#reference to past suicidality forever ago

[chadgamer]

been doing a lot of Thinking about my Negative Life Experiences recently and am just going to dump some thoughts I’m having here for lack of a better place to put them. my boyfriend is fishing up north out of cell service range so other than just saying this all to him blog is the next best thing I think

so. lot of therapists I’ve seen (and I’ve been to a Lot of different therapists, I like to change it up) have tried to do parts work with me, and I’ve always really struggled with it. not because it hasn’t been helpful for me, or because I struggle to identify my distinct internal voices, but because for the life of me whenever anyone wants to talk to or do anything with my “child part” or “inner child” or whatever you want to call it, I come up empty. I’ve also always felt uncomfortable when other people age regress for fun or as a coping mechanism - I don’t want to feel that way, it’s not a conscious judgement, it’s just made me feel alienated and strange about myself

and for a while i thought this was just a blocker for me because of how uncomfortable connecting with that part of myself is. but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I realize it’s weird for me because of how actively connected I am with myself as a little kid and all my feelings I had then. I feel and think a lot of the same things. I’ve had some dissociated periods in my life for sure, but I feel like me now and child me belong to one continuous life experience, and that it’s kind of absurd to try and identify a separate “child self” when I literally remember being that guy

another part of this is like. my childhood was not at any point like, some perfect island of joy and naïveté and innocence. my earliest memories are feeling overwhelmingly guilty and afraid. the earliest emotions i felt were some of the worst in my life. never once even when i was going through any other horrible shit did i ever think “man wish i could go back to before all this, when i was a kid and things were easy” things were fucking bad when I was a kid. yes my various other life experiences have been materially worse but nothing could ever ever feel as bad as when I wanted to die when I was 5.

I’ve never even really felt truly suicidal since then because I’ve never felt that Trapped. no one could ever feel as trapped as a very small child alone in the only house they remember locked in the only room they remember. every other shit situation I’ve been in I’ve always had some other out that I could and did take at some point. I think a lot of the intense joy i now take in being alive is just how amazing it feels to be in control of how I live and what I do and who I’m around as an adult. the agency and freedom is exhilarating

but yeah it’s been like of weird reckoning with it all. it’s a hard to recognize when your early life experiences are meaningful and foundational to your unique traits when they’re like, the easiest things in the world to take for granted bc they’re the foundations of your whole perspective on yourself and everything around you. It’s been a big struggle chewing through all this but I think I’m kind of finally starting to learn how to be happy

[project-sekai-facts]

Hey I've been wondering, could you explain Akito and his death symbolism? It's been constantly mentioned or implied in his recent focus songs and VBS covers (getting lines about "death" or "dying" and the likes)

It's just because the fandom is using that to mischaracterize him as an overly depressed and suicidal guy (another Mafuyu copy; pls save him and Tsukasa) and I just don't think that's what the writers mean to say and the point of his whole character!!!

(prefacing this: I'm aware there was a thread about this going round twitter a while ago, I haven't read it specifically because of this ask and if anything is the same that wasn't intentional and I apologise)

A large part of Akito's character arc is his difficulty with improvement and his sheer determination and passion that goes alongside it. He had always viewed his lack of natural talent and unrefined skills as something that made him inferior, which only led to him pushing himself to his extremes, and trying to face things independently and head-on. This is something that's touched on heavily in the STRAY BAD DOG event, where we get to see him learn to rely on his teammates more and realise that he isn't alone. Find A Way Out continues his arc of personal development, with him realising he's actually not so different to the people he looks up to, and finally learning to accept and feel confident with his improvement instead of just pushing forward almost desperately. It's that idea of him finally realising that he won't always be a step behind everyone else and good things are actually coming with his hard work.

Building off that idea, it's like a sort of rebirth. And that's where the links to Kashika come in. Kashika is a song about death and longing which gets horribly misinterpreted and has led people to believe Akito is suicidal which is simply untrue. The thing that's dying in this context is Akito's old self. The child who had no talent and was falling so far behind everyone. The child who worked so, so, so hard to be perfect is dying. And that sounds like a negative thing but it's really not. It's a metaphor for Akito reflecting on himself and moving on from the past and breaking new ground.

The 2DMV adds another layer to this with its marigolds, which not only symbolise death, but also can symbolise a renewal. And in this case, renewal refers to Akito's growth following the events of FAWO. He finally faced up to his past mistakes and overcame them, but even then he won't let himself feel relief. It's only with the help of Taiga's story about Ken that he's finally able to be more satisfied with himself and how far he's managed to come. He's finally able to break out from that belief that he's forever going to be stuck behind, and he's able to have faith in himself. Realising that Ken was just like him and managed to get to such a high level of skill and be so respected by those around him finally lets Akito believe that he too can reach that same light.

The butterflies in the background again symbolise renewal or transformation. It's not about death as per se, it's about change. Change and growth and transformation are recurring themes in prsk's character writing, and Akito is no exception. While on a surface level, Kashika is about death, if you put it next to the story, it's about regeneration. Akito is moving forward and leaving the old him behind, he says as much in the FAWO story.

If you actually read the lyrics to Kashika, it's genuinely kinda shocking to me how much people misinterpret its connection to Akito as a character. Like I get the song talks about death a lot and wanting to die, but particularly in these extracts you can see some of the key points of the FAWO event - Akito's determination, passion and self-acceptance. It's a song about Akito growing up, physically and emotionally, and saying goodbye to his past self.

Now as anon pointed out, the marigolds previously appeared in his card from Light Up The Fire. And while in the case of this event, it was most likely drawn to connect with the story surrounding Nagi's death, but it's worth mentioning that every character had their own flower, so the marigolds are specific to him.

As I mentioned in today's fact, aside from being associated with death, grief, and mourning, marigolds can also have positive connotations of optimism and passion based on their warm and vibrant colors. One of the key elements of LUTF was despair and grief, shown through more ways than one. Whilst the truth of Nagi's death came as a shock to the VBS and the others, the following battle with Taiga crushed their hope to the point that everyone except VBS gave up. VBS decides to keep trying for Nagi, and again there's that idea of a renewal. They know the truth now, and are going to come back and get better. Now while this is more general about VBS, the marigolds are still specific to Akito, considering how he's always been the most determined one who has taught himself that the only way he can succeed is through sheer perseverance. Whilst it applies to all of VBS in this instance, it applies even moreso to him.

Also it leads very nicely into his fes card story, which follows after the events of LUTF from his point of view. Something notable about his fragment sekai is that it's a completely barren wasteland. It's dead. And to top it all off, he gets amnesia. However the whole point of his sekai is to remind him of his determination, remind him that he has never once given up on this dream, how he's fought and fought to hold onto it and shouldn't let what happened with Taiga and the truth behind RW strike him down. Despite the area being dead and barren, and despite the fact he can't even remember who he is at all, he still pushes forwards and keeps walking through the dangerous environment because he knows he can't just sit around, he knows he has to do something. He knows it's not a choice, it's a necessity for him to persevere, even if he can't remember why. In the end he does remember, and finds a single flower that is managing to flourish despite the harsh conditions, and he even compares himself to it because truthfully they're one in the same. Even in a hopeless situation, Akito manages to pull through. In a metaphorical sense, he can't truly die, he still finds a way to thrive even if the world is against him. His determination truly is the core of his character.

And that leads us nicely to BURN MY SOUL, which I would consider to be the end of his first character arc. Despite having learnt a lesson about his true strength and potential in FAWO, he still hasn't reached that full potential, and he still believes that he needs to keep pushing and keep working. Through Ken's advice, he's able to realise that he's been so focused on perfection that he's bottling up all the passion inside of him. Because he's so passionate about music and it's this passion that fuels his resolve that is ultimately his core, his soul. And especially after everything that's happened, the fact that there's still a lingering sense of despair after the incident with Taiga, he needs to truly let that passion burn and realise that his true potential has been inside of him all along. His role as assigned by Ken is to light up a fire amongst the people again, so he let's the fire within him burn freely for the first time, and it works exactly as needed and is able to rekindle hope throughout the town and in one of his teammates.

Back to that idea about how metaphorically Akito cannot die, I really like the symbolism of fire within VBS and Akito in particular because it's framed in such a way that the fire lit by RW is a flame that can't burn out. Even with things such as CRaZY's "I'm so ready to die" and the "I'm going to pry it open like I'm going to die" voiceline that plays when you pull his WL card, it's not meant in such a way that he wants to die, but in a way that he's going to put his all into it as if it is the last thing he'll ever do. Akito doesn't want to die, he wants to live to see things through to the end. He's too determined to let anything snuff out his flame, and even then that makes me think of the original usage of snuffing out a flame, which was actually to trim the wick so the flame could burn brighter. If you care enough about that dumb candle analogy, you could say that Taiga/the events of LUTF tried to extinguish Akito's flame, only for him to come back from the dead (and quite literally considering the wasteland in his fes card), and now he's only burning brighter and stronger.

Akito's death symbolism isn't a negative thing. Akito isn't someone who wants to die, he's too determined to die. No matter how much the universe tells him to give up he'll never stop pushing and never stop breaking down the walls around him until he sees his dreams through. All his death symbolism is equally tied to the idea of rebirth or even just living. Kashika is about him leaving his past behind and moving forward, his fes card is about his passion counteracting despair, and Burn my soul/CRaZY/Break down the wall are all about him being so fired up that he's going to act as if it's his final day. He's learning to be satisfied with his life and where he is. He's ready to live and to say he wants to die is a great injustice to his character arc.

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: things between you and your mom escalate and you make the impulsive decision to move in with your online friend who saves your life and shines like the brightest star... pairing: seonghwa x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut; online friends to roommates+lovers warnings: swearing, mommy issues, suicidal thoughts, insecurities, crying, pet names, eating out, blowjob, protected sex, praise kink, mommy kink, one (1) bad star wars joke, the nbhd references, subspace (kinda?), lowkey possessive hwa, one bed trope (but there is a couch, they just ignore it) author's note: this is incredibly personal and i felt so vulnerable while writing it but i better post it real quick before i chicken out 🙃 the title is inspired by the neighbourhood's daddy issues (remix) even though reader has mommy issues lol word count: 4.3k

You are cooped up in your room, physically shaking. You have no tears left to cry so you are laughing hysterically at the absurdity of it all. You were so tired of it. You love your mom, you really do. You would never do anything to harm her. But you are absolutely sick of the way she was treating you. Always belittling your interests, not letting you go out past a certain hour even though you were old enough to do so, yelling at you for the smallest mistakes, suffocating you with her unrealistic expectations, saying you were stupid and would never amount to anything if it hadn't been for her strict parenting style, even though you had practically sacrificed your mental health and social life to get high grades. And whenever you brought up all the ways in which she'd hurt you, she would try to gaslight you and pull shit like: "I never said that." "You're being overdramatic." "You're so ungrateful." All your friends said you deserved better. They tried their best to support you emotionally. But words could only do so much. You need out. If you stayed another moment in this toxic environment, you felt like you would do something terrible to yourself. Something there was no coming back from.

The only person you feel like talking to right now was your online friend Seonghwa. You'd met him on a Star Wars forum eight months ago and you'd been talking to each other pretty much every free minute. He was your light in the darkness and brought you so much happiness you couldn't remember what your life before him had been like. He always knew just what to say and comforted you like nobody else could. And when you didn't feel like talking, he distracted you successfully by organizing streaming sessions for the two of you. He is, for lack of a better word, perfect. There is only one downside. He lives thousands of kilometres away from you.

You: Talk to me. About anything. Please? Starshine98: What happened??? You: I don't wanna talk about it. I don't even wanna think about it. Starshine98: Got it. Your mom, right? You: Is my tragic existence so transparent? Starshine98: Whatever she said, you know it's not your fault. You: I know. But Hwa…it hurts so much I feel like dying. I can't do this anymore. Starshine98: Don't say that. You are so important to me. And to your friends. And to your mom, as well, even if she has a messed up way of showing it. You: Still….I need to get out of here as soon as possible but I can't do that without getting a stable job first. And it's so hard to find one. Starshine98: What if you came to live with me? My apartment has enough space for two… You: You live across the world? I can't even afford a plane ticket. Starshine98: Don't worry about money, I'll send you an E-ticket. You: I can't ask you to do that… Starshine98: You're not asking, I'm offering. You're going through something traumatic and you obviously need a change of scenery. I'm not asking you to stay with me forever, just for as long as you need to take care of your mental health. Just say the word and I'll buy the ticket. You: This is far too generous of you. Starshine98: I'm not as selfless as you think. I'm so worried about your well-being that keeping an eye on you myself would help me sleep better at night. You: Sweet. Starshine98: So? What do you say? You: Fuck it. Let's do this.

A couple of minutes later you receive a digital plane ticket from Seonghwa. The feeling of staring at it is so surreal you feel like you might pass out. You quickly pack only the bare essentials into a bag and scribble a letter to your parents. You know your mom will be furious and your dad will be worried sick but still, you want to leave the apartment while she's still asleep to avoid the confrontation. This is the best decision you could have possibly made in this situation. And for the first time in forever, you are finally doing something impulsive, something crazy without asking for permission. And damn, does it make you feel alive.

As you get off the plane, your eyes scan the airport for Seonghwa. You debate turning on your phone but then you would be faced with missed calls from your parents and right now, you are not ready to face the reality of what you've done. Luckily enough, you quickly spot a large sign with your name on it. It's him! You rush through the crowd and directly into his arms. He drops the sign in disbelief and gives you the tightest hug possible. This is insane. You can't believe you're actually here.

"Hi, sweet girl," Seonghwa says and his voice sound even lovelier than during the video chats you've had with him.

"Hi, starshine," you chuckle nervously.

"How was your flight?" he asks.

"Couldn't wait for it to be over," you admit.

"Yeah? You wanted to see me that bad?" Hwa teases you.

"More like couldn't wait to visit Seoul," you joke. "Go sightseeing."

"Sorry to disappoint but I'm taking you home first."

Home. You liked the sound of that.

"This is my room, this is the living room, this is the kitchen and this is the bathroom. Any questions?" Seonghwa inquires after he's done showing you around his apartment.

"Um, not to sound ungrateful but…where will I…you know, sleep?" you ask.

"My room, obviously. I'll take the couch in the living room," Hwa shrugs.

"What? No, Hwa, I can't…this is your apartment. I would feel so guilty I wouldn't fall asleep at all."

"Do you have another suggestion?"

"Duh! I will sleep on the couch!"

Seonghwa shakes his head, visibly distressed by the idea.

"It's pretty cold in the living room. You'll be more comfortable in my room."

"Well…we could share the bed, then? You do have a king size. If…that's okay with you."

"Are you sure?" Hwa wants to know.

You nod without thinking too much into it.

"You're my best friend and I just moved across the world. Sharing a bed with you does not worry me."

"Alright. Let me know if you need anything, I'll try to get it for you."

"Right now I just need a hug."

Seonghwa abides by your wishes and soon enough, the two of you find yourselves cuddling under the warm blanket. Minutes later you are crying and spilling the beans about your latest fight with your mom. When you tell him the whole story, he feels like throwing up.

"H-how could she say that to her own d-daughter?" Hwa stammers in disbelief.

You notice tears falling down his beautiful cheeks and trace a finger against his skin.

"Honestly? I'm kinda used to it. But it was so bad I couldn't take it anymore."

"You're not supposed to. You're a literal angel, I don't understand her behaviour at all."

You give him a sad smile.

"I'm not a saint, either. I mean, I've kept secrets from her and stuff. I just wish things could get resolved by communicating but she always refuses to hear my side of the story."

"The only reason why you've kept secrets was to protect your sanity. She's being unreasonable for not letting you follow your passions. What kind of a parent would say such harmful things?"

"Right?" you laugh bitterly. "You get me like no one else."

Seonghwa strokes your hair lovingly and kisses your forehead.

"My darling girl. You deserve so much better."

"Sometimes I wish you were my mom," in a moment of intense vulnerability, you murmur without thinking but the words are already out of your mouth and it's too late to take them back.

"W-what?" Hwa appears taken aback.

"S-sorry, I don't know what's gotten into me," you cover your face with your hands.

"Say it again. Please."

You take a peek nervously. His reaction is not one of disgust as you feared but rather…curiosity?

"I wish you were my mom," you repeat, your cheeks flushed with color.

"Do you know what I'd do if I were your mom?" Seonghwa asks.

You shake your head, desperately needing to hear what he's thinking.

"If you were my little girl, I'd do whatever I could do to keep you safe and protect you, make sure no one could hurt you, least of all me. I'd let you follow your passions. If you went out at night, I'd be worried sick, of course, but I'd be happy you're having fun with your friends. I'd tell you I'm proud of you no matter what grades you got. If you kept secrets from me, I wouldn't yell at you, but I'd ask myself what I did wrong. You know why? Because I trust you. And I care about you so deeply that I'd like to win your trust, too."

Your vision is blurry with tears. You feel like Hwa just fixed something he didn't break. Whatever he has to offer, you want all of it.

"I'd like that very much."

"You'd let me take care of you? Call you mine?" Seonghwa needs to know.

"Yes, please."

"My precious girl," he purrs in your ear.

"Hwa…just to be clear, what does that make us?" you ask, confused about the line between friendship and…whatever this is.

"What do you want us to be? Girlfriend and boyfriend? Daughter and…mom? Friends with benefits?"

You chuckle at the variety of labels he suggests.

"I think I'd like to be your girlfriend. If you'll have me," you blink, suddenly feeling insecure. You don't have much to offer. But whatever little you have, you're willing to give to him.

"I will. And I'd be honoured to be your boyfriend."

You bury your head into his chest, overwhelmed with positive feelings and excitement for the future that awaits the two of you.

"Let me take you out on a date tomorrow. But first, you need sleep."

"Okay, mom," you laugh wholeheartedly. "Will you sing me a lullaby?"

"Anything for my best girl," Seonghwa promises.

The following day he takes you to a really lovely date at a local restaurant and treats you so well, like no one else before in your life. You feel so blessed and lucky to have met him that there are not enough words to describe how grateful you are to him. Not just for letting you move in with him without expecting anything in return (though that was an immensely generous gesture on his side). The reason you are grateful the most is that he accepts you with all your flaws and scarred past, he shows you such understanding and care you have only dreamed about. He is truly your shining star guiding your path through the dark and into the light.

In the evening, you finally muster up the courage to turn on your phone. You call your dad and with tears in your eyes, explain the circumstances around your latest fight with your mom and why you decided to move in with Seonghwa. Your dad is worried, of course, but he says he gets why you did it, as he has witnessed some encounters when your mom has said hurtful things to you. Though he has not explicitly stood up for you, in your private conversations, he has shown you support and eagerly awaited the day you were independent from her. He tells you your mom was furious at first but now she is just…sad. You promise you will talk to her when you feel ready but for the time being, you need some space. Your dad respects your decision and you hang up.

"You did well," Seonghwa praises you, enveloping you in a warm hug.

"Thanks," you whisper sadly.

"Shall we go to bed?" he asks.

"Aw, man, I was in such a hurry to pack that I forgot my favourite frog plushie!" you exclaim in annoyance. "I can't sleep without it."

"Last night you had no trouble falling asleep, though?" Seonghwa gently reminds you.

"You're right!" you cry out in amazement.

"I'll get you a million plushies tomorrow but for now you'll have to settle for me."

"You know what? You're more than enough. You're my favourite plushie from now on!" you smile, wrapping your arms around his waist.

You've had the happiest week of your life. Seonghwa shows you around the city, taking you to adorable cafés, sightseeing and eating ramen by the Han river. The two of you take tons of pictures together and spend a lot of quality time. He even introduces you to his friend San and convinces him to let you work at his bookshop, which is honestly a dream job.

One morning, you wake up feeling uncharacteristically hot. Something hard is pressed against your ass. Could that be…You freeze at the realization. You wonder whether to rush out of bed. But then you risk Seonghwa waking up and you don't want him feeling embarrassed over something completely natural. You could pretend you're still asleep? But your breathing is too irregular and your skin is practically on fire. What should you do? Before you can make up your mind, you feel Seonghwa shifting behind you and the space has never felt emptier.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles sleepily.

"What are you sorry for?" you ask even though the answer is quite apparent.

"For…you know, getting hard."

"It's fine, it's a normal human reaction."

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or objectified. I mean…you are hot and I've obviously thought about you before in impure ways but…I like you so much I don't want you to feel pressured or anything. You're incredibly special to me, baby."

You finally turn around to face him.

"You are the most precious person in my life, Seonghwa," you whisper. "And like, if you want me, I'm all yours. No pressure."

"But…wouldn't you want to wait longer?" he asks cautiously.

"Whenever you want, my star," you smile eagerly, hoping he takes the bait.

