#or whatever the lyric in two-headed mother is

[devilsyuri]

lestat making louis’ sentence banishment vs. hannibal making sure will’s smile was surgical and wouldn’t kill him. yeah

[tofics]

Almost Like You Need Someone

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Song Inspo: Be Someone by Benson Boone

Summary: You, Dean and Sam are fighting America's monsters together. Coming from a long line of hunters, you fit right in with the Winchester boys, with one exception: your character shines as bright as the sun, bringing light even into the darkest corners of every place you go. Dean's never seen anything like it. Before he knows it, he's become infatuated with you...

Word count: 2434 words

Warnings: mention of child death, other than that it's just fluff!

A/N: I came across the song that inspired this one shot yesterday and got to writing pretty much right away. I couldn't help but imagine what could have become of Dean if he'd had a constant source of happiness in his life and this one shot is what came out of that. Just pure fluff. I couldn't stop grinning while writing this 🤪 I integrated the song's lyrics here and there. I highly recommend listening to the song before/during reading. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 🤭

Bobby introduced you to the boys, one lonesome duckling getting paired with two other lonesome ducklings. Together, the three of you take on the world as a flock. You’ve hunted together with Dean and Sam for quite some time now. Just one and a half years older than Sam, you’ve grown quite comfortable sandwiched between the two Winchester boys.

The work isn’t easy. More often than not, you return from a hunt covered in gore from head to toe. Blood, intestines, slime - you’ve been doused in it all, and then some. Despite the gruesome nature of your job, you have a way of keeping a light heart around it all. It’s physically challenging - but it keeps you fit. You have no permanent home - but you get to travel the country. You don’t get paid in dollars, but in the gratitude of the people you’ve saved. Whatever happens - you’ll find a way of putting a positive spin on it.

And it’s not just for show either. You’re a good-natured spirit through and through, bringing light and smiles to every room you set a foot into.

It’s one of the many things that have Dean completely puzzled and amazed at the same time. He's never seen anything like it. How someone who grew up in the hunter’s business could be as lighthearted as you are is beyond him, even though he knows your story. Your family has been hunting what goes bumping in the night for generations. It’s this expertise that has brought about your family’s devotion to a happy life: to fight the dark, you need to carry light in your heart. With two parents who doted on you any second they were not wrapped up in a hunt, you got raised in a world where there were monsters under your bed, but also parents by your side to teach you how to deal them. For each terror you fought, your parents would go out of their way to show you not one, but two instances of the good and beautiful in the world. They kept your scale balanced and ignited the spark that grew into the light you now carry within you, spreading it towards anyone you meet. And it’s infectious.

It starts slow. At first, it’s an easy smile that appears on Dean’s face anytime you enter the room without him even being aware of it. It grows wider when you give him a smile of your own, and you do, every day, without fail. He finds himself making jokes just to hear your laugh. It hasn’t yet occurred to him that he wants to be the reason that the corners of your lips turn upwards, that he wants to be the one to put that spark in your eyes.

On long research nights at the library, he gets you coffee, making you giggle when he tells Sam to get his own with a wink at you. It’s disguised as silly banter between brother and brother, not clear favoritism for you.

You connect with victims and their families in your own, heartfelt way that reminds him of the way his mother used to tend to him when he was small. There’s kindness and softness in your voice and more often than not, you end up wiping tears of your face as you’re told about the people the families are grieving. He teases you about it but hopes you never stop.

A small voice appears in his head and questions him when he makes sure not to sit next to you every time you guys go out to eat a diner so as not to raise suspicion. ‘Suspicion of what?’ the small voice says, but he shoves it aside and tells it to shut it, the same way he tells Sammy to quit yapping when he’s going on his nerves.

He shares little about his past but answers honestly when you ask, just not in so many words. Part of him doesn’t like talking about it, even if it’s you. The other part of him wants you to do the talking. Doesn’t matter what it’s about. He wants to know it all. Sam can share one of his literature findings and it goes into one ear and out the other, unless it’s case-related. You, on the other hand, get started on a ramble about the cinematography of a French movie you saw last night, and he finds himself intrigued with your analysis, despite never having cared for any French movie of any kind. Sam is happy to join the conversation, having seen the movie himself, and it’s the first time he gives Dean a look of suspicion. “Since when do you care about this stuff?” Dean grunts. “I don’t. It’s just that she makes it sound a LOT more interesting than you do.” He slaps his baby brother on the back of the head and that’s the end of that. For a while.

You share your time equally with the brothers, naturally flowing from one to the other as the situation sees fit. Never having been one to shy away from body contact, you’re often sprawled out over the two of them on the couches that are slightly too big for two and awkwardly too small for three in your motel rooms. A head leaning on Sam’s shoulder, one leg stretched out over Dean’s lap. Sleeping arrangements usually turn out in your favor, although you never ask to be treated with privilege. The boys insist: you get one side of the bed, always. A quick game of rock, paper, scissors determines who gets the other side and who gets the couch. The longer you three travel together, the more Dean hopes to beat the game, although he loses to Sam more often than he likes. The small voice becomes louder in those nights on the couch, when he’s tossing and turning and telling himself that the only reason he wants to be on one side of that bed is not because you’re on the other side of it, but because the cushions of the sofa are all worn out and uncomfortable and he’ll wake up with a stiff neck. Still, the small sting he feels when he wakes in the morning and sees you sprawled across the bed, your head nestled against Sam’s arm, is undeniable. “Wake up, you two love-birds,” he tends to say and throws a pillow at Sam’s face, never at you. Without fail, Sam throws the pillow back, paired with a grouchy “shut up” and an eye-roll. It makes you laugh, the way the two sometimes bicker like an old married couple. Dean wonders if Sam truly feels as nonchalant about it as he appears or if he enjoys the way you cuddle up to him at night. On the rare occasions that Dean does share the bed with you, you try to keep on your side of the bed after you noticed him stiffen up when you rolled up against him. He often thinks about telling you that you don't have to do that, that you can cuddle up to him in bed the same way you do on the couch, but he doesn't know how without it sounding awkward.

One day, your trio gets a particularly rough case. This time, there's a child among the victims. He sees the family's grief rip into you and bury its claws deep, fueled by your empathy that he's come to see as a strength, rather than a weakness. It takes you longer to recover than it normally does. Despite killing the responsible monster and setting an end to its killing spree, the light that usually shines so bright within you remains dim. Both Sam and Dean feel the affect the child's death has had on you.

Sam, ever the more capable one when it comes to feelings, asks if you want to talk about it. And although it's not Dean's field of expertise, he listens intently. He wants to know about your pain, even if he doesn't know how to take it from you. He lets Sam do most the talking but keeps looking at you through the rearview mirror. That's when he sees it for the first time, the smallest look from behind your eyes when yours meet his - that this is a moment where you need someone to be the light. That night, he gets on Sam's laptop and does some research of his own.

The next day, him and Sam are arguing about the best possible route towards their next stop. On other days, you would intervene, but you remain silent and look out the window, leaving him and Sam to figure it out on their own. Sam is convinced the direction Dean wants to go is a detour, but Dean insists it's the correct way. Half an hour later, the three of you drive through a town's main street when you suddenly come to live in the backseat: you've spotted a pet shop, its window full with a litter of puppies climbing over themselves. You turn to Dean in the driver's seat and ask if you can make a quick stop here. Already, there's a stronger glow in your eyes than there was a moment ago. "Sure, why not," he replies. "I could use a bit of a stretch for my legs."

When you step out to go see the puppies, Sam looks at him with a knowing smile. "That was nice of you." - "I have no idea what you're talking about." Dean gets out of the care and stretches his legs, but Sam is quick to follow him. "Dude." He rests his arms Baby's roof and watches Dean stalk around the car. "You never take driving breaks except to take a piss. I've never once seen you 'stretch your legs' before." He puts his hands in the air, miming air-quotes. "So what? I'm sore from the hunt. Son of a bitch had me sprinting." Dean shrugs and leans against the hood of the car, apparently all done with his mini-workout. Sam just smiles that knowing smile again. "Sure. Whatever you say." A couple of minutes later, you return to the car. Your light is not back to full capacity quite yet, but there's color in your cheeks and crinkles by your eyes, leftover from the smile that's still lingering on your lips. "How was it?" Sam asks when you sit down on the backseat. You lean forward and grip the edges of their seat. "So. Many. Puppies," you say in a breathy voice. "Cuteness overload. I think I died and went to heaven for a moment there." Both the brothers chuckle and you settle into your seat while Dean gets Baby back on the road. Sam glances in the rearview mirror and sees you have resumed your position at the window, but you seem more light-weighted than you did just a few minutes ago. Another glance at his big brother and he smiles to himself. Bringing the smile count in the car to three, Dean is wearing his satisfied smile proudly.

From there on, Sam subtly removes himself from your trio now and then. He suggests you and Dean talk to a victim's friend while he'll speak to the professor they think could help them. During another late night at yet another library, he purposely sits diagonally from you, leaving the chair opposite and next to you open. He offers to get dinner, leaving you and Dean at the motel room the three of you have booked for the night.

Dean doesn't notice. He's too busy finding the balance between what he wants and what he thinks is appropriate. What he wants is you, to be near you, all the time. The light in you is addicting. It's such a stark contrast to everything he's known for most of his life. When his mother passed, the darkness that took over John and consumed him also infected Dean. He did his best to shield his baby brother from it, and sometimes, when he looks at Sam, he can see that his efforts weren't in vain. The youngest Winchester has an optimism about him that Dean never found himself. He's happy for his brother. It's never crossed his mind than in the process of protecting Sam, he never took care of himself. His own twilight never seemed so troublesome, he got used to it after all and eventually knew his way around, the way you can walk through your own house in the pitch-black of night and not knock into anything because you know where everything is placed. He didn't need to light a match or even a candle, it was always just bright enough to make out the outline of the furniture. That is, until he met you, and you shone so bright that, for a brief moment, his insights got illuminated, like the headlights of a passing car briefly dancing across a room at night, and suddenly, the furniture turned from grey to color.

And now he needs more. He didn't know how intoxicating a person could be, until he met you. Suddenly, a lit match isn't enough, neither is a candle. He needs your floodlights, the way a ship needs a beacon. He's drawn to you like a moth to the flame.

And sure, he could live without you. He's lived in the semi-darkness for so long and it's familiar, but now he's seen color, and fuck, he wants it.

But more than that, he wants to be someone for you. He sees what you do for the world and wants to give it back to you, doubled, tripled, quadroupled. He wants to be your someone to have, someone to hold, your somewhere to go when nights get cold. He wants to be the one to sweep you off your feet.

However, wanting one thing and doing it can be two different things at opposite ends of the spectrum. The more he's drawn to you, the less he finds the words to tell you so. 'What if's cross his mind. What if you don't feel the same? What if, by admitting how he feels, he ruins what you guys have? It keeps him up at night while he wishes that he was the reason to keep you up.

It doesn't seem so hopeless, though. From time to time, you give him the smallest look from behind your eyes, and it's almost like you need someone. And every single time, without fail, he thinks that he could be that someone.

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Find part 2 here! - Masterlist

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐒𝐎 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍

SUMMARY: five times you almost say i love you and the one time you do

PAIRING: callum turner x gn!american!reader

TAGS: FLUFF, inspired by “so american” by olivia rodrigo, established relationship, song references (some obvious, some less obvious), fluff!!

A/N: started this when i was in my callum turner era and had this song on repeat so here we are… it’s vaguely set in socal bc i was feeling a tad bit homesick at the time… anyways, i’m not going to be writing out the lyrics to olivia’s song but the scenarios are heavily inspired by them. knowing the lyrics is ofc not a requirement to read this, you can 100% go into this without that knowledge and enjoy some cute fluff! i hope yall enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

masterlist || request box <3

The first time you almost said “I love you” was when he took you on a date to the beach.

Your feet were up on the dashboard as he drove, head against the seat and hand lazily weaving through the breeze out the open window.  It was beautiful out—the sun blazing high in the sky with no clouds in sight and the temperature just right. When the starting beats to Cruel Summer roared through the car’s speakers, the brightest smile grew on your face. When the chorus hit, you turned to face Callum and sing, eyes widening when he starting singing along with you.

“You know this song?”

He chuckled. Gosh, his smile. “Of course, I know this song.”

As the bridge of the song played, you both shouted along. 

And I screamed for whatever it's worth "I love you," ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

Almost as if the universe timed it perfectly, the song came to an end as Callum parked. As you giggled in the aftermath, you couldn’t help but admire him for a moment. The way his eyes matched the sky. The way his curls fell on his head from the wind. The way his cheeks grew as red the larger he smiled. “S’rude to stare, sweetheart.”

“I-��� Before you could finish your sentence, you cut yourself off.

“What?” he asked.

“I can’t help it,” you played off. “You’re just so pretty.”

The second time you almost said it was while he was dying his hair in preparation for The Boys in the Boat.

“How’s it lookin’, love?” Callum asked as you rinsed the bleach out of his hair.

You leaned back to get a better look at him. “It looks very… yellow,” you giggle.

He quickly stands and goes to look in the mirror, a hand stretching his hair to see for himself. “Is it supposed to look like this?”

You grinned in amusement as he cringed at the color of his hair. “S’a good thing we got purple shampoo.” As he sat down on the edge of the tub, you rummaged in the plastic bag you had bought the hair supplies in. Replacing the gloves you had on, you stood in front of him and poured a little bit in your hands, carefully spreading it through his hair. Even as you focused on getting his hair done, you didn’t fail to notice the way he stared at you as you worked.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s rude to stare, Cal?” His face flushed.

“S’not my fault you’re so pretty,” he whispered, his hands going to rest on your waist. Your chest clenched at his words, your own cheeks reddening. Looking down into his icy blue eyes, it almost slipped out of your mouth, but you caught yourself.

“Such a charmer, Mr. Turner.”

“Only for you, love.”

The third time you almost said it was when he took you to the Masters of the Air premiere in LA.

Thankfully enough, despite now having been together almost two years now, you’ve both successfully been able to have kept your relationship away from the public eye. Having seen the work he put into this project, you wanted to celebrate with him and suggested you walk with him on the carpet. 

He stepped out of the car first, buttoning his jacket before turning back and offering his hand to help you out of the car, a bright smile on his face. At the sight of just your hand, the flashes from the paparazzi cameras mere feet away flashed even quicker, and their roars got louder. “I got you, love,” he whispered, his hand never leaving you as you walked the carpet. 

Eventually, the both of you caught up to Austin and Barry, whose faces lit up at the sight of you. “Well, well, well,” Austin greeted, the southern drawl from his time playing Elvis peeking through. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he teased with a smile as if he hadn’t seen the pair of you a few days ago.

Barry ran over to Callum to give him a quick hug before turning to you with an even bigger smile. “S’lovely to see ya. Let’s take some pictures, aye? ”

You, Callum, Barry, and Austin stopped to pose together for a bit before they left the two of you to do some interviews further down the carpet. 

To your left!

This way, Callum!

To your right!

Give us a kiss!

He was quick to notice the fatigue growing on your face the longer you stayed in front of the sea of paparazzi. As you sat in your seats in the theater, he gave your hand a quick squeeze. When you glanced over to him, the look on his face made your heart swell. His blue eyes were soft and so filled with admiration. Just as you opened your mouth to say those three words, Barry barreled past you two into his seat next to Callum.

The fourth time you almost said it was on a random Tuesday in the weird period between spring and summer.

“It’s raining again,” you commented, both a little sad and happy with the weather. You and Callum had planned to go to the farmer’s market today but with the weather on top of the mood you had woken up in, it didn’t look like those plans were going through anymore.

Callum hummed as he turned on his side to look out the window. “Fucking June bloom,” you groaned, dropping your head back on your pillow. He turned back to face you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in closer. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you relaxed in his hold. 

“That kinda morning?” he gently asked to which you nodded. “I don’t mind a night in, love,” he whispered, placing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head. “As long as I’m with you.”

Your heart warmed at his words. “Thank you,” you mumbled against his chest. 

The fifth time you almost said it was on your birthday.

“What’s this?”

“Open it,” he encouraged, his eyes soft as he watched you. You narrowed your eyes before doing as he said. As you carefully unraveled the cute purple bow he wrapped around the tiny box, Callum watched with bated breath.

Lifting the lid revealed a small locket in the shape of a heart and when you opened it, one side with both of your initials carved into the metal and the other a picture of the two of you. You remembered when this was taken. It was from when you took him to Disneyland for the first time. It was a bit blurry but that didn’t matter.

“Callum…” you whispered, tears slowly filling your eyes at the sentiment. You quickly surged forward to pull him into a hug. 

“Do ya like it?”

“I- I love it. I love it,” you smile, placing a kiss to his lips which he gladly reciprocated. You could feel him smile as he pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Happy birthday, love.”

When you do finally say it, he had just finished doing an interview for Deadline magazine.

Callum did the interview on the phone and sat across the room, so you were within earshot of it all. “Your new film, Eternity, is said to explore who you’d want to spend an eternity with and where, so I have to ask: who and where might that be for you?” the interviewer asked. You tried your best not to eavesdrop, but the question intrigued you. What would his answer be?

The deepness of his voice brought you out of his thoughts as he answered. “If I had to spend an eternity with anyone, it would definitely be my partner. Where specifically is a little tough to say if I’m being completely honest. Anywhere they go, I’ll follow.”

Your heart melted. Did he really mean that? Soon enough the interview ended and you padded over to where he sat. “You’re such a sap, Cal.”

He smiled as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a kiss. “Eavesdropping now, are we?”

“Just a tiny bit,” you grinned. The way he looked at you sent your heart racing—a look filled with so much love. “I think I love you,” you blurted out. His eyes widened for a second before softening again.

“I think love you too,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. 

A/N: btw the deadline magazine refers to an actual interview he did but skewed to fit the purposes of this fic <3

[ilwonuu]

hiii love all of your work btw!!

hear me out please!, this might be a long one😭

okay so you and jaehyun (or whatever idol you may want to use) are best friends. and have been since childhood! your a dancer and he’s a idol so your schedules are complicated. your very close with each other’s families. so one day you visit his mom like usual and surprisingly he is there with his group visiting home too, which you didn’t know he was visiting. you guys are excited to see each other and everyone can see your chemistry ( you get introduced to everyone) but you guys say y’all are “best friends” even his family see it. y’all flirt. (a lot) boom spend the night smut and boom😭😭😭.

(ik it’s a lot i’m sorry😭)

thank u for saying u enjoy my work ily<3 NO NO ITS NOT A LOT ITS OERFECT KSJSHA,,, i love this idea and of course i love rhis idea with jaehyun ehehshs!! i hope u enjoy,,, thank youu for requesting <3

multiply

⤑ jeong jaehyun

𖤓 pairing- best friends to lovers, idol!jaehyun x nonidol!femreader, softdom!jae x sub!reader, established friendship

𖤓 warnings- lots of cringe flirting, kissing, fingering(f receiving), dirty talk, slight smut heheheheh(dw lmk if you want another smut part), lmk what else<333

𖤓 a/n- hiiiii im fulfilling my lovely anon’s ask!!! im so happy that u requested something!! i based this fic off of some of the lyrics from this song<3 thank u for reading🙃🙃

you almost cry after finding out about your 4 days off. you’ve been working yourself to the core with dancing. of course it’s something you love but you really need a break. you decide to go your best friends house. you know he isn’t going to be be there but it’s fine because you’re just as close with his family. his mother always being there for you whenever you needed. today you could use the company. you knock on the door a couple times waiting for her to open the door. to your surprise your very handsome best friend opens the door with a big smile.

“get in here.” he pulls you into a big hug. “jae? you didn’t tell me you were free!” you roll your eyes at him, letting go of him to greet his mother. you hug her with a smile. “i came to see you.” you smile getting comfortable a little more. you wave to the other guys in the room. “hi guys! i’m y/n nice to finally meet you all. i’ve heard a lot.” jaehyun smiles as he introduces each of the members to you.

“yea we have heard a lot too!” haechan smirks at you and jaehyun, causing johnny and mark to snicker at him. “you’re so pretty!” jungwoo says after you compliment his outfit. you smile knowing that you two will be great friends. exchanging numbers with the guys as you and jaehyun basically have the same friends. jaehyun pulls your attention back to him when he grabs your hand.

“so you guys are friends?” yuta asks looking as you guys intensely. “yea- best friends.” you smile at jaehyun. they see right through what you guys are telling yourselves. “definitely.” doyoung says as he laughs at how red jaehyun got at the question. “okay! are you guys hungry?” mrs. jeong cuts the silence with a smile.

after dinner, you and jaehyun spent the night watching your favorite childhood movies laughing and fucking flirting. how could you not flirt with the boy? it’s hard having a hot best friend (a lot of people suffer from this!!!) he has you in his arms as he mindlessly rubs your sides. you are melting in his arms. “i missed you.” he says taking your attention from the movie.

“i missed you more jae.” you smile at him. he blushes hard at the gesture. “no like i seriously couldn’t wait to see you. i couldn’t stop thinking of you.” he holds you tighter. “ew you’re being cheesy all of a sudden.” you playfully push him away. “shut up you love it baby.” you choke on your spit. baby?? what the fuck he never calls you baby. obviously because you guys are just friends,,,,definitely! “im just messing with you.” he smiles at you innocently.

“you’re annoying.” he shakes his head. “you don’t really think so, you like me too much.” he kisses your cheek and at first it seems sweet until he moves his kisses down your jaw. “is this okay?” your breath hitches as he holds you in place. “jaehyun- what are you doing?” you look at him nervously. “tell me you don’t want this and i’ll stop right now.” he rubs your side gently. “no- i want this.” you nod at him and he smiles.

“relax baby.” he helps you out of your shorts leaving you in just your panties. your back is against his chest as you rest between his legs. “look at me- good girl.” he smiles at you pulling you to kiss him. “i’ve wanted you like this for so long.” his voice is quiet as it leaves his lips. he’s been trying to ignore his feelings as were you. anyone could see that you guys were more than friends.

“kiss me again.” you sighed against his chest. he chuckles a little kissing your cheek before turning your head to kiss your lips. you moan into the kiss as your legs spread. his hand snakes to your thighs rubbing it gently.

“jaehyun- touch me.” you whisper to him. he nods at you pecking your lips. you grab his hand to move it higher against your thigh. he just smirks at you teasingly. “you’ve been thinking about this for a while huh baby? my hands touching you like this?” he teases as he moves your panties to the side.

“look at how wet you are just from me talking to you.” you nod shamelessly laying your head back on him. you feel one of his fingers sink into your aching cunt. “dirty girl, you are soaking.” he smirks at you as he adds another finger inside of you. “feels so good.” you sigh at the feeling. he scissors his fingers inside of you making you moan out his name. “mm jaehyun-“ you start to squirm as you get closer to your high.

“yea, you gonna cum baby?” he kisses your neck as he curls his fingers. you cum undone on his fingers with a sigh. “fuck you’re perfect.” he pulls you into a kiss. “do best friends finger each other?” jaehyun asks with a laugh causing you to roll your eyes at him. “you ruined the moment.” he smirks at you. “come here baby.” he pulls you into his arms before smothering you in kisses. “i want you to be my girlfriend, not my best friend.”

[deadonyouraccount]

Life Was Easy When It Was Boring - Gwayne H. x Targaryen!Reader

A/N: Hello I said I wasn’t writing but I did anyways bc @wicked-barbie inspired me now back to reposting on ao3, also the title is song lyrics from the police - darkness

Rating: Explicit

WC: 2.4k

Tags: PWP, 80’s corporate vacay, ARUBA!, I do get in the weeds about the au, Rhaenyra’s sister!Reader, Aemma lives, background Rhaenicent, bisexual Gwayne, I physically cannot go without mentioning Criston, dirty talk, oral m!receiving, f!masturbation, Otto argues w daemon while reading fiscal reports by the pool, Gwayne’s mannerisms are so very important to me

The soft din of breakfast being served drew you out of your thoughts. You scanned the room, seeing your sickly father— your mother rubbing his shoulders, a furrow between her brows. You were nineteen, Rhaenyra twenty-two, and set to inherit the family company. Aemma couldn’t have children anymore and now your father had cancer. Things needed to be tidied up considering her gender. Idiotic but whatever, she was intelligent and driven, you idolized your sister.

She was being courted around by the Velaryon shipping heir— you had a feeling she’d found a loophole. Your sister in a sarong, Alicent on her arm passed by, heading down to the pool to have breakfast, sparing no glance your way. You’d noticed Laenor certainly spent more time looking at men himself. A match was a match.

It was summer in the Northern Hemisphere. When the annual holiday to some destination most people couldn’t afford occurred. A neat bow for a two-week chance of expanding business. You went along for the ride, as was your duty.

This year it was Aruba. The Hotel Americana, sitting on lovely Palm Beach. You’d read about it in the Times. ‘Those who wish for familiar hotels with many resort amenities, nightlife, shopping, and gambling will like the scale and variety available.’

Hm. You had a feeling Otto was steering your father towards the economic boom of the United States right now. You went to University in Chicago, grateful for the warm weather. You were a bit shy and awkward, used to pubs and not clubs. Regardless, you liked the spa, courts, and the beach even if you looked like a ghost with that zinc-laden sunscreen your mother ‘offered’.

Not everyone had arrived yet. Uncle Daemon was to join with Laena, scandalously young, but she was strong and mature. Much like the women were in your family. You forked some eggs into your mouth, frowning. Laena calmed him, but he was certainly…chaotic. Daemon and Otto’s arguments were highly entertaining at the least.

Alicent was excited her brother was coming.

Gwayne Hightower was the enigmatic heir, a wildcard by all accounts, but he kept family ties. As a Targaryen looking in, it was expected of him to be ingratiated into the international conglomerate. Alicent was best friends with your sister, she knew all of you and held you as a baby.

The younger brothers who weren’t shucked off overseas in boarding school had their divisions to run and oversee. Where a Targaryen loomed, a Hightower stood in the shadow, pulling the strings, combing the pieces. Except Gwayne. He took off and moved to the States, you’d seen him in magazines.

