was no home to go to, she was already aching and couldn’t ache more just to force something without a base to be her home when it wasn’t stable enough to be one. 

She looked down at the woman who hadn't changed and was lying in her lap, hugging her waist. The white tee was stained with blood that was the vixen's. She could feel the way her lower lip pulsated and she gently ran her fingers over it. It made her stomach drop because she never wanted Jennie to take it so far and leave her with so many choices, but only one right one. 

It twisted and twisted until there was nothing more left to twist and Y/n was left to feel sick at the emotions that had been twisted and poured over her body. It made her shaky, the sadness, the anger, the regret, the longing already happening, the despair of knowing that she wasn’t enough to break those walls and see the other part of Jennie that seemed dead by now. 

She grabbed hold of Jennie's arms and gently unwrapped them from around her, the black tee and sweat shorts loose on her as she had been changed. Jennie didn't want to let go as she instantly wrapped her arms around Y/n again the second the contact disappeared. Heat ran across the older woman's body at the anxiety that shot through her and woke her up in an instant.

She had never experienced such fear, such fear of losing the one thing she couldn’t lose because she had never had something she couldn’t lose. Jennie could have it all because she had the money, but she knew that she would never be able to get another Y/n. No one would ever replace Y/n. 

She wanted to take responsibility for what she did–even if she mixed it all up in her head.

"No, no, where are you going?" Jennie tried to grasp at Y/n, her voice quivering awake as she forced her eyes open. The sleep she had gotten didn't help her at all. Her brain felt like mush, her body was trembling from exhaustion, it was trembling from fear and overwhelming emotions she hadn’t felt in years. 

 "You can't leave me, Y/n." She added and got on her knees. Jennie's eyes which were laced with regret, guilt, and despair looked into Y/n's wide eyes as the girl looked conflicted, but at the same time sure of what had to be done. It made her chest heave as she had never needed to beg someone to stay, if anything she had always made them leave and she did once again, but not intentionally. She couldn’t have her leave. 

Y/n was Jennie’s lifeline, she was the only thing keeping her grounded and alive, and she couldn’t lose that. Jennie had missed feeling things despite doing her best to be numb, but Y/n was different. The vixen made her want to feel everything because it felt good no matter how much it hurt after. This was different, she wanted to feel everything but the despair of not being able to keep someone who was leaving. 

"Please." It was a plea and she tried to reach out for Y/n, to brush her hair away like she always did, to cup her face and kiss her until it would all go away and be fine. To reel her back in like she always did and make her stay by coaxing her and brushing off all her mistakes by showering her with love. Jennie was ready to go out of her way this time, to do more and better than all the other times, to even keep her promises if it meant that Y/n stayed. 

All those gestures that always made Y/n melt into her only made her blanch away from her hold before she could even touch her skin.

"You slapped me, you busted my lip–You put your hands on me, Jennie. I'm not staying."

The words were shattering Jennie's world. The words were shattering of what was left of it, it was crushing her spirit and her barely beating heart. The words brewed hatred within Jennie, the one that made her fight for numbness because she couldn’t live with the hatred she held for herself. 

It broke Jennie, she felt hopeless, she felt like she had fallen down a hole that she would never get out of and she would beat herself up in that hole until her last breath because she served no other purpose in a dark hole. It made her want to scream and cry, it made her want to punch until her knuckles were bleeding and fractured. It hurt, but it wouldn’t hurt as much as watching her last resort walking out, her only lifebuoy, the only ladder that could have taken her out of that hole. There would no longer be any tiny light shining down and she would be drowning in darkness that would fill the hole to the brim. 

She sharply inhaled as Y/n looked at her with glossed-over eyes that held pity. She felt bad for Jennie because she didn't want to leave her, but she couldn't stay this time. It hurt even more to see Jennie tear up. She had hoped for things she never should have hoped for, but Jennie had been worth it. Those small cracks had made it worth it, the times she had seen the good. It burned her lungs with each breath as she thought that what she could have helped didn’t want her help at all, but only wanted to drag Y/n down with her.

"I– I know, but Y/n please listen to me. I didn't mean for it to happen."

The words that left Jennie only made it easier for Y/n to remove the duvet from her. The excuse wouldn't suffice and neither would an apology, but an apology would at least make it somewhat better. It wouldn't be an excuse to hurt her. This time Y/n couldn’t listen to Jennie’s excuses because nothing was a good enough excuse for this. 

"How the fuck do you slap someone on accident." Y/n hissed in disbelief and got out of bed. The sun had found its way to the high ceiling windows of the bedroom, lighting up the white and modern-styled room as the woman never turned on the blinds. It shone light, but it did nothing to warm up the cold in the room as it was all freezing for Y/n. All that she had felt was getting cold as she couldn’t look at Jennie the same after she had hurt her this way and was trying to excuse it now. 

"I got angry and I have a hard time controlling it!" Jennie exclaimed in despair as she got off the bed and quickly made it over to block the girl's way. She grabbed hold of her arms so she wouldn't walk, but Y/n slithered out of her hold and stepped back. Jennie's face fell into more despair at the way the girl wasn't allowing her to touch her. The way she walked away was as if she knew Jennie for her facade and had lost hope for the true her. 

She knew Jennie too well.

She knew her lies.

She let them all pass as Jennie put them away for her.

"So you punch people."

"Please, Y/n, I am trying to work on it." She called out after the girl who made it past her after pushing her aside. Jennie couldn't reside in anger as she felt disgusted by herself after she had fully sobered up. Her body was giving out on her, she wasn't handling it at all. For the first time, something was fully out of her control as only Y/n could decide if she would forgive or stay or if she would leave. Jennie knew that she couldn’t force her no matter how much she would try and even if she forced her it would never be the same. She wanted Y/n to stay by choice as that would be worth more than her fortune. 

It was a lie though; Jennie had never done anything to work on it. She's only enhanced it by doing things that made it worse by drinking and consuming illicit substances. It wasn’t like she did it by choice, she wished that she had the choice not to, but Jennie never had a good enough reason until now to try and change it. 

Jennie fumbled for the right words, her brain tired and trying to get something together as she quickly walked after Y/n who tried to get her stuff. She picked up her jacket and the purse, not caring about the rest, but about leaving Jennie. She didn't want the older woman to make a bigger fool of herself. Y/n wanted to spare Jennie that. She still held sympathy for her. The vixen also knew that she would never be able to handle seeing Jennie break down in front of her for the first time the same way she had done multiple times. 

Maybe it was selfish because despite all the bad Jennie had always been there for her even at her worst. It didn’t matter if she had been the cause of some of those moments, she still made sure to be there for her. Y/n couldn’t do that. This time she would be the selfish one. 

"I grew up with an abusive father and they got divorced, but I was still staying with him now and then. He– He had been violent with me and my mum until I finally managed to get away by making my own money. I truly do not want to be him. I promise you. It just stuck and I've always hated this part of me."

Jennie managed to scramble for another story that wasn't hers to tell as none of it was true. Neither of her divorced parents was abusive, but the opposite as her mother had always loved her while she had always been an out-of-control fire–she didn’t know her father enough to judge the man aside from the fact that he had never tried to be present in her life. It wasn’t like she cared for the most part because she had never tried to mend it either. 

Y/n reached down for the jacket and got pulled up by Jennie who took hold of her shoulder to make her look at her. Every little thing she did was laced with desperation and she couldn’t care about how pathetic it made her look. Jennie was grieving the loss of someone who was standing right in front of her. She didn't want Y/n to go. She knew the girl wouldn't come back.

Y/n hated goodbyes.

