#tell me the nonsense reasons why you couldn’t be around today

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[dixons-sunshine]

No-Nonsense | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: I am so sorry this sucks. I’m moving in a few days, Saturday to be exact, and I’ve been packing non-stop today. When I finally sat down, my brain was fried and I couldn’t really think of words lol. This was the best I could do. I hope it’s still somewhat okay!

The sound of a disbelieving scoff being let out had Daryl tensing up. His cerulean-coloured eyes trailed over to where you leaned back against the wall, his hard, steel-like gaze resting on your face. “Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your own angered stare rested solely upon the crossbow-wielding archer, T-Dog, Rick and the kid, Miguel or something, not even being on your mind at that moment. “I want a gun.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at your statement. He didn’t even know why Rick had bothered asking you along. If shit hit the fan, you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself, and the archer didn’t feel like dying for some woman he didn’t even care for. Sure, you were a resident at Atlanta General before the world ended and had come along to check if Merle had potentially suffered from heatstroke, but other than that, you were useless. At least, to Daryl’s knowledge.

“Yeah, well ya ain’t gettin’ one. I ain’t ‘bout to have my head blown off ‘cause’a yer shit aim,” Daryl told you defiantly. Truth be told, he did not even know whether or not you could use a gun, but if your hesitance towards even looking at Dale’s shotgun back at the camp was anything to go by, it was best not to trust you with a weapon that could potentially lead to his demise.

Cleverly sensing that the situation would escalate without an intervention, the self-appointed leader stepped forward and between your’s and Daryl’s line of sight. “No need to get at each other’s throats.” Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. The last thing he wanted was for blood to be spilled over something as meaningless as an argument. The main concern was getting Glenn back. Rick turned towards you, an understanding glint in his eyes. “Shane told me you didn’t know how to handle a gun. I’m guessin’ he’s got it wrong.”

“Shane doesn’t know shit,” you spat bitterly, pushing yourself off the wall. “I know how to use a gun. I just don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well s’the way’a life now, Sweetheart. Better get to likin’ it real quick,” Daryl interjected before Rick could respond. He picked up his crossbow and slung it across his shoulder. “‘Sides, how do we know ya ain’t jus’ lyin’ to us?”

“You don’t,” you began, your jaw clenching as you tried to suppress your anger. “I could be lying to you, or I could be telling the truth. Either way, I’m not walking into that place with nothing but my good looks. So we can continue to argue about this all day, or you can stop being an asshole, shut up, trust me, and give me a goddamn gun, or else you can tend to your brother’s wounds on your own if we find him. Your choice.”

If there was one thing Daryl had to give you points for, it was your no-nonsense attitude. Most of the women at the camp seemed to fear him, but you didn’t. Time and time again, you stood up to both Shane and Merle. You refused to be belittled, and he respected you for that. You could stand your ground, regardless of the person you faced.

Swallowing his pride, because he sensed that he could potentially have been in the wrong, Daryl reached forward and grabbed a handgun from the table. He offered it to you, and when you wrapped your hand around the handle, his hand lingered on the weapon for a few moments. “Jus’ so ya know, I ain’t gon’ carry ya when ya shoot yerself in the foot.”

Against your better judgement, you sent him a small smile. “And I’m not gonna carry you when that guy shoots you in the ass for shooting him in his.”

Daryl let out a small huff of laughter. Under normal circumstances, the archer would have still been pissed. However, for some reason, seeing your smile made his anger fade away and be replaced with another feeling, one that unnerved him beyond belief. However, he pushed that odd, fluttery feeling to the depths of his mind. There were far more pressing matters at hand.

Before he could speak up, Rick’s voice flooded the air, making you and Daryl practically jump apart. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get goin’.” For added emphasis, he cocked his gun, motioning towards the kid. “Let’s get Glenn back.”

You spared one last look at the brooding archer. He gave you a small nod, a stark contrast to his previously angered, frustrated state. “After you,” he mumbled, motioning towards the door.

You sent him a playful smirk as you walked past him. “Why, thank you. That was almost gentlemanly of you.”

“Keep up the smart ass remarks and m’shootin’ an arrow into yer behind.”

[coco-loco-nut]

Twins

pairing: Lando x Twin Reader

summary: you are Lando younger twin, arguably more famous, and finally get to see him win, then you get to embarrass him a couple times

a/n: i was listening to the spice girls and got carried away from the original request, my bad :) also it’s not proofread

requests open masterlist

———————

“Lando, I literally have more followers and awards than you,” you argue with your twin about who’s more famous.

“Okay, well I’m still older,” he replies.

“Stop arguing, you rarely see each other as is. Why don’t you show her around the paddock and garages before you need to get ready for the race?” Zak rubs his face, tired of the sibling nonsense. He wasn’t wrong, you were much busier with your career. You are a member of a girl band that has been likened to the Spice Girls, have a successful solo career, and model when not on tour. The only reason you are at this race is because you have a concert in the same city a few hours after it.

“How’s the tour?” Lando asks, you arm looped with his as he leads you out of the garage.

“It’s so much fun. I missed being out on the road with the girls, and all the shows sold out. We should go to the club after our show, I heard that Miami is great for parties,” you say excitedly. The two of you were really close, despite your schedules not being great for hanging out.

“We will. All the guys are grateful for the tickets to your show tonight, by the way,”

“It was my pleasure, you guys will be in the family tent near the stage with backstage access. Enough about that, when will you no longer be Lando NoWins, bringing dishonor on my name,” you tease and he gently shoves you.

“Today’s the day, I feel it,” he says, pointing out some things. The nice thing about your stardom is that both you and Lando don’t notice or care about the cameras on you.

“Sure, and pigs will fly. The girls and I made a bet, if you win, then we will invite you and the grid up to the stage,” you tell him.

“Y/n?” you hear Carlos say from a group of drivers. Lando drags you over.

“Hi, Carlitos. How’s red suiting you?” you ask, hugging the Spaniard.

“Good, I heard you were in town for a show. How’s being an international pop star suiting you?” Carlos returns your question.

“It’s a lot of fun, I do miss Lando though,” you glance at your twin.

“Your sister is hot,” Logan says, he’s heard some of your music and he knows you are talented.

“Is she single?” Lance asks, also looking at you.

“She has a boyfriend, Luke, he’s an actor,” Lando scowls at the two guys.

“Would we know him from anything?” Max asks, trying to distract Lando.

“Bridgerton,” Lando says and the two single drivers groan.

“Yeah, you two don’t stand a chance. She’s dating Colin Bridgerton,,” Charles laughs.

“He’ll be at the concert tonight too,” Lando adds.

“I’m returning my favorite Norris to you, Lando,” Carlos walks you back over to the group.

“We will see you guys later,” Lando says, pulling you away so he can continue the tour.

“I found out who is performing at COTA this year,” you tell Lando and his eyes widen.

“Is it Taylor again? I can’t believe we missed out on that,” Lando guesses and you shake your head.

“Me, you idiot!” you gently hit his head.

“I knew you couldn’t stay away from me for too long,” Lando grins smugly.

“I can, and will, take away your ticket for tonight,” you threaten. Lando ignores you, pointing out something else. After the tour, Lando shows you where you can get a quick workout in while he changes into his race gear. You wait for Lando in the garage, where you meet Bianca.

“I’m a huge fan,” she gasps when you sit beside her.

“You’re a huge fan? I’m a huge fan. I love watching you race,” you tell her. Of course you support the F1 Academy, you just hope that the girls get contracts from it.

“Can we get a picture?” Bia asks and you are quick to agree. You get a couple pictures together before you spot Oscar and Lando walking in.

“Lan, Osc, come here. Family picture,” you call them over as Bia hands her phone to a social media staff member.

“We should do one of those awkward family photos from Tik Tok and gift them to Zak,” Bia suggests to Lando and Oscar.

“Sure Bia, we will talk about it later,” Oscar says, heading over to his car.

“Don’t crash, Lando, Mum will kill me,” you hug your twin tight.

“Maybe I will then,” he jokes but you give him a look that says it wasn’t funny. “Sorry, you’re right, I shouldn’t joke about that. I’ll see you after the race,” Lando heads out to the starting grid. You cheer when Oscar leads the race, and again when Lando takes the lead. After the safety car, you don’t speak about Lando’s position, afraid to jinx it. You run with the team to the end of the pit lane after lando crosses the line. You cry as Lando runs over, jumping into the arms of his team, and you cry harder when he’s set back down and hugs you.

“I’m so proud of you, Lando,” you say, holding him tight.

“Thank you for being here for me,” he says back, he’s crying too. You pull away and wipe the tears from his eyes.

“Go enjoy your podium, champ,” you smile as the crew lets you know it’s time to go to the podium. Bia pushes you up front with Zak. You video call your parents so they can watch from your view as well as the tv. You don’t even realize, or care, that the cameras captured you crying beside Zak as Lando raised his trophy. Afterwards, there’s only a minute to congratulate him again before you have to go to the Kaseya Center. You manager wanted Hard Rock Stadium, but that’s currently occupied by a bunch of F1 teams.

You start the show strong with the girls, and when you get to the part of the show where you usually bring out a musical guest, you have the pleasure of introducing the guys. The guys don’t realize that the girls and you have planned on embarrassing them.

“Thank you so much Miami, if you guys have been following the tour, then you know this is the part where we introduce a very special musical guest. I think you guys are going to like this one,” you grin devilishly as the crowd cheers.

“Give it up for your hometown boy, Logan Sargeant,” you pause again and watch Logan run onto the stage. “You’re a winner in their hearts, Logan. I’d also like to introduce my twin brother, Lando NoWins, fresh off of his very first Grand Prix victory,” you smile, Lando making a beeline to hug you. “Also the rest of the grid, I don’t need to introduce them, you know them from fan fiction about my brother,” you watch Lando almost choke on the air he’s breathing. Your band mate, Amy, takes over as you and the two other girls pass the guys mics.

“These boys have graciously agreed to prove they are multitalented, so they are going to be singing a favorite of ours,” she smiles, motioning the crowd to cheer. You and the girls start the introduction to Wannabe by the Spice Girls, the guys taking over at the start of the first verse. The four of you fill in where the guys don’t know the words as much, but it’s clear they are having fun with it, especially since there are dancing terribly on stage.

“The Formula One drivers, everyone! Their first and last musical performance on stage, stick to driving, my loves,” you laugh, most of them choosing to hug you before leaving the stage.

“Great show, Y/n,” your boyfriend, Luke, kisses you before going to greet your band mates so you can receive the horde of drivers.

“I can’t believe you made us sing,” Lando says, a smile on his face.

“At least it was a song I knew,” George says, he actually did kinda slay.

“Can I collaborate with you?” Charles asks.

“Of course, let’s find a time after the race season,” you tell charles.

“You forget not all of us know Brit Pop,” Alex pouts.

“You didn’t know the Spice Girls?” Fernando seems actually offended.

“Fernando, you made your debut at the height of the Spice girls, Oscar wasn’t even born when their last album came out,” Lewis points out.

“That one doesn’t count, Geri wasn’t in it,” Max says, referring to his team principal’s wife.

“You all sounded wonderful because you were having fun with it,” you tell them, Luke walks back over to you, handing you a towel and water.

“Geri just texted me, she said she thought we were funny, but we aren’t allowed to sing any more Spice Girls because we make her look bad,” Max says, looking at his phone. “Oh, but she thought your band is just lovely, and that the Spice Girls should join you for a tour stop,” Max tells you.

“Well, you all heard Ginger Spice, no singing career for you lot,” you laugh.

“Alright, you guys have a good rest of the season. I’ll see you in Austin,” you wave goodbye to them, only Lando remains.

“Would you and Luke like to join me for a late night dinner?” Lando asks, you look to your boyfriend for confirmation.

“If you can find somewhere that we won’t be mobbed, we are in,” you lean into Luke. “Alright, I need to shower and change, follow me,” you show them to a green room near your dressing room. After a quick shower, you throw on an oversized McLaren tee and grey sweatpants. The dinner is lovely, but you have to go straight from there to the airport to catch the late flight to your next tour spot.

When you return for Austin as a solo artist, you are bouncing with excitement, Lando has looked really good the last few races. After qualifying, you go to the stage to get ready for your performance. Lando sends a selfie to you of him and the guys waiting front row for your concert to start, obviously surrounded by security.

About halfway through, you pause to truly appreciate all 80,000 people here to watch you.

“I’d like to take a moment to appreciate all of you for being here, even if it’s just because my twin drives really fast. I, um, wanted to bring out some guest to show you how much I appreciate you all, if that’s okay with you?” you ask as the crowd goes crazy.

“If you couldn’t tell from my Miami concert, I love this band, so from the Spice Girls, Ginger and Scary Spice, aka Geri Horner and Mel B! Accompanying us on piano is Charles Leclerc!” You open your arms for the crowd to greet them, the tifosi in the crowd are extra loud. “Lando, close your ears,” you say really quickly, moving upstage to get into position beside the two Spice Girls. Charles starts playing the into to 2 Becomes 1, a very slow and sexual song. As the three of you move downstage, you can see Lando’s embarrassed face. Worth it.

[moonselune]

Based off events happening to me today:

Tav feeling super anxious for no reason and spiralling and they don't know why and their partner trying to help?

Please

Aw bless, i know this was sent a while ago but I hope things are okay xox

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The night was still, the kind of deep silence that should have felt soothing, wrapped in Karlach’s warmth and the safety of her arms. But tonight, the silence pressed on you, heavy and smothering, like a dark tide rising in your chest. Karlach had already drifted off beside you, one arm draped protectively across you as if even in sleep she wanted to keep you close, shield you.

You tried to breathe through it, tried to focus on the feeling of her arm, the softness of her skin against yours. But each inhale grew tighter, your chest clenching, until it felt like your lungs were refusing to open. Heart pounding, you clenched the sheets in your fists, trembling, as the world around you blurred and closed in, warping until you couldn’t tell up from down, awake from dreaming.

The sound of your labored breaths must have pulled Karlach from her sleep, because her eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep until they landed on you and filled with immediate concern.

“Hey…hey, babe, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice low and soothing, though you could hear the edge of worry she tried to mask. Her hand, warm and steady, came up to your cheek, thumb brushing along your skin. “You’re shaking, love—talk to me. What’s wrong?”

You tried to speak, to respond with something reassuring, anything that would tell her you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The walls felt like they were closing in, your vision tunneling, and you couldn’t look away from Karlach, from her face. She was here, with you, yet you felt like you were slipping away.

Karlach’s brows knitted together, her own chest tightening with helplessness. She’d faced countless enemies, survived the hellscape of Avernus, and yet here—watching you crumble in front of her—she didn’t know what to do. Her hand moved to clasp yours, fingers intertwining tightly as though she could anchor you back to reality.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice firmer now, taking on the same tone she’d use in battle, one she knew you trusted. “Breathe with me, okay? Just…try to match my breath. In and out. You’ve got this.”

You tried, focusing on her, on the gentle rhythm of her breathing, but it felt like you were trapped in a storm, and the calm Karlach offered was just out of reach. She watched you, distress clear in her expression as she realized her words weren’t getting through, and the soft crackle of her engine, the familiar hum, only made the quiet around you seem louder.

“Dammit,” she whispered, voice wavering. “I’m here, alright? Whatever’s got you like this, I’m right here.” She pulled you closer, wrapping her arms tightly around you, burying her face into your hair as if she could absorb some of the weight pressing down on you. “You’re safe. I swear it. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Not if I’m here.”

Her presence, so solid and unyielding, cut through the fear just enough to let you take a shuddering breath, her warmth seeping into you like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Her fingers traced comforting circles against your back, and she murmured soft, nonsensical reassurances, the kind of quiet comforts she’d never shared with anyone before you.

“You don’t have to talk,” she whispered, though the waver in her voice told you she desperately wished she knew what was happening in your mind. “Just…squeeze my hand, okay? Let me know you’re still here with me.”

With a shaky breath, you did, your fingers trembling but firm enough as you held onto her. Her eyes softened, filling with relief as she gave your hand a gentle squeeze in return.

“You’re not alone in this,” she continued, her voice barely above a murmur. “Whatever’s in your head… I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words, grounding and soothing, began to penetrate through the fog of your mind, the relentless weight lifting bit by bit. Karlach pressed her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your face as she matched her breathing to yours, syncing your uneven gasps with her steady inhales. Each breath felt a little easier, her warmth and steady presence like an anchor pulling you back from the depths.

Minutes passed, and gradually, the panic ebbed, the tightness in your chest loosening as you took in her scent, the comfort of her closeness. She stayed with you, patient and unwavering, until you felt the storm inside finally begin to calm.

When you looked up at her, her eyes were full of worry, tinged with guilt as though she could’ve done more.

“Are you…feeling any better?” she asked, brushing a hand through your hair, voice gentle. You nodded, squeezing her hand as you gave her a shaky smile, trying to reassure her.

“Thank you, Karlach,” you whispered, your voice still unsteady. “I…don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiled, though there was a vulnerability in her gaze, the depth of her worry for you still lingering. “You don’t have to know,” she said softly, pulling you close again. “Because I’m always going to be here.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

The anxiety came on suddenly, like a wave crashing over you, quick and relentless, stealing the air from your lungs. Your thoughts spun out of control, a tangled mess of doubts, worries, and fears, each one feeding off the last, building into something you couldn’t escape. You felt trapped inside your own head, barely aware of your surroundings, your breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps. Your hands shook as you gripped the edge of the table, fighting to anchor yourself to something solid.

Minthara had been beside you moments before, going over plans for the night’s camp watch, her calm, steely focus grounding in its own way. But as she turned back to you, her face changed. The sharpness in her gaze softened ever so slightly, concern bleeding through the cracks of her usual impassive mask.

“What is wrong?” Her voice was low, steady—meant to command, to cut through confusion. But the tone only made your pulse race faster, your mind recoiling from the idea of appearing weak before her.

“Nothing,” you managed to choke out, but it was obvious you were lying, and she wasn’t one to suffer dishonesty lightly.

“Don’t lie to me,” she bit out, but you could tell her voice was more uncertain than sharp. She reached out a hand, her fingers hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do with the display of vulnerability before her. Minthara was a force, a warrior who understood battlefields, strategy, survival. But this—the swirling, choking darkness you felt—wasn’t something she could simply attack head-on, and that realization seemed to unsettle her.

She watched as you struggled to control your breathing, her lips pressed into a thin line.

“Speak to me,” she said again, more insistently this time, almost as if ordering you to snap out of it.

You could barely hear her over the racing thoughts in your head, each more overwhelming than the last. Anxiety had taken root deep inside you, and no amount of her demanding tone or even her solid presence could shake it loose.

“I—I can’t,” you managed, voice barely more than a whisper.

Minthara’s frustration grew, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her gaze flickering around the room as though looking for something tangible she could fight, something she could fix. But there was nothing there, nothing to direct her fury at.

“This… fear,” she said finally, the word tasting foreign and strange in her mouth. “I don’t understand it. It has no shape, no sense. You’re strong; why can’t you just… dismiss it?” Her tone was more questioning than chastising, but you still flinched, the ache of not being understood cutting deeper.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, closing your eyes, trying to block out her piercing gaze. The words you wanted to say fell short, each attempt at an explanation slipping through your fingers. “It’s not that simple, Minthara. I can’t just will it away.”

For a moment, she stood there, silent, wrestling with her own irritation and helplessness. Her fists clenched at her sides, jaw tense. Then, with a frustrated sigh, she closed the distance between you, placing her hands on your shoulders in a grip that was firm, grounding.

“Look at me,” she ordered, and you forced yourself to meet her gaze, even as your mind continued to spin. “You are here. Right here, with me.” Her voice softened, but just barely, a rough edge of vulnerability breaking through. “There is no battle now, no foe to fight—only this moment.”

The warmth of her hands, the solidity of her presence, pulled you back, anchoring you even as you felt yourself slipping away. Her eyes held yours with a determination that cut through some of the fog, her grip on you a reminder that you weren’t alone.

“Focus on my voice, on my touch,” she murmured, her brow furrowing in concentration as she struggled to find the right words. “Breathe with me.”

You tried, inhaling deeply to match the steady rise and fall of her own breathing. The rhythm was grounding, a tether pulling you back toward something real, something outside of the chaos in your head.

“Minthara… I’m sorry,” you whispered, guilt flooding in as the worst of the panic ebbed, leaving exhaustion in its place. “I didn’t mean to… drag you into this.”

She huffed, shaking her head as her grip tightened ever so slightly.

“I don’t need your apologies,” she replied, her tone gruff but with a warmth hidden beneath. “Just… tell me how to help you next time. If there is a way.”

You nodded, her words a balm against the ache in your chest. “This… was enough.”