"Fuck it," Hwa mutters under his breath and crashes his lips into yours.

You kiss him back impatiently and bury your fingers into his soft hair. He pulls you closer to him by the waist, digging his fingers into your lower back.

"If you want to stop at any moment, just let me know, okay?" Seonghwa breaks the kiss to reassure you.

You are so touched by his words that tears are already welled up in your eyes.

"Okay. Same goes for you."

"Trust me, darling, I wouldn't want to stop," Hwa promises and buries his head into your neck, inhaling the scent of you.

He spends a long time pressing kisses everywhere he could think of: your neck, your cheeks, your hair, your nose, your collarbones, your tummy, your ears, your thighs until finally, he reaches your pussy. Guiding your legs apart with a gentle but firm hand, you are afraid of melting right there. He eats you out hungrily, his ridiculously long tongue doing wonders to your senses. Needing something to hold on to, you tug on his hair, hopeful that you are not hurting him. He starts making circular motions, increasing the pleasure. It does not take you long to finish, completely falling apart.

"I think I just died a little," you admit, laughing.

"Well, the French did call it la petite mort," Seonghwa shrugs.

"Ah, yes. The little death," you smile, fondly recalling your French classes. "I wouldn't be a good guest if I didn't return the favour, no?"

You wrap your lips around the head of his cock, looking up at him to see if you're doing a good job.

"You're not a guest. I want you to feel at home," Seonghwa says and you try to take him deeper into your mouth. "You don't have to- Oh!"

You smirk as you swirl your tongue against his cock, doing your best to bring him closer to the edge.

"Such a good girl. My girl, yes?" he murmurs.

You can't verbablly respond so you nod your head frantically. Your hand is wrapped around the part of him you can't physically fit in and you blink the tears away, attempting to focus on breathing through your nose. You move your head and up down, desperately staring into his eyes to make sure he's enjoying every second of it. Soon enough, he reaches his high, sending ropes of cum down your throat. You try to swallow, not waste any drop of it.

Seonghwa strokes your cheek with his hand.

"You did so great for me," he praises you and you feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

"T-thank you," you stutter nervously.

"You don't have to thank me," Seonghwa chuckles in confusion and flips you around so that you are lying on your back. He leans down and kisses you again even more sensually than before but with as much tenderness. "You wanna stop?"

"No, please, don't stop," you are not too proud for begging.

"M'kay, lemme just grab protection real quick and I'll be back," he grins.

"Oh, I feel quite protected with you by my side, but I get what you mean," you tease him, excited to take the next step in your relationship.

True to his promise, Hwa returns moments later, flexing a condom in his hand.

"Protection," he repeats in a cute voice, while he puts it on.

"And here I thought you were gonna show me your lightsaber," you joke.

Seonghwa dramatically places a hand on his heart, feigning offense.

"I already did," he plays along and you can't stop yourself from bursting into laughter.

God, he really is the best guy in the universe. Your thoughts are further confirmed when he slowly teases your entrance with just the tip, making sure you are okay.

"You good? Should I go deeper?"

"Hwa, my angel, you can do anything to me and chances are I'd like it," you reassure him confidently.

"Careful what you wish for," Seonghwa smirks and slides in, making you feel so full and complete.

"Ngh," your sweet little cries are enough to give him the needed push to not hold himself back any longer. He fucks into you with so much vigour and passion you are on the verge of disintegrating.

"My gorgeous girl. You like that?"

"Yes, mommy," the words slip out of your mouth before you could think twice about it. His movements come to a sudden halt, causing you to realize what you've just said. Out loud. Ugh, you feel equally mortified and turned on.

"Mommy, huh?" he chuckles lightly.

"S-sorry," you hide your face behind your palms.

"It's okay, I can be your mommy," Seonghwa grabs your wrists and pushes your hands above your head. "I'll take good care of you, yeah? Wish you could see yourself, my most precious girl."

"Hwa, please, I mean…mommy, need you so badly," you stumble through your words weakly.

"I'm right here, my sweet baby, I'll give you what you need," he plays along. "Does mommy's cock feel good inside you?"

"S-so g-good, mommy, thank you, thank you so much," it hasn't even been that long and you already feel fucked out, utterly and irreversibly at his mercy.

"Don't thank me, dearest, I'm just treating you the way you deserve," Seonghwa vows and before you know it, you are clenching around his cock, while he is spilling inside the condom.

You can't think, can't speak, can't do anything. Nothing exists in your mind anymore. Just him. The universe is completely blank save for that one shining star. You fail to register him leaving the room to dispose of the plastic and don't notice when he returns.

"Honey?" he says softly but his voice feels so distant. Kilometres away. You can't bring yourself to form a verbal response. "Are you okay?"

Seonghwa places gentle kisses on your cheeks in an attempt to bring you back to reality.

"Come back to me, darling, please, talk to me, I'm scared," he mumbles in between kisses.

"Hwa?" are your first words. Like a newborn baby looking for the comfort that only a true mother figure could provide.

"You're safe with me," Seonghwa tells you. "No one can hurt you here."

"I don't deserve you," you are suddenly crying, overwhelmed by how cared for and loved he's making you feel.

"Don't say that ever again, you hear me?" he speaks firmly but kindly, nonetheless. "You deserve to be happy. Am I making you happy?"

"So happy, you have no idea how much," you try your best to convince him for your sincerity.

"That's all I need to know," he nods. "Let me draw a bath for you and-"

You summon all the strength you have left and grip his hand as tightly as you physically can't.

"Don't leave me."

"I'm not leaving you," Seonghwa picks you up with ease and carries you all the way to the bathroom.

Once inside the warm bath, you are more capable to form full sentences and communicate what just happened with a clearer head.

"I'm sorry for springing up the whole mommy thing without discussing it in advance," you tell him.

"I don't mind, honestly. In fact, I think I'm perfect for the role."

You smile fondly and nudge his shoulder.

"Still. From now on, I'll try my best to talk about introducing anything new beforehand. It's only fair."

"Whatever makes you feel comfortable," he kisses your forehead as he rubs shampoo into your scalp. "But just so you know, I could never be mad at you."

"What if I want you to get mad every once in a while? You know…spank me for being a bad girl?" you suggest teasingly.

"Then, I'd be happy to oblige," Seonghwa replies enthusiastically and starts tickling you in a playful manner.

It is true that time heals all wounds and distance makes the heart grow fonder. A while later, you feel ready to talk to your mom again (somewhat influenced by your dad's pleading and Seonghwa's reassurance).

"Hi, mom," you greet her calmly over the phone.

"Hi, sweetie. I've missed you," she admits.

"Me too," and it's true. Even though she hurt you, you still love her.

"Have you been eating well?"

"Yeah, don't worry about that."

"Listen…I'm sorry for saying hurtful things and being so hard on you. I only do that because I think you're so smart and have the potential to do great things."

"Well you have a funny way of showing it," you chuckle dryly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…you never praise me for anything. I spent so many years trying to get your approval that I didn't stop for a second to think whether I was doing what I truly loved."

"I understand," your mom says. "I know it might be too late but I'll try to do better. If you'll let me."

"It's not too late. But I'm not coming back to live with you. I've got a boyfriend and a job here. And I'm…actually happy."

"I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart. You will visit eventually, right?"

"I will in the summer. I want us to work on our relationship," you explain patiently.

"Until then…we can Skype or something?" your mom suggests.

"Yeah, mom, we can do that," you laugh. "If you figure how to turn the computer on!"

"Hey!" your mom argues but her tone is amused "I'm not that old!"

"I know, I know," you keep laughing.

"I love you," she says seriously. And this time, you are willing to believe her.

"Love you too, mom," you answer truthfully and hang up the phone.

You look at Seonghwa who was quietly cutting vegetables. His mere presence in the room was giving you strength and moral support.

"I did it," you announce the obvious. "I talked to my mom."

"You did so well. I'm really proud of you, angel," he wraps you into the world's most comforting hug.

"Things won't get magically fixed but…it's a start."

"You did the right thing."

"I couldn't have done it without you, Hwa," you admit truthfully. "You light up my whole dark existence, my precious star."

"Oh, baby," Seonghwa holds your hands. "Stars can't shine without darkness."

Bonus:

You are so happy to have cooked spaghetti carbonara for your boyfriend, your darling, your starshine, your marvellous Hwa. You really hope he likes it because you've worked so hard on it and it's his birthday so you wanted to do something special for him. He has given you so much care and affection so this is the least you could do to express how grateful you are.

"Happy birthday, my love," you kiss him gently, presenting the meal in front of him. "I have other gifts, as well, but food first before it gets cold!"

"Aw, baby, you didn't have to do all that," Seonghwa smiles, touched by your efforts.

"Come on, try it!" you are practically bouncing with excitement to see his reaction.

"It's really delicious, my angel! You did a wonderful job!" he praises you, sincerity clear in his voice.

You can't take it and you burst into tears.

"Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong?" Seonghwa puts the fork down, immediately worried about your well-being.

"No, it's just…the first time anyone's praised my cooking. It feels incredibly special coming from you, considering you are so brilliant in the kitchen."

"The kitchen is not the only place where I'm incredible," he winks, looking at the bedroom.

"Eat, eat! We'll unwrap the gifts later in that other place," you wipe your tears and encourage him to enjoy his meal.

"Oh, sunshine, you are the only gift I could ask for," Seonghwa promises and goes back to the carbonara. And perhaps, this is what having a home feels like.

The End

[moonlightblueandicegrey]

Unforgettable past part 1

Summary: Jay destroying himself more and more after skybound

!!! WARNINGS !!!

Uhm... We have lots of things here. We have mentions of emotional and physical abuse, self harm, sexual harassment, panic attacks, traumatic moments, self hate thoughts, thoughts of suicide, anger, bad language and curse words, smoking, heavy drinking, mentions of one night stands and abusive sex. I think that's all but tell me if i forgot anything.

You have been warned so don't read this if you are uncomfortable with those things. Now the responsibility is yours.

Writer: So, i wanted to write this thing from winter... It's summer here... I don't even know why it took me so long. Anyway, it's finally ready now. It's the dark fic i was talking about in this poll for anyone who doesn't remember or for people who didn't know about it.

Also it's the story i was referring to in this recent post:

**After Skybound**

As we all know, after Jay's last wish, Nadakhan returned to Tyrahn's tea pot and everything went back to normal. Ninjago citizens forgot everything and they just continued living normally, like nothing ever happened. No one remembered a thing, except Nya and Jay.

Nya had nightmares every night but she decided to ask for help for once. She isn't a person who likes asking for help, she mostly does things alone but she knew that she had no other choice this time. Going to therapy was a healthy thing to do, she didn't want to use other coping mechanisms. She even started talking to Kai. She didn't tell him everything about Skybound but still it was something. Nya was strong enough to realise and finally admit that she needed help. If she learnt something during possession and skybound it's that she doesn't always have to do everything alone and letting someone help her isn't a bad thing. At least she learnt her lesson after all the stuff she'd been through.

With Master Wu, Kai and her therapist's help and support she managed to remain sane. She even did the first small steps into becoming healthy again. It took time, lots of effort and it was very hard for her but success doesn't come for free, it needs hard work and Nya knew that very well.

Jay on the other hand.... He did the opposite thing. Jay found the opportunity to destroy himself completely. Why? No one knew, no one remembered. He didn't want to talk to anyone. Not even to his friends, neither to his... family,

nor to Kai.

Kai, his best friend since forever, had never seem him in such a state before! And he was worried. Nya didn't know what happened to Jay in Nadakhan's ship... No one knew because Jay never told them, no matter how many times they tried to approach him and talk with him. He was becoming distant, building his walls.

His usual happy and cheerful self was gone. He was like a different person! He even asked Nya to give him a break. A break from a relationship that had barely started. A break from a relationship that Jay wanted this whole time. He didn't even want to hear Wu's advices. Cole and Zane had no chance with him. Neither Lloyd could find out what was the problem.

They knew that Jay had been a prisoner in Nadakhan's ship because Nya told them. But no one knew what actually happened there. Only Jay remembered those moments and he could never forget them.

Nadakhan broke Jay completely and took away his happiness. Poor Jay was so close to give up. He didn't actually believe that he could survive in this life for any longer. He lost all hope. That's how his cigarettes became his "friends". He first started smoking after Zane's "death" at s3 but now he started doing it uncontrollably. Kai even found an empty bottle of alcohol under his bed once.

This was the current situation:

Jay doesn't listen to Wu, he avoids and ignores his friends, he pushes everyone away, and Nya? Once she finally decided to give him the love he desperately wanted for so long... He doesn't want it anymore. He doesn't deserve it, no. He knew that he lost himself and this new Jay would hurt everyone around him. Mostly the old Jay who was still somewhere deep inside his heart but too deep for him to reach.

Jay thought that he was stuck in a loop-like situation. He still desperately wanted to feel loved and desirable and special and cared for by someone... But he thought he couldn't...

Someone who doesn't love himself can't be loved by others.

Nobody actually cares about you.

Who would ever love someone as pathetic as you?

You are useless. Only a burden for those who pretend to care about you just because they pity you!

You're not worthy of my pity... You're not worthy of anyone's love...

That's all that Jay knew and all he could think about 24 hours per day. That's what he kept saying to him and what Jay's mind repeats, day and night, since then.

Instead of getting the love and affection he wanted, he got the complete opposite. So, after that, he started having meaningless one night stands with just... Whoever wanted him. He chose this way to feel some temporal "love". This wasn't love... This was just lust. It meant nothing. It was just cold, rough, painful, almost abusive sex. Jay got used to that pain. Even a little addicted. Addicted to this feeling of humiliation, pain and torture.

A part of him wanted to quit and try to become healthy again. But he didn't feel like he could do it. He didn't even know if he had the choice anymore. He just continued falling in the arms of any man who wanted him. And who could say anything since is was his own choice? Jay just kept breaking his own heart more than it was already broken.

During most of those times he was kinda drunk. It felt somewhat good since he wasn't thinking clearly. But the next morning when he was sober again... When he found himself naked, cold and alone? He hated himself! He wanted to rip his own skin! The self-harm scars on his body forced him to use tones of makeup to be able to hide them.

And the same scene was repeating itself over and over again. Jay, laying on a huge empty bed, alone, cold, naked, shivering and crying... He just lost count of all the times he returned home late at night, dizzy, hurt and broken. His already revealing clothes ripped from his own anger and bursting.

What kind of person was he now? He said that he had no idea. Oh, but he knew... He just didn't want to admit it.

He blamed himself for everything. He didn't think that he deserved to be a ninja anymore.

............................................................................

Kai's heart was breaking more and more every single day. He couldn't stand watching his precious best friend like that anymore. He hated all the times he had to hear Jay's footsteps at 3 am. He knew that his friend was going down the wrong path.

He desperately wanted to help Jay get out of this madness. He just didn't know what to do. While he was her "personal therapist at home", Nya told him all that she knew about Jay during skybound but it wasn't enough. Something extremely bad had happened in that ship but he didn't know what. He had no idea what made Jay's heart break like that. His mind though of every possibility. Just not of the one that actually happened. No, it couldn't be... right?

Kai definitely wasn't an idiot. He wasn't naive either. He wasn't delusional. Kai knew how cruel this world could be. He knew how much darkness was out there. He knew how unfair and painful life could become sometimes. He just didn't expect that his beloved Jay had to go through something like that. No, this was too much for him to even think about it.

He promised one thing though. He would find out the truth behind Jay's current behaviour. In a period where everyone was mad at his friend, he would find out what happened in that ship. He wouldn't leave his friend's side no matter what. Never. Especially now that Jay needed him the most.

[highway-road23]

Theory

Ferid can absorb vampires soul

Shinoa can absorbs demons soul

Who can absorb human souls?

The humans can't just die and say bye bye and completely vanish right? So what if someone is responsible to absorb humans souls in this story too?

My personal guess is that Guren is the one absorbing humans souls in himself and that's why Mahiru insisted on him doing the final Seraph Experiments 8 years ago and bring the Catastrophe maybe because that way, he would subconsciously absorb those human souls without them reborn somewhere else and another time later.

This world resurrection at 19 introduction on the official site which was written by Kagami also makes me to be more certain about it too:

And now it kind of makes sense.

According to Shikama's past (if that's actually completely true) those who commit suicide, their souls can't be taken by angel of death and pass to another world but they will be trap in the Earth forever, Shikama couldn't die too because he was under certain punishment and again that angel couldn't receive his soul, but now that Ferid is absorbing the vampires and Shinoa the demons, and with how Guren promised Krul that there is a way to bring the vampires back as humans and he promised Yuu to bring back Mika as a human too, could it be that both Ferid and Shinoa are kind of portals and a detour so can pass the vampires souls (which are the angels souls) and demons souls to angel of death without paradise noticing it? There must be a huge chance that in this way they can all be back as humans

1) if you want to share this idea with others, use the link and give me references not taking useless and nameless screenshots and spreading it away, I don't allow that.

2) if you have anything to add to it, just reblog or leave a comment, I don't allow for outsider sharing.

3) if you are not agree with this idea and just want to bring stupid and useless arguments only to pick up a fight, keep it to yourself because I don't care for your negative and different ideas at slightest just like how I mentioned in my bio before, therefore simply go away if you are not agree or if you don't like it.

[zukkaoru]

“I wish I met you sooner” + bsd pairing of your choice (bc i don’t go there hehehe) 🫶

hiii brooke, thank you so much for indulging me 🫶🫶🫶 here is a skk fic, which takes place two months after dazai leaves the port mafia. this is fresh out of the google docs with no editing so please ignore any typos lol

trigger warnings: alcohol, referenced underage drinking, dazai-typical suicide mentions, one line referencing animal abuse, bsd-typical references to violence

prompt list here - i'm still accepting prompts + bsd ships

i wish i met you sooner

Dazai’s glass of whiskey taunts him from the counter. Condensation collects around the base as the ice slowly melts away. He keeps his hands clasped together in his lap, folded as if in prayer, though he never really believed in God. The only thing he ever truly believed in was…

“Good evening,” the bartender greets as a pair of footsteps Dazai knows too well climb down the stairs.

(He should have left an hour ago.)

(But he knew this was coming.)

Chuuya orders as he takes the seat next to Dazai, phone in hand. He doesn’t spare a single glance upward, typing with his gloves pulled up just above the thumbs. Dazai always thought that looked ridiculous. Chuuya does too, but he pretends otherwise just to argue.

Dazai should have left an hour ago. Not for his own sake, because who cares what happens to him, but because—

“Two months,” Chuuya says. He nods his thanks to the bartender as his glass is set down in front of him, then rests his head against his hand. His phone sits facedown on the counter. “Why are you still here?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Chuuya scoffs. Takes a drink. Whirls around and grabs Dazai’s collar, then shoves him to the ground. Before Dazai’s vision comes back into focus, Chuuya has a foot on his chest. There’s a short joke dancing on the tip of Dazai’s tongue, but he swallows it down.

The back of his head throbs. He better not be bleeding.

“Why are you here?” he asks. It’s supposed to be checkmate.

But Chuuya just sighs like he’d expected Dazai to ask as much. He sits back down, freeing Dazai from the weight of his foot against his heart. “Why do you think?”

Dazai doesn’t want to answer that. He doesn’t want to stand up. He’d like to just sink straight into the floor, six feet down, and close his eyes forever. Why does he think Chuuya is here?

Well— When it comes to Chuuya, Dazai doesn’t think anything.

He knows Chuuya is here for the same reason Dazai hasn’t left yet. They are both subject to the whims of humanity in only the worst ways.

“It wasn’t worth Odasaku’s life,” he says, as way of explanation. Or something.

“You told me that already.”

“I know.” Dazai closes his eyes, still lying flat on the ground. Maybe, if he tries hard enough, he can will death to take him away. “Then, it was a warning. Now, it’s a reason.”

Chuuya clicks his tongue. “Maybe you weren’t cut out for the mafia, then.”

“Maybe I wasn’t.”

Silence. Chuuya hadn’t expected Dazai to agree. Dazai hadn’t expected Dazai to agree. They have something in common still, it seems—neither one of them think very highly of him. Neither one of them expect he’ll be honest, ever.

Dazai sighs. He opens his eyes, stares into a flickering bulb far above him. If he squints, it could be the moon shining bright against a starless sky. It could be the rising sun, breaking past the horizon as Dazai runs, runs, runs, knowing he is too late. Realizing for the first time that knowing is a curse.

A gloved hand enters his field of vision, and then Chuuya’s unimpressed face. His hair is unkempt and he’s taken his hat off, and the top button of his shirt is undone. He almost looks fifteen again.

Dazai doesn’t miss being fifteen, but he misses when Chuuya by his side was enough to stave off his longing for death. He misses when Chuuya was enough.

He takes Chuuya’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet.