She finally had a reason to leave it all behind though.

At least Jennie wasn't the one leaving her which had been her biggest fear. 

"Yet you're just like him, Jennie and you are putting women through the same thing your father put your mother through and live with that fact. You are 29 and you still haven't figured it out." Y/n spat out in repudiation because she couldn't understand what Jennie tried to come to by saying these things. They weren't making her stay, they only made her want to leave much quicker as she got out of the grip. 

"I'm not staying around to earn more bruises because you can't control yourself." Y/n did a once over at Jennie as her tone withered and she frowned at the woman she had to leave behind. It was much harder than what she was making it look like. Each step felt like walking on glass and she wanted to jump into Jennie’s arms and listen to the billionaire tell her how everything would be good and all the hurt would pass. Y/n couldn’t do it though and continued to push through the glass-filled path. 

"Listen to what I’m telling you!"

She called for the girl who headed for the door. The lump grew with each step that the vixen took and she watched her being closer and closer to leaving her. Jennie didn't feel heard, it felt like Y/n was fully dismissing her. Dismissing her excuses and lies that she spews out just for the girl and no one else. Jennie was going out of her way and it was doing nothing this time. 

There was so much that she wanted to tell Y/n, to spill everything to her, to scream until her throat was bleeding just to get rid of all her burdens, to just at last for once cry in someone else’s arms. It was all for nothing because she was too scared of it. Jennie was too scared of opening up and telling Y/n the truth about all her self-hatred, all her burdens, all her pain and why she was the way she was. 

"I don't control it. I don't control it. So why should I be punished for it? Understand me!" Jennie's anguish was clear in her words that she pushed past the ice-cold lump in her throat that wasn't giving her any mercy. She couldn’t push out at least half of the truth and she was losing someone because of it.

"And why should I be the one suffering because you can't control yourself!?"

She opened the bedroom door, seeing the stairs that led down to the first floor. There was so little yet so much left and she would have Jennie out of her life. It felt impossible though as she felt the tug in her heart the closer she got, the one that was tied to Jennie who kept pulling and trying to reel her back in. 

"Y/n, please no, just wait," if only the girl could wait for a bit more, Jennie would be able to come up with better lies. She would be able to paint her a beautiful world with her lies, she just needed a moment. The lies that would make her stay. Jennie couldn’t figure out what the truth would make her do, but no matter what it felt like Y/n had made up her mind. 

She just needed Y/n to wait.

Her tears fell as her nose prickled, forlorn washing over her as she hurried after Y/n who was walking away. Why couldn't she just wait? It pained Jennie, the tears stung more than any other tears she had shed in a while. They hurt more than the thoughts of tomorrow, the thoughts of her empty future that she had now sealed if Y/n left. Her breathing got heavier at the thought of what her life was, what she was, and what she would be until her last breath. She wanted to die at the doom she felt. 

She had taken Y/n  for granted. The only person who stayed no matter how many times Jennie messed up was now leaving because Jennie thought there was no limit so she took everything only to be left with nothing. She had taken everything after not getting anything for so long, none of these feelings and it all backfired. Her greediness for care and love kicked her to the curb as she had abused it all because no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t lose her old ways. 

Jennie only had one last resort. One last try to make the girl stay as she spilled out some of the truth for the first time today.

"I love you and I truly didn't mean to hurt you. I feel terrible please believe me–" Jennie shrilled, a sob falling from her lips and she knew she had no right to cry or say that she loved Y/n after what she had done to her, after all the things she had put her through. Breaking Y/n into pieces hadn’t made her stay after she broke them beyond repair. She had lost whatever of Y/n’s trust she ever had. Although, Jennie couldn’t deny this truth for much longer. It wasn’t going away even when she was numb. "I love and care about you." She cried for the girl.

It had all been lies before, but she knew that this time it was the truth, she loved Y/n.

Jennie stopped at the girl who turned to her. Their eyes watering, spilling emotions, trying to get rid of the pain but it felt impossible to not hurt in a moment like this one. 

"You love me? You dare to say that you fucking love me after hurting me? If you fucking loved me you wouldn't have raised your hand at me to begin with. You would've fucking controlled yourself and wouldn't have slapped me and busted my lip."

The woman could only listen to the way Y/n took out her anger at her. The anger and disbelief at the words she had heard from Jennie, the words that made it harder to leave. Harder to leave without saying something first. The only thing they caused Y/n was for the sadness, the pity, the regret and everything else to disappear. The only thing she could feel for Jennie now was immense anger for saying something that made everything much more difficult. 

Jennie couldn't feel any anger or like she was being disrespected when the girl's palms collided with her chest as Y/n shoved at her. It made Jennie take small steps with each impact as she couldn't even look Y/n in the eyes at the shame she felt and stared at the hands that kept colliding with her. They didn't hurt her, Y/n had no real strength, and she couldn't find the strength in herself to hurt Jennie. 

It made Jennie only realise more how much of a precious soul she had hurt and ruined. They would all have tried to hurt Jennie for this, they would throw things at her, scream at her and the bruises would form and Jennie would cause them even bigger bruises. Although it never really hurt. Yet Y/n’s weak punches didn’t hurt, but the words drilled into her skin, ripping her flesh and causing scars to drape over her skin.

She wished Y/n had never met her so neither of them would have to go through this, especially Y/n. Jennie felt guilty. 

"You know what? Do what you want. Degrade me, scream and yell at me, break shit around me or punch a wall, treat me like shit in every way possible, but you fucking hurt me physically, that's a fucking line I am not willing to stay at after it's been crossed even if you love me."

The words would always linger longer than the impact of her shoves. The words would always hurt more than any bruises. Bruises disappeared, words were life long and Jennie would forever remember that Y/n despised her and everything else she would spit at her. All the things that Jennie deserved. It was Y/n’s time to break her, but she wouldn’t put her back together, she would leave her behind the way she deserved to be left broken and alone. 

"You don't fucking love me. You just love control and when you don't have it, you fucking ruin everything around you even the people!"

Y/n couldn't stop herself from crying as they lost something they never had to begin with. She hated Jennie for everything she had done, the pain felt unbearable at the moment as she clenched her jaw to stop her sobs. 

"I could never be with someone like you." She shoved the woman one last time who broke down fully. That was the final push for Jennie, to hear that she never would have had a chance with Y/n. 

The homes they had found in each other had been destroyed before they even stepped inside.

Y/n walked down the stairs, ignoring the sounds of things breaking as there was nothing else to stay behind for. Whatever Jennie did now wouldn't matter to her as she slipped on a pair of slippers that lay by the door while taking out her phone. Y/n stepped out into the L.A. sun, the wound on her lip stinging from the heat that hit it and she called her only sanctuary while crying.

"Hello?"

"I need you to pick me up, please, I will send you the address."

"Of course, I'm driving right now."

She hung up as she walked along the long driveway of the mansion while sending her location. She received a confirmation that it would be five minutes as they were nearby.

Y/n tried to calm down, to not sob or cry harder as she wasn't supposed to cry over someone like Jennie. Jennie wasn't worth her tears, yet Jennie was able to make her heart turn into withering flowers that turned black with its petals crumbling into nothing more than dust. The girl was unsure if she regretted meeting Jennie at all or if she was happy that she had met the woman. Every thought was about Jennie when she stopped right by the tall black gates and leaned against the pedestrian gate as she could hear people right outside.

She took deep breaths, already working on forgetting the woman who made her life better and simultaneously ruined it. She tried to forget all those highs and the lows that Jennie held her through even if she caused them. It made Y/n bite down on the side of her hand to stop the sobs that wanted to leave her mouth. It hurt that Jennie had done so much good, but also so much bad, that she was possibly a good person under all the hurt she carried and caused. 