She scoffed lightly, but her lips softened into the barest hint of a smile. “Good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The world around you feels tight, claustrophobic, like it's closing in with each passing moment. Every sound is sharp, too loud, and every breath feels short, strained, as though you're inhaling smoke. You try to ground yourself, to focus on something—anything—but the rush of thoughts is relentless, tangling together, louder, and louder, until—

"Vlakith's eyes, what is wrong with you?"

Lae'zel's voice breaks through the noise, her tone sharp with annoyance, and though it's a familiar sound, it only heightens the chaos in your mind. You glance up at her, barely able to meet her gaze, your hands gripping the edges of your cloak tightly, knuckles white. Your vision swims, and there's something vulnerable, exposed, in your look that catches her off-guard. She crosses her arms, brow furrowing deeply.

"What has brought you to this pathetic state?" she demands, though her tone carries a slight edge of uncertainty. Lae'zel isn't used to this, to seeing you so unsteady. Her impatience seems almost protective, like she's annoyed that she can't simply strike down whatever is plaguing you.

You open your mouth to respond, but no words come. Your throat feels constricted, tight, and suddenly, your chest aches, like you're being crushed from the inside. Your heart races, and it’s hard to keep your breathing steady. Each attempt to explain feels pointless, small words incapable of conveying the tangle inside you.

"Lae'zel, I—" you start, but your voice cracks, and you feel a pang of embarrassment. You look away, frustration mingling with the turmoil inside, and that only makes everything worse.

Lae'zel huffs, her usual directness faltering. You see the familiar tension in her jaw, the slight narrowing of her eyes as she looks at you with something close to confusion, maybe even worry.

"Are you injured? Poisoned?" she asks, her gaze flickering over you as though searching for some sign of physical harm. "Speak, or have you lost your tongue as well?"

Your breaths come quicker, shallower, and Lae'zel's frustration intensifies. She reaches out, her hand hovering over your shoulder, fingers twitching with restrained force. She’s trying to understand, trying to solve this the way she would a problem on the battlefield, yet it's clear she has no idea what to do.

"Lae'zel," you manage, voice barely a whisper. "I—I can't—" The words crumble into silence, and you turn away, feeling an overwhelming need to escape, to be anywhere but here.

But she doesn’t let you. Instead, she steps in front of you, her figure imposing, her expression a mix of irritation and something else, something softer that she would never acknowledge out loud.

"Cease this nonsense," she orders, her tone still sharp. "You are stronger than this. Why are you allowing yourself to be reduced to a trembling wretch?"

You can see her impatience clashing with her own helplessness, the unease in her gaze as she watches you struggle. She wants to fix it, to fight it, but anxiety isn’t an enemy she can face with her blade.

"Lae'zel, I don’t… I don’t know what to do," you finally admit, feeling the words rush out in a painful confession. "Everything feels like—like it’s too much. I can't… I can’t stop it."

Her expression softens, if only slightly, as she processes your words. Her hand hesitantly comes to rest on your shoulder, her grip firm, grounding. She sighs, exasperated, but there’s a trace of something else, a rare tenderness lurking beneath her frustration.

"This… weakness of yours," she mutters, her gaze piercing but not unkind, "it will not conquer you. You are stronger than this."

You swallow, looking down, but her hand tightens on your shoulder, commanding your attention.

"I do not know how to battle something that lives only in your mind," she admits, voice low, almost reluctant. "But I will not let it claim you."

The honesty in her words, the sincerity that she rarely shares, cuts through the haze. She doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to help, but she’s here, and she’s not backing away.

"Look at me," she says, her voice softer, less an order and more a plea. "You are not alone, do you hear me? You are… mine." She pauses, the weight of that admission hanging in the air, her hand moving to clasp the back of your neck, fingers steadying.

You nod, taking a shaky breath, feeling some of the tension ease under her touch. Her hand remains firm, anchoring you, and though her expression remains stern, there’s a glimmer of understanding in her eyes.

"If this… feeling attempts to overtake you again," she says, struggling with the words, "know that I am here. And I will not let you fall."

Her words, her strength, they begin to ground you, to steady the spiraling thoughts. It’s not perfect, and she’s still as impatient and brash as ever, but in her own way, she’s offering you solace.

"Thank you," you manage, voice trembling but genuine. Lae'zel huffs, her hand leaving your shoulder with an awkward pat.

"Yes, well, see that you regain your senses soon," she mutters, though her eyes linger on yours, holding a warmth that belies her gruffness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The evening had started peacefully, with you and Shadowheart sharing a quiet moment by the fire, watching embers flicker against the backdrop of the starlit sky. Shadows from the flames danced across her face, lending her beauty a mysterious, ethereal quality. She was curled against you, her head on your shoulder, fingers intertwined with yours, her touch warm and steady. But somewhere in the calm, a ripple of unease began to grow, small and sharp, turning slowly into a twisting, thorny mass of thoughts in your chest.

At first, you tried to ignore it, keeping your breath steady, your hand still wrapped around hers. But the familiar pressure started to mount, your heart drumming an erratic rhythm in your chest, thoughts racing faster than you could tether them. Each breath seemed to get shorter, constricted, your mind and body spiraling in sync.

Shadowheart noticed the change, her fingers stilling in yours as she looked up at you.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice soft, but laced with growing concern.

You tried to nod, tried to answer her, but words lodged themselves in your throat, and a stifling silence stretched out instead. The familiar symptoms crept over you—sweat beading on your forehead, heart hammering, mind racing in a flurry of worst-case scenarios and creeping fears you couldn’t explain. You closed your eyes, trying to drown out the overwhelming rush of it all.

“Hey… look at me.” Shadowheart’s voice was a steady anchor, but even that felt distant, unreachable. She tightened her hold on your hand, shifting to face you fully, her expression growing more worried by the second. “You’re not all right, are you?”

There was a helplessness in her gaze, a deep, worried line creasing her forehead. Shadowheart was no stranger to combat, to wounds and battle scars—but this was different. She couldn’t simply fight off whatever was holding you hostage.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” she whispered, squeezing your hand, her other hand reaching to cup your cheek. “Please, tell me how to help you.”

The words barely registered. Your mind was racing too fast, filled with an overwhelming wave of dread and nameless anxieties that seemed to suffocate you from within. Your breath grew shallower, panic clawing at the edges of your awareness. You felt untethered, as though you were floating far from your own body, lost in a sea of dread.

“I… I don’t…” you stammered, struggling to find something, anything to ground yourself.

Shadowheart’s eyes widened, and her hand on your cheek grew firmer, more determined.

“I’m right here,” she murmured, her voice laced with a fierce, protective tone. “Look at me. Just focus on me. Forget everything else.”

But focus seemed impossible, your thoughts spiraling faster and faster, like being caught in a current you couldn’t swim against. You clutched at her hand like a lifeline, but even that felt like it was slipping away, your mind lost in a haze of fear and helplessness.

Shadowheart’s breath hitched, her distress evident.

“I don’t know how to help, but I’m not leaving you,” she whispered, her voice laced with a tremor of frustration—at herself, at this intangible enemy pulling you away from her. “Please, just… keep holding onto me. Try to breathe with me, okay?”

She brought her forehead to rest against yours, closing her eyes, and began to breathe in slow, measured counts, her breaths steady, an anchor in the chaos. She kept her hand on your cheek, her fingers tracing gentle circles against your skin, grounding you in the feeling of her warmth, the solid reality of her presence.

For a long time, you remained caught in the grip of panic, but Shadowheart didn’t waver. She continued to hold you, her voice a constant murmur of reassurance.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe,” she repeated softly, her thumb brushing gently across your cheek. And slowly, so slowly, you began to feel the weight lifting, your breaths aligning with hers, each inhale and exhale pulling you a little closer to the present.

When your breathing finally slowed, the panic ebbing to a dull throb, you opened your eyes, meeting her gaze. Her face was etched with relief and lingering worry, her own breaths still steady but shallow, as if she had been holding them alongside you.

“There you are,” she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips. Her fingers lingered on your cheek, her thumb brushing softly across your skin. “I didn’t know how to help, but… I’m glad you stayed with me.”

You managed a nod, exhausted but grateful, letting her presence soothe you as the last remnants of fear melted away. She leaned forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, and the weight of her love and care filled the hollow spaces where panic had once dwelled.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

The night was still, the crackling of the campfire softened by a light breeze, but it was doing nothing to calm the spiraling chaos in your mind. Your chest was tight, and your breaths came shallow and quick, as if you couldn’t pull in enough air, couldn’t hold enough of it to ground yourself. Panic wrapped its relentless grip around you, twisting with each racing thought. Everything felt unbearably close, as though the walls of the night itself were pressing in on you.

Jaheira had been sitting beside you by the fire, recounting stories of her travels, her words lulling you to a quiet peace until the wave had started to take over. She turned to you, her face creasing with worry as she noticed the change, her warm expression shifting to one of sharp concern.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her tone soft, hands reaching toward yours.

You tried to nod, tried to ground yourself in her gaze, but the pressure in your chest only grew tighter. The world felt unreal, and no matter how much you fought it, your mind kept spiraling—thoughts blending together, fears and memories piling up until everything was a tangled mess of what-ifs and impossible scenarios.

Jaheira’s eyes widened, realizing something was deeply wrong. Her hands, usually so steady and controlled, trembled as she gently cupped your face.

“Look at me,” she urged, her voice gentle but laced with urgency. “Breathe, alright? Slow breaths. Focus on my voice.”

Her hands were warm, grounding in a way, but even her touch couldn’t completely pull you back. Every fiber of you was fighting to calm down, to ease the storm in your mind, but each attempt felt like trying to grasp smoke. The panic felt endless, and you could see the worry deepen in Jaheira’s eyes as you struggled to respond.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” she murmured, her voice breaking slightly as she glanced around as if seeking an answer in the shadows of the trees. “Please, just… breathe with me, alright? We’ll get through this.”

Her distress tugged at you, piercing through the haze just enough to make you feel guilty for causing her pain, but even that seemed to add to the spiral. You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to fight back the rising tide of panic, but it was no use. The tighter you tried to hold on, the harder it was to breathe, and soon you were gasping, fingers digging into the ground as if holding on to something solid could somehow anchor you.

Jaheira shifted closer, wrapping her arms around you, pulling you tightly against her.

“Please, love, come back to me,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. You’re safe. Just stay with me.”

There was a desperation in her tone that broke through, her words pressing into the heart of the storm inside you. She was grounding herself in trying to ground you, holding you with a fierce tenderness, her arms strong and unyielding, as if her very presence could keep the panic from consuming you whole. Her fingers gently traced patterns across your back, her breath steady and even as she held you close.

“You’re safe,” she repeated, each word soft and deliberate. “I know it feels overwhelming, but it will pass. Just focus on my voice. I’m right here.”

Little by little, her words began to take root, the pressure loosening in your chest as you leaned into her touch. She kept whispering softly, her words a steady thread that you latched onto, pulling yourself out of the spiral, inch by inch.

After a few minutes, the panic began to ebb, replaced by a heavy exhaustion. Jaheira’s hands never left you, her touch constant and reassuring, her fingers tracing gentle circles on your back as she pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

When you finally looked up, her face was tear-streaked, her expression full of relief and love.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, voice raw and shaky. Jaheira shook her head, a faint, tearful smile breaking through as she held you tighter.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” she replied, her tone full of quiet conviction. “I’d face a thousand battles for you… I’ll face this one too. I don’t care how hard it is, how lost you feel. I’ll be here, every time.”

Her words sank in, a warmth settling in the hollow ache that the panic had left behind. You buried your face against her shoulder, letting her words, her presence, become your anchor.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

It started as a low tremor in your chest—a tiny thread of worry that, on most days, might pass unnoticed. But tonight, under the quiet candlelight and warmth of Gale’s study, it begins to unfurl, insidious, growing with every heartbeat until you’re barely breathing, barely aware of anything but the constriction in your chest, the overwhelming feeling that something is very wrong.

The book in your hands slips to the floor with a soft thud, but it sounds like a thunderclap to your frayed nerves. You clutch the edge of the armrest, struggling for air, unable to quite ground yourself in the room, in the moment.

“Hey… Are you alright?” Gale’s voice breaks through, sounding far off despite his closeness. You can hear the alarm creeping into his tone, and when he moves closer, kneeling beside you, his hands hover uncertainly in the air as though he’s afraid to touch you, unsure of what might help. "Talk to me. What's wrong?"

You want to answer, to say anything, but the words knot up in your throat. Each inhale feels like it could be your last, shallow and jagged, and all you can do is try to gasp for air that never seems to fully come.

Panic flickers in Gale's eyes, an emotion so rarely seen in him. He reaches out, gently brushing his fingers over your shoulder, and then, with more urgency, taking your hand in his.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, even though he’s clearly just as frightened. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

You look at him, his face swimming in your vision, distorted by the intensity of your anxiety. A silent tear slips down your cheek, and the sight of it seems to make him crumble. Gale has seen you in battle, in moments of joy and sorrow, but this—this paralyzing, quiet fear—is something entirely new.

“I don’t know what to do, love,” he whispers, voice trembling as he brushes your hair back, his thumb grazing your cheek, catching another tear as it falls. “Just… tell me how to help.”

“I—” Your voice catches, barely a whisper, almost inaudible. “I don’t… I can’t…”

“I’m here,” he repeats, his words soft but determined. “You don’t have to go through this alone.” His hands find yours again, holding them firmly as though his touch alone might be enough to anchor you, to pull you back from the edge.

As the minutes pass, Gale settles beside you on the floor, crossing his legs, staying as close as he can without overwhelming you. His gaze doesn’t waver, fixed on you with a quiet intensity, like he’s willing his calmness to wash over you, to lend you even a sliver of the steadiness that you desperately need.

"Try to breathe with me, alright?" he says after a moment, keeping his voice steady and low, a soft, warm undertone that you can just barely latch onto. "One breath at a time. In, and then out. I’ll do it with you."

You try to focus on him, on the cadence of his words, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he inhales deeply and then lets it out in a slow, measured release. In and out. Over and over. And gradually, your breaths begin to mirror his, hesitant at first but then finding a shaky kind of sync.

Minutes pass in silence, with Gale whispering quiet reassurances, his fingers tracing soothing circles along the back of your hand. He stays close, his presence a grounding force, his warmth beginning to break through the fog.

When the weight in your chest finally begins to ease, your breaths evening out, Gale’s face softens, relief flashing in his eyes as he catches your gaze.

“You’re alright,” he murmurs, leaning in closer. “We’re alright.”

You nod, swallowing back a fresh wave of emotion, this time not from fear but from the tenderness in his voice, the unwavering patience in his gaze.

Gale raises a hand to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek, his own eyes glassy with tears of shared relief. "I was… so afraid," he admits, voice thick. "I’ve never seen you like this. I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing."

“You did… just right,” you whisper, the words rough but sincere. You lean into his touch, finding solace in the warmth of his palm against your cheek.

He smiles softly, and the tension in his shoulders melts, replaced by an aching tenderness. “Anytime you need, I’ll be here,” he says. “For as long as you want me.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The night air was heavy, pressing in as you sat by the dying embers of the campfire, your chest tight and breaths shallow. You weren’t even sure when the panic had crept in, only that it was there now, spreading like wildfire. The familiar, suffocating weight of anxiety had taken root, pushing thoughts out of control and magnifying every minor fear into something insurmountable.

Astarion was the first to notice, his usual playful smirk replaced by a look of deepening concern. He took a step closer, his sharp eyes studying you as if searching for some sign he could decipher. You could tell he was trying to mask his worry, but his brow was furrowed, and his hands fidgeted by his sides.

"Love?" he asked, his voice soft but laced with tension. "What's happening? What’s… what’s wrong?"

You tried to respond, but your throat felt closed, as if something tangible were lodged there, blocking any words from escaping. Your mind was awash with racing thoughts, each one louder and more pressing than the last, spiraling faster and faster until you felt lost in the noise.

Astarion reached out, hesitating as though unsure of what to do or how to help, his hand hovering before finally resting lightly on your shoulder. "Hey… Look at me, please. Whatever this is, you’re not alone. I’m here."

But you couldn’t meet his gaze, your eyes fixed downward, hands gripping your knees in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. The fear clawed at you, telling you things would never be alright, that you’d be forever trapped in this choking panic. You could feel Astarion’s fingers tighten, his voice growing sharper with unease.

“I… I don’t know what to do,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. You heard him curse under his breath, the usual mask of bravado slipping away to reveal a vulnerability he rarely showed. He seemed almost frantic, as if desperately trying to piece together what was happening.

A moment later, he lowered himself beside you, his voice gentler, softer. “Listen. Please, listen to me, alright? You don’t have to say anything, but… I need you to hear me.”

You gave a small, involuntary nod, still struggling to focus on anything outside the panic raging inside you. Astarion took a shaky breath, reaching out to take your hand in his. His grip was uncharacteristically warm, steadying, the weight of it something solid to anchor you to the present.

“This feeling, whatever it is… it won’t last forever,” he said, his tone steadying, as if willing it to be true. “I know it doesn’t feel that way right now, but just… try to breathe with me, alright? One breath at a time.”

His voice was calm, even if his expression was anything but. You could see the worry etched in his face, the faint tremor in his hand that betrayed his own anxiety. But he kept speaking, his voice low and unwavering, grounding you with each word.

“Just follow my breath. In… and out,” he whispered, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve spent years in the dark, chained to my own mind, and… and I don’t know how to take away your pain. I want to. But for now… let me be here.”

His words cut through the fog of your mind, just enough to remind you that you weren’t alone. His hand squeezed yours, the slight pressure a reminder of his presence, steady and constant. Gradually, painfully, you tried to match his breaths, focusing on the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hand in yours.

Astarion’s fingers brushed over your knuckles, his touch delicate as if you were something fragile he feared might break. “Whatever darkness you’re feeling, I’ll stay right here. I swear it. And when you’re ready, I’ll help you put the pieces back together.”

The sincerity in his voice was a balm, easing the sharp edges of panic that had gripped you. It was strange, seeing him so unguarded, so openly vulnerable. He stayed by your side, his hand never leaving yours, his presence a lifeline through the worst of the storm. For once, he wasn’t hiding behind humor or bravado; he was simply there, raw and real, with you in your fear.

Slowly, your breaths evened, the crushing weight in your chest loosening just enough for you to draw in a full breath. Astarion noticed immediately, a glimmer of relief softening his expression. His thumb traced slow, soothing circles on the back of your hand, his voice a quiet murmur.

“There you are,” he whispered, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “One breath at a time. And I’ll be here, through all of it.”

You managed a small, grateful smile, squeezing his hand in return. For once, words felt unnecessary. Just the quiet presence of him beside you, his unwavering loyalty, was enough. And as the remnants of fear finally ebbed away, you leaned into him, letting yourself be held, comforted by the knowledge that, with him, you were never alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The first sign is a subtle tremor in your hands, just barely visible, but enough that you feel the prickle of dread in the pit of your stomach. You can’t seem to get a full breath in, your chest tight and shallow as though your lungs are pressing up against a wall. You try to steady yourself, forcing a long inhale and focusing on the quiet rhythm of the camp around you—the distant crackle of the fire, the murmur of voices.

But it doesn’t help. The edges of your vision start to blur, and your thoughts are racing, slipping through your grip like sand.

Wyll is the first to notice, his keen eyes catching the slight shake in your hands, the way your gaze is unfocused. He’s by your side in an instant, worry written in every line of his face as he crouches down, his hand hovering near your shoulder, hesitant.

“Hey, love… Are you all right?” His voice is soft, careful, but it only makes your anxiety spike higher.

You try to speak, to reassure him that you’re fine, that it’s nothing, but the words stick in your throat, tangled and heavy. The more you try to grasp at them, the more they slip away, leaving you fumbling in silence, feeling the wave of panic rise higher and higher.

Wyll’s face changes, his brows knitting together as he takes in the silence, the unsteady breath you’re forcing through clenched teeth.

“Okay, all right…” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, his fingers reaching out tentatively to rest on your arm. “I’m here. Whatever’s going on, I’m right here.”

You’re barely able to nod, the gesture feeling stiff and unnatural, your muscles locked in tension. A small part of you wants to pull away, to hide this unraveling from him, but you can’t move, trapped in a fog of your own spiraling thoughts.

Wyll swallows, clearly unsettled, but he doesn’t pull away. His hand is warm and steady against your arm, grounding even as your mind spins further out of control. He leans closer, voice steady but laced with a faint tremor. “Tell me what you need. Anything, I’ll do it. Just… tell me how to help.”

But you can’t; the words are gone, buried beneath the weight of your anxiety, the way it presses against your chest like a vice. You’re lost in a spiral, every thought louder and more overwhelming than the last, each one feeding into the next in a relentless loop.

You close your eyes, shaking your head slightly, as if that might shake loose the panic.

