#there's so many little observations I have about prequels that I don't want to make full posts about

[discjude]

Hi prequel community. If I said that I think the reason why there were only two prequels compared to the three that the other parts of the series got (3 TSY books and 3 TCY books) AND the reasons why Rhian's eye colour changes miraculously from Rise to Fall from green to blue (I think he's described as having green eyes in Rise? someone might have to correlate me on that) is because in Rise he's supposed to parallel TSY Sophie (green eyes, doubtfully good, multiple boyfriends) and then in Fall he's supposed to parallel Japeth (blue eyes, fratricidal, insane, gets cool one liners) how would you react to that

[beecauseevan]

omg established buddie yes

movie nights!! with chris preferably

Silence permeates the living room, expectant and uncomfortably tense. Eddie shifts in his spot on the couch, cringing when his jeans rasp against the cushions. He steals a glance at Chris, who is transfixed by the images flashing across the TV screen. Next to Chris, just visible over his brown curls, Buck is chewing on his bottom lip. Despite that obvious struggle to keep his big mouth shut, he's not the one who breaks the tense silence.

"Oh man," Chris says. His fingers twitch, like he's fighting the urge to cover his eyes with his hands. "I knew you were old, dad. I didn't know you were ancient."

Buck's laugh is choked and startled and only grows louder when Eddie glares at him over Chris' head.

"That's not—" Eddie starts. "This was already old when I watched it."

Chris tears his eyes away from the TV just long enough to shoot him an incredulous look. "Are you sure?"

"I didn't know you were a nerd," says Buck, who watches documentaries for fun and really doesn't get to talk. "This is all new information."

"I'm not a nerd."

"This is pretty nerdy," Chris argues.

Eddie shakes his head and eats an indignant fistful of popcorn. This is what he gets for trying to educate the youth. 

It's Christopher's fault, really. 

"I want to watch something," he said earlier, at dinner, chewing on Buck's newly perfected version of Bobby's veggie lasagna. "Something with space."

"Star Wars?" Buck suggested, twirling his fork between his fingers. "We haven't watched Episode V in a while."

Disapproval scrunching up his face, Chris shook his head. "We've watched it like a thousand times, though."

"It's a masterpiece," Buck replied, making Eddie—who had introduced him to Star Wars—very proud. "Can't see it too many times."

Eddie didn't add anything to their back and forth, a quietly content observer, warmed from the inside by Buck's lasagna and from the outside by the presence of the two people he cared most about. 

"Or," Buck added, "we can watch Revenge of the Sith, if you want."

"You hate that one," Chris said.

"I don't hate it. I just think the original trilogy is better."

"You're wrong." 

"The original trilogy has Han Solo," Buck said. "And Yoda. And Luke."

"Yoda is in the prequels too," Chris argued. "And the prequels have Jar Jar Binks."

"That's—a good thing?"

Chris shrugged. "He's funny."

Buck glanced at Eddie, who hid his smile in his palm. "He has a point."

Buck's eyes said does he, but of course that's not what came out of his mouth. Buck might be a worse pushover than Eddie, if that is even physically possible.

"Fine," he said, "Revenge of the Sith it is."

"No," Chris sighed, stabbing his fork into the leftovers on his plate. "I want to watch something new."

And Eddie, naive and optimistic wounded heart that he is, suggested something he would soon regret: "I really liked Star Trek when I was a kid. We could check that out."

"The movies?" Chris asked. "We've seen the movies, dad."

Chris meant the new ones, and Eddie didn't have the strength to tell him that he was a little too old to have watched those movies as a kid. He let that comment slide and shook his head. 

"No, the show. The original one. With William Shatner?"

Chris shook his head, and a moment later, so did Buck. Eddie took a moment to picture the horrifiedly disappointed face Chim would make in response to that statement, then moved on. 

"You guys are in for a treat."

He meant it then, too. He really thought they would love it. 

Turns out childhood memories don't always depict reality in all of its grainy, puke-yellow flannelled glory. The show is a lot more rough than he remembers and it doesn't help that he started them off with the first episode of the first season, instead of one of the good ones. He thought this would be a hit and they'd end up watching it regularly, but—well. 

"Why do his eyes look like that?" Chris asks, frowning at the screen. 

Eddie just shrugs—Buck, who has never been able to leave a question unanswered, is already digging out his phone. 

"No googling," Eddie scolds him. "You're gonna ruin the immersion."

Buck waves him off, phone screen lighting up the smirk on his face. 

"I just wanna know why they're wearing pajamas," Chris adds.  

"Wish our uniforms looked like that," Buck says, glancing up from his phone just long enough to smirk at Eddie. "They're probably really cozy."

"Not very cool, though," Chris points out. 

"It's tinfoil," Buck cuts in. "Tinfoil contacts. That's how they got his eyes to look like that."

Chris frowns. "Ew."

"Guys," Eddie complains weakly. "This is a classic."

Buck has the decency to say, "I'm sorry," but the way he mumbles it against his palm, barely concealed laughter coloring his voice, tells Eddie that he's not that sorry at all. 

"You said the same thing about Die Hard," Chris points out. "That was bad too."

Eddie shakes his head, stunned, and looks at Buck, who shrugs. 

"He's not wrong."

"That's it," Eddie decides, while the tinfoil-eyed monsters continue to poach the crew of the Enterprise, "I'm moving out. I bet Chim will take me in."

"More lasagna for me," Chris says, entirely unbothered. 

Buck laughs, loud and clear, and Eddie puts his hands in front of his eyes and pretends, badly and unconvincingly, to be upset. He isn't, he couldn't be, even if this were his favorite piece of media in the whole entire universe as opposed to just a show he used to enjoy as a kid—he couldn't be mad, because it's hard to be upset when you're faced with such stark reminders of why your life is as close to perfect as it could possibly be. Eddie loves that Chris and Buck hate the show, because they hate it together. He loves being the center of their good-natured mockery, because it means they're teaming up on him. They're a family. Eddie's family. And he loves them more than life.

As the episode goes on—and it goes on for ages—Chris grows more and more quiet. When the credits start rolling, he's dozed off. His head is pillowed on Buck's arm and Buck sits perfectly still, which in itself is a little bit of a miracle.

"Think he'll wake up if I carry him to bed?" Buck asks quietly, carefully, like he'd rather stop breathing than disturb Chris, which, knowing Buck, might not be too far from the truth.

"Probably," Eddie says, "I think you're gonna have to move."

"I really don't want to."

"Guess you're sleeping on the couch," Eddie shrugs.

Buck sighs. Then he moves, and Chris blinks awake, yawns, and for a moment he's six again, so small Eddie could delude himself into thinking that all he needed to do was fold him into his arms and the world would never be able to touch him.

Then Chris groans and rubs his eyes and looks around, instantly annoyed in that way only a tired teenager can be, and Eddie is back in the here and now, and he finds he likes it just the same.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Buck pokes Chris' shoulder and Eddie watches, with a smile that almost hurts his cheeks, as Chris rolls his eyes, teenage stubbornness without any sort of sting, because even though he's biologically and socially obligated to find adults annoying and embarrassing, Buck is still his person. "You ready for bed?"

"Yeah, yeah," Chris grumbles.

"I can come with," Eddie offers, and gets the same kind of eyeroll in return, and feels a rush of warmth when he realizes that maybe—maybe he's still Chris' person too. It's been a long road since Kim, but maybe they're getting there.

"I'm not a baby, dad," Chris tells him, straightening up on his crutches. "I can brush my teeth on my own."

"Alright, alright," Eddie relents.

Chris goes off on his own and by the time Buck and Eddie are done with the dishes, the rest of the house is quiet, including Christopher's room. Eddie glances at Buck, standing by the sink, and finds Buck looking back at him. He's wearing yellow rubber gloves and an apron and the smirk on his lips is not entirely innocent. 

"Hey."

"Hey yourself," Buck says, stripping off the gloves in one smooth motion. Eddie wonders what it says about him that that kind of turns him on. "You know, I thought Star Trek was all about homoerotic sexual tension. Didn't feel much of that."

Eddie blinks. "What?"

"Captain Kirk and the guy with the," Buck points at the side of his head, "ears."

Eddie feels a smile coming on and bites down on his bottom lip. He can't be that easy. "You know about that but you don't know who William Shatner is?"

"I have niche interests," Buck tells him, hands finding Eddie's hips. His smile is brilliant. His hands are cold. The sleeves of his hoodie are still rolled up. Eddie loves this man to the core. 

"Hm." Eddie sways closer, wraps his arms around Buck's shoulders, brings their lips together in a lingering kiss. "Boy, do I have the episode for you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Eddie hums. Another warm kiss later, he laces their fingers together and leads Buck back into their living room, turns the TV back on. "This one is called Amok Time."

[whorediaries-09]

and i lost you;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- hurt/comfort. a/n- do you guys see the parallels between the series and the sequels?? there are a lot 💃

prequel masterlist series masterlist little train.

fear. it twisted it vines around one, keeping one close to it's heavily beating heart till blood crawled out from the ears, flowing down towards the neck, the hot metallic liquid extinguishing the quench of the vines wrapped around the throat, till there was no blood left, none to feed the flesh.

sirius felt fear. even as a courageous man, he feared a lot of things.

but he could fight the demons, let the bravery, the bold courage in him overpower them. hold them by their throat, watching as the life left their eyes, their limbs going cold before falling slump and lifeless.

but some demons needed to be killed with gentleness. a gentleness that he craved, after fighting for so long.

it came with the wave of protecting his loved ones. he didn't love much, he couldn't, not after having his heart broken and tormented and thrown around so many times. but when he did, his mind flooded with the demons that crawled under his skin, ripping him from inside slow, torturously slow.

he had yet to learn how to kill those demons.

they rotted away gently, so.

he watched the slowly healing scars on your back, as the suds of lather from your hair washed down your skin. he had a hard time taking out the dried clotted blood from your matted hair, but he was determined to take it out. so, after a few thorough washes, he took out the blood.

'does it hurt?'

'kind of,' you replied, knees pressed to your chest. you'd healed a lot, time being a wonderful ointment to your wounds. 'but you're careful,' you whispered. your index finger drew little circles on your knee.

he had taken upon the action to help you take a bath after you'd fallen unconscious due to weakness. you admitted that you hadn't been eating much after a lot of questioning and pestering by him. he felt his heart grow sore.

nobody could stop him from waltzing back into dead flames and blow away the ashes.

'i'm glad i can be,' he replies, giving your back a final splash of water to let the suds dissolve. he kept a towel near the tub, getting up on his feet. he wobbled slightly, legs dead as the aftermath of sitting still for a direly long time.

'careful,' you warned. he nodded.

'i have kept some clothes on the bed...they are my mothers old clothes...we couldn't unlock the door to your house...' he said, remembering how he had to wrestle kreacher to let him get the clothes.

'i'm not sure if they will fit you...you can charm it to make it fit you better, yeah?' he said, before walking away, the quiet thank you that left your lips never reaching his ears.

*-

'do you feel a bit better?' he asked, watching as you slowly nibbled on the chapati. he remembered, if not very clearly just the way you liked it.

'yes, thank you,' you replied. you stared at the green curry with pieces of paneer floating in it. 'is this..palak-'

'it's palak paneer yes,' he said, his sentence not quite finished. he didn't want to say anything. perhaps, too afraid to rekindle the flame of embroidered memories.

perhaps too afraid to admit that he was killing time at the cemetery. still alive, but never quite buried.

the silence was almost too demeaning. neither sure what to say, but too afraid to let it hang and consume.

'do you mind cutting my hair?' you asked suddenly. he stared at you bewildered.

'no...i guess,'

'that was a stupid question to ask, i'm sorry.'

'i don't mind,'

'oh. okay...'

*-

the inches of your hair were splayed on the hardwood floor. you had your eyes shut close, mind still not ready to observe the new look sirius had given you. although he had promised to not cut your hair too short, you were still afraid you wouldn't like it.

but you'd be afraid to admit it too. that you were worried about something like your hair length when people were every moment you took a breathe.

'are you ready?' he asked, softly squeezing your shoulder. you nodded.

'i think so,'

'okay...open your eyes,' he whispered, as if a quiet secret to keep. you fluttered your eyes open, watching the mirror reflect back your face. your hair was gently trimmed and shaped, stopping at your shoulders. you could see sirius' nervous eyes behind you, lips moving to form the next question. before he could voice it, you replied.

'i love it. thank you so much.'

he breathed out a heavy breathe which he seemed to have been holding in.

'i'm glad you like it. also i forgot, some officials are coming from st. mungo's to assess your progress. and also because they want to ask a few questions.'

'what?'