Everything seemed to be a reminder of her.

Although Y/n couldn't stay despite loving the pain and wanting to drown in all the good she brought her. She had learned to love the pain and thought she would never want to live without it, but this was too much even for her. 

She looked at her phone which went off after a while to see that the car was waiting.

The gate buzzed as she pressed the button that was on the inside and she pushed down the handle and opened the door. Whatever was going on had nothing to do with Y/n who tried to cover her face after realising that photos were being taken–lost in a daze of emotions–as she walked past the paparazzi. She picked up her pace on the last few feet to the car and quickly opened the door before getting inside, still holding the leather jacket up until the car started to move.

"Jennie?"

"Yes." It was a void whisper.

"I thought it was once and you blocked her after."

She shook her head while wiping at her tears.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

And so Y/n went on, telling Lisa everything that had been happening behind everyone's backs for the past five months. At last, letting all her burdens show as she unpacked the heavy bag she had been dragging along with her. She couldn’t carry it all by herself anymore. 

[Four months ago]

Y/n couldn't bring herself to face Asher the day after.

The comedown and hungover were only making it worse.

She found herself in Lisa's apartment, bringing all her guilt, shame, and pain with her as she was crying in her best friend's arms. The tears didn't want to stop and she couldn't stop thinking about her actions.

The way it came so easily, how she cheated without a second thought and it was killing her that she had hurt someone who she loved so much. She loved him so much and couldn't comprehend what still made it possible to cheat without any second thoughts during the moment.

"What happened?" Lisa asked as the girl had come in the morning still in her pyjamas while looking like she had just lost someone dear to her. It was exactly what it felt like. Her mistake felt like she had lost someone dear to her. She had lost a part of herself when she chose to be selfish and relish in pleasure from lust instead of faithfulness from love.

"I– I cheated on Ash." She barely managed to say through her sobs and the words brought her through even more spreading pain. It was like being dragged through a road filled with broken glass and needles.

"When? Y/n, please calm down." She knew that it was wrong, but it was her best friend and she'd do anything for the girl. She would even keep her biggest and dirtiest secrets even if she was friends with her boyfriend too. Lisa could never hurt the girl, so she settled on hurting the man because she had known Y/n all her life.

"Last night–" She clutched onto Lisa's shirt, hating herself for crying when she had no right to cry for what she did. The vixen knew that she had sinned and deserved no solace for these mistakes, the acts of letting herself get swallowed by the sin of lust. "I was drunk and high on ecstasy and Jennie was there and...it happened and then it was over and I knew what I had done."

Lisa couldn't say anything, it wasn't her relationship, but Y/n's. She instead provided her with a place to cry in as she held Y/n and let her confess her sins while she listened, but she couldn't give her the forgiveness that she wanted. Only Asher could give her that.

"Are you going to tell him?" Y/n asked at last as she pulled away. Lisa held onto her shoulder, looking into the red and tear-filled siren eyes of her friend. "Only if you want me to, Y/n." She would only do what Y/n needed her help with. 

"Keep it a secret." She mumbled and looked down at the shame she felt of not having the guts to tell the truth while having the guts to cheat. She didn't have the guts to earn up to her mistakes all while being able to do them.

"Any day. I'm your best friend, always."

[Present]

"Don't touch me," Jennie finally snapped as she couldn't do it, her body was trembling as the tears came right back to her eyes.

She hadn't left the gated mansion in a week and hadn't let anyone in unless she had called for them. The place hadn't been cleaned and the things she had thrashed to take out her regrets, anger, and frustrations were still in the way of walking.

Even if she wanted to leave, she couldn't bring herself to do it because of how her body was faltering with every step she took and how she was breaking with each thought of the girl. Paparazzi were swarming outside the gates–security hired at the gates–after the woman she had seen in Las Vegas had come forth with allegations of aggravated assault.

Jennie was drowning in the misery that she had caused herself.

Only time could tell who more would come forth now that one person had.

Her team was working full-time while Jennie was fighting herself over Y/n.

She always got out of these things, but now her ego had died when the girl had left her and it no longer mattered how much or little power she had. That power no longer felt good, it no longer mattered how much she had because it suddenly felt like nothing without Y/n right there. 

She shoved the woman on her knees in front of her away by her head when she didn't stop undoing her jeans. The blonde woman fell back at the force with a wince.

"What're you doing?"

Y/n hadn't been the reason why anything ended.

She knew that it was all her fault from the start, from the second they met. 

Her mind and system were too big of a mess to think about sex when all she could think of was Y/n and the pain she caused the girl and the pain she was feeling herself. The pain she couldn't numb no matter how much she had drunk, smoked, or inhaled, if not swallowed. It all only drained her more and she spent her evenings throwing up the toxins that were killing her. 

Maybe that was the point, to just go until she would drop dead because everything else was coming back after Y/n left and made Jennie truly realise where she was in her life. The hellhole she had fixed herself with her own money.

Jennie had never gotten her heart broken.

She couldn't tell if this was it or not, but it felt like the end of the world and as if she would die.

Or maybe she was dying because of the amount of substances in her body.

Her vision was impaired and she started to sob.

"I told you to leave me alone!" She screamed at the woman who hadn't left her alone yet. It seemed to reach her now as she took her stuff and only left the sound of the door to the bedroom slamming closed

She tried to drown it in her favourite things to forget Y/n; sex, drugs, and alcohol. It only made it worse and reminded her of Y/n. It turned out that her favourite thing was Y/n and that doing those things with the girl was what made them so good now. The vixen had ruined what she loved doing before by having her fall for her.

She whined through gritted teeth and ran her palms harshly down her face to try and get rid of these feelings. It wasn't working, nothing was and Y/n didn't seem to be coming back even if Jennie had hope. She got up on her feet, tumbling over them as she took her phone and regained balance once she stumbled onto her knees, landing on the white rug. Jennie shed more tears, unsure of what she had done to herself. Unsure of what Y/n had done to her.

Why was she ruining herself because of someone else? Because the lonely star had left her. It had never happened before, but now it did and she couldn't understand how a girl had her on her knees in her bedroom, sobbing into a rug. Jennie punched at it as her forehead pressed into the rug. The substances were getting the best of her emotions as she had no clue how to cope with all these things she'd never allowed to happen before.

Her hand went numb and her lungs burned from the screaming and crying, it made her slump down fully. She rolled over to her back, the tears running down the corners of her eyes and she looked at her phone. There wasn't a single message from the girl in a whole week and she hadn't gotten a single reply. There was no pride that was in the way, Jennie had thrown her dignity out of the window and had been begging the girl through messages, and multiple declined calls until she got blocked five days ago.

With her lip jutted out she opened her socials and went on an unofficial account because she had been blocked everywhere, not just her number.

Y/n was finishing a chapter, closing one that Jennie didn't want to close as she choked on her sobs, coughing at the spit that she choked on with each sharp inhale from the shuddering of her breaths. Despite the screen blurring every second she managed to find the girl who was gaining followers every day. Jennie knew because she was checking every day. After she left her followers went from 2k to 4k in a week. She had no clue why, but she assumed it was because Y/n got caught by paparazzi when she left and the allegations were revealed just a few hours before she left through that gate without looking back at Jennie. 

She sniffled and opened the girl's stories while using her forearm to wipe at her eyes. The blur disappeared for a few seconds and she watched the girl who was living as if it never happened. It wasn't fair. It hurt Jennie even more and her gravest mistake was falling for the girl. The girl didn't have to move on because she never stopped at Jennie's pit stop. She had no clue how Y/n felt for her, she couldn't figure it out, but she knew what the vixen had told her.

