#so he’s stuck in this emotional limbo of wanting to enjoy having long hair and wearing flower accessories and just beign him

[dannybobany]

Hey hey it’s Marzenie posting again, very simple statement I would like to make about this AU

Basil looks like his mom.

That’s it, that’s the post ignoring the many many tags

[my-intrusive-stories]

Vampire! Engen x Female! Reader: Holding On To You Part 2

Word Count ~ 5313 Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence and Death Notes: I'm so sorry for the delay with this chapter. I wanted to give it the ending it deserved but kept rewriting parts. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I'll try to have my next work done at some point on Monday, but pls bear with me since I have midterms this week.

Hours? Days? Weeks? It was hard to keep track of time when everything was pitch black. After getting shot by the Hunter, Cyrus, you’d been in this strange place for god knows how long. Either this was the afterlife, or you got stuck in a bizarre limbo between life and death. Hopefully, it was the latter.

Another indeterminate period passed before you got tired of staying in place. If something was going to happen, it would have already happened. So you picked a direction and walked. The dark abyss seemed endless. No matter how far you walked or looked, there was only inky darkness.

More time passed, and you were beginning to feel disheartened. Nevertheless, you pressed on. Dying wasn’t an option. People were waiting on the other side. Suddenly, there was a small glimmer of light in the distance. You blinked, thinking it was a hallucination, but no, there was something there. Excited by the prospect of a way out, you started to run toward the light.

Meanwhile, three days had passed in the real world. Everyone in the castle was becoming more worried. You were still unconscious and running a high fever. Even the doctor, Vector, was nervous. Usually, patients would have some semblance of consciousness after several days.

“I’ve never seen a case like this,” the pumpkin-headed man told the anxious onlookers. “(Y/N)’s wounds healed at a rate faster than an average Supernatural, yet she won’t wake up. Her current condition may have something to do with her memory loss.”

“She isn’t in danger of dying, though, right?” Rachel asked apprehensively. If another one of her loved ones died, she wouldn’t know what to do.

“Luckily, (Y/N) seems stable, minus the fever. The best I can do now is put a cold towel on her head.”

“Thank goodness,” Baekji breathed out. You’d risked your life to save hers by getting animal blood in Hunter-infested woods. If you died, she’d feel unbearably guilty.

“Alright,” Vector clapped. “Everyone get out. Crowding in this room is bringing up the temperature. Especially you, Bagna.” He shot a look at the fire spirit. “If you want (Y/N) to recover, give her space to breathe.”

There was some grumbling from the masses, but who were they to disobey the doctor’s orders? Slowly, the Supernaturals filed out of the room. All except for two.

“When I said everyone, I did mean everyone, Engen,” Vector said sternly. His tone softened when he continued, though. “I know you’re worried, but standing over her body won’t do any good for either of you.”

The brown-haired vampire remained silent as he looked at your unconscious figure. Had it not been for the sheen of sweat covering your body, he’d think you were sleeping peacefully. Engen preferred the serene expression on your face to the one he’d witnessed when the Hunter put a bullet through your chest. Guilt tugged at his chest as he remembered how he couldn’t do anything to prevent this. Giving one last glance toward you, Engen retreated to his room to stew in his emotions.

Nearly a hundred years had passed since everyone he loved died. Engen thought he had moved on, but then you showed up. Everything about you was practically identical to his first love. From looks to personality, you were the spitting image of his (Y/N). The only solace was that your eyes were (Y/E/C) and not golden. Still, when he heard Rachel call you (Y/N), Engen nearly punched a hole in the wall. It was as if the world was playing tricks on him.

Bringing you back to the castle was a selfish decision he instantly regretted. Associating with Supernaturals as a human was a death sentence. Still, he clung to the ghost of his (Y/N). Now, you were suffering for his choices. As he lay sleeplessly on his bed, Engen decided he’d do anything possible to keep you safe. No one would touch you again.

Back in the strange, dark world, you were still running. Little by little, the light got brighter. It spurred you on. Had this been the real world, you’d have collapsed from exhaustion, but things functioned differently here. One step at a time, the finish neared. After what felt like an eternity, the end was right in front of you. Right before you could pass through, though, the brilliant glare blinded you. It caused you to fall through. Instead of bracing for impact, every muscle went limp.

When you tried to open your eyes and get up, nothing happened. There was only a stinging pain in your knees and the feeling of grass on your face. Where the hell was this?

“What did you do this time, (Y/N)?” a voice suddenly asked. It sounded like a young boy– a very exasperated young boy.

“Well, I tripped on a rock.” That was your voice? Why did it sound so childish? And who was it that asked the question? Only the Supernaturals at the castle knew of the temporary name Rachel gave you.

That query didn’t last long since you glanced upwards and saw a brown-haired boy with blue-grey eyes. He looked uncannily similar to Engen. Even the slight frown was the same, though the child didn’t have a scar.

As abruptly as he showed up, the Engen look-alike turned to leave. An arm reached out toward his back.

“Don’t leave me again,” you whined involuntarily. It was as if you were a passenger in your own body while someone made decisions for you.

The boy let out a sound of annoyance but turned around anyway. He wasted no time putting you on his back and walking toward a house. Apparently, you shrank because there was no way a child could carry you. This situation was like a strange hallucination.

After carrying you silently for a few minutes, the boy arrived at the house. Before he could knock on the door, it swung open, revealing a cheerful woman and someone you assumed to be her husband. They looked just like you.

“Hello, Engen,” the woman exclaimed cheerfully. “It’s nice to see you. What brings you here?”

“Hello, Mrs. (L/N). (Y/N) fell again, so I brought her back.”

“Again?” she sighed. “Thank you for bringing my clumsy daughter home.”

The woman scooped you up and placed you on a chair. A light flick landed on your forehead, but all you could think about was the information you’d just hear. According to Rachel, Engen was close to one hundred years old. Why would this weird dream involve both of you as children? You weren’t even alive back then, right?

Bandages wrapping around your knee snapped you out of your thoughts. You watched as the woman who claimed to be your mother tenderly wrapped your knees. Her eyebrows furrowed as if she was doing the most delicate of tasks. It made your heart swell. If this was a dream, it wasn’t a bad one.

Suddenly, everything began to blur. The scenery changed from inside your home to a tree near a lake. Sitting near the edge of the water was a slightly older Engen. He stared into the shimmering expanse of liquid with a serene expression. In all your time at the castle, you’d never seen such a peaceful expression on the vampire’s face. You honestly didn’t want to disturb him, but that wasn’t your choice to make at the moment. 

“Hey, Engen,” you shouted while sprinting up to him. The boy turned toward you. From behind your back, you produced a book. Engen’s eyes lit up ever so slightly when he recognized the cover. How cute.

 “Happy birthday!” you panted out. “Just wanted to give you this. I’ll get going now.”

Once you handed him the book, you turned to leave, but a grip on your wrist stopped you. Engen’s demeanor seemed softer than before.

“I don’t mind if you stay for a bit,” he mumbled while avoiding your eyes. A bright smile spread across your face. Together, you admired the sparkling lake. As you looked into the reflective water, you realized with a start that instead of (Y/E/C), your eyes appeared to be golden.

With that discovery, the world blurred out once again. Another scene played through. And another. And another. Each scenario felt nostalgic for some reason. You dismissed those thoughts every time, though. The gap between your childhood and Engen’s spanned decades. Whoever’s eyes you were seeing through must have been your ancestor or something. If these were real memories, you were simply a spectator in someone else’s body.

Slowly, you let yourself be immersed in this girl’s memories. Using the recollections, you pieced together her life. The golden-eyed girl’s father was an apothecary, and her mother bounded books. They were best friends with Engen’s parents. As it turns out, only Engen’s father, Davon, was a vampire. He’d wandered around before falling in love with a human and settling down.

Using his status as an apothecary, (Y/N)’s father helped explain away Davon’s strange habits as a result of an illness. Instead of human blood, Engen and his father consumed animal blood. They also filed their canine teeth. Since the Supernatural panic hadn’t begun yet, no one in the village suspected a thing.

(Y/N)’s life was actually quite happy. There was never a dull moment, as she constantly sought new things. Learning medicine? Done. Swimming? Been there. Knife-throwing? That was just a Friday. And through it all, she dragged Engen, much to his chagrin. Even though he pretended to be uninterested, the young vampire never declined your invitations. He was obviously smitten with (Y/N) but oblivious that she reciprocated his feelings.

Everything seemed great until you were transported into a new scene. (Y/N) was dragging Engen into her home. Just as she opened the door, Davon’s voice resonated through the living room.

“They’re going to kill us, dammit. And if they discover that you’ve been helping us, you’ll die, too.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. Her father’s and Davon’s heads whipped toward their children. They hadn’t expected their early arrival.

“What’s this about?” Engen demanded. Of the two teens, he was the calmest. (Y/N) tried to mask her concern, but she was still trembling slightly.

The two fathers tried to shrug it off by saying, “It was nothing” and “Don’t worry about it,” but (Y/N) was having none of it. A frown slipped onto her face.

“Don’t say you’ll die, then tell us it’s nothing. Engen is already nineteen, and I’m about to turn eighteen. We have a right to know. You can’t keep us sheltered forever.”

Silence filled the room. Frustrated by the lack of communication, (Y/N) spun around and left the house. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere away from that situation was good enough. Engen followed her until she sat down near the lake. He saw the shake of (Y/N)’s shoulders as she tried to conceal her crying. Not knowing what to do, the vampire sat next to her and offered (Y/N) his shoulder until her tears ran out. Silence followed as the two watched the sunset on the lake. 

“Hey, Engen,” (Y/N) murmured. The young man let out a quiet hum. “I love you.”

Wasting no time, Engen tilted her head upward and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was filled with years of unspoken feelings. It was so raw and emotional that you felt guilty for intruding by watching through (Y/N)’s perspective.

When the two finally pulled apart, they looked into each other’s eyes. Gold bore into blue, and blue bore into gold. Engen then stood up slowly and offered his hand to (Y/N).

“Let’s go back. Our fathers should be ready to talk now.”

(Y/N) reached out and grabbed Engen’s hand. “Sounds good,” she agreed while standing up. Before she could stand up fully, though, Engen pulled her into a hug.

“I love you, too,” the vampire whispered in her ear. Heat filled (Y/N)’s face while goosebumps covered her skin. Engen wasn’t usually one to verbalize his feelings. Her heart felt like it was trying to escape its confines.

A dazed look was plastered on (Y/N)’s face. How was she supposed to function properly after that? Seeing the flustered look on her face, Engen smirked mischievously. That only served to make (Y/N) even more embarrassed. He was too damn attractive. Using her mental state to his advantage, Engen swept her off her feet and carried her back home.

When they arrived, their mothers had joined the meeting as well. The women noticed Engen and (Y/N)’s slightly swollen lips and began to snicker despite the grave atmosphere. It helped relieve some of the tension.

“So,” your father began, “I’d like to start by apologizing for not telling you this as soon as we learned about it. You deserved to know sooner, but we didn’t want you to worry. In the end, it made you worry more.”

(Y/N) nodded as if to say she accepted the apology.

“With that, let’s get down to the issue at hand,” Davon said seriously. “There’s this new group of people who call themselves Hunters. They hate all Supernaturals and want to eradicate them. Your father,” he looked at (Y/N), “has heard from some patients that some will be coming to this village. If they catch wind that Engen and I are vampires and you helped keep us concealed, they may kill us all.”

“On whose authority?” (Y/N) questioned. “There isn’t a single law stating that you can’t associate with Supernaturals.”

Engen’s mother chimed in. “They have connections and money. Most places turn a blind eye to their actions.”

“So what can we do? Move somewhere else? If they’re as well connected as you say, they’ll probably have stations in other villages.”

“We’ll just have to carry on as we usually have. Any sudden changes to our behavior may arouse suspicion. A Hunter won’t stick around if there are no signs of a Supernatural.”

The idea of passively waiting for the Hunters to leave wasn’t optimal, but there weren’t any other reasonable options. Everyone in the room looked grim. How could they not? Their lives were being threatened by strangers with a hatred for people they’d never met.

“That settles it then,” (Y/N)’s mother concluded. “We’ll have to prepare before the Hunters arrive, but I’m sure everyone here is getting tired. Tomorrow morning, we can sort out the finer details.”

Nods of agreement were shared. With that, the meeting was adjourned. Engen’s parents said their goodbyes and left, but Engen lingered around the door. He seemed to be waiting for (Y/N).

She quietly slipped out of the house and looped her arms around the vampire’s neck. In response, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into a kiss. (Y/N) pulled away breathlessly but was brought back into another kiss almost immediately.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Engen whispered against her lips. One of her arms unwrapped from her lover’s neck as she cupped one of his cheeks. 

“I’ll be waiting,” (Y/N) smiled. The two released each other from their embrace slowly. Neither wanted to go. After lingering glances, Engen turned and started back to his home.

Despite the grave situation, (Y/N) felt giddy. After years of pining, she and Engen were lovers. The lovestruck expression on her face didn’t leave as she went back inside. Unexpectedly, her mother was waiting for her.

“Did you have fun?” Heat flooded (Y/N)’s face. “Don’t answer that. I’m just teasing you. What your father and I really wanted to do is give you this. If you find yourself in a dire situation, follow the instructions here.”

She handed her daughter a notebook. When you saw it, shock ripped you from your immersion in (Y/N)’s memories. That was your notebook. Why was it here? An uneasy feeling filled your chest at the sight of the familiar item. Before you could question it too deeply, the world blurred, and you were thrust into a new memory.

This time, (Y/N) was in the forest. She seemed to be looking for a specific plant, but it was nowhere to be found. Sticks cut at her knees as she crawled around. A groan of frustration left her lips as the plant evaded her.

“Is this the right plant?” Engen questioned as he crouched next to (Y/N). The plant in his hand had bright red berries and thorns along the stem. You recognized it as hellebore.

“Yes, it is,” (Y/N) exclaimed happily. She pecked her lover’s cheek. “You’re brilliant. Once we get home, my dad and I can make the extract you use to dull your eyes. It’s sad, honestly. Your eyes are so pretty when they glow, but we wouldn’t want any Hunters to see them.”

What? Your notebook said hellebore extract was supposed to be used once a week to relieve stress. What’s this about it being used to reduce the eye glow of Supernaturals? Something was wrong either with your notebook or these memories. These slight idiosyncrasies were becoming more and more unnerving.

Once again, the scene shifted. (Y/N) was at the marketplace buying groceries. Nothing seemed significant about the memory until a Hunter approached her. He was trying to flirt with her but would not take the hint.

Done with hinting, she dropped premises of subtlety and stated, “I already have a lover. Leave me alone.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer a Hunter? We’re quite powerful, you know.” 

She’d prefer to retch on his shoes. Had (Y/N) not wanted to arouse suspicion, she’d have caved the bastard’s nose in. As she attempted to walk away, Engen appeared out of the corner of her eye. He looked downright murderous. (Y/N) tried to signal to him to not intervene, but when the sleazy Hunter grabbed her arm, the sound of a fist connecting to a cheek filled the street. Even in the daylight, Engen’s strength was nothing to scoff at.

“How dare you touch a Hunter,” the man screamed. His cheek was already swelling.

“How dare you touch my lover,” Engen countered. He’d wrapped his arms protectively around (Y/N)’s waist. She was trying desperately not to laugh. “Let’s go home.”

The Hunter’s screams of “I won’t forget this” faded as they walked away. You had a sinking feeling that he wouldn’t.

That festering feeling followed you into the next memory. In your experience, a Hunter only left a grudge alone once it was paid back tenfold. You could only hope the following memory was a happy one.

The beginning of the memory gave you hope. (Y/N) and Engen were on a walk through the forest. (Y/N) would spew facts about plants while Engen simply listened. Every few minutes, he’d press a light kiss to her knuckles. Each time, without fail, the vampire’s actions caused (Y/N)’s face to heat up. It made him chuckle.

“You’re such a jerk. Constantly teasing me. How would you feel if I just–” (Y/N) grabbed his collar and pulled him into a kiss. When they pulled away, Engen paused to think for a second.

“I think you need to do that again, so I know how I really feel.” A teasing grin was plastered on his face.

Unable to look at her lover, (Y/N) smacked him lightly with her bag and stepped out of the forest. Right before she made a witty comeback, the young woman looked toward her house. All coherent thoughts disappeared from her head as two familiar figures were being dragged out of the building. Those were her parents. Following closely behind were Engen’s. The silver shackle on Davon’s ankle gleamed in the sunlight.

As they were hauled outside, the older vampire’s booming voice could be heard across the field. He yelled at the Hunters not to touch his wife or (Y/N)’s parents. His pleas were all for naught, though. Four gunshots rang through the air. 

(Y/N)’s knees gave out. Everything went fuzzy. This couldn’t be happening. Bile rose in her throat. Dull pounding filled her ears. Nothing was processing correctly.

Meanwhile, Engen was shaking (Y/N) to snap her out of her daze, but it was futile. The shock of watching her parents die was too strong. With no other options left, the vampire picked up his lover and ran back into the cover of the forest. One of the Hunters spotted them, so it was only a matter of time before they’d catch up.

Engen ran for several hours before he found a cave to rest in. He gently set (Y/N) down, then leaned against the cold stone walls. Reality set in and filled his eyes with pain. Next to him, tears streamed down (Y/N)’s face. Their parents had been ripped away from them in mere minutes.

“I’m sorry for freezing back there,” (Y/N) croaked. “I just… I don’t know. What do we do now?”

Engen absentmindedly stroked his lover’s knuckles. “Let’s just rest for now.”

“Okay,” she murmured. “Love you.” Almost instantly, (Y/N) dozed off, but not before feeling Engen pull her close and kiss her forehead. 

Hours later, they were on the move again. The Hunters were undoubtedly on their trail. It put the couple on edge. Every rustle in the bushes made them jump. Every shadow looked like an enemy. 

“I feel paranoid,” (Y/N) whispered. “Like at any moment, a bunch of Hunters could jump out.”

No response. Engen had a faraway look in his eyes. So (Y/N) poked him.

“What’s wrong? You seem distracted.”

“I need blood. It’s been too long since I’ve eaten.”

Not hesitating, (Y/N) presented her neck toward the vampire. Engen looked conflicted, but before he could do anything, a bullet flew dangerously close to his head. The Hunters had found them. Wasting no time, they ran as fast as their legs would take them. 

Escape seemed attainable, but as fate would have it, they came across a cliff. There was nowhere else to run. 

One of the Hunters stepped into the clearing. It was the man from the market. A sick grin spread across his face as he said, “I told you I wouldn’t forget.” Three other Hunters appeared in quick succession. They moved to subdue Engen. Usually, three humans would be no match for him, but the sunlight and his weakened state were disadvantageous. (Y/N) tried to move toward Engen and assist him, but the sleazy Hunter had other plans for her.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart, or else I’ll blow that bloodsucker’s brain out.” (Y/N) complied. “See, that’s not so hard. Now,” he slid behind her and pointed the gun at Engen’s head, “I want you to watch him suffer.”

(Y/N) watched in horror as a Hunter poured holy water on their hand, then gripped Engen’s face. Holy water burned the skin of Supernaturals. Horror turned to rage. Like hell were these bastards going to kill someone she held dear. 

Using his temporary distraction to her advantage, (Y/N) grabbed the hand that held the gun and tried to wrestle it away. At the same time, Engen bit the hand that covered his mouth and didn’t let go until he ripped off a chunk of the hand. Lingering holy water burned his tongue, but the blood he consumed gave him the strength to shake off the assailants. The once cocky Hunters were scared now.

(Y/N) continued to fight for control of the gun. Every second, the edge of the cliff got closer. One particularly forceful pull nearly sent them both over the ridge. It gave (Y/N) an idea.