'some officials-'

'no i got that! i don't want to be assessed by them. i don't want to answer any questions-'

'you have to. it's that or returning back to voldemort and his little army of death eaters, poised as the 'secret weapon'. at least that's what dumbledore told me,'

'DUMBLEDORE WILL TELL YOU A LOT OF THINGS, MR. BLACK. YOU'RE NOT FUCKING BOUND TO LISTEN TO EVERYTHING. YOU WERE LOCKED UP IN AZKABAN BECAUSE HE WANTED TO MANIPULATE HARRY AND RAISE HIM LIKE A FUCKING PIG FOR SLAUGHTER! HE KNEW FUCKING EVERYTHING. AND HE KNEW YOU'D GET IN HIS LITTLE PLAN FOR GLORY!'

he stayed quiet, letting you breathe out your anger. your chest heaved, throat aching with the screams you'd emitted. tears gathered in your eyes, you felt yourself break, yet again.

'fine.' he breathed, sitting down on his knees in front of you. 'but you'll have to tell me everything. everything that has happened, everything that you know.'

'why should i?'

'because i need to protect harry. he's about the only family i've got left.'

when you stayed silent, he felt like losing hope. but, oh how could he?

fear had tracked him down.

**********************************

original idea posted by - @lilwnet

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

taglist (for series) - @urbansaint

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

[uhohbestie]

Hi! I literally JUST finished reading TAMN and it is easily one of the best scarian fics like. of all time. in my opinion. but for context i binged it for a bit at first and then took a bit of a break for my heart to recover and then came back to finish it off, so i’ve been sort of avoiding discussion about it on here as to not be spoiled until now.

That is to say i’m not sure what questions have already been asked and answered and while i’ve tried to scroll through the asks to check i’m very behind so i apologize if this has already been touched on BUT

Do you ever plan to reveal what happened with Joel, or is that something you plan to leave ambiguous? Or Lizzie? I got so attached to him during his relatively short time in the fic and my god the gunshot scene- Its going to haunt me a little not knowing if he lived or not, but I also fully understand if that’s not a question you intend to answer.

I’m also curious if they ever end up meeting with mumbo (i’m assuming that was the aforementioned “mustache man” because who else) or found pearl, also is Scott alive out there somewhere in this AU? Did Cub survive? I know I’m asking way too many questions and I don’t really expect answers to all of if any of them, but if any extra details are allowed i’d love to hear them.

Regardless thank you so much for writing this fic, it’s clear there was a lot of love poured into it and that was reflected in the absolute emotional rollercoaster it took me on. The world and the characters and the tension was all completely captivating, I felt absorbed in it all in a way I only ever really experience once in a blue moon and it’s something I cherish. This fic is always going to stick with me, and I can tell by all the fan works that have been made that I’m not the only one, so congrats on putting something out there that managed to resonate with so many people. I’m thinking about joining the discord sometime soon, but I need a minute to process the emotions I’m having over making it to the end of this fic now haha. Anyway I didn’t mean to make this into a whole essay, so thank you if you actually take the time to read my rambling, and I hope your pillow is nice and cold for you tonight :)

Aaa thank you SO much, we're both so happy that you enjoyed TAMN!! As long time long-fic readers ourselves, it was so special for us to get to write and share it, and hearing that people enjoyed it as much as they did has given us both SO much happiness. It means a lot!!! <3 <3

As for your questions!!!

Some of them we can answer, and some of then we'd like to keep vague and ambiguous on purpose. I know for a fact that writing Lizzie/Pearl's side-story is something both Key and I are champing at the bit to get to, and we're also very interested in writing some prequel portions of the Redwood compound in their earlier "establishing" phase, while also continuing to explore Scar and Grian's story (both in pre-zombie apocalypse vignettes, and in post-epilogue one-shots). Other parts we don't want to promise because admittedly it's a world that could easily expand infinitely and we are but two lowly writers, and even more is going to be left open-ended on purpose, because it invites people to get creative on their own, and that "oh my gosh, what do you think happened HERE.... do you think maybe....?" is one of the things that got us so invested in fandom and fanfic ourselves in the first place.

Which!!! (shameless segue) brings me to the TAMNcord Discord!!!

Honestly and for true, some great "what if..." conversation occurs there pretty much daily by the incredible people that TAMN has attracted. Anyone and everyone is welcome to join, and feel free to simply lurk and observe if you'd like! If that's of interest to you (or anyone reading this) then we'd love to have you!

Thank you again for reading TAMN, I'm so happy you liked it :') <3 <3 -🔒

[maxverstappensflatbrim]

Show Me Yours | Matty Healy [32]

chapter thirty-two, act four: somebody else

masterlist

little Author's note /TW before this act begins. There's going to be alot of talk of drug use and addiction within the chapters coming, if you're not comfortable with these kinds of things please don't read.

October 18th 2016

Adam smiles to himself, watching the huge grin on Tommie’s face as she and her grandfather walk ahead discussing the newest Star Wars movie that’s coming out.

Their nan is beside him, they walk in silence back to the tour bus. Adam looks between his grandparents a few times trying to think of the best way to say what’s come to his mind.

Maggie sighs and looks at him in the corner of her eye, “What Adam?”

“Hmm?”

She raises one of her dark eyebrows, “Tell me what you’re trying to tell me.”

“Why are you guys actually going home?” He asks.

Adam’s not stupid, despite having a lot of the same characteristics one thing he inherited from their maternal grandparents was his observation skills. Whereas Tommie inherited her paternal grandparents' naivety. 

Maggie sighs watching as Tommie skips ahead with Button, Thomas watching on with that proud fatherly look he saves for only her.

“It’s come back.”

Adam pauses, he stares at her, for too long and she nods slowly, “Doctors gave him a year.”

“It’s back?”

She nods, “He wanted to come see you one last time.”

Adams shakes his head, “We- we can stop the tour, I mean, we have money now, nan, we can pay for the best treatments, get him private-”

Maggie shakes her head, “You know he won;t let you do that-”

“What about Tommie?” He asks, “This will break her.”

Maggie keeps quiet, looking forward and Adam shakes his head, “Nan…”

“We’re not telling her-”

“You have to.”

“I want to.” She says honestly, “I want to give her the chance to say goodbye, the chance to be with him, she didn’t have that with her mother. I don’t want to keep another thing away from her.”

“But he won’t?”

She nods slowly, “He refuses to.”

“He was never able to hurt Tommie.”

“Hurt her? This will kill her.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

Phoebe’s dyed eyebrow is raised higher than usual as Tommie sighs blissfully and wraps her in a hug.

“Uh, you okay?”

“This has been the best day ever.” She grins, bending down to twirl Max around and kiss his little head, “Went for ice cream with nan, Granch and Ads, had a Star Wars marathon, drank a shit ton of dr pepper, ate pizza and even watched all the prequels.”

Phoebe smiles, “We still going to that party?”

She nods quickly, “Oh, fuck, I forgot.”

Phoebe shakes her head in an adoring way as she laughs, “Of course you did.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Raid my closet, I’m planning on wearing the black dress laid out on the bed so don’t have that.”

“Thanks,” She kisses her cheeks as she passes through her kitchen, “Life saver, love you.”

Phoebe hums, shoving some crackers into her mouth as she shares with the two dogs.

“Is Caleb picking you up from here?”

“Um, think I’m meeting him there, can I catch a lift with you?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Tommie settles on a long white and green summer dress that’s been folded and pushed to the back of the American’s wardrobe.

When she steps out, hair let down from the half up hair do it had been in and her docs on Phoebe makes several comments on how good she looks and how lucky Caleb is to have her that causes a blush to rise up her cheeks.

“I forgot I had that dress, you can keep it?”

“Really? I love it.”

Phoebe hums, “Thrifted it when I was in high school, I wore it to a wedding.”

“White to a wedding?”

“It was an aunt who was mean to my mom once.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

Caleb smiles leaning in for a quick kiss, “Hey, babe, took your time.”

“You having fun?”

He nods, “Get yourself a drink, I’m going to go talk with some friends, catch up with you in a bit.”

Many drinks later, when Phoebe had decided to call it a night and half the party goers had left Caleb was still in some corner with some guys and Tommies sat nursing a double vodka-red bull on a sofa alone.

The sofa dips beside her, a pair of feels landing on the coffee table where her doc martens rest.

“You look as bored as I feel.”

Tommie’s eyes drag up a pair of tanned legs, up a pretty silver dress and land on a mop of dark curly hair.

Her eyes shine brightly as she smiles, assessing Tommie in the same way, “I’m Roxanne.”

Tommie’s mouth opens a few times until she clears her throat and shifts so she’s sitting upright, “Tommie.”

“Nice to meet you, Tommie.”

“Yeah, you too.”

She smiles, pretty teeth revealed once more and Tommie swallows thickly as she watches her lift a fruity drink to her lips.

“Nice night, huh?”

“Beautiful.”

“You look like the moon.” Tommie winces, shaking her head but Roxanna laughs and she internally groans, or moans, she can’t exactly describe the feeling in herself right now. But she does it because even the woman’s laugh is beautiful.

“Thank you. You look like a star.”

Tommie grins at that, she hates the sun, it burns, it’s too warm and she hates when it gets in her eyes.

Stars are beautiful, not always seen but always there.

“Do you want another drink?”

“I’m okay, thank you, but I can get you one… if you want?”

“I’m good, still got this one.”

“What do you do?” Tommie finds herself asking.

Her heels click as she drops them back to the floor, she shifts and pushes herself back into the sofa, “I own a clothing line.”

“That’s cool.”

She nods, “Yeah, it was my mother and I’s dream to design clothes when I was a kid.”

“You get into it together?”

She hums, “I draw she sews. We make a good team. What about you?”

“I play guitar,” She says, “I’m in a band… I write sometimes too.”

“With your mom?”

“Uh, no, no… my childhood mates.”

They talk for a bit longer… until early hours of the morning, tucked away in the lounge away from the party.

She learns she’s from San Diego, and moved to LA when she was twenty-one a couple years ago. The business took off and they went from a t-shirt company, to a clothing brand partnering with all different celebrities here in LA.

Roxanne’s silver ringed fingers brush hair from Tommie’s face to see her better, she’s just made a comment on how the guys in the music industry in LA rival the childishness of frat boys and Tommie’s drunken mind had found it incredibly funny. Head tilted back on the sofa as she gasps for breath.

Roxanne smiles again and lets her hand rest against her collar bone for a few seconds.

Tommie goes quiet when the fluttering in her stomach is revealed not to be the alcohol like she’d assumed but a swarm of butterflies.

She wets her lips and her eyes soften as Roxanne goes on to tell a story about a guy she hooked up with who was a bassist and gave horrible head. Tommie’s about to butt in with a story of her own when they’re interrupted.

“Hey, Babe.”

Roxanne smiles as she stands, long slender arms wrapping around an equally as beautiful man, “Hey, honey.”

Tommie’s smile slowly fades as she watches them get off for two minutes too long.

Roxanne pulls back and looks down at her, “This is Tommie.”

“Hi.”

“Hey, nice to meet you.”

He turns back to Roxanne and she sends an apologetic look over his shoulder to the younger girl, “Ready to leave? I’m exhausted.”

She nods, leaning beside Tommie to grab her purse, her hand brushes against the skin of Tommie’s thigh exposed by the slit in the dress.

Tommie’s face flushes at how quick warmth spreads between her legs and she gulps as she clenches her thighs together.

“Hopefully I’ll see you around again?”

She nods, “Hopefully.”

Caleb passes by them, exchanging friendly words with Roxanne’s boyfriend who he seems to know, he leans down to kiss her lips, “Making new friends?”

“Yeah… yeah, new friends.”

“Ready to go?”

His hands land on her waist and she finally drags her eyes away from the silver dress to his, he leans forward to kiss her deeply and she finds herself pulling away, “I’m too drunk to do anything tonight.”

He nods, “You don’t need an excuse, babe, if you’re not up for it just tell me.”

She nods, “I want to, I’m just drunk and don’t want to spew on your dick.”

He laughs with a nod, “Okay.”

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ

Because this chapter is so short here's a sneak peak of the next one

“One minute.”

“Tom…”

“One minutes to explain or I start hurting people-”

Adam sighs, “Tommie, just wait until Matty’s better-”

“What the fuck is going on!”

“He OD’d.”

Adam and Ross’ heads snap towards George who shrinks back into his seat slowly.

They’d kept it a secret. The three of them. For four fucking years. 

Then George had to open his big gob at the wrong moment.

“George!”

“What?”

“It’s about time she knows!” George defends himself. “I’m tired of keeping this secret if he’s going to be doing this to himself again.”

“Again?”

She pauses, looking around the three of them, “What do you mean aga- again? What do you mean George?”

He stays silent, eyes looking down, “George? G, what do you mean again? Again? Again what? Another OD? This happened before? Again? A-Again? Ads? Again? Ross..? What does again mean?”

She steps back, brows furrowed, breathing uneven as she looks between them all.