She doesn't love him.

She's waiting for him to leave first.

She knows she has to leave him, but can't because she's scared.

Her heart maybe didn't belong to Jennie, but it didn't belong to him either.

Maybe she would have stayed even if she didn't love Jennie if it hadn't been for the guy.

Jennie sobbed as her stomach was twisting in longing for something she wanted to have.

Y/n had worked on her lies, she was living with them after coming up with the excuse that she was leaving the woman's house early in the morning last week because she and Lisa were friends. She and Lisa had crashed there, her friend covering every lie she told. She had stumbled into a wall when they were out and busted her lip while foundation covered the fingertips on her neck. 

He believed everything she told him. He always did and would never doubt her.

The lies were eating at her and she wasn't sure what to do as she couldn't unpack it all. Instead, the box stood filled and out of sight for her boyfriend.

She didn't love him anymore, but she couldn't just get up and leave without telling him the truth, she neither could bring herself to tell Asher the truth. So she was stuck with him because she couldn't confess her sins to the only person who could forgive them or at least deserved to hear them even if he wouldn't forgive her.

Each day was spent thinking about Jennie no matter what she was doing or with who she was.

The allegations didn't make the ache any lighter aside from knowing that she got out on time. However, she felt horrible for Jennie, no matter how much she had hurt her and even laid her hands on her. She couldn't get those words out of her head, the images out of her head, the way Jennie broke down and was now going through this with the allegations. The woman had only brought it on herself, but Y/n felt pity for her either way because she had cared about Jennie. 

They were portraying her as a monster with shots being fired from each side despite not knowing whether or not these allegations were true. Y/n knew her for more than what they made her to be. She knew Jennie for the good person that she was who made her feel loved and things she hadn't felt the same way with anyone else, but she also knew her for the horrible person that she was and made her feel things no one else had before. 

The Jennie who broke her and fixed her because she loved and cared for Y/n.

It didn't matter as she stayed deluded and ignored those bad things because Jennie was still somehow perfect in her eyes. She didn't choose a side between the alleged and the victim though because no one except those two knew the truth. Even if Jennie had hurt her, she hoped that it wasn't true despite deep down possibly knowing what happened. Y/n didn’t want Jennie to prove her more right than she already had. 

She shouldn't care, but she did because she still wished good for the woman whom she couldn't let go of or go back to. The woman who ruined her and made her dependent on her. The woman was more addicting than the drugs. She was the drug that put Y/n through the worst withdrawals.

How did she move on from someone she never had but lost?

Jennie's world was crashing, and Y/n's wasn't too far behind as the last standing pieces were burning.

It flashed before her eyes when Jennie threw the bag of coke in front of her when the phone got tossed onto the bed in front of her. Y/n's lips parted in confusion as Asher opened the door to the small wardrobe and she reached for the phone. It was yet another reminder of Jennie when she picked up the phone that was face down. 

The chat between her boyfriend and the person only contained one thing and she didn't have to open the video to know what it was. Jennie only had that one video she never deleted and Y/n dropped the phone. She didn't cry at first, instead, she leaned back against the headboard and rubbed at her face–avoiding her healing lip.

She didn't say anything because she didn't deserve to speak up. Instead, she waited for Asher to cuss her out, yell at her, or somehow just react to what she had done. She was waiting for him to let it all out on her.

With a lump in her throat and undeserved tears welling in her eyes, she looked at the man taking out his clothes from the closet, throwing them onto the bed, her clothes falling onto the floor.

Asher cleared his throat. Y/n knew he wouldn't take any anger out on her, that he wouldn't cuss her out and scream at her. It made Y/n hate the man because he didn't do any of the things she deserved or wanted him to do for how she had hurt him.

He looked over at the girl whom he was heartbroken by, the one he still loved, but couldn't look at without seeing someone else. The vixen who he no longer recognized as Y/n but the star that was in the video, getting fucked in the throat on a bathroom floor wasted and high. There hadn't been a single trace of shame in the video, no guilt, no care. It was filled with euphoria, a bliss he had never seen her in until now, he hadn’t been able to cause her such euphoria. He couldn't tell what hurt more.

That this wasn't the woman he used to be connected to.

That there was no guilt, shame, regret, or care in the video.

Or that she had cheated on her.

Or maybe it was that she looked the happiest with someone else.

She wiped her tears before they could fall.

Jennie just kept ruining her life with every step she tried to take away from her–although she knew this was all her fault because she cheated. She wasn't letting Y/n go. The young girl was aware that he would have to get to know the truth at some point or that it would come out some way, but Jennie never had any right to meddle in her relationship. She never had the right to be the one to break the news to Asher, but she did because she was just as selfish as Y/n was.

"Do you even slightly regret it, Y/n?" His voice cracked and it swallowed the girl who looked down at her hands unable to face reality. How was she supposed to look him in the eye?

At some point, she stopped regretting things that felt good.

"I did at first, but it stopped after a while."

He scoffed to himself at how blind he had been by holding onto the girl she was before this, by staying blind and oblivious about how Y/n had changed despite it being obvious. Because he saw her change but pretended. He ignored all the signs and never wanted the truth. He would have been fine not knowing. Asher moved over to the bed and sat down at the edge beside the pile of his clothes as he stared at the floor. It was cracking, the floor beneath him felt like thin ice that cracked away with his trust.

"A while is how long exactly, Y/n?"

"Almost five months."

"It started when and with whom?"

"It's only been Jennie. I went to the party with her and it happened there for the first time."

He couldn't determine whether it was worse that it was just one person for almost five months instead of different people. It only meant that there was a reason for why she stuck to one person. Why did she keep running back to that one person? If she had run there for long enough everything had possibly shifted. 

He looked back at the girl whose teary eyes were staring into his. Was she even in love with him still? Was she in love with the woman she had been seeing for the past five months? Was that why she kept running to no one else but Jennie? Hadn't he been enough and Jennie had been there to fill in and be enough for Y/n?

He didn't want to acknowledge the new person who he sat with though. He didn't want to acknowledge the rest of the problems, the drugs, alcohol and parties he had been ignoring while watching the girl ruin herself. He was stuck on the old Y/n and always would be. 

"Do you love her?"

Asher's question made it feel like all oxygen disappeared in the world, being thrown into the universe and ultimately getting killed because she couldn't survive outside the layers of the earth. Jennie had become her world in five months and she had forgotten about Asher and her old self.

"It's complicated."

He looked away at that because those words hurt more than the video itself.

Y/n watched as he buried his face in his palms, it was someone who had been important to her, someone she had cared about–someone who she used to love. It broke her to know that she had managed to hurt someone this much. With everything telling her not to do it, she still crawled over the bed and to the guy. The hesitance made it hard to reach out to the guy who was trying to collect his tears.

She had been as horrible as Jennie all this time while trying to justify all her actions in her head. 

"I'm sorry Ash I shouldn't have let it go on for as long as it did," those words felt so stupid when they left her mouth. She now understood Jennie better and why she spat out so many lies and words that didn't matter anymore when she was leaving. No one liked being left alone. She should have lied and it would have made him feel better. 

Her touch made him shiver as it was still familiar and home. It was just the same skin, but not the same person on the inside. He shrugged her hand off of him because Y/n wasn't his home. She destroyed their home by inviting someone else into it, and by letting someone else intrude multiple times.