“Why are you still here?” Chuuya tries again. His grip on Dazai’s hand tightens. He could break Dazai’s fingers without help from his ability, but he won’t.

“In this bar?” Dazai asks. “Or in Yokohama?”

“Either. Both.” Chuuya lets go and slides back onto his stool. He wraps his hands around his glass.

“I have work lined up in the city,” Dazai tells him. It isn’t a lie, exactly—though it wasn’t a guarantee either.

Chuuya barks out a laugh. “You? Work? As if!”

“I do! Really!”

Chuuya raises an eyebrow. “Okay… So, say I believe you. What sort of place would hire a former mafia executive?”

“Why?” Dazai sits, dragging his own drink closer to him. A trail of moisture settles in its wake, like slug slime. That’s funny—he’ll have to save it for some other time. “Are you looking for new employment too?”

Dazai already knows the answer, of course. Chuuya might have loved him once, but not enough to blindly follow him into the light.

“I don’t think so.” Chuuya drains the rest of his drink, then pushes the glass away from him. “And why are you here?” He gestures vaguely to the bar around him.

Dazai shrugs, nonchalant. “I always come here.”

(It used to be true. He used to come here at least once a week. But it’s no fun to drink alone.)

“You knew I was coming,” Chuuya says. It’s not a question.

“Of course I did. I know you.”

Chuuya’s expression softens, expectedly, because Dazai knows exactly how to take advantage of his emotions. He hates himself for it, sometimes. But manipulation is second nature for a demon, and that is all Dazai has been, since before Chuuya ever met him.

“Yeah,” Chuuya agrees. “But knowing is a two-way street with us.”

Dazai raises an eyebrow. “You knew I’d stay?”

“‘Course I did. I know you.”

Dazai swallows. He stares down into his drink. The ice is almost completely gone, and he has yet to take a single sip. He’s never liked the taste of whiskey, but he likes the way it burns his throat and he likes the thought that if he drinks enough, he might black out and never wake up. When he was fifteen, he liked the way it made him feel like an adult.

Now, he’s almost nineteen, and he sort of wants to go back to being a child. Not that his childhood was a particularly happy one, because it really really wasn’t, but—

His gaze lifts to Chuuya. Chuuya is already looking at him.

“I wish I met you sooner,” he says. Because if he knew Chuuya when he was ten, maybe he wouldn’t have been so miserable. Maybe he wouldn’t have stolen a hamster from a pet store just to watch it suffocate. Maybe he wouldn’t have pushed his classmate off the slide and gotten kicked out of school. Maybe he wouldn’t have gone back to that school playground in the middle of the night, climbed up to the top, and debated falling to the ground himself. His classmate’s blood still stained the wood. There was caution tape around the whole thing. People said they were going to tear it down and build something safer.

Maybe he wouldn’t have grabbed a knife from the kitchen and stabbed it into his own foot just to make sure he could still feel human pain, even if he couldn’t feel anything else.

Chuuya hums. “Would that have changed anything?”

Dazai purses his lips. Looks away.

Maybe his childhood would have been happier if it had been spent with Chuuya by his side. But Mori would have still found him—them, together��and Dazai still would have taken his outstretched hand. Still would have let Mori drape a heavy coat over his shoulders, leaning into his touch as he told Dazai he had a very, very, important job for him that no one else could do.

“No,” Dazai admits. “No, it wouldn’t have.”

They would have had a few extra years together, and it would have hurt worse when this inevitable stake was driven between them. They were bound by fate to find each other, and bound by fate to fall apart. The red string that links them is knotted and frayed, but even if they met years earlier, it could not have been a pure love.

What else could come of a tie between a god and a demon?

“I wish I’d met you later,” Chuuya lies. “Or never. Asshole.” He waves the bartender over and pays for his singular drink, then lets his gaze fall back on Dazai. “Next time we meet, I hope I’m pulling your corpse out of a river.”

Dazai laughs. “Just don’t take credit for my hard work.”

“After all the post-mission reports you put your name on when I wrote them? No, I think I’ll break your jaw and put three gunshots in your chest.”

Dazai sighs, slumping in his chair. He watches Chuuya’s back, and just before he reaches the stairs, speaks up again. “Whatever. Guess I can’t feel the pain if I’m already dead. Just make sure I’m actually gone before you do it.”

Chuuya freezes. He looks over his shoulder, and Dazai chooses to not know what emotion is shining in his eyes. “You think I care enough to spare you that pain?”

“No,” Dazai answers honestly. “In fact, I think you love me enough that you wouldn’t have a choice but to hurt me.”

(They never said those words before Dazai left, even if they both knew. Maybe, if they’d met younger, they would have had a chance.)

Chuuya smiles, but it sits on his face wrong. Like it hurts. “If that’s the case, I’m sure it goes both ways.”

And then he’s gone.

The worst part is he’s right. Dazai loves Chuuya to the point of destruction, and Chuuya loves him just as hard in return. They love each other like a building on fire, like a tsunami kissing the shore, like a black hole consuming everything in its path. They love each other like their only options are to kill each other because gods and demons are not made for things like love.

Dazai loves Chuuya like a bullet to the head. Chuuya loves Dazai like two lungs full of water.

This is true when they are nineteen. It was true when they were fifteen. It will be true for as long as they both live. And it would have been true if they’d met when they were ten years old, stealing hamsters and pushing kids off slides and wondering what it means to be human.

Thirty minutes pass, and Dazai leaves. His glass of whiskey remains untouched.

[greycappedjester]

I'm just curious since I happened to see the bsd reblog & immediately did a double take bc I've been in love with your writing forever, but have you watched bungo stray dogs? *shakes in excitement* If so, I'm curious who your favorite characters were and how far you've read/watched...

Hey, I've watched some of bsd. I'd say I watch it off and on between shows--a bit ago I finised the age 15 arc from season 3. And ofc I get a lot of spoilers about it through tumblr lol.

hmm, I'd say favorite character to watch is Dazai. I really enjoy watching smart, machiavellian-esque caracters wit somewat questionable morals, more so when they hide it under smiles or humor. What can I say I ave a favorite type of caracter? I'm not crazy about how the show does suicide references but, well, anime.

I do really enjoy that the show has a lot of characters that struggle with the can they be "good" when they don't feel like they're good or that they haven't been "good" in the past. I especially think it's interesting to have a character that changed to the morally good side out of someone else's wants rather than they themselves having any particular moral preference (at least at first). I find it an interesting idea to say "even if you yourself can not recognize why to do the right thing and do not find it particularly rewarding immediately, it is still--slowly but surely--preferential to strive towards goodness". Interesting statements for a show that bounces hard between comedy, action, crime, and philosophy.

Anyway, those are my thoughts; but, like I said I'm far from an expert in the show/manga.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics Starting With the Word “The” (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

The Anniversary (ao3) - Anonymous

Summary: It is fifteen years to the day since Dan's suicide attempt, and Phil endeavours to make the day as normal as possible.

the beginning of forever (ao3) - waveydnp

Summary: that amazing week they spent together in phil's house in 2009

The Boy From Manchester (ao3) - Koolhotsweetloveberries

Summary: Dan Howell wishes with all his heart that he was someone else. If he had to choose, he'd be a cool guy living in Manchester, like all his favorite YouTubers. They say 'be careful what you wish for'.

An AU inspired by Makoto Shinkai's 'Your Name'.

The Boys who Walk Too Close Together (ao3) - Star4545

Summary: The story of Dan and Phil growing up together and getting pushed down, but always getting back up because they have each other

the cat and the nun (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: He saw no reason why they couldn’t spend their time waiting to go home to their own realities doing something fun.

The Clock Keeps Ticking (ao3) - tellsfromhale

Summary: Dan has spent over a decade growing comfortable with himself. Finally, he can live his truth, and he can do it with Phil at his side. For the first time, he's excited about what the future holds.

Then, one day, he finds himself suddenly back inside his childhood bedroom a decade in the past, and getting to that future with Phil becomes a lot more difficult.

The Dance That We Do (ao3) - husbants

Summary: Prince Daniel of Howellot and Prince Philip of Lesterall share an evening together at the summer ball. Unbeknownst to them, this night will change the trajectory of their lives forever.

The Dragon Tamer (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan is the last dragon tamer alive and a well known mercenary to the Ten Islands, hired to kill Price Phil Lester of the Island Allister.

The Edge (ao3) - Japhan2024

Summary: Dan is restless about his future... but then he decides.

the etiquette of a farmer’s market (ao3) - Fictropes

Summary: It starts with Phil destroying a supermarket shelf, it ends with the hot guy running the cheese stall.

the hoodie bow incident (ao3) - antiadvil

Summary: they were kissing.

The Knight of Wands (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Phil had always had dreams that he couldn't quite comprehend and a certain intuition about what was truly important for his future.

the man of my dreams (ao3) - mel_m_a_o

Summary: He first dreamed about this man maybe two months ago. The dream wasn’t really something out of the ordinary and Dan didn’t really remember what it was about, but it stuck out to him, because he wasn’t usually someone who remembered his dreams. He often thought he just doesn’t dream at all, but that certainly changed. He keeps dreaming about the same pale, black haired man and his bright eyes that make Dan wake up in a sweat. He starts to see the face everywhere all the time until he actually does.

The Other Phil (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: Phil has a beard and barely looks like himself anymore, so Phil decides to meet Dan at a bar and pretend to be a stranger to fulfill one of Dan's fantasies.

the part of you they’ll never see (is the part you’ve shown to me) (ao3) - The_Blonde

Summary: "Sometimes it’s strange to think that he’s met Dan with three different names, in two different places. Sometimes he has to catch himself from referring to Dylan like he was a real person, an actual ex-boyfriend, rather than the same boyfriend he has now, just under a different name. Sometimes the backstory that he’s created for Dylan (the one Dan was too lazy to commit to) takes on a life of its own. But then, he did spend a few lonely months coming up with it."

Or: Editing Student Phils and their Ex Art Thief boyfriends.

the perfect first date (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Phil takes Dan out on his first date.

The Philver Scream (ao3) - UnorthodoxSavvy

Summary: While Dan's career in the FBI is taking off, Phil is left behind to pick up the pieces of his life after his brother's death. However, he finds himself plagued by strange nightmares that he can't explain. Soon, people around him start dying. Can Dan and Phil's partnership survive the mounting body count?

The Prince & The Wolf (ao3) - serendipitys

Summary: Let me tell you about the tale of how a boy who had flowers growing in his soul fell in love with a boy who had thorns trapping his.

The Revival Aftermath (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: The gaming channel makes a comeback.

The Roles We Play (ao3) - adorkablephil (kimberly_a)

Summary: Dan Howell and Phil Lester work together as voice actors for BBC radio dramas in the late 1930s, but slowly begin to develop “inappropriate” feelings for each other.

the (shipped) gold standard (ao3) - catboyhowell (bloodyscarab)

Summary: sometimes i wanna quit this all and become an accountant now

but i'm no good at math and besides, the dollar is down

the (shipped) gold standard by fall out boy

The Stake are High, the Water's Rough, But this Love is Ours. (ao3) - trancelover99

Summary: During an alien takeover of Earth, Dan and Phil have been teamed up to be battle partners against the invaders. The duo doesn't exactly get along for a number of reasons, particularly Phil's timid and shy nature and Dan's stoic and demeaning attitude. But when a hoard of aliens kidnaps Phil, Dan has no choice but to go after him. Will he succeed? Or die trying?

The Secluded Glade (ao3) - palomeheart

Summary: Phil Lester has always been acutely aware of the ways he and his daemon Adra are different from others. Namely that Adra is male, hasn’t settled yet, and they share second sight that causes them to have dreams that show them glimpses of the future. Now, as a consequence of one of his prophetic dreams, he’s forced to go on a rescue mission to find a group of children that have gone missing from his town. He may have signed up for more than he bargained for, however, when they find another man who’s been captured with some differences of his own.

The Slave Boy (ao3) - Phandiction

Summary: On his eighteenth birthday Phil receives a quiet and timid slave boy as a gift from his father. Phil intends to make Dan his friend more than a slave but social status and pressure from his father forces the two to keep an emotional distance when it comes to being in public. Behind closed doors though the Master and his slave become close. Phil is expected to take over his father's business and marry a prestigious young girl but this isn't what the young Master wants. What he wants is something he can't have in his world, his slave boy.

The Sun, the Snow and Everything in Between (ao3) - Emejig16

Summary: A lot can happen in the span of one year, or a cycle of four seasons, 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes and 31,536,000 seconds. In that common amount of time Phil met Dan at bonfire night in the fall and over the course of a year, realizes he found a person he would’ve never guessed he’d found that night.

The Ultimate Boyfriend (ao3) - americanphancakes

Summary: Dan Howell is utterly convinced he'll die alone with no one to love him. He's also certain he'll never be able to realize his dream of making desserts for a living instead of dealing with his nightmarish boss.

Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, all of this is about to change.

~OR~

The one where Phil is an android custom designed to be Dan's boyfriend.

the wagtail and the lovers (ao3) - buskingalbatross

Summary: On the Isle of Man in spring, a little pied wagtail is building its nest. Tradition says that it needs a few good luck charms to successfully raise its young.

The Winner Takes it in the Ass (ao3) - danisnotonfire

Summary: Dan gets his second request for his shuffleboard win

The World Going By My Window (ao3) - CaibrynM

Summary: Dan is a reluctant Crown Prince, always watching the world outside his window and wondering what else is out there. As he walks through the village outside the Castle walls one day, he meets a quirky villager with a passion for nature, an oddly constructed house, and a secretive past.

[ally-holmes]

It started with a kiss | Richie Tozier x Stanley Uris (Part One)

Series Masterlist

Summary: Eddie kissed Richie at the Clubhouse, but then ran away freaking out. Stan finds Richie and well... He asks him to kiss him too.

Content Warning: modern setting (2007), no Pennywise, aged-up characters, Derry as its own warning, mention of social stereotypes, mention of recreational drug use, past issues, mention of failed suicide attempt, kisses.

Word Count: 6244

Also available on AO3

Part One | It started with a kiss

Maine was considered the most southern state in the north of the United States, which was true; all the stereotypes referring to racism and religion and the obnoxious necessity of glorifying tradition that could be seen on TV shows when they made any southern state reference could also be found in Maine, most of all in Derry. Derry seemed like a town that wanted to be a city that just decided to jump from the timeline and stay forever in a place called "the good old days" by the elderly. Derry still had families that looked down on the catholic school in Neibolt Street and looked even worse to the synagogue; some of them even held tight to their purses when they crossed paths with any member of the only black family in Derry –they were the fourth generation owning the Hanlon farm, though– and oh, no one will ever talk about homosexuality and integration. Of course, there were some shy movements in favor of getting Derry an update making it more modern, unfortunately, even though being in full 2007, it was still a disgusting bunch of prejudices, misinformation, and crimes.

Because of that, when Richie Tozier discovered at the age of thirteen that he was in love with his best friend, Eddie Kaspbrak, the world came crashing down on him. He wasn't just terrified that Henry Bowers and his gang would find out, they were harassing him for way too long with homophobic nouns without any proof; the problem was his friends and the whole town. He never wanted to be in the limelight, not really. Richie liked people paying attention to him, sure, but not to  actually  pay attention to him, because if they did, they would be able to see the way he adjusted his glasses when he was uncomfortable, and they could identify the moment in which his jokes were trying to cover the pain of his soul, and even the nervous tic in his leg. If someone  bothered to pay enough attention, they would've found out immediately that he was crazy in love with Eddie Kaspbrak, and if the Losers found out, Richie would've found himself friendless, but if Eddie did– If Eddie figured out the truth, all of Richie's soul will break into hundreds of pieces. Just thinking about it made his legs shake; a sour taste filled up his mouth, and his stomach twisted awfully. Ms. Kaspbrak, Eddie's mom, kept convincing him that he'd get AIDS by just sitting next to gay people sharing their air. If Eddie ever discovers Richie's secret, Richie will become a germ, bacteria, and incurable virus source in his eyes. Richie would be as dirty and disgusting as Ms. Kaspbrak assured.

At the moment, with their last school year on the horizon, Richie felt lost and anxious. On one hand, he wanted to finish high school, leave Derry, get lost in the big city streets, and enjoy his life. On the other hand, he was afraid of losing touch with his friends and terrified that Derry had messed up so nicely with his mind that he wouldn't be able to function in the outside world. Will he still be terrified of looking briefly at a cute boy? Will he suffer a panic attack just by thinking of another boy while masturbating? He endured the panic when he did it thinking of Eddie! Richie felt like a traitor when that happened, but it wasn't a recurring thought. Truth be told, Richie had given up on Eddie a long time ago. From thirteen to fifteen, he fantasized about the possibility so many times that the fine line between dream and reality blurred. It was then that reality hit him like a brick. Richie will never be with Eddie. Keeping wishful feelings waiting for the day something would happen was anything but torture. That's why, after a Saturday full of sobs, alcohol, and molly, Richie decided to let go. He locked his romantic feelings for Eddie so just the friendship would remain.

No one will ever know.

No one  should ever know.

No one.

Richie was positive about that when on August thirteen, he crawled into the Clubhouse with a hunch of molly in the pocket and an m&m's family-size bag between his hands. The beginning of his senior year was just some weeks away and the Losers agreed to spend time together as much as possible that summer. The summer of when they were thirteen, the Losers faced a pedophile and serial killer named Robert Gray, a.k.a. Pennywise the Dancing Clown, and they were on the state news like a group of brave local avengers. It didn't last long because Henry Bowers killed his father that same summer, and did the same thing with some of his insane friends, which filled every news channel around the country. Derry kept its number one position in the "Most Violent Place in the United States"  charts. It didn't matter how tragic the whole experience was, they became a group of friends who survived school: the Losers Club. Now, the old Stanley Uris' fear of how long they would remain friends seemed to take shape for everyone. University implied distance, and distance wasn't an ally of friendship.

That afternoon Richie had been the first one at the Clubhouse just after four, and in this little hole the weather was fresh, so he landed awkwardly in the old hammock with his long extremities trying to find a good posture. He rolled the joint with his long slim fingers when he heard someone stepping down the doubtful stairs.

"Spaghetti!" Greeted so excited that he fell from the hammock and burst into laughter.

"Asshole! How much have you smoked yet?"

"Oww… Eddie Spaghetti, don't give me that mad Chihuahua look. I haven't smoked yet. I didn't get the chance." Richie moved the joint between his fingers calling for Eddie's attention, who followed the movement with his eyes.

"I have no idea how you'll get through university approval."

"It's early to be thinking about that, Eddie-Bear. We still have this full year together. A fucking long and endless year full of compositions, tests, expectations, rejection letters…"

"Shut up dickhead!" Eddie shook his inhaler and took two strong shots before calming down, sitting on a trunk that the Losers had dragged into the Clubhouse so it could be used as a bench.

Eddie was quite nervous about the perspective of finding a university; there was the chance that his mom would burn all his letters or even sabotage his studies so she could have him with her forever. Richie pushed just enough to be a pain in the ass, but not quite enough to mess up his brain.

"Want a drag or what, Eds." He asked, looking for his lighter.

"I don't want shit, Richie. I don't even want you smoking here. When the Losers came, then do whatever you guys want, like always."

"Humm– You're saying that like you hated to get high, Eddie."

"You know how hard it is to talk my mom into letting me live my life. Molly reek doesn't help at all."

"Oh, my dearest Sonia." He said in his British posh voice. "A woman as sweet as big that when you showed up reeking of marihuana for the first time ever she thought it was a new perfume. Your mother is full of shit, my dear friend, but it's not alright to toss the crap you don't want into her."

"I hate you"

"I know. Easy boy, in about ten months you won't have to put up with this pile of human disgrace no more, baby. Never ever."

Regardless of the joyful tone used, the weight of those words was enough to set up a painful silence between the two of them. Richie didn't light up the joint at the end; he kept it in his pocket and tried to find a suitable topic.

"You're not a burden, Richie. You are  annoying and sometimes is nearly impossible to follow you, but you are not a burden. Don't think like that."

"Yeah, yeah… Hey, there's no need to give me a TED talk, Eds."

"Don't call me that." He finally said.

"My point is that I already know that the moment we leave for uni no one will remember the lil' ol' Tozier."

"God shut up!"

Never.

Ever.

Not even once did Richie Tozier thought possible that in the fresh environment of a hole in the ground on a hot August afternoon none other than Eddie Kaspbrak would grab a bunch of hair from the back of his head to keep him still while he was kissing him. Everything seemed so fucking weird that Richie asked himself if he had smoked that joint and the molly was stronger than he had guessed. It took him a moment to understand that he wasn't hallucinating, and then he kissed back shyly, not closing his eyes all the way. Any moment now Eddie could disappear, explode or just break into a mean laugh. The chances scared him so much that Richie clenched his fists in this Hawaiian shirt to restrain himself; he didn't want to spook Eddie by touching him.