Adam stands slowly from the settee, hands outstretched, “Tommie…”

taglist

@thereisaplaceintheheart, @indierockgirrl, @sofaritsalrightt, @julezs-bl0g, @eaglestar31, @sophinthealpss, @noacfemcel, @if-my-heart-bleeds, @befrwime, @fallingforel, @sexorchocolateorpillowsorclouds, @3terna15unshin3, @1975sophie1975, @thesocraticjunkiewannabe, @littlesoldierelleora, @procrastinatinglikeapro

-let me know if you want to be added :)

[wake-me-up-inside-imagines]

Could you write something angst-y again about your characters Leo, Micah and Rain? It's mostly up to you, but maybe something about Leo struggling with self harm in secret, but his partners notice and comfort him?

And btw i really love stories and headcanons about your ocs, i like the way you write each character's actions/personality ^^

Aww than you so much, and sure thing! This was something I was meaning to write anyway, so I hope you enjoy!

Also, this is not going to be a happy story. There's definitely comfort, don't get me wrong, but it's not going to end super happy. I wrote this to be a prequel to a series I have running on ao3 (not sure if you're someone who came from my ao3 or not, but if you're not, it's called You Know These Beautiful Thoughts You Always Think?), so it's not going to really result in full comfort/mental improvement in this specific fic.

Also also, just want to make this clear: DO NOT DO WHAT LEO DOES. This is meant to display how not ok he is, his mindset is not healthy in the slightest. Please do not believe that recovery isn't possible like Leo does, because it is, and it's worth it. Just don't replicate any of this at all. If you're struggling with self-harm, please get help, it's worth getting better.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. HEED THE TRIGGER WARNINGS, IT IS NOT ON ME IF YOU IGNORE THEM.

With that, I hope you enjoy!

Is a the Relief Worth The Deception?

Crossposted on my ao3

TW: Graphic depictions of self-harm, razor blades, extremely unhealthy mindsets, Suicide mentions, anxiety, self-hatred, panic attacks, mentions of dysphoria, blood and gore, kinda dead dove: do not eatish, non-sexual nudity, not so happy ending. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 11,182

Divider credit goes to @cafekitsune

Sometimes, Leo felt like he was drowning.

Overwhelming emotions often swirled inside of him, creating a typhoon of self-hatred and overwhelming despair that filled him until he felt he would burst at the seams. Everything would become too much, whether it be the largest of problems or the smallest of inconveniences. His mind was flooded with endless tragedies, reminders of his shortcomings in practically every field of life, his thoughts becoming sharp winds battering at the sides of his skull until the pressure was almost too much. 

Leo was frequently overcome by such moments. The floodgates of his failures, his flaws, would open up, and he would begin sinking, the swirling waters only serving to drag him down the longer he struggled to stay afloat. 

But he had a saving grace. A life vest that not only helped keep him afloat, but also released the water from his being, relieving the pressure his thoughts created within the body that wasn't big enough to contain all the pain.

Ordinarily, metal would sink, bringing anyone unfortunate enough to cling to it under. But in the torrents of Leo's mind, it floated.

It wasn't a perfect solution by any means. It kept him afloat, but the marks it left behind remained for a long time, a stinging pain that hurt long after Leo had needed them to. Oftentimes, the marks were far from disappearing by the time Leo needed to use it again, creating even more marks, until the entirety of his lower chest was covered in them, red and angry and scabbing up in itchy lines. And then, of course, there were his boyfriends, who certainly wouldn't approve of Leo's method of coping, if they were to find out. Although the marks were often hidden from view, covered by the fabric of Leo's clothes, it was hard to keep them a secret when Rain was so touchy, and Micah was so observant, and fuck, their hands are getting a little too close to his marks for comfort-

But it was fine. He'd find a way to keep them hidden. He could fake his way through it, really, he could. He'd survive. He'd gotten this far. He'd gone this many years using such a solution, he saw no reason to stop now. He couldn't get better, he knew this well, but he didn't need to. He was fine. Nobody would find out. 

Until they did.

He wasn't sure why it had been such a rough day, he really didn't. Nothing went wrong, everything had been fine, so why did his brain decide that now would be the time to relentlessly torment him?

His past mistakes were haunting him, dragging him down into the deep murky depths of his self-hatred. It didn't matter that he had changed, it didn't matter that he'd become a different person, he was disgusting, and always would be. He was a terrible individual, one who wasn't deserving of a good life. He didn't deserve his boyfriends, or his friends, or his family, or any of the blessings he'd been gifted with. He was a disgrace of a human, the lowest of the low, a person with absolutely no worth in any regard. It didn't matter how hard he tried to be better, because at the end of the day, he would always be the same person as before. He wasn't worthy of love.

He gasped for air, but there was nothing there. He was drowning again.

His skin was crawling, itching. He needed to calm the storm, he needed to let the pressure out. He needed release.

His boyfriends had come over earlier. They were still there, sleeping peacefully besides Leo, covered in his blankets as they rested on his bed. It was late, way too late for Leo to be awake, and way too late for these kinds of thoughts to be beating against his skull. But they were there anyway, oblivious to the time, leaving Leo to struggle desperately against the waves of his mind while Rain and Micah slept peacefully beside him, completely unaware of anything.

Normally, Leo would never have risked coping in such a way while there were people anywhere nearby, especially not his boyfriends, but...

They were asleep. They wouldn't know, would they? All he had to do was be quiet, and nothing would go wrong.

Leo looked to his sleeping boyfriends, and then looked down at himself. Was it worth it? Was the reward worth the risk? Especially when the risk was so close?

The winds battering his skull decided that it was. 

Slowly, as not to disturb Micah and Rain's sleep, Leo unwrapped Rain's arms from around his waist and clambered out of the bed, swinging his legs over the side and dropping down as silently as he could. His feet didn't make a sound as they connected with the carpeted floor, and without much hesitation, Leo stood up, sliding off the bed and making his way to the bathroom door. He'd never been more thankful to be on the outside part of the bed than he was in that moment, especially since he normally slept in between his boyfriends. He would have had to crawl over their bodies to get off the bed if that had been the case that night, but luckily for him, he had chosen to be on the outside that night. If he was going to drown, at least he'd do it when it was more convenient. 

It was hard to navigate the dark room without his glasses, but Leo made due, shuffling around the blurry objects he could make out without bumping into them, successfully making it to the bathroom door. As quietly as he could, Leo shuffled his way into his bathroom, closing the door behind him at an agonizingly slow pace. Thankfully, the door made no noise as it shut, and Leo breathed a sigh of relief, flicking on the light once the door had fully shut. 

His eyes roamed around the room, blinking rapidly against the harsh, unnatural lights that had flooded the bathroom. As soon as his sight adjusted, Leo tip-toed his way to his sink and bent down, his knees popping underneath him as he lowered himself to the ground. He silently grabbed the handle to the cabinet door, still careful not to make too much noise, opening them up and peering inside. A bunch of his stuff was there, a lot of it looking forgotten and unused, but Leo ignored it, instead rooting around in the back of the cabinet, sticking his hands under the cluttered objects and feeling around until his hands hit a familiar, rather large, cardboard box. Leo's fingers wrapped around the corner of the box, pulling it out from the mess of a cabinet he had, careful not to let anything else resting there fall down. 

The packaging wasn't anything special, it was just a regular, average box that most shaving razors came in. The simple, unassuming design was exactly why Leo stashed his spare razor blades there. If anyone were to find it, they would just assume he had a spare shaving razor tucked away in there, in case his current one broke. Opening up the box would reveal a decent amount of blades, clean and shiny, a lot more than what should be in any one razor box. 

Shaky fingers grabbed one of these razors, quickly pocketing it before closing the box and shoving it back under the sink, far away from where any wandering eyes would find it. Having found what he came for, he closed the cabinet doors, slowly stood back up, and made his way back to the bathroom door, flicking off the light and enveloping himself in darkness before opening the door back up and stepping outside. It took a moment for his eyes to begin seeing through the gloom, but once he did, he made his way to the bedroom door, his destination set firmly in his mind. He grabbed the doorknob and twisted, pushing the door open without making a creak.

Leo padded out through the doorway, his footsteps nearly soundless as he crept into the wider apartment. He couldn't use the bathroom attached to his room, he knew that. His boyfriends would surely wake up if he did, and he couldn't let that happen. He needed to avoid them waking up at all costs, lest they find out about his struggles. So, that only left one place he could hide away: Natalia's bathroom. It was just down the hall, far enough away from his bedroom for his boyfriends to remain blissfully unaware of his absence. It's a good thing Natalia wasn't there to catch him. She was at Stella's, far away from Leo and his hurricane of emotions. 

Taking one last backward glance at the bedroom doorway, Leo snuck into the bathroom, his feet crossing over from wood to tile. His hand found the doorknob behind him and pulled it shut, careful to avoid slamming it loud enough for his boyfriends to hear. His feet led him to the base of the tub, his hands habitually finding the faucet's handle and twisting it as far left as it would go. Water immediately began pouring from the tap, the noise thundering in Leo's ears, and he swiftly yanked the little handle on top of the faucet to direct the water to the showerhead. The water stopped pouring from the tap, instead beginning to fall from the shower itself, the little patter's of water on the tub still audible, but far less loud than before. 

Leo waited a moment, cocking his ear towards the door. He listened for what felt like minutes, on high alert, but he heard no sounds near the door. He was safe.

Breathing out a large sigh of relief, Leo began undressing, making sure to remove the razor blade from his pocket before stepping out of his sleep shorts. Once those were gone, Leo removed his boxers, and then his shirt, pulling it over and off from around his head in a swift, efficient motion. Leo didn't sleep in his binder, so he was left completely naked, his chest and lower areas exposed to the chilly apartment air. He grabbed a clean towel from under the sink, laying it gently on the floor in front of him.

Taking in a shaky breath, Leo grabbed the razor blade from where he left it on the edge of the sink, turned back towards the shower, and stepped in, careful not to hit his feet on the rim of the tub. He stood there, his back being pelted with the hot, steaming shower water, looking down at the razor blade he was holding in the palm of his hand. Was it really worth it? Was it worth doing this right now?

The itchy, nearly unbearable crawling in his skin decided it was. His body craved a release, and this was the only way to satisfy that need. He was in too deep anyway, he might as well get on with it. 

Looking down at himself, Leo ignored the chest that caused him so much grief, instead focusing on the skin directly below it. There were already marks there, and even more scars underneath them, the thin white lines permanent reminders of how long he had been doing this for. The fresher marks were healed over, still red, but no longer open wounds. Leo could change that. 

WIthout hesitating, Leo dragged the edge of the razor blade against his skin, splitting the area in half, deep enough that it immediately began bubbling up with blood. Leo watched, fascinated, as the crimson liquid spilled over the skin, rolled downwards and leaving a gory river behind. This was always one of Leo's favorite parts. He recognized how sick it was, but a part of him was always relaxed at the sight of his blood leaking out from his body. It was kind of beautiful, in a disgusting, twisted way. 

Leo broke eye contact with the bead of blood trailing down his body, and continued on. He slashed at his skin, each new line bringing a fresh wave of blood, rolling down his naked body in red rivulets. The rivers would eventually get washed away by the shower water, but the cuts wouldn't stop bleeding for a while, more blood spilling over until the process began repeating itself. The razor blade traveled downwards, sliding across any skin that was still intact, letting out more of the sweet, crimson liquid. Leo closed his eyes. His torso had become a mess of red, bloody lines, but he didnt care, too engrossed in the stinging pain and the feeling of relief he got to notice much. It felt nice to hurt. It made him feel better, to get what he deserved. 

He was so focused on the pain and pressure that he didn't hear the door opening up, nearly screaming when a voice spoke through the crack in the door. 

"Leo? Dude, are you ok, it's way too late to be showering-"

Leo's head snapped to the side, his hands immediately trying to pull the shower curtain over his exposed body before Rain saw what he had been up to. It was too late though, Rain's widened eyes were already trained where the cuts had been visible only seconds ago. 

Fuck. He had forgotten to lock the stupid fucking door, and now he was screwed, he really couldn't do anything right, could he-

Rain inhaled a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving the portion of the curtain now covering Leo's cuts. Leo kept his eyes trained on Rain's form, trying to read whatever emotion was on his face, but besides his wide eyes, Rain's expression was unreadable, probably due to how fuzzy his features looked to Leo's glassesless eyes. He seemed frozen in place, almost as if the sight of Leo's injuries had short circuited something in his brain. 

Rain's mouth opened slowly. "Leo-"

"I'm fine." Leo snapped, his words suspiciously defensive. His hands were trembling. This was never supposed to happen, they weren't supposed to find out, what was he meant to do now? They couldn't know, they'd make him stop, or worse they'd leave him, were they going to leave him? They couldn't do that, he wouldn't recover, shit, why did he have to be such a screw up- "I just wanted to shower. Please leave."