"No, you shouldn't have let it happen to begin with but you did–" His tone grew slightly harsher through the pained tears and Y/n sat back as her tears fell to see him this hurt. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting and she could only watch a part of her life get up from the bed they used to share. "Your sorry won't change what has happened Y/n because you don't even seem sorry." She watched how the life they had planned together was leaving her and her biggest fears didn't matter to him anymore. Y/n had to face them alone for what she had done and she knew that it was all her fault.

Those plans of a future together were gone as the guy left her alone, crying in the bedroom.

Y/n still hadn't come back;

Jennie was still dying in her home because of how everything hurt, not knowing what to do about it. She disregarded the mess she was, the way her nose had been bleeding with every inhale of substance. She disregarded the fact that she had barely slept for the past days, how her eyes were red and the circles dark. She disregarded the fain quivering within her bones at how weak she felt. 

Jennie found clothes she hadn't trashed or thrown out of her closet and put on a pair of black sweats and a hoodie, fumbling with the sunglasses that she tried to put on using one hand while getting her car keys and phone with the other–her phone was dead when she picked it up. Slipping on a pair of sneakers that lay tossed on the rug after she walked out of the closet.

If Y/n wouldn't come back to her, she would make it to her on her own.

Two weeks.

She had been drinking herself wasted for two weeks and her throat was in pain from how her body was rejecting most of the alcohol she tried to down. It wasn't helping her numb the fact that she had lost a person who meant something to her. Jennie couldn't let it go, she had never gone so far for anyone because no one seemed worth it.

The sunglasses blocked the sun when she opened the door, the air was soothing against her sore body that was still forcing the toxins out of her through every pore. It still made her head pound and her vision filled with white spots at the strong light, the sunglasses doing the bare minimum. Her feet led her to the black Bentley with tinted windows to avoid being seen in this state as she didn't want to look in the mirror for longer than a second. 

Jennie could no longer recognise herself, the person Y/n had made her when she left.

She got in the car and started it, making sure to blast the AC to cool of her warm body. There was only one star that was lighting up Jennie's dark world that had never been whole. The world that she had made was so horrible that upon entering most people left a second later because it was hard to breathe when standing in the waste of toxicity she had surrounded her presence with. The gates opened and she drove out, leaving the premises where she had been hiding out of shame for the past two weeks.

Jennie was heaving for breath after she made it up the stairs, using all her leftover energy to make it up as her body was exhausted. Her eyes landed on the few boxes that stood outside the door she had walked through many times before. Now it felt like a greater task to even knock. She hadn't come up with anything to say, her brain was running F1 races in a loop but they all seemed to crash, leaving her with incoherent thoughts.

All those lies she had always perfected seemed too flawed to say now. She wanted to go out of her way and lie for the girl to make it all better because the truth somehow always made it all worse, but so did the lies. Jennie stuttered when she knocked because nothing was good enough to say. She just wanted Y/n to forgive and forget and take her back in. It was stupid to hope because she knew it would never happen, the girl would never fix it for her when she opened and Jennie had no clue what to say.

It smelled of weed and coffee and Jennie had forgotten to check the time, date, and day as her days had been changed. She realised that it was morning, not evening and that she hadn't slept the whole night.

"Please, just talk to me." She begged the girl who looked like she hadn’t stopped crying for a second with eyes tired and her usual perfect posture slumped in despair. 

Y/n looked at the woman who made her insides twist with hatred and adoration. She looked a mess as she pushed the sunglasses up, revealing her glossed-over eyes and dark circles around them. If possible, Jennie looked thinner and her voice was barely there. She looked back over her shoulder at the footsteps and the older woman looked past to see Lisa who walked out of the bedroom confused. It went silent for a few seconds.

Lisa gave a questioning look; wanting to know what Y/n was going to do.

"I will be just outside." She mumbled and Jennie stepped back, her heart increasing as Y/n stepped out of the apartment and closed the door after her.

"There's a reason as to why I am trying to get you out of my life, Jennie."

"But–"

"I don't like you, Jennie," this time the vixen was the one spitting out lies to make it easier for herself even if it was heavy on her heart. She couldn't do it any other way though. The tears were welling in her eyes because Jennie had that effect on her. Y/n couldn’t do this for much longer, it had torn her body enough and soon nothing would be left. This was for her good and it should have been this way from the start, but amidst it all Jennie felt like the best thing for her until now.

Jennie knew how to break her down, how to fix her, how to hold her.

She knew how to make her cry, how to make her feel, how to bring her to heaven and then hell.

Jennie knew how to bring her everywhere.

She shook her head, her lips parting at the words she knew weren't true. The feline could see in Y/n's eyes that she was lying, that she was denying the truth of it all. Jennie was the one who said she would always stay, but now she was the one being pushed away. Y/n didn't like being alone, but Jennie was there to take those fears away even if the girl was lying. She wasn't going to let it define her, her lies, she didn't care about them. All she cared about was getting back something she never had to finally have it.

"Why would you send him the video?" Her breath hitched as she was reminded of how everything had ended for her too. She shoved the hand off of her when Jennie tried to reach for her. Y/n had become fully aware of how toxic Jennie’s touch was and how easily she would become poisoned by it if she let this go on for too long. 

"You know why." She enunciated because they both knew why she sent that video. They both knew what Y/n had confessed to her in that car and Jennie helped her do what she was so scared of doing. She had freed her of these chains—at least she thought she had done, but it didn't seem to be the case.

"You're a selfish fucking asshole, that's what I know. I never needed you to do anything, Jennie–" Y/n scoffed, the tears falling at the thoughts coursing through her mind. The thoughts of never meeting Jennie and none of this happening. The thoughts of never seeing Jennie again after meeting her all these times and falling so deeply into her crushed world that she tried to sort out, but never could. "I never needed you in my life to begin with and you still came in between us." She bellowed, emitting words with hatred–hatred Jennie knew she had for her, hatred Jennie had for herself, but that wasn't the only thing Y/n felt for her.

"You're denying it because you didn't want to lose him, but now you have. You know that I can give you so much more than he would ever be able to." Jennie raised her voice, her tone abrasive from how sore her throat was. Her voice echoed through the stairwells of the apartment building, it boomed through their bodies as she clenched her fists and jaw after. She was doing everything to tough up, but her insides were turning to dust and she wanted nothing more than Y/n’s comfort. 

"I already told you the first time we met that I don't care about your money and status," she knew what Jennie meant, but she wasn't going to acknowledge the truth. It was easier to defy it and use something she didn't want instead.

"It's not about money, I can love you right, care for you, give you the world and not in a material way. I can give you what you need and you know it! You know what you feel for me and that he was in the way of it because you were scared."

Her tears ran down her face, they stung her skin as they had turned into something acidic. Her eyes were bleeding tears, they didn't want to stop when she saw Y/n. To see the girl she was slowly losing more and more with each second made her try and hold back her sobs at how real her loss was becoming to her. Y/n wasn’t faltering, she wasn’t seeing what Jennie was, and she wasn’t giving in.

"You say that you love me yet hurt me and excuse it as something out of control. Is that what you think I need? For someone to fucking drain me in different ways? I don't feel anything for you except hatred." 

"That's not true! Please understand me for once. You said yourself that you wanted him to break up with you, to have a reason to leave you and now he did. You weren't just being selfish but hurting yourself, Y/n—" She felt helpless as she started to sob because nothing she said worked or changed the girl's mind. Jennie was slowly giving up, she was close to getting on her knees and begging her if she would just let her. 

