#tw: heavily implied anxiety/panic attacks

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Regina George X Fem!Reader Angsty, Cute, and Fluffy Prompt [Full Version + Part 1 due to Tumblr text block limit]

• Takes place after the occurrence of the film [2024 ver. with Reneé Rapp]

• Some mild changes made to some elements of the story

• This is the entirety of the prompt/instalment, as promised!

• There will be more!

!TW: Being stuck in a toxic relationship, insult(s), mention of previously being kidnapped, implied suffering from PTSD + Depression + Separation Anxiety + Anxiety in general, mention of previously being abused (physically and verbally) + injury detail, jealousy, mention of divorce + poor relationship with family/family members, elements of self-doubt + presence of self put-downs, panic-attacks/mention of them, swearing, presence of weaponry, threat(s), suicide attempt(s) + suicidal intentions + consideration, implied/mention of previous elements of homophobia, mention of having nightmares linked to trauma, drug-taking (medication), mention of substance abuse (alcohol addiction), mention of miscarrying, breaking up, sense of drowning - if I’ve missed any, let me know!

Birds’ Eye View/Heart’s Desire

“Are you done, or-?” You inquired, raising your eyebrows, after Regina threw another line of insults at you; you’d told her to rant, seeing she needed it, but…

“No,” she answered, without hesitation, even though she appeared a little exasperated, wincing, before she looked away from you, and sighed heavily, knowing she shouldn’t get you involved with all that was currently frustrating her following her recent arguments with her boyfriend, Shane Olman, especially when you didn’t even know him, and hadn’t ever talked to him, only a recent student at Northshore High School, managing to take on Senior Year after you’d been expelled from your last school. “Yes,” she added, barely audibly, and you would appear surprised, not expecting such an answer from her as you tilted your head partially, a pained as well as skeptical expression on your face; you didn’t want her to feel as if she couldn’t talk to you about all that was burdening her the way you feared she did, hoping against hope - however - at the same time, that she had instead managed to clear her mind a little, until she crumpled, and looked up at you again with a hurt look on her face before she said ‘no’, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. “N-No, I’m not, I-.. I’m-..” She shrugged, before awkwardly bowing her head, and you would nod gravely, smiling sadly over at her, before you timidly inched closer to her to gently squeeze her shoulder, prompting her to express relief, her heart skipping a beat, before she glanced up at you again, and felt strong enough to continue just by having her gaze lock with your own in the best way possible. “I hate you,” she spat, her gaze never leaving your’s, whilst you couldn’t help, but smirk in her direction, amused though you knew you shouldn’t be, but it didn’t stop your heart from aching as you wondered who had hurt her the way you could tell that they had, before she’d come back to your Uncle’s ranch with you. “Y-You stink, and I hope an air conditioner falls on you,” she added sharply, clearly through gritted teeth, whilst you appeared taken aback - of all things you thought she might say, that was one of the least you’d been expecting to hear, but it still made you have to fight back a giggle regardless of how it had shocked you, at first, “okay.” She drew in another shallow breath, before releasing it through her nose like you’d told her to, just to try and calm her down when she’d almost broken one of the mucking up shovels you and her had been using to tidy up the horses’ stalls here. “Okay, I - I think I’m-.. I think I’m done, now,” she stated, and you would almost feel disappointed, though at the same time of course you were relieved to know that she seemed at least somewhat relieved, now that she’d slung out yet another insult in your direction, though she wasn’t directing anything of what she meant toward you; she couldn’t.

The thought startled her, just for a moment, as she winced again, and forced a smile in your direction, trying to hide that such a small thing had flustered her the way nothing else ever had before.

“That’s good,” you stated, and she would hesitate, before nodding, and smiling softly over at you, this time the smile was genuine; it was hard not to allow the corners of her lips to curve upward whenever she was around you, “that’s always good - so-.. are you ready to talk about it, now?”

She would appear taken aback by your question, her smile faltering a little, before she awkwardly cleared her throat, and nodded slowly, though you could tell she was reluctant to discuss what had been happening between her and Shane recently.

“I guess,” she answered, and you would smile warmly back at her, glad that she felt able to talk about such things with you - it even made you feel a little warm and fuzzy inside, like a sense of pride was washing over you in response to your hope that she seemed to trust you, just as much as you trusted her, and somehow had ever since you’d first met her that day; the day she’d first been sent here by her mother to distract her, and take her mind off of the tense situation between her and Shane, before you’d even started at Northshore High. “But - if we’re gonna talk about it,” she began again, and you would tense up for a moment, wondering what she might be about to say, next; you were always terrified that maybe something bad would happen - that maybe she would up, and abandon you, though you couldn’t imagine why. You always put such dread up to how you’d been kidnapped, and abused the way you and, a few years ago now; you were quite young when it happened, and the nights you’d spent screaming and crying had never left your mind, especially not at night, where your nightmares were at their most vivid moments. For a moment, you remembered your kidnapper coming in to kick at your side for how you’d tried to call your home, after successfully sneaking out of his basement, but that wasn’t the worst of the punishment; he spent every night after that breaking each and every one of your fingers, and he would have moved onto your wrist, or toes, if the police didn’t locate you when they did. You winced at the memory, but you wouldn’t let her see the pain in your eyes as you bowed your head, before she could lock eyes with you again, making her heart sink a little as soon as she realised she wouldn’t be able to lock eyes with you again, if you didn’t lift your head the way you had, before, trying to act as if you were distracted by the next pile of dung you were shovelling up at your feet. “Can we do it whilst we’re mucking up, l-like we are, now?” You appeared taken aback again by her request, forgetting your previous thought as you looked up at her again, forgetting how to breathe for a moment whilst she silently admired your eyes without even realising that she was, trying to tell herself that it was just because it made sense to make eye contact right now, rather than glance down at your lips, or just down at the ground when you were both in the middle of a conversation the way that you were, or had been, now.

You appeared skeptical again, once you’d recomposed yourself, and could finally breathe again, as soon as you remembered how your lungs were supposed to work, ever since you’d been born a few years ago, now.

“I don’t know,” you answered warily, prompting her heart to sink, and eyes to darken a little; it made something ache within her for a reason unbeknownst to her to see that you still didn’t seem to trust her with the shovel, but she guessed she understood after she’d been wielding it the way she had earlier, wanting to either break it or smack someone over the head with it whilst she’d been thinking about her and Shane’s recent argument. It was seeing the hurt on her face - even if it were only there for a moment - that made your heart cave in, as you - without hesitation - took up her shovel, before holding it out to her, and forgetting how to breathe all over again as you waited for her to take it from you. “Here, of - of course we can,” you reassured her gently, a little breathlessly, but you tried to hide that you couldn’t breathe as you tried not to watch her hand as it inched closer to your own, before she accepted the shovel from you, and couldn’t help, but allow the pinky finger of her left hand to brush against the back of your own, prompting your heart to stutter, and you to tense up again as a makeshift spurt of electricity seemed to run down your arm - something you’d never felt before. You wondered if she felt it too, noticing the dazed expression on her face, making your cheeks heat up as you hastily looked away from her again, though you longed to keep your eyes focused on her, and only her, despite your not knowing why you’d even had such a reaction to her skin touching your own the way it had, for a split second.

“Thank you,” she replied, once she’d been able to find her voice again as she smiled timidly down at the ground beneath her, “that was-.. really brave of you, considering.”

You lifted your eyebrows again as you glanced over at her, confused by her praise, but still you couldn’t keep the smile from your face as your eyes glinted a little over at her, prompting her heart to skip a beat again as soon as she felt your eyes upon her, encouraging her more than enough to glance up at you again, her eyes not hesitating to lock with your own as you both faltered in place for a moment, staring over at each other as if nobody else existed anymore, besides you two, right here, right now.

It took her more strength than it ever had before to stay stood where she was, seeing herself in another universe inching closer to you, whilst she lifted her right hand up to your left cheek, only making her heart begin to pound a little as you warily glanced over at her, your heart skipping a beat, almost as if you were picturing the same thing as she was, hardly breathing, just like she was, stood before you, before her eyes darkened, and she awkwardly cleared her throat again to break herself from her previous daze, as well as you from your own as you silently cursed yourself, before digging up at the muck again to try and clear your head somehow, only to fail miserably as soon as you felt her hand upon your shoulder.

“Reg-” You spluttered out, before you even knew her name was slipping from your lips, but before you could continue, she pressed on, determined to show you that she meant everything she told you, whilst she knew you silently doubted some things about yourself, though you’d not even told her her about what had happened to you, when you were younger, and felt more hopeless than you ever had before.

“I meant it,” she cooed, gently squeezing your shoulder as you timidly glanced up at her, wishing you could breathe normally again, whilst at the same time you were terrified of losing the way she made you feel, whenever she was with you the way she was, now, “you’re the bravest girl I know.”

You tried not to shudder, your eyes threatening to fill with tears as a lump began to form within your throat, only making it harder for you to not break down in front of her as you forced a shaky smile in her direction, before bowing your head again as soon as small tears began to form within your eyes.

“Bravest, huh?” You mused, and she nodded hastily, not hesitating at all because she meant every word, and knew she always would. Being hit by a bus the way she had last year had made her feel different; more grateful, of everything, as well as everyone, around her - for a split second, whilst she was unconscious, she swore her life had flashed before her eyes, and it made her feel guilty for almost everything she’d ever done - well, everything, until now.

“You - mean a heck of a lot to me,” she expressed, and you would appear taken aback again, your heart skipping a beat, before you glanced up at her again, and wondered why your heart felt as if it were being squeezed even though at the same time it felt as if it were currently soaring with every word she shared with you, and you’d reacted in similar ways ever since you’d first met her, and began to feel alive whenever she was with you the way that she was, now, “you always have, e-ever since I-.. y’know, got to actually know you, and talk to you, and that’ll never change, I promise - you know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassured her, your voice briefly trembling, prompting her heart to squeeze alongside your own as she frowned, and carefully eased you into a hug whilst you melted into her embrace, and wouldn’t hesitate to return it as you buried your face into her left shoulder, feeling safer than you ever had before as you subconsciously drowned within her sweet scent in the best way possible.

“Good,” she returned gently, “I’m glad.” You both fell quiet for a moment as you tried to recompose yourselves, before she held you at arms length blissfully, her eyes glinting alongside your own. “So,” she chimed, and you couldn’t help, but giggle softly whilst you carefully brushed away any remaining tears, “should we continue mucking, or-?”

You smiled warmly at her, before nodding, and taking up your shovel again, as if she hadn’t had you almost breaking down completely within her arms a brief moment ago.

“I’d love to,” you replied, brighter than she’d ever heard you before, prompting her heart to jump alongside your own as she smiled sheepishly back at you, evidently glad to see that you were happy again, now that she’d admitted to you that you were more than what you thought you were to her, before, “as long as you’re still up to talking about whatever you wanna talk about, as we go?”

She tensed up again, remembering Shane, and the fight he and her had had, earlier today, and for a moment you regretted more than anything bringing up the situation, until she smiled reassuringly over at you again, and nodded, before taking your free hand within her own to soothe you even more, indirectly making your heart pound faster than it ever had before as you tried not to glance down at her fingers intertwined with your own, whilst also silently praying that she couldn’t hear what was currently going on within your chest.

“Always,” she answered, and you would express relief, your expression softening, before you glanced down at the ground again, your cheeks heating up even more than they ever had before, “but before that - where should we start?”

🜚

“So he lied to you, about the whole thing?” You mused, a hurt look on your face as you and Regina slowly walked side-by-side, her head bowed, and your eyes dark whilst you tried to ignore how your blood was boiling at the thought of her boyfriend, Shane, disrespecting her like that, hurting her the way you could tell that he was, even now that she was away from him, trying not to think about all that had taken place between them both recently, when things had seemed like they’d be okay the end of last year, before she and him had begun the senior year at Northshore High together, alongside you.

“Yep,” she murmured, and you would frown, glancing over at her for a brief moment whilst your heart ached alongside her own, something she never thought she’d feel before, until now, as she silently begged for a distraction that would end this conversation, and bring on a new one.

The sun was going down - slowly, but surely. The last of the birds out were singing, her looking around for them subconsciously as if she were recently only just discovering each and every one of them around her, after the accident had changed her last year. A thoughtful expression crossed her face, a barely audible sigh of awe escaping her whilst she admired the area around her - your uncle did seem to own quite a bit of natural land; a few acres, at least, beyond the stable.

You couldn’t help, but smile softly in her direction as you admired her in the new light, tilting your head partially. It was almost like a breeze; like something new had hit you harder than it ever had before; like you were seeing every new for the first time, just by being with her. Your heart skipped a beat, and you hastily averted your gaze before she could look back in your direction, and lock eyes with you, prompting your heart to sink as you wished for a moment that you could have met her gaze, but you were terrified of her seeing the evident effect she seemed to have on you, without either of you knowing what it was, exactly, during this blissful moment in time, away from the hustle and bustle of civilisation. Regina was almost glad, to say the least, that her mother had sent her here just for the time being, until your uncle decided that he needed no more stable hands, but she guessed she’d always have you at the school, right?

Before she had time to acknowledge the silent dread forming within the pit of her stomach, you gently took her right hand within your briefly shaky left one, prompting her to forget how to breathe for a moment as she tensed up, and her legs stopped moving beneath her, her head turning on its own toward you before she could even direct it to do so, as if she were no longer controlling her body for a moment, and was watching the pair of you from somewhere else; at a birds-eye view.

Actually, she ventured that such a thing wouldn’t be so bad; to be up high, with the birds that were currently singing from somewhere up in the trees around you both, the odd one or two or even three taking off to either continue their birdsong somewhere else, or depart to their nests wherever they were for the night, alone, or with a family to keep them company; chicks, mate, or a flock. It struck her, eventually, that it was unusual for her to be having such thoughts; she wasn’t used to it, still - the way you made her want to continue her change, after the bus had struck her last year. She knew the old her would probably never bother to acknowledge such a natural scenery, nor would she even notice how this light seemed to make your eyes glint in a certain way.

She winced again, realising she had been staring back at you for a few seconds too long, before she awkwardly cleared her throat, and mustered up the only thing she could think to ask, right now, without having her voice tremble, or having herself get lost completely by all that was around her right now, though she wasn’t completely opposed to waking up to such a scenery each day, you included, somewhere within that dream, in what position she wasn’t quite sure, yet. She still couldn’t put her finger upon it; where you stand, to her - what she felt around you was completely new; like fireworks in the ocean, or particles of snow forming a perfect layer upon lava.

“You okay?” She inquired, her voice barely audible, and you would falter, realising you’d not spoken yet, before you nodded hastily, and smiled timidly back at her whilst your cheeks began to feel as if they were heating up again.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine, I just-..” You sighed, before looking away from her, and begrudgingly releasing her hand, not sure what had even prompted you to want to hold it within your’s for a moment in the first place as you tried to ignore the warm and fuzzy feeling you were currently experiencing within your chest, as long as she were beside you the way that she was, now.

Regina could tell that you were struggling to find the right words to say - of course she could, so she decided to help the only way she knew she could, right now, inching closer to you somewhat as she looked around at the scenery again, smiling softly as she did - it all felt like some hidden paradise she never even knew existed, before now, and she guessed it didn’t surprise her to find that you were included in such a place as this.

“It’s really pretty, here,” she stated, and you would subconsciously relax, beside her; your body tensing up less in the corner of her eye as you drew in a barely audible sigh of relief to her right, glad that she’d changed the subject before you could falter completely beside her the way you feared you soon would, the way that things had been going recently, “peaceful - I can’t believe I’ve never been here, before.”

You slowly nodded beside her, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the guilt you felt, bringing up Shane again the way you had earlier, after she’d told you about all the fights they’d been having recently, whenever she weren’t here, with you, or was with her friends back at Northshore; you weren’t really used to being around them, yet, so when she was with them, you were either in the library, or outside, writing underneath one of the trees on the hill, unless you were bunking completely - you never really cared about your education, especially after you’d been kidnapped and abused a few years ago, now.

What your kidnapper had done to you had just made you feel like nothing mattered anymore; you hated, or distrusted most things; you only ever felt anything that wasn’t negative when you were with Regina, or the horses your Uncle owned, specifically Firenze, and Felicity, two Friesians that had been here since they were foals. You’d always dreamed about watching them grow, and you would have been able to, if it weren’t for the man who’d taken you the way he did when you were smaller.

You tried to stop thinking about it, turning to face her subconsciously, and the sight of her was enough to clear your head; enough to get you to blurt out exactly what you were thinking, right now, until you knew you should stop.

“I’m sorry,” you managed, your voice weak, and close to a whisper, prompting her heart to sink, before she glanced over at you, her eyes darkening; she just wished you’d stop putting yourself down for things she believed you shouldn’t put yourself down for, especially after all that you’d been through, yourself. She didn’t know yet about the kidnapping, but she knew that you came from a broken home - just your luck, right? You’d had to sit up most nights before you were taken; before the divorce, listening to your parents shouting at each through the walls, but you never understood what it meant that they were doing so, before one night you’d seen your mother packing up her things, and shortly after that bottles of beer appearing around the house. You’d never been more glad to have been put up with your Uncle, instead, by the police, though you still felt guilty sometimes, wondering what was going on with both your father as well as your mother, not that either of them had treated you as well as you thought they had, before, naive to what was going on around you when you were younger, and less aware of the tricks the world seemed to play on some unfortunate people for the fun of seeing them suffer under the clouds it tended to bring down upon them quite often. “I shouldn’t have brought him up again, I-.. I’m-”

“Y/n, don’t,” she interjected gently, making to hold your hands reassuringly within her own, but you would shake your head hastily, before stepping back; you couldn’t let yourself get away with it; didn’t want to get away with anything like that, anymore, as you continued, a little more shakily, worrying her above the pain she was experiencing ever since you’d moved away from her the way you had, a brief moment ago, now. You were beginning to panic a little, that much she could tell, and she couldn’t let it consume you any further than it already had, knowing what would happen, if she did, and she wasn’t ready at all to see you have a panic attack the way she already had once before, when she’d found you sobbing uncontrollably and shaking in the corner of the stable, a few paces away from the inside and outside arenas here for the riding students that tended to come here sometimes, herself included, as a reward for being a stable hand here alongside you, as well as the others.

Neither of you tended to talk to them as much as you spoke to each other; they seemed a little more awkward around you both, neither of you were sure why - it was probably because the owner of the place was your Uncle, and she was hanging out with you a lot of the time; they didn’t want to do or say anything that might get them kicked out of the place. You fought back a shaky sigh, trying not to break down in front of her again as you subconsciously wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to tell yourself that it wasn’t as bad as how your kidnapper had hurt you; you wouldn’t be punished like that again, but it didn’t seem to help much.

“You see, I - I don’t have much of a filter,” you mused, your words almost stumbling over each other as she tried to slowly get closer to you whilst you spoke, and were distracted, “and when I do, I still don’t know much of what I’m doing, and I’m sorry for that; I should have thought about it, before I said it, and I hate myself for it, I really do, I-”

Before you could even process what was going on in your head, your heart racing, and tears clouding your vision, Regina’s arms were around you, and you fell quiet in an instant, your head clearing up again whilst you melted subconsciously into her touch, small tears leaking from your eyes as you slowly returned the hug, not sure what to make of anything anymore. All you could think about now was that she was with you, holding you, and for a moment you wondered if this was the safest you’d ever felt before.

You had so much to thank her for, smiling softly against her shoulder as you stared ahead of you, but the words were stuck in your throat; you didn’t want to move; didn’t want this moment to change as you subconsciously clung to her black jumper, and silently begged her to never let go of you - not again.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she cooed, her voice soothing you in an instant as she rubbed your back using her right hand, the circular movements leaving your skin feeling as if it were thrumming with electricity beneath your t-shirt with every touch, and you felt hopeless in a way, but this time it wasn’t linked to anything like fear - you only wanted more moments like these, more than you’d ever wanted anything else before.

It started off as an idea; you pictured the lights of the distant city against a dark sky, her arms around you almost like they were, now, before it became a picture you longed to witness, first hand, with every part of your being, your heart almost calling for it, and it didn’t take long at all for you to give into it, begrudgingly holding her at arm’s length, before the words so easily slipped from your lips before you could even process that they were doing so:

“Can I show you something?” You blurted out, and Regina appeared taken aback by your request, but she couldn’t say ‘no’ - it never occurred to her to do so, even when she was stood before your motorbike, and there was a glint in your eyes that she’d never seen before.

🜚

It felt like you both were soaring out of your Uncle’s riding centre, before a few seconds had even passed; like you were flying, without having a bird’s wings to do so. Neither of you spoke for a little while; Regina was silently admiring the distant lights of the city, as well as the near corn fields and occasional rabbits that ran alongside you both on the fields. You didn’t have the heart to interrupt her, occasionally glancing back at her, and smiling warmly as her eyes lit up at the sight of something new, only when you could; you didn’t wanna get her into an accident, not much caring about yourself if ever anything happened to you, but if anything happened to her…

You drew in a barely audible sharp breath through a wince, subconsciously slowing the motorbike down even more, though the road was often quiet the way it was, now, a rare car passing by you both every now and then, followed by a lengthy silence that seemed to stretch out between universe after universe. This was the life - if only it could stay like this, forever.

“This is nice,” she mused, perching her chin upon your right shoulder, prompting your heart to skip a beat as a dazed expression crossed your face for a moment, and you were glad it was being hidden by a helmet, worried that you might soon begin to blush again for a reason unbeknownst to you. You wondered how things had got even better; that she was so close to you, and already had her arms wrapped around you, obviously just as a safety precaution - you tried not to make anything of this moment, though it did make your heart pound uncomfortably against your ribcage somehow, to the point you were scared she might be able to hear it, but you assumed she couldn’t as she didn’t mention it, prompting you instantly to express relief, but you tried not to relax too much, reminding yourself that you were still responsible for her right now more than ever, and that you were still in control of your motorbike, no matter how much you wished you could just revel completely in the moment alongside her, without being fearful of how you could possible lose, or hurt her somehow, if ever you slipped up any minute, now - any second, even.

You kept your gaze firmly upon the road ahead, tightening your grip on the handles whilst she continued to look around, wondering how she’d never done this before, especially not with someone like you. Sure, it was similar to when she was driving her car, but this felt different in more ways than one. She snuggled even closer to you - just because it was getting cold, she tried to tell herself; it didn’t mean anything, though she could feel somewhere deeper inside her that she was wrong, and that scared her more than anything else ever had before. This was all so new, and something she never thought possible; she’d had feelings before, of course she had, regarding Shane and Aaron, but they’d never been this intense.

Even the crushes she’d had on other women (that she tried to ignore and excessively deny), had been ones that didn’t last as long as she thought - and sometimes feared - they would. A bird swooped past you both, but you wouldn’t let anything startle you, not if it meant that she could be put in danger by your recklessness if you let something distract you like that almost did.

“You okay, back there?” You inquired, your voice barely audible, as if you were afraid to even speak right now for her sake, your gaze never leaving the road again as you swerved a little to the right to allow another stray car to pass by peacefully - this was nothing like how you’d drive, if you were alone, that much you knew, above anything else right now.

“Yeah, you?” She called over the incoming wind, and you would appear taken aback by the question; you still weren’t used to someone else actually caring about you, you guessed.

“Yeah, I - I’m-” Your voice cracked for a brief moment, and you couldn’t help, but curse yourself for being so pathetic around her. “I’m okay,” you managed, eventually, and she would smile softly down at you, evidently glad to hear that as you’d been quiet for most of the ride, now, just too focused on trying to protect her to the point that it was unnatural; obsessive, to others, most likely, but you didn’t care; you couldn’t take any risk that could cause her demise.

“Good,” she replied gently, almost in a voice close to a whisper as if she were still afraid of what you’d think, if you heard her response, though she wasn’t sure why, all these new feelings leaving her with a headache due to the conflict going on between the two sides of both her heart, and mind. She clung on a little tighter to you to subconsciously provide comfort to herself, as well as you; she’d never seen you this quiet before, finding herself even missing your voice as another few minutes passed, with you not daring to muster up another word to her, even if it was just to ask her if she were okay; ask her if she liked the view; all the lights; the glittering stars above you both. “I’ve never seen you this focused before,” she admitted, and for a moment you faltered, swerving a little before you tightened your grip again, and re-centred your motorbike, but she wasn’t scared, only secretly glad that she’d achieved a reaction out of you the way she could tell that she had; you’d been so firm all this time, only now to let that foundation break if only just for a second the way it had, “you’re committed.”

You subconsciously grimaced, but tried not to let it get to you, though you knew she meant well, and in part, it was true; you were committed to protecting her, but just her, as well as the last few presences on the earth who had actually treated you right, but you couldn’t feel the same way toward the rest of the souls you’d met, so far, even though you’d only been alive for a few years, now.

“I guess,” you replied, and she would raise her eyebrows, wondering why you seemed to tense up beneath her touch only now, but she didn’t blame you, knowing you’d been through what nobody should have to go through at such a young age, your parents fighting all the time the way that they were, before they divorced, and your father started drinking - if only she knew about the kidnapping, too, before she continued; the kidnapping had always been the thing that especially provoked you the way it did, whether it broke you down to be reminded of what had been done to you, or it made you reckless; drove you to drink, yourself, or even suicide attempts, direct, or indirect on a count of reckless driving, or substance abuse - it just made you ache and burn in overwhelming ways that you couldn’t ignore everything it made you want to do, whenever you were reminded of what happened the nights you spent crying and screaming for someone to help, only for help to come when so much of you had already been broken inside, mentally and physically. You never intended to bring her into your pain; to get her involved with any of it, but something switched within you, and it always got to a point that you couldn’t hold anything back anymore - not until it was already too late for you to do so.

🜸

“You are,” Regina insisted, smiling subconsciously over at you as she admired your facial features without even realising that she was doing so, “you just don’t wanna admit it, right? The world, even if it hurt you; you wanna stay committed to it, somehow, in whatever way that you can-”

“I could never commit to something that never did anything good for me,” you uttered, and she would appear taken aback, a pained expression on her face as she nodded gravely, and regretted bringing it up in more ways than one, your eyes darkening as you scowled ahead of you, before slowly revving up your motorcycle, bringing it to accelerate even more as she winced, clinging onto you even more whilst you proceeded to turn another corner sharply, narrowly avoiding an approaching car.

“Y/n-”

“You wanna know how I feel about the world?” You questioned, and she would falter, finally appearing worried now as you accelerated even more somehow, something she never thought you would do considering you’d been so careful, up until this moment in time. “This is how I feel,” you spat, sharply revving the motorbike again as you leaned even further forward, and before Regina could even react; could even try and talk you out of what you were doing again, she noticed the broken fence you were both approaching, leaving open a dangerously close cliff-edge, and she knew what you were intending on doing more than you yourself even did.

“Shit,” she managed, first, before returning her widened gaze to you; her eyes full of nothing, but sheer dread as she gently shook you, desperate to try and stop you from continuing the way that you were, “Y/n, stop! You - You can’t do this; you’ll kill us-”

“We all fucking burn in the end,” you interjected sharply, your voice more dangerous and firm than she’d ever heard it before, but she never let go of you, regardless of what you were directing her as well as yourself toward right now, but before you could drive the motorcycle beyond the broken fence, you quickly swerved it a few paces before to the side, just about stopping the two of you before the wheel could go over, a pained expression crossing your face whilst Regina breathed heavy, and fast; she’d never been this scared, before - well, scared, and elated; only you had done things to have an effect such as this on her, and for some reason unbeknownst to her, she never wanted it to stop. “Get off,” you uttered, just as she made to say ‘I’, surprising her, as well as dejecting her as she subconsciously shook her head, and made to protest, only for you to continue in an even sharper voice, making her heart ache even more somehow, “get. Off, Regina.”

She couldn’t help, but scowl over at you, before nodding, and forcing herself to let go of you so she could dismount your motorbike, no matter how much her heart longed to remain close to your’s. She knew she should hate you, right now, but it was the sadness in your eyes that made her falter, her heart aching silently alongside your own - she couldn’t hate you; she just couldn’t, she cared about you too much to, maybe even loved you too much to, not that she knew what that meant yet; whether she loved you just as a friend, or as something more.

She drew in a barely audible shaky breath, still trying to recompose herself as she inched closer to you, and hugged herself, trying not to show that it was hurting her - how you were treating her, now, as if she meant nothing to you even after all that you’d both already been through together, recently.

“Y/n-”

“I can’t,” you murmured weakly, and she felt even worse when she heard your voice cracking, “I - I just-.. can’t, okay? I need to go-”

Her eyes widened again as she hastily shook her head; she couldn’t believe you’d just leave her there, without any explanation at all as to why you’d reacted to her assumption the way you did.

“But-”

“Reg, please-”

“You can’t just leave me here, Y/n,” she retorted, and quickly blocked your way before you could move your motorcycle anymore than you already had, a brief moment ago, now, “I need you; you’re the one who brought me here, remember?”

“You can walk, can’t you?” You reminded her harshly, but wished - as soon as the words had slipped from your lips - you could take them all back, your heart aching excruciatingly as you bowed your head, small tears threatening to cloud your vision. “You don’t need me to take you anywhere-”

“I do,” she contradicted, and you would sigh heavily, before bowing your head a little, knowing you should at least try and make something up to her, after what you’d already said to hurt her without even intentionally doing so the way you had.

“Then-.. let me make it up to you, at least,” you requested, evidently nervous as you fidgeted with your fingers subconsciously, your eyes full of worry as well as guilt behind your helmet, “please?”

Regina hesitated, not sure what to do, now - a part of her wanted nothing more, than to say ‘yes’, whilst another made her feel as if she should just go back home; give you some space, after what had happened a brief moment ago, but whenever she had such thoughts a cloud seemed to pass over her entire being, leaving her feeling empty and dejected inside - she hated being away from you, but she knew as well that she should get back, really, to avoid worrying her mother; during the journey, she felt that her phone was buzzing repeatedly, and she forgot until now that she’d promised she’d be back in time for dinner, and it had almost been a couple of hours or so passed that expectation.

“I don’t know-”

“Reg-”

“I want to go home, Y/n,” she decided, begrudgingly, and you would fall quiet, your frame drooping a little subconsciously in response to her interjection, but you couldn’t blame her - you’d probably hate you, too, if you were in her position, right now. “Not back to your Uncle’s ranch; not back onto any other road we haven’t been on - I want to go home,” she repeated, “my home, okay? Can you do that, without almost killing us both, or-?”

“Okay,” you answered, after swallowing painfully, but the lump in your throat didn’t go away, and Regina would reluctantly avert her gaze, a pained expression on her face as she climbed back up onto your motorcycle, before making to put her helmet back on, “I’m not a monster, by the way.”

Your words took her aback as she stopped what she was doing, for a moment, subconsciously lowering the helmet as she glanced up at you, her eyes full of the guilt as well as concern that she was currently feeling for you, right now; she’d never intended to make you feel that way, about yourself, especially not after all that you’d been through, ever since you were born a few years back - not when she thought the complete opposite about you, without you even knowing that she did, and had ever since she’d first met you, not too long ago, now.

“I know,” she reassured you gently, but you couldn’t let it go; couldn’t give in, not without her knowing that you never meant to hurt her, and never could; that you loved her too much to; that no matter what the future held for you, you could never let your past change you in a way that threatened her life, the way you almost had shortly after the ride had begun, not too long ago, now.

“I mean it, Reg, I - I’m not-”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me, Y/n,” she cooed, lifting her right hand up to your right shoulder, prompting you to falter, and fall quiet instantly as you revelled in her touch, smiling softly as you glanced down upon her hand holding your shoulder, making you feel warm and fuzzy all over again as if the pain had never been there in the first place, just because she was there with you, and holding you again the way you loved to feel her doing so, and had ever since you’d first met her a few months ago, now, or was it longer? You hardly had any sense of time anymore, now that she was with you. You tried not to sigh, more relaxed than you’d ever been before, until she withdrew her hand, and you began to feel empty again, trying desperately to cling onto the feeling, before she continued gently, soothing you all the more whilst she put her helmet back on again. “You know that, right?” She asked, wanting to hear you tell her that you did, and you would hesitate, glancing back at her timidly for a moment, before you smiled faintly, and nodded, trying to appear firm and confident again to reassure her further as you recomposed yourself, before answering in a makeshift stronger voice simply the word ‘yes’, prompting her to smile warmly back at you, glad, before she returned her arms around your waist, mustered up a sleepy ‘good’, and you began to rev up the motorcycle again - if you wanted to get her home to a not-so-furious scolding from her mother, you better do so quickly, right?

🜚

As soon as you pulled into her mother’s driveway, you began to feel empty again, knowing you’d both soon be departing from each other for the day. You smiled sadly back at her, before pulling off your helmet, and helping her off of your motorcycle.

“H-Hey, do you - can - can I walk you to your door?” You inquired, and she would appear taken aback, as well as a little flustered by your request, her eyes glinting a little whilst blood rushed up to her cheeks for a reason unbeknownst to her - she assumed it was just because it was cold again, but it terrified her to know that she was lying to herself, somewhere deep inside her; the part of her she didn’t like to show too often, until recently, after the bus had hit her last year.

“Er,” she began awkwardly, finding she couldn’t meet your gaze for a moment, whilst you tensed up and waited anxiously for her response before her, “sure, I - I don’t see why not, so.. yeah, c’mon.”

You appeared relieved, your eyes brightening up again as you smiled sheepishly over at her.

“Okay!” You replied, maybe a little too brightly, before you timidly offered her your right hand, prompting her heart to skip a beat, before she accepted your hand, and smiled softly over at you, trying not to appear dazed as soon as she felt the electricity passing between your and her hand, through both your and her arm, not even stopping as you began to walk slowly side-by-side, not wanting this moment to end for the world, but she guessed that was a luxury neither of you would ever be able to achieve, considering the way things had been ever since you both had been born, a few years ago, now. Time doesn’t stop for anyone. You frowned, averting your gaze down to the ground for a moment as your eyes darkened, and heart sank alongside her own as soon as you both had reached her door. “So,” you began begrudgingly, before turning to face her, and managing a faint smile back at her whilst she gently squeezed your hand in an attempt to provide comfort to you as well as herself.

“I guess we should-”

“There you are!” Another voice sounded out after the door began to open, prompting Regina to wince, before she hastily withdrew her hand from your own, prompting your heart to sink even more as you hastily looked away, and awkwardly shuffled upon the spot. “What did I tell you about dinner, and going out late, young lady?” Mrs George questioned - at least you assumed it was her mother; you’d seen her a few times before with Regina, but you’d never really spoken to her before, and certainly had never been this close to her before, making you feel awkward as she’d probably never seen you and her daughter together like she had her other friends.

“Jesus, mom, it’s only been a few hours since I left-”

“You left school at three, and it’s now-” She glanced down at her watch, before hastily returning her gaze to Regina. “Seven in the evening, almost eight - where have you been?” She questioned, and she would have continued, certainly appearing as if she were about to, before her gaze fell upon you, and she would wince, managing to smile awkwardly as well as apologetically over at you. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” she mused, before appearing a little puzzled as she looked you over, realising that she’d never really seen you before, until now, and didn’t know you as well as she did the others, “er - Regina, honey, is this one of your friends?”

“Y-Yeah,” she answered, trying to disguise the pause with a faint cough; she wasn’t sure why it felt strange to call you her ‘friend’, as well as why it flooded her with guilt a little to notice the pained expression on your face in response to her description of you, “she is; you’ve not met her before, but-.. she’s one of the other stable hands at that riding centre near here; her Uncle’s the owner of the place.”

“Is that right? Well, it’s nice to meet you, erm,” her mother paused for a moment, awkwardly holding her hand out for a moment, “sorry, I didn’t catch your name?”

“Y/n,” you managed, your voice faint, and close to a whisper; you were evidently nervous, “Y/n L/n.”

Mrs. George smiled warmly over at you, and you would hesitantly shake her hand, smiling awkwardly back at her, before you averted your gaze once the hand-shake was over, evidently afraid of doing or saying something wrong if you stayed any longer than you already had, now.

“Do you go to Northshore, too, sweetie?” She inquired, and you would tense up, realising she was talking to you again, before you nodded, awkwardly looking over at Regina as if you were afraid that that was the wrong answer, though it was far from being something wrong when you were going to Northshore alongside her, after you’d been kicked out of your last high school.

“Yeah, she - she does, she - she’s also starting senior year,” Regina explained, and Mrs. George would appear surprised; she couldn’t believe she’d never noticed you before, if you were starting senior year here the way you were said to be doing so, “she moved here, from another school - t-that’s why you, y’know-..”

“Right,” Mrs. George replied, things making at least somewhat more sense to her, now, before she seemed to remember something, and secretly winked over at Regina for a reason unbeknownst to her, prompting her daughter to wince, and appear a little flustered again, looking away before either of you could tell that such an effect was currently being had on her, right now, because of her mother’s evident assumption, “hey, would you like to stay for dinner? There’s a lot left, because missy here said there would be company joining us tonight, until none of them showed up - you’re very welcome to!”

You hesitated, not sure, as you awkwardly stepped back, and smiled apologetically back at Regina’s mother; you weren’t sure you were ready for doing anything like that, yet - social company that didn’t involve you and Regina being alone together wasn’t something you were used to, or much comfortable with, even if Mrs. George seemed to be keen on having you stay the way that she was, for Regina’s sake as much as her own; she just wanted to see Regina happy again considering all the fights she’d been having with Shane recently, and by the looks of things she could see that you seemed to have a certain effect on her daughter that she found hopeful, as well as actually kind of adorable - you seemed to naturally click together, and she wanted to keep that going, somehow, hoping it would prompt Regina to drop Shane, somehow, whether it led to you both being anymore than you were, now, or it just kept you being close friends the way that she could tell you currently were.

“I’d love to, b-but-”

“She’s gotta get back and help her Uncle with the horses,” Regina answered, seeing that you were struggling, prompting you to express relief, before you smiled faintly back at her mother again whilst Mrs. George appeared a little disappointed, before nodding gravely, and returning a reassuring smile back at you, only relaxing you even further as you warily glanced back toward the motorbike, and fidgeted a little with your helmet.

“Right, sorry,” her mother responded gently, “I’ll let you get on with that, then, but if you ever want to come back and stay for a bit, you know where we are, right?”

“Right,” you reassured her, before timidly smiling back at the both of them, “thank you, Mrs. George - see you tomorrow, Reg.”

“See you,” she returned a little dismally, before you pushed yourself to begin walking back toward your motorbike, whilst Mrs. George appeared skeptical, mouthing ‘Reg’ as a question to her daughter, but Regina wouldn’t acknowledge her, slipping by her mother into the house once you’d begun to pull out of their driveway, but it wasn’t long before you’d hear her voice again, shortly after you’d got back, and were trying to get to sleep - not long at all.

🜚

“What was that?” Mrs. George inquired, after closing the door, and Regina would wince, reluctantly looking back at her as she stopped upon the first stop of their home’s staircase up to the second floor.

“Nothing,” she answered, but her mother didn’t seem convinced, worrying her a little as she looked away after rolling her eyes, “it was nothing, I swear; she’s a friend, mom - that’s all there is to it-”

“You know it’s okay, right?” She continued, gentler, this time, and Regina would falter, glancing back at her with a pained as well as puzzled expression on her face.

“Mom-”

“You can have feelings for her,” she clarified, resting her hands upon her daughter’s shoulders reassuringly, “it’s normal - I’m not judging you, at all, so tell me - do you like her, or-?”

“C-Can we not do this, right now?” Regina requested, avoiding her mother’s gaze, but Mrs. George knew better than to just give in.

“Just tell me, okay? If ever you-.. do start feeling anything for her,” she requested, and Regina would sigh, before she nodded gravely, and awkwardly shuffled upon the spot, “you know I have all the tricks you need to know, about winning who you want to be with; I used to be quite the popular flirt, myself-”

“Gross, but okay,” she replied, unable to stop a soft smile from tugging at the corners of her lips as she looked back up at her mother, prompting her to smile back at her; she liked seeing her daughter happy the way she was, now - it had been a little while since things had been like this between them both, after she’d got with Shane last year, “I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. George responded exasperatedly, glad, above anything else, that she’d got through to Regina the way she could tell that she had.

“But,” Regina continued, worrying her mother again as she appeared to tense up, “I’m still with Shane, and I’m happy, so-”

“You’re happy? Really? Happy is not what I’m seeing from you when you’re with him, Regina-”

“Then that’s your opinion,” her daughter interjected sharply, “not mine - just-.. stay out of my business, okay? Please?”

Mrs. George frowned, shaking her head subconsciously, but Regina was already turning away from her even as she made to continue:

“Honey-”

“I’m going to bed,” she stated, and her mother would sigh behind her, before nodding gravely; she knew she’d never be able to change her mind about Shane; she’d have to do it herself, somehow; have to realise herself that he wasn’t any good for her, like she had thought he might be last year, until now; until the fighting had started the way it did, faster than she’d ever expected it to.

“Okay, but-.. next time, let me know when you’re going to be coming home late, okay?” Mrs. George called, and Regina would grunt, not bothering to respond as she disappeared into her room, and locked the door behind her.

🜚

It wasn’t long that you were plunged into a nightmare, after you fell asleep, crying and shaking uncontrollably whilst you clung to your duvet, your Uncle trying to soothe you as you struggled within his arms once he’d managed to get them around you, no matter how much you thrashed and cried out for help, thinking you were being taken by the man who had kidnapped and abused you again.

“You’re okay,” he cooed gently, his voice briefly shaking as he held you close, and you continued to cry, shaking your head rapidly as you mustered up things barely audible, before Regina’s name shakily slipped from your lips, “it’s okay.”

“Let go!” You cried, desperate to get away from him, and to find Regina again, afraid of what might happen to her, though the man who had kidnapped you was already in jail for what he’d done, and had been locked up for a few years now already - there was no way he was getting out, any time soon. “Please,” you begged, “I - I can’t - let me go! I need her! I - I need to hear her, please; let me see her, before he hurts her, too, please!”

“She’s okay,” he reassured hastily, “everything’s okay - he isn’t here, Y/n, you’re safe! He’s never coming back-”

“Stop!” You continued weakly, before you struggled out of his embrace, and lunged yourself off of the bed, before grabbing your phone, and surprising him by retrieving a pen-knife you’d been hiding under your bed in case anyone ever tried hurting you again like your kidnapper had years ago.

He faltered, hastily shaking his head whilst he drew back, and lifted his hands up in surrender, not wanting you to think he was going to force you to do anything - even he knew that it was smart not to continue trying to stop you when you were in a state like this, enough to prompt you to threaten him even if he was trying to help you, but he knew it was difficult for you; knew that you’d not recovered yet; that you were still stuck thinking right now that you were trapped within some form of that nightmare, even if it were over, now, and would hopefully never happen to you again, no matter what the future held for you, after today.

“Woah now,” he began slowly, “it’s okay - I’m staying over here, okay? I’m not gonna do anything; I’m not like him, you know I’m not, just don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“I just wanna hear her,” you admitted shakily, your voice cracking as you did, and his expression would soften, before he nodded gravely.

“Okay,” he replied gently, “then call her, see if she’s awake, but-.. if she’s not-”

“Don’t,” you spat weakly; sharply, and he would fall quiet again, “don’t you dare - I won’t let him take her; she will answer, and if she doesn’t-”

“She’s safe,” he reassured you again gently, “just try, and you’ll see, I promise.”

You hesitated, evidently nervous, before you began to shakily unlock your phone, allowing you to bring up your messages, alongside her number, but as soon as you noticed the phone symbol in the corner of the screen, you hastily pressed your finger down upon it, and waited anxiously for her to answer the call.

🜸

By the time you’d called her, she was already awake, struggling to sleep; tossing and turning, until she heard her phone buzzing, dragging her out of her thoughts regarding you, and what her mother had told her regarding your and her relationship. It rattled her more than anything else ever had before. She hastily sat up, grabbing her phone in the process of doing so, before she faltered, and tensed up a little upon noticing your name on her screen.

She didn’t hesitate, sliding with her finger to accept the call, before she shakily held her phone up to her ear, almost regretting doing so as soon as it had been done.

🜸

All she heard at first, was you sniffling barely audibly on the other side of the phone, prompting her heart to ache excruciatingly as soon as she realised that you were crying, for a reason unbeknownst to her. You couldn’t speak, at first, your hand shaking at your right ear whilst your Uncle watched you quietly; cautiously - he still didn’t know what to make of the situation, right now, with you still holding the pen-knife.

“Regina?” You managed, your voice briefly trembling, barely audible, and she sucked in a sharp breath subconsciously, her heart skipping a beat as soon as she heard your voice.

“Y/n?” She replied, and you would express relief, evidently glad to hear that she was okay; still there, and hopefully not in the clutches of the man who had kidnapped you the way he did, a few years ago, now. “Are you - Are you okay? What - What’s wrong?” She questioned, sitting up even further in her bed as she even shuffled toward the edge of it, as if she were deciding whether she should go back to your Uncle’s ranch to check on you, and make sure that you were okay; she didn’t like the idea of you being alone, whilst you were like this, evidently not knowing that your Uncle was with you in the room right now, you holding a pen-knife at him as if you still thought he were about to hurt you, or try and stop you from protecting her somehow when he could never do anything like that to you, especially not when he’d made a vow to protect you to your mother, before she’d left after the divorce.