Rain's mouth snapped shut. His eyes flicked from Leo to the curtain, and then to the rim of the tub, and then back to Leo. Leo tracked where his eyes had gone, and winced when he noticed there were a few pinkish drops of water sitting on the edge of the bath. He hadn't realized that there were bloody drops anywhere visible, there was really no way he was going to be able to play this off, was there?

Leo's eyes spotted movement, but before he could even figure out what was happening, Rain was in front of the shower, his feet tripping over the plunger Leo kept next to the front of the shower. He managed to catch himself on the wall before reaching behind the curtain and shutting the shower off with one swift flick of his wrist. His hand then moved to the curtain, trying to pull it back enough for him to see Leo, but Leo intercepted him, grabbing onto the curtain and keeping it where it was currently placed. 

"Dude, what the fuck was that for?" Leo squeaked out, holding onto the shower curtain with a death grip. He hated how scared his voice sounded, he hated how it had gotten high pitched with sheer terror, he hated the ice in his veins that was forcing him to tremble, he hated that there was no way he was going to get out of this. One hand let go of the shower curtain, frantically rubbing at the cuts on his torso, but no matter how hard he scrubbed, the blood on his skin didn't disappear, only spreading further across his body and hand. The cuts continued to bleed with nothing to wash it away, which now that Leo thought about it, was probably Rain's intention in the first place. He couldn't hide what he'd done now, it was only a matter of time before he lost the battle with the curtain.

"Leo, baby, I need you to let go." Rain sounded no less panicked than Leo himself felt, although he seemed to be doing a better job at hiding it. His hands tugged incessantly at the curtain, but Leo wouldn't release it, holding it to his body like a vice. "Leo, please, I need you to get out of the shower. Just...Just let go, and step out, please."

Leo shook his head, his breathing picking up. He clutched the curtain closer to his body, his hand tightening around the razor blade still resting in his palm. He backed up, his heels hitting the back of the tub, trapping him where he was. He felt like a cornered animal. Yes, that's what he was, wasn't it? A scared, cornered animal, about to lash out at any moment. "No. I can't. I don't want to."

Rain let out a watery sigh, his eyes leaving Leo to dart around the room. He was no doubt trying to figure out how to get Leo out of the shower, but no matter what he did, Leo wasn't going to leave. Nobody could make him. He was staying right where he was until either Rain left, or he physically forced him out of the tub. He wasn't going to be exposed without a fight. 

A moment of silence passed, Rain still looking around. The only noise to be heard was Leo's harsh breathing, as well as the occasional drip of water splashing against the drain. Eventually, Rain looked back towards Leo, a newfound desperation shining in his eyes. "Leo please, I need you to come out of there. I'm not mad at you, I swear I'm not, just please, let me see, let me help you-"

"I don't need help." Leo all but growled, holding the curtain impossibly closer to his chest. His chest was heaving now, tears pricking his eyes as he hyperventilated. He backed himself further into his tiny corner, his skin meeting the painfully cool wall behind him. He wanted to scream, to yell at Rain to leave until his boyfriend disappeared, but the small amount of rational thought in his mind wouldn't let him, reminding him that Rain wasn't going to hurt him, that he was only trying to help-

A strange noise left the back of Rain's throat, a mix between a cry and a moan. His eyes stayed on Leo for another moment, dark with despair and helplessness, before his head suddenly turned back towards the open door, his mouth parting wide. "Micah!"

Leo jumped at Rain's yell, shock running through his body. "Don't!" He begged, curling up closer to the corner and whisper-yelling in terror. "Don't call Micah, I don't want him to see, please, let him sleep!"

"I'm sorry, but I have to." Rain whispered briefly looking back at Leo before turning towards the door again. "MICAH!"

Leo shook violently, his breathing completely out of control. He looked for a place to hide, but there was none, not unless he wanted to run butt-naked through his apartment, and Micah would surely catch him if he did that. But this couldn't happen, Micah couldn't come in, he couldn't, he would be so mad at him, and so disgusted, he couldn't face him, he couldn't face Rain, he needed them to leave, he needed to hurt in peace, he needed to hide, he couldn't do this let him out let him out let him out let him out let him out-

The shower curtain fell from Leo's fingers. They were trembling too hard to continue holding on. The razor blade followed suit, landing on the ground with a harsh clatter, blood still clinging to its edge. Leo's knees gave out on him, his body collapsing underneath him, his back sliding down the wall. His cuts were on full display now, still bleeding, and no matter how he tried to wrap his arms around himself, there would always be wounds visible, the blood rolling down his stomach in obvious rivelets. He had to settle for curling in a little ball, his sobs echoing off the bathroom walls as he tried to hide as much of himself as possible, his knees coming up to hide the parts of his torso his arms couldn't.

Hands rested themselves on Leo's shoulders. He flinched violently, curling up closer to himself, but the hands didn't leave his body, instead moving to grab at Leo's armpits. Leo tried to fight back, squirming away as best as he could, but the hands persisted, pulling him forward until he was being half dragged, half pulled out of the tub and onto the cold tile floor. Leo gave up fighting when his body was pulled over the edge of the tub, using the last of his strength to push himself up the extra inch or two the hands couldn't seem to get him over on their own. 

As soon as Leo fell over the edge, a warm body smushed itself against him, the hands pulling him up so that his shoulder was leaning against Rain's chest. Leo curled up into himself once again, sobs wracking his body as arms wrapped around his naked back, pulling him closer to Rain's own body. 

"I've got you dragonfly, I've got you." Rain whispered, his own voice thick with tears. Leo felt material wrap around him, covering up his bare body as it trembled against Rain. His towel. Rain must have picked it up right after pulling Leo to him. "It's ok sweet boy, it's ok. Everything's gonna be ok, but I need you to breathe. Do you think you can do that? Breath with me, feel my chest rising and falling. Breathe baby, breathe."

Leo tried, attempting to time his breaths with the motion of Rain's chest, but he simply couldn't. Everything was too overwhelming, the fact that he had been caught never leaving his mind. He tried to suck in steady breaths, but his lungs wouldn't cooperate, his chest heaving as he tried to get any amount of air in his system. He could still feel blood dripping down his body, surely soaking into Rain's white sleep shirt by now, and the knowledge of what he had done to himself only contributed more to his panicked breathing. 

"Rain? Rain? Where are you? What's going on? Is Leo with-" Micah's voice drew closer before cutting off. Leo couldn't see him, his face was buried in Rain's chest after all, but he could hear Micah's footsteps well enough to know that he had found them, and was probably standing right outside the bathroom. "Shit, what's going on? Is Leo ok? Why..." He trailed off, for what reason, Lo couldn't be sure. "Why is there blood on the floor?"

Leo could feel Rain shaking his head, turning slightly to look at their confused boyfriend. "No, he's not ok, not even a little bit. He's hurt." His head turned back to Leo. "Leo, bug?"

A small whine left Leo's lips. He was still shaking violently, his sides shaking inconsistently with each breath. He pressed himself closer to Rain, trying to hide himself as much as possible, but he knew he couldn't keep Micah from seeing him when footsteps sounded out again, going around and behind him before another warm body enveloped his back. 

"Sweetheart? What's going on? Where are you hurt? Why are you hurt?" Micah asked, concern flooding his voice. He wrapped his own arms around Leo, his arms accidentally brushing against where Leo's cuts were. His arms withdrew when Leo flinched, instead moving to place his hands on Leo's curled up back. "Baby?"

The towel wrapped around Leo's body moved slightly, fingers slightly pulling at it. "Leo, can you let Micah see?"

Leo froze with shame and fear. No, no, Micah couldn't see. He couldn't be allowed to see what he'd done to himself. He clutched the towel closer to him, shaking his head in Rain's chest. He wouldn't show Micah, he couldn't.

"Please sweetheart?" Rain asked, his voice breaking. He cleared his throat, his fingers rubbing circles on Leo's back. "He's not going to be mad, I promise. We can't clean you up if we can't see where you're hurt. You need to let us help you."

Leo didn't react, but he loosened his hold on the towel, allowing Rain to tug it off of his body. It was like all the fight in him had left at once, leaving him a defeated, exhausted shell of himself. He couldn't fight them off anymore. It didn't matter anyway. Rain already knew, towel or no towel, and he would have ended up telling Micah outright if Leo had continued to refuse showing off his cuts, so really, what could he do? It didn't matter, they'd end up hating him anyways, he couldn't avoid it any longer. Might as well get it over with.

The towel was pulled off of Leo's body, slowly dragging up his skin until it had been completely removed from covering him up. His shivering grew even more intense, both due to the cold, and due to his immense fear of Micah's reaction. Micah wasn't saying anything, he wasn't making any noise at all, but Leo knew his cuts must be visible by now, with nothing left to hide them. Besides the cuts themselves, there was a lot of blood spread all across his body, not to mention the rather obvious bloodstains now soaked into Rain's previously white sleep shirt. It would have been impossible for Micah to miss what had happened now.

A shaky, sharp intake of breath sounded out from behind Leo. "Oh, baby..."

Leo crumpled into himself even more, burying his tear streaked face into Rain's shoulder. He didn't want pity. He didn't need it. He was strong, he wasn't a crybaby, he didn't need anyone else to deal with, or even see his problems.

His hands went to cover up his cuts, desperate to block them from view, the painful sting of his skin against his wounds doing nothing to help him, not like it normally did. He forced his tears back, no longer allowing himself to cry, forcing his breathing to smooth out into more deep, calming breaths. Rain's arms wrapped around him tighter, his lanky boyfriend whispering reassurances of love and safety in his ear, but Leo barely heard him, too wrapped up in his shutdown attempt to pay much attention to what was going on around him. 

"Micah," Rain started, his voice barely a whisper. "There's a first aid kit under the sink in Leo's bathroom. Can you grab it?"

Micah didn't say anything, but Leo felt him hesitantly pull away, his loud footsteps thundering in his ears as Micah left the bathroom, his form growing further and further away. Leo barely paid attention to what was going on around him, he was too tired to, instead allowing his mind to drift away, to distract himself from the reality he so desperately wanted to avoid. His mind tormented him, reminding him of how pathetic he was for forgetting something as simple as a lock on a door, but he barely acknowledged his thoughts, simply accepting them as they were while he tried to wipe his mind of any emotion or thought. He hadn't even realized Micah had come back, not until he felt someone kneel down behind him.

Hands placed themselves on Leo's back and shoulder, softly tugging at him. "Leo, my dearest love, can you face forward? I need to see you a little better."

Leo complied, his joints aching slightly as he pulled away from Rain's body. The cuts that had been directly pressed against Rain's shirt tried desperately to cling to the fabric, pulling small portions of the shirt along with them, but soon had to let go, the force of Leo's movement separating them. Leo shifted so that he was facing Micah directly, forcing the most neutral look he could possibly manage onto his red, tear streaked face. He didn't look Micah in the eye, instead staring at his boyfriend's torso through half-lidded eyes.

Micah's gaze searched Leo's, seemingly unnerved by how suddenly stoic he looked, trying to find even the slightest bit of emotion on his face. When he couldn't find any, he swallowed, his eyes moving back to the gruesome, crimson cuts littering a good portion of Leo's torso. "I'm gonna clean these up now." Micah whispered gently, pulling out a wet washcloth. When had that gotten there? Did he wet it in Leo's bathroom? Did it matter? "This is gonna sting a little, ok?"

Leo suppressed a small, humorless snort. Yes, because the stinging sensation was the biggest of his concerns. It's not like he had cut himself to ribbons for that exact feeling or anything, right? "That's fine." 

It looked like Micah wanted to say more, but he refrained, instead exhaling before pressing the washcloth as gently as he could to Leo's irritated skin. He was right, it did sting, but no more than it had in the shower, when water was actively pelting against the open wounds. Water droplets rolled down his stomach, slightly pink from the blood still clinging to his skin, but they were soon wiped up by the washcloth, Micah making his way down Leo's bdy in slow, steady motions. Despite the decent amount of blood coating Leo's skin, it looked like most of his injuries had stopped bleeding, save for a couple, slightly deeper ones, but even those had slowed from full on bleeding to lazy oozing, nowhere near as intense as before. Micah wiped those ones down a couple more times, his eyes drifting sadly from one cut to the next, until all the cuts had stopped bleeding, pink and puffy instead of red and puffy. Not much of an improvement, but it would do.

Once Micah had finished up, he pulled away, setting the now bloody washcloth to the side. "Are you ok?"

Leo nodded, still not looking at Micah's eyes. "Yeah."

"...Ok." Micah whispered. Leo could tell he was being cautious, walking on eggshells around Leo for his sake, but Leo knew he didn't have to. He wasn't going to break down crying again. He wouldn't. He wasn't that pathetic, although he knew his current position wasn't doing much to reaffirm that idea. 