Y/n didn't get to move, but flinch when Jennie's frail body forced itself onto her lithe one and she hugged around her waist. It made Y/n's back crash into the door and she whimpered at the discomfort of still feeling warmth bubble in her at Jennie's coaxing touch. It was still comforting and the home she wanted it to be. She felt so horrible for Jennie and the state that she was in, she felt guilty, but she knew that she shouldn’t be. It was almost enough to make her give in.

"I didn't want to hurt you in any way, everything I have ever done to you was because I wanted to do the best for you. It was selfish, but can't you see that I am willing to go out of my way to love you? Give me a chance, I swear I will work on myself and love you like you should be loved, Y/n. Please, I beg you." Jennie's whole body shook as she cried on Y/n's shoulder, taking in the sweet floral scent that she wanted to drown in. The scent she would use on her sheets just to feel content when she wasn't with the girl. It made her feel warmth and hope, it made her feel whole for even just a second.

Jennie loved her, she loved her too much. She loved her enough to hurt her just to keep her.

Y/n gripped Jennie's shoulders and pulled her away from her because this was bad for both of them no matter how much they wanted each other. They weren’t what they needed, not then, not now, and not ever. They were never supposed to meet, to begin with and it had all just been an unfortunate tragedy that they did.

"You should've worked on yourself before you decided to get involved with someone and fall in love." Y/n was starting to find it pathetic, yet heartbreaking as she felt terrible for pushing Jennie away because she could see how her soul shattered like glass just through Jennie’s teary eyes. Y/n’s feelings were just too complicated for her to be with anyone at the moment, especially someone like Jennie. "I don't have time for you, Jen–I have to pack. Leave." Jennie tried to grasp at Y/n's sweater but got her hands diverted away from her.

"Where're you going?" She choked out, pushing past the lump of stones in her throat as they were cutting through it, slowly killing her. 

"Back to Chicago."

"What? What– What about your school and everything, you can't just leave–" Now her world was close to an end when she got to hear that the girl wasn't just leaving her, but also the city of angels. She was going far, far from Jennie and it was making her even more sceptical about even seeing her ever again. It was destroying Jennie as she felt her stomach twist, her heart getting cut through with dull knives, making the process much more painful from how slowly it was being torn.

"Taking a break, but you need to leave now Jennie. I don't want to see you anymore. Please, get yourself together because neither of us deserves this."

She didn't get to say another word to the girl. Jennie didn't get to hold her, kiss her, or tell her any sweet words before she saw Y/n for the last time before she closed the door on her. 

That was the last she got to see of her.

That was the last of the light she got in her dark world before it finally shattered and there was nothing left but a void. 

TAGSLIST! @yxlis @jisooftme @geeminz @lisas-earlobe @badaspookie @xszn @badasgff @hwm1hyun @herwhcre @lilacura @naycore @dreamingst99 / taglist is open

masterlist

[gennyanydots]

Big Bay Boom

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x f!reader

Summary: It’s the Fourth of July and your family is spending it with the rest of the daggers in San Diego.

Warnings: vague mention of sex,

Part of the 'Spitfire' Universe

Can be read as a standalone but makes more sense if you've read some of the other stories.

You were learning that being stationed at the same place for an extended period of time came with a few perks. Not having to pack your things every five minutes was a big perk. Settling into your own home. Your husband’s Captain making friends with people who can arrange for your husband’s entire squad to watch the San Diego fireworks show on a ship in the harbor (and then later finding out Mav just asked Warlock and used a picture of your son looking sad and told him he would be responsible for your son’s sad face if he couldn’t make it happen. Where or when Mav got that picture is a mystery).

Getting to see the fireworks without having to fight the crowds sounded like an amazing idea. One year you decided that your family should see the fireworks in downtown San Diego and you quickly learned that had been the stupidest idea you had ever had. Jake and you taking Eli all the way into the city had been a disaster. There were too many people. Parking was a mess. You didn’t find much to eat that a toddler would even like. You were terrified you were going to lose Eli in the crowd despite your husband and you watching him like a hawk. The only person who had a good time was Eli and you had been thankful for that at least.

When Jake had come home the week prior and said the squad wanted to go to San Diego for the Fourth of July you were quick to shoot that idea down. A toddler AND a baby? No. No way. Not even with the extra adults.

Jake promised that you wouldn’t be downtown for the fireworks and that you wouldn’t even be downtown as it got dark. You begrudgingly agreed after you heard the squad decided to go downtown not for the fireworks but to take your children to the zoo. It still blew your mind that your husband’s Navy squad cared so much about your children.

When the day came around you packed up your two children along with all the stuff you needed for the day and headed off to the San Diego zoo.

Upon arriving you found the entire squad ready to help get your kids in gear for the zoo. Grandma Penny took your daughter from the car seat faster than you could even get out of your seat. She quickly covered your daughter in a layer of sunscreen before passing her off to Bob’s wife who was so excited to snuggle her. She then wrangled your son out of Bradley’s arms to do the same before passing him right back because nobody could keep those two separate for long except Bradley’s girlfriend who seemed happy to let him hold your wiggly boy.

It definitely helped your anxiety to see so many adults surround your children. Their own security team. You’re pretty sure you heard Javy growl at someone just walking by who just happened to glance in the squad’s direction. You knew in your heart that no matter what Javy would protect your babies forever.

By the time you made it into the zoo, everyone was acting like children from the excitement of the zoo. Poor Maverick had at least five adults yelling at him to get them ice cream before your son and daughter joined in which meant Grandpa Mavvie had to follow through. The day Grandpa Mavvie told your children “No” was the day hell froze over.

You couldn’t help but laugh as poor Maverick tried to wrangle his elite squad of pilots and wso’s as he attempted to get them all ice cream. Maybe one day you should record it so you can send it into “America’s Funniest Home Videos” because you’re positive you’d win.

You felt extra sorry for the poor worker who was trying their best to keep up with everyone yelling out their ice cream order before you quickly pulled out your phone and made everyone come and tell you what they wanted so you could have an accurate count for Maverick. Penny watched the entire ordeal while laughing at Mav as he tried to keep up with everyone.

Everyone finished their ice cream quickly due to the hot day and you were all off again.

Upon seeing the “Skyfari” that went high above the zoo your daughter started to demand going on the “ride” so that’s where you all went next. It ended up being her favorite part of the entire day. Jake decided it was because Ella clearly takes after him and wants to be in the air. You figured she just enjoyed the ride.

You enjoyed what happened beforehand.

Before getting in the little zoo tram car your husband easily folded Ella’s stroller. There was just something about watching a competent man easily fold a stroller and then lift it one handed that was just so attractive to you. You don’t even care that Jake gave you a funny look after he noticed you staring at him after he got the stroller ready for the ride. Maybe tonight you’d be able to celebrate with some “fireworks” of your own with your husband. Fingers crossed.

The zoo took several hours to get through and you were pretty sure you still didn’t see everything. You’re sure you’d have to come back another day to see it all and to go on Ella’s favorite part again since you knew your daughter well enough to know she would demand to go again soon.

You all decided to eat dinner at the zoo since trying to find somewhere that everyone liked that could fit such a large group would be impossible.

Penny decided that she was taking Ella home as you all walked back to your vehicles for the next part of your day after eating. She didn’t feel like staying up to watch the fireworks when she could instead go to bed early which was something that didn’t happen often being a bar owner. Plus one less child to keep track of helped your mama brain. You’re pretty sure Ella would not do well with the loud booms so you quickly agreed to Penny taking your daughter for some extra snuggle time with grandma that your daughter was not against in the slightest. You knew Penny would never play favorites with your children but being a girl mom made it much easier for her to bond with Ella than with your rough and tumble son who’s favorite thing to do at their house was to wrestle with Grandpa Mavvie. Ella was still happy to snuggle with Grandma Penny.