“A male model, pah! He’s running from his birthright, he’ll learn once he arrives,” you heard Otto scoff to your father over breakfast, tossing a magazine out of his sight. You fiddled with your food, purple eyes peering out the large windows, scanning the bay.

You wondered if Otto held some hope for him. Alicent seemed to be doing just fine in his stead. Yet the idea of Rhaenyra becoming CEO ruffled feathers. Women in business…you certainly didn’t want it.

You thought about Gwayne again. He was handsome. Haughty, yet smiley with who he liked, a gleam in his eye like he held a secret, pretty teeth, and fine features. You were such an ugly duckling the last time you saw him. Baby fat, braces, pigtails. Horrid.

“You must be the other one,” he had laughed at some corporate dinner, earning some giggles and smiles. You smiled until you were alone and cried, watching your sister gleam, a shining star you wished to be.

The other one.

Perhaps you weren't too keen to see him again. Probably would bring a fellow model to strut around the beach with. Probably had a dumb smirk on his face, just like Criston used to. Probably would take a look at you and scoff about growing up and filling out.

You realized you were white-knuckling your utensil and carefully released your grip. You sighed, standing up to get dressed for the day, nodding at your parents.

It was always a flurry of neurotic dressing, comparing yourself to the willowy frame of Alicent and the athletic build of Nyra. Your therapist told you to dress how you wanted, not what you thought people expected. It was the age of athletic, leggy bodies— and you qualified for what felt like neither. Even if you played good field hockey back in school.

It’s not as if you were turned down often, but a bad relationship or harsh word left you insecure now and then.

“Curves, curves are pretty,” you muttered, tying on the top, a neon string bikini— one you'd bought on a whim shopping with your sister before the trip. The bottoms were cut high too, so you wrapped up in a big fishing shirt and slithered downstairs to hit the beach, a towel in one arm, a bag slung off your shoulder.

You walked out of the elevator, a clipped and haughty voice interrupting. They called, “Rhaenyra?”

You frowned. Not Rhaenyra. You turned to see the offender, lips set in a pout. Shock morphed your face. Gwayne Hightower, dressed in designer, his reddish hair all slicked and handsome, smug as you remembered. You blanched, blinking. Recognition flit over his blue eyes— a Cheshire smile upon his lips.

“Oh my, all grown up aren't you?”

He grinned, moving, holding you up as you tried to pass with a polite smile.

“Don’t you want to help a dear Hightower out?” He teased, followed by scoffing laughter. His bright eyes nonchalantly flicked to your face, then down to your tits and back. You would be lying if it didn’t feel good. You wanted him to look at you like that deep down.

What did you want?

You are supposed to be pissed off.

“I’m sure Otto has a whole itinerary for you, Gwayne,” you said coolly.

He shrugged, smiling to hide irritation, “I’m sure he does. I’ll see you on the beach, such a swan now aren’t you, no?”

You scowled, turning on your foot. He remembered the comment, the bastard had read your mind about the ugly duckling. You’d relax by the water and try to forget about his smug face, sharp cheeks, gorgeous blue eyes, and dark lashes- no!

“Fuck!” You hissed, scaring some old couple, ducking your head under your hat.

You’d been dozing under an umbrella, startled as the familiar voice of Gwayne disrupted your peace. He looked annoyed, a dismal look in his eye. The way his mouth pulled down reminded you of Otto and Alicent. You pushed back your hat, looking over at Gwayne lighting a cigarette in the adjacent lounger.

“Hello to you too, I take it you had a warm welcome?”

He scoffed, shrugging, “Oh, it’s always warm when Otto Hightower is in the room. Of course not, he wants me in the business, I want to live my life.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke, staring at the sand.

You mulled over his words, replying, “You could step down.”

“No. I’ll get there on my own time, I listen enough to not get routed immediately. I certainly didn’t come to this island to pour over reports,” he bit out, puffing again.

You hummed, knowing what he wanted. Gambling, girls, glamor. Flowing booze and powder. You saw the appeal, somewhat. Aspects. Perhaps you wanted to be the girl. You looked back at the waves in the distance, sighing, “Then why don’t you go and schmooze up over by the bar and beach volleyball, you’ll find Laenor down there.”

“Laenor,” he snorted, “Yes, playing slap ass I’m sure. He’s a fun time, I’ll admit.”

You pulled down your glasses. No man around you had ever uttered such things aloud. Gwayne laughed, grinning, eyes crinkling. He hummed, “You’re still so naive you know that? You’re a pretty little swan yet hiding out all alone. Men fuck men, it’s real and it’s quite pleasurable, darling.”

You fumed a little, he was tearing you to shreds with his mouth, and tossing the bits around with his hungry gaze. You sat up, glaring, blonde hair cascading down your shoulders. Your manicured nail jabbed at his Ralph Lauren-clad chest, soft voice growing sharp.

“You think you’re going to just waltz in and know everything? Tell me why you’re over here talking about fucking Laenor Velaryon with the spare daughter and not going to ‘enjoy yourself’ or whatever you said. Probably snorting and drinking up the nightclub and blowing your money on rummy. Trust me, I know the type, they just aren’t so blatantly ignorant!”

His smug smile dropped, eyes wide. The man looked chastised. Now you felt bad, frowning. You sighed, rubbing your forehead. Gwayne said nothing, looking to the side, and ashing out his cigarette. You apologized, gathering your scurried emotions.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s not easy, all of this,” you gestured vaguely.

He replied quietly, “I was being an ass to you, you had every right.”

A beat of silence enveloped the air.

“You don’t have anyone else out of the circle to go to do you, Gwayne?”

He nodded- that grim look upon his face. You wanted it to go away. You didn’t like upsetting people. Rarely did you speak so candidly. Granted, he was an ass but you hated this tension. You wracked your mind for a quick solution.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?” You asked.

“W-what?” He spluttered, blue eyes going comically wide, spine stiffening.

You flushed, groaning at your inability to smooth things over. That was stupid. You should talk to your therapist about this. Thank God your mother let you pursue your career. You tried to speak, but your mouth was growing wet thinking about it. Sucking him off. The fucker hadn’t left your mind.

He cut you off, leaning in, voice husky, “So you're not that sweet little swan everyone thinks you are, hm? Using that pretty mouth, dating bad, bad guys like me. What else are you hiding?”

You whimpered, feeling exposed, the redhead looking around before gripping your waist and pulling you onto his lean thighs. He grinned again, eyes lidded as he watched your expression. Gwayne cooed, “Acting so shy, I thought you wanted to suck my cock baby?”

“I- I do, I just- I said it too soon. I was going to say I was holding resentments from the past against you and I'm sorry again for insulting you. Something is wrong with me? I think you're very, very attractive,” you rambled nervously.

He laughed lowly, stroking your hips and flanks, hands gentler than you expected. The heir nosed under your jaw, humming, “You’re so soft, God, you feel good.” He inhaled deeply, cock swelling and twitching underneath your weeping cunt, separated by thin swimwear.

“I should just sit out by the waves and take you apart, pretty girl, you want it, don’t you? As an apology, yes.”

You whimpered again, nodding, hands sliding his button up off his shoulders, ogling fair skin and a body he put work into. He wasn’t one of those overbuilt types you disliked. Gwayne grabbed the back of your head, meeting his lips with yours, slow and sensual, humming languidly.

Your left hand wrapped into copper locks, the other skimming his chest, a playful thumb sliding over his nipple. His breath hitched before laughing, “Cheeky.”

You resumed kissing him, growing eager, arching into his body, your hand sliding down to grip his cock, moaning softly. Gwayne’s tongue slipped into your mouth, your jaw widening some for better access, tongues gently rubbing on each push and pull. Your heart was thumping, Gwayne groaning as you squeezed his prick.

“I want it, let me let me,” you pled, lips swollen and hair mussed. Gwayne nodded breathlessly, hand on your cheek, the other grabbing a towel as he murmured, “For your knees at least.”

“There’s those manners,” you smiled, purple eyes flicking upward.

Pop. Gasp.

He snickered as your hands went up to cover your exposed tits. Yet not a soul was around and he was stroking his full prick through his swim shorts, handsome face flushed and smirking down at you. You slapped his outer thigh, huffing, “Just couldn’t take the compliment.”

He hummed lazily, “Mm- I just wanted the whole view, those tits and lips.”

Your lashes fluttered, cunt throbbing at his raspy tone. “Mhm, yes, you’ll get it all,” you murmured, easing down the shorts below his balls, Gwayne grunting in relief. Your eyes peered up at him, tying your thick silver hair up. He wrapped his hand around your ponytail, eyes studying you silently.

With a soft inhale, you lapped up the length of his cock, a hand on the tip, the other cupping his sack. You moaned along with him as you wet him nice and good, drooling on his flushed tip, pulling the skin back some. His head fell back with a sharp grunt, gasping your name as your lips enveloped the ruddy tip. You squirmed, thighs rubbing together as you began to bob your head.

His calloused hand got a handful of your breast, pinching and pulling at your nipple. You whimpered, sending vibrations down the length of him as he panted, thighs spreading. Gwayne murmured, hoarse, “Fuck, sweetheart, fuck, you’re going to make this end too fast. I’ll- oh god!” His hand wrenched into your hair as you circled your tongue around the tip of his cock, playfully flicking the salty pre oozing from the slit.

Gwayne tried again, snapping to get your eyes on him.

“I- I said I’ll make you see stars this week. Play with your pretty pussy until you cry, hm? W-want that? Do you want that baby? I’ll do it, I’ll fuck you good and hard, eat your cunt whenever fucking hell,” his sultry rasp peeled off into an anguished moan, throat bobbing as his cock pulsed and twitched.

He was growing close and you whimpered like a bitch in heat for it. Your fingers slid down to your aching clit as you suckled harder, rubbing in tandem, the soft whines and hums bringing Gwayne closer.

His blue eyes were shut tight as he babbled, “Close baby, so close, keep touching yourself for me, mmmfuck.”

Your amethyst eyes met his blue ones, debauched and messy— clumped lashes, mussed hair, your lips stretched tight. He blew with a long groan, gripping your hair again. You swallowed it down, gagging a little as he fucked into your throat in stuttering movements.

You pulled off, wiping your mouth, gasping for breath. Gwayne grabbed you with no qualms, grinning between his heavy breaths.

“Oh sweetheart, you didn’t come did you?”

[koji-haru]

Preoccupations

[Merry Christmas @inubaki!! I hope you'll like your gift!! ❤️]

The design they had for the first human had always been beautiful; smooth, perfect skin blessed by the richness of the sun, warm, brown messy locks that looked temptingly soft to the touch, beautifully long and tall. But as soon as the first human took his first breath and saw the world for the first time through eyes of pure gold, more precious than any treasure in the universe, Lucifer knew then that his heart yearned for this perfect being. Everything about this human was simply perfect. The way his eyes were wide with pure innocence and wonder, ever so curious of the new life that surrounded him. How his smile was so sweet Lucifer could feel the rush within his being. And when he finally spoke? A voice more heavenly than all of Heaven’s choir combined. Yes, the first human was perfect as if made only for Lucifer, and Lucifer made for him. 

“Welcome to the garden of Eden, Adam the first man,” greeted Sera.

Adam. Even his name sounded like music to Lucifer’s ears, the perfect melody to his lyrics. And when their eyes met, rosy reds and silken gold, it was as if time had stopped and nothing existed in the universe besides the two of them. Then he could feel his heart beat, his blood in a frenzied rush all over his system, and slowly the sounds of the birds chattering in the background, the whispers amongst the other angels, the whistling of the tall grasses all returned just as time returned to its normal flow. Back to the way things were, except somehow, the world seemed to glow even more beautifully whenever his eyes laid upon the sun.

—-

Another day, another search for a particularly evasive angel. At least the garden was beautiful; the twinkling songs of the gentle streams, the way the clear waters glistened under the golden sun, the warm breeze that flew refreshingly through his robes. Without a doubt, the place truly was paradise. So despite having to do such a menial and unnecessary task that really had nothing to do with him, Michael didn’t mind it so much. If anything, it was a good break from his daily routines. He was starting to suspect that Lucifer was doing these ‘hide and seek’ from Heaven just so he could force Michael to ‘go out and smell the flowers’ whatever that meant. He always went out, every single day he had to do a full patrol of the garden to ensure its safety and sometimes, even venture out to the world beyond the garden. Really, he felt that there was no–

Oomph! Caught off guard, Michael fell unceremoniously into the stream as something launched itself towards him, its arms wrapped tightly around him in an excited embrace. Looking up, he was met with the purest of smiles, eyes shining brighter than Eden’s sun.

“Luci! You’re–!” 

The smile on Adam’s face dropped and was immediately replaced with furrowed brows, slightly down turned lips and a slight tilt of the head as he sat up and pulled away from Michael. 

“You’re not Luci,” said Adam, a tinge of disappointment evident in his voice. 

“No, I’m not,” Michael confirmed, sitting up slightly. “I’m Michael.”

“Are you an angel too?” asked Adam as he eyed the six blue white wings sprawled out and drenched in the stream. “Lucifer has six of those too, except his are red and white.”

A small smile slowly began to adorn Michael’s face at the adorable sight in front of him. “Yes, I’m an angel too. Actually, I’m Lucifer’s brother.”

“Brother? What’s that?” Adam cocked his head to the side, the word new and unfamiliar to him. “Can I have one too?”

“It’s when, hmm…” Michael took a pause to carefully think of his answer. Did siblings work the same with humans? “Lucifer and I are brothers because we came from the same star. Similar to how wolves are brothers, or sisters, because they come from the same mother. And I can’t just give you one, Heaven will have to decide on that.”

“Oh,” was Adam’s short response as mulled over the new information he had just learned, trying to make sense of it. 

Then a set of curious eyes travelled from Michael’s wings towards his face as Adam leaned closer down, a feather light finger tracing the little gold stars that travelled across Michael’s cheeks down to a cheek, where he poked at it as if something was amiss. 

“Um…” Michael stilled on the spot, unaccustomed to such intimate contact.

“Then how come you have these on your face instead of the red ones that Luci has?” asked Adam as he poked at Michael’s cheek repeatedly. “The animals here look similar to their brothers and sisters.”

“Well, first please get off of me.”

The short distance between them accompanied by the fact that Adam was sitting on top of him was sending odd, messy signals into Michael’s brain, and he wasn’t sure what to do with it. It was unnerving to him how he didn’t mind at all this new, unfamiliar sensation. And so, with nervous, hesitant hands, he pulled Adam’s off of his face with one hand and used the other to gently push the human away from him so he could sit up. But just as he was about to finally sit up, the weight on him suddenly disappeared as a swift flurry of red and white  rushed past him, scooping Adam up and away. 

A gasp followed by soft giggles of, “Luci!” told Michael that Adam was fine and who the sudden visitor was. To his right was his brother, both arms tightly wrapped around the human, all six wings flared out and spread wide, a possessive lour sent his way which would swiftly turn into a melting gaze as soon as he laid eyes on Adam. 

Odd. Lucifer had never acted that way towards Michael before, all so defensively territorial. It wasn’t like he was any danger to Adam at all. Though, he did feel a pang of…something when he saw Adam sweetly laughing, so happy to be carefully wrapped by his brother’s embrace. The weight and warmth that was on top of him moments ago now suddenly felt like some sort of lost treasure, the pleasant presence far too distant for his current liking. It was all rather disconcerting to him, all these sudden influx of feelings. But then again, Adam’s skin against his felt rather…nice. Michael looked down at his hand, the sensation from earlier a ghostly kiss that he craved more of.

—-

“It’s a little unfair, don’t you think?” grumbled Lucifer as he sat close to Adam, trying to not-so-subtly disrupt the human’s work. 

“I told you before, Luci, your hair’s too short,” Adam tried to reason as he pushed away Lucifer’s meddling hand from the braids he was doing on Michael’s hair. 

On the other end, Michael was in bliss. He couldn’t visit the garden as often as Lucifer did, but whenever he did, Adam always showered him with affection. And while he hated the fact that Lucifer got to spend more time with Adam overall, it seemed that being busy and playing the exhausted card got him special treatment sometimes. In a way, it was almost worth it. Almost. If only his brother would stop trying to disrupt the precious time he did get to have with his human.

It took a while, a lot of wing pulling, setting one another on fire, and some discussion leading to a begrudging compromise before the two brothers could finally accept that they couldn’t keep the other from their beloved human. And as much as both of them would rather have Adam all to themselves, at the very least it was only the two of them who frequented the garden. Any other angel who dared showed interest in the garden was either suddenly given a new role or duty by Michael, where sometimes they ‘take too long’ to complete their new duties; or simply scared away by Lucifer, never to be seen again. 

Lucifer managed to slip hand between Adam’s hands and grabbed onto a golden lock of Michael’s hair, harshly pulling on it. 

“Ow!” cried out Michael, one hand reaching out to stop Lucifer’s petty assault. “Let go!” “No!” Lucifer adamantly refused. They had spent most of the day with Michael being so snug to Adam, with Lucifer feeling like some sort of third party. He should be one snuggling so comfortably on Adam’s lap! Not Michael, but him! He was first after all!

“Lucifer, don’t be mean!” Adam tried to calm the angry angel, but soon resorted to gently cupping Lucifer’s face when words didn’t seem enough. His soft golden eyes looking directly at Lucifer’s own quickly calmed down the fire in the small angel’s eyes.  “Calm down, okay?”

A huff and pout. No matter how annoyed he got, Lucifer could never truly say no to his human. But that didn’t mean he was going to give up and end up empty handed. So, he did as Adam asked and let go of Michael's hair and instead took hold of Adam’s face, pulling the human into a soft, chaste kiss. A little compensation for having been disregarded. 

The lovely red that quickly blossomed on Adam’s cheeks was worth the icy glare that he felt piercing through his body from Michael. He was sure things were going to end up difficult for him once he returned home to Heaven, but that was definitely worth the price for Adam’s first kiss. 

—-

Adam sat quietly by the river, kicking little splashes of water everywhere as he tried hard to keep his spirits up. All he needed was patience. Surely Karael would arrive soon. Though, he had been waiting for a long time now. Adam and his new angel friend were supposed to meet by the river just before the sun reaches its highest point in the sky, and yet, the sun had already begun its journey down towards the horizon and still, Karael could not be found. The angel seemed so excited as well to spend time with him. Maybe Adam had gone to the wrong place again? 

“Adam?” 

A familiar voice called out to him, and when he turned, he was greeted with a familiar kind face, speckled with little gold stars. One of the few friends he had that actually remained.

“Hi Michael…” Adam waved a little sadly at the angel, his shoulders drooped down with increasing disappointment. 

“What’s the matter?” asked Michael as he sat close to Adam, one hand wrapped around the human’s shoulder, pulling him close. 

A disheartened sigh escaped Adam’s lips, “Karael hasn’t showed up yet. She promised to show me something today…”

This always happened. Whenever he made new friends, they would always suddenly leave him without another word, gone forever without a trace. They wouldn’t even say goodbye. Adam felt the tears prickle his eyes as he lost more and more hope in meeting his new friend. He didn’t understand why almost everyone seemed to just disappear on him. Had he done something wrong? Both Michael and Lucifer always reassured him that he never did anything wrong, but that only left him more confused. Did the other angels just not like him? 

“Maybe she’ll arrive soon enough,” Michael tried to reassure despite knowing full well that that wasn’t the case. No other angel was allowed to get their unworthy hands on their precious human. 

“I don’t know…” Adam quietly admitted. 

“Adaaaam!”

Suddenly a pair of arms covered in loose robes enveloped itself around Adam’s shoulders just as a pale face with rosy red cheeks popped up brightly to the human’s left side. 

“How’s my cute duckie doing?” Lucifer asked as he rubbed his cheek against Adam’s.

Out of the corner of his eye, Michael the residual golden stains on Lucifer’s robes. How sloppy. As adorable as Adam’s curious nature was, there was no need for him to see and question the odd splash of gold on Lucifer’s robes. And so, with a silent snap of his fingers, he burned away the damning evidence that clung onto his brother.

“Much better now,” answered Adam, a little smile beginning to form on his lips. 

“Much better now? Why? What happened?” 

“Karael hasn’t showed up yet,” Michael said with a shrug.

Lucifer slid down from Adam’s shoulder until he was lazily draped over the human’s lap. “Ah, who cares about her anyway? It’s her loss! You’re too good for her.”

“I agree,” Michael added with a nod as he snuggled even closer towards Adam. “She doesn’t deserve you.”

A blossom of red began to stain Adam’s cheeks at the words from both brothers as a fuzzy fluttering had once again started to go wild from his stomach as if pink butterflies were about to burst out of him. He wasn’t sure why, but it always happened whenever either Lucifer or Michael were close to him, like right now. It was an odd feeling, somewhat akin to nervousness, but better and much more pleasant. Either way, the day might not have begun so happily for Adam, but at the very least both Lucifer and Michael were always there to cheer him up and brighten his day. He felt so incredibly lucky to have the two as friends who cared deeply for him. 

The sky was a bright orange and the night was fast approaching as the sun began to sink in the horizon. In the past, Sera would’ve been a little worried about both Lucifer’s and Michael’s prolonged absence from Heaven. However, at this point, she already knew where the two could possibly be. The place where they spent most of their free time: the garden of Eden. 

As usual, Sera was correct in assumption as she stood over the trio sleeping on grass with Adam in the middle wrapped between the two brothers, encased in both of their wings. Sera did find it odd at the start, and honestly, she still did until now. But no matter how much she questioned and tried to reason with the brothers, both remained adamant about staying in the garden. And really, there was only so much she could do. A tired sigh escaped from her. She supposed Adam could use a friend or two, at least until they finished making the first woman. For now, she would leave the odd trio be. There was no harm to it after all. 

—--

It had been quite some time since Lucifer had smelled air that wasn’t stagnant and pungent, one that wasn’t devoid of life and joy. The cool breeze that ran fast through his silken locks had never felt more freeing as he climbed atop a fluffy cloud to sit beside his brother. It felt odd to him, to feel warmth. Warmth, not scorching, burning heat from beyond the deepest depths of the earth. It was a gentle warmth, a tender kiss from the sun so high up in the sky, so close to the place he used to call home. 

“I’m still in disbelief at what you did,” Michael said as he moved a little to make some space beside him, his eyes still glued attentively at the young, new world beneath them.

“Well, what else could I have done?” Lucifer retorted as he took the spot on the cloud offered to him, his eyes also beginning to scan the earth for a certain someone. “Besides, it’s not like you were entirely against it.”

Michael let out a weary sigh, unable to fully deny his brother’s implications. “Couldn’t you have done the same to Eve as I did with Lilith?”

“You do know Eve, right? That woman could not be persuaded to abandon her purpose,” Lucifer scoffed before his shoulders dropped low, weighed down by a sudden gloom, his ruby eyes in pained yearning as he found the person he was looking for.

Beneath the two brothers, far down below from the lofty clouds, was the beginnings of a small village. New humans that Lucifer had never seen before, though each one had an odd air of familiarity to them, whether it was the colour of their skin, the shades of their hair, or the shine in their eyes. Each one of these new, unfamiliar humans had a little piece of their beloved Adam embedded in them, one that Lucifer had been denied of by Heaven. And amongst the slowly growing crowd, was a tall man with skin marred by untold hardships, flesh grown stronger from endless necessary work, lines amongst his face that held stories of the past. But despite all these changes, those eyes remained ever the same: a gold more radiant than the sun, far more precious than any treasure that could ever be found in all of Heaven, Hell or Earth. 

“Why did Adam have to leave the garden too?” sighed Lucifer, his heart breaking at the sight beneath him: his beloved having a life of which he had no part in. Suddenly, a thought popped up in his head. Was it a little sinister? Something an angel should never think of? Perhaps. But Lucifer supposed that didn’t matter to him anymore. He was no longer an angel after all. 

“They’re mortal, right?”

“..yes?” Michael eyed Lucifer suspiciously, though he was willing to hear him out. “Why are you asking?”

“And they no longer have the protection they had in Eden, right?” Lucifer continued.

“Lucifer, I'm not killing Adam just so he could come to either of us quicker,” Michael said resolutely. 

“What? No! Not Adam!” Lucifer refuted absolutely, eyes widened in shock that his brother would even think of that. “I meant Eve! Eve!!”

A contemplative look washed over Michael’s features as he mulled over Lucifer’s suggestion. As an angel, he couldn’t directly intervene with human affairs nor could he communicate with them personally ever since the incident in the garden. Lucifer, however, no longer had obligations to Heaven, though he had been cursed to remain in Hell for the rest of his eternal life. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t loosen those chains a little once in a while. 

“Hm, Earth is quite a harsh place. Not very safe for fragile, mortal humans,” Michael mused loudly. “An unfortunate accident or a lethal animal attack is bound to happen soon.”

Michael gave Lucifer a calm look redolent of malignant mischief. “I heard some snakes are venomous…and deadly.”

“Really now?” Lucifer queried, his tone in playful high pitches. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind~.”

—-

“Is he dead yet?” Lucifer asked as he lazily laid on the cloud, his head barely on the edge. 

Sitting beside him, was as usual, Michael, his expression impassive and unreadable as he observed the now large and steadily growing human village.

“Unfortunately not.”

Lucifer let out a loud groan, stretching all of his limbs before letting them fall limply to his sides. “Eve died a long time ago, and it’s almost been a millennia since he had left the garden.”

He rolled over so that he was now laying on his stomach, his side flush against Michael, before suddenly sprouting up, voicing his anxiety aloud. 

“Are you sure he’s mortal? He didn’t eat the fruit, what if? Oh, no! What if–!” he gasped dramatically, one hand over his mouth, the other grasping onto Michael as he shook him urgently. “Michael! Go get your sword, we’re taking matters into our own hands!”

“Lucifer calm down,” Michael calmly reassured his brother as he tried to pry Lucifer’s claws off of his arm. Though, after realising that words were not enough to calm his brother down, Michael then opted to simply grab Lucifer’s face and forcefully tilted it down towards a particular spot in the village. 

“Look carefully,” he said, “Do you see Adam?”