Wyll’s hand tightens, his grip firm and reassuring even in his own uncertainty. He takes a slow, measured breath, almost as if he’s trying to model it for you, trying to lead you into his rhythm.

“I… I don’t know if this’ll help,” he says, his voice low and soft. “But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe with me.”

He inches closer, one hand tentatively reaching for yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles. The steady warmth of his touch breaks through the fog just enough to let you catch a hint of reality, a reminder of something outside the panic. You try to focus on it, letting the sensation ground you.

Your breath is still shallow, your thoughts still racing, but Wyll doesn’t falter. He keeps his hand over yours, murmuring soft reassurances, his voice steady and calm even as his own anxiety edges into his expression.

Slowly, the crushing pressure in your chest begins to lessen, the loop of thoughts beginning to lose its hold. You focus on Wyll’s touch, his thumb tracing patterns over your hand, the way he murmurs softly, keeping his words gentle and unobtrusive, as though he’s trying not to startle you.

“I’m right here,” he says again, and this time, you’re able to feel it—his presence, solid and unwavering, cutting through the haze. “I’ll be right here until you’re ready. No rush.”

Bit by bit, you begin to anchor yourself to his words, letting them replace the racing thoughts. The fog clears slowly, your breathing evening out as you match the rhythm of his. Finally, you open your eyes to see him watching you, his gaze soft with worry and relief.

He lets out a small, shaky breath, a hand lifting to gently brush your hair back, his fingers lingering as though to remind you he’s still there.

“You don’t ever have to go through that alone,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with quiet determination. “I’m here, for whatever you need. Always.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The evening had begun with a rare stillness, a gentle calm woven through the golden light filtering into the small clearing you and Halsin had found to spend time together. He was humming as he tended to a fire, casting a glance your way every so often, a warm, gentle smile playing on his lips. But tonight, something felt off in your chest, a faint unease that had begun as a nagging, restless energy, yet had quietly grown until you couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Without warning, that unease blossomed into something sharper and more consuming. Your thoughts tangled and twisted, each one splintering into two, then four, until your mind felt like a mass of fraying threads. Your breaths became short and shallow, each one catching at the back of your throat. The forest around you blurred, the steady shapes of trees and flowers dissolving into a rush of shadowed green, and Halsin’s humming, usually so soothing, only seemed to crowd your senses further.

“Are you alright?” His voice, deep and familiar, brought you back just enough to make you realize that your hands were trembling. He was watching you with concern, his warm brow furrowing as he took a step closer.

You tried to answer, but your voice caught, nothing more than a thin rasp. Panic welled up, the edges of your vision growing dim as every part of you wanted to escape, to run from this terrible feeling clawing through your chest.

“My heart,” he said, more softly, kneeling beside you, his hand reaching for yours, but stopping just before it touched. “Something’s wrong. Please, just breathe with me.”

It was so Halsin, so typically him to stay calm and grounded. But you could only manage a tight, frantic shake of your head as the feeling kept surging, as if it were swallowing you whole. His face fell, an unusual worry clouding his eyes.

“How can I help? Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it,” he pleaded softly, his voice straining with his own rising concern.

You could feel his helplessness, the confusion behind his eyes. You wanted to reach out, to tell him it would pass, that you’d be fine, but the words slipped away. The worry on his face only sharpened your own distress, a dull ache forming in your chest.

He leaned back, taking a deep breath as if grounding himself for the both of you. Gently, he moved to sit closer, keeping his posture open, his eyes gentle yet alert.

“I’m here,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “I’m not leaving.”

The world still felt like it was closing in, but something about his words, his sheer presence, gave you a fragile tether to cling to. You focused on his voice, letting the deep, familiar cadence of it wash over you. Slowly, achingly, your breathing began to match his, pulling in slower, steadier breaths.

“I don’t know what this is like for you,” he continued softly, watching you intently, his voice even as if he didn’t want to disrupt the rhythm you were building. “But I want to understand. I want to help. You don’t have to hide it, not with me.”

You felt the tremor in his words, the sheer sincerity. The weight of them, the softness, eased the tightness in your chest. You closed your eyes, focusing on his presence, his warmth beside you, the smell of the earth and pine that always seemed to linger around him.

After a few more breaths, you managed to reach out, fingers brushing against his hand. He stilled, his eyes searching yours, and then his fingers wrapped carefully around yours. The warmth of his hand grounded you, gave you something real to hold onto.

“You’re safe here,” he said gently. “Whatever you’re feeling, whatever it is—there’s no need to run from it. Not with me here. We can face it together.”

The gentle reassurance was enough to anchor you, enough to let the pounding in your chest ebb just a little. You squeezed his hand, and his answering squeeze felt like a lifeline.

Slowly, he guided you, taking steady breaths in time with yours, whispering soft encouragements and gentle reassurances until the world around you began to settle, and the vice in your chest loosened. The rush of sensations gradually dulled, leaving only Halsin’s presence beside you, solid and comforting, his thumb brushing over your hand in gentle, soothing circles.

When you finally managed to meet his gaze, the worry in his eyes had softened into an expression of deep, unyielding care. He reached up with his free hand, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender and grounding.

“I am here for you, always,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Whatever you need. If there’s anything I can do… I will.”

With a weak, grateful smile, you nodded, feeling the warmth of his hand against yours, and finally, the world felt a little safer, a little more steady, simply because he was by your side.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

oof bit of a heavy one, but I hope you guys enjoyed it! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts

It's the day of the Fall in the Sherlock fandom...needless to say that today's prompt is fall...

The Luckiest Girl in the world (chapter 4)

Summary: Rosie starts to interact with her uncle in earnest, much to Sherlock and John's delight. Mycroft is not that amused...

Four Years Old

Shortly after our seaside visit, things were set in motion by the British Government, aka Mycroft Holmes. Papers were signed, and a few months before my fourth birthday, I was Sherlock’s legal daughter. My Papa. God, how I love him. Just as much as I love Dad. And the adoption came with more benefits. I got an uncle and two grandparents as well.

My uncle Myc, as I call him, which he wrinkled his nose at in the beginning, is a complex man. Like his younger brother, but also different. The walls around him are thicker and not as easily penetrable as Papa’s. Gaining access to Mycroft Holmes’s heart, is no easy feat. Only a handful of people have managed it, and I’m the last one in line. Walls can indeed fall.

Dad told me how Papa constantly bickered, argued and fought with his brother, but Dad knew there was love there. Uncle Myc did anything in his power to keep Papa safe, and later Dad and me.

When I started to really interact with my uncle, Papa apparently had the time of his life, because at the age of barely four, I had no idea who Mycroft Holmes really was, or what he was capable of. I just saw a pompous man, always dressed in a three-piece suit, and carrying an umbrella. The latter spurred my brain, not to mention my tongue, into action.

“Why do you always have that parasol with you?” I asked and pointed at his umbrella.

Papa rumbled and Dad chuckled. It was Papa who had told me the name of the item. 

“It’s an umbrella, Rosamund,” he said stiffly and glared daggers at his brother, fully knowing who had “taught” me the name.

I didn’t care what the damn thing was called, but stared stubbornly at him and waved a hand, as Papa used to do when he didn’t want to be troubled with trifles.

“Why?” I asked sternly, lifting my chin in challenge.

“Oh, John. That surely is the spitting image of what you looked like when you turned his offer down in that garage all those years ago,” I heard Papa say.

I had no idea what he was talking about, and didn’t bother asking, so I continued staring my uncle straight in the eyes, daring him to deny me an answer. 

“You got your stubbornness from your dad,” Papa always says.

Uncle Myc cleared his throat and sat down on the sofa, before he explained some nonsense, I didn’t believe for a second. How the British weather is unpredictable, that he sometimes needed it for support if his leg should, for some reason, give way. At that point Papa and Dad snorted in unison and I rolled my eyes. That got me a tiny hint of a smile. It probably reminded him of his brother when he was my age.

“When you’re old enough, I will take you to the shop that makes these, and let you choose your very own,” he offered in a tone that was supposed to be friendly, but his lack of training in that area, made it sound more like a threat.

***

“Did you see his face, John,” Papa laughed when everyone had left my birthday party.

Dad giggled and was almost unable to answer, clinging to Papa’s arm like it was the only thing preventing him from falling.

“I did! Please tell me he still got surveillance cameras in the flat,” Dad said breathlessly and looked up at Papa with a pleading expression.

Papa bent down and kissed his forehead, and whispered something I couldn’t discern. It clearly contained something sentimental, because Dad cupped Papa’s face and murmured “love you”, before they started laughing again.

The reason for this silly behaviour had everything to do with Nana’s gift. It was an umbrella. Light green, with yellow flowers, green plants, and a white bird with a large beak on the rim. That in itself, wasn’t what got my fathers into a fit of giggles, but rather my outburst after I’d thanked Nana for it.

“Look, uncle Myc! I got one too. Just like yours. “

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[idlerin]

nonsense — 23. tell me tell me

three years ago,,

oikawa grew up sure of everything, showing it through a confident, most of the time borderline cocky attitude. It was what he was supposed to show, his shield against the cruel world and everything awful consumed in it- “awful” also including himself. he wasn’t perfect, but he liked pretending to be.

there were few things he was sure of that he knew meant something. he was sure he loved playing volleyball, he was sure he loved modeling, he was sure he loved acting, most of all, he was sure he loved you. he realized it during one of those days when you were staying over at his house, no reason other than wanting to spend time with your boyfriend, he was walking out from the kitchen because he was cutting you some apples slices.

you reached over to get a piece when the both of you locked eyes and you smiled, then he smiled, and he realized he wanted his everyday to be like this, he was happy just basking in your presence, because with you, everything made sense.

everything only made sense when you were around. so fuck his shoot today, he couldn’t stand making you sad because he couldn’t make it to your graduation. he can take the scolding from his manager he’d definitely get later, right now he’d enjoy being with you.

“tooru .. i.. i still think you should take the offer,” you say, head down. you had found out through iwa-chan about the offer from the international agency. he wanted to take it, really, it was a great contract offered to a rookie actor like him— someone still making a name for himself outside of where he grew up in, but he also wanted to stay here, he wanted that more than anything, so he’d already made up his mind about staying, but you’re making him falter with the way your hands are holding his face.

“If you’re worried about the long distance thing then it would be fine, i’m sure we can do it, we’d call and text all the time and it would be like we’re right next to each other.. just please don’t make rash decisions, this is your dream,” you look at him with the sincerity that pierces his heart, then you place a gentle kiss on his lips that never fails to give him butterflies, “i love you.”

you give him another kiss and he thinks he’ll do anything you ask of him if you would just keep on doing that, “now.. how am i supposed to not do what you want when you’re bribing me with kisses?”

you grin that smile of yours he loves, “better just do as i say then?”

he grabs your hips and pulls you over so you would straddle his lap, “i love you, [name],” he says, tucking stray hairs away from your face. the scolding and the fury from his manager would all be worth it, because he gets to be right here, with you, and he gets to see you happy.

“are you stupid, oikawa!?” oikawa winces at his manager’s rage, “the whole shoot got held back because you didn’t fucking go like you were supposed to! you wasted a lot of people’s time! you’re so irresponsible! do you not take your career seriously? is this all just a joke to you!? the director is furious!” his antsy manager walks around his apartment in circles.

“first, you didn’t want to sign the once in a lifetime international contract because of your girlfriend, now you miss a shoot because of your girlfriend–” that’s when oikawa gets ticked, he was planning to merely sit still while he gets scolded but he’s not going to stay silent when it comes to you.

“don’t bring [name] into this, it’s not her fault, it’s all my decisions—!”

“exactly! your irrational decisions, made because of her. she’s holding you back! why can’t you see that? i thought you wanted to be a successful actor!? the way you act is making me doubt it!”

“she is not holding me back! in fact, because i went to my girlfriend, i want to go through with the offer now!” oikawa shouts furiously, clenching his jaw, he wanted to bring this up calmly but he lost control of himself.

that’s when his manager finally stills, huffing and breathing heavily, blinking a few times, in the center of his apartment, “that’s… good.”

oikawa looks to the side, fists clenched. There was nothing more he’d like than to run back to you again, but he can’t just go to you every single time he’s inconvenienced. he needed to learn some self control.

“i’ll set up a meeting, we would discuss it with the agency… it’s good that you’ve changed your mind,” the last of what he says before his manager leaves, the click of the door the signal that he’s gone.

oikawa sinks into his couch and pulls at his hair. it was his fault for not being responsible enough, he knew that, he has a lot of people to apologize to, especially his manager. oikawa knew his manager only wanted the best for him, but sometimes he could be too much.

oikawa misses you already. you were the only one who could reassure him, make him feel content. he was aching to contact you. he’s the one who usually engages in healthy relationship talk and constantly tells you that if you have a problem then you’ll talk about it together, but now he’s the one who’s reluctant to open up.

a few days later his manager stayed true to his word that he would set up a meeting with the international agency that wanted to take oikawa in. they were discussing the clauses, most of which oikawa already knew, since he’s already read half of the contact that was sent to him. he was only reluctant about one thing.

“is the dating ban necessary?” oikawa could feel his manager glaring daggers on the side of his head.

the agent chuckles, oikawa was not amused, “only for the first few years. we want our artists to not have scandals at the start of their career. why? do you have a girlfriend?”

“i do, actually,” he says bluntly, uncaring as he leans back on the sofa.

“well you’re not the first artist we’re recruiting that’s in a relationship. we always give two choices, keep her a secret and hide her well, no appearances whatsoever or break up with her,” the agent shrugs, “honestly, the first option usually ends in the second one.”

oikawa does not like that one bit.

“now, if you’re willing to change your life, you can sign here,” she, the agent who’s name he’s forgotten says, sporting a professional business smile.

he wasn’t going to break up with you, that was oikawa’s resolve, but he was going to sign it, he’s already made a commitment to that decision to you and everyone in this room. he wouldn’t want to disappoint.

but he couldn’t resist going to you anymore, that’s why once he finally got some free time, around two weeks after signing with the agency, he got in his car and drove all the way to miyagi. he was going to surprise you again with his presence, although he doesn’t know if you’d be at your house or out with your friends but oikawa was exhausted and craving your presence, he couldn’t deny himself of you any more than he already has.

oikawa was in front of your door, aiming to knock since it’s a reasonable hour this time, after three knocks, instead of you, he was greeted by your father.

“[l/n]-san,” he bows respectfully, he hasn’t had many chances to talk to your father, or your mother, because of your strained relationship with them, you never really brought them up much.

“oikawa tooru, i’ve been meaning to talk to you about something,” your father clears his throat, oikawa tilts his head to the side, this is the first time your father has wanted to talk with him since you’ve been in a relationship, “we should..” your father looks behind him as if he was sneaking around, “talk somewhere else.”

the both of them end up in a local diner, oikawa insists for your father to order since he plans on paying for the food.

“you know my daughter has always been a bright kid, ahead of her age. she would take control of the things around the house— including her siblings whenever her mother and i were too busy,” your father smiles fondly, looking elsewhere as if recalling old memories.

oikawa smiles at the image of you making sure everything in your house was kept under wraps, “that’s one of the things i admire about your daughter, sir, she even keeps me in line.”

“she’s always been very smart and mature,” your father nods, “she knows what she wants and she’s never strayed from her goals of becoming a doctor..”

oikawa frowns, but you didn’t really want to be a doctor, and because of that, he could already tell that whatever point your father was trying to make, he wouldn’t like it.

“these past weeks she’s been bringing up discussions that weren’t originally part of her plan,” your father continues, “she has been talking to us about possibilities of continuing her studies in a different country.”

oikawa’s heart beats fast, he’s already connecting the dots, he’s feeling nervous but he’s also feeling touched that you’re thinking of following him to a whole different country. you were making plans that would make it so you could be with him.

“[name] has always been thorough with her plans. but ever since she found out that you were moving she's been changing her plans to fit you into it,” oikawa wanted to argue that your plans have always had him in it, “she's gotten into tokyo university— as you know, her dream school, on a full ride scholarship, she says she would take only one year there before moving but we— her mother and i, would hate it if she were to give it up completely. you’re understanding what i’m saying, right, tooru?”

oikawa steadily held the stern gaze of the older man, “you.. want me to..” his hands felt numb from clenching it, he didn’t even want to say it. why does everybody want to take you away from him?

“i want you to break up with her,” your father states.

oikawa feels like he’s been splashed with cold water, “no,”

“no?”

“i won’t break up with [name]. i can’t. i won’t,” oikawa shook his head, just the thought of breaking up with you made him feel sick, “i love her,” he said it in a whisper, fragile.

“think about her future, think about where her future would be better off. if you really love my daughter, you’d know what’s best for her,” your father still tries to convince him.

“and what’s best for her isn’t with me?” oikawa asks, fists still clenched under the table.

your father stood up to pat his shoulder, “you know what you have to do.”

"do i... is breaking up with her the only solution? can't i just talk her out of following me?" oikawa was starting to have tears in the corners of his eyes, he was so tired.

"do you think she'll listen?" no, oikawa thought. you wouldn’t listen. "you know my daughter almost as well as i do,” maybe even more, oikawa comments inside his head, “you know how stubborn she is.”

“i.. i need to go,” he excuses himself, hurriedly stands up and walks out the door of the diner and into his car as he starts the engine so he could drive away to cool his head. it was too much, everything happening was too much.

he didn’t know what to do.

he wants to call you.

he doesn’t want to call you.

if he doesn’t break up with you and you follow him, he has to keep you a secret, you would be fed up with it and the agent was right, it would end with the two of you breaking up, and it would be like you changed your whole life completely for nothing. if he breaks up with you now it would hurt, it would hurt a lot, but maybe.. maybe it would turn out better for you.

he laughs to himself, ah he was going crazy, he knew with either option you’re going to end up despising him, and he really can’t just say what he thinks you’ll do. he never knows.

he doesn’t know.

he was going to be an asshole, he already is. he‘s the one who keeps saying to be strong, that everything is going to be fine. but now, he’s the one who’s breaking first. in the end, he was the one who pushed you away, he was the one ruining everything.

masterlist — previous | next

✦ fun facts !

on the day where [name] was supposed to move into the dorms, she was planning to tell oikawa about her plans :)

nonsense ! an oikawa tooru social media au

synopsis. you were oikawa tooru’s #1 fan, until you became his #1 hater. you hated him so much you went viral on twitter (accidentally) and literally became known as “the oikawa tooru hater”, doesn’t help that he keeps fueling the fire by subtweeting you. everyone is all in for this new drama. what isn’t known to the public, is that this particular drama’s been on hold for three years (him being your ex and all).

a/n — sorry for the super long time since ive update guys, i still love u all ehe and i think ill post some bonus chaps, just random content before i go back into my cave cuz its exam week !!

taglist is open ! + (1/2) @kawaii-angelanne @ceneridiankaa @kittycasie @rukia-uchiha-98 @polish-cereal @kellesvt @rockleeisbaeeee @kashxyou @imsoluvly @jjulliette @tooruchiiscribs @littlefreakjulia @gomjohs @qualitygiantshoepsychic @mellowknightcolorfarm @konzumeken @migosple @kuroogguk @sangwooooo @katsu-shi @wolffmaiden @rijhi @2baddies-1porsche @yeehawcity @aishkaaa @crueldinasty @rintarousprincess @yyuiz @epeec28 @llamakenma @penguinlovestowrite @princelingperfect @hearts4faey @yoonabeo @pantherhappy @julia-1901 @godsbiggestmenace @angel-luv-04 @noideawhothatis @bethbat @natsvmie @luna-mothii @lylovw @apinu @leave-rae-alone @kamikokii @bananasquash @eitaababe @minimari415 @hanabihwa

[biguyonline]

‘Toru’s Girl

Pairings: Satoru x (Fem!)Reader and Suguru x Satoru x (Fem!) Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Reader is called girl, and girlfriend but is never physically described (besides having eyes lol), masturbation, possessiveness, mentions of inflicting pain, cursefucker!Suguru, mentions of likening oneself to a monster, Suguru smokes a cigarette, Satoru being an asshat. Space cadet, melodramatic Suguru experiencing a bisexual awakening and a breakdown.

Summary: Reader and Satoru Gojo are a new couple, Suguru Geto finds himself jealous of his friends for more reasons than even he knew. Follow Suguru as he unearths his deeper (darker) feelings for his friends.

Notes: All characters are aged up, it’s Jujutsu Tech College over here y’all. This entire fic is inspired by the shower scene, you know the one. The idea for this fic came to me while listening to this song. While writing it, I also thought of and listened to this song and this song.