The moment Eddie's lips parted from his and opened his eyes, the hand that hung onto Richie's soft curls let go, caressing his neck lightly. Richie tried to close the distance once again, but he couldn't nonetheless; he wasn't brave enough to do it, so Eddie took note and dived in holding Richie's chin before kissing him again. It wasn't an experienced kiss, they didn't even use the tongue, the lips used shy, cautious movements drawing a patron like Eddie had studied the theory until his eyes went dry but didn't get any practice. Wasn't surprising coming from Eddie.

When Richie decided that the shared kisses were good proof that he should stop worrying, he let go of his shirt and placed his right hand on Eddie's thigh. Eddie jumped with the touch breaking the kiss. It was at this moment that he knew, he fucked up. Eddie was the perfect impersonation of a rabbit blinded by car lights. Richie froze, he even stopped breathing, getting ready for anything that could happen after the most frightened and wrecked expression of Eddie.

"No. God, no. Oh, no. I can't. No." He went up quickly to pace round and round in their tiny hole while his hands were ruffling his hair, not glancing at Richie at any moment. "I'm sorry. Fuck, I can't– forget it. Rich, I– I can't."

He climbed up the dangerous stairs of the Clubhouse at superhuman speed before Richie could react; and when he did, the only thing Richie was able to do was to break down crying covering his face with shaking hands, sobbing without consolation. Stan found him like that not even a minute later. Richie hadn't noticed the rushed way in which Stan went down the stairs like he knew what he was about to find, he hadn't noticed when Stan stopped his movements the exact moment he saw him either. Richie did notice when Stan removed the hands from his face with a stern voice and made him rinse the tears away and blow his nose.

"Did something happen?" Richie denied the question shaking his head. "I'll say it differently. I  knew that you were longing for Eddie before you did; I've seen him running away and you're a mess. So, tell me what in the fucking hell happened here, Richie."

"I don't know. I really have no idea. We were talking about the future, our last year in town." He explained between pitiful sobs. "And then– then he kissed me and… I don't fucking know why he fucking  kissed me! Fuck! It was Eddie! Why would Eddie kiss me? And– and sure, the kiss wasn't marvelous, but did I suck so bad? Was the kiss so awful that he had to run away? Maybe it was my hands' fault, I shouldn't have touched him. God, I'm certain my hands are disgustingly sweaty… It might be my breath, maybe it stinks. He might think I got him AIDS, Stan. What if he doesn't want to talk to me again? What if he tells the Losers that I'm gay? What if I spend my senior year friendless, alone, locked in my room until merged with the sheets?"

"Enough!!"

Again, with a stern, powerful voice Stan achieved Richie's full attention. He was looking at him as if it was the first time. A whole bunch of different emotions could be read on Stan's face, but when he took off Richie's glasses Stan became a shapeless blur that became clearer bit by bit. To do so Stan should've been way too close and when Richie felt his warm, sweet breath became aware of the closeness between them.

"Don't worry about the Losers. Even if they found out, they'll never treat you differently, I know there's a part of you that already knows it. Eddie won't tell to  anybody ."

"Don't you find me disgusting?"

"You're always disgusting, Richie Tozier, but not because of  this ."

Richie visibly relaxed and was aware for the first time that during his attack, he had fallen from the trunk; he was on the floor, and Stan –the always flawless and impeccable Stanley Uris– was kneeling before him.

"You're getting dirty."

"Don't care."

For the first time in his entire life, Richie heard Stan claim that he didn't care to get dirty . Moreover, it was the very first time that he'd seen him totally comfortable with the affirmation. Stan was way more worried about him than about his trousers, and that just could mean that Richie was utterly pathetic.

"Show me how you did it."

"Huh?"

"Show me how you kissed Eddie. If you think that Eddie run away like that because the kiss was awful, show me how you did it."

The Clubhouse light wasn't the same as the one that could be found outside; nevertheless, Richie was able to see the intense blush that covered Stan's face and crawled down his neck. Stan's eyes seemed like two black orbs filled with a bunch of hard-to-identify feelings, but the tension in his body was shouting uncertainty. When Richie didn't respond and looked at him open-mouthed, not even blinking, Stan moved away, sitting over his legs, and crossing his arms over his torso, tearing his eyes away from Richie to look anywhere but him.

"Leave it. I know you don't like me. Kissing would be stupid. I'm not Eddie."

The distance made Stan into a blur again so Richie couldn't identify the kind of facial expression he was making, but he felt the weight of the last affirmation so hard that it ended up breaking his heart.

"It– It wasn't so good. He just grabbed my hair suddenly and– well… He just pushed his lips over mine. I was too scared to move. And– and I don't want you running away either. Seriously, Stan�� Why would you want to kiss  me ?"

"That's a stupid question." He mumbled.

"I  am stupid."

"Of course you are."

The loving voice placed pressure on Richie's chest like a huge void was waiting for Stan to fill it up, and he needed it immediately or he'd die.

"I know that Richie is a synonym of hehe-haha, but if the kiss is actually horrible don't laugh. Don't tell anyone either. I don't want everyone to…"

"You didn't tell anyone what happened that time,  Rich. I won't be the one outing you."

"Are you not afraid of people thinking you're gay?"

"Wow… Richard, I knew that you were slow, but this is a new level. I don't hide, but I don't feel the need to wear my label written on my front either. If I have to pick one, I think bisexual would be ideal. Do we kiss now or do we wait until the Losers arrive?"

Thousands of questions arise in Richie's mind, but he wasn't able to answer any without risking their privacy at the Clubhouse because the Losers could arrive any minute now. He swallowed nervously and nodded, a good enough invitation for Stan to get close again and grab him by the hair the same way Eddie did, but using less strength and more firmness. Richie ate a moan, feeling the void growing bigger in his chest. Stan's eyes danced from Richie's lips to his eyes, he licked his own lips and broke the distance.

The kiss had nothing to do with the one shared with Eddie. The moment their lips got together the void in Richie's chest got filled with the need for Stan. Richie's hands didn't hesitate when they found a place on Stanley's hips squeezing with intention. Their mouths moved with need and urgency as if they wanted to become one. While Eddie's kiss was tongueless and awkward, Stan's was natural, organic. Stan was the first to try to use tongue licking Richie's bottom lip asking for permission to get in. God, Richie needed that so fucking much! He opened his mouth without complaint welcoming Stan's tongue like a dear old friend enjoying the sweet apple pie taste of it. This time he didn't fight back the moan that burst from his chest. Richie pulled the thin body closer and Stan held Richie's face between his hands to keep him in place while he adjusted better on his lap. Their bodies fit like puzzle pieces.

Oxygen made itself needed in their lungs, being the only reason why they separated. Panting in each other's mouths, swollen lips wetted with saliva, they looked at each other hungrily. This time Richie wasn't afraid of restarting the kiss. Something in his inside growled at the sight of Stan, that's why he sent his right hand to Stan's nape letting his whole arm press against Stan's column to keep him in place, then he made him move down to kiss him again. Richie was able to feel Stan's moan against his chest and he discovered that that was the most erotic fucking noise he'd ever listened to.

The kiss was hotter and needier than the first one. It wasn't enough. Seemed as if it would never be enough, as if they should spend the rest of their lives kissing each other because if they didn't do it the world would come to an end. They broke apart, nonetheless. This time, Stan let his head fall back trying to get this breath back, and his Adam's apple showed so deliciously in his throat that Richie couldn't control himself, so he bit it lightly, feathery touch of his teeth that was quite enough to make Stan shake in his arms, holding better against him. Richie responded to it by kissing the area, tasting it with his tongue not daring to suck, too afraid of marking him.

"Shit. Fuck… Rich, we need to stop." Despite his words, his hands caressed Richie's scalp making him tremble.

Richie let Stan's neck go just enough to look at him, trying to figure out his facial expression, regardless of the lack of glasses on his face and being in a cloud of desire. Stan smiled at him sweetly when he looked back at him, and Richie blushed.

"It's not that I don't want to keep going, but the Losers are on their way and I suppose you don't want them to find us with my tongue deep down your throat." He put Richie's glasses in their place carefully before leaving his spot in Richie's lap so he could sit on the trunk.

"Will you want that?"

"I don't care."

"Was it good? The kiss, I mean."

"You make some damn stupid questions, Richie."

"And you could very well answer them, please." His voice showed insecurity and he was hiding his face from Stan on purpose.

"Yes, it was better than good. It was better than I thought."

"Have you been thinking of kissing me?"

"I've been thinking of the things that trashmouth of yours could be used for besides 'your mom' jokes."

The silence between them stretched out; both of them were trying to figure out what just had happened and how to confront it. Finally, Richie sat in the trunk looking at Stan.

"How long have you known about me?"

"I'm a very observant man."

"You are, but only with the things you like."

"What are you implying, Richie?"

"You wouldn't have kissed Bill."

"No."

"Or Eddie."

"No."

"Why me?"

"You know why." Stan felt cornered and bare, but Richie's insecurity made him insist.

"No, I don't. Every time I ask, you say it's stupid and refuse to answer clearly. I can figure something out, but fuck it Stan if you don't tell me exactly, I don't know if what I think is real or if I'm just being plain pathetic."

"And why did you kiss me? I'm not Eddie."

"Aargh!!" He ruffled his hair desperately. "We can't have a conversation here. Let's go to my house. Don't give me that look, my parents aren't home. They just left after lunch, they're staying at my gran's for a few days, I was going to invite the Losers, but now I've changed my mind. Let's go."

The path from the Clubhouse to the Tozier's house was done in silence, with fast steps, not caring much about the suffocating afternoon summer sun. The house was quiet with some dish soap odor still floating in the air. Richie went straight to the house thermostat, turning on the air conditioner in the whole place, but then the nerves overcome him. He looked at Stan doubtfully fixing his glasses.

"I know that  usually, we go to my room, but I don't know if, given the circumstances and with the house empty, you'll rather be in the living room or–"

"Shut up, Richie." He smiled aiming for the stairs following the well-known path to Richie's room.

Richie's bedroom was big with walls full of pop-culture movies and old music band posters. In one corner laid a worn-down guitar, there were piles of papers everywhere and half-empty snack bags on any surface. The bed had new crisp and clean sheets. Stan stayed there some afternoons every week during the school year, thanks to the agreement he had with Richie.

When he was just an eleven-year-old boy, Stan suffered an illness that made him lose almost a full school year, that's why he had to redo the lost grade when he recovered. Being a little boy he didn't actually care , but growing up he became aware that his friends would leave Derry a year before him, and that made him incredibly anxious. To solve it, his only chance was to improve his scores to get into the grade he should've been, and to do so Richie had a gift, he was extremely intelligent, though it was quite difficult to concentrate. The agreement consisted of Stan giving Richie some help managing his ADHD if he helped him with private lessons. With mutual effort, Stan was able to pass a grade, but they never revoked the agreement.

Stanley got into Richie's closet looking for something to change into. Usually, Stan kept clothing items in there so he could get changed when he visited in case he got dirty, wet, or had sweated. He wasn't the only one, the closet seemed a private storage for the Losers. Stan didn't choose between his tops this time, he picked the most well-worn and colorless of Richie's t-shirts, the ones Richie used frequently to sleep on. The light and worn-out cotton fabric felt way fresher against his skin. For the bottoms, Stan changed his trousers for some of his own sports shorts. Feeling refreshed, Stan climbed into Richie's bed with his back pressed against its headboard.

Meanwhile, Richie busied himself tidying up a bit, mumbling stuff, having absolutely no idea of what to do with himself. Being aware of Stan in his room, in his bed, with his t-shirt, was something completely new for him. Richie gave up on pretending when the holes Stan's eyes were craving in his skin were too much to ignore; he took off his shoes y threw himself to bed the most casual way. Thank fuck his parents bought him a big ass bed.

"So… We've kissed. Rad, huh?"

"Quite rad, yes."

"Why did you want to kiss me?" To his question, Stan took a big breath with weariness. "Tell me the truth because my head is running miles per hour."

"The same reason you'll want to kiss Eddie," Stan answered dark blushed, looking at his hands, clenched in his lap, craving his nails into the flesh.

"I didn't  want to kiss Eddie."

"You've always  wanted to kiss Eddie."

"That's not true. I wanted to do so for a while, but then I became aware that being obsessed with something that will never happen was useless torture."

"Then it looks like I enjoy suffering…"

"It could be." He confirmed grabbing Stan's left hand between his, tracing carefully the dim scar crossing the forearm from the wrist to the elbow with his fingers. Stan shivered. "When I found you, blade in hand, with all that blood– I knew I'd been too focused on my self-pity picturing an impossible relationship with Eddie. I moved on."

"Hmm…"

"I'm honest, Stan. Eddie's kiss shook me on too many levels, but I never thought it meant I could be with him. I don't think of Eddie that way."

Richie got Stan's arm closer to his mouth and kissed the scar close to the wrist, making him shiver again. They were fifteen when it happened. Stan had a terrible experience involving Robert Gray and Henry Bowers that unlucky summer, which added to his OCD and insecurity created the devastating depression cocktail that drove him to the darkest place. Stan never told anyone, but finding out how he felt for Richie was another piece of the puzzle. He was jealous of Richie and Eddie's dynamic and wanted Richie's attention just for him. It was awful to feel that fucking dependent and ignored, which is why he hid everything with his other insecurities. Stan compared himself with Eddie, and even though Eddie Kaspbrak was like a hyperactive raccoon with mysophobia, he was also brave, willing to fight any moment. Stan wasn't like Eddie so seeing him get the attention Stan desperately sought for himself fed the self-conscious demon that lived inside his mind.

He wasn't able to take it anymore one day. There was no trigger; that day didn't happen anything significant in class, or relevant with the Losers, not even with his parents. It might be possible that if there was actually a trigger people around him would be able to find comfort blaming something specific, but there wasn't such a thing. Stan just gave up. That day was tiresome, slower, and heavier with each passing hour. Richie said he'd go to the Uris' that afternoon to study, but on their last period Eddie stopped him, forcing Richie into lending him a comic, and when Richie didn't show up Stan knew that he was too busy with Eddie. Well… Yes, maybe that could be considered the trigger. Richie came fifteen minutes late, flushed and breathless thanks to the run, he threw his backpack on Stan's bed when Ms. Uris let him in. He couldn't find Stan at first, so he knocked on the bathroom door.

"Are you taking a dump, Uris? I'm already here, dude. Sorry I'm late, Eddie won't stop talking. Stan?"

The sound of something falling into the water was his only answer. Not the best moment for a fucking bath, really. Richie's alarms went off trying immediately to open the door, hitting it with ferocity.

"STANLEY!"

His claim worried Ms. Uris, who saw him breaking the doorknob when she showed up upstairs. Stan was shirtless inside the bathtub, his left forearm was wide open dyeing the water red, a blade shaking in his hands while trying to cut the flesh in his other arm when Richie entered the bathroom. Richie didn't hesitate; he snatched the blade and got Stan out of the water in one movement; he grabbed the closest thing to cover the bleeding wound, which turned out to be Stan's shirt. Ms. Uris snapped out of her stupor to collect as many towels as possible, covering the wound better.

If Derry found out that Stan had tried to kill himself, his mental health would get worse, that's why Richie moved quickly, spreading the rumor that he was misbehaving toying with some knives, thinking they weren't as sharp as they seemed, and ended up hurting Stan. The Toziers helped him with the rumor so the truth was only known by the Uris, the Toziers, and the Losers. Stan didn't want to tell the Losers at first, until one day he discovered Eddie and Bill were telling off Richie, calling him irresponsible, immature, and other hurtful things. Stan couldn't allow Richie to get all the blame, so he confessed.

For Richie, finding Stan in the bathtub that day was the most traumatic experience of his whole fucking life. He felt useless. He thought ill of himself. Richie believed he was the worst human being in the universe because he'd been so self-centered, he wondered if it was possible for him to stop it if he hadn't wasted so much time talking to Eddie that afternoon when he lent him the comic. Stan's hospital days had Richie always present, and when he was discharged, Richie named himself Stan's personal nurse-butler. Knowing it wasn't fair, Richie hated Eddie a little bit that day.

"So… Do you like me?"

"Richie–"

"I'm a needy person, Stanikins. I need you to tell me I'm doing a good job, that I'm a good boy, that you're head over heels in love with me. I need constant reassurance."

"I've liked you for a long time, but I wasn't as smart as you I'm afraid."

"What do you mean?"

"I gave in to my empty hopes even though I knew you liked someone else. I just clenched onto my feelings, willing to hide them forever. Our study afternoons were good enough for me. They still are, truly. The fact that we kissed doesn't mean that–"

"We could try, though."

"Huh?"

"We could try being together, don't you think? I know I'm not much… well, I actually am way too fucking much. Forget it. I'm full of shit and you already have enough, you don't have to bear with me. We can still kiss from time to time if you want… or not… whatever you want."

"Will you go out with me without  liking me?"

"I never said I don't like you. I never thought of the chance and now I can't find any objection. We're practically dating already, we only missed–"

"Pushing our tongues into each other's throats."

"Exactly."

"Does that mean that you won't kiss Eddie again, although he tells you that he's sorry, inexperienced, and that he'll do it better next time?"

"Stanley, no more Eddie," Richie ordered, holding Stan's hand firmer.

"Fine."

This time the silence was more intimate. They were on the bed, looking intensely into the eyes holding hands. Their hearts were beating violently against their chests, a strong blush on their faces. Richie fixed his glasses with shaking hands; he decided it was better to just take them off, and on doing so Stan shuddered.

"Do you like me better with or without the glasses?" It seemed like a casual question but hid all of Richie's insecurities in it.

"Both."

He drew Richie to kiss him making it obviously difficult for him to put his glasses on the nightstand. They kissed with the same hunger and need that they did in the Clubhouse while going down on the bed, lying down. They held onto each other, hands never going under the clothes, not touching dangerous places; they weren't comfortable enough yet. Richie kissed Stan's neck again, allowing himself to suck lightly into an easy-to-hide spot. Stan's moans were the best reward. When by chance, the needy movement of their bodies made them feel their erections rubbing against each other over the clothes they drew apart as if an electric current had hit them.

"Do you– do you have experience?" Stan asked.

Richie had issues, sure, yet he was endearing enough to draw girls' attention and quite the determination to show Derry that he was as straight as a stick. He had some flings, nothing serious, so he never went too far. Therefore, Richie shook his head.

"I don't have either. We're not in a hurry, are we? We can–"

"Research at least. I don't believe that porn could be considered as a faithful portrait of reality."

"Trashmouth."

"Sorry. Want to play some video games to calm down? My parents supplied the kitchen, want something?"

Just like that, they moved to the living room with a too-visible bulge between their legs. They weren't ashamed; some part of them felt proud and confident thanks to that bulge because it meant that they were on the same page, although they tried not to look at each other's dicks. They played games and enjoyed some snacks as usual and the excitement went down on its own. The only difference between that afternoon and any other Richie's video game afternoon was the light brush of their bodies while playing, and that from time to time they kissed. In the middle of one of those kisses, Richie's phone rang with a grating sound.

"Uh… It's Bill. Play it cool."

"It's a phone call."

"Hey, Billy boy, how's the wild wide west?"

"Where the f-f-fuck are you, Richie?"

"Home."

"We ag-g-greed to meet at the Cl-cl-clubhouse!"

"Oh, and I  was at the Clubhouse!! I'm positive one of you had already started to eat my m&m's bag and I bet anything on Bevy finding the joint I left. I  know you. I've got there the first one, are you aware of how fucking hot it was in there? Dude! Did you really expect me to wait there for-fucking-ever? No way! I came back home and I'm playing games with Stan."

"But we agreed to meet!"

"Hold your horses, cowboy. Look, Mr. and Ms. Tozier are gone for a few days, so I thought we could do a sleepover tomorrow. How does it sound? We meet in the afternoon, eat tons of crap, and see a bunch of movies. Everything is in the comfort of Casa Tozier with my air conditioner. It's a better plan than staying at the Clubhouse."

"F-f-fine. Sounds good."  Any trace of the initial anger in Bill's voice was gone now; he always got struck by Richie's quick rant at making plans.  "I'll t-t-text the Losers. Do we bring s-s-something?"

"Your presence is good enough for me, my man. And maybe five bucks each to buy pizza, but that's just a suggestion, not a requirement."

"Yes, yes. I'll t-t-tell them."

"Soooooo… I wasn't so bad, huh? Do you think I was too obvious?" Richie asked Stan when he hung out.

"If Bill had been in front of you, yes. Is that way of shaking normal? 'Cause I don't think it is."

"I've freaked out!!"