With his face squished and held onto place, Lucifer had no choice but to focus his eyes towards the direction he had been turned to. He squinted and squinted, readjusting his eyesight to see more clearly until finally, it landed on a frail figure with ashen hair, sun-kissed skin marked full of a lifetime of adventures, and surrounded by a loving crowd. If it were anyone else, they might have not recognised him, but Lucifer could never ever forget the eyes of the one that stole his heart. No matter how much time had passed, those eyes remained forever the same. Sure, they looked far more hardened than the first time he had seen them, the golden glow in them a little more jaded, but it still belonged to the first man. Their precious Adam. 

Taking Lucifer’s silence as affirmation, Michael let go of his hold on Lucifer, letting him hang in a trance. “Don’t worry, Adam’s not immortal. He’s aging, and I’m sure he’ll be truly home soon. Just give it some time.”

“Ooor we can speed up the process,” Lucifer jokingly suggested, but also was half serious. Surely Adam wouldn’t mind it so much if they freed him from his feeble shell sooner than time would. 

“That would be nice, but no,” Michael shut down Lucifer’s suggestion, knowing fully well that his brother would act on it if he so much as gave a hint of approval. “We’ll play it safe this time. He’ll come to us eventually. He has to.”

—-

Lucifer sat stupefied in the embassy at the sight in front of him, an odd concoction of awe, incredulity and indignation slowly simmering within him. Sitting right across from him was none other than the love of his unending existence, his Adam in all of his golden beauty. It seemed that the afterlife had returned his youthful appearance, one that was strikingly similar to the look he had back in the garden. But that wasn’t what truly captured his full attention. He didn’t know it was possible, and yet the proof sat so casually in front of him. Somehow, his human had become even more beautiful, going beyond perfection. The way the soft golden glow of his halo illuminated his face like a loving caress, those pair of shimmering gold wings so large that they easily reached the ground, those loose white, lilac and gold robes that hid his form so teasingly; just the thought of being the privileged one to unravel it like a gift and see the perfection hidden beneath it sent pleasant shivers down Lucifer’s spine. It had been an eternity since he felt such sublimity, and he had only been close to Adam’s presence. He could only imagine…

Another important matter, however, caught his attention. His human was now an angel, and that meant that his angel now resided in Heaven. That was a problem. Another glaring problem was the fact that his brother, Michael, was very comfortably snuggling against his angel! 

“How long have you been in Heaven?!” Lucifer let out an anguished cry as he stood up, slamming both hands on the long table separating him from the two angels. 

“Hmm, when did I first arrive in Heaven again?” Adam wondered aloud, his chin rested atop of Michael’s soft golden locks. 

“I’d say, maybe, a few months ago?” Michael answered, a curled finger resting against his lips in thought. 

The sound of Adam’s angelic voice would’ve sent Lucifer in catatonia with how velvety sweet it felt in his ears if it weren’t for that fact that he had just found out that Adam had died and gone to Heaven months ago, and he had no knowledge of it the entire time. 

Blood red horns pointing to the sky sprouted from his skull, a raging fire in between them, his spiked tail swishing impatiently behind him as his anger slowly reached its boiling point. The sight of both his Adam and Michael being so close to each other in front of him not helping to calm him down. A void like shadow loomed before him, gradually increasing in both size and intensity the more he leaned forward, directing an aggrieved glare towards his brother. 

“All this time! You had Adam all to yourself?!” shouted Lucifer, the fire between his horns flaring up with every intonation. “How is that fair?!”

On the other hand, Michael seemed unaffected by Lucifer’s display of fiery rage, one hand reaching up to gently pat Adam’s head in reassurance. He knew his brother could be rather emotional, especially when it came to the first man. Other than that, he was harmless, at least to both him and Adam. 

“Adam had to first learn how to be an angel, and setting a meeting with you including Adam took far too long to be approved,” Michael explained.

“Clearly! You were hogging all of Adam’s time!” Lucifer argued, his legs bent and ready to spring towards his target. 

Michael wouldn’t admit it to Lucifer’s face lest he make the aggrieved Devil explode even more in anger, but he did enjoy having most of Adam’s time and attention during those first few months. There were some nuisances he had to get rid of by way of gentle reminders of their positions and capabilities, but it worked out in the end. For the most part, he managed to assign himself as Adam’s teacher and guide in Heaven, with most other angels having learned to keep their distance away. 

“We arranged a meeting as soon as possible,” Michael assured, though it was a little white lie. While Adam had expressed wishes to meet Lucifer as soon as possible, Michael secretly hoped to prolong their shared time together. “Isn’t that right, Adam?”

A faint golden hue dusted Adam’s cheeks once both sets of eyes, one a deep ocean blue, the other passionate ruby red, landed and focused on him with an intensity that sent his heart in panicked beats. He wasn’t sure what he did, but ever since he arrived in Heaven Michael had been attached to him almost everywhere he went. The archangel’s gaze was always an ocean that he found himself lost and drowning in with its intense waves of affection. Despite the months he had spent so closely with Michael, he still hadn’t gotten fully used to it, and now, Lucifer himself was also giving him a similar look. A passion burning wildly in those fiery reds, a hungry heat promising both sweetness and spice. In a way, it was almost predatory, and yet, Adam couldn’t find it within himself to run and escape, instead, he was drawn to it. 

“I– uh,” Adam stammered, those red eyes sending an odd tingly feeling all over his body. He moved his gaze randomly towards the smooth table, a feeble attempt to escape that fervent gaze. “We did try to meet you as soon as possible…”

Adam felt a slight nudge from Michael, encouraging him to go on. “...because I missed you too, Luci.”

Luci. Luci. That nickname hadn’t been uttered in almost a millennia, and just the sound of it being pronounced by none other than his sweet angel sent the flame burning within Lucifer into a raging blaze. The intensity of the flames between his horns burned even brighter, all of his six red-white wings spread out wide in ardent excitement. Then, without another word, Lucifer released the tension that had been building up inside of him all this time and sprung onto Adam, colliding against Michael. The collision hadn’t phased him, however, as he simply shoved his brother out of his way and wrapped his arms tightly around Adam, nestling his head in the space just between Adam’s chin and chest. Oh how he missed his beloved’s scent, that refreshing earthy scent. And that warmth, the coziest he had ever felt, one that told him he was home.

—-

“Michael, what’s the meaning of this?!” Sera demanded, slamming a scroll down onto Michael’s desk as she tried her best to the anger that was starting to spill out of her. 

Slapped onto Michael’s desk was a golden scroll, one used by Heaven for official contracts and deals. Once signed, it was unbreakable lest they face unwanted and unfavourable consequences. This particular binding deal had only been recently signed, the parties involved included Lucifer, Adam, and Michael himself. 

“It was the best solution to keep Hell under control,” Michael coolly answered as he took the scroll into both his hands, one finger swiftly skimming over the details of their deal. 

“It says here that ‘Hell will not attempt any uprising against Heaven and will keep its citizens in check so long as their King, Lucifer, shall have his wishes granted, that is, the presence of the first man, Adam, in Hell for at least half the time of a year,” Michael read the important details of the deal aloud as if to make Sera understand carefully. 

“I know what the scroll says, Michael,” Sera said sternly. “What I’m asking about is the nature of the deal.”

Michael took a quick glance back down on the scroll and then back to Sera, a quizzical look on his face. “I don’t see a problem?” 

An exasperated sigh, bordering on a loud groan, left Sera’s lips as she leaned back, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. Lucifer threatening to come crashing on Heaven’s gates was enough stress and trouble for her to handle, and now Michael had gone and made a deal with the Devil without her explicit consent? Yes, she allowed meetings between him, Lucifer and Adam in hopes that those talks would help calm Lucifer down, knowing the deep relations both Adam and Michael had with him. What she hadn’t expected was…this. And worse yet, Michael seemed to find no fault in this? 

“You need to calm down, Sera,” Michael said, leaning back on his chair, the calm air that surrounded him only served to further irritate the high seraphim. “And look at this at a more logical angle.” 

“Calm down? How can I be calm when you’ve simply signed Adam away to the Devil?!” Sera asked in irate disbelief, her wings beginning to flare up in slowly bubbling anger.

“Just for half the year. Like I said, please look at this situation more logically,” Michael explained again. “This deal would ensure peace between Heaven and Hell.”

“But Adam–”

“Will not be harmed by Lucifer, I can assure you that,” Michael cut in. “Adam will be safe. Plus, he was actually very much in agreement with the deal.”

That seemed to have put a sudden halt to Sera’s enraged panic, all of her wings slowly losing their fervor as they began to lower, the furrow of her brows starting to soften as her expression slowly changed into a more composed albeit confused one. 

“What?”

“Adam was very much in favour of the deal. He’s good friends with Lucifer,” Michael repeated and clarified with a soft smile, blue eyes looking kind and stern at the same time, a silent declaration that he had made up his mind and that there was no changing it no matter what. 

At that point, Sera knew then that there was no arguing against Michael. It wasn’t an occurrence that happened a lot, most of the time Michael was rather accommodating to her opinions and thoughts on a variety of matters. However, when it came to matters regarding the first man, then Michael could suddenly become particularly stubborn and a little autocratic. It was something that had been concerning her since the garden, only now did she realise, when it was too late, that his fixation with Adam might run just as deeply as Lucifer’s. And that thought alone sent icy shivers down her spine. Lucifer on his own was trouble enough, having the two of them go rogue would simply spell trouble for Heaven, something Sera would rather avoid. She took another glance at the golden scroll laid flat on the desk, the feeling of defeat weighed heavy on her shoulders. As much as worry clung tightly onto her core, Sera couldn’t recall a time when Michael had brought harm to either Heaven or humanity. Simply put, she just had to trust the archangel to not cross the line just like his brother did.

Without much of a choice, Sera reluctantly accepted the deal that Michael had already made with Lucifer and Hell. There were so many questions swirling in her mind, like how could Adam be so willing to this deal? How was Lucifer good friends with Adam? Hadn’t they been separated for over 900 years? So many questions, and yet, she couldn’t ask any of them in favour of ‘keeping the peace’.

“Well?” Michael asked, his head tilted slightly to the side.

“Please, next time let me know of the details first before you go deciding things on your own,” Sera replied, her tone exhausted and drained beyond measure. 

“Noted.”

—-

Flashes of lights in varying colours danced in the dark red wallpaper of the castle. On the plush black couch, Lucifer sat comfortably on Adam’s lap, snuggling his face in the nook of his angel’s neck, enjoying the mesmerising scent that he had dearly missed. Adam, on the other hand, was focused on watching the movie playing on the wide screen in front of them, one hand occasionally dipping into the popcorn bucket on his side. In the comforting darkness of the living room, the world outside, the burning landscape, the screams of damned sinners hurling violence against one another, felt so separate as if both Adam and Lucifer were separate and away from the chaotic mess that was Hell. 

Then, suddenly, a bright blue light shimmered into the room as a familiar pale figure casually emerged from it, causing Adam to briefly shift his gaze from the tv screen towards their new guest. Lucifer, on the other hand, was unfazed by the portal suddenly opening up in his castle, already used to its almost constant appearance. 

“Oh! Hey Michael!” Adam lazily waved his butter covered hands over, gesturing the archangel to come over and sit by his side as he moved the popcorn bucket away. 

“Hi Adam, what are you watching?” asked Michael as he walked over to his angel’s side, opting to instead shove Lucifer a little to make some more space on Adam’s lap. 

A whiny groan sounded in the room as Lucifer fought against being shoved by Michael, his pointed teeth biting into the hand that was pushing him aside. Michael, however, was unfazed by this ‘act of violence’, a small smile painted on his face as he kept on shoving his brother and made a comfortable enough space for himself on his angel’s lap.

“Ugh, why do you always have to budge in?” Lucifer groaned aloud, clearly peeved about having to share his Adam. 

“Because sharing is caring, dear brother,” Michael answered back. 

“I’m the Devil, I don’t care,” retorted Lucifer, sticking out his tongue childishly as he tried to push Michael away. 

Suddenly, the two brothers were pushed close together as Adam wrapped both arms around them, pulling the both of them even closer to him. 

“Both of you hush,” Adam lightly scolded as he hugged them even tighter, both of their faces now flush against his chest. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”

A victorious smirk formed on Adam’s lips at the silence that answered him, knowing fully well how such intimate actions affected both brothers no matter how much time had passed. He could practically feel the raging heat on both of their faces through his clothes. 

“If you both can promise to behave throughout the rest of the movie,” Adam started, “then I’ll be sure to reward you both handsomely~”

The two seated on his lap perked up noticeably at the notion of being rewarded, both suddenly becoming far more amiable and compliant to one another. Was Adam going to regret having dangled a shiny reward in front of the two? Perhaps. But he had offered rewards multiple times before, his back regretting it the morning after most of the time. Still, that hadn’t and wouldn’t ever stop him from offering some more. Good boys deserved to be rewarded after all.

[v3nusplanetofluv]

camp

i; fishbowls

｡･ﾟﾟ･atsumu x fem! reader

｡･ﾟﾟ･college and 90s au

description...

atsumu miya was the bane of your existence growing up. always making it his job to tease and taunt you daily. as time went on you detached yourself from the neighborhood kids, your frequent, unwanted presence merely becoming a thing of the past. however, the summer of '98 causes you and atsumu to face the past.

content!

2.1k words

"ma, when yer son comes home from college yer supposed to keep him in not kick him out!" atsumu groaned as his head fell onto the cold kitchen counter, "especially when i'm your favorite-"

"what-"

it was finally summer vacation, and all the miyas were back in their nest. the formerly eerily quiet kitchen was once again full of life; the sweet smell of vanilla filled the air as pancakes were flipped on the electric griddle; the bright sun warmed the table cloth that covered the glass dining table; and loud hearty accents were doubled in sound as the two boys were back.

"both of y'all are gettin' kicked out," the older woman places the now finished pancakes onto a plate. "it just so happens that samu listens to what I have ta say, and chooses where he wants ta go ahead of time."

the grey haired twin smiles up at his mom with a 'thanks' as she places a stack of pancakes in front of him. "i'm goin' to grandma and grandpa's farm ta help out at their cafe," he sticks his tongue out at atsumu making him roll his eyes.

"whatever," his arms crossed over his chest, "I don't like that stinky farm anyway." atsumu flinches as he feels his mom yank upon his ear in disapproval.

"good! ya won't have ta 'cause yer workin' at a summer camp!" mrs. miya smiles as atsumu's jaw practically reaches the depths of hell. "our neighbor suggested it--"

"which neighbor so i know whose lawn koda can piss on--OW!" mr.miya strikes the faux blond with his now rolled morning paper.

"language," the older man sits beside his son, coffee now in hand. "y/n's mother came up with that great idea--the girl's been working there since high school--ya remember her right?"

"yeah, i remember fishbowls--OW!" osamu was now on the receiving end of the sunday morning paper, the boy now reaching for his battered forehead. the action instantly stifled atsumu's laughs.

the faux blond covers his head, "ya want me to go work with that freak for the whole summer?" he asks through gritted teeth, actively guarding his head.

"y/n is a beautiful young lady who is doin' great things," mama miya points her spatula at the boys, "she's actually in school studyin' biology to become a doctor now!"

"oh, who would've thought that fishbowls was gonna be in a nerdy major?" atsumu comments, sarcasm dripping in his tone, making osamu snicker.

osamu sits up straight, "'do ya wanna come over and see my new experiment?" he mocks a nerdy accent as he pushes his fake glasses up the bridge of his nose making his brother burst at the seams in laughter.

"come on! y'all haven't seen the girl since she changed schools in middle school," the older miya says as he sips his coffee.

"yea cause she was always cooped up in her room readin' or some shit," atsumu mumbles as he messes with the pancakes in front of him.

"well, i guess this summer will be the perfect time ta give her a chance!" mama miya smiles as she brushes her hands off on her apron, ignoring his groans, "and ya better get packin' 'cause ya leave next week."

insane in the membrane by cyrprus hill blares through the stereo setup of the 1989 lexus is 400. osamu's sunglass rest upon his nose as he drives through rural hyogo, fingers tapping on the steering wheel to the beat. atsumu sits in the passenger seat mumbling along to the lyrics, hand resting outside of the window.

atsumu furrows his eyebrows as he looks over at his brother, "is it too late for me ta come ta the farm with ya?"

"...ya called it stinky--"

"but a whole summer--three months with fishbowls--sounds like i'll be slittin' ma wrist with a spoon," atsumu groans as he sinks further into his seat.

osamu chuckles as he glances over at the drama queen, "think positive! what if she's like hella fine now?"

the two look between each other before bursting out in laughs.

"i'll miss yer goofy ass this summer 'samu!" he says as he wipes a fake tear from his eye.

not even thirty minutes later the sight of tall trees completely consumed the car. the smell of marukawa bubble gum was replaced with fresh water and earthy cedar trees. the road got bumpy as atsumu poked his head out of the window, finally seeing the massive sign marking the entrance of the summer camp: ' firefly valley.'

as osamu slowed the car atsumu instantly started to scratch, "i think i'm allergic ta this place."

"they're called mosquitos--now get outta my car!"

"we won't see each other for almost three months and this is how you wanna say goodbye?" atsumu fakes a pout as he unbuckled his seatbelt making his twin roll his eyes. as osamu pulled his bag out of the car, atsumu looked up at the trees that never seemed to end; and down at the dirt that somehow already got onto his white sneakers.

the feeling of his duffle bag shoved into his chest grabbed atsumu's attention as he looked up to be met with the flash of osamu's digital camera. he sighs with a smile as he pulls the camera from his face, "man, grandma is gonna love this! might even hang it on the fridge." he snickers making atsumu glare but the frustrated feeling is instantly dropped as osamu pulls him into a hug.

"ya better not come back with headgear and a new love for readin'" he teases making atsumu laugh.

"no promises!" he says as he pulls away, "call me when ya get ta the farm."

"i will," osamu waves one final time as he gets into the car, driving off leaving atsumu at the camp. dirt kicks up from the wheels making the faux blond flinch back, unfortunately bumping into someone. he swiftly apologizes as he turns around but he's quickly dismissed as the man doesn't seem phased.

"ya must be atsumu miya," the man smiles, "welcome to camp! i'm kyo," he sticks his hand out and atsumu shakes it with a tight lipped smile. "follow me and i'll show ya the leader cabins and around camp along the way."

with wide eyes, atsumu looks around the camp in awe. even though he just moved to a bigger and busier city--tokyo--he hadn't realized how much he missed this. he was instantly transported back to his earlier summers spent at his grandparents' farm. the bright blue sky created a stunning gradient into the shimmering lake. the trees looked as if they could go on forever--as if they were reaching for the sun. the oh so familiar smell of sunblock attacked his nostrils as the smaller versions of his volleyball nets made a smile creep upon his face.

atsumu looked ahead at the sound of kyo's voice, directing him to his cabin that he would share with other leaders for the next three months. the faux blond thanked him as he rested his bags on the floor beside his bed. the brown-haired man was about to leave before he remembered something.

"make sure to stop by the main office to get yer shirts and badge--someone should be in there to help ya out!" and before atsumu could ask him where exactly the main office was, he was gone.

he sighed as he hooked his sunglasses onto the collar of his t-shirt,. atsumu made his way out of the cabin, looking around intently for any resemblance, or sign that could possibly lead him to his destination.

after about ten minutes of wandering around, the dark green and white building came into his view. one could tell it was old with the way the paint was chipping--the intense weathering it endured was evident.

he opened the screened door to be met with a welcomed blast of air conditioning, a content sigh left his lips as he looked around. the sound of a voice caught his attention leading him to follow it around a corner and into what looked like a waiting area.

the back of a spinny chair was what atsumu first saw. the back of an occupied spinny chair! a finger peeked out as it twirled the cord of the phone, looping and unlooping as you talked on the phone.

"yes, ms.tanaka i will personally make sure that hiro has easy access to his inhaler..." you smiled into the phone, adjusting in your seat completely unaware of the nearly drooling simpleton behind you.

he couldn't see you but he could just tell that you were hot. maybe it was the way he could imagine your perfectly manicured nails combing through his hair as you whispered sweet nothings in his ear with your heavenly voice or maybe he was simply deluded.

"of course, you know i've never let anything happen to hiro--i figure you'd want him back in one piece at the end of the summer...yes yes of course! it is my job," you laugh softly making atsumu's heart skip a beat, "feel free to call back if you have any more questions...alright, I can't wait to see hiro!...have a nice day , bye bye."

as you hang up the phone atsumu can barely contain his excitement as dozens of scenarios run through his mind of what he would say to you--a grin kept sneaking up his lips which he quickly pushed away to keep up his cool facade.

he quickly gets into position as he rests upon the desk, instantly grabbing your attention as he knocks down a pen holder. you whip your head around only to feel the wind get stuck within your throat.

it suddenly becomes hard to breathe as you're unable to say anything let alone move, and you think that you could use hiro's inhaler right about now. your horrified expression makes atsumu's heart drop as he quickly scrambles to pick up the mess he had made.

"h-hey it's alright, i can get it cleaned up real quick!" he awkwardly laughs in nervousness and embarrassment as he realizes he had just made a fool of himself in front of one of the prettiest girls he's ever seen. he tries to fight off the blush on his cheeks, and runs through excuses in his mind--the heat!

you finally manage to catch your breath and look up at him. the boy who made your adolescence a living hell. the man who is now invading one of your safe spaces.

"what do you want?" your tone is harsh, but not harsh enough in your opinion. however, the blond doesn't take much notice as he stares down at you with a goofy look on his face.

"atsumu miya," he sighs dreamily, "name please," he grins, completely oblivious to your look of disgust and the incoherency of his sentence. your eyebrow raises and confusion coats your face. you think he must not recognize you and it's a fair assumption considering you made it a mission to avoid the miyas and the other neighborhood kids once you hit puberty to preserve your sanity...and dignity--what was left of it.

on the other hand, it was as if you had no chance to erase his face from your memory. hell, the universe never gave you a chance to.

"look at the twins! they're committing to that powerhouse school!"

"did you see that atsumu's the best high school setter in japan?"

"can you believe that atsumu's ready been offered to join msby?"

"atsumu looks amazing in his media pictures for msby don't ya think?"

you allowed your expression to soften, "so...you don't know who I am?" you cross your arms over your chest, leaning onto the desk making the blond's hands grow sweaty.

"the girl of ma dreams," he bites down on his lip to hide his smile.

you deadpan before rolling your eyes making atsumu straighten up, "o-or i'd like ta get ta know...if ya let me." he suddenly feels bashful? something the faux blond is greatly unfamiliar with...maybe you were a witch.

you look him up and down, making his cheeks heat up all over again, "i think you'll freak when i tell you." you narrow your gaze at him, unknowingly feeding his supicsions.

in one of his boldest moves of the day, he leans down towards you, "try me," he smirks.

you look up at him through your lashes, quickly thinking of all of his possible reactions. your lips begin to twitch up into an almost wicked smile, "do ya really wanna know?" he you lean up closer towards him, making his heart rate increase.

"more than anythin'," he breathes out, tuning out the sound of his beating heart.

your gaze darkens, "does fishbowls ring a bell?" your sickening smile doesn't dare to falter as you watch atsumu flinch back in confusion, his face twisting into multiple emotions as he tries to process the sound of the cruel nickname leaving your lips.

he leans forward a bit to look at your face, looking for any features that may have resembled his insanely nerdy neighbor.

"...y/n?"

"in the flesh."

notes !

☆ mr. and mrs. miya adore y/n. they have always admired her manners and academic ambition. that led to them always urging the twins to hang out with her and also partially ignited their disdain toward the girl.

☆ y/n never picked up the hyogo accent even though she lived there her whole life. immersion wasn't enough as her parents didn't speak the dialect either. this further isolated y/n from the neighborhood kids.

☆ when y/n said her name atsumu didn't buy it at first until he looked at her closer and noticed the scar that she had on her eyebrow. the same scar that he gave her after throwing a ball at her too hard while trying to be funny. the ball broke her glasses and they cut into her face.

☆ y/n honestly thought she was gonna pass out from lack of airflow to her brain when she saw atsumu again in person after all of those years.

i hope you enjoyed! this is a draft from my wattpad that i'm reworking :) if you'd like to be tagged just let me know!

dividers by @plutism

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 7 (FINISHED SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents). They also live in America (because I wasn't aware they lived in Europe prior to this series).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 15,100+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, current chapter, chapter 8, final chapter.

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

        The sound of holy hymns filled the tall church, the painting of a man looming over (Y/N) as she avoided the male’s eyes. Religious paintings just always looked creepy, their eyes just always followed you. What was even more creepier is making prolonged eye contact with the same boy for two minutes now. 

        Bright brown eyes stared at her own for 120 seconds now, 115 seconds too long for a normal gander to be. Perhaps he was just looking at the people behind her? Or maybe she has something on her face? Dear God, please don’t let it be that he can hear just how awful she sounds when singing. It was like her voice was a sin to this holy choir. 

        (Y/N) finally broke eye contact with the male, deciding to look back at the painting of the sacred male. Even he wasn’t as creepy as that boy’s staring was, whatever his name was. 

        The church reeked of burning incense and an old lady’s strong floral perfume. It almost hurt having her mother and some strange next to her singing—practically screaming—into her ears while she did her best to memorize the lyrics. It was hard to remember what came after “I’ve been set free” when all she could think about was being set free to the food trucks outside calling her name for lunch. 

        Finally, the song ended as she sung the finally sentence.

        “You are forever mine.”

        What a creepy thing to say to anyone, to any god or not.

        (Y/N) stretched her limbs, earning herself a swat to her arm as her mother whispered for her to fix her dress before it rides up on her. She smoothed down her dress skirt, reaching behind and fluffing the white bow sewn to the dark blue dress.

        She was excited to go eat some food, then get out of these damn flats that kept pinching her toes. She watched as people filed out of the church, making her eyes meeting bright brown ones as they stared at her through the crowd.

        Has he even looked away once during this whole session? 

        .

        .

        “Hey, maybe he likes you?” Lola suggested, lounging on the library couch, taking up most of the space as her arm draped over the arm rest, her legs lying on (Y/N)’s thighs.