With one less child you moved onto the next part of your day.

Eating at the zoo gave you all just enough time to get to the base so that Jake could show Eli his plane- for the billionth time. Eli LOVED to see his daddy's plane especially since there was a picture of him in it so it was like he was flying with his daddy every time he flew. The other daggers tried to show Eli their planes too but he only sort of liked Bradley's because there was a picture of his teacher in it so it was like his teacher was flying too if Bradley and his daddy were flying together. All the other planes were less fun but he still looked at every single one so he didn't hurt his aunt's and uncle's feelings.

As Eli was occupied you took the moment with everyone else to really stress how someone needed to have a hand on your son at all times while on the ship. You were excited about seeing the fireworks in the bay but you also needed to know that your son was safe.

Maverick just rolled his eyes at you and gathered you into his arms for a hug before kissing your forehead and promising that nothing would happen to Eli and he personally would be the first one to jump off the ship to save him if the unthinkable happened, not that it would ever happen.

Maverick then nodded his head towards Bradley who had your Eli on his shoulders both wearing matching lifejackets, "Rooster didn't want Eli to feel singled out. Also I highly doubt Rooster is going to put your son down any time soon and if he does I don't think he would be on his feet long before someone else sticks him on their shoulders so he can see."

You take a deep breath and nod at his words. You know that none of the daggers would ever let anything happen to Eli, it's just hard to let go.

Once on the ship it wasn't long before everyone was laughing and dancing around to the music that the bay was playing as you all waited for the fireworks to begin. Eli loved watching the drone show that went on before the fireworks.

When the fireworks started you were amazed by how close you really were to them regardless of being a safe distance away. You felt the booms deep in your chest as they went on. From the water you could see the different barges in the ocean that were shooting fireworks off so instead of one show you got to watch multiple. Every few booms you made sure to check where your son was, finding him always on the shoulders of someone. Apparently now was Javi's turn as you see Bradley snuggled up close to his girlfriend much like you currently were with Jake. In fact you could see Bob and his wife in much the same position but when you looked closer you could see Bob's hand lightly rubbing his wife's stomach. He must not have meant to because he immediately stopped and quickly looked around to see if anyone noticed. Upon catching you looking he quickly put his pointer finger to his lips. You winked at him and made the same motion back to let him know you'd keep their secret.

"What was that?" Jake asked you, bending down to make sure you could hear him.

You shake your head, "None of your business. Super secret married people things, you wouldn't know anything about."

Jake groans, "But I am married. To you. I am married to you."

You shrug, "Doesn't mean you get to know. Sorry baby."

You smile as you look around at all the friends around you and lean back against your husband's chest as he holds you tighter. Holidays, including the fourth, are much better spent with your new found family.

[gravityglitch-blog]

Wishes for Absolution

(The night before the trip to Cabin Fever Labs, N and Uzi lean on each other for comfort.)

Part I: N

He woke up with the fever and the screams running through him again.

N shook himself to loosen the grip of memory. He grabbed a severed drone arm from the stash in the corner of the landing pod, his current home. The oil was old, clotted, but it did the job of bringing down his temperature. He had always felt guilty that his life came at the cost of others. There was no taking back what he had done. He had sworn now to only take oil from already-slain drones.

Robo-God knew, there were more than enough of those. Though it didn’t sate his hunger as well as fresh oil, it would do.

The Worker Drones were corrupted. A problem to be solved. That was the lie he’d been sold, the task he’d been given, and oh, had he done it well. He’d taken no joy in it, that much was true. He’d been driven by survival instinct more than the mission. But all that oil was still on his hands, and nothing would ever wash it away.

Perched atop the landing pod now, the icy wind ruffling his hair and only the moons of Copper Nine for company, N reflected on his victims. They’d all tried to run, at first. Most had pleaded for their lives. Some sad few had fallen limp the moment he got hold of them, accepting their fate. For what felt like the thousandth time, he tried and failed to remember if any of them had a familiar shade of purple hair. If any of them resembled the one and only Worker who had ever fought back, and won. Uzi Doorman.

Even thinking of her now brought a strange mixture of comfort and guilt to his chest.

Comfort, because she was the only one in his strange life who had ever treated him like a real person, who he could name as his best friend without hesitation. Guilt, because if his fear proved true, and he had stained himself with Doorman family oil, he would lose her forever.

He looked to the corpse spire on the horizon, where V preferred to make her home these days. Away from him. He didn’t blame her. They didn’t exactly see eye to eye anymore, if they ever had. During the short time Uzi had stayed with them, the tiny pod had felt crowded, but for the first time, it had felt something like home.

Aside from her schemes to take the fight to Earth, and to the humans who had brought all this upon them, Uzi had also shared with him bits and pieces of her life. He’d listened to her recite the long and sometimes complicated storylines of the anime she had pirated. He hadn’t understood a thing, but it didn’t matter.

He’d been silently overjoyed that someone was talking to him. In return, he’d told her about the dreams he’d been having, which he suspected were memories. He’d told her about how he wished he could have a pet someday, and that he wanted to learn about art. Copper Nine was a bleak canvas of whites and grays, and he found himself longing for colors. Not only had she listened to him, she had even started teaching him how to draw. The walls of the pod were decorated with some of his earliest attempts, done with crayons he’d once discovered on a scouting mission and hidden from J. If she’d found them, she would have destroyed them. There were a few of Uzi’s drawings, too. Normally they made him feel better, but tonight, they only helped highlight his loneliness in neon red.

He looked toward the spire, a monument to his crimes. Broken bodies. Broken lives.

“I know it will never be enough,” he said quietly, as one speaks at a gravesite. “But I am so, so sorry.”

The corpses did not answer.

Loneliness, the ever-present bug in his systems, was eating voraciously at him tonight. It tortured him with all he couldn’t remember and all he couldn’t forget. He couldn’t stay still any longer. His wings snapped open and he took to the dark sky. He told himself it was just a quick flight to clear his mind. But he already knew where he was going.

Part II: Uzi

Uzi trudged back into her room, the skirt of her prom dress swirling around her. It was the fanciest clothing she had, and tonight, she’d had need of it. Her father had been honored with an awards ceremony.

After the colony had struck a truce with the Disassembly Drones, he’d come up with a new invention: windows. “They’re like doors, but for your eyes!”

Everyone had been amazed by this concept. Because it gave her father such a glow of pride, and because he’d been trying so hard to do better by her, Uzi had held back her usual sarcasm. She’d been the first to receive a window in her room. Almost all the living quarters had them now. It was nice to be able to see the sky. She had taken to using one of her spare black hoodies to cover it up during the brightest part of the day. The sunlight made her feel strange and achy. Most likely because she’d never seen so much of it before. The ceremony had been nice, full of happy chatter and congratulations. People were almost willing to talk to her now.

But the noise had eventually made her tired.

So had that oil smell that seemed to hover over the whole gym, where prom had been held not so long ago. They probably hadn’t been able to clean it all up yet. No one else had seemed bothered by it, though.

She’d excused herself, leaving her dad to enjoy his moment.

She changed into the oversized shirt, baggy pants printed with cartoon bats, and fluffy black cat slippers she wore to bed. She was about to put the dress away when something made her stop and stare at it. The memory of the very first time she’d worn it, with N.

A blush rose unbidden to her face. She wished it could have been a normal date. Without all the murder.

A date? Where had that thought come from??