You frowned, wrapping your left arm around your legs as you shuffled even further back against the wall, your eyes glistening as you tried to find the right words to say, your bottom lip shaking whilst your throat felt as if it were burning; sore from crying, and screaming the way that you were, a brief moment ago, before your Uncle had let you go to call her like you were, now.

“I - I’m,” you began feebly, your words stumbling over themselves, “I’m sorry-”

“Y/n,” your Uncle began gently, but you wouldn’t listen to him, hastily shaking your head; you didn’t want to be told that it wasn’t your fault; that none of this was, because you knew that things could have been different; you knew that maybe you could have done something to fix this; to fix everything that happened; to fix yourself even after all that had been done to you, before.

“I should never have-.. I-” You faltered again, struggling to hold yourself together as your face crumpled, and you began to cry again, your grip on your phone tightening. “I’m sorry, okay? I really am, I-”

“Y/n, stop-” Your Uncle continued, but you would move away before he could inch any closer than he had, despite you still holding the pen-knife in front of you as soon as he’d made to move again like he had.

“The - The truth is,” you began again, trying not to allow your voice to shake anymore than it already had, by briefly biting down upon your tongue, even as you began to taste blood, and tears continued to leak out of your already red and sore eyes, “I like you, Reg, more - more than I had planned to, and I-.. I’m so-..” Regina didn’t know what to say, her heart silently breaking alongside your own as she listened to you trying, and struggling to hold everything within you together, just to try and stay strong for her, though she still didn’t know what had prompted you to react the way that you were; to call her, instead of anyone else, during times like these that you were at your weakest; she’d never heard you like this before. “Look, I-.. if - if he takes me today; y-you don’t know him, but-.. if he takes me,” you continued, a little more urgently now, your voice trembling even more whilst your hand began to shake again, your heart pounding, “don’t look for me, don’t even ask for me, don’t-.. don’t even-.. please, just forget about me, okay? Please? Will you?”

“What? Y/n, what - what are you talking about?” She questioned, evidently getting nervous, now, her eyes full of the concern she was currently holding for you, whilst her own heart began to pound uncomfortably within her chest. “Y/n-”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated a little weaker, “I-.. just don’t let him get you, too.”

“That’s enough, Y/n,” your Uncle continued, before he hastily got off of the bed, before taking the phone from you before you could even try and take it back from him, wanting to hear her voice just for one short moment longer, even if you really were safe right now, and weren’t still trapped within the nightmare you’d been plunged into not too long ago, now, “c’mon-”

“No!” You cried, but he held the phone away from you, carefully pinning you down upon the ground before you could scratch at him using the pen-knife; he knew that it was a hard situation for Regina to be in, too, not knowing about what had happened to you regarding you being kidnapped the way you were, and he knew he shouldn’t let it continue for as long as it was, so instead of giving the phone up to you, he put it up to his own right ear, before saying goodnight, as well as apologising to Regina, and ending the call, but she couldn’t let what she’d heard go, shaking her head as soon as she noticed the call had been ended, before she got up, and rushed down the stairs.

🜸

“You can’t do this!” You cried, desperate to call her again, but still he wouldn’t let you have the phone back, keeping it in the pocket of his jacket; he often stayed up late, keeping watch of the horses if they were particularly loud, and that was what he had been doing, before he’d heard you screaming and crying upstairs. “I have to call her again, please!” You begged, struggling against his hold as he removed the pen-knife from your left hand, before carefully picking you up off of the ground; you needed to relax, somehow, as he carefully laid you back down upon his bed, before taking up a bottle of sleep medication that tended to help you sometimes, on nights like these. “If I lose her, I-”

“You won’t lose her,” he cooed, as he carefully encouraged you to take the pill, before offering you the glass of water he’d got you earlier - this was often a common occurrence, at night; he liked to be prepared for you if ever you needed more of your medication or for him to stay with you until you fell asleep again after being plunged into a nightmare like the one you’d just had not too long ago, now. “She’s always gonna be here for you, I promise,” he added gently, “no matter what - I can tell, I just-.. I’m worried about - about what she’ll think, if she-.. if she knows, about what happened to you; she doesn’t know yet, remember? She doesn’t even know about the divorce, does she?”

“She does,” you contradicted a little sleepily, your voice quieter than it was, before; the pill was already taking effect, it seemed, as you subconsciously snuggled a little into your duvet whilst your Uncle sat on the edge of the bed beside you, “I-.. I told her. I-.. I don’t know why, I just-.. I-”

“It’s okay,” he reassured you, smiling softly down at you, “I understand.” He sighed, before laying down beside you whilst you stared up at the ceiling, your eyelids growing a little heavier than they were, before. “Try and get some sleep, okay?” He encouraged, and you would hesitate, before nodding slowly, though it was a struggle to focus anymore; struggle to quiet your mind, when all you could think about was how you hoped Regina was safe, even though you had been brought back to reality by now.

🜸

Regina didn’t waste any time getting downstairs, her heart pounding overwhelmingly whilst she made to grab her coat from the hanger, but before she could open the door after swiftly retrieving her car keys, her mother came out of the kitchen, startling her as she jumped, and leaned heavily against the door for a moment after Mrs. George had tiredly said her daughter’s name to her right.

“Mom?” She managed, her voice barely audible, and sounding as if she were still shaken up after what had happened, earlier. “W-What are you-”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Mrs. George interrupted suspiciously, and Regina would wince, hastily bowing her head as a lump began to form within her throat again - she couldn’t let her mother stop her from seeing you, after you’d called her the way that you did, all broken up and sounding more scared than she’d ever heard you before, only making her heart ache even more excruciatingly than it ever had before. “What are you doing, missy?” She questioned, but before Regina could muster up a response, her mother continued, and she found herself struggling not to cry, as she bowed her head, and blinked her tears back whilst her mother surveyed her curiously all the while, wondering if Shane had fought with her again, before she’d rushed down the stairs the way she had, phone loosely in her right hand. “Don’t tell me, it’s Shane, isn’t it? He upset you again-”

“It’s Y/n,” Regina managed, her voice briefly trembling, and her mother’s expression would soften as soon as she heard the pain in her daughter’s voice, no matter how much she tried to hide that she was struggling, the way she currently was, after you’d called her a brief moment ago, “she-.. she’s-”

“Oh, honey,” her mother cooed sympathetically as soon as Regina found herself breaking down, unable to fight back her emotions any longer as she collapsed into Mrs. George’s arms, crying quietly into her left shoulder in a strained manner, as if she were still trying to hold the tears and sobs back, somehow, after they’d managed to escape her the way they had, a brief moment ago, now, “it’s okay - you’re okay; everything’s okay, you can tell me - what’s wrong with Y/n? Did you guys have a fight, or-? Or is she-?” Mrs. George appeared worried as she held her daughter at arms length, her eyes a little wider than they were, before. “God, no, she isn’t hurt, or - or even dead, is she? Talk to me, Regina, you’re scaring me-”

“I can’t stay here,” Regina managed, a little more firmly, though her voice still shook for a brief moment, as she withdrew from her mother’s embrace, even stepping back as Mrs. George drew closer to her again, “she needs me-”

“But it’s late, sweetie-”

“You used to be okay with late nights,” Regina reminded her exasperatedly, desperate to get to you as fast as she possibly could, so she could make sure that you were okay; she hated that she weren’t with you right now, especially when you sounded so scared, before, “please, mom, let me go to her, please!”

Mrs. George sighed, before nodding gravely, and averting her gaze for a brief moment as she thought about what she could do to keep her daughter safe in the process, afraid of what accidents she could get into in a state like this, but she tried her best not to conjure up subconsciously any images in her mind of a car accident waiting to happen. She’d have to go with her, if she wanted to protect her the way she did, and had ever since she had first been born, a few years ago, now.

“Fine, you can go, but I’m not letting you go alone,” she decided, before Regina could slip through the front door the way she’d been making to, just as her mother had made to continue.

She groaned, evidently displeased by her mother’s choice, but before she could complain, Mrs. George took the car keys from her, only annoying her even more.

“What? But-”

“And I’m driving, missy,” Mrs. George continued, before slipping by her daughter to open the door, “so are we doing this, or not?”

🜚

The drive felt longer than it ever had before, like a million lifetimes were going by, and they still hadn’t got to his ranch yet though it was quite close by to her mom’s house, as well as near to Northshore High School, but Regina didn’t want to think about how she’d have to go back there tomorrow right now - not when she was still worried about you, the way that she currently was, and had been ever since you’d called her the way you did.

“You okay back there, hon? You’re very quiet,” Mrs. George inquired, and Regina would hesitate, before nodding, and forcing a smile over at her mother through the rear view mirror, but she couldn’t get the smile to reach her eyes as she bowed her head again quickly, trying to hide that her smile dropped as fast as she’d brought it on. “Hey,” her mother continued gently, seeing that her daughter was still in pain, and definitely nothing short of worried about you, as she carefully reached her left hand behind her to gently and reassuringly squeeze Regina’s own, but it still shook a little once she let go; she couldn’t calm down; couldn’t stop her heart from pounding, and she hated it, but she couldn’t quite get herself to want to go home, not when they were both so close now to your Uncle’s ranch.

As soon as the driveway came into view, Regina sat up, her eyes a little wide as they surveyed the area, as if she were expecting to see blood stains, or weapons, or broken windows, only to find that the place seemed unscathed, prompting her to express relief, her heart instantly slowing down a little as she relaxed back into her seat just a bit, but she was still tense, telling herself that she wouldn’t be happy, until she saw that you were okay; still breathing, and not cold inside, as long as you were still here.

“Who’s there?” A familiar voice called out, and that was when Regina noticed that there was a figure approaching the car warily with a flashlight.

“This is the right place, isn’t it, sweetie?” Her mom asked, but Regina couldn’t bring herself to answer, hastily getting out of the car, before she rushed up to your Uncle, and couldn’t help, but shove him, assuming that maybe he had something to do with how scared you sounded, since he’d interrupted the call, before it was ended the way it suddenly was, earlier. “Regina!” Mrs. George called after her, running toward them both to wrap her arms around her daughter, attempting to pull her away, but Regina wouldn’t let her mother stop her.

“Where is she, and what have you done to her!?” She cried, and your Uncle would frown, shaking his head subconsciously, before he sighed, and looked warily back toward the house; he’d been expecting this, but wasn’t phased, as he smiled apologetically back at both of them.

“She’s inside,” he answered calmly, before his eyes darkened a little upon him realising he may have to tell Regina and her mother the truth, now that they were here, prompting him to appear slightly dejected in response to his own recollection of what had happened to you a few years ago, now.

He remembered all the sleepless nights, wondering when the police would call him back; when you’d be brought home, and it was painful - he himself still had nightmares about it, sometimes, and it filled him with a boiling hot rage to think about how long it had taken them to locate you; how your father had done nothing himself to help you, not even looking alongside the search party he’d put together for you, but he guessed that was in the past, now, and could never be changed - at least you’d finally been brought home; a little broken, but still alive, and home.

He sighed heavily, appearing tired, now; he’d been awake for a little while, after you’d woke up from the nightmare you’d been plunged into a little earlier, shaking him up slightly to the point he found he just couldn’t get anymore sleep, worried about how you might need him to comfort you again, at some point; he never wanted to not be there for you, when you needed him, especially not after you’d hardly been looked after by your father and mother, considering your mother was focused on getting away, whilst your father had been more content drinking than he was looking after you.

Even that made him scowl subconsciously down at the ground again; maybe if your father had been looking after you, you wouldn’t have been taken, and wouldn’t have to had gone through the abuse that you did at the hands of your kidnapper, years ago, now.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. L/n, I didn’t think she’d-”

“It’s fine,” he reassured, smiling feebly back at Regina’s mother, before he gesticulated toward the house, and switched off his flashlight, “come inside for a little while - it’s cold out, and-.. I feel I have some explaining to do for Ms. George, here, as well as you, but Y/n, she-.. she’s upstairs, sleeping, at least I think she is, and I’ll let you see her if you want, but-.. she needs rest, and most likely won’t wake up until the morning comes around, now - is that okay?”

Regina hesitated, before nodding slowly, and awkwardly shuffling on her feet - as long as she could see you, she was happy, so as soon as your Uncle turned to walk back into the house, she followed, her mother hot on her heels behind her.

🜚

“Sorry again, Ms George,” your Uncle began hesitantly, once they had all entered the house, and he had shut the front door to keep the wind out, “about the call.”

Regina’s mother would appear confused, looking between Regina and your Uncle as she tried to make sense of what was going on, right now, given that she hadn’t been around to hear the phone call between you and her daughter not too long ago, now.

“It’s fine,” Regina responded in a voice barely audible, cautiously watching him as he made his way over to the kitchen table, before awkwardly sitting down upon one of the chairs, looking as if his back were hurting him as he did; he’d never been quite so energetic after he’d been bucked off one of the horses, here, a little while ago, now, “but-.. why? Why was Y/n talking like that? Like she was about to get taken away, or - or even killed? You haven’t told us anything about that, yet-”

“In due time,” he reassured, before smiling apologetically over at Regina, and gesticulating for them to sit at the table with him, “first, maybe you should make yourselves comfortable for a little while, before I let anyone go up there and see her.”

Regina hesitated, at first, mostly because she didn’t want to waste anymore time when she could be going upstairs, and making sure that you were okay, right now, the way she wanted to ever since she’d got the call from you, in the first place.

“Regina, honey, let’s do as he says, okay?” Mrs. George encouraged, and Regina would roll her eyes, before nodding gravely, and moving toward the table before her mother could guide her toward it instead.

“Thank you, Mrs. George,” your Uncle replied, evidently grateful as he himself was struggling to keep up a strong front right now, considering what he knew he would be having to tell them both about you, soon, “this might be easier, sitting down, than it would be standing up - that’s why I thought this would be better, for all of us.” Regina couldn’t help, but scowl down at the table, as she fidgeted with her hands, desperate to get this over with so she could check on you, like he said she’d be able to earlier, before they all had gone inside to talk about what had happened, first. “Now that we’re here,” he began again slowly, in more of a strained manner, before forcing a smile up at them both, “I-..” He sighed, before standing up again, and making toward one of the countertops, Regina cautiously tracking his every move, though it did make her feel a little guilty, suspecting him of anything right now when he’d always been good to her, as well as you, whenever she was here, and not either at home, out with her other friends, or stuck at Northshore high. “Would anybody like a coffee, at all, or-?” He asked, and Mrs. George would practically jump on the idea, before she looked toward her daughter, only for her to continue protesting again; she wouldn’t accept anything, until she was allowed to see you.

“I’m fine,” she claimed dismissively, her mother frowning over at her, but she wouldn’t pay her any attention as your Uncle nodded patiently; respectfully, before he continued to the kettle to begin the process of making himself as well as Mrs. George a coffee - it was needed to keep them awake, of course, considering it was already so late, by now, for the two of them, whilst Regina’s energy was coming completely from her telling herself she wouldn’t do anything, until she was allowed to see you and make sure that you were okay, the way she feared you weren’t, alone right now, after you’d broken down over the phone the way you had still for a reason currently unbeknownst to her, during this moment in time.

“So, what - what happened with this call I’m only just hearing about?” Mrs. George inquired, and your Uncle would tense up, before warily looking back toward Regina and her mother.

“Y/n called me,” Regina answered, her voice a little dejected as she averted her gaze down to her hands again, “I thought you knew that-”

“No, I just - I didn’t know; I thought she messaged you, or something,” Mrs. George explained apologetically, as well as a little exasperatedly again, “I’m sorry, honey, but I didn’t - what happened on the call?”

“She was scared,” she replied again, a pained expression on her face as she had to try and swallow the lump forming within her throat again, “I could tell, she was - she-”

“She was taken, a few years ago,” your Uncle revealed, his voice barely audible, and both Regina and Mrs. George would fall quiet, looking over at him with wide eyes, before he sighed heavily, and brought over the two mugs to the table.

“Taken?” Regina managed, her heart feeling as if it were being squeezed for a moment as her voice threatened to tremble, your Uncle nodding gravely as he slowly sat back down opposite them, wrapping his hands around the mug as if he were seeking comfort from it, somehow - it was something he would forever and always hate having to talk about; hate having to even think about, or being reminded of, but he guessed some things were just doomed to stick with you forever, somehow.

“I guess she-.. well, it haunts the both of us, sometimes,” he admitted gravely, Regina and Mrs. George clinging to his every word, “you see, she was still quite small, when it happened; after the divorce, and her father had started drinking, she was alone a lot of the time, and this man, he-.. he broke into the house, the police said, and when he saw her..” Your Uncle faltered, his voice briefly trembling as he lifted his mug to his lips for a moment, needing something to try and help him hold himself together for them, as well as you; you needed him to stay strong now, more than ever, he believed, considering you were still being haunted by the man who’d taken you the way he did. “Well, he-.. you can imagine, what he did, right? It was a few days, at least, almost a week, or two,” he continued, after a little while he’d taken to recompose himself, knowing he had to continue at some point, feeling it was owed to Regina to know what had prompted you to break down the way you did, not too long ago, now, after the nightmare you’d had, “before the police found her - she hardly..” His voice broke again as he murmured a shaky and quick apology, secret tears clouding his vision, only making Regina feel worse for suspecting him a brief moment ago of hurting you and scaring you the way she feared he did earlier. “Let’s just say,” he managed after drawing in a sharp breath; another sip of his coffee, his head still partially bowed, “his voice, tonight, brought back memories for her, of dark rooms, and broken bones.” He sighed again, this time a little more strained as he smiled sadly up at the both of them, before bowing his head once more a little, feeling more small tears beginning to cloud his vision as he did, but neither of them dared say anything for a moment, until he continued. “It always does,” he added dejectedly, his voice close to a whisper, and Regina frowned as she started piecing things together, her eyes darkening whilst she did.

When she felt as if she could, she hastily lifted her head, leaning forward in her chair as she did, surprising her mother as she looked over at Regina, evidently startled by her previous moment beside her.

“Can I see her? Please?” She requested, her voice full of a new urgency; a more anxious desperation, and your Uncle would hesitate, before sighing again, and looking toward the staircase - he guess he did tell her that she could earlier, after all.

🜚

“She likes you, you know that, right?” Your Uncle stated, as he and Regina lingered by the door to your bedroom, a relieved, but still pained expression on her face as she looked over you to make sure that you were okay, now; that you weren’t scared anymore, or hadn’t somehow got yourself wounded in your previous bout of fright - you seemed okay, and it was only when she’d made such a determination that she could breathe again.

Regina hesitantly glanced up at him, though she didn’t like much the idea of looking away the way she just had, feeling as if she should to make it known that she was listening to him, just to avoid being disrespectful, especially considering he was your Uncle, only making her feel like - even more - she should treat him with respect, too, considering she could tell he’d always looked after you, as well as always been good to her ever since she’d joined the stable hand program earlier this year.

“She does?” She replied, her voice light, whilst a soft smile played on her lips - sometimes she got this weird feeling as if she were afraid that she might lose you, somehow, exactly like the one she’d experienced earlier, after the call had ended the way it did, and she couldn’t explain it; she just never wanted things to change; just wanted to stay here, with you, and the thought would fluster her a little as she winced, and hastily averted her gaze to try and hide that blood was rushing up to her cheeks for a reason unbeknownst to her, even as she was stood where she was right now, hardly able to keep her eyes off of your sleeping frame.

“She does,” your Uncle repeated, smiling warmly back at Regina as he rested his left hand upon her right shoulder - a silent thank you, until he could muster up a true one once he’d recomposed himself once more, still thinking about what that man had done to you years ago to the point it was unbearable; overwhelmingly excruciatingly, as well as frustrating, but he couldn’t let it get to him too long, not now, “and she hardly likes anyone - sometimes I’m not sure she even likes me, but I suppose I don’t blame her.”

“She likes you,” she reassured him gently, the words escaping her lips before she even knew that she was allowing them to; she didn’t want him to think that you thought bad things about him for what happened all those years ago, “I’ve seen what it’s like, Y/n not liking someone, and the way she is around you, is not that.”

“Is that so?” Your Uncle responded, and she could hear that he was smiling, making her feel a little better; warmer, and brighter, to know that she’d made him feel better, as he should considering he’d been the only one taking care of you even before your parents had divorced the way they did years ago, now. She hummed in agreement, certain of herself, and he would express relief, his eyes glinting a little as he smiled back at you, glad to see that you were sleeping peacefully, at the moment, whilst also being overjoyed to hear such words from Regina; he hated doubting that you at least trusted him after what had been done to you, but sometimes it just hit him - hard - and completely at random, but somehow he felt it wouldn’t happen anymore, now, or at least he hoped against hope that it wouldn’t, now that Regina had made such a revelation about you. “I’m glad,” he continued quietly; thoughtfully, before he turned to face her fully, and she would appear a little nervous, looking over at him again as she wondered what he may be about to say; whether he was about to kick her out, or about to leave you and her alone together, though she couldn’t imagine why either possibilities scared her as much as they seemed to, “but not just because of your kind words, Ms. George. You see, Y/n’s never really smiled, and didn’t talk as much as she does, now, and I think it’s because of you - that’s why I’m not only grateful for your words, and reassurance, but-.. I’m also grateful that-..” He fell quiet again, trying to stop his voice trembling for a moment whilst Regina smiled sympathetically over at him; she could see this was a struggle for him in more ways than one, after all he’d had to go through alongside you regarding your parents’ divorce, and then you disappearing shortly after it had taken place - if she were in his position, she herself didn’t know what she’d do, nor did she know if she’d even be able to fare if she had to go through what you had had to, even if it had been a while ago that you’d been taken the way you had, now. “Y/n,” he concluded gently, “I’m grateful she has you, above anything else - keep doing what you do, won’t you? Not only for me, but for you, and Y/n, too - you need each other, I can see that; we all need someone, don’t we?”

“I won’t disappoint you, nor will I ever let Y/n down, I promise,” Regina vowed, her voice firm, but still gentle, and close to a whisper; she herself feared breaking down somehow in front of him, as well as you, whilst another part of her was afraid of waking you up, and having you get scared again, “c-can I-..” She sighed, before awkwardly averting her gaze; it was difficult for her to get the words out, right now, though she wanted more than anything to stay here with you, at least just for tonight, so she could protect you, if only he’d let her. “I know this might be a lot for me to ask, but-.. can I-.. can I stay here, tonight, with - with her?” She managed, the question coming out faster than she thought it would, just because she was scared she would break down, or just start stammering again if she voiced it any slower, but your Uncle just smiled softly, a thoughtful look on his face, before he nodded slowly, prompting Regina’s eyes to glint, before she smiled sheepishly over at him, feeling lighter than she ever had before.

“Sure,” he answered simply, “I’m sure your mother wouldn’t mind, just - call me, if Y/n-.. y’know, has another nightmare, and I’ll take over for you, but I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

Regina would wince, before nodding hastily, and managing a quick as well as barely audible ‘will do’, before your Uncle left the room, and disappeared back down the stairs, leaving her alone in the room with you.

🜚

At first, she didn’t know what to do with herself, warily looking over at you again as she subconsciously fidgeted with her fingers, before she inched closer to you, and carefully sat down upon your bed beside you. You were so peaceful; so quiet, that she even subconsciously made sure that you were still breathing, worried for a moment that you’d stopped because you were so limp, but your chest was still rising and falling steadily. She smiled softly, before laying down beside you quietly, wanting to make sure that - by staying as close to you as she possibly could be - you were safe; that you weren’t being plagued by another nightmare, but it relieved her to see you so peaceful that you couldn’t be being tortured by your memories again - at least she hoped you weren’t, of course there was no way to be able to tell if you were, or weren’t in the process of being plunged into such a nightmare again.

“Y/n?” She cooed, wanting to make sure that you were asleep, and weren’t - also - pretending to be asleep to trick her at the same time, though she felt bad for asking, when she saw you so peaceful, the way that you were, now. It relieved her to not achieve a response from you, but at the same time it also pained her a little to know that she’d have to wait until morning to speak to you, as long as you didn’t awaken from a nightmare again before then.

🜸

“Your daughter,” your Uncle began, as he re-entered the kitchen where Mrs. George was currently sitting, still drinking her coffee whilst she anxiously waited for Regina to come back downstairs, clearly unaware of her daughter’s decision, during this moment in time, “she’s decided she wants to stay upstairs with Y/n, if that’s okay with you?”

She sat up, surprised, before setting her phone back down upon the table to turn toward your Uncle, whilst she tried to hide that she was slightly perturbed by this revelation, only because she’d not been expecting it, and had been keen to get home.

“Sure,” she replied, injecting at least some brightness into her voice; she knew how much you meant to her daughter, and she didn’t want to force Regina away from you, “why not?”

Your Uncle nodded, before smiling softly over at her, as he took his coat off of the hanger again, knowing he should make sure the horses were asleep, by now, before retiring for the night.

“Now that we both know about your daughter, and my niece,” he continued, as he took up his flashlight, “I figure maybe we should fully introduce ourselves, what do you say?”

Mrs. George appeared taken aback, evidently surprised by his suggestion, but she’d feel guilty if she turned it down, and didn’t see any particular reason as to why she should as she smiled warmly over at him, and got up out of her seat, before she held out her right hand, and said: “June.”

🜸

It didn’t take long for Regina to get comfortable, but almost as soon as she had, carefully wrapping her arms around you, you tensed up within her embrace, whimpering barely audibly as your eyelids began to flutter open a bit, though they were still heavy. Regina winced, hastily closing her eyes as if it would help her to pretend that she were asleep, but that didn’t stop you from carefully turning around within her arms.

“R-Reg?” You managed, your voice close to a whisper, and she would falter upon hearing your voice, hastily glancing over at you as she locked eyes with you for a moment, her heart skipping a beat.

“Hi,” she replied sleepily, unable to hold back a smile from you as you admired her subconsciously, your heart pounding alongside her own, “I - I’m sorry, I just wanted-.. I came to make sure you’re okay; that - that you’re happy - I was worried about you.”

You frowned, a pained expression on your face, before you looked away, and turned a little away from her, lying upon your back instead of your left side.

“You shouldn’t have been,” you responded dejectedly, “I-.. I shouldn’t have called you, I just-.. I - I wanted to hear your voice, and-.. and to-.. to tell you that I-.. that you mean a lot to me, a-and that if I got taken away, you should-..”

Regina shook her head subconsciously, before lifting her left hand up to your right cheek; she wasn’t sure why - it just felt right, and part of her wanted to feel how soft your cheeks looked.

“I could never forget you,” she stated, and you would falter, your head turning toward her own again, and for a moment you both just locked eyes again, your hearts beating as one; the air growing hotter between you both, and for a moment you wondered if you were floating, even as you glanced down at her lips, and she at your partially agape ones, until she finally leaned forward, and allowed her own to connect with your’s.

🜸

“You like horses, don’t you, June?” Cal - Your Uncle - asked Regina’s mother, as she surveyed them all peacefully, trying not to get too excited or skittish around them; she’d always liked horses - well, the ones that weren’t a few hands taller than her, which she often considered to be intimidating as well as scary, somehow, even with their hairy hooves and often calm demeanour.

“Sure, I like them,” she answered, as she warily tucked a stray piece of her hair behind her right ear. “It’s only the really big ones that make me feel uncomfortable,” she added, and Cal couldn’t help, but chuckle, before he stopped before Firenze’s stall, your Black Leopard Chimera Friesian, who appeared to currently be half asleep, if Felicity, your White Friesian wasn’t currently bothering him the way that she was.

“You wouldn’t like Y/n’s horses, then,” he stated, before gesticulating toward them whilst June cautiously watched him approach their stall doors - he only stopped briefly in front of Firenze’s, before passing toward Felicity’s, seeing he needed to try and relax her, somehow, for her makeshift sibling’s sake - they certainly acted as if they were siblings, squabbling the way that they did, whether they were of the same bloodline, or not.

June hesitated, not sure what to make of them as Felicity whinnied as well as snorted at Cal, before playfully trying to nibble at his fingers, just like she tended to try and do whenever you were around her, too. Firenze was certainly the calmer of the two, except from when you were out riding with him - as soon as you’re in the saddle, and out on the field with him, he tended to like bolting almost as much as Felicity did.

“I - I mean,” June began again quietly, trying to hide that she was a little nervous around them, as she inched closer to Felicity’s stall, being encouraged to by Cal as he stroked the mare’s mane, “they’re certainly - interesting looking horses.”

“Cross-bred, I fear,” Cal admitted sympathetically, “we decided at an auction to rescue them from whatever hell-hole they must have came from, before.”

“How very - considerate, of you,” June remarked, and Cal would hum softly in agreement, before smiling his thanks over at her.

“Well, it did start off as being Y/n’s idea,” he revealed, as Felicity tried to nibble at his fingers again, whilst Firenze surveyed the group peacefully, “but-..” He sighed, a pained expression crossing his face again as he looked away from June; a look similar to the one he’d been holding and trying to hide from them earlier, whilst he was telling her and her daughter about what had happened to you, a few years ago, now. “I remember she told me she wanted to rescue as many horses as she possibly could, when she was a little girl, and at the time of that auction these two were almost as small as she was - she took one look at them and knew something wasn’t right; I remember she tugged on my sleeve, and was almost crying when I turned to look at her, and she never got to see them growing from the foals that they were, into these two beauties, by the time she could come back - life kept her away from me, you see, with the divorce; her being taken..” He trailed off, his eyes darkening again as Felicity nuzzled at his hand, no longer making any attempt at all to nibble at his fingers the way that she was, before, sensing his sadness, as well as frustration at how he’d not been able to do anymore than he had tried to help you, before, but he guessed that that was years ago, now, and that he shouldn’t be dwelling on it anymore, but it was too hard to forget, and too easy to remember.

“I understand,” June expressed, smiling sadly at Cal as she leaned against the stall door beside him, Felicity eyeing her curiously, “it’s hard, losing the people you really care about.” Cal would nod gravely as he stared ahead of him thoughtfully, June tensing up a little beside him as she thought about how she’d actually miscarried, a few years after Regina had been born. “Regina had a little sister, named Kylie,” she began timidly, her voice barely audible as Cal surveyed her, listening to every word whilst Felicity seemed to grow a little more comfortable around June, her blue eyes trained on her, before they occasionally flickered to Cal, or even Firenze as he lightly snored in the stall beside her, “she didn’t get a chance, at life - I-.. I miscarried, when.. when I thought she’d survive.. I guess the doctors did warn me, but..” She drew in a shaky breath, and Cal would frown, trying to provide comfort to her by wrapping his arms around her, as she tried to continue, only to break down, and return the embrace, crying quietly into his left shoulder. “Regina, she - she doesn’t talk about her, but,” June managed shakily, her voice close to a feeble whisper, “I know she thinks about her, even if she tries to hide it from me; she was excited, too, at the idea of having a little sister - she really was, a-and I really tried; I swear I did, but-”

“There was nothing that you could have done, Mrs. George,” Cal reassured her gently, as he rubbed her back to try and soothe her even more, Felicity still looking on at them, “these things, they just-.. just seem to - happen, when you least expect, or want them to; life can be cruel, but love - I’ve learnt - love can be crueler.”

🜸

“Shit,” Regina whispered, after she pulled away, wincing as she silently cursed herself for losing control like she just had, allowing herself to kiss you, but it was hard for her to deny that it wasn’t something she’d been wanting to do, and feel for a while.

You frowned, feeling empty ever since the kiss had ended, and you couldn’t bear to see the pained expression on her face, as if she didn’t feel the butterflies fluttering within the depths of her stomach the way they were your’s, right now.

“You-.. You didn’t like it, did you?” You guessed, your voice barely audible as you stared over at her with dark eyes, prompting her heart to sink as she averted her gaze, subconsciously sitting up as she did beside you, only making you feel worse; you guessed you shouldn’t have expected anything more, or else to happen, when she kissed you the way she did, and you’d melted into her touch - you only wished that things that felt so perfect could hurt less, as the pain you were currently trying to hide from her was next to unbearable; excruciating, but it wasn’t something new to you, as you - too - forced yourself to look away, staring dejectedly up at the ceiling as she tried to recompose herself, her breathing pattern unnaturally staggered, and uneven, whilst her heart pounded overwhelmingly alongside your own.

“This is-.. I - I’m not-.. I-.. fuck-!” She concluded, finding she couldn’t quite get the right words out; she didn’t know how to feel, right now - the kiss she’d just shared with you was like no other that she’d ever been part of, before, and it terrified her. As soon as her lips had been against your’s, it was like the whole world just fell away; it was just you two, alone, as if you both were the last two people on earth; like she was a lit firework, desperate to soar even higher - it had filled her with energy; elation, to be with you like that; to have her lips brushing against your own, and it was hard more than anything else had ever been before, for her to not turn back around, and initiate an even deeper kiss. “I didn’t think-..” She continued weakly, as she forced herself up off of the bed, whilst you silently begged her with everything within you to stay. “I’m sorry, Y/n, okay?” She managed, noticing the worried as well as hurt look on your face whilst she lingered by your bedroom door, as if she were about to slip through it, and get away from you as fast as she possibly could, if only something wasn’t gluing her to where she was stood, right now, for a reason unbeknownst to her. “I can’t do this; I can’t stay; I can’t kiss you - I don’t know why I thought I could, o-or should, I just-.. you understand, right? T-There’s Shane, a-and this is all - this is all so confusing, I just-”

“It’s fine,” you reassured her gently, though she could hear in your voice the pain you were currently trying to harbour from her, “don’t worry about it, okay? I should-.. I should get back to sleep, but-..”

“Right,” Regina agreed, before wincing again, as if she’d forgotten so easily, after she’d allowed herself to kiss you the way she did, a brief moment ago; it was like she’d forgotten a lot of things, until the kiss had sadly been broken - something she couldn’t help, but hate herself for. “S-Sorry,” she added, her voice barely audible again, before she drew in a shaky breath, and you smiled sadly up at her. “I-.. I should-”

“Don’t let me keep you,” you stated, and she would frown, before nodding gravely, and bowing her head.

“I hope you sleep well,” she replied, and you would wince, doubting that you would, especially now, but you didn’t dare show her the pained expression on your face that would suggest otherwise, after you’d nodded and forced a smile again.

“You too,” you returned awkwardly, though your heart was aching excruciatingly still alongside her own, to the point that you wished you could just tear it out of your chest, and break it apart in your hands, before offering the remaining pieces to her, whether she wanted them, or not; you’d never stop dreaming of a life with her - that’s all you knew, now.

“Thanks,” she responded gently, trying not to allow her voice to tremble as she avoided eye contact with you for a moment, before bowing her head completely as she shuffled awkwardly on the spot, “w-well, goodnight, a-and I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?”

The question felt more like a plead, and you couldn’t help, but surrender to it, your eyes widening a little, before you nodded hastily, not wanting her to think that you’d abandon her like that, though it didn’t sound like a bad idea to just try and get yourself to disappear, somehow, after what had just occurred between you both a brief moment ago, before this moment in time.

“I - I’ll be there, tomorrow,” you reassured, your voice briefly cracking, and she would express relief, before smiling her thanks to you, though all she could manage right now was a faint one, through the pain she was currently experiencing alongside you for a reason unbeknownst to her, “a-and here, after school, y’know, d-doing what I usually do, so-..”

“Good,” she mused thoughtfully; gratefully, “that’s - that’s good - I’m.. I’m glad, I-.. I’ll see you there, o-or here, I-..” She awkwardly cleared her throat, before managing another timid smile in your direction. “See you tomorrow, Y/n,” she concluded gently, before drawing in another strained breath, and dragging herself from the room.

🜸

“I think she likes you,” Cal stated, as Felicity whinnied at June, before allowing her to begin scratching at her left ear, all whilst she leaned into her touch, but before either of them could continue, Firenze seemed jealous, waking up shortly after in response to the commotion, before he got up off of the ground, and neither for Cal to stroke him, too, as well as his makeshift sister.

“You do?” June mused, subconsciously smiling over at him, not worried anymore that Felicity might nibble at her fingers the way she feared the mare would, before, seeing her all playful with Cal, earlier.

“Without a doubt,” Cal answered, “that’s unusual, for her, as well as her brother - they’re comfortable around me and Y/n, and understandably so, but around other people, except for you and your daughter, they seem-.. anxious - that’s why I only really allow myself or Y/n to ride them, outside of the arenas - well, only when there’s a lesson going on inside.”

“I see,” June responded thoughtfully, “so they’re that difficult, huh?”

“They can be,” he agreed hesitantly, “but not if you show them who’s the boss, as well as treat them with the respect that they deserve - isn’t that right, guys?”

“If only they had a better upbringing,” June mused sympathetically, and Cal would nod gravely beside her.

“They’ll get there, someday, I hope,” Cal continued gently, as he began stroking at Firenze’s left ear, “I have faith, Mrs. George, and faith is what will get us all through to where we need to go, in the end-”

“Mom? Mr. L/n?” Regina called, hugging herself as she walked toward the stable, shivering a little - the wind was picking up even more, somehow, since she’d left.

June would falter upon hearing her daughter’s voice, looking toward the double doors, whilst Cal seemed to tense up behind her, his eyes full of worry, as well as the concern he was currently holding for both you and Regina, wondering if you had had another nightmare, and that’s why she’d left all of a sudden, though he couldn’t imagine why the sleep medication would have worn off so fast, especially to enable you to be plunged into another nightmare like he assumed you had been, until Regina had rushed inside, looking shaken up, as well as a little guilty, her eyes dark, and hands barely visibly trembling at her sides.

June didn’t hesitate to - upon noticing the state her daughter was currently in - to rush over to Regina, before throwing her arms around her.

“What’s wrong, sweetie? You’re cold, we should get you inside before you get sick - is it Y/n?” She questioned, whilst Cal warily approached the both of them, Firenze and Felicity going back to squabbling rather than watching the group.

Regina didn’t know what to say, at first, hiding her face from the both of them as she neglected to return her mother’s embrace, finding herself unable to move for a moment as guilt positively consumed her; she wished she’d never left your side, now, especially the way she had, leaving you so dejected and confused, whilst she tried not to meet your Uncle’s worried gaze; she didn’t want to tell him what had happened; didn’t want to tell him that that was why she was leaving - that she was scared of how the kiss had made her feel, especially when she had been the one to initiate it in the first place.

So many questions were circling in her mind to the point that there had never been anything more overwhelming - whilst her mother tried to get answer after answer out of her, there were whispers of why she’d let herself kiss you, in the first place; whispers of why you’d returned the kiss, and - above all of them - why she had enjoyed it, more than she had ever enjoyed any other kiss she’d ever shared with anyone else.

“Is she okay?” Cal asked, and she only felt worse, hearing his voice briefly cracking; she’d never intended to worry him like that, remembering the promise she’d made him to never let you down, whilst she couldn’t help, but think about the day she’d found you having a panic attack within the stable, when you were least expecting yourself to.

She was meant to be mucking up with you again, at the time, as she rushed toward the stable, trudging through the mud that had formed after the rain had poured down heavily that day - the lessons had all been cancelled, because of it, she remembered being disappointed about, but she understood why. Only the stable hands were allowed to come by, and past the information point, but there weren’t many so it was quite quiet, but - in a way - she liked how quiet it was, mostly because she knew it would be rare, then, for anyone to come by and interrupt her incoming time with you, and the soft smile would probably never have left her face, if she didn’t hear someone sounding like you crying inside.

As soon as she heard you, her heart dropped, and smile faded as she lingered by the door for a moment, not sure what to do; why it hurt so much, to hear you like that, and she worried that maybe it would be intrusive of her to go inside, now, whilst you were in a state like that, but something pushed her to open the doors before she could even think to go and get your Uncle, instead. She had to see you; she didn’t want to leave you alone like that, and her legs took over for her, before her doubts could.

She appeared nervous, as well as concerned, her eyes darkening as soon as her gaze fell upon you, curled up, and crying against the back wall, a shovel laid down to your right beside you, only worrying her even more as she wondered if you’d somehow hurt yourself, or had fallen over whilst she was gone, as she rushed up to you, and crouched down beside you, her heart pounding alongside your own, faster than it ever had before.

“Y/n?” She strained out, her voice briefly trembling, and full of dread as she reached out to cradle your body close to her own, but you moved away before she could get any closer, evidently startled, and somehow scared of her for a reason unbeknownst to her, as if she were instead a figment of a horrible memory, rather than your friend, prompting her heart to sink and ache even further, as if it were being squeezed tightly within her chest at the very thought, of having you react to her in the way that you currently were, terrified of her, and shaking visibly against the wall.

The horses around you both seemed a little agitated, as well, upon seeing you in such a state, especially Firenze and Felicity as they looked on curiously at you both, their eyes also full of worry, whilst an occasional whinny came from their direction as if they were trying to get either you, or Regina’s attention

“G-Get away from me!” You cried, your voice close to a shaky whisper that might soon break down alongside you, as if everything within you was collapsing, somehow; your very core was being shaken by what you thought you’d seen, a brief moment ago.

Regina subconsciously shook her head, a hurt look on her face as she inched closer to you; she knew you didn’t mean it - that this wasn’t you seeing what was really in front of you. At the time, your Uncle had warned her of how you were liable to having panic attacks, but they weren’t very common, and were often easily rectified if ever in an emergency situation like if you ever had one during a riding lesson with the students your Uncle allowed into the place.

“Y/n, it’s me,” she cooed, her voice ever so gentle, and you would hesitate, before glancing up at her, your breathing slowing down as soon as your tearful and sore gaze fell upon her.

“R-Regina?” You managed, and she couldn’t help, but breathe a sigh of relief, her eyes glinting whilst a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips again, brightening her up like a lighthouse would the ocean, and you couldn’t help, but get lost in her eyes, feeling safer around her than you ever had with anyone else before.

“You’re okay,” she continued, and you wouldn’t hesitate to collapse into her arms as she drew you close to her, once you allowed her to, and had recognised her to be - well, her, and not your kidnapper, all those years ago, “I promise - you’re safe here, and you always will be, no matter what.”

“I thought-..” You whispered feebly, your voice still shaking, whilst you tried to calm yourself down, focussing on her warmth to the best of her ability, rather than the picture of your kidnapper breaking into your room, a flashlight in his hand, whilst he held a crowbar in his other one. You drew in a shaky breath, clinging to her jacket tighter as you whimpered quietly, fighting back another strained sob to the best of your ability. “Him,” you managed again weakly, “I thought I saw him.”

You then winced, remembering she didn’t know about what had happened to you, before - well, she knew about everything regarding the divorce, but nothing about the kidnapping, so to speak.

“Him?” Regina mused, a pained expression on her face whilst you sniffled barely audibly against her left shoulder, not daring to glance up at her for fear of what she’d think of you; of what she’d achieve out of you - she had that kind of effect on you; the one that made you feel like you could tell her anything, and everything, and the truth was so close on your lips, but you couldn’t let it slip out; you never wanted to think, or even talk about it, ever again, if only your brain would allow you to forget it, forever, after today.

“My dad,” you managed, instead, trying to hide that it had relieved you, to be able to lie, like you just had, “I saw him - he - he was drinking again, he-.. he was shouting, a-and I-.. I-”

“It’s okay,” she reassured you again hastily, not wanting you to panic anymore than you already had as she lifted her right hand up to the back of your head, allowing her to stroke your hair, soothing you more than you thought possible as you drew in a barely audible breath again, and buried your face into the crook of her neck, prompting her to shudder a little, but she tried to hide that you’d flustered her as she pretended to cough, and you appeared a little dejected, closing your eyes tightly to try and fight back the remaining of your tears, “I’m here - I’m here, Y/n, a-and I’m always gonna be here for you, I promise, I-.. no matter what; he isn’t here anymore, and he can never hurt you again - I’d never let him; he wouldn’t ever be able to even touch a hair on your head, I swear, because he wouldn’t get through me - I swear on my life that he wouldn’t; you trust me, don’t you?”

You would appear taken aback by the question, before nodding hastily, sniffling again, and locking eyes with her, making your heart feel as if it had stopped, for a moment, as you tried not to get lost within her orbs again.

“M-More than anything,” you answered, without hesitation, “I - I’ve trusted you ever since I first met you, Reg.”

“Good,” she replied, evidently relieved to hear as much, before she smiled timidly over at you, prompting your heart to skip a beat, and you to forget how to breathe for a moment - how to even function, if she didn’t affectionately connect her forehead to your own, in an attempt to further provide comfort to you, seeing that you needed it still for a reason unbeknownst to her, “I’m glad, because - because I’ve also trusted you ever since I first met you, too - you’re-.. a really good friend; you always have been, and I wanna repay you for being here for me the way you have been.”

You tried to hide that the words ‘really good friend’ had dejected you, prompting you to smile half-heartedly back at her whilst your eyes darkened, and heart squeezed within your chest, feeling as if someone were trying to tear it to pieces somehow, whilst all you could do was watch, and feel it get broken in so many more ways in one, no matter how close you and Regina currently were - the pain would never go away, not until you stopped dreaming of a life with her, as well as stopped being plunged into nightmares about your past - something you feared could never happen, no matter how much you wanted it to. Besides - even if you were reluctant to let your dreams concerning her go - you knew that someone as perfect as her could never feel the same way for someone like you, could they?

‘I’m always gonna be here for you, I promise.’ Her own words kept circling her mind, even as Cal inched closer, his hands trembling a little whilst June, her mother, held her at arm’s length, tears slowly beginning to stream down her cheeks again.

“She’s fine,” Regina managed, barely audibly, her heart pounding uncomfortably again as she averted her gaze down to the ground once more, as soon as Cal expressed relief, before bowing his own head alongside her; he’d evidently been afraid that maybe you’d had a nightmare again, and freaked out on her, but it didn’t completely take his dread away, considering she was here, and not still up there with you.