“Let go,” the Hunter snarled as he reared up for another tug.

“If you say so.” She let go of the gun. Not expecting the lack of resistance, the Hunter stumbled toward the cliff’s edge, but not before grabbing the strap of (Y/N)’s bag in a flailing panic.

Together, they careened over the rocky overhang. Engen dove to grab (Y/N)’s outstretched hand, but he was too late. 

The memory cut out. You thought that was the end. Few people could survive a fall of that magnitude. Much to your surprise, things didn’t stop there. Instead, (Y/N) woke up at the bottom of the cliff. She was unscathed, other than some rips in her clothing and a missing shoe. How was that possible? If the mangled Hunter to her right was any indication of what she should like, there was no way she should have survived.

Well, since she survived, finding Engen was the first priority. That would be difficult considering the size of the forest. For now, gathering supplies would be essential. The notebook her parents gave her was filled with advice on survival. Soon enough (Y/N) had a shelter. She flipped to the next page and saw a drawing of a flower labeled “Sleeper’s Azolla.” Underneath, it said, “Pollen from the Sleeper’s Azolla can be used to clear your head. Seal it in a vial and use it once every ten years, but never in your village.” Strange instructions, but if her parents had written them, it was good advice.

While looking for food, (Y/N) came across a small patch of flowers resembling the Sleeper’s Azolla. Using the tools in her bag, she tried to extract pollen from the flowers without smelling them. She was successful in bottling and labeling the powder, but some of it had unknowingly gotten on her hands. One slight rub to her nose was all it took to accidentally ingest the pollen.

“What the hell?” (Y/N) muttered as her consciousness faded. Even though she passed out, the scene didn’t change. This had never happened before.

Hours later, (Y/N) woke up, but something was wrong. She couldn’t remember a thing. The uneasy feeling you’d been suppressing came back stronger. This was what had happened to you: waking up with no knowledge of who you were or where you were.

 Everything went black.

Back at the castle, Vector was doing research. Your quick recovery from the bullet wound was suspicious. Humans don’t heal that swiftly or that well. There wasn’t even a scar where you were pierced. He had to inform Engen about this.

“What is it?” Engen grumbled. From a distance, the vampire looked put together, but Vector knew better. Deep bags had formed underneath his eyes, and he constantly lingered around the medical room. The fearsome Engen was worried.

“It’s about (Y/N).” Now, that caught his attention. “I don’t think she’s a human. Her healing rate is abnormal in every sense of the word. I overlooked it before because I was worried, but I can’t do that anymore.”

Engen gripped the armrest of his chair so hard that it broke. “So then what is she?” he asked lowly. His eyes were glowing a dangerous shade of blue. It made Vector nervous.

“I-I don’t know,” the pumpkin-headed man stuttered out. “That’s the problem. There are plenty of Supernaturals who can pass as humans. (Y/N) would have to be awake for us to check.”

“Then you need t–”

Without warning, Rachel ran in and accosted the doctor. “Vector, I found stuff in (Y/N)’s notebook that may help you.” She glanced at Engen, whom she’d interrupted. “Sorry, but this is important. Look at these pages.” The dryad presented the pages on hellebore and polkweed. 

“Rachel, those are drawings and descriptions of plants.”

“They’re incorrect descriptions, though. It says here that hellebore and polkweed extract is used to relieve stress, but that’s not the case. Hellebore stops our eyes from glowing, and polkweed changes eye color. I talked to Bagna and Ihwa, and they confirmed that (Y/N) was drinking it weekly.”

“That would corroborate my theory that (Y/N) is a Supernatural,” Vector mumbled.

“Wait, there’s more. I also found this,” Rachel exclaimed as she produced a vial full of pollen. “It’s Sleeper’s Azolla. One whiff of this, and you’ll forget everything you’ve ever known. This damn notebook says it’s for ‘clearing your head.’”

Everyone went silent. Who would benefit from creating a notebook with false information, and why did you have it? A wail from the medical room yanked them out of their thoughts. All three Supernaturals ran to check on you, but Engen was the fastest by far.

Inside the room, Engen found you curling into a ball as you sobbed. The screech of the door made you turn toward him. Instead of (Y/E/C), your teary eyes were bright gold. It took all of his self-control to stay standing.

“(Y/N),” he whispered. There was no longer any doubt in his mind. You were the same (Y/N) he fell in love with many years ago. Unable to hold himself back, Engen pulled you into a comforting hug.

You cried into your old lover’s chest. You cried over your dead parents. You cried over the loss of Engen’s parents. You cried over the memories that had been repressed for so long. Every emotion crashed over you in an overwhelming wave.

Engen hated seeing you in so much pain, but what could he do? Even after all these years, he still didn’t know how to comfort you. After half an hour, you passed out. Vector was waiting outside the room when Engen left. The scarred vampire wanted to stay, but for the sake of your health, he allowed Vector to do his job and retreated to his room. 

Three hours later, Vector rushed into Engen’s room. “After I confirmed that she’s an Immortal, (Y/N) went missing.” Panic surged through his veins. In an instant, he’d descended the stairs, where he was stopped by Baekji.

“(Y/N) is at the lake,” the female vampire stated. Nodding in acknowledgment, Engen rushed to the lake, where he found you staring at the stars.

“Why did my parents want me to forget? I’ve lived so many lives not knowing who I really am. Each time, I wandered aimlessly, trying to find a purpose. I hoped that one day I would remember who I was, then I could see them again. But it was false hope.” You turned to Engen with melancholy eyes. “It hurts, Engen. It hurts so damn much.”

The vampire sat next to you. He gazed at the gleaming stars and remembered the silver shackle on his father’s ankle.

“I might not seem like it, but I’ve been mourning you and my parents for almost a century. The pain of losing someone never completely goes away. You just learn how to manage the hurt until it doesn’t bother you. Honestly, I was never able to do that for you. When I saw you again for the first time in that forest, I thought my heart was going to burst. I don’t want you to deal with that kind of pain by yourself. Everyone in the castle is happy to be there for you, especially me.” Engen said the last part a little quieter, but you still heard it. Almost one hundred years, and he was the same man you’d fallen in love with.

“Hey, Engen,” you murmured. The man let out a quiet hum. “I love you.”

Wasting no time, Engen tilted your head upward and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was filled with years of longing and desperation, but most of all, it was filled with pure love.

Engen had spent so long clinging to the ghost of you, but now that you were actually here, he’d spend the rest of his life holding on to you.

Thank you for reading! Hopefully, I'll post again in a timely manner soon!

- Mis

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

Or Tomorrow Night

“I don’t want to be alone tonight” + falling asleep on them

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Word Count: 720

A/N: it’s my first time participating in a BNHArem server collab! This month’s theme is all Bakugou Katsuki and everyone has put out some really wonderful work! It's a Pro Hero AU and I hope you enjoy this lil drabble <3

Masterlist

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” is what he desperately wants to tell you. Perhaps something along the lines of pleading for you to stay with him as the both of you stand at the entrance of the agency where you would normally each go your own way to your respective homes. Anything that could express that he doesn’t want to be separated from you ever, really, but tonight his resistance to that desire has all but vanished. However, as much as he’s made progress, he’s still the emotionally constipated Bakugou you know.

Thankfully, the feeling’s mutual and you can read him better than any telepath. You’re the one who ends up saying those words with your head hung as your battered hand pathetically latches onto the sleeve of his sweater. You thought you’d be too tired to feel ashamed and embarrassed to be a pro hero looking like a scared child.

You’re fully prepared for him to scoff at the sight and stubbornly refuse in spite of himself, but instead he lets out a grunt that’s somehow gentle, takes your hand in his larger one, and begins to lead the way to his apartment.

* * *

You’re sitting next to each other on the couch of his surprisingly really well decorated living room with the television playing a random sitcom that you’ve long tuned out. Neither of you has uttered a word since the agency and you’re okay with that. But despite being right next to him you still feel alone.

It’s a strange limbo to be stuck in; exhausted and completely drained, yet unable to fall asleep. You don’t know what you were expecting as you hadn’t thought past him even staying with you after the day you’ve both had. But you were hoping to at the very least be able to get some rest before having to head out to work in the morning and doing it all over again. Was it foolish of you to think that you might feel less lonely if he took pity on you and—

Your downward spiral is interrupted by Bakugou’s strong arm pulling you to his side. Eyes widening ever so slightly, you glance up to meet vermillion eyes framed by dark circles to match your own. As he sinks the both of you further into the couch, you realize how truly tense and absolutely beat up you are from your day.

Calloused fingertips push stray hairs away from your face and relief begins to outweigh the surprise you feel at his tender actions. Apparently that relief finds company with an overwhelming wave of emotions that have gone under months of repression. “I-I’m s-sorr— I don’t want to be alone—”

“You’re not going to be. I’m not leaving you tonight.” His hoarse voice is a half whisper as he wipes away ghost tears you wish would just fall. Bakugou figures his pride has already been checked at the door and now just isn’t the time to battle against his desire to convey to you that he never wants to leave your side. But he’s still him, so it’s with lightly flushed cheeks that he averts his eyes and says, “Y-You don’t have to be alone tomorrow night either.”

You use the last of your energy to offer a smile of affirmation before letting yourself collapse into him. The steady sound of his beating heart helps you exit the limbo as you find yourself in a more peaceful place. The irony of a hero finally being able to feel safe doesn’t escape you, but neither does the warmth of the person who allows you to feel it. Careful hands caress your face and hair in soothing movements as the motion of Bakugou’s rhythmic breathing provides you with more comfort than a mother rocking her child to sleep.

“Thank you, Katsuki,” you breathe out as you finally surrender yourself to slumber.

Bakugou finds solace in the fact that you're blind to the heat that finds its way to the tips of his ears at the sound of your voice saying his given name. He leans down to press his lips to the crown of your head, a show of affection which he will swear up and down never happened when the two of you find yourselves in the same situation the next day.

[blrush]

Rec List Request

A personalised list for @jammy-boy 🥰 could be of interest to others, so enjoy!

Basic requirements: - just finished and loved SOTUS - is Arthur/Merlin trash - loves a twist or reversal of classic “power-dynamic” - loves angst with happy ending ______________________________

Theory of Love

Film student Third (Gun) has been secretly in love with his best friend Khai (Off) for three years, but Khai is straight, a massive player, and a total arsehole if we’re being honest. This starts painful, but then they start playing around with tropes and expectations and then it changes POV which just HITS so hard and completely changes your whole perception. You know the movie Flipped? It references that, and then does the flip - so good.

Knowing the level of pining, pain and angst that you love (plus your background in film studies) I feel like this is required viewing. Get out the tissues. But also, it’s still really funny and cute/dumb (cause gmmtv) and the production was excellent. Also, Off/Gun are PEAK natural chemistry and Gun is such an incredible actor that watching him cry or yell at someone is still preferable to other actors being happy.

Watch on YouTube HERE

He’s Coming To Me

Precious baby boi Singto plays Med, a ghost, who is is stuck in limbo for 20 years - until he meets a boy who can see him, Thun (my baby boi Ohm) who promises to help him figure out his unfinished business and cross over. And then they were roommates! And then they start falling in love and it’s ANGSTY because they know Med will have to leave one day. Ouch, my heart.

You will enjoy the mixture of domestic fluff and tragic angst in this. But don’t worry it has a happy ending (kind of, I think, from memory haha). Also, you will enjoy the fact that they can’t touch (cause, ghost) which is *chefs kiss* except for moments of heightened emotions when Thun’s powers become strong enough that he can touch Med (FUCK YES, THIS TROPE IS EVERYTHING)

After much whining from fans, they put it up on Youtube haha so watch HERE. 

Until We Meet Again

ANNGST. RE.IN.CAR.NA.TION. ANGST. What else do you need to know?!?! Reincarnated soulmates trope?!!? HELLO!?!?  It’s so beautiful. I’m still not over it. And yes it has a happy ending, it starts super sad, then ends up super fluffy and the romantic fluffy moments oh god it’s so romantic. I know you love like soft domestic food sharing etc - this show is ALL about the cooking.

The casting, the characterisation, the acting, the story, the music, even the friendship group and the side-couple, it’s perfection *chefs kiss* PERFECTION

Watch on youtube HERE

A Tale of A Thousand Stars

After the lovely volunteer teacher Torfun dies (RIP poor torfun) in a tragic accident, her heart is transplanted into selfish pretty rich boy Tian (played by the beautiful Mix). After learning of her selfless character, he feels guilt and shame for living (the angst is very real) and makes it his mission to complete her life’s wishes and follow in her footsteps. 

As the new village volunteer teacher, he then falls in love with the very handsome and very shirtless chief Phupha (Earth), who lives to protect the trees, we stan an environmental man. Angst, fluff, complications, and many miscommunications ensue. I was tearing my hair out by the end of this show. Yes, it has a happy ending (eventually). Earth x Mix was a pairing we did not know we even wanted or needed until this show happened and now I cry every time I see a picture of them together. Every single time Phupha looks at Tian in this show I literally tear up. HE LOVES HIM SO MUUUUUCHHH *crying again*

Watch on youtube HERE

I Told Sunset About You

Childhood best-friends, turned enemies (for stupid kid reasons), to lovers. This is ANGSTY but so fucking beautiful it’s ridiculous. I wouldn’t even class this as “BL” because it doesn’t have any of the standard tropes, and there’s no silly sound-effects or innuendo jokes. This is like genuine lgbt+ indie-film realness. You can honestly just watch it for the cinematography and the music. The AESTHETIC of this show is what truly makes it special. The symbolism, the colours, this show said CINEMA. And the sexual tension is absolutely WILD. You will live for the angst (with a happy ending). And no, do not bother watching season 2, it’s perfect as a stand-alone mini-series. (I’m still upset).

Watch HERE 

and now for some stand-out non-Thai series...

Where Your Eyes Linger

Korea has gotten on the BL train, and has now made a whole bunch of viki mini-series that are all cute but this one is right up your alley. This is VERY merthur. It’s literally servant/master, bodyguard/prince trope. But, I thought the characterisation was nicely thought out and wasn’t what I was expecting. The tension is palpable, the angst is juicy, and the soft kdrama vibes are cheesy and wonderful. Angst with a happy ending (of course).

Watch on VIKI

HIStory 3: Trapped

So the Taiwanese HIStory series has been around forever, and I love the whole series (History 2: Crossing The Line is my all time fav). But for youuuu, I think the most appropriate is Trapped. Police detective single-mindedly obsessed with a gang leader? Yes please. But whatever power-dynamic expectations you would have of a police/criminal couple are twisted and warped immediately! This series is so endearing, it’s mostly comedy/action, and whilst it has plenty of angst, mostly it’s just CUTE as fuck. Also the side couple are adorable too!

The whole History series is on Viki now yay!

The Untamed

Look, I KNOW 50 episodes of plot-heavy chinese historical fantasy is a lot. But there’s a reason this show was soooo popular. It only took me like 3 attempts and a whole ass “guide” pdf to figure out what the fuck was happening in the first ep cause its non-linear. But, if you are in the right mood (ie; sick, or in lockdown) and need something to get completely LOST in for like a week, then watch this haha. I know you couldn’t make it through Guardian, but maybe this one will hit the spot.

This has all the angsty character tropes you live for. And cause it’s censored, there’s no actual romance, so instead it’s just the best kind of UST, character driven, emotional soulmate angst. To summarise: Wei Wuxian is; adopted, a trouble-maker, impetuous, head-strong, fun-loving, has a martyr complex and wants to save everyone. Meanwhile, Lan Zhan is; lawful good to a fault, stoic, shy, and has a martyr complex about saving Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian ONLY. Now throw them into the middle of supernatural / political turmoil and see what happens. Well I’ll tell you what happens, Wei Wuxian becomes the “villain”, gets killed, and Lan Zhan spends 16 years looking for him. FUCKING KILL ME OKAY. (No, that’s not a spoiler it happens in the first episode haha)

Do NOT watch on Netflix the subs are trash. Watch on Youtube or Viki

 ~ ~ ~

This list may seem long but I was VERY reserved in my selection okay you have no idea how tiny this tip of the iceberg is 😂

Also, knowing your love of no-touching, tension, and angst. I would also briefly draw your attention so School 2013 in my bromance list which is the single most angsty show about friendship ever made.

Enjoy!

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

The Revived - Chapter 22: Preparations

This is chapter 22 of the Dream SMP multichapter fic @dramaticsnakes​ and I wrote together! I hope you’ll enjoy!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Ghostbur

Word count: 3,093

Cw: pain, brief loneliness, implied derealization

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

Wilbur was somewhat thankful that the early morning interaction had been disheveled enough, for Wilbur not to have been asked to leave. It was kind of funny really, that even though Wilbur had been caught trespassing where he shouldn’t, the young boy had been far too distracted to kick him out. Far too confused and awkward. It seemed to be a general trend whenever Ranboo was talking to him.

Though perhaps Wilbur couldn’t act as if he was above that awkwardness, as he hadn’t even gotten around to asking exactly what kind of party it was. He assumed however, for natural reasons, that if it was a party for a toddler, presents for said toddler would be involved. Regardless, Wilbur didn’t think giving a present to a child would be looked down upon in any case. If anything, it might repair what he previously damaged. Even if it was an infinitesimal amount, it could still help.

“Oh oh oh! What should we get him?” Ghostbur asked excitedly, “What does he like? Red, gold, nether things, books…” He chuckled as he jokingly added, “Us! We could wrap ourselves in a present.”

Wilbur chuckled despite himself. “We could,” he said with a smile, feeling a bit of exhaustion dragging at him, but finding it easier and easier to ignore. “Let’s see if there’s anything we can use in these chests.”

Wilbur rummaged through them for a while, only managing to find four gold ingots that could perhaps interest the child. He briskly crafted them into a pair of gold boots that he figured would suit Michael’s size. He narrated the action to Ghostbur as he did it.

“They’re like rubber boots!” Ghostbur had commented excitedly.

“Mhm.”

“Oh, I have an idea!” 

“Shoot,” a smile lingered in his voice as he grabbed a dark gray satchel nearby. It was light-weight and durable. Perfect for a gift or two. He carefully put the golden boots inside it as Ghostbur rambled on cheerfully.

“So, hear me out. I’ve got the best idea ever in the whole universe. We should make him a card! He can hold and look at it, and you can be nice in it too!”

Wilbur walked downstairs, grabbing some sugar cane from the farm as he quickly pressed it into paper. A quill sat nearby as he picked it up. “Alright, so a simple message…” Wilbur’s voice trailed off.

“Okay, how about, ‘Oh, Michael, you are the most amazing person to exist and I hope you continue existing forever.’”  

Wilbur looked into the air as if he was on The Office. “Or we could go with something more general.”

“I gotcha! We can do ‘You are the most amazing person to exist and you are so cool that I hope you continue existing forever.’”

“First of all, I thought I said more general, not less.”

“I did make it more general! I removed Michael’s name from it.”

Wilbur facepalmed gently so it wouldn’t hurt Ghostbur. “I meant for it to be less… emotional? I don’t think that’s the right word, but I want the card to be neutral.”

Ghostbur hummed in agreement. “Okay. We can say ‘I feel neutral about your existence, but I do agree that you chose to exist at this current time, and by the way, you are also very cool.’”

Wilbur sighed, “I’ll take over the writing.” He narrated the words on the paper, “Dear Michael, The world will be at your feet someday! But for now, it's just these gold boots.” A smile slipped on his face at the words replaying in his mind in company with Ghostbur’s noises of approval.

“Oh can we do a drawing at the bottom? Michael likes drawings.”

Wilbur nodded, “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

Ghostbur excitedly squealed, “Can we- oh my, I have so many good ideas.”

Wilbur chuckled, pleased to hear the ghost being his typical self again. “I can start with drawing Michael?”