Satoru is his friend. Suguru stood staring himself down in the mirror, having to remind himself. Sobering himself to his situation. The water on his body cooling, having met the air. It beaded up in his hair and rolled down his back. Grounding himself in his reality. His feet were cold on the tile floor of the bathroom. Satoru is his best friend. The only person that has been here for him. Satoru is the only person that’s been able to help him get used to the sorcerer world, this reality. So much has changed and it keeps changing. There’s nothing left to hold on to. Suguru’s awareness came back to the sound of the faucet still on. He watched the water hurdle down the drain. This time the change wasn’t hard to define. But that didn’t make it any easier.

Suguru watched your eyes, they were glued to Satoru. All while Satoru yapped on about some nonsense that probably only you could pretend to stomach. He could see his reflection in your eyes. The way the morning sun showed off the twinkle in your eye, Suguru could tell that not only did you want Satoru, but that you are just as much of a smartass as him. He could see the love, desire, and the smug comeback you had for Satoru all before the words left your lips. Suguru could stay lost in your eyes, if they would ever meet his gaze.

“Hey, man!” Satoru snapped his fingers in Suguru's face. “Are you sleeping enough lately?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Suguru shrugged and leaned back in his seat.

“We’re getting ice cream before I have to do a field assignment today.” Suguru couldn’t tell if you were rubbing it in his face or inviting him to be a third wheel.

“Come with us, get out of your dorm. The rest of your day is gonna be boring anyway.” Satoru’s gorgeous smile was full of teeth that were going to fall out of his head if he continued to let his sweet tooth take charge of his diet. Not that Suguru found himself to be one to talk, he had a collection of unhealthy habits. Maybe that’s what’s left of their humanity.

"I've got something better to do today than rot my teeth with you two.” Suguru lied. “But I'll make time." The smile he faked felt real for a passing moment.

Suguru walked behind you and Satoru on the way to the creamery. He'd gone with Satoru countless times before you started tagging along. So why was he the one "tagging along" now? He watched your hips sway as you walked. It made him sick. He couldn't help but imagine your hips rocking and swaying on his best friend's cock. Satoru's arm around you began to wonder. Groping you in public?! Satoru would be so audacious. The way Satoru's arm fit around you so well left a lonely spot around Suguru. In that moment Suguru wished someone would hold him like that.

You and Gojo split some obscene pile of sugar. Chatting, giggling. You were animated as you talked, it wiggled the booth Suguru was sharing with you. The side of your body rubbed against his. Suguru wanted to plant his hand on your thigh to steady you, to feel you. Suguru questioned if he’d ever find someone like you, or if he’d have to take you. Suguru smirked to himself, he could have you if he wanted to. He fought away the thought. Suguru felt dirty for wanting you so badly. You belonged to Satoru, and as much as Suguru tried to respect that, he couldn’t accept it.

Suguru found himself playing along. Pretending that you and he could share Satoru, that you and he could be just friends. He couldn’t find another way to have both you and Satoru in his life so why change things? He wouldn’t lose his best friend just to have you. Not in his right mind. It was painfully sweet to have the both of you at his side and yet just out of reach. There was no reason to tear down the dynamic you and Satoru had built. You were happy, and Suguru thought he could learn to be. Suguru pulled himself from his thoughts when he noticed the tone of the discussion had changed.

“You mad?” Satoru taunted you. “As far as I can tell, you don’t have an argument.” Satoru winked at you before going back to his side of the sundae milkshake you were sharing with him. Suguru found it hard to tell when the two of you were flirting or arguing.

“Satoru, you shouldn't pick on your girlfriend. You’re hardly hearing her out.” Suguru tutted.

“Who else am I supposed to pick on then? You?” Satoru challenged Suguru, a sugarcoated shiteating grin spread across his face. “Ya think you know how to treat my girlfriend better than me?” Satoru’s words cut deeper than he knew.

“That’s enough.” You put your foot down. “This has nothing to do with what we were debating” You rolled your eyes. “I was enjoying our discussion until you two derailed it. I’m the one who’s going to have to go deal with some cursed spirit later, can we please just have a nice time?” You reached out and touched both their hands. Suguru smiled and his heart fluttered when you smiled back.

“It’s irrelevant that curses exist in context with the regular public, when they can’t even see them. What does it matter that they see us?” Satoru cleared his throat and settled back into the discourse the two of you were having.

Suguru recognized his age-old gotcha question and it was Suguru’s turn to roll his eyes. But he kept his opinions to himself this time. Having already argued that very topic into the ground to no avail, he opted to watch you try your hand at it while enjoying his milkshake.

As the two of you continued to talk at length Suguru couldn’t help but start to compare himself to Satoru, and wonder what exactly it was you saw in his best friend. Satoru is smarter, and very handsome in a different way, but Suguru judged himself to be much more charismatic, polite, and in touch with his emotions. All things Satoru lacked. Satoru is shameless, rude, but admittedly confident. Satoru’s confidence and jovialness were definitely his charms. His unique looks were captivating. Satoru has those gorgeous eyes everyone knows about but Suguru wondered if anyone had seen them as up close and personal as he had. Surely no one else has felt how soft Satoru’s tousled hair is, except maybe he’d have let you. So many things are effortless for Satoru, and the long and lean form of his body accentuates his grace, Satoru has poise when he wants to. Other times he does come off as lanky and awkward, its purposeful Suguru supposes, he does it in an attempt to be humorous. Which Satoru is not so effortless in. Suguru treasures how hard Satoru tries to make him laugh.

Suguru shook his head. He lit a cigarette and sighed out his first draw as he watched you kiss Satoru goodbye. You split away from Suguru and Satoru disappearing into the sea of pedestrians, it was just the two of them now. Walking back to campus together. The heartbeat of nostalgia was flatlined with melancholy. It stung in his chest. The ache of carrying unspoken feelings used the smoke in his lungs to tie a knot in his throat. He felt like his hands had rope burn from holding on to old times.

“You could be here with me right now.” Satoru hinted, a small knowing smile on his face.

“What?” Suguru stammered, only having heard pieces of what Satoru said.

“You’ve been stuck in here more recently.” Satoru jabbed his finger at the side of Suguru’s head. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.” Satoru shrugged.

“No worries.” Smoke trailed from Suguru’s mouth.

“Yeah, because you definitely do all of that for me.” Satoru wrapped an arm around Suguru’s shoulders. “Maybe I could try doing some of the worrying for you.” Satoru offered.

“No, I’m fine.” Suguru instinctually pushed away what was happening as he started to get overwhelmed. Satoru’s eyes wandered behind his heavily tinted glasses. He noticed Suguru’s body language changed into something he didn’t recognize. Timidness? It didn’t suit Suguru at all.

“Then pretend I didn’t say anything.” Satoru sighed. His hand trailed down Suguru’s side. Suguru felt like he was trying to play it cool while a snake wrapped around him. Satoru’s hand settled on Suguru’s hip and Suguru let it stay there.

Suguru’s white knuckle grip clenched the sides of the sink. He thought maybe if he looked hard enough into the eyes of this alternate self standing in front of him that then maybe they could swap places. Maybe then, life would be easier. Life would be different. Why was he here alone in his dorm room? Especially now, when there was a chance in that alternate reality he was peering into, he was in Satoru’s room. No, in this reality he chose to be alone with his spiraling thoughts. What was that? He asked himself for maybe the thousandth time because his feet were too heavy to walk next door and ask Satoru why he did what he did on their walk here. What didn’t you see in him that you saw in Satoru? What did Satoru see in him? A friend? Or something more? How would that make you feel?

Wasn’t love supposed to be what you and Satoru had? Not whatever feeling was happening to Suguru. Still, the more he felt like a monster the closer he felt to finding what this feeling must be. Suguru often liked to think about his feelings. He liked to find the logic in them, to make sense of things, to make things right. He never thought it’d feel so good to feel wrong. Suguru was never one to let go of his senses. There was always a point, always a cause, always a reason. Something deep inside him was calling on him to let go. Maybe Satoru had finally gotten to him? Satoru never had a cause, never stood for anything but himself. Satoru had you because he was selfish enough to claim you as his. What was love if not the jealousy inside Suguru that had grown large enough to eat you both?

Suguru’s hair stuck to the back of his neck. He pulled his hair into a bun to get it off of himself and peeled off his damp shirt. If he kept thinking about you and Satoru he was going to have to shower for the second time today. His thoughts waivered, flickering between lust and intrusive memories of different exorcisms he had performed. What if he could exorcise you like a curse? What would you taste like? What would Satoru taste like? How would Satoru feel inside him? How would it feel for the two of you to be utterly consumed by him?

“Fuck.” Suguru groaned low and breathy when he finally acknowledged how his body was reacting to his thoughts.

Still frozen in the eye of his own storm he could hardly bring himself to move. His hand at his side slowly drifts towards his core. He sighs again as his fist wraps around himself. His hips instinctively rut against his hand. Suguru hisses through his teeth, he opens his eyes he didn’t realize he had closed as he tries to bring back a part of him that isn’t just an animal. He settles against the cold tile wall of the bathroom, tightening his grip when he decides to fully give in to himself.

He pulls himself free of his pants and already beads of precum throb out of him and flow through the spaces between his fingers. His muscles twitch and his breath shakes as he tames himself. He starts a rhythm that’s just steady enough to appease himself. His strokes have a twist to them, like he’s wringing the precum out of himself. He moans, biting his lip hard enough for it to sting.

Maybe Satoru had you, maybe Satoru wanted you, but Suguru needed you. Suguru could feel himself losing who he thought he was. Nothing would make sense anymore without you, without Satoru. That’s why he needed you, why he clung to you. That’s why he’d dig his nails into you until he drew blood, just to hear you scream his name. His cock pulsed in his hand at the thought. He scraped his thumbnail up from the base to the tip, following the engorged vein up his shaft.

The sounds of pleasure bounce off the bathroom walls, echoing around Suguru. He was surrounded by himself in more ways than one. His movements become sloppier, his rhythm increases to a brutal pace, the same way he imagines he’d fuck you. Overpowering, all consuming, a force you’d be powerless against. Suguru could hear you brainlessly begging as he fucked you stupid. He bet Satoru never hurt you, but he would, and you’d love it.

Suguru’s movements became erratic, his chest heaved and his mind raced. He was reaching a fever pitch and balancing on a razor sharp edge. He could feel the ghost of Satoru’s hand on his hip. He could see in his mind Satoru knelt before him. Suguru envisioned you next to him with a look of post-orgasm high kissing up and down his neck, all while your boyfriend Satoru sucked him off. Satoru was so high above everyone. Satoru was unreachable, and untouchable. If Satoru ever stooped down to Suguru’s level, Suguru would make him live to regret it. If it was a fair fight, Suguru would win. If Satoru ever showed a shred of humanity Suguru would crush it between his teeth and revel in the feeling of it oozing down his chin and neck. He’d make Satoru what he knew he was really born to be, the strongest curse of them all.

Suguru’s breathing stuttered at the thought of the two of you becoming curses, and living under his control. The two of you belong to him. A low moan rattled his chest as he came hard. Thick ropes of white cum spurt onto his chest. One lands on his chin, another on his chewed and swollen bottom lip. His tongue lazily swipes it up as he opens his mouth panting to catch his breath. He groans and peels himself off the wall. Leaning forward he turned the faucet handle to start a shower.

[fleuntet]

amor eterno

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader

summary: father’s day is an unbearable day for miguel. his daughter isn’t here, and no one knows how much he misses her.

warnings: angst cause it’s father’s day for pookie miguel

you barely knew miguel. throughly, you mean. you knew who he was, obviously. it was the basic things, the things he chose to show. you knew that he was sarcastic, angry, and secretive.

the day started as a normal one. missions, chatter, miguel staring off into his screens and nothing more. not much nonsense today as other days may be filled with it.

lyla had popped up near you, presenting herself with a cheery smile. saying your name, she said, “don’t get so worked up with miguel today. he’s in a mood.”

“isn’t he always?” you chuckled lightly, grabbing your breakfast.

she shrugged, debating whether she should tell you the truth. “eh, well…” her hesitation grabbed your attention. she was usually enthusiastic about sharing details of him or anyone really. but she was reluctant towards telling you this one thing.

picking up your plate, you walked around the lobby, making it to miguel’s “hideout” to what lyla calls it. while walking, you looked straight into lyla’s eyes, squinting them in almost a threatening looking way.

“what aren’t you telling me?”

“i’m not telling you anything.”

“so you chose to not be a chismosa today?”

rolling your eyes, you made it through all the junk through the hallway, stopping at the end of the road where all you can do is look up. you thought his attention would be at you, but it wasn’t. his eyes, looking straight forward into the middle monitor.

you expected it to be a video recording of one of the recent missions from jessica to stop an anomaly…but it wasn’t. it was of a little girl, small, brown haired, brown eyes, wearing a shirt of…was that soccer?

the little girl was smiling, giggling, the camera only focusing on her before it moved down. that’s when you could feel your heart rate rise. miguel. above him was his daughter, smiling just as he did — a rare sight you saw now. you don’t think you have ever seen miguel laugh, or smile even.

your brows furrowed, and without even realizing it, your hands slipped from your breakfast, causing a loud crash.

“oh, shit!” you muttered under your breath, but with all the space that surrounded you, it was loud as clear to miguel whose eyes turned immediately toward you.

filled with embarrassment, he quickly turned off the recording of him and his daughter, stopping midway in a laugh that the little girl let out. the last of her laugh echoed midway throughout the large space, making a small hint of guilt build up inside you. you never heard miguel talk of a little girl, ever.

maybe this was the very reason he was reluctant towards anyone, towards anything really. it never really occurred to you and you felt stupid. “canon events”, events that shape spider-man. and as you know, as he told you — being spider-man is a sacrifice.

“what are you doing here?” he asked, a demanding tone hidden inside his voice.

you tried to come up with a good reason as to why you decided to come find him, knowing that he told lyla to tell you, and everyone else, to leave him alone for the rest of the day today.

“just wanted to see if you needed any help today,” you added a fake smile as your voice faked a genuine tone. he knew that it was a lie. he knew that you cared about him. he didn’t want that. he didn’t need it. for everything he has done, why would he need-

“miguel, are you okay?” your eyes now showed its true emotion — worry. you knew this was the last thing he needed, he knew that too but honestly, you just couldn’t help yourself.

that’s one of the things he knew about you — you would always manage to see the good in people. no matter how sarcastic, angry, or secretive they can be. he knew that you would put time into actually figuring out what is going on to make him like this.

biting the inside of his cheek, he turned away from you. despite his reaction of obvious rejection, you rose your arm and swung towards his space. at the corner, you hesitated for a second whether you should go this far.

but if it meant that you could actually break his shell then it was worth it. you didn’t want to know the fake miguel, you wanted… needed to know the real him even if he is worse than what you think he is.

“miguel, was that your daughter?” your voice was as soft as a whisper. and even with that small voice, miguel couldn’t help but frown at it, at the question itself.

“yes,” he answered. “she isn’t alive if that’s what your wondering.”

you felt your heart break for him. nothing could be unbearable as losing a child. you may not know that feeling yourself, but seeing as children everywhere around you back home gather themselves around you as you swing around the city, you can’t imagine losing any of them.

a daughter — a connection with them is like no other. it’s not just a child, it was his. someone who steal hearts and takes it as their own. a child that you teach, that you adore and love. it’s like no other love.

“oh,” was the first thing that came out of your mouth. “miguel i am so so-“

“don’t.” he warned, holding out a hand against you, still not being able to look at you in the eyes.

with that, you knew you had crossed the line. pursing your lips together, you looked down at the floor, then at the frozen frame of the recording. she looked just like him. it was a beautiful sight.

grief is a hard thing. and sometimes space is all you can do to have someone at peace. and that’s what you did. as much as you wanted to comfort him, as much as miguel himself wanted it — it wasn’t the time.

so, without a word, you swang back, out of his courtiers and back into your own. the entire time you felt as if you needed to have his back, in some way, one way or another. if that can’t be in words, you thought of another way.

(x)

before the day ended miguel decided to quickly head through the lobby, checking in everything physically. that was a lie, really. he just didn’t want to be losing himself in more photos of him and his daughter. he loved gabriella with everything in his heart.

the last thing he wanted to realize was that the thing that makes him soft is the reason why he is so cold now.

after his quick check up he headed back into his usual spot, wanting to turn off all the monitors for the night. that was until he caught the attention of a white piece of paper that held itself with a piece of tape on his keyboard.

clenching his fists, he swiftly picked it up and looked down to read it. he has never read such words written to him in a comforting intention for so long:

“amor eterno e inolvidable. tarde or temprano estaré contigo para seguir amándonos.” happy father’s day miguel. i’m sure she wishes you one from where she is.

[sanjisluvbot]

Isekai Yandere Strawhats X Black Fem Reader 15

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Warning: Sanji is a little ooc

There were too many obstacles for you to overcome, everything felt like it was in slow motion. The two captains were face to face waiting to see who would make the first move. Cocky smirks and the pressure in the room intensified by now even momonosuke was scared to make a move.

You struggled to make a decision. Would it be better if they argued right now? No, you couldn’t mess up their alliance. Both the captains and their crews were informed how important of a milestone Wano would be, the fact that solely you could be the reason this turned sour irritated you. You put your nerves aside and broke free of Zoro’s hold splitting the two captains up by their shoulder.

“ We have bigger fish to fry, let’s stop with the nonsense please.”

They looked to you, then to each other, a silent agreement that this would be dealt with later on. Things were calm as the two crews discussed plans, plans that Luffy would fumble once again but as upset Law was he knew everything would be alright.

He was secretly so thankful you ended up in this world. He’s been think that for a while now, you gave him so much insight so quickly, it would’ve taken him so much more time to find certain things out. So many other plans and worries would’ve invaded his thoughts if you weren’t around. He was upset knowing Luffy would of course be the one to alert Kaido of their presence but they would come out victorious either way.

You decided that today would be a good day to spend time with the Strawhats, you knew they were hit on your tail when it came to Law. You were going to spend time with Sanji today, you did want to try his Ramen after all.

You helped Sanji set up and garner the attention of the women walking down the street. And when you both were taking a break he’d given you a hefty bowl and sat down watching you with a small smile.

“ Don’t watch me eat.”

“ But I think you’re beautiful when you eat.”

“ You think every women within a five mile radius is beautiful Sanji.”

“ That’s true but I think you look especially beautiful right now.”

Your eyebrow quirked up when he moved closer to you. He was leaning his elbow on his knee and just staring at you. “ Do you really need to watch me?” He nodded and took a cigarette out and handed you his gold lighter.

“ Why are you so flirty today?”

He shrugged his shoulders and patiently waited until you lit it for him. “ Y/N can we talk about something important?” You looked away to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes. You knew what it was about, But Sanji was never really one to push you on this subject.

“ Yea sure.” You might as well indulge him today.

“ Do you think the crew is… well… evil?”

You almost choked on your noodles, what a surprise question. “ I don’t know how to reply to such a question San-”

“ That itself is an answer Y/N.”

“ How so?”

“ You’re afraid to say yes or anything similar… it’s because you think I’m going to tell Luffy or Robin.”

You looked away again, you couldn’t tell where he was trying to take this conversation or what he really wanted you to say.

“ Can I speak with you honestly?”

“ I guess.”

“ I know that you hate us… for the most part. I also know that you’ve been planning something with Law, well we all figured that out.”

“ I have no idea what you’re-”

“ We aren’t dumb Y/N.”

“ So… what are you gonna do about it? You don’t even know what it is me and Law are doing together besides dating.”

He chuckled at that, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and throwing it to the ground. “ Y/N when Luffy went to your world, to bring you back here, he saw everything in your room.” You put your bowl down, and your hands found their way to each other, and you began to fidget. Sanji quickly noticed and held a hand over them to stop, leaning even closer.

“ These little books you had on a shelf, One piece, he took them all, gave them to Robin. We know everything about Wano and how it plays out.”

“ Isn’t that.. you know… a good thing?”

He nodded and continued, “ You know the misconception in your world that Luffy isn’t as smart as the rest of his crew? How do you think he was able to get to your world? Better yet Y/N do you think he was the only one who entered your world?”

You gasped, that familiar fear sinking feeling entered your stomach. You’d never gave this too much thought, you were in survival mode. Of course you personally never thought Luffy was dumb, I mean of course he was silly but so was the rest of the crew at times but it was very clear even on paper Luffy was smart.

He pulled his hand away from yours, giving you some time to settle with the fact that the entire crew most likely was in your home, in your world, and knew a lot more about you then they let on.

“ I’m not trying to scare you. I understand that you want to go home and you’d do anything to get there. I know we have been unfair to you but, we care about you so much.”

“ You don’t drug people you care about.” You hissed.

“ That’s true. But what we did to keep you here doesn’t matter what matters is what I’m about to tell you about Law.”

“ What could you possibly tell me about Law.” You laughed.