Micah reached behind him, grabbing a little red box with the first aid symbol plastered across the front. "...I need to put some disinfectant on your cuts. They'll get infected if I don't."

"I don't think they will." Leo murmured. He watched as Micah pulled some cotton balls out of the box, and then a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, uncapping the chemical and dumping some onto one of the balls. "They've never gotten infected before, I don't see why that'll change this time."

Rain sucked in a breath from behind Leo, his arms tightening around Leo's naked stomach. Oh yeah, he was naked still. He forgot about that. "This isn't...This isn't the first time you've done this?"

"No, not even close." Leo knew he sounded like an ass, like an emotionless shell, but he couldn't help it. He didn't know what else he was supposed to do. He wasn't going to let himself be any more vulnerable than he had to be, and that started by shutting off any and every emotion he was feeling, repressing everything in his brain until he no longer felt human. 

Micah closed his eyes briefly, taking in a deep, long exhale before opening his eyes again, bringing the hydrogen peroxide covered ball to Leo's wounds. They stung, of course they did, but Leo barely registered the pain, instead just letting himself drift within his own mind again. He stared past Micah's shoulder, ignoring the feeling of the fluffy cotton ball running over each and every cut on his body, his eyes settling on the bright gleam of the razor blade, it's small, silver form sitting at the bottom of the tub. He could barely see it, but even with that tiny glimpse, he could feel himself being drawn to the blade, desperate for the stinging sensation only it could provide. This sting of the chemicals hurt, but not in the way he needed. No, only the blade could do that. 

"Micah," Rain spoke up, nearly scaring Leo into flinching. "There's a razor blade in the bathtub. He dropped it earlier, when I called for you. Can you grab it and hide it, somewhere Leo can't see it?"

Fuck. Curse Rain and his ability to see where Leo was looking. It must have been obvious that he was transfixed by the blade from the angle his head was tilted, although he never even considered Rain would be able to track his line of vision so well. Leo averted his eyes, looking to the floor, but Micah had already begun moving, leaning backwards enough for his arm to be able to reach into the tub and pluck the blade out. He held it between his fingers, seemingly unsure of where to put it, before dropping it into his pocket, the best spot he was going to get at this moment. At the very least, Leo couldn't see it or get to it anymore, much to his disappointment.

"I don't want you looking at it anymore." Rain's lips brushed up against Leo's ear, a small whisper leaving them. "You don't need to see that."

It wasn't like Leo could've done anything with it anyway, but he didn't say that, instead continuing to look at the floor, fading out. 

Hands found their way to Leo's torso, fingers just barely avoiding his fresh cuts. "We need to bandage these up." Micah murmured, trying to loo Leo in the eye. "It'll keep them clean." 

Leo didn't say anything, not even when Micah continued staring at him, attempting to catch his eye. He could feel his boyfriends look at each other over his shoulder, but he didn't have enough energy to care, barely mustering up enough strength to raise his arms high enough for Micah to wrap fresh bandages around him, until a solid portion of his torso was covered with the strong material. At least his cuts weren't visible anymore.

Micah finished up, taking the roll of bandages and putting them back in the first aid box, the rest of the materials used quick to follow. He closed the box up, pushed it to the side, and without any warning, wrapped his arms around Leo and crushed him to his chest. Leo jumped with surprise, but Micah didn't loosen his hold, one hand coming up to hold the back of Leo's head closer. 

"How long?" Micah whispered, his lips pressed against Leo's neck. "How long have you been doing this to yourself? There were so many scars underneath the blood, old ones and newer ones, how long have you been hurting like this without us knowing?"

Leo had stiffened up at the initial contact, but he relaxed in Micah's hold, resigning himself to his current position. He thought back, trying to do the math in his head. "Uhhh," he started, thinking hard. If he had started that one September, all those years ago, and it was currently February, then... "I mean, I started when I was thirteen, so that would mean..."

"You started when you were thirteen?!" Rain practically yelled out, completely stunned. Both Micah and Leo winced at the noise so close to their ears, but Rain paid them no mind, too wrapped up in his shock to notice. "Leo, you've been doing this for years?!" And nobody noticed? How did we not notice?!

Leo leaned his head against Micah's neck, too tired to lie. There was no point, it wouldn't help him hide this in the future, he might as well be honest. "Oh they did, I just got better at hiding it." He said, shrugging his shoulders. "I started with my arms, and then someone found out and got mad at me, so I moved to my torso. Nobody sees me without my shirt on, so it was easy to keep my cuts and scars hidden. It would have stayed hidden if I had just remembered to lock the stupid door..."

"I'm glad you didn't!" Rain cried, grief lacing his voice. "I knew something was wrong when you were gone, in the shower at this hour. All this time we've known you, and we never noticed. Lord, we're the worst, I can't believe we never figured it out, why you never take your shirt off, why you never let us see you naked-"

"It's really not a big deal," Leo cut him off, trying to sound reassuring. "It's just a couple of cuts. They heal after a bit, they aren't really even all that deep. It's not like I'm trying to kill myself, or even hurting myself where I could accidently kill myself, it's not that bad compared to other stuff I could be doing."

A stunned silence followed Leo’s words. He couldn’t see either of his boyfriend’s faces from this angle, but he was sure he had said the wrong thing, because both of their holds on his body tightened significantly. 

“Leo…” Micah whispered, his voice thick with…tears? That’s weird, Micah never cried, why would he start doing so now? “You’re hurting yourself. How could that possibly not be a big deal? It doesn’t matter that the cuts aren’t lethal, you’re still in pain, and you’re still marking your body up. How could we possibly not care about what you’re doing to yourself?”

Leo stayed silent for a moment. “…I’d be in more pain if I couldn’t do it.” He settled on, his voice embarrassingly unconvincing. He knew his boyfriends wouldn’t accept that answer, if anything, it would make them even more concerned, but he didn’t know what else to say. How was he supposed to make them understand just how badly he needed to hurt? How was he meant to convey his emotions, so strong he would drown in them, unable to reach the surface without this one, small vice? It was a necessary sacrifice he had to make for stability, one he knew his boyfriends could never hope to understand, not unless they somehow ended up swapping brains. 

“Why?” Rain asked, choking on his tears. A few small, wet drops landed on Leo’s shoulder. “What’s making you do this to yourself? What is making you hurt so much that the only solution is bringing yourself more pain?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” Leo responded. He wanted to wince at how uncaring he sounded, but he couldn’t find the energy to put more emotion in his voice. He didn’t want to talk about this any more, he didn’t want to acknowledge the cuts on his chest. He was done with thinking about them, the pain was no longer serving its purpose, there was no point dwelling on it any longer. He wasn't someone who was capable of getting better, so there was no point trying. He just wanted to go back to bed. "It's not going to change anytime soon, so there's no point worrying about it."

"There's no point? It doesn't matter?" Rain sounded incredulous, his voice rising in pitch with disbelief. Before Leo could respond, he was pulled backwards and around, his body being spun until he was facing Rain directly. Rain had an intense look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed with what looked to be anger, but the tears spilling from his eyes proved he wasn't angry, not really, anyway. "Baby, nothing could possibly matter more than your wellbeing. You're physically hurting yourself, and I imagine you wouldn't be doing so if you weren't mentally hurting on top of that. Something has to be going on for you to be doing this, nobody hurts themself for no reason. You are not ok right now, and instead of letting us help you, you're shutting us out."

Rain turned his head away for a second, blinking away tears. Leo wanted to reach out and wipe them away, he hated seeing his boyfriend cry, but before he could make any moves, Rain turned back toward him, hugging Leo closer and resting his lips on Leo's forehead. "We love you so, so much, dragonfly." His voice was soft, much softer than it had been before, almost like all the frustration he must have been feeling had drained away in an instant. "We love you so much, and we never want to see you hurt like this. But you are, and instead of opening up, you're turning yourself off so you won't have to face something that's scaring you, like you always do. I know you hate being vulnerable, I know it scares you, but you need to let us in. We can't help you out if you won't explain what's going on."

Leo didn't know what to say. Rain was right, of course he was, but it didn't make anything less overwhelming. He didn't know how to keep himself from shutting down. He didn't know how to let his walls down and let people in. He didn't know how to let others help him emotionally. His whole life he'd been strong, keeping everything to himself and pushing his emotions down, because he could handle it on his own, he really could. He'd never let anyone in, because he wasn't weak, he wouldn't allow himself to be. But how was he supposed to react when he was confronted like this, forced to face what he was trying so hard to repress? 

Leo hated how Rain could clock him so easily. He hated that he was an open book, no matter how hard he tried not to be. Maybe he was weak. Surely someone who was strong wouldn't have been so easy to figure out, right?

Strong arms found their way around Leo's still exposed waist. Micah's chest pressed firmly up against Leo's back, warming him up as he struggled with his words and thoughts. "Take all the time you need," he murmured, kissing the back of Leo's head gently. "We're not going anywhere. We know this is difficult for you, so we'll wait as long as you need us to."

"...I..." Leo paused. What was he even supposed to say? How was he supposed to make them understand? "...I...I just get...really overwhelmed sometimes."

Leo chewed on his tongue, contemplating what else he was meant to say. Rain and Micah remained silent, although their eyes were trained intently on Leo, waiting patiently for him to continue (well, Leo couldn't actually see Micah's eyes, but he could feel them boring into the back of his skull, so he knew his other boyfriend was paying attention). "I don't...I don't handle overwhelming emotions very well. I never have. When I get really sad, or really angry, or really disappointed with myself, or just really upset overall, it feels like I'm about to burst with the pressure and clutter of everything I'm feeling all at once. I don't know how to make it all go away. I've tried other coping mechanisms, but they never work fast enough. Hurting seems to be the only way to regulate my emotions well enough to manage. I never really thought of it as that much of a big deal, to be honest. I mean yeah, it hurts, but it's not the worst thing in the world. Cuts heal, scars don't bother me, it just seemed like a decent solution to a problem I can't otherwise solve."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a while. Leo felt like he may have said something wrong, or not been clear enough with his words, but before he could backtrack, Micah piped up from behind him. 

"So..." he started, drawing out the word in a contemplative manner. "You're using self-harm to punish yourself? You feel like you need to hurt whenever you're upset with yourself?"

"I mean, yes, but also no?" Leo responded, his words more unsure than he would have liked. "It's not always to punish myself, not necessarily. A lot of the time it is, I can't really pretend like it's not, but there are other times where I just...need a way to blow off steam over things that aren't related to me." He looked down at his chest, shame suddenly hitting him. Why did he have to be like this? Why was he unable to handle himself like a normal human? "I just never found a better way of coping with it all. This was better, simpler. An easy fix."

Rain looked like he was about to cry again. His bloodied arms came up to Leo's face (he hadn't noticed he had left blood on Rain's arms, he didn't mean to-), his hands tenderly placing themselves on either side of Leo's face. "Ok, that makes sense. I understand what you mean. I understand why you got addicted. But there's one thing I don't understand." Rain paused, looking down at Leo's chest briefly before looking back to meet Leo's gaze. "If it really wasn't that big of a deal, then why did you try so hard to hide it?"

Ooh. That one was tough. It brought up memories Leo would rather have forgotten. But he owed his boyfriends an explanation after all they'd witnessed, so he'd do his best to face Rain's question head on.

"I didn't want to disappoint you, or make you mad at me." He murmured, looking down at the floor. Micah's arms tightened around him protectively, but he carried on, not wanting anyone to interject. "One of my friends found out, and when they did, they weren't all that pleased with me. They got really mad, started yelling at me, it turned into this whole argument I don't really want to relive. The whole thing made me feel like I was a terrible person for coping the way I was, but despite that, it didn't make me want to stop. In fact, it made me want to hurt more. I was mad at myself, and mad at my friend for not understanding why I was doing what I was doing, and I was mad at everything that made me feel so awful all the time. I felt so alienated, so disgusting, like nobody in my life would understand me, or listen to me talk about my struggles. I thought everyone would react like my friend did, with anger. So, I hid it, and I made sure to do it better than before. That way, nobody would be mad at me for struggling, and I could keep coping in peace. It's so stupid, because I can't remember much about the argument itself, I can't remember a word that was said, but I still remember how it made me feel. I still remember how worthless the ordeal made me feel. I never wanted to feel like that again, so I didn't let anyone now, and I was never going to. Not until now..."

Tears were welling back up in Leo's eyes, and he tried to blink them away, desperate not to let himself cry again. He could get through all this, he didn't need to cry, he was better than that, stronger. He was already being too open, too vulnerable, speaking of things he had never talked about to anyone before. He didn't need to add crying on top of that. Why couldn't he be more like Micah, who almost never cried? Why couldn't he be that tough?