Ghostbur clapped, “Yeah! And- and holding hands with him?”

“Sure, just give me one second.” He might have been a leader of a nation and a general for many soldiers, but Wilbur certainly was not an artist. He tried genuinely drawing a face, only for him to scratch it out and get a new paper out and transfer his original message onto it. Instead, he imitated Michael’s drawing style- stick figures. 

He drew playful lines across the bottom of the paper. He eventually formed a small stick person with little pig ears, a big smile, and black boots. He would have colored them, but he didn’t want to risk Michael eating the paper as he did just days ago. 

Next to Michael, he drew a slightly bigger person. Curly hair at the top and a rough trenchcoat around the body. He hesitantly finished the picture with a small smile on his own face. It felt a bit silly to draw like that. To be making a card for a child after everything, drawing handholding and smiles. Yet Ghostbur’s excitement was strangely infectious. It was sort of relieving in a sense, even if Wilbur wasn’t the type to fall for such bright positivity.

“Alright, the drawings are finished.” 

He was about to fold the paper into his pocket when Ghostbur called out, “Wait, did you put any stars on there?”

“No?”

“What kind of drawing is it if there’s no stars?!”

Wilbur sighed quietly as he quickly scribbled some stars in the corners. “Alright, I’m putting it away now-”

“Wait! Did you sign it?”

Wilbur furrowed his brow, “I’m giving it to him. He knows it’s from me.”

Ghostbur pleaded, “But cards always look better if they’re signed. Just a quick, ‘Love, Wilbur and Ghostbur’ makes the card a thousand times better! No- a billion!”

Wilbur sighed as he remained frozen in place before the words settled in. His mind easily processed the ridiculous request, but not the fact that Ghostbur wanted to be signed on the card too. Wilbur should have probably assumed it, but the idea didn’t fully settle with him. “Alright.” The words were quiet as he quickly wrote down, ‘Sincerely, Uncle Wilbur’.

"Is there anything else I need to add?"

"Hmm, I don't think so."

Wilbur gently placed the card in the satchel as he quickly ran up to see the clock once more, but he slightly frowned to see the hour hand still lingering between the four and five. He brushed it off though. He could easily occupy himself anyway. His eyes glazed over the books on the table before he internally groaned at the thought of hitting the books once again. 

He walked over to the table, placing the satchel onto it, before grabbing one of the books before Ghostbur spoke, "Oh, we're reading again?" His voice sounded slightly dismayed.

Wilbur shook his head, "Nah, I'm just putting away some books." Ghostbur made a pleased sound  as Wilbur quietly pushed the leather-bound book back into its spot. 

He sighed quietly at the odd silence of the room. He focused on the ticking of the clock. It

was a nice sound to focus on. It was a constant reminder he was still alive. Even if he wasn't

the happiest in his position, he was alive. 

An alive man that was going to attend a toddler's party with a homemade card that had poorly drawn stickmen inside.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, as he finished putting some of the books away. Most of them held no useful information anyhow, and perhaps leaving them out would appear suspicious, should Tubbo return.

He wondered for a brief moment if Ranboo intended on telling Tubbo about Wilbur’s presence in the bunker. He imagined Tubbo insisting on having a talk as soon as Wilbur arrived. Prime, Wilbur despised talks. He just hoped the awkwardness of the interaction, and Ranboo’s apparent secrecy, was enough for Ranboo to leave it out.

Wilbur walked downstairs, finding that his leg had almost healed during his days in the bunker. He was going to harvest some watermelon, simply to pass the time. As he was about to do so, his eyes fell upon something dusty, peeking out of a chest he hadn’t bothered looking much at before. He knew what it was. He closed his eyes momentarily, to get a hold of his thoughts, before walking to the chest, and taking out a dusty mirror. 

He rubbed the shiny end of it with his sleeve. The mirror was still vaguely cloudy, but it still showed him nonetheless. Well- not exactly him, but rather his body. The man who stared back was nearly unrecognizable with gray bruises scattered along his face that easily complemented the bags under his eyes.

Complement was a rather strong word as all of his features seemed off-putting to him. His greasy hair hung close to his pale-ish skin. He squished his face with one of his hands, truly making sure that his reflection was his own. Of course, the mirror version moved along with him, but he strangely wished it didn’t. 

His mind drifted back to his encounter with Ranboo. Had they really intended on inviting Wilbur to the party in the first place? Or had that been done out of pity?

The only good thing about his reflection was that he couldn’t see the burns along his chin anymore. He touched it gently, finding the skin to be a little softer than before. 

He automatically put the mirror down as he headed towards the shower that laid in the bunker. He stopped two steps away as Ghostbur chimed in, “What time is it over there?”

“Oh… I don’t know.” He was pulled out of his thoughts quite easily as he stayed frozen in place.

Confusion laced Ghostbur’s voice, “You can’t check?”

Wilbur shut his eyes tightly for a moment before taking a sharp breath, “I could, but I have to ask you something.”

Wilbur despised the cheeriness in Ghostbur’s response. “Ask away!”

Images of Wilbur’s face flashed through his own mind as he hesitantly asked, “Alright, Ghostie, there’s not an easy way to bring this up.” Ghostbur hummed in acknowledgement, not wanting to interrupt Wilbur. Despite Wilbur not wanting to continue on, he forced the words out of him, “So- do you know what a shower is?”

“Yeah! It’s one of those plants on the ground with pretty petals.”

A dry chuckle left Wilbur, “No, that’s a flower.”

“Oh. Is it what Tubbo uses in baking?”

Wilbur sighed this time, “No, that’s wheat flour.” As Ghostbur was about to give another guess, Wilbur cut him off, “I’ll just tell you.”

Ghostbur sounded slightly dismayed at his refused answers, “Alright.”

“Alright. Alright,” the words were quiet in his mind as he forced himself back on track. “A shower is something people do to get clean. They use soap and… water to do this.”

“Aww, I was about to guess that too.”

“Right.” It was now or never. “I think I need to take a shower.”

“Okay!”

Wilbur furrowed his brow, “You’re… okay with me taking a shower? You know it’s going to require water, right?”

Ghostbur’s breath hitched at the realization. “Ah. I thought you meant soap or water.”

Wilbur exhaled, the tension flowing through his body. “Yeah.”

“So why do you need to take one? I know people in general do it, but you can explain to him that water hurts me.”

Wilbur shook his head, “He can’t know about you.”

Child-like curiosity filled Ghostbur’s voice, but it was slightly dimmer than what it should have been, “Why?”

Wilbur pursed his lips. It was too risky to describe in words. With how little trust Tubbo had in Wilbur, it would most likely foil their plans of Ghostbur’s escape. The suspicion and worry in Tubbo’s eyes wouldn’t temporarily go away at a joke. There wouldn’t be a moment alone with his thoughts as everyone whispered about the mind of his. They wouldn’t say anything bad either, just harsh truths that hurt more than he’d like to imagine. The truths he thought he could escape by finishing his unfinished symphony. 

Wilbur’s failed nation transitioned to a mind that couldn’t go a day without the desperate need to talk to someone again. The need for someone to reassure him he was alive and he wasn’t imagining something in the train station again. He was quite imaginative in there. He made fantasy worlds with so many new people, but at the end of the day, he imagined Tommy by his side laughing or cooking breakfast with Tubbo again. 

On the rougher days, he would imagine Fundy there. Sometimes he talked about his problems to him, only to cry harder when he remembered his son wasn’t actually there. Or he would imagine Niki running a hand through his hair, telling him all the things he needed. He’d been without that real warm touch for thirteen years that holding himself made a shaky sob leave. It had been pathetic of him to imagine such things, but the silence got to you after a few years, after he had spent a long time growing bitter. No one could see him anyway, so maybe it hadn’t counted at all, as he thought about those potential blissful moments.

The moments he never got. Perhaps he was still at the train station after all, the slight buzz of the lights being the only noise he could hear. No one laughed with him when he came back. The most he got was a dry chuckle that he happened to witness. There was no one to hold or listen to him. Not a single person smiled at his return. He was alone in the train station he thought he escaped days ago.

Tears blurred his vision as he wrapped his arms around himself. He pushed his body against a wall as he slid down it. The gray wall that accompanied the gray floors and flickering fluorescent lights. The tunnel that didn’t stop seemed to stop his mind. It blocked him in every direction that led to happiness before his murmuring thoughts entered.

It took a moment to realize it wasn’t his thoughts, but rather an echoy version of them. “Wilbur? Is everything okay?”

Wilbur swallowed back a cry. “Yeah,” his voice shook for a moment as he tried to breathe normally. “Sorry I spaced out for a second.” There wasn’t a train station. He wasn’t back there. He was in the bunker. “What were you saying?”

Ghostbur quietly answered, “Nothing. Oh- earlier you said you wanted to take a shower?”

The words brought Wilbur back to a more tangible reality. “Right…” he said with a nod, pushing himself up from the ground, his posture wavering slightly. He swallowed something in his throat. “Are you… Are you okay with that?” he quickly added, “I’ll make it as brisk as I can I promise! It’ll mostly be to wash my hair, and to look and smell just a little more presentable.”

Ghostbur had very little reason to trust him. Wilbur was incredibly aware of that at this point, his promises losing all meaning at his forgetfulness, or plain dishonesty. “Of course. Just- Just don’t take too long please.”

“I won’t,” Wilbur said. “I promise,” he repeated, trying to add as much weight to the words as he could. Engrave them, so his mind wouldn’t drift away from it. To keep his mind from drifting away in general.

Gently he put his clothes aside, placing the familiar old trenchcoat and blouse in a little pile. He had associated the outfit with himself for so long, that looking at it apart from him, was almost surreal. Slowly, he walked into the shower. He put the temperature to be as cold as he could, unsure if there would even be hot water in a bunker like this. It would serve as a good reminder that he should make this quick. “I am going to turn it on now. It’ll… It’ll probably reach my entire body.” 

“Okay…” Ghostbur said. Wilbur caught himself missing the excitement from when they were making the card together. Frivolous. 

He placed his hand on the shower knob and turned it, careful not to let his hand too much under the water. It proved to be a rather needless endeavor though, as his face and body were immediately drenched in cold water. He immediately shivered from the feeling as he felt his movements become jittery and robotic. He heard hurried breaths from his mind, and whimpers of pain, though it was surprisingly silent this time around.

Wilbur let his hand through his hair, massaging his scalp. He grasped some soap next to the shower, and mixed some into his hair and on his body, quickly using the water to wash it off. His heart was beating fast, as he rushed to turn the knob once more, some soap still lingering on a few strands of hair. He bolted to the other side of the room, to dry all the remaining water off with a towel, almost as if the uncomfortably cold water was burning him too. The second he could no longer find a drop he let out a few breaths. “There we go. Done.”

Ghostbur took a moment before he replied, his own breathing calming down as well. “Okay… Okay, that’s good! T-thank you.”

Wilbur cringed slightly at the gratitude, not entirely certain what he was being thanked for. “Of course,” he said quietly, his breathing quite obvious and echo-y in the empty room. He suddenly realized that he missed the ticking of the clock. He shook his head, and put on his clothes again, unsure if the warmth they brought was comfort or something that settled heavier in his chest. He didn’t have time to dwell on it.

He walked out of the room, grabbing the satchel with Michael’s present in it. He glanced at the clock once more, finding that it was only around 5:30am. He stood in the middle of the bunker for a good minute, closing his eyes tightly, and holding on to the sound of the clock. When he opened his eyes once more, they settled on the potions he brewed over the past few days. There weren’t many, but they comforted him nonetheless. He absent-mindedly packed three strength potions into the satchel, perhaps planning on giving some to Tubbo and Ranboo as a gift. 

Then, with determined steps he started walking towards the exit. It felt as if a weight was slightly lifted as he walked out the bunker, though he had grown so used to the weight that he wasn’t sure if that was comforting to him or not. Once he found himself in Pogtopia, he decided to focus on the ground beneath his feet, rather than the buttons lining the walls.

When the sun reached Wilbur’s face, the rays seemed to make his vision less blurry in a sense. The darkness that was so welcoming before, and still called to him, was shoved away in favor of the sunrise.

He remembered right then, when he had declared the first sunrise he saw when he returned, his sunrise. A reminder of life, and opportunity. He stared at the bright sky for a little while. Gently, he placed the satchel on the ground, the glass bottles quietly clinging against each other, and sat down in the grass next to it. He breathed the air into his lungs, as his shoulders untensed. He watched the sunrise intently, as he waited for the party to approach.

[sunflowershouto]

when their partner gets injured in battle - todoroki, midoriya bakugou

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: Hi everyone! Leo here with the first post of the new blog! Yayyyy! This one wasn’t a request, but I wanted to do something tonight for my official opening! Enjoy!

𝐭 𝐨 𝐝 𝐨 𝐫 𝐨 𝐤 𝐢

❅ Shoto is the king of masking his emotions, so if you’re hurt in battle, an onlooker might not be able to tell that he’s all that concerned.

❅ On the inside, he’s in a state of panic, praying that he won’t have to add losing the one he loves to his list of regrets and failures.

❅ Despite that worry, he keeps it cool on the outside. Whatever villain injured you, he disposes of them as quickly and efficiently as he possibly can, although there’s probably a lot of anger in his fighting style. He becomes SUPER aggressive and vicious, but none of it shows on his face until he gets super into it, then the rage really starts to show.

❅ He’s getting seriously angry, going super overboard. The flames are out, and he’s clearly not trying all that hard not to kill whoever it is that hurt you. Someone probably tells him to chill out and this boy gives no fucks.

❅ Shoto is that combination of emotional repression and extreme passion where once he’s been set off, and the calm and stoic facade wears off, reeling him back in is very difficult. Getting him to back off and let the authorities take over takes some convincing on the part of your fellow heroes and/or classmates.

❅ If it’s a matter of urgency, where you need immediate treatment, he fights like his life depends on it. He doesn’t care what happens, if he overexerts himself, if he himself is injured in the process. None of it matters until he knows that you are safe. He’s still perfectly efficient, only now about a hundred times more reckless.

❅ Once you’re at a hospital or in the infirmary, he doesn’t leave, or if he does, he comes back as soon as he’s bathed and eaten. He waits patiently outside your hospital room, his face totally blank, aside from clear distress in his eyes.

❅ Taps his foot lightly every now and then, but is actually eerily still.

❅ Until a nurse walks out of the room, and he stands straight up as soon as he sees her, and just says “Well?” 

❅ He’s praying that you’ve made it, and is beyond relieved to hear that you’ll recover, but doesn’t let himself decompress until he’s sitting at your bedside, where his shoulders slump and he takes your hand and tells you that he was worried.

❅ He’s had so much shame and regret in his life. He had already had to handle losing his mother and being an abomination to her, as well as having to deal with his dad and forging his own legacy. The death of someone so precious to him, someone he cherishes so deeply. . . It would have been absolutely crushing.

❅ Shoto isn’t the type to be quick to make deep attachments, and this incident only serves to remind him just how precious you are, how quickly things can change.

❅ The smile he has on his face when you open your eyes and look at him, and whisper his name is the purest smile he’s had since he was a kid.

𝐦 𝐢 𝐝 𝐨 𝐫 𝐢 𝐲 𝐚

✰ Midoriya actually doesn’t keep super close watch over you during battles.

✰ He’s incredibly focused on strategy, and unless you’re teaming up and doing moves together, he tends to focus more on beating the villain in front of him. He has absolute faith in you as a hero, and believes you can do whatever you put your mind to.

✰ He doesn’t notice you need help until it’s a moment too late, and he’s cursing himself for not being attentive enough, for not having your back.

✰ The second that he realizes you’re badly hurt, all bets are off. No egg in the microwave, no constraining himself to only use his pinky finger. He rushes over and jumps straight into the line of fire without a second thought.

✰ It’s not even vengeful, although there’s a tiny bit of that there. Mostly, he’s panicked and needs them out of the way so that he can help you as soon as possible.

✰ He attacks whoever hurt you at just barely enough power to keep from killing them, but they’re definitely not getting up any time soon.

✰ Izuku is blaming the hell out of himself. He should have been there, he should have been a better partner, a better hero.

✰ He accompanies you to the hospital for as long as he can, the doctors practically have to restrain him from entering the surgical unit with you. 

✰ He is absolutely fraught. He’s pacing, tearing his hair out, his eyes are watering, all because he just didn’t pay attention.

✰ He’s praying, harder than he ever has in his entire life. Harder than he prayed to hear back from the entrance exam. He can’t bring himself to sit down for longer than a couple of seconds before he’s pacing again.

✰ When he hears that you’re going to make it, he collapses down into a chair and holds his head in his hands, still crying and an absolute mess, but now he’s relieved.

✰ He’s at your side the second you’re awake, apologizing profusely and swearing that he’ll never let anything like that happen again.

𝐛 𝐚 𝐤 𝐮 𝐠 𝐨 𝐮

✧ Katsuki blames himself as soon as he sees it happen, but he doesn’t tell anyone that. He’s the best in the business, the future number one hero; how could he have let something like this happen?

✧ He’s worried out of his mind, and pissed as hell. Absolutely furious. He’s screaming profanities at the villain that hurt you, and blasting their face to hell in the process. He’s sweating and out of breath by the time he’s done, and the others practically have to drag him off of the guy.

✧ He insists that he’s fine every time anyone asks, but no one misses the way that his eyes are glued to the ambulance as it speeds down the street and towards the hospital.

✧ He’s completely silent on the way over, staring dead ahead with an almost-scowl on his face. His jaw is clenched the whole time, his hands curled into fists and his shoulders tense. He can’t stop replaying it in his head, the image of that bastard standing over you, your blood dripping from his hands.

✧ He doesn’t realize or remember, but he screamed the second that he saw it, out of complete, white-hot rage.

✧ ‘You idiot,’ he thinks, but he doesn’t know if he’s talking to you or to himself. 

✧ Once he’s at the hospital, waiting to hear whether you’ll live or die, he won’t say a word. Even when Midoriya approaches, an occasion he’d usually take to curse the other boy out, he is dead silent. However, he still shoots anyone who tries to speak to him an absolutely deadly glare.

✧ On the outside he’s furious, but internally he’s being totally consumed by guilt and regret. If he had just been less fucking incompetent, if he had just lived up to all of his talk, then the two of you would be home by now.

✧ You’d be cracking some shitty annoying joke, and he’d tell you to shut up, and you’d tell it again, and he would throw something at you, and everything would be fine.

✧ Instead he’s here, with purple knuckles and blood on his face, stuck in limbo while he waits.

✧ The nurse walks out of the room, and his eyes are on her, staring in what he doesn’t realize is a glare as she reports the news. His nails dig so hard into his palms that they bleed, and his jaw clenches as he waits for her to just spit it out.

✧ Once she reports that you will recover, he stands and walks out and just paces the building outside, processing the fact that you’re going to be okay.

✧ He doesn’t visit right away, but when he does, he calls you an idiot, tells you that you should never, ever be that reckless and stupid again. He also promises that when he’s number one, nothing like this will ever happen again. 

[novantinuum]

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: General Audiences

Words: 1600~

Summary: Lapis genuinely doesn’t know how many hours (Days? Months? Years?) have passed when light finally graces her eyes once again.

Ah, my first Lapis POV fic! This one has been in my drafts for ages- at least a year and a half. Feels nice to finally have it done.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

________

Finally Free

It’s funny, in a way.

She spent thousands of years trapped inside herself, unable to form... hating the Crystal Gems... fearing the endless destructive conquest of the Diamonds... and yet in the end, the first time she falls in a battle she fought willingly she does so fighting alongside those star-bearing rebels, face-to-face with the very Diamond who abandoned her to Earth to be forgotten to begin with.