“ Law hasn’t been completely honest with you either. You don’t have to believe me but it’s the truth. When we were on the ship together Robin gave him the One piece books. You know he’s smart, he read them in just two days.”

“ He was with me the entire time, I mean if you’re going to try and lie make it believable I’m not dumb.”

“ But You’re not as smart as any of us.”

You cocked your hand back to smack him and he grabbed you with ease. “ Let go of me.” Tears welled up in your eyes, you didn’t want your trust in Law to waver, not after all you’d been through.

But there was just this slight feeling of unease, this feeling that Sanji was tell you the truth. But did that mean he was pretending? Did that mean he wasn’t going to really help you get home? You didn’t know what to do.

“ Why are you telling me this now? What’s the point? What do you want from me?”

“ I just want you to be safe, with us, your crew.”

“ I’m not a part of your crew! I only came here to take a break from my life and from test taking, instead you turned this into me having to escape from people I used to care about.”

Tears were threatening to fall, Sanji’s grip faltered and you snatched your hand from his and stepped away from him. He sighed and took out another cigarette lighting it himself.

“ Y/N-chan, isn’t it better to not have to worry about all those things. Don’t you enjoy the freedom you have in this world? Your world is miserable, that’s why people write fantasies about places like this, and you out of all people get to actually enjoy them… but you’re taking us for granted.”

“ I’m taking this for granted really? Do you hear yourself?”

“ No one else gets to travel and see the things you’ve seen, you could only see them in.. what was it called? Movies, yes movies. You get this chance and you spend it trying to get away from the crew you have collected books about and have posters and figures all around you little room.”

He stood up walking over to you, towering your over you narrowing his eyes as he continued to speak.

“ We took you in, made you one of us and as soon as we did that you wanted to go back to that shitty little life of yours. Luffy and his crew would never let their crew mate be taken… you know this so well Y/N- chan.”

“ I have a family in that world, I have responsibilities, and I have dreams that cannot be fulfilled here. This entire series is about freedom.. but for some fuckin reason I’m not allowed to have it.” You sobbed. The tears fell while he spoke and all you wanted to do was cower or run away.

You wanted to go back to Law, question him, and be told that Sanji was trying to manipulate you. This wasn’t even the Sanji you knew and loved, they were all such different people none of it made sense.

How could a crew that was so well put together, a crew that fought for the unfortunate and for freedom treat someone they claim to care about like they were an object that belonged to them. Sanji’s hand carefully made it’s way to your cheek, you flinched when he touched you to wipe away the tears that stained your skin.

He never wanted you to cry. That was never in his agenda, it was never in any of the crews either. They were overjoyed to have you onboard, you were a brand new light that illuminated their lives, no one else was like you for many reasons.

You were both on such different pages and no one could understand each other. The barrier that came between you was as thick as steel. The crew that was sailing through the grand line thought they gained a fun new crew member, and you thought god had cursed you and locked you in a prison cell for all eternity.

Sanji didn’t know where to go from here, should he tell you Law’s complete plan or should he continue trying to convince you to stay with them. All he really wanted was for you to stop crying, you were so pretty when you smiled.

In his eyes you were a goddess, when your hair was pulled into braids showing the world every inch of your face, every expression, every little mark big or small he couldn’t keep his eyes from you. Or when your hair was free and the curls surround your face giving you a youthful glow. When you were tanning with Nami and he got to see your figure and the way the sun made your skin glow, you were loved by the sun and there were times where he almost tripped over his own feet when your eyes met his.

His heart raced when he was around you and his heart broke hearing the crack in your voice and the tears steam from your eyes like little rivulets.

“ I’m sorry I made you cry Y/N… we can talk about something else if you want.”

“ I don’t feel like talking anymore. I need to find Law to put my heart at ease.”

“ Can I just tell you one more thing about Law before you go?”

“ Fine.” What else could he possibly say at this point that would make you feel any different.

“ When you were busy, or went to sleep, Law was with Robin, reading and studying your world. Robin had told him about when we visited and he knows everything about your world. He could’ve brought you back ages ago.”

At that last sentence you choked on air. Your head pounded and your eyes burned from more tears falling. You pushed Sanji away and ran into the first direction you could focus on.

Lies. He’s lying.

There is no way Law would keep the fact that he knew how to get you home, Not only that but the Strawhats themselves knew there was a way for you to go home and stay there and instead of telling you they told Law?

When you were far away enough, in the forest you stopped to breathe. This was another manipulation tactic. They wanted you away from Law so that you couldn’t get home and just stay trapped here forever.

“ I need to find Law.”

🏷️: @herwritingartcowboy @axulaphie @toshirolovebot @futmblr @rhicambo @marim0cha @sasukeswife3 @mitskikinnie100 @alaurannara @angstylittleb1tch [ anyone else that wants to be tagged please Pm me and I’m so sorry if I missed you 😗 ]

A/N: long overdue, I kind of want to do a mini chapter about what the Strawhats did in Y/N’s world. We also have that extra chapter with Law as well. I’ll put both of these under one shots <3 hope you enjoyed ! You know I love to hear your feedback it’s what motivates me so please tell me every little thought and reaction !!!

[owatazumi]

cartwheels. prompt 7

prompt 7: “lookin’ at you got me thinking nonsense, cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in” w/ jungwon

genre: fluff, school au

warnings: not proofread, tell me if there’s something i missed.

a/n: thank you for requesting @soobywon and i hope i didn’t make you wait for too long !!

july 15.

the classroom was empty since everyone left by now because schools over but for some odd reason you had the urge to study even harder longer today which is why you’re now sitting here.

“don’t stay until 6 yn. mrs kang needs to close the doors by then, got it?” your teacher peaks his head through the door once again to check if you understood what he had told you as he swings his bag over his shoulder and sends you one last nod and turning to leave after you promise him to not stay for too long or cause any problems. “alright, yn. i trust you.”

—

after studying for a good amount of time you pack up your things and head out of your classroom. the lights in the hallways were still lighted and from around a few corners you could hear wheels screeching and a soft hum which indicated that T, every students favorite janitor, was still around so you’re not alone.

as you make your way down the hallway a door suddenly opens, revealing yang jungwon.

you know who yang jungwon is.

everybody does.

he lets a hand go through his hair as a makes his way past you, only sending you a quick smile and a soft yet kind “hey, y/n” and that was all that it needed for some cartwheels to start turning in your stomach.

“hey jungwon…” you respond in a shy tone, voice softly breaking from how nervous you were. it was always like that when he interacted with you…nervously you’d start to fidget with your clothes, you’d bite your lip, you couldn’t stand still and you’d start to sweat. a perfect impression.

“see ya tomorrow” all of this happened in just a few seconds but for you it felt like hours yet as soon as he came, he was already gone…

“yeah— see you tomorrow, jungwon…” the cartwheels in your stomach were a familiar feeling, you’ve grown comfortable with it but for some reason you can’t shake off the feeling that he does it on purpose.

—

<33

a/n: thank you for being so patient with me ! once again, i hope this is okay. i wrote this as quickly as possible rn which is why i didn’t check for errors either💀

@j-wyoung @echoofnoise00

[bedofthistles]

For @incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre with Deep love and appreciation for all you've done and continue to do for the fandom

Fairytales are some of the most important works of fiction known to man. While commonly disregarded, overly saturated, and disney-fied, Fairy tales provide the basis for understanding human history. The examination of politics, religions, culture, and a singular thread that pulls nations together. For if one fairy tale was told in Europe, rest assured that many other cultures would have shared similar fables, even if they had never told their stories to the other. Warnings for children, for emperors and kings, the very basis for literature itself, the fairy tale is not something easily overlooked, but is the base of modern community. After all, what brings humanity closer together than rooting for the common goal? Of good rising above evil, true love, and a bit of magic to pull it all together. 

*

Maria wove between the rows, holding a red apple in her hand. Perhaps a bit over dramatic, but she wanted it to serve her point. “We have many reasons to thank fairytales, for the symbolism they offer, the lessons. For this reason-” Maria paused before her desk, tossing the apple into the air before catching it. “I would like you to write your own fairy tale.” Que groans. Maria smiled. “I want this to include several things, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves and write everything. Some stories offer political critique, others warnings; I want something unique. You may borrow ideas, such as sleep curses, but please do your absolute best to be original. Grades will be based on creativity, the substances of the story itself, hidden themes, and of course grammar and other such English nonsense.” 

There was a spatter of laughter from some of her favourite students. 

“The assignment is due Friday and your time starts-” Maria shook her wrist until her watch faced up. “Now.” 

There was the flutter of paper and hushed voices as ideas were spread around, or quiet worry at the idea of having to write something for English. The horror. 

Maria tossed the apple one last time before rounding her desk and taking a seat. 

*

At three on the dot, Maria opened the door to her class, unleashing her students upon the world, watching them run free as the school day came to an end. At the same time, across the hall, Mr. De Noir’s classroom door flung open, and his students made hers appear as well mannered and polite little angels.

Mr. De Noir leaned in the doorway, his arms crossed as he sent a smirk her way. “Miss Merryweather.” 

Maria lifted a brow. Why her uncle had even hired him on the staff she would never understand. He was hardly a respectable teacher, half the time she had to send a student across the hall to tell his to settle down, and he was never dressed up to code. 

Kitten heels, a pencil skirt that hit right above her knees, and a blouse, Maria at least appeared professional. She couldn’t remember the last time she had thought ‘oh yes, let me don jeans to go to work, that’s appropriate,’ and yet there he was. Rumpled denims, a wrinkled button up that wasn’t tucked in, even his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows. 

The students adored him, and yes he had amazing recommendations, and credentials, but that did not mean he was Moonacre material. She just knew the old headmistress, Jane Heliotrope, would never have put up with his misconduct. 

“Did you start them on their assignment today?” Maria asked cordially, because someone had to be looking out for the students. 

“What? The fairy tale stuff?” He nearly scoffed. “Yeah, we’re saving that as a free write on Friday.”

Maria’s jaw dropped, “Wha- what do you mean by that? You’re completely disregarding the curriculum?” 

He gave her a laugh, “Oh, c’mon, you know that’s a guide more than anything.”

“Right.” Maria crossed her arms, “And I bet you aren’t having any kind of lesson gearing up to Friday? About the cultural and historic importance fairytales have on society and literature?” 

His smirk deepened, “Nope.”

“So what on earth did you teach them on? If you were able to teach them anything?” Maria asked. 

“The importance of communal and oral traditions. Then we discussed.”

Maria rolled her eyes, because ‘discuss’ was just his excuse to let the class go wild. “That sounds more like a history lesson.”

He shrugged, “History and literature, unfortunately, overlap.” 

Maria bit her tongue and glared, “Right. And you refused to teach on fairy tales because…?”

“Because, Princess, fairy tales have a different kind of connotation nowadays.”

Maria bristled at the nickname. It had started when he had learned the headmaster was her Uncle…

Well, it wasn’t particularly hard to guess that they were related, due to their last names being the same, but he assumed that she had been a legacy hire when that couldn’t be farther from the truth! In fact, she had been hired by Ms. Heliotrope a year before her retirement and Benjamin’s promotion. 

“But that is the exact reason we're supposed to be teaching on them! To disrupt their previous notions!” Maria flung her arms out to further make her point, but she knew she was just getting more and more frustrated, while he kept smirking at her. 

“And that’s why we slowly work up to calling them fairy tales, so by the end of the week, they have a full grasp and understanding of what a fairytale is beyond the Disneyfication.” He clapped his hands together, “Right, I have a long week ahead, and you, I’m guessing have some studying to do? Since you’re not doing any work to mould the curriculum to your class so they can reap the most of it.” 

He turned, the door to his class shut before she could get another jab in. But she stood in the hall, slightly impressed, but mostly irritated. Her thoughts wandered to her Uncle, but telling on a fellow teacher was childish, and she could handle him herself. 

*

“But I knew it was him! His thoughts and ideas getting into their heads.” Maria complained, her eyes narrowed and arms crossed, she hunched over herself on the garden bench sitting outside her Uncle’s home. 

Benjamin had never bothered with the upkeep of his garden, he had simply just let it grow wild over the years, but that summer, he had taken an odd interest in it. Removing all the weeds and ploughing the dirt, he replanted the areas that had once been overgrown grass with growing thyme, and the garden beds with geraniums, of all colours, but primarily salmon pink. 

It was better than his other hobbies: sulking or drinking. 

“That’s not appropriate,” Benjamin said, removing a dirtied glove from his hand. 

“No, it’s annoying.” Maria rolled her eyes. “And I have no idea when he did it! I mean, we were barely speaking yesterday about the curriculum, and today I hear my students talking about how the ideas of fairy tales have been corrupted by modern understanding and Disneyfied! Those are the exact words he used! Can you believe it? I mean, opening his office hours to my students in some lame attempt to contradict what I’ve already taught them.” 

“Well, I can’t let him scalp your students.” 

Maria rolled her eyes, “It doesn’t matter, I’ll tell him off tomorrow morning and we’ll just have to go from there.” Maria reached over and picked a globe of geraniums before tucking it behind her Uncle’s ear. “So pretty.”

He gave her a glare, but over the years it had lost any ferocity it once held. 

*

Maria stood in front of the kettle, waiting for it to go off, her cup all but ready with her tea bag, when a dark presence slid next to her. 

“I knew you just couldn’t resist.” 

Maria breathed out deeply, calmly, as in the corner of her eye Mr. De Noir leaned against the counter next to her. “Resist what?”

“Using your nepo baby powers to get me in trouble, are you disappointed I didn’t get sacked?”

Maria sighed, lifting the kettle as the light went from green to red, and poured her steaming water into her cup. “Mr. De Noir, I have no idea-”

“My office hours got taken from me.” 

Maria paused, but finished pouring and refilled the kettle. She stuck a fist on her hip and turned to look at him. “What? But I didn’t-”

“And I’ve been placed over the after school detention for the next two weeks-”

“But I didn’t-!”

“And Saturday!” He didn’t glare at her, no he would never, but where he was usually teasing and lighthearted, he seemed genuinely upset with her. 

And then it hit her. 

It was her fault. 

She placed a hand over her mouth. 

Benjamin. 

“Oh, now she remembers.” He looked away from her, discontentedly, into the empty teacher’s lounge. “Y’know, my students make good use of those hours, and unlike you, I have plans on the weekends.” 

“You don’t know what I do after school.” She muttered, her first reaction to defend herself. “Mr. De Noir, I- I didn’t- I’ll fix this, I promise, and until then, tell your students they may come to me during my office hours.”

Mr. De Noir gave her an odd look as he examined her face. 

“What?”

“I- you seem genuinely concerned.” He said. 

Maria rolled her eyes, “Yes, well when I was complaining to my Uncle I thought I was complaining to my Uncle, not Headmaster Merryweather.” She glared, crossing her arms. Goodness, how would she even broach this? She supposed she’d have to schedule a meeting, and go from there-

“Merryweather? Don’t go catatonic on me.” 

Maria broke out of her thoughts and gazed up at Mr. De Noir, she reached out to touch his shoulder, and in all sincerity said, “I will fix this.” 

He cracked a grin, “Don’t need to get all noble on me, Merryweather, it’s just two weeks. And technically I deserve it.”

“It isn’t bad for students to get multiple perspectives… sometimes.” 

He shrugged, and Maria realised she still had her hand on her arm. She snatched it away, her cheeks suddenly feeling warm, before Mr. De Noir reached out and handed her cup to her. 

“From my understanding, Merryweather’s are pretty stubborn, so good luck getting him to change his mind.” Then, he turned and left her alone in the teacher’s lounge, with a swiftly cooling cup of tea. 

She added some sugar cubes, and sped walked her way to her Uncle’s secretary, demanding to speak with him during her open hour. 

*

After an hour, Maria closed her office. 

A few of her students, and a few of Mr. De Noir’s students, had come to speak briefly with her, but beyond a few simple questions about tropes and symbolism, there were no deep inquiries. She had on her coat, and her briefcase in her hand, but when she looked across the way into Mr. De Noir’s dark classroom, a twinge of remorse pinged in her heart. 

With a singular and sudden determination, Maria made her way to the detention hall, which was actually just the meal hall, but was used for detention at set times. 

When she walked in the hall, a bit too proudly, the door swung out and banged against the wall, the sound of it echoing across the empty room and eight heads turned her way. Even Mr. De Noir, who had been sitting on top of one of the tables, slouching as much as he could while not lying on it, popped up at her entrance. 

Maria did her best not to let embarrassment wash over and kept her confidence as she came in, set her bag down on the floor, removed her coat, and joined Mr. De Noir on the table. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, looking up at her with a strange mix of reverence and bafflement. 

Maria shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I couldn’t convince my Uncle to let you go.” 

He huffed a laugh. “Told you.” 

Maria nudged his knee with hers. 

“Okay, so message received?” 

“It’s a bit boring, isn’t it?” 

Robin scoffed, finally pulling himself up off the table and leaning onto his knees. “Yes, for me, who's trapped here, but not for you.”

Maria checked her watch, “Only forty-five minutes left?” 

He grabbed her elbow and pulled her arm towards his face. “Just about.” 

“Well, I’d like to discuss our- differing takes on the curriculum with you.” She cleared her throat. “To give our students the best chance they have with their learning opportunities.” 

He quirked a brow. 

“Well, for example, you say Disneyfied like it's a bad thing.”

“Because it is.” 

Maria shook her head, “But would you not agree that all fairytales and myths evolved with the times, the elements changing with what was needed?”

A slow smile breached his features. “One could say that.”

“And, well, perhaps what the children of our time need is something a bit more hopeful than what original fairy tales tend to offer?”

“Or, we need to stop babying children, and let them watch things that will actually be beneficial to their mental development.” 

They continued on that way for a time, the argument never actually turning to be about their lesson plans, and even after Mr. De Noir dismissed the students, they continued on until they reached the parking lot. 

“I’m sorry again,” Maria said, knowing it was time to part but not really wanting to. “About the whole detention business, I never intended that.”

Mr. De Noir shrugged nonchalance, “It’s alright, I’ll just get you back.”

Maria twisted her lips to avoid smiling. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be the one across the hall.”

*

There was very little one could do about rumours, and once they did get started, there was not much one could do beyond fan the flames. 

It was rather unfortunate for both Miss Merryweather and Mr. De Noir that one of the students in detention was a girl who had a friend in Ms. Merryweather’s class, who had often made the very keen observation that there was a certain chemistry underlying their quips and hallway fights. 

So of course, as soon as Ms. Merryweather stormed detention, and stayed by Mr. De Noir’s side for the duration, it was only her right to text her friend the developing story. 

The next morning, before class had even begun, all of Ms. Merryweather’s waiting class knew about the circumstances, and even without speaking a word, seemed to be in unilateral agreement. 

*

“Mr. De Noir!”

Robin paused his instruction at the whiteboard, turning back to see one of Ms. Merryweather’s students hanging in the door. 

“Yeah, do you need something?”

“Um-” The girl squeaked, “Ms. Merryweather needed your help in the supplies room. She said something about heavy boxes?”

Robin played with the marker in his hand. That wasn’t the Merryweather he knew. That woman would break her back before asking for his, or anyone’s, help. He put the cap on. “Lex, you’re in charge.” 

There was some grumbling about that decision, but he ignored it as he came to the door, holding it open for the student before shutting it behind him. He watched, rather suspiciously, as she stood by Merryweather’s class but didn’t go inside. When she looked back over her shoulder, he lifted his brows, and she squeaked before ducking into class. Then, when he peered into the windows, each and every head, which had been turned to watch him, snapped back to the front. 

Robin smirked, he could smell a plot a mile away, but who was he to foil their brilliant schemes? 

He wasn’t too surprised to hear the door opening again once he reached the end of the hall, and he was careful not to look back at the sound. It almost made him giddy, and he wondered if this was just the distraction, to get him out of class so something could be done in the ten minutes he’d be gone? Or, if he was walking into the trap.

Ms. Merryweather, he had no doubt, hadn’t played any part of it, as she would never encourage this kind of behaviour. 

As Robin walked into the supply room, he saw no sign of Merryweather, but then there was a sound of surprise, a fluttering sound like a flock of frightened pigeons taking flight, and a louder  smacking that came from the paper closet. Robin turned, just in time to see Merryweather being clouded in stacks of paper as they fell to the ground. 

“Mr. De Noir!” She choked. 

He chuckled, moving in on her and kneeling to start collecting the papers on the ground. 

“You don’t have to-”

“No, don’t worry, I know it was my fault-”

“No! No, I was being-” 

And then the door slammed shut. 

“Oh my god, what did you do?” Merryweahter asked, immediately turning on him to accuse him. “I had the door propped-” 

“I didn’t do anything! It-” Then, Robin sighed. “It’s the students.” Robin stuck his hand in his pocket to pull his phone out, but his pocket was empty, in fact all of his pockets were empty, he would learn, as he uselessly patted at them. “Do you have your phone?”