"I can see that!!" Stan shouted back before laughing and speaking in a softer voice, "I have to go."

"So soon?"

"It's almost seven; my mom will go insane if I'm not home for dinner. If you want me here tomorrow I'll have to leave now."

"Fiiiiiiine. I don't have a choice but to let you go."

Stanley went upstairs to recover the clothing he was wearing that afternoon when he went out; meanwhile, the house cleaned up the place; but when Stan went down again, he found Richie ready to get out.

"Where are you going?"

"I'll drive my boyfriend home." The word made them blush. Stan crossed his arms before Richie, willing to look menacing.

"Do you believe  I  need an escort to walk a couple of streets?"

"Of course not. I don't want you to leave so I'd rather accompany you and say goodbye at your front door." He mumbled red-faced, without looking at Stan's eyes.

"God, you're adorable. I'll love to, honestly, but I'd rather not do a show for my mom. Come here." He gave Richie a peck and hugged him by the shoulders squeezing him against his body.

"Text me when you're home," Richie murmured to Stan's neck, not wanting to let go.

"As always, Rich."

"True. We're not going to change much in the end, we already behave like an old married couple. I spend my whole time texting the Losers, I text you the most when I'm home alone" He made the Macaulay Culkin face.

"Yeah, you even texted me about your shit routine."

"No! Oh my God! My life is running before my eyes… I made a fool of myself all this time. How can you like someone who texted you talking about the shape of his turds?"

"I do wonder it sometimes. I don't want you to change, though, I like you just the way you are."

"Oww, Stannie… If you liked it so much I'll text you a picture of my turd next time."

"Please don't."

It was hard to say goodbye, but Stan went finally through the door and Richie stayed there, watching him go until he disappeared.

To be continued...

[taketwoinink]

k, l, q, r, c

WE GOT SOME REPEATS AND LOTS OF ASKS AHHH THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!! @eleilinnrallin @gemstarstarlight @chaserofstarsandtheabyss @jinxneedssleep

I feel like you skipped every letter that had a character I was excited to talk about lol

Here we go!

K First up is this dude and I hate his name so he shall be referred to as simply K. He's a trans man, only transphobia is a big thing in this world, so everyone thinks he's a girl. In his story, there's a war going on, that has been for the past thirty years or so. Due to politics, magic was outlawed decades ago. There was a massive purge of all magical people and those who survived fled. They didn't have anywhere to run to, (everywhere is either extremely dangerous or would be a foreign kingdom hostile to them) so they set up a camp in a forest on the edge of the land that was never inhabited because it's always been overrun with monstrous creatures. They tamed these creatures and use them as manpower to farm and to fight. (Fun side note: this kingdom's closest ally is a kingdom in which magic is not outlawed, because they lived in the mountains and need it to survive up there because it is VERY COLD and covered in potentially magical ice. So as part of their alliance, this kingdom agrees to not harbor any magical refugees and the other kingdom obviously won't turn aside any of their magical people either. This alliance is mutually beneficial. The frozen kingdom receives supplies (mostly food and crop / animal stuff that they can't grow or raise in their harsh climate) and the other kingdom has the protection of the frozen kingdom because their magical warriors are renown throughout the land.) He's not the main character of this story, he's the love interest to one of the main characters! She's what's known as the King's General of the army. How this works is there are ten generals in the army. The King's General is the top general and the other nine are their advisors basically. In order to become King's General, you must duel your way to the top. Only one of the nine generals can challenge the King's General. She's the youngest King's General in possibly forever. The army has a huge influx of soldiers that they don't need. The magic users use the forest and their beasts to their advantage and engage mostly in guerrilla warfare (hope I spelled that right), so in the army's case, having more people in the field can actually be a hindrance to them. However, people keep coming in. It's considered a great honor to go to fight and for a lot of starving families, the compensation they get from sending a family member to fight is the only thing keeping them going. So, the army finds a use for these people. They use them as human shields.

There's different types of magic users and each one has a different name. The most powerful (arguably but also not) are the sorcerers. They have elemental magic that is extremely powerful and difficult to control. What they can do in a fight is bombard the enemy with fireballs from safely in the back. They're always guarded by at least a pair of other magic users (normally witches: conjurers who can manifest objects. Each witch has a different material unique to them that their summons are made of.) So the army sends new recruits around the back to attack the sorcerers. A lot of them die, but it keeps the sorcerers busy so the rest of the army can focus on the other magic users. After all, why waste well trained soldiers on a suicide mission? Anyway, Omikiia is her name lol but I'm insecure about it so it may be changed. Her sister is a witch and she knows this (her sister doesn't know that she knows this though) and their father was arrested (possibly under suspicion of being or harboring a magic user) and Omikiia went to the king and pleaded for his life to be spared. She struck a deal with the king. She'll go to war and as long as she's alive out there, her father will be kept alive in prison. The king's like "eh she'll probably die in a week and I'll get rid of both of them". She's determined though. She catches on pretty fast to what the army is doing with the new recruits and she makes a group of friends (which K is included in) and she doesn't want them to die. Hence her fighting her way to the title of King's General so she can change the tactics and save all these lives that were being wasted needlessly. She's good at her job too. K gets elevated to being one of her nine generals (she makes the majority of them and other important officers in the army people she knows are loyal to her, in the event of a power struggle with one of the other generals, she'll have more allies than they will. (popularity is also important here) but she also keeps some of the older and more experienced generals because their feedback is important) Anyway, K is very serious and comes from a poor family. He went in place of his older sister to the war to gain the benefits for his family. The longer he stays alive, the better off they'll be. Also he falls in love with Omikiia but they have to hide it because everyone assumes he is a woman and gay is a big no no. They do get to share a tent though because everyone thinks they're of the same gender so obviously they're not going to get up to anything. Obviously. (I have more K characters but that's the one you get to hear about!)

Now for L

Libra I may have other characters that also have a name that starts with L but Libra is my newest and the first one coming to mind. I created them for a roleplay initially so their story is based off of that. (A ROLEPLAY YOU ARE IN, EL! So um... I will redact some of this for secrecy purposes :D ) other people not of the roleplay may ask me for the full backstory if you want! In the world they're from, magic is heavily prejudiced against (I promise it isn't this way in all of my stories lol, just some of them). Libra was about 16 and living at home with [redacted] ... they turned 30, they became wanted for being a thief ... [redacted] ... This made them jaded ... [redacted] ... And now they're constantly on the run from the police. ... [redacted] ... So they're extremely bitter but they don't show it. They use pet names for everyone, they're sassy and mischievous, and they get by with their hard earned stealing skills. They also always wear a mask to hide their identity (there is nothing wrong with their face though, they look rather ordinary). They have a soft spot for children because it reminds them of [redacted]. So they'll often go out of their way to put a smile on a child's face or to keep them safe but they'll turn around and ignore an adult who needs help if it'd put them in danger to offer assistance. Their policy is typically, I sell you things for cheap and you don't ask where I got them. You need something, I'll get it for you, no questions asked, no one else has to know. (they're in their thirties now, [redacted] is in her twenties, there's a ten year difference between them) I have a picture of them, actually! (however since Tumblr has been bullying me, I may not be able to post it here) 

Omikiia's sister's name also starts with an L Q... q.... I don't think I have a character who has a name that starts with Q!

R

Okay okay okay okay so there are a lot of people who could fit this one! (including a character who is literally just named R lol) But we'll go with Reflections The thing to know about Reflections is that they are two people. Their species is born with telepathic/physic and memory-manipulating powers. Reflections was born as a pair of conjoined twins. However they are almost completely conjoined, so they're basically two people in one body. This has the side effect of doubling the strength of their powers. (the body is AFAB, one twin is a demigirl, the other is genderfluid. because I can) Their species lives on a series of islands. There used to be more of them but they've often been oppressed and killed off. Reflections' island was conquered. Low ranking individuals of their culture are being sold into slavery or as soldiers. (there are further repercussions of this throughout the world. the species that conquered their island tried to conquer the world 300 years ago and is now oppressed and marginalized in many countries for it. having an uprising of them trying to conquer areas again is Not Helping) Rank is determined by mind duels. In these mind duels, the contestants face off in a battle of mental strength. Whoever breaks first loses. Instead of dying if you lose, whoever beats you gets the right to your mind's identity. Or essentially all your memories. They can then declare whatever they wish. They can have you exiled, stripped of your status, etc. Whatever they say about you, everyone else has to go along with. It's their tradition. In the old times people would challenge each other to mind duels for leadership, supplies, to settle disputes and to get revenge, and other stuff like that. Everyone has been using mind duels to try to climb in the ranks of society to save their families from slavery Reflections' family was of low rank, so they participated in several mind duels before finally losing one. Now because Reflections is two people, there was a bit of a complication as the winner only gained the right to the mind of one of them. There were a lot of disputes that were only settled when the unbeaten half challenged the victor to a duel for their sister's rights. Well this side, being the more powerful of the two, won. The victor, being a sore loser, claimed that Reflections had cheated and that both sides had participated in the mind duel. Because there was no one to prove whether or not this was true, Reflection and the loser were both exiled until they found some way to prove the truth. (quick detail, one twin has better control over their body and the other one has better control over their powers) Reflection wandered the land, looking for a sufficiently well respected member of their species who could analyze their memories and prove the truth. They eventually found said member, who agreed to try if Reflection would kindly assist in erasing someone's memory for them. Reflection agreed, did the job, and let this person examine their memories. However they were not successful. Reflection, still determined to return home, sought out the person they had both beaten and lost to, only to discover that he had been killed. Without his memories, there would be no way to prove that Reflection is innocent. So they can't return home. Both twins are mischievous and like to switch up who is talking to mess with people. Their voice sounds the same, though their inflections are slightly different. One twin (the genderfluid one) is more hot headed and assertive. The other is the more mischievous one and is also the scheming. She's much calmer and thinks things through before they do them. They're essentially always co-existing next to each other, so anything that happens to one, the other is aware of. Their memories are different however, as each one views what is happening to them differently. Each twin still needs their own individual name and to be fleshed out more. I also need to work out exactly how them existing works. We'll get there! 

And finally. C!

I actually have an entire family of characters and all of their names start with C... I CAN'T FIND MY NOTES ON THEM THOUGH AHHHH and I'm too lazy to keep looking. a lot of my story notes are extremely unorganised

The C Family So we'll go based off of my memory! The two I remember best are the twins, Cannon and Camera. Other people in the family include the oldest Cascade and the youngest... I think her name was Cinnamon but my cousin has an OC by that name so she's gonna have to be renamed. Camera, true to her name, likes taking photos. I mean if you're gonna be named Camera like you might as well. She's also very protective and hotheaded. Cannon's a lot more leveled headed. Does sports but some of the team members were toxic so he quit so he's sort of friends with some of them and not all. He has a girlfriend but I forgot her name. Camera would totally be a lesbian Oh yeah their parents are dead, killed by a gang, gang war politics, I don't remember all the details. So now Cascade is pretending that they're alive while really she's running the family because not all of them are out of school and she doesn't want anyone being taken away. I think they all have brown or black hair? wow I have not described appearances for anyone. They were originally side characters in a different story of mine, however I may like to snatch them out and put them in their own story. we'll see!



AND THAT'S IT THANKS FOR COMING TO MY RAMBLE SEND ME MORE ASKS I HAVE LOTS OF CHARACTERS!

[meanwhileinstasiville]

Dear Musk, Ashland in not a company town, per se

Clark: A house my grandfather was associated with, because town founding family, and he owned many. Now there's an SNK grocery employee staying there, driving a Latin King colored car she parks prominently out front. A Mexican landscaping team demolished all of the landscaping, mulching it "to be sure" soon after. As it had stood since the 1960s still healthy as planted to match the climate zone. I think maybe it's because a friend tied to one of the more powerful (and related to your industry) families in the region, had visited Greece. Dryads, you know. And being the Danes, Shakespeare's "last bastion of witchcraft" his mom is wont to make potions now and again (the real thing is like baking, and sometimes concoctions).

A door handle at MoC: Market where a single item can run well over seventy dollars, has a broken door handle that has been mended with a loop of bailing wire. They can't come up with the money to fix it, I guess. There's a fabrication plant right here in town, and they have franchises all over Oregon.

A roof that leaks at the Co-op: Another market with financing problems, and one that contains a better restaurant than the hotel downtown, where a meal can run a hundred dollars. 100k and up *before* the inflation surge, on a daily take, same as MoC. (Ashland has like 30k people living in it).

Ashland Library: The giant addition with a roof matching the style of my childhood home, having spent the *entire county budget* in it's construction. As present, I'm seated between someone on the sex offender registry, sitting to my left. A street import for Latin King demoralizing purposes to my right, eating cup-o-noodles at the computer and washing it down with cherry coke, decked out in camo clothes of course. A social anxiety case who resembles my former boss's son (from SNK) breathing heavy and wearing a shirt with a giant eye on it, sitting kitty corner, "oh yeah ese, I'm a giant ojo!" that would seem to say, from an organization renowned for killing first responders. Opposite corner sits an ambiguously asian woman in Eddie Bauer being "helped" staging a conversation with an expy of my old boss (a drug kingpin masquerading as a "white" guy) while sitting in the far corner. Snoring is coming from the vet heavy guy who attempts suicide now and again to get the EMTs to show up and fawn over him, with his "snap-el" bottle of "Thanos" (named Phil, works at SNK while being my former boss's prized liutenant)threat. Any attention is good attention, right? (Ashland is down the road from Medford, the west coast drug production and export hub, and why a Japanese firm *really* bought Harry and David.

Reference Ken Burns: Is milling around, well past retirement age, because he's like the documentary guy in name only, and to make Ashland Library "worthy" of my best friend's family.

Strawberry Lane: Yes, *those* kinds of strawberries, to go with the sex offender who beat a hasty retreat (maybe shoulder surfing what I was typing), where human trafficker extraordinaire acquired *another* of his homes. Some three different ones out on 66 adjacent addresses, and Clark, and South Mountain, and Hargandine some forever ago, also Granite. Arizona later, after scouting (and being run out of there by Native Americans and their spirits) Lake Havasu. Ashland's first church and first bank were founded by his family. And all the cemetery stone was cut by his *female, one of only two in all of North America* relative's stonemasonry. And and, the reason I'm so insistent about Musk is evil, is because this Carnegie Library, added onto with this giant structure, was because of his family's extremely prominent position in the period KKK, and whose membership *also* contained Andrew Carnegie.

Something to do with: A certain 900-odd-years long war with the English. Good Irish, evil Irish, some very terrible things but necessary in light of (then 1500-2000 population super rural Ashland Oregon) growing America's "Other elizabethan shakespearean theater" in the whole United States. Campaign Kennedy made a stop here in the valley because "representing Wexford county" so long ago. And family fortunes took a nosedive after the Kennedy assassination. (we're getting to the company town part)

Another sort of curious situation: Easton Hardy's The Ethical Slut, about polyamory, references a couple with three people while getting one of the names wrong. Celia was indeed a Harry & David heiress. My grandfather was indeed a hermaphrodite and walking aristocrats joke (of whom I'm a sort of clone, and why I react to Telsa the way I do), but it was his *first* wife, who died young, that made the throuple. She married someone like her father Roy, who was also in a throuple (the three even traveled together) with AJ and Virgina Bayless (the family that merged store with Safeway so long ago, and also set down the money to buy the SNK store out of a catalog) of the Bayless family department store chain and sort of precursor to Walmart, from Arizona.

Company town Ashland ok: Ashland was a Dexter's Lab for human trafficking, money laundering (if you could call it that, because the state just used the money; did I mention grandpa was best friends with the chief of police? Yeah, anyway) and mob resort activity that "gifted" Ashland a sort of Golden Gate to The Golden State, park (and WAY out of profile for a community so rural; did I mention we had not one but *two* Olympic swimming pools? One heated, one not. Anyway...) and all-around one-stop shop for setting unwilling guests to "sleep with the fishes" on the way to Grants Pass where the mob used to table meetings. Consider it a sort of layover between Sacramento and Grants Pass during the bootlegging years. As said, family fortunes tanked after Kennedy was assassinated, and coronation of the Latin Kings DBA Chicago as "America's representative city" and who began running Ashland from the shadows in the late 1960s.

When a certain automotive: Wholesaler began to get footing, South African well occupation style. Cars being like water that stunts American lives where there's lack of them. Also linked to Chicago. Anywhere their real estate interests exist, expect to find "Metropolis" like period art deco Chicago architecture and trim. And they grew like a weed, aggressive "acquisition strategy" they call the current CEOs activities, and whose actions are little departure from operating practices dating back to the sixties/seventies.

Ashland lost timber dollars: But they had automotive, and drug production hub down the street, and marijuana tourism written in the books as regular tourism. From rich Californians on drug vacations. Strawberries were still big business around the time of the dotcom boom about town, too.

Ashland lost theater proceeds: Automotive donated, and donated, and donated. And became shareholder of note for securing actors (and housing them), and scripts, and structural renovation where buildings weren't "keeping up with the times". No word on what they were doing with the slush fund in the millions, back when they still had it, as Ashland's owned and operated tourist trap. Collegiates (did I mention we had that, too, a college?)

Ashland's school: For making housewives into teachers became Southern Oregon State College (to be worthy of interests operating in Ashland, then as now with solvency problems and low academic high water line, to say the least) became Southern Oregon University. Worthy in name only (and still regionally regarded as a "party college) of a certain Latin King associated family member's attendance there. And also famous and infamous for campus coed rape problems (now seldom reported but certainly still ongoing because Ashland convened a Campus Public Safety unit). Safety officers selected by Latin King and associates, driving vehicles provided by none other than a certain automotive wholesaler.

And they can't seem to keep: Administrators of any kind on staff; a college presidency like taking lead role in a Batman movie. Suicide suicide.

And yet: Coeds sex work is Ashland's secret not secret, and college is the *reliable way* to keep them flowing in (should mention concentrations of hotels all around Ashland, to the point of being across the street from one another, and a complex of them on "this end" of Medford to soak up some of the prostitution proceeds.

Company because town: A sex shop prostitute outfitter can't go out of business, because it's carried by Eugene. Chocolate shop up the street can't go out of business because automotive family favorite. Car quest. NAPA. Gas stations in blocks (Great grandpa Roy owned most of them way back when, and also all the school busses; see where I'm going with evil and emerald mine based car companies?). Caricature of itself, Ashland has become, because special interest cartel and otherwise are carrying everything out of pocket; theater owned most of the craftman and beyond houses on the historical register, in order to house super-high-caliber actors in the style to which they're accustomed. Some hard times year after year leaving the theater bankrupt. Cartels need sex workers, charitable giving appeals to automotive. There's no there, there, and to the point of literal "Phantom Security" running around, and themselves reminiscent of Homeland Security. Soaking up the wages to stand around where no security cartels couldn't do a better job, could possibly exist. Ashland's theater was among the safest spaces in Oregon. And there's nothing there.

Ashland cannot: Even explain how it manages to be solvent, at all, let alone running deficits as it does without furloughs. And "eme" (ms13) having taken over emergency services (because EMS gets to hear encrypted band civil transmissions), saw *two* additional fire departments commissioned. A total of three. For something like 30,000 citizens without a fire disaster (Oregon has the best firefighters in the world) to show for it.

Ashland's: Twin Plunges Olympic swimming pools were covered up by the Co-op. Ashland's "first real shopping center" was built around Bi-Rite "your local market" now MoC (like eme and also Moctezuma) Oregon regional. Ashland's department store sits next to SNK, which itself sits next to a housing development where my Sicilian great-grandmother's yard used to be. And her family friends are on the lease of where SNK sits. Connecting the Bayless remnant family business and Sicily where no one can see it. Since they themselves do not know. Arab extraction, the brown skin of the Bayless family came from. Sicilians being of Arab Muslim extraction themselves (it makes sense in context). And yeah, they were all about the money laundering. If you could even call it that.

As for me, I'm a clone of my grandfather: Where genders and sexualities and all the fonts of the underworld met. Ashland Irish and Sicilians run out of Los Angeles by the Latin Kings who followed them up here, against British empire interests. And the Swiss with the Irish, too.

I recognize that in Tesla: Apartheid. War with the Boers. An alliance of a lot of kinds of evil around one person with all the good intention in the world. While simultaneously housing literal centuries of generational violence, specific to a place and time Americans know nothing about.

[thefanficmonster]

Fated

Karl Heisenberg x Autistic, Sound-sensitive Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, Spoilers for RE8:Village, Noise sensitivity

Genre: Romance, Comfort

Summary: Not everyone could love a man like Heisenberg. But Y/N isn’t everyone, nor is she just anyone. She loves him as the whole package he is: murderous intentions, human experiments and all.