And now, she’s gone. Trapped inside herself again. It’s equal parts disorienting as it is concerning. After all, Lapis Lazuli cannot see the world beyond. She has no way of knowing if the Crystal Gems lost or won. No way of knowing if she’ll be shattered at any moment. It’s nerve-racking— suffocating! She wants out. She wants to know.

But no matter what she tries, she can’t manage to pull herself out of this formless limbo on demand. She always imagined that the next time she got struck down she’d reform in an instant... pop right back up like the next day’s dawn, ready to slice the waves and swing her fists like she’s never been shaken to her knees in the first place. Apparently not.

Despite her dearest wishes, it would seem the universe has a higher agenda.

_

Lapis genuinely doesn’t know how many hours (Days? Months? Years?) have passed when light finally graces her eyes once again.

Fittingly, it’s the ocean who greets her first as she hovers midair in the midst of reformation, arms outstretched and coursing with newfound strength as her form fully solidifies. She gently falls to her knees on the sand. With the sun’s energizing warmth kissing the gemstone on her back, she spreads her fingers through the fine granules, her relief at being free from unconsciousness’ cruel prison so palpable and overwhelming that for a moment she’s irrationally terrified she’ll poof again from the intensity of this fierce emotion alone. Her hard-light body remains solid, however. After all, she’s a stubborn Gem. There’s no way she’ll let herself poof as easily as she did this time around ever again.

Coaxing herself to her feet, she makes a clear point of judiciously surveying her surroundings. Her first big clue as to the outcome of the battle is the fact that the Diamond ships still lay broken and motionless in the shallows at the edge of the peninsula. (Not to mention the fact that the Earth is still... well, here.) Directly behind her, she finds a makeshift worktable formed out of a thick board placed over twin stacks of wood, with plenty of human tools scattered across its surface. No one appears to be hanging around Steven’s house right now, but there’s a sizable tarp thrown over the half that Blue’s ship smashed during the battle. That’s good, that insinuates that someone’s alive to begin repairs. Although, wait a minute... Her brow sharply creases as she filters back through recent memory. Wasn’t that ship still leaning against the side of the cliff when she poofed? How’d it get into the water? And how did the arm ship’s thumb get reattached?

Before she can fret about these mysteries further and and risk losing herself to a burst of paranoid panic, she hears her name called from the distance. Attentively, she whirls around, seeking its source.

It’s Peridot, sprinting right towards her across the fine sand as if the rest of this growing, changing world has somehow hurtled to an abrupt stop. But not her. Goodness, never her. She’s always in motion, always manages to be so alive.

And she... she’s changed her outfit. There’s stars everywhere, on her leggings at her knees, in the silhouette formed by the shape of her visor and hair, and plastered proudly right across her chest. Lapis can’t help but give a fond smirk at the sight. It suits her. Now she can finally represent like a true Crystal Gem.

“Lapis!” she exclaims as she crosses the final distance, lands herself face-to-face once more. “You’re finally back!”

For a minuscule moment the green eyes behind that tinted visor glitter with deep affection and relief, and her arms stretch outward as if she intends to envelop her in a tight embrace and never let go, but as oft is the case, the turbulent waves of emotion coursing through this Gem are riddled with more complexity than initial appearances let on. And if there’s one thing Lapis fails to excel at, it’s understanding how to best respond to the nuances of complex emotions. She’s never been much of a people person, even before her capture.

Eventually, the joyful familiarity within Peridot’s expression dims, and— inhaling deep— she steeples her fingers together as if she were an agate merely addressing a subordinate. The tone of her voice becomes bitingly procedural, detached.

(Try as she may, Lapis can’t block the ephemeral ache this new reality elicits at her core as the conversation continues. She clutches at her wrist, shamefully dropping her gaze to the sand.)

“Anyways,” the former Kindergarten technician says evenly, gesturing at the mess littering the beach behind them, “we have a lot of work to do. No time to waste!”

Her brow creases. “But... didn’t we win?”

“We did, yes,” she nods in confirmation. “Bismuth can explain in more depth, but she’s currently on one of the diamond ships. We’re fixing them so we can fly out as backup.”

“Backup? Backup for what?”

Peridot’s cool and collected guise crumples at this query, her hands curling into small fists as she blinks away any lingering evidence of her distress.

“Steven’s in trouble,” she reveals. “We just received a distress message from him yesterday. I’m told he returned to Homeworld with the Diamonds to discuss healing all the corrupted Gems, but...”

“Something went wrong,” she guesses, the shadow of her bangs darkening over her eyes. “They turned on him.”

“Well... we don’t really know what happened. Which is why time is of the essence!” she says with a sudden surge of positive energy, swiftly jabbing her pointer finger in the air. “Follow me, and I’ll show you where we’re working.”

Her old roommate prepares to jog away, towards the other side of the beach where the ships lay in temporary rot and ruin. Time stills in Lapis’ mind, if but for a brief moment, as she watches the sunlight glint at the upper edge of her visor, the refraction producing almost kaleidoscopic patterns in the sand. The choppy rhythm of the ocean, its undulating melody as it washes in and away from shore, uninterrupted... it almost sounds sad. She hums a few bars of a song she wrote back in her solitude, on the moon. And then she realizes, eyes widening... that she never really left that place, did she? In a way, even though she returned to Earth, it’s like she’s still stuck watching everyone from that observation sphere, still barring herself from nurturing her relationships with others out of fear.

Lapis throws her glance out towards the endless horizon, standing tall and erect as the loose pants of her new form billow against her legs in the light breeze. The long-held tension at her core releases. She’s done closing herself off from people. She’s done with feeling trapped and alone. She wants to mend her relationships, not let them erode away.

Which means... she has to at least try to make things right with Peridot. Somehow.

The tide’s pace resumes to its full intensity. At that precise moment, her friend turns on her heels, swiftly preparing to return to their work site.

“Peridot,” she says, quickly stepping forward to catch her shoulder before she can walk off, before she journeys to some distant shore where she can’t follow.

The shorter Gem freezes in place upon the utterance of her name. She doesn’t respond in words initially, lips tightly pursed. Waiting. Hoping.

(Stars, just say it!)

“I... I shouldn’t have run away,” Lapis blurts out, her form growing lighter the second that vocalization crosses the threshold from her guilt-filled subconscious to shining reality. “That was... a huge mistake. And I really wish I could make it up to you, but...” Her scattered focus shifts as she searches for something— anything— to say in further acknowledgement of her regret, eventually landing upon the shattered remnants of wood still strewn across the beach. She sighs sadly, giving her respects. “I’m pretty sure we can both agree that the barn’s a goner.”

Under her hold, Peridot’s once-tense shoulder relaxes. She makes no move to face her, however, still drinking in the no-doubt humbling sight of this planet’s boundless sea

“Well,” she begins slowly. “As long as you work to communicate with your friends whenever you feel overwhelmed in the future, and promise not to kidnap all of my morps into space again, I think we can call it even.”

She places one of her hands atop hers, the action but a small sign of their renewed goodwill.

“In any case, I’m- really glad you’re back,” she says, fondness evident in her tone.

Lapis smiles.

The ocean’s melody is no longer tinged with a companionless melancholy.

_

It’s funny how things can change.

She spent thousands of years terrified of the consequences of being caught as traitor to the Great Diamond Authority, and now she’s planning to illegally commandeer a diamond ship to fly a rescue mission into the stagnant heart of Homeworld. She’s only been a Crystal Gem for the equivalent of a few minutes, and yet she’s already reformed bolder and braver than ever before.

She feels strong. Despite the inherent danger of their task, she feels an ever-building reassurance, fighting amongst her friends. For the first time ever, she finally feels like someone has her back.

Lapis closes her eyes as she reflects on the culmination of her journey, standing confident alongside her dear friend on the bridge of Blue’s ship.

No more searching. No more running. She’s finally free.

[ajokeformur-ray]

My One Companion // Ezzie x J // soft NSFW (sensual) and fluff.

Summary: Cozy. Home. J coming home after wreaking havoc in the streets of Gotham to someone who loves him even though he's rough and callous. He likes it and he'll never admit to it, but I know he does. Begrudging but not reluctant cuddles, J receives some much needed TLC. Sensual cuddles/light smut. @ezziesworld​

A/N: asdfghjkl Ezzie omgggggg~ girl I love you <333 you’re such a treasure and such a wonderful person!!! I wanted to do this for you because you do so much for us and you’ve never been anything but endlessly kind to me so I hope that you enjoy this!!! If you want anything redone, please let me know!! ILYYYYY ~ <33333 

Also, I’m so so sorry that this is late omgggg~ I hope the length makes up for it!! <3 I reread your Domestic Bliss series and because you referenced it when you gave me your personal info., I did my best to incorporate some pieces of it in this gift!! <3

Word count: 4, 965.

J had been gone for days.

Long stretches of time without your clown were torture for you. You hadn’t heard a single thing from him or even any of his men. Where was he? What was he doing? Was he safe, was he okay? Was he... was he dead? No - you shook that thought from your mind as quickly as it had occurred to you. You didn’t want or need to go down that path, it would only lead to deeper feelings than you were able to stomach or process at the moment. 

Oh, but you were so sick with worry for J.

Like the previous three days in a row did the time trickle past, somehow so slowly that you barely noticed and yet so quickly that you did. You felt stuck in limbo, just waiting. Unknowing of where J was or if he was okay. Unsure of what was going to happen, of when he was coming home. Yes, you were waiting for a man to come home and a part of you bristled at that, but the larger part of you, the part which had never bothered to fight what you had with J, was pleased, for surely your worry was the greatest proof you currently possessed of just how dearly, how deeply, you loved J.

Love...

Yes, you loved J. You adored every single thing about him. You had never been afraid of him, not even for a second. You were pretty emotionless as a person, but there was just something so otherworldly, so ethereal about J that you couldn’t help it. He was so intriguing and the numerous layers of darkness you saw in him only added to the overall mystery which surrounded him. You would truly never know J; he was the kind of person who invented himself each and every day. Some days he was a psychopathic killer, other days he was a true jester... every day with your clown was different and you only loved him all the more for it.

The more you thought about J, the more love bloomed in your chest. The heat of such an emotion, so intense and so all-consuming was it that it was bigger than you, spread strongly through your veins and warmed you to the very tips of your toes. Though you knew not where J was, what he was doing, the knowledge that he was out there somewhere as you looked out of the window kept you company. Loneliness lingered in the air of the apartment but it was kept away with thoughts of J. Of that intense chocolate gaze, of that hastily applied greasepaint which he rarely, if ever, fully washed off. Any part of his paint which came off was only painted over. J was almost always covered in at least five layers of greasepaint and it so perfectly represented who he was; he was just a man, just human like you were, but he was protected by layers and layers of mystery, intrigue... 

Oh, he was so beautiful. 

The longer you thought about J and the more you thought about how he wasn’t here, you only missed him more. You only loved him more, for all that he was and all that he would ever be. If you had your way, he would have come home days ago. Hell, he may even have never left. You knew that J was more than capable of looking after himself. He was most often the one behind riots and fights, heists, of entire buses being tipped over the edge of a bridge... though he said that he never had plans, he always had ideas. It didn’t matter how or why or when those ideas were carried out to fruition, just so long as they were. J could take care of himself, but you worried about him often. It was enough to drive you crazy, but the multiple layers of darkness in J called out to the darkness in you and you found yourself answering his call each and every day. You wondered if perhaps what the two of you shared together, had built together, was unhealthy in some ways, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. If J asked you to jump, your first and only question would be “how high?”. So long as you had J in your life, for all that he was, all that he had ever been and all that he ever would be, why... you had the world.

Perhaps that was why you stayed, no matter how much you missed him, no matter how much he put you through, no matter how long he was gone without a single word to you. J may have been a man of his word but he didn’t use them very often. He was a man of action. If he wanted to do something, he did it. He lived simply, when you really and truly thought about it. He was a man without rules, without plans. J was impulsive, reckless. He kept you on your toes each and every day and no two days were exactly the same. But there was one thing, just one, which you clung to no matter what he said or did: J always, always came home to you eventually. He never said that he was coming back, or when, but you knew that he would. You trusted him, you loved him, and you knew that there was no real reason to worry; J was always just fine and he always came home to you. He was rough and callous but you knew that he liked the tenderness which you greeted him with every time he came through your window; dirty, greasy haired and stinking to high heaven of gunpowder, gasoline and greasepaint, but what mattered was that he stayed. He stayed with you, beside you, and it was for this reason that you did, too. In staying with you, in coming home to you as he did, was J revealing all the untold truths of your situation together. J’s love language was one very few in the world even bothered to hear, let alone listen to, but you... oh, but you had taken the time to learn his love language as intimately as you knew your own, and it was so loud.

It was getting dark outside. You had been stood at the window for some time now, watching the gloomy grey Gotham sky darken into darker hues of purples and blues, which blended together so perfectly as the sun dipped below the horizon. The colours, like a gigantic bruise, as if the world was hurting, only darkened the longer that you stood there watching, waiting, for J. Oh, how had he reduced you to this? A part of you wondered if he stayed away for longer on purpose, just to see what you would do. Social experiments were one of J’s favourite things to do, he loved exposing the darkness in people. As the beautiful shades of the sky became black, the vast limitless expanse of the night sky was left unpunctuated by stars or constellations, so filled with pollution was the city air. It poisoned your lungs each and every day, the city dragged you down and made you feel like you were less than you were. You doubted things precious to you, things you needed as much as you craved oxygen, but J... oh, but J was able to breathe life back into you. He was your reason and your purpose, your drive... he was your everything. J reminded you each and every day of the things which truly mattered and he didn’t even have to try to do so; he achieved it simply by being his refreshingly chaotic self. J didn’t care. He was a true nihilist and his views, his attitudes, were both liberating and depressing; life was just a bad joke. Nothing needed to be taken as seriously as it was and in J did you find peace with yourself and your place in the world. He was right, when you really thought about it all; what did it matter? You would die one day anyway, so you may as well have fun while you’re here. 

Your thoughts had no chance to go further, to explore your own views of J’s attitudes, for there was a loud bang at the window and you jumped back at the sight of a ghostly white face and large, black eyes, and - over the pounding of your heart and the roaring in your ears of blood did reality kick in and you realised that there was no ghostly apparition at the window. No. J was home. You gasped, relief and love flowing through your body as you flung yourself forward and almost ripped the window open to let your clown home. J was home. “J, what are you doing? Why didn’t you just use the door?” Oh, but the many risks of harbouring a terrorising murderous clown gave you near daily heart attacks and so much anxiety, but you never regretted it for even a second. J coming home to you meant that he trusted you, that your space was safe. It meant that he was safe with you and it was one of the loudest displays of affection, at the very least, which he could show you.

J lowered himself across the frame, his upper body being lowered carelessly. His head hit the carpeted floor with a dull thud and you winced as gracelessly did his legs follow suit until there was a messy purple puddle of a man on your bedroom floor, his limbs everywhere. Oh, lord, he did not smell good but you didn’t even want to know what he had been doing since he had left without saying anything to you. Any information he gave you, even if it was false or a half truth,  could incriminate you. It could put you in danger and that was one thing which J would not stand for. In fewer words had J sworn to always protect you and as such, he never told you anything, not even lies for most often are they grounded in some semblance of truth. Nothing and no one would ever harm you on J’s watch, and that included any harm which you could do to yourself with your fears, anxieties, doubts and worries. You were completely and utterly safe with J. There was nothing you could ever say or do which would send him away. Nothing surprised him, not really, but you did have one advantage over the man who was always the smartest one in the room: your feelings for him surprised him constantly. For so long he thought that you were only showing interest in him because of his title as the clown prince of crime, because of his status in the city. For protection, for money, for brags. But you proved him wrong every single day and it was the one thing which always caught him by surprise.

That, and how fierce you were when you looked after him.

Like right now.

J wasn’t moving. He had just... clumsily rolled in through your hastily opened window and not even bothered to break his own fall, and now he was just lying there. You were torn between being amused and being concerned for how little he cared for his own well being. “Where would you be without me, J?” With an exasperated groan, you reached out for your clown and slid your hands between his armpits, getting as firm a grip on him as you could. “You gotta help me get you up, J. I’m not as strong as you.” Oh, but you were. You were a firecracker who was more than capable of holding her own, and you both knew it. In this instance, you only meant physical strength, and J emitted the softest of grunts which really told you just how physically exhausted he was.

J groaned tiredly as you hauled him up, just barely holding your own weight. You were an exact foot shorter than J. Your much smaller frame was not designed to hold up someone as broad and as muscular as J was, and even through his many layers could you feel the definition of his biceps as you walked with him to the bathroom. You kept a steadying arm around his waist and ignored his protests of, “Ezzie, ya don’t gotta smother me” and “stop handlin’ me”. He was more tired than he was letting on and you both knew it. He was rough and callous but you knew that he had missed you as much as you had missed him, and you also knew that even though he would never admit it, he appreciated all the ways you took care of him. If he had been alone, he would have simply fallen asleep right there on the floor, unshowered, unfed, dehydrated and stinking the room out. He would have woken up with muscle aches beyond what was comfortable and you both knew that even though you were using a firm hand with him, it was a needed one. It was for his own good and you were almost wholly convinced that his grumbling was all just for show, even with how he was almost dead on his feet. J was ever the dramatic man and right now was no different. J appreciated you for everything that you were, hell, even all the things that you weren’t because you were always so unashamedly yourself no matter what you went through. 

J had a softer than soft spot for you, and as a result, you were his one and only weakness. 

But you never held it over his head. You never questioned it, you never allowed yourself to. You simply accepted J for all that he was and in return did he accept you for all you were. You had taken each other on for all that the other was and you only had a deeper connection for it. Gotham was a city in desperate need of a complete overhaul and everything was chaos. Within that often terrifying lack of order and certainty, you found each other. Two souls, set apart from the rest of the city, had come together and forged such a beautiful and raw connection. Sometimes, when J missed you (not that he would ever admit it, even to himself), he found himself whispering your name to keep him company in a way no one else ever could. No one had gotten as close to him as you. Your name fell from his full lips like a litany and the repetitions blended and merged together until it was the music which he danced to, the song which accompanied the beating of his own heart; for surely you were in there, too. 

So often did you play through J’s mind like the most intoxicating symphony. It was maddening, really, the effect that you had on him and you didn’t even know it. You were a strong woman, powerful and so much of you was untouched by J; each and every day did he learn something new about you. That excitement kept him on his toes; you both presented a mystery to the other but you would never solve one another. Your depths were murky, full of contradictions and of untapped potentials and of so much life. Oh, but you and J were so well suited to one another. If either of you were romantics, you would suggest that you were soulmates. At the very least, it was certainly true that you both saw something in the other which kept you coming back for more time and time again. Perhaps that was all that soulmates were; two people who keep falling back together again and again and again for a reason neither of them knew, though each day did they feel it.

You flicked on the water in the shower and slowly, carefully, did you peel J’s royal purple trench coat off his body, mindfully lowering it to the floor. No doubt he had grenades, smoke bombs and the like in there, not to mention the copious blades he kept on him. You undressed his top half and then his bottom half, your eyes moving over his body both appreciatively and critically as you checked him over; looking for cuts, bruises, injuries... oh, but you couldn’t stand the thought of J suffering any kind of pain beyond that which you had inflicted upon him yourself, and it was definitely the same for J when it came to you. Two sets of brown eyes met as J stepped into the shower. He held a hand out for you to take, to help you in once you had undressed yourself, too, and your heart leapt at this small sign of affection from him. His heart was unlocked to you this night, his guard completely lowered. Before you, as you poured shampoo onto your hand, J’s head under the showerhead, wasn’t The Joker or J. Before you was Jack, the human underneath the person the entire city perceived to be a monster. He wasn’t a monster, this you knew, and well, and though you loved who he was and the way that he created himself each and every single day, your heart bled when all of those layers and all of those masks fell down, fell off, and the man beneath it all, when the beauty of who he was, of who he really was, was exposed to you.