If she was being honest with herself, she missed N. Despite all the differences between them, no one had ever made her feel so understood. She would see him again tomorrow, during the field trip. She’d also see V again, too. This she didn’t look forward to so much. But even she had to admit that V was trying. The friendship that their killer prom queen had struck with Lizzy had slowly been turning into something more genuine. Maybe there was hope for them all yet. Tired as she was, Uzi was still feeling restless. She had just set her beaten-but-tough old laptop to watch something when she heard a series of quick taps at her window.

“What the heck?”

She pulled open her makeshift blackout drapes to see N’s smiling face. He was hanging upside down and waving at her.

“N!” 

She slid the window open.

“Hi, Uzi!”

“Hey,” she smiled. “I thought you’d be resting until tomorrow. What’s up?”

“I wanted to return your book!” He held up the manga volume that had been missing so long she’d almost given up on it. “Also…” he scratched at the back of his head. “I’m having trouble sleeping. Nightmares.”

Uzi nodded, no stranger to nightmares herself.

She stepped aside to allow him space to climb in, but still he lingered out in the cold.

Then she remembered. “You can come in, N.”

He smiled again and clambered through, having some trouble with his tall build. It hit her like a punch in the face that this was the first time he’d visited her home. All her belongings looked small next to him. 

“Will your dad be okay with me being here?”

“Probably not. But he’s not home. The colony is still celebrating the invention of the window.”

She returned the book to its proper place on the shelf before noticing that N had gone strangely quiet. He was staring at her. More accurately, at her stupid, dorky pajamas!

Part III: N

He’d always thought Uzi was cute. Any Drone who thought otherwise needed their optics checked. When he’d seen her in her prom dress not long ago, “cute” had upgraded to “beautiful”, and he’d just barely stopped himself from saying so. But he’d never seen her like this. Wearing a well-loved shirt and pants that draped over her tiny frame. Fuzzy slippers.

But what most caught his attention was her hair. For once, she was without her signature beanie. Her hair was longer and fluffier than he’d thought, gently tousled as if she’d just run her fingers through it. He was wondering what it would feel like to do just that when he pulled himself back to reality. 

“Uzi,” he said quietly, “You look so cu—“

She crossed her arms over her chest. “I swear to Robo-God, if you say “cute”—“

“Cozy!” He substituted quickly. “You look really cozy, like you just woke up.”

Uzi squinted at him, weighing his answer. Finally a small laugh escaped her. “I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, no, did I wake you up?” He asked, feeling guilty now. “It’s okay, I can leave—“

“No, you don’t have to go! I just got back from my dad’s award thing. I…I’m kind of feeling nervous about the trip tomorrow. I was going to watch some anime to help me calm down.”

He nodded, then sank down to sit cross-legged on her floor. He fussed with the hem of his coat. What he wanted to say refused to solidify into words. Uzi perched on the edge of her bed, patient, listening.

It came out almost without him realizing. “I’m a monster, Uzi.”

She didn’t have an immediate reply to that. She hugged her knees to her chest. 

“What brought this on?”

“Ever since we met, I’ve been thinking about everything. All I’ve done. The reason I was made. Everyone I’ve ever…killed.” He looked up at her. His eyes flickered with the threat of tears.

“I almost killed you, the best person I’ve ever met. How can you even look at me?”

Uzi rested her chin atop her knees. “I decapitated you the day we met. I’m hardly in a place to pass judgment.”

She must have sensed how disturbed he was, because she took her time before continuing.

For awhile, the only sound was the distressed pounding of his heart.

“The reason you were made,” she said at last. “You didn’t get to choose that. You didn’t choose killing just to be able to survive. Everything that you did before…I’m not going to say it doesn’t matter. But the way I see it, you were the weapon. You were used. Besides, the company, or whoever’s behind all this, made you reliant on oil. Maybe…if we learn more, dig deep enough…maybe we can find a cure?” The little note of hope in her voice nearly ended him. This girl had his heart in total free fall, and she didn’t even know it. She was still talking.

“There could be something to help, so you won’t need to drink oil anymore. So the sun won’t hurt you.”

His gaze drifted to her window. “That would be something. To see the world by daylight.”

“I’ll show you,” she promised with a gentle smile. “Not that there’s much to see on this rock.”

“Doesn’t matter, so long as I get to see it with you.”

A brief silence and blush lines followed this.

Uzi tugged on her hair, something he’d noticed she often did when nervous.

“Do you want to stay and watch some anime with me? It sometimes helps when the nightmares are bad and I can’t sleep.”

N’s eyes hollowed. “Not the one with the scary book again!”

Uzi was already digging through a box at the corner of her room. “No, not that one. Look, no one even knows I have this anime. I’ve got my reputation to protect. So you can’t tell anyone, okay?”

In answer, N mimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. He helped her arrange her pillows and blankets into a fort / nest on the floor. Once they were settled in, Uzi hit “play” on her laptop, and the opening theme began.

“Fighting evil by moonlight! Winning love by daylight! Never running from a real fight! She is the one named Sailor Moon!”

N was entranced by the story of these magical girls and their fight to defend love and justice.

Uzi seemed happy to openly geek out, something she hadn’t dared show anyone else. He felt a deep sense of gratitude that she would share this with him.

“Sailor Mars has always been my favorite,” she said, as the character sent a firestorm hurtling toward her enemy onscreen.

“I think I’d pick Usagi for my favorite,” N chimed in.

“I thought you might.”

“Why?’

“She’s just like you. Strong, brave…maybe a little silly, but with her heart wide open.”

Uzi’s eyes grew wide when she realized what she’d just said. N resisted the urge to pull his hat down over his face to hide his furious blush. As the episodes rolled on, N felt the exhaustion finally creeping up on him. He slumped against Uzi’s shoulder like a pillow. He felt her start, but she didn’t push him away. Her skin was pleasantly cool against his cheek, soothing the constant fever. He could hear her heart beat a comforting rhythm. 

He had almost silenced that rhythm forever.

He shuddered and instinctively burrowed more closely into her side.

Never again. He would never let anything hurt her ever again. The vow brought him some peace. He was halfway asleep when she spoke up.

“N?”

“Hmm?”

“When I went out there that first night—“ she hesitated. He looked up at her, eyes curious and drowsy.

“I was so stupid,” she finished sadly. “I thought I was going to be some kind of hero, like in these stories. I was going to be the one to save Copper Nine and we’d all live happily ever after. But what if I’m not meant to be the hero? What if I’m just a screwup like everyone’s always said?”

“How silly,” N said, more asleep than awake now. “Of course, you’re my hero. You’re going to save us all and find a cure, remember? And I’ll be your faithful sidekick!”

Uzi laughed, a wonderful sound to him. “You’re no sidekick. You’re way more than that. You’re my—“

Here she stopped again, unable to find the word she wanted.

He glanced up at her as the silence stretched. What would she say? Friend? Partner? No, that was too intimate…

With a shrug, she gave up and said simply, “You’re my N.”

Sleepiness had lowered his inhibitions. He reached up and gently twirled a lock of her hair around his finger before letting it spring free again. “My Uzi.”

A comforting quiet settled over them, until he felt himself entering sleep mode. Instead of a nightmare, he was met by Uzi’s voice, singing a soft lullaby.

“Deep in my soul

Love so strong

It takes control

Now we both know

The secrets bared

The feelings show

Driven far apart

I’ll make a wish on a shooting star

There will come a day, somewhere far away

In your arms I’ll stay, my only love

Even though you’re gone, love will still live on

The feeling is so strong

My only love”

His last thought before the soft dark claimed him was, What a beautiful dream.

This is the song I imagined Uzi singing, from the 90’s Sailor Moon dub. This song touches my heart to this day.