“That’s good,” June mused, her voice gentle, and eyes never leaving her daughter, as if she were trying to search for the answer upon her to why she’d left you so suddenly, when you’d not even had a nightmare like they feared you had, as soon as they laid eyes upon her so shaken up again, “but-”

“Don’t,” she interjected, her eyes widening, voice trembling, whilst she tried not to allow a strained sob to escape her; talking wasn’t helping, when she was on the verge of breaking down again, “please.”

June winced, before smiling apologetically back at Cal, who sighed barely audibly, before nodding gravely back at her; he understood - it was difficult, and he didn’t want to force Regina in any way, shape, or form, to tell either of them about what had happened when she was set completely against doing so, for a reason unbeknownst to herself as well as the two before her. In a way, it felt like it was something dangling upon the tip of her tongue; she longed to tell people, in secret, that she’d kissed you, and that scared her - it was almost like an addiction, because at the same time she couldn’t decide whether she wanted to share any detail, at all, instead of going back upstairs to do it all over again.

She drew in a sharp breath, wishing she could stop thinking, and not just about the kiss, but also about how much she’d relaxed into it; how it made her feel - she couldn’t stop thinking about you, about all the times you’d smiled sheepishly in her direction, causing her heart to jump somehow in her chest, whilst she began to feel warm and fuzzy each time. She thought about all the times she held you, and you held her, and it was almost enough to make her smile softly down at the ground, until she remembered what had happened between you both a brief moment ago, and how it had ended; how she’d pulled away, and cursed herself for feeling anything for you, without you actually knowing that she did, and feared she always had.

June awkwardly cleared her throat, looking between Regina and your Uncle for a moment whilst she tried to think about the right words to say, now, after what had just happened, with her fleeing your room the way that she had.

“Maybe we should-”

“It might be for the best,” Cal interrupted dejectedly, and June would frown, before nodding gravely, whilst Regina didn’t dare say another word, not sure what to do with herself, now; not sure what to even feel, or think, anymore, now that she’d allowed herself to kiss you the way that she did, “but you can always come around another time, if you want to.”

“T-The place is gonna be open tomorrow, right?” Regina asked, her voice close to a whisper, and Cal would tense up, before nodding slowly, and smiling apologetically in her direction. “And Y/n’ll be-?” She continued, just to make sure.

“She’ll be here,” he reassured her, his eyes still warm regardless of what had just happened between her and you, as well as after the conversation she had had with him, promising that she wouldn’t let either you, or him down, “even if it rains - I take it we’ll still see you tomorrow, then, won’t we, Ms. George?”

“Yes,” Regina answered, without hesitation this time, and Cal would nod as well as smile his thanks to her, glad to see she at least wasn’t giving up on you, even though he and her mother still didn’t know why things had evidently changed the way they had.

“Then we’ll see you tomorrow,” he concluded gently, “goodnight, both of you, and I hope to see both of you again soon, outside of work and riding hours, if you ever wanna come around again.”

🜚

“What was that?” June questioned, once she and her daughter had left the barn, as well as Cal inside it, walking hastily back toward the car mostly because of Regina’s fast pace, but it didn’t stop her from occasionally as well as guilty and dejectedly glancing up at the house you were still meant to be sleeping within.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Regina answered simply, her voice barely audible, and sounding strained, as if she were struggling to hold herself together; struggling to stop it from trembling, even now; even after she’d kissed you, something she’d been subconsciously dreaming of doing for a while, now, only to find herself panicking, and drawing back the way she did though it had been one of the most blissful feelings she’d ever experienced before, to have her lips slot perfectly against your own.

“That might be the case, Regina, but I think this is something we should talk about,” her mother contradicted, and Regina would tense up, wincing, as she bowed her head, and hugged her arms closer to her chest, “why did you leave like that? Did Y/n do something to you?”

Regina faltered in place, her legs failing as she stopped in place, her eyes darkening; she couldn’t let you take the fall for her, even if it wouldn’t change how she felt, to have you kiss her, like she’d kissed you a brief moment ago.

“No,” she answered, without hesitation, sounding a little exasperated as she turned sharply on her mother, “she - she didn’t, she-..” She couldn’t stop it, small tears leaking from her eyes as her mother surveyed her curiously, evidently concerned, even as her daughter defended you, and she was still unaware of what had happened between you both. “I-.. It was me, okay?” She admitted weakly, and June’s expression would soften, her eyes growing a little warmer as she tilted her head partially, before lifting her hands up to her daughter’s shoulders.

“It’s okay,” she cooed gently, as Regina gradually began to break down.

“I did it-”

“Don’t cry, sweetie, it’s okay,” June continued in a softer voice as she drew her daughter into her arms, “just tell me what happened, and I’ll try and help you - I promise I will; the damage can’t be that bad, can it?”

“I kissed her,” she answered, in a voice close to a whisper, and June would fall quiet for a moment, realising.

“That’s okay,” she reassured her, and Regina would hesitate, before glancing up at her mother with a pained expression on her face, “h-how did it seem, to you?”

She would appear confused by the question, as well as a little further flustered by it, wincing again, before she bowed her head, and shuffled awkwardly upon the spot whilst she continued to try and swallow the lump back within her throat.

“W-What do you mean?” Regina inquired, as if she didn’t know, but her mother wouldn’t give in - not yet.

“You know what I mean, honey,” June insisted, her eyes trying to meet her daughter’s again, if only they’d let her, “how did the kiss feel, to you? Did you like it?”

“That’s irrelevant,” Regina contradicted, before pulling out of her mother’s embrace, and continuing toward the car, but June continued along the way, rushing after her daughter no matter how fast she walked ahead of her.

“Oh, c’mon, sweetie,” she pried, “I know you, and if you just talk to me about it, maybe I could help you!”

“Well you’re not helping me,” Regina spat, her voice briefly cracking as she opened the right back door of her mother’s car.

“Then tell me how I can help you-”

“You can help me, by shutting up,” she hissed, and June would falter, before nodding gravely, and appearing a little dejected, prompting Regina to falter, and sigh heavily as she looked away from her mother, not sure what had made her snap like that, but - all she knew now - was that she needed to be careful, around you, for her own sake, as much as your’s.

🜸

‘Well you’re not helping me!’ You heard Regina snap at her mother from a few paces below your bedroom window, prompting your heart to sink as you warily inched closer to the wall, before getting up off of your bed to sneak a glance at the two of them outside of their car.

Your lips tingled a little, as you thought back to the kiss, your heart skipping a beat, before it dropped and felt as if it were being squeezed excruciatingly all over again. You drew in a strained, shaky, and barely audible breath, your eyes darkening as you bowed your head a little, before releasing the curtain from your left hand; you shouldn’t dwell on it any longer, especially when you doubted anyone as perfect as her could feel anything for you, too.

“Y/n?” Cal began gently, his voice full of concern again as well as sympathy; he could tell that you were in pain, your shoulders tensing up a little as you glanced back at him, a lump forming within your throat as you scowled shook your head, small tears clouding your vision.

“It wasn’t her,” you claimed, without hesitation, “it - it wasn’t-”

“It’s okay,” he reassured you, a pained expression on his face as he drew closer to you slowly, the car outside slowly beginning to pull out of the drive-way, its wheels crackling upon the gravel, filling up the rest of the painful silence that passed between you both, until you felt able to speak up again.

“It’s not!” You cried, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore, steadily beginning to break down as he wrapped his arms around you, strained sobs slipping from your lips as you shook within his embrace, before returning it tightly, unable to stop thinking about her, and how her lips were so soft against your own, only making the pain worse than it was, before. “It was me! I scared her away; I kissed her,” you added hoarsely, and Cal would realise, his heart sinking alongside your own at such a revelation; he didn’t think Regina would reject you like that, but he held no hatred for anyone, but your father, and the man who had kidnapped you - he knew she must have her reasons, and she did, “it was all me; my fault; m-my stupid brain - she probably hates me, now-”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Cal contradicted hastily, not wanting you to think something like that as he held you at arms length, “I can see that she doesn’t; she probably just-.. needs some time, to think about things, but she told me herself that she’d be back, hopefully tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

You would appear taken aback, your heart skipping a beat, before you glanced up at him, sniffled quietly, and lifted your right hand up to wipe your eyes, but it didn’t stop the smaller tears from leaking out of the corners of them.

“S-She told you that, too?” You mused, and Cal would nod, noting that you’d said ‘too’, and not just ended the question on ‘that’, suggesting to him that you’d also heard from her that she’d be returning, the next day, like he had a brief moment ago.

“You doubted that she would?” He guessed, and you would frown, before nodding gravely, and bowing your head again. “I see,” he continued slowly; thoughtfully, “well, I’m afraid the only thing you can do right now, is not worry about what’s already happened, and instead think about what can be done to make up for it, right?”

“I guess,” you agreed begrudgingly, your voice briefly trembling as you tried to recompose yourself even further, somehow, making yet another failure of an attempt to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Good,” he replied, before smiling softly over at you, but you didn’t feel any better, simply forcing a smile over at him, before you awkwardly shuffled on your feet, trying not to think about the kiss anymore with everything within you, but you found it to be the only thing you could think about, the rest of that night, as soon as Cal had hesitantly retired himself to bed after completing one more check of the horses, now all surprisingly asleep as they should be, until the sun came back up excruciatingly slowly for both you, and Regina, the remainder of that night.

🜸🜚🜸

Regina struggled to focus during the school day, even as she and her friends sat together in the cafeteria, you a little ways away from them; you never really tended to sit together - never even seemed to talk, during the day, until you and her met to work as your Uncle’s stablehands after all the school work was done and over with for you both. As usual, Cady and Aaron were sitting together, followed by Janis and her girlfriend from last year, whilst she, Karen, and Gretchen were sat on the end of the table, each talking amongst themselves peacefully, until Karen asked Regina a question, and she was snapped out of her previous trance of thought, trying not to look in your direction as soon as she’d been broken out of it.

Instead, she looked up at Karen and Gretchen, mustered up a half-hearted ‘hm’, before forcing a smile, and wishing someone would give her an excuse to look in your direction; she was desperate to see how you were; to see if you, too, were possibly thinking about what had occurred the day before, but it terrified her to think about how things could change, if her feelings were reciprocated, especially when she’d not even broken up with Shane, yet.

Gretchen appeared concerned, tilting her head partially in response to Regina’s unexpected reaction; she’d never seen her like this before.

“Are you okay, Regina? You’ve been - unusually quiet, today,” she mused, and Regina would wince, before shrugging, and acting as if she were unperturbed; as if nothing were phasing her, as usual - well, not since she’d recovered from the incident with the bus, last year.

“I’m fine,” she reassured, trying to inject some brightness into her voice, “honestly.” But they clearly didn’t believe her, still watching her curiously for a moment, until Gretchen decided to question her some more as she averted her gaze back down to the bottle of water she’d recently bought - she’d not really felt like eating, today.

“Have you even been listening to anything of what we’re saying?” She pried, and Regina would try and fight back a sigh, nodding begrudgingly as she reluctantly returned her gaze to her friends sat opposite her.

“Sure I have,” she answered, her eyebrows furrowing a little, “why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Gretchen replied, truthfully, “unless you’re hiding something from us - are you?”

Regina tensed up, trying not to glance back at you again, as she fidgeted with her hands under the table, trying to find the right answer she could muster in response to her question.

“No,” she responded, a little defensively, as she tried not to express that she was getting a little flustered again, trying desperately not to remind herself of the kiss yesterday, but - no matter how hard she tried - it always seemed to come back to the front of her mind, as if it were a fresher memory than it truly was, “I’d never hide anything from anyone - especially not you guys.” Both Gretchen and Karen shared a look, and Regina tensed up even more, like a deer caught in headlights, but she wouldn’t let them win against her. “N-Not anymore, I mean,” she added, her voice barely audible, and hasty, as if she were afraid of you overhearing such a response.

“Okay,” Gretchen continued slowly, but Regina could tell that she wasn’t quite out of the woods, yet, “if you really were listening, can you answer Karen’s question about the acorns?”

Acorns? That confused her even more, her eyebrows subconsciously furrowing again as she appeared a little puzzled, before looking toward Karen who looked expectant, as well as a little intrigued, mostly because she still wanted to know if acorns were smarter than people, as well as eager to find out somehow what was plaguing Regina’s train of thought the way they could both tell something was, even as she tried to claim that nothing was vexing her in any way, shape, or form, no matter how much they claimed it was.

“Acorns?” She inquired, subconsciously, forgetting the task at hand, and Karen would make to repeat the question, before Gretchen spoke up again.

“See? You weren’t listening,” she determined, and Regina would try not to roll her eyes, realising she’d messed up, “what’s going on with you, today? You’re being weird; this isn’t - well, you, at all.”

She hesitated, trying to make something up, and fast, especially when she noticed that the whole table had just fallen quiet to her left.

“It - It’s nothing,” Regina stated, avoiding eye contact with each of them, “it’s just - I don’t know, me and Shane had a fight again, earlier - that’s all; it’s not a big deal.”

Gretchen’s expression softened, whilst the others appeared concerned as well as worried about their friend - even Damian, sat currently at least a couple tables away to work on lyrics with his boyfriend, Toby (a recent date of his since even before the night of the prom) - looked up upon hearing it had got a little quieter where the group were sitting, right now - something unusual for their table as a whole, even during the shorter break time that came before lunchtime tended to arrive.

She’d feel bad, she knew - if it weren’t an entire lie; she and Shane had, in fact, briefly fought earlier, just before the school day had started, and she’d first regrouped with the others for the day, but she still felt a little heavy, knowing it was what happened between you and her yesterday that she couldn’t stop thinking about, rather than her arguments with Shane recently.

“Are you okay?” Gretchen inquired, her voice a little lower, since it was more of a personal subject to be discussing right now, only meant for the ears of her friends, and preferably nobody else, you excluded, since you were also her friend, though the others didn’t really know about you, yet, considering you didn’t tend to hang out together during the school day the way she did the others.

“Yeah,” Regina answered genuinely - it didn’t phase her anymore, though it probably should; some of the things he called her were horrible, “I - I’m kinda used to it, now, so - it’s not a problem, I swear-”

“Dump him,” Janis interjected, her girlfriend Lisa nodding beside her, “he doesn’t deserve you, honestly.”

“Janis is right,” Cady corroborated, and Regina would nod thoughtfully, managing a timid smile over at each of them as they spoke, “he doesn’t - it’s like, ever since the year started, he’s been avoiding you; you guys used to hang out more, but now.. I don’t trust him - you should totally just drop him, find someone better - there has to be someone else here that you like, is there?”

She didn’t dare answer, though your name was lingering uncomfortably upon the tip of her tongue, especially after her heart had jumped at Cady’s use of the word ‘someone’, instead of simply just another guy, something that she knew would only make her feel uncomfortable after all she’d been through with her ex boyfriends, and Shane, recently, her recently developing feelings for you only adding to that unsettled pit lingering within her stomach.

“Not that I know of, yet,” she claimed, instead, though she soon found herself unable to stop thinking about you again; your voice, small and sleepy, the night before; your eyes glinting; her brushing her lips against your own - her heart jumped again, and she quickly looked away from Cady, shrugging as she tried to distract herself with her bottle of water, all whilst a soft smile tried desperately to play on the curves of her lips in response to the thought of you, and her kissing you the night before. “But I’ll dump him,” she concluded, certain of herself, sounding determined, whilst her friends all appeared relieved at such a revelation, “I just need to wait for the right time to do it.”

🜚

Gravel cracked beneath her boots as she walked up the driveway of your Uncle’s riding centre, light rain droplets falling upon her and the floor below her as she moved swiftly, hoping to find you out in the riding pasture like your Uncle had stated you would be, in an email to each of the stablehands detailing their timetables today; what they were meant to be doing; where they were meant to be, right now, until - as well as a little after - the riding lessons were done for the day, and the horses were catered for until the next morning.

She wrapped her arms around herself, the wind biting a little though she was wearing a jumper, and quite a thick one, hoping it would keep the cold out completely, before she’d arrived here again. A couple other stablehands walked by her, talking amongst themselves and giggling quietly, until they disappeared around the corner, into the stable, but she didn’t stop and follow them, though she wanted to make sure that you were where you were meant to be, before she interrupted a lesson for no particular reason, except to talk to you about the previous night, not sure yet still what she was hoping for from you, as well as herself.

She also had made sure to keep her head down as she passed them, knowing she was probably supposed to be helping them out with arranging tack for the next set of riders, instead of going to the pasture the way that she was, her heart skipping a beat as soon as she noticed the outdoor riding arena coming into view, opposite the indoor one almost directly. She’d never really been in the indoor riding arena before; it was mainly for private lessons, as well as for the training of the horses who seemed to have more of a - challenging and wild personality than the others did - at least, that was what you’d told her the first day she’d arrived here, and asked you about it.

She couldn’t help, but begin walking a bit faster, determined to make things right, somehow, now more than ever, whether that was by just talking to you about what she did, or by doing something she was more afraid of, but she guessed she’d just have to see how you’d react to her, first, as she leaned against the pasture fence, watching you leading the students on Gile, a Buckskin Tobiano Mustang who had a tendency of being grumpy, especially when you’d first introduced her to him.

You rode so well; she couldn’t help, but watch in awe for a moment - she’d been struggling, herself, to get the hang of it, whenever your Uncle had allowed you to give her a lesson alongside the other stablehands as a reward for their work, completely free. She almost forgot what she’d came over here for, until she noticed your Uncle walking over to her, prompting her to wince, and hastily avert her gaze as she wondered if she should just speed-walk out of here, considering she couldn’t think up any other excuses for being here, and not where the others were, currently, preparing for the next group’s lesson in almost less than half an hour - if she wanted to talk to you, and fast, with a resolving of what she’d done the night before, she’d have to do it quickly - like, right now, before he could reach her, and usher her away from the outdoor arena, when that was - unbeknownst to her - the opposite of what he was planning on doing, currently, if only she knew that, herself.

“Remember, keep steady,” she heard you advise the students, walking along behind you, her heart pounding within her chest uncomfortably as she gripped on a little tighter to the fence, trying to find the right words to say, as well as trying desperately not to let go, and flee before it was too late to talk to you, when she felt able to do so, “the horses can sense your fear, and you need to make sure that you treat them with the respect that they deserve, whilst showing them who’s boss if they step out of line, so don’t let yourself slip, but if you do, treat them right, and they’ll treat you right, too.”

“She’s right,” Regina corroborated, and you would falter, your heart skipping a beat as you looked toward her, your eyes glinting a little as you lifted your right hand up to stop the students behind you from getting any closer, your Uncle wincing as he looked over at you, before returning his attention to her, “your strongest muscle, and worst enemy, is your mind - train it well.”

“Regina,” you began timidly, your heart squeezing a little as you remembered the night before, whilst your eyes darkened all over again, but you tried to stop the smile on your face from faltering the way it longed to, at least a little; seeing her would always make the ends of your lips curve up just slightly, as long as she were there with you, the way she was here for you, now, and intended to always be there for you, no matter what, even after what had happened between you both the night before, “w-what are you-”

“I’ll take over for you, Y/n, for a bit, okay?” Cal decided, and you would hesitate, before nodding, and smiling faintly your thanks to him as you carefully dismounted Gile, so your Uncle could instead ride him for the remainder of the lesson, as you jogged over to Regina, and quickly climbed over the fence so you could be out of the way of him as well as the students, especially when they were about to be trotting over some of the poles that had been laid out before the lesson had begun for them.

“Hey,” you greeted a little nervously, as she shuffled awkwardly on the spot for a moment, warily looking over at your Uncle to make sure that he wasn’t looking over at you both, before she gently took your left hand in her right one, mouthed a quick ‘follow me’, and rushed you away from the outdoor riding pasture.

🜚

Time seemed to slow down, for a moment - at least, you felt like it did, as you surveyed her peacefully, your eyes light, and heart pounding still in your chest as her hair flowed behind her, making her look even more like a goddess than she already did. You tried to fight back a sigh, especially since you knew it would sound weird, as you raced behind her, taking a while to catch your breath, until she snuck you into the next stable, and led you over to Firenze and Felicity.

🜸

“What are you doing?” You questioned, once you and Regina had stopped before their stalls, a sheepish smile on her face as she beamed over at you, evidently glad to see you again, after yesterday night’s events.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Y/n?” She inquired, as she carefully took down a couple of bridles, you watching her warily as she walked back up to Firenze’s as well as Felicity’s stall.

“Regina,” you began cautiously, but she wouldn’t listen, “don’t-”

“We won’t get enough time together, if we stay,” Regina interjected gently, and you would falter, a pained expression on your face, before you nodded gravely, and nervously looked away from her, your gaze stopping at the double doors, but luckily they were still closed, and you couldn’t hear anyone passing by, or getting any closer to them.

“Then give me one of the bridles, and I’ll tack up a horse for you,” you replied, and she would frown, evidently disappointed as she glanced back at you; she’d been hoping to ride Felicity, to keep her and her makeshift brother together, but you knew what Felicity liked to do, and you couldn’t risk Regina being flung off of her.

“But-”

“Please!” You begged, and she would sigh, before nodding begrudgingly, and passing on one of the bridles to you; if you and her were going to be riding outside of the establishment, then you wanted to keep her safe, so you moved away from Felicity’s stall, and instead walked toward Sunrise’s one.

🜚

You and Regina slowly walked side-by-side upon your horses, you on Firenze, and she on Sunrise, a pretty dapple grey Dutch Warmblood. Though she tended to slow down a lot without being instructed to do so, you felt she would be better off riding her, instead of Felicity, considering the White Friesian mare did tend to like bolting a lot more than Firenze did, whenever you or your Uncle were riding her outside of the compound.

“How are you doing, over there?” You inquired, trying to hide that you were smirking upon hearing Regina’s quiet struggles beside you, evidently finding it difficult to settle into the saddle more than you ever had.

Regina winced, evidently embarrassed as she tensed up a little, Sunrise snorting as she tossed her head a little, evidently nervous in response to her rider’s discomfort, but you managed to reach over, and hold part of the mare’s rein to try and stabilise her, though you doubted she’d bolt like either Firenze or Felicity would.

“I’m fine,” she claimed, not wanting to appear like she couldn’t handle the mare beneath her like you were managing Firenze, “you don’t need to worry about me - I can do this, I swear!”

“Not like that,” you contradicted gently, and she would grunt, before you reluctantly released the rein, warily watching Sunrise for a moment, before you returned your gaze to her after determining that the mare was calm, enough, “sit up, first, and keep your feet in the stirrups - do not move them out, just yet; you aren’t ready for that.”

She would hesitate, before begrudgingly doing as you told her to do, prompting you to express relief as you surveyed her peacefully, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Okay,” she replied slowly, “what now?”

“Just focus on Sunrise, now,” you answered, “keep a good hold on those reins, but don’t pull at her bit too much, okay? You need her to know that she can trust you; that you know what you’re doing, otherwise she won’t trust you, and will probably end up trying to buck you off of her-”

“Wait, what?” She interjected, and you would wince, Sunrise snorting again as she prodded along, whilst Firenze tossed his head alongside her; they’d evidently not appreciated her interruption, sensing that she was still a little uncomfortable in her position.

“Don’t think about that, now,” you advised her hastily, but still in a soft voice, not wanting to startle the horses any further, “just focus on the reins, and the speed you want her to go. You remember what I told you about slowing down, right? Squeeze her sides a bit, and pull back on the reins-”

“I remember that, I just-..” She trailed off, wincing, before she bowed her head a little, and you would frown, bringing Firenze a little closer to Sunrise so you could encouragingly squeeze her left shoulder using your right hand, prompting her heart to skip a beat as she glanced over at you for a moment, her eyes glinting, and smile beginning to grow back just as easily as it had gone away. You then faltered, remembering the night before again as you tried not to glance down at her lips, your eyes darkening, and heart sinking as you forced a smile over at her, before you removed your hand from her shoulder, trying not to break down, or lose your focus, especially not right now, with Firenze, and the possibility of him bolting when you were least expecting him to. “Hey,” she began gently; a little dejectedly as she averted her gaze back down to the reins, “I just-.. I wanted to bring you out here because-.. because I wanted to tell you that I - I’m-”

“Don’t,” you interrupted weakly, and she would fall quiet, a pained expression on her face as she looked over at you, tensing up a little again as she wondered why her heart felt as if it were being squeezed all over again, “I-.. there’s nothing for you to be sorry for, okay? We were both - both tired, a-and-..”

“Yeah, but-.. why?” She questioned, and you would appear puzzled, as well as a little scared as you looked over at her, your eyes full of a little anxiety as you wondered what she were trying to achieve out of you after what had happened between you both last night.

“Why were we both tired?” You inquired, hopefully, but she would hastily shake her head, appearing a little exasperated in response to your own question.

“No,” she answered, her voice trembling a little, “I - I meant - why? Why didn’t you push me away, then? If you didn’t like it, why didn’t you push me away? None of it makes sense-”

“Does it have to make sense?” You retorted, and she would falter, a hurt look on her face in response to you snapping at her the way you had, prompting you to falter, a pained expression on your face as you bowed your head a little, your eyes darkening again as guilt as well as shame began to overwhelm you; you hated upsetting her, the way you could tell you had a brief moment ago. You both rode along in silence for a little while, universes of pain spreading between you both excruciatingly, but you didn’t know what to say, so instead you allowed what you were currently thinking to slip from your lips, instead. “I’m sorry,” you continued a little shakily, as small tears began to cloud your vision, a lump beginning to form within your throat again, and Regina would frown, her heart aching for you in response to the sound of your voice breaking the way it did, prompting her to glance over at you, her expression softening as she did, “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Y/n-”

“I-.. I can’t always know the answer,” you interrupted feebly again, and she would shake her head hastily, not wanting you to feel as if you had to explain yourself like that, especially when it prompted you to begin putting yourself down again, something that hurt her almost as much as it hurt you, whenever she heard you cursing yourself for things like this, “a-and I hate myself for that, I really do, I-”

“It’s not your fault,” she contradicted gently, and you would hesitate, before you fell quiet, and glanced over at her again, your heart skipping a beat as soon as your gaze fell upon her; her soft eyes, sweet smile - it was an effort not to get lost within her orbs all over again, all the while you still found yourselves longing to glance down at her lips, your own tingling again at the thought of the kiss you’d shared with her last night - if only she’d not made you crave it even more than you ever had anything else before, as soon as she’d shared such an addictive experience with you. “It’s mine, okay? You know it is,” she reminded you, but you didn’t want her to take the blame for it, either, making to protest, before she continued again, “I’m sorry.”

You hastily shook your head again, your heart pounding against your ribcage uncomfortably whilst you tried to find the right words to say, but your thoughts were too loud, and your lips were still tingling as the memory of the night before kept replaying within your mind.

“Reg-”

“No,” she interjected, sounding a little exasperated again, “you don’t get to apologise for things that aren’t your fault, okay?”

You faltered, hesitating, and she could see that you still felt as if you should protest, your lips moving a little for a moment, as your eyes appeared thoughtful, but her voice had been firm, as well as soft enough, to deter you from doing so.

“Okay,” you answered, instead, and she would express relief, glad that she’d managed to get through to you, before you could panic anymore than you already had, a brief moment ago.

“Good,” she replied gently, her eyes growing a little warmer as she hesitantly returned her gaze to what was ahead of her, reminding herself of what you’d told her, before, about making sure you knew the environment around you, to prevent yourself from having an accident whilst riding outside of the compound the way you both were, right now, you still on Firenze, and she still on Sunrise, the two horses calmly prodding alongside each other as if they were unperturbed by what was currently going on above them both. “I’m sorry,” she began again, her voice barely audible, as if it were growing to be more of an effort to speak with every second that passed between you both, a heavy wall pressing down upon both of your chests and throats, making it harder all the more to not break down the way your emotions seemed to want you to, right now, riding alongside each other with small tears clouding each of your visions, “I - I really am, okay? I’m sorry that-..” She swallowed uncomfortably, her voice cracking as she did, but she couldn’t get rid of the lump forming within her throat. “That I left, like I did, a-after-..” She drew in a shaky breath, whilst you tried not to shake your head again, listening to her through partially ringing ears, your heart aching even more within your chest. “I should have stayed,” she stated, her voice a little firmer, and you could tell that she was angry at herself for not doing so, when you couldn’t blame her, at all; you just wanted her to be happy, and you felt as if you could never make her happy like that; the way you wished you could ever since you’d first met her, even when you didn’t know exactly what your feelings for her meant, at all, until this moment in time, “but that’s not the only thing I’m sorry for.” You appeared taken aback, evidently surprised by such a revelation; it only hurt even more to know that such things had been plaguing her just like they had you, just because of what had happened between you both yesterday. “I’m also sorry, b-because-..” She sighed, wishing this weren’t so hard; she had been hoping it would be easier, but she’d found that it had always been hard to find the right words around you, especially whenever you smiled at her like you did, every time your gaze fell upon her. “Fuck, why is this so hard?” She uttered, evidently flustered as well as frustrated, and you couldn’t help, but smile softly down at Firenze’s mane, finding it cute, how easily she could be flustered by some things, like she was, now. “Sorry,” she managed, as she winced, realising she’d said that out loud, only embarrassing as well as exasperating her further as she tried to start again for her sake, as much as your own, “l-look, I’m-.. I’m sorry, that I had nothing to say that night - I should’ve-.. I-..”

“Can we dismount, here? Really quick?” You requested, your voice close to a whisper, and she would fall quiet, her heart skipping a beat again as she looked over at you, her eyes widening a little as she subconsciously eased Sunrise into a standing position, and you would express relief, bringing Firenze to a stop beside her.

“Sure,” she answered curiously, “why?”

🜚

For a moment, all you could imagine flashed through your mind. You saw yourself pinning her gently against one of the trees to her right, your heart pounding alongside your own as you pressed your lips to hers, imagining yourself revelling in the feeling of her body against your own - a beautiful feeling. Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach; you tried not to look over at her too much, blood rushing to your cheeks; your urges were so vivid, so near, that you could almost reach out and grab them, but you didn’t want to lose her, so you kept your hands to yourself to the best of your ability.

Leaves crunched beneath both your, and her feet, as you trailed slowly side by side, leading your horses behind you as you admired the scenery around you, wondering if there were anything more perfect, than this moment you both found yourselves in.

“H-Hey, I, erm-”

“I missed you,” you began absent-mindedly, before wincing, your voice barely audible, blood rushing to your cheeks. Regina faltered, her expression softening as she glanced over at you, her eyes glinting just a little alongside your own; she’d missed you, too - all day today, whilst she was at school, as well as last night, even before she’d kissed you, and fled from your side again the way that she did, not too long ago, now. “A-All of last night, and-..” You fell quiet, and she would frown, before nodding gravely, and timidly linking her fingers with your own, prompting your heart to skip a beat, and you to falter in speech, mind, lung, and muscle, as you stopped beside her, and - as you were terrified of your feelings for her right now; of what they’d make you do - you hastily removed your hand from hers, stammering a little shakily; barely audibly, for a moment, whilst she appeared hurt by your decision as you stepped back a little from her side, avoiding eye contact with her to the best of your ability.

“Y/n-”

“I - I don’t think we should be friends, anymore,” you uttered, sounding a little exasperated, and strained, as if just sounding the words out was painful for you to do, whilst she, too, found it hard to hide that your words had struck her, leaving what felt like a burning hole within her chest.

“What?” She replied; she still couldn’t quite believe it, but you wouldn’t let it go, shaking your head as you stepped back again, before she could get any closer than she subconsciously had.

“I don’t-.. I’m not-” You struggled, your voice briefly trembling as you tried not to cry, an overwhelming lump within your throat again. “I can’t do this anymore; I don’t want this-”

“Y/n, stop-”

“I don’t want you,” you concluded weakly, though every word was far from the truth, burning your tongue excruciatingly as you wished you could just tear your heart out, and just give it to her right now, on more than just some silver platter, “I-”

“So that’s it?” Regina interrupted, a hurt look on her face, and you would falter, hesitantly glancing up at her whilst small tears leaked from the corners of your eyes.

“Reg-”

“You’re just gonna - what, throw us away? After everything?” She questioned, her voice firm, though you could still tell she was hurting, too, just like you were - you just wondered why. “Is this about the kiss, yesterday?” She inquired, the question throwing you off guard as you tensed up, before hastily lowering your gaze again as you bit down harshly upon your tongue, almost enough to draw blood as a faint metallic taste began to form grossly within your mouth, only to be worsened by her drawing slowly closer to you, a hopeful, as well as pained, and curious expression on her face.

“What? No, you-”

She didn’t hesitate, gently easing you against the tree behind you as she delicately pressed her lips to your own, and you relaxed within her embrace, your eyelids fluttering shut at the feeling.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” She mused, sounding a little breathless, her voice close to a whisper, and you would wince, not realising for a moment that the kiss had ended when it did, the realisation that it was over only making you feel empty inside all over again.

“Regina,” you began again feebly, a little nervous; you’d never been in a situation like this before, her eyes never leaving your own.

“I liked it, too,” she managed, though the words still felt foreign; dangerous, considering her previous ideals and personality, last year - it was unusual, but not in her own eyes, just in the eyes of the others, back at Northshore high, “t-that’s why I-”

“There you two are,” your Uncle interrupted, and you both would falter, tensing up as he and his horse, Willow, a Black Pinto Clydesdale, emerged into the clearing, their auras emitting the same calmness the pair shared, together, completely contradictory to your and Regina’s current demeanours, as you warily asked him the question you were first thinking of, your eyes doing all the talking they needed to do, for you. “Don’t worry - the session’s still going; Desdemona’s got it covered,” he explained, his voice gentle, just so you both knew he wasn’t angry, at all; he was more relieved, than he was anything else, glad to see that you two were at least still talking, after yesterday’s events.

You expressed relief, as well as dejection, forcing a smile, before you nodded gravely, and averted your gaze again.

“I-..” You began slowly, your voice briefly cracking as Cal warily looked between you both, his eyes looking as if they were trying to scan through the both of you; trying to determine the skip, drop, and squeeze of your heart beats, as if they were that easy to read, right now, just through the ways you were both standing; the way you were trying to form a sentence, only to fail miserably before the girl you loved, and the man you considered to be your only family, after all that had happened to you, all those years ago, with the divorce, as well as the kidnapping that had previously befallen you. “We-”

“I can give you both some more time, if you need it?” Cal suggested, his voice already knowing, but neither you or Regina dared to respond, finding you couldn’t even muster up the right words to say, each one stuck within your throats, but it wasn’t something new to him - not at all. “Do you?” He continued, and Regina made to nod, but before she could say anything, you were shaking your head, and uttering that you had stuff to do, before you walked hastily back to Firenze’s left side, and carefully climbed back up into his saddle, gone before she could even say goodbye to you, only making her heart ache even more within her chest, somehow. “She’ll come around,” he reassured her gently, and she would wince, realising she’d zoned out, a pained expression on your face, as soon as you had disappeared back into the woodland behind them both, “she just-.. needs some time, probably, to think about things.”

Regina frowned, before nodding gravely, and awkwardly shuffling on the spot as she tried to recompose herself, feeling pathetic for how she’d just acted around you, before.

“I know,” she corroborated, her voice soft, though it longed to crack like your’s had, the lump still stuck within her throat, and her face still warm, like it usually was when she was trying not to cry.

“Good,” he replied, evidently glad; he didn’t want her to think that you’d left, and would never talk to her again, now, regardless of what had just happened between you both; he knew you too well, to even fear that you’d completely leave her alone like that - even after the world had done you wrong the way it did, all those years ago, you still tried; you would never abandon those you loved, he only hoped that such a trait never left you, for both your sake, as much as her own.

🜚

On the ride back, neither of them said a word to each other - at least, not until they were about to leave the woodlands behind them, the academy’s arenas coming in to view just about beyond the tree-line, before it could be broken, and they would be out in the open again.

“I’m sorry,” Regina managed, her voice barely audible, and heart aching again as her eyes darkened; she hated how she’d left you the way she did, last night, when she feared you needed her the most, in the state that you had been, before she’d arrived, and - regardless of how right the previous moment had felt between you both - she still felt guilty for reacting the way she did; for pressing you against that tree, and kissing you again; it was something she never thought she was capable of allowing herself to do, before, considering she’d always tried to hide her own secret desires the way she had been, until she’d first met you, and began to see and think of you everywhere she seemed to go, away from here, “for - for last night - I shouldn’t have-.. y’know; I should have stayed with her, and I hate myself for leaving, I swear I do, I-”

“She understands why you did it, Ms. George,” Cal reassured her gently, but she didn’t want you to understand; she wanted you to hate her for what she did, though the thought of you hating her was painful, in itself, “and - in a way - so do I.”

Regina curiously looked over at him, though she didn’t mean it any disrespectful way; it was just a surprise to her as it wasn’t something she’d ever heard him talking about, before, despite her being around him and you for a while, now, almost proper family to you, in some ways - at least, she wished she could be that for you. Little did she know, that you did feel that strong of an attachment to her already, and it was almost unbearable when things became the way that they were, now, between you both, especially when you found yourself rejecting her, afraid of disappointing her, as well as of what Shane might do, considering she was still with him, currently; still arguing with him everyday, and trying to hide it from you, though you could see through her the pain and frustration it was putting her through, you just never thought part of that pain would be a manifestation of what was also going on between you both, too.

“You do?” She mused, almost sounding relieved, and Cal would nod gravely, before smiling faintly over at her.

“I do,” he repeated gently, “love, it does - curious, things to people.”

Regina faltered at his use of the word ‘love’, her heart skipping a beat, before she hastily looked away from him, trying to hide that she could feel her cheeks beginning to warm up in response to his phrasing; she’d never considered ‘love’ as being what her feelings for you, were, but - in a way - it felt like it made sense, and the word seemed more appealing to her, now, as a soft smile began to tug at the corners of her lips as she found herself unable to stop thinking about you, and what you might be doing right now, again.

“Love? What makes you think it’s-”

“Feelings, then,” Cal rephrased, and Regina would frown, before nodding slowly in response to his interjection - she already missed the previous word, but not as much as she missed being with you, the way she was earlier, “everyone’s had them - whether they’re love, or something less, they’re there - you might be scared of them, right now, but you won’t be for long, that much I can promise you, it’s just what they do to you, after-..” Your Uncle sighed, whilst Regina looked over at him, a concerned as well as curious expression on her face as he seemed to be trying to recompose himself, small tears clouding his own vision as he avoided her gaze strategically, desperate to try and keep himself together for you, as well as for her, but the thought of how his late husband had gone made his body weak, each day that passed by since his own passing - the cold of his bed’s left side would never go away, when he woke up in the morning. “I’m sorry, Ms. George, but I really must be checking on the session, now,” he stated, his voice a little more strained as he forced a smile over at her, “just - give it time, and you’ll see.” He then eased Willow into a trot beneath him, only making it a few paces away from her, before he halted his stallion again. “Oh, and by the way,” he continued, as Willow prodded slowly toward the end of the tree-line, “we were all young once, Ms. George, never forget that, will you?”

🜚

Cal’s words followed her everywhere after he’d gone, as she trotted Sunrise back toward the stable, being as careful as she possibly could, considering she was by herself, now, no-one to protect her if something went wrong, but she didn’t blame you for rushing off the way you did, after what had previously happened between you both. She knew Cal said she should wait, but it was painful trying to hide from her feelings, something silently pulling her toward the house as she sneakily rushed up the porch, looking around her warily, before she eased open the front door, and immediately headed for the stairwell.

🜸

You were inside your room, crying, at the time; you’d tried to hold it all back, but the emotions soon came flooding out of you, as soon as you were alone, curled up upon your bed the way that you were, now. You sniffled barely audibly against your pillow, hugging your knees to your chest as your shoulders shook a little with every strained and uncontrollable sob that escaped your lips - you didn’t doubt you would have been stuck like this for a while, if she didn’t stop outside your door, and knock on it gently the way that she did.

🜸

As soon as she reached the door, she faltered, a pained expression on her face as soon as she heard you crying behind it; it was unbearable. For a moment, she couldn’t lift her right arm to knock, instead allowing her palm to press against the door as she tried to work up the courage to do something, anything, and it then struck her that you were only a few paces away from her, prompting her heart to skip a beat, before she smiled softly, and managed to pull herself out of her brief trance, before she knocked upon the door, and you managed a feeble ‘come in’ in response to the sound.

🜸

Before she could open the door, you were hastily wiping your eyes, and forcing yourself to sit up. You evidently expected Cal to be stood on the other side, your heart dropping, and muscles tensing up as soon as your gaze had fallen upon her. She stared back at you, lingering anxiously by the door as she fidgeted a little with her fingers again, her heart pounding overwhelmingly alongside your own.

“Y/n-”

“W-What are you doing, in here?” You questioned, and she would frown, a hurt look on her face as she bowed her head for a moment, trying to find the right words to say.

“I-.. I don’t know, I just-.. I guess I just-..” She sighed, evidently frustrated again - even her cheeks were turning a little pink; you couldn’t help, but find it adorable, trying not to show that her current demeanour was making your skin buzz with elation. “I wanted to see you, okay?” She managed, eventually, sounding just as exasperated as she looked, right now. “I-..” She fell quiet, her heart sinking as her eyes darkened, prompting you to feel a little guilty as you bowed your head, fidgeting with your own shaky fingers alongside her, as she timidly drew closer, hoping you’d accept her presence, this time. “I’m sorry,” she began again, her voice briefly trembling; sounding dejected, only making you feel worse, but still you didn’t dare look up at her - everything about her was just too-.. tempting, and you couldn’t take the way you felt around her; your feelings were growing to be too intense; more than they ever had, before, “f-for earlier, I-.. I really-”

“It’s fine,” you reassured her gently, and she would express relief, her heart skipping a beat as her eyes began to glint a little again, “it-.. it was my fault, anyway.”

That took her aback, again; she hastily shook her head, not wanting you to blame yourself for what she’d done as she then stepped even closer, your heart pounding even faster somehow with every step she took, only a few away from your bed, now.

“I-”

“Reg,” you interjected gently, but your voice was still firm - it was a warning, and nothing less than that; you didn’t want to lose control of yourself around her, especially when she was so close to you, right now, only leaving you more afraid than ever of what you’d end up doing; of everything you were imagining yourself doing, even after what had happened between you both, earlier, within the clearing.

“I know,” she replied, her voice soft and strained, and your heart begged to surrender to her, but you didn’t want to make things worse for her like you feared you would, if ever she decided she wanted to be with you, instead of Shane, “look, maybe-.. maybe we don’t have to talk about it, right now, if you don’t want to? W-Would you let me just-.. stay with you, l-like I should have, last night?”

You would appear taken aback by her suggestion, your heart positively soaring in response to it; you couldn’t think of anything you’d ever wanted more, as you tried to win back control of a clear mind, only for it to get cloudy and loud again within it, as she sat down upon your bed, before smiling lovingly in your direction. This would no doubt be the hardest night of your life, as well as the best thing that had ever happened to you, so far.

🜚

You still couldn’t bear to look over at her, especially as soon as she came out of the bathroom in her pyjamas, your heart skipping a beat as you noticed her loose-hanging clothing, trying not to think of anything, but the sound of the horses’ galloping outside, evidently playing within their pasture as they neither occasionally, or snorted - it made you smile, to think of Firenze and Felicity playing out there, before their own bedtime could begin, alongside your and Regina’s.

“What did your mum say?” You asked, sounding a little nervous, and Regina would shrug, seeming unperturbed as she finished up brushing her teeth, before rejoining you on the edge of your bed again.

“She’s fine with it,” she answered, and you would raise your eyebrows; you could tell when she was lying, and - for a moment - she winced, before hastily averting her gaze down to her hands, “okay, I didn’t tell her, but-”

“Then what did you say?” You questioned, appearing a little more worried, now, whilst another part of you tried desperately not to smirk, your eyes glinting as she appeared confused by your demeanour, as well as a little relieved, tilting her head partially to the side as you surveyed her peacefully, trying not to get lost within her orbs, though they felt like oceans of calm, to you, your heart-beat not pounding as overwhelmingly as it usually did, whenever you were around her, as long as you were looking into her eyes the way that you were, right now.

“You don’t really care, do you?” She guessed, and you would fall quiet, wincing, as she grinned sheepishly over at you; knowingly, and for a moment she seemed to lean closer to you, and you would falter, your blood running cold, and heart beginning to pound against your rib-cage again as you drew back from her, and hastily looked away to try and tell yourself that you were just imagining it; she couldn’t still want to kiss you, why would she? Regina faltered, a pained expression on her face as she looked away from you, too, her eyes darkening; she didn’t know why your action had hurt so much, and nor did she know why she kept feeling as if she were magnified to you, even more so after the kiss had taken place between you both, yesterday, as well as a little earlier, today. She sighed, timidly fidgeting with her fingers as she tried to find the right words to say again, not wanting things to just be awkward between you both, now, the way that they were. “I’m sorry,” she offered gently, and you would tense up, only for a moment, as you glanced over at her again timidly, forgetting how to breathe as you admired her again - it just didn’t seem possible to not be able to do so, “I don’t know why I-.. my mom, I told her I was at another friend’s house - she probably won’t suspect a thing, in fact, I promise you she won’t - just-.. please, don’t worry about that - we have a night together to enjoy, right? Whatever bad that might happen can come later, but right now we’re happy here, aren’t we?”