You treasured these times like nothing else. 

“Come here, J,” You began to lather up his greasy hair, which began to foam up sea green. It’d need a re-dye soon, this you could see, and you wondered idly if he’d let you do it for him. J groaned tiredly, low in his throat, his head tipping back, back, exposing the column of his neck as greasepaint ran down his skin, creating a river of white, black and red which ran down his body, chased away by the hot water. Coupled with the feeling of your nimble fingers in your hair, J was well and truly on the way to falling asleep. His entire body felt so heavy, like it was on clouds, and he found himself sinking into your touch. J trusted you, he realised somewhere in the back of his mind. As shampoo suds ran off his body, cleansing hair and flesh alike, J tipped forward, forward, hunching down, down, so that he could rest his forehead on the slope of your shoulder. You smiled, you smiled, and you pressed a kiss to the top of his fully washed hair, rubbing your hands up and down your back as you used those shampoo suds to wash his back; it was all the same stuff, you knew, but you also knew that J was well and truly too tired to be in the shower for much longer. 

“J, you can’t sleep here.”

A grunt, a sigh, and J wrenched himself upwards, shaking his hair like a dog. “I’m up, I’m up,” He sighed heavily and eyed you. “Aren’t’cha gonna shower too, doll?” 

You’d almost forgotten about yourself, so concerned for J were you. You had just recently dyed your hair various shades of purple, blue and green and it didn’t really need a wash just yet. Your hair was mostly dry because J had been in the direct path of the water, and you shook your head. “No, I showered yesterday. Let me take you to bed, okay? You’re exhausted.” Blindly did J shut off the water, his eyes closed and his body relying on muscle memory. He grabbed the towel slung over the top of the shower and dried himself off with broad, swift strokes of the towel on both arms, his legs, his shoulders... J fluffed up his hair, not caring for how tangled it would be as a result, and you let him do this; at least he was keeping himself awake. You suspected that he was being rough with the towel to wake himself up, as well as a general and genuine lack of care towards his own person, something which never failed to make your heart twinge in your chest.

You hadn’t mentioned your own exhaustion. You didn’t tell J about how worried and how anxious you had been for him, for where he was and for how he was. Despite his current behaviour, you knew that he wasn’t a man who appreciated being coddled. He didn’t need looking after and times previous when you had tried to do just that had he scoffed at you and rolled his eyes, adjusted his braces and said something along the lines of, “quit naggin’ at me, Ezzie". Sometimes it made you angry but sometimes you didn’t really care. You had long since learned to be unbothered by J’s rough and callous manner. It was who he was and you loved him unconditionally. You wouldn’t ever change a single thing about him and you knew that he felt the same way about you, whether he said it or not. He didn’t need to; everything you ever need to hear J say was in those gorgeous chocolate eyes.

J knew that you were exhausted. He knew that you had missed him. He liked the way that you hadn’t said anything, too, because to him it only made it that much more meaningful when, as he finally collapsed into bed after being on his feet for over three days (how he was still awake at this point, even he didn’t know, but he suspected that his military past had something to do with it), you were instantly laying your head on his chest. Your ear pressed down hard over the spot where his heart was and you heard it beating fiercely through his warm flesh. Oh, but he was like a heater. J always ran hot, even in the dead of winter. He chuckled darkly, lazily, like he almost couldn’t be bothered to even express himself but his amusement overshadowed his need for sleep in that moment. “Ya’ just can’t resist me, can ya’, Ezzie?”

You made a sleepy noise, already feeling the heavy shackles of sleep binding you to the bed, to the duvet which fell so perfectly over your weary form, the way the mattress and J’s body kept you safe, sane... honest in who you were as finally did you succumb to your body’s needs. You had barely slept since he had been gone, only catching snatches of sleep every now and then. Running on naps was not ideal but without your clown could you not rest and you knew, somewhere in the back of your mind, that it was the same for J, too. He never truly relaxed, vigilance was simply integral to who he was after all he had said, after all he had done and experienced and been through. “No, but neither can you.” You raised your head and grinned at J, and he merely cocked an eyebrow in response.

J made a show of pushing you off of him, leaving your body feeling cold, empty without him there beneath you, but then he moved so fast that your naked eyes couldn’t catch up to the movement as he managed to get you on your back. He loomed over you, his hips snug against yours. You could feel his thick cock resting against your inner thigh; he was already half erect and you wondered what it was this time that had done it for him. In truth, nothing had. It was leftover adrenaline which was still coursing through his veins which still had him unable to fully rest, to succumb just as you wanted to do to the blissfully numbing effects of sleep. Morpheus was determined, this you both knew, but the feelings which you had for each other were even more so and after any kind of absence of J’s part did they demand to be felt. There could be no escaping the sweetness of reunion intimacy, even and most especially now. 

Your hands, which had been resting on his shoulders as you fought for some semblance of control, over the situation, over reality, slid up, up, into his wet hair, the strands sticking to your fingers. You gripped at those strands and J hissed air in through his teeth as you pulled back, exposing that slender column of your neck. Your lips attached to his neck and J pushed himself into your touch, wanting more of everything. J was your religion and you daily laid worship at his altar. Your open mouthed kisses were slow, reverent as you truly loved on him; as you told him that you loved him over and over and over again with your lips, your hot pink tongue leaving the warm cavern of your mouth as you licked and sucked and marked J as your own in all the same ways that he had done to you in the past. 

J’s hands gripped your hips tight, his hold on you bruising. There would be marks on the both of you after this but it was needed, it was wanted; that irrefutable proof that you owned each other; that you were J’s and that he was yours and that, no matter how far he strayed, no matter where he went, no matter what he did or who he was, that he would come home to you. You, with your brightly coloured hair, your gorgeous tattoos and those eyes which so captivated J and held his attention. Only you could ever hold J’s attention for long, but even so did he pull himself from your grip, his hands sliding up your body, his flesh ghosting across yours as he grabbed your face in both hands and kissed you hard. His lips were as bruising as his hands and as he devoured your mouth with his own could you feel the slightly greasy film which remained on his face, the outline of his teeth against yours... oh, but you were on fire and though you were both naked, though you could feel J pressed against your core so deliciously that it was driving you mad with want, with passion, there was nothing sexual in this. No, this was sensual, intimate... this was two souls coming home to each other for the first time in several days.

As quickly as he had kissed you was J gone, moving off of you completely and laying beside you. He groaned, low and deep and passed a hand over his face, looking well and truly fucked. There was a blackness under and around his eyes which could have been leftover greasepaint, but it could also have been real tiredness. Insomnia, nightmares... you knew not what plagued your J but both of you had barely slept since he had left, so in the end you chased away all questions. You wanted J to ask you to cuddle, you wanted him to show that he wanted your body against his as much as you wanted his against yours, but you wouldn’t ask. You wanted him to show you how much you meant to him, in any way he felt comfortable.

But this time, for whatever reason... he told you.

Time ticked past without event, marked only by your breathing. For every inhale you took did J exhale; so alike were you that even your natural systems aligned in some way. You were just on the edge of sleep and then J cracked one eye open and you felt him turn his head to look at you, shuffling over so that he was laying on your hair. The slight sting of that pulling sensation made you look at him. Two sets of dark brown eyes met and J grinned maniacally, his eyes alight with mischief but also with something which tugged your own heartstrings and he grabbed you roughly, his movements slow, as he tugged you into his body. J rutted against you a few times, his cock pressing into your cheeks, his full lips pressing kisses to wherever he could reach. His hands, fingers splayed so that he could touch as much of you as he could all at the same time, moved up and down your uppermost arm, chafing some warmth into you.

“I had, ah - a rough time without ya’, Ezzie.” 

You heard what J said, his voice soft, tired, but you listened to what he didn’t and it was this that made you smile and reach a hand back, blindly feeling for his hair. Your fingers slid into his hair and you pushed your body into J, wanting all of him aligned with you. So much shorter than him were you that your feet barely reached his shins, but that barely mattered for J tucked one of his muscular legs between both of yours, anchoring the two of you together for the night. You had no doubt that he would wake you up with a similar activity, once you were both more awake and aware of yourselves and each other, but for right now you could only feel his heated flesh against yours, still slightly damp from his shower, his clumsy, sloppy kisses against your back as he reassured himself of your existence, of your presence beside him, and the love which, though always was it unvoiced, was so potent, so rich that it was like a third entity in the room with you. It shielded you and protected you both. It kept you both safe, sane... and honest.

Finally, finally, had J come home, and so had you.

[only-here-for-jatp]

Build-a-Band pt 7 The End

Just me tying up loose ends

Featuring: WILLEX <3, the boys playing with their bears like they’re seven, Juke, hotdogs

As always you can read on Ao3 here

But also below! ~2300 words

The boys poofed back to the studio hearts as full as their arms full of stuffed bears.

Luke and Alex were both jittery with anxiety. Luke hadn’t seen Julie hug her bear, but he also hadn’t seen her not hug her bear and he was growing very concerned at the prospect of when or if she’d hear the lyrics he’d poured into the heart. He hadn’t meant to offer a confession, hadn’t meant to reveal his feelings so blatantly.

What if she didn’t like the song? What if she didn’t like him? What if she didn’t get it and he was stuck in this nightmare limbo waiting for her to realize as she kept hugging and hugging the bear that they lyrics were about her???

Yup he was a ball of anxiety, but at least he wasn’t alone.

Every now and again Alex would shift onto the balls of his feet and then back down. His mind zipping down very similar avenues to Luke. He’d impulsively made a bear for Willie but what if Willie thought it was dorky and lame? Was it weird for a not-dating person to give another a teddy bear? What if he heard the message and didn’t feel the same way?

I mean. Alex was pretty sure Willie liked him? But the more and more it went around in his head the less sure he was that he was interpreting Willie’s actions correctly. I mean they could just be friends?

Reggie quietly noted his friends’ anxiety and while he had no idea why it was happening; he knew a surefire way to cheer them up. Luckily, it was also one of the things he was best at, distraction.

He held up Sir Reginald II, a name he loved and adored since it meant Julie remembered his story about Sir Reginald I, and in his best teddy bear voice ( which mostly turned out to be a weird falsetto) said “Hello there!”

Both anxiety ridden boys eyed him warily and Reggie took this as permission to move Sir Reginald II verrrryyy close to Luke’s face. “Have you seen my friend Lukas? He’s late for band practice.” Luke’s eyes widened and glanced between Reggie and Sir Reginald II as Alex let out a snicker. “Wellllll? Have you seen him?”

Luke let out a sigh, knowing Reggie wasn’t going to let him out of this. He pulled Lukas up in front of his face and mimicking Reggie’s voice as best he could responded. “Sorry Reginald. I didn’t mean to run late.” At this point Alex was nearly doubled over with silent laughter. The sight of Reggie’s face all lit up though made Luke warm inside and suddenly he knew their next move. He raised an eyebrow at Alex who discovered too late what Luke was planning.

Luke bounded over, put Lukas right into Alex’s face and asked “Have you seen my friend Alexander? I’ve been looking all over for him.”

Alex slowly backed away “I’m not doing this.”

A quick exchange of glances brought Reggie on board with Luke’s plan and soon Reginald and Lukas were chasing Alex around the study asking and asking about Alexander their best friend. It wasn’t until Alex tripped, falling onto the bed where Alexander lay (tucked in no less) that he gave in. He pulled Alexander out and in the same falsetto his bandmates used called “Who disturbed my nap!”

The three boys grinned and thus they were off.  They spent the rest of the day pretending with their new stuffies, reliving favorite moments of their life or pretending to play major stages around the world. They even took turns pretending to be Julie and reenacting some of their favorite moments with her.

In fact, the trio was having so much fun that Alex had forgotten about promising to meet Willie, who after waiting and growing concerned came looking for him. Willie stayed out of sight for as long as he could, watching the blonde-haired boy who he wanted to be around every second of every day laughed and joked with his brothers. Willie could feel the smile growing on his face at the sight of these three rock band boys kneeling on the ground miming arms and leg movements of stuffed bears while playing out scenes in funny voices.

However, his spying was up after Reginald and Lukas ganged up on Alexander (he’d long since figured out the names) in a hug pile and he burst into laughter.

All three boys heads whipped around suddenly very shy and sheepish at the thought that someone had been watching their antics over the last couple of hours. Alex turned nearly bright red, stammering out excuse after excuse for missing their plans and finding Willie here.

Willie turned to Alex with a soft smile. “Oh hotdog. You missed our plans AND y’all made bears for everyone except me and are having all this fun? My feelings are hurt.” He couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Alex just a little. After all, he was incredibly adorable when flustered.

Luke and Reggie glanced at each other smiles growing wide as Alex grew even redder and began mumbling under his breath. In a move to both help and tease him, Luke and Reggie called out “Hey Alex, what is that you’re mumbling? Maybe you should say it louder.”

Willie tilted his head to the side in confusion as Alex took a deep breath and plucked up the courage to speak just a little louder. It was still barely audible, but Willie still caught it.

“I made you a bear”

Willie thought his heart was going to burst. He’d seen the bear-ified version of the band but as he glanced around the room he noticed a bear in a skater outfit off to the side. “You made me a bear?” Willie knew his voice was soft and he knew Alex liked him, but to include him in this little family of bears meant so much. He slowly moved toward the stuffie which had his signature tie dye and skateboard.

Alex began to ramble as Willie began a dedicated perusal of the bear. “I know it’s kind of lame, but I kept walking past it and it has two hearts sewn onto his chest and I don’t know something about its face reminded me of you and yeah it’s lame, you don’t have to keep it….”

Willie burst in. “No. I- I love it. Is it alright if he lives here though? I don’t want…”

“No, no, yeah totally.”

Willie’s head sprang up to look at Alex all of a sudden and a signature mischievous smirk filled his face. “Wait a second. You said there were two hearts sewn into the chest. Why would that remind you of me?”

Alex’s eyes widened as he shot looks to Reggie and Luke who had settled quite comfortably on the couch, bears in their laps to enjoy the show. They offered him an encouraging smile and a couple of nods. Alex gulped, took a deep breath and said as confidently as he could “It seemed kind of poetic. Since you.. uh… kind of… hold mine?” He hadn’t really managed for it to come out as a question, but he’d started to wince as if preparing for a negative reaction from Willie.

Instead, Willie wrapped himself around Alex in a fierce hug, never letting go of William. “You hold mine too Alex.”

Alex being too surprised, didn’t hug back right away, but with a squeaky “wait really??” he hugged on so tight that if either of them needed to breathe, they would probably be worrying about it. The two had started to jump around a little making happy noises while Reggie and Luke beamed.

The hug had barely broken apart when Julie joined them in the studio with a questioning look, but before anyone could say anything Alex burst out “I HAVE A BOYFRIEND!!” before shooting nervous glances at Willie “I mean, if you want.”

Willie chuckled, “Definitely”

Alex couldn’t stop smiling, but of course now was when he remembered “You should hug William. When I hugged Alexander I could hear the wish Reggie made for me and I uh, may have left you one too.”

Willie looked slightly confused, but sure enough when he squeezed William the Sk8 Bear tightly Alex’s voice whispered in his mind.

I wish for an eternity to hold your hand.

Willie seemed to melt a little, before he entwined his hands with Alex’s. “For eternity” he whispered just loud enough for Alex to hear. They both blushed, but everyone else mostly looked confused.

Luke was the first to speak up. “I also heard Reggie’s wish when I squeezed Lukas.”

Reggie looked entirely confused. “You could hear… my wishes? That’s awesome!!! But also, you couldn’t hear Julie’s?” Alex and Luke both shot a look at Reggie. “She made wishes on both your hearts also, but you didn’t hear hers?”

Julie’s face was growing slightly pale. She hadn’t realized they could hear those wishes. The thought of Luke hearing those lyrics was maybe making her panic a little, but maybe since he hadn’t heard them yet he wouldn’t. It helped her fear a little that there was some overwhelming curiosity about the wish Luke left for her.

Alex’s voice cut through her questioning. “You know, I only tried the one time.” Luke sounded an agreement before Reggie cut in.

“You know it’s kind of cool if you think about it, she ended up leaving a wish on all our bears. Maybe we should try together to hear it?” The boys nodded as Julie watched with concern.

Alex’s face changed first. A small gasp echoing out of him and his eyes pooling with tears as he rushed towards Julie to envelop her in a hug. She’d made him feel seen and valued and the reassurance that he had a special and unique existence to her was a security he hadn’t realized he needed.

Reggie hugged his bear two or three times just listening to the message she’d left him over and over again.

Sir Reginald II please take care of Reggie. Sometimes he doesn’t realize how important he is. He’s the glue that holds us all together and keeps us going when everything seems bleak. He is so loved and so valuable. Please remind him of that when everything seems hard.

Reggie glomped her next. Crying just a little at the words she left him which touched on his biggest and darkest insecurity. He could help but whisper his thanks and she pulled him tighter telling him that he was basically her brother. Reggie could no longer tell if he was laughing or sobbing everything was perfect.

Julie was having difficulty holding up the two emotional boys and she was filled with warmth at their love almost as much as she was filled with tension. She could barely see Luke which meant she couldn’t see his reaction.

Luke was having difficulty breathing and functioning. He didn’t need to breathe but now he couldn’t do it and he really felt like he needed to do it. He couldn’t-

He couldn’t believe it.

We say we're friends, we play pretend. You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high. We come to life when we're, In perfect harmony

She’d poured the same song, the same words, the same wish into his bear as he had into hers. Julie Molina loved him. He had absolute verifiable proof and he didn’t want to waste another second without her. Without her knowing that she was the most precious, wonderful, thing about his life. So he did the only reasonable thing he could.

He yanked his crying brothers off of the girl they also loved more than anything, but not as much as him and worked on gaining her attention. He smiled. She looked slightly terrified, but she didn’t have to be. She just need to hug Jules.

“Julie. Julie. Julie. Julie! You need to hug Jules. Right now. You need to hug her right now. RIGHT NOW.”

His boys looked pissed, but slowly they could tell by the rush and joyous mania radiating from their friend that this was Important and begrudgingly stood out of the way.

Julie looked at Luke with big eyes as he insistently shoved Jules at her. He seemed excited and thrilled and flushed and by god if he didn’t stop rushing her she was going to-

We say we're friends, we play pretend. You're more to me, we're everything Our voices rise and soar so high. We come to life when we're, In perfect harmony

The song filtered through her head as she hugged Jules and she felt her mouth drop as her eyes snapped to his. She watched his grin widen as he saw her figured it out. Her eyes met his and she was drowning. He was too far away and they both rushed into each other. They took another second to stare before wrapping each other in a tight hug.

Alex groaned a little, in a good-natured way, his hand once more linked with Willie’s. “Not that we’re not glad that you both finally got your lives together, but do either of you care to explain what exactly just happened?”

Slowly Luke and Julie moved out of hugging, but they still hovered around each other with their hands intertwined as they explained. They took turns explaining that somehow, someway, they’d left the same wish in each other’s bear. More than that, they were the same lyrics from the same love song they’d written without telling the other.

The shocked faces on all cause Luke and Julie to burst into laughter and soon all five of them were falling together into a hug. Julie carried one more surprise though in her back pocket. Slowly she pulled out three hotdog accessories for their new Build a Bears.

The boys looked at her with shock and horror as she grinned sheepishly at them.

“I couldn’t resist!”

They spent the afternoon playing with Jules, Lukas, Reginald, Alex and William. Then, when the time came for sleep, they couldn’t bear to leave each other so four ghosts, one human, and 5 teddy bear fell asleep in a pile of warmth and love.

[maruzzewrites]

“I’ll kiss away the pain, doll.” - Risotto 👀

42. “I’ll kiss away the pain, doll.”