        “God, I hope not…” (Y/N) groaned, tilting her head back to hit the couch cushion just to be a bit more dramatic. “I don’t even know his name. That’s grounds for instant rejection.”

        “Well, is he cute?” Lola questioned, curious as she watched (Y/N) copy notes from her computer onto her notebook. 

        “I mean… I dunno? I think?” (Y/N) shrugged. “Gosh, Lo. You know I don’t ever notice that. Looks aren’t everything, you know?” 

        “Well, my future husband is definitely gonna have brown hair, brown eyes to match and a dashing, symmetrical face." Lola smirked.

        “Please, you’re asking too much. Your face isn’t even symmetrical.” Annabelle scoffed, sitting on the harsh library carpets. 

        “Shut up! I’m gonna get laser surgery for this mole when I have enough money!” Lola whined, hitting Annabelle upside the head.

        “I meant your nose, dummy!” Annabelle hissed, cradling her head where she’s been hit. "But that too!" 

        “Jerk!” Lola exclaimed, going to hit Annabelle once more, but Annabelle was quick enough to catch her wrist. “Stop touching me, Anna!”

        “Then you stop hitting me!” Annabelle retorted as their hands wrestled with one another.

        “Hey, hey! Stop! You’re messing up my notes!” (Y/N) hissed, hitting her shoulder against Lola’s.

        “Stop, that’s not fair. You’re double-teaming!” Lola whined.

        The school bell rung, prompting the three to halt their fight. (Y/N) packed up her notebook and computer with a sigh.

        “Damn it… I didn’t get to finish my notes.” (Y/N) complained, throwing her backpack strap over her shoulder.

        “I don’t know how you do it, girl. Being a nurse sounds like it’s such a drag, having to kiss up to everyone’s ass.” Lola sighed, looking at her hands to make sure her nail polish didn’t get ruined during their tussle. “Ah, damn it, Annabelle! You chipped my nail!”

        “Which one?” Annabelle questioned, looking over at Lola’s yellow nails. 

        “This one.” Lola smirked, holding up her middle finger.

        “You little—“  

        (Y/N) yelped, her body hitting the wall as her legs gave out from the unexpected force, knocking her to the ground. Two hands grabbed the collar of her blazer, pulling her right back up to her feet as they cornered her against the wall.

        “Was it you?” a male spoke, his fists shaking with anger as his green eyes met (Y/N)’s.

        “Hey! Hands off her, Ben!” Annabelle spat out, her hand touching the male’s shoulder.

        “Bud out, I’m talking with the freak!” Ben hissed, shrugging her hand off his shoulder. “Was it you?” he repeated, his eyes glaring back at (Y/N).

        “I can’t confirm anything if you don’t tell me, moron.” (Y/N) retorted, annoyed as she tried to pry his hands off her. 

        An uncomfortable feeling grew inside her stomach at the close proximity they shared, the tension downright suffocating as she resisted the urge to puke. 

        Dear stomach, don’t let me vomit on him… I’ll never go to school again. (Y/N) prayed to her stomach. 

        “Did you steal my wallet?” he finally spoke. “I had a three hundred dollars in cash and two gift cards, did you steal them?!”

        “Lay off, dude. She was with us this morning!” Lola spoke. 

        “Yeah, I didn’t steal anything.” (Y/N) huffed, finally prying his hands off her blazer’s collar.

        “I swear to God, if it was you I’ll kill you.” Ben spat, his finger jabbing into her sternum. “You’re a freak, just like your father.” He spoke, before storming off down the school hallways.

        “What an asshole.” Lola scoffed. 

        “People like that shouldn’t be let loose into the public.” Annabelle growled, before looking at (Y/N). “You okay?”

        “I’m just fine and dandy. Everything’s intact.” (Y/N) muttered, dusting off her blazer and skirt. “It’s not like he stabbed me or anything, so I’m fine.”

        “Jeez, girl. You really need to be more… phased? Like, get pissed off at him! Punch him! Kick him in the balls!” Lola encouraged.

        “Why would I waste my time on such pointless things…?” (Y/N) sighed, subconsciously picking at her nails. “I mean, Ben’s been doing this crap since middle school.” 

        “He doesn’t have any right to treat you like that!” Annabelle huffed. “If you won’t kick him in the balls, I will.” 

        “Can we not talk about Ben’s balls?” (Y/N) whined, a bit embarrassed at this stupid topic. “Just forget it, guys. I mean, this is senior year. We’re going to be graduating in three months, then I’ll never see him again so the problem will be solved.” 

        “The Almighty Lord blessed you with something I don’t have; patience.” Lola sighed, fanning her face exaggeratedly to show how heated she was about the matter.

        “The offer is still on the table if you want me to—“ 

        “No.” (Y/N) interrupted Annabelle, who just sent a pouting glare her way.

        Annabelle was a short, black haired girl with brown eyes and a serious passion for weightlifting. She even won an award for the best high school female-weightlifter in the state, being able to carry Annabelle was (Y/N)’s best friend since pre-school. They met in the sand box, where a boy stomped out (Y/N)’s sandcastle, so Annabelle dumped sand in his hair. That sand was in his hair for at least a couple days—it looked like lice to where the caregivers had to inspect and comb through everyone’s hair to make sure there wasn’t a lice that would soon infect other kids.

        They met Lola during their first year of middle school. Lola came into the year late as a new girl. She had bleached blonde hair with pink highlights in them (her natural hair color is unknown since she’s been dying it since she was six, not even in her photo gallery does she have a picture of her natural hair). 

        Lola hit it off with Annabelle instantly, the two meeting in after school’s photography club—which is the cover name. In actuality, it’s mostly just a place for friends to hang out after school and lie to their parents about doing important school stuff; however, the club does take pictures of pep assemblies and football games for the yearbook (albeit half of the photos are crappy and extremely unflattering). 

        The two girls are always begging (Y/N) to join the club, (Y/N)’s always rejected because she’s studying for college and to keep her college scholarship for a extremely well-liked nursing academy. After graduating that academy as a nurse, she can continue studying and work up the ranks to become a pediatrician! 

        So she has no time to be fooling off inside a club. She didn’t have that time as she did back in middle school. Well, she was practically a shell of a person.

        (Y/N) got hit with a large wave of depression. She’s not quite sure why it just suddenly came up on her. Maybe it was because of the abuse she suffered as a child, maybe it was because of the bullying she would receive at school because of who her father was, or maybe it was because she didn’t have a good personality or looks. Whatever it was, it weighed her down for months, making it hard to get out of bed, hard to shower, hard to eat, hard to brush her teeth. Everything ached with pain. She didn’t know what hurt more; her brain or her heart?           Annabelle and Lola were there for her though. They would encourage her to eat a little, to step outside for a bit, to shop for new clothes that would make her feel comfortable. Even after multiple suicide attempts, they never blamed her for how she felt, and they never gave up on her. Maybe the only reason she quit dying was because of them.

        “Hey, the bell is gonna ring in a minute.” Lola pointed out, holding her phone as she stared at the time, her 2008’s preppy Hello Kitty aesthetic wallpaper staring at her. 

        “Damn.” Annabelle sighed, disappointed as she rubbed her neck. “Well, see you tomorrow, (Y/N).”

        The two girls still had club after school, so they’ll be seeing each other. After lunch, (Y/N) doesn’t have any classes with them, so lunch is her last chance to see her friends before leaving school. 

        “Stay shining, star girl!” Lola spoke, sending (Y/N) her own starry smile as she referenced (Y/N)'s star hairlip, her lips coated in a light transparency of pink strawberry lipgloss. 

        “I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick. If I’m late to class or not be damned.” (Y/N) smiled, waving them off as she parted ways with them. 

        (Y/N) glided down the hallway, before reaching the bathroom, pushing open the door and immediately making a dash to the toilet without even bothering to close the stall door. She dropped to her knees, balancing herself by placing her hands on the walls (so she wouldn’t touch the dirty toilet) and puked.

        She had been holding that in ever since Ben slammed her up against that wall and shouted at her. The scene was absolutely terrifying to her, being trapped so close to an aggressive male like that did not feel good in the slightest.  

        How the hell do romance protagonists go through that? (Y/N) questioned herself, before another wave of nausea hit her as she thought about earlier, prompting her to lean over and puke once more. 

        Her father taught her many things in life; to raise a chicken and slaughter a chicken, to ride a horse and clean horseshoes, to tell the difference between ripe and unripe fruits, and to never trust a boy.

        “Boys are disgusting creatures.” He would say.

        “You should never trust a boy.” He would say.

        “Boys only care about their satisfaction and pleasure. Everything about you is irrelevant.” He would say.

        But men and boys are different. What makes a boy a boy is that they’re stupid, immature, and selfish. A man is someone who sacrifices themself for their family, and treats his wife and daughter with respect and kindness.

        How can you tell the difference between a man and a boy if it’s not puberty that separates them? How do you know until before it’s too late? 

        Truth is, her father has always been distrustful of men in general—though he’s never explained why. She has a feeling it’s because of his upbringing. Maybe he grew up in a bad neighborhood, or maybe he had an abusive father; whatever it was, he didn’t want (Y/N) knowing about it.

        But even though he hates boys with a passion that rivals the Greek Goddess of Passion Aphrodite, sometimes he doesn’t always act like a man.

        There’s been moments where he’s screamed, punched holes inside the walls, been gone for nights after a time, on a very rare chance break stuff. Sometimes he remembers the episodes, sometimes he doesn’t. When he does remember them, he cries and apologizes, hugging (Y/N)’s mother Rose and her. He cries about how sorry he was, and how he doesn’t mean to overreact, and how he begs them not to leave because of his problem. 

        Rose will never leave; she likes the familiarity of her home town and the memories of the farm. (Y/N) knows she’ll never leave the farm. 

        The farm is extremely important to the town. It provides lots of the local strawberries for bakeries and jams. It provides the church parties to have their famous loaded mashed potatoes and potato bread. It provides Rose’s pockets with money in cold hard cash. The farm is so damn rich that it even regularly transported goods to three different states nearby. 

        Rose is sitting on a hill of riches supported by her family��s farm of 120 acres all the way on the edge of the small, close-knit town. The farm was passed down in Rose’s family for three generations now. The farm is so important that every inheritor must only have one child, that way the children can’t fight over the farm when the parent dies. 

        (Y/N) is expected to have a single child too, her mother has drilled that into her head enough. Rose always babbles on about how (Y/N) will inherit the farm when she dies. Her daughter must not be a whore and spread her legs for any boy; he must be a farmer, he must be her husband, and they must only have one child. 

        Rose is extremely serious about the farm, despite it being farmhands who tend to the farm. Rose doesn’t help out, she decided to become a nurse for some more money. 

        People think “Oh, Rose is so good, but her husband Frank is just a monster” but in actuality Rose is more of a monster than (Y/N) is.

        (Y/N) spent the early years of her life locked in her damn room because of that witch. (Y/N) was forced to starve for hours to even days at a time while Frank laid unaware of what was going on to his daughter. Frank was consistently discriminated against, and constantly on his feet burning and cutting his fingers off in the auto shop, working grueling hours from open to closed because of mandatory overtime (which was actually just to drive the poor bastard out of down, or at least make him suffer for his condition “the Devil himself” gave him). 

        Frank had no idea the abuse and neglect (Y/N) received. (Y/N) wasn’t even aware it was abuse because she grew up like that ever since she was potty-trained. 

        (Y/N)’s early years revolved around watching TV, sleeping, and crying. Well, at least she had water she would drink out of the bathroom sink. 

        Rose spent the time working while (Y/N) was locked up, but it wasn’t uncommon for her to shove (Y/N) in that dreadful dark room just for  her to neglect her duties as a parent. Anything to get out of cooking, cleaning, or spending bonding time with her daughter. 

        Another wave of nausea hit (Y/N) as she vomited once more. Her throat burned from her stomach acid and stomach enzymes. Her lungs hurt trying to breathe whilst her heart slammed against her rib cage. Her ears were ringing and her eyes had tears in them. 

        A flash and a camera shutter got her attention, causing her to spin her head around to look at the source, only for another shutter to echo in the bathroom walls as she was blinded by a bright light.

        “Looks like the freak is self-purging.” A girl laughed. “This has to at least go viral on some platform. Not that you’re much to look at though.” 

        (Y/N) groaned, her throat aching from the vibration as she closed her eyes, cursing herself for not shutting the stall door. 

        “Y-you got it wrong…” (Y/N) muttered, meeting the girl’s blue eyes. 

        Kate’s had it out for (Y/N) for who knows how long. Kate’s been more of a bully than Ben has, and for longer too. Kate’s dad works with (Y/N)’s father Frank, and they don’t get on good terms (either because of her father’s disorder or because of Frank being given Kate’s dad’s hours for “mandatory overtime” only Frank has to do). Maybe because Kate’s dad hates (Y/N)’s father, Kate hates (Y/N)?

        (Y/N)’s eyes glanced over at the girls who were with Kate. Jen and Shell; though their real names were Jenny and Shelly. They were sisters, but honestly they’re pretty irrelevant in (Y/N)’s eyes. She just couldn’t bother to care enough about them since they didn’t speak much. Their current goal in life is to piggyback off of Kate, but maybe in the future they’ll mature and go their own separate paths—that at least make’s (Y/N) a little happy for change.

        “I wasn’t throwing up food. You took this out of context…” (Y/N) muttered, wiping her mouth with toilet paper.

        “Right… looks like…” Kate took a few steps to the stall, standing behind (Y/N), making uncomfortable shivers crawl up her spine. “Looks like the cafeteria pizza. What? Are you saving it for dinner tonight?” Kate snarked before smiling. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were starving yourself. Everyone knows you tried to kill yourself—I think that's the best idea you've had in your miserable life."

        In a small town like this, gossip gets around quick. One of her doctors or nurses were probably a parent to one of the kids here, so they let something slip. It breaches hospital code in keeping patient's confidential, but in a small town like this, there's not much consequences. 

        A flame of annoyance flickered in (Y/N) eyes, a boiling pit in her stomach. She stood up, dusting the rocks and dirt off her knees. She looked at Kate with distain, her eyes flickering towards Kate’s phone.

        She could throw the stupid plastic flip-phone into the toilet and flush it down, but she decided against it. There were three girls against herself, so the odds of winning a fight are not in her favor at the moment. Besides, (Y/N)'s trapped inside the stall, so her escape options are limited in case she does start a fight. She could bulldoze her way between the three girls, but then again, that's three girls. She can't really crawl under the stall because someone can just grab her leg and pull her right back—so she's at a disadvantage to win a fight. 

        “We’re late for class.” (Y/N) sighed. “I recommend getting to class soon, otherwise Mr. Jones will throw a fit.

        Kate glared at (Y/N) as she walked past them, muttering the smart words of “stupid bitch…”

        (Y/N) made it out of the bathroom safely, and without a fight too.

        Let them post that photo. (Y/N) thought, her footsteps echoing throughout the hallway. It’s not gonna be the end of the world. I’ve had worse.

        I’ve had worse.

        I’ve had worse.

        I’ve had worse.

        That’s always been the same stupid excuse she’s used whenever someone bad happens to her in life. She just can’t accept that she’s allowed to be angry, or sad, or afraid of anything; it’s always “I’ve had worse.” 

        She could fall down a set of stairs and ruin her science project she’s spent a month on, 70 bucks down the drain, but “I’ve had worse. At least I’m not admitted in a hospital room again.” 

        She could break her arm falling off one of her horse’s, but “I’ve had worse, at least I’m not starving.” 

        When will it be worse? What’s gonna top the next thing? 

        Because eventually, there’s gonna be something worse. There’s always something worse for (Y/N).

        A notification pops up on her phone, prompting (Y/N) to check it. 

        “Online transfer: +$300” 

        “What the…?” she muttered, confused.

        A minute later, another notification popped up. 

        “Withdrawal: -$300”

        Ah, it must be one of her parents. Her parents has access to her banking accounts and information, so one of them must’ve accidentally sent money to the wrong account and quickly withdrew the payment.

        She goes back to her classroom, receiving a stink eye from the teacher, Mr. Jones. 

        Mr. Jones also wasn’t a fan of (Y/N), well, more so her father. During the summer enrollment, you got to check out your classes and meet your teachers. Frank was absolutely livid to see a male as (Y/N)’s teacher. He was knocking down chairs and cussing a storm that the principal had to be brought down and threatened to call the cops if Frank didn’t leave. 

        It’s a miracle (Y/N) didn’t get expelled with some shitty excuse or something because of that scandal. Maybe that’s because this high school was the only one in their small town, and (Y/N) was about to graduate soon, so there would’ve been no point in trying to destroy her education when she’s so close to leaving.

        “Well, look who decided to show up.” Mr. Jones spoke, placing his dry eraser marker down, halting the learning of the classroom. “Wanna tell the class what was so important that you just had to skip the first ten minutes of my class?”

        (Y/N) resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She missed the days where elementary teachers would get down on your level and whisper to you so you wouldn’t get embarrassed in front of the class. 

        Or maybe she just wants to be coddled like a child…

        “I’m sorry, sir. I had a period problem.” (Y/N) lied.

        She had no shame or embarrassment, not with lying, and not talking about her body functions either. She was a human with a uterus, so if the teacher had a problem with then, then the school will too (or, at least they should).

        “Oh.” Mr. Jones scoffed, not entirely convinced. “Nice save. But if it happens again next week, I’ll be onto you.” 

        Yeah, he wouldn’t dare go against the teaching board. Even if he did, the student body of females would protest; (Y/N) may not be the most popular, but when it comes to woman functions, girls got each other’s back.

        Or they should.

        “Go take your seat.” Mr. Jokes spoke.

        (Y/N) walked down the row of students, jumping over Ben’s foot as he tried to trip her. She made it to her desk safely in the back of the class.

        Mr. Jones assigned the seats, perhaps he assigned her in the back so he wouldn’t see her father and be reminded of her father. Or maybe he just doesn’t like her in general. 

        (Y/N) sat down in her seat, confused to see someone had taken the desk next to her. That desk was always empty due to how small the student body was. It was a small town after all, so there were always empty seats in classrooms. 

        She recognized those brown eyes—it was the boy from her church. 

        She was surprised. He was never in her class before until now. 

        She decided to look away before he caught her staring, but he was watching her to begin with, ever since she walked into the classroom. 

        “Hey, I’ve seen you around before.” The boy spoke, looking at her. “You’re (Y/N), right?”

        Damn it. She has to talk with a boy? Out of all the other females around? 

        “Um… yeah…” (Y/N) nodded awkwardly. “How do you know my name?”

        “We go to church together.” He smiled. “I’m Ren. Ren Itami.”

        “Japanese?” (Y/N) questioned. 

        “Yeah. My parents moved here from Japan when they had me.” The boy, Ren, nodded.

        “Cool…” (Y/N) muttered, figuring the conversation was done, before Ren spoke again.

        “I just transferred classes today. My other teacher wasn’t good at teaching in a way I could understand, so it was only hindering my education.” Ren explained.

        “I see…” (Y/N) hummed, not too interested in what else he had to say.

        So that’s why he’s in her class now. Still, she doesn’t want to talk with him. Just talking with this guy gives her the chills, but she just can’t understand why. 

        .

        .

        A month or two has passed, (Y/N)’s not too sure how long it’s been actually, days always seem to blend together now. She goes to school, does her chores on the farm, then studies for college. 

        She’s been busting her ass for a nursing school she’s been dreaming to go to; the best news is that in freshmen year, the school reached out to her after she scored top grades in her biology and health classes. They offered her a fully-paid scholarship, including dorm renting and free cafeteria food! 

        With a scholarship like that, you’re damn right she’s studying hard. 

        It was passing period, the hallways bustling with students as people made their way from class to class. Some kids stopped and stared at (Y/N), much to her annoyance.

        Her father had an episode in town again, muttering something about being followed by a man. He filed police reports, but they ignored him per usual as this was a case they’ve reported about before, only to be a waste of time as there’s no evidence to prove it. 

        Frank got angry at his reports being ignored, so he stared yelling inside the police department, which quickly remained in him spending overnight in jail until he’s calmed down and no longer a threat to himself or others. He didn’t get any charges filed against him due to his medical condition, so he got lucky. 

        Of course, if Frank is a nut show, then his daughter must be a nut show too. That’s the logic around this town.

        Well, at least Lola and Annabelle didn’t think like that. They were (Y/N)’s true friends.

        “I swear, nobody can mind their damn business anymore.” Annabelle gruffed, more annoyed about the situation than (Y/N) was.

        “It’s fine, Annabelle. Things just happen.” (Y/N) spoke.

        “Hey, it’s seriously not fine.” Lola scoffed. “You shouldn’t be treated like this. It’s not like you control what your dad does.” 

        “If anyone messes with you, I’ll punch them.” Annabelle smiled.

        “Don’t bother…” (Y/N) hummed. “We have like… one more month until graduation. There’s no point.” 

        But alias, problems always seem to occur for (Y/N). As she walked down the hallway, a shoulder bumped into her roughly, causing her to stagger before turning around.

        “Freak.” Ben sang, smirking as he walked by her. 

        “What’s his problem all the time?” Lola scoffed, glaring at the boy. 

        (Y/N) let out a sigh to calm her nerves, annoyed, before moving past it—but Ben wasn’t just ready to move on.

        “Hey. I’m talking to you, freak.” Ben scoffed, walking back towards her.

        “Leave me alone, asshole.” (Y/N) hissed.

        “Make me.” Ben challenged, pushing her. 

        “Hey, fuck off!” Lola exclaimed, to which Ben ignored her.

        “Stop. It.” (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth, and for once, pushing him back harder.

        “What the—“ Ben huffed, surprised, before he quickly pushed her with more force.

        “Ben, st—“ Annabelle was cut off, shocked as (Y/N) threw a punch to his face. 

        “Fuck you, Ben!” (Y/N) exclaimed, shoving him away from her by using her shoulder. 

        Her legs shook, adrenaline and fear pumping through her veins, her fists clenching and unclenching as she realized what she just did. She’s done it now. 

        Ben touched the side of his face, shocked as it swelled, before his fist balled up. A crowd formed around them, watching to see what will go down, holding their flip phones in their hands. 

        Before he could land a punch, some stepped out of the crowd and grabbed Ben’s arm, pinning him up against the wall. 

        “You shouldn’t hit a lady.” The third party spoke.

        “Ren?” (Y/N) questioned, surprised. 

        “Get off me!” Ben barked, squirming under Ren’s hold. 

        Ren had appeared so fast, it was like he was here the whole time. 

        “T-thanks.” (Y/N) spoke, taking a few shaky steps backwards, before forcing her away out of the crowd of students, making her way to the nearest trash can and throwing up. 

        “Ugh… damn it…” she muttered, knowing she was done for, for real this time as people recorded her. 

        Yep. Sounds about right for (Y/N), just her luck. 

        She scanned the crowd, unsure exactly what she was looking for. Her eyes met his bright brown ones, before she closed her own.

        I really hate being alive… she thought.

        .

        .         (Y/N) had got called into the principal’s office later that day along with Ben. Some other students were there to recall the events and explain their side of the story, including Ren. 

        It really didn’t matter who was at fault, both of them got suspended under the excuse: “We don’t condone any sort of violence during school premises.” 

        You can just say that you don’t want the backlash from the bully’s parents and their friends. (Y/N) thought to herself, but she kept that thought in the hatch.

        The walk back home hurt. The whole day she had trembling legs and shaky hands, it seemed every hour she was near a trash can throwing up. She was severely dehydrated, light headed, and really just wanted to go home and cry in the shower.

        It was a hot day, making the walk home worse. Because of how big her family’s farm was, she lived on the outskirts of town, making her walk longer. The town didn’t have any public transportation due to how small the town was, the buses would’ve clogged up all the morning rush hour traffic where adults try to get to work on time, so buses weren’t a thing in their town. 

        There was sweat dripping down her forehead, her back uncomfortably wet as her backpack dragged down her posture, and she wanted nothing more but to just give up. Give up walking, give up life—practically the same thing.

        She made it to her house and unlocked the gate, seeing a figure sitting in her family’s rocking chair on the porch. The figure noticed her, before it stood up, running towards her.

        (Y/N) removed her backpack straps and threw it on the ground, before running and meeting the figure, engulfing them in a hug.

        “Papa.” She whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes, the sun burning the top of her head.

        “Oh, (Y/N). I got a call from the school. What were you thinkin'? Fightin' against a boy? You know boys are stronger than girls!” Frank spoke, quickly letting go of her as he looked at her hands and face for any marks.

        “I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me.” (Y/N) spoke. “But he started it! He pushed me first so I pushed back!”

        “He touched you?” Frank gasped. “What a freak! Boys nowadays need to learn some manners and keep their hands to themselves.” 

        “I was so scared, Papa.” (Y/N) sniffled, wiping the tears and snot off her face.

        “Oh, I bet.” Frank sighed, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go inside. There’s a fresh pitcher of tea waitin’ for you.” 

        (Y/N) nodded, picking her backpack up off the ground and following him back inside the house. 

        Her mother sat in her loveseat, watching the news on the TV. She turned her attention at the door, before motioning for (Y/N) to come over and sit on the couch across from her.

        “Frank, those blueberries should be in season to now. Could you go harvest them?” Rose ordered, finding an excuse for Frank to leave. 

        “Sorry, sport.” Frank sighed, patting (Y/N)’s shoulder, before walking out the door. 

        “I got a call from your principal today…” Rose started, crossing her legs. “Do you wanna explain yourself?”

        “I’m sorry.” (Y/N) started. “I got in a fight with Ben in the hallway. He pushed me, so I pushed him back, so he pushed me harder and I just got upset and punched him…” 

        “Jeez, (Y/N)… What are you? A animal?” Rose scoffed. “You’re a lady. You don’t hit people. And you especially don’t under the eyes of the Lord. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

        “I was just defending myself! He’s picked on me before!” (Y/N) defended.

        “So? You go to the principal’s office and report it.” Rose retorted.

        “But Ma, they don’t listen to me. They don’t like our family.” (Y/N) spoke. “They think we’re cursed. Or were sinners in another life!”