"Oh sweet boy," Micah spoke up, his mouth right up against Leo's ear. His fingers rubbed loving circles on Leo's stomach, soothing the skin that was actually intact. "We could never be mad at you over this. This isn't...This is something that you're struggling with, you don't deserve to feel even more alienated than you already feel. You didn't deserve what happened to you. You didn't deserve to be berated for succumbing to your mental health. You didn't deserve to feel alone, or discusting, or embarrassing. You are so, so loved, no matter how bad your mental health is, and we would never intentionally make you feel worse over something that's clearly been a battle for you." He stopped to kiss Leo's cheek, barely missing the part of Rain's hand still resting there, before pulling back. "We could never be mad at you, but we are concerned. I understand why you've turned to this as a coping mechanism, but we need to find you a better one. This is already a clear addiction, and it could get so much worse in the future. What if you end up hurting yourself to a lethal extent? What if you end up in the hospital? What if this becomes so debilitating that you have to do it more and more frequently, until it consumes your whole life? There's gotta be a better way to deal with all of this, there just has to be."

Leo sighed. "I know." And he did. He understood that his little problem could get out of control very easily, but it was hard to accept when nothing else seemed to work. What was he supposed to do when he got overwhelmed, if not hurt? He didn't think it was possible for him to get better, not when he was the way that he was. He'd accepted that he could never get better years ago, and he didn't see why that would change now, even with his boyfriends becoming aware. He was a lost cause, they just didn't know it yet.

"Then... I don't know, can you think of something, anything, that'll give you the same type of relief cutting does? Maybe drawing, or exercising, or doing that thing you do when you pace around your room for hours listening to music?" Rain asked, his voice slightly optimistic. Leo didn't have the heart to tell Rain that he wasn't capable of help. He wasn't capable of change. He was stuck the way he was, because he had never been able to get better, not even when he tried. He would never get better.

"I don't know." Leo whispered, and the tears were suddenly back. He was suddenly hit with the biggest wave of despair he had felt all night, the urge to hurt again swamping his brain until it was all he could think about. He wanted desperately to cut himself again, or to grind his palm into the pre-made cuts already littering his chest until they opened up again, but he knew his boyfriends would end up restraining him if he did, and the razor blade he had used was unobtainable, safely tucked away in Micah's pocket. He highly doubted Micah would let him grab it, and there was no way he could get it out without immediately being caught. With no way to comfort himself, Leo knew he wouldn't be able to keep himself from breaking down. It was too much, everything that was going on was too much. He could only shut himself down for so long, and it looked like his time was up. "I really don't know. I've tried some of that stuff, but it's never worked before. I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's ok! It's ok love, don't stress yourself, ok?" Micah tried to comfort Leo, his voice low and soothing, but it wasn't working very well. He must have noticed how Leo's hands were forming into claws, opening and closing with frantic movements, because he moved his hands down to grasp Leo's, holding them in one position. "We don't need to figure this out right now. This is a process, right?" 

Leo nodded hesitantly, and Micah continued. "I think maybe we should go rest a little. This has been a lot for one night, hasn't it?"

Leo nodded again, this time more enthusiastically. He would gladly take any out he could to stop talking about this, it was extremely overwhelming, which was not helping Leo's case at this moment. Anything to hide from what was going on within himself, and around him. He needed a distraction at the very least, if not pain. He pressed himself closer to Micah's chest, shifting himself so he could curl up closer to Micah's chest. 

Micah hugged Leo tightly to his torso, kissing his forehead lightly. "That's ok, I understand. This is obviously taking a toll on you. We can discuss this more tomorrow, for now, try to calm down a little. We don't need to stress. We'll figure this out. Everything will be ok, we'll help you as much as we can. You will be ok, I promise. We love you so much baby, never forget that." 

Leo nodded for a third time, saying nothing. He saw Rain open up his mouth, clearly intending to argue, but his jaw shut when his eyes looked over Leo and met Micah's, clearly meeting a warning look. Leo didn't want his boyfriends to argue over this, over him, he was sure it was hard enough for them to even process what they had walked in on, but it wasn't up to him to decide what his boyfriends could and couldn't feel. They were scared and worried, and although they would probably end up expressing such emotions in different ways, it wouldn't change that they just wanted Leo to be happy and healthy.

He wasn't sure that was possible for him. How could he get better when he was...well, the way he was? 

"...We should probably get these clothes back on you, huh?" Rain whispered, looking down at the pile of fabric Leo had left on the ground. Leo kept forgetting he was naked, but now that Rain had pointed it out, it was hard to ignore the biting cold that was creeping over Leo's skin, save for where Micah was pressed against him. 

"Yeah, I guess." Leo moved to stand up, holding Micah's hand as he pushed his weakened body off the ground. He was still shaking, but he was able to grab his clothes just fine, pulling his shirt over his bandaged body while his boyfriends stood by, watching his every movement with cautious eyes. Leo finished with his shirt, grabbing at his boxers and pants and pulling them up before turning back to his boyfriends, who were still watching over him. "I'm good now."

"Alright." Micah said, smiling gently at Leo. "You and Rain head back to the bedroom. I'm gonna stay here for a minute and clean the floor up."

Oh yeah. There was some of Leo's blood on the floor. Not a lot, but it was still there. Leo felt a flash of guilt for getting some of his own blood on the floor of Natalia's bathroom, but he shook it away. Without saying a word, he turned towards the door and started for the bedroom, Rain right behind him. Rain's hand shot out, grabbing onto Leo's own with a tight, needy grip, holding him close by, despite how close they already were. Once they made it out to the hallway, Rain pressed himself close to Leo's side, seemingly soaking up every inch of physical touch he could. 

They made it back to the bedroom, stumbling around furniture in the still-dark apartment until their feet hit the side of Leo's bed. Rain didn't break apart from Leo once, not even a second, still clinging on desperately to Leo's arm as he climbed into the middle portion of the bed. As soon as Leo had settled himself under the covers, Rain hopped in beside him, spooning the smaller man's back in the most protective, tight hug Leo had ever experienced from him, or at least, that he could remember. The bed still felt empty and cold without Micah's presence, but it was nice to at least have Rain with him, cuddling up to his back so securely like this. 

Rain placed his head on top of Leo's, kissing his cheek softly. "I love you." He whispered into the dark, his voice uncharacteristically quiet, despite the fact that there was no one to disturb. "I love you, I love you, I love you. I'll love you forever, my little dragonfly. Please stay safe. Please come to us the next time you feel like...like hurting yourself. I don't want to lose you."

Leo's muscles relaxed in Rain's hold. He hated how badly this was affecting his boyfriends. He hated how fearful Rain sounded, how his voice trembled with every word he spoke. He hated how he could hear and feel the little plips of tears on his skin, despite Rain's efforts to sound strong. He wished he had remembered to lock the door. He wished he could take all the pain Rain and Micah were feeling at the discovery and transfer it to himself. If he could make them forget all that had happened, not just for his sake, but for theirs, he would do it in a heartbeat. "I love you to Raindrop. I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'm here to stay, ok?"

He wouldn't promise to come to them when he wanted to hurt, nor would he promise to kick his habit. He couldn't. He was a lot of things, but he'd rather not be a liar. He wouldn't burden them with the responsibility of dealing with his issues, that wasn't their job or responsibility. They weren't therapists, it wasn't up to them to fix the unfixable. But...maybe he could pretend to get better, if only to ease their minds. That couldn't be too hard, could it? 

"Ok." Rain murmured, giving Leo's cheek one last kiss before moving his head back to the pillow behind him. "You better keep that promise."

Leo said nothing, instead scooting closer to Rain's body behind him. The door adjacent to them creaked wider, Micah's towering form entering the room as he too made his way around the bed and into his designated spot in front of Leo. As soon as he had gotten comfortable, he wrapped his arms back around Leo, smushing himself impossibly close to Leo's body. It would have felt like a regular night, if it weren't for the noticeable desperation in Micah's actions. 

"Goodnight my love." Micah murmured, his voice low and soothing. "We'll be here when you wake up. I've got you. I'll keep you safe, I promise. I love you more than words can possibly express."

"I love you too. Leo echoed, moving his head forward enough to kiss Micah's neck. He wrapped his own arms around Micah, hugging his boyfriend closer to himself. "Thank you, for everything. I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize baby." Micah nuzzled his face into the crook of Leo's neck, kissing his jaw tenderly. "I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I want to talk more about all this later, but for now, get some rest. It'll do no good to have this conversation when you're so exhausted and upset."

"Ok." Leo closed his eyes. Behind him, Rain removed one hand from around Leo's stomach, grabbing his comfort blankets closer and putting them beside Leo's chest. Leo tucked his nose into them, thankful to have them nearby, and with that, he tried to let himself drift.

He faded surprisingly quickly. Maybe it was because he had already been tired, maybe it was because of all his heightened emotions draining him, or maybe it was just because it was so late at night, but no matter the reason, Leo's mind swiftly succumbed to the growing darkness numbing his body. Micah was right. He could think about this more tomorrow. He didn't need to think about it now, because he was safe. They weren't mad at him. He was fine, everything was fine, he was going to be ok.  

And if he wasn't planning on quitting anytime soon? Well, nobody had to know about that. He could say all the things they wanted to hear, keeping them as blissfully unaware as ever after regaining their trust. They didn't know about the little box under his sink after all, so it's not like he was out of tools to use on himself. He would be fine, he just had to be extra cautious when coping in the future. They wouldn't find out again. He'd make sure of it.

Relapsing wasn't that big a deal to him. He was strong, he could handle it, and besides, isn't this what he deserved? He'd be fine. He had to be. 

"I'm scared."

Rain's voice cut through the silence of Leo's dark room, spooking Micah into briefly tensing up. Leo was asleep between them, and Micah had honestly believed Rain was too. Guess he was wrong.

"Do you think he'll actually stop? Do you think he'll find a better coping mechanism? What if he gets really, really hurt one day? What if he dies? What if-"

Without disturbing their sleeping boyfriend, Micah took one hand off of Leo's slumbering form and placed it over Rain's shoulder. "He's gonna be ok. He's not gonna die, and he's not going to go to the hospital. We'll make sure he finds a better way of coping, I promise. We'll keep him safe. He just...needs a little support, yeah?"

"...Yeah, I guess. But... are you sure?"

Rain couldn't see Micah, but he nodded nonetheless. "I'm sure. We'll help him get better. He'll be ok. This is a very recoverable thing. It'll take some time, sure, but he'll learn to recover. It'll be ok, I promise."

"...Ok. I believe you." A pause. "I love you."

"I love you too, angel. Try to sleep well, ok?"

"Ok. You too."

Rain settled, and Micah breathed out a small sigh of relief, too quiet for anyone else to hear. If he was being truly, genuinely honest with himself, he wasn't sure his answers were actually true. It's not like the possibilities Rain had brought up hadn't crossed his mind at all, but he had tried to shake them off, determined to believe that Leo would get better. He had to get better. Anything else wasn't a possibility.

But fuck, if it hadn't shattered Micah's heart to find Leo like that, curled up in Rain's lap with blood dripping down his torso, the crimson liquid leaking from self-inflicted wounds. And hearing Leo speak of himself like a criminal, like he needed to be punished for his wrongdoings? Well, that had crushed the shattered pieces of Micah's heart into powder, until he thought he might keel over and die from the pain. He had never once considered that Leo could possibly be doing this to himself, he saw no signs, but there must have been something, right? Something he had missed, something he had overlooked, something that had ignored? How could he have possibly not known at least a little bit that this was going on?

Thirteen years old. Leo had been doing this to himself since he was thirteen years old. That was long before the three of them had started dating, long before he and Rain had even met Leo, and somehow, somehow despite how long it had been, how scarred Leo must have become, they never picked up on it. 

Leo had been destroyed. He had shut down. He had forced himself to stop feeling. He was not ok, but he didn't seem too upset with how he was doing, even going so far as to insinuate that he would be fine, that none of this was a big deal. That he would be ok to continue on like this. So could Micah really, truly be sure of Leo's safety at this moment?

No, no he couldn't. Not even a little bit. He couldn't say with one hundred percent certainty that Leo would stop, that he wouldn't hide his pain as long as he could, that he wouldn't end up severely injured, or even dead. So no, Micah couldn't tell for sure what would happen with their boyfriend, the love of their lives, their soulmate in every possible way.

But that's not what Rain needed to hear. He didn't need to know of Micah's doubts, not when he had so many of his own. Leo was all Rain had in terms of family, except for Micah of course, so to lose him would mean losing half his heart. It would kill him to lose Leo, it would kill him to even think about losing Leo. Micah couldn't do that to him.

So he hid his thoughts, put on a brave face, and continued on. Rain would never know how Micah's hands trembled as they patched Leo's injuries up, or how they had nearly dropped the razor blade several times when going to retrieve it. Rain would never know how he had cried when they left the bathroom, cleaning up the blood on the floor using the river he had created with his tears. Rain would never know of how Micah had washed his face desperately, unable to wipe the tear steaks and redness from his face, no matter how hard he scrubbed. And most importantly, Rain would never know how he had entered the bedroom and almost turned back around, the sight of Leo laying so still nearly causing him to hyperventilate with panic. 