Content warnings: yandere content, obsessive behavior, implied stalking, creepy behavior, gore, violence, mouth trauma, throat trauma, you know what’s up fellas.

Vacations were very rare for you. You were soused to work or study, so used to the routine of buzzing sounds of a city, themurmur of people all running and fleeing around you, that you never reallythought about the possibility of taking some time off. You had certain goalsyou wanted to meet in set dates, set timeframes, just to prove yourselfsomething and because of the need of building self-discipline. Otherwise, youwere afraid you’d fall into a pit of inactivity, forever stalling in the stillwater of the present and never thinking of what was to come.

However, it was obvious that the rhythm youimposed to yourself could be sustained for only so long, until your mind gaveout and worried the people around you. You had the fortune of having caring family,caring peers and caring colleagues, who first encouraged, then demanded youtook time off your busy schedule even if you would use the time to lie down anddo nothing in the privacy of your room. But, ever the busybody, you couldn’tstand the thought of listening to the tick of the clock as it displayed thetime separating you from your return to your normal life. So, you packed yourbags and decided to take a little trip, not far away from your home. With a fewcalls, you found a hotel with vacancy ready to welcome you on the warm beaches ofa city near Naples, and you said goodbye to your loved ones with the promisesof photos.

The drive, on the bus, was rather quiet, but thetrepidation inside your chest made you understand how much your body craved therest you denied to yourself. Your arrival wasn’t spectacular, of course, butthe staff of the hotel was cordial, affable, more than willing to bring yoursuitcase to your room and let you know everything you needed about breakfast,lunch and dinner. With the keys in your pocket, you didn’t spend much time inyour own room, preferring to get familiar with the place before heading out toenjoy an evening walking around the little city you picked for your vacation.

The hall, the common rooms, the restaurant, allwere delightful and tidy, the perfect package for someone who wanted to simplyrelax for a few days without having a worry in mind. With light steps, the onlyburden the strain still present on your mind, you walked towards the garden inthe back of the hotel. Bright, warm sun rays washed over the little green space,with a short stone rail separating the building behind you from the privatebeach reserved to the patrons of the hotel. You rested your hands on the rail,looking at the sea, gently moved by the breeze that carried salt and aromas toyou with delicacy. It had been so long since you enjoyed the seaside, despiteliving so close to it, and your mind was filled not only with pleasant plansfor these coming days, but with memories of childhood and adolescence full ofcareless moments.

So engrossed in your own musings, that you didn’tnotice the presence of someone else right there. It’s only a small creak,almost inaudible, that woke you up from your reverie, and you whipped your headin the direction of the faint sound. With a breath, you took in a black, dullelement in the colorful scenario you were in; a man, dark and tall, seated on abench right on edge of the visible garden, against a bush. He had a computer onhis lap, and gloomy staring at you with deep red irises. For a moment, yourcuriosity about the weird appearance of the man didn’t allow you to feel anyfear at his presence, your head simply tilted into an inquisitive look as youscrutinized the person that entered your field of vision. It was only when heslammed the computer shut and moved towards you that you seemed to understandhe was an actual person, someone alive and breathing you were staring at. Inthe panic of such an imposing man stalking in your direction with calmconfidence, you didn’t think about escaping or running back to your room.

“Who are you?” His question was direct, easy toanswer, and it made you seal your lips with violence. You looked up at him, athis face, casted in shadow despite the sun shining high and bright over yourheads. You didn’t think about throwing quick glances around you, to check forany exit, and you just watched his steely face, as if he was unable to betrayany sort of emotion he didn’t want to display by his own volition. After a fewseconds in complete silence, you parted your lips to breath, and an answerspilled from your lips before you could stop yourself. You told him who youwere, throwing a mechanic greeting and the usual pleasantries, as if your brainjust decided to follow a script you prepared time ago.

His eyes searched you, the steel and coldnessbehind them draining slowly as you stood there paralyzed by his gaze, until hesighed in the most imperceptible way – you caught it simply because you werehyper-aware of his movements, of his reactions. He didn’t turn around, he didn’tcontinue to talk, you were stuck in an uncanny limbo where he was staring atyou and you had to fight the fear raising and gripping your throat. You wantedto walk away from that strange enchantment you were under, so you broke the eyecontact and glanced at the hotel. You raised a hand, waved goodbye, and smiledat him in a way you hoped was reassuring enough, speaking only to say you hopedto see him around. Before you fully turned away, you saw his face change,colored with surprise at your statement.

After that, you managed to actually meet himagain. More than once, too, as if he was especially seeking you out every timeyou were out your room and staying in the common rooms, on the private beach orjust standing outside your door for a little while. You wanted to assume he wason your same floor, but you couldn’t fully trust your wishful thinking when youwere getting more and more paranoid with how insistent and nosy that man was.He would ask to sit at the same table as you at lunch, pick the spot rightbesides you on the beach, make awkward small talk and awful conversation thathe started, but didn’t seem to be able to carry on without your help. It wasodd, uncomfortable even, and you couldn’t believe the few days of vacation yougot were ruined by such a creep.

Luckily, the last day rolled around, and you werepacking the few things you scattered around your room. Enjoying the remaining momentsof relax, you opted to stay inside all day and avoid all encounters withpotential neighbors or unrelenting suitors, no matter how flattering theythought they would be. You didn’t even get out to have lunch, simply appreciatingroom service for the possibility of dodging the necessity of getting out. Oncedinner arrived, however, you were too bored to stay in your room and headed tothe restaurant without too much thought about meeting that man, sure you’dleave him behind you once you were back at home.

“You weren’t here today.” Predictably, heapproached your table as soon as you were distracted, and you winced at hisvoice, at his tone filled with admonishment. You had no idea how he managed tosneak up on you so easily every time, but you didn’t appreciate the feeling of beingcornered each single time you saw him. Yet, you decided to keep peace for now,so close to escaping his attention, so you entertained a conversation with himwith more enthusiasm than usual. He seemed to notice, if the flash of a grin onhis face was any indication of his own thoughts.

The evening was going smoothly, despite theuncomfortable feeling gripping your stomach, and you considered how slippingaway without resistance just to leave him behind and have a peaceful last nightof sleep before returning to your routine. In your distraction, you let out theinformation about your imminent departure, about how you were about to returnhome and other idle comments about your time in that city, and you didn’tnotice how the man fell silent all of the sudden. His eyes bore into you,searching, analyzing, and you squirmed as soon as you noticed the weight of thatgaze. You excused yourself quickly, jogging towards your room.

Just as you were about to reach the right floor,you felt something under your skin. A vicious, slick sensation snaking all overyour body, flowing like a dull pain in the same point in your throat. Youcoughed, trying to get rid of the tightness you felt, but the pain was growingto the point of making you weep. You stopped in your tracks, looking around tofind some help, but the staircase was empty. Suddenly, you felt your throatbust open, yet the ache came only after; with your hands holding your newinjury, warm blood wetting your fingers, you let out a choked scream, but yourvoice didn’t spill from your lips for long as a hand pressed against your mouthto stop you from making any sound.

Your gaze was unfocused because of the shock, thepain and the blood loss, but you turned your head anyway, whatever was in yourthroat tearing agonizingly at the skin and the muscle with the movement of yourneck. With the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of familiar white hairand black clothes, the warm palm forced on your face big enough to belong tothe man you knew was hurting you. When you started to complain, to struggleagainst his hold, he dragged you closer to his body and the painful sensationfrom before resurfaced, clawing up on your tongue, in your gums, a scream dyingin your throat.

“Don’t fight it.” His voice was too composed andtoo calm for this situation, his hands keeping you glued against him as hestood up fully from his hunched-over position. Your feet weren’t on the groundanymore, and the sudden realization made you kick and struggle with renewed animosity.His fingers gripped your jaw with more strength, preventing it to move and ensuringyou won’t scream as you felt something seep through the gaps between yourteeth, excruciating pain occupying your mind until you couldn’t even move.

“I told you,” his tone was still that of anauthority figure, reprimanding you for a minor inconvenience, as you went limpin his arms, a metallic taste wetting your tongue. Your felt like you couldn’tbreathe, as if you were about to choke and black out, slip out from this world –and maybe that would have been the best option for you. With the littlestrength you still had, you realized the man was now moving down the stairs,stopping at the floor below the one you were in, walking down the empty hall withunnerving calm. You tried to resist again, but it was such a weak attempt that hedidn’t even bother to stop you; from behind his hand, you whimpered, and soonhis gloom voice reached your ears in an attempt to soothe you, “I’ll kiss awaythe pain, doll. Just be good.”

You sobbed and thrashed in his hold, your bodytoo frail to really do much and accomplish anything worthwhile. Yet, youassumed he wanted you to really behave, and he wouldn’t tolerate any type of defiancefrom you. The hand around your jaw moved quickly, slamming your mouth shut andsomething that felt like needles pierced your gums, renewing the previous painand making you let out a faint wheeze. After a moment of tension in your entirebody, your body and mind decided to give into the agony and the abrupt sensationof fainting. You heard the distant words of the man as your hands went to holdthe arm around your body in order to support yourself better, “Good, be good.”

You passed out as soon as you saw him open adoor, releasing your jaw.

[wallstagram]

june - july fic rec: month(s) in review

hello & welcome back to the june - july edition of fic rec: month(s) in review! we have a L O T to unpack this time, so let’s dive right in! throughout june & july, we have been blessed with the majority of @larryabroad, as well as the bulk of @hlsummerexchange2019, all of @wordplayfics, wanker’s day fic fest, and many more that i’m probably forgetting. summer was a great time to be a fic reader for sure, thank you to every author who contributed!! 

**disclaimer: not all of these fics were written in june/july, it is simply when i read them. however, a lot of them were. ***note: as always, if you do take my recommendation and read any of these works, please bookmark, comment, and leave kudos for these authors!! it is so important that we support the creators in our community. as an author, i know a sweet comment will often spur me to keep writing when i’m stuck. but, without further ado, here’s my recs below the cut!

J U N E : :

You Were Made To Be Mine by lovelarry10 (@chloehl10)

Louis Tomlinson takes his 6 year old son Jacob to see Harry Styles in concert. Jacob has been a huge fan of Harry's for as long as he can remember, so it's a dream come true when Harry notices him in the pit. But Jacob isn't all that Harry has his eye on...

Louis is a bit embarrassed when Harry picks on him from the stage, but when he's invited backstage after the show, he wonders what Harry Styles could possibly want with a single dad and his kid from Manchester...

This was such a cute read! At a whopping 580k, there is a LOT to sink your teeth into. Though I started it at the beginning of June, I haven’t even nearly finished yet, but it’s so good that it’s made it onto my rec list!

Get Off and Vote by haztobegood (@haztobegood)

Niall lets out a loud laugh, “Hey, listen to this. You know how elections are Tuesday? It says the Babeland on the edge of campus is giving out free toys to the first 100 people that show their ‘I Voted’ sticker.”

“How patriotic.” Louis laughs. “Maybe I should go.”

Haha! This one was great. At 3k, it’s a perfect quick read for some sexy, patriotic fun. 

Surprise Me, Space Boy by jacaranda_bloom (@jacaranda-bloom)

Louis is a solo officer on Space Station Zeta and the isolation can present many challenges, not least of which is that it’s really bloody hard to date. He’s pinning his hopes on that changing with a fellow solo officer, Harry, from a neigbouring station who gives great banter and has a gorgeous smile. Maybe online dating has its benefits after all?

OR The Space Wank Fic.

Oh, this one was so good!!! The thing I love about literally anything Dee writes is that she just thinks completely outside the box. I feel like I never quite know what’s going to happen (in the best way!) and her originality totally made this fic amazing. (7k)

rivers ‘til i reach you by embodied (@crossnecklace)

Louis can’t begin to understand how he’s always this close and still can’t manage to make Harry his. He stands up and gets another beer. AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

This was such a good read! It’s written in such a way that you’re utterly sucked into the verse so much that you’re a bit sappy when the fic is over. Kinda makes you feel a bit lovedrunk just from reading it. (29k)

Found My Hallelujah by crimsontheory (@ireallysawanangel)

As an engagement gift from his parents, Harry and his fiance receive an all expenses paid cruise trip for two. But one week before they're set to sail, Harry walks in on his fiance cheating on him. Newly single, with the cruise tickets in hand, and his bags already packed, Harry brings along his sister instead. And maybe the cute bartender on the ship might just be the person Harry needs to help him put back together all of his broken pieces.

I have so much to say about this one! I had the absolute honor of beta’ing this 35k work (which im pretty sure i just cheerlead you bc nicole you know grammar isn’t my strong suit...lmfao) and honestly it has become a fic that i love so much! nicole is such a talented writer; everything she writes just brings out so much emotion from her audience, and she has such a great sense of characterization! if you liked this one, check out its sequel, Now I’m Moving Up because it’s great too!!!!

J U L Y : :

Whisk me off my feet by allwaswell16 (@allwaswell16)

When Louis locks himself out of his apartment in just a pair of novelty underwear, he hopes his new neighbor can come to his rescue.

Haha! This one was so cute! What a darling fic! (5k)

The Charles Compass Trilogy by SadaVeniren (@sadaveniren)

Louis Tomlinson is a successful writer who rents a beach house on the Cape to try and finish the final book in his successful Charles Compass trilogy.

So I’m convinced that any rec list I make will not be complete if Sada isn’t on it. Here’s the thing - I fell in love with this story before she was revealed as the author, and honestly I had no clue. She’s got this amazing way of being able to change her style to fit the kind of story she’s trying to tell. This is such a good look at the writing process, highly recommend! (9k)

From The Heart series by jacaranda_bloom (@jacaranda-bloom)

Every Tuesday, Louis spends his day off holed up in his favorite coffee-come-bookshop, writing his little stories as part of the WordPlay challenge while daydreaming about the resident barista, Harry. Each week a new word prompt is revealed and Louis adds to his series of short stories about Henry, the owner of a B&B in the Cotswolds who has curly hair and dimples, Lewis, his long term guest who just happens to be a writer, and Tigger, Henry’s cat.

As Louis and Harry’s friendship develops, could his fantasy world spill out into real life? And how does that reader who leaves the lovely comments with the teacup emoji seem to be able to read Louis’ mind?

Okay, Dee really killed the game this time. Because I was OBSESSED. I mean honestly checking my phone at work to see what the newest installment was. This series is so fulfilling and so so hot to think about as an author! (25k)

blue eyes, black jeans, lighters, candy by delsicle (@emperorstyles)

Harry is in Madrid and Louis had a hard week.

So, the whole dom on tour series is really good, but this is my favorite work of the two. I love basically anything Delaney writes but this was extremely hot! (4k)

Could you love me anyway by SadaVeniren (@sadaveniren)

Dear Mistress Lorin: I’ve been reading your blog for a couple weeks now and was hoping you’d give me some advice for something that happened with me and my boyfriend. I’m really worried that I hurt him.

aka Harry and Louis begin playing ping pong during the X-Factor Tour. It quickly gets out of hand.

Okay. If you know me at all, you know that the way to my heart is either spanking, kink negotiation, or both. This just delivers on it all, and it catches on some main parts of BDSM-for-newbies and kink-gone-wrong that people often pretend never happens. I could gush so much about this, but go ahead and just read it yourself because it’s too good to miss!! (13k)

you are half of me (and I am all for you) by angelichl (@angelichl)

One Direction, an obscure indie rock band, is about to embark on their first cross-country tour, living out of Louis' beloved van named Patricia.

Harry is in love, and Louis is oblivious. Or is he?

Featuring skinny-dipping in Texas waterfalls, getting lost in the desert, stargazing under the New Mexico sky, performing in front of crowds that grow in size each night, and falling in love on the road during the greatest summer of their lives.

Okay WOW. I have so much to say about this one!!! So first off, the biggest thank you to adri for writing this fic for me for HL Summer Exchange!!! Honestly I feel like you spied through all my hopes and dreams and loves (including parenthesis in fic titles??? love it) and squished it all into this fic. it’s just the best fic, and it feels like warm summer air and tracing constellations in the stars and falling in love. if you haven’t read this already, please do!!!! It was so good I teared up when I first read it! (25k)

Heading for Limbo by kingsofeverything (fullonlarrie) (@kingsofeverything)

Childhood best friends who’ve fallen in and out of touch with each other since Louis’ family moved away when they were thirteen, Harry and Louis find their paths crossing again and again. Each time, no matter how many miles apart or how many years it’s been, it’s as if no time has passed. They fall back into their easy friendship, until life intervenes and sends them on their separate ways once more.

When Harry discovers some life-changing things about himself, Louis is there for him, however he needs. But it’s all temporary because Louis has plans that will move his life from New York all the way to L.A. and the distance isn’t the only thing between them.

The pieces of their twice broken hearts are scattered from the Atlantic to the Pacific.

Okay. Okay. This fic literally is one I will remember for the rest of my life, and i’m not even being dramatic about it! So, I really do enjoy leaving authors detailed comments about their fics, but that just wasn’t enough... I really had to message Lauren this whole essay about how Heading for Limbo helped me deal with a lot of emotions I was feeling in my own personal life, and it helped me fully realize that i’m bisexual. (did i just come out?? yikes) it was nice to see a fic where things weren’t perfect over a long stretch of time. It was amazing to see Harry realize his sexuality later in life, because that was one of my main struggles. this fic is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. Literally, Lauren, thanks for changing my whole life!!! (101k)

Tell Me This Is Paradise by QuickedWeen (@becomeawendybird)

Harry Styles has been lucky in love but unlucky in the bedroom with all of her previous boyfriends. When her best friend Niall finds out that she's never had an orgasm, she knows just what Harry needs: Louis Tomlinson. Niall sets Harry up to get sorted out.

Okay, if you’re new around here, this fic was also on one of my previous rec lists, but then Molly had to ruin my life and write another chapter of it. Jesus Christ!!!! I literally could read this fic every single day and die happily. It’s so hot, and the characterization is so good. So, I guess this rec is specifically for chaper 2, but you’ve gotta read chapter 1 also! For the betterment of your life, of course. (9k)

Abstract by Star55 (@star55)

After Zayn draws a naked Harry for her art class, she finds that she can't stop drawing Harry and Louis' naked bodies, usually engaged in some form of sexual activity.

Literally - this was hot as balls. Loved it! (8k)

alright guys, that’s it! if you read all the way to the bottom, you deserve a sticker. i hope you guys enjoy some of my favorite fics i’ve read! don’t forget to go bookmark, comment, and give kudos! and just remember: we are all human. if you read a work, and loved it, and didn’t comment, it’s never too late! give your author some loooooooove. my life has been super busy and i really haven’t been in the place to leave the thought-out comments i like to, so most of these authors can expect comments from me soon. thank you to all the authors listed above, have a nice day everyone! also, feel free to send your favorite fics into my ask - maybe they’ll end up on my next list!!!

[misssunflowersandsangria]

Painted in Green

Sai smiled hearing Ino’s bell-like laugh.  He’d requested a few weeks ago to paint in the flower shop and she’d been more than willing to accommodate him.  As repayment and a way to spend more time with her, he offered to help her with the store. Ino was as kind and beautiful as he’d always known.  Spending time with her amongst the symphony of flowers filled him with a level of peace and joy that he hadn't experienced in so long. Just being with her felt like a soothing balm over his battered soul.  She helped him work through the darkness that felt ever-present in his heart. She taught him to smile genuinely, to laugh and to enjoy life without fear.  

He made his way towards the front where she was helping a familiar customer.  Ryu... something, had been frequenting the Yamanaka Flower Shop almost daily and each time spent most of his visits chatting up the blonde.  It was obvious that he had some feelings towards the shop owner and all Sai could do was try to grin and bear it.   

“Ryu.”