Requested by @phoenixofthevalley Hi dear! Here you go - the first fic I’ve ever written for Karl Heisenberg (first of many) and thank you so much for being my first ever Resident Evil 8 requester! Hope you enjoy the read! Feel free to correct me if I’ve described anything incorrectly or in an accidentally offensive manner. I have no intention of spreading hate or any type of misconception so I’d really appreciate the correction. Love, Vy ❤

Watching Karl get so excited over this grand plan of his - the destroying of Mother Miranda, his revenge - it all makes me feel uneasy. I can’t explain the feeling, mostly cause I’ve never felt it before, and I can’t quite describe it either. I don’t connect to people easily and I’ve always been told I’m the problem but I guess it took the right person to make me feel things I haven’t felt for no one else all my life.

“The weren’t worthy of your emotions, darling.“ Karl told me on one of the rare occasions when I opened up my mind to him. I felt his words wrap around me like a comforting embrace. For the first time in my life, I felt understood.

I think that’s what took me the longest to get used to - being understood, seen and validated. My opinions had never before been taken into account seriously, my personal boundaries were rarely respected by others and people always had a hard time dealing with how distant I can be. But what bothers me above all is how people refer to me as dramatic because of my sound sensitivity - something no one took seriously when I’d tell them about it.

Karl did though, surprising me to no end.

He respects that I like my personal space and prefer not being shown much affection, especially not physical. He understands that I have a hard time showing people affection myself. He goes out of his way to make sure I’m ok with whatever it is he’s doing, saying or suggesting. And I’m sure that if I were to ever tell someone about this, they wouldn’t believe me. That’s most definitely due to his rough exterior and intimidating appearance. Also probably because he comes off as downright selfish and rude when you first meet him, but getting to know him was a journey worth taking because I now know the real him. A trust me, his rough exterior and the softness of his true self have nothing in common. Although, he does claim that softness is only reserved for me.

With all that laid out, it’s completely understandable that I don’t want him going up against Mother Miranda. Thanks to Karl I’ve never had the displeasure of running into her, but I’ve heard countless stories of how powerful and downright terrifying that witch is. Bottom line: I don’t want Karl walking into something that’s the equivalent of suicide.

And I’ve finally decided to let him know exactly how I feel about it.

I’ve been sitting here, searching for my voice as I observe Karl in his deepest thinking space. He’s constantly in it, if you ask me - constantly thinking, looking for ways to make his innovations better, stronger, more powerful to add to his chances of victory against the sadistic ruler of this village. He was already at his desk when I walked in, hunched over dozens of drawings drawn with cut-edge precision yet in his mind they are probably not near good enough. In his mind, all he does is never good enough. He prides himself on this factory and what he’s produced thus far but he cannot stay proud of himself for very long, he constantly feels the need to better himself in order to remain worthy in his eyes. I wish I could change his mindset on those grounds but I know that my tries would be futile and pointless.

“Karl?“ I suddenly speak up, surprising both him and myself. I don’t know what I was thinking opening my mouth when I still have no idea how to go about this without making it seem like I don’t believe in him. That is in no way the case. I believe he can defeat her, if he cannot do it himself, his robo-army most certainly can. But I don’t want defeating her to cost him his life cause without him in mine I’m not sure what will be left of me.

He straightens up from where he’s been hunched over for the past God knows how many hours, rolling his shoulders and stretching his arms as her turns to look at me, his sunglasses capturing the white neon light in the office as he does so.

“What is it, darling? Something wrong?“ he takes a step towards me as I stand up and go to approach him.

“Actually...“ Suddenly, that thing he keeps in a safety cell just below this room starts going off with that annoying loud sound it makes. It’s always disturbed me, ever since it came to exist which was not so long ago considering it’s been his latest project. It not only terrifies me but triggers my sound sensitivity as do most of the machines in this forsaken factory.

I close my eyes tightly shut as I cover my ears with my hands, praying for the sound to go away as soon as possible because I can’t take it. It almost makes me physically nauseous and gives me vertigo, bringing me to the brink of tears because of its loudness and intensity, like it’s drilling right into my brain.

I can’t quite pinpoint the exact moment the sound went away because when faced with such a pain-inducing experience, my senses tend to tune out while I still remain conscious, but when my hearing returns I the only thing I’m able to hear is a steady heartbeat and a steady breathing. 

“It’s ok, darling. You’re ok.“ I hear Karl’s quiet whisper, giving me peace and coaxing me into opening my eyes.

When I do so, I come to realize why the rest of the world has gone quiet. Why I’m suddenly so flooded with comfort like no one is able to bring me. No one but him.  One of my ears is pressed up to his chest while the other is covered by his warm hand which travels up to move a strand of hair from my face and put it behind my ear as he repeats his soothing words like a chant, slowly starting to let go of me out of fear that he’s crossing a line. He’s always so wary about that and I’ll forever be grateful to him for it.

“Are you ok, sweetheart?“ His hands gently cup my cheeks, tilting my head so I can look him in the eyes - directly in the eyes, for he has ridden himself of his glasses. I’ve found he does that often when around me - removes his glasses. I once asked him why that is but the answer he gave me was vague, all the while a small smile played on his face. Guess he’s a bigger secret-keeper than I primarily thought. It doesn’t bother me really, I know the only secrets he keeps are the ones that would be a hazard for my safety if he exposed me to them, so I allow him his secrets and I keep some of my own to myself. It’s only fair, after all.

I nod, blinking up at him, “Yes, I’m ok. But...“ Now or never, girl. Now or never. “But if you want me to be honest, I will be.”

He looks baffled by my answer but he doesn’t falter, quickly regaining his composure before he replies, “Of course, dear. I always want you to be honest with me. What’s on your mind, what’s bothering you?“

Now “I haven’t been really ok for a while now.” I take his hands in mine, removing them from my cheeks but holding them firmly between us - a gesture that surprises me just as much as it shocks him. Never have I felt the need to be so close to someone. It may be momentary and temporary, but I refuse to dwell on that as I push forward with my argument, “I haven’t been ok since you told me about your plane. The whole thing with Mother Miranda and all that...” Not the time to be leaving me, words. I started this, I’ll finish it. “Look, Karl, I know you and your army can bring that witch to her demise but...”

“But what, Y/N? Tell me.“ He encourages me softly, his hands subtly tightening their hold on mine as if to keep me grounded, remind me he’s listening closely to every word I’m saying. Like he always does.

“But what if it doesn’t go as planned?“ I blurt out, biting my bottom lip nervously. It makes me anxious, being so honest and emotionally exposed. That’s so rare for me I doubt I’ll ever get used to it, but that’s the only way I have at least a fragment of a chance of convincing Karl to drop this. “What if things go south and you end up killed or turned into a monster or something else?“

The concern on his face washes away when he hears my words, getting replaced by a soft, consoling smile. I quickly look away, feeling that confession on my part was quite odd. I feel out of place but not uncomfortable, I don’t know how to explain it. It almost feels like relief, like I’ve finally gotten a huge boulder off my chest and I can finally breathe properly. But I can’t, not until I hear his reply. That smile should probably tell me something but it doesn’t - I won’t believe anything until I hear it come out of his mouth with my own two ears.

“Oh Y/N, darling, you won’t lose me. Ever.“ His thumb swipes across my knuckles soothingly, drawing abstract patterns on the skin of the back of my hand, “You never need to worry about me, hun, I ain’t going anywhere. No one can take me away from you or you away from me. Anyone who dares to try, well, bad things will happen to ‘em.“ He chuckles, easing the tension enough for me to able to look up at him again. When our eyes meet again, I see something I can’t name nor describe. All I know is that what he’s telling me is genuine and comes, “I’ll always be here, by your side, Y/N. I will always be here to shield you from anything and anyone. Any rogue lycan or any loud sound, I’ll be there to prevent it from reaching you. Never forget that. Ok?“

That urge to be have him close takes over me again. I think that somewhere in the back of my mind I see a clock ticking down, counting down the numbered hours we have together before he inevitably carries out his plan. As scary as that is, I think I can do nothing but accept it.

And so, that’s exactly what I do.

Wrapping my arms around him tenderly, enveloping him in the first hug I’ve ever given him - probably the first hug anyone has given him - I accept our fate, silently hoping it changes somewhere along the lines.

“Ok.“

[phoenixyfriend]

Auntie Soka and Little Leia (and Rex)

Chapter 2: Legacy

In which they run into a familiar face.

Chapter specific warnings: references to Order 66 and slave chips, and all that entails; references to past, off-screen suicide by unnamed characters; references to canon genocides

-------

“I’m a human espresso.”

Soka looks down from where she’s been scanning the spaceport for a sign of where and how to get a ride to the next planet. She can’t afford to purchase a major leg of the trip, just a few systems in exchange for labor or… well, they’ve already stowed away a few times. They’ll be doing it again.

“What?” Rex prompts.

Leia looks up at him, and then at Soka. She frowns a little harder. It’s unfairly adorable. “I was already small and strong and bitter, like caff. Now I’m smaller, and still strong, and even more bitter, so I’m espresso.”

Soka purses her lips and looks back up, trying very hard not to laugh at the little girl. She feels… lightheaded. She’s too tired.

“Can’t say you look very strong to me, Princess,” Rex says.

“Strong in the Force,” Leia corrects, and then mutters under breath, “apparently.”

Cute. Soka can’t focus on that. She needs to find a—

“The Gamorreans,” she spots. She has a good feeling, or at least one that isn’t wholly terrible. “Bet they need a mechanic. With me, kids.”

“I’m not a kid!” Leia protests, far from the first time.

“I’m older than you!” Rex adds, though he at least is laughing through it.

“Yes, and?”

--

In exchange for Sokari fixing a chronic issue with their fuel lines, the Gamorreans take them as far as… well, it’s a barely-named planetoid, rife with crime and danger, that’s not even halfway to Eriadu. It’s still closer than they were two days ago.

Sokari gets to work, trying to find another ship to barter with. Another craft to stow away on. Another way out.

There isn’t one.

It’s not that there aren’t more ships going in and out. There are. They just… are mostly smugglers, slave traders, or Trade Federation.

She’s not betting her safety on the fripping feds.

(Besides, she can’t avoid their security with the kids in tow. Not without more tech, or at least a good night’s sleep.)

A day passes, and she gets them a hotel room. When morning comes, they have a tail, and she has to squirrel them away on a rooftop for the better part of six hours to lose it.

Slavers. They’re getting pinged as an easy target.

Fuck.

She doesn’t bother with paying the next night. She breaks in through a window, shoves the kids to shower and bed, and then stands guard until dawn, too jittery to sleep. The Force will carry her for a little while longer. She can do this.

They don’t have a tail, when she drags them back out, just as the weak sunlight is filtering past the clouds at the horizon. Her skin crawls with it, though, and she pulls them along crowded thoroughfares and past richer part of the ports, where there is at least a veneer or respectability. She bares her teeth and flashes her beskar whenever she can. Leia even lets herself be carried to make it harder for someone to snatch her.

Rex has a blaster in one hand and the leather of Soka’s belt in the other. It’ll be enough to give her warning to draw her blades if she really has to.

(Someone tries to pickpocket the sabers, but Ahsoka Tano learned that lesson in the dim, dank Coruscant undercity at age fourteen. It hasn’t happened since. It certainly won’t be happening again.)

“Auntie Soka?” Leia whispers, dragging her attention from the slightly-too-interested Twi’lek with the Pyke tattoo half-hidden under his shirt.

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.”

…shit.

She glances at Rex. He grimaces. He must be hungry too, then.

Soka thinks inwards. She is… also hungry. Shit.

Her focus is slipping.

She can’t keep this up forever.

“I think that one’s safe,” Leia says, tugging on Soka’s pauldron and pointing once she’s gotten attention.

It’s a pub. It’s not any cleaner or grimier than any other.

Leia’s strong in the Force, though, stronger than Soka ever was. If she has a hunch…

They have enough money left for a warm meal. They need it. She’ll figure something out for passage.

(She can’t let them down, she can’t she can’t she can’t.)

“Alright,” she says. “Let’s go see if they let kids in.”

--

There is someone at the door that is, ostensibly, meant to keep out minors.

He doesn’t.

Soka does not grab a table before she grabs food. She refuses to leave the little ones anywhere without her, even if it’s just a few feet away, grabbing a plate of mashed tubers and braised nerfmeat.

(They don’t have anything raw, but she’ll… figure something out. She can work with cooked or grilled or whatever. Maybe fish?)

Her eyes are drooping, and she eats with them closed. She’s too damn tired to do otherwise, but her other senses are wide aware.

Someone reaches for Leia’s hand, radiating ill intent, and Soka stabs the dinner knife into the table just millimeters from their skin.

The person yanks their hand back, and observes. They feel awful and oily, and she’s sure they’re trying to decide if they can get away with another try from a different angle.

She opens her eyes a sliver, pulls the chewed bone from her mouth, and drawls, “Copaani mirshmure'cye?”[1]

The rodian’s eyes are hard to track in terms of where they point, but she knows they’ve just realized her armor isn’t for show. Sure, it could be faked, and it’s not like learning Mando’a is impossible for the layperson… but she’s already made her claim with the knife. She might not be Mandalorian. She also might be. They know better than to risk it.

Probably.

They sneer and wander off, and Soka closes her eyes and lets her head fall back.

She needs to sleep. She needs to sleep, or she’s going to lose her kids to some asshole that actually is the slightest bit competent.

That, of course, is when things get interesting.

It’s not… unexpected, entirely. It’s not the most expected, but it’s not a huge surprise. This planetoid is a ‘hive of scum and villainy,’ as some would say. It’s the norm to see pit fighters and slavers and yes, even bounty hunters.

So, really, it’s not a surprise that Sokari spots a Mandalorian.

She doesn’t recognize the armor. She does recognize the sigil; she’d spent too many years as a friend of Bo-Katan’s, dropping in and out of each other’s lives to share a drink and mourn all that they’ve lost, to not know at least a few major clans and factions. It’s a mythosaur skull, something she knows is associated with the True Mandalorians. The Haat’ade, a name that had rankled at Death Watch for all that the intent had been ‘Mandalorians striving for truth and honor’ and not ‘the real Mandalorians.’ [2]

She considers it. She’s too tired to really think it through, but… they’re more likely to help than some, probably. She thinks… hells, she can’t remember what year the Galidraan incident was. If it’s before, then she might be in luck; the Haat’ade were decent people overall, she thinks. At the very least, they’re enemies of Death Watch, which is… usually a good sign. Soka herself was an enemy of Death Watch. So was Maul, for a bit, but… it’s fine! The True Mandalorians have the same grudge as Soka does, right?

And Mandalorians like kids and Sokari hasn’t slept in five days and it’s fine. It’s fine! It’s fine.

“Oh shit,” Rex whispers, before she can suggest anything. “Oh fuck.”

“Stop cursing,” Leia hisses, elbowing him. The two of them are sitting on the same bench, across from Soka in the booth. Why did she think that was a good idea? “People are going to notice.”

“That’s the Prime,” Rex panics, only barely managing to keep it quiet. Sokari’s heart drops, because fuck is right. “That’s Fett.”

Leia isn’t impressed.

Sokari angles herself between Fett and Rex, and prays that he doesn’t see them.

Sokari is usually able to ensure she keeps awareness of potential enemies.

Sokari is in fact running on none sleep with left trauma.

She doesn’t notice Fett walking up and dropping into a seat across from them until he’s actually done so, removing his helmet to glare a little more efficiently.

“Wanna explain why your kid has my face?”

Later, Sokari will tell herself that he’s killed Jedi with his bare hands, and that’s why he can sneak up on her. She will say that she can be forgiven some slip-ups with the exhaustion being what it is, and that she’s obviously going to be dealing with some emotional instability in light of the sudden return of teenage hormones. She’ll tell herself that it’s all in the new forms of anxiety she’s got, ones that are markedly different from those she’d been struggling against just a few weeks earlier.

What Sokari wants to say is ‘that’s kind of a long story,’ or ‘maybe he’s a cousin,’ or ‘kriff off, I don’t know you,’ or maybe even just ‘he’s a clone.”

What Sokari actually does is burst into tears. This is embarrassing for her, for Fett, for the kids, and for the entire rest of the bar.

It really is the straw that broke the eopie’s back. Even when she was actually this age, she didn’t exactly cry much. Objectively, Fett quasi-aggressively asking a valid question shouldn’t send her into a panic. She’s been through torture, through genocide, through actual death and worse. She shouldn’t be crying.

Yet, she is.

She is sobbing her eyes out with no control, and he’s just sitting across from her and looking uncomfortable while Rex wraps his little arms—oh Force, he’s so small, when did he even get around the booth table to her side, where’s Leia—around her, and she can feel it as both ‘children’ glare at Fett.

She has to stop crying. She has to stop, what the hell is wrong with her?

She’s not this tired. She can’t be this tired, to be crying just because Fett showed up and—and—

Why can’t she stop?

(Her breathing evens out, but the tears do not end. There’s a cup of water set in front of her. She doesn’t know who ordered it, but Rex is nudging her to drink.)

(She wants Master Kenobi’s tea.)

“So… I’m going to take it she didn’t kidnap you from a loving family or do something illicit with a blood sample,” Fett says, after it becomes obvious that Soka’s not going to be ready to talk any time soon.

“She didn’t,” Rex says stiffly, with just the right emphasis for Fett to catch what’s implied. Sokari just keeps her head down, eyes pressed against the heels of her palms, trying to get her body to stop rebelling against her.

Fett’s eyes dart to Leia, who folds her arms and draws herself up, every bit the unimpressed princess. “My father claimed her as a sister, so she’s my Auntie ‘Soka.”

The man dithers a bit, the conversation clearly not going where he’d expected. “Right,” he says. “You—you’re all kids. I thought she was a little older, at least, but I didn’t have a good look at her face before.”

She is older, but actually admitting that is only going to make this worse, both for her pride and for her chances of making it out alive.

“Where are you staying?”

“What?” Leia bites out.

“You’re kids, you’re alone, and you’re clearly not okay if you were trying to hide the one with my face as blatantly as you did, and then… whatever this is, when I confronted you,” Fett explains. Sokari lifts her head to glare at him, but it’s probably not doing much with the way her eyes are rimmed with red and still wet. He looks genuinely uncomfortable. “Don’t give me that look, ad’ika, your kids looked as confused and horrified by that as the bartender did. They obviously didn’t think the breakdown was normal either.” [3]

Well, kriff you too, Sokari thinks.

“And what do you mean by ‘blatantly,’ here?” Leia challenges. It’s adorable, but Sokari watched this tiny girl shoot a man last week, and wonders when people are going to start taking that seriously.

“There are a lot of people in this galaxy, and I don’t exactly have the clearest memory of what I looked like at that age,” Fett says, slow and careful like he thinks they’re a little dim. Sokari decides to chalk it up as being because Leia’s seemingly six. “I would have thought it was just a coincidence if you hadn’t put in effort to hide him.”

Leia huffs, and Rex glares harder. Fett just sighs, like they’re all going to give him grey hairs.

“You can explain whatever the hell’s going on after you get some sleep,” Fett decides, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’ll let you stay on my ship; there’s some spare bunks and you’re all pretty small.”

“For free?” Rex demands.

“A night on a bunk in exchange for information,” Fett clarifies. He looks unimpressed with Rex’s aggression. “We can negotiate from there.”

Sokari takes a few moments, notes that both of the others are waiting on her for the decision, and cringes. She doesn’t feel steady enough to carry that. She has to anyway.

“Rex?” she asks, voice rasping after the breakdown of the past few minutes.

“Yeah?”

“How much?”

He looks up at her, eyes calculating, and grimaces. “We don’t want Order 66. A warning is better, even if we… share information.”

She nods, and turns to Leia. “Any premonitions, princess?”

Leia glowers, cute and furious. “No.”

“No, don’t tell, or no, you aren’t getting any vibes about sharing info one way or the other?”

“The latter,” Leia clarifies, huffy to the last.

“Right,” Sokari says, and then just… hesitates. She doesn’t want to. “Fett…”

“You’ve got conditions,” he guesses.

She bares her teeth in what could have, through a squint and perhaps a few drinks, been called an apologetic smile. “Just one, really.”

“Yeah?”

“No hurting, killing, or turning us in for bounties,” she says. “Any of us.”

“You’re children. I wouldn’t.”

She blinks at him, slow and careful. She hesitates. She reaches down, out of sight, sees him stiffen.

She unclips her sabers from her belt and puts them on the table.

His eyes are fixed on the weapons the second they enter his line of sight, and don’t move as he clearly realizes why she made the condition she did.

“I left years ago, because I couldn’t stay without it ruining me,” she says. Still slow. Still careful. She’s so tired. “But if I want to keep Leia safe, I have to get back to Coruscant.”