        “That’s nonsense. Everyone loves us. Everyone loves our products. We’re devoted followers of our Lord. How could they not love us?” Rose snapped, not seeming to believe it.

        “It’s because we’re freaks, Ma!” (Y/N) exclaimed, hitting her hands on her lap. “We’re major freaks! They constantly talk bad about us! We’re always invited last for our community gatherings! Papa is always getting mandatory overtime but no payment, yet everyone else doesn’t have that overtime! We’re constantly being sneered at in public! The kids at my school harass me, but you don’t care because it doesn’t affect you!” 

        “(Y/N), you can go to your—“ 

        “Do you know what they say about you, Mama?” (Y/N) questioned, her fists shaking as she spoke. “They think you’re a selfish, narcissistic, and hypocritical woman. They think you sold your soul to the devil to inherit your parents’ wealth.”

        “Who?” Rose gasped, her jaw dropped.

        “Everyone.” (Y/N) hissed. “They think Papa’s a freak because they don’t understand him. They don’t know what he’s going through. They think I’m a freak because I’m your daughter!”

        “Well, you know what? I’ve had enough of you. You’ve been acting like a freak lately!” Rose spoke, standing up from her seat. “What’s with you? Is it that college? Is that college stressin’ you out with your studies? I told you that the city isn’t for you but you never listen to me! Is it your father’s stupid paranoid delusions? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Don’t listen to him!”

        “He knows more than you do!” (Y/N) shouted. “And that college is the only thing in my life that will keep me away from you!” 

        “Go to your room, now! Go straight to bed! Don’t even expect supper tonight!” Rose shouted back, her voice louder—it was always louder compared to hers.

        (Y/N) had no problem with that, it’s not like that wasn’t her first time being forced to skip a meal. Besides, there's nothing too great about pre-packaged meals. Rose rarely cooks, and Frank is either always working in the auto shop or on the farm. It's been that way since she was a kid, so school lunches were basically a miracle for her when she entered school. Breakfast and lunch five days a week? That's better than no meals every day of the week! Or at least one every other day.

        She quickly took her backpack with her and walked to her room, resisting the urge to slam the door shut. She shut her door (gently) and walked to the bathroom, turning on the shower faucet and stripping off her school uniform. She sat down on the shower floor, feeling more tears well up in her eyes.

        “This fucking sucks…” she gritted through her teeth.

        She sat there for some time, before finally getting up and washing up. She dried herself off, before picking out some pajamas and changing into them. 

        She walked back to her room and sat down on her bed for a while. She was tired after today’s events, all that crying and puking and yelling really got to her. She should at least drink some water, but right now she really couldn’t be bothered. 

        There was a knock on her door, before the door opened.

        “Hey, kid. You doin’ okay?” Frank questioned, popping his head into the room.

        “No… not really…” (Y/N) sighed. 

        “Do you wanna talk about it?” he questioned.

        (Y/N) took a moment to think, before nodding. “Yeah. I think so.” 

        Frank walked into the room, sitting down on the bed. He sat down on the edge, waiting patiently for (Y/N) to talk.

        “I-I just feel so out of place…” (Y/N) sighed. “I mean, I don’t even know what I do but they hate me, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know I’m not the most prettiest or—“ 

        “Hey, stop that.” Frank spoke up. “Don’t beat yourself up like that. You’re one of the prettiest girls out there, and that’s not just cause you’re my daughter.” Frank explained. “You’re a (L/N). We (L/N)’s may have shit luck, but you know what? We always get back up. And we know what’s true and what’s not.”

        “You don’t have to be pretty to be liked. You don’t have to be anything for people to like you. It’ll come naturally over time as you meet some great people.” Frank explained. “Problem isn’t you, it’s society. You shouldn’t have to change yourself to fit societal norms, and you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up over it either. We just live in a shitty town with shitty people; but that doesn’t define society as a whole. There’s still good out there.”

        “You know what they say: everythin' happens for a reason. Right now, you’re just waitin' for your moment to shine, and when you shine; you’ll be a damn star.” Frank smiled, patting her back.

        “Thank you, Papa.” (Y/N) smiled. 

        “Now, is there anything else making you upset?” Frank questioned.

        (Y/N) took a second to think about it. Everything he’s been saying was right; it’s not that she’s bad, it’s that the people in her town are so close-minded, judging people because they don’t match their beliefs or act a little different from others. 

        “Would you be upset if I left the farm?” (Y/N) questioned. “I’ve talked about it before, about getting a scholarship to this really good med school, but would it make you mad that I’d be leaving the farm behind? Leaving you and mama behind?” 

        “(Y/N), there should never be a time in your life where you have to choose between your happiness and someone else’s.” Frank spoke. “You should always choose yourself first.”

        “But wouldn’t that just be that selfish?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Are you kiddin'? You’re leavin' behind thousands, maybe even millions, of dollars this farm gained over the generations!” Frank laughed. “That’s pretty selfless if you ask me.”

        “Ah, you know what I mean, Papa.” (Y/N) chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully. 

        “Think of it this way. You’re goin' to wake up to yourself, you’re goin' to shower with yourself, you’re goin' to eat meals with yourself, you’re goin' to go to work with yourself, take spa days, go shoppin', run errands, and go back to sleep in the same bed—all with yourself. Everyone else in life comes and goes; coworkers, friends, lovers, even me.” Frank explained. “Put yourself first because it’s your life. There should never be a period in your time where you feel the need to sacrifice your happiness. If you’re not happy, you’re not livin'; you’re existin'. It’s plain and simple. It's only selfish if you're in a position to help someone in need, but you don't help them despite bein' stable to."

        “I… guess you’re right, yeah.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling.

        “But if you plan to have kids, then you’re gonna have to make sacrifices. You can’t just make some kids and expect that to be over, there’s a lot more than just that.” Frank chuckled. “But hey, that’s a whole other story for when you’re older. Don’t you dare be tryin' to get pregnant at your age.” 

        “I won’t, Papa. I promise.” (Y/N) giggled, shaking her head at her father’s antics.

        She surprisingly felt a lot better now. Life didn’t feel so bad anymore, who knew a little speech was all she needed to feel better. 

        But in realty, it was really just her father sacrificing his positive energy to give to her. He may not be the ideal father, and he may not remember everything he does or remain in control of himself sometimes, but she knew this was her father Frank—not the monster or the sinner her town thought he was. 

        “I heard your mom isn’t letting you eat dinner, I can sneak some in here?” Frank suggested.

        “Nah, I’m really not that hungry.” (Y/N) shook her head.

        I might just throw it up anyways… she thought.

        “Just making sure.” Frank chuckled. “Oh, hey. You wouldn’t happen to know where that hole in the face came from, would you?”

        “What hole?” (Y/N) inquired.

        “While I was harvestin' those blueberries your mom told me to fetch, I noticed a square hole in the fence, at the bottom of the fencin'. It looks like some wire pliers or somethin'.” Frank spoke. “I told your damn mom we should invest in some sturdier fencin', but she’s so persistent in wantin' that cheap fencin' that we can easily move out of the way in case we expand the farm more.” He sighed.

        “No, I wasn’t aware there was a hole in the fence.” (Y/N) spoke honestly, surprised.

        “Ah, must be someone tryna deal my damn chickens. Nobody is takin' Charlotte from me.” Frank huffed, crossing his arms.

        Charlotte was practically Frank’s pet hen. Charlotte was born in domestically at her farm, she was smaller than the other chicks and had a white fluffy spot on her back. Charlotte has some serious attitude for something that’s easy to fry up. 

        “I’ll just go to town and replace the fencin' tomorrow. I don’t want any damn coyotes or foxes trying to get ‘em.” Frank sighed, before standing up from the edge of the bed.

        “Thank you for talking with me, Papa. I needed it.” (Y/N) smiled. 

        “Hey, it’s the least I can do.” Frank smiled, before ruffling her hair, causing her to giggle. 

        “Night, sport. Just remember, I’m proud of you no matter what you do in life.” Frank smiled, opening her bedroom door.

        (Y/N) smiled at the reassurance. “I love you, Papa.” 

        “I love ya too, (Y/N).” He smiled. “Get some rest now.” He spoke, before closing the door behind him.

        (Y/N) crawled under her covers and smiled, glad to have talked about her feelings. She didn’t feel as alone as she did earlier.

        She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the cicadas outside, and the snapping twigs of a bunny or raccoon nearby her window. 

        .

        .

        (Y/N) woke up feeling a bit more happier and relaxed than usual. She at least woke up in a good mood, the effects of last night's talk still lingering with her as she stood up. She did a small stretch to get her blood pumping, before walking over to her drawers to find clothes for herself. She opened up her drawers to grab a pair of socks for today, before feeling something weird.

        What is that?

         She pulled out a paper folded in fours, but her heart dropped when she saw red splotches on the piece. She quickly folded open the paper, reading the contents. 

        "My love, how utterly divine you are. I've taken care of that nuisance for you, are you proud of me? I couldn't stand how he touches you, how he wishes to harm you, when a beauty like you should be absolutely adored. He won't be a problem for you anymore, nobody will ever be a problem to you. You're like an angel, and all I wish to do is protect you from the evil in this world. I want to serve you and be your faithful prophet, your only follower.          You saved me, let me save you now. See you soon, my love." 

        It was printed sugar paper with typed letters printed on it, and dried blood spots on the paper. That wasn't in her drawer last night, someone broke into her house.

        It felt like she stopped breathing, a ringing inside her ears as her head felt fuzzy. She dropped the bloodied paper, taking a few shaky steps, before running to the bathroom and throwing up in the toilet. 

        You would think she'd have nothing in her stomach to throw up, but you'd be wrong. Whenever she gets scared, a nauseating feeling takes over and she can't help but empty her stomach. 

        She coughed and wiped her mouth with toilet paper, taking another piece of toilet paper and wiping the snot and tears off her face. 

        Who the hell could've sent her that note? Who the hell broke into her house and planted that? 

        Another thought stuck her. Just how long have they been watching her? What else is planted in her house?

        That thought pushed her up off the ground, scurrying back to her bedroom. She tore her bedroom apart, searching every nook and cranny. She even went as far as to check every single clothing item she owned. She found a small microphone inside one of her ceiling light bulbs; no wonder the room looked brighter, her soft yellow lights were replaced with white LED's and she didn't even realize it! She even dismantled a part of her alarm clock, finding a small camera there. And she found another small camera in the eye of one of her old collector dolls that sat perched on her shelf. 

        After another trip to the bathroom to puke, she did a quick sweep around her bathroom, finding another microphone in her bathroom lightbulb and a camera inside the shower head; hence resulting in her throwing up again. She grabbed all the cameras and lightbulbs, placing them in a large ziplock bag for evidence, before placing the note in a separate ziplock bag.

        (Y/N) sat on her bed for a moment, trying to wrack her brain on why this was happening. Why her? What this a nightmare? Who the hell would choose (Y/N) to stalk? It must be a sick joke, right? Nobody would write her a love confession, that's never happened in her life! She's close to nobody except Annabelle and Lola, and they would never do this! Kate hates her, and Ben's most likely still pissed off at her for punching him. There's nobody else in her life who's been around her recently except...

        She grabbed her hair, tugging the ends to cope with the sick realization. It was Ren. That stupid, creepy brat with the stupid, creepy brown eyes that just bore right into her all the time. He's in her church, watching her every move like a hawk. He coincidentally transfers into her class a few months ago. He coincidentally steps in and saves her from Ben yesterday. It has to be him, there's nobody else!

        Her throat was sore and burning, her eyes were exhausted and tired from crying, and she felt like she was about to tip over and faint. She opened her bedroom door, stumbling out into the hallway. Her father sat on the couch watching a baking show, while her mother sat reading a book on her loveseat. (Y/N) dragged herself into the living room, placing the ziplock bags onto the center table for them to speak.

        "Papa. Mama. We need to call the police. Someone's watching me..."

        .

        .

        The police were called down to the farm, talking to a clueless mother and father as they tried to gather evidence. The only evidence that could be found was the ziplock bags (Y/N) provided them. There were no signs of breaking in, but (Y/N) knew that was because of their own faults. They lived in a small, religious town, so everyone knew each other. They would've never expected anyone to break into their house, so it was common for people to leave their doors unlocked in their town. During the police investigation, they found a body inside the pig enclosure, the pigs feasting on the body of Ben Rivers. (Y/N) was immediately placed in custody and taken down to the police station to be questioned.

        She refused to talk without a lawyer, but there weren't many lawyers inside of her small town, and her trial date was approaching rapidly. (Y/N) was being trialed for the possibility of first degree murder alongside tampering evidence, and (Y/N) was trying to file charges against Ren for stalking, trespassing, first degree murder, and frame up. 

        It took weeks for their small town court to final accept their case and get court hearings done. The word got around quick around town. If she felt isolated beforehand, well she certainly felt so now. As luck would have her, Ren was popular in school and in town. He actively attended and volunteered in church, he had stellar grades, and a perfect social image.

        That's the only damn thing he has against her, a good social image. It's so unfair. Why is she punished for what others do? She didn't choose to be Frank's daughter, she didn't choose to be next inheritor of Rose's family farm. 

        Please, as if that was a good excuse, a part of it is her fault too. She was the one that tried killing herself. She was the one that sang the quietest during the church's hymens. She was the one that never bothered to stand out and do extracurricular activities like Annabelle and Lola do. By isolating herself, she's practically doomed herself in this case. 

        (Y/N) resisted the urge to play with her thumbs as she sat in front of the judge. She wore a white blouse with a black blazer, wearing a pencil skirt and black tights with black flats. Rose said that it would show she's sophisticated and respected, but (Y/N) felt like she was wearing the outfit to her own funeral. 

        She practically avoided Ren's eyes the whole session, not wanting to see what stupid "innocent" face he'll have on that damn face of his to sway the whole court. He sat in one of the seats behind her, just feeling everyone's eyes (including his) on her sent shivers down her spine. She was currently being tried for first degree murder and tampering with the evidence, but (Y/N) knows that's not true. 

        Surely they'll believe her, there were literally cameras and microphones in her room! There's practically nobody else that'll do this to her!

        "With all the evidence and statements taken into consideration, we the court, find (Y/N) (L/N) guilty of first-degree murder." 

        Her heart practically dropped at that. How could this happen?

        "With all the evidence and statements taken into consideration, we the court, find (Y/N) (L/N) guilty of tampering and trying to rid the body of Ben Rivers." 

        She tried to open her mouth to speak, but it felt like no words were going to come out. If she kept her mouth open any longer, she might just cry instead.

        "(Y/N) (L/N) will serve 20 years, with no chance of parole." The judge decided. "Is there anything you wish to say, Ms. (L/N)?"

        "How could you turn your back against justice?" she questioned, her bottom lip trembling. "I'm innocent. He framedme! Tell me how those cameras got into my house! How those microphones appeared!"

        "According to receipts on a shopping site, you spent nearly $300 dollars purchasing two cameras and two lightbulb microphones, and had them shipped to a public park. It was purchased under your name and debit card."

        (Y/N)'s face paled, her hands shaking. No, she didn't do that. Ren must've stolen it. He must've framed her!

        "Around that same time, Ben Rivers, the man you killed, also happened to lose his wallet that was reported to have at least $300 in his words." The judge explained, reading a paper in their hands. "It was also during that time that you fought Mr. Rivers at your public high school, which provoked the murder. With this evidence, you not only premeditated the murder by buying the technology and trying to get rid of the body, but also tried framing the murder itself." 

        "B-but the note? Where did that come from?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "There was no forensic evidence on the letter except for your finger oils, and the dried blood of Ben Rivers. The note was typed so you could hide your handwriting." The judge explained.

        "No, no! It was typed! Anyone could've typed that! Ren could've typed that!" (Y/N) tried to fight. "Please, this was a targeted attack! Ben was murdered! Mine and my family's lives are in danger! This didn't just happen out of the blue, it was planned by someone that wasn't me! It was Ren, it has to be!" 

        "With the evidence of online receipts found under your name and debit card, the forensic evidence of your finger oils after you supposedly found the note in your clothing drawer, the finding of Ben Rivers body in your family farm, the previously shown hostility you've shown against Ben Rivers in the past; it is with undeniable evidence that you are guilty of murdering and hiding the body of Ben Rivers." The judge spoke. "With all this said, (Y/N) (L/N) will serve 20 years in prison, no parole. Along with this sentencing, I hereby give the verdict that Ren Itami is not guilty of first-degree murder, of trespassing, of stalking, and of tampering with evidence."

        "What?! No! That needs another trial! You can't do that!" (Y/N) exclaimed. 

        "Court dismissed!" the judge shouted, their voice echoing throughout the courtroom.

        (Y/N) sat limp, staring at the table she was seated at.

        It's all over. She thought, her vision blurring with tears as her ears rang.

        She could make out her father yelling in the background of the ringing, but she didn't have the energy to look. 

        My life is over. She thought as the judicial security forced her up out of her seat, taking her away from her family.

        She stood up, tripping over her feet as security forced her away. She was able to tilt her head to look at her parents, watching as Rose covered her face with her hands; either she was crying, or she was embarrassed. Frank was standing and animated, his hands moving all around as his mouth ran, but (Y/N) couldn't hear what he was saying.

        (Y/N) forced her eyes to look around the courtroom. Most people didn't even seem shocked or surprised that it was "supposedly" her who killed Ben Rivers. A few emotional people cried, others filing out of the courtroom. She saw Annabelle and Lola here with their families, the girls' expressions looking betrayed and in disbelief.

        She saw the family of Ben Rivers there. His little siblings sobbed, and his mother covered her mouth as she cried. The father was trying to comfort Ben's mother, but his eyes stared at her with nothing but hatred. 

        No, don't look at me that way. She thought. I didn't do it. I didn't!

        He just needs some guidance. They all just need some guidance to know it wasn't her. It wasn't her!

        She finally saw the man that put her in this position, her eyes meeting his bright brown ones. His black hair covered his eyes, but she knew damn well he was looking at her. His disgusting, blood-soaked hands were patting the shoulder of one of Ben's siblings.

        No! Don't let him touch them, Ms. Rivers. She thought. Don't let him kill your other children too, Mr. Rivers!

        She was led through door, before the security slammed the court door shut, leading her down a hallway where a police car awaited to take her to prison. 

        .

        .

        One week here, and she could barely get out of bed. She was taken to the town's small prison. There weren't toomany people here, so she was able to get her own cell. At least she wouldn't be sharing a cell with a freak. 

        Oh, who is she kidding? She'd be the freak they'd be cellmates with. 

        She stared at the food on the ground, not wanting anything to do with it. It's not even that it looked unappetizing, it's that she had absolutely no strength to eat. 

        Her life was over, everything she looked forward to in her future no longer existed. She was going to get out of this town, run away from the farm's responsibilities and inheritance, find a place that could accept her no matter who her family was, go to college, become a pediatric nurse and help other kids like her and more. Somewhere in that future, she could even get a chance at a happy relationship. 

        But that's over now. Nobody is going to love her now. Nobody is going to accept her now. When she gets out of jail, she'll be at least almost 40. How is somebody going to accept a convicted murderer, whether they did it or not? Who is really going to believe her? Jobs will turn her down, she'll be lucky to even score a job at a fast food joint.

        It's all over now, so she might as well just die. Starve herself away. Or, at the very least, she'll try to the best of her abilities. Sooner or later, the guards will take her to the medical-treatment room, and they'll force a tube down her nose or mouth and feed her some crappy nutritional supplement whether she wants it or not. After that, she'll go to her cell, and she'll stick her finger down her throat and force all of that disgusting crap out of her body, speeding up her dehydrating process and just finally die. The only reason she's been drinking water is because it hurts to breathe without a moist throat. At least after a while, the starvation slowly stops to hurt, but dehydration just feels worse in her opinion. 

        There was a bang on her cell's bars but (Y/N) couldn't bother to look over, staring at the ceiling as she rested on her bed. 

        "Hey, (L/N). You got a visitor!" the guard spoke, though she really couldn't care.

        She didn't bother responding to them, staying in the same spot as she refused to talk. 

        "If you don't get up, we'll just bring them here." The guard persisted, though (Y/N) remained uncaring.

        She heard the guard's footsteps fade away, at least ten minutes going by as she listened to other inmates talking and screaming, some banging on their cells angrily. 

        Can't you fools tell it's pointless? (Y/N) thought.

        She wondered how many others were here innocently. This whole damn situation, being in jail, nobody believing her; she was almost convinced that she was a sleeper agent. Or at least, she was guilty but couldn't remember. Why else would people not listen to her?

        Footsteps echoed down the hallways, before they stopped in front of her cell. She mentally rolled her eyes, not having the energy to do so in person. 

        "Hello, (Y/N)." A voice spoke, almost smugly as they stood at her cell. "Did you miss me?"

        (Y/N) immediately scrambled up from her spot, getting dizzy and falling on the ground for a few seconds, but she forced her way up off the ground and ran to the prison bars. 

        "Y-" she tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse.

        She quickly ran to her table and grabbed a water bottle, practically chugging the whole thing before wiping her mouth. She ran back to the cell's bars, staring at them.

        "Y-you son of a bitch!" she shouted, her voice raspy as she forced her hands through the bars and grabbed the collar of their shirt, slamming them up against the bars. "How dare you show your face to me? I'll kill you! I'll kill you!" 

        "My, how hostile. I'm just doing you a favor too!" he laughed.

        "What the fuck are you doing here, Ren? What are you doing here?!" she shouted. "Was it not enough? Was ruining my life not enough for you?!" 

        "Calm down, my love. I'm not looking to harm you, honestly this all was my mistake." Ren laughed. 

        My love? My love? As in, the nickname that bloodied confession letter said? 

        So it was Ren. (Y/N) thought, almost sickeningly gleeful despite all the damage he's caused to her.

        At least she knows she's not completely crazy. 

        "Fuck you and your mistakes." She hissed, her grip tightening on his collar. "I'll never forgive you for this."

        "So feisty." Ren smiled. "I'm actually bailing you out. Shouldn't you be glad?"

        "Bailing... me out?" she questioned, confused. "Why did you even get me in here in the first place?! Do you understand how damaged my reputation is now?!"

        "Oh, please. It's not like it was good to begin with." He chuckled, causing her to glare at him. "I didn't mean for you to be held accountable for murder. Really, it was an honest mistake. I was just trying to cover my tracks, I didn't mean for that pesky body to have you end up in jail. It's a shame a pest like him is still causing you problems even after he's dead."        

        "Why didn't you just admit to the murder? Why did you have to involve me into it?" she questioned. 

        "Well, if I was in jail, I wouldn't be able to see you anymore, silly!" he laughed, his hands reaching out and holding her wrists as she held his collar. "You have such soft, delicate hands. An angel like you shouldn't be trapped in a nasty cage such as this." 

        "It wouldn't be so soft and delicate when I bash your head into the wall!" she hissed, ignoring his angel comment as she ripped her hands away from him, a new wave of anger hitting her as he had the audacity to touch her after everything he's done. 

        "Well now, I had to make sure you learned your lesson. I was originally going to let you have a month here in prison—but ah, but I couldn't stay separated from you for that long." He sighed longingly. "I figured a week must be enough for you to learn your lesson! I'm glad I came sooner though, it looks like you've been starving yourself!"

        I would rather stay a month here and starve than after to see you. She thought, annoyed. 

        "You've learned your lesson, right?" he questioned.

        "Die sooner?" she spoke sarcastically. 

        "I do love your humor dear, but now is not the time." He smiled.

        "What? Not to cross you or some crap?" she scoffed, crossing her arms. 

        "Bingo! Aren't you so smart?" he cooed, his hands holding the cell bars as she backed up from him. 

        "Fuck off. I might as well just rot away here. My life is over now." She hissed, turning her head away from him. 

        "Oh, no. See, it doesn't work like that!" he smiled. "Whether you like it or not love, you're still being bailed out! So, you can either come with me, or live in the streets! Aren't I a better option?"

        I'd rather be the next Oscar the Grouch than go anywhere he's going. (Y/N) thought to herself. 

        "So? What will it be?" Ren questioned. 

        "I want to be bailed out." (Y/N) responded. "And I want food." 

        "Sure, that can be done." Ren smiled. "Just as long as you promise one thing?"

        "What is it?" she questioned, glaring at him suspiciously. 

        "Graduation is near. As soon as we graduate, I want you to come live with me and become my wife. We'll move out of state and have our own family! Unless you want to wait for kids, we can do that too." Ren smiled, as if the idea wasn't crazy.

        "Excuse me?" she questioned.

        "Yeah, kids are a bit too soon, huh?" Ren nodded, as if agreeing with an idea she didn't even say.

        "I said excuse me! Not even a first date or something?" she spoke, shocked. 

        Well, she shouldn't expect much class from the guy that put cameras and microphones inside her bathroom and bedroom. 

        "On the way home we'll grab that lunch I promised you. Consider it a lunch date." He smiled. 

        (Y/N) resisted the urge to roll her eyes, before eventually agreeing. "Okay..." she nodded. "If you bail me out and get me lunch, I'll be your wife..." she spoke, her legs shaky at just the thought of actually agreeing to this ridiculous request.

        It can't be that bad, right? It's better than 20 years in prison, right? 

        "Oh, good! I was worried I'd have to bail you out and kidnap you on the streets! That would be quite the hassle to try and hide you!" Ren laughed giddily. "I'll be right back! I'll go pay and have the guards unlock the cell for you! I even brought you an outfit!"

        "Great..." (Y/N) muttered, not even bothering to force a smile. 

        (Y/N) looked around her cell for anything she wanted to take, but there was nothing that wasn't hers. She watched as the prison guard opened the door for her, a hateful glare on his face. 

        Understandably so, he's under the impression that she's a murderer of a teenage boy, and now she's being paid out of jail. No wonder he would stare at her in disgust, even if the true killer was the one standing right next to him. 

        (Y/N) stepped out of the cell, being handed a bag from Ren. 

        "There's some private bathrooms here, we can find one for you to change in." Ren explained. 