You couldn’t help, but smile softly, blood rushing to your cheeks, even as you hesitated, your eyes glinting once they were locked with her own again.

“We’re happy,” you corroborated gently, and she would express relief, smiling warmly back at you as she wrapped her arms around your waist, prompting you to tense up again within her embrace for a moment, evidently not used to how it felt, still, to have her arms around you the way they were, now.

“Good,” she replied, glad, as you timidly returned the hug, now flustering her a little as she couldn’t help, but beam over at the wall, even as she’d forgot how to breathe, briefly, alongside you, only remembering how to do so once it was necessary for her to, alongside you, but she knew at some point the hug would have to be broken, regardless, prompting her heart to sink, before she shot a sad smile over at you, released you from her arms, and tried to find more words she could use again without choking: “so, what do you wanna do?”

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed the first part! ❤️

[that-dumbass-rabbit]

Tw vent

I just feel like I'm giving up and giving in.

I was taken out of class to the counselors and he told me people were worried about me. When I pressed for specifics he said "well teachers, students, *sigh* people" and didn't specify beyond that. After talking (deflecting) for 2hrs and telling like 3 people to reschedule their appts because he wasn't done with me, he basically told me I was spinning plates and lying to myself thinking I could handle it. He told me he couldn't make me do anything but it was clear I needed to give something up (there are rules saying counselors can't tell you not to take harder classes but he heavily implied I should level down in at least one). He ended up breaking down my walls with enough pressure and I said "ok fine mabey I'll level down" and decided precalc was on the chopping block, really English has been the problem class but I sit next to my best friends and I love the teacher, it's just a really really heavy workload for me.

But still I feel like I'm giving up. I've always been able to handle everything all on my own without breaking down in tears or having a panic attack. Nothing really changed dramatically, not friend issues, dance stuff, home stuff, school workload, it was all the same as last semester. Why is it different now. I've always been my friends lifelines when they were anywhere from stressed to suicidal. I've always had this many hours of dance per week. My home situation I'd say is mostly ideal. And like I said earlier, workloads in school is the same as last semester. Is there something wrong with me?

I'm supposed to be smart why can't I do any work all of a sudden? Or understand anything in school? None of it makes sense anymore. And I don't want to talk to my teachers because it scares me so much and I don't know why. I've never needed extra help before. I just feel like I'm weak. I'm not trying hard enough. I'm not good enough anymore. A husk of the person i used to be. I don't even know myself anymore. I'm struggling and I'm so so so scared to ask for help. Because I feel like it's reflecting onto me negatively. It's irrational and illogical but I feel like people will think bad of me for asking. I know it's normal to need help. I know I'm not weak. I know this is all stupid to say. But I'm supposed to be fine. Why do I feel so numb? The only times I feel anything is when I'm feeling fear, anxiety, sadness. There's small times where I'm a little happy but they're few and far between these past few weeks. I can't even smile at dance when I'm doing my dances. I can't even pretend or act like a happy person. I've forgotten that.

To be completely honest, I'd rather have a panic attack every day than admit how much support I need. When people say "are you ok" I almost flinch, like a record scratch, like full stop. It makes me want to throw up but once I start talking it's hard to stop and I end up spiraling. Either I say nothing and feel numb or I say everything and feel overwhelmed. I prefer numbness and spacing out.

[is-your-blorbo-neurodivergent]

does she have ptsd?

submit your own characters here to be featured!

reasons under the cut. involves major spoilers for the witcher franchise. tw for suicide, sexual assault/rape, kidnapping, abuse, incest; this one deals with heavy topics.

reason: her mother died when she was young and her father disappeared. her entire kingdom was razed, and the knight escorting her out of the kingdom was killed right in front of her after her grandmother, the queen, committed suicide to avoid being killed by nilfgaard (the kingdom attacking cintra). ciri was later on kidnapped by a gang, in which she was sexually assaulted, then forced into an abusive relationship that caused her to develop stockholm syndrome. her father attempted to marry her and i think you know where that's going.

even just partway through the aforementioned, she's clearly impaired often by intense anxieties, constant self doubt, and self esteem issues. she has a lot of mental breakdowns, and in the show she has a panic attack scene. it's heavily implied that she has ptsd but i'm yet to see an official confirmation of this

submitted by @angelellipsis-devilofdots

[aftgficrec]

hi! do you know a fic that talks about robin's addition to the monsters and her relationship with them? tysm for your recs 🙏

From Nora’s extra content (here and here), Robin Cross joins the foxes as a freshman post canon on Andrew’s recommendation, becoming a goalie and part of Andrew’s tight-knit monsters. She is generally headcanoned to be particularly close with Neil and Andrew.

If you’re interested in a deep dive into Robin’s traumatic past of being kidnapped and held captive as a child, check out the true crime podcast au ‘Red Rabbits: Season 2’ here (now complete; accompanying art by @bloodydamnit here and here). -A

Also see

‘The Cartographer and the World’ here

‘Black as is the Raven, He’ll Get a Partner’ here

‘Red-Breasted Fox’ here

‘when i'm falling (i'm at peace)’ here

‘Skin Comes Apart (Angel in Lothian)’ here

‘Watchful Eyes’ and ‘transience’ here

‘don't wanna be lonely (just wanna be yours)’ here

‘the memory of burning’ here

‘cheers to the dead mothers club’ here

‘Runaway Train’ here

‘All I'm sayin' is if you don't love me no more, then lie’ here

‘Sliding Doors’ here

‘Worth the Trouble’ here

‘the name of the game’ here 

Teaching a caged bird to fly series by Charcoalll [Rated T/M, Collection with 5 complete works, Updated Dec 2021]

Part 1: Sunrise over Home [M, 7870 Words] Robin Cross is regretting ever signing with the Foxes more and more every day. But when a disastrous day at court leads to emotions culminating, she has a much needed talk with her coach. Turns out her recrutation wasn't as random as she thought, but why would Andrew Minyard off all people have an interest in her? No matter what, it all ends on that cursed roof at midnight.

tw: violence, tw: negative self talk, tw: bullying, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced csa

Part 2: Guilt, Fault and Blame [T, 9093 Words] Robin begins driving with the monsters from practice and suddenly everything changes.

tw: anxiety, tw: recreational drug use, tw: alcohol, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced murder of a child

Part 3: Never felt Safer [T, 3465 Words] Robin finally earned Andrew's attention. Now she's standing in front of the biggest changes her life has seen, but as it seems it's only for the better.

tw: violence

Part 4: Secret Privacy [M, 15790 Words] 5 times Robin saw the emotions others seemed blind to, and 1 time it was painfully obvious. Or Andrew and Neil through Robin's eyes.

tw: alcohol, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: homophobia

Part 5: You've found your people, haven't you? [G, 5335 Words] Robin takes Neil and Andrew home to her parent's for Thanksgiving

tw: anxiety

Afterthoughts by wesawbears [Rated T, Collection, Complete, 2017] 

Chapter 37: Andrew and Wymack- Robin [488 Words]

Chapter 57: Robin- First Season [244 Words]

Soulmarks Bind Ravens And Foxes Alike series by sam_sational [Rated T/M, Collection with 2 complete works, Updated March 2023]

Part 1: Fate Is A Meddling Bitch [T, 39848 Words, Complete, 2023]  Neil doesn't swing, so he has no soulmark. Andrew doesn't touch people, so he doesn't have to worry about his aversion to the concept either. Unfortunately fate is a meddling bitch.

tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: heavily referenced self harm, tw: references to suicide, tw: flashbacks, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity

Part 2: Speak Up, Little Fox [M, 14071 Words, Complete, 2023] Five times Robin defended Andrew. One time Andrew spoke up.

tw: homophobia, tw: implied/referenced murder, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity, tw: anxiety, tw: negative self talk

Show me the places where the others gave you scars by wangxian_234 [Rated T, 3369 Words, Complete, 2021]

Andrew has a past just as fucked up as Robin's, but he seems happy with Neil. Robin has questions.  or: a slightly ooc discussion of how sex is effected by trauma

tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity

Grains by Preludeno3 [Rated G, 993 Words, Complete, 2022]

Don’t say stupid things” Andrew growls back. His arm crawls with the contact and proximity, he’ll have move soon or he’ll have his own meltdown on his hands. “It gets better”

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

pick up all the pieces (and what’s left of my pride) by poika [Rated T, 4637 Words, Complete, 2020]

robin cross is interesting. and andrew doesn’t think that often. an exploration into andrew and robin's relationship, featuring andrew's scathing running commentary, emotional growth and making a friend along the way

tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

my one, my dear by Mercey [Rated T, 18478 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2023]

Five years after graduating from Palmetto State University, Kevin's pro team decides to sign freshly-graduated Robin Cross. According to their friends it simply makes sense for the two ex-foxes to move in together, and while Kevin's intensity and Robin's unflappable nature pair well initially, what will happen when their darker things come to light?

tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity, tw: implied/referenced alcoholism, tw: implied/referenced murder

Neil Fights the Foxes by This_Witch_Writes [Rated T, 24142 Words, Complete, 2022]

Times that Neil got into fights and arguments on Andrew's behalf.

tw: homophobia, tw: transphobia, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: mania, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: violence, tw: blood, tw: car accident

Stay With Me by Lostintheuniverseslies [Rated E, 21072 Words, Incomplete, Updated April 2023]

Part 3 of Healing, find part 1 here

They spent the first year after everything healing. Now they have to learn how to navigate being away from each other while Andrew is off playing in the pros and Neil is still at Palmetto finishing his fifth year. Things aren't easy. They never seem to be for them but they're fighters. And they always come out on top.

tw: explicit sexual content, tw: homophobia, tw: negative body image

From Dungeons by JuiceGremlin [Rated E, 8561 Words, Incomplete, Updated May 2022]

“I haven’t played Exy in years.”

“Brush up. Prove to me that you can be trusted. Miss Malcom will fill The Butcher’s position until a decision can be made about you.”

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: murder, tw: blood/gore, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: gun violence, tw: implied/referenced animal abuse, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced kidnapping, tw: implied/referenced captivity

didn’t know I was lonely (‘til I saw your face) by outofbookshelves [Rated M, 6671 Words, Complete, 2022]

Neil hadn’t expected Andrew’s first year in the pros to be easy. But he’d be fine for the next few months, until he saw Andrew again on Thanksgiving. He turned out to be wrong, though – it wasn’t fine. 5 times Neil missed Andrew (and didn't realize it) and 1 time he didn't have to anymore.

tw: graphic nightmares, tw: implied/referenced torture

Five Years to the Day by emmy (emmy7) [Rated T, 5045 Words, Complete, 2021]

Neil's final game as a Fox with some big feelings, sappy thoughts, and a whole lot of hugging.

it's rotten work (not to me; not if it's you) by Awesomenessatrandom [Rated G, 8868 Words, Complete, 2021]

Part 1 of when is a monster not a monster? (when you love it)

three times Neil couldn't take care of himself and one where Andrew lets himself get taken care of It begins the summer directly after King's Men and progresses chronologically.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: violence, tw: anxiety

thumbs up by tropicalblend [Rated G, 5268 Words, Complete, 2021]

Robin's on her period and her cramps are tearing apart her insides. She thinks she can push through practice and knock out in her dorm, but her body said, no lets black out during practice. Kevin, Andrew, and Neil try to help in little ways.

tw: menstruation

All We Ever Knew by OrdinaryVegan [Rated G, 1317 Words, Complete, 2017]

Robin comes to Neil for life advice, and he is surprisingly helpful.

A Quick Stop Before Breakfast by AnniGrace [Rated G, 1163 Words, Complete, 2017]

Blah blah blah Nora says they never get married but...

Some Tumblr Bits

…then you remember baby Robin Cross exists meta by @jostenjorts [Tumblr, 2022]

Neil and Robin on the cover of vogue; a spiel by @chronic-optimistt [Tumblr, 2022]

Robin is Andrew and Niel adopted daughter for me this is a fact hc and  Niel teaching Robin / Niel teaching any of the other foxes fandom fun post by @chacha462 [Tumblr, 2021]

Robin Cross headcanons by @yolkylemon [Tumblr, 2021]

Art

Her fist day at the locker room after her Eden’s Twilight trip comic by @crows-and-crumbs

my new Robin Cross obsession comic by @two-wizards-in-a-trench-coat

When Robin meets Renee and Allison, agents of chaos, and ur hand in marriage pls ma’am art by @yolkylemon

I’ve never smoked before and neil and robin are besties art by @poikas

Robin Cross art by @redskiesandsailboats

Robin brain rot hours and More Robin Cross hours art by rei_ko__ on instagram; also here, @rei-ka-ko

Lil Robin Cross moment art by @truthforatruth

✝️Robin Cross✝️ art by drewthesapphic on instagram, also here on twitter

meet Robin, Foxes’ goalkeeper by shtormlen on instagram

[redparatroopaofbowerskingdom]

↕ - a memory that may or may not have happened

[CW/TW / / Heavily implied anxiety/panic attack]

A paratroopa seems to be walking from a very loud, overstimulating situation, completely silent. As she gets further away from all the noise, she sighs. "Okay calm down, calm down it's fine, it's not much." It is apparent to anyone that she is lying to herself, but she takes a deep breath, as a Goomba passes by, snickering. It is relatively quiet, seeming to be, but she covers her ears. ". . .Maybe I should just, go home or something." She walked further away from the scene and sat down, closing her eyes for just a second. When she opened them, everything was suddenly, calm, no one was there? Had she passed out? Hallucinated it? Did she fall asleep and it was just a bad dream?

Y'know what, it didn't matter, it was dark, so maybe she should just go home and just, not tell anyone about it.

[afoolforatook]

Alrighty, here’s some (late) Fair Game Valentine’s fluff for everybody!

Every Part of Ourselves

A Fair Game Valentine’s day fic by Farley M. (afoolforatook.tumblr.com) 

Will post it on AO3 when I have the whole thing ready. 

--------------------------------------------------

Trigger Warnings / Tags - Past character death, loss of partner, Not direct mention of anxiety / panic attacks but heavily implied,  / hurt/comfort, Fair Game, Hummingbird, Qrow is Ruby’s dad.

(Probably more but can’t think of them and want to get this posted. Let me know if there’s something big I missed and should add)

Probably the lightest on angst of any of this series really just at the beginning for set up. But the rest is just pure fluff. 

Also, still plan to put up some art based on this, but haven’t had time to finish it and didn’t want to wait for that to post the fic.

---------------------------

Author’s note: This is really a chapter of a much longer fic, but I wanted to get it posted for Valentine’s (even though I’m a bit late). So there are some things, especially at the beginning that need background, but you should be able to understand everything without it. Also, there are a few aspects here and there that I’m not sure I’m happy will and that might change when I post this as the actual chapter (specifically the stuff about Ironwood, haven’t really figured out how I want to handle him in this yet, but felt like it was necessary to mention him contextually.) 

A little bit of needed background though is that, in this story Qrow and Summer were together and he is Ruby’s biological father. Not getting into all the debate of that actual theory, but this whole thing is basically a big therapy fic that requires Qrow and Summer to have been a couple. Also, I like to think that (even though it doesn’t necessarily fit in canon) Qrow’s cross necklace was either a gift from Summer, or in memory of her.

Episode 12 was a nightmare of Qrow’s that Clover helped him deal with. 

-------------------------------------------------

Clover had left Qrow’s room a few hours earlier. Once he’d gotten back to his room he’d started pacing, his mind racing. 

It had been a few weeks since that first kiss and they’d continued their nightly check-ins, now with a bit of a different atmosphere. They were still casual, and usually relatively short, unless one of them had had a particularly hard day. But they were a little looser with each other, falling into a comfortable routine, not flinching nervously when the other leaned against them. And there had been more kisses. Even a few that had seemed like they might lead to something more. 

That was when they’d admitted they needed to talk about how they were going to handle this aspect of their relationship. They both agreed that there were still a lot of things they needed to talk about before taking any big steps. Clover knew he had his own issues that he still had to tell Qrow about.  He knew Qrow wouldn’t let him shrug it off forever, wouldn’t let him continue to pretend he was fine. 

Qrow was especially sensitive to thinking he was being pitied, or that people were holding themselves back because they thought they had no place to be hurting, when his wounds were so much ‘bigger’. And Clover was pretty good most of the time about not falling into that kind of  thinking, but Qrow had a tendency to worry that that was why Clover held back. It was complicated and hard for Clover to watch.  He knew that Qrow hated being the one who ‘won’ the trauma lottery, who always had to choose his words carefully, not telling most people the full story, partially because that wasn’t who he was, but also because he knew as soon as his tragic backstory was known, the atmosphere would change. Clover knew that Qrow hated being reminded how sad his story was by well-meaning people who thought they should tell him their pain was nothing in comparison. 

But Clover also knew that, while his own problems weren’t less important than Qrow’s, there was a lot more to them that directly affected any decision they made about their relationship moving forward. 

So a few nights after the first kiss, Qrow had told him all about his past. And most importantly he’d told him all about Summer. About loving her, and about losing her. Then they just talked about him. About how everything had affected him. About all his fears, insecurities, anger, bitterness, worries, and longing surrounding relationships after Summer. He explained why, sometimes, telling Clover he loved him was the easiest thing in the world, and sometimes, it was a spiral of panic waiting to happen. How sometimes his own desire to be close to Clover was enough to scare him so much that it was actually painful to do so. How he worried, putting aside his own fears about losing someone again, about how his pain would affect Clover. How he worried that Clover would feel like a replacement. That he’d resent Summer, or Qrow’s inability to move on from her. 

Qrow had been as confident, strong, and unwavering as Clover had ever seen him, when he told Clover how that would never happen. How no matter what happened with them, he would never be ‘over’ Summer, and how he never wanted to be, and that he would never apologize for that.  But he still wilted some then as he explained how, as proud as he was of that certainty, he hated the idea of it hurting Clover. He worried that Clover would get tired of Qrow’s sudden, often unpredictable, tears surrounding any kind of intimacy. That he’d mistake Qrow’s sadness as him wishing he were with her rather than Clover. And how Qrow couldn’t tell him that that would never be at least somewhat true. But mostly it was about him feeling guilty for making Clover be in a relationship that would always have a ghost attached. 

And Clover had listened, he had absorbed, and had been honest with Qrow like he’d promised. He’d told him that, yes, some of that was hard to hear, or worried him. That he couldn’t guarantee he’d never have some insecurity, at least at first, but that he wanted to work through it. He assured Qrow that he understood, and trusted him enough to work through that together. 

A few weeks passed after that talk, and the nightly check-ins continued. Though they still hadn’t moved beyond some urgent, deep kisses, they were good with that. Both of them liked just letting themselves get used to this, without the pressure of what came next. 

And then, a little over a week ago, Clover realized something during a briefing, as he really looked at the calendar on his scroll for the first time in a while. He’d been letting the days blur together a little, enjoying the routine of things. He knew of course what month it was, but it hadn’t really registered until then what that meant. So by the time he noticed, there was barely a week left until Valentine’s day. 

He’d gotten through the day, and luckily his visit in Qrow’s room had been short, Qrow being exhausted from a supply run with the kids. After he’d left, Clover’s head had been spinning, trying to figure out what to do about the impending minefield of a holiday. They had talked about what this was between them, and decided that they were comfortable calling it a relationship. Even agreeing that, while not telling people quite yet, they could be a little less careful around each other in public. But Clover had no idea where they’d stand with this part of being in a relationship. He wasn’t even sure he could bring himself to talk about it with Qrow, unless the older man brought it up first. Would it presumptive of him to expect they do anything? Was it diminutive to expect they wouldn’t? He was way too in his head about it and had flipped back and forth on whether or not to broach the topic over and over again. 

That had continued for the next week, with Clover waking up every morning, barely feeling rested, and his mind a little off during meetings and routine runs. He knew Qrow had noticed, and had tried to get him to talk. But Clover had promised him that he just needed some rest, and that he was just overthinking little things and wearing himself out, but nothing was wrong. Their nightly visits were now usually short and quiet, the two of them just sitting beside each other on Qrow’s bed until Qrow insisted Clover go to sleep. 

And now. Now it was the night before and they’d still never talked about it. He was sure that Qrow hadn’t even acknowledged a calendar enough lately to realize what was coming up. 

That evening, before dinner, Clover had panicked, and rushed to a small flower shop in Mantle, determined to buy a small bouquet of red roses… before realizing that that was probably a bad idea. As were white roses…. Roses just seemed out of the question all together, actually… But could he really risk being completely empty-handed, on the off chance that Qrow did expect something?  For a split second he actually considered just getting a bouquet of clovers. And then he wanted to sink into the pavement at how fucking pretentious that would come across, not to mention it being likely impossible to find. He had been standing outside the shop long enough by then that the owner had come out to ask if he needed anything. Clover shook his head and hoped he gave a convincing smile as he turned to leave. As he was walking home, his hand went instinctively to his rabbit’s foot. That was when it occurred to him. 

He’d been antsy during dinner and forced himself to play it cool while he sat in Qrow’s room. Finally he’d hugged Qrow goodnight and headed back to his own room, thoughts running through his head so quickly he couldn’t even focus on what they were individually before another one replaced it. 

He’d gotten the gift prepared before he’d gone to see Qrow, and now he just held it in his hands, thinking. He wasn’t going back on the decision, he knew it was what he wanted to do. But he was still worried, and that was what had him up most of the night, overthinking. He knew he’d promised Qrow that when he got in thought spirals like this he’d text him or come over, let him know, like just like Qrow had promised him. But this was different. He couldn’t just drop this on Qrow, that’s exactly why he was so worked up over it in the first place. Finally he couldn’t look at the gift anymore and opened his bedside table drawer, carefully placing it inside and closing the drawer again. 

After that he’d sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, for who knows how long. He didn’t move again until he heard a knock on his door. He glanced at his scroll, groaning quietly. He’d left Qrow’s around midnight. It was 6:30. He hadn’t gotten even a minute of sleep. How was he supposed to handle today with no sleep, already tired from the awful sleep he’d had all week? 

Certain that the person at the door was Marrow, or one of the other Ops, he ignored it, flopping onto his stomach and sighing. He hoped they’d think he was still asleep and give up, despite everyone knowing that Clover never slept past 6. Sure enough, after a moment another knock came. Right as Clover was resigning himself to having to get up and tell them that he was feeling sick, he heard a voice, just loud enough to reach him without yelling. 

“Clover?... Cloves? Let me in… please?...... I know you’re awake, Lucky Charm! I could hear you overthinking all the way down the hall.”

There was a slight, almost nervous chuckle. And Clover sat up, heart racing. Shit. He thought he’d have some time to prepare before seeing Qrow that morning. Time to get his shit together. But apparently not. 

He cleared his throat, jumping up and fumbling to put his uniform on before rushing to the door. He’d only managed to slip his tunic on, and still hadn’t buttoned it up completely, when he opened the door, coming face to face with Qrow. 

Qrow, who…. who was wearing a suit?… or at least the closest thing to a suit Clover had ever seen Qrow in. His cape was gone. There was a tie pulled loose around his neck and a slanted cross necklace, that Clover thought he remembered seeing him wearing when he’d first gotten to Atlas, was nestled carefully on top of the knot. His low neck shirt and vest had been changed out for a long sleeve black button up (the sleeves shockingly not bunched at Qrow’s elbows but buttoned at his wrists with cufflinks that matched his necklace), and a deep red waistcoat with black accents. His pants and boots were the same as always, and his bracelets and rings remained. But his hair was combed, and while still slightly messy, it was obviously more meticulously quaffed than Qrow usually had the patience for.  Clover also noted that he didn’t have Harbinger with him. He knew that Qrow had struggled carrying Harbinger around for a few days after the night that Clover had found him, but they had talked about it and Qrow had seemed to move past it, not hesitating to pick his weapon up around Clover for weeks now. So why…. 

Clover was pulled out of his wandering thoughts by a stifled laugh. His eyes focused on Qrow’s face now, seeing the man nearly lose his balance as he held his left hand to his mouth, trying to stay quiet. Finally he straightened and smiled warmly at Clover, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“I have a feeling that that might not be exactly regulation there, Cloves. How ‘bout you let me in while you finish getting dressed?” 

Clover looked down and realized, with growing embarrassment, how utterly disheveled he looked.  His tunic was not only not fully buttoned. It was lopsided and misbuttoned. And it was the only part of his uniform he’d managed to pull on; still wearing his sweatpants, and no socks. Ironically, it was his hair that was ruffled, rather than Qrow’s, from a night of messing with it in frustration. 

Qrow saw him floundering and smiled kindly, placing his hand on Clover’s shoulder. He gently turned him around and led them into the room, the door closing behind them. Qrow hit the light by the door and watched as Clover walked to his bed. Clover was frantically looking for his pants, that he’d managed to fling somewhere in his haste. And Qrow noticed that the bed was made, something he was sure Clover hadn’t just done that morning. 

“Clover? Did you sleep at all last night?” He turned, putting something that he’d been holding in his right hand down in the chair by the coffee table near the door, and walked over to Clover. 

Clover hadn’t even noticed Qrow holding something before, and now the shorter man was blocking his view of whatever it had been.  And then he remembered what he himself had been holding all night. He hastily checked his bedside drawer to see it was still there, before shutting  the drawer again, right as Qrow reached him. Qrow raised an eyebrow at the quick movement but let it go, instead leaning to pick up Clover’s pants from the end of the bed. He laid them by Clover, who had gone back to his spot on the edge of his bed. Qrow then crouched in front of Clover, gently putting his hand on the younger huntsman’s knee. 

“You alright there, Lucky Charm?” He reached up and brushed a stray hair out of Clover’s face, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, obviously a little concerned. 

Clover stammered for just a moment before his voice finally worked. 

“N-no. I mean…. Yeah… yeah I’m fine, just….. Couldn’t sleep…. Like you said, overthinkin….”

He trailed off, realizing just how tired he really was after a week of restless sleep and now a night of none at all.

Qrow frowned slightly, pushing his hands up off his own knees and standing, huffing slightly. He moved towards Clover, reaching down gently and unbuttoning his distorted tunic. 

“Why didn’t you let me know? I could’ve come over and calmed you down, or just kept you company.” His voice was soft, kind, more worried than hurt. 

“I…. It wasn’t like that… I just…. Had some stuff to think about that I didn’t want to bother yo-” 

He paused, seeing Qrow about to object to the idea that he would be a bother. 

“No.  I just mean, it was just some stuff I needed to figure out myself.” Clover smiled, his head slowly clearing. He tilted his chin to look up at the ceiling, now focusing on trying not to think about how dumb he looked opening the door. 

He looked down when he noticed that Qrow had finished unbuttoning his tunic, and was having to bite his lip to keep from laughing. Clover saw why; he was still wearing the tank top he’d slept… or not slept, in; an old, ratty, bright green thing with a cartoon four leaf clover on it and a cheesy phrase about feeling lucky, that his sister had given him years before as a birthday present. He only ever wore it before going to see Qrow, knowing it would always receive an adorable chuckle and snarky quip. But it definitely didn’t belong under his uniform. He paled at the idea of Ironwood seeing him in it. Or worse...Marrow, or any of the kids. They would all find way too much enjoyment in it, and their teasing wouldn’t be nearly as endearing as Qrow’s.  He laughed weakly.

“Whoops…. Guess I was still kinda in my head...” 

Qrow rolled his eyes, fumbling with the collar of Clover’s tunic, and smiling at the contrast of it, now significantly wrinkled, over the ridiculous shirt. They stayed like that for a moment, awkwardly, Clover still in his undone tunic and sweats with Qrow standing in front of him, both unsure of what to do next. Finally Clover spoke. 

“So… why’d you… I mean… did you need… I mean... “ 

He sighed, dragging his hand over his face, feeling a few day’s worth of stubble pull against his skin. He’d been too tired to wake up early enough to shave the past couple of days. He shook his head and looked at Qrow, up and down, before smiling goofily. 

“I mean.. You look… nice. Great! You look….” He paused, pretending to adjust Qrow’s tie, leaning forward slightly and grinning.

“Didn’t think I’d ever be lucky enough to see you in a tie.” 

Qrow just scoffed and pushed Clover’s face away from him affectionately, turning and sitting beside him. 

“Thanks. Guess we’re both seeing a different side of each other this morning.” He teased, brushing his thumb over Clover’s stubble. Clover didn’t miss the tiny shiver in Qrow’s hand at the rough texture. 

“I was beginning to think you just magically woke up clean shaven every day.” 

“Dang it! I’ve ruined my mystique!” He smirked, squinting at Qrow jokingly. 

Qrow chuckled and leaned against Clover’s shoulder, so much easier than he would have done so just a few weeks before, and took his hand, interlocking their fingers. 

“Yeah… where will your magnetic charm come from now that that grand illusion is broken? I’ll have to find some other thing to find attractive about you… that’ll be such a struggle, I’m sure.” He looked up at Clover, nudging his shoulder playfully, and winked.

 Clover pretended he didn’t feel his face turn bright red at that, and he recovered from the wink, so much quicker than he would have just a few weeks before, smirking back at the older man. 

“Well, just imagine being in my position! You all put together like this?” He gestured dramatically to Qrow. 

“What am I gonna do without that unkempt broodiness to lure me in?” 

Qrow actually stuck his tongue out at him, his eyes and nose scrunching up.  Clover had to actively steady himself on the bed so as not to fall back on the bed and bury his face in his hands, like a smitten school girl, at how damn cute that was. 

They sat like that for a minute, not at all awkward, just comfortable. Qrow’s leg knocking against Clover’s playfully every so often. Clover was the first to speak again.

 “Really though… Not that I’m not a fan of the new look.  Cause, trust me…. I am.  But… what’s the occasion?” He hoped he sounded convincingly oblivious. 

“For someone who actually has a great poker face when he wants to, you’re painfully  transparent when you’re tired, Lucky Charm. There’s no way you haven’t looked at a calendar in the last few weeks.” 

Qrow smiled and puffed up his chest a bit, like he was preparing himself for something, before jumping up and retrieving the item he’d placed in the chair earlier. 

Clover’s jaw dropped as Qrow, who suddenly was looking a little sheepish behind his puffed up facade, held a bouquet out towards him.

“I… I know we never talked about it or anything… And I know you probably were trying to give me space because you thought this might be something kind of hard for…” His eyes flickered to the bouquet and then back to Clover. 

“And maybe I should have brought it up myself so that you didn’t… ya’know… stay up the entire night before, worrying about it…”  He rolled his eyes lovingly at Clover’s surprised look. 

“I told you, Cloves. Could hear it coming down the hall…. But anyway… I just thought. I don’t know... I was worried that if I turned it into some big talk, we’d both just get all in our heads about it and it would feel like some…. Like something we’d have to manage… and I…” He sighed, finally taking another breath and slowing down. 

“I don’t want you to think that we’ll always have to just manage stuff like that… I wanted you to know that I…” He stepped closer to Clover, placing the flowers in his lap and leaning to press his lips to his forehead gently. 

“That I don’t just have to ‘deal’ with my feelings for you…. That I enjoy them... I enjoy you. Us. That I… that I want...I’m excited to celebrate this.” 

Clover’s face was burning hot, his eyes wide, mouth hanging open, as he stared down at the flowers in his hands. It wasn’t from a shop like the one he’d tried to go to the day before. It was a bundle of wildflowers, surrounded by strands of ivy, all held together with what Clover was realizing was a small strip of Qrow’s cape. But the thing that held his gaze was the flower in the exact center.  

He realized Qrow had been talking for a minute, scratching the back of his head shyly.

“ -tried a flower shop in Mantle, but they were talking about ‘flower language’ stuff and I had absolutely no idea what to do there-” He took a breath. 

“Or what you’d like... so I just decided to do it myself…. Then I couldn’t exactly find any clovers…. And I happened to find some ivy, so I went with that... .… but I wanted there to actually be something nice, ya’know...so I went back and got the….Cause…” Another breath, finally.

“I just thought maybe…. I don’t know… It might have been a bad idea and weird….maybe I should’ve just stuck with…..”

Clover’s vision blurred with tears as he stared at the single white rose tucked into the wildflowers and ivy, his breath catching in his throat.

Qrow had paused, pinching the bridge of his nose, starting to step back, obviously trying to force himself to speak slower, to just slow down. 

“I just thought…. I wanted to show you that… you know… that you… that you’re not a consolation pr-”

“Q-qrow, I….”

“Shit…. This was too much, right? Right. I shouldn’t have… And especially when we hadn’t even talked about… I’m sorry just…I got carried away... Just prete-.” 

Clover cradled the flowers carefully as he stood and gently pushed past Qrow, who stammered as he turned and watched Clover walk to a small closet.

“C-clo-..? I.. I mean… I know we didn’t talk so… and of course I didn’t expect you to have anythin….I just… Clover… Just… just forget it, okay?  It… It was a...”

Clover didn’t speak as he grabbed an old vase from behind a stack of towels.  Someone had given it to him as a congratulations on getting the Ace Ops position, he’d never really seen the point of it before. He went into the bathroom and filled it with water, before slipping the flowers in, making sure the strip of cloth was secure and high enough to not get wet. Then he came back out and sat it on the table by the door, before walking back to Qrow, who was glassy eyed and biting his cheek nervously, keeping himself from talking.

Clover didn’t care about his unbuttoned tunic, or his dumb shirt, or his sweatpants, or his messy hair, or the bags under his eyes, or his scruffy stubble. He didn’t care about any of that as he pulled Qrow to him, one hand around his waist and the other at the nape of his neck. 

The only thing he could think about was how absolutely astounding this man was. How he was kind, and thoughtful, and patient, and protective, and brave, and dependable. How incomprehensible it was that anyone could see him as cold or callous or unrefined. How he’d do anything to keep this beautiful, strong, resilient, loving man from experiencing anymore pain in his life. How he knew that that was impossible, that he would watch the man before him suffer more than he could ever fully understand, hoped with everything in him that he would never understand, and that he wouldn’t be able to stop it. How, despite that, he wanted to be there anyway. Always. How he never wanted Qrow Branwen to have to deal with his pain alone ever again.

That was all Clover could think about as he pressed his lips to Qrow’s, feeling the shorter man stiffen slightly and then sink into him, one hand clutching the edge of his tunic and the other gripping Clover’s hip to steady himself in the sudden embrace. After a moment Clover pulled away, staring at Qrow. Who was looking back up at him, eyes slightly unfocused, cheeks flushed and lips ever so slightly swollen.  

“Thank you, Qrow.”

Qrow just stared, mouth still slightly parted. 

“You have absolutely no clue how utterly amazing you are, do you?” He asked quietly, not expecting an answer. 

“I-” 

“You are… You... Shit… Qrow…. you... “ Clover pressed another soft kiss to his lips, smiling as he spoke without pulling away. 

“I am so thoroughly in love you, you beautiful, stubborn, old bird.” 

Qrow chuckled weakly, tears in the corner of his eyes. 

“Clover…. I….”

Clover pulled away gently, holding Qrow in place for a moment before letting go and turning to reach over and open his bedside drawer, picking something up and holding it tightly in his fist,  before standing in front of Qrow again. He took Qrow’s hand in his free one and pressed a kiss to it before placing his closed fist in it, pushing Qrow’s fingers to curl up over his knuckles, and then placing his open palm on top.

 “I’ve been second guessing myself for weeks. About whether to bring it up or wait for you to. If it would be too forward to assume we’d do something, or rude to assume we wouldn’t. Not knowing what you’d want...what you’d need… If you were ready for something like this… Or if it would bring up old memories… and whether that’d be good or if you’d feel bad for…If you’d think you had to protect me from knowing how much you’d be thinking of her…” He paused, now having to make himself pace his words, wishing that his open palm would stop visibly shaking like that. 

“I don’t know.. I…. I thought a lot about it. About the right way… if there was a right way… about what I felt and what I wanted. And what you felt and wanted….and… and what I’d do if those didn’t match up…. And…. I thought about everything I don’t know.  All the stuff I’ll never know because you can’t possibly tell me everything that I know you feel about her… or… or about me….” He felt his knees starting to lock and pulled Qrow down with him so that they could sit back on the bed, without letting go of his hand. He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet Qrow’s eyes and not look away.

“...I thought about her.. About Summer. About how much I wish I’d gotten to meet her…. To tha- to thank her...To show her how important you are to me… how important ….. How important she is to me.” He wouldn’t look away. This was too important. 

“How much I understand that I don’t get you, without also getting her. And how I wouldn’t want it any other way…. I love every part of you, Qrow. With every part of myself. And she is part of you. She is why you are the man I fell in love with. How-” He chuckled and let himself smile, his free hand, now steady, reaching to wipe a tear from Qrow’s cheek. 

“How can I not love her?” He glanced down as he saw Qrow’s free hand move, worried that this was too much, that he was pushing him too far, too fast. But Qrow’s hand had just curled around the hem of Clover’s tank top, his thumb running over the fabric slowly. 

“ I- I didn’t… I didn’t know whether you were ready to hear that…. Or how to even say it…And then last night, before dinner, I went down to that...Ha… I guess that same flower shop. I  was going to get you some big bouquet... but nothing seemed right. I didn’t know if roses would be respectful or…. I didn’t know if you’d want me to try to make her a part of…..” He stroked Qrow’s cheek, laughing at himself a little.  

“I stood outside that place for waaaaay too long… trying to figure out what to do… but nothing felt right, so I left... And then, walking home, I realized.” 

He took his hand from Qrow’s cheek and looked down as he placed it under Qrow’s hand, still curled around his fist. His thumb ran over Qrow’s knuckles as he took a moment to close his eyes and breathe, before looking back up at Qrow and smiling. 

“She’s a part of you. She always will be. And trying to symbolize that, or me trying to quantify that somehow… didn’t feel right…. But… but showing you that… That I want to be a part of you, alongside her… and that both of you are part of me, now…. That I want the parts of you that are her just as much as the parts that aren’t… and that I know those aren’t identifiable like that.… showing you that… that felt right.  Immediately… and… well, this was the only thing that made sense… the only thing I could think of that could mean that for me… that could show you how certain I am that this… that you, are what I want.”

Clover glanced down as he opened his fist and pressed the green and silver pin into Qrow’s palm, before looking back up at him, his own tears forming now. They fell as he saw the realization wash over Qrow. 

Qrow scrambled to push the pin back into Clover’s hand, fumbling, pushing himself up onto his knees urgently, nearly losing his balance. And for a split second Clover saw in Qrow’s eyes that fear that had overcome him that first night, the panic that by loving Clover he was putting him in danger.

“Cl-clover I can’t take…. This is… You need this!” 

Clover cupped Qrow’s hand around the pin, pulling Qrow towards him by the waist, and catching their hands between their chests as he pressed his cheek to Qrow’s ear, nestling his chin in the crook of his neck. 

“As long as it’s with you, I’ll have it. It’s part of me. It’s my reminder of what’s important to me, what I want to protect. And you’re what’s most important to me, now. I don’t need something to remind me of that... So you keep it. You make it a part of you, right beside those parts of Summer.” Clover’s eyes flickered to the necklace over Qrow’s tie. 

“... and I’ll know it’s where it belongs… I’m where I belong.” 

Qrow snorts in a half sob, half laugh, his free hand threading through Clover’s hair.  His voice was steady but heavy with barely controlled emotion.

“You know, Cloves...Every time I think I’ve seen how sappy you can get, you surprise me…” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Clover’s temple. 

“Th-thank you, Clover…..Thank you for…. For….for saying… for her…. For understan-...” 

And finally he broke, burying his face in Clover’s neck, quietly weeping. Clover guided him down, off his knees, further on the bed. He pulled his legs up beside him, allowing himself to support Qrow’s weight as he gently rubbed his back, humming quietly. He knew how feeling the vibration in his chest helped soothe Qrow. He didn’t speak, aware that any of what he wanted to say right then would just feed the tears. They were good tears though. They were relief, safety, acceptance, hope. Qrow needed this. 

When Qrow seemed to have quieted fully, Clover gently nudged him, pulling back slightly to look down at him. 

“Hey, Birdy. What do you need?” 

Qrow nuzzled his head back into Clover’s neck, smiling,  and the warmth of his breath sent chills down Clover’s spine. 

“Just this.” His voice was quiet, scratchy after crying, but happy.

Clover hummed in acknowledgement and moved them so that he could lean back against the headboard with Qrow still pressed to his chest. Clover closed his eyes, remembering how tired he was all at once. He started to drift a little before forcing himself to speak, mumbling.

“We should… mmm.. get breakfast… I know you didn’t really eat dinner last night.  You…hmm.. You must be hungry…And people’ll start wonderi-” He yawned, pressing his cheek into Qrow’s hair. “ Where we are...” 

Qrow’s voice was muffled against his neck. 

“ Let ‘em. Too comfy….”

Clover chuckled and they were quiet for a few minutes. Clover was just about asleep when Qrow spoke, turning his head so Clover could hear him clearly. 

“Ya’know… I had planned on coming by to pick you up earlier and take you out somewhere…”

“Yeah? Where?” Clover asked, his eyes closed, wrapping his arms tighter around Qrow’s waist and rubbing his stubbly cheek against the, once again messy, black hair.

“Hadn’t decided. Wanted to let you choose what you wanted to do for our …. Our first real date, I guess.” 

Clover was glad Qrow couldn’t see the immediate flush that brought to his cheeks.

 “Oh… well… umm…” He tried and failed to stifle his yawn. 

“Or we could leave that for another time and stay here all day… You could take a nap and I’ll get food and just tell people that… that my boyfriend and I are…. taking the holiday off….” He smirked to himself, waiting for a reaction.

“Yeah…. Yeah that soun-....” Clover started to mumble, pressing down into the mattress for a moment before registering what Qrow had said. 

“Wait… really? Like… like everyone? What about General-”

“I can deal with Jimmy… he’s actually not as awful as I act like he is… We… I can talk to him.” 

Clover reluctantly let Qrow pull away, the warmth of his bed pulling him in. Qrow maneuvered the taller man, sliding the tunic from his shoulders and pulling the comforter up over him.

“I’ll go get food and… very quickly let people know we’re out of commission for the rest of the day…. Pretty sure that might end up resulting in some bet payouts but….” He grinned as Clover laughed groggily at that. 

“You just rest… and the only thing you need to be thinking about is what you want to do after your nap.”

He pressed a kiss to Clover’s temple and turned to leave. But a hand shot out and caught his wrist before he could get off the bed. Clover was sitting up slightly, eyes focusing on Qrow with what Qrow could tell was a good bit of effort. 

“Qrow… I uh…. Hmm... I know what… mmm” He frowned as he yawned again.

“Save it for later, Cloves, you can barely hold your head up.”

“N-no… I want… I wanna make sure it’s okay…” He grinned and let go of Qrow’s wrist, patting his cheek lightly, in a way that was at first jokingly patronizing, but quickly turning into a gentle caress. 

“But… you gotta promise me two things, ok?”

“And what’s that?”

“Gotta promise to tell the truth… and to...mmm… not to cry.” He smiled, trying to keep the moment light. 

Qrow raised an eyebrow.

“O..okay?”

“No, I mean it.” Clover tried to change to a glare but his eyes just kept wanting to close. 

“Ughhh. I mean it, no water works. It...it’s happy… It’d make me happy….” He paused and watched Qrow, his face a little steadier, serious. 

“But… you have to be honest. If you don’t want… if it’s not a good time…I won’t be ups-”

 “I promise, Clover.”

Clover smiled and laid back down, mumbling. 

“....Want you to tell me… tell me more about Summer….” He laughed to himself smiling. 

“I like how happy you look when you talk ‘bout her…” He paused and cracked an eye open to see that Qrow turned away from him, a hand to his mouth, and obviously trying to keep his shoulders steady. 

Clover clumsily threw a hand up, laughing and mumbling happily. 

“Ha! I knew it! You’re sappy too, Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding!” 

Qrow spun around to face him and for a split second Clover worried that he’d crossed a line, that he was about to get yelled at. But Qrow was smiling as tears streaked down his cheeks. 

“That’s because you don’t fucking play fair, Ebi!” He leaned forward quickly, pressing one hand over Clover’s eyes as he kissed him. It was quick, strong, and playfully annoyed. 

“Now shut your eyes and get some fucking rest. I’ll go get food and be back in a bit…” 

Clover thought maybe he wasn’t comfortable with it and just didn’t want to tell him no right then. 

“Qrow… It’s.. it’s okay..” 

Qrow’s hand was still over his eyes, so he didn’t see the eye roll as the older huntsman hopped off the bed. 

“Eyes closed! Sleep! Stop thinking and just sleep….” 

And Clover just barely caught  him mumble to himself 

“How do I keep managing to fall for goofy brats?” 

Clover grinned as he buried his face in his pillow. He didn’t see Qrow pin the charm to his vest, his thumb glancing over it and the cross over his tie in one motion. 

Qrow paused and smiled as he stood at the door, turning back to look at Clover, who was already digging himself deeper under the covers. “I’ll think of some good stories that I haven’t told you yet.”

[whump-mania]

Welcome Home

TW: abuse, kidnapping, stalking, HEAVILY IMPLIED R*PE/NONCON (please stay away if under 18), blood, implied gun use, panic attack, nonconsensual touching, implied bone breaking, cursing

inspired in part by @whump-me-all-night-long (i love your stuff btw!)

Marcus looked up from his book at the sound of the door knocking. He stared at the door for a while, irritated. He knew exactly who was at the door, what he was going to say, and what he wanted.