His eyes finally lift from the sabers, expression blank. “Just her?”

“Rex doesn’t have the same monsters coming after him,” she says. “If it were just me and him, I’d worry less. Leia’s a different kind of target.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith on the table by telling me that,” Fett says, voice flat and neutral. “Considering my occupation.”

“She’s a child,” Sokari says. She feels heavy and boneless and so, so, so tired. “Even with what I was and will be, even with what money you would get from the right buyer, you wouldn’t.”

She thinks. She hopes. She can’t discount what he agreed to with Kamino.

“There are other risks.”

“There are.”

They stare at each other for too long, probably, and then Fett jerks as Rex kicks him under the table. The boys glare for a moment, and then Rex says, “If she weren’t good, I’d still be a slave to those who grew me.”

Fett blinks, and then nearly growls the word, “What?”

“She freed me,” Rex reiterates. “While I was trying to shoot her.”

Sokari lifts a hand and puts it on his far shoulder, pulling him into her side. She doesn’t meet Fett’s eyes again, because part of her is back on Mandalore, dodging her own soldiers and crying out as her family dies across the galaxy.

Fett breathes in. Breathes out. He puts a hand to his head, visibly frustrated. “Fine. A good Jedi kid, and two smaller kids, one of which is apparently in some way mine.”

Rex makes a face, which is fair, but also not helping.

“To the ship,” Sokari says, putting her sabers back on her belt and sliding out of the seat. “I’m… I’m Sokari.”  

“You already know my name.”

“I do.”

(Continue on AO3)

[septembersghost]

you don't have to answer this if it's triggery but thinking about how easily we could've lost Taylor either bc she decided to retreat forever or worse things, how likely do you think it is she'll address that or even mention suicide on this album?

i think it's highly likely, to the point where we should be prepared for it. i'm not sure how directly she'll get into it, but it's something she's been alluding to since reputation, there are small glimpses of it on lover and she mentioned it in interviews, and then of course, death is a continuous theme on folklore/evermore. as much as those albums may be draped in metaphor and stories, many of the songs are also very personal and very much about her and her experiences, but even two years ago, i don't think she was ready to put that out there in quite as vulnerable a way. it was easier to dress in a little bit of fiction - i think so much about this is me trying, since i've been in the, "i didn't know if you'd care if i came back, i have a lot of regrets about that" moments myself. "pulled the car off the road to the lookout, could've followed my fears all the way down" is her way of exposing the depth of that despair there, and it recurs, specifically on hoax, "stood on the cliffside, screaming 'give me a reason.'" i've always agreed with the thought that "my sleepless night" refers to one particularly dark and specific moment, and hoax being an enigma and about several different situations was her safe outlet of addressing it there. it feels very possible to me that that sleepless night will be one of the upcoming tracks.

i've been remembering things she said and shared in 2019. it's been exactly six years today since this journal entry:

and here are a couple of quotes that have stuck with me from lover press/speeches:

there have been things she's referenced obliquely, and others i suspect she didn't feel ready to share with us at all until now. just the admission that she felt that and struggled with those dark thoughts felt huge to me every time, be it in interviews or lyrics, and it feels like a testament to her resilience that now she's feeling brave enough to go back over those events and create art about them. (and i don't think the whole album will be sad, of course! she mentioned joy and dreams along with sorrow and nightmares). there's a real sense of desperation in the album prologue, but also clarity and catharsis and intimacy.

what's remarkable to me is the journey that's gotten her here ("hell was the journey, but it brought me heaven"). she's been through so much, extreme ups and terrible downs, and the past few years alone have had tumult for her, including professional losses that were a blow, but she's managed to spin that into gold and reclamation. from the description, i don't know that this album would even exist without the process of the re-recordings. i think folklore and evermore were hugely restorative to her, despite the difficult circumstances for her and for the world as a whole that led to their creation. and honestly it seems like she's never been healthier and happier, and that in itself is why she can go back to such vulnerable places now. you can't confront certain things when you're in them. you can't talk about certain griefs when you're too directly immersed in them, when you're too fragile. she's worked so hard to heal and to get to this place, and i'm proud of her for it. step into the daylight, and sometimes the warmth and growth of that rising sun gives you the courage to blossom and to look back on the many midnights.

[negasonicimagines]

Revelation; Part One

warnings/kinks: a/b/o (if you’re penis-repulsed this isn’t for you), smut (duh), brief daddy kink, even briefer mommy kink, cum-eating, cum-marking, cockwarming? (does it count if it’s a/b/o?), light bloodplay, borderline somniphilia (consensual), poisoning, suicidal ideation, allusions to cheating, mentions of conversion therapy, vague mentions of s*xual ass*ult (it doesn’t actually happen in the story, it’s just referred to a lot due to the nature of this universe)

uh… this is another one of those stories that’s just kinda Heavy, please be careful & don’t continue reading if doing so is unsafe for you. I have a variety of other works that don’t have such intense themes, which you can find on my masterlist!

request (+details): Omegaverse: Alphas Yukio and Ellie with a beta reader, but it turns out that reader is a late-bloomer omega who goes into her first heat unexpectedly. / Omegaverse: The setting could be anywhere. The three of them waking up with reader burning hot, believing to be sick but is actually going into heat. The reader could be by themselves when it happens and her alphas come home to a omega in heat / I can’t get this omegaverse idea out of my head, and I hope you don’t mind me telling you this. Reader being alone and confused when her heat came, her alphas gone on a mission. During the time they were gone, Reader made a nest of her alphas’s clothes out of instinct on their bed. By the time Yukio and Ellie returned, Reader is a hot mess from trying to get off, moaning their names and begging for her alphas to help her for she don’t know why she feels like this and is scared.)

synopsis: After Wade discovers you're dealing with suicidal thoughts, he takes it upon himself to help you out, leading to one disaster after another.

author’s note: thank you so much to the lovely anon who requested this for spending so much time with me & making sure everything was juuuust right! Fun fact: we pined, started dating, and broke up, started dating again, and broke up again all before this was published 🙃 sorry everybody, it’s been a rocky road for the past… forever.

Standing guard after school for a few extra bucks is a pretty sweet deal, you have to admit. You mostly just sit around with a pair of binoculars munching on your snack of choice, using a gun loaded with tranquilizer darts to drop anyone who threatens the safety of the school and its residents. If given permission, or an order to do so, you can use your bow and arrow to really take down your enemies.

You’re pretty lucky in life overall, you also have to admit, with two alpha girlfriends and a variety of friends and acquaintances, not to mention the advantages your mutation gives you.

It makes you feel even more guilty for what you’re really thinking about right now. Not Ellie, not Yukio, not keeping an eye out for threats, nothing but a simple question:

Would it be more efficient to slit your wrists with the point of one of your arrows, or to fling yourself from the top of this turret? Which would hurt worse? You look from the sharp arrow you hold in your hand to the plush grass below, managed by some of the other students.

It’s far cheaper to pay students to maintain the yard and house, not to mention it gives students like you a way of earning the kind of spending money that other students receive from their parents or from jobs in town. Your post would be snatched up in no time if you were to pass.

Speaking of parents.

Your father’s exact words to your mother were “I hate that you use a highschool mistake to keep me trapped with you forever!” the last time you happened to hear them argue. They were no longer invited to parent-teacher conferences after that.

It’s a fine reason for him to be angry, but, unfortunately, you’re the highschool mistake he was talking about. The one he’s always talking about whenever they fight. Maybe if you were gone, he’d finally be free. Maybe you’d finally be free from his resentment. He, fortunately enough, rarely lashes out at you directly; however… There’s always been a distance.

Would he love you more if you were gone? If you saved him from… Well, you? You’ve always wanted him to love you, to look at you with something other than anger or resentment. Would he finally be proud of you, for owning up to every horrible thing you are and have done by paying the ultimate price? Would everyone?

You’re holding the bladed tip of the arrow right against your wrist, almost like a normal person might hold a bracelet to their wrist -- trying it on for size, without really thinking about it.

Suddenly, though, Wade’s here. And he’s definitely thinking about it. He yanks the arrow out of your hand, accidentally snapping the wood that makes up its length.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I- Uh, I don’t know,” you mumble, embarrassed, because you honestly don’t. Being alone with your thoughts gives them the space to grow from their poisoned roots into something dark you don’t really recognize as yours.

“You- You don’t know?!” Wade questions, and the unusual severity of his tone stuns you to the point of laughter. “This isn’t fucking funny, what the hell is wrong with you? Why were you-?! What were you-?! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“I’m standing guard. What the fuck are you doing?” you echo dryly, resorting to quips to avoid telling him any more than he already knows.

“I’m freaking out! I can’t kill you for apparently wanting to kill you, so that’s all I can do! I thought you were on antidepressants!”

“I am. Have been for years. They don’t cure depression, they make it easier to manage.”

“Apparently fucking not! Come on, let’s go talk to somebody and get you an appointment with a psychiatrist. You’ve been on the same prescription all these years, right? Maybe you just need your dosage upped.” Wade’s not asking, he’s telling, his hand wrapped around your bicep to pull you along, although his grip isn’t as tight as you’d expect for a man of his stature, let alone an alpha.

Why does he care so much? He’s always so gentle, even when you piss him off like this. Tears well up in your eyes but you blink hard. You know he’s been through worse. That most people here have. You have no right to cry.

Wade yells at a surprised Charles Xavier until an appointment is set up, which goes pretty well. Four days after that incident, you meet with the psychiatrist who agrees that upping your dosage is the smartest decision, frankly, she’s surprised it wasn’t done sooner. And, after about a week of your new dosage level, you’re feeling better than ever.

Way better.

“You… You’d really wanna do that? For everyone to know I’m yours?”

Ellie nods, cheeks darkened. You’re straddling her, and the two of you have been trading heated kisses with Yukio. Who would’ve thought more of the medication you were sure killed your libido before you could even develop one would be what rescued it?

“Of course we would. I know you don’t like to stereotype, but some of the stereotypes have truth to them. We’re… Territorial,” Yukio reminds you.

“I’m… A beta,” you remind her in a teasing echo of her tone.

“Our beta,” Ellie cuts back in. “Absolutely perfect.”

“Even if I’d rather not let you guys, y’know…” Your hand rubs at the space between your neck and your shoulder - where they’d likely mark you with their teeth - nervously. “...today? Or go farther than what we’re doing right now?”

“Of course, baby! The fact that you’ve even done this much…” Yukio trails off, looking over you. Your lips are swollen and still slightly parted as you continue to pant a little. The top few buttons of your (well, borrowed from Ellie) flannel are undone.

“We’re so grateful, and so proud of you,” Ellie continues, drawing your attention back to her. “We’re willing to wait as long as you need, even if that waiting only ends because you’ve decided that being with us like that isn’t something you want.”

“I do. I always have, I just… I don’t know.”

“The feeling’s still there, in your stomach, right?” Yukio wonders.

“Yeah, a little. It’s like… I know it’s not wrong, but something doesn’t feel quite right. Maybe I should just try to ignore it, I mean, you two have needs-”

“Hey. You know better than that, Y/N. We don’t, okay, babe? Not like that. We wanna have sex with you, not- Not hurt you. You understand that, right?” Ellie reassures you.

“I do, I just feel bad for being such a- I don’t know, a tease?”

“We love you. As in, you. If you forced yourself to do something you didn’t want to, just for us, how would we forgive ourselves?” Yukio says what she’s said a million times, but every time it surprises you. You tend to see yourself as only being valuable in what you can offer others— protection, a laugh, some good advice every now and then —you never expect anyone to care for you outside of that. But here they are. Absolutely perfect.

And you were thinking of flinging yourself off a tower a couple weeks ago. Should you tell them? They just think you went for an overdue checkup, which is technically the case. You don’t know what’s worse, hiding it or telling them. You’ll have to talk to Wade, he’s good at giving advice. Might not be good advice, but he’s definitely good at giving it.

“Everything okay, sharpshooter?” Ellie hands gently squeeze your hips to get your attention.

You blink back out of your thoughts, smiling a little and blushing at the nickname.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Sorry, I just zoned out. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.”

“Everything okay?” your alphas ask, again, in unison. Your alphas. They probably couldn’t handle it if you had a problem they couldn’t solve, the guilt of not being able to provide for you would overwhelm them.

“Yeah, totally,” you reply, because it is, now, especially here with them. Ellie starts to button up your flannel.

“Oh, we don’t have to-”

Ellie gives you a pointed look, then looks down at her crotch, then back up at you. Your blush deepens.

“Yeah, I’m guessing a cold shower’s in order,” Yukio agrees. “El, you can go first.”

“We can’t go together?” Ellie asks.

“Well, I don’t wanna leave Y/N alone. Our brave little beta did a lot more than usual. Don’t want you to feel used, baby,” Yukio explains to you both.

“Oh, duh,” Ellie agrees. You give her a quick smooch on the forehead before dismounting her and allowing yourself to be pulled into Yukio’s arms. Ellie grabs some clean clothes and heads off. As soon as the door shuts, Yukio giggles, and you look to her with a curious, confused expression.

“Now you’re all mine to cuddle.” Yukio gloats, kissing the top of your head. “Mm… You smell really good, babe. New shampoo?”

“Ish, yeah,” you agree, despite the fact that you started using it nearly a month ago at this point. Maybe the body heat you built up from the makeout session made it smell stronger, though.

Yukio keeps sniffing you, but you don’t call her out on it. She’s a little bit quirky, sure, but there’s no need to make her feel self-conscious about it when the tickling sensation feels kinda nice. She tosses in a few soft presses of her lips against your skin, too, so it’s not like she’s the only one who benefits.

Yukio eventually stops this, though, instead requesting to scent you. You’ve told the girls before that they don’t have to ask, but they— especially Yukio —seem to prefer to. You figure it’s likely to reassure them that you not only tolerate but appreciate their alphahood.

“I love you, you know that? Not just ‘cause you make me smell like petrichor. I’m surprised Ellie doesn’t spend all day huffing your scent, I… I know I would, if I could smell it.” You didn’t mean for the sad envy to ring so clearly in your words, but it’s as sharp as a knife, cutting deep enough to make Yukio gasp softly with sympathy as she rubs your wrist against her scent gland, eyes snapping open.

“Well, next time it’s about to rain, we’ll go outside, then. Every time it’s about to rain,” Yukio insists. “Who- Who told you?”

“Wade. I was just curious. He said Ellie smells like a campfire, the scent even clings like it. He even said I smell a little weird. Most betas smell like something, but I’m just… A blank canvas.”

You feel her rumble a bit with a growl, and her arms wrap tightly around you… Protectively? You blush.

“Y-Yukio?” you nervously ask, caught off guard. Ellie’s usually more of the growling type. Yukio’s pretty good about keeping her possessiveness and any other “negative” alpha traits in check. This side of her doesn’t come out often.

“What was he doing that close to you?” she snarls protectively, and if the growl wasn’t enough to get your heart racing, that was. “Sm- Smelling you?”

“Yukes, Wade’s the same age as my parents. Honestly, he’s- He’s kinda- He’s nice to me. We’re friends. I think if he was going to hurt me, he would’ve done it by now. You two keep forgetting I’m just a beta. No one wants a piece of this pie except for you and Ellie.”

“You’d be surprised at the way some alphas… It’s sick, but they- Because betas, you know, they don’t really produce slick like omegas do, and they don’t have quite as much give, uh… So, some alphas, um, they… Just let me hold you, okay?” Yukio requests. “I can’t talk about it, it’ll make me too mad.”

“I respect that. Thank you. I, uh, I didn’t realize that at all, so thank you for helping me be even safer,” you reassure her. She’s trembling. “Do you want me to hold you, instead?”

“No, no, this will make me feel better. I just… I love you. Can you just…? Just- Just say you’re mine.” This is a request Yukio has semi-often. When she feels weak in comparison to other alphas, when she feels overshadowed by Ellie, any time she needs reassurance or is just feeling bad, she’ll probably ask. You get it, being hers (and Ellie’s, of course) makes you feel better, too.

“I’m yours, Yukio. Always yours. You make me so happy, both of you. Happier than- You make me feel so-“ You get a bit choked up. These girls, these alphas… They’re so important to you.

“Oh, no, baby, please don’t cry,” Yukio implores, watching your eyes water. You turn so that your face doesn’t just rest on her chest but is buried in it.

“It’s just that no one ever loved me before you two. No one, ever. Not my parents, not my ’friends,’ no one. I don’t know why I’ve been so emotional lately, I’m sorry.”

“No one at all?” Yukio questions, but that’s the missing puzzle piece, she realizes. You’re always treating hers and Ellie’s love for you like it’s something you have to earn, no matter how much they insist being yourself is enough. She fully grasps now that it’s never been enough before.

She holds you even tighter.

“Mm-mm,” you confirm, shaking your head a little. “You and Ellie just mean the whole world to me. And- And… Wade’s my friend, too. Can I still, y’know, spend time with him?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I just- He’s a nice guy, but… I don’t want him to put you in danger. You can handle yourself, though. Can’t you, sharpshooter?” Her fingers trickle up your ribs as she says the nickname, making you giggle and squirm.

“Absolutely, but it is nice to have two strong, sexy alphas take care of me instead every now and then,” you admit, albeit a bit teasingly, blushing softly. You turn back so that you can see her adorable face.

“Really?” Yukio asks, but she knows.

“Really,” you agree with a smile.

“I’m yours, too. You know that, right?” Yukio checks, fiddling with your hair a bit.

“Mhm. It’s nice to hear you say it like that, though.”

“I can think of other ways you might like to hear it,” Yukio flirts.

“Yeah, you think so? Show me,” you tease back.

“I will…” Yukio trails off as she trails her finger along your jaw, tipping your head up to the perfect kissing angle and- “Eventually, little beta.”

“I- I’m taller than you,” you weakly protest.

“Your breath still hitched,” Yukio reminds you with a giggle and a gentle tap on the tip of your nose.

You stutter a little more before giving up, burying your face again and whining.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just can’t help myself. You’re too cute,” Yukio half-heartedly apologizes, still chuckling to herself as she strokes your back.

Ellie returns from her shower, inky tendrils of hair ruffled around but with no product in.

“She’s asleep?” Ellie asks, sounding a bit disappointed, but there’s still a significant amount of fondness in her tone.

“She’s not,” you mumble back, and both girls chuckle, Yukio untangling herself from you. You can’t help but pout a little, already missing the bubblegum-haired alpha.

“I know Yukio’s your favorite, but you could at least act a little bit happy to see me,” Ellie half-jokes, and you smile, pulling (though she doesn’t give any resistance) the girl back into your bed. She holds you the same way Yukio did, but you don’t really mind the lack of variety.

“You’re both my favorite,” you argue. Ellie takes a deep breath, likely taking in the way you’re completely embraced by Yukio’s scent.

“I don’t think that’s how favorites work,” she chuckles.

“Out of all the people in the world, you two are both my favorite,” you insist. She takes the hand you have resting on her ribcage and holds it inches from her scent gland. “Please,” you say, before she can even ask. Ellie takes a whiff again.

“Did she leave anywhere untouched?” She wonders.

“N-not really,” you stutter, because now you’re thinking of where she didn’t touch you.

“Well, she’ll have to share a little, then,” Ellie says.

You hum with delight as she scents you.

“You make a new friend?” Ellie questions.

“Huh?”

“You smell… Different,” she responds, looking at you… Well, differently. “Like roses.”

“I have a new-ish shampoo?” You offer, but that just seems to intensify the look.

Your phone rings. It’s Wade. You wriggle out of Ellie’s loose hold on you, answering.

“Hey, you know how I’m your academic advisor?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well, apparently, thwarting your suicide attempts isn’t my only job. I also have to tell you when they need you in the office, which is now.”

“Seriously?! I didn’t even throw that pencil at Richard, and even if I did, he deserved it for being such a-“

“Oh, right! Should’ve opened with the good news. Your parents are here to visit.”

“What?! That’s-“ You sigh, not wanting to alarm Ellie any more than you already have. “Okay. I’ll be there. Just give me a second to get dressed.”

“Wow, no shame at all. I salute you. Toodles!” Wade hangs up before you realize he misunderstood you.

“What’s wrong?” Ellie asks.

“Nothing, just… My parents are here.”

“Your… Parents?”

“Kind of have to have those to exist, usually,” you remark, and she snorts.

“I know- I- Well, we’ve known each other for a while, and you don’t really talk about them, so I sort of assumed…” Ellie trails off.

“Oh, um, yeah, no, they’re very alive,” you confirm with an awkward chuckle.

“Right. I’ll go get ‘Kio, and we’ll all go, okay?”

“Uh- Um- Yeah.”

“What is it?”

“My parents, they kind of… They- I love you. And I’m not ashamed of you.”

“But they’ll be ashamed of you,” Ellie understands.