        (Y/N) nodded, silent as she followed Ren. They found a bathroom for her to change into, much to (Y/N)'s relief as she doesn't want to change inside of a cramped car with her stalker. Ren opened the door for her, about to walk in with her before she stopped him.

        "Excuse me? No. I can change by myself." (Y/N) scoffed, stopping him with her arm. 

        "Hm? Why?" he questioned. "It's not like I haven't not seen any part of your body."

        "Don't remind me, creep." (Y/N) hissed, a shiver running up her spine as he reminded her of the cameras. "You stay out! I'll just change really quick!" 

        "Fine, whatever you want." Ren sighed, disheartened. 

        (Y/N) closed the door behind her, triple-checking to make sure it was locked. She opened the bag that Ren gave her, mentally groaning at the outfit he chose. 

        She put on the outfit reluctantly, before grabbing the brush he left in the bag for her. She brushed out her hair, looking at herself in the mirror. She wore a white mid-thigh length sundress that Ren gave her, with strawberry patterns printed on the cloth, and frilly off-shoulder sleeves. She put on white flats that he left in the bag for her, and she refused to wear the questionable lace panties and matching bra. The outfit was cute, but she didn't like knowing it was something her stalker got for her. She'll probably throw the dress away in the trash later. 

        She walked out of the bathroom, looking at Ren. 

        "Ah, look at you! You look adorable!" Ren cooed. "Spin for me."

        "No." (Y/N) stated firmly, a flash of annoyance crossing her face at his audacity. 

        "Maybe next time." He laughed, before leading her to an office area.

        He signed her out, and (Y/N) shortly received her personal items they held onto. She had the outfit she came to the prison with, along with her phone. She checked her phone's battery, seeing it was at 0%. The battery must've slowly been draining while she was held here. 

        "Ready to go, my love?" he questioned, holding his hand out for her.

        "Die." She snapped, walking past him. 

        How could he act like this? How could he act like he did nothing wrong after he broke into her house and placed cameras and microphones into her private living space? How could he have the audacity to make her take his fall, then bail her out and tell she must've learned her lesson.

        Of course she's learned. She's learned that she's going to get as far away from him as possible, no matter what. It doesn't matter when, one day, she'll escape him. Like hell she'll be his wife. 

        Ren laughed at her hostility, making a comment about "how cute she is when she's upset." He was acting as if he was dealing with a fussy toddler. 

        Ren guided her to his car, causing her to halt and rethink her decisions. She was going to be alone in an enclosed space with a man, a man who has done nothing but destroy her life. Ren looked at her expectantly, refusing to get in the car until she does first. 

        He's making sure he can quickly catch her if she tries to run from him.

        (Y/N) sighed, before hesitantly opening the car door and getting in, closing the door. She tested the door handle to see if it'd open, but it was child-locked, she realized. If she wanted out of the car, Ren would have to unlock the doors and walk around to open the door for her. 

        Damn it, he's smart. 

        (Y/N) frowned, watching as Ren hopped inside of the driver seat. He turned the car on and smiled at her, opening his mouth to speak, before she interrupted him.

        "Food." She spoke, buckling her seatbelt for safety (even if she would rather be in a car accident instead of hanging out with her stalker). 

        Before he could question where or what, she added on. 

        "Steak. Go to a steakhouse." She ordered, crossing her arms. 

        "You seem to know what you want." He chuckled, smiling.

        "I haven't eaten in a week. Now drive." She snapped. 

        "Whatever you want." Ren hummed, pulling out of the parking lot and driving. 

        She looked around Ren's car, not noticing anything out of the ordinary except for the man himself.

        "So, what do you see in me?" she questioned.

        "Excuse me?" he questioned.

        "ExCuSe Me." She mocked, let out a scoff of disbelief. "You heard me, jackass. You stalked me. You killed Ben. Why?" 

        "Let's save that for our wedding vows, yeah?" Ren smiled. "Don't worry. You won't have to wait long."

        (Y/N) looked over at him nervously, before letting out a defeated sigh, instead focusing her attention outside of the window to avoid his predatory gaze.

        .

        .

        Just like he promised, he returned her back home after paying for lunch. He requested for her to keep him bailing her out as a secret, to which she hesitantly agreed.

        (Y/N) returned to her family's farm, rushing inside and hugging her father and mother. She made up a stupid lie saying that her good behavior let her get released, though they probably knew that wasn't the truth; however, they certainly didn't care if it was the truth or not.

        Everything might've seemed resolved now, but that was far from the case. The news of (Y/N) being convicted and released made the news and headlines. It was (Y/N)'s first day of school and she sat in the bathrooms during lunch, hiding away from the rest of the world in the stall. 

        Annabelle and Lola are no longer her friends. "We can't be friends with a murderer, whether you say you did it or not, the evidence leads to you." they told her. There wasn't a Ben to try and push her in the hallways, or to try and trip her in biology class. Mr. Jones couldn't even come up with a dry comment to say to her.

        It seemed like everyone was busy taking pictures or recording her. There were pictures of her mugshot taped onto her locker, and newspapers with the highlighted words "murderer" taped on it too. There were posts on social media questioning why she was back and how they could let a murderer escape.

        She would rather be known as a freak than a murderer any day.

        And the worst part? People sympathized with Ren. They were whispering about how sorry they were that he had to see the girl who "tried" to accuse him of killing Ben and stalking (Y/N). 

        It hurt losing her best friends from middle school. It hurt losing her social image, even if it wasn't much. It hurt being an accused murderer.  It hurt hearing the rumors that her family's wealth and connections to the Devil is how she got out of prison. 

        It hurt being known, but not known at the same time. 

        She constantly looked at the posts the media had of her. She didn't know how to feel; angry, sad, disappointed, afraid? People are just making assumptions of what they heard and know, they don't know that Ren is the real murderer tormenting her. They don't know anything.

        People whispered in the hallways and classes about her. 

        "I heard that she tried framing Ren because he rejected her confession."

        "I heard she was the killer all along. I mean, who gets a love letter placed in their drawers and doesn't know about it? Sounds pretty suspicious."

        "She got bailed out because of her mommy's money. She can't even accept responsibility for her own crimes."

        "She sure looks like a killer, all quiet and creepy. I didn't even know who she was until now."

        Even if Ben's bullying stopped, Kate's didn't. She only got more physical. What used to be verbally assaults was replaced with milk spilt on her head and cigarette burns on her scarred arms. 

        When will it be enough? She questioned the universe. 

        Never. 

        But the worst part? God, the worst part must be that bastard's face. (Y/N) constantly checked her room everyday to make sure there were no cameras or light bulbs, so Ren gave up trying to install more. Even though he stopped his 24/7 supervision of her, he constantly visited her at night, keeping her up by knocking at her window until she opened it so that he could talk her ear off about how pretty she was, and how excited he was to be her husband, and how close graduation was coming until he'd take her away from here. 

        He kept writing his stupid confession letters to her, about how much of an "angel" she was, and how utterly divine her beauty was. He used sugar paper to write on, and he used a dark red ink pen to write with. It was like he was taunting her by choosing red, reminding her of the spilt blood that stained the first confession he gave her. It was like he was reminding her that nobody believes her, that in everyone else's eyes she killed Ben.

        She would grab the letters and burn them on her father's grill outside. It didn't matter trying to prove herself with the letters, nobody would believe her anyways. All she cared about was tearing the papers, stomping them on the ground and burning them into embers that flew in the air. Even burnt paper was more free than her. She wanted to destroy the evidence of Ren in her life. She wanted to destroy his love for her, but he just wouldn't give up. 

        Even her own mother believed she was a murderer. Rose told her one day while doing the dishes that she should be ashamed of herself, and that she should've at least tried blaming the murder on someone who was more less known and a weirdo. Rose couldn't dare think that Ren did such a thing, not when Ren was such a respectful boy who attended church and participated in volunteer work. At least her father believed her, but it felt like he always had to remind her what happened, to never go outside alone, to never leave the farm. She wasn't even sure if her father actually believed her, or if he was mixing his persecutory delusions when he experienced episodes into (Y/N)'s life. It drove her mad, she felt her already poor mental health deteriorating into something worse.  

        The church kicked out her entire family from ever stepping foot on the premises. Not only was she isolated from her hometown, friends, and society; but not even church would wash away the "sins" she committed. 

        Her grades were slipping. Her studies were failing. Her sanity was dropping. 

        Everything just looked like a weapon for her to use against herself or another. 

        Why should she eat food? Why should she drink water? Why should she take a shower? Why should she live? 

        One week before graduation. One week before Ren would whisk her away from this hell of a town, and give her a new hell as his wife. 

        She was admitted into the hospital for a stomach pump and to sew up her wrists after having another failed suicide attempt. It's been a couple years since she last tried to kill herself, but after all the events that happened, it only seemed like the most reasonable thing to do. She had tried overdosing on pills and cutting deep into her wrists so she could bleed out, but her father came home from work early. He made it a habit to always checked up on her after work, so when he saw her unconscious on the ground with blood on her arms and empty pill bottles around her body, he grabbed Rose and made her apply a towel and pressure to (Y/N)'s wrists while he sped through town to get her to the ER. She made it out alive, much to her dismay. 

        She sucked at living. She sucked at trying to find happiness. She sucked at trying to die. Wasn't there anything she was good at except being a punching bag? 

        The hospital made her take multiple tests during her time there. She had to answer a lot of paper tests asking about her health, and she had to take tests involving her nervous system. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, exactly what her father has and is why he's shunned from society. She was also diagnosed with manic depression as a follow-up for her bipolar disorder. 

        It clicked in her head then and there. She'll never be fine. She'll never escape these emotions. She'll always be a freak, and the daughter of a freak. She'll always be the daughter codependent on mommy's money. The realization made her sob, try to suffocate herself with her pillow. She was placed under suicide watch inside the hospital, and she was kept for three days, when the doctors finally decided to let her go. 

        As always, word got around in school, and more rumors spread. The constant whispers, the constant feeling of eyes watching her, they were all looking at her, they were all watching her just like Ren. It was too much. 

        Why was she being punished for simply just existing? Even when she tries to take her life, they still look down on her. 

        She had her scholarship to her dream med school denied after the newspaper headlines made way to them. They sent an email about how they couldn't accept a mentally ill scholar to care for others in need. All the other colleges she applied for wouldn't accept her either.

        Everything was taken from her now. She had absolutely nothing to look forward to now. How can you possibly live if you have nothing to live for? 

        Ren was knocking at her window again tonight. Tomorrow was graduation, tomorrow was going to be her final day free from him. 

        Go away. She pleaded. Please, just leave me alone.

        After one too many knocks on her window, she finally walked over to the window, ripping it open and jumping out the window, tackling him and pulling down to the ground. She got up on top of him and started punching his face.

        "Fuck you, Ren! Fuck you! You ruined my future! You ruined my life!" she cried, her fists hitting anything on his face, before it hurt too much to punch him anymore. 

        When her fists stop hitting him, he looked up at her with a sickeningly sweet smile.

        "My love, I'm so proud of you for communicating your feelings with me." He cooed, his hands moving up and holding her shaking hands. 

        "I want to die. I want to die." She cried, her figure shaking as tears dropped on his bloodied face. 

        "So that's where these scars came from..." Ren muttered, running his fingers along her stitches. "My love, why must you cut your wings? If you cut too deep, you'll lose your ability to fly!"

        "I don't wanna fly. I just want to die." She spoke through tears. 

        "I never wanted you to waste a drop of your blood. I only want mine to spill..." he spoke, his fingers going from her arms to her thighs, trying to soothe her, but the feeling only made her feel worse. 

        "Don't touch me! I'll kill you!" she shouted. 

        It’d be such an honor dying by your hands. To feel your skin on mine. Please, tell me how you’ll kill me? Will it be slow or long? Use me as you wish and dispose of me!” he laughed, taunting her as he fed into her fantasies, as if the idea was actually entertaining to him. 

        No. She doesn't want to kill him. She doesn't want to touch him if he'll just enjoy it and act like a masochistic freak. She just wants him to disappear from her life. 

        "Please, please just let me go. Please just let me die. I can't. I can't do this." (Y/N) begged. "Just let me go. Please."

        "I'm sorry, but you're mine, angel. I can't live without you." He frowned. "Finders keepers."

        (Y/N) cried, slapping his hands off her thighs. She stood up off his bleeding figure, climbing back into her bedroom window.

        "I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, my love!" he smiled, blood leaking out of his mouth. 

        She ignored his words, shutting her window and locking it. She walked to her bathroom and washed her hands off in the sink, before crawling into her bed and crying herself to sleep. 

        .

        .

        It was graduation day, but she felt anything but excited. It's not like a high school diploma would fix everything in her life. 

        However, depending on how she plays this out, she just might be able to escape this.

        She received her diploma on stage, with little to nobody except her parents clapping (Ren was in line, but he wasn't going to clap for the girl who "tried to frame him for murder"). She quickly exited the stage, sneaking out of the ceremony and running out to the parking lot. She hopped into her car and drove away.

        For weeks she's planned this out. She sold her phone and laptop in case there was any tracking malware installed by Ren, buying a new phone and laptop. She gave her parents her phone number and told them not to give her number to absolutely anyone. She checked all over her car, inside and outside, looking at every nook and cranny inside the engine and outside for any airtags or tracking devices. She packed up all her clothes and important essentials, putting them in luggage and shoving it into her car. She closed all her old bank accounts and opened new ones now that she was 18, bank accounts her family or nobody else could access, transferring all her money into said accounts. She only had a few hundred bucks, and she refuses to stoop so low as to ask her parents for money (she does not want to be indebted to Rose). She said her goodbyes to her parents this morning, knowing she won't see them after the graduation. She even found Ren's car in the parking lot before the ceremony and slashed all his tires so he couldn't drive after her. 

        She didn't know where she was driving, but she was driving away from her hometown, from her family, and from Ren. She'll find a new home, and she'll learn to be happy there. She'll live inside of her car until then, and she'll search for a job until she can eventually save up money for a place.

        Weeks went by as she drove in and out states, looking for a place to settle. She slept on the side of the roads, and picked up cheap food from any gas station or fast food joint she could find. She would use free wi-fi from those fast food joints or public places, and she would take showers in the public showers of trucker gas stations (she would wear socks during her showers though, like hell she'll contract ringworm or any other fungi). 

        Living homeless was uncomfortable and downright scary, but she felt it was better than being Ren's wife. 

        A month into her escape, she received a sketchy email from a supposed learning institution. The supposedly email basically summed up to them being notified that you were looking for a med school, but because of your recent arrest charges, you can't get into any schools. The institution is offering to accept her into their school under any medical degree and skill due to the fact their school doesn't accept discrimination of any kind. 

        It was extremely sketchy, it even had a poster of a doctor recommending euthanasia for suicidal people (honestly she could use that). 

        But it was something? If she actually got a degree from these guys, then she could really get her life back on track! Get a job! Become a pediatric nurse! She could actually make something out of herself and be happy on her own!

        She responded back to the email, surprised to see the email reply not even ten minutes later. The email came with a short "thank you", followed by an address a few states away. (Y/N) gathered her items and walked out of the dining establishment, hopping into her car and putting on a GPS to follow the address.

        This was her future, wherever it will lead her, it must at least be better than Ren.

        .

        .

        (Y/N) woke up from her sleep, tired and disoriented. She felt a warm presence holding her, and looked up to see Andrew. Andrew's hand was placed on her head, his other arm wrapped tightly around her body, holding her close in a protective manner. 

        (Y/N) tried to carefully sneaking out of his hold, but it was to no use. She didn't want to wake him up, so she just resorted to lying there. She looked at her clock, noticing it was 8 A.M, far earlier than she'd like to be up by. 

        She looked over at Andrew and smiled. It's funny how she enjoys this practical stranger's company far more than she enjoyed Ren's, but I guess the difference between them is Ren was a stalker who didn't have any boundaries, and Andrew wasn't. 

        (Y/N) mentally gushed over his handsome face, resisting the urge to giggle as she saw drool on his lips. 

        What? She's allowed to mentally enjoy the peaceful sight. Who cares if he's a murderer staying with her rent free and she murdered his sister. She doesn't have many peaceful things in her life, shut up and let her enjoy this moment before her life goes to hell once more!

        She remembered that her parents had spent the night, and that (Y/N) had express-shipped a package today for Andrew. 

        (Y/N) groaned, closing her eyes for a second before reopening them. She placed her hand on Andrew's arm, shaking him until he woke up.

        "Uh... (Y/N)?" Andrew muttered, sleepily. "Something wrong...?"

        "Morning, sleeping beauty." (Y/N) teased. "Ready to start today? We have a bunch of shopping to do."

        "To spend a day with you? I'm honored." Andrew hummed sarcastically, before reaching his hand out and touching her cheek, gently pinching and tugging it. "Let's get today started, bedhead." He smirked, before ruffling her messy hair. 

Hello, my stars! I know Andrew didn't show up in this like, at all, but don't worry, chapter 8 will have tons of Andrew. I'll make it up to y'all by doing a cute little date with Andrew and (Y/N), where cute, wholesome things happen. Nothing bad.

Chapter 7 is done! Phew! This was probably the fastest I've ever written a chapter for you guys. I've just had a lot of free time this week and I felt really motivated to do this chapter, so I'm glad it's out! Chapter 8 has most of its outline work done, so now it's just the matter of getting to write it! The series is starting to wrap up, but I think it probably won't end until chapter 10-12 (no promises though).

I also know that Andrew wasn't (was barely) in this chapter. I wanted to do a chapter of (Y/N)'s backstory, but I didn't expect it to get so long... I just didn't want to half-ass it. It was better separating the chapters after all though!

Don't worry, chapter 8 will have tons of Andrew. I'll make it up to y'all by doing a cute little date with Andrew and (Y/N), where cute, wholesome things happen. Nothing bad. Thank you all for reading!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, current chapter, chapter 8, final chapter.

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

[monowritestoomuch]

I Know I’d Take My Heart Clean Apart If It Helps Yours Beat

Day 7:

Fandom: Obsidian Lantern: Merfolk

Theme: Hurt/Comfort. Listener tells Zef why they are working for Mr. Wood. 

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2044

Notes: SAY IT WITH ME! SONG LYRIC TITLE! Not from EPIC this time though. Do merfolk have eyebrows? I mean, they have hair so I guess they would? Anyway, I love chocolate covered dried bananas. Enjoy, I'm sorry this is so late. 

Zef and Sera had joined you in the cave where you and Zef had first met, reviewing files over Mr. Wood. You had finally gotten somewhere with your research through the files you had been able to obtain. 

Sera had been reviewing some of the papers as well, but he had mostly been reviewing human laws. Most of the laws were from your area, but many of the laws he’d been reviewing were international, or from the Geneva convention. 

When you had asked why he was reviewing laws such as the Geneva convention and other such international laws on violence, he told you how to be able to convict Mr. Wood in Bermuda, he would have to see what human laws Mr. Wood had violated in addition to the Bermuda laws. 

And meanwhile, Zef was playing around and eating your snacks. This time, you’d brought some chocolate covered dried bananas that you’d bought earlier in the week. 

“Clemmy!” Zef called out, arms out on the rocky ground of the small cave. “Clem~” he called again, his tone drawing as if purposefully trying to annoy you. 

“Zef,” Sera sighed tiredly. “Stop that.”

“I’m just trying to get their attention to ask a question!” Zef squawked in mock offense. He bobbed under the water before coming back up. 

You shook your head fondly, putting down the file you’d been reading. “What do you wanna’ ask, Zef?” 

“How did you come to work for Mister Wood?” Zef asked, dropping another few chocolate covered bananas in his mouth. 

Your body froze as your even, calm breaths stopped abruptly. Sera looked up from his documents, holding them in one hand with the other on the rocky floor of the cave keeping him afloat as he gave you a look of concern. 

When you didn’t answer the question after a few moments, Zef spoke up again. “You good Clemmy?” he asked, concern and confusion in his tone. 

You nodded briefly. “I’m fine,” You responded, an invisible weight appearing in your chest. “I just–didn’t expect you to ask a question like that.”

Sera placed the papers he had been holding down onto the cave floor. “Zef makes a good point,” he started, swimming over to where the previously mentioned Merfolk floated. “I too, would like to know. It seems relevant to the case,” he added. 

Although Zef just seemed to be asking out of curiosity, you were nervous to reveal your relationship to the man. He might’ve been your boss, but that wasn’t the only way you knew him, and the way you knew him, you didn’t think the boys would take it very well. 

“Are you sure? I mean–I work for him, but do you need to know how I met him?” You attempted to play off poorly. 

Sera seemed to sense your nervousness, but he could also tell that you weren’t telling the full story, and that wouldn’t work for him. 

“It would be better to know as much as we could about Mister Wood,” Sera explained, his stern gaze meeting yours. “And it would most likely be brought up in our courts when he is to be convicted of his crimes.”

Your nerves only increased as Sera spoke. You logically knew that neither Zef, nor Sera–well, maybe Sera, wouldn’t hate you if you told them. Logically, you knew that, but emotionally? Emotionally, you felt as if they knew how the two of you were connected, that they would despise you for it. 

“Well–” You started, unsure what to say. You knew that whatever you said would lead to yelling and shock, but the eyes and ears were on you now. “When–when I was a child, I was so interested in marine life and biology, and constantly wished to study them even though I lived about three hours away from the closest beachside–” You chuckled to yourself. “And my mother, she wanted to to encourage my curiosity and research, urging me to study what I loved–”

“She sounds lovely,” Zef interrupted, smiling while continuing to nibble on your snacks. 

“Yeah,” You smiled warmly. “She is–and back then, her brother was living close to the coast, starting up his own marine study center,” You continued, taking a breath as your heart thumped loudly in your chest, the invisible weight on it becoming heavier. “And one summer she sent me to my uncle’s place to study and research marine life with him.”

Sera raised an eyebrow in suspicion, as if he had already been catching on to what you’d been trying to avoid stating obviously. 

“At first it was nice,” You continued, hands becoming crossed and grabbing the opposite tricep. “My uncle was stern but not strict and we would study different shells and what caused each shell to be shaped the way they did. He always had me guess what caused those hollow shells with empty caverns to be the way they were.”

Sera’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, before shutting it and locking eyes with you. The expression on his face resembled concealed shock, his eyebrows furrowed in what resembled a wild rage. 

“I went back, summer after summer after summer. Every summer he would become colder somehow, more secretive. At first I would try to ask, but eventually, I would just leave him be,” You continued, wringing your fingers nervously. “And eventually, I went off to college. I got a degree in marine biology and was looking for jobs when my mother suggested–” You paused, waiting for the realization to settle in before stating the obvious. “-that I work for my uncle, here, on the coast.”

Zef’s face dropped from interested and curious to shocked and horrified, floating in the water in stunned silence. He looked as if he had been betrayed, but he hadn’t. You hadn’t betrayed him, and you would never. But in these very moments, you felt as if you had. 

Even Sera stayed silent, his usual stoic facade cracking under the weight of the revelation that had been revealed. 

You sat in silence as you felt their disappointment seep through your skin and bones and into your soul before you spoke again. “At first, It wasn’t even bad, I was doing minor work and even though my. . .my uncle was cold, it wasn’t a bad job. I met Doctor Evander–” You smiled softly, head down and facing the ground, unable to look at your companions. “--and he was nice, a good fella, but my uncle only grew colder. . .”

Your smile dropped and you didn’t look up, not wanting to see the faces of people who thought they could trust you.

“And when he got colder, his patience wore thin, and his anger became. . .stronger and more–more forceful,” You gulped, feeling as if your throat was burning. 

“What do you mean by that?” Sera asked, his voice deep and stern. You avoided his gaze, shame spreading down your face. 

“Clemmy?” Zef’s voice rang in your ears. “Answer Sera’s question. What do you mean by that?”

“I knew–” You sucked in a grateful breath of air. “I knew my uncle had issues–events that happened in the past to change him, although I didn’t know what those were at the time–but he started to take out his anger on his employees–”

“Did he ever raise a hand to you?” Sera questioned sternly, interrupting your shaky response. 

“No-! He–I,” You stuttered briefly. “He never–not to me, my mother would’ve practically murdered him–” You chuckled sullenly at your own remark. “–if he had ever raised a hand to me, but that didn’t excuse others, such as Doctor Evander, from being caught in the crossfire.”

“Clemmy, what does that mean?” Zef asked, his tone now far more manicked and concerned than upset. 

“We would have performance reviews, every week or so, at the end of the week,” You spoke, your voice shaking. “And every week, he–he would grab an employee and degrade them in front of all of us, sometimes even going as far as slapping them–and if they made him–if he was angry enough, he would damage products or materials we used and blame it on us and subtract it from our paychecks,” You responded with a shaky exhale, wishing for the burning in your throat to cease and you refrained from crying.

“Did he ever do that to you?” Sera questioned, his tone stern and without room for argument. 

“Twice, but he only yelled, never hit. After those two times, which was a few years ago, I was his perfect little employee who performed everything up to standard, and because of that, he never focused on me and I was mostly out of his sight–and I stayed near Doctor Evander and he was nice, but Mister Wood always pulled him aside and I would see bruises on his–,” You concluded. “But he never hit me-he never–” 

Sobs wracked your body as you shook, holding yourself in your arms as Sera and Zef watched on in mystified horror. 

“That has got to be illegal!” Zef practically shrieked, his voice rising. 

“Zef!” Sera attempted to shush. “They’re shaking,” he stated. 

“Oh,” Zef uttered, his voice quiet. He frowned, watching you shiver and shake, fat tears falling from your eyes. He swam up next to you and hooped up, sitting on the cave floor. Hw wrapped you in a hug, and although it was wet, you gladly accepted.

“Just because he never hit you, doesn’t make it okay,” Zef affirmed, raising your head to lock your gaze and his. “Oh Clem–why didn’t you tell us this before?”

You were lost for words, sobs as your only answer. Sera watched on, guilt hanging heavy in his chest. 

“I had previously asked what their relationship was to Mister Wood, and they told me that they were just an employee,” Sera stated, looking at the pair of you and Zef. “But they lied, and maybe they thought of what we’d think of them if we knew.” 

“Oh Clemmy!” Zef cried. “Did you think we’d hate you?” 