He should have expected this sooner, to be honest. Chloe had gotten out of her so-called “prison”, as she liked to call his house, many months ago. Marcus had broken a deal with a very powerful person, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a bit worried.

A lot of money was on the line with keeping his sister and the police station quiet. Their town was small, and Marcus had quite a bit of power when it came to his job, but surprisingly enough, his little sister was the bigger problem to deal with. Marcus hadn’t expected her to be smart enough to find her phone and learn his schedule, so when she did, he expected an angry phone call from his high school friend.

The call came eventually, but Aaron wasn’t angry. He was amused, and strangely cheerful, telling him about how Chloe “came to the rescue” and only got herself and her twin brother into even more trouble. Marcus’s only concern was the money, and his worries were relieved when Aaron said he’d still get to keep his bribe as long as the police stayed quiet.

But Marcus knew they’d get out eventually. It was two against one, and no matter how strong Aaron was, he knew how inseparable his younger siblings were. They were a good team, as much as he’d like to deny it. Ben was a wimp, but he was clever and could get into someone’s head. On the other hand, Chloe was pretty dense when it came to understanding other people (besides her twin), but she could definitely beat someone up. They were bound to escape eventually.

That’s why Marcus knew who was at the door. They got out, and Aaron was here to take his money back. Or kill him. Damn it.

Another knock at the door snapped the man out of his trance. He sighed deeply and approached the door, opening it to find his old friend, smiling at him. No surprise there. “Hello, Marcus.”

“They got out, didn’t they?” Marcus sighed. “I told you it’d happen.” He stepped aside to let Aaron in. Marcus noticed a slight limp in his walking. The blond moved his hair out of his face and took a seat on his couch. He nodded.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Aaron gestured to his leg. “Benny decided it would be cute to shoot me in the leg after his little bitch sister tackled me to the ground.” He chuckled. “Such spitfires, those two.”

Marcus didn’t laugh, rolling his eyes and moving to sit on the coffee table. “So they’re gone then, right? No idea where they could be?” He crossed his arms. “And I assume you want your money back.”

Aaron’s grin grew as he leaned over to lie down on his side, resting his head on his hand. “Not exactly. True, I have no idea where my little toys ran off to. But I think you can help me find out.” He sat up again. “So here’s how this is gonna work. I can take all the money away, leaving you with basically nothing from your shitty paying job.” He leaned in closer. “Or, I can double your pay if you can get your little cop team to help me find them.” Aaron leaned back on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. “What’s it gonna be, Marc?”

Marcus’s eyes widened. Double the money would be insane, but so would be getting his team to help him find Ben and Chloe while keeping it all under the table. With that much money, though, he could do a whole lot of bribing...

“...Okay, I’ll do it. Just get out of my house, you creep.”

~

Ben was smiling as he got ready in the bathroom. He had a date with his boyfriend for their 6 month anniversary, and he wanted to impress him. He knew Ethan would go all out, so he at least wanted to look good for him too. Chloe was in the living room when her brother came out of the bathroom and gathered his things. Chloe looked up and smiled when she saw him.

“Damn, you look great! Ethan’s not even gonna recognize you,” she joked. Ben laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Ha ha. I’ll be back at around nine, I’ll let you know if anything changes.” Chloe nodded, they said their goodbyes, and Ben made his way to Ethan’s house to pick him up.

The night was everything Ben could ask for. Ethan looked great as ever, melted when he saw how he made himself up, and they had a nice dinner. It was calm, and romantic, and stress free. It was perfect.

They ended up waiting a bit longer for their food than they thought, so Ben decided to call his sister and let her know he’d be a bit late to get home. His good mood faltered a bit when she didn’t answer. She always answered her phone, and when she didn't...

“Something wrong?” Ethan was looking worriedly at Ben, holding his hand across the table. Ben nodded.

“Y-Yeah, Chloe just isn’t answering her phone. I hope she’s okay...” Ben squeezed Ethan’s hand, not noticing he was shaking slightly. Ethan squeezed back gently.

“I’m sure she’s okay. If you wanna go back home we always can.” Ethan looked into his eyes reassuringly. “She’d call if something was wrong, right?”

Ben nodded, wanting to believe him. He stared at his phone the entire time they waited for the check to arrive, still getting no call back. He called twice more before they left, with no response. A pit grew in his stomach. Something was definitely wrong.

The drive home was silent and miserable as Ben’s anxiety grew. Ethan’s hand was on Ben’s leg the whole time, trying to soothe him, and if he wasn’t so clouded by fear, it would have helped.

Ben shakily opened the door with his keys and stepped inside, Ethan following close behind. Chloe wasn’t on the couch. “Chloe? I’m home, did you get my calls?” He yelled out. He listened carefully.

His heart stopped as he heard muffled yelling from upstairs.

Oh no. Oh god, no.

Ben scrambled up the stairs with Ethan behind him, filled to the brim with fear. “Chloe?!” He called again, barging into the room where he heard the muffled voice.

Ben gasped and clapped his hand over his mouth. His sister was tied to her own bed, gagged, and covered in bruises.

“Holy shit, Chloe! What happened?!” Ethan exclaimed and ran to her, trying to untie her. She screamed and desperately shook her head. Ben was frozen in shock. He thought everything was okay, and now he was back to the terrible place he worked so hard to escape from.

Ethan managed to remove the gag from Chloe’s mouth, avoiding the bruises on her face. She gasped for air. “Ethan, you need to grab Ben and get the fuck out of here NOW.” Ethan had never seen Chloe afraid before.

“I can’t just leave you here! Who even did this to you?!” Ethan demanded, trying to untie her. Chloe shook her head.

“Please, Ethan, you need to go. Please just leave me here, I’m not what he wants, this is a trap, just please RUN!” She yelled back. Ethan ignored her and persistently tried to free her.

Ben didn’t know what to do. He wanted to help but he couldn’t hear anything, or see anything, or talk, or breathe, or move. He was so out of it that he didn't notice the door closing behind him. He didn’t notice Ethan turning around and yelling at him to move. He didn’t even notice the arm wrapping around him, or the hot breath against his neck.

“Welcome home, Benny.”

The nickname brought him back to his senses and he was suddenly screaming, trying to rip himself away from the monster he wished was dead. He was sobbing as he was brought back to his own personal hell that he thought he had escaped forever. But the grip on his waist was too strong, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Get away from him!” Ethan shouted, rushing at the taller man. Aaron smirked and used his free hand to punch Ethan in the nose, sending him to the ground.

“So you’re the boyfriend, huh? Damn, Benny, you really need to get higher standards,” Aaron said loudly over Ben’s screaming. He looked over to Chloe. “What? Not gonna talk back this time? Finally scared of me, babe?” He laughed as Chloe remained silent and glared straight through Aaron’s soul.

Aaron decided he was tired of Ben’s constant struggling and grabbed something out of his pocket. He dragged him to the wooden chair that sat next to Chloe’s bed and pushed him down into it, using handcuffs to lock him in. He also grabbed the gag from the floor and secured it back in Chloe’s mouth before returning his attention to Ben.

“You look so pretty in chains, baby,” Aaron murmured, leaning over him. Ben shrunk under his former captor’s gaze, tears flowing freely from his eyes. Aaron grinned and drew his fist back, landing a punch right onto Ben’s left eye. Ben cried out in pain and squeezed his eye shut, whining when it was too painful to open it again. “Now you look even prettier.” Aaron stroked his hair.

He then stepped away from Ben for a moment to look at the beautiful mess he created. His prized possession finally back where he belonged in front of him, his “savior” looking off to the side with guilt and tears in her eyes, and Benny’s new little boyfriend bleeding on the ground and moaning in pain. Everything was perfect.

Aaron went to the closet to retrieve something. “You must be confused, Benny. Let me explain some things to you, because I’m so nice.” He smiled when he found what he was looking for: the baseball bat he used to...calm Chloe down when he arrived.

“Your brother’s been a real good friend,” Aaron explained, pacing around the room. “He helped me find you. He’ll do pretty much anything for money, it’s kind of funny how desperate for cash that man can be.” He laughed. “Anyway, he did some investigating and found out that Chloe’s little girlfriend was involved.” Chloe tensed. “He interrogated her, but she wasn’t much help. Clearly. So we took matters into our own hands, dug a little deeper, and bribed the jet pilot that brought your asses here.”

Ethan groaned and tried to get up, but a kick to the stomach kept him down. Ben struggled when he saw his boyfriend get hurt, but he was too weak to do anything about it. All he could do was keep listening to the demon in front of him, looking all the more threatening with that bat on his shoulder. Aaron continued.

“It was pretty easy to find you from there. Used the girlfriend’s phone to track yours, and I watched you for a week or two. Heard all about the anniversary.” Aaron frowned at the last part but collected himself. “So that’s how I knew Chloe here would be nice and alone...” He approached Chloe and sat on the bed next to her, running his hand through her hair and ignoring her trying to pull away. “...so we could have some fun before you got here.” Chloe looked sick.

Ben was trying to process everything he was hearing. He thought everything was going to be okay when they escaped, that no one would be able to track them...boy, was he wrong. The “fun” comment snapped him out of his trance for a moment and he looked up fearfully at Aaron.

“Wh...What do you mean by...”

Chloe’s eyes stared blankly to the side as tears threatened to fall. Aaron only smiled and narrowed his eyes at Ben. “I think you can put the pieces together, Benny.” Just to add kindling to the flames, he reached over to Chloe’s chest and grabbed. Chloe whimpered and Ben’s eyes widened.

“Stop! D-Don’t touch her like that, please!” Ben cried, struggling again. He was mortified, and disgusted with himself. He let this happen. 

“It’s a bit too late for that, Benny.” Aaron loved how his little pet recoiled at the nickname. “But you can still stop it from happening again...I’d hate for you to have to watch me hurt your new little fucktoy, too.” 

Ben tried to calm his breathing as he looked up at Aaron. “...What do I have to do?” He believed he already knew the answer.

Aaron grinned and stood up to approach Ben once again, baseball bat still dragging behind him. He grabbed Ben’s chin with his hand. “Come back to me,” he whispered, a low rumble in his voice. “And I won’t lay another finger on them.”

Ben sobbed and hung his head. He couldn’t believe this. He had to go back to his prison, his worst fear, his hell. All of the work he put into his recovery would be destroyed, and it was already faltering at that moment. But he had to protect his loved ones, or it would be worse torture for him than anything Aaron could ever do to him.

Ben nodded. Aaron smiled.

“Perfect,” Aaron purred, standing up and brandishing the bat. “Now, before we get started, I think you need to learn a little lesson.” He raised the bat and relished in the horror in Ben’s eyes as he aimed at his kneecap.

“It’s not very nice to shoot people in the leg.”

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

the asch recordings

by darkwhitepebble

The kid stares at him imploringly, then ducks his head down, reaching up with an arm to swipe across his eyes, sniffling messily. He taps twice with his foot on the floor of the train, trying to wipe away more tears. Wilbur reaches across, puts his arm around Tommy’s shoulders and pulls him to his side. Tommy tenses for a minute, freezes before slumping full bodied into Wilbur, resting his head on his shoulder, shivering minutely. “Tommy,” Wilbur says softly, leaning into him more. “What’s wrong?” “Wilbur,” Tommy sniffs. “You’re too good for this.” “Oh, Tommy,” Wilbur whispers, shoulders pushed down by the weight of everything they never said. “So are you.” - WILBUR: You don’t have to. When it’s time, you will. You’ll know, Tommy, don’t you worry about it. Tommy turns to look up at Wilbur. TOMMY: Know what? WILBUR: When it’s time to stop. - There's a little black train a-comin' Comin' down the track You gotta ride that little black train, But it ain't a gonna bring you back

Words: 3064, Chapters: 2/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Video Blogging RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death

Characters: Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit

Additional Tags: Crimeboys - Freeform, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Extreme TWs PLEASE READ, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, suicide is a major theme of this one, Please be safe, Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, i believe in happy, sometimes, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Trains, heavily inspired by over the garden wall soundtrack, Platonic Cuddling, Foreshadowing, Lots of it, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, Depression, Childhood Trauma, like all good characters, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, it sounds very dark, but it looks up, you will get your happy ending i stg, Wilbur Soot Loves TommyInnit, TommyInnit Loves Wilbur Soot, brothers<3, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit-centric, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, if you can't tell by all of this my mental health is going in the wrong direction, watch the pebbles train crash in real time

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/36577144

[smalltragedy]

* herman tommeraas, cis man + he/him | you know donovan mercer, right? they’re twenty one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, four months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to ice boy by corbin like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 15th, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

yes hi i did bring ducky back. i promised. please love him jst the same im sry he had 2 go fr a while. 

ABUSE, VIOLENCE, DRUG ABUSE, EYE INJURY, GANG MENTIONS TW.

mini playlist.

father ;; the front bottoms / ice boy ;; corbin / lose yourself ;; eminem / my own worst enemy ;; lit / say it ain’t so ;; weezer / maps ;; yeah yeah yeahs / star stopping ;; lil peep / benz truck ;; lil peep / trauma ;; nf / northern downpour ;; panic! at the disco / your graduation ;; modern baseball.

statistics.

full name: donovan mercer.

nickname(s): ducky.

birthday: march 15th, 1999.

zodiac: pisces sun, aquarius moon, aquarius ascending.

label: the despondent.

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york.

sexuality: bisexual (bt not out).

pinterest.

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

implied abuse tw // their father was not kind, or merciful - and ducky was a runt compared to mercy, small and sensitive and kinder than his brother. weak, and filled with softness, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice - but it didn’t. and it never did.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed. implied abuse end of tw

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

abuse mention // but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be. end of abuse mention

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. he never graduated high school.

abuse mention // anxiety mention // anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

heavy abuse tw // violence tw // it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly.

eye injury // corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse.

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

the mercer brothers have been floating around the north carolina scene for ~5ish years now, trailing after their father who is consistently chasing after their mother with no luck. they’re currently residing in palm motel. can we get a hell yeah?

personality & facts.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be on him harder. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures at the community college, occasionally, or physics, or whatever peeks the small curiosity inside of him.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs and leaves the rest for mercy. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

drug abuse // has a. complicated relationship with benzos n xanax n a various assortment of painkillers. ironic bc he hates drugs due to. his chosen career n wldnt do most of what they sell, bt yknow. this ws inevitable. hates beer bt forces himself 2 drink it bc toxic masculinity probably man idk.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

violence mention // purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted plots.

u look good tonight ... ;; wld love a connection in which he is feeling emotionally compromised n maybe kinda hs a thing w someone bt hes like. very unreliable n kinda ghosting bc he is very afraid n it wld b maybe bad fr them to b anything other than hook ups. cld apply to smth very intensive or smth very surface lvl i’ll take thousands.

palms sweaty ... moms spaghetti ... ;; ppl tht ducky just hs fkn brawled. cld b anybody fr any reason. ducky prob lost n he prob lost on purpose bt also ur muse cld maybe kick ducky’s ass? cld b a fake fight cld b a real fight. cld b a npc fight n then ur muse cn patch up ducky? possibilities endless. maybe they hv a nice spaghetti dinner n both of them r both bruised up frm their fight. sometimes fights end in spaghetti dinners. thanks eminnem or whatever.

own worse enemy... ;; ducky needs friends bt hes bad at making friends n sometimes he fks shit up by pushing ppl away n self sabotaging n being a major cunt n sometimes he just ghosts bt hes always very remorseful abt it? this cld b a very like. up n down friendship of any type its just. where do they stand. r they friends. r they enemies. r they lovers? probably not lovers. prob just platonic. but still its the thought tht counts.

and also ;; literally just like. anything. clients who buy off of him n like. casual friends n casual enemies n casual hookups. ppl hes ghosted. ppl hes embarrassed himself in front of. maybe ur muse tries to get ducky to socialize or maybe ducky is like. u are too much fr me. n ur muse runs off crying. endless possibilities all u hv to do is call this number now.

[creaturecosmo]

TW: GUNS, VIOLENCE

CONTEXT: so this is from a mafia AU created by Cal in a haikyuu discord server we’re in. it’s copied word for word from my messages a few weeks ago, so apologies for chaotic grammar and such; it had kinda possessed me and i had to write it immediately at like 1 in the morning (´∀｀；)

HI I'D LIKE TO EXPLAIN WHY IN MAFIA AU IT MAKES PERFECT SENSE THAT KAGEYAMA WOULD BE MOST SUITABLE TO WORK PRIMARILY WITH GUNS IN COMBAT AND THE OTHERS WOULD HAVE TO WORK 100x HARDER TO GET ANYWHERE NEAR THE SAME CONSISTENT LEVEL IN COMBAT

ALSO THIS IS COMING FROM SOMEONE WITH A COMBAT VET FATHER AND SOMEONE WHO SHOOTS RECREATIONALLY AND IS BASIC-TRAINED FOR SELF DEFENSE IN IT

OKAY SO

I work with 12 round clips for a handgun and 6 rounds for my revolver. I can shoot 2 different kinds ammo efficiently and one kind for the time span of one clip with little accuracy because of my own issues. So, I'm basing everything on what Kageyama would likely use in combat from that personal working knowledge, knowledge on other kinds of ammo, gun builds, etc, and how he canonically operates as a person and on the court

(can u tell this is gonna be a novel yet?)

Let's walk through why all of them could shoot just fine recreationally or very occasional combat shall we?

To shoot recreationally, you have time to think, aim, prepare for kickback and sound, re-aim (in some cases like Tsukki and Hinata) and then shoot. All of this in a safe environment with no threat present

The big points there are safe environment and time

As for very occasionally in combat, they would have to work off of pure adrenaline and their recreational experience.

Hinata is likely to miss because there's too much danger on too many sides and he's not one to look behind himself before attacking. He focuses straight ahead. this is a problem when it comes to an enemy/ally causing a collision/unexpected interruption and Hinata isn't ready to fire at his target yet without risk to others. 

He could only use it in the combat scenario of a one on one with the element of surprise in his favor

Yamaguchi is known for his anxiety. He's also known for slight impulsivity (following Tsukki despite the guy basically insulting both the bullies and yams, and also being known for being a dick even that young; snapping at Tsukki multiple times in scenarios that's it not appropriate for despite it's effectiveness, and it's clear at the Fukurodani camp he hadn't meant to be so abrupt). He's the type to misfire out of panic, and also not practice proper procedure because he wasn't raised/didn't practice enough specific procedure to have it drilled in that you don't have your finger touching the trigger until you're ready to shoot. He's also the type to miss from shaking, and get hurt by the kick. 

He can only use a .22 caliber revolver in a situation he's prepared to use it in with weeks of consistent advanced practice.

(revolvers only have 6 rounds, for those who don't know! so less chances if he messes up!)

Tsukishima has the opposite problem of Yamaguchi. He's anxious and insecure in his abilities, leading him to get stuck in his head. Which is NOT SOMETHING YOU WANT. He's the type to not want unnecessary casualty of avoidable because he believes it reflects on his performance overall. He would also want to get the perfect shot the first try, and go over every single thing he's doing in the moment with his body in an attempt to do so. This distractedness leads to being an easy target for a quick draw or someone to come up behind. He's also not going to like the bang (he canonically complains about team volume several times, and is seen wearing his headphones after a few of those moments which implies it bothers him enough to block it out entirely), so he'll be too busy bracing for it to actually make sure he's re-aimed when he inevitably drifted from the target. 

He can only use a .22 caliber handgun in a spur of the moment situation where he is not given the ability to think through his behavior and is forced to shoot on sight, with the help of muscle memory built from rec practice and contests against the others.

Now, what makes Kageyama so perfect? Isn't he considered impulsive and over-analytical like the others?

Well, yes and no.

And here's why

Kageyama's behavior during a game vs. practice/every day life are similar, but fundamentally different when looking at it for this situation.

Kags in a game isn't going to be stuck in his head constantly focusing on everyone and everything like Tsukishima is, and he isn't going to be doubting himself the way Tsukishima and Yamaguchi do when put in the spotlight. And he doesn't have to heavily rely on anyone to begin his process, unlike like the attackers, like Hinata. He's the one setting up the attack; he's the one majorly accountable for the end product of the set+attack. And it's been that way forever as far as we've seen. And as a setter, he has to take note of everyone and everything around him to make an informed decision in seconds while still knowing and being able to rely on the others to uphold their part and back him up if necessary. 

Kageyama is used to being the center of attention for his capabilities, and is confident and assured in them; all while still being mindful of how he independently operates compared and in tandem to those around him.

So why does this make him perfect in a specific combat way in a little more clear detail?

When you're in a fight involving guns, those with guns are going to be the center of attention, 9/10 times. No matter how many people are holding a gun in any given situation, Kageyama will always be a piece of center attention. And he's prepared to do so from years of conditioning through his own history pre-Karasuno (likely growing up, instilling a sense of instincts and natural prowess from being taught so young the rules to guns, the operations, when and when not to draw it, etc.). As well being used as a very key combat piece in missions; he's going to be the main one of the 4 to go out on close combat missions (not necessarily hand to hand, any kind of close range is up for grabs) and still in top 3-5 for sniper/long distance missions beneath Noya. He doesn't need the time to think anymore like Tsukishima has a habit of doing. He doesn't need to second guess because he's been taught from day one that, that is what will you get killed. Hesitation in gun combat is lethal, always and forever. He doesn't need to rush because he's able to adapt (with some personal work on team building skills) and he doesn't have that panic when he's been doing this kind of thing for so long. 

Kageyama was born and raised with lessons on this stuff, and he was immersed in recreational and self defense training since he was basically a toddler. With time and some effort, those skills have naturally evolved in his favor, and can flourish and bloom with the proper exercise and new skill-building.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Cynthia Hammond (an OC, reimagined) X Fem!Reader Angsty, Cute, and Fluffy Prompt [Full Version]

• New idea for this character as previously introduced - will be progressed further later on;

• Cynthia’s face-claim is Reneé Rapp;

• There will be more!

!TW(s): Features of a dystopian atmosphere, references to criminal activity + possible near death experiences + near death experience(s) in general, hints of jealousy, smoking, implied suffering from depression + anxiety + separation anxiety + elements of self-loathing, implied system of societal homophobia in place + forbidden love; its trials and tribulations, implied discrimination in regard to wealth/social classes, description of perversions, violence, threat(s), injury detail, presence of weaponry, rape-y + rakish behaviour, swearing, depiction of murder(s) + capital punishment, blood, depiction(s) of assault + sexual harassment, having to have stitches done, implied sexual occurrence(s) + mild depiction of them + sexual references, theft, mention of self-harm, series of sexual ‘cheating’, insult(s), series of break-ups, presence of drugs; substance abuse + being spiked, mention of having nightmares, nudity, mention of drugs + alcohol, depiction of panic attack(s) + falling unconscious - if I’ve missed any, please feel free to let me know; thank you!

Just a Minor Misdemeanour/Fools Rule

On the edge of town, there wasn’t space for peaceful coexistence. There, there was no space for what might be casually known as a ‘fun’ life; a fun moment - the fun here was mainly centred around doing things that could get you killed, if they were done wrong. These very things exist in many different variants. There was stealing, not just because you may be starving; there was murder, whether or not you’d been wronged by the victim, or victims. There was prostitution, too - it got more dangerous to be in such a profession the further down town you might go.

But where you were, things couldn’t be more heavy. More painful - you weren’t sure why, without delving into each law set in place for the area, before it started going uphill and into the richer neighbourhoods. You normally hated them; the townsfolk, up there, drinking and eating whenever they wanted to. You sighed, staring at the wall ahead of you; you still don’t know how you’d ended up getting involved with one of them.

Cynthia - well, she liked to be called ‘Cynthy’ by you, a lot of the time - had been living up there her whole life; that didn’t mean she liked it, either. She’d come by the less fortunate and ‘clean’ side of town by accident, forgetting to take the right turn she needed to do so to get back home, leading her effectively onto a wild goose chase she’d never forget. You hesitantly turned to face her, serenely watching her sleeping peacefully beside you, before you ran your left hand over your face, and pressed yourself up off of the ground to get yourself dressed back up again.

You stretched, thinking about maybe waking her up, considering it was probably supposed to be a school day, or whatever they called it. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, subconsciously smirking in her direction as you leaned heavily against the wall behind you, lighting yourself a cigarette as you did. As soon as she began to really feel the cold, especially now that you weren’t laid beside her, she frowned, before yawning, and looking sleepily toward the leaning and dark frame of her - well, partner?

She couldn’t be sure; you’d never necessarily agreed to anything like that, much to her dismay. She tried to hide that the thought had flustered her a little, prompting her to wince, before she made to try and hide behind a soft smile, somehow.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you remarked gently, and she appeared taken aback by your voice, her heart skipping a beat as she watched you smile back at her, before you flicked your cigarette down onto the ground, and stamped it out painfully slowly before her.

“Morning,” she managed timidly in response to you, “hey, you - you’re not leaving, are you?”

You tensed up, a pained expression on your face though you’d tried to hold it back. She faltered, her smile fading a little as you looked away from her, trying to hide that it was hurting you, too, to have to part from her again this early in the day.

“I’m sorry-”

“You promised,” she spat, slow and deliberate, and you faltered, nodding gravely, as she got up off of the blanket you’d managed to steal for you both not too long ago, now, “when are you going to actually..” She sighed heavily, before shaking her head; you just wanted the pain to stop, now, but you knew it probably never would, now that you’d met her and found yourself shamefully enamoured with her. “Nevermind, it - it’s fine; I know it is, I just-..” She frowned again, rubbing her left arm as she tried not to let herself break down in front of you, knowing it would probably drive you away from her, somehow. Clearly, she didn’t yet know the lengths you wished you could go to, for her, if only it weren’t forbidden by the state around you both. “I’ll see you around, okay?” She concluded gently, her voice briefly trembling as she pushed herself to walk away from you.

It had never been so hard, before, to stop yourself from being able to act on your urges, like you had to with her, that day. You just wished you knew how much it would hurt, before you had to see her trying to put more and more distance between you both more than she ever had, before.

🜚🜸🜚

The next day, she didn’t bother to come back. You spent much of your time pacing back and forth within the alleyway you often slept within, a pained expression on your face. You knew you should have tried to stop her, before, but you were scared, and didn’t know what else to do. You grunted, wishing she didn’t make you feel so weak inside. You ran your right hand over your face, before you walked toward the back wall, and jumped up to grab onto the ledge that hung above it, allowing you to pull yourself over, before you ran for the broken down border between the wealthier layers of the town.

🜚

You could say you regretted your choices instantly, but that would be too easy. You found yourself lingering behind the building she tended to be educated within, your heart pounding as you waited patiently for her to come out - some already had, it being that time, and all. They all got to go back to their cosy little homesteads. You sighed, trying to ignore the twinge of jealousy that flowered within the deepest depths of your chest.

It was only when you saw her, that the feeling instantly dissolved, as if it were never there in the first place. You couldn’t help, but smile softly, until you noticed the boy trailing beside her. Your heart dropped, and you couldn’t stop yourself as you followed along the left side of the building, trying to keep up with them without being seen as you raced beneath the tree line that came up a few paces after the building wall had come to an end to your right.

You really had to strain your ears, to hear their conversation. You only wished you didn’t, when it was too late not to.

“So, you said you wanted to talk to me - huh?” Cynthia began, and her voice made you feel warm and fuzzy; you still wished it didn’t have that effect on you, sometimes, no matter how perfect it was.

“Yeah,” he began timidly, running a hand through his hair as he surveyed her keenly, only making your blood boil even more in regards to how confident he seemed to be, around her, “I, er - I’ve been thinking about it for a little while, I guess. And when I did, I always came to the same conclusion. I like you, Cynthia.” She tensed up, but you hardly noticed, your right hand balling into a fist as you stared ahead of you, trying to fight back the lump forming within your throat, right now. “I think I have for a while, now,” he added, “and, y’know, if you ever wanna come round my house sometime we can maybe-”

“Sure, whatever,” she interjected, hardly able to bear the rest of whatever he might have intended to request of her, “but, hey - can-.. can you maybe hold this for a minute?”

He would appear confused, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked down at her hand for a moment, before allowing his gaze to return to her own. And, no, you didn’t miss how he’d tried to hide that his eyes had briefly lingered upon her chest for a bit longer than you’d ever care for it to.

“That’s your hand?” He answered, sounding perplexed for a moment, before he realised, and smiled sheepishly over at her, but before he could take it, she used her other hand to slap him across the face.

You couldn’t help it, as you smiled over at her again subconsciously; everything about her was just - amazing, in every way, shape, and form. She was nothing like the other girls you’d met, so far. You didn’t think there could be anyone else quite like her - in your eyes, at least.

“Do you think I’m stupid, or something? I heard what you did to that other girl, buddy, and I’m not letting you do it to me, too, so you better count your blessings, before I make you regret ever moving here, alright?” She spat, and he would roll his eyes, a dark look crossing his face, but he knew he couldn’t take action against her in public as he scoffed, before walking away as he uttered a barely audible ‘bitch’ under his breath.

You wouldn’t let him get away with it - not when you knew he was a possible threat to her safety. You’d never been more thankful, to follow someone the way you did him, especially not when you realised he wasn’t intending to let her get away with the way she’d reacted to his advances.

🜚

You didn’t waste one single moment. You followed him hastily through each street, without hesitation, even as they became more and more decrepit, your eyes occasionally flicking toward her, walking a few paces ahead of him. You guessed she didn’t take long to realise he was following her, when she picked up her pace, and he picked up his. She then shouted something barely audible, but you couldn’t focus, launching into a run as soon as he had behind her.

“Get away from her!” You cried, but he didn’t pay any attention to you. You lunged toward him, almost snarling as you took him down, but he didn’t hesitate to fight against you, kicking at your legs and feet as you winced, trying desperately to keep him down for her. You guessed it should have been obvious to you that he would have a knife on him - what else would he have to threaten her, besides a weapon like that, or a gun?

You didn’t stop without putting up a heavy fight, though, even as you felt the blade enter your stomach. You cursed shakily, punching his right cheek as he grunted, before managing to force you off of him as you grew ever weaker, faster than you ever had before. Your vision soon grew blurry, and you stared feebly up at the slowly dimming sky above you. You sighed, wondering if anything had ever felt this peaceful before, until you remembered that morning; how you’d laid beside Cynthia, her sleeping peacefully beside you.

You smiled softly, but it didn’t take long to falter, when you were reminded of the situation at hand, Cynthia crying out for help, and the shouts of the boy who had decided to pursue her.

“Please! Just - Just let me go!” She cried, desperate to get away, somehow.

He held her tightly against a rough stone wall, grinning sadistically over at her. There was no way he’d let his prey go, now that he’d caught and latched onto her like a true slimy leech. Until you’d finally gathered the strength to push yourself back up again.

“You smell nice,” he remarked, pressing his nose into the crook of her neck whilst she winced, tears forming within her now glossy orbs.

“That’s - kinda creepy,” she returned, but regretted it instantly as he slapped her roughly across the face, before gripping her chin as she tried not to break down anymore than she had already allowed herself to do so.

She wouldn’t let him win, not without her dignity still intact. You’d always admired her for that, even the day you’d first met her, and had found out about her being from the wealthier neighbourhood right at the top of the hill you hated climbing, but would do so for her anyway, no matter what, or why. Her presence just drew you back. Every. Single. Time.

“You oughta be careful down here, darlin’,” he commented sneeringly, “I’m surprised you even know your way around these parts - what’s the deal with that, huh?”

You winced, though it didn’t escape you that a burst of pride flowered within your chest at that fact. You clutched at your stomach feebly, trying to keep as much pressure on the wound as you could; you couldn’t let go, not yet - not when she was still in danger of being violated, maybe even killed by the man who currently held onto her like a tiger would its fresh target. You scowled, pulling yourself closer to the corner they’d both descended upon, before you peeked around, and tried to get your bearings.

You grinned, noticing the rake perched against the wall behind the two. You didn’t hesitate, drawing yourself closer slowly, but surely, to the weapon, but you guessed you weren’t good enough yet still, for the benefits of being a stealthy criminal. He kicked you against the wall, and you groaned, falling against it hopelessly as Cynthia stared over at you in shock, a pained expression on her face as she tried to breathe; tried to think, but the time was running out, so she knew she would do what her instincts told her to do.

She threw herself against the man, taking him down as he cursed, trying to stop her, but it wasn’t hard to hold him down, considering he was a similar size to the two of you. It helped especially, when you grabbed at the rake, before bringing the blunt end down upon his head. He fell limp in an instant, and you breathed heavily as you stared back at her, small tears leaking down your cheeks.

“I-”

She didn’t waste any time, throwing her arms around you as you tensed up within her hold for a brief moment, but it didn’t take you long to relax within her arms. She cried quietly into the crook of your neck, and you rubbed her back using your right hand, no matter how much it pained you to do so. Of course you tried to hide it from her, as your face scrunched up as you fought back a further wince.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered shakily, “I’m so-”

“No,” you managed a little feebly, your voice sounding a little more raspy than it did, before. She didn’t miss it, at all, as she held you at arm’s length, only then noticing the blood staining your vest. “Shit,” you cursed barely audibly, but she didn’t pay attention, a hurt look on her face as she rested her right hand subconsciously on top of your now even bloodier left one. “Cynth-”

“Why didn’t you-”

“I’m okay,” you managed timidly, but she scoffed, before hastily shaking her head, “I swear, I - I’m fine, baby, I-”

“You’re not okay,” she contradicted dejectedly, “Y/n, that - that’s a lot of blood.”

You sighed, before nodding gravely, but you didn’t dare meet her gaze again, knowing you’d most likely just break down alongside her, if you tried, and you wanted to stay stronger for her, no matter what, especially after what had just happened between her and her previous attacker.

“I guess it is,” you agreed reluctantly, “but I’ve handled it before; I can-”

“No, you’re not doing it alone,” she interjected softly, but in a manner so passionate you hardly had time to recover from how your heart skipped a beat in response to her decision, “I - yeah, I-.. I think I can do this.” She managed a faint smile, and you were helpless to stop your eyes from meeting her own. “I think I can help you,” she stated, and you would appear skeptical, but it didn’t take you long to begin feeling guilty in response to such a thought.

🜚

It didn’t take her long to stitch your wounds up - it was something she was used to having to do, now, ever since she’d become aquatinted with the area. Since the first accident, she took the required tools everywhere with her, especially since she knew what to do with them, being given many demonstrations before alongside her peers due to the fears of knife crime reaching further up the richer neighbourhoods the town was wielding a few hills away from this one.

Sure, it was still hard to move - you didn’t even care much to try. She insisted she stay with you that same night, her heart pounding blissfully alongside your own as she carefully held your body close to her’s, making sure to not touch the stitches she’d recently done for you. You sighed subconsciously, staring up at the stars above you both - nothing had ever been more beautiful, than the sight there right in front of you. Well, you’d be lying if you made such a claim, actually.

There was something more beautiful - someone. You tried to stop your gaze from drifting over to her, your heart still beating much too fast for you to gather your thoughts clearly. She shuddered, feeling your left hand brushing against her right one. This only prompted a wince from her, as she forgot how to breathe for a brief moment, trying not to show it too easily that you’d had such an effect on her.

“So-.. this - this might be a stupid question, but..” She began timidly, and you were helpless not to let your eyes fall upon the angel beside you. “Have you - Have you ever liked someone, but you’re too scared to say it?” She asked, and you would fall quiet, your heart skipping yet another beat after another.

It only made your face feel much too warm, to find her glancing back at you with a soft smile playing on her lips. Thank god for the darkness, maybe she wouldn’t be able to see that you might be blushing right now - at least, you hoped she couldn’t, somehow.

“Yes,” you answered simply, after a brief moment of damning hesitation.

She raised her eyebrows, your heart still pounding against your ribcage. She grinned, noticing that you were definitely trying to hide your face from her.

“And?” She pried, too curious for her own good.

You tried to appear none the wiser, shrugging as you looked blankly back at her.

“And - what?” You asked, as if you really had no clue as to what she was trying to pry out of you, right now, but she wasn’t about to give in - why would she, when she still hoped that maybe you could still be experiencing the very same feelings she was?

“You know what,” she insisted, but you scoffed, shaking your head as if you really didn’t, but she knew you were lying - your eyebrows furrowing was a very telling move you were deciding to play with her, “who was, or is it? Y’know, that you liked, or still like?”

You frowned, not sure if you should say. Even if you’d both been a little too familiar with one another recently, it still felt like a boundary you couldn’t break through - not yet, anyway. Her heart sank, as you turned away from her, especially when she was still afraid that maybe you’ll get yourself worse all over again, after only recently having your stitches done by her.

“Just go to sleep,” you answered dejectedly, and she tried not to protest, though she knew she should, especially when you sounded like it was something heavy weighing down upon you, when it didn’t necessarily need to be, whether you did, or didn’t feel the same way that she did, for you.

She rolled her eyes, before nodding gravely, and turning to face you properly so she could wrap her arms around your waist again. You tried not to tense up in response to the feeling of her arms being around you, but god was it hard for you to try and stop yourself from having any reaction whatsoever.

“Sure,” she replied reluctantly, though it wasn’t missed by you at all as she tried to make her voice too bright than she could muster, right now, “just - don’t you dare steal the blankets, tonight, okay? We’ve got a big day tomorrow, remember? Regardless of whether you’re well enough to keep the tradition going.”

Shit. It was only then that it hit you; you’d forgot about Friday - or, more well known as especially after she’d coined the term the first time you’d heard it from her: ‘Friyay’. You tried not to sigh - if you wanted to make things right, somehow, you knew that this could be your only chance - well, probably not, but you still wanted to treat it that way. You grinned, allowing your left hand to delicately close over her own.

“As if I’d ruin Friyays for us,” you remarked, and her heart skipped a beat a little - it always tended to, whenever you used that word: ‘us’, as if there was still a chance that maybe you held the same feelings for her that she did, for you. She allowed a soft exhale of relief to escape her, but only briefly, before she lovingly pressed a kiss to the left side of your neck - tomorrow would be a long, but beautiful day. One could only hope that it would be, anyway.

🜚🜸🜚

She woke up with a start, the next morning, half-expecting to see you gone from her side again, but this time you were still there beside her, and her heart had never felt so full before.

“G’morning,” she managed lazily, and you giggled softly, before you leaned forward to press a soft kiss to her lips.

She shuddered, and you smiled lovingly against her.

“Happy Friyay, Cynthy,” you cooed delicately, and she lifted her right hand up to your left cheek, the touch making you almost melt into her completely.

You only wished you could, at this point. She slowly sat up, though she’d rather remain by your side for the rest of the day - maybe even her life. She sighed, noticing the sky looking light enough to be the time she knew she had to head off by, to get back home in time for her sessions, today. You frowned, guessing exactly what was on her mind, except you wished you couldn’t, like you had, noticing the way her smile dropped just in time for your own heart to do so even before this reaction had befallen her.

“I just wish-..” She sighed, and you would falter, before shaking your head, and carefully wrapping your arms around her waist,

“Then - Then stay,” you requested, “baby, please, you can afford to-”

“If I don’t go, my parents - they’ll know something is wrong, okay? I can’t let them find out about us,” she stated determinedly, and you couldn’t stop the hurt from showing upon your face, only making her heart hurt even more than it ever had before, “they’d hurt you-”

“But-”

“Y/n, no,” she interjected sharply, but that didn’t stop her voice from being gentle, the way it usually tended to be, whenever she was around you the way that she was, now, “I’m not letting you get hurt, okay? I-.. you-.. shit.”

She appeared a little flustered, her face growing too hot as she tried to find the right words to say, but it was impossible, so instead she allowed herself to bow her head, even though you’d already noticed how much redder she was now, than she had been before.

“Are you blushing?” You questioned, your heart beginning to pound steadily against your ribcage again as she winced, before scoffing, and trying to shake her head convincingly, as if she really believed she weren’t, somehow.

“W-What? No!” She claimed, sounding much too breathless than she usually did. You knew you shouldn’t, but nothing could stop it now as you smirked subconsciously over at her, your eyes glinting with new purpose like they never had before, as long as it was her you were close to, more than anyone you’d ever met before. “Y/n,” she whined, and you raised your hands up in surrender playfully, as if you didn’t know what you were doing to her, right now, “why are you like this?”

You appeared puzzled, but the smile never left your face, even as your eyebrows furrowed quizzically again.

“Oh come on, Cynthy, I know you love me,” you responded teasingly, and she would fall quiet, her heart skipping a beat as her eyes briefly met your’s, and it almost felt like a brief hint of electricity was surging between you both, even when she bowed her head, and fidgeted anxiously with her fingers before you. “Hey, are you-”

A wave of dread passed between you, as shouting rang out from somewhere beyond the alleyway. She warily looked toward the dark entrance, appearing more alarmed than you’d ever seen her before.

“Y/n-” She began, but she hardly had time to continue before a strained sob escaped her lips at the piercing cry of another woman being shot most likely after trying to steal some bread from the local bakery, not too far away from here.

It had happened a few times, before, too. You didn’t hesitate to hold her body close to you, carefully covering her mouth using your right hand whilst making sure not to obscure it too much to the point that she couldn’t breathe.

“It’s okay,” you cooed softly, your voice a little shaky, whilst still being close to the faintest whisper, “everything’s going to be okay, I promise - she’ll be in a better place now; n-no more suffering, okay? Everything’s gonna be fine; I-..”

You frowned, before biting back your tongue, knowing you shouldn’t allow such words to escape your lips just yet; you doubted she’d want to hear them, no matter how much it truly pained you to think in such a manner as that was. It wasn’t long, before raspy cries and breaths began to die down. Once you were sure Cynthia had calmed down some more; just enough, you removed your hand, and she cried quietly into the crook of your neck, hugging your body close to her’s tightly as she tried not to let her own sobs come out louder than they should, right now.

“M-Maybe you’re right,” she murmured faintly, “I - I should stay with you, today, but-.. we’re gonna have to come up with the best lie anyone’s ever heard, before, alright? C-Can you help me with that, maybe?”

You grinned, before nodding, your forehead affectionately connected to her own again.

“With pleasure, Miss Hammond,” you replied lightly, and she couldn’t help, but giggle softly alongside you as she sniffled away the last of her fright and tears, but it didn’t stop her from harbouring at least some regrets, mostly centred around the fact that she still hadn’t told you that she loved you, yet, not even in the face of danger.

🜚

You wanted to make the day tolerable for her to the best of your ability, so you stole a pack of cards for her - sure, not the most romantic thing you could do, but you didn’t know much else about stuff like that. It didn’t stop her from beaming up at you as you snuck back into the alleyway, smirking sheepishly over at her as shouting erupted in the distance - most likely the disgruntled shop owner having a fit after you’d pulled off such a snatch.

She raised her eyebrows, noticing the pack within your hands. Before she could even open her mouth, you knew she would question you, but it seemed like she thought better of it, shrugging, before she pat the ground before her, and you timidly crouched down before her.

“Hey,” she began shyly, and you couldn’t help, but giggle softly in response to how small her voice sounded, as if she were still not used to being around you - although, you couldn’t talk, with your heart pounding anxiously within your chest at the very sight of her before you, all over again.

“Fancy seeing you here, again,” you replied brightly, your voice light as a feather, and she had to stop herself from leaning forward to kiss you again, no matter how hard it was for her to do so, right now, especially as your eyes began to glint the way they did as soon as they had locked with her own.

She never expected things to turn South, the way they did, but she guessed she should have known as soon as the question slipped her lips, right?

“Look, I - I wasn’t gonna ask, but - I was thinking, yesterday,” she began a little exasperatedly, fiddling with her fingers again as you sloppily opened the pack of cards, segregating the cards as needs be - well, depending on whatever game you both decided you wanted to play together, “why did you save me?”

You tensed up again, your heart skipping a beat as you winced, before slowly setting the pile of cards that remained down upon the ground between you and her.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, your voice threatening to tremble, and she hesitated, a pained expression on her face, though she wanted more than anything to know what you might have been thinking, before, getting yourself stabbed like that just because she was in danger, the way that she was before.

“I-.. I don’t know, I just-.. don’t worry about it, let’s just - let’s just play, huh?” She encouraged, and you would try not to frown, glancing back down at the ground though it pained you to do so.

“Killer?” You suggested, and she shrugged, managing a too bright ‘sure’, before you began distributing the cards, not forgetting to shuffle them beforehand, of course, but the mood felt - off, after that moment, and you couldn’t deny that it hurt, feeling such a change in the air between you both, like you had, a brief moment ago.

You should have known it would have carried on the way it did, even by the end of the first game.

🜚

“Seriously?” You remarked, evidently a little exasperated as she set down another winning card, knocking you out of the game effectively given you had been on your freebie, the rocks you’d previously had being added to the reward pile between the two of you.

“What? I won, fair and square,” she commented, as if holding back a giggle, “why you looking at me like that, huh? Like I betrayed you, or something?”

“You lied,” you whined, “you know I’m a sore loser, at least be honest with me, Cynthy-”

“Oh, c’mon,” she complained knowingly, but her smile never went away alongside your own, “of course I lied, Y/n - do you think I’d actually tell you the truth if I had a good card, especially in the position I’m in, huh?”

You hesitated, before nodding gravely, and managing a faint smile up at her.