“I haven’t seen them in so long, they don’t even know that I like girls, let alone that I’m dating two, or that they’re both alphas… I want you and Yukio to come with me, but, if they start to- If they’re how they are, I-“

“Give my energy to helping you instead of hurting them,” Ellie uses Piotr’s words.

“Perfect,” you agree, and Ellie smiles back, but it falters. You didn’t mean to worry her so much.

“I’ll go get Yukio. You get changed, okay?”

“Mhm,” you agree, and she heads off to the bathroom. You steal one of Ellie’s band tees and an oversized cardigan of Yukio’s for comfort, finding a pair of high-waisted bottoms to tuck the tee shirt in. You throw on a pair of sneakers, and when the girls emerge from the bathroom, you pop in to freshen up.

Once you’re done, Yukio’s caught up on the situation and the three of you make your way to the front offices.

Wade meets you outside.

“Oh em gee, Y/N, you’ll never believe it, I actually went to high school with both of your parents.”

“Uh… Cool?” You respond, because you’re not entirely sure how to.

“Yeah, uh, I get now that it’s probably not really good news that they’re here, huh? No wonder I found you doing that the other day.”

“Doing what?” Yukio and Ellie ask, though for some reason, Ellie’s is tinged with suspicion, maybe even anger.

“I- Listen, it’s not a big deal, I got my prescription updated and all that good stuff, okay?” You prime them. “I was thinking about killing myself the other day and Wade caught me.”

“Thinking?! You’re gonna call holding the fucking tip of an arrow to your wrist thinking?!”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ellie sounds as angry as Wade does, but she looks pained. This is why you didn’t tell them.

“Hey, she doesn’t need this right now,” Yukio argues, but she looks hurt, too.

“I mean, I was just considering if it would be more painful than jumping off of the turret,” you mumble, your defense embarrassingly weak.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Ellie decides, and Yukio nods. You three follow Wade to Xavier’s office. Wade breezes in, but you’re practically stuck in the doorway, nervous to look at even the backs of their heads, before they turn around.

“Y/N,” your mom says with a grin, but you know all too well how fake that is. She approaches you, pulls you into a hug, and you want nothing more than to push her away and scrub yourself clean. She doesn’t really love you. The second you speak out of turn, or make a mistake, or give her any excuse, she’ll remind you of your worth. (Or, rather, the lack thereof.)

She slips back into her seat next to your father, in front of the desk where Xavier sits, simply observing.

“It’s been so long,” your father says, but his smile is almost blatantly fake. “Your hair, it’s different.”

“Like you said, it’s been a while,” you say, giving a grimace and an awkward chuckle.

“I don’t think I like it,” he says, like he’s giving his opinion on a sculpture in an art exhibit by some long-dead artist who doesn’t care what he thinks. Like it’s something just… Objective.

“Not sure what to do about that,” you reply sheepishly.

You don’t fully realize that you’re holding Ellie’s hand until she squeezes it reassuringly, three times. A secret code. You step further in to make room for the girls.

“So, uh, I have to ask… Why the sudden visit?”

“Well, we got an e-mail about your medicine, and we wanted to come check on you. Make sure this is the right environment for you,” your mother explains.

“You weren’t sure before you stopped talking to me for two years?” You half-joke, playing dumb.

“Has it really been two years?” A normal person would be asking this rhetorically, and they’d be embarrassed. Your mother, though, is simply trying to gaslight you.

“Longer,” you assure her.

“I thought this place was supposed to provide conversion therapy,” your father says, eyeing your hand, then Ellie’s other hand. “You’re such a fucking liar,” he hisses to your mother.

“Wow, maybe my mom dying when I was young was for the best. Better than this for sure,” Wade jokes, gently elbowing your side. You chuckle, grateful for even the slightest ounce of comic relief.

“You’re even more of a freak than you were in high school.” You squeeze Ellie’s hand tight as your father’s expression darkens even further.

“Funny you should say that, considering-“

“Wade,” your mother cuts him off.

That’s weird, to say the least. You just file that away for later. You have bigger fish to fry, like surviving this visit.

“Y/N, why’d you go for a check-up at all? You barely needed the anti-depressants in the first place,” your mother wonders.

“Because it wasn’t barely. Why else would they raise the dosage?” You ask, and the expression on her face is as stupid as the question she asked.

“Don’t speak to her that way,” your father scolds, like he didn’t just call your mother a fucking liar himself. “You are so ungrateful for everything we’ve done for you, do you realize that?”

“I’m sorry, what have you done for her, exactly? Answer quickly, please,” Ellie retorts.

“El-“ you start, but realize this isn’t anger, but advocacy.

“Well, we sheltered and fed her for over a decade,” your father remarks, smirking like he’s won.

“That’s your job!” Wade argues.

“Mr. and Mrs. L/N… I politely asked that you refrain from visiting the campus, and while I appreciate your concern for Y/N’s well-being, I must ask that you remain respectful of her, her fellow students, and my staff. Causing unnecessary conflict is exactly the reason you were almost banned when you last visited,” Professor Xavier finally speaks.

“Almost banned?!” Wade wheezes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, and Wade’s laughter immediately ceases. “I was cheating in school, according to- To Dad.” The word is poison in your mouth.

“Come on, we all know you’re not smart enough to get those grades on your own. Probably screwing some teacher, just like Mom.”

“That’s enough,” Ellie snarls, eyes glowing orange.

“I never screwed a teacher!” Your mother protests at the same time.

“Oh, that’s right, you just blew Mr. Morin. My bad. Wow, Y/N, you really must be something special for all these alphas to be fawning over you. Maybe I did fuck up once or twice, after all, I’ve heard daddy issues-“

“Well, you visited! Now get the fuck out,” Wade chirps.

“Mr. L/N, must I repeat myself? I know you and Mrs. L/N were interested in a tour. Perhaps a less crowded area would help ease your minds,” Xavier reminds you all of his presence once more.

“That sounds like a great idea,” your father agrees.

“I’m starting to get a bit of a headache, maybe you could show us your room first and I could lie down for a bit in there?”

“I-“ You look to the girls, not wanting them to have to deal with her alone.

“Actually, Miss Phimister and Miss Kitsuna would be perfect additions to a rescue team. The orphanage your friend Russell came from was actually part of a network for mutant trafficking, and we found another hub in Maine. The jet takes off in fifteen minutes, and you two will be back in time for dinner. Better get ready and briefed.”

“But-“ Yukio starts, looking to you.

“Go, be superheroes,” you tell them, and they head out. “Uh, how about we swing by the library first, to give them time to change, and then to our room?”

“You share a room with them? Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

“We were roommates before we started dating,” you correct him.

“Dating… Aw, I bet you really think that’s what it is, too. Having parents in a sham of a marriage really did a number on you, huh?” Your father condescends.

“You know, it’s pretty fucked up how fixated you are on her sexuality. Do you like to picture it, you goddamn creep?” Wade defends you, and your skin crawls. You’d never thought of it that way before.

“Let’s just get that tour started, ‘kay?” You squeak. The sooner you get this over with, the sooner they’ll be on their way, hopefully.

“Good idea, Y/N,” Wade says. “Come on, Textbook, let’s go.”

“You didn’t just call me-“

“Oh, but I did, Textbook. Hey, Y/N, did you know that was your dad’s nickname in highschool? ‘Cause he was so fuckin’ easy to shove in a locker.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to laugh and failing.

“Just show us the library already, Y/N,” your mother says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

You take your parents to the library, as requested. Wade keeps pace with you while your parents fall back. You can’t hear their exact words, but you know your parents are bickering.

“You never said it was this bad.”

“It’s not that bad. It’s definitely been worse,” you admit, busying your eyes with the paintings that line the walls so that you don’t have to meet Wade’s gaze. You might just cry if you do; you can feel the sympathy radiating off of him.

In these past few months, Wade’s been more of a father than your dad, even more of a mother than your mom, but for some reason that doesn’t make you feel more justified in how you feel about your parents. In fact, it just makes you feel worse, and even if you’ve never actually expressed it, you’re still ashamed of the fact that you wish Wade was your father instead. He actually cares, while your parents are simply legally obligated.

From the day you met, Wade’s always been there for you. If you were to tell your parents what you almost did the other day, they’d just call you attention-seeking and insult you in other ways. All they’d do is make you want to try again.

You and Wade stop at the entrance to the library and wait for your parents to catch up. They do, and you open the double doors to reveal the room.

“It’s like Beauty and the Beast,” your mother gapes.

“I thought so, too,” you agree, attempting a smile, but your parents just ignore you, wandering around the large room. Your mother excuses herself after a few minutes of spinning, saying that the dizziness is making her headache worse.

“All these books and you’re still… The way you are,” your father comments, looking at you with such disdain.

“Winner of the science fair with her loving partners, three years in a row?” Wade questions. “Oh, or maybe you’re talking about the fact that she’s a published poet. How embarrassing for you, I’m sure.”

“Wade,” you protest under your breath, embarrassed. They don’t even know that stuff. After middle school, you stopped telling them about your accomplishments. You figured out that all they’d do is ruin them for you.

“No, no, trust me. It’s more about the fact that she’s slutting around with alphas and won’t even save us the embarrassment of them being girls,” you father spats.

“That’s enough,” Wade snarls.

“Oh, that’s right, we can’t forget that she’s yours, too. I guess anything with a dick is daddy considering I was too busy putting food on the table to play dollies,” he remarks, and you suddenly feel light-headed.

“Seriously, Textbook, I really don’t want to hurt you, especially not in front of Y/N, but I fucking will if you make me.”

“Just go,” you urge Wade, starting to feel a bit dizzy, surely from the stress. You brace yourself on him, disguising it as a touch meant to comfort him. He looks concerned as the edges of your vision start to darken a little.“I- What you’re doing, I appreciate it, but-“

“You appreciate it? You appreciate him disrespecting me, disrespecting our family?!”

“Our family?!” You finally snap. “All I ever wanted was for you to love me, and you couldn’t do that. You just couldn’t. And now we’re a family?! No. No, you…” You start to pant, your face feeling even hotter than before. “You… I hate you,” you manage to get out before your world goes completely dark.

“Fuck yeah, Y/N! I’m so prou-“

But when Wade turns to you, you’re halfway to the ground. He catches you, though, and he catches a whiff of something… Familiar.

Lavender. It’s not just the Wilson scent, sure, but it’d be too much of a coincidence. You smell just like him. You are him, or, rather, made of him.

He’s torn between ecstatic and furious.

“Hey, can we get some help over here?” your father calls out to no one. It’s not a school day, and lots of students are out on missions. He reaches out to you for once in your life, but Wade’s now sitting on the floor, cradling you in his arms.

“No,” Wade argues. “Not yours. Mine.”

“What?” You father asks incredulously. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s. Not. Yours,” Wade repeats, and the more he inhales your scent, the more out of control yet calm he feels. Like he’s in the eye of a hurricane. “My baby. Mine.”

“You’re not saying…” your father trails off as Wade gets up, still cradling you. Wade has to take you to your room; help make you a nest, now. He can smell it on you.

You’re in heat.

He gets to your room quickly, practically tossing you onto your bed. Wait… Isn’t your mom supposed to be here?

And that’s when he hears the sound of pills spilling onto the floor.

He nearly rips the bathroom door off of its hinges. Luckily, your mother spilled what Wade quickly realizes is suppressants, and not your prescription.

“You. You could’ve killed her. You are very, very lucky that my baby-“

“Our baby,” your mother corrects.

“No, you take pills, you can’t even smell her, let alone feel her like I can. It- It’s so much it fucking hurts. I’ll say it again, you’re very lucky my baby is in heat, or your arteries would be emptying in that shower. Now, go. Don’t come back.”

You groan in pain, stirring, and your mother takes Wade’s advice. Wade calls Yukio. Then Ellie. Then Yukio. Then Ellie.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“You need to turn around. Now. I don’t have the time to explain. It’s Y/N.”

“Is she okay?” Ellie, always skeptical, asks.

“Obviously fucking not, or I wouldn’t be calling. She’s in heat.”

“But-“

“I said that I don’t have time to explain, fucking turn around! I’m on the verge of going fucking feral, Ellie. You both need to get here, now.”

“Wade, get out,” Ellie immediately demands.

“I can’t,” he admits.

“Get out! Shit, Wolverine! We need to turn around!”

“I can’t. It’s not like that I swear, it’s… I’m going fucking crazy, just one of you will do, but someone needs to get here.”

“Wade, go.”

“I would never hurt her! Come home!” Wade barks before hanging up. He returns to your room to find you’ve made a nest instinctively - thank goodness for Yukio’s affinity for pillows and blankets - and now you’re curled up in pain in the center of it.

“Wade,” you whimper. He’s scared to step closer, not sure if he’s what you want, even if you despise who you thought was your father. “What’s happening to me? Everything hurts.”

“I really don’t know how to say this, but… You’re in heat.”

“But I’m a beta,” you argue, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“That’s what we all thought. But… Remember how you didn’t smell like anything before? Uh, let me start over. When did you start on your anti-depressants?”

“I was about twelve,” you confirm, not sure what that means.

“Yeah, I think those were suppressants. That it’s always been suppressants, no matter what the bottles said. Until you got a prescription without your mother knowing. Do you understand why your mother would do that?”

You shake your head, and he approaches the bed, sitting down carefully as not to disturb your work.

“Her boyfriend around the time she got pregnant with you was a beta. We know him as Textbook,” Wade teases, before continuing: “But, what no one realizes is that he was at Niagara Falls on spring break around the time when you were conceived, and she was hanging out with her next-door neighbor the whole time. Her next-door neighbor was me.”

“Oh, so I’m your highschool mistake,” you say, connecting the dots.

“Huh?”

“Ha, well, whenever my parents- Well, I guess not my parents, but that’s beside the point, uh, whenever they argue and it gets really bad, my father- Well, not my father, but, uh-“

“Continue,” Wade urges.

“Basically, sometimes he uses ‘a mistake I made in highschool’ as code for ‘Y/N,’” you explain. “But the truth is, I’m the mistake you made in highschool.”

“You’re not a mistake,” he disagrees. “You’re- You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Lots of things are made by accident, but that doesn’t make them mistakes! Penicillin, potato chips, Post-It notes, popsicles! They were never supposed to exist but they do and the world is much better off with them in it.”

“You really do have a lot of useless knowledge,” you realize.

“So do you, that’s why our team always wins trivia night.” Wade slips off his boots, joining you in your rearranged bed. “C’mere,” he suggests, guiding your head to his neck.

“S’really you,” you mumble, already weary, and Wade worries for what’s to come. He almost doesn’t even want to let the girls in. He could get you pain medicine, he could probably even find sedatives. Then no one would ever be able to even touch you, let alone hurt you. “Lavender. You never mentioned the lavender, just the sandalwood.”

“I didn't think you’d be impressed,” Wade admits.

“It’s relaxing,” you tell him. “It’s nice to have things in common with someone.”

“You smell like roses, too, not just lavender,” he makes sure you know.

“Yeah, but I think that’s mostly concentrated in an area I’d rather not discuss with you.”

“Well, just make sure that if you do decide to do anything more with them than cuddle, which I can gladly go through the rest of my life without knowing, bee-tee-dubs, that the girls are wearing alpha condoms, especially if one of them knots you. Standard condoms work in a pinch if it’s just for one, y’know, go, but for heats they’re basically useless because of everything I just said. If they hurt you, I will make their deaths look like accidents.”

“S’not like I can get pregnant anyway…” You mumble, embarrassed. “I’m- I’m really glad it’s you. I- I wished so many times that it was you instead of him. Ow, ugh, that one was bad,” you groan, massaging your stomach.

Meanwhile, on the jet, Ellie is furious with herself.

“Yukio, you don’t get it, I smelled her. She smelled like an omega, but I thought- I assumed she was cheating on us. That maybe she didn’t want to be with us like that was because she wanted to- I don’t know, to be on top? It seems so stupid now.”

“Hey, I noticed she smelled different, too. There were other signs we both missed, anyways. Think about how emotional she’s been lately, or how much farther we’ve been going in other ways. How clingy she’s been, too.”

“I guess I didn’t really notice it because I liked her being more open and needing us more,” Ellie admits. “She- She almost fucking killed herself. And I thought cheating was what she was hiding. I- I just-“

“You can’t beat yourself up over it,” Yukio insists. “We’re on our way back, and Wade’s there to protect her.”

Speaking of Wade being there to protect you, he continues to comfort you as the pain gets worse.

“S’too hot,” you complain, and he releases you from his hold, rising from the bed. He knows he’ll have to leave you soon, because you’re likely going to need privacy before the girls get home, but it’s hard to part from you knowing you’re in pain.

“I’m gonna get you some water, okay? And after that, I’m just gonna stand guard outside the door until your girls get here. I know there’s some stuff you need to do, and that’s only gonna get worse.”

“It’s already awful,” you admit, and he chuckles.

“Good luck, kid. I love you.”

Wade gets a case of bottled water from the school’s industrial-sized pantry, bringing it to your room and tearing it open for you before leaving once more. You take one, immediately guzzling it down.

In privacy, you take off Yukio’s cardigan and your bottoms, leaving you in Ellie’s tee shirt and your underwear. You decide to go ahead and free yourself from the constriction that is your bra, feeling a bit embarrassed that you’re not leaving much to the girls’ imagination for your first time together. You eventually decide to undress completely, wondering when the hell your girls are gonna get here.

[phoebe-delia]

11

Hello, nonnie! Thanks ever so much for this request. Song 11 is "long story short" by Taylor Swift! This is one of my favorites from evermore, and I love it for Drarry. I was especially inspired by the bridge. Enjoy!

CW: slight implication of past suicidal thoughts, but I promise this isn't all that angsty and it has a happy/hopeful ending!

Dear Draco,

It is a testament to my respect for Healer Rostova that I'm writing this letter. Honestly, years ago—when I was you, I suppose—I'd have thought that this exercise was for mentally ill people who were stuck ruminating on the past.

Well, considering that I have recently accepted the fact that we belong to this classification, I think this exercise is all the more prudent, even according to our old standards.

I picture you reading this at, oh, roughly 17 years old. You're newly Marked and starting to realize what it is your father has gotten you into, what it is you've agreed to.

I'd ask you to close your eyes, but I imagine you need to keep them open to read this letter. Also, you won't read this, because Time-Turners are now banned and I'm not willing to test the extent of Harry's influence with the Wizengamot for a second time.

Yes, I referred to him as Harry. Don't worry, we still call him Potter when he being a particularly annoying prat. But our relationship now lacks the violence to which you're accustomed.

Anyway, Draco, I want you to imagine yourself at 26. You wear your hair loose and without that horrid gel that you used for so long, and it's short, unlike Father's. You're healthy, now, eating actual meals instead of subsisting on apples and fear. You don't have dark circles under your eyes, and you smile more—genuine smiles; they aren't the weakness that Father said they were. There's power in happiness.

I imagine this vision sounds rather familiar; it's one with which you like to comfort yourself when you find yourself on the verge of a panic attack. You give yourself the respite of delusion, imagining a future in which you're not only alive, but you're thriving with everything you've ever wanted: true friends, stability, and him.

It's real, Draco. You're alive, you have friends, you're stable, and you have him. You call him Harry, but you also call him "love" and he calls you "babe" and you're thriving, together.

Starting at this age, you're going to learn to trust your inner voices rather than the one that sounds distinctly like Father. You'll listen to that voice when it tells you to lower your wand in the Astronomy Tower. You'll listen to it when it tells you not to give Potter up at the Manor. You'll listen when it tells you to apologize, to keep your head down, to go back to Hogwarts—to unlearn the lessons of the old voice.

I know it feels as if you'll forever be defined by the last seven years, but I'm eight years past where you are now and I can say with confidence that you are so much more capable—more courageous—than you think. And it's Harry, of all people, who is going to teach you that. Let him, Draco. Let him try to show you how he sees you through his eyes. You won't believe him entirely—Merlin knows I struggle to believe it sometimes—but if he's known you at your worst and chooses to see you at your best, then perhaps you can, too.

I suppose that's the point of this letter. Here I am, reflecting on what I wish I could tell you, past Draco, about yourself. The things I see in you—in us. The future we have.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go. I'm going to fold this parchment and seal it with a spell and tuck it into a drawer within this desk. And then I will walk into the living room of the flat I share with Harry and I will snog him senseless. And I'm going to do those things because I can—because we can.

Thank you, past Draco, for sticking around so that we can have the present, and the future.

Sincerely,

Draco

Send me an ask, or something about musicals, Drarry, Harry Potter, fanfic, Taylor Swift, The West Wing, or life in general!

Also, I have a playlist of my 99 most listened-to songs of the year so far. Pick a number 1--99 and send me an ask and I'll write you a fic based on it!