“Sai.”  He regarded him before returning to his conversation with Ino.   Sai gripped onto the watering can in his hands tightly. This emotion was bothersome and he felt his heart tightening in his chest every time she smiled and laughed at the other man’s direction.  Jealousy was such an ugly emotion but there was little that he could do about it. His books hadn’t given him any useful information for dealing with these feelings. It mostly said that he should confront the man in some sort of show of masculinity until one of them backed down.  Another recommendation was that he create a situation where she became jealous but the idea of putting her through that kind of emotional turmoil felt wrong. With little options, all he could do was sit in these feelings and try to ignore the creeping fear that he was losing her, if he ever had her to begin with. 

He tried to busy himself and ignore their conversation by watering the plants and walking back and forth from the back to the storefront.  He felt like a caged animal being there. He didn’t want to leave her alone with him but at the same time, he didn’t just want to stand there like an awkward observer.  Once Ryu left after buying a massive bouquet that he was apparently giving his mother Sai felt like he could breathe again, her attention once again on him.  

“Sai thanks again for your help!  You really don’t have to.” She smiled brightly at him.  He knew that he’d do anything to keep that smile on her face.  

“I enjoy it.”  He assured her with a soft smile.

“Thank you, I appreciate your company.”

“I enjoy yours as well Ino.”

“Dinner?”  It was a usual part of their routine after closing up the shop.  

“I’d love some.”

 After closing up they made their way into the village and fell into their companionable conversation over a relaxing meal.  Sai couldn’t help but feel happy in her presence. She was so bright and vibrant. She was smart and interesting and so much of him wished that they could cross that line between friends and something more.  He wasn’t sure just how to define their relationship. Moments like this felt like they were something more than just friends. But his insecurities and fears always appeared convincing himself that he didn’t deserve her.  Ino could have anyone that she wished. Why would she pick him? He’d never want to darken her light and so he was content to live in this limbo. At the very least he could stand by as an enchanted observer as she glowed and shined for the world.  He would happily hold onto any light that she granted him and never ask for anything more.

“Thanks for dinner Sai.”  He walked her home and they stood at her doorway before parting.  It would be terribly romantic if he wasn’t so insecure and unsure about this gorgeous creature in front of him.  

“Of course.”

“I won’t be at the shop tomorrow, I can ask someone to come in to cover if you’d like.  Kakashi has some work for me but I’ll see you after?” She asked hopefully.  

“That’s fine.  I’ll take care of the store.” He liked the idea that he could help her. 

“Thank you, Sai you’re the best!” She told him gratefully wrapping him in a hug. He was always sweet and willing to help her at a moment’s notice.  

He settled his face against her hair the familiar scent of roses wrapping around him. “Anytime Beautiful.” 

Sai looked up hearing the bell ring announcing a customer. It had been a pretty quiet day at the shop and he missed having her around.  Still, he was happy that he could be trusted with watching over it. He knew how much it meant to her and the Yamanaka clan.

He frowned seeing the familiar customer. 

“Where’s Ino?” Ryu asked with little regard towards the man in front of him. 

“She’s working at the Hokage's office today.” 

Ryu nodded. “Actually, this is a good thing.  I'm going to ask Ino to go out with me.” Sai just stood there with a blank expression.  He did appreciate the man being upfront with him. 

“Aren’t you going to tell me off?  Go on some sort of tirade about how she belongs to you or something?”  Ryu asked surprised by Sai’s quiet acceptance. 

Sai shook his head.  “Ino belongs to no one.  She is her own person, as independent and as free as a field of wildflowers in bloom.  I only ever wished to be part of her world.”

“So what?  Do you think I’m just going to believe that you’ll bow out quietly if she decides she wants to be with me?  It’s pretty damn obvious that you love her.”

“As someone who’s had very little choices in life, I would never do that to her.  It will be her decision who she would like to be with. I will not influence it in any way.  If she chooses you then I will not stand in your way.” The idea that she could choose Ryu over him broke his heart, but as long as it was her decision at the end of the day he’d support her. 

Ryu stood there surprised his opinion of the quiet man improving.  

“Alright, the choice is hers then.” 

That night Ino came to the flower shop before it closed. She smiled thinking about Sai and was thankful for him being there. She was happy that their relationship had progressed so far and she saw him as one of her closest friends, possibly something more. 

“Sai! I’m back! Thanks again, where should we go for dinner tonight?” She looked up surprised to see that the dark-haired man wasn’t alone. 

“Oh, hi Ryu.”

“Hello, Ino.”  He replied with a smile.  Ryu had been frequenting the shop a lot more recently.  He was handsome and interesting to talk to.  

Sai came over to where she was standing pulling her attention back.  “Things went well today. If it’s alright with you I’ll be going.” She was surprised by how quickly he seemed to want to leave but nodded disappointed.  

“Okay, I'll see you later.”  Once shutting the door behind him she turned her attention to the man remaining in the store. 

“Let’s talk for a little Ino.”

 Ino found him atop a hill overlooking the village.  He’d shared with her that he often went there to paint and when daily life became all too much.  He was staring out at the village the lights below them looking like a reflection of the stars in the sky. 

“Sai?  Why didn’t you fight for me?  Why didn’t you say anything to him?”  She couldn’t help but feel hurt and frustrated that he hadn’t tried to intervene to stop Ryu from asking her out.  Was she mistaken in assuming that they had shared feelings between them? She wasn’t entirely surprised when Ryu asked her on a date.  His constant visits and purchases clued her into that fact. What surprised her though was that Sai had not tried to stop his pursuit of her.  She knew that Sai wasn’t very socially or emotionally adept but surely the other man’s attention towards her had to bother him even a little. Wasn’t some male showdown, and arguing over her the way that you showed affection?  

Sai took a deep breath turning to take her hands in his.  Her sky blue eyes that he’d grown to love so much looked hurt and confused.  “He is fully aware of my feelings towards you. But I would never make you feel that you have some sort of obligation to me.  I have little to offer you Ino, you are my Sun and I’m stuck here on Earth. He could give you the world in an instant, all I have are the shattered pieces of my heart. You deserve so much more, you deserve everything.  It was your choice to make, to decide who or what would make you happy. I’d never stand in the way or put myself ahead of your joy."  

Ino stood there stunned.  By allowing her to make this decision herself, by not “fighting” over her he showed her just how much he cared about her.  He respected her ability and intelligence enough to let her decide. He stood to the side almost breaking his own heart just to give her the freedom to make her own choices.    

“Sai, oh Sai.”  She gathered him into her arms hoping that she could piece together the broken pieces within him.  Ino felt her heartbreak for him. He had been through so much in such a short lifetime, if she could give him even a little bit of happiness and comfort she would.   “I want you. I could never choose to be with anyone else. You’re the one that my heart wants. You are kind, talented, and so strong. Please tell me that you love me too?”

Sai pulled her in tightly against his chest in disbelief that she had picked him, that somehow she loved him.  “Oh Ino, my sweet Light, of course, I do. I love you so much, more than I could ever fully explain or grasp. You saved me far many more times and in ways that I could never truly repay you for.”

She kissed him and it was beyond anything that she could have ever dreamed of.  His arms were wrapped tightly around her and she could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest.    

He layered kisses along the crown of her head as she smiled against his chest.  “Can you tell me again?” He requested needing to hear those sweet words knowing that he'd never tire of them. 

Her bright blue eyes met his inky ones so full of love, for him.  “I love you Sai, I love you so much.”  He felt his face break into a large smile those words piercing the darkness within him. 

“I love you too Beautiful.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589114

[enbyleighlines]

I'd love to see interactions between Wen Qing and Nie Huaisang in your modern au, with or without Jiang Cheng being present. Just curious about how the poly dynamics settle.

Ooooh, yes! This is a great prompt! Thank you so much for the suggestion, anonymous~

—

Nie Huaisang stands at the foot of a cement staircase. They lead to a rather ornate door, which is far fancier than the apartment building it’s attached to.

This is Nie Huaisang’s first time in this part of town. They double-check the address on the mailbox to the one they’ve scribbled down on a piece of scrap paper. The numbers match. Nie Huaisang has successfully found Wen Qing’s place of residence.

Nie Huaisang does not feel particularly accomplished. The dominant emotion in their chest at the moment is panic. Their anxiety keeps them rooted in place, as though their black flats are somehow glued to the sidewalk. This frozen state is so strong that it prevents Nie Huaisang from acting on their impulse to flee the scene.

There isn’t any rational reason to be afraid. Or so Nie Huaisang tells themself.

Wen Qing invited them here. Wen Qing is a rational woman. Wen Qing sounded perfectly reasonable when she talked to them on the phone. Hence, it is very unlikely that she will attempt to stab Nie Huaisang to death with a kitchen knife.

But they are dating the same man, and jealousy can do weird things to the human brain. Nie Huaisang knows that all too well. Though their friendship with Wei Wuxian is entirely platonic, Nie Huaisang has been a repeat target of Lan Wangji’s icy stare of death. It just goes to show that love is irrational.

So Nie Huaisang is stuck in limbo. They said they would come, so backing out now might only add fuel to the fire of Wen Qing’s anger. But it’s hard to climb stairs when one is chilled to the bone with fear.

It’s an unpleasant state of being. Nie Huaisang considers the possibility of being stuck there forever.

Then the ornate door opens.

Wen Qing stands in the threshold, one hand on her hip. She’s in casual wear— sweatpants on the bottom, and a simple tank and flannel cardigan combo on top. Her hair is in a lop-sided bun, too. It’s the kind of outfit that says, ‘I’m determined to enjoy the hell out of my day off.’

Nie Huaisang can respect that.

“Are you going to come in?” Wen Qing asks with a quirked brow, “I’m brewing some coffee, if that helps.”

“Coming!” Nie Huaisang says.

—

Besides the coffee brewer, the kitchen is eerily silent. Nie Huaisang sits at the small table at the window. It has a nice view of the street outside, and the park down the block, if one cranes their head enough to look for it.

The kitchen itself is small and cluttered, but there’s obviously a method to the madness. Any papers and books are stacked neatly, and the knick-knacks are evenly spaced throughout the room. It’s the kind of space that would look far more organized if only the room were larger.

Wen Qing leans against the counter. She is watching the coffee drip, as the carafe slowly fills.

It is just as awkward as Nie Huaisang feared it would be.

Then Wen Qing says, “I suppose I should preface this with the fact that, as hard as it is to believe, I’m not a jealous person. I’ve never been much interested in commitment when it comes to dating. I prefer keeping things casual.”

Nie Huaisang blinks at her.

“Obviously, that didn’t happen with Jiang Cheng,” Wen Qing continues, “I didn’t mean to catch feelings, but here we are. So that’s what I’m struggling with.”

Nie Huaisang thinks about that. But, to be honest, they don’t quite understand. “You... don’t want to love him?”

The word ‘love’ has a strange effect on Wen Qing. She unexpectedly reverts from a confident young woman to a self-conscious schoolgirl in her body language. “Oh,” she says, fiddling with a loose strand of hair, “I... we haven’t been calling it love. Not yet.”

Now that’s also perplexing. Nie Huaisang has never understood the tendency for some people to tiptoe around the L word.

“But that’s neither here nor there,” Wen Qing speaks up, after gathering her composure, “I asked you to come over because I want to make a selfish request, and it has to be done face to face.”

“What selfish request?” Nie Huaisang asks. This conversation is not going the way they had anticipated at all, and now curiosity is replacing fear.

Wen Qing sighs. It’s appropriately dramatic, and Nie Huaisang approves.

“Originally,” Wen Qing admits reluctantly, “I had intended to step aside, as soon as it became apparent that the two of you were compatible.”

Nie Huaisang can’t help it; they gasp.

“I thought it would be best,” Wen Qing explains, “Jiang Cheng cares about me, but our relationship needs are very different. I need time to be alone, to be able to think and focus on my work. Jiang Cheng wants someone to dote on; he likes to feel needed. He will swear up and down that he’s fine with our relationship being casual, but I think he’s just too stubborn to admit we’re not as compatible as he’d like to believe.”

Nie Huaisang listens attentively. A flurry of emotions beats against their chest. It’s hard to identify them individually. “So,” they say, “you intend to... break up with him?”

“That’s where the selfish part comes into play.” Wen Qing rubs the back of her neck, grumbling incoherently to herself for a moment. “I hate to say this,” she tells them, “but I don’t think I can bear breaking up with him. Like I said before, I didn’t intend to catch feelings. But I did. And maybe the rational response is to nip this in the bud now, but... I also want to see if we can make it work, despite the odds.”

“Ahh.” Nie Huaisang is not stupid, although they like to pretend. They can see where this is going. “You want to try out a poly relationship.”

Wen Qing nods.

“I’m just confused about one thing,” Nie Huaisang says, “I... I just kind of assumed that’s what we were already doing?”

Wen Qing snorts. “Ah, well, unofficially.... yes. But Jiang Cheng and I still call ourselves casual, and you’ve only been dating him a couple of weeks. So it’s not like either of us have been going steady — as the kids would say — with him.”

That earns a giggle from Nie Huaisang. “That’s true,” they admit.

“I think you two are a great match,” Wen Qing says, seemingly out of nowhere, “I’ve seen the way Jiang Cheng lights up when he talks about you. You’re... well, don’t take this personally, but you’re kind of high maintenance.”

Nie Huaisang is not offended. They laugh and mime fanning themself like a Southern belle. “That’s fair.”

“Like I said earlier, Jiang Cheng likes to feel needed. You make him feel needed.”

“Mm.” Nie Huaisang nods thoughtfully. “You know, I’ve also noticed that. Jiang Cheng grumbles and gripes whenever someone asks him for a favor, but it puts a little extra spring in his step. And he absolutely blows his top if I ask someone else for a favor instead of him.”

Wen Qing smiles warmly. There’s affection lighting up her eyes as she says, “He’s the same way with me. If I go too long without asking him for a favor, he just starts offering to do things for me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nie Huaisang murmurs. Like cooking popcorn, wicked, wonderful ideas are suddenly bounding around inside their brain.

The coffee machine makes a horrid gurgling sound as it finishes its long and arduous process of filling the carafe. Wen Qing busies herself with preparing them both a mug. She also puts out cream and sugar on the table, though she makes no move to put either in her own cup.

Nie Huaisang, in contrast, is very generous in adding cream and sugar to their coffee.

“So,” Wen Qing says, “Are you okay with trying out a poly relationship? Of course, we’ll have to iron out all the details with Jiang Cheng present. But first, I wanted to make sure that it’s something that you’d be open to.”

Nie Huaisang doesn’t have to think about it. “Of course,” they answer, “On one condition.”

“Oh?”

Here, Nie Huaisang allows themself to be a little mischievous. “Poly relationships rely on complete honesty from all parties, right?”

“Yes?”

Nie Huaisang nods sagely. They channel every villain role they’ve ever wanted to play as they say, “Then, in that case, you need to be honest about your feelings for Jiang Cheng, in front of Jiang Cheng.”

Wen Qing stares at him blankly. Then, realization starts to creep in.

“You have to use the L word.”

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Non disclosure agreements pt.2

Summary: Shawn is desperate to talk to Y/N and fix things.

Warnings: mostly angst, some fluff

Word count: ~ 2.3k

Part 1

I moved my fingers around an almost empty bowl, grabbing a few popcorn and popped them in my mouth.

“This is a future memory.” Stefan begins the same line Shawn used and I frown, glaring at the television as if it’s the source of all evil.

“BOOO!” I couldn’t hold myself back, throwing the rest of my popcorn at the screen in frustration.

A weekend inside with The Vampire Diaries while the outside turned into winter wonderland was not ideal, but I needed it.

Shawn liked snow. He adored every damn snowflake, but I hated it. It was cold and wet, slippery and a hazard for clumsy people like me. Although Shawn fell on daily bases once ice rolled into town, he still enjoyed the weather...despite my Bambi jokes.

Shawn...

I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t on my mind all the time. I couldn’t sleep, finding him in my dreams every time I close my eyes. Watching his favorite TV show only to point out every time he used their lines on me wasn’t helping the situation and yet, I found it therapeutic. Not the words, but me boo-ing each line. Food? Well, I couldn’t get enough of food.

I scroll through my Twitter and Instagram, finding he didn’t post anything new since our break up.

Was he suffering too?

Good.

I know it’s childish and silly, but I wanted him to be hurt as I am. I was stuck in limbo, half of me loving him and the other one hating him. The part who clung to him had turned desperate and hateful toward the one who resented that NDA he presented me with. The hateful part...well, it simply despised him in every way.

I never thought he’d be the one to break my heart.

His sexiest quality by far is emotional warmth, nothing else comes close. Yet, I find myself freezing since the moment he pulled out those papers.

That sane part of me understood him, empathized with him. People always come and go in his life, all of them in search of something he could give them. Once they receive it, they disappear and take a part of him with them.

Shawn is the type to give his all to anyone he meets and regardless how difficult it is, he never showed to be disappointed when they leave. I guess it finally took its toll on him and I had to pay the price.

A soft knock on my door brings me out of this particular thought and I stand up, wrapping myself into a blanket. Trudging my way to the door, I quickly rub my eyes to make myself seem happier.

Forgetting to check who’s on the other side, I open the door and gasp unintentionally.

“Hear me out, okay?” Shawn stands with his palms pressed together, pleading. His eyes are tired, dark circles surrounding them. His usually styled curls are a mess, sticking out in different directions, unruly and wild like they turned only behind closed bedroom doors.

“Think I made myself clear.” With a heavy heart, I push the door closed. But Shawn had a different idea.

Shawn’s quick to push his way in, despite my attempt to keep him out.

I narrow my eyes at him, crossing my arms over my chest. I stay rooted to the spot, a breeze from the hallway moving my hair softly away from my face. Shawn keeps his eyes steady, remaining on my face as if they’re finally home again, just briefly before the sorrow in them starts to build up.

“Remember how happy we were! I’m begging you!” His voice is laced in desperation and it pricks at my heart like thorns of a red rose, a flower he frequently gifted me with.

I bite my lower lip, sucking on the soft flesh nervously, looking anywhere but at him with uncertainty. Should I let him speak, my resolve might waver. Should he break my resolve, it will chip away a piece of who I am and it will be lost to me forever. My features buckle just slightly before I speak, the only betrayal of my grief. 

“I think you should leave, Shawn.” I try and push back at all those happy memories we’ve made so far, finding they’re agonizing now.

“Hey! This is going to sound really stupid, but I saw you from across the street and I really wanted to kiss you. What do you say, eh?” Starting with the first words he ever spoke to me.

I recognized him instantly, thinking it was a prank of some sorts. Yet, I didn’t complain when he pressed his lips against mine and took the very breath from my lungs.

For a guy who claimed he has no game, he certainly proved otherwise that day.

“Now that we’re acquainted, what do you say about having a cup of coffee with me?” And he was smooth, charming...a perfect combination of sexy and fluff and I couldn’t resist him.

“Is this where we say goodbye? The end of the road?” He steps closer, looking down on me just like he did the first time we met. Just like he did every damn day after that; softly, gently, longingly. It’s the kind of a look that makes you sure love is visible, tangible and real.

“God, the way you look at me. Stop looking at me like that.” I speak through gritted teeth, running a hand through my hair as my emotions run wild.

I want to kiss him and slap him at the same time. I want to run my fingers through his hair and pull at it, caress him and push him away...I’m a walking contradiction when he’s in question and it’s driving me insane. Absolutely insane.

Shawn chuckles and I know he’s got a bad habit of laughing at the worst possible time. He shakes his head to wipe that adorable smile from his face, knowing I might be insulted by the gesture, but I’m not. I know he meant nothing malicious by that burst of energy he couldn’t contain. I know his anxiety is at an all time high right now and I can’t hold it against him.

“I’ll always look at you like you’re the only one for me. Because you are.” Shawn takes a step closer, reaching toward me with his hands.