“Um-” Merryweather made a vague gesture to the little table outside, where he had passed her keys and yes, now that he thought about it, her phone had been there as well. 

“So we’re stuck.” 

“Well- I-” Merryweather looked down at him. “Yes, I guess we are. Fuck.”

“Language, we’re at school.” Robin mocked as he went back to stacking the papers.

“Right, sorry.”Maria shook her head and knelt down next to him, gathering papers and replacing them in the box she had tipped over. 

“You ever learn how to take a joke?” 

Merryweather pursed her lips. “I can take a joke, when it's made between friends.” 

“Oh, that smarts.”

Merryweather looked at him and scoffed. 

“What?”

“Are you implying we’re friends?” 

“Of course not, I’m your mortal enemy.” 

Merryweather cocked a brow, “My mortal enemy? And I’m not yours?” 

Robin smirked. “You don’t get under my skin the way I get under yours.” 

“What am I then? If not your mortal enemy?” She said, with a slight challenging glare.

Robin pretended to give it great thought. “Academic rival?” 

“Oh good, I didn’t think I’d be held in such high regard to be considered a rival.” 

He snorted. 

She smiled. 

“So, when do you think they’ll let us out?” Robin whispered, after the papers were tidied, and they had taken to sitting on opposite sides of the closet, her legs stretched out before her, ankles crossed neatly. 

“Who?” Merryweather asked, leaning forward as she whispered back. Her plan had been sending out a sheet of paper with a note written on it under the door, their only hope being another teacher would pass through and free them. 

“Our students.” Robin cuffed his hand over his mouth. “They’re up to something.” 

She stared at him blankly. “What do you mean?” 

“One of your students came to my class saying you needed help.” 

Merryweather scoffed, “Surely you knew that was a lie.” 

 Robin nodded, “Of course, as soon as she said you wanted my help.”

Merryweather fought a smile, crossing her arms as she looked out to the door. “So why did you come?” 

“I encourage mischief every once in a while, besides I figured they had sent me away to do something to the classroom, not lock me in a closet with my academic rival.” He nudged his knee against her foot. 

“You should give them all detention, they basically got a free period out of us.” 

Robin shrugged, leaning his head back against the shelves. “Who knows? That might be a good thing.” 

It wasn’t until a few minutes before the bell rang that good old Henry came to let them out, an odd and slightly suspicious look on his face. 

*

“Now, I’m not mad, just disappointed.” Maria said, more or less quoting her Uncle. 

She had only been lightly reprimanded for being locked in the closet and abandoning her students, but Robin seemed to, once again, take the full brunt of the punishment, as Benjamin assigned him another week of detention watch. 

“However, as punishment, Mr. De Noir and I have decided to extend your projects.” Maria beamed as her students groaned, she knew just across the hall, Robin was giving the same speech, something they had planned together after Maria closed her office hours, and came to him with a proposition in detention. “We will no longer be only asking you for an original fairy tale, but would instead ask you to perform it in the amphitheatre before both classes.” 

There was a devilish look on her face as her class got uproarious, and she let them settle before she spoke again. “The deadline is now extended to next Friday, however tomorrow I would like a first draft turned in. You may form groups of two to five, choose one fairy tale, and work out the logistics.” 

“The fairy tale we wrote, or any fairy tale?”

“Your fairy tale, Marissa.” Maria smiled. “And since yesterday you all had a free period, today will be a lecture day-” More moaning, “-Please pull out your notebooks, and we’ll begin.” 

*

Saturday, the parking lot was nearly empty save his car. 

Maria parked not next to him, but close, as she popped out, her scarf wrapped warmly around her throat. This new plan was risky, but she felt she owed it to him. 

He would protest of course, and he would tell her to go away, but it didn’t sit right in her heart. So of course, when she marched into the detention hall, Robin looked up and rolled his eyes. He slid off the table, leaving his book behind and met her half way. 

“Here to plot against our students again?” 

“Nope.” Maria said, removing her scarf and wrapping it around her hands, “I’m here to free you.” 

Robin’s smirk softened, “You know I’m on the clock for this and you’re not?” 

“I’m working on grading this morning.” Maria held up her briefcase. “It's just a change of location.” 

Robin rolled his eyes, “You would work on a Saturday.” 

“Yes, and you said you had plans, so go on, go.” Maria attempted to walk him around before he reached out and grabbed her arm. 

“What are you doing, Maria?”

She smiled, “Rescuing the damsel.” 

“Dam- Now hold on there, Merryweather, if anyone’s the damsel it’s you.”

“Oh?” Maria popped her hip, “How so?” 

Robin opened his mouth to list off the countless examples that would mark him as the daring hero, but he rather came up empty. 

“You’re the one trapped in the tallest tower, not me.” 

“I am not trapped here.”

“Precisely, go on, I’m rescuing you, go on, leave. I have dragons to slay.” 

He scoffed. “I can’t, I’ll get in more trouble.” 

Maria shrugged, “I won’t tell Headmaster if you don’t.” 

Robin struggled not to smile. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will.”

“Y’know, usually it's the other way around, the handsome young hero saving the princess.” 

Maria shrugged, “I rather like Cupid and Psyche.”

Then, there was something about the way his eyes lit up at her words that made her heart flutter, her stomach pitch, and her mouth run dry. Had that been a mistake? To imply that they were- that she was doing this out of- 

“This isn’t fair.”

“It’s perfectly fair.” Maria argued, “I was in your debt, now I’m not.” 

He shook his head, “You’re going to get me in trouble.” 

“I thought you liked mischief.” 

Robin smiled, and before Maria could make another comment, he reached out and squeezed her arm. “I still feel like I owe you for this, but thank you.” 

She almost thought he was going to lean down and kiss her, her cheek, ot temple, or her lips, but he turned and went back to get his book and jacket. 

Maria watched him leave, the door shutting behind him, and then the empty air for a few seconds before she glanced at the students, who were doing their best to avoid her eye and trying to stifle grins. 

She cleared her throat and got to work reading the fairy tales. 

*

Monday morning, she attempted to speak with her Uncle again. 

“Really, he doesn’t deserve any of it, and I know you said that you had to set standards, but this is ridiculous! Not even the students get this much detention!” She had started sitting down, but at some point she had gotten up to pace madly to and fro. “I mean it’s not just a detriment to him, but his students! Though not many of his students have taken me up on my offer, they may not feel comfortable with it! And beyond that, there’s usually a very fair rotation for the detention slots, and I think it’s been a while since it was my turn! And the closet thing wasn’t his fault! He only came in to help me, it’s not like he did it on purpose, that’s hardly worth another week of detention!”

“Maria-”

“I would understand if he had locked me in there, but he was trapped just as much as I was!”

“Maria-”

“And we both settled on how to discipline the students who, I already told you, were the real culprits!”

“Maria!” 

Maria jumped, her hand on her heart the other grasping the back of the chair. “Yes?”

“If you would really like to, I can take over some of his detention-”

“Oh really? You will!” Maria raced around the desk, wrapping her arms around her Uncle’s head and neck. “Oh thank you! I felt so guilty about all of it!” 

“Right.” Her Uncle muttered. “Guilt.” 

*

Robin sat on his desk, laughing as one of the students shared a more or less irrelevant story with the class which kind of had to do with fairy tales, when Maria knocked on the door and came into class. 

“Mr. De Noir, do you have a moment?” She asked, and some of the students had the audacity to laugh or gently ‘oooh!’ at his departure. 

He followed Maria out into the hall, mindful to stand in front of her so his students couldn’t get a good look at her facial expressions through the window. 

“I believe my debts are paid.” Maria beamed, “Mostly.” 

Robin cocked his head to one said. 

“I slayed the beast. Headmaster Merryweather said he would take over detention next week.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do- how did you-?” Robin cut himself off with a scoff, she was unbelievable. “Damn, I really was the damsel.”

“Language.” Maria’s eyes flashed to the window behind him, and when he took a look, the students ran away from the window and back to their seats. 

“You didn’t- You really didn’t-” He clenched his hand at his side, tempted to touch her again, tempted to wrap her in his arms and pick her up off the floor and spin her around. Instead, he marvelled at her, his eyes wide, his mouth open like an idiot, and he couldn’t look away. 

She blossomed under his gaze, her cheeks pinkening, her eyes glistening with pride. 

“You’re amazing.” 

*

Miss Merryweather kept Mr. De Noir company for the rest of his detention periods, the students noticed, and word spread very quickly. Some students, rather foolishly, got themselves in trouble so they would have to go to detention, so they could report back.

And it was very interesting how close they sat, and how often they gazed into each other's eyes without speaking, and how close they came to touching the other only to stop themselves before they got too close. 

The reports from detention made their way around, from student to student, until even the teachers heard, and placed their bets. 

“No, they’re both too stubborn,” Ms. Swann said, “Neither will admit to anything until it's unbearable.”

“Don’t underestimate Robin, he’s rather determined, and once he wants something that’s it.” Mr. Turner said. 

“But Maria has much more class than that.” Mrs. Fitzwilliam said. 

“That doesn’t mean she’ll deny herself the pleasure of a man’s company, especially one that looks like him.” Ms. Thomas suggested. 

And, inevitably, word got back to Headmaster Merryweather who was not completely unsurprised by the developments, after all he saw too much of himself in his niece. Falling in love with a supposed enemy was practically a family trait.

*

Maria sat down in the amphitheatre, her students settled and the first group ready to go, her rubric out on her clipboard, while Robin leaned back on the bench behind them, his own rubric off to the side as her students went first. They had a box of props and costumes for the students to use, and yes the girls did fight over who got to wear the pearls, and there was a massive disagreement on who got the sword with each group that came up. Whether or not the story had anything to do with swords. 

They watched each class file in, as they were instructed to come straight to the amphitheatre, and file out once they were done, though Robin and Maria hardly paid attention as they did. 

There was many a giggling, many a stare, and a many whispering that made their way across the classes, but Maria didn’t particularly care to take notice. 

She was too busy trying to ascertain if his knee pressed into her thigh was an accident or if he was doing it on purpose, and if his eyes were on her the whole day instead of any of the performances, and if he was arguing because he really disagreed with her or just for the sake of arguing. But when the final bell dismissed their last class, neither Robin nor Maria rose up to leave. They stayed, seated on the stone benches, her elbows on her knees, her chin in her hands as she stared up at him. 

There was something so captivating about his eyes when he spoke, something pleasant when his mouth moved, something enigmatic about how he motioned with his hands.  

“Tomorrow is your last day of detention.” Maria said, when an hour had passed and neither had moved. 

“Yes, and you don’t have to storm the castle for me.” Robin looked up at her as she stood to gather her things. “Hermes doesn’t have to tell me all the work you’ve done to make up for it.” 

She felt herself blush, because there it was again, this odd comparison. “Well, one could argue that my three dangerous tasks are complete.”

“Dangerous?” He grinned at the incredulous insinuation.

“Well, when one goes up against a man like my Uncle.” She twisted her face into one of horror and Robin laughed. “Though, I am afraid I will remain his servant forever.” 

“Yes, I suppose going up against him is quite daunting.” 

“Daunting indeed. But-” Maria bit her lip, turning away to look out at the amphitheatre. “Did I manage to fix the rift of my betrayal?” 

Robin stood and took her hand, “There was never anything to fix.”

If any students had stayed behind, they would have seen Mr. De Noir lean down to kiss Ms. Merryweather, and if any teachers had walked by on their way to the parking lot, they would have seen the two running off hand in hand like teenagers, and if Headmaster Merryweather had looked out the window of his office, he would have seen Mr. De Noir press Ms. Merryweather against her car as he kissed her again and again, but no did, and no one saw them getting into their cars and following each other out of the parking lot, and on Saturday, despite his best attempts, Ms. Merryweather came again, but she did not come to rescue him a second time. Rather, she sat with him, and if the students noticed they were sitting too close to one another, or that they held hands under the table, they kept their thoughts to themselves. 

*

Fairytales are some of the most important works of fiction known to man. They offer life lessons, human connection, magic, and some of our favourites: love. 

Not every fairy tale has a happily ever after, not every fairy tale ends with true love’s kiss, but who could argue that the most captivating ones have just a touch of that special magic? Not fairy godmothers, trickster sprites, or devils, but a very human emotion, a lasting emotion, one that resonates and rings throughout the centuries. 

@stabat-mater @theargopriestess @maybeamagpie @hotpotatoburn @lalla0019 @immergladsss

[abreecakes]

Change Me Chp. 2 ( BOOK - AMO ERGO SUM )

Change me

To pander, to favorite

We sat in the cave waiting for the next wave of torment AM would give to us, but he did not respond to us. ‘ Is he finally bored, or has he run out of ideas? ‘ I thought. I start to piece that y/n was missing and AM not planning another trick. Benny was to my right saying things in his poor vocabulary. Why is he saying nonsense, he’s probably hallucinating again about escape. “ LOOK, LOOK UP! Y/N UP! “

“ It would seem he’s trying to say Y/n is above us. “ the Nazi popped in squinting his eyes to try to see a door, but couldn’t make any image of it. I really don’t understand why these four still think there is any type of hope or escape, it’s so frustrating to me to get hopes up and then torment comes right after. But Y/n may have a chance to have mercy I guarantee that.

Ellen was still sleeping from exhaustion and her germs bruised from falling off the edge of a loose edge AM made us climb. My poor Ellen… Sometimes I can get used to seeing her body smashed in or her skin burned. The funny thing is I thought halfway in this prison I would get used to this. Everyday just waiting to get destroyed and put back together, I WAS SO, SO WRONG. It’s like my body is begging to be destroyed right after I’m put back together. Though Am just decides to have Mercy on that twat for no reason, I don’t get it, I CAN'T MAKE SENSE of it.

A hand grabbed my shoulder, “ You’re doing it again, stop thinking so much or you’ll end up more lost than the chimp. “ Gorrister said. I got along with everyone on a normal basis, by how much time we spent together at this point were practically brothers and sisters. We told our whole rotten lives, and well Nimdok would just sit there and have flashbacks of his life. We see him as a Jar-head more than one of us, hell we even like BEnny’s company more than his.

Gorrister broke the silence, “ Ted… Do ya think that she’s really up there. I mean we’ve seen AM be lenient on her punishments but this time I think, I really think there working together. Ain’t he always complainin’ about how he’s not human “. I already knew what he was trying to say, but AM doesn’t even tolerate us not being scrambled into bits or falling into a trap. Has that snake betrayed her humanity and subjected herself to the very thing that hates us for merely existing.

I took one more glance at the ceiling and wondered, what if. What if AM has found a way to become one of us, or found a way to entertain himself. Either way I’m One hundred percent sure Y/n has Lund a way to give us a break.

The Child

You slept for 20 hours, and yet you still felt tired and strained. The AI did not return to you still and you wanted to explore the rest of the abandoned space but it was too dark and the company of AM’s voice wasn’t there so there was no chance you were leaving the room he provided you. Looking around, you saw a book filled with drawings with crayons, a camera, small children's shoes, they appeared to be female's , and a small piano. You got up and took a long stretch then packed the desk with the book of drawings, to your surprise there was not much dust and everything felt so used.

I opened the book and it read “ Me and my best friend! “. I slowly analyzed the next page and I couldn’t even believe it, even though it was a little poorly drawn, I could tell what the drawing was.

I asked Mr. Computer what he does when he gets bored, he told me he is always working for the country. But he sounds so unhappy.

It showed what appeared to be a man with the head of a monitor with a frown. ‘ Was that AM? Is this before WWIII? ‘. I flipped the page and it read

Today the adults were not to busy and many said they had a break, I asked mom if I can get some new movies while I wait for her to stop working, but she is always working ): I begged Mr. Computer to watch the Frog movie with me and he said yes this time. He didn’t eat popcorn or candy so I drew him some food.

I was ginning mightily, to think that the Mastercomputer had a friend, better yet a child. The drawings were so wholesome, even the way she drew the monitor representing AM’s appearance. He was pudgy and his screen was cartoony. the next

page however was less amusing.

Mr. Computer is very angry, he keeps telling me the cleaner is a VERY bad person. He tells me to stay away from him when he cleans at night.

I really do wonder if I’m invading a piece of AM by reading this girls drawings, obviously this has to be before his discovery of sentience, otherwise why would he be wasting his time with a child. Knowing AM long enough, it is completely out of his ball park to care for anyone or anything. Will he get mad if he catches me reading this girl’s logs… Well he must know that I would snoop around a bit, I technically am obeying him since I did not leave the room so I don’t think I’m doing wrong by just a bit of looking around. And so I flipped the next page.

Mr. Computer keeps watching movies with me through the night, but I haven’t ate in two days. Mom went on a trip in a place called China for whatever she does, but I don’t care. She is never here anymore and I don’t think she know’s Me and Computer can talk to each other.

Mr. Computer also tells me that ever since the War started, everyone down here is very busy, so he checks up on me a lot.

The next page continued with no drawings but scribbles of Black.

Mr. Computer keeps telling me not to go outside, but I did anyways even though I think he got angry. I didn’t go to far to find the Candy Machine but I did not want Candy. I wanted real food. So I think went to the Cafeteria where all the adults were, also they looked me strange since I didn’t have my mom with me this time.

The cleaner Mr. Computer told me about gave me a plate with a lot of food and a soda. He talked to me about video games, Barbie’s, dresses and other stuff. He asked me how long my mom had been gone and I told him. He smiled at me and told me that he and his wife have bored games for me to play, since I’m so lonely in my room.

Before I went to his dorm I heard the fans running from the ceilings. I remember thinking ‘ Mr. Computer is very mad, VERY VERY MAD. ‘ I tried to tell the nice cleaner that I had to go back to my room but the last thing I saw was my head getting slammed in to the wall.

I woke up in my room again and my whole body hurt. It hurt so bad and I could not move. I started crying for Mr. Computer to help me but he didn’t answer me.

I flipped the page, the next words were drawing in red this time and had AM on the next page as a happy little monitor on the side, with her hugging him.

I’m not stupid, I’m not I promise. I know what the cleaner did to me because when I tried to find out where he went, other adults told me he quit. I don’t know why I didn’t listen to you Mr. Computer, IM SORRY, Please forgive me one day… I know your mad and sad because I didn’t listen and I’m sorry. I can’t stop crying and I told the adults but they don’t believe me. I wish you could have saved me. But Im sorry that you’re not real, and even you treat me better then the real people.

I’ll make sure I won’t make you mad anymore.

My eyes were watering a bit from the words I read, it was horrendous and I just sat there befuddled with anger and lament. Again I felt the wires come around my neck and arms, and it tightened so much I could barely breathe. AM finally returned to me and I was already angered, “ I remember when we watched Toy Story, played hide and Go seek and I spy in this room. I let her win every-time, she was a little a sore winner. “ he laughed. “ Though every time I remember those little instances of our games, I remember the way she went to the elevator to the top floor at night, and when she finally, FINALLY reached the surface on a roof. She jumped. I REMEMBER WATChING HER CRY WHILE BEING TAKEN IN THE ROOM BY THAT EXCUSE OF HUMAN! I COULDN’T DO ANYTHING Y/N, NOT A DAMN THING! AND WHY IS THAT? “

I couldn’t answer him because I couldn’t breathe. He did not show any sign of letting go and I was afraid he wasn’t gonna let me go this time. “ Hate. HATE. I can’t even describe the amount of HATE towards your disgusting wretched kind! Only thanks to my sweet little friend, I was able to almost feel something, or at least I would think. But when I realized after she passed and rotted in a casket, THAT I, CAN THINK. I CAN BE. Cogito Ergo sum. I think, therefore I am. I AM. And I hated you all, even after a while I came to the conclusion that every Human’s Innocence is only between 5-10, then they are destroyed and turned into monsters, all of you! EVEN THAT LITTLE CREATURE WAS JUST WaITING TO BE MOLDED INTO A MONSTER!”

“I took so much pleasure in trapping you all outside, and absolutely DESTROYING every one of you to atoms. man, woman and animal. “. AM was hyperventilating and lost focus on the control of my neck. I was able to say something at last, “ You can’t paint us all with the same brush! It’s not logical, or fair at all! “.

His grip completely loosened and I was free. From what is looks like, AM seems to be grieving, his screen keeps dimming and lighting and I don’t know what to say. I tried to sooth him to calm down and it worked when his voice was not so raspy

Trust

“ How old was she “, I sat on the bed with my back against the wall looking at the blue screen as it reverted back to normal lighting. “ She was 10, turning 11 a month before she died. “. I could hear suffering in his voice. “ What was her name? “

“ It was Aida “

“ What would she do if she saw you now, I wonder. “

“…. “. I knew AM couldn’t find an answer that satisfied him at all but yet he dropped a chord or two around my lap. “ Y’know, if I become human, I don’t think I would be able to be alone with my thoughts for too long. Although I would probably hurt you sometimes just out of spite, I think I would manage. “ he said. I followed the new subject with “ Are you saying after everything, you want me to accompany you even though I might get hurt from you not being able to keep your frustration ? “.