“You seem to like lying to me,” you mused, and she would falter, a pained expression on her face as she bowed her head, not sure what to think anymore, “but - hey, I - I erm-.. sorry, I.. I didn’t mean anything by that, I know I didn’t, I just-.. it’s fine, okay? I-.. I hope-.. I don’t know what I’m even saying, at this point, but-..” You winced, before appearing taken aback by an idea you’d just had - thank god it came to mind, though, before it could get any worse between you both, right now. “Hey, erm - you - d-d’you wanna have a Harry Potter Marathon?” You inquired, and she would appear surprised, too, alongside you - it was so random, but it didn’t take her a lot to think that it was cute, to see you in a flustered state such as this one, just because you wanted to go to great lengths for her, somehow, all for a reason unbeknownst to her, as of this moment in time.

“Y/n, what - what the hell? It’s 2am,” she reminded you, and you would appear taken aback by such a claim.

It didn’t even occur to you that such a possibility could be as ridiculous as it was, the sky still quite light above you, but you found yourself too distracted by her eyes to even care about times of day anymore.

“So?” You pried, in a dumbfounded manner.

She couldn’t help, but giggle, though she tried to hold it back, but it was much too hard right now, seeing the effect she seemed to have on you in person still, like this.

“I have school work to do, tomorrow,” she reminded you innocently, and your heart sank deeper than it ever had before - the look on your face was enough to make her own start aching deep within her chest, “Y/n-”

“Cynthy, I - I.. er-.. I really-.. I think we should-”

“Cynthia!” A deep voice shouted nearby, and you would fall quiet, a hurt look on your face as she wrapped her arms around you again, as if it had startled her to hear it, but something also made her feel as if it were an excuse for her to hold you again like she had, earlier.

“Shit,” she whispered, as the voice drew closer, her face pressed into the crook of your neck tightly, as if she were afraid of removing it from there ever again, after today, “I - I think that’s my dad - Y/n, I - I’m so sorry, I should-”

“No,” you whined, a hurt look on your face as you held her at arms length, “Cynth-”

“Cynthia!” He shouted again, a bit louder this time, as if he were trying to intimidate any unwanted creatures in the area, who weren’t his poor little daughter on the wrong side of town.

“I have to go,” she insisted, though her eyes began to glisten alongside your own, “I’m sorry, okay? I can’t let him find you; I-.. can’t let him find us, so-..”

“Right,” you murmured dejectedly, as you reluctantly removed your own arms from around her, as her’s lingered a second longer than they should have, at this point, “you’re-.. you’re right, I-.. I’m sorry, I - I should never have-.. have thought-..”

Her heart ached even more in response to how your face crumpled, but you didn’t let yourself break down, quickly bowing your head to try and keep the remaining tears in.

“Y/n, I-”

“There you are,” he interjected, but his voice didn’t take long to cut short as soon as his gaze fell upon the two of you still so close together, the cards you’d been playing with still spread out along the ground behind her, after she’d had to awkwardly cross them to get to you.

“Shit,” she began - not a great start, perhaps, as her father appeared taken aback by her use of such a term, “dad, I - I can explain, I swear, it’s not what it-”

“She was in trouble,” you murmured, and she couldn’t help it as she allowed her gaze to fall upon you again, her eyes even drifting down to your lips for a brief moment, but she knew she should try and cover it up as she winced, before rubbing her right eye using her hand as you tried to find the right words you could use to protect her again to the best of your ability, no matter what it meant for you, after today, “I stopped her from getting killed; you gotta take her back to where she belongs, now, okay? She’ll only ever get hurt here.”

Her heart dropped again as your glossy eyes met her own, and there were so many questions radiating off of her, ones you knew you’d probably never be able to answer, but you wished you could, as you got up off of the ground, but you guessed it should have occurred to you that he would have a gun on him, and he wasn’t afraid to use it, even in the most wrong of situations.

🜚

It didn’t take long for one of his bullets to escape from the barrel, but he guessed he wasn’t expecting Cynthia to take it on instead of you. She cried out as soon as it hit her, and you fell quiet behind her, a pained expression on your face as you looked behind you to find her leaning heavily against the wall to her right.

“Cynthy!” You cried, but her father would raise his gun again, and you didn’t know what to do, warily looking back at her as she silently begged you to run, and never look back. “No,” you whined, but you found yourself lost for much of a choice, as he made to pull down the trigger again, and the only thing you knew you could do to stay alive for her was run - and that was exactly what you did for her.

🜚

Later that night, with questions still circling her mind, Cynthia lay in her bed awkwardly, one arm draped over her left side, where the bullet had previously embedded itself. Even then, all she could think about was how she hoped you were safe, somewhere far from here, wherever that might be. A part of her even dreaded to think what might happen, if she never saw you again. She would never have expected it, how a small pebble hit her window, and she was distracted from her previous thoughts of you, and how she wished she could have done more, somehow, to stay with you, without him almost getting you killed, alongside her.

She winced, groaning as she sat up slowly, anxiously looking toward her bedroom window as she wondered if maybe the pebble was just a figment of her wounded imagination, but a second one came shortly after, and she had no doubts anymore. Her hands shook a little, as she pushed herself up off of the bed, gritting her teeth as her side throbbed excruciatingly beneath the bandages her father had had the local doctors apply shortly after he’d had the bullet embedded within her, anyway.

She slowly limped toward it, narrowing her eyes as she wondered what could be awaiting her, beyond her room. She only hoped her dad was still asleep, especially when she noticed that you’d climbed up halfway the house to get to the window she stood before.

“Fuck,” you uttered, grazing your right elbow, but it didn’t deter you as you pushed yourself a little further up, the fingers of your right hand still gripping onto one of the branches of the tree beside you. You only stopped, when you saw her looking down at you, her eyes glinting like the very stars above you both. You couldn’t help, but smile, your heart skipping a beat, but you knew you couldn’t get distracted as you reminded yourself of your position, gripping onto the windowsill above you, before you gesticulated toward the small balcony between her bedroom, and her father’s.

She didn’t hesitate, knowing exactly what you wanted her to do as she carefully pushed herself toward the door of her bedroom, no longer feeling her wound paining her the way that it was, before - not whilst she was thinking about you, anyway.

“Y/n-? W-What are you-?” She faltered at the door; you hadn’t made it, yet, and she winced, limping toward the railing sealing off the ledges, but she couldn’t see you - not until you finally had your arms around her, and were pressing your face delicately into the crook of her neck.

“Don’t move,” you whispered delicately, and her eyelids fluttered shut as you softly pressed your lips to her neck, only making it all the more harder to breathe than it was, before.

“Y/n,” she cooed, but you wouldn’t pull away; you’d missed holding her, like this, and you didn’t want to leave her alone again like you’d had to, earlier, “you shouldn’t be here-”

“Well I am here, aren’t I? Baby-”

“Stop,” she interjected dejectedly, and you would falter, a pained expression on your face as you reluctantly stopped, your heart dropping alongside the smile that had previously intruded upon your lips, the way it did a brief moment ago, “Y/n, we - we can’t be-.. this isn’t-..” She grunted, evidently frustrated. “Fuck, don’t you remember what I told you, the first time?” She asked, and you frowned, because of course you remembered; everything you’d ever heard her say stuck with you more than PVA glue ever could. “If we’re going to keep seeing each other like this, and - and keep being - y’know-.. involved, I guess, then-.. I want some clarity, okay? Can you do that, for me? Or are we gonna keep being something I’ll never be able to figure out, huh?” She questioned, and you would draw in a barely audible shaky breath, your fingers trembling as you bowed your head, knowing that if there was any good time you could tell her, maybe this would be the right slot to try within.

“Cynthy-”

“Cynthia?” Her father’s voice rang out again somewhere within the house, sounding too close for comfort as you tensed up again, before rushing up toward the door, and pulling yourself up onto the roof of their home.

She didn’t know why she felt so empty, when you were further away from her again; she couldn’t even reach you, anymore. She sighed, turning away from the door even as her father began walking toward it, before he stood in the doorway a few paces behind her.

“What do you want?” She uttered, leaning heavily against the railing before her as he winced, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words to say in such a situation.

“Look, sweetheart, I - I’m sorry,” he began again slowly, but she scoffed, subconsciously shaking her head as she stared blankly down at the ground, her eyebrows furrowing a little as her eyes grew to be glossy all over again. “I was trying to get her, not you; you can’t trust the people down there - she could have easily-”

“She saved me,” she spat, and the bitterness came out so much fresher than it ever had before, “she would never-”

“And how would you know what she intended to do to you?” He pried sharply; a warning, but she didn’t heed it; she didn’t care anymore. She wouldn’t let him put you down like that, not for anything in the world. Not that there was anything much left within it for her to care about anymore, besides you. “It sounds to me like you care very deeply for this girl - maybe too much, how about that?” He asked, and you would tense up, as her heart began to pound too loud within her chest; she only hoped he couldn’t hear it, although she wanted nothing but to be able to scream her feelings for you upon every rooftop in each town.

Each country, even - if only she could, somehow.

“How about you mind your own business, huh?” She retorted, as she turned sharply to face him, even as her side began to burn all over again. “If she wanted to kill me, or - or do whatever to me - she would have done it, right then and there, right? She would have-”

“You’re tired,” he uttered gravely, not wanting to hear anymore, “go back to bed.”

She hastily shook her head, a hurt look on her face as she anxiously looked up at you, only briefly; she knew she couldn’t get you into trouble again, not for anything. No matter what.

“Fine,” she spat, though she wished she could keep fighting for you, somehow, without having you both almost get killed again, “just-.. leave me alone, already, okay?”

She pushed herself to meander around him, and your heart throbbed excruciatingly within your chest as she went, but you weren’t ready to give in just yet. You’d get to her, somehow, even if it killed you, in the end.

🜚🜸🜚

You didn’t expect the days to pass by as fast as they did, and it certainly pained you to find that they were the darkest days of your life, each one full of excruciating memories whenever you were reminded of the current situation at hand here; she was still being guarded by her father, and it was becoming increasingly hard to see her. You grunted, pushing yourself off of the wall behind you as you put out the cigarette you’d been smoking previously; you said you were gonna quit, but what exactly was the point of doing so, now?

You also said that there would be no more withdrawals, as the woman before you smirked up at you after she’d finally had done with you. You needed something to think clearly, and what better way to let other ‘undesirables’ of society like yourself get you to where you needed to be, as long as you could think about Cynthia as they did. They didn’t ask questions, if ever her name slipped your lips unintentionally. You sighed, forcing a smile back down at her, meandering around her awkwardly before she could lean upward and kiss you like she looked like she tried to.

You probably sounded like you were a bad person, but that’s okay. You decided what to do with your life, nobody else could dictate that thoroughly for you - well, nobody else, but her. You were still scared to think about the lengths you would go to for Cynthia, no matter what the situation behind your actions might be.

“You don’t like me, do you?” The woman inquired, and you would fall quiet, evidently surprised as you looked back at her, your heart sinking a bit - okay, so maybe you did sometimes feel guilty like any normal person would, but you didn’t like to show it a lot of the time, so it hit you harder especially when none of the other women you’d got involved with had never asked questions about your distant demeanour before.

“Why? Do you like me?” You questioned, and she would hesitate, before sighing, and beginning to re-dress herself alongside you.

“As a person, not really,” she admitted, and you shrugged; that was fine - you didn’t much like yourself as a person, either, so you guessed it was to be expected, especially from other people, “but your body? Sure. I just wish you’d be a little nicer about it.”

You would appear puzzled, your eyebrows furrowing as you sat down upon the sheet you usually slept on, as well as sometimes used in your sessions with Cynthia. You’d never used it with other women, however - a part of you wouldn’t let you, and you didn’t know why, but you guessed some things were better off just unknown, right?

“What do you mean?” You inquired, curious.

She raised her eyebrows in your direction, before scoffing, and slowly inching closer to you. You didn’t miss how she looked you up and down again, as she did, as if sizing you up still even after you’d both gotten intimate with one another, a few brief moments ago, now.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” She mused, a thoughtful expression on her face you’d never noticed before during each of your and her interactions, before now. Not even during the particularly heated ones, not that they were as frequent as your moments with Cynthia were, before now. “Maybe that’s for the better, huh?” She giggled lowly, before pressing a sloppy kiss to your left cheek, after you’d turned your face a little to avoid her lips touching your’s again - it only made things hurt a bit more than they should, right now.

You sighed gravely, once she’d disappeared around the corner; you needed to stop losing control of yourself, like that, if you wanted to keep Cynthia beside you, but at the same time you knew you’d both not exactly made any commitments, yet, and who was to say then that she wasn’t seeing people behind your back, too? The thought hurt in two ways, one made you angry at yourself for even assuming she’d do that to you, while the other part of you was jealous and achey at the thought of her being with anyone else, besides you.

You bowed your head, blinking back tears as you rubbed the back of your neck using your shaky right hand; you’d make a vow, starting today, to never let yourself get involved with other women like yourself again, if they weren’t Cynthia, if she even still wanted to be with you, from this point onwards.

🜚🜸🜚

The vow was hard to keep, especially whenever you felt like you were losing her. Sometimes, it even felt like she was distancing herself from you, one day or two not showing up at all within the alleyway you both tended to meet up in. Your heart dropped whenever you thought about how things were changing, but you guessed you didn’t blame her - if she wanted things to change, then you were happy, as long as she was happy.

There were oftentimes you could only think about one thing: you wished you had told her about your true feelings for her, before it felt as if it were too late for you to do so. Little did you know, she too wished she could do the same thing, but she was terrified of what you might say, or do; how it might break things up between you both, like her father had been trying to do so recently, even going to the extent of driving her to and fro between their house, and the school she was having to go to for her private courses.

You found it hard to move, too, whenever you thought about how things were; you didn’t know why - who would? Things just hurt too much, when they weren’t with her. You often cried quietly as you curled up upon your sheet, trying not to let it show too much the pain that you were in, for fear of what it would make the others think of you, now. Times of self pleasure didn’t do much to increase your mood or will to live anymore either, especially not whenever you were thinking of her again; the way she touched you; smiled at you.

A lot of it became a blur. You tried to push through it, but it became too much, eventually.

🜚

The self-harm and withdrawals came when Winter started showing signs of arriving, again. The air was full of a bitter chill, and snow occasionally came down in icy lumps or little crystals. You’d recently heard that there was going to be some sort of typical prom going on at her college, but she hadn’t told you, herself. She’d claimed she didn’t want to go, but she looked worried when she told you, after you’d asked her about it, shortly after you’d heard ongoing conversations here and there the further up town you worked around, mostly by thieving and - sometimes - allowing yourself to lose control again on the worst of days; she wasn’t around much anymore, so what else could you do?

You couldn’t sit around and cry all the time; it wouldn’t be keeping her safe, the way you wished you could, no matter how much it hurt to do so in the process.

“Hey,” she’d managed timidly one time, after peeking her head around the alleyway, before she slipped into it upon noticing you fidgeting with one of the pen-knives you’d stolen from some fancy place you couldn’t remember the name of up there, “s-sorry I’m late, I was just-”

“Don’t worry about it,” you managed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you set the blade down, before getting up to wrap your arms around her. She, too, couldn’t resist a smile as she returned the embrace, wondering how she’d survived all those times without you beside her, like you were now. “I-.. I missed you, Cynthy, I always-..” You fell quiet, noticing an awkward figure lingering at the entrance, her eyes occasionally darting between you both, before they flicked toward the road behind her. Your heart dropped, but you didn’t dare make too much of a scene out of the moment. “You brought a friend, huh?” You guessed, the smile becoming a lot more forced, now.

Cynthia frowned, remembering the girl, as well as her manners, alongside her.

“Shit, sorry,” she managed a little exasperatedly, as she turned half-way, encouraging the figure to come closer than she was, right now, “Y/n, this - this is Stella, and - obviously, Stella, this is Y/n.”

Stella awkwardly shuffled upon her feet, a faint smile forming on her lips once your gaze had briefly met her’s.

“Hey,” you greeted awkwardly, as well as a little dismissively; this wasn’t something you were that used to doing, still, especially not around her, too.

“Hi,” the girl replied, before offering her right hand to you, and you would tilt your head partially, not sure exactly what she was trying to do, but you reluctantly allowed your hand to meet her’s, looking all the more perplexed as she began to move it up and down a little, before withdrawing her own from your’s again, “it - it’s really nice to meet you; I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“That’s funny,” you remarked a little bitterly, though it made you feel bad to do so, eventually, no matter how much you tried to hide it from the two of them, your heart aching a little at the reflection of your demeanour where it certainly was more than uncalled for, “‘cause this is the first time I’m finding out about you - right, Cynthy?”

She tensed up a little in response to your comment, whilst Stella looked a tad bit dejected to hear such a revelation.

“Y/n-” Cynthia began timidly as she eased you aside, Stella awkwardly taking a few steps back, acknowledging that this was probably supposed to be a private moment between you both, not meant for her own ears, regardless of whatever the context of such a matter might be.

“Two weeks,” you uttered dejectedly, and her heart dropped in response to your words; how small your voice had gotten all of a sudden as if all that remained of you was a shell of yourself, now, ever since you’d lost her like you felt as if you had, all those days ago, now, “so it takes you two weeks, and god knows how many hours to come back here like nothing changed, huh? What am I to you? Just - Just some fucking play toy for you to pick up whenever you want to? Why, Cynth? Why did you-?”

“I didn’t have a choice,” she interjected a little shakily, as if she were aching with it still like you were, too, so many parts of her threatening to break down alongside you that it was verging on being crazy, at this point, but what could be done to stop it? You wished for so many things, the top 3 being everything to do with her. The last thing had been you wanted to die, but now it was steadily crawling up the list faster than anything ever had, before. “Y/n, please, don’t - don’t be like this; I’m here, now, I-”

“Sure, you’re here,” you murmured, before you scowled subconsciously toward Stella again, “but you could have warned me about your friend before-.. never-mind; it - it doesn’t matter, so-.. let’s just-”

“I - I can go, if - if that’s what you guys need, right now? I mean-..” Stella winced at herself, before cursing quietly, and shaking her head as if she’d given up on something unbeknownst to the two of you.

“No, it - it’s fine, honestly,” Cynthia reassured her gently, and it made you burn to see the way she smiled at her, your hands threatening to ball into fists at your sides in response to such a sight, “we just-.. haven’t talked in a little while, I guess, so-..”

“Oh,” Stella responded thoughtfully, “r-right, sorry.”

Cynthia hesitantly looked back toward you, a pained expression on her face as she tried to find the right words to say, but her voice failed her almost completely, especially when she noticed how red your eyes had gotten, recently. You bowed your head a little subconsciously, before trying to swallow back the lump that formed within your throat - now wasn’t the time for breaking down over the smallest of things all over again, so you tried to stand a little taller, forcing a smile over at the both of them.

She almost believed it, if she didn’t know you as well as she did, by now. She guessed that was why everything hurt, like it did then, as you meandered swiftly around her, and gently pat Stella’s shoulder as if she were more to you than she was, already, even though you’d only just met one another, at this point.

“Make yourself at home,” you cooed a little too sweetly, your voice still threatening to crack as you gently squeezed her shoulder, before finally withdrawing your left hand from her, “any friend of Cynthy’s is a friend of mine, I guess.”

Stella appeared a little more at ease at that, managing a faint smile back at you - it was almost enough to make Cynthia feel the forming spiral of the beginnings of what could be jealousy, even though it was only a minor interaction between you and her. And hardly much of what a warm one would look like, at that. It eased her, too, to remind herself of what it looked like; you being genuine, whenever the two of you were together, before this moment in time.

“Thank you,” the girl managed, “that - that means a lot to me.”

You couldn’t deny you’d had a few too many interactions with her after that day, too, regardless of how much she made you hate her for her sudden relationship with Cynthia, the way that you did, then.

🜚🜸🜚

“I, uh-.. I think I’m in love with you,” she claimed one day, you faltering as you winced, and rolled your eyes, though it did make you feel a little guilty to do so once it was done, even though she hadn’t seen it happen when it did.

Moments like these only made you ache for Cynthia more than you ever had before, but you doubted she’d ever want to see you again, now, after your and her previous interaction.

“Is that right?” You mused, and Stella appeared a little nervous as she awaited a further response from you, hopefully maybe an ‘I love you too’? You did try, but the words stuck right there in your throat; they weren’t ready to come out yet, especially not when they were waiting to reach Cynthia’s ears, instead of her’s. Stella appeared a little dejected at your hesitations, visible as they were, right now, you trying your best not to stutter and break down, right then and there before her, but you didn’t know what else to do, right now. Things had just been - difficult… to control recently, to say the least. “Cool,” you managed, eventually, and her heart sank even further than it ever had before.

“Is that it? You - You just think it’s ‘cool’, huh?” She uttered, and you would sigh, before turning begrudgingly to face her completely, your gaze avoiding her own subconsciously as if you were afraid of her seeing right through you, somehow.

“I mean, it - it is cool, so - y’know,” you murmured awkwardly, shuffling upon your feet, as she warily got up off of the ground to wrap her arms around your waist. You flinched at her touch, though you tried to disguise it with a cough, but it was evidently not enough, as she smiled sadly over at you, withdrawing her arms again from around you. “Stella,” you began, but she shook her head dejectedly, and you knew better than to continue, especially when you noticed the hurt look on her face telling you you’d done enough to hurt her, by now, though you’d not exactly intended to do so.

“You love her, don’t you?” She guessed, her voice close to a faint whisper, and you would try and act none the wiser, though you knew exactly who she might be talking about, right now, your heart skipping a beat enough to take your breath away for a brief moment, at least.

“Who?” You questioned, narrowing your eyes over at her as you tried to appear dumbfounded, but it didn’t escape her that your eyes had begun to glisten, even as you bowed your head to try and hide that they were doing so, right now.

“Don’t play stupid with me, Y/n,” she practically pleaded with you, only making you feel worse as you grunted, before turning away to start buttoning up your shirt again like you were doing, before she’d interrupted you doing so, a brief few moments ago. “I know you know who I’m talking about,” she uttered, her voice briefly trembling, but you didn’t dare glance back at her, “Cynthia - you love her; I know you do-”

“I’ve never loved anyone,” you retorted dismissively, “I don’t know why you’d even think that I’d-”

“So this is what you’ve been doing, huh?” A too familiar voice rang out behind you both, and you’d never felt anything like the pain you did in that moment; it was like something was shattering within you, and you couldn’t stop it, no matter how much you tried to recompose yourself in that moment, your hands even shaking with it as you let slip the top button from your fingers.

“Cynthy,” you whispered subconsciously, before timidly turning to face her, Stella a dejected look on her face again as she bowed her head, not sure what to say anymore.

“I thought-.. Stell, you - you said-” She began again, her voice faint as she gradually began to put things together, looking between the both of you with a hurt look on her face, especially when her gaze fell upon you for longer than it should have. “You, too?” She scoffed, before she shrugged, and tried to laugh through it, but it was too shaky to be anything, but full of a pain you wished you could take away from her, somehow. “I guess I should have known better than to trust either of you, huh?” She spat, before making to walk away, but you didn’t hesitate to follow after her, even almost stumbling over your own feet as you caught her right arm gently, prompting her to falter in place for a moment as soon as she felt the familiar spark of electricity between you both again - not like it meant much, anyway, she reminded herself as she grimaced tearfully down at the ground beneath you both.

“C-Cynthy, wait, p-please,” you begged, sounding too exasperated to be anything, but calm, right now, “I - I can explain, I swear-”

“No, it - it’s fine,” she murmured, forcing a smile back at you, and you couldn’t explain how much it made you want to tear your heart out, seeing the layers of pain she was trying to hide away from you, right then, and there, as if she doubted you could see her the way that she could actually see you, too, “we haven’t made any - commitments, right? I’m just-.. tired, I guess; it’s been a long day, right?”

You subconsciously shook your head, your heart throbbing excruciatingly within your chest as she carefully withdrew her arm from your hold, no matter how much it pained her to do so, right now.

“Cynthy-”

“I’ll see you around, okay?” She interjected softly, but you wanted her to scream at you; to hit you - do anything to hurt you, like you’d hurt her.

You tried to inch closer to her, but she moved away as fast as she possibly could, and you guessed it did hurt, but the knife in your heart wasn’t enough to make you feel any better about the situation at hand, here.

“Wait, please, don’t - don’t do this, I-”

“What? Don’t leave, after-?” She fell quiet, before she sighed heavily, and shrugged her anger off to the best of her ability, again. “Whatever, it - it doesn’t matter, anyway; you can do whatever you want, okay? Besides, you don’t need me here right now, right? You have Stella, remember?” Stella looked like she wanted to interject, too, but she couldn’t find the right words to say as Cynthia smiled weakly back at you. “I’ll see you guys around, okay? Just-.. I hope you guys’ll be happy, alright? No matter what you decide, now,” she concluded, her voice sounding strained again as she quickly turned her face away again, not wanting you to see that she was still trying not to cry, as a result of the situation at hand, here.

You didn’t know what to do, as she forced a final smile up at you, her eyes glistening painfully, before she pushed herself to continue walking down the street; the way she came, before, her heart aching with every step she took, but she guessed she shouldn’t be mad about it, right? She even wondered if maybe she should do it, too, but no matter how much she tried, it always felt wrong, especially when you began to catch her with other women, too.

🜚🜸🜚

The first time was okay; she trusted her pick as Olivia - another girl attending the private college she was in, alongside her - pressed her gently (with some hint of urgency) into the nearest restroom, before she eased Cynthia into one of the stalls, the two having to occasionally stop kissing just to ensure they didn’t bump into anything more than they had, already. It was quick - it had to be; maybe that was why she didn’t enjoy it so much as she usually did, whenever it was with you.

The second time was a little rougher; she’d started going to the student bar more often, and that was where she met Jamie. The girl was leaning heavily against the bar, giggling with her friends, before her gaze fell upon Cynthia, and lingered upon her a second too long, or so. Cynthia smiled timidly back at her, before slowly making her way toward the bar, keeping enough distance between her and the other girl as needs be, to avoid any suspicion from her friends, at all.

It was when she felt Jamie’s hand upon her left inner thigh that she knew she would be the next one. There’d been two occurrences between them, one in the too hot toilet within the bar, where Jamie left Cynthia abruptly after the two had finished with one another, whilst the second had been a little more unexpected. She never thought Jamie would hurt her, but she guessed she didn’t know a lot about her, so what did she expect?

She sighed, uncomfortably rubbing at the bruises alongside her right side; it was hard to move, even, without them paining her the way they had been, previously, ever since their last session together.

“Fuck,” she whispered a little shakily, before pulling herself back up off of the ground, but she was still a little tipsy, and nausea befell her faster than her conscious could. She cried quietly, occasionally throwing up quite violently as she did, but she couldn’t take it back; she needed to be a little more careful, next time, if there even was one.

It was no surprise that there was, but she never expected you to be there in part for it. She’d dumped Jamie; had been talking less and less to Olivia, but still nothing felt any better than it was, before. She’d begun experimenting some more, mainly where drugs were concerned. It was another girl from the bar - Shona, she believed her name was, who introduced her to the stuff. Shona liked to call it ‘Mummy’s Powder’; the first time she heard it, it flustered her - she couldn’t deny that, but shortly after that moment there was no more thinking, as Shona led her prey outside, the two giggling as the girl pressed her against the wall, nibbling at her neck sweetly.

She thought Shona cared about her, the way she handled her as delicately as she did, that night, even helping her back to her parent’s house as her head throbbed, and body ached still as the drugs, alongside her previous high, slowly wore off of her. She remembered hearing Shona giggling with her as she almost tripped over her own feet again; how she thought her laugh was pretty, but she couldn’t deny that something still felt - wrong, about what she was doing.

A part of her was still empty, somehow, even before her blurry gaze fell upon the figure stood a few paces away from the two.

“Who’s that?” Shona inquired, her bright voice and giggle dying down a little, and Cynthia couldn’t take the silence, even missing the girl’s laughter as she narrowed her eyes dejectedly in your direction.

It was painful, the way your heart just sank hopelessly as you stepped back for a brief moment, holding the flowers you’d managed to buy for her behind your back, still. She winced, her head paining her the more she tried to think, so she gave up, and smiled weakly over at the girl still holding her up the way that she was, now.

“Don’t worry about it,” she managed, her words threatening to stumble over one another as her ears even began to ring a little uncomfortable, “l-let’s just get to the door, and I’ll be fine from there.”

“You’re sure?” Shona asked, and Cynthia nodded half-heartedly, even as she smiled sadly over at the girl, awkwardly stumbling alongside her down the pathway as you forced your gaze away from them, wondering why nothing had ever hurt as much as it did, now.

You scoffed, trying to harden yourself again as you pressed yourself to walk back the way you came, until you remembered the flowers again, and reluctantly looked back toward the house she’d disappeared into, by now, Shona long gone from where she’d last been stood, previously, before you. Your expression faltered, your heart skipping yet another painful beat, before you encouraged yourself to walk back up toward the estate, until you’d got close enough to leave the flowers by the gate, the note you’d attached to them saying you loved her flapping about in the wind like a fish out of water.

It didn’t make the pain ease up, though, like you’d hoped it would, maybe. Not when you still hadn’t been able to get the words out, verbally, before her. You sighed a little shakily, trying to force back the tears that began to cloud your vision again, before you took off back down the street - if anyone saw you, you knew they’d start asking questions again, and it didn’t exactly go well for you, last time, as long as you could still recall it, the way you did a lot more often, now.

Maybe that was why the nightmares started, that same night, but you didn’t blame her for them. There was only yourself to blame for the way that she had begun to change, now.

🜸🜚🜸

You found it hard to do much, after that; after you felt like you’d lost her, that day. You were curled up upon your sheet again, staring tearfully over at the brick wall to your right, wondering why you were even bothering with anything anymore. You sighed a little exasperatedly again, as you tried to stop thinking about her, but there was not a lot you could do, now, even as the woman from before appeared a little worried at seeing you in such a state, shortly after she’d peeked around the corner, and into the alleyway you often stayed within, ever since you were - well, smaller, now.

“Being lazy, again?” She guessed, and you grunted, before burying your face into your right arm, and rolling your eyes as you silently hoped she would go away, soon, and give you some more space to breathe, though it was hard to do even something as simple as that, now.

“Not right now, Suze,” you uttered, “just - just leave me alone, okay? Please-”

“But-”

“Suzi,” you spat, and she would wince, stopping in place as you scowled over at her, but it didn’t take long for your expression to crumple again, and her heart would sink at such a sight as you shook your head gravely, before turning your face away from her again, not that it would do much in your favour, now. “I-”

“Look, I know there’s something wrong,” she cooed softly, before she crouched down before you, but you didn’t dare glance up at her, even as she held your hands delicately within her own, “and I know I said I don’t like you as a person, before, but-.. maybe I can, if you’re honest with me, for once - just-.. talk to me, please.”

You hesitated, before you glanced dejectedly up at her again.

“Why? W-Why would you even care if-?” You faltered, as she shook her head slowly, and you knew it wasn’t your place to pose such a question, right now.

“You know why,” she answered gently; slowly, so you could try and process each of her words one at a time, especially in the state that you found yourself in, right now, “we’re sick of seeing you miserable - seriously, what’s your deal - huh? We’re used to you scowling around at us, sure, but this is just-.. unlike you, I know it is, so - c’mon, from one so-called ‘undesirable’ to another - what’s bugging at you, sweetheart?”

You grunted, wishing she’d just give up on you, at this point; you’d not been exactly good to her, either. You sighed, shrugging, as you looked anywhere, but over at her, your heart pounding uncomfortably within your chest as she waited patiently for you to talk to her. You didn’t know if you could hold yourself together much longer, though, as you sniffled a little, and tried to hide it pathetically as you coughed unconvincingly into your hands, but still she gave you time, and still you couldn’t imagine why.

You half-expected her to kill or rob you, right then and there, seeing you at your weakest point, but she didn’t dare exploit you like that, especially not when she’d been suffering alongside you here for a little while, now.

“It’s just-.. stupid; n-nothing important, so-”

“Right,” she interjected, and you tried to hide that her response had relieved you, until she decided to continue again, “so you’re spitting bullshit again, I see - look, if you’re just going to lie to me, at least try and be convincing - jeez-”

“I didn’t ask for you to come and question me on nothing that important, okay? Look, I just-.. I’d rather be alone, right now, so-”

“I can see that,” she stated plainly, a blank expression on her face, “but I can see right through you, Y/n - you need help, and I think maybe if you tried to do one honest thing in your entire lifetime, we could help you. So, what’ll it be? Are you gonna sit here and suffer all day, or are you gonna actually confide in us, for once? Hm?”

You hesitated, your eyes briefly meeting her’s, but you didn’t have much time to think about it, especially when you heard a familiar cry ringing out somewhere not too far from the alleyway. Nothing had ever made your heart stop like that scream did, right then are there, but you didn’t think about it, not that you could, as you meandered around her, taking off around the corner, but part of you regretted it, while the other just filled you with hatred all over again.

🜸

You guessed you should have known better, stopping where you did in the alleyway, Cynthia half-naked a few paces away from you as a familiar girl laid at her feet, bleeding out onto the gravel beneath them both. She shook against the wall, tears leaking down her cheeks as you warily approached her, a pained expression on your face.

“Cynthy-”

“No-!” She cried, her voice shaking as she recoiled from you, her heart pounding uncomfortably within her chest as your heart dropped in response to such a reaction from her.

“It’s okay,” you cooed, “Cynthy, please-”

“Shut up!” She spat, before leaning down to pick up a shard of glass laying upon the ground, and you didn’t miss the splatter of red already staining it, somehow, your gaze briefly flicking down toward the body again as if you were piecing things together, already. “Just - Just shut up, okay!?” She practically pleaded with you, and you faltered, as she held the shard up in front of her as if to try and defend herself from you; as if she hadn’t recognised you yet, somehow. “I - I didn’t-.. it wasn’t-.. I-” Her breathing grew steadily heavier and more panicked; raspy, as if she were on the verge of a panic attack as a result of what was going on, here, at this point.

It made you ache, to see her like this. Especially when you knew it was your fault, more than her’s.

“Cynthy, it - it’s okay, I-.. It’s fine,” you cooed gently, inching closer to her slowly, but surely, her hands shaking as she watched you, her eyes wide, and bottom lip trembling as she tried not to break down any further then she already had, somehow. “Everything’s okay,” you continued softly, “everything’s gonna be okay, I promise, I-.. I’m here for you; I love-” You winced, realising the words had almost escaped your lips again. But fuck it, you wanted nothing more, but to do everything you could, for her. “I love you, Cynthia,” you managed weakly, and she didn’t know what to do as she tensed up, not sure how to explain how she felt in that moment, her heart still pounding against her rib cage as you carefully eased the shard from her fingers, before chucking it back onto the ground where it was, before. “I’m here, baby, a-and I’ll - I’ll always be here, I promise, I-.. I’ll never leave you, okay?” You whispered, as you affectionately connected your forehead to her own, all whilst she subconsciously clung to you, pressing her face into the crook of your neck as she sniffled barely audibly, her body shaking against your own as if she were a deer stuck in headlights, somehow. “I love you, okay?” You repeated delicately, and she tried not to nod, not sure what to believe anymore, by now.

“Why - Why are you doing this?” She asked, her voice cracking as she held you at arm’s length, a little speck of blood on her right cheek. “Y/n-”

“Cynthy-”

“Why?” She pressed, and her voice broke you, small as it was during that moment in time.

“You know why-”

“Bullshit,” she spat, through gritted teeth, before she made to begin pulling her jeans back on, and it was then that you remembered the state she was in, and your heart skipped a beat, but you weren’t the type to hurt her like they would; you couldn’t, and even thinking about how the others would do so made the pain hurt even more than it ever had, before.

“I love you, Cynthy - I - I always have, I-.. I’ve never not loved you, okay? I - I was just scared of what you might think, if I-”

“It’s too late,” she uttered, though it pained her to make such a claim, her heart aching as she stared solemnly back at you, her heart pounding steady within her chest again, “I don’t want you anymore, okay? I never-.. you’re nothing to me, a-and that’s never gonna change, now. Just - let me live my life, and I’ll let you get on with your’s, whatever you decide to do with it.” She meandered around you, but she stopped briefly at the opening of the alleyway, the fingers of her right hand trailing along the wall subconsciously as if she were still deciding whether she should stay, or not, regardless of what had just happened, a brief moment ago now. “Oh yeah,” she continued a little harder, while her voice sounded a tad bit brighter than before, despite the way it cracked toward the end of her sentence, “say ‘hi’ to Stella from me, will you? Thanks.”

And with that, she was gone, and you’d never felt so lost before.

🜚🜸🜚

“You’re kind of beautiful,” Cynthia remarked a little teasingly as she leaned heavily, but no less composed, against the student bar, the girl to her right raising her eyebrows as she smirked a little cockily back at her.

“Kind of?” She questioned, and Cynthia giggled softly, bowing her head for a brief moment as she - maybe a tad bit suggestively? - brushed her hips against the counter once or twice.

“Sure, for the purposes of tonight - maybe you are,” she began again, and the girl appeared a little skeptical of her, her smile fading a little, as Cynthia winced, realising she might be doing the whole ‘seductive badass’ thing wrong, at this point, “what do you think you are?”

“I-.. need to go and meet someone, sorry,” the girl answered a little dismissively, before she quickly disappeared back into the crowd of people behind her.

Cynthia sighed, not sure what to do as she looked around a little apprehensively, waiting for someone else she could try her new game on. It did hurt her, though, to think in such a way; to think she was just trying to rid herself of the emptiness, so she tried not to think at all about it, her eyes glinting when she noticed Shona enter the bar after the previous girl had gone out before her. She didn’t need to think much, making to go over to her, until she noticed that she wasn’t - in fact - alone, like she’d hoped she might be.

Her heart dropped when she noticed the red-haired girl who was holding her hand, and she wondered why she’d ever thought that maybe she meant something to her. She gritted her teeth, before bowing her head again, and awkwardly turning back toward the countertop.

“Cynthy.” She faltered, her every defence dropping as your voice rang out behind her. She panicked, her eyes widening as she held you at arms length, her heart pounding uncomfortably against her ribcage.

“Y/n!? What the fuck are you doing here?” She whisper-shouted, and you couldn’t help but smile timidly back at her, your eyes getting so easily lost in her’s as she admired you subconsciously, noticing you were wearing a lot more comfortable attire than she’d ever seen you in, before. “W-What the hell? How is this even happening, right now? Y/n-”

“It’s a long story,” you managed, eventually, and she fell quiet, before nodding slowly, and trying to re-compose herself.

“Okay, well, that-.. that’s - something, I guess? But-..” She lowered her voice, knowing she had to be careful with you here, amongst the others, now - somewhere you and people like yourself were currently hated by most, excluding herself. “C’mon, we can talk through here,” she began again, before leading you hastily out the back door when she hoped nobody was looking, her heart never ceasing to pound over and over again alongside your own, “okay, t-this should be-.. yeah, this should be good.” She looked around awkwardly again, before smiling awkwardly back at you, blood rushing up to her cheeks as she did. “Okay - explain,” she began again a little exasperatedly, “just - make it quick, just in case.”

You appeared a little nervous, and it made her heart skip a beat to see you so scared, like you finally were, now.

“I - I-.. erm-.. I just wanted..” You sighed, and she tilted her head partially, finding herself glancing down at your lips again for a brief moment, before she silently cursed herself for doing so like she had again, as if nothing had happened between you both, not too long ago, now. “Fuck,” you uttered, evidently frustrated at how hard it was to find the right words to share with her, right now, “Cynthy, I-.. I don’t know how else to say this, but-.. I just - I wanted to see you again, okay? I - I can’t stop thinking about you, a-and I don’t know if - if I can do this without you, I just-.. I love you, I - I’ve always-”

“Cynthia?” You both faltered, a worried look on your face as Cynthia looked toward the voice, Shona stood a few paces away from you both.

“Shona? W-What are you-”

“Oh, c’mon, Sony - I’m bored,” another voice chirped and the red-haired girl Cynthia noticed before appeared at Shona’s side. “Who are they?” She inquired, evidently curious, and you grimaced as the girl looked you up and down. “I didn’t think you were planning on having a foursome with these two,” she mused, “I thought-”

“It’s not them,” she reassured her, and Cynthia scowled subconsciously down at the ground, a pained expression on her face, but she guessed Shona didn’t exactly say she intended to do anything more with her, after their first encounter. “It - It’s a couple of the other girls,” she stated, “they’ll join us soon, but-.. it’s - they weren’t-..”

“We’ll go,” Cynthia murmured, but before she could lead you from the passageway, Shona spoke up again.

“You asked about the powder, right?” She asked, and Cynthia faltered, a worried look on her face as she looked back at Shona, you warily watching her with a puzzled expression on your face.

“O-Oh, shit, yeah,” she managed, and Shona dove into her bag, before pulling out a small packet of the familiar drug from their previous session together.

“You can have it free,” she offered, and the red-haired girl looked a little bored, as well as a tad bit offended as she looked over at Shona again, a skeptical look upon her face as if she’d had a different kinda deal, before.

You’d seen other situations like it, before, and they never turned out very well, in the end.

“Shit, thanks, but-.. I-.. I don’t know,” Cynthia responded warily, trying not to glance over at you again, “I-..”

“I want you to have it,” Shona insisted, “you treated me really well, a-and-.. I guess I just wanted to repay you, for that - so-..”

Cynthia couldn’t turn her down, seeing the worried look on her face, but at the same time it scared her to think of hurting you, too, if she accepted the drug. It was a lose-lose situation, anyhow, that was all she could determine, now. She forced a smile, before accepting the bag, your heart sinking as she did. Shona looked relieved, though, smiling sheepishly back at her.

“Thanks - thank you,” she replied timidly, and Shona nodded, before returning her attention to the other girl, who didn’t look as happy as she did, previously. “C’mon,” she encouraged you gently, bag still in her free right hand, “let’s give them some space, huh?”

“Wait-” But you were both out the back door before you could manage any further words after her. “Cynthy,” you began again a little breathlessly as she closed the door behind you both, her eyes glinting a little as she turned to face you again, only making it harder for you to speak than it ever had been, before, “fuck, this is-.. what is this?” You couldn’t let yourself get distracted by the situation at hand, as she smirked over at you, unable to stop herself. “So you’re doing drugs, now?” You guessed, and the pained expression on your face only made her heart ache even more than it ever had before.

It was almost enough for her to want to quit doing it like she had been. Almost.

“N-Not as bad as some others do,” she tried to reassure you, but it still scared you nonetheless, “look, I-”

“You don’t think it’s just bad to be doing it, to any extent?” You interjected a little sharply, and she fell quiet, a hurt look on her face as you sighed heavily, your hands shaking a little as you tried to stay calm for her, though all you wanted to do right now was either break down, die, or shout at her for putting herself in danger like that. You couldn’t figure out which, quite yet, unfortunately. “Cynthy, what - what the fuck are you doing? This - This isn’t at all like you!” You cried, and she couldn’t help, but scoff, tilting her head as she couldn’t help, but hate you just a little for making any such assumptions about her, especially after what had been going on between you both, recently.

“Oh, so you really think you know everything about me, still? Even after-..” She sighed, before shaking her head gravely; she didn’t want to fight with you, not anymore, but you were determined to try and stop these changes somehow, before they could take her away from you like they could, her doing drugs and all, now. “Y’know what? No - I’m not fighting with you, about this, okay? N-Not after everything; it’s my life - I can do whatever I want to do with it, and you can’t stop me from doing what I want to do, okay? I gotta go-”

God, did your heart drop again after that. You scowled, wishing it would stop; you hated being so weak around her, but at the same time you loved everything she made you feel, even in the bad moments. It showed that one of you still cared, at least, and you’d rather care about her than not feel anything at all for her.

“No,” you interrupted determinedly, blocking her way as she had to quickly stop, before she could bump into you again, although the thought of doing so wasn’t as unappealing as it maybe should have been, right then and there, “we are fighting about this, Cynthy - I don’t care what it does, I just want to say it because I want you to know everything I think about you, okay?”

She hesitated, not sure what to do as she subconsciously stared back at you, breathing too quickly than was normal for her to do so, right now.

“Okay,” she began reluctantly, and you tensed up again, not sure where to start, or where to end. The very foundations of your feelings for her seemed to be many, all tied together like a beautiful flower would have its roots, “hit me with it.”

You wished you could, and it was when she looked a little dejected again at your silence that you couldn’t take the pain anymore. You shook your head, before you lifted your right hand timidly up to her left cheek, and she couldn’t help, but melt into your touch, her eyes locking blissfully with your’s again.

“I fucking love you, you idiot,” you admitted a little shakily, and her heart skipped a beat again as you leaned forward to press your lips to her own delicately, and she found she couldn’t take it anymore either as she melted into the kiss, hastily deepening it alongside you as you shuddered against her touch, as she desperately ran her hands up your back beneath your jacket and jumper to find, and fumble clumsily with your bra-strap.

You didn’t want to stop her, so you went along with it, as you made to remove your jacket, her pressing gentle kisses along your neck as you did, before she moved a little sloppier along your jaw. Once you’d finally removed it, you dismissively threw it upon the ground a few paces away from you both, before you eased her back against the wall, and passionately kissed her again, unable to stop yourself like you thought you might be able to do so, before.

Everything about her was just too - tempting, for you. You only stopped for a brief moment to let your gaze meet her own, breathing heavily before her as she stared back at you longingly, whilst trying not to be too pushy, the bag she’d previously had of the powder now on the ground with your jacket, long forgotten, by now. You couldn’t stop the smile as it found its way back onto your lips; you’d missed being closer to her, like you were again, now.

“So you weren’t lying, huh? You really do love me?” She asked, as she affectionately connected her forehead to your own, smiling sheepishly alongside you as her eyes began to glint brighter than the stars ever could again.