No, Rain didn't need to know about any of that. Neither did Leo. Micah could handle the burden on his own. He could survive. He knew he could, because despite his fears, he would make sure Leo came out of this ok. He would be there as much as he could, and he would give all he had to make Leo better, all he had and then some. Leo getting worse was not a possibility. Micah couldn't let it be.

So he stayed awake, and he watched. He watched Leo's slow, deep breaths, his body twitching with life every so often. He watched as Rain fell deeper and deeper into slumber, his own fears forgotten temporarily as he drifted into dreamland. He watched over his hurt, grieving boyfriends, each one injured in their own ways, slept peacefully, their worries slipping from their shoulders until the moment they woke once again. 

He watched, refusing to rest. What else could he do? He wouldn't let his boyfriends, the loves of his lives, the planets his life revolved around, suffer so terribly. He had to keep them together. He had to heal their wounds, to fix them up until they were the best versions of themselves they could possibly be. Who was he, if not the one who kept them safe?

He watched, and he kept guard, waiting for morning to come. Everything would be sorted out then. Everything would be ok then. But for now, he would watch. 

[zachsgamejournal]

COMPLETED: LEGO Star Wars: The Skywalker Saga

I did it, I beat the "story". While I had some fun, it ultimately felt like "work". I want to make a pass at grabbing all the collectables, but we'll see...

At this point I've played enough to ask the question: Is this a good game? Yes. Yes, it is. The graphics have a charmingly simplistic nature--which is the way of LEGO games--but the environments are very impressive: at times realistic. Besides the typical class system there's also the opportunity to buy class boosts which is an impressive addition. There's a story...from the movies. And while the voice acting is questionable at times, the movies were not well known for performances. There are tons of things to do, replay value, variety, and tons of extras. 

But then there's the other question: do I like it? Not...really. Being a good game isn't the issue. I just couldn't connect with this. The production was so focused on delivering a large galaxy of unique planets with movie-accurate aesthetics that it didn't have time to give much love to the main-line stories. I could respect this if there was hope that the side quests were going to be meaningful, but LEGO games have never been known for their meaningful side quests. They're fun and make a 12 hour game last 50 hours. But they're more interested in being silly than meaningful. 

This is why classic LEGO games worked. They took irreverent approach to retelling a familiar story. If you're familiar with the story, you don't need the story retold verbatim--instead you give some silly pantomime with LEGO-humor and people can laugh at the differences. Lord of the Rings succeeded with voice acting but cause it was taken from the film--so the story stayed true to its source. Skywalker Saga steps outside the story with unique voice acting. I was too distracted with how they got off track and what they left out to care about what they achieved. 

Anyway, some new observations: one, you can spam jump unlike what I thought earlier. I don't know why Hoth is screwed up. That's about it.

To my surprise, I enjoyed playing the original saga most. In the Complete Saga I prefer the Prequel Trilogy. The films tell a better, more epic story, and so the levels are more fun to me. because Skywalker Saga expands on the original stories with open-world gameplay, it actually makes the original stories a bit more epic themselves.

I was less impressed with the sequel trilogy. The Force Awakens is just goofy nonsense. That's JJ Abrams style. He likes to ask the questions but not answer them, which leads to a lot of wacky dramatic cliffhangers that are usually doomed to fail. Maybe I should blame his writers...doesn't matter. JJ Abrams makes disposable trash. It's entertaining, and connects with people, but it's like painting an ocean on the bottom of a kiddie pool. Anyway, Force Awakens is fun but it's a total retread and is more concerned with reintroducing you to your grandpa then breaking new Star Wars ground or significantly advancing the story and universe. Cause of that, many of the levels feel like retread: Oh I'm on a desert world, oh I'm in a Cantina, oh I'm blowing up a death star...

I was more looking forward to The Last Jedi--the best of the sequel trilogy and one of the best movies overall. But it doesn't translate well into a game. The opening works, obviously, but while following around Skywalker and facing one's nemesis across the galaxy is good cinematic storytelling it doesn't make for exciting gameplay. You mostly just walk around places. Oh well, still a great movie.

And then there's The Rise of Skywalker. Dumb. Just dumb. I feel like the goal of this film was to make as little sense as possible to prove Star Wars could make money whether it tried or not. It's really sad that this is how we end the "Skywalker Saga". There's a lot of great shows, like Andor, to help elevate the franchise. I'm hoping that this acts as the "end" of Star Wars' timeline so no one needs to watch it to make sense of any other media. But I don't know, Endgame made Thor 2 important--so there's that.

Because I didn't like the movie, there was no point in which Rise of Skywalker felt fun for me. It was just a final endurance boss preventing me from saying "I win". By the time the credits rolled I was already looking at my phone for random articles. 

So here I am, this is where I wanted to be. The story is "out of the way" and every class and planet is unlocked. Do I want to keep playing? Before I got here I thought yes, of course! I want to take this to the end! But now I'm just thinking of all the games I really want to play. I didn't love this enough to 100% it, and I didn't even 100% the Complete Saga (which I do love). 

My daughter wants to explore, so maybe I'll switch back to Oddworld for myself and then she and I can do bonus missions together.

--UPDATE--

Well good thing I didn't post this yet. I'm done with this game. Maybe if my daughter wants to play, we'll play. But for now I'm done. 

I tried to do side quests at Utapau and had not a great time. While the level seems to be pretty accurate to the film on which it's based, it wasn't very fun to get around. Sometimes I could only use a single ladder or other platformy way to climb to higher sections, but it wasn't fun to get up there and if you made a mistake hopping across rooftops, you had to do it all again. I ended up doing it alot. Also, there are missions that require you to travel to different planets to fulfill. I really wasn't interested. Maybe if this game was just "here's the Star Wars galaxy, have fun" I'd be ok with it. But having to go through the unexciting story aspects to unlock all the planets creates a barrier to that. 

I respect what they did and accomplished, but I'm not loving it.

[queer-cosette]

Thank you so much for the tag, Hale!!

1)The last book I read?

The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys by Gerard Way. It was fantastic and heartbreaking.

2)A book I recommend?

The Olivia Kidney Series by Ellen Potter. It's a supernatural mystery set in New York with a ton of humour, heartbreak, and ghosts, and not enough people have read it.

3)A book I couldn't put down?

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton. I read it in eight hours the day I got it. It was just utterly gripping.

4)A book I've read twice (or more)?

The Ruby Redfort Series by Lauren Child. I love mystery series, and the great thing about Ruby Redfort was that the final book pulled together every innocuous mysterious moment that had never been explained and made it all make sense. I think I've read the entire series twice, but I've read the second book, Take Your Last Breath, so many times that the dust jacket is utterly frayed.

5)A book on my TBR?

Dracula by Bram Stoker. You guys have got me all interested now with Dracula Daily! I just never got around to reading it when I was a teenager, but now I really want to.

6)A book I've put down?

Twilight by Stephanie Mayer. I got maybe nine pages into it before I got too fed up with Bella's lack of enthusiasm to continue. The movie was not better.

7)A book on my wish list?

I really want to read National Anthem by Gerard Way, the prequel to True Lives, but I can't find it anywhere.

8)A favourite book from childhood?

Clarice Bean: Don't Look Now by Lauren Child. What a book. Clarice's grief and confusion and anger and insecurity was so understandable and relatable to little 8-year-old Coco, and it's one of those books that is just as good rereading it as an adult as you remember it being when you first read it.

9)A book you would give to a friend?

The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out Of The Window And Disappeared by Jonas Jonasson. Please read this book, guys. I laughed so hard I got a cramp, several times. Allan Karlsson is such a hilarious protagonist, and Jonasson's narrative style is brilliant.

[Alas, no number 10]

11)A nonfiction book you own?

Scotland's Jesus by Frankie Boyle. I've reread it a few times, and it's just so very hilarious and witty in its observations about the world and life. Maybe don't read it near easily offended relatives though, in case they ask you to explain why you're laughing so hard.

12)What are you currently reading?

The Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire. My review so far is that a) there is a lot more lesbian sex than I was expecting from 19th century poetry and b) unfortunately the worst person you know just made a great point.

13)What are you planning on reading next?

I want to finish a few books that I never finished last time I tried reading them, but I think the first one on the list is Les Misérables by Victor Hugo. I still haven't finished reading it, although I know the plot by heart. I think when I last left off Cosette had just told Marius she and her father are moving to England, and he leans his forehead against a tree in despair for two hours while she cries.

No Shelfie right now because that part of my room is kind of a mess :(

tagging @theladyfae @private-bryan @swxxtcidxr @deinde-prandium

13 books!

I was tagged by @consistantly-changing (thanks!) to answer these 13 questions, tag 13 people and, if desired, add a shelfie! I looove this one!

1) The last book I read:

Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries by Heather Fawcett, which is a departure from my usual fare; I just wanted something fun and cozy. I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed it!

2) A book I recommend:

Ugh, so so many. uhhh how about The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett

3) A book that I couldn’t put down:

My Brilliant Friend by Elena Ferrante (that whole series, really)

4) A book I’ve read twice (or more):

Uprooted by Naomi Novik

5) A book on my TBR:

A new one I'm excited about that I'm on the hold list for at the library is The Warm Hands of Ghosts by Katherine Arden.

6) A book I’ve put down:

Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy. I don't know if I wasn't in the right headspace for it, or if I'm just too dumb. Probably both. I would like to try it again sometime, though.

7) A book on my wish list:

The Handbook of Bird Biology by the Cornell Lab of Ornithology

8) A favorite book from childhood:

The Secret Garden. I had a really pretty illustrated copy. I still have it, actually!

9) A book you would give to a friend:

Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

[There is no No. 10 I guess?]

11) A nonfiction book you own:

The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson ugggh it's so good

12) What are you currently reading:

Waiting by Ha Jin and The Art of Gathering by Priya Parker

13) What are you planning on reading next?

I won't actually know until I get to that point. My reading mood changes with the wind. :P

And a shelfie! It's a couple months old, but I don't feel like taking a new one. (fwiw, a LOT of these are used or gifted, and I prune/donate them regularly)

Tagging @glassprism @musicalhell @bogglebabbles @les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques @rjdaae @ladystormcrow @forestscribe4 @a-partofthenarrative @jennyfair7 @pianomanblaine @lucy-ghoul @dying-suffering-french-stalkers @lestatslestits

[galaxyedging]

Measurements

The second part of this prequel, Dress, to Wardrobe.

Dieter Bravo x you (female reader) Smut.🔞

"Am going to need some adjustments made to my outfit." Two weeks into the shoot, you had managed to avoid Dieter. It had been a month since that night, you hadn't spoken a word to each other and this was his opener. Well, if he wanted to act like it never happened, that was fine by you.

Your divorce was taking up most of your headspace, there was no room for Dieter. Finally, looking up from your work, you took him in. His shirt was barely buttoned, his hair perfectly tousled. Fine, maybe there was a little room for him.

Given how obnoxious he could be, he'd be good about the whole thing. He could have made things on set difficult for you, in stead he gave you space. Maybe there were some hidden depths within him. "The crotch is too tight. Which is surprising, since you are very familiar with my measurements there." Maybe you could find some hidden depths to drown him in.

"No problem. Just leave them on the table there." You smiled tightly, lowering your head back to your work.

"That's it? Come on. No comeback? No dig at me." He whined. "If I'd have know you were going to start avoiding me, I would never have fucked you."

"Ssshh!!" you hissed standing to look at the open door.

"No one's here. Besides who would care?"

"I care!"

"Is this because you're married?"

"Was married."

"You got a divorce? Congratulations."

You only blinked, mouth agape, like a stunned fish, in response.

"He was a scumbag. I don't see the big deal with what we did. He was cheating on you!"

"I know but I can't control his actions, only my own. I was still married when we...I should have waited."

"Aw, you think sex with me was worth waiting for?" He batted his eyelashes at you.

"I don't know. It didn't last that long for me to form an opinion." You sniped.

Clutching his chest he dropped back in your chair. "I'm wounded. For what I remember it was still long enough for you to get off. Besides, you were practically jerking me off in car then sucked my dick like there was no tomorrow. You were fucking good at it too. Who knew you were so dirty?"

He noticed you squirm at that.

"You like that, huh? Being called dirty? Why don't you come over here and give me some more reasons to call you dirty?"

"I haven't got time for you Dieter."

"According to you it would only take a few minutes."

A smirk spread across your lips at that.

"Come on." He patted his lap, lower lip stuck out in a pout. "Come on. We'll leave the door open. Maybe someone will see you riding my cock, so desperate for it that you don't care who sees."