“I thought–” You sniffed. “I thought you would leave me here–leave me with–with this–with, oh with–” 

“With Mister Wood?” Sera asked, raising an eyebrow. You nodded as a response. “I would never leave anyone with such a man, especially now when I see how he treats family.”

“We’ll always be here for you, Clemmy,” Zef smiled. “Even if you don’t believe it right now, we’ll always be here for you, here to catch you when you stumble or fall, or when you’re stuck on a boat in the middle of a storm or–” 

“Whenever you need to ask for help,” Sera added, swimming over and placing a wet hand on your arm. “We will be here.”

“And we could never, ever hate you,” Zef added in finality, smiling at you. He let you out of the hug, hopping back into the water, but still facing you. 

You sniffed. “Thanks guys, that means a lot.” 

“Anytime Clemmy, anytime,” Zef offered genuinely, smiling wide. 

You laughed, sniffling. “Guess I’m all wet now.”

“Oooo, yeah, that’s my bad–” Zef cringed, hissing at his own revelation. 

“How about we reconvene here tomorrow? Give some time to process, no?” Sera suggested. 

“I’d like that,” You admitted, standing up and grabbing your documents whilst Sera put his in a large ziploc baggie, courtesy of Zef. 

“Bye Clemmy!” Zef waved. “See you tomorrow!” He ducked under the water, taking your precious chocolate covered banana chips with him. 

Sera collected his things before speaking to you. “What you did today, you shouldn’t be ashamed,” he stated, his voice somehow softer than you’d ever heard it previously. “If you ever need help, and I am serious. If you ever need my help, do not hesitate to tell me. I will help you. You deserve to be treated well.”

You stood in stunned silence with your belongings as Sera took a large breath. “Take care of yourself, I mean it,” he finished, ducking under the water with the ziploc covered documents.

You stood in the cave briefly, a warm feeling spreading across your chest, taking off the heavy invisible weight that had stood prior. 

In those next moments, you walked out of the cave, somehow feeling better and lighter than you had in years. 

[angsthology]

Pay Attention to Things That Most People Ignore ☆ LS2

logan sargeant is most definitely not most people. it was time he started learning how

characters/pairings; daughter of poseidon!reader, chiron, mr. d, son of apollo!logan, theo (oc), son of athena!oscar.

warnings; monsters, typical pjo-type violence, logan is hopeless but that’s okay! some chb innacurracy sorry i havent read the books in a while, err very rushed writing im sorry, LAWD this is a mess i tell u 😭 perhaps i hate it — 3k words.

a/n; is the title... an all-american bitch lyric? yes. why? im not good and titles and i went to that song in instinct... for no reason. also this was based on a request — though i do admit its a little bit different as i would (hopefully) be making a part 2 hehe. by now im realizing how this title prob has nothin to do with the story

Over the years, she’s come to accept her life. Did it hurt when it felt like her entire life ended? Of course. Does it still hurt when she turns on the television to see them basically rubbing it on her face? —Whatever.

In theory, she probably could’ve gotten away with it had she not been a daughter of one of the big three—thanks a lot, dad. —but it was proven one too many times that it was not safe for her or any of the other kids. If it didn’t put anyone else’s life at risk, she would’ve disobeyed her mother, she really would (she was a child, she really hasn’t grasped the full concept of what other people would feel).

But, you know, oh well.

It’s sixteen years later and she still has that lingering grudge in the back of her head as the screen plays another Grand Prix — another Grand Prix she could’ve probably been a part of.

She tried, she really tried so hard to forget about it, to let go of it, but again, it was proven to be way too hard to let go of something she had an actual chance of, an actual good chance.

Though it might be hard to let go, she couldn’t really complain much about the life she actually had now.

Sure, it gets pretty lonely sometimes being a forbidden child, there weren’t exactly much of them (that are known and living at camp). But she had everyone else, despite practically being an only child at camp, to her everyone else there were her little siblings—of course, that probably has something to do with the fact that she was the oldest camper and the one who has been there longest.

When she heard a set of the all-too-familiar clops her heart dropped from its current fast-paced beating.

She quickly closed your laptop shut, cringing when you heard how loud of a sound it had made. That was it. She didn’t even try hiding her disappointment in herself. She slowly emerged from under the blanket with her lips tightly-wound shut, bracing herself with whatever the Centaur will have to say, her mind playing a quick telepathic farewell to her laptop.

“Hello, Y/N.”

She sighed, “Chiron.”

“Where and how?”

She swallowed the pre-existing nerves in her throat, “Mr. D.”

He hummed in response, so she continued.

“A pack of Heineken and two bottles of Jack Daniels.”

“Hm, good picks.” She responded lowly under her breath with a small ‘yeah’ as Chiron walked closer to the head of her bed near the bed-side table—his hooves making clopping noises each step.

The silence was taking too long to her liking so she just went to get it over with, “So, you’re gonna take it away from me?” she paused, then mumbling under her breath for herself, “—it’s probably another Red Bull win, anyway.”

Apparently, it was loud enough for the Centaur to hear, making him chuckle.

Surprisingly, he didn’t mention anything else about the laptop, “Who do you support?”

Hearing the question quickly made her look up from her fidgeting hands to see the smile on his face, she screwed her brows in confusion as she continues to look at Chiron for—something. Then, realizing that he was still waiting for an answer, she shook her head.

“Uhm—well, uh—”

“You think that Lando will ever get a win?”

That seemed to loosen her up, “Ugh, Gods, I hope. I’m getting exhausted over here—you know, sometimes I really wish I could ask the Oracle about it.”

He chuckled then which made her crack a smile.

When it died down, Chiron looked at her smiling face. He couldn’t help but frown a little, he knew how she felt about racing, he knew how she still feels about it.

“Y/N.”

She looks up at him, “Yeah?”

“So, I am aware that your birthday is nearing…”

“I mean… why wouldn’t you be? I’m here all-year-round.”

Chiron cleared his throat at her interruption, giving her a look.

“Sorry.”

He acknowledged and continued, “I am also aware that it lines up with a certain event…”

She raised an eyebrow it that, almost guessing what that said ‘event’ was.

“So,” he stopped, initially had her thinking he was just pausing but when he left out the door of her cabin she raised her hands as if saying ‘what gives?’

Seconds passed and it seemed like Chiron wasn’t going to come back any time soon so instead she stumbled off of her bed to quickly catch up to the Centaur that was headed to a building—the girl almost caught up to him, almost following him into the building but he was already back out in a good few seconds, stopping her right in front of the set of stairs, raising both her hands in question once more, “You just left. ‘So’, what?”

“I have it arranged that you will be attending the Miami Grand Prix.” He smiled as he handed her a lanyard.

She swore her eyes looked like it could’ve popped out of their sockets in a matter of seconds. She couldn’t believe what she was holding; a paddock pass. She couldn’t believe Chiron had done this for her considering how careful of a man (well, half-man) he is especially with her being a forbidden child. This was about to turn into the best birthday yet.

When she looked up to the smiling Chiron, her mouth still hung open in shock but her arms immediately wrapped around the man’s body in a bone-crushing hug.

She didn’t know how many ‘thank you’s that spilled out of her mouth but next thing she knew he was hugging her back with a chuckle escaping his lips.

After a few more ‘thank you’s from her, she pulled away smiling at him, “I thought you’d rather keep me here forever, why now?”

He cleared his throat, “Well, you are turning twenty-one, not many of you reach that kind of age—don’t tell them I said that—so I’d like to make it a bit more special.”

Still smiling, she looked at the paddock pass in her hand again, “You don’t know how much I appreciate this, Chi. Thank you, again.”

Being there felt… odd… unnatural.

She always thought if she were ever walking through the paddocks she would be walking as a driver.

What was even more odd was she felt her senses tingling, like she was being watched.

It was a bustling crowded place with many more interesting people compared to her, so it was weird to her that she felt like she was being watched of all people.

But alas, she brushed it off. It didn’t feel like anything bad—if it were, she would know—so she’s just going to have to save that thought for later.

She had to remind herself why she’s here; daydream in real-time of what could’ve been.

Yeah, she weren’t really keen on letting that go.

That is, until she was into her head she failed to notice the person—and group of people that came with said person—she was running into.

Before she knew it, a strong arm was holding her back with too much force for her liking, the action itself almost kicking in her self defense instinct until the person she did bump into pushed the hand away.

He was now talking to her, she assumed, but she was too focused on the person who had pushed her away.

Something about him felt… off. He was what she would count as freakishly huge for a normal human being, her eyes couldn’t help but recalculate the large man over and over until eventually the person that has been trying to get her attention snaps her out of it.

“Sorry, that’s Theo, he’s like that. I swear he doesn’t mean any harm.”

The scowl she hadn’t realized that made it’s way to her face slowly dropped as she slowly move her gaze to the person that was talking to her.

When their eyes met, she swore she saw a flash of something pass by his expression.

“Yeah,” she finally let go of this ‘Theo’ person and found her words, “Sorry I bumped into you.”

“That’s fine.” There was a brief silence across them until he cleared his throat, “I’m Logan, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know. You drive for Williams.” She replied flatly.

He cleared his throat again, scanning her for the shortest moment, “Do I know you?”

She looked to his eyes again with a small squint. “Most likely not. Good luck, bye.”

Before he could say anything else she was already speed-walking away. And for some odd reason, Logan found himself watching her walk away before getting pulled away himself just in the same time as the girl turned around to give a watchful eye.

It was getting annoying. This was supposed to be a weekend to enjoy but she could not help but feel that uneasiness creeping up on her. Over the years she had somewhat mastered the ability—well more the ability mastering her—of sensing bad things, whether that was events or creatures alike.

So, to simply put that together, that’s how she found herself sneaking around the Williams garage. Not hospitality, garage.

From years of quests here and there, many hours of weapons training, and not to mention capture the flag schemings with other campers, she had mastered the skill of being sneaky. It really did work well in her favor.

What she didn’t expect was to be completely entranced the moment she got into the busy garage; it was the first time she was seeing a real life-size F1 car in real-time.

Everything was so enchanting to her, it felt like she was reliving her childhood dreams all over again. When she had gone through with her plan, she didn’t really register the fact that she was going to go face to face with an actual working Formula One garage.

She really tried to stay focused on the task at hand but it really was in her blood to be unfocused.

“Hey!”

Somehow, just somehow, she had heard his voice over the loud noises around her and just somehow, she knew he was addressing her.

Immediately, she tried to hide or duck behind something—anything just so she didn’t have to face him.

Before she knew it a hand was gripping her upper arm and pulling her somewhere quieter and she was met with green eyes that looked at her with suspicion.

“Are you like a fan or something?”

She was taken aback by his words.

“…what?”

“Are you following me?”

“What—no. I mean not you specifically—why did I say that.” she whispered the last part to herself. If she was being honest, she hasn’t really been brushing up her skills in socializing with anyone else that weren’t the campers.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing! I—”

Their conversation—if you could’ve called it that anyway—was interrupted by the same man she had been suspecting from earlier.

“There you are.” It was the first time she was hearing his voice and just by that she already knew that they were going to be in big trouble. His voice was low and unnerving, saying the words as if he’s been searching for them not for worried purposes rather unfortunate ones.

Logan didn’t seem to have the same feeling as her as he looked more relieved among other things to see the man. “Theo!” he greeted while throwing his hands in the air, “What’s up, man?”

Fortunately for Logan, Theo wasn’t exactly paying attention to him instead looking at the girl in front of him instead.

When he noticed he tried to interfere, “Oh, no, don’t worry about her, she’s not harmful.” He then realized he didn’t exactly know this girl so he looked at her with questioning eyes, “You aren’t, right?”

Except her focus didn’t waver from the big man that looked at her with a stare that tried to kill.

Logan, still clueless, looked between the two back and forth in confusion until Theo said something that really caught his attention.

“Daughter of Poseidon.” Theo growled.

Logan’s head couldn’t snap towards her faster.

“Shit.” She mumbled under her breath.

Before they knew it, she had grabbed a hold of his hand and running away with it, Logan still very much in shock at this new information he attained.

Through empty places and crowded ones, the girl forgot that the man she had ahold of weren’t just anyone but a very real and hard-to-miss Formula One driver. Sure, he was a rookie but a driver nonetheless.

But she couldn’t care less about the attention she was gaining; she was far too busy running for her life than think about cameras and the public.

“What the hell was he talking about? Poseidon?!” she didn’t answer his panicked question so he continued instead, “Are you a half-blood too?”

The ‘too’ in his question was what finally caught her attention but still, she didn’t answer him, only cursing herself for not noticing one when she saw one.

Just when she thought they had lost them, the monster once disguised as Theo was standing there at the end of the opening, she and Logan had slipped in.

Next thing she knew she was fumbling around trying to fight off the apparent Giant that was Theo.

“What the hell are you doing there, mind a little help over here?” she yelled over at Logan who was pretty much… useless in the corner.

He continued to panic, looking for anything he could use to get the Giant off of her.

Suddenly, while she was struggling to get the Giant’s grip off of her, the force stopped as a cloud of mist poofed where the monster was once before. She quickly scrambled herself up and was met with a figure in McLaren clothing holding a gold-dust colored weapon pointing at her.

“Oscar Piastri?!”

He didn’t answer her, dagger still pointing at her direction, “Who are you?”

Putting her hands out in defense she explained herself, “I respect that.” she commented, “I’m Y/N L/N, I am the daughter of Poseidon,” then she cautiously pointed at the Australian, “I’m assuming you’re a half-blood too.” she nodded at him, “Who do you belong to?”

Oscar then slowly lowered his weapon, his trust building by the minute, “Athena.”

Then both of them turn to Logan simultaneously.

“No!” he got defensive immediately, “I want to know what just happened!” he pointed accusingly.

All of a sudden, it just finally hit Oscar, “Poseidon?!”

The sea god’s daughter made a face and ignored the Australian, “What do you mean what just happened? Typical demigod stuff!”

The look on his face made her double-take, “You… do have occasional encounters with monsters here and there… right?”

When Logan’s expression doesn’t change, she turns to Oscar.

“I have this for a reason.” He said slowly, showing her the dagger. “—and, well, if I’m being honest, that has never happened before.”

“Shit.” she shakes her head in disappointment then pulling out her phone, “I need to make a phone call.”

She left the two men by themselves and went ahead as the line rings a couple of times before getting an answer.

After a brief conversation—that will continue later for details—the girl locked her phone and walked towards the two drivers.

“You’re coming with me this summer. It will not be up for debate and don’t worry about your… duties, I have it covered.”

Logan was quick to stop her explanations, “Wait—what—no! At least explain what the hell that phone call was about. You can’t just drop all that on us and expect us to be okay with it.

She rolls her eyes, “I’ll explain later, right now, you two have a job to do.” They didn’t object to that, the three of them walking out the pretty-hidden space the Giant had decided to corner them before.

Oscar stopped just outside, “I can take care of myself if anything else decide to come out and attack me, you should probably go with him. And uh, I actually need to talk to you,” he pointed at her, “—later. Not exactly letting you off the hook that easily.”

She didn’t complain.

The two walked in silence, every once in a while getting stopped for a picture and such, until Logan speaks up.

“Apollo.”

She turned to him, eyebrow raised.

“My dad.”

“Oh.” She paused then comments, “Fitting.”

He didn’t know what it was in her voice, it didn’t sound exactly like a compliment but he wasn’t sure if it was an insult.

Whatever, he shrugged it off.

After that, they both went into their own train of thoughts.

Without noticing, they both sucked in a breath in unison.

“I’m sorry for—”

“I think you should—”

The two quickly stepped back from whatever it was they were going to say, heat rushing up their necks. They kept walking on the awkward silence that fell upon them until Logan re-focused his attention and remembering what she had said—well, what she almost said earlier.

“Wait—‘sorry’? What were you apologizing for?” he turned to her who was now ducking away from his eyes, her own focus stayed on her fidgeting hands.

She made a noise before finally finding her words, “It’s just—this always happens, you know. I’m a forbidden kid, I attract the worst kind of trouble there is for half-bloods. And earlier; I had brought it to you and Oscar.” he was going to say something to ease her guilt but she beat him to it, “I’m just glad that monster didn’t hurt any of you.” She threw her hands in the air, “I mean, it’s qualifying day for Gods sake! —maybe I shouldn’t go to the race tomorrow.” She mumbled the last part to herself, though not quietly enough that the driver didn’t hear.

Logan was taken aback by her statement, giving him an opening on his almost-offer.

“What—no! Why not?” he asked.

“Look, it’s bad enough that there’s two demigods in one place; adding a forbidden kid in the mix won’t really make it any better. I still want everyone to have a safe race. Who knows what kind of other monsters I could attract.”

From every point of view Logan could gather, it was simply a fact that this girl knows about their world far more than he did, far more than Oscar did, so he couldn’t really be the voice of judgement in whatever she had to say. But… he wanted her to stay.

It calmed him down for some reason, knowing someone shares the same—if not, worse—fate as you.

So, he tried to find a reason, a good reason to make her stay. Of course, he wasn’t a pro at this half-blood thing so he offered something that he was familiar with. He gave her a more… human reason.

“I think you should stay.” He blurted.

“Logan—”

“Dude—is it alright if I called you that?”

“Uh, go nuts.”

“You deserve to have some fun, watch a race! I’ll even have you as an official Williams guest!”

She hummed with a smile creeping up.

“And if you’re worried about trouble, that’s fine. We can always handle trouble! We are all trouble-bound any way, better face them now than later! Plus, I think it’d be good if you could teach us the basics early.”

She felt the warmth spread through her chest. It’s been a while since she felt someone so welcoming that wasn’t anyone within Camp Half-blood. It was nice. He was nice. Almost made her forget that she was in the place she was meant to be in.

Her heart felt wholesome, but didn’t make it show, her mouth couldn’t stop the comment from escaping her mouth instead.

“You really want me to stay, huh?”

[dean-a-mean-tae]

Light At The End | Stray Kids Extra Member AU

You shine bright Brighter than all the stars ... And your perfection even in your mistakes Give affection even when your heart aches

Chan x Nicholas | Those are song lyrics from Alvin and the Chipmunks ;-; | I hope this was to your standards!

WARNINGS: Discrimination, Racism, Could be perceived as self-harm (Nicholas gets hurt twice but is okay with both), anorexia (different for everyone this is based on my experience), I think that's it

I realized I forgot to put warnings, and I am so sorry. (Update 12/22/23 9:20)

Nicholas Ross Master List | Requested: Yes | Of The Tunnel Part 2

"I'm gonna ask you something, and I want you to be honest," Chan whispered. His voice was loud in the silence of his room. Nicholas sat with him with a stuffed frog in his lap.  

They were in their spot again. The place Nicholas first opened up to Chan. The place where Chan swore to help Nicholas find himself.

"What happened?"

You know the phrase, 'Your parents are your first bullies,' right? They told you they did it to prepare you for the world, and it worked. You know the world is cruel, and nowhere is safe for you. Not even your head. Your head is clouded by judgment forced on you as a child.

"Why don't you talk to me?" They whine. They don't realize they follow in their parents' footsteps. They tell your business because it's family, then get angry when you do the same. Isn't that what they taught you?

Nicholas grew up in a world of hate and then got thrown into a world of more hate.

He couldn't handle the ones about his appearance. Why don't they like him? He's tall, has soft skin, has healthy hair, and is happy. He has proper hygiene and cares for his body as much as it allows. 

He was used to the comments about his talent, or lack thereof. He could handle the ones complaining about his spot in Stray Kids. Those were easy because they were true. These cuts weren't deep, and they reminded him of home.

"You did good in practice today," Felix said as he looped his arm through Nick's.

"Only because Minho hyung stayed behind and helped. I'm out of rhythm still," Nicholas denied, shaking his head.

But the ones about his appearance? His mother taught him to be proud of his complexion and how his hair grew from his scalp. So, what was wrong with him? Why don't they like him? Why can't they like him?

"Nicholas?"

Maybe he should get a perm. Is that what it's called? A perm? The thing that gives you curls or takes your curls is a perm, right? Whatever, the stylist will know what he's talking about. It was her idea anyway.

"When will you tame these knots?" The woman groaned as she brushed through Nicholas' hair. It hurt, but he wouldn't say anything. She is the hairstylist. This is her job. It hurt when his momma braided his hair, but it always looked good when done.

"What knots? I brushed and plaited my hair," Nicholas explained, looking at the woman in the mirror. She would be pretty if she stopped glaring. Glaring gave her wrinkles around the eyes and reminded him of those pug dogs.

"We should put a relaxer in your hair. The chemicals will make it straight and fix these knots." She ignored him. She kept talking about his unmanageable hair and how difficult it was to work with him.

Relaxer, that's what it's called, or is it both? Nicholas can't remember. He should schedule one. He couldn't tell the members. Jeongin and Changbin would strangle him before letting him get rid of his curls.

"Nick, can you hear me?"

"Did you hear?" Someone whispered, and Nicholas tilted his head. The mirror showed the two stylists behind him.

"He only washes his hair once a month. Twice if his members help him," She grumbled. 

The woman in front of her grimaced in disgust, "Could you imagine the build-up?"

"What about his stylist?" The first one huffed, leaning to hide from a passing staff. "Don't you think it's selfish making her deal with the dirt?"

Maybe the relaxer will help make wash days easier. Simple wash days meant his hair could be washed frequently. 

His eyes were stinging again. 

"Don't rub your eye so hard," Chan scolded as he yanked Nicholas' arm away from his eye. The pull sent a pain up his shoulder, but it's okay. "You still have your contacts in."

Contacts? Oh, the new ones he got from Nicki. After one of the members gave her his account information, she would put money in his account and order things for him. A sweet woman, she is.

For some reason, these contacts prevent him from crying. He likes them.

"Is this about the comments?" Chan whispered. He knew? Of course, he knows. If Chan knows, then Minho knows. Minho finds these things before everyone.

Nicholas still can't find the strategy in Minho's methods.

"Nicholas?" 

He did it again. He fell down the rabbit hole. He needs to stop doing that. Did he eat today? He skipped breakfast cause he had an early practice. He promised Hyunjin he would eat later after vocal lessons. He drank a smoothie and ate an apple. 

Technically, he didn't lie. Hyunjin would still be mad, though.

"I need to eat something," Nicholas said, more like croaked. Had he been quiet this whole time?

"You're hungry?" Chan asked.

"No." But he knew he needed to eat something. He was doing so well. He ate two meals and four snacks yesterday. And he didn't throw up. He forgot to tell Nicki about that. 

Too late now. Progress gone.

"I'm proud of you." Maybe it was how soft Chan said. Or it could have been because of the raw emotion in his voice. But a quiet, pathetic sound left Nicholas' lips, and his fists tightened around the frog. Gentle hands guided him to warmth. 

You would think he'd be used to this by now. Comfort through touch or even words. He didn't have that from his parents, and his sister didn't know how to be gentle until they were older.

"I'm proud of you."

There it was again. The phrase that broke him. The phrase that scared him. He used to think love was conditional.

But a genuine love, platonic or romantic, is unconditional, even when it hurts. That's why it hurts to move on or forget.

He was moving now. Where is he going?

"Go to sleep, Nick," Chan whispered. Oh, he's being carried. That's why it's so warm. They're going home? He missed home. He wondered how they were doing.

"Thank you, Starlight," Nicholas whispered.

"You're welcome."

Nicholas Ross Master list | Of The Tunnel Part 2

©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: @bada-lee-ily, @jinnie-ret, @hwxnghyynjin, @foxilsdenn, @rensahazard, You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.

[spacebabesuki]

Honey, you're too sweet for rock n roll - Hellcheer

Eddie Munson|Chrissy Cunningham|Hellcheer Week 2024|Sing - Day 12 @hellcheerweek

1.9k words

Ten years ago, in 1986, Laura Cunningham managed to separate Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham, blocking her daughter from a happily-ever-after because she didn’t want her with “that delinquent.” Laura sent Chrissy away to a convent, isolating her from everyone and everything. With a cunning plan, she made sure the two would never see each other again.

Eddie Munson believed Chrissy left him for Jason Carver, which drove him mad, pushing him to do whatever it took to make it in life and amass a fortune. Meanwhile, Chrissy thought Eddie abandoned her to chase his dreams in Los Angeles.

Now, ten years later, Overkill—Eddie Munson’s band—is the biggest in the world, with sold-out tours, Grammys, millions of albums sold, and a fortune in his bank account.

Yet, he’s lost his mind and heart along the way, consumed by drugs and alcohol, a shadow of his former self.

He drinks two bottles of whiskey before noon, lines up cocaine, hooks up with groupies, stumbles onto stage, botches lyrics, and passes out. Still, the crowd goes wild, mesmerized by his raw, sweaty performance with that guitar, leather pants, and bare chest, oblivious to the fact that he’s living—and possibly dying—the true rock 'n' roll lifestyle.

Chrissy Cunningham, a week away from marrying Jason Carver, hasn’t managed to move on. Even though she hasn’t heard from Eddie Munson in ten years and believes he abandoned her (not knowing all his songs are for her, or that her mother hid the 400 letters he sent, or that he only got rich to build the house she once dreamed of), she decides to go to Los Angeles to see an Overkill show at the Whisky a Go Go, hoping to catch a glimpse of her Eddie again. But all she finds is a bitter, drunk man —stupid and arrogant—who seems to despise her, or at least pretends to.

Because, oh, only he knows how she’s always been his one and only muse, even if it’s only in heartbreak.

He may be a rock star, but she’s his muse; he is the thunder, and she is the sun, and together they can’t coexist without chaos and beauty.

Because she is the muse. He’s just the rock star.

(...)

Chrissy couldn't take her eyes off Eddie's fingers on the guitar, the electric energy of his movements on stage, as if he owned the place. Every move he made, the way he looked at the audience, how he pressed his lips to the microphone and pushed the sweat-soaked hair off his face.

He sang and played the guitar at the same time, mesmerizing everyone.

Especially during the more intense and heavy songs, the way he ran around the stage holding the guitar, shaking his head and tossing his sweaty hair, then grabbing the microphone as if it were someone he deeply desired. The expression of pleasure on his face, mouth open and neck arched, as he hit a high note on the guitar. Everyone at this concert was spellbound by him.