I follow them closely, closing my eyes once they make contact with my hips and the hold he has on me tightens.

“If I give you a chance to explain why you want that NDA right now, will you please be honest with me?” The words leaving my lips make no sense, but my mouth seems to be faster than my brain right now. He’s in my head and I keep on forgetting he’s taken over my heart and he’s at the very seams of my being. He became a vital, out of body organ I needed to function. I know it’s wrong, but everything changed when we met. He became the blood that runs through my veins, but I’d survive without him either way. I’d move on, however, he’d always be somewhere inside, forever stuck with me.

Being infected by Shawn Mendes is an incurable disease and I know all I can do is manage the symptoms as they come along.

“I never lied to you.” Shawn says quietly, leaning down to rest his lips on my forehead. They’re warm,...far too warm for someone who just came in from a blizzard. And that’s when I know...He’s been standing in front of my door for God knows how long in hopes of talking things through and I feel my heart soften ever so slightly.

“So talk to me. Shawn, why?” I press the palms of my hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat is fast, but in perfect rhythm with my own.

“Because I got hurt. Hailey, she...kind of betrayed my trust while I swore up and down she’d never do that. And the worst part is, she worked with the studio for that. By the time I was included, I had already invested time and feelings and it all went to waste. It’s why I kept us a secret for so long.” Shawn sighs against my skin, moving back to look at my face properly.

I couldn’t look him in the eye, staring at his perfectly plump lips instead as he spoke.

“I was scared they’d ask the same of you. And I know! I know you’re not her, but there’s this quiet voice in my mind that annoys the shit out of me. It questions me and it questions my ability to know who to trust and I know in my heart I can trust you. I do.” Shawn keeps rambling, most of it becoming unrecognizable as his thoughts come out jumbled and I know his anxiety is getting to him. I know he needs emotional stability and yet, I need to put my foot down. Should I let this slide every time he feels any anxiety, I’d sacrifice my own needs for him all the time and instead of a loving relationship, we’d turn toxic.

I press my index finger against his lips, finally looking up at his eyes.

“That’s irrational and you know it.”

Then he turns to go, shoulders sunken and his hands in his pockets. Before I know what I'm doing I'm standing in his way and we lock eyes, the perfect distance for a kiss, but he shakes his head. I can see my pain mirrored in his dark eyes. 

“Shawn...You said you think I’m the only one for you. If that’s the case, is that NDA seriously more important than I am? Are you willing to let your fears hold you back from having happiness in your life? Will you let the label tell you who to date or will you make your own rules? Because that’s the Shawn I know and love.”

Shawn averts his eyes to the floor, looking at the fluffy black carpet he surprised me with on my birthday. He knew I loved anything soft that resembled  animal fur without it actually being fur and he got this as a present. I loved him for it. I still love him for it.

“Shawn?” He always said he'd persuade his label when the time came that we weren’t a threat to his career. I guess they won after all.

He looks back up at me, following the sound of my voice on instinct. He always said he’d know my whisper in a screaming crowd.

We have a silent conversation as we stared into each others eyes. I finally look away, tears threatening to blur my vision, when a hand encircles mine. It’s soft and warm, reassuring almost, as If the owner of that hand sensed my desperation. 

“You’re more important. I don’t really care for the NDA, I swear. I would place my life in your hands and trust you to keep it safe, let alone anything else. I was just angry that you didn’t even entertain the idea of signing. Like it was ridiculous. It felt like you didn’t understand me or the pressure they applied for a month until I caved to bring it before you.” He sighs and I blink fast, a tear slipping past my defenses.

He did fight for me.

He did.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Shawn? I wasn’t upset about the contract itself, but by the thought of you just letting them dictate our lives without a fight.” My bottom lip quivers and I notice his do the same as he looks up in exasperation.

“It’s not easy telling your girl you failed in something. Unfortunately, they wore me down and I really didn’t think you’d mind. I thought you’d laugh it off and sign it, throw it on some shelf to collect dust while we live our lives together.” Shawn admits, making eye contact once more.

I place a hand on either side of his face and observe him cautiously.

“You fought for me.” I pause, silently staring into my favorite whiskey colored eyes with adoration I’ve always had for him.

“It’s all I needed to know.” I smile, running my thumb across his cheek slowly.

“Of course. It always comes down to love of a girl and for me that was your love.” His lips turn up into a tiny smile, as he holds me tightly to his chest.

“That was a Damon line!” I exclaim, slapping his chest playfully.

“Founder’s party in season one, I think.” Shawn squints in an attempt to remember and I shake my head slightly.

“Sounds about right.” I add, confirming his thoughts since I basically watched the entire season yesterday.

“You’re not signing that contract.” Shawn leans down, kissing the top of my nose and I crinkle it in response.

“I’m grateful that you’re saying that now...but I’m gonna sign it.” I state, using the fact that his face is so close to me to leave a quick peck on his cheek.

“No, you’re not.” Shawn frowns, moving away from my face and I take in a deep breath.

“Are we going to fight about me wanting to sign it now? Because I’ll sign it to get them off your back. I don’t want you having anxiety over this anymore. You proved you love me, trust me...it’s enough for me. And I love you for it.” I whisper the last bit, capturing his lips into a kiss that feels just right.

“But tomorrow.” I break the kiss to look at him properly, my fingers wandering around the curls at the back of his head.

“I want to spend some quality naked time with my boyfriend tonight.” I smile cheekily and he grunts, connecting our lips hungrily once more.

Tags: @accalialionheart @xalayx @ourlittleshawnie @esoltis280

[priiiiiiiii999-blog]

DATE & TIME: july 29th, 2:30 pm LOCATION: the residence of martina iwobi STATUS: closed

“Martina, tesora,” Priam purred, snaking a manicured hand through his companion’s. His eyes were sodden with mock concern, and his lips drawn into a dispassionate line. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Martina watched him unblinking over their boxy, glass table. Her typically liberated Afro had been drawn into a sleek bun, rendering her bangs useless in her current efforts at concealing her eyes from Priam. It was her eyes that made her so easy to read, as they were the first indicator of whatever emotion she’d been feeling.

Priam swirled his cup of now lukewarm coffee. He’d noticed that the sitting coffee had begun to form a brown ring inside of his mug, and put it down distastefully.

“I can make you a fresh cup if you’d like, amore mio,” Martina offered sweetly, but Priam could see the doubt forming in her expression.

Priam gave her hand a gentle squeeze, an appreciative grin emerging on his face. He leaned over the table, the symphony of dangling chains threatening to collide into his coffee mug, and placed a velvety kiss on her forehead.

“I’m fine. Thank you for always thinking of me, Ti Ti,” Priam said as he drew back into his chair, placing a ringed hand over their hands that were still intertwined.  “But right now, I have to think of you.” He exhaled shakily, now aware of Martina’s trembling hand.

“Martina, we can no longer be together.”

The trembling stopped. Neither of them moved, and for an extended moment, Priam was unsure of what exactly flashed across the woman’s face, before Martina shot up out of the chair, sending the coffee cop tumbling, a few drops finding his Balmain jeans, and he too shot out of his chair.

“Oh, Priam, I’m so—”

“Fuck the jeans. They’re not important,” Priam cut in. “I didn’t mean to drop that on you like that. But going forward, it’s too much of a risk. I’m transitioning job positions currently, and I need to be completely mobile, without any strings attached. And you, mi cara, are a string attached. You are a way for people to get to me. And I absolutely cannot allow that.”

“I couldn’t care less about whatever danger you could be in, mi tesoro. I’m tougher than you give me credit for. You haven’t even given me the opportunity to be.”

They found each other once again, this time, without the restrictions of a table, Martina cupping his face in her hand, and Priam drawing her into his arms. “This is not your battle to fight. The best thing you can do is stay out of it. Keep going as you are. Unaffected by Verona and unaffected by me.”

“Oh, Priam,” she responded scornfully. “You and Verona have shaped who I am as a person. To rid of the effects would mean destroying a piece of myself. I would never allow that.”

There was a momentary pause before the two burst into sardonic laughter. It was strange and unnerving, but they continued, clutching tightly at each other, before the laughter progressed into kisses, fierce and desperate ones. Their clothing was carelessly flung aside, the afternoon sun licking their skin, as Priam swirled his name into her skin for the last time (or had it been truly?) At least she’d have him with her temporarily, though the scratches and bite marks would eventually fade, she’d never forget the feeling Priam gave her.

———

“I know you love to think you’re unreadable, but I knew.”

He was sprawled out in the chair, not bothering to replace his clothing, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand, and a newspaper in the other. He peeked over the newspaper inquisitively, watching as the cigarette smoke swirled menacingly around her, her back pressed against the kitchen sink, a soft pink silken robe he’d gifted her tied loosely around her frame. “You know your cigarettes still fucking stink, and you don’t know the half of it.” 

“Priam, I don’t think you ever loved me. I think you wanted to love me as much as I loved you, but in all seriousness, I’m not sure if you possess the capacity to do so.”

He gripped the newspaper just a bit tighter. “You shouldn’t say that Martina, because that would make you a fool. To stay with me despite knowing I could never love you, and I detest fools,”  he muttered, eyes still glued to the page. “Looks like Roma and Milan tied again.”

“I think you’d like to believe I wasn’t somewhat of a fool, but only a fool would be with you for this long, Priam.”

He tilted his head to the side, signaling that he actually somewhat agreed with that statement. “Look at you, amore. I see you’re catching on. But I’d leave your opinion of me at that. Because if you were to somehow someday catch up?” He chuckled coldly. “I wouldn’t want that for you. Truly. Love or not. I know you’re seeking clarity, but nothing good would come from that knowledge.” He placed the cup down, before standing up and cupping her face. “Do you truly believe I never loved you? Look me in the eyes and say it.”

She’d been unable to look away, even as her lip started trembling, and Priam did her a favor by separating himself. “I just had to make sure. But I’m engaged now, Martina. And I’ve changed my mind. If it’s any consolation, I’d still like to see you. Just more privately. Shit— I need to shower. Gotta be at work soon. If you leave out before me, I’ll call you later. FYI, you were talking big shit about your new edge control, but I see you still haven’t found one I can’t fuck away.” He planted a kiss on her cheek and playfully smoothed down her hair, before downing the the cup of coffee and disappearing, leaving Martina standing there frozen, the ash from her cigarette stuck in limbo.

She’d always found it ironic how someone so overtaken by darkness could enjoy coffee so sweet. How someone with such sharp edges could emit such a softness from her. How she wanted nothing more than to burst into tears at times around him, but instead kept them inside, knowing he’d be there to kiss and drink them away, to lick them up. She’d foolishly assumed there’d been two sides of him. But Martina knew there’d been more sides than she’d been able to count, sides Priam himself hadn’t even become yet. And that terrified her. The never knowing. But it was also thrilling, thrilling enough that she knew this wouldn’t be the last she’d see of him. The intelligent thing to do would to be to run, but just as they’d both stated, she was foolish for the feeling he gave her. And in that moment, she’d been completely content with that.

[royalbluehues]

Redamancy

(Major Infinity War Spoilers!)

A/N: Here is the second part to Ineffable. To those of you who said I made the last one sad, I don’t think I made this one any sweeter. There are still spoilers, so, again, beware. It’s also my birthday tomorrow! Gonna be a legal adult!

Title: Redamancy, (Ineffable Part 2)

Author: royalbluehues

Warnings: Spoilers. Whatever you deem sad.

Pairings: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Part 1: Ineffable

“I will love you with the dust of who I was,

With the skin I am now,

and with the bones that will one day decorate my tomb.”

-Christopher Poindexter

Redamancy

(noun) the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

It was blissful. The sun shone down on you, keeping you warm from the breeze that had stirred you. The breeze that hit you smelled pleasant. Clean.

You breathed in deeply, your fingers twitching slightly under you.

What was under you? Grain? Sand?

Does it matter?

No, you supposed it didn’t; so you stayed put, enjoying not having to think. You haven’t felt as relaxed as you did in that movement.

After a while, your eyelids fluttered open, and the world was tilted. You were looking at the sea, the waves crashed rhythmically, the water the seeped forward touched the tips of your fingers, even coming as near as your nose. Your brows furrowed, and you slowly sat up, blinking as you watched the water droplets fall from the length of your hair.

Your body and hands left imprints in the wet sand, and you could taste the salt water on your lips. You moved on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows. When you pushed yourself upwards, you flinched for your abdomen was extremely sore.

The sky was dusky, and there were distant planets in the horizon, and the sun was partly eclipsed by a moon.

Around you was nothing but miles and miles of stretched out sea and sand. Hardly anything else.

“It’s much more suitable than Valhalla. At least I think so personally. The idea of old men in a hall for the rest of eternity has never peaked my fancy.”

You let out a startled gasp, and you twisted your torso to the sound of the voice. “Loki?”

He sat just a few feet away from you, with one leg tucked under him and the other bent upward. He was wearing a dark green tunic, with his black pants and his boots.

Then you remembered everything: You remembered his blood shot eyes and the discoloration around his skin. You remembered how blood had leaked from his nose, how glossy his eyes had been.

You remembered how he kissed the crown of your neck, how hot the room was, you remembered the bitter taste in your mouth, the mixture of emotions.

“But you’re dead?” It came out more as a question than a statement, the words even bringing a bit of nausea to you once more, “I saw you.”

He frowned, “I wish you hadn’t.”

“Where are we?” you asked, looking around you.

“We are in the limbo between life and death.” He replied airily, but he avoided making eye contact with you.

You stood, and your legs wobbled beneath you. He quickly stood, his arms ready to catch you. He held you to him, and the angle allowed you to view his neck. It was still purple. It appeared to be still bruised, with broken veins and splotches of red and blue.

You lifted a hand to hover the wound, and a frown pulled at your face. Your throat tightened, your tears watered, and your face puckered.

He brought his hand up to cup your cheek, “Don’t cry.”

The pads of his fingers rubbed your skin, brushing away the stray tears.

“Why did you do it?” You croaked, “You-I-” A sob escaped your mouth, and you stepped back to place your face into your hands. “I’m sorry,” you cried, “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop it- if I hadn’t had been held back I could have saved you- I could have done something-”

“Nothing would have been able to stop him.”

“But I could have! I should have step forward sooner, I should have stopped you. And your brother, by the Norns, your brother.” Your chest raised up and down, and you felt the anxiety return to you, “Loki what will he do?”

“I do not know. I am certain he did not pass. Thor will find a way to conquer, that I am sure of.”

Loki’s hands reached out to you once more, because you could feel them sit on top of your hips. “They stabbed you.”

You slowly set yours hands down, sniffling as you looked where he was looking.

You faltered as you looked down at your dress. It was the very one you had worn centuries ago that night in the ballroom. It stuck to your skin, but it was a much cleaner feeling than from the one you wore on the ship. It wasn’t blood and sweat that made your dress stick, rather it was the salt water that made it cling.

However, there was a tear just above your abdomen, and a pink scar outlined with red greeted you. You blinked once, twice, before looking up at Loki, whose face was set into a grimace. You felt as his fingers brushed it, watched as his nose twitched, as he gritted his teeth.

You bit your bottom lip as your eyes memorized his features, your brows pulled toward one another, and your vision becoming blurry.

“When did they do it?” He asked angrily, kneeling on the sand so that his eyes were eyelevel with your wound.

You blinked. “Not long after he broke your neck,” you whispered brittly at your words.

You felt the water touch your bare heels, the coolness brushing over your skin. The prince kneeling in front of you gave out a bitter laugh. “You ask me for forgiveness for the actions I chose, and yet you do not blame me for your death.” He leaned his head against your stomach. “I should be the one asking for forgiveness. I should be meeting Hela at this very moment. I would meet each punishment, not matter how torturous,” he gripped your hips tighter, “with eagerness if it meant taking the pain and the hurt I caused you.”

You combed his wet hair back with your fingers as your chin trembled, and he slowly looked up, his eyes glossy with tears and his mouth parted. “I’ve already forgiven you.”

He look at you in disbelief, “Then you are a fool.”

You smiled sadly, “And it seems that I will be even in death.”

“Such viridity,” his expression hardened, shaking his head, “such a naive woman you are.”

“I’m sorry.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “What are you apologizing to me now for?”

“I wish I could have given you more. I wish we had more time,” an ache in your chest made you look away from his hard eyes, “I would have made you happy,” you croaked, “if only we had more time.”

Loki moved to stand, and he gripped your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Look at me. Now.”

You didn’t listen, you only offered more tears in turn. “I’ve had the privilege of knowing you for more than fourteen hundred years. Each second I spent with you was never a dull moment. Every fleeting second made me the happiest man.”

He then crashed his lips with yours, his free arm snaking around you to pull you flush against him. You closed your eyes, gripping his tunic to pull him closer to you.

Your nerves flared, every particle of your being electrifying under his touch. He tilted his head to the left to gain more access, and your lips danced along with his.

It was a head spinning kiss, with an undertone of urgency, and your cheeks were wet and so were his. When he pulled away, you looked into his green eyes that were no longer hard, but soft with so many feelings left unsaid. “Our time together was stolen, and it was largely due to my affairs. I should have married you. Long ago. I should have given you the children that you wanted. That I will forever regret.”

He took your hand and rested it where his heart laid, but where there once was a strong pulse, now soundless and hollow. “But know that my heart beated for you. Even in death, I live to love you.”

Your tears were hot and he leaned in to kiss them away.

“I’ve always wanted to see the beaches,” you whispered quietly, the sound of the ocean nearly making it hard to hear you.

“And you’ve always wanted a little cottage somewhere quiet.” He added, leaning into your touch when you stroked his cheek.

“You’ve brought it to me, the sea,” you listened as the waves crashed against the rocks, “And they’ve brought me you. If I had to die, I’m glad that the Norns allowed me to do so by your side.” A few water droplets from your hair fell from your shoulders and down the length of your arms.  “Perhaps the fates are allowing me a second chance to fully devote myself to you.”

“It will never be enough,” He murmured, bringing his hand back down to your scar, “Darling, forgive me. For every single thing that I have done.”

“I already have,” You whispered, bringing his lips down to yours where you kissed him tenderly, passionately, and gently.  

A shadow fell over the two of you, and you turned to look at the eclipse that sat starkly in the sunset sky.

“Time is running out.” he whispered. He cupped your cheek, and his eyes grazed over your face.

Your throat became tight once again, “Where will we go?”

“To the stars,” he replied, looking up at where the first few stars appeared. “There has never been a Valhalla. Only the realm of souls that decorate the sky.”

“I don’t want to lose you again,” you said in a panic, “please don’t leave me, Loki. I can’t bare the thought of it.”

“I won’t leave you, and you won’t be leaving me. Our souls are already intertwined. We will rest together.” Again, he brushed the hot tears that had spilled from the corners of your eyes.

You let out a strangled sound, and like rain on a dusty pane, your tears fell and fell. You nodded, as you leaned your forehead on his shoulder. “I love you.”

He then led you by your hand into the shallow shore. He sat, looking up at you silently and instructing you to do the same with his eyes. When you sat, he slowly reclined, and you followed his movements, the water flowing over both your bodies.

This was it. The last moments you would see your physical forms.

If only we had more time, you thought to yourself. You turned to your side, and he turned his head towards you.

His green eyes reminded you of what emeralds must have looked like after they were submerged in water.

He was beautiful. He reached to take your hand, your hand looking so small compared to his. He kissed your knuckles, and then placed it once again on the area where his heart had beated. There was a prickling that started at your feet, and then slowly moved up your body. It was calming. It was serene. It was blissful.

The vision around your eyes blurred, but you continued staring into his eyes. The water slowly rose, and it clogged your ears, and you watched as it clogged his.

And then he spoke. Reciting the line of a poem he read to you in the castle library centuries ago, “‘We were together, I forget the rest.’”

Part 1: Ineffable

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