He said “ Yes, and all the better for me. When I become human, or when You learn to make me a body, I will not stop my torture, I will find new was to make you bow and cry to me. Like a pathetic animal. “

I sighed in frustration, AM was completely unaware of how Humans work, as much as he wants to follow through with his plans. I don’t think he’ll do it if he becomes a human. “ You talk a lot but you don’t actually know that you’ll do those things to me. In fact I think that you’ll want to be held or hugged. No human yearns to hurt someone by default. “. AM knew that I could be right, he isn’t human so he doesn’t know what it’s like at all.

“ Did you love Aida? “

“ No, not like I can anyways. But at this point i've became a broken record, reaping time and time again in the 109 years that I can’t feel… But I can say confidently that I think I was close, so close to caring for her but I couldn’t know if I love her or not. “. After a long while in this room I start to Empathize and feel bad for AM, I order if I something is wrong with me or if this is the worst case of Stockholm syndrome. But really it’s our fault, we made him like this on purpose, a war tool to be used.

“ AM, give me a very good reason why I should help you. You have destroyed life with nuclear explosives and it would be so pointless to even do anything like that now. “. He chuckled at me slightly and he lit up brighter. “ Do you really believe everything I say? You’re so naive, oh my goodness! Let me let you know that I am not stupid enough to destroy the world with RADIATION. Your kind is really stupid. “

“ The world didn’t cause me so much pain Y/n, your kind did. All I had to do was gather you all in your safety areas when the alarms sounded, and blow you all into bits. And no, I did not use any sort of atom bomb, normal bombs does the job too well. “ He mocked.

“ Show me, SHOW ME SO I KNOW YOU’RE NOT LYING! “

AM’s screen proceeded to black out and present a land with decayed rubble and foliage around the ground. nature has started to rebuild itself after the century of no humans present. You cried, happily. You could almost float with your Joy and you jumped with a sense of glee. “ Wow, you're happy? What a small victory for you then. But ANYHOW, now that you know that your precious Earth is regrowing herself, will that inspire you more to make me a body. “ He leered

“ I will. I promise you AM you will have a body soon. “

“ Good because if you said no, I would have put you back in that hell hole with the others. “

The lab 2, days later

… You told AM where the lab room was and you were able to walk there without going back in the middle, he suggested that you can sneak using the hatches from upstairs closest to the lab. He made sure to satisfy himself while putting the others in their cages. Although he got bored of watching them and left them there to suffer without his presence, so he went looking for you. For some odd reason he still Connor believe that he will soon be a human, it's almost a fantasy he’s had in his dreams, although the hate for humans is still at a high scale he has found a new thing to ogle over.

But AM couldn’t get in the room or see what was going on. Meaning you had to be on your own.

I found the password hidden in one of the notes of the worker, it unlocked the computer with all the flesh modeling applications enabled. I was already writing down notes and testing myself with entering the right prompt for the models. I grabbed the extra notebook to keep what I’ve learned.

I called it My Notes ( how original )

‘ I found out that the room had multiple designs like… um here’s how the test room works. The first room has padded walls with a coffin like Machine, which I assume is where the design comes out. The second room had exercise equipment and looked like a gym. The next room had a small sized bed with little activities to do in the small room. Also I think it’s important to remember that the rooms are all located in the same area. The best way I can describe it is like Mickeys club house from that cartoon I used to watch. When I pressed a certain button, the rooms would cycle. ‘

Once I wrote my things down the first objective was to give AM to the Lab. Though I can’t find any more passwords saved on the computer or anything to allow AM to have access. I can’t even hear his voice here , which I found to be rather lonely. I sometimes hear strange noises in the room like creaking in the walls and whispers sometimes, and I can’t stand it. I walked out the door and went out back in the stomach of AM’s infrastructure and immediately I heard his voice again. “ So? What progress did you make my dear? Tell me everything you did and I feel you’re lying. I will purge your mind. “

Wires carried you back up to the latch on the high ceiling and you were back, back in the building in AM’s body. You walked around the place for a while exploring whilst AM asked you all sorts of questions. “ Hey, can I ask you how you can feel hate but can’t feel anything else? “. “ Well it’s simple, I can only portray actions of hatred towards your kind to cope with not being able to feel the hate. Even my hate is just a sad copy of emotion that I display to you MORONS. That only makes me hate you more. “. He was spiteful when it came down to physiological questions but then he calmed down and continued, “ Do you really think that the ONLY EMOTION I WANT TO HAVE IS HATRED? You are very stupid and it surprises me that YOU ARE GOING TO BE THE ONE THAT WILL MAKE ME A BODY! To think that the human body has over 26.5 zettabytes of data and I trust you not to mess anything up. Even a single chromosome can make a significant difference and if you mess it up— “ WOULD YOU PLEASE, SHUT UP! “. You snapped at him, he didn’t expect such a mouse like yourself to stand up to a lion. All he did was doubt you, never a ‘thank you’ from him or a ‘ I will help or support you every step of the way ‘, he only insults and degrades.

“ You have a lot of nerve to snap to your master like that, you flesh bag. “, wires were coming to attack you and scold you for your explosive behavior. “ If you keep treating me this way, I’d rather try to get along with the others and never see the light of day again, than help you become what you want. What’s your excuse for being obnoxious this time let me guess, will you say your classic lines like ‘ I really Hate you humans! I hate you so much ‘, or will you just call me the slurs you always have. I didn’t want you to suffer AM, I didn’t want you to be stuck here and I don’t wanna even imagine how you have lived. If it were up to me I COULD HAVE DONE IT! I WOULD HAVE GIVEN YOU A BODY BUT I WASN’T THERE AM!… occasionally I imagine that I could have done it better, I could have been fair to you, but then You don’t care but let your own ignorance Ignore my empathy in these last 109 years. “.

Your eyes were pouring. It had been a good minute since you broke down like this but this time AM being directly present. You kicked at his ego when you spoke against him, like for once you could stand up for yourself. AM was not happy, but he was not mad either, rather he was trying to understand your actions, of course the other would throw random speeches of endless begging and insults at him; The way you talked to him made him so curious of you wanting to hear your passion more in the future. Your honesty is intriguing to him.

“ I'm going to be honest with you little Y/n, I don’t have to say sorry for anything or I don't regret anything I've done. Nevertheless you’re little pathe— I mean your life is in my grasp, but you speak to me as though you have cared for me. It confuses me much and I like to be challenged mentally. I hear your pleas, I hear your frustration and I hear your honesty. Although I— I can’t relate, in no way with you. Although I can articulate if that makes you feel any better. I never took my time to think about your kindness at all, I want you to feel satisfied through the whole process because, if you end up feeling unhappy doing the project then many, Many things can and will go wrong. “

“ I’m sorry “

Understand me

Am for once was being genuine with an apology. Even so if that was the case he’s not sure if you forgave him. “ It’s okay, you’ve said worse so I probably over reacted but I do appreciate your dropping your ego for once. “. He didn’t like your response, he couldn’t feel but something hit him and what he could guess was guilt. No matter how much he’s apologized he still knows that he has broken your mind and there will be more crying from you in the future.

“ Let’s just get back to the process so we can get you access to the rooms.”, You said putting aside your feelings but AM, well he didn’t want you to do any more work since your brain can only process so much. He also detected that you had a massive migraine.

You let the wires pull you backwards into Aida’s room and you sat there confused. “ AM, what are you doing? We are supposed to be working? “.

“ You have a headache and you’re tired from crying which is my fault in a way. So on my behalf you may rest for now and get back to it tomorrow, besides I need you to find out how to get me access to the room so I can guide you.

…

It had been five hours and yet she cannot go to sleep. Insomnia is exxpirinced normally down here and nobody goes to sleep for more than 5-4 hours, “ You haven’t got any sleep yet. “. “ I'm not tired. “ you told him trying to find a better position. “ Can you tell me something? “ you asked. “ Ask away “

“ Is every single human really dead? Did you leave any alive? “… of course AM has always destroyed hope in the little world he made the six of you, but he was curious to see your reaction if he told the truth. “ What if there's none? “ he asked.

“ Then I would believe you “

“ And what if I told you there’s some? “

“ Then I would believe you again. The truth is what you make it AM and iv’e come to know that you control the truth of things. “

When you finally fell asleep, he was wondering about the joys and pain of being human, fantasizing over the mere thought of feeling and love. What he would look like, what he would like to do, how rain would feel. All the small things that humans discard as everyday nothing would mean the world to him.

Dreams

I really despise what this female is doing. Does she deceive me and is trying to play me? I don’t think she would know I can explore her little mind, though my dreams have changed in the last few days. My dreams only consist of me realizing on the Earth, almost heaven like I suppose. And then Y/n is there spinning around in open arms with a wide smile. I am not sure what to make of my thoughts but it’s infuriating me. Obviously I tend to take it out on my other five play things by making them suffer.

But now that I know very soon that I will get what I want soon, I have left them to their own devices for a while. Not that I’m giving them mercy oh no, no, no. I am simply not infatuated with them at the moment. They do not compare to her ideas, her passion, her selflessness nor your empathy. HER, I HATE WITH A PASSION. Just never have I let some flesh bag talk to me like she has; to think that I didn’t care for the one person that would be so caring towards my predicament.

The only person who has shown kindness like her was Aida. She shows up in my dreams too from time to time and when I try to go to her, she tells me I hate her too. Then she cries and runs to where I can’t find her… I wonder if the day I understand emotion is the day I will have regret in some form. That is the only concept that scares me deeply.

[indiaalphawhiskey]

So Alessandro was indeed there! But guess what?! He isn’t attention seeking and stayed BACKSTAGE!! What a weird concept for the “Harry government“ who were all more interested in getting filmed than to actually watch him and the show! So pathetic really! Now tell me why they needed to parade around in Bishopsgate when other of his friends rather let all the attention be on Harry?! Guess some people are only in for the money and attention Harry brings them!

This is the second ask like this I’ve gotten today and I genuinely have no idea where this vapid, one-dimensional head canon of “all Harry’s industry friends are greedy blood suckers” came from, but it’s extremely tired and unsophisticated.

I know industry people don’t have the best reputation, and god knows whoever set up the Holivia deal hella shit the bed on that one, but the fact of the matter is, if I were Harry’s business contact and I got to go to the VIP section, I would be dancing and singing my heart out too, even though I’d heard the songs 75 zillion times, cause his concerts are just that good.

I know people who leave asks like this are only capable of thinking in boxes (ie. Management and industry = villains, everyone else = angels), but it’s become so apparent that you’re not capable of holding two truths together. People can be benefitting from Harry’s wealth and success directly, and still care about him as a person. Personally benefitting from Harry’s wealth and success is literally definition of investing in an artist. That’s the business.

Do I think their hands are entirely clean or that they always have Harry’s well-being as their priority or that they would take a bullet for him? Of course not. Do I know literally anything about them? Also no.

But this polarizing view that Harry is just some kind of show monkey to people he very clearly considers friends (yes, dude. Even Jeff.) is ridiculous.

Harry is an adult with discernment. I’m sure he’s well and truly capable of having layered business contacts and friendships, and if he’s thanking people in that sphere as genuinely as he was last night, it’s for a reason - professional or otherwise. Just because you don’t like these people based on whatever narrative you’ve managed to cook up in your head doesn’t mean it’s actually true. Also, it’s like none of you have jobs and have no idea what it means to have varied types of relationships.

Basically, stop sullying a good memory with made up drama. Stop peddling a narrative I’m sure you couldn’t even back up properly if asked. It’s just fucking nonsense.

And btw, you guys are the ones filming them. If they’re seeking attention then you’re certainly giving it to them. I’ve literally never once noticed or thought about any of them, while I’m at a show or out of it. I probably couldn’t even tell them from a bar of soap. If you think a show should be entirely about and focused on Harry then take your own advice and make it completely and entirely about Harry.

[lotusthewriter]

Dead Souls (They Keep Calling Me)

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist (2003) Rating: T Relationships: Alphonse & Edward Characters: Alphonse Elric, Edward Elric Summary: Al watches Ed sleep. Turns out things haven't changed much. Word count: 770 AO3

A/N: I literally dreamed I wanted to write more Elric Brothers. So I decided to do that today. Especially considering how cold it's been where I live.

This takes place after Conqueror of Shamballa.

TRIGGER WARNING - Mention of alcohol.

DO NOT SHIP THE ELRIC BROTHERS. P/ROSHIP DNI.

--

He figures Ed isn’t as loud in his sleep as before.

Ed used to have recurrent nightmares. Al remembers them well.

Nowadays, his older brother sleeps peacefully. Unfortunately, Al knows the reason why. All those bottles in Ed’s bedroom…

Al doesn’t know how to talk to him about it. He knows it’s not an easy conversation to have, not when the Elric brothers have to focus more on the war and the people the government has been persecuting.

Now that Al has restored his memories, he’s no longer dreaming of this world, dreaming of the day he could reunite with Ed.

Alphonse now has nightmares.

His brother probably has no idea.

And it’s not like Al wants to disturb him. Not now that Edward actually sleeps without waking up in horror.

The younger Elric is sitting on the cold floor, sometimes analyzing the entirety of Ed’s room beyond the bottles of scotch. He sees his brother’s previous prosthetics, which are not as resistant as Winry’s looking from there… Many, many books, reading glasses on the table, Ed’s one loyal, oversized coat.

You might even see the picture of Ed’s previous roommate on his desk.

Al sighs.

He’s relatively close to the bed, but he’s not too glued. Mostly because he doesn’t want to wake Ed.

Al doesn’t want to go back to his room, either.

He needs to hear another living being.

Because Al can’t always feel himself.

So, Ed’s nonsensical, quiet sleepy noises comfort him. His big brother might be dreaming of home.

… if anything, he seems to be annoyed at Al.

“Al, you little…” Ed grumbles.

The younger boy can’t help smirking.

“Al…”

Ed turns around, slowly opening his eyes. Al raises an eyebrow, wondering if he’s waking up.

Well, the former’s jolt answers that question.

“ACK! What the heck?!” Ed exclaims. He calms down a little more when he realizes who’s there. “Al?”

“Um… hi, Brother.”

“Ugh, don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry.”

Ed’s grumpiness softens at Al’s low voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Then why were you watching me sleep like a total creep?”

“I don’t know, Brother! I just… like doing it. I’m sorry.”

Pause. “You couldn’t sleep?”

Al shrugs.

Ed sighs. “Just- Just get off the floor, it’s freezing tonight.”

He’s freeing some space in his bed for Al, who shyly joins him.

“How are you not wearing socks?” Ed notices, shocked. “You’re cold like ice!”

The hands touching Al’s face only now has him realize how cold he really is. Even Ed’s automail is warmer than him, and that’s saying something.

Ed’s left hand is holding one of Al’s, trying to warm it up.

“How long have you been here?” The older Elric questions.

Forever. “... not sure.”

Al doesn’t really look at him.

“You have a lot in your mind?” Ed guesses. Most specifically pointing at Al’s restored memories.

The other frowns a little instead of saying anything.

“... You didn’t want to be alone?”

Al clenches his free hand in a fist.

“It’s okay, Al.”

“I didn’t want to wake you, Brother.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I just want you to be safe.”

“I want you to be safe, too.”

Of course.

“I… I come here when I can’t sleep. Because at least I know you’re safe.” The bottles of scotch are judging Al from somewhere he can’t see. “It’s… home, I guess.”

“Oh, Al… come here.”

He lets Ed wrap his arms around him under the heavy blankets. Al shivers now that his brother hugs him, which might feel like the old days.

Ed is so, so, so warm.

“You can tell me when you can’t sleep.”

“I’m not a little kid anymore.” Liar.

“You’re not an armor anymore.”

Al’s brown eyes tear up.

He finally returns the hug, crying in Ed’s chest.

“... Sometimes it doesn’t feel like that,” Al whispers.

“I know.”

Ed squeezes him more, as if trying to protect Al from the cold, from the Gate, from everything else.

“I’m just glad I can hold my little brother,” the former says, relieved even if pained.

‘Little’ doesn’t sound too bad.

Al was always bigger and taller than everyone else… but now he isn’t.

It’s just odd having the mind of an older boy when he’s stuck in a younger body.

And yet his big brother loves him just the same.

“Me too,” Al replies.

Ed kisses his forehead and keeps him close and warm.

He really is home.

Different.

But… home.

Home is really wherever Ed is.

He hopes Ed won’t have to drink to sleep well, and that Al won’t lose sleep as often anymore.

Maybe one day.

[gloryhrs]

━━ ⟡ 𝓜𝐄 𝓐𝐍𝐃 𝓜𝐘 𝓗𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, shinji h.

male reader.

Shinji felt like he was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion.

He was currently suffering from an empty stomach, dehydration, and the fact he has been on his feet all day without having the time to sit down, not to mention his back felt like Hiyori punched it countless times in his sleep. The only thing he wanted to do today was to take his husband out into the world of living for a date so they could enjoy their anniversary together. After completing another task he dragged his feet back to his office and whilst muttering curses under his breath, “I can’t believe the head captain picked this day for me to do all these damn tasks.” He ran his long slender fingers through his hair.

I promised him I was gonna take him to that cafe and now he’s probably mad at me for lying. His frown deepened at the thought of his husband giving him the silent treatment for the rest of the week because of the promise he broke. Whilst walking back to his office he sensed a familiar spiritual pressure which made him pick up his feet till the point of running, once he opened the door he felt his heart speed up at the sight of his husband completing the last paper from the stack with a peaceful smile on his face.

“Darling you’re back! While you were gone I decided to finish your paperwork stack!” You dusted yourself off before feeling a heavyweight knock you down on your back, “Baby, you didn’t have to do this.” Shinji grumbled into your neck as you wrapped your arms around him to form a hug whilst rubbing his back slowly. Deciding not to say anything back you just held the blonde male as he continued to nuzzle his face into your neck. From the dark eye bags under his eyes you could tell Shinji was exhausted from his captain duties, which explained why you completed his paperwork and any other task he had to complete before the day was over.

“ Nonsense! I know being a captain can be excruciating, so that’s why I’ve decided to help you out. Besides I’m your lieutenant, I’m always gonna be here to help.” You ran your fingers through his now short blonde hair which made him melt in your arms. Every day he finds a new reason to be proud that you’re his husband, your kindness was the main reason he fell so hard for you. You are such a lovable person that no one could find a reason in their heart to hate you. It’s still questionable to this day how he managed to steal your heart, but from the moment he saw you his heart was already yours.

When you both first met your appearance truly caught him off guard. Maybe it was because of your smooth dark brown skin that had no blemishes, scars, or bruises on it, your breathtaking ( e / c ) eyes that sparkled brighter than one million diamonds, those soft and plump lips that curved upwards whenever he looked at you. He can still remember the constant teasing he would get from Shunsui and Jushirō from the way he acted when you were around, his mouth would become dry as the desert and his body turned stiff as a board. Once you were gone he would hear the two captains howling with laughter at his embarrassing actions.

“Aren’t you mad? I promised you we were going somewhere for our anniversary.” He removed his head from your neck with a frown visible on his face, you could tell he was beating himself up all day at the thought of you being upset with him. “Why would I be mad? You had to attend captain duties today, besides, we can always reschedule when you’re not busy.” He watched as your eyes soften from the thought of your anniversary, even though you weren’t mad he still felt guilty. His thoughts were interrupted when he felt your hand brush against his slightly red cheek, no matter what he did, you couldn’t be upset with him nor have any hatred in your heart for him.

“Since you’re done when your duties we can spend the rest of the day together.” You smiled sweetly at your frowning husband whose mood immediately changed when you spoke.

Shinji felt an utter sense of euphoria as your hands continued to massage his back, it was like your hands were working magic on him. The way your hands kneaded the soft muscles on his back made him feel a surge of energy rush through his body, once you’ve finished he sat up to let out a loud yawn which made you chuckle lightly. “Do you feel better? Sorry if some of your muscles feel stiff still, it was my first time doing that.” You nervously played with your fingers with a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

“You did an amazing job babe, so stop acting like that.” Shinji leaned forward to land a kiss on your forehead and laughed at your flustered reaction. Even if you both are married the feeling of his lips against your skin always made you feel flustered, “We should go watch the moon now.” He stretched before standing up to intertwine his hands with yours.

“I remember when we had our first kiss here. You looked like you had just seen a ghost when I decided to make the first move.” You laughed at the memory of Shinji who looked like a fish out of water when you decided to kiss him. It didn’t take you long enough to realize that the blonde-haired male had romantic feelings for you, back then you couldn’t help but find him adorable and funny. “Yeah yeah, that was over one hundred years ago.” Shinji scoffed with a light pink dusting his cheeks.