He made a good point, you were only married on paper. Your marriage had ended before the party that night. Besides, how many more times were you going to have a handsome movie star throwing himself at you? And the only man to ever make you come just from penetration. God, your legs had shook all the way back to your own hotel room that night. He was famed for his ability to read people, adding those observations into his performances. He certainly knew how to read you. Your ex would never talk to you like that.

"Well, I'd say be quick but..."

"Such a fucking brat." He leaned forward in the chair, reaching around to slap your ass. You knew the gasp that left your mouth was a mistake. His brown eyes darkened as he pulled you down into his lap.

"Take out my dick. Use those talented little hands to make sure am nice and hard for you." His words, in that voice, had you clenching around nothing. A groan built in his chest as you obeyed.

"Maybe you can be a good girl. What do you think, can I fuck the brat out of you?" As the question left his mouth he pulled your underwear to the side and slide inside you. In one motion he buried himself to the hilt. In your drunken, lust fuelled haze you hadn't realised how big he was. The next day you thought the ache you felt was just from how rough he had been. You tensed a little. You ex had been big, riding him had been uncomfortable. He never took the time to work through it with you so you just avoided that position. However, your ex never got you as wet as Dieter did. Relaxing, you pulled yourself up his length, only for him to chase you with his hips, thrusting deep into you. Wrapping his arm around your waist he continued to set a slow pace, his deep and firm.

"Are you going slow to make sure you last?" You teased between gasps. A sharp slap cracked though the air, the hand that delivered it stayed on your ass, pulling you closer.

"Am going slow to make sure I fuck you thoroughly."

Without thinking you suddenly ground down on him, pushing him down into the chair before beginning to ride him. He practically growled into your neck. "Needy little brat. Dirty little whore. Am loving all these new sides of you."

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Pulling on his curls, you covered his mouth with yours. Muffled moans filled the air as you rode him faster.

"Shit. That's it. You gonna come for me? Milk my cock again?"

"Fuck. I can't. I need...more."

"More?" He smirked against your neck as he kissed down it, moving to your breasts to mouth at your nipples through your clothes. His long fingers slipped between your folds to circle your clit.

"Better?" He laughed as you moaned his name.

"You really need to learn to shut the hel...oh god!" Your whole body tensed as you came.

"Do you really want me to shut up? I thought you liked hearing me talk?" Standing up he carried your boneless form with him. Laying you back on the table he bent to pull off your underwear. "Don't you want hear about how pretty I think this pussy is?" His words fought to be heard over the blood rushing in your ears. Colours swirled behind your eyelids. It took you a minute to realise the heavy breathing wasn't just yours. Opening you eyes, you almost came again at the sight before you. Dieter had his head thrown back, his fist furiously working his throbbing length. Sweat ran down his neck over his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down. His plush lips formed a perfect 'O' as he came. Ropes of thick come hit your pussy. Gathering enough strength you sat up as he tucked himself away in his sweat pants. Before you could say anything the rattle of a cleaning cart interrupted. The cleaner walked behind it. Music blaring from her headphones.

"You said no one was here!" You spat at him. "I lied. I knew she couldn't hear us. Plus even if she did walk in, I am a consummate professional, she would have got a good show."

"You're an asshole."

"Who you just had sex with. Which one of us is worse?" With that he turned on his heels and left, leaving you there trying to hide your current state and to work out which one of you really was worse.

[whatsarasaid]

For that 40 question fanfic meme, I'm sorry I picked so many! 1 through 11, 13, 15, 17, 21, 23, 28, 29, 31, 37, and 38. Can't wait to see more work from you btw :)

😭 Jessica, why are you so lovely?

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Short. Delicate, careful moments. Theme and imagery-heavy. Little dialogue. Almost poetry. Focused on the human experience and (dis)connection.

​2. Is there a trope you've yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

One of these days, I'd like to take a swing at AU. I get self-conscious about it, though, ​because a) many people dislike them and b) it's my own world, and the amount of decision-making is dizzying. I'm better at observation than ideation.

3. ​​Is there a trope you wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole?

I don't write explicit content, and so that eliminates a great many tropes, and thankfully, most of the worrisome ones. Any sort of suffering for suffering's sake is off the table. Let's just say that, in general, I try to avoid gratuity and extremes.

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

If I talk about ideas, I get the gratification of having shared them without having done any of the work, and am therefore less likely to produce the actual thing! It's for everyone's benefit that I keep my cards close to my chest.

5. Share one of your strengths.

Leaving the reader going "Oh!" or "Oh." at the end of a fic.

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

The outrageous inability to write a real plot or anything long. I've studied Dan Harmon's Story Circle and Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey but run into the problem I have in many facets of life: I'm better at theory than praxis. Filling in the gaps with what actually happens in a story shatters my brain. This has everything to do with the fact that I don't think in language or events, but rather impressions. Having to translate thoughts into words is difficult enough when it's 500 words. Over 5000, and I start repeating phrases and tangling imagery and tripping over myself. It's a mess.

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

My pieces are basically snippets themselves. 😕

​​8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

Nearly every line of dialogue in scales & measure is written one or two steps away from what the characters are actually saying. The quippy humor also works well in that fic.

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

scales & measures (because it was over 5000 words) and absolute bearing (because I wrote it in a pandemic during finals​ and had many people asking for it).

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

the refrigerator and velocity were written in fugue states.​

11. ​​Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

​It's a hobby, but an important one. I used to play instruments or draw, but as I got older and busier, those skills atrophied and I could no longer express myself with them. Writing, however, has (somewhat) stayed sharp because I use it in my day-to-day, and so I can still scratch that creative itch with it. When I don't write fiction, I crust over.

13. ​What's the best writing advice you've ever come across?

Answered here. ​15. ​If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

scales & measures or ever the survivor, maybe?

17. ​Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?​ ​Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

Start-to-finish. If I'm in a real rut, out of order. No worksheets or outlines, we die like men.

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Answered here. ​23. ​Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Passing on this one. It's too overwhelming.

29. ​If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

If a story has left me wanting more, then it did it right, and anything I could add would detract.

31. ​Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I prefer to be canon-compliant if only because I have more skill in research than I do in creation. Why make it up when I can look it up? Unless I think I can make things cooler or more logical than in canon. In which case....oops. Slipped.

37. ​Talk about your current wips.

• Death Stranding prompt: Fragile partnering with the UCA. • Control ficlet: Trench and the NSC. • Silicon Valley fic(let, maybe): Sorting Richard and Jared now that Jared no longer blindly idolizes Richard. • Resident Evil fic: Carlos(-centric) and Jill post-RE:3 to RE:5.

​38. ​Talk about a review that made your day.

On the hellscape that is the internet, I've somehow had the pleasure of receiving some of the kindest, most articulate comments. Like, really. The reviews my readers leave make me all flustered. I'm so thankful.

Ones that stuck with me, though: Both @visualheresy​ and @tallmatcha​ have read fics of mine that aren't even in fandoms they follow, and took the time to comment, saying they were beautiful. And I think about that a lot. Like, it wasn't even their thing, they were just there for my writing, even if they didn’t understand the context, and that makes me watery inside if I think about it too much.

[maxheadley]

1. The Audition

Chapter 1 of The Shadow & the Star (Prequel to Timothy's Imaginations)

Several anonymous feet tapped on marble tile floors, creating a rhythm incessant noise. A beat of endless impatience and desire to be anywhere else but there stuck inside a small, crowded waiting room. Pens wrote on forms, papers flipped as people read their scripts, and small chatter rose amongst the many people sitting and waiting.

Many of these people wouldn't land such an expensive role unless they had real potential or classical talent. One out of five would achieve this, the rest would be gently released back into the world to struggle and wait for another opportunity to make money and become famous.

But only one, lonely person would not leave without scoring a role in this major feature film. She'd snag the role if it took all her cash and her last breath. She sat in the corner of the waiting room, next to the large bursting with light window. Away from as many as the crowd as she could possibly be. She may be an actress and having to deal with fans, agents, and producers but she kept her distance.

She currently listened to some beats in one ear using some old white iPhone earplugs, while her other ear was left alone to listen for the call of her name. Luckily, she hadn't had to wait long, because few minutes after she closed her pretty sea-green and blue eyes, someone shouted her name. "Bryn De La Rosa! Bryn De La Rosa!"

She leaned forward to see a young male peering down at his clipboard, calling her name. She stood up just as he was about to call her name a third time. Two times was enough. Her attention was gathered. She gave him a charming smile. "That is me."

He returned her smile, though his was less appealing and more like a lour. "Follow me, Miss. De La Rosa." He guided her out of the waiting room, leading her through a long winding corridor into a fairly massive auditorium. She gasped at the size of the auditorium. It had probably over a thousand seats and that was just on the lower level. There were balconies placed high and arched

Several private seats were placed inside. She gasped seeing how beautiful the place was. She didn't notice table of people sitting across the stage. Three people were sitting at the table, with a stack of headshots and papers in front of them. Each had a water bottle and a snack item. Auditions must be long and tiresome. For both the casters, and for the auditioners. She was happy to be one of the first to audition.

"Hello. You must be Bryn De La Rosa?" Said a young man with the biggest brown eyes she's ever seen, faded pink hair, and high pale brown cheekbones. He looked large, but that's because the other two were females and were awkwardly smaller.

She gave him a subtle smile. "Yes, that's me, sir."

"Alright, I'm Kit Knowles, and these two are Tempest Dunes and Matilda Evans. They'll be helping you act out your scene. What have you chosen from the script?" He said, looking very complacent, though his eyes were studying her.

She hoped he didn't see her awkwardness or her nervousness. The way he looked at her, made her weak and feel strange. "Act 1, scene two." She responded, as if she memorized her response.

"And go." Kit gestured subtly.

Bryn met the eyes of her opposite unofficial partner for her audition. She narrowed her eyes as she got into character. She circled the smaller woman. One fine eyebrow raised. "I expected better then a insolent, self indulgent child such as yourself. What is it you want?" She demanded, flippantly and urgently. Her character (whom she currently portrayed) had the air of a Queen and the malice of a demon. She pretended to not care of the others feelings for they did not matter.

Tempest, the smaller of the two females, working alongside Kit, narrowed her dark blue eyes. A low growl emitted from her throat. "I proposed to the monarch, Queen Opal, to have conference with you here today. She is expecting you to choose me or Iris as your handmaiden. I would like to serve you if you'd have me."

Bryn lifted her head and eyes to glance at Matilda, the other girl, who portrayed Iris for the time being. Matilda remained impassive and complacent. Nothing about her expression gave any inclination of interest about the scene they were supposed to be acting out. "And why would you like to serve me Iris instead of Lou here?" She said, disgust clear in her voice.

Matilda's bright blue eyes averted under Bryn's unrelenting stare. She spoke with hesitation. "I.." She swallowed. "I don't. You are not a worthy adversary for me to serve. You are ruthless and dangerous. No one should serve you as a handmaiden or a warrior otherwise."

"Iris!" Tempest's gasp entered Bryn's ears. Her eyes were wide as she looked up into Bryn's. "Please forgive her Lady Ida. She is not in the right mind. She is uneducated and knows nothing of how to keep her opinions to herself."

Bryn let out a evil laugh. She patted the girl on the shoulder as she approached Matilda. She saw the unmasked fear and concern register in Matilda's bright eyes. "I think honest is something I'd like to bring into this lonely, lovely, little house."

"But I only need one of you." She said, when Tempest sighed relieved.

"And scene." Called Kit from where he sat at the table observing the little scene play out. Tempest and Matilda headed back to their seats, leaving Bryn standing alone on the stage. She shook her head and gave Kit a soft smile.

She hoped he liked her rendition of Lady Ida. The screenwriter created an iconic villain for the story. She hoped she could be Lady Ida soon. Or at all.

Kit studied his notes for a moment, then glanced up at her. "You are talented, but why did you choose such a villainess to portray?" He asked. There was no judgment or contempt in his question, just a curiosity that could not be hidden behind his complacent mask. He certainly looked at her as if she could be everything they ever needed, so did his two companions.

She stepped off the stage and approached the table. "I know what it's like to be broken, pushed into the shadows, burned by the ones I had loved, and left to repair myself alone. I feel Ida's pain merely because I've experienced almost the same exact predicaments. She is an iconic character and hardly a villain at all, she is just angry for what has been done to her. I can relate well to her anger. I would be honored to play such an important character in your movie franchise." She explained, thinking back to when she first started her string of auditions. She'd been rejected about fifteen times before she got a call from her agent, that she booked a minor character in movie, and there her career began. All because someone gave her a chance. Something she had deserved, time and time again, after everything she endured.

Kit's orangish-brown eyes gleamed in understanding, for whatever reason, that may be. He simply smiled. "I will have to consult with my companions here and will get back to you, Bryn. I do hope you will be joining our groundbreaking cast." He held his hand out for her to shake.

She shook his hand, giving him a smile. "Thank you."