“More than anything,” you managed, unable to stop your voice from cracking the way it did, then, but she didn’t criticise you for it - how could she? She found it cute, to say the least, seeing she still had this effect on you, after all this time.

“Good,” she cooed a little playfully, “‘cause otherwise maybe you wouldn’t like me so much, if I handled things a little rougher with you.”

You raised your eyebrows, shamefully intrigued as you grinned back at her, so many questions flooding your mind, only to disappear in thin air whenever her gaze met your’s again the way it did, a brief moment ago.

“Naughty,” you teased, and she giggled softly as she lifted her right hand up to the back of your head, tangling her fingers blissfully within your hair like she had, all those times before, at some point during your and her usual sessions together, leading up to this perfect moment in time, “I honestly can’t believe I never saw this side of you, before.”

She smirked again as she used her left hand to ease your body closer to her’s, allowing her to reach your left ear, just about, without any complications or discomforts whatsoever stopping her from doing so.

“Really? Maybe I should let you see it more often, then,” she mused, her voice close to a little more of a whisper, before she delicately nibbled at the shell of your ear, prompting you to shudder, and forget how to breathe all over again; you’d missed being with her, like you were now. “I missed you,” she admitted sadly, “I-.. I never stopped; I can’t, I-..” Her heart dropped as she allowed her gaze to meet your’s again, and she then realised you were trying not to cry alongside her. “I love you, Y/n,” she whispered, “I’ve always-.. you - you know that, right?”

“I just-.. I wish I told you before, I-..” You sighed dejectedly, and she smiled sadly over at you, before leaning forward to delicately kiss you again. It was slower, this time - less desperate; she wanted to make it last for longer - not just the way it felt, but the moment, in general; it was perfect, being here with you again. After everything; so many losses, and the hurt she felt whenever she thought about you with someone else. She didn’t know how she worked up the courage to do it, as she carefully lowered her right hand down to your left inner thigh. You then pulled out of the kiss, your eyes meeting her’s again as you tried to search for any discomfort within her glossy orbs. “A-Are you sure?” You inquired, wanting to make sure that she was comfortable, before you let her proceed with you.

“I’m more than sure,” she expressed truthfully, her eyes glinting even more with a new determination that you’d never seen from her before, “I - I love you so much, Y/n, I-.. Just - Just let me-..”

She couldn’t bring herself to even finish her sentence, kissing you again as you both held one another closer than you ever had before, as if you had been scared to do so previously without hurting her, somehow. She smiled against your lips, her heart pounding too fast, but it didn’t scare her anymore, not now that you were both here together again. It still scared her, however, whenever she thought about what could happen, if ever she found herself losing you again.

🜚🜸🜚

“You’re hurting me,” she whined, as you playfully roasted what you made up about her - just something you both liked to do sometimes when you were laying under the stars.

It was probably a weird thing to do, but you both loved it nonetheless, almost more than anything else in the world, if it weren’t for you both having one another back in each other’s arms, again - a gift more special than any either of you had ever managed to receive, before.

“Oh, c’mon,” you complained, a smirk playing on your lips as you glanced timidly back at her, your eyes instantly glinting a little more as soon as they locked with her’s again, “you love it; I know you do, baby.”

“Fine,” she gave in, as you pouted over at her, as if you just knew she would react such a way, if you pulled such a move on her to try and get her to do so, “maybe I do, but - n-not as much as you; you’d top everything I can think of, honestly.” You raised your eyebrows, a little flustered as she grinned back at you, her heart pounding too fast within her chest again. “Shit,” she managed, “I only just realised how that sounded, I-.. fuck, sorry-”

“No,” you cooed gently, and she expressed relief as you held her hands comfortably within your own again, “it’s okay; you have nothing to be sorry for - I love you, okay? No matter how dirty your mind can get, sometimes - it’s not as bad as mine, for sure.”

“Right,” she responded a little thoughtfully, as well as exasperatedly, “I, er - I really - shit. I don’t know why, but - it always gets so hard, trying to speak, whenever I want to kiss you, a-and then I try and ask if I can, but - but then-”

You giggled softly, before you leaned forward to delicately connect your lips to her own.

“You’re adorable,” you whispered, and her heart skipped a beat as her eyelids fluttered open again, only to meet your own glittering in response to hers all over again - it was the best feeling in the world, that was all she could be sure of, now, “I - I love you, you - you know that, right? I’ve always-”

She couldn’t help it, as she leaned forward to press her lips to your own again, not too slow deepening the kiss as she wrapped her arms around you again, lifting her right hand up to the back of your head so she could tangle her fingers within your hair again, only making the air feel hotter than it ever did, before, around you both, during this moment in time.

“Fuck, I - I’m so-..” She winced, realising she’d not asked if she could make such a move, but you giggled softly again, and the sound caused her heart to flutter lighter than it ever had before.

“You can do it, baby; you don’t have to be scared,” you reassured her gently, your right hand resting upon her left cheek as she admired your facial features beneath the starlight, wondering what she’d ever done to deserve someone as perfect as she knew you were, more than anything, or anyone in the world, now that she’d finally managed to get you back again, somehow. Sometimes she still thought she was dreaming, and that maybe you were just a figment of her imagination all over again. “C’mon,” you encouraged her sweetly, “don’t tell me you’ve gone shy on me, now-”

But she hadn’t, smirking over at you suggestively, before she passionately kissed you again, and that was when you felt her right hand trailing down to your trousers, and through them again.

🜚🜸🜚

The next day, there was a pep in her step. She didn’t think she’d ever been this happy before, now that she’d got back to you, again. Although, there were times when she found it hard to stay put on the campus of her private college, whenever she found herself thinking about you over and over again, the way she was, now, leaning heavily against the student bar as she tried to distract herself to the best of her ability, hoping maybe you’d sneak back up there, but at the same time she feared still you being caught by the others, and exposed for who you truly are, in comparison to her and the others.

The thought was more than enough for her to will you not to come back up here for her. She sighed, taking another swig of the beer she’d ordered previously, as she made to begin pulling her coat back on again as soon as she set the now empty bottle back down upon the surface of the bar before her. She guessed she should have thought maybe the student bar wouldn’t be the best place for her to hang out, considering Jamie still liked to hang out in there, too, and Cynthia had perhaps stayed a moment too long than she should have done, if she wanted to avoid the girl again.

“Hey, you,” the voice rang out, before she had a chance to even turn around, and acknowledge the figure now stood behind her, subconsciously blocking her way of escaping, by now.

“Oh, h-hey,” Cynthia replied awkwardly, “h-how are you? I haven’t seen you since-..”

“Yesterday?” Jamie suggested, and she winced, remembering how she’d quickly walked away as soon as her gaze fell upon her again.

“Oh,” she murmured timidly, and Jamie raised her eyebrows, even tilting her head a little partially as Cynthia began to panic a little, though she couldn’t imagine why - not yet, anyway. “R-Right, sorry-”

“Y’know, you don’t have to ignore me - you can just tell me you don’t want to see me again, and I’ll leave you alone, but you never really said anything like that,” she mused, and Cynthia tried to ignore her urge to run, the air feeling much too hot around them both, now, “so, y’know, naturally I thought, er-.. maybe you wouldn’t mind me coming up and talking to you for a little while - is that okay, or-?”

She didn’t know what to do; what to even say, as the girl took a seat beside her anyway, smirking in her direction, before she ordered a beer like Cynthia’s previous one, but before she could try and make an escape, the girl harshly gripped her inner left thigh beneath the countertop, effectively freezing her as she found it hard to breathe, not sure how to even think anymore as she begged you silently to come and find her, or else she knew what was to come, and none of it could ever end up being very pretty, like she knew it wouldn’t be, once Jamie insisted she walk back home with her.

🜚

She couldn’t move, shaking a little within one of the alleyways not too far from her home after Jamie had made her do things again. She knew she should have said ‘no’; that she should have at least tried, maybe, but she was terrified of what the girl might do. Jamie wasn’t the type to mess around, and at one point Cynthia even wondered if she had a knife in her right jacket pocket; she seemed to anxiously fidget with it a lot as if wondering if she should take its contents out whenever someone got too close, or Cynthia thought about running again.

“That was great,” Jamie stated simply, grinning down at Cynthia as she began to get herself dressed up again, Cynthia finding she didn’t dare look up at her again as she nodded gravely, finding it too hard to even speak after what had just occurred between the two of them.

“Thanks,” she managed, eventually, and Jamie giggled a little sneeringly, before forcefully gripping at Cynthia’s jaw, and pressing her lips to her own.

There wasn’t even any affection to it; it was just-.. well, there. Cynthia sighed gravely once Jamie pulled away, but the girl didn’t pay any notice to her prey’s change in demeanour, as she got up off of the ground, and simply walked away from her. No wave, no words, no ‘thank yous’ - no nothing. It only made it hurt more, knowing that she’d allowed this to happen between them again, only for such a reaction, and the thought then of returning to you only made it all the more harder to breathe than it ever had been, before.

So instead, she thought her chances better going back home, though it pained her to walk up the hill, instead of going back down again.

🜸

In turn, it terrified you. You didn’t know what to think, when it grew later and later in the day, to the point it got past getting to your and her set cut-off point for meeting one another the way you usually did. You tried not to pace too much, your heart pounding too fast as you looked toward the entrance of the alleyway one final time, before cursing barely audibly, and walking hastily toward where your sheet was still laid down.

Your next actions were full of desperation; anxiety, perhaps, as you crouched down to grab your bag, and sling it over your right shoulder, before you warily looked around, and decided finally that something must be wrong, and you had to go out and find her, somehow. Luckily, it didn’t take you very long, as you looked into the dark alleyways you passed, before coming upon one that looked like it had been used recently, minor stains on the ground, as well as what looked like a small hint of blood mixed with whatever other fluids were there.

You didn’t dare ponder on it for too long, but you did remember Cynthia saying she’d been having to use the regular pads and tampons whatever they were officially called recently, only making your heart drop steadily faster as you pressed yourself to walk further up the hill, hoping that if she weren’t in the next few alleyways, that she’d be at her house, maybe. You were blissfully mistaken. Well, she was at her house, but she was outside of it, and your heart skipped a beat as soon as you noticed her sat upon the front step of the porch, leading up to their front door.

“Cynthy?” You managed, your voice cracking a little, and she faltered as soon as she noticed you, her eyes glinting, until something made her smile falter, before she bowed her head again. “Hey,” you cooed gently, as you warily approached her, small daisies you’d picked for her along the way nearly cradled between the fingers of your right hand. “A-Are you-?”

“You-.. You shouldn’t be here,” she began dejectedly, and you faltered alongside her, a pained expression on your face. It only made her feel worse, even when she wasn’t looking up at you the way she was trying not to, right now, not wanting you to see that she was on the verge of breaking down, again, for a reason still currently unbeknownst to you, at this point. “Y/n, if - if anyone sees you-”

“I don’t care about what they want to do to me,” you reassured her determinedly, and her heart stuttered at the confidence within your voice, making it all the more harder for her to not meet your gaze, right now, “baby, I-.. I was worried about you, I - I thought - I thought that maybe you-.. y’know.”

You appeared a little embarrassed, and she couldn’t help, but smile softly up at you for a brief moment, though it pained her to see the worried look currently residing upon your face, alongside her own, now.

“I scared you, huh?” She guessed, and your heart skipped a beat again as you awkwardly rubbed your right arm using your slightly trembling still left hand, only making the love she held for you harder to contain as she timidly got up off of the step, her eyes never leaving your’s, now.

“Of course you did,” you answered simply, “Cynthy, I-.. we usually meet today, and stuff - why wouldn’t you showing up not scare me?” She hesitated, lingering timidly before you as you tried not to reach out, and ease her body close to your own, afraid that maybe that wouldn’t be what she wanted, if you tried to do so. “Look, I just - I thought I’d check up on you, okay?” You mustered up, eventually, and she wondered if the air was still hot, or if blood was rushing up to her cheeks again in response to such a statement.

“You’re too good to me - you know that, right?” She murmured dejectedly, and your heart dropped when you heard her voice trembling a little. “E-Even when I-..” She stopped, not sure if she should tell you about what had occurred between her and Jamie, or not, but she guessed she could try; that it would be better for you to know, wouldn’t it? “Y/n, I-”

“Shit, Cynthy, thank god you’re still up, I just realised I still have your-” Jamie fell quiet, noticing you both together, and your heart dropped again as you reluctantly turned to face her, before glancing quizzically back at Cynthia, as if you were still trying to figure things out, somehow. “Who’s that? I don’t know them from campus - at least, I don’t think I do,” she mused, and Cynthia didn’t know what to do, silently begging you to stay as her heart pounded uncomfortably within her chest alongside your own, but you didn’t know what to do, your heart aching even more when you noticed Jamie holding Cynthia’s phone in her right hand.

“What’s going on, Cynth?” You asked, though part of you wondered if you even wanted to know what had happened, before now, at this point.

Cynthia stammered a little, not sure what to do, say, or even think. She just allowed her gaze to meet your’s, but it still hurt more than anything ever had, before, to feel like she was close to losing you like she felt as if she was, somehow, all over again.

“Y/n-”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I know for a fact it doesn’t concern me, so - y’know,” Jamie mused, rather loudly, as you scoffed, before scowling in her direction as she meandered around you widely to return Cynthia’s phone to her, and the way the girl looked at you. It made you burn, much too deeply. You grimaced, before shaking your head, but things only got worse from there, as Jamie grinned over at Cynthia, before pressing a kiss to her cheek; you clearly missed how it made Cynthia wince, to be so close to her again the way she was, now.

She could never have such a reaction to you, and she wished she could have found the right words to say, as you bowed your head in response to such a sight as the kiss had been, things growing too clear than the sun or moon could ever be, to you, as you drew in a barely audible shaky breath, before pressing yourself to walk back down the pathway, Jamie shrugging obliviously as well as a little smugly as you did.

“No,” Cynthia managed feebly, her voice sounding a lot more strained than it did before as she hastily meandered around Jamie to rush after you; she couldn’t let you go, especially not like this, without you knowing that she loved you, more than anything else that she could think of, right now.

She just wished the words she needed right now would stop getting stuck, the way they were, especially when she caught your arm, and saw that you were trying not to cry, again.

“Cynth-?” You managed, your voice close to an almost choked sounding whisper, tearing her apart somehow even more than the situation already had, before.

It was a confirmation - that was all she could tell, now. You were still trying to find a way out from believing otherwise, only to fail each time you did exactly that, breaking yourself down even more than you ever had, before, to think about how things had been, before now; how you’d finally been happy together again, as if things were finally clicking into place, only for Jamie to come back and shatter everything to pieces, again.

She couldn’t do it; she couldn’t lie to you, again. The words slipped out faster than any others ever had, before, and you knew one way or another when you heard them that you were right; she’d been intimate with Jamie again, either against her will, or with much agreement toward it.

🜚

You hadn’t stuck around to find out, shaking your head gravely as your face crumpled a little as soon as her apology had registered within you. She tried to wrap her arms around you, desperate not to lose you again, but you’d slipped away, even before she could allow your name to slip her lips again. Ever since that moment, you didn’t know what to do with yourself, cursing yourself for crying as you kept your head low, walking slowly back down the hill again, toward your decrepit home.

It was for a few brief moments that you wondered what might have been, if you decided not to save Cynthia that night. You wondered if things would ever hurt less, the way they broke you down continuously, now. You wondered if you should have stayed; should have let her explain, but what would the point have been? It would still hurt, nonetheless, and you knew you’d blame yourself either way, your heart aching as you tried not to think about her the way you were, before, wishing you could hold her close to you again.

But you guessed it should have been obvious to you, that eventually you’d convince yourself to turn back, not wanting to leave things between you both the way you had, before.

🜸

“Get off me,” Cynthia spat through gritted teeth as Jamie made to wrap her arms around the girl’s waist again.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be like that, now,” she complained in a whiny voice, as if she were more innocent than the Jamie Cynthia knew, and hated (or feared, perhaps?) since the night she had been abandoned by her within the girls’ toilets of the student bar, not too long ago, now. “Cynthy,” she continued as Cynthia managed to push her away, scowling feebly over at her as if she were only just managing to hold herself together, right now.

“And - And stop calling me that,” she continued sharply, “y’know, I - I never said you could - ever, so-.. stop - please!”

“I thought you said you like me calling you that,” Jamie cooed suggestively, and Cynthia winced, a pained expression on her face as the girl inched closer to her, a mischievous spark forming within her eyes.

“N-No, I - I didn’t - when did I-?” She faltered, remembering how Jamie had led her hastily into the toilet again one of the nights she had lost her sense of self again. She grunted, before stepping back a little, but Jamie was insistent, grinning obliviously from ear to ear as she lifted her right hand up to Cynthia’s left cheek, and she didn’t know what to do, a pained expression on her face as she wished none of her last stands had even occurred, the way that they did. “That - That’s not fair - Jamie-”

“You said it,” she reminded her, and there were dangerous undercurrents within her voice that terrified Cynthia all over again, “don’t try and act like I’m stupid, or something; I heard you, regardless of whether or not it was the drugs or drink talking.”

That alarmed her; she had no recollection of taking any drugs whatsoever, that night, and Jamie had also looked a little worried when the word had slipped her lips.

“Drugs? I wasn’t on drugs that night, w-what are you-?” She fell quiet again, and Jamie anxiously looked around, as if waiting for someone to pounce on her for her previous behavioural habits. “Did - Did you drug me?” She questioned, her voice sounding smaller than before as her heart dropped even further, somehow, and Jamie winced, avoiding eye contact completely with her, now. “Jamie,” Cynthia commanded, her voice a little stronger though it still sounded strained, but still the girl wouldn’t give into her. “Tell me - did, or did you not drug me that night?” She pried, a little more desperately now, and Jamie tried to meander around her, uttering ‘fuck this’ under her breath, but Cynthia wouldn’t let her go without an answer, grabbing the girl’s right arm, before she eased her back to where she was, before. “You’re telling me the truth, right now,” she stated, crossing her arms as she tried to keep her breathing under control, eyeing suspiciously the girl before her, now. “So what’ll it be, huh? Are you going to actually tell me, or are you going to leave here and have me just immediately come to the conclusion that you did drug me?” She inquired, skeptical, and Jamie looked a little more fearful, now, rubbing her right arm as she looked anywhere, but up at Cynthia, at this point.

She knew she didn’t exactly need an answer, the girl looking guilty as sin, but still it would be nice to have some form of confirmation, right?

“W-What would you do, if - if I left, and you thought that?” She asked, her voice briefly trembling, now, as if her mask was giving way to the rest of her that Cynthia hadn’t got to know, yet - not that she’d even want to, now that she was even more aware of how much of a monster the girl had been to her, before, as well.

“Oh, y’know - probably just go back inside and act like nothing happened for the rest of my life,” she answered sarcastically, and Jamie rolled her eyes, recognising this instantly of the girl before her, “what the fuck do you think I’d do, Jamie? It’s not right to drug people! I’d talk - you know I would.”

“And risk your reputation as well as mine?” Jamie questioned, and Cynthia hesitated, her expression faltering a little as she thought about another way; how she could avoid being found out for who she truly was, without letting Jamie get away with her indecency, somehow.

“I could tell them you raped me,” she mused, and Jamie raised her eyebrows, before scoffing, “because you technically did - what would you do, then?”

She had caught her, Jamie awkwardly shuffling on the spot as the girl tried to find a way out of this moment, her heart pounding too quickly within her chest as Cynthia patiently waited an answer from her, thinking of anything further that she could incriminate the girl with, possibly, just to get her off her back, at this point, for your sake as much as her own.

“I guess we’d have to see,” she answered a little apprehensively, “I could pay you? My dad could write a cheque, a-and then-”

“I don’t want your money,” Cynthia spat, “I want you to be honest with me, for once! You still haven’t answered my question - you realise that, right? It’s not hard, Jamie; I just want to know what you did to me, that night! So what did you do, hm? And don’t think of trying to backtrack, now, because there was no reason for you to bring up drugs like that, before; I told you I’d never done them when you asked me - I remember that, so what did you do to me? Huh? What the fuck did you do!?”

She was losing her patience, that was for sure. She could easily take a step closer to Jamie, and shove her the way she wished she could, right now, but she didn’t want to hurt her like that; she didn’t want to hurt anyone like that, even for this. Especially when Jamie scared her the way she did, before. She also just didn’t want to think about how maybe she’d regret it, if she did it, in more ways than one. Jamie sighed, before nodding gravely, as if accepting her fate at this point for a reason unbeknownst to either of them.

“I spiked your drink,” she admitted, reluctantly, and Cynthia’s heart sank again, “okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Why?” She questioned, her voice close to a whisper, now, as the air grew too hot around them both again.

“Because I wanted to make it easier to have fun with you,” the girl clarified, and Cynthia scowled subconsciously over at her, gritting her teeth, before she let herself go - just a bit - shoving Jamie, as the two stared over at one another, both breathing too heavily, right now, for the conversation to appear anything, but normal to you, as you slowly inched closer to the household again, a worried look on your face as you wondered if Jamie would hurt Cynthia for having such a reaction to her.

“I hate you,” she uttered, her voice trembling again as small tears threatened to leak from her now glistening orbs again, “I - I should - I should never have-”

“What’s going on out there?” A familiar voice rang out from within the house, and your heart faltered for a moment as you realised her dad must have been awoken by the commotion, and would soon most likely have her incriminated again if he saw her with Jamie, right now.

The two fell quiet alongside you, Cynthia anxiously looking toward each row of windows at the front of the house, but none of them were open; he was angry enough to be able to shout that clearly through them - that much was clear to her, right now. You got an idea; you didn’t think it was a good one, but it could do, for now. You quickly ducked down before the fence and bushes before the gate leading up to their porch, and performed your best triggered cat impression that you could, right now.

It must have been enough to clear him off, for now, as he turned the light that had been on for a brief moment behind one of the front windows - the one to the furthest left - off again, saying something inaudible that sounded like he was cursing something for being in existence, despite it not truly being there like you’d made him think it was. Apparently, it was good enough too to fool Cynthia and Jamie, alongside him, as Cynthia expressed relief, and Jamie looked too to have relaxed a bit more than she was, before.

You yourself certainly felt a bit better than you had, when the idea first struck you; it was certainly quite a risky one, in that he could either not believe your act, or the others would have exposed you for it, as well. You did prefer one idea more than the other, however, though it pained you still to think about being closer to Cynthia again after what had previously happened between you both, a brief moment ago, now.

“What was that you were saying-?” Jamie questioned, as Cynthia let go of her after she had pressed the girl against the wall just in case her father looked out the window, and saw the two together like they were, now.

“Shut up,” Cynthia uttered, evidently annoyed, “you know what I was trying to do-”

“Do I?” She asked, and Cynthia rolled her eyes, before subconsciously moving away as Jamie tried to get too close to her again.

“I can’t believe you’re still trying,” she remarked, and Jamie smirked over at her, pressing her hands to her hips as she watched the girl before her grimacing down at the ground, as if it disgusted her even to look over at Jamie after all that had happened between them both, recently, especially now that she’d effectively driven you away from her again, like she thought that the girl had, by now, your presence still unknown to her, currently, even after your little cat fight impression had occurred, a brief moment ago, now.

“Why would you think I was? Do you want me to?” Jamie further questioned, and Cynthia rolled her eyes, before turning to face the girl sharply, a more determined look on her face, by now.

“No,” she stated simply, and Jamie tried to avoid appearing disappointed by such a response from her, “look, maybe - maybe you should go. I can’t do this anymore - not-.. not with you, okay? Especially-.. not-.. not now.”

“Oh c’mon - all I did was spike you,” she complained, “that doesn’t mean I’m all bad, right? People have done worse, before-”

“Yeah, but-.. forget it, just - leave me alone, okay?” Cynthia retorted, before meandering around Jamie, but the girl didn’t feel like being done with her just yet, as she caught Cynthia’s right arm a little forcefully, before easing her back toward her as if she’d not yet made it clear what she wanted from Jamie, by now.

“That’s not fair, Cynthy,” the girl complained, as she tightly held Cynthia against her, her arms wrapped around her waist as Cynthia didn’t know what to do, a little scared as the girl breathed heavily upon the back of her neck, before brushing her lips against it as if nothing was wrong anymore like it was, before.

“Stop!” She cried, struggling desperately against Jamie. “Please, I - This - This isn’t-”

“You seriously think you can just get rid of me, huh?” She continued a little more roughly as she smirked against her prey, lowering her right hand dangerously close toward the opening of her jeans again. “You’re nothing, Cynthia,” she remarked, and Cynthia tried not to react as her hand got ever closer; she couldn’t let the girl get away with her behaviour, again, not like she had last time, and the other couple of times before that they had been together, the way that they were, before this moment in time, “do you hear me? Nothing.”

“Screw you,” she spat, but the girl just laughed, and just when she thought Jamie would try and violate her again, you came out of hiding, and managed to knock her out on the spot with the blunt side of the shiv you often brought around with you, the way you were as well, now, in that case.

Cynthia expressed relief upon feeling that Jamie was no longer holding her, before she winced, realising she could still be in danger, and turned around only to find you wrapping your arms around her as you sniffled barely audibly into the crook of her neck, not sure what to do with yourself anymore. She guessed she didn’t either, as she returned your embrace, crying quietly alongside you as you both tried to comfort one another again, Jamie’s body laying at your and her feet as you shook together, but you knew you should both come around again, soon, especially now that you had a still warm body on your hands.

🜚

You didn’t know what to say anymore, as you both carried the body down hill, fearing every second of the moment could bring around Jamie’s waking up, and realisation of what had just happened to her, again. You kept your head low, not daring to look over at Cynthia, no matter how much it pained to do so. She couldn’t take the silence, her heart aching as she tried to meet your gaze, but you didn’t dare allow yourself to even look up anymore, not when you didn’t need to, anyway.

You drew in a barely audible shaky breath, your heart pounding much too fast alongside her own as she tried not to break down again, her hands beginning to tremble steadily as she desperately tried not to even breathe or sniffle too loudly, though she couldn’t imagine why. You tensed up whenever you heard a fox cry; she relaxed when the animal revealed itself, before running away from you both.

“Not too far, now,” you mused, and she faltered upon hearing your voice again, her heart skipping a beat as she timidly glanced over at you, her eyes glinting as she silently begged for you to meet her gaze again. “D’you wanna stop, now, and let me take her the rest of the way?” You inquired, briefly looking over at her, but it was too painful to allow your eyes to lock with her own for too long, so you didn’t know what else to do, but look back down toward the ground again, only making it all the more harder to breathe for you, as well as her alongside you, but what else could you do to stop yourself from breaking down when you wanted more than anything to stay strong for her, somehow?

“No; I can continue - I know I can,” she uttered a little dismissively, though it pained her to do so, especially when she noticed how your expression faltered a little in response to the tone she’d subconsciously picked up a brief moment ago, now, but she didn’t know how else to react, or feel, after what had happened between you both not too long ago, now, with you leaving like you had before knocking Jamie out like that. She guessed she understood why you did it, but it still hurt, nonetheless, to think you couldn’t even stay around to allow her to explain herself the way that you did, earlier. “I don’t know why you even care at this point, anyway,” she murmured, and you stopped, a hurt look on your face as you glanced back over at her, your eyes glistening a little, now, only making the pain spread out more as she wished she could throw her arms around you again, but she didn’t want to give into you too easily - not yet, anyway. “I mean-.. why even come back for me, if-?” Her voice cracked a little, and you didn’t know what to do; you hadn’t felt so lost before as you hastily shook your head, and made to begin lowering Jamie’s body, but Cynthia wouldn’t do so alongside you, instead taking up the rest of her, before she continued slowly down the hill after meandering awkwardly around you.

“Cynthy-” She didn’t stop, scowling as she tried to fight back the last of her tears, but you didn’t want her to think that you didn’t care about her, because all you’d ever done ever since you’d first met her was care; love, even, and you certainly knew you’d thought about her more than you’d ever spared a thought for anyone else, before. “Baby, stop, please,” you begged, but she didn’t dare, until you caught her arm, and she felt anything, but confident again.

“No,” she spat, as she pulled her arm from your grasp, before laying Jamie upon the ground again, “y’know what? Fuck you - I hate you, okay? I’ve always hated you, e-ever since we first-..”

She winced, before bowing her head to try and hide the remaining tears from you, but you knew her too well by now to just give in like that, as you inched closer to her, your heart threatening to drop again with every step you took to get to her. You didn’t think it would take her any longer to step back, the way it did, when you decided to try and tell her everything again.

“C-Cynth, no, please - I - I didn’t mean-”

“Stop!” She cried, and you did, not sure what else to do as you stared after her hopelessly, feeling everything shattering within you the way it did, before. “You - You don’t get to try and - to try and do this again; I hate you,” she spat, and you nodded gravely, your eyes darkening as she wished she could stop; wished she could tell you everything she wished she could do so, right now, but she didn’t know what else to do anymore; what to even think, as she drew in a barely audible shaky breath, avoiding meeting your gaze again no matter how much she missed being able to do so, before, without it hurting her, all over again, the way it did before. “Let me get something straight, okay? I’ll never do a single thing for you again, after today; if you pay for my silence, I’ll scream. If you beg me to speak, I’ll sew my mouth shut,” she hissed, and you knew she meant it, as you nodded slowly again, avoiding eye contact with her once more, no matter how much it pained you to do so, right now.

“Okay,” you managed faintly, and her heart skipped a beat as she tried to blink back the tears further, somehow, her hands trembling a little again as she tried to swallow the lump within her throat, only to fail miserably as you tried not to break down again, thinking about anything, but how you were on the verge of losing her so easily, all over again, “that-.. that’s fine, I can-.. I can do that-.. I just.. I just wanted-”

“I don’t care about whatever it is you might want anymore, Y/n,” she interjected, though that wasn’t entirely true; none of what she had been saying so far was, and that was what hurt the most, aside from the fact that it was hurting you to hear such claims from her, with everyone being made, and directed half-heartedly toward you the way that they were being done, before.

“I understand, Cynthy; of course I do, but - but baby, please, I - just let me-”

“What did I just tell you?” She retorted a little more bitterly, like salt to a freshly opened wound. Your heart sank again as you didn’t know what to do; what to say; how to even breathe anymore as you nodded again a little more rapidly, your heart beating too fast again as you wondered if you were on the verge of having a panic attack, perhaps, it getting too hard for you to compose yourself anymore during this moment in time as you begged her silently to stop; to hold you close to her again, but you knew you didn’t deserve her care anymore - maybe you never did, so at the same time you wondered if you should just collapse, and die - maybe doing so for her would only help more; she wouldn’t have to deal with your bullshit ever again, and part of you just knew you’d do anything, to see her smiling again, the way she did a lot more, before. “I don’t ever want to see you again, okay? Do not push me any further than you already have, now, or I’ll make sure you regret every part of us - no matter what,” she warned, and you found you couldn’t think anymore, your breathing pattern growing to be too erratic as she narrowed her eyes over at you, trying to fight back the sense of dread that formed within her, her heart beginning to pound too fast alongside your own as she slowly inched closer to you, silently cursing herself for not being more careful with you, before. “Y/n? Hey, what - what are you-?” She inquired, her voice briefly trembling as you shook your head hastily, backing away though you couldn’t imagine why; you just were scared of losing control of yourself somehow; of breaking down again, and only hurting her even more as you tried to stop yourself from falling, leaning heavily against the wall to your left as if you were depending on it more than you’d ever depended on anything else, before. “Hey,” she continued again, this time a little more urgently, but even your hearing was beginning to grow fuzzy as she couldn’t take it anymore, holding you at arm’s length as her now wide eyes searched your’s desperately for any sign of what might be the problem at hand, here, but you couldn’t speak, your tongue feeling too heavy, and body feeling too numb as she begged you to say something; anything, but before either of you knew it, your vision was growing darker, and for a moment you felt like you could fly, before you crumpled into her arms, and fell for her all over again.

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed it, and are looking forward to the next one! I also just wanted to say Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year! All your support means a lot to me, and I hope that we have an even better year ahead of all of us! Thank you, again, and I look forward to seeing you all again soon for the next bits of writing I have planned, but this is a wrap on the year for now in terms of my creative mindset, and unfortunately a peace out from me, until then! Happy Yuletide, guys! ❤️

[yourdeepestfathoms]

As Tough As Diamonds, As Fragile As Glass

a character study on Bessie and her trauma.

whoops im away from home and my computer so can’t add the “read more” but i don’t want to wait so sorry y’all

TW: Panic attacks, mentioned/implied CSA, pedophilia, and rape

———————

Right from the get go, Bessie knew she was going to be the “mom friend” of the ladies in waiting. She expected this, though, and took up the role with open arms. This meant she had to be the strong one, and she was, but, sometimes, old memories came back with so much power she couldn’t fight back.

It happened during a rehearsal before the shows started. Bessie had just finished playing a part from one of the songs, which everyone clapped and cheered for.

“Great job, Lizzie!” Cleves praised and, although she meant well, something snapped in Bessie’s chest.

That was the name Henry used to groom her with. He would coo it in her ear as he caressed her quivering thighs, purr and croon it while he kneaded her budding breasts. Her never stopped unless she mewled for him like a hungry kitten.

The feeling of phantom fingers dance across her body and Bessie’s bass clatters to the ground.

Bessie reeled backwards in a surge of adrenaline, bumping into a few things until she was pressed against the wall. One hand grips tightly at her chest, which has tightened into several knots. Her throat closes up and she suddenly felt so, so vulnerable.

She could feel her breaths shortening and she dug her heels back into the tile floor, trying to ground herself in any way possible. This was not the time to break down. She had a job to do.

By now, the others have noticed, especially when Bessie started to gasp and wheeze. Seeing the bassist like this, pale and shivering, felt so wrong.

“Bessie?” Jane was in front of her. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

No I’m not ‘alright!’ Does it look like I’m alright?! Bessie’s thoughts screamed, but a second voice overtook the sarcastic one.

You ruined her life

It wasn’t Jane the voice was referring to, though. Bessie didn’t dare look at the golden queen in question.

“Hey, easy,” Jane murmured, hands reached out to help steady the bassist.

“No!” Bessie exclaimed, jerking back and attempting to get up so she could go somewhere else to calm down and look at the situation rationally, but her legs were weak, and she stumbled before falling to the ground on all fours.

Immediately, Cleves was next to her and then Jane. The others huddled around her, whispering and gasping and bouncing theories off of each other. Bessie stared intently at Aragon’s shoes before shutting her eyes tightly.

You did this to Her

“Bessie?” Jane’s voice came from in front of her, but Bessie could barely make it out. “Bessie, can you hear me? You need to breathe, love. Can you do that for me? Breathe.”

Breathe? Wow, I never thought of that! Bessie thought because she didn’t have the air to say it.

“Bessie?” Jane tried again when Bessie doesn’t react, “Come on, love. You can do it. Breathe.”

“No,” Bessie whispered in a voice so weak and soft it was startling to hear come from her, “Can’t- Henry-”

A few of the queens tensed up.

You wanted it

Guilt came back strong. Bessie gave into the blind panic and felt her entire body seize up.

You ruined Her life

She began wheezing out ‘I’m sorry’s in between frantic gasps and her chest was tight so, so tight, and in front of her, Cleves steps in to grab her arms, trying to tell her to breathe but in that moment, Bessie needed to apologize more than she needed to breathe, and the apologies were spilling out on top of each other. Her lungs were screaming for air, but she needed to apologize or things would somehow get worse because she knew that was how it always worked.

At this point, she could feel herself shaking like a leaf, and she never felt more pathetic.

How can you break down in front of Her after what you did?

Why did she care so much? Why did she care about Aragon? Aragon left her when she needed her the most. Aragon gave up on her. Aragon blamed her for everything.

They hated each other.

And yet, Bessie was still trying to force herself to apologize for her trauma. Because, deep down, she knew her own fears and suffering didn’t matter.

Cleves’ hands cupped her cheeks, wiping away her tears, and Bessie realized she was crying on top of everything.

“Bessie, please, focus on me,” Cleves said gently.

“It was me,” Bessie gasped, opening her eyes and staring at the floor, at Cleves’ knees, Jane’s feet, because she didn’t deserve to look any of them in the eyes. “I-”

Tell them

“I’m trying,” She said, her chest seizing up.

“I don’t know what you’re saying, but it’s not important,” Cleves said, trying to catch her eyes. “Breathe, Bessie, breathe with me.”

“No, I-” Bessie stuttered, continuing to hyperventilate and feel more pathetic by the second. She had to say it. She had to wallow in the humiliation of what she did. “Henry- Affair- it was me.”

Cleves’ hands, wiping away her tears, went still.

“You- what?”

The bassist says nothing as she completely broke down into painful sobs, unable to breathe, unable to speak, squeezing her eyes shut before opening them again.

Her arms were numb, yet she still felt incredibly hot, and this was how she was going to die, wasn’t it?

You deserve it.

She shook her head again, feeling dizzy.

And then Jane’s hands were on her shoulders and Cleves is ducking her head to try and make eye contact, but the ceiling lights were too bright and all Bessie could hear was the thumping of her heart and her panicked breaths, and everything was buzzing, and the last thing she saw was Aragon’s face.

———

Her head was pounding. That was the first thing she registered. The second thing was the deep throb in her chest and then that she was lying down.

What happened?

Bessie groaned and immediately regretted it. Yup, she definitely had a headache. She tried to open her eyes, struggling slightly because of the overhead lights. A distance away, there was a gasp. Footsteps approached. Fingers touched her shoulder. A familiar voice.

“Elizabeth?” She opened her eyes and Lady Jane Seymour’s face was above hers, “How are you feeling?”

“What happened?” Bessie croaked.

“You had a really bad panic attack and passed out, love.” Jane informed gently.

Right. It all came back to her. Bessie closed her eyes again, taking a moment to wallow in her own humiliation and self-hatred for what went down.

“God, I’m sorry.”

“We’ll talk in a second,” Jane said, voice still gentle and warm, even when talking to her. “Can you sit up?”

Instead of replying, Bessie tried to push herself up on her arms, only making it halfway. She still felt incredibly weak, but before she could say anything, Jane was helping her into a better position. The touch made Bessie shudder.

The quietness that followed was tense and thick in the air. Jane passed over a water bottle, which Bessie took gratefully.

“I’m really sorry.” Bessie whispered hoarsely. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay, love. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Jane assured her, gently rubbing the bassist’s shoulder.

That felt like a punch to the gut. But why? Shouldn’t forgiveness be a good thing? While pondering this, the others file in, much to Bessie’s dismay.

The other ladies in waiting look simultaneously worried and relieved, with Maggie clearly being way more anxious than Joan and Maria. The cousins had curious looks, while Parr and Cleves were genuinely concerned. Aragon’s expression was unreadable.

“Are you okay?” Maggie asked. There was an anxious look in her eyes.

“Yes,” Bessie grunted, pressing the heel of her palm to her temple. “Don’t worry about me. Just give me a moment.”

“You passed out, Bessie,” Parr informed and Bessie had to bite back a snide remark. “We’re going to worry.”

“What happened, anyway?” Anne asked, “I didn’t think anything could crack you.”

Parr elbows Anne in the ribcage for that one.

Bessie’s ears burn bright red, but, luckily, it’s hidden by her hair. She bows her head a little, sighing to mask her anxiety with agitation.

“It was that name.” She finally said, cursing at how shaky her voice was.

“Lizzie?” Katherine pipes up and Bessie winced.

“Yes.”

“You used to love being called that.” Aragon mused, like she was trying to find a way to deny the bassist’s fear. Whatever Bessie had been feeling towards her during the panic attack was now gone, replaced by the usual hatred she felt for the first queen.

“Yeah, well things change.” Bessie snaps back with barely contained rage, “I just- I don’t like it okay? It’s the name Henry used to groom me with...”

The room went silent.

“Oh, and that’s so terrible?” Aragon said, “After all, he loved you.”

“I was thirteen.” Bessie spat and she almost felt pride in the shocked reactions she got. “Shut your damn mouth, Catalina, because you don’t know anything.”

Silence.

Then, Cleves speaks up.

“I’m going to talk to her for a moment.”

After everyone filed out of the room, the red queen sat down next to her friend.

“Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Bessie laughed dryly, putting her head in her hands. “I keep thinking he’s- No. It’s selfish.”

“No it’s not.”

“I didn’t marry him. I’m not some seventh queen who suffered like the rest of you. It doesn’t-” Bessie sighed heavily, “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.” Cleves said firmly, “Who cares if you weren’t a queen? He still hurt you.”

Bessie is quiet for a moment, peeking up at Cleves, who sets a hand on top of hers, squeezing comfortingly. She sighed again.

“Catalina gave me the nickname.” The bassist started, her lips twitching into a ghost of a smile, “I loved it. So much better than Bessie. I actually stopped going by Bessie for awhile,” She said that part with a small laugh, making Cleves laugh as well, “But...”

The smile fell.

“When Henry and I got together, he used to groom me. Always telling me how beautiful I was, always touching me...” Bessie closed her eyes and swallowed thickly. “We- we had a lot of sex, I’m ashamed to say. I hated that I wanted it at first, hated that I thought it was just a sweet gesture and that he loved me, but- but then it just got more rough.” She has to stop a moment, scrubbing her hands over her eyes to get rid of the tears. Then, is a hoarse whisper she says, “Oh god, Anna, it hurt. It hurt so much. I felt like I was being ripped open.”

Worry sparks in Cleves’ eyes, along with anger and disgust. This was just another reason why she wanted to go back in time and beat the hell out of Henry. However, right now, she wanted nothing more than to take Bessie into her arms and hold her and keep any other bad thoughts from entering her head.

“I’ve tried to handle it,” Bessie continued, “I’ve done good. I just- I can’t act like this. I’m not supposed to.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Bessie.” Cleves told her, squeezing her hand.

Bessie clenches her jaw, but then relaxed. She doesn’t say anything else, so Cleves speaks again.

“I’m sorry,” The queen said, “I shouldn’t have said that name.”

“Not your fault,” Bessie said, not raising her head from where it was angled towards the ground, “You didn’t know.”

Cleves nodded slowly.

“Can I hug you?”

“...That’d be nice.”

Bessie couldn’t help but lean into the arms that wrapped around her. She rests her pounding head against Cleves’ own, letting her fear and anxiety ebb away slightly.

“Can I call you Libbie?”

“What?”

“Libbie,” Cleves repeated, “You know, as a nickname. I understand if it’s too close to the other one, though.”

“No,” Bessie said quickly. She smiled a little, “I like Libbie.”

—————

The shower Bessie took was almost two hours long and she still didn’t feel clean by the time it was over. When she finally stepped out, her skin was rubbed raw and glowed neon pink. Sensitive to the touch and still budding blood in some areas where she scrubbed a bit too viciously, her flesh stung in the open air.

The feeling of His hands still lingered on her body.

After spending two minutes washing her face, she got dressed into her pajamas and finally stepped out of the bathroom. While trudging to her room, preparing to try and just sleep all this sadness off, she heard a commotion coming from downstairs.

“Maria, what the hell are you doing?!”

“My best!”

“Maria!! Hold her still!”

“I’m trying! She is WILD!”

“Shh!!”

“Oh, don’t you ‘Shh’ me! You’re not the one getting bitten!”

At that, Bessie does a double take. Thinking Maggie may be having a meltdown, she hurried downstairs, not caring if her eyes were still red and puffy from crying endlessly for two hours.

“Maggie?”

Instead of her protégé freaking out or having an attack, she saw a kitten with its tongue sticking out on the dinner table. Maria swipes the cat and hides it behind her back.

“Told you you should have been quiet.” Joan whispered to Maria, to which the drummer kicked her in the shin in response.

Maggie takes the Somali kitten and sets it in Bessie’s arms, who still looks very confused.

“Her name is Speed Demon!” The guitarist informed.

Bessie quirked a brow and scratched under the cat’s chin with a finger.

“Interesting name choice,” She said, “Whose is she?”

“Yours!”

Bessie stopped. She blinks.

“What?”

“You’ve been pretty upset since rehearsals, even though you said you were fine.” Joan said.

“You spent two hours in the shower. How do you think we found the time to get the Demon?” Maria pipes in for a moment.

“So, we got you a little present to cheer you up!” Joan continued.

Bessie is quiet. Then, she looks down at the kitten, which is licking her collarbone and purring loudly.

“Why?”

“What?” Maria tilted her head.

“Why did you do this? I was only a little upset. I told you I was fine.”

“We care about you.” Joan said.

“You’re our family, Bessie!” Maggie continued.

“We love you.” Joan finished.

Bessie wasn’t sure why, but that’s what broke her.

She crumpled down to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks for the fourth time that day. But, this time, she really let herself cry. She let herself be weak for a moment because she knew the three people hugging her would be there to hold her together.

And the kitten? Well, the kitten was just the icing on the cake.

[lailaliquorice]

where stillness was the only sound

so technically its not meant to work this way round but here’s my birthday present to you all: some aralyn angst!! I really enjoyed writing this because I love exploring aragon’s vulnerable side, she has so much lingering anxiety from how she was treated in her old life and I love seeing the other queens being there to support her for a change

so much love to my wonderful gay sibling @jarneiarichardnxel for always talking about angsty headcanons with me and for being one of the nicest people ever, ily and i hope you like this <3

tw for panic attacks and implied self harm c:

Being ‘the first queen’ gave Catherine of Aragon a reputation she felt she had to uphold. To their audience she was the cool and collected one; always sure of herself, always knowing her place and fighting to keep it whatever it took. Even among the other queens she was the one with the greatest amount of dignity left (because after all the shenanigans they’d seen each other through none of them had much dignity remaining with each other), the calm head in a crisis when even Jane lost her composure, the one they could always count on to keep them together in the face of criticism.