Eddie pressed his lips to the microphone, closed his eyes, and his voice filled the room.

She wasn’t sure if it was an act, but she could see the desperation on his face as he sang each line. He was squinting and furrowing his brow throughout the song, as if it hurt.

"Don't you go and tell me that you love me while you're leavin' If you're gonna leave me for him now, oh"

He screamed the last lines with a hoarse, desperate voice into the microphone, gripping it with such force it seemed he would break the guitar and snap all the strings. The song ended, and the first thing he did was bend down and take another swig from the whiskey bottle.

Eddie played the opening riff of another song and let out a wild scream into the microphone before it began, all sweaty, hair sticking to his face, his chest glistening. With each song, another button of his shirt popped open.

“I wanna be the first man you look at tonight, I wanna drive you till the morning light, I wanna be a good man just to see you smile,” Eddie Munson pressed his lips to the microphone after the energetic opening riff, then calmed down, took his hands off the guitar, and tilted his sweaty neck a little as he sang in a raspy voice, as if kissing the microphone. “And I wanna swim between your thighs.” He opened his eyes just to smile at the microphone, a sideways grin that made half the girls scream, causing Chrissy's heart to drop to her legs and forcing her to sit on the speaker because her knees were trembling.

Eddie went back to strumming the guitar slowly, and then the whole sound exploded loudly and wildly alongside the drums as he shouted with such feeling and passion that his face turned red. “I wanna hold you in my arms tonight.”

And in the middle of that line, Eddie Munson opened his eyes and turned his neck slightly to look directly at the side of the stage, and for the first time in ten years, without dark sunglasses for protection, Eddie Munson looked at Chrissy Cunningham, and he felt his whole body heat up in that same instant, realizing that she was there.

“For your love I'll do whatever you want, I'll do whatever you want, for your love.” He sang each line of the chorus looking into her eyes, without looking away, long blonde hair styled perfectly, white dress hugging her perfect body, giant blue eyes devouring his, rosy, shiny lips slightly parted. Eddie gripped the microphone, thinking only, “fuck, she's still so fucking pretty.”

He stopped looking, walked over to the drums, opened a bottle of water, drank, and splashed the rest over himself, mixing water with sweat and sticking his shirt even more to his glistening skin. And Chrissy Cunningham didn’t even blink, still trembling with butterflies in her stomach after that look from him. That long gaze that caught her by surprise.

He was magnetic on that stage.

Eddie focused back on the music, closed his eyes, and gripped the guitar tightly as he sang with urgency and desperation into the microphone. “So baby why didn't you wait for me? I've got so much I can give to you now.”

Oh, darling, you’re too sweet for rock n roll, this one’s for you, all his songs is for you.

...

Chrissy felt like one of the girls at the front row when the eleventh song started playing, "The River." She loves this song; it’s one of her all-time favorites. Of course, she would never let Eddie know she likes one of his band's songs this much. She listened to it so much when it came out that the record got scratched.

She felt envy for the girls shouting and jumping, but of course, she would never give Eddie Munson that satisfaction. She remained still like a statue, singing internally.

“I could've sworn this was our way Tell me again, why do we stay On such a lonely, lonely, lonely road? You cast a spell on me So I can't forget you I know I could have loved you But you would not let me.”

Eddie sang, gripping the microphone, dripping with sweat, eyes closed, expressive as always.

“If I follow you to the river Send my blues out to the sea Will you stay with me forever? Will you chase me in my dreams? If I throw it all in the river And let the rhythm take the lead Will it stay with you and never Let you leave on me?”

He held the guitar with his big, strong arms while singing.

“You had a choice I couldn't make Give me your hand, here is my heart Ooh, I know, I know Ooh, I know.”

His raspy voice echoed throughout the place, especially in her chest, sending shivers down her spine. And in the last "ooh" before the bridge of the song, Eddie opened his eyes, turned his neck sideways, and looked at Chrissy Cunningham once again, in a white dress, her blonde hair blowing in the wind from the stage. He squinted, swallowed hard, rubbed his face, losing the rhythm of the song.

Eddie took the microphone in his hand, released it from the stand, and stopped playing the guitar, only singing, “I’m an echo in your shadow. In your shadow, I’m in too deep.” He walked across the stage, shouting the high parts of the song, eyes squeezed shut but moving toward the side of the stage. “In the river, your reflection.” He reached the side of the stage, getting closer to the speakers where Chrissy was leaning. “Is a promise you couldn't keep.” Eddie stepped over the drum wires, getting closer to her.

Chrissy froze, feeling her knees tremble when she realized Eddie was walking toward her.

She lost her breath. Her heart raced.

He was getting closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Heart racing, beating faster, almost exploding.

Chest rising and falling.

Oh my God, why is he coming over here? Is he coming over here? Yes, he is.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, almost about to burst out.

Closer.

She trembled.

He's here, in front of her.

In the middle of the show, Eddie Munson simply stopped in front of Chrissy Cunningham, microphone in hand, as if he were singing just for her.

Face to face. She could smell his cologne.

Chrissy was trembling, looking up at his face, but his hair was hiding his dark eyes.

And suddenly Eddie Munson pressed his face against hers, cheek to cheek, to the point where Chrissy felt all his hot sweat on her skin. “I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I lost you there,” he sang, the microphone pressed against both their mouths, so close that only he sang. She stood still, trembling, almost falling to the ground, so hot, pressed against him, feeling his guitar pressing into her stomach. “You know, you know, you know, you know, you know you brought me hell,” he sang, eyes closed, shouting, his voice desperate, full of emotion, so much emotion that his face was expressive, sweaty, and his brow furrowed. He sang with his cheeks pressed against hers, and Chrissy closed her eyes, sighing, breathless, so close, so warm, his scent, his touch, he was hot and wet, cheek to cheek, skin to skin, the cold microphone resting on her chin, his warm breath so close, their mouths so near, both with eyes closed. She felt his chest, felt the guitar pressing against her dress… so close, so pressed together that the sparkly makeup around Chrissy's eyes smudged all over his face. “This isn't fair,” Eddie sighed the last phrase before the guitar solo and then pulled away the microphone but didn’t step back.

He leaned in close to her blonde hair, whispering in her ear so only she could hear, with his usual raspy voice, “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to go away?” and then Eddie stepped back, moving away from her as if nothing had happened.

He returned to the center of the stage and played the entire guitar solo without even looking at her, as if she didn’t exist, as if his face wasn’t shining from her makeup, as if their arms hadn’t gotten goosebumps, as if they hadn’t closed their eyes at the same time when their cheeks touched.

Well, that was just a lil sneak peek! If you want to read the whole story (about 40 chapters), click here on my Wattpad :)

[tireddovahkiin]

IM SORRY guys, if you'll excuse me, I need to rant my heart out about my sweetheart bc I'm just so obsessed with his whole concept and existence as a whole character and omfg I love this man SO much.

With THAT said-

Let me introduce you to soundtrack that plays upon witnessing Sephiroths new form for the first time. AKA, as said in OG FF7, Bizarro Sephiroth.

OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.

(if you plan on listening it (PLEASE DO I BEG OF YOU), i recommend that you use headphones.)

It's starts so quietly, then it errupts into a whole triumphant-like symphony of instruments and voices, then quiets down again, into something more demonic, maybe. It's sounds out of this world, makes your skin errupt in goosebumps in both dread and awe. It REMINDS us of an angel, of something sacred, heavenly, and yet, far from such pure being. This song is a FLAWED type or ethereal.

It's supposed to trick us, into thinking, what really HAS he become? Alien? Angel? God? Spirit? Something else entirely? A mix of all those? We don't know. And THAT'S what's fucking amazing and terrifying.

Notice how the harmony is different than the usual, 'angelic' one? Now, I'm no musician or professional at that department, BUT, what I did notice, is that in order to depict something heavenly, composers use 'diatonic harmony', the harmonization of a piece of music using chords derived from the diatonic scale of a particular key.

But, what THIS melody uses, is a 'non-diatonic harmony': which is similar to diatonic harmony, when it come to the central scale of a song, but brings other notes from different scales outside of that main scale and can create tension within the overall structure of the song.

As one of descriptions of Bizarro Sephiroth say, he is "a resurrected being who now wields unimaginable might and commands the arbiters of fate. He seeks to pierce through the layers of existence, and reunite fragmented space-time. He shall rule over the planet and create eternity."

He DOES have a few attributes of an angel, but his overall form is described as 'grotesque'. A mutation of limbs, two heads, faces, pair of multiple wings, and the rest unknown. It is said that all those limbs even act independently of one another. It's origins are known to come from JENOVA, an extraterrestrial life-form from outer space, a calamity from the skies, who acts like a parasitic organism in nature. His beloved "mother". Main antagonist of the game.

His whole form is just... Colossal, which again, this song depicts PERFECTLY. You feel intimidated. But you're unsure, whether if it's positive or negative. If you should be scared for your life, or stop to gawk at whatever has appeared before you. We can recognize that it's Sephiroth, but BARELY. (Imagining you're in Clouds pants for a moment lmao)

Also, notice how his usual motives in songs that we hear in the game are COMPLETELY gone? Like, it's an ENTIRELY NEW THEME for him. No lyrics, the usual, "ESTUANS INTERIUS IRA VEHEMENTI!" or even the choir chanting his name. I don't think there's not even JENOVAS melody present. NONE of that is present. They just literally sing something original, unknown, I think it's latin? It would be even BETTER if it's not, aka if it's actual gibberish, an invented language.

And all those small effects in the background, makes it all the more creepier in a way. Because, we're not even certain if Sephiroth is himself or someone new entirely, since he evolved. (WHO'S THAT POKEMO- im joking Sephy please don't kill me PLE-)

(STOP he's so fucking beautiful...)

Perhaps he has become somehow independent of his mothers influence, that greed for power has gotten to him, got him blinded. Now he just wants to spread havoc for his own PERSONAL fulfilment and joy.

Imagine that YOUR fate is in hands of THIS motherfucker, at his complete mercy.

Not really the most reassuring feeling, now, is it, when you look at him. (speaking for YALLS behalf I love this form so much it's so underrated goddamn i would gladly sell my soul and give my fate to him i mean what who said that)

id like to kiss and hug him :3

Jokes aside, THIS SONG AWAKENS THE NASTIEST GOOSEBUMPS I'VE EVER GOTTEN IN MY LIFE EVERY DAMN TIME I LISTEN TO IT, NO MATTER HOW MANY TIMES I'VE PLAYED IT.

It legit makes PRIDE bloom inside my heart, even if it's NOT MY theme, LOL XD. It's just that powerful. I start smiling from ear to ear, close my eyes, soak in this whole experience of a song. Pity that is so short, I wish it was longer.

Square Enix, the company you are. You fucking deserve that award for the best game soundtrack of the year.

Because, god damn. I ascend to heaven when I listen to this.

IM SO IMPATIENT... When will they upload Rebirth soundtrack on Spotify I need it it's not normal😭

[dryad-lesbians]

lyrics under the cut for ref

1. My heart is a fish

Hiding in the water-grass

In the green, in the green.

2. It all goes around

It all goes around

The planet goes around the sun

It all goes around

My mother said it all goes around

It all goes around

The ship goes around the station

3. A thousand eggs all nice and warm

Crack, crack, crack, a little chick is born.

Peep peep peep peep! Peep peep peep peep!

Nine hundred and ninety nine eggs all nice and warm

Crack, crack, crack, a little chick is born.

Peep peep peep peep! Peep peep peep peep!

4. The person, the person, the person with weapons.

You should be afraid of the person with weapons. You should be afraid.

All around the cry goes out, put on armor made of iron.

The person, the person, the person with weapons.

You should be afraid of the person with weapons. You should be afraid.

5. Betrayer! Long ago we promised

To exchange equally, gift for gift.

Take this curse: What you destroy will destroy you.

6. One, two, my aunt told me

Three, four, the corpse soldier

Five, six, it'll shoot you in the eye

Seven, eight, kill you dead

Nine, ten, break it apart and put it back together.

7. Memory is an event horizon

What's caught in it is gone but it's always there.

or Bo decade's approximation:

Oh, tree! Eat the fish!

This granite folds a peach!

Oh, tree! Oh, tree! Where's my ass?

8. Death will overtake us

In whatever manner already fated

Everyone falls to it

And so long as I'm ready

I don't fear it

No matter what form it takes

9. I was walking, I was walking

When I met my love

I was in the street walking

When I saw my true love

I said, "She is more beautiful than jewels, lovelier than jade or lapis, silver or gold."

10. Jasmine grew

In my love's room

It twined all around her bed

The daughters have fasted and shaved their heads

In a month they will visit the temple again

With roses and camellias

But I will sustain myself

With nothing more than the perfume of jasmine flowers

Until the end of my life

11.Oh, have you gone to the battlefield

Armored and well-armed?

And shall dreadful events

Force you to drop your weapons?

12. Who only ever loved once?

Who ever said "I will never love once"

and kept their word?

[avatar-anna]

Idk if you like this concept but i can't stop thinking about harry with swiftie y/n who always sings London Boy to him. And likes to tease him about the fact that he dated Taylor

swiftie!y/n by @harrysfolklore is superior, but i did my best!

(also, i know london boy isn't actually about harry, he's just being a tease)

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“Hello everyone. My name is Y/n Y/l/n, but only because my boyfriend hasn't proposed to me yet.”

In the dim lighting, you could just make out Harry's figure at the back of the bar, where he promptly flipped you off. Laughing a bit, you continued.

“He told me we weren’t going home tonight until I got up here and performed, and while you are all a lovely bunch, I fear I am growing a little tired, so here I am.”

You and Harry were spending some time in Japan. Tokyo, to be exact. He'd just come off his first solo tour, and you both thought it would be nice to get away for a little while. He liked Japan, and you had never been, so it was perfect.

In the few weeks of being in Japan, you and Harry frequented a couple of places, one of which was a karaoke bar a few blocks from the apartment you were staying at. It was all locals and the two of you, but everyone was welcoming, especially when Harry started doing rounds of sake and getting on the small stage to perform here and there. You were content to watch, though Harry tried multiple times to get you to at the very least join him. And now that it was nearing the end of your stay, he was pressing a little harder.

So now you were on the stage with a microphone in your hand, trying not to look at anyone for too long.

“You got this, babe!” Harry shouted from his seat, resting his fingers in his mouth to blow a sharp whistle.

“Thank you,” you said. “This song goes out to my boyfriend, my London boy. And Taylor Swift, who I am forever grateful to for breaking up with my boyfriend so that I could have him one day, and I hope she'll follow me on Instagram one day so we can become best friends and dress up as Charlie’s Angels together for Halloween.”

You weren’t typically the kind of person that over shared, but it took a good amount of alcohol to get a microphone in your hands, and you tended to share a little too much about yourself when you were drunk.

Harry gave you a thumbs up as the music started, and since you called Taylor Swift “mother” on a regular basis, you didn't really need the words on the screen to help you along.

“We can go drivin' in, on my scooter. Uh, you know, just riding in London. Alright. I love my hometown as much as Motown, I love SoCal. And you know I love Springsteen, faded blue jeans, Tennessee whiskey...”

It was safe to say that you loved Taylor Swift. You grew up with her music, each album speaking to the different phases of your life as you went through them. Her music, her lyrics, the stories she told...you just understood all of it, you felt understood by her songs.

Meeting Harry, falling in love with him, it was all chance. He came into the clothing store you worked at, and you only recognized him as the guy from that boy band who dated Taylor Swift (which you did not tell him until much, much later). But he took you by surprise. His hair was long and his smile was shy but kind, and instead of talking about clothing suggestions like you were paid to do, he asked about you, and you asked about him, and instead of walking out with shopping bags, he left with your number, and the rest was history.

You never really expected to fall in love with Harry. Honestly, you thought he would forget about asking for your number. But he texted you a couple hours after you met, and you stayed up almost all night talking about whatever popped into your heads. He made his interest in you quite obvious, so there was never a period where friendship became more, but you still considered him your best friend. You were just two young people in love and experiencing the world together, and you wouldn't have wanted anyone else by your side.

Harry knew now what a fan of Taylor Swift you were, courtesy of a night where you had a little too much to drink and accidentally showed him a picture of a teenage you dressed in a “You Belong With Me” costume at one of her concerts.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“So, you’re a fan, are you?” he asked.

“That might be an understatement,” you told him, crawling into his lap. “You should know, if I believed in hall passes...”

Harry bursted out laughing, throwing his head back as you giggled with him. You thought he might be put off by your love for your favorite artist, but when he sobered up, he kissed the top of your head and said, “Noted. I’m very thankful that you don't believe in hall passes then.”

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.**.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

“You know I love a London boy, I enjoy walking Camden Market in the afternoon. He likes my American smile. Like a child when our eyes meet, darling, I fancy you...”

You were no performer, but you did your best, skipping between tables and trying your hardest not to sound horrible. You tried not to look at Harry too, because you knew he would be smiling no matter how good or bad you were, and you needed to make it through the song without getting flustered.

However, as the song came to a close, you went over to where he was and planted yourself on his lap, singing the last few lines just to him.

You could tell he was a little drunk too. His green eyes hooded as he smiled down at you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, and his grip on your waist made it hard to focus, but you managed to make it to the end of the song before kissing him.

His lips tasted like alcohol and the lip balm he kept in his pocket at all times. You held the sides of his face in your hands, thumbs rubbing at his temples as the patrons of the bar applauded your big finale. Eventually you pulled away to give the microphone back to the person in charge of the karaoke machine, but Harry didn't let you get far, his arms circling around your waist and holding you close.

“Let’s go home,” he mumbled as the next person got ready to perform.

“Can we grab something to eat on the way back? That left me starving. I don't know how Taylor does it.”

Harry chuckled as he stood up from his seat, leaving a couple bills on the bar before taking your hand in his as the two of you walked out into the chilly night air. “I perform too, you know.”

“I know, but she has these huge dance numbers too. It must be exhausting.”

“Are you saying I need dance numbers in my performances now?” he asked, but he knew you were joking around. He was a close second in your list of favorite artists, and he was well aware of that.

You shook your head, shivering a little as the wind picked up. Harry pulled you close, resting an arm over your shoulders. You wrapped your arms around his middle as you walked, pressing your cheek against his chest and savoring the warmth emanating from him.

You were both quiet as you walked down the street, content to just be next to each other. Until,

“You know I’m not from London, though, right?”

“Oh, I know. But Holmes Chapel boy doesn't have the same ring to it!”

Harry leaned down to brush his lips against yours. It was short and sweet and perfect, his most nudging yours as he pulled back just a little. “You’re right. I’ll have to give her a ring about that.”

“You have her number?”

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Scared Of My Guitar — Luke Hughes

Summary; In which you and Luke both come to terms that your situation is wrong but neither of you can let go.

Content Warning; pure sadness(not really angst) , situation-ship, use of the names Jules, Parker, Katya and Bailee. Readers pov is with the pink lyrics, Luke is with the red.

Pairing; Music Major Reader & UMich Luke

Perfect, easy, so good to me. So why’s there a pit in my gut in the shape of you?

Part of you growing up believed you were unlovable. You were an only child to two busy parents. Your mother was a criminal defense attorney and your father was a renowned neurosurgeon. So a lot of your childhood was being raised by your babysitters over the years. Throughout high school you never had relationships, not because you didn’t want to but because it seemed that no one wanted to have a relationship with you.

So meeting Luke your freshman year at University of Michigan and being oddly pulled to him terrified you. By then you had ultimately decided that you had little to no interest in being someone’s girlfriend. And contrary to your sorority sisters Jules and Parker, that never changed when you started whatever you and Luke were doing. Part of you yearned for a relationship especially watching your best friend Kayta and her boyfriend JJ and Bailee and Ethan have perfect relationships.

But whenever you thought of being someone’s girlfriend it made you nauseous. You just had no interest of being anyone’s girlfriend. And everything someone called you Luke’s girlfriend a doomed feeling arose in your chest.

Barely sleep when you’re sleeping next to me.

Early into whatever you and Luke had started after hooking up in the bathroom at one of the many parties that Rutger and Luca had thrown, you guys began to frequent each other’s beds. You loved your room it was your safe place. You absolutely loved being in your bed. But oddly enough whenever Luke slept over you found it impossible to get to sleep.

You felt like you were being a horrible person, you felt like you were giving to less to Luke than he was giving to you. You were worried that your inability to desire a relationship would somehow hurt Luke so you just kept your mouth shut. Even when it caused you to lose sleep over.

But I’m so scared of my guitar cause it cuts right through to the heart.

You had been cleaning your room up before Luke was coming over for the weekend and you ran your fingers across your guitar, pulling away with dust covered fingers. You had been avoiding using your guitar because your music came from the heart and you were unsure you wanted to voice how you truly were feeling about your situation with Luke.

I can’t lie to it the same way I lie to you

You and Luke had been lying in your bed later that night watching Suits on your tv when Luke spoke, “You should come to the lake house with me this summer. My brothers can’t wait to meet you.” Your eyes darted to your guitar absentmindedly before you smiled softly as Luke looked up at you and you lied straight through your teeth, “Of course I will. That sounds so fun.” Luke hummed as you massaged his scalp lightly, “I’m glad you think so.”

I’m so scared of my guitar if I play it, then I’ll think too hard

Luke had gone to Vancouver with his parents and Jack for Quinn’s birthday so you had a little bit of free time to yourself to be in your head. You sat cross legged on your bedroom floor with your acoustic guitar resting on your lap. You had been brainstorming a song for your spring showcase and it was not going well when Luke was around. He sort of fogged up your musical thought process.

You picked up the guitar and began to strum the cords at random until you felt your cheeks dampen with tears. You set it on the floor beside you and pressed your back against your bed and let the tears stream down your face, not having the energy to fight them back. You barely lifted your head when your bedroom door creaked open. Katya popped her head in and her facial features softened when she noticed you were crying, “Oh baby, are you okay?” You shook your head and sniffled, “I don’t think so. I just don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Katya sat on the floor beside you and pulled you into a heartfelt embrace, “Nothing is wrong with you sweet girl. Do you want me to call Luke?” You shook your head, “No he’s on his way back from his brothers. I don’t wanna bother him”

So I lay in your arms and pretend that it’s love.

Luke had come straight to your place after he left the airport. He had brought you one of your favorite snacks that you’d mentioned liking when you had met early on. You should have melted inside when he did but you didn’t. Luke had sworn up and down that all he wanted to do for the night was just hold you because he missed his girl. So you let him, you laid in his arms in your bed as Tangled played from your laptop. That had been the only time you had ever in any way convinced yourself that you could love being Luke Hughes’ girlfriend one day

If I was brave and noble like you I’d have the nerve to just stop stringing you along.

Luke wasn’t a bad person by any means, but the relationship or lack of made him feel like he was. It wasn’t that he intentionally started the situation with you with the intention of it not working. He just wanted his brothers to stop bothering him about not being over his ex. And then he met you. You were simple to know and easy to love. Luke would admit he had grown to love you over the year and half you two had been involved.

But he was never in love with you. He loved you because you were funny, he loved you because you watched the same tv shows as him, he loved you because he could beat you in a video game and the next round you’d beat him, he loved you because you were a good friend. Loving you as his friend was easy, he would truthfully call you his best friend. But he never saw you and him being together romantically in a serious relationship.

I’d rather be tied to someone, even if they’re wrong.

But you and Luke fell into the groove of being slightly more than friends but way less than a relationship. You guys would hold hands, go on dates, sleep together and everything in between. But you two were never going to be in a relationship. And Luke was okay with that until his mother invited the both of you to the lake house for the entire summer. And when he asked you about it you agreed a little too quickly. So Luke was sure to make it known to you that you were not his girlfriend.

But when that summer came and you joined him at the lake house and meshed perfectly with everyone in his life, he knew he had made a mistake bringing you. You and his mother had shopped for linens and you had won her over by purchasing what she had picked out instead of letting her. You had won his father over by offering to man the grill and when the steaks turned out better than when his father made them, Jim had asked you to come back every summer. You’d win Jack and Trevor over by beating both of them in beer pong multiple times. You had won Quinn over by your infatuation with working out, none of the other inhabitants of the lake house were up at 4 am going to the gym besides you and Quinn. So two ended up going together every morning for the remainder of the summer.

But despite his entire family adoring you, Luke still wasn’t seeing you in a romantic way. But he wasn’t going to give up what he had to try and find something else.

Say that I’m fine, I tell them all the time as they watch all the light fade away.

Luke’s teammates had begun to notice something was off with Luke following that summer. He had grown irritable and easy to piss off. He had always been spending less time with you. His friends had asked him if he was okay and they always received the same answer, a grumbled out ‘I’m fine.’ They were in no way believing it but they knew better than to push any further.

Cause what if I never find anything better?

Following summer Luke had been conflicted. You were everything a guy could ever dream of. So why wasn’t Luke in love with you? You were smart, kind, funny, good with kids, parents loved you, and you were easily jaw dropping stunning. Luke felt bad keeping you to himself when he wasn’t in love but how would he find anyone better than you?

So we’ll stay together cause how could I ever trade something that’s good for what’s right

So he kept his mouth shut and kept whatever you had going on. He didn’t want to trade a perfectly good friendship with things you’d have in a relationship, for what could have been. He didn’t want to take that chance.

I let the thought in, it’s already done.

Summer had changed everything for you. You fell in love with Luke’s family and Luke himself. He had such a welcoming family who made you truly feel like you were a part of something. You and Luke were laying in his bed, you were sure Luke was asleep. It was 3:02 in the morning. He had to be, he was laying in your arms. You whispered through the darkness secretly hoping Luke heard you, “I’m in love with you Luke Hughes.” You had closed your eyes after and were met with silence like you always were. “Yeah me too.” Oh..

Yeah I lay in your arms and pretend it’s enough.

Luke closed his eyes as he could feel the vibe in his bedroom shift. He was pretending to be asleep to avoid any confrontation with you. Your soft voice filled his ears, “I’m in love with you Luke Hughes.” He should have felt something right?