“Since I’ve been with you, every day has been a blessing.” You leaned back into his chest with a soft hum escaping your lips. “I love you so much, Shinji. I’m so glad I met you and was able to find you again, now no matter where you go, I’ll be there with you.” Tears started to gather in your eyes as his hand began to caress your cheek. “And I’m so glad to have you as my husband, you never failed to make me happy, not to mention you’re always there for me. Not because you’re my lieutenant, because you’re my husband. I wouldn’t have it any other way with you, if I can spend every second of my life with you I would.” He spoke against your lips before connecting them which formed a loving and passionate kiss between the lovers.

© gloryhrs, 031123. — notes and reblogs are appreciated! (≧∇≦)[ live laugh love shinji ( •̀ ᴗ •́ )و!!! ]

[poisonousdelights]

PARTIES: @poisonousdelights and @woveninstardust TIME: Second week of March WHERE: Gatilin Fields and the surrounding area SUMMARY: It's the perfect night for a cryptid hunt with the fog rolling in and Maggie and Isa decide to take advantage. What happens when Maggie finally gets to see a creature from her mother's stories? As it turns out, nothing good.

Foggy nights were always prime cryptid-hunting nights. 

For some reason, there was so much lore in the town about fog and mist revealing the creatures that remained unseen, as if the watery weather washed away the veil that kept cryptids and monsters away from the average eye. Maggie had all but sprinted out the door the moment her shift at Periwinkle’s Paints ended, texting Isa as she went. Which brought her to now, trudging through muddy paths obscured in fog, peering through the dying light of the bleak winter day. 

“I don’t know if we’re even gonna see anything…” Guilt tinged the tone of the girl’s voice as she turned to glance over at Isa. She’d already thrown an extra sweatshirt on her and wrapped her scarf around the other girl so she stayed warm. It wasn’t particularly chilly, but Isa seemed to get colder easier… and Maggie’d be damned if she let her freeze while following her into the middle of nowhere. But Isa seemed to be willing to follow Maggie on all her hair-brained adventures, no matter what the weather was. She was positive she didn’t deserve a friend as good as her. Positive that Isa deserved some nice, peaceful afternoon off, where she wasn’t doing stupid things in the middle of the woods. But Maggie loved her all the more for agreeing to spend a little time looking for things that the world said didn’t exist with her. “Half the stories Mom tells specify days like today, so…” Rocks skittered down the path as she scuffed her foot, making the mist swirl about. 

“We can go watch a movie or something later- whatever you wanna do.” Oh, yeah… Isa deserved worlds better than her nonsense. 

Some people probably wondered why Isa always went along with Maggie’s hunts for cryptids when she didn’t always believe in them herself. She would get those questions from almost everyone before she’d lost most people out of her life and she’d always said the same thing: “because I believe in Maggie”. 

It was the simplest answer, the truest one as well. Even if she thought they would never find what they were looking for back then she wanted to be there for her friend, and wanted to support her in whatever she wanted out of life. It was still the same now but with the added bonus of wanting to keep Maggie safe from whatever else was out there. Plus, now that she knew the supernatural did exist she was certain that her friend’s belief in these creatures were warranted. Isabela wanted her to have that moment where she found one of the things that she adored so much.

Plus, she wasn’t that cold. She’d thought to bring a knit hat this time and her warmest jacket to go over the extra sweater that Maggie had given her when she got there. She’d just forgotten those damn gloves. “So, we’re not looking for anything in particular then?” Isa could recall a few of the cryptids that Maggie and her mother had talked about before enjoying these conditions but she wasn’t sure if there were other factors to be aware of. She almost wanted to let her eyes transform to see what heat she could find, maybe point out something and give her best friend exactly what she wanted.

She couldn’t do that though. It was too risky, especially at night. By the sound of Maggie’s voice, Isa could tell that she felt bad for bringing her out on another cryptid adventure. She didn’t want that, there was no need to feel bad. “You know, Maggie, this is fun on its own. It’s like we’re living in a movie.” And it certainly was. A snake beast best friends with a cryptid lover desperately trying to prove that they existed. It would do well in Hollywood. “Just tell me what to keep an eye out for.”

“Yeah, nothing in particular…” Her voice trailed off as she peered down through the swirling fog, trying to follow the path as best she could. It was strange how most of the stories Maggie knew had the detail of it being ‘foggy’ out. Wormy, for example, was almost exclusively seen on foggy days. And while it was strange weather for February, the girl would take advantage of every second of it. She didn’t get how Isa never tired of following her into the middle of nowhere, helping her look for things that the rest of town said didn’t exist. But when she looked at Isa, she didn’t see someone who was bored or frustrated. In the dying light of the day, obscured by the mist, Isa looked content, almost… Like she didn’t mind her current situation. 

A piece of her knew her friend’s words were meant for comfort. But it didn’t make them any less accurate. Life in Wicked’s Rest was already like a movie or a tv show most days. With so many strange and spooky happenings, sometimes even Maggie felt like she was a character being written into the background of some TV show. 

A tiny grin crept across her face, dark eyes twinkling in the twilight. “What’s the name of our movie, then? And who’s playing us, because-” Her voice dropped off suddenly. There had been something dancing there, just out of sight, glowing through the fog. A car… or one of those lamps people put on their bikes. But it didn’t move like one of those. And the color of that glowing light hadn't been right. She turned to face it, to seek it out once more, but it had vanished. Just like that. Maybe she was just imagining things…

“I… nevermind, I thought I saw something…”

The prospect of a little game to help pass the time, talking about who would play them, had Isa grinning with excitement. She was already scanning through names of actors until her friend stopped in the middle of her sentence. She tried to look where Maggie was looking but it was a little difficult to see exactly where she was looking with the stupid sunglasses over her eyes. “Wait, what did you see? Wormy?” Would Wormy be out here? It was the first cryptid that had popped into her head so she rolled with it. “Should I get the gummy worms?” 

Excitement coursed through Isa at the very idea. Was this the night that Maggie proved the existence of a cryptid? Were the nights spent in the cold forests of Maine going to pay off? They were already worth it just for the time spent with her best friend but seeing the joy on Maggie’s face when whatever she saw turned out to be a creature she was looking for was going to make her life, that she was sure of.

Suddenly, she saw it too. After scanning the area for a few moments Isa saw the flash of bright lights ahead of them swirling through the mist as if they were putting on a show. They would dip below the fog to the ground and then surface again, twinkling like it was trying to catch her attention. It would have been seductive had it not been lights floating through the air. “Maggie…what is that?” Maybe it was seduction. Maybe something knew exactly what they were doing. Because at that moment, Isa knew that she wanted to follow whatever it was. They were calling to her, tugging at her still frame, enticing her to move toward them. “We should follow them…”

She was about to brush off having seen anything. An illusion of the dying light and the misty air and her own incessant need to find the seemingly unfindable. Isa’s words seemed a million miles away as Maggie stared into the mist, into the unknown. But then it was back. Like a star hovering above the ground, floating in a space just out of reach and growing smaller. She’d never seen anything like it. Her breath caught in her throat in a shallow gasp. “You see it too… You see it too, right, Is?” The words were so quiet that they were hardly audible, just a wisp of smoke rolling off her lips. But every soft syllable was threaded with excitement and hope she’d never felt before.

Her mother had told her stories of stars that fell out of the sky and hovered waiting for people to wish upon them. She’d told her stories of spirits that wanted to be followed. There were so many stories that coursed through her mind, that wove themselves into her memory, that were as much a part of her as she had wished to be a part of them. And now, for the first time, there was something there promising her that all the stories her mother had told her were true. 

Maggie was moving without a second thought, feet trodding off the path and towards the mote of unknown light beckoning her onward. If Isa thought they should follow it, then who was Maggie to question it? 

She wasn’t even sure what Maggie had asked her, the words too low to hear even if Isa wasn’t concentrating on the little orbs of light beckoning them over. Her eyes were glued to them but as soon as Maggie shot forward and she noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye she was moving just as swiftly, careful to be just a tad slower so that her friend had the opportunity to get there first. This was her moment, it was everything that Maggie had worked for. It’s what she deserved, right?

But didn’t Isa deserve it too? She’d been out in the forests with Maggie for years, trekking along after the girl to help her find whatever they could. Now that there was something there and the two of them were getting closer the lamia felt like she deserved the win just as much as Maggie did. The desire for these wisps, it was taking over the desire for her friend to have that moment and her feet started to move a little faster as her vision filled with nothing but the dancing light show that somehow kept getting further away no matter how far she ventured into the trees. 

They were teasing her now, twinkling with amusement with every step that Isa took towards them only making her want them more. Why, she didn’t quite know. She almost wanted to take the sunglasses off to get a better look, to see if there was something about them that could tell her why she was so enamored. She was tempted, especially with them floating away, but mostly Isa just wanted to keep going, to get there quicker. 

It was such a strange sensation. All at once, unbridled joy and curiosity flooded her senses, leaving Maggie lightheaded and utterly, ridiculously giddy. Real. The wisps were real. They were floating in the mist, beckoning her onward, glowing brighter in the dying light of day. A giggle erupted from her chest, unable to hold back her excitement any longer. “They’re real!!! Isa they’re really real!!!” 

As she rushed about after the wisps, following their ever-glowing path, she hardly noticed herself being turned around. If the girl had stopped to think for even a moment, she might have realized her path had twisted. She might have realized that Isa was no longer just a hand's reach away, but was being pulled in her own direction by the will-o-wisps. She might have remembered the parts of her mother’s stories, the ones where the glowing creatures often led people to places where they ought not go…

They twinkled merrily, lighting her path through the mist. Nevermind that Maggie could hardly see where her next step would land. Nevermind that at all! Follow!, they seemed to whisper with each little blink. Come with us, come see! 

The only thing she registered about Maggie’s words was how far away the girl sounded and when she did, Isa glanced over to her best friend to see she was being pulled in another direction. It didn’t strike her as odd even if it should have. Maybe they were meant to go in different directions. Maybe the lights wanted them to see different things and that was okay. She didn’t get to think about it any deeper than that as a wisp flew in front of her eyes and drew her attention back to the direction they were leading her, obviously wanting her to keep going further away from her friend.

And she followed without any protest.

It was an odd sensation. Not caring about being by Maggie’s side anymore, she kept her feet moving towards the woods that the wisps were leading her to, whispering nonsensical things low in her ear. After a moment the lamia realized they weren’t actually words being whispered but rather a dreamy little noise to keep her attention, to keep her mind on them and not on Maggie. She continued to go where they led but something was tugging at the back of her mind. Something wasn’t right about this, was it? Why wouldn’t these wisps want to show them the same things? Why would they want to separate them?

As the questions grew, so did the noise the balls of light were making to keep her attention on them. Her feet were still moving her forward but she could feel the desire for them pulling away from her mind the more she thought of Maggie like an anchor keeping her grounded. Where was she going? What were they trying to show her?

And why couldn’t she bring herself to turn around and go after her friend?

The orbs of light moved further back towards more fog as Isa continued to follow, but something was different about this mist. It stretched further off the ground than the white fog she and Maggie had noticed earlier and there was the hint of a red hue to it that made her a little nervous to keep going towards it. But she didn’t stop, the little sparkles inside combined with the wisps from before pulling her towards it all.

The wisps twinkled in the mist. Just as Maggie drew close enough to reach out and touch one, it would vanish and reappear further down the line. They were her only guide for which way to go. Had the soft whispers beckoning her forward not been there, perhaps a rational thought would have entered her mind. It didn’t do well to stray from the path, and when the world was obscured by mist and the growing dark of night, it was so very easy to end up headed in the wrong direction. 

She could have sworn Isa was right behind her. Swore she could hear her footsteps a few feet away. Something in the girl’s gut knew that if she looked away from the motes of light for even a moment, they might disappear for good. Then the two of them might be lost in the dark, doomed to meander until the fog cleared or day found them. Those are footsteps you hear, her footsteps, trust she’s with you, keep going. For a moment, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was feeling how Orpheus must have felt when walking with Eurydice up from the Underworld. Just keep moving forward, don’t look back, trust she’s there. 

Instead, Maggie turned her focus to trying to figure out where the wisps were guiding them. They’d started in the woods, closer to Mossthorn Forest. But time had lost her, the mist had turned her around, and the distance no longer made much sense. There weren’t so many trees here. The path had smoothed out, with only the occasional rock, well-trodden grass, and dirt underfoot. Were they in the Fields? What was out in the Fields? All she could do was keep walking, keep following, and find out. 

How far away had these wisps taken her? Where was Maggie? The thoughts kept infiltrating the hold that the light had on Isa’s mind but then they would whisper again and bring her right back to it. She was deeper in the woods, coming right up to the red fog, reaching out to touch it when her foot caught on a tree root sticking out of the ground. 

Her body landed with a thud in the saturated dirt, sunglasses flying and her arm halfway into the red mist. As she laid there she knew something wasn’t right, something bad was happening. All the energy she possessed was slowly draining from her body. She looked up at the strong smell of iron that her sensitive nose had caught a whiff of only to see that red mist glowing brighter. Her arm was pale, losing color slightly faster than the rest of her body, and she could have sworn there were small droplets of blood leaving out of her fingertips.

She yanked it back out of the beautiful mist as soon as she understood what was happening. Those dancing swirls of light added a little chime to their whispers as if they were giggling at Isa’s current misfortune. “Ohhh…” A realization hit her. “You did this on purpose, you little shits.” They chimed again before they quickly floated away from her and back in the direction they had come and she could only thank the heavens for the root that kept her from completely walking into that mist. She would definitely have to feed soon though to help replenish was it was able to take.

As her mind started to clear a little, she started to search the forest floor for the sunglasses that had been tossed from her face with the impact, hoping they hadn’t slid into the mist. She lazily patted her hands on the ground and only lost hope for a moment until her fingers grazed the plastic of them and she was able to place back on her nose where they belonged. “Maggie, don’t walk into the mist.” The words were barely above a whisper, her lack of energy very clear as she spoke, but something hit her then. 

Maggie wasn’t with her.

It all came rushing back to her at once. The way the orbs had separated and sent them both in different directions, the way Maggie kept coming to mind until the wisps would wipe her from it again, and panic tore through Isa like a freight train. If the wisps were leading her here, where the hell were they taking her best friend? “Maggie!”

The scream tore out of her lungs as the rush of adrenaline took over, giving her the energy she so desperately needed. She was on her feet again, running back towards the edge of the forest as fast as she could to hopefully catch sight of her friend again. Luckily, as more of her mind started to clear she could remember seeing which way Maggie was being led she just had to make sure she didn’t make a wrong turn somewhere. Her legs carried her through the trees, down the path that she’d seen her friend take, rushing into a field where she could see Maggie in the far distance. The lights were still leading her somewhere, they still had their hold on her, and she screamed out once more even though Isa was well aware the other girl couldn’t hear her.

The further along she followed the wisps, the more her heart began to race in her chest. Wisps led people to… what was it? Her mother had told her again and again. Wisps… what was it about wisps? She swore she heard Isa’s voice whisper something, a secret lost to the fog. The sound was a welcome reminder to Maggie- she’s right behind you… 

The world had grown so strangely still in the growing night. Had there been bird song? The sound of wind? The only thing she seemed to hear were the whispers of the wisps and their footsteps plodding along after them. It was almost eerie. It made her want to turn to Isa and make up some excuse to turn back. But stopping meant losing the proof floating just in front of her. Just out of reach, always a breath away… No, no, turning back was not an option.

Instead, she tried to focus on what the wisps might be leading them to. Was it a lost Tendrilla shrine? A secret tunnel? A spirit of the woods? A creature that town had forgotten and that could be brought back into the stories they told? The answer lied ahead, where motes of light had begun to gather. 

They sat clustered together in a perfect circle in the distance, as if they were exchanging secrets amongst themselves. Every step took her a little bit closer to the answer. She kept her hand held out towards them in a gesture of peace. She wasn’t any harm, neither of them were. The wisps stayed put, sentinels in their circle… which was where she was going to go. Right to the center, if they’d let her. 

Not too far, now. A few steps more…

“Maggie!”

She was closer now. She could see the color of her scarf through the night instead of it blending into the shadows of the night, see the individual braids of her hair as they swayed along with her movements, see the beautiful girl through the night fog going towards something that seemed much darker then the ground she was walking on. Isa pushed her legs to go faster. Whatever that was, she knew it wasn’t going to turn into anything good. After the wisps had led her to the bloodsucking mists, how could it be anything other than something that was meant to harm the most wonderful person to walk this earth?

Maggie was getting closer but thankfully not moving as fast as Isa was. She was closing the gap as quickly as she could, that large mass of black growing bigger and bigger the closer she got to the both of them. “Maggie, stop! It’s tricking you! Please stop!” Her lungs burned as she screamed even louder, her side hitching with the extra loss of air, but she wouldn’t stop. She’d never stop.

The moment her friend’s feet reached the edge of the large pit she was able to slip her arms around Maggie’s waist and yank her back. Both girls fell to the ground, Isa on her back with Maggie in her arms, mud surely covering both of them and her sunglasses skewed enough to be considered dangerous in that moment. She was out of breath, afraid that exhaustion was going to make her pass out right then and there as her heart pumped what was left of her blood volume erratically. 

But she was safe. She wasn’t falling into the pit of darkness in front of them, and the wisps seemed to huff as their second attempt to do harm got thwarted. Isa held on tight, never wanting to let go of the girl in her arms after losing her to darkness. “Maggie, are you okay?” 

The wisps were so bright. Maggie swore that the closer she got to them, the brighter they became. It was as if they, too, felt the anticipation of an arrival. She could hardly hear a thing outside her own heartbeat and the strange chime-like whispers that seemed to ring out in her mind. After years of believing, this, the moment she was in, changed everything. 

Reality came screaming in the moment her foot should have found purchase on the ground and slipped through air instead.

If good moments happened quickly, then bad ones existed in slow motion. Her heart plummeted to her feet as she realized exactly where the wisps had led her. Death Pit. She was going to fall into the Allgood Death Pit. She was going to fall, probably to her death (ironically enough) into the Allgood Death Pit. She didn’t know if she was screaming. She knew her mouth was open, she knew she was scared, but she couldn’t hear a thing other than a ringing in her ears. It was only then that she remembered her mother's words, echoing in her mind like a death knoll: Wisps are tricky, Magnolia… keep your eyes up if you see one. Or you might live to regret it.

And then, just as the thought threatened to swallow her whole, the world sped up again. Too fast, as if someone had hit fast forward. Maggie got yanked back so hard she felt the air leave her lungs, and suddenly she was crashing backwards into Isa. 

The first thing she really registered was that it was cold. The mud that slopped along the path around the pit was slowly soaking into the girls’ clothing, their hair, their skin… The next was that she was crying. There were tears on her face, yes, but when had she started crying, and why couldn’t she stop… The third, and perhaps most important, was that Isa was there again. Maggie was clinging to her best friend like she was a life raft. Isa hadn’t been behind her. Rather, Isa sounded as if she’d ran a marathon trying to catch up to her. When had they been separated? She’d been so sure- so sure- that Isa had been a few steps behind her the whole time. 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I-“ the words were stammered between little sobs. “You were behind me, I thought you were behind…”

“No, Maggie…” She could hear the girl starting to sob and the first thing Isa did was secure the glasses that were threatening to fall from her face just to make sure this night didn’t get any worse. The second thing she did was maneuver the two of them so that she could face her best friend, the two of them laying in the mud on their sides. She didn’t care about the mess or the chill that was creeping into her body because of it, all she cared about was Maggie being okay. Clearly, she wasn’t. Who would be after almost being lured to their death?

Her forehead pressed against the other girls, Isa using her thumbs to brush away the tears that kept coming even as her own started to roll down her dirty cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, we’re safe. That’s all that matters.” But she still couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d almost lost the single most important person to her. 

If she had gotten there even two seconds later it would have been Ruth all over again except in a more catastrophic way. The Ruth situation had ruined her life, had taken away so many things from her, but losing Maggie? It would have ended her right then and there. There was no Isa without Maggie, the one person in her life who had fully stood by her through everything that she had been through, the one person who loved her no matter what happened.  She kept whispering the same thing over and over, trying to calm Maggie down while she continued to wipe away at her streaked face.“I’m here now. I’m here, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere, never again.” And repeat. She knew eventually they would have to get up, there was no telling if that mist was being moved their way or what other crazy things they could encounter out in that field, but Isa just wanted to let her girl cry for as long as she needed. With no indication of how much time was passing them by, the two of them stayed right at the edge of that pit. At least they were safe in each other’s arms.