And that weighed heavily on her. She could feel the physical burden of their trust in her at the end of a weary day, in the pulsing headaches and tense shoulders she was often plagued by. It felt as though she was living a lie, that she didn’t deserve to have that trust placed in her because they didn’t know how she felt on the inside. How the walls of her exterior were kept up by the thinnest of foundations, how the cracks in her mask were hidden so well that no-one would ever notice them.

Because she couldn’t let anyone notice them. Couldn’t let even her sisters know that she, Catherine of Aragon, was really the weakest of them all. Because then they’d realise if she couldn’t be who they needed her to be then she had no worth to them anymore, and she’d be left alone again.

She never looked forward to the nights where she had a random show off, because then she was left sat at home knowing that her queens were doing just fine without her being there. She would always try to keep herself busy and her mind occupied by any means she possibly could; watching several episodes of an engaging TV show in a row, cooking a complicated meal for the queens before they returned, attempting to clean the entire house from top to bottom, pulling every single weed out of the garden flowerbed. Anything that distracted her mind from spiralling without anyone there to save her.

But sometimes, sometimes, it still wasn’t enough.

The first sign was always that disconnected feeling in her chest, as if she was floating outside her spaceship and her lifeline had just snapped. Then the weightless feeling in her limbs that always accompanied it, the trembling of her hands and shakiness of her knees that persisted even as she tried to force her way through it. Her tunnel vision as her peripheral blurred just slightly, making her feel as if she was falling helplessly through space and couldn’t grab onto anything to save her.

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to focus on cutting vegetables for the curry she was making. “You’re not doing this now,” she told herself through gritted teeth as her slices became less uniform and more jagged with how her hand shook holding the knife.

Stern words to herself made no difference, and neither did her insistence that the tears streaming down her face were caused by cutting onions rather than the mess inside her head. She was forced to drop the knife and step away from the counter when her eyes became so blurred with panicked tears that she couldn’t see her hands anymore, jumping with a yelp when the knife grazed the tip of her thumb. She let out a shallow breath as she stumbled away from the counter, hands fluttering around her head as her shoulders hunched forwards.

It was only now that she’d completely given up on her distraction that the worst of her thoughts all came rushing in like a tide breaking the dam; what was she doing pretending she belonged? The other queens didn’t need her, they were getting on better without her and probably thinking about how much better the show was with one of the alternates playing her part. They didn’t need her.

And if they saw her like this then they’d finally realise that.

A sob ripped from her throat, and as she sunk to her knees she clamped her hands over her mouth to stifle it even though there was no-one there to hear her. She had no right to be upset, it was just what she deserved. She’d come off lightly compared to some of the other queens, she had no right to stand beside them and tell her story when they had suffered so much more than she had. She had no right to be with Anne when Catherine had had exactly what she’d been robbed of; a peaceful escape from her marriage and time with her daughter. Hot shame coiled in her stomach as she wondered how Anne could bear to even look at her.

Her hands shook violently now that she had nothing in her hands to curb her trembling. Without the physical contact of anything except the ground beneath her she felt even more untethered than before, and she dragged her nails down her forearms in a desperate attempt to ground herself again.

When it didn’t work she dug them harder into her skin, only dimly registering the pain at the back of her panicked mind but seizing the feeling as something to focus on through her dissociative haze. Black spots danced across her vision as her breathing became harsher and shallower, lungs screaming for air, but she couldn’t slow the heaving of her chest to draw in enough oxygen.

True fear flitted across her mind as she realised she really couldn’t breathe.

And that was her last thought before her vision blurred, pitching over sideways as the lack of air became too much and she passed out.

~~~

She didn’t hear the other queens coming through the door a few minutes later, or Kat’s scream when she was the first to see Catherine collapsed on the kitchen floor. She didn’t hear Cathy’s shaking voice as she stared at her godmother and asked if she should call an ambulance. She didn’t hear Anne calling her name as she crouched down beside her, asking the other queens to give them space as she tried to bring her round first.

The first sensation she became aware of was the gentle fingers on her forehead, brushing a few errant curls from her sweat-slicked skin. Then the hand gripping onto hers tightly as if someone was trying to physically drag her back into consciousness.

“Catalina? Catalina, love, can you hear me?”

Catherine let out a tiny groan as she opened one eye a fraction to see Anne’s worried face leaning over her.

“You’re ok Catalina, I’m here and you’re ok. Just breathe for me sweetheart, that’s all that matters.”

For a minute or two Catherine just complied with her request, letting her aching chest rise and fall slowly as she became more aware of her surroundings. The hard kitchen floor beneath her, the gentle touch of Anne’s hand on her stomach, the stinging pain down her arms. At that realisation she turned her head a little and noticed the long red marks stretching down both forearms from where she’d scratched her skin raw.

When the remnants of her previous panic came flooding back she closed her eyes and attempted to curl in on herself again from her sprawled position, hating how weak she felt in front of her girlfriend and trying to make herself as small as possible. A light tap on her cheekbone stopped her though as Anne’s voice said “Nuh-uh, no sleeping again you. You’ve got to stay awake or Cathy’s gonna call an ambulance.”

Her dislike of that idea overrode her crushing anxiety for a moment, and she forced herself to nod as she pushed herself up with one arm. Anne’s hands moved to help her sit up slowly, murmuring a quiet “You alright?” when Catherine winced just slightly as her head spun. She almost slumped over again when she realised she had no energy left to support herself alone, but Anne quickly wrapped an arm around her shoulders to guide her into her side when she noticed Catherine’s eyelids fluttering again.

“Sorry,” Catherine croaked out, tears pooling in her eyes.

Anne shushed her gently, taking her hand again and squeezing lightly. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about babes, all I care about is that you’re ok.”

Catherine shook her head frantically, breath hitching as she began to cry again. “But I’m so pathetic,” she whispered, “you all look up to me so much but I’m not strong like you think I am, I’m just weak and pathetic. And now you’ve seen that everyone’s just going to leave me again and- and-“

“Catherine stop,” Anne interrupted her firmly, grabbing Catherine’s hands from where she’d started scratching at her wrists again without even realising it. “This doesn’t make you weak at all. You’ve got so many demons but you’re still so confident and amazing and you don’t let them get to you. That doesn’t mean you’re weak, it means you’re stronger than ever.”

“I’m not,” she insisted in a fragile voice, her tears falling faster in the face of Anne’s protests. Her body was too exhausted for the shuddering sobs she could feel building, but her shoulders still shook as she started to hyperventilate again.

Anne adjusted Catherine slightly so she was leaning with her head against Anne’s chest, and Catherine hiccupped in a desperate attempt to calm her racing breaths as Anne wrapped one arm around her shoulders and buried the other hand in her hair. “I’ve got you babes,” Anne said softly, gently massaging where she knew Catherine’s tension headache would be bothering her, and the sheer lack of judgement in her voice was enough for Catherine to give up on trying to pull her mask back on and cry openly into Anne’s chest. “I love you so much and I don’t care that you’re not perfect. You don’t have to keep hiding away, you can talk to me about what you’re feeling.”

Catherine’s face crumpled as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, giving a tiny shake of her head as she sniffed. “I can’t,” she whimpered.

“You can,” Anne insisted. “We’re not gonna hold it against you or anything. We’re not gonna be annoyed at you if you’re having an off day, and we’re not gonna abandon you if you make a mistake. I know it’s scary but we’d rather you be honest than perfect.”

She watched Anne through wide eyes as she cupped Catherine’s cheek and finished with “Because that’s the you who we love.”

Smiling shallowly, Catherine’s eyes slipped shut as she leaned her head into Anne’s palm. “Thank you,” she breathed out quietly, hoping that Anne knew how gratitude she was really conveying in those two short words.

“It’s what I’m here for,” Anne replied, and Catherine felt the rest of the tension leave her spine as Anne gently kissed her forehead. “D’you wanna go upstairs and rest for a bit?” she asked.

Catherine considered for a moment. Her limbs felt like lead and with the post-panic exhaustion tugging at her mind she knew that she wasn’t going to last long before she fell asleep. But Anne’s words continued to ring in her mind, and for possibly the first time she didn’t think she wanted to be alone in her vulnerable state at that moment. She shook her head, hesitating a moment longer before she mumbled “I want to stay with everyone.”

As Anne kissed her brow again Catherine could physically feel the beaming smile on her face. “I think everyone’d love that,” she said with so much love in her voice, hugging Catherine closer for a moment before calling out “Jane, can you come in here for a mo?” towards the kitchen door.

The sound of footsteps approaching them made Catherine tense a little, but she managed to look up into Jane’s concerned eyes rather than just hide in Anne’s embrace. “Hello love, how are you feeling? You had us all worried for a minute there,” Jane said with a gentle smile, reaching out to stroke Catherine’s hair.

“I’m ok now,” Catherine said with as much conviction as she could manage, which was very little since her voice still sounded terribly quiet and fragile.

Anne gave her a proud grin which made Catherine smile in return, before looking up at Jane and asking “Can you help me get her into the living room? I don’t think I can take her weight by myself.”

“Course I can, love.”

Between the two of them, Anne and Jane managed to get Catherine up onto her feet with her weight almost completely shared between the two of them. Catherine’s knees threatened to buckle when she tried to stand unsupported so she was happy to let her friends lend her their strength, too drained from her anxiety attack and blackout to do anything else. With slow steps they managed to make their way into the living room where Cathy, Anna, and Kat were waiting for them, all of them wearing relieved smiles when Catherine managed to reassure them she was ok.

Catherine didn’t say a lot as she curled back into Anne’s side on the sofa, watching through tired eyes as Jane and Cathy finished the dinner while Anna and Kat distracted her with meaningless chatter. Her stomach was too unsettled to eat much but she managed to eat a few bites with Anne’s encouragement, and she smiled tearfully at Jane’s praise that she’d done really well. When Jane brought in the first aid kit she and Kat took an arm each and rubbed antiseptic cream into the scratches down her arms, no hint of judgement in their faces when Catherine managed look up at them.

It was a feeling she was unaccustomed to, being the one looked after for once when she usually looked out for them all, but she was tired enough to not only accept it willingly but admit it was nice.

It wasn’t long later before her eyelids started to flutter closed again as her exhaustion became too much for her. But this time she had her girlfriend’s warm body beneath her head rather than the cold unforgiving floor, and her friends surrounding her rather than a lonely kitchen. Their voices became muffled and the warm lighting dimmed into darkness as she fell asleep in Anne’s arms.

Anne glanced down from her conversation with Anna when she felt Catherine’s head slump onto her chest again, adjusting her arms a little to hold her as she slept. Even though they still had a long way to go, it was a comfort to know that Catherine could let her walls down and sleep soundly with the knowledge that she had a support network around her this time round. And they would always stand by her side when she wobbled and catch her when she fell.

[the-static-and-i]

Late-Night Kitchen Cuddles

TW: Nightmares, death mention, panic attacks, implied torture mention. Hurt/comfort.

She stood at the entrance hall, the archway looming high above her head in the big house. She swayed, her legs shaking and knees twitching as if they were going to give out. She stepped away, turning and walking through the kitchen into the living room, sitting on the couch that faced the entrance way with an irritated sigh. 

“Why am i back here? I thought i had gotten over this shit..” She glanced around, ensuring once again she was alone. She pushed herself to her feet, her head spinning dangerously. She gripped onto the couch, and then the table, pushing herself along until she gripped the wall next to the archway. 

Its not even the same one. The hallway doesn't even look the same. The archway was never the problem before.

Sam groaned, her hands gripping her bangs and pulling them out of her face. “I have less than half of the trauma of everyone else in this fucking house. I shouldn’t be freaking the fuck out over something so fucking stupid-” She cut herself off, planting herself on the floor with her back to the wall, eyes not leaving the carpet on the other side of the archway. The archway she had passed through a few times. The fucking archway that everyone had passed through without trouble.

Every time she blinked, she swore she saw a shadow standing there though, so she pushed herself to her feet and walked to the kitchen again, grabbing a cold bottle of water and pressing it to her forehead.

“Ren? What the fuck is going on?” She finally asked the only other person who would know.

Ren stayed quiet as she shifted to the forefront of their mind, taking control and cracking the bottle open to take a long sip. When she was done, she turned and sat on the floor, the cabinet pressing into her back almost uncomfortably. She also kept her eyes on the archway, but kept glancing away, her eyes chasing every glint of light from the reflection of Sam’s glasses. 

“Renee?” Sam’s voice was tinged with panic from inside their head, causing Ren to sigh heavily, removing the glasses and rubbing at her eyes. 

“I’s my fault,” was all she said, her words slurred and head starting to throb. 

“What do you mean it’s your fault? What is?” Concern quickly replaced the panic, Sam wishing to hold her sister once again.

“All of it. The weak body, the headaches, panic attacks, low energy, irritability, all of it. I’s cause of me. I-.. I haven’t been sleeping.”

“You-? For how long? And why?”

“Umm.. a week? Two? I mean, no I’ve been awake for about.. 3 days? Wait, what day is it?” Ren thought hard on what their phone had told them this morning, but she couldn’t even remember that far back. Her thoughts were slow, and it bordered painful to try to recall anything substantial. “‘Gardless, It’s been a hot sec.”

“Ren, you’ve lectured Eli and mom about less, what the hell?”

“I’s.. Sammy, the nightmares are back.. The fear is back.. I.. Whatever trick we had before doesn’t work ‘nymore. ‘F i sleep while you’re awake, i still get the nightmares; I sleep while you sleep and the nightmares are so much worse, coupled with anxiety that’s been waking me up before the nightmares actually even begin. So I stopped trying.. ‘M sorry.”

“But then why haven’t I been getting any of them? And why haven’t you told me before this? Ren, I want to help you, and I want to be here for you.. I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s going on..”

“I.. I didn’t want you to panic too.. But obviously that didn’t work out, and now you’re afraid again too.. I-” Ren sighed heavily through her nose, her eyes falling shut. They don’t reopen until she finishes, “I’ve been afraid that i won’t wake up again. That I won’t be me if i wake up. That.. that he’ll have come back, and gave us just the right dose of static to turn me into.. To turn me back into #261. And with every nightmare, it changes a little. Sometimes you and me are both alive, but we have to watch that fucking monster hurt everybody in this house one at a time with our hands.. Sometimes I’m dead, and it’s just you watching. Sometimes he broke you down so he didn’t even need the static. But I’ve heard every single person in this house scream and beg for me to stop. I’ve seen so many of them die and i can’t-” she chokes on a sob, unaware she had started crying until then. Ren wraps their arms around her knees, holding herself as tight as she can as she tries to muffle her sobs with her trembling knees.

“Renren? Samsie?” Eli’s voice was soft, barely audible over the blood rushing to Ren’s head. Sam gently took back control, just enough that she could calm their breathing and sobbing, but not enough that Ren would be helpless and isolated.

“Samsie right now. Ren had a nightmare, it’s okay though. You alright?” She held her knees tighter, knowing it would help comfort Ren some more. Eli’s frown deepened as he walked closer, plopping down onto the tile next to the girls. He leaned up against them, wrapping his arms around their torso and knees too.

Sam leaned her head on top of his, shifting one arm from her knees to wrap around his shoulders. She let Ren take back over full control, slowly so she didn’t get overwhelmed. Her shaking slowly stopped, as her sister and brother held her tightly, still full of trust despite the staticky magic that created her. Despite the things she had done. Despite the things she could do. 

She finally relaxed fully against Eli, slowly falling asleep. Just before she passed out, she passed full control to Sam, who nuzzled into Eli’s hair with a soft murmur: “Thank you.”

[etherealblasphemy]

Lonely Planet Blue

Virgil is a soft pillow baby™ and I will fight anyone who disagrees

TW: self-deprecating thoughts, mentioned/referenced/implied death, panic attacks, mentioned/implied war

   Vae hadn’t returned for two months. Every night, he snuck up to the bell tower and would peer out from the little window where, at one point in time, townspeople from below could catch a glimpse of the now absent bell. It had likely been melted down for ammunitions.

   It was a night like any other. Virgil sat, back pressed against one of the corners of the little tower, his eyelids beginning to flutter close. He shook himself awake, his hazy brown eyes refocusing on the barren wasteland dotted with ruins holding all too painful memories. Silently, he cursed his best and only friend as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes, feeling the bags underneath them that were becoming more prominent as the days went by.

   He liked the midnight sky. It calmed his anxiety that Vae was likely a dead man or a deserter. Tonight, the heavens dripped neon purple and raven black as the stars blinked at him, almost mocking him. His heart was in his throat as he stood unofficial sentry, wishing his friend would come home already so he could ask her where she’d gone and what adventures- because it wasn’t Vae if it wasn’t an adventure- she’d had.

   He hugged his knees close to him, zipping his hoodie up to try and keep himself warm in the chilly night. A breeze ripped through the little tower, sending Virgil’s hair flying every which way. He grumbled as he patted it down, desperate to tame it so if on the off chance Halo came upstairs after fitful sleep, she wouldn’t tease him for looking like a girl with his shoulder-length hair, the tips dyed lavender.

  As he finally got his hair under control, he glanced outside and nearly choked on his breath. Someone was standing in the distance, holding a glowing lantern. They were still as a statue, but Virgil didn’t care. He leapt off the ground, practically throwing himself down the rickety stairs as he raced to the bottom of the bell tower. He threw open the rotting wooden door as he reached ground level, stumbling over his feet as he ran down the cobblestone streets littered with pebbles and black snow.

   At ground level, it was much harder to see the figure in the distance, but through the narrow alley between to buildings that Virgil had seen collapse in on themselves with his own eyes as the families inside screamed for help, he could spy the willowy figure that stood nearly invisible against the dark horizon of the night.

   His heart pounded with exhilaration as he felt his lungs beginning to sting, his throat growing scratchy and dry. Vae was back, Vae was back, Vae was back... He felt a grin spread across his face. His best friend was home. Finally, he wouldn’t be alone.

   Slowing down, he bent over, panting heavily. He’d never done much exercise, despite running from himself his entire life. His eyes were brimming with tears of joy and exhaustion, blurring his vision as he looked to see his vision was so poor from the salty liquid in his eyes that he saw three figures instead of one.

   He began walking, too tired to run again, wiping the tears as he called Vae’s name. Upon looking up again at the horizon, Virgil made out the outlines of three people. Not one. Three.

   What? Did Vae come back with someone? he wondered as he approached the people, apprehension taking root in his gut. Millions of possibilities flew through his mind. They’re refugees. They killed Vae. It’s Marco, Kay, and Farhana back from their mission. Vae met merchants or soldiers or something or- his heart stopped. He could clearly see the people now.

   None of them were Vae.

   Thousands of emotions flooded through him, grief being the first after the searing feeling of hope being crushed and falling to the desolate, cold ground. Virgil sank to his knees, tears of despair spilling over his eyes this time around. His heart beat rapidly, ready to tear its way through his body and escape the cage of ribs inside him. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening? Why couldn’t he get a happy ending for once in his miserable life? His breath came in shallow gasps and he mentally cursed. He was having a panic attack.

  His limbs trembled as another gust of wind blew, dust and other particles hitting his face harshly. He could feel his heart racing at the same pace of his thoughts, which was firmly convinced that Vae had met some terrible fate at the hands of terrible people. He let out a sob that resembled his best friend’s name, his head hitting the hard ground as he collapsed over his knees, pounding on the cruel earth that likely covered his friend in eternal sleep.

   He felt a hand on his shoulder and screamed, throwing his head back to see who it was and falling back painfully on his behind. He saw a stoic man staring him down, tiny lights flickering behind his grey eyes. He wore a double-breasted suit ensemble with a dark blue and black color scheme, tiny navy pinstripes running up and down his tight trousers which were crammed into brown dress boots. A bolo tie wrapped around his neck, transparent beads decorating the aiguillettes. He held a lantern burning brightly in the middle of the night, blinding Virgil as he tried to calm himself down. In the firelight, he made out the shadowy faces of the two strangers behind him.

   The first thing he noticed about the pretty-boy blonde was the flower crown he wore. Lilacs the color of a sunset, roses the color of a china doll’s dainty painted blush, and teal chrysanthemums decorated his head, slightly glowing with their respective pastel colors. His bright blue eyes observed Virgil curiously, his head slightly tilted and his lips pursed with worry. Besides the flower crown, the boy was dressed elegantly, as though he was trying to convince everyone he really was a prince of some sort. He wore a copper-colored ascot tie tucked neatly into a white mandarin collar shirt. He wore red breeches and a pair of dramatic, buckled, knee-length wedge boots the color of lavender flowers accented with gold chains, giving a bit more rounded appearance to the prince wanna-be. Over his clothing, he wore some sort of jacket trailing to his knees, splatters of gold giving the otherwise white fabric the look of an ombre. A red sash attached to a little bag was slung across his body. Virgil also spotted a dark blue necklace hiding underneath his shirt, the chain just barely visible in the night. Lighting up the air around him were soft butterfly wings glowing cotton candy pink, their tips white as icing.

   The one beside him also watched with concern. His baby blue eyes, similar in color to the boy with the flower crown, narrowed as he watched Virgil gasp for breath, scared out of his mind. This one was decked with a pair of antlers that looked like crystal dripping soft pastel colors that reminded Virgil so much of his lost friend. His wispy cinnamon and dark toffee hair fell into his eyes as he pushed it back away from his face, pulling out a silver hair clip from somewhere and forcing his hair to comply. For a moment, Virgil compared him to the likes of Rin Okumura from Blue Exorcist before he remembered he was not supposed to be interested in little kids’ stuff like that. Instead of beginning another inner war, he focused of the eccentric clothing of the antlered man. He wore a bright blue waistcoat patterned with lace shaped like interlocking roses, tiny silver chains keeping it wrapped around him. Underneath, he wore a plain white shirt with small brown sleeve garters. He also wore beige breeches and black knee-length boots with bright yellow buckles. Virgil noticed a pair of black-rimmed circle glasses tucked into the breast pocket of his waistcoat.

   Virgil choked out another sob, tears running down his cheeks, ruining the black eye-shadow he always wore. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision the first time he put it on. Vae had been gone for three days back then, and he was trying to repel his loneliness by finally completing the dare Vae had given him when they were just teens, laughing beside a campfire, the thought of war and destruction far in the back of their minds. Vae had returned later that week, amused at Virgil’s new look, but now that she had truly disappeared, Virgil couldn’t keep from wearing the eye-shadow beneath his eyes, as if it were the only thing that he had left to remember her by.

   The antlered one moved suddenly, throwing his arms around him and squeezing tightly. Virgil shrieked, trying to push the man away from him with his gangly arms. Instead, the man hugged him tighter. He patted him on the back with gentle hands. Virgil froze, unsure what to do. Virgil felt himself begin to relax in the man’s grasp, though his pulse was still skyrocketing.

   “W-what are you doing?” he managed to force out of his mouth. “Who are you all?” Much quieter, he added, “Where’s Vae?” The others seemed to notice the first two inquiries. At long last, the hugger pulled away.

   He spoke in an unfamiliar language, melodic words bouncing off his tongue as he rambled phrases foreign to the scared boy. The man with steely gray eyes stepped forward, muttering to the antlered man, who glanced at Virgil and flushed.

   “I apologize,” the man with cold eyes said. “My companion forgot you do not speak our tongue. You speak a language known as English, correct?” Virgil nodded, dumbfounded. “My name is L.O.G.I.C., and these are my companions, Patton-” he gestured to the antlered man, “-and Roman,” he gestured to the prince, who waved briskly. “I know this is sudden, but you must come with us.”

   Virgil gaped at the three strangers. He pushed himself off the ground, unable to bare the feeling of being watched like a pathetic wimp. He mumbled incoherent words, still trying to process everything. “You’re… you guys are aliens?” he breathed, focusing on their more… supernatural body parts. L.O.G.I.C. blinked, apparently confused.

   “Well, not exactly. By alien, do you mean the undocumented immigrant kind or the beings from another planet kind?”

   “Of course the beings from another planet kind! I’d never use such a mean word to describe people who could easily be my friends!” Virgil cried defiantly. His eyes widened as his brain reminded him not to blurt anything, and his shrunk back, clutching the patch-covered sleeves of his hoodie.

   L.O.G.I.C reached out a hand, but drew back. “To be more specific, Patton is a shapeshifter known as a Drisine. Roman is a being who appears with one physical aspect of another creature, and can turn into that creature. He also happens to be an exiled prince, though from experience I suggest you don’t bring that up when speaking to him.”

   “W-what about you?” Virgil asked. He would be lying if he said his interest wasn’t piqued by now.

   L.O.G.I.C. smiled coldly, what Virgil assumed was the only mode his smile was set to. “I am an artificial intelligence unit set inside a capsule built to resemble that of my creator.” Virgil couldn’t process it. Mere moments ago, he had believed his best friend was coming home. And now these strangers who claimed to be beings from faraway planets had asked him to come with them. It was something straight out of a movie.

   “Why?” he asked suddenly, his eyes burning into the robot’s. “Why me?” His lifted his chin, mimicking the rebel teens in the propaganda movies he’d come to know by heart. “What makes me so important?” He bit his harshly, shoving his hands deep into the thralls of the hoodie’s pockets. He couldn’t seem weak. They wouldn’t want him then, no matter why they wanted him now.

   L.O.G.I.C.’s eyes narrowed and Virgil steeled himself, putting up the mask he always wore. After a long, worry-filled pause, L.O.G.I.C. finally responded. “According to my fellow companions, they heard a rather cryptic prophecy that they, along with two others who fit our descriptions, will defeat an age-old evil.” The robot added on in a lower tone, “We seem to be in the same boat. These two dragged me into their ship after breaking into a lab, and I’ve been travelling with them ever since.” Virgil almost chuckled at the sight of the two smaller men dragging this no-nonsense robot onto a stereotypical UFO ship.

   He shook his head, running his hand through his head. “What the hell…” he whispered, his eyes glancing across the landscape slowly brightening as time approached dawn. “Why… why me, though? Why not literally any other one of my friends holed up back in town?” he asked, jutting his thumb behind him to the ruins. “They’re the ones leading a rebellion. Me? All I can do is hide in the bell tower and wait for my friend to come home…” His voice cracked, small tears in his eyes. He blinked, looking down at the dirt as rubbed the tears away. Someone tackled him in a tight hug, making him gasp. “W-what?!” he stuttered, disliking the contact. He looked to see it was the one L.O.G.I.C. had called “Patton.”

   Patton said something, pulling away. “Patton says he hopes you feel happier soon,” the robot told him. Patton continued to talk in the strange tongue, his eyes shimmering in the fire of the robot’s lantern. Meanwhile, the robot continued to translate for the bewildered teen. “To sum up what he’s saying, most of which being what you humans call ‘fluff’, he’s asking you to come with us because it does not look like you enjoy the life you are currently living. You mentioned a person named Vae when you were approaching us, might I ask who this is?”

   Virgil snarled. “She’s my friend, dummy…” He ripped his body out of Patton’s grip, almost shoving the man away. “I’m waiting for her…” L.O.G.I.C. frowned. He mumbled something under his breath, though Virgil only caught the words “pesky emotions.” “So I can’t go with you,” he said, shaking his head and taking a step back. “I mean, I don’t even know you guys, and I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, and… and…” He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t feel. The world around his was spinning as he fell to his knees, gasping for breath.

   He could vaguely sense someone running to him, shaking his shoulders slightly and saying something. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t breath. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Someone else was holding his hands, running their thumbs over his knuckles. He focused on that feeling, just that feeling, the feeling of warm skin meeting his, the feeling that maybe, just maybe, somebody found him worthy. He hadn’t felt it since Vae disappeared.

   Someone was singing. He expanded his hazy focus from just the thumbs running across his knuckles to the voice that was so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. “Masae ioána tu an luüa, lavēhsea, agus tea tu rinda saänud ta. Waesa eayona rinda tä oppai-uoye-sinderūe, agus tu agus e taeyunge faero laehkona…” His breath slowed down, the words permeating his frantic mind like a sun ray bursting through a sky full of thunderclouds. His eyes wandered up to meet blue ones. He got lost in those sky blue eyes that glittered like crystals in the night. They were warm, seeming to smile, and reminded him of a clear summer day, nostalgic of a time when he and Vae were children and they hadn’t learned to be scared. He recalled running through a field of tall reeds, Vae on his tail, playing tag as they run through the small town they grew up in.

   The memory turned sour. Time jumped years, to when he was a young boy. He could clearly picture the face of his mother, smiling sweetly as she waved goodbye to her school-bound son. He came home that day to find his entire neighborhood gone, leaving just crumbled, charred ruins and trauma that wove falsehoods into his mind to make him forget the sight of his mother’s charred body, clinging to a small photograph of her son who no longer smiled.

   He choked out another sob, the tears burning his face with shame and despair and everything gone to shit. The voice grew stronger, the thumbs becoming hands that grasped his own, holding them in a gentle yet firm grip. Hands became arms that pulled him into a strong embrace, not as familiar one Patton had given him, yet still warm and calming. He looked into those eyes, searching for worth, for love, for anything to anchor him to reality.

   The person pulled him into his grasp, and he fell forward into their chest, his hands grasping silken fabric that had gone threadbare in some places. He buried his face into their warm body, staining their clothes with his tears. They smelled like smoke from campfires, like saltwater and seashells, like velvet in a thrift store.

   “Sasha tu haao meh,” they whispered, combing their soft fingers through his mousy hair. He listened to the sound of their heartbeat, his vision finally clearing as the tears began to dry. Virgil couldn’t bring himself to look at whoever it was who held him in their arms like he was their whole world. Instead, he snuggled closer to them, his ratty hoodie hardly protecting him from the bitter night.

   The person gently grasped his chin between their forefinger and thumb and coaxed him to look up. Virgil tired his best to keep his gaze averted, feeling the shame beginning to crawl up his spine, but the person moved into his eyesight.

   It was Roman.

   That alone was enough to send Virgil back into hysterical whimpering, but seeming to sense Virgil’s apprehension, Roman pulled him even closer, hugging him. “Sasha tu haao meh, lavehsea,” he repeated. Virgil’s gaze wavered, but Roman held it, staring into his eyes- and perhaps, his soul.

   Something turned on within Virgil, deep down in his heart where he stowed all precious things. He didn’t seem to be disgusted by Virgil’s weakness. He didn’t seem to think Virgil was only worth keeping around for standing guard. No. He seemed to… like Virgil. As though he meant something to the pretty boy with butterfly wings the color of cotton-candy.

   He sniffed, wiping the tears in his eyes away. He tried smiling. Roman smiled brightly at him, and Virgil realized what exactly his heart was screaming at him: Go with him. Go with them. Vae’s not coming back. They’re you’re new family, whether you like it or not. Go with him. Go.

   His eyes met the robot’s. “Forgive me for not offering any condolences. I have no desire to involve myself with complex emotions such as yours and Roman and Patton’s,” he stated, offering a hand to Virgil. He stared at it for a moment before taking it and standing up, wiping away more tears. Roman got up, too, as Patton slung a arm around his shoulder.

   “Rende hamun tu!” Patton said, causing Roman to snort and L.O.G.I.C. to crack a smile.

   “He said you’re his son now,” the robot translated. Virgil blanched, his face flushing shamefully. “You don’t have to come with us if you don’t want to…” L.O.G.I.C. said softly, tilting his head to the side.

    To say he was conflicted would be an understatement. Heartstrings were being tugged at, old feelings of yearning to go on adventures being dug up and thrown about like confetti. Yet, he couldn’t leave. ...Could he? Could he leave Vae for dead, leave behind his home for the past two decades of his life, leave behind all he had left to remember of when the world was at one another’s throats, desperate to survive in a war-torn insanity? He felt his hands start shaking. He couldn’t leave. Vae was still out there. Until they found her body, she couldn’t be dead. But the little voice in his head told him different, told him to come to his senses and stop clinging like a child to all he held dear. He had nothing left here. Nobody left who loved him, no place that he could call home, no reason why he should stay.

   He made his decision.

   “Promise you won’t leave me behind,” he demanded, his fists clenching and shoulders tensing. L.O.G.I.C. seemed taken aback, but composed himself quickly.

    “Of course,” he told Virgil softly, slightly confused at the request. “We would never leave you behind…” He trailed off, probably realizing that Virgil hadn’t given up his name yet. He wasn’t ready, though.

   “Just... call me Anxiety. It’s an old nickname of mine,” he offered. L.O.G.I.C. blinked.

   “Very well, Anxiety. I am to assume you have chosen to come with us?” Virgil nodded, biting his lip. He was really doing this… “Come along, then, the Sanders Yersinia is just a little ways away.” The travelers turned away from him, beginning to head back the way they came.

   Virgil looked behind him. Looked at the town made of ruins and black snow and hate and fear and despair. Looked at the past that refused to leave him alone. He saw a glimpse of the base and the bell tower, where a tiny flicker of light continued to glow. He swallowed, turning around and joining his new companions. He was leaving this lonely planet, this heartbroken world, this desolate land, this disconsolate war. He wasn’t going to come back.

   God, he hoped he was making the right decision.

I searched up way too many fashion terms to write this. Oh well.

Thank you for you kind words (*i feel so much validation* :DDDDD)! I really appreciate each and every one of them.

So I think all that’s left to get this story actually started is Cal joining the crew. Then we get the gOoD sHiT :)

Here’s the translation for what Roman was saying:

“Masae ioána tu an luüa, lavēhsea, agus tea tu rinda saänud ta. Waesa eayona rinda tä oppai-uoye-sinderūe, agus tu agus e taeyunge faero laehkona...”:  I’ll sing you a sunset, darling, and gather you into my arms. Just let me look into your silver-lining-eyes, and you and I will dance across the sky.

“Sasha tu haao meh,” and “Sasha tu haao meh, lavehsea,”: You’re gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay, darling.

TAG LIST WOOT WOOT: (if you wanna be added/removed, hit me up :3)

@asofterfan

@alix-the-skeleton

@v-blue-writer

@hufflepuffsscrewdriver

@sanderssidesstuff

[smalltragedy]

* herman tommeraas, cis man + he/him | you know donovan mercer, right? they’re twenty one, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, four months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to ice boy by corbin like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole fear hidden behind a stoic stare, bleeding from your nose and from your gums, and the night sky with all its stars, with all its mystery and unknown thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 15th, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( james, 21, est, they/them )

looks away as i finally post his intro after being kinda awol fr however long. i love him a lot n hes also bri’s character mercy’s younger brother so u hv to be nice to him. think abt mercy’s life. then think abt ducky. im sry in advance tht his intro’s a little longer ive hd ducky fr like. a year or two n i’ve been playing him a While <3 as always like this if u’d like 2 plot n i’ll try 2 msg u bck bt otherwise im gna just hop right into threads bc obv i need to. change my methods.

ABUSE, VIOLENCE, DRUG ABUSE, EYE INJURY, GANG MENTIONS TW.

mini playlist.

father ;; the front bottoms / ice boy ;; corbin / lose yourself ;; eminem / my own worst enemy ;; lit / say it ain’t so ;; weezer / maps ;; yeah yeah yeahs / star stopping ;; lil peep / benz truck ;; lil peep / trauma ;; nf / northern downpour ;; panic! at the disco / your graduation ;; modern baseball.

statistics.

full name: donovan mercer.

nickname(s): ducky.

birthday: march 15th, 1999.

zodiac: pisces sun, aquarius moon, aquarius ascending.

mbti & temperament: intp & theorist / phlegmatic.

label: the despondent.

hometown: hell’s kitchen, new york.

sexuality: bisexual (bt not out). 

pinterest.

biography.

born in hell’s kitchen to vinny mercer and a mother who ran out of the hospital as fast as she could, as soon as she was able. she’d gone so quick that she’d never given ducky a middle name - just donovan. the younger brother of mercy (shoutout 2 bri)

his father’s the right-hand man of a well known mob boss named lars amaretto, and so, you can imagine the kind of environment ducky (& mercy) grew up in. weapon & drug dealings, interrogations, violence around every corner. a brutal way of living, no place to raise two children.

implied abuse tw // their father was not kind, or merciful - and ducky was a runt compared to mercy, small and sensitive and kinder than his brother. weak, and filled with softness, with big brown eyes and a smile that should’ve been able to melt ice - but it didn’t. and it never did.

he cried often, and was punished often for it until he learned to stop crying - at least in front of their father, and mercy too, at some point. only in the comfort of his room, with doors locked and blinds drawn closed. implied abuse end of tw

he dreamed, too, dreamt often. he’d been obsessed with outer space since childhood, as long as he could remember. school had once shown man landing on the moon, and ducky wanted that. wanted to be that, wanted to be there, up with the stars, discovering the unthinkable.

abuse mention // but it was discouraged, heavily so - projects destroyed by an angry fist only to be reconstructed to the best of ducky’s ability, with mercy’s help, all throughout the night. he’d saved up for a telescope when he was thirteen, but it’d been destroyed almost immediately when discovered. not a day went by that their father didn’t tell ducky that he was, first and foremost, stupid - and would always be. end of abuse mention

to the point where he stopped trying, simply. he never graduated high school.

abuse mention // anxiety mention // anyways … at the age of fifteen, he’d have enough. he was sick of the abuse, the pain - the crying behind closed doors, the sneaking around, the constant feeling of needing to escape, impending doom, anxiety attacks in the shower and in school bathrooms and at the back of the bus where nobody sat besides him because he was - that boy, the son of that man, the brother of that brute. he’d been a teenager and he’d already been an outcast by all means - an outcast in his family, no matter how hard he tried to appease vinny, and an outsider everywhere else.

the plan took months of preparation, paper ripped out from the back of his school notebook and stuffed beneath his mattress, details of his escape from a checklist of essential items to makeshift maps of bus routes to different cities.

all for nothing, the moment vinny discovered it, the edge of a map sticking out after a rushed morning.

heavy abuse tw // violence tw // it’d been the same day he’d gotten the nickname - ducky - the way the wound wrapped below his mouth, and the way it’d begun to heal - puckered, at first, like a duck’s bill. a better name than eyepatch, at the very least. the scar’d run from the arch of his left brow, across his eye, down his cheek, and below his lip. his eye sustained injury, and not allowed to see a doctor about it, it never healed properly.

eye injury // corneal scarring, impairing his left eye. astronaut dreams destroyed, but not in a matter of seconds. in the matter of an hour, maybe more - and that’d been much, much worse. 

he stopped trying to run away after that. tried to be more like their father, more like mercy - more brutish, less feeling. spoke less, and less. spoke hardly at all, unless spoken to first.

still didn’t matter. still lived his days in fear, still knew it’d never change. nothing would ever change.

the mercer brothers have been floating around the north carolina scene for ~5ish years now, trailing after their father who is consistently chasing after their mother with no luck. they’re currently residing in palm motel. can we get a hell yeah?

personality & facts.

he’s actually very? intimidating? when you first meet him. mercy’s younger brother, with a criminal’s record almost as long as his - a scarred face and a mean resting face. it takes at least five minutes of conversation beyond small talk before it starts to weigh on your mind that maybe, he’s not as bad as he seems.

and - well, he isn’t. but he’s guarded - so guarded. more-so than mercy, because mercy’s quicker to anger, quicker to react, and ducky tries so hard to drown out the noise. but he’s not a robot, and his facial expressions can give him away in a second.

he’s seen what happened when mercy had a glimpse of something good in his life (though, it wasn’t actually good at all - mercy had someone, at least. at the very least) - and how quickly it’d all fallen, and so ducky puts a barrier between him and others. distant, as much as he can be.

it hurts, because ducky isn’t by any means antisocial. he doesn’t hate people - he wants to be normal, wants to have friends and a girlfriend - or maybe even a boyfriend, god - but he’s so afraid. ducky is, by nature, a very scared person. terrified to his very core. he knows there is always eyes on him, and mercy too, and he knows that nothing is worth getting someone else hurt.

you know him as mercy’s little brother, and he’s quiet you know that - but his name is ducky, and you think - he’s not too bad. and he knows this, knows the doubts. knows that it’ll get back to mercy, eventually, that his brother is nothing more but a pussy. so he fights more than he’d like to, against the guilt that buries itself deep within his chest with every thrown fist. he throws up, afterwards, in the garbage can outside. too much to drink, he says, rare grin - because grins are convincing, and grins with bleeding gums are intimidating. he learned that from his brother.

violence makes him sick to his very stomach. he can’t watch horror films, or even action films, without feeling queasy. there’s been more times than he can count where he’d thrown up after a fight, or after an interrogation, usually in private but in the occasional presence of mercy.

they fight, a lot, sometimes - ducky’s too soft, too weak, and it’s bad and it’s terrible and ducky knows that mercy’s afraid. for him, of their father, and his wraith. ducky knows that if mercy isn’t hard on him now, their father will be on him harder. still. there’s resentment, small but there, like the flame of a match. he doesn’t know what’ll happen when there’s nothing more to burn, but he doesn’t want to find out. he’s afraid to find out.

he’s still in love with the moon and the stars, and the planet’s - and their moons, too. its subdued, now, though. a silent passion - one that is often not watered, left for rot. he sneaks into engineering lectures at the community college, occasionally, or physics, or whatever peeks the small curiosity inside of him.

commits small acts of kindness when nobody looks. doors held open, the meals of elderly folk eating alone suddenly paid. picks up litter besides trash bins, and always cooks extra than what he needs and leaves the rest for mercy. it’s these small things that make him feel, just the slightest, better about himself.

because god - there are layers and layers of self-loathing. it’s a labyrinth, and he’d never speak of it - but he can’t stand his own reflection. doesn’t keep photos of his family, only a few sparingly of mercy.

a liar, sad to say. has little experience with. ehem. intimacy, and the bodies of others, but lies often and says that he does. mostly to his brother, but word travels quick - and he’s not nearly as much as a fuckboy as is rumored, having only been with a handful of girls, if even that. it’s better this way - if people know that he throws others away like they’re nothing.

he ghosts often, too, if he does get to talking with anybody. the moment ducky feels a spark, something pulling at his poor heart, he ghosts. he develops feelings too easily, too often than he’d like. has left many friendships without explanation, because of this. you know the priest in fleabag season 2? the scene where he comes to fleabag’s house? yeah. tht’s ducky!

has maybe half the amount of clients that mercy does, but he’s working on it.

pretends he doesn’t care as much as he does. pretends a lot, like there’s nothing soft to him. but a trained eye can see clearly through this. even so - even if you can see that there’s more to ducky than violence and drug deals - you’d still have to break through a dozen walls.

in the rare occasion you get him talking - i mean, talking a lot - he’ll talk about space. ramble off a dozen useless facts about dwarf stars and black holes and all of jupiter’s moons. about a video game he likes, about nothing and everything at all. but as soon as he begins, he stops - embarrassed. apologizes, shuts his mouth, disappears to wherever. anywhere but there.

drug abuse // has a. complicated relationship with benzos n xanax n a various assortment of painkillers. ironic bc he hates drugs due to. his chosen career n wldnt do most of what they sell, bt yknow. this ws inevitable. hates beer bt forces himself 2 drink it bc toxic masculinity probably man idk.

overall just … he’s a soft boy, with a big heart - bigger than anybody else in his family, that’s for sure, but his exterior is far different than that, and it’s hard to tell.

violence mention // purposely loses fights so that he doesn’t have to severely hurt someone. because sometimes he just - he was raised in a violent environment, and sometimes he snaps. sometimes ducky just fucking snaps. and his vision goes red, and he can’t control himself - because need to survive kicks in, and violence is all he knows. if someone pushes ducky - pushes him enough, he breaks. he fights back. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows. it’s all he knows, and that’s not an excuse - and he knows this, and god, he’s so tired. he is so. tired.

wanted plots.

u look good tonight ... ;; wld love a connection in which he is feeling emotionally compromised n maybe kinda hs a thing w someone bt hes like. very unreliable n kinda ghosting bc he is very afraid n it wld b maybe bad fr them to b anything other than hook ups. cld apply to smth very intensive or smth very surface lvl i’ll take thousands.

palms sweaty ... moms spaghetti ... ;; ppl tht ducky just hs fkn brawled. cld b anybody fr any reason. ducky prob lost n he prob lost on purpose bt also ur muse cld maybe kick ducky’s ass? cld b a fake fight cld b a real fight. cld b a npc fight n then ur muse cn patch up ducky? possibilities endless. maybe they hv a nice spaghetti dinner n both of them r both bruised up frm their fight. sometimes fights end in spaghetti dinners. thanks eminnem or whatever.

own worse enemy... ;; ducky needs friends bt hes bad at making friends n sometimes he fks shit up by pushing ppl away n self sabotaging n being a major cunt n sometimes he just ghosts bt hes always very remorseful abt it? this cld b a very like. up n down friendship of any type its just. where do they stand. r they friends. r they enemies. r they lovers? probably not lovers. prob just platonic. but still its the thought tht counts. 

and also ;; literally just like. anything. clients who buy off of him n like. casual friends n casual enemies n casual hookups. ppl hes ghosted. ppl hes embarrassed himself in front of. maybe ur muse tries to get ducky to socialize or maybe ducky is like. u are too much fr me. n ur muse runs off crying. endless possibilities all u hv to do is call this number now.